“So, ‘you ready to play,” he asks?
“YES SIR,” I respond in a proper sub intonation.
“Ooo-Kay! Here’s a bottle of water for you; I already have one downstairs in the playroom,” he says, ushering me through the basement door.
Closing the door behind him, he engages the deadbolt with a twist of his wrist.
‘That’s strange,’ I think to myself, ‘Why is the deadbolt keyed on the outside and manual on the inside? Oh well.’
In the dim glow of the nightlight at the bottom landing he motions for me to turn right as he flips the light switch on.
The exposed fluorescent tubes flicker dimly for several seconds and except for the bluesh-black starter burns a couple inches in from either end, they gradually glow brighter. As the room brightens, the lights still flickering Somewhat I notice the rafters of the high, unfinished ceiling. There are large, two-inch diameter rings hanging randomly from them, most of which are empty while some have lengths of chain or lea straws hanging from them.
In the middle of the room there is an extra-wide mass table with 6-inch wheels. Each corner of the table has a steel post extending almost to the ceiling with leather straps hanging freely from the top.
Across the room, angled slightly backwards from vertical stands an eight-foot-high, padded, X-shaped cross with leather bindings hanging from each of the four corners . . . I’ve seen one of these before but the proper name slips my mind presently. I am sure I will recall it later though.
The walls consist of unfinished cement blocks, painted white. Hanging from hooks anchored into the walls there are all types and sizes of whips, riding crops and other bond play essentials.
Indoor-outdoor carpeting coverings the floor, wrapping up and covering the lower two feet of the walls. On three walls, that is. The forth wall, at the far end of the room behind the cross, is carpeted all the way up to and between the rafters.
“Oh my,”I gasp, “what do you have in mind?”
“As if you didn’t know,” he responds with an evil grin. Pointing at a table in the corner he continues, “Time for you to get naked. Put all of your clothes over there on the table.”
“What! No foreplay!” I exce claims.
“That’s no way for a sub to talk,” he says. “Watching you do exactly as I say is all the foreplay we need! Now GET NAKED!” he shouts.
“YES SIR!” I respond and begin a slow striptease sans music.
Apparently, I am going too slowly for him since he demands, “Show me your tits!”
Planning ahead, I left my bra home this morning so stretching the neck of my shirt out, I reach in and pull my boobs out and over the neck of my shirt. Pulling the neckline back up, cinching both boobs up, nipples out, I proceed to shimmy for him.
“You like?” I ask, nipples hardening, boobs covered in goosebumps — the combined effect of the cool air and my own sexual arousal.
“So far, so good,” he says, “Now I wanna seeyour pussy! What type of girl are you? Bald? Neatly trimmed? Shaggy? Something else?”
I slip my thumbs into my waistband and I shimmy my way out of my stretch pants and panties — no landing strip for me! I prefer a neighborly trimmed blonde bush!”
“Ahhhh. Looking good,” he says. “I see the curtains match the draws.” Pointing to the corner he continues, “Put your clothes on the nightstand and then sit up on the mass table.”
I do as he says and he gestures for me to lay on my back. Wrapping leather cuffs around both of my ankles he reaches up for a straw hanging from one of the corner posts and threads it through a ring on one of the cuffs. Snugging it up he lifts my leg up into the air. Then he does the same with my other leg. Watching him work I notice the ratcheting mechanism at the top of the post just as he pulls on both straps, lifting and spreading my legs into a ‘V’ shape with my butt raised several inches off the table.
Fetching a wheeled stool from across the room he sits on it and walks it over with his feet, maneuvering himself to a position between my raised legs. Caressing my short hairs ever so gently, so erotically, he says, “Not bad,” as I savor the sensing of his fingers playing over me.
“Thank you, sir,” the voice of the sub within me automatically replies.
Lifting my head to watch him, he spreads me with his thumbs. My hips instinctively rotate forward lifting my butt even higher. Lowering his head, his tongue slips between his thumbs and . . . .
