Encounter: The Bondage Bed
Madeleine Oh


All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Madeleine Oh

 

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The Bondage Bed

 

The bed thrilled Marie the first time she saw it in Auntie Fluff’s pastel pink boudoir. Auntie Fluff was as old as God and her bed was a creation of pink satin, lace hangings, a brass headboard with rails and looped chains, and more knobs and finials than four-year-old Marie knew how to count.

“It’s an Italian bed,” Auntie Fluff once said, flattered at Marie’s blatant fascination. “Alain shipped it over as my wedding present.”

Just the thought of that bed coming across the Atlantic sparked Marie’s imagination. She wanted to lie under those snowy white sheets and float over the waves while she rubbed her face against the satin covers and felt the bumpy lace between her fingers. Once, when no one was looking, seventeen-year-old Marie sneaked in and sat astride the satin padding at the foot of the bed, shivering with goose bumps as the shiny fabric rubbed between her thighs.

When Auntie Fluff died no one wanted the bed. Except Marie.

She’d spent a good chunk of plastic money restoring and reupholstering her bed and installing it in pride in its place in her apartment, but as time went by, Marie wondered if her dreams of passion were as unrealistic as her childhood belief that the bed was enchanted.

Then she met Luke, handsome and bedworthy with dark eyes that hinted of knowledge. Marie was eager to be conquered, but Luke seduced slowly, over long conversations, walks by the river, and phone calls that lasted into the night. He would not be hurried, seeming to want to possess her mind before he took her body but eventually she enticed him into her bedroom.

“Good Lord! You never told me you had a bed like this.” Luke ran his fingers down the brass rail. “I never dreamed.”

She laughed. “Is the attraction me, or my bed?” She’d never heard of a furniture fetish but who knew…

Luke smiled and pulled her close. Marie heard a moan she recognized as her own but then forgot everything but the taste of his mouth and his hand easing her blouse off her shoulders. All that mattered was the thrust of his tongue and his fingers easing down her zipper and holding her steady as she stepped out of her skirt.

Her bra disappeared. To the floor? In the air? As if she cared with his fingers teasing her nipples and his promises in her ear. She was lying on her back. His mouth closed on her breast and she felt his kiss right down to her groin. A slow shudder accompanied the movement of his hand over her belly. Marie moaned as he touched the inside of her thigh. Shivered as she felt his fingertips brush her pussy. And whimpered as his hand moved away. “Don’t stop. I want more.”

“You’ll get a whole lot more. I promise. But first, let me show you…” He reached over and pulled one of the brass chains toward her. “Bondage chains.” A smile curved his mouth as he swung the end, watching her reaction.

“No way! This bed belonged to my great aunt!”

Luke went on. “These chains once held satin or velvet manacles. The rails are for attaching straps or scarves. And as for that padded foot you had so beautifully restored. Perfect for disciplining an unruly lover.”

Had she got herself a pervert? Marie shivered, trying to ignore the wetness gathering between her legs. “You’re imagining things!”

Luke shook his head. “Not unless I’m imagining your interest and arousal as well.” His hand felt her mound through the lace of her panties. Smug wasn’t the word for the look on his face as he moved his hand away. “You’re wet.” He licked his fingers. “And horny… for what I can give you.”

Maybe. But she wasn’t desperate. Was she? “What are you planning on giving me?”

His eyes darkened as he whispered, “Pleasure.”

How could she refuse, when his mouth played her nipples until she moaned and begged for more. His fingers barely touched her skin as he rolled down her fine mesh nylon stocking. He kissed the inside of her bare ankle and she felt his lips right up to her pussy. Marie gasped, her chest heaving. Luke eased her other stocking off. She waited for the same sweet kiss on her ankle but this time he lifted her leg and kissed behind the knee. It almost had her in orbit.

“We really should use this old bed as it’s intended,” Luke said, holding her wrist. “Agreed?”

“What?” Luke had her stocking around her wrist. “You’re not tying me up!”

“I won’t. Just one stocking ‘round one wrist. That’s the only knot I’ll tie. Promise.” He kissed the soft skin above the knotted hose. “Now lie down.”

She was nuts, or horny beyond reason, but she settled back on the pillow as Luke brushed the hair from her forehead, stroked the curve of her cheek down to her jaw and trailed his fingers down her neck to her shoulder. His mouth closed over her nipple and nipped. She jumped and realized he had her arm over her head.

“Easy,” Luke whispered, holding her arm steady. “I’ve threaded your stocking through the rails. Here’s the other end. Hold it.” Marie’s right hand closed over the end of the stocking. She pulled and felt the pressure on her left arm. She relaxed and her other arm went slack. “See. Only one knot. Hold onto the other end. Let go when you want to be free. You’re in control.”

