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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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"I first posted this story a couple of years ago when I was last on here. It was postedin four parts, but this time I’ve pulled them all together in one post.
This is the story of my first foray into the world of kink and BDSM....
I stood on the pavement in front of the hotel and looked up. I counted up four stories and wondered if one of those windows was yours, or if your room was on the other side of the building. People passed by taking no notice of me, a 36 year old woman standing in the light spilling out from the hotel lobby. I shivered slightly and pulled my coat closer, although it wasn't really very cold.
But I was nervous. Terrified, actually.
You were up there, in one of those rooms, waiting for me. So why was I so scared? There was nothing about myself that I hadn't told you, no fantasy I hadn't shared with you. You knew more about me than anyone in the world, more than any of my ex’s had known. Meeting online and messaging each other. Messages in which you’d slowly drawn from me the secret fantasies I’d never shared with anyone... had tried to deny even to myself. You spun fantasy after fantasy for me as I opened up, using every tidbit that I revealed. I marveled that you could pick up on the most insignificant details that I mentioned without attaching any meaning to them and turn them into a fantasy that had me searching for my vibrator to relieve the ache you awakened deep inside me.
It was your descriptions of dominance and pain that first drew me. You talked about inflicting pain on me, taking me to new levels of pleasure and desire. I realized I had always been aroused by the idea of being restrained during sex, but assumed there was something wrong with it... with me... and so I had always pushed those thoughts away. I was even more shocked to find that I liked it when you talked about spanking me and even more so when you talked about whipping, crops, floggers... even the pictures of them that I found online made me wet. Getting a message from you created a Pavlovian response in me and would start my juices flowing, would start a slow burn in my nether regions and every order you gave me only stoked the fire.
I’d never considered my breasts to be particularly sensitive but to my surprise I discovered that I became highly aroused when you wrote or talked about touching them. We indulged your fantasies about breast play and I had many orgasms to your descriptions of sucking and licking them, of nipple clamps, even (or maybe especially) of you whipping them.
Something else that was a favorite for both of us were the fantasies of tying me to a chair. I don’t know why but the image of myself in a chair, wrists bound behind me, legs spread open, ankles tied to the legs of the chair, was just incredibly arousing and you had a lot of variations on that theme.
So why was I so afraid? Was it because deep down I doubted that I would react in the same way to the reality of bondage and whipping and submission. While the fantasy, coupled with my vibrator brought me unfailingly to orgasm, my fear was that the real thing would simply be uncomfortable and painful... without the arousal.
There was also my body. I was no nubile young thing. I was the wrong side of 30, with a body that had been neglected during my last relationship. Nor was I as limber as I had been 10, even 5 years ago. My breasts, I knew, were neither “sexy” nor “gorgeous" as you described them in your fantasies. I had been reluctant to reveal myself in pictures even more so on video and even more reluctant to meet you in person.
My biggest fear was that you would be so disappointed in the way I looked and the way I reacted that you would end the prospective play relationship completely. I couldn't bear the thought of no more correspondence. I had resisted this meeting for months, until you stopped asking and simply told me one day that you had booked a room. You told me the weekend you would be there, the time you wanted me at the hotel room, even what you wanted me to wear for my arrival and what clothes to bring for the weekend. In spite of my fear, I couldn't refuse you and so had made the trip to Llandudno.
Looking at my watch I realized with a start that if I stood out here much longer I would be late. I picked up my suitcase, took a deep breath and walked through the double doors into the lobby. I glanced regretfully to the left, where the restaurant and bar were situated and wished I’d arrived early enough to stop for a drink to calm the butterflies in my stomach. But it was too late for that and so I turned right to the elevators, my heels clicking on the tiled floor. An elderly couple got on the elevators with me and I smiled at them as they acknowledged me.
The elevator was large, carpeted, and the back wall covered with mirrored panels. It moved smoothly, stopping almost soundlessly at the third floor where the couple disembarked. As it began its ascent to my destination, the fourth floor, I wondered if an elevator ride had ever seemed as long as this one. When it stopped and the doors opened, my heart, already racing, began to thud in my chest and I thought briefly I might pass out. I trembled as I walked down the lushly carpeted hallway, hoping my shaking legs didn't give out. Stopping in front of Room 405, I paused for a moment and then reached out and softly knocked on the door.
The door opened and for the first time I was looking at you. Both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. I knew your red hair, the youthfulness of your face that belied your true age. Your blue eyes that were softer... warmer... in real life than in pictures. You had told me that you weren’t "particularly tall" but even in heels I had to look up at you. Your shoulders were broader than they appeared in pictures, your body trim, athletic. You smiled and it lit up your face and made it difficult for me to catch my breath.
"Mel," you said. "Right on time."
