What I loved about Amanda was her adventurous spirit, her endless inquisitiveness, and the way she toyed with my affections, giving me ample reason to look for an opening when the time came to reveal more of myself to her uncommonly playful nature. We’d been working together for a few months, building her portfolio, adjusting to each other’s habits and eccentricities, and doing our best to avoid the obvious physical attractions two unattached people tend to suffer when one is a gorgeous model, and the other a highly discriminating photographer whose romantic attentions tend to gravitate towards willowy goddesses of Amanda’s caliber.
Without actually hitting any nails on the head, she’d been hinting a lot about exploring other, more playful avenues of seduction.
I cracked a smile, which I was sure she did not catch. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” squinted Amanda, “something a little... nasty. I don’t know.”
Her squinting always annoyed me, but not to the extent that it held the power to inflict any real damage to our two-week-old, sexual relationship. “Define nasty?”
She looked up from her semi-kneeling/sitting position on the floor in front of the couch; her eyes wide with adventurous glee, mixed with a partly hidden, deliciously sexy fear, and said, “You decide.”
I did by promising sweet Amanda I would give her ‘something a little nasty’ when we made love on Christmas Eve. Over the next five days, she questioned me incessantly about what was in the gift-wrapped boxes I’d brought, one at a time, every night, and placed under the Christmas tree.
“Wear something tight and revealing tomorrow night,” was all I said about our forthcoming adventure into the possible permutations of being conjugally nasty.
One of Amanda’s more subterranean expressions of body and facial language accompanied her affirmation. “I have just the thing.”
When she opened her front door to me on Christmas Eve, the first thing to catch my attention was a huge, red bow, affixed to the tightly knotted, leather thong Amanda used to secure her high flying ponytail. A fluffy, bright-white, terry cloth robe completely hid the rest of her from my overtly obvious expectations.
“Hi,” she smiled, while swinging the door wide-open and walking, barefoot, into the living room.
“Hi.” I closed and locked things behind us, juggling another two gift boxes under my arm, while tossing guarded glances at Amanda’s pure-white aura. She watched me walk slowly and gently towards her. Our eyes were glazed with fun excitement. Without so much as a hug or a peck on the cheek, I extended the first gift to her, and said, “Open it.”
Her perfectly sculpted and bright-red nails danced prettily over the white- tissue papered box and its thick-red ribbon. “Now?” Without waiting for an answer, Amanda carefully undid the bow. She was suddenly and excitedly up on her toes, as if she’d already caught a psychic glimpse of what her new boyfriend was first gifting his lover for Christmas. Her eyes got soft and sensual when the pair of white, patent leather skyscrapers impacted the side of her that had always wanted to try on a pair. They were a good two inches higher than anything she’d worn before
“Let me,” I offered as I removed the heels from their box and motioned Amanda towards the other side of the room.
She sat on the couch, carefully placing the palms of her hands down on its cushions. “Those are high.”
The dastardly tone in my voice made it clear the time for ‘nasty’ had, at last, arrived. “All the better to appreciate your long and luscious lower extremities, my sweet.”
I took her fingers in hand and lifted Amanda to a long, but softly passionate kiss, before which I said, “Merry Christmas.” The heels were a perfect fit.
She was now two-inches taller than I, a pleasantry over which we neither gloried nor complained. It was all part of the gift I’d longed to give Amanda since the day we met. Her arms were around my neck, her chest and lower torso pressed up against me, as if to say, ‘When I stop kissing you, I want this to have its desired effect.’
But when the kiss ended, I stepped away a foot or two, and said, “Go get another gift.”
Amanda’s shock was mild, given all the fun we were having, and her willingness to discover whatever nasty avenue I’d planned for us to explore.
“Excellent choice,” I praised, when she returned with her second gift.
Watching her negotiate the trip to the tree and back sent a sensual shiver up my spine. The robe came up to her knees, giving my focused attention a happily appreciating evaluation of Amanda’s perfectly constructed and toned calves.
She opened the gift, quickly discovering its content, while dropping her jaw in concert with the stunned astonishment that followed. “...What is it?” (As if she didn’t know.)
I removed the new toy from its box and put it around her neck, buckle in back. ”A ball gag.”
It was then that Amanda started relinquishing her composure to a more demanding, sensual curiosity. Flashbacks of photos she’d glimpsed on the net of women in bondage, gagged with shiny-red balls, sent a shiver down her spine. It was now obvious her new boyfriend intended to be a little nastier than Amanda had hoped.
“Now what?”
