The Game (Part 1)

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The Game (Part 1)One thing you have to know: he loves me. And I love him. Love has led us into an arrangement of mutual satisfaction, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.He is never rough unless he knows I need it, nor crude. He would never hurt me, and I trust him completely. I am his for whatever purpose he needs, because he is the only man who has ever truly understood the desire, the craving, the hunger in me that’s never truly satisfied.He keeps me in a bra and pantyhose most of the time, barefoot for the most part, but when I’m restrained and standing I must be wearing high heels. My hands are always bound. Always. If I need assistance, I must anadolu yakası escort call the woman he’s hired as a live-in “attendant” if he happens to be out of the house.Tonight I’m on the couch, sitting on my knees, my ankles bound to my thighs. My arms are folded behind me, wrists tied together with two big belts wrapped around my chest and stomach. Pantyhose only this time. He’s kept the bra off so he can use the nipple clamps. I’m blindfolded. The ball gag rests around my neck, unused, but I dare not speak until I’m given permission.The crotch rope is tighter than usual this evening, and every time ataşehir escort I move just a little it sends a charge through me. He’s attached it to the rings on the nipple clamps, adding to the stimulation. My nipples are especially sensitive, and I’m able to have an orgasm through that alone. He’s aware of this, and as he sits doing whatever it is he’s doing at the moment, he tugs indiscriminately, absentmindedly on the rope he’s tied to the crotch rope.I flex and push against the restraints, moaning and sighing. I feel it building all over as I thrust my breasts in his direction, hoping he’ll squeeze them or lick my nipples, ümraniye escort but no. He ignores me. I begin to whimper just a bit, truly frustrated.”Please, touch me!” I shout, realizing that I’ve spoken without permission. I stop moving (as much as I can through all the heavy breathing) and bow my head.”I’m sorry, Sir!” I gasp.”Whoa, can’t have that, can we?” He said, as he put the ball gag in my mouth and pulled it tight at the buckle. I had his undivided attention now, and he began rubbing, squeezing, kissing. He traced circles around my nipples with his tongue as he slipped a finger down my pantyhose and gently rubbed my clit, giving it a few hard taps. I shuddered with each one. I was right on the brink, right where he wanted me to be.”That’s enough for now,” he said.This is The Game.He keeps me constantly stimulated, and so close to release that I can taste it. I try to get there before he stops. But however it goes, he is always in control. This is my hunger.I must be owned.

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