Straight-Six

On the passenger seat Mia was taken by surprise when I pulled over onto the soft shoulder. Dirt crunched beneath rubber as the effortless carving along the forest road came to a halt. Wordless I got out of the car and circled its front end to open her door. Surprised as she might be, the mischievous smile on her lips gave away her assumption.

She accepted my hand to help her out. The ground on her side was treacherous with freshly fallen leaves — not at all what four inch siletto heels would recommend themselves to. The way she slide off her seat and straightened herself caught my eye — a suspicious tenderness which I had also noticed back at the restaurant.

To the rear of the low-slung sports saloon I guided her, opening the boot before I stepped aside. Mia took a peek at our luckgage.

“Well, I would not fit in there today, as it seems.”

“Your clothes will perfectly, though.”

She renewed her smile, yet glanced up and down the winding macadam, and if only to take in the implications my request invited. This was not a much frequentlyd road, and narrow as it was we were not presenting an obstacle. Still, any passing vehicle would be likely to slow down for a good look at the scene.

Mia turned her back to me and held her hair up.

“Do you mind?”

I obliged by unzipping her tasteful nappa leather dress. It was inspiring to behold what an impeccable duo Mia and the dark automobile made, completing their respective counterpart through elegance and sophistication without ever being an accessory to each other.

“Thank you.”

She slipped it off in the most gracile manner, again minding her bearing. The dress found a resting place across the baggage. Not prone to hesitance, she hooked a finger left and right into the waistband of her thong. Such manipulation combined with alluring move of the hips caused the delicate article to slide down her legs. Mia stepped out of it, and I picked it up to reunite it with her dress.

“Shall I keep my shoes on?”

A valid question indeed. Her d’Orsays accentuated her shaped legs and feet to stunning effects. But in this moment I preferred her unadorned. I wanted her bare.

Once she had rendered her beloved footwear to me for stallage, Mia assumed what she liked to call her attention pose. Standing straight with her legs closely together, she brought her arms Behind her and pressed the backs of her hands against each other. As a subtle tease she also rose onto the balls of her feet, an addition as aesthetically pleasing as it was strong.

I keep myself invested in the boot by opening the bespoke leather case we had been especially diligent to bring with us. From among the paraphernalia of discipline I chose a set of thigh belts.

“Buckles to that side where they do the most good.”

“Why, certainly.”

Mia took the leather items and got busy cuffing them high around each upper leg. She had to spread her Stance quite a bit for this, and even then she remained on her toes. When she closed her thighs again, now properly belted, the buckles came in full contact with her womanhood. For now it was only the sensing of cool metal against skin. For now.

“Bend over the bonnet for me.”

Playing innocent, she tip-toed along the flank of the car. Mia knew exactly that the empty spot in our gym kit hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. With her legs stretched out parallel and her orders still arched, she draped herself across the warm metal, yet rested on it only with her chest and shoulders. As she sensed me behind her, she put on quite a show by reaching back and spreading herself in mocked submission.

Gleaming between her buttocks was the base of her silver plug, an implementation second to none in her favorite. And rightfully so, since it was of excisite quality. A gold version had been available as well, but that would have been vulgar.

“Remind me, have you asked for my permission to play with your bum?”

“Of course not.”

“And did I not ordain that nothing shall penetrate your body without my say-so?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice.”

She knew where such coquetry would land her. I left Mia for a moment, only to return with her ball gag.

“Head up, please.”

I slung the gag over her face, brought it down to her lips. Mia resistant, Keep her jaws clenched as I knew she would. On occasion she would summon her rebel persona for me to handle. Sometimes I would play along. More often I would cane it out of her until her pledges that she would be a proper young lady again had convinced me. I held the gag straws taught as if they were reins. When Mia did open her mouth, the rubber ball wedged itself in and locked behind her teeth with a Satisfying sound. And because she had decided to be a smart-aleck, I roller-buckled the neck straps one hole tighter than usual underneath her hair. Hauling her up and around, I pressed a thumb against the black sphere framed by her lips. It did not budget.

Back to the boot she had to practice for me, the strain in her calculates now evidence. Our play had an effect on me, and I found it advised to loosen my tie and undo the topmost button of my dress shirt. The kink kit had to provide yet again, so that leather restraints could find a place around her wrists. Mia tested the arrangement once I had secured each cuff to the D-ring on the outside of the corresponding thigh belt. Under continuous wiggling and chaffing she might be able to work herself free. But that outcome was purely hypothetical. In fact, Mia would want to avoid wiggling at all costs.

Her fingers fanned out in a reflex to the intense bite of the clamps. To her credit, she kept her posture as the serrated jaws sunk into her nipples. There was no adjustment involved, only the full force of the springs.

Whilst she was in the midst of coping with this assault, I showed to her the final items I had taken from the collection.She protested behind her gag, not that much of it made it past its strictness.

“Why, certainly.”

Each weight had 200 grammes to its name. One in my left hand and one in my right, I hooked them to the clamps, not yet letting go. Mia held her head tilted back with her eyes closed, breathing in a shallow rhythm. Slowly I lowered my hands, allowing the weights to emerge from my palms. The more load her distressed nipples had to bear, the stronger she bit into her ball gag, until she took the whole heft under a deep groan. I beheld her for a spell. The slight movement in her eyes. Her lips caresing the rubber sphere between them. Mia never looked more beautiful than when opening herself up to pain.

“Shall we?”

