She had always wanted to do it, and after searching for a place where it could be performed, she was finally able to. She had heard that it was hard to suffer through, that it was only for those who wanted to torture themselves, but she was too curious to know what it was like. She got wet just thinking about being at someone's mercy, at the slow build that she would have no control over. So when she walked into the dim room she felt excited, and when she saw the man waiting for her with his hands clasped in front of him she felt a flutter. He was striking, and it made her falter in her steps, if only for a moment. It would make the experience all the better.
She stopped beside the bed and the man gave her a curt nod in greeting before speaking, "If you're ready to begin, please remove your clothes."
She blushed profusely. If he hadn't been so good looking maybe she wouldn't be as shy. But she had expected this. So she calmly removed her clothes, simply piling them up onto the floor. She tried to act casual, naked before him. He didn't seem fazed in the least, probably having seen it so many times that he'd grown bored. This was simply his job.
He gestured to the bed, "Please. Sit on the bed, knees bent."
She nodded and climbed onto the bed, her knees bent and her hands holding her up. He gave another nod before grabbing the roll of cloth he had set on a table beside him. Without saying anything he took the end and placed it on the side of one ankle, then he wrapped it around both ankles and slowly wound it upwards, tight but not too tight, binding her legs together.
Her heart began to beat in heightened excitement at the feeling of already being rendered immobile. It felt both daunting and comforting to be bound so tight, to where she couldn't separate her legs. And she knew it would be even more thrilling once it covered her whole body.
Once he got to her knees he straightened out her legs and continued up to the top of her thighs. He clipped the second end to the place where it landed so that the cloth wouldn't unravel. Then he told her, "Keep your elbows to your sides, straighten your arms."
She did as she was told and he took another roll from the table. Just above her pubic hair he began to wrap her arms to her upper body until it reached her shoulders. He carefully laid her down and she attempted to spread her legs and move her arms, but she couldn't. She grinned, it was tight and satisfying. Just what she had wanted.
She didn't know what would happen, how it would start; she was anxious, but she had an idea. She had planned on getting off, consented to him touching her, so when he slid his hand down over her breast she closed her eyes and her body sparked with adrenaline. She could breathe, but it was tight on her chest, and it made her heaving a bit difficult. He continued to slide his hand up and down her body, warming her up, wordlessly. She didn't mind that he didn't talk, it was sort of arousing in itself, not knowing what he was about to do, a sexy stoicism and domination.
She hummed in satisfaction at the touch, though she couldn't feel it on her skin. It was already driving her crazy. Her arms prickled and her stomach flexed and it all felt so binding and she felt helpless when his hand wandered lower, teasing at the soft hair that was exposed. A shiver wracked her and she made a quiet whimper. She opened her eyes to see that he was looking at his ministrations, not at her, and part of her wished his eyes would meet hers. But he was simply being professional. Eye contact would be too intimate.
Finally his fingertips slid even lower, gliding over her clit and she gasped lightly, her body wanting to twitch but it was subtle. His middle finger slipped into the slit between her tightly bound legs and she couldn't help but to moan when he moved it up and down. He began to make sure there was contact against her clit as he touched her, his expression serious and focused.
It was torturous how slowly he was touching her and she bit her lip, tilting her head back and groaning in pleasure-filled frustration. She wanted to spread her legs, to coax him to enter her, but she couldn't move one bit. Her legs shook but it was painfully impossible to move. And when he flicked at her clit she wanted to cry, wanted to squirm and move, but, again, she couldn't. Nothing could describe how awful it was not to be able to writhe in pleasure, the pressure and desire to building up within her to an unbearable extent. She whimpered more, but tried to keep her mouth shut, to not beg.
Suddenly his fingers were gone and she felt cold dread, wanting them back. She needed more, was already so wet and growing impossibly stimulated. She watched as he slowly began to walk around her, staring at her body, but not at her. She wondered if they were done, but she knew they weren't. But she needed more now, needed to wiggle and let out her pent-up energy.
Once he made a full circle around her he placed a fingertip on her clit and began to circle it, slow at first and then building to a faster manipulation. She felt the need to arch her back, her body making an attempt, but it hurt. She groaned in agony as he slipped his finger down again to gather her wetness and slick it over her clit, circling it quickly again. Then his finger left yet again and she gave a whimpering cry. She craved to touch herself, to finish it herself, her hand making an attempt to reach herself, but there was no way it would reach. She gave up and cried, "Please. Oh my god. Please."
It was then that he looked into her eyes before placing his finger back and assaulting her even more vigorously. Tears slipped down her face as she whimpered, "Fuck, oh god..."
Her body couldn't stop trying to move, her legs fighting against the fabric, her arms trying to break free, she was going crazy. But this was what she had expected, it just wasn't something she could have fully imagined until she was actually experiencing it. It was maddening, painful, and so frustrating that it was unbelievably arousing. To be at the mercy of another, to have movement taken from her, to feel the build of stimulation that came from being bound so tight that she had to remain idle.
Finally she was close, so close that she called out when he once again stopped his ministrations. He ran his hand along her body again, looking into her eyes, "You're close."
"Yes..." she cried urgently, "Yes..." then she uttered a broken, "Please..."
He smirked then and continued to attack her clit with harsh circles until she was moaning loudly and soon enough she came, but there was no convulsing, no room for the orgasm to wrack her body, and that in itself made her insides feel like they were on fire with frustration. But it was so hard, so good; so intense, that she was left with a wet face from how hard she was crying.
The man did nothing to soothe her and instead began to unwrap her legs. She began to calm herself, reveling in the fact that it had been better than she had thought, despite the agony. It had felt so thrilling, and she was simply being emotional. Then he sat her up and undid the bindings around her upper body and soon she was left shaking violently on the table.
"Take a moment," the man said nonchalantly before leaving the room. She took deep breaths, willing the quaking to stop. When she began to come down from the high she let it sink in that she had actually done it. That it was over. She didn't think she would ever do it again, but it was an experience she would never forget.
