His Place

She'd joined the site after an evening chatting with her friends about the situation. Three women in a similar position in life. One of her friends had more opinions on the subject than she did, dropping hints about possible indiscretions in her relationship with her fairly useless husband, or at least that's how it had appeared. It had suddenly seemed like a perfectly normal thing to want in life after years of feeling like she was slightly warped or worse. Her friend had casually mentioned toys and situations she wasn't even aware of, with her tiptoeing around asking for clarifications without wanting to seem too interested.

It was good to be out again on a regular basis. After years of gradually drifting apart she was now officially a single woman again. She had been for some time although it didn't seem something to shout about. It reality she wasn't looking for another relationship but was enjoying seeing her friends on a regular basis again. Her ex had finally moved out, after years of working away intermittently. They had drifted apart over time, there had been nothing between them for a long time in her mind. Even before he worked away she struggled to maintain enthusiasm for the relationship. Maybe it was being a parent that had taken so much time in their lives. Any adoration and attention she'd previously received from him now seemed to be focused on the children. That wasn't a bad thing, she was fortunate to have a husband who was a good parent. Unfortunately, In the evenings as they settled into watching whatever the most recent series was, she would sit quietly wanting more. Sometimes not so quietly, hints were dropped about the fun they could have, silk scarves were bought, pink fluffy handcuffs...none had made much of an appearance in the bedroom. It just wasn't him.

Instead they sat together, they had gone from feigning interest in each others activities to sitting in silence, often on their phones. She thought perhaps there was a period of time after any relationship where you struggle to come to terms with it ending, and that time period was proportionate to the length of the relationship. She'd come to realise however that in this situation the period of adjustment had happened during the relationship. She'd quite simply given up on it, a long time ago, and she suspected he had too at an even more distant point in time.

She had assumed and hoped that over time it would get better again but as they had more time to themselves they spent it alone more often. She was joining exercise classes, he was renovating a flat he'd taken on as a project. She wasn't aware of a point when her dreams didn't include him any more, but there came a time when she thought about that, and couldn't remember when they did include him. It wasn't him she imagined next to her on the beach on holiday, it wasn't anyone. It was an amicable split, they shared parenting duties, they both seemed to have more time. She wasn't even surprised when it happened, it was just another conversation that had been on the cards for a while.

It was novel to be in her new situation. She could openly discuss it with friends. She could talk about all the things she couldn't before. She'd enquire about men, are they single? What are they like? Often it didn't happen though, when they got together there was so much to discuss, and with louder and more opinionated friends than her she often found herself listening and responding, curious about this new world of hers

Her friends had discussed the site as she quietly noted to memory it for future exploration. Later that night she spent some time looking, creating a membership and marvelling at it all. Joining the site seemed so exciting after an evening out. Unfortunately it seemed the worst idea ever by the next time she logged in. Her cheeky photo of her legs had been liked a lot, which she was initially flattered by. She then read the comments, it had been commented on so many times with often perverted unwanted reviews of her. There were even more messages, mostly from faceless men who were more than happy to send her a picture of their cocks in various states of arousal. And the things they wanted from her, it was so blunt. One line descriptions of various perversions, some even making her feel a little unwell. It was all almost medical in it's openness. She didn't log in again for days.

When she did, it was with the intension of deleting the account. She started, perhaps foolishly, reading the messages again. The same range of almost generic perversions insulted her as she skimmed through. His message was there though. It was an anomaly, it didn't ask for anything, didn't offer anything. It was complimentary without being perverted. It was the first that seemed genuinely kind. She looked at his profile, there was very little information and no photos. She was curious though, and replied a quick but perfunctory thanks for the message. She deleted her photo and removed herself from the search listings, but after the message, she kept the profile. Maybe it was worth considering.

She'd thought about that message the next day, who was he? Was it worth pursuing? She checked again, another message, this time with more details. He was single, divorced, lived in the next city. His message contained questions about her too. She replied with some vague details, not enough to find her on social media by. The rest of the day her thoughts flitted between dark fantasies of him to paranoid ideas about being scammed or worse.

