She lay there, trembling.
The vibe, small and purple, single battery operated had seemed harmless enough when he’d pulled it out of the drawer. He was expecting company, though didn’t want her to feel like he wasn’t thinking about her and caring for her needs.
His words, full of wicked promise and sweet torment rolled through her brain. “On your back, sweet wench, and spread your thighs wide, hands above your head and crossed at the wrists,” he’d said. The glint in his ocean colored eyes had been lustful and filled with sadistic desire.
The vibe, no longer harmless rested against her clit, turned on full. It was held in place by a deep purple velvet rope wrapped around her thighs and up through the crack of her ass. Her wrists were cuffed in his…and hers favorite steel cuffs. There were two keys, one of which he always kept with him and the other dangled above her head on a hook just barely out of her reach.
She squirmed. She wiggled. She struggled to get away from the vibrations. She struggled to get closer to them.
She moaned. She purred. She sighed in frustrated bliss.
She could hear him down the hall in the living room talking with his guest, laughing every now and then. For a brief moment she wondered if he’d forgotten about her, but she quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous. He loved to torture her. He loved to push her right up to the edge of sanity and occasionally, he’d let her go over, catching her just before she hit the ground.
Glancing around the room, she searched for anything to take her thoughts off of the vibrator, anything at all. She was desperate for a focal point, something she could concentrate on, something to make her forget about the orgasm that shimmered just around the bend in her mind.
It would be so good, she told herself. It would feel amazing and she knew that if she just let go and stopped fighting it, that it would erupt within her. She also knew the guilt she would feel and could imagine the disappointment in his eyes when she confessed. And she would confess for she could hide nothing from him.
“So, how’s my little cunt?” She looked over at the door as he walked in. Stopping beside the bed, he reached over and turned the vibe on high causing her to jolt and tug at her restraints. “Is it swollen and wet after that little session?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Y-yes, master,” she blurted out, her need and lust for orgasm beginning to clamor for priority.
“Are you finding it more difficult not to come? I mean, my little slave cunt hasn’t had release for at least two days.”
His conversational tone was driving her mad. “Yes, master.”
“Good,” he said, turning off the vibrator and slipping a long finger up inside her pussy, sliding it in and out slowly. “You are very wet, slave. I’m pleased. You seem to enjoy this little session.”
He slowly pulled the vibe away from her cunt, dragging the very tip against her raw and sensitive clit. Her back arched off the bed and a whimper escaped her lips. With a few minor adjustments, he had the rope re-positioned to nestle snuggly against her wetness.
His lips caressed her forehead. “I have to run to the store, princess,” he said, sliding the wet sex toy inside her mouth and watched intently as she suckled her own juices off of it. Such a kinky little slut she was. He turned away and walked towards the door, then, as though an idea had just struck him turned back to look at her. “By the way, the more you squirm, the tighter the rope becomes.”
She watched as he walked out, the vibrator still in her mouth, rocking her hips upwards, rubbing herself against the rope. She yanked hard on the cuffs, listening to the metal rattle against the metal of the headboard, taunting her with her captivity. Her breathing was starting to become harsh and labored around the fake cock, and drool slipped from between her lips, sliding down her chin.
She let out a tormented sob.
Rain ran in steady streams down the windows and somewhere a clock ticked off the seconds. She kept trying to count them, to gain a hold on how long it had been since he’d left, but she kept losing hold on her ability to concentrate. The sensations against her clit, so sensitive and acute combined with the uncontrollable upsurge of her pelvis grinding into the taut velvet prison that held her secure.
Her gaze darted wildly around the room as the tension in the bindings tightened. In her mind she cursed him, blessed him, hated him, loved him. She detested her submission and adored his dominance while at the same time, feeling quite the opposite. She struggled against her need to keep masturbating herself against the rope and her wish that the cock in her mouth were real, belonging to him…unrelentingly hard and fucking her face.
“Hello princess. Did you miss me?”
