Damsel in Distress 3

Part Five

In spite of numerous golden opportunities, and dozens of outrageous propositions from both male a female guests, Annette had yet to participate in an actual scene while B/D partying at the house. The temptation to let go to what she knew would be as safe a situation as any she could imagine haunted the 39 year old ex model day and night, engendering a dilemma so far removed from the realms of her outgrown experience it literally cried out for an uncommon hero to rescue her from her overly cautious and underdeveloped proclivities. As sure as Annette was about the fail-safe aspect of what her newfound friends proposed, there still remained a modicum of uneasiness with which to wrestle before plunging headlong into her first scene at the house. Being the psychically oriented damsel she was, Annette opted to wait on a green light from her intuition before making a move she'd already decided would be the deep end of the kinkiest pool into which she'd ever considered diving.

As per John's instructions, Jackie had been keeping a sharp eye on the Nebraska born beauty from the moment she first walked into the house, some two months prior.
"Good evening, Anne. Mind if I sit with you?" socialized Jackie, just after Barbara's body stopped sharing the responsibility of sustaining the weight of its upright posture.
Annette Spalding turned to look up at her latest, close acquaintance, and smiled, "Hi. Sure."
"Anything I can get you?"
Anne smiled. "How about the Greek god you were just teasing the hell out of." (Jackie loved to tease.)
'Figures,' she thought while glancing over at her latest challenge. "He's too new here. But if you really want to pursue him, I may be able to help you out."
Annette looked back at the monitor just as a blank-green screen replaced the image of Barbara's near fainting countenance. She smiled and turned to her new partner in crime, lost the smile, and said, rather boldly "Introduce me."
Jackie raised her right eyebrow a bit. "Give me a few minutes to set things up." With that, she stood and walked slowly to Paul Conrad's side. They stood watching the monitor for a minute before Annette's agent pitched her case. "Still want to get into one tonight?"
His comeback was not unexpected. "Ready whenever you are."
Jackie did her best to suppress a grin. "First, you must do me a favor."

Annette always came to the house dressed for action. 'This ought to knock his socks off,' she expected as she stood and primped in front of the full-length mirror in guest room 7. A barely legal, black teddy, cut low, both front and back, highlighted her exquisite figure in such a way as to suggest she was not only ready for some serious bondage, but that, if her binder chose to, thanks to the two snap buttons at the crotch, he could easily access her ever-moistening quiver whenever he wished. 'He'll have to remove the panty hose first,' teased Annette in advance of her green light-activated, consort's arrival.
The six-inch, patent leather pumps were still in her bag. She'd decided not to take them out and put them on until her hero knocked at the door.

Meanwhile, down in the 'dungeon,' Barbara watched her two hooded keepers inflate a mattress on the floor in front of her. She would soon be naked and napping on its slick, rubber surface, under the soft-warmth of a red comforter. A pillow was also provided. As wiped as she was, the thought of going home never entered her currently supercharged expectations. 'Good thing I bathed before coming here.'

"Remember, now," instructed Jackie as she and Paul Conrad stood in front of the door to Annette Spalding's room, "you're gay, though not apparently, she's married, and all you have to do in the fantasy is bind her sensually and leave. Got that?"
"Where will you be?"
Jackie turned and pointed to the door on the other side of the hallway. "In the attic, waiting..." A very delicate kiss and a reassuring hand pat on her playmates chest gave Paul every reason to believe he would soon have his dream date twitching with wildly abandoning, sensual deprivation before the clock struck one.

Annette was pressing her lips together at the vanity mirror to finish applying the last coat of lipstick when her date's three door-knocks broke the hypnotic fantasy spell in which she'd been lost since entering the room. A jolt of anticipating fear pierced her heart as she came back to 'reality' and unscrewed the lipstick back into its gold-plated cylinder. "Well now," said Annette Spalding to herself in the mirror, "I guess it's show time." She tried to smile, but the deliciously serious wave of erotic energy that possessed her simply would not let her. She stood, walked to the four-poster, sat, and reached for her bag, from which she removed the skyscrapers. Paul watched Jackie disappear down the staircase, checked himself out in the mirror to the right of the door, and put both hands in his pockets before remembering his role in the fantasy-to-come. 'Gay, but not apparently; aggressively dominant, and the gear is in the wicker chest at the foot of the bed.'
...The door opened. Annette managed a tiny smile, and said in a sexy-soft tone, "What took you so long?"

