Patience

She stands trembling on the stool, silently praying not to lose her balance. The noose, snugged tight around her throat, tips her head slightly to the side: The bulky knot runs along her flushed cheek. Her wrists are strapped to a wide leather belt around her waist. Delicate fingers twitch in tiny, frantic, utterly useless efforts. She alternately burns and shivers as breezes caress her naked, sweat-sheened skin. She's been here a long time.

Sitting comfortably in his leather chair 6 feet away, he sips casually at his drink. He watches her, waiting for the slip that will set her swinging. His fingers idly toy with the leg he's removed from the tripod stool. He considers bringing out his riding crop, to tease and torture her into flinching, but decides against it as a delicious diamond of sweat rolls between her breasts. He settles back. His eyes never leave her. The only sounds are her raspy breathing and the occasional creak of slowly collapsing furniture.

Life in Plastic, It's  Fantastic...

The last time he'd surprised me with the plastic bag. We were rolling around on the carpet, panting and kissing each other as if the world was ending. He pulled it out from beneath the couch and whipped it over my head without warning. We'd been noosing and strangling each other for weeks, but this was far from that seductive thrill: This was pure panic! His sadistic grin, distorted and blurry though the plastic, scared me all the more. I instantly ripped it off, tearing a big hole in the bag and gulping for cool air. It had only been on me 2-3 seconds.

This time... this time he tied me down first. I was strapped spread-eagled on his bed, helpless, when he trailed the new bag across my breasts. I jumped in the restraints, alarmed. "No! No no no! We didn't discuss this!" He just smirked and yanked it over my frightened face.

He forced me through it. No escape, just sheer, unadulterated terror. I strained against my bonds, hating him, crying, terrified, swimming in blackness and fear... and then it was gone, and he was holding me, loving me, comforting me. What a blessing, to be truly understood.

Forced

He shoves my head forward, stuffing his enormous cock into my mouth. Down my throat, actually: It's long and thick. I'm choking on it, both hands gripping his thighs as if that will help. He guides me slowly over his shaft, in and out, all the way, and then slams into me, fucking my face. I can't breathe around it, only make pathetic gagging sounds that he obviously loves.

I hear the distinctive click of his knife opening, and feel the icy point at the back of my neck. I freeze, my lip stretched wide, lungs burning, throat packed full of jumping, hot flesh. The point digs in. I can't pull off, only sink forward, impaling myself on his huge hardness,  until my lips rest buried in his musky hair.

His Turn

The noose dangled right in front of his face. I couldn't help but smirk at his curious expression. I eased the rope around his neck, then kissed him and slid the knot home. There was just the slightest pressure on his skin. I kissed him again, my hands roving over the noose, the bound arms, his swiftly hardening cock. He looked so vulnerable, so excited!

I knelt down between his feet, opening my glossy, parted  lips... barely too low. His swollen member danced just out of reach. I watched him with laughing eyes, willing to wait, but it didn't take long. He bent his knees to hang for me, sliding into my beckoning mouth.

Alone

God, it's dark in here. I'm not sure why I closed the closet door, but I'm glad I did. Nobody in here now but me. Me, perched on the chair in my bare feet. Me, making a noose in the dark. Me looping the free end on the overhead bar and tying it off. Me, pulling the rope circle over my head with shaking hands. It's rough across my face and it itches tight against my neck. I can't wait any more... I step into the blackness.

Trust

She is bound, splayed naked on the bed, exposed to his every desire. She is blindfolded, luxuriating in this clever, safe danger. He's fucking her with a plastic shroud over her head, the way she likes it, hard, animalistic. His hands squeeze hers. She cries out, tossed in the ocean of oxygen-poor sex. He is driving into her with a new intensity. She doesn't know he has bagged himself, too, tied it on nice and tight, and handcuffed his wrists to the bedposts.

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