There was no way that the girl could escape her situation. This she knew, and so did he. So there was no urgency to his questions, except that caused by his own lust. For her part the girl waited, resigned.
It was late afternoon, in the fall, and the sunlight shafted in through the attic window bright and golden. It fell upon the girl's lithe body, which shone with a fine sheen of sweat. Her position was strenuous, and she had been bound thus for quite some time.
She was spread-eagle, and she was naked. A broad, black gag turned her cries to muffled moans. A blindfold kept her in anxious darkness. Her wrists and ankles were spread wide and cuffed with thick leather straps to rings in the overhead beam and the floor. She stood on tip toes, bowed gently backwards, her body a quivering arc that thrust her feminine charms into lull view.
How displayed she was, how vulnerable, how suited to the touch of a hand, the kiss of a whip, the thrust of a cock!
Her mane of chestnut hair caught the sunlight and glowed. She was a dreamlike vision of eroticism, intoxicating in her provocative position.
I know. I was there.
My cock was hard, twitching with urgent need. My hand gripped the handle of the whip. My heart pounded. I was bewitched by the spectacle of bound eroticism I had created. It was the girl who was driving me now. She alone, racked out and helpless, controlled my thoughts and actions. Her moans would guide me more explicitly than words; the eloquence of her body would command my deeds. I had captured her, sure, and made her mine. But now I was the prisoner and she had made me hers. In submitting, she conquered. It was infuriating.
But there could be justice. I could make her pay a price for her control. I held the whip. And with it I could ensure that she not lapse for a second from her role as a captured temptress. My whip would stoke her fires, and they would consume me with their liquid heat.
Thrusting out at me from the 'V' of her legs, her thatch of hair proclaimed her sexuality. How inviting it looked, how warm and dark! How good it would feel to have those soft lips part around my cock, to feel the bristling caress of her hair as I eased into her.
That is the glorious moment of contact! That first oozing penetration when you feel you might go mad with pleasure, burning hot and white from your cock to your brain. Like a climax itself the first conquering thrust overwhelms the senses.
As if watching a character in a movie fulfilling his destiny, I stepped up to the captive and grasped her naked hips.
She moaned and her head drooped backwards as she wailed into her gag. The tip of my cock, now hard and urgent in its need, rested against her quivering slit. I gripped her sweaty flanks and rotated her around and against me, gently nudging her cunt with my cock.
Her small body bowed away from me, cresting with her taut breasts that pointed almost to the ceiling. I bent over her curved torso and gently kissed her nipples, drawing a long, low moan from the girl and causing her cunt to hump down against my cock.
It was she, in this reflexive motion, that thus began the fucking. For as she bucked her cunt against me, my cock parted her lips and penetrated slightly into her. She hummed through her gag, nostrils flaring, breasts rising and falling with labored, panting breaths.
But she could hump down no further, her bonds saw to that. And so she could not complete the penetration. I was back in control. She would have to wait for the pleasure of having her cunt filled until I decided to thrust. And I would make her wait! I would extract from her racked-out body the most wanton gyrations, the most lunatic of moaned entreaties, the most lascivious of writhings before I gave her my cock. I would make her body beg.
Like Greek statues we stood frozen, she spread and naked, whimpering with lust, me gripping her hips and grating my teeth trying to resist thrusting into her hard and deep.
The intensity of the pleasure as well as the intoxicating power of the situation, drew my orgasm from me. I screamed with the feel of it, an explosive climax rocketing from the base of my spine to the tip of my cock. Unable to move I felt my cock twitch and spurt, and my knees buckled. It must have been an extraordinary feeling for the girl, too. She moaned loudly and her cunt seemed to throb.
As I came, I drove my cock into the hilt in her clasping pussy. I groaned and cried and gripped her hips as I tried to send my cock all the way to her head.
Her body stiffened as she came, our muscles clenching and locking our forms, welding our passions together.
At the end of my climax, I remember languidly slipping to the floor between her knees. For a second I saw her body unfreeze itself and ripple as a series of alter-climaxes hit her. Lying beside me on the floor was the long slender whip that I would soon use on the very flesh that had just consumed me. But for the moment I was too sated to move. I gave in to my bliss and let the darkness wash over me.
Editor's Note: This story was submitted mysteriously by "Gama," who asked us to print it, but left us with no way to contacting him. If you're out there, Gama, please get in touch with our editorial offices.
