I was nervous going to his house. I know him, I've seen him a hundred times--I was so on edge that my stomach hurt.
He met me at the door and we didn't say much of anything. In the living room he undressed me. There was a little window at the top of the room that had no blinds on it; it looked out on a street with a sidewalk. The angle was oblique, the window small, and the sidewalk empty, but the possibility was still there when I stood naked in that room.
He took my own rope out of my bag and looped it behind my neck, brought it down my body with the appropriate knots, and then threaded it between my legs and yanked up hard before bringing it back up my spine and tying my entire torso into a web of rope. He tied my hands to the web behind my back, as far up as they would bend so that I could feel the strain on my joints. He blindfolded and gagged me, and threw me forward over the arm of the couch.
The rope was the beginning of the pain; my wrists and elbows were pulled, and the rope running up my crotch and ass was rough and tight. The rope wasn't the end of it. He hit me with his hands first.
He pulled the rope aside from my ass for a moment, tightening it on the rest of my body, and slid a buttplug into my ass. The instant it was in he shoved his groin against me, rubbing his cock against the base of the plug, making it move deep inside me. I was making noises that weren't words and the whole time he was saying words I don't remember. I'm not good with words and sex. I just remember that it all hurt, more than I expected it to, more than it looks like in porn that makes this kind of stuff seem light, but I fucking loved it.
He started flogging me and I don't even know what was happening, I was in the dark with pain on my back and pleasure in my ass, his body hot on mine and broad red lines being slapped into my flesh. I'm sure I came, fuck, I don't know. I really don't remember clearly.
I just remember that at the end he stood me up, took the gag out, and I thought for a second that he was done and would untie me. He didn't. He sat down on the couch with legs spread and shoved me down between his legs. Without needing to be told I started sucking his cock. Blindfolded and with no hands it's not easy but that just means you have to try harder. In that moment, the cock is all you can know.
The eeriest part was that he made no sound. When I was sucking his cock, there were no moans, no grunts, no reactions at all. He's not a quiet man normally. I suppose that making a man call out is controlling him through his cock in a sense, and I had no chance for that. I had no control. He told me to go lower and lick his balls, and I did, for as long as he wanted until he brought me up to his cock again. The plug was still in my ass, held tightly in by the ropes, and painful.
He didn't come--I think he can't relax enough when he's topping. But eventually I was simply exhausted. When I got to the point where there were tears on my face, I'd gagged more than once, and I was resting my head on his thigh whimpering between strokes, he decided I was finished. I yelped when he untied me; it was painful just coming untangled, straightening my joints out again. And when I was free I collapsed.