© Copyright 2012 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; bond; gag tease denial; majick; genie; bodyswap; sex; climax; cons; X
Alone in the room, the naked blonde lay silently on the bed. The rising and shifting of her large breasts was the only motion, while the only sound the nearly silent hiss of air through her nostrils. Earlier, she had struggled against the bonds that held her spread eagle on the bed, grunting into the leather panel that covered her mouth. Now, resigned to her own helplessness, she lay silent.
How long she lay there, the woman had no idea, but, finally, the door opened, admitting a naked man. At the sight of him, the woman’s eyes widened, while muffled grunts once more emerged from her gagged mouth. Again she tugged at her bonds, her body writhing in its restraints.
Ignoring the woman’s muffled grunts, as well as her struggles, the man sat on the bed beside her. Idly, he traced one hand up the woman’s left thigh, seemingly heedless of her efforts to twist away.
“Oh,” he said, sounding infinitely pleased with himself, “this was such a good idea! We’re going to have such fun this way, you’ll see!” With those words, the man sent his hands roaming freely across the woman’s helpless body.
With each touch, the woman struggled to twist away, her head shaking back and forth in denial, even as her nipples hardened under the man’s attentions, moisture gathering between her thighs. Slowly, infinitely slowly, her struggles began to take on a different aspect. Where once she fought to escape, those struggled slowly changed, becoming a struggle to increase contact, rather than avoid it. Her body continued to twist, yet now it pushed toward the man, rather than pulling away.
“See?’ The man smiled gleefully. “I knew you would enjoy it too. You always have such good ideas. Now to see just how horny we can get you without letting you cum.”
The woman’s head shook frantically, muffled, moaning sounds emerging from behind the panel of her gag. Ignoring her protests, the man continued his slow, tortuous exploration of her helpless body.
As the man’s exploration continued, a strange thing seemed to happen to the woman’s body. She lay limp, yet every muscle, every tendon, was drawn tight in a seemingly impossible rigor of relaxation. At each touch, on leg, thigh, arm, breast, the woman’s body moved toward that contact. In time, these motions came to appear almost mechanical, so automatic were they. Her moans, as well, took on an automatic cadence, rising and falling with the rhythm of the man’s hands.
Finally, the man rose. “I think you’ve had enough for now,” he said softly. “I’ll let you calm down a bit, and then we’ll start again.” He smiled brightly. “Isn’t this just so much fun!” Turning, he left the room.
Alone, the woman lay still, her body still locked in the impossible contradiction of tense limpness. Her breathing, which had begun to whistle through her nostrils, gradually slowed, though it never quite reached its previous silent hiss. Slowly, very slowly, the tension seemed to seep away from her muscles until, except for the moans that never quite stopped, she looked much as she had before the man had first entered.
Returning, the man seated himself once more on the bed. At his first touch, the woman’s body tensed all over again, almost as if he had never left. Once more, he slowly explored every helpless inch of her body, this time using lips and tongue as well as hands. Once again, the woman’s body began reacting to every touch, though this time her apparent rise seemed faster, stronger, her moans nearly continuous.
Over and over, the man played with her body, bringing her to peaks unimagined, then leaving her alone, unfulfilled. Her moans had long since taken on a plaintive, begging tone. Her eyes, which had at first glared at the man, now gazed at nothing, their surface glazed and unseeing. Her body no longer moved toward each touch. Now, with even the slightest contact, her muscles spasmed, jerking her toward the point of contact.
Finally, as if satisfied, the man climbed fully onto the bed, positioning himself between the bound woman’s spread thighs. Slowly, he lowered himself. With the first touch, the woman’s hips bucked upward, as if seeking to swallow him. Smiling, the man pulled back slightly, watching as the woman’s body remained arched toward him, as if unable to retreat from even the possibility of what was to come.
Slowly, carefully, the man lowered his hips, entering her with a slow thrust. Immediately, the woman’s body matched the rhythm of his thrusts. But where his motions were smooth, almost leisurely, hers were jerky, spasmodic. Her only motions were towards him, towards greater penetration.
Gradually, the man’s thrusts increased in speed and strength, the woman’s body matching him thrust for thrust. Slowly, his body began to tense with the onset of orgasm. As the moment rapidly drew nearer, he lowered his head until his lips brushed her ear.
At this, the woman’s body, incredibly, tensed even more. With only her heels and the back of her head touching the mattress, her whole body arched into the air, lifting the man with her as her orgasm struck. The bed, made of sturdy oak, creaked and groaned at the strain as her body pulled at its bonds, fighting to gain just that one more inch of penetration, that one more inch of pleasure.
Again and again her body thrust itself upwards as one orgasm after another blasted through her. Suddenly, her body fell limp, leaving her to lie silently in her bonds. Only the heaving of her breasts, the rush of air through her nostrils, broke the still silence of the room.
Spent, the man rolled off to one side. “That,” he said breathlessly, “was incredible.” Slowly, he rose to his feet, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.
Smiling, he gazed down at the helpless woman. The room seemed to blink, and the woman’s gag vanished. For long moments, she lay silently, working her jaws and swallowing until she found her voice.
“Not one word,” she said sternly. “Get me out of this.” Again, the room blinked, as the woman’s bonds vanished. Slowly, as if she had not the strength for anything more, she drew her legs together, brought her arms down to rest at her sides.
“Now,” she said, her voice weak but stern, “put us back the way we belong.”
Once more, the room blinked. Now, it was the man who lay naked on the bed, while the woman stood looking down. Slowly, weakly, the man rose to his feet, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face.
“Why,” he asked slowly, “did you do that?”
The woman looked puzzled. “But, Master,” she said, “it was what you wanted.”
“It most certainly was not.”
“But,” the woman protested, “it was, Master. I remember it clearly. We were watching a movie, and there was a woman bound to a bed while a man teased her. You said then……”
“What I said,” the man interrupted, “was that I wished I could see you like that. Bound, horny, teased to utter distraction, but unable to cum without permission.”
“See?” The woman looked stunned. “Master, are you sure you said ‘see’?”
The man sighed. It was, really, all he could do. He didn’t have the energy to punish her, not after what he’d just experienced.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “you get what I just got, if not more.” Stepping away from the bed, he staggered slightly. “On second thought,” he amended, “make that next weekend.”
“Yes, Master,” the woman said meekly.
The man sighed again. What, he asked himself, could a man do with a genie who just didn’t pay attention?