It started with his big, strong hands wrapped around my wrists, pressing them back against the bed over my head. He rose up on his arms as
he continued to thrust into me, then pinned my wrists back with his hands as his passion-filled eyes bore into mine from above where I lay.
I moaned and gasped, legs spread achingly wide as his hips ground and thrust into me, as his body slapped against my upraised buttocks, as
his big cock slid into the moist, warm, tight, clinging depths of my pussy again and again and again.
I absolutely loved the deep penetration, but I always had. I loved the physical sensation, loved the thought of it pushing into me, going
so deeeep inside me, filling me...
But I found a sudden rapid fluttering of my heart as his hands pinned my wrists down, at the sense of helplessness. And that excitement
only grew more intense as he continued to pin me, and with such ease. I pushed against his grip, not with any desire or attempt to get free,
but as an emotional reassurance of my helpless state. Strange, half-understood emotions fluttered behind my eyes and the heat rose within me
to ever more powerful levels so that when I came I almost cried out, arching and twisting, throwing my legs up around him and grinding
myself against him as heat and fire burned through my mind and body.
I lay, panting, chest heaving, afterward, as he lay atop me, then rolled off. Always before, with other lovers, that meant sex was more or
less done, unless I could persuade them to do a little after-sex hugging. I like hugging, love to pillow my sensitive breasts against a hard
male chest and feel his heart beating. I stretched out with a groan, enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of a double bed after years in
university dorm beds.
His hand slid across my belly, caressing my breasts, and his lips followed, his tongue slipping out, circling and slipping across my nipple
until his lips could close on them and suck lightly.
“I want to tie you up,” he whispered.
The words, half heard, half understood, silenced me for long moments, not because I was shocked or indignant but because the sudden rush of
passion startled me and I didn't want to betray myself by trying to speak before I could hold my voice steady. I was not really a
demonstrative person, you see, had been taught to be controlled, and to guard my sense of dignity.
I let myself chuckle. “Do I scare you, Randy?”
He grinned back. “You need to be tamed,” he said with a mock sneer.
I smirked and shrugged, pretending an indifference which was little more than a false front. I didn't want him to think I was some kind of
perv, after all. I liked him a lot and he was great in bed and had great potential. Who knew what guys might think if you showed too much
enjoyment in sex? They were weird!
Randy rolled off me and went to his closet, opened it, and squatted down low as I rolled onto my side and propped my head on my elbow,
blonde hair spilling down around my arm. I examined his bare back and buttocks as he leaned into the closet, and contemplated what he
intended. I had been dating Randy for weeks now, and he hadn't shown any great propensity to push me around or control me. But then, sex and
bondage was more about passion and heat than control, at least to me.
He came back with a long length of black rope dangling in his hand and climbed onto the bed as I rolled back onto my back.
He straddled me and gripped my left wrist, kissed it, then tied the soft rope around it, looped it several times, crossed it, then pushed
my hand back towards the corner of the bed. He leaned forward, threw the length of rope around the post, then pulled it across to the other
post before drawing it back towards my other wrist.
I felt my heart beating a little faster as he wrapped the rope around that wrist, looping it three times before twisting it around its
length then tightening the loop so I felt the tension in my wrists increasing, tightening the knots.
I felt my pussy begin to thrum, felt my chest tightening as he tied off the rope, then pulled the length of it under the bed, then up
around the left foot post. He slipped off me and stood next to the bed as I spread my legs towards the corners. Again, I felt a rush of heat
as the loops tightened around my ankle, and watched him, pretending indifferent amusement, as he pulled the rope under the bed and up around
the last post.
When he tightened it and I felt the tension drawing taut against my ankles, I felt a gush of heat, knowing how helpless I was, how lewdly
displayed. I blushed as he stood at the foot of the bed looking at me, knowing how wide my legs were spread and just how naked and
vulnerable my bare little pussy was. Could he see how wet I was? Could he tell how my swollen and sensitive my clit felt? I fought to
control my breathing as he climbed onto the bed and knelt between my legs.
His hands moved up my body, skimming my soft skin, caressing my warm breasts. He pinched my nipples and plucked at them.
“Ow,” I gasped.
He grinned and twisted them both so that I arched and pulled against the ropes.
“Oww! Oww! Stop it!”
He chuckled, releasing my nipples. “I can torture you all I want now,” he said in a salivating voice.
He bent and mouthed one nipple, sucking, licking, then biting on it until I gasped and moaned and started to arch and twist. Then he
shifted to my other breast.
“You're my helpless slave now, Robin,” he said, licking a trail up my breast and across my throat.
He lay atop me, kissing me, his body pressed down heavily against mine, his cock hardening as it was squeezed against my abdomen. I moaned
in rapidly rising passion, amazed at how hot I was so quickly after my orgasm, how ready and eager I was to have him inside me again.
