“Now that explains a lot of things!” exclaimed Mandy as we sat in the sun on the steps of the College Library.
“What does?” I asked.
“Dreary’s Dad’s a holy man.” She replied pointing to a middle-aged man in Salvation Army uniform who was walking across the Green with Deirdre Macklin - a girl in our year who had the nickname Dreary.
As the pair of them looked so alike and had the same walk there was little doubt that the man was either her father or some close relation.
“I suppose that’s why she looks like she buys all her clothes from the Salvo’s Op Shop and why she never joins in any of the fun on campus.” Mandy went on. “Have you ever got through to her?”
I said that I had tried but all I got was a smile and a short, polite but non-committal reply.
“You know, she’s no beauty but she’s not all that bad looking - she could make herself quite attractive if she ever wore some make-up, did her hair and stopped wearing such dowdy clothes. Until she does, I reckon she’ll be stuck with the name Dreary.” I added.
By this time Dreary and the man had disappeared into the distance and Mandy and I were once again thumbing through the notes from the afternoon’s lecture trying to fathom out how we were going to finish our next assignment by a week on Thursday.
The next morning I fronted up for a tutorial having left Mandy at home with a headache - or more correctly a hangover after the party the night before. As it happened Dreary came and sat next to me, said a polite “Good Morning”, pulled out her books and got down to work. I wanted to ask her about the man we saw her with the previous day but wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. So to break the ice I asked her if she knew anything about the topic that Mandy and I were doing for our next assignment.
“Not much,” she said, “But I have some books back in the apartment that I think have something on it. You can borrow them if you like.”
This was too good an opportunity to miss. Not only would I get some information for our assignment but also I would get a peep inside Dreary’s private world.
“Oh that’s great. When can I pick them up?” I asked.
“Walk back with me at lunchtime, my place is only a couple of blocks from here.” She replied hardly looking up from the notes she was writing.
Lunchtime could not come quick enough but eventually the pair of us set off down the hill to where Dreary lived. It was not a very grand place; in fact it was rather run down and was in keeping with the rest of her dreary image.
“Take a pew or get yourself a cup of coffee while I dig out the stuff you want, it’s around here somewhere.” With that she went into what I found out later was her bedroom and started to rummage though the books on the bookshelves and then through some more in a big box on the floor. While I was waiting I noticed the lamp on the occasional table near the settee. Its base was a naked lady who was gagged and in tight bondage. This seemed out of keeping with what we knew about Dreary. Then I noticed that amongst the books and magazines on the table were a couple of old ‘Bondage Life’ mags - including the 1st issue that has now become very much a collector’s item. I didn’t hear her come back into the room and was taken by surprise when she said, “Are you into bondage?”
“Er, yes,” I stammered, realising that I was flushed with embarrassment at being caught out thumbing through one of her bondage magazines.
“Are you?” I asked. She nodded.
Now that the ice was broken I went on to say that I hadn’t realised that she was into this sort of thing and asked her if she had ever belonged to UniTie, the College Bondage Club.
Her reply of “No, they’re all amateurs, but do you?” was even more surprising - so much so that all I could bring myself to say was to stammer another, “Er, yes.” You wait until Mandy hears about this I thought!
I was intrigued, what did she mean, “… they’re all amateurs …”? I was about to ask her but before I could, she went on to say that she was into Shibari. She saw the puzzled look on my face and before I could ask her what Shibari was, she told me that it was Japanese and the World’s most exquisite form of bondage - what Ikebana is to flower arranging so Shibari is to bondage. From my reactions it was obvious that I was one of the “… they’re all amateurs …” group.
“So you’ve never tried it. How about I give you a little demonstration?”
Ye Gods! Ten minutes ago I was chatting to our Dreary convinced that she was one of the World’s most boring and dowdy people, now she was offering to tie me up using the World’s most exquisite form of bondage. Did her Salvation Army Dad know about this?
“Well, do you want me to show you the ropes? You won’t regret it.” Her voice seemed more insistent now. “Well do you?”
“OK” I said at last, “But I’ve got to be leaving by five as I’ve got another lecture tonight.”
“No problem. That gives us almost four hours - and if you really enjoy it you may think it worthwhile skipping tonight’s lecture. You get your gear off while I fetch some rope.” With that she went back into the bedroom. It was not long before she came back with a great armful of rough looking hemp rope.