Given her ready-for-action delivery and pose, Paul Conrad took a second or two to collect himself. "...Stuck in traffic," was all his pleasantly surprised expectations could come up with. Anne had slipped into a sky-blue, silk robe, selected from the many accessories hanging in the closet. "Come in."
Paul entered dutifully, closing the door behind him. "I like your hair that way."
Annette's long, straight, blond hair flowed gracefully down to her waist, dancing prettily as she walked and animated her head to achieve a desired effect. Since she had no idea what was going to happen next, Paul's damsel decided to prim at the vanity until her date made the next move. As she sat she said, "Give me a minute, won't you?"
Paul glanced over at the wicker basket, and back at the reflection of his latest fantasy lady in the mirror. They exchanged simultaneous winks. "How long will your husband be away?"
Annette watched him head for the basket and remove his tan, corduroy jacket, which he threw on the bed. "He won't be back till Tuesday."
"Ponytail your hair and take off the robe," said Paul Conrad in a tone of voice more appropriate for the occasion.
'Oh-geeze,' realized Annette when she saw Paul remove a five-foot length of quarter inch nylon rope from the chest. A kinky rush of rapturous excitement compelled her to comply before her binder's reflection reached her side. "Yes-sir."

When his did, she was ready to do anything her current green light might have in mind. "Hands behind your back." Paul knelt while Anne finished up the ponytail, removed the robe from her arms and shoulders, and let it drop to the bench. Her hesitation prompted a stricter tone from her fantasy man. "Behind your back, palms facing."

Anne did what she was told, and felt the sensual caress of rope expertly bind her wrists together. The look on her face in the mirror engendered a 'Wow' as Paul did the cinch tightly, sending a shiver of overwhelming sexual energy racing through his damsel's awareness. 'Oh'mah-gosh,' commented Annette Spalding as her memory raced back to the day, twenty years before, when the experience of being bound by a man first impacted her virgin awareness of things B/D kinky. In the interim, there had been a few other awkward experiences, but none with a perfect stranger. This was her hidden fantasy, the reason she'd relented to the B/D party invitation a good friend had passed on to her: to be bound by a man she'd never met before, in a situation as close to completely foreign to her experience as possible.
"Turn around," said Paul, in a much stricter tone, after securing three tight knots in the wrist configuration.
As she did, Anne tested its ropes and instantly realized there would be no escaping the situation she waited her whole life to explore at the house.

As Barbara awoke from her brief nap, the sensation of having her wrists and ankles separately adorned with padded leather cuffs reminded her awareness of where she was, and why she was there. The subtle soreness between her legs was the next physical perception to make itself known to Barb's slowly rising brain wave activity. 'Now what's happening?' Her question was soon answered when Jackie and her two assistants knotted the ends of four, 3/8ths inch thick lines to the rings in the wrist cuffs and ran them to four other rings embedded in the walls in front and in back of their damsel's now restlessly writhing nakedness. As the slack was removed, Barbara quickly realized she was being spread-eagled, on her stomach, to points on the walls that were a good two feet above the height of the mattress. Her extremities were soon stretched to the limits of their surprised extendedness. 'Oh-boy.'

Before Jackie and friends left their charge to her next deliberation, the air-escape valve on the mattress was covertly opened a smidgen, and Barbara's body completely covered with the comforter. With eyes still closed, her head continued to rest on the pillow. It was only after the door was slammed and locked that she dared to open them.
"Damsel Barbara?" asked John from his headset at the bar.
"...Yes?" She was now breathless with expectation.
The emotionless tone of her master's voice sent a shiver of uncomfortable uneasiness racing up and down Barbara's spine. "Have you decided yet?"
Barbara's ignorance was genuine. "...On what?"
"On how you would like to approach your newfound submissiveness?" John smiled at his damsel's apparent memory loss.
She chose her words carefully, while the faint recollection of her trainer's input during her explosions on the pole surfaced somewhat. "Could you run those options by me again?"

