Elizabeth's Bondage Boxed Set

  "Merci, mon cher. It is true. I am a good lover, but that is not so difficult. It requires only that I pay attention, and watch and listen to a woman and her body. And yet, why do you want me, Elizabeth? It is a puzzle I think I know the answer to, but I want you to seek your own truth. You say after a year of marriage you have trouble achieving climax with the man you love, and yet you do so easily with me. How can this be?"

  He shifted slightly, pulling her more tightly against him. "We will not discuss this further for now. But I leave you with this: consider why a woman who has so much control in all things, how can such a woman enjoy powerlessness as you do? For you have no power here, mon cher. No will of your own. I have all the power and you must do as I wish. But you enjoy it, Elizabeth. You like it very much, I think. Will you consider this matter, mon cher? And when you find the answer you will tell me."

  "Yes, Sir," she said, because it really was a good question. If she really thought about it, for some strange reason, despite the bizarre circumstances and underlying anxiety she actually felt safe, and content. Even happy when Sir bossed her around and took control, making her do things. Even things she didn't want to do.

  Which was just as well, because it turned out that he had already thought of something else she didn't want to do.

  And Elizabeth had no choice except to obey him.

  10. Wifely Secrets

  "Good," Sir said, "And speaking of power, and me making you do as I wish, I want to see you masturbate yourself. You thought to do it when the vibrator was on high, I perceive. So show me how you play with yourself. Right now."

  Elizabeth stiffened, reeling from this new line of attack. The man had her so on guard all the time, but she could never guess what he would do or want next. Masturbate in front of him? Well why not? I have done everything else. She sighed and reached her right hand down between her legs and perforce, cuffed as she was, her left hand came too.

  Sir's strong finger grasped hers. "Wait. Tell me, have you ever masturbated in front of anyone?"

  "No, Sir," she said.

  "Not even your husband, Mark?" His tone was incredulous.

  "No, Sir."

  "How often do you masturbate? And where do you do it?"

  "About once per day, I guess, and in the shower."

  "Why do you not do it with your husband? He would enjoy watching, I am sure."

  "I don't know. I guess I am a bit embarrassed and ashamed that I even do it. It is an impulse, a need that I just want to get over and done with. I never thought of telling him, or doing it with him watching. I don’t even think I could climax with him watching me - it would distract me. Besides, he might think I am a slut or something."

  "Mon Dieu! The truth from your lips is like the song of angels, mon cher." Sir gave her a fierce hug, and a chaste kiss on the cheek. "You do not shy around the difficult subjects, explain and make the justifications. I bow to you."

  This strong praise made her uncomfortable and she had no idea how to react to it.

  "Listen to me, mon cher. I do not keep you from your husband. If he is good, if you continue to be good and obey me, I will let you see each other, spend time together each day. You will like this?"

  "Oh, yes Sir, very much," she said, heartfelt relief in her voice. "I have been worried about Mark. Is he alright? Is he…very angry? I don't imagine that he will be good, so maybe you won’t let us see each other."

  Sir laughed. "You know this man very well. He is very angry and not at all convenable, this large, tough husband of yours. J'assure, Mark does not suffer too much. The torment that comes to him he brings on himself." He cupped her face. "Bon. Do not fear, mon cher. As long as you are good, I will let you spend at least an hour each day together. If he does not obey me I shall punish him another way, not by robbing you of time spent with him. This I promise. It may take awhile for your husband to…" she felt him shrug, "begin to understand. To see things my way."

  "Thank you, Sir," she said, and she meant it.

  "One more truth, then mon cher," he said. "You tell me that it is becoming difficult to climax with your husband, Mark? And that you have not told him this as you do not wish to hurt him. You are afraid he will feel less of a man, yes?"

  "Yes."

  "And you masturbate to ease your need, but this is another secret, no?"

  "Yes."

  "And you do not have the affair or go with another man?"

  "No! Of course not. Never."

  "Then how often do you fake the orgasm, when you have sex?"

  Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. Sir had not asked, "Do you fake orgasms?" but, "How often do you fake orgasms?" The man knew everything, and her humiliation was complete. She could not orgasm with the man she loved, yet could easily climax with this stranger. There was something seriously wrong with her. "I..well," she stammered, "most of the time."

  "Your husband he is a sensitive and considerate lover?"

  "Oh yes, Sir," she said fervently. "Mark is always very caring in bed."

  To Elizabeth's surprise, Sir laughed unexpectedly, long and loud. "And so, this is where he goes wrong," he said under his breath. "Mon cher, sex and love are two very different matters." He gave her torso a sympathetic squeeze. "I begin to think that it is very well that both of you spend your vacation with me."

  Before Elizabeth could make sense of this comment, Sir said, "Now. You are right handed, no? Then show me how those small sweet fingers can bring you to climax. And feel your clean shaven pussy. It is so pretty. Much more sensitive to your touch, you will find. But do not come, Elizabeth. I want to see you draw close, but do not climax. Naughty girls who climax without permission could find the riding crop striping their ass."

  She nodded. Right. Masturbate but don't climax or I will get whipped like a thoroughbred, when nose to nose near the finish line in the Kentucky Derby. Well. That shouldn't be too hard. How could she possibly climax anyway, knowing he was watching her masturbate? It was all too weird. She spread her legs, and lay back against him, concentrating, beginning to run her two fingers over her clit, and down into her pussy, then back to her clit. But it what was in her mind was the important thing. And what she thought of was a memory of her captor. Fucking her. Hard.

  This morning's activities vividly filled her, smells, sensations as she re-lived the experience. Fast and deep, Sir's powerful thrusts impaling me with the force of a sledgehammer, the coarse hair of his pubic bone grazing my swollen, hypersensitive clit, and my entire body jerking with each savage thrust. His hard male flesh rubbing against my skin. His chest hair scraping my aching, tender nipples. Sir gripping my breast and hair, pulling them both hard, using them as leverage to increase the impact of each thrust, ramming himself into me with bruising strength. I was sweating and panting and my heart thundered loudly, as wild and unrestrained as a tropical storm. So many sensations! Far too overpowering to register them all.

  Sir slamming into me, again and again and again, picking up speed as he neared his climax. Him continuing to pound me, and then he shifted slightly, hitting that particular spot deep inside. My whole body stiffened and my pussy convulsed as I arched and screamed out loud. Then came the feeling of being hit with a hard blast of sensual bliss. All the ecstasy to be had in the entire world had been centered right THERE.

  Elizabeth was panting now, her pussy pulsing. She had thought that she wouldn’t be able to orgasm, masturbating in front of someone, but apparently that wasn't the case. It was actually pretty hot, knowing that Sir was watching, imagining the hard set of his jaw, his eyes dark, and his pupils dilated with lust. It wouldn’t take much to send her over.

  Sir grabbed her hand, pulling it back from her throbbing flesh. "Good girl," he said, his voice rasping from desire. A warm glow of pleasure suffused her, knowing she had pleased him, that she had made him as hot for her as she was for him. "Elizabeth, you have made me hard as stone just watching you, and now I know how you like to be touched, too. You see how clever I am?" He stood up sudde
nly and sat down on the side of the tub, "Now, on your knees, before me. I want to fuck those large breasts of yours."

  Elizabeth trembled and found she was smiling.

  Because having her breasts fucked sounded absolutely fantastic.

  11. Elizabeth's Pleasure

  Elizabeth spun around on her knees and he guided her between his legs, one hard thigh on each side of her, capturing her and restraining her against him. He took her chin in one hand, and crushed his lips to hers, kissing her, using tongue and teeth and his whole mouth. They kissed for a long time, enjoying and exploring each other while one of his hands reached between her legs and his fingers began to stroke her, exactly as she had stroked herself.

  Wow. Fast learner, she thought. Her hands reached out for him and he took them, holding them tightly by the cuffs.

  "Non mon cher," he said, "Remember, you must ask. You may not touch me without my permission. But for now, do as I say. Hold your breasts out in front of me, raise them and offer them to me for my pleasure, so that I may do as I wish with them."

