Danielle And Jonathan Bound

Jonathan was mildly surprised to discover that Danielle wasn't a control freak in her everyday life. In his experience, the more submissive a woman was in the bedroom, the more controlling she was everywhere else. He remembered one sub who had alphabetized the entire contents of her bedroom, shoes and beauty products included. That had been scary- particularly if he dared to disturb the ordained order of things.

Danielle, however, seemed to exist in a state of perpetual disorganization. It was probably a good thing they hadn't made it to the bed at their first encounter, for, as it turned out, there wasn't actually any space on it. In the few weeks since they'd first met, since that first time, the only thing he'd observed her being particular about was her appearance, and that was more than likely because the only time he'd seen her was out on dates. She'd not been embarrassed by their first encounter, but had insisted that nothing of the kind would happen again until she got to know him better, as she put it,

"You could have been an axe murderer!"

So they'd been dating and following the proper order of things, had some vanilla intimate encounters, but little else. Danielle was the most open person he'd ever met, and they'd discussed everything under the sun, from their first encounter, to what might happen in their next one. The only thing they hadn't talked about was what made her fear so when he became even the slightest touch dominant, despite her assertions that it was what she wanted. All he knew was that she'd experienced something (or someone) that had put her off. She refused to talk about it, and he'd let her be, knowing that pushing would make her distrust him. She'd promised that she needed to sort things out in her head, and that she'd tell him when she was ready.

Now that night had finally arrived- after painfully inching closer and closer to a D/s situation, Danielle had finally ended the game of cat and mouse by unceremoniously presenting him with two black satin bondage ties, grinning, and saying cheekily

"I'm ready."

Those two words had set his heart (among other things) afire.

Now, driving to her house for the big event, it took him a while to identify the unusual churning sensation in his heart. Him, the supremely confident charismatic master type, was nervous? He wasn't willing to think too deeply about why, and for the moment couldn't as he was just pulling up the drive way at Danielle's new house, which was, conveniently, less than ten minutes from his.

He parked and glanced up to see her silhouette in the upstairs bedroom window. He paused for a moment, fingering the satin ties in his pocket, hoping to god that she wouldn't back out.

She met him at the door, and once again he was overwhelmed by her. Her looks, her smell, everything about her made him desire her so powerfully he could barely control it. He did, for the moment, because he recognized the look of fear and anxiety in her face. She tried to smile as she kissed him hello, but it was hard for her. He hugged her and gave her bottom a playful squeeze, in an attempt to relax her, and luckily it produced the right effect, as she giggled and grinned at him. She turned and led him to the dining room.

"I thought we'd have dinner first?" She asked, the anxiety breaking in her voice. He smiled reassuringly, the smile that always managed to cheer her.

"Of course, sweetheart."

He sat down at the table, willing to surrender his control to her when it came to cooking. She was certainly comfortable with her mastery in the kitchen.

They ate, and made small talk, their conversation seemingly under laid by the beating of her anxious heart. He gradually and ever so subtly began to assert his dominance, until by dessert she was perched in his lap, eating sugar coated strawberries from his fingers. She seemed to be responding well, helped by the fact that she'd taken in some Dutch courage in the form of a glass of Baileys after dinner. They finished the strawberries, and encountered a momentous decision disguised as an un-important one. Jonathan offered his fingers, dripping with sugar and strawberry juice, to Danielle to lick clean. She stared at them for a moment, and then glanced up at his face uncertainly as her inclination towards reserve (already considerably weakened) made a last stand against her inherent submissiveness and her sneaking arousal. All of this took only a second, but for him it seemed an age- the drop of juice suspended from his finger tip seemed frozen, as he watched her staring at his face. He almost heard the decision being made, and as he watched she looked down, and then back up at him, out from under her eyelashes. She blinked coyly, licked her lips, then slowly, stunningly leaned forward and clasped his wrist. She brought his glistening fingers to her mouth, and licked at them delicately, growing more eager as she began to savour the sugary taste. He watched her, his arousal growing, and ran his thumb around her mouth, smearing it with juice. He touched the tip to her lips, and after a brief hesitation they parted, and allowed his thumb entry. She sucked at it gently, flicking her tongue over the pad of his fingertip until it was free from syrup. He then had her perform the same service on the rest of his finger, watching her intently every second.

When she finished she looked up at him, and he detected the desire to please him in her eyes. He smiled, more pleased than she could know, and nodded.

"Good, pet."

With that he stood up and took her hand, leading her through the living room and upstairs to the bedroom. He stopped at the door and waved for her to go in before him, watching her as she sat down on the bed. He followed her in and studied her for a moment. She seemed shy, but not overly fearful, so he pulled her back to her feet and into his arms. He kissed her tenderly and stroked her cheek, looking searchingly into her eyes. She pulled back and nodded, trying to overcome her nervousness.

