Three hours of shameless flirting had left her with nothing. She eyed him across the table, idly toying with a glass of wine. He was polite and charming, always able to make her laugh, but today he had brushed aside her hand at every touch. She was losing concentration, daydreaming about his body pressing down on top of hers, and she missed her cue to laugh at his latest anecdote. He frowned across at her. “You’re not listening,” he sighed, “but perhaps your birthday presents will hold your attention a little better?” She smiled in anticipation and he led her upstairs, pausing at the bedroom door to cover her eyes with his hands.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he cautioned, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. "... And open them.” He was stood directly in front of her, her eyes level with his belt buckle. He gestured to the end of the bed, where four brown parcels lay unopened. With a childish laugh of gratification she reached out for the closest parcel, but before her hand could close around it she recoiled in shock, falling back from the force of the cold hard slap across her face. His body was instantly on top of hers, one knee across her stomach, pinning her down, her hands forced high above her head. As she lay helpless beneath him he paused, taking in her wide shocked eyes and the deep red mark appearing across her cheek. Leaning forward, he tenderly kissed where his hand had struck. “You mustn’t take without asking,” he warned her in a cold, expressionless voice, his eyes daring her to laugh. “Repeat after me: I will not take without asking.”
Her lip curled into a smile as she rolled her eyes. “I will not take without asking,” she chanted.
Irritated, his hand quickly slid down to her throat, his grip growing tighter as she tried to gasp for air. “I don’t think you realise the seriousness of the situation. If you don’t do as I say then you will have to be punished.” He loosened his grip on her throat and she breathed in deeply, but before her body could relax his hand tightened again. “Repeat after me: I – Will – Not – Take – Without – Asking.” His words were slow and deliberate, dragging out the seconds she was unable to breathe. He waited until he could see the panic in her eyes before releasing his grip. “Say it,” he commanded.
Their eyes held as she repeated his words: “I Will Not Take Without Asking”.
With this concession his interest evaporated and he got up, leaving her on the bed. As he sat down on the far side of the room their eyes locked; uncertain, she rose to join him. “Stay there,” he commanded quietly. She paused, watching him, his legs were spread apart, his hardness clearly visible through his jeans. He was enjoying her discomfort as she hovered uncertainly by the bed, not knowing whether to challenge him or not. “Take your dress off,” he said, lazily unzipping his jeans. Whilst she fumbled with her dress, he slid a hand inside his jeans and began to slowly slide it up and down. She stood before him, almost naked, with her pale skin in deep contrast against the bright scarlet underwear. “Take off your bra,” he instructed, gazing as she revealed her hard nipples, desperate to be touched. Minutes passed and she grew hot under the intensity of the stare, his eyes roving over her body as she stood before him.
Finally he spoke. “Come here and turn around. Put your hands together behind your back.” She followed his orders and felt him bind a rope tightly round her wrists, locking her hands together. “Take four steps forward.” Again he left her standing there for minutes, and she could feel his eyes burning into her. “Turn round and take your knickers off.” She could tell he enjoyed watching her struggle, her hands still bound tightly whilst she tried to pull her knickers down. Finally she stood naked before him, all the time watching his hand slide up and down in his jeans. Her discomfort at standing naked in front of him was visible, but he enjoyed the feeling of power, his ability to make her do things against her will.
“Stand with your legs apart.”
She was growing increasingly uncomfortable. “No,” she muttered, dropping her gaze.
“No?” he questioned. She stared stubbornly at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. Slowly zipping up his jeans, he moved to stand beside her. “No?” he whispered in her ear, snaking a hand around the soft curve of her waist. His other hand slipped gently up her back, reaching the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. “NO?” he shouted, grabbing a handful of her hair, wrenching her head backwards. In one swift movement he forced her down to kneel by the side of the bed. Face pressed deep into the duvet, her bottom resting over the edge of the mattress. He stood astride her; cupping his hand under her chin as he roughly pushed a gag into her mouth. “You don’t say no to me,” he hissed as he knelt beside her on the bed, one leg pressing into her back, forcing her down. Her hands, still tied behind her back, were powerless to resist the hard smacks he inflicted upon her.
As she started to whimper, he left gaps between the blows, stroking her, slowly inching closer to the wet between her legs. Finally he turned her over to lie on her back, stroking her lips that were still clamped tightly around the gag. He placed her bound hands between her thighs, and watched with fascination as she slid her fingers inside.
