Taming of the Stalker

I extend my tongue and lick up and down the outer folds. I don't want this to be a desperate thing, thereby not giving you any pleasure. I've had experience, and I use all of it to give you the best licking you've ever had. I run my tongue up and down the outer folds for a while, then slowly snake it inward, causing you to tremble above me. You moan quietly over me and say, "In deeper."

I oblige and bury my tongue deep in your snatch, licking lazily and whirling to bring you closer. As I sense the inevitable approaching, I slow down and hold you there to heighten it when it finally does happen.

"Lick me faster you bastard," you growl and rub my dick again. That does it. I start to lick furiously, and you cry out as I start to taste your secretions. I lick as quickly as I can, trying to keep up with the flow.

Finally, you climb off of me and lay down beside me, putting an arm over me.

"Mmm, baby, you do that so well... where'd you learn to do that? Oh crap, you haven't eaten since you got here. I'll be right back."

You stand up, smile at me, and hurry out the door. I'm glad you mentioned food, and I'm starving, the rumbling of my stomach attesting to that. There's nothing I can do but wait, so that's exactly what I do.

While I wait, I ponder the situation I've gotten myself into. Kidnapped and dominated by a beautiful young woman was not at all what I'd had planned. Of course, I'm glad it turned out this way, but still, I think back to what brought me to this part of the country. I'd met her years ago at a place that was, for the most part, forgotten. She was the only thing I really remember about it at all, and something about her had drawn me in like a magnet. I'd figured out, through some pretty shady means, where she was going to school and where her dorm was likely to be. After that, it was a simple matter of driving here to locate her, but what I didn't know was that she'd be ready for me.

I wasn't sure what I would've done had this turn of events not occurred, maybe watched her, perhaps scurried back home with my tail between my legs. But that didn't happen. Instead, she suckered me in with her feminine powers and that cute but assertive way she has about her, and now, as a result, I'm tied down to a bed at a secret location with no way of escaping. I must add quickly that I probably wouldn't want to escape, even if I had the option, which she hadn't given me.

Speaking of being tied down, while these silk scarves are not really uncomfortable, I think I've been here a while. The circulation in my arms is going, and I feel the familiar pins and needles associated with limbs falling asleep. As I think about this, you come back into the room with the food tray in your hands, a cheery smile on your face.

"Um, could you please untie these scarves?" I ask. "I'm losing circulation."

"Oh dear, now that is a problem," you say. "If I were to untie you, you might think of running away or overpowering me, and I can't have that. But it has been a while, and I need you to eat-I've heard of people in these kinds of situations starving their... um, whatever I decide you are, but not I. I'd rather you not die, and I need you to keep your strength up. Still..."

You put the tray down on the dresser and pace about the room, considering. You tap your fingernails together, and suddenly seem to reach a decision.

"I'm going to situate you differently," you say. "You will be a good boy and not do anything while I work, yes?"

"Listen, I didn't even try to hurt you when we were under those trees. You think I'd do anything against your will now?"

"How true. All right."

You walk around to the side of the bed and untie the scarf connecting my left arm. When I have freedom of movement, I stretch my arm and wiggle it around a bit to wake it up. You smile, walk around to the other side of the bed and release my right arm, then my feet.

"Sit up, dear," you instruct. You retie the scarves around my feet, so that if I were to get up, I could only hobble, and tie my hands together in front of me, so I can eat comfortably, but any sudden moves will be restricted. That done, you fetch the food tray, sit it on my lap and kiss me.

"Oh, I forgot you a drink, didn't I? What would you like?"

"Hmm, Coke or tea, if you've got it."

"Back in a jiff."

You come back in a minute or so later with a cold can of Coke, already opened. "I wanted a drink," you tell me, and I nod.

As I begin to eat the fried chicken breast and mashed potatoes, you sit down next to me and brush lightly against me.

"So, why did you come here?" you ask.

"Looking for you," I say. "We never did exchange any kind of contact information, but I remembered your name."

"Stalkerish. You'd better remember you're lucky it's me. Anyone else would've called the police, and you'd be in jail. You know that, right?"

