Chiller · Part 2 (2/2)
Previous
"Well, you're really fixed, sweetie!", as I looked over all the straps and tested them for tightness. “If you do change your mind now, it's just too late", I said, giving him a knowing smile and trying to be teasing and provocative.
If he had changed his mind, I couldn't tell it from Sean’s cock, which was fully erect. As always, the bondage had acted as an aphrodisiac and he had been getting harder and harder ever since I first locked on the handcuffs. But I always avoided doing any erotic touching until he was in full bondage. Now that he was utterly helpless, I reached down and began gently tweaking his nipples, and his cock twitched. I gently stroked his cock and softly ran my fingernails up and down the shaft, and brushed my fingernails across his balls, which were held hanging down into the opening between the widely spread boards which supported Sean's thighs. That ball collar was to play an important part in today’s bondage session.
“Does that feel good?”, I said. I’m sure he would have answered in the affirmative, if he could have made a sound, or even nodded. I took my hand away and said, "I've got some things to take care of, sweetie. I’ll be back later".
Leaving him in bondage, for however short a time, was another deliberate part of the game. Sean reveled in the apprehension, the fantasy of having been left alone, bound, gagged and utterly helpless. My leaving brought home the fact that I could come and go as I pleased, while he was trapped, confined, immobile. I could leave him and go about my own business, and come back to him only when and if I chose. I could give him as much or as little attention as I chose. I had all the freedom which he had relinquished, and he was completely dependant upon me. I was in total control of the situation and, with the gag firmly strapped in, he could not influence me even verbally.
He would just have to wait, for as long as I decided. He might have changed his mind about what was planned for today. But if so, that was just too bad. Because it was irrevocably in motion, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn’t even tell me that he had reconsidered. And that was just the kind of situation which he loved.
With this in mind, I stepped out of the bedroom and stood outside the doorway. I was very concerned about leaving him really alone for very long, with the gag strapped in. We were aware of some horrible accidents which had happened to bondage players, many involving gags. But the way that his head was firmly strapped into position, facing forward, I knew that he could not see the doorway, and that I could peek in to check on him without his knowing it. And I knew that his earplugs would prevent his hearing me moving around. Now I had some time to kill. I peeked back into the bedroom and then went and emptied the dishwasher. I peeked again, and then checked my e-mail.
I peeked again several more times, until about 15 minutes had passed. That was probably long enough, I thought. Time was moving much more slowly for Sean, tightly bound as he was, and he probably had no idea that so little time had actually passed.
So I walked back into the bedroom, within my fiancé’s line of sight and, ignoring him, just began to undress. Out of the corner of my eye I noted that Sean was still hard. And I knew he must have been watching me intently. When I was completely naked I continued with the teasing. Being kept horny, but denied relief, was always an integral part of his bondage. And exercising this kind of control, I have to admit, had become very exciting for me too.
"Seeing you all strapped up like that is making me wet.” I said, standing straight in front of him, giving him a full view. "Wouldn't you like to suck these nipples?", I asked, pulling my own nipples out slightly from my breasts. I detected the tiniest bit of movement, which was probably his attempt to nod. I fingered my slit, which actually was quite wet. "Wouldn't you like to stick that hard cock inside of me? You could, you know, if you weren't so tightly strapped down."
I walked closer to him, and I could almost feel his eyes traveling over my nude body. “And if you weren’t so thoroughly gagged, you could ask me to release you. And I might do it. Or you could ask me to suck your cock. And I might do it.”
I retrieved his padded blindfold, from the floor near the chair, and began strapping it in place, as I said, “I’ll just let you think about that for a while; what you’re missing!”. With the blindfold tightly secured, it was time to pretend to leave him again. With Sean blindfolded, there was no longer any need to peek around the doorway. I could move freely in the bedroom, as long as I didn’t make too much noise. I only left long enough to retrieve the most recent issue of my favorite cooking magazine. I was very quiet when I returned and just settled back on the bed to read, with my fiancé completely uncertain as to whether or not I was in the room.
Time was still standing still for Sean, in his situation. Even more so now that he was blindfolded. By the time I’d casually paged through the magazine, he might have thought that hours had passed. So, it was only about 15 minutes later that I thought, “O. K. I guess it’s time for the main event! As crazy as this was, it was what he had scripted.”
