I don't know precisely when I woke. Work had been a bitch, I was a bit
frazzled because of it, so before hitting the sack I enjoyed a glass of
merlot. The wine helped wash the day away and It also ensured that I
would find sleep fast, and find it deep. My eyes opened without any of
the rest of my body moving. It was then that I became aware that my four
post bed had been used to secure my arms and legs. Tied; not so tightly
that it was uncomfortable, but not such that I was afforded much
movement either. I was lightly covered, a sheet I guessed, and oddly
enough I could not tell if the clothes I had worn to bed, t-shirt and
underwear, were still on; funny how your senses seem lost for a while
when your fingers cannot reach what needs to be touched. Then again, it
could have been the wine too.
I was calm. At the time it did not occur to me that I should have been
panicked, and it should have seemed odd that I wasn't. It could have
been a sixth sense, an unconscious awareness of a familiar scent, or the
almost recognisable melody that I thought I could hear coming from the
stereo in the living room that made me feel safe. Whatever the reason, I
felt as secure as a joey tucked into the depths of its mother's pouch.
For an instance my mind wandered back to the day that I picked out this
bed. I had been strongly attracted to its dark cherry finish, and I
liked the posts that reached up toward the ceiling without the burden of
any kind of canopy. I never, not consciously at least, thought about
having arms and legs secured to each of the posts.
From the dance of shadows on the ceiling I assumed that the small candle
on my desk had been lit. I was grateful as it would allow me to see what
might happen to me without straining my eyes. The shadows were relaxing,
hypnotising; I must have closed my eyes, and started to doze again. The
next thing I knew she was hovering over me.
She, until now, had been just a friend. A while back I had given her a
key to my place so as to have a rescue should I manage to become locked
out or somesuch; I never imagined that she'd use the key like this.
Nonetheless, here she was, with something shiny in one hand and a grin
on her face. Odd shadows danced across her white t-shirt playing games
with my eyes as the curves of her body seemed to move underneath.
She whispered: "Want to play?"
I'm not sure what she'd have done if I said no, though I never
considered that as an answer. All I could manage was a nod to indicate
that I did. Her smile doubled, then turned a bit sinister, and she
pulled back the sheet that had covered me.
Her hands started down at my feet; slowly they caressed, moving from
ankle to calf, and further up my leg. I could feel fingers trace the leg
openings of my underwear as they passed, and then her hands were inside
my shirt. From my stomach to my shoulders her fingers slowly danced
across my chest. I could see her nipples grow hard as they pressed
against her t-shirt; leaning over me had streatched the material tight
across her torso.
I continued to stare at her breasts, transfixed as her t-shirt would
occasionally pull tight enough for the details of her nipples, and the
shape of her breasts, to show through. I was lost in both the visual and
the tactile sensations as her hands continued under my shirt. Then
something pinched a nipple; one of my nipples. I gasped, but the
pinching did not stop even as her hands moved toward my waist. My
reaction must have been pleasing because a look of satisfaction washed
over her face.
Her hands continued to caress, but now with an occasional reminder that
something was constantly biting my nipple. Each move of her hands tugged
ever so slightly at my shirt, which in turn pulled just enough to send a
small spike of pain rippling outward from the source.
She lifted my shirt so that my stomach was now bare. The shiny thing was
back in her hand and she pressed it against what was now exposed. It was
cold, but not as sharp as the clip that was biting me up above. I felt
her using it to trace along my underwear from one hip to the other. With
each pass I could feel it slide further inside, moving back and forth
tickling the top of my hair.
Suddenly she stopped, the object poised at one of my hips. Then, I was
aware of what the shiny thing was as it cut from the waist to the leg
opening of my underwear. The taught material sprang apart, exposing more
skin and leaving my whole body feeling prickly. I could feel scissors
being moved to my opposite hip, sliding under the loose bit of material
as they went. Unlike their movement before, the angle and pressure
caused the tip to leave scrapped skin in its wake. I could feel the welt
raise, and after a moment it was the center of a strange heat that
seemed to overtake my body; I was hot, and I wanted, no I needed, to be
taken to the limit.
