Blair ties you up

Blair’s return downstairs is an entrance. She’s wearing a figure-hugging, black, leather body suit, that cuts low to reveal her cleavage and high to show all her thigh. She’s tied her blond hair back into a ponytail. The black, leather boots she’s wearing rise to her knees and have the most ridiculous set of high heels you’ve ever seen. She walks in them with confidence. She was taller than you before she put on the high heels, now she towers over you. All this is complemented with a dash of makeup that adds menace.

“You finished that drink yet?” You haven’t. She almost thrusts the cup into your face, and you find yourself slurping the last dregs of the ginger overload.

“Good boy,” she tells you as you finish. Then she holds out one hand. It contains the collar. “Put this on.” Her tone brooks no dithering. You put it on. “Good boy.” Then she leans down and kisses you, a passionate, frantic kiss, which is almost an **** on your tongue. When she pulls back, your lips feel bruised.

“Strip.” Again, no room for argument. You’re soon standing naked in your kitchen, the tall, blond, busty goddess in leather appraising you. Thankfully, your manhood has risen to the occasion. She runs a leather gloved hand over it in appreciation. The same leather gloved hand that slaps your bare ass when she tells you, “Get upstairs, now.”

She’s reorganised your bed, adding four chains, two connected to the headboard, two to the bed’s back feet. Each chain ends in a Velcro cuff. “Lie down, on your back.” First, she cuffs your ankles. She adjusts the chains and your legs splay across he mattress. Then she clambers over you to confine your wrists. Your arms are soon as splayed as your legs. You’re an X of flesh and bone posed on the mattress.

She steps back to admire her work. Her leather hands move back to your cock, only semi-hard. “This won’t do.” She tugs on it. “Don’t like what you’re seeing?”

“I do. I do.”

“Doesn’t look that way. Do you want to see more?”

Is this a trap. Sod it. “I do. I want to see more.”

She shakes her head. Then there’s a swipe and the softer, lighter paddle smacks into the side of your ass. “Bad boy. You’ll only see what I want you to see. Whatever I show you should be enough. You’re mistress’ pet. You obey mistress.” Your penis is starting to respond. To the half-hearted handjob? To the vision of the leather clad beauty? To the swat? To the instructions? “You’ll learn, though.”

She unzips her boots and steps out of them. Then she clambers onto the bed, straddling your stomach. One leather gloved hand reaches behind her to continue tugging your shaft. The other moves to the front of her outfit. There’s a short zip down the front of her bodysuit. She tugs it down, and her breasts burst loose. You’ve seen them before, but the way they tumble out of the tight clothing is mesmeric. Blair has breasts most women would die for, most men would die to feel. Your cock responds to the vision much better than it did to her coaxing. Her blue eyes light up as she feels it.

Then she leans down, and she smothers you with them. “Go on, suck on my nipples. Kiss them.”

You don’t need any encouragement. Your face is enveloped in soft flesh. Your lips find the kernel of hardness that is her nipples. Your tongue plays around her areola. First, she smothers you with her left breast, then her right, then back to her left, oily with your previous kisses, then back to the right. The only moments for breath are when she switches.

She pulls off. She’s flushed. Her eyes are wild. She shifts on top of you. Scrambles over your body, so all you see is her leather trapped ass. There’s a panel at the bottom of her bodysuit. She unhooks it to reveal a crotchless interior. Lined up with that gap is her slit. She shifts, so it’s above your face, then lowers it into position. The aroma of leather is overwhelmed by the scent of her sex. The leather flap sits on your nose and forehead. Her slit descends directly to your mouth.

You know what to do. Your tongue reaches out to lap at her juices. It plunges into her hole. It runs along her folds, digging out her clit. She shifts to accommodate your lips. They join forces with your tongue to tease, to caress, to cajole. “God, your tongue is almost as good as your cock.”

She tries to stifle her moans by plugging her mouth with your shaft. In no time at all it’s stiff, it’s solid, and it’s bathed in her saliva. She sucks it deep. She swallows it whole. She gags on it. But through it all her moans continue, massaging the obstruction, loud when she pulls out for air.

She cums. And her juices explode from her cunt, to cascade down your cheeks, and pool in your chin. Her body quivers above you. A shimmering ass sweaty with enjoyment.