He gripped my hair behind my head, forcing my head back, and I gasped in pain as he licked across the front of my throat and then along the
nape of my neck.
“Sex slave,” he taunted me.
He licked his way down my body until he was staring at my pussy, then his thumbs eased me open and he began to lick, thrusting his tongue
into the mouth of my sex, whipping it up across my clit, sucking on my clit until I cried out and writhed against the bonds.
He pulled back and I moaned in dismay.
Then he was climbing up my body, straddling my lower chest. He squeezed my full breasts up around his cock as it lay along my breastbone,
and began to grind in and out, his thick fingers working my soft, malleable flesh hard against his cock as he stroked.
I was generously gifted in the boob department, but my breasts are firm with youth and a dedicated exercise regime which intended to keep
them that way as long as possible. They had been my pride and joy through my teenage years, when they'd turned the boys into stuttering
idiots. Only a few had ever tried to do something like this to them, though, and only as a drunken afterthought. Now I lay back, gasping, a
little outraged and indignant, but filled with a hot, eager excitement, as I watched and felt him virtually masturbating with my breasts!
He squeezed my breasts up together around his cock, making it virtually disappear, until the head slid up through my breasts to end just
inches below my chin. I leaned my head forward, trying to lick at it, and he obligingly thrust deeper, higher, letting my breasts ease apart
as he pushed his cockhead higher.
Then he slid higher, abandoning my breasts, straddling my upper chest, his knees coming down on either side of my head. He fed his cock
into my open mouth and I eagerly closed my lips around it as he gathered together fistfuls of my hair.
“Suck that, baby,” he panted.
His voice hardened, became a mockery of an evil pirate. “Suck cock, slave girl!” he growled. “Suck your master's prick before he whips you
in front of the whole crew!”
I moaned around it, my pussy throbbing as he stroked down into my mouth.
He had hold of my hair and was pulling my head up and forward. Then he eased himself up and thrust down and his cock pushed right into my
throat! I choked only slightly, then felt a shock at how easily he went in, felt that shock continue as I felt the long length of him
sliding through my lips, along my tongue and down my throat until my face was pressed into his groin.
It felt – weird! I'd deep throated before, but only when mostly drunk and after much effort. This time it had slipped right down! I felt a
sense of exultation as he groaned above me, grinding himself into my face.
My chest began to get hot, though, and my head began to pound from lack of air. He slid himself back slowly, and when his cock popped out
of my throat I gagged and almost threw up. But I controlled myself, gasping, my lips and chin wet with saliva as I gulped in air.
“Cock sucker,” he said, rubbing his saliva coated cock against my face.
“Tell me you're a cock sucker, Robin.”
“I-I'm a cock sucker!” I gasped, because it felt hot to say it.
He twisted his fingers in my hair and forced my head back, making my back arch.
“Oww!” I moaned.
“Say it again, slut,” he taunted.
“I'm a cocksucker!” I cried.
He pulled my head forward again and his cock pushed into my open mouth.
“Suck that cock,” he growled. “Suck my cock, slave! Suck it!”
I sucked, moaning around it as he pushed the head into the inside of my cheek, then slid it up along the roof of my mouth and plunged into
my throat. I gurgled weakly as he leaned into me, pulling my head up as he thrust down, and again my face was ground against his lower
abdomen as he buried every inch of his prick in my mouth and throat.
He thrust a few times and I grunted awkwardly, gurgling as he stroked in and out of my throat. Then he jerked back and out and as I was
gasping helplessly he pumped his purple headed cock and he came, pouring his cream over my face, stunning me. He'd suggested that sort of
thing before, as had other boyfriends but I'd always refused.
I felt a sense of outrage and disgust (gross!) but at the same time felt a sense of wild heat as he rubbed his cock against my face,
smearing the droplets of cream into my skin, coating my face from forehead to chin with his warm semen.
A part of me wanted to growl at him, but he retreated quickly, and it's hard to complain when you boyfriend is lying between your legs
eating you out.
Especially when they're so good at it.
I was soon gasping and moaning and writhing and pulling against the ropes, arching and grinding up against his tongue and fingers, ready to
explode from the intensity of the heat inside me. And again he pulled back.
“Randyyyyy!” I complained.
He grinned, and left the room. I stared at the open door for long seconds, feeling a sense of confusion and rising indignation. But then he
was back, carrying a small bow. He went to the corner and got one of the candles from the dresser.
I pulled instinctively against the ropes. “What are you doing?” I gulped.
He grinned as he pulled the candle over. “Getting ready to torture you.”
“I don't think so,” I said.
“But what you want doesn't matter any more – slave,” he said sweetly.
I knew if I made a fuss he would have stopped, would have let me go, but I felt a sudden rush of dark heat at the thought that he wouldn't,
that he could do anything he wanted to me and I was helpless to resist.
