Bondage and strap-ons

I’ll be working shorter hours today due to vacation-related preparations.  Look for me from 4pm to 9pm EST.

I’ve really been enjoying my client calls this week.  One that really stands out was a call from a sweet man who said he wanted me to visit him in his hotel room, tie him up and do whatever I wanted to him.  I told him I have a duffle bag full of ropes and all sorts of toys including a strap-on, and asked him if that was ok. He said he was fine with whatever I wanted to do.

And so we started the scenario with me at the door in my little black dress, stilettos, and my dufflebag. He invited me inside, and taking my bag, asked where I wanted it. I told him to put it next to the bed.

Then I inspected him, walking around him, dragging my fingernails over his torso.  One full turn and I told him that he was overdressed and asked, “You don’t mind if I undress you, do you?”

His response was to stammer a “Whatever you wish, Mistress.”

I undid a few buttons on his shirt and kissed the skin exposed there, then undid the rest of the row of buttons. My fingernails left bright red histamine marks on his skin as I dragged them down his chest, then slid my palms up to his shoulders and pushed his shirt down his arms. The cuffs on the sleeves prevented the shirt from coming off entirely, and I used the sleeves to pull his arms back behind him.  I teased him a bit, playing with his sensitive nipples, and then withdrew from my duffle two lengths of rope. I pulled the shirt free of his hands and manacled each of his wrists with three loops of rope and knotted them off, then took the long leading ends and wove them around and between his forearms, pulling them together and drawing his shoulders back. I drew nipple clamps from my bag and fastened them to his hard little nipples, making him shiver and groan.

I dropped my hands to the waistband of his pants and unfastened them, teasing his waistline and his cock through the fabric of his shorts. Then I unzipped his pants and let them drop around his ankles. I walked around him again, running my hands over him, telling him how good he looked with his arms tied behind him and his cock sticking out before him. A few moments later I had his sorts down, too, and his feet pulled out of all of his clothes, including his socks.

He was completely naked before me, vulnerable, and yet trusting.

“Whose cock is this?” I asked, as I slid my palm over the head of his cock.

“Yours. Its your cock Mistress Pamela!” he gasped.

“And you?”

“Yours, Mistress Pamela.”

“Its sweet of you to say… but I won’t feel like you’re mine until I’ve taken you, boy. Shall I take you? Make you mine?”

“Oh yes, Mistress. Please.”

I kicked off my shoes. “Get up here on the bed then,” I said and helped him to stand up on the bed. I pressed him up against the wall on at the head of the bed and ordered him to squat down, leaning his bound arms against the headboard. He did as I instructed, and I guided his thighs apart, then reached down into my duffle and withdrew two more lengths of rope. I bound him into that squat, tying his thighs and calves to each other, and then tied him, spread as wide as possible, to the headboard.  His hips jutted out toward me and his cock throbbed and jerked, reminding me that my work was not yet done.  I jiggled the chain that connected the nipple clamps to each other, and then removed the clamps, freeing his poor nubs from their confinement. I slipped the chain back into my dufflebag and withdrew a long pink ribbon, wide and satiny. I wound the ribbon around the shaft of his cock, then tied the long leading ends around his waist, pressing his cock hard against his belly.

“I like my cocks presented to me like gifts, tied up in ribbons and bows,” I told him.

“Yes, Mistress.”

I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his nipples, teasing, licking, biting. He gasped and writhed there, up against the headboard, but such was his confinement that he had very little room to move. I pulled some lube from my bag and used it to massage him from balls to anus, being very careful to spread lube liberally around the tiny opening.

I wiped my hands off and stepped off the bed and undressed for him, very slowly, letting him watch me remove my little black dress to reveal the lace corset and stockings underneath. I pulled the strap-on from my duffle and belted it on, pulled a bit of black cloth from it as well, and then stepped up into the bed and walked toward him, my long black cock wagging obscenely at him.

“Do you trust me, boy?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Do you consent to what comes next?”

“Yes Mistress. I trust you.”

“Very good, boy. I am going to blindfold you now, so that you cannot see what is coming next, you can only hear it and feel it, lost in the darkness and your bonds.”

“Oh yes Mistress,” he moaned for me.

I blindfolded him, then pulled his head back hard and kissed him. My tongue delved into his mouth, tasting his sweetness. He moaned and huffed and pumped his tongue against mine. I sucked his tongue into my mouth, sucked it and teased it, then released it and sucked his bottom lip, scraping it with my teeth. After I had plundered his mouth thoroughly, I forced his head back and tied the blindfold to the headboard, forcing him to keep that position. Then I stood over him and told him that I was going to take him, that I was going to own his ass, and that my cock needed lubricating.  He moaned, and I pressed the head of my strap-on to his lips and he opened them. I told him to suck it good, to coat it with saliva, and when he didn’t coat it as well as I wanted I leaned into him, forcing the cock against the back of his throat, making him gag, making his eyes tear up and his mouth fill with water. I pulled back and my cock was shiny with his saliva.

“Good boy,” I said, and patted him, then kneeled between his spread thighs.

“You are helpless, boy. Blindfolded, naked, and bound. I am going to take you with this,” I said, sliding the head of my strap-on along his perineum. “Do you consent?”

His gasped, “Yes Mistress,” was music to my ears.

I pulled his ass forward, further tilting his hips, and pressed the head of my cock to the tiny opening there. “When the head pops through, I want you to wiggle your ass. IF you wiggle your ass, it will hurt less,” I instructed him.

And then I pushed. A long, slow, hard push that eased the cock into him. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my hands into the muscles of his ass and I pressed deeply into him, opening him up. He moaned and writhed and wriggled and gasped as I fucked his ass.

“Pretty boy, with your cock tied up in ribbons, I want you to cum for me,” I said, when it was apparent that he was reaching the end of his endurance. I slid my fingers over the head of his cock, teasing it.

“I am going to count from 10 to 1, and when I reach one, you will cum. Is that clear?”

“Yes Mistress,” he gasped, and I plunged my stap-on deep into him, angling my hips so I prodded his prostate.

“10. 9. 8…” With each new number a new thrust, long and deep. I had my doubts that he would make it to 1, but he did, and when he came, he came hard, and loud, and thrashed in his bonds. His cum squirted up between us, splattering both our chests.

I pulled out of him, slowly and gently.

“Now you are mine.”

“Yes Mistress,” he uttered weakly, utterly spent, utterly compliant. There was no resistence in him, only softness and subservience. I’d thoroughly subjugated him, owned his ass, and now he was inquestionably mine.

What fun!