She stood, walked to the desk where she laid the scissors, and then left
the room though there were plenty of reminders of her visit still in the
room. The teeth were still biting into me. My breathing, now shallow and
quick, caused my shirt to tug at the clip producing a continuous
oscillation of pain. My underware was now gone. I could feel the cool
air across what had been covered. The welt was now itching and caused me
to struggle against that which bound my legs and arms; my efforts to
give some relief to the burning were completely shut down.
I could not see her, but I could tell she was coming back. She must have
brought more candles as the room was now better lit, but still with the
same hyptonising flickering as before. She mounted the bed, and
straddled my stomach, her motion lifting her t-shirt enough for me to
see that she had removed her underwear. I could smell her and I wanted
to taste her. Her knees squeezed the sides of my rib cage and rleased,
then squeezed again, and released. The third squeeze pulled my shirt
tight enough to pop the clip on my nipple off; it made a tiny snaping
sound. I made an involuntary noise as the pain in my nipple was now ten
times worse than it was before. She laughed.
She pushed my shirt up as far as she could make it go all the while
grinding into one of my hip bones. She bent forward and gently kissed
me; first on the forehead, then the cheek and a light brush of her lips
against mine. I could feel myself strain against my bindings trying to
move my hips and match the rhythm of her motions, and to move my body to
receive even a small amount of direct stimulation, but the straps did
not afford me enough motion to do more than sit there and let her use
me.
Bending forward again, she whispered "close your eyes." I did. The
rocking stopped and she was no longer on the bed. The absense of her
touch made me realise that I needed to be touched and made my body ache
for it. I kept my eyes shut, straining to hear what might be happening
round me, but heard nothing except the sound of my still rapid
breathing.
They were like a million tiny pin pricks, as they landed all across my
chest and stomach. I shreaked, and tried to pull arms and legs inward to
protect myself. My eyes opened and for a moment I was blinded as she
held a three candle candelabrum high above my midsection. My eyes
adjusted and could see that she had stripped out of her t-shirt; the
flames of the candles causing odd shadows to dance across her body. A
quick shake of her hand and the second wave of wax rained down and the
pin pricks hit all at the same instance causing another gasp and
involuntary pulling of my arms and legs against their restraints.
Another wave of the hot drops, not so much time in between this time
round, and the candles were set on the night stand.
Back on the bed, she slowly straddled me and knelt, stopping just above
my mouth. I could feel her heat and smell the musky perfume a woman
gives off to attract a lover. I was attracted, and strained my neck to
raise my mouth to her; I needed to taste what, to that point, I could
only smell. Straining my neck hurt, and soon I had enough of a cramp
that I had to lower my head back to the bed. She followed me down and
pressed hard against my lips; again I used my tongue to tickle her, I
sucked, I drank her all in.
She moved her hips back and forth keeping herself pressed firmly against
my mouth. I could feel her clit each time it passed, and it seemed to
linger longer with each successive trip. It finally came to rest, and I
sealed my lips round it, sucking it into my mouth. I squeezed it between
my teeth; not so much to bite but to apply a firm pressure that I hoped
would send her over the top. It was her turn to squeel, and she could
hold out no longer. Like the first close lightning strike of a
thunderstorm, I could feel her climax begin. Her muscles began to shake
and quiver, and then I felt her nails as they bit into me and did not
let go until her orgasm started to abate.
I was so close at that point that I came almost as soon as she touched
me. Her tongue danced lightly at first, but when she started to bite me
I could not stop my orgasm from taking over my body. It was the most
powerful orgasm I have ever had. I felt every muscle in my body seize
and release in unison for what seemed like an hour. She bit, pulled, and
tugged until finally I had to speak; beging her to stop.
At the beginning I did not realise when exactly I had woken, and in the
end I did not realise that I had fallen back asleep. I only remember
waking as the first light of the morning shone in through my windows.
