I lay in the sleeping bag, wide awake listening to the noises of the forest around me. The wind was blowing in the trees, leaves rustling together quietly in a perpetual “Shhhh” sound, as if the forest itself were willing me to sleep. But sleep would not find me tonight, my mind was too hyped to slumber. The fire outside the tent crackled then popped, sending a slight shower of embers into the cool night air. The shadows of the chairs played across the side of my tent like small misshapen children, dancing awkwardly on bend limbs. There was a slight chill to the night, the recent rain had passed leaving cold damp earth in its wake. I was warm in my bed, listening to the sounds of the forest, waiting for the tell tale sounds of the other campers dozing off.

She had come to camp the previous night, bringing with her that infectious laughter and permanent smile. She had moved about camp, at once seeming at home, as if she had lived her entire life right there, and was tidying up for the recently arrived guests. Her thick woolen clothes hung loosely on her curves, hiding them from sight to all but the most trained eye. She was comfortable out here in the wild, and I imagined the forest was a mirror to her own spirit: calm, soothing yet savage at heart. The others laughed and played, drinking and joking as they went about their tasks. I tried to follow suit, to fit in with the others, but I could not get her out of my head. The way she walked, sure of herself. The way she laughed, light and happy, filling the air with her joyful soul. The way she sat quietly, absorbed in the latest novel, oblivious to her beauty and to the effects it had on the others around her.

I stopped breathing, straining to hear the faintest sounds of snoring coming from up the trail where some of the others had gone to be earlier. I tried in vain to hear the sounds of muffled love making from the couple sharing a tent a few yards beyond hers. I heard nothing but the forest, shushing me to sleep. When I was sure that the rest of camp had indeed retired for the night, I got up and left the tent. The sound of the zipper of the doorway was painfully loud in my ears, but I rationalized that they would think I was off to pee an so put it out of my mind. I waited outside the tent, peering into the darkness which was barely illuminated by the dying firelight. In a few moments my vision adjusted and I could make out the shapes of the chairs. Stepping carefully, I walked around the fire pit, avoiding the logs lined up there, prepped for the mornings breakfast fire. I stalked out of camp past the table, still stacked with the cups, empty of alcohol, now abandoned by their owners for the evening. Thank The Fates for that small favor, the alcohol induced slumber of my camp mates would work to my advantage tonight.

I slipped out of camp deftly avoiding the low hanging limbs along the path to her tent. I had been down there earlier, setting it up for her. I couldn't believe she asked me to do that, playing right into my plans. I didn't even have to find an excuse to scout out the route from my tent to hers. The universe smiled upon me and I took its gift with solemn thanks, memorizing every last step along the path, insuring that my trip would not be heard. I stood outside of her tent for what seemed like an eternity, letting myself anticipate the coming events. I could feel my cock start to stir, the sound of her slow even breathing exciting me. I wanted to pull down my pajama bottoms, whip out my cock and masturbate there in front of her tent door, leaving my seed in the dirt at her feet like some sort of pagan gift to the goddess. Instead I steadied my nerves and took the last few steps to her tent door.

Slowly I unzipped the nylon zipper, sliding it with one hand while I held the thin material in my other hand. It took maybe 5 minutes to make the opening large enough that I could enter, but I did it without waking her, or anyone else for that matter. Once inside, I could smell her, the light floral scent of her hand soap belying the ruggedness of the outdoors, letting me know that this was ALL woman. I spent an equally agonizing time waiting just inside the doorway, kneeling there next to her bed while I watched her sleep. It was a shame to wake such a beauty, but I had needs. I had tried to ignore them, but she insisted on teasing, insinuating that it was my touch that she craved. I had almost cum in my jeans earlier when she had slipped, telling another camper that I was the only one who could touch her feet. She had immediately apologized, but I knew the Freudian slip was what she truly believed in her heart.

I looked around the tent, noticing for the first time the neat orderly way it had been laid out. I frowned, almost sad that I was about to turn this order into chaos. I looked back at her, breathing slowly, her chest falling in a mesmerizing rhythm. Finally I could take no more, I moved over her, dropping myself onto her, pinning her legs with my own, my right hand clasping her mouth shut as my left grappled to collect her hands. I was able to grab her right hand in mine before her eyes shot open in astonishment. She tried to say something but my hand prevented it.”Shhh” I barked in her ear, and the wind picked up, adding the leaves chorus to my command “ssssshhhhhhh” it said. I growled as quietly as I could into her ear, making sure that she felt the intensity of my voice. “I'm not going to hurt you, unless you make me.” She hit at me with her free hand, squirming to get free, but I held her down. I ignored her hand, I knew pain and she was a fairly strong woman, but I endured the pain like I had so many times before, grabbing the rubber ball gag out of my pocket and raising it to her face.

“Do you see this?” I asked. She stopped struggling and nodded, apparently feeling that the docile approach might get her some leniency. “I have to use it” I said, “or we might wake the others. You don't want the others to wake up”. I glared into her eyes, finally seeing that she understood. I used my free hand to place the ball in her mouth quickly, not allowing her to scream. I wrapped the leather strap around her head and patted the velcro into place. That gag was not coming off anytime soon. I removed another leather strap from my pocket and grabbed for her free hand. She struggled again, with more vigor, obviously in more of a panic now that she realized there would be no grace for good conduct. I struggled with her in silence, finally anchoring both wrists in my big hand over her head. As I wrapped her wrists in the second leather strap I explained, “I cannot take chances, and therefore cannot let you have any freedom. However, I can be a LOT rougher, if you continue to fight me. It's your choice”. I saw a brief light of rebellion flash across her visage but then the realization of futility surfaced and she laid back, relaxing some and let me finish binding her arms together.

I smiled, the calm smile of someone who is in charge. Her tits pulled up very nicely under the t-shirt with her hands bound above her head like that. I reached over to the side of the tent, grabbing the rope I had laid there just inside the doorway. I ran a length of it up between her legs, letting my hands pause on her thigh and caress the firm flesh there. Damn she had a muscular physique, hidden behind the false facade of housewife, this woman was a fucking tiger! I leaned over her, reaching around her full hip to grab the rope from behind her. Pressing my face into her crotch I inhaled deeply, smelling the nervous excitement that our wrestling had caused and feeling my own excitement grow within me. I moved my body up hers, sliding my chest up over her abdomen until I was looking in her eyes. I brought the rope between her shoulder blades, and tied looped it around the leather straps at her wrists. My left hand held her wrists over her head while my right hand slid up under her shirt to tingling at the feel of soft warm skin under my finger tips. I ground my rigid cock into her thigh at the same time I leaned close to her ear and pulled at the lobe with my lips.

The smell of her neck was intoxicating. I bit it gently, licking in a slow circle along the same path that my teeth had just been. Her skin was smoky and salty and tasted wonderfully of woman. I could feel my erection get harder. “You have been a tease, and I need release” I told her. My right hand roamed up her shirt, caressing the underside of her breast. I slid down, kissing her nose and then taking her nipple in between my teeth and squeezing firmly. I wasn't causing pain, this was exploration, discovering all of the tastes, smells and sensations I had fantasized about over the past few months. I slid further down, my hand coming back down out of her shirt and caressing her hips while the other grabbed the rope between her legs and pulled. Slowly the twisted fibers drew her hands down behind her head. I folded the rope a few feet below her ass and tied it in a simple knot, leaving a loop exposed and creating a kind of stirrup. I hooked my foot into it, pushing with just enough pressure to keep her hands firmly behind her head.

Lying across her crotch, holding her legs apart with my body I retrieved another length of rope and fashioned a sort of belt out of it, wrapping it around her waist three times before tying it off. I checked it, slipping two fingers underneath the side of the belt where her hips were, insuring it was loose enough to allow blood flow. When I was done, I lifted my foot, allowing enough slack in the rope tied to her wrists and weaved it into the back of her belt and tying it off. With her hands now incapacitated over and behind her head, I undid her pants. I kissed her stomach, just above her mons between the zipper, moaning as I did. I sat back, pulling them down over her round ass and down her legs. I couldn't help but notice that it was easier than expected, she was no longer fighting me.

I bent back down, pressing her legs under my arms as I reached around each hip to grab her ass in my hands as I buried my face into her panties. Her odor was all I had ever dreamed it would be, sharp and sweet, mimicking her personality. I pushed the panties out of my way with my tongue, licking at the wet labia like a man lost in the desert and finally coming upon a water hole, needing to quench his week long thirst. My hands kneaded her ass, pulling at the panties, wanting to feel her bare pussy on my face. I ripped her panties out from under her as quickly as I could, my hunger now unstoppable. Tossing the aside I dove back into the warm moist cavern of her sex. My lips and tongue worked her pussy, tasting the tart raunchy 'haven't had a shower in days' taste mingling with the sweet viscous 'ready to fuck' creaminess that I loved. I felt her push back against my face, and licked faster, sending my tongue deeper into that blazing furnace of her cunt. I licked the tip of my tongue along the upper side of pussy, just under the clitoris. Back and forth my tongue went, fast and flat, dragging the rough ridges of my taste buds across her clit as if it were trying to compete with a vibrator.

I felt her shudder, and my hand shot up under her shirt, pinching her nipple without ever missing a beat with my tongue, I pressed her nipple between my fingers, slowly increasing the pressure as my tongue flicked across her pussy, lightly touching the tip of her now sensitive hot button. She squirmed, moaning behind the ball gag and I tasted the flash of wetness that signaled victory. Her orgasm flushed down her pussy and I lapped at it as quickly as I could, not wanting to waste a single drop of the precious liquid that I had worked so hard to get. I kicked off my bottoms, not even noticing where they went. My shirt came off next, tossed in the back corner of the tent over her head. I slid up her body, letting the heat of her cunt wash over my now bare skin. I pulled her shirt up and over her head, leaving it bunched around her wrists and the leather binding. I pressed my body onto hers, letting her feel my need pressed against the outside of her pussy as my mouth kissed her bare breasts. I let my tongue draw small circles around each nipple before kissing my way up to her neck again. With my face nuzzled in her neck, sucking gently enough to make her feel alarm at the possible hickey but not hard enough to actually do anything, I felt my dick twitch again, becoming like granite.

