From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Robert Ties Me Up (Mf, bdsm)
Date: 25 Apr 1996 21:19:25 GMT

			  Robert Ties Me Up

	The room is warm, almost too warm. I am slightly damp from
perspiration, and the occasional draft makes me shiver.

	The room is filled with a warm, diffuse light, sunlight
through heavy lace curtains, giving the place an antique feel. The air
smells of potpourri, mingled with red wine and musk.

	My eyes travel lazily along the ceiling, until they reach the
far wall, where a full-length mirror stands across from the foot of
the bed, tilted slightly forward in its heavy oak frame. The image
staring back at me from the mirror commands my attention: a exquisite
brass four-poster bed, and on it a beautiful woman, naked, her arms
stretched tautly over her head, and her legs reaching out toward the
posts at the foot of the bed.

	That's me, with my wrists bound together by that long purple
band of silk. That's me, chest rising and falling more quickly than
usual below tight, shiny skin. That's me, lying there on the new
beautiful bed we shopped for for so long, and bought just for this
purpose. That's me... finally.

	Absorbed as I am in the image of myself, Robert's voice
startles me. "You certainly are a beautiful sight, love." I turn my
attention to him, as he stands by the side of the bed, a glass of wine
in his hand, smiling warmly down at me.

	"Robert, kiss me... " I start to say, but he leans over me,
and presses his finger to my lips, and says "Shhhh. Not a sound." But
he kisses me anyway, lightly, gently, on the lips. He takes a sip of
the wine he is holding, then dips his finger into the glass. With his
wet finger, he traces my lips, then bends over and licks the wine from
my lips. His feather-light touch makes me shiver.

	He continues with the wine, drawing his finger from behind my
ear to the hollow of my throat, then following with his tongue. He
traces a line down between my breasts; the evaporating alcohol is cold
for a moment, but his tongue is warm and soft. Mmmmmmm. I was unaware
that I had actually made a sound, but Robert warns me again,
"Silence... " And so I am silent, eager to please my lover and to make
this moment perfect for both of us.

	A drop of wine on the left nipple, which hardens instantly,
before he licks it off with a mere brush of his tongue. And then the
same to the right nipple. His light, fleeting touch has awakened my
sensitive nipples, and they cry out for more. I arch my back toward
his mouth, but he has already moved on to other places.

	A drop of wine on the soft underside of my arm. A almost-
tickling lick along my navel. A wet trail along the crease where my
thigh meets my body. Each touch a brief spark that awakens and arouses
a new part of my body, just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy.

	He licks a trail of red off of my inner thigh, and I can't
contain my gasp. My whole body feels alive, itching for his touch. I
want him to lick up, up, to move his tongue between my legs, but he's
gone again, standing next to the bed, watching my flushed form on the
bed. I look up at him, pleading with my eyes, Robert, Robert, touch
me...

	"How can I resist those eyes?" he asks, with mock
mournfulness. "You don't really want me finish yet, do you?" My body
cries yes, but at the same time I savor the delicious frustration, and
I know the answer. The question is rhetorical. Robert goes to the
dresser by the bed, and returns with another broad band of soft purple
silk, like the ones that bind my wrists and ankles. This one he drapes
across my eyes, then lifts my head and ties it expertly in place.

	The removal of vision heightens my other senses. I become
aware of the sound of cars in the distance, and the wind in the tree
outside the window. I become aware of the smell of Robert and the
smell of me. I smile and relax, delighting in hypersensitivity of my
body and the feeling of anticipation.

	I am not disappointed. Robert starts touching me again,
returning to the top of my body. He strokes my face with his fingers,
and his touch is firmer now, more demanding, more satisfying. He holds
my hair, grasping it. Holding my head firmly, he kisses me on the
lips, deeply this time; no more fleeting touches, this time his kiss
is filled with passion, and I meet it with my own.

	He breaks the kiss too soon, and leaves me gasping for air.
Now he is rubbing my body with smooth, firm strokes. He rubs my
shoulders, my arms, my sides, my belly. He rubs my breasts, and this
time when I arch toward him, he doesn't pull away. Instead, he holds
them, kneads them. He grasps my nipples between his fingers, first
lightly, but with increasing pressure. A moan escapes my parted lips,
but Robert doesn't seem to mind; instead of a warning, he pinches my
nipples firmly and tugs, and I am suddenly dizzy from the pleasure.

	Forgetting my situation, I reach up to wrap my arms around
him, but the strip of silk holds my hands tightly to the bar between
the posts at the head of the bed. Straining against the bonds
accentuates my frustration and longing, and I moan again.

	Robert continues pulling on my nipples, till they reach a
point just short of pain, and my back is arched as far up as it will
go. Once again, he breaks his hold too quickly, but before I have a
chance to feel disappointed, he replaces his fingers with his mouth on
my left nipple, sucking it in, pressing it between his tongue and
teeth, rolling it around with his tongue.

