It’s A Good Life If You Don’t Weaken

And let's get friendship right 

get life day-to-day
in the forget-yer-skates dream
full of countervailing woes
in diverse-as-ever scenes
proceeding on a need-to-know
in a face so full of meaning
as to almost make it glow – The Tragically Hip

Paris. The city of romance, love, and artists. Why didn’t she come before now, she wondered as she sat at a small table drinking her coffee and enjoying the morning sun. She tried to imagine what it would have been like when Hemingway was here. Or Toklas, Picasso, Stein or Henry James. Now she was here, at the famous Montparnasse bar, Closerie des Lilas and perhaps, if she was lucky, inspiration might suddenly strike her.

She was no writer by any means. She had been here for three weeks and still didn’t know what to write on a postcard to send home to her family. Wish you were here, miss you, love you, will call soon, enjoying every minute. That’s what she always put on her postcards.

A small gust of wind blew the postcard off the table. She walked a few steps to retrieve it, sat back down and crossed her legs. She took another sip of coffee while she waited for her breakfast to arrive.

“Excuse me, but you had the other leg crossed. Could you do that again, please?” an older, grey-haired man asked. She had a surprised look on her face, not knowing what to say, he continued, “you see,” showing her his sketch, “you had your legs crossed the other way and I just want to get it right.”

She looked at the drawing, then back at him and a frightened look appeared on her face. “Oh, no, I should explain. You see, I was drawing that trellis behind you, then you sat down and it suddenly became more beautiful and I just had to draw what I saw. See, here is the trellis, before you came,” he flipped a page back over to show her, and then flipped back to the page with her.

“You see, the way the sunlight is highlighting your hair, and that innocent smile, and the curve of your lips, and…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I apologize. I will not continue. Sorry again for the intrusion,” he said as he backed away.

The waiter came, placed a plate in front of her and asked if she might need anything more. “Another cup of coffee, please. Oh, and that gentleman over there, with the sketch book, please bring him another cup of whatever he drinking,” she indicated discretely to the waiter, watching for his understanding, “thank you.”

The waiter returned with coffee, first hers, and then his. He was surprised when he was told who ordered it for him. He looked over to her, she smiled, gave a slight nod, and crossed her legs the way he had drawn them. This was her way of saying he could continue.

After she finished eating, he came over and offered the picture to her. “I don’t usually give them away, but, I think its best that you keep this,” he started, “I don’t sell my work either. I just enjoy drawing. But thank you for allowing me to finish. And you have a pleasant day.” He started to walk away.

Leaving more than enough money on the table, she got up and went after him. “Wait,” she called to him. He stopped and waited for her to catch up. “I’m really sorry about earlier. It’s just no one, I mean,” she bit her lip looking for the right words.

“I understand. And really, I should have asked. But I got carried away. Really, I am not creepy or crazy or a psychopathic. You have such a pretty face, and the mood just struck me, I got carried away.” He smiled at her.

“Thank you for the drawing. It turned out real nice,” she smiled while speaking. Not knowing what to do or say next, he asked her where she was from, and if she was here for business or pleasure. Either way, he would offer to show her some of his favourite spots, if she had the time and if she would be interested.

They spent the rest of the day together, walking all over Paris, stopping in the shops once in a while, but truly enjoying each other’s company. She even posed for him when he took out his camera. As the sun was finally setting, he offered to walk her back to the place she was staying at. As it turned out, it was only a few blocks from where he was staying.

She thanked him for the educational tour, the lively conversation, and wonderful companionship for the day. “You are more than welcome,” he said as he kissed her hand. “If you ever feel like you might want to be drawn or photographed again,” a devilish smile appeared, “I’m just around the corner. And I have coffee every morning at the Closerie.”

She smiled back, tilted her head and said, “I will keep that in mind.” Then turned and went inside. She ran up the stairs to her room and looked down from the window. He was still standing there, looking up for her. When he saw her, he waved, she waved back, and still watching her, he started walking backwards before turning away and finally leaving.

The next morning she walked happily to the Closerie and sure enough, he was there. When he saw her walking towards him, he smiled and stood up to welcome her and pull out her chair. Wow! This really surprised her, did men still do things like this, pull out chairs, open doors and kiss a ladies hand when saying good bye?

He ordered coffee for both of them. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” he asked her, “Do you have plans for today?” What he really wanted to ask was do you want to come back to my place and pose for me? But of course, this question would have to wait until later, since the images of her posing in his mind would possibly frighten her.

