As you fall into sleep, you have that not uncommon feeling of missing a step and falling. This time, you continue to fall. for what seems like hours, you go down, down, down, with no ground in sight. There is no up, no down, no left or right, there is no anything.
Out of nowhere, you feel a slight tugging at your wrists. Something come to stop your decent? To save you from whatever lies below? You look up, and there around you are three ginormous black birds; silver tipped wings lightly brushing your sides, stirring a breeze to chill your lightly clad body.
You are transfixed, watching these monstrous creatures as they so calmly and quietly pull you through the air from one nothingness to another, when you feel another tug at your wrists. You look to the forward leading birds but they haven't changed. Their speed is the same, their direction, as far as you can tell, is the same, they haven't moved to what seemed at the moment to be up and down. Confused, you relax, again looking at the birds on their steady flight, wondering absently where you might be going. Then you feel it at your ankles, a harder pull than last time, and outward.
Bewildered now, you watch as your legs move apart, the birds moving formation as necessary to continue their flight. There is nothing for a moment, no feeling as you soar through nothingness, and you once more relax into a state of relaxation and carelessness. Then you feel a sharper tug, this now at your waist, and you see nothing, of course, that could be causing it. The tugging continues, and you begin to squirm. Finally the birds look at you, as if to reprimand you, their cold black marble eyes staring into you. You ignore them as the tugging at your waist moves to your chest, and squirm harder, relentlessly trying to pull away from the flock, to free your arms and stop the pulling that has now lifted your back to a slight arch.
"Oh god woman, don't start this now."
You jump at the voice that seems to come from somewhere distant, yet so close. Squirming harder, you feel a sharp slap to your thigh.
"Stop moving dammit."
You cry out at the quickly receding pain, and suddenly realize you're not flying, you're still at home in your bed, right where you know you'd be. you start to sit up- that's when you see the ties, securely pulling your arms and legs to the four corners of your bed, as the birds had flown with you only moments ago. You pull frantically at your bindings, and feel pressure on your shoulders.
"I would stop now if I were you."
You finally look next to the bed, pulling your eyes from the silken rope twisted and twined between your wrists and the bed posts. The lights are dim, but you can still see him fairly well. He is tall, much taller than you; his skin is not dark, but its tan is deceiving in the faint light. He is strong, too strong, you think, as you look from his thick muscular arms to his hard, faintly defined chest and abs. In fact, he looks good, you think, wondering at his dark charcoal eyes and his smile, not there a before but building up now as he sees you watching him. You look away, cursing yourself for encouraging him, but still in awe over his picturesque appearance. Angry at yourself now, you yank at your bonds, pulling this way and that, trying to at least loosen the knots holding you there.
His smile fades, and he pushes down your shoulders, saying quietly, "You will stop pulling, now."
"Fuck you," you say, and you continue to pull at your wrists, forgetting your ankles as he steps closer to you, now standing against the bed, looking down on you.
"Not quite yet, but I will," He says, quietly leaning down to pull another strap from the side of the bed. He tosses it across your chest, then walks to the other side of the bed, finding the other end and taking the first end. He lifts them so they lay across you, just below your elbows, and ties it, pulling it tight enough that you can no longer move your arms. He slaps your thigh again, this time the one closer to him, and whispers, "don't make me do that to your legs, I want you to be able to move.
"What the hell do you want?" you ask, careful not to look at his eyes as you feel them boring into you.
"I would think that's obvious, I want you."
"I'll scream," you say, in almost a whisper, more scared now that your arms are immobile, and he almost smiles.
"Well we can't have that, can we?" He asks, a coy grin passing over his face for no more than a second. He reaches down beside the bed again, and you hear a zipper open. He stands up a moment later, holding something you don't recognize. Slipping the strap behind your head, he plugs your nose to make you open your mouth, tightening it with the solid piece holding your mouth wide open, the strap fixing it solidly in place. You take a breath, about to scream, when he puts his hand over your mouth.
"Oh no, none of that," he whispers. "We can't have you doing that. But that's alright, I can make you stop." That coy smile spreads across his face again, gone in an instant, as he uses his free hand to slowly undo his belt, take off his jeans, and push down his boxers, kicking them off his ankles. He then gets onto the bed, straddling your sides, and removing his hand from your mouth as he replaces it with his huge dick. Only starting to get hard, it's still big enough to fill your mouth, making you breathe through your nose. He is pushing it in and out as he leans over her, hands to either side of your head but far above it, using the angle to push his dick deep in your mouth. You try to make noise, but all it does is give him a slight vibration, and he pushes harder, his cock growing in your mouth, almost too big to fit.
