at my silky pink knickers. My arousal is more than obvious. With a finger he traces a line from one bent knee up along my bare thigh and across the loops of rope. I shudder with pleasure as he draws his finger up the soaked little crease. He teases me, stroking me through my sodden knickers, flicking my clit and pressing his knuckle against the warm wet centre of my sex, the place that hungers for penetration.
I long for him to slip his finger underneath the elastic, to tear away the sheer material that separates us. The bells register my frustration as I twist in my bonds, straining with my hips to press harder against his questing fingers.
Then he moves away and I whimper with longing, not daring to beg him or make demands. Some primal instinct tells me I must wait for his favours and rewards. Like a good little slave, I think, and the thought makes me even wetter.
He returns with another rope and this one he fastens to the tangle of knots that bind my legs. It drops it down between my folded knees, where it hangs for a moment, loose and limp. But the look in his eye tells me that this rope is not as innocuous as it looks. And I understand when he swishes the frayed end of the rope through the air like a whip and then flicks it sharply against my pussy.
I yelp, more out of surprise than pain. The little stroke makes my cunt throb and I hold my breath as he raises the rope again. He brings it down briskly on my swollen mound and this time I cry out in earnest. I struggle in my bonds but there’s no way I can escape the sweet torture. Again and again he inflicts it on me and each time I feel my sex burn more fiercely in response. My knickers are drenched by the time he finally stops but he isn’t finished with me yet.
He draws the rope tight up against my sex and feeds it around behind me, forcing me to straddle it. He tightens it slowly, increasing the pressure until he is satisfied. The rope vibrates slightly as he secures it behind me. The pressure against my clit is immediately almost more than I can take. I whimper, writhing helplessly, but every movement only serves to increase the friction, to stimulate me further.
Gasping and panting, I feel each little throb the rope forces from my tender sex. Brian’s hands reach around me from behind to clasp my breasts, and my nipples tighten like pebbles inside my T-shirt. I’m not wearing a bra and his fingers find the hard little knots and close around them, pinching them cruelly.
I throw my head back and arch my back, crying out as the crotch rope presses into me again. I’m lost somewhere between pain and pleasure and I don’t know which is which any more.
He drags the front of my shirt up to expose my breasts and then pulls it the rest of the way up over my head, anchoring it behind my neck so my breasts are fully on display. Goose flesh springs up along every inch of bare flesh but it’s not from the chilly air of the church. My muscles quiver, straining against the unfamiliar position. Every movement, however small, triggers an equal response from the ropes binding me. It is as though the ropes are a living creature, one that tightens its grip on me with each little struggle.
Brian kneads my breasts from behind, playing with my nipples and kissing the back of my neck. My skin tingles all over and the crotch rope is in danger of wrenching a powerful climax from me already. Apparently sensing my nearness, Brian stops and loosens the rope. I whimper in protest.
‘No, no,’ he says with a chuckle.
Bereft of its stimulation, my clit throbs even more insistently, its pulses so desperate they almost hurt. There is nothing in the world I want more right now than to come and I wriggle and squirm to beg for it with my body.
‘Please,’ I whisper.
But he is a cruel, teasing master. ‘Not yet,’ he says firmly.
The authority in his voice makes me melt and I close my eyes, abandoning myself to whatever further torments he has in mind. I’m desperate for release but at the same time I never want the moment to end.
I moan with frustration until I hear the sharp snick of a blade. My heart leaps like a fish in my chest but I force myself to keep my eyes closed. He wants me to trust him and I do. Completely.
‘Stay perfectly still,’ he tells me, his voice a silky whisper in my ear.
I nod to show him that I will, demonstrating with my stillness that I will do whatever he tells me, that I am completely his.
There is the icy bite of cold steel against my bare thigh and I grit my teeth, willing myself to be absolutely still. He draws the blade along my trembling skin before slipping it beneath the edge of my knickers. The wispy silk falls away to one side and I writhe a little at the exposure. He slices through the other side and I am completely exposed for him.
‘Good girl,’ he says, rewarding me with the touch of his warm fingers against my swollen clit.
I gasp and roll my hips, my thighs quivering and straining with the position. But the helplessness is exquisite.
With both thumbs he spreads the lips of my pussy and my face burns hotly at the exposure. He teases the wet opening of my vagina and I nearly scream when he finally slips a finger inside. He swirls it around inside me and my body feels electrified. I throw my head back with a gasp and look up into the tower. If only the bells were free of their muffles; their wild jangling might serve as the voice of my body, filling the air with an unrestrained peal of ecstasy.
I flash back on all the orgasms he has given me over the past few days and nights. After each I was certain there could never be another one as intense, as knee-tremblingly euphoric. And each new one proved me wrong. If I weren’t suspended as I am, I have no doubt that my legs would give way in response to what he’s doing to me now.
I feel the pads of his thumbs on either side of my clit, pressing gently against it, circling it, sweeping across it. When he lowers his mouth to me I know it will only be a matter of seconds. The warm wetness of his tongue flicks across my clit as he splays my lips wide with his fingers. Then he closes his lips around me and sucks the hard little bud into his mouth. Sudden bright pain blossoms into pleasure and it takes me a moment to recover from the surge of sensation. He does it again and I feel his fingers slide closer and closer until he fills me again, this time with more than one. He draws his head back and brushes the tender head of my clit with his lips, exhaling hot breath on it before lapping gently at it again. At the same time he draws one wet finger down the dewy crease of my sex and up between my clenching cheeks. And as he tongues my clit with his fingers deep inside me, I feel him slip another finger into my arse.
The combination of sensations overwhelms me and I surrender to the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Not caring who hears, I send a wild and primal scream up into the tower. The bells may be gagged but I’m not. I thrash in my bonds, securely restrained and powerless, at the mercy of devastating waves of ecstasy.
When the last little throbs finally begin to diminish, I lie panting in my cage of ropes, swaying gently back and forth as my body tingles and tiny fireworks dance behind my eyes. I let go of the fluffy grips and the ropes support me under my arms. Limp and utterly spent, I feel as weightless as an astronaut adrift in space. I could just float here forever.
I don’t know how long Brian waits before speaking. Minutes? Hours? Days? I have absolutely no sense of time and I barely even recognise my own name when he says it. But I can feel my limbs beginning to protest, and the tingling eventually brings me back down to earth even though it’s the last place I want to be.
I’m struggling to find words but when I see the delighted expression on Brian’s face I realise I don’t need to say anything at all. All my shame has been purged and I don’t care what a lewd exhibition I make, splayed and exposed and suspended from
