5 comments/ 6800 views/ 19 favorites In Katie's Room Pt. 01 By: JackBandit I was in the library when I got Katie's message. I saw it just as I hit "Save" on my Dostoevsky essay and flipped over to Facebook for a brief mental diversion. We both worked long hours in our off-campus jobs, and we couldn't always see each other in-between study sessions during the week. The occasional flirty message was good for us; it reminded us that we were in each other's thoughts, and it was a sweet little appetizer for our traditional rendezvous at the end of the week. This one seemed innocent enough, though: "Can I borrow your Economics textbook? The apartment's open. My roommate can let you in if you want to drop it off there." Simple enough. I'd had my face buried in a Norton Anthology since 10 that morning. I could use a distraction. I grabbed the Economics book and hopped a city bus to Katie's apartment on the East side of town. It was 5 o'clock, and the sun was coming down behind the buildings downtown. I didn't bother to question why Katie was busy on a Friday night. She was in her third year as a Poli-Sci major, and had just managed to score her first position as a campaign assistant for a local alderman running for State Representative. These days, she spent most of her evenings manning a phone bank and subsisting on instant coffee. When we did get together, she always tried to make it worth my while—no matter how exhausted she was. Katie's apartment was a charming little walk-up with potted flowers on every windowsill. It wasn't a huge place, but Katie always loved the area. If I'm gonna get involved in politics, she always said, I might as well learn to love my neighborhood first. Everything starts local. I walked up the second floor and found my way to Apartment 232. Always one for a joke, Katie had left a welcome mat on the doorstep with the words "STAY OUT!" written in bold red letters. I thought of her when I saw it, and I smiled to myself. I knocked on the door three times. As soon as it opened, all thoughts of Katie temporarily evaporated. The woman at the door had hair the color of cinnamon, which fell around her face in a waterfall of elegant ringlets, caught at the back of her head in a neat knot. She looked up at me and smiled shyly, and I stared up into eyes like cut sapphires. Her long white shirt, patterned with musical notes, tantalizingly hid the contours of her slim, girlish frame—all but her legs, in tight black leggings. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted electric blue. I caught myself staring at her feet just a moment longer than I should have, and my eyes snapped right back up to meet her face again. Amused, she raised an eyebrow. "Hey there," she said, in a drawling New Zealand accent. "You must be the one Katie can't shut up about." I shrugged, my face impassive. "I guess," I said. "Not like I can keep track of all her boys on the side." She gestured inside, and stood aside from the door. "Come on in," she said. "I'm Sarah, by the way. Just got settled in this semester. If I like it here, maybe I'll stick around." As I walked into the apartment, I noticed Sarah slip her index finger into her mouth to suck off an errant speck of blue frosting. A cake sat on the nearby table, frosted with that same blue frosting. "I didn't forget Katie's birthday, did I?" I asked. Sarah smiled. "Not hers. Mine. A few of my mates back in Auckland mailed me a cake and some cards," she said. "Sorry," I said. "If I'd known, me and Katie would have done something for you." She waved me off. "It's fine. I wasn't gonna make a big thing out of it. I figured I'd hit the bar downtown. I needed some time to myself anyway. Things have been crazy in the studio lately." "Studio?" I asked. "You do broadcasts or something?" She gave a bashful smile. "Hardly. I'm a dancer. All my life. Jazz, tap, modern, ballet... You name it. That's how I wound up here. The conservatory's famous." As she said it, I noticed a couple of framed photos on the wall behind her. One photo showed Sarah in the middle of a flawless grand jeté, her longs legs splayed out under her pink tutu as she sailed gracefully through the air, her cinnamon-red hair pinned above her head in a cute bun. The other was a playful candid photo that showed her bent over a ballet barre in the same tutu, leaning over just far enough to expose her white panties, which hugged her well-rounded bottom perfectly. Again, I caught myself staring just a little too long. Hell, nothing wrong with gawking at a picture... "Katie's room's just that way," Sarah said, pointing down the hall. "She said you might be dropping off her book. She told me to tell you to leave it on her bed. She, uh... She was pretty particular about