She came back from the kitchen with in her hands two glasses of red wine, but also over her shoulders a gorgeous mohair shawl. A shiver went through my whole body as she had taken me by surprise with this suddenly so much richer appearance. She must have noticed my little shock, because a twinkle came in her eyes as she settled down on the other end of the sofa. After putting down the glasses in front of us she let her fingers go through the soft wool and said: “Isn’t this beautiful?”
I agreed and could feel that I blushed briefly. She didn’t seem to notice, but took her glass and we clinked on the occasion of this first time for me in her nice apartment. I still remember how special it was when we met the first time, a week or so ago. How soon and easily had we started talking so gently about so very personal things! And my soft spot for mohair had been one of the subjects. She obviously had remembered, or was it mere coincidence? Whatever, this shawl made her even more attractive to me than she had been already.
“Do you want to feel how soft it is?” Again I agreed and when she offered one end to me I noticed it was not just a single-layer shawl but was actually knit round, as a tube. I could not resist putting my one hand inside it to feel the prickly warmth around my fingers and over my wrist. With my other had I briefly went over the soft surface. I even brought the shawl to my cheek for a second and let it pass my lips before giving it back to her.
“Yes, it really is sensational”, I said.
“What do you mean by that”, she asked immediately and her eyes were sharply focused on mine.
“Now, I mean that this simple thing, this snakelike shawl of yours, seems to be arousing all my senses: feeling its warmth and tickle, seeing the light through the thin edges and just imagining the other senses seems to put me on”, was my spontaneous reply.
And she smiled. “Shall we play a bit with it”, she then asked. “You could choose right now: either I let you feel it on both of your arms, or I push it over your head. What about that?” She laughed and stretched the shawl between her two arms, with one of the openings towards me.
This proposal overwhelmed me and for a while I didn’t know what to say. I blushed and took a big sip from my glass of wine. Then I noticed that both options could have been great but actually were not immediately feasible. For the one I would first have to untie my sleeve links and tuck up my sleeves and for the other I’d have to put off my spectacles. After a while, I decided to make it her problem and said: “Actually, I wouldn’t mind feeling your great shawl both over my face and over my arms, how about that?”
But no, she was strict and said: “Either one, or the other, it is up to you!”
The choice was difficult, but after a while I did start rolling my sleeves and then held my hand towards her.
“You are a great boy”, she said while she immediately pulled one end of the shawl over my one arm and the other over the other. My hands were meeting nicely in the middle, “May I…?” was the next thing she said, while she quickly tied a string around my wrists, not even waiting for my reply. Then she sat down again in her corner and offered me my glass. I took at and realised how clumsy I now suddenly had become while trying to get it to my mouth, that combination of tickly wool, cool glass and the fluid that should not spill. But I managed!
“And how does it feel, my sweetie?” She watched me from her corner, relaxed after that quick little action; and obviously enjoying my somewhat helpless position. I started to feel a bit uneasy now, but thoroughly enjoyed the prickly warm feeling on my hands and arms. Actually, I wished I could feel the same all over my body. As if she could read my thoughts she then asked me with her gentle smile: “Please tell me: what is your main desire at this moment? Don’t think long, but give your spontaneous answer!”
Without hesitation I said that I’d like to feel this all over my body.
“Oh, that’s quite something. I am not sure I can do that, but why don’t you ask me in your humblest possible way? Your hands are folded already, you could be praying to me, so that’s a good start!” And again she smiled in a most reassuring way.
What else could I do, but to go down from the sofa and on my knees in front of her and ask with my hands in prayer: “Please, all over my body, just like this, please Madam!”
For a while, she kept looking at me, contemplating? Then she stood up, went to the cupboard and came back with a pair of scissors in one hand and a bunch of beautiful mohair in the other. “Okay, I’ll do it, because you asked me so gently. This soft heap in my arms will get you some way. But let me first take off your glasses.” So she did, while standing behind me, allowing her mohair to play with my face in the process.
Before I realised she pulled some of it down over my head. I realised this was a balaclava and a very tight one as well. It felt really nice and warm and more prickly than I could imagine. I was thrilled even though (or was it because?) I couldn’t see anything any more and I randomly wavered around with my tied hands. Then something very strange happened: her scissors went into my sweater and shirts. In a few minutes she had cut them to pieces and half stripped me. Wherever she could she rubbed my skin with another piece of mohair, so I didn’t notice the cold. It all went very quickly. She then started unzipping and quickly pushing down my trousers.
“Waugh!” I heard her say. “You really are MY sweetie now and I can see you like it. Why don’t you take off your shoes yourself and get rid of your trousers and underpants before I have to apply my pair of scissors on those as well”.
I agreed that this would be a pity. But it was not an easy job to do that with my hands tied together and not seeing what I was doing. From the warmth of my soft hood I managed in a reasonable time. She then told me to sit down on the floor and hold out my feet as she had some “nice and warm long socks for me”.
Yes, they were warm indeed and as soft as what I had around my arms and on my head. I enjoyed that, until I noticed, as with the arms, that my feet were meeting in the middle of what proved to be one long tube instead of a pair of socks. Within no time she had cuffed my ankles the same way as my wrists. This is when I realised for the first time I was really getting into trouble. Now I used all my strength to free myself but to no avail. The strings were strong and her knots were holding well.
“Ai, little sweetie of mine, yes, go on and show me how strong you are. But feel free to surrender once you realise you just aren’t strong enough. With me you’re in good hands”, she said while she turned my hood a little so that my mouth was facing its one and only opening. She kissed my lips and then left me to struggle with my outfit until I was hot and exhausted. In the end, as my sign of surrender, I lied down on my back with my arms above my head. Then I felt her weight on top of me and knew I was going to remain her toy, her melting sweetie until my end.
Oker
07.02.07