I have to digress once again. We normally buy our coffee in the large 2 lb. plastic containers. Sean had come home from the store, a few weeks previously, with a much smaller size, only about 4” in diameter. He had envisioned this little plastic container as being perfect for a scenario which was percolating in his brain. He emptied the small container into the larger one we had in the kitchen and began making measurements. With two telephone books, underneath an old wrought iron candle stand we had, the small plastic canister would be held at exactly the right height for Sean’s purposes.
My job, once he was immovably secured in the chair, was to fill the little container with a thick slurry of chipped ice and water and place it so that his balls were immersed in the ice water. Did I say crazy? How could anybody, much less the man I loved, come up with this kind of thing? But that's what he wanted and that’s exactly what I was about to do.
And so I quietly crept out of the bedroom, briefly leaving his tightly bound form, and went to the kitchen to prepare. Sean had already chipped a bunch of ice cubes into the little coffee container, filling it about half full, and it was in the freezer. All I had to do was run some water into it and put it in place. I made sure to leave room at the top, so that it wouldn’t overflow when finally placed in position. The telephone books were already on the floor under the chair and the candle stand was close by. I lifted the container up so that his balls were inside, and put the stand in place.
Done! Now what?
He hadn’t jumped or tried to make any sound when his balls were first immersed, which surprised me a little. I guess this would take some time. So I piled up some pillows on the bed, got my magazine, and just relaxed. He couldn’t have known whether I was still in the room or not. Even though I was watching over him, he had the illusion of isolation.
It can be pretty boring, sometimes, for the mate of a person who is into strict bondage. Patience and understanding are very necessary virtues. There was nothing for me to do except wait and watch. Well, I was still naked and I guess I have to admit that I stroked my slit more than once, while waiting.
Ultimately, I began to detect some attempts at movement and some almost inaudible sounds. Which brings us back to the beginning of this story. I put down my magazine and paid closer attention, thinking about how uncomfortable he must be. The closer I watched and listened, the more I could detect that he was struggling hard to escape, and periodically a vague and muffled sound came from behind his gag. I had to smile. This was the moment he had contrived. This was the bizarre situation in which he had put himself.
Sean’s quote popped into my mind; "It's not really bondage until you want to get loose!". I had to smile. Well, for Sean, right now, it was really bondage!
I continued to wait and watch. How long should I leave him like that, I wondered, before moving on to the next stage? Just a little longer! And so we’ve come full circle, back to where I began this account.
Finally I decided that it was time to let him know that I was still there. I got off the bed and tiptoed over to my fiancé and began to gently play with his nipples. That was when he began struggling in earnest, and began making all the noise he could. He hadn't known before, for sure, whether I was even in the room. But now he did, and doubled his efforts to let me know that he wanted to be released. REALLY wanted to be released!
His cock had softened and was resting on the edge of the little plastic canister of ice water. I took it in my hand, began to gently stroke it, and said, loud enough for him to hear, “You’re a little soft. Aren’t you having a good time?”
Yes, I have to admit that I knew he desperately wanted loose. Who wouldn't? I had thought this idea was crazy from the first time he mentioned it. And I have to admit that it gave me a thrill to just let him stew. Or to just let him "chill" might be more appropriate. He had built the chair! He had asked to be strapped into it! He had composed the program! I was just going along. He had asked for it, and so he was going to get it.
"How do you like this experiment so far", I asked, feigning innocence. "I've been laying on the bed masturbating while I watched you. I made myself come twice", I lied. "Maybe it's your turn to come now."
More muffled grunts. Sex was the last thing on his mind. For the hundredth time, I thought to myself, “Be careful what you ask for”. He had gotten in over his head, and he knew it. I knew it too, but I was pretending to be just his innocent and devoted helper. Following the script, just like he had written it.
I was mildly surprised when, as I caressed his cock, it immediately started to get hard again. Was he getting hard because of the discomfort, or in spite of it? Not that it mattered. I’m not the overanalytical type. It was working, and that was all that mattered.
I knelt between his widely strapped legs, took his cock in my mouth and stroked the head with my tongue. Then, slowly, I began to move my mouth up and down his shaft. He was fully hard again, but his muffled noise never stopped, and it wasn't the pleasurable noise from getting a nice blowjob. Maybe he was hard in spite of himself. Maybe what I was doing was making his balls ache even more.
