The Bondage Mistress - By Mike Holt

She usually liked it a bit rough. But not all the time. Just after things started getting steamy she would crave a man to her deepest depths. But very few men were able to satisfy her craving. They were too tender, too romantic, or too rough. There didn’t seem to be any in-between.

Finally, she met a man who was almost everything she wanted; an Adonis, a brain that excited her to perdition, a manner both kind and gentle, yet occasionally mean and nasty. He was unfathomable.

But it wasn’t enough for her. She craved more.

More what, she didn’t know. All she knew was she wanted more, more, more!

Only one way to get it. Force him to the floor and walk all over him. Make him react. Deride him. Debauch him. Denude him of all that he thought he was.

How?

What could she do to capture that magic moment?

She’d already pissed on him in a fit of ecstasy as she rode him like the stallion her father had when she was a young girl obsessed with its huge organ. How she had loved to stand and watch as the stallion grew rampant. She was afraid to touch it, yet she longed to try.

It was the same with this man. She knew she could take their love to new heights. But she was afraid she would scare him off.

Then one day she came home after visiting the doctor to find him talking to her best friend. That’s all. Just talking. But they were sitting so close together that she scented more than she saw.

What were they doing before she arrived?

Was he looking guilty?

She couldn’t be sure.

It didn’t matter. She had her suspicion. She nurtured it. She stroked it into a bright flame, letting her imagination lead her where she didn’t really want to go.

She tried, oh yes she tried, not to go there. No use. She was hypnotized. Dazzled. Lusting for the pain, the humiliation.

Not for her.

For him.

She plotted in the dark night while he snored softly. Yes, she thought, why not?

On the phone to her best friend, she hinted at a treat. Would she come over and help her have some fun? Would she like to experiment at something she’d never tried before?

Intrigued, her friend agreed.

“Come tonight at 10. Not before. I want it nice and dark for this surprise.”

Ten it was. Right on the stroke there was a soft knock at the door. She opened it. Her friend stood there, her face questioning but looking excited too.

Come in, she said as she beckoned her friend in. The living room was dark, lit by perhaps a dozen candles scattered around the furniture. Fantastic shadows leaped across the walls and ceiling as the two women moved to the lounge and sat down comfortably.

Her best friend looked at her, a question in her eyes.

“Wait,” she said. She handed her friend a glass of wine, then raised her own glass in a silent toast.

They drank.

She put a finger to her lips. Don’t make a sound she mimed. The wine, the silence and the dark conspired to create a mood that was tantalizingly erotic, yet scary as well. Her best friend didn’t know, yet, what to expect.

She shivered in anticipation.

She stood, stretched languidly, and slowly removed her clothes. Her friend watched, mesmerized, unsure of what to expect.

Next, she picked up some pieces of rope she had draped over a chair in the shadows. She pointed at her friend and gestured to her to undress too.

Her friend joined the spirit of the game and undressed slowly, tantalizing her with slow, sensual movements.

She watched as her friend removed her outer clothes one by one. She ached to step forward to help her with her bra and see-through panties. But she controlled her urge.

Both naked, they stood facing each other, the candle-lit faces shifting in the flickering light.

She poured another wine and gestured.

Follow me.

She led the way to the bedroom. Her man lay stretched out on his back, the way he always slept. A soft snore escaped his sensuous lips. She’d been drawn to him by those lips when they first met. She had ached to kiss them, to feel their fire drawing him into his breath. When their lips finally met she wasn't disappointed. Nor was he.

But tonight he looked quiet, peaceful, yet powerful in his inertness. He always slept deeply, so she knew they could do what she planned without fear of waking him up until the time was right.

She showed her friend what she wanted to do.

They tied his arms and legs gently, moving his limbs carefully so as not to wake him. She checked the knots when they were finished to make sure he could not escape.

A minute later he was tied firmly to the bed.

He stirred but didn’t awake. He felt no threat in his sleep….yet. A slight smile touched his lips as he slept on.

She beckoned to her friend to bestride her man’s stomach, pushing her friend down so that her soft bush lay on his muscled stomach like a warm, sucking, soft-haired octopus.

Her friend sat there, unsure what to do next.

She moved behind her and sat beside her man. Picking up his flaccid organ she put it in her mouth. It was still soft enough that she engulfed the whole thing, like an overripe banana that no longer held its shape.

Then using her tongue she stroked gently, enjoying the feeling in her mouth as she enticed his cock to attention.

