Beth had left the man bound and hooded, feeding him air through a narrow tube, for half an hour now. Glancing at the clock, she saw his session had overrun by five minutes, and expertly began to release him.
The strange thing about this client was he never wanted to climax during their sessions. As a result, Beth always felt a little disconcerted by the end. She tried to hide it, of course – it wouldn’t do for one of the most popular dominatrices in the club she worked for to be seen to be uncertain. But there it was again: as he stood up, rubbed his wrists and reached for his clothes, there was a moment of connection between them when he caught her eye and seemed to reach her soul.
‘Same time next week?’ said Beth, tidying up her equipment, shaking off the strange sensation.
‘Look forward to it,’ he replied, and took his leave.
Beth had been working at the club for a couple of years before she met him – Joe. She’d never thought she could ever make her living doing this kind of thing, but that was before the very forward-thinking proprietor of the club had hired her for more than she was making as a trainee solicitor. She hadn’t looked back since. She’d acquired a devoted following of clients, both male and female, and a write-up in several magazines – even a glossy Sunday supplement. She was famous for, and particularly proud of, her ropework, which she could use to suspend the most well-built men from the ceiling without harming them. Thankfully, her boss allowed her to exercise a certain discrimination when it came to choosing her clients, and with people queuing up for her services, she’d been able to select only those she really wanted to work with – not the fat, sweaty businessmen in town for a conference, and not the women with self-esteem problems (those she referred to a psychiatrist).
Joe, when he’d walked into the club, had been exactly her kind of client. Tall, dark and handsome with a healthy wallet and brainpower to match. At the new client interview (no one was ever taken on without an interview – this was an up-market establishment), he’d proved he was witty, relatively sane, and altogether Beth’s idea of an ideal man. When he said he was looking for a dominatrix, she’d signed him up on the spot.
But, after six months of regular sessions, Beth really didn’t think she’d got to grips with him at all. It infuriated her that she couldn’t find the switches to flip him over into true submission, and it disconcerted her that he always looked as if he knew what she was thinking.
After Joe left each week, Beth had taken to booking sessions with a sweet young woman called Mary whose reactions Beth could play like a fiddle. It gave a little boost to her professional pride. This week, as Mary squirmed on the floor, wrapped up in duct tape with a large enema bag emptying into her, Beth reckoned Mary had Joe to thank for getting such an energetic session out of her each week.
As promised, Joe returned the week after and greeted Beth casually. All of her other clients spoke nervously, or at least stood respectfully with their heads bowed. Joe slung his coat over a chair, gave her a cheery hello, and waited expectantly.
Suddenly angry, Beth determined that he was not going to enjoy this session. If he wasn’t here to have his limits pushed, then he could stop wasting her time.
She always wore her full leather catsuit whenever Joe was coming, together with her most pointy stiletto boots. It gave her a sense of protection. Today, she also donned a pair of gloves and a half mask that she'd recently bought from a visit to Sax Leather, that covered the top of her face. Hair flowing, she picked up her whip and ordered him to strip.
He took off his clothes quickly, but before he could turn and look at her with that nonchalant expression again, Beth snapped a pair of handcuffs round his wrists, locking his arms behind him. She swiftly attached a rope to the chain between the cuffs, one that ran up to a pulley system on the ceiling, and pulled so that he had to bend over at 90 degrees, his arms pulled up painfully behind him. He brought his legs together to ease the pressure on his arms, and Beth secured them in place with a stiff leather strap.
He grunted, and Beth had the satisfaction of seeing him less than comfortable – she hoped mentally as well as physically. Feeling sadistic, she pushed a metal spreader gag between his teeth and opened it to its fullest extent. She swung two heavy clamps from his nipples, worked a fat butt plug into him with little mercy, and then snapped a tight rubber ring round the base of his erect cock, making it throb painfully. It wasn’t an elegant or subtle arrangement, but she’d had enough of trying to be elegant or subtle. He had it coming.
