I wiped the sweat off my brow as I placed the last mat back in its designated spot, the studio gleaming from my meticulous cleaning. The classroom had emptied out, the last of the patrons leaving with tired waves goodbye. I could still hear the hum of treadmills and the clanging of weights out in the gym, but the yoga studio was now a sanctuary of calm. "Thank God it's over," I murmured to myself, a hint of satisfaction in my voice.
Grabbing my keys, I turned off the lights to the studio and locked the door with a firm click. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, the final note in the pattern of a long week. As I swiveled around, I smiled, spotting a few familiar faces. Three of my students--Jessica, Rachel, and Amanda--college aged girls, stood huddled together, their giggles floating through the air as they chatted amongst themselves. They looked up, their faces growing animated as they caught my gaze.
"Julie, wait up!" Jessica called out, her voice a little too eager for comfort. Rachel and Amanda exchanged glances, a silent message passing between them. I forced a smile, the kind I reserved for when a pose was particularly challenging and someone asked for an adjustment. As much as I enjoyed their company I was eager to get home.
"What's up, ladies?" I said cheerfully.
They approached, a trio of fit, young bodies dressed in their post-workout finery. "We were just talking about how we're all going out tonight," Rachel began, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "We thought you might want to join us, let loose a bit."
"Not tonight ladies." I said smiling, "I'm afraid I've already got plans."
"Oooh got a hot date?" Asked Amanda, her eyes widening with curiosity.
"Something like that," I said with a knowing smile, "But I'm telling you, no one from this small town." The words slipped out before I could stop them, hinting at the private rendezvous I had planned with myself. Their giggles grew louder, and I knew they were already imagining me with some mysterious man, sweating through a passionate evening.
"Aww come on Julie, the guys around here aren't that bad." Said Amanda grinning.
The truth was, despite what Amanda thought, there weren't any men in this small town worth dating or at least there weren't any I'd be interested in. After my divorce, I'd moved here for a change of pace, leaving behind the fast-paced, stifling environment of the city and my ex-husband's inability to fulfill my unique needs. I tried for years with him, but his vanilla tastes never quite matched my kinky appetite. The men here were nice enough, but they were like the gentle stretches at the start of a yoga class--pleasant, but far from the intense, bounding experiences I craved. So, my Friday nights had turned into a ritual of self-love, and I liked it that way.
I didn’t let my divorce or subsequent change in views on dating change me by any means. Even at 32 I still loved wearing my short skirts, crop tops, and outside of my yoga classes, you'd never catch me not in a pair of heels. It's just who I am. My ex used to say it was a cry for attention, and out here in this small town, there were plenty of women who would have agreed with him. But they didn't know me. They didn't know that my love for stilettos and tight clothing wasn't about them; it was about me. It was about the power I felt when I knew I could make a room go quiet just by clicking my way across the floor.
I wasn't here to steal anybody's man or flaunt myself in anyone's face. I just liked the way the fabric of a short skirt brushed against my skin, the way the crop tops showcased the abs I'd worked so hard for. And the high heels? Well we all have our own vices, and mine just so happened to come in the form of a decently spiked stiletto. It was a part of me, like the freckles scattered across my shoulders or the mischievous glint in my eyes and subsequent dirty thoughts whenever I spied a loose coil of rope.
“Hmm maybe, but like I said I've already got plans so I’ll take a raincheck on that drink, anyway you girls have fun.” I said giving the girls a wave as I went to change.
Heading into the locker room, I eagerly began to shed my workout gear and transform into my weekend persona. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and essential oils, a testament to the day's exertions. Kicking off my shoes I sat down on a bench and pulled my gym bag out of my personal locker. Peeling off my yoga pants, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation of my evening to come.
Next I slipped my sports bra off and untied my hair, letting it cascade down my back like a fiery waterfall. Unzipping my duffle bag, I reached in to pull out my normal attire. A pleated miniskirt, barely long enough to cover my ass, along with an off-the-shoulder t-shirt that was more about teasing than actual coverage. The fabric was a soft, velvety black that was going to feel like heaven against my sweaty skin. Normally I showered here before going home , but I planned to savor every aspect of tonight which meant languishing in my own personal shower when I got home.
Picking up my white sneakers up off the floor, I swapped them out for the 3-inch black strappy heels I'd brought along. They were a stark contrast to the comfortable, worn-in shoes, but oh, how they made me feel. The way they lengthened my legs, made me stand taller, the slight wobble as I found my balance--it was a thrill that never got old. I stood up and slid on the shirt first forgoing a bra, letting my breasts spill out slightly, the fabric clinging to my toned stomach. The skirt was next, and I had to admit, I enjoyed the way it barely grazed my thighs as I stepped into it, the anticipation of what was to come thick in the air. Finally I slid my feet into the heels, feeling the familiar pinch as they hugged my arches.
Grabbing my discarded work clothes I stuffed them into my bag with a bit more haste than necessary. Hoisting the bag over my shoulder I headed for the exit and stepped out of the locker room. The hallway was empty except for the muffled sound of music and distant chatter, the rest of the gym patrons oblivious to my transformation. Walking through the still busy gym I received a few hoots from the guys which made me smile wider. It was always the same group of guys, the same ones who took my class and pretended to struggle with the simplest of poses just to get a better look. While the attention was always flattering, I did my best to ignore it and concentrate on my goal because tonight was all about me. I strutted into the gym lobby, the clack of my heels a seductive rhythm on the tiles. The three girls from earlier were now chatting with a couple of the gym's personal trainers by the receptionist desk. Rachel, the wildest of the three, had the audacity to wolf-whistle. I turned, giving her a playful wink over my shoulder. She blushed a deeper shade of red, her friends squealing with laughter. Soon I was out the door and heading for my little hatchback.
The cool evening air kissed my bare skin as I click clacked across the pavement, the sound echoing in the quiet parking lot. The sensation of the soft leather pressed against my bare ass cheeks was a delicious tease as I slid into the driver's seat. Starting the engine, I felt the vibration resonate through me, setting my pulse racing. The leather seat was cool against my skin as I adjusted the mirror to check my makeup--smoky eyes and glossy red lips that screamed 'fuck me'. The drive home was a mix of anticipation and the occasional thrill as I shifted gears with a precision that was almost sexual. I was entirely too excited and had too calm myself as I drove down the quiet streets of my suburban neighborhood. The house I'd bought was modest but had enough space for my needs. It was my little slice of heaven, my personal oasis where I could indulge in my desires without judgment.
Pulling into my driveway, I quickly parked in front of my detached garage and turned off the engine. The silence washed over me like a cool breeze, the only sound being the distant chirping of crickets. The evening sunlight bathed my legs as I stepped out of my car and the anticipation grew with every step I took towards my house. The house was empty and quiet when I stepped inside, then again it always was. With no pets or roommates my house was always the perfect stage for my little performances. As soon as I was through the door I started to slip off my clothes as I walked upstairs, leaving a trail of discarded clothing in my wake. By the time I reached my bathroom I was wearing nothing save for my 3 inch heels. If it wasn't clear by now, I loved my high heels, not quite as much as the feel of rope wrapping around my body in a tight embrace, but there's just something erotic about walking around naked while wearing a pair. My collection is huge and I wear them almost all the time, even when I'm just lounging around the house.
I could already feel a warm buzz between my legs just from the sound of my heels echoing off the tile floor inside my bathroom. Sadly they're not shower friendly, a fact I learned the hard way a long time ago. So kicking them off I opened the stall door to my shower and turned on the water, once the shower had started to steam up I entered the spray and let the hot water cascade over my body, rinsing away the day's sweat and a whole lot a tension. I took my time, savoring the sensation of the water on my skin, the heat loosening my muscles as I stood there.
Grabbing my body wash, I let the sweet scent of jasmine fill the steamy room as I lathered up, my hands gliding over my toned curves. The warm water trickling down my body, traced a path over my full breasts and down to my already sensitive thighs. Next I grabbed my razor and set to work shaving, starting with long strokes up my legs to the meticulous and cautious actions around my nethers. Once I was done I slid my palms down the smooth contours and curves of my legs. I closed my eyes, picturing the tight coils of rope that awaited me, eager to caress my skin and hold me in their firm embrace. A shiver of excitement ran down my spine, making me arch my back and moan softly. Feeling impatient I had to stop myself from slipping my hand between my legs and instead grabbed my shampoo. I lathered up my long red hair, feeling the soap slide through the strands as I massaged my scalp. It's a small luxury in a week of strict routines and self-discipline.