Over the week the messages became more regular. By the next week they had moved from the site to a messaging app at her request. They had swapped photo's, nothing indecent and none was requested. He looked like he took care of himself, she found herself looking at his photo often. They shared some common hobbies, liked similar music. They hadn't discussed in detail why they had joined the site. She had deleted her interests on it after the first message, she wondered if he remembered.

They started calling each other not long after. The conversation flowed really well, there were no awkward silences and he didn't spend the whole time talking about himself. He was flirty at times, but so was she. At some point during a call a few weeks later he surprised her by bringing it up. She was taken aback at first, it had all seemed so normal she had stopped imagining the kinkier reasons they started chatting. He had seen her interests, he relayed them back to her. She was silent, wondering how to respond. He took control of the situation on the call swiftly, politely explaining that if that was where her interests lie she could come over and see if she liked it. She didn't have to say yes now, she didn't have think about anything, she could come over and he would... take control of the situation is how he said it, slowly and clearly. And quickly, as her thoughts raced, the topic changed. They hadn't even met.

They didn't discuss it on the next call, but at the end she suggested meeting the next weekend for lunch. He was prompt, polite and just as chatty and friendly in person. He was taller than she expected, and obviously had a good physique. He didn't spend his time in the gym, but he obviously took care of himself. He was quietly confident, not cocky or showy. She found herself giggling a few times at things he said and feeling a bit silly afterwards. Had she made a good impression? She wondered later, analysing the things she had said. The conversation was comfortable but she had at times felt like a fan meeting a star. It was perhaps that he was better looking than she expected. Maybe it was because it was the first time she'd been on a date in years. That evening he called, with an excuse of making sure she got home OK, putting her at ease again.

Over the next week they chatted again. She found herself thinking of his offer more often. She didn't feel like she could bring it up in conversation. She found herself thinking of it when she should be working, staring out of the window as her mind opened his door and she went inside. Her thoughts drifted to it when she woke up in the night. Towards the end of the week, on the Thursday, he mentioned he would be home all weekend, he was going to be decorating. She was welcome over at any time. His offer still stood. Maybe she would take him up on it, she'd said in a cheeky voice, shivering at the thought. If she did, he'd replied slowly and clearly, she would be allowing him access to that cute bum of hers and he won't be gentle. Did she understand? He'd asked. There was a silence. Almost automatically she'd found herself agreeing before the call ended.

Later she couldn't get the conversation out of her head. She could hear herself responding, almost angry with herself for sounding so weak and lost as she'd replied. The more she thought of it the more she remembered her voice sounding little and afraid. She was excited too, but she would have preferred to be more in control of the situation. Or perhaps she didn't, perhaps this was what she wanted all along. She wanted to discuss it with friends. Not to revel in the exciting detail but to make sure they knew where she would be. She didn't feel unsafe, quite comfortable around him, but letting them know seemed like the right thing to do. And maybe she did want to share the excitement a little. It didn't happen though, she messaged one friend to say she had a date, she was excited. No details were exchanged but at least someone knew where she was.

On the Saturday morning she spent some time in the bath before trying on various outfits. She settled on something flattering before realising it wouldn't be the easiest thing to get out of. She shuddered at the reasoning behind her clothing sources. Once she was ready she paced around the house, thinking of excuses to put off leaving the house. She realised once she did it wasn't far away. She could be undressed again within the hour she thought, giving her goosebumps again. Eventually she talked herself into it. She put on a long coat and checked the mirror again before picking up her bag and leaving.

The door opened. He stood wearing jeans and a t-shirt with some paint splatters on it. He smiled warmly. She was still standing in the cold looking into the hallway of his unknown home. Rather than invite her in he looked her up and down, appraising her. With anyone else this would have been insulting, certainly not a way to greet a visitor. With him however it gave her shivers of anticipation. She stood proudly in the doorway, meeting his gaze. His eyes returned to hers and he smiled again, moving to one side and waving her in.

