I moved to the second, nearly oblivious of anything but the photos. I heard Charles moving with me but even he seemed distant to me now. The middle photo was titled ‘Jane’. In this one the only thing visible was the woman’s face. Clearly in mid orgasm she was ugly and sensual and radiant all at once. From one angle she looked angelic, from another demonic. The distortion of her features was art in itself. Her hair was neither blonde nor overly dark. My guess was red hair. The only thing visible besides her and a swatch of nondescript bed linens was the edge of one wrist. It looked to be wrapped in fabric. Most likely a scarf. This time the sound that came out of me was not a sigh. It was more like a whisper.
As I moved on to the final frame, I noticed how damp I had grown and when Charles touched my bare wrist it was like having a match held to my skin. Every nerve was awake and alive and singing. I hissed.
‘Did I hurt you?’
I shook my head, didn’t look at him, and moved to stand directly in front of the final photo. ‘Anna’. She was my favourite. I might have said it out loud. I don’t know.
Anna had chin-length hair like me. Teacup sized breasts overrode the black lace half-cup bra she wore. Her nipples, so light in the shades of black, white, and grey, that they could only be petal pink in real life. Her hair fell around her face, hitting her jaw in a way that reminded me of a flapper. The majority of her face was swallowed by the blindfold she wore. The tip of her thin regal nose was tilted up, her lips parted in what wasn’t a smile but was well on its way. She looked serene and satisfied. Behind her hair was a white pillowcase. Nothing more. Her face. The mask. The nondescript white pillow. Anna.
Charles squeezed my shoulders in his big hands and the moisture between my legs gave way to a pulsing that demanded one thing. ‘I wonder what was happening to her when he took this,’ I said softly so only he could hear. ‘What he had done to her or was…’ I let my heart still a little before I finished, ‘about to do.’
‘You’ve never been into this sort of thing,’ he laughed softly in my ear. ‘I think you’ve even used the word ‘perverse’.’
‘That was before I realised it was beautiful,’ I said more to myself than my husband. ‘Look at them. It is beautiful.’ I stared at Anna again and went so far as to reach out and brush my fingers over the black frame. Could I touch what she was feeling if I touched the art? ‘I wonder what was happening?’ I said again and even I could hear the want in my voice.
‘What do you think?’ Charles asked and then his hands were around my waist. His fingers played low over my belly. A very appropriate and marital public display of affection for anyone paying attention. Only I could feel his hard cock pressed against the seam of my ass. Only I could tell that the very tips of his long fingers brushed the very top of my pubic hair, sending tingles and frissons of energy shooting from where his fingers touched me to the tips of my toes.
‘I have no idea,’ I said, my voice a little harsh from the sudden overwhelming urge to fuck that had been set off in me. I loved sex, don’t get me wrong, but what I was experiencing right then was the urge to rut like an animal. Irrational. Consuming. Insane. ‘I wish I knew.’
‘I think I know.’ Charles words sent a shiver through me. Not just up my spine but through my entire being.
‘Do you?’ I pressed back against him. I was subtle but I did it. The feel of his cock made me close my eyes for a moment, even if it meant losing sight of the photos for an instant.
‘I do. Let me take you home and I’ll show you what I think.’
I nodded because I thought if I opened my mouth I might start laughing. Joy and desire and peace. That was what I saw in these photos. I didn’t want to look away but I wanted to know what Anna was feeling. I knew Charles would do his best to take me there.
He broke our contact and walked away. I would simply look at them until he returned with our coats. I saw him talking to Hank. Hank pointed, chucked my husband on the shoulder and then turned to wave at me. I waved back. Then Charles was talking to another man. A younger man. Tall and thin with nearly black hair and nearly black eyes from what I could see. The man handed him a card as Charles pulled out his wallet. I saw a bill pass hands and then my husband was heading my way holding my coat and smiling.
‘Who was that?’ I asked as he helped me into my coat.
‘That was the artist. I gave him a hundred dollar bill and told him to hold the photos until tomorrow. I’ll go pick them up and pay him the balance.’
