The light breeze drifted through the small copse of trees, its murmuring susurration barely stirring the leaves, and offering little succour to her reddening face.
She was tied by each wrist to two sapling trees, one on each side of her. Her arms spread wide, her wrists secured at hip height with just enough slack in the rope to allow her to move a scant inch. But it was not her bindings that were causing her face to flame. It was the slow, deliberate clicking sound as he unzipped her strapless summer dress, as he towered behind her, it was feeling the warmth radiating from him, it was being so aware of how close he stood, of his even measured breathing, of her helplessness, of his completely calm control.
She was naked beneath the dress, that’s what he had instructed when he had handed it to her. It was a perfect and flattering fit, (of course, he would not suffer himself to have any poor judgement), it was a delicate cream-coloured, form-fitting dress, enscribed with stylised blue birds in flight. It was beautiful, classy, certainly suitable for the evening garden party she had thought they were attending. But that was before, before she had forgotten herself and let her glib tongue get her into trouble. She knew he detested being called by his full name, had warned her that she was never to use it, so long as she wished him to be her master, but a glass or two of wine had loosened her caution, and in the light banter of conversation, it had slipped out.
His reaction had been instantaneous, freezing mid-stride on their amble through the pleasant countryside to fix her with a look so stern and dark that she wished she could pull the words back out of the air, and render them again unsaid. But it was too late, she had been warned, and now, she would pay the price for her disobedience. So now she stood, tethered and helpless as the zip completed its traitorous journey south and he began to draw the dress down her body, the smooth material caressing her skin as it all too readily slipped away, baring her naked skin to the air. It fell in a puddle around her sandal-clad feet, and she started as she felt his fingers brush the outside of her knee. His touch was gentle but insistent, its command unmistakable. She raised her foot and felt him draw the dress away, lifting the other in turn so that he could remove the material altogether.
His lips brushed teasingly against her neck, and she squirmed trying to press against him, to gain more than the light whisper of a kiss, but the feel of his breath drifted upwards to whisper softly in her ear.
“If you cannot follow my rules, you cannot keep my gifts, my love.” His words were not spoken unkindly, but a thrill rippled through her at knowing beyond doubt she was to be punished. Her embarrassment melted away, replaced with the twinned electricity of apprehension and desire. She was worried about what he would do, and excited to experience it. Jubilant and a little afraid. That pulsing sensation along with the whispering breeze across her exposed skin was having an effect already, and as her nipples began to swell and harden in response to her mounting arousal, she prayed silently that he would remain behind her, that he wouldn’t see her enjoying what was meant to be a punishment.
She felt his hot breath on her other ear, as his strong hands gripped her hips, again his voice came, soft, gentle, smooth.
“I do hope no one happens by whilst I am reminding you of my rules, there would be precious little left to their imagination.”
The reality of that hit her like a pale of icy water, she was naked, totally naked, in a public field, strapped to two small trees that offered no concealment. Worse with her arms tied so, she would have no chance to try and conceal herself should anyone happen across this place. Reflexively she squeezed her thighs together, as if she could cover her naked skin so easily. She heard his soft chuckle and felt his hands glide down the length of her legs to grasp each of her ankles in powerful fingers. The caress was delightfully slow and deliberate and reawoke some of her arousal, but it spoke of a darker intent, that set her mind to racing again.
“Now, now, my love, we wouldn’t want to prevent them from seeing you in your full glory.”
His voice came from lower behind her, kneeling she surmised, as she felt a slithering sensation around her ankle. It took a moment for her frazzled mind to recognise the feeling, too late she identified the sensation of soft rope as he bound first one, then a second ankle to the saplings, forcing her to stand with both her legs and arms spreadeagled and fully exposed. The rippling breeze gained access to the skin of her inner thighs and beyond to her now exposed and vulnerable sex, teasing her with a sensation that made her twist against her bindings. “I’m so sorry sir” she gasped “please forgive me my error” for a moment he was still, and terror raced through her heart that he was going to leave her there alone, bound, naked and helpless for all to see.
His hand caressed her back, tracing the line of her spine, it was warm, comforting, and reassuring. But his words hung in her mind. “Full glory,” he had said, a stark reminder of her transgression, she had used his full name, his forbidden name, now he was exposing her fully in chastisement. Her limbs trembled, but she didn’t beg to be freed, she knew the rules, had agreed to them, had agreed to a list of activities and punishments. How she now wished she had ticked “no” to public nudity. But this was the price, if she wanted him, and she wanted, no, she needed him. She could endure even this.
She tried to prepare herself, to mentally brace for the first sting of the crop on her bare skin. The first was always the worst, shocking and sharp, it was always as if somehow her mind dulled how much it had stung the last time, until that first one landed. She tried to calm her breathing, and to not tense up, determined not to cry out lest she call any nearby people to investigate the sounds.
She became aware of the sense of him, standing before her, her eyes snapped open in time to see him sink to one knee. Before she had time to comprehend, his lips touched the inside of her left thigh. She gasped aloud as she felt him kiss his way up the length of her thigh, his teeth gently rasping on her flesh as he worked his way inexorably upwards. She twisted against the ropes again, torn between need and rising panic, she knew what that tongue could do, how he made her moan and writhe whenever he used it on her. It was always amazing, intense, and passionate, he always drove her to heights of pleasure with that cursed tongue. Any other time she would welcome it, but not here, standing spreadeagled and naked, for the whole world to see her climax.
But it was too late, his lips had finished their journey, and his probing tongue swept expertly across her, igniting a cacophony of sensation in her already overstimulated senses, her moan escaped despite her best efforts to restrain it.
His words rippled back as she fought to hold onto control – “Full glory.” He hadn’t meant her nakedness, he had meant her orgasm, and the bastard was going to bring it to her, right here and now. She should hate this, everything about it should leave her feeling vulnerable, afraid and exposed. But as her rising lust burned through her, the indecent nature of what he was doing became less and less horrifying, and more arousing, as her passion built swelling to its inevitable crescendo, she surrendered. Letting her head roll back she rocked her hips against him, against his tongue, no longer holding back her whimpers of need and pleasure but allowing them full voice at last, no longer caring if anyone saw, there was only her master, and the pleasure he gave her.
