They say that opposites attract. That’s certainly true in my marriage. Anna is level headed, organized, a planner. I’m an impulsive dreamer with half my existence in a fantasy world. For all of that, we’ve managed to find our way through many years of marriage.
One of our biggest challenges has been my love of bondage. I’ve never really been able to adequately explain to her why I love seeing her tied up. I guess I never will. But she’s been good about humoring me so long as I don’t go over the top with things.
Our bondage games have followed an arc. Before kids it was a pretty regular occurrence. With kids in the house it became a rarity, usually confined to hotel rooms or when the kids were away at summer camp. I was more than happy to pay that fee! After the kids moved out things picked up again, although not like when we were in our twenties.
But then I turned sixty. Something changed. Anna was reluctant to play. When I finally cajoled her into trying out some new equipment I’d put together she said something that startled me. I was about to release her from the leather cuffs when she said, “Wait, I have to see if I can do this myself.” She then proceeded to wriggle her wrist out of the leather cuff.
Anna loves to slip out of my restraints. It’s a bit annoying, really. She’ll complain that a rope or strap is too tight. Then when she decides she’s had enough she’ll slip out with a smug look on her face. It’s not very fair. But it’s the price I pay.
The “I have to see if I can do this by myself” comment nagged at me. Was it a question of trust after all this time? I thought about it for a few days before I came up with a plausible answer. We were on the way home from visiting my oldest when I raised the question. Was she afraid something was going to happen to me during one of our sessions, leaving her helpless?
The answer was “Yes.” A couple years ago I’d started with some PVCs (premature ventricular contractions). The docs said it was nothing to worry about. But in Anna’s mind I was living on borrowed time. In her mind I could go “tits up” while she was spread-eagle on the bed, leaving her helpless and alone. Damn that Stephen King!
So this put me in a funk. Was I truly too old to play? Left with the dreaded “platonic” marriage? As I said before, she’s the planner. But I’ve got imagination to spare. And I directed it to my new found problem.
What if my focus was wrong? I don’t mean ‘throw away the toys and just cuddle’ wrong. But maybe inescapable bondage for sex wasn’t what we both needed? What if the object was for her to escape? Hey, I thought, people pay good money to get locked in a room they have to escape.
I went to work on the idea. The focus would have to be on leather and chains. The only way to escape tight ropes was by cutting them or working the knots loose. That didn’t sound workable. But locks need keys. And getting the keys could make for some interesting challenges.
After working out the details I pitched the idea to Anna. Since I’m not the most articulate when I’m excited I wrote it out as a proposal. All she needed to do was give me a yes or no. I left her the note with a bouquet of flowers (can’t hurt) and waited. After a few anxious hours she came to me with the answer I was hoping for. I was ecstatic! I was back in the game, but it would be a new game.
Saturday night Anna retreated to the bathroom for a soak in the tub. She emerged an eternity later dressed in a red satin chemise. She looked at the gear I had laid out on the bed and gave me a skeptical look. “I’m supposed to escape all that,” she asked sarcastically?
I reminded her that it was an escape “challenge”. There had to be some level of difficulty to it to make it work. But it was definitely doable. I promised her that if she couldn’t escape in fifteen minutes I’d release her and we’d rethink things. She reluctantly agreed.
I led her to the side of the bed, asking her to stand as I passed a double loop of nylon rope around her waist. I knotted it in front of her before putting several overhand knots in the line, one of them high up, one right about at her clit and one at the perineum. I passed the rope between her legs and tied it off at the small of her back.
I stopped my preparations long enough to run my hand down between her legs while I pulled her in for a kiss. Her hand slipped down to find me quite excited about the evening. She made a comment about the crotch rope getting in the way of things. I told her that she had to escape to earn that reward.
Breaking out embrace I asked for her hands. On each wrist I buckled a leather cuff. Anna winced as I tightened the buckles. “That’s a little tight,” she complained. I told her that it was one notch tighter than when she slipped out of the cuffs last time.
I took a three inch length of chain and passed it through the crotch rope above the first knot. Pushing her hands towards her waist I padlocked each of the cuffs to the chain. Without the key her hands would remain firmly attached to the crotch rope.
Stopping long enough to give her another kiss I gently pushed her to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. I grabbed a long leather strap. Passing it around her torso and below her breasts I cinched it tight, pinning her upper arms. A second strap went above her breasts, also cinched tight. I finished her off with a short strap running down between her breasts. It cinched the two longer straps together, framing her breasts in satin and leather.
I had more to do. But I couldn’t resist those bound breasts. I guided her down until she was lying on her back, moving her legs up onto the bed. I straddled her before reaching down to fondle her breasts. Her breathing quickened. I watched with delight as her nipples puckered, pressing against the red satin of her nightie. Part of me (the lower part) wanted to untie the crotch rope and take her right there. But cooler “heads” prevailed. Giving her a quick kiss I slipped off to finish her bondage.
Crossing her ankles, I bound them with a short leather strap. A slightly longer strap went just below her knees, another just above. A final strap was placed high up on her thighs, just below her hips and hopefully out of the reach of her cuffed hands.
