Pleasure and Pain: First Rope Sex

The rope slides over her skin, the rough texture caressing her wrists until he pulls it tight. She shivers. He loops the jute around itself and her arms are immobilised behind her. She sighs. He continues to bind her arms together; she can feel the tug and slide of the cord around her forearms. Her head drops forward, chin on her chest. His quick, sure movements leave her in no doubt of his command, of the rope, of her, of the situation. Her eyes close.

Eventually he steps back and she hears him murmur 'good, good'. She smiles to herself, kneeling on the bed, revelling in the scratchy texture, the sense of being bound and helpless, the anticipation, and the pleasure he is evincing. It is a heady cocktail. She hears the click of the camera on his phone and draws a sharp breath, imagining what the photos look like. He chuckles. They are for teasing her tomorrow, sending them at random times during the day. Ensuring she stays wet for him, even at work.

Suddenly he shoves her between her shoulders and she falls forward, face and chest against the mattress, arms behind her, arse in the air. 'Yes, present yourself for me' he says and she groans into the bedspread, his approval making her quiver. The click sounds again. Such a vulnerable portrait of her he is taking. She cannot wait to see it. The thought of it makes her squirm.

Gently, his hands rest on her backside, caressing her cheeks briefly. 'These aren't red enough though.' His hands are gone, and she tenses in anticipation. The first slap is delayed... just as she starts to relax he strikes. She yelps. The sting is sharp, quickly followed by another in the same spot. Then caressing fingers. They lift off and a second later the other cheek is spanked twice, then caressed. And so it goes.

Between her moans, the slap of flesh on flesh, and his aroused panting, she can hardly hear his words, 'good girl, that's it, good girl, take it for me'. The bodily sensations of sting and heat and caress combine with the rub of the jute on her arms. She focuses on them and on his words and the sounds of her pleasure. When he stops to rub both palms over her cheeks and thighs, groaning at the burning effects of his ministrations, she knows he won't be able to resist much longer. His self control is slipping.

Sure enough, his fingers slip between her thighs and along her slit. 'So wet,' he purrs, delving a finger deeper into her hot flesh. She whimpers and struggles against the bindings. She has no way to make him give her what she wants so desperately now. He puts his other hand on her bound arms to calm her. 'Shhh, patience,' he whispers. She stills and surrenders to his control, his pacing.

He teases her with his finger, dipping in and out, gliding his finger along and between her wet lips. Her frustrated moans emerge continuously. Finally he rests the tip of his finger on her clit and she almost cries with relief as he presses harder and begins to circle over and around. Her knees spread wider of their own accord and her pelvis tilts up. She hears a satisfied grunt and he croons, 'good girl, opening up for me.'

Her reward is harder, faster rubbing, his fingers flicking over her clit until she cums for him, keening into the bedspread. He thrusts two fingers into her cunt and fucks her with them, overriding her orgasm and sending her into a place of pure responsiveness, overwhelming intensity and no escape. She can't focus on any one sensation - the rope, the fingers, her swollen clit, her still stinging ass. She is a mess of wailing, squirming, wet woman.

Eventually he pulls away and lets her recover. She can sense him checking her bindings, asking her to squeeze his hands with hers. Asking if she wants them taken off. She shakes her head. She never wants them to come off.

Then she feels his considerable cock against her cunt. She moans, 'yes, please, oh yes.' His head spreads her wide and he pushes slowly in, her inner flesh opening for him. The feel of him stretching and filling her is immensely satisfying. He grabs the rope around her arms and asks, 'you ok?' She nods against the mattress and manages to get out a strangled 'yessss' that sounds more like a hiss than a word.

'Good,' he says and pulls on the rope as he starts to fuck her. His cock slides in and out easily on her juices, hitting deeply, then withdrawing, plunging back in, filling her, again and again. Faster, harder. Flesh slapping into wet flesh, his groans, her moans. He pounds into her, his hands gripping her hips now, his hips hitting her bruised arse, his cock hitting deep inside. She is so completely his in this moment, entirely vulnerable to his control.

This thought pushes her over the edge. She cums, gripping his cock tightly, whimpering with the intensity. At some point she realises he has paused, cock buried deep inside her, but not cumming. He pulls out. She slumps down onto the mattress, released.

'You're testing me,' he says as he begins to untie the rope. She turns her head to smile at him, eyes half closed with post orgasm pleasure. He grins back as his deft hands pull the jute through and around and through, releasing her arms. 'Good girl,' he murmurs as he leans in to kiss her, grabbing her hair and making her gasp. He chuckles against her lips. Then he leans over to whisper in her ear, 'don't relax too much just yet.'