Sometimes things get a little (!) funky and you decide to try something just… fun and goofy and odd. Today is one of those.
You tell me to get undressed, uncaged, and present myself…. you mumble something about “for wrapping” or something – I can’t really make it out and I sense that that’s on purpose.
When I come back, you have all the wrapping paper out, ribbons and the like. You tell me the rules. I have to hold still enough that you can wrap me and the wrapping paper remains in place. You’re going to wrap me from head to toe. If I can keep the wrapping paper from ripping or coming off in any way, you’ll tease me and allow an orgasm. As soon as the paper rips or comes off though (and you will make every effort to attach it appropriately), it all stops. If I cum without permission, there will be significant penalties.
You start with ribbon, of course. You tie a big bow around the base of my cock, pulling it rather snug, to “keep it in place.” I’d object, but my body is already betraying me, so I don’t even bother. You grin as you look at your handiwork, primping the bow.
You then proceed to wrap me, starting at my head – putting the wrapping paper around my head, my face, my neck, down to my shoulders. It’s sort of like having to wrap a shovel, I imagine. It’s not the prettiest wrapping job, but judging from the intermittent laughs, it’s fun at least. When you get done with my head and shoulders, I think I may actually be able to pull this off. I seem to be able to hold still enough that the wrapping paper won’t stress too much.
Then you start stroking. My natural instinct is to bend over a bit to keep control, but that ain’t happening. I’m standing perfectly still. I realize too that you have no visual feedback from my face now – so this could get really interesting, really quickly. And it is… to say the least. I can feel that feeling growing inside already. It’s almost like I’m pressing out against that ribbon tied around, trying to get past it.
And you stop…
And resume wrapping. You are on my shoulders now. “That was the easy part. Now you will get less and less freedom and more and more difficulty not tearing or getting things to release.”
As you put the wrapping paper around my shoulders, you carefully attach it, make it snug and tighten it down. There’s a lot of tape and it’s surprising how constricting wrapping paper can actually be. But I also sense how fragile it is. It’s like this weird split between wanting to hold me in place, but at the same time ready to tear at a single wrong move.
You have me wrapped to my waist now. Things feel tight, and loose all at the same time. It also feels perilously fragile… and then you start with the stroking again. It’s that first one that almost trips me up – I can’t see it coming, I can’t tell, and the sensations sweep through me as you do… and then I feel your mouth on me, the warmth, I almost lose it right there, but some bell rings in my head – kind of like a boxing match bell… and I keep my wits about me.
You stop, and all I hear is “I’m impressed!” You can’t see me, but I’m smiling, like I’ve just pulled of some monumental accomplishment for you.
I feel you putting wrapping paper around my waist now and moving down to my legs. You make a point of making sure you leave access (thankfully) and attach the wrapping paper as tightly as possible. I feel like this is the plan – tight wrapping paper will release or tear more easily.
After a single leg, without even a pause you start stroking again – You’re willing me to tear the wrapping paper, to lose to the challenge, but I’m determined to beat it. I can feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge – I realize your only real indication is my breathing, but I also have to control my breathing because I’m terrified even that will blow through the wrapping paper covering my head. I quickly realize that the chance of me losing control and ending this with a punishment is increasing at a rapid rate.
I’m doing everything I can to keep from spinning over the edge, out of control. My body is fighting to buckle, to bend, to move, to ask you to stop, to even just turn my head in response to the feelings. Just as I’m positive I’m going to lose it, and lose out, you stop. My body almost does a reverse one a half gainer off the board as all sensations blow through me and stop. I am fixated on not moving.
I can feel myself getting a little back in control and you start again. You say something about having to finish the other leg soon…. and then I feel your mouth on me again, but this time, you’re moving at a snail’s pace – so slow it’s maddening. I feel every centimeter of you slowly engulfing me, taking me in. I fear about I’m about to lose and you sense this somehow but only pull back and then keep going with your hand…. and then stop.
Again, this rush of a void of sensations flows through me like a tidal wave and I fight to keep it together.
I have it all in hand, and I’m hoping you will do the other leg now with the remaining wrapping paper – but just as you start and I relax a little, I lower my shoulders just a bit to regain my control and composure. Somehow, it’s enough.
The faintest of tears – that’s what I hear. Above everything else. Above all of the wrapping paper noises.
And you stop. “Hmmmm…. what was that? I think I heard a tear!”
I sense you walking around behind me and sure enough, right at my shoulders… there it is.
“Aw, that’s too bad. I guess we’ll have to stop now. It was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”
I can feel my body give in and relax a little, at the same time, I’m visualizing my internal reaction as one of pounding on the desk, frustrated.