that, actually." I raised an eyebrow, and Sarah shrugged. "I know, it sounded a little off to me too," Sarah said. "Whatever. Katie's funny like that sometimes. I don't always understand how her mind works." I wanted to believe her. But the idea of waltzing into Katie's room when she wasn't there made me nervous. Sarah must have sensed my apprehension. She gave another dismissive wave of the hand. "It's fine, love. It's Katie's room, not King Solomon's Temple. Go right in." It seemed so simple. Just leave the book on her bed. Nothing lascivious about that. So why did I feel a funny little prickle at the small of my back? This would be the first time I'd be setting foot in Katie's room. We'd made love just three times since we'd started dating. But each time before, we'd done it in my apartment. This was mysterious territory for me. I shrugged it off. Sometimes my nerves get the best of me. I learn to ignore them when I need to. I left Sarah behind in the living room, walked down the hall, and opened the door that waited at the end. Katie's tastes ran towards minimalism: her white walls were bare, but they contrasted nicely with the angular black furniture. She had a desk strewn with notebooks and election flyers, a bookshelf crammed with paperback novels, and single extra chair leaning against the wall. She told me to tell you to leave it on her bed, Sarah had said. I looked towards the bed, and an unexpected sight immediately caught my eye. The sheets and blanket on her bed were midnight blue. Against those dark sheets, it was impossible to miss the white slip of paper sitting on top. It was folded up neatly, and one word was written on it in bold black letters: "DAVID". Katie left me a surprise note? The girl liked to flirt, but I'd always assumed that she was above coy romantic games. Still, the note intrigued me. I couldn't ignore a note with my name on it, after all. My errand forgotten, I dropped the textbook on the ground and unfolded the note. First, there was a lengthy message scrawled out in black pen. Katie had written as small as possible, as if she was desperate to cram in every word. And under her message, I could see some kind of numbered list. This was a first. What the hell was Katie playing at? I started reading at the top of the note: "Hey David. Are you sitting comfortably? If not, feel free to take a seat on the bed. I don't mind. Confession time: you can keep your Economics book, if you want. I borrowed one from a friend of mine last week. Sorry about all the cloak-and-dagger shenanigans, but I didn't want to shock you too much with a message out of the blue. So from here on out, I'll be honest with you. Listen, David... I remember that little 'confession' that you made to me, that second time I came over to your apartment. I remember what you told me about your 'tendencies.' I remember, and I've been thinking for a while about what you told me." Taken aback, I stopped in the middle of my reading. I knew exactly what she meant. The second time we'd gotten together at my apartment, we'd both had a few more drinks than we'd planned on. We needed to de-stress, so we were both a little more talkative than usual. Katie told me about her first high school crush, and she told me which professors she'd sleep with if she had a chance. And then I told her about the fantasies that I'd had since I hit puberty. All my life, I've dreamed about being Dominated by a beautiful woman. The details about my fantasies have changed with time, but some stay the same. Pain. Submission. Helplessness. Surrendering power. Worshipping women like Goddesses. Even after five serious relationships, I'd still never met an openly dominant woman. I had to be careful about coming clean about my tendencies. I was a skinny kid from Boston who was studying to teach Literature; I had enough people pegging me as "weak" without admitting that I fantasized about being spanked. "I know it's never easy to admit that you have a submissive streak. Hell, if I was like you, I don't know if I'd ever be able to admit it either. But I want you to know right now that I don't respect you any less. And I think it's time that I rewarded your trust in me. You've got a taste for submission? Well, I've got a taste for Domination. I don't usually admit that to guys until we've been serious for a while. But I think you're ready for my darker side. I told you I'd be working late at the campaign office tonight, right? Well, that was only half-true. If I got my timing right, you should be reading this at around 5 o'clock. I'll be home in the next hour. If you can handle a night of fun with me, it'll start then." Handle it? Hell, I thought I'd have to ask Katie to go that far with me. I never dreamed that she'd propose