Bound By Lust & Handcuffs

Bound by Lust and Handcuffs

Devlin Wylde

This story is an original narration from the Wylde In Bed Podcast.

Helen let's her fingers dance across the rails of clothes, getting a sense of all the fabrics under her finger tips. The sensuous feeling and soft caress of materials against her fingertips have her imagination running amok and simulating all her hot spots. There's silk, satin and lace. Row after row of sensual lingerie. All hanging so seductively. Tempting her. Teasing her. Taunting her. Lingerie that would make her feel so good. So feminine. So beautiful. Like a real woman should.

"Jeez, Helen," my best friend Nicole had told me over dinner last night. "Stop worrying about work, about what others think of you. Stop aiming to be that perfect model of virtue and innocence every waking minute. Blow off the goody two-shoes attitude and go out and do something stupid and wild. Something crazy and unimaginable. Go streak down Main Avenue. Flash those lovely tits of yours to one of the uppity-ass lawyers you work for. Go pick up a hot strange man and fuck his proverbial brains out."

Closing her eyes and running a beautiful red silk teddy across her right cheek, Helen wonders about Nicole's words for a moment. "She's right," I utter under my breath. "I'm twenty-four years old. I'm a grown woman."

While Helen still respects her family and their religious preferences, her days of living in a strict Baptist family are long gone, and just as Nicole said last night, "That was then. This is now."

With the red silk pressing against her check, her belly flutters as she wonders how it would feel to be dressed in this beautiful lingerie. How it would flatter her curves, accentuate her assets. How the soft silk would feel sliding over her clit and the hard pebbles of her nipples. How a man would react to seeing her dressed so provocatively.

Helen inadvertently lets out a soft moan as she stares into the full-length mirror in front of her. Her neck and cheeks are flushed pink and her body is warm and tingly as she thinks of how sexy she's feeling by something as simple as women's lingerie. Without thought, she slides the lingerie over her soft skin once again and her breath catches in her throat when she realizes how deeply the color red complements her skin, her eyes and her hair in just the perfect way. Just the fantasy of wearing this beautiful silken teddy for a man has her moving so much more seductively as she watches herself in the mirror. She feels like a woman. She feels feminine. She feels beautiful.

Knowing she probably looks ridiculous, Helen quickly glances around the store and focuses on the cashier who is busy boxing up what looks like a long silken robe. She notices there isn't a sign of a security guard anywhere and she sees no cameras hanging from the walls. Helen's pulse grows heavy as she grabs the first piece of lingerie from the hanger and slips it quickly between the folds of her coat. A rush of excitement moves through her, her heartbeat now drumming in her ears. With her stomach clenching in anticipation, all she can think is wow. Just ... wow. Never had she stolen. Never had she even thought of such a thing. But now she was crazily flooded with the terrifying risk of doing something wrong. Something immoral. Something illegal. Helen fills her coat with more sensual lingerie, pushing each piece into folds of her dress and being careful only to select the ones that will fit her body type perfectly, and of course only in her favourite colors or red, black and white.

With the rush of adrenaline inebriating her, the next few minutes seem to pass in a blur. Giddy with excitement, she moves quickly toward the exit, trying to look normal, trying to keep the small streak of guilt pushing through her mind from covering her expression.

Helen giggles as she leaves the store. Her parents would be appalled. As she heads toward the main street, she stops and takes a breath to calm her beating heart which is still racing in her ears. She starts to reach into her handbag for her phone to call Nicole and tell her the crazy thing she'd just done when she realizes she's a little confused and lost. Helen tries to get her bearings. She's been on these streets a dozen times. She's lived her for years. But nevertheless, she feels disoriented. Just as she starts to bring up her contact numbers, the sound of a voice startles her and she drops her phone back into her purse and begins walking quickly. Somewhere in the fog of this lazy dream, there's a voice uttering off words in a tone of stern authority. Of punishment.

"Stop right there, miss!"

The dark shadows in his voice force the fog of confusion away from Helen's mind. With the rush of excitement now turning to an overwhelming panic, her footsteps quicken into a run as. She heads toward the main street, weaving between cars, fear coursing through her veins. But the man is only footsteps away. Still pursuing her. Closing in with every step. Her breath aches in her chest as she turns down a side alley, aware she can't out run him, but hoping to see somewhere that perhaps she can hide.

