Just Five Minutes, Tops free porn video

I kissed her, long, soft, and felt her melt a little.
Best Italian restaurant in town and a few martini’s
afterward and she was just about as horny as I was. But
still, the little matter of getting it all started,
getting the ball rolling, getting the boat away from
port. The handcuffs.

I dangled the pair in front of her eyes again and felt
her body stiffen. Yeah, she was turned on, but the cold
gleam and harsh reality of steel was maybe not what she
thought would do the trick. I knew she considered
herself a little experimental, but in her mind, a blow-
job in a backseat of the bar parking lot was the limit.
This would be pushing the envelope.

“I don’t know…” Her face scrunched up and I knew it
was for my benefit. She was trying to divert to
something more familiar. Something safe. Oh, she
definitely was curious. But the cuffs scared her. As
well they should. In the hands of the wrong person,
such instruments could very well be a huge set-back to
personal freedom. They spoke so much, those little
circlets of steel. Once the final ratchet clicked they
weren’t coming off without the key.

I grinned. “I’ll even give you the key.” I showed her
the little key chain and the bronze colored key that
dangled from it. As I clicked the cuffs shut and worked
the key in the little slot on one of them, she watched
with doe eyed fascination.

With a quick twist, I popped the cuff open and she
shuddered. Whether that was for me or real I couldn’t
tell. It sure was pretty fucking sexy. “See, nothing to
it. I’ll give you the keys and if you get a little
frightened you can just take them off yourself.”

She tentatively reached out and took the handcuffs. I
could see her eyes widen even more when she held the
full weight of the bracelets. Oh yes, these were the
real thing – not the plastic toys they sold at
Spencers. She moved one of the folding circles back and
forth and finally clicked it home. Using the key she
opened it back up.

“I don’t know,” she murmured and, God, I almost lost it
with those three words. So innocent. So uncertain. So
sexy.

I kissed her full lips again until she returned it.
Pulling away, I whispered, “It’s all about trust, Teri.
You trust me, don’t you?”

She hesitated just a moment and I could see she was
weighing the month or so that we’d shared sitting next
to each other on barstools, crying our souls out about
how unfair the world was and how shitty our ex-lovers
had been to us against getting locked up and helpless.
But this was our first real date and I could tell she
wanted to show me that she was appreciative of me being
there for her in her hour of need. Yeah, to some extent
she thought she could trust me.

“Ok,” she bit her lip. “But just for five minutes. I’ve
never had anything like this on me before.” She
delicately slipped her left wrist between the circles
of steel and gently clicked the band shut.

God, what a sight. Nothing beats a girl with a set of
handcuffs dangling from her wrist. She began to slip
the other in and I grabber her hand gently.

“No, no, dear. Behind your back.” She stiffened
immediately and I knew it would take another kiss. I
leaned in and gave her the thousand dollar sell. When I
pulled away, we were both breathing pretty hard and
there was a hungry little gleam in her eye.

“Five minutes,” she murmured. I helped her find the
cuff behind her back, directing her wrist to the
waiting ringlet. She fumbled a little, but I wanted to
make sure that she was the one that clicked her fate
shut. Click. Now both her hands were locked behind her.
She still held the little key in the palm of her hand
and I could see she fought the urge to immediately try
to get it in the slot.

I turned her around so she faced me and gave her a
quick up and down. She looked gorgeous with her hands
locked behind her. I gave her a long, deep kiss,
pulling her into me and feeling her breasts against my
chest got me moving. I only had five minutes after all.

I pulled away and reached down under the sofa. She was
too busy experimenting with the feel of having her
hands taken away from her to notice the coil of rope I
brought out.

“This isn’t so bad,” she started to say, as I turned
her back to me, then sucked in her breath sharply as I
pulled her elbows together and quickly looped the rope
around her upper arms. She let out an adorable little
squeak as her arms were pulled tightly back and cinched
tightly together by the rope. By the time she got any
more words out of her mouth, her arms were lost to her
completely.