the idea herself. "I know we've kept things pretty vanilla so far. If you'd rather not go any farther, this is your chance to back out. Just walk right out the door, and I won't think any less of you. But if you are interested, stay right where you are and follow my instructions." When I read the first item on the list, my heart leaped in my chest. "1. Take off your clothes." Back in the living room, I could still hear Sarah's footsteps creaking on the floorboards. I'd already spent so much time in Katie's room, she must have been getting suspicious. Christ... Did she know? She and Katie were close enough, but would Katie have told her something like that? Katie did always get chatty after a few glasses of wine. I shrugged off the shock and read the next item on the list. When I saw it, I wanted to groan. "2. Seriously, take off your clothes. Now. Don't even bother reading on until you're done. Take off every shred of clothing. I want you bare-ass naked when I get home. If you're too modest for that, everything's off." I tried to stand as still as I could. Hell... There was no way in hell I was stripping with Sarah outside the door. But if I didn't make a sound, maybe she'd forget I was here. No. Bullshit. That was wishful thinking, and I knew it. But against all odds... Close by, I heard the jingling of keys, then the sound of the door swinging open. Sarah must have been gathering up her things and leaving. She did mention heading out to the bar, I remembered. A second later, I heard the front door swing shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of the door locking. I was alone, and locked inside Katie's apartment. Well, that settled it. I didn't have a key. It wasn't like I could leave the front door unlocked. I'd have to wait around for Katie. Just the excuse I needed. I took a deep breath. A full-length mirror was bolted to the nearest wall. Against every rational impulse, I turned to the mirror to look myself over. Stupid. I knew I'd just get more self-conscious if I looked at myself while I undressed. But in spite of it all, I felt excitement mingle with my apprehension. This was my first night of real, true domination. How long would Katie make me wait for her? Knowing her, she'd wait just long enough to make me squirmy. With clumsy fingers, I moved my fingers to the top button of my flannel shirt. It was the first month of winter, and I'd long since packed away my t-shirts and dug out all of my heavy plaid shirts. Katie teased me about them sometimes; she called them my "lumberjack shirts". Slowly, row-by-row, I unbuttoned my shirt and let it hang loose on my shoulders. Underneath my shirt, I could see the thin mat of black hair covering my chest and stomach. Some guys hit the gym every week because they want to look good naked. I do it for stress relief, but I can still appreciate the results. I'm not a bodybuilder, but I'm firm in all the right places. I bench-press just enough to keep my pecs hard, and my upper arms have all the marks of regular weight lifting. I slipped off my shirt, then held it up, folded it into a neat square, and bent down to lay it down at the foot of Katie's bed. Even if I was ready to get steamy with my girlfriend, I still couldn't stop being a neat freak. I wanted to make a good impression; if I left my clothes strewn all over the floor of her bedroom, Katie might just use it as an excuse to be cruel... I bent down to unlace my black Converses, pulled them off, and laid them down next to my folded-up shirt with the socks stuffed inside. When I moved to unbuckle my belt, I felt my hands shaking even more. With that damn mirror in front of me, my bare chest was impossible to ignore. It was double the humiliation; as if it wasn't enough to strip down in Katie's room, I had to do it with my own naked body staring right back at me. Focus, David. Nothing to be scared of, I thought. It's nothing she hasn't seen before. But I knew that was bullshit. Every time we'd made love in my apartment, we'd done it in the dark, and we'd been naked together. This was new: I'd be naked and vulnerable in a well-lit room, with Katie fully clothed, free to look me over at her leisure. Man up, I told myself. At least you know damn well you'll be hard when she sees you... I undid the buttons of my dark-washed jeans, slid them off of my legs with ease, and folded them up. And as I looked myself over, I gave one more deep breath. You always wanted to submit to a woman like Katie, I thought. So give her what she wants. I slid my finger into the elastic waistband of my boxers. Slowly—very slowly—I lowered them, exposing my cock. In the mirror, I watched my circumcised cock twitch and pulse as goosebumps spread over my bare legs and chest. The cold, hard