“Come on, all off - that includes your panties.”
I dropped my panties on top of my other clothes that were now heaped on the settee.
“Let’s start with your body. Arms up.” With that she began to weave a rope body harness starting at my neck and slowly working her way down first above my tits, then below them, then even tighter round my waist before pulling the ends between my thighs to form a crotch rope.
“Now turn round and put your arms behind your back.”
This time she began by tying and cinching my wrists with my hands palm to palm. Then she wove a rope harness round my arms ending up by passing the ropes over my shoulders and under my armpits before tying them off between my shoulder blades. Next she undid the crotch rope she had tied off at my waist and looped the ends over my wrist ties before pulling them back between my legs. She made sure that the ropes were snug in against my clit before pulling them real tight and tying them off at my waist. Gawd, they were almost cutting me in half.
“Come and have a look at yourself. I think you’ll agree that you not only feel great but look great too.” She led me into her bedroom and stood me in front of a full-length mirror.
“OK, enough self admiration for one day, let’s finish you off.”
I thought we were going back to the lounge room but she led me through the kitchen and out on to her enclosed balcony. She got me to sit on the floor and then frog-tied my legs, binding each ankle to my thighs. The roughness of the hemp rope could really be felt as she pushed the ends between my ankles and thighs to cinch the frog-ties. Somehow she got my ankles crossed one over the other and tied them together. In this position my knees were spread and I could no longer get my thighs together.
She went back into the apartment to get even more rope. She took a piece about 6 feet long and made a huge round knot in the middle of it and then said, “Come on, open wide, you must be well gagged.” With that she stuffed the knot between my teeth and wound the ends of the rope round my head tree times before tying them off at the back of my neck. The knot was bigger than any ball gag that I had ever had stuffed into my mouth. As she had promised, I really was “…well gagged.”
I must be a slow learner for it was only then that I realised why she had taken me out on the balcony -there was a large steel ring set into the ceiling immediately above my head. She stood on a chair and hooked a pulley on to the ring. Then she a tied rope to my body harness between my shoulder blades, passed it over the pulley, looped it down again to my body harness at the waist then up again over the second wheel of the pulley. You can guess what came next - yes, she tugged on the rope and pulled me up off the floor. She pulled again and again until I was suspended about four feet in the air with my body dangling at an angle of 45 degrees. When she was satisfied with my position she tied the loose end of the rope round my ankles.
Then she started to work on my nipples rubbing each one between her thumb and forefinger until they were hard. When she was satisfied that they’d get no harder she tied a short length a twine tightly around each one
“Now that only took a little over half an hour, so you’ve got another 3 hours to hang there and enjoy your first taste of Shibari. While you’re doing that I’m going to try and finish off the assignment that’s due in tomorrow.” She went back inside the apartment and left me just hanging there. Although the ropes were rough and they were pulled so tight that they cut into my flesh all over my body, the overall effect was that I felt like I was in a cocoon. However, the ropes cutting into the crack of my bum, my pussy and pressing hard against my clit were the focus my attention. I could hardly move a muscle so there was no way that I could relieve the pressure or get out of this predicament before Dreary returned - which she seemed in no hurry to do.
It was then that I realised that I was dangling in front of the large window that ran the length of the second floor balcony. I was probably in full view of anyone who looked out of the windows of the nearby apartments. I couldn’t see any prying eyes at the moment. Perhaps the apartment blocks were far enough away so that no one would notice me. She could have at least drawn the curtains before she left me hanging there.
Eventually Dreary returned. “Had enough?” she asked. “Or would you like another hour or two?” I shook my head; I had had enough for one afternoon.
It took her nearly as long to undo all the knots and remove the ropes as it did to tie me up. At last I was free but I had a great collection of rope marks all over my body to show for Dreary’s afternoon’s work.
“We’ll have to do this again,” said Dreary, as I was about to leave. “There are lots of other interesting positions that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”
It was almost 5 before I got back to our place. As I walked in the door Mandy greeted me with, “Where have you been, you haven’t forgotten that we’re due out and we’re already running late?”
“Now you just won’t believe what I did this afternoon.” I didn’t get any further as Mandy chimed in with: “From the look of those rope marks I can guess.”
“Shut up a minute Mandy, let me finish. You haven’t heard the best part - you know our most boring person, Dreary, …”.
Well you all know the rest of the story so I need not go.
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05.04.06