I was lying on the bed naked, covered by only a small piece of the bed sheet. I had been tied up in the middle of the night, so my slender body was drawn out along the length of the bed. It seemed to me that I resembled one of those carved wooden figurines attached to the bows of old ships, with wood fashioned to look like tattered remnants of clothing blowing in the sea breezes.

I was roused out of my daydream by a large figure entering the room. She was dressed in her usual attire, consisting of a skimpy miniskirt and a halter-top that barely covered her ample breasts. She had a soft smile and beautiful electric blue eyes that called out to you and demanded your attention. Her shockingly white hair flowed, cascading off her shoulders, which were the same pure whiteness. She looked like an angel, a pristine picture of womanhood.

“My little Lilly,” she said as she approached me, “Did you sleep well, my love?”

I smiled faintly and turned my head towards her, marveling at her astonishing beauty. She walked over to the large French doors and flung them open, pouring light into the room. I squinted for a moment as my eyes adjusted and saw her approach the bed. She leaned over and tousled my hair, teasing me slightly, knowing that I longed for that first kiss of the morning. She got up, took her seat in a small armless chair adjacent to the bed, crossing her legs delicately. Everything about her was exquisite: her beautiful looks, the way she moved, and her wonderful imagination. All of which toyed with my heart.

She rang a little bell on the table next to it, and immediately a servant came in with a tray of tea and tasty cakes and muffins for the morning’s breakfast. She poured herself a cup, sweetening it how she liked, and took a sip. She also poured me a cup and added a bit of honey, but I would not get to enjoy it until I was freed of my bonds. She pulled out her glasses and a magazine and began reading it intently.

“Sarah,” I said meekly, “I am hungry, may I please have a bit of something to eat?”

She looked up from the glossy magazine and over the frame of her glasses and smiled. Her face always took on an air of pure intellect when she glanced above the rim of her glasses. She took the tray and sat it next to me on the bed and pulled one of the pillows that had been tossed on the floor under her knees. I pressed my lips together, taking in the sight and smell of the fresh pastries. She had picked out a lovely strawberry tart for me and cut it in half with a butter knife. She gently placed it in my mouth and watched me enjoy every bite of it. Then, kissing her finger, she pressed it to my lips; not true intimacy but still an act of love.

She sat back into her seat and read her magazine until the sunlight had crept over the floor and onto the bed. I had reveled in her presence for at least an hour, drinking up her sight and the subtle scent of her perfume. She had eaten a few cakes and offered me another, this time a piece of a cranberry muffin, and I gladly accepted. She rang the bell once more, and the servant came and took away the tray, but she kept my cup of tea, which by now had gone cold.

She approached the bed once more, pulling up the pillow and kneeling on the floor. She ran her smooth fingertips across my outstretched arm and caused me to giggle. It was a time for seriousness, and giggling was not appropriate, but she understood. She leaned over, and I closed my eyes as her lips met mine. Not a bawdy, open-mouthed kiss, but a soft, delicate kiss that lingered for a few moments. As she pulled away, I tried to strain my neck to keep us connected, but she censured me nonverbally. She got off her knees and rang the bell and left the room.

The servant came and untied me and brought me into the washroom where I was bathed and dressed in an oriental silk robe. I was then presented with my tea, and the servant left the room. I knew the door was locked; there was no point in even trying to open it. When Sarah wanted me, she would come for me; she had a habit of doing this occasionally. The balcony doors were still open, and I took this chance to sip my tea outside. As I got down to the end of the cup, the honey trickled into my mouth and coated my throat with a delicious sweetness. I stood out there for some time, and the doors had been shut, locking me outside, but I didn’t worry. When they were opened again, my room had fresh bed linens, a tray of fresh tea, and beautiful flowers in a vase on one of the tables. I curled up on the bed and buried my face in the cozy blankets that seemed to smell of Sarah’s perfume.

