tagBDSMMistaken Identity

Mistaken Identity


He let himself into her flat and looked around.

Everything was quiet. Moving around he started his preparations. Bed set up with pillows just so. Binding straps fastened to the four corners of the bed, so he could just slip them onto her and pull tight.

Into the kitchen to see what food and drink was available. He intended to make a night of this.

Now to settle down and wait.

Time passed and soon he heard the key in the door. Moving behind it he waited. She stepped in and, as she came past the door, he moved.

Blindfold bag over her head and pulled tight, followed by the larger bondage bag that, once tightened, effectively constricted her movements.

Kicking the door to close it, he tossed the girl over his shoulder and down to the bedroom. Her legs were flailing back and forth but she had no leverage. The advantage was all his.

Into the bedroom and dump her on the bed. Grab the first strap, slip it over her ankle and pull tight. Now the second strap on the other ankle, pull tight and now use the leverage he had gained to make sure her legs were well spread before finally fastening the second strap.

She was sitting up and struggling, but the bondage bag effectively hampered her movements. He could here muffled sounds emanating from the bag, and laughed. The blindfold bag was thick and soft and would effectively act as a gag as well as a blindfold.

Pushing her so that she was lying back and then lifting one side of the bondage bag so he could catch a wrist. The third strap slipped on and pulled up, leaving one to go.

He was able to dispense with the bondage bag completely now. Loosening it and removing it and, deftly capturing her other arm, he slipped on the fourth strap, pulling it tight.

He stood back and admired his work. She was spreadeagled on the bed, unable to move or see. He gave a gentle squeeze to one of her breasts to remind her of why he was there.

Clothes. He stopped to consider them. He hadn't been sure of how he wanted to remove them. Obviously his choices were to either undress her properly, or cut her clothes off. If she was wearing good things he'd have felt honour bound to remove them intact, which would probably be difficult with her struggling. Especially the way she was bouncing on the bed right now, testing the various straps.

OK, he decided. Those things are well worn. She won't really miss them. He reached for his scissors and started cutting.

Feeling the cold metal, she froze. Was that a knife? He was cutting her clothes and if she struggled he might slip and cut her. Frightened she lay still while her clothes were removed.

He smiled as he contemplated his naked prize. She was a fine looking young woman, helpless and his. He swiftly stripped off his own clothes before sitting next to her on the bed.

Now he was able to touch her where-ever he pleased. Placing his hand on her stomach he started moving it in small circles, slowly increasing the size of the circles, so soon his hand was just brushing the under curve of her breasts and gliding across the top of her pubic mound. He was pleased to note that she had shaved. She must have been expecting him.

He decided to spend some time tantalising her mound. His hands drifted down and around it, ignoring her twisting and attempts to throw his hands off. He continued down between her thighs, caressing the soft flesh there, travelling back up and around her mound, his fingers barely touching the skin.

Despite herself, he could see her lips flushing and swelling. Even without being touched directly, her pussy was reacting with anticipation. Smiling, he let his hand trail in a direct line along her mound, fingernails rasping lightly along her labia, and teasing the length of her slit.

Again she was bucking, and yelling or screaming so loudly he could actually hear her through the blindfold bag. Such language, he thought, shaking his head.

Happy with the way things were going he bent and gently licked along her pussy. From the jolt, if she hadn't been tied down she'd have jumped clean off the bed. Bending down he repeated the sweet torment, while at the same time reaching up and caressing her breasts, teasing the nipples into excited life.

He was slipping his tongue inside her now, feeling her wetness and warmth. Flicking her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, he felt her arch upward and could hear her scream in surprise. A few more flicks, moving deeper and he could feel her shuddering at the ecstatic torment.

He started planting little kisses, starting with her mound and moving slowly up, intending to finish with kissing the small tattoo just above and between her breasts.

He paused at that point, and sat back contemplating. Why him? Why did this sort of thing have to happen to him?

The little tattoo was missing. Gone. Vanished, as though it had never been.

The obvious conclusion was that it had never been.

Sighing, he reached up and removed the blindfold.

