Chapter 2: The Tease
She released him, leaving him twitching and aching on the sheets. Without a word, she slipped from the bed and padded over to her dresser. The soft clink of metal against wood made him turn his head. When she returned, she held a long, narrow strip of black silk and a small, ominous leather pouch.
“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice devoid of its earlier playful warmth. It was flat, instructional.
He did. Her expression was focused, almost clinical, as she shook two small, silver clamps from the pouch. They were connected by a fine chain. He’d seen pictures of such things, but never in real life, gleaming in the candlelight like alien jewelry.
“Open,” she said, holding the silk.
He opened his mouth, a reflex. She folded the silk and placed it between his teeth. “Bite down. You’re going to need it.”
Then she pulled the blindfold over his eyes. The world vanished into profound, velvety black. His other senses roared to life. The smell of sex and her perfume intensified. The feel of the silken sheets beneath his sensitized skin was almost painful. The sound of her breathing, of the chain in her hand, was deafening.
He felt the mattress dip as she knelt beside his hip. Her fingers, cool now, traced the outline of his cock, which was already stiffening again under her casual touch. Then her mouth was on him. Not with the ferocity from before, but with a slow, deliberate expertise that was somehow worse. Her tongue lapped at the head, catching the fresh pearl of pre-cum, swirling around the ridge. She sucked just the tip into the wet heat of her mouth, her cheeks hollowing, then released him with a soft pop.
She did it again. And again. A relentless, maddening rhythm designed not to bring him off, but to keep him teetering on the precipice. Her mouth was a torturous paradise. He whimpered around the silk in his teeth, his hips lifting in tiny, helpless jerks. She’d allow it for a second, then press a firm hand on his stomach, pinning him back down.
“Uh-uh,” she murmured, her breath hot on his wet flesh. “You don’t get to fuck my face. You get to take what I give you.”
She took him deeper then, her throat relaxing, and he cried out. The vibration nearly undid him. He was a live wire, every nerve ending screaming. Just as he was sure he would explode, she pulled off completely.
He heard the faint metallic click, then felt her shift on the bed. A moment later, her weight settled over his face, her thighs framing his head. The musk of her was overwhelming, intoxicating.
“Your turn,” she said. Her voice was slightly strained. “Lick me. Slow circles. Like before.”
Grateful for the directive, for anything to anchor him, he sought her out with his tongue. She was slick, swollen, delicious. He found her clit and laved at it, the taste of her and his own spend a dark, thrilling cocktail. He felt her shudder above him, heard a sharp intake of breath that wasn’t quite a moan.
Then he heard another sound—a soft, pained hiss. He froze, his tongue stilling.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she growled, grinding herself down against his mouth. “Lick me through it.”
He obeyed, redoubling his efforts. As he pleasured her, he heard the quiet, rhythmic clinking of a chain. The sound was directly above him. The nipple clamps. She was putting them on, one by one, while he serviced her. The thought of her pain mingling with her pleasure, all while he was blind and bound, sent a violent shiver through him.
Her movements became more urgent, her hips rocking against his face in a frantic rhythm. Her moans were less controlled now, raw and guttural. She came with a choked scream, her whole body convulsing, her hands gripping his hair so tight it brought tears to his blinded eyes. He drank her in, licking her through the violent pulses until she went slack, collapsing off to the side of him.
Silence, save for their ragged breathing. He lay there, blind and adrift, his cock throbbing with a need so intense it bordered on agony. He heard the soft snick of the clamps being released, then her sigh of relief.
Her weight settled beside him on the bed. Her fingers, trembling slightly, pulled the gag from his mouth. She left the blindfold on.
“You did well,” she said, her voice a husky scrape near his ear. “But listen to me now, Tim. Listen very carefully.”
Her hand wrapped around his erection again, not stroking, just holding him in a possessive fist. He was utterly, completely hard.
