A Nightingale Bell

I softly whisper, my breath warm in your ear. I listen to you mumble something in your sleep as you turn your face towards my voice, your lips softly brushing my cheek. I whisper again, this time nuzzling you gently behind your ear.

You're still murmuring as I watch your face and body slowly come awake. I can see you eyelids flutter as they struggle to open against the soft black cloth binding them in darkness, against the folds of sleep. You begin to move, disorientated, the silk bonds cutting tight into your wrists as you tense, your first instinct to fight.

My hand splays against your chest as you struggle again. The weight of my palm and my voice in your ear relaxing you slowly until you sink back into the bed sheets. Cocooned by the warmth of a restful sleep interrupted.

I feel and hear the breath rush from your body as I straddle your hips, the weight of my body pressing against your pelvis. I can already gauge the strength of your arousal as I sit there waiting for you to come fully awake and alert to your situation. You groan as I move against you, the only sensations my weight and heat on your hips. I feel your upper body tense as you test the bonds around your wrists, but I have tied them well. The softness of the silk turning harsh as you tug at the knots, pulling them tighter, testing again.

Leaning forward I run my hands over your biceps, feeling them relax under my fingertips. Despite being bound you have enough room to move against me slightly, your arms not held taut but with enough room to bend sufficiently. I don't want you to cramp, this was going to be a long evening. As I feel you relax I move back, my body slowly rocking over your hips, against your now straining erection. Your moans now audible and delicious to my ears. I want to take you now, my own arousal peaking, but tonight is not about me, I sigh lightly as I rub against you once more, the heat between my legs unfulfilled as I move away from your body. I hear the disappointment in your throat as I move.

I return quickly. You can feel my weight rest beside you on your bed. You shiver as something cold and steel moves against the exposed portion of your stomach, your muscles tensing as I play, my hand tracing the instrument along lines in your flesh. Your brain fumbles trying to work out what it is I am playing with but you haven't a clue until the blades open and you hear the sound of cloth giving way to steel. The cool of the blade running up the centre of your chest and over your shoulders as I cut your night shirt from you. A seamstress in reverse.

My hands move quickly to disrobe you, fingertips moving over now bare flesh, tugging at the shreds of your shirt and throwing them to the floor. The nails of my free hand running teasingly down over you now bare chest as I move the scissors towards your briefs. You tense again, the feel of the steel slipping under the band, the blades cold against you hip. I am sympathetic as I cut, your erection softening as the thought of mishap enters you mind, but I am skillful and in but moments you are naked beneath my eyes. I stand back from the bed, admiring your body, the full moon, blood orange shines through the window lighting your skin in its glow. My eyes moving over you, my mouth watering as I take in each appetizer you offer. I am so damn wet I can hardly stand it.

The longer I stand there admiring you the more uncomfortable I watch you become. There is no sound in the sleeping house apart from your hitched breath. My own low breath kept as quiet as I am able, hiding from you in the dark and in the silence. I watch you test the bonds again and again. The waiting making you impatient. You're practically growling in frustration before I act.

The touch of the feather is fleeting...

Your every sense turns towards it. Your moan of dissatisfaction is endearing as I move back into the shadow again and wait. The feather becoming my fingertips when you look as though you have given up any hope of ever feeling again. I trace the line of your jaw. I watch your nostrils flare. Your lips part as I move the tip of the feather along your cupid's bow. Your breath stirring the plumes. Your breath stops as I drift its light weight up the inside of your thigh, over your scrotum, along your shaft. You moan again when it's gone.

And once more you are made to wait.

Your cock erect and twitching slightly, I lick my lips every time I allow myself to look, flushed with desire. You can't see but my hand is between my legs, rubbing gently. Urgently as I watch you helpless. The smell of my arousal heavy in your closed room. I am almost on the brink of my first orgasm when I see you move again, once more testing the ties... I growl. Your lack of patience disturbing me. This time you hear me move and I am beside you quickly. Your arms relaxing as I speak.

"Open your mouth."

I whisper roughly. My arousal making my voice heavy. You part your lips slowly, the tip of your tongue pink as it flicks against your lips. I place my fingers against your mouth.

