Turnabout

I looked down at the lengths of rope, lying flaccid in my hand. My mouth was dry and my heart was thumping in my chest. I knew what they felt like - around my wrists, my ankles. Binding my breasts and trapping my legs up and open. Me and these ropes were old friends. Today, they felt like strangers.

I swallowed hard and made my way to the bedroom. He was already there, waiting for me. I eyed his long, lean form, reclined back on the bed. Demin-clad legs crossed at the ankle, arms bare in a tight-fitting black t-shirt and folded up behind his head.

"You look like you're being dragged to an execution," he commented, grinning lazily. "Your execution."

I gazed at him pathetically, hoping he might offer me a way out, but he just kept smiling that self-assured smile. He knew exactly how I was feeling, and he was enjoying it. I waited for him to give me an instruction, bring me into the scene. It took me a few more painful, uncomfortable moments to realise he wasn't going to.

Not tonight.

Feeling less in control than I ever had during any of our other intimate moments - moments which included me being bound and utterly helpless, or blindfolded and deafened, unable to see or hear what was happening around me - I moved more fully into the room.

"Up off the bed," I said. There was no authority in my voice, but he obeyed instantly, that small smirk still twitching at his mouth. "Take... take off your clothes. Slowly."

There. That would take him a few moments, give me a chance to compose myself. I put the ropes down on the end of the bed and folded my arms, watching him. Enjoying the show. I loved his body. It wasn't overly muscular, but everything was defined and I knew first-hand how strong he was. He was pale, chest heavily decorated with hair that ran down his stomach in a line. My gaze followed that trail as he unbuckled his belt - that belt, that I was exquisitely familiar with - and then his jeans. He tugged them down, eyes flicking up to me to see if I was going to comment on his lack of underwear. I didn't. And I took my gaze away as his cock sprang free, pretending disinterest.

Pretending I didn't love how it looked, and how fucking good it felt when it filled me.

"On the bed," I said, gesturing to the wide expanse of mattress.

He put a knee to it and slid on, pausing in the middle on his knees. He was tall enough that it put him above me, standing nervously by the edge as I was. I wanted to craw to him, have him take charge and take me, but that wasn't the plan. I lifted my chin and fixed him with the most adamant look I could manage.

"On your back. Arms and legs spread."

He complied easily. Lazily. A frowned worked its way between my eyes and my lips pursed with the first hint of annoyance. There was no apprehension, none of the excited trepidation that I always felt, turning my body over into his care.

I started with his ankles. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I wanted to stay away from those watchful eyes that always saw too much. Just for a minute more. Focusing on my task, I ran the rope through the rings bolted to the bottom of the bedframe, tying it the way I'd watched countless times when it was me, naked on the bed. Then I wrapped the rope around his ankle, making it as tight as I dared before knotting the end. I eyed his foot for a moment, trapped and unable to escape me. The first hint of wickedness over took me and I ran a fingernail up the arch of his foot. He made a surprised noise and flinched, trying to pull away, but of course he couldn't. Smiling slightly, I did it again. He didn't move this time, but I could see the tension all up his leg, knew he was rigidly holding himself still.

No matter what else I accomplished tonight, I was determined to break him of that.

I tied his second ankle with slightly more confident movements, then moved up the bed by his head. I reached out for his wrist and he grabbed my hand, intertwining out fingers. He made to pull me towards him, guiding my hand to his mouth for a kiss, but I tensed, deliberately pulling back.

"Did I say you could do that?" I asked.

My heart was thundering in my chest now, demanding we leg it before he tumbled me over his knee and reddened my ass for my cheek, but I held my ground. After a moment, in which amusement sparkled behind his eyes, he yielded.

"No," he said, voice a quiet rumble.

"No what?" I snapped.

Oooh, I was living dangerously.

"No, baby," he replied. He stared at me and I stared back. Okay, there was the line, I guessed. It eased something in me to know it.

Looking away from him, I concentrated on binding his wrist, bringing it up above his head and tying him to the circle rings in the headboard before doing the same to the other side. All four limbs securely restrained, I stood back to admire my handiwork. He was stretched out, the bend in his arm emphasising his biceps and I watched as he gave the rope a tug, testing its strength. It didn't give. He was bound...

... but not helpless.

I puckered my brow as I studied him, trying to see what was missing. Perhaps inevitably, my eyes went to his cock. It was already hard, jutting out from his body.

"Maybe we should have got a cage for you," I mused, a hair braver now that he couldn't get up and get me.

He made a choked sound of amusement and I looked at his face, twisted up into a clear expression of in your fucking dreams. He raised a warning eyebrow and I realised what the problem was. Why I didn't feel in control. Because I wasn't. He'd barely said a word but he was still orchestrating things with nothing more than his eyes.

