And she had smiled, as the steel rings closed in on my wrists with a metallic sound. And I had felt my heart hammering, where I lay on her bed, and felt the touch of the hardcuffs and the bar of cast iron in the heardboard that might keep me here forever.
She had giggled as she unbuttoned my shirt, and her long, blonde hair fell over my upper body. I had been thinking that this just might be my lucky day.
But only one kiss, on a point between my nipples, did she offer me, and then I saw her hair and her skirt turn around, both bopping as she left the room.
I remained – I had no choice.
She came back some time later. I do not know when, as there was no clock on any of the walls. She was smiling and giggling, her face red from laughter, her beautiful, long hair slightly messed up.
“How are you?” she said pleasantly, lying down next to me on the bed, resting her head on one hand. I could feel her breath on my skin, her body just an inch from mine.
“Well,” I said, rattling the handcuffs. “A bit scared, and, well, maybe even curious?”
“Curious?” she asked, pouting.
“Yes.”
“How curious?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out,” she said, and opened the hand she was not resting on. There, on her palm, lay the keys to the handcuffs. Lightly she put the on my chest, where she had kissed in some time ago. Her bright blue eyes caught mine. “Shall I release you?”
How can you blame me, with this Goddess lying next to me? With her lovely body so close to mine, her perfume tickling my nose, and her eyes promising so much? I could end this dream and go home, or I could close my eyes and just surrender to the pleasure she seemed to be offering.
“What was that, my dear?” And impish grin spread over her face as I muttered something, her face coming closer to mine.
“D-Don’t release me…” I repeated.
She laughed. “You are so cute!” Then her hand left the key lying on my breast, and she put it on my hands where they were forced to clasp the bar of cast iron. “You want to stay cuffed to my bed, my dear?”
“Yes…”
“You know that you’ll only be released when or if I want to?” Her hand trailed down my arm, caressing it lightly under the shirt.
“Yes!” My heart was racing. Not from fear but from excitement at her words.
“You know I can and will do anything I want to you?” Her tone was sultry, and she smiled wickedly. Her fingers played on my ribs.
“Yes,” I swallowed, not really caring what she said, just wishing she would go on touching me.
“Then,” she said, removing her fingers and standing up, “let the fun begin!”
Then she threw the key to the handcuffs out of an open window!
“W-Why did you … What did you just…” I began, as she turned back to me after she had tossed the key out of the window. I gave the handcuffs a hard tug, but they were still of steel. I was trapped.
She just smiled demurely, swaying her hips in a way that made me feel slightly dizzy. She had great legs, and the black satin skirt she wore only managed to make them more pronounced. I was trapped, but was that such a bad thing?
“You know,” she said, and looked down on me. “I have planned this for a long, long time. I have wanted to have your big, strong body at my complete disposal for weeks and months now. And now, I do.”
Her smiled widened. “Why, you must be over six feet tall, and I am not even five!” She bent down next to my head and whispered in my ear. “You could lift me up and toss me around, if you wanted to, had you been free. But you are not. And now I can do with you as I please, and have you begging me for mercy…”
For a total of five seconds I thought that having me ‘beg for mercy’ meant she was going to make love to me. Her fingers caressed my upper body, and she planted a kiss on my throat. The touches, and the feel of her long, blonde, shining hair sliding over my belly, made me gasp in raw delight.
Then she sat up, and her fingers sought out my vulnerable spaces. Yes, I am ticklish, and she was an expert tickler. Soon I was squirming, trying to move my body away from her skillful hands. It didn’t work. I was handcuffed to her bed, and she did with me as she pleased.
“No,” I yelled as I tugged and tugged in futility at the cuffs. I fought and fought, but that only seemed to make her laugh.
“Stop it!” I cried. “Release me!”
“Ooo!” she teased. “Such a big, strong man! You can get free by yourself, can’t you?”
“No, have mercy!”
“Sorry, but this is so fun,” she chuckled, her fingers under my chin and under my arms, and on my sides. I could see in her eyes that she spoke the truth – they were full of wickedness.
