Tied, a fantasy

[Te****]

My phone dings with a text.

Be ready at 7.

For what? I write back, but no answer. I narrow my eyes and try again. What should I wear?

Black, Sir writes back. Nothing but black. Show yourself to advantage for like-minded friends.

I pocket my phone, thinking, and go back to work. Time skips until I’m poking through my closet. Like-minded friends? I discard one item after another, rudderless. As I kick my closet in frustration, a zip-lock bag plops on my feet. I pick it up. Many black feathers surge into my hands, and I smile.

I see myself step out to his car, the light flooding me. I’ve had the sense to curl my yellow hair, ***t my lips *** red, smooth my complexion. I’ve left my glasses at home, too; my eyes are lined in heavy black.

A cape of inky feathers covers the tips of my shoulders. (I actually own this and have always wanted to wear it.) Bracelets and anklets of tinkling bells cling to my limbs. A black chemise covers my lingerie…. It’s 1940’s and I will die on this hill, because I look really good in it.

My heels clink on silent stone. As I see his headlights, I relax, if barely, and climb into the front seat. I click myself into the seatbelt automatically.

“Do I suit, Sir?” I ask innocently. I’m careful to lower my eyes; in my peripheral, I see him look at me in surprise.

“You’ll do very well, Pet,” he says. He’s got a suit. Why does he have a suit and I have… this?

The radio hums as he drives, and I follow suit. He takes my thigh, and I hold onto his hand. More because he expects it than any true pleasure, but the illusion lands, and he smiles.

“In regard to your collar,” he says casually, but it isn’t. He asked me if I’d take one the first time we met, after three hours of discussion and no coffee.

When I lowered my eyes and shook my head, he looked hard. His hand had cupped the back of my head, just enough that I couldn’t leave him. He tilted toward me slowly, his face baring in on mine, and I froze.

“I should really go before… I…”

I’d crumpled as he kissed me with insistence.
His lips were very soft, his hands were very warm, and he hadn’t mentioned it that time again. But since?

Often.

“I know you don’t want it, but… would you be up for a challenge?”

“What sort of challenge, sir?” Some of my curled hair falls over my face.

“Easy enough,” he answers. “I’d like you to experience some other partners. Measure them against me, and, at the end of the night, give me your honest feedback. If you’re broken, you’re collared. Are you up for that?”

“Yes,” I say.

“And here’s the thing,” he continues. “You’re not going to be in charge; I’m going to instruct you, or someone else is. Let’s see how submissive you really are.”

“Like hell,” I mutter.

It’s a big house. Old-looking, like a manor; but it’s probably just a renovated event space. Inside, thick rugs, wooden floors, myriad open bars, and people. Kinky people.

I’ve never seen something like this.

Sir brings me to the closest bar and sits on an empty stool. He flags the bartender, presses a mixed drink into my hands a few minutes later. I sip it. Rum?

Fine by me.

People come up to us and talk, like we’re waiting for a sporting event or something. It takes me awhile to realize we’re early. By the time my drink is empty, the room is nearly full.

“We’re going to be doing things that are new for you tonight,” he says. “Safe word?”

I shrug. “Ivory.”

“Good girl,” he says. “If you use it, it stops. Nod if you understand? …good.” He takes my empty cup, sets it down. “Turn around.”

I do. Nearby, people eye us with interest. I can’t imagine why. We’re far from the only people considering something unruly, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

Gently, he removes my feathered cape, tossing it to the floor. He ties my hands behind my back, then to my shoulders, then turns me to face him. I nod; this is fine. I’m not a coward.

He kisses me with intensity, and my stomach flutters; but no sooner do my eyes close than he wraps one hand around my neck. With the other, he tears the chemise. The rope stops it from falling completely, but my bra is the only thing—

As he squeezes my neck, His hand is very warm. I shudder, and he smiles.

“Broken yet?”

“You’ll have to do better than that,” I say fiercely. I raise my head. Nearby, a few people chuckle.

“I will,” he promises quietly. His dark eyes swallow me, and the complete confidence there is the first thing to make me nervous, but I don’t look away.

He turns me away from him a second time. I shift my wrists, but this guy knows what he’s doing; I’m not getting out without help. I take a deep breath; and he blindfolds me.

“One more time,” he murmurs in my ear. “Safe word? Say it once now.”

