Erotic Bedtime Stories podcast, Fiction

Following Instructions

It hung there, unopened, creamy white and expectant in midair. An unmarked envelope tied to a string over the kitchen counter.

She sat down her work things, piled her keys and purse on the counter, slipped off her blazer and placed it over the dining room chair.

With a smile that betrayed her prudence, she took hold of the envelope and detached it from the string that held it.  Placing her finger under the flap, running it along the length, she split the paper slowly and gently, exposing a folded card, which she dislodged from its encasement and flipped open.

Take off your clothes, right where you are.  Leave them folded, neatly on the counter.  Pour yourself a glass of wine, grab your cell phone, and take them both to the bedroom.  Push play on the CD player, and prop yourself up in the middle of the bed.  Slowly play with yourself – without penetration – while you enjoy your glass of wine.

I will be watching your every move.

She licked her lips as her cheeks brightened to a hotter shade of pink.  But she placed the note on the counter and proceeded to follow the instructions, almost laughing to herself.  This was all so new…the instructions…the obedience…the possibility of punishment or reward.

She slipped out of her black pumps, reached her arms behind her back to unzip her sheath dress, and stepped out of it, careful not to leave it in a heap on the floor at her feet.  The folded dress in a neat pile on the counter, she turned her attention to her nylons, peeling them down over her hips and ample rear, rolling them down her thighs, her knees, and finally stepped out of them, placing them beside the folded dress on the counter.  Left in nothing but her plain black bra and panties, she licked her lips, glanced at the bar to consider the wine selection, and finished her disrobing.  Folding her lingerie neatly on top of her dress, she walked to the bar, selected a glass, and poured it half full.  She grabbed her cell phone on her way back through the kitchen and made her way to the bedroom.

As she was told to do, she pressed play on the CD player, and climbed onto the bed. Placing her wine glass on the nightstand, she began moving pillows around to create a backrest against the headboard.  A second envelope was hidden beneath the last pillow.

Once again, she smiled, a bit sheepishly, as she slid her finger under the flap and released its contents.

Place your phone beside you and wait for my texts.  Light a candle, enjoy the music and the wine.  But mostly, enjoy yourself. Remember, however…you are not to penetrate your opening.  It must remain untouched for me.

She lit the candle on the nightstand, placed her phone on the bed, turned off the light, closed the door, and found her way to the middle of the bed.  Situating herself, she took her wine glass into her left hand, and let her right hand slide between her bent and spread legs.

With her finger circling her clitoris, slowly keeping time with the music, she took a long sip of her wine and began to wonder just how he could be watching her.  A camera?  She glanced around the room, letting her eyes linger in places that looked suspect. No rustling or breathing emanated from the closet, so he couldn’t be spying on her from there.

The phone began to vibrate, and the screen lit up with a text notification icon.

She took her hand away from herself and tapped the text button, leaving a trace of moisture on the screen that made her bite her lip and giggle silently to herself.

Keep your mind on what you are doing.  Stop worrying about where I am.

She flushed at the reprimand and placed her hand back between her legs.  Like a good girl, she closed her eyes, took another swallow of wine, and worried about nothing but pleasuring herself.

Swirling her fingers, rubbing her entire palm across the heat of her sex, grinding the pad of her thumb into her clit.  She grew wet with desire and began to squirm, her wine sloshing in the glass, dangerously close to spilling over the edge.  A whimper collected in the back of her throat, releasing to the tone of the cell phone’s vibration.

Not yet.  Slow down.  I didn’t tell you that you could come.

She sighed and rolled her eyes like a petulant child, pouting.  A whispered expletive escaped her mouth and was met by a third vibration from her phone.

Is that a bit of an attitude I sense?  Apparently someone needs a little discipline.  Put the blindfold on and roll on to your stomach in the middle of the bed.  Spread your arms and legs wide.

She did as she was told, expectant and nervous.  In the blackness, she heard the front door open and close, heavy footsteps crossing the living room floor, into the kitchen.  She held her breath, unintentionally, as the bedroom doorknob turned and the door squeaked as it opened.  Cold fingers slid across her back, down her spine, and then…

The swooshing sound was quick, but she braced herself knowing what would follow.  The crack of his palm meeting with the skin of her behind reverberated – echoing in the room.  She winced and whimpered a little.

“It is early, yet…” he said.  “There are so many things I want to do to you.”

She heard the clicking of a suitcase or briefcase being opened…the clinking of metal…and then felt the icy sensation of it pressing against her skin…

The sensation was mixed…whatever the item was that he was dragging across her back, it was sharp — hurting and tickling at the same time.  She squirmed and jerked as he moved the metal over the most sensitive spots on her sides and lower back…and right down the crack of her ass.  She squealed, and her body, involuntarily, jolted…her legs pulling up and her elbows digging into her ribs.

