tagNonConsent/ReluctanceA Heart Restrained

A Heart Restrained

byQueen of Mars©

Leigh wakes, consciousness returning like the sun slowly rising over the horizon. Disoriented, she takes in her surroundings. She is on a bed in a room she doesn't recognize, propped up on large, soft, red velvet pillows, her body enveloped by pink satin sheets.

She is naked ..... and handcuffed to the headboard.

"Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into?"

The cuffs are padded, at least. She yanks hard, first her left arm, then her right, testing the strength of the steel cuffs and brass bed frame. Solid, no give at all. She starts to pull her feet up for more leverage, but finds soft straps around her ankles, limiting her leg movement. She is in no pain, however. Someone has gone to a great deal of trouble to insure her physical comfort.

Mental comfort is another story entirely.

"What have I done? What have I done?" she frantically asks herself, desperately looking around. The single window is completely covered with red drapes that match the pillows. No phone is visible, and the only door is closed. The scent of roses permeates the air, and she realizes that the flowers are everywhere; vases full on both night stands flanking the antique bed, vases on the large, ornate dresser, petals scattered over the sheets. The bedside lamp has a beaded red shade embroidered with pink and white roses, and there are two candelabras with crystal rose blooms holding unlit tapers.

She glances up and sees her wide-eyed reflection staring back from a large mirror hanging directly overhead. Were the situation not so overwhelming, she might laugh. The mirror is framed with a banner of paper Cupids and hearts. Balloons proclaiming "Happy Valentine's Day" drift and cling to the ceiling.

Valentine's Day?

Shaking and fuzzy, she tries to visualize the night's events. Was it just this evening? She had finally met Anthony, her mysterious and passionate Internet lover, in the flesh only hours before. Or was it days? Minutes? She has no sense of time passing.

Anthony seemed to be everything Leigh had ever imagined in a wet dream -- tall, handsome, charming, sexy, and urbane. They both loved to read and started out discussing books for hours on end, but then things began to change. She recalled how his intelligence and gentle, accepting attitude had attracted her, and how, little by little, like a spring drizzle turning into a downpour, she had revealed her heart and soul to him.

Opening up to this sympathetic man over the Web had seemed so much easier than stretching out on a couch in a therapist's office. She told him about her repressed upbringing with fanatically religious grandparents after her mother and father had died in an accident; about a grandmother so strict she considered Valentine's Day a "pagan" holiday and never let Leigh accept or give out the colorful little cards and candy hearts the other kids happily exchanged. She told him about the school dances and parties she could never attend, the pretty dresses she was never allowed to wear, and how she had envied the other girls as they talked about their dates. She spoke of loneliness and tears on pillows and chances missed, and how she had finally escaped to freedom with a college scholarship in library science at a school in another state.

Finally, she confessed her fear and hesitation with men, her shyness around them, and her doubts about her sensuality. She wasn't a virgin, but at 30 years of age, she had never been anybody's Valentine.

Anthony was patient and understanding, and she eventually worked up to sharing a few of her unrequited fantasies with him. Weeks of computer flirtation, phone calls, photo exchanges, erotic stories had ensued -- the most exciting and prolonged "foreplay" Leigh had ever experienced. His attention was exhilarating, his concern nurturing. She felt like a neglected rose bush blossoming for the first time.

They had met in the promenade of a local mall, she in a red dress, he in a red tie, beaming wide smiles in instant recognition. The sexual tension, the so-called "chemistry" she had always heard about, had been palpable and astonishing, and after a few sentences of inane small talk, Anthony had pulled her close, kissing her passionately. Leigh had felt like she was falling into quicksand, but she hadn't cared. Even now, she can still feel Anthony's firm body against hers, the softness of his lips, and the first delicious taste of his kiss. She can still see the shocked and comical looks of the passing shoppers.

A mall security officer had started in their direction, grim-faced. Laughing, breathless, she and Anthony had tumbled out into the street and run hand-in-hand to his nearby car, where they proceeded to "make out" like teenagers who had just discovered that their mouths were good for something besides back-talk and the consumption of junk food.