“No, I don’t have any plans. I was just going to let the day take me along for the ride.” What a beautiful saying, let the day take me along for the ride. Inspiration strikes at the most peculiar time. She reached for her bag and pulled out her cell phone. She would make a quick note of that so she wouldn’t forget.

The coffee was perfect, she must find out how they do it she told him. Did he have plans for the day? Did he wish to spend the day with her again, because she would love it if he did?

“Actually, I was hoping you would like to spend the day with me again,” he said. “Have you ever modelled before?” knowing the answer would be no, she was too shy, but he would change that. “I am working on a project and I could really use a model. Do you like to wear costumes?”

Glad that he wanted to spend the day with her, she answered, “No, I have never modelled, and yes, I do like to dress up in costumes. What kind of project are you working on?” she could help but be curious. And hell, this was Paris, with models, drawings, pictures, music, food, and it was all artistic and beautiful.

After they finished their coffee, they went back to his place. It had windows everywhere, little furniture but drawings and photographs everywhere. He showed her a few of his other projects, but the one he had in mind for her, was his own private project.

He offered her something to drink as he turned on a small stereo in the corner of the room. Surprised when Howlin’ Wolf started playing Moanin’ at Midnight, she loved that song, and told him.

Before they got started, he would have to take her measurements and order a few things to be delivered later that afternoon. While they waited for the delivery, they talked about life at home and in Paris. How could one really compare the two? They talked about relationships, work, education, travels, art, and of course, music.

She noticed he had a couple of guitars. She asked him to play something for her, “to help pass the time,” she reasoned. He turned off the stereo and walked over to pick up an acoustic guitar as she got comfortable in the deep and ultra comfy oversized chair; he smiled and asked if she had any requests. She couldn’t offer up anything so he asked if he could play one of his favourite songs. The Rain Song, a song from his favourite band, Led Zeppelin.

She couldn’t believe he could know of the song she played in her head all day since hearing it this morning. It was just an eerie coincidence and it’s too bad she couldn’t carry a tune or she would sing along.

There was a knock at the door. It was the delivery boy with several bags and a few boxes. He was told to set them behind the folding screen near the photograph equipment. He paid the delivery boy and turned on the stereo again, Thank You, another Led Zeppelin song, started to play.

She could change behind the screen, he told her, “and if there is anything you have questions about, just ask.” She went to put on the first outfit, curious to see what all this stuff was for. The first item she pulled out was a rich purple velvet corset with laces in the back. For her to wear this, he would need to do the laces up. Is she ready for this?

What else was here? Another corset this time it was Emerald Silk with Gold & Silver Brocade. There were stockings, garter belts, and a blindfold. These are not costumes, but lingerie. And he wanted her to pose in these. At least he had good taste so far; she would be made to feel sexy and desired, if only by a camera lens.

She wondered what else there was while she put on the black stockings. Had she known she would be wearing this, she might have done more with her hair. Once she was ready to be laced up, she stood out from behind the screen. He was sitting in a chair a few feet from her, waiting, smiling. Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd was now playing, another nice slow but great rock song.

He stood up and walked over to her. “Would you like me to lace you?” he asked. She turned around for him and with both hands, lifted her long curly hair out of his way. He admired her tattoo, straight down her spine, he gently traced it. He was gentle even though he was pulling the laces quite tight. He knows what he is doing, so I am sure he has done this before, she thought.

Although he was tempted to caress her shoulders, he resisted, knowing he would be doing that later. Once finished lacing, he took her hand and led her to another chair that was positioned in front of a camera. At first, he positioned her to be photographed, then he would just ask her to pose in the position he wanted.

After a few minutes of posing he stopped. He asked that she pull the corset down a bit in front to allow more of her breasts to show. Then he moved the chair away and pulled over a chaise and had her sit and pose on that.

When he felt he had her in a great pose, on her knees, bending over the edge of the chaise, head turned to look at him with lips slightly parted and pouty, he stopped taking pictures. He walk over, made a few adjustments to her pose, fixed her hair the way he wanted it and told her not to move.

He took a couple more pictures, then picked up his sketch book and sat down in front of her to draw. When he finished that drawing, he asked her to change into a different corset and again he would help lace her. After wearing four different corsets and taking respectable tasteful pictures and drawings, he asked her to wear one last thing.

