Cultivating Trust

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Turning the Tides

Chelsea

The other night played in my head over and over as if on repeat. I had been so turned on by Brandt handcuffing me to the bed and blindfolding me I got confused. I was still coming to terms with it being a ‘normal’ thing to do. Did normal people tie each other to a bed? I doubted it, but as long as we kept it to ourselves, I would like to do it again.

Now the hard part. I needed to return the favor.

Brandt wanted bondage. He told me it was a way of spicing things up, and he wanted to try it with me. It worked, making it one of the best orgasms I’d had, and I thought about how I would do my part. I mean, if he tied me up, he wanted to be tied up too, right?

Knowing I was not good with this stuff I had been racking my brain all day thinking of how I could use bondage to turn him on? Not wanting to use the handcuffs — it left marks on my wrist and sort of hurt — I could use something softer like scarves. Would this be enough for him? What if he liked pain? Could I do that to him?

The whole premise behind the blindfold and bondage was to limit senses. It made me think. I could work with that. What if I used a blindfold and tied his hands down and then heightened his senses like he did for me? An idea formed in my mind, and I only hoped I didn’t come out looking stupid. I sighed and got the things I needed before Brandt came home from the studio.

When his car drove into the garage, he entered the house and yelled for me. I returned his greeting from the bedroom nervously awaiting him. It didn’t take him long to find me and when he poked his head in the door and saw I had dressed in the baby blue nightie for him, he smiled. The sheer two-piece outfit made me feel better than just being naked and waiting for him.

The dining room chair I dragged up earlier had a certain style I need for this to work. My only hope would be if I could pull this off. Keeping the other ‘supplies’ in the bathroom prevented Brandt from knowing my plan ahead of time.

He looked at me with a smirk on his face. “Have you been waiting for me all day long dressed in this?”

I laughed, “No, not all day.”

“Shh, don’t ruin my fantasy.”

He came over to where I stood, hiding the scarf behind my back. “Your fantasy?”

“You cleaning the house in that outfit.”

“Not the best for scrubbing floors but whatever trips your trigger.”

I brought out the scarf, and his smirk turned to open lust. “Are you saying you want to ‘play?’”

He had left it up to me to tell him when I wanted to ‘play’ and promised not to push. He knew me well enough by now to know I needed time to think about anything new, especially in the bedroom. “I thought I should return the favor.” He gave me a look of guarded interest.

“And how is that?” I took a deep breath and let it out. This was difficult for me. Brandt had turned me on with his ability to ‘play,’ and I felt, well... foolish.

“I want to tie you to the chair.” It sounded a little dumb coming out, not at all the sexy vixen voice I practiced in my head.

He had a stunned look on his face, “You are going to tie me to the chair?” Even he knew it was a little out of character for me and I hoped he would give me a chance and not laugh.

Another sigh escaped me, “Yes. I have been thinking about it all day. We need to get you out of your clothes first.”

“Chelsea, I...”

He already thought I couldn’t do it. I would have agreed, but I needed to hold up my side of this. “Brandt, you wouldn’t deny me this after what you did?” I pleaded with him. Give me a chance. God, I already hoped this went fast so I didn’t pass out from embarrassment.

Giving in, he reluctantly took off his clothes. Standing before me naked, I couldn’t help peruse his gorgeous body. His muscles rippled, and with the sun setting and limited light in the bedroom, it took the shadows and made his physique look all the more muscular.

One member of his body was soft though and it worried me. Needing to step up my game, I motioned for him to sit on the chair and told him, “Put your hands behind your back so I can tie you.”

He hesitated. Did he not trust me? “Chelsea, I know I tied you up but I, well I...” He let out a long sigh and tried to start again, “I trust you but...” I got it. He didn’t think I had it in me to drive him crazy.

“Don’t worry. I won’t actually tie it. Here.” Taking both of his hands, I held them up and wound the scarf around once, showing how I would place them in his hands making it so he could easily escape. “I will wrap this around the rung of the chair, but you can let go at any time. See?” He looked up at me with disbelieving eyes. “C’mon, please?” I used my best pleading voice.

He gave me a small, reluctant smile while I unwound the scarf. “Okay.” I smiled back at him meekly, distressed about my lack of confidence, but not wanting to show him. Thankfully, he would give me a shot at this. I couldn’t screw up or he would know I sucked at this and there would go our ‘play.’