While he did, Paul Conrad finished binding Annette Spalding on the vanity bench, and Jackie changed into a 'come-and-fuck-me' outfit in front of a full-length wall mirror in her room. Skin-tight, black-leather skirt, to within two inches of her crotch; skimpy-red, bare midriff, tank top, and red-leather skyscrapers. No underwear or makeup, and a designer perfume designed to drive the new, already very hot-and-bothered man in her life up every wall in the house. Annette gazed up from her bed, trying desperately to get a handle on what her man was up to as he smiled and stood from the tying of the last knot in her nearly mummified wantonness. The gag was handkerchief stuffing, and strapless red ball, held in by several turns of tightly wound Elastoplast.
John watched from the bar. "The new guy is pretty good."
Chris agreed. "It'll be interesting to see how Jackie handles him."
When Paul reached for his jacket, an uncomfortable thought sped through Anne's thinking. 'Where the hell is he going?'
Her perfect stranger did his lines slowly, and with extreme self-control. "If I had one heterosexual bone in my body, I'd give you the ride of your life..."
The revelation was nothing short of devastating to Annette's expectations.
"...But I have promises to keep, and an impatient bitch waiting for me in the attic, and I don't think either he or I can stand another minute apart... If you're wondering why things worked out the way they did, remember, there are things going on through this network you couldn't possibly fathom. I'm just following orders- nothing personal. All will be made plain to you before the sun comes up." He put on the jacket and sat next to Anne's now-frantically writhing form. Her breasts strained and bulged beautifully from beneath the tight-fitting teddy. Paul could not take his eyes off of them. "May I touch them?"
Annette's fully extended and intricately bound body language cried out for attention. "Mmuhuhuh!"

Paul placed his hand on her stomach, rubbed it a bit, and grabbed the crotch rope gently. His eyes never left his bindee's breasts. "There's just something about a woman's upper body that fascinates me." His delivery was decidedly clinical, while, down below, the hard on beneath his lose-fitting slacks screamed for attention. He pulled on the crotch rope until Anne's body was dragged across the slippery-satin surface of the bed.
"MMMUHUH!" she groaned as the feel of rope pressure made itself known to her wildly excited wetness.
Paul's hand relented when the desired distance was achieved, then gradually moved up Anne's torso and onto her waiting right breast, where he cupped and lightly caressed its heaving vulnerability until his palm started to make a major difference in the sensual disposition of its now-hardened nipple.

Meanwhile, back on Barbara's case, the interrupted nap she had let got to earlier was again cut short by the feel of her body having to adjust to a sensation she'd never experienced before. 'What's happening?' She was wide-awake in seconds with the realization that the tension in her limbs had increased by a good 200%. It soon became obvious to her reasoning that the air mattress had lost half of its sustaining pressure. "Good grief." Her body was now fully stretched to the limits of its outraged potential. "John?" she asked sheepishly. But an answer was not forthcoming. "...John!"

Paul could not resist the temptation to undress Annette's billowing mounds. They were now fully exposed and lifted considerably by the pressure of over-stretched teddy material now pressing firmly under each. He was finding it more and more difficult to leave the room and his 'favor' to her ever-begging passion. But duty called, and he knew Jackie was not the kind of woman one kept waiting if one had a mind to thoroughly incapacitate her unto the kinky vision he'd so carefully and constantly been putting together in his mind's eye since she first caught his discriminating attention. "Why does everything have to happen in bunches?" He commented to the wench in hand.
"Hmm?" was all she could say.
Paul reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out what, at first, appeared to be a tube of toothpaste, which he opened. Annette watched as he squeezed out about an inch-worth of its contents, replaced the cap, and put the new wrinkle in the night's adventure back into his pocket. He was soon smearing equal quantities of the ointment onto Annette's nipples. The remaining residue was applied to whatever part of her crevice to which the five-knotted crotch rope would allow access.
Annette swooned and writhed in her titillated disappointment and confusion, doing her best to deal with a situation that could only be described as impossible. "Mmuhmuhmuhmuh!"
"Don't worry, me beauty," assured Paul Conrad, "the night is generous to damsels of your caliber. I'm sure the powers that be will not be unkind to your uninhibited needs."

