7 comments/ 24284 views/ 9 favorites The Bondage Gallery By: HeyAll Part 1 of 3: The Photography Offer Elizabeth looked at the paintings with sharpened eyes. She had the downtown art gallery renovated after she bought it nearly a year ago. It was expanded to include more space in the display rooms. The lights were also brighter. It became exactly what she envisioned when she purchased the place. She continued inspecting each painting alongside the customers in the gallery. Her standards were very high and she expected everything to be flawless. So far, each painting was perfectly positioned with the right amount of lighting. Her eyes switched to the door when a new visitor came. He was tall and dressed like a casual businessman. He must have been in his early 40's, she estimated. She noticed that he wandered the gallery and looked to the small crowd instead of the artwork. He was clearly looking for someone to speak with. "May I help you?" she asked politely. "You must be Elizabeth." She smiled, "That would be me." "It's nice to finally meet you. My name is Frank." "Pleasure to meet you Frank," she replied as they shook hands. "Beautiful place you have here. I love what you've done with it." "Thank you. It was a lot of hard work, but it was worth the effort." He nodded. "I'd have to agree." "You're an art lover I'm assuming. Looking for anything in particular? We've expanded our collection of artwork to include paintings, photography, sculptures, and mosaics." "Actually I'm looking to sell." "What kind of art?" she asked. "Human art." "We certainly have a market for that," she replied. "I'm new to this. Well, I've been doing photography for many many years. I've just never sold any of it. I'm not familiar with how this process works." "No worries. It's actually very simple. But first, I would need to see whatever artwork you have before we can discuss a deal." Frank suddenly looked dumbstruck, breaking his cool demeanor. "I have to apologize. I'm empty handed right now." "It's no trouble. I was a struggling artist before. I know what it's like." "I'm not exactly a struggling artist. I'm a lawyer. Photography is just a hobby. I plan on donating the profits to charity- assuming that anyone would actually buy my artwork." Elizabeth nodded. "A humanitarian. I like that." "I care about people," he smiled. "Of course you do. Especially since your artwork is, what did you call it again? Human art?" "It's a form of human art. I've photographed many beautiful women over the years. I hang some of the pictures in my apartment. But it's come to the point where it would be a travesty to keep the pictures a secret. I have to share them with the art world. They're extraordinary." Elizabeth nodded again. "Extraordinary art should always be shared. That's my philosophy." "Then I've come to the right place." "Email me some pictures of your artwork. I won't waste your time. I'll give you a blunt critique, then I'll let you know if I'm interested." She handed him a business card from her pocket. He took the card, then he smiled at her, almost in a flirtatious way. He slid the card in his pocket while looking her in the eyes. "We'll keep in touch Liz. I hope this relationship can continue." "Likewise." With that said, Frank turned around and left the art gallery. For that moment in time, Frank was the only person Elizabeth could see in the semi-crowded art gallery. She knew she was infatuated with him, but she didn't know why. *** Later that day. Elizabeth finished a late night shower after a busy evening. Her body was dry but her hair was still wet. There was a small towel wrapped around her head and she put on a smooth silk bathrobe. She sat in front of her computer and checked her email. There were 6 new messages. What caught her eye was an email titled Pictures I've taken. She immediately knew who the email was from, and she clicked it open: Hello Liz, It's Frank. We spoke earlier today. I made an inquiry about possibly selling you my artwork. I've attached the pictures. Let me know what you think. Frank She downloaded the files and there were exactly 50 pictures. She took her time looking at each image. The pictures featured a variety of beautiful women from different age ranges and ethnic backgrounds. All of the images were professional quality. Some of the pictures were taken indoors in an apartment, or outdoors in the city streets. The pictures seemed innocent at first. There were shots of the women smiling, posing, and doing fun things. The rest of the shots were taken in the apartment. There was a sensuality to all of the pictures, which perfectly captured the personalities and feelings of the different women. Elizabeth continued looking at each image. The pictures were slowly becoming more risque. Clothes were being removed. There were several images of naked women. Elizabeth had no issues with selling artwork of naked women in paintings or photographs, but the ones that Frank had taken seemed much more raw. They were borderline pornographic, but there was still an elegance and grace to them. They were simply unique. She knew instantly that she wanted them. And that she wanted to display them in her art gallery. She emailed her reply: Frank, I reviewed your pictures and I would be very interested in purchasing some. Can we meet? When are you available? Liz After sending the email, she got up and dried her hair in the bathroom. She continued with her usual beauty routine, applying cream to her face, and removing her robe so she could apply lotion to her body. She slipped on her night gown and checked her computer again. There was already a new email from Frank. She opened it: A meeting would