He gave her a box that arrived a few minutes after she was behind the screen putting on the first corset. Before handing the box over to her he asked, “If you feel you don’t want to go any further once you open this box, I will understand. But do know, that if you put this on, we will be doing a bit more than taking pictures. And if you do wish to go ahead, I will then explain the rules to you.”

She looked at the box and his hands and then into his eyes. There was something about his eyes that she liked. He smiled at her, and she felt safe and frightened at the same time. Did he mean sex when he said more than taking pictures? she thought. She took the box from his hands and went behind the screen.

He said I could change my mind once I looked inside, so let’s see what’s inside. She removed the lid and pulled back the tissue paper. Her eyes widen in surprise and shock from what she saw. It was a sexy black leather demi cup corset with pockets, buckled collar and shoulder straps and trimmed with pink leather. It laced up in the back and there was a pair of pink leather shorts with buckles on the sides.

Wow. She didn’t expect this. And what’s wrong with this. It’s still tasteful, just in a more bad-girl way. Sure, why not she thought and started to undress and put on this new and exciting outfit. Because of the amount of time she was taking, he knew she was up for it.

He moved the cameras and lights over to the sleeping area. There was a bed, a wardrobe and two manacles attached to the wall. When she was ready, she went over to where he was setting up the camera and she made a small noise by clearing her throat. He turned to look at her, even more beautiful than he imagined. Since I’ve Been Loving You was now playing, another Zeppelin song.

He walked over to her and she turned slowly and lifted her long hair once again to allow him to lace her. This time, when he was done, he moved his hands to her waist and held her while he moved closer to her. Sensing this, she kept her hair held up and tilted her head slightly to one side and turned as if she was going to look at him. He kissed her shoulder.

His lips were soft and just moist enough to send a shiver down her spine. With another kiss closer to her neck, he slowly move his hands up towards her breasts and from under them, he squished and squeezed them.

With another kiss on her neck this time, he brought his thumb and forefingers together on her nipples and squeezed tight. She let out a surprised sigh as she closed her eyes and push back into him. She lowered one hand from her hair and placed it on his, which was on her breast. With his other hand he reached for hers and held it painfully firm, his now free hand, he put it around her throat, then slowly moved his hand up to her cheek and turned her head to face him to kiss her. He gently bit her lip and teased her mouth with his tongue. He then let go of her hand and with both hands indicated that she turn to face him. They continued to kiss as he stepped backwards, pulling her forward making her feel as if she is in a dream, but a dream she once had before, so something very similar, a very long time ago. It’s so surreal that there is no other way to explain it, other than to experience it. It was hypnotic.

He reached the wall where the manacles were and stopped kissing her. He stepped aside and guided her, front first, against the wall. She knew that he wanted her hands to be bound so she offered them to him, one at a time and he buckled her in, all the while kissing her.

Once secured, he placed the blindfold over her eyes and whispered in her ear, “The rules, my love, are simple. I will not force you to do anything. But from now on, you will do as I say and if you disobey me, you will be punished. If you cry out, you will be punished. If you beg me to stop, you will be punished. But anytime you want me to stop, and then say STOP. You are in complete control. So my love, this is your last chance to change your mind. Do you wish me to undo the manacles and you can change back into your own clothes so that I might take you back to your hotel?”

She hesitated for a several seconds and didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Taking in a deep breath, “No. I understand the rules,” she said with a little trepidation. He stood behind her, leaning into her, pushing her against the wall. With his right leg, he forced it between hers and using it and his foot, force her legs apart. He moved her hair and kissed her neck a few times, and then gently bit it.

She sucked in another deep breath and he bit her again but harder this time. Then he stopped and stepped back. She heard him move away and then return, she could hear the sound of the camera and although she was blindfolded, she could still sense the flash.

Sometimes he would put her corset just so, exposing just a bit more flesh each time, and then he would take another picture. He would undo the corset a bit or the shorts and reveal even more skin. He stopped photographing to do a quick sketch of her in this vulnerable position. Because she was blindfolded, she could only guess at what he might be doing because of the sounds she heard behind her.

When he felt he was done taking pictures, he again walked away and then returned. She could hear heavy and hard things being moved around but just couldn’t imagine what was coming next. This time, when he came close to her, “If you cry out, you will be punished,” he reminded her as he laced up her corset and buckled her shorts and kissing her slowly and tenderly as he did so.