“What the fuck-” I pushed her down on the sofa face-
first and crawled on top of her immediately. Straddling
her ass, I reached down under the sofa again and pulled
out the fat rubber ball-gag. I could feel her fingers
going to town with the key, trying to get it into the
slot and I grinned. Pulling her head back by her
shoulder length auburn hair, I slid the ball-gag in
between those full, sexy lips and buckled the strap
tight.

She was still fumbling with the little handcuff key and
now shrieking, and I avoided her eyes as I rolled her
over. To look into her eyes now would be like falling
into a well. I would not be able to finish her.

I swung my legs around so now I sat on her tight little
belly and, taking still more rope from under the sofa –
it was a damn good thing she hadn’t looked under there
before we got started – I caught her flailing legs. Two
coils went around her knees, good and tight, and more
around her ankles, so tight I would have to check her
circulation later. I was a sucker for tight ropes.
Actually, just about everything had to be tight with
me. If it didn’t cut into the flesh, why bother.

Now I could step back and get my first real look at
her. Teri, my date. Ball-gag crammed deep into her
mouth making her cheeks puff out like a chipmunk. Arms
tightly tied behind her forcing her breasts to jut out
lewdly behind her sweater. Legs lashed together oh so
tightly.

I reached down and pulled her to her feet by her
shoulders. She tried to struggle but short of falling
down on her face, a few ineffective twists of her torso
was all she could muster. She was shrieking, of course,
and her soft doe eyes had turned to raging, scared
coals of fire. I turned her around and took the
handcuff key from her fingers. This brought a wail from
behind the gag.

“Now, now, dear, I said five minutes and I’m a man of
my word.” I slid the key into the lock and popped one
band off her wrist. Immediately she started flailing
her free arm around, as best she could with her elbows
tightly tied they way they were. It took a little work
to get the other cuff off, but when it finally popped
free, I dodged her little fists as I made one last trip
under the sofa. She began to cry as I caught first one
wrist then the other and quickly, methodically tied
them together.

That was that. I reached around form the back and felt
her breasts for the first time. Sure, if I had played
my cards right, I would have undoubtedly gotten a feel
of those nice jugs anyway, with her curvy and naked
beside me upstairs under the sheets, maybe a bottle of
Chianti mostly drained, candles on the nightstand,
maybe a little incense going from the hallway.

Sure, that would have been fun, kind of romantic
actually. We would whisper in each other’s ears, I
would start the kissing and eventually, I would roll
over on to her and we would make wild, passionate love.
Then maybe snooze a little, and she would maybe start
the second round, somewhere in the dark of the night,
and this time it would be animal, not that romantic
crap. Just pure animal.

Later, at breakfast over pancakes and bacon, she would
blush and apologize for being so uncharacteristically
rough. I would pat her on the ass through my bathrobe,
which she was wearing and maybe reach out and cup a
breast, to get things started again.

I squeezed the flesh between my fingers hard and
watched her eyes narrow to two little slits. Well, time
to get moving. Bending over at the waist, I lifted her
up over my shoulder and made my way to the basement.
There were many things to torment my girl with down
there. As well as the cage that she would have to get
used to.

Part II

“OK, hon, now’s your chance to vent a little – which
I’m sure you’ll take the opportunity to do – but more
importantly, this is one of the few times I’ll give
that sexy little tongue of yours free reign.”

I rolled the leather strap of Teri’s ballgag through
the buckle at the nape of her neck, and caught the
alluring smell of her perfume and sweat. Before I
released the tension on the straps that had made her
cheeks puff out so sweetly, I closed my eyes and kissed
the fuzzy back of her neck and thought of the things I
would do with my girl.

Standing back from where she slumped in the hard wooden
chair in the center of the soundproofed playroom in my
basement, I pulled the big ballgag from her lips and
unleashed hell.

“You fucking bastard! Fucking monster! Asshole!”

Lovely words from a thoroughly tied and helpless female
and the shrieking pitch was music to my ears. I turned
my back on her and reached for the humidor. From the
creaking of the chair, I could tell that she was
working herself up pretty good.

