“Can I buy you another?” He asked me. It was the third line he spoke to me since sitting uninvited in the corner booth I was seated. Had it have been his opener I would’ve told him to take a hike, but it was not.
“Stand up.” I gave as my reply. His head fell a bit as he slid from the thickly padded vinyl covered seat.
“I’m sorry I bothered you. At least you didn’t slap me.” Said the man who appeared to be about six-foot-two and a build that matched his height.
“I said stand, not leave. I should do both with an opening line you offered, but, it also intrigued me.” I told him. “Strawberry margarita. I hope the bartender can make that better than my last two drinks. Yes, you may join me.” I said as he gazed at me seeming puzzled.
“Thank you; I sure will.” He said reseating himself then raising his arm to catch the attention of a server.
“I take it you haven’t had too many hits, other than open-handedly across your cheek, with this current pick-up line?” I asked.
“None. And yes, I have been slapped more than a few times when I used it.” He responded.
“It is a bit crude and assuming.” I paused. “And, to me, amusing and interesting. What was it… My cock, your pussy, what a wonderful combination?!” I said and repeated his opener.
“Word for word. Good memory. By the way, my name’s Thom.” He said, offering his hand over the table.
“Thank you. Mandy.” I shook the hand on the end of the arm not straight up in the air, waiting to be noticed by a server.
“Gin and tonic for me and a strawberry margarita for the lady please. Tell the bartender to make it his best please.” Thom said to server who finally acknowledged his request for service.
“You better check yourself before you wreck yourself Thomas… ” I started in reference to his opening line “… you may be biting off more than you can chew.” I finished.
“Oh really?!” Thom replied lifting one eyebrow as he looked at me.
“I can be a bit of a vixen among other things.” I teased.
“And that should worry me because… ?” He replied. Again emanating an air of cockiness.
I reached in my purse and pulled out a pair of tactical-black handcuffs and slid them across the table to him.
“Put ‘em on.” I said returning his cockiness.
Thom looked at the hinge-connected hoops of steel which stopped sliding inches from his interlaced-fingered hands queerly.
“Huuhh?” Came his reply.
“You heard me… put ‘em on.” I said a little more demanding than last time.
“Do you have the key?” He asked.
“That’s not your concern.” I said smartly.
“It is once they’re on my wrists.” He rebutted almost sounding scared.
The server brought our drinks, looking oddly at what she noticed sitting where she begun to set Thom’s drink. She looked me in the eyes as she set my drink in front of me, back at Thom, shrugged her shoulders and picked up the cash Thom placed on the table for the drinks and tip, then moved on to the next patron requesting her attention.
“What matters is just how much of a wonderful combination there is.” Was my reply to his concern about a key.
He took a sip of his cocktail and looked back down at the cuffs awaiting his attention.
“Those are real Mandy. Once on, no off without the key.” He said with a slight crack to his voice.
“I know that… ” I said sounding somewhat condescending, “… and the ankle set is still in my purse. Put the handcuffs on if you wish to continue… if not… thank you for the drink.” I finished with a demand now. “Like I said, a vixen among other things.”
I could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as his eyes glanced several times between me and the matte finished steel on the table before him.
“What happens if I put these on?” He asked, stopping his gaze on the cuffs and not at me.
“Hmmm.” Was all I replied and caressed my upper chest with a finger.
“In front or behind?” He asked as one hesitant finger run across the steel forming one side of the pair.
“I’m not holding your drink up for you to finish.” I replied sarcastically.
Thom gave me one final glance, not only my face and eyes mind you, before metal-against-wood made its muffled clinking sound. “Key holes up please.” I said as he picked them up and looked closer at them. Insuring the notched circle opening faced his forearm, the first cuff ratcheted around his wrist. The other cuff emitted its rapid-fire clicking and Thom’s wrists were held only inches apart and unable to twist.
“Good. It seems we may test the theory of your initial proposition after all. Sip your drink Thom. We may have another before blowing this dive.” I said, then “What’s your cock thinking of this Thomas?”
“I’m guessing it’s not arguing at the moment. Trying to check out the situation a bit actually.” He said, a slight blush of red on his cheeks leaving me a bit surprised considering his hopeful ice-breaking first contact.
“Figured as much. Honestly… ” I said, then, leaning closer over the table between us, “… I leaked a little when the cuffs closed.” I admitted to the first man to not run at being asked to cuff themselves as a requirement to leave the bar as one.
