Now for something a bit more current. I spent New Year’s Eve (2020) at my sister’s house and when Times Square was lit up on TV and the crowd roared I hugged and kissed my sisters and cousins, nieces and brother-in-law’s and made some calls to a few close friends. One of the calls I made was to Maggie and she was having a party of her own and they were out on the beach dancing and sitting on her patio next to her fire pit.
Maggie and I don’t see each other often but we do manage to get together maybe half a dozen times during the year. So I wasn’t surprised when she asked if I wanted to come for a visit on Friday or Saturday so she could tie me up and tease the ever lovin’ hell out of me. After laughing and telling her she had too much to drink I was just about to wish her happy new year again and say goodbye but, before I could do that, she said something like, “I’ll see you Friday, come around noon”, and she hung up.
Of course I put it down to her being a bit drunk so I didn’t bother calling her back and, by the time I left my sister’s house to go home, I forgot all about the invitation (I don’t drink so my forgetting about the invitation was because I just didn’t think it was “real” because she was, at the very least, “tipsy” and probably wouldn’t remember it anyway).
I was off work that week and on Friday I went to Publix to pick up some groceries. I was at the register checking out when my phone rang and seeing it was from Maggie I figured I’d call her back as soon as I put the bags in my car.
Sitting in the car I returned her call (she hadn’t left a voice mail) and the first thing out of her mouth wasn’t hi, hello, or how are you - no, the first thing out of her mouth was “where the hell are you”?
What do you mean, I asked, and she said I was supposed to be at her place at noon and it was already 2 in the afternoon. Taken a bit by surprise I suddenly realized that I forgot all about it and that, apparently, she didn’t. Sort of lost for words I told her I forgot all about it (I’m not very good at lying) and told her maybe we could meet another time.
That won’t work, she said, I expect you here by 4 at the latest, and she hung up.
Staring at the phone I thought that was rather rude and was about to call her and tell her I wasn’t coming but sat in the car thinking whether I should go or not.
I admit that I am weak kneed when it comes to personal relationships, which, if it isn’t already obvious by my other stories it should be, so I sat, fidgeting, thinking should I go or shouldn’t I go.
Starting the car I drove to my house (about 2 miles from Publix) and was determined to call her and tell her she had some nerve presuming that I would be at her beck and call but as soon as I put the groceries away I packed my tote and was on my way to her house by 3 (she is only about an hour away).
A few minutes from her house (she lives in Treasure Island) I pulled over to a parking area next to the dunes and walked on the short boardwalk so I could stand and look at the water and the people sunning themselves and, despite a bit of a chill, swimming. There was a wonderful cool breeze coming off the Gulf and it felt so refreshing and I was glad that I had stopped because although I was just down the road from Maggie I was still a little upset with myself for giving in to her so easily. But, as always, those thoughts dissipated very quickly and after taking a few deep refreshing breaths I went back to the car and was at Maggie’s maybe 5 minutes later.
Pulled into the driveway, grabbed my bag from the back seat and went to the front of the house. The door was wide open and I could see straight through to the patio where Maggie was sitting and when she looked up she smiled, waved, and I went straight to the patio and after leaning over I gave her a peck on the cheek, told her how wonderful she looked (she really is pretty) and asked how she was.
Much better now, she said, but still angry with me, to which I cleverly replied that she shouldn’t be so upset because I thought she was drunk when she asked (told) me to come and, without blinking those gorgeous green eyes of hers, told me to go into the house, take my clothes off, and kneel by the patio doors.
Now in full “I’m yours to do with as you please mode” I did just that and a couple of minutes later I was kneeling, with my head bowed studying the entrance to the patio; how many blocks there were, how much sand there was, how pretty the tiles in the kitchen were and how excited I was getting.
Always giving me away my nipples, swollen and standing at attention, not only felt the breeze coming into the house but were screaming to be touched, fondled and played with. And those feelings were all too easily being transferred to my puss and I could feel my mound swelling as well.
But, I kept my position (Maggie is the only person I see that requires me to assume “positions” when we are playing) and waited for her to tell me what to do next.
I wanted to touch myself, actually I wanted her to touch me, but I kept my hands on my thighs (oh so close but so damn far) until she finally told me to go upstairs to her bedroom and lay, spread eagle, until she was ready to see me.
Not saying a word I got up and as quickly as I could got on the bed, splayed my arms and legs towards the corners, and lay there, panting, for her. My nipples were hard and I watched them rise and fall with each breath I took. I felt how my puss had become swollen as well and although it would have been easy for me to touch myself I tried not to.
What if she comes upstairs and I don’t see her? What if I can’t stop myself and have an orgasm? What if I was punished for my disobedience?
