bondage – Page 44

Trapped, Part 9

As if to demonstrate that he had me, Switch started groping my breasts, my ass, even letting a stray finger wander into my mouth. Normally, when I am trying to fall asleep, I shove his hands away. I’m one of those people who likes to cuddle but can’t fall asleep that way to save her life. Now, I didn’t have the option to refuse being touched.

Eventually, he took pity on me and tied my wrists in front and let me fall asleep without being groped. “But if I find you trying to get out,” Switch cautioned as he knotted the belt, “you’ll be in huge trouble.”

I wasn’t sure what time it was or what time it had been when I woke up in what I presumed was the middle of the night. The blindfold kept me from telling whether it was morning or not. Switch must have felt me wake, because I felt him roll over to face me. He checked my wrists, checked my blindfold, gave me a kiss and chuckled, “you’re like fucking chattel, Ivy. I could get used to this.”

I rolled my eyes behind the blindfold, even though I was enjoying it as well, and fell back asleep.

Trapped, Part 8

I was still regaining my composure when Switch climbed onto the bed and pushed my breasts together. My boobs are literally just big enough to get fucked but small enough to sort of make the process a challenge.

I told him that if he untied my hands and took the blindfold off, I could help him. But, Switch just replied, “no, you just stay as you are and let me take what I need.”

The more I recovered from the ice play, the rougher he used me. He had his cock so far in the back of my throat when he came that I barely had the option not to swallow.

He released my legs and retied my arms behind my back. Still blindfolded, I was pulled up against him and practically cradled as he lifted a bottle of water to my lips. Confessedly, I enjoyed this degree of dependence.

When I had finished drinking, he removed the towel from the bed and laid me back down, climbing in beside me.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” I asked.

He chuckled, “I think you’re forgetting I took you. You’re mine now until I decide to let you go.”

Trapped, Part 4

After securing my arms to the headboard, Switch pulled my legs apart. On the sides of his bed, he had already set up belts that he looped around my ankles and pulled taut. Spread and bound, I squirmed around on the bed and tested the strength of the belts. I had about an inch of give either way, I could barely move.

Switch ran his hand up the back of my thigh and chuckled, “can’t fight me now, can you?” He slapped my ass and laughed so more when I gasped and lurched in my bonds. “No, I think I’ve got you to myself now.” He sneered and grabbed my ass, shaking it slightly, “and we’re going to have so much fun.”

I continued to pull against the bonds and shake my head. “Come on, let me go.” I didn’t want to give in too easily. Switch reached up and grabbed my hair, holding my head still and trying to push his fingers into my mouth. I bite down, not too hard, to voice my protest.

Switch pulled his fingers back, dropped my head and said nothing. He walked over to the other end of the bedroom and I heard him putting his sneakers on and grabbing his keys. I pulled hard on the belts. He’d left me tied this way to his bed before (I’ll fill you in on that story at another time, I promise), leaving the knot at my wrist within reach so I could let myself out if I needed.

“Please, don’t go,” I begged with sudden enthusiasm. “Don’t leave me here. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

All I heard next was the door close behind him.

Trapped, Part 3

(Disclaimer: The acts described here, despite their forcefulness and my resistance, were entirely consensual. I had a safe word and I could have stopped the encounter at any time if I did not feel comfortable.)

Switch groped my body like he was claiming it, communicating in chuckles and grunts the vastness of the control he wanted. He sneered at my lace bra and the way it barely shielded my breasts from his hands, barely hid the arousal voiced by my nipples.

“Look at this,” he breathed, pushing my shirt aside further. I gasped and tried to shove him off, attempting to push myself off the wall. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, “I don’t think so, slut. I don’t think that’s how this goes.”

He dragged me over to his bed and shoved me up against the side of it. He bumped me with his body, forcing me to bend over as he started to yank off my clothing. My hands fumbled at my clothes, snatched his hands, frantically tried to protect my body.

Switch pulled the off the last of my clothing, my panties, with a rough tug He grabbed me quickly after, throwing me onto his bed and pushing me down on my stomach. The whole while, I fought feebly.

When I saw the belt already looped around his headboard, ready for my wrists, I swallowed hard. He must have seen me, because he placed his hand on the back of my head and shoved my face down into his sheets. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell what it was, but the texture of his sheets somehow felt different.

“Now, hold still, baby. Don’t want to have to hurt you like this,” he pulled my wrists up toward the headboard. I yanked back theatrically. “I want it to be fun when I hurt you.”

Meet Switch, Part Three

Switch pulled me over his lap, raising a knee so my ass was pushed up into the air. His fingers laced through my hair and pulled my head up sharply. He leaned down to kiss me roughly.

“Your mouth tastes like pussy,” I grinned and he shoved my head back down onto the bed.

He traced his fingers down to my slit and rubbed up and down a few times. I was still a little tender from having just cum twice from him going down on me and I sucked in a deep breath when he shoved a finger inside of me.

