I watched the photographer work, his subject’s wrists and ankles cuffed and chained to the wooden baulks of a Saint Andrew’s Cross.

Naked, except for black holdup stockings, her pussy was waxed clean, and her golden hair framed a face scrunched in displeasure. My love, Lisa, was at work, modelling for a BDSM shoot.

“Try to smile, please, Lisa.”

A sort of forced rictus spread out from her lips. I knew she didn’t like bondage work, but the fee was too good to turn down, with a slot already booked for a high-profile porn site.

The camera clicked incessantly while the photographer moved around, constantly imploring her to smile, frown, look here, there, up, and down. As an observer, I thought it was the most unsexy experience imaginable. Lisa looked bored, and I was impatient for the job to be done.

Eventually, he put down the camera and switched off the set lighting before turning to me with a wide grin and then leaving the studio.

“Where’s he gone, Stan? I want out of this.”

My impatience came from the dastardly plan I had hatched with the photographer. The scene might not have been a turn-on, but my plans certainly were. I had been salivating all the way through, my cock hard in my trousers.

As I walked over to her, she twisted her neck, following my progress with her eyes. Standing directly behind her, with her buttocks just touching my trousered thighs, I stretched forward and kissed her on the lips. Lisa responded, as she always did, opening up to let my tongue into her mouth.

Breathing heavily, I broke the kiss.

“Please get him to release me, Stan.”

I shook my head, placed my hand on her buttocks, and then slipped it between her thighs, searching for her pussy lips.

“You’re wet. Lisa. I thought you didn’t like bondage.”

“It turned me on having you watch, but now I want to go home and let you fuck me.”

My finger slid up and down her slit, then inside her hole, working her juice up and over her stiffening clit. Each time I touched her little shaft, she shuddered and flexed against the restraints.

“Please, Stan.”

Her pleading was unmistakable.

“Please, what, Lisa?”

“Make me cum; I need it.”

My finger worked over her clit; the motion turned circular, putting constant pressure on her sensitive head. Lisa’s breathing became laboured, her body squirming against the bonds. My gaze fixed into the depths of her eyes as I carried her nearer to the peak.

“Look at me, Lisa; I want to see your eyes.”

Like a good slut, she tried her best, but eventually her body succumbed to its base need, her eyeballs rotated up, and I was left looking at two white eyes before stepping away, leaving her completely isolated from my touch.

If she had not been bound, her body would have jerked and rolled, but cuffed into place, she was limited to vast shudders ripping through her with every muscle in spasm. Her mouth was wide open, as if to scream, but the only sound she made was a series of low grunts that accompanied the orgasmic jolts coursing from her clit to her brain.

Finally, her head slumped forward, her breathing fast and shallow as she desperately tried to regain control of her body.

The ennui I had felt earlier was long gone. Now I was aroused beyond all belief, my cock a rod of steel. I wanted her and needed to pump my seed deep into her hole.

I wrapped my arms around her body, feeling for the softness of her breasts. My fingers found her little nipples and stroked the soft tips very gently, forcing them to harden and protrude from her flesh.

“Oh, Stan, that is so beautiful. Please release me so we can go home and fuck.”

That was not my plan! Instead of doing her bidding, I lowered one arm and pushed the hand through her crotch from behind, using my palm to cover her mound and vigorously masturbate her whole clitoral area.

Her body responded almost immediately, while little whimpers escaped her lips. My stimulation became harder and faster, and the sound of her wetness filled the room.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna cum again.”

She threw her head back and howled as an orgasm wracked her body for the second time. I watched her fingers curl tight, then fly straight as wave after wave of pleasure rode through her whole body.

I was at the end of my tether, and even as the convulsions were still travelling her frame, I dropped my trousers, bent my knees, held my shaft vertical, and then thrust up from below, straight into her sopping wet cunt.

On autopilot, I thrust deep inside, time and time again, hearing the slap of my flesh on her two cheeks until I felt the surge of semen flowing up to its destination. With my hands clamped on Lisa’s sides, I came hard. My shouts of triumph joined Lisa’s screaming as a third orgasm rampaged through her body.

My limp shaft slipped out of her tunnel as I pushed my body away from hers. Lisa was spent, her wrists limp, and her head hanging down. I marvelled at the sheen of perspiration covering her body. As I watched drops run down her back, I realised my shirt was glued to my chest and back. I had forgotten just how well the studio was heated for the shoot; even a slut in bondage must be kept warm!

I dropped to my knees, then bent forward to start releasing the clamps binding her ankles to the cross. As I worked, I touched my lips to her big toe and licked along its length before shifting to the adjacent digits, wetting all five. I then shifted to the other foot, giving it the same loving, tender attention.

Standing again, I released the cuffs on her wrists. She swivelled around, clasped her hands behind my neck before collapsing against me, planting her lips against mine, and then pushed her tongue into my mouth.

As our kissing lips parted, Lisa whispered, “Take me home; I want your cock in me again, Stan.”