"Of Knives and Roses"

© 2001 by sandie smith

Scurrying busily around the apartment getting it straightened and neat for His visit, pausing periodically dreaming of what direction He will take me tonight. The pauses become closer and longer, as the time of His arrival approaches, till i'm unable to concentrate on anything but O/our night forthcoming.

The box of one-dozen long-stemmed white roses lays open and empty, it's contents now arranged in a tall ceramic vase. The card on the table says; "To My dear one, every rose has it's thorn!" my brow creases slightly reading the curious note, sensing a hidden meaning, for these roses had been stripped of their thorns.

Another box lay open. In it was an outfit bought by Him "special for tonight" that card read. A simple outfit: pretty flowered button-down top, tight-fitting Daisy-Duke's shorts, very pretty purple panties and bra. The material, somewhat flimsy, airy and light, packed with a sachet to make them smell...feminine.

And finally, one oblong box. Inside, one pair of black, six-inch spiked heels. No card, there was no need for one. They spoke of themselves in volumes..."WEAR US" they said.

At the very moment i put them on, the doorbell rings. my heart skips a beat, i swallow nervously yet anxiously. Walking precariously in the high heels, i make my way to the door, open it, and i see Him standing there, with a single red rose in His hand.

He smiles and looks me over, saying nothing for what seemed an eternity. Stepping in, closing the door behind Him, He places a strong, yet gentle hand at my back, leading me to the couch.

But He doesn't want me to sit with Him yet. He wishes for me to stand before Him, turning slowly, allowing Him to see His handiwork. Only then does He finally speak. "You look lovely, My dear. Come closer now." Obediently i approach, my eyes downcast, heart racing. i see His hands reach for my hips, then slide ever so slowly down my bare legs, over my throbbing burning calves now standing out like fists from the strain of wearing the high heels.

He leans forward and draws in a long, slow breath through His flared nostrils, moaning softly at the scent He created for this evening. Placing the single red rose on the table just beside the bouquet of white ones, He tells me to stay put as He exits. He says He has a bag still in His car He needs to bring in.

And so, i wait. i watch Him exit, close the door only partially, and wait. He returns with a large suitcase, nearly busting at the seams, so full of... what?

He wastes no time. Opening the bag He brings out several lengths of rope, different lengths, but all very soft marina type nylon ropes. Looking up to my ceiling with wooden beams, He expertly tosses one very long rope over and through, it's end coming back down, and with a slipknot, secures it as a simple restraint, it's purpose very obvious.

Next He removes other items He intends to use: riding crop, suede leather flogger (the one He knows is my favorite), fur-lined leather wrist cuffs. He has other cuffs, but seeing these, tells me He intends to have me "at the end of my rope", as He loves to put it, for a long time.

He signals me over. Wasting no time, mincing no words, He takes my two dainty wrists into His one strong hand, with great skill and agility fits the cuffs on them, buckling them just right. Then meets them with the rope hanging from the ceiling over my head and fastens me, drawing and pulling and tugging the other end of the rope, stretching my body taunt. Only when He is completely satisfied that i am sufficiently held, He ties His end to a bolt on the floor, the one He installed the last time He came.

That night, He didn't restrain me, didn't use His special toys. Only installed some strategically placed fastenings around my apartment, this bolt on the floor being one of them. Then He left me for one week to eye them and wonder at their placements. It seemed now, that i would wonder no longer. He seemed intent on showing me all He had in mind!

Standing back, eyeing me intensely, He bends to pick up one coil of rope and begins wrapping me, starting from my ankles, working up to my knees cinching them tightly together. Then up my thighs, pushing through, pulling the rope up hard into my shorts-covered crotch. Even though i had the shorts on, the brutality of His tugging still burned, making me very grateful for their shield.

The rope was now pulled up behind and around my waist. Several turns of rope now embraced my torso, digging in and burning through the flimsy material of the silky blouse. Working more and more of the seemingly never-ending rope around and around, now criss-crossing between my heaving breasts, straining under the slightly too small bra He bought for me to wear, and finally finishing the wrapping with a tugging knot at my back squarely between my shoulder blades.

He steps back and surveys His handiwork, seeming to be very pleased. i, on the other hand, am very puzzled. He never tied me while fully clothed! Why now? That question was now on the edge of being answered, and soon i'd wish i hadn't wondered, hadn't even thought of it, and certainly hadn't seen that answer which was now in full view. A switchblade, held scant inches from my face, His thumb on the switch, pressing it, the blade springing open with an awful ~shwish!~ sound, it's metal catching the lights in the room! my eyes wide, totally fixed, unaware i was holding my breath. Slowly slowly, menacingly slow, He traces the knife's razor sharp edge down between my bound breasts, plucking off one button after another, sneering as He hears my soft whimpers of distress! With the buttons now off, but the ropes still holding the blouse on my quivering body, He slides the knife sideways, it's cold blade laying flat on my sweating skin, getting caught on a bit of the flimsy material. Stopping and holding the knife with it's bit of material, He holds it there for me to stare at it, then jerks the knife's sharp edge, ripping through, and i watch as some shards of material flutter to the floor at my feet.

