ecD Day 2 - Morning

It was a long night for me.  After dinner, I took a long hot bath before climbing into bed. 

Sometime in the early morning I rolled over and snuggled into him.  I traced my hand along his body and he reacted.  I don't think he really woke up during that hand job. 

I fell back asleep, but not for long.  I had a need for him and did my best to wake him up, short of shaking him by the shoulders or sitting on his face.

The next morning while he was making coffee, I told him this and he chuckled.  He told me next time to wake him up.  He didn't seem to get it - I tried.

He handed me a mug of coffee and I stood at the counter that separates the kitchen from the living area.  He came up behind me and placed a zip tie on one wrist, then the other.  All the while, I am lazily sipping my coffee.  The same was done to my ankles and I was led to a chair. 

He gently pulls the straps of my night gown down over my arms and lets it bunch around my waist.  He has not yet blindfolded me so I watch as he places clothespins on my nipples.

My feet are brought back against the rear legs of the chair, off the floor, and  a rope is drawn between the ankle ties and threaded into the wrist ties behind my back.  My thumbs and middle fingers are also bound together. 

No more coffee for me. 

The mask is put over my eyes.  Two strips of duct tape are placed down each inner thigh.  He gingerly places earphones in my ears and turns his iPod on. 

The music he plays is beautiful and centers me.  It is operatic chamber music.

My body is whipped.  It seems that with every crescendo of the music, a series of blows hit my arms, my thighs, my legs, my stomach.  He later told me that he could hear the music and planned this.

He cut the rope bindings and as he stands me up, eases my nightgown off.  He tells me to lie down flat on my back.  I struggle, trying to position myself and find that with my fingers zip-tied together, I can't.  He snips the two ties from my fingers and then I am able to lay back, my chest thrust out from my arms and hands being pinned underneath me.

He places his coffee mug on my stomach and tells me not to spill any of it.  It is warm and feels nice, but that is all quickly forgotten as my body starts to shake and he raises his voice to me, "Don't spill it." 

I tense my legs, trying to absorb the movement from my torso and manage to keep the mug from wobbling too much.  He is in the kitchen, I think, possibly just watching me.  The thought makes me shake anew. 

He has lit a candle and starts to drip wax onto my breasts.  The pain is sharp and I breath sharply in.  My natural reaction is to arch my back and he has to remind me again to not spill his coffee.

He tells me to open my mouth and to nibble.  A small piece of dark chocolate is placed on my tongue and I eat it.  He places something else in my mouth and tells me it is wax that he has taken off my body.  I eat it along with the chocolate.

He removes his coffee off my stomach and tells me I am a good girl for not spilling.  He has me roll over and cuts off the tie holding my wrists together but leaves the two around each wrist as cuffs. 

The movement while I am bound and blinded is unsettling.  I feel clumsy not being able to see where I am walking, and the simple acts of maneuvering like this - walking, lying down, rolling over - is awkward and degrading.

He knows this. 

He removes my blind fold, holds me for a moment, and tells me to go take a shower.