Paloma's Night in Bonds

Paloma wakes up in almost complete darkness. Dazed from sleep, she opens her eyes and looks around. A warm breeze caresses her skin. She sees a bed, a linen sheet covering her body, a slightly open window, a closed door, and suddenly she realises that she does not know this room. 'This is not my home, where am I?' Fear flashes through her mind and makes her jump up with a jolt. But her body is suddenly held back and she feels a sharp pain at her left wrist. She looks around and sees her hand, firmly clasped in a metal bracelet. She sees a large bed with metal bars at both ends, and the cuffs at her wrist chained to the bars of the bed.

Cold sweat runs down her body. She shakes the chain, feeling the cold metal on her body. She frees herself from the sheet covering her. She notices the nightdress she is wearing. It is sleeveless, made of thin white fabric and reaches to her tight, but she does not perceives its beauty. She does not recognise this nightdress, she cannot remember putting it on. 'This cannot happen to me, is this a bad dream?' Her heart is beating faster, she twists and shakes the chain, which hits the metal bars pf the bed with a deafening noise, tries to free herself with her unchained hand, without success. A deep scream of rage and despair escapes her, and again and again she tries to free herself from the chain, until she falls asleep from exhaustion, bathed in sweat.

The prince enters the room while Paloma is sleeping. The bed and sheets are crumpled from her movements, her nightgown has wrinkles, her chained wrist is reddened. The prince opens the window blinds a little so that the light of the moon falls on Paloma's face. He sits down on the bed next to her, watching her sleep and her chest moving calmly and rhythmically. Carefully, he strikes his hand through her hair and face. She breathes deeply, as if she could feel the touch in her sleep. After some time, the prince stands up and takes a black cloth out of his pocket, a cloth made of fine and soft velvet. He carefully places it over Paloma's closed eyes, then gently lifts her head, pulls the cloth over the back of her head and ties it to a band with a firm knot. He pulls out of his pocket a handcuff, also made of black velvet, which he carefully ties around her right wrist. He is very cautious not to wake her up. The handcuff has a ring through which he pulls a rope, which he then attaches to the bed's metal bars behind her head. He takes a step back and observes his work. Paloma continues to sleep, in her white nightgown and now with a black cloth tightly covering her eyes and both arms pulled upwards to the sides next to her head, closely tied to the bed, one with the soft fabric of black velvet, the other with cold and hard steel.

After looking at her silently for a few minutes, he bends down and kisses her tenderly on the lips. A first kiss is followed by a second, then another, each one more intense than the previous one, and his hands begin to caress Paloma's body. Suddenly she is startled out of her sleep, a scream, a fright as she senses the presence of a person over her body. A feeling of anger, fear and helplessness rises in her as she notices the bonds on her other arm. 'Who are you, where am I, let me go', she screams at him. Her body twists in an attempt to free herself.

He does not answer her, instead he silently observes her face, red and wet from the effort and the tears that are running from under the cloth over her eyes, her body that trembles from the effort, her breast moving with her heavy breathing. 'Don't you remember me and don't you remember yesterday?', the prince asks Paloma after a few minutes. Her screaming stops when she hears his voice. Fragments of memory appear, memories of a voice, of food and drink, of laughter and music. But the fragments are scattered, incomplete. She remains silent as she continues to breathe heavily and tears flow from her eyes.

The prince looks at her, and he wipes the tears from her face. 'You came to me and visited me of your own free will. We ate and drank together. We danced and laughed. You offered yourself to me out of love and desire to discover the unknown. I asked you if you had faith in me and were prepared to accept everything I would give you out of love. If you were ready to surrender yourself completely for one night, without limits, willingly and sacrificially. I adverted you that your decision was final and could not be reversed, that I would not accept a change of your mind. Not even if you beg and cry and scream for mercy. That after this night of you under my control, I will be ready to put my life and my love in your hands, forever. You said yes. So here you are.'