“Ivory,” I say.

“Good.” His hands are on my shoulders. “I’m going to be within eyeshot the entire night. Nothing will happen to you without my approval, even if you don’t know what it is.” He pauses. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” I say, uncharacteristically demur. My mind is reeling.

“Good,” he repeats. The low excitement in his voice unsteadies me, but I don’t care. He’s not winning… whatever this is. I won’t let him.

After a moment, another piece of rope sc***s my shoulders—a sort of leash. He pulls and I follow. “Step up,” he murmurs, and I do. A platform? “Kneel.”

I do again, but the rug beneath me is soft. His hands take their place at my shoulders.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, “I have a new Pet!” A little bit of cheering. “Unfortunately, she needs to be broken in…”

Oh god. I’m now shaking for an entirely different set of reasons, so, thanks, Satan.

“…any volunteers, please present themselves to me in room four. I will be discussing safeguarding with any potential participants. Thank you!”

He takes my lead again and tugs. I follow where he goes, careful with my feet. I hear a door; when he pulls again, my heels click on stone. After a few more steps, he grabs my throat.

“Stay,” he says. I hear him walking; something metal. After a few moments, the rope around my shoulders is removed. I hear a soft thud as he tosses it aside. Next, something is hooked into the bindings on my wrist; they’re wrenched up behind me. I adjust my stance automatically, placing my feet. It’s not great in heels, but I can do it, as long as my concentration doesn’t break.

“Good Pet,” he says. He comes near me, traces his fingers along my shoulder. He checks to make sure nothing’s too tight, then hums faintly in approval. “Remember, I can see you,” he repeats. “You’re going to be perfectly safe. If someone gags you and you can’t safe word, flash a peace sign with both hands, and I’ll stop it.”

“Yes, Sir,” I sat quietly.

“If you give in now, nobody else will touch you,” he says. “I’ll reward you. Wouldn’t you like that?”

“I don’t give in,” I answer. I shoot for cavalier, but I’m bound and blindfolded at a kink event, so god only knows.

He laughs. “We’ll see about that.”

The door squeaks again, then shuts, and I am left alone in silence.

My dream follows him, not me. Once I see him, I can also see the room: the far wall is made entirely of glass. On the other side, there’s a little sitting room. On my side, there are…

Options. many options.

People visit him in his room, and some he sends away; others, he questions. I can’t hear anything, and it goes fast, like somebody hit fast-forward.

It doesn’t go to real time until the first man walks in. As a woman steps in behind him, a speaker crackles on the ceiling.

“Begin,” comes Sir’s tinny voice.

The man looks to the woman. She walks around me once, considers me, then raises her hand to spank me. I jolt in surprise, and she nods to him.

“Mouth first,” the woman says. “Let me hear her.”

The man inclines his head, then walks to me, his hands on his pants, loosing himself easily. He touched my face gently, a silent question, and I nod again, if shakily.

Mercifully, he’s smaller than Sir. For a second, I dedicate myself to him. It isn’t until I try and reach for him that the reality of the situation hits me. The man is biting his lip to keep himself quiet. I give him an encouraging set of noises, and the woman smiles slowly.

She walks to one of several tables and picks up two sets of cuffs. The man freezes, but she waves a dismissive hand, and he keeps going, thrusting into me slowly. I’m shaking harder than ever, but I know what’s at stake, and I won’t break.

First, she takes off my shoes, which confuses me, but I’m hardly in a position to complain. Next, She cuffs each of my ankles to metal hooks drilled into the floor, forcing me to stay spread. Carelessly, she rips off my underwear; the garters and knee-highs stay.

Oh god. Oh God.

She returns to the table, considers the items, then shakes her head: whatever she wants isn’t there. She snaps her fingers and the man stops instantly.

“Switch,” she says.

Without a word, the man pulls out. He touches my lips, then looks to her.

“Well? Get on with it,” she says. “Be a good boy, and I might take mercy on you.”

They switch places; she takes my chin in her hands as he fumbles with a condom.

“Every bit as pretty as he promised,” she says coolly. She kneels, then kisses me. Behind me, the man rubs my clit, and I moan despite myself. She chuckles. “Let’s hope he was right about your manners, too. Should I let my slave fuck you for your master, Pet?”

“He’s not my master,” I gasp.

