by Alison Tyler
He finished the harness, tying it off in the back with a decisiveness that somehow deepened my blissed-out state. “Now I’m making the corset,” he whispered. “And with each coil going down your torso, you’ll drop a little deeper. When I’m done—when I tie off the ends—you will be unable to do anything except feel and enjoy. And then you’ll come for me.”
I clenched at those words, at the surety in his voice. He was confident I’d obey, that I’d come, and in that moment, so was I. No questioning how I could come without him touching my clit. I just knew I would.
He began to make the rope corset, winding down, tying off after each coil, and with each coil, telling me I was sinking deeper into hypnosis, deeper into a place with no thoughts, only sensations.
Between arousal, rope on my skin and his hypnotic persuasions, I was already dreamy and unable to think clearly. By the time he’d made three wraps, my mind felt full of honey, and empty of anything but that delicious slow sweetness and an aching arousal. I couldn’t have solved for X if my life depended on it.
For a second, I became aware of my slow thoughts, my nearly empty mind, and froze in panic. “Feel,” Michael said, simply. “Let go and feel. Don’t fight it.”
I took a deep breath and let the panic go and felt myself sinking into a soft, blissful place where nothing mattered but me and Michael and the rope on my sensitive skin.
He kissed me, a leisurely, sweet-hot kiss to match my syrupy thoughts, and I found myself relaxing into the kiss in a way I normally couldn’t, simply enjoying his lips, his tongue, his arms around me, and not thinking about what had happened before, might happen next, was going on in the lab or in some rival lab in Japan.
I kissed, and for that moment, that was all I did.
My body blossomed. I’d been wet and aroused before, but now I was all floaty arousal, and it was all centered in my lips and tongue. The arousal filled me to the point where I trembled on the verge of orgasm before Michael broke the kiss and went back to wrapping me in rope.
He was almost done. Only a few more wraps around my hips. How many I couldn’t say, because counting was too much work. He passed the two ends of the rope between my legs, first one, then the other tugging against my cunt lips, pulling them open as Michael move the ends of the rope into the back of the corset.
I only know that was what he was doing because he’d done the rope corset thing before and I’d made mental notes the whole time. But while it was going on this time, I wasn’t thinking of anything except how the ropes embraced and caressed me, how hot my cunt was, how swollen my clit, and even those weren’t exactly thoughts in the usual sense. No logic, no analysis, certainly no questions or distractions. Barely even words, just glorious sensations overwhelming my body and my honey-filled brain. I was trembling and moaning without language, thrusting my hips back at Michael, thrusting them forward at the air in search of an invisible lover.
But I didn’t beg for mercy, didn’t ask for a direct touch on my throbbing clit, because it didn’t occur to me that there was more beyond this everlasting moment of sweet need. I was in the moment, and the moment was in Michael’s hands, in Michael’s control. He would take care of me. I wasn’t thinking enough to articulate that.
I simply knew. I trusted. I waited.
When he finished weaving the rope ends into the back of the corset, he pulled me close against his body, and said, “Come, Diana.”
I came.
As simple as that, and as complicated. He said come and I spiraled down into dark pleasure and then rocketed out of the darkness screaming and shaking, seeing fire behind my eyes and feeling miraculous fire coursing through my whole body.
The fire burned away some of my trance, cleared some of the syrup in my brain, and when I calmed a little, I managed to ask a couple of questions, even if I sounded about as insightful and clever as a fluffy Persian kitten granted a human voice. “Wow. How did you learn to do that? And what can I do for you?”
“Drop deeper,” he whispered, leading me to the bed. “No questions yet. Just pleasure.”
It was the next morning before I asked another question, and that was, “Want to go out for breakfast? You’ll need to untie me first.”
Michael decided on breakfast in bed.
I, ROBOT
Heidi Champa
So, this is why you’re late for dinner, again.”
He looked up at me with guilt in his eyes. His giant, magnifying-goggle-covered eyes. The circuit board in front of him was half together and the soldering iron in his hands was still smoking. His radio was playing some crazy hip-hop and the clock on the wall was all the evidence I needed that he had blown me off for the robots yet again. I had gotten dressed up in my favorite outfit, right down to the new stilettos I’d bought especially for the night. Well, maybe not exactly for the dinner, but they worked nonetheless. I looked hot and he was still in his ratty work clothes right down to the tattered lab coat he wore all the time. I glared at him, but his sheepish grin made it difficult to stay as mad as I would have liked.
“I can explain.”
“Save your breath, Casey. I’m not in the mood to hear the latest in a long line of bullshit. I guess I’ll just have to accept that your work will always come first.”
“That’s not true, Dana, and you know it.”
“Really? Because here we are in your lab when we’re supposed to be at a fancy dinner. Oh and why are we going to that fancy dinner? Because you ditched me last week for your stupid project and you promised to make it up to me. Tonight!”
He stood and held his hands up in surrender. When he came toward me, I took a step back, ready to bolt out the door and head home to the comfort of my couch. The shoes, while hot, were starting to make my feet hurt.
“I know I fucked up. But I swear I have a very good reason. If you’ll give me a chance, I can explain.”
