Category Archives: Bondage

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The next thing she knew, a piece of dark cloth had been quickly placed over her eyes by her male escort. A blindfold. He tied it in back with a quick and efficient twist of his hands. This surprised her greatly. There were two straps that pulled across her cheeks to keep the gag in place. These also were tied behind her head.

Everything was dark. Unable to even speak, she felt totally helpless and afraid. Her head was buzzing. She wasn’t sure she could do this, do what he asked.

She hesitated. She wanted to scream. The fear was building in intensity. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and pushed her to the floor. The wooden floor dug into the bones of her kneecaps.

She considered holding up two fingers, but didn’t want to quit so soon. She needed to at least try. Calm down, she told herself. This is safe. He won’t ever hurt you.

She did as he told her. The pain in her knees was uncomfortable but bearable. He left her in this position for minutes, maybe as long as fifteen minutes. The pain was slowly increasing as she was forced to maintain the position.

She got slowly to her feet. His hand was immediately upon her elbow, and he pulled her forward. In an instant, he’d thrown her on her back on the soft bed. After the hard floor and the pain in her knees, the bed felt positively luxurious and she was grateful to him for putting her on it.

He began tying up her wrists with what she assumed were the scarves she’d seen dangling from the four bedposts. Next, he tied her feet. She was completely tied up and immobile now. She couldn’t see or speak.

After some time had passed, he changed position. She could sense his movements but didn’t know what he was doing. His hands were on her calves now, lightly touching them.

His hands moved up to her thighs. Now she was feeling the pleasure. She moaned through her gag. The darkness had become a friend, somehow. She rather enjoyed not knowing where his hands would move next. Not knowing what he might do to her, where he might touch her.

For a very long time, his warm hands moved along her thighs, tracing up and down, and each time he strayed towards her wetness, she moaned louder and louder. She was going to cum soon. She couldn’t help it. She’d wanted him to touch her like this, and here it was happening.

A man that could have any woman he wanted had chosen her. Her body was shaking as she tried to resist the urge to come. The more she tried to resist, the harder it became. Her nipples were so hard she could have cut glass with them. They poked roughly up through her dress. He must have noticed this, because suddenly his hands were on them, roughly pulling her nipples and squeezing them through the sheer fabric of the dress.

She moaned louder and louder, her body bucking and writhing in its straps. He played more with her nipples, sometimes being gentle, other times squeezing until it was never painful. But always there was pleasure. Always.

He was a master, and he played her body the way a great violinist would stroke his bow against the strings of an instrument. Sometimes fiercely, with something akin to violence, other times the gentleness of his caress was a thing of beauty.

Christina was out of her mind, out of her body, out of her self. She’d become something totally different, as if she’d been transported. In the darkness she found she didn’t care how she looked, or what he might be thinking of her moaning and writhing.
She completely let herself go, let the fantasy become reality.

The orgasm that she’d been fending off and fending off was building to a crescendo that was unimaginable, like a tsunami building and building. Soon it would swallow everything in its path.

The wave broke when his hand slid from her nipples down her ribcage, her belly and stopped at the very top of her slick cunt. She knew she’d long ago soaked through her dress, it was sticking to her skin and he could likely see everything in stark outline.
His fingers came to rest and one fingertip dug slowly into her swollen flesh, nudging her clitoris.

She came then, with such ferocity that it might have looked like convulsions. She bucked her hips and his finger was fucking her now, fucking her through her dress. She screamed but the gag blocked her screams. All that came out was muffled moans. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in air and expelled it, still bucking. The orgasm continued and continued. By the time it was over, she was simply drenched. Drenched and exhausted.