And so I had to beg and plead and promise while my wrists were rubbed raw as I tried to fight my cuffs. But nothing helped. She teased and tickled me until she fell down next to me on the bed, laughing, looking at me fondly.
“Ooo, I am having so much fun! Thank you for choosing to remain here with me,” she winked.
Then her cell phone rang.
“Hello,” she said as she answered the phone, while I relaxed from the tickling. She lay on her back, and I groaned silently as her long, blonde hair fell across my abdomen, sending a tingle of satisfaction through my body every time she moved. Her left hand was idly caressing the inside of my thigh, as she spoke with the other person.
The caller was obviously a friend of her, also living on campus, and they chatted away about classes and plans for the weekend. Then, suddenly my beautiful tormenter turned around, and looked at me with a cunning look. Shifting her phone to her left hand, she began circling my navel with the fingers of the other. I groaned again.
“Yeeeees, I did…” she said smugly.
“Right here,” she said, answering another question, and patting me on my belly. “Thanks for letting me borrow them,” she added with a glance at the handcuffs. The both she and the caller slipped into hysterical giggling, and I groand for a third time, caught in between excitement and shame.
Then the other person spoke, and she hesitated visibly. “You think I should do what!?”
“No, I can’t,” my blonde captor repeated once more, shaking her head and giggling at the same time. Then, she got a wicked gleam in her wonderful, blue eyes. “All right, just for fun!”
She reached out with her hand, and found the skin on the side of my body. Grabbing it with her fingers, she gave me a quick pinch. It was not very painful, and I just moved slightly. The wicked look remained in her eyes as she pinched me again, somewhat harder this time. I gave a short grunt, and tried to move away from her fingers.
“I must try a bit harder,” she whispered into the phone. Her expression was that of one who does something that is illegal, but fascinating. The next pinch, of which I had as little chance as possible to escape as any of the other, was painful, and I yelped.
“Did you hear that?” she breathed eagerly into the phone. “Did you hear that? Wait, I’ll show you once more. Listen now.”
And her fingers found a new piece of skin, under my arm.
“Aw! Oy!” I cried as she pinched and pinched me, and she could not help for laughing.
“Can you hear him?” she laughed into the phone at her friend who was listening at the other end. I could hear the faint echo of her laugh, as well, feeling less like a man and more like an amusing object.
But then I realized, somehow, that this feeling touched me in some inexplicable way. Her pinches were not too painful, and somehow it was all worth it just to hear her laugh, to know that her friend was listening to my yelping.
And my yelping changed, I am ashamed to say, from cries of pain into guttural exclaimations of strange delight. I closed my eyes, and actually enjoyed what she was doing to me.
Suddenly, she stopped. I opened my eyes, and saw her looking at me with open, round eyes. “H-He likes it,” she whispered breathlessly into the phone.
” … old you he would,” I heard her friend’s voice say. Then the blonde hung up with a quick “Talk to you later.”
She lay down beside me, her chin on my chest, her hand on my belly, her eyes holding mine. “Did,” she said with a quavering voice, “did you really enjoy that?”
The blonde looked at me anxiously. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as I slowly nodded and managed to croak “Y-Yes…”
Her face brightened immediately, and I felt happy just by causing such a smile to appear on that beautiful face.
“Oh, thank you!” she said. “I thought it was just me who was a bitch!”
I shook my head. “No, you are not. Or maybe you simply are my kind of bitch? Ouch!” I said as she pinched me again, looking mock angry.
“Please, no more pinching. I would like a kiss instead.”
“A kiss?” she said happily, smiling again.
“Yes, please!”
“A kiss?” she repeated, getting up and straddling me. Her rump was on my belly, and her toes on the insides of my thighs. She looked down at me.
“Yes, a kiss! Please, kiss me?”
“Have you,” she said, leaning forward on her arms, her face inches from mine. Her lips so close to mine. “Have you earned a kiss?”
I didn’t answer, but tried to lift my head and kiss her by surprise. She didn’t fall for it, but kept her lips just out of reach of my struggling. She giggled until I fell down, exhausted.
“Have you earned a kiss, my dear?” she repeated.
“Give me compliments,” she whispered to me, her breath on my ear. “All girls like compliments, and in that way you can earn a kiss!”
