by Landon Dixon
I did as she asked. From behind me, I heard the noise of something being attached to the wood. When I lowered my head once more, it met the gently yielding softness of a pillow. A pillow that must be covered in latex, from the faint rubbery aroma it gave off. Sienna was correct, though. It did make lying on the table more comfortable.
‘But the really ingenious thing about this table,’ Sienna continued blithely, ‘is that there’s a restraint attached to each of the legs.’
A faint alarm bell went off in my head at the word “restraint”, but almost before I could react to it, Sienna had caught hold of my left wrist. Working with an efficiency that suggested she’d done the same thing many times before, she wrapped a thick leather cuff round my wrist and buckled it in place, securing me to the table leg.
‘Sienna, I’m not sure you should be doing this ...’ I began, as she repeated the process with my right wrist.
‘Nonsense, darling. However are you going to write a piece worthy of the name if you don’t experience what this table can do first hand?’
She moved round, to start cuffing my ankles. Was the recorder picking up the sounds of metal clinking as the buckles were fastened shut?
‘I spoke to a woman last week who’d given birth on her table. She didn’t expect me to do the same thing.’
Sienna stood back, admiring her handiwork. She’d splayed me out like a star, and when I wriggled in my bonds I discovered I could move a little, but there was no way I was getting out of this highly unusual predicament until she decided.
‘Relax, Casey. I promise this will be one of the most rewarding afternoons of your life.’
Sienna ran a long, crimson-taloned finger over my lips and down my throat, heading for my cleavage. Despite my anger at having been bound to her table, my mind was flashing to those drawings, the picture of the kneeling woman with her head pressed against Sienna’s pussy. I’d never imagined I’d ever take any pleasure from being placed in bondage, but something about being so vulnerable was stoking a soft, wet heat between my legs.
‘Let’s just get you out of these clothes ...’
Sienna’s fingers reached for the top button of my dress. Suddenly, I regretted wearing something that fastened down the front, something that could be undone with the minimum of fuss. Working rapidly, she opened it all the way, then pulled the two halves of the dress apart. It was so warm that day I hadn’t bothered with a bra, so Sienna was presented with the immediate sight of my small, bare breasts.
‘Beautiful,’ she purred, ‘and it looks like they’re enjoying being on display.’
I glanced downto see that my nipples were poking up rigidly. She licked her index finger, then ran it around and over each of the little nubs in turn. The sensation was so good that I moaned out loud. Sienna was right. Whatever I might tell her to the contrary, my body was enjoying the feeling of being restrained and at her mercy.
Seeing my reaction, she replaced her fingers with her mouth. Her full lips sucked at my nipples, her teeth gnawed them gently. No one had ever spent quite as long as she did playing with the super-sensitive buds, and soon she had me arching upwards in my bonds, desperate for her to take as much of my tit-flesh as she could into her mouth.
She seemed to take a delight in reducing me to a flushed, sweaty mess, panting and on the verge of coming just from having my nipples played with, then pulling away.
‘Not just yet, Casey. We have plenty of time.’ She pushed a damp tendril of blonde hair out of my eyes. ‘I trust your editor isn’t expecting you back in the office today?’
‘No, ma’am.’ I’d never called anyone “ma’am”before, but with Sienna it felt right. She deserved my deference.
‘Still, I don’t suppose she’d be very impressed if you turned up smelling of pussy and with your panties missing.’
‘But they’re not ...’ She never gave me a chance to finish the sentence. Producing a pair of scissors from a drawer by the sink, she deftly snipped at the sides of my panties before pulling the ruined garment out from underneath me. They were one of my favourite pairs – rose-pink, with cream lace ruffles. Somehow, I couldn’t see Karin letting me claim the cost of them on expenses.
‘That’s better.’ Sienna was looking right between my widely parted legs as she spoke. I’d had my pussy waxed only a couple of days earlier, and I knew she’d be able to see every last detail of my puffy lips, shining with my juices, and the dark, hidden hole they guarded. I’d never felt so exposed – or so excited.
‘Aren’t there any more questions you want to ask me?’ Sienna’s tone was gently mocking, reminding me of the reason I’d come here.
I could only think of one. ‘Wh–what happens now?’
‘Now, little Casey, you learn about the last refinement I’ve had made to this table. Which is that it became the home of my very extensive toy box.’
