There's something about perfectly sunny Sunday afternoons. They're the best time to be outside enjoying the fine weather, particularly in the fall, when we know it'll end all too soon. September is the best time, really, because there's still a hint of summer's warmth, with a cool breeze bringing with it the kiss of snow, if you know how to smell it.
And because it's such a wonderful day to be outside, sometimes there's nothing better than sitting indoors watching whatever idiotic program happens to be on television. At the moment, that show was Reno 911. Another bumbling cop show, more intelligent than most but still just TV. Still, I couldn't help but laugh, settled back on the couch and watching the program. Noises from the other room made me turn the volume up. I took another sip of my drink and thought of all the things I should be doing right then. Not doing them was about the most satisfactory thing I could do.
The noises from the other room continued, and I sighed and stretched before standing. It was irritating, but even on a Sunday there were responsibilities that had to be met. I set my glass down—always on a coaster, because she hates it when I put a cold glass on the table—and walked across the hardwood floor to the bedroom. "Do you mind? I'm trying to watch television."
The shades were open wide, letting in the afternoon sun and reflecting perfectly off the white walls. It threw the room into the kind of crystalline view you only get in sunlight, where everything looks warm and alive, even the furniture. It threw into stark relief the lithe frame of the darkhaired woman on the bed, the glaring at me impotently even now and trying desperately to make herself heard around the ballgag clamped in her mouth. Her normally alabaster skin was a mottled red from the effort of hold her head up, and even from the doorway I could see the glimmering wetness where she'd drooled from the corners of her mouth. It trailed down her chin to pool in the hollow of her neck. Her body glistened with sweat and well it should; having both arms and both legs raised, clamped to a spreader bar while you lay on your back, is not conducive to relaxation. Leather cuffs wrapped around both ankles and wrists. They were felt lined, of course. I'm not a monster. I did not want her uncomfortable.
She continued to mumble through her gag and I sighed again in exasperation. "If you're not going to enunciate I don't know why I should listen," I said reproachfully as I stepped forward. It gave me a better few of the coarse hemp rope wrapped Japanese style around her body. A double-length slid first around her throat and then down around her breasts, where it an even eight times around her body. It compressed her breasts slightly and threw them out into stark relief, darkening the skin and making her nipples painfully erect. The rope then wrapped between the soft flesh and down to her groin. I could see very easily, with her legs so obscenely spread open and raised, the sparkling of the glass phallus lodged deep in her pussy. It looked beautiful in the sun, particularly with her juices coating the hard surface. A softer, more flexible plug fills her ass, black silicone two inches in diameter. Stretching my pet's ass is a slow process, but she's deliciously hot and tight when I slide into it, so it's well worth the effort. The fact that she still whimpers when I do so makes it even better.
Her whimpers had masked other noises. Now that I stood next to her I could hear for myself the faint hum of the tiny vibrator the hemp rope held trapped against her clit. It pulsed rhythmically, filling the air with its whisper. I believe it was to this my pet was trying to draw my attention.
