Hello hello! Just thought I'd share a little something with you all. This is a bit cleaned up, but please forgive any mistakes or lack of flow - IRC chat tends to have its own rules for how and when people speak.
No, Laguiole is not my boyfriend either. Just some guy.
All names mentioned below are separate, real people. This started out in a public room. :3 The whole scene took about 3 hours - we typed a lot faster than the last one I shared.
(Artwork is from Meago, whose work I 100% love. Always so cute. I don't look like this girl, but I hope to someday when my hair gets longer and I find clothes like that)
BlueWinds hums pleasantly and smiles as conversation turns to whoring.
"Of course you would BlueWinds," Laguiole smiles at her.
BlueWinds ignores lag and continues tapping away at the sequel
Laguiole sidles up to BlueWinds and gooses her gently~
BlueWinds jumps and squeaks, turning a pleasant shade of red, and attempts to continue on as though nothing has happened.
Laguiole giggles, running fingers over her softly, in a teasing manner, pressing up against her gently.
BlueWinds opens her mouth, closes it again, turning a deeper shade of red. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares straight ahead.
Damiona sits down and watches.
Laguiole moves his hands to her shoulders, rubbing up and down her arms, before resting his head right next to hers. Smiling wryly, he takes out a pair of wrought iron manacles, dropping them on BlueWinds lap.
Despite her determination to ignore this until it goes away, that plan just doesn't seem to be working very well. She can feel hot breath on her neck, then a body pressing against her from behind... she brushes aside her shoulder length curls to provide an easier resting place for his head. The manacles, however, she continues to ignore.
Nickolai watches now.
Laguiole turns his head slightly, breathing gently into her ear, grasping one of her arms gently, and bringing one of the manacle cuffs to it. Gently, he opens it, placing it around her wrist, but not locking it, the metal links clinking, tied to the other end like an anchor.
BlueWinds does her best to relax a little, letting him guide her arm by the wrist. The hot breath in her ear though is more ticklish than sensual, and she breaks the tension by giggling and rolling her shoulders against him. She just stares at the metal around her wrist, mesmerized, for now unlocked. She could take it off, set it down... she doesn't.
Willard sits down to watch.
Laguiole smiles leaving the unbound cuff for now. It rests on her arm, the weight heavy, with more than just the raw metal pulling her down. He grasps the other cuff, moving it to her other wrist, the chain links suspended between. He drops his hands, wrapping them around her waist preventing further movement. Unchained but chained, unbound but bound, freedom waiting for her, needing only the barest of motions.
BlueWinds trembles slightly as strong arms wrap around her waist. She watches the cuffs before turning her head to catch his gaze, looking for something - only for a moment, before she drops her eyes down. The blush from before has changed - no longer quite so red, it now feels hotter, deeper than the surface of her skin. There's still embarrassment, at what she's letting him do to her, but also more...
Damiona scoots up next to Willard and watches as well
Laguiole murmurs into her ear, "You want this...we both know it." Taking one arm off, he positions her right hand onto the left manacle, poised to close it, "To give up control, it's up to you." His other arm squeezes, pressing into her, his arms squeezing against taut flesh. The manacle's chain sways gently, offering faint promises and flashes of imprisonment and torture and pleasure.
BlueWinds squeezes her eyes closed, shakes her head, no, she doesn't want to... her right hand clutches closed, snicking the handcuff into place. She shudders again and leans back into his body, feeling the heat against her spine slowly relax her muscles. Though one hand is still, in theory, free, it's too late to turn back now - as he said, she's given up control. Whatever happens next is both her fault, and not hers at all, an oddly freeing contradiction. "Y-yes..."
Laguiole grins widely, releasing her left hand to close in the manacle on her right, binding her wrists to the short length of chain between them. It's clinking taunting her, mocking her, showing her submission as she gave up. He stood, walking around her, grasping the links between her bound arms and pulling it up, gently bringing her arms in the air. "And so, you freely bind yourself," he chuckles, before dropping her arms back into her lap. Kneeling in front of her he whispers softly in her ear.
BlueWinds pauses, leans in close and whispers something back. The flush along her cheeks is growing downward, along her pale neck, beneath the collar of her purple flowered blouse. She hesitates, then nods to confirm whatever she's just said. Her long black skirt swishes as she sways a little, scuffing one foot against the floor.
