Miss May's Plain Wooden Chair

Miss May's Plain Wooden Chair

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


I'm supposed to write about what I'm thinking of right now, and all I can think about is that plain wooden chair...


I'm supposed to write about what I'm thinking of right now, and all I can think about is that plain wooden chair...


Submitted: November 18, 2012

A A A | A A A


Submitted: November 18, 2012




I’m sitting in the front row of our writing class and I spot this chair in the corner of the room.  You know the kind of chair you might think of as the ‘naughty’ chair.  But this is a grown up chair in a grown up class, and all I can think about is that damned chair.

Not the chair in the classroom, but the plain wooden chair in the corner of my bedroom.  It sits there empty as a reminder…


My Plain Brown Chair:  My Exploratory Into Voyeurism

As with all my explorations, it took some convincing to talk my partner into participating.

The concept: voyeurism; the setting: my bedroom; The participants (I use the term loosely): Jonathan (my current partner at the time), Carla (my best friend), and myself.


It was Jonathan that bound me to the chair.  For my own sexual enhancement I was completely nude.  He took his time with the task, doing a thorough job of it and insuring I couldn’t move.

“So you want to watch…  But why do you want to be tied up like this?”

“I don’t want to interfere in any way. Besides, I want to be completely free to examine my own responses.”

He raised his eyebrows, “A threesome?”

“Not this time.”  He looked at me curiously, grinning and shaking his head.

“You look sexy like that.  Man the things I’d like to do to you!”

“Oh yeah?” I teased.  “What sort of things?”  He looked down at me tenderly.  He reached out his hand.

“Don’t touch me!” He jerked his hand away.  He finished binding me without speaking.  He was angry.  Didn’t he know what I was trying to experience?  Why couldn’t he understand that if he touched me even once he would ruin the experience in its entirety?

“And this?” His voice flat as he held out the silk scarf I set out.

“So I can’t beg.  So I can’t control.”

He looked me straight in the eyes.  He tied the gag in place.  Then his eyes softened.  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I nodded.

“From this time on, you have no choice.” He warned.

I nodded.

He looked at me one last time, nodded once, then walked away turning out the lights as he went.

I had been prepared for a lot of things, but this was not one of them.  Already my mind was thinking of future explorations where I had freedom of movement, and where my partner couldn’t dismiss me to the darkness of the room chastised and helpless. 

The darkness had an eerie effect on me.  In turns I felt shock, rejection, dismissal, and arousal, but ultimately I felt very vulnerable.  My thoughts were like demons come to torment me until I was very unsure with myself.  Then I heard the door open and Carla came in.

I could hear them out there greeting each other, speaking to each other in earnest tones at some length.  To some degree I was frustrated with not being privy to their conversation, but since it was their only privacy of the evening I felt ashamed that I wanted to take even that away from them.

They came into the room with the blinding light of the living room before darkness settled once again. Carla was walking backward toward the bed, Jonathan guiding her.  There were sounds of kissing that turned into groans and gasps.  Soft little sounds of pleasure interrupted by cloth falling on the carpet.  The sounds were so erotic.  I felt my breaths quicken. 

“Can I see her?”  Carla asked quietly

“Not yet.”  I could still hear the bite of anger in his voice.

The creaking of the bed alerted me to their position, but my sight hadn’t readjusted to the darkness yet.

There was a sudden cry.  A gasp of surprise.

“May I?”  He asked in a seductive soft voice.

“Please!” There was wonder and desire in Carla’s voice.

I heard soft swishing sounds of fabrics and guessed that he was tying her to the bed.  Once she was secured he turned on the soft light by the bed.

She looked so lovely leaning against a backdrop of pillows in just her black lace bra and underwear, her arms stretched out to the bedposts.  The vision made me want to touch her.  I was surprised at myself because I had never thought of or desired to touch a woman before.

As he stroked her breasts and she came alive under his touch I felt myself straining against my bonds.  I was shocked with my desire to touch her.  I had to force my body to relax.

