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Our Game

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Our Game.

Part One.

Author’s note: Many thanks to WiCk3D for the editing assistance and valuable input.


Rushing home you are squirming in your seat all the way, the anticipation building the closer to home you get, the moisture in your panties building also and any concern for stains on your skirt long forgotten as your mind is focused. Pulling into your garage and looking at the inner door, wondering if he will be here already, will he be waiting for you or is your frustration going to continue? Tentatively pushing the handle down a flutter of glee resonates through you ending in your panties “The unlocked door means he is here.” With your heart pounding you step inside eyes flitting around the room in search of him but without success. The door swings closed behind you as normal but the click of the lock is unusual, before you can turn to investigate hands grip your upper arms keeping you from turning.

Before your brain has time to work out what is happening you feel warm breath at your ear “Stay!” the simple instruction sending yet another shiver through you allowing the mystery person time to wrap a silk blindfold over your eyes. The darkness consumes you and your other senses prick in response. Fingertips rest on the shoulder of your blouse then start to move in small circles over your shoulders, to your neck and back, the softest of massages following the line of your spine down to the waistband of your skirt, the finger tips now circle around your body following the fabric edge like a map. Unconsciously you lift your arms slightly to allow the strange fingers to circle you and meet at your front, finding the buttons on your blouse, each of which are gently popped open, one at a time allowing the colder air to your skin. You can feel the last of the buttons at the top of your blouse eased through it’s little slot and the shirt falls open. Again the warm air of his speech wafts over your ear as you feel him looking over your shoulder “Mmm, you look delicious from here, but you already know that, seeing this view daily.” There is a pause and the room goes silent except for your shallow breaths, in your darkness it feels like it lasts for hours.

“Delicious indeed, I can’t wait to taste all of you.” the emphasis clear in the simple statement whispered across your ear before the wet warmth of his lips rest against your collar bone, his fingers at your blouse rest against your flesh, the heat from them burning but having released the top button they now follow the curve of each breast until they find your bra. You wish it were a front clasp, but his fingers care little as they tear through the lacy trim once cupping your breasts. The ruined lace of your once favourite lingerie hanging aside and forgotten now, his hands cup your breasts and his lips meet your ear to whisper “You are mine.” as his fingers find your nipples already stiffened but now pulled taught. His hands spread over the soft warm naked swell of your breasts and pull you backwards until his hardness rests between the cheeks of your arse.

“A perfect fit.” he breathes across your ear as you feel his hardness flex against you and the deep moan that escapes your lips is just as much an uncontrollable reflex as you tensing your buttocks to wrap around him harder. “Seems you agree.” he states, you can sense the smirk on his lips as he says it and you both know any resistance you may have had that was stunned to inaction by his controlling words, is ebbing away. You clench again and relax and clench once more, rotating your hips to rub along his length, your rhythm interrupted as he twists and pulls on your nipples hard enough to get to the brink of painful but immediately released to fall back to be pleasure.

“Soon.” his message emphasised with his hips thrusting in to you, knocking you forward enough that you lose contact with his crotch and are immediately saddened for its departure. As you reach back with your right hand in search of his rigid body you feel the blouse that was hanging from your shoulders and framing your exposed breasts slip down your upper arms, falling toward the floor until it stops at your wrists. Your searching hand now pulled to touch your other, the two being bound by the shirt. Unsure with allowing such control of you, you wriggle and stretch trying to break free but his strength is overwhelming and as you feel his teeth graze the hollow of your neck it sends a shiver through you. His teeth now applying pressure against your neck, the pressure builds radiating a tingling across your warm flesh and your struggling reduces, you are sure he will break the skin, pulling your body away but he follows until the pressure is gone and you try to reach up to rub the sore skin only to realise his distraction at your neck allowed your hands to be tied behind your back with little available movement and no hope for escape.