I nod. "I thought I was better at it, to be honest. But the way you looked at me, not scared, calm and together, even when you were being watched by someone you barely knew was, well, arousing to me."

"Hmm," you say. "The way I looked at you... to be honest, I was a little bit scared, but I thought I might've recognized you, and thought I remembered some off-hand comment to someone else that you liked dominant women."

I look at you. You grin and chuckle. "I wasn't stalking you, little stalker. I just hear things and put them away for future reference, like I did with you."

You nonchalantly reach over to the plate and pick up a piece of chicken. A few seconds later, you tell me to open up, and I do. You place the piece of chicken in my mouth, and I chew it, immediately recognizing where it's been. You grin evilly and ask, "Like it?"

"Well yes, yes I do," I respond.

"I thought you might," you say. "More?"

The rest of the meal is a combination of you seasoning pieces of chicken in your wet pussy and asking me about what I've been up to, if I've got a job or if I'm looking. I answer your questions, and before I know it, the plate is clean. You take it and the empty soda can, presumably to throw them away, but not before re-securing me to the bed.

When you come back in, you sit down next to me again and look at me, as if trying to decide what you're going to do next.

The Victim

I think for a long moment, watching you squirm. I have to admit, it's a most delightfully evil feeling, watching you lying there completely at my mercy. I wonder how long I can string this out before either the fun starts to go out of the situation, or you begin to become either difficult or afraid. I have strong doubts as to whether this could happen, but I don't know how far I can go before you'll decide you are no longer willing to go along with the game. Of course, if you become unwilling, that may cause you to no longer be aroused, so I can't let that happen, at least not completely.

I make my decision, and let you see that in my face. A slow smile comes to my lips, as if a wicked idea had just crossed my mind. "I think, now that you're fed and no longer uncomfortable, I should begin our first phase of the punishment."

"You mean it hasn't even started yet?" you ask, looking a little shocked.

I laugh. "Oh, you mean you thought that oral exercise a few minutes ago was your punishment? No no, I was just enjoying my new toy. I haven't even opened my bag of tricks yet."

I hop down off the bed and pick up the little shiny handbag with the metallic clasp. It doesn't look like it can hold much. In fact, you could describe it as one of those pointless little clutch purses that are very cute and feminine, but not usually to my taste because they can only hold a cell phone and maybe a few articles of makeup or credit cards. There is no room for any serious items of toiletry or a wallet, but you'll find neither makeup nor money in this bag, as you are about to learn.

"Looks harmless, doesn't it?" I ask. "I can see you already have an inkling that looks can be deceiving. I believe in the adage that says that good things come in small packages. Bad things, too. Besides, if there are any bigger toys I may want to use later, I've already got them put away in the apartment so I won't have to lug them around with me. Maybe if you're a good little stalker, I'll let you out of bed so you can play find the toys later. Then we can play with whichever ones you find. Do you like that idea?" My grin broadens as you nod vigorously. "If you take your punishment well, I may reward you with that later, or any number of other delicious little surprises I have up my sleeves."

I reach into the bag and pull out a bottle of lube. I click open the flip-top and squeeze a little onto my fingers. I hold them out to your face, the fingertips glistening. Tentatively, you lick them, and I can see the relief on your face when you discover that it tastes just like it smells. "If you don't like chocolate, I also have strawberry or vanilla. I could also improvise with other things, if we want to get creative later. I have soooo many big plans for us, dear."

I squirt a little dollop of the slippery lube into my palm and spread it over my hands. Then, I begin slowly, agonizingly slowly, rubbing it all over your cock and balls. I feel you tense as I run my hands from the base all the way up the shaft to the head and back again, then around the circumference and back, up and down several times, squeezing slightly. Even after your throbbing maleness is shiny and smells like a chocolate dessert, I continue to run my fingers lightly up and down the underside, occasionally lifting your sack and rolling each nut between my fingers gently and working them slowly in my hand. I knead you like clay for a few seconds, a dreamy look on my face as if I'm not even paying attention. I notice you coming closer and closer to the edge, and I see your stomach and groin muscles tense up a little. I am slightly surprised. I was intending for this to happen, but had no idea it would happen so quickly.

