Letters to Penthouse XXXII (9 page)

Fortunately, her store gives us access to lots of interesting toys, and countless ideas come from your magazine. I’m already
looking forward to next month.

—Mr. Oscar H., Austin, Texas
     

The first time I ever tied my girlfriend, Sonya, to the bed, we realized that we were both huge bondage fans. At the time,
we didn’t have anything else handy, so I used silk scarves. While we’d been tussling, I’d gotten her naked, delighting in
the sight of her gorgeous, tanned skin, her pert ass and generous breasts. Her hands had automatically gone over her head,
and I noticed how much she responded when I wrapped my
hands around them, so I looked around for something to tie them with. I rummaged under the bed for her pile of scarves, coming
up with two sheer red ones. I fastened them around her crossed wrists, then pulled the fabric gently into knots. “Make them
tighter,” Sonya commanded, struggling against the bonds.

I pulled the material taut so there was no possibility of escape. “Yeah, like that,” she moaned as she flexed her fingers,
grateful to be bound and under my control. Her strong arms were no match for the beautiful scarves and their sturdy knots,
and when she spread her legs in an open invitation, I slid my fingers along her slippery folds. She was totally wet, and the
more she maneuvered her arms, the wetter she got. It was time to turn things up a notch.

I untied her wrists, only to find her pouting in disapproval. “Don’t worry, I’m going to string you up good,” I said, and
she moaned once more. I grabbed some more scarves, spread her legs and arms wide, then tied each limb to one of the four bedposts.
Once she was securely spread-eagled, completely open and available to me, I sat back to look at my handiwork. Her arms and
legs were taut enough that I could see the strain on her muscles. She wiggled a little, but there was no give to her bonds.
She was held firmly in place, and I could tell it excited her by the way her chest heaved and her pussy glistened with wetness.
Sonya’s full breasts were slightly flattened by gravity, but her rosy nipples were perky, those bright buds simply begging
to be sucked. The sight of her looking so helpless and aroused got me even harder.

“Fuck me,” she begged, struggling against the scarves and arching her hips upward, offering me her pussy. I didn’t oblige
her right away. I wanted to work her up to the point where she was desperate for my cock. I took off my clothes and let her
get a good look at my body. My hard cock was already dripping and ready to plunge into her. Sonya was literally panting, but
I continued to withhold what she wanted for a little while longer. First, I ran my hands slowly over her body, kneading her
breasts and squeezing her nipples until she moaned. She was quivering all over, begging me to touch her clit and give her
some relief. I would only toy with it, though, petting her thighs and fingering her cunt, nearing her clit then backing off.

“Please, do it. I need you to touch me there,” she pleaded. Instead, I straddled her, kneeling over her so my cock was in
her line of vision, right above her pussy. I wrapped my hand around my dick and stroked myself up and down. I looked from
her face to her cunt, tapping the head of my cock against her clit, teasing her with what she wanted most. I was totally enraptured
by the sight of her squirming against her bonds beneath me, knowing she was aching for me to fuck her. It did not take long
for me to come, shooting my load all over her chest and stomach.

Sonya almost howled in disappointment at not having my cock inside her. But I was far from through
with her. I climbed off her and turned my back to her, pretending to ignore her, but secretly playing with my cock again for
a few moments. When I’d gotten it semihard, I turned around, taunting her with my erection. When she saw my erection, Sonya
again begged me to fuck her, and I could no longer resist her sweet pussy. I leaned over her and positioned my cockhead at
her slick opening. Her cunt was soaking wet and I plunged in over and over again while she writhed and moaned, pretending
that she wanted to get free, even though it was clear from the smile on her face and the wetness of her cunt that she was
loving every minute of it.

Fucking my sexy girl while she was tied up encompassed every fantasy I’d ever had. I needed no more encouragement to start
thrusting into her so hard that I pushed her down into the mattress, making her cry out in pleasure. When I placed my hands
on her upper arms, further confirming her helplessness, she moaned loudly. “I like that,” she practically whispered, her voice
hoarse with need, and as her pussy clamped down around my cock, I felt the truth of her soft words. It was such a turn-on
that it didn’t take me very long to come a second time.

Spent, I collapsed on top of her body and, after a few seconds to catch my breath, reached to untie her. “Leave them awhile,”
she said. “I love being your prisoner.”

So I sat back and gazed at her beauty in the flickering
candlelight for another fifteen minutes or so. She still hadn’t come but began moaning and thrusting against the air as the
eroticism of her bondage stirred her.

“You’re all mine,” I told her.

“You belong to me.” “Yes,” she hissed, finally coming. All it took was the briefest touch of
my fingers to bring her aroused cunt to orgasm. By lightly stroking her wet folds, I’d sent her over the edge, her hips bucking
up against me. The four bonds on her ankles and wrists tethering her to the bed were the only things holding her down. It
was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t resist sliding my fingers into her slippery folds. Immediately,
she tightened around them, and I sank four fingers inside her. Before I knew it, I was finger-fucking her fast and hard, making
her come again. Finally sated, I untied her and we both drifted off into a very satisfied sleep.

She had the day off, so I left her in bed the next morning. When I got home from work, Sonya was waiting for me, wearing nothing
but a jeweled collar and a leather thong. Small silver hoops dangled from each pierced nipple. “I think I’m going to come
in my pants,” I told her.