To her surprise the alley is basked in sunlight. No dark, hidden corners here, just one steep fire-escape. Helen desperately squats behind the metal grills of the fire-escape, praying for a miracle that will save her from this mess.

Focusing on the ground, in the feint hope that is she doesn't look up, maybe he might not see her. Still his footsteps slow from a fast run to a slow, deliberate walk. Every footfall, echoing in the emptiness of this side road. Every footstep pressing on her trembling heart. Maybe he will miss her. Maybe he will think she didn't come down here at all. Maybe.... But the sun accuses Helen as it casts the stranger's shadow before him. All is lost. Trembling with fear, Helen stands up, resigned to her fate. It's a policeman. My God, what have I gotten myself into?

"Miss, I believe you left the Happy Endings Lingerie shop without paying. I'm going to have to ask you to open your coat."

His silver badge shines brightly against his left chest, his police uniform a crisp black, accentuating a pair of brilliantly blue eyes. As he stares at Helen with an unknown look in his gaze, his police baton in one hand, his phone in the other, just the mere sight of him and the strong tone of his voice has her jerking to a complete halt and immediately releasing the buttons to her coat.

Lingerie tumbles to the ground as her coat falls open. Suddenly, she feels so naked, so exposed. The policeman takes a step forward, his body strong and broad, his eyes penetrating her. Holding her gaze with a ferocious intensity, he slides his cell phone into his pocket. "That's quite an impressive amount of lingerie you lifted, Miss."

Helen's body trembles at the sound of his deep unrelenting voice as his eyes caress down her body with a firm stare. He pauses at her breasts and her treacherous nipples turn to hard pebbles underneath her thin summer dress. Despite the obvious act of shoplifting, for a moment Helen considers begging the policeman not to arrest her or making up some untruth about why she lifted the lingerie.

The policeman looks at the lingerie then at Helen, and she feels a gentle throbbing building between her thighs, the afternoon breeze kissing along her panties only accentuating the feeling of wet heat already dripping down her legs.

As his eyes move across the soft flesh of her thighs, obviously aware that her dampness is probably glistening in the sun, she feels a tremble, a brief spasm deep in her pussy, which clutches under his withering gaze.

Fixing on her eyes again, his gaze is stern. Demanding. Dominant.

"Spread your thighs, miss."

Goosebumps electrify every inch of Helen's skin. My God, this was a policeman. He was seconds from arresting her. But still, he's hot. He's sexy as fuck, turning her breath was ragged, causing her pulse to race in her chest. Electricity crackled between the two of them and if Helen wasn't incorrect, he was growing hard underneath his black slacks.

"Fuck, he's hot," Helen thinks to herself.

Betraying her will, her legs part and the last scraps of lingerie fall to the ground. With her body warm and sticky from the heat of the summer day, her dress rides up the curves of her thighs wickedly high and she instantly feels her pussy exposed beneath her panties, the burning ache in her core enflamed at least tenfold by the slight breeze in the air.

Hot sexy cop's intensity burns brightly in his eyes as he takes another step closer. His tall stature dominates Helen, his voice is level, strong, and intimidating as he asks, "Anything else hidden up there?" with what looks like a bend of a smile on his lips.

Hot sexy copy slides his cold baton up the inside of Helen's thigh, teasing at her wet desire as it touches at her panties. She gasps and her body trembles involuntarily. Her eyes close without warning and a soft moan drops from her lips as screaming wicked desire floods her body.

While dragging his baton back firmly, possessively, and in what seems to be a seductive pace, her body sways with lustful need as her thoughts run away from her. Helen shifts restlessly, her breath becoming ragged as passion burns through every cell in her body.

"You're going to have to take the dress off miss. I need to see what else you have hidden."

Surprised by his command and even more surprised by the flush of excitement throbbing in her pussy, she glances at him, fantasizing what his deep voice and stunning blue eyes might be look and sound like pressed against her body.

"No! My God, I can't strip. Not here. Aren't you going to take me to the police station?"