‘How much did you pay?’ I asked as he turned to me and kissed me quickly.
‘Not nearly enough, I suspect,’ he said and led me out.
The moment we arrived home, Charles put the blindfold on me. Technically, it was a sleep mask but it was black and it accomplished the same task. I was left on the bed, naked and in the dark. With each passing moment, my body tightened. Not with fear but with excitement and desire and the delicious feeling of being at someone’s mercy. Blind to the world, my other senses were heightened. I could hear Charles’s big feet padding across the hall carpet. I heard the distinctive creak of the closet in the guest room. I heard the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room. When the chimes announced ten o’clock, it was deafening in my personal darkness.
Charles entered the room but didn’t speak. That alone made my nipples rigid and the sudden harsh hardening spurred a shower of warmth through my body. I was having trouble breathing, the air seemed to have solidified. What would he do? What did he have? Would he fuck me? Eat me? Spank me? The more I thought of what he might do, the more my body responded. Becoming one hot liquid nerve.
He was at the side of the bed. Right there. I could feel him. The energy of him, and yet he didn’t speak. That alone was unusual for us. Our sex was full of words and laughter and noise. His silence broke me out in goose bumps. I swore I could feel his gaze on me. Feel it like the strong stroke of hand on flesh.
My husband touched my wrist and I sucked in a breath that left me heady. My arm was raised above my head and I heard the swish of fabric before I felt the cool silk touch my skin. My wrist was bound to the maple headboard tightly but not tight enough to hurt. So, that explained the creak of the guest room closet door where I stored my rarely worn clothes and shoes. His warm hand took my other wrist and this one was also bound. Not silk this time but suede. I heard a tiny clink when he secured it. My suede belt. Thin enough to tie but the buckle gave a merry tinkle when he pulled.
‘Charles.’
‘Shhhh.’ That was it. All he said. The muscles of my stomach tightened, fluttered, and sent a nice slow wave of warmth through my cunt. Charles never hushed me.
What had I been about to say, I wondered? Nothing. I had said his name and that was it. For reassurance? I had no idea.
His fingers started at my lips. Tracing them, pushing past gently, then forcing into my mouth and I responded. In my darkness, I responded without thinking. I took them into my mouth and sucked. I licked and nibbled and did all the things to his broad digits I might normally do to his stiff cock. He moved and when he did his erection brushed my thigh leaving a small trail of pre-come on my hot skin. The moment he moved again, I felt it start to dry.
His now wet fingers trailed down my throat. He explored the hollow of my collar bone and the sensation was overwhelming. Cut off from vision, each touch was distorted. His fingers dipped back in my mouth but only for a moment and then his wet fingertips pinched my nipples. Already erect, the sudden assault was enough to make me yelp and squirm but the dampness between my legs grew in proportion. My clitoris danced, my inner thighs grew slick.
I wanted to beg right then and there. I wanted to beg him to fuck me and fuck me hard. I knew he would. My husband would do anything and everything I asked. In my newfound darkness, Anna’s ecstatic visage flashed before me. I wanted that. To feel what she felt. To see what she saw in her darkness.
I did not beg.
Then he was pushing his big hard cock between my lips. I gulped at it. I chased it as i
t bobbed before me, unable to use my hands. My mouth never stopped. Lips, tongue, teeth. I felt like I was starving and he was the only sustenance in the world. I had never wanted to have my husband in my mouth as badly as I wanted it right then. I felt greedy and ravenous and I only stopped my wet work on his cock when he pulled himself from my mouth.
The sound I made was primal. I settled only when his own wet mouth found my clit, parted my vulva, suckled and nibbled until I yanked my wrists against the gentle bonds that held me.
This is what a caged animal in heat must feel like. The thought was like an echo deep in my head that flitted out of range when his rigid tongue shoved deep into my pussy, his hard white teeth grazing my engorged clit and I bellowed as the orgasm claimed me. Behind the blindfold a kaleidoscope of colours bloomed. I yanked against my binds without thinking and the thin flesh of my inner wrists screamed with agony.
