Spontaneous Combustion

Chapter One-2

With his Yes, I’d love to see the story about the B&B coming in his next email, she dashed off her Auction tale – with a bit of trepidation. The scene was edgy, for some a little out-of-bounds, but she figured that any creditable lifestyle Dom would find it hot.

Two days later, his response to the story arrived.

“Just read ‘The Auction’. Whew! The first time I read it, I thought great story. The second reading I realized you had this experience. Saw it in a whole different light when I realized that, damn, that was you! Your imagination put me right there. I read it just before going to bed, and dreamt all night of you standing there for sale to the highest bidder. Yes, I had a good night. I wish I could have been there. Sometime I’d like to talk to you about what you were feeling, but later.

Attached is a picture of the cottage.”

Dreamt all night of you standing there for sale to the highest bidder…he’d dreamt all night of her. Had anyone ever dreamt of her before? After a long time languishing in the comfort of an easy relationship, it was exciting to realize that she had that kind of power with men. Yes I had a good night. She could imagine his hand at his crotch, taking care of a man’s business. Wish I could have been there. And she would have liked that too – although the auction was just a memory now, a good one, but a piece of her past, from another lifetime.

About his comments on the auction, she didn’t know what to say. It was much easier to talk about his cottage…

“I am so impressed! The fact that you’re building it yourself…I love handmade things. It’s just beautiful.”

His reply to her praise of his handiwork only titillated her more.

“The interior of the new section has exposed beams. Great for bondage. I screwed rings to the floor when needed for play. The nearest neighbor is about a mile away. It’s a great place to walk a naked sub on a leash (smile). Ah, yes, but back to reality.”

She could see the gears in his mind working as hard at their mutual fantasy as hers were.

“Oh my, now you’ve done it! The mention of those bondage beams and naked walks in the woods!” She could feel her body respond just thinking of the possibilities. “You’d be impressed by the number of erotic scenes I’ve written about being tied to a tree, taken over a tree stump…etc etc. whew…” a shiver of lust raced right down her spine, “Boy, did the dynamic just change here!” Her body was on fire, overwhelmed with physical desire. But she was going too far, too fast, assuming too much from an on-line dalliance? Maybe so, but she wasn’t about to quit. This was just too much fun.

“The beams turn you on, huh? When I was building the add-on a local farmer gave me a three foot piece of tree branch he used to harness a horse to a plow. It looks like a suspension bar. I made a hanging lamp out of it. My friends jokingly call it my bondage lamp, if they only knew.

So where are you going on vacation?”

“France. I’m going to France,” she wrote, wondering why admitting this seemed more personal to her than the intimate details of her kink life she was so quick to share. “However, I hardly believe it’s actually happening.” The trip was nearly upon her, but France was still far from her thoughts. In fact, this on-line conversation played a far bigger role in her daily life than imagining herself in Paris.

“Suspension bars and bondage lamps…now you do have me going…wink.” She couldn’t remember when she’d teased a man like this. “Makes me think of floggings and whippings and all the things that could be done suspended from those bondage beams. I can already feel the whip…oh my, did I just say that?”

“France. Really? That’s a great place for s*x, kinky romance, whatever you’re looking for. Bet you’ll have a lot of fun. So, you want to be whipped? (smiling)”

It had been a long while since she’d felt a whip dance across her shoulders and down her back – the bite, the sting, the anxious moments waiting for the next nasty cut. She was ready now.

“Well…” she started evasively. Thank goodness he wasn’t there to see the red blush on her cheeks. “You might appreciate this…I wrote it a few weeks ago.” She gave him the blog link where this recent posting appeared.

BLOG POST: The remembrance begins late in the evening when the toys come out to play. In his hand they are magic, taking me to places unknown. He orders me to raise my hands and grab the door jamb; he wants my back, a canvas for his playthings, in particular the whip. This nasty number was expertly crafted by a friend in the scene, hand-braided leather with two long strands of cowhide anchored at the end. I recall its maker demonstrating the implement of torture on his sub, and how one biting cut of the thing left two long streaks on her pretty white shoulder. The marks were side by side, so close they blended into a single wicked welt. Although she barely made a sound, I heard the pain screaming from her body and my entire insides reacted with arousal. What if it left a welt like that on me?

That night he started lightly, warming up. He never followed any routine – not in the bedroom, and certainly not late at night when the dark gremlins from the day emerge from hiding and demand to be appeased.

Light was fun. Light was easy and sensuous, but hardly what either of us craved, and not what either of us needed. He picked up speed when he felt my energy start to climb, and I could only wonder how hard he’d hit tonight. Into what demon realms would he take us? I was smiling inside all the way down that rocky road to pleasure.