Paloma is irritated and confused. More and more fragments of her memories are awakening. But she is not willing to give herself up, to give away control of her life, even if just for one night. She has never offered her intimacy and the purity of her soul and body to any other person. Her anger rises once more, and she starts screaming and pulling at her bonds again. The prince continues to sit by her side and watches her. 'It is useless', he replies calmly, 'no one will hear you, and you made your decision yesterday'.

He climbs onto the bed, kneels above her, her legs firmly between his. He places the palms of his hands on her knees and begins to slowly stroke her thighs. Paloma can hardly move now, her hands bound to the bed and her legs under his. His hands on her skin intensify her feelings of anger and helplessness. But they also awaken memories of the previous evening, of the feel of skin gliding over her own skin, and these memories are filled with pleasure rather than fear. The prince continues to caress her skin, under the fabric of her nightdress, over her hips, and suddenly Paloma realises that she is not wearing any other clothing besides this nightdress.

'You do not have to be afraid, I will not harm you', says the prince. 'Remember my earlier words, tonight you belong to me and from tomorrow I am yours for the rest of our lives.' Paloma continues to breathe heavily and her thoughts are full of tension and excitement, but she feels how slowly the anger turns into a feeling of expectation and arousal. She still cannot entirely remember the previous evening, but the fragments that come to her mind reassure her. 'Who are you?' she asks.

'I am what you see in me,' the prince replies. 'I am the product of your desires and fantasies. Tonight, it is not important who I am.' He pulls a small key out of his pocket, bends over her and unlocks the metal handcuffs on her left wrist. At the moment of her relief at finally being freed, his face moves towards her ear and he whispers: 'No, I know what you think and what you believe that you want, but tonight you will remain bound to this bed.' He rises from her body, over which he has been kneeling the whole time, and stands beside her. The seam of her nightdress has ridden up with his touch, and Paloma begins to pull the seam back down with the one now freed hand. 'No', he commands her in a loud voice, and Paloma flinches with fright. 'That your one hand is freed does not mean that your will is free this night.'

Again she is overcome by thoughts of fear and insecurity, which mix with those of excitement, and once more Paloma is unsettled and confused. The prince caresses her face, shoulders, arms, nightgown, and then he gently lifts her body and turns it so that she is now lying on her stomach, her face pressed into the pillow. He takes both of her arms and lays them beside her head, with a long and firm grip, without words, but she understands the sign not to move her one arm that has been unchained. The instinct to fight and defend herself flashes through her mind, but the tenderness of his hand over her skin calms her fear and anger. The prince lifts his hands from her arms, and she remains quiet, her thoughts confused but full of excitement and expectation.

For several minutes, which seem like an eternity to Paloma, the prince stands beside her, silently, watching her, and running just one finger over her neck and shoulders. Then, without saying a word, he grabs the seam of her nightdress and pushes it up to her hips. Her bottom is now exposed, and her instinct is to defend herself again, but she remains calm. He leans down and kisses the cheeks of her bottom tenderly, on both sides, his tongue runs over her skin. A memory fragment shoots through her mind, and she now notices the scent of the perfume that is wafting around her. A bath, hands that clean her carefully, a perfume. She relaxes more and more, now anticipating his next move, and she feels her body, her breasts, her intimate parts, reacting to the excitement that is beginning to build within her. Fear and anger fade away.

Suddenly, without warning, she feels a strong slap across her bottom. Pain, a scream. Another slap, and another. She moves her body to turn around, she tries to hold with her free arm the hand that is hitting her, she screams, kicks, tries to free herself. The prince grabs her hand with a firm grip, grabs her body and gets back on top of her body, his strength and size making it impossible for her to move. Once more she is lying on her stomach, her legs are firmly enclosed by his, and her free hand is in his grip.

