Turnabout 11

She awoke to the caress of the softest silk being slowly wound around her wrists. For a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the sensation as the silk drew her wrist together behind her back. Then, sudden realization had her eyes snap wide open as masculine hands drew the bonds snug and began tying the knot to hold them fast. Too late she tried pulling her hands free only to find they were now bound securely.

"Wha—MMMPH!!" Her attempt to cry out was smothered by the same masculine hands, forcing a wad of silk into her mouth. Before she could spit it back out, the hands wrapped another swath of the same material that bound her hands over her mouth, quickly pulling it tight. She tried to shake the gag off, but the hands were practiced and sure at the task, pulling the sensuous cloth taut over her nose, mouth and chin.

The hands then gripped her chin and turned her head to meet their owner's gaze. It was a pleasant face, with eyes that softly shined with tenderness in the semi-darkness around them. She knew this man. She recognized him from a thousand lonely fantasies she'd entertained in this bed. Her eyes widened in shock.

"Shhh," he murmured. "If you try to scream or cry out, the gag will just force its way deeper into your mouth." He leaned against her, his lips planting a gentle kiss on her lips through the fabric of the gag. The tension in her body left her as she felt the contours of his masculine frame against hers.

Her mind wondered how her imaginary lover could really be here. He wasn't a real person -- just amalgam of the best features of movie stars and other men she'd seen over the years. And yet, each touch and motion, sound and scent were the same as the man she'd created. It wasn't possible, and yet here he was, making her as helpless as in all of her fantasies.

He nuzzled her neck, planting soft, wet kisses accentuated by light teasing touches of his tongue. She felt her body tremble as his strong arms embraced her, holding her against him, her nipples hardening with each passing second. Her questions of how he could be there were rapidly evaporating as the pleasure consumed her senses.

After another kiss on her gag, he moved down her body, running his surprisingly soft hands along her hips, thighs and calves. She heard him murmur pleasurable approval as he explored her curves down to her ankles. There he stopped, and once again she felt the touch of softest silk winding slowly around them -- each ankle individually at first, and then crossed and securely bound together.

Her brow knitted in confusion over the position. The lover she had dreamed would be tethering her ankles to the corners of her bed's footboard by now, leaving her exposed for his lusty attentions. She heard him chuckle softly, as if sensing her tension.

"Tonight," he said, "you will get what you truly have wanted all these long, lonely nights -- helplessness. Tonight, you truly have no control over what happens next." He ran his hands along her thighs and caressed her buttocks. "You have longed for me to do this, and yet even in the fantasies you imagined, you still directed my actions with your desires."

She felt him tie a length of the silk over the one wound around her ankles and make it fast. "Tonight," he said as he worked, "my desires will be satisfied." He drew the length taut and slowly pulled her ankles up toward her back. She felt the silk go around the bonds on her wrists and then the tension as her ankles were tethered to them. She moaned in protest at her predicament, until she felt his hands upon her again, caressing the smooth skin of her arms, back and flanks.

Those hands then found her feet, cradling them at first then slowly massaging them, sending relaxing waves of pleasure through her as he worked. When he finished, she could still feel the tautness of her bonds, but tension of straining against them was gone. He planted a warm, lingering kiss to the top of each before changing position.

He swept aside the tresses of her hair and French-kissed her neck, lingering there. Her breath quickened as the wondrous sensation made her body tingle. She could feel that tingle in her loins as well, her passion slowly mounting with each new touch.

He drew another sash around her elbows, pulling them slightly closer together. As he worked, she probed the knots around her ankles and wrists, finding she could not get a grip on the smooth fabric nor could she get enough leverage to dig her lacquered nails into the knots to loosen them.

He leaned back to admire his handiwork as she squirmed slightly in her bonds. He smiled down at her. "I have bound your limbs and silenced your voice," he said to her. "You belong to me now."

She shook her head and murmured a negative through the gag. "Really?" he mocked as his fingers moved to a tender place behind her left armpit. Realizing his intentions, she squirmed madly in a futile attempt to avoid them. Those fingers found that sensitive spot, beginning to tickle it. She snorted and whined as the gag muffled her uncontrolled laughter, as she contorted madly in her bonds.

