This week, winter swept into the Midwest with a vengeance...we've hardly recuperated from last year's polar vortex. Time to snuggle in with some sexy porn. What better way to beat the early winter blues than a hot BDSM fantasy scene on a warm beach...staked to the ground.
Excerpt from my novel:
Undress Her For Dinner
For more information on this novel, click here
It was eight pm when JD picked me up at my apartment. I was on the street waiting for him, feeling strangely anxious. It was just our second date, but I felt oddly comfortable using the term boyfriend to define our relationship.
We drove north away from the city and the suburbs into Wisconsin, to a beach on a pristine lake, which appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the rolling farmland. The shore was lined with trees; a crescent moon glowed off the water. It was beautiful in the dark, a cool almost balmy night for that time of year.
We hiked to a section of clean beach sand near the water, where JD dropped the blankets he carried, leading me to believe that we would snuggle between them.
“Take off your clothes,” he told me.
I stood before him, nervously considering what sounded much like an order.
“Do it,” his voice, while remaining pleasant, had a terse bite behind it.
Shuddering with expectation, I immediately grabbed for the hem of my sweatshirt and pulled it up and over my torso. I was naked underneath, a fact that JD noted without comment.
I stared down, seeing my breasts and their knotted nipples glowing pearly white in the moonlight. My entire being brightened with sexual fire. He would fuck me right there on the sand!
Oh, but it was not that simple.
Without needing to be reminded, arousal dictating my next move, I continued taking off my clothes, removing my blue jeans and even the tiny panties that barely covered the small bush of hair at my crotch.
“Lie down on the sand,” he said.
I stared into his eyes, mesmerized and confused, but feeling oddly submissive to what seemed more like a demand than a request. I lay down as he asked, feeling a chill make my burning insides quake as the cold from beach sand seeped into my body.
“Spread your limbs, Natalie.” I loved the way the syllables of my name rolled off his tongue. Small nuances move me. This was one. He owned and controlled me in that moment, and I let him have me because the awesome sensations racing about me cleared out my fears.
“Have you ever been bound for sex?” he asked.
“Once,” I admitted, sounding very tentative, “but it was hardly anything.” This was a lie, because I’d been bound dozens of times in the past, but I wanted to feel as if this was the first time.
“But I doubt you’ve been staked to the ground?” he suggested.
“No, never.” And this was true. But staked to the ground? My mind chewed on that thought, as nagging doubts about this night and JD surfaced quickly.
His smile appeared full pure evil, though the playful twinkle in his eye kept me from refusing him.
This was no ordinary staking. JD used four, two-foot metal stakes, frightening rods that once hammered into the earth could not be budged. Using a heavy mallet, he drove each stake into the sand at the four corners of my body. Then he wound my wrists with thick white cotton rope five times making perfectly neat side-by-side rows. He tied the ends to the three-inch notches at the top each stake. I couldn’t have been more bound, or more powerless to save myself.
“You’re surprisingly placid,” JD said, as he dropped between my parted thighs, his hand searching the valley between my legs.
“I don’t know what’s come over me,” I answered him. “I feel so helpless.”
“You are helpless,” he said. His face was filled with love and devotion I don’t remember feeling from any man, and yet, I’d just been staked to the ground. How could I possibly trust him when I hardly knew him? How could I be sure that he wasn’t one of those clever men who shrewdly seduce women one moment and turn on them viciously the next? How could I have allowed him to bind me, to stake me a deserted beach in the middle of nowhere? I must have trusted him or been so horny that I didn’t care if I died that night.
As the minutes passed I waited in wonder. My eyes never strayed from his determined expression or his virile body.
When he removed his sweatshirt and jeans, he revealed an eight-inch erection that stood out from his nest of black pubic hair like an angry spear. I caught his scent, the dark and musty aroma of his lust. Straddling my body, he crawled forward up my torso until his knees were on either side of my head and his prick touched my lips.
“Open up,” he said.
I did so naturally. This was a difficult position for a really good blowjob, but it was perfect for fucking my face, for shoving his penis down my throat, which was exactly what I expected him to do. I was sure that I would gag, as I often do when some guy’s trying a heavy-handed deep throat and I’m not quite sure it’s what I want. Even this time, my gag reflex waited on the sidelines, ready to suddenly clench up the muscles in my throat. But as JD slowly lowered his cock into my mouth, and my lips closed over it, I felt the penetration in a new way. Part of me opened with full acceptance—another first. I knew this was surrender, something I never imagined could be so completely arousing. My belly and crotch ached with every gentle thrusting move he made. His cock impaled me deep into my throat, then slowly withdrew to the tip only to dive down again, deeper and more forcefully.
“That’s it, girl. Just a little more,” he said quietly, as he worked my mouth. He moved slowly at first with his momentum gaining speed. I could sense he wanted to come this way, in total domination of the moment and me. I wanted that too. Was it the challenge of it? Was it true surrender? I’m not sure. But regardless of my inner motives, I began to suck, with my jaws working his powerful muscle in hopes this would make him climax quickly.
I suppose it did help. The energy radiating from his lower body washed over me. I felt not like myself, but part of the beach, the earth itself, an orifice and nothing more.
JD came with his body shaking frantically over me, his cock lunging ever deeper into my throat where he finally deposited his seed. I lapped the retreating organ greedily when he pulled out while still ejaculating copious amounts of cum in my mouth, on my lips and finally the last of his cum hitting my chin.