“Hmmm,” she says. She pulls down my bra, playing with one of my nipples, and I stiffen. “Was that a no? You’d prefer it if I left you alone? I doubt that. How is she?”

The man smiles. “She’s soaked, Mistress.”

“N-no, I-I—“

She puts a hand over my mouth, then nods to the man. He starts to finger me, arching, and I moan again, thrusting.

“Beg,” she says simply. “Beg, little girl, or I’ll leave you like this.” She removes her hand.

“No!” I whimper. “Please. Please, please, fuck me. Please, use me.”

“What was that?”

“Mistress, please.”

Her smile is sharp as is cruel, but I can’t see it.

“Good girl,” she says. She nods, and the man takes me. He has lube, but he absolutely doesn’t need it. I’m running down my own thighs.

“Yesyesyes!” My cries are an inordinate keen as he fucks me, but he won’t be long. His face is red, and he’s hardly immune to the power exchange happening here. “Please! Please, fuck me!”

“That mouth is far too busy, my beauty,” the woman whispers. Before I know it, she thrusts herself against my face. I recognize the feel and die. “Put it to better use.”

I dive in. She’s holding my head, but she doesn’t need to; I angle my tongue against her clit, carefully diving—

Okay. That’s a lie. I’m just licking as hard as I can. She’s directing me; she’s directing everything. If she wants to use my mouth, it’s going to get used. It’s that simple.

Red flames in her cheeks.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Her voice barely trembles.

“Yes,” the man rasps. “Please, Mistress. I—I can’t last much longer—!”

“Good boy,” she says. She steps away, and I whimper. She crosses behind me, then grabs him. “Now, stop.” He doesn’t. She wraps her fingers in his hair, yanks it, and he winces. “I said stop!”

He does, pulling out. He’s so close he’s visibly twitching.

“Well? What do you say?”

“T-thank you!” He manages. She lets him go.

“Good,” she purrs. Their eyes lock; desperate with vivid. “Come. If you’re coming with anyone, it’s going to be me.”

He follows her, discarding his condom and throwing it in a trash can. My entire body is shaking.

“Wait,” I say, catching up too late. “Please—!”

“Have a good night, Pet,” the woman says. “You did very well.”

As the door clicks again, I see Sir’s face… and he’s smiling.

The next time someone steps in, it’s a single man. He, too, is in a suit. Black and handsome, this one, with a smile of an edge.

“Begin,” Sir says again. I brace myself, but He ignores me, walks straight to the tables, selects a plug, lube, and walks back to me. I jolt again as he slides two slick fingers into my ass, then the plug.

Fuck. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh God,” I say quietly. “Please. Look, please—!“

He turns it on. I didn’t know it vibrated, but he did. Before I can do anything, he goes to the tables a second time, clips my nipples—I whimper—gags me, and leaves.

He never said a word.

The door sounds again, but I don’t hear it.

I’m too busy losing my mind.

Sir, sitting plum in his little room, looks up when you two walk in. Between my wrists, ankle cuffs, and the torn dress, the angle with which I’m visible, you can’t really tell it’s me.

And this time—heaven help me—I can hear you. All of you.

“good evening,” he says. He holds out his hand; daddy shakes it.

“hello,” he answers politely. “This is my partner.”

Daddy’s in black and so are you. You’re in the nightgown that actually ***s me whenever you wear it. The one that makes me want to kiss you over the fabric, to see if you could feel my lips. If it weren’t for the collar at your throat and the half-mask on his face, I’d never consider it unusual. Even asleep, the sight of you is home.

“Hello to both of you,” he says. “Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you,” Daddy answers. He looks through the glass, then to you. “We heard about your… offer.”

“I see,” Sir answers. “Hard limits are any color shower and ***, ***s, and children. Do you agree to respect these?”

“We do,” you say. He nods.

“No permanent damage, either,” he warns. “The goal is to break her.”

Daddy’s brow furrows. “Break her?”

“We made a deal,” Brent explains. “I break her, then I can collar her. This is my gambit… within the bounds of safety and comfort, of course. If you’re interested, I’ll need to know your ideas and how you plan to accomplish them. I have a few suggestions, if you require them.”

“Kitten?” Daddy looks to you patiently.

You take a breath and smile at him. “I can handle it.” Your exchanged glance speaks volumes. Daddy grins.

“I’ll wait here,” he says. “Okay?”

