When the man most knew as Jon Chess came to consciousness in his bed, he could not move his wrists more than an inch. While he had slept deeply - and Jon did not often sleep deeply - someone had used strong silken ropes, of the kind used to tie soft night robes together, to secure his arms to the top of the bedposts. Likewise, he found that his legs had been immobilized in just the same way, using more silk sashes. Neither his arms nor his legs had any bend to them, but while they were forced to a relaxed maximum extension, neither his arms nor legs were painful. He tested the bonds to no avail; they were secured firmly, and he would not be leaving without outside assistance.
Even if the restriction had been painful, Jon would not have noticed; when he had come awake, the first thing he had noticed was the scent of feminine arousal. The status of his limbs had been almost immediately banished as an afterthought. He felt the weight of someone straddling his chest, and when his eyes had truly opened and focused, the first sight which greeted him was a familiar feminine body and pair of milky white thighs leading to the apex covered in dark plum-colored panties that sat high on her waist. The panties were made of soft, laced Mageweave, which did little to hide that the public mound beneath it had been shaved bare. The gusset of the panties was quite obviously soaked with the woman's arousal.
At least that would have been quite visible, if not for the womanly hand with long, slender fingers that had snuck their way inside the panties, and were now busy stroking gently at the woman's clitoris and labia.
A familiar and beloved giggle caught Jon's attention. "Oh good, you're awake!" crooned the soft, dulcet voice of his wife, the chest-nut haired Alia Atherton. She removed her hand from its play, and stretched out across his chest, smiling like the cat with the cream as her violet eyes met his. Her breath had the slightest hint of fruity wine and chocolate indicative of a glass of [Lagrave Stout], her preferred drink. "You will forgive me if I could not wait for you...I got excited as I tied you off. First your hands and then your ankles...But then you took longer than I planned to wake up...I was afraid I used one too many drops of the Lethargy Root extract in your thistle tea...You made me worry!" She added with a pout, her eyes going all doe-like before the lustful fire returned.
Jon kicked himself - he was the one who had taught his Beloved about the use of his alchemy setup and supplies, almost as soon as he had moved into their Wizards Watchtower in the Elwynn forest. Jon had not felt comfortable with having his distillation equipment around their residence without her knowing - at least in theory - about the uses of his various reagents for various poisons and venoms, and the antidotes thereto. He had never thought for a moment that she would use that knowledge on him.
Well, maybe the antidotes part, but still...
Alia flicked his nose with a playful giggle, leaving a heady smear of her arousal on his nose as she sat back up, grinding down his member as she readjusted. He could feel the wetness and heat of her entrance press down on him. A hunger that had little to do with nutrition or proper food swept over Jon like a tidal wave. He tested his bonds again, but to no avail; his Beloved had been quite thorough in her knot-y play. Likely another thing Alia picked up by watching him.
"After you had been 'secured' I thought I would take my position and patiently wait for you to awaken. I thought of all the fun I was going to have with you helpless, at my mercy over a glass of wine, and well... it proved too much for me to wait." She informed, ending the sentence with a moan as her fingers delved once more into her intimate flesh. "I hope you aren't disappointed in my lack of modesty... or self-control?"
Jon's eyes reluctantly traveled from the fascinating, if marginally obscured, finger-play up over Alia's soft, white form. Alia was not trained for heavy combat, but rather in the use of arcane knowledge, and as such her body was soft and supple, with her belly slightly rounded and her hips pleasingly wide. His eyes continued up to her chest. Her breasts were perfect, at least in Jon's estimation; they were slightly larger than would fit in a wine cup, firm and pleasingly soft, with nipples They were encased in the lace Mageweave cups of her brassiere, which held them proudly as if offering them for some fortunate fellow to taste. The lingerie set had been a gift from Jon, who enjoyed that it encouraged her sensuality, and made her feel as desired and desirable as Jon found her. Feeling sexy and desirable was, after all, the point of sensual lingerie.
It had taken some time for the normally demure Magna to come around, but when she did, Jon remembered how Alia had told him that she enjoyed moving while wearing this bra, as the soft lace moved across her sensitive nipples, stimulating her with erotic feelings all through the day.
"Cat got your tongue, my love?" Alia teased.
As with the panties, the lace of the bra could not hide that her nipples were both quite erect, possibly because of the material rubbing against them, but also because her other hand was busy squeezing her breasts and pulling and twisting at the nipples gently. Jon grinned; as Alia's arousal grew, she liked her breasts treated with more authority and roughness, almost as if she was welcoming being punished for such wanton behavior.
Alia looked down at her husband with a look that conveyed both love and desire. "Oh, Jon... This feels so good. My fingers inside me and stroking my little clit... but somethings missing. It's not as good as when you do it...with your fingers- your tongue- or your cock... but still...no complaints."
"You know, I'd be more than happy to help you with that, Beloved, "Jon informed Alia needlessly, his voice hoarse with lust.
"Oh, I know you would..." chuckled Alia, a delightful smirk on her lips. She leaned back atop Jon, and the fingers which had been playing with her breasts reached behind and stroked his erect phallus gently. "Trust me, I have many, many plans to make full use of you for my pleasure... in my own good time." Jon loved to hear her throaty laugh, even when it was at his expense; he had gladly played the buffoon for her amusement in the past, and he was delighted - if aching for a more full involvement - by her enjoyment.
She stroked his aching cock gently, as if it was her favorite delicate toy, and not to be risked being broken. Jon moaned at her teasing, and apparently, that was the reaction for which she had been waiting for, as she crooned. "Does that feel good, my love? As good as this feels for me?" The fingers stroking her labia and clitoris stopped, and the hand withdrew from her panties. Before Jon could feel disappointed, her flavored fingers traced his lips and wiped her scent on his upper lip and just below his nose before feeding him her fingers. "Help me clean up, won't you..." She moaned, loving the feeling of Jon's mouth and tongue desperately devouring her fingers, eager for her taste. "I need my fingers clean before I get them dirty again." With a heavy breath, she withdrew her fingers and reached for her panties, dragging them to one side, leaving her bare to Jon's hungry gaze.
"Now it is your turn, I think," she said as her fingers returned to her opening, and spread herself open wide.
Alia inched herself forward far enough that if Jon strained his neck upwards, and extended his tongue as far as it might go, he would be rewarded with his tongue being able to reach her. She moaned lewdly as he did just that, stroking her hard clitoris and tracing a line from her clit to the tiny patch of skin between the bottom of her cunt and her asshole. Jon used the tip of his tongue to penetrate into her as far as he could, perhaps slightly less than the length of a finger-segment. Her scent was, as she well knew, an incredible aphrodisiac to Jon, and she stroked his cock firmly now, feeling his cockflesh tremble with desire.
While Jon tongued her snatch, Alia braced herself on the bed and returned two fingers to her opening, and Jon licked her fingers as they traveled deep into herself. "Do you want more, Jon?" She asked, her voice heavy and full of need. Even too far away for maximum effect, she was addicted to the pleasure Jon loved to inflict with his mouth.
"Yes," Jon growled menacingly as if somewhere the Gilnean had become afflicted like many of his countrymen.
"Then you must...oh fuck Jon, just like that...You must promise me something first." Alia moaned.
"Anything you want, Beloved!' promised Jon, knowing that she was about to ask for something that Jon likely would have granted to her willingly without the extortion, but unwilling to ruin her game.