Once I'd rinsed off I turned the water off and grabbed one of my large fluffy towels before drying myself off. Then I sat down in front of my large vanity which had a plethora of make up, lotions, and beauty products. Grabbing my hair brush and blow dryer I set myself to work, the extra attention I showed my hair always gave it a flirty bounce when I was finished. When my hair was dry and styled I turned my attention to my make up selection. The mirror reflected my playful smirk as I repeated the bold, smoky eye and glossy red lipstick that I favored to complement my fair complexion. I felt like a seductive sorceress staring at myself in the mirror, ready to cast a spell of pleasure on the empty air of my living room. I then padded my way to my bedroom to finish getting ready. The lingerie selection was a particularly fun ritual in itself when prepping for my play sessions. I was your typical woman when it came to clothes, I enjoyed mixing and matching outfits to create an air of mystique and seduction.
Digging through my drawers I sorted through my collection picking and tossing whatever tickled my fancy onto my bed. Naughty was definitely the way to go for my evening and my appetite was particularly ravenous tonight. I started by sliding my legs into a pair of black fishnet stockings. I loved the way the fabric hugged my legs, the sensation feeling like a lover's embrace. For my panties I decided on a little black G-string number that left little to the imagination, and the matching push-up bra was equally as revealing. Next came my garter belt, which I cinched tight to keep everything in place. Then I lifted up my beautiful leather collar from its place on the center of a pillow laying on top of my dresser.
The collar was made of a luxurious high quality leather, and with its large shiny chrome D-ring it was more exciting for me to wear than any of my heels or lingerie. Sliding the leather slowly around my neck, I tightened the collar until its hold was firm yet not uncomfortable before finally buckling it in place. It's a symbol of the power exchange that's about to take place, even if it's just with myself. Next was one of my favorite parts as I stepped into my closet where one of the walls was lined with shelf after shelf of pairs of high heels in every color and style imaginable.
I ran my fingers over the collection, each pair whispering sweet nothings of past conquests and kinky adventures. But tonight, I picked out a pair of five inch black patent leather peep toe stilettos with a slight platform sole. They were a perfect mix of sexy, classy and slutty that made me feel like a walking sex goddess. Placing the heels parallel on the floor I slid my stocking covered toes into each of the shoes. I wriggled my toes back and forth feeling the delicious leather until my toes poked out. Bending over at the waist I hooked a finger behind the elastic straps of my slingbacks making sure each heel fit comfortably.
Satisfied, I walked over and stood in front of my floor length mirror, after striking a few poses I thought to myself 'damn I look good'. Blowing a kiss to myself in the mirror I then made my way downstairs to the living room, more feelings buzzed inside me as my heels clicked against the hardwood floor, to me the sound was like a metronome of desire. The swish of my stockings as my legs touched as I walked elicited a feeling of sensuality and I couldn't help stopping and letting my fingers slide down over the netting. The feel of the netting sparking a ripple of goosebumps and I shivered in delight. Taking a deep breath I got my body under control and headed into my living room. Looking around I decided the mood wasn't quite right and I decided to light a fair number of candles around the room. There was still a fair amount of evening light sneaking in from the other rooms, but soon there would only be the flicker of candles casting shadows that would dance on the walls. The camera was already set up on a tripod. I had placed it there this morning, its lens gleamed like a hungry eye, eager to capture my night of self-indulgence.
My eyes drifted to my couch where a medium sized trunk containing all my naughty and kinkiest treasures sat next to it. I practically glided across the floor and smiling I bent down running my fingers over the shiny black lacquer and gold trimmed metal, before flicking the latch open. Opening the lid I felt my breath hitch as I gazed lovingly at all my wonderful toys. Reaching inside I grabbed what I would need for tonight's festivities which included five bundles of rope of various length, a zip tie, a ball-gag, a leather blindfold and a remote controlled vibrator. All of which I placed neatly on the floor in front of the camera. Taking a deep breath I stood up, flicked the camera on, hit record and a blinking red light pulsed. Walking in front of the camera I turned and gave the camera a seductive wink, before getting to the fun.
I started by sitting down and tying my ankles together. Looping the rope around my ankles, I felt the fibers biting into my flesh just enough to leave a delicious burn, then I cinched the knot tight with a satisfying tug that made me gasp. Part of tying my ankles together involved making sure the ropes also fed under the arches of my heels. It's a complex knot that I've learned through years of experience, ensuring that even my most vigorous struggles won't dislodge my precious footwear. The first tie finished, I sat back admiring my handiwork by twisting my ankles back and forth. The feel of the rope against my skin was both comforting and thrilling, a reminder of the vulnerable yet empowering journey I was about to embark on. Moving up my legs I next tied my knees together in a similar fashion.
The tension was delicious, forcing me to sit with my legs held tightly together, the effect making me tremble slightly at each twist of the rope feeling like a gentle caress, a silent promise of the restraint to come. I took my time, making sure each loop was tight and even, creating neat lines that accentuate the curves of my calves and thighs. With my legs tied nicely I shifted my legs back and forth in a teasing motion towards the camera. Now, with a devilish smile, I picked up the remote controlled vibrator. It's a powerful little device shaped like a dildo mounted to a curved little stand that holds the key to my evening's climaxes. Slipping it under the damp fabric of my panties I felt the coolness of the silicone against my already heated skin. With a flick of my thumb, I switched it on, the buzzing a low hum that filled the room.
The sensation was surprising, a sudden intrusion that made me gasp and I bit my lip, savoring the moment as I slid it inside my eager pussy. The tightness of the lingerie hugged the toy, keeping it in place as I pushed it deeper, the vibrations resonated through my body. The anticipation of being fully bound and at the mercy of the vibrator sent a fresh wave of excitement through me. Not wanting to spoil my fun I tapped the remote and turned it off, then I took a moment to cool down before continuing with my little adventure. With the vibrator in place, I picked up the next rope, a slightly thicker one that I've set aside for a specific purpose. I looped it around my waist, the fibers gliding over my garter belt, and drew it through my legs, creating a makeshift harness that framed my sex. This was my crotchrope, a beautiful and intricate web of rope that will tease and torment my most sensitive parts. I tied it off in a bow at the base of my spine, ensuring that every movement would cause it to rub against my pussy. The anticipation was exquisite and my breath hitched as I tightened the knot, feeling the fibers dig in just enough to be noticeable. The ball-gag was next, the thought made me salivate just picturing it stuffed inside my mouth.
Plucking it up off the floor I opened my mouth wide and worked the rubber ball in, tucking the 1 and 1/2 inch ball firmly behind my teeth. The ball tasted faintly of rubber and sweat from past sessions. The feeling of it filling my mouth was an odd thrill, a reminder that I was in control even as I was about to give it up. I fastened the strap behind my head, the tightness causing my cheeks to bulge slightly around the gag. I let out a muffled moan, the sound echoing in my ears as I felt the gag pinning down my tongue. The urge to struggle was already building, but I forced myself to be still, to savor the moment before the real show began. Now for the blindfold, picking it up I slid the leather down over the top of my head and positioned it just above my eyes, the soft leather felt cool against my skin. It was a thrilling game of peekaboo with myself, the world outside my vision but within my grasp if I really needed it.
But tonight, I didn't need sight, I needed to feel, to experience the world through the lens of sensation and so I tightened the strap ensuring that when it fell in place that it wouldn't be easily dislodged. With the blindfold in place, I took a deep breath, the room could now become a canvas of darkness and shadow when I was ready. The most challenging part was next: my elbows. I've learned through a lot of trial and error that this wasn't a simple task. It required precision and a bit of a contortionist's touch. It basically involved pre-tying and working the ropes up my arms. So taking the next bundle of rope, I fashioned the rope into six lines, making sure the loops would be just the right size before cinching the middle tightly. Then getting on my knees I placed my wrists through the loops and alternated wiggling the ropes up my arms. Soon the loops of rope were slowly working their way up my arms until finally they refused to go up any further.
Thankfully I got the loop radius perfect this time and wouldn't have to start over. If the loops were too tight they'd cut off circulation and if they were too loose the ropes would just start slipping back down my arms as soon as I started to struggle. When my evening of fun was over, I'd use a little stand with a small saw I'd fabricated myself to saw through the ropes once I'd freed myself from the rest of my bindings. Breathing heavily, I took a moment to rest, the tension in the room was palpable. The scent of jasmine from my shower mingled with the faint smell of leather and candle wax. It was a heady mix that sent my pulse racing. The vibrator was still lodged inside me, a silent sentinel of pleasure waiting for its next command. The crotchrope was doing its job, each breath causing it to shift slightly, sending delicious waves of pressure against my clit. I could feel my pussy clench around the toy, begging for more, but I'm not ready to give in just yet.
