JackJonesHull Posted Thursday at 02:09 PM His eyes fluttered and opened. The sudden light met his gaze causing him to blank repeatedly. Focus didn't come immediately, neither to his eyes or thoughts. But recollection struck him like the rubber cosh already had. His mouth went dry as realisation settled hard. He tried to suck oxygen in to drive his thoughts but a gag prevented him. Breathing hard through his nose he explored the ball gag strapped securely there. "Good evening Mr Burglar!" Her soft voice broke the silence "you are caught." He focused on the warm timbre of her s***ch, then upon the visage from whence it came. Wavy shoulder length red chestnut tresses framed her face. The lips showing a confident smile beneath green eyes filled with playfulness. But for being tied naked to a chair this could be almost enjoyable. But the ropes held him almost immobile, only his head was free to move. He had trespassed in an effort to see her and, clearly, his transgression was to be punished. She felt the flutter within of absolute control. It was joyful and set her free. Certain that her face communicated that she allowed it to surface. Of course her happiness should be shared. Slowly she uncoiled, snake like, from the sofa, keeping the robe she wore tied close about her. With a sprinkling of steps she was behind the chair on which he resided. "Oh Mr Trespasser, little voyeur, sneak thief what should we do now?" The question was breathed into his right ear. Despite his trepidation the hot feeling of her close caused a reaction. She saw his softness stir and harden a little. "Dirty little ***ping tom!" She followed into his left ear. And more he unwillingly rose. Amused and entertained by how easily the mans body responded, how simple it was to steal his will even with ***, she trailed a fingertip across his shoulders as she completed her orbit around him. She couldn't miss his manhood rise more, although still not fully so, and rock before him as he breathed. Now stood before him she could see a confusion in his eyes, more so when she leaned behind her and stood with a ***some stilleto blade in her grasp. His breathing rate rose, his heart played a rising beat. Was he to die here, naked and restrained? All other thoughts fled from his head. "Oh dear, Mr Scopophiliac, do you not like knives?" The words laughed from her tongue. "Do they not excite you?" She slid the, obviously, very sharp point behind the rope about his right wrist and cut it free. From the shoulder he was released. He immediately reached for the left arm only to discover that it was not rope that held him there, no knots to untie, but a leather cuff padlocked closed about him. The knife returned to the coffee table and she turned to face him. The robe no longer tied, held closed instead by her crossed arms. A school governess look about her face, even if much amused. Her arms uncrossed and the fabric hung straight revealing what lay beneath. Black lace did not, as such, cover her decency but, instead, emphasised her indecency, for that was her intent. Revealing what she desired to reveal and teasing what she wished to save. Another flutter of power as she saw him harden again. His whole body seemed to stiffen for a moment. "Your hand is not for your freedom but for your release. Do as I desire and I shall consider it!" She advised. "Take yourself in hand and you may leave her no worse off!" He sat there at a loss, not understanding her meaning. Confused by the day, not recovered from the blow to the head, misdirected by her lingerie and his imprisonment. She took his wrist and placed his hand about the bone hard member emanating from between his upper logs. "Oh poor thing, I want you to masterbate, participate in Autoeroticism, self-stimulation, and onanism. To put it plainly Jack off, jerk off, or wank." She chuckled ... To be continued (if so desired).
Slavematthew Posted Thursday at 11:48 PM This has potential. I want to find out where this is going . . .
JackJonesHull Posted 9 hours ago Author Friday at 12:48 AM, Slavematthew said: This has potential. I want to find out where this is going . . . I can only hope my scribbles continue to interest.
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