Friday, February 14, 2014

Cure for writer's block?

 A Story for Valentine's Day

It's amazing what a hot little BDSM scene can do to unlock the creative muse ... from the novel:
Summer of Love

Happy Valentine's to all my Internet friends and fans. Lizbeth

Novel Excerpt:
Copyright (c) 1998, by Lizbeth Dusseau

Early in the morning, I was hustled from bed while it was still dark. J.T. was particularly disturbed and I kept clear of him thinking it was just some personal musing that put him in the foul mood I’d seen before. It seemed to appear whenever he was wrestling with a fractious poem that was not conforming to his designs for it. On this occasion, however, it seemed it was a miserably peevish poet—me—he was responding to, and his response astounded me.

    “I mentioned I would birch you in the woods. I think today we’ll get the punishment over with.”

    “Punishment for what?”

    “For your complaining, disagreeable, insubordinate attempts to take control of me, Susana Foukhart.”

    J.T. sounded like an old school master, and I shivered like a school girl.

    His gaze leveled me, reduced me to breathless wonder as a cold chill of excited fear made my stomach tie itself in knots, while bolts of sexual fire leapt up to grasp me about the throat.

    The fire was not the only thing that would grasp my throat. Seconds after he made his pronouncement, J.T. produced a leather collar that went about my neck. I spent the remainder of the morning doing my chores attired in collar, corset, bare feet and nothing else.

    Each minute of waiting seemed as though it would never end. I watched the clock on his mantle tick slowly from minute to minute, heard the sound of it as it chimed the quarter hour, and then the half, and then the hour again. I dusted books and polished tables—work I’d done just days before, though J.T. would tell me, “It gets dusty in the woods.”  He was right and I didn’t argue. I might have cleaned the cabin a half dozen times over without stopping to avoid what I was sure would hurt more than any punishment Corey gave my ass.

    “…birch you in the woods …”

    How easy it was to arouse me with so few words. They were lightning rods for my physical pleasure. The waiting was excruciating torture. Each second made me want to run from the cabin and J.T. in fear, or find some excuse to avoid the punishment. But, I was so tantalized by the thought of surrendering to him, I found myself rubbing against door posts and the edge of tables to stimulate my cunt.

    When the sun was high in the sky, J.T. swept into the cabin from outside, stunning me as I was crawling on hands and knees to dust the base of his floo rlamp. He could have spanked me right there, my ass was certainly up in the air, high and bobbing on the currents of air that would tickle my exposed sex and make me lewdly sway some more.

    “You are a tempting sight, Susana,” were his first words seeing my position. I jerked up, and still on my knees, sat back on my heels feeling a little embarrassed. “It’s warm enough, let’s get to the woods and get your discipline handled.”

    I rose. Biting my lip, I kept my eyes lowered—as though being subservient was second nature—perhaps it was. Before we left the cabin, my mentor bound my hands with rope behind me, and finished, he pushed me out the door into the summer sun. We trod brusquely toward the trees just twenty feet beyond the porch, into the protection of the dense forest, following a dusty path that my feet and his boots covered in seconds. It hadn’t rained in a week and the ground was unusually dry. Tripping my way along, trying to keep up with J.T.’s broad stride, my feet caught stones and twigs though I was too scared to let him know how my toes and heels suffered. When he pushed me into the thicker growth off the path, he slowed, acknowledging that it was difficult for me to walk at such a brisk pace. Thankfully, our journey off the forest trail was brief. He quickly found a suitable tree on which to let me hang.

    My only wish was that I’d been tied against the thick trunk of a towering pine—so my screaming pussy might press itself against the bark and let its scratchy bark bring me off. As it was, J.T. undid my hands from behind, retied them in front of me, and threw the long end of his rope over the branch of a tree, stringing me up in the center of a small clearing where there was nothing for me to touch and my body dangled at his mercy. While flies and bugs buzzed around me and I wiggled to shoo them off, J.T. gazed at me, the stern look on his face frightening.

    A moment later, he was gone, disappearing into the woods in front of me as though he was on another mission. I panicked for an instant, and was greatly relieved to see him emerge some minutes later from between the trees. Though I could enjoy the fact that he hadn’t left me to the bugs and animals, my relief immediately ended seeing the instrument of my punishment in his hand. He held a bundle of branches, and while I stared at him in fascination, I watched him strip away any leafy twigs that remained on the long thin stalks. There must have been eight or ten, but it was difficult to count. Taking a long leather shoelace in his hand he wrapped one end into a handle while the mean end of these tied birches made an erratic implement of terror.