“Fine. Go ahead and explain. I can’t wait to hear this.”
He led me over to a table where two robot arms were attached to a huge contraption made of metal and plastic and god knows what else. I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at, but Casey’s mechanical brain always impressed me.
“I thought you were going to explain, Casey.”
“I thought it might be easier to just show you.”
He started typing on a beat-up laptop and right before my eyes, the two robot arms sprang to life, lifting up and moving around in a stiff mimic of human motion.
“Holy shit, that’s so cool.”
“I know. We just got them to really work tonight. And I was so pumped, I didn’t want to stop. Do you understand?”
I watched the arms move toward me and retreat, the long, slim, metal-jointed fingers drumming on an invisible keyboard. I turned and looked at Casey and let him wrap his arms around me.
“I guess. I’m still pissed though. Even though you’re freaking brilliant and awesome.”
“That’s a start. I suppose I’ll just have to make things up to you twice tonight.”
His eyebrow rose in a sweetly familiar way, and I melted a bit in his strong arms.
“What did you have in mind, Casey?”
He spun me around so I was facing the table again. The robot arms started to move until one of them was right in front of me.
“Don’t be so shy, Dana. Say hello.”
It felt ridiculous, but I reached out and shook hands with the robot. Then it was on to the double high five. I couldn’t stop laughing as the robot mirrored my movements, but the giggles died when the mechanical arms grabbed me tight around the wrists.
“What the fuck, Casey? Make it let me go.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No, but—”
The fake hands squeezed me a bit tighter and started pulling away, forcing me to lean over the table. They stopped just as my face was inches away from the wood surface, my feet struggling to stay on the ground.
“This isn’t funny, Casey. Do whatever you have to do and make it stop.”
“I have a better idea.”
Instead of releasing me, Casey ran a hand over my ass, inching up the fabric of my pencil skirt. I felt the cool air of the lab flowing over my skin as he exposed me, my thong the only thing between us. His calloused fingers teased my skin, raising goose bumps. A few playful slaps followed, and I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Making it up to you, like I said.”
“This is your idea of making it up to me?”
“Yup.”
A few seconds passed before I felt his hands on my hips and my thong start to slide down my legs and off my feet. With a hand around each ankle, he urged my legs wide. I struggled against the hard metal bonds around my wrists, even though I knew it was pointless. All I could do was stare at the wall, which was littered with coiled wires, pliers and various things that I couldn’t name. My eyes fell closed when his fingers started dancing up the backs of my legs, half tickling and half caressing.
I moved, trying to get away from his touch, but it was no use. I was trapped, which was obviously exactly what he wanted.
“Casey…”
“Just relax, babe. I promise, by the time I’m done, you’ll forget all about me being late again.”
I opened my mouth to protest some more, but the words died in my throat when his tongue started tracing meandering lines across the back of my thigh. His fingers dug into my flesh, his grip nearly as strong as the robot’s. His mouth eased closer and closer to my already damp pussy, but stayed far enough away to leave me wanting.
“Casey, quit messing around.”
“My, my. So impatient, Dana.”
“What exactly did you expect?”
“Exactly this. Don’t worry, I won’t make you wait too much longer, but come on, I have to have a little fun.”
“What about my fun?”
“Just getting to that.”
A single finger ran from the pucker of my ass down the split of my pussy lips, sliding over my wetness until he came to rest on my clit. I gasped against the wood table, my arms straining against the robot’s literal iron grip. Casey started to trace small circles, first one way and then the other until I could barely stand it. Suddenly his finger was gone from my clit and slipped inside me with no resistance at all. Slowly, so damn slowly, he moved in and out of me, finger-fucking my pussy until I was nearly panting.
“God, you’re so hot when you’re excited, Dana.”
I didn’t know if he wanted an answer, but I was too focused on the feelings to give one. All I could do was moan as his invading digits moved within me, the walls of my pussy grasping him tight. I pushed back against him, as much as my robot restraints would allow, urging him to move faster. He didn’t oblige, but he did add another finger to my cunt, stretching me open a little farther.
“Casey, please.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Say please again.”
I groaned and bit my lip, my thighs beginning to tremble as he entered me again and again.
“Please…you’re driving me crazy.”
“And here I thought I only did that when I stood you up for dinner.”
“I want you inside me, Casey. I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”
“Well, let’s see how much longer, shall we?”
The whimper came out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I was sure it was exactly what Casey wanted to hear. His fingers were gone from my cunt but were soon replaced by the swirling power of his tongue. Casey gripped my thighs as he licked and sucked my clit, making me buck back against him. My wrists were starting to hurt from straining against the robot’s grip, but the little bites of pain only made the whole thing more exciting. I looked up at the towering apparatus that held me so tight and cried out as Casey slapped his palm against my ass. My nipples were straining against the lace bra I’d chosen with this type of thing in mind. Well, maybe not this type of thing exactly. Just when I thought I was going to explode, everything stopped. I heard Casey’s shuffling feet behind me, the sound getting quieter. My panic made me yell out, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good.
“Hey, where the hell are you going? You can’t leave me like this.”
When he returned, he slapped my ass again, laughing at me.