Semi-naked, though covered, I was no longer tied to the bed. The air
still held a hint of her perfume, but no other trace of her remained
from the previous night. Well, no traces that would show once my clothes
were on.
frazzled because of it, so before hitting the sack I enjoyed a glass of
merlot. The wine helped wash the day away and It also ensured that I
would find sleep fast, and find it deep. My eyes opened without any of
the rest of my body moving. It was then that I became aware that my four
post bed had been used to secure my arms and legs. Tied; not so tightly
that it was uncomfortable, but not such that I was afforded much
movement either. I was lightly covered, a sheet I guessed, and oddly
enough I could not tell if the clothes I had worn to bed, t-shirt and
underwear, were still on; funny how your senses seem lost for a while
when your fingers cannot reach what needs to be touched. Then again, it
could have been the wine too.
I was calm. At the time it did not occur to me that I should have been
panicked, and it should have seemed odd that I wasn't. It could have
been a sixth sense, an unconscious awareness of a familiar scent, or the
almost recognisable melody that I thought I could hear coming from the
stereo in the living room that made me feel safe. Whatever the reason, I
felt as secure as a joey tucked into the depths of its mother's pouch.
For an instance my mind wandered back to the day that I picked out this
bed. I had been strongly attracted to its dark cherry finish, and I
liked the posts that reached up toward the ceiling without the burden of
any kind of canopy. I never, not consciously at least, thought about
having arms and legs secured to each of the posts.
From the dance of shadows on the ceiling I assumed that the small candle
on my desk had been lit. I was grateful as it would allow me to see what
might happen to me without straining my eyes. The shadows were relaxing,
hypnotising; I must have closed my eyes, and started to doze again. The
next thing I knew she was hovering over me.
She, until now, had been just a friend. A while back I had given her a
key to my place so as to have a rescue should I manage to become locked
out or somesuch; I never imagined that she'd use the key like this.
Nonetheless, here she was, with something shiny in one hand and a grin
on her face. Odd shadows danced across her white t-shirt playing games
with my eyes as the curves of her body seemed to move underneath.
She whispered: "Want to play?"
I'm not sure what she'd have done if I said no, though I never
considered that as an answer. All I could manage was a nod to indicate
that I did. Her smile doubled, then turned a bit sinister, and she
pulled back the sheet that had covered me.
Her hands started down at my feet; slowly they caressed, moving from
ankle to calf, and further up my leg. I could feel fingers trace the leg
openings of my underwear as they passed, and then her hands were inside
my shirt. From my stomach to my shoulders her fingers slowly danced
across my chest. I could see her nipples grow hard as they pressed
against her t-shirt; leaning over me had streatched the material tight
across her torso.
I continued to stare at her breasts, transfixed as her t-shirt would
occasionally pull tight enough for the details of her nipples, and the
shape of her breasts, to show through. I was lost in both the visual and
the tactile sensations as her hands continued under my shirt. Then
something pinched a nipple; one of my nipples. I gasped, but the
pinching did not stop even as her hands moved toward my waist. My
reaction must have been pleasing because a look of satisfaction washed
over her face.
Her hands continued to caress, but now with an occasional reminder that
something was constantly biting my nipple. Each move of her hands tugged
ever so slightly at my shirt, which in turn pulled just enough to send a
small spike of pain rippling outward from the source.
She lifted my shirt so that my stomach was now bare. The shiny thing was
back in her hand and she pressed it against what was now exposed. It was
cold, but not as sharp as the clip that was biting me up above. I felt
her using it to trace along my underwear from one hip to the other. With
each pass I could feel it slide further inside, moving back and forth
tickling the top of my hair.
Suddenly she stopped, the object poised at one of my hips. Then, I was
aware of what the shiny thing was as it cut from the waist to the leg
opening of my underwear. The taught material sprang apart, exposing more
skin and leaving my whole body feeling prickly. I could feel scissors
being moved to my opposite hip, sliding under the loose bit of material
as they went. Unlike their movement before, the angle and pressure
caused the tip to leave scrapped skin in its wake. I could feel the welt
raise, and after a moment it was the center of a strange heat that
seemed to overtake my body; I was hot, and I wanted, no I needed, to be
taken to the limit.