With her tightly bound I moved on to setting up the escape. I picked up a small sports drink bottle. Around the outside was fifteen feet of thin nylon cord. I uncoiled the cord, tying one end to her ankle strap. The other end was tied around the bottle.
Inside the bottle was a mass of black ribbon, about five feet with the padlock key at the end. I tossed the bottle on the floor. Anna would have to twist around to get the cord and pull the bottle up on the bed. After that she would unscrew the lid and fish out the key to her cuffs. I didn’t think it would take her the allotted fifteen minutes.
Anna twisted in the restraints, eager to begin. “Can I start now?” she asked.
“After a couple more things,” I said. I held up a ball gag and got a dirty look in response.
“Not necessary,” she said, shortly.
“But sexy,” I replied as I pressed the ball to her mouth. With a sigh she opened her mouth and let me push the ball past her teeth. She balked as I tightened it, telling me “Hoo hight.” I loosened it a notch, warning her if she spit it out it would have to be tighter.
The final part of the challenge was a little hand held vibrator. I pressed it down between her bound thighs. Working my fingers up towards her pussy I split the lines of the crotch rope. Ignoring her whine of protest (that’s why the gag went in first) I tucked the head of the vibrator between the ropes at the base of her slit. I pushed the button several times until I found a pattern I liked.
I leaned over to kiss her gagged mouth. Stepping back I picked up my phone. “Timers on,” I said as I clicked the phone, “let’s see you escape.”
Anna is single minded when she wants to do something. Her first move was to get rid of the vibrator. It was not only pressing against her skin but vibrating the entire crotch rope. That was (I hoped) going to be a major distraction for her.
She reached her cuffed hands down to her pussy. The three inches of chain allowed her fingers to just brush the head of the vibrator. But the body of the little toy was lodged between her thighs. It was out of her reach until she freed her hands. With an exasperated sigh she moved on.
Knowing that her only course was to get the key Anna tried for the cord attached to her ankles. She tried sitting and pulling her knees up. But with her hands fastened at her waist there was no way she could reach her ankles. Plus folding up her body like that pulled the knots of the crotch ropes hard against her dampening sex.
“Arrgh,” she growled through her gag.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her thigh. “It’s a long cord,” I hinted. “Try grabbing it someplace else.”
After a moment’s thought she realized that she’d have to move her body down to the cord where it ran across the bed. Using her feet and shoulders she began turning herself on the bed. She would need to turn herself about ninety degrees before her hands reached the bottle’s leash.
She made it about halfway there when the vibrator really started to distract her. Twisting around was causing the crotch rope to do great work on her labia. The chest straps were also squeezing her breasts with every move of her shoulders. I watched with growing arousal as her body went rigid, her breath rushing in and out around her ball gag.
Anna seemed to will herself not to cum. I think she was hoping to hold back until after she escaped for me to be inside her. She didn’t want to be forced to cum by some rope and a vibrator.
As for me, I was hard as a rock. My inner voice was telling me to untie her crotch rope and take her right there. But this was too good a show to jump to the end. I lightly stroked myself, waiting for her to get going again.
With a grunt (not a very ‘damsel in distress’ sound) she resumed her journey to the key. She threw herself into every move, seemingly racing to her goal before her body succumbed to the little vibrator. Her breasts stood out firm and hard against the tight bodice of her chemise, her erect nipples showing clearly through the fabric.
When her fingers reached the cord she gave out a triumphant “Hah”. Her fingers went to work, frantically pulling the bottle across the floor. As she pulled up the bottle Anna let out a little whimper. Apparently her body had reached a tipping point of arousal. She closed her eyes and curled herself into a ball, trying to force down the sensation building between her legs.
She might as well have tried to stop the incoming tide. She twitched and groaned as she climaxed, coming out of her fetal position and arching her back. Her hands held the bottle in a death grip.
As soon as the orgasm had passed she was back at work. She struggled a bit with the top of the bottle (I may have put it on a little tight). But with the cover off she slipped a finger in to catch hold of the ribbon inside.
The black ribbon proved to be more of a challenge for her than Anna thought it would be. If she pulled too fast it would ball up and jam in the mouth of the bottle. Then she had to push it back down and try to tease out the tangle.
By the time she retrieved the key she was sweating. Her hips twisted, apparently trying to keep the vibrator from pushing her sexual buttons again.
As she inserted the key in the first padlock I wondered what she would remove first. She hated the gag. But the crotch rope had been her nemesis throughout her escape. Which would it be?
I smiled as she reached down between her thighs to pull out the little vibrator. She tossed it away from her like it was a snake. It bounced on the bed, still happily buzzing to itself. The gag came next, with a rope of saliva trailing.
I watched as Anna slipped the chest straps off. By the time she had freed her ankles I was out of my shorts. When the crotch rope came off we were both more than ready to finish our ‘escape challenge’.
We lay on the bed, enjoying the afterglow of good sex. The room looked like a bomb had gone off in the sex toy department. Ropes and straps lay scattered on the floor. Anna let out a sigh of contentment. As I held her in my arms I was already thinking what the next challenge could be.