The room was simply furnished. A beautiful mahogany, four poster bed covered in red silk sheets took up most of the space as it had been placed in the middle of the room, allowing a person to walk around the bed. A small table stood in one corner topped with a lamp that had been covered by a red scarf, creating both a sense of warmth and mystery. Several candles burned along a ledge. The room smelled of her perfume and her sex, but the smell of their skin pressed together was also noticeable.
He lay on his back in the middle of the bed, completely naked and vulnerable before her. Small beads of sweat dotted his skin, left over from the excitement and energy of bring his mistress to her first orgasm of the evening. She stood beside the bed, looking down on him. She wore lacy, black, thigh high stockings held up by a simple, black garter belt. Her breasts threatened to escape from the ornate black corset that encased them. Her panties, long forgotten, lay on the floor.
She joined him on the bed, kissing him deeply, slowly taking her time to tease his lips and tongue with her own. She moved up, turned around, and shifted a leg over him so that his head, propped up by a pillow, was nestled between her knees, her swollen, pink lips just inches from his wanting mouth, his hands by her ankles. Looking down, she inspected him. She turned to one side and then the other, moving each of his hands so that he was grasping the headboard. "You will keep your hands here," she said in a firm voice. Lowering herself so that he could feel her breath on his belly, she commanded him, "Lick me."
He did not need to be told twice. His tongue eagerly went to work exploring her sensitive folds of skin. His tongue drew slow circles and her heavy breathing turned into gasps and moans. He grasped her hips, seeking to pull her closer.
In an instant, she moved off of him and was standing beside the bed. She shook her head slightly and said, "I told you to keep your hands on the headboard. What am I supposed to do with you when you can't follow such simple instructions?" His eyes pleaded with her, but he knew defending himself would be useless. He had disobeyed her and would have to accept whatever punishment she was deciding on.
Her eyes narrowed and one corner of her mouth almost smiled -- at least, he hoped it was a smile. From the drawer in the table, she removed two black silk scarves and quickly tied each of his hands to a corner post. "There! Maybe now you can behave yourself."
She rejoined him on the bed, but instead of straddling him again, her hands moved to his manhood. It jumped at her touch, filling with blood, and within moments he was hard and throbbing in her hands. She began to stroke him, knowing all of his most sensitive spots. He moaned and lay back. "Look at me," she demanded. He looked deep into her eyes while her hands continued to work on him. His wrists pulled against their bindings and his hips moved though he willed them not to do so. "May I cum, Mistress?" he managed to ask between breaths, "Please."