I took my time for a while, deliberately moving far too slowly to allow him to come. Yes, I know! Sadistic! Finally, I decided to finish him off and used my right hand to jack the shaft of his cock while I kept sucking the head. I knew how to bring him off quickly, when I wanted to, and he came within only a few moments. Ever since he came up with this scheme, I had wondered if his semen would be cold. It was. But, of course, this made perfect sense.
I continued to suck and stroke, more gently, until his orgasm had subsided and finally released his cock from my mouth and stood up. He was still moaning. I must have been shamelessly grinning as I put my face near to his and asked, innocently, "Are you ready to have the ice taken away?"
I had a hard time keeping from laughing out loud as a muffled but desperately intense “Mmm mmmm mmmmmm” immediately came from behind his gag. I took this to be an answer in the affirmative.
“O. K., baby”, I said innocently. “I’ll do that.”
Damn! I was turning into a real sadist!
I hesitated only a moment, one more long moment of enjoying his dependence and his torment, having his discomfort completely under my control, before I knelt and grabbed the plastic canister, removed the candle stand from underneath it, and lowered the ice water from my fiancé’s balls. There was a different kind of noise which came from behind Sean’s gag. I still couldn’t tell what he was intending to say, but it was certainly a sound of relief. I looked closely at his balls. They weren't blue, but the scrotum was tightly stretched around them. In addition to merely the cold, this must have contributed to his discomfort. The scrotum had tried to contract, to pull his balls up toward his body but, since his balls were held by the ball collar, the shrinking skin of the scrotum squeezed them.
I gently grasped his balls in one hand, and he must have immediately felt the warmth of my skin because there was satisfied moan of relief and thanks. I knew, of course, that he desperately wanted to be released. The bondage was no longer fun for him. Women always complain that men like to fuck and then just roll over and go to sleep. For them, the game was over. That’s not meant as an accusation. That’s just the way they are wired, I guess. They can’t help it. But I thought I'd keep him where he was for just a little longer. I released his balls and stood up.
"O. K., sweetheart, I'll let you relax for a little while. I'll be back later to take off your gag and you can give me a debriefing on this session." He made some muffled noise, undoubtedly a plea to be released now, but not nearly as desperate as when his balls were immersed. I just ignored him and left the room, smiling.
I was tingling. This was fun! I stood outside the doorway and fixated on my fiancé craving release. He had long since figured out that he couldn’t escape. All he could do was wait. Wait for me! But his balls weren’t freezing anymore, so he should consider himself lucky. I peeked in and went to check my e-mail again. No messages. Oh, well! I’d better go back.
I slowly sauntered into our bedroom, stood looking down at him for a moment, and then stepped across his widely spread legs and sat down straddling him. This was the position I sometimes took when I mounted him, fucked him, when he was strapped into the chair. If he had been hard I would have slipped his cock into my pussy. But he wasn’t, and I didn’t. I just sat there for a moment and kissed him on the cheek.
"Here, I'll take your gag out." I unbuckled each side from the sides of the headrest and pulled it out of his mouth.
"Oh, sweetheart, thank you! Please unstrap me", he said, pleadingly, almost frantically.
"I, will, honey. Right away. But first, tell me about this session. Give me some feedback, while it’s fresh in your mind.”
His blindfold was still tightly buckled on, so he couldn’t tell that I was smiling broadly, shamelessly enjoying keeping him captive when he obviously wanted to be freed. I was playing it strictly innocent.
I made him answer all my questions. He would give me a quick answer and ask to be released. Each time he would ask to be unstrapped, I would tell him that I would let him go right away, but then I would delay and think of just one more question. I made him tell me how terrible it had been, how he had tried to escape and had tried to get my attention, but that he had ultimately just had to endure it.
“And did that turn you on, sweetheart?”, I asked, genuinely curious.
“No! Well, yes! Maybe. I don’t know.” He was, clearly, quite wrung out from his ordeal.
“Remember, sweetheart”, I said, making a concerted effort not to sound sarcastic, “It's not really bondage until you want to get loose.” I finally relented and began to unstrap him.
The ultimate verdict on the ordeal only came the next day, when I found the plastic coffee canister in the trash. Sean never threw away any of his creations. Sometimes he recycled their components, but never threw them away. I retrieved the container, washed it, wrapped it in a paper sack and hid it behind the spare tire in the trunk of my car. I knew that, one of these days, Sean would want a bondage session but would be undecided on exactly what he wanted, and so he would say, "Surprise me".
You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum
Chiller · Part 2 (2/2)
Previous
