June 2023 – Audio Version

My journey to the bedroom, his hand in mine, was abruptly interrupted when he forced me over my dining room table, my forehead pressing against the hardwood. My Inner Goddess was ready, eager, panting with need as his fingertips traced my naked arms down to my long legs. I quivered at his touch, wondering with devilish delight just how our evening would proceed. The Werewolf’s fingers found purchase in my hair, brutally yanking my head back and causing me to gasp as his mouth found my throat sinking his teeth into the white flesh of my extended throat. 

With a rough twist, I was facing him as one hand unsnapped the hooks of my overalls while his mouth attacked my lips. I pressed my body into him, feeling the raw animalistic power broiling within. Then, releasing me, the Werewolf knelt before me as I wiggled out of my shorts. My Inner Goddess gasped as he paused just to stare at me, now clad in only a tiny black bikini bottom and my baby pink blouse. His hands were ever so gentle as they brushed my skin from my ankles, behind my knees, around my hips, fingertips moving under my blouse until he reached the bralette concealed beneath the pale fabric. 

That is when the werewolf lust returned. His hand wrenched the thin material of my lingerie, twisting it as he savagely bit my waist. The nails of his remaining hand madly gripped the meat of my buttocks. His hands grabbed, pinched, and dug into all points of my body while his mouth nipped. I alternated between squeaks and moans at the treatment as it straddled the limit of my tolerance. One hand raked my inner thigh, and the other wrenched at my bralette until I thought it would tear apart at the seams. Secretly, my Inner Goddess hoped he would rip the remaining fabric from our body in blind passion. Only the gentleman within caused the Werewolf to temper and loosen his hold…ever so slightly. In exchange, my sapphire curls were snatched back as my eyes began to water.  

“I’m a little afraid of marking you. Do you mind a little bite here and there?” His deep voice rumbled, vibrating against my core. 

Heavens, no, I did not mind! Had I been able to speak coherent words, I would have replied enthusiastically, but all that came out was a half croak, half moan as I shook my head from side to side.

“Wow, that was eloquent.” Mocked my Inner Goddess imperiously. 

“Oh, hush!” I retorted with embarrassment. Why did my shyness or heat of the moment turn my brain to mush? Why could I not have a bit of decorum and not stumble like a schoolgirl on the playground? 

“It’s not like you did any better!” I returned. My Inner Goddess merely sniffed in annoyance and then winced as she directed our attention to the teeth currently being buried in our left inner thigh. 

Spellbound, I clung to the edge of the table for support, my nails digging in as my body trembled in delightful agony and yearning. To an outsider, his advances might have looked inhuman and heartless as his hands and mouth inflicted pain across my body. But that’s what I loved about it, the carnal attack of a werewolf. 

Having conquered and marked the length of my body, I was flipped to bend over the table once more. My breasts and cheekbone pressed to the wood. A light hand smacked my exposed cheeks, now devoid of even the slip of silk. I heard the belt slide from the waist of his fitted jeans and wiggled my toes in anticipation and a little bit of alarm. The Dom is aware of my limits but the Werewolf? This was new territory for us. My Inner Goddess assured me that while a first together, the Werewolf was a professional, and he held the respect and esteem of The Queen herself.

Gentle leather thwaps pattered here and there over my prone form, and one or two landed across the back of my trembling thighs. A soothing caress followed a resounding smack from his hand. So far, nothing had stung or caused me to rise onto my tiptoes to process the pain. His body leaned over mine as he brushed a curl from my ear.

“We haven’t negotiated this,” his deep base rumbled. “So, I’m not going to go any further with it.” He paused, possibly rethinking his decision or for dramatic effect. “Not tonight.”

My Inner Goddess was flummoxed! We were in the hands of a master. We felt safe. What could go wrong? Yet, something niggled in the back of my mind. Ghosts of abuse whispered, reminding me of times my body radiated fear and torture in a similar position. The Gentleman knew nothing about this, and it was crucial the Werewolf was aware of it before we proceeded with anything too drastic. The last thing I wanted to do was have a panic attack; without him knowing why or how to assist me through the ancient trauma. Briefly understanding the capability of the Werewolf, he was probably correct. There needed to be a bit of background and negotiation. I nodded in resigned agreement.

