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Posted: 4/10/2008 2:04:57 PM
She knew he wanted to try some kinky stuff.

She had always resisted the idea before, but now she thought that maybe she would try it. Anyway, there was something quite exciting at the idea of dominating him sexually.

She started to plan it.

She knew he wanted to be tied to the bed. He had hinted at it often enough. She knew he liked to be between her legs, and to kiss and to lick her down there. He had always shown an interest in whips and in similar implements, and she had noticed he seemed particularly turned-on when she was a little rough when they made love.

She was determined to enjoy this. She had some ideas of her own, and although she was not sure he would enjoy it all, once he was tied to the bed he would have very little choice...
He came home at the usual time, about half an hour later than he had promised he would be home. She said nothing. After he had eaten, she suggested an early night. He agreed. Of course he agreed. An early night meant only one thing, unless she had already said that she had a headache in which case it meant something completely different. Tonight, she had no headache.

She had put on her sexiest underwear under her clothes, but he had not noticed. It was that mesh body stocking he had kept on asking her to buy for herself. She had only ever worn it twice before this evening. He climbed into bed after he had turned off the lights and put his arm over her as usual. She felt him react as he discovered what she was wearing.

She turned towards him, pushing him gently onto his back and moving on top of him. She straddled his chest, kneeling up and she grasped one of his hands. He did not resist as she moved it towards the corner of the brass frame at the head of the bed, nor even as she slipped the loop of rope over his wrists and tightened it. She did the same to his other wrist, tightening both to stretch his arms far apart to the top corners of the bed.

Now he could hardly move at all, but she had not yet finished. She climbed from him and out of bed, then pulled down the bedclothes. At the bottom of the bed she had attached longer ropes around the legs of the bed, and now she put the loops around his ankles pulling them tight and tightening still further so that his legs were drawn far apart until he was spread-eagled, helpless.

“This is what you like, isn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded, unable to speak. But he seemed unsure.

She climbed back onto him, rubbing her legs and body against him to give him the full sensation of the body stocking she wore. She knelt upright astride his chest.

“Want to lick me?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

She moved forward over his face and lowered herself slowly towards him, pulling apart the split between the legs of her body stocking. She gripped the sides of his head with her thighs, keeping his head motionless as she pushed him to exactly where she wanted him.

She felt his tongue on her and inside her. It was good, very good, but not quite yet everything she wanted. She moved backwards and forwards slightly, identifying the position where his mouth and nose would be completely covered. She pushed down onto him, holding her position until he started to squirm in an effort to be able to breathe.

She moved up away from him for a moment. “Don’t wriggle,” she said, “That’s naughty.”

She gently slapped his cheek, paused, then slapped him a little harder.

“Now keep completely still until I tell you to move.”

She lowered herself onto him again, pushing downwards, gripping, then holding herself completely motionless on top of him. She squeezed with her muscles, flexing them to squeeze his face, but counting the seconds tick away as she smothered him and enjoying the power she now had over him.

It was nearly a minute before she lifted herself from him and heard his gasp as he was able to breathe properly. She waited just a few seconds, and once more she descended onto him to trap him, airless, beneath her. For only half a minute this time she smothered him, then lifted for just long enough for him to draw breath. That was long enough, just the one quick intake of breath and she was down on him again. And again. And again. And again.

It was good, very good, and there was something incredibly exciting in the power she had over him, something that was at least as arousing as the physical sensation of his face underneath her.

It was some considerable time before she tired of it. Finally, reluctant to stop but wanting and needing to try something more, different, she lifted herself and turned round, sitting down almost immediately in reverse on his face. This time he could breath, for the moment at least, yet the weight of her body crushing down onto him as her fleshy buttocks pressed on either side of his face frightened him as much as the lack of air had done.

She sat upright, and reached down to his chest. She took each of his nipples between her finger and thumb and squeezed gently. He flinched. She released the pressure for a moment, and then started to rub, roll, squeeze and pinch rhythmically.
She could see that although he was finding it uncomfortable, he also found it arousing. She kept doing it for many minutes.

