Going Dominant, Part two
The moans of the tied-up man
Read part one here.
The weeks went by and I kept seeing amusement park boy. Together we indulged in each other’s kinks, making memories together. The time he came on my face and kissed me right after, his cum swirling on our tongues between our mouths. The time I got handcuffed and he tried all my toys on me. The time he kept eating me out while I called a restaurant to order us dinner. But despite his exhibitionism and our shared kinkiness, neither of us had properly explored the fetish scene in London. We only played in private.
When we decided to go to a sex club together, it was hard to tell who was more excited. I fantasized about it for weeks and browsed fetishwear websites for inspiration constantly. On my phone on my way to work, with my left hand while having breakfast, on a private browser window from the office, in the background while watching films. I sent screenshots and requested opinions from him and all my girlfriends, comparing lingerie and harnesses. When I settled on a few items and finally sent him pictures of me wearing them, he approved immediately.
Then one evening at mine, he realised that he had never seen me wearing kinky gear in person. He was laying on my bed, scrolling on his phone, when he asked me to try my outfit on. The finishing touch — my beautiful fake leather boots, still unworn — had arrived just a few days before, and he had never seen them. I liked his proposal. I told him I’d try everything on, and asked him to close his eyes.
As I changed he laid on my bed, hands crossed above his stomach, a little smile on his lips, eyes shut. When I asked him to open them again, he looked stunned. I was wearing a black, shiny, sleeveless high waisted pvc bodysuit that left my bum and cleavage — expertly compressed into a very push-up bra — pretty much completely out. The high cut of the bodysuit left the bare skin of my legs visible from the top of my hips down to my mid-thighs, where the boots started. The thigh-high boots wrapped tightly around my legs all the way down to the heels, which pushed me up by a few inches. I really did look like a dominatrix on the cover of a porn dvd.
“Wow. You look hot”
I smiled.
“I look hot?”
I walked closer to the bed, towering over him. His eyes moved up and down my body.
“You do”
I got closer to him, curving my lips in a confident smile that didn’t reach the eyes, maintaining the intensity in my gaze. I moved a leg across his body and sat on him, straddling him.
“I do? You like this?” I teased him.
“Of course I do” He smiled, moving his hand towards me to grab my waist.
I slapped it before he could reach me.
“Who told you you’re allowed to touch me?”
His eyes widened, his expression showing surprise, arousal, submission.
“You’re going to have to ask for permission if you wish to touch me. Understand?”
“Yes”
I started touching him lightly above his trousers, teasing him. He laid back, immobile, looking straight at me, not daring to move his arms. I could feel that he was hard already. I smiled. I unbuttoned his trousers, touching him through the thin fabric of the boxers. Then I freed his dick, which rose from the fly like a cobra at the call of a flute. I dribbled a line of saliva on it and slid my fingers on its length, up and down, light as a feather, barely touching him. He trembled at my touch, his blue eyes locked into mine. I caressed it with the palm of my open hand, without fully grabbing it.
“You want me to touch you properly?”
His eyes burned with desire. “Yes”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes please”
I waited silently for a second.
“Take your clothes off”
As he stumbled to take off his t-shirt I got up and opened a drawer behind me. I turned around holding a leather belt and found him completely naked, still lying in the same spot. I walked back to him, straddling him once again.
“I want to tie you to my bed and tease you until you cannot take it anymore. Would you want that?”
His eyes pierced mine. “Please”
“Give me your hands”
He offered me his wrists, which I crossed and tied to the bed’s headboard. I looked down, a light of malevolent satisfaction shining in my eyes. He was completely naked, completely helpless, hard, unable to move. And I was completely dressed, down to the boots, on top of him, fully in control. I started touching his cock again, slimy with spit, caressing it lightly. I could tell he was desperate to get some relief. So I closed my fingers on it, holding it in my fist.
“I’m not moving my hand”
He looked at me lost, not understanding.
