Of Rope, Stockings And You - Part 3 - The Ecstasy Of You: Through my lips I can feel you beginning to let go â€“ your breath quickens, legs become tense your hands reach for the frame of the sawhorse. Another moment â€“ perhaps two â€“ you are so wet â€“ your excitement is building, yearning for release. The steel frame to which you are bound seems to take on your energy as it vibrates with your passion, the cushion is warm with you â€“ I can feel rising within you a force so strong, no ropes, no leather can contain. As it nears the surface, it is suddenly turned away by the fall of my other hand across the back of your thigh â€“ the sting sends you reeling â€“ you gulp in another breath, trying to let go, but as you collapse into your bonds, it escapes you â€“ for the moment. In defiance, you grind your pussy into the cushion â€“ no more gentle gyration. You are running after something for which I am not ready to give you. I reach quickly for the crop. Lost in your pursuit of release, you donâ€™t notice my fumbling in the candlelight for the handle until it is too late. The snap of the first strike fills the room with a crisp sound surpassed only by your deep moans. I follow quickly with a second, then another. You appear to launch free from the sawhorse, only to be pulled back by the tight ropes. Nearly breathless, you scream out: â€œMore, More!â€ â€œPlease!â€ â€“ I oblige your plea for the crop with a forth and then fifth â€“ you are now so disconnected, yet so in tune at the same time â€“ struggling against your bonds, yet in such obvious ecstasy. It is something within you that I still do not understand fully, but cherish so much. Your fire, your passion ignites mine. I step back and disappear within this scene â€“ watching your shadow against the flickering wall â€“ listening to your every moan â€“ I could get so sweetly lost in this, lost in you. Approaching you from behind, I reach forward and pull back firmly on your hair. As if on cue, or just a deep sense of our ritual, you let out a soft sigh and open your mouth wide. The red ballgag fits firmly into your mouth â€“ it rests between your lips as if it were home. As I buckle the leather strap behind your head, your bondage is complete. Still grasping your soft hair, I approach closer and slide slowly into you. I feel that familiar connection between us as I move my hips gently to your rhythm. You are so warm, so moist and as our pace begins to quicken, you let out a muffled moan which seems to encourage me to move still faster, reach deeper within you. I pull back a little more firmly on your hair with one hand, and begin to spank you with the other â€“ your reaction, your movement, your moaning , your ecstasy is my guide as I push myself harder, deeper and faster within you. I release your hair and tightly pull your hips to me. I feel you building again â€“ your moans turn to muffled screams behind the gag â€“ you yell out in vain as I feel us moving together faster, faster and faster still. You tighten suddenly around me, your head arches off the cushion, your hands and legs strain outward against the ropes and from within you flows the release you had sought â€“ your moans turn to gasps of ecstasy as you climax again and again â€“ each time bringing me closer, until at last, I feel my body flush with warmth, then erupt as my knees buckle and I collapse softly on top of you â€“ intertwined in the candlelight we catch a hold of ourselves and while you lay bound in what was, my mind now turns toward what still lies aheadâ€¦.