Altered States

He gave me time.  We were full from breakfast.  We sat and read email, blogs, etc.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Life as usual. 

He got up to do some laundry and then he was by my side in the living room. “Strip.” He said with no emotion, no explanation.  I unzipped my jeans vest and pulled off my shorts.  I stood naked before him. “Nice.  Follow me.”

Into the bedroom we went.  There were ropes everywhere.  He had been busy while he was doing the laundry.  “Get into the center of the bed,” he said as he adjusted the ropes at the headboard.  A large O ring was centered at the top of the large wooden headboard. I recognized it as a piece of equipment that is usually used under the mattress so that you can tie a person spread eagle to a bed withiut a frame.  This was going to be different. 

I laid on the bed in the center.  I was nude and felt the air from the  fan play across my skin.  He took one of my wrists and looped black rope around it several times tying a knot below my palm.  Then he tied the other wrist in similar fashion.  Each wrist was then secured to a ring an each side of the headboard.  Now I was unable to move my hands.  When I pulled on one the other would become secured closer to the wooden frame.  Oh, they are linked behind the bed.  I thought. The more I move the tighter I’ll be pulled on one side or the other. Devious.

Then he looped more black rope around my thighs.  Each thigh had many loops of rope, then each was tied off around the loops at my inner thigh.  The rope would secure me but not pull on my skin. Finally he pulled each leg up by ropes through the O ring in the center of the headboard right above my head.   As I looked up I saw a network of ropes strung from the upper corners of the bed and from my thighs.  I was trapped with my knees at my breasts, my hands bound and my sex wide open to him. 

He stood over me and surveyed his work. He smiled with approval.  “I can smell your sex.  I think you like this.” Then he took out the implements he had hidden by the bed.  A crop, a feather duster, and other items I couldn’t see.  Oh, I was in for it.  He mounted the bed and settled himself between my legs.  He blew air on my pussy.

I felt his nose first.  He ran his nose over my sex and up around the clit.  Then his tongue flicked over my labia, caressed my sensitive skin.  My senses were already heightened from being tied and now his tongue lit me up. Soft fluttering caresses that set me on fire. I was whimpering and pulling on my bonds to get to him. 

He pulled back, I hoped to mount me, but he picked up a crop instead.  He smacked the top of my pussy with it.  I jumped with every strike.  I tried to calm myself and bear the impacts but I was slipping away from my control. The binding ropes trapped me yet set my mind to flight. 

As the stinging sensations accelerated so did my need to beg for mercy. Before I reached my limit he knelt again to lick my pussy.  I was out of my mind.  First gentle flicks of the tongue, then hard sucking, then back to gentleness.  I was moaning loudly, unable to stop myself. 

He picked up the crop again.  My sex was wide open, my thighs tied back, my toes barely touching the bed.  The sting of contact shot through my pelvis jolting me. “Daddy!”

“What baby girl? Don’t you like it?” He said with a devilish smile.  He knew I liked it. The stings were harder and deeper now.  The first round was to bring the blood to the surface. This was the main event. It seemed that crop strikes followed by the more subtle torment of licking were the order of the day.  Each round pushed me closer to climax.

His finger hovered around the entrance to my pussy.  Caressing the pouty lips on each side.  I arched forward.  Finally!  Some kind of fucking! As sexual play ramps up, I have a one track mind.  Fuck me! Put it in, fill my hole, fuck me! My pelvis pounded forward propelling towards surcease.  His finger lazily dropped down to my asshole.  No! Not there! He rubbed little circles getting it wet then he pushed it in my ass.  

“Daddy! Fuucckk….” I’m not sure if that was a request or an expletive.  Either way, he wasn’t listening. His tongue bathed my pulsating clit.  His finger kept prodding my ass.  My throbbing, aching, hungry pussy sat forgotten on the edge of the dance floor waiting with her cocktail glass dripping sweat down her dress.

“Daddy please.” Pitiful. He ignored it.  “Daddy please fuck your slut.”  His eyes rose to look at his trussed up prize then went back to his work. “Please fuck your dirty whore.” He finally took notice. 

“You want to be fucked, do you?” His voice dripped with his Cheshire smile. “Hmm.” Noncommittal though he feigned, he finally he rose.  Yes, yes, yes! 

“Yes Daddy, please!” I was gone.  I looked up to him through atmospheres of dreamy landscapes.  

“You are mine.  I own you. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Daddy. Yours.”  I was laid bare to him.  Raw and exposed. 

“You are my dirty little whore.” He was poised at my clutching hole. He thrust forward cleaving me with his meaty cock.

“Yes Daddy, god yes!” The feeling was indescribable. Shivers of pleasure covered my body.  My mind sang.  I gripped the rope that bound my wrists to the bed. I wanted to wrap myself around him but was denied.  Thrust after thrust filled my needy pussy with the cock I so desperately wanted. 

“Take it!” His face above me, his hands on me.  His intensity broke free. 

“Fuck your little slut, your whore, fuck my cunt.  Please Daddy, fuck me, fuck me.” On and on I rutted in a hypnotized frenzy.

“Take it, take my seed!” He thrust to the hilt and pumped hot come deep inside me.  I felt it spurting out between us as his cries and grunts played across the room. 

Afterwards, he untied me in sections.  I cleaned us up while still in a stupor, ropes dangling from my wrists.  I came back down sometime after that. 


15224320290_3fb112b74d_hYesterday, I texted Mr. D that after having to make some hard decisions about my parent in the hospital, I was feeling fragile.  I was scheduled to be with him all this weekend and wasn’t sure how I would be. I had felt like crying off and on all day Friday and held it together for work and child but when you don’t have any downtime you don’t have any time to grieve.

When I got to his place, I found out that he had shopped and cooked all afternoon so that we had dinner and food for the weekend.  He didn’t want to leave anything to chance, not having been through a ‘fragile’ time with me.  I love this man so much.  I was deeply touched that he put so much effort in making sure everything was perfect for me.  I didn’t have to think of anything.  I walked in and he had dinner ready for us.

A dear friend had run errands for me and made my prep time before coming to Mr. D’s much easier.  Instead of running around, I was done early and had a chance to dress in sexy clothes for Mr. D.  I have felt bad that lately I’ve been so immersed in hospital life that I have shirked my desire to be beautiful for him. So, I had a relaxing shower and put on a sexy outfit for Mr. D.  I did my makeup and felt like his girl inside out. (He took pics, maybe I’ll share them if I get to see them.)

After dinner he said he had something planned. He had me strip and sit in the middle of the bed. He turned the lights down and put on this amazing Japanese instrumental music. It was reed flutes and drums, gorgeous emotionally stimulating and sensual music. Then he sat behind me so that I leaned up against his body. He had a mask on me but decided against it and just told me to keep my eyes closed. I felt his warmth and his body supporting mine.  I could smell the heady scent of candles.  Then I felt rope.

It trailed across my naked skin.  First across my neck, then down my chest until it encircled a breast.  The atmosphere and his touch consumed and lulled my mind.  My eyes were closed so I felt every touch of his hands and the rope on me, controlling me.  He trailed the across my belly and down my body.  Then it was around my wrists, binding my hands together.  One place after another on my body felt the touch of the rope.  His hands on my neck lifting my chin then the rope would restrict me there.  Each place would feel the rope then be released.  His hands and the rope were seducing me into a soft place where I floated within the circle of care.  His voice, his touch, his control were my everything.

He was the touchstone to my need, he fulfilled the desire I did not know I had.

To watch this method of rope play, look here.

Image from breathtakingly through CC2.0 with attribution and found on Flickr.