Boy Sexting Me: This Dick Would Look So Good In Your Pretty Little Mouth You'd Like That Huh

Mood:

In need of attention and affection.

Don’t worry kitten. You’ll feel daddy’s dick in this tight ass of yours soon enough

Conquered (denial fantasy)

I pout a little as Sir pulls me off the couch onto my feet.

“But I’m not sleepy yet!” I say, looking up at his caring, and slightly amused expression. “I wanna keep talking.”

Sir simply shakes his head with an amused smirk. He walks slightly behind me, but still to the side, and gently places his hand on my shoulder, touching my neck and making me melt a little inside. “It’s late,” he says as he guides us out of the living room. He holds me a little closer as we pass through the door, and he continues, “You know you need to go to sleep early, or you’ll be tired for all of tomorrow.”

I know he’s right, and that I should sleep, but I’m still buzzing a little from our conversation, my mind thinking about a million different things at once. We walk up the stairs, our little debate as to whether or not I should sleep playfully continuing along the way. As we reach the door to my room, I turn around before we quite go in.

“Could we at least play a little first?” I ask, going a little pink, not used to having to initiate playtime with my words instead of my actions. “We haven’t played since this morning!”

Sir chuckles, laughing with an exhale through his nose. He turns me back around with my arm. “Come on,” he says simply as he guides me into the room. He sits on the bed, bringing me with him. He pats the middle of the bed, gesturing for me to get in.

I sit on top of the bed, going cross legged in the middle of the bed, making it quite apparent that I’m not getting in. I place my hands in the gap between my legs, playing with the sheets while I smile defiantly at Sir.

He seems unfazed; Raising his eyebrows, he nods with his persistent smile of amusement still on his face. Sir stands, and makes his way over to the cupboard where we keep our toys. I smile; “I’ve won,” I think to myself.

He returns with a length of rope. I feel my face get a little warm with excitement as he approaches. “Strip,” he says simply, holding the rope as he watches with an expression that holds a little more excitement than usual, and I can’t help but wonder what he has planned. Regardless, I’ve gotten my way and I don’t argue, happy that he’s not putting me to sleep immediately.

After having removed my skirt and blouse, I slide my thumbs under the hem of my panties, preparing to remove them, but Sir stops me.

“No, leave it on,” he says as he places the rope on the bed, holding an end by his side as his other hand places itself on mine. I remove my fingers from the hem, and look at him curiously. “I want you to keep your panties and bra on.”

I nod, my eyes lifting a little, taking his preference as a sign that he too is in the mood to play. He gestures for me to move to the side of the bed, and I oblige, sitting with my legs off the side and my hands in my lap. He wastes no time, moving my hair to begin the restraint, curling over my shoulders, around my sides, he works his way around my torso securing my arms to my side.

With a large amount of rope left, he helps me move to the center of the bed before beginning to tie my legs into a spread position, beginning to tie me to the bed as well as myself. I feel my arousal building, my breathing becoming heavier as he moves around my body, occasionally being a little rough to secure a rope, but somehow being gentle the entire time. As my body becomes entangled with an expertly placed web of rope, I feel the entire restraint becoming tighter, restricting my ability to move more and more.

He finishes by tying the rope behind my neck to the headboard, making me attached to the bed by my torso, and each leg, which are spread and being somewhat revealing to my desire.

Sir steps back, looking over his handiwork, admiring my body. His smile returns, replacing his (somewhat adorable) look of concentration that occupied his face while tying me down.

I look up at his face, shifting somewhat, unable to move more than a few inches in any direction, an aroused mess, waiting for him to touch. I squirm a little in place, trying to get contact with something.

“There,” he says, leaning down to brush my hair away from my face before gently kissing my forehead. “Maybe now you’ll go to sleep.” My heart falters.

“But…” I say, before he gingerly places his finger on my lips. I look up at him, my sex throbbing with need.

He walks to the door, flips the light switch. “Sweet dreams,” he says, and closes the door behind him.

He didn’t come back until morning.