An Interesting Bound Day

"But how am I supposed to do things?" you whine as he wraps the rope around your wrists. Joined together in front of you, your two wrists are bound together, firmly, but you have some flexibility left.

He smiles wickedly back at you. "That's your problem," He growls as he finishes the knot between your wrists. Your hands are now secure in front of you. He gives your ass a smack and tells you to go about your business for the day.

Today, all day, you will be in bondage. Your hands will be bound all day long as you eat, cook, watch television, sit, lay, pee, wash, read, work on the computer, etc. Every move, every need, will be amplified by the rope holding your wrists together.

Slave.

That is what you are.

It pleases your Master to see you move in the house this way.

Struggle with things.

Move in deliberate ways.

Taking moments to think about how to do things, that before were second nature to you.

You plead with him through your eyes. Surely being tied up all day will be too annoying. You can't possibly go through an entire day in this condition. Already, you struggle with the bonds testing the tightness. It is loose enough not to cut off circulation but too tight to squeeze out of.

You wonder whether to really push this. Will he back down? Will he ignore you? Will he punish you? Will he just gag you?

Glancing down, you see his hardness through his pants. Raging, excited, you realize why he is doing this.

It pleases him.

You are pleasing him by doing this, by struggling through the day with your bonds. When will he take you, when will he lay claim to what is his?

How often?

You are helpless to do anything, except submit and enjoy him. Enjoy your Master, for that is what pleases him. That is what turns him on. He has claimed you and your pussy becomes wet with anticipation.

You are naked, the house is warm, but you feel chilled. The nipples stand out away from you and hurt. He watches you as you go about cooking breakfast. Today would be a good day to keep things simple.

Toast and orange juice sounds like a plan. Even the easiest of tasks like opening the bag of bread is awkward, yet slowly you mange to place the breakfast on the table and call him in to eat.

Every move reminds you of your bondage. It reminds you that he has imposed his will on you. You grasp the toast with both hands and begin to eat when he stops you. You place the toast back on the plate and look at him with confusion.

Master reaches for your plate and pulls it across the table to his side. He shoves his chair out a little and then beckons you to sit on his lap. His lap is warm as you adjust your thighs to correct your balance. His rough jeans a dichotomy of the smooth sensual exposed skin that is you.

He handles your toast with care and moves it to your mouth. You take a bite and he pulls the toast away and then eats a bite from his own toast. You chew slowly as you realize he is going to feed you the entire meal. You swallow and await the next offering from him.

He lets you wait, just long enough that you wonder if he will give you another bite, then he picks up the toast and feeds it to you. The orange juice is next and you tilt your head to gulp down a few drops. A rivulet of juice dribbles down your cheek. He licks the drop off, cleaning you of the sticky fluid.

This goes on until you both have finished. Then he lifts you off his lap and with a little smack to your ass he bids you to clean up.

"Don't drop or break anything or you will be punished," he warns. You feel a cold shudder go through your body. He has only alluded to spanking you if you misbehave. Somehow you realize that he will actually do it today if given the chance. How does that make you feel? Apprehensive? Scared? Turned on?

He pretends that he has work to do and spreads his papers out all over the coffee table. He has decided to work in the living room, ignoring his office. Here he can keep an eye on you as you go about the daily tasks he has set for you. Every time you turn to see him, he is ignoring you, perhaps a little too well, as when you turn back to your task, you can feel his eyes on you and your naked body. That ass of yours, you always thought it was too big even though he assured you he loved it just the way it was. It's warm now as you imagine his eyes burning laser beam holes into your supple cheeks as you are bent over scrubbing the floor.

A smile comes across you as you decide to tease him. He loves your big ass? Well you'll give him a show then! You wiggle your ass a little more than usual as you scrub the same spot on the floor. That darn spot. Will it ever come out? There is no spot, but he doesn't need to know that!

As you continue with your work, you notice that he is more quiet than usual. He is glued to your movements and actions. You may be tied up but he is the helpless one as you hold all control over him with your bound movements. Who now is the Master? Who now is the slave? Your entire body smiles as this epiphany comes over you. It is a dance that the two of you are playing, and the tied hands in some strange way has freed you from you normal prudishness. Naked and exposed you feel freer than ever before.

The man in this room is your man. By playing this game with him, you are forging a strong bond together. You are another step up the infinite ladder of keeping your man. It's hard work, but for now, you think it's worth it.

He keeps coming up with interesting games like this. At first you were reluctant, but once you are in the game, you realize just what a gift he is giving you, no make that both of you! Play. It keeps things interesting. Not dull. You never think of him as dull. Others were. Before him. You never knew what you were searching for but now you have found it in him.

You feel sorry for your friends as they seem dull. They never play games and gasp with shock when you relay some of the tamer aspects of the games you play with him. They are shocked and scared, but you see a hint of envy and jealousy. How many of them go home after you tell your stories and confront their boyfriends about playing more?

Your friends look at him differently now. They tend to flirt with him. He can be clueless, just like all the rest of the men. Unaware that they are planting seeds of attraction into him as they laugh at his jokes, and touch him a little longer than usual. But he only has eyes for you. Games like this are your way of showing him your appreciation for his love for you.