She gazed at my weak smile as I pushed the boot lid shut, recognising and dreading the task that lay ahead. I opened the passenger door for her, and after some well-chosen steps she sat herself in a ladylike fashion that reminded her of the intruder inher rear, if it had ever been forgotten. Sensible as always, she wiped off the leaves stuck to her soles with one foot, then the other. Only then she swung both legs closely together into the footwell. The wince that ran through her told me this established procedure went not down as smoothly as it used to.

Since her hands remained indisposed, I was happy to help with her seat belt. I made sure it ran close to body, properly placed between her breasts, before I closed the door and took my seat behind the steering wheel. Mia scrutinised me as I retrieved from the centre console my driving gloves. Although of undeniable use and stylistic value with a car like this, I was donning them also for effect. The creaking of hide, the hint of violence weren’t lost on her.

I turned the key, and the straight-six underneath the bonnet fired up at Once. For the sake of tension I let it idle for a moment and was rewarded. Mia shifted in her leather seat. Metal hooks linked on metal D-rings between her cuffs and tight bondage. I put the car in first gear and, indicating to no-one in particular, pulled back fully onto the road. From here it was about another four kilometres to the cottage, beginning with an almost straight section through gold-green forest. Second gear, then short-shifting into third. I kept the revs well below 2000, and still the long-stroke engine was piped on speed.

The left-right combination before the descent was coming up. Easy on the throttle here, especially since I chose to sway out instead of aiming for the racing line along the apices. Plenty of low-end torque kept pushing as we entered the left bend, broad tyres braced against the increasing g-force. Mia was pressed into the outer bolstering, and the same physical law pulled her nipple weights sideways. A relentless built-up, sleek and Steady as the trajectory the car was following. The road veered to the right in a much tighter radius, demanding a swifter and keener action at the steering wheel. The fierce shift in lateral acceleration translated directly into Mia’s poor breasts. Her ball-muffled squeal, though, might also be elicited by the buckles of her thigh belts which pinched the delicate folds of flesh between them as she was being thrown into the opposite bolstering.

Out of the double bend we sped up, the glorious engine roar echoing from the sloping rock face along this first downhill part. The upcoming left turn allowed for a wide line at first, but turned tricky on the exit. My quickness on the breaks had the desired effect on my indignant passenger. Her nipples stretched out, only to be yanked about as the weights slapped back against her breasts. I heel-and-toed down into second and took this corner far more spiritualized. Again the differences in inertia of the car, Mia and the metal loads clamped to her flesh created a tantalising experience.

The steering woods to either side of the road opened up for a short reach, revealing the spellbinding scEnery of the autumn hills and the river, both blazing in the low sun. A dauntless step onto the pedal let the silver inline engine erupt in intake and exhaust noise. Acceleration was delivered instantly, underlined by a rising mechanical whir as the supercharger powered up. Redline, and up into third again. If Mia attempted to raise objects against my driving style, they were snuffed out by the enginefining sensing of velocity.

Further downhill we rushed, in an angle towards the stream. I placed the car true into the fiendish final left before the narrow bridge to cross the water in an adequate pace. The hollow before the old structure pushed the springs into compression. A deep moan from Mia told me that the impulse went straight up into her plug. The bridge, a rural stone arch, lacked any form of tarmac in favour of weathered slaps of limestone. Smoothing out such a surface was far from anything the tweaked suspension considered its duty. Now Mia yelped in sync with the impacts and the merry dance of the nipple weights. Served her right. Next time she would think twice before shoving something sexy up her bum.

Behind the bridge damp foliage had gathered along the first uphill curve. Its fragile grip level lured the car into oversteer and the inner wheel into a spin ere the limited-slip diff engaged. I caught the rear end, but allowed the tailslide to play out. The manoeuvre provoked a screech from Mia that immediately morphed into distorted giggling. Third gear again, pumping up boost, pouring out grunt. Climbing towards the switchback. I used the leaning elm on the right as mark to time my breaking, going hard on the discs as its branches flew across the roof. My charming victim was all but slammed into the seat belt, with dire ramifications for her buds.

Double de-clutching into second, I throw the nose in towards the apex, much to the distress of the front tyres. The chassis was nearing its limits; twitching the throttle mid-corner would send the car flying. Speaking of distress and limits. Mia was hurled into the side of her seat again, her arm trapped against the door panel, one thigh pressed against the other. The unyielding pull on the clamps made their teeth twist within the tiny puncture wounds they had already inflicted. She was mauling the gag under the sering pain that attacked her so vividly. Her body slumped back as we exited the switchback. She was breathing heavily through flaring nostrils. This last kilometre I used to cool the car down, and with a similar intention I lowered our windows. Mia let her head roll to the side until the air stream caught her hair.

The private driveway leading up to the cottage I negotiated at walking speed. Leaves rustled, their warm scent reached up to us. A discreet side building served as garage, with enough room for two cars plus tools. I backed up into the free spot, put the gearbox in neutral and granted myself a moment to listen to the idling motor and the masochistic moans, not even deciding on which was the sweeter sound. Once that moment was fully enjoyed, I switched the engine off and get out to be of assistance to Mia.

Very gingerly she left her seat, only to stand next to the saloon in a rather dishevelled state. Her hair style had suffered quite a bit, and her chin and chest were glistening with saliva. She wasn’t keeping herself on the balls of her feet anymore, Either. Instead, imploring noises escaped her gagged mouth concerning the endurance clamps. I pondered my course of action, hearing the creaks of cooling metal, feeling the heat that was still radiating from the nearby wheel arch. Wondering who might lick up the wet spot on the passenger seat. Eventually I turned to the second car, neatly stored away. Mia’s eyes grew large with a combination of dread and lust as I lifted a corner of the tailored cover off the track-proven classic speed machine with the air-cooled flat-six in its rear.

The End