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“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Max
Resisting Stretch’s sweetness is impossible. Wrapped around her, my chest presses against her soft breasts as though her feminine form is a lifeline.
“Damn, you feel good, woman,” I murmur, nuzzling under the soft cloth at her neck. I want to rip this stupid mask off, look into her eyes, and hear her pleading for my cock. I wouldn’t give it to her, of course, but it would be nice to listen to her beg.
This is completely nuts—but in all the best ways.
What starts as a restrained kiss, quickly becomes insistent as my mouth devours and dominates hers. Eager and enthusiastic, Stretch doesn’t hold back either, which isn’t very submissive. When she catches and sucks my tongue, I groan, pressing my erection into her soft flesh. Responsive as ever, she shifts to place my dick where she most wants it.
Right now, she’s mine. I want to fuck her silly, take her home, and bind her to me forever. I long to give her what she wants. What she needs.
I like complete control with my subs. It’s why I touch them—they’re not allowed to touch me. Stretch makes a humming sound of pleasure, but doesn’t stop kissing me. She wantonly ravages my mouth as though she’ll swallow me whole. Thoroughly kissed, I come up for air—as breathless as she is.
The instant I begin to pull away, she nips my bottom lip hard. Hissing through my teeth, I laugh out loud, astonished to taste iron.
“A love bite? Seriously?” I gasp.
Regarding her mischievous smile, I watch her nod vigorously. Damn, “love bite” describes it to a T. Does she know she’s made me bleed? That should earn her some disciplinary action, except that I don’t mind. Surprisingly, my nose doesn’t register the queasy scent of blood. I only smell her. The sexy minx’s aggression is a tremendous turn on.
“Jesus, woman, what are you doing to me?” I whisper, stunned to be so affected by this tall, silent, and stubbornly independent little sub.
The intensity of my connection to Stretch is messing with my mind. Stepping away is difficult, but I tell myself to carefully check her body. Staying too long in one position can strain and tighten muscles. I want her supple as I shoot for ten out of ten in the orgasm department.
Unlocking her ankle cuffs, I remove the spreader bar, placing it out of the way. Then I massage her hips and legs, working out the strain to make sure every joint and ligament is loose. Engaging the winch to lower her arms, I get her to stretch them out.
“Shoulders OK?” I ask, lightly rubbing them.
She shrugs.
Gently opening the fist that’s tightly clutching the scarf, I massage her hand, marveling at her slim, feminine fingers so different to my own. Afterwards, I place the scarf into her other hand.
“Right. This deliciously tight corset has to go. I want you naked. Besides, you’ll need all the lung capacity you can get once you start screaming.” Chuckling at the dark comment, I unlace the corset, opening it from top to bottom. Unhooking each chain from her wrist cuffs one by one, I’m able to take off the outfit completely. The woman has a perfect tan with no tan lines.
“Beautiful,” I murmur thickly, stroking down her curvy feminine body, admiring the way her flawless breasts defy gravity. “You look so fit, strong and flexible. You must work out every day.”
Her lips twitch into a smile as she nods, proud of herself with good reason.
“A woman with your level of fitness should be able to take a lot of punishment.” When she stiffens with fear, I laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Remember your scarf. You can make me stop anytime.”
She nods.
“Right, time to lose the stockings and the heels.” Dropping to one knee, I lightly run my hands up her leg, taking my time to admire her, while removing one thigh-high stocking. Gently lifting her foot, I unbuckle and remove her shoe. Kissing her ankle, I place my thumb just below the ball of her foot, pressing in deep.
Stretch gives a low moan.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I chuckle. “All part of the service, gorgeous.” Grinning, I continue rubbing in small circles. After kneading her arch, and massaging every toe, I press my lips against her foot once more, then put it back down to the floor.
After removing her other shoe and stocking, then doing the same with her other leg, I push to my feet to stand in front of her. “Everything OK?”
She nods.
“Ready to continue?”
Another nod.
“I understand you enjoy the sensual bite of a flogger.”
Biting her lower lip, Stretch inclines her head in a hesitant manner. Her lust combined with anxiety is sexy as fuck.
“Perfect,” I murmur, envisioning my devious plans for her. “OK. Now I want the weight of your body on your toes,” I say, engaging the winch to raise her arms over her head, getting her into the perfect position.
This is called predicament bondage. The poor girl is restrained with an option of being on her tip toes to rest her upper body, or relaxing her calves and feet, placing weight and strain on her arms. This way her buttocks and thighs will take most of the work. This will increase the blood flow in her abs, pelvis, and groin, intensifying the strength of her orgasm.
“You look amazing,” I say, beginning to gently whip her soft skin with a black leather flogger. “Not just hot, but stripper hot. Hanging from the ceiling in chains, arms up above your head. Naughty toy in your ass. Restrained for my pleasure. Your job is to focus on my will. I’ll take care of the rest.”
