Just Five Minutes · Part 1 (1/2)
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Part One
"Just five minutes, tops," I said, looking into her big brown eyes.
Teri was her name, and besides a nice rack and a sweet ass, she was my date for the evening. And, apparently, there was some soothing to
I kissed her again, long, soft, and felt her melt a little more.
Best Italian restaurant in town and a few martini's afterward and she was just about as horny as I was. But still, the little matter of getting it all started, getting the ball rolling, getting the boat away from port.
The handcuffs.
I dangled the pair in front of her eyes again and felt her body stiffen.
Yeah, she was turned on, but the cold gleam and harsh reality of steel was maybe not what she thought would do the trick. I knew she considered herself a little experimental, but in her mind, a blow-job in a backseat of the bar parking lot was the limit. This would be pushing the envelope.
"I don't know…" Her face scrunched up and I knew it was for my benefit. She was trying to divert to something more familiar.
Something safe. Oh, she definitely was curious. But the cuffs scared her. As well they should. In the hands of the wrong person, such instruments could very well be a huge set-back to personal freedom. They spoke so much, those little circlets of steel.
Once the final ratchet clicked they weren't coming off without the key.
I grinned. "I'll even give you the key." I showed her the little key chain and the bronze colored key that dangled from it.
As I clicked the cuffs shut and worked the key in the little slot on one of them, she watched with doe eyed fascination. With a quick twist, I popped the cuff open and she shuddered. Whether that was for me or real I couldn't tell. It sure was pretty fucking sexy. "See, nothing to it. I'll give you the keys and if you get a little frightened you can just take them off yourself."
She tentatively reached out and took the handcuffs. I could see her eyes widen even more when she held the full weight of the bracelets.
Oh yes, these were the real thing – not the plastic toys they sold at Spencers.
She moved one of the folding circles back and forth and finally clicked it home. Using the key she opened it back up.
"I don't know," she murmured and, God, I almost lost it with those three words. So innocent. So uncertain. So sexy.
I kissed her full lips again until she returned it. Pulling away, I whispered, "It's all about trust, Teri. You trust me, don't you?"
She hesitated just a moment and I could see she was weighing the month or so that we'd shared sitting next to each other on barstools, crying our souls out about how unfair the world was and how shitty our ex-lovers had been to us against getting locked up and helpless. But this was our first real date and I could tell she wanted to show me that she was appreciative of me being there for her in her hour of need. Yeah, to some extent she thought she could trust me.
"Ok," she bit her lip. "But just for five minutes.
I've never had anything like this on me before." She delicately slipped her left wrist between the circles of steel and gently clicked the band shut.
God, what a sight. Nothing beats a girl with a set of handcuffs dangling from her wrist. She began to slip the other in and I grabber her hand gently.
"No, no, dear. Behind your back." She stiffened immediately and I knew it would take another kiss. I leaned in and gave her the thousand dollar sell. When I pulled away, we were both breathing pretty hard and there was a hungry little gleam in her eye.
"Five minutes," she murmured. I helped her find the cuff behind her back, directing her wrist to the waiting ringlet. She fumbled a little, but I wanted to make sure that she was the one that clicked her fate shut. Click. Now both her hands were locked behind her.
She still held the little key in the palm of her hand and I could see she fought the urge to immediately try to get it in the slot.
I turned her around so she faced me and gave her a quick up and down.
She looked gorgeous with her hands locked behind her. I gave her a long, deep kiss, pulling her into me and feeling her breasts against my chest got me moving. I only had five minutes after all.
I pulled away and reached down under the sofa. She was too busy experimenting with the feel of having her hands taken away from her to notice the coil of rope I brought out.
"This isn't so bad," she started to say, as I turned her back to me, then sucked in her breath sharply as I pulled her elbows together and quickly looped the rope around her upper arms. She let out an adorable little squeak as her arms were pulled tightly back and cinched tightly together by the rope. By the time she got any more words out of her mouth, her arms were lost to her completely.
"What the fuck-" I pushed her down on the sofa face-first and crawled on top of her immediately. Straddling her ass, I reached down under the sofa again and pulled out the fat rubber ball-gag.
I could feel her fingers going to town with the key, trying to get it into the slot and I grinned. Pulling her head back by her shoulder length auburn hair, I slid the ball-gag in between those full, sexy lips and buckled the strap tight.
She was still fumbling with the little handcuff key and now shrieking, and I avoided her eyes as I rolled her over. To look into her eyes now would be like falling into a well. I would not be able to finish her.
