Bound to Please

by Lilli Feisty

  She found a video and clicked the Play icon.

  Two nude men washing a red, eighties-model Mustang came to life on the computer screen. Her pulse hammered as she watched a curvy woman with a sleek ponytail and a long leather flogger circle the men. Meg’s nipples started to tingle when the woman smacked one of the men’s naked asses. The woman on the screen did it again, and Meg’s cunt throbbed as she watched a red welt appear on the man’s golden flesh.

  Meg thought of the paddle she’d bought but hadn’t had the balls to show Emmett, and she was envious of the woman on the screen. And when the men started pleasuring each other Meg closed the window on the browser with a fast click. Her skin was burning and her pussy was aching. She was disgusted at herself. She had just discovered that her husband had a fetish for male porn, and she was more turned on than she was angry.

  What was wrong with her?

  She pushed the chair back and left the office. As she walked up the stairs, she tried to ignore the way her thighs rubbed together and tingled the sensitive flesh between her legs.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about the way that woman had smacked the young man’s ass. The image was burned into her brain. And she was turned on and jealous and hurt.

  But at least she had figured out why her sex life had gone to shit. Her husband was gay.

  On Saturday Ruby was working on catering invoices when a package arrived via courier. It was wrapped in brown paper and had no return address. Mark. She instinctively knew it was from him.

  She hadn’t spoken with him the day before, although he’d sent her a text message late last night that said: Sorry. Worked late. See you tomorrow?

  She hadn’t sent a message back.

  Now she had butterflies as she walked through her apartment, took the package into the kitchen and placed it on the table, on top of the papers she’d strewn about as she’d worked.

  Should she open it now?

  Just then her phone buzzed and she picked it up. Open it up, the display said.

  Open it up. And, as usual, she did.

  The box was long and narrow, the type of package roses were shipped in. But when she lifted the lid off this box, she saw no roses inside. Her breath hitched. The dry scent of leather hit her, and she had to smile.

  She began lifting items and placing them on her kitchen table: black leather, fur-lined handcuffs. A second set, but bigger: ankle cuffs. Some black nylon straps. And a vibrator. This she lifted and held in her palms. It was different from her little pink bullet; this was longer, wider, and the tip was angled. It was made out of a jellylike material that was slightly squishy. She turned it over in her hands. Through the transparent material she could see the motor, but there didn’t appear to be any way to turn it on.

  The screen on her phone showed no new text messages. He knew she’d received the items, obviously, so now what was she supposed to do? She stood there, waiting, but instructions never arrived. Finally she returned the cuffs and other things to the box. What was he up to?

  Back on the sofa, she opened her laptop and tried to focus on invoices. But now her entire body pulsed with anticipation, excitement. Her breasts felt heavy and her pussy was tingling. And he’d know this, of course he would. It would be part of what he wanted, to get her going, get her ready, aching.

  Finally at seven-thirty her cell phone rang.

  “I hope you didn’t start without me,” he said immediately.

  She’d just taken a bath and was standing in her bedroom, wrapped in a towel. The air was chilly against her wet skin, but a flash of heat went through her at the sound of his voice. “How could I?” she asked. “The vibrator you sent must be faulty. It doesn’t have an On button.” She unwrapped the turban-style towel on her head and shook out her wet hair. “How was your session today?”

  “Great, but exhausting. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She tried not to be disappointed that he didn’t want to share his day with her. Don’t go there. This is just sex, remember? After her last phone conversation with James, she’d decided to allow herself this tryst with Mark. To have casual sex, to get it out of her system. Only then, she’d concluded, could she go on with her life, just as things had been.

  “All I want to think about is you,” Mark said.

  His words made her heart stop, just for a second. This was bad, so very bad; every time he said stuff like that she knew it would be harder to get back to the normal life she craved.

  But… there was that flutter in her belly again, telling her she was too weak to say no to him. The excitement was too good, too thrilling, and now anticipation coursed through her, erotically charging her.

  “I’m in L.A. or I’d come see you, baby.”

  She paused. “L.A.?” He’d never even mentioned he was leaving.

  “Some stupid private party—sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, but for the first time she wondered what his band thought of him agreeing on their behalf to play the Spring Fling.

  “We’ll fly back first thing in the morning.”

  “You sound tired,” she said.

  “I’m beat. You know what’s keeping me going?”

  “No,” she said, lifting a leg and resting her foot on the bed. She soaked up the last of the water off her calf with her towel.

  “What’s keeping me going is knowing that I’ll be seeing you when I get back, knowing what I’m going to do to you. Knowing how you’re going to submit for me.”

  Frozen, she listened to his words.

  And then he said, “I can take you there right now, if you’ll let me.”

  A shiver raced up her spine. “What do you mean?”

  “Ruby, baby. You know exactly what I mean.”

  “Mark…”

  “Baby, I can already hear the surrender in your voice.”

  “I don’t know, Mark.”

  “Don’t fight it, sweetheart.”

  Hadn’t she been waiting all day for this? “Okay,” she said, even as her gut twisted with nerves.

