Upper Hand

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. Renee’s Torment Upper Hand F/m; drug; captive; strip; chairtie; wrap; tape; gag; glue; pantyhose; cbt; tease; torment; breathplay; mast; sex; climax; denial; reluct/nc; XX “You really don’t need to do this.” I looked up into her eyes, restrained as I was in the chair. Their hazel hue had always made me feel taken aback. And as desperate as this situation was, this moment was no different. “But Jonathan, oh … I really, really do.” She moved forward, adhesive brandished. I tested my bonds once more to no avail. “Where are you gonna put that, Renee? You clearly haven’t thought this through. You’re just not … thinking!” ...

“Hey come here, I have a suprise for you.” You grab me by the wrist, pull me up the stairs practically. I’m trying to keep up but you’re way too excited. You tell me to lay on the bed. “Close your eyes silly.” You pull off my shirt, my pants, lightly tickle me as you remove my briefs - my manhood is standing aptly at attention already, making you laugh a bit. You leave the bed, and I try to sneak a look, but you’re far too smart and yell for me to keep my eyes closed. Which of course I obey, because I’m far too entertained by you in a dominant mood. I feel your hands grab my foot - silky smooth fabric is being put up my legs, and before I know it, you have my entire bottom half pantyhose clad. “Wow. Wow. You really do like that don’t you. Now keep your eyes closed and slink down a bit on the bed…” I feel you get on the bed, the weight rocking me back and forth (also making my johnny bounce a bit in its erect state, which you notice with glee) and next thing I know your foot is covering my mouth. “Quiet you. I want to keep you hushed up for a while - my foot will do for now, but I’m a kind soul. Look now ya little slut.” ...

I loved having him tied up. He had always been so reluctant when I mentioned bondage to him, but he truly loved me - and oh God, he made a fantastic slave. So he put up with my kinky tendencies, letting me seduce him over and over into situations he always regretted. But there was something so totally empowering in knowing that I could have him at my beck and call whenever I wanted, doing whatever I asked him to make me feel like a goddess. I’d always been fascinated with feminization. Maybe it was growing up behind the shadow of two brothers, wishing I could show them how difficult it was to walk in my shoes as a woman (especially if they were high heels), or maybe it was just my own dominant tendencies but there was something so gratifying in making my man my woman. To know that he hated it (in our less kinky moments, he was brutally truthful with me) but did it. For my sake. And even when he was bound and sick with himself for how low he had once again gone for me, I could bring him to orgasm … even if he whimpered and mewled and begged through his gag for me to stop bringing him to the edge, over … and over … and over. ...