When you tense up like that, I know I've reached my goal and stop, blinking a couple of times as if coming out of a daydream. "Oops, I guess you're pretty well covered now, aren't you? Wouldn't you like me to lick that off now?" I grin and slowly wipe excess oil off my hands. I have no really appropriate place to wipe them off, so I pick an inappropriate place, plunging first one and then the other hand into my cleavage and leaving a glistening residue there on each breast. My skin is warm, so the liquefied lube drips down between my tits and onto my belly. "Or maybe you'd like to lick that off," I ask, grinning even more. "Look at me, I'm such a mess. I have this itchy seasoning from the chicken all over some very sensitive places, and that incredible tongue of yours made me sweat. I'm all sticky and hot all over. I think I need another bath."

I turn slightly away and start pacing, pondering the exact methods I am going to use.

"I think this will be the perfect opportunity for your first lesson."

I reach into the bag again and pull out a simple rubber cock ring. "Hmm... this might be a little tight. But then, that's the point of these silly things, isn't it? Oh, don't worry, your little man isn't going to be strangled to death. He just won't be able to get soft until I take this off. Not that that's much of a problem right now anyway, but I don't like to take chances."

Slowly, I slip the ring over your lubed-up cock, and it goes on pretty smoothly. I snug it all the way to the base, and it looks good. "That's not going anywhere," I say, stroking you just once before walking away. "Be right back," I say with a wink over my shoulder.

When I return, I have a soft, cushiony chair on wheels and some soft, nylon rope. I lean down and untie your hands from the bedposts while leaving the scarves around your wrists. I tie them together, loosely as before, and then free your ankles. I wheel the chair up to the foot of the bed and help you up to your feet, trying not to giggle as you wince in excruciating pleasure as your cock rubs against my hip. I firmly press your shoulders down, and you sit obligingly in the chair. I brace it so it doesn't go rolling away, then slide your arms behind you and tie them to the back of the chair with the soft rope. I bring it around under the chair and secure your ankles to the legs of the chair, making sure the wheels won't catch your skin if they turn sideways, and also making sure your knees are bent apart at a slightly awkward ankle so you don't have much leverage to lift your hips off the chair. Then, I get behind you and wrap my arms around your shoulders, sliding my hand down your belly and to your cock, which is also bound securely by the ring. I smear a little more oil on it to keep things from becoming too painful and then straighten up and wheel you out of the bedroom. I have picked up the bag in one hand as well, and I roll you along into the bathroom until you are sitting in your chair, with the toilet behind you and sideways. You are facing the tub, and I begin tightly binding the extra rope hanging from the back of the chair to the toilet bowl. When this is done, I experimentally push the chair forward. The rope holds it steady, but since it's already bound to the chair legs, it doesn't further constrict your ankles when stress is applied to the back of the chair. I nod in satisfaction, certain that every aspect of this situation is safe, both for me and for you.

"Now I have one more little addition to your setup here," I say, and remove another item from my bag, a double set of tiny lead weights. I slide my hand under you and use a cute little leather harness to attach the weights to your sack so they hang down on either side. "Now," I explain, "you might be tempted to find any way you can to relieve your situation a little while I'm in the shower. I shouldn't take long enough to seriously mess up your circulation, ahem, except maybe in one appendage. This can survive though, so if you try to lift up your hips or apply any friction to make things a little more comfortable, these weights will come off the seat of the chair and just start swinging merrily around. Your boys won't be permanently damaged by this, but it might be a bit unpleasant." I grin at you evilly. "You didn't think I'd let you make a mess on my nice office chair, did you? No, you're still on probation. I'm not going to, ah, release you, until I'm good and ready to." My hand slides over your chest and lingers at one of your nipples.

I turn away from you, confident that you have an excellent view of the shower. "I think I'll leave the curtain open, since you like to watch so much," I say. "I'll try not to get you wet. You might enjoy the idea, but it would only make the ropes feel tight and painful. If the steam is too much, you can just let me know and I'll roll you out into the hall."

You give me a twisted smile and shake your head.

