tagBDSMMoving Day

Moving Day

bySpencerAlanMacLeod©

Foreword

Originally, this was titled "Moving Day" and then, for a brief time, it was titled "First Time Hand Job". Having tried it as both I prefer "Moving Day".

So if you have read it before, please be advised of these changes.

*

My ex and I had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. I am mostly a top and she didn't have enough experience or desire to care one way or the other. If I had never touched her, she'd have been a happy camper. But that isn't my way.

All that being said; I had taken some years to get to know what she was aroused by. The fact that I knew this irritated her to no end.

She was shorter than I, fit and fiery (when not completely stressed out). Her dark hair hung shoulder length above her slim build.

I was of an average height and weight with natural blond hair and a driven personality type which I masked with an easy charm.

I was whatever it took to get the job done, provided it wasn't illegal or immoral.

While we had talked about female domination before this event, it was really the first time we enacted any of my submissive fantasies.

I would have preferred to dominate her but she would only endure my touch intermittently. So this idea came up and eventually we acted upon it.

It was one of the hottest times I ever had. Even now I become aroused thinking about it.


Moving Day

Chapter One

A Division of Labour

We were moving and she wasn't happy about it, not even a little. It was of little consequence that she had an equal say in the matter. She had wanted to move out on the day when we first moved in. All that mattered was that she was being called upon to work.

She was letting me know in no uncertain terms that her anger and frustration weren't going to be assuaged by any gesture on my part.

So, seeing an opportunity, I took advantage. (Who says I couldn't be seriously masochistic upon occasion?).

I suggested that we divide the work between us. I would perform the actual moving, along with whomever I could coerce into helping. She would pack everything into easy to carry boxes on the night before the big day.

She reluctantly agreed, so I pushed it one step further.

I said, "If you are going to be packing, you really don't want my help anyway."

She agreed with this too, as I usually packed the boxes much too heavy.

"So why don't you tie me nude to the easy chair in front of the T.V. and torment me for the next couple of hours?" I asked.

She thought about it and seemed on the verge of refusal. So I upped the ante.

"All you'd have to do is use the cuffs and quick lock/release straps to tie me down. Then you could arouse me to painful hardness every fifteen minutes or so," I soothed.

I tried the voice of sweet reason on her, "You know how you always push too hard and don't give yourself enough breaks," I tried the voice of sweet reason on her.

My heart was beginning to beat faster and my breath shortened as I could see her mull over this concept.

My stomach did a bit of a flip as she said "Strip!"

Fastest down to skin I ever did. I jumped into the easy chair and spread my legs over its arms. Then I pushed the back of the chair into a semi reclined position and raised hands above my head.

I sat quietly as she cuffed my ankle with a leather restraint and threaded the quick lock/release strap under the chair to the other side where she repeated her activity. My ankles were now effectively locked wide and comfortable.

She cuffed both my wrists with leather again (I have a thing for black leather). She hooked them together with another strap and then connected it to the strap under the chair which locked my ankles together.

A final tug on both straps and I was at her mercy.

The whole thing took less than five minutes and left me both quite helpless and completely available. Because the back of the chair declined slightly, her locking my wrists to my ankles had the effect of presenting my very available unit to her every whim.

I found my breathing coming in short, quick gasps and I was trembling slightly, with anticipation. My penis was already semi hard, at the thought of her cruel hands, and the relentless struggle she was going to put me through.

I could see that she was secretly pleased at my nudity, as well as my willingness to submit to her.

Her green eyes became glassy and her mouth was drawn into a sharp line, as she observed my helpless state. She absently drew her hair back to one side with casual disdain. This one gesture let me see how much she enjoyed this power exchange, yet she would have died before acknowledging it.

Normally, she tried to never let me see what she was feeling and if I hadn't been a very perceptive guy, I'd have gone on thinking she really cared about me (instead of the lifestyle I had led).

But now that I was helpless and available; the charade could end for a couple of hours. That I had suggested it, made it all that much sweeter.

Now, the struggle for power could be shown nakedly and in earnest.