“Don’t you have a gift for me?” I glanced down at her robe sash. She undid its bow and slowly removed the fluffy-white garment. Low and behold, the ‘tight and revealing’ outfit I’d instructed her to wear for the evening more than satisfied my expectations. “Very nice.”
The robe fell to the floor. Amanda stepped back a bit to give me a better look. “You like?”
A white-nylon thong, and scant-white, push-up, strapless bra did much to seduce me into a higher state of readiness. “Turn around.” As she did, I reached down for the robe sash, which I used to quickly and tightly bind Amanda’s elbows together behind her back. “Has anyone ever done anything like this to you before?”
She was immediately breathless with playful trepidation. “No.”
“Merry Christmas.”
After tying off the last knot in the cinch, I walked around in front of her and planted a long, gently exploring kiss on her now-passive lips. Amanda’s impatience pressed up against me; my arms took charge of her shoulders. A curious exchange of body language, eye contact and passion ensued. It was obvious my new damsel loved every second of her newfound nastiness. She ground herself into the rock-hard bulge in my pants, trying desperately to reach around with her hands in a failed attempt at touching me somewhere erogenous, anywhere.
I broke the kiss and stepped back. “Let’s open another gift.”
Amanda watched as I walked over to the couch and sat. “Huh?”
“You heard me. Go get another gift from under the tree.” The sight of her writhing beauty made me crazy, but I was determined to control myself until all the gifts were opened and ministered where they would do the most good.
Watching her negotiate the retrieval of her next present was all a guy like me could ask for in the way of seductive eye candy. Amanda’s 36, double Ds billowed out beautifully from the top of the bra she’d chosen for the occasion. The muscle tone in her long, perfectly proportioned legs rippled deliciously as she slowly and carefully knelt to grab hold of the next package beneath the tree. And, all the while, she tested the integrity of the elbow bind, while maintaining a perilous balance and wondering how much nastier things were going to get.
Not a word was spoken while I opened the next gift. Amanda watched from a kneeling position as I lifted a 50-foot length of thick-nylon rope from the box.
“Stand up.”
I took off my shirt as she carefully did, tied one end of the rope to the elbow cinch, and stepped back about five feet. “Turn around, and don’t stop turning until I tell you to.” She did as she was told, and, as she did, I tightened the slack to make the first circle around her arms and torso nice and snug. She didn’t try to lessen the tension by moving towards me while the three circles of three-eighths inch, seamless nylon rope caressed her arms and ribcage, just below Amanda’s hard-pressed breasts. The next three were stacked above, and a heck of a lot tighter, thanks to her newfound desire to both resist and tighten things up as she turned. An under-the armpits-over-the-shoulders, harness line took all the slack out of the first three circles.
The seventeen remaining feet were used to thoroughly crisscross and enhance the fix with a rope design that resembled a fishnet.
“Wow,” was all Amanda could come up with after I set the last knot and stepped away to admire her bound beauty. “This is sssooooooo nasty.”
Without even asking if she wanted more of the same, I said, “Go get another gift.”
Her hesitation was telling, but a force beyond her was in control now. It soon compelled her to go with whatever I had in mind. Again, I watched as she walked to the tree and stood to ponder the three remaining gifts. A glance at the other one I’d brought with me and placed on the couch was fleeting.
“Later,” I said, knowing it wasn’t the right time to open it.
“Good things come in small packages,” she quipped while kneeling to her next task.
The sight of her was mesmerizing, taking its sweet time to retrieve the next surprise. She was now wielding her visual power with the kind of body language Amanda instinctively knew would push all kinds of buttons; light all sorts of fuses within my hard pressed and disciplined libido. Her sexy, feminine fingers lightly grasped hold of the package. Long, fire engine red nails flashed back at me, thanks to the white-tissue wrapping paper, and occasional twitches and erotically expressive mannerisms my new damsel choreographed into the visual mix. The colorful lights, tinsel and baubles on the tree made for the perfect, accompanying background, giving me pause to wonder if I should take a few pictures.
“You open it,” I suggested while taking her into my arms and ministering a wet one that could not have been more intimate...
Thanks to the passionate exchange of kisses, it took her a good five
minutes to discover the next gift behind her back. I smiled knowingly.
A tiny envelope was inside.
“It’s a chat room name. Your mission, should you accept it, will be to click it, and take it from there.”
A fuzzy smile graced her face as she struggled in her ropes and tried to get my erection’s attention. Instead, without a word, I walked out of the room. Amanda was beside herself with horny impatience. “John?”
“Be right back.”