She pulled up a chair, sat down, and crossed her legs. Turning his head, he could see her pick up the newspaper, open it to the cryptic crossword, and began.
After ten minutes, she deigned to explain. ‘As you don’t seem capable of the proper respect for me, or value my work, I don’t think I can be bothered with you. You can stay there till your time is up.’
As the minutes ticked on, Beth waited for signs of distress. If she could break him, she’d release him and give him a little pleasurable teasing. He was, after all, paying for this. But no… he wasn’t struggling, or shouting to be released. Nor was he hanging loosely in defeat. He just stood there.
Angry with him and herself, Beth released him five minutes before the end of the session.
‘Why do you come here?’ she found herself asking, as he dressed and she sat on her chair, swinging her foot.
He gave her a cryptic smile. ‘You really want to know?’ he replied.
‘Yes, I do. I mean, you don’t seem to get anything out of it. You’re making me look bad.’ Beth removed her mask and looked him in the eye. She’d never talked so openly to a client before.
He shrugged. ‘OK, I’ll tell you, but I doubt you’ll understand. I come here because understanding girlfriends are few and far between, but paying a woman to submit to you is entirely pointless. See you next week.’ And he left.
What was that supposed to mean? Confused, Beth sat silently for several minutes, trying to figure it out, but didn’t get very far. He was clearly going to keep coming to see her, toying with her professional pride. She supposed she’d have to let him go, or he would torment her forever.
*********
The next week, Beth made a fatal mistake. She hesitated.
She really didn’t know what to do with Joe. Everything she tried didn’t work. She longed to see him kneel before her and worship her, but the longer he held out, the more her confidence was draining away – and into him.
She’d dressed as usual in her leather catsuit, which zipped up the front. She’d let her dark hair flow loose, but left off the mask. In the minimalist, bright room where she plied her trade, she reached for Joe’s wrist to cuff it and hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Joe caught her eye and moved his hand, capturing hers. He held her gently, but the power shift was enormous. How dare a client of hers have the temerity to touch her? But Beth didn’t react. She froze. Slowly, he took the handcuffs from her grasp, and moved away.
Trembling inside, Beth stood still and glared as she felt the sands of power shifting beneath her. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ she half whispered, half shouted. Standing a few feet away from her, Joe ran the metal bracelets through his fingers.
‘An experiment,’ he replied, keeping calmly amused eyes on hers. In two strides, he was beside her, but she held her ground.
‘Put those down,’ she ordered, but she knew she’d lost him. A chill settled in her stomach.
She could leave any time. The door was easily reachable. There was also a panic button just feet away from her. But she didn’t move as he locked the first cuff round her left wrist. She watched dumbly, as if seeing the action from afar, and shivered. The cold metal seared her skin and her psyche.
Standing in front of her, so close she could smell him, he reached his arms behind her back and brought her own arms together, locking her right wrist into the second cuff. These were her own handcuffs, designed to withstand any attempts at escape. The only key hung on a hook on the far side of the room.
Swallowing hard, Beth raised her eyes and looked up at his face. Even in heels, she stood several inches shorter than him. He had an unreadable expression on his face –the kind of expression she’d always tried to cultivate.
‘What does it feel like?’ he whispered, his breath brushing her face. Silently, Beth tested the cuffs and found herself, for only the second time in her life, securely chained.
‘Let me go,’ she murmured.
Joe slowly shook his head, then bent down and kissed her.
Beth didn’t react – didn’t respond, didn’t pull away. He kissed her motionless lips for several seconds, then raised his head again.
Beth couldn’t take his gaze any more. Head swimming from the kiss, she did what she had never done in her life: she looked away. Lowering her head, she murmured again, ‘Let me go.’ Her voice had a low insistence, but one that Joe overrode.
In her line of vision she could see Joe’s hand move to her chest. With one finger in the zip of her catsuit, he lowered the zip tooth by tooth till her breasts were exposed, continuing till it passed her navel and ended right between her legs.
