It’s been awhile since I’ve switched the roles up a bit — female dominant, male submissive.

I woke with a smile on my face. I’m not sure when she got in, but is there a better feeling than a loved one crawling into bed next to you? Her manicured fingernails teased and scratched and traced down my right arm as I stretched myself, trying to wake myself.

When her fingernails got to my wrist, I was just opening my eyes; that’s when the cuff went on.

“Oh,” I thought, groggily, trying to figure out just what was going on. In the sleepy seconds that I tried to shake the sleep from my eyes and figure out just what I had in store for me, a strap was placed around my right thigh, securing my arm to my knee. I didn’t exactly fight when she did the same to my left side; heck, I sat up to allow her easier access. I was nude – each hand shackled to the outside of either thigh and she pushed my head straight back — I rocked like a rocking chair pushed too far and weebled on my back. My dick, already stiff (as it is every morning), started to throb, a string of precum connecting the tip with my happy trail.

I asked her how her day was, but she didn’t answer, just touched me — gentle, light touches, all about my body. She would trail her fingers from my feet, up my shins, the inside of my knee, but always breaking contact before she got anywhere near my sex. I’d love to tell you how long she did this, finding a starting point somewhere on my body (the top of my head, my shoulder, my ear, my toe, the nape of my neck) and trailing her fingers (sometimes a single finger, sometimes her whole hand, and everything in between) toward my throbbing cock, before breaking contact with me, leaving me to try to thrust my hips so that my sex would make contact with her. Sometimes, I was successful — more often than not, however, my stiff manhood reached only empty space before falling back on my belly. I really would love to tell you how long she did that to me — but I can’t. I lost count after about a dozen of these teasingly & frustratingly sadistic trips. I believe she continued, simply, until she grew bored.

“Oh, my day was horrible. But I think you’ll make it better,” she answered – the first she had spoken to me. I looked up at her and she started to slowly undress. “You’ll make my day better, I’m sure of it – but I want to know all about your day. Tell me, what sordid tales did your mind come up with as you went about your day? How many women did you undress with your mind?”

She barely looked at me as she spoke to me, instead concentrating on the undressing, carefully hanging each article of clothing in the closet as it was removed. When she was down to her bra & panties, she looked back at me. “Well? I want to know how your day was. If I believe you’ve told me enough about what goes on in that dirty little head of yours, I might let you cum tonight.”

I stammered with my answer, not knowing what she wanted to hear. “Karen, my coworker, she was the only one in the office when I got there, and when I said ‘hi,’ to her, there was a gap between buttons in her dress shirt — I fixated on ripping her shirt apart as my computer booted.”

Her bra hit the floor and she reached into her bag, pulling out a hitachi magic wand.

“Work got in the way from the start – I didn’t have much in the way of dirty thoughts until I got to the gym.”

“Tsk, tsk, I don’t like to hear that — and I’m not sure I really believe you,” she replied, and I wracked my brain — surely, I had further sexy thoughts during the morning, didn’t I?

“You’re right, I must have, but I’m blanking on the details,” I responded. She plugged in the vibrator and sat in an armchair, placing her legs around the arm-rests, spreading her legs wide. She placed the vibrator against her damp panties.

“Well, I’m waiting to hear about the gym,” she said, letting her neck relax and moaning.

“There was this one lady there – she arrived in her gym gear and in full make-up. I wanted to spank her – to tell her that the gym isn’t the place to impress people. I wanted to do it in front of everyone there — I’m afraid I’ll never understand people who make themselves up for absolutely every occasion.”

“Yes, yes,” she responded, rubbing the vibrator against her underwear, squishy sounds coming about.

“And then a woman got on the elliptical next to me – she was wearing tight pants and a sports bra – as she started to sweat, her nipples got hard. I tried not to look – but you know me better than that.”

“Oh, yes, I do,” she said, turning the vibrator off, standing out of the chair, and taking off her damp panties and throwing them onto my chest. The smell of her was all I could focus on. If possible, I grew even harder.

“I was fixated on the lower-back tattoo of my waitress at dinner. I kept imagining seeing it revealed as I pushed her skirt down to her ankles.”

She reached between my legs and took my balls in her hand, massaging them.

“Is that all?” she asked, treating my testicles like they were her personal stress ball. I humped the air, trying to get my shaft to touch her hand — it was a fruitless effort as my cock, screaming to be touched, found only air.

I tried to answer, but a primal need for release kept my response from being anywhere near intelligible. I responded with a series of grunts.

“You know, guys always say they would play with boobs all of the time if they had them — but I think this is far more fun,” she said, squeezing my testicles, watching me writhe.

“I really think we only got to the tip of the iceberg with your dirty little head,” said – maybe you could find other ways to entice me to let you cum.”

“Please,” I responded, and looked at her sex.

“You were thinking just what I was thinking,” and she sat on the bed, spreading her legs. I, awkwardly, catapulted myself into a position so that I was on my knees, my hands supporting just a little of my weight, and lowered my face to her cunt so that my chin rested on the bed, making a silly little triangle with my ass & feet up in the air.

And I licked.

I followed her lead. Knowing she had just finished cumming from the vibrator, I teased her lips with light licks, barely flicking my tongue over her clit every now and then. But, before long, her hands reached behind my head and guided my face, and with that, I attacked her clitoris with my tongue. As she started to moan, I took the nubbin between my lips, pulling it away from her body, gently, and lashed it with my tongue. Her hips bucked and she collapsed back onto the bed, out of the range of my mouth.

