Magnolia's Lover

"There you go. A nice soft featherbed for my slave. You can take your torture in the lap of luxury. I might be a bitch, but I always give my boys the best, don't I?" she asks playfully.

"Yes, Miss Maggie. Always," Danny says.

Giggling maliciously, she takes Danny's left wrist in her hand and guides it back to the left corner of the bed, then clamps the empty ring of the handcuffs down on the wooden slats of the headboard. She does the same to the set of handcuffs on Danny's right wrist, binding his hands helplessly to the bed.

"Almost ready..." Miss Maggie says, methodically looking over her bound captive.

She walks down to the other end of the bed, absentmindedly trailing her fingers over Danny's erect cock as she goes. Danny's legs are still free and unbound.

Rummaging through the cabinet drawer once more, she pulls out another length of rope, just like the one binding me fast to my chair.

"Spread your legs and hold still," Miss Maggie orders him.

Danny obeys. Miss Maggie leans over his bound body with the rope in her hand and gets busy tying his legs to the bedpost, winding the rope around his ankles and pulling the knots tight. Danny strains futilely at his bonds, breathing hard.

Miss Maggie makes him wait as long as she can. Fear and anticipation are her most wicked instruments of torture.

"Do you want me to take the blindfold off?" Miss Maggie asks him sweetly.

"Y-yes please, Ma'am," Danny stammers.

"Are you sure? Getting to look at me is a privilege for men like you. I don't give it up for nothing," she says.

"Whatever you want, Ma'am. Anything!" Danny says, eager to please.

"Anything..." Miss Maggie says dreamily. "I'll hold you to that, you know."

She pats his stomach affectionately as she moves her hand to his face. She bends down to pull the blindfold free from his eyes, the full swell of her tits on display for his pleasure. As soon as she pulls off the blindfold, Danny's eyes snap right to her breasts, and his face flushes with embarrassment.

Miss Maggie notices immediately, and slaps him hard across the cheek.

"Mind your manners, boy," she hisses.

She stands up, stretches her muscles, and turns around to walk back to the cabinet. Though he's stunned, Danny fixes his eyes squarely on her butt.

Miss Maggie stops in her tracks and looks over her shoulder, her eyes flashing maliciously as she raises one eyebrow.

"See anything you like?" she asks forcefully.

"What? No ma'am, I—"

"Don't lie to me, boy. I know you like to look at me. Even though you know it's rude to stare."

"Yes ma'am. It was stupid of me to—"

"Oh, Danny..." she sighs, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "You can't even stop drooling over me when I got you tied to my bed and dead to rights. Honestly... You know I can punish you any damn way I want, but you still can't quit starin' at my behind?

With her Mississippi drawl, she pronounces that last word like two words: BEE-hind.

Miss Maggie's got the money and the time to stay in shape, and she's far too vain to let herself get fat. But every so often, I hear her joking idly about the size of her ass. I can never tell if she's proud of it or embarrassed.

"I'll get that café lookin' classy some day, if I can just get up off my big ol' behind some weekend and fix it up," she'd said to me once, rubbing her backside absentmindedly while she said it.

"This heat wave's gettin' to be a real kick in my oversized ass," she'd said to me during one particularly hot summer, while fanning herself on a couch in her living room.

"I thought you would have learned to behave by now. But maybe I'll have to teach you some manners myself," she says.

I see Danny wince, dreading the pain that he knows is coming.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I swear, I'm sorry," Danny pleads, desperate for a scrap of Miss Maggie's mercy. "I never meant to—"

"Shhh..." Miss Maggie coos, putting a finger to Danny's lips to quiet him.

She walks to the nearby chest of drawers and bends down to open the lowest drawer. Her dress hitches up, exposing the lower cleft of her plump bottom. Danny stares and stares. He knows that she's dead-set on punishing him; averting his eyes won't help him now.

After a good twenty seconds of letting Danny enjoy the view, she finds what she was looking for: an elegant-looking cat-o'-nine-tails whip with a carved wooden handle and long leather tails. As she stand up and turns around, she takes her sweet time brandishing it in Danny's face, grinning gleefully.

"I'm sorry Miss Maggie," Danny whimpers, accepting his fate. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for, honey?" Miss Maggie asks, striding towards him. "You know how much I love this part."

She brings the whip down hard on Danny's bare stomach, in a slanting arc, with an almighty SLAP of leather against bare flesh.

Danny yelps wildly and tries to cringe backwards, but the rope and handcuffs hold him fast to the bed, his limbs outstretched wide.

