CoffeeEmporer
TMF Poster
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2007
- Messages
- 78
- Points
- 6
A wandering thought on a long afternoon, and here we have today's tale. Enjoy ^_^
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It was like meditation, but with far more leather.
That’s the conclusion Paul came to after the first hour that he engaged in self bondage. He had been recommended it several times by a couple of his regular clients, and though he absolutely hated the idea of being tied up around anyone else, the feeling of isolation was surprisingly satisfying.
He shifted once again in his binds, feeling the cool fabric of his comforter trace the lines of his nude form. He took in a long, deep breath as he listened to the slight creaking of his wooden, four poster bed frame rock in accordance to his minor movements, marveling at the sounds he had never noticed before. The blindfold remained as secure as his bonds, keeping the tall, lanky man in darkness as his mind wandered over to examining the new scents he was picking up. The leather from the cuffs that held his limbs fast, the dancing perfume of the fabric softener that clung to his bedding, and even the age old scent of stain that echoed in the air in musky undertones all teased his nostrils.
It was altogether a kinky, peaceful afternoon.
That peace was not meant to last sadly, for shortly thereafter Paul hear the unmistakable creak of the worn metal joints affixed to his bedroom door. Surprised by foreboding sound, made all the more thunderous by his lack of sight, Paul jerked and stretched out to the nearby bedside table to grab the key to his cuffs. What happened next could only be described in terms of shock and terror as he felt the metal upon his desk scoot slightly out of his reach. He had been too aggressive, and nudged the object of his freedom away from his hand by accident. A set of soft footsteps began to pad slowly across the old wood floor, creaking gently under the weight of something having entered the room. Feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed at the thought of someone having interrupted his “private time”, he re-stretched out and with renewed energy pulled against his bonds to reach the key.
He felt the key once again, and once again knocked it out of his reach. This time, however, Paul listened in absolutely disbelief as the clanging of metal reverberated through the silent room. The object he desired had fallen from its precarious perch upon the wooden table, causing him to moan through the small ball-gag that he had chosen to wear.
“Meow?”
Paul’s thoughts returned to the matter at hand, namely the presence now in his room. The sound, light enough to be a whisper, caused him to rail against his binds and call out through his gag. He had completely forgotten about his afternoon appointment, and that sound could only be none other than his pet.
“M-Master?”
Angel the Kitty Cat. His mind immediately conjured up the image of a pall, petite woman no more than 5ft tall with bright pink hair and a taste for anime. She must have let herself in through his special “pet door” and started looking for him. It was an all too common game they played together, usually resulting in him waiting at his kitchen table and reading the paper while she nuzzled his legs.
“W-Why are you all tied up like this Master?” The high pitched voice echoed its confusion as Paul felt her take a seat next to him on the bed. He renewed his struggles and tried to force clarity upon his muffled speech. “Is this my special present?” She asked after a few moments.
Paul’s stomach went cold as he remembered his conversation last week with Angel. He had told her that since she had been such a good kitty lately (save for once little incident), he was going to do something special for her. The real surprise was currently sitting in his closet, wrapped up in a large showy package. He had gotten her a new set of cat ears, a glitzy collar, and a fluffy new tail. Desperately Paul tried to repeat the word “no” over the obstruction in his mouth.
“Oh Master… You are too kind…” Angel mewed as he hand went up to caress Paul’s cheek. The touch of her hand was light and graceful as he felt her claw like nails trace the contour of his jawbone. He could imagine the color of Angel’s nails as he smelled the smallest whiff of polish, undoubtedly vibrant pink to match her hair.
He felt her hands begin to move downward as they flittered from his neck to his torso. Though he wasn’t exactly muscular, Paul was tone enough to accentuate the variety of outfits he wore as a Dom. Whether it was leather, silk, or nothing at all the bound man did his best to ensure that he looked decent enough to keep his playmates engaged, whatever their interests.
Although this wasn’t exactly how he expected Angel’s session to go, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself. That was, until her caresses swept over his stiff nipples and caused him to let out an inadvertent squeal.
“Wha? Are you okay Master? Did I hurt you?” The car girl’s voiced whined, scared that she had done him some harm.
