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Promises, promises
by lizsubintampa
lizsubintampa@gmail.com | Forum Feedback
© Copyright 2017 - lizsubintampa - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; D/s; stockings; garterbelt; skirt; blouse; heels; date; public; expose; hum; bond; rope; gag; blindfold; tease; cuffs; collar; bdsm; spank; denial; oral; sex; climax; true; cons; X
jpn
Promises, promises lizsubintampa M/f; D/s; stockings; garterbelt; skirt; blouse; heels; date; public; expose; hum; bond; rope; gag; blindfold; tease; cuffs; collar; bdsm; spank; denial; oral; sex; climax; true; cons; X
This is a True Story of my time with Master Chet, it contains bondage, submission and light bdsm - enjoy.

For my 48th birthday I went to dinner with one of my dearest and most trusted friends/Master, Chet, who is 66 years old and loves to keep me tied and wriggling for what seems an eternity as he continually teases me with promises of orgasms that may or not be given to me.

Living in the Tampa, Fl area I rarely wear pantyhose but when I see Chet I must wear stockings and garter belt. I suppose this fetish of his goes back to when he was much younger and many women still wore stockings but it could just as well be something that he became to love over the years for some other reason. Either way I do try to please him and in fact do love wearing them for him (there is also another person I see from time to time that likes stockings too).

Not the model type I am a towering 5’3”, a bit overweight (145 lbs.), and have small breasts (32A-26-36) which may also be considered a (small) blessing as they haven’t yet started to sag. I am quite plain looking and would never be confused with models in magazines or on the internet but I do try to keep myself as fit as possible.

Chet also loves having me wear 3” or higher heels with ankle straps and skirts and blouses or dresses, never jeans or shorts or tees.

For our date this past September I wore black stockings with black lace garters, panties and bra, a fairly loose fitting navy skirt (hemline about 3” above my knees) with a champagne colored satin blouse with front buttons. I’m not much into jewelry but I did wear a pair of gold hoop earrings and gold necklace.

My one glaring feature when I’m “excited” is that my nipples get rather large and hard making it rather easy to see them poking against both my bra and blouse (if the blouse is a bit tight fitting). Depending on circumstances I find it a bit humiliating to be displayed that way in public (and for that matter in private too) but at the same time it makes me feel helplessly exposed and vulnerable resulting in all sorts of feelings running through my body and mind. Often, as my nipples swell, my body seems to have its own plan as I sort of unconsciously wriggle and squirm a little.

Anyway, back to my date with Chet. He picked me up at my house at 8:00 PM and after the obligatory hugs and kisses (which made me “wriggle and squirm”) he drove us to a restaurant in Tampa where we talked for nearly two hours before he decided it was time to leave. Already in quite a state of “wriggling” I would have run to the car if he had let me but once he grabbed my wrist tightly in his hand I had no choice but to follow him to the car. At the car he opened the door for me but before allowing me to get in told me to lift my skirt above my waist so that I would sit on my panties and leave my thighs above my stocking tops exposed. There were no second thoughts if I should do as I was told or not but it did make me very nervous as I kept glancing around the parking lot hoping not to be seen by anyone. By the time I got into the car I had no idea if anyone saw me or not but I was glad to be in the car and felt somewhat safe from prying eyes.

During the half hour drive to his house Chet would reach over every so often and put his hand over my panties and rub my puss until it became very clear that I was wet and when he pushed a couple of fingers inside I could do nothing but squirm and beg him not to stop but of course he stopped and chuckled and chastised me for even suggesting what he should or shouldn’t do and promised that I would be suitably punished. Dejected but very much in need of his touch I tried to contain my feelings but was unable to stop myself from whimpering and pleading (to no avail).

As soon as we pulled into his driveway he had me lean forward (after I unlocked my seat belt of course) and I guess from somewhere next to him he pulled a piece of rope out, told me to put my hands behind my back, and tied my wrists together. Reaching across so he could put his fingers on my nipple he squeezed it through my blouse and bra and it wasn’t long before it was even more swollen than while driving to his house. Chuckling again he took another piece of rope (I started to wonder if he had some sort of hidden rope compartment in the car) and slowly began tying my arms above my elbows so that they were pulled toward each other. I am not able to have my elbows touch but they can be brought (almost) comfortably about 2” apart and tied like that I am not only helpless I feel doubly exposed and vulnerable which he took immediate advantage of by turning me in my seat so I was facing him as he began to play with my breasts. I could not stop myself for wanting more and pushing myself against his hands and although I know better than to ask him not to stop I did do some begging which only made him giggle some more and give me this lustful leer he has when he is toying with me.