Miss Maggie closes her eyes and throws her head back, breathing deep. The look of contentment on her face is deeper than any I've ever seen.

"God, I love that feeling," she says breathily. "Ain't nothin' in the world like it. The first lick of the night."

Danny recovers. He opens his eyes again and breathes slowly, wincing softly. A fierce pink welt is visible on his stomach.

Miss Maggie moves closer to him, her eyes locked with his all the way.

"Don't bother countin' out the licks," she says lazily. "I'll give you as many as I feel like. I'll keep it up until I get tired. Or bored."

She starts with his legs, bringing the whip down in a series of hard snaps, flicking her wrist with each stroke. She's clearly practiced at her craft; she doesn't exert herself more than she needs to, and each stroke is like a move in some well-practiced dance.

Danny struggles involuntarily against the cuffs, straining to break his bonds and escape that constant stream of pain, though he knows that it's useless to try. After at least twenty licks, she works her way up, lashing at his stomach and chest, leaving long pink welts with every stroke.

They're like dancers in tandem: with every downward stroke of Miss Maggie's whip, Danny twitches on the bed, his limbs springing to life just the way she likes. According to the time-stamp, it's just over an hour before she finally gives him respite.

Even with the blindfold off, he keeps his eyes shut tight for every minute of his punishment, as if terrified of the sight of that whip. But as soon as he feels the blows stop, he hesitantly opens his eyes. His chest heaves, and his legs and midsection are shiny with sweat, as if he's just run a mile. His eyes are dazed with pain, his cheeks flushed with humiliation.

"One more," Miss Maggie says.

She brings the whip down hard on Danny's stomach just once more, and he yelps out loud.

"There..." she says, satisfied.

She drops the whip to the floor, moves in close, and steps over Danny's naked body to straddle his bare chest. After getting a taste of Miss Maggie's wrath, he tries to squirm away on instinct, though he knows he's got no chance.

Her dress hikes up as she wiggles her hips, getting comfy. From behind, I get a peek at the lower half of her bare butt. From the front, I figure, Danny must be able to see at least a glimpse of her exposed pubic hair. He must have figured out that she's not wearing any panties.

"That's right, honey," Miss Maggie whispers. "I'm goin' commando, just for you. And I'm real wet right now. Can you feel it? You must know how much I love that old whip of mine. You did real good, too. You screamed just the way I like."

Danny's cuffed hands twitch. I hear the chains of his handcuffs rattling as he futilely struggles against them.

Miss Maggie chuckles, and reaches down to caress his cheek.

"Don't you worry, honey. I won't leave you hangin'."

She turns back to the camera and gives me a wink, then scoots herself down Danny's body, positioning her crotch over his mouth.

"You want to get on my good side again, love?" Miss Maggie asks him, her tone equal parts honey and poison.

Danny doesn't bother to speak. He nods silently, saving his voice.

Miss Maggie relaxes, and reaches one dainty finger down to finger her pussy, spreading her labia and exposing her stiffening clit. Danny gives a gasp of pleasure before she plops herself down over his mouth, silencing him.

"Lick me," she orders. "And don't you dare stop 'til I say 'stop'."

Danny's eyes glaze over with pleasure as he digs his tongue into the folds of Miss Maggie's wet labia. His cock is at full throbbing hardness, engorged with blood and twitching wildly. Miss Maggie rocks back and forth, enjoying the rhythm of her slave's tongue against her most intimate places.

I can stand it no longer: I dig my heels into the cold, hard floor, straining to stand up until my thigh muscles ache and burn. My vulva is warmer and wetter than I've ever felt it in my life, and it leaves the seat of the chair sticky. I shift back and forth in my bonds, rubbing my pussy against my bound thighs as best I can. But it isn't enough—not by half.

It's the perfect juxtaposition: the iron hardness of Danny's twitching penis, the velvet softness of Miss Maggie's perfectly round behind; Miss Maggie's demure power, Danny's earnest suffering and humiliation. They're like two dancers on that bed, locked in each other's embrace. But when Miss Maggie reaches back to stroke Danny's cock, and I see his limbs rocked by another spasm of interrupted pleasure, I remember who's in charge.

I know Miss Maggie's reached her apex when she throws back her head and arches her back, letting out a high-pitched sigh of pleasure that somehow reminds me of a cat.

"Hold your breath," I hear her order, as she comes down from her orgasm. "Go on, hold your breath."

Danny doesn't need to be told twice; he takes a desperate gulp of air, his breath hissing in his throat.

