Dinner and a Show
If I had my druthers, I’d be eating somewhere other than iHop. Its vicinity to the hotel makes it the ideal place to nosh.
I wave down the waitress and get a warm up on my coffee. I’m on my third cup and have time for a fourth before I need to be getting back.
I refresh my iPhone to see what’s going on in my hotel room. The girl is still on the bed. She’s pulled her knees up towards her chin as much as she can. I can see that her breathing is labored. I sip my coffee and watch as she undergoes another orgasm, her body shuddering, her legs stretching back out, her mouth open in a soundless scream.
I silently count to ten, ticking off three lesser tremors… these aftershocks are smaller orgasms that continue to rock her. She’d been at four before as I’d finished up my meal. Once she gets down to two I’ll head back to the hotel to release her.
Forty minutes ago I left her alone in my hotel room. A half hour prior to that I was letting her in the door. During the interim I placed her collar around her neck. She stripped down and I bound her with a combination of plastic wrap and duct tape. Once secured, I introduced her to a rather nasty-looking knife. Ten inches long with a serrated blade. It looked like it could gut a bear, much less a petite twenty-seven year old brunette wrapped up like a sausage on a hotel room bed.
Behind her gag she began to plead, her eyes (not yet blindfolded) wide. I put the knife against her thigh, letting the cold steel warm against her before moving it directly between her legs. She screamed, muffled but still louder than I’d have liked.
With the flick of my wrist, the knife sliced, opening a slit in the plastic wrap just above her pussy. The cool air hit her hot skin, making her think that I had cut her. She narrowed her eyes as I brought up the blade, showing her the lack of blood.
I sheathed the blade and placed it back in my bag, coming back with a five inch long white tube. I slid this into her. It went in easily as she was already slick with excitement. Before it disappeared completely, I gave it a twist at the base, causing it to vibrate. The noise of it was soon muffled as I pushed it deep into her. Her eyes rolled to white.
With one final strip of duct tape, I sealed the vibrator inside of her, taping up the slit between her legs.
I placed a blindfold over her eyes. It had two flaps that covered her ears as well. Though not as effective as the leather hood I often used upon her, it did a terrific job of blocking out all light and sound, encasing her in a dark silence.
The first few times we played together I would stay in the room while she was like this. I’d watch her go through the flood of orgasms that wracked her little body. I had to build a level of trust with her that she wasn’t going to injure herself by accident (or on purpose) while cocooned and cumming.
Eventually, I opened and closed the hotel door. Thinking I was gone, her orgasms came harder and faster until she felt my presence in the room.
The first time I set up a webcam and watched her from the lobby of the hotel, I almost thought that she was having some kind of an attack. Her body jumped as if had undergone electroshock therapy. She was a fish on a hook.
Sitting in the lobby for an hour got to be a chore. I ventured out to this iHop only a few weeks ago and it does the job, though I wish there was a book store or coffee shop nearby.
Tonight was the first night I told her about the webcam that I had been using. I showed it to her just before I slipped the blindfold on. I wasn’t sure if this would enhance her experience or damper it. Though she’s something of an exhibitionist, the feelings she experiences while bound have been far more intense once I abandoned her.
Looking at my monitor, I was pretty sure she enjoyed putting on a show for me. The next time I would tell her that I shared the URL for the webcam with a few friends. Either I really will or I won’t, but she’ll never know just how many eyes are on her as she orgasms for an hour.
Another cup of coffee and she’s down to two petite morts. I leave the money for the check and tip, giving extra for how attentive the waitress has been. I fantasize about she would say or do if I showed her the girl on my iPhone and told her that I’m going back to room 214 at the Sheraton next door. Would she like to join me?
I push this out of my thoughts as I push open the door and begin the short walk back to the hotel.
Entering the room I catch the last few whimpers of her last orgasm. She hasn’t heard me come in but she knows I’m there.
As I get closer to her I can start to hear the faint hum of the vibrator inside her. Its pitched lower, the batteries running down. I stand and admire her; her proud breasts pressed flat like strawberry-adorned pancakes under plastic, her hair soaked with sweat, her nostrils flaring as she tries to catch her breath.
I unsnap the strap that holds the gag in her mouth. I remove it, strings of saliva trailing behind it. She takes great gulps of the cool air.
Reaching between her legs, I remove the duct tape, thankful for her bare pussy. The tape barely holds, its sticking power diminished by her wetness. I stick two fingers in her and they slide in easily. She’s sopping. She shudders when I remove the spent vibrator. Is she grateful or sad that it’s gone?
I slide her body easily to the edge of the bed, her head lies off the edge slightly. She opens wide, knowing what’s coming.
I drop my pants and use her mouth, fucking her face. She gags repeatedly and I ignore it, my fingers sunk into the plastic over her breasts for purchase as I pull her fast against me, the breath from her nose hot against my balls. She slurps and sucks as I slam deep into her mouth.
I see her fingers spread out under the plastic wrap. She’s so constricted that she can’t even make a fist. With her blindfold still in place–tears streaming out from under it–my cock is the only outside stimulus she has. My scent fills her nostrils, my meat her mouth and mind. There is only me and nothing else for her right now. She struggles to please me.
And she does.
The first few drops of cum hit her throat and she spasms again, screaming around my cock as she orgasms without even being touched. I fill her with my spunk, shooting it into her gullet. I feel her muscles milking me of every drop.
She won’t stop sucking me until I finally slide my cock out of her mouth. Thick ropes of saliva and spunk trail from her mouth to my cock. As a final bit of humiliation, I clean my softening sex off on her hair.
She coughs and swallows hard a few time, trying to readjust herself to emptiness. After I re-dress I retrieve my knife and slide the blade along her side. Her body is so hot, encased in the plastic, the she shudders at the icy blade. I remove her blindfold to allow her to see the knife before I sink it into the space between her breasts.
The plastic tears, opening up where ever I dragged the blade. She glistens with perspiration, her flesh renewed and exposed.
I cut away her cocoon quickly. The cool air hits her and she begins to shiver. I’ve got towels at the ready to wipe her dry and wrap her in something more forgiving.
There are no words. I lie with her on the bed, giving her water to replenish her spent body to sooth her sore throat.
We’ll stay this way for a while. It may be minutes, it may be hours. It lasts until she hoarsely asks permission to get up. When she does, I’ll allow it, take off her collar and let her clean herself up. She’ll shower, dress, and say her goodbyes. And, like me, she’ll count the minutes until we see each other again.
See what happens with all this new technology? All hell breaks loose!
Okay, you know and I know that this particular "situation" is just not my cup of tea. But there are girls and guys (ie. Pinkie and Blackie) who would absolutely — with no reservations and a whole lot of enthusiasm — jump right into this scene if they had half a chance. And you certainly know by now that I am a great respector and defender of all things kink. While I might not personally get all hot and bothered over a certain bit of naughtiness, I can readily understand and appreciate why someone else does.
Besides, if all else fails, I can always reverse in my mind the genders of the protagonist and antagonist. Mmmm … Now I’m really seeing dirty visions. I need to buy an iPhone. And find a hotel close to an iHop.
Be sure to visit PornoPerson’s very hot blog, where he — more often than not — is the submissive one in his filthily erotic and wildly imaginative fantasias. Oh, and buy his GUARANTEED VERY DIRTY BOOK, too. I wrote the Forward, dontcha know?