Instantly, she dropped to her knees and opened my fly. She pulled down my briefs and my cock sprang free. She licked the tip,
then sucked my length into her mouth. Sonya moved her head up and down, slickening my cock with saliva as she deep-throated
me. One
hand toyed with my balls, lightly squeezing them as her tongue pleasurably tormented my cock. The unexpected blowjob, delivered
with such passion and skill, had me coming less than two minutes after I’d walked in the door.

I settled onto the couch while she puttered around the living room. I couldn’t stop staring at her practically nude body.
She caught my eyes boring into her and soon she came over to straddle my lap. As we made out, my hands automatically held
her wrists behind her back. “Yes, take me.” Her words urged me on. I picked her up and carried her to my bedroom, where I
was surprised to see a coil of rope lying on the floor.

“Tie me up again,” she said breathily, gazing hungrily up at me from her half-lidded eyes. “Make it tight, the way I need
it.”

With the length of rope I was able to get a bit more creative than I had with the scarves. I told Sonya to lie on her stomach
on the bed and I bound her hands at the small of her back. Then I had her bend her knees and I bound her ankles to her wrists.
The white rope contrasted nicely with her skin and got me totally hard.

There was some rope left, so I rolled her onto her side and wrapped it under her breasts, lifting them up, then I ran the
rope back over her other shoulder to reach the knot at her wrists again. She looked so vulnerable lying there in that position,
hardly able to move. I ran my finger over her cunt, and sure enough,
she was dripping wet. “Do you like that, Sonya? Do you like being at my mercy?” I asked, my voice low.

“Yes, I love it,” she said. I dropped my trousers, pulled her body to the edge of the bed, and spread her knees apart so I
could get at her cunt. I rubbed my cock against her opening, and she cried out, flapping her legs open and then closed as
much as she could within the confines of the ropes. I held her knees apart and watched her shudder as she pressed up against
me. “Yes, fuck me!” she yelled as she tossed her head back. I crouched slightly so my dick was positioned against her hole,
then I began to fuck her.

I grabbed the knot of rope binding her body and held it as I pummeled into her from behind, thrusting hard while she moaned
in ecstasy. I reached beneath her to fondle her nipples, flicking the rings lightly as my cock slammed deep inside her cunt.
I pulled out and I gave her ass a quick slap, thrilled with the sound of flesh hitting flesh, then slid back inside her slowly.
We were both on the verge of coming. I leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Do you like being my toy? Do you like being
unable to do anything but take my cock over and over again?”

Clearly, the answer was yes, because moments later, she came, covering my cock with her juices. Her quivering pussy was too
much to resist, and I spurted into her as well. I pulled out, untied her, and held her close to me, my fingers lingering over
the pale marks the rope had left on her sensitive skin. I’m so glad I found
a woman like Sonya to explore this side of my passion with, and I can’t wait to try out more ways to please my bondage beauty.

—Mr. Art W., Chattanooga, Tennessee
     

My husband, James, is completely under my control and has been that way for the last twenty years. I often read about dominant
women who top their men by feminizing them: giving them feminine names, shaving them, and dressing them in panties. That’s
not for me—I married a man, and I want him to look like a man. Knowing that this strong, powerful person willingly submits
to me—not because I’m physically bigger than him, but because my feminine presence demands it—thrills me like nothing else.
On our wedding day he formally gave me control of his body—it was written in our vows. He craves that loss of control in all
aspects of his life. I’ve been happy to make him my servant and erotic plaything, and together we have a perfect life.

I refer to him as “my boy” when talking to friends and acquaintances. They think it is a term of endearment—and it is, but
we know its deeper meaning. He beams with pride when I refer to him as such, usually
when he’s kneeling next to me with his head resting on my lap or giving me a foot massage.

I don’t make James remain naked at home, but this doesn’t mean he’s not under my constant control. Although clothed, he is
still completely accessible to me at all times. What I’ve done is cut slits in the seat of his underwear and swimsuits. So
at any time I can sneak a finger inside or even add a butt plug. I think this makes him feel even more subservient. But most
of all, the holes serve as a reminder to him that he is always at my disposal.

I often make James masturbate in front of me, during which I dictate how he should hold himself and how fast or slow he should
move his hand. To tease him further, I only allow him to come this way once every other week. I’ll typically have him jerk
off until he’s almost at the brink of orgasm, then stop and lick my pussy until I come.

On the days that he does not masturbate, I provide the stimulation. Because James’s balls and ass are my property, I am free
to play with them whenever I like. I can spend hours stroking his cock and smooth shaven balls without allowing him to come.
Sometimes, if he has been on his best behavior, I give him a little treat. At these times, I will position James on all fours,
fuck his ass with a dildo, and jerk him off with my hand. While I’m milking him, I’ll muse aloud that my dildo could be the
cock of one of the men in the neighborhood.
The mere suggestion gets him off in no time. But, of course, he has to clean up any mess he makes.

The end result of all these rules and regulations is that James is always on edge. I need only touch his cock, and it instantly
stiffens and begins to ooze precome. He tells me that when he’s at work, he can sometimes still taste the hint of my pussy
on his tongue. That’s because another of our rules is that every single day he has to eat me to orgasm. Sometimes he does
it twice a day because he loves to worship my cunt whenever he can. Occasionally, I may put him under the table in the morning
to feast on me while I eat my cereal, squirming in delight as he dutifully laps at my sex. Other times, I may order him between
my legs while I chat on the phone or watch TV.