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helloaugustmoon · 3 months ago

Text

FUCKING HELL !!!!!!!!!! 🫶🏻😳

tied & taken

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: Michael finally indulges one of his most sinful fantasies: tying you to the bed like the perfect present you are and fucking you stupid over and over, until you're utterly spent.

Tags: smut, bondage, blindfold, pre-established safe words, dom!michael, sub!reader, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, dick too big (but that's not new here).

Word Count: 5k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: let's finish this year with a bang!

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The room glows softly, the only light coming from the twinkling Christmas tree in the corner. Outside the frosted windows snow falls in lazy flakes, blanketing the world in white. Inside, though, your world is anything but calm. Goosebumps pebble your skin and your heart beats faster as you lie back on the bed, completely bare, just as naked as he is.

Above you, Michael’s chain dangles, catching the warm light. It sways slightly as he leans over you. Your breathing hitches when his warm fingers wrap gently around your wrist, bringing it up to the headboard. The luxurious red silk ribbon glides against your skin, making you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the winter weather.

He works slowly, taking his time, as though savoring each second. His hands are careful but firm, tying the ribbon around your wrist and securing it to the headboard. When he finishes, he takes the loose ends and ties a small, elegant bow. It’s almost ridiculous how much care he’s putting into the details.

Your eyes wander up to his face, and you catch a look in his eyes that sends another shiver through you. It’s a look of control, of desire, and something more—something deeper, a hunger that he’s clearly been holding back. How long has he been waiting for this? The thought makes your cheeks warm.

He notices your dazed expression and gently tilts your chin up, drawing you back into the moment. “What color?” he asks, his voice low, grounding you even as it makes your heart race.

For a second, your focus drifts to the slickness trailing down your slit, a mortifying reminder of how ready your body is for him. You swallow hard, blinking up at him before quietly responding, “green.”

Michael’s lips curl into a satisfied smile. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your forehead.

He moves to your other wrist, repeating the process with the same care. Once it’s tied you tilt your head up, looking at your wrists and you tug lightly, testing the bonds. They hold firm but not uncomfortably so.

Michael notices and reaches out to cradle your cheek. His thumb strokes the soft skin there as he asks, “Want me to loosen them up? Don’t want my baby to be uncomfortable.”

The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache, and you shake your head, unable to look away from his deep brown eyes. How does he do that? How does he manage to be so gentle and so commanding all at once? It’s maddening and intoxicating.

“Use your words,” he prompts, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

You feel heat rising in your face, and you whisper, “No.”

A proud smile spreads across his face, and he coos softly, “Just like that.”

His big hands begin their descent, trailing down your body with deliberate slowness. When his fingers brush against your breasts, your nipples pebble even harder, the mix of the cold air and your arousal making them hypersensitive. He pauses there, cupping your tits in his warm hands and giving them special attention. His thumbs brush over your stiff buds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

Your breathing picks up, shallow and quick, as he kneads your breasts, his focus so intense it makes you wonder. What other freaky shit is he into? The thought almost makes you giggle, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

Michael notices immediately. His head cocks to the side, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “What’s got you smiling, huh?”

You quickly shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble, trying to stifle the grin.

“Nothing?” he repeats, his smirk widening. “You sure about that?”

Before you can answer, he leans down, his lips wrapping around one of your nipples. The teasing tug of his mouth erases the smile from your face in an instant, replacing it with a gasp as heat pools low in your belly. He sucks gently at first, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he pulls back slightly, only to take it deeper into his mouth.

Your head falls back against the pillows, your body arching into him as his hands greedily squeeze your waist. He alternates between your breasts, worshiping each one with his lips and tongue. Your tied wrists tug instinctively at the ribbons.

“Michael,” you breathe, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He hums in response, the vibration against your sensitive nipple sending a shockwave through you. His hands slide lower, skimming over your ribs and settling on your hips. He grips you firmly, holding you in place as his mouth continues its assault on your chest.

He finally let your nipple slip free, a thin string of saliva still connecting him to you. The sight alone has your breath catching, but it’s the way he leans back, his movements slow, that makes you squirm.

Michael’s body shifts, his broad shoulders and toned chest glistening faintly under the soft light. His cock, thick and heavy, bobs between his legs as he moves, curving downwards from how fat it is. His tip peeking from the hood all glossy from his precum. You can’t help but stare, your mouth watering at the sight. You’re so caught up in the sight of him that you barely register his hands sliding down to your ankle, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses up the length of your leg.