Carla was arching her back pressing her breast into his hand. “Please…” she cried out.

“Please what?” He murmured enticingly.

“More…” she panted. “Harder…” she pleaded.  “I don’t know!”

I wanted to reach out and pinch those lovely nipples behind the lace; to stroke them and twist them and yes, to suckle them.  All because I knew that that was what she was begging for, yearning for.

He twirled his finger around her breast lazily circling closer to her nipple.

“Make up your mind,” he teased. “I can’t help you if you don’t know what you want…”

She moaned, her face growing red even in the dim lighting. “Pinch me.” She said so soft I could barely hear her.

He reached over and tweaked her nipple. She groaned her dissatisfaction. “Harder” she demanded a little more loudly. She gave a startled gasp of pain her eyes going wide.

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked tenderly.


“Do you want more?”  He teased her breast with his fingers.


“Then ask me.”  He whispered.


“Please what, Carla?” he encouraged.

“Pinch me.”

“Again, again.” She cried out.  “More, no. harder!”  She coached tearfully.

He groaned and leaned in to suck her nipples through the fabric of her bra.

“Ohhh” she moaned. “Bite me. Please”

Every time she said the word please, I felt the need to respond.  The very vulnerability behind the word; the need to ask for something she was ashamed to ask for…

“Please, again….again….again.”  She cried. Her whole body was trembling, and he calmly stroked her breasts, pulled down her bra and lavished each with his tongue until she was gasping again with desire.  Her whole body began shaking with need, and I saw her dilemma. 

She didn’t want him to stop, but she didn’t want him to abuse her tender breasts any more.  She started making pathetic little sounds and still he stroked and licked almost obsessively.

Part of me was angry with him for pushing her to ask for every little thing.  I was thankful I had the foresight to have Jonathan bind me, or I would have interfered by now.

“What do you want from me?” he breathed against her skin.  “What can I do for you, Carla?”  He coaxed.

“Anything!” she wailed.

He moved so suddenly I jerked back in the chair.  He lifted her hip to expose her rounded bottom and smacked her soundly three times.

Her eyes rounded in shock.

“Anything?” he asked harshly.  “Or you don’t know?  There is a difference.”

“I don’t know.” She said softly.

“Maybe I can help you make up your mind.” He murmured gently.

I thought the spanking was a bit much.  Surely he knew the girl just needed to find release…  Still, there was something quite stimulating about the little scene.  The shocked little gasp that escaped her lips, the startled look in her eyes that made my body respond so… fiercely.

“I could explore…” he stroked his fingers over her whole body, over her abdomen, around her hips down her legs and up again.” Open your legs for me.” He coaxed.  Slowly she lifted her knees and dropped them open.

It was such a tender request, such a lovely act.  I bit back the groan I dared not voice.

His fingers slid over the lace of her underwear, his finger slipped just underneath the edge and brushed at hidden promises.

“May I remove them?”

“Yes, please.”  Her voice sounded constricted.

Very slowly he inched them down, dragging his finger back and forth just under the edge.

Oh God, the anticipation was killing me.

Every time she lifted her hip for him I felt my belly clench.

He very tenderly lifted each leg drawing the lace over her heals and carefully set them aside.

“I could…” his fingers traveled up her leg until he slipped the tip of his finger just in between her soft pink lips.  He swirled his finger around teasingly.

“I could stroke you or tickle you or thrust my fingers deeper and deeper inside you until you beg me to stop.”  His fingers continuing in those slow lazy circles inside those lips. But the heat and desire in his voice made me want those fingers thrusting inside me.

“I could kiss you or lick you or nibble on that tiny little pearl. His finger moved to tease her clit; I watched in breathless anticipation as her hips jerked.

“I could spank you… or caress you… or just hold you if you want.  I could thrust myself deep inside you while you are all tied up.  I could”… he climbed on top of her still fully clothed.  “Bite your tender little breasts until they hurt.  So.  Much.” He emphasized each word by thrusting his hardness between her legs.  “And slam my body into yours” he said through gritted teeth.  “Thrusting my cock so deep you beg me and beg me to stop.”