reality of the situation hit me. I was naked and alone in Katie's apartment, with the door locked behind me. It didn't get more vulnerable than that. Or did it? What else did Katie have planned for me? I let my boxers drop down to my ankles, plucked them up, and dropped them down on top of my neatly folded pants and shirt. This time, I didn't bother to fold them. Then I turned back to the note. "3. Are you naked now? Good. I know I'll get an eyeful soon. Now, go to my bedside chest and open the top drawer. You'll find four sets of shackles. They're a perfect fit for this bed. Trust me—you're not the first person I've tried them on. Take them out. You'll need two for your hands, and two for your feet." On wobbly feet, I tiptoed my way across the bedroom to the black wooden chest of drawers by Katie's bedside table. There were just two drawers, so I pulled out the top one—and what I saw just made my cock grow harder. Light glinted on silver chains and shone dully on polished black leather. There were leather shackles attacked to sturdy chains, a shiny red ball gag with a leather strap, a tiny ring of black latex that could only have been a cock ring, and two pairs of wicked-looking handcuffs. Christ... How long had Katie been this well-stocked? I'd always been shy about my submissive side, but I never dreamed that Katie would be this ready to dominate me. "You're not the first person I've tried them on," the note had said. Was I in over my head? Did her taste for domination outstrip my taste for submission? But it didn't matter. If I was going to submit to Katie, I'd need to trust her. So I would. I grabbed the four leather shackles and walked back to the note. There were just two items left. "4. Loop the chains around the bedposts to tie them down. Then lie down in the bed, and strap yourself in. I know you'll need to leave one hand free. That's alright. I'll finish the job when I get in. 5. Wait. If you want to give your cock a little stroke, go right ahead. It's the last chance you'll get for a long time." I swallowed hard. My hands were still shaking. Hell... I thought. Nothing like a strong pair of shackles to keep your hands still. I followed Katie's orders, passing the round leather straps through the metal chains and tying them tightly around each bedpost. Each set of leather cuffs came with a silver buckle, just strong enough to keep them tight. The chains seemed thin and elegant, but I knew that they were more than enough to hold me down. This is it, I thought, looking the bed over. No turning back. But I remembered the last item on Katie's list. As gently as I could, I gripped my half-erect penis in my right hand and ran my fingers up and down the shaft, gently ticking the rim with my thumb. I felt my cock come alive in my hands. The anticipation of it all was more erotic than even the naughtiest foreplay. I knew I'd have my eyes riveted on that goddamn door until Katie walked through it. I planted my bare ass on the bed and rotated around. I leaned forward, grabbed both leather shackles, wrapped them around my ankles, and pulled the buckle tight. Just to test them out, I pulled my ankles as far as I could from the headboard, but found them unyielding. There was no getting out of these things until Katie freed me. But how long would that be? Moment of truth... I laid back and rested my head on the pillow, then reached back to clamp down the nearest set of shackles around my left wrist. I looked up at the mirror. Katie had positioned it perfectly: I had a perfect view of my nude body as I lay back on the bed. In the mirror, I watched my cock as it began to rise again, pointing perfectly up at the ceiling fan. Stay calm, David. You can do this. When I was younger, a shrink taught me to count my breaths in groups of four when I needed to calm myself down. Don't focus on anything else, he always said. Just breathe deep and count your breaths. So I did. In the mirror, I watched my bare chest rise and fall as I breathed in. But that wasn't what caught my attention: my exposed, reddening cock was twitching in time with my heartbeats, becoming so sensitive that I couldn't ignore it. Still, I kept up my breathing, starting my count over every time I reached four. Don't think about the time. Just lie back and wait. It'll all be worth it. I don't know how long I waited until I heard a key turning in the front doorknob. The sound of the door opening was as sweet as a church bell. I heard footsteps—steady and heavy—on the floorboards in the living room, making the floor creek. It seemed like an eternity before I saw the doorknob turn. And then... The door opened, but it wasn't Katie standing in the doorway. Sarah stood there, a smile of sweet contentment on her face, looking