The sting of his bites on my peaches hastily overshadowed my mental review. This time, I did rise onto my tiptoes. This response resulted in me being overturned once more and then hoisted onto the table. My breath caught, my fingers curling around the hard edges of the table as my eyes rolled back. 

“Dessert!” Panted my Inner Goddess. “We’re dessert!” And indeed we were as the table end banged into the opposite wall with soft thuds as he devoured my goddess with utter werewolf savagery. I was delirious as his fingers joined the fray to slip into my dripping goddess. The table creaked beneath my weight and the magnitude of my orgasms. I wondered if it would hold me. Had I built it sturdy enough? 

“I wish we would break the table.” Imagined my devilish and insatiable Inner Goddess, ignoring my look of horror and remembrance of the hours and days it had taken to construct the dining table. “FOCUS!” She ordered as yet another orgasm entered the arena of my mind. 

Over and over, the Werewolf ravaged my goddess until I lost count of my orgasms, unable to focus on anything but surviving each orgasmic wave. His tongue and fingers whipped me into a frenzy. I struggled on the table, feeling weightless, utterly at the mercy of the Werewolf. His hands traded soft caresses and fiendish clawing as my porcelain skin heated and blushed under his attacks. When at last, the Werewolf lifted his great head from between my legs, nothing remained of me, but a sugary puddle akin to an ice cream cake left too long in the glory of the sun.

I blinked at him, rather stupified, as I tried to gather the atoms of my being into one place. He bit his lip as my vision began to clear. His mighty form loomed over me.

“I should tell you,” he growled. “I should very much like to see you tied up.” He cocked his head. “I have rope in the car if you are interested. 

You should have seen my Inner Goddess perk and begin to dance at those cherished and long hoped-for words. We had been dreaming of him one-day offering for the past year and a half.

“Yes! Absolutely!!” I hoped the energy of my words did not come off too desperate as he slipped back into his shirt. But wait, when had he removed his shirt? I did not even see his naked chest, the hair curling between his muscular pecs, or his muscles undulating just under the skin. My Inner Goddess pouted at the loss. 

“I think,” the great Werewolf paused at the door as he slipped into his shoes. “You should be naked when I get back.”

We were going to make this challenging for him. My Inner Goddess smirked as she replied. “Maybe I will, then maybe I don’t feel like obeying.” I loved how his eyebrow cocked in slight surprise.

“I think,” The Werewolf stepped closer. I tried to put on a brave, impish face, impervious and unaffected by his musk and towering height, though I was nearly dying inside. 

“It would be very wise of you to obey.” His curled finger stroked my deltoid. 

My Inner Goddess shrugged a non-committal response as I inwardly sputtered. My Inner Goddess wanted to draw the teasing out, but I was not having it. As soon as the door closed, my blouse and bralette hit the floor, though with some chagrin as it was my new bondage bra, and I had been rather eager for him to notice it. I hid both behind my chair, there was no time to hang them properly.

“Another time. Another time.” Whispered my Inner Goddess as I positioned myself on the gliding chair facing the door. I listened as heavy footfalls hit each stair. Oh, my giddy aunt, I finally had the opportunity to be entwined and restrained by a master. I tried to control my near-distracted rocking as I attempted to assume an intrigued but benign atmosphere.  

“I see you are a good girl, after all.” The Werewolf noted as he closed and locked the door. I was mute as I stared at his large backpack, nearly bursting with odd shapes.

Looking about the small space, he reached for the coffee table, maneuvering it to the other side of the room. Setting the bag on the couch, he motioned me closer as he began to rummage through it. Grabbing me from behind, his weight pressed against me as I struggled to remain upright. Teeth bit into my shoulder. I bent my neck to the side, an offering of full obedience and submission to the Werewolf. Accepting the oblation, the Werewolf bit. Hard.

“On your knees.” He ordered, lowering me down. The Werewolf’s fingers were yanking into my hair once more as I knelt on the creamy wool rug beneath us. 

“Distract yourself while I set up.” Then, the Werewolf passed something to me. 

