Bound and Bonded

by Kyoko Church

  I squeal as Madeleine sends a sudden final gush of oil between my buttocks. There is a touch of animosity about it. I shiver, suddenly feeling very exposed. I begin to regret shunning the blindfold. The darkness always made me more secure, it made everything surreal. I wonder if it is too late to opt for the safety of Madeleine after all, but she is going, without so much as a goodbye kiss, leaving me to him and his ways that I know nothing about. Show me your anus. He wouldn’t say anything so dirty to me, would he? He wouldn’t actually make me do it?

  Downstairs the door opens and closes to signal his arrival. I hear the two of them exchange quiet words, and then he is coming up the stairs to me. I am on my back on the bed, trussed like a turkey, awaiting his beautiful cock in the flesh. Then he is there, sneering at my bound body, a glint in his eye. He is in black as always, bigger and even more assured now than he was on this very day three years ago. I doubt he remembers that day, or that he left me there tied. He is still as mute and impersonal. He doesn’t look like he cares that it’s my birthday. I am to be his treat, not he mine. He opens his shirt fully and I see the hard muscles of his stomach, and the tattoo on his chest. Then his black jeans are coming undone and I can already see he is hard inside his Calvin Kleins.

  ‘You are going to suck my cock and balls, you dirty bitch,’ he declares.

  It is an abrupt start, but one that has my mouth watering. His pants are off and I watch his cock spring from its constriction and fill out until it is hard and bobbing. It is not huge, just sleek and lovely. I don’t care how many girls have been blessed with it over the years. Now it is for me alone. He climbs on the bed and straddles me. More than ever I feel my constriction. If he bent forward now and kissed me I would come. But there is to be no kissing. Instead he shuffles up the bed on his knees, clutching his lovely manhood, still straddling me. He moves right up until his thighs are at my ears, then he frees his heavy balls to land splat on my lips. I open up to take them. I have never sucked on balls before. The sack is shaved smooth. He feels warm and silky in my mouth.

  His prick is hard but he is leaning forward and holding it, wiping the tip across my forehead and eyes. I can feel the faint trail of pre-come left on my skin: Pierson’s pre-come from his glorious pole. He pulls his balls free and my saliva is smeared rudely all over my cheeks as he drags his sack across my face in wiping his prick all over me. He must know of my worship. Finger me now. Stick two or three of them up my raging cunt and feel my years of aching passion bathe you. He is still slapping my face with his erection so I picture his fingers inside me instead. Then I realise he couldn’t actually get them in me, because of the bands fastening me so tight.

  There is little time to dwell on this as he is placing pillows in the middle of the bed and hauling me sideways and over, so that I am on my front with my hips raised by the pillows. He has a particular way with girls. That’s what Madeleine had said, not half an hour ago. I feel nervy, perhaps because I have always been so safe before. He has me by the hair, pulling my head back and calling me a filthy bitch. Once he is inside me I will be fine. Give me your beautiful cock, I’m thinking, but I know I cannot part my legs to take him. His big hands are at my bottom, pinching and squeezing, pulling the cheeks apart.

  ‘You have a nice tight little shit-hole,’ he says.

  I can only gasp and whimper. Then he is smacking me, each undefended, totally bare cheek at a time. Madeleine never mentioned him doing this in her fantasy tales. He cares nothing for my dislike of pain. Luckily I am well upholstered enough there to absorb the smacks without it becoming agony. Madeleine has told me a million times that she was about to spank me but she never has. He has just gone and done it, and it hurts. He lets up just moments before I have to beg him to stop. He straddles me again, his hips outside of mine, his cock-head now slapping my sore bum cheeks. He wipes the tip of his prick across the expanse and I feel another wet trail laid down – proof of his continued desire.

  He is grasping his prick and rubbing it in the slipperiness of my bum crack. I remember the rude squirt of oil just before she left me. I can feel the head of his cock forcing its way in to run up and down my deep cleft. He prods and I feel it at my anus, which tightens against him. His face is at my ear, his fist still clutching my hair to hold my head back.