Paul shook his head no, and through his gag tried to convey that he wanted to be released from his binds. He got halfway through the attempt before he felt her fingers brush over his nipples again, eliciting another squeal.
“M-Master? Are you… ticklish?”
The bound man’s eyes grew wide under the blindfold and he struggled to free himself once again. He recalled last week’s session with Angel, where he had punished her for spilling her dish of milk. He had decided to change up his technique and instead of using his standard routine of spanking, opting instead to tickle torture her while mixed with some tease and denial.
Beads of sweat formed on his head as the room grew quiet as his renewed struggles yielded no results. He could feel the weight of Angel shift as she moved on top of him, his mind burning in anxiety as he speculated what thoughts were crossing the cat girl’s mind. Images of a cheshire like grin spread wide across the face of his danced across his mind’s eye, her eyes gleeful and wide like saucers of fresh milk. Or maybe her fingers found themselves flexing involuntarily, preparing themselves to knead along every inch of his body looking for sensitive spots to exploit. Though it had been ages since he had been tickled, the reason main why it had been so long stemmed from his sensitivity. Paul was deathly ticklish, and his heart raced at the thought of being laid out like a fish for his pet to enjoy.
A flurry of nails scratching his nipples broke him from his worried revere. He nearly screamed as the ticklish sensations struck him like a lightning bolt out of the blue, causing his body to spasms as deluges of laughter tried to force its way past his gag. With renewed energy he tried to free himself from his binds, more desperate than ever to escape Angel’s touch.
“Hehe, tickle tickle tickle Master!”
Angel’s joy was evident to Paul, even while he laughed wildly. The way her nails flicked and teased his nipples maddened him, only to be made worse by the fact that he was completely blind to where she would strike next. It was something that the wily cat girl soon began to utilize to her advantage, as she began to interlace rapid flurries of ticklish strikes into the depths of Paul’s armpits. He shook his head back and forth in a desperate, yet utterly useless attempt to drown out the sensations. It wasn’t long before Paul felt his face become flush, though it would be longer still before Angel allowed him a respite from her ticklish ministrations. Around ten minutes of ticklish torment passed by before Angel finally ceased.
“Wow! You’re even more ticklish than me!”
Paul weakly nodded his head in agreement, trying desperately to recover his breath through his nose.
“This is such a wonderful present… Considering how much you punished me last time.”
Paul had little time to prepare before Angel’s cat like nails began to run up and down his sides. Though not nearly as ticklish as his nipples or his armpits, he still issued a steady stream of forced laughter. Almost drum like in its tempo, Paul’s laughter set the tune for his tormentor to sing along an ad-hoc little ditty.
“Oh once I was a naughty little cat,
Knocking things over wherever I sat,
Till one day master tickled by paws and bum,
And punished me by not letting me cum!”
Angel’s hands then jump from Paul’s sides to his hips, squeezing them mercilessly as the new tidal wave of tickling sensations caused him to buck wildly and roar with laughter. His head began to swim as he desperately gasped for whatever breath he could while his whole body felt engulfed by the cat girl’s wicked ticklish touches. His nerves felt on fire as his muscles began to grow weak from all his thrashing. Though he still could not pierce the veil of his blindfold, he could feel it start to latch onto his face as it slowly grew wetter and wetter from the tears that welled up with every minute of his ongoing torment. Yet as much as he wished for it to be over, all he could do was endure the cat girl’s desires.
It would be yet another ten minutes before she gave him a break.
Paul, completely spent, could only collapse into his binds as he fought for breath.
“But every tickle and every tease,
Passed over me like the wayward breeze,
And though I felt I would lose my mind,
In the end my master was kind.”
Even in his weakened state with every nerve feeling on fire, the bound Dom could still notice the distinct feeling of a hand wrapping around his cock as it started to be slowly pumped. Worn out from the intense tickle session, all he could manage was a quiet mewl as he grew harder and harder. Angel’s skilled hands brought him to full mast in no time, only relinquishing their grasp when he had begun to lightly throb with desire.
Paul then felt the cat girl begin to shift positions, moving from straddling him to lying down between his legs. Uncertain what would happen next, Paul deliriously prayed that there would be no more tickling inflicted upon him. The answer to that prayer came in the form of a warm, wet appendage running up the base of his shaft all the way to the top of his head. Another mewl passed through the gag as Angel’s tongue worked its skillful magic.
