She lay there, trembling.
The vibe, small and purple, single battery operated had seemed harmless enough when he’d pulled it out of the drawer. He was expecting company, though didn’t want her to feel like he wasn’t thinking about her and caring for her needs.
His words, full of wicked promise and sweet torment rolled through her brain. “On your back, sweet wench, and spread your thighs wide, hands above your head and crossed at the wrists,” he’d said. The glint in his ocean colored eyes had been lustful and filled with sadistic desire.
The vibe, no longer harmless rested against her clit, turned on full. It was held in place by a deep purple velvet rope wrapped around her thighs and up through the crack of her ass. Her wrists were cuffed in his…and hers favorite steel cuffs. There were two keys, one of which he always kept with him and the other dangled above her head on a hook just barely out of her reach.
She squirmed. She wiggled. She struggled to get away from the vibrations. She struggled to get closer to them.
She moaned. She purred. She sighed in frustrated bliss.
She could hear him down the hall in the living room talking with his guest, laughing every now and then. For a brief moment she wondered if he’d forgotten about her, but she quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous. He loved to torture her. He loved to push her right up to the edge of sanity and occasionally, he’d let her go over, catching her just before she hit the ground.
Glancing around the room, she searched for anything to take her thoughts off of the vibrator, anything at all. She was desperate for a focal point, something she could concentrate on, something to make her forget about the orgasm that shimmered just around the bend in her mind.
It would be so good, she told herself. It would feel amazing and she knew that if she just let go and stopped fighting it, that it would erupt within her. She also knew the guilt she would feel and could imagine the disappointment in his eyes when she confessed. And she would confess for she could hide nothing from him.
“So, how’s my little cunt?” She looked over at the door as he walked in. Stopping beside the bed, he reached over and turned the vibe on high causing her to jolt and tug at her restraints. “Is it swollen and wet after that little session?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Y-yes, master,” she blurted out, her need and lust for orgasm beginning to clamor for priority.
“Are you finding it more difficult not to come? I mean, my little slave cunt hasn’t had release for at least two days.”
His conversational tone was driving her mad. “Yes, master.”
“Good,” he said, turning off the vibrator and slipping a long finger up inside her pussy, sliding it in and out slowly. “You are very wet, slave. I’m pleased. You seem to enjoy this little session.”
He slowly pulled the vibe away from her cunt, dragging the very tip against her raw and sensitive clit. Her back arched off the bed and a whimper escaped her lips. With a few minor adjustments, he had the rope re-positioned to nestle snuggly against her wetness.
His lips caressed her forehead. “I have to run to the store, princess,” he said, sliding the wet sex toy inside her mouth and watched intently as she suckled her own juices off of it. Such a kinky little slut she was. He turned away and walked towards the door, then, as though an idea had just struck him turned back to look at her. “By the way, the more you squirm, the tighter the rope becomes.”
She watched as he walked out, the vibrator still in her mouth, rocking her hips upwards, rubbing herself against the rope. She yanked hard on the cuffs, listening to the metal rattle against the metal of the headboard, taunting her with her captivity. Her breathing was starting to become harsh and labored around the fake cock, and drool slipped from between her lips, sliding down her chin.
She let out a tormented sob.
