Blissful Torment

"So, Moira, you did promise you would give it a try," Kathleen said to Moira, "We've arranged for you to meet a friend of ours." The three of them had just defeated a very nice dinner, and were aimlessly walking through the busy nightlife district. Or maybe not quite so aimlessly, Moira was now suspecting. Thomas had been peculiarly particular about which streets they were strolling into.

She made a sour face. "I thought we were joking," she grumbled. "You know I don't like S/M. Some sadist hitting a girl with whips and making her crawl around on her knees and pretend to be a dog. Eww. Awful!"

She could see Thomas roll his eyes, but Kathleen intervened, "Yes, exactly, that's why you should give it a chance, because it's nothing like that at all, as we keep saying! You promised you'd give us a shot to convince you. So we did!"

Moira slumped her shoulders. She was really not looking forward to being mistreated, but she had promised it, and she took her promises seriously. "Okay, okay, so what's it gonna be?"

Kathleen gave her a winning smile, possibly bordering on gloating. 

Thomas pointed at the sign under which they were standing, "This is it."

"The Sin Cave" - Red neon letters. A smaller "welcome" just below it. Tacky.

He opened the heavy wooden door and they entered the club, ending up in what looked like a hotel lobby, if the hotel had been imported from the Victorian era. Red velvet sofas, near-black wooden coffee tables. At first Moira thought it was a gauche display of wealth, but then she realized that the furniture was cobbled together, no single piece matching any other. It looked a bit like an antiquities shop. It could have given the whole room somewhat of a homely feel, possibly reminding one of the tea room of a lord somewhere, if not for the decoration.

The items that adorned the shelves, tables and walls did not evoke a feel of cultured nobility. Glossy photo-books showing naked girls, tightly tied in myriads of rope seemed the least offensive. However the shelves, tables and walls were covered in items such as handcuffs, leather masks or corsets, and a garish selection of sex toys - dildos, plugs, vibrators and whips - came along with that. But the room did not look or smell as if anyone had been doing the dirty here. Sex toys as conversation pieces?

They gave their jackets to a bouncer/receptionist, Thomas and Kathleen exchanging pleasantries, clearly knowing the guy. He waved them onward, telling them that they were being expected.

The hallway kept with the red and black theme, but instead of toys, the walls were hung with erotic art. Not just photos, but proper oil paintings.

"This is Sebastian," Kathleen said, doing a pompous gesture with her arms, like a CEO introducing a new model of car.

Moira critically looked the man over who was getting up from a chair in the hallway, putting his smartphone away. Maybe around 40, dad bod. He was wearing a suit jacket, jeans, dress shirt with the top buttons casually undone, black leather shoes and belt, no tie. He could definitely use a haircut and a shave. So far she wasn't impressed. After all the fanfare, she had expected more.

He stepped forward, and shook her hand. Firm handshake, soft hands, and she begrudgingly admitted that he at least had a friendly smile.

"Hi Moira. Nice to meet you," he said, "your friends, well, our friends, have told me that you feel some curiosity towards our ... hobby?"

She crossed her arms. "Barely. They keep telling me I don't get it, and I should try it before I judge."

His expression turned sceptical, "Did you ever get tied up, or do anything of the sorts?"

Moira scowled. "Of course not. Do I look like a deviant to you?" From the corners of her eyes, she caught Thomas turning away, stifling a laugh. What was so funny about that?!

Sebastian grinned, "Well if enjoying sex is deviant, then I'm pretty sure we are all very, very guilty. Straight to hell and tortured by demons for eternity. Though some people might enjoy that." He winked at Kathleen who avoided his eyes and blushed. She hadn't said a word since meeting Sebastian. Weird.

He still had a disarming smile on his face. "I think I understand the situation," he said, opening the door behind him, "If you would please come with me into the play room?"

With a sigh she stepped inside. The room was strangely bare. Just a single chair, a stained glass window, and heavy curtains on all walls, dampening sounds and giving it a broody atmosphere. In the middle of the room was a massive wooden post with metal hoops and hooks on it.

She eyed it sceptically, but Sebastian was still outside of the door. He was talking to Kathleen.

"You're going to sit here and wait for her, right?"

"I will." She seemed strangely demure.