Now she had an advantage I could not overcome (nor did I particularly want to, at that point).

Chapter Two

It Begins

"One more thing," she said calmly.

She went to the kitchen and I could hear her rummaging through the kitchen drawer. Returning with a roll of duct tape and scissors, she cut off a short length and approached me.

Bending toward me, she applied the tape to my closed mouth.

She warned me ominously "If the tape comes off; the games end."

Then she stepped back and put her hands on her tiny hips in a position of utter confidence and contempt.

She was going to have a good time at my expense. And I was going to entertain her with my struggles; whether I wanted to or not.

Even though we had not done anything like this before; I figured my tolerance for suffering would be much greater than her tolerance for dishing it out; I never worried about a safe word. In retrospect, it was an arrogantly stupid assumption on my part. I am fortunate that it ended as well as it did.

Going to the bedroom, she returned quickly with a large bottle of lubricant and a face cloth. She placed these on the table beside my chair for easy access later on.

"No point in messing up the furniture," she observed brightly.

Sitting on the end of the arm of the chair inclined the chair and had the effect of restricting me even further. But she saw this and it actually added to the intensity of the experience for both of us.

So, she sat on the edge of the arm chair and grasped my penis firmly and aggressively. Immediately, I felt aroused and slightly overwhelmed.

A few minutes of kneading my privates and stroking them brought about an iron hard erection. I felt both ashamed of this and proud that I could open to her in this way.

A few more minutes of gentle stroking brought about struggles on my part. It was inevitable that I would do this. I was learning to show her my passionate responses and I would have to keep doing it if I wanted her to play again.

Her cruel hands tormented me and she was obviously pleased at my reactions.

Then, getting up without a word or glance, she went to pack.

I gasped inwardly, at the shock of having her, first nearly on top of me; then walking away as I gave myself to her without reservation. The overall effect; left me both hard and feeling vulnerable.

I thought excitedly to myself "This is too hot!"

My eyes followed her as she went about the room, sorting and packing.

After a couple of minutes, it was apparent that she was going to ignore me. So I turned my attention to the T.V. directly in front of me. There was some movie on and I quickly allowed myself to become distracted by it.

"So far, so good!" I fervently hoped.

Things were going along in a predictably exciting way. Those rare times I had ever thought of submitting were, of course, tailor made by me. I was "topping from the bottom" and only in my mind. None the less, this situation was going right where I thought it would.

After fifteen minutes (according to the clock within my view); my tormentor returned. And I was helpless to do anything but submit to her cruel and calculating will.

Once again, she sat on the edge of the chair arm. Once again, this restricted me to a more rigid position.

She smiled ruthlessly down at my helpless and bound figure. I took a deep breath and readied myself to endure her indignities (and after all, I had asked for them).

She grasped my now semi hard unit with her right hand and stroked it maliciously. I inadvertently groaned and pulled with futility against my bonds.

Chapter Three

First Application

It was at this point that she stopped touching me momentarily. Then, she took the bottle of lubricant and squeezed a handful into her right palm.

She leaned over and placed the bottle back on the table. The she turned slightly toward me and grasp my very hard erection with her creamy right hand.

The cool and slippery feeling of her slick hand contrasted sharply with her aggressive manner. The whole thing was very arousing. My heightened position of helplessness, her slick hand and her calculating demeanour, almost ended everything, before it began.

It took a concerted effort of will not to shoot my load right then and there. Moreover, it showed and she seemed to relish it. Deliberately she ran her hand firmly and quickly over the length of my engorged and very sensitive penis, including the bulbous head of my member (which threatened to burst at her very touch).

I groaned beneath the gag and pulled helplessly while she watched. It was her task to torment me, and mine to show her how much it affected me.

Just when I thought I'd let go; she stopped touching me all together.

My eyes shot up to her, and I found a bemused smile on her face. She really seemed to enjoy this part of my suffering. She could raise my arousal and I could do nothing but be aroused by her.

After a couple of minutes; she started again and I was helpless against it.

"This is really, too good to be true!" I thought excitedly to myself.