  The handcuffs should have made it awkward she reasoned, but mental rationales were not part of these sexual games. Cuffed, enslaved, and desperate to please him, Elizabeth fell into the role. She raised her large aching breasts out in front of her.

  "These are for you, Sir," she said.

  His chuckle was sensual and it rolled through her. "Bon. Ah, but first." She heard a click, and once more her butt plug began to vibrate, luckily on low. Elizabeth moaned, and he laughed and pinched both her nipples, hard. She gave a little yelp, but the sensation from the vibrator in her ass, and the pinch of nipples both sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her pussy.

  "Push them together for me, yes, now shake them. I want to see them bounce, they are so large, flushed and engorged with your arousal, they move well, do they not?" She did not expect his tongue on her nipples, and gave a soft cry when his heated mouth and tongue sucked one hard nub and then bit it. The pain felt good. Hell anything he did felt good at this point. His hands caressed them, then his tongue licked, moistening one large nipple and areola area thoroughly.

  "Do you want me to fuck them, Elizabeth? Thrust my stiff cock into them hard and fast?"

  "Hell yes, Sir," she said.

  His laugh always thrilled her, and she imagined him smiling down at her with approval. Why was it so damn important to please him? Stockholm Syndrome, she thought once more. But you know what? She didn't care.

  "That is good, mon cher, because I am going to fuck them. Keep holding them together, I will fuck this wet one now." The sensation was delicious as his hot cock pressed against her, fucking her nipples, pushing deep against her breast, thrusting and ramming against her, again and again. She began to moan and whimper, making odd, inarticulate sounds, writhing with pleasure. He did not tire of this game, until he had fucked both breasts very well indeed. Elizabeth was panting and sweating and her heart pounded. That damn anal plug was sending her mad with uncontrollable lust. That and HIM.

  "Elizabeth, do you want my cock?"

  Her instant answer was "Yes please," but she didn't say it. Instead she smiled, and feeling more relaxed and even playful with him she quipped, "It's what every woman wants, Sir."

  He laughed, and cupped her face for a moment. "Bon. Put your hands on me now, your hands and your mouth. I want you to suck me off. I want to stretch and fill those soft lips."

  His erotic words caused her pussy to clench. She trembled. "Oh, Sir," she said. "Will you please let me come? I swear I am going to explode."

  "No. Not yet," he said. "Please me first, and perhaps. Now, I will tell you what to do." He guided her cuffed hands toward him. "Place them like so, oui, one on the root. Ah yes, such small, delicate fingers. You feel good against me, mon cher."

  The heat radiated from his groin and the heady scent of his male flesh caused her to swallow. His shaft was thick and solid in her hands, and her cuffs clinked against each other, while the vibrator buzzed from where it was seated, deep in her ass.

  "Touch my testicles, oui, squeeze them, just so. You know this part, the perineum? I like for your wet finger to stroke it. Oui, oui. Fuck that feels good." He continued speaking then, directing her in each action with a hoarse voice filled with lust as she sucked and licked him, servicing him with her mouth. She tasted his pre-cum musk and she moaned, her whole body reacting, wanting more.

  Breathing heavily he pulled back, taking deep lungfuls of air. "Again," he said huskily. He took her head between his large hands, and advised her to relax her throat because he intended to fuck her mouth deeply. Elizabeth's arms and shoulders felt his thighs tremble as he thrust into her, pushing her head down on him. Quivering with desire, she struggled to accommodate him and his length and size made her gag – but only for an instant. One hand twisted itself around her braid, using her hair as a handle to control her; he grabbed it roughly for better purchase. The erotic pull of her braid tugging every hair on her head simultaneously worked just like the vibrator - the pulse of erotic pleasure went straight to her pussy.

  "Fuck, mon cher, forgive me. I cannot hold it. I see you blindfolded and on your knees before me, with my toy shoved up your ass. I see you frantic, wanting to please me, worshiping my cock - and it is too much. I must fuck you hard sans finesse. Right now."