She stood, walked to the desk where she laid the scissors, and then left
the room though there were plenty of reminders of her visit still in the
room. The teeth were still biting into me. My breathing, now shallow and
quick, caused my shirt to tug at the clip producing a continuous
oscillation of pain. My underware was now gone. I could feel the cool
air across what had been covered. The welt was now itching and caused me
to struggle against that which bound my legs and arms; my efforts to
give some relief to the burning were completely shut down.
I could not see her, but I could tell she was coming back. She must have
brought more candles as the room was now better lit, but still with the
same hyptonising flickering as before. She mounted the bed, and
straddled my stomach, her motion lifting her t-shirt enough for me to
see that she had removed her underwear. I could smell her and I wanted
to taste her. Her knees squeezed the sides of my rib cage and rleased,
then squeezed again, and released. The third squeeze pulled my shirt
tight enough to pop the clip on my nipple off; it made a tiny snaping
sound. I made an involuntary noise as the pain in my nipple was now ten
times worse than it was before. She laughed.
She pushed my shirt up as far as she could make it go all the while
grinding into one of my hip bones. She bent forward and gently kissed
me; first on the forehead, then the cheek and a light brush of her lips
against mine. I could feel myself strain against my bindings trying to
move my hips and match the rhythm of her motions, and to move my body to
receive even a small amount of direct stimulation, but the straps did
not afford me enough motion to do more than sit there and let her use
me.
Bending forward again, she whispered "close your eyes." I did. The
rocking stopped and she was no longer on the bed. The absense of her
touch made me realise that I needed to be touched and made my body ache
for it. I kept my eyes shut, straining to hear what might be happening
round me, but heard nothing except the sound of my still rapid
breathing.
They were like a million tiny pin pricks, as they landed all across my
chest and stomach. I shreaked, and tried to pull arms and legs inward to
protect myself. My eyes opened and for a moment I was blinded as she
held a three candle candelabrum high above my midsection. My eyes
adjusted and could see that she had stripped out of her t-shirt; the
flames of the candles causing odd shadows to dance across her body. A
quick shake of her hand and the second wave of wax rained down and the
pin pricks hit all at the same instance causing another gasp and
involuntary pulling of my arms and legs against their restraints.
Another wave of the hot drops, not so much time in between this time
round, and the candles were set on the night stand.
Back on the bed, she slowly straddled me and knelt, stopping just above
my mouth. I could feel her heat and smell the musky perfume a woman
gives off to attract a lover. I was attracted, and strained my neck to
raise my mouth to her; I needed to taste what, to that point, I could
only smell. Straining my neck hurt, and soon I had enough of a cramp
that I had to lower my head back to the bed. She followed me down and
pressed hard against my lips; again I used my tongue to tickle her, I
sucked, I drank her all in.
She moved her hips back and forth keeping herself pressed firmly against
my mouth. I could feel her clit each time it passed, and it seemed to
linger longer with each successive trip. It finally came to rest, and I
sealed my lips round it, sucking it into my mouth. I squeezed it between
my teeth; not so much to bite but to apply a firm pressure that I hoped
would send her over the top. It was her turn to squeel, and she could
hold out no longer. Like the first close lightning strike of a
thunderstorm, I could feel her climax begin. Her muscles began to shake
and quiver, and then I felt her nails as they bit into me and did not
let go until her orgasm started to abate.
I was so close at that point that I came almost as soon as she touched
me. Her tongue danced lightly at first, but when she started to bite me
I could not stop my orgasm from taking over my body. It was the most
powerful orgasm I have ever had. I felt every muscle in my body seize
and release in unison for what seemed like an hour. She bit, pulled, and
tugged until finally I had to speak; beging her to stop.
At the beginning I did not realise when exactly I had woken, and in the
end I did not realise that I had fallen back asleep. I only remember
waking as the first light of the morning shone in through my windows.
Semi-naked, though covered, I was no longer tied to the bed. The air
still held a hint of her perfume, but no other trace of her remained
from the previous night. Well, no traces that would show once my clothes
were on.
