Author's Note: A short story I wrote a while back. This is one of my first pieces, and could do with a little more polish, but I hope you enjoy even without it!


The day has finally arrived - the day I plan to spend securely hogtied, unable to touch myself in any of the ways that I want. I had decided on a classic hogtie, locking padded leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles and pinning everything together behind my back using a single handcuff ratchet. Aesthetically, I would prefer the handcuffs to tighten directly on my skin, with the chain of my leg restraints looped around the cuffs, but I find that fighting cold steel leaves painful marks that raise too many difficult questions.

Everything is set up. A key in ice, suspended above the start line. And down the far end of the apartment, along clean oak floors, a pillow for my delayed release. Once hogtied, I will have to crawl the length of the house, teasing myself with every movement as my dick rubs against the floor. The helplessness is enough to leave me panting with arousal. And that is where the pillow comes into the picture. By that point, my mind will turn any soft object into the alluring female form; today it might be my teenage crush; my girlfriend; or perhaps the cute Greek girl from work in her beach album.

The thought of me submitting to her teasing touch drives me wild with the thought of struggling towards her and rutting like a desperate animal. 

I slip the spider gag between my teeth, securing it tightly behind my head. The dog collar is the final touch, the method by which my crush keeps effortless control. Finally, I lie on the floor, arch my back to touch my feet, and lock the handcuff shut through the various rings on my cuffs. 

Ccccccclick. 

The sound alone is enough to send a jerk through my crotch. My first bound orgasm was like this, stretched out between the feet of my bed, trying at first to reach my crotch like I am accustomed to doing, but with the handcuffs on my wrists and ankles preventing any shortcuts. I soon gave up and humped the floor until I exploded in a sticky mess, lying there basking in the warmth until I could bring myself to reach for the key and unlock my hands. 

Today begins much the same way, but with no way of releasing myself until the key falls. I pull against my tormentor, feeling the leather cuffs stretch slightly as I try to find a comfortable spot, convincing myself of my vulnerability, the pure sexuality of my bound position. A gentle breeze from a skylight caresses my shoulders, and I begin the long crawl towards my goal, twisting my shoulders and spreading my legs to make tantalisingly slow progress. 

Halfway there, overcome with frustration, I begin thrusting against the floor, the pain in my manhood overriding any progress I make towards climax. Tugging against the restraints doesn't help my position, and I find myself thrashing against their unyielding grip. I roll onto my back, arching with all my strength, fingers desperately searching to find some weakness in the leather holding me secure. I've had enough; I want it now!

But I can't fight forever. Chest heaving, panting through my forcibly splayed mouth, I roll back onto my stomach, once again pleasurably pressed into the hard floor. A wave of submission rolls over me, and I imagine voluptuous Sophie laughing at me from the couch, soft curves and blue eyes smiling at me as her hand slips between her legs. Her captive male debasing himself for her amusement will be more than enough to achieve satisfaction for her, even as she denies mine. 

I know who the pillow is today.

Long, toned legs stretch before her as she props herself up, waiting for me to wriggle the rest of the way. She caresses her own generous breasts as she watches, plump lips twisted in amusement. God, those legs! And those eyes; I've been lost in those languid, deep blue pools a dozen times over the last year. 

The pillow is soft beneath me. I begin to thrust, constantly reminded of my submission by the insistent pull of the cuffs as I reach forward to embrace the naked girl waiting for my touch. Eyes closed, spread legged, I can feel the heat building in my groin as the shifting pillow only adds to the fire in my imagination, Sophie responding in her own way to my rhythm. I imagine her chest flattening beneath my own, fingers reaching to violate my mouth, taking advantage of my gag to fuck me the way I'm fucking her. 

I crest the hill, pulling hard against my fiendish trap as I empty into the pillow. 

I'm inching my way back towards the ice when a key turns in the lock. Impossible. Kelly said she would be out of town for the whole week! There's nothing I can do but bury my head into the floor, and hope that it swallows me whole. 

A shriek fills my ears, followed by what sounds like bags hitting the floor. I hear footsteps crossing the landing. Kelly's cute sandalled feet fill my vision. I turn away, face burning in humiliation. She can see it all; my tied hands and feet, the pillow, the trail of cum drying on my thigh. I go to explain, to make it all go away, but the god-damn intruder in my mouth turns it into a groan, keeping my filthy mouth quiet. 

"This is pretty fucked up, you know that?"

I groan again. 

Soft hands grip me by the shoulder, flipping me onto my back. I don't resist. I deserve this. I deserve all of it. The shame, the stories she'll spread, my life open for ridicule. I hope I die. In response to the twisted emotions, my penis begins to harden. 

Kelly is sitting next to me, her legs folded under her, wearing a sea blue summer dress, shoulders bare in the sunlight streaming in the window. With one hand, she slips the sandals from her feet, while stroking my chest with the other. I wish I knew what she was looking at, but I can't bring myself to look up from the floor.  

"If we're going to do this, we'll do it properly."

My eyes snap to her face. She is trying to fight back a grin spreading its way across her dimpled cheeks, the warmth having already reached her beautiful blue eyes, shining as she looks down on me. I should be figuring out how to react, how to reach her, but all I can think of is how her predatory grin matches that of the imaginary girl I was fucking earlier. 

"This is going to be about my fantasies. You're submissive, which means I get to call the shots. So, I'm going to get some real restraints from my apartment. Then we'll see how you like it."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. She leans across me, pressing her bare skin to mine as she absent-mindedly cups my balls. 

"These are mine, for instance. I bet you've fantasised about this a hundred times."

Her legs are setting my nerve endings on fire. The groan that comes is more of a questioning moan; I don't know what I would have said. As her velvety touch fills my senses, she leans down to kiss my cheek. Her sandy ginger hair fills my vision. 

"You've even gagged yourself for me..."

Oh god. 

"I'll be right back."

Against my protests, she lifts herself off me, padding lightly across the wood as I flip myself back onto my stomach. She's retrieved a length of chain, which she secures to my neck using a lock that I left on the kitchen counter. The other end finds its way around one of the pillars in the kitchen. My range of movement is now limited even further. 

She stands near the door, hands on hips, bouncing excitedly on her tip toes. I look pleadingly in her direction, hungrily drinking in the sight of the smooth legs that were so recently teasing me. My treacherous dick twitches at the sight. She smiles. 

"I know you want to touch. But you've just had your fun... I think we'll start with a gentle pegging, to get you used to your new position. Then... either way, I'll be taking what's mine. Don't go anywhere!"

She slips her way out the door. I'm left naked, in a room with a key and a pillow, neither of which I can reach. And the grip of the padded cuffs to keep me company as I wait.