Allyson's On-Line Dates

On that last point, Jonathan must have read my mind. He pulled out his cock, which felt wonderful as it slid past my sphincter, and walked over to one of his many shelves of toys. He picked out something and brought it around where I could see it, holding it out for inspection and approval. It looked like a small bullet vibrator, with a short strap protruding from each side. Each strap ended in a vicious-looking alligator clip. I had never seen anything quite like it, but it didn't take much imagination to figure out roughly where it was going to go and what it would do. I nodded approval.

He walked to the back end of me again. The bullet fit nicely against my clit. Then I felt the clips bite into my labia. Owww! Those things were really strong, and their metal teeth were anything but gentle, but I guess they had to be strong to get a good hold on a wet, slimy pussy lip. They certainly held the bullet firmly in place, and the pain of the clips mingled with all the other sensations that were fighting with each other in my body to fire up my nervous system.

Jonathan turned it on, and I gasped and jerked in my straps. Man, for such a little thing, it was powerful! I had a mini-orgasm just from the surprise of feeling its powerful buzz right on my clit. I lowered my face into the face rest, and Jonathan waited for me to come down from the orgasm, then pressed his cock, freshly lubed yet again, against my asshole. This time it slid easily past my already-primed sphincter. He went back to his rhythmic thrusting, and this time, each thrust made the clips pull on my pussy lips. It was just the right amount of pain to season the sensations coming from my rectum and clit.

I felt another orgasm building slowly but powerfully all through my body. Each thrust, each pull of the clamps on my lips, combined with the powerful sensations of the vibrator on my clit to produce wave after wave of pleasure. I was making little pleasure-screams through my nose as each thrust drove my arousal higher. The straps around my body, the gag in my mouth -- everything worked together to put me in sub heaven. I bit down on the gag so hard I was afraid I was going to bite the stuffer right off it, but it held. Jonathan obviously didn't buy cheap equipment.

Then Jonathan added the final piece: the crop was back in his hand, and he landed a solid smack on my back with each thrust. A few of those and I came with what would have been a blood-curdling scream if it hadn't been mostly smothered by the gag. I threw back my head, arched my back as far as the straps would allow, and screamed and screamed as the orgasm went on and on in waves. Then I collapsed my face onto the face rest.

Jonathan turned off the vibe so it wouldn't overdrive my already over-stimulated pussy. I barely felt the pain as he took the clips off and the blood rushed back into my tortured pussy lips. I was deep in subspace, barely conscious with my eyes rolled back in my head. I don't know where Jonathan finished up his ejaculation, since he hadn't had time to finish inside me -- maybe into a cloth, since we had already discussed the fact that I didn't much care for having semen sprayed all over me. I remember him pulling out the gag, cradling my face and tightly holding one of my still-bound hands. He was talking gently to me, although I have no memory of what he said. I just remember being immensely glad to hear his voice and feel his hands as I floated in my pink cloud of bliss.

Jonathan undid all my straps, and eventually I came down enough that I was able to swing my legs off the bench and shakily stand up. I just kept whispering, "Oh my God, Oh my God," over and over. Jonathan helped me up the stairs to his bedroom and turned back the covers on what looked like the most comfortable bed in the world. I laid down and he tucked me in, then crawled in behind me and just held me. I don't know whether I fell asleep or passed out, but for me the world was gone, gone, gone.

5. Breakfast of Champions

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone. I still had a faint smile on my face, and I felt remarkably good considering the wringer I'd been through. My asshole and pussy felt well-used, but not sore, and the overall effect was just lingering hints of post-coital bliss. The only problem was that I couldn't move my hands from behind my back.

Well, this is interesting, I said to myself as I kicked my way out of the covers and stood up. I backed up to a full-length mirror and noted that, sure enough, my wrists were buckled into leather cuffs joined by a short chain. While I was at it, I inspected my back and ass and found absolutely no trace of damage. Any redness had gone away overnight, and there was no sign of welts or bruises. I was impressed with Jonathan's skill, considering how much he'd laid into me the night before.