I could wait no longer. I sat up, grabbed her hips and pulled her onto my rigid cock, burying it deep in that fiery warmth. I saw her eyes widen in fear at the lack of condom but I withdrew immediately and she looked at me suspiciously. I climbed up, lifting the velcro next to her ear and removing the ball gag. I spun around, kneeling beside her head and pressed my cock into her mouth. I heard her moan briefly as I leaned forward, pressing my face back into her cunt. I licked her slowly, taking care to be gentle with the hyper sensitive labia and clitoris all the while fucking her face in a slow rhythm. Her mouth was divine and after a few minutes I could contain myself no longer, cumming in her mouth, and shuddering as my penis rammed into her throat.

I fell off of her face to the side, spent. With the last bit of energy I climbed back around, laying naked next to her bound body, I kissed her passionately on the lips, slipping my tongue into her mouth so that I too could taste the hot viscous traces of cum on her tongue and lips. I reached behind her head, and with the deftness of practice I pulled the quick release knot loose from her wrists and unbound the leather from them. I removed the rope belt and lay there, next to her, neither of us speaking for what must have been 20 minutes. Finally, my strength returned, I arose, kissed her once more on the lips, again on the clit and drew her covers over her. I gathered my things, tossed on my pajama bottoms, and slipped back into the night to my tent, where sleep was waiting for me.

The next morning, as we were all packing up to leave, our eyes met and locked, just for a second. But in that second, I knew....camping would never be the same again!

It had started out a normal day. Early morning sex, a quick breakfast, a shower to freshen up and off to work. The day flew by like so many do these days. My workload had gotten more intense and I was spending less time watching the clock and more time entrenched in the latest problem to solve. It wasn't a bad thing to be occupied, just not my usual easy going self. I drove home in the afternoon sunshine, enjoying the change from the overcast and infrequent showers that February and March usually bring to the Atlanta area. As usual I parked the car and walked down the hill to check my mail before retiring to my apartment. That was when the day ceased to be normal and became something exquisitely decadent.

In the mail was a small manilla envelope, the kind that has bubble wrap inside to protect the contents. I couldn't figure out who would send me a package. It was too small for a book, DVD or CD, the normal fare I ordered off of Amazon. It was a hand written address, in a very precise and fluid cursive writing that you normally see on marketing junk mail. You know, the ones designed to look authentic in order to entice you to open it instead of throw it away immediately. That was my first thought, but I could feel something inside, not just some ad promoting the newest most exciting vacation share property built in Florida. I looked closer at the envelope, the writing was genuine, not just an cleverly designed font printed with an ink-jet. The paper was indented from an actual pen. I didn't recognize the return address either, I didn't know anyone with that name.

“Good afternoon!” I heard a woman's voice say. Startled from my detective work I looked up to see my neighbor picking up her mail while she walked the dog. I smiled and waved back. It isn't a very social apartment complex, but I do like to say hello when I meet my neighbors. Picking up the rest of my mail and my briefcase I headed back up the short hill to my apartment. I dropped my briefcase in the usual spot, placing my keys on their hook and my wallet on the shelf below them. I have learned to embrace my OCD tendencies, they don't make me check the lock three times to be sure but they do seem to keep me from losing things.

Once my after work ritual was done, I returned to the desk and the mysterious envelope. When I opened it and dumped its contents on the desk I was surprised and overjoyed. I had forgotten about the pervy request I had made a few weeks back. A hectic work schedule and full social calendar had seen to that. But now the extremely hot video of her wearing the candy necklace and squirming delightfully in front of the camera came flooding back to me. I immediately picked up the candy and held it to my nose, trying to pick her scent from the sugary bites strung on the elastic band. The necklace had been in the mail for a couple weeks, any scent of her was long gone. I smiled appreciatively, the thought that she had done me that favor was enough. I love my friends!

I sat down at the computer to post a thank you to her before retiring to the bedroom to take care of the erection I felt screaming to get out of it's prison of cotton and linen slacks. That was when I noticed the small scrap of paper poking out of the envelope. “She sent me a note too!” my mind squealed like a teenaged girl at a boy band concert. I tried to get myself under control thinking that I was silly for getting all geeked up about someone I had never met, but it was useless. I have no control over my crushes any more than I have conscious control over my gall bladder. I read the note. It was a short one. It read: “818-555-8472 Call me when you get this!”

My hands were shaking as I picked up my cell phone to dial the number. After three tries I was finally able to make the design which unlocked the keypad. It took another three just get the number correct. When the phone stopped ringing I heard the sultry voice of a woman answer “Hello?” she said. I introduced myself and I heard her voice pick up an octave. “Oh hello there D.” She used my name and it rolled off her lips like honey dripping onto your tongue from fresh honeycomb, warm and sticky sweet. The sound of it made me turn to jell-o and I stammered. Is this “y-you?”. My inner voice, clearly more in control of things than my brain, ridiculed me. “Oh, like that makes sense, of course she is! Like you answer your phone and say 'Hi it's me!'?” I distinctly heard it say. “Y-you isn't very descriptive” she mocked, laughing a bit at her own joke. “Who do you want it to be?” I heard her ask. That inner voice knew. In fact it offered up many names, her online name, the name on the envelope, Ass-tastic, SMOKIN'..and many others much more raunchy which had been used before during masturbatory fantasies about her. My brain however, struck by some acute form of paralysis, answered back “The Candy Girl”. My inner voice burst out laughing “Really?!? The Candy Girl? Is that the best you can do?”. Sometimes I hate that inner voice. This was one of those times.

She responded “Yes, that is me I suppose. So you got it?” My brain, working on it's own with the laughter of that inner voice still echoing off the insides of my skull, answered “Yes. I did.”. “Good” she replied. “I see you take instruction well.” I nod, then, realizing she can't see me, I quickly stammer “Yes, I do my best.” She laughs. Her voice sounds like good blues when she laughs, deep and rhythmic affecting me at a visceral level that I cannot completely describe. “Have you eaten it or did you call immediately?” Shocked I reply “No, of course not. I had planned on savoring it and wanted to call and thank you first.” “That's good” she remarks, “because I have plans for you. You don't mind if we play a little game for my entertainment do you?” A game! I love games! My inner voice stops laughing at me long enough to interject. “Of course not” I respond, my mind racing inside my head. What game? How long will it last? What if she asks you to do something you don't like? What are the rules of this game? What do I get if I win? Finally I am able to get a conscious thought in edgewise and ask “What kind of game?”. “It's like Simon Says, except that I won't try to trick you.” Her voice has a musical quality, light and bouncy as if she is enjoying the mystique, “You just have to do what I say. You do trust me don't you?”

My inner voice goes wild again. I barely know you. How can I trust you? You don't know me. How can you possibly know what I will and will not do? Even if I agree how will you know whether I am lying? Why would you even agree to play if you were going to lie? What's the worst she can ask you to do? She is miles away in a different state, why not play along? It will be fun! “Of course I trust you!” I say, having burned through the previous questions in less than a second. It's amazing the speed at which your mind can work when it wants to. What I really meant was that I trusted myself to be OK with whatever she could possibly ask of me. In the end, trust is more about yourself than it is about the other person. You cannot control anyone else, it is folly to try. You can however control your reactions to what they do or say. I trust myself to be able to handle anything she might throw my way, so I agree to play her game. “What would you have me do?” I ask.

“Now that you have accepted” she says, “Grab the necklace and hold it up to your face. Do you smell it?”. “Yes” I say, “but it has been too long, it only smells like candy to me.” “Then you'll have to pretend I guess” she says with a bit of sarcasm. I smile. I like this woman. She doesn't take things too seriously and likes to have fun. “Close your eyes” she commands. I do so. I take a few deep breaths with my eyes closed, focusing on her voice, letting it become my world. I hear the soft timber of her voice as it speaks to me, channeling my thoughts in whichever direction she leads me. I put the phone on speaker and lay it on the desk beside me, trying to imagine her sitting next to me telling me what to do.

I want you to picture that video, see the necklace on my neck as I pull it down between my tits. It stretches delightfully, the small compressed discs sliding along her tan skin inked with brilliant colors, I can almost hear the beads clink together as she moves them down along her body. Her voice drifts into that vision, helping to form it. I watch as she pulls the necklace further down, rubbing a few of the candies between her legs. She takes the necklace off, bunching it up and smearing her pussy all over it, then offers the necklace to me, placing it under my nose. “Can you smell it now?” I hear her sultry voice say. “Yes, it smells wonderful” I say, the scent of her beginning to excite my loins, stirring sexual desires in me. “Does it smell good” she asks from the phone. “Of course it does!” I reply, my eyes still closed, my senses fully engaged in the fantasy she is spinning for me.

She tells me to lick the candy, letting the tip of my tongue play along the edge, tasting the sweet sugary treat covered in her feminine scent. Reach down with your spare hand and caress yourself she orders. My hand complies without me having to think about it, I am her marionette, her voice is my strings. What she says I will do, my pleasure will be to experience first hand what she has dreamed up for me. “Unzip your pants and pull your cock out” I tug at my zipper, working it slowly down with one hand and fish my now rigid cock out of my underwear. “Stroke it for me while I dance for you” she says, taking the necklace back and rubbing it seductively up her thigh back to that sweet pussy of hers. I stroke my cock, slowly running my fingers up the length of it before starting the downward stroke, equally as slow. Her gyrations are mesmerizing, her voice soothing. I imagine my cock in her cunt, as she grinds those hips standing in front of me swaying back and forth. It is easy to picture her straddling me as she moves those hips in slow lazy circles, the candy necklace being used to lift her breasts. I want to suck on them, pull those nipples into my mouth and dart my tongue around them like a horse on a track, but she has not asked that of me. I continue to slowly stroke my cock, watching her dance, pulling the necklace down across her beautiful ass as she bends over in front of me. I can see the dark folds of skin peeking out between her thighs, summoning to me. I only stroke my cock, my hand running up and down the shaft, caressing the soft skin and running my fingers over the bulging veins.

