by Nicola Diaz
“GET BACK HERE RAVEN!”
Their screams grew more and more distant as Raven and I rode away. As we were getting far enough away I turned to Raven, confused. He noticed me looking at him.
He smiled at me, what looked like possibly a genuine smile and pulled me toward him.
“I couldn’t let my favorite slave get away could I?”
THE END
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Suspend Me!
(Dark Fantasy, Medieval, BDSM, Suspension)
A BDSM Dark Fantasy Story
I hung from the suspension beam and took in the aroma of the candle that Monty had burning in the background. It was a morning like many of our others, and I swung back and forth, gently in my leather bondage clothes that he had picked out for me last week at the Gotham Kink Shop down behind the food store. I knew that Monty liked it when I wore my six inch red heels to work, so today I had them on, and hoped that he would be happy when he saw me.
I ran my hands over my big, round breasts and tried to think about how he would react when he saw me. I knew that since I was the first of his women to have such amazing curves that he always had positive reactions to my outfits. His house was dark and quiet, as usual, and a faint smell of incense came wafting through the bondage room. Monty liked to use his bedroom sometimes for our sexual adventures, but this room was special.
What first got my attention about this room was the large, brass knocked on the door outside. Monty usually knocked on it three times to signal his entrance, and he liked it when I responded with “Enter now, King.” He had installed suspension hooks several feet above a plush, velvet pillow. They were large, round hooks, that would have probably held a two ton ox if he had ever wanted to test it for durability. I used to think that it was sort of like strapping in for a solo airplane ride, where only I, as the pilot, could control what would happen next.
The hooks were drilled into the wall that faced an ornate full-length mirror. The mirror was next to Monty’s caged parrot, Benson, that liked to call out “Titties, yes,” especially when our sexual escapades got really intense. Monty’s special room also had dark, black velvet curtains and several pieces of framed, gothic art on the walls that gave it the feel of a city space. I sometimes wondered what my aunt would think if she were to ever find out that this is where I was when I told her I was off to work. But I figured that since he was paying me so well for my services, it might not make that much of a difference if she found out, anyway.
As I hung from my suspension contraption, I thought back to the beginning of the summer, when I had just left the university in Colorado. I had been enjoying a lazy sort of existence after my college classes let out for the year. I knew that I needed to pick up a job for the summer so that I could pay for my tuition at art school again in the fall. My parents passed away when I was in high school, so I learned to rely mostly on my own resources for income. I was living temporarily with my Aunt Melinda, in Flagstaff, Arizona, and was flipping through the local newspaper over breakfast one morning.
“I don’t know, Aunt Melinda. Most of these jobs in here are for people a lot more qualified than me,” I said.
“Well what about going up the street to some of the local restaurants? You have waitressing experience,” Aunt Melinda suggested. She busied herself in the kitchen, making grilled cheese sandwiches for the two of us, and then sat down so that we could eat.
“You know what? I’ll just head up to the Hill after lunch and check out a few of the coffee shops,” I said. “They always have jobs posted on the bulletin boards. Besides, then I can get Paulo to make me one of those amazing vanilla almond lattes,” I said, and smiled.
Aunt Melinda shrugged, apparently deciding that this was as good an idea as any. After we had our lunch, I went upstairs and got changed into my favorite pair of jean shorts. I put on a pink tank-top and a pair of flip-flops. Then I grabbed my purse and got on my bike. The Hill was only about three miles down the road, and was the hip spot for mostly local college kids and tourists to hang out when they weren’t enjoying the outdoors or occupying their time otherwise.
I stepped into the Edge Coffee House, which was one of my favorites. I had known Paulo for years now, and I liked to pop in and visit when I was home from college on breaks. I went to school in Colorado, so I usually flew home on holidays to see Aunt Melinda. I loved living with her in Flagstaff. It was a friendly town with a lot of interesting people for me to strike up conversation with.
“Sophie!” Paulo exclaimed. He ran out from behind the coffee bar and threw his arms around me. Paulo was a short guy with a big smile and an even bigger heart. He truly loved working at the Edge, and he liked to invite local musicians in to play on the weekends. He also did a lot of spoken word events, and he always seemed to attract a unique crowd. “How are you, girl? Home from college already?” he asked.
“I most certainly am,” I nodded my head proudly. It had been a tough semester last spring. I had doubled up on a lot of my classes and it was hard for me to focus on a lot of my studio once the weather became warm and everyone was outside. “I’m still living with my aunt up on Locust Drive,” I motioned toward the street.
“Well I’m so glad to see you again. You’ll have to tell me all about school next time you come in,” he said, and went back to preparing drinks for a long line of customers that had filed in front of the counter. I decided to let Paulo handle his rush, and wandered up to the front of the store where the bulletin board was posted. I glanced over the pets for sale flyers, the babysitter for hire postings, and the free tutoring ads. Then my eye landed on a peculiar ad. I looked closely to see what it said:
Looking for the future,
Can’t reveal the past, hang on to the present and hope make it last.