At some point during these games, it no longer becomes a chore, just another expression of love and lust. How does he know what to do to get you going like this? The buttons he pushes, they get you both going. He is good...for you. So good!

Lunch becomes simple sandwiches. Again he feeds you as you squirm on his lap. This time, between bites, he strokes your skin, your shoulders, your hips, your thighs, everywhere except your breasts and your crotch. You are dripping when he dismisses you again to wash up while he...gets back to work.

You disappear in the bedroom to make the bed and tidy up. You change the sheets, slipping on the satin ones. You feel sexy and believe that he will take you tonight. How could he not? You see the way he looks at you. He is hungry. Ravenous!

You test your bounds. Your wrists are a little sore but you still have feeling in them. The ropes are still snug and tight. You have not been able to work them loose. He still has command over your freedom. Do you want to be free? If this is what confinement is then perhaps not?

The tasks are completed in the late afternoon. He grabs your wrists and drags you around the apartment. He inspects everything to make sure you have done a proper job. He checks everything as you wait mute behind him as he takes you in tow to each area you have cleaned and tidied up. He chuckles at the satin bed sheets.

"Well someone is sure of themselves," he exclaims. You blush and can't meet his eyes. Now you have doubts as to whether he will ravish you tonight. The bastard can see right through you and he delights in fucking with your mind. It makes things always interesting and intense. You never know with him. It excites you.

For a reward, he gives you a kiss. It's not just any kiss. This one rocks your foundation. Your knees buckle and he holds you up, always in command. You try to embrace him, but your bound wrists get in the way. You miss holding him, but right now he doesn't want you to. You become content with being held. You are his and you have known that for sometime. The bounds reinforce it. They remind you every second of this day of that fact.

He sits you down on the smooth couch. From here you can watch him as he proclaims that he will make dinner. You can see as he moves gracefully around in the kitchen. He is in no hurry. Your bound wrists are forgotten as you watch him with your own hunger and lust.

The lights are dim, the table is set. There is only one place setting and one chair. The plate has a meal on it. You don't know what it is, nor do you care. He has changed into a formal suit amplifying the difference between your naked exposed body and his well dressed frame. He takes you onto his lap again and offers you a sip of wine from the single glass. Soon he is feeding you, him, both of you.

His slacks are scratchy and you feel your skin breaking out a little from the irritation. You try to find relief but he will not let you. He is focused on you and with a smooth grace he feeds you another bite from his fork. You focus on the tastes and the smell of the food. It is rich, subtle, mature. Just like your lover, just like your man, just like your Master.

After dinner he leads you into the bedroom. You are glad you changed the bed sheets to the satin ones. He lays you on the cool satin sheet, it is a welcome relief to the itchy suit he wears.

He leaves your wrists bound in front of you. He said they would be bound all day. You hardly notice the confinement now. You are overcome with lust.

He kisses you and just as you start to get worked up he stops and gets up and takes off his jacket and hangs it up. You wriggle on the bed anxious for him to continue. He comes back and starts kissing you all over your body. He slurps at your nipples, bites your neck and tongues your pussy. You are feeling hot. You cannot think now, only react to the feelings he is giving you.

He stops again, this time he takes his pants off and his shirt. Again as you moan, he takes his time putting them away, hanging them up. Then he returns to you. He still has his jockeys on but they are tight and tented. You have that effect on him!

You try to reciprocate by moving your bound hands all over his body. It's awkward and cumbersome but you soon get the hang of it as he embraces your aggressiveness. He knows of your want, your need, but he takes things slow.

He gets you worked up again and then leaves you to take his jockeys off. You can't stand it anymore and leap up once his erect cock is exposed and you take it into your mouth. Your bound hands fondle his balls as you look up into the face of your man. He stares down at you and he is more turned on than you ever remember him being.

A few more minutes of the loving lavish attention you give him and he mutters for you to stop. You don't. You are eager. He says it again. The third time he grabs you and pulls you away. He has taken back control again. "Stop I said," he growls. "I don't want to finish yet!"

You smile as he throws you on the bed and then attacks your pussy with his mouth. He is sloppy, but then again so are you down there! Quickly there is moaning and screaming as he brings you off. Then another. And then another.

You are panting when he finally crawls on top and thrusts his cock into your wet pussy. It fits just right. For a moment you remember your hands are tied, but the moment passes as you collapse into the black hole that is him. Nothing can escape him when they are this close to him. He sucks you all the way in. Other times you have blended together as one being during the heights and frenzy of passion. This time, you are consumed by him. You are aware of every muscle and thrust he makes. You are aware of how it all feels to your body. You are aware that he is claiming you as his. You are aware.

When he explodes into you, you feel like he is sharing with you his essence, his soul. You are grateful for it, grateful for all that he does. These games, they are so powerful.

Later when you spoon together, his arm possessively wrapped around you while he sleeps, you stretch your arms as the ropes still bound your wrists together. Tomorrow he will remove the rope, but the bondage will always be there from now on. Your last thoughts before you nod off in contented slumber are wondering what the next game he comes up with might be.

As always, comments are most appreciated! Thanks for reading!