Bringing his hands around to the back of the chair, I took care to wrap the scarf around his hands, thread it through the back lower rung, and place the ends in his palms to hold. “See? You can get out whenever you want. Just try not to do it until I tell you to.” He didn’t acknowledge me, but he didn’t say no either.

Grabbing another scarf from the chair in the corner, I placed it around his eyes, “Chelsea, I don’t know about this.”

He still continued to doubt me. “Oh please, Brandt. I have been preparing this all day. I promise to turn you on. Just give me a chance.” He sighed and gave in. I blindfolded him with the scarf and noticed his soft member and realized I had done nothing to turn him on yet. Time to turn on the heat.

Nervously I plotted my next step. This was where I needed to make it work. I took my cues from what he did with my body to turn me on and started with a deeper, hopefully sexier voice, “You told me bondage takes away some senses and makes others work harder. I want to do that to you.”

Okay, I sounded a little dumb, but his breathing had at least picked up. Again, in the best alluring voice, I said, “Your sight has been taken away, so I want you to envision me in the nightie you bought for me. It is so soft, and it feels so good rubbing against my sensitive parts.” His current smile encouraged me.

“Your hearing isn’t impaired, so I will describe everything I want to do to you including sucking on your thick cock.” Another smile and things were finally developing down under. He knew how hard it was for me to say things like ‘cock,’ but I mentally tried to remember what a difference it could make. Calming with his reaction, I went on.

“Your touch was taken away, but I can touch you.” Reaching down to touch his now stiffening penis, I started by lightly stroking it and watching it grow. I thought back to Wisconsin when we were still learning each other’s bodies and how far I had come. I knew how to work his shaft now. He told me it drove him insane when I ever so lightly caressed it and I wanted so badly to make this work.

Kneeling by the chair, I gave it my full concentration. Working my hand up and down his shaft, first softly then increasingly harder, caused his penis to stiffen until it stood up fully. That was just the beginning. “I know other ways of touching you too.” I placed my mouth on the tip of his penis and brought my lips down, shielding my teeth. He bucked up against the scarf but didn’t let go.

Just like in Wisconsin, I felt my body turn on. Was it the taste of him in my mouth or the power of causing him pleasure? I didn’t care. I knew my nipples were erect and a flood dampened my inner thighs. However I aroused him, it worked for me too. I looked up at him to gauge his reaction. His jaw clenched and his breathing came in gasps. Now, to see how far I could send him. He did such a good job with me; it would be disappointing to him if I didn’t return the favor.

I licked the vein under his penis, the bulging one, enthralled with it, but I had more to do. I let go of his penis with my mouth and stood back up. He moaned causing me to smile. Only two senses left. Smell and taste. I didn’t know how the smell would go over, but I was too far into the fantasy I created in my mind to care.

Taking off the bottoms to my nightie, I held it up to his nose, “Smell is another heightened sense. Can you smell me, Brandt?” I watched as he sniffed the panties I brought to his face and again he bucked against my restraint making me smile again. That went better than expected.

Taste was tricky. I had chocolate-covered cherries I bought for this, but now it didn’t seem right. I figured it would end with me riding him while he sat in the chair but the thought of him munching on the cherries while I finished him off just didn’t seem to fit in now. A thought came and I hesitated only briefly. I knew exactly what would arouse him and went ahead with it before I chickened out.

Placing my finger up inside me, I got it wet with my juices. It felt weird, never having done this before but I wanted to send Brandt over the edge, and knew it would drive him crazy. It always amazed me how aroused I became when I turned Brandt on. I guessed me doing this wasn’t all bad.

“The last sense is the one of taste. Are you ready to taste me, Brandt? Taste what you do to me?” and I placed my finger into his mouth. He sucked eagerly, and a growl came from deep inside. All his veins stood up on his body, and his penis was strained, sticking up to where it hit his tight stomach. He suddenly let go of the scarf and undid his blindfold, and the look he had scared me and excited me at the same time.


Brandt

When I first came home and saw her dressed in the nightie, I thought we were in for a rousing night of ‘tie me up and make me scream.’ Much to my dismay, she wanted to tie me up. I didn’t know if I could go through with it. With me tied, I lost the control feature I craved. I hated losing control. My love of play came with me controlling her, but I was concerned with divulging that information. Would she understand?