“Mmm… It’s just like catnip… I can’t stop licking.”
Angel repeated the same pattern with her tongue again and again, tracing each line and contour with ease. From the base of the shaft to the base of the head, she executed her luscious laps with unerring precision. Never once did she take Paul’s manhood into her mouth completely and suck, nor did she pump his cock with her hand. She just licked, and in doing so had the desired effect of beginning a fire that grew with a painful slowness. A fire that ran over Paul’s already frayed nerves and burned throughout his own body. Again and again she licked, causing Paul to mewl and groan his desire to orgasm with whatever energy he had left.
“Mmmm…Oh…Gawh…Oh…Fhug…”
It was an inferno, a wildfire, a volcano at the edge of erupting. It was painfully divine, a limbo between heaven and hell in which Paul was hanging. The licking brought him almost there, but not enough to push him over the edge. He wanted to orgasm, needed to orgasm with all his very being. It may have only been twenty minutes since the tickling had stopped, but to Paul it was an eternity of desire!
“Are you ready?” Angel finally asked in a heady whisper.
“Yesh! Pwease!”
Angel’s licking was then joined by her hand, squeezing tightly around Paul’s throbbing shaft. She pumped hard and fast, her tongue moving at speeds so intense it threatened to drive the bound man insane. His back arched and his muscles all went taunt, lost in a current of sexual desire that was sweeping him away. He grunted hard into his gag, he was… almost… there!
Everything went white for a moment, and from a great distance he thought he heard a feral growl of erotic satisfaction.
And then Paul collapsed, returning to reality as his entire body lay completely spent. He could feel something warm splattered across his stomach, but hardly cared as all his available senses took on a dream like quality. Everything felt, heard, smelled just slightly disconnected. He felt something touch his cheek, unsure if it was a hand or a paw. A voice cooed to him, and fighting the exhaustion that claimed his very being tried to make out the words. They were quiet, like a whispered promise, and spoke to the new feeling of something around his neck. It took him a moment to realize it was a collar.
“Don’t worry… I promise to be a good master my pet. I did learn from the best, after all.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was like meditation, but with far more leather.
That’s the conclusion Paul came to after the first hour that he engaged in self bondage. He had been recommended it several times by a couple of his regular clients, and though he absolutely hated the idea of being tied up around anyone else, the feeling of isolation was surprisingly satisfying.
He shifted once again in his binds, feeling the cool fabric of his comforter trace the lines of his nude form. He took in a long, deep breath as he listened to the slight creaking of his wooden, four poster bed frame rock in accordance to his minor movements, marveling at the sounds he had never noticed before. The blindfold remained as secure as his bonds, keeping the tall, lanky man in darkness as his mind wandered over to examining the new scents he was picking up. The leather from the cuffs that held his limbs fast, the dancing perfume of the fabric softener that clung to his bedding, and even the age old scent of stain that echoed in the air in musky undertones all teased his nostrils.
It was altogether a kinky, peaceful afternoon.
That peace was not meant to last sadly, for shortly thereafter Paul hear the unmistakable creak of the worn metal joints affixed to his bedroom door. Surprised by foreboding sound, made all the more thunderous by his lack of sight, Paul jerked and stretched out to the nearby bedside table to grab the key to his cuffs. What happened next could only be described in terms of shock and terror as he felt the metal upon his desk scoot slightly out of his reach. He had been too aggressive, and nudged the object of his freedom away from his hand by accident. A set of soft footsteps began to pad slowly across the old wood floor, creaking gently under the weight of something having entered the room. Feeling a little more than slightly embarrassed at the thought of someone having interrupted his “private time”, he re-stretched out and with renewed energy pulled against his bonds to reach the key.
He felt the key once again, and once again knocked it out of his reach. This time, however, Paul listened in absolutely disbelief as the clanging of metal reverberated through the silent room. The object he desired had fallen from its precarious perch upon the wooden table, causing him to moan through the small ball-gag that he had chosen to wear.
“Meow?”
Paul’s thoughts returned to the matter at hand, namely the presence now in his room. The sound, light enough to be a whisper, caused him to rail against his binds and call out through his gag. He had completely forgotten about his afternoon appointment, and that sound could only be none other than his pet.
