CAMELOT FANTASIES

Friday Femdom Fiction: She Ties Him Up And Uses His ****




The rope threads in and out, criss-crossed clean cotton clothesline, harnessing him in cruciform against the headboard.
She’s biting her lip in concentration, pulling him a little bit back and forth as the cord laces him into increasing immobility. This doesn’t stop her from admiring the lanky lines of his arms and the way she can see the muscles of his wide shoulders move under his skin as he flexes. His struggles become more serious the more he’s restrained.
He’s naked and his **** is half filled by her wriggling against him and the promise of what’s about to happen. She’s still in pyjama pants, but her breasts are uncovered, blush pink nipples pointed, softness of her chest brushing as she leans in.
“There now!” She takes a step back and considers her handiwork, and he responds by giving one hard wrench, a lurch forward that confirms he’s stuck. The whole binding his held by a simple knot in the centre of his chest, slightly to the left. “Now I get to play.”
Her fingers are, at first, just light brushed and then the rake of her nails on his skin, her hand capturing his chin to force him to take a kiss. “Mine.”
She takes her right hand between his legs, nudging them apart with a hip check so he’s completely exposed to her. She starts her grip at the base of his ****, pulling him erect, alternating fingers curling tight and sliding, find the sensitive spot at the head of his **** until she’s drawn him fully upright
His eyes become wide and seeking, his mouth softened. She continues with brisk strokes, base t just below the head, now grabbing his neck. He freezes and she makes him meet her gaze, holding the moment until at last she see the flinch of submission is making him pull away.
For that she redoubles the tugging, bends and slides the head of his **** into her mouth. Her tongue curls, teasing hand holding it firmly on target as her lips make a wet seal. She likes the warmth and the texture in her mouth, and the imperceptible taste, something of him she cannot fully articulate when she tries to concentrate on it.
He’s getting desperate now, all slick with her saliva and her body squirms, hips shifting in a rocking motion. She brings him almost to the edge and breaks off the stimulation, letting him feel the frustration even as she aggressively kicks her way out of her pants. He should know what’ll happen next when he sees the dark of her ****. She strokes two fingers between the livid curl of her inner labia, sliding the moisture from the whorl of her **** to the projecting pout of her clit in its hood. Opening herself with those two fingers, she caps his **** and then pushes, her hand resting on his shoulder now.
He has his legs together obediently, and she’s straddling his lap with him engulfed all pleasant and pinned by the rings of muscle in her ****, but he warns her, as she begins to lift herself up and down, that he doesn’t know how much endurance he has.
She laughs and promises him, whispered in his ear – “No love, you’ll come when I want you to.”