Beau of Les Belles Pt. 01

"I'm not a coward. I'm willing to try a lot of different things. It's just, well, being handcuffed is a little extreme," he explained. Mathilde didn't speak but her look made clear how she felt. "But, you have a point. At least, I wouldn't be completely defenseless. That's so."

"Then what could you be so frightened of? Hmm. Maybe you're scared you might like it."

"I'm not scared."

"Okay, then hold out your other wrist. Or, you can say no, and we can call it a night and I'll take you home. Let's you make your choice. You say you'll follow my lead, but then you keep trying to back out. I'm getting tired of it. Decide, one way or the other. Right now. Which is it?" She gave him a look that made it clear she wasn't kidding.

"Alright. I guess I'll try anything once," he conceded. He sighed and held out his hands so she could finish putting the cuffs on. The second loop closed with an ominous clicking sound. The two circles were tight around his wrists. .

Not knowing quite what to do with his cuffed hands, John continued to hold them out in front of him. He was surprised how potent the effect was. A statement had been made. His hands were cuffed. Math had done the cuffing. She had said from the start that she was going to be the one in charge, and suddenly power had shifted very dramatically to her. He

looked from his hands to her face. Her smug expression seemed to taunt him.

"Now, try this. Lift your hands up in the air above your head," she directed.

"How come?"

"For someone who made such a big deal of me coming first and everything, you are very, very reluctant to try anything I suggest. Are you going to do it or not?" She still sounded annoyed. If he kept annoying her, this wasn't going anywhere.

"Okay, I'll do it," he offered, raising his hands. "I've never been handcuffed before. I'm just nervous, that's all."

"I'd feel nervous in your shoes too. And other things." She put her hand in his lap and pressed his erection lightly. "Obviously, you don't only feel nervous. So, what are you nervous about? I hope you're not afraid to tell me. It's important to me with a guy for you to open up about how you feel." Her fingers traced the outline of his shaft.

This response was a lot more promising, he thought. "Okay, yes, I've never been handcuffed this way. Maybe I'm not really helpless with my hands in front, but when I put my hands up in the air like this, it makes me feel pretty vulnerable. It wouldn't take much to make me helpless, would it? With these cuffs on, a little hook would be enough to keep me from bringing my hands down. I don't know. There must be something about having these cuffs on. I can't help thinking what that something like that might be like."

"Hmm. Keep your hands up there a little longer, okay? This is starting to get kind of interesting." She smiled suggestively and curved her fingers around his shaft. The annoyance had subsided. Her flirtatiousness had returned. "I do like this idea of yours. If the cuffs were attached to a hook, I could do whatever I want with you. You couldn't do anything to stop me. It's the kind of thing that can cause a very interesting mix of feelings."

"Yes. It's complicated, especially for a guy. It feels very funny to think of you being in control that way and me being kind of helpless. Especially with what you're doing with your hand. It feels pretty nice but there's also a pretty scary side to it." He felt elated that things had taken a sexy turn again.

"Scared and sexy is a combination I like to make a guy feel," she observed, her fingers tightening on his erection. "Okay, try this. Put your hands back behind your head as far as you can."

"Like this?" he moved his hands as she suggested and looked in her eyes expectantly. This was getting very sexy indeed, the way she was fondling his cock. Was she going to kiss him? He wanted her to.

Instead, she reached behind him with one hand, grasped the links between the cuffs and pulled down hard, yanking his hands downward to the back of his neck. It caught him by surprise. But what came next was even more shocking. She used her other arm to punch him in his stomach, hard, getting her weight behind her punch. Math prided herself in hitting harder than most males. John wasn't prepared for this at all. Her fist buried itself in his gut, knocking the wind out of him. She followed up with several more hard punches that left him hurting and gasping for air and struggling to keep from throwing up. His resistance disappearing, she easily pulled his cuffed hands against the back of the couch. He was forced to lean backward, his shoulders pressed against the cushion.

While he struggled to get his breath back , she produced a pretty necklace from her pocket made of several golden strands with clips on both ends. She leaned over, her breasts pressing against his chest, reached around and fastened one of the clips to the link between his cuffs. The she sat up and, wrapping the chain back around under his chin, fastened the second clip to the link between his handcuffs. It took only a few seconds. Before he could see what was coming, he was effectively collared, with his cuffed hands attached at the back of his neck. It looked like he was wearing the kind of elegant golden choker sometimes used in high fashion outfits to accentuate the wearer's neck.