So shifting my body, I grabbed the last rope which would go around my wrists. This was the part where I really needed to concentrate. Looping it around my wrists, I made sure that the knot would hold, but like the rest of my bonds not tightly enough to cut off my circulation. It's a delicate balance, one that I've practiced over and over again. I pulled the rope taut, feeling the fibers biting into my skin as I worked the knot. Each twist and tug sent a jolt of excitement through me, my breath hitched in anticipation. The rope slithered around my wrists like a serpent, creating a beautiful pattern that will keep me bound and helpless. Finally, I reached for the zip tie, it's the finishing touch, the one that will ensure my hands are securely fastened to my ankles. I took a deep breath, feeling the cool plastic between my fingers. It was a simple, yet effective tool, one that I've used countless times in my sessions.
Gripping the zip tie in my hands, I layed down on my stomach, then I bent my legs at the knee until I could touch my ankles with my hands. Zip tie in hand I looped it around the ropes binding my wrists and ankles. It took a moment, but eventually I managed to link the plastic tie together and pulled it tight, causing the plastic to bite into the ropes. The sound of the teeth locking into place was like a gunshot in the quiet room, final and irrevocable. I was now hogtied, my body arched in a delicate bow, my ass in the air. Lowering my head, I nudge the blindfold into place. The world went dark, and I was left with only the sound of my own breathing and the thumping of my heart. The sudden loss of sight sent a rush of adrenaline through me, heightening every other sensation. The smell of the candles was stronger, the feel of the ropes more intense. I'm acutely aware of the vibrator nestled inside me, the crotchrope pressing against my clit and the way my breasts hang heavily from my chest begging for attention.
Rolling onto my side, I stretched out my bound arms, feeling the ropes dig into my skin as I searched for the remote. It was a dance of shadows and whispers, my fingertips brushing against the cool floor, the occasional clink of my metal collar against the hardwood a reminder of my current state. Finally, I felt the smooth plastic under my hand, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the heat of my skin. Gripping it tightly I rolled back onto my stomach, I could feel heat pooling in my belly as my fingers glided over the buttons, taking a deep breath I pressed the largest one… shuffle mode. The vibrator came to life, the buzzing started low and steady, growing stronger with each pulse. It was a gentle wake-up call to my body, a reminder of the thrilling evening ahead. I gasped as the vibrations hit my clit, the crotchrope acting like a conductor, channeling the pleasure through my entire being. My hips bucked involuntarily, the ropes biting into my skin as I tried to escape the delicious torment. The struggle was part of the art, the dance of submission and desire that fueled my soul, but before I got too ensconced in my own little world I executed the final part of my plan. With a flick of my wrist I sent the remote sailing to parts unknown.
Now truly at the mercy of my own handiwork, I began to writhe and twist against the ropes. They held firm, their embrace tight and unyielding. The sound of my own breathing filled my ears, punctuated by my muffled moans that echoed around the room. The vibrator's rhythm was relentless, the sensations building until I was on the edge of a climax. The struggle was real, my muscles straining against the bonds that held me in place. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through me, the ropes digging in deeper, leaving their mark on my skin. The intensity was greater than normal, I could only assume it was due to the fact I'd made this session way more hard-core than ever before. In past sessions I've kept the remote and safety scissors close by for when I was ready to be finished. Tonight not only had I blindfolded myself and tossed the remote away, but my safety scissors are all the way in the kitchen. This way even if I wanted to be done I'd have to wait until the vibrator's two hour battery drained before I could even attempt to worm my way to freedom. Believe me when I say as long as my little friend was buzzing away my sense of direction was beyond horrible and my coordination was that of a drunken octopus.
As I arched my back, my breasts strained against the lacy cups of my bra, the ropes around my waist pulling taut. The sensation sent bolts of pleasure down my spine, making me moan louder into the gag. My thoughts start to drift, the darkness behind the blindfold a canvas for my wildest fantasies. In my mind's eye, I'm not alone in this quiet suburban home. Instead, I'm in a dungeon, surrounded by the whispers of leather and chains, the faint scent of sex in the air. A mysterious figure looms over me, their eyes glinting with a mix of desire and domination. They whispered dirty words into my ear, their voice a dominant growl that sent shivers down my spine.
As the vibrations picked up in speed I started rolling my hips in rhythm with it, the crotchrope digging into my pussy with each thrust. The pressure builds and my muscles tightened around the invading object, my body begging for release. The ropes cut into my skin, leaving red marks that will be a delicious reminder of this night for days to come. Each moan was a symphony of pleasure and pain, echoing off the walls of my home. Lost in the sensation, my mind drifted to a place where I'm not just a yoga instructor, but a bound goddess, my will bent to the whims of an invisible force. My mind then drifted into another fantasy, one in which the quiet sanctity of my home was shattered by the sudden crack of a window, followed by a shuffling of feet as someone entered my home. In this scenario, a burglar has stumbled upon my little show, his eyes widening in shock and arousal as he took in my bound form. I imagine his rough hands, his greedy gaze as he takes in the sight of me, helpless and exposed. The thrill of danger sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, making me squirm even more against the ropes.
Now I really bucked and wiggled, my body straining against the bonds that hold me in place. The vibrator inside me felt like a living creature, a greedy beast that fed on my pleasure and demanded more. The crotchrope was a constant torment, each movement sending jolts of sensation through my clit. The sound of my heels clacking against each other was like a metronome, setting the pace for my desperate moans. The struggle was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, each tug of the rope sending a thrill through my body. The vibrator suddenly changes gears, the buzzing growing more intense, the pulses coming faster and harder. It's like a switch has been flipped, and my body responds instantly. The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, crashing over me without warning. My back arches, my bound legs kick out, and a muffled scream was all I could manage around the gag.
The ropes bit into my skin as I convulsed, the pain only adding to the crescendo of pleasure. It's a beautiful agony, my muscles spasming as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through me. The crotchrope dug in deep, each twitch of my pussy sending a fresh jolt of pleasure through my body. As the climax subsided, the vibrator shifted back to a low, steady hum, giving me a moment to catch my breath. The sudden reprieve from the intense sensations was almost as sweet as the release itself. I layed there panting and sweating, my body a tapestry of ropes and desire. The throb between my legs was insistent, demanding more. But for now, I was content to bask in the afterglow, my heart pounding in my chest. The world outside my little bubble of darkness seemed so far away, so irrelevant and I smiled around my ball gag, feeling utterly alive. My first thought after my climax was 'I can't wait to see the video when this is over’.
I’ve often thought about starting my own website, uploading videos of myself and charging a fee for people to watch. The thought of men and women watching me while they pleasured themselves made me horny as hell, but I've never had the guts to do it. The idea that someone I know might recognize me made me nervous and in this smallish town it wouldn't take long for rumors and judgment to fly. Then again the idea of finding someone with the same kinks was invigorating so who knows, maybe tonight's performance will be the first one I share with the world. The thought sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at my own audacity. The thought also sparked another wave of arousal, and I realize that the vibrator had shifted to a medium, insistent hum. It's as if it knows of my dirty thoughts and is eager to push me further. Suddenly, the vibrator went into overdrive, sending rapid, powerful spikes of vibrations through my pussy. My hips jumped in response and the force of the impact made me squeal into the gag with each landing. It's as if my body had become a marionette, dancing to the tune of pure pleasure. The crotchrope tightens with each spasm, the silicone of the vibrator pressing against my swollen clit, adding a dull sting to the symphony of sensations.
As the rhythm became more intense, my mind conjured up another scene of captivity. I was no longer in my living room but bent over a cold, steel table in some unknown location, the smell of fear and lust hanging heavy in the air. A shadowy figure looms over me, their hands rough and unyielding as they hold me in place. I could feel the head of a cock nudging against my wet entrance, the anticipation driving me wild. With a wicked chuckle, they thrusted into me, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. Each powerful stroke sent shockwaves through my body, and I realized that the vibrator's new pattern mimics the brutal rhythm of my imaginary captor. The ropes around my wrists and ankles bite into my skin, the burn was delicious, the pain exquisite, a perfect counterpoint to the pleasure that builds with every movement.
Swimming inside my imaginary world I smiled as I felt one of my favorite things about my new vibrator begin to kick in. The bulbous tip of the vibrator extended upwards, reaching for the sky like a tiny rocket ready to launch. It's a feature that I've saved for tonight, something that adds a new dimension to my solo play, and the anticipation has been killing me all week. The extension filled me completely, the added pressure pushed against my g-spot with a force that steals my breath away. My body responds immediately, my hips grinded against the floor, the coldness of the hardwood a stark contrast to the heat emanating from my core. I wiggled and bucked, my breasts smushing into the floor as I tried to escape the delicious torment of the device's relentless rhythm. The room was filled with more sounds of my moaning, muffled yet powerful, reverberating through the emptiness like a siren's call.