We finished our drinks and ordered another; talking, not of what was to come, but, of what has been. We got to know each other and before long Thom had seemed to forget he was handcuffed at all. He seemed as natural in the quite restrictive cuffs as a cowboy on his horse. We talked like old friends as we walked from the booth in the farthest corner from the door, a few other patrons catching a glimpse of Thom’s shackled wrist, but, much fewer than had they been nickel finished.
“Okay Mandy… how am I supposed to drive like this?” He asked holding the steel binds up in front of him.
“You’re not… silver Mazda.” I replied as the lights flashed on my car when I pushed the fobs unlock button.
“My car!” He said.
“Will be fine until tomorrow.” I said and followed him to the passenger side of my car.
“You worried about nothin’” Holding up the key to the cuffs to show him. “Hands.”
Thom held his hands up to me. I removed one cuff. “Turn around.”
“You’re cuffing me in the back?” He asked.
“And shackling your ankles.” I giggled.
After reattaching the cuff I removed in order to put his arms behind him, I double-locked the handcuffs and secured his ankles in steel as well. I turned him back around. His face fell ghost white as he realized I stared unzipping his pants.
“Whaa… ?” He tried to begin.
“Shhh.” I hushed.
He was a rock as I slid my hand through his fly and snaked it through the opening in his underwear. I worked his member out through the holes I worked my hand into only moments before. I lowered myself in a wide spread squat and lightly kissed the now throbbing glans tipping his slightly larger than average cock. I took the tip in my mouth and tongued around the opening centered in his circumcised man-hood. His moans begun in a trice. One deep thrust of my mouth burying his endowment as far as his pants would allow and I pulled back slowly, increasing the suction as I did. Deeper moans escaping his lips. I gave the head a sucking pop as I removed my mouth from him and stood up.
“I’d say that’s enough PDA for now… wouldn’t you? No need for those cuffs to be out of my control by the police.” I said and helped Thom into my car as a cop does into theirs.
I fastened his seatbelt, making sure to brush his still liberated cock with my forearm as I did. I closed his door, walked to my own and slid in; ensuring my skirt rose high enough to reveal that my panties had actually been left at home. Thom had not missed my Paris Hilton impersonation.
“Nice Beaver.” Thom complimented.
Unable to help myself, I offered a close, but not exact, recital of Pricilla Presley’s line in Police Squad to the same comment; “Thanks, I need to get it stuffed.” And laughed loudly.
I guessed Thom had never seen the movie as the comment seemed to garner no real reaction other than being puzzled at my reaction to my own comment.
“I’ll try not to get pulled over and have to explain a handcuffed and shackled man with his prick sticking through his fly to the police.” I laughed out again, the thought having must’ve just crossed Thom’s mind causing him to pale then blush as quickly as an octopus or cuddle-fish changing their chromatophores. I pulled out a leather blindfold and fastened it over Thom’s eyes.
“Hey!” Thom shouted. “What the fu… ” He started to ask as I cut him off.
“Privacy Thom. If things work out we may get together again. But, for now, you don’t need to know where I live.” I stated.
“Why am I cuffed up in your car Mandy?” Thom asked as I executed a cautious left turn from the packed parking lot of the bar and onto the busy four-lane fronting it.
“I told you. I’m playful and adventurous with a little fetish desire mixed in.” I answered.
“No. Why am I in your car period? It’s apparent by your lack of womanly covering you planned for something to happen tonight but, why I out of a bar packed with other guys?” He asked and commented.
“Oh… you mean this?” I asked, lifting my soft and subtle black lamb-skin mid-thigh skirt; once again revealing myself; bare of cloth or pubic covering. “I’m not a slut or anything of the sort but I rarely wear panties in a bar or anywhere else.” I informed. “As for the why, if it hadn’t been for your unique opener I would have told you to take a hike. It, and your bluntness, intrigued me. It left no room for misconstrued intent of expectations and I had to see just how ballsy a man willing to use it actually was.” I explained.
“I meant no disrespect by your lack of panties… I find it extremely hot and sexy as I’m sure any man interested in women would.” He said apologetically.
“No offense taken. I did, however, want to set the record straight that I dress like this more-often-than-not and regularly leave alone.” I replied.
I navigated my Mazda through the streets separating my house from the bar, cautiously, aware that the six ounces of spirits I ingested may slightly hamper my reflexes though I was sure the time-span of consumption had allowed adequate time for my liver to metabolize the alcohol and I was under the legal limit to drive. The rest of the drive went pretty much in silence and I could tell my passenger was still somewhat tense about the odd situation and his obvious vulnerability.
I pulled into the drive of my house, parked the car and shut off the engine; releasing the buckle of Thom’s and my own seatbelts after removing the keys from the ignition. I exited my car and walked around and opened the passenger-side door; Thom’s hands being much too restricted to perform the procedure himself.
