Homecoming

"Spread your legs." He spread them wider and he heard her grab something from the couch. She attached a cuff to his ankle. A spreader bar. God, what else had she brought down? Had she expected him to fail her quiz?

The bar forced his legs even further apart, to the edge of the pillow, and put strain on his groin and thighs. Light strain, but he knew he would feel it in about an hour. The strain on his groin seemed to arouse him even more though, and he wondered at it. He didn't usually get off in bondage.

The view from behind was magnificent, at least to Maggie. Alluring. Sergei's hair was slightly damp with sweat, and the way it clung to the nape of his bowed neck made Maggie wet. His neck was so perfect. Her eyes traveled lower, down his shoulders and back and arms, muscles taught in tension, and slick with perspiration, collecting in the small of his back before running down between the cleft of his buttocks. His balls hung below, in full view with his legs spread so far. Vulnerable. Sweat dripped from them. He was nervous. But he was aroused, Maggie knew it. His skin was flushed with it. His cock was hard with it. Despite the bondage.

But she knew when she brought out her next toy, he would resist. He would resist insistently. She picked up the ballgag and walked out in front of him. His head remained bowed. Like a good boy, Maggie smiled.

"Look at me." He did. When he saw what she held in her hand, his eyes widened in panic and he looked up at her.

"No." He shook his head. "No, no, no, no."

Maggie said nothing, expecting this reaction. She did nothing but slowly start to strip off her pants, then slowly, step out of her panties. Her eyes watched Sergei the entire time. She watched him watch her wrap her soaked panties around the gag, putting the crotch just so.

When he looked up, she was there to meet his gaze. It was frantic, desperate.

He shook his head again, mouth hanging open. "No….Please," he begged her. "Please, Maggie, not that. Please. It hurts," he whispered.

She closed her eyes. God, did he even know what his voice did to her?

"I know."

"It's torture to me. You know that." His voice trembled, his lip trembled. His eyes begged her with everything he had. She shuddered, almost coming. Goddam, those words....that voice.....

"I know."

"I can't, Maggie." A hoarse whisper.

"You will." A hoarse command.

He moaned. She started forward and he jerked his head to the side. She grabbed his hair and he fought. "NO!" He struggled.

But Maggie pushed him backward, against the couch and he couldn't move in his bonds. He was helpless, on his knees, back arched, hands cuffed behind him, Maggie on top of him. Straddling his chest. The only thing he could fight with was his eyes and he did. He beseeched her so sincerely, with tears in his eyes, she had to look away lest she crumble. He had always refused to let her gag him before. She had always respected his wishes. She had always respected his tears. But this time, she wanted to see him gagged. She was going to see him gagged.

"You have to suffer."

He made a small sound and shook his head. If she gagged him, he couldn't safeword. He had to take whatever she did to him with no way out. He would be truly helpless and vulnerable to her.

"Open your mouth."

But he trusted her.

Lashes wet, he opened his mouth. Tentatively. Even as his mind screamed NO! She forced the gag in, panties first before he clamped his mouth shut, fastened it behind his head. Tight.

A sound was ripped from him that made her groin ache, and he looked at her with a strange, animal look. Betrayal? Tears rolled down his cheeks but he never took his eyes off her. She looked away before she let the tears get to her. Closed her eyes. The ache was nearly unbearable and she rubbed herself on his chest slowly, grabbing his hair for leverage. She began rubbing faster, moving her crotch lower, rubbing just above his stomach. Just above his hard cock. Teasing him, staying out of his reach, bringing herself higher and higher. Using him.

He glared up at her, breathing fiercely, nostrils flaring. He tried to thrust toward her. But she moved up, rubbing against his chest, out of his reach.

She rubbed faster on his chest, glaring into his eyes as she came.

He groaned in frustrated need, cock bobbing with every beat of his heart. After a moment, Maggie dismounted him and looked down. He was still bent backward over the couch and he begged her with his eyes to let him come. He begged her with his big, tear-filled eyes, and little whimpers from the back of his throat. It made her want to come all over again. But she held back, instead glancing at his cock.