The tickling stopped after an agonizing moment or two, and she fought for breath through the gag. He gently pulled the fabric away from her nostrils to help her get her breath back. When her breathing slowed again, he looked her in the eyes. "Do you belong to me or not, my dear?" he asked.

She sagged in her bonds and nodded, feeling the burning blush of shame on her cheeks as she did so. He smiled and gently caressed her cheek. "Shhh," he said tenderly. "No need for that now, although it is so very cute on you."

He slowly rolled her onto her side, and began to kiss and suckle her breasts. At the first touch of his lips and hands, she moaned wantonly, for he knew exactly how she liked it done. He swirled his tongue around each nipple until it was hard with her passion then suckled the breast while cradling it in his hands.

She gripped one of his muscular legs between her smooth and shapely thighs as he worked, feeling his erect manhood pulsing with his heartbeats against her, growing harder with each passing moment. She threw her head back and groaned lustfully through the gag, wanting so desperately to free her hands and legs that she might capture him instead in her embrace and coax him on to the climax she now so desperately wanted.

She felt him pull himself out of the vise of her thighs, only to have his fingers lightly brush her clit, making a slow circle around its edges with an expert yet gentle touch. Her back arched and her hips thrust forward as she made a small cry of surprise through her gag. He continued the motion, feeling her wetness, her desire mounting.

She begged him with her eyes for release, pleading desperately as each new touch and caress drove her that much further to the ragged edge. She wanted to orgasm so very badly now, actively struggling against the silk that secured and silenced her but to no avail. The knots were simple but solid, the silk soft yet unyielding, and his attentions were maddeningly seductive. She found herself wanting release and yet hoping for the pleasure to continue. Her body quaked in anticipation for what promised to be a cataclysmic climax.

She tried to impale herself upon his finger when he slid it inside her, her hips convulsing so hard she felt a joint pop in her shoulder. But he withdrew the finger and caressed her thighs until she had calmed down slightly, then resumed his attention upon her crotch once again.

However, this time around, his lips and tongue found her, greedily lapping up her love juices, and teasing her clit with his lips and gentle nibbles with his teeth. She heaved her hips toward him again, and he responded by forcing his tongue deep inside of her. She cried out against the gag as he plunged his tongue into her again and again, gripping her buttocks to steady her as he pleasured her.

Suddenly, he stopped, prompting a muffled cry of disappointment from her. "Easy, my love," she heard him murmur as he kissed her hip. She felt his fingers on the knots that bound her ankles, working with a hurried, almost desperate speed. Suddenly her ankles were free, his hands caressing her legs, working their way back up to her thighs.

And then he embraced her, his arms cradling her as he plunged his rigid manhood into her. She cried out against the gag as her hips involuntarily rose to meet him, taking as much of him inside as possible. As they coupled to the ancient rhythm of love, he slowly rolled onto his back, guiding her to straddle him. Once there, she began to gyrate upon his shaft, eagerly forcing herself down upon him again and again.

He moaned out his own pleasure as his hips moved in time with hers, grunting softly as he rapidly approached his own peak. He called out her name in just the right way, urging her on as his hands rode her hips and thighs. She retained just enough awareness amidst her own pleasure to feel his excitement, his joy mingling with her own as the finale began -- the last shreds of her control stripped away.

Her hips rocked as she clamped her thighs and knees around him, pinning him there as he pleasured her. The silk was no longer a prison, but a loving, lasting embrace from her lover. The passion surged from her loins in waves, each one washing through her bound body as the climax peaked. Somewhere within the rush, she lost herself, becoming one with the pleasure. And somewhere in the pleasure, she fell into exhausted, contented slumber.

When she came to herself again, the curtains of her bedroom were lit with the morning sun. Several tangled lengths of silk sash lay around her, including a damp, tightly packed mass near her head. She looked around for him, but there was no trace of her lover. "A dream," she said dejectedly to no one, "Just a dream, again."

Hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes, when suddenly she smelled coffee being brewed. Her bedroom door opened and she saw him standing there wearing a loose-fitting silk kimono style robe, holding a tray with toast, coffee cups and a carafe. She smiled at him with watery eyes as he walked toward her, closing the door in his wake.