Mike’s Pet: Meat

I met the cutest guy at the club last Saturday night. His name’s Mike. We really hit it off. Now, I don’t usually go back to a guy’s place when we first meet, but he was really cute, and wouldn’t take my number, saying it’s either now or never. I didn’t want to miss my chance at him.

So I text my friends not to wait up for me and he drives me to his place. It’s a bit out of the way. It’s got one of those really long driveways, where you can’t see the house at the end because of all the trees. It’s very quiet there. Once we get inside though, he fixes this by blasting some music.

“Aren’t your neighbors gonna call the cops on you?”, I shout.

“Nah, I soundproofed the place, and there’s a bunch of trees between me and anyone else. They can’t hear nothin’!”, Mike shouts back.

“Cool!”

I follow him down the hall to his bedroom. He’s got a king size bed on the right, an old weird looking metal chair on the left with a closet behind it, and a dresser on the same wall as the door.

“What’s up with this chair? Looks real uncomfortable!”

“That used to be an electric chair! People were executed sitting on that thing! Doesn’t work anymore though!”

“That’s awesome!”

“Wanna sit in it? I can strap you in! It’ll be fun!”

I hesitate for a moment, noticing the frayed wire sticking out of the back of it, obviously not plugged into anything. “Maybe later!”

We sit on the bed and he leans in for a kiss. Our lips lock and tongues intertwine. Mike wraps his left arm around me and starts massaging my left tit with his right hand. He smells great. Pulling back from the kiss he pulls my shirt right off and expertly unhooks my bra. I tilt my head back as he squeezes and sucks on my tits. He pushes me backward onto the bed and removes his own clothing as I remove the rest of mine, tossing them to the floor. He lies next to me and resumes sucking on my tits. Suddenly I feel his teeth as he bites down on them.

“Hey!”

He smiles back at me, “Just teasing.”

Then I feel his dick entering my pussy. He thrusts and thrusts until we’ve both climaxed, his cum shooting inside me. We gaze into one another’s eyes, having just made passionate love. I break the silence, “That was very good”.

“Yes, it was.”, he smiles back, “You know what would make me really happy right now though?”

“What?”, I ask.

“To see you in that chair. That image would just be so hot to me right now.”

I look back at the chair, and at the frayed wire. There are no usable wires coming off of this thing, but it’s still a bit intimidating. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, the thing’s broken. It hasn’t been powered up since before I got it. The wire’s even completely snapped. Just for a few seconds. Please?” He looks at me with a real sad expression, giving me “puppy dog eyes” as it’s called.

I hesitate a bit, looking back at the chair. “Ok, fine, but don’t strap me in tightly.”

“Of course!”, he smiles a big smile, obviously ecstatic at the idea.

I reach for my panties to start getting dressed first and he interrupts, with a big grin still on his face “No no… I want to see you on it completely naked.”

“Ok.”, I reply as I step in front of the chair and lower my ass onto it. I quickly hop back up. The metal of the chair is just so cold. I lower myself again, this time expecting the cold and sitting down. “How’s this?”

“Good, good…”, as he steps over and loosely fits the leg straps around my ankles. Then he loosely straps in my left wrist. Then my right, but he pulls it really tight.

“Too tight!” I tell him, completely unable to remove my wrist. I hear him laugh as he tightens the strap on my left wrist and finally my ankles. “What the fuck?!”, I yell.

Mike stops for a moment, putting his hand on my chin, looking into my eyes and explaining, “Remember when I mentioned soundproofing my house? What if that wasn’t done for the music?” He smirks and binds the final strap tightly around my neck.

I freeze in fear for a second, but then try to move, to shift my weight, knock the chair over. I scream a few times. But he just laughs and walks behind me where I can’t see him. “It’s bolted into the floor.” I hear the squeak of a hinge as he opens the closet door.

When he comes back into view, he’s got a pair of pliers. “Who the fuck keeps pliers in their bedroom?”, I ask.

As an answer to my question, he grabs my right hand, with his left, and grips the fingernail on my index finger with the pliers.