He reaches your knee, his kisses growing more seductive. His gaze locks with yours, and the lookon his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. Slowly, he wraps the red ribbon around your bent knee, his fingers brushing your skin as he ties it off. The silk is soft but secure as he ties it to the headboard, your knee now folded up so tightly that it’s nearly touching your shoulder. The position leaves you gasping softly, the exposed stretch of your body making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

He leans over to do the same with your other leg. His cock hovers dangerously close to your slippery folds, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper when it doesn’t quite touch you. Michael’s smirk deepens at your disappointment. When he finishes tying your other knee to the headboard, he finally sits back on his heels, surveying you like an artist admiring their masterpiece.

You swallow hard, testing the restraints. Your legs can barely move, and the angle leaves you completely exposed. Your pussy is spread wide, glistening in the soft light, your swollen clit and drooling entrance on full display. You can feel the heat radiating off your body, your vulnerability making your cheeks burn hotter. You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of mercy, but all you find is his smug, knowing smile.

“You look perfect, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his large hands pressing against the backs of your thighs. He pushes them closer to your chest, folding you even tighter, and the motion has your walls clenching around nothing. A desperate whine escapes your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Michael bites his lip and lets go of your legs, leaning back slightly as he picks up another length of ribbon. The crimson fabric slides through his fingers as he looks at you thoughtfully. “Sure about this too?” he asks, his tone teasing.

You nod quickly, your movements impatient, feeling like you might combust if he doesn’t touch you soon.

He tsks softly, shaking his head. “What did I say about using your words like a big girl?”

A frustrated whine escapes your throat. Your body is strung so tight that you feel like you might snap. “I’m sure,” you say through gritted teeth, your voice wavering. “Just… please.”

Michael leans forward, his hand cradling your cheek. His thumb brushes against your heated skin as he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The tenderness soothes you slightly, but it’s not enough to ease the ache between your legs. While kissing you, his hands move to the sides of your head, lifting it gently.

The blindfold slides over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The sudden loss of sight heightens every other sensation—the warmth of his hands, the faint scent of his cologne, the sound of your own uneven breathing filling the room.

When Michael pulls back, the bed shifts slightly under his weight. You strain your ears, trying to figure out where he is or what he’s doing, but all you’re met with is silence. The anticipation is maddening, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing.

“Michael?” you call out softly, your voice trembling.

There’s no response, only the sound of the bed creaking slightly. Did he get off the bed? Is he watching you from somewhere else in the room? You feel so exposed, so utterly helpless, and it’s almost too much to bear.

Michael watches you from his spot on the bed, a satisfied smirk on his face. He can see how worked up you are, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your thighs trembling in their bonds. The sight of you like this—vulnerable, needy, and completely at his mercy—makes his cock twitch painfully. But he’s not done teasing you yet.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “Remember your safeword?” you nod and lick your lips. He hums satisfied.

Michael’s presence looms, his gaze burning into you even though you can’t see him. You can feel him watching, his attention laser-focused on your completely exposed form. The silence is maddening.

He sits back on his heels, stroking himself slowly, his hand wrapping firmly around his thick shaft. He’s been hard for what feels like hours, teasing you and himself, drawing this game out longer than you thought possible. His eyes stay glued to your puffy cunt. The way you’re spread open for him, your knees tied up near your shoulders, your weeping pussy on full display—it’s enough to make his cock leak with need.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with heat. “So needy. Always begging without saying a word.”

You don’t respond, your throat too tight, your body too aware of the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t need an answer anyway. His thumb swipes over the leaking head of his cock, spreading the precum as he strokes himself lazily.

The moment his tip makes contact with your clit, you gasp, your body jolting at the sudden stimulation. The wet, heavy tap makes your eyes flutter against the ribbon.

He lifts his cock away just as you instinctively try to grind your hips upward. The movement leaves you empty, aching for more, and you let out a frustrated whine. Your wrists and knees tug at the restraints, but there’s no give. You’re completely helpless.

“Ah, ah,” he coos, his tone mocking but affectionate. “Don’t get too greedy now.”

Greedy? The word makes you want to scoff. He’s been tormenting you all day, bringing you to the edge of release over and over, only to pull back at the last second. Your body is on fire but you bite your tongue. You know better than to talk back—it’ll only give him an excuse to draw this out even longer.

Michael notices the way your lips purse, the telltale sign of your irritation. It makes him smile. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, leaning forward to hover over your bound frame. His weight shifts the bed, and you feel the heat of his body radiating down to you.