  ‘You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You want me to stick my big cock all the way up your tight arse.’

  ‘Yes,’ I breathe. I am shaking, but yes, I do want it.

  He presses forward and my bottom tries to hold out, but it can’t. His weight is too much and I begin to open up for him. I try to relax as best I can, pushing out against him, doing all the things Madeleine used to describe to me while she lay at my side and spoke of this very cock. I feel white pain, then a fizzle of joy. His glans is within me and I close up around it. Then he presses more and his shaft starts its remorseless slide into my rudest place. On it goes as he gasps and calls me a bitch and a filthy cunt. His dirty words keep me going. I wish I could grip the bed but I cannot. He fills me; searing pain with electric pleasure. I can feel him almost in my stomach. It is a unique sensation, so different to being done in the usual place.

  I want to ask him if he has indeed ever fucked me before as Madeleine claims, but what if he says no? It doesn’t matter; one way or another this beautiful cock has taken my virginity and I will treasure that fact always. He grips my shoulders and fucks me, pulling back to the tip then driving his sleek meat forward. I would explode if he pinched my clit as Madeleine likes to do. I would scream the house down. His weight is on my back. He is slapping hard against me and my bum cheeks are dancing. Now my passage is all relaxed and slippery, it is divine. There is no resistance, so he fucks me relentlessly for maybe ten hot, hard minutes, and then he spurts his seed deep into my behind.

  He draws out and I feel my bottom hole clench up, then relax again. I want to cover the dirty sight with my hand, but that is impossible. I stay face pressed to bed with my eyes closed, waiting for his next move. My orgasm would be instant, if he would only touch me. It isn’t going to happen, because I can hear his belt being done up. He leaves me without a word. My addled brain tries to sum it all up. It was an incredible fucking, but I’ve been left short. For all the beautiful contact, the fullness in my behind, the thrill of him, he couldn’t do what Madeleine can do with the slightest of kisses. It will surely be one of the most memorable times of my life, but think what it would have been with some patience and thought beforehand.

  Half an hour it must be that I remain here stranded, trying to work out whether I’m over him now or not. Finally Madeleine returns. She gently rolls me onto my back and begins to unbuckle the straps around my legs. She unleashes me up to my middle, keeping the straps at my waist and above so that I cannot yet free my hands. For half an hour I have been desperate to give myself what he did not. I’m still throbbing there. I think of telling her but she already knows. She gets close and blows gently upon me, and then, without warning, she puts her soft mouth around my hot clit and sucks as hard as she can. I scream.

  I’m so glad I didn’t drive her away. Sometimes the reality is not quite the same as the fantasy or anticipation. Sometimes sex is about the potential rather than what does happen. In my head I am the filthiest girl imaginable and I will always get off on you telling me that. The ruder you are, the longer you go on telling me, the better. In truth I am now just a little dirtier than I was before, which isn’t that much. One day I might give all this up, go for normal relationships with the kissing and the hand-holding, the embraces during love-making. But not quite yet, not while Madeleine can keep my hands off my pussy and make me scream with just her slightest touch.

  Taming Maria

  Kathleen Tudor

  As he read, Miles slowly became aware of Maria standing in front of him. He finished the page he was on, and then methodically placed the bookmark, closed the book and set it on his lap before he looked up to address her. Her eyes were properly lowered, focused on his hands, which he
’d folded over the cover. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Master, I’m ready to prepare supper.’

  ‘What do you need?’

  ‘The potatoes need to be diced and the asparagus cut,’ she said. As part of their master/slave relationship, he’d forbidden her to handle weapons, including the kitchen knives. The simple act of preparing a meal became an exercise in submission when she was forced to request his assistance any time she needed a sharp edge.

  He rose and set the book down on the coffee table. ‘Is everything laid out?’

  ‘Yes, Master.’ She preceded him to the kitchen, and he smiled as he admired the way her naked body moved. Her long legs were shapely and toned, and no less sexy for the lack of heels. She’d been wearing a cute little dress earlier in the day, but had taken it off, perhaps in the hope of catching his attention. He smiled at her cheekiness and leaned forward to swat her on the ass.

