She is antsy, pensive; she came home with her thoughts reeling, and she cannot sit still. She needs to be taken out of her mind and put in her skin. No romance. No tenderness. No kiss. Just tie her up, beat her, fuck her, use her.
I tell her to strip, and she begins to argue with me.
Grabbing her by the neck, I say, "That wasn't a request."
"Oh," she replies and gets naked.
I grab her arm and put it behind her, and we begin to walk to the den. She is being mouthy.
"I really don't feel up to this." she says.
Giving her arm a bit of an upward twist, I push her forward.
"This isn't your decision," I say.
We enter the den, "Put your hands behind your back and your nose against the wall."
"But ..."
"Be quiet," I interrupt her.
She places her nose against the wall and her hands behind her back.
"Good girl."
I walk to a cabinet across the room. Unlocking the door, I retrieve the items I will need for this evening. Taking care that she doesn't see them, I lay them out on my desk.
"Turn around and look at me, and don't look around the room."
She turns to look at me.
"Now, crawl over here."
As she begins to crawl, I take my seat on the ottoman.
"Sit," I command as she reaches me.
She sits back with her knees tucked under her.
"Do you want to talk about what is going on in your mind?"
"No," she replies.
"Open your mouth."
She complies. Probing her mouth with my fingers, I feel her slide her tongue around them. Then she shuts her mouth and begins to suck. I pull my cock from my pants, and it replaces my fingers in her mouth. She begins working my cock with her mouth and reaches up to take hold of it.
"No hands. Put them behind your back."
Without warning, I slap her across the face. Shocked, she looks up at me.
"Is your cunt wet?"
With her mouth full, she nods.
I pull my cock away and return it to my pants and stand over her.
This woman, I know well. Her mind. Her body. Each such a prize. Tonight, it is about skin. I want her bound tightly, firmly, physically. With any attempt at movement, she will know she is fettered. She will have no choice but to wander out of her ruminating mind and feel the skin, the pain, the friction, and the impossibility of escape.
Pushing her down onto the ottoman, I straddle her. Facing her feet, I sit on her ass to hold her down. She struggles; however, there is nowhere for her to go. A length of rope is wrapped around her left ankle, knotted, then wrapped around her foot at the arch and knotted there. I repeat the same process on her right ankle and foot. While I secure her feet, she wiggles and squirms and complains that I am tickling her. This is not intentional. However, the hemp rope has little hairs on it that tickle her feet.
With two more lengths of rope, I wrap her legs by securing a rope slightly above each knee, taking care to firmly secure it without cutting off the circulation.
The ottoman is small, maybe 24 inches in diameter, and has five legs. I have positioned her so that one leg is aligned with her face.
To secure her to the ottoman, I affix the ropes just above her knees to the ottoman legs closer to her head with a simple knot that can be quickly adjusted. Then I secure the ropes around her feet to the legs farther back, again with a simple knot for quick adjustments. Secured in this manner, she can kneel but cannot get off the ottoman.
Pushing up from her ass, I stand over her, and she looks up at me.
"Kneel on the ottoman."
She struggles to her knees and then sits back on her legs.
"Good girl."
She smiles shyly and self-consciously looks down.
I walk over to her. Pushing her head into my crotch, I reach down and pinch her nipple until she makes a noise.
"Ooouch."
I wrap a length of rope around her upper torso in order to create a strapless bra. Guiding the rope around her back, I create a figure eight, passing the rope under one breast and then crossing it over the top of other, all the while ensuring that the scratchy hemp brushes against her nipples. After eight wraps, I secure the rope with a knot between her breasts.
The rope does not bind her breasts but accentuates their curves. Her soft skin looks pale next to the tawny rope, and my senses are filled with the scent of her skin and the aroma of the hemp.
Taking two lengths of rope, I secure one to each side of the rope bra. These will serve to hold her torso tight to the ottoman.
Taking her by the neck, I push her face and shoulders down.
"Put your face and shoulders on the edge of the ottoman."
"I don't think I can. It is too small."
While she struggles to comply, I take the ropes attached to the bra and secure them to the to the legs of the ottoman adjacent to her torso.
To secure her in the form that I desire, I tie each of the ropes binding her to the ottoman. I tighten the ropes fastened to her knees so they pull her knees to the edge of the ottoman, then I secure rope between her knees in order to keep them from slipping off.