I didn’t care.
And then he was in me. He had probably planned more torture but that sight, that sound. I knew my husband well enough to know that he had been pushed too far. Now he pushed into me, roughly. Stretching me, filling me and behind the mask he was all that existed. His body in my body. His cock in my cunt. His breath on my face. His hands clutching my hips and yanking me up even as he plunged into me.
I couldn’t hold him, couldn’t pull him closer or deeper. I was at his mercy for my pleasure and that thought started me off again. A building heat. A tightening deep inside that made me want to squirm and pant and yell. I didn’t, I received. I took each harsh thrust. I absorbed the feel of his eager fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips. Breathed and cooed and grunted as his hairy chest slammed against my breasts and tickled my over-sensitised nipples.
‘More beautiful,’ he grunted and I didn’t question him. My body was lighting up, flickering and moving around his. Each thrust drew me closer, each sound and grunt lifted me up and I felt it coming like a storm. I was going to come. Again. With him.
‘More beautiful than Anna,’ he almost yelled. His urgency was like the feel of the air after a lightning strike. So intense, so charged with energy I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise up. ‘You should see yourself like this,’ he growled and went rigid against me.
I came. Sobbing, babbling, pulling against my bonds to try to reach him. When he emptied into me, jittering against my body, he sounded like a stranger. Like a beast. Insane.
I shivered under him as he settled on me. Warming me.
Colours danced in my darkness. After kissing my face from forehead to chin, Charles took off the mask. I blinked feeling disoriented. He untied first the scarf and then the belt. I watched. Not speaking. Focusing on breathing.
When he turned back to me he looked worried. When I started to cry, he looked terrified.
‘Did I hurt you?’
I shook my head and wiped my eyes. I felt thoroughly used and exhausted and… sacred?
He wasn’t buying it and he gathered me into his arms. He smoothed and rubbed and shushed in my ear as I sniffled. ‘I must have hurt you. You’re crying.’
‘True, but not because you hurt me.’ I curled around him, feeling the pull of sleep.
‘Then why.’
‘It was beautiful. I can’t explain.’
I felt him exhale with relief. ‘It was. It really was. If you could have… you were…’
‘The pictures,’ I mumbled, already feeling myself drift off, ‘the black and whites.’
‘What about them, baby,’ he whispered.
‘I want to hang them in here.’ My eyelids descended.
‘Of course.’
‘And I want to…’
‘What?’
‘I want to try them all,’ I said, struggling.
‘OK.’
‘And then, I want to take our own,’ I yawned. I slept.
My First Time
by Eva Hore
‘Come on Doris, let’s just call in and see if he’s home. I’m dying for you to meet him,’ Rita, my girlfriend said.
‘OK. What’s so special about this one? Marcus isn’t it?’
‘Everything. Wait ’til I show you his playroom.’
‘His what?’
‘Never mind. Just come on, will you?’
She dragged me by the arm up the stairs of an old warehouse that had been converted into apartments. His was on the top floor and by the time we reached it I was out of breath. She rang the bell. No answer. Rang it again, and when it still wasn’t answered she took out a key.
‘Why didn’t you just use the key in the first place?’ I asked.
‘He doesn’t like me barging in whenever I feel like it. If I ring twice and there’s no answer, it’s OK to come in and wait.’
Strange rules I thought. Either your boyfriend wanted you there or he didn’t. What difference would it make if she just walked in and he was there, unless he had something to hide? Rita always met weird guys. They were like a magnet to her. This time though she said she was in love and he was very good to her.
‘What do you think?’ she asked, after showing me around.
‘Nice place. What’s behind that door?’ I asked.
She’d shown me through the whole apartment except for this one door, painted black with a padlock on it.
‘I’m not really supposed to go in there when he’s not home?’
‘Why, what’s in there?’ I said. I was intrigued now.
‘It’s the playroom.’
‘The what? Come on, you have to show me now.’
‘OK, but you have to promise never to let him know?’
