It's Saturday afternoon and I've just returned home from my morning workout. Sitting on the front deck sipping hot tea, I smile and watch through the trees as Emily's car turns into my driveway and makes it's way up the hill.
Emily pulls her car up close to the deck and cuts the engine. As she steps out of the car I shamelessly let my eyes drink in the sunlit beauty of her unclad form. The sway of her hips is mesmerizing.
As previously instructed, she approaches my chair without a word and stops on a small Persian carpet placed about a meter from my feet. She pauses briefly and looks at the small backpack she carries before sinking to her knees. Leaning forward slowly, Emily places the bag on the deck between us and then adjusts her position. I watch as she spreads her knees as far apart as she can manage and then folds her arms behind her back.
I take a sip of tea and feel my already hard cock pulse against my belt and jeans. "I am truly blessed," I think and place the tea cup on the table next to me. I take a moment to ponder the divine creature kneeling before me in submission.
Reaching out, I pull the offered backpack up to my lap and open it. The pack appears to contain everything that Emily had been instructed to bring. I take a moment to scan the laminated copy of her STD test results from a local health clinic before zipping the bag closed again. I had shown Emily my copy a few days earlier as an example of how it should be laminated and kept.
My eyes fall back to Emily and follow the graceful lines of her strong legs to the curve of her hip. Inhalation catches my eye and my sight travels across her abdomen and up to her chest, thrust forward. I smile at the thought of testing the sensitivity of the flesh being thrust forward in offering. Our eyes meet hungrily. I examine her inner thighs, spread wide and exposed for my benefit and pleasure. I imagine the slick heat that awaits.
Standing, I place the bag next to the teacup and walk to the center of the deck under the barren arbor's rafters.
"Come here," I say.
Emily stands and approaches. Her eyes had been fixed on me when she arrived. Now her eyes are fixed on the pair of leather suspension cuffs dangling before her.
"Reach up and slip your hands into the cuffs," I instruct.
The cuffs are level with her face. Emily takes a deep breath and reaches up, slipping her hands into the suspension cuffs.
I watch her face and command, "Fasten them."
Emily examines the cuffs for a moment. There is enough slack between them that she is able to tighten the first strap. It is then that she appears to notice that the fastening mechanism is a small metal loop through a hole that won't stay in place on its own. She looks puzzled. I reach up and hang a small padlock through the metal loop. Emily's eyes widen and I smile.
I place a second padlock in her hands and say, "Fasten the other one."
Emily pauses, staring at the padlock. Her mouth opens slightly and she looks nervous. Slowly she adjusts the strap on the second cuff. When the strap is in position, she slips the padlock through the loop. Her eyes are glued to the padlocks holding the straps tight to her wrists, but not as yet clicked shut.
I watch her reaction with delight, savoring this brief moment of delicious tension before saying, "Lock them."
Emily looks at me. I can see fear, but also desire. She looks at my smile, looks into my eyes and looks back up at the locks. Slowly, as if hypnotized, her hands move and I hear a single "click". Emily's mouth opens and she begins to breath more heavily. She stares at the single closed lock. She breathes. Her hands move again. She touches the closed lock. She fondles it - tugs on it lightly as if to prove to herself that it really is closed and secured. Her fingers wrap around the second lock. Emily takes a deep breath.
Click.
I walk to one of the arbor's uprights and unloop the static line from its cleat. I pull down a few inches and Emily's arms straighten over her head a bit more. Emily looks over at me startled, but remains silent. I retie the line to its cleat.
I watch as she pulls downward. She tucks her thumbs into her palm and tries to make her hand thin. She pulls again. The cuffs hold her fast.
I approach Emily from behind and press myself to her. My arms reach around and my hands cup her supple breasts from below, lifting them - supporting them. Emily moans quietly and presses her heavenly ass into my crotch. My lips trace the side of her neck and one hand caresses down. Down away from the erect nipple it had trapped briefly between fingers. Down across Emily's belly. Slower and slower it moves with fingers spreading wide until my hand pauses with the lowest fingers drifting lightly in the sea of pelvic motion. Her ass grinding torturously slow against my rigid cock, straining to be freed from the oppression of slacks. My fingers pressing lightly into the space between her navel and cunt. How is it possible that I actually feel the heat rising?
I whisper into her right ear, "Have you obeyed?"
Emily tries tipping her hips away from my cock attempting to cause my fingers to slip downward and moans, "Yes, Sir. I obeyed. I have not cum."
"Spread your legs," I whisper.
She complies immediately and shifts her feet and thighs apart. She surrounds one of my thighs with her own and presses back. My fingers brush down another inch, just to where I can feel her clitoral hood begin. Emily breathes heavily continuing her slow grind against my thigh.
I step back and Emily whines in protest. Picking up the spreader bar that I had placed nearby, I crouch by her feet and manipulate her ankles into the bar's cuffs. Click. Click. Secured, I walk around to face her and admire the beauty of her predicament.
Reaching around to the back of her head, I take a handful of hair and pull back lightly. Emily gasps. My other hand reaches down and continues from where it left off just below the navel and dips further downward making a slow circle about her clit. Emily gasps and shudders. My fingers continue further down to part, but not sink into, the wet cleft. Emily has her eyes closed and is biting her lip. Her cunt feels like hot butter under my fingers and I drag all the way to the far side and back up again to circle one more time about her clit. Emily's body is trembling.
"Have you ever been flogged or whipped?" I ask, releasing her hair and taking a step back.
"No, Sir," Emily pants in response.