You took my suitcase and stepped back to allow me to enter, putting the case down just inside the door. You helped me off with my coat and took my bag, hanging both on hooks on the wall behind the door. You look at me approvingly.
"You look nice," you say.
“Thank you," I reply softly, looking down and smiling shyly.
You should approve of the way I look, I thought. You had picked out all of my clothing. The white, sheer blouse (almost see through) that buttoned down the front ("your tops should always button or zip or somehow fasten in front... so that I have access to your breasts any time I want"), the black pencil skirt that just skimmed the tops of my knees. My black lace bra hugged my breasts, just covering my nipples, the tops spilling over in a way that made me feel almost as "sexy" as you talked about. The matching garter belt attached to my stockings ("yes, real stockings...never tights!"). The black lace panties, as instructed, were in my suitcase, making me very aware of my shaved labia throughout the entire journey here. The black heels were higher than I normally wore, but I was beginning to get used to them. They weren't especially comfortable to wear, but I had to admit that they did make me feel sexy.
I turned to look at the hotel room and had just registered the chair sitting in the middle of the room, with ropes attached, when your hand on my arm spun me back to face you. I looked up at you, my blue eyes wide, but my gasp was swallowed by your mouth covering mine. Your kiss was soft, exploring, your arms holding me against your body. Shocked at the suddenness, I didn't respond immediately, standing stiffly in your arms, my mouth open but not returning your kiss. One hand moved to tangle in my hair and you began to tease my lips; licking, softly biting. You drew my tongue into your mouth and sucked gently, pushed your tongue into mine. Slowly I relaxed against you and my arms wrapped around your waist. I began to return your kiss, tentatively sucking on your tongue, moaning softly as the kiss deepened, became more demanding. You had told me once that you were good at kissing and now I knew... you weren’t just bragging, you were good... very good! I was breathless by the time you stopped and looked down at my red, swollen lips and half-closed eyes. You rubbed your thumb over my bottom lip, smiling wickedly. You released me and slid your hands down my arms. Still dazed, I didn't react as your hands encircled my wrists and pulled them behind my back, holding both of them in one hand.
"Now," you said, pushing me back against the door, "let's have a look at those tits we've talked so much about."
My eyes flew open as your words sunk in and I looked up at you in alarm.
"Right now? Just like that?" I asked
"Right now," you affirmed, your fingers going to the top button of my blouse.
"And just like this." You slid the button open and moved to the next one, your eyes boring into mine. "What were you expecting? Flowers? Chocolates? A romantic candlelight dinner?" As you talked, your eyes never left mine, slowly opening each button.
"I came here to seduce you, Mel. I came for this."
The last button slid through the hole and your eyes broke contact with mine and moved down, your hand pushing my blouse open. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the door, not wanting to see the disappointment in your face when you finally saw my breasts and realized they were not what you had imagined.
But if you were disappointed, I couldn't hear it in your voice as you whispered,
"Oh fuck yeah... this is what I came for."
I jump slightly and gasp when I feel your face in my cleavage, hear you inhaling my scent.
The hand holding my wrists tightens, warning me to be still, your free hand cupping one of my breasts. You start to lick the flesh above my bra. When the tops of my breasts and my chest to my throat are damp from your saliva, you brush your thumb over my nipple, eliciting another gasp. Then your mouth is there, licking me through the lace, sucking my nipple into your mouth.
"Ohhhh...."
I squirm as the sensation in my nipple shoots straight to my pussy. You move to my other breast, the air against my wet bra making my nipples even harder. How many times in the last few months had I imagined this? Your mouth on my breasts? Never had I imagined it this intense, this incredible. I was wet. I could feel my juices on my thighs and an aching to be touched. But you seem to be in no hurry to get down there. You move back and forth between my breasts, your mouth torturing one nipple whilst your fingers rub and pinch the other. I moan, my eyes closed tightly and try to pull my wrists away. I want to touch you, to caress you, but you hold me firmly. Finally, just when I think I cant take any more, you lift your head and look up at me, your hand still kneading my soft flesh.
"Look at me," you order and I force my eyes open.
“Spread your legs." I swallow at the intensity of your stare, my breasts moving with my gasping breaths. When I don’t move, you pinch my nipple between your thumb and forefinger, increasing the pressure until I groan and move my feet apart.
You smile at me before lowering your head and kissing and licking my sore nipple. You resume your attention to my breasts as your fingers trail down my belly. You reach down and pull my skirt up, slowly sliding it along my thighs. You reach under and touch the inside of my thigh. Your touch is electric. I wiggle my hips, wanting your touch higher... but you take your time. You caress the inside of each thigh, coming close, but not quite touching me where I’m aching. Finally your thumb brushes my outer lips and I push against your hand.