Ten seconds later, I returned- rolling an armless desk chair Amanda used all the time. I placed it in back of her, and said as I moved to the tree, “Sit down on the front end of the chair.”
She did.
I was back in a flash, opening the next gift: more rope, another 50 feet of three-eighths nylon, and a few shorter lengths of quarter inch, which I used to parallel bind Amanda’s ankles and lower thighs. She was soon securely tied to the chair, sitting on its front half, with ankles tied directly to the center post under the seat, enjoying the pressure of crotch rope and such throughout her thoroughly bound and bothered, physical awareness.
“This is amazing.”
“I take it you like the nasty gifts,” I said as I straddled her and half sat in her lap.
She gazed up at me, her eyes half closed and fuzzy with uncommon, sensual reflection, and whispered, “I love it.”
“It’s time to rock and roll,” said I as I kissed Amanda madly and we rolled out of the room and into the next to the corner her workstation occupied. I punched on the pc, stood, and walked back to the tree for another gift. My new damsel used the time to test her ropes, especially the one between her legs. ‘I love it.’
My quick return engendered a curious look as I undid the wrapping and removed a tiny TV camera from its box. “I installed all the software last night, while you were in the shower.”
Amanda watched as I hooked up the new cyber toy in our lives. A powerful fear raced through her nervous system. The wetness below erupted unexpectedly to become more than just the next level of horny frustration it had been dealing with since she put on the heels. “What are you going to do?”
“Wait and learn.”
Amanda was always taking pictures of me and the other models she knew, and with whom she’d worked and socialized. Some of the shots were nudes and such, and covertly taken, without permission. We all knew what she was up to, but held back with our disapproval, in the hope of someday turning the tables on our voyeuristic co-worker.
An image of a very bound and bothered Amanda appeared onscreen. “Oh-my-goodness.” She was now beyond caring about controlling her gorgeous figure’s sensually demonstrative writhing. I left her again to ponder the situation, but, this time, after plucking the next gift from under the tree, I sat on the couch to open it and let things marinate a bit in the bedroom.
A few minutes later, I walked back into the situation and said, “Did you open any of these gifts?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Still wanna play?”
“Yes. How much nastier are you, uh- we going to get?” asked Amanda, just before I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pull her head back as far as it would go.
I stared deeply into my damsel’s eyes, and whispered, “Trust me.”
By now, Amanda could care less about anything remotely associated with the word ‘trust.’ “I love this.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said, before stuffing her mouth with the natural sponge I’d removed from the gift box. It thoroughly did the job. “Chin down.”
Amanda felt the ball gag enter her gaping awe, and press back strictly against the soft, but fully filling substance in her mouth. The strap was soon secured. She watched as I set something up on the pc. We were soon in a chat room of our own making. Its title was ‘Nothing Special.’
My next line engendered a wondering look from Amanda’s sensually suffering eyes. “Type something into the room.”
“Muhuh?”
“You heard me. Use your nose to type and send.” I rolled her up closer to the keyboard. “I’m going to make myself a drink.”
Amanda watched me leave the room. ‘Nasty isn’t the word... This is downright diabolical.’
Teazer25 entered the chat room and sent the first message. “John?”
My very horny heroine didn’t know what to do. ‘Oh-my-goodness.’
Teazer25 continued. “OK, well, if you are not there right now, perhaps there is someone else in the chair. Is there?”
Amanda did her best to type a ‘yes.’
“I see,” answered Teazer25. “By the looks of the way you screwed up your ‘yes,’ I am imagining you are possibly tied to, or on the chair. Yes? If yes, then just send any right board key. If no, send a left board key.”
“...o.”
“I see. Is John there with you?”
I walked back into the room and read the scroll. I then sent back, “...AAAAA,” stripping down to just briefs.
“I see,” continued Teazer25. “Then you are alone, tied up, and wondering what will happen next. Yes?”
Amanda gave me a worried look. I typed, “OOOOOOOOOOO,” before straddling and sitting in back of her, and pressing my hard-on up against her fingers.
She now knew why I hadn’t bound her wrists.
“Muhuhuh,” she swooned as two more friends, one of which was a model also, clicked into the room.
“Merry Christmas,” I wished while putting my arms around my new playmate and kissing her neck and shoulders. “Is this nasty enough for you?”
She was doing whatever she could with the bulge in my briefs, hoping to get a grip on the situation as she struggled sensuously in her ropes and did her best to control crotch rope pressure. A nod and a “Muh” accompanied the effort.
“Shall we get a bit nastier?”
“Muh?”
It took some doing, but I soon removed her bra to discover two, very hard nipples underneath. “Having fun?”
