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“Good morning.”
“Why don’t you address me as ‘Sir’ in here?”
“Good morning, Sir,” I correct myself.
Laurence steps up to the bed, looking down at me hungrily. “Good girl. From my understanding, I’m not allowed to touch you until my blind fold goes on. Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I pull against the binds, eagerly waiting for us to start.
Laurence smirks at my clear eagerness and puts the blindfold on. “Then let’s play. Where shall I touch you first, Ten?"
In his repeated question from last night, I realize the point of last night, and what he meant by preparing with me. It was to give him a leg up for what makes me come.
“My nipples,” I tell him. “Gentle, then hard.” I don’t feel like I need to provide more explanation. He figured out the routine last night that made me orgasm impossibly hard once it was mixed with his fingers inside me, and then I realize I’ll have to instruct him to do that, too. The idea causes an ache between my legs.
He reaches out until his fingers graze my torso, and then he traces his fingers up until they reach my corset, which he yanksdown to expose my tits. His thumb moves over my nipple. I tug against my binds, gasping at his touch.
“Mmm,” Laurence hums, cocking his head to the side in that observant way that stirs that deep, desiring place in me. “Is that gentle enough for you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Then he twists my nipples, hard, like he did last night, and I let out a pained moan,
“Yes.” Thesis dragged out as I lose myself in the sensation.
“Let’s explore this proclivity for roughness…” He slaps my tit, harder than last night. The sharp sting sets fire across my skin. The ring that ties me in place clinks against the wood of the bedframe as I tug, hard, on the ropes.
“Touch my pussy,” I beg him breathlessly, needing something to relieve the ache that’s building. “Please.”
“Not yet, Ten,” Laurence says in a firm voice. “I’m not done teasing these.” He starts his work on the other nipple with the routine of stroke, twist, and slap, then he does something that surprises me.
He leans down and licks.
I nearly combust.
“Fuck,” I moan as his tongue teases my nipple, licking away the hurt he’s caused me. Then he bites and I cry out again, back arching against the pain. He pulls back and slaps me. In the mirror, I can see my tits turning red, and it turns me on so much I can feel my wetness begin to seep down between my legs. “Please, touch me,” I beg again.
“Will that make you come?”
“Yes,” I moan, almost pained, too eager to feel his fingers inside me again.
He does one more routine on my nipples with his tongue and teeth. While he sucks on one, he slides a hand between my legsand makes an appreciative hum. He pulls away and makes atsksound. “Poor thing, so wet for me already.”
“Please,” I protest as his fingers slide across my wet folds, teasing me, but not fucking me. I whimper at the unfairness.
“So needy,” Laurence says, slipping one finger inside me and stroking my insides. The feeling is so good I think I’ve lost all ability for thought, until I remember I still have to guide him. He’s still blindfolded and under instruction to not do anything unless I tell him to.
Then I remember we’re supposed to be putting on a show.
“Flip me over,” I tell him. He doesn’t hesitate to withdraw his fingers from inside me and grab my ankles, rotating me in one quick, harsh movement until I’m lying on my stomach. “Call me your good girl.” The endearment always causes a pull deep inside me that inches me closer to the edge of coming, and I desperately want to feel that while his fingers slide inside me.
But Laurence doesn’t obey my command. Instead, I feel his fingers snake into my hair at the nape of my neck. He pulls, yanking my head upward so he can say in my ear, “You’re such a good girl for me, Ten.” The softness of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, but it’s the possessiveness in it that makes me arch my back and spread my legs, wanting to feel him touch me again. “I’m going to make you come so hard. Tell me what you want me to do next.”
“Touch my pussy. Fuck me.Please.”
He releases my hair and rest my face down into the cushion as he moves slowly to the end of the bed where my ass is in the air. I hope whoever’s watching is enjoying the show. Looking into the two-way mirror—which was repaired so quickly it’s like my outburst the other day never happened—I imagine those behind the glass watching, being aroused, and imagine myself meeting their gazes as they watch me be pleasured by another man.
Laurence’s fingers return to my clit, and my breathing becomes labored.