I noted that the clothes I'd left downstairs were now hanging neatly from a hook on the closet door. My panties, which had been somewhat the worse for wear by the time I'd taken them off last night, looked as though they had been washed, and were neatly folded on a chair. I could smell faint aromas of coffee and bacon wafting up the stairs, and my stomach rumbled a bit -- it had been quite a while since dinner and my filet mignon had pretty much worn off. But there was something I needed to take care of first.

I walked into a large and elegant en-suite bathroom. The house had obviously been built quite recently, in the era when builders had finally realized that nothing sells a house more quickly than a large and fancy bedroom and bathroom. The toilet seat was up -- I guess that was Jonathan's one concession to a male-centric household. I used a foot to push it down, and had a very satisfying pee.

I wasn't sure how I'd wipe, but there was just enough slack in the cuffs to allow me to reach first the toilet paper and then my pussy. I pushed the flush handle with a foot and turned to the next problem. I wasn't sure if I could manage to wash my hands, since it would be awkward to reach the tap, but there was a bottle of sanitizer on the counter -- a habit instilled by the pandemic, maybe -- and I made do with a shot of that. Then I followed my nose downstairs.

When I walked into the kitchen, I saw that Jonathan hadn't bothered to get dressed either. Nice of him to keep me company, I thought. "Good morning," he said. "I was just thinking of coming up and getting you for breakfast, but I'm glad to see you're up. I didn't like to wake you -- I figured you needed your sleep to recover from last night." I noticed that he had his frying pans on the two back burners -- good idea, I thought, considering what was dangling in front of the stove.

I half-turned and indicated the cuffs. "What's up with these?" I asked.

"I put those on you early this morning when you were still sound asleep. Since you're such a bondage slut, I thought you'd enjoy waking up in them."

"They do add something to the experience of waking up in a man's bed, I'll give you that. Very thoughtful." He put two cups of coffee and two plates on the table, and I sat down before one of them. The plate held bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs with little orange and green bits that I guessed were cheese and chives. I was impressed all over again -- expert flogger and able to cook, too. I was thinking that maybe this guy was a keeper.

"How do you suggest I deal with that?" I asked. He picked up my cup of coffee and held it to my lips. I slurped a sip, since it was still pretty hot. Excellent coffee, and much appreciated.

"Guatemala Antigua," he said. "I get it by mail order from a little mom-and-pop roasting company. It only costs a dollar or two more than supermarket coffee, and well worth it, I think." He held up a piece of bacon and I bit off half of it.

He fed me my whole breakfast in between taking bites of his own. It was certainly the strangest breakfast I'd ever had, but sitting there naked and handcuffed being fed bite by bite was almost unbearably sexy. I couldn't believe that I was actually getting horny again so early in the day.

"Let's go in the other room and have another cup of coffee before we plan our day," he said. He obviously didn't want our extended date to be over any sooner than I did. We went into the living room and he gestured at a comfortable-looking but fairly straight cushioned chair with wooden arms. I couldn't help noticing the dildo sticking up from the middle of the seat, already glistening with lube.

"Wow, you don't miss a trick, do you," I said with a smile. I lowered myself carefully into the chair and the dildo slid smoothly into my pussy. Little ripples of pleasure went though my pussy again as the dildo stretched it out. He unbuckled the cuffs and used them to fasten one wrist to the arm of the chair. Then he produced another set of cuffs with about a foot-long chain to fasten the other wrist. He placed a freshly filled cup of coffee on a side table next to me, and I found that I could just reach it and bend down to drink it myself. He fastened a lap belt around me to make sure I stayed firmly down on the dildo.

We had quite a pleasant chat. We reminisced about the best parts of our scene last night. "I loved it when you pinched my taint between fingers and thumb." I used my almost-free hand to mime the gesture. "I've never had that before. Where did you come up with it?"

"It just sort of happened on day. I was finger-fucking a woman from behind and I knew she liked things in her ass, and my thumb wasn't in use at the time, so it just seemed natural to slip it in there. She loved it, and I've incorporated it into my repertoire ever since."

"I'm sure you know how much I enjoyed what you did at the end. Cock in my ass, vibe on my clit, and a crop on my back -- you really piled it on there. I don't remember cumming that hard in my life. My BDSM dates have mostly been pretty basic -- tie me up, spank me or hit me with a paddle, fuck me, forget me. I've never met anyone with such a variety of creative techniques. Or devices. That bondage bench is getting me wet just thinking about it. Of course, this dildo up me might have something to do with it, too.

