The New Year’s party was winding down and Celia knew she was in no shape to drive. Her friends she was partying with had gone the way of the four winds, leaving her alone in a sequined blue mini-dress and with plenty of drunken men, and a couple of women, that wanted to see that dress balled up beside their bed. She took a deep breath to take away the fuzziness in her head and dug out her cell to page an Uber. She would come back tomorrow to pick up her little Hyundai at the parking garage. Right now she just wanted to be out of there.
It was still warm out and the slight breeze off the ocean felt good. Very little of the party had spilled outside the club, leaving the slight Asian woman pretty much to herself. Her phone buzzed with the message that the Uber driver was on his way and should be there shortly.
“Great,” she said to herself, wanting to get away from the thumping bass coming from inside.
Unsteadily, Celia made it over to a small garden wall in front of the club and sat down. The breeze was rustling the palm fronds above her as she stared at the neon-stippled skyline. Her apartment was somewhere over there and soon she would be cocooned in her own bed to recover from tonight’s champagne-soaked festivities.
Several cars came and went before one stopped and her phone dinged with the text that her Uber was here. Celia started towards the car and froze. She knew the guy... Trevor, wasn’t it? Trent? Something like that. They had a two or three week fling a few months back, then he started to get possessive and she called it quits. This was going to be awkward but Celia needed the ride.
“Celia?” he asked, a movie-star grin brightening his face.
“Yea,” she gave him a nervous smile. He wasn’t bad looking; A bit taller than her with dark blonde hair and dark eyes, but...
“It’s Tracy... Trace, remember?”
“Oh, hi, Trace,” she replied.
“Been a little while,” he said, opening the back door to his car.
“Yes it has,” Celia said, easing herself inside, hoping the conversation would end.
He closed her door and climbed into the driver’s seat; looking back and grinning that grin.
“You are looking as beautiful as ever, Celia. How did I ever let you get away?”
“It just happened,” she replied, pretending to look through her purse to avoid eye contact.
“I guess. Watcha looking for?”
“Some aspirin,” she lied, “I have a huge fucking headache.”
And he is sitting right in front of me, Celia thought to herself. All she wanted now was for this night to end as soon as possible with her curled up under her sheets.
“I think I have some,” Trace said as he opened up the glove box. Moments later he handed her a couple of white pills and a small bottle of water.
Celia didn’t argue. She muttered a thank you and swallowed the aspirin with a couple of swigs of water. She fastened her safety belt and settled in for the ride to her apartment praying Trace wouldn’t fill the ride with chatter.
It wasn’t more than a couple of miles before she fell asleep.
Trace kept glancing back in his rearview mirror to make sure his beauty was really sleeping. The little sleeping pills had done their job nicely. He had long dreamed and prepared for just this opportunity. The fact he knew Celia was even better. She was the kind of woman he had always wanted: beautiful and intelligent. She was just a little too independent for his taste. But he knew he could fix that with a little bit of that old Tracy charm.
The drive through the city was uneventful. There was still a lot of traffic for as late as it was but that was to be expected for New Year’s. No one even gave him a second look.
He pulled up in front of her apartment and with a little effort, pulled her out. She was a bit groggy and he shouldered most of her small frame as he carried her through the lobby and to the elevators. His lies were in place if anyone should ask but he didn’t see a soul as they entered the elevator.
Celia lived on the twenty-second floor. During their brief relationship, he had been to her apartment a couple of times. He took her straight to her apartment door and fumbled through her small purse to find Celia’s keys. Moments later, they were inside. He would get her ready and in bed then be back later to fully enjoy her charms.
Celia really needed to go pee. She could see the toilet through the polished steel stall doorway but she couldn’t get there. She tried to move; to just walk over there, but her legs wouldn’t move. She could feel herself trickling no matter how hard she tried...
The dream evaporated, and the Asian girl woke up. She still needed to pee but she still couldn’t move. In a panic, she looked around. She was in her bed in her studio apartment with no idea how she got there. Her arms were pinned in back of her with white nylon rope and each of her ankles were tied to her thighs. Celia saw that she was wearing her wedding-white garter belt and stockings. Her filmy-lace thong barely covered her soft nest. Her jaws ached slightly from a ball strapped inside her mouth.
Beside her bed was an unopened bottle of champagne nestled in a clear bucket of ice. She threw herself at her bindings; bucking and thrashing and screaming into her gag, but nothing gave and no one heard. There was some sort of leather collar around her throat and the attached chain leash was fastened around her wooden-slat headboard. There were ropes also tightly wrapped above and below her chest, framing her small breasts.
Celia was stuck and she fucking needed to go pee.
The blinds to her apartment were partially open and Celia could see the first rusty tinges of the dawn starting to appear over the bay. She was trying to remember last night but all that floated back were parts and pieces of the New Year’s Eve party. She vaguely remembered calling a cab...
The sound of her door unlocking took Celia away from her thoughts. She yelled into her gag as she heard the door open then close. A few moments later Tracy peeked around the corner.
“I see my little sleeping beauty is awake,” he smiled.
Everything came back to her in a flood: she had called an Uber and the driver was Trace.
He sat down beside her on the bed and brushed some stray hair away from her face, his eyes locked onto hers.
“I love you, you know,” he said softly, “Ever since our first date I knew you would be mine to have and to hold.”
Celia screamed into her gag again and fought against her bindings. She could not believe this was happening.
“I know you are pissed right now and you have every right to be but I am sure that you’ll see that this is what you really want.”
The young woman screamed yet again into her ball-gag.
“You should see yourself right now. You are so beautiful and helpless, just the way it is supposed to be,” Trace said as he gave her a light kiss on her forehead.
“I brought something just for you,” he whispered into her ear before getting up and disappearing around the corner.