“Get out.” I said as I reached for his arm to help.
“Like this!?” He asked, motioning with his head down at his now semi-flaccid cock and balls, still open to the elements or gazes of others through his open zipper.
“Thom. I tongued and engulfed your member next to a busy four-lane road with far more gazing eyes than there are here. Get out of the car.” I said with a light-hearted giggle, pointing out how publicly-open to being caught in the act of lude and lascivious conduct we actually were.
He let me assist him in gaining his feet and walked to front entrance to my home; the connected links between his ankles tinkling merrily upon the concrete drive in the night’s quietness of the almost late hour.
I led Thom to my living room where I once again withdrew the keys to his restraints. I removed the blindfold and his restraints.
“Would you like a drink? Sorry, I can’t stomach gin but I have a very nice bottle of cognac which I only open upon very special occasions. Tonight just may qualify.” I asked as I invited him to relax on the davenport or a recliner.
“Why’d you cuff me for the ride and remove them here? And yes, I would love a few sips of cognac thank you.” He asked and accepted.
“I had to test how open and receptive you really were to my desires for bondage. What level of trust you were willing to give. You could’ve refused at anytime you know?” I said informingly.
“What, and miss out on fine cognac?” He said smiling.
I returned his smile and backed the wet-bar in my living room, pouring a hundred and fifty dollars of caramel-colored liquid into each glass.
“You are the first guy-friend I have offered this to.” I said handing him his glass and sat across from him, quite un-ladylike considering my immodest attire one might add.
“Someone with your looks should have no problem luring guys Mandy.” Thom avowed.
“You’d be surprised.” I countered.
“Why’s that?” He asked seeming somewhat shocked.
“Most excuse themselves quite quickly when I slide the cuffs toward them, not to be seen again.” I admitted. “It’s my first test.”
“Test of what? Willingness for bondage?” He questioned.
“Bondage is not only about a fetish form of sex for me Thom. It establishes a level of trust which I believe essential before pressing the sheets with someone. If a man is unwilling to trust me enough to offer himself defenseless to me, I won’t lower my defenses to him.” I explained.
“If I am not being to presumptuous or prying to ask, how many men have you caught with your wiles before tonight?” Thom asked somewhat bashfully.
“One.” I admitted.
“Where is he now?” Thom asked.
“He Ran for the hills when I went to move the cuffs from the front to the back. Lost a pair of cuffs in the mix I might add.” I replied laughingly.
“He literally ran?” Thom laughed and casually sipped from his glass.
“Like a bat out of hell. Never gave me a chance to remove the other cuff. Poof. He was gone.” I confirmed barely able to prevent myself from an all out chortle.
“How many women has received your not-so-subtle opener may I ask?” I queried.
“One.” He retorted as I had to his inquiry.
“And how’d that go? Where is she?” I riposte.
“I’ll tell you in the morning, but it looks good so far.” He responded, stealing Tom Cruise’s quip from Top Gun.
“I’ll be a proper hostess and ask you if you would like a refresher, but, in all honesty I am horny as shit and need to have an itch scratched.” I offered.
“I’ll be your huckleberry.” Thom offering yet another movie line. This time being Tom Cruise’s competitor in Top Gun in the role of Doc Holliday in Tombstone.
“Do you always speak in movie quotes Thom? I asked.
“Only when a bit drunk actually. Sorry, if it bothers you I’ll stop.” He said apologetically.
“Just wondering… and it doesn’t. Have a quarter?” I said then asked.
“Yep. Not much good for a phone call these days though.” He said as he reached into his pocket eyeing me questioningly. I took the quarter he offered.
“Heads or tails.” I offered.
“For what?” He asked.
“Loser gets tied first.” I answered.
“I get to tie you up too?!” He asked thoroughly surprised.
“You took the ride and offered your trust to me. It’s not all about me and I must reciprocate with my trust to you.” Giving him a response to the affirmative.
“This night just keep getting better at each turn. Tails.” He responded with excitement.
I flipped the silver circle of metal into the air and allowed it to land on the carpet where we could both verify its inanimate decision. The coin landed with its obverse pointing downward.
“Best two out of three?” I joked.
“Huh.” Thom released questioningly.
“Just kidding. I lost the toss; you get to use me first. Let’s go to my game room.” I said taking him by the hand. “By the way, why’d you put away Mr. Lovejoy?” I asked.
“Force of habit I guess.” He said when as he accepted mine.
I led Thom out the back door of my abode and toward a bungalow in the rear yard of the house. Unlocking and opening the door to the small outbuilding, I reached in and turn the lights on then raised their adjustable level to full intensity. I led Thom into the, much more spacious looking on the inside than from the outside, room.