She leaned forward and grabbed his throbbing manhood, holding it firmly in one hand and squeezing. She did not rub him, pull him, or move her hand up and down on him. She felt his arousal that was so much more than just his hardness. She felt the twitches, the urges, the slight movement of his hips that silently begged her to move as he wanted, needed, her to move. She did not want that. She did not want that yet. She made sure he could feel her fingernails digging into his skin.

Pulling it towards her, she reached her other hand to its end. Gently, she ran one fingernail over and around. He hardly reacted at first, so she pressed her fingernail more and more firmly as she moved her hand. His body bucked with the discomfort now, yet the rougher she was with it the more it seemed to harden. She rubbed the palm of her hand over its end, alternating between this and the fingernail.

Finally, she leaned all the way forward until her face was touching him and he felt her warm breath. For a second he thought she was going to suck him, but she took him between her teeth and gripping firmly she raked her teeth up and down its whole length, nibbling and biting the end. Careful not to do damage or to draw blood, she gripped, then scratched, then bit. Each time he made any noise, she pushed herself firmly over his mouth to silence him.

This, too, lost its interest for her after a while. In any case, she did not want him to become so sore that his arousal started to ebb – at least not yet. She turned round and sat on his stomach, sliding down until she felt his hardness pressing against her buttocks and then moving just a little further down to keep his hardness pushed back a little past the point it could possibly have been comfortable for him. She scratched idly at his chest with her fingernails while she considered what to do next. He asked her to release him. She refused. She threatened to gag him if he didn’t keep quiet, and toyed with the idea of actually doing it. “Maybe next time,” she thought to herself.

She just sat for a while, occasionally dragging her fingernails across his chest, or tweaking his nipples.

She took off her body stocking and moved up his body again. Leaning forward, her breasts brushed his face. She felt his lips on them as he tried to kiss – to suck.

“Naughty,” she said, and slapped his cheek again several times, but not too hard.

She leaned right forward, his face covered completely between her breasts. She pressed her breasts together with her hands, her soft flesh forming an airtight seal round his mouth and nose. She liked this game of breath control. He could breathe only when she chose to let him breathe, and again she felt the feeling of power over him rise within her in and excitement that was far deeper than any physical arousal. Repeatedly she smothered him and released him, varying the time he was covered so that he never knew whether to expect it would last just a few seconds or more than a minute. Sometimes she allowed him to breathe for several seconds, or gave him just the time to catch one quick breath.

She knelt astride his face again. She was naked, now, and she let him look up at her. There was enough light in the darkened room for him to see her, dimly, outlined, sensual yet shadowy and threatening. She let him look for a minute, two minutes, then she came down onto him. With no mesh body stocking between them, her flesh seemed to envelop him totally.

She sat, covering him completely for longer than he thought he could possibly have held his breath, and then she started to move. Steadily, rhythmically, she moved on him as he licked and sucked at her. She concentrated on her own pleasure, not caring or considering whether he was comfortable underneath her. She rocked, wriggled, slid, writhed on top of him until finally she shuddered with extreme pleasure and her muscles gripped at him so tightly he felt almost as though his bones would break.

“Stop licking. Keep still.” she commanded.

She sank down onto him, content to sit motionless while she recovered her breath. Wet, dripping onto his face and not inclined to move until she had recovered completely. Again he could breathe, but the wetness went into his mouth and nose, and he breathed her in with every breath he took.

“Now for you,” she said. “But perhaps not just yet.”

She climbed off him and left the room. She went to the bathroom and dried herself before returning and climbing straight onto him, holding and squeezing his hardness as she directed it deep into her. She knew it would not take long.

She sat still on him, upright. She squeezed with her muscles, watching and feeling for his reaction as she tightened on him. She went on squeezing, not moving her body at all, just her muscles. She could feel and see the excitement rising in him, and she slowed and stopped her squeezing until the excitement began to slacken, then once again she started..

