The evening's preparations were nothing extravagant. Dinner at a quiet restaurant and going to the hotel was the most expensive elements of the night. As they walked into their room, she wondered what he had in the duffel bag he carried. She knew that there was at least a change of clothes for each of them but was sure that with the precision he packed their suitcases for their last trip, he would have fit everything into a backpack with room to spare. At their room, they found the space as dull and uninteresting as any other inexpensive hotel room. The bland impressionistic wall art over the bed was reflected in the wide mirror over the dresser against the opposite wall. A small table with two standard chairs sat near the window overlooking the parking lot.
The wind whipped around the eves of the building and she could have sworn that the room was colder for being at the end of the building. For a Wednesday night, the hotel was quiet and the room to the right was empty, as per the clerk. With the stairwell across the hall, they functionally had no one about them. She was a touch perplexed by his insistence upon this detail but decided it had to be because he didn't want the noise of others to bother him. As he tossed the bag onto the bed with its geometric jewel toned bedspread, she walked over to the mirror. She leaned forward and peered at her reflection, wondering if the lighting was the reason why she looked so worn out.
Her lover turned on the lamp at the table before crossing the room and shutting off the overhead light near the door that turned on when they entered. In that more muted light, she decided that perhaps her eyes didn't look as tired and considered if she should let down her hair or take off her earrings first. The suit she wore was just as bland as the room they were in. When he picked her up at the end of her shift at the call center, she wanted to kick off her heels and massage her sore feet. Instead, she put on a sunny smile and made a determined effort to ignore the discomfort. Now, however, she couldn't just put it aside.
Leaning down to take the first shoe off, she missed his approach. "Leave it," he said. She looked over her shoulder at him and noted that he had taken off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbow. "Do you remember what you asked me about last month?" he asked. She gave him a puzzled look and straightened. In the stress of trying to make quota on her commissions, the raven haired woman had quite forgotten their conversation the last time they had gone out for the night. He reached into his right pocket and pulled out a set of keys. She looked at the keys, confused as to why they were so small.
He set the keys on the top of the dresser beside her purse and stepped up close to her. Compared to the chill of the room, he seemed to be almost feverishly hot as he set a hand against her cheek. She reached up to move his hand aside so that she could take off her earrings when he took hold of her wrist. His grip was hard but that didn't trouble her. The fact that she couldn't just slip her wrist out of his hand thrilled her. It was something of a secret that she confessed to him a short while back. He moved so that he held her wrist before her.
His gaze was solemn and yet filled with anticipation at the same time. Her heart beat triple time. "Think," he said, tightening his grip on her wrist slightly and causing her a brief moment of discomfort. For that moment, all coherent thought had stopped along with her breath. When he relaxed his grip but seconds later, her eyes lit with comprehension. "Are you sure you want to try this?" he said as a blush washed over her face at the thought of her stammered request a few weeks earlier. Torn between embarrassment over the fact that she had asked for him to take 'command' and speechless anticipation, she nodded.
For a moment, she thought nothing more was going to come of it. "If things become too much, say 'red' and everything stops," he said, "If you're getting uneasy and want to slow down, say 'yellow.' Understand?" She swallowed as her mouth had suddenly gone dry at the fact that the thing she had secretly wanted for years was about to become reality. "Do you understand me?" he queried, going very still and looking intently at her. She nodded her head. "I can't hear your brains bobble," he said dryly, "Yes or no?"
"Yes, I understand," she managed to say. He gave a little sigh of relief and a small measure of tension that had been in him dissipated. He let go of her wrist. As she looked at him, utterly unsure as to what was going to happen next, he smiled. It was a wolfish, hungry smile that thrilled her even as it made her suddenly question the wisdom of her decision.