“Her safe word is Ivory,” Sir says, deciding. He leans forward. “What, exactly, are you going to do?”

When the door clicks again, it’s you.

You smile at the glass and come forward. Both boys are seated.

“Begin,” says Sir.

You trace your fingers over my skin, drawing the shreds of chemise away from it. My muffled whimper makes you smile.

I am in so much trouble.

As you kiss my shoulders, you freeze as both my tattoos come into view. Your eyes dart to the glass; you lick your lips. I see the decision as your nightgown hits the floor.

You walk to the tables, too.

As soon as the crop in your hands lands, you laugh low. I don’t hear it. I’m desperate.

You keep going.

After awhile, You bend down and remove the clips, taking one of my nipples into your mouth and blowing gently. More muffled noises, but tone is everything. You know what I’m asking.

My gag next. You press your lips against mine, and I stick my tongue into your mouth, kissing at my best; a plea as well as pleasure. You shudder a little; whatever the plan was, I doubt I was in it, but I was here and you can do anything.

I won’t know, but even if I did, it settles that I’d do it.

It settles that I’m Yours.

“Please,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse. “Please…”

Your fingers trace over me carefully. Whenever you get too close to my nipples, my ass or my drenched pussy, you move away, smirking when I cry out.

After a while, Daddy takes the speaker. I don’t think he knows.

“Kitten,” he scolds, amused. “Don’t play with your food.”

My entire body stiffens: cover’s blown. You throw your fingers behind the hollow of my ear.

“Beg,” you whisper to me. “I need you to beg. Can you do that for me, Tessa?”

“Please,” I say softly. For the first time all night, I am completely and utterly Scottish. You rub the double-ended dildo you’ve sensibly prepared against my slit, and I literally start to cry, soaking my blindfold. “God, please! PLEASE!”

You hold a magic wand against my clit as you fuck me, thrusting your hips.

“Docter,” I moan, again and again, unable to move or see, unable to do anything but feel what you will give me. My toes curl. “Docter! Please, dinna stop!”

Realization hits Daddy’s face, but it’s too late.

“Good girl,” you rasp, shivering. “Oh, God…!”

The door bursts open as Daddy appears.

“Kitten…!”

“She feels so good, Daddy,” you whimper. I moan. “She feels so good!”

There’s sense and then there’s moment. Sensibly, he opts for the second. He walks up behind you, grabbing your throat.

“Don’t stop,” he grows. His voice is husky. One of his hands toys with your clit. “Finish.”

Daddy’s energy is too much for me.

“I’m going to cum,” I *** out. “Please, please let me cum!”

“Cum, then.” Daddy’s voice carries. “Cum!”

And I do. For the first time that night, I do, and holy fuck, is it explosive. My entire body goes limp, save for my heaving chest.

Both of you stop. Daddy kisses your hand, nodding, and you understand; you’ll discuss it later, but there are limits to churlishness.

The door opens as Sir steps in. He’s carrying a collar.

“Thank you,” he says politely. To me: “Pet. Are you broken?”

Daddy frowns. “At least let her down.”

“Not yet,” says Sir. “Pet. Are. You. Broken?”

“Not…by…you,” I whispered. “Lady….please…”

You look to Daddy, forgetting to check your face. He looks to you, to me, to Brent, and back again. You, too, see a decision.

“Tessa,” he says slowly. He crosses, undoes my blindfold. “Who do you belong to?”

My eyes meet his. Mascara and kohl are smeared on my face, but the look is clear as moonlight. “Why do you a-ask that?” I take a breath, close my eyes again. “When you know…”

Sir frowns. “What’s happening here, exactly?”

Daddy looks to you, thinking hard. After a moment, he nods, once.

Choice made.

“You’re not going to collar her,” you say. You hold out your hand. “We are.”

He scowls. “Oh, come on. Pet, tell them.”

“Theirs,” I manage. “Always. Theirs.”

Fury twists his face as Daddy lets me down; he leaves. I’m shaking, but you two come together, helping me loose.

“Yours,” I whisper. Again and again. I nuzzle and kiss whatever I can reach, still crying. “Yours, yours, yours.”

You touch behind my ear again. “I know,” you tell me. I still; my breathing smooths. “Let’s go home.”

As you fasten the collar around my throat, I wake up.

[dy****]

Hit me up please

[hu****]

(: