Then I follow Bella upstairs, already unbuttoning my shirt on the way up.
The socks follow, but I keep my jeans on. Not my first choice of playtime clothes, but I don't want to keep her waiting when she's done showering.
While I snatch up all the utensils from the playroom and deposit them on the floor in the kitchen I try to remember what exactly we agreed on when we were planning this scene together. As I don't think anything I want to do will trigger real unease or even fear I decide to wing it, probably not the best idea, but the only one I can come up with on such short notice.
After all, there are just two things I want to achieve. One, for her to burn off most of the frustration causing all those frowns and worried looks she thinks I never notice. Two, for me to finally get it into my head that I am someone who can be trusted. Bella's always been my salvation, somehow it's fitting that I let her prove that to me tonight.
A quick check of my watch tells me that she has two more minutes. After picking up the blindfold I lean against the hallway wall next to the bedroom door, listening to a series of bumps and low curses coming from inside where Bella seems to be fighting with the bath towel. Grinning, I once again marvel at my own luck of ending up with a wonderful woman like her. I really shouldn't need this for myself, this proof of my trustworthiness, she's done nothing to make me doubt myself ever. In fact she's been happy enough letting me escalate things on a regular basis, never hesitating, never using her safeword when things went beyond what she probably expected. It just took me this long to realize how things have been between us all the time.
The sound of partly dry feet on the floor beckons me out of my musing, and before Bella has moved further than two steps out of the room I'm behind her, drawing her to a halt as I pull the blindfold over her head. It's a padded leather blindfold, held in place with elastic strings, not much larger than a sleeping mask but cutting out all the light. Her breath hitches as her world goes dark, but after several seconds she visibly relaxes, letting me take control.
I leave her standing there for several seconds, close enough that she probably feels the heat of my body at her back, but not touching her. Water still glistens on her skin where she's been too hurried or impatient to properly dry herself, causing strands of hair to stick to her shoulder and upper back.
"Right on time, my beautiful Bella," I finally acknowledge her, lightly wrapping my hands around her upper arms. She doesn't respond but I feel her ease into my grip, her skin slightly cooler than mine.
"Do you still remember what we were talking about a while ago?"
She cocks her head, then nods. "The sensory deprivation scene, Sir?"
"Exactly that," I agree, then plant the lightest of kisses on her bare shoulder, only to be rewarded with another shudder.
"I need you to trust me tonight," I venture on, underscoring my words with a second kiss just next to the first one. "I need you not to second-guess me.
You submit to me, without question." Another kiss, this one closer to her neck. "I'm in control, and I can do whatever I want with you."
By the end of my little speech her whole body seems to vibrate, and she has to swallow twice before she can bring out a husky, "Yes, Sir," that makes my cock twitch.
"Any questions?"
"No, Sir."
I'm glad she doesn't hesitate, but she still stiffens when I let go of her and push the blue plastic ball of the gag into her mouth. Bella's hands twist as if she wants to reach up to her face, but then she relaxes again, not protesting when I fix the straps behind her head. I make sure that the leather doesn't bite into the skin of her cheek but sits snugly enough that she cannot easily press the ball out between her teeth. A light frown has taken residence on her forehead, but with the blindfold in place, I can't really tell if she's annoyed or just slightly apprehensive.
Once I'm done I step behind her again and take hold of her arms, then push her into motion in front of me. I let her take slow but sure steps, stopping when we reach the top of the stairs. Only when I start leading her down into the living room does she stiffen a bit, but I think it's excitement now rather than fear. Downstairs I let go of her and she stops, and only resumes walking after I slide my fingers against hers and take her hand to tug her along into the kitchen part of the room.
A delightfully huffy squeal leaves her when I pick her up and set her down on the island, but she doesn't even fidget and remains sitting there with her back straight and her tits delightfully right in front of my face. A multitude of things run through my mind that I would love to do to her now, but I'm simply not in the mood for a quick fuck.
Instead I bend down and pick something up from the floor, painting a new frown on her forehead when I place the fingers of her right hand around the rubber ball. Closing my fist further around hers I show her how much to squeeze the toy, until it emits a squeaking noise.