“Monster is a little harsh,” I said, pulling out a
Fuente Black Ribbon.

“Particular tastes are what I call this room.”

I turned back around and the sight of her almost
dropped me. Ankles and knees tied tightly – one of her
high heels had apparently not made the trip downstairs.
Tight skirt hiked a ways up her toned and straining
thighs. Breasts bulging against a sweater pulled tight
from elbows and wrists tied together behind her back.
Curls of her auburn hair fell about her shoulders, her
bangs plastered to her forehead from the sweat of
struggling and probably a bit from fear. And those
eyes, hot coals of fire. And around her, behind her,
the tables littered with gadgets of all types, toys
made to restrain and hurt and torment. A few rings were
bolted to the ceiling beams from which chains hung.

In the corner was a three foot square cage, much like
you would find in a dog kennel and sure enough, there
was a dog bowl laying inside. In another corner was a
bed, very comfortable looking in spite of the leather
shackles anchored to the four corners. Every wall was
soundproofed – I tended to like the live moans and
cries better than the gurgles from behind a gag.
Unquestionably – a lady was sexiest with her lips
suckling a big old ballgag. But they just said the
darndest things if you let them. And in the center,
tied into a warm parcel of female, was Teri on the
questioner’s chair.

With steady fingers, I lit the end of the cigar.

“I trusted you, you sick fuck!” Her voice rose to an
almost hysterical pitch. “And look what you did to me!”
A strand of hair fell across her face, hiding those
wonderful eyes momentarily. “What do you want from me?”

I blew smoke up at the ceiling. “That’s a loaded
question, hon. On a purely physical level, seeing you
tied up like that turns me on like hell. I’m not sure
why, spent a few years questioning it, then just gave
in and decided it was one of my fetishes. Nothing
personal, it’s just that, to me, chicks are sexiest
when they’re tied.”

I had her attention – her struggles stopped and she was
looking at me through the auburn strand of hair. “As
for the other part, the cerebral part, that goes a
little deeper. Remember a few weeks back when we were
talking about the crazy things that we did as kids?
Remember? At Harpo’s, sucking down, what was it that
night? Jack and cokes! That’s it. And you told me a
story about cowboys and Indians and not wanting to be
rescued and being tied to a tree for hours -”

She got the strand of hair out of her eyes. “You
asshole! That’s different. I was a fucking kid!”

I pulled up a chair and swung it around so I could sit
on it backwards. The smoke from my cigar curled lazily
around her head – she’d said before that she loved the
smell of a good cigar. I smiled at her patiently.
“First of all, you can tone down the sailor tongue –
such language isn’t becoming a lady.”

“Fuck you.”

Still smiling, I reached out and found her nipple,
which was hard even beneath the sweater and bra and
gave it a good squeeze.

“Oww, you bast-”

I squeezed harder and her words trailed off into a thin
moan. My hand slid down and cupped her breast, my thumb
rubbing the wounded nipple. “Second, you’ll find that
if you did a little more listening and thinking that
things would go better for you and you may learn
something about yourself.” I blew a small smoke ring
above her head and she watched it curl up towards the
ceiling before dropping her eyes to mine. “The deeper
part of all this is harder to explain and involves a
little more honesty with yourself. Close your eyes.
Come on, close them.”

I waited while she glared at me – had her hand been
free, I’m sure I would have had the one-finger salute
in my face. I sighed and went to my table, fishing
around until I found the satin blindfold. “You’re
having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that I
can do anything I want with you. Do anything I want TO
you.” I gently slid the blindfold over her eyes.
“Anything,” I whispered in her ear, treating myself to
a slow feel of her breasts.

Still whispering in her ear, I said, “How often do you
let someone you hardly know rub you this way? The
sacred female breasts – never to be touched, only
looked at, worshipped. And yet, now I can touch -” I
caressed the tender full weight in my hands, “or pinch-
“, I found a nipple with each hand and worked the bud
between my fingers. Her breath caught and I wondered if
her eyes were indeed closed now behind the blindfold.
“Or I can be mean-” I squeezed her mounds hard,
crushing the nipples beneath my palms and digging my
fingers deep into her flesh. She yelped in surprise and
I fought the urge to strip her and fuck her right then.

