It's around noon on a Friday. I follow him upstairs to his room. The shades are drawn shut giving everything a misty, hazy sort of glow. He locks the door behind us as I place my coat on his chair and my bag on the floor. He comes up behind me and hugs me close to him, his hand curling around my throat. I smile. He's not wasting any time today.
He turns me around to face him and I lay my head on his chest, breathing him in, arms wrapped tightly around him. I am so calm here in his arms, so at home.
He gently disentangles me and guides me to my knees. I grin, gladly expecting his cock in my mouth but he walks away. I'm disappointed but I stay where he leaves me. He walks over to his closet and my anticipation builds. I know what's in that closet -- or at least, I know some of what's in there...
"Look at me," he orders. I do, with desperate longing. He smiles warmly. "And close your eyes." As I do, he slips a heavy blindfold over them.
"Open your mouth." I wet my lips and open wide, gladly expecting the warmth of his cock. Instead, I feel the cold plastic of a large ball gag as he fastens the strap behind my head. This is new for us! I'm a little nervous but already soaking through with anticipation.
He kneels behind me and whispers, "Today, you will prove you are really mine to do with as I please. Today, you have no voice and no senses beyond what I allow you, what your body feels surrendering to my hands." I quiver, my breath becomes shallow ,excited.
He slips my collar around my neck and secures it with a tug. He puts earplugs into place. I am getting more nervous, unable to see, talk, or hear at this point. He clips my leash to my collar and leads me over to the bed on my hands and knees. I crawl up, awaiting his actions.
He positions me with my face down near the wall, my ass up facing the side of the bed, my legs open, exposed. It's an uncomfortable position, physically and mentally, but I don't move.
He roughly grabs my arms and ties them behind my back, above the elbow, with a strap. It's tight, digging into my skin. I whimper and he kisses my neck, strokes my hair, until the whimpers die down. He doesn't loosen the strap. It hurts but I resolve to be a good girl today. I will take what he gives me and be thankful for it.
He straps my legs in the bent position they are in, and fastens a spreader between them. Ack, I hate that spreader but my discomfort only makes me wetter. I love knowing he has this control over me, that I will let him do anything to me, regardless of how uncomfortable or scared I am.
My anxiety is building stuck in this position with no ability to move, no way to ask him to stop if I need to -- but I trust him. He is good to me. He knows what I can handle and he can read my body. He will stop if I really need him to and I want this, for him to use me as he pleases, to be his perfect slut. It's the only thing I want in the world.
He begins rubbing my clit and I moan with gratitude, gushing wetness into his hands. His learned fingers touch me perfectly, reducing me to a quivering pile on the bed but I must wait for him to tell me I may come and I can't hear him today. I don't know what to do.
His hands feel amazing, as always. Within minutes, I'm on the edge but I won't be bad! I won't come without permission. It's such a struggle but I hold on. I writhe all over, I moan so loudly, my body begging for release, but suddenly, he stops.