All these thoughts ran amok in my mind as I touched and stroked and put my fingers inside myself. So much for obeying.
When Maggie came up it was obvious, even to a blind person, that I had “pleasured” myself (probably more than once), and calling me a slut she tied my wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed and, after putting her fingers inside me, making me moan and move against her fingers, she stopped, looked down at me, got on the bed, straddled my tummy, leaned forward and, taking my nipples, she twisted them (none too gently) while crushing my mouth with hers. My tongue moved with hers and I needed her to do more. Yes, I managed to “pleasure” myself but I needed her to do me. I needed her to play with my breasts, caress my sides and tummy, kiss my neck, nibble my ears, run her tongue along my thighs, my clit, my lips, make me come until I beg her to stop.
With my eyes closed I don’t know what her expression(s) were and I hardly heard any of the things she said to me, I was well on my way to another planet and I wasn’t paying a lot attention to anything other than her fingers and mouth and as I was getting so close to coming (again) I started moaning and began to cry out and then, she STOPPED!
I asked her what the hell she was doing and told her to put her fingers back inside me.
Next thing I know, she gets off me (and the bed) and leaves me alone. My hips, still grinding their merry way on the bed were running on solar power and wouldn’t stop gyrating and my puss, now totally swollen and wet (I sometimes squirt), felt only the cold air and as tears began to run down my cheeks I called for her to come back, I tried raising my voice to beg her to come back, I cried some more, and I tried rolling from side to side (as much as possible) but couldn’t do anything to “make myself orgasm”.
Using a calmer voice I called to her but there was no answer. I heard music coming from the patio (which is below her window) and I saw her, in my mind, lounging on the patio, a drink in one hand and a book in the other, sunning herself while enjoying the pitiful sounds I was making.
This was not the way I imagined it would be. I was very horny, I was very wet, my nipples ached, and the witch was busy sunbathing while (perhaps) sipping a mint julip for all I knew. I was not a happy slut.
I’ve no idea how long it was before she came back upstairs but I tried, using my best soft cuddly voice, to apologize and promised I would be a good slut (she prefers slut to slave).
Sort of laughing, she got on the bed next to me, started running her hand over my body from my neck to my waist and as far as the top of my thighs. Her touch made me squiggle and moan and my nipples (hard again) waved to her.
Putting her fingers inside me I immediately responded and tried to drive myself against her hand. But she didn’t allow me to do that. Every time I tried she pulled back and teased me with her fingertips on my clit. When it was obvious (to both of us) that I was getting closer and closer to coming she pulled her fingers out of me, leaned over and kissed me (her tongue felt like a red hot poker) and then, without further ado, got off the bed and told me she would see me later.
I called her a few choice names (bitch was used quite a lot) and just a moment or two later she came back and sat next to me on the bed. Thinking she was going to take pity on me I told her I was sorry for calling her those names and promised, again, that I would be good.
She said something like, “I know you will”, and shoved my panties (and I presumed) hers into my mouth and taking some tape from the bedside table drawer wrapped my mouth so that the tape covered me from just below my nose to the tip of my chin.
Putting her fingers inside me again she asked if I wanted to come and, of course, I screamed “eetthh” “pllllllesze” or something close to that.
Moving them very quickly I felt her fingers curl up inside me and finding what I always think is my “G” spot I became a quivering mound of lust. My nipples shook as I shook, my tummy was scrunched and I could feel my muscles ache from pulling on the rope and trying to move with her hand. When she slowed down I opened my eyes and begged to make me come (glleesse ake nee cmm) – sorry but I really don’t know how to spell the drivel coming out of my mouth.
She stopped. Slowly pulled her fingers out of me. Took my nipple between her fingers and squeezed it. It felt so GOOD! But she stopped, and I needed more.
She got up from the bed and, again, told me she would see me later.
As she was leaving the room I screamed at her, I pulled at the ropes. I bounced on the bed. I cried. I jabbered on and on about how I wanted to kill her (thankfully most of the words were not very intelligible), and I swore that I would be a good slut.
Nothing was achieved. Finally, exhausted, I lay still, panting, my nipples still hard were rising and falling with each breath and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
It could have been 10 minutes, it could have been an hour, I don’t really know how long it was when she came back to me. Sitting next to me she ran her fingers along my side and (all too lightly) stroked the inside of my thigh “just below” my puss. I tried to tell her (again) that I was sorry but she said that (we) were past my being sorry and before she was going to let me have an orgasm I was going to have to do her.
It took maybe less than a second for me to shake my head yes and “mummpphh ess” (I don’t think I am going to try to type that any more).