"Everything off but for those stockings and shoes," he said, not bothering to keep the hunger out of his demeanor or voice. Suddenly, she turned shy and dropped her gaze as she fumbled with her suit jacket's buttons. He made a small noise of amusement and her blush deepened and began to spread down her neck and across her chest. "Jewelry and hair pick too," he said, sounding as though he was on the verge of chuckling at her. With trembling hands, she divested herself of her clothes but for her thigh high stockings and struggled with the clasp of her necklace. He stepped up behind her and opened the lobster claw clasp. Slowly, he let the silver chain slide down her chest as he moved his hands forward. She shivered at the sensation and awkwardly caught it when he let go. "I suppose I'll let you keep the earrings," he said with a sigh that sounded like disappointment, "I wouldn't want you to lose one."
She looked at his reflection in a sudden burst of anxiety, concerned that she had some how upset him. The intensity of his reflected gaze made her feel as though she was trapped in some sense. Her breath caught in her throat as a slow, sly smile came over his face. She broke eye contact as she set her necklace down on the top of the dresser beside her purse and the two small keys. She reached up and pulled the hair pick out of her bun when he took hold of her wrist again. With his left hand, he took the hair pick from her fingers and set it on the top of the dresser. Then, he moved her arm so that her hand was behind the small of her back.
Slowly but firmly, he brought her wrist higher and put her into a shoulder lock. As he did so, he watched the look on her face. Her dark eyes had fluttered shut when he guided her hand to her back. Now, they opened in surprise only to roll with pleasure as he gradually applied more force until she began to feel discomfort down from her shoulder. "You like this," he observed. Too blissed out to accomplish anything more, she gave a nod. "Would you like more?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied dreamily. He looked over his shoulder at the duffel bag sitting on the bed.
"What do you say if it becomes too much?" he said in her ear as he returned his attention to his willing victim.
"Red," she sighed. He smiled with approval.
"Good," he said warmly, reaching up with his left hand to brush her hair away from her neck. As she gave a shiver of pleasure he smiled again. "Now, keep those pretty eyes closed," he said in a soft, erotic purr, "And don't move. I have a surprise for you." He let go of her wrist, noting that she continued to hold it behind her back as he stepped away. The sound of the bag being unzippered seemed too loud in the quiet room. He rifled through its contents before lifting out the item he was searching for.
A pair of steel toy handcuffs winked in the light as he turned back to her. Taking her right wrist in hand, he cinched the first cuff down until it was tight but not too tight. Her eyes popped open with surprise. He paused a moment, half expecting her to say red or yellow. When she didn't say anything and just stared at his reflection in shock, he smiled again and fixed her left wrist in the second cuff. She tugged lightly at her bound wrists and stared at him in disbelief. He turned to the duffel bag and lifted his second prop out. A tooled leather collar with three d-rings on it and a sturdy clasp on it made her eyes widen more.
He gave a chuckle at her look of shocked amazement and disbelief. "Don't you worry," he said in a voice that was brimming with amusement, "There's more to come." His voice turned stern and his smile faded some what as that solemn look returned to his eyes. "Your disobedience, however, must be addressed," he said, restraining a triumphant grin at how she shivered deliciously at his words. Maintaining his stern expression, he stepped up behind her and swept her hair aside. He placed the collar about her neck and then reached around to give it a sharp tug on the central d-ring.
Caught off guard by the movement, she stumbled forward and bumped into the dresser. "That has potential," he mused before turning away. She watched him in the mirror as he took out a length of cord. He stepped up behind her and slipped it over the chain linking the cuffs together. Then, he brought the ends up and through the two d-rings at the side of the collar. Bringing the cord down along her back, he began to pull her wrists up towards her shoulders. The collar pressed firmly against her throat from the pressure of her restrained wrists pulling on the cord. Tying the ends over where they had begun, he made a thoughtful noise.
Her head was forced back by the arrangement and the movement arched her back pleasantly. "Not enough," he said. She looked at him, swinging back and forth between confusion and arousal as he took up a longer length of cord. He turned her to face him and slipped the end of the cord through the free d-ring. He gave a pull and smiled as she made a face of discomfort as her wrists were pulled higher. He evened the length of cord and made a series of knots. After the final knot, he wrapped the cord about her chest and crossed it at her back. Bringing it around again beneath her breasts, he noted how her breathing had quickened yet again.