When they finally came up for oxygen, they went to a romantic dinner at the most perfect little French bistro. Slowly, and with lots of wine, her awkwardness at "real time" conversation had disappeared. She had felt so wonderful, so familiar with this man she had just met. Anthony had invited her back to his place -- oh, no -- for a nightcap. They had talked, laughed, nuzzled, and again explored each others mouths thoroughly with their tongues.

She recalls how drowsy she had gotten from all the wine, how she had rested her head on Anthony's shoulder, his arms warmly encircling her, just to close her eyes for a moment. The last thing she remembers is Anthony's breath in her ear and barely heard whispers, something about how beautiful she was, and that he had a special Valentine's gift for her.

"Did he drug me?" she wonders, her thoughts machine-gunning through her mind. "Am I his prisoner now? What on earth is he planning? Did he think I really meant some of the stuff I was telling him? Oh, God, they were just fantasies! I hardly know this man or what he's capable of! Why did I come home with him? How could I be so wrong about someone? Idiot bimbo! Oh, Jesus, oh Lord, help me! What kind of lion's den of inequity did I toss myself into? How do I get out of this? What am I going to do? Arrrgh!!" She jerks more forcefully on the unyielding cuffs. She's not going anywhere, she realizes.

She is very afraid.

The door opens and Anthony steps into the room, closing it behind him. He is barefoot and dressed in black silk pajamas. He sets something -- she can't see what -- down on the dresser, turns to her, and smiles, the kind of enigmatic smile that says something is about to happen. A confident and somewhat frightening smile that announces, "I am in charge."

Leigh shivers, dread grabbing her heart like a fist.

"W-why are you d-doing this, Anthony," she quavers. "Let m-me go, NOW!"

Anthony lights the candles and turns off the lamp before replying in a low voice and with quiet determination. "I'm going to make one of those dreams you shared with me come true, Leigh. I've planned this fantasy just for you. You're so uptight, love, so frightened and withdrawn and controlled. You have to let go of it all, and I think this is the only way."

"You figured I'd be more relaxed CUFFED to a bed?!?" she screams at him. "Let me go, you bastard, or I will hurt you!"

He caresses her long hair. "I would never do anything to hurt you, Leigh. I promise. You don't need to be scared. I just want to give you an experience without guilt, a Valentine's Day gift you'll never forget." With that, Anthony unbuttons and drops his pajama top, revealing a smooth chest with a small tattoo, an arrow-pierced heart over his left nipple. He pulls the sheet off Leigh, leaving her helplessly naked, and languidly crawls onto the bed. He kisses Leigh's feet, then her ankles. Slowly, lovingly, he moves upward, kissing and nipping and running his tongue up her right leg to her thigh.

Leigh is trembling, unsure if it is from embarrassment or rage at her inability to act. "Please, Anthony. Don't do this. I can't handle it. I can't.

"Trust me, Leigh. You'll enjoy it, if you let yourself," Anthony says, licking the inside of her thigh, watching her reaction. "Lose yourself in the sensations. Give in, just this once. Don't do it for me, darling, do it for yourself." He continues up from her thigh, kissing and tonguing her belly, touching her, fingertips swirling lightly and enticing already heightened nerve endings.

Leigh clenches her teeth and sinks back into the pillows. She stiffens her body. "If you think I'm going to enjoy you taking advantage of me against my will, you're wrong," she coldly states.

"We'll see," Anthony says muffled, his mouth planted firmly on the sweet spot between her breasts. He starts to fondle her breasts, gently squeezing, and then pinching and pulling her nipples. He raises first one, then the other, up to his eager mouth, sucking greedily, watching her face. He then licks each pink bud as if it were a precious delicacy, to be savored slowly.

In spite of herself, Leigh begins to feel unwanted warmth invade her body. Her nipples tingle and harden, calling for his lips. He works his mouth up to her neck, kissing hungrily, while his strong fingers attend to her now achingly sensitive breasts. He finds that "treasure spot" on her neck, bites gently, and shivers run down Leigh's spine. A low moan escapes her mouth, unbidden, and she can feel moisture beginning to well between her legs. Her stiffness fades, her body betraying her as it responds to his touch.

Anthony reverses his course, taking his time, kissing and licking his way back down, down to her now thoroughly dripping sex. He stops for a moment, again looking her in the eyes while a slight smile plays over his lips. Then he gently spreads her legs and lowers his head.

