The table was wood. Solid, sturdy, immobile. The gloves were silk. Black, long, and sheer. The chains resting on the table were polished steel, with small clamps on each end. The room was dark, with no windows. Only a single light shone from the ceiling overhead. It was, all in all, a dungeon, yet somehow it felt warm and inviting. As unfamiliar as it were, it was a room where she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged.
A slight shiver ran through her as she ran her fingers over the top of the dark wood table where her body was about to lay. She moved her gloved hands over the set of long chains as if caressing an object of great value. She picked up the chains and tested each of the clamps. Another shiver ran through her as she carefully set them back down. The clamps, like every object in the room, were soon to be used to torment her in ways she once only dreamed of… to bring exquisite pleasure to her entire body.
And slight pain.
She was aware that to achieve such heightened levels of pleasure she first needed to accept the sensations that came with it. Accept the pain she would, eagerly, knowing that on the other side of that intense sensation a divine experience of supreme pleasure awaited her body… an experience she had waited so long to achieve.
Finally, the time had come.
~
She crawled up on the table, as she had been instructed. She wore all black— a lace bra, the long gloves, and stockings that ran up her legs and crisscrossed at her hips, revealing her neat shaved pussy underneath. A perfect ensemble for what was about to come, she hoped.
She remained on the table for no more than a moment when a slight sound startled her. She glanced up as the only door to the small dark room opened. Her hand reached beneath her for the sturdiness of the table. A tremble of fear passed through her as a handsome, stern male with short brown hair and piercing eyes entered the room. He wore polished shoes, a crisp shirt and a dark grey suit that might’ve fit in at a banker’s meeting. He was no banker.
The older gentleman slowly approached the table. She smiled at him, trying to ease the tension of this first moment of their meeting. He did not return her smile. His steely gaze sent another tremble through her body. Despite knowing she was safe, she still felt vulnerable. With that vulnerability came a deep sense of trepidation as to her decision to finally go through with this. Her eyes darted to the dark walls, and the outline of the room’s single door. She knew the room to be soundproof, and there was no way out other than the door from which the gentleman had entered. A door she knew was now locked behind him. She let out a breath, trying to keep her body from shaking. She could do this, she was certain.
The rules were simple. After they began she was to be tied down. She would be unable to move, or to call for help. There was a safe word, of course, but she had no intention of using it. She intended to surrender fully to this stranger standing before her, who was to torture and tease her body in any manner he saw fit before allowing her to experience the pleasure she so desperately craved.
The idea thrilled her to no end.
She was not a submissive woman, by any means. She much preferred to take the lead in lovemaking, and men rarely objected when she had her way with them. She was a skilled lover, and enjoyed the thrill of holding a man down as she took his cock between her lips, or climbed on top of him and ground her sensual body onto his. She always took care of her lovers’ needs, and never had any complaints. She knew how to take care of her own needs as well.
This was different.
Her needs were part of this experience, but her needs were secondary to what was about to happen. Her lover may let her climax, or he may keep her on edge the entire night after teasing and tormenting her body. She had no idea what he might choose. Watching the older man staring at her, with his steely eyes drinking in her very soul, she feared he might opt to do just that—tease her endlessly, bringing her body to an edge she might never be able to cross. The thought scared her, but also brought her immense excitement.
She’d heard about such a place where bondage fantasies could be brought to life. There were no limits to the types of erotic encounters one could experience at a place like this. When she first toured the facility, she did so as merely a voyeur… a spectator to the erotic side of life. She truly had no intention of ever partaking in anything kinky, or submissive. Then, as these things often do, this changed.
She found she grew bored of dating, and the men that found their way to her bedroom. “Spank me!” she’d demand. “Pull my hair!” she’d beg. They often did little more than present a love tap on her perfect little bottom.
She needed more.
She craved more.
It wasn’t always the men to blame. Society had long been scolding men for so much as glancing at a woman. Asking a woman on a date was even a thing of the past. Women were not objects to be seduced, they were equal in every manner to men, as women should have been since the beginning of time.
Yet, a part of her yearned for that primal male to dominate her… to tell her what to do. To yes—gasp! Spank her and tease her, and even deny her an orgasm until she begged for it. In essence, she longed to be treated like a whore…
After many sleepless nights dreaming of being tied down and taken by a complete stranger, she had decided to go ahead with her fantasy. She selected something simple, an encounter with a single man, who would dominate her, and force her to submit to him. She had agreed to let him do whatever he chose with her body, with only one request—she wanted to be tied down.
She didn’t know what exactly it was about the idea of her body being tied down on a table spread-eagle, her wrists and ankles bound with rope, but she grew impossibly wet at the very idea. Maybe it was the feeling of being displayed on some sacrificial altar, like a virgin to be taken in some dark ritual. Or maybe it was the idea of being pushed down on a teacher’s desk, her knickers thrust down to her ankles as a sexy, older professor thrust his cock into her quivering quim. Or maybe her sex fantasy involved a sexy executive chef, casting aside the chopped vegetables he was preparing for dinner from his freshly oiled butcher block, and bending her over and taking her from behind as she screamed out in ecstasy.
She truly had no idea what made her so aroused thinking about being taken in such a manner upon a wooden table such as the one she was laying on, but she loved it.
The idea that her body was to be on full display, and she could do nothing to stop her lover from having her in any manner he chose drove her wild with desire. She didn’t care to know precisely why this was her ultimate fantasy… she only cared that it was finally about to come true.
~
Her name was Elsa. The man who was slowly circling the table and eyeing her supine form was named Richard, although she knew this not to be his real name. Real names were never used in such a place. Ivan was tall, powerful, and methodic in his journey around the table, surveying his subject, like a painter admiring his muse. His heels echoed as he stepped across the dark stone floor, his eyes never leaving her face. Elsa’s body quivered, her nipples hardening into diamond stones merely from his gaze.
Richard completed his circle around the table, then paused near her feet. He picked up a piece of dark rope and dragged it over her leg. Without a word, he took her foot in his hand. Slowly he began to wind the rope around her ankle. She let out a slow breath and shifted her weight back onto her hands, allowing him to do his work. Richard took his time. He bound one leg to the edge of the table, then the other, until her legs were spread open, unable to move. Laying her head back, he took her wrists above her head and began to bind them in a similar manner. He took his time as he wrapped the thick rope around her wrists several times. Elsa tested the strength of the bonds. She knew once the knots were secured there would be no way she could raise her arms, or move her body. She would be completely tied down, unable to move… unable to call anyone for help.
She was at the mercy of this complete stranger… exactly as she wished.
It was finally happening.
She was finally going to be taken… she was going to be taken, helpless and naked on a table by a complete stranger.
~
Elsa knew she was beautiful, and knew full well how to use her sexuality to seduce any man she chose. Tall, with dark, raven hair, luscious lips, and deep brown eyes that could capture the heart of any man, she didn’t simply turn heads when she entered a room… she caused men to lose all concentration when she walked by, rendering them powerless to her beauty. This experience was not about seduction… it was about submission, and she wished to learn all there was to learn.