All Tied Up
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All Tied Up
She can’t move.
Not in any appreciable way; twitch, strain, tug, yes, but the
restraints hold well and she is spread-eagled on the bed, unable to
free herself.
He is in the other room, watching TV. Knowing that making her wait
heightens the experience. For her, not knowing when he will return,
what he will do when he does, keeps her alive, keeps her senses awake.
Her tools are there on the floor, near the bed; a vibrator that
squirms, swirls, and rotates inside her while tickling her clit; an
acrylic double-ended dildo, one end curved to reach her G-spot, the
other knobbed for her anus. A stubby soft vibrator that fits wherever
she wants to put it.
She hears the television go off in the other room. But no sound of
movement; his breathing is regular, she can hear him, but no
footsteps. Not yet.
The duvet cover feels rough against her bare skin. It’s raw silk; rich
with texture, fibers that rub and tickle her ass, make her back itch.
The stimulation goes straight to her cunt; it’s swollen already, slick
with wet. The game started when she showed up at his apartment,
carrying her things, ready for their out-of-town trip. He greeted her
as always; with a loving kiss, a strong warm hug. Took her things from
her, set them down. Held her face with both hands and gave her a deep,
searching kiss, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth, drawing
from her a sexual response that arched her body into his.
He undressed her, then, before she could walk any further into the
room. Pulled off her jacket. Unzipped her dress and then, as the
sleeves caught on her wrists, fastened the first pair of restraints to
her arms. Pulled down her pantyhose and wrapped the other restraints
around her ankles. She was trussed; by her own clothes, and by the
velvet-lined cuffs. He picked her up and carried her into his bedroom,
laid her gently on the bed and pulled her clothes off. Still in her
bra and panties, she lay without struggling’this was what she’d said
she wanted’as he connected the straps to the restraints and pulled
them snug, pulled her legs apart and fastened her ankles to the foot
of the bed, her hands to the headboard.
Then he pulled out a small, sharp knife and slipped it under her bra,
the dull edge feeling sharp against her breastbone as he sliced
through lace and silk and left the remains laying on the bed. He did
the same with her panties, cutting through them at her hips, pulling
them off.
That was when he’d gone into the other room and turned on the TV.
How long ago’ She couldn’t tell; since then she’d lain on his bed,
pussy exposed by her spread legs, helpless to relieve the ache that
grew there with every tick of his clock.
She hears him moving; hears footsteps. Now he’s standing in the door,
looking at her.
‘That’s a nice, wet, pussy,’ he says. ‘Look at yourself in the
mirror.’ She’d been avoiding that, but now she does; the doors of his
closet are mirrors, right at the foot of the bed. She can see how he
sees her; feet wide, bare hairless cunt shiny with moisture. Labia
swollen, red, so tumescent she swears she can see them pulsating.
‘Wouldn’t you like to touch yourself’ But you can’t, can you?’ He
moves closer.
‘Maybe I’ll touch you. Let’s see, where shall I start?’ His hand
hovers over her, closer and closer but still not in contact. An inch
away from her clit; half-an-inch from a nipple. He leans in and
breathes on her nipples, his lips so close she can almost feel
them’but not quite. ‘Those are luscious. I’ll bet you’d like me to
lick them, nibble them, bite them, wouldn’t you?’
Her cunt twitches; she moans, a sound far back in her throat.
‘Maybe you’d like to lick me?’ he says, and opens his pants to bring
out his hard cock, swollen as she is, red tip engorged with blood. He
touches her lips with it; her tongue darts out, catches the drops of
slick liquid on its tip and traces the seam of the head before he
pulls away.
‘No, not yet. I’m not ready yet.’ He turns away, walks into the
bathroom. She hears the shower begin to run.
Her pussy would moan, if it could speak; it’s convulsing, trying to
come around nothing, groaning for penetration. Her fingers twitch; if
she had one hand free, she would masturbate, and come to orgasm within
seconds. She’s just on the verge, and needing it badly. She licks her
lips; they’re so dry because she can’t stop breathing through her
mouth, panting.
The shower stops; water dripping, footsteps on the tile floor. Silence
for a minute, then the blowdryer comes on. Shuts off. He emerges from
the bathroom, dressed and groomed.
