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She cups my cheek, her thumb caressing my jaw back and forth as she presses a kiss to my lips.
“Such a good girl. Now, what’s your safe word?”
I consider it. I wonder if I think about it too long, but when I look at her, she’s patiently waiting.
Finally I say, “Galaxy.”
Her face brightens as I see the realization cross her expression that I chose the word because of her. Her name means stars and her Domme name means Moon, so why not galaxy?
“Are you sure, pet?”
I nod. “I’m sure, Mistress.”
“Very good. Are you ready to get started?”
“I’m more than ready, Mistress.”
No more is exchanged as she begins winding the different colored ropes around my ankles, securing them together with intricate knots that form diamond shapes. Her breathing is slow and deep, so I match her.
“That’s so good, my beautiful little hummingbird. Keep breathing with me.”
Her touch is firm, and each time her hand slides upward, even over my clothes, I can feel my panties getting damper. What this woman does to me is unlike anything I could’ve dreamed. Right now, it feels like it can’t be real, but if it’s not, I hope I never wake up.
When she reaches the apex of my thighs, she presses her palm down directly over my aching clit, and my breath catches on a moan.
“Don’t forget to breathe.” She reminds me unable to hide her own stilted breathing.
I concentrate on my breaths even as her hand presses up and down on my clit just enough to rev my desire, but not nearly enough to make me come, and it’s pure torture. The kind you never want to end. But of course, all good things must come to an end. Yet, the way she looks at me, like I’m hers and she’s considering her options, it’s all forgotten.
“You’re so pretty, I could look at you all day, everyday. And seeing you in my ropes, it’s all I can do not to strip you bare and worship every inch of you.”
I’m panting, but I can’t help it. this is what she does to me.
“Breathe, pet.”
She sits back on her haunches, and together, we learn how to breathe. Once she’s sure I won’t stray, she crosses my arms over the top of my head, elongating my upper frame and making my little tits arch upward, closer to the sky. Her hands move slowly over my ribs, just firm enough not to tickle, and I keep my breathing steady even as she moves closer to my breasts. But when her palm glides over one turgid nipple, I can’t help but gasp and groan, arching further.
She ignores me while she plumps my boob with one hand and pinches the nipple with the other. I squeeze my trapped legs together helping my pleasure minutely. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel her hand between my thighs. For now, I settle for her hands on my chest as she squeezes torturous delight from me.
Keeping my breast plumped, she begins winding the rope around it. “Breathe, baby.”
I suck in a gasp but slow it down when she stops. She only begins again once it’s more even. I keep it up until she lets go, and I feel the intense pressure as the rope digs into the skin around the base of boob.
She smirks. “Imagine if you were naked.”
I wish I were, but more so, I wish she was.
I suffer through the same delicious torment on the other breast before she moves up my arms. I giggle when she caresses my armpit that’s bared as my t-shirt rides up my shoulder. Then, I gasp and snap my head down to find her licking said armpit.
She moans. “Mmm, you taste better than I fantasized.” Holy shit! She fantasized about me?
She does it again, and I moan with her.
Who fucking knew that would feel so erotic?
She continues until sweat beads my hairline, and I’m practically sobbing with need. Only then does she move on, and I understand how someone can be sadistic without being violent.
Once I’m completely tied up, she sits back to admire her handy work, her eyes drooping with desire.