Winding the ends through the small loop left between the final knot and the one above, he proceeded to pull the cord down to her waist. Slowly, he dropped to his knee and pulled the free ends of the cord downward. She made a little cry of surprise, pain, and ecstasy. He reached up with his free hand and caressed her labia. He smiled with approval at how slick she was. A part of him considered rearranging the rope so that it left her sex free but it was a thought that he cast aside, for he had determined to make her frustrated even as he thrilled her. He passed the cord between her legs and then brought it up to fix it firmly where it crossed at her back.
The entire arrangement was done leisurely and he enjoyed the little noises and gasps of pleasure that came from her as he manipulated the cord. Again bound with her head pulled backwards, she swayed on her feet and shuddered with pleasure. Never had she considered this a possibility. All her fantasies were of being held down. This binding, however, lit her afire and she would have squirmed with pleasure if it wasn't for the awkward position she was caught in. He stood and turned her so that she could see her self in the mirror.
Her face was a mask of ecstasy and her eyes were closed with delight. He took hold of her hair and pulled her head farther back. This tightened the cords binding her breasts and wrapped over her sex. Her dark eyes opened with surprise at the sensation and then she saw herself in the mirror. The dark cord was a stark contrast against her pale skin. With his hand snarled in her hair, he turned her head so that she could look more fully. Though the angle was awkward, she could see how she was forced to arch and something of the ropework at the front of her. The sight made her knees weaken.
"Now," he said with that quiet, stern tone he had used earlier, "Tell me do you like this?" She swallowed and looked at the reflection of his face. The stillness and solemnity of it seemed in sharp contrast with the fire that lit in his eyes. She found herself at a loss for words and just stared at him. "Blink three times if the answer is yes," he said, "If you can not find your tongue, that is." Slowly, she blinked once, twice, three times and he smiled.
It was that dark, hungry look that had flashed over his face earlier returning. She found herself blushing again and suddenly filled with the need to hide her face. It was, however, impossible with how she was bound and the way he held her head back. "You desperately need something inside you," he said, his tone filled with sensual menace, "You need it so bad that you can't speak, don't you?" Unsure what to say and too tongue tied to even say it, she blinked three times again. "Perhaps next time," he said, his tone a mixture of the sternness of earlier and the menace of but a moment before, "Next time, you will listen to me. Tonight, this is all you get. I can wait and I have my own way of dealing with this ... discomfort you're feeling. But you, my dear, are going to stay like this for a little while as I do so."
She stared at him with her eyes shining with anguish. "Oh, don't worry," he said pleasantly, caressing her cheek with his free hand, "You'll get to help. Maybe tomorrow, you'll even get to play." He let go of her hair and stooped. As he lifted her and set her on the bed, she made a small cry of alarm. He stood before her, his hips level with her face, which was lifted off the bed by her restraints. "Kick up those pretty little feet, darling," he said. She lifted them from the bed and tried to look up at him.
His hands moved busily before her eyes, freeing his erection from its fabric prison. "Open up," he said. She gave a shudder of pleasure and did as he directed. He set his hands to either side of her head and slipped into her mouth. Unable to do anything more then suckle him, she made a muffled, sensual noise. Slowly he thrust into her, savoring the sight of his handiwork. As he felt his orgasm starting to build, he moved faster.
Laying before him, bound and helpless, she moaned with pleasure. Her body responded powerfully to the helplessness and she soon found herself whimpering with small animalistic sounds of lust. "Good," he groaned, and then gave himself over to burying his erection in her mouth. When his orgasm struck, she was making frantic noises of arousal. He withdrew his softening prick and tucked it back into his clothes. She gave a low, pained sounding moan.
"Please," she said breathily, sounding as though she was in pure torment. He froze for a moment, listening intently. She looked up at him with desperation in her eyes. "Please fuck me," she groaned. His brief look of concern turned into a sadistic grin. He ran a finger over her bruised lips.
"No," he replied and she gave a little sob.