Closet Discipline

Click. Click click click. Click. I could hear his mouse furiously clicking through the closet door, and aside from my own moans and the vibrating hum coming from both holes, it was all I could hear. I squirmed my hands, testing the tautness of the ropes that tied both wrists together to the closet pole just in front of me. My ankles had been bound together too, and standing in the stiletto heels had grown irritating. They had straps that went several times around my ankles underneath the ropes, and there was no way I could take them off and rest my feet. I didn't know how long I'd been in here, but I knew his games usually lasted about an hour.

I heard the door open and suddenly cracks of light came from the sides of my blindfold. A few seconds that felt like hours passed until a hand smacked into my bare ass, hard. I gave a small shriek out from under the ballgag in my mouth.

"What's all this noise? You can't be quiet for ten fucking minutes?" His voice came to me, deep and smooth, a touch of irritation in it. I would grin if I could, but my only option was to remain silent. His hand came up under my ass and pushed against both vibrators, driving them deeper into me. He'd put a plug in my ass and pussy each, then forced me into some sexy underwear to make sure they'd stay in. He knew I couldn't keep them in myself, I got way too wet for that. Sometimes he'd use it against me, but this time he'd had other plans. He'd told me that I needed to be wet for him when he finally wanted me, and had turned the vibrators on high.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back slowly. Putting his mouth right next to my ear, he said in a low, menacing voice, "If I have to come back in here, you're gonna be sorry." The hot breath that came alongside those sultry words made my lips tense and a sharp jolt of arousal went up through my core.

I remained tensed backwards, hands bound to the closet pole in front of me, standing on my aching feet in the sexy heels, the panties my only clothing, breathing slowly in and out, waiting for whatever came next.

"You got me?" He gripped the chain in between the clover clamps attached to my nipples and tugged. I squealed under the gag, a hybrid of yes and oh-my-god. He smacked my ass again and let go of me. I heard the closet door shut again and the tiny cracks of light from the sides of my blindfold disappeared.

My nipples were on fire. He'd put the clamps as close to the tips as he could, knowing they caused more pain there. And he'd chosen the clovers, the ones he knew hurt the worst. I twisted my wrists against each other again, careful not to make a sound. The vibrators inside me buzzed away and I could feel slime pooling in the crotch of my panties and oozing down the inside of both thighs.

He'd fucked me before putting me here. Or, well, I'd fucked him, but I was here because I hadn't fucked him well enough. We'd gone snowboarding the day before, so my thighs and calves were sore and less than compliant to my will. He was on the floor and he'd had me ride on top of him, gagged and with my wrists bound behind my back. I had to fit all eight and a half inches inside every time I came down on him, and had to remove all but the head every time I rose up. He wanted me to fuck him fast, and if I did a good job, well, he said I'd see. He never told me what my reward would be. I never would have found out, anyway, so I guess it didn't matter.

My legs weren't up to the task of fucking him like he wanted, so he'd plugged me, clamped me, tied me in the walk-in closet, and left me with a promise to fuck me in the ass when his game was over.

I bent at the waist a little and brought my sore nipples to my bound hands. I pushed a cold finger onto the tip of each nipple, contemplating taking the clamps off myself. I couldn't see or hear well enough to know if he was coming, and I wasn't doing a good job of keeping track of time. I'd be in serious trouble if I took them off and he caught me. I fingered the bottom of the clamps, squeezing them just a little bit to ease some of the pressure. This had been a bad idea, a very, very bad idea. The blood rushed into my nipples and I shrieked under my gag.

The closet door burst open again, and there I was, clamp in hand, but technically still on my nipple. He laughed. I moaned.

"What do you think you're doing, little girl?" I moaned again and started to squirm. "I thought I could trust you. Don't you want to please me?" I nodded, feeling him begin to untie my hands. "Well, my game isn't over yet, but bitch, you're not pleasing me. It's not up to you to decide what you wear and what you don't. I put those on you, they should stay on you until I take them off."

He stretched my hands up to the top-most closet bar, above my head, and lashed them there instead. It was a little too high for me, and so I had to edge up onto my toes. My calves screamed, already stressed out from standing in the heels. He laughed at me again, then started kissing down my neck, up my upper arms, and down my ribs, speaking to me in between kisses. "I didn't want you to be too uncomfortable, but you had to meddle." He moved to my thighs. "Now your ams are going to hurt, and your calves, and your feet." He came up to my face and began kissing up my jaw and around my neck again. "And because you've been so bad, I'm going to play a second game as soon as this one's over." I started to squeal under the gag, but his hand came down hard against my ass. "I don't want to hear a single sound come out of this closet until I come back for you. And then your ass is mine." His fingers gripped into my ass cheeks, and then he was gone.

Click. Click click click. Click.