She commands me to the bedroom and asks me to remove my clothes. I get up, opening my eyes long enough to grab the phone and make my way to the bedroom. My shirt is left on the living room floor, my pants in the doorway. Socks and underwear are tossed in the general direction of the closet hamper and the phone is set down on the pillow next to my head so I can hear her sweet voice. “I'm there in the room with you, can you see me?” she asks. I respond “Yes” having shut my eyes again and entered back into the fantasy. “Stroke your cock, I want to watch you masturbate” she commands. I comply, stroking my cock a bit faster now, my hand sliding up and down the skin with barely enough pressure to keep it in contact with the base of my fingers. “Tell me what you imagine me doing when you masturbate” she says. My eyes still closed I say “You climb on the bed, running a hand up my leg to my cock” stroking my cock while I imagine her long slender fingers being dragged lightly up the sensitive inseam of my thigh. “You caress my balls and grip the base of my cock with your hand, bending down to kiss it gently on the head.” I moan, my hand sliding up my cock and pausing briefly while my thumb flicks across the head of penis, giving me the sensation of soft lips touching me there, before descending again.

I lay there for a few seconds stroking my shaft and moaning lightly at the thought of her actually there, her warm breath washing over my penis, teasing it with the presence of a warm wet mouth but denying it the pleasure of a blow job. “Go on” I hear her prod. “Tell me more. What do I do next?” I continue to use my hand to pleasure myself, saying “You straddle my chest, pushing your ass up where I can see it, but far enough away that I can't lick it. I feel your hand stroke my cock while the tip of your tongue licks the head. My hand strokes my cock and I feel my hips thrust as if to force my penis into the imaginary mouth that it yearns to feel. “You make me beg for your pussy before shoving it back into my face.” I moan louder, the scent of her womanhood is strong in my nostrils, my tongue tastes her sweet cunt and I rub my face into her wantonly. My cock is solid in my hand, and I can feel the first stirrings of an orgasm starting at the base of it. I stroke it a bit faster. I can hear my breathing getting louder and more sharp. I lick my lips, imagining her cunt in my face, her body pressed down on mine in a 69 position as she strokes my cock, occasionally licking the head of it to remind me that her mouth is still there, still denying me that pleasure. “I wrap my hands around your thighs and pull you onto me, licking your now wet pussy with my tongue and using my lips to caress your labia as I dig deeper into your cunt with it.” I can feel the my cock start to throb, my breathing is ragged now, I am having a hard time speaking and the orgasm is imminent.

“I can feel you..” I start to say, sucking air into my lungs before continuing “...thrusting your hips against my face.” Another ragged breath of air and I gasp “grinding yourself into my mouth letting me know how much you are enjoying my skills.” I moan even louder now, my hand still working up and down my cock. “Careful now, you don't want the neighbors to hear you” I hear her say on the phone. “Fuck em” I gasp, “This will be over soon”. I imagine her body on mine, the weight of it pressing on my chest. I imagine the heat of her cunt on my tongue and her mouth mere fractions of an inch from my penis and I tense my legs, the pressure of orgasm is building.

Suddenly there is a knock at the door. “Crap.” I say, “I don't need this right now” I stroke my cock faster thrusting it into my hand now as if I were fucking that mouth. “They can wait” I mumble as I moan again, my need to cum an imperative. “You're not going to answer the door?” I hear her ask incredulously. “No” I reply, still stroking my cock. The knocking gets louder, I am finding it hard to concentrate on the fantasy with her comments and the person a few feet away waiting patiently for me to come to the door. “You should stop and send them away” she says “This is interrupting our play time.” I'm so close, but she is correct. If I am going to finish this, I would prefer to do it without some stranger listening in from outside of my apartment. “I'll be right back” I say to her as I scoop up my jeans from the floor and hop my way to the shirt in the living room. I pull the shirt on and open the door. “I'm sorry, I don't need any magazine subscriptions or church invite..” My voice is cut off abruptly as I look up into the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen.

She is standing there, wearing a long dark coat, a black beret hangs off her head to the side, showing delicate curls of brunette hair dangling from underneath it. Her make up is perfect, rose red lips and just enough blush to add a bit of color to her already dark complexion. She is wearing a wonderful pair of ankle boots with open toes over her fish net stockings. I can't seem to say anything, the paralysis returning to my brain and infecting my entire body. She smiles up at me as she closes her phone and drops it in the pocket of her jacket. She pushes past me into my apartment and I mechanically close the door behind us. She drops the coat to the floor, revealing a black and red lace teddy on top of the black lace garter holding up her thigh high fish net stockings. “Now where were we?” that sultry voice says as she grabs my hand and pulls me towards the bedroom...

I love the smell of leather. It was strong as I leaned over the bed to fasten the cuff to the of the headboard. The beautiful woman only looked up at me and smiled, allowing me to fasten the heavy buckle and tie her right arm out to her side. I circled the bed, taking care to insure the perfect fit on the cuff of her left wrist before tying it to the opposite side of the headboard. I had her slide down, pulling her arms a bit above her head. “Should I take my clothes off?” she inquired. The only response she got was my adding the ankle cuff and pulling her leg to the corner of the bed. I had previously strung rope under the mattress and tied her foot to that, locking it to the foot of the bed. She moved, testing the give of her legs and finding that she couldn't move more than a few inches in any direction. She looked at me expectantly but I ignored the unspoken plea. I wrapped the last cuff around her right ankle and anchored that foot to the final corner of the bed. When I was finished, I stood, looking at my work. I smiled, her light struggles still testing her limited range of motion.

I look over her clothes, a comfortable pair of Lucky Brand jeans and a black T-shirt. With a smirk I bend down out of her line of sight, sliding the small gym bag out from under the bed. I extract a pair of bandage scissors, with the beveled and blunt lower point. Starting with her right leg I cut the jeans, taking my time to enjoy the squeals of protest. “These are my favorite jeans! You can't cut them off me!” I stop, glancing up at her with an ironic smile. “You should have thought of that during the negotiations. I did ask, and your limit was bodily bruising which would be visible.” I continue cutting up her leg, making sure she feels the cool metal of the scissors on her leg as they slide closer to her more sensitive parts. I raise the tips enough to avoid the underwear. I don't want to make this end any sooner than I possibly can.

I continue to cut all the way up through her waist. I can see she is distressed about the jeans, but I ignore her for the moment. I smile, seeing the look of desperation on her face. I can almost see the wheels turning. “What else have I forgot to mention? How else will my poor negotiation skills be turned to his advantage?” I savor the moment, saying nothing while her fears grow ever darker, more devious than anything I could conjure. I repeat the process for the other leg, making sure she feels every cut of the scissors. With her jeans cut up both legs I remove them from under her and toss them aside, neither of us will be needing them ever again. Her body quivers and I can feel my excitement grow too.

I put the scissors down, grabbing another item from the bag. She looks relieved, happy that the rest of her clothes are safe...for now. I run the whartenburg wheel up her leg and she squirms nicely, yelping in surprise. “What is that?” she asks. I show her the small handle, ending in a tiny 'pizza cutter' type wheel with quarter inch spikes radiating out form its rim. She looks horrified. I laugh, knowing how wicked it looks and feels but also knowing that I haven't applied pressure enough to break the skin. She squirms some more...I smile more.

I run the wheel up her thigh, this time not stopping at the panties, running it over her pubic area and down her other thigh. The squirming gets more energetic. I use the device on the inside of her thigh, loving the way it makes her squeal. Then I use it down the left side of her cunt, pressing hard enough to make the spikes poke through the panties and prick the sensitive labia there. I can feel my erection get harder as I run it down the other side. I know how sensitive that skin is, making the spikes feel tens of times worse than they actually are.

A few more trips down her thighs and I put the spiked wheel down, again retrieving the scissors. I cut it open straight up the middle of her stomach, letting the cloth fall to the sides. Looking down at her on the bed, her shirt cut open exposing her satin skin and lace underwear to my gaze. She looks helpless and used. Exactly the look I was going for. I want nothing more than to tear my own clothes off and fuck her where she lays, taking advantage of that beautiful body. However, tonight I plan to feed my sadistic side. That sweet look of broken innocence that I have worked so hard to achieve has awakened it from its long sleep and it is hungry. I cut up each sleeve, pulling the shirt from under and adding it to the pile of ruined clothes in the corner. I use my hands, running my warm palms over her skin, testing for goose bumps and making her feel my presence. Her skin is smooth, soft to the touch and again the urge to take her rises in my loins, again I squelch it.

The panties are a shame, they are very cute and match her bra but I remove them with the same amount of callous indifference on my face as the jeans, cutting up the front from the inside of each thigh, exposing her clean shaven pussy. I move to the bra, scissors in hand and see the look of terror on her face. I know how hard it is to find them, but tonight I am heartless. I place the scissors on her sternum, sliding the tip under the center section of her bra. She looks at me pleading with those baby-doll eyes, I can almost see a tear welling in them. I smile back at her, the way a parent might lovingly look at a child who has asked for a candy bar just before telling them that they aren't going to get it but thanks for asking. I pause, long enough to see the resignation on her face and her smile droop slightly at the thought of having to purchase a replacement before I remove the scissors. I slide my hand under her back and with a practiced pinch and flick of my fingers I unhook the strap. I temporarily unhook her arm to remove the shoulder strap while she is still in shock. As I slide her bra up her other arm and hang it on the corner of the headboard where the cuff is tied, she laughs nervously. I only look back at her with as glacial a stare as I can muster and say “I didn't take pity on you, I had planned on saving the bra from the onset, I just needed you to understand that I am in total control, you are mine for the evening, and I am bound to the limits that we discussed earlier. No more, no less. Tonight your discomfort is my pleasure.” She nods and I see understanding in those eyes.