"Please," I beg. "Please, please, please touch me!"
And then you do, slipping your fingers into my folds, spreading my wetness. I groan in relief as you slide a finger into me and then whine when you pull it back out. You continue stroking up and down my slit, along my folds, withholding your touch from my aching and swollen clit. My head rolls back and forth against the door as my whimpers grow louder. I try to move my pussy against your exploring fingers, try to get your touch where I need it most. I can feel your hardness through your pants, your erection hot and hard against my hip. You finally slide your finger back into me, then a second one, and I moan, a deep guttural, animalistic noise that frightens me in its need. I cry out your name when your thumb slides across my clit. You begin pumping your fingers into me, rubbing my sensitive clit with your thumb, still sucking one nipple and then the other.
The intensity of the sensations raging through me are too much and I bite down on your shoulder. In return you bite my nipple, just hard enough to make me cry out again. Then you’re kissing and soothing the same nipple. I can feel my orgasm gathering, think briefly that I should tell you... Sometimes you make me wait for permission to come... was this one of those times? Then it becomes a moot point as my orgasm washes over me in waves. I give a quiet cry and buck against you, shuddering. You slow your attack on my pussy and my tits, letting me ride it out. Just as I think my legs can’t hold me any longer you stand up and pull me against you, releasing my wrists. I wrap my arms around your waist, holding on tightly, my face buried against your chest as I sob with relief. When my shaking subsides to trembling, you kiss the top of my head, stroking my hair. Your hand moves to the back of my head and you gently tug my hair pulling my head back so that I’m looking up at you, my eyes half-closed.
"Excellent," you murmur, softly kissing me.
When I’m able to stand on my own again, you release me and step back. You look me up and down appreciatively. My hair is mussed, my shirt open, my bra wet and askew, exposing my breasts and my skirt rumpled around my waist, my pussy exposed and my thighs glistening with my juices. I’m not sure what to say to you, but you just grin at me for a moment.
"How about a drink," you ask and turn to walk away, leaving me leaning against the door, trying to catch my breath and watching you incredulously.....
I wait for my breathing to return to normal and watch as you efficiently pour the drinks for us. I straighten and pull my blouse together with trembling hands. As I reached for the top button you look over your shoulder and say,
"No, don't... leave it open."
Reluctantly, I let go of the edges of my blouse and reach for the glass you hold out to me. I keep my eyes on my drink, unable to meet your gaze and take a sip.
Now that my climax was over and my heart rate returning to normal, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed by my disheveled, exposed state... yet all the while you remain calm, cool, and completely dressed. Embarrassed by how easily you had turned me into a writhing mass of need.
For the past few weeks I had enjoyed the fantasy of ceding control to you, but now, suddenly faced with the reality, I felt a sense of foreboding... mixed with excitement... knowing that what had just happened was only a taste of what was to come in the future.
You beckon me further into the hotel room. Or suite, I could see now. There was a small kitchen area. A sofa, coffee table, and a wing-back chair in the living room area. A small dining table with two chairs (one of which was now sitting across from the sofa with ropes attached to it) sitting in front of a huge picture window, a set of glass French doors leading out onto a terrace. Through a set of double doors I could see a tastefully furnished bedroom. With a very large bed. Beyond the bed was the bathroom, which I couldn't see much of but it looked to be quite luxurious.
I walk over to you by the window and we stand sipping our drinks and gaze out at the bay. The air feels cool as it hits my bra, wet from your mouth and my breasts are covered with goose bumps, my nipples erect. I watch your profile as you look out the window.
"Nice view," I murmur. You glance down at me and smile.
“Not as nice as those." Gesturing to my erect nipples. I blush and look down.
“Why don't we sit down?" You gesture to the sofa.
I suddenly wish I could go to the bathroom and wipe off the wetness from between my legs, knowing that if I sit down in this condition it would get on my skirt... and probably the sofa. But I suspect you would not allow that; I know that you like for me to walk around with my juices smeared on my pussy and my thighs. The truth is that I enjoy it as well, to pretend it is your cum. I try to arrange my skirt so that none would soak through to the rather expensive-looking sofa. You sit next to me, your left thigh touching my right, your left arm on the back of the sofa behind me, your hand playing with a lock of my hair.
"How was your journey," you ask.
“Not bad," I say, looking up at you curiously. This was the kind of question I had expected when I arrived... before the assault at the door.
I start to relax as we talk about inconsequential things; the weather, your job, my job, Brexit! Out of the corner of my eye, through the bedroom doors, I can see the dresser, on it are items laid out neatly. I can’t see what they are exactly, but I catch flashes of leather and chrome. You notice my gaze wandering in that direction.
“Can I look?” I ask softly.