  In the kitchen, she gestured politely to the cutting board, where the washed vegetables were gleaming freshly, awaiting his attention. He pulled his favourite knife from the block and started in on the asparagus while Maria went to the spice rack and started mixing spices for the chicken.

  He’d made quick work of the asparagus and had begun to dice the potatoes when he felt a small finger dig into his lower ribs. He jerked the knife up from the board, clenching his elbows to his sides in automatic reaction, and slowly turned around. Maria was sprinkling her spices over the chicken. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Yes, Master?’

  He glared, but when she maintained the façade of wide-eyed innocence, he turned back to the potatoes, shaking his head. He’d cut two more of the small reds when her little fingers dug into his other side. He jerked again, resisting the un-domly urge to giggle, and spun. She was still attending to the chicken. ‘Are you all right, sir?’ she asked, still maintaining her innocence.

  He sighed and said, ‘Maria’ with a warning in his tone. She blinked over her shoulder at him, the picture of puzzlement, and he had to bite his cheek to keep from smiling. The brat. He pulled the Saran Wrap out of a nearby drawer and used it to cover the bowl where he’d placed the asparagus, then went back to dicing.

  He was nearly finished with his chopping, the third time he felt her tickling hands. This time he dropped the knife and snatched up the Saran Wrap. He spun as he pulled out the plastic film and wrapped it around her, spinning her as he went, so as to bind her arms firmly to her sides. Her eyes were wide with surprise rather than false innocence, now, and he smiled wickedly as he captured her.

  ‘Will you excuse me for a moment?’ He took her by the shoulders and moved her to one side, then wrapped the chicken and put it back in the fridge. Maria was starting to look worried. Good, she deserved to worry. Honestly – tickling!

  Her wrapping covered her from shoulder to waist, leaving her ass and legs free. He wrapped the plastic around her a couple more times for good measure, and then examined his handiwork. Maria remained obediently silent, waiting to see what he would do with her. He smiled, pleased to let her wonder. Satisfied that she wouldn’t escape her cocoon, he left the kitchen and gestured for her to follow. ‘Come, dear.’

  Her footsteps fell in obediently behind him. She was a very good slave, obedient and trusting, but not afraid to speak her own mind. And the little sparks of defiance and brattiness just made her submission all the sweeter. He wouldn’t punish her, but he did have to show her who was boss.

  He’d start with a taste of her own medicine. She followed him into their bedroom and squeaked when he grabbed her and pushed her hard towards the bed. She hit the edge and toppled onto it, her face ploughing into the mattress. He hefted her the rest of the way onto it, straddled her legs so that she couldn’t move them more than a few inches, and applied his fingertips and nails gently to the bottoms of her feet and that special spot on her calves.

  Maria screamed as his intentions became clear, and then giggled madly, thrashing as much as she was able within her limited range of motion. Miles was glad she couldn’t see his face, because his gleeful grin was anything but dignified. He felt a boyish pleasure in making her laugh until she was gasping for breath, and it was this pleasure that reminded him why she’d probably done the tickling herself. Well, pleasure wasn’t hers to take any more, particularly not from him.

  Her thrashing beneath him made his cock rise eagerly, and his tickling became faster and even less merciful until she was gasping and begging in between the uncontrollable laughter. When he finally moved off of her, tears streaked her face from laughing so hard, and his cock throbbed with pleasure as she struggled against the intensity.

  ‘If you would wait here, my darling, I’ll be right back,’ he said.

  She was still gathering her breath, so he didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he went straight to the kitchen and poured a large glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. Then he went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel and her robe. He returned to the bedroom and put everything down, unlocked the toy cabinet, pulled out a beautiful hand-carved wooden paddle and added it to the tools and toys. Then he went to their dresser, where he struck a match and lit a candle.

