The little tease was face down on my bed, with her hands cuffed behind her. I ran my hands up under her shirt, and undid the clasp of her bra. She was talking, telling me that it was ok, that if I let her go she wouldn't do or say anything to anyone. Telling me that she was sorry. I ignored her and slowly moved my hands up and down her back, and then slowly down around and under her sides, feeling the full round weight of her breasts in my palms. She was struggling under me, kicking her feet around but I outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.
I pushed her shirt up farther, so that it was bunched up around her shoulders. Her skin was like ivory, cool to the touch and pale enough to be able to see the veins beneath. Beautiful, so beautiful. Moving my hands down and underneath her again, I found her nipples with my fingers and pinched them both, hard. She screamed, writhing under me harder, but I just sat down harder, letting her know that there was no way I was going to let her go.
I'd had about as much fun as I could like this, so I flipped her over, quickly, not giving her any time to react. As I admired her breasts, and the flat of her stomach, she started to get louder about her objections, complaining that the cuffs were too tight, that they were hurting her wrists. I gave her a look, ignored her and started kissing and licking my way up from her navel to her breasts, slowly trailing my tongue up to first one nipple then the other. She struggled against me, saying ”no” over and over again as I kissed and sucked and bit them, left, then right, then left again. Feeling her body arch under me and her nipples getting harder and harder every time my mouth touched them was exciting me more and more. But her constant chatter and begging, although exciting as well, was getting to be an annoyance.
Her shirt was bunched up at her shoulders, so I pulled it up into her mouth, gagging her with it. Her eyes went wide, and she moaned into the gag. It was quieter, and so much sexier.
I hadn’t said a word to her yet, just continued to touch and kiss all of the bits of exposed skin I could reach without getting off of her. After a few minutes, I stopped and making sure I had her attention, I smiled and pulled the key to the cuffs out of my pocket. She got this look of relief in her eyes, and I flipped her back over, so that I could get at the cuffs. I unlocked only one, and then turned her back over. Her face was so hopeful, and the look stayed there until she realized that I was pulling her arm up to cuff her to the headboard of the bed. She started fighting me, trying to buck me off, pull her wrist out of my grasp, anything that she could do. Behind the shirt in her mouth, she was screaming.
But none of that stopped me from pulling her arms up over her head, snaking the cuffs behind the cast-iron decoration of the headboard and locking them back in place. Straddling her chest, looking down at her, seeing that the relived look had been replaced by one of complete terror, I started laughing.
Which is when she started crying.
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