Chapter 1 - Call 1
“Hello, this is Mistress Demi.”
Somehow, the voice combined silky sweetness with a hint of command. Paul thought he might be projecting just a little, but he also felt a connection. Five words in the ether had more gravity than whole conversations in person.
“Good morning, Mistress Demi. This is Paul,” he said. He couldn't believe he was nervous. Talking to people, selling to people, he did that for a living, and he was good at it.
“What naughtiness are you up to this morning, Paul?”
“Um, bondage. And orgasm.”
“Yours or mine?” she asked. Moments of silence filled the connection. She chuckled, and miles away Paul shivered. Before he could finally answer, she said, “I love first timers. You are a first timer, right? Not a perpetually shy and nervous little boy?”
“First timer, Mistress.”
“You studied my site and not just my photos?” she asked.
“I studied your site, and I studied your photos!” He wanted to gush. He rolled his eyes, wondering if she could hear that too. He was not some teenage boy on a date with a cheerleader who had impossibly said yes to him.
“Good. Then you know what I like, what is okay, and what is a no-no? If I quiz you while you are bound and at my mercy, you won't disappoint me.” Paul shivered again, hearing the absence of a question in the exchange.
“I won't disappoint you,” he said.
“Then let's begin. Tell me in more detail what your fantasy is today.”
“I have a pile of rope, cut to various lengths, on the floor next to me. The rope is soft, braided nylon. I'm reasonably young, I'm fit, and very flexible. Restrain me. Tease me. Mess with my head until I come. I will match whatever you do to me as best I can while still leaving myself a way to get free. I have safety outs planned and in place,” Paul said.
“Mmm, I can't tell whether you're challenging me or volunteering to be my BDSM show and tell,” she said. “For the purpose of your fantasy today, what are your limits? I want to keep you in a good head space.”
He hesitated as he looked at the clock, which was ticking off the minutes he had purchased with a pre-paid credit card, but he saw her point. He tried to be comprehensive without being detailed. “Really just bondage. Maybe light stuff like spanking, grabbing, pinching. Just me and you. No other people. No penetration. No scary stuff like cutting or burning-”
“I think I get the picture,” she interrupted. He could hear the smile in the light tone of her voice. “A newbie exploration with a very happy ending. Let's get this party started.”
Paul shivered as she began talking him into position.
Chapter 2 - Call 5
“You want to do what?” Mistress Demi said.
“I got the headset you recommended. I'm not getting myself stuck. I've got several emergency releases in place, and I'll be on the floor, so it's not like I'm going to fall off the bed,” Paul replied. “So yes, I want to do a hogtie.”
“Okay. Do you want me to pretend like I'm there, or guide you from here?”
“Guide me from there, but tell me what you'd do, as if you found me like this?” Paul didn't mean to sound so tentative, but it was only their fifth call. He still didn't know exactly what to do. “Oh! Hang on a sec,” he said as he snapped two photos and sent them to her. He had a dedicated prepaid phone just for contacting Demi.
“I can do that. I think this will be fun. Ah. There's your text. I see there's no shortage of rope today, and a belt. And you drew out a diagram of today's scheme for getting your wrists connected to your ankles? You're the most detailed and deep bondage scene friend I have. I wish you'd share some photos or stream with me, but I understand your caution. Let me know when you're ready to begin.” A few moments of soft noise followed her direction.
“Ready,” he said. “I think.” There was a quiet moment. He inhaled, and squirmed on the old blanket covering the floor. He started binding his ankles without her direction, trying to save a little time because of the extra work he’d made for himself this session.
“Sit down on the floor next to your pile. Let’s see how many short lengths you- Ah, I see you covered the floor with something. Are you planning to make a mess?” She didn't wait for him to speak. “Ankles first. Short rope, but at least six neat loops. You know how I like them. Don't forget to thread the lines through the steel ring, which won’t be enough to cinch your ankles properly, so do the Klaw cinch we did two calls ago.”
“Done,” he answered quickly.
“Good boy. You’re getting faster. Now below the knees and above them. Same cinch.”
The conversation lapsed for a moment as Paul focused on getting his legs tied. He knew Demi didn’t like dead air, but before he could speak, she said, “You could send me a pic of your bound legs. I promise not to share it or post it on my site, tempting as it would be.”
“No thanks, Mistress,” he said.
“Those are not words I like to hear, especially from a submissive bondage toy like you, Paul,” she said. Her voice insisted on obedience, one part stern and one part seductive. He wavered momentarily. “You already told me there are no scars or tattoos on your legs. A photo with just that blanket, or are those beach towels, under your legs will hardly be identifying.”
He didn’t answer, in part because he was busy binding, but also because he knew nothing he said would stop her from prodding, and he would much rather hear her creativity than listen to his own voice. Without needing to thread rope through a ring, the tie proceeded quickly. Six loops of neatly stacked coils around his legs below his knees, cinched by crossing the ropes underneath his legs and turning them at right angles to the coils, then looping the ends around the coils before tying them together. He finished the knot behind his knees. He hadn’t prepared random short lengths. He had measured out the ropes last night to ensure he didn’t have a lot of excess rope flopping around. He heard an annoyed chuff of breath before she continued.
“Of course, a nice pair of stockings and a pair of closed-toe heels would disguise your legs well enough to conceal your identity from anyone. We’ll be extra careful to avoid stray reflections or any other forensic detail that might give away your game. I’ll help you with the sizes to avoid any amateur mistakes.”
Paul picked up the next coil of rope, shivering at the sensation of the cool, smooth nylon sliding between his fingers as he started looping the rope around his legs above his knees. For a moment, he considered Demi’s proposition. Would the rope feel even more exciting if he was winding around nylon-covered legs? He pushed the thought away and focused on the real rope in his hands.