Heart racing, Beth gasped and even felt dizzy as he tore away her defences, metal tooth by metal tooth. She saw her pale skin exposed inch by inch, her breasts swelling naked from the confines of the suit, nipples engorged; her waist; her navel; the tip of the dark patch of trimmed hair between her legs. Hands bunched into fists, wrists straining against the cuffs that held her, she could only watch.
Joe kissed her again, and this time she gave a slight moan, responding infinitesimally, unconsciously. As he kissed her, he slipped a finger into her catsuit and found her clitoris which, she discovered, was fat and soaking wet. Circling it oh so gently, softly kissing her lips, in a couple of minutes Joe brought Beth to a quick, urgent orgasm. Crying out quietly into the kiss, Beth leaned into him as she came.
He’d unlocked the cuffs before she realised it, and was half way towards the door before she’d zipped up the catsuit and turned to him.
‘Same time next week?’ he said, and waved goodbye.
Beth sat down heavily on the floor, and put her head in her hands.
********
Beth’s boss, Jack, had only one rule. It was that all his staff had to experience what it was like to be on the receiving end, at least once, before he let them loose on the clients.
When she’d first joined, she’d sneered at this strange piece of psychology, and went confidently into the playroom with Jack to be bound for the first time in her life. She didn’t think there was any point to it.
What a lot she’d learned.
Jack had first stripped her of her smart clothes, and dressed her in a purple sequinned bra and knicker set that had seen better days. Then he’d painted her face in gaudy colours, pushed her feet into stilettos, and led her by the hand into a second room. As she’d caught sight of herself in the mirror, her self-image came crashing down, and she followed him slightly more nervously than before.
He’d made her play at being a seedy sex club hostess, one that probably earned no more than a few Eastern European units of currency a week. In her shabby finery, she was made to serve him drinks, while he groped her freely. Anger swelled up inside her, but she bit her tongue as she knew she had to get through this test to be employed by him as a dominatrix.
Then he bound her hands behind her, and tied her ankles together as well. She flinched at the unknown sensation of the knots tightening, feeling as if she was teetering on the brink of a precipice. He pushed her to her knees and she fell vertiginously down, struggling without much effort as he very loosely hogtied her, a long length of rope between her wrists and ankles enabling her to kneel upright. Then he presented his cock to her mouth.
If she’d had the use of her hands, she would have walked out then and there. But the sensation of being bound for the first time, combined with the imaginative trip he’d taken her on, mixed potently in her mind and in a haze, she’d complied. Feeling his cock at the back of her throat made her feel good. When he pulled away before she could finish him off, she’d felt desolate.
He bent her over till she was curled up over her knees, head down, and placed a drink on her back. Then, drawing up a chair next to her, he read the paper as he casually slid his finger in and out of her pussy from behind, pushing aside the gaudy purple thong. Before long, she was humming with preorgasmic fire, her mind somewhere deep in his world.
Of course, he stopped before she could come, and as he moved to leave Beth rolled over onto her side, still caught in her loose hogtie and unable to sit upright.
She didn’t recognise the words as hers, but she knew they came from deep within her.
‘Don’t leave,’ she cried out plaintively, and she knew at that moment he’d hooked her.
Jack paused in his journey to the door, and turned around.
‘You’re hired,’ he said with a grin, then got down on the floor beside her and fucked her till she could come no more.
***********
The next time Joe walked into her playroom, Beth was ready for him. She’d spent all week asserting herself on her other clients (receiving a fair few large tips in the process). Now, dressed in a silk shirt and black skirt – the catsuit reminded her of too much – she greeted him with a flash of teeth and was gratified to see him look surprised.
As he stepped into the room, she pushed the door closed and went straight for his legs. She’d been a willing pupil at the club’s free judo lessons for its staff, just in case the worst happened during a session, and now she gladly put the lessons into action. Knocking his feet from under him, with the momentum of surprise she was soon sitting astride him, as he lay face down, two arms twisted behind his back, her knees digging into the backs of his.