The first flick of his tongue sends shock waves throughout her body. All ideas of resistance disappear. The next few delightful tongue strokes leave her gasping. Anthony clenches her ass in one hand, the other reaches down to spread the swollen lips of her vagina, gaining better access to her now erect clit. Leigh closes her eyes and moans again, louder, as Anthony's tongue dances over her most secret place. "You taste so good, baby," he whispers between energetic licks, "like wild honey." She arches her back, straining against the handcuffs. Her hips undulate, forcing her mound against his face, again, again, again. Anthony's tongue alternates between teasing her little button and sliding deep into her sopping groove. Suddenly, he sucks hard on her clit, and she feels the graze of his teeth, so delicately, and her whole body quakes.

Leigh opens her eyes and looks up at the ceiling mirror. Framed like a surreal portrait in shimmering candlelight, the sight of Anthony enthusiastically going down on her arouses her beyond belief, beyond all rationality. Panting, closing her eyes tight to concentrate on the fire rolling between her legs, a noise starts deep in Leigh's throat, escalating in intensity and pitch as Anthony increases the pressure and speed of his tongue.

And then, without warning, Anthony stops and looks up at her, smiling wide, chin glistening with her fluids.

"Oh God," Leigh wails. "Oh, God, Anthony, don't, d-don't stop now! Please, oh please, p-please, pleaseeeeee!" she begs, eyes filling with tears of frustration.

Smiling and saying nothing, Anthony moves off the bed. He strips off his pants, his erection emerging enormous and rigid. He retrieves the object he earlier placed on the dresser. He mounts her high, straddling her chest, careful not to let his weight press down on her. As his granite organ slides between her breasts, she sees that he is holding a ceramic creamer shaped like a rose. He reaches back to insert two fingers into her wet chasm, making her gasp again, then brings them up, drenched with her fluids. He dips them into the little pitcher, coating them with dark liquid, and then puts them to her lips.

Her tongue lapping at his fingers, Leigh tastes her own juices, and chocolate -- rich, creamy, delicious chocolate.

"What's Valentine's Day without chocolate?" he teases. Anthony rubs and covers his penis with the melted confection, groaning softly as the heat seeps into his stone-stiff member. Rising to his knees, he brings his candied cock up to Leigh's awaiting lips. "Ummmm," she sighs, licking and tasting, sucking the tip, running her tongue up and down his shaft. Anthony, hands now on either side of her head, fingers intertwined in her hair, makes appreciative noises in harmony with her movements.

Leigh desperately wants to pull him closer, engulf him entirely with her mouth and feel his groin pressed against her face, but she can't. Anthony is controlling everything. He allows her to taste only so much of his luscious member, then pulls back out of her reach. He repeats this maneuver until Leigh has consumed all the chocolate off his throbbing staff.

Smiling again, he repositions himself lower, his penis now teasing her clit. Raising the pitcher high in the air, he slowly pours chocolate onto her chest and breasts, one drop at a time. She whimpers as the warm droplets hit her nipples, quivers as Anthony licks her breasts clean and smooth while sliding his hard baton back and forth over her engorged sex. Once again he changes position, back to a crouch between her spread legs. "Not that you aren't sweet enough" he says, mischievously tilting the pitcher.

Leigh draws her breath in sharply as the thin cascade of syrup seeps into her depths, bites her bottom lip as warm chocolate trickles onto her clit. Anthony sets the pitcher down and again lowers his head, drinking in the erotic, intoxicating mixture like a starving man. Her hips involuntarily flex upward, her hidden recesses craving, begging his attention. She watches rapturously in the mirror as he vigorously sucks and tongues her swollen button, one hand against the small of her back, steadily urging her body to meet his mouth. Two fingers of the other hand find her opening and slip inside, probing. As the blaze in her loins intensifies and spreads, a ruby glow of excitement infuses her pale skin. Leigh rocks her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against him, her thighs imprisoning his head. Eyes shut now, she is almost sobbing Anthony's name, straining against her restraints, wanting to break her bonds, grab his head and hand and force his tongue and fingers deeper inside her.

