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Mad About You: Part 6 (MF, bond)
by Frost

Jamie spent the rest of the day naked. It was, she realized afterwards, the
first day she had spent naked since she was a very young baby.

She had also spent much of the day with her wrists bound behind her back by
the scarf. Paul had made dinner, for example, and fed her, cutting pieces up
and putting the fork against her mouth. He had also washed her, spending a
good deal of time at her crotch...which produced two orgasms before he was
finished.

She had even slept that night with her wrists tied behind her, wakened once
to find him on top of her, to feel his cock thrusting deep and pumping
wildly. She hadn't had time to come before he finished, but he had quickly
brought her off by masturbating her.

Now she was dressed in a Christian D'ior dress that covered her from throat
to ankles, her hair perfectly brushed and hanging softly across her
shoulders. She was at work, and appeared, to anyone who saw her, like the
perfect, upward oriented career woman.

She looked, in other words, respectable, disciplined, intelligent, and
self-confident, and was treated that way by her secretary, Allison, by her
boss. Philip, and by all her co-workers.

And yet, all day long imagines of her weekend kept popping into her mind. She
felt wicked, sinful, erotic. She knew that everyone at work would be shocked,
astounded if they knew how she had spent her weekend, if they knew the things
she had done, or the things done to her.

"How was your weekend?" Allison had asked when she got in.

"Oh, fine, same as always," she'd replied.

Allison was a pretty blonde just out of her teens, very earnest, very stern,
even to the point of tying her long blonde hair back into a bun. She was an
ardent feminist, and the thought of telling her the truth practically took
Jamie's breath away.

"Oh, my weekend was great," she could have said. "Paul tied me up with rope
and shoved a vibrator up my pussy, then forced his cock down my throat. I
spent all of Sunday naked with my hands tied behind my back. Oh, yes, and of
course, I was tied spreadeagled to the bed Friday night so he could torture
me with feathers, ice, and hot wax, after which he sodomized me."

Oh yes, wouldn't that raise the girl's eyebrows to the roof! Wouldn't that
stun her friends and colleagues! Jamie Buchman, the perfect example of the
independent career woman, tied up and butt-fucked while she begged for more.

She felt like she was living a lie, an exciting lie. They all thought of her
as this intelligent, sombre woman, and yet she was a masochistic slut, a
whore who screamed for cock meat, who said the most degrading things to get
more cock.

It was a delicious secret, and kept her day from being boring. Whenever she
found herself in some boring meeting she thought about her secret.

That kept her pussy on a kind of low heat throughout the day, and she made
sure she got home reasonably early...by six, anyway. She was surprised to
find Paul already there when she unlocked the door. He usually got in later
than her.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, kissing her.

"Hi," she said. "You're home early."

"Couldn't stay away," he grinned, then leered.

She blushed a little, but felt her pussy triggered by the look, and beginning
to warm.

"Let me help you off with your coat," he said.

"Thanks," she said, a little warily.

"And your boots," he said, after he'd hung up her coat.

He helped her off with her boots, then grinned, and moved to within inches of
her. "Let me help you off with your dress," he said.

It was in her mind to protest that she hadn't even eaten yet, but didn't.
Maybe he wanted her to be naked, so he could feed her again. That was okay
with her for two reasons, one it was exciting, and two it meant he had to
cook.

She let him untie the ties of her dress, and slip it over her shoulders and
down and off. She stepped out of it, then let him remove her bra, panty hose,
and panties. He also took off her watch and earrings, as he had the other
day.

She felt her pussy growing even warmer, and her breasts swelling. Her nipples
had already exploded out to the size of raspberries.

"I went shopping today," he said.

"Oh?"

"Bought you a few things."

"That's nice."

"Like to try them on?"

"Whatever you want."

"Maybe I should help you."

"If you want."

He led her, naked, to the counter that looked out on the dining room and
living room from the kitchen, and she saw there was a bag there. Paul leered
at her again, then turned her around so her back was to it. She heard him
take something from the bag, then felt him take her hand and pull it back.