‘That,’ she whispered in his ear, ‘was for last week.’
Breathing hard, she held him for a moment till she felt his muscles relax, and then began to think about loosening her grip and backing away. It was enough. He sensed her intention, and before she even knew what was happening he’d flipped her from his back and was rolling on top of her as she fought him with flailing limbs, all judo moves out of the window.
He was much stronger than her, and by the time he had her on her back, hands and legs spread out and securely pinned, she knew she was lost. ‘Bastard,’ she cursed through gritted teeth, but he only smiled. He bent his head towards her and she jerked away from him, but he persisted and shortly, though she knew she didn’t want to, she found herself kissing him deeply.
After that, there wasn’t much argument. She struggled desultorily, but he confined her easily. Stripping her of her shirt and skirt and discovering she wore nothing underneath, he then reached for a rope and began to bind her hands behind her back. Round and round he wound it, like a pro, till Beth knew there would be no escape forthcoming. He repeated the process at her elbows, drawing them closer and closer together as Beth complained. Eventually, they touched, and Beth gasped at the sensation.
Busy trying to come to terms with her bonds, Beth only vaguely registered the ropes winding round her legs till she realised she was bound securely at ankle and knee. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered into the floor, but he chose not to hear. Instead, he hogtied her quite tightly, and stood back to admire his work.
His dominatrix lay at his feet, naked, roped by his own hand. Her hair fell in dark waves over the floor, and her skin shivered as her muscles tested their bonds.
‘Intoxicating, isn’t it?’ he asked in a gentle tone. Beth tensed.
‘I’ll have you banned from the club,’ she replied, trying to make her voice hard.
Joe knelt beside her again, rolling her onto her side so he could see her face. She glowered at him to hide the arousal she knew shone in her eyes.
‘I think you’d find this easier if you were gagged,’ he said calmly. ‘Then you can just relax and go with the flow.’
‘No way,’ gulped Beth, suddenly scared on a whole new level. But Joe was adamant. He held the red rubber ball in front of her mouth, holding her gaze, till, with an enormous upheaval inside, she opened her mouth and let him gag her. He buckled it tightly behind her head.
Breathing fast through her nose, Beth closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sensations pounding her from every angle. Helpless in front of her own client, speechless, she felt him slip a finger between her legs and feel the wetness inside her. As she opened her eyes and gave him a look of tortured delight, he grinned triumphantly.
‘This is the pure reaction you always wanted me to have, isn’t it?’ he asked. ‘Physically and mentally.’
Beth screwed her eyes shut again, refusing to recognise what she could now see in herself.
Joe found two fat cushions and placed them on the floor beside Beth, lifting her onto them so she lay on her back, pressing her bound limbs beneath her. He sat beside her, caressing her breasts, stroking her stomach, as she lay hazily, silently, fearfully. No surrender. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t submit to him. It was all wrong. She was the dominatrix, and here she was bound helplessly in her own playroom, her client pinching her nipples freely and flipping her mind over and over. Her body, traitor that it was, was on fire with arousal, melding with the ropes that held her captive, yearning for Joe to come inside her.
Her mind flashed back to her first experience at the hands of Jack, who was so good, so seductive, so dominant… perhaps, after all, we’re all dominant to those less so than ourselves. But then, when we meet someone more expert than we are, we succumb…
Beth opened her eyes and saw Joe kneeling in front of her, holding a plastic object. She moaned into her gag as he pushed it between her legs and deep into her, turning on the vibration as he did so. Then he kissed her, before rolling her back onto her front and allowing her arms and legs to revive. He put the cushions away.
It was time for their session to end. Bending down to kiss her hot forehead, Joe whispered goodbye, and left the room.
