Stiletto heels crack onto a white tiled floor, as a hand reaches down sliding slowly up the soft fabric of skin coloured stockings. The hand lingers over the stocking's buckle, the diamonds catching the dim smokey light of the room. The woman sighs, her blue eyes stare at the door impatiently. The room is so still, her heavy breath the only sound as her ears strain to hear outside her walls. A second crack on the floor as her body slowly saunters to the sofa. Dark lace robes her body, a smooth hourglass figure visible beneath. The woman catches sight of herself in the full length mirror that dominates one of the walls. She stops, the sofa enticing her, but her reflection too interesting. A third crack as she steps towards herself. Blonde hair tumbles around her shoulders, resting gently against her breasts. She slides a hand across her chest, and the hair moves revealing her small breasts beneath the fabric of her underwear. Her eyes move to her breasts, and slowly they travel further down her body. She's fixated with the top of her legs, the smooth triangle of skin that so many have begged to be able to see.
A hand moves subconsciously to run across her soft lips as she thinks about the company that is yet to join her. Slowly she turns, her shoes barely moving. She holds her breath; the room is still silent. Peering over her left shoulder she slowly bends, the fabric of her underwear stretching over the pale skin of her pert bum cheeks. Red fingernails dig into the skin, the indentations visible to her. A heavy breath escapes as she thinks of this site visible to the man who has yet to join her. A final furtive glance at the door, just in case he was there, watching her quietly. Still alone, the room reverberates with the sound of her shoes as she falls dejectedly to the sofa. She smiles as she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror from a different angle. Timidly, her legs open, and her hand falls between them. Her tongue runs across her upper lip, as her eyes roll in relief. Her body shifts deeper into the sofa, towards her hand, trying to get as close to the pleasure as possible. Gone is the silence of the room, her moans fill the room up, increasing in tempo and volume as her fingers furiously rub against herself.
A bang and the room is silent again. Caught. Fingers frozen against her swollen clit. She knows not to look. Head bowed, she waits for the anger to come. "What the fuck do you think you are doing, slut?" Soft thumps are all she can hear as she knows he nears her. "Is this how you greet your master?" She looks up tentatively at him. "Get on your knees." With a firm but comfortable grip, he grabs her from the sofa, and places her on the floor, bending her over the low sleek black coffee table in the centre of the room. He smooths her hands out flat on the table, and picks up her right hand. Ever so slowly he lifts it towards his face, able to see her sticky wetness still glistening against it. He leans close to her face bringing her fingers with him. "Everything about you belongs to me, doesn't it?" She nods in response. "Sorry, I didn't hear that."
"Yes, master. Everything about me belongs to you."
"Yes, yes it does. So if I haven't given you permission to touch yourself, why have you?" She remains silent, her head bows. His free hand places a finger below her chin, and lifts her face up to look at him. It's tight, as she makes sure the rest of her body remains perfectly still. "Your orgasms are mine." He slips her wet fingers between his lips, and she moans as they look into each other's eyes. A flicker of a smile crosses his face, and she moans again as her fingers slip from the soft touch of his tongue. "You are being a terribly naughty girl tonight, aren't you? Did I give you permission to make a sound?" She shook her head, his hand still lifting her chin so her eyes are focused on him. "Speak."
"No master, you didn't and I'm sorry." He can hear the strain and desire in her voice, he smirks at the yearning blatant within her as he turns on his heel and walks away. From afar, he watches as she stays perfectly still. His cock is slowly throbbing inside his tight trousers, the black shirt tucked inside them. He slowly undoes the first two buttons of his shirt, revealing a triangle of chest hair. He lets a hand run against the feel of his cock straining against his clothes. He allows himself to smirk, as the situation begins to absorb him. The room is silent apart from the sound of her desire. He watches, knowing she won't be able to resist a look back. He starts to count to ten inside his head, and on eight she slowly tries to peek a glimpse behind her, desperate to know his whereabouts.
He purposefully makes the sound of his footsteps deafen the room as he strolls over to her. She's back in her position, face focused on the floor. He stops, a foot behind her exposed bottom. The sight of the lace stretching across her sends a shiver down his spine. He rubs his hands together, and then bends behind her. A second later an explosive clap fills the room, and a red hand print adorns her pale behind. "You deserved that, didn't you, slut?" She nods. "Speak to your master."
"Yes, master, I shouldn't have looked. I know I'm not allowed to move without your permission."
"No, you aren't, my little whore. But is that all you deserve to be punished for?" He grabs her chin and turns it up to face him. The guilt of her activities is written across her face. "Tell your master why and how you've been such a bad girl, before he even gets here."
"I'm sorry, master. I just, I... I couldn't help it. I was trying so hard to wait for you, but I couldn't resist."
