Hraefn & Rowan – Chapter One

Hraefn & Rowan1

– Chapter One –2

“Hush…” came the whispered words to Rowan.  Each simple utterance seemed to dance within her ear, as she pondered her delicate situation and position. 3

The heated breath, which so softly caressed her delicate ear, burned into her and instantly she felt as if she would crumble to the floor in a molten heap.  It was now, just past the slow trudging of half of an hour, since his arrival, and still he had not taken her.  Rowan quivered within, just after she stopped herself from turning her head any further, which would have granted her the unobstructed view of his shadow.  She knew she could not move– but she had willingly.4

Again the whispered breath shot into her ear, though this time it carried a harshness, which reminded her of her fragile state.  Rowan knew that she was not to move, and she knew that the whips awaited her, in the adjacent room.  The tender welts, which criss-crossed her otherwise smooth ass, were reminders to her of the previous failure.  As she thought back to the moments of the whipping, to her the pain, which brought tears to her eyes, was also a pleasure she could not grasp. 5

Leather whips were not hard to come by, and he only chooses the best that could be acquired.  The stiff smell of leather overwhelmed her senses, as she recalled the first time she was whipped.  Rowan remembered the firm grip of his hands on her waist, as he guided her rigidly to a kneeling position– where her head was buried within the thick, covers of the bed-quilt, and her heart-shaped rump stuck up in the air.  He had demanded that she open the onyx box that contained the new instrument of punishment.  Rowan could even feel the thick leather under her dainty finger tips, and knew even before the first strike, that the pain would be undoubted.6

Amid the failures, she had become accustomed to nightly feeling the perfect sting of the now blood tinged leather whip.  Though, he very rarely inflicted enough damage to make her bleed, he did leave welts that sent shivering sensations down her spine to her curled toes, every time she moved and her clothing rubbed the raw lines.  7

In an effort to avoid failing him again, she stood frozen and perfectly still; perfectly in place, perfectly unmoved from her position.  No matter how she looked at it, she had failed him again.  Each muscle remained tensed and locked in passion, or by some outside will imposed upon her.  Either way, Rowan melted, but visibly remained a stone statue, a human woman– the mortal Goddess of love and beauty, so unerringly formed and carved of the softest clay.8

“Knees–”9

That was all that he had to say.  Rowan dropped straight to her knees, feeling the biting cold of the freshly cleaned oaken flooring, as it pressed against her bare knees.  Her eyes remained locked on the floor as she desperately sought out something to focus on, but there was nothing.  Many seconds passed in silence, and then the silence was shattered, but not by words, for no spoken words were needed, while she was in his presence.  Rowan lowered her head, and slightly raised her backside, offering a better view of her curved form from the rear, and at the same time offering herself for punishment.10

Instead of the stinging strike of a hand, she felt his rough hands grasped the back of her neck firmly, forcing her head further down.  His worn hands, though rough, were remarkably sensational.  Every stroke of the rough skin bent her will, and drove her to seek our every desire.  She willingly bowed her head lower, until she could no further bear the mildly forceful pressure.  At the exact moment that she was beginning to feel the welling up of potential pain, the pressure was released.  He knew her well.  11

Many times over the past few months, he had taken her to the limits of her thresholds, and then withdrew, leaving her breathless.  Each time she felt that she could move no further, take no more, or do no more– she was pushed one step further, and found the greatest pleasure.  12

With her head forced down, Rowan felt the tingle of anticipation, and the sensation of excitement bubbling in her.  The deep muscles within her legs, quivered, and trembled, but she did not visible move.13

Time slowed to a near pause, as the rough carved hand remained resting on her delicate neck.  Rowan felt each frail pulse within the tips of the softly gripping fingers, and allowed her own heart to match the steady pace of his heart.  THUMP-thump, it sounded as the blood soared through the arteries and veins of his body, and then surged through the rough fingers, only to be transferred by the softest touch, to her.  Each beat of her heart, was synchronized with his, and she felt the unmatched and overwhelming calm wash over her body, as she began to slow her breaths.  Control– it is the very balance of harmony and pleasure.14

Thoughts flooded her filled mind, as she remained suspended in time. Never had she been the one to submit to anyone, and here she was, at the near deepest reaches of submission.  Yet, within the depths of this darkness, into which, she had fallen, she also had discovered a beauty within her that she had never known– a passion so rich and powerful that it bent her, and brought her to orgasm by thought.  15

