In which Patrick is enslaved
It was early Saturday afternoon and Patrick, my lover of two months, had just arrived in my apartment. I led him to the kitchen and we chatted while I finished putting away the dishes, then he backed me up to the counter and pressed against me as we kissed. He was horny as I had hoped, but I wanted to make doubly sure. I pulled away, opened the refrigerator, and got out a bar of Swiss dark chocolate. Positioning my behind against the counter again, I broke the end of the bar into fragments and opened the wrapper.
“Antidote for my omelet,” I explained, putting a bit in my mouth.
I took a larger piece and fed it to Patrick as he pressed against me again. I savored the bitter sweetness of the candy, the feel of Patrick’s cock straining against me through his jeans, my anticipation of what I had planned for the afternoon. When we’d swallowed, we kissed some more. It made his cock strain harder. I gave us each another dose of chocolate. Then another kiss, another bite, another kiss, another bite, until he was saturated and wouldn’t take more.
I pulled away again and put the remains of the chocolate back in the refrigerator, then looked down at the bulge in Patrick’s jeans and ran two fingers along its length.
“I know what you want.” I looked up into his eyes. “I’m going to tie you up again.”
“God! You’re kinky!”
He wasn’t objecting—had no reason to—had no idea just how kinky I was or what he was in for. He expected the same thing I’d done each of the other three times I’d tied him up, and those three occasions weren’t all that different from the nine other lovemaking sessions we’d shared so far.
“Get yourself comfortable and lie down on the bed.”
He headed for the john while I went into the bedroom and got out the restraints. The first time I’d tied him up, I told him to start with an empty bladder because it might be a while before I let him go, and he’d learned well. Now he would be gone several minutes; he was too aroused to urinate and would have to cool himself down. While I waited I undressed.
A few minutes went by and he came in carrying his clothes, his cock at rest. I was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You are beautiful!” he said, looking at me briefly. Then he busied himself setting down his things.
His clothing didn’t really need that much attention and I knew he was fussing just to control his lust; he wanted to avoid the embarrassment of letting me see his cock grow to full erection while he was still standing, especially since he knew my propensity for teasing. That shyness was one of the things that attracted me to him, just as my teasing was one of the things that attracted him to me.
I was flattered by his compliment and knew he meant it. I don’t perceive myself as beautiful, and I know I don’t conform to the standard of beauty promoted by the media, but I’ve got used to the idea that there are men who honestly see me that way and I enjoy it.
Patrick lay down on the bed and positioned himself in the middle. He knew the procedure. I took a length of nylon webbing and tied it around one wrist, using a knot that neither tightens nor comes undone when pulled. I took another length and did the same with the other wrist. Then I tied each one to a leg of the bed so his arms were fully extended to the sides.
I lay on top of him and kissed him, lightly at first, then deeply, then lightly again. His cock responded from the first.
“I love making love to you when you’re helpless like this and can’t do anything but turn on to me.”
I repositioned myself so he could eat my pussy. I straddled his face, resting one knee on either side of his head, my feet below his armpits, my hands on the headboard. I was horny myself and I knew his mouth would have to satisfy me for the day, so I was going to get all the pleasure I could from it.
Patrick had given me head several times before. Once, the last time I’d tied him up, it had been in just this position. He always did it well, and on this particular afternoon I had more than a dozen orgasms. I let him go on much longer than last time, but I doubt that it led him to suspect anything. He enjoyed my pleasure along with me, telling me sometimes when I came that I was beautiful that way, then setting out to make it happen again.
When I’d had enough and one more, I moved backward and sat lightly on his chest, supporting most of my weight on my legs.
“Like my pussy?”
“Definitely. It’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”
“How would you like to be my love slave?”
“I don’t know. What does that involve?”
“Well, let’s see… You’ll have to be completely faithful to me and not have sex with anyone else; you’ll have to take off as much of your clothing as I tell you when we’re alone together and let me touch any part of your body any way I want; you’ll have to touch me any way I tell you, or not touch me if that’s what I say; you’ll have to let me tie you up whenever I want; you’ll have to play with yourself while I watch if I tell you; you’ll have to tell me all your secrets and fantasies… I guess that about covers it, but if I think of anything else I’ll let you know.”
I could feel his heart beat faster and faster as I spoke, and he looked absolutely panicked when I mentioned the possibility of his having to masturbate while I watched.
“Oh, yeah!” I added. “When we fuck, it’ll almost always be with me on top.”
He took a long time to answer, his heart beating so hard I could hear it.
“I like the relationship we’ve been having.”
“So do I. It’s not my intention to stop doing that. I like having you as a friend and companion, and I like us to cuddle with both your arms around me instead of tied away, but sometimes I want a sex toy I can play with just for fun.
“It’s way too kinky for my taste. You’ve got me scared half to death just talking about it.”
“I can understand your being scared; you’d be giving up a lot of control to me. But you know I’m a decent person, and you know I love you, and you must have a pretty good idea that I’ll make sure you enjoy it.”
He thought a while.
“Still, I can’t agree to that.”
“Oh, you’ll agree to it. Tied up like this, you don’t have any choice.”
“What are you going to do?” He sounded really worried.
I climbed off his chest and knelt on the floor with my upper body inclined across the bed, resting on my elbows. I stared at his cock, now just a short way from my eyes. It had been frightened back to its resting size and position.
