Thoughts on an ever-evolving life

The BBQ – Chapter 8


The party continued as the sun began to set in all its amber glory.  Professor found Amelia and sweetly asked her to help him gather some wood from the shed to start the bonfire for their guests.  The wood shed was actually visible from the deck and the yard, but the entrance to it was hidden around the corner on the far side of the house.  Amelia lovingly followed, so they could get the traditional bonfire underway.  They rounded the corner of the house and approached the wood room door. Professor stopped and gallantly pushed the door open and stepped aside, allowing Amelia to enter first, as any good gentleman would.

Amelia inhaled sharply as she saw what hung in front of her.  From the rafters, where an eye bolt had been securely attached, hung a set of leather cuffs, tied with a long rope lashed to an anchor on the wall.  With anxiety flashing in her wide eyes, she slowly turned to face Professor, just as he closed the door behind him.

“Shhh. People will hear you.  You must be ever so quiet, my pet.” He whispered as he stepped forward, causing her to take a trembling step back, moving her even closer to the awaiting bindings.  In this wood room, there was an opening along the top of the wall that measured approximately ten inches, so if she made any noise, anyone on the deck was sure to hear.  “Hands up!” commanded Professor.

“But…” whimpered Amelia.  SWACK!  His hand came down across her cheek with great speed and precision.

“I didn’t ASK you, I TOLD you.  Hands up, Slut!” The growl and tenor of his voice was ferocious.  Uneasy about what would happen next, but knowing her duties, and knowing she was completely safe, she reluctantly complied with his demand.  With her hands above her head, Professor grasped the bottom of her shirt, drew it over her head and placed it neatly on a nearby pile of wood.  He then shackled both hands in the soft leather cuffs that hung from the ceiling.  Using the attached rope, he slowly raised her hands as high above her head as her tiptoes would permit.  Once the rope was tightly secured around the cleat, one gentle tug brought her skirt puddling at her ankles.  “Lift your foot, my pet,” he softly whispered.

“Yes, Sir,” escaped delicately with the action.

“Now the other, please.” And another “Yes, Sir,” followed.  Again he carefully arranged the skirt on top of the neatly placed shirt.  He circled her as his eyes ran the full length of her body.  “I understand you got a new present.  I don’t remember giving you permission to receive a present from another man.  Let me see this new gift.  Open your legs.”  With this command, she tried to part her legs but at her current extension, she was unable to open more than a few inches.  SWACK! His hand came down hard and fast across her left nipple.  “Now, Bitch!”

With that command, and through a muffled whimper, she quickly thought of another solution.  She raised her left knee and rested her foot on a nearby pile of wood and trusted that it would allow adequate access for him to retrieve the gift.  He plunged his fingers into her dripping wet pussy and skillfully withdrew the little vibrating egg.  He rolled it around in his hand for a few seconds, admiring its shape, size and wetness.  He silently set it down on top of her pile of clothing, gathered an armload of wood, and smiled a wry smile at her as he headed to the wood room exit.  Still smiling, he closed the door with his free hand, leaving Amelia strung to the rafters, naked, trembling slightly, and her mind racing with speculation over what might possibly be coming next.

She wouldn’t have long to wait.  When Professor arrived at the fire pit, where most of the party had already gathered, he politely asked Richard if he would go get one more armload of wood while he ignited the fire.  “Of course”, Rich happily replied, smiled broadly and headed towards the wood room door.


To be continued…

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4 thoughts on “The BBQ – Chapter 8

  1. Out of the frying pan and into the fire 😈

    Liked by 1 person

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