I pulled back and my lips found hers. At first she
tried to turn away, but I held her chin fast, my tongue
sliding over hers and finding the deep hot recesses of
her mouth. She shuddered against me and I knew that I
hadn’t been wrong, way back when I decided that she
would be right for this. But she still needed some
educating.

I pulled away and stepped behind her, running my
fingers through thick auburn tresses. She flicked her
head, whether to try to break free of my fingers or
because there was a smoldering fire inside her, deep
inside, one that she’d always known about, maybe, but
kept under control. And that was really what this was
about. In one word.

“I control you now, hon,” I whispered softly in her
ear. “Feel the ropes – how tight they hold you the way
I want you to be held.” I nipped at an earlobe and slid
my hands down over her shoulders, past her breasts and
to her skirted hips. “I control what you feel.” I
lightly ran my hands across her pelvis, my fingers
grazing, as best they could over the nylon skirt, the
upper rise of her mound.

“No,” she moaned weakly and tried to shift away from my
hands.

“Yes,” I whispered, biting her neck. “I control your
world, now. I have taken your power to run, to object,
to decide.” I ran my tongue along the nape of her neck,
caressing the red bite marks. “But I also give back
power – my power. Through pleasure-” My hands again
found her hips, and quickly I slid her skirt up and out
of my way. Her panties were soft, warm, and wet, and
when I rubbed a finger along the raised line of her
pussy lips, she arched her back hard into the chair.

“Or pain-” With the hand already at the mouth of her
pussy, I rammed two fingers in, the cotton of her
panties her only means of resistance. With the other
arm, I pinned her chest and found a nipple, squeezing
hard and long. I let her shriek for a time, then
withdrew abruptly, stepping back and admiring the way
her body reacted. She was like a machine with a
dangerously high idle. Her chest pumped air in and out,
her limbs jerked against the ropes, her skin flushed. I
sat down and puffed on the cigar. Reaching across, I
pulled the blindfold off.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, a single tear poised to
race down her cheek.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t want this. Let me go.”

She looked up at me with over-bright eyes, timidly, as
if she were seeing the most beautiful sight on earth
and didn’t know whether she should like it or not. I
patted her face and she nuzzled my hand at first, then
pulled away.

“Yes you do. You want this now more than ever. But it
scares you. And it should.” I got up and went to my
table of toys. The sadistic streak was riding high now.
She was so vulnerable, so open, so pliable. I wanted to
crush her completely. I wanted to make her mine
forever.

“I can gag your pretty lips,” I picked up the penis-gag
harness, “here’s a good one. Look, it even has a hose
threaded through it so it can mimic the male orgasm.” I
gave it a squeeze and a thin line of water squirted
from the tip.

She watched the stream of water with big eyes. I went
back to the table of toys, smoke trailing me like a
lazy cloud. “This is a ring gag,” I said, tossing the
gag towards her where it clanged at her feet. “Good for
getting a blowjob and not loosing anything important.
Lots of spittle, though.”

I picked up a pair of connected nipple clamps. “These
go on your nipples. I can vary the tightness with this
little screw and with the chain connecting them, any
movement translates a little pain to both of your
delicious breasts.” I tossed these at her feet too and
she barely stirred. Her head slowly turned from side to
side in a tiny ‘no’ motion.

“This is a collar, mostly for symbolic purposes, but
this particular one also helps you, the slave, maintain
proper posture. I’ll be fitting you with one of these
soon.”

That tear cut loose from her eye and streaked down her
cheek. “This is supposed to be a date,” she whispered.
“I thought I knew you. But I didn’t – you’re crazy. I
was planning to spend the weekend with you if things
worked out. Instead …” She was on the verge of
breaking down completely.

