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She fell to her knees  

501Bound 45M
5 posts
2/22/2021 5:55 am
She fell to her knees


Part 3. I now knew a great deal about her sex life, remarkable for how ordinary it is. She’d been married for about 10 years and her husband only liked to have sex in the same missionary position on Sunday evenings. For desire and desperation, there was a series of sporadic lovers, of which had been mostly disappointing.

She was starting that narrative as I had moved to the en suite bathroom and returned with a hand towel. I told her to continue with her story and I would instruct her if I wanted her to stop or take a break. I observed the corner posts on the end of the bed and steered her her hair so her back is against the end of the bed. She was on her haunches, she tried to sit down but I wouldn’t allow it.

‘One person really didn’t look like his photo on the profile. But I had sex with him anyway. It was hard not to reward the effort.’ She said.

the time she reached the end of that sentence, he left arm was sustained well enough to corner bed post. She did not demure, my expression reassured her. I stroked her face and ran my hand over her soft neck and tense shoulders.

Her dress pleased me no end. She was wearing a new silk beige nightgown, from which her nipples were ever more erect. The gown clung to the ondulations of her body, as I ran my finger to the side of her waist, but as my eye cast on her, down there, I noticed something that caused distress.

I stood up, let out a sigh, hands on sides. She stopped mid-sentence as she was talking about a horrible motel experience with two brothers, as I started unbuckling my belt.

‘Take it’, I ordered. As in belt buckle in her mouth. With ease she clasped onto it with her lips, I moved so it became undone from my blue office trousers.

The silence was overwhelming. I told her to continue her story, despite my belt buckle in her mouth. She struggled on, and I was over the wardrobe, where I found hubby’s tie collection and removed a nice gold silk one with smoky faces on it.

Only moments later both hands were now bound to the bed, the minutes of squatting were tiring her, her inability to talk properly frustrating her. That’s when I returned to her, again stroked her face and eye brows.

‘You are going to tell daddy everything’. She nodded and grumbled something completely inaudible.

That droning sound resonated in my mind for the next couple of minutes, as I was mostly 10 feet away from her in the bathroom, planning my next move. There was only one option.

Her eyes dropped to the floor upon seeing me in front of her with her husband’s dry and electric razors. I lifted the gown. She had a patch of fully grown hair above and around her vagina. I had told her not to. I had told her to shave. I had told her my...expectations. And she had failed me...

I lifted the gown and found a space for it inside her mouth, alongside the belt buckle. The snap of the electric razor immediately brought her eyes to mine, I instructed that she watch me, at all times, and I briefly caught her glorious glare as the first waves of pubic hair dropped to the floor, onto another medium-sized towel I’d brought from bathroom.

Her legs quivering from tiredness, I was too upset to show lenience. Not until I had finished. Her body leaned more to one side and then another, taking turns to shift the weight of her body.

She was almost ecstatic, it was easy to tell. The electric vibrations removed the excess hair, I had also placed the wet razor inside her. It had a batter, it served as a shorter and thinner vibrator, i turned it on and just left it inside her for minutes, and I could see the head of the razor almost spinning, hanging out while the shaft of it was deep inside her.

A drop of sweat trickled down the forehead. I wiped clear. I loaded her plump breasts with shaving foam, and removed the wet razor from her, wiping the juices on both her cheeks. I dumped the razor into the mound of foam, I had already dampened her lower regions with hot water, and I proceeded to carefully remove remaining hair until the area was clean, smooth, pristine. Though it was a challenge given the razor was not particularly new, for it still had some of her husband’s beard in there from the previous time he’d used it.

The towel had amassed more hair than I could have imagined, the mess was worst still when I cleaned her of the unused foam. But at least she was now in perfect condition. Her lips were more visible, down there, more inviting, perfect pink, almost glowing.

But I now had another problem. I had already been there for an hour! And not for the first time did I notice the screen of my phone lighting up. I checked it, and looked at her. I removed my belt from her mouth, but only as the rest of it was in first, her gown, damp at the bottom what with all the drool, rested on her top legs.

I picked up the towel and mess-first covered her face with it. Hair, foam, now started making sounds as she tried to spit them out. I made a quick and somewhat flimsy knot at the back of her head. I checked her hands binds, one of them she could remove easily, and use that to remove the other. My point had already been proven.

‘Have a done something wrong?’ I think I could hear. Repeated. Though it was ever distant, as my time had clocked out and I headed for the door.

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