“No thanks, Mistress Demi,” he said again. “Mistress, I finished this step,” he added, wondering how much harder she’d press for photos and dress up games. Her requests were a nice way to screw with his head while he wasn’t talking, but he couldn’t tell if he was pissing her off with his always polite refusals.
“Now for the adventuresome part,” she said. “Tell me your plan again. Feel free to send more photos of the set up.”
He noted the absence of further special requests, and again hoped she was okay with just messing with his head and not annoyed with him. “I’ve got the pre-tied coil dialed in to the right tightness. The rope is threaded through the closed loop part of a quick clip. Behind my back, I put my hands into the coil from opposite directions, then a half twist as I straighten my arms behind my back.”
“How do you get your wrists and ankles together? More importantly, how do you get loose when we are done?” Mistress Demi asked.
“I’m trying something new with the belt. It’s going around my waist like a normal belt, but I’m going to tie a short piece of rope from my ankle loops to the belt to take some of the tension out of folding my legs behind me.”
“There’s no way your ankles are stacking over your waist. A few months ago, you said ‘young’ and ‘flexible’ but not extremely long legged,” she said.
“You’re right. Good memory,” he was impressed she remembered their first conversation. “There’ll be an angle, but I think it will help. I’ll be lying on the floor, close to the couch. I’ll get my hands down to my ankles, even with the rope to the belt, I might have to press my legs against the couch. I’ll push the quick clip onto the ring and presto, ankles and wrists connected.”
“And,” she said, again making the question into a direct statement.
“And then the fun begins. Also, if I can reach it, I might untie the waist rope so I can get the full effect. What will you do with me?”
“I’ve got that part well under control. I hope you can come from just the sound of my voice, because I’m not allowing you to orgasm any other way. But what I really want to know is how are you getting free,” she said.
“On my side, I’ll press my legs against the wall or couch and that should give me enough slack to reach the thumb lever on the quick clip. If that doesn’t work, I might be able to loosen the ankle cinch. And if that doesn’t work there are two pairs of shears and two sharp knives on the floor that I can reach with a little worming and scooching,” he said. “I really am very flexible, Mistress Demi.”
“You better be, my slave, because once I have you securely in hand, there’s no telling how I might use you. Proceed.”
As Paul maneuvered into position, he noticed the silence on their connection and wondered if Mistress was letting him stew. He scooted as close to the couch as he could while still having enough room to roll and fold. He stared at the set-up for a moment, planning in his head. After tying the short rope to his ankle loops, he buckled the old leather belt around his waist.
The quiet was starting to unnerve him, but he kept his mouth shut and leaned back, lying on the floor, turning onto his side, and folding his legs back. He quickly tied the short length of rope to attach his ankle bonds to the belt around his waist. Then, he fit his hands through his pre-tied wrist coil, passing them through the coil from opposite directions. With a half twist, the coil tightened around his wrists and his elbows moved closer together, but nowhere near touching.
“Okay, Mistress. The moment of truth, I guess.”
“Mmm,” she hummed. “You have no idea how many moments of truth are waiting. I look forward to the mental image you’re about to paint for me, my sweet rope bunny boy.” His cock twitched at her words and he suddenly wondered how long he would last. He focused on the business at hand. Still on his side, he scooted again, pressing the tops of his feet against the couch. He hadn’t practiced this part, and was surprised by the amount of leverage he gained. As planned, he gripped the quick clip with one hand. He fiddled with it for a few seconds, then got it positioned properly.
All it took was a mild push and the clip clicked onto the steel ring encircling the coils around his ankles. He rolled onto his front, his body weight pressing his throbbing erection against the floor.
“And just like that, the rope slut is all tied up. One teeny, tiny click that I bet you didn’t think I’d even hear,” Mistress Demi said, practically purring. “Loosen that rope between your ankles and your waist. As you said, get the complete experience.”
Paul scrambled to loosen the rope as ordered and immediately felt the tension as legs tried to unfold. He gasped, a small sound, but enough the sensitive headset transmitted his reaction to his mistress.
“Ooh. I think you now know that ‘full effect’ you were hoping for. There’s another thing you should know, my toy. You invited me into your house when you wanted to know what I’d do when I found you.”
Paul inhaled sharply, his heart suddenly pounding. His mouth dried up before he could say a word.
“If you listen closely, you’ll hear my footsteps. I took my shoes off to quiet the sound,” she said. He listened, and for a moment he thought he heard the tiniest whisper of someone treading on his carpeted floor. The moment absorbed him completely before he realized he was alone, except for the distant voice that expertly played him. He also realized he had no idea how to respond, but he had to say something to help keep the story going.
“Where are you?” he said, urgency in his voice.
“I’m here, Paul. Deciding just what I’ll do with your helpless, bound body. The first thing I need to decide is if I want you to see me yet.” There was a rustling sound, and again he shivered, still feeling as though she might be in the room with him. “Keep facing the floor. I’ll just drop this silk scarf over the back of your head. There we go. It’s not quite opaque, so if you must look, you’ll only see my shadow. Don’t be afraid, Paul. You are completely safe with me.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” he said, struggling to get his voice to work. His own frenetic mind combined with her soft words to amplify the fantasy. He imagined gossamer fabric draping over his head and touching his shoulders and bare back. He squeezed his eyelids together to keep from spoiling the illusion.
“I think I’ll do something novel,” she whispered. “I’m rolling you onto your side. You might be less helpless that way, but I’ll have access to so many more fun places to tease.” She hummed as though in concentration, then said. “You feel my hands, one on your shoulder and one on your hip, pulling, rolling you onto your side. I’m just a shadow to your silk covered eyes, but you see me lie down on the floor beside you.”
Paul was certain he’d somehow feel her hands on his naked, bound body, and he was almost surprised by their absence. Keeping his eyes closed, and wishing he’d thought of a blindfold, he rolled onto his side in time to hear her next words.