I came over and stood behind her, rubbing her
shoulders, feeling the effect that the strain from her
tied elbows was having on her. I kissed her neck again
and it was as if an electric current had entered her.
Casually I reached down and picked up the slave collar.
Before she knew it, I had it locked tight around her
neck.

That was it – silent sobs took her. I knelt in front of
her and she tried to kick me away, but her motions were
slow, trance-like and weak. “Now, now, hon, it isn’t so
bad.” I pulled the big ballgag from the floor and
stuffed it far back into her mouth. She took it almost
willingly, her lips going around the big red ball like
they belonged there. “I have a proposition. Using all
these sick toys you see here, I will make you come in
five minutes. If I can’t, you walk out of here whenever
you want. Haul my ass away for kidnapping and rape, if
you want. If you do come however, you stay the weekend.
On my terms.”

She looked down at me with those big doe eyes and I
could tell she was on overdrive. Stimulus overload.
“Now I know I stretched the truth with the handcuffs –
yes, I had them off you in five minutes and look where
you ended up. But from this point on, trust is
something you will have to have in me. You see, I know
more about you than you think. You are one sexy,
complicated girl with a fucked up dark side.”

I counted the fingers on one hand. “One, failed
marriage with a wife-beater. Two, confidence problems.
Three, raped in your teens. Four, out of control wild
streak that gets you into trouble. You’re practically a
clich . But I know different. You’re just restless. You
haven’t found what you’re looking for. It’s a beast
inside you, driving you, pushing you. And you are
afraid to look at it. Afraid to let it out.”

I lowered my voice. “Just like me. We both have a beast
here, deep inside.

Only I know what my beast looks like. I think it’s time
you met yours.”

She sat perfectly still, my lovely lady wrapped in
ropes and gagged like a chipmunk. I leaned close and
whispered in her ear, “You said once, I can’t remember
when exactly, that you wanted a total, complete
mindfuck to wipe away all the shit that’s happened to
you. Welcome to Mindfuck Central.”

I pulled the gag out, and her eyes dropped. “Fuck you,”
she whispered.

Part III

“When the thought of being helpless, even for five
minutes, entered your mind – that was a threshold. You
crossed over,” I whispered, loudly enough so she could
hear through the fall of her auburn hair. She was bent
over almost double, a chain attached to the ropes that
bound her hands behind her back pulled her arms up to
the ceiling.

“When you clicked the second handcuff around your
wrist, locking your hands behind your back and placing
you, your body, your safety, in my care, even for five
minutes, and even though you had the key – that was a
threshold. You crossed over.”

“No”, she moaned, pain from her position giving her
words a delicious edge. Her face was shrouded from me
by her hair, and she hadn’t seen the pair of utility
scissors I had in my hand.

“Now, now, hon. ‘No’ is not a word in your vocabulary
anymore.” I’d pulled the gag back out – gag in – gag
out. The stunning visual of her mouth stretched open to
hold the big red ball, the black leather strap puffing
her cheeks, was offset by her words. They say the eyes
are a window to the soul. In my opinion, the mouth was
a window to the mind.

I wanted to feel her accept her submission. I wanted
her reaction – of course, the way her body accepted the
unwanted restraints was as good an indication as any,
with the subtle squirming and testing of the ropes, the
frantic heaving of her breasts, the balance she tried
to maintain with her limbs taken from her. But what she
said, her swearing, her cries, her moans – that was the
voice of her growing submission. Her reluctance to
accept her beast within, and the birth of the slave I
knew she could be.

I took the scissors and deftly slit her thin sweater
from her waist to the mounds of her breasts. “When I
tied you, made you completely helpless and took your
power for my own – your power to resist, your power to
run, your power of freedom – that was a threshold. I
carried you over.” She turned her head, trying to look
at me through the falling hair but it was no good. She
had too much of the auburn tresses to push aside with
just one motion.

Cutting her clothes off her was a tough decision. I
didn’t want her to taste freedom at all, even for a
brief second, at least not this early. In the end, I
decided that she would have no use for them in the near
future and they could be easily replaced.