She knelt in front of him, scrutinizing his genitals as if inspecting them. He watched her carefully, breathing hard through his nose. Let me come. He was pleading it with his eyes. Smiling, she reached out a finger and smeared the accumulated precum around on his cockhead. He groaned harshly, arching forward, trying to close his legs together. His cockhead was so sensitive when he was this aroused, as Maggie knew well. She once again gripped his hair, forcing his head up. The look in his eyes was so filled with misery that she ached with desire.

"Get your back straight." He held her eyes for a moment, then finally did so when he saw no sign of softening in her. He almost forgot to bow his head but remembered just in time to avoid a smack from her.

She ran her finger along his piss-slit this time and he convulsed from the intense sensation, head to the ground. His slit was the absolute most sensitive place on his entire body. When he was aroused, his sensitivity was magnified tenfold. He could barely stand to have it breathed on, let alone touched by a rough finger. The more aroused he got, the more his slit swelled, and the less he could stand being handled there.

She made him lift his torso again, straighten his back. When his breathing was under control, she reached out her hand to torment him again. He instinctively tried to protect himself by falling forward, but she grabbed his hair roughly.

"Stop." It was a growl. He moaned pitifully. His knees tried to close and she growled again. "Don't." His legs spread themselves wider once again.

His eyes were desperate now. He'd been so fucking horny for a week and he wanted to safeword. He couldn't take her teasing anymore tonight. Especially not to his oozing slit. Later, he wanted to tell her. I'll do anything you want, later, just let me love you now. Her scent filled his nostrils, her taste his mouth, and her naked pelvis his eyes, and he wanted her even more. He squeezed his eyes shut and tears slid down his cheeks. She seemed to soften for a moment.

"You can do it, baby," she whispered. "Can you do it for me?" She stroked his hair in the way she knew calmed him down.

This time his eyes screwed shut so tight he wasn't sure he'd be able to open them again. Her voice, so gentle, so sweet, asking him so soft. He couldn't refuse that tone, ever. Even when he knew she'd be cruel to him again as soon as he agreed. But he nodded anyway.

She smiled her hungry smile again. "Good, baby. Because you have a hell of a long night ahead of you and this is just the very beginning." Then she reached down between his legs and raked his piss-slit with deliberate slowness. He yelped and groaned, then fell forward once again, the sensation too much. He couldn't take it willingly, it was too much. He remained prostrate, bent forward, head on the ground, forming a protective shell around his penis.

Maggie sighed, slightly frustrated. She knew doing this to him made him insane. That's why she loved to do it. That, and to hear him groan so beautifully. But she couldn't get at his cock in the position he was in, not easily. She pondered a moment. The rope!

She got up and retrieved the rope from her bag of goodies and straddled him from behind. Hm. No, she needed something else for what she had in mind. Ah ha! The footrest. Pulling the footrest from the chair, she positioned it behind Sergei, in the middle of the triangle formed by his legs and the bar. Then she took the rope and fastened it into a tight knot in the chain between his cuffs. Then she hauled backward.

Surprised, Sergei arched back to relieve the sudden strain on his arms. That's when Maggie pulled them over the back of he footrest and coiled the rope under his spreader bar, tying his hands so they were almost touching it, cinching him in place. He was now bent backward over the rest and unable to move. He couldn't relax onto his haunches or bend forward at the waist. Every muscle in his body screamed. His cock and balls bulged in front of him. It was an utterly obscene, whorish pose. Humiliating.

Maggie masturbated to it, coming quickly.

Now there was no way he could protect himself. He whimpered desperately, on the verge of sobbing. He wanted out. This had gone too far. He knew she was going to play with his slit. She was going to torture him and he couldn't stop her. Red, Maggie, red, he tried to say it, the safeword. But all that came out was a low, muffled gurgle.

"I'm just starting with you, baby." It was a pant. Then, "I won't hurt you." It was a promise.