Again and again he spanks her bottom, without words, unimpressed by her screams, her attempts to free herself, her tears that wet the pillow. Instinctively, she counts the spanks, but she loses count as he beats her again and again, sometimes harder, sometimes more gently. She feels her skin burning, the cheeks of her bottom have turned red. The prince pauses, gets up, and Paloma immediately turns around to protect herself from further beatings. Again she feels his hands, how they bring her body into position with a firm grip, again she kicks and struggles and strikes out until she suddenly feels his breath on her ear and he whispers: I promised, I will not harm you. Do you want me to stop, for now?'

'Yes, please.' Her voice is shivering. She feels one more slap, harder than any of the previous, she yells. She ia afraid of more spanks hurting her, but his hand remains quiet. Her heart beats fast in anxiety of what will happen to her. Then she senses a cold liquid on her reddened bottom, and the prince's hands, with which he carefully spreads the liquid over her body. She smells a pleasant scent and feels how the oil soothes the burning on her skin. The prince applies more drops of oil to her body and gently spreads them.

Paloma relaxes once more and follows the movements of his hand. From the surface of the bottom to her back, to the legs, up again, a finger in the space between the two cheeks of her bottom, and then the prince spreads her legs apart and lets his finger slide down to her intimate parts. Paloma starts to moan. She enjoys his hand rubbing her skin and she feels the excitement building up. With each movement of his hand the prince feels the moisture of her body's fluids, rhythmic movements of her chest, her heavy breathing. He stops and observes her.

She has abandoned herself to him now, her instincts of self defence have been defeated by the desire to feel the prince's hands over her body. She is thrusting for more while he is quietly observing her. 'Talk to me, why don't you talk to me, who are you and what do you want from me?' she asks with a desperate voice. The prince remains silent. He looks at her naked body and then moves his face into the crack between her legs and strokes his tongue over her labia. She shivers with the first touch. Softly at first does the prince move his tongue, then harder. Her arousal increases and instinctively she opens her legs further to give him more room. She moans, in rhythm with his movements.

He lets go of her. He still does not say a word. Instead, he grabs her body and moves her onto her back. No more tears flow from her eyes, but he sees the tips of her breasts wanting to pierce the fabric of her dress. His hands now slide under the fabric over her skin, making her back bend with excitement. He strokes over her breasts and her nipples, squeezing them between his fingers so that she cries out in pain again. He stops and stands up. Paloma feels his eyes on her. Her firm breasts shine and push through her nightdress, a testimony of the arousal within her that she can no longer conceal. The fabric only just covers her breasts; her intimate body parts are unprotected from his gaze.

Instinctively, Paloma presses her legs together and tries to pull down the hem of the dress with her free hand again. The prince immediately grabs her hand and, with his other hand, he takes hold of the inside of her thighs and pushes them apart. Paloma knows that the most intimate parts of her body are fully exposed to his eyes. He pulls her hand down and begins to stroke two fingers of her hand over her labia, over her clitoris, in slow and circular movements. Paloba is shocked by the moisture she feels, she is ashamed that her body cannot hide her arousal. He moves her fingers faster, her breathing becomes more intense, moisture covers her fingers. Instinctively she spreads her legs wider.

He stops and guides her hand to her open mouth, and her tongue tastes the aroma of her body. He lets go of her hand and before Paloma can ask herself what is happening, he rips her nightdress with a firm movement and pushes the fabric to the side. He tears the straps, pulls the fabric under her body towards him and throws it to the floor. Her body is now completely exposed. Only a black cloth covers her eyes and her right wrist, which is still tied to the bed. She cannot see the prince, but she can sense his eyes silently gliding over her naked body. Suddenly she feels his breath on her side. A brief pain, a bite on her earlobe, a kiss on her cheek.

Again, the excitement rises in her body, her breathing becomes more violent. His mouth moves over her face, presses against her mouth, and she returns the kiss passionately. Their two tongues play and dance with each other, and Paloma knows that she has now given up all resistance and is ready to surrender to him completely. She grabs his neck and presses his mouth as hard against hers as possible. The prince releases her mouth and his lips continue to travel down her body. Over her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders. She savours the scent of his body and the feel of his lips on her skin. A deep groan escapes her as his tongue gently caresses the tips of her breasts, which are now large, hard and swollen. A pleasant pain shoots through her as he gently bites her flesh. His hands caress her breasts while his lips continue to move down her body. He reaches the inside of her thighs. He no longer has to push them apart, Paloma has now opened herself up to him as much as she can.