It was more than thirty minutes before she made any real movement, and then it was controlled and almost methodical. Her slow, deliberate movements went all the way up until she nearly left him completely, and then moved equally slowly and equally controlled all the way down again. She rested her hands on his chest to take her weight, but keeping her body as upright as possible to allow the maximum possible sensation from the slow, steady up and down movements. She felt the twitch and thrust of his hips, willing her to move faster, to finish it. She would not be hurried. She enjoyed the feeling of him deep inside her, and the slight friction against her, inside, as she kept her movement steady and controlled.
Eventually she started to move faster. Slowly increasing the speed and she felt his breathing quicken and the movement of his hips as he thrust upwards, pulling against the ropes that held him tightly to the bed. Faster and faster until he exploded into her.
She stopped for a minute, concentrating on feeling him inside her. She knew he really wanted her to finish now, so she started again. Now she forced herself up and down on him in smaller movements until finally as he contracted he was no longer inside her. Still she didn’t leave him alone, reaching down with her hand and gripping and squeezing him. She lay on the bed beside him now, continuing to grip, squeeze and rub.

She would not stop this for at least five minutes and then, perhaps, she would leave him alone. Or if there seemed any possibility he might rapidly become hard again, and she would climb back onto him and repeat it.

She had finished now. She really had finished. She ought to untie him.

She thought about it, and decided she should keep him there for a while.

She just had not decided for how long. Perhaps she would go, wash, and then sit on his face once more, or perhaps she would not. It really was her choice.

She was thinking about what she could do next time. Perhaps she could be a little more adventurous. She was SURE he would not mind whatever she tried...


It was time she let him go before the muscles in his arms and legs stiffened too much from being held in the same position, spread-eagled on the bed tied to each corner.

But first she wanted to ensure she kept her control over him. She had just the thing to do it, bought from one of those mail order Internet sites and kept hidden in the bottom of one of her drawers for the last few weeks.

The drawer was crammed with clothes. It took her several minutes to find it, deep underneath layers of underwear and wrapped in a pair of old and unexciting socks.

Four tough metal rings held together by leather straps, with a fifth slightly larger ring set further away from the others that could be opened wide or locked shut. Quickly, touching him as little as was absolutely necessary to position it properly, she attached it firmly round his manhood and locked it into place.

Perfect, she thought. He could pee with it on, but there was no way he could be unfaithful or even any way he could relieve any frustration. In fact, there was no way he was going to become hard with that fixed on him. The rings were far too small to allow a full erection. They might possibly allow some movement she thought, and she wondered whether he would find it uncomfortable or even painful if he became excited. She hoped so.

Perhaps she should have bought the one with little spikes on the inside of the rings.

Perhaps she would buy it.

She looked at him lying there, still completely under her control. He seemed to be asleep, exhausted. Time to wake him up. She turned on the light.

She knelt over him again, and slowly lowered herself to within an inch of his face. "Wake up," she said softly, "Look what I have for you."

He opened his eyes and looked at her, immediately starting to stiffen. She saw his startled look as he filled and pressed against the metal rings. She laughed. “That should stop you misbehaving,” she said, “Now get off to work and don’t be late home.”

In the bathroom he examined the device restraining him, but there was no way he could remove it without cutting the metal or the leather straps, and it would take something tougher than a pair of scissors to get through either. He dressed hurriedly and left for work.

He had an uncomfortable day. The rings and leather straps rubbed on him as he moved. Each time this happened he started to stiffen, only to find himself held back and restrained. The larger locked ring was pulled forward painfully as the smaller rings filled and strained. Over and over again this happened, and it took only the slightest stimulus to start it off.

He arrived home early.

“You got to take this thing off me,” he told her crossly.

“I will,” she said, “Show me.”

He did not need any encouragement to drop his trousers and pants. She looked at the restrainer critically.

