Crimson Chains: A Descent to Pleasure

Andrea rose ridiculously early on Saturday morning and headed for her morning run. The streets of Paris were tranquil, which gave her mind time to ruminate on the week. She found her thoughts turning towards the advent calendar. There were not any parcels or notes when she got up today. She hoped that Gabriel would soon let her feel the release of an orgasm. He had forbidden her from it for over a week, and she desperately wanted to feel the endorphins released during sex surge over her body. The thought of it was making her wet, and when she stopped to look at a cute dress in the window of a boutique, she noticed the dark grey patch on her crotch of her leggings.

Andrea galloped the kilometre and a half home, self-conscious and embarrassed about her excitement. As she reached the door to the apartment, she fumbled with her keys, jolted the door open, entered, and slammed the door behind her. She leaned against the door, shutting the world and her embarrassment behind her.

She rested her head against the door and closed her eyes, her hands wandering to touch the dampness between her legs.

Andrea slipped her hand down her pants and ran her fingers along her lips. They were swollen and wet. She moved her fingers between her lips and began to stroke her clit. Her body was shaking with need.

“Oh, God,” she groaned.

She closed her eyes and continued to stroke her clit. The feeling of her hand against her warm, wet flesh was overwhelming. She could feel the tension building, and she rubbed harder and faster.

“Mmmh!”

Andrea could hear the sounds of her wetness, and it only made her more aroused. She pushed her fingers inside and began to move them in and out.

“Mmm… oh, God…”

She moved her fingers faster and faster, feeling the pleasure build. Her breathing became more rapid, and she could feel her heart racing. She moaned as her fingers brought her closer and closer to orgasm.

“Oh, God… oh, fuck…”

Andrea felt the pleasure wash over her. It had been so long since she had played.

“I thought you couldn’t orgasm?” came a stern voice from the end of the corridor.

Andrea’s head shot up, and her eyes opened. Gabriel was leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face.

“You’re supposed to be a good girl,” he continued.

Andrea blushed.

“I… I…”

“I don’t think you are respecting the rules of our game.”

Andrea bit her lip.

“Maybe you need to be punished,” he said.

“God, yes, please,” she stammered back quickly.

“Get undressed,” he ordered.

“Yes, Sir.”

Andrea moved away from the door and began to strip, removing her shirt and leggings. She hesitated for a moment before pulling off her bra and underwear. She stood in front of him, naked and trembling.

“Put these on,” he commanded, throwing her a set of ankle and wrist restraints.

Andrea got down on one knee and looked up at him as she fastened the leather cuff to one ankle. Gabriel watched her, noticing how wet and puffy her cunt was when she swapped her knee to attach the restrain to the other foot.

Once she was manacled, he made her walk to his office. There, she noticed the Advent gifts all lined up on his desk.

“Safe word?” he asked.

“Marmaduke,” she answered.

“Good girl. Give me your wrist,” he instructed.

“Yes, Sir.”

She stretched out her hands, and as she did, her breasts pressed together coyly. Gabriel walked around behind her and ran his hands over her bare skin.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he murmured.

He moved his hands lower, tracing the curve of her ass and over her sticky lips.

“Disobedient girls get punished,” he said.

Andrea shuddered at his words. She loved being treated this way, and the anticipation was overwhelming. Gabriel stroked her pussy lips, feeling the wetness and heat.

“Mmm…”

“Arms out to the side,” he commanded.

Andrea moved her arms out to the side, her fingers spread. Gabriel stepped closer, pressing his body against hers from behind. He let his hands move around her body and cup her pert tits.

“Mmm, hot,” she moaned.

Gabriel kissed her before attaching the wrist restraints to the long strands of hemp rope.

Gabriel’s technique was rough; the texture and smell of the natural hemp rope scurried over her skin as he wound it into knots on the metal loops on the leather of her wrist cuffs. Each loop tightened with a slow, deliberate pull. When the top crossed her skin, the fibres were coarse and exciting. She was fully aware of the restraint, the tension growing with every tug. When Gabriel pulled the rope and attached each to two hooks in each corner of the room, her heart began to race—not with fear, she trusted him implicitly—but with anticipation.

He did the same with her legs, attaching them to two hooks near the skirting board. As Gabriel pulled the rope, it spread her torso apart, opening her up to his every desire.

The restraints and the ropes added an element of pressure that made her feel grounded, anchoring her in the moment as the realization settled in: something thrilling was about to unfold.

Andrea noticed a familiar scent in the air that she could not place.

“Qu’est-ce queue?” she asked.

“Tiger balm!” Gabriel whispered in her ear as he stood behind her.

“Ah, that’s nice,” she answered.

Andrea shivered in excitement. Gabriel dipped his finger in the little tub and then circled her areola with the balm. The heat from the oil and the menthol in the balm made her skin tingle with a burning delight. As the balm soaked in, Andrea felt as if her nipples burst into flame.

“Oh, God,” she groaned.

Gabriel continued to rub the balm into her boobs. His touch was electric. She felt the heat and the tingle, sending a thrill through her body.

“Mmm… yes…” she murmured.

“Let’s start,” he ordered.

Gabriel raised the crop, and the string strip bit into her skin with a thwack. Andrea cried out, but it was a cry of delight.

“One,” she groaned.

“What are you?”

“I’m a dirty little slut.”

“Louder.”

“I’m a filthy slut!”

Andrea’s body shook, and she writhed, pulling on the hemp rope and making the leather strap bite into her flesh.

“Two!”

“What are you?”

“I’m a slutty, filthy fuck toy.”

“That’s right, pet,”

“Yes, I’m a dirty fuck toy,” she moaned.

Gabriel moved the crop across her thighs and over her bum, and Andrea screamed, her body tensing, pulling on the hemp rope and making the leather strap bite into her flesh.

“Three!”

“What are you?”

“I’m a dirty, pathetic little girl.”

“You’re a dirty little slut, and you know it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dirty little slut!”

Andrea’s body convulsed, and the pleasure intensified with every strike. She felt the heat of the whip on her skin, and her breath quickened. Gabriel continued to strike her repeatedly, each blow more intense than the last. She screamed in agony, but there was also a strange sense of satisfaction in the pain.

“Four!”

“What are you?”

“I’m nothing but a toy for you!”

“You’re a dirty little slut.”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dirty little slut!”

“Five!”

“What are you?”

“I’m yours, completely and utterly yours!”

“You’re a dirty little slut, and you know it.”

Gabriel pushed the crop into her mouth, and Andrea choked back a sob. Her body arched in pleasure as he continued to thrash her with the whip, each strike sending shivers down her spine. As the climax approached, the world narrowed till she could only feel the sensation themselves. Everything else faded away as the heat intensified with the rising, rhythmic waves. It grew faster and stronger until it overwhelmed her. And then, in a breathtaking release, the tension snapped, and an explosion of pleasure radiated outward in shuddering, uncontrollable pulses.

Every nerve lit up, and her body quaked with the intensity and a moment of pure euphoria. She was consumed in sheer bliss. It felt otherworldly. Time slowed, and for those seconds, nothing existed but the overwhelming sensation of perfect, all-encompassing pleasure. The aftershocks quaked over her, leaving a lingering glow as she returned to reality. She collapsed in a heap, basking in the warmth and contentment as Gabriel slipped out of her.

He removed the bindings and toys and scooped her up in her arms, placing her on the sofa under a blanket. Gabriel snuck under the blanket with her and held her.

“Bien joué range,” he said.

“Étais-je une bonne fille pour toi?” she asked, tiredly.

“Yes, you were a good girl for me!” he replied with a kiss.

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