Blindfold Bondage

You awaken in darkness, still with that slightly unreal feeling that comes with having drunk a little too much wine the evening before.

Gradually, as consciousness returns, you recall the night in snatches. There was a party, a lot of wine, music, dancing. As midnight neared, you went to leave and then... nothing. You stretch and realise that you are immobilised on your back, hands fastened at your sides, ankles bound together. Now you can feel a blindfold tight over your eyes. Wherever you are, it is warm and cushioned. You feel breath against your neck and a voice whispers in your ear, "ah, my beauty awakes." You feel lips on your earlobe and then a gentle nibbling and blowing.

"Where am I?" you ask, panicked.

"Somewhere safe," the voice replies. It is familiar and unthreatening, somehow comforting, "don't worry, you are only here for pleasure."

"But..."

"Hush, my sweet, just relax and enjoy yourself."

Lips gently kiss your neck, lightly nipping the flesh, and a hand touches your cheek so slightly that you're not even sure if perhaps you are only imagining it. You hear familiar music playing quietly in the background, and allow yourself to relax into the sublime pleasure of being adored whilst unable to resist. Lips touch your own, brushing over them slowly, and you feel a tongue trace their line and then probe between them. You allow your lips to part slightly and the intruder nudges the tip of your own tongue before pulling back to trace a line from the corner of your mouth to your cheek. A moist kiss touches the tip of your nose. Then the unseen face moves lower, trailing a path down your neck and towards your heaving bosoms.

Now you are acutely aware of your nakedness, as hands move to cup your breasts and support their weight while a trail of moisture is laid along your cleavage. All of your senses are focused on the tongue as it traces a sensual figure eight around your magnificent globes. Lips brush your own again. "The balcony is crowded." You almost feel the words against your face, rather than hear them, before the mouth descends once more and the tongue repeats its circuitous route, again and again, each time in smaller circles so that you feel a heightening sense of imminence as it grows ever nearer to the central pinnacle of their sensual focus. Finally it laps around your aureole, then you feel soft breath directed onto each nipple before the tongue resumes, flicking each so that you strain upward to meet its action. One forefinger settles on each aroused bud, pressing gently and then beginning slow circular movements, one clockwise, one anti-clockwise, then reversing, always one contrary to the other as nerve endings tingle sensation through to your racing mind.

The mouth lowers completely onto your left breast, sucking its fullness as though trying to encompass it in its entirety, to devour it, then repeating this hungry nuzzling of your sweet, sweat-sheened flesh on your other heaving mound. Meanwhile the hands of your captor (you are captured, you sharply recall, held against your will!) begin to squeeze and caress your swollen breasts. Then they are held firmly, pressed together, and you feel teeth lightly nibbling first one painfully erect nipple, then the other, switching between the two and gradually increasing the pressure until their very tips are nipped ever so gently. A soft kiss is then administered to each before the lips return to your own in a warm, moist kiss.

"Enjoying the attention, I hope," the voice murmurs. It sounds so familiar, yet you can't quite place it. "We have hours together yet." You feel yourself being rolled onto your front and then a hand at your back loosening your tethers and releasing your hands. You realise that you are now partially free, and begin to struggle weakly, but the sharp crack of an open palm across your buttocks warns you against this course of action.

"Such a pretty derriere, t'would be a shame to have to spank it to a bruising."

The voice is louder this time, somehow harder, and something in its tone tells you that resistance at this point would be fruitless. Your ankles are also freed and your captor raises you until you are on your hands and knees, your arms drawn back so that your wrists are against your knees, and these are then bound together in this position by the two lengths of velveteen fabric which had maintained your previous pose.

You settle back on your haunches, your bottom resting on your heels, your breasts hanging, pendulously exposed, before you. You are aware that you have a greater range of motion in this position, but with no idea of your surroundings apart from the mattress below you, or of your captors position, you decide to remain submissive for the time being.

A hand insinuates itself between your thighs, cupping the puffy moistness of your shaven sex, then a finger rubs lightly over your engorged clitoris. A second joins it and they massage within your outer lips before easing themselves into the moistness of your slick passage. They plunge deeply and work in a circular motion. You gasp with arousal and the fingers are removed.

"I can tell you're enjoying yourself," The voice is hushed and soothing once more, "but I will dictate the pace of your pleasure and you must know that there will be discipline."

You are pushed forward so that your weight is borne by your palms and six sharp smacks rain in quick succession on the upturned globes of your bottom. There is not pain, so much, as shock, and your sharp cries sound almost as though you are on the verge of an orgasm.

"You are here for pleasure, I will not hurt you, but control must be mine."

"Yes, I understand," you whisper meekly.

Now kisses replace the slaps on your buttocks, light touches of your captor's, no, your master's lips against the stinging flesh, and the bright flare of pain eases rapidly under their liquid embrace. Then the tongue again, circling each sphere, finally licking oh-so-slowly along the crease to the puckered entrance. A light nibble of the flesh there, then the tongue eases slightly into the tight opening, probing softly, hotly; then out and further down to the glistening lips of your pulsating loins, where it stretches, swelling, into your hot wetness, thrusting quickly, drawing back slowly, then thrusting again.

"So sweet, so sweet." Your captor draws himself close behind you, and you feel his manhood, erect, swollen, pressing against your aching wetness, his hands reaching around to cup and squeeze your breasts as he eases his thickness into you, filling you, taking you over the brink...

You awake in darkness, but with soft, morning light just beginning to break through the curtains of your bedroom, casting light and shadow on the walls. You are alone. You run your hands over you body, smooth with sweat, savouring the last moments of your dream... or was it a memory?