By The Clothes Line


– I’m doing some more freeform writing and don’t intend to edit it. Here I am in raw form. I do hope you enjoy –

I bet you had no idea what I was doing when I bought the pegs. I bet you never suspected what I was up to.

When I asked you to accompany me outside to the clothes line, did you ever put two and two together? Did you ever think I would order you to undress? I mean, our backyard fences are low. People can definitely can see your naked self. Did you ever think I was capable of such an act? Me? The quiet guy?

Did you ever think that you’d be cuffed to the wire above, arms outstretched? Did you ever think those pegs would go on your nipples? The nipples that are hardened by the cool and gentle breeze.

I heard you whimper as I clamped them down. A noise lost somewhere between a moan and a cry.

How is your mind, by the way? I’ve stood here smacking your ass with our faux-leather paddle and I’ve heard it hit your ass with a silent thwack. But you’ve made no sound. You know you must keep quiet. Or maybe you don’t want to draw the neighbours attention? Clever girl.

Your ass gets pink after the tenth strike and with that, I am satisfied to move on to the next phase: your favourite toy. I wonder if you know what’s coming? We’ve been together these past years, maybe I am predictable? Do you know what I’ll pull out of the backpack beside me? Your eyes are wide but glossy with arousal.

When I pull your favourite toy from the bag, your eyes seemed to break. There’s something behind those eyes…fear, is it? We both know you can’t keep quiet with this one. I’ve seen you ride it for me and I know it hits all the right spots. So when you swing your legs to try and get away from me, I can’t help but smile.

“Master, please” You begin but when the toy touches you, your head tilts back and you let out a low cry.

I don’t slide the toy in – no that would be too easy. I want to make this slow. I rest it against your clit ever so gently.

I can see your arousal, make no mistake. I can see you glisten in the sunlight, my little angel. But you are not going to come. Not yet.

Your lips tremble, I can see that as you blow the hair out of your eyes. Did you beg for me? I cannot tell, it was ever so quiet.

I hold the toy there on your clit. You squirm and try to kick your legs so the clothes line will move. But its futile. You’re left hanging there, the clamps still attached to your nipples.

You’re a marvellous sight, you know that? Your chest heaving, your legs trembling.

With my other hand, I lift the paddle off the ground and strike your ass once more. You struggle with the pain but still hold back the noise.

Suddenly, I have an idea. The world needs to hear your submission. It needs to hear you proclaim your status. Needs to hear you revel in it. I am not going to reward you until you are vocal about it.

I strike your ass. “Don’t hold back”

I apply pressure to your clit. Your legs quake violently. You bite your lip to hold back your moan but that’s not what I am after. I strike you again.

“I want to hear you. Don’t hold back.”

You seem breathless, agitated. You can’t seem to find the words. Your mouth hands open on the one word.

I strike you again, you come close to letting out a scream.

“Please” You whisper. “Please, I can’t…”

I strike you with the paddle again, your ass swings with the motion.

I slip the vibrating toy across your sweet lips, applying pressure so that the tip of it slides in ever so gently. “You know what you need to do”

“The neighbours..I’m…”

“You’re what?”

You hang your head and close your eyes.

“I am going to tell you this one more time. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll leave you here for the storm. I here it is raining this afternoon. Don’t. Hold. BACK.”

I wonder if you realise how angry you are making me? I hope it shows through my gritted teeth.

With that, I plunge the toy into your sweet cunt. You instantly let out a grunt, somewhere between surprise, pain and arousal. It makes my cock rock hard.

At that, I work your cunt. Your toy pumps you and with each thrust, it becomes slick and covered in your juices. You’re not holding back now, like the good girl you are. You are moaning, rocking your hips into the toy as much as you can. I feel the eyes looking at me from either side of the backyard fence. I keep sliding the toy in and out of you. In and out, in and out. Your feet can’t keep to the ground, your knees are buckling and are making them weak.

I find myself getting lost in the moment, fixated on plunging the vibrating toy into you. I can hear you moaning the word ‘Master’ as your sweet shaven cunt takes your favourite toy but the rest is incoherent as you ride away.

That’s when you jolt violently, your knees squeezing together and thrusting forward. Your pitch rises and you begin to swear. I surely hope there aren’t any children watching, you filthy whore.

I’ll leave you there to enjoy the throes go your orgasm. Then you’re to have a bath for my pleasure and make good use of the shower head for me.


16 thoughts on “By The Clothes Line

      1. I’m not into BDSM, but I’m always curious about things. You explain it very nicely and passionately. While what you described in this post would not be my cup of tea, I would enjoy being with my love someplace where we could be seen. It would have to be someplace where we didn’t know anyone, though. Anyway, your writing was so beautifully provocative it fueled a fantasy of my own.


      2. I’m honoured to have set up shop in your head. I hope I plant a few seeds that rattle around in there that can fuel your mind for days! Feel free to always check in regardless. You may not enjoy it but hopefully it’ll be insightful.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Yes, thank you. I like a tamed down version. I like my man to be possessive – I like belonging to someone – and I would really love my man directing me and I’ve always wanted to be tied up – and something I think you wrote is true, that submitting to someone you trust frees you so you don’t have to think about anything, but I don’t like the degradation part. I can even understand the spanking, but being called a slit our whore would be hurtful. I think you are also right that someone who is submissive – and there are a lot of women like me who don’t go so far as BDSM but who want their partner to take control – is strong in life. I am anything but submissive in life. I was aggressive and dominated in my career. But that’s why it’s a relief to find that extremely rare person you trust, with whom you can let go. And for me, as a woman, I like traditional roles in relationships. I’m like you, an eighteenth century woman living in the 21st Century.

        Anyway! Thank you.


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