My crotch was wet. My breath shallow. The pheromones in the room signaled our mutual lust. Subspace didn’t take long, the point when pain turned into something quite different from pain. When the altered states began, the spasms burst through my body and the cumming began. Later, because I simply couldn’t remain on my feet, I sat on my ass before him on the bed, and rocked my naked crotch against the sheets as he delivered me into my happy world of surrender.

The whip came down hard against my back, on my right shoulder and then the left. I came in one long continuous flight of body nirvana. I quit my brain, forgot to think and rode the feeling for as long as he dared to love me with such intimate fierceness. Any moment, I knew that he would throw the whip aside, gather me into his arms and take me, stuffing his prick in my cumming p***y. Any minute. Any minute…

Until then, I’d be there waiting, as the whip struck and the pain moved through me, cumming happily in my prison of love. END

The auction story, now this – What was she thinking? She hardly knew the man, and her intimate revelations just kept working their way into her emails. Never had Jeni allowed herself to share personal experiences with fans of her blog – not in such a candid manner or in such depth. That had been forbidden territory, and for good reason – she didn’t want trouble and she already had a man – until she didn’t anymore.

But her world was different now. She didn’t have another man to think about. She had no rules, no restraints in her reborn life. To the insistent probing from Jack, she opened herself like a book, allowing him to read from the pages of her darkest self. Did she really want this unknown man to know her this intimately?

Some days, she looked at herself from a distance wondering…was she so needy now that she would throw herself at a man so easily? However, by the time she took that question seriously, she was already too far inside the restless tide, being carried away into something that had a ring of inevitability about it. Other Doms had approached her and she’d found them easy to dismiss. Jack was different. There was a substance to him, and a self-assurance, that had caught her in its snare. She couldn’t let go.

With her dormant sexuality awakened, grief had taken a back seat. She fell in love with the physical arousal, with the thrill of her body and a fresh new fantasy – which wasn’t a fantasy at all, was it?

Why not ride it out? See where it took her. A harmless diversion, right? For the first time in years she was single and free to do whatever she chose. In all likelihood, the trip to France would end the whole affair before they ever met. She would have had the first flirtation of her new life and be ready for the next. Not a bad idea. But a brief on-line affair wasn’t what she hoped for. When she thought about this man something in her stirred much deeper than casual, much more important than flirtation.

It was just days before the trip when this email arrived in response to her ‘whipping scene’.

“I remember the first time I whipped a woman, I was in my mid 20s and not very bright. We went to a party, she got drunk and made an ass of herself with my friends. When we got back to the apt, I smacked her on the butt a couple times and she just chuckled. Pissed me off that she didn’t take me seriously, so I pulled down her jeans and panties and forced her over my knees. I started spanking her with my bare hand, and when that began to hurt, I pulled my leather belt from my jeans, doubled it in my fist and started smacking her hard. Felt damn good as mad as I was. When her ass turned red I began to smile. I liked the way it felt. The leather belt became a regular part of our s*x life. I don’t know how she felt about it, but she never made a sound when I used the thing, and she never objected. I hung it in her closet and made her fetch the thing when I wanted the feel of it in my hand, and the sight of her red ass.”

Leather belt! His first kink experience was punishing his girlfriend, reddening her naughty ass with his leather belt! Jeni’s eyes did a double-take as she read the email again, and then again. What the f**k…?

Did he actually write leather belt? She checked his words again a dozen times while her heart skipped beats and her libido kicked into high gear once again – like ‘zero to sixty in three seconds’ high gear. Could he have said anything more stimulating to her erotic mind? Could he have picked a more electrifying image? Had he read her thoughts, peered into her past, had some intuitive flash of inspiration?

How in the hell could he have known?

A happy accident? A quirk of fate? Some angelic being whispering in his ear?

Of course, he couldn’t have known. How would he?

All this easy conversation about a lake cottage and s****l fantasies, exposed beams and suspension bars, naked walks through the trees and where’s the piercing? Fess up? All of it fueled a growing fire. But nothing hit her like this email did.

Out of the wild blue heaven of s****l desires, he hit on the one image that had more power to provoke her lust than any other in an enormous file cabinet of deviant fantasy she’d compiled over many years. From out of her first erotic thoughts, this singular image always appeared front and center, and she was taken back to that time…the fantasy simple, of a dominant, masterful man, holding a leather belt in his fist. She even heard the voice behind it whispering orders in her ear, demanding her obedience. His was a straight-forward, no-nonsense kind of discipline enforced by the threat of that long length of leather. The sharp sting of that fantasy belt had been a powerful aphrodisiac all her life, turning meandering erotic thoughts into explosive masturbations once that image appeared.