He turned towards Moira: "I want you to know that your friend is sitting outside the unlocked door, both protecting your privacy against anyone spying on us, and also your safety. You can always call for her if you want an out. Do you trust her?"

Moira was taken aback at both the formality and effort to try to make her feel safe. She did not need that much assurance, right? She grumbled, "Of course I trust her."

"Good," he said, and closed the door.

Suddenly Moira was alone with a man she had just met. She swallowed drily. What had she gotten herself into here? She gave the door a longing look. Should she shout for Kathleen? Her eyes found Sebastian, who was just standing there, still a smile on his face, waiting for something.

He raised one eyebrow. "You okay?" he asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.

"Yeah..." Moira answered, voice slightly hoarse. She cleared her throat, shaking off the anxiety. It was just a fucking closed door, and it wasn't even locked. Sebastian took a seat on the only chair. Even though she was now towering over him, he still looked completely confident and in control. Cocky, even.

She looked around the room, and snidely remarked, "So what's it going to be? Furry costumes and branding irons?"

He chuckled, "Not really my thing, and you don't strike me as the target demographic either."

"You assume you know a lot about me," she scoffed, crossing her arms.

His expression became more serious. "I know a lot about how these things usually go, but I don't know you. So please tell me what you want, or possibly easier, what you don't want. We call this 'limits', and it's very important," Her expression must have been one of complete lack of understanding, so he explained. "You tell me in advance what you don't want to happen, and I will not overstep any boundaries you set, no matter how trivial or arbitrary they might seem."

"So... if I'm going to say that I don't want to get naked, and you are not allowed to slip anything inside my clothes either, then you'll just go with that?" Moira said, voice doubtful.

"Yep, completely. No problem at all," He just shrugged, and the cocky grin returned to his face, "but I am allowed to touch you over your clothing? I'm not going to grope you."

"I... I guess that will be okay," she replied. She had expected much worse when she made the promise.

"Can I use a vibrator on you, again, just over your clothing?" The question came quickly. He must have some sort of plan. She nodded.

"Anything we haven't mentioned?" he asked. still sitting casually in his chair, and yet giving the impression of being in full control.

"Well... no tickling? Oh, and also no pain! No hitting, whipping, biting, or stuff like that," she sputtered, trying to come up with things that seemed horrible but not clearly ridiculous.

"Whoa, please!" he said. "Of course not! I wouldn't dare going for any of the crazy stuff with someone I have just met. That was never even on the table," Sebastian shook his head. "In any case, if you ever want me to stop and open the door, just say the word red. We call that a safe-word. It's unconditional. Just know that when you do, you can't take it back, and I'll let Kathleen in to help me untie you as fast as possible."

"Untie?"

"Yes, Moira, I'm going to tie you up with nylon ropes. It's the B in BDSM: Bondage. Trust me, it's fun," He smirked, then more neutrally asked, "That is okay with you, right?"

She nodded again. This was what she had expected, except without all the asking first.

Sebastian got up from his chair, and moved one of the curtains to the side, revealing a small cabinet. He opened it, took a pair of scissors from it and put them in his pocket. A couple bundles of red rope followed, the first of which he lobbed at Moira, who caught it gracelessly. The rope was as thick as a finger, bright red, and felt soft to the touch.

He came back from his gathering trip, and came up to her. Without showing even the slightest hesitation, he stepped into her personal space from the front, and put his hands on her shoulders. Her gaze met his eyes, brown, gentle, but also intense. It wasn't a rough shove, but a determined push, positioning her with her back against the tall wooden post in the middle of the room.

"Lift your arms above your head," he said, not breaking eye contact. No shouting, no snarling, just a confident order. She followed it. He took the roll of rope from her hands, and undid it, spilling the ends to the floor. As he walked to her side, she turned with him, which made him smirk, and add, "No, you stay like that. Face towards the door. Hold still."

He put the middle of the rope behind her back, and wrapped it around her upper body, above her breasts, then slid the rope through the loop, and came back around in front again, this time below them. He did another three rounds both on top and bottom, then went over her shoulder, and between her breasts, wrapping around the horizontal lines. She felt his hands casually brush over her clothes in places where she wouldn't usually accept it, but he kept true to his promise: no fondling. Suddenly, he pulled the rope taut, and she felt her tits and chest get squeezed. It made her very conscious of what underwear and clothes she was wearing, feeling her skin push into the material. It also made her conscious of how her tits were now jutting out in front.