"Clean them." It is a demand.

Your tongue is soft and warm as it traces the line of my fingers. Your lips sucking each digit inside the warm cavern of your mouth before you are licking them again.

"How do I taste?"

I ask as you finish. The last word drawn out on my tongue as your own disappears back behind your lips. I am running the wet tips of my fingers down over your chest as you are answering. My attention caught by your nipples, mere buds in the chill of the evening. My fingers seeking them out, nails raking over the sensitive flesh before I pinch them slightly, and then raking again.

"You robbed me of an orgasm."

I whisper again, and again pinching slightly at your flesh.

"I think you should apologise."

On this last word I pinch your nipples hard, pulling the tips away from your body, rolling them between my fingertips. You are almost swearing as your chest tries to follow my hands, your back arching off the bed, hands clenched.

"God... I'm sorry..." You stammer.

"God? I am not your god... but close enough."

I release your nipples as you fall back against the sheets.

"Because you robbed me of an orgasm, I expect you to return it, in full, do you understand?"

I smile as I watch you nod, your cock twitching slightly as you feel my weight on the bed again. The feel of the riding crop under your chip is unexpected as I lean over you.

"Out loud."

"Yes... yes I understand."

"Do not disappoint me."

I am harsh. I don't like to be. You are my favourite. But you are insolent. I want you tonight, to bend just a little. I move again, my thighs straddling your head, just inside your arms, pulling the bonds tight. I lower myself over your mouth as you strain upwards to meet me.

The sensation of your mouth on my flesh leaves me breathless. I can feel the heat of your tongue and the wetness of your saliva despite the heat and moisture already between my legs. As you suck my clit between your lips I know I am not going to last long. I lean over your body, my weight resting on my hands now either side of your waist. I rock against your mouth. I can't help but moan as your tongue invades my body, diving inside me. I am so close I am practically screaming, my lips tight and nostrils flaring as I try to remain composed.

I can smell your precum, feel your cock straining just inches below my face as I lean over you, you can feel my breath on your flesh. My tongue as warm and moist as your own as I lick over your stomach towards your cock. Dipping softly into your bellybutton and nibbling my way down over your hip. The head of your cock is swollen, a beautiful almost angry red, tipped with moisture.

My mouth is watering as I watch another bead of precum gather in anticipation of my tongue. I hesitate but for a moment before I take your cock between my lips. My tongue swirling around the tip, tasting precum and salt before taking you deeply to the back of my throat. I hear you moan into my pussy, feel its vibrations against my clit as I slowly move back up your shaft. I am enjoying the taste of you as your cock slow fucks my mouth.

I rest my weight on your stomach as I lay against you. My breasts pressed flat, my arms stretching down your legs, my nails scratching a path up the inside of your thighs to your scrotum, my fingers curling around your balls as I move my mouth up and down the shaft of your cock. I hum softly, a random tune as I suckle at your flesh, the vibrations adding stimulation to the heat and wetness of my mouth. I am almost forgetting to breathe as your desire to cum and your tongue against my clit wash over me in waves. And then I am cumming... it is unexpected.

I don't know what you have done to spur this sudden release but I am there and then I am screaming around your cock. My hips pressed against your mouth, my thighs tightening around your head. I am probably smothering you but I don't care, you keep licking me as I shudder above you. Your cock forgotten as I press up onto my hands and knees, my only thought to move away from your tortuous mouth dragging me through my orgasm. The bonds snapping as you make to follow me. Your chin wet with my juices.

I have fallen to your side as I ride out my orgasm. My toes tingle pleasantly as I lie there quietly, slowly steadying my breath. I can see your smirk as you listen to me recover. I cuss inwardly, my self-control in need of work. I look down at your cock, still hard, throbbing, wet with my saliva and your own arousal. My fingertips on my free hand tracing up your thigh, my nails gently running up along your shaft through the wetness.

Your smile disappears as I wrap my fingers around your shaft and slowly start to milk your cock. Your moans deep from your chest as I lean over your face, licking over your jaw line, over your lips, tasting myself on your skin. You make to kiss me but I am already moving away, my lips tracing down your neck, suckling ever so slightly as I met your shoulder with my mouth. My free hand is scratching over your chest, tugging playfully at your nipples as your cock fucks my hand, wet sounds reach my ears along with your soft voice as I play with you.

