By the time we made it to the house, I was practically shaking with excitement. My first encounter with this man was amazing. I loved the way that he had controlled me, the way that he had spoken to me. I could still feel where he had his hand around my throat. It was such a rush, it was so exciting. For a few moments, I had felt helpless, but not in a bad way. Yes, I felt very vulnerable. Yes, I knew that he wasn’t actually going to hurt me. But I knew that if he wanted to, he could have, and that fact gave me butterflies. Part of me, though, was worried. Under normal circumstances, I would never go to a secondary location with a strange man, especially knowing that once we got there, he was going to hurt me. There was a small voice in the back of my mind telling me that this was a bad idea, but I silenced that voice with logic. The agency I had went through owned this house, it’s not like we were going to his personal home. There were security cameras on the outside of the house, and a few panic buttons scattered throughout the interior, just in case something went wrong. This was professional, not personal. As we pulled into the driveway, my paranoia was overridden by exhilaration.
He got out of the car first, and he had held his hand up at me when I reached for my door handle, silently telling me to wait. Within seconds, he was opening my door and offering me his hand to help me out. I stepped out of the car and he moved to the trunk to get our bags. When I offered to carry mine, he had pushed my hand away and told me no. Together, we walked to the front door and he entered a code that unlocked it. The door swung open to reveal a surprisingly modern home, one that I never would have anticipated just from looking at the outside. The floorplan was open and the colors were neutrals, which made the space seem even bigger than it was. On one wall, there was a large TV with a gray couch pointed towards it. On either side of the couch, there was a small but sleek end table. There was no wall between this living area and the kitchen, and I could see a huge marble island and brand new appliances.
Before I could gawk too long at the house, he grabbed my hand and began to lead me towards the hallway. There were four doors, but the one at the very end of the hall stood out. It was painted black, a stark contrast from the lightness of the other surfaces in the hall. He opened a side door and set our bags inside, then turned to face me.
“I want to take this opportunity to remind you that at any point, if you call the safeword, I will stop immediately. If you’re bound, I will untie you, if you are wearing any tools, I will take them off, and then we will figure out where to go from there. Do you understand?” He no longer had the intense, dominating tone that he had used in the car, but he still sounded deadly serious. I thought it was great that he was being so thorough, it helped to ease the part of me that was still nagging about the whole situation.
“I understand,” He nodded, then turned away from me and opened the black door. The room looked like something out of 50 Shades of Grey, and I pushed past him to step inside.
The floor was sleek black stone, and the walls were dark, but I couldn’t tell exactly what color they were because they were bathed in red light coming from above. Over us, there was recessed red lighting that made the room look like the dungeons I had seen online. The tray ceiling had dark beams going horizontally across the room, and as I looked at them closer, I noticed some heavy-duty hooks placed intermittently along the boards. The walls were lined with floating shelves and different types of implements. One wall was full of paddles, riding crops, and floggers, along with a few items I didn’t know. Another had various types of sex toys: vibrators, dildos, butt plugs. Some of the toys were bigger than I had ever seen in real life, and I wondered how people managed to get such large toys inside of them. The wall behind us had different ropes, handcuffs, and other bondage-related items. There were two shelves, though, that had knife displays, and the sight of them made me feel two very different ways; on one hand, they excited me, but they also scared me. There was a bed against the last wall. The large metal frame had loops and hooks in various places, places to restrain people. In the corner by the bed, there was a Saint Andrew’s cross, the first one I had ever seen in real life.
“Undress and get on the bed,” he said from behind me. He sounded the same as he had in the care, authoritative and intimidating. I unzipped my dress and let it fall into a puddle at my feet. I removed my bra and panties, laying them on top of the dress, then began to walk towards the bed. My mind was racing. I wondered what we would start with. I had listed a lot of things to try, and he could choose from any of it. I sat down gently on the side of the bed, then looked up to meet his eyes. His face was unreadable, but I could’ve sworn that I saw hunger in his green eyes, like he couldn’t wait to get started. We held eye contact for only a second before he smirked and turned away. He began to move around the room, scanning the walls.
“Eenie, meenie, miney, mo,” he chanted tauntingly. For some reason, the words made my the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. No matter what he chose, it was going to be something brand new to me, and I was nervous, but I was also growing wetter by the second from the anticipation. Finally, he picked up a blindfold and began walking over to me. I stared up at him as he fastened it around my head, and then all I could see was black. I heard him walk across the room again, and this time I was even more anxious about what he was doing. I didn’t even know which wall he was at, I was completely unprepared for whatever he chose to use first.