  “Good girl.”

  His simple approval cemented the deal, no turning back now. And besides, he was three hundred miles away; what did she have to lose?

  Chapter

  Fourteen

  Where are you?” he asked.

  “My bedroom.” She hadn’t blown her hair dry; it would be a frizzy mess tomorrow. She tucked a damp strand behind her ear. “I just got out of the bath.”

  “Fuck, are you already naked for me?”

  “It wasn’t for you, but yes. I’m naked.”

  “Baby, I can picture you so well. I can see you standing in your room, with that frilly little lamp of yours turned low. I can see your pale skin glowing like it did on the beach. Have I told you how much I love your body, Ruby?”

  His words were like a hot whisper over her skin, melting her. “No.”

  “I do. Your breasts fit in my hands perfectly, your legs wrap around me so tight.”

  Her legs turned liquid and weak, but she didn’t sit down. He hadn’t given her permission for that yet.

  “But you know what I noticed first about you?”

  “No.”

  “Your hair. I really love your hair.”

  She thought he wouldn’t think that if he saw it now, damp and a wild mess. “Really?”

  “Yes. Now, where are the things I sent you?”

  “In the kitchen, still in their box.”

  “Good. Now listen, Ruby. This is what I want you to do. I want you to go into the kitchen.”

  The air was chilly against her damp skin as she walked down the hall, teasing her nipples, making goose bumps sprinkle her arms.

  “Are you there now?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Standing naked in your kitchen?”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s freezing.”

  He paused; she could hear him breathing, and then he said, “Good girl. Now I want you to take out each t
hing in that box, and, as you do, I want you to tell me what you’re holding in your hands.”

  She approached the box, her pulse loud in her ears as she opened it. “I have a leather cuff… another cuff.” She sounded breathless, like someone else. “Two more cuffs. And the vibrator.”

  “Ah, yes. The vibrator. But that’s not just any vibrator, doll. It’s a very special toy, one of the better results of modern communication technology.”

  She held the pink phallic-shaped implement in her hand, comprehension finally beginning to dawn on her. “No way.”

  “Yes, way—and by the way, I didn’t give you permission to talk. Now, are you ready to behave?”

  She sighed at the thrill that shot through her.

  “Okay, then. Now, pull out a chair and sit down. Are you sitting?”

  “Yes.” The vinyl seat was sticky on her bare skin, but she kept that to herself. There would be time for disobedience later.

  “Okay, baby. Now spread your legs for me. I need you to straddle that chair, I want your feet next to the legs, got it?”

  “Yes,” she said, not quite believing she was in her kitchen, naked, having phone sex with Mark St. Crow.

  “Good girl. Now, tell me how you’re feeling.”

  “Ridiculous. Horny.”

  “Honest enough.” He laughed. “Isn’t that what’s so great about this, though? About you and me? Instant honesty through our dual perversions?”

  “Is that what this is? Because I honestly can’t believe what I’ve let you do to me… what I’ve told you.”

  “But you love it, don’t you, baby?”

  She hesitated, then shrugged. “Yes. But I’m afraid of what will happen when this is over. When you go. Will I ever be able to go back to normal?”

  “Why would you want to?”

  She pictured James Cleaver, her “perfect” man, representing everything she’d wanted her entire life. Stability, reliability, dependability. She’d thought she’d dodged a bullet with Ash, but now she was wondering if she’d just been scared of something. Scared of what she felt now, with Mark.

  “I don’t know anymore,” she whispered. “You’ve got me all fucked up.”

  “Well, forget about it for now. Now, you’re mine, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to give yourself to me, to trust me. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” And she did as he said; she pushed all thoughts out of her head until it was only her and his voice, telling her what to do. Setting her free.

  “Are you open for me now?”

  “Yes.” Wasn’t she always?

  “If I was there, I’d tie you to that chair. I’d bind your ankles wide apart, I’d have you spread open for me. Bound for me.”

  She hitched a breath, her heart hammered in her chest.

  “I’d tie your wrists to the arms of the chair and you’d be at my mercy. I could do anything to you then, couldn’t I, baby? I could take your breasts in my hands, pinch your nipples until you cried out. Couldn’t I, Ruby?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, her breasts now heavy, throbbing.

  “I could step between your legs, let you suck my cock.”

  She closed her eyes and licked her lips, remembering exactly what he tasted like, how his penis had beat with his pulse, in her mouth, on her tongue. She remembered how powerful that feeling had been, and her own sex responded by getting wetter; the air was cool, hitting her between the legs, and she squirmed in her seat.

  “Oh, God… I… I wish you were here,” she said.

  His voice was soft. “So do I, baby. But for now you’ll just have to obey me and let me imagine you there, spread wide and open for me. Tell me again who you belong to tonight?”

  “You, Mark. I belong to you.”

  “Good girl. Now, I need you to take the larger cuffs and bind your ankles to the legs of that chair.”

  Her fingers trembled as she lifted a large leather band and unbuckled the strap. About three inches wide, made of black leather, each restraint was lined in soft, minklike fur. They smelled like leather, like Mark. Bending, she wrapped the cuff around her right ankle and locked the buckle. Then the other ankle and she was done. Bound.