She walked down the hallway as he closed and locked the door behind her. There were doors leading off to rooms were the curtains were drawn. The smell of paint hung in the air, and dust sheets lay over furniture in what was probably a living room. The radio was playing, he flicked a switch and silence filled the hallway. As she looked around she saw the room at the end of the hall was a bedroom. There was a bedside light on, and a large wooden bed stripped to a single white sheet covering it. As she looked closer she could see ropes on the bed, along with handcuffs and what looked like toys. Was there a whip too, at the side of the bed? Her heart quickened at the sight of it, but he walked around her and closed the door, moving her attention back to him.

He stood back from her, looking at her again in an appraising way. He asked her to put her coat on a hook in the hall, her shoes and bag on the floor underneath. It wasn't a "would you like to..." it was more of an instruction. She complied, feeling more timid now. He asked if she was cold, but it was warm inside. She returned to stand in front of him, looking up at him. "Are you ready to behave yourself for me, to do as I say?" he asked. She nodded hesitantly. "Is that a yes?" he asked again. She confirmed, reminding herself of her weak voice on the phone previously. Despite the warmth inside she felt a shiver and had to stop herself from holding herself. She forced herself to meet his gaze again.

He asked her to undress, there in the hallway. "Here?..." she asked, open mouthed. She looked at the closed bedroom door, looked around the hallway. Surely not here, were the curtains all closed? As she checked she realised she must be thinking about it. She raised a hand to fiddle with the neckline on her dress in a nervous manner. He hadn't responded, watching her reaction. She returned to face him, not making any move to comply.

"I've asked you to undress" he stated again. "You don't have to, but you're not going to have much fun dressed are you?"

"Are you... undressing?" she asked, unsure how to phrase the question.

"I'm not" he said, with a cheeky grin. He folded his arms and stepped backwards. She stood, looking around again. Torn. She had imagined similar situations to this and worse so many times, but right now they seemed so far from her mind. She hadn't been naked in front of anyone for such a long time. It took a massive leap of confidence before she looked back to him. She reached down to her hips and gripped her dress. As she pulled upwards she hesitated, the hem almost revealing her knickers. He was looking at her now with a look of lust and it spurred her on. Quickly she lifted it over her head and bent down placing it on the floor. Strangely she felt more confident standing in her underwear, perhaps it was the look on his face clearly appreciating her. Perhaps she was quietly confident in her curves. She stood before him, meeting his eyes again. He looked at her bra and nodded. She unclipped it, now unsure if she was expected to be making this more erotic. She removed it and placed it next to her dress. His eyes didn't linger on her breasts, looking down to her knickers. She hesitated again, and again he looked up at her and nodded. She hooked her thumbs into them and slipped them down, kicking them off her feet towards her clothes.

She straightened up, more self conscious now she had lost the protection and support of her underwear. She was unsure what she should be doing with her arms as he stood looking her over. Should she be posing? How should she pose? She was vaguely aware she was sucking her tummy in. He asked her to turn around slowly, and she did, almost relieved at having a clear instruction. She felt his eyes on her as she turned away, felt herself flush. As she returned towards him he pulled a blindfold from his pocket and tied it over her eyes, behind her head. He gently adjusted her hair around it. She heard the bedroom door open then felt a firm hand on her upper arm and another on her back. He guided her quite forcefully through the bedroom door. She held her arms in front of her, feeling for obstacles despite knowing there were none.

As she stood in his room the lack of vision heightened her other senses. The air was slightly cooler but not cold. There was a smell of candles, some sort of fruit scented ones but she couldn't quite place it. She was unsure where to put her hands again, but not for long. He held her, hands exploring her. Her hands went to him, he was still dressed but she could feel how solid his arms were, his back too. His touch was surprisingly delicate. She held him and enjoyed the sensations.

