His Need by Ana Fawkes

-1-
     
    When I had boarded the large private jet , I didn’t have time to appreciate exactly what was happening to me because in my hand I carried a bag that contained a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold.  The CEO of the company I worked for, the powerful billionaire, Jonathan Black, had given me the bag and whisked me away for a flight to Los Angeles to tend to some business.
    I didn’t care to ask about this business, because I could only focus on the two erotic items in the bag in my hands. 
    The biggest thought I had was when Jonathan was going to use the items… and how… and how my body would react.
    To say my sex life was vanilla would be like eating vanilla ice cream and questioning its taste.  I couldn’t tell you the last time something different or fun happened, other than the casual boyfriend who would take me out for a couple months and then we would sleep together just to solidify the so-called relationship. 
    But that’s neither here nor there.
    What’s important was that after boarding the plane, my boss quickly told me he had to review some contracts and wanted to triple check financials.  He led me to a bed with its own private quarters on the aircraft and told me to rest.  We would fly into a different time zone – three hours behind – and the last thing he wanted was for me to get jet lagged at all.  He said he needed me in my beautiful, perfectly innocent state.
    I thought about the things we had done in his office earlier that day and there was nothing innocent about it.
    I didn’t think I was tired but my eyes shut when I hit the soft pillows.  Once the covers were placed on me, I was gone. 
    I’m not sure if I dreamt, but it was a small itch on the tip of my nose that woke me.  It was an annoying itch, the kind that no matter how much I tried to wiggle or scrunch my nose, it was there.  I tried to move my hands and found them free, as expected, but I couldn’t reach my nose.  When I pulled my hands apart, they wouldn’t come apart.  Something kept them close… something… hard. 
    I rolled to my back and blinked, remembering where I was.  I looked down and saw covers.  Again, I tried to move my hands and found that I was now on top of my hands.  My legs kicked with speed, sending the covers off the bed.  I still wore the same business attire from that morning, my skirt looking disheveled from my nap. 
    I couldn’t find my hands.  I couldn’t see my hands.  But I could use them. 
    I moved to my side and wiggled my fingers, reaching with all that I could manage.  I then looked over my shoulder just as my one finger was able to grip something.  It felt like a small chain. 
    It was a small chain.
    While I was sleeping, Jonathan Black had handcuffed me.

-2-
     
    I worked my way to the edge of the bed and sat there , my feet on the floor.  I threw my head side to side, trying to fix my hair, resorting to blowing pieces of hair from my face.  I knew I had to leave the small area of the plane to see Jonathan, but I didn’t want to look like a complete mess.
    Unless that’s what he intended me to look like.
    The shock of being handcuffed was matched by the shock of actually being in a situation to be handcuffed.  Up until that point, I only thought of the bag, and the two sexy items it contained, as a fantasy.  I had thought about Jonathan Black tying me up and ravaging me, but to have this happening in reality, it was almost too much to bear.
    I stood up from the bed and instantly fell back down to it.
    There was no feeling or control in my legs.  I was shaking again and this time I didn’t have the comfort of my hands.  You don’t realize how much you appreciate your hands until you can’t use them.  I wanted to touch my face, touch my breasts.  I wanted to hold myself, rub my arms. 
    I couldn’t do any of that.
    I suddenly felt exposed, even though I was fully clothed.  I felt more exposed now then back in Jonathan’s office when I was fully naked,