Well, that was easily fixed.

I went to the chest of drawers and slid open the top one. After a moment's fumbling, I found what I was looking for. I moved back to the bed and wound the long, thin strip of black velvet around his eyes, tying it firmly at the back of his head. He was still smiling, the tilt of his lips smugly amused, but already the tight, uncomfortable feeling in my chest had eased.

He wasn't Sir, now. He was a man. One I was allowed to play with however I liked.

Hmmm.

Feeling emboldened, I slipped off my own clothes and walked silently to the other side of the bed before climbing on. His head twitched in my direction, momentarily frowning in confusion, and it was my turn to smirk.

Reaching out, I ran a finger lightly down the centre of his palm, pulling back before his fingers could curl down and capture me. I repeated the caress down the length of his inner forearm and then over the curve of his bicep. He tilted his neck slightly, expecting the trail to continue over his shoulder, into the deliciously sensitive bit at the base of his neck. Instead, I curled my fingers into claws and raked up the side of his torso, nails digging in enough to leave light pink lines.

He grunted, surprised, tried to jerk away, his every muscle tensing. I grinned to myself, waiting until he'd settled back down and exhaled a pleased little huff of breath.

"That was sneaky, baby."

"I didn't say you could talk," I said in response.

He opened his mouth - probably to reprimand me - then shut it again.

"If you can't be quiet, I can always gag you. But I have other uses for your mouth."

Oh, he was definitely going to tell me off this time. Before he could, I leaned forward and licked at his mouth, flicking my tongue over his top lip. He tried to take over, draw me into a deeper kiss, but I was already gone.

This time I raked my nails up his opposite side.

He convulsed, arching up off the bed for a moment, testing the restraints hard enough that the bed frame creaked.

Pleased with myself, I straddled his middle and kissed him properly, making him take my tongue, pushing back when he attempt to wrestle control. Or trying to. When I knew I was about to lose, I lifted my head slightly and bit his bottom lip. Hard. He grunted, twisting his face away and yanking on the ropes holding his arms aloft. They didn't give.

That frustrated him. I could almost see it happen, the set of his jaw, the harsh breaths he was exhaling through his nose. He was getting agitated. Good. Sliding down his body, I blew lightly on his skin, lifting the hairs matting his chest and making goose bumps erupt down those sensitive sides. I couldn't see my marks and more, so I did it again, both sides simultaneously, scarping deeper until it had to hurt. Moving fast, before the sting had time to dissipate, I sucked his cock into my mouth, taking him as deep as I could go, surrounding the head and most of his shaft in heat. I sucked lightly for a moment and then released, blowing on the wetness I'd created, making his cock bobble, searching for more.

"Baby-,"

"Hush," I said.

I sounded much more authoritarian now.

Feeling almost giddy, I hopped off the bed and went back to my top drawer full of goodies. I drew the nipple clamps out noisily, making sure he could hear the scrape of the chain being pulled slowly over the lip of the drawer. When I turned back to him, he'd lifted his head, had an ear cocked in my direction. I grinned, delighted by the hard pinch of his mouth.

"I'm so glad you made me get the decent clamps," I purred as I re-joined him. I remembered him saying those exact words as he tossed my little adjustable clamps in the bin after labelling them all but useless. The new clamps were tighter, gripped harder. And then, of course, there was the pretty little chain that could be tugged on. I found the clamps hard, but it was the chain that really made me whimper and plead.

Whimpering and pleading had never gotten me anywhere.

And, in all honesty, I'd liked that.

But that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy the hell out of this.

Crawling over his chest, I licked and sucked at his right nipple, pulling it into his mouth and rubbing my tongue over it. He bucked slightly, his hips lifting, cock searching but finding nothing but air. I licked one more, slow circle around his nipple then affixed the clamp. He smothered a noise, but he couldn't quite control the shudder that ran over his stomach muscles.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I crooned, kissing his cheek. "Does that hurt?"

I knew just how much it hurt, and I enjoyed tugging the chain - just a little, just enough to make sure the clamp was secure and show him just how it felt - before giving his left nipple the same treatment.

"Now," I said, "Hold this."

I lifted the chain and placed it between his teeth, like he so often did to me. It stretched the links tight, his torso much longer than mine, and he had to drop his chin down to ease the pressure. Even so, I could see the pull on his nipples, the clamps digging into delicate flesh.

I took my time getting the next toy, moving as stealthily as possible. When I turned and saw him, already grimacing slightly as he held his neck at a painful angle to lessen the painful pull, pity and inspiration struck me at the same time. I grabbed my play collar off the top of the dresser and fastened it round my neck. Sir had taken it off me earlier, deliberately and purposefully, but I wasn't putting it back on as his sub. It was part of the game.

