The chair is not uncomfortable. But it is not a cozy resting place. It has a purpose.
As do I.
I am naked,for the most part, aside from my collar.
Sitting, legs slightly spread, I am bound.
Bonds hold me there.
My ankles.
My knees.
Across the top of my legs.
Across my stomach, around my arms at my bent elbows.
My wrists are bound to my thighs, but my fingers are loose.
One last bond is cinched tightly around my chest.
My breasts are wonderfully aching from the pressure.
A rule is in place...No squirming for pleasure.
I am gagged, though not completely so. The strip of satin fabric,tied at the back of my head, is in my mouth, my teeth, allowing me to bite down.
And a rule is in place...No noise.
This girl is feeling EVERYTHING. Including an immense happy anticipation for the scene I'm being forced to watch.
Him.
And her.
She is new. No less special for that. Just new.
They are naked. Focused on each other.
And free.
Free to touch, moan, move, and writhe together.
His hands are everywhere.
Gently. Then not so gently.
One hand is gripping her hair while his mouth is full of her right breast.
His other hand....fingers are buried in her hip.
The strength...I can see it. The passion and borderline frenzy...just barely kept at bay.
My fingers...free...are clenched tight...fingernails surely leaving half moons in my palms.
Clenching.
Unclenching.
Following the rhythm of his hands on her.
His hands move across her stomach.
Fingers trailing along her ribs.
I bite down hard on the gag...
And trail my fingers up and down the limited range of my thighs.
I can feel how wet my pussy is and all that I crave is touch...
And all I have is my own fingers...touching lightly along my thighs.
She is whimpering with pleasure as he uses his mouth, traveling down...down...down.
To flick his tongue against her clit.
My clit involuntarily reacts in response.
Her hands grab at him...his broad, sexy shoulders...fingers digging into his flesh.
Grasping his head...her hips lifting to meet his mouth.
No squirming....I keep my hips still.
Her legs come together, keeping him in place.
She grinds her hips, guiding him, moaning, gasping.
And I stay still...a good girl...except my fingers.
And my pussy is dripping.
She cums for him
Hard.
Loud.
I stifle my own moans of pleasure...a good girl.
He gives her a moment to catch her breath.
Glances back at me
And licks his lips.
My pussy clenches again, but I stay still.
Watching.
He reaches for her and rolls her over.
Ass in the air.
SMACK.
She and I both flinch.
She gets to squeal.
I am a good girl and stay quiet.
He yanks her hips up, positioning her ass to best receive his flogs, his smacks, his cock.
I can see the mark his hand has just left.
Red against her pale skin.
"Don't move"
The command is for her.
But I am his good girl, and I obey as well..
Watching him prowl, stalk her, flog in hand.
This perspective is new to me. Exciting in a different way.
His laser focus on her body.
His wrist flicking.
The weight of the flog in his hand.
The tension, the excitement, is building in all of us.
He starts to swing the flog.
The breeze it makes as it passes back and forth blows against my skin, my hair.
I have never been so wet.
The strands of the flog make contact with her ass.
Lightly at first, then harder.
Increasing pressure...coverage...sting.
She is pleased...excited...wriggling a little.
So is he.
The tip of his cock is shiny with pre-cum.
"Be still. Now."
She stills. Trying to be a good girl.
I am pleased with her. And so is he.
None of us want him to have to stop.
I can see how red her ass cheeks are getting.
The marks building up....maybe she'll have a bruise or two.
If she's lucky.
I pattern my breathing to his.
Mesmerized by his flogging, her ass, our pleasure.
He pulls back...flogging more lightly with each pass.
