He doesn’t need to blindfold me.
The room is dark as pitch, even with my eyes wide open, staring so hard that I can feel my pupils dilated fully, making my ears ring, all I see is dark in dark.
The high backed wooden chair I’m tied to is the only solid thing my senses can grab hold of, the harshness of the rope that binds my hands tightly behind my back and my feet to the chair legs. Another around my waist stops me from moving my hips more than slightly forwards.
I jump slightly as he touches my shoulder, hadn’t realised he was there.
So close, so quiet.
His breath’s by my ear and it tickles as he whispers, “If you follow the rules you’ll have fun…. But….” He pauses and wraps a large hand around my neck, squeezing gently. “….. But you won’t displease me. Will you.”
Its not a question.
Staying silent seems to be wise.
His mood is high but controlled. I’m never sure which way it will swing when he’s like this. He doesn’t scare me, never scares me, but I want to please, I want him to be proud of me.
His hand leaves me, the nerves in the places his finger tips touched me seem to press up against my skin, trying to find him.
I’ve lost him again.
The dark is complete, disorientating, and he doesn’t seem to be so much as breathing. I turn my head left and right, trying to catch the tiniest sound.
“The rules are these…”
He’s right in my face. My heart stutters behind my ribs at the shock.
“….. If you make a noise I stop. The first time you do it I stop for one minute. The next time, five minutes, the third time, ten minutes, and the fourth……” He’s nose to nose with me, he moves it across my face and for a moment his lips graze mine. Instinctively I learn forwards to kiss him, but his mouth has already passed. “….The fourth time I leave you for an hour. Any more than four times and I leave you here for the rest of the night.”
The basement was so dark, so silent. To be sat here in the dark with him was one thing. To be here on my own quite another.
“You don’t want me to leave you here alone all night do you?”
I shake my head even though I know he can’t see me. His fingers graze my cheek and I don’t need to see his face to know he’s smiling, I can feel it.
“I don’t want to leave you down here…..” His voice is low, so kind, it has that reasonable tone that makes me shiver. It shows how much thought he’s given this. “…. But I will. Because, you have to learn self control and we’re going to take as long as you need to learn the lesson. You’re going to find out just how patient I am.”
I feel his fingers pulling gently at my bra straps, pushing first one and then the other off my shoulders.
His hands are warm on my skin, the air in the basement’s cold and damp.
Gently he uses his thumb to circle around a nipple. The friction of his touch against the material that covers me is excruciating. A little moan tries to escape as they harden at his touch, but I clamp my teeth down on my lip and bite it back.
He stops moving his fingers and instead puts a hand on my head, gently pushing it down.
I let my upper body tip towards my knees and feel his fingers undoing my bra. I nearly speak then, nearly let the words tumble out, after all, how was he going to take the damn thing off with my arms tied?
Cold metal touches my arm and I hear the whisper of blade against material.
I bristle slightly.
He’s trashing nice bra!
But now he’s paying attention to my breasts again, this time with lips and tongue.
Every suck, every flick sends little shocks down my legs. I pull against the rope and try to push against him, but he moves back, keeping that same infuriating distance.
He cradles one breast in his hand and sucks hard on the nipple, pulling it further and further into his mouth before letting it go and giving it a quick nip.
If my hands had been untied I would have slapped them to my mouth, instead I press my lips hard together.
“One minute.” He says flatly.
I’m breathing heavily through my nose but can’t hear a sound from him. It’s like he’s not there.
My body’s still tingling, I find myself pulling against the ropes thrusting my chest forwards in the hope that I might yet find his lips.
He’s not there!
Has he left me here? Its surely been a minute already?
In my head I count to sixty, but I count fast and soon I’m at seventy four and really starting to feel worried.
I let out my breath in a rush, I hadn’t even know I was holding it.
His lips are on my breasts again.
His tongue flicks a nipple.
He draws the skin into his mouth briefly before letting it fall from his lips.
Removing his mouth, his hands go back to teasing while his lips move down my torso.
Gentle nips, licks and kisses are rained down on my stomach and hips, his hands come down to rest on my thighs, the finger tip pressure there making me jerk against the bonds.
Little moans keep trying to escape. I’d seriously never realised how much noise I usually made. Really, we’d hardly even started yet.
While he’s kissing at the inside of my thighs, I pull hard against the restraints trying to open my legs wider as though that will help the throbbing that’s intensifying between them.
His fingers graze at me, stroke the material and I can’t help it, a low groan escapes my lips.
He sounds disappointed in me. I want to apologise but it would only make matters worse.
This time I concentrate on breathing, try to ignore the ache in loins, the puckering of my nipples. I’ll be strong. I start to count in my head, marking the seconds with “pretty pony” so I don’t count too fast.
One pretty pony, two pretty pony, three pretty pony…..
It seems to take forever, I pass sixty then one hundred and twenty and then I lose count. For what seems like ages I freeze, try not to panic. I start to count again at two hundred but I’m not sure how long its been.
