I.
"Sit down."
"Yes, sir."
She sat in the chair. She was wearing nothing except a black choker necklace and tall black socks that run up over her knees almost to her thighs.
"Hands behind your back."
She obeyed, placing her hands behind her. He tied her wrists together with the panties he had taken off her earlier.
"Feet apart."
She complied, placing her feet slightly apart so that each heel touched the bottom of each leg of the chair. He took two ties from his closet and tied each of her ankles to each leg of the chair.
"Now your eyes." He took the blindfold and tied it around her forehead so she could not see.
She was tingling with anticipation. She felt herself getting wet with every passing second.
She felt the rush of his hand before she felt the impact. Thwack - his hand slapped her inner thigh and she jumped a bit, then shuddered.
"Don't you fucking move," he commanded.
She sat still again, feeling the sting on her thigh and the pulsing ache of her wetness.
She felt his soft touch on her thigh caressing where he has just struck. His fingers slowly working upwards, stopping just before her labia. She groaned quietly and bit her lip slightly.
"That's better. Just how you should be. Just sit there."
Again she shuddered slightly. When he talked to her like this she couldn't help it.
II.
He walked behind her. His hands traced her shoulders and her long back. They moved slowly and gracefully across her skin. He reached his arms over her neck and gently caressed her nipples. She almost cried out, but stifled herself.
Again - a sudden slap, this time to her other thigh. She yelled out and struggled against her bonds.
"Didn't I tell you to sit-the-fuck still!"
She quieted herself again. She was so wet she could feel her juices oozing out and down her leg. He took a finger, ran it across her leg where it was wet, and slowly slipped it into her mouth. She lapped at it hungrily.
And then he was still. She could hear him breathing, sitting in a chair across from her, but he didn't touch her. This, of course, made her even more turned on.
"I think I will stop touching you for now, " he promised. "Instead, I'll just sit here and talk for a minute.".
"You are beautiful. A beautiful, naughty slut. You need my cock (at this she moaned softly) but you will not get it until you cum. And you won't cum until I give you permission."
Her breathing quickened just slightly.
"Imagine we're in a restaurant. I've already asked you to leave your panties at home, and like the good slut you are, you agreed. We're sitting next to each other in a round booth at the back of the place. There's a long white tablecloth covering the table so no one can really see what's happening below the table."
She nodded her head slightly.
"After we order, my hand reaches down slowly your bare legs. I move it up slowly, under your skirt. My fingers touch the edge of your inner thigh, moving closer and closer..."
She licked her lips. "Yes," she said.
"Now I'm just about to touch your wet clit and the waiter comes back to the table with our wine. You think-you hope-that I'm going to pause, but I don't. I touch it gently, and as he pours our wine I can feel you getting wet."
"Yes...yes," she said.
"The waiter leaves and I start rubbing it slowly and gently. Just slowly and gently. Over and over. Over and over. In a short, small circle. Over and over..."
