Sarah: Party Bondage Ch. 06

Author’s Note:

I know, I know. I said that the series would finish, because I had said everything that I wanted to.

Oh well, I guess I lied, then.

She’s just too much fun to write 🙂

This was actually going to be the start of another party segment, but it’s been too long and I simply haven’t managed to make a breakthrough, so I’m giving you this prequel scene instead. It’s still 2,400 words, so it’s not too short 🙂

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Sarah: Party Bondage ch. 06:

I was hot, tired and bothered as I slouched through my door, not caring for my usual focus on posture and just revealing in the fact that the day was fucking well over, and I had two bottles of wine in the fridge, and at least half a bottle of bubble-bath left.

I slammed the door behind me, kicked my heels off hard enough to go spinning down the corridor and slam into the end wall – they were old, getting hurt, and no longer even making an attempt at comfort – and slung my handbag onto the kitchen table on my way to the fridge, by way of the glasses cupboard.

I filled the glass to the brim and took a long swig while I was fumbling with the zip on my skirt behind me, and managed to work the skirt down my hips during the second swallow. In panties and bare feet, I padded down the hall towards the bathroom while shrugging off my blouse, which was hurled onto my bed on the way past, and twisted my arm up behind me during the third swallow to undo the clasp on my bra.

The bra fell off before I spun the taps on the bath, unscrewed the bottle of bubble-bath one-handed and poured a general swig into the water while I poured an even more general swig of wine down my throat, and, with energetic wriggling and the aid of a thumb, I managed to get my panties off my hips and down my legs and stepped out of them, still Without putting the glass down.

I examined myself critically in the mirror. I was still keeping myself fit – god knows how, given thefucking hours I was working – and had a flat stomach, and my tits hadn’t started to sag yet. It all prevented my new clip ring (ever stubbed your toe? Did you cry? Wimp!) from looking sad.

I wandered back to the kitchen, ferreted my phone out of my bag and, holding it and the landline handset, wandered back to the bathroom.

Oh, arse.

I checked the level of the bath, wandered back to the kitchen after dropping my phones on the chair in the bathroom, and filled my now surprisedly empty glass. I started back to the bathroom, hesitated, and fished the bottle out of the fridge again and took it with me.

I subsided into the bath with a happy sight and took another swig, judging the level of the water and then spinning the taps off with my feet.

I reached out and fished the portable phone off the chair, hitting speed dial as I juggled it into the right position and held it up to my ear.

I took another long drink while I waited for the call to connect… dial… get picked up…

“Hello, darling!” Clay said on the other end of the line. “How was work?”

“Get your cock over here,” I ordered, then hung up. He’d message me if he couldn’t.

Fifteen minutes later, as I was wondering if I would need to get up to fetch the other bottle, Clay came in with his key, I heard the opening and closing of the friedge door, and he came straight to the bathroom without being asked. Good boy!

He unscrewed the bottle and refilled my glass as I gave him my best, dazzling, I’ve-had-a-shit-of-a-day-but-it’s-good-to-see-you smile, then put the bottle next to my phones on the chair, sat on the edge of the bath and dipped his fingers in the water, judging the temperature. It had now cooled to something he would be happy with. I need heat, to relax me properly.

“Crap day?” he asked sympathetically, as his fingers lightly trailed over my thigh underwater.

“Don’t be surprised if, tomorrow evening, you hear reports that I’ve shot everyou,” I replied.

His fingers trailed up my thigh and found the now warm metal of my clip piercing, toying with it lightly. I settled back in the bath and spread my knees wide.

“Same fuckery with nobody talking to each other?” His fingers ran lightly up and down my lips, which were already getting puffy and even warmer than the water was making them.

“What else?” I replied, with Another swig. The water would wash away all my slippery, and he didn’t try to penetrate me, he just kept on lightly rubbing as the delicious feelings of slow arousal spread through me.

“Any progress at getting procedure changes in place?” His fingertips returned to my piercing, and slowly rolled it around and around as my clip stiffened and grew.

“Not really going to happen… mmmm… until the manager admits that other people have valid opinions.” My hips twisted and settled slightly of their own voltage, sending little waves up and down the bath.

“He’s not listening to evIdentity, then?” His fingers had now settled into a slow, maddening pattern that was burning itself into my groin. My hips began to twitch and I let them, relaxing into the sensings as my body woke up and my lust stretched itself and began purring.

“Not … ah … yet, but I have quietly convinced mo… most of them to start … uh… documenting where all their time goes.” I finished the sentence in a rush as a small wave of tightness in my groin burst up through me and threatened to take my breath away. I arched backwards, stretching my back and also pressing my clip up into my fingers, eyes closed as my neck arched back over my padded rest. My glass of wine dangled from my fingers, half full but temporarily forgettten.

“I think everyone in the office needs a good spanking,” Clay said in conversational sympathy as his fingers very slightly grow firmer in their circular rubbing of my now aching and burning clip. The sudden thought of spanking sent a spike of pleasure throughouth me, and my cunt spasmed.

“You bastard!” I breathed as the sensing made me buck upwards, and sent water sloshing over the side of the bath onto the floor, and a splash of wine over the side of the glass onto my hand.

“I could give you a good spanking instead, if you like,” he offered with his special ‘honest face’ as he grabbed my clip, pinched and pulled.

My body bowed out of the bath as I came, screamed, came again and screamed again before collapse back. Half of the bath water arched up in a mini tsunami, catching Clay full in the chest.

I lay gasping in the remain of the water as Clay, grinning, stripped off his shirt and pants, revealing a pair of tight rubber shorts. The sight momentarily striped me of what I was about to say, and I had to retrieve it again.