“Oh!” I replied. Compliments? She was a Goddess! Nothing could be easier! “You are so hot! So sexy!”
“I am, am I?” She straightened up, now pouting, but still straddling me. “That was not very personal. I bet you say that to all the women you meet!”
“No, I don’t! I don’t!”
“Liar!” she sulked, pinching my lips together. “What’s so hot and sexy about me?”
“Your hair!” I burst out after she released my lips.
“What about it?”
“I adore it, I worship it! I love how it flows so thick and shiny down the small of your back! I cannot stop looking at it!” I was speaking fast, both a little scared at her sulking, and at the same time getting a kick out of this.
“This?” she asked innocently as she threw her hair up, making it sparkle in the light, and then collected it in her hands behind her back, letting it flow over her left shoulder.
“Yes! I want to brush it for you, to play with it!”
“You do, do you? Is that all you can think of? What about me?” She pouted again.
“I-I…” I began, searching for something to say. Everything about her was so sexy, but I had to find something that was not about her body, but her as a person. “I love your dress sense!?”
“Oh?” she let her fingers run up and down my chest now, and the touch was like fire.
“Yes! You wear so simple, and stylish and sexy clothes! I love the satin skirt you wear now,” I told her truthfully, as the black skirt now flowed over my abdomen. ” It’s so silky and tickles my body when you move! It’s so hot!”
“So I would be ugly if I wore slacks and a sweater?” she asked sullenly, and stopped touching me. I fought to lift my upper body closer to her fingers, but I had no chance of reaching them.
“No!” I yelled. “I only meant it as a compliment!”
“I wanted a compliment to me, not to my clothes.”
“I-” I begun, but she pinched my lips together once more.
“Try again, and this time do it right!”
“I l-love your touch,” I groaned at last, desperate to please her. “I love your sweet, full lips, and I want to kiss them! I get so hot when you caress my chest with your fingers! And your feet are between my thighs! You touch me so sexy as I never have been touched before!”
I was yelling in frustration. It seemed that I was unable to explain to this blonde Goddess how attracted I was to her. To explain what she was doing to me. My wrists, caught as they were in the handcuffs, were becoming sore from all my moving about, and I desperately wished for some kind of relief.
Then suddenly her pout disappeared, and she laughed. She leaned forward, and put her hands around my head. Then her lips came down to meet mine, and she gave me a heavenly kiss. A kiss which must have lasted more than a minute. I was eager and hungry, but she was in charge, and it turned out tender and lingering instead.
“Thanks for those wonderful compliments, my big, sexy, muscular hunk,” she said quietly, and kissed me again.
“Words like that drive me wild!” She once more sought my lips.
“And it is only fair now, that I drive you wild!” Another wonderful kiss.
“Would you like that?”
I nodded.
“I’ll even let you choose what I will use to drive you wild,” she said and smiled. “I’ll use my hair, or my dress, or even my feet!”
“But remember,” she grinned at me, “the pants will stay on!”
I watched her as she rose, her body moving with feline grace, and fetched a black hairbrush. She put the hairbrush on my chest, using it as a table, which turned me on. Then her was thrown back, and I groaned.
“What’s that, my pet?” she asked me, a smile on her lips. “All this fooling around has messed up my hair, and I need to take care of it. Please, be patient!”
If there was something I was unable to be at the moment, then patient was at the top of the list. I tossed and turned as she smoothed her hair with her hand. The hair brush slid off my chest, and she took it, slapped the inside of my thigh with it, and put it back on my chest.
“Lay still!”
I tried to obey her, but I wanted to be close to her, to feel her touch, so bad…
Finally she finished patting her hair, and gingerly picked up the brush. I drew a deep breath. She giggled evilly, letting the brush slide over my chest.
“You want to see me brush my hair, don’t you?”
I nodded furiously.
“Say it…”
“Yes, yes I do!”
“And so desperate? Oh my!” She laughed, and tossed her hair about. Still the brush lingered on my body.
“Please?” I begged.
“Too bad you are wearing the handcuffs and have no say at all. At all.” The last she breathed into my ear.
