“I am going to hurt you, because your body in pain inspires me.”
The cuffs were padded leather, rope run through the rings and around two pillars. The room was a long rectangular shape, where these floor to ceiling columns were load bearing, on either side, spanning the halfway point. There, the rope always lived, for convenience, but today it was taut, holding him stretched out. He was naked except for his collar, his cock stirring but not standing to its full extent. She liked that, knowing even the preparation had his interest piqued, pulling him toward that full kind of rampant erection, a tell he couldn’t hide when she turned him on.
How odd, to be a man, and be able to conceal nothing! Her own arousal even surprised her, sometimes. Sure, she would feel the energy and the tight warmth, but all too often she wouldn’t realize the full extent until she touched the curls and folds of her cunt and her hand would come away sopping wet. Then again, the “topping” she liked best sucked her full attention from her own body, to his.
She never started these games turned on. That came later, immersed in the joy of it. There was an urge to do unkindly, but it was a sort of romantic foreplay, the actual heat arriving in the midst of her control and his reactions. Cunt slick and ready to devour took a path through her power over him and some sort of apex of sensation inflicted on him.
Nonetheless, he was naked for her pleasure. His clothing remained piled up on their bed, in the other room, where she pulled it free from his body. She hadn’t dressed up, lazy in a t-shirt and black jeans, bare feet stepping over the carpet, considering her first attack.