I heard tapping, and it took me a few seconds to realize that he was touching the items on the walls. I recognized the sound of him tapping on wood and realized that he was at the paddles. He was doing this to draw out my wait, to make me nervous, and it was working. Fear began to rise up in my chest, but as I listened to him move around the room, touching different toys, arousal took its place. I thought about what it would feel like when he spanked me with all the different implements. I knew that it would hurt, but how much? I had done some research before agreeing to this, and I had learned that there were stingy and thuddy toys. I wondered which I would like more, or if I would like it at all. I liked watching it in porn, so I was pretty sure that I would like it in real life, too.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of leather slapping against skin. Did he just smack himself? Then I heard it again, but it sounded different. Then again. Finally, I realized that he was using different items, but I wasn’t sure if it was to prolong my wait even more or for another reason. No matter the reason, it was only building the anticipation and by the time the smacking had stopped, I was sure that I had left a wet spot on the bed. I heard his footsteps move towards me, and I could feel his presence as he got closer, until he reached the edge of the bed and pressed himself against my dangling legs. He grabbed my chin firmly and tilted my head up towards him. His lips brushed against mine, just barely out of reach. I tried to stretch my neck so that I could kiss him, but was met with a hand around my throat. I gasped, surprised at the sudden lack of oxygen, and I could feel my face getting red within seconds. He held me for just a few seconds longer, then released me, pushing me backwards as he did.
“Lay on your belly in the middle of the bed,” he ordered. I did as he said, scooting backwards until I reached what I assumed was about the middle of the bed. “Put your hands over your head.” I did. He put his hand back onto my shoulder and ran the tips of his fingers down my arm, all the way to my own fingertips, the gentle touch sending chills throughout my entire body. Once he reached the end of my hand, he began wrapping a coarse, scratchy cord around my wrists, binding them together, then tying them to the headboard of the bed. “Spread your legs.” I did. I felt his weight move down to the end of the bed, running his fingertips over my back, my backside, down my legs. By the time he reached my feet, I was covered in goosebumps and was trembling in anticipation. He wrapped the same scratchy cord around each of my ankles, binding them to each side of the footboard, keeping my legs spread almost as far as they could go. When he was done tying my ankles, I felt him get off the bed entirely, but I could still feel his eyes on me. I felt vulnerable and exposed, I was vulnerable and exposed. I was at this man’s mercy, he had permission to do almost anything to me, outside of a few hard limits that I had made very clear in the early stages of our negotiations.
I don’t know how long I laid there, my bare ass on display, until I finally felt him move beside me again, but this time, he did not climb onto the bed. Instead, I felt the sensation of something touching my ankle, right above the rope. The object stayed there for just a moment, before moving up my leg, stopping just before it reached my bottom, then moving to the other leg and doing the same thing. The object was two or three inches long, thin, and had a leather-like feel to it. As it reached the bottom of my ass the second time, he suddenly brought it up from my skin and smacked it onto one of my cheeks. The sting was intense, making me tense up as he brought it down in the same spot again. And again. I could feel the skin reddening underneath the tool, the stinginess making tears try to well up in my eyes. I pushed them back down and took a deep breath as he moved to the other cheek, bringing it down again and again. I buried my face into the silky sheets to stifle my whimpers of pain. Finally, he stopped and I heard him set the tool down and climb onto the bed between my legs.
“That was a riding crop. What did you think,” he asked as he began rubbing where he had hit. His touch soothed the hurt a little bit, but the kisses that he began placing all over my stinging skin soothed it more.
“I didn’t like that very much,” I said, being completely honest with him. “The first few hits were good, but after that, it started hurting a lot.”
“So you don’t like stingy, good to know,” he muttered against my skin. He continued kissing all over, working his way inward, toward my center. Once he had kissed everywhere that he was hit, he raised back up onto his knees and wrapped his hands around my hips. He pulled them back toward him, raising my ass in the air and pulling all of the ropes that were attached to me as tight as they could go. “Don’t move,” he whispered, and I nodded in response. He started kissing again, this time the backs of my thighs, working his way up. He moved up and around to the inside of my thighs and continued moving up, but avoiding where I really wanted him. The teasing was making me wetter and wetter, the anticipation driving me crazy. I tried to reposition myself, trying to lower myself to meet his mouth, but I received a hard slap on my still hurting ass, spreading fire across the tender flesh. I felt him straighten up again and push my hips back down, flattening me out again before he got off the bed entirely.