"Relax, sweetheart, I won't hurt you." He told her, and she did as bade, surrendering herself into his embrace, giving in to his soft lips and eager hands. He began to undress her, unbuttoning her shirt and kissing her brassiere encased breasts, then sliding his hands agonizingly slowly down her curved back to cup her denim clad bottom. His hands moved around to her front to unbutton her jeans, and he knelt down to push them down, kissing her hips, and thighs and knees as he went. She stepped out of them, her skin afire, and her breath quickening. He admired her bright pink bra and cheeky French knickers before moving to dispose of them, for after all, deliciously naked couldn't be beaten. Once naked she tensed up, so he took her into his arms again, stroking her tenderly.

"Are you ready?" He asked, and she nodded, unwilling to speak.

He led her back to the bed and bid her lie on it. She lay back and he crouched over her and kissed her, her nudity contrasting sharply with his full attire. He pulled the black satin ties out of his pocket, running them over her body briefly before efficiently blindfolding her with one.

She tilted her head slightly, adjusting to the sudden loss of vision before lying still. He ran his fingertips up her legs, across her smooth belly and over her breasts teasingly, until he reached her arms which he pushed gently above her head. He bond her wrists to the head of the black wrought iron bed, admiring the picture she made, smiling as a barely perceptible shiver ran over her body at the realization of being bound.

She licked her lips and he kissed them, toying with her earlobe as he did. He kissed her again then held his lips bare millimeters from hers, teasing her, smiling as she realized his game and leaned up to meet him. He moved further, grinning, until she strained the full length of her bonds, and paused for a moment to admire the eager way her lips quested for his. He satisfied her once, but only for a second, and then left her begging once more, moving down her body to kiss her breasts and toy with her nipples. He ran one fingernail along the underside of her breast, watching as the corresponding nipple hardened, and then sucked it obligingly. He kissed it, flicking lightly with his tongue until she started to squirm. Satisfied with his tease he left her breasts, sitting back for a moment to admire her bound and blindfolded.

He moved off the bed, leaving her, and began to undress, allowing her anticipation to build by deliberately lingering on each step. She began to tremble and he grinned, deciding that for the moment, she had had enough. He finished undressing quickly and returned to her, rubbing his body against hers. He sat back on his heels, studying her, considering what he might do next. After a moment's pause he ran the back of his fingers across her tummy lightly, knowing she was ticklish there. She wriggled and grinned, trying to squirm away from his hands, which made him decide to be a little less playful. He moved quickly and bit her nipple, gently, for now, but still enough to make her flinch. He treated the rest of her breasts to lighter nips, finally skipping his tongue down to circle her navel. He licked her skin and then concentrated his breath on it, raising goose bumps where he went. She trembled and quaked, chafing her thighs together as his lips moved down her belly. He kissed her hip, and the top of her thigh, watching her begin to writhe and lift her hips towards him. She bit her lip when he spread her legs and kissed the juncture of her thigh, tense with need. He grinned, and stopped.

He waited until her writhing ceased and the furrow of a frown appeared on her brow. When she was completely still and scowling furiously he dived and slid his tongue from the bottom of her cleft to the top in one quick motion. She gasped loudly. He followed the path of his tongue with cool air once more, blowing gently and slowly, licking her inner thigh, and then her pussy lips. He parted them and licked either side of her rosebud clit, testing her wetness with one finger. When he flicked gently at her clit with his tongue he slid his finger into her, arcing it up to massage the spot that he knew made her writhe and whimper. He pressed up gently until she sucked in a harsh breath, her head rolling back on the pillow. He teased her with his tongue while his finger worked, pushing her closer and closer to oblivion. Her pussy clenched tightly around his finger, and her whimpers became moans.

She panted, feeling her pussy throb, her mind reeling at the increased pleasure she gained from feeling helpless, and half stunned at the shameless way she'd silently pleaded for his mouth and tongue. She felt his fingers working inside her, hitting her G-spot with Swiss quartz precision. Her moans escaped from her like she had no control, the piteous noises seeming to come from someone else. When she felt her climax building she closed her eyes behind the blindfold, surrendering to the inevitable explosion Jonathan her Master would wring from her. Her moans grew higher and louder. She gave one last long moan as her pussy twitched and convulsed around Jonathan's expert fingers, and she came. Pleasure rushed through her whole being, and she felt like she was going to pass out. Jonathan lingered a few moments on her tender quim before sliding inexorably back up her body to kiss her. He pulled back for a moment then leaned to whisper hotly into her ear.

"Lick it clean." He told her, and she felt his chin pressed against her lips. A shudder of incredibly submissive pleasure wracked her body, and she licked at his chin without hesitation. Her tongue scratched roughly over his stubble and she moaned, overwhelmed by a sense of being totally his. She savoured the taste of her juices. He smiled and pulled back; immensely pleased as he watched her cheeks flush with mingled humiliation and arousal.

"Did you enjoy that?" He asked and laughed as she flushed furiously. He smiled at her reticence but said nothing, content to let her keep her shyness. For the moment.