“I only have the two hands, well, and a mouth, which is all I think you should get today. And I want to tease you so hard. Speaking of hard, are you hard right now?”
“Yes, Mistress Demi,” he said. “Oh!” The exclamation escaped as his body shivered in its restraints.
“Ooh, yourself. Are you that close to coming?”
“Yes, Mistress. I don’t think it would take much now.”
“I see,” she said softly. “Then I have a proposal, one that gives you a choice in what happens next. All other details will be in my control. Understand?”
“Yes, Mistress Demi.”
“Excellent. Your choice is fast and gratifying or slow and possibly torturous. You have ten seconds to choose,” she said. Paul was momentarily clueless, but then he figured fast would mean coming soon and then the call would be over. To pad out the time to his full prepaid amount, she might listen and chat as he extricated himself. He wanted the call to last.
“Slow, Mistress.” Her soft laugh reminded him of a wind chime.
“Four seconds. Such a good slave. For the rest of this session, call me Demi. After all, I’m the woman lying next to you, wrapping her hand around your stiff cock while the other hand strokes and touches wherever it feels like. I touch your cheek through the silk covering it. And I squeeze your cock tightly and stroke slowly, up to the head, down toward the base, up to the head, and down again in a slow, steady rhythm. One finger on my other hand traces a path from your cheek, over and behind your ear, then down the side of your neck.”
Another involuntary shudder rattled Paul. Demi must have heard it, though he’d have sworn there had been no sound.
“Mmm, there you go again, like a little earthquake belonging just to me. I think it’s time. You feel me move, my shadow slides down and my face is at chest level. My tongue flicks one of those hard nipples, just once, letting you know it’s there. My grip on your twitching cock is light now, and the strokes are quick. I want you to come. I want you to come now. Do you want to come, my good slave?”
“Yes, Demi!” He was close. His eyes went from shut to squeezed tightly shut, and his hips thrust forward, flexing his already bent spine.
“Come for me. Come on me now!”
He did, picturing the silhouette of her reclined body. His cum jetted out in four intense spurts, and he imagined them splattering Demi’s belly and breasts. He pictured her naked, as she appeared in one of the photos on her site. Now with his load dripping and running slowly down her lightly tan skin.
“Mmm. That sounded like fun. I’ll bet you made a huge mess. Close your eyes if they aren’t closed already. Tell me, where did you picture making that mess?”
“On your naked skin. Your breasts. Your stomach.”
“Good. Hold that image in your mind, because now the torture starts. Some of your cum has dribbled onto my hand. I should make you lick it off of my skin, but this time I’ll just wipe my hand on your naked chest. There, hardly enough to leave a smear. Did your cock go soft, my toy?”
“Yes, Demi. It feels like it. I could look?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m sure you know your own body. You hear a little rustling and rattling as you lie quietly next to me. I’ve reached my hand past my head to somewhere you couldn’t see even if your eyes weren’t covered by my scarf. When I bring my hand back, it grips your soft, pliable cock again. And by grips, I mean traps. Engulfs. My hand covers your soft, wet dick, and my fingers wrap around your balls, nails lightly digging into your skin. Nothing can swell up now. You like restraint, so how does that make you feel?”
Paul felt a moment of confusion. How did he feel within the context of a fantasy, or how did he feel about a woman having such a scary grip on him while he was helpless to resist. The moment passed and he let the fantasy reign.
“That’s terrifying. And hot. I have to trust you. I’m scared to trust you, but you said I am safe with you.”
“You are safe with me. And you can trust me, Paul,” she said, adding particular emphasis to his name. He shivered. The way she said his name aroused him more than all the pet names and expressions she used to assert her dominance.
“Thank you, Demi,” he said softly.
“Oh, you will thank me. But now, you must use all your imagination, combined with your situation. That is, if you want to come again like I want you to, bound on the floor, nothing but your imagination and our fantasies to make you come. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” he said. The word sounded like it took all his breath and will to say out loud.
“I need both my hands for the rest of our time together, next to each other” Demi said immediately after his answer, picking up the plot of the call. “I keep one hand on you, and my other hand slips something over your cock. You feel your balls tugged a bit, one at a time, and realize you are wearing a ring now. My hand stays over your cock, stopping it from swelling even though I can feel your excitement.”
Paul’s mind was once again struggling with the two realities Demi presented. One where she was just a distant voice and the whole experience was theater of the mind, and the other where she was next to him, doing things to his body.
“I-I-,” he started. Then he let his imagination run wild, accepting her words as reality. “What are you doing to me, Mistress?” Paul inhaled sharply as he spoke.
“I’m restraining you, Paul. You feel something tight and unyielding replace my hand, pushed onto your cock. There’s a click, and just like that, your cock is my prisoner. My pet. My slave. You can come again. You will come again, but to have your precious release, you must be locked. Held tightly, as if by my hands.” He heard a tiny jingle. “There are the keys. Do you feel your cock trying to swell? Do you feel it stopped, gripped by a warm black plastic cage with a tiny brass lock?”
Paul did feel it, and again his mind struggled with the sensation. He was completely hard now, maybe harder than just a few minutes ago when hot jets of cum had spewed from him. He was also trapped. He could feel a warm plastic cage locked onto the ring around the base of his cock, entrapping him.
“Yes, Demi.” he finally answered.
“I’ll bet no one’s ever locked you in chastity before?”
“No. No one.”
“Not even you? It seems a natural move with your bondage fetish.”
“Not even me, Demi.”
“I cup your balls with one hand and pinch a nipple with the other, gauging your reaction. Now that I have you fully restrained, I am lying beside you again, and you can feel the heat of my body as my breath ruffles the scarf over your eyes. I’m just a shadow, but you know me, and you know I am here with you.”
Paul’s body and brain lurched into overdrive. The teasing continued. The touching continued. She stroked him everywhere she could reach. Light touches and firm. Soft fingertips and sharp fingernails. At one point, she inched her body lower against his, tracing her tongue down his neck while her hand explored his legs and ass. She nipped playfully at his neck with her teeth.