In the pale light, I could make out a long handle and tiny neck ending in a giant ball-like head—a Hitachi Wand! My heart did a little skip as I spread my knees and adjusted the head against my pearl. I struggled not to cum instantly. I wanted to drag this out. I wanted to see the tricks and tools concealed in the Werewolf’s bag. Unsatisfied with my lack of response, the Werewolf reached over and increased the speed of the wand. My body had no alternative but to explode as I leaned into the magnificence, seizing the couch cushion for support. The Werewolf rumbled his approval.

Curled over my body, hands pressed into the tops of my thighs; I panted at the forcefulness of the tool. Until I lifted off, allowing my orgasm to wane, The Werewolf took back the wand. Then, initiating touch, he caressed me. The Gentleman was back, tenderly hooking a curl behind my ear as light kisses were breathed across my skin. I hummed in pleasure, smelling his smoked caramel and bourbon as he curved around to kiss me. 

My arms were folded behind my back, and soon completely immobile. Course jute began to snake across the top of my breasts and under my arms. With calculated grace, the Gentleman moved the fiber about my body in a sensual dance. A sudden jerk here made me gasp in surprise and reminded me who was in charge—more movement, slow and erotic. Threads heightened my senses as wispy ends tickled here and there. Under my breasts snaked the thin rope, slight heat rising from the speed and tightness with which it was drawn—knots formed between my breasts. His hot breath teased my skin, I tried to kiss him, but he was intent in his focus and was having none of that. Two parallel lines of jute was placed against my right breast. The coarse rope was pulled behind my back with careful focus and precision, catching and pinching my erect nipple between the rough texture. The sensation was like nothing I had ever experienced, fierce heat against hypersensitive flesh. I moaned as I leaned my head back against his chest. 

A whirring noise rose, and I grinned. The Werewolf placed the Wand on the rug between my legs, encouraging me down onto it with slight pressure on my shoulders. Ignoring my shaking and convulsing body, the Werewolf continued to bind my petite form, winding and knotting with expert attention. 

He was slow and methodical as he worked. More entwining jute. Another orgasm from the wand. In between orgasms, my mind fought to ask technical questions. What was this knot called? Did he have a plan, or was he winging it? Was he enjoying the process, or was it out of a sense of some friendly duty?

“C.U.M.M.I.N.G.!!!” Screamed my Inner Goddess. The wand had been adjusted into perfect position, and my body was hostage to the forced orgasms. Questions and reason fled at the onslaught.  

Now fairly trussed up and my top half immobile, the Werewolf positioned himself in front of me. The patio light glinted off steel metal. In the dim light of the room, the knife ran cold and unfeeling against my skin as I held myself perfectly still. A nearly impossible task as the Wand still warbled just under my goddess. Shutting my eyes, I concentrated on his movements, the edge of the knife perilously teasing my damp skin as it navigated my bound form. 

My heart wildly thumped as I strove to control my mounting fear, the knife at my throat before trailing to my naked breast. What if I had been wrong about the Werewolf? Thump went my heart. Gleam went the knife. No. I refused to go down the slippery slope of panic. The Werewolf had a glowing review and a resounding reputation. When I looked deeper, I honestly felt no fear as I continued to helplessly kneel before the considerable Werewolf. I forced myself to relax into the experience. I waited for the prick, a small slice, but the thrilling danger never came. I am not sure if my Inner Goddess was relieved or disappointed. Had we been asked ahead of time, our answer might have been very different. Yet, at the moment, the danger was just a sliver away, and I wanted nothing more. 

“Another time.” To my chagrin came his quiet murmur as he set the knife to the side. “We’ll ease into it.” My Inner Goddess perked in hope. 

He rose and left me leaning against the couch. Faint music whispered as he moved about the tiny kitchen. I sighed, collecting myself, loving the restriction and jute pulling at my unaccustomed skin. He returned moments later with a glass of water in his paw. 

“Now comes the tricky part.” He said, kneeling next to me. The Werewolf was much too modest as he deftly brought the indigo glass to my lips, tipping it just enough for me to sip deeply before setting it to the side. Not a dribble spilled. I had not realized how parched my lips were, and I felt incredibly revived as the icy water coursed down my dry throat. 

