Thursday, December 23, 2010

Go buy eye hooks. They come in handy.

"You've been such a good girl for me." He says. "I'm so proud of you, and you know how I love showing you off." He's leading me to a wall with eye-hooks in two lines down the wall. I love his praise. It makes my heart pound and gets me wet and perky. I can't wait to serve him.
"But I worry that it's only because you enjoy it. That you're not doing it because it pleases me."
I open my mouth to explain that I love serving him, that I would do anything for him.
"Stop. Don't tell me what you think I want to hear." He pushes me against the wall hard enough to take my breath away. I am caught off guard, but never afraid he is angry. He stays so calm. He simply wants to know the depth of my submission, and I am pleased to show him what I am willing to do.
He takes a blindfold and puts it over my eyes. He knows what this does to me. He knows the first time he put it on I groped for him more, lost my breath more, and trembled when he wasn't touching me. I take a long breath and nod, smiling for him. I heard him chuckle and know that whatever he has planned will wipe that smugness from my face.
He shoves me against the wall and puts a piece of duct tape over my mouth. He tells me to squat down and I do, knees splayed and pussy exposed.
I feel ropes quickly wrap around each bicep. Ropes are tied down my arm and to each eye hook so I cannot move. I can barely squirm, and I love when he watches me squirm.
But that is my love, and not his.
I am crouched and I already feel a burn in my thighs and knees. I know he is done because I hear him walking away. I am breathing, and it's all I can hear for long stretches. I can barely tell if he is still in the room. I hear some movement, and footsteps approach. I am blowing hard out of my nose, waiting, and my nose begins to run.
I can feel the heat of another body standing in front of me. I wait. And then I hear it.
"Take your cock out." His voice, the one I have waited to hear, is on the other side of the room. I have no idea who is now unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock.
"Go." I hear him start to stroke his cock. I am still squatted, and he is now jerking off directly in front of my face. I am glad my mouth is covered, but I can still feel the heat of his body, hear him beating off, moaning a little in the back of his throat.
"Spit on her." This man who I have no clue about grabs me by the hair tightly. "No. I didn't say you could touch her. I said spit on her." He grunts and lets me go, spitting in my hair as he continues to jerk off, beating his cock over and over.
I picture him sitting and watching me, suit trousers and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His tie is loosened slightly, and he is leaning forward on his knees.
My thighs are burning as I continue to hold myself up and pull downward on my arms. I can feel the ropes searing my skin as I try and ease my legs. They start to tremble, and I continue to shift.
"Slap her tits." He know how much this makes me scream and whimper. My tits are sensitive, and he knows it. I start to yell behind the duct tape. I don't know who this man is, and I am afraid of what he thinks I can take.
His hand comes down hard right on my nipples and I yell as best I can, whimpering, snot dripping down my face. He slaps them again, whipping them hard with his hand. I continue to scream, or at least try.
"I want to hear her." And of course, the man rips duct tape off my mouth. I scream at everything, all at once in forceful yell. He continues to slap and I continue to whimper, trying desperately to move and still unable. I start to cry, sniffling, tears dripping down my face as he is relentless on my tits.
"Stop." He slaps once more. "Hey! I said stop. She's not your girl." I hear him shift in his chair as the man stops abruptly. "She's mine. And you'll stop when I say stop."
The man freezes and I am breathing hard, sniffling and sore. My legs are still shaking. For the first time, he addresses me. "Open your mouth, young lady." And I do, dropping my jaw and letting my tears stop.
"Continue." The man continues to jerk off. Faster. Jerking harder. I can hear him straining to cum quickly. I am shaking more and more. I want to turn my head so he cant cum in my mouth, but I hold steady.
"Finish." He grunts and begins to cum. It is in my hair, on my face, dropping down onto my tits. I am disgusted. I feel destroyed and picked apart, raw and exposed.
When the man is finished, he walks away, and I can hear them in mumbles talking to each other. They each exchange thanks and I wait for a door to close.
When we are alone, I hear him walk back over. My legs shake and I sweat in pain. I feel him take a wet washcloth and wipe off my face. It is so soft over my skin and into my hair. The ropes are pulled away so slowly, and I know my legs will give out as soon as he stands me up.
Pain rips through me as he helps me out of my squat. I cry out, and he lets me collapse against him. I am shaking still, blindfold still on. I am struggling to hold it together, and he holds me and my vulnerability together. He pulls the blindfold off and I blind, squeezing my eyes, hiding my face in his shirt, mascara and eyes shadow and whatever lipstick did not end up on the inside of the duct tape is now smearing into his shoulder.
And when I lean against him, I can feel his hard cock against my leg. He is straining, swollen, and I hear him make the smallest noise in the back of his throat when I push against him.
I am happy. I am pleased. Because so is he.

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