Anne watched her green light stand and leave the room, without slamming the door, and wondered, 'What the fuck is going on here?!' She immediately dove into an all-out attempt at escape. Every four inches of her body was either cinched or wrapped with quarter inch nylon line. Any lower body movement had an effect on the knotted rope between her legs, which ran from her waist, in front, to her bound wrists in back, and down to the mid thigh cinch as well. At first, the cream on her nipples and crotch was cool and soothing. It soon turned hot as well, and prickly. 'I feel like a freaking salami. Damn! I did not come here to be sensually tortured.'
No, she hadn't, but she'd also refused to fill out a preference form, which would have given her a good deal more control over the situation than she now had. Anne simply did not wish to tell her hosts more about herself than her pride and caution were willing to divulge, a mistake she now regretted with every twitch, moan and writhing motion she could think of. 'Why didn't I listen to Marnie's advice?' Marnie was the friend who passed on the invitation that placed Anne in her current situation in the first place. It suddenly occurred to her the growing epicenter between her legs was slowly but irreversibly heading in a direction all to familiar to her sensually aggravated awareness. 'Oh-God. If I didn't know better, I'd swear this craziness was about to do something completely different from whah... Oh... Wow....'
John turned to Chris and said, "A buck says he comes back after he gets the best of Jackie."
"You're on."

It took all of Paul's self-control to tear himself away from Anne's writhing passion. Now as he stood at the attic door, contemplating his next move, and wondering what Jackie had in mind, a thought crossed his. 'Why would any woman as spectacular looking as Anne want to be tied up by a gay guy and left alone for God-knows-how-long?'
When Jackie heard the attic door open, she punched off Annette's multiple image on the big screen TV across from the couch from which she stood, placed the remote on the end table to her right, crossed her arms under her 36, double Ds, spread her legs as far as the skirt would allow, in order to establish the dominant side of her persuasion, and dead-panned her pretty features to make as square one a statement as she felt the situation called for.

All 33 candles were burning, and the overhead, 40-watt bulb was out when Paul reached the top of the stairs. The look that passed between he and his next adventure could not have been more benign. "Nice place you have here."
"Works for me," parried Jackie. "Is she resting uncomfortably?"
Paul walked to within a foot of her face. "I hope not. Love your outfit."
"Do you now. Why don't you take off your jacket and get comfortable."
"Why don't you tell me where the gear is."
They exchanged sly grins
"What for?"
"Are you not fit to be tied? You're certainly dressed for it."
Jackie put her hands on Paul's shoulders. The heels gave her a one-inch height advantage. She smiled, with her mouth only, "I'm dom, also."
"...So?"
"So," said John's favorite Mistress-in-training as she walked to the couch, sat, sprawled her arms out on it's black-leather back rest, and crossed her legs, "how's about we see what you've got underneath?"

Paul took a quarter out of his right pants pocket and flipped it into the air. "Are you feeling lucky tonight?" When he caught and slapped it onto the back of his left hand he said, "Call it. Winner decides who's in charge."
Jackie raised her brows a bit and pressed her full, expressive lips together in mock surprise. "And what happens if I lose the toss?"
From the moment Jackie punched off the TV, Annette had been listening to the verbal exchange through the four corner speakers in her room, and staring up at herself in the ceiling mirror above the bed. 'What the fuck is going on here?'
"...Guess," smiled Dom Paul.
Dom Jackie took a deep breath and folded her arms under her breasts again. "Will it be my turn next if I do?"
"OK."
"You call it."
Without hesitating, Paul said, "Heads." and showed George Washington's profile to the latest Damsel in his life.
"Shit," she grimaced as her dominant leg began to dance up and down and the other lights in the room came up to a level that would ensure high definition, video photography.
John broke into the pregnant pause while Paul wondered what the hell was going on. "Mind if we put this on tape?"
Jackie had no choice in the matter. Her new playmate did. He thought a second and said, "Only if I get a copy on DVD before I leave tonight."
"You got it."

