I was given an assignment to be at the apartment at exactly 10 o’clock in the morning. I was quite torn on whether to go with or without panties. I decided to put them on. I dressed in black and red. I had high heels. Lips and nails were also in red. I had to walk a little bit.

I was stepping impatiently, taking small quick steps and approaching the secret place where incomparable perversions took place and indescribable emotions were experienced.

I arrived a little out of breath and with wet panties. It was unlocked, and I directly went in. I passed the hallway. He was sitting in front of and opened laptop – very fresh, smiley and sweet like a designer chocolate. I went straight to pounce on him with a kiss.

“You’re running late…”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky you’re so beautiful…”

How can that not move a person? Women always melt when given compliments. Give them, dear men! Even if you are lying, we don’t mind beautiful lies.

We were kissing like this: I was leaning towards him, and he slid his hand under my dress and gave out a pleased growl at the abundant moistness there. He quickly pulled my panties down and they fell to my ankles. I exclaimed into his mouth when he got into my wet pussy. He began moving his fingers, imitating screwing and that always got me going and aroused me, to the point of full submission of my holes. The master stood, slid into the other room and told me to wait for him. He came back, holding a very long leather belt in his hands – a soft, imitation leather.

He went bumme. What had he thought of? To wrap me up well so I felt like I was taped up with duct tape?! My wondering came to an end when darkness came over my eyes.

Sir G. placed the belt over my eyes, wrapped it twice around my head and tied it in the back.

I could see absolutely nothing.

Not only this,but the belt was adhering to my skin like a rubber mask that stuck tightly. I knew from experience how much the lack of vision, the unknown, and unexpected made me crazy. My senses sharpen and everything is more intense.

My heart beat faster.

I felt his hand wrapped around my wrist and began leading me. I was terribly unsure and asked him to take my heels off. His fingers around my ankles, the sliding off the feet, his touch electrified me in this seemingly innocent situation.

He stood up next to me, grabbed me again and led me. We went into the other room. He left me at a spot and was moving around somewhere on the left. He was clattering.

The rattle, the collision of objects into one another, the sounds I was hearing, without being able to see, along with the awaiting, were affecting me, and I felt internal moisture slowly crawling, coming off from my core, gently tickling the walls and my labia.

Sir G. placed something on my one breast. My skin bristled from the touch of the plastic. He was slightly pushing on me, as if mounting something. Vacuum. A mighty pulling of my nipple made me groan. The same repeated with the other.

He released it a bit. I liked the medium tension, not overly sucking and deforming the nipples and areolas, but not too weak.

After that, he went away again, and I heard the rattling and clanking of what seemed like metal. 

I was heavily breathing.

I felt powerless and dependent, expecting the unexpected. My breasts were tingly. The sounds filled me with thrill. I didn’t know if he was admiring me, preparing various little tortures. I didn’t know what he’d thought of.

Perverse ignorance.

The moisture between my legs wasn’t letting up. The ignorance and waiting were baring my instinct, thirsting for the filling of my holes.

Sir G. approached. He kneeled in front of me. My skin bristled. Something large pulled my labia and mightily spread them aside. It was slowly entering inside me. It was oily, terribly hard, likely silicone. I moaned like a bitch, because it was splitting me open, sinking into me, strongly pulling on me. It suddenly began hurting.

It was necessary to move my legs, without wanting to. I grazed a metal stick with my leg. Obviously, the thick instrument was mounted on some kind of metal stand. The tight penetration made me lean forward. It suddenly began vibrating.

My mouth opened to moan, but nothing came out.

Some sort of machinery was fucking me. I was releasing secretions, and when it quickened, I didn’t feel well. I flung my hands instinctively and felt something. It was made of leather. Maybe a strap hanging from the ceiling. I had no idea.

From “Perverse games” by Emmа Tommova

Photos: most of the internet