I wait in my leather Chesterfield chair. You walk in hunched and anxious at first, then eyes wide with surprise and wonder as you notice the room around you. It’s a fully kitted kinky playspace: atmospheric coloured lighting, full scaffold rig, padded floors, 2m high mirror, kneeling bench, sturdy cage and bed and racks of toys all hidden in an unassuming North London flat. With the soft fabrics and harsh steel scaffold it balances sensual and scary, sexy and intimidating.
I direct you to the centre of the room and tell you to stand there. After closing the door, locking us into this space together and closing out any remnant of the outside world, I stalk over to you. I stand square in front of you, looking you up and down, my gaze settling on your eyes. You just don’t know where to look, breasts, lips, eyes, the floor; your eyes dart around everywhere. The correct answer to your unasked question is my eyes, you look into my eyes.
My right hand strokes it’s way behind your head and pulls you towards me. My left hand wraps around your shoulders and holds you still and strong. I feel your arms twitch, instinctively going to my waist, then hanging limp again as your brain kicks in and you remember just who you are with. We breathe together, I can feel your racing heart against my breasts. I press my body hard against yours and begin writhing, swaying and grinding by millimetres, moving your body in the mere suggestion of a dance. You relax further into my arms and I can feel your cock stirring against me, still trapped in your jeans.
When I feel your arms twitch again desperate to grasp some part of me I grab your wrists firmly and hold them behind your back, my arms wrapped around your waist. I look you meaningfully in the eye until I see you understand. Gently I unbutton your collar then grip it firmly, pressing my fists into your neck whilst holding you close. I rip open the next button. You startle at the sudden change of pace. I continue down, sending buttons bouncing off in all directions, tearing your shirt off in a display of raw, controlled desire. When your shirt is hanging off you I begin to run my warm hands all over your smooth skin under your shirt, invading your space, claiming it as mine.
The shirt falls off your shoulders to the floor with a soft rustle then I begin with your belt. My breath is hot on your neck, your naked chest pressed against my silk vest. After I’ve opened your jeans I tease you, running my fingers around your waistband, around your pants, creating pressure and movement against your cock with the fabric but not quite touching it. You’re breathing is heavy. I’m enjoying the visceral reactions to my every touch, the knowledge that in this moment you find me completely irresistible, yet you are mastering yourself, for now.
I look into your sparkling eyes and in a low voice tell you “This is going to be fun. I’ve barely even started yet and look at you”. You shudder.
After several minutes of teasing your cock through the fabric of your jeans and pants you stand naked and vulnerable in front of me. I step back and look you over, I love this part: the opportunity to explore a whole new body, every one is always so different. I run my fingernails all over your sensitive skin, alternating between holding you tight against me and barely touching the air around you. Your body twitches in response to my touch as you watch my dance in the mirror, entranced.
I push you against the bed so your ass is resting against the side and your body is crushed between it and me. Your cock presses hard against my jeans and I continue grinding against it, subtly. I claw at your chest, focussing to points on your erect nipples. Rolling them between my fingers, pulling, pinching, listening for the quickening of breath to say you’ve felt it, and the little whimper that says I’m going just far enough.
“Get up on the bed, on your back, head on the pillow”
You comply immediately, and quickly you’re blindfolded and attached to the corners with my luxurious leather cuffs. Now that you’re blind and helpless I gather supplies from around the room. I see you trying to figure out what each rattle and snap is and make more noise, just to fuck with you.
Straddling you, with your warm cock pressed against the crotch of my jeans I loose myself in your naked chest. I squeeze clamps around your nipples and smile as you gasp. I drip sensual hot wax over your skin drawing lines and circles, then carefully scrape it off again with a cold steel blade. Next I spike your skin with my 5 wheel pinwheel until you moan and writhe. I hold my face close to yours, my breath over your lips. Gently I kiss around your lips, tiny little butterfly kisses. I can feel you straining to taste me, and we both know you never quite will.
I take your blindfold off and look into your eyes. You’re so spaced out. We smile at each other. You grin stupidly because you’re high. I grin excitedly because I know what’s coming next.
Then I move my body down between your legs, and with my gloved hands covered in lube I begin massaging your cock and balls. I tell you to let me know when you get close to orgasm. I work quickly, excited to know where that point is so I can spend eternity keeping you right there: close but not quite over the edge.
It doesn’t take long. “I’m close” you rasp out. I hold my hands still for a moment whilst you bring your breath back under control. I start moving my hands again, oh so slowly. One rotating around the base of your cock, the other spiralling over the head and back again.
“You’re absolutely not allowed to cum until I say, understand?” I breathe into your face, looking you directly in your eyes
“Yes Sir” you whisper out, barely able to catch your voice.
I’ve seen once what your body looks, sounds and moves like just before orgasm and with this knowledge I keep you completely under my control. I combine skills learned studying erotic massage with a sadists delight in torment to edge you, watching your frustration build every time you think you’re going to cum and I stop. I love being in such complete control of your body. Right now I know you would do anything I say just to cum. Knowing only I can control when that happens, it’s a massive rush.
“You bitch” you cry out as I stop for the umpteenth time.
I laugh as you suddenly realise what you’ve said, and I slap you sharply across your face. “Remember who you’re with, if you can’t take it I’ll find something else to amuse myself” I say grinning broadly.
You whimper and beg. I remove the clamps that were still forgotten on your nipples and laugh at your scream
“Are you going to be more careful?”
I continue teasing you a while longer, then tell you you have my permission to cum. You grin and thank me repeatedly, you stupid thing.
I do everything I can to make it difficult for you: grip you so lightly you can barely feel anything; grip you too tight around the base; tell you you have to do the work, I’m no longer moving my hand; start pulling your balls and just leave your cock to twitch; rub only your frenum and nothing else.
Eventually your chest turns red, your breathing stops, your body tenses and cum oozes from the head of your cock. I immediately pull my hands away, watching your cock in fascination like some alien creature as it twitches and spurts. Your body thrusts uncontrollably, you pull against your restraints as you roar.
I never said I was going to make it a good orgasm.