She whipped her head around to see him lounging against the doorframe, casual and unconcerned for her state of frenzied need. He was too wicked by half, she thought, seeing the look on his face and knowing there was no mercy forthcoming.
“Oh dear. You can’t talk can you? Poor baby slut.”
There was not one shred of sympathy in his voice and her frustration only grew at his taunting. He moved towards her, his long fingers caressing her cheek, her jaw, wiping the drool from her chin and smearing it across one of her nipples.
He pulled the vibrator out of her mouth, dragging the tip down her body, teasing her tits and sending volts through her by turning it on high as he rotated it around her areolas. The fingers of his other hand slid between her legs, tugging on the rope.
“You’ve soaked it, my little toy and this is my favorite one, too. You know that I shall have to punish you for ruining the exquisite velvet braids with your cunt juices…albeit delicious cunt juices. Do you have anything to say for yourself, girl?”
He looked at her with one raised eyebrow as he laid the vibe across her nipple. She moaned and whimpered and arched upwards with her whole body.
“P-please master.”
“Please what princess? Does my sweet little wench want to come?” He placed the vibrator on her other nipple, swirling the tip around, arousing her to fevered pitches beyond compare. “Does she need to come?”
“Y-yes please m-master.”
“Such pretty begging. Perhaps I shall let you.” He trailed the tip of the vibrator down her belly and lifted the rope out of the way, sliding the toy slowly all the way inside of her. Her ‘oh god’ moan and shiver of pleasure brought a smile to his face…a wicked and naughty smile. “Then again, perhaps I won’t.”
Her frustrated and agonizing groan was his reward.
He placed the rope back against her clit and turned the plastic dick on high. With his fingers he flicked her nipples, pulled them, twisted them, pinched them. He watched intently as her body undulated and squirmed on the bed. She was frantically trying to reach for the orgasm that shimmered just beyond her reach, hovering there on the horizon of her pleasure, teasing her.
“Such exquisite torture, my little slave cunt,” he murmured softly. “Mine. My torture of you. My pain and my pleasure. Everything you are belongs to me.”
She pulled at the cuffs that bound her wrists and groaned as new heights of sensation rocked her.
“Good girl. Now, I’m going to count down from ten. When I get to one, you may come.”
Her eyes widened excitedly and trepidation filled her. Could she do it? She’d never come on command before. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she came before he reached one? What if… “Y-yes Master.”
“That’s my girl. Ten. Nine. Eight.”
Her hips twisted sharply, her eyes closed, and her tits swelled. Her toes curled into the blanket on the bed.
“Seven.”
She clenched her pelvic and anal muscles, straining.
“Six. Hold on princess.”
She balled her fists up tight and tried counting herself…back down from one hundred.
“Five.”
“Oh god,” she moaned.
“Four.” He leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth, nibbling on the sensitive nub. Her back arched up and her breath caught as the rope tightened a little more, pushing the vibe deeper inside.
“Three. Almost there.” He licked her belly and tickled his way down between her thighs.
She gasped. “M-master.”
“Two.” Whispered against her wet cunt, her scent invading him, filling him, her lust very nearly overwhelming. His cock strained painfully against the inside of his jeans.
Her body shook and spasmed uncontrollably.
“One.”
Her scream filled the apartment, bouncing off the walls. Her body tensed and grew taut…only her hips moved, bucking and fucking themselves against the bindings holding her and the fake cock filling her. The handcuffs rattled obscenely against the iron of the headboard, clanking as she tugged…trying to get away from the orgasm and trying to get inside of it all at the same time.
He watched her, his precious fucktoy coming on command for him. He couldn’t help but smile. She had grown so much for him and for herself. The slave inside of her was more pronounced and she was proud…proud to belong to him, proud to be slave to him, and proud to slave for him.
He touched her forehead with this hand, wiping her brow and stroking the sweat-drenched hair from her face. “My little slave cunt. My little whore. I’m proud of you.”
And he was.
And she smiled.