A Tiger by the TailbySpencerAlanMacLeod©
This is a Femdom tale that takes place between my ex and me. It happens a few days after the events depicted in "Rounds".
Once again, I had been able to negotiate a scene where she was the top. Being very repressed and very highly sexed made for a dynamite combination; when I could get her to play at all.
I find it interesting that she never wanted to change. Her attitude about sexuality was the same throughout our marriage. She'd put up this fierce resistance; then she'd do this abrupt about face and I would suddenly have:
* * * * *
When I was a young man, I saw a series of pictures of a woman being restrained with a single sleeve. It was a series of photos taken while a willing young model was bound up for the viewer's pleasure.
First he used a couple of joined leather cuffs to attach her elbows behind her back and then he did the same to her wrists. Finally, he encased both arms in a single "sleeve" of leather.
Her arms were pulled well back and out of the way; her chest was extended in front She had a very nice front and it was left to my very active imagination, as to what happened next. Her being entirely naked made it easy to decide about that.
I wanted my ex to play and I wanted more than vanilla (if you know what I mean), so I negotiated with her for this specific scene. At first, I wanted to tie her up but she wasn't having any of it; especially after the last time she was on the bottom. The fact that she had a good time simple didn't matter to her (go figure). If I couldn't be on top, then I'd settle for the bottom.
Eventually, she agreed to torment me to orgasm and slightly beyond. She wanted to take a long time to do it. Since, in her words, "she was doing all the work", she was going to be doing other things, as well. In this case, she was going to watch a movie while I remained nude and bound to her favorite easy chair.
This particular living room chair had been the last place she had tormented me. It had a reclining back and extending foot rest. The arms were padded. I agreed to show her how to restrain me facing the side of the chair while she watched T.V. This would place my privates within easy reach of her hands while at the same time, leaving them helplessly available to her cruel ministrations.
The concept of the single sleeve with a few slight modifications is what I planned. To be bound, nude and available to a known cruel torment; I was both aroused and ashamed.
I made sure the doors and windows were locked. We were alone and the answering machine was on, so we wouldn't be disturbed.
Going to bedroom dresser, I acquired all the "supplies" I would need and walked back out to the living room. I placed all the restraints on the coffee table between the chair and the T.V.
She had changed into a little black dress and short black pumps. A touch of make-up and cruel gleam in her eye showed me she was ready.
"Strip!" She commanded me in a loud and aggressive voice.
I hastened to obey her, all the while feel more aroused by the second. At the same time I also felt embarrassed yet this added to the intensity of the experience.
When I was completely nude, she had me attach leather cuffs to my ankles and stand facing the right side of the easy chair. My feet were on the outside of the right side of the chair feet. The front of my thighs pressed against the right arm of the chair about half way up.
She quickly ran a long lock / release strap around the back of my thighs and the right arm of the easy chair. A similar strap locked my ankles to the right side feet of the chair. So now I was attached to the chair and while my arms were free for the moment, my lower body was completely restricted. As a last gesture, she pulled the straps around my thighs and ankles very tight. I was quite immobile from the waist down.
Next she wrapped my thick black leather belt lightly around my waist. Running two small white parallel ropes from my back through the crack in my ass, she tied them off to the front of the belt and she tightened the belt, as well.
Then there was the "single sleeve" concept. I had told her of what I was interested in on previous occasions, so it wasn't totally unusual for her. She bound my elbows behind my back with a short lock / release strap and she did the same for my wrists. Pulling both straps tightly forced my elbows back and my chest forward. Taking one last strap, she wrapped it vertically between my wrist restraints and the strap around my ankles.
The end result was that I was almost completely immobile. My feet were about double shoulder width apart. My chest was pushed obscenely forward and my arms were bound tightly behind me. I was able to move my upper body just enough to turn her on.
Almost as an afterthought, she shoved a ball gag into my reluctant mouth. Standing back, she surveyed her handiwork with hot eyes while I started to become hard just having her watch me.