The night came. I had spent the day in loving solitude, longing for our evenings together. She had come in like clockwork, in a room that had no clock. But I knew when the shadows cast by the sun began to touch the railing of the balcony, she would arrive for me. The stress of work had taken its toll on her lovely body. Her face was drawn, her arms seemed weak from some unknown labour. But she climbed into the bed, and I was like her pet. She stroked my thick hair and scratched my back, eliciting an occasional purr even.

I looked into her eyes, and she leaned down, and we kissed as passionately as ever. Our tongues danced and flitted in each other’s mouths, the gentle sucking noises that filled the room. I wrapped my arms around her, and she eased herself onto her back. I toyed with her button-up shirt and ugly brown skirt that she wore to her meetings and managed to get them off. She helped with the bra, and her massive breasts spilled from it when she undid the clasp. I laid my head on her stomach and ran my fingers over the smooth flesh.

She untied the sash holding together my robe and touched my large scar that ran almost the whole length of my abdomen. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the images racing through my mind. I had loved my husband and the son we worked for four years trying to conceive with every fibre of my being. The day of the horrible accident, a part of my soul died with them. A car going sixty miles per hour had hit us straight into the driver’s side where my husband and son were seated. The ambulance came and took me; my son was pronounced dead on the scene, and my husband was flown out by helicopter. He later died in the hospital. The scar I received was from a piece of metal that had sliced through me as the car rolled.

Sarah had been his business partner at Sheer Solutions, a company that he had founded. She came and comforted me, helped me make funeral plans, and get all of my husband’s affairs in order. His will decreed that I would be the new holder of his 40% of stock, making me the new partner. I locked myself in my house for six months, and Sarah would come over and bring me food and bring a maid to tidy up the place. Eventually, she brought me to her estate, and I sold the house and put the money in my savings account. I had fallen in love with her, and life seemed to be restoring its order. We lived together for two years now; I loved every minute of her company.

She would get in these little moods where she would feel very playful and lock me up in the room and tease me and make me want her more than ever. I loved it! She knew just what buttons to push and presently she was pushing every one of them. She had placed me on my back and held my breasts in her hands, pinching my nipples deliciously. I had helped her out of her snow-white pantyhose and cute white thong and she had assumed the position of straddling my stomach, keeping me tightly under her control. She would nibble and suck on my soft flesh and then tickle me into a crazed state. I kicked at the bed trying to get away from her for only a moment; just to catch my breath but she was firmly planted on my stomach. As I tried to fight, she squeezed her thighs together to keep me from moving too much. This erotic teasing continued for about ten minutes and I was breathing heavily and she had this look of pure excitement on her face. She grabbed my forearms and brought them together over my head, forcing my breasts to stand at attention and she leaned over and rested her head between the valley. I calmed down considerably and she let go of my arms. I stroked her cheek affectionately and she let out a small sigh.

With all my might I rolled the both of us onto our sides. She was very delicate but her weight was immense when she was not helping at all. I inched my way down so we could be eye to eye and rubbed noses with her. She was so tender and sweet to me, even when trying to be rough. I embraced her with one arm around her back and scratched soothingly with my long nails. She stirred slightly, shuffling closer to me and I held her a bit tighter.

We made love almost every night; I was usually the giver, and I liked it that way. But tonight was different; she would be in control of the whole situation. She rang the bell, and the servant walked in with the silky-feeling ropes I was bound in this morning. My heart began to pump, and I thought about just giving in to the inevitable, but I knew she liked it more when I fought back.

“Noooooo!” I squealed, but it only made her move more quickly.

She was on the bed in an instant, like a jungle cat hunting its quarry. I rolled over onto my stomach and curled up in a tight ball, hoping she would not be able to pry my hands away. We were in a wrestling match that would only end when I was tied firmly to the bed. I loved the way she would tickle me and roll me around and promise me kisses and fairness, but I would never give up. She had gotten one of my hands, and as quick as lightning, it was wrapped in rope and tied to the wrought iron frame of the bed. I was more determined than ever to escape and tried untying the knot on my wrist, but as soon as I did, she took hold of it, and the battle was suddenly in her favour.

“If you give up now, I will give mercy to my prisoner,” she promised.