“That, baby, was amazing.” she said. “Heck, I almost felt like a guy cumming – I’m just about wiped out and useless now.”

And with that, she went over to the wine on the counter, opening the bottle and pouring a large glass. She took a large swig. “Oh, I needed this today,” she said, before offering the glass to me. I drank, as greedily as a bound guy can drink from a barely tipped glass of red. I was surprised that I didn’t spill any.

She pressed my head back, and I was, again, on my back. Lazily, she touched me all over as she savored the wine. Commonly, I would dry hump the air, my cock waving about – but, no matter what I tried, I was unable to let it make contact with her.

“You have no idea how much watching that thing flap about turns me on,” she whispered in my ear as she placed the empty glass on the bedside table. “I need it inside me right now.”

And with that, she walked across the room, grabbed the hitachi once again, and then back to me. Two hands behind my shoulder got me into a seated position, and she turned, her back to me, and lowered herself onto my member. I slid into her easily.

She turned the vibrator on, and pressed it against her clit — as I tried to pump into her, she anticipated my actions, keeping me firmly planted inside of her – unable to get much (if any) traction. I was, simply, being used as a dildo.

It did not take long before I felt her shudder from the inside out – but she didn’t stop. Soon after her first orgasm came the next several. It was only when she was letting out high-pitched yips that I finally managed to get some space between the front of my hips and her ass, but as I went to thrust myself into her (heck, between the sensation of the vibrator, the fact that I was already inside her, and how wound up I was, I was only going to take me thrust or four), I, again, met with empty air; she had stood and was walking away from me. A string of our fluids connected us until she was near on the other side of the room.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, turning around.

I let out a desperate sigh and she walked over to me, placing her breasts right in front of my face. I tried to kiss one, but she maneuvered to keep herself out of my mouth’s range.

“Oh, baby, what is it that you want?” she whispered in my ear, letting her tongue flick my earlobe.

“I want you to touch me,” I responded, and she responded, in turn, with the light, random touches about my body. My both writhed with longing. I was nearly in tears in frustration.

“I want you to touch my cock,” I said, and she then responded by taking a single finger to the top of my shaft, not moving, just placing her finger there.

I struggled in my bonds to rub my cock against the finger, but she was anticipating every movement.

“Is this not what you want? Do you want me to stroke your cock?”

“Yes, please,” I whimpered.

“Well, since you shared the ‘tip of the iceberg’ of the dirty thoughts that run through your head, I guess I’ll touch the tip of your penis,” and, with the same light-touches that she used all about my body, she lightly touched the tip of my sex with one hand. I humped the air, trying to get more of my manhood into her hand, but she was able to foresee every action I took.

“Beg me. Beg me to let you cum. Beg me for release,” she said, her voice betraying the playful tone she had been maintaining. I could tell she was relishing this power she had over me.

“Please. Please, mistress. Let me cum. Please. I beg you. Please.”

“Should I use some lube?”

“Whatever you want,” I responded.

“Whatever I want — I like the sound of that,” she replied and stood. I was near the point of tears. She went to her bag and pulled out a bottle of something without a label, squeezing a good amount of a white substance into her hand. She then came back to me and started stroking my cock.

At first, I nearly came — but held it back. And then I felt the burn. What I took to be lotion was Ben Gay. I let out a little shriek.

“Oh, is this not what you wanted?”

“I. Need. To. Cum.” I said, and, despite the painful sensation of this “lotion”, I actually felt my orgasm beginning to mount.

She stopped, completely. I whimpered.

“You don’t need to cum at all,” she said, her voice not showing any of the playful tone she had been using for most of the night. “And you’re far more fun for me when you’re hard. You’ll cum when I want you to cum.”

And with that, she slapped my balls, hard. I cried out in pain.

“Fortunately for you, I think I want you to cum in my mouth when I finally let you cum,” she said, looking at her lotion-covered hand. “Shame I hate the taste of this stuff.”

I humped the air. Again.

“I think it should wear off in, what, 8 hours?” she asked. I responded by blinking away a tear of frustration.

“Or, I guess I could wash it off,” she said with a devilish tone in her voice, leaving the room once again.

She returned with a bucket full of ice and a wash cloth. Filling the wash cloth with ice cubes, she stroked my cock, which went soft with the immediate cold. My balls tried to retract themselves into my body.

“Oh, those are my playthings, we can’t have that happen!” and she went back to her bag. Hair bands were tied about my scrotum, keeping my balls “on display” as she went back to the ice bath washing.

Every few minutes, she would take my balls in her mouth, declaring “Nope, I can still taste the nastiness,” before going back to washing.

Finally, she found my balls to taste “like me” and took my cold, flaccid shaft in her mouth. It did not take long for me to grow hard.

Once hard, she took the shaft of my cock with her hand and proceeded to work the very tip of my member with her mouth. Despite my longing to have her take more, it did not take long for the orgasm to rise. She seemed to feel it as well, and just before the first wave of cum came out of me, she took the whole of my member in her mouth, deep throating me as she stuck a finger up my ass, massaging as she tried to find my prostate. I let out a howl as I came, and she swallowed every drop that I emitted.

“Next time, you had better remember and share every sordid detail of that dirty mind of yours,” she whispered in my ear after letting my cock slide from her mouth and retracting her finger. She untied my wrist bonds. “If you don’t, I may just keep you hard all night. Or see if I can make you cum without actually ever touching that cock of yours. Or, should I say, that cock of mine — because, you know, it might be on your body, but we both know who holds the keys to it.”