“M-Master?”
Angel the Kitty Cat. His mind immediately conjured up the image of a pall, petite woman no more than 5ft tall with bright pink hair and a taste for anime. She must have let herself in through his special “pet door” and started looking for him. It was an all too common game they played together, usually resulting in him waiting at his kitchen table and reading the paper while she nuzzled his legs.
“W-Why are you all tied up like this Master?” The high pitched voice echoed its confusion as Paul felt her take a seat next to him on the bed. He renewed his struggles and tried to force clarity upon his muffled speech. “Is this my special present?” She asked after a few moments.
Paul’s stomach went cold as he remembered his conversation last week with Angel. He had told her that since she had been such a good kitty lately (save for once little incident), he was going to do something special for her. The real surprise was currently sitting in his closet, wrapped up in a large showy package. He had gotten her a new set of cat ears, a glitzy collar, and a fluffy new tail. Desperately Paul tried to repeat the word “no” over the obstruction in his mouth.
“Oh Master… You are too kind…” Angel mewed as he hand went up to caress Paul’s cheek. The touch of her hand was light and graceful as he felt her claw like nails trace the contour of his jawbone. He could imagine the color of Angel’s nails as he smelled the smallest whiff of polish, undoubtedly vibrant pink to match her hair.
He felt her hands begin to move downward as they flittered from his neck to his torso. Though he wasn’t exactly muscular, Paul was tone enough to accentuate the variety of outfits he wore as a Dom. Whether it was leather, silk, or nothing at all the bound man did his best to ensure that he looked decent enough to keep his playmates engaged, whatever their interests.
Although this wasn’t exactly how he expected Angel’s session to go, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself. That was, until her caresses swept over his stiff nipples and caused him to let out an inadvertent squeal.
“Wha? Are you okay Master? Did I hurt you?” The car girl’s voiced whined, scared that she had done him some harm.
Paul shook his head no, and through his gag tried to convey that he wanted to be released from his binds. He got halfway through the attempt before he felt her fingers brush over his nipples again, eliciting another squeal.
“M-Master? Are you… ticklish?”
The bound man’s eyes grew wide under the blindfold and he struggled to free himself once again. He recalled last week’s session with Angel, where he had punished her for spilling her dish of milk. He had decided to change up his technique and instead of using his standard routine of spanking, opting instead to tickle torture her while mixed with some tease and denial.
Beads of sweat formed on his head as the room grew quiet as his renewed struggles yielded no results. He could feel the weight of Angel shift as she moved on top of him, his mind burning in anxiety as he speculated what thoughts were crossing the cat girl’s mind. Images of a cheshire like grin spread wide across the face of his danced across his mind’s eye, her eyes gleeful and wide like saucers of fresh milk. Or maybe her fingers found themselves flexing involuntarily, preparing themselves to knead along every inch of his body looking for sensitive spots to exploit. Though it had been ages since he had been tickled, the reason main why it had been so long stemmed from his sensitivity. Paul was deathly ticklish, and his heart raced at the thought of being laid out like a fish for his pet to enjoy.
A flurry of nails scratching his nipples broke him from his worried revere. He nearly screamed as the ticklish sensations struck him like a lightning bolt out of the blue, causing his body to spasms as deluges of laughter tried to force its way past his gag. With renewed energy he tried to free himself from his binds, more desperate than ever to escape Angel’s touch.
“Hehe, tickle tickle tickle Master!”
Angel’s joy was evident to Paul, even while he laughed wildly. The way her nails flicked and teased his nipples maddened him, only to be made worse by the fact that he was completely blind to where she would strike next. It was something that the wily cat girl soon began to utilize to her advantage, as she began to interlace rapid flurries of ticklish strikes into the depths of Paul’s armpits. He shook his head back and forth in a desperate, yet utterly useless attempt to drown out the sensations. It wasn’t long before Paul felt his face become flush, though it would be longer still before Angel allowed him a respite from her ticklish ministrations. Around ten minutes of ticklish torment passed by before Angel finally ceased.
“Wow! You’re even more ticklish than me!”
Paul weakly nodded his head in agreement, trying desperately to recover his breath through his nose.