The minutes stretched on, a timeless eternity of splendid sensation. The extension inside me reaching new depths with each thrust, the intensity of the vibrations turning my cries into a symphony of passion. The camera captures it all, a silent witness to my private dance of desire. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles straining against the ropes that held me in place. It's a battle of wills, my body screaming for release while my mind holds firm, relishing the sweet agony of being so close yet so far. The crescendo builds, my moans growing louder, more desperate. The vibrator's rhythm was like a maestro's baton, guiding me closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. And then, with a final, powerful thrust, I'm there. My body arches off the floor, my back bowed like a drawn bow, the ropes digging deep as I let out a wail that's part pleasure, part pain. It's a sound that fills the room, echoing off the walls, a primal scream of ecstasy that seems to shake the very foundation of the house.
Just as I reached the peak, the music stops, the vibrator cut off and the device went to sleep while I collapsed back down, my body twitching on the floor. The sudden silence was deafening, my cries of passion now a fading echo in the emptiness.
For a moment, I layed there, panting, the ropes cutting into my skin, the weight of my own body pressing down on the gag. The sudden absence of sensation was like a slap in the face, a cold wake-up call that pulled me out of my fantasy. Then my blood froze as I heard my front door knob jiggle and the door open. Oh my god! I'd been so lost in my own world that I'd forgotten to lock the door! My heart thundered in my chest, the beat matching the rhythm of fear that started to pulse through me. As the door opened a male voice echoed off my walls.
“Hello! Miss… Jameson.. I don't mean to intrude, but I was delivering a package and I heard a scream like someone was in.. dis…tress…" At the sound of a man's voice my heart skips a beat, the words cutting through the silence like a knife.
The footsteps grew closer, the soles of the shoes tapping against the wooden floorboards. For a few moments, there was no sound except for the hammering of my heart and the muffled breaths I took through my nose. The world around me was eerily silent, as if it had frozen in time. I layed there, bound and vulnerable, my eyes wide with shock and fear behind the blindfold. I could practically feel the deliveryman's eyes devouring the sight of me, the intricate ropework, the lingerie and high heels that made my body look like a work of art. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the symphony of sounds that had filled the room just moments before.
”I uh… wow…" The deliveryman's voice trailed off, I still didn't budge hoping he would simply back away and leave. "Gotta say when I heard that scream… this was the last thing I expected to find…hmmm.”
There was a sense of apprehension in his tone, with a hint of curiosity tinged with giddiness… I could feel him moving closer, his presence a living, breathing thing in the room with me. The scent of his cologne washed over me, mingling with the scents of jasmine and candle wax. His footsteps were slow and deliberate, each one echoing as he slowly circled the room. I just held my breath, waiting for the moment when I'd feel hands press against me… but then the footsteps moved away heading towards my kitchen. I let out a breath of relief, my heart beating in my chest like a weed whacker. Then I shifted my head to the side when I heard what I thought sounded like the scraping of metal against tile, followed by the jingling of keys. I tried to picture in my mind what was going on, maybe the man was taking advantage of my situation and was robbing me or worse… but then I heard the man's footsteps pass back through the living room, then they stopped at my door. With a sigh of relief I heard the lock of my door engage and then the footsteps headed out with the sound of the door closing behind him.
Dizzy from the fear that had washed over me, I slumped my forehead against the cool hardwood of my floor. My heart was racing so fast it felt like it might just burst out of my chest. But as the minutes ticked by and the silence grew heavier, I realized something. The man, the deliveryman, hadn't taken the bait. He hadn't tried to touch me or even untie me. He had just… left. I let out another shaky sigh of relief, the tension in my body slowly starting to melt away. I also felt slightly disappointed in a weird way, tied, gagged and blindfolded I would have had no way of identifying the man. Yet he hadn't even so much as copped a feel…'must be gay' I thought to myself.
I had no sooner finished my thought when the buzzing started again, the vibrator back from its nap and ready to play. The suddenness of it scared me so much I'm pretty sure my soul left my body for a brief second. I had to bite down hard on the gag to keep from screaming. With renewed vigor, the vibrator went back to work, the extension now a familiar invader in my depths. The fear had heightened my arousal, and now I was more desperate for release than ever. As to which form of release I craved more, the physical or the mental, I couldn't tell. But my body didn't seem to care, it just responded to the call of pleasure with a primal need that washed over me like a wave.
Just as I was getting back into the groove I felt the buzz growing weaker, the pulses slowing, until it was nothing but a faint murmur against my swollen flesh. Panic began to set in as I realized the batteries were dying. The anticipation had been so intense, the buildup so exquisite, and now it was all slipping away. My hips continued to move, trying to coax the vibrator back to life, but it was no use. It had gone quiet, the silent protest of a toy that had been pushed to its limits. I lay there, bound and frustrated, my body on the precipice of climax but denied the final push. The ropes felt tighter, the gag more suffocating, and the blindfold suddenly a prison rather than a gateway to fantasy. The house, once a playground of shadows and whispers, was now a tomb of disappointment. I could feel the anger rising in me, a fiery beast that demanded satisfaction.
"Fuuuuh!" I moaned in frustration as I was unable to reach the summit of the mountain I'd been climbing.
After a few minutes of grumbling, I gave up on the dead vibrator and started to wriggle my way across the floor. The ropes bit into my skin, the pressure from the crotchrope and the ball gag making it difficult to move without causing myself pain. Each inch felt like a mile, my body protesting against the unyielding bonds, but I was a woman on a mission, and that mission was sweet, sweet release. The journey was slow, every inch a battle against the unyielding ropes. The coarse fibers rubbed against my sensitive clit, sending small jolts of pleasure with every movement. The ball gag in my mouth made it difficult to keep my breathing steady, and the lace around my breasts tightened with every twitch of my nipples against the floor. It was a delicious torment, a dance of agony and ecstasy that had me moaning and groaning in frustration.
Time passed slowly as I inched my way closer to the kitchen, my mind racing with thoughts of the safety scissors. My body was a canvas of sensation, the ropes leaving a trail of red marks across my skin that burned with each twitch and spasm. The vibrator inside me was a sadistic tease, its silence a mockery of the power it had wielded just moments ago. The crotchrope felt like a living thing, tightening and releasing in time with my racing heartbeat. As I approached the threshold between the living room and the hallway, the floor changed from cool hardwood to soft carpet. The raised bump between the rooms was like a miniature mountain to navigate in my bound state. I paused, gathering my strength for the next phase of my escape. The thought of the deliveryman's untouched package in the kitchen was a tantalizing carrot dangling in front of me, a symbol of my freedom from this self-imposed bondage. In that moment I couldn't even remember what I'd ordered, I was just grateful to not be receiving a package of a different variety.
Summoning my will, I began to slither over the bump, the ropes biting into my skin as I stretched and contorted my body. The crotchrope was particularly merciless, each movement sending jolts of pain and pleasure through my already-sensitive pussy. The ball-gag made it difficult to breathe, but I managed to hoist myself over the edge, the sound of my body slapping against the floor became muffled by the fabric of the floor on the other side of the small barrier. I could feel the carpet fibers sticking to my sweat-slicked skin as I shuffled along my path, the change in texture a small mercy amidst the chaos of sensations. My elbows and knees ached from the effort, and I'm certain the rope marks would begin to chafe soon leaving more than a reminder if I didn't get free soon. Once again I could feel the change below me as carpet gave way to the tile floor of my kitchen.
The kitchen was a beacon of hope and a symbol of the end to this ordeal. I knew the scissors were laying under the nearest stool sitting alongside the kitchen island on the opposite side of the room, now I just had to get there. Since my breathing was heavy and ragged I took a few moments to rest, the effort of moving across the floor in this bound state was taking its toll on my body. A few minutes passed by and I was ready to keep going. As I slithered across the cold tiles, I felt shivers run down my spine from the coolness of the tile below me. I was sorely tempted to try rolling to the otherside of the room, but the prospect of the spikes of my heels stabbing me in the back as I rolled, dissuaded me from attempting said shortcut. It must have been close to fifty minutes between the moment my vibrator died and the time I finally reached the stool. Each minute had felt like an eternity, but I'd done it and now I just needed to free myself.