He stops close to your face, his breath ghosting over your lips. You can feel how near he is, so close that you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. Your body tenses in anticipation, your lips parting slightly as you tilt your head up to meet him. But he moves at the last second, just out of reach, and your head falls back against the pillow with a frustrated sigh.

He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. “Were you expecting something?”

You pout, your lips trembling slightly. He’s playing with you, toying with you, and you can’t even see his expression. It’s infuriating.

Feeling a pang of guilt at your defeated expression, Michael finally closes the distance. His lips press against yours, warm and tender, an apology of sorts. You sigh into the kiss, your body relaxing for the first time in what feels like hours. His tongue slips into your mouth and for a few blissful moments, he gives in to you, letting you taste him, feel him, and your heart swells at the intimacy.

But it’s over too soon. He pulls back, leaving you breathless, and begins trailing kisses down your body. His mouth moves slowly, savoring every inch of you. He kisses along the curve of your neck, down to your collarbone, his hands greedily squeezing your sides as he goes. His lips continue their journey down your stomach. His hands knead your thighs, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he takes his time worshipping you.

On instinct you tilt your head upward as if that will help you see something—anything—but the blindfold holds firm, the dark fabric blocking out all light. You can’t even find the smallest gap to peek through. Frustrated, you let your head fall back against the pillows again.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Michael says, his voice muffled against your inner thigh. “Completely helpless. Completely mine.”

Your walls clench instinctively around nothing. The need inside you is almost unbearable. But Michael doesn’t seem to be in any hurry. He’s savoring this—savoring you—and it only makes your desperation grow.

He reaches your dripping core, and your breath catches as you feel the first teasing puff of warm air against your sensitive, slick folds. The sensation is maddening, a small, desperate whimper escapes your lips, and you can feel the corners of his smirk even though you can’t see it.

“Patience, my girl,” he murmurs.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise. But even as he speaks, he doesn’t touch you. Instead, he just stares, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of your swollen, sticky folds. Your hips jerk instinctively, seeking any kind of relief.

You hear him chuckle softly. “So desperate,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But that’s exactly how I want you.”

Before you can respond, his tongue finally makes contact. The first broad lick of his hot, wet tongue over your folds pulls a choked gasp from your lips. He doesn’t rush, taking his time as he laps at you, savoring the tangy sweetness of your slick like it’s his favorite dessert. He drags his tongue slowly along every crevice, deliberately avoiding your throbbing button.

He sucks gently on your folds, his lips closing around them as he alternates between soft kisses and teasing nibbles. His tongue dips lower, swirling around your entrance before sliding inside, the wet heat of it making you clench helplessly around the intrusion. A shaky moan escapes your lips as your body arches toward him. But still he ignores your clit, leaving the most sensitive part of you aching for attention.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

He pulls back just enough to speak, not wanting to be too separated from your delicious cunt. “Please, what?” he asks, his tone casual, almost amused.

Your cheeks burn hotter, and you swallow hard, trying to find the words. “I- I’ve been good,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “I’ve been so good.”

He hums thoughtfully, his wet lips brushing against your inner thigh as he considers your plea. “You think so?” he asks, his tone playful, almost taunting. “You think you’ve earned it?”

“Yes, yes,” you whisper. “Please, I-”

But he doesn’t let you finish. His mouth is on you again, his tongue delving into every crevice, every fold, tasting you so thoroughly it’s almost obscene. But still, he avoids your clit, leaving it untouched, the neglect driving you to the brink of madness.

Your body trembles as you tug at the silk ribbons holding you in place. The heightened sensations of being so bound and blindfolded only add to the insatiable craving. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You want to beg, to cry, to scream—but you bite your lip, trying to hold back.

He notices, of course. He always notices. “Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You look like you’re about to cry. Is it that bad?”

“Yes,” you sob, unable to hold back any longer. “Just let me-”

Relenting his tongue moves higher. The first deliberate flick of his tongue over your clit sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, and you cry out, your entire body jerking against the restraints. He doesn’t stop this time, his tongue flicking your sensitive nub with just the right amount of pressure.

Your head falls back, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds rapidly. He holds you there, right on the edge, his lips sealed tightly around your pulsing clit.

And when you finally cum, it’s like a dam breaking. Your body shaking as you cry out his name, your voice cracking with the intensity of it. He doesn’t stop, his tongue and lips drawing out every last shudder, every last tremor, until you’re left gasping for air, completely spent.

Michael pulls back slowly, his lips unlatching and covered with your slick, his eyes dark and satisfied as he watches you come down from the high. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of praise. “So good for me.”