"Sure. Do you want another drink?"
"No, thank you."
You take our empty glasses to the kitchenette and I walk over to the bedroom, feeling the butterflies begin again in my stomach. My reflection in the mirror seemed to belong to someone else. Alone with a man I had only met in person not even an hour ago, my shirt open, my breasts exposed, wet spots on my skirt. This wasn't me... I was responsible, a manager, respected in my community. I’d only had two sexual partners before joining the online community. How had I come to be in this hotel room with this man?
I stood and looked at your collection. Black leather cuffs and collar... they look expensive and menacing, somehow. You’d told me not to bring any of my toys ("You're going to wear my collar this weekend"). That you would provide everything else we needed. Chrome clips and short chains, varying lengths of rope, nipple clamps connected by a thin silver chain, and the whips. Black leather crop, a flogger... I run my fingers over them lightly, shuddering with an equal mix of anticipation and dread. My eyes meet yours in the mirror as you come to stand behind me.
"Are you ready, hun?"
"I think so" I whisper.
"Take off your top."
Unable to tear my gaze from yours, I shrug and let my blouse slide off my shoulders and down my arms, dropping it on a bit of clear space on the dresser.
“Now the bra."
I blush and look down as I reach behind to unhook my bra, putting it on top of my blouse.
“And the skirt."
My fingers shaking, I unzip the skirt and step out of it, looking at you as my skirt joins the pile on the dresser.
I blush again and drop my gaze, unable to watch you looking at my nude body. Not a slim, tight, young body. While I had lost weight, I was still wobbly, the new gym sessions I’d signed up for not yet toning me the way I’d hoped.
Stepping closer to me, you run your hands over my belly and hips. I can feel your erection hard against my butt. Your hands cup my breasts and squeeze, causing me to gasp. Your attention is riveted on the mirror, watching the way my flesh fills your hands and squeezes through your fingers. Then they skim over my belly to my generous hips and ass (definitely not my favorite parts of my body), to the insides of my thighs. Two of your fingers slide into my folds, still slick with my juices. I moan softly and wiggle my ass against you. You pull your fingers out and bring them up towards my lips.
"No!"
My eyes wide with shock, I grab your wrist.
"Who gave you permission to touch me," You growl in my ear.
We freeze for a moment, eyes locked. Unable to bear your gaze any longer, I close my eyes in defeat. Releasing your wrist I open my mouth and you push your fingers between my lips.
"Suck that, hun. Suck all that juice off my fingers,"
You whisper it softly, your mouth against my ear.
I whimper but do as you ask. It was the first time I had tasted myself and I was surprised that the musky flavor was not as repulsive as I had expected. Soon my whimpers turn to moans of need as I suck on your fingers, my hips beginning to grind in small circles. You pull your fingers from my mouth and I open my eyes, dazed, aware that I was getting wetter but not sure why. You reach across and pick up the black leather wrist cuffs and turn me to face you. I watch you as you fasten the cuffs on my wrists. I can see the desire and excitement on your face, as well as your hard cock pushing against the fabric of your trousers. But you’re controlled, businesslike. You kneel and buckle the cuffs on my ankles. Standing up, you look me over for a moment before turning me around and picking up a chrome clip. You pull my wrists behind me and slide the clip through the rings on the cuffs, binding my arms behind me.
My heart is pounding as you look at me and smile. This is what I had imagined so many times, but this... this was so much more powerful than my imagination could conjure up. There was fear... I was completely at your mercy. You could do anything you wanted to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. But more than fear, there was relief. It was out of my hands now... literally. I didn't have to worry about "performance", you were in control and you’d direct whatever happened.
"Almost perfect," you say.
You pick up the black leather collar and buckle it around my throat, then stand back and look at me. My breasts lift with each shallow breath and my nipples harden. I feel a sudden urge to drop to my knees, to kiss your feet, to beg you to take me, to do whatever you want with me. But instead I stand there... wearing only my garter, stockings and heels... along with your cuffs and collar... waiting for you, for your reaction. You pull me into your arms and kiss my throat along the collar.
"God, hun, you have no idea how fucking hot you look like this," You whisper in my ear, causing shivers to run up and down my spine.
“Do you feel how hard you make me?"
You rub your cock against me and I moan, a low guttural sound.
“It makes me so crazy to see you like this. I want to just throw you on that bed and fuck you."
You lift my face and kiss me, hard and deep, stamping your brand on me with your lips and your tongue. Your hands pull me tight against your hard body and I can feel the muscles of your chest and thighs beneath your clothes, the buttons on your shirt and the zip on your trousers bite into my soft skin, making me groan. One of your hands goes to my hair, holding my head immobile as you continue to devour my mouth. Your other hand slides down my back and over the skin of my buttocks. One finger threatens to slide between my cheeks and I jerk and squeal in protest. I feel you smile against my mouth as you withdraw your finger. I push myself against you and hungrily return your kiss. Finally you pull away and hold me away from you. I’m flushed and panting.