  ‘We’re going to play a game, my love,’ he said. She was watching him intently when he turned back towards the bed. He smiled at her, then moved to her side and picked up her sleeping mask from the bedside table. He showed it to her before he slipped it over her eyes. Then he picked up a silk scarf and tied it over the mask, making sure there was no way for it to slide up and offer her a small view of what was about to happen.

  ‘The game we’re going to play is called Hot or Cold. The rules are very simple.’ He moved the candle and the glass of water to within easy reach on the bedside table, and then picked up the paddle in his right hand. ‘I am going to drip something onto your back. All you have to do is tell me whether it is hot or cold.’

  He saw her sigh with relief and relax, and his grin reappeared. The human body is a funny thing. Cold can burn and burns can feel freezing – the feeling is more of an intensity level than a specific temperature gauge – and he’d learned through experience that hot wax and iced water feel almost exactly the same on the skin. Particularly if you’re blindfolded.

  The Saran Wrap was his favourite special touch in temperature play like this. It would transfer the sensations perfectly to her skin, while keeping her immobile and making it much simpler to clean everything up afterward.

  ‘What do I get if I win?’ she asked. Leave it to Maria to think of that.

  ‘Hmm …’ He went back to the toy cabinet and dug out a small vibrator. ‘How about pleasure? Every time you guess correctly, I’ll turn the vibrator on for five seconds. But wrong guesses must be punished. I have my paddle here.’ He swished it in the air over her ass so that she would hear the sound and feel the breeze. ‘Every wrong guess will earn you a swat. Are you ready?’

  She nodded eagerly, and he grinned and dipped his fingers silently into the cold water. He held them over her back and the water dripped onto her shoulder blade. She shuddered. ‘Hot.’

  Smack! She jumped and screamed as the paddle came down on her ass. Her mouth was open in a stunned expression, and he struggled not to laugh. She was realising …

  He would make the next one easy. He lifted the candle and allowed a single drop of wax to land on her other shoulder blade. She paused, considering what she knew of him, probably, and guessed ‘hot’.

  He purred approval and reached between her legs to activate the vibrator, making sure it was on her clit. He counted slowly to five, and shut it off again, and she whimpered. ‘Patience,’ he teased, and dripped the candle on her lower back. She jumped and shivered at the pinpoint of intensity, and guessed. ‘Cold?’ He smiled. She was probably guessing based on what she thought he would do, rather than trying to tell the difference in the sensations.

  Smack! This time he dipped his fingers into the water as quickly as possible and let the drops fall on her lower back. ‘Hot!’

  Smack! She cri
ed out, her ass already turning a lovely shade of cherry red, and he switched back to the candle. ‘Hot,’ she said, whimpering the word, her body already flinching for the next blow of the paddle. She screamed again when he activated the vibrator without a word, and then moaned and ground into it a second before it shut off.

  By now she would be overwhelmed by the sensory input, desperate to separate hot from cold and pleasure from pain, all of them mixing within her, indistinguishable. His own body was responding eagerly to her plight, and he paused to stroke the length of his cock before continuing the game. She moaned when he dripped the candle across her back again, this time pouring a little more wax than before. ‘Hot?’

  He activated the vibrator, and she ground into it immediately, her body churning with sensations. She’d always come easily, his little pet, and he’d trained her to come even more so. With the spankings and the teasing and especially with the vibrator straight against her clit, she would be very close already. He grinned and decided to do whatever he could to make things hard for her.

  She missed the next three guesses, and the paddle fell, smack! Smack! SMACK! She breathed heavily, writhing as if to escape, and thrashed hard when the next drops of water fell. ‘Hot! No, cold! Cold!’ He stopped the paddle in mid-swing and reached for the vibrator instead, and this time the pleasure was enough. She screamed and thrashed wildly in her bonds as she came, and Miles left it on long enough to draw her orgasm out, and then longer. His cock throbbed and he cupped his erection in his free hand, rubbing gently as Maria shook and cried, and then finally turned her head and screamed into the mattress as he forced a second orgasm out of her.