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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Here’s a little snippet, let me know if you want to read more 
Daniella's pulse raced. Her discomfort was real, but it was countered by a sense of wild excitement. She could have freed herself by a single sharp tug of her wrists but she did not want to. Not for an instant. Never in her life had she felt like this.
She was irked that he had left her so damn long, but then it should hardly have surprised her now she had submitted to his games. So she remained seated on his kitchen chair, naked and waiting. Her ankles had been secured with thin nylon rope to the outside of either front chair-leg, heels propped up in her stiletto sandals, so that her thighs were splayed wide. A sleek state-of-the-art vibrator had been plunged deep into her pussy, so that the protrusion at the base might have nudged her clitoris, had the device not been twisted an inconvenient one-eighty degrees inside her.
She could have adjusted it, switched it on and set it growling within and against her, rather than just fitted there tight and inert. But that would have meant ripping the crepe-paper bonds with which he had tied her wrists behind the chair-back. Her restraints he had improvised from the wrappings of a recently-purchased silk shirt; 'Tear yourself free if you want,' he had whispered in her ear having completed the delicate knotting, 'but if you do I'll truss you up properly and deprive you for the rest of the day. Either that or the deal's off.' So she was behaving herself, staying in place, shunting back and forth as much as she could to create friction between her cuntal walls and the smooth surface of the sex toy. All this while the images played out before her on screen.
He had picked a DVD from his modest but carefully put-together treasury of hardcore pornography, set aside as it was from the Scorsese, the Almodovar and the Kirosawa. Placing the chair in front of his fifty-inch flat-screen in the nexus of the surround-sound, he had maximized her audio-visual experience of the sweating, groaning, foul-mouthed fuck-action. 'Pay special attention to the third scene,' he had advised her prior to his departure. 'Because everything he does to her, I'm going to do to you.' How her toes had curled at the velvet intensity of his promise. How her nipples had hardened and her cunt turned moist.
The sometimes limited appeal of porno visuals was hugely enhanced by her current situation. She watched, enthralled, as a parade of porn slutlets drizzled themselves liberally with oily lubricant, massaging it lovingly into their curves, while the hired studs looked on in grinning anticipation, stroking those big erections. The same girls were then worked over vigorously by their hung-and-hoisted admirers, as Daniella gazed, shifting vainly to increase the sense of traction inside her own filled pussy. Not for the first time that weekend she was writhing frustratedly in an effort to bring herself to climax.
Then the other sensation began to compete. There had been an excited knowingness in Eric's eyes at odds with his calm demeanour as he had encouraged her to drink. Two litres of water flavoured with lime cordial she had downed, while tied there to the chair, her not-quite-captor encouraging her softly in between her long gulps. Now the liquid was draining south, filling her up and thwarting the desire which had been mounting, as she clenched her groin muscles to stem the flow. 'You let it out and the weekend's cancelled,' he had warned her mildly. The weekend's cancelled... She found herself unwilling to countenance that prospect, not yet at any rate, so she endured her swollen bladder, resisted the urge to relieve herself all over the bastard's living-room rug.
She sat and squirmed and endured, watched as the DVD's third scene kicked in. Physical discomfort could not squeeze out the thrill and the shame as this particular porn scenario unfolded before her. The slender nymphette with the ringletted hair oiling her body to a slippery sheen. Submitting herself to the smug fuck who got to nail her. Now there was a guy with a work ethic, Daniella thought in no little trepidation, as he set about his allotted task comprehensively and with fierce enthusiasm. Everything he does to her... Her eyes widened and her throat held in her breath. Oh my God. Oh my sweet Christ, just look at that... Then the urge to pee and the need to wrestle it overtook her concentration and she cursed Eric all over.
Just another date, that's how it had started. Twenty-four hours ago she'd been expecting a leisurely day of sipping wine with the man she'd thought she might be falling for, following a bout of hot sensual love-making. Maybe cooking something together later, nestling into one another on his plush sofa with a DVD. But then she had been persuaded to let him bind her, properly that first time, to this very chair. A campaign of mortifying tease and casual disrespect. He had fondled and spanked her like a plaything, then fucked her outrageously hard, and through every second of outrage she had been slick with sexual need. Even with the realisation that her debauching was Eric's revenge against her father, hell maybe because of that, she had come with an intensity that shook her to her bones. |
