Limit Mindfuck

*Writer's note - in this story, the characters from Crawl are developed a bit further, during a longer BDSM scene. The first/second person is maintained along with the immediacy of present tense so readers can insert themselves into the story.

For some reason my movements are constricted when I try to roll over. In a blur of sleep to awake awareness, I feel the heaviness of my limbs as I come to. Pitch black surrounds me. I puzzle over this as ordinarily I would be able to see outlines of our bedroom, even in the dark of the night.

Lifting my head, there is the sensation of material brushing over my eyelashes. A blindfold of some sort! Then it hits me. There is rope wound around my ankles, my thighs, my wrists and upper arms. I test this out by trying to move. Nope. It is tight and I can barely move.

I am splayed on the bed in a star shape with my arms flat out to the sides and secured to the bed. My legs are as wide open as they can go, also tied firmly to the bed. I feel my nakedness and vulnerability. That does it. I start thrashing around on the bed as I realize I can't move, and worse, I can't see.

My other senses were devoid of any useful information. I could not hear in the first place, not after a childhood illness solidified my cochlears. I could taste the building anxiety and fear on my tongue, which was thick and dry in my mouth.

The scent of new leather drifts in as I inhale deeply. It must be a new blindfold, as we owned nothing of a blindfold nature in our toy chest. It was one of my limits. Not being able to see also means I can't "hear" with my eyes, hence my reluctance to add blindfolds to our kit. None of this was particularly reassuring.

Nothing comes of my futile thrashing about. Even though my head and body are free of restraint, I am powerless to move my limbs. Breathing rapidly, my chest tightens into the predictable signs of a panic attack. Fuck! Desperately I start calling out your name.

"I can't breathe! Where are you?" I cry out.

In response, the back of your hand gently strokes my face, and brushes my hair away. I gasp at the sudden touch, but relax into the soothing motion.

The knuckles I can feel are rough and scarred, and the hand strong but gentle. These are familiar sensations, and I nuzzle towards you to kiss your knuckles. I know it is you now and your reassurance floods me. Once it appears you are satisfied with my calmness, your hand withdraws.

Surprise washes over me as it occurs to me you managed all this elaborate bondage without awakening me. Giving the ropes a token struggle, I test out the allowed range of motions afforded to me. The restraints on my upper arms and thighs were a masterful move. It is these restraints in particular, which prevent me from moving my limbs more than a couple of centimeters either way.

I give up my struggle and lay there in the dark stillness, waiting for you to make your move. It comes at my upper thigh, a vise-like grip squeezing me tightly signaling your possession of me. As my skin aches with the bruising force of your fingertips, I automatically attempt to draw my leg away only to be reminded of the tight ropes around my thigh.

Again I test the rope with a frenzy of futile struggles. Your fingers tighten relentlessly, insisting I be the one to give in. The pain becomes unbearable and I fall still. Helpless moans interlace my heavy breathing.

Upon my stillness your hand loosens from my thigh. I wait in the darkness for information to reach my senses. I wonder what it is that you want. I feel a bit alarmed that negotiation did not precede this scene, however now that I know it is you, I feel better.

My safety net returns with the knowledge I need only say my safe word for it to all end. Still the element of the unknown and the lack of control presented is enough. Nervous excitement courses my skin, prickling at my neck.

Suddenly the stillness breaks again with your touch. A finger presses in between my splayed legs. I feel the delicious pressure of your finger on my moist clit. There is no further movement only this pressure awaiting my response. I lay there feeling you press me. Heat grows between my clit and your finger.

Behind my eyes I sense a glowing blood colour, almost like light shining behind flesh and membrane. My heart thumps and blood pulses at me. I want more of that slick pressure. No, I want you to rub your finger over my clit. I want gentle strokes to glide over me right there, where it feels so deliciously slick.

My body betrays me and my hips push upwards seeking more of you. I know am giving you the non-verbal consent you would have been working towards. The lack of consent in setting the scene would totally appeal to your tastes. I'd bet good money you were hard already. Laying such claim on me without consent however, meant you would be watching my responses carefully to gauge my limits.