“It used to be a pool changing room but the previous owner had the pool filled in for some stupid reason. So I converted the place into my own personal… uh… dungeon so to speak.” I explained before he could ask about the buildings purpose.
“I see.” He said gazing around the room at the several pieces of ‘special-use’ furniture I used to equip the room with.
“The dresser over there contains the necessary bindings and toys to make each piece fully functional. Not to be a spoil-sport or anything; but, I have each drawer in some semblance of organization, so please try to return them from the place you got them.” I remarked.
“Yes ma’am.” He said as he walked between different items of differing positional restraint and level of discomfort.
“I’m going to empty my bladder while I still have the chance. Feel free to look around and check things out. If you have questions about the furniture and its use or the toys in the drawers, feel free to ask.
I left to do my thing and him to do his. I relieved my bladder then relieved my body of its coverings. When I re-entered the room, my reaction time had returned just enough to catch the head-harness ball-gag combo he had tossed to me.
“Really? And I hoped so much to use my tongue a little more.” I said using my best feminine wile voice.
“Yes, really, but first… ” He said holding up a pair of clover clamps with a look of ‘what are these’ on his face.
“Are you serious? Boy you are a bondage-naïve individual, aren’t you?” I said somewhat mockingly.
“Other than silk scarves and neck-ties with an early girl-friend, yes I am.” He said with a smile.
“Self-tightening clamps. Used on nipples or… lower. The more you pull on those rings once they are on, the tighter they clamp to prevent slipping or being pulled off. Moderate to quite painful.” I explained. “I have some with a permanent chain attached between them as well.” I added.
“And this?” He asked opening a silver aluminum case he placed on the dresser.
“It’s for a little more advanced play. It’s called a Violet Wand. Those attachments you see are glass so be careful with them please.” I cautioned.
“Too advanced for tonight? Thom asked.
“There is nothing in this room that I will consider to be off-limits Thomas. However, some can be a little dangerous if used improperly. If you don’t ask while I can still answer, please use some form of discretion before using them if you are not sure of how to use it.” I said as I removed the base of the Violet Wand and attached the large globe accessory to it. I plugged it in and brought it to life with the flip of the switch. The attachment lit up in a soft purple glow.
“There is a dial on the bottom… ” I showed him the upturned base “… that adjusts the intensity level. Also, the smaller the area of glass next to the skin, the sharper the pain the shock will deliver. The glass does not need to touch the skin; only be close enough for the arc to jump the space between.” I taught him.
“Try me.” Thom said holding out his arm.
He jerked his arm away as the miniature bolt of electricity from the globe jumped to his arm.
“Owe… interesting.” He said. “Do you like it?” He asked.
“Of course that depends on the size of the tip, the intensity level, and the location it is used. But in the bondage and domination world it is not always about what you like Thom. It also depends upon the sadism of the person playing the Top.” I responded.
“The Top?” He inquired.
“The dominant person. The person doing the restraining and in charge of the one known as the bottom. Roles, remember, that will reverse at some point… and… what’s good for the goose is good for the gander Sir.” Explaining the roles and dropping a small word of warning to him. “The biggest thing to remember when Topping someone is to monitor them. Though you are in control of the Bottom, the Bottom is in control of the scenario. If it gets to be too painful or fearful, the Bottom can use their ‘safe-word’ to stop the play and be checked on. Trust, Thom, is the most important thing when you render yourself to the control of another. Break the trust and play ends forever. Understand?!”
“Turn that off and put on the gag.” He demanded jumping head-long into the role of Master.
“No so fast sir. First; I stand for no bodily excretions during my play. As I do swallow, that does not include cum. I also swallow tongue so that doesn’t include saliva. But anything else is strictly prohibited. Second; if you hear me begin to hum the Star-Spangled Banner… everything ceases immediately. If I am not gagged I will say the title. This is my safe-word should the bottom feel unsafe or in too much pain. Under absolutely no circumstances will this be ignored anymore than a girl refusing normal sex with the word ‘no’. The utterance of the safe-word is the line between consensual and non-consensual play. Are you clear on that?!” I explained my few rules and asked with the last exertion of authority I expect to have for the next while to come.
“I understand and concur whole-heartedly.” He assured.
“I’m not kidding and take safe-play very seriously Thom. In the bdsm world, we have a creed; Safe, Sane, Consensual. No matter how deeply in the role or how much you want to finish what you are doing everything ceases immediately upon the first sign of the safe-word being uttered. It is why it is so obscure to sexual activity. No ‘well I thought… ’.” I reiterated.