He pulled her legs over his shoulders and pressed his bulge against her tight back side.  “Or I could work myself into that tight little behind as deep as you can take me and maybe just a little bit more.  And all you have to do.  Is.  Ask.”

Her whole body was quaking with need, but so was mine.  Oh God! I had tears in my eyes.  Why did he never speak like this to me?

Then he whispered softly, “So ask.”

She was shaking her head with tears in her eyes.

He released her suddenly and stood up.  He glanced toward my corner letting me know he hadn’t forgotten me.  He sat on the bed next to her, touched her cheek wiping away her tears.

“I’m not doing another thing until you ask.”  He moved as if to leave.

“Please!” She called franticly.

“Please what?” His voice was quiet and tender.

“Don’t make me tell you.”  She whispered.

“I can’t help you” he pleaded with her. “If you won’t tell me what you want.”  His voice sounded hoarse.  “I just want to please you, please tell me how.”

Tears slid down my cheeks.  I willed her to find the courage to ask.

“Please,” he whispered.

“Please spank me.”  She said softly.  “Spank me until I cry; until I’m sobbing and begging you to stop. Please.  Then when I’m broken, will you make tender love to me?”

“Yes.”  He kissed her tenderly, drinking in her lips.  “Yes, yes, yes.”  He said it passionately.  And I cried.

He untied her hands and asked, “Do you want me to use my hand or my belt?” He asked gently, in such contrast with the subject matter.

“Both, I think.”  He nodded.

“Bend over the bed please.”  Gently he helped her find the position he wanted.  Then he surprised me by lying on the bed next to her.  “At this point I have to explain how this is going to work… you have to find the one thing you feel you just can’t do.  Do you know what that is?”


“Tell me.”

“Anal sex.”  She answered without hesitation. 

“You have to yield that to me.”

“You mean I have to let you...”  She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“In.”  He finished for her.  “You have to let me in.  I’m not going to lie to you.  Sometimes it’s painful at first, but that goes away.  Then you will be filled with such need, you will just want me to go deeper and deeper still.”  He traced her spine with the tips of his fingers.  “It is an unbelievable experience.  Once you reach that point, you may make the decision if you want me to stop.”

“Why. She asked tearfully.  “Why do I have to do this?”

“Because” he told her with aching tenderness, “You want to be released emotionally.  You want to be broken.  The fastest way that I know to do that, is for you to yield to my will, something you are not willing to give.”

“Okay.” She whispered.

“I won’t be able to let you go after this.”  He looked at her with something close to worship.

I felt like my heart had been torn out of my chest.  The pain of loss was shattering.  What was happening here?  What connection did he make with Carla that he never made with me?  Why not me?

“Do you still want to do this?  Once I start there is no stopping until it is finished.”

“Please.” She whispered hoarsely.

He stood up “Stay.”

He knew where to find the lubricant, though we had never used it this way.  I watched as he removed all his clothing.  I was surprised that even through this little talk, he had not softened.

I wondered at the man that I was seeing for the first time.  It was like Jonathan was a complete stranger to me.  He seemed stronger, more confident, like he knew what he was doing…  Did I in some way take that away from him?

He used the lubricant to push his finger slightly inside.  “Let me in?”

She shook her head “I can’t.”  He smacked her sharply.

“You’re going to let me in.” he assured her.


He smacked her several times with his hand.  Already her bottom was red.  “Is this or is this not mine?”  He grabbed her bottom his fingers sinking into the flesh.  “Yes” she cried.

He teased her back entrance until she was moaning. “I want you to give me this.”  He tugged her rear a little higher with his finger.

“I can’t.” She sobbed.  He smacked her several more times.  “Give yourself to me.  I need to be inside you.”  He demanded, slipping one finger inside then another.  “I need this, I have to have this, let me inside you…”

I marveled at the delicateness of his approach, going out of his way not to embarrass her, and the complete contrast of the force he used to carry out her request.

