Clarafication

She brought me in to the room nude and blindfolded, the black cloth loose around my face. I kept my eyes closed, the smile on my lips telling her without a doubt that if I opened my eyes, her game would be over. But Clara didn't seem to mind; she knew I'd play along.

"I've thought about what you told me," she said quietly into my ear, leading me by the shoulder towards the middle of the room. I felt the bed's covers brushing against my bare legs. "I decided to try it out."

My heartbeat seemed to quicken, my eyes struggling to remain shut. Suspecting that I knew what she was up to, my face began to heat. A fantasy I had admitted to my girlfriend two weeks ago, one I'd never been able to tell her before. Something that was almost more fantasy than urge, something that might be best left as fantasy and not reality. Frightened, I yearned to open my eyes and see if she had done it. Clara seemed to sense my fear and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly with her tiny hand. Best not to open them until she'd told me it was all right, but still, my curiosity nagged at me.

Her warm fingers caressed my face, and with a slow brushing motion she pulled the blindfold over my head, releasing my vision. I opened my eyes slowly, scared, and gulped heavily when I saw him.

His body seemed perfect; his skin tone creamy but not pale. A blindfold much different than the one I had previously worn hid his eyes, but his short black hair was visible above it; dark, dark hair like I had never seen. Shorter, thinner hairs covered the rest of his well-shaped body. Vague muscles, obviously not a builder, just in-shape. And his cock, rock hard from the position he had been tied in, was no larger than mine. His arms were spread, his legs held wide, and thick, soft ropes kept him in place on Clara's soft bed.

"What do you think?" my girlfriend, my mistress, asked quietly into my ear. "He's for you. You can do whatever you want with him."

The young man's cock twitched at those words, the muscles in his arms flexing softly. I watched the hypnotic rise and fall of his chest, and swallowed heavily again.

"I don't know…" I mumbled, struggling with my will to move away. Excitement flowed through my body, there was no doubt about that. The heat in my loins was unmistakable, and I could feel my cock beginning to swell with anticipation. But I was scared. This was a line I didn't know if I wanted to cross.

"Touch him, at least, Todd," Clara said, pushing me lightly towards the bed.

Tentatively, I lifted my hand, moving it towards the other man's body until I could feel the heat radiating from him. He groaned and shifted again, as though he could feel my hand so close to his thigh, and lifted his hips. Fire shot through my skin as his flesh brushed against mine, and I gasped and pulled away as if struck.

"Todd," Clara chastised, taking my hand in her own. "I want you to touch him."

Patiently guiding me, Clara rested my hand on his thigh. I swallowed deeply again and did my best not to struggle, the urge to pull away strong. Through my fear and inhibitions I felt the heat in my body rise, and my cock grow even larger, filling with my desire. I wanted this, I knew I did, but that didn't stop my reluctance.

"Clara, please, I'm not ready."

"Let me get this straight, Todd. You wanted a man, so I got you a man. Now you don't want him? Am I hearing you clearly?"

Clara's voice growled in the back of her throat, and her hand clenched mine tighter, holding my palm flat against the thinly haired thigh. I could feel his body pulsing, his heartbeat, his breaths, everything he did through that leg. I groaned and tugged my hand, letting my girlfriend know that this was enough.

"I'm very disappointed," Clara said coldly, lifting her hand off mine abruptly. "I gave you what you wanted. It's not my fault that you won't take it."

"Thank you, baby," I said, bending down to kiss her small face in apology. Clara turned her head away from my lips, dodging my mouth's attention, her eyes locked on the man on the bed. He still breathed heavily, his face turned away from us, listening intently. "Thank you," I said again, pleading for her forgiveness.

"You're an ungrateful little boy," Clara said, turning her hot eyes back to me. "Do you know what I do with ungrateful little boys?"

In an instant she had gone from my soft, loving girlfriend to my cold, frightening mistress. Hard and merciless, but exciting. Against my will my cock hardened the rest of the way, and she saw it and knew it's meaning.

"No, Ma'am," I said, hoping the title would appease her some.

"Go in to the living-room. I will meet with you in a moment."

I glanced once again at the helpless man on Clara's bed, his fists clenched at the corners, his calves flexing and releasing, his body painfully still and yet dramatically alive with every tiny move he made. My hand ached to touch him again, but my mind screamed at me for even thinking such things. I turned and left the bedroom, sitting down on the couch and waiting for my mistress to come back out.

