Club Agony & Ecstasy Box Set (3 page)

“You feel so fucking wet,” he gasped, “hotter and wetter than ever...”

He was right about that, and I was about to drown his tool again, with a flood of my own nectar this time. My clit was soaked, and I knew if he touched it I’d go off in a second. I looked at him, stared into his eyes as I stroked those last cocks, and I knew he wasn’t going to last long in that delicious pool of cum inside me.

He knew it too, reaching down to rub my sensitive little nub as he pounded into me furiously, intent on his own pleasure at long last. He felt bigger, harder than ever, and I couldn’t take it anymore; an intense and final wave of pleasure washed over me, drenching his invading delicious tool with a last gush.

I remember Daniel’s cock going off inside me; his elixir seeping out as I struggled to regain my balance, my composure. I was dizzy; exhausted, and needed a moment to steady myself and become coherent.

How long the rest of them were there I don’t remember, it didn’t matter anymore. They had agreed to their roles and their scene was finished, leaving just Daniel and I in the room now, still sweltering hot and reeking of sex.

I rested for a moment beside him, leaning against him as I steadied my breathing. He looked exhausted too, sweat still clinging to his hair and he lay beside me.

“Happy Anniversary baby,” he whispered, squeezing my hand tightly, “you look a little...are you ok, you don’t regret tonight?”

“Not at all,” I assured him, “just imagining how you’re going to top this next year!”

He didn’t say anything but chuckled a little, pulling me close to lean on his chest.

Sometimes the best gifts are the ones you can share with others.

I wasn’t sure why I had agreed to it in the first place. Sure, money’s been tight; but a bondage magazine? What had I gotten myself into?

There was the odd pin up style shoot I and a few ‘artistic nudes’, but mostly I wore clothing---even if it was skimpy, and I’ve never been tied up. Handcuffs a few times, yes---but nothing like this.

Regardless, it had to be done now; I needed the cash, I signed the contract---and what's the exciting life of a model without a few risque shoots, right?

The photographer had arranged to use some of the private rooms at one of the S+M clubs just outside of town for what he called a ‘japanese bondage spectacle’. From what I could see on the internet, it looked pretty tame, just ropes and knotwork; none of the gags, hoods and freaky stuff. He assured me there would be ‘nothing penetrative’. Well, isn’t that thoughtful.

When I arrived, a very courteous young lady in a maid costume was more than willing to assist me in navigating the huge facility. She led me down a long hall, dutifully peering in to make sure it wasn’t in use before ushering me inside.

The photographer was there already, and there was a huge assortment of heavy silk ropes in vibrant colors laid out on a large table in front of him. He looked up from his laptop and smiled when he saw me, extending his hand.

“Good, you didn’t chicken out,” he chuckled, “I’m Richard.”

“Nope...this is quite the place! And I’m Michelle.”

“Yes...it is. You look just as lovely in person, I promise to do you justice with these photos. My assistant will be doing the ropework, I’m just taking the pictures.”

He pointed to the back of the room where a younger guy was sitting on the floor, fiddling with some of the camera equipment. He was cute in an offbeat way; messy dark hair and glasses; baggy jeans and a hoodie.

The photographer approached me, looking around the room at the setup.

“So...I’m pretty well ready for you here, your makeup looks good. Whenever you’re ready you can undress and we’ll get started.”

He handed me a robe, presumably for in between photo sets; but modesty seemed a little out of place here so I didn’t bother with it. He’d told me makeup wasn’t much of an issue, so I’d kept it simple and natural except for a swipe of deep red lipstick.

“Brandon, we’re all ready here, whenever you are.”

The cute assistant got up and made his way over. He was probably around my age, 25, with a bit of a goatee and scruff that gave him a just-woke-up kind of look. The dishevelled hair and glasses were a nice change from the uptight hipsters I’m stuck with at work too, all worked up that their shoes are from last year’s line. His dark eyes were intense, penetrating; and he was well built with large hands. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had a cock to match up...probably not the best time to be lewdly undressing a guy with my mind but hey, it was a sex club!