    I twitched nervously, shooing off another tickling fly.

    “I’m sure you’ll be wiggling soon enough so the flies won’t be a bother,” J.T. said. “It’s my plan to use these until I wear them out.” 

    I know my heart leapt with fear and excitement hearing his plans. But I didn’t reply. Nervously staring into his face, I saw an expression I didn’t expect. Strangely compassionate, his mood stunned me. “It might surprise you to know that I don’t relish this. Discipline is a fact of nature for some women—and for you, Susana, it is very important in your education, because of your own fantasy and how you define yourself so submissively. Not to take you to this end would insult the woman that you are, and deprive you of a need that reverberates through you like the sun and wind through these trees.”  He stared overhead a moment then looked back at me. Coming closer, his touch to my raised shoulders was affectionate. As he stroked my cheek, I leaned into it, thinking he’d pity me and change his mind. But it wasn’t really pity that I wanted. J.T. knew me very well.

    “I know you’re not going to enjoy the heart of this. It will hurt. Yet, the pain will make you shudder deeply and drive out those nasty demons of despair. It will revive you and call up the muse that’s been waiting dormant inside.”  His voice was little more than a whisper—arousing me with each word. He stroked my ass with the same affection he touched my cheek. The feel of it made me quiver, and if he were to have caressed my cunt, I’m sure the spasms would have ignited into a jarring orgasm. “You’ve been a compliant woman, you’ve worked very hard, Susana, becoming yourself these last few days. I am proud of you for your willingness to yield. For the way you know your need—though I’m sure you’re petrified inside—the way you’ve embraced what I’ve given you.”

    “But I rebelled last night,” I reminded him. After hearing such words from him, I felt so guilty for forcing things the night before.

    “A little rebellion keeps your spark alive as much as your submission,” he returned kindly, his hands still doting affectionately as caressed my flesh. “I will apologize to you in advance for the way this will make you scream. Some men find it arousing to punish a woman, and so do I, but there is always a piece of me that worries over the severity. I do know how your heart beats, and you must trust me to know how severe to take it and when to stop. The fact that you’ve allowed me this far into you tells me much.”

    “I love you, Jack,” I whispered.

    “I know you do, Susana,” he whispered back. “And I know you’ll love me more by the time the day is over.

    “I’m going to gag so you can’t beg me for mercy, and I’m going blindfold you so you’ll go inside yourself. Take it all in, Susana, and let it inspire you.” 

    Oh, Jack!  My mind was spinning, but my mouth could produce no reply.

    As he pulled a bandana from his pocket, I watched in awe as he stooped to retrieve a short fat stick from the forest floor. Covering it with the handkerchief to keep its sharp edges from cutting, he then pressed it into my face like a horse’s bit. The stick awkwardly opening my mouth so my teeth could easily bite into the wood. Securing it with a strip of leather, the gag was so wedged into my mouth, I was in tears, knowing my last refuge, my last means of release had been taken from me. I was totally in his hands, at the whim of a man I wondered if I even knew. For a moment, I struggled with the rope that held my hands.

    “Let go, Susana,” I heard him whisper in my ear. “Let go.”  His voice was so gentle, his loving hands so supremely tender, I tried to relax, letting myself fall into the feelings of love they generated within me.

    When a second handkerchief blinded my eyes, all my panic disappeared, as my body and soul fell into the feel of him. I rested my back against the comfort of his firm chest, my head falling against his shoulder. He caressed me tenderly until everything in me gave in and was at ease.

    “You’re a beautiful woman,” he whispered just before he backed away, and then he was gone.

    I waited only seconds before the bundle of birches took away my thoughts. Nothing remained in my mind but the burning, stinging sensation of distress the thrashing branches caused my flesh. J.T.’s crude implement came down brusquely against the skin of my ass, as he whipped the things over and over, pausing at odd intervals to let me breathe, and then starting in again with another round of agony. The pain was sweet and biting, alternating between excruciating and blissful. I was in love with the bite one second and then hating it so much, I’m sure if I wasn’t gagged, I would have spewed out a string of angry indictments, beginning with You fucking bastard!