Was she? Did it matter? Not when his hands cupped her breasts, jiggling and squeezing them as if testing their weight. She was hot and desperate and he hadn’t even got her panties off. She felt the slow tease of his fingers between her breasts and his warm kisses on her belly… and lower.

“I want you inside me,” she muttered.

“Soon, Marie. Be patient.” Luke eased up the mattress. “Close your eyes.” His hand brushed over her forehead and his thumb and a finger lowered her lids. “Good. Not seeing heightens sensation.”

She had to be crazy! Lying here in the dark, grasping the end of her stocking for all she was worth waiting for… Luke kissing her toes one by one with slow deliberate precision. Talk about toe curling! She’d have giggled but he changed from kissing to sucking and she couldn’t think too well with his mouth clamped on her big toe.

“Like that?” he asked. God yes! She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. “Good. You like the sensations in the dark don’t you?”

Why try to deny it? His hands eased her panties down. She saw the image clear in her mind’s eye. She was nude and lewdly spread while he was still clothed. The image was as arousing as heck and Marie grew wetter by the second.

“Yow!” Her shoulders came off the bed as he pinched her arm. “That hurt!”

“Just a little.” He kissed where his nails had nipped and soothed the pinpoint of pain. “Better?” She nodded in the darkness and then jerked again as he pinched her thigh. He continued pacing his pinches to her yelps and then caressing the hurt away with his lips and tongue. Her free hand tightened on the stocking as she braced herself for the next nip… and felt his hand on her mound, cupping gently until her hips arched. She whimpered as he parted her labia and held the soft folds open as he… did nothing. He held her open but nothing else… no kiss, no touch. She was twisting up inside with need. She jerked her hips, hoping he’d take the hint. “I need you inside me, Luke.” She was half-way to begging and didn’t care.

“I know you do, my love. You’re wet and glistening and I’ve never seen a cunt as red and horny as yours.”

Her face had to be red to match. She hated blushing, but no one had ever spoken that bluntly to her before and now… He wasn’t even touching her… He was gone. “Luke!”

His voice soothed through her panic. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I can’t fuck you with my pants on.” Marie relaxed, listening in the dark to the soft clink of his belt buckle and the quiet rasp of his zipper. She sensed movement and the mattress shifted under his weight. He kissed her belly. “I love a hot cunt like yours.”

And then he touched her.

It wasn’t nearly enough, just a brush of his finger slowly feeding her need until her hips moved in rhythm. She was close to coming but wanted him inside first. She needed him. She…

Nothing.

Marie wanted to spit. To scream. This was killing her. Gradually the tension in her body eased and her breathing slowed. Just when she relaxed, still aching but feeling calmer, he restarted. This time sending a trail of kisses up the inside of her thigh, stopping close enough to her clit that she could feel his breath but nothing else.

“Tell me where you what my lips,” Luke said, “and I’ll kiss you there.”

“On my clit and in my cunt.” She was no doubt purple by now…

His fingers opened her. Wide. His breath came warm where she needed him and then his tongue touched her. He lapped her, the full flat of his tongue covering her with slow, teasing licks from her ass to her clit. Each one took minutes and turned her mind to mush. But who needed to think? All she wanted was to feel. She was covered, consumed, devoured. No wonder men called it eating pussy.

She was moaning and hanging onto the stocking for all she was worth when he paused. His tongue plunged deep inside her. Slow, stabbing movements that sent her head back and her hips up. In and out he went, mimicking the movement of a cock… his cock. Sweat ran between her breasts and her right wrist ached. It could drop off for all she cared.

“Come into me. Fuck me!” She was begging but she no longer cared.

“Like this?”

His fingers penetrated her. She was filled. Stretched. Marie shuddered with satisfaction as his fingers moved in and out. Sweet friction driving her closer to coming as his thumb worked her clit.

Her mind switched off as her instincts took over. She was nearing the edge, heart racing. Panting now, she arched her back and her hips rocked. She was climbing, spiraling up and up. She screamed. Her mind flipped, her body soared and she came… again and again until she collapsed a quivering heap on the bed. The stocking fell out of her hand, Luke’s arms surrounded her and she tasted herself on his lips.

Marie opened her eyes and blinked in the light. Luke was smiling. “So you want my cock?”

Her body still rippled from her climax but how could she refuse? “Yes.”

“With pleasure.” Had he chuckled? Why not? She felt like whooping. Luke entered her fast and hard, drilling her with his power and raw male sex, working his need inside her and pulling her back with him. She was coming again… and again… like staccato bursts of repeating fire. In the haze of what used to be her brain, she was vaguely aware of his groans and the heat inside her as he climaxed. She was limp and warm but still she came until she went light headed and collapsed under him.

“You were superb,” he whispered, untying the stocking and gently massaging her wrist. “You held this too tight.”

“Did I?”

“Stockings are no damn good. Next time I’ll bring proper restraints.”

“Next time?”

“Of course. There’s a lot more you need to learn about this old bed.”

 

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