Next I remove the violet wand from under the bed, sliding the heavy case along the carpet. I open the latches, letting them snap so she can hear. The case is on the floor so I know she cannot see what I am doing, the sounds of the suitcase opening will make her wonder what the next instrument of torture will be. I take the end of the device and hold it in my hand, the heavy copper cylinder is cold to the touch. I run it up the inside of her leg and she jumps, not expecting the temperature difference. “Do you keep that thing in the freezer?” she asks. “No” I reply and smile as I touch her clit with the cold metal. “Is that cold?” I ask innocently, placing the length of metal along her labia. She nods. I bend over, placing my mouth on her pussy, pressing my hot tongue along the length of skin where the metal had been touching. I hear her moan as I slowly lick up her cunt, letting my tongue lie flat against as much of it as possible. The metal makes better contact against the now wet flesh and feels that much colder than the warm wet heat of my tongue. She squirms and yelps. This woman is such a pleasure to play with.

I put my mouth back on her cunt, licking down between the labia eliciting another moan. I let the copper bar lay on the bed, my hands go to her leg, caressing her soft skin as my tongue works its way into the delicate folds of flesh. A few minutes later I can taste her excitement, slipping a finger into the damp pussy. Working my tongue and finger together she starts to grind against my face. I slip a second finger into her now dripping cunt and smile. I stand abruptly, removing my mouth and fingers and filling her cunt with the cold metal cylinder. She gasps, inhaling sharply as the rigid cold object slides into her vagina. “Oh you're mean” she snaps, gripping her teeth against the cold feeling inside. A few moments later and the metal warms, surrounded by those wet soft lips. My mind starts to wander, imagining my cock inside those warm wet walls, enveloped in her heat. I can picture our legs wrapped around each other, hands gripping and exploring each others bodies, tongues and lips locked in a passionate kiss. I feel my willpower waning and I banish the images from my mind.

Thus far the wand has been off, but now I kneel down again, turning the device on and cranking the intensity to 25%. I think better of it, reminding myself that she said her pain tolerance was pretty high, and set it to 50%, my sadistic side now in full swing. I pull a wicked looking knife from the wand case, the large wide blade curved to a tip with a long sweeping edge on it. I show her the knife, watching as her eyes look at the shiny blade and her reflection in the polished steel. I place the blade against her skin and draw it lightly down her stomach. She screams out, feeling the cold edge of the knife cut into her flesh and leave a trail of hot tingling nerves from her sternum to her pelvis. I only smile. She glares at me but before her mouth can form the word “RED!” I motion for her to look at her stomach, there is not even a scratch on it. She looks at me bewildered, and I smile back, showing her the knife again, unmarred by blood. When she calms down a bit, I take the knife and run it down her leg, again she screams as it leaves a trail of hot tingling nerve endings wherever it touches. She glares at me then down at her leg, not a sign of blood nor even the lightest scratch. I laugh. To demonstrate I cross the room and turn out the lights, The light entering from the bathroom barely illuminates darkened room, the blackout curtains doing their job perfectly. I return to her arm, and barely touch the tip of the blade to it where she can see, the blue lightning jumps from the tip of the blade to her skin, causing exquisite pain but leaves no marks for the second or two that the knife remains in proximity to her arm.

I explain that the copper electrode I had inserted in her wet pussy is attached to a static electricity generator and that wet contact makes her body one giant electrode. Any object coming into contact with her body completes the circuit and causes a static discharge, like being shocked by a door knob after crossing the carpet in your house...600 times a second. To demonstrate I run my fingers lightly over her stomach and up over her breasts stopping briefly on her nipples before moving on. The discharge jumps from my fingers to her skin, causing a similar pain though less intense than the metal connection. I turn off the device, turn the lights back on and pull the electrode from her pussy.

She looks frazzled, and those last screams have made my cock rock hard. I tenderly kiss her pussy, caressing it gently with my tongue. I remove the ankle cuffs one at a time, leaving them tied to the bed. I remover her wrist cuffs too, letting her sit up on the bed. I cover her in a blanket, and sit with her, warming her cool skin with the raging furnace that is burning inside me, yearning to fuck her, yet bound by our agreement that this was a sensory play time. Her face is next to mine, I want to feel those lips with mine, touch them with my tongue and test the heat and resistance of them with the sensitive nerves of my mouth. I only smile and quietly ask her if she would like some water to drink. She nods and I go to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. After returning the bedroom, and sitting with her some more, she is starting to look a bit less flushed. I can still feel the erection in my jeans, pressing against the sipper as if it could burst out of the prison and take what it wanted. I stand, and pause briefly seeing her smile as she notices the excitement, but turn away and go to the headboard. She asks “Is that uncomfortable?” I reply “Yes, but that was not part of the negotiations. I will take care of that once you are gone.”

I hand her the bra that had been hanging on the headboard and she remembers the rest of her clothes, looking sadly in the corner where the shreds of clothing lay. “How am I supposed to get home without any clothes?” She asks accusation dripping from each word. “I have some clothes for you to wear.” I reply evenly, ignoring the tone in her voice. I move to the dresser and open a drawer. “Yes, but how do I explain the male cut clothes when I get home?” she barks. I return to the bed, holding a pair of neatly folded Lucky Brand jeans and a plain black T shirt. She looks shocked “But..but I watched you cut them off of me.” “I know.” I say “These are new, I purchased them last week when we were discussing this play session. They are your size. I have done my homework. The T-shirt is slightly different than the one you had on but nobody will notice the change. I apologize for the panties, I didn't purchase a replacement but it will please me to know that you are not wearing any on your way home tonight”

I watch her dress and can't help but admire the ass as it disappears into the jeans. Her bra and T shirt go on next and she is indistinguishable to the average person from when she showed up at my house three hours ago. I hug her and say goodbye, watching as she walks down the driveway to her car, ass swaying with each step in that mesmerizing motion.

As soon as she drives away I return the bedroom. I can still smell the musky scent of her excitement lingering in the room, the light odor of her perfume on the pillow. I lay on the bed and pull my throbbing cock out, kicking my jeans to the floor. I stroke my cock, the veins bulging under my hand, almost burning me with the heat of my desire for her. I close my eyes, focusing on the smells of the room, recalling how innocent and helpless she looked lying there tied to my bed. The cock in my hands jerks, as if it could fuck the image in my mind. My hand slides up and down my shaft, slowly caressing the sensitive underside along the urethra. I imagine the way her pussy felt on my fingers, hot and wet wrapped around my cock as it slides in and out of that juicy cunt. I can feel my body tense as the pleasure builds, my hand moving up and down now without my conscious thought guiding it. I imagine her sitting on top of me, riding my cock like a theme park ride, her soft skin glowing in the soft light of the dim bedroom and her tits dancing nicely with each thrust of our hips against each other. Oh fuck she is so beautiful, the smell of her perfume mixes with the smell of my sweat as our bodies mingle in my mind, her hips pumping up and down on my rigid cock. The fantasy engulfs me and I yell out “Oh yes baby, fuck me like the whore you are!”. My cock jerks and my hips thrust of their own accord and I feel warmth run down my hand. I continue pumping, moaning loudly as I milk all of the ejaculate out of my cock letting it run down my fingers to my balls or into my pubic hair.

I lay there for a few minutes catching my breath, spent. Finally I get up and hobble into the shower, covered in sweat and cum. I rinse off with hot water, letting the heat and steam wash over my already relaxed body. I dry off, stopping to unplug the wand and turn out the lights before sliding under the covers nude. I stretch out, enjoying the feel of the soft cotton sheets on my body, laying my head on the pillow I begin to drift off, the smell of her perfume still clinging to my pillow, conjuring up images of her beautiful face and gorgeous body. That night, my dreams are of her...

I wake up, groggy, the light stinging my eyes as I try to determine my surroundings. My world floods with brilliant white light, drowning out the shadows and everything else with it. The pain of it all is too much so I close them again and drift back into the blissful darkness. In the distance I hear Your voice, soft but unintelligible yet comforting in this foreign place. I try to determine where it is coming from but the strain makes me tired. I'll just rest here a moment and....

I wake again, still disoriented, I try to speak Your name but only mangled sounds escape my tortured throat. I open my eyes, remembering too late the pain from before as the white hot light shoots pain into my head yet again. My eyes close hard, willing the pain to go away, wishing You were here, trying in vain to hear Your voice. I could have sworn I had heard it earlier, or was that just the delirium of my malady? Am I sick? I try to remember anything from before the pain, but I cannot. I try to move but it feels like I am in molasses, my body does not want to respond to simple motor control. This puzzles me, I don't understand, my mind grasps at wisps of thought, memories or fantasies I cannot tell which. The effort drains me and I can feel a cold sweat begin on my brow. I hope I do not have the flu, I hate to miss work. The darkness comforts me as I drift off again.

Floating, it feels like I am floating. I can feel the wall pressing into my back a solid surface that feels good in contrast to the open airy space around me. Its still dark, but then I realize my eyes are still closed. I almost open them before I remember the light, and I smile to myself having avoided the pain. Slowly I crack my eyelids, it's bright but I can make out a room, dreary, spartan. I'm laying on a bed, the wall I felt before quickly shifts position and becomes a thin mattress on the bed I am laying on, my head throbs, disoriented, I try to make out the rest of the room. I've never seen it before. My throat is killing me, as if I had been screaming for hours at a concert and the tissue is rebelling at the abuse, refusing to cooperate and make normal speech, protesting with it's own dull ache to let me know it is unhappy. I feel like shit, not knowing what to make of this room and no memories of how I got here. At least I am awake and my mind seems to be functioning if only in the present. Your image pops into my head unbidden. The way Your eye sparkles when You find something truly entertaining. The way Your voice sounds to me when I lay my head upon Your chest, deep and sultry, soothing, relaxing me no matter how tense I am. The way You kiss me, Your soft lips pressed hungrily against mine, just as deeply now as when we first met. The way Your body curves, under the ear along the neck, out around the shoulder and breast, back in at the waist only to swing back out at the hips and down along those sleekly muscled thighs. I can picture my hand caressing You along those curves like an Italian sports car cruising along a coastal highway.