“Believe me Mandy. I want this night to be fun and memorable… and… hopefully not our last. I will not do anything to cause you to no longer offer me your trust.” Thom said and I knew from the tone of his voice he was being nothing but sincere.
I inserted the ball in my mouth without a further word to show, both, that I believed him and to follow his earlier demand as his subservient. As I buckled the straps about my head Thom stripped himself of clothing. His prick once again standing at full attention.
When I finished with the buckles of the harness, Thom spun me around and checked their snugness for himself. Satisfied I had tightened them sufficiently he pulled my back towards his front, his cock following the cleave of my ass towards its curvature towards my upper thighs. He reached his hands around me; one heading north, the other head south.
His left hand fondled first my left nipple; rubbing, rolling, gently pinching and twisting it then moving on to my right with the same attention. His right hand, however, settled to my now over-eager pussy. He softly circled my clit with his fingers and wasted no time in inserting his middle finger into my very wet depth. My whole body twitched at the touch and attention my wet pussy received. Thom continued his play of my sexes as he guided me towards the wooden-pony setting in the open. The feeling of his wiggling middle finger in my pussy and his index quickly rubbing my magic button made walking difficult.
Thom lined me up to the pony and gently bent me over it, laying my torso along the length of its back. He left me lie there as he fetched what he needed from the dresser. He set one leather restraint and padlock next to my right wrist and wasted no time encircling my left in leather. He buckled the cuff and locked it to the furthest ring my arm would reach. He followed the same procedure with my right wrist then moved to my ankles, securing them to the pony’s hind legs. He buckled a belt around mine and the pony’s waists tightly, ensuring I would not move my body around much. Much to my surprise, Thom also buckled my thighs to the upper legs of the pony. I thought about how quick of a learner he just might be or how many bondage videos he may have watched.
Much to my chagrin, he added a set of connected nipple clips to my ever-sensitive nubs. The chain fit around the top beam my body was held upon, but just. Much movement of my upper torso caused the chain to pull and tighten the clamps pinching my nib-lets. A very quick learner I though again.
The lights of the room dimmed to a lux which made the room more dark than light. I felt a sensuously-light brushing of several straps of leather on my unprotect-able ass. At first the leather thongs tickled my rear and were erratic in their placement. Soon the whip began to land with more precision and intensity. Five minutes later and I had no choice but to whimper against my gag at the sharp sting of my ass and the pull upon my nipples each back-arching smack cause. Thom was issuing me a near expert thrashing upon my openly exposed ass and upper thighs.
It wasn’t until my thrashing ceased that I could center my thoughts upon the lightly tickling trail of my lubricating excretions trickling down my inner thighs from the home base of my pussy. The not-overly-severe but quite well-defined skin-stinging sensation of a near perfect flogging set my secretion producing endorphins into over-drive. Therefore, when Thom placed the tip of his manhood against the opening of my womanhood, there was hardly the least bit of resistance when he pressed forward and slipped inside me.
I may have had to give some instruction in the world of bdsm but he and his cock had pounding a pussy down pat. I felt his length and girth invade every millimeter of my vaginal canal as he worked his thrusting hips from side-to-side, top-to-bottom. My heart skipped several beats as he found a spot I had only heard of men being capable of finding. Thom must’ve read my reaction too and; like an artillery battery closing their shells closer upon the enemy with each progressive shot; he moved and focused his cock until he landed every thrust upon richly sensitive G-spot I had always believed to be almost mythical. Shudders of what felt to be electricity surged throughout my entire body each time his glans slid across the magical spot.
Each feeling of pseudo-electrical impulses I felt from his well-aimed thrusts was like a kick-start to my climax. My ecstasy engine came closer and closer to catching and firing with each progressive thrust. My body felt nothing; no restraints, no pressure of the almost too narrow beam my body lay upon, no pinch or tug upon my nipples; nothing but the wonderful sensation Thom was subjecting upon me and the exotic climb through ecstasy to climax to explosive orgasmic contraction and pulsation.
Thom, however, did not quite see things my way. Almost without missing a beat, he withdrew his wonderful feeling cock and just at the time he would have given me another delightful thrust, I felt his warm cum cover my ass and lower back. I screamed my frustration of his stopping only seconds too soon in to my gag and fought roughly against my restraints. Thom laughed an evil chortle.
“I hoped I didn’t miss time that.” He said only somewhat winded and a bit too gay-fully.
The buds topping my breasts began to feel how much I pulled against them as Thom worked me as I could feel how tight the clamps pinched. The embers of the still present sting from flogging I received reigniting as he laid two quick and none-too-subtle bare-handed slaps upon my derriere, re-serving one slap for each cheek.