The monitor in Annette's room was suddenly filled with what was going on in the attic. By now, she had thoroughly succumbed to the tantalizing sensations only a woman in sensual bondage can truly appreciate. It was obvious Jackie was not going to completely cooperate with the way things had worked out. She watched as her winner removed his jacket and sat down next to her on the couch.
"Kiss me," said Paul Conrad.
Jackie immediately took advantage of her yet-to-be-lost, physical freedom by grabbing her hunk by the face and planting a soft, but passionately sustained kiss on his immediately reciprocating enthusiasm. 'If I can't get him one way, I'll get him another.'
The feel of long, sexy fingers- making love to his face made Paul want to get to the main course as soon as possible. The TV room was suddenly abuzz with low-key crowd noises. Bets were made, attentions peaked, and an air of fun expectation slowed down activity at the bar to a trickle, giving John a chance to attend to Barbara's stretch in the dungeon.

Annette was nuts with kinky abandon, thrashing and rolling around on her bed in a passionate display of inexplicable need. 'Not again?' she wondered as a fit of detached amazement gripped her innards when yet another multiple-to-be press released its coming consummation into the virgin territory of her belated experience. The sight of her, jackknifing frantically, to help things along with crotch rope action, reflected back at Annette in the 8 by 6 mirror above. All she could think was 'This can't be happening.' The action in the attic flashed back at her on the TV in the corner, giving the moment an outrageous contradiction to ponder in the ongoing dilemma of Anne's first experience at the house.

And Barbara asked as he reached the ends of her ropes, "Hey- is anyone out there?... John? Anybody. The air mattress sprung a leak." All but 32 pounds of her body weight were evenly distributed and suspended by the four tethers tied to the wrist and ankle cuffs. As the countdown to 138 pounds continued, so did her realization of the fix, and the possible ramifications thereof. 'These guys play rough... Why the hell do I still want to play?'
The door swung open. John walked in with ball gag in hand. "Make up your mind yet?"
Barbara stared up at her hunk and spoke her mind. "Huh?"
The gag was immediately stuffed into her mouth, and strapped tightly at the nape of the neck. Then the almost empty air mattress was removed and tossed in a corner. Something else replaced it, something Barbara could not see, given the angle her upper body was forced to deal with in relation to how her pussy now stood with regard to the new gizmo directly below it. After John adjusted its height, plugged it in, and turned it on, he walked to the door and gave this order to its sentinel. "Ask her again in about an hour." The door was then slammed and locked.
"Ahnnahnahn!" protested Barbara. 'They're not serious?' ...The wall-to-wall quiet of the room was now subtly underscored by the soft, vibrating sound emanating from a spot directly under her moist and sore pussy. Barbara stopped struggling to listen. When she did, her body relaxed into a more extended and lower elevation, allowing the feel of something hard and hyperactive to lightly caress her once-again-twitching cunt lips. A split second later, and without the slightest hesitation, Barbara did her best to increase the pressure between her and what was obviously some kind of electronic teaser. "Ahnnnnahnnn."

Meanwhile, up in the attic, Paul's self-control was doing all he could to keep from making wild and passionate love to Jackie's uninhibited intentions. The ploy was obvious to all concerned. "What are you doing?" he asked between mouth-watering kisses.
"Taking control," whispered Jackie before grabbing her dom's vitals and bombing him with another medley of seductive reasoning. Since he didn't know where the toy stash was, she figured there was nothing he could do until she told him. He wasn't wearing a tie, either.
Paul considered his options and congratulated himself for having had the foresight to stuff his pockets with a few lengths of rope, taken from the wicker chest, while selecting the ones he used on Annette.
"Are you really going to leave her like that for an hour?" asked Chris in as mocking a tone as he could when John reappeared on station.
"No," smiled Barbara's trainer. "Only until she's finished with whatever she has in mind."