I'm shaken from my momentary musings as the door opens. I squint and see a person walking towards me. I try to say “Where am I?” but again my throat rebels and I only succeed in groaning. I hear the words “Take it easy, I have something to help you rest”. It takes a few seconds to register the meaning and before I can object, I feel the distinct prick of a needle in my arm followed the equally distinct sensation of cool liquid being injected. The man walks out, shuts the door and Your voice echos in my head, a mere ghost of the previous musings but soothing and calm none the less. I drift off, dreaming of You.

I don't know how long I have been out. My mind is reeling, a million questions waiting to be answered. The fog seems to be clearing but I still have no recollection from before the pain. Oh! I remember the pain and slowly open my eyes. It is dark now, the room cast in hundreds of shades of gray. It is a simple room, one small window, barred. A door, judging by the heavy sound it made when the man left earlier, I assume it is solid and bolted shut. I am laying on a single twin bed with a thin mattress barely protecting me from the springs underneath. I try to sit up but find I cannot, my arms and legs bound by thick leather straps. What is this place? Where am I? What did I do? Damn I wish I could remember. I want to wake up, I pray that this is a nightmare and I will wake soon, but that does not happen. Instead I stare at the blank ceiling, trying to conjure the images and memories that landed me here, also without success.

I must have drifted off at some point because it is now daytime, bright warming sunshine streams through the window, illuminating the room, no longer the searing white light which brought so much pain earlier. Oddly, the light does little to make the room more cheery. Dull, light blue paint covers the walls, in places broken and chipped. The window looks as if it might have been cleaned...once...in 1970. The bed is an old military rack, made of welded metal tubes, no sharp corners. I roll onto my side to stretch, the muscles in my back and arms ache, but the movement feels good and soon I almost feel like my old self, whoever that was. I sit up and put my feet on the floor to stretch my legs when it hits me, I am no longer bound to the bed. I peer underneath and the shackles hang loosely from the frame, unused but still in working order. Someone has freed me, but the who or why I cannot fathom. I get up, trying the window to let in more light and some fresh air but the window doesn't budge. It smells like stale sweat and vomit in here so I head for the door. It is not bolted as I had suspected and I poke my head out into the hall. Nobody in sight and a chill runs up my back, where do I go if I escape? I have no past to return to, no address to locate, no place that I can remember to call safety.

I start to panic, my worst fears having become a reality, my memories have been taken from me. I try to calm myself, taking comfort in the fact that my mind has returned to its full intensity, it stands to reason that my memories will do the same. Timeless images of You and I laughing on a blanket spread underneath a large oak tree in the middle of what seems to be a wooded park. Memories of me pushing You on an old tree swing beside a huge farmhouse, the smell of fresh hay wafting on the air and the sound of birds chirping in the trees. The intense sensation of Your body moving against mine, limbs intertwined and hearts pounding in our chests as our bodies grind in unison. The smell of Your breath washing over me as I bend to kiss You, my cock still buried deep in Your cunt. The pleasant feeling of me waking to Your mouth wrapped around my cock in the mornings. Suddenly the empty hallway seems more ominous, the world a dismal place without You in my life. I try in vain to remember a time or a location, but these images like all of the others could very well be figments of my imagination, hallucinations dreamed up in a drug induced stupor.

I shuffle across the hall, the door is locked but I see a similar room to mine occupied by an older woman, sitting on the bed and rocking hectically back and forth, all the while mumbling to herself. The next room houses a man sleeping in the corner, the sheets stripped from his bed and placed in the corner as if it were a nest and he some species of huge bipedal bird. I wander the entire hall, each room with its strange occupant. I begin to doubt my own sanity, wondering if, when people gaze into my room do they see someone equally disturbed? Am I perhaps myself delusional or insane believing my mind to be clear when in reality it is not? This line of thought is dangerous and I feel vulnerable. I need to get to safety, but where is a safe place? Damn I wish I had a clue. The safest place I know is the room, so I return to it, shutting the solid door behind me, safe, secure behind the solid weight from the uncertainties of the outside world.

I lay on the bed for what seems like an eternity, contemplating my fate and the possible events that brought me here. It could have been hours or mere minutes when the door opens again, it's the man, or I assume it's the same guy who injected me. He smiles at me with that warm yet somehow false smile that sales people wear when they greet you as you enter the store. “I see you're up and feeling better.” he remarks casually. I feel nervous, glancing at his hands I don't see a hypodermic but instead a tray of food. It looks bland but suddenly I am ravenous. I realize I haven't eaten in what could have been days, my hunger forgotten along with my past. I nod and remain seated, not wanting to give him any cause to restrain me again. My mind searches, “Why was I restrained before?, “Was he the one who did it?”, “Did I deserve it?”, all questions that I haven't got the answers to so I force myself to abandon the thought chain, focusing on the food. He leaves the tray on the bed and leaves the room, the sound of the door closing reverberating through the room with finality. I hear the light clink of metal scraping metal as he locks it behind him. Drat, confined again, or was that the hint of happiness at the thought of additional security in my world? I eat, the food is barely that. Some nameless dry meat, mashed potatoes and something I assume is a vegetable, all the same drab colorless shade of gray. I marvel at the skill of the cook who was able to create this monotone meal.

I nap after the meal, feeling better about my place in life. A roof over my head, food to eat no matter how tasteless, and a somewhat soft place to sleep. Who could ask for more? Instantly images of You pop into my head. Soft delicate skin, deep intense smile, eyes full of life sparkling with an intelligence that lurks just beneath the surface of Your perfect curves. Oh those curves, I imagine Your hips in front of my face and I plant a sensual kiss on the crease where Your thigh meets Your torso. Your skin smells so nice, the hint of aloe mixing with the sandalwood perfume You wear. My lips travel along that crease, savoring each touch and taste of You. As I move closer to Your sex I feel You respond, anticipating the warmth and pleasure that is to come. Your hips move up to meet my lips, moving so as to position Your cunt under them and moaning with desire for my mouth. I can feel my erection starting as I savor the taste of Your now excited pussy, the heady musk odor pervading my senses and turning me into an animal, no intellect, no decorum, just an overpowering desire to please You in whichever way You want me to. I hear the sound of metal at the door, someone's coming! I realize that the erection I felt was real, though the image may not have been a real memory. I curse my mind, answering the rhetorical question I had asked in such a way as to make me feel lost in a strange world, disconnected from everything and everyone, unable and perhaps unwilling, to live life on my own.

I roll to my side, trying to mask my state of excitement from the man who has surely come to sedate me again, somehow knowing of my wicked thoughts and needing to insure that I am incapable of attempting to escape to find You. Instead a slight figure enters the room, wearing a white lab coat over jeans and a black turtle neck sweater. This must be the doctor, I assume, and remain on the bed, wondering if he has been informed of my state and has come to discuss with me exactly what thoughts are, and are not, allowed in this facility. I smile at the thought of the thought police, and shiver too, half-believing that they might really exist. The doctor comes to sit on my bed, places a hand on my shoulder and calls my name. The voice I hear is Yours and I blink up at the doctor, confused as to why Your voice would echo in my head at this precise moment, insuring that my erection has no chance to subside. The blinking clears my blurry eyes and I see that in fact it is You, dressed as a doctor? My heart soars, knowing that You are real, knowing that You are here to save me from my own madness, You must have been impersonating a doctor to get past the guards and have dreamed up some excuse to take me to that farmhouse, to the huge oak for more picnics and laughter.

You smile at me and say, “I'm glad You're awake. How do You feel?”. Euphoric? How do I feel? Like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Like the world has color again. Like my life has purpose, I know the images were real. “Do You?” the question rises from the back of my brain, trying to be innocent but I know that question is far from innocent. You could be my doctor, I understand the concept of Erotomania, where a patient believes that their caregiver has feelings for them beyond what they actually do. Some refer to this as the Florence Nightengale syndrome, but that describes the opposite unbalanced attraction between caregiver and patient. I weigh my answer carefully, “I feel better. What happened?”. You look down at me and ask, “You don't remember?”. I shake my head. “Nothing?”, You inquire. Again, I shake my head no. “Well, it's probably still a bit early. Your memory will return eventually.” and with that You get up, smile at me with a look of intense happiness and walk out of the room, closing the door behind You. I relish that smile, there was no insincerity in it, I know You love me and are happy that I am doing good. I can't wait for my mind to heal so we can go home together.

I awaken later to darkness, the room once again cast in shadow. I hear the faintest sounds coming from the hallway, the heavy door masking them almost to the point of keeping them out of my room. I watch as the door swings slowly open and You step out of the pitch hallway and into the only slightly less black room. You are wearing the lab coat again but as You move across the room You open it and reveal that You have nothing on underneath. I can feel my desire rising for You, pressing against the bed. You drape the lab coat across the end of the bed and slide in next to me. Your skin on mine feels wonderful and I realize that I am stripped naked. You must have come in earlier to check on me and removed my clothes in preparation for this nighttime tryst.

Your body shimmers in the darkness, a slightly less pale image against the light gray of the bedsheets in this darkened room. I roll to my side, marveling at Your perfection, the smooth skin of Your breast, the way Your breathing wavers when I touch You, the way my heart beats faster in Your presence. Looking at You lying there beside me I get a naughty thought. I slide off the bed, kneeling beside You to kiss You tenderly upon the lips. I nuzzle Your cheek and plant another soft kiss just below the ear. Your neck smells wonderful, the scent of Your shampoo mixing with the warm skin smell and the delicate scent of sandalwood. I kiss Your neck a couple times, working my way along that perfect curve, sampling each and every inch of You. Your nipple is erect when my mouth gets to it, and I take it between my lips and suck gently, mimicking the motions a baby might while it attempts to feed for the first time.