“Patience my dear.”
“I’m out of patience.”
“Just a little bit more.”
I pulled at the robot hands, wishing I could tear the whole thing down, just so I could get my hands on Casey. But I knew it was futile. When his hands were back on me, I settled down a bit, but I was desperate by this point. The head of his cock came to rest at my wet opening, and I immediately pushed back against him. He stayed far enough away that I could only feel the slightest brush of him.
“Fuck me, Casey. Fuck me now.”
He leaned over me and whispered right in my ear.
“If you insist.”
The last word was punctuated by the thrust of his hips and he was buried in me to the hilt. He fucked me slow and hard, his whole body pressed against mine. His voice was once again in my ear, throwing gasoline on my fire.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this moment. I knew you’d show up when I was late. This was the first thing I wanted my bionic hands to do.”
“Wouldn’t rope have been cheaper?”
“But not nearly as fun.”
My feet started to slip as he fucked me faster; the gorgeous heels had little effect on the concrete floor. My wrists were aching to be released, almost as much as I was. Casey reached underneath me and played with my clit, nuzzling his lips against the back of my neck. I couldn’t hold back any longer, my body too tense for too long. I was coming harder than I had in forever, my whole body racked with the pleasure Casey had denied me for long torturous minutes. He soon followed, groaning loudly in my ear as he came, his thrusts stuttering to a halt.
Everything was quiet in the lab, except for the ticking of the large clock on the wall. Casey pulled away from me, and I heard his fingers racing over the keys of his laptop. With a high-pitched whine, the robot hands moved again, slowly opening and letting me free. I stood up on wobbly feet letting my skirt fall down my hips. My thong was a few feet away, crumbled in a little ball. I picked it up and slipped it on, catching my reflection in a cracked mirror on the wall. My lipstick was smudged and my mascara had run. My hair was disheveled and not in a cute way. I could only laugh as Casey came up behind me and wrapped me in his arms.
“How are your wrists?”
“A little sore. But nothing I can’t handle.”
“So, tell me, Dana. Am I forgiven?”
I turned and kissed him as he eased his lab coat off his shoulders. I watched as he turned off the light and put his robot arms to bed for the night. I ran my hand down one long metal bar that made up its forearm.
“Do you mind if we stop at home before dinner, Casey?” I asked.
“Oh, come on, I think you look great, but if you insist,” he said with a grin.
I looked down at my disheveled outfit and smiled.
“Not exactly the look I was going for when I left the house tonight.”
He slipped his hand in mine as we walked toward the door.
“So, you never answered me, Dana. Am I forgiven?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
“That depends,” I said.
“Depends on what?”
“On how long you make me wait to come back to the lab.”
MAGIC BOOTS
Amy Dillon
The boots are the center of Noah’s fantasy—and therefore, mine.
But I think maybe they worked a little magic on me, too. I’m not quite the foot freak he is…but after a month with my boots, I’m getting there. And once I see how Noah reacts to my magic boots? I think I might be a little bit of a convert.
Noah doesn’t know I’ve got these particular boots. Not yet. That’s what makes them hot.
But I know. I
know everything about them. I know how they feel on my feet, and I know how they feel in my face. I know how their subtle contours feel against my tongue, how the smell intoxicates me. And I’m not even a foot freak, really. I just like to turn my husband on. And from the way I’ve so easily trained myself to get dizzy just from thinking about these boots, I’m pretty sure Noah’s going to like them. He and I tend to have tastes in common. And if there’s one thing I’m confident we’ll agree on, it’s that I look hot in these boots.
The buttery leather molds to my calves, displaying just the right amount of their shape along with the rigid perfection that spells a well-constructed boot. The soft, supple feel of the material seems to radiate sex, both in touch and in scent, when you get up close and personal with them. I’ve kissed them as often as Noah is going to. Or at least I gave them a very good introduction to how it feels to be kissed by a horny human tongue. I think they like it.
I first saw them a month ago. Noah coveted them in the store. On one of our rare trips into the City, we had stopped at this specialty boot store and Noah just about lost it over these. I teased him about them at the time. I played with him later a little, joking about them. Then I dropped it. They were too expensive, we agreed. Far too frivolous. Not at all practical. I could easily be Noah’s “Mistress,” even without a pair of really hot boots, right? And I am, I guess, sort of part-time, when it suits my fancy and his, which is not as often as I’d like.
But that’s going to change, because I’ve been practicing. I went back and bought the boots, in secret. I’ve been wearing them. I’ve been wearing them a lot. And believe me, I’ve had a hell of a time hiding them from him. I almost can’t believe he hasn’t smelled them. I feel like I can smell them all the way down the block. And it makes me wet.
But I want to surprise him—and I’m not really ready to surprise Noah with his fantasy boots until I’m ready to sell them. And to sell them, I need to know them. So I’ve worn them for the last month…whenever I could. At first, I told myself I needed to “break them in,” but realistically that didn’t seem necessary, since the soft, supple leather molded to my feet like they were made for them. The whisper of a blister I got on my left big toe was the only hint that they needed to be “broken.” Maybe it was me that needed to be broken, if you know what I mean.