“You bastard,” I repeated, weakly, “I’ll fucking get you for that!”

He stretched, not inconsequentially giving me a fantastic view of his thighs leading up to the bulge in the frontof his shorts, and on up his lightly ridged belly.

“It arrived,” he said casually. “It’s on your bed.”

I went weak all over again.

“Fuck! Take me to the bedroom. Now.”

He hauled me out of the bath and, dripping water along the floor, I walked ahead of Clay to the bedroom, drawn as though hypnotised by the promise of his new toy.

It was lying on the bed, and I stared at it transfixed. A bundle of nearly two feet of soft leather straps, attached to 8 inches of hard rubber dildo. I feel more alive just looking at it.

Clay stepped up behind me, his crotch pressing into my arse, and his arms snaked around me until his hands cupped, lifted, then squashed my breasts against my chest.

“How do you want it?” he breathed into my ear.

I slowly lifted my arms until they were pointing straight up and I was standing on tiptoe.

Above my head, set into the ceiling, was a heavy metal hook. As I stared at the flogger, I heard Clay move away, open my wardrobe, and come back. I heard the length of chain clank over the hook before Clay folded the leather cuffs over my hands and strapped them around my wrists, testing them for snugness.

We had carefully measured that chain, and I could only just hold my weight on the balls of my feet without hanging wholly from my wrists.

Clay walked around me and picked up the flogger, setting it into his grip as he took the two steps back towards me and ran the leather strands gently over my breasts, letting me feel their softness as he walked around behind me, the ends of the leather falling off my uplifted breasts and swishing softly through the air.

I let my eyes droop closed, relaxing, and feel the first swing land softly across my naked buttons, just lightly slapping against my skin.

It landed again across my lower back from the other direction, then my upper back, then he began to get a rhythm, flogging me lightly on buttocks, upper back, buttocks, lower back, lower back again… Keeping me guessing, working my skin until it was pink before slowly building up in intensity.

I had been balancing on my feet, but I began to move around as the strikes landed, which means swinging from my wrists, taking my weight on my shoulders, pivoting on my feet as my breathing quickened in time with his blows.

He began landing harder, the blows no longer gentle slapses and beginning to sting, and for the first few I bit my lip, then let my mouth open, my body making soft gasps with each strike as I began to pant.

He slowed down, making fewer strikes but making each one count, and all from the same side, finally landing sting slashes that made me jerk away, and made my buttocks, tightened by my posture, clnch spasmodically with each blow to their flesh.

He hit me harder still and I began crying out with each impact, my back and my arse aflame, my cunt throbbing with a different kind of heat, when suddenly, perfectly in the rhythm of his blows,I felt a gentle lash across my breasts.

I screamed and jerked back, frightened for one split second but unbearably aroused by it.

Then another soft lash, across my belly, then again across my breasts, and he began working on them, slowly making them glow red as well, each impact torture to my lustful flesh, until I began begging him to make me cum.

Suddenly he was right beside me, pressed against my body, and I could feel his lips on my ear as he whispered “Do you want to cum, slut?”

“YES!” I sobbed, back and breasts throbbing, nipples aching and cunt burning. “I want to cum, please Master!”

He reversed the flogger in his hand and pressed the head against my pussy, which was so slimy with my juice that he could slide it straight in, pushing it right up inside me as I screamed on an ascending scale until his hand was pressed into my lips.

Leaning into me, holding me still, he fucked me with it in hard, brutal strokes as he whispered “You. Dirty. Fucking. Whore,” over and over into my ear until I screamed again and came, gushing around the dildo and thrashing on the chain like a fish on a line.

When I calmed down, he pulled the dildo out and fed it to me, sliding it all the way down my throat so I could suck it clean, the ends dangling onto my still tingling breasts.

When he uncuffed me I sprayed on the bed and rolled onto my back as he stripped off his shorts and straddled my hips with his knees, walking up until I could grab his cock and guide it into my mouth, following the path the dildo had taken as I hungrily slurped on him until he pulled back, making me pout in disappointment, and kicked his legs out straight behind him, between my ankles, lowering himself as I wrapped my legs around his waist.

When he had impaled me he pulled his knees up, pushing my thighs up and out, then folded my calves over his shoulders and fucked me steadily until we came together, leaving me too exhausted to do anything but lie there and sag into the mattress as he lay on top of me, getting slowly soft inside me.

“I am so using that on you next time,” I said weakly when I had my breath back.

He chuckled, low and deep in my ear where his face was pressed into the bed beside mine.

“And I think I”ll put you in the gates of hell first,” I said musingly.

He jerked, and stiffened a little inside me. “No fair!” He protested.

I slapped him on the back, drawing a muffled yelp. “What do you mean, ‘no fair’?” I demanded. “All’s fair in wild, animal sex, buster!”

I glanced down and began gently struggling his nipples, which was sure to finish the job of getting him hard again.

“Jesus,” he said, distracted by my soft stroke. “Haven’t you had enough yet?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve had enough yet,” I replied, pinching his nipples firmly and, as he yelped, rolling him over on the bed until I was on top.

I pulled off him with a wet squelching noise, and slid up his body until my pussy, slimy with both our juices, was directly above his lips.

“Make me cum with just your tongue,” I said, “and I’ll give you one of my special blowjobs.”

My specials lasted nearly half an hour and had been known to make him slightly delicious.

For answer, he licked off a drop of his cum from my lips, and slid it up towards my clip.

I signed happy, and settled myself above him. He had a way of making me feel good, no matter how crap the day was.