When he stopped touching me he unbuttoned my blouse so that it just hung open leaving my breasts covered only by my bra and when he told me it was time to go into the house I was so horny and wet, my nipples were screaming for attention and then, suddenly, when I realized he was out of the car and opening the door for me I practically froze in fear from the possibility of being seen like that. Tied, ass exposed, breasts nearly poking through my bra I had no choice but to “expose” myself when he reached in, took hold of my arm, and pulled me out of the car. Almost too casually he kept his hand on my arm and walked me to front door where he “fumbled” for the house key while I sort of hopped from one foot to the other not believing he was doing that to me.

When he opened the door I didn’t need encouragement to step inside, I practically ran inside and then made the fatal mistake and saying to him “You bastard.”

With his all too familiar wicked smile he “Tsk, Tsk, Tsked” me and, taking hold of my arm led me to his kitchen where he opened a drawer and took out a pair of scissors and a roll of scotch tape. Shivering from excitement, craving and some fear I kept as silent as I could (after I whispered I was sorry) as he grabbed hold of my panties and used the scissors to cut them and pull them off. Smiling that evil grin again he rubbed them along my puss and slowly worked them inside my puss making me take lots of little dance steps trying to keep up with his hand as he led me further down the path of totally desperate need.

Then, pulling them out he leaned forward, kissed me, made me melt like butter, brought my panties up to my nose and made me smell them and feel their wetness, and then told me to open and to encourage me he put his fingers from his other hand on the outside of my cheeks and pressed fairly hard against my cheeks/teeth as I opened my mouth and let him put my balled up panties in my mouth. Telling me to close my lips he took the scotch tape and began wrapping it around my mouth from just below my nose to my chinny chin chin.

I had no idea that scotch tape was so effective and when he pressed against the tape (I have no idea how many feet of the stuff he wrapped around my face) to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere (like there was a chance of that happening) all I could do was “hmmmpphhh” and “moan” and “groan” sort of past the gag but mostly through my nose. I don’t think there was anything intelligible coming out of my mouth other than the useless noises I made.

Again, smiling, Chet told me that now maybe his slut would learn not to call her Master a bastard and with his fingers once again pushing inside my puss he took hold of my arm with that led me, sort of hopping and skipping to his bedroom where he had me stand in the corner with my nose against the wall.

Given the position I was in some nervousness crept inside me. My naked buns waiting for him, my breasts aching, my nipples (oh so) hard, and my mouth filled with my panties now soaked with both my wetness and drool.

Chet walked up behind me after a few minutes and with his hand began to caress my ass and to be honest it felt good to have him touch me even like that and as he felt his way between my legs and ran his fingers along my lips I once again began to try to grind myself on his hand. Of course this was all too good to be true because as I was getting wetter and hotter and groaning more and more he spanked me so hard that if I hadn’t been semi-plastered in the corner I would have lost my balance and fallen. At least four more times he spanked me and each time I jumped and whimpered and tried to beg him to stop. But of course it was a useless thing to do because he started again and kept on and on until I thought my cheeks were on fire and when he did stop I was in pain and trying very hard to keep myself from falling but when put his fingers back inside my puss I almost forgot the pain and tried to squeeze my thighs together so he couldn’t take them out. But, of course, he did take them out and left me a whimpering mess as he told me to stand in the corner until he was ready for me.

So I stood for perhaps five minutes (actually seemed forever) and all I could think about was how much my ass hurt and how much I wanted him to use me, to make me cum. Yes, I know, a lovely word, but “orgasm” just doesn’t seem right when I am so darn needy.

By the way, one thing I should tell you is that my partners (lucky me, I have four that I see as often as I can but not as often as I’d like) do nothing that will cause permanent harm or leave permanent scars, etc. I do have limits and although they have been, shall we say, stretched over the past few years I do have them. So while my ass was burning and I knew I would be tender for a while I also knew that it was within my limits. I am not one for a lot of pain but I do love being spanked as well as some nipple torture (no piercings, etc) because, and I have no exact reason why, when those things are done to me and I have no control it just makes so darn horny I would promise the world if I was given permission to cum or forced to cum. Go figure?

