I tugged each arm lightly, testing the strength of the ropes. There wasn't much give in them at all. I did the same with my ankles, trying to pull them even just slightly closer together. I had even less luck with those. I felt exposed and vulnerable. My wrists had rope wrapped around them snugly, each one raised above my head and to the sides, tied tightly to the top of the frame of the four poster bed that dominated the room.
My legs were the same, rope wrapped delicately and intricately around my feet and ankles, pulling my legs wide apart, securing them to the feet of the bed. I was facing the headboard, my naked, marked ass to the open room.
Sir was stood behind me, his fingers running over my body, tracing the outline of every cane mark he had left on my body the previous afternoon. Trailing up my sides, along my tightly bound, stretched arms, making me wriggle away from the tickly feeling. Or at least try to wriggle away. A giggle escaped my lips as I tried desperately to contain it. But I couldn't help myself, his feather light touch giving me goosebumps, making me shiver. He took away his touch all too soon. I moaned in need, pushing my ass out as far as my bonds would let me, hoping to entice his hands back. Hanging by the ropes, feeling them digging into my skin as I pushed my body out as far as they would allow.
My eyes are open but heavy with lust. Staring down, hanging my head in shame at my clear need. I caught sight of my breasts, another moan coming from my lips as I remembered the night before. Sir had spent the previous evening torturing my body with pleasure. Using his hands, his cock, his tongue, a beautiful glass dildo, my vibrator and the most pleasurable, torturous toy of them all, the magic wand. I had came so many times, each orgasm coaxed or forced out of my cunt, depending how gentle he was being at the time. He held the wand against my clit, pulling my lips apart to give it undeterred access to my most sensitive spot, watching me jump and writhe from the extreme, almost painful pleasure it gave. He flicked his tongue over my clit, hard flicks laced with soft probing from his warm tongue. His breath hot on my wet pussy. He pushed his fingers deep inside me, curving them upwards just so as he latched onto my clit and sucked and flicked with his entire mouth until I gave him my orgasm.
He laid me on my back at the edge of the bed, holding my legs in the air against his shoulders as he thrust deep into my swollen used pussy, his fingers on my clit, wrenching another orgasm from my exhausted body.
In between orgasms he would sometimes allow me to rest for a short period, turning his attention to elsewhere on my body. His hands and mouth traveling up my body to my tits, biting all up my body, nipping my thighs, my pussy, my stomach and hips between his teeth, making me gasp and wriggle. He continued up my body, licking wherever he bit, soothing the sting. I felt his tongue on the underside of my right breast first before the nip of his teeth. Such a sensitive area of skin, his smile afterwards at my reaction, my back had arched up off the bed, pressing my tit into his mouth further. He continued this way on each breast, nipping so hard at times, I could tell there would be marks left. I was right. As I looked at my breasts now, I could see the clear bruising all over them. Little dark marks dotted all over. I squirmed then, feeling my pussy tighten at the memory and the sight. Recalling how those teeth had felt on my pussy lips, idly wondering if the bruising was the same there too, knowing that there definitely were bite marks interlaced with the cane welts on my thighs.
Sir was watching all this, watching my body squirm, my head hanging with the weight of the memories. A slow blush creeping over my face as I remembered how I had begged him not to stop, little moans audible to him even from his position behind me. My hips were moving back and forth as much as they could in my position, absentmindedly fucking the air as I remembered the previous night.
Sir moved so quietly, circling around from behind until he was next to the bed. I suddenly became aware of what I was doing and how it must look, my eyes flying open and meeting his immediately. His smile said it all, he had noticed everything. That slow blush changed and my face was immediately flushed, my heart rate leapt up and I could feel my hands shaking.
'My oh my, aren't you the little wanton slut today my little sub.'
I closed my eyes in humiliation, not wanting to be faced with that truth.
'Look at me. Look at me as you stand there, as you stand there spread out so invitingly. Look at me as you move your hips, as you imagine being fucked. Do you want something inside you? Would that make it better?'
I open my eyes at his command, watching him as he speaks. My eyes lighting up at his offer of something inside me.
'Yes please sir, please fuck me sir.'
'Beg me and I'll think about it whore.'
I didn't need prompting, 'please please please fuck me sir. Your little slut needs something inside her wet slutty pussy. Please please please sir, I'm begging you, please fuck me sir, please fuck me please. Please sir. Please fuck me sir.'
I dropped my eyes as I finished begging, unable to hold his gaze any longer, feeling too vulnerable beneath his eyes. He moved behind me again, this time right behind me, so close I could feel the warmth from his body on mine.
His lips were so close to my ear as he whispered, 'is this what you would like slut?' As he grazed his fingers along my pussy, the wetness that was there allowing his fingers to glide along my soft pussy lips.
All I could do was moan loudly in affirmation. Trying to press against his light touch to no avail. He kept this up, rubbing his fingers so lightly against me, teasing me with the proximity of his hands to my pussy. He surprised me by pinching my pussy lips between his fingers. Hard.
'Well, my little slut...tough.' And he brought his hand sharply up against my pussy, making me scream out abruptly. The burning sting travelling through my pussy fast. His hand connected with my pussy again, making me feel exactly where he had nipped with his teeth, where the cane had connected so harshly.