She reached under the table once more. From the same place as she’d withdrawn the rubber pillow, she pulled out a blue vibrator. Long and very slender, tapering along its length, its pearly surface seemed to shine in the light.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Sienna said, as she coated the toy liberally with lube. ‘This vibrator is so thin you’re barely going to feel it in your pussy. But that’s because it’s not designed for your pussy.’
My eyes widened. I’d never experimented with anal play, never felt I’d been with someone I trusted enough to engage in such an intimate act; now Sienna was about to initiate me whether ... I halted that particular train of thought. There was no question whether I wanted her to do it. As she ran the toy over the entrance to my arse, I gave a little shudder of excited anticipation. Her only response was to quirk her lips in amusement and push the greasy tip of the vibrator gently into my welcoming hole.
It felt so rude to be filled there but so incredibly good. Slowly, determinedly, Sienna used the vibrator to fuck my arse, stimulating me in places I’d never known could feel pleasure. All the time, she murmured things like, ‘Tell me how much you love it.’
And I did. I writhed and babbled, admitting this was the most depraved yet most delicious thing anyone had ever done to me, that I loved the feel of that buzzing toy deep in my rear passage, and that if only she would make me come I would be hers forever.
At that, she pressed her finger to my pussy. She’d adorned it with a small but powerful vibrator and she stroked it over and along my soaking wet lips. I arched up to meet her touch, desperate for her to put her little toy just where I needed it most, but every time it seemed she might actually touch my clit, she pulled away. Sienna wanted me to beg for my orgasm, so I did, shamelessly. I no longer cared that I was supposed to be a professional journalist, here to conduct an interview. I was nothing more than Sienna’s plaything, totally under her spell and happy to be so.
I don’t know how long she kept me there, strung out on the edge of ecstasy, waiting helplessly for the moment when she would push me over the edge, or what caused her to finally relent and grant me the release I craved. The moment the little plastic bobbles on the end of the finger vibe made contact with my clit, I lost all control. Thrashing as wildly as the cuffs would allow me, I humped my arse against the tabletop and came like I’d never stop. My cream gushed out of me on to the black-painted wood. By the time the last eddies of pleasure ebbed away, I was weak and breathless, but still ready for more.
When she unfastened the cuffs, encouraging me to climb down from the table on legs that seemed as though they could hardly bear my weight, I didn’t need to be told to thank her. I dropped to the floor at her feet.
Sienna unzipped her tight black leather skirt and stepped out of it. Beneath it, stockings and suspenders framed her pussy. She wore no knickers and I could smell how turned on she was.
Her finger beckoned me. Just like the girl in the drawing, I buried my head in Sienna’s musky crotch. ‘Lick me,’ she ordered.
My tongue snaked out, making contact with her bare flesh. She tasted salty and slightly sour, the texture o
f her juices making me think of tequila and lime. Eagerly, I lapped at her, guided by her quickening breathing and the soft pressure of her palm against the back of my head. The hood of her clit was pierced, and I tugged gently at the silver ring with curious fingers, wondering what kind of sensations I was transmitting to her most sensitive spot. Sienna seemed to like it, because she gasped and ground herself hard onto my nose and chin.
‘Don’t stop,’ she snarled. ‘Whatever you do, don’t fucking stop!’
I had no intention of stopping, not when she was so close to coming. My tongue flickered over her clit, tasting wet flesh and cool metal. Slipping two fingers up into her clinging hole, I heard Sienna give a strange little noise, somewhere between a groan and a bark. Her cunt clutched at my fingers and my mouth filled with her thin, tangy juices. She held my head still till her spasms subsided, then let go. I rocked back on my haunches, impressed with the strength of the orgasm I’d coaxed from her.
Briskly, Sienna pulled on her skirt and encouraged me to button up my dress. It seemed the interview – and everything that went with it – had come to an end.
‘I hope you’ve got enough material,’ she said, as I clicked off my recorder.
‘Oh, yes,’ I assured her, glad that no one but me would hear the recording I’d just made. ‘And it was all very useful.’
I was halfway back to the tube station before I realised I’d forgotten to let Sienna know I’d need to send a photographer round to take some shots to accompany the article. I was sure it would be easy to arrange for Tina, our staff snapper, to visit her. But I wouldn’t let Tina know the secrets of the table before she arrived. I was sure she’d have just as much fun finding them out as I had.
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