"If you feel like anything is amiss, you need to tell me. Speaking obvious won't work, and I intend to make you grunt and moan so much that I can't really rely on that for a signal. But the second you squeeze the ball I will stop what I do and check on you. Understood?"
Bella nods and compresses her fist, making the toy squeak loudly. Even with the gag I can see the grin on her face, and quickly punish her mirth by leaning in and biting the sweet spot on the side of her neck. I get rewarded with a low moan that goes straight to my cock and decide that I definitely want to hear this sound many times more until I'm done with her tonight.
Her playful mood evens out into relaxed passiveness when I push her down onto the cool marble slab, then push her around until I have her exactly the way I want her – her ass flush with the long side of the island, legs spread and bent right now, and her arms extended. I even fetch one of the pillows from the couch to put under her head – tonight I want her calm and relaxed, something I normally don't go for when I tie her up.
The only flaw in her position is that she can still move, obviously, but that is fixed quickly with a few yards of soft, black rope. I don't think the handles of the drawers and the rail to put the dishtowels up for drying were meant for this exact purpose, but they work really well for me. It only takes me a few minutes to restrain her ankles and wrists to the corners of the island, and add a few more bonds to her arms and legs above and below her joints to make sure that she's properly immobilized.
Once I'm done I step back and admire my work, feeling my cock grow hard in my jeans. The way she's tied down is a delicious compromise between practicality and eye candy, the contrast of the black ropes over her ivory skin atop the charcoal marble nearly a piece of art. Her slightly bent legs beckon to be touched but I hold myself back, instead letting the visual impact do its own thing to my body. I know it's about the same for her, only with the physical feedback from the contrasting signals her skin picks up from the hard, unyielding stone she's lying on and the multitude of pressure points the ropes paint all over her limbs. The fact that she can't see anything and the gag only adds to her feeling of helplessness very likely amplifies the experience tenfold.
After a while she flexes her free hand and tries to test the bonds, but there is no slack to the ropes, even though they hold her in a position that leaves next to no strain on her muscles. With her ankles and wrists slightly twisted there's also no chance for leverage for her shoulders or hips, and when she realizes that she huffs with slight annoyance. She's completely at my mercy, and I'm going to make sure that she'll love every second of it.
Unwilling to wait any longer I step up to the island between her spread legs and lean over her, careful not to touch her. My breath whafting over her body sends shivers through her, and she eagerly turns her face to where she presumes mine to be.
"I can do anything I want to do to you," I repeat my earlier words, speaking slow and in a low tone that I know she finds sexy. "I can touch you anywhere I want," I continue, while I slowly trace the curve of her collarbone with my index finger. "Here, or here," my finger trails down the valley between her breasts, deviating for a moment so I can squeeze her left tit softly. I feel her arch into my palm, or try to, but within a moment the ropes are all taught and she has to accept defeat when I let go of her again. My finger continues its journey from her breastbone down the soft skin of her stomach, but I stop short of her pussy, instead trailing a line over her hip and to the ropes that bind her left leg. "Or here."
Bella mewls plaintively and I can see the muscles in her thighs flex as she tries to move her hips, but as with her arms there is not enough give for more than a light jerk towards me. I grin, then lean down and blow air over her pussy lips, making her squeal into the gag.
"You see," I continue as I straighten again until my face is right above hers,
"I can take my time exploring your body. Minutes, even hours, and there's nothing you can do about it." While I speak I let my palms roam over her ribs but stay shy of her breasts, close enough to hint but far enough away to tease her. "Of course I could just grab you and fuck you hard," - that while I briefly grind my jeans covered cock against her pussy until she moans loudly, before I pull away - "but where's the fun in that? No, tonight I'll take it real slow."
It's good that she can't see my face because the frown on her forehead makes me grin, and I have to work hard to keep that out of my voice. I'm pretty sure that she has been hoping for some quick, passionate sex, but I'm in no mood to oblige the first part of that wish. The second, we'll see about.