She turned her head and saw a leather...thing...in his hands. "What's that?"
she blinked. He wrapped it around her wrist. It was padded on the inside, yet
hard, and studded on the outside, and had a metal ring set into the leather.
She watched him clip the thing together, then saw him take a small padlock
and lock it shut. "Jesus," she sighed, her belly tightening as she raised her
wrist to her face and examined the thing.

"It's called a leather restraint, or a leather cuff," he said. "It won't
leave any marks like the ropes."

He took her other hand and put another restraint around it, then locked that
with another small padlock.

Jamie examined them both with mingled anxiety and excitement. They looked...
dangerous...somehow menacing.

He took two more out of the bag and attached them to her ankles, then took a
studded leather collar out and put it around her neck, locking that tightly
as well. Jamie felt intensely erotic as she examined herself, and knew her
pussy was moist and ready for anything.

He pulled something else out of the bag. It looked like nothing more than a
ping pong ball attached to a foot long hank of hair, like a pony tail. She
couldn't imagine what it's purpose was until he ordered her to bend over and
spread her legs.

Then she felt the round ball pressed against her asshole.

"Paaull. What is that?"

"Just do what you're told or I'll spank you."

She felt it slowly pushed through her asshole, then felt her asshole snap
closed behind it, the thin tail sticking out.

The last thing he pulled out was a leash, which he attached to her collar. He
tugged downwards on it, forcing her to her knees, then to all fours, then
walked forward into the living room, pulling on the leash. Her mind steamed
as she crawled along at his side.

The tail, for that was, she quickly realized, what it was supposed to be, was
very thin where it came out her asshole, but fluffed out considerably, and
hung down between her thighs, brushing her skin as she crawled.

He led her around the living room and dining room, then made her halt and
kneel on all fours as he walked slowly around her, examining her. Jamie felt
intensely sexual, incredibly erotic, and yearned to be penetrated, to be rode
hard.

"What a slut," he said.

She shuddered in pleasure.

"On all fours like a bitch in heat, just begging for it, aren't you."

"Yess," she breathed.

"Spread those legs, slut. Raise that ass higher."

She obeyed him, her body gripped by a wild sexual lust.

He was wearing sweats. It took only seconds to strip them off, then he
gripped her leash and knelt in front of her.

"Suck my cock, slut," he said. "What should I call you, hmm? What's a good
name for a bitch in heat?"

He held her leash tightly as he rubbed his cock over her face, then pushed it
against her lips. She sucked it in eagerly, licking and suckling as he ran
his hand through her hair.

"How about Rover? How about I call you, Rover? Hmmm? That sound like a good
name for you, slut?"

He was pumping his cock in her mouth, and obviously wasn't looking for an
answer. She continued to suck his cock, mewling in pleasure as he stroked and
squeezed her dangling tits.

He pulled back abruptly, and made her turn around, then she felt his cock
rubbed up and down against her pussy mound.

"Ready for it, slut? Rover? Want it, Rover?"

"Yessss," she gasped.

"Beg for it."

"Please fuck me. Please fuck me, Paul!"

"Don't call me that! You're my little fuck-dog, my bitch in heat. You can
call me...Master. Got that? Beg for it, Rover."

"Please fuck me, Master!" she gasped, the tightness in her guts now almost
painful. "Please fuck me, Master. Please fuck Rover, Master!"

She felt his cockhead pressed against her burning hole, then cried out in
pleasure as he thrust into her. He gripped her hips and...the word that
occurred to her instantly was...mounted her. He mounted her.

That word made her body burn with feverish pleasure, and she humped back
desperately, panting for breath as the heat overwhelmed her senses.

"Fuck me, Master! Fuck me hard!"

"I'm gonna give you a good ride, slut!" he growled, ramming his cock down her
fuck-pipe with brutal force, hammering his hips into her tight ass cheeks as
she groaned and whimpered and grunted in heat. His hands roamed up and down
her body, squeezing and fondling her swinging breasts, then gripping her
shoulders and jerking her back into his thrusts.

