Blind and Bound

Cold air rushes across my body. I try to open my eyes, only to find that I cannot see. I try to move my arms, my feet, my hands. I cannot. My mouth, too, cannot move, stretched around a ball.

A hand. On my breast. Circling softly, slowly towards my nipple. I can feel that my nipple has already tightened, the skin gathering under this phantom hand. I tell myself that it's the cold that has my skin drawing together, but I could not tell you whether or not I was lying to myself.

Slowly, so slowly, I wait, dreading for the hand to finally reach my nipple. It is the longest moment of my life as I try to convince myself that I do not want this hand to touch the most sensitive part of my breast. Closer, closer. . . closer still.

THWACK!

Bright, hot pain. I scream fruitlessly into whatever gag I am wearing.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Three more strikes, and my back is arching off the bed, my body trying desperately to escape the unexpected pain. The pain awakens me entirely and I realize what I had missed before in my dream-like state: my hands and elbows are bound behind me, pulling my shoulders back uncomfortably and pushing out, I'm sure, my breasts obscenely; my legs are tied towards the end of the bed, leaving my legs spread and the rest of me exposed; there is fabric over my eyes and some sort of ball gag holding my jaw open; and I am completely naked.

Panicked and fully awake, I scream despite my gag. I pull desperately at my hands and legs, even though the pain is almost unbearable as I pull against the ropes restraining me.

Several more strikes rain down on me, this time on both of my breasts. Even though my brain has already determined that it's no use, my body continues to struggle, trying to escape the pain.

"Stop it," a voice says so quietly I almost don't hear it. Instantly, my body stills, every sense attuned for what comes next. "You need to be still, or you'll hurt yourself." The voice, definitely a man, chuckles to himself, "That's my job now," as I once again feel his hands on my breasts.

He cups one in each large hand, squeezing them like I have often seen people squeezing loaves of bread to determine their freshness. "These are mine now," he says, and I can feel his lips on my left breast while his hand continues to fondle my right. Much like he did with his hand, I can feel him slowly circle his way towards my nipple, dragging his tongue and leaving wet kisses as he goes.

Anticipation and dread curl in my stomach. He moves slowly, giving me time to fully feel his tongue and his lips on each spot of my breasts before trailing to the next spot. So enraptured am I by what he is doing to my left breast, I almost forget about the hand on my right. Just as his lips would have finally touched my nipple, he stops. I know he is still close because I can feel his breath on my nipple and, almost against my will, my chest arches even further away from my bound hands, reaching for his touch.

Chest heaving, I cannot believe what I am doing. This man has gagged me, blindfolded me, gagged me, hit me, and I am straining for his touch. What is wrong with me? A whimper escapes the gag and I could not tell you whether it was desperation for my situation, or desperation for him to finally touch my nipple as tenderly as he has been touching the rest of my breast.

After what seems like ages and, yet, only seconds, he suddenly envelops my nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard into the hot, wet recess of his mouth.. I should feel disgusted, enraged, violated. And I am, but, I also want more. My body wants more, and as I once again lift my chest towards him, a bright, hot ball begins to form in my stomach. He releases my left breast and bring his arm around and under me, between my back and arms. His hand seems to span my entire upper back as he pulls me further into his mouth.

His other hand comes to rest on my stomach and hip, grabbing at the flesh there. I'm once again struck by how large his hands are. How small I am. I feel covered and conquered.

Almost as quickly as he took my breast, he lets go, only to blow softly on the wet tip. The contrast is immediate as my nipple tightens even further in response. A shiver works its way down my spine and I feel my pussy clenching, aching to be filled. This man, this phantom, this ghost, hasn't even touched me below my waist and yet my body is already aching for him. This isn't right. This is wrong. I don't know who he is, and while it's pretty obvious what he wants from me, I don't know just how much of me he wants to take.

Already my body is his, and I wait and shiver, covered by his hands, wanting and dreading and desiring his mouth on my breast again.

He puts his face between the valley of my breasts and drags his nose up along my throat. I can hear and feel him inhale the scent of my skin in the delicate dip of my collar bone. He continues to breath me in until his face is nestled in the sensitive hollow behind my ear.

Another inhale. A kiss. A lick. A suck. "Delicious," he whispers, and as his breath hits my neck, another shiver wraps its way down my spine. I can feel the goosebumps break out on the back of my neck and for a moment I freeze, and then my head falls back and I bare myself to him. Seeming to accept the invitation my body has just issued, he dives in, lick and sucking, worrying at that spot behind my ear. He continues to feast on my neck as the hand that was at my waist glides up over my trembling stomach, coming to the base of my breast, thumb idly tracing the sensitive underside. His other hand runs down my back and grips my ass, kneading and pulling my lower half up and towards him.

I can't stop my body. I'm betrayed by my own flesh as my hips, guided by him, start to hump the air desperately trying to seek contact, any contact. His leg seems to appear from out of nowhere and slips between my legs. Finally, my aching pussy finds the contact it has been reaching for. My hips seem to take on a life of their own as I furiously pump into him, and he responds by grinding his knee against my clit every time I reach up towards him.

His hands begin to move, and his mouth once again finds my nipples as he alternates between sucking and nipping the tight buds. In my blind state, senses heightened by his earlier teasing, it seems like he is everywhere. Covering me. Controlling me. Conquering me. And in that moment he become my everything as his hands massage and knead, his lips suck and nip, and his knee continues to grind that bright, sparkling spot between my legs. He is everything and then suddenly he is nothing as his weight disappears and he stops touching me.

I wait. The silence is terrible as I whine and my body begs to be touched. Somewhere in my head I know this is wrong, but all I can seem to focus on is the burning need between my legs, that tight, hot ball in the pit of my stomach, and the lonely tips of my breast. Still, I wait.

I can feel that I am being watched and the hair on the back of my neck stand up and slowly my body becomes still and taught, no longer wantonly squirming for release.

I wait.

I wait.

I wait.

There! A cool brush of air right on my clit. The puff of air focuses all of my attention to that one single spot. That tiny, greedy bundle of nerves that is making my body betray me.

Every ounce of my being is trained on that one spot as I wait, wish, hope for him to lay his lips there and suck like he did my tits. Please, there, just a little more. It feels like all I need is on more brush of air to make me burst. A tiny movement along my slit as he touches me. His tongue? I coil further than I thought possible and again I wait, wait, wait.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

Something rains down in quick succession right on my pussy. The pain is instantaneous and unbearable and unhinges something deep within me. Before he hits me a fourth time, I explode. My pussy seems to rupture into the most spectacular orgasm and I swear I see stars even with the blindfold. For moments, I lie there, the only sound is my own panting; the only feeling is the tingles running along my body; the only sight is the slight twinkles as the stars fade.

As I slowly come back to myself, my vision is once again filled with the black void of the blindfold. The tingles fade and I am left cold and clammy with sweat. The only thing I can feel is his hand covering my mound, owning my pussy. He waits another moment before giving my pussy a pat, much like one would give a dog or a horse who had done well.

"I knew you'd be a good slut."

A door shuts and I know I am alone again. And in the darkness, I start to sob.