Spent, JD slumped exhausted on the sand beside me, while I lay stretched out like a sacrifice, unable to move, or wipe my face, or do anything to bring about the climax my body desired.
He stared at me, appraising my predicament with amusement. “A really good finale would be for me to get dressed and leave you here,” he said.
“Oh, but you wouldn’t,” I said with some certainty in my voice.
“Of course not,” he agreed. “But on the other hand, I’m not done using you. I would think you’d be a bit disappointed if I were.”
“Yes, I would be,” I answered. I wanted and expected him to pay some attention to my raw, wanting splayed crotch.
I gazed at his naked body, desirously. I don’t ordinarily think much of most men’s bodies—except for those that are perfectly sculpted by good diet and exercise. But how many of those men do you really get to fuck? Though JD’s body wasn’t one of those perfect ones, he did have an appeal that made me wish he would climb back on me and rub his sinewy muscles against my sweaty skin. The more I mulled that fact, the more my body responded. Yet, there I was desiring him but at his mercy, bound and staked and hardly able to budge an inch inside the tight constraints.
“Of course, I’ll do anything you want,” I replied. “Don’t have much choice.”
“That’s what I like about bondage,” he said. “It may reduce my options, but it grants me all the rights.” He was terribly smug and I loved that too.
Then, as if to rattle me further, he stood up and jogged to the water where he sank in over his head and washed the sweat away. Peering down over the ends of my toes, I could just barely see the subtle splash of water as he swam some distance and out of sight. My heart beat frantically—my mind raced with a hundred what ifs. Just before I panicked and screamed, I spotted his wake, and then his body climbing out of the wet darkness. He returned to me and dried himself on a towel.
“Damn cold,” he shivered as he vigorously rubbed himself.
I stared into his eyes, quaking, hot, chilled, confused. “That was a terrible thing to do.” I wanted to cry.
“You were worried?”
“Of course I was. What if…”
“Hush. Think about what you’re feeling, my bound beauty.” He put his toe to my crotch and wiggled it toward the center, raising that familiar sensation of desire.
He saw it in my eyes as I moved through the emotions of panic, fear and anger to what I wanted from the start.
Curiously, JD did exactly what I was hoping for. Although the cold water had shriveled his prick and balls into a tiny reflection of his more potent self, I knew that even as powerless as I was, I could take care of that condition. My body heat was on the rise again.
Taking the bait, JD dropped down to the sand and straddled my hips. Leaning forward, he rubbed his chest against my chest while covering my lips with kisses. I felt his cock rising between his legs as it rubbed against my lower belly and thighs.
“You’ll make me cum if you fuck me now,” I murmured.
He kissed me more. Then ran his tongue down my neck. He teased my underarms with nibbles so sensuous and tentative that I started to thrash about, pulling at the ropes that bound me. I mewled loudly, my excitement on such an edge I was afraid of where it would take me, afraid that I’d tear my limbs from my body with the violent gyrations. But I couldn’t stop.
“Look at me, Natalie,” JD said sharply. He clutched my chin in his firmly gripping fingers and stared down at me with hard eyes. The tumult of sensation quieted to a dull, but less vicious roar. “You lie still and allow. I’m in charge, not you,” he said quite calmly. “Contain your movement. Let what you feel brew like a great storm.”
“But I can’t,” I uselessly gasped, as I ineffectively arched my hips toward his.
He immediately slapped my face, the sound of it ringing down the silent beach. The slap so surprised me that for an instant I felt like a cowed and cornered animal, afraid and worried that I had JD pegged all wrong. At the same time, the heat of the slap radiated outward in another lustful burst of energy that swept my body. I could still feel the imprint of his big hand on my cheek, and then so much more as he began to move on me again. I would lie still this time.
On orders to contain myself, the physical sensations intensified, swarming like bees inside my body. I wanted to move on him in reply, but didn’t. I rather liked the threat hanging over me and my physical excitement bloomed. How was this possible?
From teasing me, JD’s cock grew hard as a colossal staff. Soon, the thing was poking teasingly at my center, like rapping on a door—but not begging. No. JD knew just when he’d thrust himself in me again and he waited, playing that torturous game of cat and mouse, until I found the torment unbearable. Panic rose as strongly as my sexual passion.
“Please, I can’t anymore,” I beseeched him.
I wanted him to strike me down again, and he did. He slapped my face for my complaint, and my body quieted for a few minutes as he taunting me with promises. Then when I was most subdued, JD suddenly impaled my cunt and began the relentless fuck to the finish. He didn’t care then that my inner need took over, that I thrashed like a beached fish, or whimpered in anguish. I was cumming. He was cumming. Both of us senseless and uncontrolled. We came until there was nothing left in him and little left in me. Although my spasms kept on even after he pulled out, we were both spent.
Finished with this scene, JD untied the ropes that bound my arms to the stakes, and one of the ankle restraints—thus, I was still pinned to the beach by that ankle, but free enough to move around.
I turned on my side and settled inside his arms, comforted by his strength and warmth and kindness, while the brutal sand beneath me reminded me of my submission and the hard heart in JD’s sadistic soul. With my mind now swept of all conscious thought, my receptors opened, able to discern truth without any blind spots to skew my perceptions. I detected a troubling uneasiness in JD. This surprised me. Here I was so content, even after being so roughly taken. Not knowing JD well, and still feeling submissive to his control of me, I chose to simply record my impressions and say nothing about them. This could be nothing at all, or something important. But I’d leave that answer for another time.
Copyright (c) Lizbeth Dusseau, all rights reserved. May not be used without permission.