The day Daddy and I broke up, I received a package. It was the Paloqueth rabbit vibrator and bondage kit the company had sent me to try out for them. They want me to write something about the products, and I was happy to take the offer. But now I am despondent. How can I face these things that he and I had planned on trying together with my broken heart? 

A month goes by and I am using the vibrator regularly. It is really fantastic. I have always been a DIY sort of clitoral orgasm lady, using my fingers in a rhythm perfected over 10s of thousands of times, but vibration far exceeds other methods of stimulation. I am loathe to say this because in so many of my relationships oral sex has played a huge role and is a make or break issue, but this is better than oral sex. Sometimes I put the phallus in, but most of the time I just let the ears of the little rabbit on top vibrate over my clit. Both are excellent, it just depends on how much I want to get into it. If I want to orgasm to relieve pressure, I put it on the second setting and let the little rabbit ears tickle me until I come. But if I want to spend a little time, so I go to https://onlyfans.com/yearofthericky (HOT!!!) and watch Ricky Johnson do what he does best, while I cover the head with lube and find the setting I like. There are 9, but I have only made it to two and I’m coming in minutes.  It is a complete orgasm with the phallus inserted. It makes me feel like I’m rippling from the inside out. 

Still, during the entire month of May, the bondage kit sits untouched. As do I. I can’t handle being with someone new right now. I was so free with Daddy, and he took advantage of it. I want to trust someone again, but I am in no hurry. The whole month I side eye the kit as I walk by my desk. I am loathe to open it as it will just remind me of what Daddy and I could have had with each other.  But then, just when I need him, H returns. He flies back in in the knick of time. I can always rely on him like that. I tell him my dilemma, and he says he wants to help. But we need terms first. This time we will keep it real. We’ll keep it to what we are good at, no strings, and just this one time. For my research. We both agree. 

I am really happy to see him as he walks in my door. I almost forget I am wearing fishnet stockings, knee high black boots, a sheer camisole and a tight black corset. I thought maybe I should dress for the occasion. We try to talk a little, but my outfit is working too well. We are both distracted, and the chemistry literally crackles between us. We can talk all we want after. Right now the bondage kit is slightly more urgent. 

We open it on my bed and spread everything out. Pretty much all you need to get started in bondage is there.  Blindfold, restraints, rope, nipple clamps, a leash, even a ball gag. I let him know I probably won’t want to try the ball gag. Non plussed, He goes for the nipple clamps. He loves my nipples and has told me so repeatedly. They are very large and almost constantly erect. The kind that want to be pinched and twisted, he says. He can’t wait to use them on me, and his excitement is palpable. These clamps are good because they are adjustable, and you can make them tighter or less tight. He pulls down my camisole so my breasts  show.  First he licks each one.  Then when he tries a clamp, I squeal out in shock. It is really tight! He loosens it until I stop whining. He is breathing heavy and I can tell having this kind of control over me is turning him on to no end. We have been Dom/sub since the beginning, but with the tools for actual bondage there is so much more to explore. He clamps my other nipple, and I give the same reaction. They are so big that no matter what setting the clamps are on, it is super tight. He doesn’t want to hurt me and is starting to feel bad, so he takes them off and we move on to the restraints.

I have been tied to a bedpost with a tie before, but it was poorly done and I came unbound half way through. Besides that, this will be my first time in restraints. I can’t wait for him to do it. To really take control. It is easy for us to slip back into our rolls, and he makes my blood run hot like he always does. He tells me to extend my right arm, and then my left as he ritualistically fastens one fuzzy cuff at a time. Then he commands me to lay on my back, which I do. He binds one ankle and then the other.  Then, like a curious scientist, he connects my wrists together and then my ankles, with the chains provided, one to the other. He looks at his creation and smiles. Holding both chains in one hand, he pulls them up and I become a marionette. I feel loose and free in restraints. I didn’t think I would like it this much. That liquid feeling of surrender. Later, he told me my body changed when I became bound. It became more open, more pliable, softer.  He was even more attracted to it and wanted to possess it even more. 

He moves me around with ease to poses that please him. Hands behind the back, hands bound in front, hands bound to feet. He takes breaks from posing me to  use his fingers to explore my crevices. I trust him and know he will respect my boundaries in this compromised state. He knows what my limits are, and we have a safe word (which we have never used). I have already told him it is OK to rip the stockings, and he tears a whole in the crotch. He lets out a grunt when he discovers I have nothing on underneath. He then tickles my sex with his fingers, and makes that face I wanted him to make. Where his lip snarls just a little and I can see his white teeth flash, and his eyes slivering as he becomes intoxicated with me. 