  “Are you finished, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “How does it feel?”

  “Soft. Good,” she said, satisfaction settling inside her.

  “Good. Now I want you to take a picture with your cell phone and send it to me.”

  “What?” She’d promised herself she’d never pose nude again.

  “Are you questioning me?”

  But this self-bondage was nothing like what she’d done with Ash. Ash had been all about the art and beauty and composition. It had never been about her at all, had it?

  With Mark, no matter how submissive a position she found herself in, she realized, in the end, it was about her pleasure, about her.

  “Come on now, baby. I wouldn’t put it past you to be faking the whole thing, being the unruly little spitfire you are. I need proof before we go any further.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  “Good girl.”

  Holding her cell phone in front of her, she angled it as best she could to get her lower body in the frame. She pushed the button and waited for the click to tell her the picture had been recorded.

  She studied the image. Was that really her? Legs open wide, bound to a chair with oversized black leather restraints, like some sort of prisoner?

  Yeah, it was.

  “Did you send it to me?”

  She did.

  A few seconds later she heard him inhale. “Oh, fuck, baby. You’re so gorgeous. You deserve your reward now. Get the vibrator.”

  She picked it up off the table, held it in her palms.

  “Now tell me. Are you wet?”

  “I am.”

  “That’s good.” Suddenly the vibrator started humming in her hands. “Feel that? I just love modern technology.”

  “Oh God, I think I do, too.”

  “Touch yourself now, baby. Touch your clit.”

  With her gaze on her sex, she pressed the humming vibrator to the throbbing nub at the top of her pussy. She jerked, gasped.

  “That’s it, touch yourself now, baby. Touch your clit, rub that vibrator around your beautiful pussy.”

  Sagging into the chair, her ankles pushed against their soft restraints, she did as he commanded. She was so slick, so turned on, the jellylike vibrator slid easily over her pussy.

  He upped the power and she cried out. “Oh… fuck…” Knowing he held the power in his hands, despite the distance, turned her on even more, made her buck against the back of the chair as she held the buzzing instrument between her thighs.

  “That’s right, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Good… ah!” she gasped, nearly dropping the phone. “Oh, God… Mark.”

  The vibrator stopped buzzing, going still in her hands. She sat there panting, dazed. “What… ?”

  “You didn’t think I’d just let you get off, did you? What fun would that be?”

  “Mark!”

  “This hurts me as much as it hurts you.”

  She had to bite her lip hard to keep her response inside. She was so close to coming, so fucking close. Her fingers curled, itching to help relieve herself.

  “Don’t you even think about touching yourself, doll.”

  “I’m going to get you back for this.”

  “Promises, promises. Now, are you going to behave?”

  “Yes,” she ground out.

  The vibrator started humming again, this time softly. “Let’s try this again. But first, tell me about your nipples.”

  “My nipples?”

  “Yes, those things on your breasts.”

  “Funny.”

  “Are you talking back?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. So why don’t you pinch one of your nipples for me. Hard, like I would do it if I was there. I want to hear yo
u cry out for me.”

  She took her hard nipple between her fingers and pinched. Inhaled sharply. The pain shot straight to her sex, and the throbbing between her legs intensified.

  “Okay, that was good. Now, put the vibrator into your pussy.”

  Finally. She kicked at her restraints as she slid the vibrating toy into her vagina, closed her eyes as it filled her. Not as good as Mark’s cock, but her pussy was hungry, needy, and her thighs trembled as she fucked herself. Still, she wished it was him there, his own body driving her pleasure.

  “I can hear you breathing hard; you like this, don’t you? You like being mine, under my control.”

  “Yes,” she said, angling the vibrator deeper. “Oh, yes.”

  “Now, I want you to keep the vibrator inside you, but keep your hands off it. I want total control of your pleasure.”

  Her entire body was quivering, needing release, but she obeyed. She placed the thrumming instrument as deep as she could and let go. It hummed softly inside her, making her moan.

  He turned up the power, and she had to grasp the arms of the chair to keep from touching her clit. So close…

  “You’re doing so well, baby. I wish I could reward you myself. I wish I could stand between your legs and show you how hard your obedience makes me. I’d take my cock in my hands, I’d let you watch as I stroked myself. For you.”

  Was he doing that now? Masturbating? Was he lying on a generic hotel bedspread, his long, sure fingers wrapped around his erection? Pumping himself, from his soft pubic hair to the head of his cock and back again?

  The image upped her desire for him, but she dared not ask what he was doing; the last thing she wanted was him to stop the lovely toy vibrating in her pussy. Because her breaths were coming quick now; her body was on fire. So close to climax… but oh, how she needed something on her clit.

  Her fingers would do nicely.

  She writhed in her seat, gripping the chair’s arms.

  The vibrator humming inside her, he went on: “If I was there with you, I’d take your hair in my hand, wrap it around my palm and tug, just enough to make you squirm. Would you like that?”