“I’m going to get better at this,” she whispered, her lips brushing his earlobe. “And you’re going to help me. It’s a feedback loop. Your reactions… they’re my guide.” She gave him a single, slow pump. He couldn’t suppress a groan. “Right now, you’re hard. Rock hard. And it’s up to you if you do, remember? Your body, your choice.”
She let that hang in the dark air.
“So here’s what’s going to happen. Because you’re hard, I’m going to make you cum inside me. I’m going to ride you until you fill me up. Then,” her voice dropped to a conspiratorial, cruel whisper, “I’m going to climb up on your tied body, sit on your chest, and show you my sloppy pussy. I’m going to tease you and tell you this is what you’re going to eat. I will touch myself and make you lick my fingers clean. Then I’m going to put my pussy hanging over your mouth and let it drip into your mouth. Then I’m going to make you lick and suck every drop of cum out of me.”
Every filthy, vivid word was a brand on his brain. He shuddered, a full-body spasm of sheer, wanton need.
“But remember,” she said, her tone shifting to one of mock reasonableness. “You could have gotten out of this fate. All you had to do was not get hard. Your dick is a human lie detector, Tim. If you get hard, it means you must have wanted this all along. And look at you. You’re practically bursting.”
She released him and moved. He felt her knee between his legs, then the slick, hot pressure of her as she guided him inside her. She sank down onto him in one smooth, deep motion, and they both moaned. She began to move, a slow, relentless roll of her hips that milked him perfectly. Bound and blindfolded, all he could do was feel—the incredible tightness of her, the clutch of her muscles, the slap of skin, the little sounds she made. It was sensory overload, a white-noise of pleasure that erased everything else.
“You’re going to come for me,” she chanted, her breath coming in short gasps. “You’re going to flood my cunt. Do it. Now.”
Her command, the intense friction, the utter helplessness—it was too much. With a broken shout, he erupted, his climax tearing through him in wave after wave of blinding release. She rode him through every last pulse, squeezing him tightly until he was spent, hollow, and shaking.
True to her word, she didn’t collapse on him. She lifted herself off, the loss of connection a minor death. He heard her move, felt the ropes being checked. Then her weight settled on his chest, her thighs straddling his ribs. The blindfold was ripped away.
The candlelight was almost blinding after the total dark. He blinked, his vision swimming into focus. She was there, above him, a glorious, sweaty goddess. She leaned back, bracing her hands on his thighs, and presented herself to him. Her sex was glistening, swollen, a mess of her own arousal and his spent cum, which began to seep out of her in a thick, white trickle.
“Look at it,” she ordered, her voice hoarse. “This is your mess. This is what you gave me. And now you’re going to clean it up.”
She brought her fingers to her own flesh, gathering the mixed fluids, and held them dripping before his mouth. “Open.”
He did. She pushed two fingers between his lips. The taste was salt, musk, and his own bitter tang. He suckled them clean, his eyes locked on hers.
“Good,” she murmured. Then she shifted higher, hovering directly over his face. She lowered herself slowly, until her wet, open flesh was just an inch from his mouth. He could feel the heat radiating from her. A single, fat drop of their combined spend gathered at her entrance, swelled, and fell. It landed cold on his bottom lip.
He instinctively licked it away, the act deeply submissive and profoundly erotic.
“That’s it,” she crooned. “Now get to work. Lick me clean. Every drop. I want to feel your tongue everywhere.”
She settled her weight more fully onto his chest, giving him full access. He dove in, his tongue seeking every fold, every hidden crevice. He lapped at her entrance, pushing his tongue inside to collect the pooling cum, sucking gently at her tender flesh. He worshipped her with his mouth, driven by a hunger that went beyond physical need. It was a hunger for submission, for this degradation, for her approval. He worked until she was sighing above him, until her hands were fisted in his hair again, until his own taste was gone and only her pure, clean essence remained.
Finally, she lifted off him. She looked down at his face, which was wet and shining. She smiled, a true, warm smile that reached her green eyes.
“See?” she said softly, wiping his chin with her thumb. “Your dick doesn’t lie.”