Those Baby Blues

It all started with those eyes, those baby blues -- shimmering pale sapphire in the light as she shyly peeked up into his. He imagined her hooded, her eyes the only visible feature, a whirlpool of blue as they switched between glimmers of excitement, flashes of fear and hints of the confusion and denial brought forth by longing boiling deep inside her. He longed to see those eye widen as she was tormented and teased, and for them to vanish as the events of the day brought forth a peaceful slumber.

It was her face that did it, elfish features framed by luscious hair. He examined those porcelain lips, struggling between the desire of leaning forth to steal a taste from their precious form or to see them stretched, a wide red gag causing a slow stream of drool to pool forth down that soft, gentle chin. He imagined the flush in that face as she was objectified and degraded, the various stories she read of bound beauties becoming her own heavenly yet terrifying reality.

It was her shy demeanour that did it, a quiet innocence hiding the kinky desires deep within. He desired to free her from her mental restraints, for shame and denial to be replaced by indulgence and exploration. He wanted to tempt and corrupt her, to pull those fantasies that kept her tossing and turning late into the night, to witness and guide her transformation from innocent princess to obedient fucktoy, her kinky wants and need no longer caged or hidden but helping to control her every moment.

It was her waist that did it, her plain shirt clinging to her small frame. He craved to see the limits of that waist, the embrace of a tightly bound corset pulling forth an hourglass figure from her form, the criss-cross of lacing pulling together to leave her both breathless and yet craving more. The addition of a harness would add further restriction, hard leather contrasting against pale skin, unforgiving and uncaring in its seduction as it racked a chill down her spine and puddle on the floor.

It was her ass that did it, tight pants doing nothing to hide such heavenly globes. He pondered their form -- would be they hot or cool to touch? Would they glow crimson red from the blows of flogger, or wiggle seductively as she wandered across the room? His thoughts dragged deeper, the desire for him to worship more closely almost overwhelming. The seductive tease of his teeth as he took soft, delicate bites, his marks a hint of the debauchery to follow as his eager tongue waited ready for her to sit down on his prone and willing form and commence their fevered seduction.

It was her laugh that did it, a soft tune that brought out the softer sides of his desires. He craved to learn more on her wants and needs, her hopes and dreams, joys and comforts in the hope of bringing out more of that melody of joy. He needed to hear what other sounds such sweet lips could produce, subtle secrets only hinted at in the dark of the night. Giggles, moans and groans, none would be hidden, each addition twisting and changing the symphony that was their desires, the begging whisper on her lips a signal of the crashing crescendo about to pour forth.

It was her feet that did it, clad in simply shiny shoes, her legs honed by years of dancing. He couldn't help but feel such perfection required its own special form of focus. Bondage boots would cling tight, transforming her toned calves into obsidian pillars, the PVC gleaming in the night as the lacing held tighter than any bondage. Her feet were pushed forward by the internal heel, the pressure on the toes increasing as she tottered across the room, her newly gained height an example of the depths of her desires and willingness to struggle.

It was her crown that did it, a princess in her prime. To be pampered and protected, adored and honoured, her graceful nature hidden a more primal nature. For every princess needs her prince, a second half to support and trust, seduce and tease, poke and deny. For spoiling a princess can bring forth a hidden nature, one unbound by the courtly formalities of the day, a nature born of submission and servitude, pain and pleasure. As soft silks and pristine gowns are replaced with locked restraints and indecent creations, she embraces a need that only her prince can bring, transforming them both into bondage royalty for all to admire and desire.

But it all started with those eyes, those baby blues.