“I can’t!” she wailed.

He snatched up the belt, smacking her soundly again and again until she was sobbing.  Then he pressed himself firmly against her bottom sliding up and down her tight crease until she was pressing back against him.

He slipped the head of his cock inside the tightness of her rear drawing moans from both of them.  He pushed a little further and further still until she cried out.

“Stop” she sobbed. He reached down and caressed her breast until she was moaning.

“Tell me to come in” he coaxed.  “Please take me…”

She was shaking her head crying.

“I can make it quick.  Three, four, five thrusts and the pain will be gone.”

“I want to…” she sobbed.

“Tell me to come in.” He coaxed.

I pushed my bottom down into the chair, wanting her to push against him, wanting her to yield to his tempting voice.

When she remained silent he pushed her from him.  He spanked her then with his open hand.  About every third time his hand slipped down far enough to slap against her swollen lips.

I knew he was doing it on purpose because I could see he was being gentler when his hand dipped down.  The way her body jerked, the way she cried, it was so beautiful to me.

“I want you so bad, I want all of you; I want to stroke you.  I want to love you softly.  I want you to feel everything I can give you, even the pain. Please let me,” his voice was hoarse.

I saw a glimmer of light that may have been tears dripping down on her backside, probably reacting to her pitiful broken sobbing.  “Please.” He continued relentlessly spanking. “Carla, please.”

“Take me.”  She cried out loudly.  “Please!  Just take me quickly.  Take me, take me.” She sobbed uncontrollably.

He did. He buried himself inside her with one deep stroke.  Her cries of pain mingled her deep shuddering sobs.  He stroked her back and bottom with long tender strokes.  His tears dropped down on her back.

I felt a surge of triumph, she had yielded and he was buried inside her to the hilt, but I felt oddly wounded also, her brokenness was humbling.

“Thank you.”  He pushed into her; A tiny movement only. “Thank you for wanting me.”  He pulled out a little. “Thank you for trusting me with your needs.”

He groaned loudly as he moved inside her. Her body started quaking. “Thank you for letting me deep inside you like this.” His movements became more insistent.

The sobbing had ceased though emotions still shook her body with deep shudders.  She groaned loudly, but the timbre had changed to pleasure. 

“The feel of you wrapped around me so tightly is unbearably pleasant.”

She was rocking back against him now.  “Thank you for begging me to take you.  Thank you for accepting the pain.”  She was crying again or still I lost track.

“Carla,” he said tenderly. “What do you want me to do love?  Tell me what I can do for you.  Please tell me what you want…”

“Do you want me to-” he moved to pull away from her.

“Stay!” she cried out frantically.  “Please, please just stay.” Her voice choked with passion.  “I need you to stay… as long as you can, as deep as you can, Please!”

“Carla my love, you can have me any way you want me.”

I sat tied to my chair unable to leave, unable to speak and watched and listened to the incredibly passionate and unbelievably beautiful soul mating of two people I loved.

I watched all night.  I watched and learned so many beautiful things.  The most profound revelation was loss.  Because I could never look at these two people that I so dearly loved without sharing that night and knowing what I lost.

They released me in the morning. Together.  Rubbing life back into my limbs.

Carla looked me in the eyes and we cried; because she knew my sorrow and I knew her joy.  Jonathan’s voice was tender and he kept wiping away my tears.  He carried me to bed and stroked my hair and face until I fell asleep; Carla sitting tearfully at my feet.

When I woke I curled into a tight little ball and cried great sobs that felt like they were being ripped from my soul.  I cried until I was spent emotionally.  Then when the numbness settled in I started packing. 

I packed in a dazed panic.  I took the barest of necessities and left everything and everyone precious behind. (Except the chair, I couldn’t leave the chair.)

I learned the cost of experience that long night four years ago, and the price is more than I can bear…

Subject: Voyeurism, project terminated no further data available.


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