    The more I let go, dropping into the depth of my body, the less it truly pained me. I swam in the heat of it, the intensity driving me mad so I struggled, then released and let the sensation soar. When I squirmed the most, he might ease off, or might flog me like the devil. When he eased, I would sigh and regain some composure, finding my body bottoming out and rising wildly in nearly orgasmic joy. When he beat me hard, I futilely screamed into the gag and bit down on the wooden stump.

    Then as the man slowed the pace, my body caught up to the sensation. For a long time there was nothing but pleasure, my mind blown apart, nothing but body, nothing but skin, nothing but desiring flesh, and a lively cunt. I must have looked like a lewd dancing woman to any eyes that saw my distressful birching. But that is only an idea I have the liberty to think of now that I’m miles and years from that day.

    When he stopped, the first thought in my head, was, “please begin again …”

    But then, as he cut me down, I was glad it was over.

    Jack stroked my face as he pulled away the blindfold. Cradled in his arms while he sat on an old stump, I stared into his eyes. At least for a few moments he seemed as exhausted as I was. His gaze filled me with wonder, infused with both affection and a ruthless commitment to his plans. I wasn’t sure whether to love that look or fear it. I felt his hand on my cunt, his fingers burrowing their way deep into my parted thighs. He gave me pleasure at the door to my vagina, and my oft spasming cunt was dripping wet with its need for more. To my amazement, however, he moved his wet fingers rapidly rearward, pushing them into my ass while my splayed posture accommodated the violation.

    Ah, Jack, no, I would have cried.

    “Easy now, Susana,” he purred to me kindly. “Relax and let me enter.”

    I did seize up for several moments, too scared to let those probing fingers please me, but the longer I stared into his calm face, the more I was soothed, the more those fingers gave me some physical luxury I’d never known before. He drove them deep into the opening cavern and for a while moved them like a cock. When he withdrew, it was only to spread more of my sticky cum juice to lubricate the tentative pathway.

    I gasped, and gasped again, biting down for a while on the stick that remained in my mouth. I’m sure he could see the terror in my eyes, but then how it relinquished when I realized there was no pain as long as I let go my fear.

    “I’m going to turn you over on this stump, my dear Susana,” he spoke in a dreadful hush. “I’m going to spread your cheeks and put my erection where my fingers are now. You will feel a pain and tightness, your body will want to lock tight against it, but you will allow me in.” Hearing his plans, I went rigid in his arms, but his fingers simply kept up their exploration of my untried ass. “You will think only of the pleasure in surrendering all your will to me. You will not think of your distress, but only of the joy you’ll give me in the yielding. Let yourself go, let the sensation wash over you. Don’t think, don’t fear, let go.”

    Ah, how he soothed me, his words little by little untying all the knots of fear that tightened my insides. Finally drawing his hand away, he undid the wooden bit, freeing my mouth, though he placed his finger over my lips telling me I wasn’t to speak.

    Pulling me off of his lap, I nearly panicked again, but his hands didn’t leave me for even a second. Fondling, caressing, moving tenderly about my flailed ass cheeks, he revealed an affection for me I hadn’t realized until that day. His loving kindness eased my nerves, reminding that he would take my ass, just as he promised, and I would love it. In position for the assault, I didn’t care that the old tree stump was scratching my belly, or that my knees were pressing into the prickly blanket of pine needles of the forest floor. I thought only of what was happening to my ass, the feel of Jack’s hands, the calming touch, the driving fingers working the channel, and then the pulse of his dick as the head of it pressed against my sphincter and began to push its way inside.

    “Ahhhhhhhh,” my gasp was long and slow, coming from a dark place inside me where these feelings of release and letting go are born. Such surrender felt like letting pieces of myself fly away in the summer breeze that tickled my skin with playful games of hide and seek.

    Jack fucked my ass hard, like he would my cunt at night when the lights went out. But there wasn’t a single second that I didn’t feel him surround me with kindness. His hands did not quit their intimate play, and if it was possible, his touch became more tender as the deep probing of my rear channel became more abrupt and shocking. As though I was in the middle of a great storm, colors and light flashed before my inner eyes and I imagined myself screaming with pleasure, though I know, except for a few torrid gasps and pants, I was silent. When I finally felt him burst within me, I heard his luscious groan like music, then all else drifted away until he withdrew, and his hands lifted me gently to my feet.

    “Now, Susana, you are ready to write,” he whispered, and arm in arm we returned to his cabin.

Dedicated to: MNK