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.