"Then I would have to arrest you. And that might be unfortunate." With his voice flowing down her body and ending up at her clit, from nowhere handcuffs appear in his hand. He reaches for Helen's wrist and before she has time to think or speak, a metallic click announces her bondage. Turning her swiftly and pressing her against the cold metal of a hand rail of the fire escape, he bends her over the escape.

With my heart racing in my ears and my belly a bed of quivering butterflies, my voice surprisingly comes out stern. "I have nothing else hidden! Look at me! Where could I hide anything else?" Helen's voice seethes with anger for all the desire she feels moving through her body. But as much as it excited her to think of it, she could not and would not strip in front of this cop on the street in broad daylight.

Slowly, Helen becomes aware of movement under her dress. Being bent over the hand rail with her hands held tightly behind her back, there's nothing she can do to stop it. When she feels the gentle movement of silk and her panties teasing the tops of her clit and her thighs, she wills the quivering in her core to stop. She holds her breath. She mumbles off a silent prayer to stop what feels like the beginning of an orgasm building in her pussy. But when she hears the panties drop against the ground, although silk, the sound of their crash is almost deafening.

His breath burns at her ears as the policeman leans in closer. His voice rings deep and heavy as he whispers "I think we'll call that evidence. And you know resisting a police officer is an offence. And most definitely punishable."

"Fuck you! Then do your worst, hot sexy cop." Deciding the only defense she has left is anger, Helen spits the words at him, denying her arousal, her needs. Denying him the pleasure of her just surrendering to his dominant desires. Wishing like hell she hadn't called him by the pet name she already had engrained in her mind.

"Hot sexy cop is it? " There's almost humor in his voice, his breath hot against her neck. "Someone needs to learn some manners when talking to a man with authority."

His hand lifts her dress the short distance to her pelvis. With the breeze biting at her ass, his hands slip into her panties, ripping them from her unresisting body. Startling Helen, she felt helpless. She felt out of control. She felt ... turned on out of her damned mind. Before she could think of what to do or what to say, when the sudden breeze kisses her pussy, it forces a gasp and then a drawn out salacious moan from her lips.

His hand feels like red heat as it connects with her ass once, twice, then again, each strike hard and aggressive, sending pulses of pain through her cheeks and a deep incessant need rippling inside her pussy. "Fuck! Oww," Helen cries, clenching with desire, her core throbbing with need, the scent of her arousal a dead give away to the need she felt.

His hand strikes her ass once again with even more force, a tremor of pain shooting through her clit and firing sensations up her stomach and straight into her nipples.

"My God! What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"

Helen cries out, her lower body quivering as his fingers linger on the lips of her pussy.

"Because I can. Because you're letting me."

He runs a hand gently over Helens mound then over the stinging cheeks of her ass and as the pain subsides, it's replaced by the warm tingle of pleasure moving through her body as the gentle caress of his fingers tease her sensations further, heightening the pleasure moving through her body, forcing another moan of desire from her lips.

"You won't be able to sit down for a week, blondie. Not without thinking of me." His whisper is harsh and stern, and god so erotic. So controlling.

When his hand crashes back down, her ass burns with pain, her pussy quivering with pleasure. He huffs out a laugh, then draws his fingers through the crack of her ass until he's rubbing her clit. "Think you can be good now, baby girl? Do away with acts that may get you thrown into the back of a police car? Possibly with a dirty policeman?"

His whisper is dark and dominant, reeking with promises of pleasure and pain. Helen digs her nails into his wrists in defiance, resisting him. Fighting him. Wanting him worse than her next breath.

"Go to hell," Helen spits out.

With no humour this time, he sucks in a breath and pushes his baton against her thighs, forcing her legs to open further. The air leaves Helen's lungs in a rush, every move he makes possessive and illegal, yet causing image after image of the two of them fucking to play through her mind, the look on his face as he pushes inside her for the first time, the sound of his voice when those first warm threads of semen leave his body and enter hers. Her pussy lips are parted, she breeze kissing the stinging pleasure on her clit. Hot sexy cop traces a slow line up her thighs, the tender flesh excruciatingly sensitive. Its cold surface presses along her pussy, her nipples tightening, her clit swelling, her body aching from head to toe.

"Oh my fucking God!" Helen cries out as he presses the wicked baton against her throbbing clit, the words automatic and reactive to the sin-filled pleasure burning through her body.

