Two Girls Tied In A Cabin

This is a nice romantic bondage, spanking, and anal sex fantasy:

I stood outside the cabin and watched a trio of Canadian Geese ducking for grubs or whatever it is that Canadian geese duck for. They foraged in the scrub grass right at the edge of the woods, keeping a watchful eye on their watcher. One of them honked and I honked back, feeling not the least bit foolish.

We were secluded here, the girls and I, miles from civilization. Not a paved road this side of Cider Creek, and only the narrow graveled track leading back down the mountain. Even better–and more important–there was not another cabin within five miles.

I went back inside to my girls.

Camilla and Michelle were both naked, face down on the floor. A large swatch of duct tape ran ear to ear, and both had their arms folded behind them, secured elbow to wrist with white nylon cord. Their legs were bound also, crisscrossed at the ankles. Where their breasts pushed against the rug and flattened out, the wrapped nylon cords were visible. A deep, painful red had set in. Laying head toward the stone fireplace on a large hook rug, both were wide-eyed and frightened. Their heads twisted back to watch.

“You two are in a predicament,” I said.

They both squirmed and made throat sounds. I moved in behind them and both twisted to keep me in sight. “I can pretty much do whatever I want,” I said. “Right?”

The girls eyed one other uncertainly.

I knelt behind Camilla and patted her rear end. She jumped, then began to tremble. The first time in my cabin, the first time bound and gagged, Camilla is quite unnerved. They both are. Neither have gone this far in our activities and now both have reservations.

Wondering if this were an altogether smart idea, I caressed Camilla’s buttocks, then slipped my hand between her legs. She jumped again and moaned lightly. She was scared enough to be dry. I lightly pinched her cheek and Camilla jumped again. I stood up.

Choosing one of two heavy leather paddles on the fireplace sill–everything was laid out in plain sight–I touched Camilla’s rear end with the tip. She was not ready for this. Wide-eyed as a startled doe, she watched as I lifted the paddle, then flinched when I gave her a tentative whack on the cheek. She whimpered and rocked back and forth. I spanked her lightly again.

“Frightened, Camilla?”

She nodded energetically. “Mmm-nnnuuuumm-mum-um-um!”

I paddled her again, slightly harder.

“Know what this will do?” I asked, holding the paddle aloft. Half-inch diameter holes placed half an inch apart ran the length of it. She energetically shook her head. “Like Swiss cheese,” I said, pipping her on the butt.

“Mmmmmmum!” she objected.

Reaching back, I brought the paddle down moderately hard, zinging her rear end.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm!” she wailed.

I laughed, kissed her delicate ear, then on the temple, then the side of her neck. She shivered violently. “You are so not ready for this,” I said, brushing back her hair and stroking her left cheek. “Tell you what, Cam. Get that pretty little tail of yours up, keep it in the air, and I’ll keep the hits no harder than what I just did. Well, a little
harder, maybe. Let it back down though…” I shrugged. “You understand.”

For the first time in memory, Camilla’s eyes mirrored humiliation. And fear.

“I could put pillows under you,” I suggested. “And spank you twice as hard.”

Camilla shook her head. Slowly, unsure exactly how to do it trussed up, she forced her hips off the floor. Grunting with exertion–and with embarrassment I’m sure–her face grew increasingly red. Her breathing became labored. She looked at one camera, then another, closed her eyes and began to groan.

My penis was rock hard.

After a big spanking scene, we move on to the superhuman anal sex in bondage:

I looked at her rear end. Where the strop had came down it raised dime-sized polyps all over her cheeks. All were bright red, white-edged and swollen.

Reaching over her to the fireplace, I retrieved the dispenser of Aloe Vera skin cream. Carefully, I squeezed it onto her skin, laying the green liquid down in figure eights loops. I carefully rubbed it in. Her skin was red hot.

“This better?” I asked.

Camilla nodded. Her weeping had calmed, and so had her shaking. I applied more lotion. “I’ll make it up to you,” I promised. Slowly, letting her know my intentions, I delved my finger between her buttocks, located her anus. With gentle pressure I moved my finger inside. Camilla moaned.

“Better?”

Camilla raised her eyes and told me, though not yet forgiven, I was abrogating the harm.

Camilla loves anal sex.

“Raise up,” I suggested. As she had done before, Camilla lifted her rear end into the air.

I gathered pillows from both ends of the couch and placed them beneath her shoulders and chin. I knew Camilla would need them.

I tentatively touched her butt–she flinched and made a startled gasp–then spread her buttocks apart. Like her genitals, Camay’s anus was bare. The thick dark hair, so abundant on her lovely head, was nowhere in evidence here. She had hot waxed it off.

“How you stand that,” I said, blowing softly over her clenched sphincter, “is beyond me.”

Camilla moaned.

Leaning forward, I blew softly across Camilla’s anus and it puckered. She moaned. Mindful of her welted skin, I placed my fingertips within the cleft of Camilla’s buttocks, drew them fully apart and Camilla groaned loudly.

