She tried to get more and more anyway, of course. Where was the fun in being a pretty girl if you weren’t going to milk every idiot you came across for all he was worth? If they wanted to give her things for something she was born with, she was more than fine with it.
A barista came by, asking her if she needed anything, practically panting on her. For the third time, she said no.
Amy had tried to dress a little conservatively for the meeting. She had on a denim miniskirt and fun pink platform sandals, a plain white short-sleeved sweater doing little to hide the substantial curve of her cloth-stretching cleavage. Fun hoop earrings dangled from her ears. With her body, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do to dress stylish and conservatively at the same time.
Where was David? Already, he was five minutes late. She was going to give it another two before storming out. Nobody stood her up.
This coffee meet-up had been giving her anxious pits in her stomach ever since David had asked for it, and double that ever since she had accepted.
David was just some skinny goof who she had worked with for two weeks at the laser tag center in the county before she had quit the job, having used up all the fun from working in such a place. Somehow, he had gotten her number, and texted her incessantly. He was nice enough, she supposed, but she knew he was hopelessly in love with her.
She knew this largely because of the text he sent her a week or so before at 3 AM, reading: “Fuck, Amy, I am so helplessly in love with you.”
She believed him, of course.
Of course he was in love her—lots of guys were. She knew her beauty, while not phenomenal, was of the exact kind that drove guys nuts because she was hot enough to be desired, but not so hot that she was intimidating. She had that kind of “girlfriend” level of hotness that made some actresses so appealing to the male demographic. A gift and a curse...though obviously, Amy felt it was more of a gift. She loved her body—loved the way her jaw was clearly defined, loved the way her tits were so naturally bouncy and firm (and probably always would be, judging from her mother), loved the lovely turn of her legs. Beauty was power in this world, and she had it.
She knew that, and her BFF Catalina knew it too. Catalina was getting married in a month or so to someone purely for power and cash—Amy was, of course, the maid of honor. She and Catalina saw eye-to-eye on everything—how their beauty made them privileged and better than other people, how guys were just suckers who deserved to have their stuff taken away from them, and of course, on David.
Poor, sad, lovably loserish David.
So she had agreed to this meeting only on the terms that this would be their very last meeting, ever. That after this, she had complete power to shut him down and push him out of her life. She already had a speech planned. It ran in her head, over and over, as she waited out the clock:
“David, I think you’re a nice guy and everything, I guess? But really, you are just completely not my type. In this town? I’m practically a goddess. I deserve a guy who is rich, devastatingly handsome, and able to give me everything my heart desires. And you just aren’t, well, any of those things.”
It would be cruel, but she had to be cruel. He wouldn’t get the message if she was nice. Or at least, he hadn’t so far gotten the message when she had been nice in the past. The coffee shop door dinged, and in came David’s shambly dressed form. He wore a thin red hoodie, his rail-like frame barely supporting the skinny jeans hanging loosely around his waist.
Oh god.
He had a present with him.
It was wrapped in a purple box with a red bow. It was about the size of a jewelry box, maybe a little larger. She hoped to god it wasn’t jewelry. She would take it, of course, and wear it if it were pretty, but some part of her would always feel a little naughty, knowing she had gotten it through breaking a boy’s heart. But odds were, with the way David dressed himself, that it would be as ugly as sin. She could just resell it on eBay or something, or have some guy do it for her. It was a game she knew pretty well, after years of having terrible jewelry gifted to her. Why was the taste of men so awful all the time?
He sat down, smiling broadly. He looked distracted, like coming to see her was almost an afterthought. Not a great start.
“Hi Amy!” he said happily. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”
She twisted her mouth a bit. “Yeah. It’s um...neat.”
He sat down, putting the box on the table, looking expectantly at her, like he wanted her to ask about it. She refused to indulge him. His hands tapped on the box arhythmically.
“This is six months to the day since we first met. Did you know that?”
Oh, yikes. Who remembered stuff like that?
She shook her head.
“I hadn’t thought of that, nope. But it’s um...real swell that you remembered.”
“Yeah! I even got you a present. I just picked it up. ” He patted the box in front of him. “That’s what this is.”
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Duh, David.
“Why don’t you open it? I know you’re going to love it, Amy.”
His foot moved forward under the table. She could feel him slithering around under there, trying to find her leg.
Oh, gross.
Her feet shuffled into the corner as she leaned forward and opened up the box, sighing a little. No matter what it was, she had resolved to be rather unimpressed.
Inside was...rope?
“What’s this?”
“It’s my gift,” he said. “For you. It’s a good gift.” He got a faraway look in his eyes. “A good gift for a young woman who wants to experiment with her sexuality.”
“Uh,” said Amy, “what?”
Did David—nerd extraordinaire and big skinny loser—honestly give her fetish ropes as a gift for some weird made-up anniversary that only he knew about?