"By the way, I really appreciated the way you took care of me afterward. I was so out of it that I really needed your help to come down. The last one I was with, the asshole I told you about, just walked out and left me to get my head straight by myself. Although in his case, it was probably just as well."

We also chatted about all the other sorts of things that people talk about when they're trying to get to know each other -- where I'd gone to college, what I'd studied, what I did for a living, and the same sorts of things with him. It was very casual -- you would hardly think I was handcuffed to a chair with a dildo in my snatch.

"What would you like to do next? Did you see anything else in my dungeon that intrigued you?"

"Well, those pullies looked interesting. I've only done suspension once or twice, and I really enjoyed how helpless it made me feel. Combine that with some more pain play and some interesting stimulation and you can probably blow me out of the water all over again. Although you'd have to go some to improve on what you did last night. But frankly, what I really need right now is a shower. You obviously wiped me off, but I still feel sticky with sweat and cum."

"How thoughtless of me. The first thing I did this morning when I got up was jump in the shower. Of course you'd want one after all the oozing and squirting we did last night." He put down his empty coffee cup, unbuckled me from the chair, and helped me stand up -- not as easy as usual with the dildo up me. He cuffed my wrists behind my back again and we walked back up the stairs to the en-suite bathroom.

He adjusted the water and climbed in with me. I wondered if he'd take the cuffs off so I could wash, but instead he took the opportunity to wash me, slowly and tenderly, from head to toe. Naturally, he spent extra time on my pussy and asshole, and I felt a tingle of sexual thrill working my way up my body as he made absolutely, positively sure that there was no dried lube or body fluids he'd missed.

My long, thick hair was a total mess. He thoroughly massaged shampoo, then conditioner through it, and I recognized the bottles as an expensive salon brand. Good, I thought. Hair like mine needs extra love after it's been through what mine had been through.

As he finished rinsing out my hair, I realized that he had been getting really hard ever since he'd washed my breasts and then my pubic region. I looked down at his cock, smiled, and said, "Would you like me to help you with that? We didn't get a chance to finish our blow job last night." He adjusted the shower head so I could kneel down without drowning myself, and I took his cock in my mouth. I appreciated how absolutely clean it was -- one of the side benefits of sucking a man off in the shower. I also noticed what I had been too in-the-moment to notice last night: his whole pubic area was shaved clean. I really appreciated not getting a mouthful of hair when he got his cock all the way down my throat.

We weren't trying to rush ahead to the next part of the action this time, and we took our time, face-fucking gently and with feeling, me savouring the feel of his cock in my throat while I felt his arousal build and build. When he came in my mouth, his load wasn't particularly large, which wasn't surprising considering what he'd done twelve or so hours ago, but it tasted good -- warm, salty, with just a touch of sweetness. Every man's semen tastes a bit different, and I particularly liked the taste of Jonathan's.

We rinsed off the cum that I hadn't been able to catch in my mouth or lick up with my tongue, turned off the water, and climbed out of the shower. Jonathan towelled himself off and then dried my body. He took a comb from a collection he had in a cupboard, selecting a coarse-toothed one that would be good for picking out the tangles that my hair had gotten itself full of. While he worked the comb, he blow-dried me with the other hand.

"You weren't a hairdresser in a previous life, were you?"

He laughed. "No. I wish. But my sister had long, full hair when we were both teenagers, and she used to talk me into helping her detangle it and blow it dry. We didn't do it naked, I'm sorry to report, but it taught me how to work with women's hair. She used to reward me by talking her girlfriends into going on dates with me. I still really like working with hair."

He finished by giving my hair a thorough brushing out. He didn't try to style it, since that wouldn't last past our next scene anyway. He just pulled it back into a long ponytail that would keep it from hanging in my face.

He ran a hand over my pussy. My pubic hair grows as fast as my head hair, and I was already getting a bit of stubble where my smooth Brazilian had been. He opened the cupboard again and took a fresh disposable razor from a package. "Put your foot up," he said, pointing to the toilet. I obliged, and he lathered me up with shave gel and expertly fixed me up. He could lash people with floggers and riding crops, but he could also be extremely gentle and careful with sharp instruments when working around delicate body parts.