be great. But I'm busy with work for the next several days. How about Friday evening at my apartment? I have hundreds of photographs that I can show you. Then you can pick which ones you want. Elizabeth emailed her acceptance, and Frank emailed back with the address to his apartment. She leaned back in her chair. She had never gone to a seller's home before, but she was willing to make an exception for Frank. She continued looking at his pictures wondering what else he had to offer. She was curious about the hundreds of other pictures he had. There was something inside of her that wanted to see him again. Their meeting would be the highlight of her week, she thought. *** Friday evening. Elizabeth paid particular attention to her outfit. She didn't want to dress too formal, and she didn't want to dress too casual either. She wanted to look appropriate, yet relaxed. She settled on a knee-length skirt and a buttoned top, with light make-up on her face. The apartment wasn't hard to find. It was in a nice community in the city. She made her way to his floor, and then she knocked on the door. Frank answered casually dressed. They smiled at each other, showing their mutual attraction. "Please, come in," he said. "I'm glad you made it." "Of course." Elizabeth entered the apartment and looked around. It was much more elegant than her own apartment. It looked classy. Everything was new. Her eyes turned to the picture frames on the wall. There were portraits of beautiful women that Frank had taken. Frank was definitely an art enthusiast, she thought. "Like it?" he asked. "You're certainly very talented." "Thank you. Can I get you anything to drink?" "I'm fine," she replied. "I like that you're open minded towards my artwork. From the first time I saw you, I knew that we had similar taste in art." "Are you referring to the nude photos? I'm not prudish. That sort of thing has never bothered me. I used to pose nude for some of my art classes in college." He smiled, "Figures. You have the body for it. And you seem like the type." "What type is that?" "The type that's open minded to new & exciting things." "I'll take that as a compliment," Elizabeth replied. "As you should. Open minded women always have more fun." Elizabeth shifted topics. "Anyway, you wanted to discuss selling your photographs. I'm interested. And I think we can reach a deal." "Discussing business so soon?" "That's why I'm here." He nodded. "I like business-minded women. Right this way." Frank led her to the dining table where there was a large photo album. He turned to the first page to reveal a portrait of a woman. He slowly flipped through the pages. The pictures were intimate and bare. "Do these women know that their images are being sold?" Elizabeth asked. "I would never breach a person's trust. Before I take pictures, I always let the models know that their images may be sold or displayed someday." "How do they feel about that?" "Look at them. They're beautiful. They're exhibitionists. They love the idea of being displayed." She nodded and looked at more pictures. "I can't argue with that." "I never had an intention of selling the pictures I've taken. But the collection became so large that I had to share it. It shouldn't be wasted in my apartment. It would be better suited in your art gallery." "These portraits look better than the other portraits in my gallery. I would love to display them." "Actually," he said. "I'm not interested in selling the face or body portraits." "No? Then why show them to me?" "Because I want to take things slow. I specialize in the human body. The female body is far more exquisite." "Well, I'd love to see what you have to offer," she said. Frank grabbed another large photo album and placed it in front of Elizabeth so she could open it herself. Elizabeth opened the album and saw a picture of a naked woman tied up, completely bound. The next picture was slightly more explicit, showing a woman in a completely helpless state of bondage. Elizabeth flipped through the large album and caught glimpses of women being tied while performing oral sex, or being penetrated. "Do you like it?" he asked. She slammed the photo album shut. "What the hell is this?" "My art." "No. It's porn. I'm an art dealer. I run a respectable art gallery. I'm not a pornographer." "I know," he said calmly. "That's why I came to you. I've heard you have a great reputation for being on the cutting edge of modern art." "That's right." "Then why not except my photographs?" "It's porn," she insisted again. "I'm not going to display those in my gallery." "Liz, please. I don't think you're understanding..." "I understand just fine. Those images are demeaning towards women and have no place in our society. I think you're a talented guy, but your efforts are misguided. I wish you the best of luck trying to sell them. I'm sure there are other galleries which would be willing to accommodate you. But I won't. Have a good night." "You're leaving already?" he asked, knowing the answer. "Have a good night, Frank." She turned around and headed towards the door. Then she left without saying a word. *** Two weeks later. The day was winding down. Customers and people browsing began to leave the gallery when it was almost time to close. Elizabeth spent her time chatting with people and discussing art. Closing time was in a few minutes. All of the customers had left. The small staff prepared to close the gallery. The front door opened and Frank entered carrying a large envelope and a bouquet of roses. Elizabeth approached him and greeted him with an awkward smile. "We're closing," she said. "I know. I've been busy lately and I came here as fast as I could. Can we talk for a minute?" "Sure." "These are for you," he said, handing her the roses. She gladly accepted them. "Thank you. But they aren't necessary." "I insist. They're for our last meeting. I wasn't trying to ambush you with those pictures." "Well, I accept your apology." "I wasn't apologizing," he stated. "Oh, then why did you come here? Just to bring me flowers?" "I wanted to let you know that I've been speaking to other potential buyers and galleries in the city. But I'm only interested in you. Call it a hunch, but I think we'd make a good team." "Frank, listen, I..." "Take this," he said, handing her the large envelope. "Those are some of my photographs. I'll give you a week to make your decision, then I'll make a deal somewhere else. Hopefully you'll give it some thought instead of dismissing them." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "You're really serious about having me distribute your art work." "Like I said, I think we'd make a good team. My intuition is always correct when it comes to women." "Is that so?" "It is. I've always understood women. I think I understand you too." "You don't know much about me," she replied firmly. "We'll see. Have another look at the pictures. One week, then I'll take them somewhere else." He turned and walked away. Elizabeth was taken aback by his confidence and attitude. She had never met a seller so brazen and arrogant. She looked at the roses and envelope in her hands, and she considered tossing them in the trash. Instead, she took them home with her. *** She returned to her apartment and released an audible gasp as she tried to unwind. She put her purse on the kitchen counter. The roses were put inside of a watered vase. She put the envelope on the same kitchen counter. After pouring herself some juice from the refrigerator, she sat down to relax. Curiosity got the better of her and she looked at the large envelope from Frank. She opened the envelope and poured the pictures onto the counter top. The photos were of beautiful naked women. They were explicit. The photos showed the women in various forms of restraint. They were bound by rope or strapped to a table. Many of the photos showed the women being spanked, flogged, or struck with a wooden paddle. The last set of photos showed each woman during intense states of orgasm. Their bodies thrashed. Their faces changed. Their hair swung. Their mouths were wide open as they screamed in pleasure. Elizabeth felt conflicted by the pictures. She thought they were lewd, but tastefully done. They were definitely stimulating to her in some way. She was intrigued. Frank was without a doubt a talented man who was highly skilled with a camera. Each shot was perfect. There was no denying that. She knew she couldn't sell or display all of the pictures. But she could sell or display some of them. There were several images that would have been a welcome edition to her gallery. And there was no way she was going to let her competitors in the city get a hold of them. After thinking for several minutes, she picked up the phone and called Frank to arrange an appointment. She needed to meet him again. Part 2 of 3: The Bondage Room A week later. There were butterflies in Elizabeth's stomach as she waited in the elevator, on her way to Frank's apartment floor. She dressed in a slightly more casual manner, showing a little more skin than before. All it took was two knocks before Frank answered with a smile. She tried not to smile back, but she did anyway. "Welcome," he said. "I'm glad you've reconsidered." She entered his apartment. "I'm sure the other art dealers must be disappointed." "Some are. But they'll get over it. Can I get you a drink this time?" "I'm fine thanks," she replied. "You know, you're the first person who's ever gotten me to reconsider artwork that I've rejected." "What changed your mind? My persistence? My handsomeness? Or do you just like me?" Elizabeth held in her smile. "I looked at your photographs more carefully, with a more open mind. You were able to capture something rare in those pictures. There was a vulnerability to those women. They really opened up to you." "Other photographers don't have my ability," he replied. "And what ability is that?" "The ability to give women powerful orgasms." "I noticed that in the pictures," she replied uncomfortably. "Obviously I won't be displaying those images in my art gallery." "Which is understandable. Not all of my work is suited for the general public." "Have you ever considered making a website so you could sell all of your photographs? I'm sure you'll find an audience for your work." "I'm not very good with computers," Frank stated. "I prefer human interaction. I also don't have the time or patience to run a website. I just want my pictures seen by as many people as possible. If I made a website, no one would visit. But if they were in your busy gallery, then my goal is accomplished." "A lot of artists feel that way. But like I said, I can only display some of your work, not the provocative ones." "I understand. It's a bit hypocritical that you would proudly display nude portraits throughout your gallery, but you won't display images of women in pleasure." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "No offense, but it's the year 2015, and hitting women is no longer fashionable." "Tell that to the women in my photographs." "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. "It means you don't have a clue what you're talking about. Have you considered that the women in the photos enjoy what I do to them?" "You seem like a successful guy. Women will enjoy anything if you pay them enough." "You think I pay them?" "Most models expect to get paid." Frank quickly turned around and opened a drawer to get a large photo album. It was a different album than before. He placed the album on the table, nearly slamming it, and sifted through random pages. "Do you think these are fake?" he asked. "Do you think I paid these women to fake these expressions on their faces?" "No," she admitted, looking at the pictures. "Let me ask you, when was the last time you had an orgasm like these women? Has a man ever made you cum like this? Have you ever made yourself cum like this when you're touching yourself late at night?" "That's none of your fucking business." she shot back. "I think you're just another big city feminist who's so obsessed with her career that she forgot to handle what's between her legs." "You're full of shit." "Am I? You're obviously here for a reason." "I thought we could do business together," she replied. "I guess I was wrong. Have a good night Frank." "Wait," he said in a commanding tone. "Don't leave yet." "And why not?" "Because you haven't seen the best part." Frank sifted to the back of the photo album. The photographs were far more graphic. The strikes to the women were harder and more painful. Different sized objects were inserted inside each woman's vagina or anus. There were even images of women performing oral sex on a man, presumably Frank, and having their mouths covered with sperm. "This is borderline sexual harassment," she said. "Why are you showing me this?" "These women aren't hired models, whores, or porn stars. They're normal women, just like you. I've never paid them a dime. They come to me because they love it. They want to be photographed because they know it's beautiful." Elizabeth gave him a long and hard look. She knew men. And she knew he wasn't lying. He was telling the truth, and it confused her. "I guess I don't understand the whole bondage thing," she admitted, calming her tone. "It just doesn't make sense to me." "Pleasure is pleasure." Elizabeth flipped to the front pictures of the photo album, which showed a woman being flogged powerfully on her naked ass. "You're telling me that women actually enjoy this?" she asked incredulously while pointing at the picture. "Her facial expression says it all. I still remember that photo shoot. She came like a river that day." "How? How on earth could a woman enjoy being treated like that?" Frank smiled, "There are a number of reasons. Take your pick. Most women enjoy surrendering their bodies to a dominant figure. Some like the discipline and punishment aspects. Or if you want to get clinical about it, some like the endorphins which are produced from the pain." The Bondage Gallery "You're sick." "Yet you're still here, which tells me that you're curious. Believe me, I understand women better than you do. If you were disgusted by these pictures, you wouldn't be looking at them so much." "Maybe it's because I find this whole thing to be strange," she replied. "Or maybe you envy the way that these women orgasm. It's something you're craving deep down. I can tell that you haven't gotten laid in months." "You don't know anything about me." Frank closed the photo album. "Enough of this back-and-forth. Let's talk business. You're interested in displaying some of my photographs in your gallery, correct?" "Yes, that's correct. Despite what I think about your fetishes, you're a talented photographer." "Which photographs are you going to display? Just the face and nude portraits?" "Yes." "I want you to display some of my bondage photos also," he said sternly. "Not all of them. None of the graphic pictures because I respect that you're trying to run a clean business. But you should display some of the light bondage pictures." "And why should I do that?" "Because there's a market for it. And because it's my biggest passion in life. It shouldn't be locked away in my apartment. It should be proudly displayed in a gallery." Elizabeth shook her head. "Listen, Frank, I get what you're..." "I want you to experience some light bondage," he said bluntly. "Nothing too painful. Just something you can handle. I want you to try it instead of insulting it." "That's not going to happen." "I thought artists were supposed to be open minded?" he asked rhetorically. "Not when it comes to rough sex that's demeaning to women." "Everything is consensual Liz. Try it. If you don't, you'll never know what you've been missing. You have nothing to lose. No one will ever know. It'll be our dirty little secret." She crossed her arms and thought for a moment. "How would it work?" "Come back next Sunday night when you're in a relaxed mood. Relaxation is important. Then we'll take it from there, slowly." "I don't even know why I'm still listening to you." "People say I'm charming," he said light-heartedly. She smiled, "I'd have to agree." "Next Sunday evening. Dress light. I'll start things gently with you." "The deal is off," she said sharply. "I'm sorry. I think it's best if we stopped contacting each other. Best of luck with your artwork." Frank looked at her without emotions. "The offer still stands. I'll keep my evening clear next Sunday for you." "I've made up my mind. Have a good night." She walked to the door while Frank simply gazed at her like a misbehaving pet. He knew she would return. She was the type. *** Days later. Elizabeth sat behind the desk of her tiny office after the gallery had closed. She was busy calculating the profits for the day. Sales were average. Nothing great. It was enough to pay the bills and her employees. When the paperwork was done, she leaned back on the chair and looked at pictures she had received from other