At least we gave up the handcuffs for the scarf. I could let go of it at any time, but I knew how important this was for her. She struggled with her confidence. Struggled to trust her own sexuality and I liked to watch it come out. I wanted to nurture it, and if this would help, I would try.

When she started, I didn’t think much would happen. She would try her best, and we would laugh it off. Unfortunately, I underestimated her again. She was so fucking sexy, and I loved when her inner devil showed. My body had no choice but to betray me. After the first four senses, I sat on the edge of the seat as hard as rebar and close to blowing. Still, I wished the tables were turned.

Mentally I ticked off the other sense in my mind. Taste should be the last one I had to endure. Then I could take off the scarf and pleasure her like I really wanted instead of feeling like a dipshit in this chair letting her work me.

Chelsea leaned in, and in her bedroom voice, which seemed both cute and sexy. “The last sense is the one of taste. Are you ready to taste me, Brandt? Taste what you do to me?” She put her finger in my mouth, and I sucked hard.

The taste was, well... holy shit that was the taste of her. The taste of her pussy. I envisioned her fingering herself and bringing the dripping finger up to my lips, and I lost it.

A growl erupted from deep inside me as I let go of the scarf around my hands and lifted my blindfold. She stood in front of me, naked from the waist down and looking at me with a stunned expression. Not hesitating, I grabbed her and threw her on the bed. Spreading her legs apart, I drove my cock in deep.

The feel of her tight pussy around me proved too sensational for me to stop. She was amazingly wet. She got wet when her inner bad girl came out, and it pleased me too. My face strained as I pumped into her, but my reserve faltered with the taste of her still on my lips. The thought of her fingering herself for the first time to pleasure me pulled at my self-control. I made one last halfhearted effort to make this last before I exploded into her, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt. She stared at me stunned as my breathing made a futile attempt at self-regulation.

Chelsea didn’t say anything, just stared in amazement as I made a better effort to calm down and control myself. Shit. What did that show her? That I was a fucking loser on a hair-trigger. If I couldn’t control myself, how would I ever control myself with her tied up?

Then she giggled. “Well, that wasn’t exactly how I envisioned it ending, but I guess I am not going to complain.”

Embarrassed, I stammered, “Chelsea, I... I am sorry.”

“Brandt, it is okay. Tonight, was for you. I wanted to show you I could do what you wanted me too.”

Did she think I expected her to do this to me? No, this was something I needed to do to her. A compulsion. “Chelsea, I didn’t want... I mean it was okay but...” I didn’t finish when I saw her forehead wrinkle, and she frowned. Shit Brandt. Now you made her feel bad.

“You didn’t like it?”

“Of course you turned me on, but...” How do I tell her it was not just a simple request but an urge like no other? That I got off on controlling her. Having her submit to me without sounding like one of the social deviants she worried about? I didn’t think I could make her understand, but then she started to giggle again. Now what was running through that crazy head of hers?

Chelsea put her hands around my face and lifted it up to look into her eyes. “Why you little control freak. You didn’t like it, did you?” She found me out. Shaking her head, she continued to laugh and I succumbed to my predicament. “I didn’t like it either.”

She didn’t? I thought she wanted to do this. “You didn’t?”

She smiled and looked into my eyes with the most endearing look, “No, I would rather be the one on the other end. Brandt, you can control me anytime you want just promise me I will never have to do that again.” I couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t want to control me. We were both on the same page with this. She thought she had to pull her weight and tie me up, but she preferred the other side of this better, and I was relieved because I didn’t want it any other way.

Making sure we were talking about the same thing I inquired, “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Hell no. What you do to me makes me...” She blushed, “Feel so good.” Oh, thank God, I shook my head, knowing I wouldn’t need to endure her torture anymore.

“I prefer to control you. I don’t enjoy losing control.” How did I read this so wrong?

“Brandt, I am not saying I won’t want to be the aggressor sometimes, but you can have all the control over me. I love what you do to my body and I trust you.” And then as an afterthought, “The control is only in bed though.”

I can’t exactly control you outside of the bedroom, now can I?

Chelsea did not understand the power she had over me. She was my kryptonite and I loved her. “What you do not recognize is who has the control. If I need the control and you give it willingly, then who really has the upper hand?”

I leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped me by turning her face. Noting my confused expression, she explained, “Ah, you may want to brush your teeth first?” There she was. Right on schedule. I knew the good girl would find her way back. I shook my head and laughed as I got up to brush my teeth.

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