“I told you not to move,” he said, his voice dark and intimidating. I debated on how I should respond, should I feign innocence and say that I didn’t mean to, or should I go straight to apologizing? I decided to go with the latter.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” I started. “It just felt so good, I got caught up in it.”
“I don’t care,” he barked, walking to the other side of the bed. “I told you not to move, and you didn’t listen. You were so impatient that you just couldn’t wait.” I felt him get closer and closer, until his hot breath touched my ear as he began to whisper. “Are you just that needy, baby? You just couldn’t wait? Did you need my mouth on your pretty little pussy that badly?” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I knew they were probably bright red. His words made me feel differently than I ever had, and before I could even think about how to respond, I was nodding my head. He chuckled and stood up, starting to walk around the room again. “Now,” I could hear the smile as he spoke. “I get to punish you.”
He returned a few moments later, stopping and standing beside the bed again. I began to brace myself, ready for more stinging pain. Instead, the tool that he brought down onto my ass was heavy, and I could feel the pain from it deep in my body, in my muscles. It was rectangular, wide enough to cover a lot of area, and it felt wooden. It was a paddle, that wasn’t hard to figure out. A gasp escaped me, and embarrassment filled me for a moment before another smack landed on me, harder than the first. Seconds later, another hit. Then another. Each strike was harder than the last, and I could feel the blows all the way into the muscle. To my surprise, with each hit, the heat between my legs grew and grew, until I was writhing against the bed, desperately trying to get any kind of stimulation. I imagined how I would look afterwards, my ass black and blue, and the metal image turned me on even more. I don’t know how many times he hit me, I stopped counting after 20. When he was finally done, though, I heard the thud of him putting the paddle down. He climbed back on the bed, between my legs again, and began rubbing the sore places of my ass. I wondered if it was already starting to bruise, or if I was going to have to wait to see the marks.
“Was that any better,” he asked. He had a mocking undertone to his voice, as if he was making fun of me for not liking the riding crop.
“Yes Sir,” I answered. “I liked that a lot better.”
“I’m glad. Do you want a reward for taking your punishment so well?”
“Yes please.” My mind raced with what my reward could be. I hoped that he was going to finish what he started earlier and go down on me. I just knew that he would be amazing, and in the moment, I wanted nothing more than to feel his tongue inside of me.
Without another word, he got off of the bed and I heard him move across the room and begin moving stuff around. Slight disappointment washed over me, but was quickly replaced with curiosity. I had no idea which area of the room he was in, so I was clueless on what he might be getting. I didn’t know which of his tools he might consider to be a reward, despite racking my brain. After a couple of minutes, he returned to his spot between my legs, raising my hips again. He ran his fingers along my pussy, dipping his fingers into me, and quickly removing them. The action was just enough to make me need more, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to not push my hips back onto him. I felt him moving between my legs, repositioning himself. Within seconds, I felt his mouth on my thighs again, and it became even more difficult to stay still. I knew that I would be in even more trouble if I moved again, but he was moving so, so slowly, I could barely stand it. It felt like an eternity before he finally reached my pussy, and between him hitting me and the anticipation of his mouth on me, I was dripping by the time he did. He ran his tongue over my wet slit once, and then suddenly pulled away and straightened up. Disappointment overcame me again, this time mixed with confusion. That was my reward? More teasing? As I tried to rationalize what he had done, I felt a hard, cold object pushing against my entrance. As he pushed it into me, I heard a click, and the object responded. The vibrations resonated inside of me, instantly starting to build an orgasm within me. A few seconds passed before he pressed another cold object against me, this one against my clit. He turned the vibrator on, and soon found a setting that made me feel like I was on fire.
He set the vibrator where it would stay against my clit, and he moved up the bed. His fingers wrapped around my throat again and he leaned in until his mouth was against my ear. “You’re going to cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his words pushing me even closer to orgasm. “Over and over and over.” He chuckled as he spoke the last words, his amusement clear. He brushed his lips against my ear, the sensation pushing me over the edge. I exploded against the vibrators, bucking my hips, trying to get away from the vibrations. I was so sensitive that the vibrations hurt, but in a good way. My body was still trying to get some relief, just a few seconds to recover, but it was pointless. I was stuck in the position I was in, and he wasn’t going to move them. He wanted them to stay exactly where they were, exactly where they would make me cum for him, over and over and over.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1207lva/the_arrangement_pt_2_mf_30s_impact_overstimulation