He stood back again, and asked her to get on the bed face down, hands behind her head. She knew the bed was in front of her but not how far. Tentatively she explored with her toes, finding the foot of it as her ankle bumped into it. Again she felt awkward as she fumbled forward arms outstretched. Again self conscious as her bum was raised, turning away so he couldn't see her tummy as she bent down. She crawled up the bed, and soon she was face down as instructed. She placed her hands behind her head. He knelt beside her and handcuffed her wrists together.

He left the bed and walked around. She felt firm hands on her ankles as he moved her legs apart. She felt him position himself between her legs again as he knelt down. He lifted one leg onto his lap. She felt his hands on her thigh, and slowly she became aware he was circling them with rope. His touch felt wonderful as he crossed her inner thigh. As the rope circled her, his hands were getting higher. She was aware of how visible her pussy must be, she wondered if it was obvious how aroused she was getting. As he worked his hands were brushing her delicate curls. It didn't seem designed to turn her on but god it was working. Still further he moved, occasionally brushing against her pussy. She felt wet. She signed into the bed.

He stopped and she felt something firm and colder being pushed between the rope and her thigh. It pushed up briefly against her lips then moved away. She could feel it against her thigh still just below. He tightened the ropes and secured them in place. He then swapped to her left leg, repeating the circling action of the ropes getting higher. She felt herself relaxing into the sensations again as his fingers brushed against her. She became so absorbed in them, they were perfect but not quite enough. Was he deliberately teasing her? It didn't matter. She became aware that she was totally under his control at that moment, all she wanted was for him to continue as she lay there with her face against the bed. It was a big difference from when she stood outside the room deciding whether to undress.

It didn't seem as long this time, she didn't know if he was more efficient or she'd lost track of time. Another firm toy was inserted between the ropes and her thigh. Again it brushed upwards between her legs before moving away. Again he tightened the ropes. This time he got off the bed. The gentle touches were gone, replaced with the firmness of the circling rope. She heard him walking around, there were more ropes occasionally brushing against her back and arms. He was doing something on the headboard, then the bottom of the bed. His fingers were again back between her thighs working away at the rope. Her imagination raced, it sounded complicated and she was unsure she was going to enjoy it again.

He knelt back on the bed next to her and uncuffed her wrists. He massaged them before lifting each arm outwards and upwards. More rope was tied around her wrist. He instructed her to keep her arm raised as he moved to the other. Once both arms were tied he adjusted something behind her back as she lay outstretched. She could feel a rope was taught against each thigh moving upwards to the headboard, the ropes on her wrists too were now taught.

He knelt next to her again. He moved his face close to hers. "You need to keep your arms up" he stated "You have 2 vibrators between your legs, I'm going to turn them on. If you lower your arms they will lift to your pussy. I know you want this, but you're not allowed. If you do you will be punished. Do you understand?" She nodded, imagining what she couldn't see. "Good, I'm going to turn them on"

He turned them on. They felt very close to her wet lips as they pressed into her thighs. He applied some lube to allow them to move easily, she felt it run over them cold. The vibrations against her thighs felt amazing. It was constant, unlike the fingers earlier. She found herself getting absorbed in it. She had to remind herself to keep her arms up, it wasn't comfortable. The vibrations distracted her. They moved against the ropes and spread in circles softly around her thighs. The sensation was spreading over her. She found herself willing it upwards towards her. She so wanted those toys against her. She pushed down into the bed, that was vibrating slightly too. It was no better, she was aching for them against her. She wriggled, trying to find a spot they had more effect.

What would happen if she did move? She decided to find out. Slowly she lowered her arms. It wasn't long before the toys were pulled upward towards her pussy. She gasped as they pressed into the outside of her lips each side. She moaned softly but she was aware of his instruction. She waited expectantly, braced for some sort of impact, unable to relax. Nothing happened. The waves of pleasure still washed over her, she couldn't ignore them yet still she was poised expecting something. She wondered if she could tolerate it and keep her arms down to enjoy it despite the punishment. Still nothing happened. Slowly she drifted away, unaware she was moaning softly into the bed. She was totally lost in the sensations, all thoughts of punishment forgotten when the cane hit with a swish through the air and a crack.