A Taste for Leather
I watched with mounting excitement as she walked over to the coffee table and picked up a shiny black leather belt that I usually reserved for my suit.
Idly, she canted her head to one side and ran the belt through her hands. She smiled in a rather dreamy way. Then she sighed.
"Let's be sure that those restraints will actually hold you." She murmured, almost to herself.
I tightened my nude bound body as much as possible, in anticipation of what was to come. My breath started coming in shallow gasps past the rude ball gag and I could feel my erection even more. My stomach tingled with anticipation and I found myself clenching my muscular buttocks.
She walked over to stand at my right side, and facing me, she drew back her right hand with the belt. Still she smiled.
Her voice started soft but gradually increased in passion as she implied her threat, "These won't be too hard so don't move or cry out. Otherwise...!"
She was standing so that I would have had to have really turned my head to see what she was up to (even though I knew what was to come). I, on the other hand, was totally available to her.
I heard the swish of the belt before I felt its sharp impact and heard the wet splat it made as it landed on my flat, hard stomach. My body jerked against the assault.
I grunted inadvertently and she hit me in almost the same spot again. My nude muscular torso tightened in reflex against her naughty strikes. They weren't hard enough to cause damage, merely arousal.
I grunted again and this time she spoke rather impatiently, "Be silent!" When I want the use of your mouth, I'll tell you what to do!"
I tried to steel my will, as she warmed to her task. Again and again, the belt sang out and landed on my unprotected chest and stomach. Alas, I wasn't able to remain entirely silent or still (nor did I really want to).
I grunted as the belt landed yet again. I jerked my nude, bound body helplessly about. This thoroughly aroused both of us. My erection was glistening with precum. I was but her plaything and the belt in her hands let us both know that.
She seemed quite pleased that I was neither still nor quiet, despite her warnings to the contrary. Truth to tell, I think she wanted me to struggle and cry out. It aroused her (and I know it made me hot).
After about twenty four lashes to my unprotected front, she dropped the belt back onto the coffee table and remarked to me, "I can see that you aren't going to offer much resistance tonight but you will well wish you could before we are through."
I saw her leave the living room and I heard her make her way down the hall to the kitchen.
My breath was coming in shallow gasps around the ball gag. My arousal was apparent to both of us.
The angry red patches where the belt had impacted on my skin gave open testimony to her willingness to toy with me. All I could do was remain her gagged, nude, bound and helplessly available, sex toy.
She returned a couple of minutes later with a flute of white wine. Ignoring me completely, she picked up the T.V. remote and sat down in the easy chair.
And there I stood, nude, bound, available and so close if I had cum, I'd have shot into her face. I found the whole thing arousing and tantalizing.
She pointed the remote at the T.V. and turned it on. Still ignoring me, she took a sip from her flute before leaning forward and placing it on the coffee table.
Her little black dress accentuated her shoulders and its hem road up her creamy thighs exposing flesh I was rarely able to admire. I liked that dress but she wore it all too seldom. As a matter of fact, her being clothed while I was nude and bound was very, very exciting.
Finally, as my erection started to flag from lack of attention, she moved. Looking straight at it (but not my face), she grabbed it with her right manicured hand as if it were a hammer.
With her left thumb and forefinger she reached over and pinched the underside of my shaft just below the head. What they now call the frenum. She braced, my now iron hard, cock and cruelly pulled the sensitive skin there, back and forth.
I groaned and twisted my helplessly bound body within the little leeway my restraints would allow. Pain blended with delicious sexual pleasure as my dick stood at absolute attention.
She didn't look up when she threatened quietly, "Looks real sensitive...I'll make sure it's even more so before we're done."
I was both anxious and aroused when I heard this. I knew that she was just starting to come to terms with her own desires where sex and power were concerned.
I wondered how far she'd go.
On the Brink
She let go of my cock with both hands and turned in the chair until she was facing me. Reaching over to her left shoulder with her right hand, she callously backhanded my sensitive unit.
