Broken And Bound For Sex

Broken And Bound For Sex

Broken-And-Bound-For-Sex-Cara-Sutra-Sexy-Story-Sex-DiaryAll such a blur now, afterwards, as always, the echoes of memories remain though, of hot breaths close to my ear, the spine tingles as he tiptoe walks his long nails over my flesh, flesh bound tightly with beautifully worked bondage rope, rope so red to contrast my pale skin. The knots that hold the frame together marking me like bullet points I can feel right to my centre.

But we worked our way to that. Before came the innocence, there has to be innocence to be corrupted, violated. And violate me he did, thoroughly and repeatedly so I’m still feeling it now a whole day later. The new sleepset started it off, my flesh coated in apple green satin with cream lace edging. The little strappy vest clinging and hard nipples erect and showing through. And the fluted shorts that made a feature of my plump rear, round and ripe and ready to be enjoyed.

The epitome of innocence, laid on my front on the bed, legs up crossed and swinging to and fro, reading and clutching teddy tightly for comfort and warmth.

I hear the sharp intake of his breath when he enters the room, his murmurs of approval as his hands roam over me, feeling the tactile sensations of satin against hot flesh then smooth skin of my legs, barely noticeable tiny movements, the slight opening of my legs in case his hands should want to wander further between. Then sitting astride my bottom, feeling his heat and excitement rising, laying down atop me, strong arms and hands pinning my wrists down in front of me and legs tangled against my ankles, restraining me oh so easily. Bearing down into the backs of my knees making me yelp out. A growl suddenly close to my ear…

‘You stole those sweeties from my drawer didn’t you…’


‘I know that you did it, you naughty little girl and you’re going to be punished; punished til you’re good and sorry!’

My heart hammers in my ribcage, stomach doing flips. He drags me up my the waist, hands falling oh so comfortably against my hips as I go onto all fours for him. One hand around my hair, dragging my head backwards, upwards, a sign of possession. The other peeling down& removing those satin shorts, by now saturated and the intense arousal I am feeling becoming visually apparent, more than in a long time.

The fucking is brutal, intense.

He lays back afterwards. I’ve a sore throat from the yelping, gasping for air, the dizzying flashes and spots behind my eyes where the sensation is overwhelming, too much for vision to remain.

But it isn’t over, oh no.

‘You’re not finished yet.’

Head grabbed roughly by my hair again. Head forced down to clean him. Sucking with my already dry mouth I work to satisfy like a good girl. I’m out of breath and trying to rasp for air when I can around him. Then the killer line…

‘Did I mention I need to piss?’

My entire body jolts as reaction. I’m trying to back away but no, no. Hand clamped on the back of my head keeping me to my duty. I start crying now, some part of me knowing this is just going to make him even more excited, the sound of me sobbing, the tears falling, the gulps in the back of my throat like little caresses to the tip of his cock as he thrusts against them inviting more panicked drags of air around him as he fills my mouth. Fucking my mouth harshly, laughing cruelly, never letting up.

His cock tenses and I feel cold fear, not of the acrid burning taste but also the mess, not ready for this, it’s the wrong place! How can he do this… but that is part of him, never predictable, always ready to do the unbelievable, the shocking, things you would never even dream, pushing you to your limits and far beyond them but all with the utmost care, kindness and beautiful compassion even as he makes you scream and surrender your life and do things you’ve never done for anyone before.

The moment freezes and it is only when I let go of everything, time, reality, hope, dignity, when I actually surrender and resign myself – he unloads himself down my throat, cock jerking and twitching violently… it’s just cum, just cum! The relief is so great and there I am tear streaked face, sniffly nose, audible ragged sobs both for air and the confusion and in the middle of this kaleidoscope – so glad to be gulping down his copious amounts, drinking him and devouring.

Finally it subsides and I’m pulled up to him to have my vest removed and to lay in his arms.

‘SO what are you?’

‘naughty. And sorry too … ‘


He comforts and caresses, shushes my upset and kisses the tears off my face, so gently, you would not believe it was the same brutal lover that had fucked me physically and mentally just moments before. It’s all part of it, it’s a beautiful connection.

He feels my stresses.

‘fetch the rope, it’s bedtime’

My heart leaps, this is a treat for special occasions. I bring the long length red rope, in my teeth, of course. He playfully gags me with it for a moment, teasingly, before taking it and finding its centre to begin the shibari harness around my arms and breasts, before finally tethering me to the bed next to him for the night, breasts tight around tight, making them so hard and full, the nipples at maximum sensitivity to touch whether the sheets, curling up to him, or as he flicks and teases them whenever he wishes with nails or teeth.

I sit up as he ties me and he is behind me. He pulls the rope through the intricacies of the loops and knots slowly, the sensation of it pulling the lengths against my skin acting as total therapy, feeling blissed out, contented. The act of being bound like this makes me so relaxed I am sleepy, sleepy as a kitten, his kitten for him to tie to the bed beside him and pet or abuse as he wishes.

We lay down for sleep. But I know for certain he isn’t done with me yet… and sure enough it isn’t long before the nipple teasing from him curled up behind me turns into spreading my legs and entering me once more, to give me another serving of him flooding me.

Petted and stroked to sleep I felt utterly content – but wasn’t aware that there would be even more before morning came…



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