“Don’t stop,” he muttered, leaving her lying on the bed as he lit the row of candles sat on the bedside table. He watched her hypnotically, waiting for the wax to melt before pulling his trousers off and moving between her legs to thrust himself inside her. Her moans grew deeper, the longing was clear in her voice. He lifted a candle across and blew it out. As the smoke drifted away he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside her, her moans muffled by the gag. Flicking his wrist, he suddenly dripped the hot wax down her chest. He had caught her off guard and felt her whole body convulse with shock, tightening around him making him spasm in response. “Happy birthday,” he muttered as he reached down to brush the wax from her breasts.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he cautioned, sitting her down on the edge of the bed. "... And open them.” He was stood directly in front of her, her eyes level with his belt buckle. He gestured to the end of the bed, where four brown parcels lay unopened. With a childish laugh of gratification she reached out for the closest parcel, but before her hand could close around it she recoiled in shock, falling back from the force of the cold hard slap across her face. His body was instantly on top of hers, one knee across her stomach, pinning her down, her hands forced high above her head. As she lay helpless beneath him he paused, taking in her wide shocked eyes and the deep red mark appearing across her cheek. Leaning forward, he tenderly kissed where his hand had struck. “You mustn’t take without asking,” he warned her in a cold, expressionless voice, his eyes daring her to laugh. “Repeat after me: I will not take without asking.”
Her lip curled into a smile as she rolled her eyes. “I will not take without asking,” she chanted.
Irritated, his hand quickly slid down to her throat, his grip growing tighter as she tried to gasp for air. “I don’t think you realise the seriousness of the situation. If you don’t do as I say then you will have to be punished.” He loosened his grip on her throat and she breathed in deeply, but before her body could relax his hand tightened again. “Repeat after me: I – Will – Not – Take – Without – Asking.” His words were slow and deliberate, dragging out the seconds she was unable to breathe. He waited until he could see the panic in her eyes before releasing his grip. “Say it,” he commanded.
Their eyes held as she repeated his words: “I Will Not Take Without Asking”.
With this concession his interest evaporated and he got up, leaving her on the bed. As he sat down on the far side of the room their eyes locked; uncertain, she rose to join him. “Stay there,” he commanded quietly. She paused, watching him, his legs were spread apart, his hardness clearly visible through his jeans. He was enjoying her discomfort as she hovered uncertainly by the bed, not knowing whether to challenge him or not. “Take your dress off,” he said, lazily unzipping his jeans. Whilst she fumbled with her dress, he slid a hand inside his jeans and began to slowly slide it up and down. She stood before him, almost naked, with her pale skin in deep contrast against the bright scarlet underwear. “Take off your bra,” he instructed, gazing as she revealed her hard nipples, desperate to be touched. Minutes passed and she grew hot under the intensity of the stare, his eyes roving over her body as she stood before him.
Finally he spoke. “Come here and turn around. Put your hands together behind your back.” She followed his orders and felt him bind a rope tightly round her wrists, locking her hands together. “Take four steps forward.” Again he left her standing there for minutes, and she could feel his eyes burning into her. “Turn round and take your knickers off.” She could tell he enjoyed watching her struggle, her hands still bound tightly whilst she tried to pull her knickers down. Finally she stood naked before him, all the time watching his hand slide up and down in his jeans. Her discomfort at standing naked in front of him was visible, but he enjoyed the feeling of power, his ability to make her do things against her will.
“Stand with your legs apart.”
She was growing increasingly uncomfortable. “No,” she muttered, dropping her gaze.
“No?” he questioned. She stared stubbornly at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. Slowly zipping up his jeans, he moved to stand beside her. “No?” he whispered in her ear, snaking a hand around the soft curve of her waist. His other hand slipped gently up her back, reaching the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. “NO?” he shouted, grabbing a handful of her hair, wrenching her head backwards. In one swift movement he forced her down to kneel by the side of the bed. Face pressed deep into the duvet, her bottom resting over the edge of the mattress. He stood astride her; cupping his hand under her chin as he roughly pushed a gag into her mouth. “You don’t say no to me,” he hissed as he knelt beside her on the bed, one leg pressing into her back, forcing her down. Her hands, still tied behind her back, were powerless to resist the hard smacks he inflicted upon her.
As she started to whimper, he left gaps between the blows, stroking her, slowly inching closer to the wet between her legs. Finally he turned her over to lie on her back, stroking her lips that were still clamped tightly around the gag. He placed her bound hands between her thighs, and watched with fascination as she slid her fingers inside.
“Don’t stop,” he muttered, leaving her lying on the bed as he lit the row of candles sat on the bedside table. He watched her hypnotically, waiting for the wax to melt before pulling his trousers off and moving between her legs to thrust himself inside her. Her moans grew deeper, the longing was clear in her voice. He lifted a candle across and blew it out. As the smoke drifted away he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside her, her moans muffled by the gag. Flicking his wrist, he suddenly dripped the hot wax down her chest. He had caught her off guard and felt her whole body convulse with shock, tightening around him making him spasm in response. “Happy birthday,” he muttered as he reached down to brush the wax from her breasts.