She moved again, lower. Her hand stayed busy on his ass, pinching, squeezing, even slapping, while her other hand toyed with his hair. Then she put her mouth over his nipple.
“Mm, that’s a hard little button. Maybe I should bite it, just a little. Like this,” she said. Paul was certain if he opened his eyes he’d see the top of her head. He couldn’t help but gasp.
“So sensitive. Mine are hard too. I’m excited to have such power over you, Paul, and my nipples are showing it too. I brush my breasts against your belly. Mm, I think I can reach your chastised cock, and flick my nipple back and forth against the tip of your cage. Are things heating up down here?”
“Yes,” he whispered. His mind was somewhere else now, or maybe it had broken apart and was in many places at once. He knew for sure he was lying on his floor, alone, in bondage. He knew for sure a beautiful dominant woman was lying next to him, teasing him. He absolutely knew a certain voice was teasing and tormenting him into an ecstatic sexual frenzy. Somehow, all those things, and maybe more, were simultaneously true.
Demi’s voice dropped, edging huskier, “I move again, sitting up now, near your face. My legs are spread in a very unladylike pose, a wide vee. Your submission and your predicament are exciting me a little. Your nose might notice.”
He twitched at the thought, his whole body jerking and straining at his bondage as though he might break free by brute strength. She either heard the movement or had extraordinary intuition.
“Are you getting restless, my toy? Which are you trying to break free from first, the ropes or the cage? Let me squeeze that cage and see how much strain you’re putting on it. As long as I’m leaning over you like this- Oops. Did my breasts just crush against your shoulder? Your heat is warming up the whole room now. And now my hair is trailing along your skin as I reach down to grip that caged cock. How hard do you think you’d be if you weren’t encased in plastic?”
The images flooding his brain made forming a coherent thought difficult, he was about to answer with his actual state, then thought he should answer the question posed. “I’d be harder than I was for the first orgasm,” he finally managed. “I’m pressed against the plastic, my skin and even flesh pushing through the gaps. I know I just came, but I think I’m already leaking.”
He took a deep breath, making sure Demi could hear it, then thrashed and flexed his bound limbs to add some sound effects.
“It sounds like you’re feeling that full effect you wanted, Paul. I want you to remember how you feel right now, all the details. I want to hear all about it sometime. But now, I lean forward. You feel my legs on either side of your folded body. My hands explore you. Reaching past the red silk still covering your head, I touch your neck. Soft strokes, feeling the tension in your body. It’s everywhere. You must be so close. Fingers roaming over your arms and sides, feeling the ropes binding you so tightly. Feeling the strain in your body. Are you getting close, Paul?” she whispered.
Paul heard the words, the question, but sensation was overwhelming him. His mind struggled to get traction. “Yes, Demi.”
“I should be glad you are so well restrained, my slave. What might happen to me if you broke free right now,” she whispered, not making it a question. “Our bodies are nearly entwined. You’ve been so good in our calls, so generous with your body, with your mouth. But your poor cock, always so neglected. Just coming into thin air, assuming it gets to come at all. If you flexed, everything at once and burst free, what would happen?”
Paul’s thoughts had struggled to the surface only for Demi to introduce another stream of fantasy, and one where he had to choose. What did she want, he thought, then realized that was the wrong question.
“I shake myself loose of the wreckage, wrap my arms around you and pull us together. My cock slides against you, between your legs, searching.”
“I’m so wet. You feel the heat and wetness against your skin,” she breathed out the words. “And I feel your heat. It’s burning me.”
“I find the hottest, wettest spot between your legs and grip your shoulders tight, and then push-”
“Oh! Yes, push. Oh yes!” she gasped as she spoke. Paul breathed and thrashed, making sure the noise could be heard over their connection. “Yes! Fuck me, Paul! Fill me.” She timed it perfectly, her voice hitting a crescendo of moans and pleas just as his cock erupted with his second orgasm of the session.
A minute or so of quiet breathing followed. Paul remained silent, turning his attention to extricating himself and waiting for Mistress Demi to re-open the conversation.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Drained. Amazed. Mind blown.”
“Good,” she said, and he imagined a smile at the other end of their connection. “I wasn’t sure which way you’d jump, but I wanted you to have the choices and make the calls. You’ve been so much fun, and I wondered if you wanted to expand the playground a little.”
“I don’t know any other words to describe it. Amazing. That turnabout was wild and I wasn’t sure what to do. Then I realized there were no wrong choices. Thanks for letting me jump on top.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said. “Now, how are you getting out of those ropes?”
“Are you staying on the line?”
“If you think you can get loose in fifteen minutes or less. I have another call coming up. If you aren’t free by then, I’ll call back in two hours and hope you answer. After that, I’m not sure what I could do. Is there someone I can call that you trust to get you loose?”
“I’ll be out in a few minutes. Do you mind if I keep talking?” he said. He was really asking if she was charging him for the extra time, but he didn’t want to sound like a cheap jerk.
“Talk away. I have some latitude about counting minutes. Aftercare is free today.”
“That’s sweet of you.” He smiled broadly, even though she couldn’t see it. “I’m scooching backward toward the couch. I’m so wrung out. I’m not even trying to get loose without some mechanical advantage.”
“I suppose you know not to rub the rope marks?” she asked.
“I seem to recall hearing that recently. Who knows me well enough to render such advice, I wonder,” he said as he grunted softly with the effort of positioning himself. “Dammit. The couch moved when I pushed against it. It didn’t move before.”
Another oomph sound followed and Demi heard a click. “And now I’m not folded anymore. We’re good.”
“Seriously? Your hands are tied behind your back. That’s not a trivial issue,” she said.