He held a rabbit hide flogger and caressed her shoulders with it and used it on her ass. She knew what he was doing, but had no idea what he was using. After about a minute of this, he stepped back and reached for another flogger. This one was made of beautiful blonde horse hair.

This she could certainly endure, she thought, and after about two minutes he stopped. She knew he was reaching for something else, but what? It was the same thing but this one made of suede and this one hurt a bit and with the first stroke, she made a startled cry.

“Did you speak or say something, my love?” he approached her as he asked. “No,” she replied. He stepped back and swung at her ass again, and through the leather it didn’t feel too bad. “Next time, my love, when you speak to me, whether a question or answer, you address me as My Love. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my love,” she answered. And with this, he walked to her side, told her to turn her head to face him and he kissed her hard and passionately on the lips. He stepped behind her and started to flog her again. He alternated sides and the lashes got harder upon each return.

Tears welled up in her eyes but she didn’t make a sound. And with the blindfold on, he wouldn’t notice the tears, she hoped. She reminded herself that the pain was like that of getting her tattoo work done. Yes, it stings now, but the pain fades eventually. And if she can take the pain of tattooing down her spine, she can certainly take this.

After a few more minutes, he stopped. Her shorts were buckled up on the sides. He undid one side, not removing the lace, just loosened it. Then he picked up the camera and took a few more pictures. Then he unlaced the other side and pulled the shorts down just a bit, to expose her flesh. Your Blue Room by The Passengers was now playing and the sound, slow and relaxing, so she let herself fall into the moment.

He snapped a couple more pictures, and then more flogging. And after a few good lashes, her ass was now bright pink and turning red, and he liked it. He continued taking pictures after each act and spoke gently to her, never using her name, just “my love” to reassure her that she was safe.

He told her that he was now going to turn her around, so she would be facing him but she would still be bound and cross-armed. Once he had her back against the wall, he kissed her mouth and neck and then her breasts. He gently reached in and lifted each breast out from behind the corset and nibbled on her nipples.  Ring Of Fire, not only what she felt on her bare ass, but Johnny Cash singing the song from across the room.

He stepped back, reached for the rabbit hide flogger and to start with on her breasts and then, the horsehair and finally the suede. Again, with the suede came the tears. To help contain her cries, she bit down on her lower lip.

“My love, if it hurts you just have to say STOP and I will,” he said. She shook her head no, took a deep breath and said “I am fine, my love.” He walked over and kissed her.

He removed her shorts and told her to spread her legs. He kissed her on the lips while his hand slowly move along her thighs, between her legs and then up. She was anticipating his touch, but when his fingers touched her, and made their way inside her, she held her breath. With that touch and his kisses, her body shuddered with desire and she became so wet.

He felt this and found his way to her clit and slowly circled and teased it. Her arms ached not just because they were still being held up and crossed, but she wanted to wrap them around him to hold him against her. She let out a soft moan as he kept on teasing her.

He stepped back, leaving her wanting more. She heard a flip of a switch and then the humming noise of a vibrator over the song, Locked In The Trunk Of A Car, the Tragically Hip, she was surprised he had any clue he knew who they were. And although she wasn’t in the trunk of a car, she could relate, somewhat, but enjoyed what was happening. He first teased her nipples with the vibrator, and then moved it down to her clit. He made her come, not just once, but three times in a matter of twenty minutes with a few minutes to rest in between.

During these resting periods, he fed her fresh fruit told her how well she was behaving, how proud he was of her and he admitted that sometime yesterday earlier on that evening he had fallen in love with her. And he wanted her to stay the night with him, tonight.

He was now ready to start again and asked her if she was also ready. “Yes, my love, I am ready,” she spoke. He softly kissed her left nipple and then put a clamp on it. He did the same to the right one. He bit her lower lip again to hold in her cry of discomfort. And using the horse hair flogger proceeded to strike her breasts.

Coincidence or not, a Tragically Hip song again, Courage and now this is what she needed. Now this hurt and tears came down her cheeks, but she didn’t cry out, she didn’t speak at all. He stopped flogging and tightened the thumb screws on the clamps and this time, she let out a cry. “Oh, my love, you were doing so well. But now, you must be punished,” he said as he unbound her from the manacles.

He softly placed her hands behind her back and in soft suede cuffs. He led her to the bed, placed a cushion on the floor and helped her to kneel on it. Then he removed his clothes and sat on the bed in front of her. He positioned her between his legs and told her to open her mouth.