Then Miss Maggie inches forward, props herself up by her hands, and plops her full, round backside down on Danny's face.

He bucks, twitches, and rolls side to side—but eventually he lies still, concentrating on nothing but holding his breath as Miss Maggie smothers him. She sighs, lovingly caressing Danny's erects penis as she playfully bounces up and down. I enjoy the peep show for all it's worth, my eyes riveted helplessly on that perfect bottom as it jiggles and quivers on Danny's face.

She eases back and props her ass up, letting Danny breathe freely. But still, she won't take her hand off of his cock. This time, she isn't playfully stroking it—she's working it, hard and fast. It's enough to leave a man dizzy after a full night of teasing, and it shows.

Danny's lips twitch; he stares at a single spot on the ceiling, as if in a trance.

After a moment, I realize that he's not just babbling: he's repeating two words, over and over again, as if reciting a mantra:

Fuck me... Fuck me... Fuck me...

"What's that, darlin'?" Miss Maggie asks.

"N-nothing," Danny stammers.

Miss Maggie's hand creeps to Danny's throat, and she clenches it ever so slightly.

"Don't lie to me, Danny. I'll make it a hell of a lot harder for you if you play dumb."

She squeezes his throat harder.

"Now..." she says. "What. Did. You. Say?"

A moment of silence passes.

What will Danny do? Risk Miss Maggie's wrath with his silence, or risk it by speaking?

"I-I said... 'Fuck me.' That's all."

"Are my ears playin' tricks on me, honey? I could have sworn you just tried to give me an order," Miss Maggie hisses.

"I'm sorry Ma'am..." Danny moans pathetically. "I'm so sorry..."

"After all that time under my whip, I thought you would have learned some manners by now. But maybe that's not what you need..."

Danny quivers as Miss Maggie reaches for the necktie and leans over to tie it around Danny's eyes. This time, Danny doesn't dare gaze at her breasts as she leans over.

With that, Miss Maggie lifts her legs and moves to stand up, affectionately patting Danny's rigid cock as she climbs to her feet. She adjusts her dress, pulling the lower hem back down to cover her bare backside.

"You know what I think? I think you need some time alone to think about what you've done. Maybe you ain't ready for a woman's touch yet. But don't you worry none. One of these days, I'll teach you to behave. A few hours alone with me can work wonders..."

Danny's breathing speeds up, and I see his erection falling. He rolls back and forth, struggling against his bonds with all his might, his eyes nearly brimming with tears.

"Don't leave... Don't stop..." he begs her. "Please, Ma'am... I'll do anything!"

She chuckles.

"'Anything'? Honey, what have I told you about makin' promises you can't keep? I don't think you'll be doin' much of anything tied to that bed. But you're welcome to try."

With one last smile towards the camera, she turns out the lamp and walks out of the room.

"Sleep tight, darlin'," she says mischievously.

Even after she's gone, the camera stays running, leaving me with a perfect view of Danny's naked, sweat-soaked body. He lies limply on the bed, now utterly defeated, too weak to struggle against his handcuffs. He's not going anywhere—and neither am I.

It must be at least ten minutes before I hear the door's hinges creak.

Miss Maggie strides in, grinning broadly. Her ringlets of chestnut hair are sweaty and askew, but she's as beautiful as ever.

"How was that?" she asks.

"I-incredible..." I stammer, my voice fading.

"Really? Don't think I was too cruel to the poor boy?" she asks.

I shake my head, too scared to criticize her.

"Good. I ain't too big a bitch, though. I won't keep him trussed up all night. I'll untie him in a few hours. But he ain't sleepin' in my bed tonight. None of my boys have ever gotten that far with me," Miss Maggie says.

Then she goes back to the chest of drawers and pulls out another drawer, revealing the most welcome sight that I've seen all night: a thin white cordless vibrator with a tapered end.

I want to sigh in relief, but I save my breath.

"You've been a good girl, Kara," Miss Maggie says. "So I'll give you a treat. I'll give you a little taste of what Danny's cravin' right about now."

"Thank you Miss Maggie..." I sigh. But she's already advancing towards me, the vibrator clenched firmly in her right hand. She switches it on, and it buzzes loud enough that I can hear it on the other end of the room.

She kneels down and moves the vibrator towards my pussy, and I feel myself growing wet all over again.

"Scream for me, darlin'," she orders. "Scream the way I like."

And I do.