He stands behind me now, the knife held away and at His side, He wraps a strong arm around me and pulls me into Him, whispering in my ear: "I've wanted to do this for a very, very long time." Then kisses the back of my neck, trailing His tongue, making goose flesh rise there. And now at my other ear, He whispers: "Do not fear Me, My sweet, I promise not to harm you. Lean back for now, give yourself to Me." Cupping my tiny face in His large, strong hand, bending down to me, He kisses me incredibly tenderly, making me melt in His masculine hold. "Do you trust Me, little one? Will you give yourself to Me utterly?"

Amazingly i hear myself utter softly and weakly: "yes, Sir... i trust You... " my lips trembling as i speak those words, my eyes closed, falling back into His arms, longing to be His.

my eyes still closed, still in a lusty fog, not aware He has stepped back, now all of a sudden i feel something very sharp digging at me, under the ropes at my breasts... sharp and pointy, not like a knife. Not daring to open my eyes, trying to figure out what it could be. But then i smell something sweet... something soft, something... it was a rose! i open my eyes, look down and see that one red rose with the thorns. Now i know the hidden meaning on the card with the white roses! The thorns scratch and poke at my tender skin as He works the stem well into the criss-cross of rope, a thin trickle of blood rolls down and then stops!

Picking back up with the removal of my beautiful new outfit, one i will never be able to wear again, He now takes out the blindfold and places it on me, kissing me once more, and asking once more for my trust in Him. I give it to Him.

In total darkness, in total silence, i feel His hot breath on me, telling me His is right there. His blade now hot on my flesh tearing and ripping at the material, soft filaments floating down, some fluttering against my legs, sending fresh new chills up my spine. Hearing the tearing rips, feeling the tugs, my breath quickens and i know i am becoming aroused!

But how???? Such terror! Yet mixed with tenderness, sweetness! And His strength and utter control! And i know i am wet! i can smell it! i know He can, too!

The blade is at my thighs, just inside the shorts, yanking and tugging... rrrrrrrrrripppppp! i hear the material give way! and again! and again! Until there is nothing left and i now feel His hand on my bare bottom, crying a little now, not really knowing why.

WHIRRRRRRR... THWACK!!!

The flogger hurls through the air, landing on the patches of me that are now laid naked for His whips!!! Again and again the suede leather tails strike, sometimes snaking around and biting my sides! Blindfolded, i can't tell how much of me is naked, adding to the thrill of being whipped by this Man i adore! my Master! And i cum and cum and cum! He, of course knew i would! He knows my mind, every corner, every secret lust... He knows!

He whips me soooooo hard and tells me this, knowing how it makes me cum that much harder! Tells me how well i am taking His pain! His whip sails into me over and over and over until i am screaming with lust: "Please, Master! Whip me!!! Yes! i love it! Pleeeeeeese whip me more!!!"

Hearing His whip cutting through the air, and His breath now hard and husky with His passion, He changes whips. Now He has the crop! This is His favorite and uses it with abandon! Tugging at my simple restraint, flinging my head to and fro, howling, not always in pain but indescribable pleasure!!!

my climax having peaked and now winding down, He somehow senses this and drops the whip. Now behind me once again, He embraces me, holding me tight against Himself, His bulge hard against my ass. Leaning to kiss me, fingering my blindfold, He gently removes it, and kisses away the tears from my eyes.

"That was sooooo beautiful, My lovely lady! So wonderful! you took that very, very well! Yes! Very well indeed! I am most pleased!" Skillfully, He removes the seemingly miles of rope from my body, now starting from the knot at my back and working His way down to my feet. i can't help but feel a small sadness at their departure, as they felt like a hug from my Master! The rose with it's thorns falls away too, signifying something profound, the falling away of pain, the bringing back of romance, as i look once again at the thornless white roses standing full in the vase on the table across the room.

Gently, with much care, He takes me down from the restraint, picks me up and carries me to the couch, which He had covered with a blanket of fur while I was still blindfolded. The softness surprises me, it's lovely and i love Him for His thoughtfulness!

Kneeling beside me, He traces His one hand along my body from bottom to top, followed by a satin sheet pulled up by His other hand, tucking me in. Placing one last kiss on my forehead, he rises to exit, leaving His things behind. i faintly hear the door shut... and drift off to sleep...

© 2001 by sandie smith also known as Lady Trinquette