You should have known something was up when she asked you to model her latest suit at 2 AM. She never asks you to do that so late at night, but you figured inspiration could strike at any time. The part where she asked you to close your eyes and hold your stretch your arms up was a distinct red flag, but you were too tired to notice. But when the noose ties your wrists together and you feel a ballgag secure itself in your mouth, you figure it out. You open your eyes and you are treated to quite the sight. The corset, the platform boots that reached up to her thighs, and the long gloves going up to her shoulders, all in a glossy black leather that contrast her milky white skin perfectly. A brilliant blue sapphire dangles above her cleavage, her shapely breasts pushed together in fetishwear you only suspected she owned. Delicately, one hand unbuttons your shirt while the other lifts a lit candle. Before you can roll your eyes at how cliched this all is, she tilts the candle and pours a generous dose of the hot wax onto your flesh. She runs her nose along the trail, inhaling deeply and remaking how absolutely exquisite you smell. She repeats the burning exercise as you wiggle and squirm beneath her teasing touch. It honestly doesn't hurt that much, but she loves it when you indulge in her theatrical side. You can feel her fingers undoing your belt buckle. Your arousal immediately jumps out at her, to which she squeals in delight. You brace yourself, knowing what's coming. Teeth tear into rubber as you struggle in legitimate pain. Pounding, pulsing, throbbing. All these feelings running rampant in your body. Then she kisses you, right on the tip, and everything goes white. It all comes rushing out of you, and no amount of restraint can stop you. When you're finished, your vision goes clear again and you realize what you've done. You just made a mess all over her. A chill stabs you through the heart when you see her reaching for a riding crop that you never knew she had.