"Are you going to be good baby girl?" His whisper insidiously finds its way to her clit, forcing the pleasure to grow. Yet, somewhere deep inside her inner brat shouts her rebellion, "No!" she spits out between her gasps of pleasure.

"Very well," he murmurs, the depth of his voice making Helen tremble all over. He drops his baton and there's a brief rush of air as his hand strikes the sensitive flesh between her thighs and punishes her wanton clit with vicious lust.

"Holy mother of fucking God!" Helen screams as his hand stays on her clit. His skin is warm, the firm pressure somehow heightening the pain vibrating through her. Just as the agonizing burn begins to subside and give way to the now familiar sensations of pleasure Helen never knew she held, hot sexy cop's finger circles her clit, teasing it with the tip of nail, her body trembling from the lust aching inside.

God, she needs to come. She aches for it. She really doesn't know how much longer she can hold it off. Her clit and pussy scream with need. Wet arousal streams down her thighs as her lower belly tenses and tightens with the need to climax.

With his long fingers grasping her clit then forcibly pulling it, he drags Helen's pleasure to a whole new level of need and desperation. Gone is the goody-goody. Gone is the virtuous and innocent girl raised by a Baptist preacher who's been saving herself for that one special man.

"Holy fuck!," she cries. "I'll be good. I will. I'll do anything you ask. Please, just fuck me!" she gasps, unable to resist her orgasm any longer.

"Jesus," the sexy policeman utters, dragging the zipper on her dress down, ignoring the remaining lingerie falling to the ground. He releases her cuffed hand. Her dress follows the lingerie, ending in a pool around her ankles. His arms fall around her, possessively, dominantly, demandingly. For the first time Helen can feel his body against hers as his mouth presses against her neck, biting and teasing the delicate skin, the hard erection behind his slacks pressing into her ass and making the flesh between her thighs quiver viciously.

Turning her to face him, Helen loses herself in the intensity of his eyes and beautiful face. Heat burns deep within his gaze, a look of raw animalistic desire etched deep in his expression Lifting her hands in his, the click of the hand cuff on the upper step of the fire escape does nothing but arouse her further. Bound by lust and handcuffs, though shocked by the fury of her reaction to this complete stranger, Helen nonetheless embraces her submission completely.

His fingers trace a line down her arms. She shifts uncomfortably with desire pulsing through her body. Up her spine. Along her neck. Even her fingertips feel sensitive. Caressing the curves of her breasts, he teases around her erect nipples, not touching them, just teasing the desire in them. Aching with lust, Helen pushes her breasts forward, willing him to squeeze, to bite, to punish. As he stares into her eyes, she can only focus on the passion flickering in his gaze and those thick lips of his, wanton and wet. Finally, His lips embrace hers. His mouth is warm with the faint trace of wintergreen. He bites her bottom lip savagely, they metallic taste of her own blood stimulating her carnal desire. His finger and thumb pinch mercilessly at her nipple, but unable to scream in pleasure, Helen can only breathe his lustful breath as his tongue presses against hers.

A wildfire of pleasure moves through Helen's body when he suddenly releases her nipple. His hand drops, then grasps between her thighs, rubbing her clit with force and desire. And then, he thrusts two fingers deep into her pussy, stretching her, massaging her, forcing her orgasm through her body.

And then he stops.

His lips move from hers. What the fuck, she thinks. She was seconds from coming. He shoots her another sexy bend of a grin as his fingertip teases around her pulsing pussy. It feels like a lover's kiss, gentle, soft, but oh so frustrating. He relentlessly teases over her clit, the ache now too great to ignore.

"Please," Helen whispers. "My God, let me come."

"Not yet. Not until I say," he responds, his voice authoritative and level, in absolute control.

The frustrating agony in her clit is more painful than a hundred hours of spanking. It's agony. It's fucking unbearable. And he damn well knows it. He grins as he watches Helen squirm, clearly getting off on her discomfort. Clearly punishing her with his dark sadistic moves.

Lost in a fog of desire and lust, some minutes later, maybe five, or hell maybe five hours, Helen no longer knew how long he'd been teasing, taunting, and torturing her. It felt like she'd been held on the edge of her orgasm beyond her endurance. Was this what a sadist did to his lover?

Was hot sexy cop a sexual sadist?