“I’m going to play with my new toy here until you agree. You know how, once you come, your cock gets real sensitive and you need for it to be left alone for a while?”
I gave him time to say something, but he didn’t.
“Well, first I’m going to make you put on a little show for me. I’m going to play with you , and you aren’t going to be able to help but come, and I’ll get a real close-up view of how your cock does its thing.”
It grew and stiffened in response, and started to angle upwards. It was still lying against his upper thigh, but bigger than it had been, and pointed in my direction.
“I see the idea turns you on. Neat! Well, after you come, if you still haven’t promised to be my slave, I’m going to keep playing with it until you do. I don’t think it’ll take very long to convince you.”
I lubricated my index finger in the drop of fluid at the tip and slid it over the frenum. His cock jumped and came to rest against his lower abdomen, grown again to its full size.
“You were trying to hold that back, weren’t you?”
Again I gave him a chance to answer, and again he didn’t.
“See? I know how exciting this is for you. Of course if you really don’t want to be my love slave—if the idea really turns you off—all you have to do is keep from coming. After an hour or two I’ll get the message and let you go.”
I got some tissues and knelt alongside his right hip. I wiped the end of his cock, then used my thumb and forefinger to squeeze the rest of the fluid in his urethra out into one of the tissues and wiped again.
“I think you’ll agree to it though. When you’re ready, just let me know and I’ll stop what I’m doing. No sense torturing you any longer than necessary.”
I took his cock between my hands and started milking. I knew that the situation itself excited him so much, he would come in less than a minute no matter how gentle the stimulation, but I wanted to get in a few words to make sure we’d be on the same wavelength next time we saw one another.
“We’ll be doing a lot of this kind of playing, now that we both know how it turns you on. Next time we get together, I’ll probably tie your hands behind you and drop your pants first thing, then press against you and kiss you like we were doing before, until your cock is sticking straight out in front of you. Then I’ll back away and just look at it.”
I let go of his cock and stared at it.
“My sex toy!”
He had been breathing heavily, still was, and now his cock twitched its enthusiasm for my attention.
“Yummy! Nice fantasy, isn’t it?”
I waited for an answer again, still not touching him.
“You’re going to have to get used to sharing your thoughts and feelings with me. It’s part of being my love slave.”
Still nothing. There was no sense making an issue of it; by our next date he would have had an unbearable excess of time in which to rehearse the secrets he wanted to share with me, and he’d have plenty to say.
“I know the thought of that scene turns you on, even if you’re not used to admitting it, just like I know you’re turned on by the idea that I’m going to watch you spurt.”
I resumed my stroking.
In seconds he was panting. I felt his cock stiffen and I knew he was at the point of no return.
“You’re losing it, Patty!”
And he did. His panting turned into a stream of short cries and he dug his heels into the mattress, lifting his bottom off the bed. His cock relaxed for a fraction of a second, then stiffened again, sending a gob of come splashing onto his cheek.
I continued milking his cock, keeping pace with the rate of its throbbing.
“That must feel so good!”
After half a dozen spurts I reminded him, “Now, you just let me know when you’re ready to make that promise, and I’ll stop.”
I continued stroking at the same rate.
Even before he ran out of fluid, his breathing turned to a kind of whimpering, and the sound intensified as he realized he needed the stimulation left off. He tried twisting his lower body to get his cock out of my reach, but I followed along and continued my stroking. Soon he was squirming continuously and begging me to stop. I didn’t answer, just went on doing what I was doing, enjoying the sense of power I got from holding him in that state, loving him in his helplessness. He endured it longer than most men are able, but at last he gave in.
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! Just stop!”
I let go as soon as the first, “I’ll do it!” registered. As I’d told him, I saw no sense in torturing him any longer than necessary. Besides, trust is essential to any good relationship, and I wanted to show him that I keep my word.
“Good. I knew you’d see it my way.”
I smiled at him, lovingly, the way I felt. He looked back at me shyly, trying to compose himself. I could see in his eyes how much in love he was, and the embarrassment he felt, and his confusion at it all.
“I got to watch your come.”
He lay there looking at me for a moment.
“I guess you did. God! I love you. I don’t know what to make of it, Georgeann, but I love you.”
“I love you too, Pat.”
I looked into his eyes a while longer, then broke away to get a towel.
“Clean you up!” I said, making a display of my thoughtfulness.
And I made the cleanup as intimate and affectionate as I knew how. First I wiped away the puddles of come, then, with short strokes, I dried and fluffed his pubic hair. After that, I squeezed the residual come out of his urethra onto the towel the way I’d got rid of the lubricating fluid earlier, and lastly I wiped the end of his cock dry again.
I put the towel aside and admired him, looking at his body, gazing into his eyes, just enjoying his company. Finally I took hold of his cock again.
“My sex toy!”
“I guess I am. I’ve never loved anyone this completely.”
“Neat! I’ll do my best to help you enjoy it.”
I undid the knots in the nylon webbing and lay down next to him. We cuddled, spoke again of our love, kissed, napped.
When we awoke, it was evening and we were hungry. We dressed and set out on our customary walk to Francescas Pizza, where we shared an agreeable dinner of Francesca’s simple but honest food. Sitting there together, we looked for all the world like a wolf guru and his brainwashed waif, except to Francesca, who knew me too well to be fooled.