Rowan remained motionless on her knees, as her ears and soul sensed his presence behind her.  What was he to do to her?  Silently her hair tumbled over her face, and drifted the sides of her cheeks, where it tickled the raised skin ever so lightly.  Many moments past, and she could feel the prying eyes from behind, she knew that he was looking at her, searching her body.  Though she was graceful, beautiful– she denied the accusations of such acclaim, tending to shy away and openly deny such offers and compliments.  But, when she was here in his presence, she could only kneel, and take the stares and silent admiration of her sheer cherubic arcs and swaying curves.  16

With nothing to see, but the dull brown of the thickly varnished floor, Rowan became fixated on the small lines that ran parallel– marking the edges of the wood.  A single particle of dust drifted silently over the slick varnish, and she watched it move about, in silence, as she waited.  It had been a long time since she felt as out of control as that feeble dusted ball, which drifted to-and-fro so aimlessly. 17

Softly, the rough hand gently touched her right sided shoulder.  The individual fingers danced as if Terpsichore himself guided them, and she through divine will she physically restrained herself from jumping, though she could not prevent the soft sigh that escaped her tender lips.  The sweet whisper hung in the air, before drifting into the thick moments.18

Rowan quickly bit her lower lip.  The force pushed her gleaming white teeth into the soft flesh of her lipid lips.   The rich sensation of iron filled her mouth, and for a brief moment she savored the strong flavor, and slowly sucked on the pierced portion of her lip, to taste more.  Often she found some pleasure in pain– after all the whippings offered her an after-shocking effect, that left her trembling for many minutes, soaked, and ready and in a position to be taken– violently if he wanted.   19

How many times he had whipped her, and then with a swift, and forceful move, grasped her hips, just above the bony portions, and made her raise herself higher, which allowed for a deeper penetration.  When in this position he thrust deeply, and ripping through her with a reckless abandon that sent her squealing with tears rolling down her face.   Then he would finish, roll her over, have her clean herself, and then would hold and caress her heaving form– until sleep claimed her.20

For now he said nothing about the slipped utterance, but continued to let his hand slide down the length of her arm, as if he was stroking some beautiful piece of art, or some fragile valley lily.  Fiery warmth rushed through her arms, and raced down her exposed flesh to her very bosom.  Rowan felt the crescendo of her raging warmth build, reach its superlative form, only to subside to an even thrumming heat.  21

Then, ever so elegantly, he drew up her hand in his, entangling her fingers with his and extended her arm out, which brought him up the right side of her head.  The instant his breath impacted her perfumed neck, Rowan felt her head go light, and her eyes lolled slightly in dire passion.  22

She wilted into his will, and consented to his passions, though she spoke not a word.  Heavy heaves and whispered sighs marked the seconds, as her breasts rose and fell in a rhythmical pattern.  As her head remained low, and her back arched inward, it forced her elegant, and perfectly rounded breasts to jut into the heated air in front of her.  She could feel his eyes as they pried between the feeble fabrics that restrained her breasts.  23

The two mounds of soft flesh were tightly squeezed together, and with no undergarment to restrain the voluptuous mounds, the nipples were clearly outlined against the thin red threads.  With the warm breath still dancing about her neck, she felt his eyes as they tore through the frail cloth and delicately caressed her supple breasts.24

Still, he said nothing, but he did continue his work.  The horror of her punishment was becoming clearer, as the seconds inched on.  Though her eyes remained constrained to the dull wooden floor, she could feel the keen sensation of the worst restraint she could have imagined, as his efflorescent plan burst forth in full fruition.25

His voice, violated the solemn silence, as he commanded her with a single word, “Look.”  It was the only command he gave.  His voice was so soft, like a swift, cool breeze atop a great mountain– it rushed in, demanded attention and then disappeared as a heated whisper once spoken on a frozen night vanishes.26

Rowan snapped her head to the object he held loosely in his right hand just above her own extended arm.  The gloves were black like the deepest night, and were long enough that they would extend inches past her elbow and undoubtedly they were a perfect fit.  The onyx barriers would sheath her hands and forbid her from touching anything with her subtle fingers.  Touch was essential for her, this deprivation would hurt her.  Her mind flew through the events of the evening as she strained to decipher her wrongs and failures, which would require such extensive reprimand.27

Isolation of her touch was a punishment that was unbearable.  Rowan loved the angelic sensation inspired by soft petals, the harsh impression that the roughly hewn cedar beams left on her dainty finger tips, or the seamless feel of perfect satin thong.  28

