She sat on the bed beside me looking slightly uncomfortable. She knew that her huband was in the next bedroom over with my wife. She hadn't really wanted to do this, but she loved her husband and it was what he wanted.
I turned to look at her. While she was slightly overweight, it was not so much that she could in any way be considered fat. She had curves in all the right places and filled he white sweater nicely. Her blond hair was cut short and at 5'2" she made me feel like a giant even though I'm only slightly over five nine.
I put my arm around her shoulder and felt her shiver slightly. "Just relax Beverly." I told her softly. "Tonight is for you, I want to make you feel good. What do you like?"
"Anything," she replied. Her voice shook.
"Oh come on Bev," I said, still keeping my voice low. "There must be something that excites you more than anything in the world. I can be anything you want, gentle, very gentle, rough, or very rough. We can spend a long time on foreplay or no time at all. It's up to you."
She looked up at me with an odd look in her eyes. "Do you mean that?" she asked. I nodded. "C-c-could you sort of dominate me. I mean, make it feel like I don't have a choice. Maybe that way I won't feel like I'm cheating on Sam."
"How much force do you want?" I asked. "Do you want a little pain with it? Like I said, it's your night. Just tell me what you want."
Her voice shook so much that I could barely understand her. "Could you hurt me just a little bit? Nothing too rough but sometimes Sam squeezes my nipples really hard and it just sends me through the roof."
I squeezed her right shoulder since my arm around her presented that possibility. I thought about giving her a safe word and decided against it. She really didn't want to be here and would probably use it before anything really happened. "Okay," I said. "But remember, once we start you can't stop until it's over."
Her lower lip quivered. "Okay," she said shakily.
I hardened my voice. "Stand up and face me about two feet away." She did it and I stared at her, letting my eyes go up and down her body. Undressing her with my eyes. "Take off your clothes." I told here harshly. She started to shake and I thought she was going to make a break for it. "Do it," I snapped.
Her hands went shakily to the bottom of her sweater and pulled it up just slightly. We heard a female voice from the other room. "OH YESSS," it screamed. That jolted her into action and she quickly pulled the sweater up over her head and threw it on the floor.
Her bra was white with pink hearts on it that I could barely make out from the small night light in the room. "Now the bra," I said coldly. We heard a moan from the other room. It was obviously a moan of passion. She reached behind her back and unhooked the bra. She brought her hands to the front and suddenly grabbed the cups keeping herself hid.
"I just can't," she said. There were tears running down her face.
I didn't speak but simply reached out and grabbed the bra between the cups, pulled it from her body, and threw it on the floor with her sweater. Her tits were small. She probably wore a b-cup, but I liked them small anyway. She crossed herself with her hands trying to cover her nudity. "Put your hands at your sides," I told her.
There was a male voice from the other room. "OH GOD." it screamed. "That's so GOOD." A steely look came across her face and she dropped her hands to her side. Her nipples were standing out a good half an inch. I didn't have to prompt her as she unbuttoned her skirt, pulled the zipper down and let it drop to the floor. Now she stood before me clad in only her skimpy pink panties and white bobby socks. She looked at me and I nodded. With a look of resolve she grabbed the sides of her panties and pushed them down and off, raising her legs, one at a time, to step out of them. The hair between her legs was sparse, almost like a little girl even though I knew that she had a 15 year old son.
I reached into the drawer of the night stand beside the bed and pulled out the gentle cuffs. They are a soft sort of hand cuffs held together with Velcro around the wrist and a plastic detachable snap in the middle. My wife and I used them whenever the feeling for a little S&M hit us. "Give me your hand," I told her and she held them out and let me attach the cuffs. I stood up. I towered over her. I grabbed her and quickly threw her on the bed.
I was beside her in a flash, grabbed her cuffed hands and attached them with a rope in the center of the top of the bed that was kept there for that purpose. She was really struggling now, obviously very scared. I quickly jumped out of bed and went to the bottom of it. I grabbed her by both ankles and pulled her down. Then I attached her legs, spread-eagled with soft ropes from either corner of the bed.
"Now you're helpless, bitch," I chided her. "Does it feel good?" She didn't answer but simply closed her eyes as tight as she could. I could see a tear runing from one corner, down the side of her nose and then running along her cheek. It touched me and I almost gave in, but no that wouldn't do. So I hardened myself to see this thing through.
.... There is more of this story ...