The room is silent except for your ragged breaths and the faint creak of the mattress beneath you. The blindfold remains snug over your eyes, leaving your other senses to compensate. Every little noise—his breathing, the subtle shift of his weight—feels magnified.

You try to move, to close your legs and shield your overstimulated pussy, but the silk ribbons binding your knees to the headboard keep you helplessly spread. The effort only causes the restraints to tug against your skin, a reminder of just how exposed you are. You whimper softly, the vulnerability making you hyper aware of your slick dripping onto the sheets beneath you.

A low chuckle rumbles from him. “Trying to close up on me?” he teases, his voice dark and smooth. “Thought you know better than that.”

You hear him shift closer, and then his fingers are there, just barely ghosting over your drenched folds. The touch is featherlight. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more contact, but his hand moves away just as quickly, leaving you panting and desperate.

“So twitchy,” he says. “So sensitive. That’s what happens when my pretty girl is all tied up, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, your chest rising and falling as his fingers return, this time pressing gently against your quivering entrance. The tip of one finger dips inside, just enough to make you whimper, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. He doesn’t push further, though, just toys with your hole, circling and teasing until you’re nearly in tears again from the frustration.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Just made you cum, yet your greedy little pussy wants more, doesn't she?”

His fingers finally press deeper, sliding knuckle-deep into your wet depth. Your mouth falls open as the stretch sends a jolt of pleasure through you, but it’s still not enough—not nearly enough.

He curls his fingers inside you, brushing against that sweet spot that makes your back arch and a sharp gasp leave your lips. “There we go,” he says, his other hand reaching down to wrap around his stiff, lengthy cock. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes locked on your needy cunt. The bulbous tip of his cock glistens with precum, and he lets a thick bead of it drip onto your folds, mix with your juices.

“Look at this mess,” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out of you in a steady rhythm. “No one gets to see you like this, only me.”

He adds another finger, spreading you open, the stretch deliciously overwhelming, and you cry out, involuntary tugging at the restraints. His free hand tightens around his cock, fisting the veiny length as he watches you squirm and writhe beneath him.

He slows his movements, his fingers sliding out of you as you whine at the loss. You can hear him licking his fingers clean, the wet, sinful sounds making your cheeks burn. “Are you sure about this?” he asks, his voice sincere, lacking that teasing tone. “Once I’m inside you, I won’t be able to hold back. You know that, don’t you, my clever girl?”

“mhm,” you gasp, nodding vigorously. “I know, I know.”

He chuckles softly at your eagerness. “Good,” he says.

He positions himself at your entrance. His girthy, meaty cock presses against your sticky lips, teasing and testing your limits. Your breath hitches, the tremors running through you making it impossible to stay still. He notices, of course, his sharp eyes drinking in every quiver of your restrained body.

“Shh, easy now,” he murmurs softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. His hand caresses your hip before gripping it firmly, his possessive touch grounding you. “Need you to relax, sweetheart. If you don’t, I won’t be able to fit.” His tone is gentle but laced with command.

You nod obediently, biting your lip as you try to relax, though the very thought of his monstrous size has your walls fluttering in anticipation. His hand tightens on your hip, anchoring you in place as he lines himself up. He shifts his weight slightly, and you feel the warmth of his tip nudging at your entrance. Slowly, he slides the glossy head through your folds, mixing his precum with your slick.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to push inside, his tip stretching you open. A whimper escapes your lips as your body struggles to accommodate his girth, the slight sting of the stretch making your eyes flutter behind the blindfold. He groans deeply, the sound guttural and full of restraint as he fights the urge to shove himself in all at once.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep.

He glides in deeper, each thick inch making your body tense. His hold on your soft hip tightens, his thumb brushing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you. When he finally buries himself to the hilt, his heavy balls pressing firmly against your ass, you let out a strangled cry, your head pressing back into the pillow as your mouth falls open. The stretch is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you breathless.

He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust, your folds stretched impossibly wide around him. “Such a perfect present for me, stuffed full of my cock.” His voice is thick with pride and lust.

His words send a flush of heat to your cheeks. Before you can respond, he leans down, his broad chest pressing against yours as his lips capture yours in a hungry, sloppy kiss. His kisses swallowing your whimpers as he devours you.