The prince pauses briefly, then guides his tongue slowly to the most intimate part of her body. He absorbs the juices of her body and savours their sweet taste. He feels Paloma moving her hips up and down and pressing her body against his face. He kisses her clitoris, large and erect, and lets his tongue glide over it. He sees how she begins to lose control over her body, she squirms and moves violently, but no longer to free herself from him. Then he suddenly lets go of her again. 'What is happening? Why do you not continue what you started?' she asks him, still breathing heavily. He does not answer her, remains silent, standing next to her and watching her rapidly breathing and squirming body. Full of desperation for relief, she begins to rub her clitoris vigorously with her free hand, with ever faster movements. Her body is now covered in sweat. The prince lets her continue for a moment and when he sees that she is beginning to climax, he grabs her hand and pulls it away. 'Today it is me to decide what you feel and when.' These were his first words in a long time. She is breathing heavily and does not answer.

He puts her arm behind her head and presses her wrist firmly on the bed as a sign that she should not move her hand any further. Paloma understands. She longs for his lips, his tongue, his hands on her body, she longs for release from the arousal that has taken hold of her, but again he stands quietly beside her, without words, only his eyes on her body. She flinches and lets out a slight scream when she feels the cold liquid of perfumed oil on her body again. On her breasts, on her stomach, on her legs.

Followed by the warmth of his hands, which begin to spread the oil over her body in rhythmic movements. He caresses her breasts and the inside of her legs, and she wants nothing more than his hand or his mouth on her sex, but the prince avoids touching the place she craves the most. He presses his lips to hers and kisses her passionately while his hands continue to glide over her body, then finally she feels a finger of his hand enter her sex and move slowly in and out. She moves her hips, pressing against his hand and trying to intensify the feeling to the maximum.

Her body shakes when she feels a second finger inside her. His movements become faster and firmer, deeper he penetrates her while their two lips are pressed firmly together. Her body moves to the rhythm of his hand, her breasts dance as his other hand caresses their tips and areola. Both feel the ecstasy that has taken hold of Paloma's body, her muscles tense, her back arches, she wants to free herself from his kiss to release her feelings with a scream.

The prince releases her lips, removes his hand from her body, and a third time he leaves her in suspense, longing for the climax that he is not willing to concede to her yet. Paloma's body is bathed in sweat, her body writhes, searching for his mouth, his tongue, his breath, his body, desperate for relief. After what seems like an eternity, his lips touch her clitoris. Her body trembles. His tongue glides over the wetness between her legs. His senses are inebriated with the the scent and the flavour of her burning lust as his mouth devours her purity, when finally an explosion flashes through her body, an orgiastic climax, juices from her body shoot over his hand and her legs, a scream as her mouth finally frees itself from his. She slumps down, while spasms of arousal continue to ripple through her body again and again and his hand continues to caress her body.

Palomas body is covered with sweat. Her breathing is fast and heavy. He lets go of her. He takes a towel and cleans her body tenderly. He unties the rope around her wrist. For the first time, Paloma is free. She could defend herself and try to escape, but she does not. She is overcome with a feeling of exhaustion and happiness. Paloma's eyes are still covered, but she sees an image of the prince in her imagination and now she no longer wants to let go of him. She feels him stretch a clean sheet of linen over her body. And she feels the skin of his body next to hers as he lies down beside her. She senses that he is as undressed as she is. Has he been all the time? She does not know. He embraces her and she nestles her body against his.

'The night is not yet over. You will remain bound to me and at my mercy, but you do not need chains any more', he whispers in her ear. These words no longer frighten her. Paloma feels protected and secure in the prince's arms and falls asleep.