"You're right, that was a little cruel. But that's my prerogative now, isn't it? You see, I know you too well. I think you'd be happy to endure a few pins and needles to get a show like this. How many nights have you gotten yourself all worked up to images of me in the shower? How many times have you had that hopeless fantasy of somehow catching a glimpse of me with hot water dripping down my body? No, you're not going to pass up this golden opportunity."

Satisfied, I sigh and turn away, putting my bag on a table just out of your reach, but within your sight, just to remind you that it's there. I step away and start undressing, humming softly and running first my fingers, then a brush through my hair, acting as if you're not even there. Not only can you see the tub, but from an angle, you can also see the mirror, so you can get views of me from multiple angles. This bathroom is simply lovely for my purposes. The lighting is just right, the room is just large enough to give me enough room to move without running into you, but I'm still just a little too close to you, so you could reach out and touch me, if only your eager hands were free.

I start the water and step in, aiming the shower head to keep it from getting the floor outside the tub wet. I stand under the current, letting hot water flow over me for a long, luxurious minute or two before lathering my hair up with shampoo. This is only the setup, and we both know it. My hair isn't too dirty, so I only give it a brief wash before I turn off the shower and start soaping up. I run the cloth slowly over my body, letting suds drip over me and cover me in creamy white foam. I spend a good deal of time on my breasts, then start examining them slowly, kneading and rolling them between my hands. You're practically drooling as I rub more soap over the nipples until they glisten like hard, pink little jewels. Then I move down to my stomach and soap up my legs, lathering up furiously until suds froth off my thighs.

I take one hand and slide it into the folds between my thighs, sighing with pleasure. I moan softly as I start to feel sensations building almost beyond my control. I can feel your eyes crawling over me, wishing they could jump out of your head and touch me. I can sense you straining unconsciously at your bonds as you sit there immobilized, unable to do what you so desire and put your hands, or other parts of you, where mine are right now. I lower myself into the tub and begin feverishly working my fingers along the pink folds and over my clit, writhing and arching my back and hips upward as a long, unbelievably deep orgasm starts in my core and radiates seemingly all the way up into my chest and down to my kneecaps. It keeps building, getting stronger and stronger until I can no longer control myself and find myself emitting a series of loud cries, almost as if I'm in pain. Vaguely, I notice you start desperately rubbing your crotch against the soft chair fabric, but you stop and freeze as the weights slide free and start swinging around, causing a tightness in your balls that is more psychologically painful than physically. You sit still for the rest of that time, not wanting to send those weights swinging again. As this is going on, I can barely breathe as the continuous orgasms build to a peak that I thought the human body was incapable of reaching. I thought my nerves might short out at the intensity.

At last, the waves of pleasure subside and I lay there in the steamy tub, panting and trying to get my bearings again. You're staring at me with goggle-eyes, and I almost laugh out loud.

I stand up, my body slippery with soap, and rinse off. When I'm done, I step out and towel off in front of you, turning slowly on the spot as I dry off my back and buttocks. I reach over and grab something off the back of the toilet behind you. When I shake it out, you can see it's a plain, silky nightgown, similar to the previous one, but with no shiny oil-stains on it.

Without a word, I release your anchor to the toilet and start rolling the chair into the hall. I untie your feet but quickly bind them together, loosely enough to provide circulation, but tight enough to trip you up if you tried to walk. I untied your hands from the chair, leaving them bound together, then help you up onto your feet. I position you in front of the toilet without a word, holding your prick in one hand and aiming it. "If you've gotta go, you'd better do it now," I say. You look a little taken aback, but you do as you're told, with some difficulty.

Satisfied, I lead you back to the chair and press you down into it again, quickly securing the ropes at your ankles and wrists to the arms and bottom of the chair before snagging my bag off the table and rolling the chair back into the bedroom. I put the bag down on the night table next to the bed, then untie you from the chair again, position you next to the bed, and tip the chair back and slide you neatly back onto the bed. "Whoops-a-daisy," I say. "I guess all those work-outs at the gym paid off, didn't they? In case you're wondering, I didn't have any help getting you into and out of the car or into this apartment either. But I'm sure that's not what's on your mind right now, is it?"