His palms pressed my inner thighs apart so they were spread, revealing the most intimate parts of my body before I felt the bindings on my wrist attached to the ones on my ankles. I was efficiently restrained and at his mercy.
“Is that uncomfortable in any way?” he asked, moving back to kneel next to my chest.
“No, sir.”
“Good.” I felt him reach off the bed for something before his hands pulled my hair from underneath me. “Lift your head, I am going to put the headphones on now. I am also going to place a small ball in your hand — if you feel like you need to stop at any time, drop it or use your voice, but I want you to have another method since you will be quite… overwhelmed.”
“Understood, sir.” I didn’t really, but I knew I would shortly. He pressed a ball that was about the size of a walnut into my right palm and closed my hand around it. It was small enough I could hold it but not so small I’d forget it was there, which I assumed was the point.
He slid heavy headphones over my ears before helping me rest my head back against the pillow. It was a bit awkward with the thick circle over my ear as it pressed into the soft pillow, but I found the pillow adjusted around it to still comfortably support my head.
The song playing was one with a heavy beat and futuristic sounds. It was easy to get lost in and after a moment I had nearly forgotten where I was except for the fact that my arms and legs were immobile.
Closing my eyes, I realized I may as well have been blindfolded because I had no desire to keep my eyes open. All I could see was directly next to the bed and from the shift of the mattress, John was more toward the foot. Something slowly wrapped around one leg, then the other before wrapping around each arm.
John’s hand slid up my back until he could grasp my hair, and thus lift my head. My eyes opened immediately as I gasped. His face was in my view and he had a strand of pearls in his hand. It was then I knew exactly what was wrapped around me. It was pearls. He’d surrounded me with the precious stones.
Releasing my hair, he carefully threaded the strand he’d held under me to wrap it around my neck in addition to the one I already wore. Except he didn’t leave it like a necklace; no, instead he trailed the two long ends down my back before I felt them being pressed between my crack.
His palm came down on one side of my ass and I clenched my cheeks together. A soft pat on the sore cheek let me know that was exactly what he’d wanted. It was getting hard to focus on what he was doing or anticipate what would be next since the music was pulsing through my ears, my blood pounding in time to it. The pearls added to the feeling of restraint from the bindings on my wrists and ankles. Then there were the pearls around my neck, just tight enough that if I clenched my cheeks hard enough, they dug into my throat.
A sharp, pricking sensation ran down the bottom of one foot from the tip of my big toe to my heel. I squirmed from it. It hurt, but not so much I couldn’t handle it. When it disappeared, I expected it on the opposite foot, but the spines of the Wartenburg wheel wandered over the inside of my thigh. When I jumped again, John’s hand landed on my ass sharply. I cried out. He didn’t want me to move and I knew it, but couldn’t help it when I had no idea where he’d move to next.
Reaching the apex of my thighs, the pricks disappeared. He wasn’t pressing hard enough to pierce the skin, which I knew he could, but hard enough I knew I’d have little impressions left behind for a while.
Long moments passed without a touch of any kind and I relaxed, calming my breathing. The spines returned to my other foot and I bit down on my lip so I didn’t squirm. Each time a point pushed against my skin, I felt a pulse within my pussy answering with its own cry of need. The pain moved to my unused thigh and the higher it climbed the closer I drew to a building orgasm. I couldn’t get off from it, but I could get damn close. The sharp spikes of pain made me want to writhe, made me want to beg, but I did neither.
The fun was just starting and I wanted to keep from begging as long as I possibly could. This was a test to show John I could take everything he wanted to give me. I could be all he needed. I knew it deep in my heart and I wanted to make sure he knew it as well.
John gripped the side of my panties and yanked on them. The elastic stretched, drawing them up into my slit painfully before I felt them tear under the force he exerted on them. I squirmed until I felt his chest press against my thighs and he tugged on the other side, tearing the rest of them from me. Relief. The damp fabric had rubbed abrasively against my tender flesh.
I jumped when I felt something cold press against my heated skin. John’s fingers slid along the outside of my pussy lips, never touching where I needed him. I was glad I’d made time to get waxed earlier in the week so I knew it was as smooth as it could be for him.
His touch disappeared, only to be replaced with something else, something foreign. The item seemed to loosely cup my entire pussy at once and a moment later I knew why. It was a pump. It sucked my clit and pussy lips up into it, sensitizing them further. While I’d never experienced one before, I had done research and knew what to expect — or so I thought.
The pump’s grip on me grew tighter and tighter and I moaned as it became almost too much, then it stopped. I could feel all the blood in my body rushing toward that single point, enlarging it slightly. Just when I thought the pressure was subsiding, it sucked me up again and again, pushing me toward the fine edge of pain, and then — nothing.
John ran kisses down the exposed skin between the strands of pearls on my thighs and when he reached my core, all pressure seized as he released me from the pump. Blood pounded in my clit as my arousal reached an entirely new level I’d never known before.
His lips took my clit into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it, making me whimper while clenching my hand tighter around the ball in my hand. It was the only part of my body I seemed able to control or do anything about. The only thing left to ground me from the multitude of stimulations bombarding me at once.
The air smelled strongly of the scent that always seemed to accompany John’s presence. The music was dull in my ears as I concentrated on what was going on between my thighs. My eyes were closed tightly, not needing anything to distract my mind from the pleasure being rained upon me.
As quickly as his mouth had latched onto me, it was gone. In its place was the pump. I lost track of how many times he switched between his mouth and the plumping instrument. All I knew was I was incredibly sensitive and being held on the brink of an orgasm the entire time, but he always made sure to stop just short of me falling into bliss. Finally I couldn’t handle any more.
“Please, sir, I can’t.. I can’t take any more. I’m too sensitive,” I gasped, barely able to form the words through the haze in my brain.
I felt the bed shift as he moved next to me and I saw the pump being set on the table in my eyeline. Yes, he wanted me to see what he was using on me, reminding me of it even as he moved on to something else.
When the sharp points of the Wartenburg wheel returned, I screamed. He ran them over my pussy lips gently at first, but I was so tender he might as well have broken skin with them. The longer he ran them up one side then down the other, the harder he pushed on them. It was only when I feared he’d make me bleed that I dropped the ball from my hand.
I was floating and unable to make my lips form any words, except for moans. Instantly the points were gone and a cool cream was being spread over where it’d tormented me. The headphones were removed next and it was a shock to be plunged into the peacefulness of the room after such a long time hearing nothing but my own breathing, heartbeat and the same song on repeat.
“How are you doing, Precious?” John asked, running his fingers over my cheek.