The touch of that vibrator is like my first drink of real water after an eternity of desert mirages. My thighs burn, my wrists are chafed, and my butt's numb, but that fierce buzz of pleasure between my legs makes it all worth it. After an hour of futilely yearning for relief, my arousal is nearly painful. But then I feel the climax coming—and I know that this time, Miss Maggie will be merciful.

I want to caress my breasts, rub my nipples and run my hands through my hair. I want to lean back and kick my legs with pleasure. But since I can't, I settle for one long scream. My voice cracks with arousal, climbing into a high-pitched squeal and flattening down into a long moan...until I can do nothing but gurgle.

By then, Miss Maggie has already set down the vibrator, and she's moving to the back of the chair to untie the knots at my wrists and ankles. When I feel my wrists falling free, I just hang them motionlessly by my side, stretching out my legs and crossing them together when I feel the ropes come off of my ankles.

I almost forget to pull my panties back up when my hands are free. With my pussy covered again, I kick aside my shorts. I don't bother to button my shirt back up.

Miss Maggie hands me a glass of water, and I accept it eagerly, lapping up the water so fast that it dribbles down my chin and onto my exposed breasts.

"Th-thanks..." I stammer, when I've drained the glass.

"Any time, girl. You looked like your evening could use some excitement," Miss Maggie says.

I meant "Thanks for the water..." I think. But I don't say it aloud. I won't spoil the moment.

As I set down the glass, I find myself looking back at the flat-screen TV on the wall. I can still see Danny lying on that bed, sweaty and streaked with welts. With his eyes blindfolded, I can't tell if he's sleeping.

I look over to Miss Maggie. She's staring at the TV screen too, smiling with satisfaction, admiring her handiwork.

"Hey Kara. You mind if I ask you for a little favor?" Miss Maggie asks.

I shake my head. Miss Maggie gestures to the screen.

"I'll be sendin' Danny on his way in the morning. But I ain't havin' him walkin' around my house naked. His clothes are still down in the living room. Any chance you might be able to lay 'em out in the guest room?"

I start to nod, but then I stop. It takes a moment for her request to click in my mind. But then I realize what she's asking me.

"You mean... You want me to go in there?" I ask, dumbfounded, pointing at the screen.

Miss Maggie gives a little giggle.

"What's the problem?" she asks. "Want me to do it instead?"

I shake my head so violently, I almost give myself whiplash.

Miss Maggie grins at me.

"Alright, then. Get goin'," she says. "And Kara..."

I perk my ears up, and she leans in close.

"If you want to have some fun with him, well... He's cuffed to the bed. Ain't like he'll be able to fight you. And I got him blindfolded. He'll never know it was you. You'll never get a better chance..."

I feel a tingle of excitement along the back of my neck.

"He's yours, if you want him," Miss Maggie says. "Have at him, girl."

Shakily, I get to my feet and walk out of the bedroom, not daring to look back at Miss Maggie. I can feel my face contorting into some bizarre expression of excitement. I won't let her see me.

"And Kara?" she says, stopping me when I make it to the door.

I turn back to her, straining to keep my face straight.

"You better not untie him, you hear?" Miss Maggie says, her voice frosty. "If you do, I'll spank your cute little ass 'til it's purple. You can do anything you want to him, but don't you dare untie him."

I nod nervously, then turn away and head back through the hallway and down the stairs to the living room.

As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairwell, I can't help but look up at the ceiling for a camera. I see it at the corner of the ceiling: an orb of black glass, no bigger than an egg.

Danny's jacket, shirt, pants, shoes and underwear are dumped on the floor in an untidy pile—a tiny spot of chaos in Miss Maggie's immaculate living room. I stoop down to the ground to pick his clothes up, folding each piece of clothing as I go along. I can still feel the warmth of Danny's skin on his pants and shirt.

In my bare feet, I tiptoe back up the stairway, picking out the third door on the second floor. That's the guest room—the finest room in Miss Maggie's house—and I've never once entered it.

I try to open the door silently. I really do. But the door's hinges creak as soon as I push it open. Back in the shadows, I see something stir. It's Danny, looking up from the bed for the source of the noise.

I hear the sharp clack of metal on wood as his handcuffs rattle against the bedposts. His breathing quickens. As my eyes adjust to the light, I pick out the shape of his body in the darkness: the perfectly placed contours of his firm torso, the light mat of steel-grey hair on his chest, and his slender, well-muscled arms and legs. His penis lies limp against his thigh—but as soon as he hears my footsteps creaking on the floorboards, it gives a light twitch.