Statuesque by Adrian Hunter (bd, mf)

Statuesque

By Adrian Hunter

"Strip."

The lash of the crop snapped like a firecracker against

the palm of his leather-gloved hand.

"Now."

She reached behind her back and slowly unzipped her

dress. He nodded approvingly as she eased the straps off her

shoulders and let it fall soundlessly to the floor.

Her eyes remained locked on whatever was behind his

impenetrable sunglasses while she removed her high heels and

then her stockings.

"Continue."

Snap.

She quickly peeled off her bra and panties.

"Very good."

He rose from his easy chair and approached her.

"Don't move."

She couldn't help shivering as he used the crop to

inspect her, poking and probing her naked body like she was

some kind of specimen.

He snaked the tip between her thighs.

"Open."

As she moved her legs apart, he ran the crop up against

her pale flesh until it reached the soft folds of her secret smile.

A small cry escaped her lips as he pushed the length of

the stiff leather shaft deeper and deeper inside her.

"Tsk."

He pulled out the crop from between her legs and

walked behind her.

She heard the whistle just before the lash exploded

against her defenseless cheeks.

"You will not speak in my presence again."

He walked back to his chair and reached into the large

antique trunk lying next to it.

Her eyes grew wide when she saw the complicated

combination of leather, metal and rubber in his hand. She

tried her best not to resist as he buckled the long and rigid

posture collar around her neck.

She sneaked a sideways glance, only to see a fat black

plug centered on a wad of thick foam just before it was pushed

into her mouth.

"Mmpf."

A gloved hand shot down and caught her hard against

the trimmed triangle below her waist.

He finished fastening the straps that ran around her

mouth and over the top of her head. The edge of the collar

pushed up her chin, forcing her to contemplate the angle

running along the length of the room where the wall met the

ceiling.

When she tried to look down, she couldn't see anything

but the floor in front of her, the bands across her cheeks, and

the tip of her nose.

She could smell the leather and taste the rubber, though.

And she definitely felt his hands as he stood unseen behind

her, caressing and then squeezing her breasts as if he was

kneading bread.

"Hold your hands out, palms up."

She wasn't surprised to find them trembling.

"Cross your wrists."

His hands dropped away from her now-aching chest.

"Bring your hands up to your tits. Good."

She felt her heart beating like the drums in "Whole

Lotta Love."

"Now, find your nipples and pinch them. Hard."

She drew a sharp breath through her nose.

"Harder."

He came back into view, heading for the trunk.

"Don't let go."

At first, she couldn't tell what he was up to until he

kneeled in front of her and began applying talcum powder to

her legs.

"Pick up your right foot and point your toes."

The latex felt clammy against her foot as he unrolled it

around her heel.

"Foot down."

It seemed to take him forever to get to the top of her

thigh.

"Lift your left foot."

So this is what a sausage feels like when it's being

made.

Next came a pair of pumps with five-inch stiletto heels,

then a steel spreader bar with wide leather cuffs bolted to the

ends.

It was hard to keep her balance and hang onto her

nipples at the same time. But she was determined to manage.

She felt dry, warm air on the traitorous moistness

between her extended legs.

"Pull your nipples out. Farther."

She winced as his finger flicked against the taut aureole.

"Hold them right there."

Her breathing turned into something closer to panting.

He applied wide plastic-tipped clamps sideways across

her extended nipples so they were left permanently and

painfully stretched out almost an inch,

"You may let go now"

Fire raged in her upper torso as she dropped her hands

to her sides. Her freedom was short-lived as he quickly cuffed

her wrists and pulled her hands behind her head, then

padlocked them to a ring on the back of her collar.

The foam around the plug in her mouth was thoroughly

soaked.

Without a word, he returned to the trunk and pulled out

a short-handled flogger and what looked like a pet hairbrush.

The kind with the metal spines.

Half an hour later, he unlocked her wrists, only to

reconnect them to new straps around her thighs. He moved

his easy chair around so its back faced her.

"Bend over."

As soon as her tortured skin touched the fabric, he

entered her forcefully from behind. After a few minutes of

jagged thrusting, he pulled out and repositioned himself

against her other, less-experienced orifice.

She moaned uncontrollably as he pushed himself deeply

inside her.

When he was finally satiated, he removed the spreader

bar, the cuffs around her wrists and thighs, and the latex

stockings. The heels, unfortunately, stayed.

Moments later, her arms were tightly cinched behind

her back in a leather binder with straps that dug deeply under

her throbbing breasts.

"I'm not quite sure why they call this a chastity belt."

Was he actually making a joke?

When she saw the two long dildos protruding from the

crotch strap, she knew he wasn't.

After he snapped the last padlock into place around her

waist, he bound her ankles and thighs with wide leather belts

that sported three and four buckles, respectively.

She almost fell over when he took the clamps off, but

before she could recover, he reattached them in the traditional

position across the tips of her nipples.

Fishing-lure weights soon dangled beneath them.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself away,

but she felt something prickly on her calves.

When she realized what was happening, a cold finger

slithered down her spine from her brain to her groin.

He was wrapping her in barbed wire.

When he was finished, hundreds of metal points pressed

menacingly against her bare skin.

He rearranged his chair so it was facing the TV.

She tried to escape the worst of it by shifting her weight

ever so slightly, but she soon concluded that motion was

utterly out of the question.

"Today's doubleheader gets underway in just a few

moments, so stay tuned to the NFL on Fox."

He placed the control boxes for the dildos next to the

remote on the arm of the chair.

The collar kept her from watching his hands, but she

soon knew anyway.

As the plastic vibrated relentlessly inside her, the only

thing moving in the room was the curl of smoke from his

cigarette, the action on the screen, and a trickle of sweat

running down her side.

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