With a deep breath I rolled onto my side, the coldness of the kitchen tiles was now seeping into me so much I could feel my nipples hardening to the point they had begun to sting. The warmth of the living room was a distant memory as the reality of my predicament set in. My bound hands fumbled under the stool, feeling for the cold metal of the safety scissors, my heart racing in anticipation of the sweet release they would bring. But as my fingers reached out, the only thing they encountered was the emptiness of the floor. Panic gripped me as I realized they were gone, but I knew I had placed them right… the deliveryman! He must have seen them and taken them, not understanding their importance to my escape or…maybe he had, maybe he had seen the camera and realized what I was doing. The thought sent a fresh wave of fear crashing through me. I started to hyperventilate, the gag in my mouth making it difficult to breathe.
My chest heaved as I desperately searched for a way out of this mess. I started rubbing my head against the floor in an effort to dislodge my blindfold, but it was snug and the smoothness of the tile floor didn't have the same level of friction the hardwood of the living room did. My mind raced with scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if the deliveryman had seen the scissors and took them as a souvenir? What if he had seen the camera and had decided to come back later… no I had definitely heard him lock the door, but then why take the scissors? The thought of being the butt of someone's sick joke had me squirming with a mix of anger and humiliation. I had to get out of these ropes, now! …but it was impossible without the scissors. I tried to calm myself, focusing on my breathing, slowing it down to a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my racing heart. I had to think, to find a way out of this without causing myself further injury. The ropes were tight, but not unbearable. I knew I could hold out for a little longer. I took stock of my surroundings, trying to think if there was anything I could use to dislodge my blindfold.
As my panic began to subside, I heard the faint sound of my phone ringing from the bedroom. It was a distant melody, and with my bedroom upstairs far out of my reach. When the ringing stopped I tried once again to focus on finding something, anything to use to pull my blindfold free, because once I could see again I was confident I'd be able to figure out a solution and free myself. I felt around the kitchen floor with my bound hands, my fingertips searching for any tool, any sharp object that could aid in my escape, but then I remembered I had thoroughly cleaned my floors since I knew I'd be crawling around on them tonight. The room was as bare as my hope was starting to feel, but wait, maybe I could hook the strap of my blindfold on the handle of a drawer… no, hogtied as I was I'd be more likely to smash my head against something while just attempting to reach one. ‘Shit!’ The word echoed in my head, a silent mantra of frustration as I writhed on the cold kitchen floor and had a little temper tantrum.
The situation was dire, my body still buzzing with need and the ropes cutting into my skin with a sharp sting that served as a constant reminder of my folly. I groaned, the sound a mix of anger and despair, the gag in my mouth muffling the sound to a whine that was almost pitiful. The sound that abruptly ended my little tirade was the jingling of keys in my front door's lock. My heart skipped a beat, the fear rushing back in like a tidal wave, the deliveryman had returned! My mind raced, trying to figure out what to do, but my body remained still, frozen in place like a deer in headlights. I heard the door open, then close and the lock was turned again, the finality of the sound echoing throughout my house sent a shiver down my spine. Now on high alert I tilted my head to the side and strained to listen for any sound out of the ordinary. A few seconds of silence went by then I heard it, footsteps were quietly and deliberately making their way down the hallway approaching the kitchen. I held my breath, willing him not to look down, not to see me there, a bound, blindfolded mess on the floor.
"Ah, there you are," came the man's voice, sounding much more pleased than before.
I gulped hard, my body stiffening as I felt his presence close in on me. The scent of his cologne grew stronger, and I could feel his eyes on me, taking in the sight of my bound and helpless form. His tone was casual, almost friendly, but there was something else lurking beneath the surface, a darker note that sent a shiver down my spine.
"Sorry I had to leave but, heh, I needed to end my shift, can't attend to a damsel in distress while on the clock you know." The voice said, as what I could only assume to be my keys jingled as they were placed somewhere.
The deliveryman was closer now, his footsteps echoing in the kitchen as he approached me.
"While I was gone I gave it a lot of thought and decided, I just can't leave a damsel so in distress she needs to resort to such measures alone. No, any woman who would go to such extremes needs… help." As the word help left his mouth I felt a hand rest on my hip, his touch was gentle yet firm, the warmth of his palm a stark contrast to the cold kitchen tiles beneath me.
Regardless, the touch on my bare skin made me jump and I shook my head vigorously. The hand didn't move, instead it began to trace along my side, moving along the fishnets of my thighs to the ropes that bound my ankles. I squirmed, trying to pull away but his grip was firm, his fingers tracing the ropes that dug into my skin.
"Don't worry I'm gonna take good care of you." Just then I felt the plastic zip tie connecting my wrists to my ankles snap, causing my bound legs to flop down onto the floor with a thud.
I moaned with relief as the tension in my shoulders and back was released, the sudden ability to move my legs sending a rush of blood down to my feet that had gone numb. The deliveryman didn't say a word as he rolled me onto my back and I felt his hands begin to slowly roam over me, tracing the curves of my body. As the pins and needles sensations faded away I became more acutely aware of his roaming hands.
"Mmmph!" I protested around the gag, trying to squirm away from his touch, but the ropes had me immobilized, my body a canvas for his exploration.
His touch grew bolder, his hands cupping my breasts and squeezing, his thumbs tracing my hardened nipples through the lace of my lingerie. I could feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of my bra. His touch grew more insistent, his hands moving from my breasts to my hips, then down to the ropes that held my legs together. I felt the ropes loosen slightly and the thought that he was going to untie me filled me with hope. Then…then I felt the ropes encircling my ankles and heels tighten, I mean really tighten and I mewled. I then felt him do the same to the ropes around my knees, wrists and elbows. Then the man's footsteps headed towards my living room and before I could even roll over they returned. I listened then as the man dragged a stool over and I shrieked as two arms slipped underneath me, lifting me up onto my feet. I wobbled momentarily before I was guided onto one of my stools.
"You like being tied up, so I'm going to help you take this to the next level," the deliveryman whispered into my ear, his breath hot and heavy. My heart raced as I felt his hands on my shoulders, guiding me to remain in place. I felt him lean into my back and wrap a double corded loop over my chest until the ropes sat just under my breasts. I felt him draw the ropes tight like a lasso in the middle of my back and I winced as he pulled the ropes tight, causing the ropes to bite into my arms and the underside of my breasts. When the ratcheting finally stopped, my arms were tightly pinned into my sides and lower back. He wasn't even close to being done though, as he reversed the direction of the ropes winding the cords around the upper portion of my arms and my chest then back through the knot. Yet again I winced as the deliveryman ratcheted the ropes through the knot, the ropes biting deep into my upper arms as well as the swell of my breasts.
Not finished, the man ran more rope under the two loops between my arms and my abdomen. Next, he pulled the cords up over the ropes over my shoulder, behind my neck, then repeated the pattern before leading the rope through a loop at the knot behind my back. For the final time, he ratcheted the ropes tightly through the nexus between my shoulder blades. This caused all the ropes to mold unforgivably tight into my body, my breaths coming out in shallow gasps around the gag. The pressure was intense, the ropes cutting into my flesh, but the pain was a strange kind of comfort in the chaos of my fear. Despite the terror of my situation I couldn't help feeling thrilled as well, during all my self bondage sessions I'd never been able to manage thoroughly tying myself up with both an elbow tie and a chest tie.
So now the thrill of not only having both ties, but them both be super tight was causing my blood to boil from the arousal that was taking over me. In a way I was glad my vibrator was out of juice because I was about to cum without it and I didn't want this man to think that his 'help' was needed in that department. I felt his hands trace down my body, the ropes had left deep impressions and he followed the grooves with his fingertips, sending more sparks through my body. A squeeze here, a pinch there, each touch sending a jolt of sensation straight to my core. He was playing with me, enjoying the power he had over my bound form. The fear was still there, but it was now a cocktail mixed with excitement, a thrill that had me panting and squirming in my seat.
Then his hands were gripping me by my hips and lifting me up onto my heels. As I stood there waiting I had little doubt that the seat of my stool was slick from the juices that the excitement of being tied in a way I'd been craving to be tied for forever had produced. I didn't want this man to think, much less know that the way the ropes now held me was something I'd been wanting for a long, long time. I'd spent more than a few years before and after my marriage looking for a man who would not only romance me, but give me what I needed and I do mean needed, because vanilla sex was so boring that it didn't matter what a man looked like, how much money he made, or even how big his cock was and whether he knew how to use it. I… needed… kink! If I wasn't being forced to wear something slutty, if I wasn't being spanked, if I wasn't tied and gagged I wasn't Cumming.