Beth shrieked into her gag, and began to kick at her bonds with a vengeance. He wasn’t going to leave her here! Her next client would be along in minutes, or another member of staff… The humiliation was too much to contemplate. Joe had tied her too well for her to even budge one of the knots. As she writhed and shouted, the vibrator inside her drove her to a toe-curling orgasm, and she strained at her bonds as it washed through her, forgetting all about the people who would soon find her in her predicament…
***********
Jamey knocked nervously on Beth’s door, wondering what was wrong. Her next client was waiting, and Beth was never late.
Jamey was slightly in awe of Beth, so didn’t dare go in for several minutes. She’d been learning her trade as a dominatrix from Beth, who was a harsh but inspiring teacher. Jamey had spent one too many afternoons at the receiving end of her talents, in punishment for screwing up.
Eventually she pushed open the door and peered anxiously round it.
For a moment, she thought Beth must have a client with her. Lying in the middle of the floor was a hogtied, naked woman, writhing in what was unmistakable orgasm. She started to close the door again before she recognised Beth as that hogtied naked woman.
Something must have gone terribly wrong. Dashing through the door, Jamey was beside Beth in a second, trembling fingers working the buckles on the back of the gag that silenced her. As Beth worked her sore jaw muscles, Jamey released the hog tie and rolled her onto her side, her arms and legs still bound.
‘Beth, oh god, what happened?’ she murmured. Beth was trying to say something but she wasn’t listening. ‘I’ll get Jack, we have to call the police...’
‘No!’ shouted Beth, who hadn’t before realised it was possible to actually die of embarrassment. But at least it was Jamey who’d found her, Jamey who worshipped the ground she walked on and could be trusted to keep this quiet.
‘Jamey, just shut the door and untie me, right now.’ She tried to keep the wobble from her voice but was afraid it still showed. She jerked once more at her bonds and gave a shout of frustration.
Jamey stood up slowly and looked towards the door, which stood wide open. Any minute now someone could walk past and see Beth’s predicament. Thoughtfully, she crossed the room and closed the door, quietly turning the key in the lock.
‘Jamey, untie me now,’ ordered Beth, who was desperate to get the still-vibrating object out from inside her before she came again. Her arms were aching at the strictness of her bonds.
Kneeling beside Beth, Jamey reached for the knots that bound her ankles but hesitated.
‘Come on, Jamey,’ groaned Beth. ‘What’s wrong?’ She glanced up and saw with a shiver that Jamey was staring right at her.
‘All in good time,’ her trainee whispered seductively. ‘But right now, I have other plans.’ And with a swift, practised movement which Beth had taught her, she pinched Beth’s nose hard till she opened her mouth to breathe, and then pushed the ball gag back into place.
Beth screamed, but it was silenced rapidly by the gag. She bucked in her bonds but it was no use. Jamey had found the vibrator inside her and was turning it up to its max. With a calm, sadistic smile, she pushed a butt plug deep inside her and retied the hogtie, tighter this time, pulling her head back as well using the straps on the gag as tethers.
‘Come on now, Beth,’ she murmured in a tone she’d never used with her before – she’d never dared. ‘What dominatrix worth her name would pass up this opportunity?’ And she sauntered off to examine the rows of nipple clamps on the wall, as Beth slid helplessly once more towards orgasm.
*********
Beth pressed down a little harder with her stiletto heel on Jamey’s naked back, till her student cried out and rattled the chains that held her prone on the floor.
‘I’m sorry, Beth,’ she pleaded. ‘Please forgive me. You know I’ll do anything for you.’
Beth arched one eyebrow and picked up her whip. ‘I think you proved that already, darling,’ she said icily, and flicked the whip accurately across her bare bottom, making her dance in her chains.
Revenge was nice, but was it really worth it? It was enough that Jamey had come to her and knelt before her, almost in tears, scared by what she had done to her mentor. She didn’t really need to rub it in physically. After all, she’d done the job well, making Beth come several times over. She put down the whip, another item that she'd purchased from Sax Leather and started to unlock the cuffs from Jamey’s limbs.