“Muhuhuhuh,” she swooned as she nodded and felt my fingers on the tips of both breasts. Her fingers were doing all they could to get into my briefs.
Meanwhile, the chat room filled with people my mischievous damsel had sneakily photographed, all of whom also happened to be fellow bondage kinks. I pinched Amanda’s nipples, kissed, nibbled on, tongued and airbrushed her neck, and pushed another of her buttons. “Shall we play with the web cam?”
Her struggling now took on a whole new demeanor as she tore at my last stitch of clothing and her body language reflected a frantic but explicit. ‘Noooooooo!’
“What if I choose to anyway?” With that, I stood, removed the briefs, and took my erection in hand. “I thought you said you wanted to do something nasty.”
Amanda stared at me, wide-eyed, while writhing feverishly in her ropes. It was obvious her emotional/intellectual circuitry could no longer deal with the input at hand. I sat down in back of her again. She took hold of my rock-hard cock. I did the same with her nipples.
The chat room soon filled to capacity.
“Can you guess who they are? Do the names Cindy, Natasha, Roberta and Gwen ring a bell?” The moment bristled with erotic consequence. “Shall we tell them what’s going on here?”
Amanda could not decide on a ‘yes’ or a ‘no,’ so I scrolled, “We have a new initiate to welcome tonight. Her name is Mariah.”
For the next minute or so, Amanda read her greetings and kept a firm grip on my passion. Some of the messages had ‘Ts’ on the ends of them. I explained.
“The ‘T’ means ‘tied.’ Now, shall we open your last gift?” It sat on the floor to the right of the chair. Without waiting for a response, I opened it and first removed a pair of huge sunglasses, which I placed over Amanda’s gaping eyes. Next came the kinky-blond wig, which was also carefully fitted to my crazed damsel’s cranium. “There, that should keep things covert until you decide to come out of the closet.”
Amanda watched as I played the keyboard and sent a few instant messages.
“Ever been on TV before?”
The question inspired my now very wet and bothered damsel to tighten her grip somewhat. I reciprocated by rocking back and forth to take advantage of the hand/eye opportunity. So it went for the next minute or so, before the ‘You’ve got mail’ guy interrupted, and my right hand let go of Amanda’s left nipple to open it. An inserted, recently taken, digital image slowly appeared onscreen...
“That’s Petula.” She was also tied to her chair. “Most of them don’t have web cam’s yet.”
I scrolled, “Nice chair tie, Robert. Thanks for sending. ‘T.’”
Several other roomies thanked him as well.
Then I scrolled, “Well, now, what shall we do tonight?”
Amanda read each suggestion with extreme concern and curiosity. When Robert’s hit the room, she lost it.
Teazer25: “How about we do something nasty to her breasts? Everyone got nipple clips?”
I reached down into the box on the floor to retrieve a length of thin cord, which I dangled in front of Amanda’s nose. Little hangman’s nooses were fashioned at each end. While securing them to my thoroughly turned-on and out-of-control damsel’s breast erections, I injected a few choice words into the moment and enjoyed her grip on the matter at hand.
“Enjoying yourself?”
She nodded a ‘yes.’
“So am I. Am I too over-the-top for you?”
‘No.’
“Like all the gifts?”
‘Yes.’
“Should I open my gifts now?”
She tightened her grip again. ‘No.’
The nipple tether was now securely set. It brought Amanda’s mounds closer to each other by about a half inch. I plucked it a few times before opening more mail. The pictures it contained had the desired effect.
“Let go of my cock.” She wouldn’t. “I said, let go.”
‘No.’
I grabbed the mouse and hung it over the nipple tether. If you don’t let go, I’ll hang the keyboard from it.”
She let go; I stood up, and said, “Try to escape.”
Amanda stared wantonly at my hardness, which I took in hand and began to stroke. Hers eyes pleaded back at me, but I was in no mood to give her what she wanted just yet. The moment crackled with justice, not to mention kinky delight.
“Mind if I access your hard drive?” said I while doing so with my free hand.
Amanda watched as I opened a zip file named ‘Private Stock.’ (I’d discovered it while installing the web cam program when she was in the shower.) In it were all the ‘illegal’ pictures she’d taken of us.
“How about we email these to their owners before deleting them?”
Her struggling was intense. So was our pleasure. Within a few minutes, we both started to cum; I, all over her, and Amanda... well, let’s just say she could not have been more pleased with her Christmas gifts, and the new circle of ‘nasty’ friends who were now being thrust upon her, with or without her permission.
John Roper
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02.01.04