​I hadn't moved in all that long ago. The one-bedroom apartment was perfect for me, but the landlord had left a few things behind. Mostly, there was this forgotten suitcase, a black leather bag, visibly stuffed to the brim. It was tucked away in a cabinet in the laundry room. I just left it there; I didn't want to look inside, it wasn't my business.

​But Naya had other plans. She couldn't help herself. Ever since I moved in, she had practically taken over the place, not to mention the right side of my bed. She was already acting like she owned the joint, nagging me about dishes in the sink and wet towels.

​As for the bag, I texted the landlord about it. She said she didn't remember any suitcase and that it probably belonged to the previous tenant, an ex she loathed and didn't keep in touch with. One day, dying of curiosity, Naya couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the bag and hauled it into the living room.

​"Do you really want to open that?" I asked.

​"Duh, yeah. What if there's a voodoo doll in here, or like, a body part some killer forgot to get rid of?"

​She laid the suitcase flat on the coffee table, unzipped it, and opened it agonizingly slow.

​"Oh my God!"

​"What? What's in there?"

​"You are not going to believe this," she said, giving me this mischievous, wicked look.

​"Just open it already!"

​Instead of opening it all the way, she just stared at me, teasing. Impatient, I walked over, grabbed the bag, and dumped everything out onto the table.

​"What the hell is this?"

​She lost it, cracking up and sinking into the couch, holding her stomach from laughing so hard.

​The landlord had mentioned once that the guy who lived here before had some "eccentric habits" and that neighbors used to hear moans, slaps, and whips cracking through the apartment walls. She hadn't wanted to get into details back then, but now, it all clicked. That bag was filled with whips of every size and kind, ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds... you name it.

​I thought it was completely gross. Naya, on the other hand, had a very different impression.

She was looking at all of it with the eyes of a child on Christmas morning. She picked up a few of the whips, examined them, sniffed the leather, and laughed, clearly picturing some twisted scenario that only she and God, or the devil, knew about.

​"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

​But as I watched her, my mind started putting the pieces together. That rope right there? It was perfect for tying my little angel to the headboard. Or better yet... to the heavy-duty bike hooks anchored into the living room wall. Suddenly, those damn hooks made total sense. Just imagining her pinned there, hands bound to the wall, her ass completely exposed for me to do whatever I wanted, my dick instantly woke up.

​She picked up one of the floggers, a thick handle with a bunch of leather tails dangling from it.

​"I wonder if it hurts?" she mused to herself, and before I could blink, she flicked it right against my thigh to test it out.

​"Ow, fuck! Are you crazy?"

​To be honest, I was more startled than hurt. She hadn't swung it that hard, and you could tell that particular one was more of a toy than a real weapon. The whole collection seemed to range from lightweight stuff that wouldn't hurt a fly to the deeply sadistic side, like one that was literally a steel cable barely coated in a thin layer of plastic.

But my reaction only fueled her inner child. She went wild, flicking the flogger at me over and over, laughing hysterically at my face.

​"Hey! Woah! Back off!"

​I snatched a pair of handcuffs from the bag, grabbed the handle of the whip she was swinging, and yanked it toward me until her wrist was close enough for me to slap the cuff on.

​"Oh my God!" she gasped, trying to pull away as I reached for her other arm.

​It wasn't hard to pin her down. Cuffing her was actually way easier than I expected.

​"Alright, let's see now. I think I'm gonna take this... and this one too," I said, holding her down while reaching for a whip and a length of rope.

​"No, Mark, no! You are NOT doing this!" she cried, actually starting to tremble.

​"What? Isn't this what you wanted?"

​"No! I don't trust you! You're gonna tie me up and next thing I know, you're gonna go at my ass completely dry, you pervert. Let me go! Let me go right now or I'm gonna scream!"

​"Come on, I would never do that."

​"I KNOW YOU! WHEN YOU CLOSE YOUR EYES, NOTHING STOPS YOU UNTIL YOU CUM! NOW UNCHAIN ME RIGHT ALREADY!!"

​"Fine, fine! Geez. Talk about a buzzkill."

Before she could make an even bigger scene and cause some neighbor to knock on the door or call the cops, I let her go. She spun around, rubbing her wrists to check for bruises, glaring at me with pure hatred.

​"Fine, I guess I'd better just throw all this shit away then," I said.

​"No! Why would you do that?"

​"Well, you don't want to play, and we need the space, so..."

​"Who said I don't want to play? I just don't want you tying me up and whipping me with those ogre arms of yours." As she spoke, she subconsciously touched her crotch over her panties, which were already soaking wet. She was just wearing panties and one of those cropped tees that showed off her stomach.

​"You little slut," I muttered after taking a deep breath.