“Ok, lets get started,” Richard announced, holding up what I guessed would be my sole accessories for the first photos---three red silk ropes.

Brandon nodded and motioned for me to follow him.

“Perfect, come with me please.”

No problem.

He led me to a section of the room with luxurious drapes hanging from the tall windows, nothing to give away the rooms true purpose but a few steel eyebolts fixed into the floor and ceiling, elegantly disguised by the yards of hanging fabric. It was a far cry from the shackles and stocks I’d been imagining when I signed on, but definitely a nice surprise.

Brandon grabbed the ropes and held them for a moment, studying me. He lifted my wrists and passed one of the ropes over each, securing my arms at the back with a series of woven knots. He looped it around me a few more times, each pass making the bindings more restrictive.

“Can I get you down on your knees?”

That had most polite way I’ve ever been asked that question...

“You sure can,” I babbled, realizing immediately I sounded like a complete moron.

He smiled a little at my response, which I took to be a good thing. My ankles were bound the same as my wrists, and Brandon connected them together, lurching my body into a backwards bend with my breasts pointing upwards. The rest of my body was free, and felt oddly tactile, as though having part of me immobilized heightened the sensitivity elsewhere.

I was surprised how delicious and sexy the thick silk ropes felt on my skin, and after a few shots I was decidedly more relaxed. Being nude in front of strangers wasn’t new, considering my job, but being tied up at the same time was different, and not as unnerving as I’d originally thought. After the first few sets I’d almost forgotten the camera was going off, and the bindings felt more natural, like a part of me.

Modelling while trussed up in knotwork is actually fairly simple, the rope does all the work so you can just relax and be photographed. Add in the nudity and a hot guy watching me and I couldn’t help but let my mind wander a little. I was looking at him, admittedly more than I should have been, and there was no way he didn’t notice. He was definitely distracted, I could see it his eyes.

“Ok...next set is the rope dress and arm bindings, dress first, then the whole outfit.”

Richard’s voice startled me a bit, I’d almost forgotten about him.

Brandon headed back towards me, carrying an armful of ropes this time; and began by looping a segment around the back of my neck and creating a series of small knots down the front.

I was a little surprised when he ran it between my legs a few times before connecting to the waist, and gave sharp tug to secure the knot; causing the whole set of ropes to shift and press against my pussy. I stifled a moan, but he could hear my breath quicken and looked clear into my eyes as he did it again.

Damn. This guy knew what he was doing; it was like he wanted to see my reaction. He held my gaze and continued his art, looping the rope through the knots he’d made, creating a web of knots and rope that seemed to hit every pressure point on my body. Every piece was connected, and I couldn’t move in the slightest without exerting the most exquisite pressure on my clit, and I could feel a slow drizzle of my pussy nectar seeping out, permeating the silken cord that was driving me to distraction with it’s subtle movements.

His hand moved slowly, weaving the thick cord around my breasts; capturing them with his expert loops and twists. They were bound separately and stuck straight out in a perverse way, like they were begging to be noticed and manhandled. Maybe that was just me.

“Is it...fitting comfortably?”

He was teasing me a little, his lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Very much so,” I replied, more bold this time “it’s perfect.”

He raised an eyebrow and nodded, looking at his handiwork with pride.

“Indeed it is.”

The next set of photos seemed endless, I just wanted to get to the next binding; to feel his hands on my skin, tightening the ropes to squeeze my throbbing clit even more. He returned to adjust the knots after god knows how many photos, letting the free end of the rope graze across my nipples; already stiff and aching from the constant pressure of the ropes. I could hardly maintain a steady breath, and he was watching every movement I made, like he knew what I would do before I did it.

“Can we do a couple with your legs spread, Michelle?”

Richard was the master of timing, I had to appreciate that.

Brandon watched, shamelessly; studying my movements under the duress of his expert knots. His eyes were locked on my shaved cunt, mostly hidden by the thick ropes that were squeezed into my slick folds, but still quite visible. I splayed my legs open salaciously, looking at him whenever I didn’t have to look into the camera; hoping to provoke a response.