I swung my legs around so now I sat on her tight little belly and, taking still more rope from under the sofa – it was a damn good thing she hadn't looked under there before we got started – I caught her flailing legs.
Two coils went around her knees, good and tight, and more around her ankles, so tight I would have to check her circulation later. I was a sucker for tight ropes. Actually, just about everything had to be tight with me. If it didn't cut into the flesh, why bother.
Now I could step back and get my first real look at her. Teri, my date. Ball-gag crammed deep into her mouth making her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk. Arms tightly tied behind her forcing her breasts to jut out lewdly behind her sweater. Legs lashed together oh so tightly.
I reached down and pulled her to her feet by her shoulders. She tried to struggle but short of falling down on her face, a few ineffective twists of her torso was all she could muster. She was shrieking, of course, and her soft doe eyes had turned to raging, scared coals of fire. I turned her around and took the handcuff key from her fingers.
This brought a wail from behind the gag.
"Now, now, dear, I said five minutes and I'm a man of my word."
I slid the key into the lock and popped one band off her wrist. Immediately she started flailing her free arm around, as best she could with her elbows tightly tied they way they were. It took a little work to get the other cuff off, but when it finally popped free, I dodged her little fists as I made one last trip under the sofa. She began to cry as I caught first one wrist then the other and quickly, methodically tied them together.
That was that. I reached around form the back and felt her breasts for the first time. Sure, if I had played my cards right, I would have undoubtedly gotten a feel of those nice jugs anyway, with her curvy and naked beside me upstairs under the sheets, maybe a bottle of Chianti mostly drained, candles on the nightstand, maybe a little incense going from the hallway. Sure, that would have been fun, kind of romantic actually. We would whisper in each other's ears, I would start the kissing and eventually, I would roll over on to her and we would make wild, passionate love. Then maybe snooze a little, and she would maybe start the second round, somewhere in the dark of the night, and this time it would be animal, not that romantic crap. Just pure animal.
And, later, at breakfast over pancakes and bacon, she would blush and apologize for being so uncharacteristically rough. I would pat her on the ass through my bathrobe, which she was wearing and maybe reach out and cup a breast, to get things started again.
I squeezed the flesh between my fingers hard and watched her eyes narrow to two little slits. Well, time to get moving. Bending over at the waist, I lifted her up over my shoulder and made my way to the basement.
There were many things to torment my girl with down there. As well as the cage that she would have to get used to.
Part Two
"OK, hon, now's your chance to vent a little – which I'm sure you'll take the opportunity to do – but more importantly, this is one of the few times I'll give that sexy little tongue of yours free reign."
I rolled the leather strap of Teri's ballgag through the buckle at the nape of her neck, and caught the alluring smell of her perfume and sweat.
Before I released the tension on the straps that had made her cheeks puff out so sweetly, I closed my eyes and kissed the fuzzy back of her neck and thought of the things I would do with my girl.
Standing back from where she slumped in the hard wooden chair in the center of the soundproofed playroom in my basement, I pulled the big ballgag from her lips and unleashed hell.
"You fucking bastard! Fucking monster! Asshole!"
Lovely words from a thoroughly tied and helpless female and the shrieking pitch was music to my ears. I turned my back on her and reached for the humidor. From the creaking of the chair, I could tell that she was working herself up pretty good.
"Monster is a little harsh," I said, pulling out a Fuente Black
Ribbon. "Particular tastes are what I call this room."
I turned back around and the sight of her almost dropped me.
Ankles and knees tied tightly – one of her high heels had apparently not made the trip downstairs. Tight skirt hiked a ways up her toned and straining thighs. Breasts bulging against a sweater pulled tight from elbows and wrists tied together behind her back. Curls of her auburn hair fell about her shoulders, her bangs plastered to her forehead from the sweat of struggling and probably a bit from fear. And those eyes, hot coals of fire. And around her, behind her, the tables littered with gadgets of all types, toys made to restrain and hurt and torment.
A few rings were bolted to the ceiling beams from which chains hung.
In the corner was a three foot square cage, much like you would find in a dog kennel and sure enough, there was a dog bowl laying inside.
In another corner was a bed, very comfortable looking in spite of the leather shackles anchored to the four corners. Every wall was soundproofed
– I tended to like the live moans and cries better than the gurgles from behind a gag. Unquestionably – a lady was sexiest with her lips suckling a big old ballgag. But they just said the darndest things if you let them. And in the center, tied into a warm parcel of female, was
Teri on the questioner's chair.