He moved behind me, then came the knots around my waist. Still, in a submissive kneeling position, he bent me back across his thigh, my head almost touching the floor as he twisted the rope around my abdomen. It was a wickedly delightful position-knees spread, arms strapped to my back, and yet bent over his thigh at a 30-degree angle. It was such an odd sensation to be without the use of my hands and I heavily relied on his body and my abs to support myself. Insistent hands hauled me up, but not before he nuzzled my neck, brushing my soft curls away with his long nose. He repeated the knots on my left, roughly bending me back over his left thigh, then carefully lifting me to kneel as the softest kisses traced my face, hands making me feel idolized and treasured. Manhandled and tenderly adored. My body was not 100 percent sure how to respond. Especially when he traced the outline of my face, down the tip of my nose, pausing to place compassionate kisses on my forehead before pulling the rope through a coil, allowing it to burn slightly in its speed. 

The Werewolf wrapped his hulk about me, crushing me as he supported me, my back against his broad chest. Then, moving the wand away from my heaving goddess, he wove more rope about my hips before tenderly laying me on my stomach. My body relaxed into the floor. My muscles ached from the concentration and depth of my orgasms, and I was grateful for a chance to rest.

My left heel was bent to rest on my buttock as the Werewolf wound and knotted my leg against itself. He paused, placing the Wand at the apex of my legs so the weight of my hips rested on the bulbous head. My hips bucked up, pressing my cheekbone into the woven wool rug, my arms still bound behind me. Just as I was on the precipice, the Wand was casually removed. A denied orgasm! What?!

“I was just about to cum!” I wailed indignantly. 

“I know.” He was infuriatingly nonchalant. “That’s why I removed it.”

I wriggled in irritation but sighed. If I fought back too much, he might not let me cum for the rest of the night. A horrible thought of my goddess dripping with need, immobile on the rug at his feet while he sipped bourbon on the couch, ignoring me, chilled my Inner Goddess. We stilled our squirming. 

At my faked calmness, the Werewolf placed the buzzing Wand at my goddess once more. I found if I elevated my hips, even just a little, I could control the intensity of the Wand. My thigh was now wholly wrapped, and rope swaddled my foot before being harshly drawn between my big toe and secured in the bindings of my thigh. My body jerked at the unexpected attack on my erogenous zone. I was in heaven. I was sure of it. 

“What is your deal with you and your toes?” I asked my Inner Goddess in bewilderment. After all, they were just feet and toes.

“Don’t. Know. Don’t. Care. Cumming!” She barely responded as the fiendish Werewolf intensified the Wand. 

Over and over, I came as my head pressed against the couch and rug. He was slow and casual in his movements. At times he paused to lean back and observe my body as I writhed, having no choice but to give into the toy working between my legs.

Correctly assessing my need for a break, he withdrew the pulsing Wand and rolled me onto my back. Oddly, not as uncomfortable as I expected, considering my arms were still restrained behind my back. Kisses, fingertips in my hair while his deep voice encouraged me to rest, to breathe. I closed my eyes, feeling everything and nothing at all. 

The Werewolf rose from his reclined position beside me and reached into his backpack again, withdrawing another cord of jute. I cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. He knelt at my feet as I raised my head to watch. One, two, and three loops artistically wrapped around my right thigh with intersecting knots. I assessed my body. I looked…beautiful and feminine. It was everything I had hoped it would be. My Inner Goddess was in heaven at the constriction, but we were both in for a surprise when the Werewolf reached for the wand once more and…began to bind it to my inner thigh with the momentarily still ball resting directly over my pearl. 

Though still bound, I was able to adjust my left leg between his spread thighs. Beginning with his knee, I traced my toes up his inner thigh, adding just a bit of pressure to ensure he knew what I was doing—an impish grin lit my face. My Inner Goddess was feeling extra naughty, though there was not much she could do about it. My Inner Goddess glowered. How was the Werewolf still completely dressed while I was utterly exposed and helpless??

“Someone is being very disobedient.” Came the growl as my toes lingered to toy at his groin. 

