“Please!” I yell, desperate and needy. “Please, Sir, please.”
I don’t even know if he can hear me but I’ve got to try, I’m on the edge but I can’t tip over. I’ve been trying, really trying. There is a cable of chain passed between my buttocks, drawn up tight between my pussy lips and lying over my clit.
The chain is holding the vibrator inside me. It’s buzz enough to excite me but not enough to bring me to ecstasy. It vibrates through the chain, tickling my clit but the pressure is so light I can’t come.
And my hands are tightly bound at my side and I mean tightly. Rope has a bit of give, chain doesn’t have any. Pulled tight it can’t be loosened. I’ve wriggled, I’ve writhed and my God, I have tried but I can’t move any bit of me far enough to bring me off.
If I could rub my thighs together, if I could hump the chain maybe I could just reach climax but my ankles are held apart by a steel spreader bar. I am trapped on the edge of ecstasy. Fucking bastard. Not that I’d call him that to his face but I’m thinking it really hard right now. Only he could turn something so good into a punishment, into an evil torture.
His chuckle reassures me he’s in the room. Through the blindfold I can’t see a thing. He is enjoying watching me squirm.
“Sir, please?” I whimper.
“Please help me come, Sir.”
He chuckles again, his voice closer now. Maybe he’s coming nearing to help me orgasm but maybe he just wants to see the sweat on my brow or the copious juices coating the chain and my cunt.
“I’ll be good.” I yell, desperate now, willing to do anything. “I’ll be so good, Sir. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?” He whispers just beside my ear and the tone and his breath on my skin produces goosebumps all over me.
“You know what I’m going to demand, don’t you?” He purrs, I can’t see it but I can hear the smug smirk in his words.
“Yes, Sir,” I sigh, “I know.”
“And you’ll do it, no arguments?” He pulls on the chain that curves between my legs, pulling the links tighter to my clit.
“Yes, yes, damnit, yes I will, Sir.” I cry.
“Okay then.” Without loosening the chain, he reaches down between my legs and rubs my clit. I croon and keen with delight as the pad of his finger squeezes it against the cold ungiving steel of the chain and finally I can fly free.
I come hard, screeching and squealing, thrashing against the pressure, sobbing my delight as the slow, controlled build up is released in a rush of explosive bliss.
“Good girl,” he whispers, stroking the indents in my skin as he unlocks and removes my heavy bonds.
“You could have just asked me to check if the milk was okay, you know.”
“I know, but where’s the fun in that?”
He has a point.