"So what happened?" He loves making her blue eyes peer up at him; making her look so innocent in such a filthy situation. The juxtaposition of her in this situation was his secret, whenever he thought about her, he thought about her in this position. All her power gone, entirely in his control, no-one would ever expect that this is what she wanted from him. Whenever he looked into her blue eyes, he could see how much she loved it, how much she needed it and longed for it, and it made his cock stiff. "Lick your lips before you tell me, whore."
He watched, her eyes unblinking with desire as her tongue curled across her top lip, before her bottom lip tucks beneath her teeth. Innocent eyes peer up, begging for forgiveness. "I just, well, I could see myself in the mirror..." He looks from the leather sofa to the mirror, and smiles. He spanks her again, softly, and then picks her up from the floor. He carries her to the sofa, and drops her, she lands with a thud and bounces back, her breasts pushing against him before she finally settled. Her gasps of shock burn through his veins, as he pushes her legs apart forcefully. A small piece of black fabric stands in his way.
"Not crotchless underwear -you break my rules again!" He rips the underwear from her, she squeals in pain as he can see the marks left indented in her skin. He walks away from her, and her eyes follow him desperate for him to return. He watches her chest rise and fall with her eager desire. He walks behind her, and she knows to not peer round. From his back pocket he pulls a satin blindfold, and he slowly slips it over her head. Darkness overcomes her, her senses heighten.
He walks to the bag that he left by the door as he came in. The smell and smoothness of the leather of the bag consumes him as he pulls his secrets from within. Three short metal legs are extended to become three long metal legs that he spreads into a triangle near the sofa. He returns to the bag, peeking over his shoulder to check she hasn't moved. Soft cabled rope is dragged from the bag, and he returns to her. She can tell he's close, and her breathing quickens. Slowly he runs his hands across her shoulders, down her arms. He lowers his face to her skin, and breathes against her. He watches as the hairs slowly begin to stand on end in response to him, her hips begin to rock gently towards him. He can't resist, and allows himself a quick touch between her legs.
She moans in ecstasy, and he's not surprised, he pulls his fingers away, and smiles as they shine in the light. He rubs them against each other and they slide easily. He tastes her desire before taking her hands and wrapping them up in the rope. "Master?" She whimpers. He bends towards her ear, his beard rubbing against her. She convulses and he grins. Her sensitivity drives him wild, but she has no idea. His cock is straining for her, but he knows it will be all the sweeter once she's begged for it. "I haven't given you permission to speak yet, you naughty little girl." He pulls the rope around her wrists tight and she gasps. He knows that every sense for her is heightened. Every touch, breath, smell is waiting to be devoured by her brain, desperate for a connection with reality again.
He returns to the bag, and pulls out a silver camera. He walks to the tripod, and rests it on top. He silently turns it on, and angles it towards her. It's angled down, able to see her entire body. Her legs are still wide open from when he spread them, her pussy exposed to the world. He can see it dripping with anticipation, and he's barely even touched her. He would have thought a situation like this would have been far too much for him, but since meeting her, it's all he can ever think about. He can take it no more, and he kneels before her. She knows he is close and her breathing quickens. He slides his hands up her legs, both hands slowly climbing at the same time. She pushes her hips closer towards him. Her pussy is so close to his face, his tongue quickly flashes against it. Her moan fills the room. "Put your hands behind your head." He watches as she obeys, her hands rising, the rope forcing her arms to arch in a W shape behind her. "Don't let them move." She moans in response. He looks at the camera behind him and smiles.
His face moves closer to her pussy, and he slips his tongue inside her. She thrusts hard, and he takes his hands and pushes hard on her hips. She's pinned to the sofa, legs splayed. "Don't move, my little whore." He returns to her pussy, pressing his face against her, desperate to consume as much of her as possible. Her body responds, she's wetter than he could ever have expected. He licks it all up, the taste of her swirling inside his mouth. His cock is desperately hard for her. Her moans get louder, as he brings her close to orgasm. He sticks his tongue inside her, and he can feel it tightening; she's desperate to cum for him. He pulls away and she whimpers again in response, pushing her hips towards him again. He looks at the camera, and smiles, waggling a finger at it to show how naughty she has been. He returns his hands to her hips, and in a swift motion, flips her over. Her arse is so close to his face. He kisses the hand print he left there earlier. Her hands are still behind her head, so he takes them, trapping them beneath her.
He walks away from her, loving the idea that she's being filmed immobilised and waiting for his return. From his bag, he pulls a sleek purple plug, a lead attached to its based. He holds it in his hand tightly. He turns it on from the controller in his over hand, and the vibrations fill the room. His eyes are on her as he watches her body tense in anticipation. She thinks she can guess what's coming; her clit is probably throbbing in anticipation of the vibrations she wants. He returns to her, kneeling behind her bottom. He pulls a bottle of lube from his pocket, and drips it between her cheeks. He smiles as her breath quickens, now she knows what's coming and she loves it. He pushes his body close to her, his legs pressed right against hers, but then he remembers the camera behind him. He steps back from her, so the camera can have a clear view. "You know what, slut?" He asks, as he stands and undoes the rope from her wrists.