down at me like a gambler with a winning hand. In Katie's Room Pt. 02 "I can't believe you fell for that!" she exclaimed. It took a minute for her words to click in my head. "But... Katie! She..." Sarah giggled again, amused at my sheer confusion. "You don't seriously think she'd get you into bed by begging to borrow a textbook, do you? You two should actually write each other love notes once in a while. Maybe then you'd know what her handwriting really looked like." "But the message!" I sputtered. "It's Facebook, honey. You don't have to be a master hacker to get onto your roommate's account. Not when she's dumb enough to leave her laptop lying around." Sarah drew closer. Instinct kicked in. My free right hand shot over to the left side of the bed as I reached for the leather shackle tying my left hand down. Sarah was already way ahead of me: she reached out with both hands and grabbed my right arm as my fingers fumbled with the buckle on the shackle. I felt one of her hands clamp down on my wrist, the other tight around the crook of my arm. With all her might, she pulled my arm towards the right side of the bed—towards the one free shackle. "Uh-uh... You're staying right here," she said. I fought her as long as I could, pulling my arm left as she pulled it right. But it was hopeless, and I knew it. She had two free hands, and I had one. I wrestled with her for at least a minute before she forced my arm down to the bed. As if that wasn't enough, she raised her leg and planted her knee down on my arm, pinning it down as she went to work shackling my wrist. In desperation, I futilely kicked my bound feet, my body trembling helplessly. With my last free limb tightly secured in place, Sarah got down from the bed and looked me over, clicking her tongue with satisfaction. "God damn it..." I moaned. "Why the hell are you doing this?" "'Cause it's my birthday," Sarah said. "I've always wanted to have my very own piece of man-meat at my mercy. Me and Katie share everything in this apartment. I don't see why she should have the cute submissive boy all to herself." "But... But I'm not—!" "You mean you don't want a powerful woman to teach you your place? You don't want to be tied up and flogged and spanked and forced to beg for the right to cum? That's not what you said in all those messages, is it?" For a moment, I thought my heart would stop. "You... You read those?" She smiled. "They're a hell of a read, David. I couldn't resist. Katie really needs to keep a better eye on her computer... I suppose I should thank her, though. Some of those fantasies of yours got me real hot and bothered. You don't know how long I've dreamed of doing this to a man." She knew. Every dirty message that I'd sent to Katie, late at night when I couldn't stop thinking about her. She knew, and she'd use them against me. "Enough about all that, though... You want to see my other birthday present?" I didn't answer. I had a feeling she wouldn't take "No" for an answer. "Stay right there," she said playfully. "Don't go anywhere." As light on her feet as ever, she scampered off into the living room, and came back with that white cardboard gift box that I'd seen earlier. She set it down on the ground, bent down to open it, and pulled out her gift. It was a red leather corset—the color of dried blood—all done up with black lace trim, with silver buckles on the side. She stroked the leather fondly. "I've always wanted one of these. One of my girlfriends back home remembered, God bless her..." She winked down at me, then turned around. Without saying a word, she stripped off her white t-shirt and tossed it to the floor. She wore no bra underneath, giving me a perfect view of her well-muscled back, right down to those two cute dimples above her ass. With the shirt gone, I got a good look at those skintight black leggings that showed off the shape of her toned bottom so damn well. Then she moved her hands downward, gently running her fingers down her slim thighs to draw my gaze. She hooked her thumbs into her leggings and slowly peeled them off, revealing her cute behind a little bit at a time. She wore a pair of black boy-shorts under her leggings, patterned with tiny hot pink skulls-and-crossbones. As she bent down to pull her leggings from her ankles, she stuck her ass out towards me, and her underwear slid down just far enough to give me a tantalizing peek at the crack of her buttocks. I wanted to curse at her. I wanted to beg for mercy. But my gaze was drawn to that perfect butt like a magnet. For now, I was speechless. She stood up straight again, slightly wiggling her hips as she adjusted her boy-shorts and pulled them back up—covering up her exposed crack, but exposing the ample cleavage of her cheeks as