Date: Mon, 28 Jul 2003 00:36:41 +0100 From: SILENT Subject: permission to come This work remains the property of the author and is a work of fiction (or fantasy ;o) depending on your viewpoint) It deals with themes of bondage, lesbianism, and orgasm denial so if these things offend you, or you are under 21, please do not read any further. However, if you are over 21 and these things turn you on - have fun! Permission to Come I sit here where you left me some half an hour ago, bound to the chair, naked, gagged and blindfolded. The bottom of the blindfold allows a chink of light to filter in, but not enough to see anything by - a mere irritation rather than relief. You have told me that no noise can penetrate this room, but I still strain my ears to catch the slightest sound of your return. Flexing my muscles, I find that you are as good as your word - I cannot release myself from your bonds. A statement that is more symbolic than some may think. My arms are tied behind me at the elbows, with my wrists spread and secured to the sides of the chair. A rope circles my waist and is pulled in tight to the back of the seat, while my knees are kept apart by a spreader bar attached to my ankles and then fastened to the chair legs. About my neck I wear a collar, placed there with love by you, my Mistress, my guardian, my saviour. The collar is black leather and appears plain to the untrained eye, but it is studded on the inside in a pattern that shows your name once removed. A pattern that has required me to adapt my working wardrobe to include high-neck tops. A pattern that is simply not de rigueur at the office! I find myself smiling inwardly at this thought - if only they knew. They always say you should watch the quiet ones. Lost in my thoughts, I fail to hear your arrival. The first I realise of your presence is a sudden, but not unpleasant, sensation across my shoulders. You caress me with what feels like a feather, stroking it down my arm to my wrist before moving back up, across, and down the other arm. I stir my head slightly, trying to guess where you are, a move that results in you grabbing my hair and repositioning my head back to face front. I moan gently at the pressure on my scalp and move again just to feel you tighten your grip. You know I love these games as much as you do. I tremble as, with your hand still in my hair, you pull my head back oh so slowly and lick from collarbone to ear, stopping to nibble gently on my earlobe. Quivering, I whimper as you continue to clutch my hair while you move your free hand to place the feather on my thigh. The touch electrifies my senses and I silently will you to move it upwards to my labia, already moist at the thought. The feather advances languidly, so deliberately slowly it is almost imperceptible. You hear my breath quicken and see my muscles tense. I am trying so hard to control myself, to hold on until you say otherwise, as you have trained me. This is what you require of me and I strive to please you, it is my purpose, my destiny, but you do not make it easy for me sometimes. You know me so well, my responses, my mind. You know I'm close and still you continue, stroking the feather over my clit until I am breathless with desire. My body tightens as I reach the edge and start to tip over. The feather is suddenly removed and I go wild, straining against the ropes, furious with longing. The feeling subsiding, I hear your laughter as you replace the plume between my legs and start teasing me again. "Do you like it my pet? Being tormented like this for my pleasure?" you whisper, close to my ear. I nod my head frantically, oh God I do. "Oh I know how you do. You love being my toy, my plaything don't you my love?" Again I can only nod in reply. "But today we're going to see just how far you can go. I know how hard you find your submission sometimes, and now I want to hear you beg me to let you come. And believe me," you say firmly, "you will plead many times before I let you. How does that sound little one?" I moan in response, coming close again. You continue your treatment a little longer now, before stopping just as suddenly as before. "Uh uh uh, not yet my dear." You mock. "Let's see if we can up the tempo a little shall we?" This time the feather is replaced with a clip you attach to my clit, which sends me into near convulsions of need. You remove the gag so you can hear my screams as the pain hits. You so love to hear as well as watch the torment you inflict on me and stoop to add nipple clamps so you can fully appreciate my shrieks of anguish. Removing my blindfold, you stand back and look me in the face, eyebrows raised, waiting. I cry my need to you, begging you for release, tears of yearning and despair staining my cheeks. "Please Madam, please.," I howl, desperate for relief. "Please what?" you respond, watching me squirm, prolonging the moment. "Please let me come. Please" I sob, "I'll do anything Madam, anything you wish." A smirk plays across your lips at the thought. "Anything, you wanton little bitch?" I look at the floor as I realise what I have said. "Yes Madam, anything." I murmur. "We shall have to see about that later then, shan't we my horny little slut?" you say in a singsong voice. "What are you?" Blushing with humiliation, I whisper my reply, "A slut Madam." "Whose slut?" You know you can push me, know deep down I long to say it. "Yours Madam." You tap your foot in dissatisfaction. "Louder, I didn't quite catch that." I raise my head to look you in the eyes and say with emphasis "I am your slut Madam, your horny little slut, and I will do whatever you wish." You nod your approval, pleased that I have made it to this point faster than you had expected. "Well, you wanton hussy, right now I wish for you to come." And I do, with a passion I have never before encountered, falling back against the chair, exhausted, when I am spent. As my fever dies, you approach me and your arms encircle me from behind, caressing me until I am calm and relaxed enough for you to release the ropes and hold me in your arms where I belong.