I could tell he had a Dom side. I could feel it teasing me, hiding under the surface of his recently reddened ass. I've asked him to take charge before, but he hasn't really felt comfortable assuming that role. I've told him what I like as well as what I want, hoping it would ease his thinking. I've given him an open invitation to play with me if he ever feels comfortable with it.
Having never experienced his more domineering side, I was frightened when I woke up to my wrists being bound above my head. I had started to struggle and realized my legs were spread eagle, each ankle bound to the respective leg of my bed.
I remember being able to say, "Get off of me!" before a hand came down over my mouth.
My ears struggled for any sound that would identify this man. It was pitch black in my room, no nearby streetlights to offer any ray of light. I could only make out the outline of him hovering over my bound body. He didn't seem to be a huge man and appeared quite slender. However, I learned that his appearance was deceiving when I struggled against him, only to be held firmly in place.
His hand lifted off of my mouth long enough for me to partially scream out, "Heldmmm!" My plea was cut off by something shoved into my mouth, effectively silencing me. The most I could manage now were grunts and animal-like moans. With my voice taken from me, I could feel my eyes starting to water up, fear threatening to overcome my body. Anger coursed through me, fueled by adrenaline. I shook my body this way and that, hoping to loosen the rope that was making me a prisoner in my own bed.
I could hear him laughing, almost in disbelief. I knew it was useless, but I still tried to curse him, telling him to fuck off, running through my entire dictionary of insulting curse words before I fell silent. My chest was heaving from straining against the bounds, my body my own personal enemy at the moment. When he reached down to slip something over my eyes, I was again betrayed by my body, unable to move or escape the definitive blackness behind the blindfold.
I was startled when I felt him sweeping my hair away from the knot. He was being careful to avoid catching any loose strands. The knot tightened slowly but steadily. At long last, the blindfold seemed to meet his standards and his hands released my head. The bed dipped from his weight as he laid next to me. A finger traced along my jawline, pausing in the middle of my chin. Despite the fear, shudders ran down to the tips of my toes. This gentle touch seemed almost familiar.
I could feel his reaction to me, rubbing softly against my thigh. He moaned when I shifted my body away from him, stressing the limits of the restraints around my ankles and wrists. He slid closer and his lips grazed my earlobe. I heard him whisper my name.
"Dusty, it's me."
My gasp of surprise was muted by the gag, but my body quickly lost all tension when I heard my boyfriend's voice. I was able to grunt out something along the lines of
you asshole! before he slid off the bed. I was cut off when he reached into my pant's pocket. Work had been so hectic lately that I was exhausted and fell into bed earlier that evening without changing into my sleeping clothes.
I felt him grab my small pocket knife and pull it out. It wasn't until I felt the cold blade on my shoulder blade that I realized he was using my own knife to cut through the top hem of my blouse. The knife rested on my stomach, and I was unsure of what he was doing until I heard the ripping of fabric. He ripped it to just beneath my breasts. Then, once again, he took the knife and cut through my sleeves. I laid there, with my bra exposed and my shirt in shreds. I knew what was coming this time when I felt him move down towards my feet. I could only groan as he sliced open a pair of designer work slacks and left only a strap of fabric around my waist. My pockets were also intact, I discovered, when he slid the knife back into the left one.
I tried pulling my hips away from his touch, he had frightened me and ruined the most comfortable pair of work slacks I had for no reason. Yet he grabbed hold of my hips and thrust them back to where I had been. I heard rustling under my bed and felt a strap suddenly run across my hips. When I heard the clicking, I realized he had ran ratchet straps, which we had once discussed me using them on him, under the bed, and now over me.
My chin in hand, my head turned to the side, he whispered into my ear, "This is what you want, isn't it? You want me to dominate you? Use you for my own pleasure?"
He released me and I heard his clothing fall to the floor, one piece following the first until, presumably, he was naked. He straddled my chest, I felt the evidence of his nudity resting on my ribs. Taking my breasts and shoving them together, I feel the tip of his dick pressing on them, trying to slip between.
A moan escapes my throat as his rough, calloused hands rub my nipples. He hears me and at once stops playing with them. I feel him lean down again and this time a soft kiss lands on my cheek.
"I'm going to fuck your tits, Dusty. Be a good girl and lay still."
With that, I feel him grab my breasts again and push them together, encasing his now hardened dick. He thrusts, again and again, the tip almost hitting my chin. My breasts please his dick for a few minutes, with him taking advantage of my bounds to slow down, and teasingly slip his dick through, inch by inch, just to speed back up. I try to move, wanting to touch him, only to feel him stop moving completely. He lets go of my breasts and reaches into my pocket again. My bra had been, at that point, still intact. I feel the blade slicing through the front clasp of the bra. My breasts bounce free and my bra falls to my sides uselessly. The knife slides off of the bedside table and clutters to the flloor.
Out of no where, I feel him slap my breast. A sharp pain, mixed with pleasure, runs through me and I take a deep breath.
"Do." Slap! "Not." Slap. "Move!"
I whimper in acknowledgement, but he continues slapping my breasts, more of the strikes targeting the now sensitive nipples. With each blow, I feel my panties getting damp. Thinking back to this morning, I remembered my only clean pair left had been the no-nonsense white briefs. Neil realized that he didn't have my full attention and was quick to remedy that with a sharp pinch to each of my nipples.
My yelp made him chuckle and I could almost see the smile on his face when he asked, "My dear, are my ministrations really not that intriguing?"
I thrashed my head back and forth, but I knew at that point it was too late. I could feel him reaching for something and tried to draw in on myself. But, alas, I could not hide my breasts from him.
"Let's see if this will keep your attention better," he muttered.
He flicked his tongue over my now throbbing nipple. I felt his tongue ring catch and he slowly dragged it across my nipple. His hand crept up the side of my other breast and caught my other nipple between his fingers. My hips raised up as I tried to ride his thigh, and I heard him tsking.
"Ah Dusty, you shouldn't have done that. I told you to lay still earlier. You're not being a very good girl tonight. I'll have to punish you now. And I believe I know exactly what I'll use."
With a flick of his wrist, I knew exactly what he used as well. The 2 inch wide leather whip landed on my breast, my poor nipple the obvious target. He alternated between each breast, taking the sound of my protests in stride.
"Dusty, Dusty, Dusty...you were a naughty girl. Surely you know you deserve this, don't you?"
I tried voicing my agreement, but all that came out was a quiet, "Mmhphmm."