‘Get out of here,’ she ordered, a smile twitching on her lips. ‘And tell Jack on your way out that you’ll be needing your own room from now on.’
Jamey pulled on her clothes in a daze of terrified happiness, not quite believing that Beth had actually let her graduate to full, independent dominatrix.
‘Honestly?’ she gasped, and when Beth nodded she leapt into her arms and hugged her tight.
‘Just one thing though...’ said Beth, extricating herself from her grasp. ‘Not one word to anyone. Or else.’
Jamey nodded furiously, then asked if she was ever going to explain.
‘No, I am not,’ replied Beth, sending her on her way with another flick of the whip.
Explain? How could she? She didn’t even know what had happened herself. She, who thought she didn’t have a submissive bone in her body, writhing in unmistakeable arousal in bonds applied by her client and her student. Something must be wrong with her...
As she packed up her equipment and changed into her normal clothes, her mind was full of Joe. Jamey had taken advantage of finding her helplessly bound, but she hadn’t taken over her mind the way Joe had. The feeling made her almost sick with vertigo. Everything had been turned upside down. Her professional pride wounded by not being able to dominate him, and now her sense of self thrown into question...
Shivering with more than the cold night air, she stepped out into the street.
**************
It took a lot of effort not to return to the club before the week was up. Finally, today, he allowed himself to go. He had to see her, and he assumed she was expecting him. Although this time, perhaps not with the expectation of dominating him.
He had never been this intoxicated by a woman. Girlfriends had come and gone, and some had even let him tie them, but no one had made him feel this way. Trouble was, he was always attracted to strong, independent women – the kind who wanted long, passionate lovemaking and not the dirty, kinky scenes that filled his mind, all the more when the woman was entirely the opposite of your typical submissive.
He’d tried paying women – escorts, women in clubs like this one – to submit to his ropes and chains, but it just wasn’t right. It gave him chance to practise his skills, but his soul wasn’t in it. Arriving at Beth’s club intending to ask for a session where he could tie a woman – the craving always caught up with him – he’d seen Beth stalking the corridors and fallen head over heels for her. On finding she was purely a domme, he’d signed up anyway.
It had been very strange, allowing himself to be bound and teased by her. He maintained a cool detachment, enjoying her attentions as her cool fingers touched his skin, but not in the slightest feeling submissive to her. It amused him to watch her struggle with him. It was a cruel joke, really, to pretend he was a sub and let her question her professional skills, but it was worth it just to spend that hour with her each week.
And then that tiny instant when she’d hesitated, and he’d taken the cuffs from her... He hadn’t been planning to do that. But the flash he’d seen in her eyes gave him hope, and it was done before he’d even thought about it. Oh god, if he could turn her... it was too much to think about.
He composed himself before stepping into her room, determined to maintain his calm appearance.
Beth was pacing restlessly back and forth, waiting for him. Even biting her nails and frowning, she looked amazing: she had on those high boots which looked so painful to walk in they were as much a sub’s punishment as a domme’s attire. Her waist was nipped in by a leather corset, above and below which flowed her breasts and hips in perfect curves underneath the skirt and silk shirt that she wore. Her hair gleamed softly in the light as she turned to face him, eyes flashing both a warning and a plea.
Joe closed the door behind him and placed his coat on a chair, moving slowly. His eyes never left hers. Once his dominatrix; now his sub – or so he wished. He could tell she was going to fight it, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. He felt a smile touch his lips.
Seeing as Beth was apparently lost for words, he sat down and crossed his legs. Still she hovered at the far side of the room, arms crossed protectively across her chest.
‘Have you ever been tied before?’ he asked, as if it were an everyday question. Beth shook her head sharply, then, after a moment’s consideration, nodded slightly. Joe gave her a questioning look. Beth sighed, and stepped across the room to her private set of drawers where she kept her notes on her clients and their preferences under lock and key. From the depths of one of the drawers she withdrew a photograph and thrust it in his direction.