Besides, feeling the clothes that she had no doubt
spent some time deciding on wearing on this, our first
date, trying to give the right signal, project the
right mood or statement or whatever I had been lead to
believe from the other women I had known – feeling this
skin of choice being cut away and ruined, that was a
reaction I wanted to watch.

“You bastard! You’re destroying my good -”

I reached over and pulled her hair away from her face
and was met with a fiery glare. Her cheeks were flushed
from the slightly upside down position and the posture
collar wasn’t giving her much room to move her head. I
tucked the strand of hair behind her ear and kissed
her.

She spasmed in her ropes as she fought to get away from
me and the moan that followed as she relaxed and let me
kiss her, let my tongue bury itself in her mouth
without her returning the kiss told me that she was
beginning to realize that there was nothing she could
do but accept this. But I wanted more. I wanted her to
embrace this.

I slid the scissors higher up as I pulled away from her
lips, her hair once again hiding her angry and
frightened eyes. “You’re at another threshold, hon. And
this is a big one. I can help you to some degree – in
fact, you may say that I’m dragging you along. But this
threshold you have to cross on your own.”

The front of her sweater fell away revealing the black
lacy bra holding her breasts. A few snips along her
arms up to her bound elbows and the sweater was no
more. “There’s something waiting for you on the other
side of this next threshold. Something I know you know
is there.”

I snipped the thin ribbon of lace between her breasts
and the bra fell away – I could have unhooked it, but
what the hell, I had already started cutting. Two more
snips and I tossed the remainder of the lace bra into
the corner. Her breasts now hung, firm and full, her
hair brushing the upper rise of flesh.

“Fuck you,” she whispered. It was, apparently, one of
her favorite phrases.

I reached down and found both nipples hard. “That
something behind this threshold has a life of its own.”
I squeezed each nipple firmly, rolling the hard nubs
between my fingers and, hearing her gasp, I went on.
“You keep it deep inside, under control, but it rules
you in ways you don’t realize. The relationships you
seek out. The thoughts that come at you, seemingly from
nowhere.

The images that sneak into your mind in the dark hours
of night, filling you with a dark, rich lust. A lust of
ropes, of whips, of collars. And before you realize it,
you’re squeezing your own nipples through your nightie
like this -” I squeezed her flesh hard and she
screamed. I leaned close into her ear and whispered,
“All you want is to be tied, teased, hurt and loved.
And you fight it.”

I let her go and stepped back. The soundproofed walls
absorbed the last of her scream and the silence that
followed was punctuated by her gentle sobs. I pulled
her shiny pvc skirt down to her ankles and cut away her
panties. Kneeling before her, looking up at the tear
stained face in the center of the shroud of hair I
found her eyes. “I’m right. Aren’t I?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head ‘no’ once. Then
a sob overtook her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

I kissed her again and this time she responded. A bound
female, naked and helpless, bent in two by my ropes,
kissing me with a hunger that surprised even her. I got
up and went to my toy table.

“I’m not ready for this. Not now.” Her voice had a nice
pleading sound to it. I found the thin rope and a few
small clamps. “You were right. Maybe we could talk
about this. Please? This isn’t fun.”

I stooped in front of her and caressed a breast. “I
don’t think we’re talking about fun here. At least not
for you. I’m enjoying myself immensely.” I looped a
coil of the thin rope around her breast, pulling the
base of her mound tightly in a circle. Quickly, I roped
the breast with tighter and tighter coils until her
flesh was pulled taught and the shape was nicely
ballooned. Immediately the orb started to turn a darker
shade.

“No, wait.”

I glanced up and fixed her eyes, while finding the
somewhat flattened nipple of her bound breast. “You’re
along for the ride, hon. And too many objections gets a
gag.” I squeezed the nipple once, getting the moan I
wanted and set about tying her other breast. She
watched in silent fascination, probably never realizing
that a breast could be tied, and once tied, that it
would get both larger and more sensitive. “And there is
the matter of stimulation. Some you will no doubt find
quite pleasant.”