He gripped her leash then and tugged it back, forcing her head up and back.
He jerked her back by it, slapping her bare ass cheeks as he rutted into her.

"Yeah! Yeah! Fuck! Take it! Take my cock! Fucking slut! Fucking whore! Ungh!
Ungh! Ungh!"

"Fuck meee! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she gasped.

She felt like an animal, like a bitch in heat, or a filly being mounted,
being ridden by its mate. She gurgled in lust and heat and excitement as she
felt his stiff boner spiking up into her belly again and again, glorying in
the lewd, carnal romp.

She was on the verge of coming, and hammered her ass back against him, even
though the impact was almost painful. She impaled herself on his pumping
staff, grunting in bliss with each deep penetration.

And came, thrashing her head wildly as she gurgled in pleasure, whining and
moaning and mewling in delight as the fires of ecstasy bathed her shuddering
flesh.

"Ohhh! OhhH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OH! OHOOOOhhhhhhh!"

His jism spewed out of his bulging cock and gushed down into her sucking hot
furnace of a cunt, pouring into her as he dug his fingers into her flanks and
cursed in pleasure.

Afterwards, after they had recovered, and he had dressed, he turned her onto
her belly. He removed her leash, then clipped her wrists together behind her
back. Then, to her surprise, she brought her ankles back sharply and clipped
them together, linking them to her wrists somehow.

It was very uncomfortable, but he let her turn onto her side, and that wasn't
too bad. He left her on the rug, but was kind enough to turn on the TV for
her to watch while he finished making dinner. She knew he wasn't finished
with sex, and her pussy knew it too.

After ten minutes or so he came and got her, unlinking her ankle restraints
and pulling her to her feet. He led her into the kitchen, but instead of
having her sit on his lap he made her kneel beside his chair. Then he sat
down and began eating dinner himself.

She was a bit confused at first, and also hungry, but then he turned with a
piece of meat in his hand and held his hand before her mouth. She took a deep
breath, and slowly exhaled, then, trembling only a little, she licked the
piece of meat out of his hand.

That was the way the meal went. Every second or third piece he cut he would
pick up and hold out to her, sometimes in his fingers, something in the palm
of his hand, and she would lick it off and eat it. All the while she was
doing it she felt intensely erotic, and the thought ran through her head
again and again, of what her friends, family, co-workers would think if they
could only see her now.

He had milk afterwards, and so did she, except hers was in a bowl he placed
on the floor, and she had to lean in and lick and suck it out.

After dinner he unlinked her wrist restraints so she could clean the dishes.
When she had finished them she walked out to the living room. He pulled her
over his lap, then turned her belly down and caressed her ass cheeks.

"Have I ever told you what a gorgeous ass you have, Rover?"

"Yes, Master," she sighed.

"It really is gorgeous. It's a pity everyone else couldn't see your gorgeous
ass, don't you think?"

"Yes, Master."

"Come on, you can watch a movie with me. Oh, wait, I think you can watch it
better from over here."

He had her get up, then led her to the low hanging beam that separated the
living and dining rooms, well, that gave them an illusion of separateness.
She saw for the first time that he had driven to round rings into them about
three feet apart.

She also saw that he had chains on the nearby table.

He stood on a chair to hang the chains on the rings, then got down and
placed her directly under them. Her heart was pounding, and she offered no
resistance as he lifted her right hand high, and linked the wrist restraint
to one of the chains.

Then he moved over and lifted her other hand high. It wouldn't reach the
other chain, though, and she thought for a moment he had miscalculated, but
he actually lifted her body up, one hand around her waist, the other on her
wrist, and linked her wrist restraint to the hook at the end of the other
chain.

Then he let her go, and she found that she was hanging from the chains, that
her feet dangled inches above the floor. All her weight came down on her
wrists and arms and shoulders, and it took her a few moments to adjust to
that.