	My breath is quick and ragged now, as I strain towards him. He
grabs both breasts in his hands, and shifts his mouth to the other
nipple. Oooooh. It feel so good. And then he stops.

	He pauses, just long enough for the frustration to register on
my face, and then he resumes his broad hand strokes on my belly, and
sliding down to my thighs. He draws his hands down the outside of my
legs, to my feet. He rubs each foot with his palms, with just enough
firmness to avoid tickling me. He rubs each toe with his thumb and
draws his fingers along my instep. Then he moves his hands back up my
legs, on the inside this time. His broad, smooth hands stop inches
before where my thighs meet.

	No, don't stop, Robert... keep going... up, up, please. But I
don't have to say anything. He knows how badly I want him to touch me
there, but instead he massages my thighs. Each stroke brings him a
hairs-breadth closer to to my nether lips. I strain against the bands
on my ankles, but they hold my legs apart, making me feel exposed and
ready for his touch.

	He strokes gently the line where my outer labia meet my
thighs. The touch is light and agonizing. And now he leans forward,
and I can feel his warm breath against my clit, stirring the wispy
hair there. He blows against me, and the coolness against the moisture
there makes me jump. I arch toward him, but he still doesn't touch me
inside; he just keeps maddeningly stroking my outer lips.

	He stops. Just as I am about to start begging him to touch me,
he brushes my exposed clit with another one of his quick, fleeting
touches. The touch is an electric shock through my body. It is gone
in an instant, but every muscle in my body tenses in that instant,
straining for his touch. After a moment, my breath returns and my
muscles start to relax, and he touches again, briefly, sending new
waves of pleasure through my taut body. Oh God, how much more of this
can I stand? Please, please, keep going, don't stop, Oh God, don't
stop...

	He stops. Again I start to relax, and this time I feel his
tongue, pushing its way between my folds. Carefully avoiding my clit,
he licks around the foreskin. He gently sucks my labia into his mouth,
rubbing his tongue along the underside. Then the other. Then around
the clit again. Then a quick flick of his tongue across the tip. I
gasp, realizing that I have been holding my breath. Again, the same
electricity courses through my body. Another moan.

	After some more teasing, Robert licks my clit again, this time
firmly. He draws his tongue in circles around the head, and then sucks
it into his mouth, pressing it between his teeth and tongue. Yes,
yes! Holding my clit between his lips, he flicks it with increasing
tempo with his tongue. Then he sucks again, and for a timeless moment
I am held on the brink, as a washing, tingling pleasure starts to
spread from between my legs up my back.

	He stops. The tingling recedes. No, no, don't stop! He lightly
pinches my thighs, and I realize that this time I've actually spoken.
I continue to plead with him, Robert, Robert, don't hold me here,
touch me, touch me... I can't see his face with my make-shift
blindfold on, but I know he is smiling. That's what he was waiting
for.

	With that, he slips a finger inside me, and I start thrusting
eagerly against his hand. His thumb rubs my clit, lightly but with
increasing pressure, as the rate of my thrusting increases. He slips
another finger in, and starts his own thrusting, faster and faster,
pressing against my clit, rubbing it, teasing it. I feel the tingling
sensation start again. Please, Robert, let it happen... and he keeps
thrusting. Suddenly my whole body is awash with pleasure. I see white
light behind my eyelids, and every muscle in my body convulses. My
legs strain against the soft restraints but I have no awareness of
being tied down. For a brief, timeless moment I am floating, my entire
being centered around Robert's thrusting hand.

	And before I land, before my convulsions subside, Robert is on
me, and in me. He thrusts with such ferocity, such passion, that he
keeps me floating. Unbelievably, the pleasure intensifies. The entire
world consists of me and Robert, pounding, thrusting, crying out in
pleasure, floating. I think I scream, but I'm not sure. The aching,
insistent pleasure lasts forever, and I hear Robert's own growling
gasps as he joins me on my exquisite plane of pleasure. Yes, Robert,
Robert, I love you!

	Slowly the pleasure subsides, the convulsions become less
intense and further apart. My body relaxes and I become aware of
Robert's weight lying heavily on top of me, of the ties that still
bind my wrists and ankles. Without getting off me, Robert slips the
blindfold off over my head. As I knew it would be, his own faced is
flushed, his hair in disarray. Still staying in me, he reaches up and
unties the strip of cloth that holds my wrists together, and I bring
them down and wrap my arms tightly around him.

	For a long time we stay that way, my lover's weight against my
body, my arms holding him close. For a long time we lay in our
beautiful new bed, recovering from its first use. Hopefully the first
of many.