“This is such a wonderful present… Considering how much you punished me last time.”
Paul had little time to prepare before Angel’s cat like nails began to run up and down his sides. Though not nearly as ticklish as his nipples or his armpits, he still issued a steady stream of forced laughter. Almost drum like in its tempo, Paul’s laughter set the tune for his tormentor to sing along an ad-hoc little ditty.
“Oh once I was a naughty little cat,
Knocking things over wherever I sat,
Till one day master tickled by paws and bum,
And punished me by not letting me cum!”
Angel’s hands then jump from Paul’s sides to his hips, squeezing them mercilessly as the new tidal wave of tickling sensations caused him to buck wildly and roar with laughter. His head began to swim as he desperately gasped for whatever breath he could while his whole body felt engulfed by the cat girl’s wicked ticklish touches. His nerves felt on fire as his muscles began to grow weak from all his thrashing. Though he still could not pierce the veil of his blindfold, he could feel it start to latch onto his face as it slowly grew wetter and wetter from the tears that welled up with every minute of his ongoing torment. Yet as much as he wished for it to be over, all he could do was endure the cat girl’s desires.
It would be yet another ten minutes before she gave him a break.
Paul, completely spent, could only collapse into his binds as he fought for breath.
“But every tickle and every tease,
Passed over me like the wayward breeze,
And though I felt I would lose my mind,
In the end my master was kind.”
Even in his weakened state with every nerve feeling on fire, the bound Dom could still notice the distinct feeling of a hand wrapping around his cock as it started to be slowly pumped. Worn out from the intense tickle session, all he could manage was a quiet mewl as he grew harder and harder. Angel’s skilled hands brought him to full mast in no time, only relinquishing their grasp when he had begun to lightly throb with desire.
Paul then felt the cat girl begin to shift positions, moving from straddling him to lying down between his legs. Uncertain what would happen next, Paul deliriously prayed that there would be no more tickling inflicted upon him. The answer to that prayer came in the form of a warm, wet appendage running up the base of his shaft all the way to the top of his head. Another mewl passed through the gag as Angel’s tongue worked its skillful magic.
“Mmm… It’s just like catnip… I can’t stop licking.”
Angel repeated the same pattern with her tongue again and again, tracing each line and contour with ease. From the base of the shaft to the base of the head, she executed her luscious laps with unerring precision. Never once did she take Paul’s manhood into her mouth completely and suck, nor did she pump his cock with her hand. She just licked, and in doing so had the desired effect of beginning a fire that grew with a painful slowness. A fire that ran over Paul’s already frayed nerves and burned throughout his own body. Again and again she licked, causing Paul to mewl and groan his desire to orgasm with whatever energy he had left.
“Mmmm…Oh…Gawh…Oh…Fhug…”
It was an inferno, a wildfire, a volcano at the edge of erupting. It was painfully divine, a limbo between heaven and hell in which Paul was hanging. The licking brought him almost there, but not enough to push him over the edge. He wanted to orgasm, needed to orgasm with all his very being. It may have only been twenty minutes since the tickling had stopped, but to Paul it was an eternity of desire!
“Are you ready?” Angel finally asked in a heady whisper.
“Yesh! Pwease!”
Angel’s licking was then joined by her hand, squeezing tightly around Paul’s throbbing shaft. She pumped hard and fast, her tongue moving at speeds so intense it threatened to drive the bound man insane. His back arched and his muscles all went taunt, lost in a current of sexual desire that was sweeping him away. He grunted hard into his gag, he was… almost… there!
Everything went white for a moment, and from a great distance he thought he heard a feral growl of erotic satisfaction.
And then Paul collapsed, returning to reality as his entire body lay completely spent. He could feel something warm splattered across his stomach, but hardly cared as all his available senses took on a dream like quality. Everything felt, heard, smelled just slightly disconnected. He felt something touch his cheek, unsure if it was a hand or a paw. A voice cooed to him, and fighting the exhaustion that claimed his very being tried to make out the words. They were quiet, like a whispered promise, and spoke to the new feeling of something around his neck. It took him a moment to realize it was a collar.
“Don’t worry… I promise to be a good master my pet. I did learn from the best, after all.”
