Playing with Perspective Pt. 02

"Such a good girl! All your holes belong to me now. Did you think it was time for a formal punishment? Not yet, I'm afraid. I believe I whispered one other little detail to you, and it will require you to stand up again first."

* * *

"Yes, Christopher."

Oh, I nailed it that time! You could hardly tell there was a pair of panties clenched between my teeth. Well, at least when only pronunciation was being considered. Otherwise, I was still hyper-aware of them. Ugh, how could you not be? I kept catching little whiffs of myself every time I moved my head. It was mortifying, but I had to admire his ability to dance right along the edge of what I was comfortable with, and his unwavering commitment to carry this one cruel lesson across the entire evening. Who knew that an unapologetic lack of compromise could be such a turn-on?

I stood up for him immediately, hoping the toys would stay in place. As I did, I remembered the same command to stand from back in the lobby, and how much I had struggled with it. I scoffed at my frail former self as I performed the same act now, under unimaginably more intense circumstances. Then my stomach lurched as I turned and saw him standing up with me, and reaching for a bundle of rope that was sitting on the table nearby. Was he really going there already? I knew it was something that would be a regular part of our play, but restraining me seemed wholly unnecessary given that I couldn't even imagine resisting him right now! Surely he could see that? Was he getting ahead of himself? Was his infamous patience finally slipping?

I felt a small surge of pride that I might be having that sort of effect on him, but it was a brief wave breaking up against a rocky shore. Gone in an instant, because he ignored my wrists and instead doubled the rope around my waist, linking it at my belly-button and then pulling the lines down toward my crotch. I finally remembered a few of the words he had whispered to me: "...so wet...a little help...keep those toys inside..."

"Clasp your hands behind your neck, and spread your legs nice and wide."

"Yef, Chriftofer!" Damn it, my composure had slipped again.

As I obeyed, I tried to shut down my blathering brain, and any expectations along with it. I was going to get myself in trouble, and I had enough to deal with already. I tried to observe him with clinical detachment, but that was a patently absurd idea. Instead of calming me, my heart rate spiked and I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut. I didn't dare, but when I saw him start tying small knots at strategic points in the rope, I flinched and lifted my gaze to a blank spot on the far wall that was more than fascinating enough.

After a few adjustments, I felt him pull the coarse rope snug up against my clit, between my lips, and across the base of the plug in my ass. Then he looped it under the rope at my waist in back, cinched it even tighter, and ran it between my legs again to the front where he tied it off. This was like nothing I had ever felt before. The impact on my nerve endings was immediate and extreme. My whole body felt taut like a guitar string, and I whimpered pitifully at the strict imprisonment of my poor little pussy; tightly bound, and yet oh... so... close... to coming completely undone.

"There you go. A little gift for doing such a good job with your packing. Now you don't have to hold anything in on your own. One less thing to focus on. Also, I haven't forgotten how much you like to brag about being able to grind and get off without using your hands. I thought you would appreciate this particular sensation."

"F-fank you, Chriftofer," I stammered. I didn't know if I truly meant it. His smirk said he didn't care.

He placed one hand tenderly between my legs, feeling his handiwork, teasing me, tugging playfully. I tried to keep quiet. The rough hemp against my sensitive lips was intense, only bearable as long as I didn't squirm too much. The compression from the rope was sharp, but waves of pleasure pulsing from my clit kept most of the discomfort in the background. And the pressure on the toy in my ass gave a heightened awareness to the way my muscles were contracting around it involuntarily.

And then, without warning, he slapped my pussy. Not hard, I don't think. I don't know. Was it a tap, or a smack? Why the hell am I splitting hairs in my head right now? It was equal amounts of pain and pleasure, one indistinguishable from the other. The rope was a hot, raw electric wire, splitting me apart, and as he hit me again, the impact was a lightning bolt of ecstasy, sundering mind from body. My thoughts were fragmenting, my senses failing. I was even hearing strange noises, that I couldn't quite place... Oh, never mind, I was making those noises.

Another slap, this one callous. Confident. Cruel. "Thank you!" I thought. Or said. Or screamed. My own gratitude reminded me that it was HIS pussy now. Ahh, that was much simpler. Much easier. Sooo much better! Please, again. Yes, again! His hand hijacking my nervous system with every swing. I didn't know how. I didn't care how. My brain flopped like a fish on a hook. Gave in and let go.

And then I came. Holy fucking shit, I came.

And as my arms dropped and my legs buckled underneath me, he kept one hand at my crotch, grabbed my hair with the other, and pulled me as he sat down so that I fell across his lap, tumbling helplessly into position. My body was still convulsing against him, but he ignored my senseless state and instructed me to count to twenty as his hand landed squarely on my ass for the first time.

I was too stunned, too disoriented to understand or respond. I knew this was a blissful extension of what I had just endured, but I had stopped processing my own reactions. Pain seemed to have lost any meaning and the crotch rope was utterly forgotten. Once again he told me to start counting, as he hit the other cheek. But I just kept drifting, marvelling at how peculiar the human mind was that it could crave so desperately to be treated in this particular way. My ass bucked eagerly for him as his hand came down a third time.

"Count!" he scolded, still playful, toying with me, coaxing me. Finally, he brought me back to him.

"F-f-four?" I said, giggling foolishly, knowing full well that it was a wild guess. And as I spoke, realizing with astonishment that somehow my panties were STILL between my teeth.

"Ha, no. I think we should start this again from the top."

Fuuuuck. "One?"