It is odd how much one's senses developed when others were inhibited.
Though I had been blinded by soft satin and left oblivious to all noise due to the wax buds that he had slid into my ears; I felt far more than I had ever imagined was possible.
I will admit it had seemed daunting when he had proposed the idea to me given my lack of experience in such acts—I was what one may say, inexperienced. My trust in him though was complete. He had been nothing but patient, gentle, and kind—outside of the four walls of his bedroom of course.
Now though, I understand why he had wanted me in such a way. Stretched bare against soft satin sheets that caressed each inch of my delicate skin. Both wrists and ankles bound with rope that felt as light as the ribbons I had worn in my hair as a child. I imagined they were red as my sight had been stolen from me before he had bound me. He enjoyed me in red, the stark crimson a burning contrast against my pale alabaster flesh. Whilst I had felt shy, almost intimidated by such a bold colour, his constant appraisal had left me which a renowned sense of confidence.
I could not help but to gasp as his thumbs hooked into the band of my panties, slowly, lazily dragging them down my thighs. The final piece of clothing to be removed, and yet, always the most exciting. It indicated what was to come, even if he did often torment me with teasing fingertips before giving me what I craved most. The fingertips in question found me, grazing against the soft skin of my inner thighs. Not high enough. Not close enough.
I longed to speak. To beg. But he had warned me against it. Had forbidden my sound until he had granted his own permission. Usually I would have found such a demand demeaning, now—I found it enticing. My own challenge to fight the soft whimpers, the pleas for his skin against mine. Patience was a virtue—even if it was a high price to pay for the impending pleasure.
Just a little higher. I pleaded mentally as his thumbs brushed just stray of my inner thigh. Please.
My skin alight at his touch— so responsive. I could feel the growing dampness spreading between my thighs. I was sure he could see it, my legs parted the way they were, an ankle tied to each corner of the bedpost. Even if I'd have wanted to move I doubt I could have. Whilst the rope restraining me was light, it was wound tightly around my limbs, holding me steadily in place in the centre of his bed.
Closer, closer still his touch came. Taunting me with his proximity. Then, suddenly, he found me. Fighting the urge to cry out I tugged my bottom lip inwards holding it firmly between my teeth as his fingers grazed against me. It was near painful how light his touch was against my nub.
"Oh." Shit! Did I say that out loud? Fuck! I did.
My thoughts confirmed as his hand strayed.
No, come back.
I would surely be in trouble now. He'd warned me to stay silent, and yet, so quickly had I caved against his touch. I knew he would be both thrilled and disappointed with me. As much as my disobedience frustrated him; I knew he enjoyed the punishment he would now get to give.
The deafening silence was punishment enough—
Where? Oh...
My mind trailed as his weight shifted. I could picture him retreating, lifting himself from the soft linens. Again, I felt his touch against my thigh.
Wait, that's not him, what...?
SMACK.
I whimpered. The sudden sting of leather against sensitive skin.
SMACK.
Oh Daddy, I'm sorry.
SMACK.
As quickly as I had begun to find the pleasure in the pain of his wrath against me his blows stopped and I felt him fall onto the mattress beside me again.
So soon? That's unlike you.
It wasn't until I felt his touch at my core again that I'd realised why he'd stopped. I was wet. Sure, I'd been wet before, but now I was dripping. I was sure that the juices that have left me would be coating the finger so carefully sliding between the soft folds of my womanhood. Already dripping with desire for him— I was unravelling beneath his touch.
I could imagine the look on his face, the hunger in his eyes and—-hopefully, the growing bulge against his jeans. I wanted to see him, almost as desperately as I craved my own release.
Please.
Almost as if he could hear my silent pleas his pace quickened, his thumb meeting my aching clit in rhythmic circles.
More please.
I lift my hips closer. He obliges, a long finger dipping into me.
Oh...
My body reacts so strongly, so willing to come undone at your touch. I withhold. Some semblance of restraint finding me as I recall your warning.
"Do not come baby girl. Not until I tell you."
"Yes, Daddy." I had replied.
"That's my good pet." His words of praise had left me with a warmth within my belly. Deepened only by the smouldering smirk that accompanied it. I found that expression insatiably sexy. The warmth of his dark gaze upon me. Green eyes capturing my own hazel hues. He was a rugged man, worn you might say. He had worked for every penny in his life, slowly acquiring the expanse of fortune that he held today. That work had left him both humble and yet, entirely confident in his own abilities. A stark opposite to my own upbringing.
I had been raised by parents that already held their own wealth and though for many that would have left them spoilt, perhaps bratty. I was far too conscious of my own faults. He had found it endearing when we had met at a function, as if already aware of the submission that would become him.
Oh.
The finger inside me had begun to move against me. Slowly sliding into the depths between wet lips before retreating, leaving me empty at its loss. I thought he would taunt me, reclaiming his finger to continue his slow and tormenting teasing. Instead— I was gifted by its return. He did not stop, the long calloused hand meeting my hips in a pace that matched the circular motions of his thumb against my now throbbing clit. My body quivered, tightening around your finger as I grew closer to my own release.
... Oh God I'm going to... No. No. Don't.
I caught myself just in time. My bottom lip once again caught between my teeth as I fought to withhold the primal instinct urging me to give into my own pleasure.
No.
I heard the slightest of chuckles. Wait. I heard him chuckle. I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, my own restraint, that I had neglected to notice his hand brushing against my hair to withdraw the waxy earbud.
"You've learnt my pet." His voice was low, warm. Though, I detected the slightest tone of disappointed. I suspect that he had expected me to cave at his touch as I had in the past. I knew he loved to punish me, but, as expected, he was not entirely displeased. Warm lips found the tender skin of my neck, a trial of kisses left in its wake.
"Perhaps I'll have to reward you now, hm?" He cooed into my ear. "You may speak, love."
"Thank you, Daddy." I murmured towards the sound of his deep voice.
"You're welcome, baby girl. Tell me, what would you like your reward to be?" Even without my sight I knew that his face bore a cocky grin. He knew that I was often shy, timid in my responses. The radiating innocence of my own sexual minimal experience reflected in my words that followed.
"I want you inside of me. Please."
"Oh? Did you want this inside of you did you?" He queried, his fingertip poking at my ribs.
"No." I shook my head.
"Oh? What is it of mine you want inside of me?" He pried.
"Your cock, Daddy." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"I can't hear you baby."
"I want your cock inside of me please, Daddy." I responded, louder.
"Hmm, we'll have to work on that won't we princess? Maybe you could show me what you want, hm? Actions do speak louder than words don't they?"