I’d thought this would be so easy, a simple way to prove my obedience, my love.
His hands go for my thighs again and I take in that he must have been crouched between my legs the whole time, waiting.
Fingers press against me again and this time I physically bite my tongue, determined not to utter a sound.
Gently, he pulls at my underwear.
I rise up in the chair as much as I can, only a fraction, but its enough for him to be able to slide my knickers out from under me.
As they get to my bent knees I feel metal again as he cuts through the fabric.
I don’t even think about it.
I just want his hands on me again.
His breath condenses on my skin as he breaths hard against me, his hands slide up my thighs, my body, briefly touch my chest before making their way back down to the soft skin either side of my pussy.
Usually I’m horribly ticklish there, he knows this and it’s the first spot he dives for if he wants me in a helpless heap on the floor, but now…
Now all my nerves are dead except for those straining against the throbbing between my legs.
His breath is on me and I taste copper in my mouth where I’m biting down so hard.
Fingers gently pull at me, exposing, my clitoris, which feels huge, fattened on a rush of blood.
“You’re doing so well.” He croons softly, like he’s talking to a shy horse, he wants to sooth me not startle me. “…So well…”
I feel the lap of his tongue and shudder hard against his mouth.
Not making a sound physically hurts, like something is caught in my throat and clawing its way up as fast as I swallow it down.
His tongue’s hot and slippery against me and I writhe against the restraints, push my hips as far towards his mouth as I can, but he’s in charge, and he knows it. He’s close enough to work but far enough away to tantalise rather than satisfy.
A finger strokes the skin around the edge and circles its way in.
My breaths coming in short bursts through my nose, my lips are crushed against each other.
It feels like his fingers are conducting electricity, everywhere he touches my muscles jump and dance. I look down into the darkness, almost expecting to see tiny blue flashes where his fingers meet my skin, but of course there’s nothing.
I spasm as he strokes inside me, in my head I’m shouting with frustration but outwardly I stay mute.
“Is it hard? Staying silent?” He laughs and I feel the vibrations through his lips. “I never thought you’d do so well, you’re nearly there aren’t you.”
He presses his mouth to me again and sucks at me.
I can feel my orgasm building as he works his finger in and out, alternatively sucking and rubbing the flat of his tongue against me.
A tingling starts in my toes and I push hard against him as he brings his free hand around to the small of my back and pushes me closer to him, painfully, against the ropes.
The darkness becomes tinged with blue as I coast towards the point of no return, everything tightening, preparing to snap back and give me release.
As he buries his face in my cunt, almost like he wants to climb inside me, his fingers digging into my flesh, I open my mouth and moan.
My whole body shaking.
I can hear him panting and for a moment I think he might just carry on.
“Ten Minutes.” His voice is flat.
“No! That’s not fair!” I can’t help it, the words tumble out before I can stop them.
A silence follows and then in, the dark, a disappointed sigh.
“One hour. And before you say anymore may I remind you that the next sound you make earns you an over night stay alone.”
My eyes burn with tears, if not for the dark they would have blinded me as they welled over and snake a passage down my cheeks.
I’m in limbo, that horrible, frustrating, painful sensation of being brought to the edge but not pushed over.
My legs twitched against the chair, my stomach muscles were clenched tightly, the heat between my legs still so intense but even now fading at the lack of his ministrations.
For the first time since the light went out I hear him moving, a slow tread away from me towards the stairs, the slight squeak of a wooden step halfway up, the opening and then closing of the door above me. I follow all the sounds even though I can’t see anything,
I feel like a blind woman, head pointed in the right direction but gaze always slightly off to the side as though she can’t bare to see what’s happening.
I want to crumple up on this chair and just sob, weep loudly with abandon, messily and loudly, but instead I take a low shuddery breath and swallow hard.
The lump in my throat sticks for a moment and I’m scared it will be too strong, that it will push its way put my mouth and betray me, sealing my fate for the night and even worse, showing him just how weak I am.
Not an option.
Gritting my teeth I swallow again.
Time to count.
My maths sucks. One hour. Sixty minutes, that’s what? Three thousand six hundred seconds.
I’m determined to make it, to not lose control and shout for him, to beg him to finish the game and let me come upstairs.
I’m sure he would, but there’d be that little bit of respect lost forever.
You’re strong enough.
In my head I send the first pretty pony out the gate and watch it gallop away into the purple hazed mountains beyond. As I spoke its name I sent away the second, then third…. In my mind the ponies left one second apart, tossing their heads and springing from a standstill to a flat out gallop off strong muscular hind legs, tails high like banners in the wind and every pony that left me was a little weight off my chest and a little prayer it took with it…. Please let me make it.
We met at work.
Only I don’t remember the first time I saw him.
He likes to tease me about this, the fact the he saw me walking across the office with a mutual college and was spell bound, the fact we were introduced, even shook hands, I’m ashamed to say I don’t remember.