“Well, your pussy tastes so good, baby, I think you should have some more,” he pulled his finger out of my cunt and moved it in front of my face. “Go on. Taste yourself.”

I leaned my head forward and took his finger into my mouth. Masquerading a smirk behind pursed lips, I started to bring my head up and down on his finger as if I were sucking it off.

“Goddamn,” he murmured as I sucked. “You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” I winked over his finger. He pulled his finger from my mouth and smacked my ass hard. “You little fucking tease, I think it’s time to put you in your place.”

Meet Switch, Part Two

Switch’s natural submissiveness seemed to complement his dominating me very well. He knew what worked. He knew how to tease and how to make me beg and how far to take it. And it really seemed to shine through when one of the first things he really wanted to do was eat my pussy.

And yet there was still a sense of control even in the generosity of the act. He yanked my skirt off and then my panties with an eager roughness. He teased around it for a while, licking and biting my thighs, kissing over the lips. I shook against his face, I whimpered softly when he breathed across my lips, I whined whenever he would get close to my cunt, only to move back away again. The blindfold only heightened the sensations as I begged for him to lick my pussy.

It had started pouring when we left for the night and now the only sounds in the room were my moaning and the rain. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally leaned in and let one long, slow lick trail over my slit. My body lurched against him a bit and I let out a sigh of relief. He could barely stifle a chuckle and I started to laugh a bit as well, knocking the side of his head playfully with my leg to tell him to keep going.

He ate me zealously and refused to stop until I came not once, but twice and was reduced to a gasping, trembling mess underneath him. I barely registered it when he untied my wrists, pulled the blindfold off, and yanked me across his lap.

Meet Switch, Part One

Tumblr, meet Switch.

We’ve been friends for about a year now. In January, it seemed like something was going to develop between him and I. But, he’s teammates with that guy from my frat and he sort of backed off once he and I got involved. Man code or whatever. But, that guy from my frat and I are quite done for reasons I’ll detail when I have time. So, the playing field was wide open for Switch and I was receptive.

Just around twelve hours ago, I was at Switch’s place. Prior, we’d been out with friends to see a band and sort of broke off and hung around together. We danced. We started kissing. We made it through the whole night being relatively civilized adults. But, after a swing by my place for a toothbrush and some other essentials, I wound up at his.

And at around this time in the evening, he had removed his belt and tied my wrists to the headboard. Normally, he admitted, he liked to be submissive. But something about the way the night was panning out had driven him to ask if he could take charge instead. My top, jacket, bra, and shoes were scattered across his floor. My panties were still on, my skirt was bunched up around my waist. He was still fully dressed when he tied a scarf over my eyes.

“You know why I think I wanted to tie you up?” He asked as he ran a hand down my thigh. He was standing beside the bed. He gripped my thigh and pulled my legs open wide. “I think I liked the idea of having this body all to myself, to do whatever I wanted with.”

He ran his hand over my stomach and stopped at one of my breasts, tweaking the nipple. In normal interactions, he’s fairly reserved. Suddenly, now, the tone of his voice had changed and he spoke with a blunt confidence that seemed to suit him better. “And now that I have it, I think we’re going to have a little fun.”

Okay. So. Let me get this straight.

I’m supposed to function like a normal human being.

But there are pictures like this to keep me distracted.

Life is so unfair. Just look at how he’s holding her. His hand overwhelms her face.

The real bonds that hold someone aren’t rope or chains or leather. You can’t buy them in a sex shop or a hardware store. You can’t call them pervertibles or pass them off as arts and crafts supplies. They can’t be removed with a scissor or a key.

There’s a point where you just decide to give yourself over and that’s it. You’re bound, hand and foot. Locked away. Restrained. Vulnerable.

Sometimes, it’s incredibly freeing. Others, it’s horribly painful. There’s moments where it tears at you so completely because you realize the true depth of it. There’s moments where that same realization fills you with such utter joy that it renders you wordless. Surrender is a strange feeling because you haven’t completely lost yourself, just the battle.

And you’re bound long before you realize you are. There are new feelings and there are ways you can no longer move. And there’s a persistent idea, a simple phrase that at the same time feels so desperately painful and so indescribably wonderful.

I’m your girl.

itmakesmewet:

lovely.

fullfrontalnerd:

catphrodite by Marcus Ranum

The struggling is all for show, really. She wants it, she asked for it by name. But when she gets what she wants, she simply can’t hold still.

She’s been told before that these things are wrong, perverse. To accept them in practice would be to accept them in principle. And she couldn’t do that. She’s a woman of principles.

And so she squirms. And she gasps. And she begs please don’t. Usually, she’s given it anyway. But, sometimes, the action stops. And she has to beg for it. Admit it. Claim it.

She has to give it a name again. And by naming it, she makes it hers.