My first thoughts on Honour Bondage where that it was not for me. In case you don’t know what honour bondage is, the simple explanation is holding a position or pose rather than being bound/tied in place.

I have a tendency for non compliance. I like a fight and I like to be made to submit and so holding a position didn’t seem like it was very me but on further investigation, also known as talking to The Charmer, I realised that in some situations not only would it work for me but that we had actually done it. There was a very notable time with a chair and a belt when I may or may not have called him a bad name.

Those discussions also extended to other ideas where honour bondage might actually be something I would get off on. I know that enduring something is a big turn on to me and I also know that my competitive nature means a challenge can work for me too. The story below is, for now, a story but one that works for both of us and so when we next get the chance will in some form or other be turned in a reality.

And as a special treat I thought I would read this one to you…

***

“All you have to do is keep you hands on the wall.”

“All I have to do for what?” I reply

“If you want to come, then all you have to do is keep your hands on the wall. Easy right?”

“I very much doubt it. Rarely is anything that easy when you look at my like that” I say pointing to his face

“Like what?” he replies attempting innocence but the grin on his lips is anything but innocent and neither is the large wooden paddle he has in his hand.

I could say no of course. He is more than capable of dealing with me regardless of my answer. We might not have a formal D/s relationship but we have an agreement and a safeword and if wants something then he knows to take it. There is silence as he gives me a moment to think. He doesn’t need to say anything more. I know my options, take the challenge or take the consequences of not doing so.

I step up to the wall and place my hands at about chest height against the smooth surface.

He walks up behind me, brushes my hair from my neck and lightly kisses me there. His lips are warm and soft against my skin. He presses his body into mine, the rough fabric of his jeans rubs against my thighs. He lingers, a hand reaches down inside my top to find my breast. Gently at first he rolls my nipple between his thumb and finger. I can’t help but press my body back into his as his touch sends little waves of longing from my breast to between my legs. He pinches harder, twists more, he find the flesh on my neck with his teeth and starts to bite. My breath hisses from my mouth in response and one of my hands slips slight down the wall. He mumbles into my neck

“Hands on the wall.”

Bastard I think inside my head but I do it, against all my fighting instincts, I comply.

The moment he steps back I miss his touch, my nipple aches inside my top, I want to feel his body pushing into mine. I hate that he is making me wait. Toying with me. Fucking with my head.

“If you are going to do it then fucking get on with it” I snarl

“Pull down your knickers” he replies

For a brief moment I nearly fall for this trick

“No. You said hands on the wall” I bite back

“Oh so I did” he mumbles as he hooks his fingers into the waist band of underwear and draws them down over my thighs.

“So pretty” he mumbles as he runs a hand over bare bottom. “But I am going to make it even prettier” he says as he replaces the warmth of his hand with the cool wood of the paddle.

He starts lightly. Warming up my skin. It feels good. I purr. He lands the paddle harder in response and my purr becomes a yelp. He immediately reverts back to lighter taps but just as I start to relax into it he dials it up again. This time not once but 3 times. Hard, sharp, precise. The paddle is unforgiving. He is unforgiving.

My hands slips down the wall. He waits. I slowly place it back where it was. Buying myself some time? Maybe, but also testing his patience. Oddly the idea of making him lose his patience turns me the fuck on, but he waits. I brace myself expecting to pay for my game playing but he resumes as before and lets me sink into the sensation again, slowly building up the intensity until I am riding on that crest of hot stinging pain that feels oddly like pleasure too.

The first I realise that something has changed is when he presses his body up behind me. He drops the paddle at his side as he fumbles between out bodies, the sound of him unzipping his fly is unmistakable and then he is driving his cock into me. All the way into me. His hands grab my hips and he fucks me, deep and hard and the desire to reach between my thighs and rub at my aching clit almost overwhelming.

“Remember what I said” he growls into my ear “If you want to come you best keep your hands on the wall”

Just when I think he is about to come he stops, holding himself still inside the hot wetness of my cunt before withdrawing, bending down and retrieving the paddle from the floor.

He beats me again. No build up. No gentle. One solid hard intense whack after another all over my ass and straying down onto the back of my thighs. He pauses now, just enough to let me breath, let me process and then he continues.

He fucks me again. He beats me again. Each time the beating are slightly harder than the time before and each time my body aches as he leaves me empty and desperate. He does it again and again. Each time he fucks me it get progressively shorter and I am almost crying with the frustration, the need, the ache between my legs the way my clit throbs but somehow, through it all by some miracle that is very unlike me I manage to keep my fucking hands on the wall even when he produces a little sachet of lube from the pocket of his jeans and pours it over my arse and his rock hard dick, even when he pushes himself into my arse my fingers curl but my hands stay on the wall.

I have not idea how long he has been edging himself in my body but now he is no longer holding back. I can tell by the rhythm, by his breathing, by the way he is holding me tight that he is chasing his orgasm. This time he won’t stop until he empties himself inside my body. This is about his pleasure, his need and he fucks my arse relentlessly. Everything hurts and everything aches, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing over the red raw flesh of my bum, his fingers dig into the skin on my hips, his cock filling my arse. My thighs shake with the strain of it all, my cunt aches to be filled, my clit aches to be touched. He is destroying me and I love it.

He comes with a roar, pushing himself as deep inside me as he can filling my arse with his seed and then he is sliding from my body and I am sliding down the wall onto my knees. Sweat is running down my back and little tendrils of my hair are clinging to my face and neck and my breath is coming in sharp little gasps but my hands? They are still on the wall.

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