A Housekeeper is needed, so do you fit the bill
My needs are many, my wants are great, but it will be a thrill.
Pay-rate is exorbitant!
● Call Mr. King at 303. 445.6979
I pulled the ad down and called him as soon as I got home to my aunt’s house.
To think that I had responded to that ad three months ago already was pretty eye-opening. I guess like the saying says, “Time flies when you’re having fun.” In my case, I literally was “flying,” so to speak. I played with my tits a little as I hung from my leather pouch, feeling turned on already just by looking at myself in that mirror. Monty really knew what he was doing when he devised this set-up. I admired myself for a few minutes and then swung back and forth a little, because I anticipated his knock at any minute.
Knock. Knock. Knock. I always got a little shiver down my spine when I heard his knock. I guess even after three months, I still never knew what Monty would come up with, and I always wondered what was coming next. “Enter now, King,” I said, and got myself some momentum so that my swing had some force to it. When he saw me he stood back and clasped his hands.
“Good day, Priestess Sophie,” he said, and then sat down on his velvet chaise lounge. It was decorated in a dragon print, and the flames from its tongue wrapped all the way around the back of the head rest. He smiled and put his hands behind his head, admiring me as he usually did for the first few minutes.
“Good day, King,” I said, and eyed him seductively from my perch.
“What does Benson think?” he asked, and waited for the bird to respond. Benson was silent. “Well, he seems to be reserved, but Priestess, you look incredibly aroused right now,” he said. “What would you like to do first?” he asked. I thought for a moment, and knew that if I told him that I wanted a spanking that my pay rate would reflect it nicely. Monty had a few activities that he liked more than others, and spankings with his switch were one of them.
“I’d
like a spanking, King. I am guilty today, and I feel that I need to be reprimanded,” I said, and rolled my tits around between my fingers. They were hard and I could feel that my pussy was already getting a little wet, too. I knew that Monty would like it if I asked him for this first, because it seemed to set his mood off in a better direction, and my housework for the rest of the day went more pleasantly.
“I’m glad to hear that, Priestess,” he said, and pulled out his switch that he liked to keep beside the chaise. He stood up and watched me for a few moments in silence. I could see that he was wearing his usual black outfit. He usually picked between black pants and black shirt with a cape, or black pants and a black leather vest with studs on the pocket. Most of the time he wore little black slippers with the image of a knight embroidered on the toes.
I waited in anticipation as Monty approached me. He had a thin mustache and small, beady eyes that looked like the color of onyx. I remembered from our initial “interview” that he had a sharp wit about him, and a keen eye for detail, because he noticed my mini-nose piercing almost immediately, and asked me if I had any other body piercings.
As Monty reached me, I waited for him to lower me down slightly. I had the option to control the suspension myself sometimes, but today he liked me to be completely secured, and loosened only by his request. He unwound the lever so that inched my way don, about three feet off the ground. When he stood beneath me, his head was about eye level with my pussy. I waited for him to move behind me, and he circled around, like a cat waiting for its meal.
The switch stung, but it was also pleasurable. Monty always started very slow, and in our three months together, and only once used it to the point that I screamed.
“How is that, Priestess?” he asked.
“Does that make you feel reconciled?” he asked with a smile. Monty had two gold teeth, right in the front of his mouth, and I always got a strange satisfaction out of seeing them when he smiled.
“That is better, King. I feel like I can come down now and go about my chores,” I said.
Monty preferred to call his housework “chores,” for a reason that I never got around to asking about. I felt the sting once more as he whipped my ass once more. I was wearing a thong that morning, and it was the same color as my red heels. Monty seemed to be pleased. He unhooked me from behind, and then sent me on my way with a list. He always had a list, written out in calligraphy on parchment paper.
Today’s list of chores was rather short:
Clean downstairs toilet
Wipe counters with wood oil
Make guest room bed
This meant that he probably wanted me to stay later and either visit with him in the bondage room or stay later and go swimming with him in his indoor pool. Sometimes Monty had guests over, mostly from the surrounding artist communities. Monty was clearly into community sex, as well, and I never knew what kind of crowd might be congregating at his place on any given day.
My aunt thought that I had accepted a job as a housecleaner at one of the local hotels. Flagstaff attracted quite a large tourist crowd, especially during the summer months, so it really wasn’t a far-fetched story when I told her that I worked for a man on his estate as a housekeeper. She was particularly busy, herself, in the summer, since she worked as a caterer, and she often had a full schedule wither weddings and graduations.
“So how is the job going?” she asked me one night over dinner. I had just left Monty’s home and was feeling tired from all of the work he had me do that day. But then I pulled out the wad of cash from my pocket and dumped it on the table. My aunt’s eyes widened.
“Well I guess that answers that question!” she exclaimed. “I’m surprised that he pays you cash,” she said, seeming a little suspicious.
“Most of the housekeeping jobs on the estates pay cash,” I reassured her.