potential sellers. They were tame. Nothing exciting. Most of the artwork she had been receiving were bland with very little edge to it. Even the nude paintings and photographs she had been receiving looked bland. Everything had become boring after seeing Frank's work. She ran her fingers through her hair, leaning further back. Then she got back to work mode and opened her drawer to look at Frank's bondage photos again. Damn it. I want these pictures. But Frank is a royal ass. She thought. She thought for a moment: Would trying a little bondage hurt? Probably not. No one will never know. It might be fun. I want those pictures. Our dirty little secret. Maybe. Elizabeth closed the gallery in the evening and took a long walk downtown. She needed the fresh air to clear her mind. Frank was right about one thing- she hadn't gotten laid in a very long time. And she was in desperate need of a good orgasm. *** Sunday night. Elizabeth was on her way to Frank's apartment. She wore a casual blue dress. She didn't bother call in advance to notify him. She wanted to see if Frank kept his word about keeping his schedule clear. As it turned out, he did. When she arrived to his apartment door, he greeted her with an expecting smile, as if there was no doubt she was coming. He was dressed sharply and his hair was styled. "Welcome again," he said. She entered his apartment. "You look rather prepared." "Why wouldn't I be prepared? A man should always prepare when a beautiful woman comes to his home." "Not a bad code to live by." Frank closed the door while Elizabeth roamed around the apartment. She looked at his furniture, his electronic items, and the images displayed on the wall. She wanted to know more about him through his lifestyle. After all, he was the man who was going to give her an orgasm, she expected. "Can I get you a drink this time?" he asked cordially. "No, thanks." "Do you always turn down drinks? "I'm here on business," she said. "I like to keep a level head." "Then let's talk business. You can display any of my photographs that you choose, but I want fair market value for them. All of my profits will go to charity. But in order to make this deal, I want you to experience light bondage so you won't sound so ignorant anymore." "Are you still trying to convince me to display your bondage photographs?" she asked. "Yes." "We'll see. I'm here with an open mind tonight." "Then remove your outfit," he said bluntly. "Excuse me?" "Remove your dress, bra, and panties. Everything off. I want you naked." Elizabeth batted her eyes. "You have a lot of nerve." "It was your choice to come here. Don't waste my time." She looked at him sharply. Then her fingers went to the straps of her dress and she pushed them off her shoulders. The blue dress fell to the floor around her ankles. She reached back and unclasped her bra while continuing to look Frank in the eyes. The bra fell to the floor and her bare breasts were exposed. Her breasts were medium sized. Her dark pink nipples hardened from the exposure. She bent down to remove her panties, standing naked before him. Frank remained expressionless. If he was impressed, he didn't show it. His eyes roamed her naked body, taking in as much as he could. "This was worth the wait," he nodded. She raised an eyebrow. "Were you planning this all along?" "No. But the moment I first saw you, I wanted to have you." "Now here I am," she said. "Naked in your living room." "I'd like you better in my bondage room. Follow me." Frank held Elizabeth's hand and led her naked down the hall. Bondage room? She was surprised that he had a name for his special room. When Frank opened the door, Elizabeth knew exactly why it was called the bondage room. Everything inside was built for sex- nothing else. Nothing inside was comfortable. Instead, there were different shaped tables with straps on them, sex toys displaying on the walls, and different devices for bondage. "Scary," she said sarcastically. "Everything here is for pleasure." Elizabeth walked around the room and casually browsed at everything. Nudity was becoming less of an issue. She felt comfortable being naked around Frank. "So how is this going to work?" "I'll start lightly with you," he said. "Very lightly." Frank held up a ball of thin red string. "You're kidding," she said playfully. "No, I'm not. You're as fragile as a kitten, so I'll treat you like one. I'm going to tie you up with this string, that way, if you get scared, you can easily break out." She jokingly rolled her eyes. "Let's get this over with. I want to see what all the fuss is about." "Lay on the table. On your back." Elizabeth did as she was told. She laid down on the table. She trusted him completely. Her eyes looked at the ceiling lights. At that moment, she came to the conclusion that she would let Frank do whatever he wanted. She felt her hands being tied with the soft string. Her wrists became bound and they were tied to the table. It was slightly uncomfortable, scary, and exciting, all the same time. Frank did the same thing with her feet. Then her feet were tied to the table. Everything was professionally done. "Nervous?" he asked. "A little. I've never been in this position before." "We're not done yet. One more thing before we begin." Frank reached for a piece of cloth and folded it, making a blindfold. He covered her eyes with it and tied a knot behind her head so it wouldn't move. Not only was she bound, but she was also blindfolded. All she could hear was his footsteps pacing the room. She had no clue what to expect. The anticipation and curiosity was growing. "Is there a safe word?" she asked nervously. "In case I don't want to do this