Ariel Anderssen "Bound to be Fucked"

"Bound to be Fucked" read by Ariel Anderssen The heavy weight and sharp sound of metal-on-metal excites me. Ever since Eric bought my new chrome spreader bar, I've snuck looks at it and secretly held it, wondering when and how he will first use it on me. Will I be locked in it on my back with my ankles above my head? Standing and bent over at the waist? Maybe face down in the pillows with my arms secured to the headboard. I try to imagine all the ways in which I might be taken. I want to know. I stand now before him, trembling, waiting for him to decide my fate before he locks my ankles into the stainless steel stocks and puts me into some off-balance position for his taking. I used to think that the point of a spreader bar was to keep my legs open, giving him easy access to me in a view that made his cock hard. Placing me in a position that’s a combination of arousing for him and submissive for me. I am open and ready for that. Ready for him to bind me, to stare at me, to fuck me. I am ready to be controlled. I'm ready to be helpless. Eric takes the bar from my hands and firmly pushes me face down onto a padded bench at the foot of the bed. He steps over me and spreads my legs wide with his knees before locking one of my tiny ankles into each stock. One by one, he guides each of my wrists downward, placing my arms at my sides, until they too find themselves locked in securely next to each ankle. Every muscle in my legs and back strain, my face is buried in the bench and my ass is high in the air. I could never hold this position for long on my own, but I have been balanced like a tripod, denying me the ability to tip over no matter how tired my muscles may become. Eric is ready to fuck me now. I wobble on the bench as my knees settle lower, relying on him to hold me still – hold me stable – while he fucks me. There’s something about being slightly off balance, the dependence on him to protect me, that exhilarates me. I like feeling weak and small and vulnerable. Quivering, wobbling and knowing that the only reason I’m upright still is that he’s got a fistful of my hair. Eric walks to the other end of the bench. He pulls my head up and inserts the full, satisfying length of his cock into my throat, right down to the base so I choke. He holds me there for just as long as I can take with my wrists and ankles still restrained so I can’t move away. He holds me on him until my eyes water and he allows me to pull my head back – spluttering, drooling and covering the bench with wet saliva. His fist full of hair is all that keeps me from falling over off the side of the bench. He enjoys me more slowly now. Holding me in just the right position, so I can wet just the tip of his cock. Licking around the head, my bunched hair clenched in his hand and the backs of my knees starting to sweat. He pushes me back down and continues throat fucking me with care and precision. The back of my throat contracts around his shaft as he calls me his good girl. Eric pulls out of me and returns to the other end of the bench where he intends to fuck me. The trembling sets in again. I want to grasp my ankles, or lift my hands to hold onto something: the bed, the wall – anything. His cock slides into my sopping wet little box and each stroke makes me tremble even harder, feeling like I’m teetering on the brink of collapse. My muscles tense, my cunt tightens, my knees ache. He likes my weakness, I think. He can feel my delicate muscles struggle as he grips me, and he can feel me pushing back to take him further inside me – partly for satisfaction and partly for safety. The harder I push back the easier it is to stay stable. I think he likes the clinking sound of the metal-onmetal too, it means my hands are still cuffed to the spreader bar. The rapid tinkling as my ankles wobble and my legs start to really shake means I’m close enough to cumming that he can speed up to bring himself there too. Fuck me harder and faster with swift angry strokes I think to myself. I want to cum now because I know you're about to. The twitching climax as I cum on his cock makes him harder yet. Just as I feel him draw close to ejaculating, I feel his wet cock slip from inside me, followed by the sensation of my ass cheeks being parted with his palms. He guides the engorged head of his beautiful cock to my clenched little rosebud and presses it firmly inside, giving me just a tiny taste of what is still to come. I rattle in my restraints helplessly. I meekly tell him no, but he knows that I don't mean it. Eric grips my hips to keep me upright and empties himself inside me. Now lubricated with his semen, my ass willingly receives the full length of his manhood as he slowly slides deeper and penetrates me to maximum depth. Fuck this is good. The spreader bar rattles on as I take him. I love it this way. It's not my fault. I can't help that he has locked me up with ill intent. I would resist him taking me this way if I could, but I can't move. I know this excites him. He keeps his hands on me, maintaining my balance. With his need to release himself now satisfied, Eric is able to really get down to punishing me. He's fucked me right on through his orgasm and has stayed rock hard. Now his hard, long strokes pound me. My head is racing. Is this what you want baby? Does it excite you to take my petite little body like this? You know I would do anything for you. You go ahead and take what you want. You want to hurt my little ass? You want to lock me up like this so I can't say no? You go ahead, it's yours. I wish I could touch myself and rub my stone hard little clit. I look back at him beneath myself and see his tight balls slapping against me. I can't see his cock. It is higher, out of view. I feel my orgasm coming. I hope he doesn't slow down. I know how to keep him going. I plead with him. Please baby, your cock is too big. I can't take all of you. He ignores me just like I want. He tells me that I'll shut up and take it. Perfect. I can feel him get harder at the thought of controlling me. He knows I'm lying. He knows I want it.

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