JUST DESSERTS

I walk into the restaurant, bold and confident, feeling on top of the world. The room is crowded, but I soon spot Jim, my date, sitting on his own in the corner. I walk over to him, aware of the number of eyes on me as I cross the restaurant - I'm not surprised, given what I'm wearing. I've spent the day being pampered in town - a manicure, a pedicure, a new hairstyle, a makeover. Absolute bliss. He sees me, and his jaw drops - I smile, coyly, and stand opposite him. He's too busy scanning my outfit to even think about being a gentleman, so I have to pull my own chair out from under the table and sit opposite him.

"Hi," he manages, eventually.

"Hi," I smile, sweetly, "what do you think of my new dress?"

He takes a moment to look me up and down again, examining my new little black dress, from the thin straps at the shoulders to the plunging neckline, from the low back to the obscene slit up the left side. He can't see all of the dress because I'm sitting down opposite him, but the way he stares at the table makes me wonder if he has x-ray vision.

"Nice," is all he can think of, before he takes another sip of water.

"Shall we order?" I ask, fingering the black choker around my neck, "I'm famished."

"Sure."

We read through our respective menus and make our choices. A cute waitress comes over to take our order, and I make sure I flash her a smile before she leaves.

"What was that smile for?" Jim asks.

"She's cute," I reply, "are you jealous?"

"Jealous isn't the right word," he answers, shifting his position uncomfortably.

I feel an evil grin spreading across my face, knowing what effect I'm having on him: "Are you thinking of me and the waitress, tied up and helpless, bound for your pleasure..?"

"Something like that," he says, shifting position again, looking around the restaurant nervously.

"Unable to move, so vulnerable and helpless, we can only touch each other, tease each other, with the tips of our fingers..."

"Shhhh!" he hisses, "Someone might hear!"

I raise an eyebrow, doing my best Vulcan impersonation, but relent. We sit in silence for a minute, while he desperately tries to calm down. But I'm not having any of it. I reach under the table and slip the black strappy stiletto heel off my left foot - I raise my fishnetted foot underneath the table, feeling my dress shifting to expose my leg from toe to hip, and gently stroke his ankle. I move my toe up his calf to his knee, then up his thigh to the bulge straining against in his pants.

"Errr... what's that?" he asks.

"Can't you guess?" I ask, feeling around gently with my toes.

"What's it doing there?"

"Can't you guess?"

It's at that point that the waitress returns with our food. Jim tries desperately to look calm and collected, but a few nudges with my big toe manage to illicit a moan from his lips, which has the waitress hurrying away before he can explain. I can't help but giggle, and he darts an evil look in my direction.

"When I get you home..." he threatens.

I look at him innocently. Good, I was hoping he would want to exact his revenge on me. I smile, as if butter wouldn't melt in my mouth, and tuck into my meal. I let my foot slide down his trouser leg, not wanting him to choke on his dinner, but keeping it in contact with him so he won't forget. We turn to small-talk, keeping it light, keeping it vanilla. I keep an eye on his plate, and as soon as he finishes I slowly move my toes back up to his groin...

"You little prick-tease," he says, under his breath.

"Doesn't feel little from here," I reply, "in fact, it seems to be getting bigger."

"When I get you home, you're going to regret this..."

"Oh, I hope so," I grin, undoing his zipper with my toes.

"Right, that's it, we're skipping dessert. We're going home right now."

"But I was looking forward to the chocolate gateau..." I pout.

"We'll have dessert at home."

"What're we having?"

"You."

He beckons the waitress over and pays the bill, remaining surprisingly calm and collected given what my toes are doing inside his boxer shorts... Once he has paid, he reaches under the table and grabs my foot - I try to pull away, but he is too quick. I feel his fingers softly tracing a line under my toes, moving down towards my heel. I barely suppress a giggle.

"Don't do that," I hiss, "you know how ticklish I am!"

He only grins evilly, keeping hold of my foot as he gently strokes the sole. I have my hands over my mouth now, trying to keep the giggles in, as I surreptitiously attempt to yank my fishnet-covered foot from his grasp under the table.

"Stop it!" I try, knowing I only have myself to blame.

"What's it worth?" he grins.

"Anything!" I reply, blushing furiously, my turn to be embarrassed.

"How about the clover clamps tonight?"

"Yes!" I hiss, and he immediately releases my foot - I return my foot to my shoe, glaring at him, already feeling sorry for my poor nipples...

We leave the restaurant together and climb into his sleek sportscar. I check my reflection in the passenger mirror whilst fastening my seatbelt, smiling softly to myself as I feel it clunk-click into place. He reaches into the glove compartment and a distinctive rattling sound grabs my attention - I turn to see him brandishing a pair of handcuffs.

"You've been a naughty girl," he grins.

"I hardly think..."

"And I don't want you distracting me from my driving. Now, are you going to put these on or am I going to have to put them on you?"

I nod, meekly, and take the handcuffs from him. I lean forward, against the pull of the seatbelt, and reach behind my back, fastening the cuffs around my wrists securely. I then lean back on my cuffed hands, wriggling to get comfortable. All he does is grin as he leans across and kisses me on the lips, his hand moving down to my warm thighs, parting them, feeling his way up my fishnet tights and smiling as he discovers my distinct lack of any other form of underwear... I groan, squirming in the car seat, as his fingers find and tease my clit... all I can do is sit there, helpless, kissing him passionately... and then he withdraws, sporting an evil grin, leaving me breathless with desire.