The irony that this is what led to me landing in my current situation wasn't lost on me either. He stepped around the stool, my heart racing with anticipation. The man's hand slid down the side of my cheek, his thumb brushing against the wetness that had formed around my mouth from drooling. He chuckled softly, a sound that was both terrifying and arousing in equal measures.
“Now, let's see if you can still hop around like that," he said, his voice thick with amusement.
"Whaa?" I mumbled around my gag as his hand guided me forward.
My legs wobbled as I was forced to balance on the precarious height of my heels, the ropes around my ankles and knees making it nearly impossible to do so. The man chuckled at my discomfort, his hand a firm presence on my shoulder as he directed me forward. My heart hammered in my chest as I bent my knees slightly and pushing off with my toes, I attempted to hop forward. The ropes dug into my flesh with each bounce, the pain exquisite and humiliating. The sound of my heels landing on the kitchen tiles echoed through the room, a rhythmic beat of my forced obedience. The deliveryman's hand was like a vice on my shoulder, guiding me through the kitchen. Each hop brought a fresh wave of pain and pleasure, my body betraying me with every movement.
Soon I could feel carpet underneath my heels as we made our way back towards the living room. The cushion was a welcome relief, but the ropes around my ankles continued to make it difficult to maintain balance. I stumbled a few times, the deliveryman's laughter following each misstep. The hallway felt eerily quiet, the only sounds my muffled grunts and the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath me. I nearly fell when I landed on the raised wood between the hallway and the living room, my legs shaking with the effort of staying upright. I started to tumble forward, but the deliveryman's grip on my shoulder tightened, keeping me upright. The suddenness of his strength sent a shiver through me, a mix of fear and something else, something darker that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
He steered me to the center of the living room, where my self-bondage session had originally started. He guided me to spin around a few times, the ropes biting into my skin as I twirled, creating a dizzying maelstrom of sensations. I could still hear my camera running and I knew that every moment of this was being recorded, a thought that sent a thrill through me despite the horror of my situation. I felt his hands leave my body and soon the sound of my coffee table being dragged across the floor met my ears. He positioned it behind me, his hands then guided me down onto it, the feeling of the cool glass under my ass sent a shiver through me, the stark difference from the warmth of my body making me feel even more exposed and vulnerable. He stepped away, and the silence was deafening, my bound body laid out like an offering.
The next thing I knew his hands were gripping my ankles, his strength surprising me as he lifted them into the air, the ropes biting into my skin as gravity took over. The sudden change in position had me gasping around the gag, my legs now hoisted high and my feet pointing towards the ceiling. The angle was indeed one that the camera would enjoy, it was a view that would leave nothing to the imagination. I could feel the coolness of the air against my exposed crotch and the wetness that was now smeared along my inner thighs. With a sadistic chuckle, the deliveryman stepped back and took in the sight of my bound and helpless form. I sensed the man was taking in the view and I knew he must have appreciated it when he stepped close with his hand running over the uncovered parts of my ass.
He must not have liked my silence, as his hand left my ass before coming back down hard on my upturned bottom, the smack echoing through the room. The pain was sudden and intense, the shock of it making me yelp into the gag. I felt the heat bloom across my skin, the impact sending a jolt of sensation through my body that was as unexpected as it was exhilarating.
"Mmmph!" I shouted as another round of spanks rained down on my exposed ass.
The deliveryman had found a rhythm, his hand coming down with a steady thwack, the sound echoing through the room with every impact. The pain was a fiery brand, but it only served to fuel the burning desire that had been smoldering within me since I'd first felt the ropes' embrace. My cheeks were on fire, the sting with each spank only adding to the thrill of my predicament. When the spanks stopped I felt his hand return, slowly caressing my warm cheeks before dipping into the valley between my thighs and stopping abruptly when he reached the hilt of the vibrator still lodged deep inside me.
"Well, well, well," the deliveryman mused, his grip on my ankles unyielding as he held me in this humiliatingly exposed position. "Looks like someone has a friend in need of a break. But don't worry, I'm more than happy to take over the reins." With that, his free hand began to undo the knot of my crotchrope.
The sudden relief was overwhelming, and I moaned into the gag as the rope slithered away from my sensitive skin. As the crotchrope fell to the floor, the deliveryman's hand deftly slid my soaking wet panties to the side, exposing my most intimate parts to the cool air of the room. I could feel his gaze on me, the anticipation in his touch as he gripped the base of the vibrator. I whimpered around the gag, the sudden absence of the toy's pressure leaving me feeling empty and needy as it was slowly pulled from its home. The sensation was strange, a mix of relief and loss that had me trembling with desire. With the vibrator removed, the man took a moment to appreciate the sight of my exposed pussy, glistening with arousal.
His grip on my ankles tightened, and with surprising gentleness, he lowered my legs back down to the floor, allowing me to sit back on the edge of the coffee table. The world spun around me, my vision swimming as the blood rushed to my head.
I felt him lean in, his breath hot against my ear making me shiver as he whispered, "Now, let's see how much you really crave this."
The sound of his rummaging through my toy box was like a symphony of anticipation. The jingle of metal and the rustle of fabric filled the room, a stark contrast to the silence that had previously dominated my evening. I could feel his gaze on me, watching my reaction as he sifted through my collection of kinks and fetishes. The sound of fingers grazing over the silk and leather reaching my ears, next came the jingling finally of something cold and metallic. Then my breath hitched as I felt him peel back the cups of my bra, exposing my sensitive nipples to the cool air. The pinch was sudden, a sharp sensation that sent a bolt of electricity straight to my core. He had found a set of nipple clamps, and without a moment's hesitation, he attached one to my right nipple. The cold metal bit into my flesh, sending a wave of pain that mingled with the pleasure already coursing through my veins. I gasped, my body arching reflexively, the ropes creaking with the sudden movement. The deliveryman chuckled, his voice a dark caress in the otherwise silent room.
The sensation grew as he adjusted the clamp, tightening it just enough to make me whimper. He didn't rush, savoring the moment as much as I was dreading it. I could feel the blood rushing to the surface of my skin, my nipple swelling within the cruel embrace of the metal. Then I bit down on the gag, my eyes squeezed shut, as he leaned in to repeat the process on my left nipple. The second clamp was even tighter, the pain a stark reminder of my vulnerability. Footsteps shuffled in front of me before the sounds moved to my left as he circled the coffee table and I swear I could feel his gaze, his eyes never leaving my bound form the entire time. Each step was measured, deliberate, a near silent taunt that sent my heart racing. He was enjoying this, savoring every moment of my torment, and I couldn't help but feel a dark thrill at his attention.
As he moved behind me, the deliveryman stopped and I felt the heat of his body, so close yet so far. His hands reached up and unbuckled the strap holding the ball gag in place. A sense of relief washed over me, knowing the pressure on my jaw was about to ease. But before I could even attempt to speak, he tightened the strap again, pulling it back into place with a sadistic smile that I could feel against my cheek. The buckle was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of his fingers, and the gag was now cinched so tightly that my cheeks bulged around it. The leather bit into my skin, the discomfort serving only to fuel my arousal. I whined and moaned, the sound muffled by the thick rubber filling my mouth. He chuckled at my plight, his hands moving away from my face only to land on my shoulders, his fingertips tracing the contours of my neck and the ropes that held me in place. The pressure was unyielding, a constant reminder that I was at his mercy.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered, "Clearly your gag was too loose, aren't you glad I tightened it for you?"
I whimpered again, the sound muffled by the thick rubber in my mouth, my eyes watering from the pain of the tightened gag. The deliveryman chuckled darkly, his grip on my shoulders growing stronger as he leaned in, his mouth close to my ear.
"Now, let's see what else I can do to entertain us both… as well as whoever gets to watch this recording, " he murmured, his voice a seductive promise of more torment to come.
The reminder of the camera lens's unblinking gaze sent a fresh wave of adrenaline through my body. My heart hammered in my chest as I imagined the video being played back, my desperate struggles and whimpers captured for some unknown audience. The idea was terrifying, but it also added a thrilling layer of exhibitionism to my already intense experience.
The deliveryman stepped closer, his warm breath tickling my ear as he spoke in a low, gruff voice. "You're going to thank me for this, darling. And after you've had your fun, I'll expect some compensation for my… services."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, the implication clear. He was going to use me for his own pleasure, and I had no way to refuse. His hand left my neck, I heard his footsteps moving around the coffee table until they again stopped in front of me. Then the familiar feel of his hand on my ankles, a precursor as my legs were once again hoisted into the air. My vision flashed as my G-string was shifted to the side and one of my now buzzing dildos plunged into me. When the coolness of the metal met the heat of my core the sensation was overwhelming. I tried to gasp, but the gag only allowed a muffled groan to escape. The deliveryman seemed to take his time, savoring the moment as he watched the toy vanish into my body.