Then her hand moved briskly from the base of my penis to the head of it, and without pause, she ran her hand up and over my sensitive glands. This elicited a spasm from me. I bucked against her hand and she smiled again.

It was an inadvertent reaction on my part but she took great delight in causing it, time and again.

That I grunted and moaned from behind my gag didn't seem to offend her, despite her admonishments. I got the distinct impression that she rather enjoyed the sounds of my futile struggle. That they further showed her position of absolute power over me was apparent to both of us.

I thrashed about within my restraints as she took her delight in tormenting her plaything. Her eyes were narrower and hotter than I'd ever seen them. Her half open mouth showed just a hint of a smile, as she made me buck and struggle. She bent to her task and all I could do was enjoy it.

I found I was both longing to please her and at the same time; do to her what she was doing to me.

Twice more she tormented me to the brink while she sat there, so completely in control. Each time she would stop before I climaxed.

Her eyes never left my privates except to roam to my face. It was as if she was telling me silently, that I was but her plaything.

Then she got up, wiped off her hands on the face cloth and walked away without a backward glance.

Chapter Four

The Rhythm

Again, my attention returned to the silly movie and away from my throbbing erection and the desired release.

Another fifteen minutes passed and again she returned. Once more, my unit had flagged and was only semi hard.

"So, laying down on the job, are you?" she questioned sarcastically.

"Well, let's see if we can't do something about that!" she snapped harshly.

She was obviously warming to her assignment, as I was to mine.

Sitting on the chair arm again produced a tightening of the ropes. And again I was even more helpless and available to her cruel whims. Later, I would find out just how cruel she could be.

Another palm full of lubricant on my erection and a few pulls had the desired effect for both of us. I was very hard and she was again rewarded by my helplessly aroused struggles.

This time she smiled a knowing smile, as I struggled against her cruel indignities.

"I remember what you like the most?" she said to me with an evil little grin.

My breathing was now coming in short sharp gasps and I felt more fear than desire, as I waited helplessly to hear what she would do next.

"It's the rhythm for you, slave!" She menaced sharply.

I groaned and tried to look away as she started.

"Oh no, you don't. Look at me!" she demanded, "Look at what I'm doing to you, slave!" she said with great authority and relish.

She'd never said anything about role playing before and the way she dragged out the last word made my stomach clutch. Gone was the repressed female who wanted nothing to do with the sensual side of marriage.

"Who was this person and what had they done with my wife?" I thought wryly.

My stomach did flip flops but I tilted my head slightly forward and did as she told me.

My erection ached and pulsed as she stroked it in the manner I had once told her worked best on me, once I was aroused to iron hardness.

"Two short fast strokes, immediately followed by a long slow one," I had said, "Then pause slightly and repeat."

I had admitted it to her in a casual conversation a couple of years earlier "Mostly, I am a top but every once in a while I feel like being a sub. I don't really want to do this but at the same time I sometimes feel like I need it. Oh, and I wouldn't want to come for a long time, first (were I to actually do this)."

I had found it to be a slightly uncomfortable topic, and I had conveniently forgotten the entire conversation, until now.

At the time I didn't really believe she'd ever be in a position to do anything about it, so I'd felt safe in divulging that little secret. Now my words had come back to haunt me and I was powerless to stop her. And what was truly horrifying, was that a part of me did not really want to.

A short and fast stroke followed another short and fast stroke which was then followed by a long slow grip which slid up the entire length of my throbbing and sensitive penis.

I gasp and moaned behind my gag while she watched my muted and restricted thrashing.

I felt my body giving into the insistent need she was cajoling out of me. I was merely her plaything, only a toy to be watched and amused by.

I was almost there when she stopped again. I looked at her questioningly, as she cleaned her hands but she seemed to ignore me, at first.

Then she snapped over her shoulder, as she walked away "That ought to hold you for a bit!"

She went off to continue packing now stating loudly and aggressively how very angry she was and how very "put out".

My erection called to her and while I hated that, I also wanted what she was doing to me, to continue.