Play laden with emotional risk like this scene was something you rarely pressed me on. You always stopped before I used my safe words. I could have, and should have made you work harder for that consent. Shit. How easy am I? A little pressure applied to my sensitive clit and my body is screaming out to you yes! Take me, I belong to you! For fucks sake.

Frowning, I lay there and wonder if you are smiling. I know you wouldn't dare smile if I could see your face. But here I lay, blind in the darkness. Are you smiling? You are, aren't you? No longer able to resist my curiosity, and despite knowing how cats pay for their curiosity, I ask.

"Are you smiling?" I say to you, knowing I wouldn't be able to hear your response with my eyes covered, but asking anyway.

I am rewarded for my impertinence with an immediate and sharp stinging on my inner thigh, right where my bruised skin aches. I giggle. That was answer enough indeed, and even if you were smiling it wouldn't be there anymore. You are always so serious when your careful guards come down and your raw dominance takes over.

I'm trying to not laugh now but I can't help it. There is a sneaking suspicion that you have recognized my giggle as an intention to play with fire... and to get burnt.

The slap I received was certainly laden with an amused tolerance. I laugh, not sure who came out on top in that particular exchange. I know I will pay for laughing and I do.

You slap my face briskly, and I shut up. It hurts and I am grateful you didn't hit me as hard as you did my thigh. I am supposed to be offended I think, but in reality I am thrilled.

My cheek tingles now and suddenly I want my body to sing with pain. I want to be rebellious, and be taken into hand. I know you mean business, and you will ensure I take this seriously by punishing me for any infractions I incur. And so thus, the rules of the scene are set.

There is movement over my body, and I feel the sinking of your knees into the mattress by either side of my head. Roughly you grab my chin, cupping it in the palm of your hand. Fingers and thumb dig into my cheeks. My head is forced to one side and I feel you examining my face.

After a moment my face jerks back the other way and your thumb rubs over my lips. I stick my tongue out and lick your thumb, tasting the salt off your skin. Deftly, I bite at your thumb with my teeth, issuing my challenge.

Before my half smile can spread all the way across my face, your thumb forces its way inside my mouth and lunges down the back of my throat. Instantly as if a button is pushed within me, I feel lust and need surge up. Moaning, I suck on your thumb and am allowed this for a few seconds before it is removed.

Fingers squeeze my face again, turning me to face upwards. This time I feel the head of your cock pressing at my lips. I like the silky and smooth feel of it. I am allowed to lick and kiss you but when it comes to trying to suck you into my mouth, you draw away and slap at my lips with your cock. I am teased like this until I start making hungry noises.

I try moving my head forward but a hand on my forehead promptly shoves me back down. I moan wantonly, not caring I am being needy and lustful. There was a time once, where I would have been far more restrained in my behavior, not wanting to embarrass myself by abandoning all sense of propriety.

It was too late for that though. The developing intimacy through our BDSM play made my embarrassment far more manageable. Most of the time anyway. There was a certain thrill to be found in basing myself to you, the hell with all proper decorum and behavior. And so I showed you my lust, knowing you were also enjoying the spectacle unfolding between your legs.

The final kiss allowed me, speaks volumes. You are as intensely aroused as I am. The silky smoothness of your cock has changed into what feels like a shiny smooth hardness that is stretched tight, a bit like the skin of an over inflated balloon.

I lick and kiss your skin, feeling your desire to be inside me. Your control is astounding though, far better than mine, and you withdraw after that kiss to move down the bed.

Defeated, I feel the loss of your withdrawal and wonder if you have taken that breath to centre yourself like I have seen you do before. Not being able to see you is maddening. I can only guess at the effects our power exchange has had on you.

With irritation, I realise this was your plan all along, to take all of what power I gave freely to you; and not allow me to take any part of it back by allowing me to see how I have controlled your emotions and physical desire.

Crankiness fills me. I want to see your face damnnit! I growl with frustration. I just know you are getting your sick perverted rocks off this torment of me. I feel your fingertips stroking down my tense belly, following my stomach muscles all the way to the top of my pubic mound and pressing in, rubbing through my hair there. There is an uneven vibration in your hand and it takes me a time to recognize the cause of it.