I snaked a finger up into her pussy, finding it moist,
and stroked her clit. She shuddered and her hips
pressed against my hand. With the other hand, I found a
nipple and clamped it with one of the clamps. Her
scream tapered off into a startled moan as I drove
three fingers deep into her pussy. Finding a rhythm
that her hips matched, I fucked her with my fingers and
clamped the other nipple.

Even with her legs tightly tied together, she was so
wet I had no trouble pistoning my fingers, now four,
deep into her pussy. With each thrust, my thumb found
the increasingly engorged button of her clit. She began
to sway.

I glanced up and the image of her tightly closed eyes,
the shiny tear streaked cheeks, the tangle of hair
about her face and below that, the tightly tied and
clamped orbs that were her breasts – all this brought
me down the home stretch. I slowed my fingers in their
invasion of her pussy, taking more time to flick her
clit. My other hand pulled a nipple clamp – first one
then the other – until her breasts were almost bobbing
back and forth, the tiny pincher’s twisting and pulling
inflaming her flesh even more.

She began to shudder and I went for the knock down
blow. First loosening her knee ropes, I buried my face
in her pussy, both hands pushing her thighs apart. My
tongue found her engorged pussy lips and dove inside.
She tasted wonderful and within seconds her hips were
thrusting into my face out of control.

Finding her clit, I bit down, hard and she shrieked,
her legs almost buckling. If my arms hadn’t found her
ass at the last second to hold her up, she probably
would have torn her shoulders out of their sockets. I
felt her body shudder violently as a wave of pleasure
rolled through her. I bit again and her breath caught,
her body stiffening. The second orgasm slammed into her
on the heels of the first. My mouth was filled with her
taste and I almost came right then.

But the night was young. I would have time for that
later. Cradling her torso with one hand, I reached
around and unclipped the chain holding her arms in the
strappado. She slumped against me, her breath hot on my
neck and we both slid to the floor. Her head rested
against my shoulder, her tied legs curled up tightly
against my crotch. I fondled a bound breast, twisting
the clamp on her nipple. “You know, you lost.”

She stirred, trying to look up at me. I twisted the
clamp even more and she moaned. “That was less that
five minutes.” I held her head against my chest and
abruptly unclamped the nipple, her shriek muffled by my
shirt. “And under the terms of the bet, which I believe
you agreed to, albeit under forced conditions, you must
spend the rest of the weekend with me, accepting every
wish as a command.”

I fondled the other clamp and she tried to pull her
legs up tighter to her chest. Her hands, useless behind
her back, grasped my thigh tightly in preparation for
the pain that was sure to come. “Now, Teri, I am going
to give you one last chance, in spite of the bet you
lost. You can walk away from here right now. Walk away
with no strings attached except for one. I will never
see you again.” I pulled the clamp while at the same
time, I found the mound of her pussy. She shrank
against me, torn between the pain in her tit and the
fire in her puss. “And you will have to find that beast
inside you on your own. Without me.”

I let the clamp go and withdrew my finger. Turning her
around so she could look into my eyes, I sized her up.
A beautiful girl, arms lost behind her, legs tied and
pulled up under her, both breasts bound to a cherry
pink, a clamp dangling from one nipple. And she looked
at me with a mixture of lust and uncertainty. She knew
what she was, what she feared, what she wanted. It was
the threshold that frightened her.

But it was a threshold she would have to cross on her
own. She looked down, at her breasts, then all about
her, as much as the collar would allow, at the table of
toys, the chains and cage. And then at the pile of her
clothes in the corner, familiar and yet altered by
their shreds. Then she looked at me and I saw into her
soul.

“I trusted you once. Can I trust you now?”

I ran a finger down her cheek over the drying tears, to
her lips, so full.

“Any slave of mine will have no fear that they are safe
and loved.”

She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving mine. Then she
smiled, the devil dancing in her face. “Fuck you.
Master. And that was way more than five minutes.”