Her wrists didn't hurt at all, but her arms felt strained, and her shoulders
ached. She knew she must look amazingly erotic, though, and the very idea of
hangin from the wrists was almost too much for her. She started rubbing her
thighs together around her steaming snatch to bring herself off.

"Stop that,"he ordered. "I don't want you jerking yourself off unless I tell
you to."

"Ye...ye...esss, Ma...master," she panted.

"Jesus, you look hot," he said.

He rolled the TV over, then got the camcorder and plugged it in. She watched
as she appeared on the TV. Her eyes widened as she saw herself.

"Oh Christ! Fuck me, Paul! Oh God, I look so..."

"Yeah, like a real little slut. Like my sex slave."

He stroked her body, then slid his hand between her legs and started stroking
her clitty with rapid movements. She grunted and moaned and tried to hump
against him. That he was jerking her off was just one more astonishingly
wicked things that made her mind one mass of sexual heat.

Then she came, grunting and moaning and shaking in the chains as the heat
flooded her body. The fireworks blasted her thinking processes to pieces, and
had her dancing in mid-air for long seconds before she went limp.

He pulled over a chair and sat down beside her as he turned on the movie
he'd spoke of. It was a porn movie, and it involved bondage and sadism. She
watched, her attention distracted from her sore shoulders by the action on
the screen.

She saw woman after woman chained, roped, raped, beaten, whipped, caned. One
of the most exciting scenes was when the woman was hung from her wrists, and
a man whipped her.

She wanted a man to whip her. Well, actually she didn't, for she was certain
it would be intensely painful, but the fantasy of a man whipping her as she
hung there made her cunt boil again.

"You like that, slut?" Paul said, casually reaching a hand up, as he had on
several occasions, to stroke her ass cheeks or pussy. "You want me to get a
whip and whip you?"

"It looks so...exciting," she panted.

"Bet it hurts like hell, too."

"Ohhhh!" she gasped, as his fingers slid up her pussy.

Another scene came on, and he pulled his fingers away, much to her
disappointment. On the TV a woman was bent over a desk and was caned. She
heard the hiss of the cane, and watched as it cracked down on her firm white
ass cheeks, and licked her lips in excitement.

They watched as the caning ended, and the woman's tormenter roughly sodomized
her.

"You're a dirty girl to get off on this, aren't you?" he said, smacking her
ass.

"Yes, Master," she gasped.

He got up and pushed the chair away, then stood there beside her, running
his left hand up and down her belly and over her breasts, and squeezing and
kneading her ass cheeks with his right.

"You think I should cane your ass, Rover?" he growled, slapping her ass hard.
She yelped, but didn't answer. He continued to knead her ass cheeks, his left
hand sliding down between her thighs and stroking her pussy.

"Are you a bad girl, Rover?" he demanded, cracking his hand on her ass again.

Again she yelped in pain, but said nothing, moaning at the sexual heat
radiating upwards from her pussy pit. His hand cracked on her ass again, then
he stroked and squeezed her soft meat. Again he slapped it, harder this time,
and she gasped in pain, her ass jerking forward.

"Dirty slut," he said. "I think you need to be punished. Don't you?"

She was grinding her pelvis into his fingers when he stopped.

"Noo," she gulped.

He slapped her ass with his hand and she yelped.

"I think you need to be punished, slut."

"N...Nooo," she gasped, her body glowing with heat.

His hand cracked against her ass again and she cried out in pain, then his
fingers slid into her soft pussy meat and he began to rub her clitty with his
thumb. She shuddered and arched her back. Then he rolled her clit between his
thumb and forefinger and she whined and moaned like a bitch in heat.

"Bad girl," he said, taking his fingers out, then slapping her ass.

He went to the VCR and removed the tape, then inserted another and pressed
play. He moved back to her and went behind her, his right hand sliding
between her legs and stroking her pussy.