With an arrogant expression on her face she lifted the brush to her hair. Slowly, starting at the roots at her brow, she let it pass through her long, blonde, silken sheet, all the way down to the small of her back. I held my breath as she did so, and she took so long that I had to gasp for air when she had finished.
She did it again, and again, just as slow as the first time.
“Oh dear,” she said after five strokes of the brush. “We can’t have that!” She pointed with the brush at the front of my pants. There was a clearly defined bulge there.
“Away,” she said and tapped it lightly. If anything, it grew in size.
She put on her arrogant expression again, and hit the bulge once more, just a little harder. I moaned. She paused for a second, then tapped it again, paused, tapped, paused.
“Please!” I moaned, “please, please, please!!”
She didn’t look at me as she threw a pillow over it, and lifted the brush to her hair again.
I have never cared so little about watching TV as I did now. My blonde captor was sitting cross-legged on her bed, staring at her small color TV screen.
I lay behind her. She had tied a satin ribbon in my mouth to keep me from begging, pleading, whining, and moaning. She ignored the grunting sounds I was able to make, as she drank soda and ate grapes.
And every time she moved her head, she moved the curtain of dazzling silk that was her hair. That curtain was long enough not only to tease me with its wonderful appearance, but also by swaying over me and caressing and tickling me.
Can you imagine how I felt during that one and a half hour the show lasted? All I wanted was to be set free so that I could get my hands on her. Yet all I wanted was to stay here, handcuffed to the cast iron bar of her headboard.
Then I realized that what I really wanted, and needed, was for her to make all decisions. I wasn’t sure, but I might be just as trapped if I were free as I were now. I had come here as part of an innocent flirt, but now I might never leave again.
“How do you feel?” she asked as she untied the ribbon and freed my mouth. The tv show was over, and she knew damn well how I felt!
“P-Please use me! Please, I beg you! Please, I will do anything, ple…” I stopped talking as she put her finger across her lips, her eyes smiling at me.
“Use you?” she giggled. “You are such a naughty, naughty boy!”
I nodded vigorously.
“Does my naughty boy want me to take these off him?” she said in a sultry voice as her finger trailed up and down the inside by thigh, pulling at the denim.
“Yes! Please!” I twisted and turned.
She began laughing so hard she almost fell off the bed. Then she got the better of herself, and sat herself on my chest, her back to me. She was not very heavy, but her butt was warm and soft on my body, and the skirt cool and smooth to my skin. Her hair, so thoroughly brushed it was more like a river of gold than anything else, flowed down her back and mesmerized me.
Then I felt her gripping the first button of my fly.
I could see what she was doing, and I could feel what she was doing. Her fingers were so slow, yet so sure of themselves.
Suddenly the first button sprang open, and a sound escaped my lips. I could see her smiling, and a finger was caressing the elastic band of my boxer. There was a towering bulge just below her fingers, yet she never touched it.
I tried to move, to create contact between the bulge and her hand. She giggled, then reached up and slapped my face.
“Bad boy!”
We waited.
“Please unbutton the rest?” I begged.
“Are you going to be good?” she said teasingly, pulling at the elastic band?”
“Yes!”
“Very good?”
“Yes, yes!”
“No moving?”
“Ye-, No! No!”
“Good boy. We’ll see…” She studied the look in my eyes as she, inch by inch, let her fingers close upon the second button.
As the second button was released I tried to lay completely still, even though what I wanted to was to scream, and fight, and yell, and beg, beg!, for her to touch the bulge.
But she didn’t. It was still inside my pants, and she just prodded at the gray fabric of my boxers, looking relaxed and serene. Her blue eyes fixed on mine.
“You know,” she said in a husky voice, “right now I could make you do anything, make you agree to anything.”
“Yes!” I burst out.
“And the only reward you would get would be for me to unbutton one more of these. Just one out of the one, two, three, four remaining.”
“Yes!”
“You do say,” and here she pinched me again, “‘Yes!’ a lot! How about saying something a little more intelligent for a change?”
I groaned in desperation. “Please take off my pants! Please touch it! I will do anything!”