"Fuck this," he exclaimed when he got his breath back. "You vicious bitch. You punched me really hard. I wasn't ready for it. Let me go, goddamn it."

Math sat erect and turned toward John. With one hand she pushed on his chest, pinning him against the back of the sofa. With her other hand she slapped his face several times, back and forth. "Do not call me names, John," she spoke between slaps. "You're going to regret it if you do."

He couldn't do anything to protect himself. Her slaps stung his cheeks. "Stop it," he cried as she kept slapping his face. "Okay, no more names. C'mon. Please stop it. Please?"

When she stopped they sat looking at each other a few moments. He tried tugging his wrists but quit when he felt the necklace choking him, his expression a mix of hurt and frustration. She waited, giving him time to appreciate his first experience of being helpless, her expression one of haughty, amused confidence. He twisted his head back and forth and scowled, obviously unused to the feeling of something around his neck. "I don't like this necklace thing you've put on me. I don't like it at all. Take it off and we can talk this over, okay? I'll be civil."

"But it looks so pretty on you." Math used her hand to lift his chin. "You should wear jewelry more often."

"I can't do anything with my arms. You said I'd be able to defend myself if you cuffed me, but I can't. You're going back on your word. Take it off. I mean it." He tried again twisting away from her hold. Once again he cut off his own air supply, and he had to stop struggling.

"You're right about one thing. You certainly are helpless."

"You tricked me. This isn't fair," he whined. "You told me I wouldn't be helpless if I let you cuff me."

"So, looks like I've changed my mind," Math shrugged.

"You've changed your mind? That's not good enough!" exclaimed the frustrated male. "I only let you cuff me because you said I'd be able to defend myself. I didn't agree to anything else. Why do you get to change your mind?"

"Does it really matter why? I don't think so. If I were you, I'd be much more concerned what's going to happen next than these whys and wherefores you seem so fascinated with. Let me demonstrate." While he watched with disbelief, her hand lowered his zipper and invaded his underwear. Fingers clamped around his sac trapping his balls. Then she tightened her grip.

"What? Stop that!" he exclaimed. "That's too tight. Stop it. I don't like it. Let go. I mean it." He squirmed and kicked his feet in the air, then tried to close his legs. But with his hands restrained behind his head, he had no effective means to stop her. She had gotten too good a hold and merely gave his sac a quick upward tug.

"Don't!" he cried. She ignored him. He had no choice but to lift his hips, pressing his upper back flat against the couch. With his hands pinned behind him and his balls in her grip, he suddenly felt very much trapped. He didn't like the feeling.

"Hold still," she said, her voice brittle. "Quit squirming around. Stop it right now, John. You don't know what uncomfortable is yet. I could squeeze harder. A lot harder."

"No!" he shouted. "Don't. Just let go." But the hold she had on his balls made him think better of continuing to struggle. He looked at her petulantly. Her expression had turned very sultry. She was obviously very turned on by what was happening.

"Tell me this: if I did let go, would you be a good boy and get yourself in position for your punishment?"

"What? No. I'm not going to let you punish me. What gives you the right to do that?"

"You deserve to be punished."

"For what?"

"Well, lying to start with. You told me you were going to put me first but all I'm hearing is you, you, you. Or your attitude. So critical of everything I do! Besides, you're male. And, I enjoy punishing males. Haven't you caught on? So, anyway, from my point of view, sure seems like I have lots of reasons for punishing you. I'm very enthusiastic about this whole idea of punishing you, actually."

"Who do you think you are? I didn't agree to any punishment. You're taking advantage of me." He was angry but it felt ridiculous to be arguing with her when she had him so effectively under her control. They both knew he could do nothing to back up anything he might say.

"Am I? How so?"

"You tricked me. You told me there would be no cuffing my hands behind my back. You made me think it would be sexy to let you handcuff me. Then you fooled me into putting my hands behind my head so you could get this collar thing on me. And you sucker-punched me. That's dirty pool. You accuse me of being dishonest, but you're the one who's been

deceiving me, and it's obviously on purpose. What are you planning? I'm starting to think you're not a very nice person".

