While we were separated, he told me to take a video of myself masturbating. I sent it to him. He hinted at parts of a scene he had planned, in which the video would be included.
When he came home for a brief visit, he took out the rope and positioned me kneeling in the middle of the bed. He tied my chest up to the ring above the bed then to rope tied between my legs. The pressure of the rope was tight enough against my sensitive lips, but if I leaned forward then it tugged from the chest lowering to a painful pinch between my lips.
Why would I ever lean or bend forward?
Naked, he positioned himself laying in front of me. He put a pillow behind his head, took his phone, and proceeded to watch the video in front of me. He stroked himself as he watched, his erection so close to my tied form that I could smell him.
“Oh, do you want this?” he asked looking up at me. I nodded. “Lean down and taste me then,” he invited, a smile about his lips at the predicament.
…It seems I will always choose a bit of pain to be able to do what I want.
I leaned forward, tested the tugging slowly, and wrapped my lips around just the tip. My tongue flicked at his desire. I wasn’t willing to go any further – the ropes were already digging into my skin.
“That won’t do,” he chided and pushed my mouth down his shaft. The pinching was immediate at my sex and I moaned at the pain. “Up,” he told me after a moment and helped me to lean up again. He continued to stroke himself, played the video again. “Again?” he questioned as I began to dip my head down to taste him. I nodded.
And continued this painful up and down, each time trying to push the limit of how long I would bend down and deal with the pain between my legs.
At one point he told me to watch the video, then when I turned away in embarrassment he hooked his fingers in my mouth and ordered me to keep my eyes on the scene. I didn’t want to see, I didn’t watch the video before I sent it to him so I certain didn’t want to later. I felt shy, silly. I didn’t want to see me masturbating, my hand working furiously between my thick thighs and my jiggling ass as it bounced on the bed in the video.
“Do you know how sexy you are? Do you know how much this video turned me on, how often I pleased myself to it?” Obviously he didn’t see the same things I saw.
His praise warmed and comforted me, warred with the humiliation and embarrassment of watching myself. He continued to go into detail about what he liked about the video, what it did to him, how beautiful I was in pleasuring myself.
I was beautiful and sexy to him.
By the time he lowered my body, took off the rope, and entered me, I was a wet pool of desire that needed just the barest of movement to orgasm.