In response, I lowered my toes to the creamy wool of the rug but soon inched my toes north once more. I bit my lip. I wanted him to do his worst. This time, the Werewolf responded by not only turning on the wand but clicking it to full strength. Full of the slightest remorse and orgasm, my toes beat a hasty retreat as I curled my body to the side. Not the greatest of moves, as it meant the ball of the wand was now even more entrenched between my thighs as it pressed against my swollen goddess and pearl. I can only imagine the smug look of satisfaction on the Werewolf’s face. 

My only respite came if I spread my legs as wide as possible, a difficult feat considering the amount of rope holding me in place. The Werewolf lounged on his side next to me, tracing my heaving body, closing my legs, and adjusting the Wand back over my pearl if I lingered too long between orgasms. My body was in an ocean of nearly unending orgasms, awash in a myriad of emotions as the Wand relentlessly carried out its assigned mission. 

In the middle of a particularly powerful orgasm, the Werewolf’s dominant paw grabbed my jaw and pressed a kiss onto my squished lips. This jolted me out of my cresting wave at the sudden restriction of my voice, and delighted at the new form of bondage. I came humming/moaning against his mouth. He released my face as I widened my legs for a brief reprieve. With each calf bound to the adjoining thigh, I could not fully straighten either leg, not that I minded. On the contrary, I adored feeling the rough jute digging into my thigh as I strained in the heat of my orgasms. 

I could tell the wheels were turning in the Werewolf’s mind, but before I could inquire, his hand shifted the Wand once more, and my mouth opened as energy began to wash over me. At this moment, the sadistic Werewolf clapped his hand over not my face but my nose! Before I could open my mouth to adjust, his other paw compressed my jaw as his mouth formed to fit my lips, ultimately sealing off any oxygen. My lungs slowly ached and then burned as my body rocked in orgasmic bliss. Yet, my soul relaxed, and weight dropped from my shoulders. Not subspace, but something certainly akin. I felt no fear. There was nothing I needed to do, and for the briefest of moments, I was in control of, well, absolutely nothing. My soul melted at the freedom. Then, releasing me with a mighty thrust, the Werewolf pulled back, leaving me to gasp as oxygen once more flooded my lungs. 

“Again!!! Again!!!!” Begged my Inner Goddess, and he did! 

The ardent smoked caramel and bourbon of his kisses, my skin heated and burning from his earlier lupine bites, my body encased in five cords of jute, a wand strapped to my inner thigh, knife, and breath play. My mind reeled. How many tricks did this Werewolf god possess? We wanted to know them all. 

The Werewolf reclined next to my body, head propped in his hand as he watched and occasionally pinched, twisted, or sucked at my exposed breasts. My body bucked as the unrelenting Wand pulsed against my pearl, and my hips arched off the creamy rug in concentration. Gods, did my body convulse. 

There is a very rare but elusive orgasm my body is capable of producing. I do not know the ingredients it takes or the right moves required, and I have only succeeded in capturing the phenomenon a handful of times. I even struggle to find the words to describe the magnitude and unusualness, considering most of my orgasms are mind-altering affairs. Yet, I could feel the raw potency of the beast pulsing, aching for release, yet hovering just out of my reach. My Inner Goddess focused as callused hands whispered over my sensitive inner thigh. The phenomenon was here, but I needed one more thing to entice its communion with my soul. 

“PULL. MY. HAIR.” I forced the words between clenched teeth as my muscles strained against the jute, hampering my movements. The Werewolf did not hesitate as his claws tore into my hair, wrenching my neck back. At last, satisfied with the painful offering, the phenomenon entered and consumed my body as it released its full volcanic power on me. My goddess erupted, and my body strained at the rope as the alternating contraction and explosion of my orgasm roared through my soul with unbridled dominance. 

At last, having exhausted every orgasmic cell in my being, I needed respite. My head throbbed as blood raged through every vein. My knees drooped like butterfly wings, yet the barbaric vibration continued. My arms were still bound; I had no way to “tap out.”