"Please..."

"Please?"

I ask. My hand moving faster, my fingers tightening ever so slightly.

"Please, may I cum?"

I smile but you can't see. Your hips move to meet my hands thrust as I bring you closer to the brink. I can see your toes begin to curl as your breath become shallow. You're close... I am wondering how close I can take you before I let go...

"No."

I smile again as I say it, my hand slows again, once again a soft milking motion as I watch your body begin to relax, your breathing deepening as I play. Your mouth pouting. Once again you're pulling at the bonds and I remove my hand from your cock as you fight.

You freeze as you feel the tip of the riding crop on the inside of your knee. I am tapping your thigh. Gently. A reminder of who is actually in charge.

"You were doing so well... and now you disappoint me".

I keep my voice low as I move from the bed, the crop never leaves you, it traces along the lines of your body as I circle the bed. Surveying you. As I circle your nipple with the leather thong you bite your lip. I click my tongue as though I have made a decision, and it is not in your favour.

"You're weak."

The crop is tracing your bicep and you tense as though the show of muscle will make me retract the statement.

"Don't believe me?"

I ask, my eyebrow raised. Walking along side the bed I drag my nails down your left side, down your chest, your ribs to your waist.

"You are weak."

I repeat, as if in agreement with myself.

"You fight against nothing... you want to cum?"

"Yes... "

Your voice breaks as you answer me.

"Hmm I can't hear you?"

You cough to clear your throat.

"Yes." You state, clearer.

"Yes." I repeat.

As though I am thinking it over. I move away from you. You hear nothing until you hear the slight ring of a bell.

"Do you hear that?" I asked, making the noise again.

"Yes."

I move until I am pressed up against your side. My naked leg draped over your thigh. I make the noise again.

"This, is a nightingale bell, and it will make you strong. Would you like to know how?"

I feel you hesitate... I am not usually one for such creativity. Preferring the immediate satisfaction of hard cock I don't usually go to such elaborate extremes.

"Yes."

"A nightingale is a flighty creature."

I explain as I move again, this time straddling your chest. I can feel your chest hair tickling the insides of my thighs as I lean forward over your head to your bonds. You feel a soft tug as I attach the bell.

"The slightest movement... will send them dancing."

I tap the bonds lightly to demonstrate and the soft tinkling begins almost immediately.

I look down at you, bound, blindfolded, your lips slightly parted as you wait. I move back a little, placing my nipple at your mouth, feeding you my flesh. Your mouth greedy, sucking at my erect bud, your teeth grazing softly and then with more force as I moan and push against your chest. I feel you flick against my nipple with your tongue before I am dragging myself away, the threat of orgasm receding as I do. You are not the only one who can learn.

"The game..." I smile as you move slightly and the bell rings.

"The game..." I begin again after the sound has died, "Is one of control. You are to control yourself at all times. If you are successful then you get your wish. You may cum. However..."

I move away from the bed again and return with the crop, running it slowly down your side.

"Should you give into weakness and the bell rings." I tapped the bell for emphasis.

"I stop and where there was the promise of an orgasm there will be punishment. Are we clear?"

"Punishment?"

You voice breaks, nervousness or arousal I can't tell which.

"You are a weak creature... already resigned to your fate... perhaps you are not worth my time after all..."

Sighing I remove the crop from your flesh and move away. You voice is low but I hear it clear enough.

"No, wait... please."

"Yes?"

"Please..." The decision made. "May I cum?"

I tap your knee with the crop as I move back towards you.

"Bend your knees and open your legs."

You look confused. I am impatient as I wait.

"I will not ask again."

You nod slowly, drawing your knees up and spreading your legs. You are beautiful. I watch you for a moment, letting the anticipation grow. I can see your cock straining. Your head cocked to one side as you listen for me. The position I have you in one of vulnerability. Your most sensitive places exposed to my touch, to my eyes. I feel a drop of my juices run down my thigh as I watch you. You make me so wet. So hot and wet and eager... I can hardly breathe.