"Oh, really? Because we did discuss this very subject just a few minutes ago out in the car. Remember? I told you wasn't going to be nice, and in no uncertain terms. You accepted this. You even said it was fascinating. Or were you just saying that, it because you thought it was what I wanted to hear? Before you answer, do bear in mind, you're talking to someone who has your balls in her grip and who has a pretty strong grip, too." She gave him a painful little squeeze to illustrate.

"Ow! Stop it! I don't know what you're getting out of this, but I'm not interested. Just let me go, okay? You can drive me home. Or I'll hitch a ride." For her response she squeezed again. "Oh god," he wailed.

"If you're pleading for mercy, perhaps you should try, "oh goddess." As in, "oh, goddess, I'll do whatever you want, just please, no more," advised Math.

"Just let me go, damn you."

"You're awfully cute when you're upset."

"It's not going to be very cute when I get loose. You just wait."

"Hmm. The classic impotent threat. Because you aren't going to get loose. The cuffs and chain are much too strong for you to break free. My hold on you in is very effective." She giggled and gave a little squeeze. "So, be cautious. I don't appreciate being threatened, especially not by a male."

"You're the one who better be cautious." The fingers tightened on his balls. "Ow! Don't! Please? I'm asking not threatening."

"And, there you have it. Nothing like punishment for improving a guy's attitude, I always say. And you males are made for punishment! A littlle squeeze in the right place, and presto, chango, suddenly you've turned oh so nice. You do agree, don't you?" Her fingers started to tighten again.

"Don't! Yes you're right. No more threats. I get your point."

"Okay, so are you ready to assume the position for some real punishment? And not just me goosing you a little bit more. I mean the kind of punishment that's involves lots and lots of pain and goes on a very long time. The sort of punishment that will do wonders for your attitude."

"Look, Math, enough's enough. I'm not into punishment. Punishment just doesn't do anything for me. I don't like it."

"Well, obviously. It wouldn't be punishment, if you liked it! But poor you. I'm going to punish you and there's nothing you can do to stop this. I've got you by the balls, remember? Of course you do. It's not something a guy can just ignore, if someone like me has someone like you by the balls. Then again, you don't know me very well yet. "

"No, I obviously don't. What kind of person are you? Just let go of me."

"What sort of person am I? Basically, the kind of person who wouldn't be someone you'd choose to have you by your balls, if you did have a choice. You know, that sort of girl..." She grinned and tightened her grip, rolling his balls around between her fingers.

His eyes widened. He grunted with hurt and surprise. He twisted his hands this way and that but couldn't reach the clasps that affixed them to the necklace. He pressed his thighs together in a futile attempt to protect his balls. She only squeezed harder, causing him to grunt again. He jerked, wriggled and kicked. It was all in vain. He couldn't defend himself. After a few moments she relaxed her grasp and he stopped struggling.

"That sound you make when I do this," she observed, as another quick squeeze of his balls made him grunt again. "Yes, that one - is that why they call it being goosed? Because you do honk like one," she giggled, using another squeeze to make him grunt again. "But seriously, I know, what I'm doing to you is pretty painful. I'm doing this to make a point about how things stand between me and you. Do you get it?"

"Yes," he shouted, anxious not to encourage her to continue the demonstration. "You've made your point. I get your point."

"Good," she smiled. "Now you and I are going to walk over to the alcove over there on the other side of this room, and you're going to get in position for punishment. I love giving a guy his first whipping. This is your first time, isn't it? But it won't be your last!"

"You don't have any right to do this to me. I'm not going to get in position for anything. Just fuck you. Let me go. Really. I demand you let me go."

"On your feet, right now, mister!"

"No."

"Oh, yes," countered Math, tightening her fingers.

He couldn't let this happen. But with his hands fastened behind his neck he couldn't do anything about her hold on his balls. "Stop that! Cut it out!" he demanded. "This is wrong. You can't make me."

"You're going to do as I say, John. The only question is, when. And the answer is..." Her fingers tightened more.

His groin was starting to ache badly. But he couldn't let her do this. "I won't do it. Do your worst. But just you wait, when I get out of this... oh! Oh god," he wailed, forced to interrupt himself by a sharp squeeze. He started to feel nauseated.

