How did I get here? I suppose it doesn't matter now that I'm trussed up like a prize Christmas turkey. The blindfold presses against my eyelids, robbing my sight entirely. I can feel my face sinking against the surface of the bed while you fasten my restraints. My wrists, bound, lie useless above my head. A mound of pillows supports my hips, forcing my ass high in the air - on display, every part of me vulnerable and ready to be used. You finish attending to the ties that keep my ankles spread and take a beat. I assume you're admiring your handiwork. I fidget against my bonds, wondering what you intend to do with me now.
"Very nice. This will do nicely." You lean close to my face and brush my hair away from my blindfolded eyes. I can feel your breath against my cheek. "Get comfortable, I'm going to play with you like this for a long time." You place a short, hard kiss on my mouth but withdraw before I have chance to sink into it, leaving me pouting and wanting more.
You turn your attentions to my lower body. Running your fingers across my flesh, avoiding any of the main attractions. Occasionally, your fingertips will flick tantalisingly close, but never make contact. You trace up and down my thighs, alternating between featherlight strokes and the sharp bite of your fingernails. With my vision cut off, my skin's responses are heightened. I strain frustratedly against my bonds with goosebumps rippling across my skin at your teasing touch, and small gasps escape from my lips when that touch turns harsher through fingernails and playful slaps. You're testing my reactions. What do I want most? What can I handle?
"Do you want to feel good, baby?" You purr in my ear again. This time, your fingers are teasing closer and closer - now caressing the skin of my inner thigh. I nod.
"Are you sure? You don't seem very committed." This time, you graze across my ready lips. A gasp catches in my throat.
"Yes." I make sure to harden my voice this time, to sound decisive and confident. I want you to know how I'm eager to start.
"Good," you respond, continuing to trace over my lips, more purposefully this time. Up and down, following the lines of my body until at last you gently push your finger between the folds and reach my clit, eliciting a rather uncontrolled moan. "Because I'm not letting you go until you've lost count of how many times you've come. "
And with that, you begin stroking my clit with the softest of touches. Barely even touching but drawing from me moan after moan because the build-up and anticipation has primed my body with an eagerness to come. I want to come now, come hard. Your fingertips are not enough for me, these gentle caresses are edging me closer and closer but not fast enough. I start to buck my hips, grind my clit into your hand to encourage you to rub with more urgency. How could you tease me like this? Surely you want it as much as I do? I need you to push me over the edge already and quit dawdling. The pleasure is building along with my moans and I grind my hips with more desperation, but you withdraw your hand.
"No. Not yet."
I was so close, how dare you. In desperation, I try to squeeze my thighs together to finish the job but you effortlessly pull them apart and tut at me disapprovingly.
"So greedy. We've not even started yet. You need to learn some self-control."
I start to protest but you cut me off, "It's okay little girl, I'm here to teach you some patience." Underneath the darkness of my blindfold I roll my eyes. 'Patience?' Really? I can feel my unsatisfied clit pulsing, desperate for some closure.
"Now, for lesson one." I feel you leave the bed and my ears prick to the sound of rummaging. You must be looking in our drawer of toys. Great idea, I think. I don't really care what you pick as long as it can get me off soon.
"What are you doing? Are you fetching something to fuck me with?" I ask eagerly.
"Lesson one," you repeat, with an edge in your voice now, "is to trust me and not ask questions."
I hear you place some objects on the bed and my cunt twitches at the thought of what they might be. I strain my ears, trying to pick up clues of what you're going to do next but I can't hear you moving any more. Are you just looking at me? Me, naked, bound and blindfolded, on my knees with my ass in the air, everything on display for your viewing pleasure - are you staring at me right now? Are you judging my body, planning what you want to do with it or fantasising about what will bring you maximum pleasure? I have to admit the thought of it turned me on. Or are you letting me stew? It suddenly occurs to me you might have left the room. I want to ask you where you are, to check you haven't just left me in this undignified position, but you said not to ask questions. I remember the annoyance in your voice last time I asked one, and I don't want to repeat that and risk not getting off at all.
So I wait.
For too long. It might have only been a few minutes, or 10, or maybe it was an hour. Starved of vision, I have no concept of time. I cycle through frustration, anxiety and electric excitement but eventually the fire in my cunt reduces to embers and I am in the placid dark just.. Waiting.
My senses reignite when I feel you return to the bed.
"Good girl." Your voice sends goosebumps across my skin as you whisper in my ear. The anticipation in my body builds again as I hear the low rumble of a vibrator coming to life. You place it close to my clit and it sends a shiver through me. It's on a low intensity, but I welcome it. An unintended growl escapes me.