‘Me,’ she said shortly. Joe looked at the picture he held in his hand. It depicted Beth dressed in gaudy underwear, her arms and legs bound, on her knees in front of the man he recognised as the owner of this club. It looked like it had been taken from CCTV.
Beth was now leaning against the far wall, her eyes closed. ‘We all have to have an initiation, with Jack. The owner of this place. He says you can’t domme someone properly unless you know how it feels to be dommed. So that’s my session.’ Her voice was hard, as she tried to control the wobble she felt.
Joe felt his trousers stirring as he gazed at the picture – this glamorous dominatrix bound on her knees in grainy black and white. Eventually he rose and crossed the room towards her. Standing close beside her, he ran one finger down the side of her face and felt her shudder.
‘Would you like to do that with me?’ he asked, softly.
Beth swallowed and closed her eyes again. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, like it was the most horrible confession. When she opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a wide grin on his face which was quickly smothered.
He leant towards her, sliding his arms around her sculpted, corseted waist, and kissed her cheek.
‘You can domme the entire world,’ he murmured, ‘and I’ll love you for it. Just let go enough to submit to me.’
‘How can I?’ she said forcefully, tensing in his arms.
He smiled wickedly. ‘Darling, it’s not your choice. It’s mine.’ He took her hands and held them together behind her back with one of his, making her moan imperceptibly. ‘And I want to bind you hard and tease you till you beg for more.’
‘But I’m a dominatrix,’ she moaned, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘This is my life. Every man but you I want to tie up and humiliate.’
Gently Joe disengaged himself and stepped back a couple of paces. He hated to cause so much pain and bewilderment. But he was sure he was right, was sure she wanted this, even though she didn’t know for certain herself. And then he had a bright idea.
‘So domme yourself,’ he challenged her, taking his seat again and watching expectantly. ‘Show me what you can do.’
She frowned at him, confused. He gestured to the racks of cuffs and rope that adorned one wall. ‘Tie yourself up for me. And make it as good as you would for a client.’
With his eyes upon her, Beth felt a tingle between her legs as she listened to his request – or was it a command? No... not a command. He didn’t own her entirely, yet.
‘Are you serious?’ she asked, her professional mind already wandering to how she could tie herself most effectively. She’d never done it before, but now she was intrigued.
‘Of course,’ he replied with a grin. ‘Come on, I want a show.’
Confidence rising a little, Beth grinned back. She was, after all, a natural performer. ‘Alright then,’ she said, feeling surreal.
How to get herself completely helpless... it was certainly a challenge. She enjoyed considering herself as her own client. To be honest, she kind of scared herself too... she knew just how cruel she could be.
Joe watched from his chair as Beth, absorbed in her task, strode round the room gathering rope, a gag, leather cuffs and chains. She checked a chain which hung from the ceiling, and nodded to herself when she was satisfied it was secure. Only when she was ready to begin did she glance his way and begin to strip. As the corset came off, Joe pictured himself tight lacing her back into it.
She stood naked in front of him, unselfconsciously. She started with her chest. Running ropes round her chest, above and below her breasts, she formed a harness that squeezed them tightly, making them stand out in sensitive globes. A very strict crotch rope followed, with knots in three places to plague her. Joe had to struggle not to take his cock in his hand as he watched her bind herself, her hands working quickly over her own body, handling the rope like the pro she was, even though she was tying herself. She still looked the very essence of a dominatrix, as she worked swiftly and accurately to restrain herself in what was clearly going to be a challenging position.
When her body harness was complete, she bent at the waist to tie her legs. Many turns of tightly cinched rope soon held her ankles, calves and thighs firmly together. Balancing precariously on her bound legs, she stood carefully up.
Watching her buckle herself into a red ball gag was almost more than he could bear. She was taking it so seriously, intent upon her work as with any client. After the gag was in place, stretching her lips, she cuffed her wrists in front of her with leather cuffs which were joined by a 6 inch chain.