Just a few days ago, he had brought a box home for her, which contained a few pairs of refined thongs and even a V-string, which were thin in form and sat slightly higher on her hips, which forced them into a sharp arch at the front.  This cut offered a beautiful accent to her curves and her body.  Such clothes were thought to be provocative and unnecessarily sexy.29

Her mind shot back to the moment:  She was about to lose her delicate touch.  Her mind screamed at her, and her heart wrenched at the fear of the restrained sensations.30

“Please– no.”  Was all that Rowan could whisper as the tears soaked her eyes, welled up, and spilled down her flawless cheeks.  Each streak stung her fine velvet cheeks, and piled at the end of her cheek, pausing only for the brief moment, before letting go and plummeting over the edge.31

The stiff hand that covered her mouth was more than her answer, but also a warning that she was becoming a little to vocal.  She cringed at the realization that she had just challenged him.  Deep within her own thoughts, she pleaded for some answer to this punishment, some justification.  After a moment, she steadied herself, and remembered his words from so long ago, and she knew that there was a reason and a plan.  Rowan bit her lower lip at the frustration and ill-mannered reaction.  The taste of raw iron ran down her throat and scented her tongue with blood.  32

Again she found herself savoring the stilted seasoning, and relishing the robust flavor that was assaulting her taste buds.  Suddenly Rowan became keenly aware of the heat in her loins, and the throbbing sensation of her clit was becoming overwhelming.  If only he had not instructed her to deny herself pleasure, her ability to restrain her reactions would be more intact.  33

In the bedroom, within the pale blue and paint chipped beaten night table the resided her few toys.  He had carefully inspected her toys, and had removed a few of them from her humble collection– as he deemed them as unnecessary.  However, he had allowed her the thick dildo, which was among her favorites, and she was allowed her small anal dildo.  It had been a few weeks since the last time she had felt the stiff plastic and rubber penetrate her tight hole– and even longer since her ass had been stretched.  34

Thick fluid slopped down her inner thigh.  The moment that Rowan felt the warmth between her legs, she could smell the intense smell of her own body.  She struggled to focus on the moment, and tore herself from her inner thoughts and hopes for a stiff cock in her ever tighter body.35

At that, she extended her fingers and raised her arm, making it level for him.  The instant her sensitive finger tips felt the velvet lining of the gloves, she felt heat wash over her bent form.  It glided over her fingers, wrapped about her hand and slowly was worked up her arm until it was at last fully in place, extending its full length, just a few inches past her elbow. 36

She dared not look at her arms, but could clearly sense the warmth of the gloves wrapped about her arms.  Her dulled sense of touch, placed a greater demand on her sight, as she could no longer feel, she had to see, smell and listen to everything– for her touch was diminished.37

He placed her arm back into a resting position at her side, and then disappeared.  She did not see him, and she could no longer hear him, though she could feel his very presence.  Though she was fully prepared for the touch on her left shoulder, when it came, she still was unable to control the feeble sigh, which again escaped her moist lips.38

This time, he did react physically.  He forced her hand out, and applied the glove to her arm, quickly and without hesitation.  Rowan held her breath as the seconds drifted past– she knew that her inability to control her mouth was about to cost her, and he would be justified in training her; for she admitted to a complete lack of control.39

The moment his hands completed the gloving, her eyes were covered and she could feel the tightening of the knots at the back of her head, as he fastened the blindfold over her pleading eyes.  Inside, Rowan sunk deeply.  He had removed her delicate touch, and then blinded her frail eyes, leaving her only her keen sense of smell and her heightened hearing.40

Rowan sat there blind, and unable to feel anything with her hands, as he faded away behind her as if he were some immortal phantom or some briefly lingering mist, now gone.  No longer could she feel him there, no longer could she feel the eyes upon her.  Had he left her there?  With her acute ears and exquisite hearing, she sought with all her might to locate him, but she could not.  She heard the crickets outside, the dogs in the main room, the stifled sounds of nature in the distance, and some soft music playing in the background, but she could not hear him. 41

Silently, a thin streak traced its way down her cheek as the unbearable weight of failure wrapped around her.  She was isolated and alone.  Without binding, she remained in place, unmoving and pleading silently for his return.  For all her heart, all her soul and passion screamed against her darkened and desolate state, for her to find him.  Still she remained silent, still she remained still…42