“Oh, but there is not much you can do, handcuffed like that.”
“Do anything to me, then? Please just … Do it?”
I watched the web camera from out of the corner of my eye. It had my bound body in full view, and I was not sure of this, not sure at all. On one hand I was concerned about this breach of my privacy. On the other, I found the idea that her friend was now watching everything that happened to be disturbingly hot.
Still, I had agreed to it. I had not taken long to either. If I did not agree, she had said, then she would not touch my pants, and release me instead. And for some reason I did not want to be freed. Not on any account.
And so the third button was opened while someone else, somewhere else, was watching the whole thing. But that did not matter when my blonde tormentor was stroking the upper part of my bulge, making me gasp and whine.
She was laying next to me, her head on my shoulder, her hair on my chest. “I love your boxers, or what I have seem of them so far,” she whispered in my ear. “They are hot. They show off your muscles real nice. You are sexy, my pet.”
“There goes the fourth,” the blonde giggled at the webcam as she opened yet another button. “Can you believe he is still not moving? I guess he has learned a lesson!”
In truth I had to fight myself to maintain my still position even thought I vibrated with desire and lust. Most of my bulge was exposed now, but she did not touch it, she did not do anything to her. She just looked at me and giggled and smiled.
I realized that she was loving this. That she were getting so much enjoyment of out my excitement and discomfort. There was triumph on her face, wonderful arrogance.
I was falling in love. There was no denying it. It felt so weird to be so attracted to a girl like this, but there it was. She was the most sexy I had ever met. I wanted her. I wanted to remain here forever.
The fifth button was released while she was kissing my belly. Her lift were soft on my skin, brushing against the hairs, sending shivers all through my body.
She kissed on place, then moved her mouth some inches to another spot, and kissed me there. All the time her hair brushed against me, and she always moved too slowly for me, always kissed too softly.
I wanted more, I wanted much, much more! Down in the pants, now becoming more and more visible, was the proof that all my attention, all my thought, all my desire, was completely on her.
I moved my head from side to side, my jaws clenched together, trying not to make a sound. I was all the time conscious that we were being watched, but somehow that only made me feel even more excited.
I was handcuffed to the cast iron headboard of a large, soft bed, while the most beautiful woman in the world was pulling my pants off. The sixth and last button had been opened, and an eager bulge on my gray boxers was exposed for her, and anyone watching the webcam, to see.
She did not tear the pants off me. Not at all. I had not idea it was possible to undress someone this slowly. First the boxer was completely exposed, then my thighs. My knees appeared inch by inch, and then my legs were uncovered.
Finally I lay there, naked but for my boxers. And but for the steel cuffs that put me completely at this woman’s mercy.
“You look sexy,” she whispered. The she giggled as she tickled the inside of my thigh, “God damn, you are hot!”
I did not feel sexy where I lay, so desperate and horny that I was about to burst. I just nodded.
“But,” she added and smiled mischievously, “you are not completely undressed yet!”
She jumped off the bed, and went over to open a drawer. Rummaging around in it, she pulled out a piece of cloth. Her eyes shone as she brought it over to me again.
“This is my favorite scarf,” she said and showed me a piece of blood red satin, about two by four feet. “And now I will let you borrow it. With a feminine, arrogant gesture she let it fall softly over my boxers, covering my body from my navel to my upper thighs.
She crawled between my legs, reaching up, her fingers sliding along the sensitive skin on my thighs. Then, suddenly, she grabbed hold of boxers with both hands and pulled them off.
I felt naked now, I really did. Even though my private parts were covered by the red scarf. I could see the clear shape of them, and what a shape!, even as she pulled the boxers off my feet and threw them on the floor. I tried closing my legs out of some sense of modesty.
“Embarrassed?” she smiled. “Oh no, we can’t allow that, can we?” she added with a nod at the webcam.
From the same drawer she fetched something that sounded disturbingly like the clinking of chains. “Oh no, we can’t have that at all…”
I fought with her to keep my legs free, because that was what she wanted. I am a tall, strong man, and it was not easy for her to pull my feet towards the low metal knob at each corner of the foot of the bed.
