Friday! weekend, I thought.
I had been invited by a friend to visit an exhibition with her. Around 7 p.m. the doorbell rang. It was the taxi driver. On the drive to the venue, I tried to find out more, but my acquaintance would not come out with the language. I pondered what it could be. ‘A picture gallery or sculptures, modern art or even this exhibition in which prepared, real bodies are shown?’ I shuddered at the thought.
The taxi turned into a backyard and stopped in front of an old iron gate. ‘Where did she take me?’ I thought. It followed a long flight of stairs down. Anxiety spread through me and I automatically grabbed her hand. Mental soft music began to reach my ears and the trepidation eased somewhat. The whole room was bathed in a dim light and a half-dressed waitress offered me a glass of bubbly.
I still sorted my thoughts and let the room continue to affect me. Some of the people around me were very well-dressed. Many women wore a touch of nothing. Silk dresses where you could see the shapely curves or long, semi-transparent evening dresses. I felt completely out of place in my jeans and t-shirt, but my friend continued to pull me across the room.
“Come along. I want to introduce you to someone.” “Yes, I’m coming. Don’t pull my hand like that.” I snorted back. She pointed to a handsome man my age. “This is John. John, this is Angela.” I shook his hand and smiled.
After a short greeting and a chat, we followed John behind the scenes. I wondered what I was doing here. My gaze wandered over the tables and my eyes saw ropes, snap hooks and metal rings. From very small to the max. John talked like hell and explained to me what all the paraphernalia are for. I noticed at that moment how John looked me up and down and then he asked directly. “Angela, would you like to be my model?”
My eyes widened and I was speechless for a few seconds. I looked around again with a long look at the tables and nodded. “Yeah, why not. What do I have to do exactly, John?” Two thoughts further on, I already knew what it would be about. “Come on Angela, I’ll show you where to undress.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me away. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m very experienced and I’ve received a lot of praise for my artwork.” I looked into John’s eyes a little uncertainly in the changing room, but I noticed how he calmed me down with his mere presence. “Put on the black thong and stick the pads on your nipples. I’ll come get you in about 10 minutes.” I nodded and John left me alone.
The curtain jerked open. “Are you ready Angela?” “Yes, we can start,” I answered, even though my stomach was queasy. The corridor stretched a few meters until I was pushed into a cone of light by John. He whispered to me, “Stand on the pedestal. Arms and legs straight, away from the body.” His voice was soft and took away my last feeling of anxiety. I looked into the semi-dark room, and saw people looking at the finished works of art, but I couldn’t see any faces.
John stepped behind me and began measuring ropes that were lined up next to the dais. He doubled the rope around my right ankle and tied it with a knot. The rope felt soft despite being tight around the ankle. John’s words returned to my mind. “You need special ropes for bondage. They must be twisted well and not pinch the skin when knotting.”
John pulled me out of my thoughts: “Angela, please look straight out!” I immediately followed his instructions and an unknown feeling spread through me. ‘Did I like his tone? I don’t normally let anyone tell me anything, do I?’ The hairs on the back of my neck started to stand up and the tingling penetrated my body more and more. Inwardly I urged John to “Go ahead. I like it when you tie me up with ropes.” The second rope was looped around my left ankle and I felt the tingling reach my inner core. ‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘What’s the matter with me? Could it be that this bondage show made me horny?’
My juice collected in my middle, which was only prevented from penetrating to the outside by the thin string. Ropes at the knees followed. John got up and by accident brushed my nipple, causing the nipple to stand up. Partly I was scared of myself and what was going on inside me, partly I wanted more of it. The more ropes wrapped around my body, the freer I felt. I didn’t have to worry about being tense.
A look at my Lord. He had freed his cock from his pants and was massaging it hard, drops of pleasure glistening in the dim light. “Princess, are you all right?” he finally asked. I wanted to signal NO by swinging my eyes back and forth, but his little bitch was allowed to continue tormenting me. I wanted to come, now! In this second!
I just closed my eyes now, concentrating on not cumming and hoping the pleasure punishment would be over soon. Certainly, I would no longer play myself if I was alone.
Completely caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice right away how the bitch and my master swapped places. The cock gag rocked back and forth slightly as the bitch got up and walked to the chair. I would have loved to spit out this gag, right in my master’s face. My Lord grabbed the leg brace, pushed it up and spread my legs as far as possible. I cried out briefly, followed by a few hard smacks on my ass with the flat of my hand. I wouldn’t last long until my climax would end in a huge explosion.
He penetrated me powerfully and after the third or fourth push nothing worked anymore. I looked at him pleadingly, asking permission to come. “Oh, no my naughty princess. No coming!” A few minutes later he pulled out of me and squirted his juice on my chest and face. “Clean them up and free them from their bonds.” came his last instruction to the bitch before he disappeared into the bathroom himself.
20 minutes later I was finally alone with him. He held me lovingly in his arms and whispered softly: “Don’t play yourself, not even when you’re alone, understand?!” I nodded to him in understanding. “Yes, sir understood. Thank you for the appropriate punishment.”
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