Laguiole nods once, smirking, his plain black clothes rustling softly. He grabs the girl by her chain, tugging her up and to her feet. Without a word he turns, pulling her along by her chain, the symbol of her binding, and taking her out of hte room.
BlueWinds glances back at her... fans... on her way out, offering them a timid smile and a shake of the head that makes her curls bounce.
(Moving to PM...)
Laguiole pulls gently until the door closes, then tugs her close, a sharp pull bringing the girl into his arms. "And now you're mine," he says, almost growling, before spinning around her and pushing her forward gently to rest on a spanking bench. "I think you know the position you should get into."
BlueWinds gasps at being handled roughly, pushing her bound hands out to catch herself as she's bent over. "Y-yes," she finishes the motion, bending over the bench and resting her elbows on the frame and sticking her ass up in the air. She's not a large woman - average height, but slender as a willow, and the way the ankle-length black skirt drapes over her rear suggests that she's as small in that area as she is in the chest.
Laguiole chuckles, grabbing a length of rope, and leaning a hand on the small of her back, patting gently. "Good girl. Stay still." With swift, sure motions, he wraps the ropes around her ankles to the bench, leaving a strand strung across the gap, leaving BlueWinds tied down only in the back. He moves to her front, tugging the chain under the slats on the bench, holding her gently down, almost...trusting her to stay in her bound position... the mockery of freedom. He goes to her rear, and lifts up her skirt, resting hem on hips, exposing her panties. He places a hand on her bum, gently rubbing.
Beneath the black skirt is a pair of lacy black panties, already ever so slightly damp to the touch. BlueWinds wiggles her rear a little as he touches it, inviting more, her body acting honestly in a way her voice won't. She shifts a little, finding a comfortable place to rest her head, trying not to move too much as she becomes suddenly hyper-aware of every little breath of air across her exposed rear.
Laguiole gently slaps her rear, a few presses of his hands eliciting sharp force against soft, tender flesh. BlueWinds yelps as the first stroke of his hand takes her completely off guard - why she wasn't expecting it is a mystery, but she wasn't. She jumps a little, rattling the chain and straining the rope around her ankles, but soon settles down.
He listens to her sounds, chuckling, before tugging those panties down her thighs, leaving them suspended as anther restrictor. A faint rustling can be heard, weights coming down on her back as he uses her as a table. A hard, wide implement positions itself on her cheeks, the cold feel raising goosebumps on her skin. Laguiole murmurs one word, "Count," before bringing down the paddle hard onto her ass.
The other uses of his hand on her rear don't elicit more than mild intakes of air. She wiggles and lets out a low sound that might be a moan as she feels the paddle, then... "Yah! One!" She starts from the sting, rocking forward into the bench with her entire weight. Somehow her hands manage to stay in place, as though they really were bound to the bench.
Through she can't see it, Laguiole grins widely, bringing down the paddle in three quick repeats, slaps reverberating loudly.
BlueWinds: "Yah! Two! Th-ahh, four!" She can hardly be expected to keep perfectly still, and indeed she doesn't, rear wiggling and thighs straining against the bench. When the blows suddenly stop she lets out her breath in a low moan, feeling the burning heat creeping along her rear.
Placing it down for a moment, he rubs his hands on her already pink rear, before sneaking a hand into her soaking, dripping slit. "Such enjoyment," he murmurs, taking another implement from her back. He runs the object along her slit, soaking it in her juices, before moving to her front. "I said to count, but this, well," he chuckles, grin widening, "should be more enjoyable." He shakes the soaked ball-gag in his hands, and presses it against her lips, "Open up BlueWinds."
BlueWinds opens her mouth immediately when he presents something to it, only afterwards realizing exactly what it is she's about to take in. No more embarrassment - she opens wide and allows him to put it in. After all, it's not her fault anymore, right? She shakes her head to clear away some of the hair and bites down on the ballgag, tasting her own juices coating it.
Laguiole smiles broadly, securing it around her head, before patting her. "What a good girl you are. Good girls earn more fun," he chuckles, pacing back to his spanking position. Readying his paddle he brings it down again, a smack resounding through the room. Then again, and again.
BlueWinds jerks almost the same way with each stroke, making muffled cries of pain now that the gag will hide most of them for her. She's getting very wet indeed, watery eyes and a bit of drool, and, yes, her pussy too. She wiggles and moans as he rubs it, the soft and pleasurable sensation sudden contrast to her still burning rear.
