Welcome Home Pt. 1 [Mf] [D/s] [Fsub] [bondage] [implied exh]

Emma found it hard to contain her nervous excitement as she made her way to the back of the post office. Excitement — for the contents of the package she was picking up. Nervousness — well, let’s say it wasn’t exactly PG-13. It was a large box, nondescript, and just slightly too heavy for her to carry by herself. She felt a tinge of embarrassment at the thought of asking for the postal worker to help. The twenty-ish year old at the front counter was, however, too baked to notice her stutter. *Lucky me,* Emma thought.

As Emma followed the stoned assistant postmaster, her eyes wandered down his shoulder-length blonde hair and toned back. She found her eyes resting on his tight khakis-bound buttocks. It was only for a split second, before she averted her eyes as an intrusive thought wormed into her mind. *Oh no,* Emma thought as she bit her lower lip.

It was just a flash, but the image was clear as day. *There she was, tightly bound to the chair she bought in the middle of the post office, vibed without recourse and mouth gaping open. This hot piece of ass was sloppily stuffing his cock in her mouth. Behind him, a dozen customers waited to use this dirty slut.* Emma’s heart quickened and she let out a barely audible gasp. She could feel a warm tingle radiate from her pussy. *“Are you wet already? Fuck. Fucking slut.”* she thought to herself.

With a series of quick steps, Emma caught up to the ‘hot piece of ass’ and tapped him on the shoulder. “Uhh, it’s okay, I got it.” She said.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged.

Emma double-timed it to her car with the box in tow. In her mind, one box corner was a worthwhile sacrifice to the concrete gods so she didn’t have to stare at that ass for one second longer. Emma touched herself on the entire drive home. Images of herself in the chair crisscrossed with images of being violently facefucked by cops made Emma’s drive home one of gasps and moans.

At home, the box opened with ease. Emma revelled in the irony of a package containing bondage equipment being so easy to open. The installation was painless. In no time at all, Emma found herself staring at the newest addition to her and Brad’s play set. She was no stranger to toys and bondage furniture, but this one still gave her the tingles. Emma glanced at the purple dildo still suctioned onto the wall, and wished she had sucked on it while assembling the chair.

“It won’t be too long now,” Emma muttered to herself.

Emma found her hands drift down towards her clit, but stopped before she touched herself. She had not forgotten the three rules of the house: (1) she had to be naked at all times, (2) she must greet Sir at the door on her knees when he comes home, and most importantly, (3) she cannot touch or pleasure herself within the house. These rules had no exceptions, and he was very clear about it. Brad, her boyfriend and Sir, controlled Emma’s every movement, pain, and pleasure in the house. She served at his pleasure, and it was her pleasure to serve him.

Outside the house, however, was a totally different matter. Emma was free to touch herself as long as there is a possibility of someone seeing her. She was an exhibition slut after all, and Sir did not have the heart for depriving her of that. During the cruel months of June and July when Emma was denied all pussy and clit contact by Sir, she found solace in the fact she could touch herself in public. But of course, with Sir’s words being so clear and unequivocal, she did not dare.

Emma checked her phone. 4:35 PM. Brad was to be back by five after a business trip, and she had fully intended to surprise him with a good girl bundle. Of course, that means she had less than half an hour to strap herself into the chair.

The chair that stood in front of Emma was a miracle of modern engineering. It was a tall chair, a cross between a barstool and a regular wooden chair. Its mahogany sitting surface had, jutting out, a U-shaped wooden outdent. On there was a hole, roughly neck-sized, along with a hinge and a place to attach a padlock. Below the sitting surface, the chair had two cuffs on each side and a pillory: the former was for her hands, and the latter was where her legs would go. Rounding out the setup was an attachment location for a massager wand. Emma adjusted the clip so that the wand would be pressed tightly against her pussy once she is locked into the setup.

Her pussy lips moistened as she got down to work. First, she texted Sir that the door would be unlocked and she would be waiting for him upstairs in the bedroom. No doubt, she would be punished for not greeting him at the door. She had hoped that once he finds her trussed up and ready to be used, it would all be worth it.

Second, Emma found the most powerful wand they owned. She clipped it onto the intended location on the chair and made sure the cord could reach the nearest power socket, but did not go as far as turning it on. She then found a ring gag to stuff into her mouth with a satisfying click, and a set of nipple clamps with a long chain. At last, Emma found a blindfold and strapped it on her forehead. She would be blindfolded in due time, but not yet.

Taking a few consecutive breaths, Emma readied herself for the chair. Tingles of excitement streamed across her skin as she knelt onto the built in knee pads. Her moist lips made contact with the still wand, and she gasped in pleasure. The wand would not be turned on without Sir, but the anticipation was killing her.

With one swift set of motions, Emma lifted the latch and secured her neck into the sitting surface of the chair. Then, she helped her ankles into the pillory before locking it shut. She re-adjusted the ring gag, moistened her lips with her tongue, and slipped the blindfold over her eyes. Blinded now and trembling with excitement, Emma felt around the chair with her free hands before finding the cuffs.

One more deep breath. Her shaking was almost too much to handle. Though she couldn’t see, Emma imagined her pussy juices soaking the length of the vibrator.

*“This is it,”* she thought to herself, *“two more clicks on these cuffs and I’m totally, truly helpless.”*

Right hand helped to secure the left, and then the right wrist pushed the right spot. *Click. Click.*

Emma knelt in silence. There were no sounds beside her own ragged breathing and the light whirring of the ventilation fans. She tugged on her neck restraint, then both cuffs. The chair would not give an inch.

*“Holy shit. I’m truly fucked.”* Emma gasped. At the thought, she grinded hips and pussy into the still vibrator. God, how she wished it would just turn on at the moment. But, instead of a wand miracle, a goblet of drool quietly rolled down her lips and chin.

Minutes passed in desperate, needy darkness. Emma found her mind wandering. Maybe Brad would cum in her mouth, turn on the vibrator, and leave her there for the whole night. Maybe Brad is stuck on the flight and Emma is stuck there forever, bound and helpless, in the dark with an unlocked door.

*“OMG. The door!”* Emma made an audible, though not intelligible noise. *“Oh, why did I leave the door unlocked. Someone could just open the door and find me… And use me.”* She grinded even harder into the vibe at that thought. A shiver travelled up her spine and it looked as if her whole body convulsed. Emma didn’t think she could be more turned on.

Then, the click of the door handle was followed by the characteristic creak of the hinges. Emma heard Brad, or whoever had come into their house, close the door behind them and take off their shoes. Then, the bathroom tap. Towel rack. Then, at last, Emma found herself straining to listen for the footsteps up the stairs.

*“Is he back? Maybe the steps don’t sound like him,”* Emma wondered. Her mind was racing. *“Sir would have called out to me by now.”*

More silence.

It seemed like hours had passed since the creak of the last floorboard. Emma was still kneeling there at the chair, bound, needy, and helpless. She wondered where Sir had gone, and whether she imagined the whole thing. Maybe a stranger had come in and Emma was about to be savagely mouthfucked with no way out. Maybe Sir was preparing to punish his princess for not greeting him on her knees at the door. *“What would it be this time? The whip? The electric wand? Ugh.”*

Finally, the thoughts had driven Emma to the brink of her sanity, and she couldn’t take it anymore. “UMMhhhhfffff?” She called out through the gag.

Emma felt a large hand as it circled around her gag and covered her gaping mouth.

“Shh, Princess. Let me admire your body a bit longer.”

**A/N: No links allowed on this sub so part 2 is in my profile**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/kvww89/welcome_home_pt_1_mf_ds_fsub_bondage_implied_exh

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