Anthony sucks harder, his tongue a tornado on her clit, his fingers bobbing in and out of her. The glow inside her becomes a red thundercloud, radiating outward. She screams incoherently and begins to convulse, her body lifting off the bed. Her blood sears through her veins, her orgasm shattering, blasting through her like a lightening strike. Anthony can barely hold onto her bucking torso, but manages until her spasms of pleasure subside.

Leigh collapses senseless back into the bed, eyes still closed, breath tattered, her pulse racing like the wind, beads of perspiration gathered at her temples. She can't feel the restraints any more. In fact, she can't feel much of anything.

Moments of oblivion pass before she becomes aware that Anthony has climbed on top of her, is nuzzling her throat. He kisses her chin softly, as if it was fragile porcelain, then her cheeks, her nose, her brow. His lips finally meet hers, a tender meeting that soon turns into a forceful, passionate collision, tongues deep and wild. His fingers comb and tug at her red curls. Leigh flinches as the tip of his cock brushes her clit, still acutely sensitive from her climax.

Anthony embraces her tightly, his magic wand knocking at her heavenly door, poised and ready to enter her. "I can't," she gasps. "N-Not yet. Too s-soon."

Anthony smiles again and whispers, "Baby, you are mine now, body and soul, and I say you can." He raises himself so he can see her face, and then with one deliberate thrust his cock is deep inside her, Leigh crying out in exquisite pain. He pauses and kisses her again, then begins to pump her slowly, maddeningly. She pants his name, lifts herself off the bed to meet him, clenching him as tautly as she can with legs bound, her muscles gripping his member like an oiled vise. She is concentrating so fiercely she is barely breathing, and the expression on her face is one of undeniable ecstasy. The sounds coming from her seem to incite him further.

He increases his speed, plows harder, deeper into her, moaning her name now like a prayer. They are both flushed and sweating, heat emitting from their bodies like a sun about to go nova. And in a moment, they explode.

"Oh God, Leigh!" screams Anthony as the first hot burst spurts from him. The heat of him, flowing into her like liquid flame, pushes Leigh over the edge. Her body trembles, shudders violently, wave after orgasmic wave overwhelming her, absorbing her whole being. "Anthony!" she cries, the only word in her vocabulary, the only thought in her head.

Their movements gradually change from urgent, exhilarating, to exhausted, sated. Anthony collapses on top of Leigh, arms encircling her snugly and holding his full weight off her. They are both gasping for air. Their chests pressed together, they feel the frantic cadence of both their hearts slowing, almost becoming one. They breathe in sync for a time.

Anthony slips out of her, eliciting another groan from Leigh. He rises up and busses her lips quickly, then fumbles under the pillow. His hand emerges with a key. He unlocks one cuff, then the other. Her hands drop to his chest, and he rubs her sore wrists. As he unbinds her feet, Leigh's hands move to encircle his neck, fingers exerting firm pressure.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't strangle you right here and now for what you've done to me?" she growls, glaring at him.

"But you won't, sweetheart," he says, smiling, taking her hands and kissing the palms lightly.

Still staring deep into his eyes, she sees emotions she isn't yet prepared to deal with, his feelings, hers reflected. "How did you know?" she very quietly asks. "How did you know I wouldn't kill you afterward, or call 911 and have your pervert butt in jail?"

"I didn't," Anthony replies, licking the tips of her fingers. "I thought about your possible reactions while I arranged this, how disastrous the repercussions might be for both of us. But sometimes, you just have to go by your gut feeling and take a huge gamble to get the most amazing reward. Some women, a rare few," he smiles, "are worth a risk."

He clasps her hands, tightly. "I can't explain it, honey, but I feel like, like we've loved before. I KNEW you wanted to give yourself to me, totally and completely, but you were scared. I knew I'd have to convince you to surrender and knock down those walls. You would never have freed the heart of that hurt little girl inside on your own. You were just too restrained, Leigh."

He places her hands on his cheeks, cupping his face, and looks at her the way no man ever has before. The intensity is almost too much to bear. She closes her eyes for a moment, says a silent prayer that the abyss she is diving into won't end up in an eternal lake of damnation, opens her eyes and draws him down to her lips. "I don't know what to think of you, Anthony, but I guess I have to take a risk. What other surprises do you have in store for me?"

"You'll just have to stick around and find out," he says, winking and pulling her into him. As they meld into a kiss, Anthony whispers, "Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

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