You look at yourself in the mirror. The collar and bindings make it difficult to look anywhere else. I don’t want you trying to look away, even for a second. I want you to drink up the beauty of your bound body.
it’s an art work of control. Ropes bind your ankles to the mahogany legs, before snaking up the frame to lock your back against the upper of the chair. your hands have been bound in front of you, forcing you to push your perky tits together with your upper arms, like an unintentional attempt to impress me with their size.
The stiff leather collar finishes the look, clipped to the chair top to further restrain you. there’s no escape. I even bait you to struggle as I watch over you, but it’s no use. your movements are useless, doing nothing more than leaving purple kisses from the rope burn as you fight against your bonds. you’re my trapped little toy.
I introduce a toy. The vibrator first teases to your clit before being slid inside you. despite your best intentions, being so vulnerable to me has left your clean shaven pussy wet and eager to be played with.
I’ve set up random remote patterns, controlled from my phone. on and off it goes, never sustained enough to have you come anywhere close to orgasm, merely hinting at its future potential.
Not yet, my horny little toy.
I look at your cute little breasts, squeezed out thanks to the rope and your arms. they wait there ready to be fondled , flogged, teased. I dream about training you to share them with all, to be my little tease, but for now I’ll appreciate them in my private viewing.
I let my eyes meet with yours. they share a moment, but our eyes have written nothing short of an essay. the fear, the trust, the frustration, the lust, they all shine through. of course you could have said this outloud, had your panties not been shoved into his mouth to gag you. the obstruction enforces the need to be calm; you are at the whim of the oxygen it limits, unable to do more than create a muffled response. It’s a master’s bliss.
You’ve been a good girl lately, haven’t you? You’ve been following all your rules. You edge yourself for me, and you’ve slowly converted to the training to only play in front of the mirror and edge while admiring yourself in it. it felt like a punishment to start, but overtime you’ve gone from closed eyes to dressing yourself up in your pretty lingerie to appreciate the challenge.
Yes, you have been a good girl.
I change the vibrator to stay on the lowest setting. No more turning on and off.
“Now I’m going to count down from 10 to 1. On each count, I will turn the vibrator speed up slightly.”
10.
“After I reach 1 I will tell you to cum. with the edging, the conditioning, the training and the teasing, it shouldn’t be hard to abide. You will not cum before I tell you to. No matter how hard it is, you will hold your orgasm back. You cannot cum unless I command it.”
9
8
7
6
You’ve truly grown to appreciate orgasm denial. you savor the control, sublimation of your will to mine. there’s a weird joy in denying yourself pleasure with the goal of pleasing me. It makes you feel like a good girl. It makes you feel like you are serving me well.
5
4
3
2
1
“You have my permission”
full power toy, arched back and straining against the rope, friction burns that only add to the rush.
I turn the vibrator off and once more appricate my art, the glow from the orgasm that just washed over you, your impulse to admire it to in the mirror.
“Relax. That’s it. You did very well. and those who do well will be treated.”
I untie you, stroke your hair, moisturize where the rope rubbed and eventually pull you towards the bed for your reward.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/lell3u/all_tied_up_mdomfsubbondageorgasm_denial