Bound 50

His strong, sure hands strap the soft wrist and ankle cuffs on my willing body. I shiver as I wait to be bound by him for the first time. My wrists have been clipped together, but never has he tied me to the bed like this.

Naked, I lay there and wait quietly, feeling shivers race up and down my body. I feel the ropes pulling my arms up away from my body, then the ones on my ankles spreading my legs wider apart. I am on my back, my bare breasts exposed, my half shaved pussy available and open.

This is what I have dreamed of with him. To trust this much, to know that, even though I am bound, I am utterly safe in his care. I feel my nipples puckering in the cool bedroom. The lights are dim, a scented candle burning nearby.

He sits in the chair by the bed, just looking at me. I gaze back, my eyes soft and warm, yet shimmering with excitement. His eyes travel the length of me, examining every inch. I feel the shyness well up, but I know there is nothing I can do to stop his looking at me, not now, as I lay there wrapped in his bonds. I feel the invisible bonds as well, from his heart to mine. They grow ever stronger with each time we are together.

His eyes seem to burn into mine as he stares directly into them. It amazes me how with just a look, he takes me to the place I belong; the place I go as his beloved pet, his sweet angel.

He stands up again, and moves close to me. His hand runs down my body, touching the silken skin. He reaches for a blindfold made of smooth black satin, and he slips it around my head, then pulling it down over my eyes. I feel the welcome darkness surround me. Somehow its easier to submit when I am blindfolded. It removes some of my shyness, my restraint, allowing me to yield more completely.

He leaves the room briefly. I hear his footsteps, then the sound of a special tape we always listen to when he takes possession of my body. I can listen to the tape over and over when he is away, feeling myself slip one notch down into my submission just hearing it, remembering his touch.

Again, I feel him standing close to me. Suddenly, I feel the burning sensation of ice on my puckered nipples, then the icy water dripping down the sides. As he pulls the ice away, the next sound I hear is his lighter, then the scent of a candle. I shiver all over, knowing this is something we have not tried as of yet.

I tremble as I wait for the hot wax to sear my skin. The sweet anticipation is like a drug running through my system. I find myself arching up, offering my breasts to him.

I groan as the first drops hit me. I swear I can hear them sizzle as they land on my bare skin. Little bites of pain as the heat touches me make me moan again. I groan louder as once again the ice is pressed against my nipples. The contrast to the fire and the ice is arousing and intense.

Again and again, he alternates the sensations until my breasts are coated in the white wax. He runs the ice cube around the sensitive underside. I feel the goose bumps race over my entire body.

I feel his hand reach between my open legs, a thick blunt finger probing into me. I blush at how wet I am, knowing he can feel it. There is no hiding from this man.

Both hands then reach for my breasts, breaking and removing the hardened wax from me. I can feel my nipples, rigid and so hard under the wax. He pinches them lightly, and the next sensation is the cold steel of the nipple clamps. He fits them to my throbbing breasts, the clamps squeezing the nipples gently, then harder as he adjusts them. I feel the cold chain that connects them draped on my stomach.

His warm hands begin to massage my body, slowly, exquisitely. Little whimpers are all the sound I can make. I concentrate on the heat of his hands, the strength, the gentleness as they massage me. He is a true study in contrasts to me. Sometimes savagely rough with my body, other times sweetly gentle. And all without my saying a word, his knowledge of my body exceeding mine at times.

The first swat on my breasts takes me by surprise. I cry out, then shudder as the pain registers. Again and again, his hands slap them, first one, then the other. When I think I cannot endure one more slap, he moves down to focus between my legs. His perfectly aimed swats on my inner thighs and mound make me squirm on the bed. The tugging on the bonds is incredible. The delicious trapped feeling is overwhelming.

As I writhe for him, he brings me once again to my limit of pain. Just as I am forming my safe word, he stops and begins to massage my shaven lips. It takes my breath away. His fingers probe between them, encountering the slick wetness he has aroused in me. His words of praise and encouragement send me climbing towards sweet release.

The multitude of stimuli pounds through my body. My nipples are throbbing and burning from the clamps, my skin tender and hot from the swats. I can feel my clit hardening and swelling as he massages it slowly. I whimper as he removes his hand.

I hear the gentle buzz of my vibrator. He runs it over my body, making me chase it. My body bucks and arches, trying to maintain contact with it. I hear his soft chuckle, and know that he is enjoying this as much as I am. He knows what I crave.

He slides the humming smooth instrument of pleasure down between my legs, letting it settle between my puffy lips. I arch my hips up, trying to get it directly on my clit. He slowly slides it into me, and holds it there.

"Take what you need," he says in a low voice.

His quiet permission allows me to start to grind my hips against it. I push down, getting the tip to push on that magic spot deep inside me. I groan as I find it. I can feel the orgasm begin to build, spreading out over my body from the contact with the humming

vibrator. My arms are straining at the ropes, my legs rigid from trying to spread wider apart. He holds it firmly against me, then reaches with his other hand to massage circles around my pulsating clit.

I climb higher, higher, reaching now, wanting to cum so badly. He stops.

I shudder and slump on the bed. I feel his warm mouth against my wet heat. He sucks steadily on me, pulling that swollen bud into his mouth. He lifts his head, and tells me to cum.

As his mouth returns to me, it starts. A deep, rolling thundering, orgasm, seemingly ripped from inside me. He shakes his head roughly as he keeps up the pressure, and I buck repeatedly against his mouth. The waves of pure pleasure wash over me, and he relentlessly does not stop.

Twice more he brings me to release, my whole body shaking and trembling. He reaches up and removes the clamps, and I scream. His hands immediately begin to massage them slowly, giving me the exquisite pleasure/pain combination he knows I love. My back arches, pushing them into his hands more.

He makes a final lick at my wetness, then moves up to kiss me, never losing touch with my breasts. His lips and tongue and beard are soaked with the taste of my own juices. He shares them with me, an intimate gesture of sensuality.

As my body begins to calm down, he releases me from the bonds and massages my wrists and ankles. I feel the muscles in my legs and stomach still quivering from the powerful orgasms.

He lays down beside me, cradling me in his strong arms. The peace and contentment spreading through me like honey, I feel limp and boneless in his embrace.

"I love you, Master," I say breathlessly. He kisses the top of my head, and I feel safe, knowing my gift of submission is a cherished part of our relationship. He allows me to rest, knowing there is more to come.

*

Bound by Cathy O'Niel copyright 2009