Unsure of who would leave the room, my mistress or my girlfriend, I reluctantly kept my legs open, my hard member available for any eyes to view. My mistress didn't like for me to close my legs, but my girlfriend would allow it. Better to play it safe and keep my thighs apart than to bring down the wrath of my already irked tormenter.

They were alone together inside, and my jealousy peeked out for just a moment to wonder what my girlfriend, my mistress, would do with an attractive man tied to her bed. It wasn't long before Clara came out of the room, her head held high, but it seemed an eternity. Behind her trailed the man who had been bound to her bed, unblindfolded, clothed in boxers and a t-shirt and a boyish smile. Lips straight, unable to smile myself, I struggled to keep my legs separated.

He was as handsome as he had seemed, dark eyes darting from my cock to my eyes, a smile on his lips. I looked away from him quickly, avoiding those penetrating eyes. He had heard my secret desires, had felt my touch. I was ashamed.

"Do you love me, Todd?" Clara's sweet voice asked. It was uncharacteristic of her, that sweet voice with the hard face. She seemed to be playing the part of the mistress, rather than being it. I sought her eyes, keeping her attention.

"More than anything, Clara," I said, testing the waters. She didn't flinch, didn't correct me in the use of her name.

"I'm giving you to Brandon for the weekend. He will stay here, and I will, too, but you are to be to him as you are to me. Do you understand?"

My willpower failed me and my legs pulled together. My cock was still hard, still proud and erect, although my mind was shocked with fear and doubt. Looking from her warm eyes to his, from the hard face of my mistress to the smiling one of the stranger, I felt helpless and alone on the couch. She offered me what I wanted, offered me a man's body to explore, and now she offered me a chance to feel that there was no backing out. The psychology was good, but I didn't know if I could do it.

For my girlfriend, my sweet Clara, I would do anything.

"Yes, Clara," I said.

She smiled. Her face relaxed from the part she played, her eyes warming and her lips softening. I saw her chest rise with a deep breath of relief.

"Then you are his," she said, and turned to the other man.

Brandon turned to me, his dark eyes drawing long from my body. I shivered under his gaze, afraid, but I knew that I could really pull out whenever I wanted to.

"Well," he said, smiling as he met my eyes. He had seen me, all of me, naked and alone. I felt vulnerable; I was vulnerable, but excited. "I would like to take you back into the bedroom. To get to know you better."

His words were well enunciated, his voice deep and penetrating. It seemed to strike the inside of me, the very core of my being. Patiently he stood in front of me, waiting for me to follow his orders.
With a deep breath of air I stood in front of him, revealing my body in its erect form. His smile stayed the same, thin but sincere. Motioning with his arm, he directed me towards the bedroom.

The walk, few steps as it was, seemed to be the longest and most frightening of my existence. Minutes before I had walked here blind, unsure of what was ahead of me. Now, I feared that I knew exactly what was going to happen.

The bed, familiar and comforting, was centered in the room. Clara enjoyed having it there, enjoyed the many possibilities it offered. The ropes that had bound Brandon still dangled from the posts, and I couldn't take my eyes off of them.

"In the middle of the bed," Brandon directed. I looked over my shoulder, assuring myself that Clara stood near.

"Please don't leave me," I mouthed silently to her. She nodded. I obeyed Brandon and sat on the bed, scooting myself to its center.

"Lay down," he said, as I had expected him to.

Closing my eyes, I lay back on the bed, my limbs loose beside me. Reluctant and frightened as I was, not once did the pulsing in my loins slow. Not for the briefest of moments did my arousal wan. On more than one level I wanted this badly. Fear of the unknown was the only thing standing in my way, and control over it had been placed in the hands of a stranger.

A red-hot touch grazed my thigh, and my eyes shot open as I sat up rigid.

"Relax," Brandon cooed. "Lay back down." He brushed his finger against my leg again, much like I had wanted to touch his before, when our positions had been reversed. The stroking sent a tingle up my leg, goose bumps rising on my flesh, but my cock only throbbed between my thighs.

His hand traced its way down my leg, over my thigh and down my shin, around my foot and to the rope at the corner of the bed. I kept my eyes shut as he wrapped the soft hold around my ankle and tied it securely. It was not tight, but I could not free myself without undoing the knot.

