"Can you escape?" she asked.
"I don't want to escape, Mistress."
"That isn't what I asked." Her eyes ran over every part of him, all at her fingertips to use however she pleased. "Can you escape?"
He pulled against the ropes holding him spread eagle in the center of the bed, his elbows and knees bending until they hit the resistance. Her blood ripped through her, her heart throbbing between her legs while she watched him attempt to break free.
"No, Mistress. I can't."
He was exquisite in his helplessness. A body she had imagined touching too many times and now she would use it while it was still hers to have. The past week had been a pleasant foreplay, but now the part of her she had been trying to suppress was screaming through her veins.
She wrapped the thin piece of rope she was holding around her hand, then reached down and grabbed the hem of her dress, pulling it off over her head. She shoved her underwear to the floor then unhooked her bra and let it fall from her chest.
His tongue played against his lips while she approached, then deftly slid over her clit when she lowered herself onto his mouth. His hands made weak attempts at freedom, their jerks and twists intensifying the electricity his mouth was sending through her.
She rotated around and rubbed her nipples down his core, then wrapped her hand around his length, pulling it towards her mouth. His hot breath gasped against her, his tongue momentarily losing its focus when her lips wound around his tip.
Her mouth slid down over him, her tongue and cheeks enveloping him inside their warmth. She wanted him hard, as hard as she could get him. His tongue floundered over her uselessly, unable to maintain giving pleasure as it received pleasure. It was a lesson he needed to learn, but not tonight.
She moved away from his face, rubbing herself down his chest. His knees jerked up, his heels trying to dig into the bed so he could shove himself farther into her mouth. Every desperate movement his body made sent more of her arousal dripping down his skin. She ground her clit into him, sliding herself up and down his sternum.
"Mistress, please let me come," his breathless plea sounded from behind her.
"No." She began wrapping the rope from her hand around the top of his sac. She continued winding it tightly, encasing his orgasm inside the bindings. Once he was thoroughly imprisoned, she took his length into her mouth one more time before sitting up and positioning herself over him.
She turned to face him before sliding him in slowly, watching his eyes follow the sight of himself disappearing inside of her. His width provided a pleasurable stretch, his length a satisfying fullness. She spread her thighs until she covered every last inch then ground down on him, rocking her hips back to grind her clit against him.
She lifted herself back off, grasping him in her hand and rubbing him between her folds. His body pulled at its bonds, trying to take back control. His desperation sent tremors through her, and when she couldn't take denying herself a minute longer she lowered herself onto him again, the feel of him inside of her forcing a groan from her lips.
She shoved her hips forward, the friction making her shiver. His eyes followed the rhythm of her breasts, his fingers curling towards them. She moved her hands to her chest, taunting him as they played against her own skin.
Ripples of heat coursed through her the harder she pounded down onto him. She kept going, craving the tingle shooting through her body every time his length penetrated through her.
He pulled against his bindings, his instinct begging to take command of the thrusting. But the ropes held tight and his motions tore through her, turning the ripples of heat into crashing waves.
She bent down over him and he lifted his head up, his tongue hunting for her own. She pressed her lips to his between gasping breaths, the taste of his mouth calling her back every time she pulled away.
The heat burned straight up her spine and out through her fingertips. Her muscles spasmed and clenched as the orgasm took control of her body. Her breath came out in a loud moan while her hips continued to slam down against his, prolonging the sensation as long as her body would allow. An aftershock hit, the spasms stealing the remaining energy from her fatigued muscles.
"Please, Mistress..." he begged into her ear.
"No," she said, trying to catch her breath.
**************************
He sat on the floor of his room waiting for his mistress to get home from work. He wished she would hurry so he could show her how good a boy he planned to be. Maybe if he was a good boy tonight she would allow him relief from the eternal throbbing her denial caused. Memories of the previous night wouldn't release him from their incessant taunting. He could still feel her grinding into his chest, and had left her scent on himself as long as she would allow.
Though it had been several days, his recent punishment still lingered in his mind and he had no intention of giving her a reason to repeat it- ever. He was still refusing to return the multiple texts from his friends, and had asked his uncle if he could work at ranches they wouldn't be at. He couldn't avoid them forever, but it was easier to try than it was to deal with them.
When he heard the front door open his heart began to pound. He touched his fingers to his neck nervously as her footsteps grew closer.
"Get cleaned up and dressed in something decent," she said, leaning on the doorframe.
"Yes, Mistress." He jumped to his feet to follow her directions. After he showered he stood in front of his closet trying to decide what to wear. His only option for pants was jeans and he pulled on the nicest pair he owned. He grabbed his favorite long sleeved button-up shirt and started putting it on.
"I don't like that shirt. Pick a different one," her voice came from the doorway. Then she turned and walked away.
"Yes, Mistress." He unbuttoned the shirt and threw it on the floor of the closet. He picked through the rest of the shirts that hung there, unsure which one would please her. When he couldn't decide he started to worry he was taking too long. Then his anxiety doubled when he realized by picking the wrong shirt originally he may have missed an opportunity for praise. He began wildly tearing through the closet.
"Why aren't you dressed?" she asked, startling him.
He turned to look at her, his panic paralyzing him. She stared at him for a minute then walked towards the closet. He sat down at her feet and wrapped his arms around her legs, praying she wouldn't scold him. The sound of the hangers scraping against the wooden pole was all he heard.
"Put this one on," she directed, handing a shirt down to him.
"Yes, Mistress," he replied, releasing his hold on her legs to take it from her.
An hour later he was shocked when the limo that had picked them up was pulling into the parking lot of a bowling alley two towns over. He had assumed they were going to the château, though her slacks and t-shirt had hinted otherwise.
He held open one of the double doors at the entrance then followed her inside. Music blared from a jukebox surrounded by people waiting to pay their dollar and pick the next song. He had to yell his shoe size over the sound of the music and the echoing of balls crashing into pins to the woman on the other side of the counter.
A man with dark hair and a goatee approached the counter then stopped next to his mistress, leaning down towards her face. "You ready to get slaughtered?"
He went to step between them, his muscles tensing in anticipation of knocking the man to the ground. But she put her hand on his chest, stopping him.
She leaned in towards the man's ear, lowering her voice. "You have a better chance of Mistress Natalia letting your cock out of its cage tonight and sucking it dry than you do of slaughtering anyone."