Heat surges over me as your hand forms a cup between my legs. To my intense annoyance I realise two things simultaneously. One, your laughter is the source of the vibrations; and two, you can also feel my wetness.

Again, my body has betrayed my feelings and you easily read and traced down my irritation to my pubic bone. This has amused you apparently and now you know I am wet and aching for you. There is no other word for it. I am aggravated. Goddess damn my traitorous body. And damn your amusement too!

I grunt angrily and kick out with my legs pushing against the unyielding resistance of the rope. I jerk my head to either side, and wriggle my body off the bed trying to get my arms and legs free.

"Let me go!!" I yell at you.

I can still feel the heat of your palm cupping me, and as I fight the ropes, I feel your finger slip inside me pushing as deep into my cunt as it can go while the rest of your hand continues to cup me.

Your other hand falls on my breasts, lightly slapping them and pinching my nipples before moving down to massage my clit lightly while you work your way around my cunt with your finger.

My angry resistance becomes reluctant moans and wriggles with the occasional irritated grunt and jerk against the ropes. You keep massaging my clit as you work more fingers into me. Once you have four fingers inside, you insert your thumb just inside my opening and start to slowly force your way inside me deeper.

I am breathing heavily now the pleasure almost too much. A deep uncontrollable groan comes out of me as you slide your whole hand inside me up to your wrist. You keep stroking me on the outside and inside until all of my muscles start to tighten up for an orgasm.

Suddenly you pull your thumb out of me and use your fingers to roughly stroke the hard flesh of my G spot. I shake my head back and forth.

"No... no!" I protest weakly.

Various disjointed thoughts move through my consciousness. I don't want you to force me to cum. I was just about to cum on my own. I don't want to lose control. I don't want to feel that embarrassment of all that liquid squirting out of me, almost like I've wet myself instead of come so forcefully it jets out. Orgasming like this is still so very new to me.

I try to close my legs, to pull away but to no avail. Your hand stops stroking at my clit to hold my belly down. I am moving too much even with all the ropes. I am fighting it, fighting you, for all I am worth.

Suddenly it happens. White intensity blinds the blackness of my blindfolded vision. Cum squirts out of me in pulses. There is no way you would have missed being hit with it. The bed is wet underneath me.

Your fingers withdraw and the bed shifts as you get up. I lay there wanting more, wanting control back, wanting and waiting.

Physically, I am drained, and emotionally I am shaky. I made a huge mess and had absolutely no control over it at all. You made me do it, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It is awkward laying there, feeling used and discarded.

I am half expecting a coarse towel thrust between my legs to mop up the mess but nothing happens. I lay there smelling of sex and telling myself I won't cave. I won't call your name like it is a question.

Wondering where you are, what you are doing, what is taking so long, I test the restraints again. Nope. No getting out of there without help. I go back to the uncomfortable waiting, in the dark.

Unexpectedly, a cool and crisp heaviness falls over my body. You have draped our doona over me. Your hand at my chin twists my face to the side, and upwards exposing my neck. I feel the sharp edge of cold steel stroking up the side of my neck and then across my cheek. Tingles rush all over my skin as a million goosebumps rise.

The blindfold is untied, and finally I look in your eyes. The bedside lamp is on, illuminating the bedroom in a soft light. Your eyes bury into mine, assessing me. My need is still evident on my face and I see this reflected in yours. But there is something else. You are up to something and the initial fear I felt upon waking comes back.

Never mind that I was getting my own thrills out of this. I may not have consented or negotiated beforehand, but all but the mechanics of the scene so far included nothing we had not done before. However... there was to be more. A sinking feeling overwhelms me. Something unexpected would push my limits.

"Hey...," you say, and a grin spreads across your face. "...you're tied up."

Uncertainty crosses my face. "Uh." I mumble, not sure how to respond.

Again, you stroke my neck with sharp metal and I realize it is a pair of scissors. The grin is still on your face. Finally you spring it on me.

"Jared is outside. I'm gonna invite him in and there is nothing you can do about it." A heavy pause, and then bluntly the impact of your subsequent words plough through me.

"Nothing at all."