“These are great, I wanna do a few with you just kinda naturally struggling on the floor....just try to get out of the ropes and hold a position every few minutes, ok?”

“Uh huh...sure,” I managed, and dropped to my knees on the floor, “like this?”

I rolled onto my side some and pulled on the rope, actually trying to get myself out. I knew there was no point, even with my hands free I wouldn’t have been able to figure it out. But having the freedom to move felt good, awakening my nerves as I twisted against Brandon's artistic knotwork, vainly attempting to free myself.

“Perfect!”

Richard nodded enthusiastically and was back to his usual position behind the camera.

I had Brandon’s strict attention; he was standing just to the side of me and I could see him easily but he wasn’t visible to Richard---at least I didn’t think so. His eyes were fixed on me, more so than before, watching as I tried to break free of the stubborn bindings. I felt raw and primal, writhing like an animal in heat; tied down and starving for relief.

His pants were definitely tightening across the front and I could see the unmistakable lump of a stiff cock. I had to remind myself to look at the camera, my mind was so distracted; and it didn’t help when he moved his hand down to give his package a squeeze, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips. He was enjoying my torment, taking cruel pleasure in seeing me twist and grind against his elegant handiwork.

I pulled my arms forward as much as possible, tightening the ropes against my pussy with a

sharp tug; luxuriating in the small relief it brought my aching clit as I ground my crotch against the juice sodden ropes that imprisoned my pussy.

The sudden sound of a cheesy pop song---Richard’s ringer---broke the building tension and snapped me back to reality. I took a moment to catch my breath and realized I was flushed and felt lighter; not dizzy but just lighter somehow.

“I gotta take this, gimme five minutes...Brandon get her ready for the next set”

Richard grabbed his phone, dashing out the door to answer.

“Yeah...will do.”

I could hear the tension in his voice; hollow and raspy. He waited until Richard left the room before coming back over, and stood in front of me for a moment; his eyes travelling all over my bound body. The rope between my legs was soaked, and the scent of pussy juice was unmistakable; there was no way he couldn’t smell it.

“Are you...enjoying my work?”

His hands were on me, untying the dress of knots he’d so carefully placed. This time they lingered, longer than necessary and seemed to have a magnetic effect; awakening my flesh in a way I’d never felt.

“Yes, more so than I thought I would,” I managed, “you’re very good at what you do.”

“It helps to have a willing participant.” He said with a sly grin; his eyes moving to the soggy bit of rope between my thighs.

“I’m a very willing participant,” I assured him . He didn’t reply but moved closer and turned me around to untie the back. He was pressed close against me and I could feel his stiff cock sticking out, nudging me through his pants. How long had it been hard? He certainly seemed to enjoy that last photo set. My heart was pounding and I was starting to perspire lightly.

He tugged on the knots with more force this time and I could feel shocks of pleasure flowing through me, down the intricate knotwork to my dripping clit. He was teasing me, taking his time untying the silken ropes and letting them glide over my skin with that sweet torment. he seemed to enjoy doling out. My cunt was dripping already, worked into a frenzy by the slow, deliberate shifting of the ropes.

He freed my arms but I held the position, liking the way it made my tits stick out proudly and drew attention to my nipples. He was less gentle now, and it felt good---I was like a ragdoll under his hands, his expert bindings. I wanted to use my newly freed hands on him, to feel the heat of his body and the thick rod pressed against me. He knew it too, and rewarded my shameless display with a thrust of his hips, driving his hard cock into the cleft of my naked ass.

“Ahhhh......”

I let out an involuntary sigh, the pressure was building in my body; the slow nagging ache of desire yet to be fulfilled.

He released the knot at my waistline, spinning me around to face him. His hands traced down my collarbone, freeing my breasts from their delightful captivity. The ropes that had been wedged between my legs, now sodden with my juices; fell away, leaving me completely nude once again.

He glanced down at the ropes, no doubt looking at the lovely mess I’d made of his fancy ropes. He picked them up, holding them close enough to smell my urgency and it wasn't hard to see the darkened wet patches where the bindings had coaxed a torrent of liquid from my tightly bound cunt.