“I’ve done this part before. I’ve already taken the half twist back. There’s no cinch rope, so this shouldn’t be too hard.” She listened to some soft muttering and a sound she wasn’t sure about. “And my hands are out. The rest is gravy.”
“Send me a picture of your wrists,” she said. “Or just one wrist. I guess it’d be a little tough to take a picture of them both.” A moment passed. “Please,” she added.
“On the way,” he said. Her phone chirped before she could say thanks. She studied the single photo, his left hand and wrist. Red marks encircled his flesh diagonally across his left wrist from the base of his thumb to the bony knob on the pinky side. She noticed no ring or tan line on his ring finger.
“Thanks, Paul. I look forward to hearing from you again.”
“Thank you, Demi. That was hot and so much fun. I’m taking a nap as soon as I untie my legs. Have a great weekend.”
“Bye,” she said and the call ended.
Chapter 3 - Call 7
“Hello Mistress Demi,” Paul said.
“Hello yourself, Paul. So glad to hear your voice on this cold winter morning. Let’s heat up our world for a while.”
“That sounds wonderful, Mistress. I have something in mind already if you are agreeable.” He was feeling a little adventurous, and maybe too confident, but after the successful hogtie, and then an extremely hot and scary spreadeagle on his bed, he believed his well-thought-out scenarios were technically sound.
“Okay, this time. But next time, I think I could lay out a scene that will totally rock, if you’re in the right mood,” she said.
Paul wondered what she was up to. In the last call, she hadn’t pushed him at all for pictures, or streaming, or to even fantasize about wearing or doing certain things. Instead, she had ‘discovered’ him already bound to the bed. That scene had been crazy hot, he recalled fondly.
A strange woman walking into his hotel room to discover him, thanks to the desk clerk giving her the wrong room and key. Instead of shrieking in horror or turning red and racing back out, Mistress Demi had turned around, shutting and locking the door to their imagined play space. After a long day of meetings, she had shed her professional business attire to reveal gartered stockings supported by a bustier.
He returned his mind to the present. “I’m sure I’ll be in the right mood for you, Mistress.”
“Maybe you’ll submit further to me then,” she said. “You know how I like to stir the pot, don’t you?”
“I also know you play nice with me,” he said, his reminder to Demi not to push too hard.
She laughed, a lovely tinkling sound that matched the winter day. “I play nice until you let me play harder. One day, Paul. When you feel safe exploring with me, I’ll be ready to guide you, dom you, and even serve you.”
He shivered. The way she combined her dominance with her business’s need for satisfied customers amazed him. She served his desires perfectly, yet could have him begging for that service as if he were helpless and at her mercy.
“I am thinking a chair tie today, but with some new wrinkles,” he said. “I found big packs of vet wrap being discontinued at a local store.”
“Discontinued vet wrap. What could go wrong?” She laughed.
“Ha ha, I know. I also picked up four pairs of those nice EMT style safety shears. And I did test a roll of the wrap. It performed as advertised.” There was a stretch of silence.
“Hmm, Paul, those big packages of vet wrap often come in a variety of colors. Were you going to leave that detail out, or did you actually get all black or all tan?” Demi asked.
Busted, Paul thought. “Multi-colored,” he said, prompting her to laugh even harder.
“Pink?”
“Yes, Mistress Demi. Three of the rolls are pink.”
“You wicked man. You were going to just lead me on, binding yourself in boring black, or even worse, extra-boring tan.”
“Yes, Mistress. That is exactly what I was going to do,” Paul admitted. The silence stretched even longer.
“I appreciate your honesty. Since you were so honest about your planned lie of omission, I must assume you will be equally honest when I tell you I want the pink wrap today. With any other slave, I would insist on a photo, and you are welcome to send me one of each leg, but I know you’ll find an excuse to demur,” she said archly. Her voice carried an air of disappointment, a powerful tone of command, and a challenge to him.
He thought about how a photo might be taken that contained no identifiable features. He also knew he was being manipulated, but he didn’t mind. It was part of the game. Plus, his trust and respect for her authenticity had grown, as well as the notion that he was a steady customer and she probably didn’t want to fuck that up.
“I think it would be possible to send a photo of each leg, ankle and lower shin wrapped to the chair leg, without revealing anything... proprietary,” he said.
He heard her exhale and imagined she shivered at the exertion of her power over him. Then she surprised him. “Thank you for your trust, Paul. I value it greatly. Now, tell me about your plan today. All the details and safety accommodations.”
“I have a kitchen chair with a tall back. I’ll vet wrap my lower legs to the outside of the chair legs. Seated, of course, with my back snugged up to the chair back. I might tie my hips or waist to the chair- “
“Might? Have you done a chair tie to yourself before?” she asked.
“Yes, but with rope and not exactly as I plan to do today,” he said.
“Naked, I assume? Just asking to get a good mental picture on my end,” she laughed her wintery laugh again. “Also, is the chair all smooth and polished wood? You should find a nice vibrator or other toy to sit on.”
“The chair is smooth, and I will consider your suggestions for future use. I plan to use leather cuffs on my wrists and draw them closer together behind the chair with a long zip tie between the rings. The zip tie will be closed by a weight lowered slowly from the counter behind me.”
“How are you lowering a weight off the counter?” she asked.
“I’ve got another chair set up behind me; it’s the pulley. There’s a rope running to the weight, and another one going through the horizontal slats that make the back of the chair. I pull the weight off the counter with one rope and hold onto it with the other to keep it from just crashing into the pillows on the floor. As the weight drops, it pulls the zip tie and that draws my wrists closer together.”
“Clear as mud,” she said. “I’m guessing you thoroughly tested this, right?”
“I have tested the elements, but I haven’t tied myself completely yet. Also, I’ve got safety shears tied by string near the back legs of the chair I’m in.”