"Yeah... I want to fuck you. But we have some business first."
You hold my face between your hands and look into my eyes.
“Do you know your safe word, Mel?"
"Yes”
"Say it."
"R..red."
You nod.
“Don't say it again unless you really want me to stop. Understand?"
"I understand,"
"And if you can't talk?"
I swallow hard at that. If I couldn't talk?!
"I make three sounds."
"OK, then let's get started."
I wait for my breathing to return to normal and watched you efficiently pouring the drinks for us. I straighten and pull my blouse together with trembling hands. As I reached for the top button You look over your shoulder and say,
"No, don't... leave it open."
Reluctantly, I let go of the edges of my blouse and reach for the glass you hold out to me. I keep my eyes on my drink, unable to meet your gaze, and take a sip.
Now that my climax was over and my heart rate returning to normal, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed by my disheveled, exposed state... yet all the while you remain calm, cool, and completely dressed. Embarrassed by how easily you had turned me into a writhing mass of need. For the past few weeks I had enjoyed the fantasy of ceding control to you, but now, suddenly faced with the reality, I felt a sense of foreboding... mixed with excitement... knowing that what had just happened was only a taste of what was to come in the future.
You beckon me further into the hotel room. Or suite, I could see now. There was a small kitchen area. A sofa, coffee table, and a wing-back chair in the living room area. A small dining table with two chairs (one of which was now sitting across from the sofa with ropes attached to it) sitting in front of a huge picture window, a set of glass French doors leading out onto a terrace. Through a set of double doors I could see a tastefully furnished bedroom. With a very large bed. Beyond the bed was the bathroom, which I couldn't see much of but it looked to be quite luxurious.
I walk over to you by the window and we stand sipping our drinks and gaze out at the bay. The air feels cool as it hits my bra, wet from your mouth and my breasts are covered with goose bumps, my nipples erect. I watch your profile as you look out the window.
"Nice view," I murmur. You glance down at me and smile.
“Not as nice as those." Gesturing to my erect nipples. I blush and look down.
“Why don't we sit down?" You gesture to the sofa.
I suddenly wish I could go to the bathroom and wipe off the wetness from between my legs, knowing that if I sit down in this condition it would get on my skirt... and probably the sofa. But I suspect you would not allow that; I know that you like for me to walk around with my juices smeared on my pussy and my thighs. The truth is that I enjoy it as well, to pretend it is your cum. I try to arrange my skirt so that none would soak through to the rather expensive-looking sofa. You sit next to me, your left thigh touching my right, your left arm on the back of the sofa behind me, your hand playing with a lock of my hair.
"How was your journey," you ask.
“Not bad," I say, looking up at you curiously. This was the kind of question I had expected when I arrived... before the assault at the door.
I start to relax as we talk about inconsequential things; the weather, your job, my job, Brexit! Out of the corner of my eye, through the bedroom doors, I can see the dresser, on it are items laid out neatly. I can’t see what they are exactly, but I catch flashes of leather and chrome. You notice my gaze wandering in that direction.
“Can I look?” I ask softly.
"Sure. Do you want another drink?"
"No, thank you."
You take our empty glasses to the kitchenette and I walk over to the bedroom, feeling the butterflies begin again in my stomach. My reflection in the mirror seemed to belong to someone else. Alone with a man I had only met in person not even an hour ago, my shirt open, my breasts exposed, wet spots on my skirt. This wasn't me... I was responsible, a manager, respected in my community. I’d only had 2 sexual partners before fab and only met 1 man since joining 6 months ago. How had I come to be in this hotel room with this man?
I stood and looked at your collection. Black leather cuffs and collar... they look expensive and menacing, somehow. You’d told me not to bring any of my toys ("You're going to wear my collar this weekend"). That you would provide everything else we needed. Chrome clips and short chains, varying lengths of rope, nipple clamps connected by a thin silver chain, and the whips. Black leather crop, a flogger... I run my fingers over them lightly, shuddering with an equal mix of anticipation and dread. My eyes meet yours in the mirror as you come to stand behind me.
"Are you ready, hun?"
"I think so," I whisper.
"Take off your top."
Unable to tear my gaze from yours, I shrug and let my blouse slide off my shoulders and down my arms, dropping it on a bit of clear space on the dresser.
“Now the bra."
I blush and look down as I reach behind to unhook my bra, putting it on top of my blouse.
“And the skirt."