“If you want anything to happen you’ll have to be the one moving. My hand stays where it is.”
Hesitantly, and then with desperate urgency, he started moving his hips up and down, fucking my hand in its immobile grip. With his hands tied above his head, contorting to be able to get relief, he looked truly desperate. When he started moaning, I had to remind him that I have housemates. And when the volume of his moans didn’t decrease, I slapped him.
“You have to be quiet, understand?”
He nodded. My hand had left a wet spot on his cheek.
“You look like such a slut. Open your mouth.”
I spit in his mouth, and after swallowing he opened his mouth immediately for more.
“Say thank you”
“Thank you”
“Good”
I spit in his mouth again. And then slapped him, cause he still wasn’t whispering. I switched my focus to his cock, alternating between caressing and holding it. Without any need to remind him, as soon as my fist closed he’d start thrusting. But I’d never allow him to do it for more than a minute before opening my hand, making him rub himself onto my open palm.
When I thought that he had received enough attention, I decided it was my turn. I moved forward towards his head, propped in front of the crossed hands. He looked up at me, as I moved my bodysuit and panties out of the way and shoved my pussy in his face. Holding the headboard I started riding him, using him like a toy. I looked to the side at my full-sized mirror, making eye contact with myself as I thrust onto the tied man below me, fucking his face.
Then when I decided it was time, I grabbed a condom and placed it on him. His face contracted, burning with desire. I moved the bodysuit out of the way again and started rubbing his dick on me, teasing him. When I slid him in, riding slowly, I only allowed the head inside. He was panting, his dick throbbing. After a while, I took him in completely, for just a few seconds. And then I held myself up so that he’d have to thrust in me lifting his hips again, while I hovered on top of him.
His movement got desperate as he frantically tried to fuck me, I could see that he was near his limit. He was twitching, moaning, begging. I had to use my hand a couple of times to remind him to be quiet.
When he reached his breaking point, imploring me to let him cum, I tried to facilitate his movements. But our rhythms were mismatched, he kept reaching the edge and losing it. He’d thrust in me, shaking, moaning, then find himself unable to move for a second, shook by his twitching muscles; and then start thrusting again, on repeat, for what felt like minutes. When he finally came, he looked like he was seeing god. A final tremor shook him and then he laid still, panting, completely drawn.
I smiled, this time caringly. I bent down and laid my lips on his as I untied his hands. I pet his hair, kissing his head, telling him how good he had been. Then I laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing. He didn’t make a sound. After a few minutes, I got up, left another kiss on his closed lips, and took my boots off. He was still completely naked, and I was still completely dressed. I grabbed something more comfortable to change into and filled my water bottle. He still hadn’t spoken. I asked if he was okay, and he said he needed a minute.
I brushed my hair, washed my face, and lay next to him again. I offered him snacks and comfort. For a second I worried I had been too intense, that I had misread his reactions and pushed too far. But when he regained the ability to speak, he reassured me. He said I had just given him the most intense orgasm he ever had. He was stunned, exhausted, and depleted of any energy. He loved it.
I felt happy. I didn’t get much sexual pleasure from it, I was mostly focused on him. But I enjoyed everything about it: the way he twitched under my touch, his shaky voice as he begged me to let him cum, the way he lay unable to move as I rode his face. Above all, I loved giving him pleasure. We laid in each other’s arms, a documentary we weren’t watching playing in front of us, eating pre-packaged brownies and chatting, deconstructing the experience we just had.
While I grabbed the blanket to pull over us, I noticed some black marks on the wall, left where I accidentally kicked it while riding him. As I type this, they’re still there. I’ve never painted over them, the memory makes me smile.
Thank you for reading the second installment of my horny diary. What did you think? Did it turn you on? I hope so.
In the next episodes:
- My first experience at a sex club: Tears for Beers at Klub Verboten
- On aftercare, sub drop and good apologies
- The time I let a paypig buy me fetish gear