And Jackie thought, when Paul manipulated and pinned her elbows together behind her back, 'OK, sport, now what are you going to do.' The feel of thick rope binding them together instantly wiped the smile off her face as all the doms in the TV room let loose a symphony of "All rights!", "Good moves!" and such for about two and a half seconds. Jackie didn't bother struggling while her wrists were tied, palm-to-palm, and Paul taunted, "You will tell me where the toys are, or suffer the frustrating consequences."
It was soon his heroine's turn to lose control to the building passion now invading her crevice at the speed of light. Jackie's forearms were then lashed to her tiny waist and tightly cinched in back. She felt her winner stand from the couch, watched him walk to the middle of the room, and begin to remove his shirt.
"Where's the toy chest," he said dryly while unbuttoning his right shirt cuff and staring pointedly down at his current, D/s consort.
Jackie looked up at him defiantly. "You find it."

Barbara was now totally lost in her space and circumstance, completely emptied of thoughts concerning school, family, or anything else that might have been on her mind when she entered the house. All she wanted was the feel of whatever it was that John had planted under her now-throbbing pussy. Though she didn't immediately realize it, the weight of her body had been slowly stretching the nylon lines her keepers had chosen to tether her limps to the walls. Add to this simple, but ingenious fix the extent to which her figure was, millimeter-by millimeter, continually stretching and straining for position, and it didn't take more than seven minutes to achieve the desired effect. "AHANNNN! Ahnahnahnahnn!" commented Barbara when the next multiple was within a few minutes of meltdown. 'An hour?! I don't need an hour. Oh-my-Gahahah...!!!'

Paul had stripped down to just his slacks and briefs. The huge bulge in his crotch stared Jackie in the face, just an inch away, as her man stood, with legs spread wide apart, in front of her sitting sexiness. Her ankles had been crossed and bound, her lower thighs tightly secured together as well.
"Where?" asked Paul, softly... OK, have it your way. With that, he grabbed her shoulders, pulled her lips up to his, and took control of her self-control by humping, groping and kissing her madly for the next several minutes. Mistress Olivia watched the heated exchange from her observation post in the TV room.
John interrupted her train of thought with a headset instruction. "I want Barbara in my bed in ten minutes. Don't bind her, just tell Kath and Pat to help you carry her up there."
"Yes, sir, " ten-foured Olivia before thinking, since she had only recently come on duty, 'Who the hell is Barbara?'
"She's in the dungeon," remembered John.
"I'm on my way."

When Paul dropped Jackie back onto the attic couch she was hotter than a firecracker whose fuse was extinguished just before it had a chance to reach silver powder. "Where?"
In a tone of voice that reflected both extreme frustration and betrayed rage, Jackie wondered, "Do I get more of the same if I don't tell you?"
Paul walked to the nearest candle, picked it up, and turned to say, "Ever had your nipples hot-waxed before?"
Jackie squirmed in her uneasiness. "Be careful, stud. Remember, when I'm out of this it will be your turn to answer the same question?"
"I take it you've decided to keep your little secret."
His damsel said nothing.
"Under the couch pillows," informed Chris from the bar.
Paul smiled and said, "Thanks, whoever you are."
"You are more than welcome. The gags are in the chest under the TV."

Annette was resting when her door swung open and Paul appeared with a very bound and gagged Jackie in his arms. The skirt had been removed, and top torn off. He kicked the door closed and walked to the bed. "Wake up, my sweet."
Anne opened her eyes to the sight she never expected to see, and writhed a bit in her lack of understanding.
"Are you married?"
She nodded a 'yes.'
When we were introduced downstairs, were you hoping to get sexually involved?"
'Yes.'
"Then your fantasy did not call for my being gay," clarified Paul.
'No.'
He looked deeply into Jackie's eyes and said, "You've been a very naughty girl." He then looked down at Anne and said, "So have you," before dumping his bundle on the bed and heading for the gear chest.