anymore." "The string is thin. If you want to stop, then break free. It's that simple." She tightly tugged on the string with her wrists, wondering if she could actually break it. She wasn't completely sure, which was both scary and exciting. There was a smack on her thigh. It caused a sharp pain. Whatever it was, it wasn't his hand. "What is that?" she asked. "A fly swatter. I'm going to make you cum with it. Just relax." Frank struck her again with the fly swatter. Then again. The fourth and fifth hits became harder. There was a stinging feeling to it. He continuously stuck the same spot. Elizabeth couldn't see her leg, but if she could, she was sure the spot was turning red. The next slap hit her breast. It was completely unexpected and it felt more arousing. Her breasts and nipples had always been extremely sensitive. Then came a wave of slaps. Each strike was no longer targeted and calculated. Frank began using the fly swatter indiscriminately on her breasts. He slapped her tits like he hated her. For a moment, she thought he was angry with her. The slaps came fast and furiously. There was a stinging sensation across her chest. She yelped out loud when her sensitive nipples were struck. Frank sensed her weakness and began targeting her big pink nipples, making them swell even further. "Ahhh!!!" she screamed with each strike to the center of her tits. Frank stopped when Elizabeth began to squirm on the table. He didn't want to scare her away. He didn't want her to break free. There was more to be done. The mission hadn't been accomplished yet. Elizabeth's breathing became deeper. There was a stinging sensation across her breasts and on her thigh. She was tempted to break free. She tugged the strings, but to no avail. She tugged a little bit harder and felt the strings begin to weaken. She tugged a little bit more, wanting to end the bondage. A swat between her legs caused her to stop. She was swatted on the pussy. That bastard. Frank hit her pussy again, directly on the clitoris. Direct hit! Ouch! Her sensitive clit ached in pain, the good kind. She loved clitoral stimulation, but she never felt anything like what Frank was doing. He really is a pro. Another swat came and hit her pussy again. Then again. She tugged the strings again, not to escape, but in pleasure. A smile grew on her face, which she tried to hold in. Frank spread her pussy lips with his fingers and held it open. Don't even think about it! Not in there! You bastard! He did. Frank struck her pussy with the fly swatter, directly inside of her pink wet cunt. "Owwww!!!!!" she yelled. A few more strikes to her exposed pussy, and he released his hold. He swatted furiously at her clitoris with one goal in mind. He wasn't going to stop until she came. He watched Elizabeth squirm on the table with her toes curled and he continued to swat faster. She came magnificently. She looked like a beautiful hot mess in the process. Frank left her there breathing heavily. He watched her. She looked gorgeous. "Are we done?" she finally asked. Frank removed the blindfold. "We're done. How was it?" "I haven't cum like that since college." "Far too long." He bent down and kissed her on the lips. She kissed him back. It was a soft and tender kiss. But it was also the kind of kiss which showed that he was in control, not her. *** The next few weeks were a sexual whirlwind for Elizabeth. She continued seeing Frank for both business & pleasure. Mostly pleasure. They met at his apartment to discuss which photographs to display. Afterwards, he would take her to the bondage room for discipline. Elizabeth was punished every which way. She was paddled from behind. Spanked with his bare hand. Wiped. Flogged. Swatted. They never had sex. Not even oral sex. She wondered why, but she figured that Frank had a reason for it. As their relationship progressed, they began going out together. He took her to the movies, art museums, plays, and dinner. Every time she thought they would become equals in a relationship, he would bend her over for a spanking. It was a constant reminder of her new position with him. She had always considered herself a strong independent woman, but for Frank, she was willing to make an exception. Part 3 of 3: Office Bondage Restraints Saturday early morning. It was the day of Elizabeth's big art exhibition. She had only hosted a few, and they had all been successful. Two of her employees were in the gallery helping to arrange the slew of new artwork. Elizabeth stood next to Frank, putting the final touches on his exhibit. His wall was filled with photographs of beautiful naked women. None of the pictures were overly explicit. There were face portraits, nude portraits, images of light bondage, and close up shots of their faces while they came. "This is easily the most provocative exhibit I've ever put on display," she noted. "One step at a time." She playfully bumped him with her shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It's only a matter of time before you become bold enough to show real art." "And this isn't?" "These images are beautiful," he said. "But a woman's body is limitless. There are so many shapes and forms which should have been displayed on this wall." "What are you saying? That I'm not bold enough because I'm not willing to show hardcore bondage or penetration?" "Exactly," he teased with a wink. "You're hopeless." "How does it feel having your picture on this wall?" Frank pointed to the photograph which showed Elizabeth's naked body in light bondage. There was no face. Only a picture of her breasts and vagina. Her hands were tied behind her back, and her ankles were chained together in the photograph. It was