Oh god. She covered her mouth, trying to hide the overwhelming disgust and humor she found in the situation.
What a hopeless creep!
And experiment with her sexuality? What kind of slut did he think she was, anyway? Amy wasn’t a virgin, but she wasn’t exactly experienced enough to start experimenting. She got plenty of what she wanted without having much cock in her at all. Having an orgasm because of a cock inside of her would be an experiment.
“David...did you really think these were a good idea?”
She pointed down at the ropes, her fingertip touching them. A little bit of electricity ran through her body. Static shock, maybe.
“Well sure I did. I thought any guy would be giving you flowers or jewelry or whatever...I wanted to be more direct.”
“And you...directly want to tie me up, David?”
He put a hand around his neck, rubbing there. Some embarrassment finally seemed to find him.
“Come on! These ropes, they’re antique. I thought you would find it...you know. Cute. And sexy.”
“David...”
“What? It’s something fun. A good fit for a girlfriend’s gift.”
The words sounded repeated, orchestrated somehow. Like they were being channeled into his mind. It should have creeped her out a lot more than it did. In fact, this whole conversation should have been done already...but for some reason she stayed, her fingers stroking the violet ropes. They were...warm. It felt like stroking a nice day. No reason to stop now.
Still, though, she had to be firm with David.
“David, I am not your girlfriend. I don’t want to be your girlfriend. And I am not going to use these, or let someone use them on me.”
He looked lost.
“You...you kissed me, though!”
She sighed. She was afraid he was going to bring that up.
“Look, I was really drunk, okay? And it was barely on your lips. I was aiming for your cheek. You were nice to drive me home that night, but that’s all. I don’t want to be your...your ropeslut, or whatever.”
Ropeslut? How had that word entered her vocabulary all of a sudden?
It was a pretty cool word.
Maybe she didn’t want to be his ropeslut, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to be a ropeslut.
Ropeslut ropeslut ropeslut.
Yes...she liked that word a whole lot. It was exciting just imagining getting tied up and fucked really hard...
“Aw, babe. It’s not like that. I just thought this would be fun. Come on.”
Under the table, his feet found hers. Without thinking, she slid her leg across his. It was beyond a flirtatious gesture—it was openly sexual. Her whole body felt warm.
Fun, yeah. Ropes could be fun. Her whole hand was inside of the box now, the ropes tangling around her wrists and fingers.
“I just know you’d love it, Amy. We could make it really fun if you wanted.”
She wasn’t looking at him at all anymore, just the hot, perfect tangles of the rope wrapping around her skin.
“I would love it,” she said softly. “It’d be so fun if I wanted.”
She could hear David’s breathing increase. Her big, bright blue eyes turned up to look at him. She had no idea why she was so aroused, but she really, really liked it. Soft droplets slid through the folds of her pussy. Her leg slid up his a little bit more.
“That’s good,” he said. “Saying what I say is good. You can believe anything I say, Amy.”
She nodded, her mind adrift. The ropes felt so nice.
“Saying what you say is good. I can believe anything you say, David.”
His hand went around her foot, sliding it toward his crotch.
“Rub there a little,” he instructed.
Smiling, biting her lip a little, she obliged him. She could feel his bulge thickening beneath her platform heels. She had to do as he said. It was impossible not to.
“You like doing what I say, Amy.”
“I like doing what you say, David.”
An unexpected thrill ran through her body, wrapping around her pussy, moistening her cunt even more. It felt good to do as he said. She felt like she was made for that.
“Oh...” she said softly. “Okay. Yes. Tell me to do other things, please?”
He stood up then and took her hand. The ropes were still intertwined around her fingers, but she simply was not going to let them go back in that box. They felt too terrific for that.
“Come home with me.”
She nodded excitedly.
“Totally,” she breathed. “I’m totally going home with you.”
Very soon, they were walking down the street. He tugged her along with the ropes. Passers-by could see. She cared a little, and almost protested, but knew that it was either being led along by the ropes or having the ropes not touch her skin anymore. And she certainly could not have the latter.
In front of the door to his small building, he turned to her.
“Here we are,” he said. “Home sweet home.”
It was sort of a dump. The roofing looked caved in at certain places, and there were bars over all the windows.
“David...I...what if we went to my place?”
If they were there, surely she could figure out some way to extricate herself from him and keep the ropes, too. She liked doing what he said, but she thought what she really, really liked was the ropes.
“No. My place is better.”
She nodded sagely. “Yes. Your place is better, okay.”
It was a really great place. That roof caving was so modern art. Or art deco. Or something. It was neat, anybody could see that.
Erotic excitement flashed over David’s face. He reached over and grabbed her tit. Anyone could see.
She was going to protest, but then he said, “You like this.”
She did. She moaned, her pussy completely moist. His hands were so fucking good and right! Who knew that geeky David had such wonderful tit-grabbing hands?
“I like that,” she breathed.
Her eyes were so big, her mouth open just slightly. She was practically panting. Between his legs, she could see his bulge jumping forward.
Very quickly they were in his small studio apartment just down the street. It had one large living space where his bed and television were, a small kitchen area, and an even tinier bathroom.
He didn’t say anything for a long time, instead he just kept looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. The ropes had started to fall from her fingers a bit.
“Your place is sort of gross, huh?” she said.
Frowning, he took the ropes. She protested wordlessly, making sounds and walking after them. He grabbed one wrist, though, and then the other, binding her arms behind her back. Thoughts of protest, of squealing out, scattered from her mind. All she could think of was that more of the ropes were covering her body. That was so fucking good.
Soon, her wrists and hands were completely immobile, locked on top of her ass, covered in the soft, tensile rope. He made it tighter than before, much tighter than when she had just basically been holding them.
“That’s...so tight.”
“Do you like that?”
“I...I don’t know. It feels good, but...”
“Then you like it.”
Amy breathed hard. Her nipples were fully erect now.
“Say it, Amy. Say you like it.”
“I like it.”
He grabbed her at the waist, pushing her bound hands into his cock. Her fingers stroked along his thick bulge there playfully.
“You like being tied up.”
“I like being tied up.”
She really, really did. Why had she resisted so much? Sure, David wasn’t her boyfriend or anything, but he was really super cool to tie her up like this. After all, she really, really liked being tied up.
“You love this,” he said firmly. “You love it that I’m controlling you like this.”
“I love that,” she moaned. She really, really did. Having ropes around her body was her natural state of existence. She loved everything about being bound, being constrained and controlled. It was so very hot and nice.
“And you love it here, too. It’s really nice here. This is your real home. And you’ll make sure it always looks great.”
“It’s really nice here,” she said happily, each wrap of the rope around her wrist feeling like it was wrapping around her mind, binding her to his will. Brightly, she examined all the cool stains on the wall and the lovely mold crawling along the edge of the ceiling. “I love being here. It’s pretty much my real home, and so I’ll make sure it looks great.”
“Good girl,” he said, leaning forward and whispering in her ear. “You love it when I call you that. When I call you my good girl.”
“I love that.” Her voice was a soft little mew.
He leaned forward, grabbing her chin. “There’s no better compliment in the world. It makes your pussy squirm to be my good girl. Isn’t that right, good girl?”
Her pussy squirmed obediently. Hot juice started running down her lovely bare thighs.
“Yes Sir.”
She was completely wrapped. No matter which way she moved, her hands would stay behind her back. She could hear his breathing get harder and harder.
He walked in front of her. “Kneel.”
Obediently, she got down to her knees, looking up at him with big, expectant, obedient eyes. He dropped his pants. His cock sprang forth from his boxers immediately, and he dropped those two.
“David,” she said, a bit surprised. “That’s your cock!”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s huge. You love it.”
She was going to say that anyway, wasn’t she? She loved it. It was huge.
“It’s totally wonderful,” she said sexily, positioning her chest upward. Maybe he would fuck her with it if she was a really good girl?
His breathing got harder. “Good girl.”
She gasped, pleasure coursing through her body, emanating from her vibrating hot pussy.
“You want my cock.”
She nodded hopelessly. “I want your cock, David.”
“Maybe you
’ll get it,” he squeezed her cheeks roughly. “But first, we’re going to get some things straight.”
That was good. Straighten things out. Yes.
“You think I’m really cool,” he told her.
“I think you’re really cool.”
Of course she did. Why was he bringing that up?
“I’m the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, Amy.”
“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
Um, like, duh? Why else would she let him tie her up? It was so brilliantly awesome that she had convinced him to do this. He was the hottest guy she had ever seen. Everything about him was so incredibly jawdropping.
“You’re in total and absolute love with me, Amy.”
Yes. That was the word. Love. She loved him completely. He was her white knight. Her long lost dream hunk man, finally deciding she could spare his space.
She was so overwhelmed with her everlasting love that she barely heard what he was saying anymore, even though she knew it was shaking her to her core. Each new phrase that spilled out of her was completely true—she just barely had time to examine them before they popped out of her.
“I’m your slave.”
That only made sense.
“I obey only you.”
Well, that’s what slaves did, wasn’t it?
“I need only you.”
Who on earth else would she need?
“I want you to have lots of slaves.”
Of course she did. He deserved that. He was such a hot guy.
One command and repetition after another, David brainwashing her completely. He owned her body, he owned her soul, he owned her mind, and she wanted so fucking bad for him to own even more of her and even more sluts to serve him like he deserved. That was what kings like him deserved. He was her fucking Master. She adored him in every way. She would die for him, steal for him, kill for him. Anything he asked, she’d do it, and cum while she did, just from him giving her an order.
He stroked her face, and she stared at her Master with complete happiness and worship.
Bound Obedience (Dark Possessions Book 1) Page 2