My fingers shaking, I unzip the skirt and step out of it, looking at you as my skirt joins the pile on the dresser.
I blush again and drop my gaze, unable to watch you looking at my nude body. Not a slim, tight, young body. While I had lost weight, I was still wobbly, the new gym sessions I’d signed up for not yet toning me the way I’d hoped.
Stepping closer to me, you run your hands over my belly and hips. I can feel your erection hard against my butt. Your hands cup my breasts and squeeze, causing me to gasp. Your attention is riveted on the mirror, watching the way my flesh fills your hands and squeezes through your fingers. Then they skim over my belly to my generous hips and ass (definitely not my favorite parts of my body), to the insides of my thighs. Two of your fingers slide into my folds, still slick with my juices. I moan softly and wiggle my butt against you. You pull your fingers out and bring them up towards my lips.
"No!"
My eyes wide with shock, I grab your wrist.
"Who gave you permission to touch me," You growl in my ear.
We freeze for a moment, eyes locked. Unable to bear your gaze any longer, I close my eyes in defeat. Releasing your wrist I open my mouth and you push your fingers between my lips.
"Suck that, hun. Suck all that juice off my fingers,"
You whisper it softly, your mouth against my ear.
I whimper but do as you ask. It was the first time I had tasted myself and I was surprised that the musky flavor was not as repulsive as I had expected. Soon my whimpers turn to moans of need as I suck on your fingers, my hips beginning to grind in small circles. You pull your fingers from my mouth and I open my eyes, dazed, aware that I was getting wetter but not sure why. You reach across and pick up the black leather wrist cuffs and turn me to face you. I watch you as you fasten the cuffs on my wrists. I can see the desire and excitement on your face, as well as your hard cock pushing against the fabric of your trousers. But you’re controlled, businesslike. You kneel and buckle the cuffs on my ankles. Standing up, you look me over for a moment before turning me around and picking up a chrome clip. You pull my wrists behind me and slide the clip through the rings on the cuffs, binding my arms behind me.
My heart is pounding as you look at me and smile. This is what I had imagined so many times, but this... this was so much more powerful than my imagination could conjure up. There was fear... I was completely at your mercy. You could do anything you wanted to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. But more than fear, there was relief. It was out of my hands now... literally. I didn't have to worry about "performance", you were in control and you’d direct whatever happened.
"Almost perfect," you say.
You pick up the black leather collar and buckle it around my throat, then stand back and look at me. My breasts lift with each shallow breath and my nipples harden. I feel a sudden urge to drop to my knees, to kiss your feet, to beg you to take me, to do whatever you want with me. But instead I stand there... wearing only my garter, stockings and heels... along with your cuffs and collar... waiting for you, for your reaction. You pull me into your arms and kiss my throat along the collar.
"God, hun, you have no idea how fucking hot you look like this," You whisper in my ear, causing shivers to run up and down my spine.
“Do you feel how hard you make me?"
You rub your cock against me and I moan, a low guttural sound.
“It makes me so crazy to see you like this. I want to just throw you on that bed and fuck you."
You lift my face and kiss me, hard and deep, stamping your brand on me with your lips and your tongue. Your hands pull me tight against your hard body and I can feel the muscles of your chest and thighs beneath your clothes, the buttons on your shirt and the zip on your trousers bite into my soft skin, making me groan. One of your hands goes to my hair, holding my head immobile as you continue to devour my mouth. Your other hand slides down my back and over the skin of my buttocks. One finger threatens to slide between my cheeks and I jerk and squeal in protest. I feel you smile against my mouth as you withdraw your finger. I push myself against you and hungrily return your kiss. Finally you pull away and hold me away from you. I’m flushed and panting.
"Yeah...I want to fuck you. But we have some business first."
You hold my face between your hands and look into my eyes.
“Do you know your safe word, Bex?"
"Yes”
"Say it."
"R..red."
You nod.
“Don't say it again unless you really want me to stop. Understand?"
"I understand,"
"And if you can't talk?"
I swallow hard at that. If I couldn't talk?!
"I make three sounds."
"OK, then let's get started."
You take my arm and lead me back into the living room, to the chair that was sitting across from the sofa. You guide me into it, my bound arms behind the back. Using the ropes you already had on the chair, you tie one around my waist, slide the rope through the rings on my ankle cuffs, binding them to the legs of the chair. You take a length of rope and thread it between my elbows, pulling my arms back and causing my breasts to thrust out even more. You walk around the chair, looking me over and then move over to the dresser and pick up the crop. My breath catches in my throat when you lay the crop on the coffee table. Leaning down, you catch my face between your hands. I open my mouth for a kiss, but you don’t kiss me right away. You lick and bite my lips until I’m frantic for your kiss. Only then do you cover my lips with yours and thrust your tongue into my mouth.