Jackie's heeled feet had been bound and seriously cinched together with 3/8ths inch line at the insteps. Another line was soon tied to that cinch. It continued up behind her legs to the crotch rope, under which it was threaded and led beck to the knee/thigh cinch, where it was also threaded and pulled through until the heels could go back no further. Three tight knots maintained things. Jackie's heels now almost touched her hands. Of course, all the leg cinches tightened considerably at the calves, knees and thighs.
Paul addressed his next important question to Annette. "Were you expecting someone?"
'No.'
He turned to Jackie and spoke a possible scenario. "I have a feeling someone will show up soon." He scoped the grandfather clock in the corner. "...Say around 1:30?"
Jackie fisted and flared her fingers when a sickening rush of justice filled every fiber of her being. It was 1:21 AM, and the horny, 21-year-old she'd been teasing the shit out of for the past several weeks was due to arrive any minute.
"Have a good one," warned Paul Conrad as he picked Annette up in his arms and carried her to the door.

"Hi, kid," welcomed Chris at the bar. "What can I get you?"
Jackie's terribly teased victim took another look at his wristwatch and ordered, "Uh, orange juice, please."
"One OJ coming up. Would you like something hard in that?" It was 1:35.
"No thanks, I don't do liquor," stipulated Billy Finch. "Can you tell me how to get to guest room 7?"

Before Paul Conrad had left the attic, with Jackie in his arms, he'd checked out the couch to see if it was a convertible. It was. He and Anne were on its opened comfort, watching Jackie's formidable escape attempt on the big screen in front of them, and doing whatever it was they had to do to make the best of their situation. Its 33 candles generated the only other light in the room. Annette was now naked and bound to the bed, her wrists crossed and lashed together, and tethered to its head, her legs spread wide apart and tethered to the framework. Paul was extracting another palm-full of icy-hot ointment from the tube in his jacket pocket. Ball gagged as she was, all his bondage-curious damsel could do was wait and watch Jackie on TV, and her Greek god, who was also naked, 'live.' Once again, the cream felt good, going on...

Part Six

Billy Finch's experience with real time bondage began and ended with two sessions, in the back of his red van, on two consecutive nights, with an ex girlfriend. Both encounters were brief and awkward, but the less-than-desired results did much to convince him that he had a lot to learn about how to handle a woman's bondage curiosities. Both he and his novice damsel were 15 at the time.

Jackie's teasing ways had been priming him incessantly since the night they first made eye contact, giving her new conquest abundant, but misguided reason to believe he would someday enjoy the pleasure of thoroughly binding and appreciating her uncommonly kinky nature. What he didn't know, given their age difference, and his painfully obvious lack of practical experience, was that she had no intention of letting him have his fantasy-driven way with her. Jackie's weakness for Ryan O'Neal types with hard bodies made it an absolute shoe-in that if anyone was going to get tied up and teased to distraction, it would be the 21-year-old hunk with the big-brown eyes, the '99 Corvette, and the cute little smile John's latest trainee was bound and determined to wipe off Billy's perennially haphazard features.

Three knocks on the door to guest room seven interrupted Jackie's second intense escape attempt. As the door swung open, an autonomic tug on the crotch rope caused a flood of over-the-top, orgasmic energy to overwhelm her already gushing vitals. The sight of Billy Finch's boyish persona was all it took to trigger the first bondage multiple. Since its commanding insistence could neither be avoided nor controlled, Jackie decided to let go completely to the situation, regardless of how diametric it was to her foiled agenda. Her dumbfounded 'conquest' closed the door behind him and stepped gently into the room, without once diverting his gaze from the spectacular sight of Jackie's beautifully bound and constructed body on the bed. Billy's jaw dropped, his erection pressed hard against the under and outerwear surrounding it, and an out-of-control short circuit of sorts erupted from within the deepest reaches of his psychosexual innards. 'Radical.'
Jackie's sensual convulsions screamed for attention, begging uninhibitedly for the touch of her unwitting date's fingers on her hardened nipples. "Mmmuh!"

