Mirage

"You'll let me come if I do this?" I asked uneasily as she brought out a handful of scarves.

"I promise." She got up on the bed, kneeling close to me, so I could smell the sweat on her.

I closed my eyes and swallowed. "Please don't make me wait too long. I don't think I can take much more of this."

"It won't be much longer now," she told me, soothingly, as she tied my wrists to the headboard with two of the scarves. The warmth of her, hovering over me, was making me dizzy. Then it was gone, and she turned around and secured my ankles to the footboard. When she was done, she came back and lay down next to me.

The only light in the room came faintly from the bathroom, and I could just barely see her hand reach over and lightly feather my chest. But I could feel it...in spades. My hair stood up on end as she traced a sinuous line, winding across me down to my waist and then back up again. I moaned.

"Feel good?" she asked, laughing softly.

"Yes," I managed to say, feeling my throat go dry. She continued playing her fingertips across my chest, and then she took a nipple in her fingers and pinched it, making me flinch.

"Oh..." she sighed, almost fascinated. "Do that again." She took my other nipple, holding it there, making me wonder when...and abruptly pinched it hard. I flinched once more, pulling a little at the scarves on my wrists. "Again." I could hear her voice shivering with passion. This time she got up, straddled me, and took both of my nipples in her hand.

"Which one do you want me to pinch?" she asked sweetly.

"Please, no more, I--"

With frightening swiftness her hand reached over and gripped my chin. She squeezed my face tightly and hissed at me. "Choose, dammit!"

"The...the left one," I said, trembling.

Her hand slowly released my mouth, trailing slowly down my neck, across my throat (was it just my imagination, or did it linger there?), and over to my left nipple. Slowly she took my left nipple in her hand... so slowly. I was sure, in my impatience, that her other hand was just hovering over the right one, waiting to swoop down and attack, and at that moment she twisted and pinched, hard.

"Uhh!" I cried, and pulled hard enough to make the headboard rattle. She just laughed. "Never let it be said I wasn't accommodating. But I don't want to just hurt you." She got off of me, leaving me to breathe in and out, trying to recover from the tingling pain in my chest. In that haze I didn't feel her hand trail down my body until she reached my crotch. Then the heat from her hand was palpable on my cock.

For a few seconds, that was all I felt. She wasn't moving, and I grew impatient enough to try thrusting up against her hand.

"Stop that," she said, slapping my cock just hard enought to make it sting a little. "Now," she said, a little sweeter, "do you want me to touch it?"

"Yes," I said, suitably chastised. "Please."

She held up a blindfold. I didn't say anything so she brought it closer to my face, and then held it a few inches over my eyes. I groaned and turned away.

"Please?" she asked. "For me? I promise I'll touch it and make it feel good." She reached down and caressed my crotch, running her hand all around my cock, but not touching it.

I closed my eyes and nodded. "OK," I said weakly.

"Oh, good." She sounded almost relieved. "You're going to like this, I promise." She wrapped the blindfold around my head, and tied it in back. I tried shaking it off, but that thing was staying. I sighed in resignation.

She was true to her word, though. I felt her hand wrap itself around my cock, lightly tracing it. Then firmer strokes, but slow, teasing it. A few years had made her an expert at this, knowing me better than I did, a not insubstantial feat in itself. In the imposed darkness, I felt her tongue lap gently at the head, and I sucked in my breath sharply. She giggled at that, and I felt the warm breath of her in short staccato beats.

That seemed to remind her. She let go of my cock. When I groaned, she chuckled lightly, and exhaled hotly on it. Quickly it cooled in the air. "No, please..." I whimpered. That only made her do it again.

"Just...either stop, or do something," I said. I knew it didn't make sense, but I also knew she could figure it out perfectly.

"Trying to make bargains already, eh?" she said, laughing. "You have to be patient. I spoil you as it is." And she repeated the trick, until I imagined my cock coated with a thick layer of her condensed breath. At last, she made her offer.

"One more thing," she said.

"Now what?"

She didn't say anything, but I felt her reaching for something on the nightstand. The next thing I knew, there was something small, round, and plastic pushing against my lips. I shook my head.

"No way. You know I hate that thing."

"Oh, I don't like that attitude," she said, disappointment in her tone. That killed me; of course I don't like disappointing her, and she knows that, and likes to use it as a spur. And also of course I was practically dying to come after all her teasing. "Just for a little while. I won't leave it in for long."

"It" was a small children's toy, a small soft plastic ball with a hole running through the center--ostensibly for a stick to go through, but it also allowed me to breathe. Conveniently enough, it also had two hooks for straps on either side. I'm sure the manufacturer never had this use in mind (or did they?). She had never used it before, only threatened to put it in me.

Now she was pushing it deeper between my lips. I opened my mouth wide, but not wide enough to let it in. "I--I can't..." I faltered.

"Shh, shh...it's OK. Just relax. You can do it." Her hand massaged my jaw, as if to stretch it. Slowly, she pushed the ball in, making sure the airhole was aligned with my mouth. Miraculously the plastic obstacle found its way in behind my lips. For a few terrible seconds I fought a treacherous gag reflex; it felt as if the ball were reaching down into my throat. I could hear her say, almost in the distance, "Easy, breathe easy. In. Out. That's a good boy. Not too much longer. I promise." She fastened the buckle behind my head.

Eventually I relaxed enough to lie back down (I hadn't even realized it, but my back arched up the moment the ball went in and had not come back down for nearly a minute), but I was still sweating like crazy from the exertion of not choking. It took all I had, but I forced myself to breathe evenly, and waited for her mouth to wrap around my cock.

It was moist, and warm. But it wasn't her mouth.

She started moving up and down on top of me; I thought I was drowning, it felt so good. Whatever was doing it for her, it was doing a lot; she was wetter than I could ever remember, sliding raucously around on me. Without my eyes and my mouth, I could just focus on the sensation.

"I'm going to play with myself," she said, to no one in particular, and then I could feel a hand massaging herself against my crotch. She put her other hand on my chest to support herself. Slowly, as she became more excited, that hand inched it way up slowly, up to my neck. I thought she was going to squeeze it, but she simply continued up. Past my chin. To my mouth.

I knew what she was going to do a split second before she did it. The ball kept me from feeling her finger, but suddenly I couldn't breathe. No air came through the hole, and I knew damn well what was blocking it. Only a couple of seconds passed before she let go again, letting me breathe, but then she pressed her finger down again. Over and over she played with the hole. She had stopped moving now; her entire world was her two hands, playing with herself and my lungs.

"Oh god, that's too good," she said. "Red light," she said, laughing lightly, and pressed down again on the hole. I prayed she would come before I passed out. As if reading my mind, her other hand moved faster and faster until she came with a loud, guttural scream. Thankfully she released her grip on the gag, and collapsed on top of me as I heaved breath after wonderful breath. Air had never felt so cool.

After a minute or so, I had recovered sufficiently to remember I still wanted to come. I moaned. She slid my blindfold off, and I blinked, trying to refocus.

"How are you doing?"

Of course I couldn't answer that. But I moaned as desperate as I could, wanting her to start moving again. I looked up at her, expectantly.

She smiled a bit mysteriously, then slowly, but undeniably, shook her head.

"What?!" I tried to say in dismay, but it only came out as a muffled cry.

She ran her hand over my sweaty forehead, and brushed my hair out of the way. "Let this be a lesson to you. I know you did it all, you did it all for me. And I promised. But from now on, any feeling of control that you might have--I want you to know--is only an illusion." She got up off of me, and slid the blindfold back down. "Now I'll take that gag right out, but just a moment, you look too perfect right there. I'm going to get the camera."