I hear Your breath deepen as You exhale hot and heavy into my ear. My hands have been busy, pulling the restraints up to Your arm I lay the thick leather across Your hot skin to fasten it. “Just slightly tighter”, I hear You whisper in the darkness. I comply. I tie the other leather straps similarly as You watch me, an expression of bemusement dances on Your face. In the darkness I can't really see Your face but I imagine that You are smiling, intrigued by this unusual turn of events. When You are securely fastened to the bed spread-eagle I begin again, kissing Your beasts gingerly, nibbling lightly at the base of Your neck, running the tips of my fingers across Your body barely touching the surface. I look around for a blind-fold, anything to keep You from seeing my next touch in the dim light. I wonder casually “Where are my clothes?” but remember the lab coat at the end of the bed. I place it carefully over Your face, making sure that You can still breathe and that Your lips are still available for the occasional kiss.

I spend the next few minutes “Or was it hours?”, I hear that voice in my head ask, again trying to be innocent, playing the hide and seek game with You. Giving Your body different stimulus in different areas, trying to catch You off guard and make You squirm against the restraints. You are good at this game and remain still, challenging me in ways that only You can. I position myself over You, kissing Your body in various spots, licking Your nipples and inhaling sharply to draw cool air across the wet surface. You squirm. I kiss Your belly button, a ticklish spot apparently, You squirm again. I kiss Your pubic area and You moan. I know what You want, but You are bound and I am in control. I run the tip of my tongue up Your side from Your hip to the under-curve of Your breast. I lean forward and take Your earlobe in my teeth, gently squeezing. I whisper to You “Thank goodness You're here”. I lower my body down upon Yours, letting You feel the heat of my skin on Yours, the pressure of my rock hard penis on Your thigh, the warm breath on Your neck. “You are beautiful and I love You with all of my heart, body and soul”, I whisper, “My world is nothing without You”. I kiss Your mouth with passion, reveling in the way You press back, our tongues eager to find each other as if they are long lost twins separated at birth and overjoyed at the prospect of finally meeting each other again. I kiss Your chin and work my way down Your chest, between Your breasts and along the line leading down Your stomach and into the promised land.

I don't know how long I licked and sucked on Your pussy, time ceased to have meaning for me. All that mattered was Your pleasure, Your orgasms. I wanted to make You feel pleasure equal to the pleasure I felt when I am with You. The bedsheets became wet beneath us, each orgasm adding even more moisture to the mess, try as I might to lap it all up before it is wasted. I then undid the leather straps, allowing You to roll on Your side so that we could spoon. My rigid cock pressed into the back of Your thigh, my face buried in Your hair, arms wrapped around You in a protective embrace. I feel Your heart beat, the wet sheets beneath us and the sweat still beading on my brow. I need You, want You, want to feel You from the inside, like that song. I wish I could remember the name or the artist but details are so unimportant to me at this moment. I grab my penis and maneuver it between Your legs, sliding into the dripping cunt is easy from behind like this. I make love to You spooning the way we are, slow and deliberate. Holding You in my arms, thrusting from behind as I feel the head of my cock slip into the delicious warmth of Your pussy. The heat which envelops my cock is like a kiln, baking the soft flesh into a rock hard piston, driving itself slowly and surely into Your soft womanhood over and over. I kiss the back of Your shoulder, then, on the next stroke in I kiss Your neck. “You are a Goddess”, I whisper with the following thrust.

It takes less than 10 minutes for my slow methodical movements to bring me to orgasm. I shudder, continuing to hold You and spill my load inside of You. New heat envelops our lovemaking, and my cock is able to withstand a few more thrusts before it begins the inevitable shrinking trick that most men suffer from. I decide to leave it in, preferring to hold You and kiss Your neck in the dark hours before dawn. I lay there spooning with You and marvel at the intensity of our sexual practices, and the variety of the things we do together. Most would call us crazy for the things we did. I think they are the crazy ones, hiding behind the known safety of routine, never experiencing the total abandon that comes with giving one's self over to another in submission. Alas, mine is not to judge, they do what they can to experience happiness and security in their worlds, I do what I can to experience them in mine. Nobody has the answers, nobody is right or wrong, everyone is master of their own happiness and free to experience it however they choose.

I must have drifted off because I wake sometime later. I'm not sure how long it has been, though it can't have been too long, sunlight peers through the dirty window, illuminating the room from dismal gray to bleak blue. I turn to see if You are still here. You are not. I am dressed now, my clothes drenched in sweat or our love making I am not sure. The bedsheets too are still drenched and I feel achy for having slept in the humid mess. I hear the door and look up expectantly, hoping to see You. It is only the male orderly again, bringing me my colorless breakfast which he sets on the foot of the bed and leaves, not even noticing the mess we have made.

I sit up, trying to remember why I am here. I am still unable to summon up images of the past. I am not worried, You said I would get my memory back someday. I trust You, I love You. I eat my food, still colorless but not so bland today. I am sure it was You who added a bit of flavor to my food, because You love me as much as I love You. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a somewhat soft place to sleep and I have You. Who could ask for anything more?

I had gotten off work early. I usually left work early in the day, showing up equally early in the morning in an effort to beat the perpetually laborious traffic of rush hour, but this day I left extra early...I had plans.

I went home, pulling the ingredients out of the fridge that I had bought the previous night. I ran over my mental checklist one more time, insuring that I had gathered all the necessary ingredients. I filled a large pot with water, salting it to taste as I had done hundreds of times before. Living in Italy had taught me many things, one of which was that you cannot ever measure exactly, you have to taste what you are cooking if you want to get the spices right. I boiled the penne until they were still a bit dense in the center, I knew they would cook some more in the oven and didn't want them to over cook. There is nothing worse than pasta that falls apart when you stab it with your fork.

While the water boiled for the pasta, I fried the sausage in a skillet with some olive oil and mushrooms. I used only a small amount of finely diced onion as I knew she didn't like onions but I wanted the hint of flavor they give to be in the sauce. I sifted through the crushed tomatoes insuring that no stray skins snuck into my sauce, she didn't like that either. So many things to remember about her likes and dislikes, but I enjoyed the challenge of it all and didn't mind the extra work for she truly was something special.

I simmered the sausage in the sauce while the pasta cooked, adding some more ingredients to the sauce to give it that personal touch. When the pasta was semi-cooked as I wanted it, I mixed it and the sauce in a terra-cotta casserole dish that I had brought over from Italy when I had moved back a few years ago. Carried the thing in my carry-on luggage since I couldn't trust the airlines not to break it in the transport. Mixed in some cubed mozzarella cheese and a generous sprinkling of parmesian to give it that delightful bite that fresh parmesian has. I covered the dish in foil, loaded the car and headed to her house.

The car filled with the aroma of tomato sauce and sausage as I drove, making my stomach growl eagerly in anticipation of the meal. I ignored it as best I could, glancing over at the bottle of wine I had picked out for this occasion. I had spent days searching in stores for the perfect bottle. She wasn't typically a drinker but I wanted this night to be perfect. I hoped that this gesture (like everything I did for her) would make her feel special, give her even a fraction of the joy that she brought to my life. I had finally found a brand I knew from Italy at an obscure farmers market that would go well with the earthy tones of the meal.

Once at her house, I placed the still covered dish in the oven and set it low, knowing there was still an hour until she arrives home exhausted and stressed from work and the horrible 5pm traffic. I busied myself with clearing the table, placing the items neatly on the counter where she could find them, making sure the rest ended up in its designated spot. The floor was vacuumed and the shelves and knickknacks were dusted. The table was set with plates and silverware. Everything was starting to come together nicely. I glanced at my watch and realized she would be home shortly. I jumped in the shower and freshened up, noticing the smell of baked pasta as I re-entered the main living area of the house, clean and feeling good about myself.

She walked in the front door, greeting me with a smile. Her face took on an inquisitive look as she began to notice the smells and work that I had done for Her. In that moment, Dressed in the neat somewhat conservative outfit she had worn to work with the bright light from outside framing her from behind, a smile still on her lips and that look of recognition on her face, she was the most beautiful creature I had seen in my life. I felt an overpowering urge come over me.

I closed the distance between us, cupping her face in my hands and kissing her full on the lips, my desire for her in that instant too much for me to ignore. I press myself against Her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her to me, inhaling the faint smell of her perfume mixed with the smell of her skin and hair. I pull her around the couch into the dining area, turning her around and hugging her from behind as I nuzzle her neck, hearing her soft moan as my lips graze that sensitive spot in the hollow where the neck meets the collar bone. My lips and hands caress her skin as I let my desire be known without speaking a word. My hands travel along her sides, resting on her hips momentarily before finally coming around to caress that ass that I covet so much. I feel her push back against me as my hands work their way around her backside, caressing, kneading, touching her.

I kneel behind her, kissing my way down her back, hands tugging gently on her slacks. I slide the thin material off her hips and let it fall to the floor at her ankles, my attention focused on Her. I caress her warm skin, hearing her ask in that ironic and playful way she has "What are you doing?". "Worshiping you and the ground You walk on, as always" I answered, returning my lips to her sweet skin. I could taste the salt on her skin, feel the heat of her body on my lips, smell the pasta cooking in the kitchen, overloading my senses in such a wonderful way.

I push gently on her back and she leans over the back of the couch, making her ass a much easier target for my attentions. I press my face to it, loving the feel of my tongue on her skin as I trailed it along a cheek towards her inner thigh. I grin, seeing her pussy from behind like that, covered in the flimsy lace panties, almost as if it were trying to peek out at me from behind a veil. I run my flat tongue across her panties, letting her feel the pressure and heat through the thin material. I lick the material repeatedly, wetting it with my saliva, warming the wet cloth with my breath and tongue on each pass. I get bold, slipping the tip of my tongue under the edge of her panties, letting it trail along the edge of her labia in a slow and deliberate stroke. She shudders and doesn't resist as I pull her panties down over her hips, letting them rest on her slacks.

