Not fair

This, she decided, was not fair.

His text had been clear, setting out exactly what was expected of her and she had obeyed without question and with the longing in her heart that came from her submission. She’d showered and washed her hair, oiling her soft, hairless skin and blow drying her long brown hair. Subtle make-up had been applied, just enough to accentuate her deep brown eyes and make thin lips seem a little more full.

The suit was her favourite: red spandex, soft and shiny, clinging to her slim figure like a second skin. It would have covered her completely had she not left the hood to hang down as she had been told. She pulled on the matching boots, ankle high patent with a spiked heel tall enough to force her to stand on tiptoe and give her legs and bottom a more toned shape.

For a few minutes she stood before the mirrored doors of her wardrobes, enjoying admiring herself in a narcissistic reflection. She let her hands slide up and down the soft material, listening to the sound and revelling in its sensual touch. Her eyes cast down to the dark zip that ran between her legs, pulling the material in between her buttocks and teasing her as she moved. For a moment she considered unfastening it and sliding her finger inside, only to stop herself as she knew he wouldn’t want the suit to be spoilt by dampness.

Anyway there wasn’t time. He would be at her door in a few minutes and she did not want to keep him waiting. A last check to make sure the bedroom was clean before she went to the front door of the apartment and stood facing the corner of the hallway with her arms folded behind her back the way he expected.

He tied her. She lay on the floor of the smaller bedroom she used as an office and he tied her. He wrapped a black rope around her ankles and thighs, bending her knees until her heels almost touched her bottom. More rope tied her wrists together firmly, held back against her legs so that she found it hard to move.

And then the gag. The ball filled her mouth, stretching her jaw open and pressing her tongue down. It reduced her to making grunts and groans, indecipherable sounds. Even if she had wanted to protest she couldn’t.

This was fair. This was what she wanted. She wanted to be turned into a helpless object for him. She wanted to be bound and gagged for him. She wanted his eyes to watch over her, soaking up every move she managed to make and with a thin smile on his lips as he revelled in the power he had over her.

What was not fair was where he had placed her.

By the side of her desk was a long, low cabinet, barely wide enough for her to lie on. Yet that was where she was, lying on the cabinet in ropes and catsuit and with him watching her from the leather office chair as she tried to get free.

She tried to find a weakness in his ropes. She stretched and twisted her body from side to side, searching for the knot that would set her free. Any other day she would have thrown herself at the challenge, fighting for her freedom with every muscle in her body. But not here. Not on this narrow ledge where a wrong move could send her falling to the floor. Her movements were more considered, more deliberate.

Carefully she pulled herself up, arching her back as she tried to loosen the bonds around her feet. She felt herself move to the left and looked down at the carpet as she hung over the edge. Fear flooded into her and she shuffled to the right, knocking into the wall.

It didn’t stop her. She tried again, pulling at the rope, hunting for the elusive weak spot. Her fingers probed between her ankles, stretching and twisting.

The minutes ticked by, each second marked by the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. The struggling came in fits and starts, long periods of arching her back and rolling on her side, followed by restful moments as she recovered her composure and her bravery. It was those moments where she stole a glance at him, still sat in the chair with that smile on his face.

Curse him.

She wondered if he planned on setting her free, or if he was determined to just leave her there on the cabinet until she found her own way out. Frustration had built up inside her, some of it from the fear of falling, some from having to control her movements when normally she was so free.

And then he rose slowly from the chair. He stood for a moment, enjoying the shift in perspective. With his eyes fixed firmly on her he stepped up to her side and placed one hand on her thigh, sending an electric charge through her. Gently he tipped her onto her back, pushing her against the wall and allowing his other hand to settle on her breast. Another jolt of pleasure.

“Enough?”

She nodded.

Any hope of freedom evaporated as he lifted her from the cabinet, one arm supporting her arms, the other holding her feet. He carried her out of the office and as they passed through the door she feared she was going to hit the frame. Only he held her tightly and kept her safe.

Like some toy doll she was deposited on the bed and he settled down beside her on the mattress. She shivered as his hand brushed gently along her thigh and waist, passing over her breasts with the lightest of touches. The hood came over her head and the world faded into a blurry red pastiche. Frustration gave way to the anticipation of a reward to come.

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About Razz

I'm a creative dominant type with a love of BDSM and fetishism. This blog is an outlet, so don't take anything you see or read too seriously.

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