she pulled her underwear snug against her butt. Covering her bare breasts with her arm, she twisted around to look back down at me, savoring that glazed look in my eyes as I stared dumbly up at her. Then she turned back around, breathed in deep, and pulled that red leather corset around her midsection, practically giddy with anticipation as she pulled each silver side-buckle tight. A dancer to the core, she could hardly stand still as she buckled herself up; with each strap, she swayed back and forth on her feet, making her ass jiggle ever so slightly. And then she whirled around to face me, twirling gracefully on the ball of one foot. She gave me a good view of that lithe dancer's body, with barely anything left to the imagination. Pushed up in that tight corset, he small breasts practically spilled out, the swell of her cleavage tantalizingly on display. In those immodest little boy-shorts, I could see every inch of her slender legs, right down to her dainty feet with the nails painted electric blue. When she bent down over her array of toys in the drawer, I felt my eyes again drawn irresistibly to her tight little ass—small but round, and oh so firm. Her lips curved in a mischievous smile, and she put a hand to her mouth as a high-pitched giggle escaped. She was so giddy. So joyful. How could someone like this have a sadistic streak? She leaned in close, stepped over my body, and moved to straddle me. I felt goosebumps rise up over my stomach as she leaned in, my midsection quivering with fear. "Well?" she asked coyly. "Are you ready to behave?" If there was any time to fight back, this was it. I thought of Katie's face, and the rest came easy. "You've got no fucking idea what you're doing right now!" I shouted. "As soon as Katie finds out—!" She giggled again. "And you're going to tell her about this, are you?" she challenged. "You're going to tell your sweet girlfriend that you were naked in bed with another woman? I'm sure she'll take that news well." I felt a cold knot in my stomach, my anger turning into fear all over again. "But you... You..." "That's right, darling. I tricked you and took you against your will. But do you think she's gonna believe that? You think she's gonna believe it after I burn that note? After I delete that message? After I let you go and send you on your way? No. You're gonna go back to your life, I'm gonna go back to mine, and you're never gonna breathe a word of this to Katie. And if you ever tell anyone else about this, I'll tell Katie that you begged me to fuck you." She smirked, bit her lip coquettishly, and leaned in close to me until our noses touched. I felt her warm breath on my neck. "But first..." she said, "...I'm gonna have some fun with you." She leaned back again and raised her hand, revealing that tiny black rubber ring that I'd seen in the drawer. Against my will, I felt my eyes widen. No... This was a joke... She couldn't be serious about this... Sarah scooted back until she was straddling my knees. She looked down at my exposed penis, still helplessly twitching with arousal. In spite of herself, she blushed as she looked it over. "Well, would you look at that..." she said, shaking her head. "Are you sure you don't want to do this? Your little friend here says different." I didn't answer. I looked up at the ceiling light and didn't look away. Anything to take my mind off of Sarah's voice and her wicked hands. Just don't think about her. Just lie back and think of Katie. It'll all be over soon. Then Sarah reached down to caress my erect cock, gently pinching it at the base and dragging her long fingernails across my scrotum. Goosebumps rose up all over my naked body, and I twisted in my bonds. And then I felt her slip that tight, tight ring over my cock, sliding it right down to the base. It clenched my dick like a blood-pressure cuff. And against every rational impulse, my goddamn penis just got harder. I felt my anger well up again, pulsing into my trapped cock like some bizarre aphrodisiac. It kept pulsing in time with my heartbeat—but now it seemed to beat harder, and I could feel it so much more. The rush of blood made me light-headed. I felt Sarah running her thumb and forefinger over my cock. It was as if her fingers were electrified; my dangerously engorged cock was suddenly more sensitive to touch than I could ever remember it. I wanted to think about Katie, but I couldn't think of anything but that beating, throbbing tower of an erection. As if from miles away, I heard Sarah's voice. "There we go... Just like I like it: nice and hard. You're gonna stay that way for a while, David. It'll be a long time before I let you cum, so try to hold back." I looked away from the ceiling light, and my eyes locked with her. Through