Allie ran to the bathroom to clean off her face, still entirely naked except for her boots. I sat back on the couch and looked around her studio. The fashion sketches pinned to the wall seemed to be her work, and I was impressed by her sense of form, her use of color.
She emerged from the bathroom, holding her boots, her feet small and delicate on the floor.
"I like your work," I said.
"Wow, my first fan," she said sarcastically.
She tossed her boots by the door and moved toward her bed. She got on her knees and rummaged through storage bins underneath it, and I watched her from the couch, her naked butt in the air.
"Aha!" she said.
She stood up and faced me, holding four black straps, each ending in velcro handcuffs.
"Who wants to be tied up first?" she said.
"You," I said.
She bit her lip and jumped on the bed. I walked over to her, took the straps from her, and she laid down flat on her back. She extended her thin arms above her head, and spread her legs out, and looked up at me vulnerably with her big hazel eyes.
I ran my fingers softly up her left arm, then wrapped the velcro band around her wrist and strapped the other end to the headboard. I leaned over her to do the same to her right arm, brushing my hands up it, watching goosebumps pop up over her pale skin.
When I'd strapped that arm in too, she pulled on her wrists, the couple inches she could move them. The headboard creaked but didn't give. She smiled and wiggled her hips.
"Perfect," she said.
I spread my fingers and drew them down the length of her arms, over the top of her chest, down over her tits. She shuddered and exhaled through pursed lips. I kept going, down her flat belly, brushing very slightly over her landing strip of pubic hair, then moved them down her thighs, her knees, her calves...
I held her feet gently as I cuffed her ankles, my fingers wrapped around her small toes, her nails painted black. Then I tied the straps to the foot of the bed, and she was fully immobilized. I stood up and looked down at her, the bed too small for her to be completely starfished, but her thin frame still spread-eagled. She was biting her lip, her small breasts heaving, her wrists and ankles lightly pulling at their bindings.
My dick had been lying flaccid this whole time, but seeing her now, completely at my whim, it started to stir again.
"What are you gonna do to me first?" she said.
I turned and walked away from the bed. I heard the straps strain at the bedrame.
"Where are you going?" she said, a note of confusion in her voice.
I entered her kitchen and opened the fridge.
"I'm getting a drink."
She didn't respond. I pulled open a drawer at the bottom, found an array of IPAs. I pulled one out and then looked around her kitchen.
"Bottle opener?" I said.
"Second drawer," she said.
I found it.
"Ah, thanks," I said.
