I just wanted to cuddle with him. And he didn’t wake up, either. He moved, as I snuggled up to his back (he was lying on his side) and pressed my breasts against him. He muttered something as I lay my arm over his waist, but his breathing went back to really slow within a minute.I eventually drifted off too, because the next thing I remember was waking up and his face being right in front of mine. His eyes were wide open and his hand was on my hip.“Hi,” I said, still sleepy.“Hi,” he said back.Then he kissed me, and it was one of those really good kisses, and I woke up.“I’m horny,” I said, when he finished with that kiss.“I see,” he said.“You should do something about that,” I said.“Oh, I should, should I?”I nodded and reached for his penis. It was hard. In fact, it was like diamond hard. I stared into his eyes, blinking slowly, which I didn’t actually want to do because his eyes were so beautiful. I tried to stroke him, but the angle was all wrong.“What, exactly, should I do to. It pressed on his skin and enclosed him in a far more direct claustrophobic prison. A prison of the mind.It was not the first time that he had offered himself to her, or the second, but it was the first time that he had allowed her such full power over his straining body. Stretched to his physical limit by the chains in a shallow box that could have been a coffin if a coffin required its contents to be stretched and pinned like a butterfly in a case. Only one rule was in effect. She was not allowed to mark him, not allowed to leave any trace but his aches and pains. No touch of the whip, no cane or pins, no mark to ever betray his deviant need.That was what being married meant to a man who longed to be totally under the control of a professional Mistress! What a Mistress! A woman who knew just how far to push him, to make him her slave, obedient to her will. Twenty stones of femininity who could crush the defiance from him and make him truly hers. So he suffered in the box and.
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