the thickening haze of arousal, I summoned up every last ounce of anger left in me. "You bitch..." I murmured. "You evil fucking cunt..." She removed her fingers from my cock. Absurdly, I half-wished that she'd go back to stroking me. "What's that, darling?" she asked sweetly. My heart pounded and thrummed in my chest. "YOU BITCH!" I screamed. "AS SOON AS I GET OFF OF THIS BED, I'M GONNA STRANGLE YOUR SCRAWNY NECK WITH THESE CHAINS!" My body trembled—half with anger, half with fear. Sarah looked down at me, barely fazed. At best, she looked faintly disappointed in me. "Oh, David... And here I was, hoping for a romantic night." I couldn't punch her in the jaw. I couldn't kick her in the stomach. But there was one thing I could do. I gathered up a wad of saliva in my mouth, hauled back, and spat in her face at hard as I could. My spittle caught her right in her left cheek. For a moment, she seemed shocked. She sat there, silent as my spit dripped from her cheek onto the bed sheets. She didn't bother to wipe it away. Slowly, her brow furrowed with repressed anger. But she had all the body control of a dancer: she didn't tremble, she didn't twitch, and she didn't turn red. Suddenly, I remembered how vulnerable I was. "Oh, David..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're really gonna regret that." She scooted forward and leaned over to rummage through the drawer, pressing her breasts up close to my face. Then she drew herself back up and removed her hand from the drawer, and I saw that shiny red ball gag in her hands. "You might as well not bother fighting. You're gonna be tied to that bed as long as I want you there. But I can make it easy, or I can make it Hell on Earth. It's all up to you," she said. This is really happening, I thought. There's getting out. Too late, I realized that my mouth was wide open as I gaped up at her. Exactly like she wanted. With one hand, she reached down to pry my jaw further open. With the other, she shoved the ball gag into my mouth, pressing it down right on top of my tongue. Roughly, she grabbed the black leather strap and pulled it tight around the back of my head. I tried to spit it out, rebelling against the foul taste of foam rubber; I thrashed my head from side to side to shake it off, but it was no use. "It's a shame..." Sarah said. "I love hearing a man beg for mercy. But you can still scream for me, can't you?" She slid off of my body and moved to stand up. I breathed deep through my nose and tried to slow down my heartbeat, but I could barely exhale through my mouth with the ball gag pressing down on my tongue. She's a tease, that's all, I thought. She couldn't hurt a fly. Sarah put a hand to her hip as she looked through the array of toys in the drawer, contemplating my fate. "I suppose I can't leave any permanent marks on your body, can I? Katie might see the scars. And I would love to spank that cute little bottom of yours... But I'd have to untie you and flip you over. Can't have you getting free..." She looked down at me. I tried to look away, but our eyes met. "Any suggestions, pet?" she asked mischievously, though she knew I couldn't answer. She looked back down into to drawer, and her eyes sparkled as she spotted a toy she liked. "Now here's the thing!" she exclaimed. She pulled out a pair of shiny metal clamps, attached to each other by a little silver chain. The clamps had sharp, jagged edges, but the dainty silver chain gave them a disarming appearance, like you could find them in a display case at a jewelry store. "Katie won't notice if your nipples are a bit redder than usual, now will she?" Sarah asked innocently. As I realized what she was planning, I let out an instinctive moan. I wanted to cry out "No!" in protest, but the ball gag muffled my cries for mercy. Instead, my words came out as inarticulate grunts. "Ungh... Ungh... Ungh..." Sarah's face lit up as she heard me. She looked down at me again, a grin on her face. "It talks, does it?" she mocked. "But does it scream, I wonder?" She winked again. She pressed one hand to my chest, to hold my body steady. With her other hand, she held open the jagged-edged clamp with thumb and forefinger, and moved it towards my left nipple. I knew it was no use, but I had to fight her. I squirmed, I wiggled, and I kicked my legs, futilely struggling to flip myself over and hide my nipples from those wicked metal clamps. With her free hand, Sarah pressed down harder on my chest. "Hold still, damn it!" she chastised me, more annoyed than angry. I knew that I could never handle it if I looked at her as she put the clamps on. So I looked away from her cherubic face, and found myself staring right at my penis, still tightly in the grip of Sarah's ring. As my heart