Who watches the watchers - part seven

[JackJonesHull]

Her touch upon his calf reignited the inferno he had thought complete. The soft stroke of her hands against his skin as she unwove the rope holding his left leg stirred the ashes within to a flicker then a roaring fire. Quickly he moved his free right hand to shield the re-hardening the closeness had caused, the padlock key still in his grip unused.

The hurried movement couldn't go unnoticed. She smiled to herself as, like a very selective medusa, she had turned part of him to stone. Gently her fingertips continued to release the ropes about him, now allowing movement to his right leg as she sensed him try to change his posture slightly to better hide himself.

This was *** of the most incredible kind. He was held hostage to her delightful ministrations by both the response of his uncontrollable body and the slightly nutty smelling natural looking rope holding him there. He felt the dull ache growing with the heat of her. Surely the dancing glancing fingertips upon his calves and now lower thighs was intentional. He closed his eyes to endeavour to transport himself to a situation less stimulating.

She could barely help herself. The extremely obvious discomfort he was experiencing due to the fully engorged flesh he was barely obscuring drove her to *** him still further. The jute lengths were untied up to his chest but she persisted in pretending that she could move above his thighs. Drawing nails up his inner thighs softly as if still following the knotwork she had already long removed.

It did no good. His body and mind were in the moment and no imposed thought could move them elsewhere. The burn within his inflamed balls became too much and he felt himself jerk once, then once again. In equal part horror and pleasure his eyelids flew apart, though still full of the dopamine release worried to her reaction.

Although she had been building him up, driving his body to where she wanted it, the sudden eruption still surprised her. The hot rain of semen catching her right shoulder slightly as she jumped. She could smell him on her now, as if the whole room had taken on a sweet bleach odour. Above all else she was filled with a sense of accomplishment, accomplishment and joy.

Her right hand was stroking her own hair. There was a vague smile upon her lips and a predatory sparkle in her eyes. He could see small dots of cum glistening on her shoulder, catching what light there was and adding a slightly ethereal look to her if that was possible.

"Oh Mr Burglar, you could have someone's eye out with that. You should have warned me!' her voice deepened in a soft laugh. "You caught my hair and for that I require recompense!"

She reached to his right hand and took the key from between the fingers which held it. Reaching across she deftly unlocked the padlock and so the leather cuff holding his left arm to the chair.

He exercised proper feeling back into the released limb and, using both hands for support, pushed down on the chair arms and slowly rose. The ropes about the chair back sliding up past the wood while still encircling him in their web. This was the time, if there was one, to grab his clothes and run. But he did not. She had him and he fully surrendered himself to the notion.

She looked at him effectively unrestrained and remaining through self will and felt a sense of ownership, of attainment, of sudden desire. Lifting her hands she playfully pulled upon the rope which still held him like a harness. Stepping slowly back she pulled him with her.


To be continued (if so desired).