And holding a new toy; a twitchy-looking thing, solid handle wrapped
with braided leather, tail made of soft black rubber fringe, thick as
a horses’ tail. He swishes it in the air. Pulling his other hand from
behind his back, he shows her a blindfold; sets down the twitch, ties
the blindfold around her head.
The loss of sight heightens her other senses. She can hear his
breathing; regular, calm, as if he were sitting at his computer
reading news headlines. Hear the swish of the new toy as he twirls it
above her nude body; feel the movement of the air between its fringe
and her skin. He’s twitching it close to her nipples, now dragging it
across them, and the slight sensation makes her gasp. There’s a pause;
no sound, then a slap of the twitch across her abdomen, no pain but
the surprise makes her jump. And makes her pussy clench, grow wetter,
labia gripping pulsing looking for something to hold onto.
The feeling; again, the soft stretchy threads dragged across her,
tickling the insides of her thighs this time, dipping between them to
brush her labia, softly stroke her clit’for a second’then gone. Then a
slap; harder this time, on her thighs. Still no pain; in fact, the
pleasure has her lifting her ass, offering herself higher.
Silence. Sounds of clothing, of walking. Then the sound of a small
chain; tinkling, like jewelry. His wet fingertips on her nipples
stroke, pinch, squeeze; his lips, his teeth make them harder, make her
nipples ache. Then a tighter pinch, the sound of that chain again, and
another pinch’and she feels him tug on the light connection between
her breasts, the small clamps pinching her nipples, but still no pain.
Only incredible, exquisite, extreme pleasure’jolts of it, straight
into her clit.
‘Oh, God. Please. Fuck me, please. With anything’a toy, your hand, a
tree branch’please?’
But that doesn’t happen. Another tug, wordless, on the chain. Pause;
and slap, the twitch comes down again, a little harder. Tickles her
clit. Her pussy must be dripping on the sheets; it’s so wet, if she
could move a hand she knows her fingers would slide inside instantly,
no friction. ‘Please?’
Slap.
Then; one foot disconnected from the straps her cuffs are chained to.
It’s moved to the other side; both feet in one place, she wonders’ No;
the other foot back where the first came from, and she’s twisted, half
on her stomach, half on her back. Then the hands are switched, and
she’s face down on the mattress, ass exposed.
His hands trail down her back, softly, affectionately. Trace her
spine; reach the cleft in her ass. Pause; this time she thinks she
knows what’s coming’slap, but on her back. Her shoulders. Slap, slap,
slap. No pain, though she can feel her skin warm; no, instead she’s
squirming, writhing, begging to be fucked.
‘Please.’
The twitch hits harder, on her ass this time, and the stinging is
intense, her pussy clenches, her whole body spasms, and it’s a
screaming explosive come. Loud fucking orgasm. Wonder what the
neighbors think is going on.
He’s stopped talking; ignoring the pleas, the ‘please?’ until she
feels his fingers on her ass, lubricated, playing with her anus. Slick
her up; and she waits for’something’it’s not him’it’s the toy with the
knobs. Feel one; fuck it, coming again’two; relax, he says, calm as if
at a business meeting, ‘one more,’ and it’s in too and she shouts,
screams, writhes on the bed, feeling the nipple clamps tug, pulled by
her own weight, grabbing the rails of the headboard as if to pull
herself to safety but she doesn’t want to get away, she wants to ride
this wave like a crazy surfer, naked and ecstatic. Just as she comes
down on the other side, she’s entered again’vibrator in the pussy, the
one with the clit tickler, all on, all vibrating, and this wave is
even higher. ‘Fuck me, fuck me! Fuck!’ Oh God ‘every inch focused on
her pussy, on her cunt, on her clit and her ass and the lips wrapping
them all together, fucking fucking fucking bucking like a horse riding
that surfboard over a tidal wave that leaves her drenched, exhausted,
shivering and still spasming face down on the bed.
Pause. Then his hands, soft now, touching her back, gliding up her
arm, unhooking a wrist. Untying her blindfold. The other wrist; she’s
helpless as a child, incapable of moving to free herself, completely
trusting. He removes her restraints, sets them aside, strokes her
hair. Kisses the top of her head.
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