sped up with fear, I watched my cock pulse harder and faster, throbbing with forced arousal. Just do it... I thought. Just fucking do it already... The clamp sent a jolt of pain through my upper body as Sarah clipped it down on my left nipple. I shut my eyes tight and stifled a groan of pain, biting down hard on the ball gag to stay quiet. I opened my eyes again as Sarah stepped over my bound body and moved to straddle me again, absent-mindedly brushing a hand over my engorged cock as she did it. Smirking with contentment, she grabbed the left nipple clamp again. Slowly, very slowly, she began to twist it. That sharp pain in my nipple started all over again, multiplied a hundredfold. This time, I felt the pain spread all across the left side of my midsection, setting my nerves afire. Unconsciously, my left foot wriggled and twitched. "Still think I'm an evil fucking cunt, do you?" Sarah asked, still grinning. "Maybe this will teach you to mind your manners." I didn't think it was possible, but she twisted the clamp even farther, until I was sure that she'd break the skin. Impossibly, I managed to stay silent. But still, Sarah was determined to get at least one good scream out of me: she twisted my nipple in the other direction, now faster than before. This time, a quiet whimper of pain escaped my throat, my voice slightly cracking as I struggled to stay quiet. Sarah's grin broadened. "Come on, David... No need to play the tough guy. You think I'm gonna judge you if you scream? If you want to, go ahead and scream. No one's gonna hear you. Nobody but me." With her left hand still twisting my nipple, she leaned forward and gave me a playful kiss on the tip of my nose. "Nobody's ever gonna know about this, David. Get used to that. For the next hour, you belong to me. If I want to hear you scream, you're gonna scream." Still not satisfied with the pain she'd already inflicted, she began twisting my left nipple back and forth repeatedly—first clockwise, then counterclockwise, then clockwise again. With each jerk of her wrist, I felt my resistance breaking down. I needed to concentrate on something else, but the only sensation stronger than the pain in my nipples was the arousal in my rock-hard cock. The more I focused on my throbbing erection, the more I found myself overcome by Sarah and her coy beauty. I kept flashing back to that picture in the living room—to the sight of Sarah's frilly tutu flying upward as she soared through the air like a nymph, exposing her well-rounded backside in those lacy white cotton panties. A woman like this deserved to be satisfied as she demanded. And on some primal level, I wanted to give her what she desired. No. Bullshit. You love Katie. Just think of Katie. I tore myself away from that idiotic reverie, but I was confronted again by Sarah's face—real and in the flesh—as she loomed above me, smiling sweetly as she savored my expression of slavish agony. With the ceiling light above her, the warm autumn colors in her hair seemed to grow more vibrant. "Come on, David..." she cooed. "It's not so bad, is it? Listen, I'll make you a deal..." Intrigued, I stared deep into her ice-blue eyes as she moved her free hand to tug at the lacy black fringe of her corset. With the gentlest of movements, she pulled her corset downward—just far enough to expose her tiny pink nipples as her pushed-up breasts struggled to escape the tight red leather. Repeating that gesture that I'd seen earlier, she slipped her index finger into her mouth and gently sucked on it. But this time, she removed her moist finger from her mouth and moved it across her exposed nipples in tight circular motions, rubbing her nipples until they hardened. For just one moment, I was grateful for the ball gag. If I didn't have it, I feared that I might end up drooling on the bed sheets. "I'll make you a deal..." she repeated. "You let me play with your nipples, and maybe I'll let you play with mine." With that, she moved her right hand down, grabbed both nipple clamps between thumb and forefinger, and twisted both of them in opposite directions. I was already weakened by that generous peek at Sarah's breasts. When I was hit by this newest spasm of pain in both sides of my chest, I could stay silent no longer. I let out a long, droning moan of pain, which slowly built up to a high-pitched squeal as Sarah mercilessly twisted my nipples. "Unnnnnnnngh..." Sarah giggled. "Katie always told me you had a way with words, David. What's the matter? Can't think straight, all of a sudden?" Finally, she removed her hands from the clamps, and I sighed with relief. Grateful for the brief respite from her torture, I barely noticed that the clamps were still on tight. "Time to try something new..." Sarah said.