*Some cool facts first: my favorite photo is seeing him at the side of the bed holding the rope. What’s cooler is that he made the hemp rope (except the blue) that is in these photos, and dyed them purple for me.
I had no idea I was in trouble. I was thinking we were just engaging in awesome sexual play. And while rope doesn’t always come out, he loves rope so much that it’s not unusual.
My legs were tied up. Then my wrists were bound separately, thickly wound and pulled back by my head, held in points hidden by our bed frame.
More rope came out, and my legs were pushed down and apart, tied to the edges of the bed. That was my first clue. I wasn’t being allowed to move at all.
And then I saw a cord out of the corner of my eye.
“Oh god,” I moaned, getting a fuller picture of his intent.
He grabbed even more rope. I repeated my statement, adding, “that’s so overwhelming,” as he began making a harness between my legs to hold the wand in place.
I love and hate being overwhelmed. Sensations really flourish to too much, and I’ve never been so close to safe-wording as I do when I feel too much pleasure. Hate how weak I feel in that moment.
“Shut up,” he said when he finished. He turned it on, and I yelped as the buzzing vibrations stimulated my clit to full awareness. He kneeled beside my head. “I’ll give you something to make you quiet,” he said as he turned my head and shoved his cock into my mouth. Before my mouth was even full, he informed me: “that thing doesn’t come off until you cum.”
What the hell?! He knew I normally won’t orgasm until I’ve had it through vaginal penetration first.
I tried to breathe as he pushed himself into my mouth, slid out, pushed back and further a little each time. But how could I breathe when my body was tensing, becoming overly sensitive to a pinpointed area between my legs?
I choked a few times. I clenched and tightened, begging my body to silently orgasm, to have him turn the damn thing off. I groaned against his cock. I tried to squirm, to adjust my legs slightly to relieve some of the vibrations. No avail.
Forget trying to calm my mind and just go with it.
After a time he was kind enough to reach over and start pinching my nipples. Extra sensation may actually help my end goal.
Finally, finally I tensed enough and my poor, overwhelmed body took pity on me and climaxed.
How does he know, with a mouthful of himself and too tied up to give physical clues, when I orgasm is beyond me. But he did, thankfully, pulled out of my mouth, reached down and turned it off.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, laid beside me and stroked my hair back, soft caresses following soothed my overworked body.
“Yes, just glad it’s over,” I was impatient for him to remove the wand, knew better than to say something.
“Good. Again,” and with that he turned the damned thing back on.
“N—,” my mouth was filled again before I could complete my disagreement. My wrists jerked against the binding.
What the hell?! I did exactly what he said. Again!?
“At least you’ll cum quicker,” he reassured, slid in and out of my mouth, occasionally pushed back to where breathing became a challenge and held himself there.
Small comfort, I thought, even if the orgasm took no time at all, the wand made my body beyond-sensitive-to-be-comfortable.
And while he did it turn it off after the second time, he started it up again for a third. This time he didn’t keep me quiet, he positioned himself between my bound legs and moved the vibrations to my entrance.
It was up to me to keep myself quiet, to control my screams, as my body orgasmed. The whole time I strained to yank my arms down and kick out with my legs. My body was so rigid, so wanting some release from all the sensations.
When the wand was shut off, after I shuddered mindlessly, he felt my hands; his own were so warm.
He moved to untie me, concerned how cold they were.
“It’s only because I was fighting, the tie is good,” I reassured him. My arms already ached with such an effort to escape the pleasure being forced on me.
“We’re done with the ties,” he insisted, still untying. “You’re going to like the marks,” he claimed when he began freeing my legs and the wand.
And after amazing sex and cuddles, when I inspected the imprints left from the rope, he was right: I loved them. And him.