She’d placed herself directly under the chain which hung from the ceiling, before she’d started tying her legs, so now all she had to do was raise her arms and lift the chain between her cuffs over the hook that dangled on the end of the ceiling chain. This she did with ease, because the chain hung quite low. Joe was almost disappointed: she could easily release her hands. But then she gave a downward tug and, like a roller blind, the chain retracted about twelve inches upwards with a force that was powerful enough to pull her up with it, her arms now stretched above her head, her stomach taut, leaving her standing on the balls of her feet but nothing more.
It was now that her expression changed from one of calm control to one of wide eyed, nervous arousal. The moment she was inescapably restrained, bound and stretched out by her own hand, she moaned into her gag and her body writhed gently, her toes dancing on the floor as she tried to get comfortable. It wasn’t much use. Joe could see that the chain pulling her arms up had also raised her shoulders in their harness, so that the crotch rope dug in more deeply, practically invisible between the folds of her pussy. The ropes round her breasts also seemed to be holding her more tightly.
Joe had to admit, she certainly knew her job.
He circled his bound dominatrix, running his fingers over her taut flesh as she squirmed. Then he gave her a push, letting her swing back into position as her feet scrabbled on the floor for purchase – not yet willing to lie back and go with the flow. Her eyes, too, as he turned her to face him were flickering between the urge to fight him and a desperate need to let him take control. Holding her gaze, he reached up and pulled the chain a little higher, lifting her feet from the ground entirely.
Before she could complain, he pushed her again, and this time she swung unimpeded till she came to rest beside him once more, moaning softly, hanging loose in her bonds. That was more like it. The more he took away her control, the less need she felt to fight. Well, that was OK. His imagination writhed with evil ideas for making her utterly, totally, helplessly his.
It was a hard position: sweat was breaking out on her forehead, and her hands were turning white. A couple more swings and he’d release her. But before that, he whispered into her ear.
‘I’m going to tie you up so tight you can’t even blink, and leave you till you beg for release.’
Push. Swing. A quiet moan from behind the gag. Eyes closed.
‘I’m going to bind your breasts hard and whip them while you thank me for every stroke.’
Push. Swing. A louder moan this time, a little more frantic.
‘I’m going to strap you into a bit and bridle and make you trot naked round my garden, with bells on your ankles and a tail flowing from your ass.’
Push. Swing. He took his erection in his hand and starting to stroke slowly. Beth writhed in her bonds, body and mind both over-exerted.
‘I’m going to corset train you down to 16 inches, pierce your nipples, and own every inch of your body.’
Push. Swing. Each mad idea drove both him and her even higher. Breathing hard, she came to rest beside him, almost exhausted. This time, he spun her around, letting her twist back and forth at the end of the chain.
‘And I’m going to bound, gagged, and blindfolded for days on end, as I fuck you any time I want.’
He released her now, helping her down then pushing her gently to her knees, and onto her stomach on the floor. He recuffed her arms behind her then stood above her, stroking his cock hard and fast as she moaned and writhed on the floor, clearly desperate to come. The sight of her in such frustrated disarray was too much. Mind full of images of what they would do together, he came hard and his cum splashed down onto her skin.
Beth jerked in her bonds as the hot cum seared its significance across her back and her bottom, arching her neck and shouting into the gag as she, too, felt orgasm rising deep with her.
***************
Neatly dressed once more, professional demeanour intact, Beth opened the door and ushered Joe out.
‘Same time next week?’ she said, and Joe nodded. A smile touched her lips as he left, turning to flash her a wicked grin before the front door of the club closed behind him.
Beth picked up her strop whip, and patted it against the palm of her opposite hand.
‘Now then, who’s next?’ she asked, her eyes lighting on her next client, who suddenly seemed more apprehensive than excited about his session. Beth licked her lips and smiled like a snake spying its next meal.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I’m in a very good mood.’ And the door closed behind her with a bang.
30.01.12 (Reposted)