She seemed to accept my response, because she never asked me about work again that summer. On a typical day at Monty’s I could expect to bring home at least a hundred bucks, sometimes closer to two hundred. He had a few other girls that worked for him, as well, but I was his main “priestess,” as he called us. I was always thankful that I had landed this job when I did, because the notice I got in the mail mid-summer informed me that the tuition was being raised for my courses next fall. I needed the money now, more than ever.
I picked up Monty’s list and headed out of the bondage room. His hallway was long and dark, and today he had it lit with small, green candles. A billowing curtain awaited me at the end of the hall, and when I crossed its threshold, I entered the dining room. Monty had a painter there today, and he was working on a portrait of a nude. The woman sat quietly as the painter, who looked to be about forty, brushed away on his canvas.
I decided to start with the counters, and walked into the kitchen to get the wood oil that Monty kept under the sink in the kitchen. I pulled it out and poured some on a cloth, and then I walked back out into the dining room. The woman who was being painted was as still as a statue. I worked alongside them, rubbing the oil into the table that sat between us.
My thong was pulled up high, and my tits were still exposed. This was the one aspect of the job that I enjoyed immensely. Being a big, busty woman meant that confinement was frustrating. I was so relived to have a job where I could let my breasts be free, and where someone could also pay me to admire them. I oiled away, and then moved into the next room that was designed in wall to wall mirrors.
I observed the shape of my ass, and then looked at my legs. I had developed some firm muscles after all of my years as a dancer, and this job accentuated my finer points. I ran a hand up and down my thighs and smiled. This was the kind of job that I wished I’d found a long time ago. I wanted to play with my pussy for a little bit, but I knew that Monty would want me to have everything completed on his list before calling me back to the bondage room. I worked efficiently, finishing both the bathroom toilet and the guest room bed in less than an hour.
Before I left the guest room, I sat down on the bed for a minute. I took off my heels and rubbed my feet. This room was dark, like all of Monty’s rooms. The curtains were drawn and the only light source came from two small candles that were lit on the dresser. A sculpture of a skeleton sat, alone, on the bedside table, and a deck of Tarot cards were spread on the table near the door. I leaned back and slid a finger inside my thong to feel my pussy.
It was hard to work at Monty’s and not feel horny most of the day. Even when I was the only guest in the house, and even when he actually had me doing a lot of housework, I was still allowed surplus time to myself, and with all of these mirrors everywhere, it was hard not to feel sexual all day long. I slid one of my fingers inside my pussy and explored for a little. It was so relaxing, just lying back on that big brass bed and playing with myself. I was really wet, and I fingered myself for a few minutes, and then stopped before I hit an orgasm.
“Priestess, if you’re done in the guest room could you please meet me back at Benson’s Palace?” he asked.
Monty called the bondage room Benson’s Palace, which I found rather amusing. But then, most of what Monty represented was amusing to me. I followed him down the hall, sure that he wanted me to get back into the suspension. Without speaking, we both entered the room and I approached the suspension. I climbed inside, carefully so as not to get tangled, and then I started to swing.
Monty stood beneath and waited for me to get going. Then he reached for a black, felt blind-cloth. I hadn’t seen him pull this out in about a week. He motioned for me to come toward him, and I did so that he could blind-fold me. I always wondered what his expressions were like as I rocked in the suspension, my vision covered. Monty tied the back securely and then got behind me, as he usually did after applying a blind-fold.
I felt his hand on my ass. It was warm with oil. He massaged it with both hands, rolling the thick skin between his fingers and letting out little grunts here and there. He always told me that he found my ass to be absolutely scrumptious. H
e liked that it took two of his hands to hold just one of my cheeks. After he had rubbed in quite a bit of oil, he pushed me off into a swing, and then whipped me from behind with a wet rag.
I always liked this because it felt so primal. At he same time I was hesitant. What if it got to be too much? What if he caused too much pain for me to handle? I let out a few moans, and he whipped me a little harder. Just then Benson piped up. “Titties, yes,” he squawked. I felt his hands on my ass once again, rubbing in the whipped skin with his fingertips, and then gently kissing it with his tongue.
I waited for Monty to come around and face me. Even though I was still blind-folded, I could sense him eyeing my body, and I smiled, timidly. He reached for my tits and squeezed them both in his hands. He played with my nipples and then pulled them gently in between his teeth. He then reached for what I think was a step-stool, and climbed on top of me so that we were facing each other. I could feel his hard dick on my pussy, and since I was only in my thong, its thickness was prominent in my lap.
“Monty, are you going to fuck me?” I asked, knowing that he wanted me badly.
It had been about two weeks of intense bondage play between the two of us, and I knew that today he would finally give me his dick. He pulled it out from behind his black pants and slid it inside my wet pussy. I was able to get a good swing going, with his added weight, so I rocked harder until we had more momentum. He pushed harder and I let out a moan. Even though he was slight in stature, Monty had a big cock. I grabbed his waist as he moved it in and out. Then he yanked off my blind-fold and slid off to the floor.
