Michelle's First Time by John Roper
Part Two
Michelle woke from a short nap and immediately felt horny again. I was on the phone with Kat.
“Will do,” was all our slightly disoriented damsel consciously gleaned from our conversation after the sound of the phone being hung up popped her eyes open.
She was on her side, on the bed, her left cheek buried in a pillow. Another, one-size-smaller ball gag hung from her neck. She was still bound as before, with nipple tether and crotch rope still in place.
The first thing she saw was herself in the mirror, then me opening the closet door and reaching into her coat pocket for the VHS tape Kat had given her in the lobby of the hotel before saying, “Well, you’re on your own. I hope you enjoy the video. Have fun.”
Only 40-minutes had past since I’d initially bound her wrists, though it seemed longer to Michelle as she squirmed a bit to get my attention and once again appreciate her bondage as she asked, “What’s happening?”
I was still in my cords, T-shirt and shoes. “You’re happening, Dubois. Are you ready for part two?”
The window drapes were drawn closed. Only the TV on the dresser in front of the bed illuminated the room with “Wheel Of Fortune,” sound of.
I slipped the tape into the player and disengaged the mute. “Well?”
Michelle tried to think, but, as before, the magic of the moment had taken over. “Part two?”
“The tape Kat made for you; the one you’re going to watch while I take care of some business.”
Michelle watched as I put on my shirt, then remembered that she wanted to be left alone in bondage, a fantasy she had always tried to fulfill when embarking on failed, self bondage attempts. ‘The agreement’ clearly called for that.
“Oh,” was all my suddenly restive damsel could come up with when she realized the teasing was still not over. “…Then what?”
I smiled. “Don’t you like surprises?”
With that, I jumped up onto the mattress, grabbed the collection of rope between Michelle’s upper arms, dragged her to the foot of the bed and laid her down on her stomach. Her nipple-tethered breasts hung off the edge.
I had already secured a line to the frame under and at the head of the bed. I ran its end under and between Michelle’s calves, without tying it off.
Her concern was well hidden. “What are you doing?”
I said nothing as I pulled the first-timer forward until her waist reached the end of the bed, then, to prevent and forward movement, tied the line to her ankle cinch.
The wrinkle more than piqued her curiosity as she quickly realized the wickedness of the fix. “Please tell me.”
Another line secured the ropes around her waist to the frame at the foot of the bed, making it impossible to move in any direction. If she chose to, hanging her head upside down off the mattress edge would be the full extent of her mobility. However, if she did, thanks to the wrist tether configuration, the five-knot crotch rope and wrist cinch would tighten considerably.
“That should give your abs a workout,” I suggested before straddling Michelle’s upper legs and tying the base of her pinkies together with 4 tight turns of thin cinched line, leaving about 4-feet of slack.
I then moved forward until my ass was directly above her bound wrists, grabbed a handful of hair, pulled her head back, and stuffed her mouth with face cloth. The ball gag served to hold it in.
“Head down,” I said, before pulling on the gag’s belt strap and notching it to the max.
“Muh,” moaned Michelle as the fire between her legs flared up another click or two.
“Just want to make sure you don’t draw any undue attention before I return,” I explained as I tightly wrapped turn after turn of 4-inch wide Ace bandage around her lower face.
“MUHMUH!”
“Thought you’d like that.,” I chided while setting up a camera angle, turning on its small area light , rolling tape and jumping back onto the bed. The TV rounded out the subtle lighting effect.
I then ran the pinky cinch tether line up under all the collected turns of Ace bandage in the back of Michelle’s neck and started pulling out the slack.
“Lift your head as far back as it will go. I want to make sure you can see the video whenever you like.”
Michelle had no idea what was going to happen next, so she did as she was told.
“Further back,” I challenged.
Another two inches of altitude were soon locked in when I drew out all the slack in the pinky-to-bandage tether and knotted it off.
“MMUHUHMUHUH!”
I reached for the remote, pressed ‘play,’ and said, “Later,” before leaving the hotel room and Michelle to a more intense version of her ‘tied-up-alone’ fantasy-come-true.
The first thing she did was test the limitations of the simple but very affective bind. ‘Good GRIEF!’
The raising of her head had seriously increased the gag pressure and did all sorts of unprecedented things to her pinkies. A glance to her left reflected the fix in the closet mirror, sending more sexual outcome to her pussy and a whole new world of speculation to her severely overtaxed thinking.
Just then, I came back and said, “Woops- almost forgot,” before pulling a ten-ounce fishing sinker from my pocket and, using a large paper clip, hanging it from the center of the nipple tether line.
I was back out the door in a flash, just as the first video image appeared onscreen. It was that of a very naked, very tied up and ball-gagged damsel, writhing crazily in her super-tight, wickedly demanding, hair-to-ankle hogtie, on a cement floor, illuminated by the natural spotlight effect coming through a basement window.
‘Holy shit,’ commented Michelle as the heat between her upper thighs married the indescribable sensations the sinker was generating in her nipples, and another countdown escalated onward and towards the second, major, bondage orgasm of the evening.
Michelle did her best not to stimulate herself, hoping the zero of that countdown didn’t come as quickly as it usually did when she played by herself.
‘GEEEEEEZE!!!’
Since I had not given her any idea as to when I would return, all Michelle could count on was that, as her specifications had documented, she would be alone no less than 20-minutes.
