God, let me be dreaming, he thought as his ass skittered away from the cane like a subdued little puppy in the suspension harness. Please, oh God, let this be my worst nightmare.
Frilly tufts of flounced ballerina-like "froufrou" rang in subdued silvery tones with each wriggle of red-streaked creamy thighs. The bell-trimmed damask cloud rode those frantic twists higher, exposing a crack-creeping silvery mesh thong that did nothing to contain straining flesh. Speaking of straining flesh, the drooling wag of his purplish-blue cock-head caught his eye in the whisking shadows of the swaying support harness. With a few more quick taps on his nude upper thighs, the silky saffron stockings snagged then split to the noxious yellow ribbon bows trimming either side.
Natural rope creaked, stirring the humid tang of sweaty skin secretions. Beneath a contrasting silvery pink leather corset, his chest heaved and burned as the jelly under-bust clamped to his nipples bucked with him. A choked moan of humiliation escaped lips rouged in some bitter concoction and ended in a quick gasp as more little taps fell, rhythmically, echoing the tune of rain that pattered lightly against glass outside.
Rain. It flooded the heavy stench of rich dusky roses into the stone slab room, matching the vines that wrapped struggling wrists and bled beads of hot crimson. She wrenched them back and forth over his thin flesh, dragging her nails through the welling essence.
"Mmmmrphhh, ut ooo uuuu unt!" he gagged around a thick plastic cock jammed so deep in his throat that the scream around it was like dry-throating an ogre. The tiny thorns tore jagged streaks even deeper, and she traced her pursed lips with what they forfeited, as nonchalantly as lipstick applied from a cosmetics case.
"I want to give you everything you ever wanted," whispered a whirlwind, as melodic as the bells that rang frantically at his hips, as nebulous as his attempts to remember exactly HOW he arrived in such a precarious position.
She rose, sculpted in black leather from head to foot, like a second skin. Scarlet hair scattered with withered white rose petals flowed to slender hips. A harness bracketed her inner-thighs, the blazing orange dildo clutched within never bothering to hide. Over a smirk, she toyed with the zipper on the catsuit, lowering it to her petite bust before she fished a little pout from the hot lake of her mouth.
"Are you frightened?" again with that aloof tone; it eluded speech as a popular medium. It hummed dark and musically, exuding sexual energy, presence.
His balls throbbed. He could only nod weakly as she wrenched and stretched them further then tied them down.
Her breath over his skin was the hot lick of fire, and beneath bindings that squeezed like torture's embrace, a shiver shook each vertebra. "Do not be frightened," she murmured, a teasing tilt twitching through the words, "I have no plans to bare you publicly, nor strip the skin from your suctioned tits as you suck and fuck as many men and women as possible. …Simply a date with myself and my roses."
He'd kill whoever told her.
"Mmmm, but you never told anyone, did you?" hissed even softer, and a cold tongue lapped at his ear.
No, he never had. Another violent shiver snaked, and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Bitter. Humiliated. Tears. How could she hold all the cards? His fingers twitched beneath the vines, groping for her silvery eyes or throat then recoiling in pain as the vines dug deep. A poison-like sting rushed his veins, but his traitorous cock responded by throbbing even harder and leaking precum all over the wretched corset. His breath panted. He would see her blood on his hands.
She pivoted on one spiked heel like an immense black dragon with a fire mane and sent him an amused grin. "I like a look of determination on a pretty man."