He murmured as the pleasure seeped through his sleep-sodden brain, coaxing him gently awake. When she felt him stir she stopped and moved up behind her friend to peer down into his eyes, holding his manhood in her hand. She smiled. His peered out of sleepy slits first, then whipped his eyes wide open as he took in the situation.

He tried to move. But there was no slack in his bonds.

She saw a moment of panic in his eyes as he realized he couldn’t move. His eyes fastened on hers, questioning.

She shushed him with a finger to her moist lips.

Don’t make a sound, shaking her head, she said silently.

He lay there, wondering what was coming next. Would this end badly? Had she found out about his dalliance with her best friend? Surely not, or she would not have invited her friend to join in this strange game.

But what if she had found out? Was this her revenge? But what sort of revenge was it, if it was? The mystery was exciting.

He lay still and watched, his eyes flicking from her face to her best friend’s pert breasts.

Both women were breathing heavily.

She grasped her friend’s hand and placed it on his cock, helping her friend grasp and stroke, their two hands working in unison.

He hardened instantly. She pushed her friend up his body until her soft pubes were just brushing his chin.

He breathed in her scent, her pheromones urging him on to more excitement. He became harder still.

She licked his chest, nipping his nipples gently, drawing a spot of blood as she broke the skin.

He groaned.

Her friend lifted herself up and placed her wet vulva over his waiting mouth. He started moving his tongue slowly, questing, fanning the flames of her friend’s lust as she moved down his body, her tongue flicking in and out, making his skin rise in goosebumps as he writhed against the restraints.

Her friend was groaning softly, her hips thrusting up against his nose and then down across his chin as his tongue flicked and teased her.

He was finding it hard to breathe as she pressed down on him. He fought for breath, but there was no respite. She was enjoying the intensity of her feelings too much to worry about his.

Finally, his woman reached the center of all his pleasure, licking, nipping lightly. The pleasure and the pain melded.

She nipped hard once, breaking the skin. A small pearl of blood appeared, exciting her even more. She sank onto his shaft, feeling him writhe in pleasurable agony.

She moved slowly at first as she felt the delicious stalk move up inside her, filling her as it quested deep inside. She increased the pace until they were both groaning in unison, in ecstasy.

Then they gasped loudly as they came together. His breath coming in short spurts, mimicking his orgasm.

She sank down, feeling him start to go limp after he had spent himself inside her. She squeezed her muscles, not allowing him to escape that easily.

Finally, she let him go as she toppled over on her side, while his flaccid member fell out of her to lie defeated on his leg.

But she wasn’t finished with him yet. She sat up and leaned over him again.

The woman continued. She nipped the skin on his shaft again, bringing yet another small pearl of blood forth. She smiled, satisfied as she beckoned her best friend down to join her as they bent down to worship at his member.

Then she turned her friend around to face his feet and helped position him as her friend sank down onto him. He had become a little soft, so she had to tuck him inside her friend and encourage him to rigidity again. She stroked his scrotum, scratched his shaft gently, and murmured filthy encouragement in his ear.

Moments later she felt him harden again. She smiled in anticipation.

She changed position to squat next to his chest, her legs wide open so that he could see the apex of her thighs clearly, teasing him. Her hands caressed his body, teasing him, fluttering over his nipples, gently touching the area behind his ears.

He kept his eyes riveted on her labia, dripping with passion for him. He was quivering, groaning, the sensory overload starting to short-circuit his brain.

The two women worked on him for hours, never letting him escape. They were insatiable, as only a woman in heat can be. The bed sheets were soaked from their combined efforts. But the women didn’t care. They were totally focused on maintaining their mounting orgasms until they shuddered with their ultimate pleasure. Screams of delight mixed with his grunts of pleasure and pain. There was no respite.

Finally, the women stopped, gazing blank-eyed at each other, totally sated. Their victim lay there sobbing, unable to move, drained, wrung dry. He’d lost count of the orgasms; his and theirs.

She took her best friend’s hand and led her out of the bedroom. They sat in the lounge room sipping a deep red satisfying wine. Not saying a word. There was no need. Her friend was enjoying the game as much as she was, never suspecting that she knew what her friend and her husband and been doing behind her back.

They smiled languidly at each other, waiting for the man to come to his senses. Then they would resume their assault again. He wouldn’t last the night, would he?

But then, it didn’t matter, did it? She had mixed their blood well tonight. The doctor had warned her that the disease was passed easily if blood was present. Her revenge on them both would be long and slow, and deadly...but filled with incalculable pleasure as well.