And I thought he'd like what I had in mind.

I grabbed the leash, taking care to hide the clink of the chains, and returned to his side with it and the toy. I laid the chain up by his head, within easy reach for later, then leaned in and kissed and sucked at the tendons in his neck, strained and taut. He leaned into my mouth, then made an unhappy noise as the slight shift pulled hard on the far-side clamp. I laughed, moving my kisses up his jaw and then across to his ear, sucking the lobe into my mouth. At the same time, I took the toy and hovered over his left nipple, my finger unerringly going to the ON button.

When the bullet fired up - at maximum speed, just like Sir had it set at for me - and I dropped to his clamped nipple before he could have time to register the familiar buzzing, he jolted like he'd been electrocuted. He twitched and wriggled, trying to get away, but of course he couldn't. I buzzed lightly around in slow circles, then switched sides.

"Don't drop that," I warned, because he was baring his teeth at me, looked in danger of letting the chain slip from his mouth as he all but growled at me. Having mercy on his poor, tormented nipples, I moved my way lower. I ran my nails lightly up the insides of both thighs then grasped his shaft before licking it from root to tip. I swirled my tongue over the top, coating it with saliva, then ran the bullet up the path my tongue had taken. He writhed, clearly not sure whether he wanted to push up into the sensation or try to pull himself away from it. It didn't really matter, since he couldn't do either. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from chuckling about that. Our roles might be reversed right now, but it was only for tonight. Tomorrow, it would be me, bound and helpless. I didn't want to give him too many things to seek retribution for.

Lifting up slightly, I pulled the vibe away and replaced it with my mouth, engulfing him as best I could in warmth and wetness. I gave him a moment to get used to the relief, then released him and went back to the vibe, circling it round the head, tracing the line of his slit, running down his shaft and lightly over his balls. Then back to my mouth again, giving him a moment to relax, before returning to the vibe.

I knew I'd pushed him far enough when his hands were folded into white-knuckle fists and the vein in his temple was throbbing slightly. He was either going to cum or explode, and I wasn't ready for either of those. Lifting the bullet away, I moved up his body until I was balanced over his cock, then I lowered myself in one smooth motion. My head dropped back at the feeling of fulness, the glide of his hardness against slick cunt. I was dripping, and I hadn't touched myself. Not once.

When I was seated fully, I leaned forward and picked up the leash. I let it trail over his stomach, cool metal against heated skin, before attaching it to the loop at the front of my collar. I reached forward and gently tapped his jaw.

"Open."

He let go of the chain immediately, dropping his head back and thrusting his hips, fucking me.

"No!" I smacked his hip, as close to his ass as I could get with him on his back like this. "Not yet."

He stilled, though he gave a displeased little snarl and flexed his arms. I took the leash and slipped it under the nipple clamp chain, fastening the end - which also had a clip so sir could chain me to the bed, the wall, the floor in our playroom... - back to my collar. It was just the perfect length to tug lightly on the clamps. If I lifted it up, it was going to pull - and pull hard.

"Are you ready to get fucked?" I asked, my voice low and sultry.

"Do it," he growled.

I'd been in the process of grinding down into him, giving the two of us some relief, but at the command in his tone I stopped dead.

"Pardon?"

He licked his lips, and I could see the instinct to command me to get the fuck on with it warring with the desire to get what he wanted. I grinned, glad he couldn't see the glee on my face.

"Fuck me, baby," he said finally, his voice as close to a plea as I'd ever heard it.

Good enough.

Wanting this for him as much as me, I lifted up and slammed back down, hearing him gasp as he grasped what I'd done with the chain, what the price of getting fucked was really going to be. I enjoyed the simple feeling of sliding down on him, letting him stretch me and fill me, for several glorious minutes before reaching for my bullet once more. I switched it on and felt him tense, head rocking back up to peer at me blindly as he braced for more torment, but this was for me. I went straight for my clit, holding the bullet tight in against the hood as I lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped. I could feel my orgasm ready to rise in me with lightning quickness so I reached forward and ripped the blindfold from his eyes.

His intense gaze burned into mine as I rode him, the chain between my collar and the clamps like a tangible incarnation of our connection. There was no holding it back then. I came with an explosion, the muscles at my core pulsing and fluttering over his shaft, pushing him into release. I felt his entire body contract and shake, the restraints holding him prisoner and forcing him to concentrate on the agonising pleasure of his orgasm. We rose it out together and then I collapsed forward onto his chest, leaning into his strength.

He tucked his head down, the only part of him he could move, and nuzzled against my hair. It was as good as a hug, a reminder that he had me.

"Happy birthday, Kitten," he murmured. "I hope you enjoyed your present."