Authors: Kimberley Raines
Tags: #submission and domination, #femdom story
He began to
move, and as he did so she anticipated his needs, and rose
gracefully to her feet, holding a towel between her hands. He
couldn't quite work out where it had come from, but it didn't
matter. Her head was still bowed submissively, waiting.
He stepped
from the bath like Adonis, like Titus, and held his arms out in the
diminishing sound of sloshing water. Tanya began to dry him as he
waited. She lovingly dwelled on every part of his body, rubbing
with small circular movements, attaining an almost clinical desire
to dry every single inch of his body. His sexual organs were
accorded the same precise attention, no more, no less, which
created an exquisite desire to grab her hand, to make her stop what
she was doing and feel how wonderfully erect he was, feel the heat
of his manhood as it rose before him. The way she ignored this part
of him, gave it less than the expected attention was frustrating,
but strangely exciting, as if she was saving the best till
last.
When he was
dry to her satisfaction, she walked backward through the door, her
clasped hands and bowed head indicating how much it would please
her if he followed. Not a word was spoken.
He realised
that the distant music comprised female voices, and guessed
accurately that they were revelling in praise of the male, and all
falsely nurtured visions of equality of the sexes disappeared up
his backside. Men were superior, women were there to do their
bidding, and it was quite all right to punish them if they failed
in their duties.
She led him
not to the bedroom sleek with black satin, but to the one brightly
decorated in garish colours, and towards a low trestle table,
suitably styled for the male body, upon which he was encouraged
with every grace imaginable, to stretch himself. Deftly she
positioned him on his stomach, so that his face rested comfortably
in a hole provided for that purpose. His legs were slightly parted
allowing his penis to hang gently through another hole, his hands
brought to rest palm-up beside him. Then she began to massage him.
Within moments his body was in a state of relaxation he had never
before experienced.
Tanya was
evidently an expert at the art of sexual massage, and again he
savoured her brand of temptation, as she only nearly touched where
he desperately wanted her to touch. Warm oils were poured onto his
body and gently rubbed all over; his back, his legs, into the crack
of his bottom without the least hesitation or lingering sexual
intimations. That was just another part of his body.
Then she began
to massage. Kevin was lulled into a state bordering sleep by the
wine, the soft motions of her hands, and the exotic surroundings.
There was a point at which he couldn't have sworn he had not gone
to sleep, but when his libido began to seriously awaken it was not
because Tanya was stroking his penis, it was because she was not,
and yet his whole body was aflame with desire. Alert once more, he
began to move in soft co-ordination with her hands, and the
pressure of her massage accommodated the change. Her hands slid to
his buttocks and began kneading the flesh with circular movements.
He began to will her fingers to move closer to his balls. He lifted
himself slightly in the hope that her hands would slide there, but
she simply moved with him, maintaining the pressure, the exquisite
torture of withholding her touch.
There were
times when Kevin was busting with need, and times when the pressure
deflated, but never did the erotic pressure of that massage
disperse. Subtly and with infinitesimal slowness her hands were
working towards the core of his body, and Kevin's awareness
followed her hands. There were times when he wanted to turn over
and give her one, but deep inside he was waiting for the finale,
desperate to know what it might be.
Then she began
to massage the muscle that rimmed his anus. The action itself was
almost enough to bring him to complete rampant erection - almost,
but not quite. The very fact that he could have turned over and
thrust himself into the bird of paradise massaging him was the
whole reason he did not do so. Her hands promised delights he had
never experienced, and he just didn't want it to stop.
Now her
caressing finger was sliding just a fraction inside him. He groaned
with frustration and delight, the two sensations intermingled
inextricably, and it seemed that she dwelled at that point until he
could have screamed.
Then her
finger began to penetrate a little more at each circular movement,
and he felt his penis had never been so fit to burst. It hung
between his legs, throbbing and abandoned, while she played with
his anus. He parted his legs slightly to accommodate, and at once
her finger slipped right in. He jerked, gasped, and his hands
clenched.
He was staring
at the carpet, knowing he only had to lift his head to see her, but
found he didn't want to. He knew what she was: a concubine from a
harem, there but for no other purpose than to please him. It no
longer mattered what she looked like; the important factor was
whether she was doing nice things to him - and at that moment that
was not in doubt.
Eventually he
reached the stage where frustration was paramount, and again she
seemed to anticipate this. All at once the teasing movement
stopped. Her finger entered his body purposefully, and began to rub
inside. Kevin felt every muscle in his body quiver into an
exquisite tightness of expectation. He shivered and gasped like a
man in the throes of a raging temperature. He felt seepage from his
penis, and wished she would grasp it with her other hand. He almost
lifted his hips so he could slip his own hands under his body, but
almost in anticipation of his thoughts, her massaging increased in
speed, leaving him floundering, legs widening in anticipation.
Gradually the buzz built inside him and to his own surprise he knew
he was going to ejaculate despite the fact that his penis had not
been touched once. He stiffened, coalesced into one massive orgasm
centred around whatever she was massaging in his anus, and spurted
onto the carpet beneath his glazed eyes.
Then he
collapsed, replete, and discovered that she was once again softly
rubbing his body, not massaging, just gently revering his male
wonderfulness. With that thought, he finally dozed off.
When he awoke
a few minutes later he found Tanya kneeling before him, eyes
attentive. She smiled softly.
'Is my master
hungry now?' she asked sweetly.
To his
surprise he was, and ambitions of further sex drifted amiably away.
Boy, she had been good. But enough was enough. He rolled over, sat
upon the couch, his feet dangling, and scratched happily at his
crotch.
'Do you like
Indian food?' she asked. 'My treat. But first, stand up and turn
around and cross your wrists.'
Somewhat
amused, Kevin did as he was told. He had no objection to his wrists
being tied, but if she thought he was going to get it up again in a
while, she'd had it.