Without hesitation, or conscious deliberation, Billy moved to the right side of the bed and sat on its hard, silky surface, his eyes wide with wonder, his heart pounding with unreasonable excitement. Jackie's multiple continued without mercy as she breathed deeply to expand her enticing chest, doing her best to snake her way closer to Billy's peaking astonishment. His date's frantic body language spoke volumes to the moment's madness, compelling Mr. Finch to reach out and grab hold of Jackie's left nipple with the thumb and index fingers of his right hand. His mouth followed quickly, engulfing his captive's swanlike neck in a teasing barrage of delicate caresses, hot breathing, and passionate kisses.
"Muhmuhmuh." appreciated Billy's first 'unwilling' damsel as the spasms and pleasurable writhing exploded spectacularly against the outer cutting edges of both their experiences. A long tug on the crotch rope compounded Jackie's pleasure to a level it rarely reached, giving her date a taste of power he'd never realized before.
His first words were "like that, do you?"
"MMMMUHUHUH!!!" Jackie closed her eyes and relished every delicious nuance in the classic symphony of her bridled passion.
Billy's softly spoken utterances were pointedly designed to make certain his thrashing damsel would continue to expand the volcanic horizon of her experience, too. "Don't worry, bitch, you're gonna get everything that's coming to you." A tug on the crotch rope punctuated the clich'. "All ten inches of it."

Meanwhile, back in the attic, Anne's thrashing frustration did its best to capture the attention of her new playmate, who, for the last several seconds, had been standing, naked, in front of the room's monster TV screen, with his hardness in hand, and a complete disregard for his damsel's frantic gyrations. He was, however, taking in every moan and groan she uttered from behind the gag in her gorgeous, ready-for-anything mouth. A vibrating dildo was inserted where it would do the most good, controlled by a remote that Paul held in his free hand. Whenever the action on screen intensified, the press of a button shifted the much-appreciated device into its next highest gear, of which there were four. The icing on Annie's cake was the ointment her date had so liberally and specifically smeared on parts of his damsel's body that seemed the most vulnerable to its itching, prickly, temperature swings.
"MMMUHUHUH!" Screamed Anne when her tolerance and temper cried out for a more definitive consideration.
"Be patient, my sweet," assured Paul. "The night has hours to go, and I'm in no hurry to make any premature decisions."
Billy Finch had just stepped away from Jackie's last spasm. While unbuttoning his shirt, he said, "It's show time."
Paul pressed the speed bump on the remote to shift the dildo into 4th gear.
Annette screamed at the top of her lungs to get his attention, for the two inch thick, rough surfaced pussy prodder had, thanks to her undulating impatience, and the lubrication of both the ointment and her own bodily fluid, all but slipped out of its gushing counterpart, and was but 2 inches away from dropping onto the soaked sheets below. "MMMMUHUHUHUH!!!"

Barbara Gwenn was asleep on the bed in John's room, dreaming of things kinky, and doing her best to keep from waking from an adventure that had inspired her moistened tunnel to once again take uninhibited control of the evening's outrageous partying. Her trainer lay beside her, also naked, and delightfully focused on his damsel's subtly undulating facial expressions. A tiny smile graced his face. The evening had been an unqualified success. Almost everyone had gotten what he or she came for, and not one negative incident had the spirit of the party. Hundreds of feet of videotape was ready for edit, and Billy Finch had, at last, come to terms with Sub/Dom Jackie.
"John?" whispered Barbara, when her sensual hunger forced consciousness to invade the moment.
"Right here, milady."
Her eyes popped open, took a few seconds to focus and clear, and went wide with wonder. "Where am I?"
"Where you were always meant to be. Are you hungry?"
Barbara Gwenn smiled and spoke the first thought that came to mind. "Depends on what the menu has to offer." They kissed gently... "Mmmm. I like the way you cook. What's the main course?"
Before John's lady could enjoy another bite, she was roughly rolled over onto her stomach. Within a matter of seconds, her wrists were crossed and tightly bound together behind her back with several turns of thick, nylon rope. She closed her eyes, laid her cheek down on the silky surface of the mattress, and asked, "When do I get to tie you up?"

The end

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16.12.03