A moment of fear trickled through you, blindfolded and now restrained, how easily illegal bahis you had relinquished control of…of yourself…of your body. Do you even really know it is him? You didn’t get the chance to see who it was, his voice disguised by whispers, his smell though, was it his aftershave you could smell? “Of course it is.” you try to reassure yourself but even you know you are trying to convince yourself, indecision still rests in your thoughts, those thoughts broken now by him turning you around.

“I must be facing him now.” the realisation makes you proud that you are able to keep your bearings even with your vision obscured, the self-pride evaporating at the realisation that you are now topless and in his direct gaze. Leaning forward you try to inhale his aroma to confirm his identity but before your brain can take the millisecond to process what you smell it is interrupted by the shock of cold steel clamping around your left nipple. The lightening bolt fires from one nipple to the next as it too is clamped causing you to groan.

“I see you like my little toys.” his voice so deep you almost feel it rather than hear it. The pain shooting through your body as it gets used to the restraints, the intensity diminishes as the pulses spread throughout you and by the time the energy in your nerves gets to your belly it is just a warm feeling terminating in your aching pussy which you can feel is leaking and slippery on your labia.

The fear continues to pervade your mind, “Is this what I expected, is this what I wanted?” You can’t help but ask yourself. For a fleeting moment your physical situation is forgotten as your mind wanders back to those conversations, “Is this really what I said that night in bed?” his unsatisfied penis softening on his thigh and the tears welling in my eyes as I explained that my conservative upbringing held me back from being the wild sexy beast that he wanted, that I wanted to be, that I knew was inside me but I was afraid to relinquish control so kept it contained.

Your mind whirring “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have control, that I could just let go and someone else had control.” You remember saying that, a wave of shame washing over you as you recall the end of the conversation, “Perhaps this is what I asked for?” You can feel the flush of pink embarrassment cover your chest as you remember the next time the taboo topic was discussed.

“Rape fantasy! Rape bloody fantasy, how dare you?” You screamed “And how dare you talk to the guys at work about us, about this!” Horrified, you had slammed the door and stormed off to curl up on your bed. “How could he have discussed this with other people, it was about as personal as it gets and he shared, how am I supposed to go back to work and face those people knowing they knew such intimate details about my inner workings.”

Your moment of self reflection and self pity brought to an abrupt end as the pain shooting from your nipples again subsided to a wet pleasure between your thighs.

The warmth permeating through your panties is distracting, the steel clamps focusing your mind back to the here and now. Back in reality, your senses strike back up and you can feel warm air on your flushed chest, “It must be his breathing…” your thought confirmed as you feel his lips, soft and warm against the pink skin on the slope of your chest, his lips rising and falling in time with your heaving breast as you struggle to control your breathing. A trail of kisses left on your skin, his saliva shiny and just detectable without your eyes by the cooling effect it has, you are able to follow his path in your mind picturing his lips touching every inch of skin in the valley of your cleavage, the warmth of his lips as they touch you is soothing, radiating from the contact point to the farthest reaches of your nervous system and as you relax in the moment of tenderness you are suddenly shocked by cold again. This time it is a fleeting moment the cold running across your chest and between the nipples that have by this time become accustomed to the chill of the steel clamped to them.

As his lips touch your flesh in their next step down your body the flash of cold strikes again, and once more with the next kiss, you brace for the next and as his lips find their target the cold presses against you longer this time, held against you as it is trapped between those lips that had been giving such pleasure. His kiss withdrawn and reapplied, this time back to the same spot, its destination clearly reached, the cold resting against your chest and as he presses his lips harder you feel your nipples simultaneously tugged. The blindness forcing your other senses to work overtime, your brain focused on the sensations until you realise “A chain…oh my god, he’s got a chain attached to my niiiiiiippppppplllllleeeesssss.” Your last thought screamed in your head as the chain is pulled and your deduction confirmed with the dual jolts of fire burning the nerves bunched illegal bahis siteleri in the tips of your breasts. The silent scream replaced with an audible sigh as the pressure is released, the chain left to swing causing a gentle rhythmic tug on each nipple.

