After spending most of the day on the couch thinking about the situation, Mike felt the need to make a trip to the sporting goods store. It took him longer than he figured, loading his bag with 45 slugs, 38's, and a half dozen boxes of 12 gauge buckshot. The sky was dark when he finally arrived back at his apartment, pulling the car up to the curb on the street out front.
Mike lugged the weighty amo bag in through the front door, dropping it heavily on the entryway table. The room was dark with the coming of night outside, no one had yet turned up the interior lights.
Shedding his jacket, Mike walked to the bedroom door, pushing it open and entering the dim room. He never saw the shadow that waited for him just inside. The shadow that, taking his arm, propelled him forward face first onto the bed. The shadow that leaped immediately after Mike, landing on top, holding him down.
A face moved down close to Mike's ear, soft hair ticking his cheek.
"Hello Mike," came Ivy's hoarse whisper, her hand holding his head down. Before he could reply, a gag was pulled roughly over his mouth.
"Don't talk." Ivy whispered again.
He struggled tentatively, attempting to judge how difficult it would be to unseat the small Chinese woman. He ended up on his side and Mike felt her take his hands and bind them tightly together. She moved down to tie his feet together likewise. It was all done very professionally and before Mike realised the seriousness of her intent. Mike wondered just why Ivy was so proficient at restraining men. He felt the beginnings of uneasiness about his predicament. He had never completely trusted Ivy and now, bound and helpless, his imagination ran rampant. Was the Chinese girl some kind of agent sent to kill him? Or was she playing some crazy game, running some scenario like the Camay girl thing? Meanwhile, having restrained him sufficiently, the shadow that was Ivy was fumbling with his belt.
Loosening the buckle, she pulled the leather out through the hoops. Holding it high, she pulled down his suit pants and boxers with her free hand. Leaving him helpless and exposed on the bed she stepped away to turn on the bedroom lights. Mike was shocked to see Ivy standing by the wall, her hand on the switch, wearing a black leather form fitting outfit and spiked heels. Holes had been cut out around her nipples and pubic mound. She still held his belt in one upraised hand. The demure housewife of yesterday had inexplicably been replaced by a dangerously erotic female. Ivy stood there a moment, letting him take her in, then a smirk twisted her lips and she strode towards the bed.
Looking down, Mike tested the binding on his hands and found them strong enough to hold. He was at her mercy. He felt her hands on him, sliding up his bare legs, turning him over onto his belly, his ass vulnerable and exposed. He strained around trying to look back at Ivy, distracted by her peeping nipples. They were hard like raspberries and darkly engorged. Clearly she was excited. Her nipples had not been like this when playing the Camay girl. They had been soft and flat. Unexcited. Somehow that seemed like an important fact to Mike.
Having arranged him on the bed to her liking, Ivy stood back taking a dominant stance behind him, the belt held in front. Her hips were cocked and forward, her hairy patch of pussy hair prominent and damp. Pink lips peeped through.
Ivy looked down at Mike, helpless and exposed before her. She could do anything with him that she liked. He was her toy.
Slowly Ivy raised the thick leather belt. She held it a moment, then brought it down hard against Mike's ass.
"Thwack."
The shock of sudden pain startled Mike and caused his body to convulse. A grunt was all he could produce through the gag.
"Whack."
Another blow and despite the pain and humiliation, Mike felt his cock harden beneath him.
Ivy continued ruthlessly laying the belt across his ass cheeks and every blow seemed to make him harder. The hits were coming slow and administered with full strength. He could feel his butt becoming blistered with the abuse he was taking and his swelling manhood was trapped uncomfortably beneath him. Mike squirmed, trying fruitlessly to escape, until he managed to flop over onto his back, freeing his cock which slapped up loudly against his belly. The blows stopped.
Ivy looked down at Mike's rampant and straining manhood. She held the belt, as if considering continuing her rain of blows down on it, but to Mike's great relief, she did not. Instead she leaned forward resting one knee on the bed and took his pole roughly in her hand. She squeezed hard, eliciting another moan from the gagged Mike. She began batting his cock back and forth from hand to hand, causing him to grow, if anything, even harder. Mike could already feel the increasing need to cum, not just a desire but a primitive force that overwhelmed him, taking over his mind. But then she took his cock in her hand and held it up, looking speculatively at his hanging ball sack. Without any warning, she formed her small hand into a fist and punched his defenseless nuts. It wasn't a terribly hard punch but Mike's balls retracted in alarm, while she aimed several more punches at them. It was painful but Mike's penis grew larger and harder and thumped against his belly, further exposing his balls to more harm. Ivy laughed nastily at him and pointed at his excited cock, before throwing one last blow to his nuts.
But Ivy's abuse of his genitals, although intense, would never be enough to bring him to satisfaction. It was just a painful tease. In his mind he saw himself pushing her over the desk and driving his engorged cock deep into her heat and wetness, making her scream with the size and hardness of it. But he was helpless, gagged and tied on the bed while she had her way with him.