I continued to scream an almost-crying fit into the rubber entrenching my mouth and struggled defiantly, though ineffectually, against the leather imprisoning my wrists, ankles, thighs, and waist.
“God-damned-it! I needed to cum worse than he did.” I swore to myself as I exerted every bit of strength I had against my fettering and silencing.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” He asked in a pure smart-assed tone.
“What next?” He inquired out loud but clearly to himself.
Thom removed the clamps from my nipples either unknowing of, or, fully aware of; the pain their abrupt removal would cause. I screamed and bucked wildly at each of their removal; wishing my hands was free to help massage the blood back into them. Thom did release my hands only to relock them behind my back before liberating the rest of my body.
He backed me against the south wall and I could only wonder what he had planned next in that evil little mind of his. I knew what was up against this wall, but, as it was almost an undetectable form of restraint to even the most discerning bdsm enthusiasts, I figured he could have no idea of what the beams mounted to the wall could be for. I was most regrettably mistaken.
He lifted my body and allowed the rear half of my butt to rest upon a small but sturdy wood shelf. Thom bent me over, while still holding me up on the jutting wood, far enough for me to smell my sex on his still quite stiff staff. He released my wrist-cuffs from the other and stretch my arms along the horizontal beam mounted to the wall. He locked my wrists to the beam; holding my arms stretched as wide as they could reach and level with my shoulders. He attached the belt he had put around my waist on the pony back around my waist and to the vertical beam behind me. My arms above and below the elbows were tightly strapped to the beam holding my arms outward, removing almost all movement I had in my splayed upper limbs. Straps above and below my breasts completed the restriction of movement upon my torso.
“Now what will he do?” I questioned myself believing he must be as far along as he could possibly understand this device. Alas, and much to my chagrin, I was wrong again.
Thom removed two coils of rope from my rope-drawer and unwound them. He doubled the lengths in half and cinch-looped one section to each ankle-cuff. He lifted and rested my right leg upon his left shoulder as he fed the two loose ends of the thick and durable cord through the eyebolt eight-inches past my left hand. He cursorily hitched the rope and moved on to my right leg as I quietly cursed that he somehow knew what he was doing.
“Have I been fucking duped here or what?” I wondered to myself as he continued his work at my eventual exceptionally wide spread position.
He worked each leg ever farther spread and back towards the wall until my toes touched the wall. Two more tanned and dried and dyed straps of cowhide gird my mid-thigh to the wall and I was stricken with steadfast restriction of movement and splayed as widespread as my body would allow. Thom even found the barber-chair style pump to adjust the bondee (me) to the height of the bonder (him) for perfect alignment.
I knew the device and the position it was designed to hold someone in. I had thought of it as looking like the torso made a ‘t’ cradled inside of the ‘V’ made by my legs. My pussy was as spread and open as a woman could possibly be and vulnerable to any use imaginable.
Thom slid his erect member up and down the slit of my vulva from my clit down to my taint; the head only slightly parting my labia as he used his cock to spread my juices through its journey. The soft caress of the smooth skin of his glans over and between my lips made me horny beyond belief. I wanted him to impale me deeply since I was there for his taking and utterly unable to prevent his use.
After being thoroughly fucked while on the horse and denied my lust-filled release, I needed him to do me and finish me now. But, Thom just kept tormenting my splayed womanhood and teasing my clit each time his cock reached the top of my slit.
Thom let his manhood drop away from my slicked and silky love-brim and collected the clovers he had used on my nipples before. He pulled another set out of the drawer where I kept them. My nipples were still slightly tender from the pinching of the clamps and the tugging that I gave them and spoke about it when he reattached the clamps upon them. I started to protest as much as my silenced maw would allow and shook my head from side to side once it donned on me what he had planned for the other ends. The clamp at the other end of each chain, now leading from each tit-topper, was quickly pinching its corresponding labia. He pulled at the middle of each chain making the clamps squeeze their jaws tighter and elongating my nips and lips.
Thom tied a piece of string to the middle of each chain, threaded the line through a ring on the belts around my thighs, then tied the end of the string to my great toes after stretching my feet flat. Now, if I curled my feet and toes, I pulled the chain and pained their connected targets.
He grabbed one of my canes and started lightly tapping it against the sensitive skin of my inner and under thighs. After about five soft smacks he would land a sharp one, making me bark a yelp of pain. He moved from one leg to the other. After about five minutes of caning my legs, Thom moved to the soles of my feet. He used the same process upon the bottoms of my feet and I couldn’t resist curling my feet on each harder strike; pulling tight on the chains in the process.