​A few minutes later, there I was, lying flat on the bed, watching her cuff my right hand to the headboard before walking around to the other side to secure the left. On one hand, I found it kind of funny, because obviously, if I didn't want to be there, she could never make it happen. But on the other hand, once I was locked in, getting out of there was going to be a hell of a chore if she decided she didn't want to let me go.

Not satisfied with just tying me down, she went ahead and blindfolded me too. Now, everything was down to touch. I felt the mattress shift as she stood up on the bed and reached for something in the bag. A moment later, I felt a few lashes, it was probably that toy flogger with the leather tails. Then she went back for something else, coming to a stop right by my side. Blind as I was, it took me a second to realize what she was up to. There were candles in that suitcase, and the little devil was dripping hot wax right onto my chest.

​"Ow! You wicked girl!"

​I could only track her movements by the way the mattress sank under her feet. My dick was rock hard, and I could feel every single touch, the light whips, all of it. Nothing actually hurt, but there was a completely different sensation washing over me. It’s hard to explain, but it was basically this: I had always felt responsible for what did or didn't happen during sex. Like I was the one in charge of delivering pleasure, since I usually had more mobility and controlled the room.

​But pinned down like that? I couldn't contribute much of anything. It was entirely up to her to chase her own pleasure and mine. Tied up, my hands were forced. And oddly enough, it felt like a massive weight had suddenly been lifted off my shoulders. All I had to do now was feel.

​On the flip side, I couldn't completely shake the anxiety of what that crazy girl might do next, she had total freedom to do whatever she wanted in that position. But she didn't cross any lines.

After torturing me for a bit, I felt her feet sink into the mattress on either side of my head, and a second later, her wet heat was pressed right against my mouth. She rubbed herself all over my face, rocking her body back and forth. Her pubic hair, shaved completely stubby, felt like sandpaper against my skin. But right in the center, everything was soft and slick. Still, she wasn't as dripping wet as I’d felt her so many times before. The frantic way she was moving gave me the impression she was chasing a climax she couldn't quite catch. While my mouth was occupied, I felt her hand grip my dick, squeezing it with a desperate tightness that made me think she might actually snap the poor thing.

​Then she stood up and came down on my dick with a violent, hard slam. Without my hands there to guide her, she rode me fast, pushing until she tired herself out and shifted to just grinding her clit back and forth against my stomach. Right after that, I felt her unlocking the cuffs from my hands.

​"Wait, what? It's over already?"

​She pulled off my blindfold too.

​"Just fuck me, come on!"

​Without a second thought, she rolled over onto her back, waiting for me to get on top of her. I did, but before sliding in, I asked, "You didn't like it?"

​"I did, but... well... it felt like I was riding a doll, you know? I need you to grab me."

​So I lifted her legs and drove into her. She got soaking wet almost instantly, and her nipples hardened. I knew this was the moment. While she was utterly lost in the pleasure, I took her hand and guided it over to the rope. I tied down one of her wrists. She looked up at me, her face a raw mix of pleasure and fear. It was a 'yes' and a 'no' at the same time. But she didn't try to stop me. So I took her other hand and tied it down too.

Hidden by the headboard were two hooks that, until now, I had no idea why they were there. But now, it all made perfect sense. I blindfolded her and got up from the bed to grab another length of rope. When I pulled it, some of the other toys clattered together, making a loud noise. Naya flinched, pulling at her wrists and letting out a startled whimper. She couldn't see what I was doing. When I grabbed one of her feet, she jumped in surprise. I tied one ankle, then the other with the rope. She didn't say a word; she just moaned.

​Then, I lifted her legs until the rope reached the hooks and secured them. Now she was suspended by her feet, one on each side of her head. Her pussy was completely exposed, dripping like a honeycomb. I buried my face in it, and she gasped in surprise.

​"Oh, ah, ahh!"

​I licked every single inch of that sweet heat, listening to her moan, until finally...

​"Fuck meeee! Before I go crazyyy!!"

​"That is not how you speak to your master!" I growled, grabbing the flogger she had left behind and striking her thigh. She flinched, letting out another sharp, startled gasp.

​"Please, master! Just fuck my pussy! Pleaaase!"

​"Slut," I muttered, dragging the leather tails of the whip over her dripping slit. She writhed against the mattress, completely consumed by lust.

​"Drive it in, pleaaase!"

​My dick was so rock hard and leaking pre-cum that I was genuinely worried I’d blow my load on the very first thrust. Before sliding inside, I slapped my shaft against her wet pussy, splashing her juices with every strike. And then, I buried it all the way in, all at once. She seemed completely lost to the world, moaning at the top of her lungs, without a single thought for the neighbors.

​I thought I was going to blow my load right away, but the paranoia about the neighbors bought me some time. I had to clamp my hand over her mouth. Right then and there, I finally understood why people use those red ball gags.

​I kept pounding into her, plef, plef, plef, plef, plef. The sound was exactly like slapping wet hands together. When I finally came, I let out a loud groan myself, completely forgetting about the neighbors.