"Hey," I moan, pulling at my bonds.

He leans across one last time, to slide the thin straps of my dress down my shoulders, until my dress is so low the only thing keeping it from falling to my waist is my hard nipples.

"Don't move," he says, "since if you end up exposing yourself, it's your own fault."

"You bastard," I moan, not daring to move, wishing I'd worn a bra.

He just laughs and starts the engine, roaring out of the restaurant carpark and onto the main road - and all I can do is sit there, watching my dress, praying it won't decide to journey any further south. Every time a red light stops us, he reaches across and places his hand between my thighs, seemingly just to keep it warm. It certainly keeps me warm.

All too soon, we arrive at the house. He gets out of his side first, then walks around to my side and opens my door. He releases my seatbelt and helps me out of the car - somehow, my dress continues to cover me. Gripping my upper right arm, he leads me into the house while I struggle with the handcuffs - it's dark, so I hope our neighbours haven't noticed our little adventure.

"Right, slave," he says, closing the front door behind us and unlocking the handcuffs, "I want you up those stairs and naked on the bed, on the count of three. One."

Rubbing my wrists, I look at him and see that he's serious. Best not to question him. I obediently kick off my strappy heels and race up the stairs.

"Two."

My dress is a puddle on the floor behind me as I dash into the bedroom and leap onto the bed, ripping off my tights before I hit the duvet.

"Three," he says, following me into the bedroom, looking me up and down where I'm laying, curled up and naked on the bed, "I'm afraid that's not good enough."

"But I'm naked," I say, sitting up.

He crosses the distance between us and pulls the choker from my throat.

"Oh," I say - I'd forgotten about that.

He reaches under the bed and pulls out a ring-gag, from the box we keep our toys in. He passes it to me and I nod, placing the ring in my mouth and fastening the leather strap behind my head, once I've moved my hair to one side. Silent, he takes my wrist and fastens a handcuff around it, tight. He takes my wrist to the head of the bed, making me lay down on my back, and threads the chain and other cuff through one of the vertical iron bars - he takes my other wrist and fastens the other handcuff to it, leaving me helpless on my back with my arms secured to the head of the bed. All I can do is moan softly into the gag as he strips naked.

He reaches under the bed again and pulls out the clover clamps, with a flourish. My eyes widen when I see them, but I did agree to them earlier... there is no backing out now. My only option is to close my eyes, grip the ring-gag between my teeth and try to cope with the pain... my nipples are quite hard already, but he still plays with them a little first before attaching first one clamp and then the other. I shake my head, pulling at my bonds, groaning as they bite into my sensitive nipples, unable to do anything to relieve the pain.

Jim looks on, clearly aroused by my ordeal. He's not the only one - I can feel myself getting wetter and wetter as I struggle and squirm on the bed. He sits astride me, one hand on my waist, as he moves up my body... and then I feel his hard cock between my breasts. I look down, my mouth forced open wide by the gag, at his cock aimed right at my face. I groan as he takes the chain between my clamped nipples and pulls upwards enough to stretch my breasts. The clamps tighten their grip on my aching nipples as he pulls and twists the chain, making my breasts grip his cock. My groans of pain are accompanied by his moans of pleasure as he begins to thrust between my breasts, one hand on my waist, the other hand manipulating the chain, thrusting harder and faster... I look down, watching the head of his hard cock, huge at this angle, approaching and retreating between my stretched breasts... I gasp into the gag, the pain is unbearable, but there is nothing I can do... I struggle furiously, pulling hard at the handcuffs, wanting to cup my poor, aching breasts... and all he does is moan, continuing to thrust hard, faster and faster between my breasts, until... a long, low groan and a tightening of his grip on the chain precedes the hot, sticky cum which spurts over my chest, my neck, my face... into my open mouth...

I lick my gagged lips, moaning softly, tasting him as he releases his grip. Both he and I are covered in sweat, and he rolls to one side, panting. The moment passes for me, and I pull at my bonds again - I had briefly forgotten about the pain, but now it was back with a vengeance. I roll over onto my tummy, pressing my aching nipples into the bed, moaning as the pain subsides just a little, ignoring the amount of cum I'm now rubbing into the bedclothes. Copious amounts of drool transfer from my open mouth onto the pillow but I don't care. And then I feel Jim's hand on my rear, stroking my buttocks, before his fingers move down between my legs. His thick, rough thumb pushes into my moist pussy as he uses his leg to keep both of my legs together, so I can't help but grip his thumb inside me. He uses his thumb and fingers to rub, gently at first, then building up rhythm... I can't do anything to stop him but, then, I don't want to. My nipples still ache, but all I'm interested in now is the pleasure as he thrusts his thumb inside me and his fingers find my clit... I gasp into my gag as my whole body shakes with the orgasm that consumes me...

He removes his hand. Breathless, I roll over onto my back and scream into the gag when he removes the clover clamps from my nipples. He leans over and kisses me on my gagged lips, rubbing my aching breasts. I writhe underneath him in absolute pleasure as he pushes his tongue into my forced-open mouth, and his hand goes down between my legs again. He makes me feel so helpless, so vulnerable. This is so much better than chocolate gateau.