  He began thrusting into her mouth in rapid rhythm and he moaned and swore and commanded her to suck him, take him deeper, harder, faster. Her eyes were watering, and there was drool running down her chin. Single focused on his pleasure, she didn't care. He pushed into her right up to his balls, they slapped against her each time he flexed and even that gave her a primal, animal satisfaction. Elizabeth began to hum with pleasure, craving him, craving the song of his release, and the spurt of his cum inside her mouth. Like an animal she wanted him to use her, to rut against her body until he spent his seed.

  "Take it," he gasped, ordering her in a husky, hoarse voice. "Take my cum. I want to shoot it down your throat."

  Then, as his orgasm arrived, Sir rammed into her mouth so hard, pulling her head down upon him, she accidently scored him with her teeth. His cum flooded her, and she swallowed greedily as his thick shaft pulsed and his hot seed jetted again and again in intermittent spurts inside her. As he came he groaned, and grunted and his erotic sounds of climax rang in her ears like sweet music.

  His cum filled her mouth and tongue, choking her and she loved every second because she didn't care – nothing mattered, only pleasing him mattered to her, and oh God she did want to please him. Her mouth continued working, sucking, taking him in, and Sir's fingers convulsed on her skull, pulling her braid. A deep guttural groan tore from his throat as he jetted into her one last time. It was an animal sound of total release and she reveled in it.

  Elizabeth gagged and choked and swallowed, and all she could feel was a massive thrill of satisfaction. The pungent smell of sex perfumed the air, while her butt plug vibrator still hummed merrily away, keeping her pussy dripping. Elizabeth was on the knife edge of orgasm, she had not had a climax of her own – yet she still felt utterly released.

  Holy shit, she thought. How great was that? The overwhelming powerful feel of the man, his desperate sexual need, combined with the heavy tension of his body and thick, pulsing orgasm that seemed to go on and on. Man, oh man, what a thrill.

  Sir sat back on the edge of the tub and in a dreamy buzzing state, Elizabeth, continued to minister to his cock, licking his rounded head and shaft clean, reveling in it. When it began to twitch with overload, becoming too sensitive, Sir grabbed her chin and pushed her away from him. Then he slid into the water, pulling her across his lap, and placing her head on his shoulder and against his neck.

  He leaned back against the tub, still breathing hard.

  Fuck that was satisfying, she thought, working his cock until he shot his load right down my throat. Elizabeth had been tormented for the last hour or more and still hadn't come, but damn! Sucking him off had gone a long way toward appeasing
her own sexual needs.

  Elizabeth almost giggled as she thought of what Sir had said, his philosophy about what woman need and want. He had told her: "Women have strong oral needs, too. A woman's warm wet mouth is another such empty place, mon cher. You showed me how much you loved sucking my cock this morning didn't you? You wanted it as much as I did."

  Well. The man was certainly right about that. Without reaching her own orgasm she still felt a buzzing glow of satisfaction at having sucked him off. A strong memory flashed back to her for a moment, the smell of him; the strong musky taste of his hot seed and the feel of him pounding into her. He had used her hard alright. And wow, just wow.

  Cuddled into him, sitting quietly, she listened to the thick slow pound of his heart, and wondered what this was between them. I don’t love this man, she thought. She smiled. But I've gone way the hell to Kansas and back with lust for him.

  After awhile, he grazed his knuckles down her cheek in that familiar manner. He turned her so her back was to his front. "Close your eyes, mon cher," he said. The sound of Velcro ripping surprised her, and then her blindfold was gone. A soft, warm, wet washcloth bathed her face, wiping his fluids from her lips and the moisture from her eyes – the salty tears she had shed from strain as a result of his powerful thrusts. She wanted to open them.

  Again, as if reading her intention Sir said in his deep, compelling voice, "Keep them shut, mon cher. Later today I remove this blindfold, but keep them shut for now." He untied her braid and combed through her hair with a brush he must have had ready for just this occasion. He took his time, brushing and stroking her hair, sending her into a zone of bliss. Then he gently put supple dark cotton over her eyes once more. It was a fresh blindfold, soft and clean. He attached the Velcro strap, and then swung her back across his lap, tucking her face against his shoulder, and holding her against him once more.