Colors flashed in front of my eyes as I sensed him walk to the other corner of the bed, and heat flowed through my body as he touched the next ankle. He tied me down in the most frustrating way; legs first, so I could still struggle if I wanted to. My willpower was the only thing holding me on the bed, and my brain fought with it until Brandon reached my wrist.

He took my hand in his, touching my palm with his soft fingers. I squeezed my face tight, struggling hard not to open my eyes. Somehow, opening them would be defeat, and keeping them closed was a victory to me.

Expertly my hands were bound, my body helpless and spread-eagled for Brandon's inspection. But he didn't touch me.

"Open your eyes," he said, and I shook my head violently. "Open them," he coaxed.

My chest heaved with every deep breath I took, the air feeling stuffy and thick. Beads of sweat were gathering at my hairline, and my face remained clenched as I refused to open my eyes.

"Open them," he said again, harder, colder this time.

I turned my face away from him, blocking out what was going on. I drifted into a new state, a tenser one than even before, as my fear won over my willpower and I began to struggle. My hips rose from the bed, my body unaware of the provocative motions I was making. Back and forth I thrashed, yanking at the bonds, my eyes open finally and wide with fright. I struggled on the bed, messing the blankets, pulling the sheets from under the mattress. And as I writhed, Clara and Brandon only watched.

Panting, I stopped. I knew the futility of my efforts, and it was useless to struggle with the ropes. The power to stop them lay in words, but when I opened my mouth to speak it was as though my voice left me. Only a moan escaped, a throaty howl that even I couldn't tell between one of fear and one of desire. My cock twitched between my legs, swollen and ready, eager for the relief it desired.

"Todd," Clara said softly from the side of the bed. I opened my eyes and turned them to her, pleading with her silently for release. "If you want to stop, you have to say so," she said.

Opening my mouth, I sought the words. But they didn't come. At least one part of me was content, bound and helpless on the bed. Naked and ready for whatever the two of them had planned.

"Look at me." Brandon's hand reached for my face. I breathed heavily as it approached, his fingers reaching for me. Gently, he touched my cheek, and then took my chin in his palm. Slowly he guided my face towards his, and my eyes were drawn to those dark orbs of his like magnets. They were kind, his eyes, and I told myself I had nothing to fear from him. "That isn't so bad, now, is it?" he asked, his soft lips smiling again. "If it'd been me on the bed, this is how I would have wanted to learn about you."

His hand remained on my face, holding my gaze as his expression changed. His eyes drifted from mine and went to my body, his free hand slowly moving towards my chest. My breaths quickened as I sensed it approach, and the first touch of his finger to my belly shook me inside.

Tracing circles around my navel, he slowly stroked my body. His fingers were light as feathers, unobtrusive and yet heavy as granite. My belly shied away from the tickling touch, but he only pressed in further until he felt me again.

"You have nice skin," he commented, his circles widening further and further out from my navel until his fingers were combing through the thick hair above my cock. "And nice hair, too."

I lay tense, my whole body exploding with fear and desire combined, as his hands raked through my wiry pubic hairs. He twirled his finger in the thickness, tugging the soft hair lightly, teasing me relentlessly. The whole time, his hand did not even brush against my throbbing cock. As gently as he had taken my face in his hand, he released it, but I could not tear my eyes away from his face, watching every little change in his expression as he moved along my flesh.

After an eternity of toying, he moved down from my private area, stroking his fingers through the thick hairs of my leg, feeling the length of my thigh and knee. I couldn't help jumping when he reached my foot and tenderly stroked the underside. Almost tickling me, he brushed against the sensitive area, running the tip of his finger from my heel to the end of my big toe.

Over to the opposite leg, and the journey began again, his hand caressing each inch of my leg and hip. He did not linger at my pubic area as long, only running his hand through the hair once, and then following the thin trail back to my navel. He stroked there, and I couldn't help trembling underneath his hand, quivering and cringing, but crying out through my hot flesh for more. Brandon chuckled, and I finally was able to break my eye contact, throwing my face to the side to avoid the smoldering look he threw me.

"Todd," Brandon cooed. "I didn't tell you that you could look away."