I moan into your mouth. And suddenly I’m very aware of just how restrained I am. I can’t touch you, can’t lean into you, can’t thrust my hips against you. I kiss you feverishly, trying to show you how much I want you, its the only way left to me. You kneel in front of me, kissing, licking and nipping my throat and chest. You lick each of my breasts, staying away from the aching nipples until I’m wiggling as much as the rope around my waist will allow, begging you. Finally, you suck a nipple into your mouth and graze it with your teeth and I feel an electric shock in my clit. You move back and forth between my nipples, my moans and gasps growing louder.
You leave my aching breasts and begin licking and biting across my belly to my thighs, then continuing along the inside of each thigh. You lick my smooth mons and my outer lips. I throw my head back and try to raise my hips wanting your tongue inside me. You use two fingers to open me and lick along my folds. Just when I feel I can’t take anymore you push your tongue inside me and suck my clit between your lips and lash it with your tongue.
"Oh, oh, ohhhhh, oh god!”
You slide two fingers into me and begin to pump, still sucking and licking my clit. When my thighs begin to tremble and I start to pant softly, you pull away, eliciting a whine of protest from my lips. You stand up and look down at me, I look up at you flushed and gasping for breath. My eyes follow your hand as you reach down and pick up the crop. I jump as you trace it lightly along my jaw, then down to my chest, around each breast, over each nipple, across my belly, up the inside of each thigh... everywhere the crop lightly slides across my skin it leaves a trail of goose bumps. My head lolls back, my eyes closed, I’m panting softly. You push the crop against my lips.
"Lick it," you order.
I open my eyes and lift my head, looking at you questioningly. You brush the crop across my lips.
“Lick it,” you say again.
I open my mouth, my tongue darts out and I lick the leather tentatively, then again and again. You push it into my mouth and my eyes look at you in alarm.
"Suck it, Mel. Pretend it's my cock and show me how you’ll suck me."
I swallow nervously and begin to suck hesitantly. I close my eyes and do as you say... I pretend its your cock. I had done it so many times with my vibrator at home while fantasizing alone. I sigh and suck harder, licking along the shaft and moaning softly. Im so into the fantasy of sucking you that you have to tug on the crop to pull it from my mouth. I open my eyes and watch you looking at the crop, the leather dark with my saliva. My eyes move down to your crotch, the bulge in your pants seems even bigger.
"You really are a slut, aren't you, Mel?"
I look back up at your face and realize you had been watching me. My face reddens and I drop my gaze to the floor, shaking my head in denial.
"N..no," I whisper.
“No?” You growl.
You grab a handful of hair and pull my head back so that I’m looking up at you. Theres nothing soft or warm about your eyes now. Even as my eyes widen in fear, I feel my nipples harden and my cunt clench with desire.
“Look at you. Tied up, sucking on a piece of leather because your Master told you to. Are you telling me you don't like this, Mel?"
"No..I...I..."
"No... you aren't telling me that. Because you do like it... you love it. You're so fucking wet already and you're hoping, just hoping, that I'm going to whip you with this crop, aren't you?"
I don’t answer, can’t answer... I just stare up at you. You kiss me, making me groan with the force of your excitement. I close my eyes and kiss you back hungrily. Without breaking the kiss, you bring the crop down on the top of my right breast... just a light slap. I jump and squeal, sucking on your tongue frantically. You continue to kiss me as you slap my breasts with the crop, the tops, sides, undersides. My moaning is constant, feverishly biting your lips and sucking on your tongue.
You pull away from my mouth, still slapping the crop on my breasts. I close my eyes and lean my head back as you whip my breasts and nipples, gradually hitting them harder and harder as my pain level grows with my excitement. Never in my life can I remember wanting a man's mouth on my tits as much as I want yours.
"Please, please, please...." I groan, unable to verbalize coherently what I want.
Suddenly the whipping stops. I open my eyes and see you lie the crop on the coffee table. You open your belt and zipper. My eyes grow wide as you pull out your cock... angry and red, its head glistening with precum. I lick my lips and groan as you begin to slide your hand up and down its length.
"You want that, hun?"
Your free hand caresses my face and then moves down and squeezes one of my reddened breasts.
"Oh God James... please," I whisper.
"You want it, don't you? You want this big cock in your little whore mouth, don't you? But you don't get it... not yet. Not until I say."
I groan in frustration as you continue moving your hand up and down your shaft. You take a step towards me and run the head across my lips, my tongue flicks out reaching for you but I’m too late. I lick your precum off my lips and pull against the restraints on my wrists, but they hold fast. Gripping my head with both hands you lean into me and push your cock against my lips. At last! I open my mouth with a groan and suck you in gratefully. You hold my head still and thrust into my mouth over and over. I gag slightly when the head hits the back of my throat, but I keep sucking, humming softly with pleasure.
