(i am a lucky boy in that my Owner allows me to play. one of my playmates sent me this and allowed me to share it. i really hope there’s more to…come.)
After a busy morning of meetings and phone calls,Cathy sits at her desk sorting emails,deleting,responding when necessary,when she comes across the picture he sent. Her toy,bound expertly,this shot of his ankles…something about the way the rope is wound and knotted seems so beautiful,but mostly it’s knowing that he’s helpless. Imagining the little sounds he might make as he’s maneuvered and put into position for maximum enjoyment. For Her enjoyment.
Turning in her chair she studies the antique looking table against the wall…a nice plant on it,a picture of her family in a silver frame.A nice sturdy table with a drawer…the drawer that holds some of her favorite tools…toys,you could say…then to the lower part of the table,to it’s legs.Sturdy three inck oak legs,each one with an eyebolt discreetly placed on the inside of it,a few inches from the floor.Walking over to it,she runs her hand across the surface and smiles,smooth grain against her palm,almost carressing the leg, down to the eyebolt,which she gives a good pull,and smiles.
Opening the drawer to study the contents,she picks up one of the silver handcuffs there.Attached to it,a chain,not long,with a sliding latch at it’s end,a perfect fit for the eyebolts on the table legs. Pressing the cuff to her face,she smiles at the coolness of it,and at the thought of snapping it onto his his wrist for the first time.There’s a matching chain leash with the same kind of latching mechanism at the end of it’s three foot length,which she picks up and allows to slither through her fingers,the soft shhhhhh of it nearly making her moan.His collar is as much a turn on for her as is the thought of hearing the ”click” of the leash on it. Replacing them both,she picks up and studies the small vibrator,about as big around as her thumb,smooth hard plastic with a ridged end,the base of which turns to activate a quiet and surprisingly powerful vibration.Back in the drawer it goes,after one quick pass of the vibe across each nipple,drawing them to a point through the thin fabrics of her blouse and bra.Her fingers trace the curved roundness of the latex butt-plug there,and the extra length of rope there,The nipple clamps and small chains lay there in the dim light,shiny and new.
The leather riding crop with it’s flattened end lays there,the smell of that leather almost as exciting to her as the crop itself. Breathing deeply and smiling,her fingers touch her favorite…the only toy in the drawer he’s seen yet.Her knife with it’s legstrap,the one She likes to wear especially for him,watching the look on his face when he first sees it…somewhere between fear and hunger,the struggle so evident it makes her want to slap his face.And she would,if she didn’t enjoy it so much.She’s noticed lately that it’s the first thing he looks for now when she sees him,and can see the disappointment in his eyes when it’s not part of her putfit.Touching it almost lovingly,she slides the blade from it’s sheath and places the flat of it against her cheek,against her lips,closing her eyes and touching it to her chin.Letting the blade travel down her neck to the top of her blouse,she stands it on point there,pressing it slightly,feeling it dimple her skin and then a light pop!,more felt than heard, as it just breaks the skin,her gasp making evident the pain/pleasure of it in the small office.Snapping her eyes open she pulls the blade away and studies the tip,a red tinge just barely noticeable there.Making a mental note to bring some alcohol wipes in from the supply cart,she sighs and kisses her blade,sliding it sweetly back into it’s sheath,and straps it to her thigh,the tip of it barely showing just under the edge of her skirt.He will see it there,but most people wont. She closes the drawer,with a flashing thought of someone,ANY one being able to walk in and open that drawer and see her most intimate desires laid bare.But it’s really only for him.
She returns to her desk,sitting down and reaching for her the phone,dialing…Her eyes never leave the picture on the screen,his helplessness again giving her power…In her sweetest voice…”Yes,hello,this is Cathy in 212.My computer seems to have crashed,and I HAVE to have it back up in a hurry! Could you please send someone?….that would be perfect,yes,after lunch is fine.Thank you”. Smiling as she replaces the phone,she picks up her purse and jacket and heads out to lunch.The legstrap on her thigh seems to make her walk a little taller,a little prouder.The thought of it there is exciting to her and lunch will be just a way to pass the time…until he knocks on her door.
Advertisement
0 Responses to “guest post”