So, after standing there for probably five very very long minutes or so Chet again took my arm and brought me to the side of his bed. Standing behind me he put a leather blindfold on me (it has some soft material that covers my eyes and has a hole so it fits over my nose and when it’s buckled tight I can’t see a darned thing.

Next he helped me kneel and once on my knees he crossed my legs and tied my ankles which made me move my legs so my thighs were pretty well apart.

Without a word he left me like that for another eternity.

Finally he was behind me again and using his hands he played with my breasts and then my nipples and when he pulled my bra down and left my breasts jutting out and exposed and I could only mumble and gasp through my nose and sort of through my mouth he kept playing with my nipples and made me wriggle and cry and there was nothing I could do about it. I just leaned back on my ankles, against him, and loved what he was doing but I also wanted more and he didn’t go any further. Didn’t even touch my tummy let alone my puss. Just teased my nipples making me squirm more and more and scream as loud as I could while trying to call him a few choice words.

Once again he stopped touching me and left me panting but within a very very short time I felt him take my face in his hands as he slowly began to unwrap the tape covering my mouth and it felt so good when he finally pulled my panties out of my mouth that all I could say was “Thank you Master”. I moved my jaw up and down and tried to stop some of the dribble from falling on my breasts but there really wasn’t much I could do about it.

Then, after a fairly quick and disappointing kiss he took my face, pulled me forward, and as I felt his cock touch my lips I knew what I had to do and as he guided it into my mouth I tasted him and felt it go deeper but oh so slowly as he would stop, pull it back a bit, stop, put it back in a bit, and then slowly pick up the pace with his hands guiding me. As he got closer and closer he pulled me further down and though I can usually take “quite a bit” in my mouth he did have to let up when I started to choke a little, but not so much as to take it out of my mouth until he, how shall put it, exploded in my mouth. Keeping it in me, forcing me to swallow as much as I could, then pulling it out and rubbing it on my lips making me clean him. Oh I loved every second.

Leaving me leaning against the bed he left and when he returned he had a glass of water that he put up to my lips so I could have a little bit to drink and then used a damp towel to wipe my face. Leaving the blindfold on he untied my ankles, arms and wrists and helped me to stand. I put my arms over his shoulders and kissed him and held him tight, he then sort of bent a little and picked me up in his arms and put me on the bed telling me not say a word or he would gag me again, I shook my head yes and when he got next to me on the bed I moved so I could cuddle with him.

Telling me he needed to get some sleep (I had no idea that it was already past 2 in the morning) and before I knew what was happening he locked leather wrist cuffs on me, a leather collar on my neck, then (a first time surprise) leather straps around my legs, pulled tight, just above my knees which I found were attached to a short stick that kept me from closing my legs and, finally, he locked my wrists to the neck collar so that my hands were kept at my chin.

The miserable lovable bastard then told me he didn’t want me to get too aroused while he was sleeping and then kissed me and reminded me not to say a word or he would have to gag me again.

Not wanting to be gagged again I quickly nodded yes and as he put one arm under me and brought me close to him I tried to survey my fate. My hands were useless, I could not move my legs together so I could not try to rub myself, I was still boiling from not being allowed to cum, I needed to cum, and I couldn’t cum. How the heck was I going to get any sleep?

Then the nice bastard said “if you need to get up during the night or in the morning before I wake up you may use your mouth to get me up but you may not say a word.”

Several awful minutes went by, I was still horny, I ached to be touched, but all that happened was his low snoring (thank goodness he is not a loud snorer) and my continuing need to cum.

Sometime later in the morning, when I couldn’t hold “it” any longer, and he may have been awake, but since I couldn’t see a thing I am guessing that he was playing with me, as I tried rolling over on my side with my legs open like that. Yes my legs could move forward and back as if I was doing a duck walk (which I eventually had to do) but I couldn’t bring them together so it made it very difficult to get into position and find his cock so I could wake him “up”.

Found one of his nipples first and liked his little “mmmm” sound but achieving nothing more than that I knew I had to work my way down if I was going to be able to get out of bed and go to the bathroom and, can I dare hope, be permitted to finally cum?