"We have such a very long way to go before I'm doing my worst! You'll give up way before that," she predicted with a knowing smile. She rolled his balls around in her fingers, gradually increasing the pressure. The pain just kept getting worse. He groaned miserably. But with his hands stuck behind his head and his balls in her hand he just couldn't find a way to put up much struggle. "Let's see. I think this will do the trick." She applied her fingernail to one of his balls and pressed firmly. He gave a little shriek. "Yep. Just the thing," she declared, pressing even harder.

The sharp edge not only hurt. He couldn't believe what was happening. No one had ever done anything like this to him before. It felt like she might do permanent damage. He couldn't stand it. He just couldn't. It had to stop, right now. There was only one way to stop it. "Don't! I give! I'll do it. Just stop that. Ohmygod. Please, stop it." He struggled to his feet.

She pulled him by his balls in the direction of the bed in an alcove at the back of the room. He was under her control. She was going to whip him, or so she said. He didn't want to be whipped. But her grip on his balls was very firm and she'd already demonstrated her ability to make him do as she told. He wanted to disappear. If only there were a spaceship orbiting above that could beam him up out of this madness, he thought.

She made him face away from the bed, then stepped beside him and yanked forcefully backwards on his cuffs, so that he fell onto the bed on his back. A length of chain extended from an opening in the wall. She clipped the end of this chain to his handcuffs. Then she removed the necklace so he was free to bring his hands back in front. She stood up and moved to the alcove wall.

He brought his hands in front of his face and yanked at his cuffs, desperate to somehow free his hands so he could defend himself. The chain rattled. The circles were tight on his wrists. He couldn't find any give in the cuffs or the links between them. But at least he had his hands in front of him where he could indeed use them to protect his balls. He looked at her warily. He wasn't going to let her get that hold again.

Mathilde flipped a switch on the wall, then watched with interest as he experienced the result. There was a whirring noise, and the chain made a clicking noise as it began to retract. Then it tightened and began pulling on his wrists. He resisted with all his strength but to no avail. The mechanism pulling on the chain was much stronger than him. Looking shocked he watched as his wrists moved inexorably back over his head. "Turn that off!" he cried.

When his arms were fully extended his body was dragged farther onto the bed. Math couldn't suppress her glee at his panicky expression and futile wriggles as he was pulled into position. She waited until his hands were a few inches from the headboard before stopping the winch.

It was similar to what John had imagined, with his hands imprisoned over his head, except now he was lying on his back. But this was real, much too real! "What the hell?" he cried. "You can't do this to me."

But they both know she could. She sat on the bed next to him and before he could roll away from her, his balls were in her grasp once more. With her other hand she undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants.

"Oh no, not again!" he groaned. "Haven't you made your point? My balls are getting really sore. You've got me under control anyway, don't you? I can't do anything with my hands. You don't need to keep working on my balls like this. It's not necessary. If you were a guy you'd understand."

"No I'm not a guy, obviously, but don't worry, I understand very well how I'm making you feel. Yes, it hurts. It hurts because I want it to hurt. Do you want me to make it hurt worse? Trust me, I can make it hurt a lot worse! If you don't want me to do that, then you'll need to do what I say. No argument. Any hesitation is going to get you punished more, John. Yes or no, do you understand this?"

"Yes," the hapless male replied. He wasn't about to provoke her if he could avoid it.

"Good. Now, spread your legs nice and wide. Do it. Wider! Good. Now, turn your feet outward. Yes, like that. Now then, bring your knees up. No, not that way. Do it like a girl who's ready for fucking. I said, like a girl. Haven't you ever fucked a girl before, John? There, yes, more like that, but get the knees up a little farther. Good. Nice and girlsh. Now hold this position. I mean it." Another little squeeze left no question that she did mean it. "Now, give me a nice, steamy come-hither look. Pretend I'm your guy. I want to see a girl who's in position for a fucking and who's ready for me to fuck her." The fingernail pressed firmly on his ball yet again, twisting a little. She raised an eyebrow expectantly, then broke into a grin as he did his best to do as she instructed. "Hmm. Not very difficult at all to get you to do that, at least compared with some guys. You didn't put up much of a fight at all. Are you sure you don't want to put up more of a fight? Posing like this without a fight isn't exactly the manly thing to do, you know."