In my defence I had a lot on my mind, an immanent deadline I had no hope of meeting, I’d spent most of that morning hiding in the ladies trying to cry quietly and hoping no one came to find me too soon. Work pressure and a shitty boyfriend.
Its no wonder I hardly registered him.
It was hardly a lightening flash of love at first sight.
Not like the movies.
He likes to tell me that back then I was like a messed up compass and one day I’d find the thing that made me happy and then, only then could I settle on North.
I’m not sure if I’m there yet, not a hundred percent, but sometimes I can feel that pull, the magnetic force, it grounds me and in those seconds I feel safe.
I never felt like that before he found me.
I’m losing track of ponies.
Was that one number four hundred or five hundred?
It’s like they’re getting away from me, either leaving for the mountains too many at a time or else hiding in the corral, reluctant to leave.
It seems darker.
I know it can’t be because the basement is completely subterranean, no windows at all, no change between night or day, winter or summer.
We hold so much store in light I realise. Even without knowing it we use the subtle changes in light to denote the time of day, the passing of minutes, without it we’re stuck.
Like floating in space, it’s a fathomless, infinite feeling, like your mind’s leaving your body and rising above you.
My heads slumped forwards on my chest, I can feel the thud of my heartbeat, the hardness of the chair I’m sitting on, the numbness in my hands, my elbows, my shoulders.
I don’t know, but somewhere along the line the panic receded, fell away, the darkness stopped being scary and instead felt almost womblike, it enveloped me, wrapped me up in crow wings of ebony until I was serene in my silence and solitude.
I don’t make a sound. I have this, it won’t beat me again.
My body lights up at his first touch, as though it were only hibernating, it doesn’t need a drawn out courtship, as far as its concerned we’re starting right at the point where we stopped.
He’s as silent as me, even his breathing is only noticeable by the warm moisture on the inside of my thighs.
I stay in that ethereal place in my head, aware of his tongue and hands on me, but distant, letting my body take over while I stayed firmly in my dreams, no longer tied to a chair in this damp basement, I’m flying higher, through the roofless house, the sky, the hazy atmosphere until I’m tumbling towards the stars, can feel their heat peeling the skin from my bones.
I snap back to my body as the last contraction of my orgasm fades, leaving me shaking hard enough that I can feel tiny blisters forming where my skin vibrates against the ropes.
“Clever girl. My girl, I’m so proud of you.”
He covers me with kisses, takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply. I can taste myself on his lips and a new spasm wracks my limbs.
He unties me , gently picks me up, holding me carefully, like a child. He’s not a huge man, he doesn’t have arms and shoulders like Dwayne Johnson but right now he feels Herculean, like he could carry the world.
I have my arms around his neck and my head buried in his chest.
My limbs burn but I push against him, nestle in as far as I can, press my ear against him to feel his heart beat behind the skin there.
He’s left the lights off throughout the house so that my eyes aren’t hurt, but in the bedroom he has a single candle burning, throwing long snaking shadows across the sheets.
Placing me on the bed he arranges me so that I’m lying in the middle, presented to him.
“My poor girl, look at you…” He’s kissing my wrists, the red mark around my middle. “For me…” He pushes his hands into my hair and kisses my neck. “You did this for me.”
I open my legs for him as he places his palms on my thighs. I feel like I can do so little, I’m washed out, emotionally I still feel like I’m in the dark. I couldn’t make a sound if I wanted to.
I feel his cock graze the inside of my thigh before finding what it wants, He hesitates, the head of it just resting at the entrance for a moment and then, with a slow deliberateness, he slides inside me.
He moans into my neck, his lips resting there as he stays still, savouring that first thrust, buried as far as he can go.
Its then that I realise that he had suffered.
When I was in the dark he was feeling lost as well, his disappointment, his patience as he waited, hoping I would prove him right in this small task.
Strength floods back into my limbs and I wrap my arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Fuck me. Please.”
He doesn’t answer, just rears back off me and then plunges in again with solid regular strokes.
It’s a straight fuck, something we haven’t done for a while, an honest to goodness screw. Its been so long since we all but ditched this mundane position that it’s suddenly exciting again.
I draw my knees up and catch him with my legs, urging him deeper, faster. He had one hand behind my neck and the other on the headboard, bracing himself against it as he picked up speed.
I tilted my hips as he sped up and there it was, that ache, that tightening in my cunt, I rise to meet him and this time as I come I cry out shrilly, tiny fragments of words flying from my lips, unformed, unheard by my him as he comes, lost in his own little death.
He lays heavy on me, crushes my chest to his, making it hard to breath in anything but shallow pants.
The candle splutters its self to extinction and in the dark he grabs the hair either side of my head and pulls he to him so we’re face to face, noses, forehead and lips crushed together.
He whispers fiercely at me like it’s a huge secret.
“Fuck!….Fuck!….” His breath’s hot and damp in my face. “My girl, My girl. I love you.”