My lips again seek out what they desire and press themselves as if of their own accord to her clit, kissing it gently moments before my tongue snakes out and flicks across it. My face presses into her as my tongue begins to work its way around her pussy, tasting and licking all over, playing over her skin like a butterfly plays across a field of wildflowers. I moan now as the taste of her now excited pussy combined with her soft vocalizations give me an instant erection. I stand, loosing my pants as I do so, letting them fall where they may. I penetrate her from behind, adding my own sigh of pleasure to hers as my cock slips into the wet warmth of her vagina.

My hands grab hold of her hips and pull her back against me. The motion is almost not needed as she pushes herself onto me, bumping her ass on my stomach. The feel of her enveloping my rigid cock sends shivers up my spine adding to the pleasure of the moment. My excitement grows quickly as the pace increases, feeling her soft backside bouncing on my skin, the warm sides of her cunt massaging my cock, her labia gripping it as it slides in and out of her. I can barely contain myself, cumming hard without so much as a warning that it was time, adding more warmth to her already heated vagina.

My cock slips in and out of her now slippery cunt, losing its erection almost as fast as it came. I smirk, thinking about the curse which has been put on males that makes them so inadequate once they have achieved orgasm, shriveling their once proud cocks into soft useless shafts of floppy flesh. I pull out, not too worried about her pleasure as my lips haven't had their fill yet. I kneel again, pressing my tongue between her labia. I can taste the difference now, my cum mixing with her dripping pussy on my tongue. I lick what I can from her lips, diving my tongue deep into her, savoring each new taste of our love making. Finally I set my tongue in motion, licking in and out across her lips. I keep it dry, using the taste buds on the surface of my tongue to give her a more coarse feel as I slide it rapidly back and forth across her clit. Her moans and sighs begin coming more frequently now, her orgasm is close. I can barely breathe, my face pushed into her so hard it cuts off my oxygen. I stop for a second to catch my breath, breathing heavily for a few seconds before diving back in. Her moans have quieted, the brief pause having made the pleasure stop. I slowly lick up the cleft of her pussy, using the tip of my tongue to circle and play with her pouting labia. I send my tongue back inside, tasting more of her excitement and moaning at the sweetness of it on my tongue.

I again press my face close, making my tongue move against her clit, quickly stimulating the nerves that are huddled there. I can hear her voice getting louder and louder. I hold my breath and continue licking furiously. Stopping now for another breath of air would bring her back down, and I want her to cum for me now. My tongue presses harder against her, rubbing her clit between it and her pelvic bone. She gasps and presses herself back against my face. I press face into her even more, the lack of oxygen causing my head to spin, but my tongue keeps working, bringing that orgasm to a tremendous climax. Her body shudders and I smile, lapping and swallowing her orgasm as it drips from her lips.

I lead her into the bathroom and help her shower, cleaning the sweat and cum from her body as delicately as I can muster. Washing her body as if it were the most precious thing in the world, and to me it is. She is my Queen, and I will do anything within my power to insure she is pampered. I help her into a Japanese Kimono and lead her into the dining room to partake of the delicious meal I have prepared. I smile again, and hug her, letting her know just how happy she makes me.

I was happy. Not just happy, I was excited. Normally I try to be a happy positive person but today I didn't have to try. Today was special. My package had arrived and I was going to get it later that evening. But I get ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning.

I had been to the club now on numerous occasions. I had met new people that I now called friends and had spent many a Saturday night enthralled at the sights and sounds. It wasn't a dance club, though folks tended to dress up and show off their latest outfits in much the same way those club attendees do. You can walk around and see the heavyset woman proudly wearing the corset she just purchased from the online clothing store in the UK. You can observe both men and women making a fuss over a pair of new boots purchased from DSW just last week. You can see the perky woman wearing her new fishnets taken directly from the shelves of Victoria's Secret. From slutty to classy and everything in between, people came together to celebrate the beauty of the human body in all of it's glorious shapes and sizes. It is no wonder that so many who do not fit societies ideal of beauty find comfort within its walls.

After finding my own way into this subculture (a story for another time perhaps) I had grown accustomed to the socializing and acceptance that this place seemed to embody for its members. I had become well known and never failed to elicit a smile and a "Hello" from everyone I encountered. I felt at home here, more so than I have ever felt before, and my return smile announced that fact to everyone I met without having to use words or any other equally inadequate means of communication. The club and my new found friends made me happy. Tonight however, I was happier than usual. Tonight I was taking a huge step and it made me excited and apprehensive all at once. The feeling was intoxicating.

A couple of weeks past I had ordered a full set of leather bindings for my wrists and ankles. I had done some research online and found sites that would sell them but how do you order if you don't know your size? Sure there are measurement ranges and tables you can use but I needed to be sure. I asked around and as luck would have it one of my friends could have them custom made for me, all she needed was a tape measure and she would take the measurements herself to insure that it was done correctly. After measuring my wrists and ankles she placed the order and assured me that if they didn't fit properly she would have them redone. I had gotten the email from her two days ago, the cuffs were ready. Now it was Friday evening and as I drove home from work I was ecstatic.

I hurriedly threw some leftovers in the microwave, not paying much attention to the container I pulled from the fridge. I punched 3 minutes on the timer, pressed the start button and rushed upstairs to take a shower. I hadn't done any heavy lifting at work but I was covered in nervous sweat. I heard the microwave alarm sound from the kitchen as I was getting into the shower, the food could cool in the microwave a for a few minutes I decided and stepped into the steaming waterfall. The hot water felt good on my back, rinsing off the sweat chill and soothing tense muscles in my shoulders that I hadn't realized were knotted so much. I sighed, a contented little grin on my face, as I leaned against the now warm tiles in the shower and let the hot water wash over my body. I could feel each hot water jet prick my skin as it hit, almost too hot to touch. My chest and back turned beet red as the water streamed down and into the drain. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, the steam filling my nostrils and lungs, warming me to the core. When the heat reached a level that was too hot to bear, I turned off the shower and stood in the warm mist for a few seconds, dripping into the shower stall. Using the large Egyptian cotton bath towel I dried off lightly, allowing the last bits of moisture to evaporate and help cool my angry red flesh.

Feeling 100% better after the hot shower I wrapped a bath robe around me and went downstairs to my meal. I ate quickly, not savoring the food as I usually do. My mind was too focused on the expected treasure that would be waiting for me when I arrived at the club. I dressed in a simple black T-shirt and jeans. Having no leather items in my closet, my wardrobe choice was somewhat more limited than the female club goers. I almost envied them their expansive choice in outfits and could now understand the draw of cross-dressing. Nobody was going to be excited over my outfit, none would flock to see my shoes and make a fuss over my new shirt.

I sat on the couch, miffed that it wasn't 8pm yet. The club opened at 8 and I had rushed home earlier than my normal 5pm wanting to beat the traffic and make sure I had enough time to get ready before heading out to the club. Now it was 6:30pm and I had more than an hour to kill before the doors opened. I should have taken more time to prepare and eat my meal. I should have stayed at work until 5, but I did not and so I sat, nowhere to go and nothing to do, feeling more and more helpless as time crept forward, surely slowing down to taunt me on this of all days!

When I arrived at the club, I asked the woman behind the desk if M was there. She wasn't. Drat, my anxiety rose another three levels as I tried to remain calm. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning who has woken to see all the gifts beneath the tree but must wait until his parents have finished dressing and come into the living room before the merriment can begin. Thankfully there were a few friends there, so I struck up a conversation to pass the time. I hope that I was able to remain calm on the outside. Inside I was total mess, imagining all sorts of calamities or life issues cropping up which would prevent her from coming to the club tonight. Each scenario progressively worse as the minutes ticked slowly on the clock in the lobby. Seven fifty-eight, she's going to be late, the clock mocked me from across the room. Eight-oh-two, what if she forgot about you? Damn I need to quit looking at that clock...

When she finally did arrive, she hadn't forgotten. She had them with her. I was barely able to keep the excitement out of my voice as I asked if I could see them. See them? Why you need to try them on to make sure they fit! she remarked. She removed a pair of wide black leather straps, perhaps two inches across and a good 8 inches long. They were suede on one side with a dull matte finish on the other. A leather strap had been bolted to the smooth side, a D ring attached in the center and a curious buckle on the end which had a looped stop. She must have seen my puzzled expression and said "to insert a lock" as an explanation of the strangely looped metal stop. She wrapped the leather around my wrist, suede side down and pulled the thin strap through the buckle. I could see that instead of holes there were half inch gashes cut for the looped stop. She slid the stop through one of the slits and threaded the strap through the single metal loop at the back end of the buckle. The leather fit snugly, as if someone were holding my wrist but not so much that I couldn't move my hand. Once on I could see how the loop would permit a lock to be attached, preventing the strap from being taken out of the buckle without first removing the lock. She helped me with the second cuff and looked up at me smiling. "How do they fit?" she inquired. "Snug", I replied, "but not uncomfortable."

I hefted my hands, feeling the weight of the leather on my wrists. The feeling was not unlike wearing a new style of shoes for the first time, the weight and balance of your movements seems off but not so much that you trip and fall, just enough to make you aware that you have on something new. The thick leather restricted wrist bending movements somewhat but nothing that that made it impossible to use my hands. In a few minutes my brain had adjusted to the new weight and the suede had warmed some, feeling much like the soft warm touch of a lover. At this point she asked to feel my hands. They were not cold and she explained the necessity to insure that they were not so snug as to cut off circulation. They were not and she asked if I would like to have locks put on them to get the full effect. At this point I was in heaven and would have agreed to almost anything. I said yes. She then produced a length of chain and showed me different ways that it could be linked to the cuffs. She looped one end of the chain through each of the D rings and clicked a third lock through the ends of the chain links creating a continuous loop about a foot long. This would give me range to move my hands and do some tasks while making it easy to grasp and pull along by my partner if I were not behaving. She unlocked the luggage lock, and holding one end of the chain, pulled the other end, forcing my hands closer together. She put the lock through a link close to beginning of the chain, keeping the D rings less than an inch apart and leaving an 18 inch section chain hanging. This configuration she explained worked much like a leash and as a matter of fact, you could have attached a dog leash to the end of the chain and it would have worked perfectly, forcing me to go wherever the chain was pulled.