“Oooohhhhh,” I moan in delight, dropping my head back down, my eyes losing focus.
“Yes. Not bad a’tall,” he says sucking my clip into his mouth. Reaching underneath me to the middle of my back he lifts me higher still. The sub within instinctively arches her back even further, leaving only my shoulders touching the table — one of those yoga poses that I have always contemplated but only the sub in me would even consider trying!
“Ooooooh. . . Mmmmm. . .Oh, Oh, Ohhhhh!” I scream, his tongue paddling my clip repeatedly, my back arching well past its limits as I ignore the pain and fear within!
Easing me back down, he walks to the head of the table and demands, “Give me your hand!”
I comply and he wraps a leather cuff around my wrist, buckling it up snug before securing it to a straw hanging from the closest corner post. Doing the same with my other wrist he then grabs the far end of both leather straps and pulls down on them, rating my wrists upward but leaving just enough slack so that my elbows are still slightly bent.
“Slide up a bit so your head extends off the top of the table,” he commands.
“That’s good,” he says. “Now tip your head back.”
As I lean back, he presses his crotch against my mouth and adds, “Perfect!”
“Will you be taking out you cock and offering it to me while I’m in this posi . ..” I ask as he backs up and wraps a blindfold over my eyes. “Hey! What are you doing?” I cry out.
“You’ll see,” he says. Then he adds, “Well actually you won’t see. The experience will be more tactile than visual!”
“Can you see anything?” he asks.
“NO SIR!” I reply.
“Is the blindfold comfortable?” he asks.
“YES SIR,” I respond.
Ratcheting up on the wrist bindings my arms stretch and my elbows straighten but he keeps going, lifting my shoulders several inches off the table. As soon as he stops, I hear some rustling about and wonder whether he is dropping his drawers.
Two seconds later I get my answer as his hard, hot cock slips between my lips. “Ooooh, Grgrgrgrgr,” I gurgle with delight, thinking, ‘Finally I get a taste of his cock! I hope he’ll remove this blindfold so I get to see it too!’
Forcing himself into me his cock ticles the roof of my mouth as my tongue wags against the top of his shaft. Pushing in deeper, the head completely seals off my throat, “Grgrgrgrrrr,” I gag, trying my best to breathe through my nose. Thankfully henotices my distress and backs off allowing me to breathe again.
He is enjoying thrusting in and out for maybe a minute or two and then he pulls out and walks to the other end of the table. “Your pussy is screaming for some attention too,” he says, penetrating me, once again with his tongue.
Pinching my clip between his teeth, his tongue circles the tip driving me absolutely crazy!
“Ohhhhhhhhh!” I call out, understanding back and forth, “That feels sooooo good!”
Suddenly he stops. Pulling back, teeth still clinched, he stretches me until my clip breaks free from his teeth with a painful plop!
Then nothing. . .
No visual cues – only total blackness.
No audible cues – total silence except for the low sixty-cycle hum of the fluorescent lights.
No tactile cues – except for the straining of the cuffs tugging at my ankles and wrists.
Deprived of these senses only serves to heighten my sense of smell as I notice for the first time, the sexually arousing fragment emanating from my own dripping pussy!
‘What’s he up to,’ I wonder with excited anticipation.
In total silence, total darkness, I somehow sense that someone is standing near my head. “Where are you?” I call out.
“Hello?” I call out.
Still no response.
Breathing deeply through my nose, contemplating my fate, I sense the warmth of a hand in front of my face.
“Is that you?” I ask.
Still nothing.
Suddenly I am started as a swimmer’s nose clip pinches off my nostrils and a cock immediately slams back into my mouth. . . All the way in. . . Once again sealing off my throat! This time, however, my nostrils are pinched closed too! Struggling to free myself, I rock my head violently back and forth. But two hands take hold of my head and pull it up tight against the base of his cock.
Panicked, I think, ‘I can’t breathe!’ I struggle even harder but his grip is too much for me! After what seems like minutes but in reality is perhaps only ten or fifteen seconds his hands release me and he pulls his cock out. But just an inch. A life-giving inch. And I gulp in a huge breath of air.