He'd found my favorite toy, a sleek metal dildo with a curved tip that hits my G-spot every time. The buzzing begins, starting slow and gentle before building to a crescendo. The sound filled the room, mingling with my muffled moans and the rustle of the ropes as my body moved with the rhythm of the vibrations. I visualized a twisted smile on his face as his hand guided the dildo, his eyes never leaving the spot where it disappeared into my body. Each thrust was precise and deliberate, pushing the boundaries of what I thought I could handle. The metal was cold against my heated flesh, a stark contrast to the warmth of the ropes that hold me captive. As the buzzing continued, the built-in heating of my favorite metallic friend kicked in and the warmth quickly spread through my core, adding to the intensity of the sensations. He took his time, watching the way my body responded to the intrusion, my hips bucking and writhing in an attempt to escape or perhaps to encourage him to go even deeper.
My mind was a whirlwind of sensation, the pain from the ropes, the pressure from the gag, the relentless teasing of the dildo, the pinching of the nipple clamps as I writhed, all combining into a maelstrom of pleasure and pain that I couldn't escape from. My eyes rolled back into my head, the only sounds coming from me were muffled groans and gasps leaking out from around my gag. The sensation of being used so thoroughly, so completely, was something that I've never experienced before and it was driving me wild. I felt the deliveryman's hand move from the base of the dildo to my clit, his thumb flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation was exquisite and my body arched upwards as much as the ropes would allow. I could feel an orgasm building, a tight coil in my stomach that was threatening to snap at any moment.
This fresh wave started a chain reaction, causing my muscles to tighten around the dildo as my pending orgasm built. Each twist and turn of his thumb was like a master key turning in a lock, unlocking wave after wave of pleasure that crashed over me. The buzzing became a symphony in my ears, my body's movements grew more frantic with every passing second. The thought of cumming not just in front of this stranger, but also knowing that the camera had a perfect view of every bit of my humiliation and pleasure was an aphrodisiac that I never knew I needed.
Then it hit me, the orgasm was like a tidal wave, my body convulsing as I came harder than I ever have in my life. The ropes bit into my skin as I arched my back, my heels thrashing in the air so rapidly they squeaked loudly from the friction as they rubbed against each other. The dildo inside me felt like it was on fire, the heat and vibrations mixing with the contractions of my pussy created a sensation that was almost too much to handle. My eyes squeezed shut, and I screamed into the gag, the muffled sounds of my pleasure echoing in my ears. It's a sound that I never knew could come from my own throat, a wild, animalistic cry that's part pain and part ecstasy. The deliveryman's grip on my ankles tightened, his own breathing heavy with the effort of holding me still as I bucked and writhed under the onslaught of pleasure. My head spun as the man slowly lowered my legs to the floor, the warmth of the metal dildo still embedded inside me. I was so lost in the aftermath of my orgasm that the sound of the camera clicking off and the fabric of my blindfold being pulled away barely registered. My eyes blink open, adjusting to the sudden flood of light as the darkness of my self-imposed prison dissipates.
The room spun around me, a dizzying array of colors and shapes that slowly coalesced into the familiar contours of my living room. As my vision cleared, I got my first look at the deliveryman standing before me, his features were obscured by a black leather mask that hid his eyes and nose, leaving only his gleaming white teeth as he smiled wickedly down at me. He had peeled off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest that glistened with sweat. The sight of him, this stranger in my home, stripping before me, sent a new thrill through my bound body. His hands moved to the buckle of his pants, the sudden realization of what was about to happen sent a shockwave of fear throughout my body. Panic set in as the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm tied, gagged, wearing the most provocative lingerie I own and helpless in my own living room with a man I don't know who is about to take me in the most intimate way possible. Up until now everything had seemed like a dream, but now that I could see again reality came crashing down around me.
My heart raced as I tried to wiggle out of the ropes, my body trembling with a rush of adrenaline and fear. He seemed to enjoy my squirming, his eyes gleamed with excitement in the candlelight as he slowly undid his pants. The sound of his zipper echoed through the room, a chilling preamble of what was to come. I tried to fight the rising panic, telling myself that this is what I signed up for, that this was a fantasy I'd wanted fulfilled, but the rationalizations felt hollow in the face of reality.
With his clothes removed, I just stared at his size as he neared me, he must have been between 6 and 7 inches in length and his girth was a decent size, I was sure I'd have no trouble feeling every inch of him filling me up. As he approached, my body tensed, a mix of anxiety and anticipation coursing through me. My mind screams for release from the ropes, but my body seems to have a mind of its own, my pussy was already leaking onto the glass of the coffee table beneath me. I shook my head no as he stood directly in front of me gripping himself and slowly stroking his length. The sight of him was both terrifying and exhilarating, a monster and a god all in one. When he saw me shaking my head he stopped, looking almost perplexed, and then what looked like realization hit his eyes.
"Oh, I get it, you're upset I turned off your camera," the deliveryman murmured, his smile never leaving his face as he took in my frantic movements. "I’d rather you not have a recording of what happens next, but I do understand that it's obviously one of your kinks so let's make a deal."
He stepped back and pulled out his own phone from his pants on the floor, a sleek black device that looked both expensive and intimidating in his hands. "I'll record it on mine, but we'll keep it at this angle," he said, pointing the phone at the spot where the original camera had been.
With surprising grace, he bent down and snatched up the roll of zip ties that had been inside my trunk. He pulled out two and deftly bound them around his phone and the tripod, securing it in place with a snap that made me flinch. Then he stepped back, his eyes never leaving mine as he hit record and began to stroke himself. His hand moved up and down his cock, a silent command for me to watch as he took control of the situation. The reality of his words hit me like a sledgehammer, he was going to film us, to have a permanent record of my humiliation and degradation. A cold knot of fear twisted in my stomach, but there was something else there too, something darker, more primal. The idea of being used and recorded, of having no control over who saw me in this state of vulnerability, was terrifying… and intoxicating. I stared at him, my eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire, my breaths were coming in shallow pants around the gag. He saw the war playing out on my face, the internal struggle between fight and flight, and his smile grew wider.
"Don't worry, darling," he purred, his voice a seductive caress that sent shivers down my spine. "I'll make sure you look beautiful for the camera."
With surprising strength, the deliveryman reached down and gripped the coffee table, his biceps flexing as he turned it to face the opposite wall. The sudden movement had me sliding on the slick glass surface, my bound body jolting and jostling with the shift in angle. This gave his camera a side profile view of my exposed body, my legs hanging off the side. He then proceeded to walk in front of me, his erection bobbing with every step, the head of his cock glistening with pre-cum. My eyes were glued to it, my body instinctively aware of what was about to happen. Without a word, he knelt down, his muscular thighs pressing into the side of the table as he lifted both of my bound legs with his hands and resting my ankles over one of his broad shoulders. The shift in position had me teetering on the edge of the coffee table, my breaths heaving as I struggled to keep my balance.
With a smirk, he reached down and pulled out my dildo, the warmth of it leaving my body with a slight pop, echoed through the room. I felt a moment of loss, the emptiness in my pussy almost a relief after the intense pleasure it had brought me. But that relief was short-lived as he positioned himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudging against my slick folds. The realization that he wasn't wearing a condom hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was on birth control, but the thought of his bare skin against mine, the risk of his seed filling me up, was both chilling and exhilarating. A part of me wanted to scream out for him to stop, to protect myself from the unknown, but the louder part was begging for him to take me, to claim me in the most primal way possible. The deliveryman must have sensed my panic, his smile growing wider as he took in my wide-eyed expression.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my cheek as he whispered, "You're mine now." His voice was a dark promise, a declaration of ownership that had me squirming in the ropes.
He didn't ask for consent, he didn't need to, I was his plaything, and the fear of the unknown was just another thrill in this twisted game. I had practically put myself on a silver platter and delivered it to him with a bow, and now he was going to feast. The moment he pushed inside me, it was as if a switch had been flipped. All thoughts of fear and doubt were replaced with a white-hot need that burned through me like wildfire. He was so much bigger than the dildo, filling me completely, stretching me in ways I never knew were possible. I gasped around the gag, my eyes squeezed shut as I tried to process the sensation. The pain of the biting ropes was intense, but it was mingled with a pleasure so profound that I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
As he pulled my body flush against his, I could feel my cheeks leave the glass as he pushed into me, my arms and wrists felt a small breeze as my lower back was raised from the coldness of the coffee table. His cock was thick and veiny, a stark contrast to the smoothness of the metal toy that was just inside me. As he started pumping away I realized he was lifting me onto him so that he wasn’t putting his full weight down onto the glass coffee table, which would've surely broken it. He was so deep inside me that I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against the opening of my cervix with every thrust. His cock was a living, breathing thing, stretching and filling me with a fiery heat that had me seeing stars. I felt as if I was going to combust from the inside out, the friction of his skin against mine setting every nerve ending alight.