"Gaahhd...."
Your voice is hoarse with arousal.
“Oh, you gorgeous bitch!"
I’m not aware that you had released my head with one hand until I suddenly feel the crop slapping the insides of my thighs. I yelp around your cock as the next blow lands on my wet pussy. Moaning and sucking as you whip me, the crop splashing in my juices. When you begin to hit my swollen and tender clit over and over I feel my orgasm building and know I’m going to come any second. I can’t suck fast enough and my saliva and your precum drip from my mouth, down my chin, and onto my beaten breasts. Then I can’t suck at all as I chase the orgasm I can feel just beyond my reach. Panting softly, I simply hold my mouth open as your cock slides in and out.
You pull out of my mouth and throw the crop down. Reaching down and grabbing my hair in both your hands you kiss me brutally, until I cannot breathe and am struggling to pull away. You let go of my hair and with shaking hands untie the ropes binding me to the chair. You grab one arm and pull me roughly from the chair. My legs buckle, unable to hold me up.
"James! Please...p..please!"
Half dragging me, you pull me quickly to the bed and push me down. Straddling my chest, you grab my wrists and clip them one at a time to a strap extending from the corner of the mattress. I hadn't noticed them before, but you must have attached the under bed restraints before I arrived. Staring down at me, you began to unbutton your shirt. I lick my lips as you pull off your shirt to reveal the hair-dusted muscles of your chest. Getting up from the bed, you quickly shed shoes, socks, and then pants and boxers. I groan at the sight of you, your erect cock standing up against your belly, watch you pull a condom from the bedside table.
With your cock sheathed in latex, you kneel between my legs and grip my butt, pulling me up to you. You slide the head of your cock along my inner lips and I whimper, writhing and trying to bring you to where I need you.
You rub against my clit and I plead incoherently. Finally you push the head against my slit and I groan with relief as I feel you sliding inside, opening me, stretching me. As soon as you’re embedded as far as you can go, you stop moving and look at me. I look up at you uncomprehendingly and wiggle my hips, trying to make you fuck me. But you don’t move.
"Are you my slut, Mel?” You ask quietly.
"Ohhh.... James... Please!"
"Are you my slut?"
When I don’t answer, you run your thumb over my belly towards my pussy, until you touch my clit. I thrash and cry out as you rub it in little circles.
"James... Pleeease!"
"I asked you a question... are you my slut?"
"Yes! Yes! Now please, please, please....."
“Say it... say you’re my slut.”
You continue to rub my clit, waiting.
“I am... I’m your slut James”
“And who does this cunt belong to Mel?”
Still using your thumb to circle my clit, while lazily pulling out and thrusting back into me. My eyes roll back.
"You!"
"Who do you belong to Mel?"
"You! I belong to you! James... Please!"
You hook your elbows under my knees, planting your hands on the bed next to my shoulders and begin to thrust harder, faster. I cry out with relief and then gasp and moan when you lean down and suck a nipple into your mouth. You release my breast and cover my mouth with yours as you slam into me. You kiss me hard and deep and I can’t breathe, your tongue thrusting into my mouth with the same savagery that your cock is thrusting into my pussy. I growl into your mouth, animalistic and guttural. Suddenly you pull away, throw your head back, eyes closed. Your cock grows impossibly hard and pulses with your orgasm. I look up at you and think I have never seen anything more beautiful than your face above me as you cum with a hoarse shout. It was that, even more than the sensations in my cunt, that push me over the edge and I cry out your name as I cum, a great surge of pleasure sweeping over me.
You continue thrusting and I lose track of time as wave after wave rock me. You finally begin to slow, as does my shuddering. I feel your cock shrink and fall out of me. You release my legs and collapse on top of me, kissing my face. After catching your breath for a moment, you reach over and unclip my wrists, and dispose of the condom in the small bin next to the bed. Wrapping your arms around me, you roll onto your side, pulling me close. I can feel your breath on the top of my head as I snuggle against you, nuzzling and kissing your chest. You tilt my head back so that you can see my face and kiss me gently on the the tip of my nose, resting your forehead against mine.
"Fuck, hun."
"I know," I say with a sigh.
Wrapped around one another, limbs entangled, we let our heart rates return to normal. Dozing with post-coital exhaustion.
My goodness. What fantastic words. The description of every detail, from the lighting of the lobby to the carpet of the 4th floor. I found myself aching for the next sentence and the next step of the journey. I leave wanting the experience. I leave knowing the capabilities of a tension built meet. The build up over time, over messages, over pictures... picking up every detail to ensure the meet matches. Loved it.
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