As a final step in my morning repair process, he took a fresh toothbrush from a package. I noticed that he had a small stack of them in the cupboard. I like a man who thinks ahead about guests, I thought. I'll bet he even has some menstrual products squirrelled away somewhere, just in case a guest gets caught short.

He put one hand gently on my shoulder while he reached around with the other from behind to brush my teeth. Having someone else brush my teeth for me was the weirdest part of the morning so far. But it felt intimate in the same weird way that everything had since I had gotten out of bed. This was getting to be one memorable weekend.

6. Afternoon with Jonathan

As we came downstairs, I felt clean, refreshed, thoroughly tidied up, and horny as hell. His hands had been on me for most of the morning, washing, shaving, brushing -- nothing overtly sexual, but intimate and cumulatively very, very sexy in his attentiveness to my body. He had gotten his rocks off in my mouth. Now I badly needed some release for me.

We walked into the dungeon and I took a better look at the pullies hanging from the ceiling. There were two of them set about four feet apart. Each ended with a sturdy karabiner clip that looked as though it would safely hold anything you cared to attach to it.

"Wrists or ankles?"

I thought a minute. Inverted suspension adds an extra element of helplessness that I've found really sexy, but I wasn't sure I felt like dealing with it right then. "Wrists, I think." Jonathan uncuffed my hands and put wide suspension cuffs on my wrists, and another pair of cuffs on my ankles. The dungeon floor had a number of holes here and there that I hadn't paid attention to before; now Jonathan screwed sturdy-looking eyebolts into two of them and attached them with short chains to my ankle cuffs. The chains were slack, but I had a strong feeling that they wouldn't stay like that for long.

Then he attached the clips on the two pullies to my wrist cuffs and started to pull the chains through the system of compound pullies. My arms were slowly stretched out over my head and spread apart as the pullies put tension on them in different directions. My body slowly lifted and the slack disappeared from the ankle chains as my feet left the ground. Eventually I was pulled into a tight spread-eagle position with my legs apart, my feet about a foot off the floor.

"Are you still okay with being gagged?"

"Totally. You know the signs if I need to be in touch with you."

"Before I stop your mouth, two more things. How do you feel about electrosex? Violet wands, shocker vibes, that sort of thing?"

"Kendra and Kev introduced me to it at the resort, and I've been dying to try it again ever since."

"And do you trust me with this?" He held out a wicked-looking single-tail signal whip. It wasn't an Indiana Jones-style bullwhip, just a four-foot dungeon whip, but it looked like braided leather, and clearly was no toy.

"A day ago, the answer would have been no. I always hide mine when I have a dom over that I don't know very well. But the fact that I have one tells you that I like them as long as they're in the right hands. When I looked at my back this morning, I knew that yours are the right hands."

"OK, then, let the games begin." He went over to his gag shelf. "Let's try something a little different today." He came back with a medium sized ball gag and a roll of bright red tape. I opened my mouth so he could stuff in the gag. It filled my mouth very effectively, but I could still partly close my lips over it. He buckled the gag, then stuck one end of the tape to my cheek and unrolled it over my mouth and behind my head, flipping up my pony tail as he came around the back. I could tell it was bondage tape, the kind that sticks to itself but doesn't stick much to anything else, so I wouldn't need to worry about getting any stray bits of hair out of it. He did about three turns so I was securely wrapped from just under my nose to my chin. Speaking was definitely over.

He walked behind me with the whip and waited theatrically to let the tension build. I was beginning to wonder whether he had decided not to use it after all, when I heard it whistle through the air and felt it land on my back with a loud crack. I jerked in the chains and made a little yelp behind the gag, but as I had expected, Jonathan knew what he was doing with it. He had cracked it so only the popper on the end hit my back. It stung like fire, but I knew it wasn't breaking any skin or leaving any marks beyond a small red stripe that would disappear as fast as the marks from last night had done. I've been hit with enough whips to know the difference between impact play and potential damage. I held my hand out flat but still, in the "just right" sign.