Gently guiding her head, he lowered it to meet with his rock hard dick. And told her to suck it, lick it, kiss it, and love it. And she did. He moaned with pleasure, stroking her hair as she moved her mouth up and down his cock, licking it, and teasing with her tongue.

Young Lust, how appropriate, by Pink Floyd was playing as she was enjoying his delicious cock. She thought of the movie The Wall and how sexy the scene, dancing with strangers in a trailer, with this song playing.

His breathing was getting heavy and the moans a bit louder, she found herself becoming more aroused. He felt himself just about ready to come and stopped her. He bent over, kissed the top of her head and then stood up.

“Stand up, my love,” he said as he helped her stand. He kissed her on the lips and walked away. When he returned, he told her he wanted her to wear something, and he instructed her as he helped her to put it on. Still wearing the blindfold she could only guess why he was unbuckling her shorts. Guiding her body with hands and words, he helped her step into something but until he had it in place, she realized it was a small but incredibly powerful vibrator on her clit, she knew this was going to get exciting. He helped her up and onto the bed, removed the cuffs and ordered her on her hands and knees. Otis Rush was singing Right Place, Wrong Time.

He turned on the vibrator and her achingly tender clit was willing to take it. She could hear him behind her but had no clue what he was doing. And then she felt it, a wet with lubrication thin vibrator in her ass. Slowly pushing it in, then out and then in again before turning it on. He left it there and again, she could hear him doing something behind her.

He brought the chair over to sit in behind her so he could see watch her get off. Now being stimulated in two willing holes, she was gasping with pleasure and moving slightly to find the best spot to give her the most pleasure. He increased the speed of both vibrators and continued to watch.

The minute she put her head down on the bed, he spoke, “my love, you must keep you head up at all times.” She raised her head and let out a deep, long, moan that he knew was filled with pure satisfaction. She came and he could see her body tremble with each ripple of that orgasm.

The turned up both vibrators to their full speed and she screamed with pleasure. “My love, you cried out and I know it was a good, pleasingly satisfying cry, but my love, you must be punished.” And with that, he slapped her ass hard with his bare hand and then pushed his cock inside her lusciously wet hole.

With that, she took a deep breath in, and arched her back, raising her head. He placed his hands on her hips and pulled them hard against his body as he push himself deeper into her.  She felt as if she was losing her mind, and didn’t know how much more she could take. A vibrator in her ass, a small one on her clit and now, his big hard cock inside her cunt, she thought she was going to explode.

Her toes were curling tight, she grabbed on to the blanket pulling it up so she could bite down, to try to muffle any noise she made, and her muscles were starting to ache and give out. “My love,” she called out with a dry raspy whisper. He kept moving in and out of her, but slower while he answered her “yes, my dear, what is it?”

She couldn’t speak, the feeling was too incredibly wonderful to even think, but she needed water, needed to moisten her lips and mouth and “water” was all she could say. But he didn’t stop, she didn’t say stop. And he was just about to come.

She screamed out with pure bliss as she came again and this time even stronger than before and her body began to shake. And he came. And as quickly as he came, he turned off both vibrators slowly one speed at a time, and before removing himself, he gave a couple of slow deep thrusts. Still on her hands and knees, he crawled on the bed beside her, up to her face and kissed her passionately. He held her as she collapsed in his arms and she started to cry. Dedicated To The One I Love by The Mamas And The Papas played as they lay on the bed for a while, catching their breath.

He kissed again and held her against his hot and sweaty body. He removed the blind fold and kissed her beautiful tears. “Did I hurt you at all, my love?” he asked. She chuckled and looked at him. Shaking her head no, “that was…the best …. EVER, my love. And I am just so happy right now.”

As he removed the clamps from her nipples, he licked, kissed and sucked each one so tenderly and said, “I am so glad you are happy, my love, but you screamed, with pleasure I know, but still my dear, it’s a cry. And I am sorry to say, you must be punished. However,” he said in an upbeat tone, “I think you deserve something to drink, time to rest and your punishment can wait. Until tomorrow. Would you be happy with that, my love?”

He hugged her and kissed her and looked deep into her brown eyes and fell in love with her all over again. She whispered, “Yes, my love. That would make me happy.”

“Behind every beautiful thing, there's some kind of pain.” - Bob Dylan