Then he does something I don’t expect. He buries his face in my pussy. I gasp with joyous surprise. To be bound and receiving this attention is giving me the greatest pleasure. He has me coming in his mouth before he is done. Damn, I almost forgot what it is like with him.  

After he is finished pleasing me orally. He unfastens my ankles and commands me to get on my knees. When he takes out the leash, I am pulsing with anticipation, and I bow my head to my master. He gets that title because he makes me feel safe, cared for, and adored. The bond between us, even after six months, is strong, and we can feel the ebb and flow of each other as if we had never parted. He pulls the leash tight in his hand and wraps it around several times, giving it a good tug to check my resistance, as if he is commanding a pit bull. Is this how he sees me? A fierce creature to be tamed. I don’t mind. I like being ruled by him. 

He pulls my head down to his lap, and I sniff around his crotch. If he is going to treat me like a dog, I may as well act like one! He lowers his pants and underwear to reveal his perfect erection. Oh how I missed that fat dick! I pant and lick it hello, giving it kisses from top to bottom, and tasting sweet and salty droplets that come out. Balancing on my knees I treat him to a lovely, hands free, blow job. I am impressing myself with how well I am doing, and impressing him too by the sound of it. I get his fat dick all the way down my throat until it is engorged with blood and the good spit starts coming. Then he can move back and forth freely as I lean my head over the side of the bed and allow him to use my mouth as he pleases. In a burst of inspiration he grabs the vibrator and has me lick the head of it. Then he turns it on and rubs the it against my opening and works it in. The sensation of being penetrated on both ends is driving me crazy. I am already running juice down the inside of my legs. The vibration is bringing me up and up, and I begin an unending wave of orgasm that moves my body from inside out. Meanwhile, he is swearing over the glorious blowjob he is receiving. I catch a glimpse in the mirror and the visual is almost too sexy. His head is rolled back as he holds the leash tightly with one hand and pulses the vibrator with the other.  Oh God, I missed him! Such an understanding, honest, compatible lover does not come around that often. 

He wants to try the whip now, and I do too. He keeps the vibrator in me and sets it to the third setting. I position myself on the edge of the bed on all fours, my hands still bound, sputtering with the pushing of the vibrator, and offer him my ass. He takes a grateful handful of one cheek and rains down on the other with the straps of the whip. I let out an Ooh! He keeps them coming cause he knows I can take it. Knows I like it. In fact, no man has ever not smacked my ass at some point during the sexual process. After I have been sufficiently flogged and vibrated, and I am melting with serotonin he decides I have had enough. He puts the vibrator and whip to the side, and asks if I want water.

I say yes, but my wrists are still bound. I lift them so he can see how helpless I am due to his handiwork. He gently explains to me how he will hold the glass and at what angle he will tilt it up to my mouth. I need to keep eye contact with him while I am drinking to let him know when I have had enough and I am ready for him to take it away from my lips. We go through the choreography, each a willing artist, eager for what we are creating. He puts the glass down, pulls the leash in as he re-wraps it around his fist, and kisses me profoundly. His lips are fully pressed to mine like he is breathing me in. MY pussy is still vibrating. I am your willing slave, Master. Do with me as thou wilt. 

He frees my wrists and lays me down on the bed. Then he connects the restraints to the bed posts and my ankles. He is communicating with me the whole time, how I must move my leg, what he is doing. Then he pulls out the nylon rope and commands me to put my hands above my head. I obey. He leaves on my outfit but opens the whole in the stockings so they are practically falling away. I am sighing the entire time, loving the feeling of someone else being in control. Especially this someone else who knows my body like he knows his own. Every little thing he does is sending me into oblivion, so by the time I am tied and bound to the headboard, with my legs out and strapped to each bed post, and he is crawling over me ready to enter me, I am practically crying. But a good crying. That kind like I can’t wait another minute for my favorite thing in the entire world. 

Underneath him, unable to move, as he enters me, I feel free as air. We take off through the universe like we always do. No time, no space, no energy can keep us from this. With H it is always a sacred experience. And as he unties and rearranges me over and over again, it is like we are praying. Praying as we bend and commune our bodies. Praising God as he moves me under his will. Bringing him between us as I endlessly orgasm. He finally has his orgasm, as he is on top of me commanding me to make him come. My pussy grabs on him tight and my back arches as he, ike a rocket shooting through a wormhole, finally climaxes.

He spends the night, a rare occurrence, and we go at it again in the morning. Then we have tea at the table and talk about all that has passed in the last six months. Our communication is clear, just like last night. Sure he hurt me with an unexplained break-off, but at least he has been consistently honest with me. That is not as much as I can say for the men who came after him. I energetically let him go as he leaves my door. Good-bye we say, not See You, not Later, but Good-bye. I wonder if it is in fact the last time I will see him. But history tells me he will be back again.

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