She stood up, took her shorts off (no panties, so maybe hers were in my mouth?), moved onto the bed so that she was facing my feet and put her puss over my mouth/nose. Sitting back it started to become a little difficult to breathe but once she grabbed my nipples and twisted them I pushed my mouth/nose into her puss and kept moving it side to side, up and down, and every which way between. My nipples were aching, my puss was screaming at me to make her come, my wrists were pulling on the ropes and I could feel my legs trying to pull towards each other as well.
I was starting to slow down, I couldn’t keep that pace up. But every time I did slow down my nipples paid the price and I started moving as rapidly as I could.
Finally, she still sitting on my mouth, she ground herself into me, she rotated on my face and I when her “cheeks” seemed to press themselves on the sides of my face she froze, as though she was some kind of orgasmic statue and didn’t move until she finally started vibrating and I was overloaded by her aroma and wetness. My face was wet she (SQUIRTS A LOT) and as she got off me I felt the cool air refreshing me and I was able to breathe easier. I still needed to come but I knew I had to wait for her.
When she had composed herself she leaned over and kissed my eyes, my nose, my ears, my neck and my gagged mouth. She smiled, gently touched my nipples (oh I needed her so badly) and told me I was a good slut and that she was going to take good care of me.
She got off the bed, turned to me, and said “she would see me later”.
It was getting dark outside, no light was on in the bedroom. I could hear her on the patio listening to music. I heard the voices in my head telling me how I was going to get even with her. How I was going to kill the bitch. All she has to do is come back, give me a few quick flicks of her fingers, and I’ll be a happy slut. Not the totally miserable slut I was at that moment.
How long did I stay like that? Too long!
Sometime later she came back upstairs, showered, then used a washcloth to clean my face, breasts and puss (making me squirm and shake and uselessly beg her to do more) and when she told me she would take my gag off if I promised to be a good slut and not cry out or call her names I quickly nodded and said (I know I said I wouldn’t do this but here goes anyway) “eettht”.
Aside from the fact that I was exhausted, aching, my wrists and ankles hurt, my nipples, still hard, ached too, and my puss, well it was still in the driver’s seat (so to speak) but I knew better than to tell her what “it” thought and when she undid the tape (I hated it pulling my hair too) and pulled that mass out of my mouth I was in heaven and all I could think of doing was saying “thank you” and asked her to please untie me.
She leaned over, her tongue doing spirals in my mouth, sat up, checked my wrists and agreed they had to be untied.
Smiling, I dared not say anything else, I needed to move my arms and my legs and as each tie was undone it was a wonderful feeling. I started to relax and (almost) immediately began thinking of making love with her.
After helping massage my wrists and ankles she had me follow her downstairs to the kitchen. I saw the patio shade was down so no one passing by on the beach would be able to see us. As I sat at the table she made a couple of salads (I was famished) and had a couple of small glasses of water. When we finished we went back upstairs, she told me to take a shower and to be back in the bed in 15 minutes or I would be punished. And I was not to masturbate…
It just isn’t possible (for me) to shower and go to the (bathroom) in 15 minutes but I did my best and when I came back to the bed she was sitting on it, her legs were open, and told me to kneel.
Not needing a tour guide I was licking and sucking and running my tongue over and in her puss as best as I could and it didn’t take very long before she took hold of my hair and pulled me into her. She gave off a wonderfully satisfied scream and now I thought it would be my turn.
Still kneeling, she took a piece of rope off the bed, had me cross my wrists, and tied them together. Then taking the rather long ends of the rope that she didn’t wrap around my wrists she wound them around my neck, pulling my wrists up and just below my chin, and knotted the rope behind my neck.
Helping me up she had me get on the bed and, after fluffing a pillow for me, had me lay down so I could wait for her. Using my best submissive slut tone I thanked her and watched her lay next to me. She pulled a sheet over both of us and after putting her arm under me had me scooch toward her so that we could cuddle (who wanted to cuddle? Not me!)
Get some sleep slut, you took 30 minutes to shower, we have a busy day tomorrow.
Tomorrow? I wasn’t planning on being here tomorrow. This was to be a simple tie me up tie me down make me make you come and you make me come visit.
This was not supposed to be a weekend getaway.
I was frustrated, I groaned, I dared not curse her (out loud), she giggled, told me to go to sleep.
There was no way I was going to fall asleep. My hands couldn’t do anything for me, I still had all this pent up unfulfilled sexual need and she wanted to go to sleep.
When I woke up in the morning she was already gone. I was still tied up and needed to go to the bathroom which I did (and damn the fact I wasn’t going to be able to wipe myself).
Come on sleepy head, she cheerfully quipped when she came back, the day is just starting and you’ve slept way too much. Now come here and let me untie you.
Such a sweetheart, did she really think I didn’t know she was related to the witch that the house fell on?