Bound as he was in this oh so antiquated, yet oh so effective bondage device all he could do was stare up at the ceiling, his hips thrusting and squirming as much as the devious device would allow.
The woman perched calmly on a stool before him had been working him calmly, slowly and patiently for nearly an hour. With her sensual arsenal at her fingertips, including an assortment of feathers, delicate brushes, and silk scarves, she had been teasing and tantalizing his steely hard erection and quivering balls with nothing but the lightest and most delicate of sensations.
To say that the gentle, inescapable pleasures were slowly but surely wearing on him and driving him to a state of utter desperation for release would be quite the understatement. She smiled softly with satisfaction at the way his moans… his pleas… his begging… became more desperate and shameless with each passing minute.
With his cock now helplessly engorged… quivering…. dripping… he was so frustrated he felt as if he would break down if he didn’t cum soon, or at least mercifully be allowed the satisfaction of feeling her hand wrap around him and give him the full, firm, rhythmic strokes he ached to feel.
“My god please?? I cant take this anymore….. please, let me cum?? At least stroke me?? Something?? Anything?? My god I’m begging you…. please?? You’re making me crazy!….”
She fought back a chuckle, paused, and in a sweet, concerned voice purred, “My, my, my…. such a fuss you’re making. I don’t understand…. whatever could possibly have you so worked up like this? Sweetie, I can’t possibly be hurting you, can I?….”
She paused ever so briefly, then as she traced one feather slowly along the length of his swollen cock and teased the tip of another along his cum-filled balls, she innocently cooed, “…. I mean, after all…… I’m barely even touching you at all, baby.”