Precum dripped down his shaft. Maggie leaned down and licked it off. Sergei groaned again, unable to help it. Then her hand cupped his hanging balls and her tongue licked under his swollen head. The sound from Sergei was half-way between a sob and a moan. He wanted to thrust his hips but they were already protruding as far as they would go. He couldn't even participate in any way. He was covered in sweat. It dripped off his face, his hips, his stomach, his hair. His balls.

Gently, Maggie squeezed his scrotum and pulled his testicles down slightly. Sergei gasped, his gasps melting into groans when Maggie started slowly jacking him with her other hand. Leisurely, from base to tip, then scrubbing at the underside of his cockhead and circumcision scar. Sergei shook and moaned as the precum poured from his helpless cock. He couldn't come with her pulling on his balls. So, Maggie stroked him again in the exact same way. For five minutes this went on, with Sergei trying to buck frantically in agonized frustration. His cockhead was purple.

When he was on the verge of coming, Maggie stopped. He howled in anguish and she came, cruelly in front of him, enjoying his frustration in her release. She let him cool off, his head lolling like a rag doll's. When he had recovered somewhat Maggie found a shorter length of rope and wound it around Sergei's scrotum, separating his balls from his body. She wound the rope around the base of his cock. Then she separated his testicles from each other. Now, his imprisoned nuts bulged even more lewdly, forcing his cock into a 90 degree angle from his body. His balls would be even more sensitive, stretched in their sac as they were. He wouldn't be able to come like this. Perfect.

Now, for his piss-slit.

It was crusted with precum and dilated in what she imagined to be unbearable arousal. He would be very tender.

Not my piss-slit. Please, Maggie, nooo… He was so hard it hurt. And when she bound his genitals he was in agony. He watched her carefully, eyes wide as saucers, full of dread. Full of pitiful, frantic begging. It went well with his muffled wails.

God, that made her so hot. She smiled and held up a finger. Sergei shook his head wildly, tears again streaming from his eyes. He was vulnerable, on display, and his cock was pointing straight at Maggie's finger as it edged closer and closer to his most tender spot.

He tried to writhe out of the way but he had nowhere to go.

When she finally touched him, it was like an electric jolt and he squeaked. And when she began rubbing up and down the inflamed length with slow, torturous strokes, he screamed.

Maggie watched, in a sexual daze as Sergei tried to thrash against his binds. His body was so perfect. He was so perfect. She rubbed his slit in time with her own. When she came, she gripped his cock and he gasped for breath around his gag.

He was grateful her attentions wandered from his swollen piss-slit, even if it meant the rest of his cock had to take abuse. He breathed heavily. He wanted her to stop. He wanted her to keep going. He wanted to come. It was a need at this point and he was beyond wondering why. Why he was getting off on this when all he wanted was for her to stop. He wanted to come and he wanted her to stop playing with his slit. He was drooling precum like a faucet.

As Maggie came down, she watched Sergei from under hooded eyelids. He was sagging against the footrest, his head hanging back, soaked hair inches above the fabric, exposing his neck and Adam's apple to her. His elegant, fine neck….Unable to resist, she straddled him once again, shaking with excitement when he whimpered. Her fingers gripped his hair and pulled. His grunt of pain did unspeakable things to her, though he kept his eyes tightly shut. It was just as well; she didn't want him to try to bring her out of her frame of mind.

She supported his head weight with her fingers and leaned over to nibble on his neck. Softly at first, eliciting small moans from Sergei. Each nibble grew harder and harder, though, until they became bites and Sergei's whimpers grew louder. Maggie smiled and let her free hand wander down his chest, to his erect nipples.

When she rubbed the nub between her finger and thumb, his whimpers mixed with a low groan. She played with his nipples as her mouth worked on the tender flesh of his neck. She bit down forcefully on his collarbone and he whimpered loudly, forgetting the attention she was giving to his nipples. She bit down again, this time a little harder. He tried to wiggle away when he feared for the integrity of his skin, but Maggie would have none of that, pulling his hair especially viciously. He yelped in true surprise and pain, tears wetting his lashes and standing in his wide-open eyes.

Tafo propast! That had hurt! When he looked up at Maggie to see comforting worry in her eyes he was shocked. All he met was a cold stare. She was deep into her persona. He was scared. Truly, deeply afraid and untrusting.

