Captive

I am participating in Friday Flash. This picture prompted the story.

Blindfolded and perched on the mahogany swivel piano stool, Audrey opened her legs for his inspection. Stephen hummed the tune she had finished playing for him. This world renowned pianist delighted the masses with her musical talent, and they never knew she directed him, playing her.

“Spread your legs wider and sit still.” He dropped to one knee, with his body between her legs, and glanced up at her. She bit the corner of her bottom lip, her signature tell, impatience. He smiled, knowing she would get what she wanted from this capture in his time.

“I must memorize this pattern on your body in every way I can.” Her light, citrus fragrance floated in the air as he leaned in and caught her nipple between his teeth, rolling it with increasing force. She shuddered.

“Yes.” Her response echoed the anticipation building inside her, breathy and full of need.

Stephen’s hands danced up her calves and thighs. He stopped and fingered several holes in the fishnet stockings. She craved for his fingers to be in a wetter place. For an entire day, these leggings taunted her with thoughts of things to come and now Steven teased, but that’s how she liked it.

“Your body highlights the pattern in such beautiful ways. On your thigh, it’s like a vast land of honeycombs, swelled and oozing.” When he palmed her thighs, she reveled in the indentations of the nylon that caused her own skin to push through, as if it reached out for him.

“But what I really like is the vulva view. Imprisoned behind the tight, black, diamond mesh, your skin protrudes here, like an escapee.” He touched the flesh that pressed through the hosiery.  “Lovely.”

“Please, show me.” Her mouth dropped open, and she panted in staccato breaths.

“Oh, I will,” he said. She hoped to feel a hot tongue slide across the tightness. Instead, Stephen pressed the thin, cold, flat, metal scissors against her vulva and she gasped.

“What is that?”

“A tool for your prison escape, my dear.”

“I don’t know, Stephen.” He rubbed the metal up and down her sex. She fidgeted on the stool.

“But I do Audrey. Place your hands on your thighs and spread them as far as you can. Don’t let go.”

When she secured her hands to her thighs, the taunt, fishnet stockings holstered her skin, her toes, her thighs, and her sex. These mini ropes secured her in place and mesmerized him. The marks on her skin spurred him on.

Standing, he grasped the front band of the stockings and pulled up. Audrey writhed as the nylon bit more deeply in her feminine flesh. It caught on her clitoral hood.

“Audrey, this makes your clit bulge.” Maintaining the pressure on the mesh, squatting, he placed the tip of his tongue on her protruding clit, dabbing it lightly. It looked like a bubble, emerging and growing. A whimper escaped Audrey’s mouth.

“Stephen, please.”

He continued a rhythmic motion on the waistband, pulling the clit’s hood up and down. It enlarged under his tongue. Audrey’s hands trembled on her shaky thighs.

“Stephen, I don’t think I can hold off much longer.”

“Yes, you will.” He held the band in one hand, and the scissors in the other. With the stocking tightness in place, he blew on Audrey’s clit. She shivered.

With precision, Stephen placed the blunt side of the scissors against Audrey’s skin and lifted the tips up. He snared one piece of the fishnets and waited. The chilly metal combined with the strangling sensations of heat from the hose sped up Audrey’s desire and breathing. She lived for the surprise. He lived for surprising her.

The first snip eased the pressure and Audrey’s skin exploded through. Stephen created a hole in the stockings with six quick snips. Dropping the scissors, he ripped the stockings open to her red, lined vulva. His steel erection awaited a turn, while he rammed two fingers inside Audrey’s wet, warm space. He stroked upward and sucked on her clit.

Audrey released her hands and slammed her thighs around Stephen’s head. Yanking on his hair, she pushed him harder between her legs, trapped like a captive. His fingers and tongue and her meshed, marked skin became one.

Her orgasm detonated and shook her entire body. Her rocking, along with the slickness of the nylon, caused her to slide off the stool onto the carpet, taking Stephen with her. She nuzzled his face, and her musky scent in his beard ignited her again.

Stephen rolled her over to admire the fishnet patterns on her ass. He dipped his tongue into the skin spaces and licked. Audrey pushed herself onto all fours, relishing the heat of his tongue. She pushed back into him and dropped her shoulders to the floor. The material cut into her backside. She imaged the pattern, knowing it would send Stephen in a frenzy. Giving him what he wanted, gave her what she wanted. He slapped each cheek. An intake of air combined with her shiver pleased him and readied her.

“Stephen, yes.”

She had been his prisoner, but now the lines on Audrey’s skin held him. His sexual arousal lived in this moment of perfection with his handprints stacked on rope lines. Audrey’s butt wiggle begged him to move along, but he continued to admire her round globes with his eyes, lips, and hands. As Stephen caressed her skin, enjoying the rope, red gouges and imprints, he savored the moment. Designs like this were precious, and she knew it.

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