The pain was not so great as to block out sensuality and I became ever more aroused and needed to cum ever-so badly. After about another five minutes of tormenting me with the cane, Thom set it down and re-centered himself to me. He slowly spread my lips with his cock and slipped easily inside of me. With each thrust; slow at first but gaining speed with regularity; I could feel the tug of clamps on the delicate folds of skin bracketing him.
Once Thom settled into a good stride he started tugging on the strings between the chains and my toes. Not hard, but enough for me to know he was doing it. However, with each bump of his pelvis against mine smashed the lower clamps between us.
Thom maintained a perfect timing and it was not long before I was moaning deep and regular and building quite quickly to sexual culmination. This time he did not stop. Instead, as he could tell I was getting closer, he started applying steady pressure to the string and when my body erupted in waves of ecstasy, he pulled tight on the strings and held himself buried as deeply inside of me as his cock could reach. I was unable to tell if I had multiple orgasms or one extremely long one; but, whichever it was, I was lost in bliss for what seemed to be an eternity. He popped his seed towards the end of my orgasm and while still pressed hard against and deep inside of me.
Thom released my spent, but recovering, body from my restraints.
Once I was completely free of bindings and toys, Thom knelt in front of me and bowed his head in a gesture that, now, he was mine. An offering I was happy to accept.
I had him interlace his fingers with his hands behind his back and halved one of the ropes he used to truss my legs high and wide. I made a cinch loop and tightened it around his wrists and looped the rope around until there were only several inches left. The loops went about halfway up his forearms to his elbows and started pulling his arms straight out behind him. After tying off the ends, I grabbed a longer coil of rope and a fresh gag from the dresser. Thom did not seem to care much for the gag; a penis-gag; but allowed me to insert it despite his puppy-eyed plea of humiliation.
Once I had the gag deeply buckled I returned to binding his arms. Once I finished his arms were basically in a rope arm-binder which continued from his wrists to mid-bicep and looped around his shoulders, pulling them back and expanding his chest. With how much his eyes widened and his muffled voice complained; Thom must not have known just how much bite the clovers exerted within their jaws.
I pulled out a set of handcuffs which had the chain removed and was two separate cuffs. I locked both of them tightly around his cock and balls; one with the swivel at the top, the other down. I looped a length of string through the swivel at the top and tied it to the chain between the nipple clamps until it lifted his collective up slightly. Another string was attached to the other cuff, ran between his legs, and was tied off to the rope around his wrists. His arms were tied tightly against his ass via the cuff around his package. If he tried to lift his arms away, the string pulled on his cock and balls, thus, pulling the string tied to the nipple clamps.
Thom’s cock was very stiff and sticking out. I smacked it several times to take some life out of it until it was only half interested. I took a roll of thin nylon string and tied on intricate pattern of small diamond-shapes along the length of his shaft. I tied it tight and the skin bulged within the patterns. The head was covered by a criss-cross lattice of string.
I then tied a ball-stretcher out of the string until there was about a three-inch looping of twine between the top of his scrotum and the bulbous shape of his crunched testicles. As I worked with his balls, taking time to softly caress the tender skin on the underside of them. His cock began to find out the ruthlessness of the string tied around it as it reacted to my touch; the skin turning a deep hue of purple and the thin string cutting painfully into the sensitive derma.
I led Thom to the bed and made him lay on his back. I pulled out more lengths of white cotton sashes and bound his legs. I tied a length around his ankles in a rope-cuff then used longer pieces to form a rope sheath up his legs until they were completely covered up to just above his mid-thighs. I made him inch-worm himself until he was centered on the queen-sized bed.
Using the ropes around his shoulders, I tied the top of his body to the head of the bed. Another segment bound his legs to the foot of the bed. He could not move himself on the bed nor his arms or legs due to the numerous loops wrapping them into single units.
I went back to my dresser and pulled out a large fishing line swivel; the kind used for large game fish. I opened the clip side and run it through a hole drilled at the end of the 52” solid mounted ceiling fan above the bed. I tied a piece of nylon string to the string covering the head of his cock. Disconnecting the string tying his nipples to the cuff around his package, I tied the line running from his cock-tie to the piece coming from the nipple chain. Adding another piece, I tied the strings coming from his body to the swivel attached to the fan blade. I turned the fan with my hand to make sure I hadn’t connected it too tightly and assure the motor should turn it.
As the fan turned the blade would pull on his prick or his nipples; each tugged when the fan made a 180 degree revolution. I turned the fan on low.
