The Chair and the Noose - BDSM, Breathplay - Xposted | 2016

When Cynthia comes in, she immediately strips. This is a rule.

On Fridays, there is a procedure, a ceremony of ownership that must be followed.

She gets home first, I get home second and find her waiting, kneeling, head bowed and nude but for an ankle cuff.

“Welcome home Master,” she says, “May I worship your cock.”

“No,” I say, “I have something else in mind. Follow me crawling.”

I head into the bedroom, not even looking at her, knowing that she will crawl and knowing that my not looking at her will only add to her feelings of submission.

I start to strip and point to a spot on the floor and say, “Get the fucking chair and put it under the pole. Don't stand.”

She crawls to the fucking chair, a sturdy dining room table chair, called the fucking chair because it was shaped and the right height for me to sit on it and for her to ride me cowgirl or reverse cowgirl. She awkwardly drags it with one hand while crawling, making her ass shake pleasantly to the spot.

When I rented this townhouse, it had exposed beams in the master. The rental agent had told me that the owner had liked the industrial look of the metal beams and apologized. They were ugly and to be fair while the room would have fit a metal band practice area, was a terrible looking bedroom.

But the kinkster sees something else. The kinkster sees sturdy sturdy beams to hang a submissive from.

She drags the chair to the spot I pointed too, an area of the room I kept clear for suspension play. I walk over and pat her on the head.

“Good girl,” I say, “now get the noose and bring the small blue vibe back in your mouth..”

She was a good girl and didn't look up in surprise, she knew what was coming as soon as I said it and hurried, crawling, to the toy box to get out the “noose”. It wasn't a noose at all, we just called it that. The “Noose” was a large leather collar strap that wound around her neck before being affixed to a rope with a carabeener. It allowed for an easy fluid, wide area choke on her neck while being so loose that it would slip to or from a choking strength without catching.

“Good,” I said as she brought them back, the vibrator lewdly between her teeth. “Now go get the handcuffs and the nipple clamps with that really long chain and carry them back in your mouth. When you get here, put them on behind your back and kneel before me.”

As she crawled off again, I adjusted the chair, throw the noose over the beam and made sure everything was angled properly. She came back and quickly (she had practice) locked first her right wrist and then put her hands behind her back and locked the left wrist. She knelt and shuffled to face me. I sat and then affixed the noose around her neck. I held the other end, the rope end that was over the beam in my right hand. I tugged it slightly, pulling the noose taught on her neck. She never looked up, like a good slave she just waited.

“Use your mouth for what it was designed for slut,” I said and she immediately went to work on my cock. She nuzzled it for a moment to get it hard enough to easily work it into her mouth and then began to bob her head up and down. “We both know what I am planning,” I said as she sucked and licked and worked my cock with her hands stuck behind her back. “What I haven't decided yet is if you get to cum or not during it.”

She didn't say a word. In slave mode, and it was always slave mode when I got home on Fridays until I said otherwise, she wasn't allowed to speak until spoken too or unless some ritual required it. She wasn't allowed to ask for orgasm.

Her mouth on my cock worked at me in as many ways as she could. She knew she wasn't trying to get me off, just hard.

“Stand,” I said, deciding I was hard enough. I pulled on the rope with my right hand and grabbed her breast savagely with my left to help her stand. I reached my left hand between her legs and felt her wet, shaved pussy. “Such a little cum whore, so wet knowing what is about to happen to you. What does that make you slut?”

“A dirty slut,” she said.

“Be more specific,” I said.

“A fuck hole of a woman who has no purpose in life but to be used for the pleasure of her master,” she said softly, but with feeling.

With my left hand I pulled her forward and helped her lower herself slowly onto my cock. We both moaned in pleasure.

First the nipple clamps. I placed one on her right and the other on her left. She winced slightly. These weren't the tightest cruelest clamps. I had worse ones. But they weren't meant to be cruel . . . yet. I had her slowly slid up my cock until my head was close to popping out and I held her at that height while pulling down on the nipple clamp chain, wrapping it around my left hand.

The key to the nipple clamps is that they must be barely noticed when she was fully impaled on my cock, but the higher she rose off me, the more they would pull and hurt her. An incentive to not stay up for very long.

I adjusted the rope with my right hand while holding her shaft deep onto my cock with my left hand. She sighed as the clamps stopped pulling. I looked for the right height for the rope.

The key here, the key to making this work was to finding the exact pressure to pull the rope at so that the last inch or so of my cock she slid down until was fully on my cock, as deep as she could take it, she couldn't breathe. But the second she lifted up past that last inch or so, she regained a bit of the ability to breath and standing high enough that my cock would almost come out, she could breathe fully. In other words, she had complete control of her own breathing.

Finally the vibrator. I held it in place, with my left hand against the skin just above my cock. When she was fully slid down my cock, it would be directly on her clit.

So, there she was, with full control of her own motions. She was sitting in my lap, her feet on the floor so she could fuck me. Every time she lifted up, sliding that wet pussy up my shaft, her nipples would be pulled painfully down. Every time she slid that wonderful pussy down my cock, she would lose the ability to breathe, but feel the pleasure of my cock inside her and the vibrator against her clit.

All set up (she was hovering mid way between chocking and nipple pain) I said, “Fuck me.”

She immediately started to slide down and back up. I leaned back and happily enjoyed the pleasure and the show.

The thing about this that is just so fucking devilish, is that its hard fucking work. Pun intended. I had her hands behind her back. She had no way to steady herself, no way to grip for balance, no way to hold on. It was all in her legs. It was tiring and hard work and she had to take breaks.

At first she road me like a champ. Fast enough that she probably barely noticed the noose taking her air away and had time to breathe in short gasps each time she rose up. But after a few minutes of amazing fucking, she started to tire.

That was part of the fun, watching her stand, long enough to get her breath, moaning as her nipples her and then feeling her drop back down, wheezing as she lost the ability to breath.

It was getting even harder for her because she was getting close to orgasm. She was a true slut and the combination of pain, pleasure and humiliation was doing a number on her.

I started to help, thrusting my hips up and down, I knew she was getting too tired to really finish me off.

So we fucked like that. Her alternating between pain and air and no-air and pleasure while I thrust in to meet her and soon I was getting very close.

“I'm going to cum,” I said and she moaned slightly and picked up her speed with a renewed vigor. I felt it surge threw me and said, “Stay down.”

She did, she planted herself firmly on my cock, her clit firmly on the vibrator, as I came. She didn't move, didn't draw in a breath the entire time I was orgasming and I didn't tell her to move as I recovered. I felt her body trembling above and against mine, from impending orgasm and lack of air.

Cynthia was working on orgasming on command and one of the ways we practiced was at times like this. When she was so close, using the command to push her over the edge.

“Cynthia,” I said, “Cum for me now.” I heard her make something like an “erk” noise and I began the count.

“Five, four, three, two, one, cum now,” I said and her body immediately began to buck and rock, she made small gasping noises and I held the rope tight, not letting her breathe, knowing that it would intensify things. As her orgasm started to subside, I loosed the rope and she collapsed into me. Breathing and conscious, but barely.

For more of my work: http://www.reddit.com/r/ReaderAnonErotica/