“Your reward. But don’t cum inside me. Don’t cum until I tell you to.”

And she shifts her body again. Taking her pussy away from your mouth. Dragging it towards your straining cock. Raising her hips so they hang above it, as her hands hold it still. Then she lowers those hips, and you re-enter heaven.

Her throat is wonderful. Her pussy is better. The last vestiges of her orgasm shimmer as you enter her. Her hot, sodden wet flesh clings for only a fraction before you slide deeper in. Until she’s sitting on your balls, letting out a groan of complete satisfaction, a groan you’re willing to contribute to.

For a moment she pauses. You can’t have that. You wiggle your ass. You’re already all the way in, so you can’t thrust upwards, and she’s sitting on you, pressing you into the mattress, so you can’t withdraw. Even the wiggling is too much. She slaps your thigh. She’s still carrying one of the paddles.

“Fuck. No movement. I decide when we fuck.” Her order is undermined by the whine of desire. She’s in control, but only just. Even that wiggling was enough to ramp her pleasure, to set her pussy quivering again. You wiggle again. She slaps you again. But the pain of the slap is as nothing compared to the pleasure of the wiggle. She’s not ready to ride you, but she’s doing it anyway.

Her motions are frantic. You see her leather clad ass bouncing up and down. You see the flap that give you access to her love tunnel swing wildly with her motions. She’s trying to set a pace, but her pleasure keeps making her stutter, keeps making her lose control. Every time she tries to pause you wiggle your ass, and your cock rubs against her insides and she screams some invective. Her second orgasm washes your balls. Her third makes her lose control. She slumps onto the bed, her body quivering, her voice hoarse with her deprecations to God.

This time it’s too much for you. You’ve been holding on. Thinking of anything but the goddess riding you. Unsexy thoughts don’t spring to your mind. Every time you think of one, they devolve into Blair, naked and sweaty, breasts bouncing, blue eyes blazing, pussy dominating. Unsexy thoughts can’t compete with sex addled reality. You fire your load into her. And the only way she can react is to scream “God” multiple times into the room.

It feels like eternity before she finally pulls herself off. She slowly works her way off the bed and stands to look at you. Her face is flushed. Her tits are flushed. A sheen of sweat covers her pale skin. A look of satisfaction fills her blue eyes. Satisfaction that is quickly quashed.

“I told you not to cum in me. And yet you did.”

You start to say you’re sorry, but she ignores you and stumbles to the en-suite bathroom. When she re-emerges she’s zipped up her bodysuit to re-confine her breasts and reattached the flap to cover her pussy. Her eyes show she’s back in control.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself,” you begin.

Her mouth cracks a smile. “You couldn’t control yourself. You will learn to control yourself, understand? You will be punished for your action.”

“Punished?”

“Of course. You will lie there tonight and contemplate how you’ve disappointed me.” She doesn’t look disappointed. She looks like she can barely stand. She’s moving to her other clothes, pulling them on.

“You’re not staying the night?”

“I can’t, however much I want to, my baby’s waiting for me.”

“Baby?”

She sees the panic and laughs. “You think I have a child? I mean Giggsy, the love of my life. One day, when you’ve proven your worth, I’ll let you meet him. You should know, you may be a remarkable man, but you’ll never supplant a woman’s love for her dog.”

She wanders to your trousers, fishes around in the pockets and pulls out your keys. She pockets them.

“What are you doing? Release me.”

“No. This is your punishment. You’re staying like that tonight. I’ll be back in the morning to release you.”

What. No. No. You can’t stay like this. Tied to the bed. No. You pull against chains, but they’re wrapped too tight. The Velcro straps are fresh and tight. Maybe you’d be able to pull yourself free. Maybe not.

“You can’t do this, Blair. No. Let me go.”

Blair walks to your side, leans over and kisses you, smothering your words. She turns to leave. No, she can’t do that. She can’t leave you this way. You rattle the chains in your frustration.

At the door she pauses and looks back. There’s no sign of her fucked woman now, just the PE teacher always in control.

“You must learn to control yourself. If you’re like that when I get back, I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me, how?”

“If you like what we did just now, you’ll love your reward.”

And then she walks out of the room. You can hear her descend the stairs, open the front door, shut it, lock it. And you’re alone, helpless, naked, shackled to the bed.