"Now take your arms back down, and grab the elbow of the left arm with the right hand, and vice versa. ... Yes, exactly like that." He kept tying more rope onto her. She felt it on her wrists, upper arms, shoulders, and sometimes it pulled on her chest harness. It was surprisingly loose, not cutting into her exposed flesh at all. Unable to see behind herself, she only heard the metal hoops of the post rattle as he slid some rope through it, and tied her to it, pulling her close.

When he stepped away, she immediately tried to free her arms, but despite the looseness she could barely move them. As soon as she shifted to one side, the other constricted, making it impossible to undo it. Suddenly she felt completely helpless.

"Oh, thinking about escaping? Bad girl!" He chuckled.

He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her tied up breasts. She squirmed in her bindings, trying to hide herself, to absolutely no avail. It made her feel embarrassed and naked, despite being fully clothed. It was silly.

She glared at him, "So? Do I have to call you master now?"

He shook his head. "Oh no, definitely not. That title is earned, not demanded."

"What, so I have to earn it?" she said, exasperated.

"No, no, sorry, I was not clear," Sebastian shook his head. "The person who has to earn it is me. Well, it's a bit more complicated, but that's the gist." He gave her a serious look. "Don't call anyone master if it feels inappropriate. When the time comes, you will know."

Lecture concluded, he walked behind her again, uncoiling more rope. She felt her right leg gently pulled back to the side of the wooden post, and then tied to it. He did the same to her other leg. The thick post pressed against her butt, and the bondage made it impossible to close her legs. With her feet behind her centre of gravity, she was now leaning forward, and the wood prevented her from shifting backwards to compensate. It made her even more conscious of her breasts getting squeezed as the ropes tightened to hold her in place against gravity's pull.

Wiggling did not help, she could not move her legs or feet at all any more. A range of conflicting feelings hit her. The ropes were biting into her flesh through clothes, but the snugness was also quite comfortable, like a tight embrace. Being off-balance threatened to throw her on her face, but at the same time those same ropes also protected her against toppling over. The same thing was responsible for both her predicament and her safety. She wanted to hate these ropes, but she could not bring herself to do it.

"This is weird," she grumbled. Somehow every part of her body was more significant, more present. The colours in the room seemed more saturated, she could hear her heart or Sebastian's steps so clearly. Every breath she took made her shift and push against the bindings, making it impossible to forget about them.

She could hear him chuckle as he was rummaging around in the cupboard once more. When he returned, he carried a large vibrator in his hand. Moira might not be a sex toy specialist, but even she had seen a the picture of a Magic Wand at some point in her life. She wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

He stood a good distance away from her, looking her in the eyes. She knew she would have made a witty comment, but somehow she found it difficult to focus on anything but the here and now. Nearly casually, Sebastian pushed the vibrator between her legs. The cold rubber rested against her jeans, over her mound. She could not see it, her own bound breasts blocked her view, but she was incredibly aware of the item resting there, quiet, lying in wait like a predator, and she was the prey, already ensnared, without a chance to escape.

He flipped the switch. The motor was loud, but the sensation drowned out the noise. Not a high pitched wail like cheap tiny vibes, but a low rumble, like a washing machine during the spin cycle. Within moments, she felt it throughout all her abdomen, from thighs up to her belly. 

The moan she let out surprised her. She had not realized that she'd been holding her breath in anticipation. It felt great - delightful even. Moira focused on Sebastian's face, and saw him intently watching her, the now familiar smirk playing over his eyes. The way he looked at her made her feel exposed, embarrassed. Face blushing, she turned it away from him, and closed her eyes.

As if to acknowledge it, he pressed the vibe harder into her crotch. Moira stifled another moan. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of letting him see how turned on she was. Maybe it would be possible to shift away from it? There was barely any play in the ropes, and when she moved her body, he immediately noticed and kept the device in place. 

It kept working on her, below her naughty nub, close enough to give it the full brunt of pleasure, far enough not to turn it numb. Either he was lucky or skilled, and she wasn't about to take a bet against him. She kept breathing deeply, giving into the sensation.

When he grabbed a nipple through her blouse and bra and gently squeezed it, a sudden shock coursed through her body.