I shrieked and tried to pull away but I wasn't able to do more than move my upper body around a little bit. The pain from my quickly deflating cock was very intense and watched in mounting horror as she gave me a hard right forehanded slap to my stinging cock.
Back and forth, she slapped me into flaccidity. I jerked and struggled helplessly as pain warred with pleasure and won. My cries through the ball gag affected her (seemingly) not at all.
I had tensed my muscular torso against the pain and my breath was coming in shallow gasps when she stopped.
Turning in her seat to face the T.V., she reached out again with her right hand and firmly grasped my totally deflated, stinging manhood. She began to rhythmically squeeze and release it, as though she were inflating it. Her eyes did not leave the T.V. not did mine leave her face.
I was appalled as I watched/felt myself become instantly hard again. Even through the pain and humiliation of her assault, my cock was once again glistening with precum within a minute of her cruel ministrations.
Taking the tips of her right thumb and first two forefingers, she gently pulled upward on my glands. In this manner, she began to torment my already sensitive cock.
I groaned and shuddered but was otherwise helpless to do anything but endure (and enjoy her torment).
Leaning slightly forward, she picked up the flute of wine and took a sip. Her fingers never missed a stroke. Except for that damned hand tormenting me, she never gave a sign that she was doing aught but watching T.V.
I could not have told you what was on the tube. So intense was the experience that she was putting me through.
After a few minutes of this, I was starting to shake uncontrollably. My breath was still coming in shallow gasps (the belt around my waist helped see to that). My very tight restraints accented my helplessness and her cruel right hand worked its magic upon my very sensitive manhood.
The pleasure that pooled in my loins drove away all coherent thought. All I wanted to do was feel her hand upon my dick.
Without looking up, she stopped touching me. Her little black dress rustled as she got up out of the chair. Turning in my general direction on the opposite side of the chair, she pushed the recliner back out of the way.
She walked over to the coffee table and then she bent over gracefully and did something I couldn't see. I strained to see but her body shielded her and I remained in the dark about what was to come next.
Straightening up as she turned to face me, I could see what she had planned next. I struggled wildly. Jerking and pulling against my restraints only brought a smile to her lips. Her eyes were dark and hot with passion.
She had wrapped the belt firmly around her manicured right hand. Only a few inches were left free and those she held in her left hand. She walked stately back until she was facing me across the now empty chair.
I shook my head at her and watched as she smiled at my obvious fear and arousal. Slowly she nodded her assertion back at me. Her smile grew and my anxiety rose.
Reaching back to her right, she whipped the belt briskly through the air. It smacked loudly against my iron hard cock. I shrieked through the gag and tried to tell her to stop. She responded by backhanding my cock with the belt. Again, I struggled and cried out. But my manhood seemed not to mind this at all. Despite the pain, it remained hard and erect, its head glistening.
After several punishing blows, I began to realize that, although a part of me hated this, another part of me was really getting off on it.
Seeing she was having an arousing effect on me, she casually dropped the belt on the coffee table and smiling to herself; she came back and sat down in the chair. She did not look up.
Once there, she resumed stroking my unit head with her right thumb and first two forefingers. I groaned with both passion and frustration.
My cock both stung and felt heavy. I was filled to the breaking point with both shame and sexual desire. If she had untied me at that moment, I'd have taken her right there. Alas, my restraints told me I wasn't going anywhere and she didn't seem inclined to untie me.
Finally, after several more minutes of this; she looked up at my face. Smiling ever so sweetly, she murmured, "You do realize that you are a long way from coming."
I stifled the groan I felt but my discomfort must have been clear. She laughed lightly and said, "I'm glad we understand each other."
Then she resumed her cruel torment while watching the T.V.
Periodically, she'd reach forward and took a sip of wine from the tall flute. Her little black dress would ride slightly back on her shapely thighs before she'd straighten herself out.
With her right hand, she continued stroking me. I groaned and she smiled while facing the T.V. but otherwise she seemed to ignore me.
This stroking continued for several more minutes before I could feel myself beginning to lose control. I groaned erotically and began to shake as her velvet fingers worked their magic upon me.