‘God, the way you’re carrying on you’d think he had a dead body in there. Come on, show me,’ I said, as she retrieved a key and began to unlock it.
Well to say I was surprised was an understatement. This room was like a dungeon. Walled in by bricks, which were painted black, and the most grotesque equipment I’ve ever seen. There were racks hanging from the ceiling on what looked like blocks and tackles, you know those things mechanics use to pull out motors. Ropes from the racks were attached to the wall. There was also a cage hanging from the ceiling, an iron chair without a seat, a stainless steel table, whips of different textures, and stuff that I couldn’t even explain.
‘What is this place?’ I asked open-mouthed.
‘We call it the playroom. The things Marcus does to me are unbelievable. Every week he takes me out shopping and we buy something new. I’ve never been so happy.’
‘This is really some weird sort of shit he’s got here. What have you gotten yourself into?’
‘Nothing. It’s fantastic. Have you ever tried it Doris?’
‘No, and I don’t want to.’
‘How do you know if you haven’t tried?’ she asked.
She was rubbing herself against a wooden rack, fingering the wood lovingly. Her hand snaked around a rope, intertwining it between her fingers. Her eyes took on a glazed look as she waited for me to answer.
‘It’s just not my thing. I like to be in control at all times.’
‘That’s what I thought too, but once you’ve experienced this you’ll never want anything else.’
I looked at her suspiciously, wondering if she was on drugs or something. I must admit I always wondered what people got out of it, but to actually participate in it with your boyfriend, and to go shopping together to buy it, well, I…
‘Why don’t you try it, just for a minute?’ she asked.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ I said half-heartedly.
‘Let me just tie your hands together and hoist you up a little way?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You remember that time we bungee-jumped together? The rush you got when you were hanging upside down, knowing your fate was in someone else’s hands. It really got our adrenalin pumping. Remember? It was a real buzz. Come on. No one’s here to see. It’s just you and me and if you really don’t like it I’ll untie you.’
Her face lit up as she spoke. I’ve never seen her so
animated. She was coming closer to me with that rope still in her hands. Why not I thought. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.
‘OK, but don’t tell anyone, all right?’
She positioned me underneath one of the hoists. Raising my hands over my head, she took the end of the rope, wrapped it around both my wrists, tied some weird arse knot that I’ve never seen before, and then stood back grinning at me.
She unhooked the other end of the rope, which was tied up to a bracket on the wall, and slowly pulled me upwards. The muscles in my arms shrieked as she lifted me. I was standing on the tips of my toes. Then she retied it to the wall.
‘OK, is this it? Is this all you do? Hang from the ceiling?’ I asked, feeling slightly foolish.
‘Actually no. This is just the beginning. Imagine, your lover is standing in front of you. He can do whatever he wants with you and there is nothing you can do to stop him.’
‘I could fight him off with my legs,’ I said, feeling smug.
‘For how long? Your legs would tire before he did. Anyway he could tie your ankles to those ropes over there and pull your legs apart. Then you’d be at his mercy.’
I must admit the thought of it did get my pussy throbbing.
‘Do you want me to show you?’
‘Sure, why not, while I’m just hanging around,’ I joked.
Rita tied up each ankle and slowly stretched my legs apart. Wow, the inside of my thighs and the muscles in my arms screamed out as I lifted from the ground. Rita quickly placed a box under the insides of my feet to take some of the pressure off.
‘Now, how do you feel?’ she asked.
‘At your mercy. Yeah, I see what you mean. It is a turn on isn’t it?’
‘I knew you’d like it,’ she giggled.
‘What else do you guys do?’ I asked.
‘I’ve told you never to come in here when I’m not home,’ a voice boomed from the doorway.
‘I’m sorry sweetheart,’ Rita cooed, ‘I was just showing Doris how much fun we have together.’
‘Were you now. So this is Doris. Nice to meet you,’ he said, coming close to me. Coming very close. He was standing right in front of me. My pelvis was arched out towards him as though begging to be touched. I could feel myself blushing under his scrutiny.
Tie Me Up Page 4