I put the crop on the bed as I move towards you; you feel my weight as I crawl between your legs. My breath warm and moist as I lean over you, my mouth moving over the inside of your thigh to the soft sensitive tissue of your groin. My tongue darting out in short light licks as I make my way towards your scrotum. You're tense. I can feel your energy from where I sit, comfortable, between your legs. You're like a mouse trap waiting to be sprung. The bell sits silent, your breathing is deep and measured as though you are counting as you inhale, counting as you exhale. I smile as my mouth descends over your skin, sucking one your balls inside my mouth, ever so gently.

"Fuck."

Your voice is beautiful in arousal and shock as I lick over your flesh, swollen from desire. I let it fall from my lips as I take the other. Sucking gently, my mouth always moving. A current of warm wet flesh around your balls. One after the other until fuck has become your mantra... still the bell has not rung.

My hands press against your hamstrings, pushing you to open yourself up further, my tongue licking over your skin, the soft line of flesh between your thighs and your groin, over your scrotum, dipping wetly between the globes of your arse.

My teeth are what you first feel along your shaft, followed quickly by my lips. I suckle along your length until I reach the tip and lick over your straining flesh. Your cock jumps a little, as if inviting to take you into my mouth...

"Fuck... please."

You beg as I hesitate, your breath hitching slightly, almost a pant. My fingers curl around your balls as I take your cock deep within my mouth, in one long thrust, burying you inside warmth and wetness and pressure. I hear the bell ring...

You are moaning as I let your cock fall from my mouth.

"Dammit!"

You whisper, almost angry, clearly frustrated. The crop is in my hand as I move away from your cock, from between your legs. I am off the bed as you start to move your legs. The crop stops against your thigh and you freeze.

"Don't move." I whisper. "You disappoint me again."

I withdraw the crop as I walk alongside the bed. Watching you, the bell still gently ringing as you shift your weight. The leather thong is under your chin ceasing your fidgeting. I press up lightly, your neck arching as you move your head in accordance with the pressure.

"Weak."

You are shaking your head as you hear that word.

"No?"

The leather crop is dragging down the centre of your chest to rest on your belly button, Just above your cock. The bell trembles.

"No." You answer. Steadying yourself.

"No..."

You wait.

I wait.

You do not move again. Slowly the bell stills to silence.

I tap the crop gently against your skin before I straddle your hips, your cock nestled between the cheeks of my arse. I rub against it lightly. Enjoying the velvet softness of your shaft on my naked pussy. The handle of the crop is suddenly against your teeth.

"Bite down."

I order and you oblige, holding the crop in your mouth as a lover would a rose. The strike of the match and the flare of light causes you to flinch, I hear you begin to talk around the crop in your mouth.

"Shhhh if you do not suffer in silence my pet, it will be the crop you feel."

Behind your blindfold you do not see the soft flickering of the candle, you can not see what is to come. All you can feel is the wetness and the heat and my weight on your hips. I lean back onto your thighs as the first drop of wax falls to mark your chest. You intake of breath is exquisite and I moan as your cock rubs against my clit.

You have never embraced my love of candles. They are so sensual to me, the flame, the heat, the beads of melted wax that fall like rain drops, until suddenly they are a burst of open heat on trembling skin, frozen almost in an instant once far enough from the fire... the perfect metaphor for passion. I smiled as I watched the candle burn, my clit throbbing in unison with the flicker of the flame, how I longed to be the one beneath the taper, to be the one marked by the path of heat. I smile again as I feel your body start, another drop marking your skin. No you have never embraced my love of candles.

Tonight however the candle I use is a special blend of cacao butter and oils, soft and delicate, slow, low burning. I swivel the taper in my fingers allowing the wax to pool slightly before I move the candle to a new, unmarked part of your flesh. I hold the candle high, the flame in my line of sight. The drop from the flame to your bare chest cooling the wax slightly before it marks your skin. Unlike true wax however the end result is not the effect of hot snowflakes; it remains fluid once warmed, the drops gathering in the hollow of your breast plate. Body oil perfectly heated waiting for my hands. You whimper softly as yet another drop falls and you feel my free hand move through the oil on your chest and across your skin.