The deliveryman's strokes grew stronger, more demanding, his grip on my legs unyielding as he claimed my body for his own. My bound wrists strained against the ropes, my fingers curling into tight fists as I desperately sought purchase on the slippery glass beneath me. The only thing I could think in that moment was that my body was no longer my own, it was a vessel for his twisted desires and my own depraved needs. It was with that thought that my next orgasm hit me like a train, my back arched, my legs squeezed tight as my ankles rested against his shoulders as he fucked me with a fervor that bordered on madness. The deliveryman's grunts grew louder, his words turning to dirty whispers that painted a vivid picture of what he wanted to do to me.
"You like that, don't you, slut?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "You like being used like this, like a fuck toy for me to enjoy."
And, despite the fear and the pain, I couldn't deny it. I did like it, no I loved it. I loved the way he talked to me, the way he treated me like I was nothing more than a means to an end, a receptacle for his pleasure. It was a heady feeling, to be so utterly consumed by another person's desires. I nodded as best as I could, the gag in my mouth making it difficult to speak. My eyes never left his, a silent plea for more. My orgasm must have had an effect on his position, because the next thing I knew, I felt my legs drop down to the floor as he rolled me onto my stomach on to the table, his weight pressing me into the glass as he repositioned himself. The coldness of the floor sent a shock through my body, the sudden change in temperature only serving to heighten the sensations. My knees had barely hit the floor before he was back at it, his hips pumping into me with a newfound urgency. The stickiness of my skin caused my breasts to stick to the glass, plumping against it with each of his thrusts. There was little doubt that the nipple clamps were going to leave multiple scratches on the glass.
The feeling was strange, almost painful, but it only added to the symphony of sensations overwhelming my body. The coldness of the glass contrasted sharply with the heat of his body, the friction of his skin against mine creating a delicious burn that had me panting and whimpering into the gag. The deliveryman's hands roamed my body, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulled me back onto him. His strokes grew longer, harder, pushing into me at a new angle that had me seeing stars. The tip of his cock was now brushing against my G-spot with every movement, and the intensity of the sensation was almost too much to bear. My moans grew louder, the vibrations from the gag reverberating through my skull as I tried to keep my voice from escaping.
Each time he thrust into me, it was like a hot hand was gripping my pussy, teasing it, adding another layer to the pleasure he was giving me. The heat of his skin against the chill of the glass was a symphony of sensations that had me squirming in the ropes, desperate for more. As the orgasm built inside me, I clenched my thighs as to grip him tighter as he slid in and out of my wet, tight cunt. The feeling of his cock sliding through my folds was intense, and I knew he could feel the contractions of my pussy as I approached another climax. It was a silent plea, a desperate attempt from my body to force him over the edge and make him spill his seed inside me.
The deliveryman seemed to sense my need, his movements slowing as he leaned down and whispered into my ear, "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock."
His voice was like a dark melody, guiding me to the precipice of pleasure and then shoving me over the edge. I felt the warmth of his breath on my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he took one of my earlobes between them and tugged gently. The pressure grew, my muscles tightening around him as he pushed deeper, his strokes becoming long and languid. Each movement was a deliberate tease, a promise of the release that was just out of reach. The coldness of the glass was forgotten as my body was consumed by the fire that was building inside of me. The only thing that existed in that moment was the feeling of his cock moving in and out of me, the slap of skin on skin, and the muffled sounds of my own desperation. And then it hit me, a climax so intense it was almost painful. My body arched off the table, my back bowing as the orgasm ripped through me like a tornado.
The deliveryman's grip on my hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fucked me through it, never giving me a moment's reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. My eyes rolled back in my head, the only sound in the room the muffled cries that escaped around the gag. My legs were trembling, my muscles turned to jelly as he continued to pound into me. The cold glass was a shock against my overheated skin, the friction creating a delicious burn that only added to the crescendo of sensation. I could feel my pussy clenching around his cock, the ropes digging into my skin as my body tried to escape the onslaught of pleasure. But just as quickly as the orgasm had hit me, I found myself laying on the glass, twitching with a strange mix of satisfaction and anger. He hadn't cum yet, and the realization that he was holding back, savoring my humiliation and pleasure, was infuriating. It was as if he was toying with me, a cat playing with a mouse before delivering the final blow.
I glared at him over my shoulder as my chest heaved, my eyes pleading for him to release me from this delicious torment. The deliveryman smirked, as if reading my mind, and stood up, his cock slipping out of me with a wet sound that made me blush even deeper. He walked over to the tripod, his cock bobbing with every step, and nudged it so that it faced the couch. With my face resting against the glass top of the coffee table I just stared at him as he moved behind me. I felt his arms wrapping around me, but I was so utterly exhausted that my body went ragdoll as he lifted me up onto my feet. He then left a trail of kisses up, down and around my body as he moved behind me leaving a trail of fire wherever his lips left. As he did this he kept both of his hands on my hips to help keep me standing before finally he sat down on the couch behind me. Once again, I was lifted into the air, my back resting against his firm chest as he lowered me down onto his waiting cock.
The feeling of being filled by him was almost too much, and I moaned loudly around the gag as he impaled me on his length. This new position had my ankles high in the air as his hands lifted me up and down on him. The manner in which he manipulated my body made me feel light, as if I was floating on a sea of pleasure and pain. He held me still, his strong arms wrapped around my waist, as his hips began to rise and fall with purposeful strokes. Each piston-like thrust sent waves of sensation through me, the ropes biting into my skin a constant reminder of my helplessness. The smell of our mingled arousal filled the air, a heady aroma that only served to drive me wilder. His breath was hot against my neck, his teeth occasionally grazing my skin as he whispered dark, delicious promises in my ear.
As our rhythm grew more frenzied, my heels began to flail back and forth in the air again. My chest heaved and I let out louder and louder whimpers at each thrust. The sound of his thighs slapping against my ass and the occasional squeak of the couch filled the room. Our breaths grew increasingly ragged, and I could feel his heart pounding against my back, a primal beat that matched the tempo of his hips. I smiled as I realized he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer and the anticipation of his release was almost as intense as the pleasure he was giving me. His grip tightened and his strokes grew erratic, the muscles in his arms flexing as he held me in place. Then he wrapped one of his arms around my midsection to hold me in place while his other hand snaked around my throat. His hips continued to piston upwards while his hand tightened around the sides of my throat. He wasn’t cutting off my air but the message the action represented was clear and it only added fuel to my burning fire. He grunted, his breaths coming in sharp pants as he neared climax. And then, with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, he came.
His cock pulsed inside me, sending wave after wave of hot, sticky cum filling me up. The sensation was so intense that it triggered an orgasm in me unlike any I'd ever experienced before. My vision swam, the edges of the room blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors as the most intense pleasure I'd ever felt overtook my body. My core spasmed around him, the muscles contracting and releasing in a delicious rhythm that had me seeing stars. It was as if my body was having a seizure of pure ecstasy, every nerve ending on fire with sensation. Before I knew it my vision was fading to black and when I finally came to, I nearly balled my eyes out, not because of what had happened, but because of the fear that it was over and that I'd never get to experience such a thing again.
It took me some time after regaining consciousness to get free from the ropes. The deliveryman had left me my escape scissors sitting next to me where I'd passed out, so it wasn't too difficult to free myself. The ropes had left plenty of marks on my skin, a wonderful reminder of the night's events that would take days to fade. My limbs felt like jelly, and my body was still covered in a sheen of sweat as I sat there looking around my dark interior of my living room. The house was eerily quiet, the only sound my own softening breathing. It wasn’t until I’d sat back down after freeing my elbows that something caught my eye and I shakily stood back up and stumbled over to the tripod, my legs still wobbly from the intense session.
There was a note taped to my camera, plucking the paper I read the message in the flickering light of the candles, "I'll be back next Friday night, be ready for me and leave your back door open if you want more."
I studied the note, my heart racing as I realized he wanted more, which would have more than likely freaked most people out, me I just smiled as I doubted he wanted more as much as I did. The thrill of the unknown, the danger, the feeling of complete submission was something I hadn't felt… ever. It was an addictive feeling, like a drug that had hooked me with the first hit and I knew I'd be counting down the days until he returned, eager to see what new twists he had in store for me.