With steady fingers, I lit the end of the cigar.
"I trusted you, you sick fuck!" Her voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch. "And look what you did to me!" A strand of hair fell across her face, hiding those wonderful eyes momentarily. "What do you want from me?"
I blew smoke up at the ceiling. "That's a loaded question, hon.
On a purely physical level, seeing you tied up like that turns me on like hell. I'm not sure why, spent a few years questioning it, then just gave in and decided it was one of my fetishes. Nothing personal, it's just that, to me, chicks are sexiest when they're tied."
I had her attention – her struggles stopped and she was looking at me through the auburn strand of hair. "As for the other part, the cerebral part, that goes a little deeper. Remember a few weeks back when we were talking about the crazy things that we did as kids? Remember?
At Harpo's, sucking down, what was it that night? Jack and cokes!
That's it. And you told me a story about cowboys and Indians and not wanting to be rescued and being tied to a tree for hours -"
She got the strand of hair out of her eyes. "You asshole!
That's different. I was a fucking kid!"
I pulled up a chair and swung it around so I could sit on it backwards.
The smoke from my cigar curled lazily around her head – she'd said before that she loved the smell of a good cigar. I smiled at her patiently.
"First of all, you can tone down the sailor tongue – such language isn't becoming a lady."
"Fuck you."
Still smiling, I reached out and found her nipple, which was hard even beneath the sweater and bra and gave it a good squeeze.
"Oww, you bast-"
I squeezed harder and her words trailed off into a thin moan.
My hand slid down and cupped her breast, my thumb rubbing the wounded nipple.
"Second, you'll find that if you did a little more listening and thinking that things would go better for you and you may learn something about yourself."
I blew a small smoke ring above her head and she watched it curl up towards the ceiling before dropping her eyes to mine. "The deeper part of all this is harder to explain and involves a little more honesty with yourself.
Close your eyes. Come on, close them."
I waited while she glared at me – had her hand been free, I'm sure I would have had the one-finger salute in my face. I sighed and went to my table, fishing around until I found the satin blindfold. "You're having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that I can do anything
I want with you. Do anything I want TO you." I gently slid the blindfold over her eyes. "Anything," I whispered in her ear, treating myself to a slow feel of her breasts.
Still whispering in her ear, I said, "How often do you let someone you hardly know rub you this way? The sacred female breasts – never to be touched, only looked at, worshipped. And yet, now I can touch
-" I caressed the tender full weight in my hands, "or pinch-", I found a nipple with each hand and worked the bud between my fingers. Her breath caught and I wondered if her eyes were indeed closed now behind the blindfold. "Or I can be mean-" I squeezed her mounds hard, crushing the nipples beneath my palms and digging my fingers deep into her flesh.
She yelped in surprise and I fought the urge to strip her and fuck her right then.
I pulled back and my lips found hers. At first she tried to turn away, but I held her chin fast, my tongue sliding over hers and finding the deep hot recesses of her mouth. She shuddered against me and
I knew that I hadn't been wrong, way back when I decided that she would be right for this. But she still needed some educating.
I pulled away and stepped behind her, running my fingers through thick auburn tresses. She flicked her head, whether to try to break free of my fingers or because there was a smoldering fire inside her, deep inside, one that she'd always known about, maybe, but kept under control.
And that was really what this was about. In one word.
"I control you now, hon," I whispered softly in her ear. "Feel the ropes – how tight they hold you the way I want you to be held."
I nipped at an earlobe and slid my hands down over her shoulders, past her breasts and to her skirted hips. "I control what you feel."
I lightly ran my hands across her pelvis, my fingers grazing, as best they could over the nylon skirt, the upper rise of her mound.
"No," she moaned weakly and tried to shift away from my hands.
"Yes," I whispered, biting her neck. "I control your world, now.
I have taken your power to run, to object, to decide." I ran my tongue along the nape of her neck, caressing the red bite marks. "But I also give back power – my power. Through pleasure-" My hands again found her hips, and quickly I slid her skirt up and out of my way.
Her panties were soft, warm, and wet, and when I rubbed a finger along the raised line of her pussy lips, she arched her back hard into the chair.
"Or pain-" With the hand already at the mouth of her pussy, I rammed two fingers in, the cotton of her panties her only means of resistance.
Just Five Minutes · Part 1 (1/2)
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