The TV lit up with images of her. She'd only seen the pictures he'd taken of
her in bed, not these. Now she stared at herself as she knelt, tightly bound
in lengths of rope, watched as she rubbed her pussy on the rope, as she
ground her loins back instinctively, then fell to her side, grunting and
straining and grinding her hips as an orgasm ripped through her.

"Slutty girl," he said, slapping her ass hard.

She cried out in pain, but couldn't take her eyes from the TV. She saw him
shove the vibrator up her snatch, then saw her sucking him, watched as he
forced his cock right down her throat.

He stroked her clitty then slapped her ass again, and again she yelped, but
her voice was strained, dazed.

"Slut," he said.

On the TV she saw him untie her, saw her laying on her side, griping her
crotch, saw him push her onto her back, saw herself pumping the vibrator up
and down in her pussy as she moaned and writhed in orgasmic ecstasy.

"Oh fuck!" she gasped, stunned by the burning eroticism of her own actions.

"What kind of a woman jerks off with a vibrator while someone watches?" he
growled into her ear. "What kind of a woman does it in front of a camcorder?
Only a real nympho slut would do that!"

He slapped her ass, then again, then again, and she cried out each time, but
the pain, as sharp as it was, only raised her heat higher, and she ground her
thighs together helplessly as she watched the TV.

And even as the tape ended she continued, crying out in pain and pleasure
each time he slapped her ass. He gripped her hair then and forced her head
up and back.

"Are you a slut?"

"Yesssss! I'm a slut! I'm a slut!"

"You need to be punished, don't you, slut?"

"Yesss! Punish me! Punish me, Master!"

His hand slapped down hard against her ass and she cried out in pain. Her
legs bounced and shook and her thighs slapped together, and the sex-heat was
still there, still growing. She was torn between the heat in her crotch and
the heat of her ass. Then they seemed to combine, and she came, thrashing and
shaking wildly as he fingered her slit and slapped her ass.

He rammed three fingers up her snatch, grinding his knuckles against her taut
pussy lips as he mashed his thumb against her clitty. He continued to crack
his hand against her ass cheeks as she jerked and writhed and bounced in
mindless bliss.

Her ass was red when he stopped slapping it, but he didn't move away. He
moved in front of the now limp, groaning woman and dropped to his knees. He
gripped her ankles and pulled them apart. There were rings set into the
floor, and he chained her ankles well apart.

Then he knelt in front of her, peeled her cunt lips open, and began licking
and sucking on her clitty and cunt meat. It was only a few minutes before she
began to hump against him.

"Oh, Jesus, Paul," she said, her voice breaking with emotion and passion.
"What are you doing to meeeee?"

He stood up and moved behind her, then dropped his sweatpants. He rubbed his
bulging tool against her asshole, then slowly worked it into her, burying it
deep in her guts. He ground his pelvis into her tight ass cheeks as his hands
squeezed and mashed her breasts.

Then he began to stroke, sliding his cock steadily up and down her ass tube.
His left hand continued to grope and knead her tit meat, as his right slid
down her heaving chest and belly and his fingers found their way into her
slit. He stroked and fingered her clitty as he fucked her helpless asshole,
and she whimpered and sobbed in delirious pleasure.

Her head dropped back onto his shoulder as he drove his cock up into her, but
she humped against him, driving her asshole back onto his cock as he frigged
her clit bud. She grunted repeatedly, continuously, her eyes closed, mouth
slack, forehead beaded in sweat.

"Slut," he growled into her ear. "Whore! Fuck-machine!"

She whimpered and moaned and then, as he pounded his cock higher and harder
and faster, came, came with a sob of exhausted pleasure, her guts torn and
chest straining as her muscles snapped and jerked and her nervous system
overloaded.

"Fucking whore! Fucking whore!" he cursed as he rodded his cock up her ass.
"Cunt! Slut! Slave! Bitch dog!"

He bit down on the nape of her neck as he rammed his cock up into her asshole
and blasted his sperm out into her. She bounced and shook and went limp
again, groaning weakly.

    

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