"You bastard," she screamed. "You creep. How dare you. I'm going to kill you for this." As it seemed that this was just the start of what she had to say, he reached over and placed his hand over her mouth, starting down into her furious eyes.

"Hullo, Stella," he said. "What are you doing here and where the hell is Becky?"

Stella glared up at him, fighting hard to restrain her temper enough to answer him.

"Becky," she announced bitingly, "has been taken to the pub for some drinks by a group of the girls from her work. She rang me and asked me to drop some things off here for her."

She paused, and then continued, her voice like ice. "And please tell me, Paul, just what the fuck you think you're playing at?"

Paul rubbed his chin. "Sorry about this," he said. "You walked into a game play I had set up for Becky. It was to be part of my birthday present for her. You did know she likes a little bondage?"

"She has mentioned it, but I'm not Becky and you're an idiot. Now get me loose. And what am I supposed to wear? You cut up my clothes."

"A new outfit was going to be part of the deal," said Paul, ruefully. "Looks like I'll now have to spring for an outfit for you, too. Right now we have a different little problem."

"What problem, and let me loose, damn you," came the swift rejoinder.

"The problem is that you're tied up and your pussy is hot and wet, and I've got an erection that's sticking out a foot in front of me aching for some attention."

Stella paled and flashed a look towards Paul's groin, before frantically looking away.

Paul laughed. "I didn't mean a foot literally," he told her. "I'm not that large. The point I was making was that you're wet and I'm horny and the two things seem to go together."

Stella felt like panicking, but kept her voice soft and soothing. "Why don't you cut me loose, and then we can talk about your little problem," she suggested.

Paul reached over and cupped her pussy, letting a finger slide between her lips to explore.

"Definitely warm and wet," he murmured. "I caused this, so it's only right that I should deal with it."

Paul climbed back onto the bed, moving between Stella's thighs. He looked at her horrified face. "You seem a bit dubious," he noted. "Would you like me to put the blindfold back on?"

"No," Stella yelled. "You get away from me. Save yourself for Becky. Just leave me alone. AND CUT ME LOOSE!"

Paul was again gently stroking Stella, ignoring her comments. He leaned over her, letting his cock rub against her. Pressing lightly against her he reached up and started caressing her breasts.

Stella was twisting, trying to squirm away from his touch, her voice getting higher and more frantic the closer Paul came to culminating their little misadventure.

Paul paused for a moment, frowning. "You're being too noisy," he told Stella firmly. "This will make it easier for both of us."

Reaching over he picked up the blindfold bag and, despite her protests and attempted evasions, he slipped it easily over her head, drawing it closed, having her yells recede to a muffled background.

Hands on her pussy, Paul edged her lips gently apart, positioning himself in the inviting pink cavern. Letting her lips close over him, Paul pushed himself forward, moving swiftly into Stella's inner recesses.

The background noise now included an infuriated scream, he noted idly, holding himself still for the moment as he felt Stella's frantic wriggles and squirming. Even though they were intended to try to dislodge him he knew that they would help adjust her body to him. Also, all that wriggling and squirming was doing wonderful things to him and, he strongly suspected, to her as well.

Indeed to her as well. Paul could feel Stella's capitulation when her writhing slowly changed to a steady push, as she started to ride his cock. Moving to meet her, he bounced happily, driving himself as deep as possible. Now Stella was arching her back, bottom lifting up off the mattress in her eagerness to meet the cock that had mastered her. Together they hammered out a duet of mastery and submission, both of them delighting in the parts they were playing.

All good things must end and soon Paul was climaxing, striving to delay that last moment as he waited for Stella to also reach her heights, gasping with relief and thundering home when he felt her finally convulse beneath him.

Paul relaxed, lying next to Stella, leaving her bound and blindfolded. A man needed a bit of peace and quiet at a time like this, and he suspected he wouldn't get any once he let her loose.

It appeared he wasn't going to get any even with Stella effectively gagged and bound. There was a scream of fury from the doorway, and Paul jumped up in shock.

"Becky?" he cried. "You can't be. If you're Becky, then who is this," he said, indicating the blindfolded figure on the bed. "My god, Becky," he gasped. "What have I done?"

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