Created by the author.

He Grabbed My Throat and Did Everything He Dreamt Of

From the second his hand closed around my neck and he said it out loud, I knew the fantasies were over. He was going to tie me up, spread me open, and lick every single part of me until my innocent little pussy wasn’t innocent anymore.

I had told him months ago, drunk on wine and his fingers inside me on the couch. “I want it hard. Hands tied. Legs tied. You licking me everywhere first. Not just my pussy….everywhere. Like you’re claiming territory.”

He’d growled and made me come twice that night, but we never did it. Until last Thursday.

I was in our bedroom folding laundry in nothing but his old T-shirt when he came home early. He walked straight up behind me, slid one arm around my waist, and wrapped his other hand around my throat from the front. Not choking. Just… holding. His palm was warm and firm against my pulse.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said low against my ear. “No more talking about it. I’m tying you to that bed and I’m going to worship every inch of you like you begged for.”

My knees went soft. I nodded because words weren’t working.

He didn’t rush. He turned me, kissed me slow and deep like he was tasting what was already his, then walked me backward to the bed and pushed me down on my back. “Stay.”

He went to the nightstand and pulled out the soft black rope we’d bought for later. (If you’re thinking about trying this…get the soft stuff. The cheap scratchy kind ruins everything.)

First my wrists. He took my right hand, looped the rope a few times around it nice and even, then secured it to the headboard post. Not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough that I couldn’t pull free.

He checked with two fingers underneath like we had read about. Same with the left. Arms stretched above my head. Already I felt smaller and wetter.

Then my legs. He grabbed my ankles and spread them wide…wider than I usually go, until the stretch burned a little in my inner thighs. He tied each one to the bottom posts. I was completely open. Nothing to hide. My pussy was already shiny and he hadn’t even touched it yet.

He stood at the end of the bed looking down at me. “Fuck, look at you. All spread out and dripping. That tight little pussy looks so innocent like this. It’s not going to stay that way.”

I pulled on the ropes. Couldn’t close my legs. Couldn’t touch him. Could only lie there and take whatever he gave me.

He started at my feet.

Climbed onto the bed, lifted my right foot as far as the rope allowed, and dragged his tongue flat along the arch. Slow. Wet. I gasped and laughed at the same time, it tickled and turned me on in a way I didn’t expect.

He sucked each toe into his mouth, one by one, tongue swirling. Then he did the left foot the same way. By the time he licked up the inside of my calf and behind my knee, I was already whimpering.

He worked his way up both thighs, licking long stripes, biting gently, and sucking little marks into the soft skin.

He got so close to my pussy I could feel his breath, but he skipped it. Went straight to my stomach instead. Tongue dipping into my belly button, circling and then higher.

He spent forever on my tits. Licked around them in big wet circles, avoiding the nipples until I was arching and cursing. When he finally sucked one into his mouth and bit down just enough, I moaned so loud it echoed off the walls. He did the same to the other, sucking hard, then softer, then hard again until they were swollen and aching.

He licked under my arms where I was stretched and vulnerable. Licked my collarbones, my neck again, right where his hand had been earlier. Sucked a bruise there while his fingers traced my ribs.

Then he finally came back between my legs.

He used his thumbs to spread my pussy lips wide open and just looked for a second. “So pretty. So wet. All mine.”

His tongue dragged from my entrance all the way up to my clit in one long, slow lick. I jerked against the ropes. He did it again. And again. Flat tongue, tasting everything. Then he got serious.

He flicked my clit fast, then slow circles, then sucked it into his mouth and hummed. Two fingers slid inside me easy because I was soaked. He curled them up and started stroking that spot while his tongue worked my clit like he was trying to ruin me.

I came so hard I saw white. My whole body tried to curl in but the ropes held me open. My pussy clenched around his fingers, pulsing, flooding his mouth. I heard myself making these broken little sounds I’d never made before. He didn’t stop. Kept licking through it, gentler now but still there, until the aftershocks had me shaking and begging.

He kissed his way back up my body, let me taste myself on his tongue when he kissed my mouth. His hand found my throat again.

“Still mine?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Fuck, yes.”

He pushed his cock against my entrance and slid in slow. I was so sensitive I whimpered at every inch.

Once he was buried deep he started moving…long, deep strokes that made the wet sounds obscene. The bed creaked. My tied wrists pulled against the rope every time he thrust.

He picked up speed, skin slapping. His hips snapping into me hard enough that my whole body rocked. One hand stayed on my throat, thumb stroking my jaw. The other gripped my hip.

“Tell me,” he growled.

“It’s yours,” I gasped. “My pussy’s yours. Fuck…harder…”

He gave it to me. Rough now. Deep, punishing strokes that hit exactly where I needed. I could feel how wet I was, how messy, every thrust making that filthy slick sound.

My second orgasm built fast and mean. I came again with a broken cry, clenching so tight around him I thought I might break the ropes.

He followed right after, groaning my name, cock throbbing as he came deep inside me. I felt every pulse. He stayed buried there, forehead against mine, hand still loose around my throat while we both tried to breathe.

When he finally pulled out he untied me slow. Rubbed the marks on my wrists and ankles, kissed them. Pulled me into his chest. I was still twitching, still leaking his cum, still floating.

We didn’t talk for a while. Just lay there sweaty and wrecked.

I keep thinking about it. The way the ropes felt. The way his tongue felt on my feet, my thighs, my clit. The way I couldn’t move and didn’t want to. The way he said “you’re mine” like it was a fact, not a question.

If you’ve been fantasizing about the same thing…being completely helpless while someone you trust owns every inch, then tell them. Talk about it first and then let go.

Because the second he grabbed my throat and told me I was his… I stopped pretending I didn’t want to be owned.

And now I can’t stop thinking about what we’re going to do next time.

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