“When you are ready to start, but before you sit down. I want to help get you into the right mind space. Also, you’ve mentioned enjoying some light corporal play. We haven’t done much of that beyond a little spanking and other backside slapping. Today might be a good day for some clothespins or similar light clamps or clips. And since you will be freeing your hands without looking at them, maybe a blindfold if you are comfortable with the idea,” Demi said. Her voice was soft and gentle, with just a hint of her usual ‘Mistress’ command.
Paul’s heart quickened at her suggestions, and he felt his cock, already swelling from anticipation of the call, stir within his shorts.
“Yes, Mistress Demi. I like those suggestions.”
“Commands now. Shall we pile on a little more, my pretty pet? Add some protocol to the mix?
“What are you thinking, Mistress?”
“Just some added formality and such. You are already very good at using my proper title. Don’t slip up, or I’ll assume you want to be punished. Don’t use my name, or ma’am, or anything else. Today, until I say so, I am just Mistress. I will call you slave, or toy, or pet, or- “she stopped, clearly thinking. “No, I’ll save calling you slut until I’ve properly toyed your backdoor.”
His erection surged against his underwear, despite his unwillingness to experiment with anal toys. Demi- No, he thought, Mistress today. He wondered why she had chosen today to mix things up and challenge his limits. He realized the answer even as the question echoed in his head. They had fallen into a routine, and that was probably bad for business.
“Yes, Mistress. That sounds exciting.”
“Exciting as in your dick got hard at my proposal?” she laughed.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said. No point in lying, he thought. Let’s see where this goes.
Do you have all your bondage supplies in place?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Fetch the other things I’ll need. Light clamps or clothespins, a ruler or a paddle, and a blindfold or similar piece of cloth. When you return, stand in the center of the room with your props still in your hands, and whisper ‘Mistress.’ I will inspect my plaything before continuing.”
He swallowed at her words, then realized she probably heard the noise. He quickly moved about his modest house, gathering the required items. Returning to the front room, he stood in the center, hands still full, and whispered, “Mistress.”
“Very good,” she said. “I’m standing behind you, facing your back, very close to you. Remain absolutely still, props in your hands, hands at your sides.” She didn’t wait for a response. “My breath is hot against the nape of your neck. With my heels, I must lean down a little, exhaling against the back of your head, stirring your short hair with my breath.”
Paul shivered, biting his tongue to stop the moan that sought release nearly as much as he did. He shifted his weight.
“Can you not be still, my toy?” she whispered. He shivered again, but managed to do it silently and without much movement. “There you go. Be excited. Be wanton. Be a bundle of nerves. But you can trust me, my pet. I want for myself, but I want for you as well. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he managed, throat suddenly dry.
“What are you holding?”
“A paint stirring stick, two plastic clothespins, and a sleep mask, Mistress.”
“Blindfold yourself.” He obeyed, and she spoke again. “Apply the clothespins to your nipples, but get more flesh trapped in them than just the tips. You will be wearing them for some time.”
“Done, Mistress.”
“Hold your stirrer in your right hand, down and behind you, and hold your left hand against the back of your neck.”
“Done, Mistress.”
“Don’t move until I say ‘start.’ Alternating sides, give each side eight hard swats, spread out over both cheeks,” she said. Silence followed and Paul was on his second inhale before she spoke. “Start.”
The stick struck awkwardly at first, with dull, muffled sound, but Paul got the hang of the motion and began landing sharp cracks on both sides of his ass. With only a few strokes left, he thought he had found his limit and tried to approach it. The final smack, on his left cheek, left a lingering heat when he stopped.
“Very good, my toy. I see a little heat warming up your ass, but tell me pet, how are those nipples feeling now?”
The question caught him entirely off-guard. He had been focused on getting the motion right and then the sensation it created. The clips, which he’d played with before, and not just on his nipples, felt mild at first, but an ache built up over time. He was just at that point where mild was turning achy. “I’m feeling them now, Mistress.”
“How?”
“The sensation is building into pain, Mistress.”
“Good. One at a time, alternating sides, flick them three times each.” He needed a moment, and help from his free hand, to line his flexed finger up for each flick. A sharp intake of breath followed each audible click of his fingernail against plastic. The pain was bearable. More than bearable, it turned him on. “Without opening them, pull them off. You are allowed to open them as little as possible only if you are approaching a safeword moment.”
The hiss of pain that accompanied his obedience surprised him. He had focused on staying silent, but his body betrayed him. The twitching of his cock surprised him even more.
“Remove the blindfold. Put it and the clothespins within reach of the chair you plan to use. When that is done, be a good slave and give yourself another ten whacks on each cheek. Spread them around your ass, slave. I want your cheeks hot when you sit down, but not welted. Just a little reminder of who you serve today.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Paul did as instructed, then, for at least the fifth time that morning, he made sure the chair and other parts of his plan were in place. He clipped the clothespins to the mask, then draped in over the top slat of the chair’s back. One more thing to do, he thought.
Facing the chair, so his arm would be unobstructed, he held the narrow strip of stiff wood behind him.
“Don’t forget to count the strokes for me, my pet,” Demi whispered. His cock twitched again and he knew the tip would be wet now. Instead of looking, he closed his eyes and tried to think of innocuous things. The sensation of imminent orgasm subsided. He drew his arm back and struck. A sharp crack sounded as the paint stirrer struck his ass.
“One, Mistress.”
He continued, alternating cheeks and spreading the strokes out as ordered. He only had two duds out of the twenty impacts. Mistress didn’t comment until he had counted twenty.
“Well done, slave,” she said. A long pause followed, and then she gave him a purring, husky laugh. “I have an idea, which is personal and invasive and may earn me an overdue ‘Hell no!’ from you. But, it gets me so hot thinking about it. Plus, I’ve already pushed your limits today, why not go for broke? Don’t say anything until I’m done.”