You lose yourself in the feeling, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of his lips, the press of his body, the stretch of his cock buried deep inside you. Then, without warning, he starts to move, his hips pulling back before driving forward with a powerful thrust. The force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, and you gasp against his lips, your moans spilling freely as he sets a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each plunge is hard and fast, his hips pistoling against the back of your thighs, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room. The squelching sounds of your soaked pussy are loud, debaucherous, and they seem to drive him even wilder. You can feel the creamy ring of your juices forming at the base of his cock, coating his dark, coiled pubic hair, and the thought makes your pout. It’s a shame you can’t see it for yourself.

“God, baby,” he groans, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. “You’re making such a mess on my cock.”

Your wrists tug at the ribbons binding you to the headboard, the tension making your arms ache slightly, but the sensation only adds to the intensity. Your tits bounce with each powerful thrust, your body rocking against the mattress as he takes you with an almost animalistic fervor. His groans mix with your cries, the smell of sex filling the air.

His lips latch onto your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he nips and sucks, marking you as his. Each bite sends jolts of heat through your body, claiming you in a way that feels primal and possessive. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access, even as his pace leaves you gasping for air. His cock hammers against your cervix with each thrust, and the pressure makes your legs tremble and your toes curl.

The blindfold over your eyes grows damp as tears of pleasure stream down your face. The fabric, already a deep red, darkens as it absorbs the evidence of your ecstasy. Your outstretched arms and legs ache from being bound for so long, but the sheer intensity of being impaled on his cock makes the discomfort fade into the background. Your entire world narrows to the sensation of him, the overwhelming stretch, the animalistic rhythm, and the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your release builds quickly, your walls fluttering around him as your body reaches its limit. Without warning, you squirt, a gush of liquid soaking his cock, his abdomen, and his thighs. The release is powerful and uncontrollable, a strangled cry escapes your lips. He groans in response, his voice rough and laced with desire.

He curses under his breath, his hips never faltering. If anything, he fuck you harder, the wetness only spurring him on. The bed creaks louder, rocking with his movements, and you swear it might break under the force of his pounding. “Come on, baby, give it to me. Drench cock.”

Your body spasms, squirting again and again as he drives you into overstimulation. Your juices spray in every direction, soaking everything. The sensitivity becomes unbearable, and you start to shake, your voice high-pitched and breathy as you babble incoherently. “It’s too much, too much!” you manage to whine, your words slurred from the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

He leans down, his lips brushing your ear as he coos softly. “Shh, I know, sweetheart, I know. But you can take it. Just one more for me, yeah?”

His fingers find your slippery, swollen clit, rubbing it in tight circles. The additional stimulation sends your mind into a haze, and you scream as another orgasm tears through you. Your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, milking him as you soak him once more, your body convulsing uncontrollably. Your hands tug at the ribbons, and your hard nipples graze against his chest, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He groans loudly, his hips stuttering as your tightness pushes him over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he buries himself inside you, his heavy cock throbbing as he spills his hot, milky load into your fluttering pussy. The warmth of his release soothes your overstimulated walls, but the sheer volume has it spilling out of you, dripping down to coat your asshole and the sheets beneath you.

He stays there, pressed against you, his length still buried inside as he lets you come down from the high. His rough demeanor softens as he reaches up to gently remove the blindfold, revealing your tear-streaked, flushed face. His fingers brush your hair back as he cups your cheek tenderly.

You let your eyes adjust. Gaze drifting to his face illuminated by the twinkling tree in the corner. You can see his curls sticking to his forehead and his lips parted, breathing heavily. What a man.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern. “Was that too much?”

You shake your head, your body too spent to form words. He presses a kiss to each of your wrists before carefully untying them, his touch delicate and soothing. He does the same to your knees, unbinding them and letting your legs fall limply to the bed. The relief of being able to move again is immediate, and you groan softly as the ache in your limbs starts to fade.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his tone filled with affection. He grabs a glass of water from the nightstand and helps you drink, holding the glass to your lips as you sip slowly. Once you’re rehydrated, he sets it aside and slides out of you with deliberate care, your walls weakly squeezing around him, his softened cock wet with your combined release. He groans quietly, clearly struggling to keep himself from getting hard again as he watches your pussy gape, leaking his cum.

“God,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “We should do this again someday.”

You manage a weak laugh, your voice hoarse from crying out. “Only if I get to tie you up next time.”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

You pout, rolling your eyes, but a mischievous smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You’re already scheming on how you’ll get him to agree. After all, isn’t he the one who always says, “happy wife, happy life?” Well this is exactly what will make you really happy.

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#ho is you Shakespeare #YOU HAVE DONE IT AGAIN !!!!!!!!#oh if you knew how much I loved you

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