“I want you to see what’s in store for you tonight,” he said, and even with his back to her she could hear the smile in his voice. He made a show of opening the box and looking through its contents, sometimes pausing and clicking his tongue or else nodding his head. She had half a mind to break the position and move to shove him, try to make him pick up where he’d left off. But she didn’t know him well, yet: didn’t know how strict he was, or if he might punish her for her impatience by making her wait longer. So, she waited, impatient, attempting to calm the heat still growing in her body despite her long, slow inhales.
He beckoned her over and began to pull items from the box with agonizing slowness. First came candles — three long sticks in red, purple, and black — that he set upon the duvet. Next came two small ping-pong sized balls, that he weighed in one palm. Three different vibrators — an egg-shaped one, a rabbit, a wand. Next, he took out clamps, and clothespins, taking the time to arrange them in neat little rows on the bed while she watched. Something long and tapered, with a flared head and base, that Erin was sure was meant to go into her ass. He lifted out a riding crop with a long, wooden core and a wide leather flap. Finally, he set out a small, steel contraption made of two metal bars with four steel arcs between them; Erin hadn’t ever seen something like it before.
Oliver arranged the toys in a semicircle on the duvet, before returning the box to the closet. When he returned, he draped the backs of his fingers over Erin’s cheek and gently took hold of her jaw, guiding her eyes up to his.
“What do you think?”
Erin’s tongue darted out between her lips to wet them. Her mouth was so dry, her body so tightly wound from arousal and anticipation, that she had to swallow once, hard, before she could speak.
“You know, Oliver,” she said, trying to make her voice sound as calm and mild as his. “You only get to break me once.”
His eyes widened, surprised, in a way that she hoped meant he’d underestimated her. Then they darkened, and her pulse raced. “Break you? That doesn’t seem very nice.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be nice,” Erin said, heat in her cheeks, voice hoarse.
He smiled, coolly, in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then I’d better take my time and really get the most out of it, hadn’t I? Strip.”
There was a part of Erin that really wanted to draw it out and pretend she wasn’t eager; but her whole body buzzed with need and the anticipation of the night. She couldn’t get out of her clothes fast enough, chest rising in shallow breaths as she let down the zipper of her skirt and rolled her panties down her legs. He held his hand out, expectantly, and her face turned scarlet as she dropped the cotton garment into his palm. The bralette came last, shimmied over her head and dropped on the floor with her skirt.
Oliver rubbed the wet gusset of her panties between his fingers, smiling. “Well,” he said, “I suppose I don’t need to ask if you’re excited.”
He stepped up to her, balling the panties in one hand and using his other to run his fingers lightly over her skin — her neck, down across her collarbone and the curve of her shoulder, further down her ribs to her hip. “How do you feel?”
“Excited. Nervous.” Breathless, still, her thoughts screaming at him to stop checking in and just fuck her already.
“Safe?”
“Yes.”
“You remember how to signal if you can’t talk?”
She nodded.
“Show me.”
She did. He smiled.
“Good girl,” he said, quietly. Out of pure impulse to push back and vocally object to the reality that two words could send such a shiver up her spine, Erin opened her mouth to speak; but before she could start, he reached up and casually popped her panties into her mouth.
“Hold,” he said. Automatically, she closed her teeth together around the scrap of fabric, the taste of herself sour and tangy against her tongue.
Oliver tangled his hand into her brown hair and tugged her head back to expose her neck. “You’re so eager,” he murmured against her skin. “You met a strange man at a kink party, let him bring you home, stripped for him, and now you’re gagged and sucking your own wetness off those little cotton panties you wore tonight. You did that all eagerly. Knowing how I approached you at the party. Knowing that I would take my time. Knowing that I’d bring you back here and make you squirm and writhe and ache.”
He turned her body around and held her back against his chest. Her head lolled against his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as his hands explored. With light touches he dragged his fingers around her breasts, down her stomach, over her hips. His hands guided her legs apart, fingers trailing on her inner thighs, closer and closer to where she wanted him before he glided them out again. She groaned, pushing against him, arching into the hardness in his pants, breathing fast and shallow through her nose.
“I want you to pick a few things off the bed,” he said, a rough edge to his voice as his hands came down to grab and still her hips. Through a haze of arousal, Erin realized that she had been rocking them back against him, arching and tucking, grinding her pussy on nothing while his fingers teased the skin of her inner thighs. She bit back a whine, wanting to grab his hands and thrust them between her legs. But then he was stepping back from her, leaving her slightly dazed and unsteady. She blinked several times before stepping toward the bed.
Her eyes trailed over the various toys and implements that Oliver had laid out, and for the first time, Erin became aware of how her mouth must have looked — distended and stuffed with her own panties. This should have embarrassed her, but working her tongue against her own taste, she felt a growing ache between her legs.
It wasn’t long before she had made her choices, and pulled them forward for him to see. The plug, the egg vibrator, the crop, and the small, strange silver contraption that reminded her of a cookie cutter. He smiled, picking up the last one and weighing it in his hand. “Interesting. Do you know what this is?”
Erin shook her head, and he laughed. “Well, you’ll find out soon enough.”
He disappeared into another room and emerged again with a towel that he laid out on the floor, along with a small bottle of lube and Erin’s chosen items. He gestured for her to join him, and she sank down to her knees. He reached forward and took her panties from her mouth, tossing them aside.
“I’m not going to restrain you tonight, Erin. Restraints give you an out, don’t you think? You get to pretend you’re helpless to what’s happening to you. But I don’t think that’s very interesting.” He pushed her torso back, until she was lying on the ground, with him kneeling between her spread legs. Erin tossed her arms over her face, and he dragged them from her, telling her gently to put them over her head.
“If you move, you’ll be punished. If you try to get away, you’ll be punished. If you come without permission, you’ll be punished.” He trailed his hands softly up her body, then suddenly grasped both of her nipples and tweaked them. Erin yelped and twisted to one side. He chuckled.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Oliver said, slapping her breast with his open palm. “What did I just say?”
Erin felt the flash of heat on her breast, and put herself back into position, arms over her head. Oliver slowly ran his hands over her thighs and her hips, coaxing her back from the pain until she shivered and arched up toward him, offering herself to his touch.
“Keep this still, too,” he said, his palm pressing down on her hips. As he began to trail his fingers on either side of her lips, she realized just how exposed she was. How obscene she must have looked, with her legs spread around him, pussy pulsing and gushing under his gaze. Her nipples were hard pebbles against her chest, sensitized from the pain. It was the most stimulation he’d given them all night, and she wanted to bring her hands down to gently play with them until the lingering sting drained away to pleasure. Keeping her body still meant focusing — she hadn’t realized just how strong the urge to rock her hips was until she had to actively avoid it. She hadn’t realized just how much freedom and pleasure there was in pushing down and grinding against someone’s fingers. She longed for it, now that it was out of her grasp.
With one hand, he spread her pussy, dipping down into her wetness — God, she was so fucking wet — before gently sliding them up and down, up and down along the sides of her clit, barely grazing it with each pass. The other gently started to tease and play with a nipple. A little, breathless moan escaped her lips. His touch was gentle enough that she felt herself relax, thinking about how good it would feel if she could just arch her chest into his hand.
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