Surely you are just fucking with me here. I am incredulous and my emotions cross my face. The grin on your face disappears into a smug seriousness, powerful enough to create doubt within my mind. Maybe I was wrong about your limits about other males present. Alpha males just don't allow other men around. It is a thing, a rule of nature. There was just no way! I scoff, challenging you.

"Yeah right. Go on then!" I call your bluff with a smug smirk of my own.

The door opens, drawing my eyes to the doorway. I realize the enormity of the situation before me as Jared strolls in.

Immediately I blush. I am naked under the doona! The room smells like my sex and here I am laying in a big wet puddle of cum. I glance back and forth at both of you in blatant shock. You win this one. My limits loom up in front of me like my world is going to come crashing down if I don't call it. The safe word to end it all.

Jared grins at me, and unable to contain yourself you grin too. There is a wary look in your eyes though, but I cannot interpret it. The scissors are passed to Jared so you can blindfold me. As you reach out for me, I see you whisper.

"Remember the safe word. Trust me."

I struggle, moving my head away as best as I can but you won't have a bar of it. Hands grab my head firmly, and the blindfold slides over my eyes. It is black again, and I can't feel anything happening. Maybe you both left the room, leaving me to suffer alone in the unknown.

Alas, this wasn't to be. With alarm, I feel the doona start to slide down my body, inch by inch.

"Please don't!" I beg, frantic with worry, shock, horror. Begging makes no difference to the slow progress of the doona.

"No!" I gasp. Did I really misjudge you so? You were so strongly dominant, there was no way you were not an Alpha male. You'd beat the pulp out of anyone who dared look upon me like this. I thought this particular limit of mine about not allowing my subjugation to be viewed by others but you; would be guaranteed safe because of your dominance.

The doona continues on. It slides down to expose my nipples. They were already hard. Perhaps I should yell my safe word, but almost immediately, I dismiss the notion. I am stubborn. I won't give in. I hate using my words. I do not like admitting I have been licked and as such, my words only get used for emergencies, where a meltdown is imminent.

I know this reluctance is problematic. Past experience has taught me I should not be so reluctant to use my safe words that I end up pushed too far, in serious shit. Maybe you were driving home this point here?

The rules of the game before me were unclear. Annoyed with myself for being far too stubborn and rebellious to call it, I throw caution to wind. To hell with the consequences.

The sliding of the doona exposes my bare belly. Stress swells up in my chest causing my breathing to quicken. I was beginning to panic. Maybe this was a bad idea. No wait. It was definitely a bad idea.

My vulnerability, twisted kink, and intimacy belonged to you only. I could not allow the power exchange to continue. If I was right about your Alpha status, this could exceed both our limits to damage us both. Muscles all over my body tighten and my lips move as I prepare to say the word.

The doona stops moving in response to my tension, and I have an answer I did not previously. It is you who controls the doona. Only you are attuned to me like this. You would know what I was doing as, if not before, I did it.

Sure enough, I feel my nipples being tweaked gently. I know your fingers, or at least I think I do. You were controlling the doona, it has to be you at my nipples surely. Stabs of pain jolt me as you pinch and pull them. Yep it is you alright. I relax, forgetting I was going to end the scene.

Fingertips trail down my sides from my nipples and over the doona. Slowly the material begins sliding away again. Goosebumps traverse my skin as my pubic hair shifts with the movement of the doona.

Coldness slides over my thighs as the warm wetness there meets air. The edge of the doona reaches my feet and is gone. Exposed and laying there untouched, I feel the hum of my power. I know it affects you as well. I can feel your intensity. It is a weird thing to just know something by metaphysical feel alone. It was like the air was charged with your pleasure. I was yours and your claim was laid wholly and completely.

Just as I feel confident you are indeed fucking with me and that Jared left the room before anything happened; I felt the metal edge of the scissors pressing on the inside of my thigh. Oh fuck!!! Frantically my confidence shatters and flies off into the dark corners of my psyche. Shit, shit, shit! The scissors!!! I saw you hand them over to him!! Gone was the careful analysis of the situation before me.

Gasps and hitches choke at my chest as I struggle. Oh no. I am trapped. I forget myself, I even forget about the existence of my safe word.