He blindfolded me and used my body like it was his to own [F24/M40] [Bondage] [Use] [Degradation] [Control]

He told me to kneel on the bed, ass up, arms behind my back. I felt the blindfold slide over my eyes, the pressure of rope circling my wrists—tight, unforgiving. Then nothing. Just silence, air, and the sound of my own breathing.

I didn’t know where he was in the room. Didn’t know if he was watching or standing right behind me. I only knew one thing: I was exposed. Waiting. Open.

He made me wait for so long that I started to tremble, every nerve buzzing from anticipation. My body betrayed me first—dripping, aching, twitching like it knew what was coming.

And then finally… touch.

His hand slid between my thighs, slow and heavy. No tenderness. Just ownership. Like he was checking the temperature of something he’d left simmering all day.

“You’re soaked already,” he said, voice low, amused. “Good girl.”

I whimpered. He slapped my ass hard enough to make me jolt.

“Did I *say* you could make noise?”

I shook my head, breath caught in my throat.

“Didn’t think so.”

He reached under me and grabbed a handful of my tits, squeezing like he was testing how much I could take. My body rocked with the force. Then he pushed two fingers inside me—slow, firm, without asking. I gasped against the sheets.

“You’re not here to feel good,” he whispered in my ear. “You’re here to be used.”

His fingers curled and my knees buckled.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

Another slap. This time on my pussy.

“You’re not *feeling* anything. You’re letting me *take*.”

He kept working my cunt until I was moaning into the mattress, hips grinding back against his hand like a desperate toy. I didn’t even notice when he pulled away.

Not until I felt the head of his cock slide along my slit.

He didn’t thrust—not yet. He just teased me with it, dragging the tip through my slick folds again and again while I panted and begged under my breath.

Finally, he pushed in. One long, brutal stroke.

My eyes rolled under the blindfold. I cried out. The stretch, the heat, the weight of him inside me—too much and still not enough.

He fucked me slow at first. Deep. Letting every inch claim me.

“This is what you’re good for,” he growled. “Tight little holes to fill and fuck until you break.”

I felt myself clench, humiliated and turned on beyond reason.

“You’re gonna cum,” he said. “But not yet.”

He reached under me, found my clit, and rubbed circles that made me squirm like I was possessed. My moans were high, broken, needy. My whole body begged to fall apart.

He pressed harder. Fucked deeper. Pounded into me with no mercy, making me feel every bit like the wrecked, ruined little slut I was becoming.

“Now,” he said. “Cum for me. Let me *hear* you.”

I shattered.

The orgasm tore through me like a scream, loud and raw and ugly. I felt my body shake, legs trembling, face wet with drool and sweat and something like tears.

He didn’t stop.

He grabbed my hair, yanked my head back, and fucked me harder.

“You think that was it?” he laughed. “You’re tied up. You’re mine until I say we’re done.”

And in that moment, used, sore, blindfolded, and wrecked—I wanted nothing more.