Bound and Vulnerable

She lay sprawled across the St. Andrew’s cross, her body open and vulnerable to her dominant’s touch. Her wrists and ankles were secured with soft, velvety ropes that held her firmly in place, and her heart raced with anticipation as she awaited her master’s touch.

Her dominant stood before her, admiring the sight of her bound and at his mercy. He ran his fingers along her exposed flesh, feeling her shudder with pleasure at his touch. He knew how to touch her, how to bring her to the brink of ecstasy and then pull back, leaving her wanting more.

He trailed his fingers down her body, across her breasts and over her taught stomach, stopping to tease her sensitive navel before continuing on to her inner thighs. She gasped as he neared her most intimate spot, her hips bucking into the air as she begged for more.

But he was in control, and he would not be rushed. He traced a path back up her body, lingering on her nipples, pinching them gently between his fingers until they hardened into tight peaks. She moaned, arching her back, desperately seeking more contact.

Finally, he relented, and he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing small circles that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She cried out, her climax building quickly as he continued to touch her, bringing her to new heights of pleasure with each passing moment.

But just as she was about to tip over the edge, he pulled away, leaving her panting and frustrated. She looked at him with pleading eyes, but he merely smiled and shook his head. He would not give in to her demands, not yet.

He began to touch her again, his fingers exploring every inch of her body as she writhed and moaned beneath him. She begged for release, but he would not give in, instead teasing her and bringing her to the brink of orgasm again and again.

Finally, when she was on the verge of tears, he gave her what she wanted. He touched her clit once more, applying the perfect amount of pressure as she finally reached her climax, crying out as waves of pleasure washed over her.

She lay there, spent and satisfied, as he untied her from the cross and gathered her in his arms. She was his, completely and utterly, and she would always be at his mercy.

© Seductive Poetry