"You're very aroused," he said, voice calm and composed, just stating facts as if they weren't embarrassing, "Aren't you?"

Moira did not reply. Some things were meant to be private, and certainly not spoken aloud.

His hand touched her cheek, warm and soft. It slid towards her back, and upwards into the hair at the nape of her neck. She felt him grab her by her scalp, and forcibly turn her head towards him, making her look him in the eyes, inflicting his intense stare on her.

"Answer me. Are you aroused?" He said it with such authority, as if she was fully at his mercy.

"Yes," she whispered, unable to resist. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but instead of shame, it only made her more conscious of how hot this all was. She closed her eyes, and submitted to have the orgasm that was brewing inside of her - which failed to happen as the vibe clicked off.

She had been so close. Her whole body was close to tingling, her clitoris was throbbing and her pussy was clenching helplessly around nothing. That orgasm would have been wonderful!

"I didn't ... did not ... cum?" A stuttered half-measure between question and statement.

"I know," he said smugly, letting go of her hair and pulling the vibe back. "I know that you told Kathleen about a thousand times that you don't care for this." He smirked again, confident, nearly arrogant.

"Yes.. but..."

"What, but? Did you change your mind? Don't tell me you have suddenly become a deviant?"

The words hit her like a slap. She had called it deviant before, and he had noticed. Now here she stood, panties dripping wet, wanting more.

"If you tell me that you're also a deviant, like us, and if you ask me nicely for an orgasm, I'll let you have one. Otherwise I'll just undo the ropes, and it's over." 

Usually she hated arrogant men, but the casual way in which he was cocky was endearing, at least that was what she told herself to rationalize what she was about to do. "I am a deviant, like you, and like Kathleen and Thomas, and I want an orgasm," she grumbled, giving him a sour face.

He raised an eyebrow and gave her another cocky smirk. "I suspected you'd be the bratty type."

Sebastian flicked the switch on the vibrator, and held it between her legs again.

"Oh god," she moaned, unable to stop herself. The pleasure washed over her in an instant. The break had only made it worse. Within moments she was back near the edge, the orgasm in her grasp. And then the vibe turned off.

"Fuck!" she nearly shouted, desperate, and looked at him in disbelief.

"I told you to ask me nicely," he stated, a mocking grin on his face.

Moira had been so close she could still feel her pussy clench over and over. A strong wind would get her off. The only way to get what she wanted was to submit.

"Please give me an orgasm. Please!" she forced the words out.

"First time begging?"

"Yes," she whispered, ashamed, and yet relieved. It hadn't been so bad.

Without warning, he stepped close to her. She felt his leg between hers, thighs together. His chest was pressing into her bound breasts. The stubble on his chin tickled her cheeks. One of his arms wrapped around her shoulders and neck, pulling her face into his neck. He smelled warm, musky, a hint of sweat and faded cologne. A click warned her what was about to come, and the heavy rumbles hit her crotch. She buried her face in his shoulder, hiding her blush, and rejoicing in the feel of compassionate human touch. The orgasm hit her like a tsunami: washing away the shame and discomfort in hot bliss. She smothered her cry into his chest, slobbering onto his shirt. She did not care, she could not think. Every muscle in her body was shaking and tingling as she came, standing tied to a post, embraced by a man she barely knew.

"Good girl," he whispered into her ears, still tightly holding her. Minutes must have passed. She realized she could move her arms again, and was hugging him. He must have undone the knots with one hand. The vibe was on the floor next to them, discarded.

"You okay?" he asked, genuinely.

She cleared her throat, then whispered, "Yes, I'm alright. It was... very intense."

He chuckled, "First times usually are. Let me just undo the rest of the knots." He made sure she was not falling over, and deftly undid just a handful of knots, letting the red ropes fall to the ground.

Moira took a few steps with shaky feet, and rubbed the places where the rope had left barely visible marks on her arms. She felt quite a little sore. And very soggy between the legs.

Sebastian called for Kathleen, who opened the door with a wide smile on her face.

"How was it?" she asked.

Moira looked between the two, both giving her big grins, sighed, and put her hands over her face to not have to look at them. She said, "Sebastian, would you mind giving me your number so we can do this again sometime?"

2020-11-06 Blissful Torment

Idea by prettyplease-sir.