‘Why in the hell did I not specify ‘no longer than’ too.’
Another 2-minutes of bondage video did much to convince Michelle she was in way over her head, as far as finding fun bondage kinks to hang with was concerned. She’d also never seen a bondage video before.
Thanks to the crotch rope, hogtie connection, the damsel in the damp and dingy basement started to climax, and continued doing so for several seconds before something even more unexpected happened.
“Hi Mish.”
She opened her eyes, which she’d closed just a few seconds earlier to help un-stimulate herself, and, low and behold, on the TV screen, was a medium close-up of Kat.
“Having fun?”
“Hummm?”
“Enjoying the first episode of the video mix I made you? Hope so.”
Michelle was beside herself with disorientation. ‘This is TOO weird.’
“I know you’d rather keep watching the bitch in the basement, but since you have no choice, and what I am about to tell you will probably add a few more titillating, emotional layers to your adventure, well, here’s what’s really happening.”
The word ‘really’ is what grabbed Michelle’s innards, for she’d always held a modicum of suspicion where Kat’s motivations were concerned.
“If you haven’t already guessed, I’m bi, and have, since the day we met, wanted to do you in bondage. Since you showed no indication in that direction, all I could assume was that you were either totally straight, or decided I wasn’t your type. So here’s the deal: as you watch this video, John and I are in another room of this hotel, doing whatever we are doing and, thanks to my unexpected wrinkle, toying with the idea of me tying HIM up.”
Michelle’s eyes went wide with fear as another several jolts of sexual excitement inundated her thoroughly soaked pussy.
“I confess that I wasn’t entirely honest with both of you concerning the details of ‘the agreement.’ In point of fact, I lied to John about what you wanted to get out of all of this, and will factor those lies into the little, shall we say, debate for dominance taking place between the two of us right now.”
Michelle was instantly aghast. ‘WHAT?!’
“I won’t tell you what the lies are. It’ll be more fun to find out yourself and, since you opted not to use a safe word, deal with convincing John not to do what those lies permit, and/or prefer.”
Even though Michelle already knew there was no way she could possibly escape her predicament, she tore into her bondage with a vengeance, which only made her hotter and more convinced that she was a total idiot.
“One of us will eventually come back here and do whatever he or I want with you. So enjoy yourself and look forward to either eating me out to a few orgasms, or sucking John dry for the rest of the 20, rather than 10 hours you told me to stipulate in ‘the agreement’.”
‘FUCK YOU, Kat!’ love/hated Michelle as she teetered on the edge of another bondage orgasm and watched her broker smile sardonically into the lens of her camcorder.
“Fair’s fair,” goaded Kat. “I help you break your bondage cherry, and you help me get what I want. And don’t worry, John’s not a sadist, and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize an ongoing relationship with a drop dead gorgeous, bondage damsel like you... Later, I hope.”
The next image on the tape was of Kat in a skin-tight cat suit and super high, stiletto-heeled boots. “Get your ass over here.” She growled.
A high-heeled, top-heavy damsel, in nothing but panties, stepped into frame. Her wrists were crossed and severely bound behind her back with several tight turns of thin, hard cord.
For the next several minutes, Michelle watched as the 25-year old was slowly and unmercifully bound to a straight-back chair in the same basement in which the first damsel on the tape had been hogtied.
‘Oh-mah-gosh!’
In no way, shape or form was Michelle even mildly homosexual, let alone bi. But the idea of being used against her will by a woman did appeal to her, in a strange inexplicable way. However, if given a choice, she would never submit to a bondage event with a woman…. ‘Unless a man was also involved.’
As all the possibilities of her predicament bounced around Michelle’s astonishment, and the video unfolded, a strange kind of in-and-out sensual rhythm played havoc with her sexuality.
On top of that, the ropes were beginning to sting, a development she
both enjoyed and found almost unbearable.
Not quite an hour had passed since I first bound her wrists.
‘What’s happening?’ she wondered again when she could no longer sustain the pre-orgasmic, seesaw balancing act on which she’d been teetering since I’d left the room.
Wave after wave of uncommon fear and outrageously erotic sexual excitation swept across Michelle’s entire body, creating a diametric, damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don’t dilemma of the most uncommon kind.
‘UN…FUCKING…REAL!’
The orgasm was not of the variety to which Michelle was normally accustomed. Its intensity and staying power were completely out of her control, which both amazed and frightened the not-quite-30-year-old into a state of mindlessness with which she’d never before touched base.
‘Oh-my-gahd.’
Instead of the usual series of tapering off spasms, she was locked into one that simply would not reach closure or stop increasing its intensity.
‘OH----MY----GAHD!’
It was almost as if her groin was having a heart attack.
She stiffened every muscle in her body and, without even realizing it, began to lift her upper body up and down to get every last drop of effect out of the nipple weight as she struggled frantically and completely forgot who and where she was.
In short, Michelle Dubois was having the time of her life.
“MMMUHUHUH!....MMMUHUHUH!!...MMMUH MMMUH MMMUH!!!” Etc., etc. and so forth.
Meanwhile, down in the lobby of the hotel, Kat and I were hanging out and carefully watching the time, while doing our best to look innocently pedestrian.
“How shall we play it?”
“…Your call.”
John Roper
05.11.05
story continues in Michelle's First Time 3
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