"That's what I want. Your cunt open for me to use."
With her legs secured, I tie the ropes at her feet to the legs of the ottoman.
"Put your arms behind your back."
I slowly wrench her upper torso towards her legs. With each tug of the rope, she is moved back an inch. A couple of tugs on the right and then a couple of tugs on the left bring her shoulders flat to the ottoman and her torso back as far as possible, I secure the ropes with a good solid knot. Her shoulders are on the ottoman, but her head hangs down. This allows me to use her mouth as I desire, and her ass is high with both holes exposed for use.
The ottoman has wheels, allowing me to spin her around as desired. I take a seat in the chair adjacent to the ottoman and spin her around so she is facing me.
I look at her. "Hi, how are you doing?"
She begins to answer.
"It is rhetorical," I interrupt her. "Give me your left hand."
She raises her hand, and I secure the last piece of rope to it, securing it tightly to the leg directly below her. As I tie the left hand, she raises her right hand in anticipation.
"No. I am going to leave it free. You are going to punish yourself."
I rotate the stool slightly and with my foot, push it into the middle of the room. She yelps.
Secured in this manner, she takes on the form of a high-heeled pump, her head being the toe and her ass and legs the heel. She looks wonderful restrained and under my control.
Getting up from the chair, I straddle her. Reaching down, I give her ass a good squeeze, and she squirms between my legs.
"This will get your mind off things."
I lower my body, pressing into her, and begin to pat her ass lightly, alternating between cheeks. Her skin is cool under my palm. Soon, it begins to warm to my touch, and I go from patting to smacking. With the increased intensity, she begins to struggle against the restraints and me.
Now that her ass is nice and red, I slide a finger into her wet cunt.
"Fuck ..." comes from her.
With her in this position, I am able to probe her pussy deeply. She is wet, hot, and tight. Standing, I move behind her and slide two fingers deep, and I am able grind the pads of my fingers into her g-spot. The spot is swollen under my fingers. With each press, she grinds into my fingers and moans.
"Fuck, I want to come." she says.
I reach down and grab a handful of her hair. "Not yet," I say, and slide a third finger into her tight hole.
I turn the ottoman with my fingers inside her and push her over to the leather chair. As she approaches the chair, she raises her head so it comes to rest on the chair. I step over her and the ottoman and sit down with her head between my legs.
Unbuttoning my pants, I pull out my cock and begin jacking off with a handful of her hair. Pulling her head up by her hair, I lower her onto my hard cock. Her mouth is warm and wet. However, fettered as she is, she can't move much. I pull my cock from her mouth and spin her around.
There in front of me is her beautiful smooth cunt, her lips and clit protruding. I reach between her legs and grasp her hooded clit between my thumb and forefinger. She is wet, and it is difficult to hold her.
"Should I give it a squeeze?"
"No," she replies.
With her words, I squeeze her clit. She moans. Pain? Pleasure? As I release her clit, she moans again. My grasp has moved from her clit to her lips, which I pull and stretch as much as I can.
"Fuck ..."
"Do you want me to eat your cunt?"
"God ... yes!" she exclaims.
"Well, you will need to earn that."
Rising to my feet, I push her away from me and pick up a rattan cane. Sliding the cane along her back as I step in front of her, I brush her face with the cane.
"Stick out your tongue."
I drag the cane across her tongue.
"Wrap your tongue around it."
She does so, and I slowly pull it from her tongue.
"I want to see you cry."
My statement opens her eyes, and she glares at me.
"Please. ... No."
Positioning myself behind her, I slide the cane between her legs, pressing it beside her clit and stroking it as if bowing a violin. On the backstroke, I allow the cane to cross the hood of her clit, and she gasps. Why? Perhaps the pleasure is too intense or perhaps she fears a splinter from the cane, no matter how unlikely. Like all my possessions, the cane is well cared for.
I crack her on the ass with the cane. Not hard, just a quick little smack. She jumps in response, more then the smack warrants. She is a bit surprised. Pulling back the cane, I whip it through the air. She jumps with the sound even though I don't strike her.
With the next whipping sound, I strike her ass harder then before. She yelps.
"Please," she whimpers.
"Please, what?"
"Please don't use the cane on me. I will be good."
"I don't remember saying you weren't good."
And I deliver another strike of the cane. This is a heavier blow, and it leaves a telltale mark across her right cheek.