From the depths of contemplation, Rowan found solace in the reality that through her failures, he had never given up on her, and that she knew that soon she would be perfect.  She knew that she could– would please him.  Ever so slightly, she relaxed her hands onto her tense legs, and allowed her neck to relax, though she kept her head as low as possible.  Some of the tension drifted away, and she became more comfortable and contemplated the moments of this night that would be best.  43

She knew that she would get a good whipping tonight.  Though she would never verbally admit it, she cherished the whippings– the stinging pain of the leather.  Rowan also decided that she would offer herself to him tonight, in hopes that he would take her.  Her body needed to be ripped and ravished.  44

When the rough hand stroked her cheek and removed the tear from her face, she lost it completely.  “Oh God…” she moaned as her body shuddered.  The slightest touch of the crude hand threw her into unfathomable bliss, as she soaked herself.  From the insides of her legs, she could feel the throbbing and the swollen bliss of Eros’s orgasmic touch, just as she could feel the warm fluid rolling down her silken inner thighs, only to drip on the barren floor below her.  “Oh God…”45

Just as swiftly as the moment of fire had come and seized her ravished body, the moment vanished.  Stolen by his hand as it flew from her cheek to her throat, where he forced her head up, raising her locked gaze from the floor.  His breath shot into her ear, “Open your mouth– you will learn.”  The words were harsh, though still powerfully caring.46

Rowan obeyed instantly without question.  She opened her mouth, as her mind sailed back to the mistake she had just made.  Why could she not control herself in his presence, when it only mattered in his presence?  She deeply inhaled waiting.47

The silken rope slid easily into her mouth.  A flick of her agile tongue, and she knew that the gag was expertly tied and intended to remind her of her failure to keep her mouth closed, unless it was needed.  He tugged it tightly into place, though it was not uncomfortable, for he had tied it perfectly to fit her slender mouth.48

Rowan allowed her eyes lids to kiss each other quickly, as she took a moment to feel out the gag, which now was logged in her wide-open mouth.  Her nimble and talented tongue, stroked the inner side of the silken knot, and worked over the ribbed form, as she imagined it was more of a man, than a rope.  Was this really a torment?  He had to know of her oral fetish, and oral fixations.49

Quickly her mind settled on the idea of his manhood deep in her mouth, instead of the silken rope.  She traced the knots, and the ribs of the rope and imagined the veins and stiff flesh instead.  Drool seeped out of the corners of her mouth as her mind pleaded for something for her tongue to caress.  The drool slid down to her chin and formed a sticky pool at the base of her face, and threatened to drip to her legs below.50

“My dear,” he started softly, “for you– tonight will be long indeed.”51

In her mind, Rowan had no doubt.  She had failed him a few times today, and she had been warned.  Normally, she would not be so careless about her manner and only on rare occasion would she ever make the mistakes that she had made today, but things were different.  It had been six days since she was last allowed to relieve her own tension, and weeks since her lover had done it for her.  To further the frustrations, he was in no position to assist with that either, though her body screamed for him, and her mind ached for him.  She never asked, and he never asked.52

“You will nod your answers to me.”  He instructed coldly from behind. 53

She noted the short tone, and low deviations of his voice; he sounded stern, direct, and his voice radiated a profound delectation and Rowan nodded in agreement, letting her hair dance beside her cheeks and sending the puddle of drool that clung to her fair skin dripping in a sticky, slow-motion descent to her body. 54

“Stand.”  55

Rowan stood.56

As she stood, she was able to feel the damp spot, where she had wet herself with her sweetest nectar, as it pressed against her bare leg.  She also spotted the thick drool on her legs, from her gagged mouth.  More drool seeped out, and rolled down her face, plummeting to the floor with a dull splattering sound.  Rowan, loved it.57

At the base of her back, just were the arch began, and where the very upper reaches of her gracious curves extended, his hand firmly directed her movement.  Even without her sight, she moved gracefully through the room, under his direction and guidance.  As she thought of the movements, and distances, she determined that she had been moved to the couch.  Her assumptions were confirmed.58

“Sit.”59

Rowan sat.  Her legs rested comfortably on the floor, while her hands lay across her thighs.  She kept her head down, in confirmation of her humbled position.  The cool cloth of the couch came as a relative reprieve, from the hard flooring that she had been kneeling on.  With her impaired senses, her bare legs clearly felt each individual fiber as they clung to her damp legs.60

Though her hands rested on her legs, she could not feel the sticky drool.  The gloves had impaired her feeling, but she sensed the slick sensation as her gloved hand grazed over the slick puddle of drool.  Though she could not directly feel it, she knew it was there, and it forced her to salivate more.  Feverishly, her tongue slid up and down the width of the rope that was impressed into her mouth.  If it only it was his…61