He watches her body shake and jerk, her juices dripping down her thighs. He pauses then, and rubs the paddle along her slit. Rubbing her bum with his free hand, he draws up some of the juices, lubricating her ass. With a sharp chuckle, he pushes his fingers into that tight ring, paddle still rubbing her slit, her clit, drawing pleasure as he pushes into her tight hole, the girl writhing on his bench.
She rolls her head to look back at Lag as he starts pressing against her asshole, the first tears running down her face but pure lust in her eyes. She tries to relax, but it doesn't really work, that entire area inflamed. Fortunately her juice makes an excellent lubricant. She rolls her head, rubs her cheek on the bench and moans happily as he forces his way in.
Laguiole grins as she looks back at him, and pulls his fingers out with a wet plop. Picking up another implement off her back he plunges it into her slit, a cold round metal bulb tapering to a narrow shaft. Leaving it for a moment, he returns to his paddle, taking another slap, then another, then another, grinning at the girl, and taking pleasure in her tears and moans.
BlueWinds arches her neck and back as he paddles her again, groaning into the gag. Dear god, that metal is cold inside her. She saw that smile, he enjoys watching her cry out, enjoys... another smack, her hips jerk, god that's hot, the more she cries the more he's going to hit her... as though remembering that her hands aren't actually locked to the bench she flexes her shoulders, relaxing some of the stra... yah! She rubs her face against the bench as though it might somehow relieve the stinging.
Laguiole pulls out the item from inside her, pausing in his punishment. The boy rubs it along her crack, before pushing hard into her other hole, pressing the slimy wet plug into her ass, while rubbing the small of her back. "That feels good, doesn't it, my little pet? Being filled there, in your slutty ass."
BlueWinds moans and wiggles her rear in response, pretty clearly a "yes" rather than a sign of discomfort. She presses up into his hand as much as she can without moving her arms, loving the gentle touch as contrast to the previous abuse. The butt plug does feel good indeed - she loves the combination of violation and comforting fullness that it provides.
Laguiole takes his paddles and grinds it into the plug, pushing it hard in her ass, before teasing it out with a pop, then pushing it back in, the slurping sounds bringing a smile to his cheeks. "Such a doll," he crows, before dropping his paddle back down, bringing it in hard onto her cheeks with another staccato of slaps, the rapidity making her lose count of this repetition. After a minute of this, he puts his paddle on her back, grinding against her thighs with his own, leaving damp spots along his pants.
BlueWinds has stopped jerking with each application of the paddle, now bearing each one with a grunt and a whimper. She gasps in relief as the sudden blows come to a stop, grinding her chest against the bench in search of some sensation to distract her from her burning ass. Then he leans against her and she's distracted - it's not merely pain, but another person.
He walks around the bench, coming to her front with fake anger, "Look at the mess you've made with your slutty juices. What are you going to do about it it," he asks, loosening her gag.
"S-sorry, sir," she stammers as the gag is removed, streamers of drool running down her chin and along the bench. Though she could move her hands to wipe it off - and wants to, desperately - she leaves them in place as surely as if they'd been chained down. "s-sorry," she repeats, unable to come up with anything better.
Laguiole places a hand on her head, pulling her down roughly, "Clean them." He stands there waiting, pulling up the back of her shirt, revealing her pale back, and taking yet another tool off of her. This time, a purple and black flogger, which he drapes along her soft skin, "I'm waiting," he says, cruelly.
BlueWinds strains forward on the bench, first sucking on her lips to get them as dry as possible before attempting to slurp the dampness off his pants. A hopeless task, to be sure, and she knows it - wet with spittle and tears, her face is as messy as anything she might clean off him. Purple knit blouse out of the way, he can see her bra-straps, red, and tender skin.
Laguiole growls, with little malice, before bringing the flog down on he back, just beneath her shoulder blades. "Faster, wench," he says, knowing how little she can really do, punishing he with the strands of leather slapping along her skin. He undoes her bra strap, letting it fall to the side, before moving to her shoulder blades, lighting them up with that oh so enjoyable pain from the tool. Her back slowly pinkens, covered in the slap marks from the tool, sure to leave later light bruises, her body lit up in stinging pain.
BlueWinds groans stops her sucking as the flogger comes down across her back, though she quickly resumes when he reminds her what she's supposed to be doing. She shifts her arms a bit, trying to relieve some of the strain on her shoulders without moving her wrists too much, then continues her hopeless task. She arches her back as he draws the red swelling to another part of her body, moaning wordlessly in the back of her throat and licking away at his pants.
