by Erika Majors

Copyright© 2015 by Erika Majors

BDSM Story: No sex, more of a psychological story than anything else.

Tags: Ma/Fa   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   MaleDom  

Her attention was focused entirely on the mirror mounted in front of her. All she could see was herself, her face, eyes with a look of distracted concentration, and a blue that she had not seen in a while. Mouth slightly parted, she could just make out the hint of pink from the tip of her tongue. Her nose was slightly crooked at the tip, not quite perfectly symmetrical. Her light brown hair was pulled tight to her head in a long braid. Although she could not see it, she could definitely feel the pressure of it.

Her gaze fell to her long neck, slightly paler than her face, but that was to be expected as winter had not quite passed. And paler still, her breasts, with her pert, pink nipples, standing out for the world to see. Whether that was from the cold, or the flutter of excitement she felt in her stomach, she was not quite sure. Maybe a little of both. She could just see her parted legs, and the hard chair she was seated on. There was a darkness between her thighs, mostly in shadow, the curly hair and lack of light made the details fade into obscurity, but she could feel a slight dampness.

How long had she been here? it may have been ten minutes, it could have been the entire day, time had no meaning at this point. She started to close her eyes, blocking out everything, even if only for a moment, but a tug at her braided hair, and the feel of a hand on her shoulder jolted her back to attention. She was not the only one watching that reflection.

"Look!" the voice demanded. She could not see him well, just a shadow behind her chair, but she knew he was there. There watching her. Watching her watch herself. She could not close her eyes, could not look away from her naked, open body reflected back in that cold, revealing mirror. She could feel the ties in her hair, the ones holding her to that horrid chair pull again as he released her braid. She had no room for movement in her head, could not turn away from her own image.

She could feel her excitement mounting further as she continued to look at her self, as she had been ordered. The moisture between her legs started to pool on the wooden seat. As she shifted, in hopes of finding comfort her arms reminded her of the bonds around them, holding her strong, without mercy. Her mouth parted further as she inhaled sharply from the pressure. She was passed feeling pain, and was now somewhere between numb and tingling. She was sure her limit was close, but she could do nothing about it, he was the only w=one who could release her.

She slowed her breathing, hoping to ease the pressure in her arms, and hopefully her chest and she felt the slight rising panic from her prolonged entrapment. She had been here before, more than once. She knew she could handle it, but had it ever been this long? How long has it been anyway. He always made sure that there was nothing to see, nothing but her, naked, vulnerable, breasts rising and falling with her breathing, hard, wooden chair, and darkness around her. She tried to suppress the shiver as it passed through her, but only managed to tense that much more as her bonds strained. And with that shiver her nipples tightened further, and she could feel the pool of wetness on her seat slowly lick her skin as it flowed against her butt.

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