The handwritten card read:
Candlelit Dinner for Two. Friday, 21:00. Dress well. Do not be late.
Blue Velvet dress, The highest high heels, the ones she can only just manage to stand in. They hurt, but the pain is good. It makes her legs look great and she wants to impress him. He's hinted that this evening was to be something really special. He kept referring to it as a hot dinner date. She arrives at his front door, pays the cab driver, wobbles slightly on the heels as she makes her way. The door is unlocked, she slips into the darkened room beyond. A spotlight snaps on.
She jumps half out of her skin. Whatever she was expecting, this isn't it. She hears him cough, and relaxes a little. Alright, so he wants to play games? She directs a glare off into the darkness, then starts to show off. Hand on hip- look how good my legs are! Look how high the heels are! Look how gracefully I can stand on them!
He emerges from the shadows, a vague form in the darkness. He's dressed all in black, even wearing gloves and a fine silk mask. He steps very close, invading her personal space, plants one hand in the small of her back. She feels his breath hot on her face, even through the mask. Then he kicks her legs out from under her. She yelps in surprise and lands on her backside. She knows it is a game, and one she's been aching to play. She makes helpless damsel eyes at him as he produces white ropes from his pocket. She kicks and struggles, just a little token resistance to spice the dish, as he hogties her and carries her in to the small dining room. She pouts and shimmies.
If this is the starter, what will the main course be like?
"You're making too much noise. This'll shut you up."
Bright red tape over bright red lipstick. He was moving around out of her sight, preparing things. She hear a match strike, the fridge door opening in the kitchen. For a few minutes, her is busy, ignoring her. She wriggles, test her bonds. In passing, he removes her shoes and tickles her soles. The lascivious long lick he bestows from her toes to her heel hints and pleasures and pain to come. He admires the curves of her body, runs strong hands between her thighs.
"Quite hot. Time to cool you down a little."
Untied, stripped, re-tied. She does not have long to wait until dinner is served.
Candlelit dinner for two? So she's the candelabra, it is still candlelit, isn't it?
Dinner for two? So she's the dinner table. Those grapes are really cold, right out of the refrigerator and almost at freezing point. But her master eats some, and feeds her some in between prodding her with the business end of the chopsticks, and tickling and tormenting her bare feet with them. When he starts to run out her positions some more, artistically positioned in the crack of her ass. He rolls the cold, cold spheres around her flesh, teasing and torturing her.
A hot dinner date? That wax drips, and it is HOT. If she didn't jiggle around so much, she wouldn't get so many drips. But each drip brings a yelp and an involuntary twitch and leads to more drips and more yelps...
A dinner date to remember.
Many thanks #1 Bondage Maestro Jim Weathers, whose hands you can see adding those little extra touches of torture!