tagBDSMBound Bukkake

Bound Bukkake

byValensGirl©

She ties him to a chair, because she wants him to feel helpless for this. He's naked, and she spreads his legs wide and ties them so he's straddling the chair. No way for him to hide his penis and balls, or keep from exposing any erections he sports. She ties his hands behind his back; it makes his chest thrust forward just a little, and she pinches his nipples tightly before she leaves him there, exposed and sensitive.

"Now, be a good boy," she says. She strokes his cheek and kisses him deeply, possessively. She steps back and ogles him, running her eyes up and down his body. He flushes at her scrutiny. He's already more than half-hard.

She reaches down in front of him and strokes his penis. "I'm going out now," she says. "I won't be long. Remember, you haven't earned the right to come yet. I want you hard and waiting for me when I get back. Don't even think about getting a hand out of the rope so you can touch yourself."

The instant she says it, it's all he can think about, and she laughs as she sees the expression on his face. "If you're a good boy, I'll suck your dick later," she says with a filthy wink, and then she turns and walks from the room, her gorgeous ass swinging.

He has the biggest boner he's had all week, which is saying something considering that she hasn't let him come in five days. She's teased him every morning with her hands and warm wet mouth, and made him masturbate for her every night before sleep, but she stops him every time just before he's about to orgasm. He doesn't know what she's up to tonight, and the anticipation is killing him. He can't stop thinking about touching himself, or her sucking him hot and hard until he comes.

He's just starting to calculate his chances of getting free of the rope long enough to jack off very quickly before she returns when he hears the click of the door latch. He jerks his head up. No one should be here!

A man enters the room as if he owns it. He leaves the door open behind him. The man in the chair thinks he recognizes him from somewhere, but he can't quite place where. He's about to protest that this is a private residence, but the man makes an imperious shushing gesture. He's carrying a piece of paper in his hand and he brings it over to the naked man on the chair, holding it up in front of his face so he can read it. It's written in bright red marker in a familiar bold script.

*Sweetheart, if you're reading this while tied up nude and waiting for me, do whatever this man says. No questions asked. Nod if you understand.*

It's her handwriting. He flushes hot all over at the thought that she planned this. She actually asked someone over to see him like this! He gapes at the man, deeply humiliated to be seen naked and hard and vulnerable--and also turned on as hell.

He finally remembers to nod, and the man smiles and folds the message away, tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. He's tall, dark hair shading to salt-and-pepper, with a commanding air. Even through his jeans, he's obviously hard, and as he starts to unzip his fly, the man in the chair swallows hard.

"Kiss it," the tall man says, and the man in the chair leans forward as much as he can. He kisses the tip of the man's cock, and the man shoves the head of it just past his lips. He tongues the head of a pretty big, solid cock for a few moments until the other man pulls back and wipes himself on his cheek. Then the tall man starts to stroke his dick, holding the seated man's eye and smiling with a look of self-satisfaction that has everything to do with being free to pleasure himself while the man in front of him has a raging hard-on he can't touch.

He jacks himself in long hard strokes, obviously enjoying himself. It doesn't take long until he's coming, and he shoots all over the naked man in the chair, leaving white stripes all over his belly, chest, and thighs. He shoves his cock up against his lips again, and the seated man licks him clean. Then he tucks himself back into his pants, squeezes his shoulder, and is gone.

The bound man watches him go, feeling stunned. He's rock hard, absolutely aching. It feels like every ounce of blood in his body has pooled in his cock. The wet white cum on his overheated skin mocks him. If only he could get one touch, just one, he's sure he would come so hard he'd see fireworks.

He hears footsteps in the hall, and he opens his mouth to beg her--to promise anything she wants, to take anything she wants to do to him, if only she'll just touch his cock. Please.

But it's not her. It's another man. No, two, one skinny and pale with shoulder-length dark hair, the other tall and elegant and brown. They don't seem to notice him immediately, even though he's right in the centre of the room, naked and tied and hard to miss. They stumble into the room, already entangled with each other. The pale man presses the darker one against the wall and kisses him roughly, and his partner moans, pulling their hips together. It would be hot even if he wasn't already nearly on the edge, and as it is he can't help the groan of pure sexual frustration the scene rips out of him.

They freeze at the sound and turn to look at him. "Oh, right," says the pale man, and grins lasciviously. Oh God, thinks the man in the chair, she sent them too? From the eager way they're looking at him, he's sure of it. The darker man pulls the other across the room by his belt loops, and they stop right in front of him and start to kiss again. It's a full-body kiss: they're grinding against each other and pulling at each other's clothes as if they have to be naked *right now*. When the pale man starts to tug his partner's trousers down, there's a quiet word and a laugh, and they turn to face him, standing back to chest with the darker man in front and the pale man's hands down his pants, pulling him out and stroking him just inches from the seated man's face.

For the second time in ten minutes he's face to cock with a man rapidly hurtling towards orgasm. This time there's noise and movement, and he's sharply aware that this man doesn't even have to jack himself off, he's got someone else to do it for him. The first spurts of cum hit him right in the face, and then they shift their movements so they coat his cock and balls with it. The hot cum hitting his engorged, sensitive cock makes him buck his hips and cry out. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep from losing his mind.

His eyes snap open when he feels hands on his wrists. It's the pale man, freeing one of his hands. The man comes around in front of him again, and folds the fingers of the freed hand around the erection straining out of his pants. It takes a little longer this time, with the awkward angle, but then the darker man kisses the pale one again, and he spills into the seated man's hand, adding to the mess.

They straighten their clothes, ruffle his hair, and then they, too, are gone. He sags in the chair, mentally exhausted and utterly turned on.

He absolutely cannot take any more of this, so when he hears more footsteps in the hall he actually winces. And then he realizes these aren't men's footsteps.

They're her.

He sits up instantly, back straight, eyes drinking her in. Finally. Finally.

But her beautiful face is hard as she sweeps her gaze over him. "I can't believe you," she says in disgust.

"W-what?" His throat is dry and his voice scratches.

"Did I or did I not specifically tell you *not* to touch your dick? What, you think this is a game and it's really just peachy to jack off as soon as my back is turned?"

He gapes at her. "I didn't!"

She snorts. "Yeah, right. Just look at yourself. You obviously got your hand free somehow." He looks down at himself in awful, dawning realization. He's covered in cum and his hand is free. He looks like he's spent the whole time she was gone jacking himself furiously. His cock is standing up stiff and nearly purple, but that only makes it worse. He looks debauched and insatiable, like he's been trying to make up for the whole week's denial in one go.

"But the note," he stammers.

"Note?"

"The man gave me a note, it said--"

She raises her eyebrows incredulously. "The man? What man?" He stares at her, trying to form a coherent sentence. She reaches down in front of him and slaps his cock, hard. He gasps at the pain, and she does it again. Then she grips his dick tightly and runs her thumb tortuously around the head. "Get your story straight, mister. I'll tell you one thing, though. You just lost *any* chance you had of coming tonight." His gasps turn to whimpers as she rubs her thumb hard over the slit in the tip of his cock, pushing straight past pleasure into pain.

She stands up and starts to untie him. "Get up and go take a shower. Then bring me the big butt plug, the one that makes you wince to sit down when it's in. And my black dildo. You're going to get such a reaming tonight that you might even remember that all the cocks in this house belong to me."

And she walks away from him. As she goes, he sees a red marker tucked into the back pocket of her jeans.

She knows. She's always known. She did the whole thing on purpose.

And she's enjoying the hell out of it.

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by Anonymous

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by LongJohnSilver6908/27/13

Loved it

If You read my last two stories, You would know i loved Your use of other males to use and humiliate him.

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