the centerpiece of Frank's exhibit. "I still can't believe you convinced me to display that," she replied, smiling like a schoolgirl. "God, if anyone knew that was me...No one would believe it. That's for sure." "Which is exactly why it's so arousing for you," he stated firmly. "Good girl Liz, with her naked portrait on the wall- in her own gallery. It gives you a fun little exhibitionist thrill, doesn't it?" She shrugged. "I guess this makes me an exhibitionist now." "You've always been an exhibitionist. You just didn't know it." "Thank god I have you to teach me everything," she said playfully and sarcastically. "I bought you a dress for tonight. It's a classy black dress. Not too ordinary, not too sexy. It's just right for the special occasion. Wear a thin bra so your breasts don't hang out. But no panties." "Why no panties?" she asked with an eyebrow raised. "Is there another exhibitionist thrill I should know about?" "It's a surprise. Just for you and me. No one else needs to know." "That's reassuring." She wrapped her arm around him and they continued looking at the bondage exhibit together. She looked at the different nude pictures, then to her own. She was still in disbelief that her naked body was actually on the wall. It made her wet thinking about it. *** Later that night. The art gallery slowly came to life as well-dressed attendees began to appear. A catering service provided refreshments to the growing crowd of art aficionados. Jazz music played in the background. The environment was social as people chatted with each other and discussed the various artworks on display. Elizabeth wore the dress that Frank bought. It fit perfectly. Frank knew her exact measurements. It showed off her arms and calves. Elizabeth looked her best, but she made sure not to overdo anything. It was a big night for the city's art crowd, and she needed to look just right. As more people came, she made sure to greet as many people as she could. She shook hands with almost everyone. It was slightly awkward engaging the crowd while pantyless, but she quickly got used to it. It was an exciting secret. Her eyes darted to the door when Frank showed up in a casual suit, looking like a suave businessman. He was carrying a brown paper bag with him. She approached him like a kitten and shook his hand, greeting him like a well-deserved artist. "Welcome." "You look ravishing in that dress," he said, looking her over. "Thank you. And you were right." "About?" "The photographs," she replied. "They're the biggest hit of the night. A lot of people are talking about them in a positive way." "That's the last thing on my mind right now." She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" "Let's go to your office in the backroom. I can't wait any longer." She nodded and led him to the backroom office. She knew exactly what Frank wanted to do. My god. At my own art gallery? During an exhibition? How could he? I hope he doesn't stain my dress. They brushed passed the crowd until they reached the small office in the backroom area. She closed the door and locked it. There was a tingle between her legs. "What happens now?" she asked. "I'm going to fuck you. And I'm going to claim your mouth." "Here? Right now?" she asked, pretending to be surprised. "It's the perfect time to consummate our relationship. We should be quick. We wouldn't want any of your esteemed guests waiting for too long. Now bend over your desk. I'm going to tie you up." Elizabeth did as she was told. She bent over her desk. She watched Frank pull out a thick brown rope from the bag he was carrying. The rope looked intimidating, like it could actually hurt someone. "You remember that I'm loud right?" she asked with concern. "I don't want anyone hearing this." "I came prepared." Frank pulled out a red ball gag & strap from the bag. He tossed the bag to the floor and approached Elizabeth. She knew exactly what to do, trusting him completely. She opened her mouth so Frank could insert the red ball gag, then he used the head strap to hold the ball gag in place. Her jaw hurt. It was extremely uncomfortable. But it was what Frank wanted. Everything he had ever done made her feel good. Frank knew all of her pleasure spots, even when she didn't. She remained bent over on the desk. Frank tied each of her ankles to the bottom of the desk. Her legs were spread apart. Frank did the same thing to her wrists. Each of her wrists were tied to the bottom of the desk. She was completely bound. "Do you trust me?" he asked. She nodded. "Good," he replied. "There's one more aspect to our game which I think you'll enjoy since you've discovered your exhibitionist side." Frank walked to the door and unlocked it. Elizabeth's eyes immediately widened. She would scream at him if she could, but the ball gag didn't allow it. "Let's hope that no one walks in and catches us," he smiled. "The sooner we cum, the less likely we'll be caught. Let's begin." Elizabeth's eyes remained on the door. She was terrified of getting caught as the bondage kept her strapped to the table. She couldn't see what Frank was doing as he got behind her. But she heard his pants unzip. Then she heard him open a condom wrapper, then putting it on. The Bondage Gallery His hand lifted the back of Elizabeth's skirt to expose her bare bottom. She felt Frank's hand touch her pussy, rubbing the outside, then the inside. "My goodness you're wet. Making you cum tonight is going to be easier than I expected." She felt both of Frank's hands spread her pussy apart, then she felt the tip of his erection touch her hot pussy. She had no idea how big he was. She had never seen his penis before, and she had no idea