Tell Me what You Want

"Mm. That, too."

"I'd love to watch that."

"What, me lying back, playing with myself? That could be arranged... Though it's not really a spectator sport - nothing happens for twenty minutes or so that you could see..."

"I was thinking more before that. You, in the middle of the room, a party like this - a friendly, consenting audience, you called it, watching you - and you lubing up your butt plug - let's say your inflatable one - reaching round to your arse - slowly inserting it, then inflating it so it's all satisfying and secure..."

I froze in embarrassment. I'd never even caught sight of a scene that intimate. I'd be mortified. It's one thing admitting to having the odd notion of being buggered, and even that's amazingly difficult to satisfy - you wouldn't believe how many blokes really aren't into putting their cocks near a woman's arse - way fewer than like pegging, in my experience - but making it obvious that I've thought about this, long enough to own a device not available in your mainstream sex catalogue - and the whole idea of getting myself aroused and open, with people watching, as I slowly slide the plug in... Absolutely terrifying. No frelling way.

And at the same time, hugely, hugely, hot. I knew what I was going to be fantasising about, later...

John was scanning my face intently now, hiding a smile behind the serious, concerned expression. I realised this feeling of mine, both aroused and fearful, was what he'd been trying to reach.

"Then you could put your pants on, but put a thick dildo in your cunt, too. Pull your knickers up and no-one would know what a filthy slut you are - except that they've been watching you... And anyone else can see the bulb and tube of that inflatable plug hanging down, for anyone to squeeze... make it push into your arse even more..."

His voice was mesmerising. "Yes..." I replied.

"And then... What then? You love your bondage, don't you? Any restraint as long as it's comfortable, you said. So you'd then get tied down, arms and legs, maybe your chest and thighs, so there's no escape...can't move..."

I was purring. There was absolutely no point in hiding anything any more.

"And you still have your pants on - what are they like?"

"Black." I thought quickly. "Let's say large, thick, shiny satin; they don't stretch, so nothing can slide..."

"Mmm, very nice. I bet people would like to see you standing by the wall, pants pulled down to show off your arse, before you stuff yourself. But once you have... Smooth silky fabric, but the people who know you can tell, there's your toys sticking out, spoiling the smooth surface... And then I can stroke you, maybe hurt you," - he pinched a nipple, unnecessarily. "Rub you, round here, but you can't get off. What would you want?"

"Magic wand," I whimpered, again trying to rub myself against his hand.

"I'm sure you would. Maybe you'd want it even more after I took the clamps off your tits... And your labia..."

I had to look down to check there weren't any clamps on me, such is the effect of psychology. I would have just put my hand there, but he held it down again.

"You'd be so sore, wouldn't you? Swollen pussy lips and painful nipples...And yet wanting more, wouldn't you be?"

"Yes..."

"And you're all tied down, unable to move at all, aren't you?"

"Yes..."

"So I get the magic wand, check it works. I put it on one of your breasts, then the other, then hold it over your first nipple again..."

Oh, god. I'd never tried doing that. I would be trying it the moment I got home.

"And then I take the Hitachi and put it down your pants. Turn it on... "

"Oh yes..."

"And turn it up a bit..."

"Yes."

"And turn it up again. It's right over your clit - I've reached in to make sure."

"Yes."

"It's on maximum. There's no getting away from it. But I don't want you to come, yet... "

I moaned. "I won't be able to help it... I can't play like that...

"You'd better try very hard, or I'll be really pushing your limits with all these toys... And you won't be able to do anything about it. Nothing at all... "

It was those words. I was pushed over the edge, coming in our imaginary scene and in real life, his hot hand finally over my cunt, wet thumb on my clit, my cunt and arse so horribly, erotically, empty...

As if nothing had happened, he resumed speaking into my ear. "Of course, I'd then have to leave the wand in place for a while. Gaffer tape around it, if necessary. And then squeeze that bulb attached to your arse a bit more..."

Oh, ye gods...

"You wouldnt be able to escape. Beautifully bound. So amazingly vulnerable... Would you like that?"

I squeaked.

"Tell me if that's something you'd want... So desperate and overcome,"

"Yes..."

"I bet you'd end up pissing on my hand..."

I make some less-enthusiastic noise.

"Not your thing? That's fine, just letting you know it would be OK if it happened... if you couldn't control yourself - and it was all too much... having such good vibrations over your clit, so powerful, so strong, but you can't move, not at all... You'll just have to take it... How does that sound?"

I was now enjoying two of his fingers in my cunt, finally, and I'd probably have agreed to absolutely anything he said, though the images we'd created were so intense I wanted them all, for better and worse.

"Yes..."

"You'd like that? All bound and helpless, your arse full and stretched, your cunt full and stretched too, and no escape from your orgasms, can't stop until you collapse, even then the vibrations keep going... And all these people watching you, so desperate, so gorgeous, so, so, filthy..."

I gave up. I was coming, again, just from that silky voice in my ear, now. Though his hand between my legs was helping, his leg across both mine, his left hand in my hair, holding my head down firmly, keeping me in place.

It was a long time before my body ceased shuddering, and then he delicately swept a drop of sweat from my forehead, sucking it from his finger.

"Mmm. You're lots of fun. Stay there, I'll get you some water..." I couldn't have moved if the place were on fire.

He actually managed to flag down someone else to bring drinks over to us, so he didn't need to leave me. We stayed where we were for a while, him still lying on me, keeping me warm, until my breathing returned to normal. "You OK?" he queried.

I nodded, slowly but firmly.

"Hell yeah. Even if you do know half my deepest, darkest secrets..."

"Only half?" It was the expected bad joke, and we both laughed a little, given the whole situation. "You know what, though? You're definitely a bit submissive..."

I raised an eyebrow, in a way that usually had people tell me I was topping from the bottom or something.

"Oh yes, you are. You could, you realise, have just not answered my questions... The usual answer I get, just as I'm getting into it, is, "fuck off, none of your business." He smiled a genuine smile, no cocky smirk this time. "I like your answers better."

"Glad you enjoyed..."

"Oh, yeah... The most fun I've ever had with my clothes on... You cold, love? Have my T-shirt." He squirmed out of it, helped me to wriggle into it, and it stopped me feeling suddenly cold and clammy. I liked the smell of his sweat, I decided.

"So... If you consent... I don't have many toys with me, sadly, but if you lie down again, I'd love to hold you down here, and beat the crap out of you..."

I finished my drink. "I hope it'll be even better than just talking about it."

"We'll see."

Physically, it was one of the best hours of my life. He had me screaming with both pain and pleasure until I was hoarse, kept at that exquisite point of finding all the applied sensations purely erotic, for ages, and the pain enhancing my pleasure. Like salt, enhancing the sweetness of caramel.

But the brain really is the most important sex organ. Years later, it's not the beating I remember, but that long interrogation beforehand.