FIRST FANTASY

By Succubus

Going way back, deep and dark.... Blackness is all around, trapping the moment in a void...

I stand, arms raised above me, stretched taut and tied tight. The ropes hold me to my feet; arms spread wide, legs bound apart from one another.

I am open, exposed. No way to protect myself, hide, or escape. A piece of cloth blocks out my vision. I don't know what or who surrounds me. I can hear my own breaths, loud and ragged. My heart thumps.

I lick my lips, stopping the tremble and twist again, pulling at my bonds. This is as much to try and escape as it is to feel the thrill of knowing I cannot.

I turn my head to one side, straining to hear anything that might exist beyond the blackness. I can feel him. I know he is there, watching.

I am completely exposed before him: no past, no secrets. He knows my needs, can see my desires, and knows too my every fear. All of him is appetite, waiting to feast upon me, body and soul.

I imagine him watching me, hoping for his touch, dreading it too, and feel the heat of his eyes across my skin. I twist and moan softly, untouched and needy.

A hand, cold at first but quickly warmed, encased in a leather glove, reaches out to me. A gentle touch, upon my thigh, he lingers for a moment. One gloved finger touches my lip, gently prods to open my mouth, and then moves away.

His hand moves slowly up my thigh, caressing me. I arch my body, trying to open more of myself for his greedy touch, his hungry sight.

Abruptly he draws back. I hear the smallest of sounds a moment before the stinging slap hits my breast. I gasp and try to twist, to move, to escape. He chuckles, a small laugh that echoes in my blackness and sends a trickle of fear up my spine.

Another slap, and another, and he rains down pain upon me. I take each slap as it comes, swallowing the sharpness. Heat fills my breasts as pleasure licks at them. Whining moans and gasps are my response.

Just as suddenly as they began, the blows stop, leaving me suspended in anticipation--breasts burning, frustration, fear and lust fighting for my mind.

His lips touch mine, softly. I turn away, denying the intimacy. Rough leather fingers pull my mouth back to his. He slides a finger inside my mouth, opening it. No longer soft, he presses his lips to mine, pushing his tongue in deeply, seeking to make all of my mouth his. I part my lips, offering myself in the kiss.

His body presses to mine, his clothes rough against my nudity. I weaken, trying to press myself against him. He steps quickly back, leaving me gasping.

I can feel him moving, but can't tell where. I turn my head from side to side, trying to find him.

His hand, the glove now warm, wraps softly around my throat. He tilts my head back, and he is there, behind me. His breath is hot against my ear. He holds me still with his hand on my neck, making me feel my vulnerability. I wonder how small and fragile I must feel to him. I wonder if he can feel the blood rushing through me, my pulse pounding.

He wraps his other hand around me, petting at my breasts, soothing them, cooling them. It lowers, the leather horribly intimate, yet terribly anonymous as it trails across my belly. He moves slowly, his intent clear to me as his hand slides toward my waiting cunt.

His hand grasps my throat tighter as the other comes now from behind and grabs at the wet folds of my cunt, roughly pinching at me. With deliberate slowness, he slides a finger inside of me, each inch of it so clearly felt. I shudder and moan, pushing myself toward him, arching my back painfully in hopes of more.

The leather feels alien, intrusive. My pleasure from it feels forbidden. He slides his finger in and out of me, my wetness coating the glove.

I gasp louder as he adds a second finger, jamming it into me roughly, forcing me to take it. Faster and faster, he plunges his fingers into me, his hand slapping against my ass, stinging, as the pleasure drives me toward an edge--an edge he will deny.

He pulls his fingers from me and lets me go. I whimper, muttering "please," as my hips twist and rock, wanting more.

I suck in a quick breath, feeling one leather fingertip prodding at my ass, pressing against it, seeking entrance. I shake my head, trying to deny him this. I pull at my bonds, frantic.

His hand twists itself in my hair and he pulls my head back painfully. I yelp, and he whispers into my ear, "You are mine."

Slowly he forces his finger into me, opening me for his pleasure. Tears spring to my eyes, only to be absorbed by the blindfold.

He lets loose my hair, moving his hand down my front, sliding his finger back inside my cunt. The twin sensation fills me. Slowly he fucks me with his hands, rocking me on his fingers driving me to greater pleasure. I feel heat all over, my cheeks flaming, my breath now coming in shallow gasps between moans. On and on, thrusting deeply into me, showing me all of my body is his, my responses his to control.

I cry out loudly as orgasm hits; a long low moan comes from me. My hips rock feverishly, my body pulsing with the waves of pleasure.

He leaves his fingers inside of me until I stop shaking, and then slowly withdraws them. With the softest of kisses on my lips, he whispers, "perfect" in my ear, then walks away.