Just when I thought I'd lose it, she stopped touching me. There I stood, nude, gagged, bound and helplessly aroused by this cruel slip of a woman who had made it known that she was going to take a long time to make me cum. Before things got interesting...
Getting up out of the easy chair and putting the flute down on the coffee table, she walked out of the room without looking back. Only then did I realize that I could hear a commercial playing on the T.V.
After a couple of minutes, she returned with some items that she placed on the coffee table. They were a large bottle of lubricant, a hand towel, a bag of clothes pins and something else which she kept from my view.
Walking up behind my nude, bound form, her right hand slowly and lightly caressed my right side. I felt her dress brush up against my tightly restrained arms. I smelled her and felt her and wanted her so bad!
And she knew it! She put her face close to my left shoulder and licked it. The effect was stunning. I wanted to fuck her and use her hard yet at the same time; I did not want this moment to end. I pulled savagely on my restraints and growled through the gag.
She laughed at my helpless arousal, walked around the chair and sat back into it. Her cruel right hand grabbed my hard erection and pumped it several times for emphasis that it was, indeed, hers. Then she resumed that damned stroking with the thumb and two forefingers. I thought I'd go out of my mind.
For the next several minutes, she merely tormented me as she had done before. I say "merely" but to me it was both joy and agony. Every time I'd get close to an orgasm, she'd stop or she'd change the rhythm of her strokes just enough to throw me off. It kept me aroused but not aroused enough to cum.
Suddenly, the T.V. began to blare with another commercial. She picked up the bag of clothes pins and grabbed one out of the bag. Her eyes met mine as she mischievously taunted me with the clothes pin which she kept opening and closing in her right hand.
Reaching up, she attached it to my right nipple. This was followed by one being placed on my left nipple. The clothes pins weren't very painful but they did remind me that I was hers to do with as she pleased for tonight. They certainly looked erotic from my perspective.
Then she pulled another clothes pin from the bag and attached it to the underside of my erection. She repeated this several more times until the entire underside of my cock was full of clothes pins from the bottom of the glands to the base.
As I said, they did not hurt but I certainly knew they were there. She stood up and once again, pushed back the reclining upper back of the chair. Then she moved over to the coffee table where she picked up the belt. This time she made sure I could see her wrapping it menacingly around her right hand as she stood directly across the chair from me. Her face was a mask of raw carnal desire and fury.
I did my best to tighten my nude and bound body against the intended assault. There, in her little black dress and pumps, she reared back with the belt and let fly.
The first lash ripped the clothes pin from my right nipple. It stung and I tried to stifle the cry that came to my gagged lips. The next lash tore the clothes pin from my left nipple. Again, I felt the sting and struggled not to debase myself with a cry.
It was at this point that she got mean. Looking me directly, in the eye, she said calmly, "You know where the next few are going."
I groaned and shook my head at her but she smiled a cruel smile. Reaching back, she left fly with the belt against my helpless erection. Back and forth the belt landed on my dick. The clothes pins were smacked away within a couple of blows and while that stung; it was the next few hard blows of the belt on my dick that stole my silence (such as it was).
I shrieked and jerked as she gave into the full fury and passion that she was obviously feeling. My erection was as hard as I have ever had it, even though I was appalled, I was also very, very aroused.
And just as suddenly, she stopped, dropped the belt and sat back down in the chair. Then, while watching the T.V., she grabbed my iron hard erection and again, she began to rhythmically squeeze and pump it. This went on for several more minutes.
I moaned and cried out through the gag with every touch of her cruel and relentless hand. My nude, bound body was now jerking helplessly with passion, as she toyed with me.
She took great delight in tormenting me. I struggled helplessly against her cruel hands but it was no use. She had me right where she wanted me.
Finally, I once again heard the loud blare of a commercial. She stopped what she was doing, stood up and walked over to the coffee table for the bottle of lubricant.
Taking the bottle with her left hand and squeezed a dollop onto the palm of her right hand. She sat back down. Now I knew I was in for it!