Made For Sex. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
evening. “Brilliant,” she said.
“Brilliant is right,” Tim said. He posed her with her almost-naked back to him, looking seductively over her shoulder. He snapped several pictures. “Now we come to album photos,” he said, opening Ronnie’s other closet. “Which of these says you?”
“I don’t know. Which do you think I should wear?”
“Not my decision. For the album you need pictures of fantasies that you would enjoy acting out with a friend. That’s a very personal decision.” He reached into the closet and took out the pink little-girl dress. “This fantasy is about the older man who likes to make love to virginal little girls. You wear white socks and Mary-Janes, white cotton undershirts and underpants.”
Carla smiled as she put it on. Tim photographed her sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands folded in her lap and knees locked together, looking a bit scared.
“This,” he said, holding a short wedding dress and a veil, “is a similar fantasy, deflowering a wedding-night virgin.” She dressed and Tim snapped that outfit as well.
They continued for over an hour, with Carla portraying a cheerleader, an aerobics instructor, a bikini-clad nymphet, and a harem girl. When Tim suggested the stern teacher costume, Carla demurred. “I don’t think I’m the dominant type.”
“Ronnie is,” Tim said, “and I have some very sexy shots of her with a whip in her hand and a man wearing nipple clamps licking her pussy.”
“I never saw those.”
“She has some particular pictures for special friends.”
“Should I have a special album? I can’t see myself with a whip.”
“I know that. But I have a different idea. Come with me into the other room,” Tim suggested.
“What other room?”
“Ronnie’s playground. She told me she hasn’t shown it to you, so let me.”
“Should I wear anything special?” Carla asked removing her costume, a nurse’s uniform with a starched cap.
“Just your beautiful skin.”
Tim opened the door to the other bedroom and let Carla precede him. As she entered the room she gasped. Almost cave-like, it was darkened with wood-paneled walls and heavy velvet drapes. As Carla looked around she saw that the room resembled a dungeon with eyelets, chains, and bondage equipment proudly displayed on every wall. There were three differently shaped wooden benches with hooks and straps attached and two cabinets filled with items Carla didn’t recognize. A huge brass bed dominated one end of the room. As shocked as she was, Carla also realized that she could hardly breathe.
Tim walked in behind her and wrapped his long fingers around one wrist, holding her tightly. “Exciting?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Ronnie thought as much. I took several rolls of film in here with Ronnie dressed all in leather brandishing whips and paddles. But I don’t think that’s you, is it?”
Carla shook her head. She was picturing herself held down or chained, restrained and helpless with a man standing over her enjoying her vulnerability. Tim took her other wrist and held her arms against her sides. He put his mouth close to her ear. “The word is ‘popcorn,’” he breathed, rubbing his fully clothed body against her back. “Say the word and I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. And let me give you some advice. Never play in here without a safe word. And never play with anyone you don’t trust to honor it. Understand?”
“Ronnie and I discussed that. I understand.”
“Say ‘popcorn.’”
“Popcorn.”
Tim released her hands and moved away. “Now, stand here and look around the room while I get my camera. While I’m gone, picture yourself strapped into each piece of equipment, unable to escape. From now on, don’t speak unless I ask you a direct question. And don’t move!”
The last was an order, one that Carla had no intention of disobeying. She looked around and studied each device. She imagined herself restrained in a few but she had no idea what many were for or how they worked. She didn’t care. Her palms were sweating and she was struggling to get air into her trembling body.
“Good girl,” said Tim, reentering the large room. “You’re so excited, you’re ready to burst. That’s very good. Come here.” As Carla walked across the thick dark gray carpet her feet sank into its soft lushness. “Give me your arm.” Carla held out her arm and Tim fastened on a tight leather wristband. He looped a ring attached to the band over a hook on the wall and took a picture of her hand and arm.
“You know you can unhook yourself any time you want.” Tim’s voice caused a heat wave to wash over her. “But you want to stay there. You want me to restrain you. That’s excellent.” He fastened an identical strap around her other wrist and one around each ankle. The rings attached to additional hooks on the wall so her arms were held out from her shoulders and her legs were spread about two feet apart.
As the camera snapped, Carla imagined how she looked, fastened to the wall, controlled and helpless. God she was hot. If she could just touch herself…. But she wouldn’t move, couldn’t move.
Tim walked over and kissed her full mouth. Then he slid his finger across her hip until it was against her clit. “You want to come? Just like that?” He stopped. “No. Not yet. I want to play a while.” He put the camera down. “After Ronnie and I had been together a few times, we discovered that we both have a love of dominance. I want to be in control. I want to be able to tease. I want to do anything and everything without any protest. Do you want to play with me?”
Carla nodded. At that moment she wanted to be dominated by him more than she’d ever wanted anything else.
“Do you remember the safe word?” he asked.
“Popcorn,” Carla said.
“That’s good. Now, a few questions. And I want honest answers. What if I hurt you, just a bit?” He pinched her nipple and twisted it hard.
It was so sudden that Carla cried out.
“Good or bad?”
Carla paused, then admitted, “Good.”
Tim grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her head back. He kissed her mouth, grinding his face against hers. She responded, pressing against him as much as her bound body would allow. “A true playmate,” he said, unhooking her limbs from the wall. He pulled her over to a wooden bench, adjusted the length of its legs, and laid a leather spread over it. “This has been a fantasy of mine for a long time, but Ronnie is too dominant herself to really enjoy this. Lie down on your back.”
Carla did, feeling and smelling the leather. “Inhale,” Tim said. “Smell your own aroma.” Carla breathed deeply and knew the scent of her arousal. She was so hot that she doubted it could get any better, but each time Tim spoke, it did.
“Here’s something else for you to enjoy.” He slipped a leather blindfold over her eyes.
The darkness was total. Being unable to see made her more aware of her other senses. She heard the rustle of Tim’s clothes as he moved around the room. She smelled leather and sweat and sex. She rubbed her hands over the leather, appreciating its rich texture.
“Don’t move,” Tim said. Carla could hear the camera and imagined this scene as it would appear to those thumbing through her own ‘special’ pictures.
“Now slide up until your head hangs off the end. There’s a pillow that will support your neck and let your head hang down gently.” She slid along the leather until her neck rested on the pillow and heard snaps as Tim fastened her arms and legs to the bench. “These aren’t hooks, they’re padlocks,” he said. “I want you to struggle to get free.”
Carla experienced