He began to massage my breasts, then reached down into the bowl he'd brought. I'd ignored it but now looked and saw it contained a number
of ice cubes and the little clawed metal ice tongs if you were feeling dainty about plucking them out of the tray. He picked up the tong and
used it to pick up an ice cube, then traced it slowly up along my ribs on the left. I squealed and arched and writhed and cursed him but he
only chuckled, then brought the ice cube up my ribs again, this time on the right.
“Scream, little slave,” he taunted me.
He snickered and brought the cube down against the top of my left breast, just above the nipple, then began to circle my nipple with it
again and again before placing it directly against my already puckered, hard, cold little button. He rubbed it back and forth as my nipple
and areola got freezing cold, then began to feel sort of numb.
Cold little droplets of water melting off the cube trickled down my breast and down along my ribs, making me squeal and twist even more,
and my curses got more desperate.
He drew the ice cube back a bit, leaning over me.
“Say “I'm a filthy slut and I love to suck cock.”
“Randy is a filthy slut that loves to suck cock!” I yelled.
He snorted and brought the cube down against my other nipple and again I yelled and twisted and arched against the ropes as he froze my
He traced the cube down between my breasts onto my stomach and I yelped and writhed.
“I'm a filthy slut and love to suck cock!” I cried.
He pulled the cube away and his fingers caressed my frozen nipple.
“It's too bad my boyfriend has such a tiny wiener so I can't get my lips around – ahhh! Stop !” I cried as he brought he cube down between
my legs and rubbed it firmly up and down along my pussy.
My hips bucked and jerked and thrashed as he let go with the tongs and actually thrust the cube into my warm pussy! It lay clutched tight
just inside the mouth of my sex, freezing my insides, and he chuckled and bent to lick the outside.
“Take it out! You bastard!”
“Say I'm Randy's little sex slave,” he purred.
He pushed a second ice cube into me, then rubbed a third against my puckered little back opening.
“No! I'm Randy's little sex slave!” I cried. “I'm Randy's little sex slave!”
He drew back the third cube with a grin.
“Take them out!”
“Say I'm Randy's little fuck toy.”
“I'm Randy's little fuck toy!” I groaned.
He chuckled and bent over, then peeled my pussy open and thrust his tongue into me. I moaned as his warm tongue slid along my cold skin.
The ice cubes were melting inside me, liquid trickling down deeper into my pussy as his tongue lapped at my opening.
He rubbed at my clit and I moaned and gasped, for his thumbs were cold and moist, and at first it wasn't a pleasant sensation, but he
sucked the cubes out of me, and then his tongue pumped in and out, and my pussy started to heat up rapidly.
He slid up my body, mouthing and sucking on my cold nipples, and his tongue felt delicious against them so my chest was rising and falling
He straddled my hips then and held the ice tongs down. I cried out as he carefully gripped my nipple between them and pinched it with the
“Say, I'm a blonde bimbo slut and I love cock,” he said, twisting and pulling at my aching nipple.
“I'm a blonde bimbo slut and I love cock!” I moaned.
“Say I'm a nasty lesbian whore and love to lick pussy.”
I said it, moaning as he plucked at the other nipple, then traced the icy cold metal along my ribs.
“You're freezing my nipples, you bastard!”
He put the tongs down and picked up the candle instead, lighting it from a small lighter.
“What are you doing?” I gulped.
“You said you were cold. I'm going to heat you up.”
I bit my lip a little, panting, excited, helpless, watching as he overturned the candle, letting it burn away at itself, then tipped it
carefully over my nipple.
The first droplets pattered down onto the centre of my breast and I moaned weakly, then hissed as the sudden heat burned away. The existing
cold kind of shielded me as the hot wax pattered down, but soon the centre of my breast was burning hot as the wax gripped my flesh and
began to cool. He let hot wax drip down onto my other breast and nipple, too, almost covering it, then traced the candle down to drop hot
wax across my belly and abdomen and even onto my clit!
Finally, he brushed the hardened wax away from my pussy and slid two fingers deep inside me as his thumb stroked against my clit. My body
began to rapidly overheat and a wild, intoxicating sexual passion gripped my mind.
“Beg to come,” he said. “Say please make me come, master!”
“Please make me come, master!” I cried, heat and passion overriding any sense of pride or dignity as I writhed and moaned and thrashed
against the rope.
I came with a long, shuddering, gurgling cry of wonder, my body straining against the ropes, my head thrashing and rolling as the pleasure
burned through my veins and nervous system. It was .. glorious! I bucked and jerked and rolled as an avalanche of sexual heat and passion
swamped my mind and body, putting me into a whole other place, where nothing mattered but the sexual pleasure.
But he wasn't even close to finished.
He got out my vibrator and used that to tease me, got out my dildo and used it together with the vibrator, drove me half crazy, half
exhausted again and again before letting me come with a shattering explosion of released pressure.
And after that, bondage began to play a very big role in our sex lives.