“Done, DONE, DOOONNNEEE.” I screeched, struggling to vocalize every letter. The Werewolf lept into action as he quieted the toy and loosened the binding rope supporting it but did not remove it from my inner thigh. Instead, he lay beside me on the rug as his fingertips traced my cheek and brushed away my damp curls. At that moment, his touch felt tender and intimate. 

And then…my chest heaved for an entirely different reason. The last orgasm had nearly done me in, but his caress had broken something deep within. The weeks of suppressed stress and weight of my world had long been buried under layers and layers of ice, but now, the ice cracked. I could not breathe, not a single stitch. I could no longer hold back the emotions and unshared burden any longer…and I began to cry. 

Not adorable little tears delicately rolling down the corners of my eyes, waiting for some Victorian lace handkerchief to dab them away. No, this was the ugliest of cries. I turned to my Inner Goddess for support but found her also in a fetal position, the sheer black lace of her robe spread out around her like a dark pool of despair as she, too, wept her eyes out. 

With the utmost tenderness, he pulled me close, cradling my head against his chest as his legs wrapped over me. His weight was everything I needed. Yet, I tried to hold back. Here I was, some stupid girl blubbering after an orgasm. I knew I had ruined the moment. I pulled at my heartstrings, attempting to salvage the evening. 

“Let it out.” The Gentleman crooned into my curls, his alpha werewolf arms tightening protectively around my body. I shook my head, attempting to pull back and recover whatever shred of dignity was left to me. 

“Just let it out.” His words were a sensitive command as his legs increased their weight over me. My obedient heart regained control of its strings as I sobbed for nearly a heartbroken eternity. As the last shuddering sob left my lungs, the Gentleman placed little kisses all over my forehead before helping me into a seated position against the couch as he began to untwist the ties and knots holding me. My newly released hands accepted the offering of water as the ropes drooped around my breasts and waist. I began to wipe the tears from my cheeks as embarrassment and the gravity of the situation unfolded in my mind. 

“Don’t wipe those away.” The Gentleman chided. “Those are my tears.”

My cheeks flushed, still disconcerted and overwhelmed. But I followed his instruction to slip into something comfortable and come back. After winding the rope and returning it to his backpack, the Gentleman motioned for me to join him on the couch as he cuddled me into an embrace, his long legs stretched the length of the sofa. I remained curled in his arms, head resting on his shoulder as he talked me through the experience. 

No, he repeatedly assured me I had ruined nothing, my open vulnerability was a gift, and he was honored that I had felt safe to have that type of release. The Gentleman noted that even as a strong and independent woman, I not only had a great deal going on, but I had been through much the past few years. I was at a loss for words at his understanding and compassion. Though still not entirely convinced, I refrained from arguing further and nestled my head deeper into his fully clothed chest.  

Just like that, Time waltzed back into the room to remind us of the late hour and his long drive home. I hated how tired and ready to sleep I felt. The high energy of the evening had come at a cost. 

“You know.” His voice took on a lupine growl. “I kinda like taking this slow, just having fun with you and seeing where it will go.” 

My Inner Goddess shook her head in downright dissent. This was supposed to be a night of triumph and glory. Not sobbing into the Werewolf’s mighty chest. She wanted to feel his ravaging might deep within us. Her disappointment was moderated by the rope play and his genuine care for our heart. 

With a sigh, we untangled, and I saw him out the door. Though waterproof, I could feel my mascara clumping at the corners of my eyes. I tried not to chastise myself as I crossed to my unruffled bed and gathered the fluffy covers about my body. I mused on the unexpected events of the evening. What had happened to cause me to lose so much control of myself? I was fine, totally fine, and dinner had been a rousing account of our recent sexual explorations, foreplay of a most salacious nature. I had ideas why but my weary mind wanted to think on it no more. 

As my eyelids sagged and my consciousness ebbed away, I gave sincere thanks to the universe for such a Gentleman. A sobbing woman could have repulsed him. He could have pulled away or been awkward about it. Yet, he had not only handled my tears with courtly grace, but he had also been a safe place and encouraged full release as he crushed my ribs. My eyes fluttered and closed one last time. What a gift and privilege it was to know such a lupine gentleman. 

Until next time, XO Elsie.