I had been tempted to give in but would not. Instead, I wanted to play a trick on her. I offered her my ankle with my toes pointed gracefully like a ballerina. As she took it in her hands gently, I took it away. She grabbed for it again and missed. She lunged for my ankle, and I pulled it away, but I hadn’t anticipated that she would go for the other one, and it was instantly bound tightly to the bed. I gave in to her, but it was not important that I be tied up completely; she actually liked it when I had one leg free.

She never wanted to hurt me or degrade me like some of the sexual perverts enjoyed doing. Instead, she just wanted control, just like in her life. She liked to please me because I would do anything for her and never asked anything in return. She rang the bell, and the servant came in, and she motioned for him to come closer. She had whispered something in his ear, and he immediately left. She crawled onto the bed and brushed my hair out of my face with her fingertips. The servant knocked on the door and came in with a large tray covered by a domed lid. He set it on the table and left the room once more.

Sarah got up with a bouncy excitement that made her all the more alluring. She opened the lid just a crack and pulled out a blindfold. She tied it gently around my head, and I heard her walk back over to the table. The lid was pulled off fully this time, and she toyed with whatever was on the tray. She walked across the room and sat on the bed and lifted my free leg so that it touched my chest. She teased my thighs and sensitive lips and slid something along the whole length of my slit. I gasped loudly at the sensation it produced and tried to wriggle away from it. I did not like this foreign thing, and Sarah could feel my dissent.

She was fairly disappointed and removed the blindfold. I saw the large dildo in her hand and couldn’t believe that she would try to use that on me.

“Sarah, we don’t need those things. All I need is you to make me happy and satisfied,” I explained.

She tried to rationalize it to me, “I just thought we could try something new, that’s all. Do you not like it?”

“To be honest with you, I have never used one and felt it was shameful to do so.”

She had looked at me funny, thinking that it was very odd for a woman of this day and age to never have used a dildo. She really wanted to gratify me with it but understood my point of view. I had displeased her, but she never voiced it.

I got fairly nervous but spoke up, “Sarah, my love, if you want to, we can. It never hurts to try new things.”

She kissed me gently on the lips and picked up the dildo, warming it in her hands. The hard plastic pressed to my hole, and every muscle in my body tensed up. It had been bigger than any of my partners had been, and I let out a small whimper.

“If you relax, my love, it will fit perfectly!” she said, half reprimanding me.

I tried my best, and she managed to get all of it in with no more problems. She stroked my thigh and gave me a silent praise. She went down between my legs and kissed my clean-shaven mound, which caused me to tremble in anticipation. She stiffened her tongue to a point and gently flicked my swollen clit with it. I tried to sit up but fell back down after my bonds only let me elevate a few inches. She continued her assault on my clit for a few seconds until, in my desire to be closer to her, I had forced the dildo out. She picked up the sticky thing and eased it into me once more; this time, I let out a soft moan. She smiled sweetly at me as if to say, “I told you so” and lapped up my juices.

She held the dildo in place this time and sucked and nibbled on my clit. I writhed around on the bed, and as I was approaching my climax, she began pumping the dildo in and out. The sucking, licking, and the thrusting were more than I could bear, and I had a screaming orgasm. She continued to plunge it in and out, and after a few moments, I was shaking to another climax.

The servant was heard knocking at the door. “Ma’am, is everything alright in there?”

Sarah just laughed and assured him that everything was fine. She untied me, and I dove for her, knocking her onto her back. I kissed her passionately, completely taken aback by what she had done for me. I licked at the corners of her mouth, getting all of my juices off of her face. She had taken me to another level. Surprisingly, I was quite mad at her. I thought to myself, “How am I going to top that?!”

It seemed as though she had sensed my dilemma and told me, “You don’t have to try and outdo me; tonight is your night. Just be with me, and that will be enough.”

But I could not be satisfied with that. I placed her on her back with her help, and I spread her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs. Her torture of me had made her quite horny, and her little pussy glistened. I ran my tongue along the whole length of it and swallowed all of the extra juices. It tasted like the honey in the bottom of my teacup and coated my throat with the same delicious sweetness.