“You’ve been naughty, “ she said accusingly. “You’ve been getting hard without my permission.”

“I can’t help it,” he replied, “Just take it off. Please.”

“All right. Bend over the back of that chair and I will take it off. I promise.”

He bent over the back of the dining-room chair she indicated. She produced two lengths of cord and started tying them round his wrists. He pulled away.

“Do you want that restrainer removed or not?” she asked angrily.

He leaned over the chair again, not resisting her this time as she secured his wrists to the legs of the chair. She checked, testing the cords to make sure he could not slip out of them, and then tied his ankles to the back legs of the chair, ensuring he could not move.

She produced a small key, and with a little difficulty removed the locking ring and slid the device off him. His manhood sprang forward rigidly.

“Well,” she said, “That’s bigger than I’ve seen it for a long time.”

“But,” she went on, “You still need to be punished for misbehaving – for even thinking about misbehaving without my permission.”

She left the room and returned with a riding crop that she waved in front of his face.

“A dozen strokes of this will do for a start.”

She raised the crop and brought it down across his buttocks, not too hard. He flinched, but said nothing. Gaining confidence, she put more force into the second blow, and increased the power again and again as the crop struck his buttocks repeatedly. As she reached the twelfth stroke she had promised, he yelped audibly with the pain.

“Poor little man,” she said, “Did it sting a little?”

She put her hand on his buttocks and stroked them quite affectionately. With her other hand she explored in front of him, feeling the hardness still as large and firm as it had been when she released it. Perhaps, even, it was larger and firmer.

“I believe you enjoyed that,” she said.

He started to protest that he had not enjoyed it at all, but she shut him up. “Let’s see what we can do with this,” she said, giving him a squeeze.

She had another device she wanted to try, something else she had bought from that Internet site. It was a very special glove, made from thin rubber, but on its palm and on each finger and thumb were hundreds of tiny metal spikes. Packed closely together, the spikes would merely tickle if run gently over human skin, and holding any part of the body while wearing the glove would produce a sensual feeling rather than any prickling or pain. Gripping hard or smacking however, would produce a different effect altogether.

She put on the glove, and held his manhood gently.

He squirmed, not in pain but in pleasure at the sensation of the glove on him. With her other hand she gently slapped his buttocks, moving the gloved hand up and down him as she smacked.

She could feel his movement, and his urgency for her to rub him to a climax. She moved her hand up and down faster, smacking him with the same rhythm. He was approaching climax – and then she squeezed. She squeezed hard. At the same time as she squeezed she slapped his buttocks repeatedly as hard as she could. The little metal spikes suddenly stopped feeling sensual and dug deeply into his flesh. They were not long enough to draw blood, but quite long enough to cause pain. Slowly and deliberately she squeezed as hard as she could and moved her hand up and down twice. He let out a shout of real pain, and his hardness subsided. She released the pressure.

“I thought you needed some satisfaction?” she asked, tauntingly, “I had better start again.”

He was breathing heavily, and seemed unable to answer. Slowly and gently she teased his manhood into hardness again, rubbing smoothly and starting the gentle rhythmical smacking on his buttocks.

Again, as she increased the speed she could feel he was nearing climax. And again she squeezed hard, slapped hard, and gripped until the hardness subsided.

Ten times she repeated this, and saw he was covered in sweat and his legs trembled, barely supporting him. If his wrists and ankles had not been secured to the chair she was sure he would have been unable to stand.

“Please, please,” he begged, “You just got to let me...”

“Hmm”, she said thoughtfully. “All right, I’ll finish it off. But I’m going to do it the way I want. Agreed?”

“Yes, yes. Please.” At this stage, she thought, he would have agreed to anything, and that thought both surprised and excited her. It was only a day since she had started this and already he was totally under her control. More importantly, she would never have believed how excited it made her. This was perfect. This was what she had always wanted. If only she had discovered it years ago...