“Relax.”62

Rowan relaxed.  She let her legs drift apart ever so slightly, which allowed her wet body a little more room, and her arms and shoulders lowered slightly to a more comfortable position, though she dared not move her head or raise her eyes from the floor.  She had not even noticed how tense she had become.63

Silence– it enshrouded her, and was only broken every few moments, by the sound of a page being turned, as he turned some pages, in some book.  While she remained at his side, he read in silence.  Her mind struggled with the desolate feelings that were being created, though, on the other hand, he had placed her at his side.  If he did not want her there, she knew that she would not be there.  64

Weeks ago, he had graced her by reading to her, as she knelt on the floor before him.  She clearly remembered the words, but above all she could recall perfectly his resonating and tranquil voice.  His words alone could bring her to the brink, to the very edge of unbearable passion.  Tonight, there were no words, no calming voice, and no illustrious feelings of rampant or violent verbal molestation of her mind.65

So Rowan counted the page turns, as her mind wandered.  Months had passed since her teaching had started, and her trust in him had surpassed anything that she had ever expected.  What amazed her most was, his unerring respect for her, and his never-ending reassurance of her grace, her beauty, her passion, her honesty, her fire, her lust for life, her drive for perfection, and her will to be the best.  It was under this guidance that she had blossomed into the woman that she was, into the delicate flower of the valley.  66

Just when she felt that she had failed in some unrecoverable way, he was there to explain to her what she had done, why she had done it, and how to improve herself, and at the same time, he would inspire her and encourage her.  Often she found herself waiting desperately for each moment near him.  Around him, she felt like a real woman.  The effects of his voice, his touch, or even his simple presence were all consuming.67

Her body surged in heat, and she felt the tingling wetness drip down her supple skin for he had instructed her to wear nothing but her favored skirt. Her sweet nectar ran down her curves, and soaked the cushion beneath her.  Slowly she allowed her hand to slide between her legs.  She felt the slight pressure, as she pressed down gently against herself.  How much more could she take?68

Each page turn, forced her heart to sledge ever harder against her body, with an uneven, yet rhythmic beating.  Twenty-eight pages had turned, and still he had said nothing, still he had not touched her in any way.  It was then that it happened–69

“…I watch thee in lust, though you are blind–70

For I caress thy perfect curves with my eye,71

And see an unfathomed woman that no others find;72

And kiss thy tear soaked cheek as you cry¬–73

Knowing your punishment is near, you cry.”74

His potent voice paused at the end of the verse, though Rowan knew it was not the end of the poem, for she knew this poem well.  Her body visibly shook with the words, and she knew that he was more than just reading those words aloud, because he wanted to.  He was far too perfect for that, and Rowan knew that the weight of those particular words, were far too heavy for her.  75

It only took seconds before the tears, like crystal streams, rolled out from beneath the confines of the blindfold.  Just as the tears reached the edge of her face, and were about to plummet, they were removed.  His hand gently erased them.76

“Be still,” he commanded in his naturally soft, yet overwhelming tone.77

Rowan could do nothing but nod her agreement, and did all she could to steady herself.  At least she knew that he had not abandoned her completely.  78

She felt the slight tug at the back of her head, and the light of the candles, which she had lit earlier, flooded into her open eyes.  Rowan kept her eyes on the floor, and dared not move.  79

“Look at me,” he commanded.80

Rowan slowly looked up at him, as he sat next to her with the worn book in his hand.  Even though he had commanded it, she felt unworthy to look upon his face or at his deep eyes.  81

“Look at me.”82

Her head snapped up, and her eyes locked with his caring and mysterious brown eyes.  Only the fraction of a second passed, but to her it seemed like an eternity.  As if time had stopped and stood still.  On rare occasions she was allowed the pleasure to look directly at his eyes.  She was subdued with passion, and she nearly surged at him, for she craved his rugged and firm skin pressed against her own.83

His steady voice rang clear in her perfect ears, “We are going out tonight– and I need to know that you will behave.”84

Rowan felt her eyes widen in surprise.  She was going to be taken out tonight– quickly she nodded her approval, without ever taking her eyes off of his.  Never had he taken her out like this, and she knew that this moment would change everything.  Within the secluded depths of her inner soul, she drew in an immortal breath, and prepared for the plunge.85

To be continued...86