Chapter Five

Forced Frenzy

Still another fifteen minutes went by. Then again, my struggles were to be on display for her. Over and over this went on, for the next two hours!

Finally, as the movie was reaching its climax, she returned and sat as she had before. But this time there was something different in her attitude.

Grabbing my now continuously hard erection for the umpteenth time, she quietly said to me "It's time, slave."

My pulse sounded loud in my ears and I seemed unable to catch my breath. Deliberately, her cruel hands worked their terrible magic upon my sensitive genitals.

"You may not come, until I tell you to," she said with great seriousness "If you do, I will punish you like this!"

Then she grasped the base of my hardened penis with one hand as she suddenly reared her other hand back and slapped my erection twice, quickly but contemptuously.

First it was a forehand that was followed by a stinging backhand. My erection softened slightly. I shrieked behind the gag as the pain of her unexpected blows lanced through me.

"Oh, and by the way, feel free to make any noise you want" she added maliciously, as she grinned at my suffering.

Suddenly, I remembered the other thing I had said to her in that conversation so long ago.

"My greatest fear and desire are the same. I need to be forced to orgasm and then, while my penis is still hard and sensitive, I need to have it stroked from its base to the top," I had confessed to her.

"The touch must be very soft and light or I'll jerk myself into a serious injury," I cautioned "Also, if I know its coming; that would heighten the intensity of the experience."

I looked up to her cruel face above my helpless and struggling body and my unspoken accusation hung between us.

"Yes" she confirmed "You'll be getting strokes after you come!"

Obviously, she hadn't forgotten.

I groaned and shook my head "What had I gotten myself into?" All my doubts rose to the surface and she saw this too.

"Oh, I'll only give you ten!" she cooed lightly, while a mischievous grin danced about the corners of her mouth.

I tried to tell her that I was too sensitive now; that she might hurt me and I wouldn't be able to move us the next day. But my gag made any intelligent conversation impossible.

I was nearly in a frenzy to stop this cruel train wreck I had engineered. But there was no backing down now. Not with the voice of logic nor reason, anyway.

She was caught up in her passion and it was obvious she wasn't going to listen to anything I had to say.

I had gotten myself into this and I was going to see it through; whether I wanted to or not.

Freed from her warning to remain silent, she soon had me grunting and moaning loudly in passion and terror.

At one point, as I neared the end, I shook my head in a blatant gesture to indicate I wasn't to be stroked! But she just smiled malevolently, nodded her assertion right back at me, and continued.

Oh, I was going to suffer for her amusement; of that there was no doubt. I was her plaything and I was going to climax and be tormented with the softest of caresses. She was really into this and there was nothing I could do about it.

It was too much. All of it was simply too intense and I suddenly found myself racing down that hard path to its violent and predictable end. I pulled hard on my restraints and leaned toward her as much as I could (and that wasn't much). My penis was full of delicious sensations and wild desire. I was an animal, grunting with each stroke. I was filled with both needing and fearing what was to come next.

When I climaxed, it was hard, violent and I roared as I shot my load. Up onto my chest it went. On and on, my erection, jerking up and down as it pulsed rhythmically. My eyes watched her hand move along the length of my oh-so-sensitive shaft with utter domination.

At the moment she was leaving the head of my erection alone but I knew that would change momentarily.

As climaxes go; it was one of the most intense I ever experienced and when it was over, it left me spent and exhausted. It also left my still hard unit very much available to her manipulations.

Worse, I was still under her control and I had made it very clear that when I was being stroked that I was to be shown "no mercy".

Her face had gone cold and her eyes glowed victoriously, as she pumped my member. She drank in my surrender to her cruel manipulations.

Now I was in for it.

Chapter Six

Strokes

My head flopped back onto the chair and I relaxed slightly while staring off into space. My respite wasn't to last long.

She asked, as if from what seemed like far away "Are you ready?"

My head jerked forward and my wide eyes pleaded with her. I mumbled my protests through the gag.

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bySpencerAlanMacLeod© 4 comments/ 56050 views/ 10 favorites

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