The string tied in a diamond net on his cock would slide the skin of his shaft up and return down as the string loosened; somewhat stroking him on each rotation of the fan. When it wasn’t pulling on his member, it tugged fairly tightly on his nipples. Thom winced as the fan played with him about four times per second. His cock became quite rigid and purple from the constant fast pulling.
“You better concentrate on the yanking of your prick. You will not be done until you cum.” I told him. I could tell he wasn’t quite fond of the idea of a ceiling fan jerking him off. I watched with amusement. I have used the fan setup to torment my nipples and clit before and found it to be what I call ‘sensually-aggravating’. I wasn’t exactly sure how well it would work on a prick but the string seemed to be sliding his skin a couple of inches on each pull.
I propped his head up with a pillow and climbed onto his upper chest; careful not to catch the nipple clamps as I did; and straddled him with my pussy only a few inches from his face.
I slicked some of my flowing juices onto my fingers and used the slickness to work my clit. Starting slowly, I rubbed myself in front of his face. I hoped my pussy wafted my smell to his nose as I worked myself quickly into a lustful frenzy. Thom’s face showing each tug the fan issued and a frustration at not being able to use his mouth upon the sweetness so close to his filled mouth.
My orgasm released in spasms and I held it out as long as I could; a second and a third overtaking me before the first ever had a chance to fully subside. I slid my crotch up and rubbed my female ejaculate liberally over his face and got off of him.
The string upon his dick was cutting deep as his erection was at its zenith. As the string pulled on him I settled myself upon him and started licking and sucking his balls. They too were a dark shade of reddish-purple. I took the roundness of his bound testicles into my mouth completely and used my tongue upon them fervently. Sucking and tonguing him made his body quiver several times.
About five minutes of oral work on his sperm factory and I could tell he was getting close to reaching his apex and meeting my requirements for stopping the fan. I moved myself to his prick and slowly tongued the bulges of his head coming through the tight bind of it. My tongue working his glans was the last push he needed and his semen soon squirted upon my face.
I turned off the fan and removed the strings tying him to it. I used a pair of safety scissors to cut the string off of his soon shrinking penis. When the string was off I engulfed his manhood with my mouth and worked on him hard. His cock must’ve realized it could get hard without pain once again as it quickly grew inside my mouth and tickled my uvula.
Thom dry cum while I worked my lips up and down his shaft and run my tongue around his head. I continued to suck on him as his orgasm waned. He tried to pull his prick out and away from my incessant oral caresses but had no way to free himself from me. I knew the tip of his cock was now overly sensitive and I kept on even as his erection softened. He moaned and chirped as I continued. I wanted him to know what it felt like when some man continued on a woman’s clit after she had had several orgasms and the touches and workings became too much on over-stimulated sexual nerve endings.
I continued slurping and wet caressing his cock for about ten minutes and could tell he was being driven crazy. With one last slip up his almost flaccid member; creating as hard of a vacuum as my mouth would allow; I elongated him and when his head left my puckered mouth, it did with a loud pop.
I removed the clamps from his nipples and snuggled in next to him. He began to try to say something through his phallus-filled mouth but I ignored him and soon fell asleep.
I woke with my arm around Thom still bound in the center of the bed. I slept very well having orgasms from someone other than my own experienced fingers. I needed to have a bdsm partner whom was trustworthy. Thom proved himself to me. He struggled under me as I run my fingers through the hair covering his chest.
I removed the dildo gag filling and silencing his mouth and untied him. Ropes strewed upon the floor next to the bed we laid and cuddled, softly rubbing and stroking each other. It wasn’t long before Thom was holding my legs over my head and his cock slid in and out of my quite receptive and reactive pussy. I reached climax twice before he reached his own.
“Well?” I breathed between recuperative breaths as we lay facing each other.
“Wow!” Thom breathed as he caught his own breath. “Last night was great! I didn’t get much sleep being bound so uncomfortably, but, I believe I have found a new world of sexual desire.” He admitted with a smile reaching from ear to ear.
We enjoyed a shower and coffee after retreating to the main house, clothes in hand.
Heading towards the main entry Thom inquired about having to be cuffed and blinded on the way back to his car.
“Do you want to be?” I asked.
“I just figured you would like me to be so I wouldn’t know where you lived is all.” He said sounding slightly morose.
“How could you be here next Friday at 7 pm and ready for a full weekend of fun if you didn’t know how to get here. I want you to pay full attention on how to get here.” I said closing in on him and lifting myself on my tip-toes to give his lips a soft kiss. “That’s if you want some more of my world.” I added.
“I’ll be here with bells on.” He replied.
I drove him back to his car. I can’t wait for Friday.
The End… ElectroPainLover
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