Some of his doubt must have registered with Maggie though as she stared at him because she suddenly dismounted him and walked to the kitchen.

Jesus Christ, was what she was thinking. Jesus Christ. How could I have forgotten?? The safeword! Weakly, she leaned her back against the fridge. She had to gather her thoughts before facing him again. She had to find a way to apologize before she could go back in there and untie him. God, how could she do that? He had no way out. What she was doing to him…that was dangerous. Tying him up and torturing him without giving him a way to stop it if it became too much for him. And in her lust and hunger and anger, she'd completely neglected to think of his needs! She was being as selfish as he had been earlier. She done the very thing she was now punishing him for. Maggie groaned low in her throat in despair. All his looks, all his groans and whimpers and tears….they weren't for her, she realized. They were for real.

When Maggie walked back out, Sergei watched her suspiciously, warily. It almost broke Maggie's heart. She walked quickly to him, fumbling with the key to the handcuffs before she got them off of him - she desperately tried to ignore the angry red marks and indentations on his wrists. Her fingers were shaking so badly she had trouble with the gag, but she finally removed that too and threw her arms around him. He allowed himself to lean against her, too weak to do anything else, no matter how confused he was. His breath came in ragged gasps.

"I'm so sorry, Sergei!"

She was crying.

It took Sergei a moment to switch gears. "Maggie?" His voice was raw and dry.

"I'm so sorry I did this to you! I forgot about it, I didn't mean it!" she babbled.

Relief surged through Sergei when he realized what she was talking about.

He put his arms around her painfully, and gulped for air. "It's okay, Maggie. I thought - it's okay, angel, shhh. I am okay."

He held her like that for a long time as their breathing calmed down. He stroked her hair, hugging her tightly against his wet, cold, naked body. Maggie didn't care. She clutched him for all she was worth.

When her crying had died down to soft hiccups, she gently pushed away from him and he allowed it. She couldn't look him in the eye, but she wanted to explain.

"Sergei…I'm so sorry I forgot about the safeword. I was so wrapped up in my - my…"

"Your hunger."

She looked up to meet his eyes briefly, ashamed. "Yes. I was so wrapped up in my hunger that I forgot about your safety. That's…" she raised her eyes to his. "Unforgivable. And I'm so sorry."

Her eyes filled with tears again.

Sergei's heart melted and he gathered her to him. He whispered, "Shhh," into her hair and gently uttered the most romantic thing Maggie had ever heard. "I forgive you."

She searched his eyes and found only sincerity and love.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked her.

Startled, Maggie looked at him.

"For being selfish. For putting my needs ahead of yours," he clarified.

She smiled, heart filled with love and the same relief Sergei had felt moments earlier. She leaned against him and hugged his waist possessively, contentedly.

"I am sorry, Maggie," he continued. "I just wanted to see you so bad. I miss you so much. And when I come home…it seem like you didn't want to be with me." When Maggie reared back in protest, he held up a hand. "I know that is not how you really feel. But that is how I feel when all you want to do is work. I guess I get kind of…" Sergei smiled and dropped his eyes. When he looked up, there was a sparkle of humor in them. "Jealous."

Maggie let out a surprised, incredulous laugh. "Jealous? Of my work?"

He ducked his head again. "Yes."

"Oh, Sergei…"

"It was ten days, Maggie! I…guess I was kind of…hurt."

When he raised his eyes to hers, they were so vulnerable and open she felt like she could see into his soul. And the sad, wonderful part was, she could. Sad because she could tell that he had been hurt. That she was the cause of that hurt. And the remorse stabbed at her in waves. Stabbed at her because he was right. She had been so caught up in her work that she didn't treat him like someone she loved should have been treated. She'd been downright…cold. She put her job ahead of her love; that was a sure way to ruin any kind of love. She ignored his needs in favor of her own. A lot of that going around tonight, she thought sardonically.

It didn't feel right for him to ask for forgiveness, but she knew he felt badly too. Her hand found it's way to the side of his face.

"Of course I forgive you, baby."

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