But then he immediately slams back in, cutting off my air again. But this time he only holds it for five seconds and then pulls all the way out.
“How was that?” he asks as I huff and puff, my heart pounding as I try to regain my breath.
“Very scary,” I reply between breaths. It is only now that I cum to the realization that all I had to do was bite down hard on his cock and he would have withdrawn what was left of it, immediately, leaving me to spit out the rest! ‘Oh well,’ I think to myself, ‘I’ll have to remember that for next time. If there is a next time.’
Snapping the clip off my nose he says, “Okay. No more breath-work for you today.”
I am thrilled and respond, “Thank you Sir.”
“But you’re gonna be doing a whole lot more sucking!” he says.
“Awesome! I love sucking cock. And I especially enjoy swallowing hot, sticky cum!” I reply, suddenly recalling. . . it’s called a St. Andrew’s Cross! Once bound, arms and legs spread, a person can be aroused or punished in any way desired.
He slides his big juicy cock back in and I tease him with my teeth and tongue. Grabbing my boobs with both hands he knees them roughly, pinching and stretching my nipples.
“Your pussy needs more attention,” he says, bending forward and walking his hands down my midsection towards my panty-line.
“Mmmmmmm,” I moan through my mouth full of cock anticipating his fingers acquiring their target.
“But I’m not sure I can reach,” he continues. Stretching further he grabs my thighs and pulls them towards him but not far enough.
Standing up his wet cock slides out of my mouth. “Be right back,” he tells me.
Once again I am floating in a dark and silent void drowning in excited anticipation.
Suddenly a burst of hot breath on my pussy and a pair of thumbs spread me. A hot tongue swipes across my clip. I jump and scream out, “Ooooooooo! More please!” thinking to myself, ‘Let the tongue lashing begin!’
In very short order I am twitching and thrashing around on the table. But then he stops.
‘I wish he wouldn’t keep stopping,’ I think to myself before beginning, “Please don’t stop! Please!”
Angain, total silence.
I am beginning to think he enjoys keeping me in suspension with the silent treatment. But then I sense body heat close to my head again. An instant later a hard cock slips back into my mouth and he says, “I’ll bet you’d like both holes penetrated slightly,” while pinching my nipples and using them as handles to relocate my boobs from the front of my chest over to my armits.
‘Yethhhh, Ah woooooth,” I manage to mumble around the cock-shaft impaling my mouth.
Suddenly my pussy is accosted by a pair of lips. My clip is roughly vacuumed between two rows of teeth which then clamp down, vice-like! In spite of the pain the sensing turns me on as his tongue squishes me against his teeth!
Startled by the realization that there is someone else with us I attempt to protest, “Grr. . . Grr. . Grbibble.” but cannot form the words. He pumps my mouth; his friend sucks me down there. And all that comes out of my mouth are groans and slobber — lots and lots of slobber!
In spite of — or maybe because of — the unseen stranger’s face buried in my pussy, my excitement builds rapidly. Groaning, “Ahh. . Grrr. . Grr. . Grr. . Grbibble,” slobber is running profusely down (up) from my mouth and into my eyes as his balls slam against my forehead.
Having lost all volunteer control of my body I am in total ecstasy! My back arches upward, bending backwards until my spine is about to snap. Wetter and wetter I am drooling from both sets of lips! “Ahwsp . . . Fauaug . . Grrr . . Fauwg . . Grbibble . . Fug Me . . . FUG ME!” I cry out, my whole body shuddering and shaking as wave after wave of orgasmic delight course through my body!
“YOU GO GIRL!” he shouts as the lack of oxygen only heightens the feelings of euphoria while he pumps me furiously. Then with one final thrust, he holds it. . . and unloads. . shooting deep, deep down my throat, filling it with hot, sticky cum!
He immediately pulls out. I gasp for air overcome by fear that I will drop in cum as it gets sucked into my lungs. Coughing violently my lungs clear themselves and I continue deep breathing for several minutes, swimming in the delight of this most incredible orgasmic experience of my life.
