My Hands Are Tied 1

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his dark eyes sparkling with playful menace. It was the look he always gave her, and it took her breath away every time. When they were in a different setting - just talking or socializing - he was always so polite and charming, almost soft spoken. But then he flipped that switch, when he turned from friend to Dom, and his control spilled over her, enveloping her and making her open to whatever he wanted.

"Yes, sir." She wanted to say "of course", but that wasn't quite the right answer. He insisted that their communication be clear and concise, for everyone's safety. Still, sometimes it was hard to remind herself of that when all she wanted to do was beg for his cock. God, she loved his cock.

He smiled and kissed her nose. "Good. Now, strip." She did, doing her best to seem unselfconscious about it. Not an easy feat when he was way more attractive than she was to her eyes, but he never had any complaints so she rolled with it. Once she was out of her clothes, he kissed her - hard and deep, hand on her throat holding her in place. The fingers of his free hand probed between her legs and found her wet and ready for whatever he wanted to do to her. "Good girl," he murmured as he pulled away and nudged her towards a table.

She looked at him, face open and curious and trusting. His hand guided her right up to it and bent her forward against it. It was heavy and smelled faintly of furniture polish, the wood grain smooth against her cheek. Its height dipped her head slightly downward, her ass on display. "Stay." She did, though she shifted a little to ease the pressure on her lower back. It was hard not to look around to see what was going on, but she didn't.

When he returned, he kicked her legs apart, placing her feet on the outside of the table legs and just far enough apart to make her grip onto the table for balance. A soft whisper slid around her right ankle before a sharp bite nipped her. She tried to flex her foot to make sure he didn't cut off her circulation as he tied her to the table. When he finished with the other leg, he lifted her head up a little before placing her face down on a donut pillow. Then he corralled her arms behind her back. "Clasp your wrists." She did so, and he wove an intricate pattern of knots and rope from elbow to elbow. He slid the long ends down and pushed them under her hips, repeating the loop several times before threading them back up to secure tightly along her wrists.

Unable to help herself, she tested all her bonds. She was well and truly trussed up, helpless in his hands.

His fingers began probing her again, sliding in and out of her pussy before teasing her clit. She moaned and tried to rock her hips against his hand but found herself unable to do so. With a groan, she begged, "Sir...please." How many times had she uttered that exact phrase? But she couldn't help it when he turned her on this much.

So, of course, his fingers withdrew, eliciting a whine from her. He laughed as he took away her pillow, replacing it with his wet digits. She cleaned them off dutifully, her eyes rolling up to his as best she could. When he tired of that game, he sat up on the table, having stripped himself, and shoving her mouth down onto his cock. She sighed - she loved giving him head - and this was where she felt most comfortable. It also made her wetter, as doing what she was supposed to should. This was her place - servicing her master - and it gave her more pleasure than most things in life.

The angle and position of her body made sucking a challenge, and she gagged and choked more than she usually did. But she did the best she could, and the way he stroked her back and hair said he wasn't displeased with her performance. Finally, he pulled away, leaving her gasping for air. He crouched down beside her, his face inches from hers. "You have such a delicious mouth, my little slut." His lips mashed against hers, tongue where his dick had been moments before, hand back around her throat.

WIth a growl, he pulled himself away, got behind her, and practically impaled her with his cock. She cried out, a spike of pleasure and a touch of pain, as he filled her completely. "Hush," he commanded, a light slap on her ass as he stopped moving. "I enjoy your little noises, baby, but keep it down." He began thrusting again, more forcefully this time, and she trembled beneath him.

Soon her moans grew loud again, and again he stopped. He grabbed a handful of her ponytail and yanked her head back. "Do I have to gag you?" His other hand snuck back around her throat and squeezed, tighter than his usual playful ones. Her legs strained as he began slow, deliberate but almost violent strokes inside her. "Or," he hissed in her ear, "should I tell all your friends about what a little whore you are?" She whined at such a threat - none of her friends knew about her lifestyle - and she worried what might happen if word got out at work. "Or maybe I should start recording our little sessions, hmm? Earn us both a little extra money."

Oh, he wouldn't dare! She knew he wouldn't, and yet the threat brought tears to her eyes. And, more embarrassingly, it brought her body right to the brink. "Please," she whispered, arching back against his hips as best she could in her bound state. "Please, sir."

His hands released their grip and he pulled out of her. Those tears spilled over as she was so close. She couldn't even grind against the table at this angle to finish getting off. His hands stroked along her back and legs as they quivered, as if soothing a tired horse. "Not yet, pet. This is part of the fun, remember?" His fingers slid along her slit, coming up to massage her asshole. "And soon, I will take you here. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," she whimpered, daunted by the idea of his ample cock squeezing its way inside her ass but wanting it so badly. That would make her his completely, to use anyway he wanted.

He slapped her backside again. "Good girl." He slid back inside her, and her whimpers began again, though more softly this time. When he pulled back on her ponytail this time, it was to fondle her breasts. "Yes, much better. Go ahead," he encouraged her, his fingers pinching down gently on her nipple, "I want to feel you cum around me."

And so she did, long and hard, an ecstasy down to her core. He never slowed or changed what he was doing, other than to whisper nasty things in her ear that prolonged her pleasure. She slumped in her bonds and his arms, but that only encouraged him to fuck her harder. He did what he wanted with her, and she let him. In the end, she came once more before he finally gripped her hips and thrust one last time. She felt him twitch inside her as she sighed. He rested across her back for a moment before kissing her shoulder. "You're such a good little slut," he praised, "that next time, I'll invite a friend to join us." He stroked her hair. "Would you like that?"

"Yes sir," she managed, "but not as much as I would like to be untied right now."

He laughed and pulled out of her. She felt his cum drip down her leg as he began working the knots around her ankles free. His arm slipped around her waist as he then began on her wrists. When she was completely undone, he guided her to the floor. He massaged her fingers and hands as the feeling began to return. "So good. Now, clean me off and then we'll clean you up." He held her shoulders as he guided her mouth to his still-stiff cock. And all she could think of as she licked him free of their cum was how lucky she was that he found her.