Dicey Cuffed Encounter

He was anxious long before the moment he heard her car in the driveway. She was later than usual and he was sure her delay meant his night was not going to be easy. She was impatient after long days. He shifted nervously, at his desk, in anticipation of Her physical presence.

Quietly slipping off her shoes, She walked into the house, lightly grazed his bare shoulder with the pinky finger of her left hand, and gestured with her eyes to the bedroom. No words were needed.

He got up from his place in front of his computer and walked into the bedroom. She told him he was not to make a sound. He looked into her eyes, smiled, and unzipped his shorts. He was already without a shirt and beads of sweat from the warm, late summer afternoon, and anxiety, began to bead on his chiseled, sun-kissed chest. She wore a simple white sundress that accentuated her long neck and arms and showed off her tan.

As he removed his small amount of existing clothing, She opened the dresser and got out two pairs of handcuffs, a rope, duct tape, a mylar violet flogger, and a pair of dice (one white and one red). She whispered in his left ear that tonight would be difficult and that nobody, even Her, had control of the outcome. He was not to cry out and was to speak only with gratitude and only when specifically asked for comment. He smiled again.

She tossed the two sets of handcuffs on the bed and told him to cuff each wrist to each ankle, right to right and left to left. He first cuffed his left wrist and then reached down to cuff his left ankle to that wrist. It was tight and uncomfortable. He started to protest but one look at Her soft eyes and slightly parted, wet lips made him think it better to simply tolerate the discomfort. He didn't want Her to leave. He cuffed the right wrist to right ankle with more difficulty, but eventually finished the job and found himself in a strange squatting position on the floor at the edge of the bed. She gestured for him to hop up on the bed, which he did with some difficulty. Then, on his back, he looked helplessly up into her warm, but stoic eyes.

She leaned down and whispered again, this time in his right ear. They were going to play a little game. As she explained the rules she guided the rope through the links of each of the handcuffs, attaching his wrists to ankles, and securing the rope with a special knot (he had taught her) through a permanent hook in the ceiling, a bit behind him. This secured his legs and arms helplessly overhead, leaving his ass and balls completely exposed. She duct taped his throbbing penis to his stomach and out of the way.

She picked up the electric flogger and began to softly graze the not-yet-electrified pieces over his ass and slightly quivering balls.

The game was simple. She would roll the dice and the white die would indicate the amount of strokes with the flogger. The red die determined the intensity of the strokes. Any number over 3 on the red die meant that the electrical charge on the flogger would be activated. An initial roll would determine the total number of "reward" rolls.

She rolled the dice for the first time on his stomach. She asked him to say the number out loud. He looked down past his chest and said, "Three and four equals 7. That will be seven 'reward' rolls of the dice." Although She was disappointed with the low number of rolls, She was certain the game could still be fun.

On the first roll She got white four and red two. This meant four strokes at level two intensity. Probably a good warm-up for them both. She took the flogger and promptly delivered two strokes to each hanging sack. He did not have time to prepare, was breathless, but okay.

The next roll was more interesting. The white die was a one, but the red die was a six. She took her time running the flogger up and down his most sensitive of places before she turned on the electricity to the highest setting. He was breathing heavy, stomach and chest heaving, fists clenching, when she brought down the flogger with a perfect strike in the very center of his dual sacks. His ears rang, the room darkened momentarily before his eyes, and his now fully-erect penis twitched straining at the tape matting the soft hairs on his strong stomach.

Before he could recover, She rolled again. Roll three was a white three and red three. She delivered the strikes with little fanfare as he started to enter a dazed subspace. Roll four was similar with a white five and red two. The strikes were quick, calculated, and accurate. He continued to manage to avoid crying out.

Roll five got more interesting. Double sixes. She turned on the flogger to full power and alternated deliberately, left and right, with full, slow breaths between each strike. He struggled helplessly in his bonds, begging her with his eyes for a gag to prevent him from screaming. She asked him if he was happy. He replied, groaning, but with the gratitude expected, "This is all I have ever wanted."

Roll six gave him time to recover with double twos. In his state, he registered the strikes as mere caresses.

For the final roll, She invited him to do the honors. Placing a die in each bound hand, she instructed him to throw the dice onto his stomach. However, She noted that indelicate things could happen if either die rolled off his stomach before She was able to take count. He first rolled the white die with his left hand. It landed squarely between his chest and stomach and was only a four. Easy enough. Then, just as he released the red die with his right hand, She reached down and squeezed his left testicle between her thumb and forefinger. This change in sensation on his already aching scrotum made his stomach clench, his throat open with a guttural moan, and sent the red die tumbling to the ground. She scrutinized him with a disapproving eye roll.

However, instead of launching into him with all of her strength, She placed herself next to him on the bed, scooting as close as possible on his right side, and began lightly kissing his ear and stroking his bound penis. Although he knew this was a set-up of some kind, his body responded and he began leaning into Her affections. His breath was heavy as he softly begged for more. After a few blissful minutes, and without warning, she reached around with her hand and set the flogger, on full power, directly on his scrotum. She secured the handle by the duct tape already in place. The violet wand in flogger form generated continuous sparks through each leather tail. Looking directly in his eyes, She took the handcuff key from a small chain around her neck, and placed it in his mouth. She took a knife off of the dresser and cut the rope. She walked out the bedroom, quietly slipped Her shoes back on, and left.

As he writhed in a slow effort to free himself from his bonds, he was already thinking about tomorrow.