He heard her take a breath and then continue. “Take a picture of your ass. Your ass, pink or maybe red. Maybe striped. Take a polaroid. Take it with your phone and work some tech magic so it can’t be traced back to you. Maybe one day you will share it with me? Just say you’ll think about it.”
Paul did. He had an old digital camera, no wi-fi, no location. He could figure out something. “I’ll think about it, Mistress,” he answered. He heard a noise, her only response, but he couldn’t tell if it was a purr, a low growl, or a chuckle. He decided not to ask.
“Well, my pet, unless you are changing your mind about doing a cam session with me, it’s time for you to get bound.” She didn’t wait for a response to the prod. “My added instructions are to apply the clothespins after your legs and hips or waist are restrained. Give them a quarter turn so they aren’t clamping the same spot as before. If you feel it’s safe, put on the blindfold at the last possible moment. Finally, narrate what you are doing as you do it. I want a clear mental picture since you won’t share any others.”
“Yes, Mistress. I’m sitting down to bind my legs to the chair.” The vet wrap made a distinct sound when he pulled the first few inches loose.
“The pink wrap, right?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he said, suppressing a laugh. “Feet flat on the floor, leg to the outside of the chair leg, starting at the ankle and wrapping up over my calf.” The sound of wrap unspooling from the roll periodically punctuated his words. “And snip,” he said as the safety shears cut the wrap. “Oops. I forgot to put the wrist cuffs on first, Mistress. I should do that now.”
“Did you buy quality cuffs, or the cheap stuff?” Mistress Demi said, breaking his concentration as he reached for the cuffs laying on the floor to his right. He felt the chair wobble, but shifted his weight to hold it steady.
“I thought I was splitting the difference when I ordered them, Mistress, but I have to say, they look a bit cheap. The leather is thin. The edges are not rolled or treated in any way. The metal bits are shiny, which is their best feature, I think.”
“Boring. I’ll send you links to my favorite catalogs, if you like.”
“That would be nice. Thank you, Mistress Demi.”
“Since your kit is a bust, tell me about these calves you are wrapping in pink tape for me.”
“I rode a bike all the way through college. A bicycle, not a motorcycle. My calves are pretty stout and well-defined, Mistress.” He started binding the other leg. He was comfortable with the silence, but did tell her when he was finished. “Moving up. I have three old leather belts. One each to secure my thighs to the seat of the chair and one around my waist and back of the chair, Mistress.”
“Your thighs must be muscular too, with all that, mmm, riding,” she said. The pause and slightly breathy way she ended the sentence hit him hard. His cock swelled, jutting straight away from his body.
“Yes, Mistress. They are.” He was sure she heard his difficulty getting the words out. He hurried to get the belts buckled and she seemed to read his mind.
“No problems with the buckles, slave? Fine motor skills sometimes get scrambled by excitement.”
“Belts buckled, Mistress.” He paused, but she had no other comment. He wondered if she was waiting for him to forget. He took two deep breaths as quietly as he could. He could not help the sharp inhale, so he narrated. “One clothespin, Mistress.” Another breath. “The other, Mistress.”
“And?”
“The blindfold is on now, Mistress,” he said after shifting the headset and slipping the elastic band behind his head. No light came through. He might as well have been in a cellar with no windows, at night, during a blackout.
“How do you feel, my precious toy?”
“Nervous. Excited. All the good things, Mistress.”
“Hard?”
“Yes, Mistress. Very hard.”
“Good. Now narrate me through your next steps. If I have to call 911, I want a clear indication,” she said with a chuckle that made his cock twitch.
“I have the long zip tie looped through the D-rings on the cuff. I’m reaching for the fitting I made for the end to go into, and nope. Okay, I pull the slack out of the long zip tie so I have more end to get into the fitting. Damn. Oops. Sorry, Mistress.”
“I’ll have to tease you vigorously over that fit of temper, slave,” she said. “Do we need to regroup?”
“No, Mistress. I can reach it. I knocked it back onto the seat of the chair behind me.” He leaned, tempted to try shifting the chair legs. They shifted on their own, and he felt the chair wobble again. Before he could react, it passed the point of no return. He twisted his upper body hard to the right, trying to keep the edge of the chair’s ladder back from pinning his arm to the floor.
He hit the floor hard, and the impact shook him. He would have hit harder except for the cushions and folded towels he had scattered around the floor. He felt queasy. His arm wasn’t trapped, but his shoulder hurt. He realized his arm might not be under the chair, but it was not much use where it was. He noticed his right leg. He hadn’t even thought of it as the chair tipped, but it was safe now. The tape had stretched or his leg had just rolled somehow. It was now squarely in front of the chair, still bound to the wooden leg. The headset, knocked loose by the impact, rested on a towel about four feet from his face. He could hear Demi’s voice, tinny and remote.
“Paul? Paul! What’s happening?”
“I tipped my chair over. The headset is not on my head now, if you’re having trouble hearing me.”
“Oh shit. Are you alright? Do I need to call someone?” she said. He noted she had switched off her Mistress Demi persona and turned into problem-fixer Demi.
“Not yet. I have some safety precautions in place, or maybe I should say escape scenarios. There’s a pair of safety shears tied to each back leg of the chair. And a pair laying on the floor. Not sure how much good they’ll do, but I’m going to try to reach one,” he said.
“Keep me updated, otherwise I’ll stay quiet.”
Paul focused. He could reach the string of the shears tied to the back right leg, but they were on the wrong side of the chair. He tried to shift the chair toward the shears laying on the floor. That worked a little better, but it would be slow going. Then he had a new thought.
“I’m going to try breaking the zip tie,” he said. That might be the fastest way to get his arms loose. He had used a narrow, long tie between his wrists and he might muster enough force to break it. He quickly learned that the strength of his restrained arm was not enough, but something seemed to be yielding. He levered his torso against the chair and floor, forcing his left arm away from his right.