Laguiole grabs her by her hair, taking a firm grasp and wrenching it up, before laying a light slap across her face. "That's done nothing, wench, but make it worse!" With a gesture, he waves at his even damper pants, before laying another slap on her face, "You're lucky this is all I do," he says, before roughly tying the gag back in her mouth and retrieving a crop. He places it under her chin, gesturing her to lift her head up, "But I'm not cruel...I do know you enjoy this after all."
BlueWinds whimpers quietly to herself as she's slapped, eyes stinging with new tears as she looks up at his angry face. She obediently opens her mouth to allow the gag back in - with that in place she's not responsible for communicating any more, not required to think and find words, only endure and obey. Her pussy is so swollen, ass stuffed, her body so on fire with pain and arousal that it would take only a couple touches to push her over the edge at this point.
Laguiole smiles down at her softly, before taking that crop and slapping it against her back. Walking around her, he targets her in multiple spots, leaving small dark red spots all along her back. He rubs her engorged slit with the crop, before bringing it sharply, stinging her. And then again. And again.
BlueWinds wails into the gag, coming out as a muffled moan like any of the others. She doesn't jerk any more, body tired of that futile motion, but she does twitch each time a stroke lands. When he finally reaches her most sensitive area she tenses, feeling him rub it, expecting what's coming next, then... she begins sobbing as he hurts her, pain like she hasn't felt before blanking out her whole world in a white explosion.
And then he stopped, taking a hand and bringing it into her slit to check just how soaked she was.
BlueWinds is dripping wet - and more than that, so pent up on the very edge of ecstasy and torment that touching her gently is enough to do what the caning could not. She shudders and twitches, thighs rippling as she pants and gasps under her first orgasm of the night. It's terribly intense, made up more of anguish than physical pleasure, but it's still still enough to leave her gasping around the gag.
Laguiole smiles and rests a hand on her back as the girl shudders through her first orgasm, reaching under her and pressing his fingers into her slit, feeling her pulse and thrash. He pulled his fingers out, and twisted her clit, while taking his other hand and slowly pulling the plug out, then pushing back in, rhythmically, drawing her into motion and extending the wave of feeling, the pleasure and pain, tearing her between the two extremes as he aided and destroyed her orgasm simultaneously, helping to drag out her waves of pain and ecstasy.
BlueWinds gasps as her sphincter is forced open in the middle of her orgasm, her clit twisted savagely to bring even more intensity, more pleasure and pain and... her head is white with stars, no real thoughts, just a drawn out ocean slowly boiling down into the goopy mess of sensitivity where every fresh twinge from her stinging body brings another shudder. She moans in appreciation and satisfaction and lust - she's never had someone do that before, someone willing to hurt her as much as she deserves and as much as she needs and keep doing it right through her release. She looks back over her shoulder at him with blurry eyes, not really seeing but wanting him to see her, teary, drooling, wet and ready to accept anything he wants, whether it be pain or pleasure or service.
Laguiole grabbed a small knife, and with a few motions, cut her panties free, then removed the rope from her legs. Gently, he walked to the front, and moved her chain off from it's stuck position, and gingerly picked up the beaten, limp girl in a bridal carry. Smiling down at her, he kissed her gag, before releasing it and offering her a kiss on the lips, gripping her tightly, manacles still binding her hands. "I hope that was what you wanted, my slutty little girl," he cooed, gently holding her as to not press worse against her skin, taking her to a couch to rest on, holding her tight.
BlueWinds returns the kiss, but can't keep it gentle - full of passion she presses into him, a fierce kiss, hungry for affection and love. She curls up against him with her body too, ignoring the pain in her skin in favor of as much closeness as she can manage. There are still no words - she's never good with those at the best of times.
Laguiole embraces her passionately, cradling her body against his as his chest grinds against soft breasts, his tongue darting against hers as they kiss. Gentle rubs make their way up and down her skin, electrifying her with sharp small pain, as he presses deeper against her, holding her tightly in a caring embrace.
Being hugged and kissed is what she finally needs to relax, wiping some of the grime of her face with the back of one clanking hand. She pecks again at his lips, and tucks her head into his chest beneath his chin, now content just to be held. "Thanks," she whispers, drifting off in a comfortable daze which will soon turn to real sleep.