A Night in Bondage (Pieces of her story)

For the first half ahn she writhed in her pitiful state of bondage, and with each movement the rope would roll to one side, or the other of her clitoris. The perfect tempo of swirling her hips was found, and she dry humped that rope like a slut with a mission. He had reduced her to behaving like an animal who had an itch that needed to be scratched. His slumber was disturbed with a throaty groan that escaped lush lips when she finally found release into that sublime pleasure. She then whimpered to be untied for the next half ahn. Finally after an ahn she fell quiet, resigned to the fact that she would be sleeping bound at the foot of her Master's bed; a first for her.

It would be a long, almost painful night in his bonds. She slept off an on, sometimes waking to just lay there in the dark, and listen to his inhale and exhale of breaths. She was beginning to feel the soreness set in at having to lay bound in that position on her knees, wrists tied behind her back, ropes intricately looped around her ankles, and her body. The need to feel the warmth of his body, to hold her breath when he stirred, to be able to watch him as he slept, as she had done so many times in the past...that was the agonizing part.

Agrippa had been the only man to ever tap into Elizabeth's psyche, and it had begun the first night her met her. Like a master sculpture he had slowly chipped away at her to reveal what lay beneath that demure persona. Not even she herself knew the depths at which he could find ways to control her, but she was slowly beginning to learn. His hold on her was deepening, a thing she did think was even possible. Just when she thought he could see no deeper into her soul he found another secret door, opened it, and stepped through.