His arm popped free.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he said loud enough for the mic to pick up. “The cheap cuff D-ring opened up enough to let the zip tie out.”
Laughter erupted from the small speaker. “Well, maybe you won’t be buying high end restraints any time soon.” Dead air, then she spoke again. “Paul? If you want to finish this call properly, you need to get loose and put the headset back on. Or, we’ll just add time to the next call.”
“I’m on it!” he said, buoyed by the tone of her voice and the desire he heard. After releasing the belts, the shears made short work of the vet wrap, even with the awkward angle of lying on the floor, yet still sort of seated in a chair. He grabbed the headset and gasped.
“What is it?” she said.
“Clothespins,” he answered through gritted teeth.
“Well take them off!” At his gasp, she added. “Yeah, taking them off is a bitch. All those nerves feeling the blood rush back. I would stroke your hair and slowly ease them off, one at a time. If you didn’t whine too much, I’d praise you for taking the pain for me. You know how it turns me on.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
“Oh, I think we’re a little past ‘Mistress’ at the moment. I’d have to punish you for forgetting twice. I know I sound like a fickle bitch, but you don’t have to call me Mistress for the rest of our time together today.”
“Of course, Mistress.”
She laughed. “Take those wrist cuffs off if you haven’t already. And the blindfold, if it’s fallen down around your neck. Also, any shreds of that lovely pink wrap stuck to your legs have to go as well,” she said.
“Done.”
“Sit down, on the floor with your back against something and one of your towels or blankets underneath your bare ass.”
“Done,” he said, again.
“Mmm,” she hummed. “Naked. Unbound. Does your ass sting a little bit, Paul? Where you striped it for me?”
“In all the excitement, I stopped noticing, but yes. Just a little.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll have a little reminder of me after we’re done. I think it’s time for me to exit the shadows, Paul. I’ve been watching you all this time from the next room. These open floor plan houses are so handy for that, lurking,” she said, voice low and breathy.
Paul couldn’t remember describing his house, though he couldn’t be sure. He remembered her asking questions and then getting worried that she knew where he was. He laughed at his paranoia.
“Where are you?”
“Sitting up from the stuffed chair in the corner. I hope I didn’t get the seat cushion too wet. I step out of the shadow, my heels tapping slightly on the floor before I reach the rug. Do not move. Not one muscle. Understand?”
“Yes, Demi.”
“I’d love to put you to this test in person, you know? Commanding you to be still while I walked to you. Oops. My shoe came off. I guess I should take the other one off now too. Now you see me. I’m wearing a short, pale green dress. Like an LBD, but with a color I find flattering. It brings out my eyes, don’t you think?”
He thought of the color close up of her face. “Yes. And the tone of your skin.”
“Flattery goes a long way,” she paused, “toward getting me to hike up my dress, and. Oops. I forgot to wear any panties today. I was going to let you pull them down with your teeth. Well, there goes that plan.” She laughed again and his brain just stopped working for a moment.
“What are you doing, Demi?”
“I’m glad you asked. I’m kneeling down over your legs. I don’t kneel that often, Paul, so I hope you appreciate it. Especially since I’m pulling my dress up and off over my head so we can both be naked.”
His cock twitched again, and he had to stare across the room at the kitchen for a moment.
“No smart reply, my toy? You must be really close, especially after all the excitement of the day.”
“Very, very close,” he said.
“Hmm,” she purred. “I want you to take a minute to back off a little. Do you think you can do that? Just breathe. Relax. Rest your head against me. You’re safe now, alone with me.”
Paul closed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, head turned. He imagined the side of his face resting against her bare skin.
“Just like that. Rest. I reach behind you and let my hand roam over your back, your shoulders, and finally the back of your neck. Gentle caresses. My hand is warm; my skin is soft.”
He felt the tension of his near miss leave his body. His mind started throwing out unsolicited comments on his stupidity and over-confidence, but he shut it down, focusing on the feeling that Demi was evoking. He exhaled, letting the last tension drain away. Even his arousal subsided a bit.
“There,” she said. “I feel your breath against my skin as you finally let go of all that stress. Don’t get all excited yet. I’m feeling more calm than wild right now. I want to soothe you, but arouse you at the same time.”
He wasn’t sure what to make of her words. “I like the sound of that. I could use some soothing arousal about now.”
“Keep your hands on me. On my shoulders, or my waist. Or reach around to the tops of my other cheeks. Nothing too aggressive. I scooch toward you, letting some of my weight rest on your legs. Where they aren’t actually touching, our bodies are very close.”
He felt warm, as though Demi was really there, and the heat from her body soaked into him, washing out the stress of his near miss and the feeling of failure his scene gone wrong inflicted on him. “Mm,” the sound escaped him without prompting.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I feel it too. I press my hips to yours. What do I feel between us, Paul?” she said.
He was surprised to find his hard-on had returned, but he was more surprised that he didn’t notice it until she prompted. “A hard cock,” he finally said.
“Ooh. My favorite kind. But this time, I’m going to tease that orgasm out of you. You had your fun call before last, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
“I grab your waist, and press hard against you. Your precious boy parts are trapped between our bodies. I can feel you throb and twitch. Your mind has drained down into your cock, Paul, and all you can think of is getting that hard-on into me. I lift up off your thighs, just a touch, and slide along your trapped cock, my suntanned belly teasing against you.”
Fantasy had replaced reality in Paul’s overwhelmed mind. He could feel Demi’s warm skin, tan and firm, pressing against him. His cock pulsed and he realized he was about to lose it.
“Demi! I’m-” His words trailed off into a collection of inarticulate syllables.
“I love a happy ending,” she whispered. He felt lips brush his ear and his eyes shot open. “Talk to you soon, my sweet boy.”
“Bye,” he said, but she had disconnected already. The room still felt hot, but something seemed to be leaking out of it. He stood up on shaky legs and started recovering from the intensity he had just experienced.