Two fingers penetrate my saturated pussy, curl forward and extract what seems like a gallon of my own sticky juices.
Lifting my head slightly he commands, “Open wide! And stick out your tongue!”
I delight at the taste of my own juices dripping onto my tongue and I moan, “Mmmmmmm.” He rubs his fingertips gently over my upper lip and both nostrils, depositing pussy juice, the aroma heightening my ecstasy.
“I hope you enjoy your own cassolette,” he says.
“Cassolette? What is that?” I ask.
“The fragment of your pussy,” he replies.
“Oh. YES SIR! I do enjoy the fragment and taste of my own cum. But I enjoy yours more,” the sub within instantaneous replies.
The fingers return to my pussy. Spreading my lips, a vibrator slips in, slowly and gently at first while his free hand presses down on my lower abdomen. Most of the way in, he uses much more force to push the vibrator in further creating a weird feeling of fullness down there. Adjusting the vibrator to a medium setting my body squirms, wiggles and begins producing much more cum. As it oozes out around the vibrator his fingers manage to collect it and feed it to me, two sticky fingers full at a time
Suddenly pulling the vibrator out, a hard cock replaces it, thrusting in and out. “Is that you?” I ask.
“Maybe,” he replies, “Maybe not.”
“Who else is here?” I ask.
“Someone you know and see fairly regularly,” he answers.
“Who is it? Please tell me,” I beg.
Suddenly hot cum is spurting inside me. “Are you cumming or is it him?” I beg, “Please tell me!”
“I never said it was a man. Maybe that was a woman who was eating your pussy!” he answers.
“W-w-what!” I exclaim in horror.
“Would your orgasm have been any less delightful with a female sucking you?” he asks.
Without waiting for my answer he continues, his voice fading as I assume he is walking away, “Several mutual friends, both male and female, expressed an interest in participating but only one was available today. And, by the way, I swore all interested friends to complete secret. They must never tell whether it was them or not. And only today’s participant knows that it is you. So, although I’m sure we will see this person quite often, no one will ever know who sucked you today other than me and him or her.”
I hear the deadbolt being opened and then the door opens too as someone silently leaves.
“Better gives them a few minutes to leave before I remove your blindfold and restraints,” he says relocking the deadbolt and piddling around for several minutes making small talk.
Finally he removes my blindfold. I stare up at him and ask, “Was it Josh?”
“No answers; no hints,” he says, using a teaspoon to pick up some of the cum that is dripping out of me and running down my butt crack. Returning to the head of the table he demands, “Open up.”
I open my mouth, watching as the long, stringy drips of cum slowly descend from the spoon and into my mouth.
“Mmmmmm,” I say. “Is there any more?”
He feeds me several more spoonful’s before saying, “That’s it! No more!”
Undoing the wrist cuffs he lowers my arms gently onto my chest and then undoes the ankle cuffs. My legs are quite stiff and sore as be lowers them but after a few minutes the pain resides and he helps me to sit up. Anothe minute or two and he helps me stand and I get dressed.
“Thank you for being so adventurous. And so willing. I really enjoyed playing with you today,” he says.
“Thank you for the invitation. I had a wonderful time!” I reply. “But please, please, please tell me who else was here. Or at least tell me whether it was a male or female!”
“The next time we see that person in mixed company I will say, ‘The other participant is here now,’ but I still won’t point out which person it is,” he replies. “Eventually, through a process of elimination you may be able to figure it out. Also, I have told them that if you ever ask them specifically, about playing in my basement that they should acknowledge that it was them.”
“You must be hungry after that workout,” he says, “Would you like to join me for dinner?”
“I would love to but quite honestly, you wore me out! Can I take a raincheck? And when we do, it’s my treatment.” I respond.
“That’ll work,” he says, walking me upthe stairs and to the front door.
“Thank you soooo much! What an incredible experience!” I say as I walk out the door. I get into my car and head home.
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