BDSM Erotica
"Bound Pleasure" a sex story by Terri Pray
Ropes crossed her body, pressing into her skin. Lines of control wrapped about her form, under her breasts, above them, constricting the soft mounds of flesh into tight bundles. She couldn't move. Breathing came in slow whimpered gasps through the gag that had been forced between her teeth. No chance of moving, no way of breaking free, just the way he liked her to be.
Cloth had been wrapped about her eyes, stealing her sight from the very beginning. How long she'd been held in the ropes she couldn't be sure, but some time had passed.
The small, golden ben-wa balls pressed against her core. Every breath rocked them a little inside her, tearing her between the desire to move with them and the fear that forced her to stay still. He had to know what this was doing to her. That he was driving her from one need to the other without even a chance to breathe between the warring emotions.
He knew. And he loved it just as much as she craved these moments of his complete and utter control.
She rolled onto her side, a low moan swallowed by the deep gag between her lips, one that filled her mouth. The first time she'd seen the penis shaped gag she'd blushed scarlet and had stayed that way for nearly an hour. Now the sight of it had her squirming, ready to be bound for his delight.
Whips, crops, the soft trailing touch of the flogger. So many wicked toys he had introduced her to over the past year. Slowly at first, building her tolerance up with them, and now she relaxed better bound or chained than she did unbound. Even sleep came more easily to her with the chain locked about her ankle. Not something she'd have ever thought would be a daily part of her life.
The ben-wa balls pressed against her inner walls, teasing along that hidden spot. Even without his touches, her body surged closer to the point where she would moan, whimper and plead around the gag to be allowed to come. She'd been against the use of them at first. How could such things ever bring her to pleasure, but she'd quickly learned that it wasn't the spheres themselves, but the way her body clenched against them.
Now she whimpered at the very mention of them. He'd sent her out shopping wearing them, telling her to practice her pelvic floor exercises with the balls firmly placed into her willing body.
Her cunt rippled at the memory, forcing the balls to play over her hidden delight. A low groan fought its way past the gag. He had to have heard that. Not that he would let her know, not yet at least.
Did he stand outside the door this time, listening to the soft, helpless sounds she made, or was he in the room? He never went too far, checking in on her during the times he kept her bound like this. Still the thought that he simply left her alone added to the fear in the pit of her stomach. Fear that became delight, need, a soft warm submission burning through her body. He wanted her helpless.
And she had come to welcome the sensations.
He was there, somehow she could sense him, the play of his gaze across her naked and bound body. It didn't matter that he hadn't said anything, the hairs on the back of her neck had raised, warning her, a soft shiver claiming her body, nipples hardening into tight pips on trapped mounds.
Would he move?
She whimpered, arching upwards from the bed, thighs tight, cunt rippling, the balls rocking against her core. The double balls forced her to move despite the tight confines of her sex.
He had to see her, hear her, smell her. The room was soaked with the scent of her desire. Pure sex. What man wouldn't know the need that dripped from her every pore the moment he walked into the room?
Was it time?
She had no way of knowing, the blindfold stole her sight, locking her into the darkness the same way his ropes had bound her body. Escape, sight, choice, they had all been taken from her. No, not taken, given freely to him.
His toy, his property.
Mine. How she craved to hear that word from him. A single sound that melted her heart, turned her sex liquid and left her trembling, waiting to know what he desired of her. She'd always thought soft, whispered words of tender devotion would have had her reacting like that, not the growl of a single word.
Corrupted. That's what had happened. He'd taken a woman who had barely known the pleasures of a deep kiss and led her into the delights of pain, pleasure, bondage and submission.
Slow steps, a smack here, the brush of leather there. A blindfold, soft scarves binding her wrists. The knowledge she could call halt at any time. Yet the more he had shown her the more she'd wanted it, needed it. And now? She couldn't imagine wanting to engage in normal sex ever again. Not with the pleasure he had introduced her to.
He didn't speak, or make any sounds to let her know for certain that he was there. Not that strange, it just meant he wanted her to baste for a little longer. Simmer in her own need.
He liked that, pushing her to the edge of reason. Forcing her to want more each time. She couldn't control it, he had the power there. No, she did. The power to stop it whenever she wanted to. Even like this she had a signal she could make, cause it to stop, bring the games to a crashing halt. Not that she would. Not unless he crossed the lines.
Lines, boundaries, limits. She knew the terms, understood where hers lay now. Some changed, many didn't. He knew which ones were the total no's.
She needed him.
A low moan, the rock of her hips, the feel of the ropes around her body. Slick need, wicked heat, wanton desire.
The world fell away in her mind, gone were the bills, the daily stress, going to work, getting ready. She was a princess captured by a pirate, her clothes torn away, bound and awaiting his pleasure. To be taken at his whim. Nothing more than a sexual toy until he tired of her and tossed her to the crew.
Not that, never that. She'd have to try, to strive to please him. Keep him interested. But she was a maiden in his arms, an untried woman, so innocent and about to be ravished once he finished passing out the rest of the spoils to the vile men and women that answered to him.
She whimpered around the gag, hips rocking, cunt tight against the balls. Pirate, vampire, highwayman, he'd played all those roles and more. Whatever took his fancy at the time.
Her body needed him.
Now.
Her core rippled on the balls, inner thighs slick from her need. It didn't matter. He wasn't ready for her. Not yet. No matter how much she craved to scream for him.
But she'd wait. For as long as he desired...
Copyright February 2006
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.