She was blindfolded.
Attendants guided her to an unknown room. She guessed it was large, there were many steps between the sound of the opening door and where they stopped but she didn't know for sure. She never knew. Without saying a word to her, they positioned her, their disembodied hands maneuvering her wherever they wanted. The soft fabric of their robes brushed against her, causing goosebumps to ripple up her skin. Her breathing shallowed and nipples hardened.
They set her up in a beautifully lewd display. Her buttocks perched at the edge of an old fashioned wooden chair, they spread her legs open and tied her ankles to either side. The thick red cords scratched her soft skin as they wove it up legs and around the chair, knotting it at her knees. Another cord looped around the seat and wrapped around her waist and hips and tied at the small of her back. They guided her arms behind her and over the back of her chair, forcing her to arch her back slightly and thrust her breasts out. Looping around her arms, they bound her at her wrists and elbows, an intricate braided pattern between them.
At last they fastened a thick leather collar around her neck and attached a quietly chiming chain to a D-Ring in the back and pulled it taut connecting it to a ring under the seat of the chair and forcing her to tilt her head back and thrusting her breasts out even more.
She was left alone, the only sound in the room her quietly hitching breath and the soft creaking of the wooden chair.
She waits for him.
Her breath getting shallower as the collar and chain stretches her neck tightly. Skin tingles and she imagines him watching her, wanting her. Waiting for his firm touch and her first release. Waiting for his desire to take her. She tries to shift her hips in her unconscious want to be filled, unable to move them for the bindings.
The door clicks opens and she hears his first steps into the room. She holds her breath waiting. Always waiting for him. Her body already aroused, heightens her need and she feels the ripple of desire pulse from her clit; her nipples aching in the chill of the room. She strains to hear him move toward her but his steps go silent as he reaches the plush carpet. She whimpers.
She feels his shadow in front her. He's there between her legs, his fingers ghosting over the exposed flesh of her thighs. He grips the seat of the chair, leaning his weight into it making the chair creak. The rough linen of his shirt barely brushes her nipples and they tighten more, beyond an ache and painful now in their need to be touched and caressed.
She smells the mint on his breath as he leans toward her and licks her lips, straining against the collar. She feels the soft exhalation of his laugh as his lips hover over hers. And she feels the lightest touch, his lips barely grazing hers and she moans, the vibration in her throat hardly making a noise. She goes a little lightheaded as the leather presses against her throat cutting her air more as she strain towards him in her desperation. He steps away from her and she arches, flash of light behind her eyes before she collapses back and gasps air into her lungs.
She feels him as he circles her, tracing her skin with his fingertips without fully touching her. Desperate, shallow jerking thrusts of her hips accompany her needy moans. She feels him stand in front of her again, his fingers sliding over her skin in that teasing touch; up her thighs, over her hip, up her chest between her breasts, tracing smaller and smaller circles until he is hovering just over the tips of her pointed nipples. He begins thrumming them in time to her gasps.