Her hair became ruffled again, she began panting, and a flush crept over her face as she exerted herself, pulling at my leg with both hands. Or maybe the flush was due to her giggling and laughing.
But in the end she got her own way. She had taken two short chains from the drawer, and to each chain was attached a leather strap. One strap went around my ancle, the other around the knob on the bed corner.
Finally all the straps were fastened, and my legs were spread wide. It was not possible to hide anything under the red satin scarf. Both my captor and whoever was watching on the webcam could clearly see how exited I was.
I closed my eyes in embarassement.
I lay and watched my captor as she sat by her computer and alternated between typing messages and giggling. There was not much I could do, really. And there were worse things I could have been doing.
She had brushed her hair again, and it was a big turn-on to watch her long, blonde hair wave and her slim, sexy body moved as she typed. There was no helping it, but the webcam that was pointed at my body could not miss capturing the obvious sign of my desire.
“Lien thinks you are big,” she said, after finally managing to stop giggling.
“Who? What?”, I replied, my throat dusty. “Lien, my friend,” she said. “And I agree, you are nice and big.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she moved her gaze down to the red satin scarf.
“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks burning.
“Actually, she wants to come over and take a closer look!”
“What!?”
“I said yes. She deserves it. I mean, who do you think lent me the handcuffs and the leather straps?”
Lien was Asian, probably Vietnamese, and an inch or so shorter than my captor. She looked like she was just a few years older than the two of us. She was very beautiful with long, black hair, a short black skirt and white top, dark eyes, and a dazzling smile.
Right then she was just trying not to double over lauging as she stood in the doorway of my captor’s appartment, watching me.
And I, I was blushing furiously and looking straight up. I was naked except for the thin satin scarf, and I was chained to a bed, and I knew how ridiculous I must have looked.
“He looks a bit shy,” I heard her say, a high-pitched voice, yet self-assured, and experienced.
“Well, who can blame him?” the blonde said, laughing. “He looks so cute when he is blushing, though.”
“He does,” Lien agreed. “But he should not be allowed to be shy when you want to show him to me.”
“Oh?” the blonde replied, eagerness in her voice.
“Indeed. He needs training.”
“Like this, Lien?”
“Just the two fingers.”
“Sorry … Like this?”
“Very good! Nice and slow, pretend you almost don’t touch him at all at times, then use a little pressure.”
“I didn’t know I could feel his pulse this clearly.”
“It probably means you are doing it just right. Listen to him breathe as well, feel him move. This is what you want him to come begging for, again and again.”
“I really hope so!”
“Of course. This is how I trained both of mine. Now they will do anything just to have this.”
“I would li–“
“Careful! Take it easy.”
“What?”
“You almost let him have what he wanted. Remember to take it slow.”
“It’s difficult. Maybe you could show me?”
Their hands were upon me. Fingers moved with slow, delicate, deliberate movements, teasing me, playing with me, torturing me. Their giggles, bursts of laughter and comments had been embarrassing the first few minutes, but then I began to get turned on by that as well.
They were sitting with their backs to me, Lien on my belly, the blonde beside her, their hair, dark and pale, were fluttering mere inches from my face. The blonde looked back at me occasionally, her face flushed red with laughter, while Lien never spared me a glance.
I was treated like a plaything, a boytoy. They did not care what I said, did not speak to me. They only touched me and were amused by the reactions they got when I thrashed and fought my bonds and moaned. And I realized that I absolutely loved it.
She kissed me as it happened. It was just her. Lien had left. It was just her, and me. Her lovely face, blue eyes, and shining hair bathed in the dim, soft light of a lamp. The scent of her making my thoughts fly through the air.
I had never felt a kiss like that before. She was so tender, so delicious, and I was so hungry, so incredibly hungry.
She kissed me while the lingering touch of her fingers made me feel more ecstasy than I had ever thought possible. Those few seconds lasted for an hour, a day, a full eternity.
Then there was quiet. Despite her moving, despite the clanking of a second set of keys and the handcuffs falling to the floor, there was a deadening quiet.
Emotions washed over her beautiful face as she looked at me. The choice was mine now, and she waited.