The pain of your nipples being pulled so hard by the clamps and the chain is replaced by a warmth flooding your breasts as the tension is relaxed and your soft mounds return to their normal shape. The weight of the chain is easily detected now that you know it is there, the subtle but constant downward pull on your nipples keeping the skin of your breasts taught, you hold your breath waiting for the next assault, a tug on the chain, stretching of your sensitive nipples, but your anticipation was misplaced, the next attack on your body is much lower than your swinging mammaries.

The weight of his fingers are on you, you feel him through the pencil skirt that has been hugging your bum and thighs all day. His fingers roam each leg, from seam to seam across the front of your tensed thighs, “Why did I wear such a short skirt?” chastising yourself knowing that the skirt extends no further than two inches below the crease at your thigh and the start of the curve of your bottom. “To feel sexy of course!” Answering your question you think about the number of long stares you got from the guys at work today, the number of unwanted visitors to your desk with innocuous intentions but rarely a legitimate reason too be there. Like teenage schoolboys, sitting and angling themselves to try to see further up the shadowy apex between your smooth thighs. You knew when you dressed this morning that the skirt would turn heads, viewing yourself in the dressing room mirror and thinking “Just the right balance of sexy and slutty.” of the borderline workplace appropriate attire.

The fabric pulled tight across your legs so his hands can only feel the curve of your inner thigh if he applies pressure, as he pushes you a little you widen your stance to gain some balance only to realise in doing so you have caused the skirt to ride up another inch exposing more of your smooth soft thighs. The embarrassment of your further exposure is intensified as you feel the cool air chilling the trickle of juice that escaped your panties and down your inner thigh, “Oh god no, I hope he cannot see that.” A flush of shame creeps across your face as you think, “Ugh, or smell it!”, “He’ll know what a slut I am, wet all day wondering if today would be the day for our little game.”

Your mind wandering “The idiot guys at work may have called it a rape fantasy when he discussed it with them, but that was not what we had talked about, a little change is what we had said, something different to add a spark…not that there was anything wrong with our sex life, it was fine. Yes, fine, not amazing, not mind blowing but fine, and letting my lover take charge might be enough to let me release my inhibitions. We agreed last weekend to try something different soon and after a whole week of anticipation I knew it had to happen soon, we agreed the timing would be a surprise to make it realistic.”

Your meandering thoughts brought back to your current predicament by the sensation of a tongue sliding up your inner thigh, lapping up the rivulet of pussy juice, “Mmm, I knew you would taste so sweet, I wasn’t expecting you to be such a naughty slut soaking your panties all day.” The shame making you hang your head, now he knows how naughty your thoughts were throughout the day, keeping your pussy dripping and burning consistently. “No wonder you were so popular all day, smelling like this.”

His comment makes you immediately fear that it is true, “Oh no, they couldn’t could they, oh god I hope they couldn’t smell my sex all day, how could I look them in the eye ever again?” Your thoughts speed through your brain, “Do they know what are slut I am too?” Imagining having to change jobs, being too embarrassed knowing what your colleagues think of you, “Are they right, am I a slut? I must be because feeling my skirt edging upwards is making me even wetter!”

Realising you had been lost in your thoughts long enough for him to slip his fingers beneath the hem of your impossibly short skirt and leaving a burning trail up the outside of each thigh as his skin touches yours, your skirt is now bunched around your waist. Reversing their path now downward, his digits hook in to the elasticated lace edge of your panties taking them down your thighs, you fight the urge to close your legs to stop his progress “He’s going to see how wet I am!” and your mind is focused on where the panties are on their path, how much of you is exposed to him.