“You’re going to have to lie still.  Or I’ll be forced to tie you down.”

“I can’t help it…” she whined.

“You’ll have to…or I will do it for you.”

“I’ll try…” she responded, in a highly unconvincing tone.

“I don’t think I can trust you when you sound so unsure of yourself.  Roll over and put your knees up.”

She did what he said.

“Now clasp your hands together behind your knees.”

She, again, did as he commanded, and felt him wrap her wrists in something with Velcro and then connect them with a click.  When her hands were well-secured behind her knees, her ankles suffered the same fate.

Her sex exposed, he began to stroke the outer labia with the backs of his fingers…then ran them between her pussy lips, spreading them like a curtain.

She let out her breath slowly and dramatically. A rivulet of moisture slipped out of her and dripped onto the sheet, disappearing beneath her ass.

“Ahhh…I see that someone is enjoying herself already…”

“Yes…” she whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir…”

“That’s a good girl. I like it when you’re wet for me.”

He flicked his tongue across her clit a few times and then took it between his teeth, gently, and began to suck it hard…until she squealed.

“Stop!  I can’t handle it anymore…”

“Yes.  You can.  And you will.”  He went back to it, until she was nearly in tears, her ankles and wrists straining against their confines.  He’d left the penetration for last, wanted her nether mouth wet and gaping, hungry for him…desperate.  He slipped one finger into her, just to the second knuckle.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want it…please…I want you to shove it in deep…”

“Keep going…”

“Two fingers, three…your whole fucking hand…your cock, I want you buried in me, fucking me so hard the wetness splashes all over our thighs…”  she spat the words out in near-angry frustration.

“That’s better.”  He slipped the whole finger, slowly and methodically twisting it in and out, careful to graze her g-spot on every entrance and exit.  Her hips rotated and bucked to meet him, trying to hurry him, but he resisted, taking his time.

“Please, sir…I need to be fucked…”  a small, pleading voice.

“Oh, you’ll be fucked…when I’m damned good and ready.”

She whimpered, defeated, and sighed like a balloon losing all of its air.  He continued to play, teasing her with his one finger, pulling it out and tracing the outside of her lips, the inside, the clit, the slit, and then down…down…to her tight, puckered little anus.  He knew it made her uncomfortable…but he also knew she liked it.  Already well-lubed by her own juices, he eased his finger slowly into her asshole.

“You like that don’t you, you dirty, little whore?”

“Yes, sir…” she breathed, her cheeks blazing.

“Roll over.”

It took some maneuvering, and he didn’t help her at all with her struggle.  She squirmed and fidgeted her way onto her knees, her face and neck jammed into the bed, her wrists and ankles still secured.

“Such a beautiful pussy…” he purred from behind her.  He licked it, sucked on it, made it drip.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please, sir…I want your…I need your cock in me – I need to feel you explode in me…use me…”  She was breathless, almost tearful, pleading for relief.  Her sex was throbbing.  Should could hear him unbuttoning his jeans, could feel his shirt lifting up on her ass, as he unceremoniously shoved his cock balls deep into her without warning.  She screamed with the shock…the intensity of it.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow….”  The calmness of his words belied his body’s actions — forceful and furious.  He reached down and grabbed her hair, pulling it back to force her ass up to greet him even more readily.  He pounded into her, his pelvic bones slamming into her ass, their skin slapping together…

His demands pushed through clenched teeth, almost a groan, “Come, bitch….I want you to come…I want to feel you dripping and gushing…I want to hear you scream…”

And she did just that.  All over his thighs.  And as she did, his hot cum exploded into her, mixing with hers to create a thick, creamy mess of her red and swollen pussy.  He let go of her hair and pulled out of her slowly so that he could watch the cum spill out of her onto the sheets in front of him.

“Now thank me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“For what?”

“For fucking me, sir…for making me come…for coming inside of me.”

He smacked her ass one more time for good measure, leaving a vibrant, red hand print on her ass.

“Good, girl.  I’ll let you free after I have a quick shower.”

And there she was, left in the dark, sweaty and dripping with cum.  Alone…and vulnerable, knowing full well that if she moved, there would be sweet, beautiful hell to pay.

(This story was originally published in two parts, the first of which was written for Wicked Wednesday in 2013.)


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By Brigit Delaney

Welcome to my little corner of the internet! I am a blogger, poet, photographer, and writer of erotica, living in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. I'm glad you came. Sit back, kick off your shoes, and stay awhile.


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