Very slowly, and with gentle purpose, I licked her. Camilla squirmed, tried to get away at first, then moved closer. I licked her fully, then I kissed her. “You like this, don’t you?” I said.

She emitted a groan.

Purple-brown from her deep coloring, her anus flexed outward in a strong reflex, cupping itself, and I licked it again, kissed the crown. I attacked her with my tongue.

“Nunggungg-ung-ung,” Camilla moaned, then: “Nuh-uh-uh!” Shuddered deeply, her pelvis bucked and her anus crowned again and I pushed inside. She moaned deeply and muscles in her abdomen clenched and released, making her roll up and down. Pushing deeper inside, I tasted her musky wetness, curled my tongue into a phallic tube. I fucked her.

“Nuh!” Then: “Oh-uh-UH!”

I pulled out and kissed her and licked her, then reentered her again.

“Neordddd! Unh-nuh! NUNH!”

Her rear end was now circling in a wild ellipse and I could no longer stay inside. I sat back on my calves and unzipped my jeans, removed myself from their clutch.

God, I ached!

Taking myself in hand, I placed the head of my penis against her pulsating hole and I leaned forward and entered.

“Ung-Gog!”

Camilla shuddered. She buried her face in the pillow. A deep moan escaped her throat. When she clenched uncontrollably on my erection, taking its breadth, she moaned even louder.

I don’t have the huge appendage that some woman crave. Only seven and a half inches long, I am not solid muscle nor do I make women suffer and scream. Camilla, however, whether by design or by choice, reacts as though John Holmes were inside. I am empowered, emboldened, desperate to fulfill her need–if only for my own–because Camilla, my dearest possession, has no need for me. I neither advance her ambitions, nor do I, in the overall sense of the word, prevail. Except for our shared immorality (some would call it perversion), and Michelle, we share nothing at all.

But I love her.

And God knows why, she loves me.

Struggling into a squat, I removed my shirt and unbuckled my jeans. I shoved them down. Normally, Camilla is an active partner, hands pulling herself wide, otherwise stroking my cock or stroking herself. Today, no fingers will enter her vagina but my own, nor ignite her clitoris. She has only one purpose this day, and that is to make me work.

Kicking off my shoes, I worked the jeans off, then my underwear, so that both of us are nude. I know she feels pain; even though I strive to avoid her tail, avoiding it is impossible.

Holding her waist, I angled myself down, working in. Camilla bucked, then groaned, then moaned my name. Her anus stretched tightly about my cock: a thin, purple line.

Before starting for real, I bent down and retrieved the tube of KY jelly, our personal lubricant. Camilla moaned with impatience. She always is impatient. But I was half way in and getting locked already, and any more movement would only hurt her.

“It’s coming,” I assured her. “Just wait.”

She groaned. “Ei-ont-awnuh-ait!” (I don’t wanna wait!)

“You’ll get it soon enough.”

She complained more. “Urrry!” Hurry!

Squeezing jelly onto my shaft where it entered her rear end, I moved it in and out. She groaned loudly.

“Told, you. Didn’t I?”

“Urrry!”

Holding her waist, I pulled out to the very tip, then pushed myself in. I went all the way down. Camilla grunted, then wagged her tail. I pushed really hard. Camilla wagged her buttocks again.

“Nyeshhh! Nyeshhh!” (Yes! Yes!)

I seated myself hard, drawing a gasp (not from her butt cheeks, but from the depth) then worked for every millimeter of fit. Going in and out, tip to end, I tried unsuccessfully to restrain. I always try, and I always fail. Always Camilla forgives me.

Soon her anus was a hot collar of pain, heated by friction, and the more she got worked, the more Camilla wanted. I worked her hard. I worked her very hard. Then I felt a tingle of vibration, a tightening of groin, and Cammy was riding an orgasmic wave. She rocked up and down, rolling her pelvis, twisting back and forth against my cock. Her wail became continuous. I released her waist and found her vagina, put three fingers in from each hand. Then settled for one. The only one that mattered. Cammy began to come.

“NUH!” she shouted. Then “NU-UH!” Then she gave one huge buck and we both exploded.

I stopped all movement and so did she.

“Nuh-uhhhhh-uhhhhh-uhhhhhh!” she wailed.

The first plume of semen seared her rectum and Camilla wailed again. I remained an iron spike, a tortured statue, knowing she would never forgive me if I moved. My third ejaculation came, and then my fourth, and the hot sperm built around my cock and melted into her rectum, igniting her orgasm to a stupendous high. And still we did not move.

“Neordddd! (George!) Unh-unh! Nunh! Neordddd!”

Then it was time and I fucked her as hard as I could, up and down, slamming her with each burst. A second orgasm came, and then a third, and then a fourth, and when finally the orgasms gave out, and the liquid subsided, I had come in Cammy two dozen times. More. Many more. And I couldn’t stand up. I took her down with me.

I had, literally, filled her rectum with sperm.

From Camilla’s Present by Mathew Steele.

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