Your labia throb as you feel you are almost completely exposed now, the panties pulled to mid thigh but the gusset remains in place, your sticky juices holding the lace in place and the last protection of your modesty is broken as you sense the adhesion no longer strong canlı bahis siteleri enough, you would be horrified if you had seen the strings of juices that grew between your swollen pussy and the soaked panties. He eases your panties to your ankles, you feel them resting on your feet and you know you would normally lift your 4 inch heels out one at a time and flick the garment away but being bound and blindfolded you fear you have no way to keep yourself from falling and so stand still.


“Was that the fake shutter sound of a phone’s camera?” Your ears strain to hear every sound, searching for confirmation, hoping against hope that it was not that sound and you were mistaken.


The repeated sound is confirmation of your fears and you picture in your mind what such a photo would look like, standing in the darkened kitchen of your home, illuminated by the orange low of the street light coming through the large windows, the lilac lace of your thong draped over the shiny black patent leather of your shoes. The 4 inch stiletto heels raising you and causing your calves to tense, their firm curves lead the eye up to your thighs.

Where once he was able to see and taste a single trickle of moisture on your right thigh you know he can see the glistening at the top of both legs, your pussy has been on fire all day so it is not surprising your are in such a state. Your out of body observation continues, the view afforded by your stance with slightly parted feet is one that brings a mix of pride and shame, your labia swollen with desire, shiny with your excretions, topped by a small patch of neatly trimmed hair. The disheveled appearance exacerbated by the skirt bunched around your hips, your tummy that you work so hard to keep flat leads up to your breasts, pert and proud and thrust forward hiding the slightest sag that you know from the mirror each morning is there, presented in such a way due to your arms being pulled behind you, the tatters of the bra, a match to the lilac panties around your feet, hang loosely either side of you tangled in the blouse that restrains your arms

This position causes your neck to be stretched, the skin taught and so desirable that the lips of your lover often seek it out when not kissing your lips, the plump lips that you know are slightly parted, shinning with the plumb lipstick you applied this morning and reapplied multiple times throughout the day to make sure you were ready for this when it happened. The colour selected to compliment the lilac lingerie, when you dressed it looked spectacular, you looked spectacular, and you know that this lipstick along with the short skirt and loose blouse had kept the guys at work attentive to your every move all day. You can only imagine what the blindfold looks like your eyes closed in fear as it was applied, the image in your brain of what the pictures taken will show is finished with what you assume to be a mess of hair partly trapped by the silk covering your eyes and tied behind your head.


One more picture, you start to turn to shield your exposure from his lens “Stay!”, again that one word said which firmness but not aggression, taking total control over you.

Resuming your proud stance you again examine the word, the tone, the inflection, “Is it him?” You question, not being immediately certain worries you, “It must be him, he’s the only one that knows about our planned fun.” You let yourself relax, you know he likes your body, even though your sex life is just fine, and this fun time is to ramp it up a little, you know he finds you sexy, you felt his rock hard cock against your arse just a few minutes ago, bigger and harder than you’ve felt him for some time. This was a great idea, judging by his size he is turned on more than usual and you have been dripping all day.

You sense him next to you, glad that he is not taking any more pictures, you know you would look hot in them but you have your rule of no pictures shared, just in case they ever end up on the internet, that would be so embarrassing “Imagine if the people at work were to see those pictures!” The shame you initially felt over the thought replaced by a pulse of desire between your thighs shocking you. “No, he knows.” ignoring the reaction of your body, confident he will keep the two pictures to himself, maybe after this you can get him to delete them.


“Oh no, more pictures, close ups this time!” You can imagine he is taking a close up of your protruding nipple, maybe the cleavage he said looked delicious but your query answered as you feel the lips of your pussy being pushed open as he slides something hard along your slit. It is not hot so probably not his hard member, too big to be a finger, what is it that he is moving through your lips gathering your juices as lubricant until the motion stops and the pressure builds opening you up until your body accepts the invader. You can feel it inside you and know it has to be a vibrator, his pause as you adjust to the intrusion is welcome but he then pushes again and rather than feeling it penetrate deeper as you expected, you sense it curving up inside you whilst also resting against the skin above your pussy outside.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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