By the time I woke him “up” he took hold of my hair and after what seemed a fairly short time (morning madness?) he let me taste and swallow him again. Normally during the week for breakfast I have either cheerios or toasted flakes so this was very definitely tastier with a heck of a lot more protein.

Finally he helped me stand and helped me waddle to the bathroom where he guided me to the toilet and sat me down. Now you would think that after everything we had done so far (and in the past) that it would not bother me to have to do my business in front of him but it did. Must be my puritan upbringing.

So once again I made the mistake of asking him to unlock my hands and to give me some privacy. And, once again, I hear the all too familiar “Tsk, Tsk, Tsk” and he has me open my mouth, puts a cloth in it, and tells me not to let it fall out.

There was no need for the “or else”, I kept it in my mouth and when I was finally done I kept it in my mouth when he had me stand and lean on the vanity so he could wash and wipe my puss and ass. Such a kind and considerate bastard. He even took the cloth out of my mouth and told me to find my way to the kitchen. He actually laughed as I, blind as a bat, waddled with that darn stick between my legs trying to find my way to the kitchen.

As I duck walked to the kitchen I could just see myself in the disheveled state of dress and duress I was in. My blouse was still open leaving my breasts exposed and I even felt my bra was a bit tighter as it was just under my breasts. It seemed my skirt had slit a little below my waist during all the activities I endured but I don’t think it was any lower than (perhaps) my upper thighs. My heels made walking (waddling) much more difficult too and I had to keep trying not to lose my balance. It’s a funny thing how my balance is affected by the blindfold, almost like being a little drunk but, again, not being able to close my legs had a lot to do with it too.

I hadn’t realized he was behind me all the time and when I finally got to the kitchen he put his arms around me, put his hands on my breasts with his fingers tweaking my nipples, and told me how wonderful it was watching my ass jiggle as I walked.

Such kind words for his slave as she vainly tried to “jiggle” against him.

Finally he came in front of me and unlocked my wrists from the collar. Now here is something I found very curious. I’m not sure how long it was before I felt as though I needed to stretch my arms but for the longest time I did and when he finally freed them it felt wonderful to just move my arms and stretch them out. There was no pain but the feeling of needing to that was almost overwhelming. This is the same feelings I have when I have been hogtied for fairly long period time, the need to pull my legs down, to stretch them can be overwhelming at times.

When that awful stick was taken off between my legs that too felt glorious to be able to just stand with my legs together and do a few little quick steps to get my bearings back.

Such kindness, I thought, should be rewarded so I reached out to him and when he touched my hands I moved so I could hug and kiss him. Chet may be a bastard at times but he is a very good bastard and also a very good kisser.

Taking me by my hand he had me step close to the kitchen table and had me lean over it, on my breasts. He pulled my skirt up above my waist and almost immediately began to put his cock in my very very wet puss. His pace was slow at first but seemed to pick up speed rather quickly and I, being nothing more than a wanton sex crazed slut, pushed myself against him and when I started to come he rammed into me faster and harder and although I could not keep up with his pace I felt him fill me and felt it drip down the insides of tops of my thighs and with a very big smile on my face I felt so happy I began to cry.

For the first time since we had been seeing each other Chet genuinely seemed concerned and after bringing me back up off the table he asked if he had hurt me but I just leaned against him and told him it was one of the best f _ _ ks I had ever had and kissed him as deeply as I could. He then undid my blindfold and as soon as I adjusted to the light I hugged him again and wanted to know if I could have dessert. About an hour later, still with my skirt up and my blouse open I found myself kneeling under the table, in front of him, enjoying my dessert while he had coffee and read the paper.

Somewhere around noon I was permitted to shower and after fixing my hair and makeup I got dressed (same skirt, blouse, etc.) and followed him out to the car so he could drive me home. At my house I was disappointed that he couldn’t come in but I knew this before our date. He had a late afternoon flight to catch to Dallas and promised to make it up to me. Promises, promises, but one that I knew he would keep.

I know I wander when I write (actually not too different from when I talk) but I hope you enjoyed my time with Chet. This is a true story and the names have not been changed to protect the guilty.

Hope to waddle or hop or wriggle my way here again.

Liz

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04.12.17

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