His hands traced up my spine, sending tingles through my body. I could feel his fingertips lightly tickling the tiny hairs on my skin, hardly touching me at all and yet almost penetrating my flesh.
It seemed like every time the pads of his fingers reached my skin my thighs parted a little further. I could feel myself involuntarily pushing my backside into the air, thrusting my open pussy towards him as if for his inspection.
He touched me again and again I raised myself, yearning for his touch to tickle me there, where I ached for him.
My arms pulled against the ropes binding them to the corners of my bed. I sought for a glimpse of light underneath the blindfold I wore, but I could see none. I flexed my legs again, testing the ropes holding them. Everything was too tight to escape. He was too experienced at tying me this way, teasing me this way. He was a pro at this, and it was hopeless for me to think that my torture would end soon.
A moan escaped my lips as his fingers left my skin, and I focused on listening to his light footsteps as he paced around me, walking to the other side of the bed. I tried to anticipate what he would do next, but I could not. He always surprised me, every time. It was never the same, but always, as with the last time, it drove me wild.
I mentally followed the footsteps as the crossed the room, and I strained to hear the sound of him opening a drawer. My heart jumped, guessing at what he could be taking out of the dresser. We kept our toys in that drawer, our ropes and blindfolds and gags. Also, we kept toys that he could use to hurt me a little bit, softly, the way I liked. I heard a scraping as he sought what he was looking for. The drawer shut and he walked back towards me.
I tried to show him the anxiety I was feeling. I writhed about on the bed, messing the sheets, rubbing my face against the pillow in hopes of dislodging the blindfold a bit so that I could see what he held in his hand. He clucked softly with his tongue, indicating that I should stop, and I did, falling quietly back on the bed.
My chest heaved with my deep breaths as he stood there, next to me, unmoving. Rubbing my nipples against the bed slightly for some stimulation, I felt the rush of arousal flow towards my pussy again, and I again involuntarily lifted myself, offering my charms to him.
He chuckled, and moved again, walking around me.
I flexed my fingers, stretching them and relaxing them, then held tight to the ropes as I tried to remain calm. It was so easy, helpless like I was, to lose control over myself and become a purely sexual creature. But I tried to retain some dignity, to stay still while he decided what he was going to do.
A groan escaped my lips, a wild groan that seemed animalistic, lustful. My face turned bright red at the noise. I hadn’t expected it; it had come completely as a surprise, even to me. I could practically see him smiling at me, knowing the power he held over my body at this moment.
Something touched my skin, and I practically jumped off the bed, my back arching in surprise. He dragged the leather down my back in a smooth motion, tracing my spine with it as he had done with his fingers earlier. The flogger’s trail ended at my tailbone, where it began a trip back up my body to my neck.
I pushed my head further down into the bed, allowing more access to my neck. He tickled my neck with the short leather strands, causing me to smile, and then drew the instrument away.
I heard a hissing noise but didn’t have time to prepare my body for the force of the strike. The leather hit my skin with a crack, and my whole body jumped, seeming to leave the bed entirely. My body quivered with aftershock as I listened to him walking around me again. My mind raced as I tried to prepare the part of my body that he would strike next, different parts of my body tingling with anticipation.
Another hiss and the leather struck again, my thighs this time. I could feel the heat rising from my pussy turn up a notch, growing hotter, as I raised my bottom towards him again.
I needed him so badly. I whimpered, straining my body upwards towards him, yearning for any touch of his hand.
I heard the leather flogger hit the ground with a thud as he discarded it, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The soft thud of his footsteps surrounded me again, and I turned my face over to rest the other cheek on my pillow, facing him, but unable to see him.
I sighed as a soft finger reached out and touched the newly formed welt on my bottom. He stroked the bump, running his finger gently all along its length. He then moved to my thigh, tracing the welt there, as I pushed myself up towards him again.
His fingers left my skin. My body felt cold from the lack of his presence. I fell down against the mattress, deflated, my skin yearning for another touch.
My pussy was sopping, fluids dripping down my thighs and gathering at the blanket underneath me. With each movement I made, I could feel the pools of juices rubbing against my skin. The very touch of the wetness made me even hotter, and I could feel the skin peeling away from my body, my pussy opening and presenting itself to him. My own scent filled my nostrils.
A cold object nudged against my lower lips, sliding across the slick surface and slowly poking a rounded tip inside me. I raised my hips, eager for any penetration, moaning frantically as he pushed the phallus inside me, and then withdrew it.
I relaxed again, falling down, dropping my hips. He chuckled softly and touched the object to me again, this time sliding it in just about an inch and then withdrawing it. He slid the wet tip up my slit, slick noises filling my ears. The round tip rubbed against my swollen clit, and I cried out softly as he tickled me there, teasing my nub.
The object withdrew again. I lay, panting, in the pool of my own juices, my hands clenching and unclenching, desperate for more. I wanted him, it, anything, deep inside my body.
His finger touched the small of my back, right above my buttocks, and I whimpered as he slowly traced my spine again. I so badly wanted an orgasm.
“Please,” I whispered, pleading in my voice. “Please, now.”
His finger left my back and I heard him walk behind me. I lifted my hips again, knowing full well the compromising view I gave him from that position. I thrust my pussy towards him, begging him silently to touch me, feel me, fill me.
There was a rustling sound. He was removing his clothing. I nearly cried out in pleasure as I guessed what would happen next. The bed moved as his weight joined me, his arms on either side of my body, pinning me down even further. He climbed on top of me and I could feel the thick head of his cock positioned directly in front of my wet slit.I thrust back, trying to force it inside me. He pulled away, teasing me, and lightly patted my pussy with his thick staff. The hot piece of his flesh rubbed against my clit and I gyrated my hips frantically in the motion of sex, eager for his penetration.
Finally he pulled it away from me and thrust inside, pushing the entire length of himself into my body. I cried out as he filled me, the thick staff moving easily inside my sopping cunt, and began to pant as his pumping became rhythmic.
I pushed back with my hips, moving with his own, our bodies sweaty from our efforts. My clit felt as though it was ready to burst, and I felt all the nerves in my body tingle as the first wave of my orgasm hit.
Electric shocks seemed to jolt through my limbs, prickling sensations washing over my fingers and toes, and my body began to shake under his as I came.
His thrusts continued, his speed only gaining. My pussy felt more sensitive than before, noticing every tiny place he rubbed with his cock as he pushed it further in, digging inside me.
I could hear his breathing in my ear, the raspy sound growing quicker as his body tensed, and finally his thrusting stopped deep within me. I felt his arms stiffen next to me before I felt his cock pulsing inside my sensitive pussy, and then I felt the hot cum pumping out of him and into my own body.
My muscles clenched around him, milking him for all of his fluids. He groaned in my ear, his quivering ceased, and he collapsed on top of my back.
I lay panting, still squeezing around him as he began to pull away.
I whimpered, thrusting myself backwards towards him again, trying to keep his cock in my body.
“I need a cold shower,” he whispered, softly. “Then we can start again.”
“Okay,” I said, relaxing against the bed.
My body remained, quivering, in place, as I heard him leave the room. I closed my eyes under the blindfold and anticipated what he would do next.