what to expect. When it slowly entered her pussy, she knew it was big. Inch by inch the hard cock entered. Every inch gave her an erotic sensation. She hadn't been laid in months. Frank's big cock was a much needed treat. By the time he went all the way in, he was deep inside of her. Elizabeth's pussy was stretched. She savored every second as Frank held still. Her body adjusted to the size. Then he slowly pulled back before giving her a thrust. The ball gag in Elizabeth's mouth prevented her from gasping out loud. There was another thrust, and her moan was once again muffled. She kept her eyes on the door handle as Frank began to form a rhythm. The thrusts were becoming harder and faster. His cock was everything she expected and more. Soon, she was listening to the sounds of his crotch slapping against her ass as he ravished her pussy. The pleasure and intensity grew. Her body felt energized and she pulled hard against the ropes with her hands and feet. But there was no chance of fighting the bondage. The rope and knots were too strong. "Don't pull too tight," he warned. "You'll leave marks on your wrists. Just relax and let me do all the work." Frank reached down and rubbed her hair and shoulders while he fucked her. She tried her best to relax. She let herself go as Frank continued to pound her hot pussy. She felt herself being stretched and used. She felt herself becoming wetter and hotter. At that point, she no longer cared if anyone walked in. She didn't care if she was caught. Her employees could have walked in, or her loyal customers, or her best friends, people in the art community- she wouldn't have cared. The only thing on her mind was Frank's cock and her impending orgasm. She cried in pleasure. The red ball gag continued to muffle the noises. She bit down on it when the pleasure became too intense. Her pussy was getting pounded harder. Her body was rocking back and forth in a swaying motion. Please god let me cum already! As if he read her thoughts, Frank reached down to rub her swollen clitoris. He rubbed it in a circular motion, just the way she liked. Thank you! Her clit was being stimulated beyond belief while her pussy was getting owned. Elizabeth's eyes suddenly rolled back. She tried to maintain focus on the door, but she lost all concentration. Her back violently arched against Frank's cock, and her feet shook on the ground, with her toes curling inside of her expensive designer heels. In that moment, she experienced the orgasm of a lifetime. She nearly blacked out in the process. She felt Frank's hard cock plop out of her when he pulled back. He quickly untied the ropes while she was in a semi-conscious state, laying on her stomach. He removed the ball from her mouth and she was quickly regaining her senses. He placed the rope and the gag back inside of the bag, and placed it neatly in her desk drawer. "Are we done?" she slurred. "Does it look like we're done?" he asked rhetorically, gesturing to his hard cock. Frank removed the condom from his cock and looked at her like the answer was so obvious. She knew exactly what he wanted. She wanted the same thing too. She got down on her knees and began to suck. The cock she had been dreaming about for weeks was finally in her mouth. She performed to the best of her abilities to please him. She assumed he wanted a simple blowjob so he could cum. But he wanted more. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and began to pump his cock in her face. Elizabeth quickly realized that he wanted to fuck her mouth. It was new territory for her. Every man she had ever been with was content with her oral sex abilities. Frank wanted more. She did her best to oblige. She relaxed her neck and jaw. She allowed him to fuck her face. She allowed him to go deeper into her throat. Elizabeth made gurgling sounds as her face was being fucked. Mascara ran down her cheeks as the tears overflowed. But she didn't stop. Her main goal was to please the man by whatever it took. And he wanted to be rough with her mouth. He grunted. He was close. She jerked the base of his cock and Frank groaned loudly. He came inside of her mouth. She could barely taste the cum because most of it went straight down her throat, directly to her stomach. She continued stroking and sucking until he was done. When Frank began to pull back and soften, she was finally able to taste his cum, and she liked it. "How did I do?" she asked from her knees, licking her lips. "You're a natural born submissive." Elizabeth stood so they were face to face. "How do I look?" He wiped the excess cum around her chin and put it in her mouth, which she gladly sucked. He used both hands to wipe away the runny mascara on her cheeks, then he wiped the tears away from her eyes. "You look like a new woman," he said. "I feel like one too." "Which is why you need to get back to the crowd. After an orgasm like that, you'll be a better host since you're in a great state of mind." "Thank you. For everything." Frank nodded and opened the door. The gallery was noisy with a room full of people having various conversations. "Do you hear that?" he asked. "It's the sound of a gallery full of art enthusiasts. They're waiting to speak with their gracious and beautiful host." She smiled, "I'm ready." Elizabeth walked through the door with a wetness between her legs. Her vaginal fluids may have dripped down her thighs and onto the floor, but no one would have noticed. Her breath probably smelled like cum, but a sip of wine would have taken care of that. She felt invigorated as she meet with the crowd of art lovers. Bondage had made her a new woman. The End Your votes & comments are appreciated.