Once his
wrists were tied she picked up a small length of red silk cord.
'Spread wide if you would, master.'
'What are you
going to do?'
'In India this
has a special name which, literally translated, means waiting in
pleasure.'
'What does it
do?'
'Would you
like to find out?'
He shrugged,
and would have been just as happy to have a description, but what
the hell. 'Then do we go get some food?' he asked.
'As my master
wishes.'
She knelt
before him and took his empty balls in her hand, and wrapped a
complicated knot around them which lifted and separated, and left
two lengths of looped cord hanging. Utterly deflated by his most
recent and wonderful orgasm, Kevin smiled slightly. Okay, it felt
quite nice, but response was noticeably lacking.
'Now,' she
said, 'if my master will come to the kitchen?'
He shrugged
and followed. For some ancient Indian technique, the confinement
was singularly uninteresting. In the kitchen she requested him to
sit on a hard seat, his bound hands behind the tall back, his
testicles hanging through a hole in the seat. She knelt beside him.
'My master's ankles?'
Now he
realised what the dangling loops were for he almost balked, but she
waited dutifully until he reached his ankles slowly towards her
under the chair, and slipped his ankles into the loops provided
before rising gracefully to her feet and over towards the kitchen
worktop.
Kevin held his
legs taut for a moment, then realised he was not going to be able
to hold that tension for long, and relaxed slightly, allowing the
cord to take the weight of his lower limbs. At once his testicles
stretched down well below the seat. At first the sensation was
uncomfortable rather than painful, but all too soon that
changed.
He gritted his
teeth and wondered how long he should put up with this torment
before insisting she untied him.
He winced,
wriggled, and lifted his legs, and the pressure released, but
within moments his legs drooped again and the pressure under his
crotch rose, pulling his testicles again. His bound hands clenched
slightly as if they would assist in taking away the pressure, but
he could reach nothing.
'Jesus!' he
gasped after a moment. 'How long would a man in India be expected
to sit like this?'
'As long as it
takes, master,' she said ambiguously.
Sweat built up
on his face as he wriggled around a bit more, lifting one buttock,
then the other as he tried to find a comfortable spot. But the more
he wriggled the more the strange pressure built up, the pain
becoming almost excruciating. And yet, he had to concede that his
penis had inflated just a tad.
Tanya was
humming to herself, cutting small red peppers on a chopping board.
He watched her, almost surprised that she was actually getting on
and cooking a meal, having supposed that the sex bit over, they
would probably just nip out for a take-away.
'Tanya?' he
grunted.
'Yes, master?'
The kohl-rimmed eyes assessed him over the veil.
'I think I'd
like you to untie me.'
'If my master
wishes.'
She glided
forward, knelt between his legs, and bent her head into his lap.
Unhesitatingly she lifted his penis to her mouth with her tongue
and began to caress it, her hands reaching under the chair to slide
up and down the back of his stretched balls. Kevin gasped at the
unexpected action and froze, his hips arched towards her, another
shot of blood pumping into his penis. As she licked an unnatural
glow began to suffuse his nether regions. His hands clenched.
Christ, she'd been chewing the chillies!
As his
erection began to blossom, so the cord was no longer a pain, but an
aphrodisiac. Now a finger was rubbing erotically against his anus,
and to his surprise he again became fully erect, hard as a
nail.
She looked up,
her sloe eyes heavy-lidded. 'Does my master still wish to be
untied?'
'Oh, shit no!'
he gasped.
But instead of
carrying on with her most wonderful fellatio, she stood up and went
back to her curry. In went the meat and the colourful ingredients.
Kevin was moving slightly, lifting one leg at a time to release the
tension, each movement accompanied by a gasp as his prick and balls
were pulled this way and that. After a few moments he closed his
eyes and concentrated on surviving the excruciating experience. Was
he supposed to stay like this until she had cooked the dinner? Was
he expected to eat like this? He knew he couldn't. A groan escaped
his lips.
With a flurry
of silk she was there again, her hands caressing his thighs, her
lips enclosing his spearing tool. As she began to work on him he
realised she was in total control. Although he moved fractionally
to further enjoy her clever tongue, there was a point beyond which
he could not move, and each time he reached it she would wait until
he froze against his bonds before continuing her torturously
delicate stimulation.
The pain of
his constriction was all the more exquisite because he knew all he
had to do was utter a single word and she would release him. But
that was not the release he wanted. He felt the delicate rasp of
her teeth against his throbbing helmet and thought he was about to
explode. But still she stimulated him, her hands pressed against
his hips to give herself the leverage she needed as she leaned down
and sucked him in and out of her throat in long, languorous drafts.
He held on as long as he could, his face going redder and redder as
he held his breath with the effort, knowing the minute he relaxed
he was going to lose it.
Then he
allowed the orgasm to build. It started in his constricted
testicles, cascaded outward in waves before flooding back to
explode violently into Tanya's clutching throat. He wallowed in
delicious ecstasy as he felt her muscles spasm as she
swallowed.
As pleasure
faded he realised he was now in extreme discomfort, but before he
could make a single complaint, Tanya slipped his ankles free.
He leaned back
in the chair, eyes closed, savouring the aftermath, and when he
looked again Tanya was calmly putting the curry on the stove to
simmer.
'What did you
call that?' he asked at last, shuffling on the seat to relieve the
pressure on his balls.
She gave a
cheeky grin, and said, 'My master can call it what he wishes.'
'Are you going
to release me now?'
'If my master
wishes it.'
'But?'
'I would like
to feed my master and please him again.'
'Not
possible,' he responded sadly.
She said
nothing, but her eyes sparkled with amusement, and he realised that
he had now come twice, and still had not seen the merest hint of a
pussy.