Buying the Virgin

Chapter 49: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Five

I protest. “Michael… my clothes…”

“Fuck it. I’ll buy you another. It’s worth it to see that expression on your face…” He reaches down, and

fingers looped through my bikini bottom, again literally rips it apart and pulls it off me, leaving me naked

and bound.

This is a side of him I’ve not seen before….

He wants me to fight him?

I lock my ankles together. He hasn’t won yet.

Michael stands, towering over me. Methodically, he strips off his shirt and jeans. His erection is huge.

He is seriously turned on.

Then he notices my locked ankles, my tightly clamped thighs. “Really?” he comments, then vanishes

off, somewhere out of my sight.

He returns, seconds later, with …

There is a buzz.

Oh, God….

Michael takes his vibrating egg, fiddling with it for a second. The buzz gets louder. “Low power only for

now,” he says. Then he pushes it between my thighs, squeezing it over my sweat slickened skin, in and

down…. and in….

No amount of tightening or pressure from me will stop this. The smooth, slippery object simply glides

past my skin. He inserts it inside me, pushing it deeply in, until my whole pussy and core are humming

in resonance with it, setting me a-tremble.

Oh, God….

I’ll leave you to get used to that for a minute. Don’t go away.”

He returns, this time with rope. “You didn’t think I came here without everything we might need?”

The rope is the kind of soft silken stuff that works well on skin, binding without digging in, but the length

of it…

What is he going to do?

He glances around the room, then I see him measuring with his eye the space between the wall I am

tied to, and the foot of the bed.

He grabs my locked ankles. “I could just prise you open you know,” he says, “force my cock inside you.

But I’ll have more fun this way.”

The vibe inside me is in fact, making it very difficult for me to keep my legs together. My pelvis is

shuddering and shaking, my pussy liquefying.

He seizes me by my locked ankles, pulling me straight, squaring me up to the foot of the bed. Looping

one end of the rope around an ankle, he tugs at it, to slide it between my feet. Then he stretches out

the rope, coiling it around the upright on one side of the four-poster, and then the other side, before

stretching it back, tensioning the rope a little, and tying the end to my other ankle.

“You see,” he says, conversationally, “I can do this now.” And he pulls at the rope. As it pulls, my ankles

are firmly and irresistibly prised apart, my legs opened.

He pulls on the rope until my ankles are about a foot apart. He surveys me. “You know, I think we can

do better than that.”

He unties one ankle, all the while holding a tight grip on my leg, and then reties me at the knee. He

repeats this on my other leg.

Then he tightens the rope again. Now I am opened at the knee. Flat on my back, arms tied back

beyond my head, I am opened and displayed, my pussy in full view, opened, melting.

And all the while, the egg is purring away inside me.

I am volcanically aroused. My steaming cunt sends heat washing over my skin; my breasts, my face.

Michael sits down beside me on the floor, looking into my face. “Yeah…. that’s the look…” With one C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

finger, he twiddles at my clit, making me jerk and buck. “You look amazing, but you know, I’m going to

see how hard I can make you scream, without actually leaving stripes on you. There’s more than one

way to skin a cat.”

?

?

“Don’t go away.”

He returns with a bag. Reaching inside, he pulls out a variety of objects, showing each one to me in

turn, before laying it, neatly, on the floor. Several vibes in different sizes and shapes; massagers,

feathers, vibes, clamps….

Clamps?

Where the hell has he got this lot from? I’ve never seen them before…

“You’ve got to be careful with the human body you know,” he says. “The senses can be deceptive. Too

much stimulation in any one area and the sensitivity dies away. You have to start gently and work

upwards, to keep up the tension….”

He lets that sink in. “I’m a masseur, among other things. You know that. So, I know quite a lot about

anatomy, physiology…. and I love that expression you’ve got right now. You have no idea what I’m

going to do to you, have you?”

Bound and quivering, I shake my head. He’s right. I have no idea. What is he going to do? Torture me

with feathers? For the first time ever, I feel a frisson of fear of Michael and what he might do.

Jeez, but I want to fuck….

“Ah,” he raises a finger. “Nearly forgot. Back in a mo…”

He leaves the room, returning after a minute with a glass jug. “I chose this one, so you can see what’s

inside.”

Water, rattling with ice….

My whole body is taut, tensioned. And trembling…

“I thought I just wanted to fuck you. To make you look at me the way I want you to. But that can come

later. There’s no hurry.”

He runs his hands, palms flat down over the slick skin of my belly and breasts. Looking down between

my thighs at my sex, the egg is still merrily buzzing away inside me, vibing through my core and clit. He

reaches in, hooking it out. “That’s done its job. Don’t want you losing your sensitivity…. Gotta have a

taste though.” He sucks one of his fingers clean.

“Mmm, lovely.” He sticks his fingers back inside me again, coating himself with my juices, then pushes

his hand at my mouth. “Open up. Suck yourself off me.”

Obediently, I clean his fingers with my tongue, and all the while, he watches my face.

Michael bends down, face close to my sex, and ‘Aaahhhhs’ warm breath over my exposed core. I

whimper, shuddering.

Then he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, touching me nowhere else.

I moan, eyes squeezing closed. My head would fling back, were I able, but in my restricted position, flat

on the carpet, I cannot.

“Mmm… can’t quite reach you easily like that.” He fishes a pillow from the bed, and with little apparent

effort, heaves me up at the hips, shoving it under me.

He’s so strong…

My pelvis lifted by the pillow, spine arched, I am even more exposed. I sigh in relief as some of the

tension on my knees is eased by my new position, but Michael notices.

“Can’t be having that. Definitely don’t want you relaxing.” He tightens up the rope again, further

spreading me.

“That’s better. Now, let’s have another go at this.”

Reaching into the jug, he fishes out an ice cube. Fingers dripping, he dribbles chilled water over my

flushed stomach and waist.

“Aaahhhh….”

The ice cube held between finger and thumb, he circles my left nipple, sending electric tingles jolting

down through my core. The nipple, smooth and soft in the heat, crinkles to a tight nub, a hard bud,

projecting clear of the breast.

“That’s better.” Michael picks up a small clamp, holding it in front of my face for a moment, snapping

the teeth at me in demonstration, then gently, clips it over the nipple.

It is excruciating.

I scream, and my pussy convulses, gushing. Hips juddering, I gasp and cry out.

Michael sits back, watching me for a moment until I calm down a bit, then reaches out, and very gently,

squeezes the clamp.

This time I shriek, struggling and straining against the bonds holding me.