I thanked her and smiled, knowing that I would find many other ways to use the cuffs in the future. She asked if I wanted the chain removed and I replied no. The chain added more weight to my hands and I wanted to see what an extended period of wearing them felt like. She asked who she should leave the key with, grinning slightly. She must have seen the twinkle in my eye, knowing that I was hooked and smiling because she was making yet another dream come true. I said she could keep it, not that it meant anything, but that I did trust her not to leave before I had returned to have them removed. I wandered off into the club to see what I could see, thoroughly enjoying the feel of restricted security on my arms.

The chain bounced as I walked, swinging to and fro between my legs, bouncing off them as each swung forward in stride. That light tapping at my inner thighs coupled with the slight feeling of helplessness from my bound hands and the warm weight of the cuffs on my wrists was having an unexpected effect on me. I could feel myself become aroused. Oddly I was embarrassed by this so I pulled the chain up into a bunch and held it quietly in my hands, letting them hang in front of me and cover the mound in my jeans that was surely visible to each and every person in the large play space. I moved to the break room, where refreshments were typically served. This night was no exception and I happily busied myself testing my ability to carry out simple tasks while bound. Some of my friends saw the cuffs and commented appreciatively. I smiled, telling them that I was testing them out and if they fit properly then I would be purchasing an entire set. Each task tried was not hard, but it took some time to get used to the single point of contact. I could not, for instance hold a bottle of soda and pour into a cup held in the other hand, making each action a multiple step process.

After eating and drinking a bit and socializing some with the newly arrived folks in the break room I decided to move back out into the main play space to enjoy some of the nights more lascivious entertainment as a voyeur. As I walked in from the break room SHE entered the play space. SHE had been around a few times before. I had admired her from afar, not knowing whether she was attached, I had preferred to let my lust build observing her actions and movements from a distance before I decided to speak to her. A few weeks ago we had actually spoken and had gotten to know a bit about each other but there was still so much more to know before I would be willing to suggest a date. On this night, SHE wasn't wearing a fancy outfit, no period dress, no slimming corset, not even a sexy evening dress. She was dressed simply in a black T-shirt purchased at a Rock concert many years ago from the looks of it, a pair of nice fitting jeans and some very comfortable looking plain black pumps. My eyes followed her figure down from her face, lightly freckled with just the hint of lipstick, giving her a very nice soap and water girl next door look. The T fit snugly across her breasts, curving in to a normal waist before terminating in the beginnings of her wonderfully flared hips. The jeans were a dark blue, didn't look worn at all, and clung to her hips and legs as if they had been painted on, flaring only slightly at the foot where they danced about the pumps, playing hide and seek with the toes.

I heard myself inhale sharply and caught myself before my knees buckled. To this day I am not sure what it was that made her so attractive to me on that day. I had seen her many times before, both dressed up and casual, but on this day SHE was exceptional. I wandered over to say hello and she smiled, visibly brightening her face as she recognized me. Hello she said, her smile continuing to grow as we hugged. She noticed the cuffs and remarked that they looked good on me. I smiled back even broader, lifting my arms to her so she could see that I was pre-chained. Her demeanor dropped a bit when she noticed the locks. "Who has the key?" she asked a bit accusingly. I didn't understand at the time her concern but explained that I was testing them out and that the person to whom they belonged held the key as a measure of faith on my part that I would not leave without paying for them and so that she could then order a full set for me when I returned to tell her that they fit and I had no problems with them during the evening.

She smiled warmer now, and said "Oh, so you need to test them do you?". I saw the mischievous sparkle in her eye that had drawn me to her the first time I saw her and melted inside. I felt my head nod, as if of its own accord, though I wouldn't have disagreed with the acknowledgment. She smiled and picked up the end of the chain. I thanked the Fates that my previous excitement had died down and let her lead me into a side room. This particular side room had a winch on the wall to a steel cable which ran through a pulley attached to a cross beam under the industrial ceiling. She lowered the huge hook and placed the chain on it, raising it again to extend my arms above my head. These cuffs were not made for suspension so she stopped with my feet flat on the floor. My hands were extended over my head, not to the point of pulling, but enough that I could not stretch higher and unhook myself.

She gazed at me with those jade green eyes, piercing my soul in an attempt to gauge just how far I would be willing to go. Until now I had never participated in any of the goings on at the club, I had been a voyeur, on a journey of self exploration and learning, trying to discover the things that I truly wanted to do. On this night, I was an impromptu participant, wanting to give in and finally experience the things I had seen and imagined yet knowing that I shouldn't. SHE moved closer to me, still fixing me with those beautiful eyes, her smile deeper more genuine than it had been a moment ago. She walked up to me as if we were flamenco dancers, placing her hand on my shoulder she moved close enough to whisper in my ear: "Would you give yourself to me?". Before I could answer she stepped out of my field of vision trailing her hand across my chest as she moved behind me. A million and a half nuances to that question raced through my mind as I tried to understand exactly what she was asking. I felt her breath on my ear a split second before I heard her whisper again from behind me: "Would you make that choice freely this night?". Damn, my heart was racing, my mind reeled, never had I thought a few words could have had such an affect on me. Her hand passed down my side and rested on my hip. I could feel her presence behind me, close yet not touching me with anything but her hand. Her voice drifted into my other ear "I would show you things...if you would only allow me to." I thought I might lose it as my mind flashed image after image of things it wanted her to show me. Brief clips of motion video played for me in my mind of things I wanted to do with her, naughty things, sexual things.

SHE came back into view from the other side, still smiling, still trailing her hand across my back and side again to perch on my shoulder. "Well?" She said, "Will you be my plaything for an evening?". I nodded, not knowing what I was getting into, not caring where this was going. All I knew was that I wanted her, no I NEEDED her in that moment, more than I had ever wanted anyone else in my life. She stepped into me, pulling me to her so that I felt her pressing against me, warmth covering me from head to toe. In hindsight I imagine I was flushed, but then and there, transfixed by her intoxicating eyes, I would have sworn it was my desire for her that had consumed my clothing and was heating the room. She looked me dead in the eye and asked again, "You freely give yourself over to my desires for this evening?". I agreed and she continued. "Is there anything you don't want me to do?". My mind, body and soul all agreed that there was nothing, but something tickled at the back of my head and thankfully took control saying "No blood, no permanent damage.". She smiled evilly and taunted, "Nothing is permanent in this world. What do you mean by 'permanent'?". My mind reveled in the nuances of the intellectual dance, the possibilities of everything spread before me and I didn't know how to answer. I tried to focus on her but only succeeded in drowning in those eyes and the heady smell of her breath in my face. Thankfully again that tickle and I heard my mouth say "Nothing that will not go away in less than a day.".

SHE nodded acknowledgment and whispered in my ear again. "Do not move, or you will be punished." I had no idea what form punishment would take but thought to myself I couldn't move more than in inch or two if I wanted to strung up here like this. She reached around behind me and grabbed my ass, pulling me into her as if she wanted to fuck me through my clothes, our faces fractions of an inch apart. HER lips were so close I could almost feel them on mine, her eyes green seas upon which my mind floated, her hands holding me to her as her breasts pressed pleasantly on my chest and her thigh pressed against my growing erection. I wanted to kiss her, but was bound by the threat of punishment. She held me for what seemed like forever, the torture of my desire for her making me quiver, my lips yearned to pucker slightly and taste hers, to know what those silken strips felt like pressed against mine.

Finally she let go, smiling at me as if I had passed some sort of test and took a small step back. She slid down my body, passing her hands over the lumps in my shirt from my erect nipples. She stopped, kneeling on the floor in front of me, her face in front of my crotch. I wanted to move my hands down to hide my erection from her, embarrassed at having been so completely taken with desire, but I was locked in this position as much from the cable as from my desire to do what she asked of me. She undid my pants, let the zipper down as slowly as she could, watching me from the floor to see how uncomfortable this made me. There was no door on the side room, any number of people could have come in. "Would I be even more embarrassed to let them see my erection?" her laughing eyes seemed to say.

She pulled my cock out and held it in her hand. I could feel it throbbing, I didn't care who was watching, my desire was complete, any inhibition consumed in that all-encompassing flame. She looked up at me, kissed the head of my cock gently, and put it back in my pants, gingerly zipping them up over it and returned to stand in front of me. "I am so sorry" she said, "I already have other plans tonight and cannot tarry much longer." As she let the winch down enough that I could remove the chain from the hook, she explained, "I only came to say hello to a few friends before I left to go out of town this weekend. I must go home to pack." I could see the pain in her eyes, I could read her body language. She too wanted me, wanted to continue our game, to show me pleasures and sensations that I couldn't even imagine. "I will be back in a couple of weeks, by then you should have the full set and we can set aside an entire evening to explore different ways to use them." I nodded agreement, still too flushed with desire to form words. With that she turned and walked out of the room. I followed her, watching her ass and hips sway in those perfectly fitting jeans as she made her way across the main playroom and out into the lobby. I had heard the saying "I hate to see her go, but love to watch her walk away" many times before but didn't have a full appreciation of that phrase until this precise moment.

I returned to the key holder, had her remove the locks and promptly ordered the rest of the set. I would be ready for when she returned. In the mean time, my dreams would be haunted by those eyes, those lips, and the unspeakable things we would do when she returned.