A few minutes later, he appeared around the corner with a small bouquet of virgin white roses in a vase. He carefully set the vase down on her nightstand and picked out a perfect one. The petals had not fully opened yet. He held the blossom underneath her nose, its scent full and rich.
Gently, Tracy ran the rose down over his captive’s gagged lips, her collared neck and between her breasts before taking it and dipping the blossom in the ice bucket holding the champagne.
Celia still struggled but she knew she couldn’t get loose. She was more mesmerized by what her captor was doing and what she feared he would do. Trace pulled the rose out of the bucket, its petals dripping with melted ice-water. Celia squealed as the cold droplets of water were dribbled over her nipples as she tried to squirm away.
Tracy just smiled that Hollywood smile of his as he dipped the rose in the bucket again. Celia cringed as he caressed her hardened nipples with the icy, white blossom; eliciting more squeals and squirms as she squeezed her eyes shut.
The warmth of his tongue came as a shock as he leaned over her, holding her arms as he licked circles around one nipple and then the other.
Despite everything, Celia was beginning to be aroused by his attentions. Little flashes of pleasure ran through her as he tenderly suckled her areolas, causing her to mewl in her gag.
“That’s it,” he whispered into her ear, “Purr for me.”
Celia humphed into the gag as she struggled against him, embarrassed that her body was betraying her. However, Tracy climbed on top of her, pinning her to her bed. She could feel his erection straining in his slacks against the flat of her stomach as he leaned forward again to look into her ebon eyes.
“I love the way you feel against me when you struggle,” he said quietly before he kissed her on her gagged lips.
Celia’s writhing slowed but did not stop. She felt his kisses slowly trailing down over her collar, between her breasts and past her navel until he reached the edge of her lace thong.
The young woman held her breath for what seemed like an eternity before feeling him get up. Somewhere down in the most primal part of her soul, she wanted him to continue further...
“Time to put you in the dark, my pet,” Tracy said as he produced a white leather blindfold.
“Nnnnuuugh!” Celia shouted into her gag as she shook her head, but the blindfold went on anyway, sealing her into her own private darkness.
Her captor’s warm hands began kneading her breasts, his fingers occasionally pinching her nipples and sending ripples of bliss through her. Her body began to respond to his touches in an almost animalistic way. An orgasm was slowly building inside her.
Then his hands left her.
Celia screamed and bucked in shock as Trace pushed an ice cube against her lace-covered sex. He pinned her again as he rubbed the melting cube up and down her slit, soaking the lace.
He stopped.
Celia felt the thong being pulled aside, exposing her puss. His finger slowly traced itself between her lips to her clit. White-hot pleasure roared through her as he gently pinched her pearl.
“AAAAAAAAA!” she screamed as the ice cube was pressed against her clit.
The heat of his tongue replaced the burning of the ice, sending another roar of bliss through her. His tongue lapped up and down her slit and reamed around her clit. Celia could feel two tides rising inside of her...the need to cum and the need to pee. She couldn’t stave off either.
Tracy saw her starting to trickle and grabbed the waste can from beside her bed. He helped her up until she was kneeling and placed the porcelain waste can between her legs.
Celia let go, embarrassed and angry that even the basic need to relieve herself was in the hands of Trace. It seemed like she peed forever knowing that every second he was watching her. After Celia was finished, she felt him wipe her clean with a cloth and remove the waste can.
Gently Trace pulled her thong down her thighs. The cool air of the apartment made Celia hyper-aware of her exposed sex. His fingers caressed through the fur above her puss, inching downward until they found her slit again.
She gasped as he eased his finger slowly inside her. She rocked her hips as he began to stroke in and out of her. Her moans matched her rhythm as ripples of ecstasy whorled within her, threatening to drown her in pure bliss.
Then he stopped.
He traced his finger beneath her nose and she could smell her own arousal.
“You love this,” he whispered, “Don’t you, my lovely bride?”
His words crushed her. Here she was being bound and raped and she wanted it; even desired it.
She felt him gently moulded her left nipple before she felt the pinch of the clamp. It was almost painful and it pulled on her nip as if it were weighted. He repeated the process on her right nipple as well, its tug feeding the rapturous torrent rushing through her.
Trace moved behind her and pressed her back and Celia bent herself forward until her forehead rested against her sheets. She unconsciously opened her thighs as well. He began to massage her again but avoided touching her clit even when she moaned and tried to press herself against him.
Celia screamed again as he pressed another cube against her clit. She tried to clamp her thigh shut but his knees were preventing her from closing her legs. She thrashed and squirmed but he continued to force the cube home.
The bound woman almost cried when he took the cube away and began to rub her pearl.
“Do not cum, my pet,” he ordered softly.
Celia could feel Trace position himself behind her, the tip of his cock pushing at the petals of her sex. Grabbing her hips, he eased himself inside her fully before starting to thrust in and out of her.
His penis felt like a brand inside her as his pace quickened. The weighted clamps pulled at her nips adding to the cresting wave that was about to consume her.
“Do not cum.”
The young woman tried to fight her orgasm but it was threatening to burst through and engulf her.
“Are you mine?” he asked. ”To have and to hold?”
Celia moaned through her gag.
“Answer me!”
She nodded her head, moaning yes.
“Cum.”
Celia thrashed and writhed as pure bliss roiled up and devoured her. He pushed himself inside her and held and she felt his cum filling her. She milked him the best she could before she felt him pull out of her. Exhausted, Celia rolled over onto her side panting.
They both lay there quietly, him slowly caressing her skin with his fingertips and softly kissing her cheek, her, slowly recovering her breath and purring at his touch. The smell of the roses mingled with the smell of sex and Celia wondered if this honeymoon was over or had it only just begun.