Welcome to another episode of Bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled “Feather Play” Tell me, Sir, how do I please you? I need to know. Shall I submit to you? Shall I offer you my moistened lips? Will you tease me or spank me because I have been a very naughty Salty Vixen.Will you respect me with your whip? May I moan with pleasure? May I look into your eyes? May I except your goodness while I pleasure deep inside?
Tell me Sir, how do I please you? I need to know because I am so fucking horny and I really need to worship your cock.
Sir, what do you have for me tonight? What is the choice of BDSM toy? a feather? oh yes. Let's begin..
Listen to "Feather Play" on Spreaker.
I am standing in the middle of the room, eyes covered by the same cool, black, silk, blindfold. You, Doctor, take my arms, fastening something cold, hard, and metallic around them. With a start, I realize they are manacles. Apart from their weight though, they are not uncomfortable, thanks mostly to their soft lining.
Slowly they begin to raise, pulling my arms up with them by my wrists. My double D-breasts are exposed and defenseless, as that was your intention, I then thrust my chest out with a smile. They keep rising and slowly, I am drawn up on to the very tips of my toes, leaving me straining to keep contact with the ground.
I keep rising until floor disappears beneath me and I am left suspended, swinging by my wrists. A moment later, ear plugs are gently pushed into my ears, leaving me unable to see or hear my environment.
Short of smell, the only sense I have left is touch, the realization of which leads to a thousand tiny hairs standing on end as my body tunes itself to this one sense.
Oh yes baby, I like where this is going!
Nothing happens. It may only be minutes, but it could be hours or days. Left as I am, unable to experience the world, time has no meaning. The only feeling is my weight on my arms, slowly starting to ache.
All of a sudden, a tiny point touches me. My senses on edge, the sensation explodes across me, a bolt of lightning and a thousand tiny caresses at the same time. Then it disappears.
I moan, the loss of my one sensation is almost too much to bear. And then it's back. Light, soft, scratching. Oh, it is the tip of a feather. It begins to trace light patterns all over my body, running down my chest, across the curve of my stomach and down the taut inside of my left thigh. I try and struggle, to get closer, but suspended as I am, I simply swing uselessly.
For a moment there's frustration, then it changes to warm relaxation, knowing you are totally in control, but that's OK, that I am safe.
Down the feather travels, its path leaving trails of flame across skin that screams out for touch. Across the hard top of my foot, then racing back up.
"Please, touch my pussy!" I think to myself, as it races up past. Over my stomach and ribs it dances, flicking across a breast, the touch leaving it tingling, then it's on to my throat. Around the side it dances, up behind my ear, to that exciting place that just cries out to be touched.
Each touch there sends waves of warm arousal down to my crotch. And then it's moving again, over to my lips, where I strain to kiss it, to show what it's doing for me.
You let me press my lips against the feather for a moment, tasting, feeling, then move it down once more.
A straight, unerring path, towards my crotch. As it reaches my mons, I strain against my weight, lifting my vagina up, offering it to the touch. The feather just misses, barely skirting my labia, with it's trails of fire, before reaching the inside of my right thigh. Up and down it strokes, building sensation, building the warms that's growing inside me. Another sensation joins the touch, that of wetness, as my vagina gently moistens.
I strain, again and again, trying to get it to touch me where I want it, where I need it but it just doesn't work. Tears of frustration form beneath the blindfold and I plead for release.
Whether you respond is impossible to tell in my dark, soundless world, certainly the feather doesn't do what I want it to.
Just as it's all about to become too much, when you are sure I can’t take it any more, in a single flick the feather shoots up to my clitoris, the feeling exploding across me, plunging me into a swirling orgasm.
As I regain my grip on reality, my legs have been lifted, my thighs over your shoulders... your face buried deep into me, working me closer and closer to another...
Oh, Sir, I love BDSM play with you….I can't wait until we do it again...
