Rope Suspension for Master

"God, please let there be bondage in heaven"- One of my few coherent thoughts in between each wave of delicious sensation crashing over me. I was helpless to do anything but let them sweep over me again and again - just the way I like it.

He knew that too. Damn bastard! But I wouldn't be satisfied with anything else.

There I hung, slowly spinning - memorizing every tantalizing moment. Every feeling. Every breath. The kisses he left all over my skin as he bound me still tingled and pulsed. Ropes wound around me - my arms, legs, chest - through each space and into every intimate part of me. They held me tightly in their inescapable embrace. My mind drifted back to the lush feeling of the carpet as I patiently awaited my impending fate. The steel ring anchored into the ceiling above me hung as an ominous promise. Now my entire body was suspended from that ring, the beautiful skill of his rope work displaying me like a living display of art. The mirrors of our play space showed me every angle of myself, and I devoured the scene hungrily. "Fuck, I'm hot."

The plush couch behind me where he usually watched me currently sat empty. He would return soon enough. Until then, I delighted myself admiring his work. I traced each rope around my body, each knot and tie fueling my lust more and more. His favorite form of cruelty.

My legs were bound behind me in a frog stance, my thighs tightly bound to my calves and my ankles and toes tied to each other. My hands were clasped behind my back at the wrist and elbows, leaving my arms extended upward as another rope attached them to the ring above me. The chest harness that provided the main support for my body wove through my breasts, beautifully framing them. My hair and large cherry gag connected to both the suspension ring and the ropes at my feet, strongly discouraging any movement of my head at all. My spittle and drool coated my gag, dripping down my chin and chest and pooling on the floor, but the hair and gag ropes stopped from me admiring the sight of my art.

Then the door opened.

Electricity shot through my entire body, my nerves lighting up at the anticipation of his touch. I shuddered and a moan of ecstasy escaped me, letting him know how completely desperate I was. My sex was already soaked and I felt wetness dampening my inner thighs.

"My beautiful pet." His rich voice washed over me, each word magnifying both my desperation for his touch and my fear of it. The groan of the ropes and my small whimpers felt hollow in the moments following the lavishness of his voice. He knew I was his to play with.

He slowly circled me, his eyes roaming every inch of my helpless body. His steps were painfully slow, letting me know just how much I was at the mercy of his whims - and he would take his time. I hated, so much, how he knew every excruciatingly wonderful string to pluck and pull, literally and figuratively. But I never hated it at all. Not when it was him.

His crop began to trace each of my curves. My breasts, hips, thighs, and ass - each brush setting my mind on fire. We both knew he liked my ass pink and plump. But of course I did too. I struggled in my hopeless state, begging him with a wiggle of his favorite target. The crop left stinging marks on my flesh that drove me to the edge of my sanity. His hands roamed where they pleased between strikes, groping, caressing, stroking, spanking. Every inch of me received more glorious attention than I knew I could handle - everything except my desperate, aching sex. There was nothing to writhe against, grind against. There was no way to appease or satiate my ravenous list. Nothing. Just helpless squirming.

He gave the ropes suspending me a gentle pull, starting my body gently swaying again. The ropes protested; tightening, loosening, brushing and pressuring every sensitive aroused area. I cried, begging him over and over again, but the gag turned my cries into muffled groans and incoherent pleading. A finger, a toy, his cock - I craved having something inside me to chase my climax. But still I was denied.

He set a timer off to the side, but made sure I could watch every moment pass.

And we'd set the timer for 2 hours. "Oh fuck."