I refused to turn my face back to him, my body struggling to writhe underneath his hot touch. He was doing things to me that caused me shame, my face and whole body burning red with embarrassment and desire. I was reacting in ways I had only dreamed, a fantasy come to life, and I couldn't voice the words for him to leave me alone. I didn't really want to be left alone, I wanted him to grab my cock in his hand and finish me off, releasing me from my inner tension.

"Look at me," he said again, sternly. I refused, shaking my head.

Again, his hot fingers caressed my cheeks, stroking my flushed skin. They wrapped around my chin and turned my face towards him, but I refused to open my eyes.

Clara's voice penetrated my ears, her sultry, sexy, feminine tone breaking into my mind and tearing me out of my fantasy world into the real, harsh, yet exciting, reality.

"Todd," she admonished. "Open your eyes and look at Brandon."

Reluctantly, I did so, and met his dark gaze.

"That isn't so bad, is it?" Clara asked, approaching the side of the bed. I whimpered as her hand came towards my face, and her fingers stroked my cheeks over Brandon's fingers, which held me tight. Looking at her, I saw her shake her head. "Look at Brandon," she repeated, and I struggled to look away from her to the young man.

She remained at my side, her hand casually stroking my face, reassuring me. Brandon's free hand continued its trail up from my belly, stroking the muscles of my abdomen and then up to my chest, paying special attention to my tiny dark nipples, which instantly hardened under his touch. I flinched as he took one between his thumb and first finger, squeezing and pinching lightly until I thought that my cock would explode.

"He has sensitive nipples," Clara commented, her eyes not leaving my face. I risked a glance at her, and she shook her head again. Quickly I looked back at my tormentor.

"I like sensitive nipples," Brandon smiled, and he switched to the opposite one, squeezing and pinching until I moaned out loud. "Would you like me to bite them, Todd?" he asked.

I couldn't answer, but the rise and fall of my chest became more rapid as I breathed excitedly. My cock was pulsing so hard I thought it would explode if his mouth, her mouth, any mouth touched my body. Slowly and deliberately Brandon lowered his head, and my eyes followed as his large soft lips took my nipple, sucking it into his hot mouth.

He made love to that tiny bit of my flesh, rolling it around with his silky tongue. I groaned and shut my eyes, thrusting my hips up from the bed in the hopes of contact with anything. Smooth white teeth took my nipple and slight pressure was applied, just enough to make me feel as though the tip of my nipple would explode like the head of my cock. I moaned loudly underneath him, my hands clenching in their bonds and lightly tugging at the ropes. Clara's fingers stroked softly as Brandon tortured my flesh, and then moved across my chest to the opposite breast, taking that nipple and giving it the same treatment.

"Oh god," I whimpered, writhing underneath Brandon's face as he sucked my nipples. "Oh, please…"

"What do you need, love?" Clara asked, taking my face from Brandon and turning it towards me. "Tell us what you need."

"Please," I whimpered. I couldn't make myself say the words that would give me the release I craved. The current caresses were out of my control, the mouth on my chest moving against my will. If I spoke my needs, my desires, my wants, I would be voicing the impossible. I was ashamed, but I wanted to feel that hot mouth on my cock. I wanted to be inside him. I wanted to be fucked by him, by her, by anybody. I needed it.

"You have to say the words," Clara insisted. "Say them, and we'll do it."

"Please," was the only word I could mumble. "Please…"

"He won't say it," Clara said, disappointed. Brandon lifted his face from my chest, his mouth leaving my nipple wet and cold in the room's still air.

"Then he will receive nothing," Brandon said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

My body cried out in alarm, my senses and nerves and limbs screaming in protest.

"Please!" I exclaimed, writhing against my will underneath them. My body pulsed, my insides churned. My cock throbbed and the pleasure concentrated there seemed unbearable. "I need it! Please, I need it!"

"What do you need?" Clara asked, bending over me and looking deep into my eyes.

I whimpered and moaned and groaned and thrashed, my body wild underneath them. If only I could reach myself, but my hands were bound above my head. I was lost, floating, swimming in desire and fear and shame. But at once I had no shame, and my body won over my mind, and my voice submitted to my needs.

"I need your lips on my cock," I whispered, shutting my eyes and fighting against Clara's hand for the freedom to look away. She allowed my face to shift, and I buried it in my arm, hiding from what I had just admitted.

"Well," Brandon said. "He said it."