Liz was a strange little creature. I'd hardly noticed the quiet little Korean sitting against the left wall of our freshman physics class. The next semester, we were two weeks into EnglishLit before I realized that she was in the identical location. Drifting over, I asked (by way of introduction), "Isn't it a little strange to sit in the same spot every class."
"Its rational," she replied, her narrow almond eyes focused on the notes before her. "From here, I can write and easily look up. I'm close enough to see, but unlikely to be seen, off to the side. I'm not directly under the instructor's nose in the front row, nor under his notice in the back."
Something in her hard-nose manner captivated me, but only after two semesters of solid pursuit did I finally get a date out of her. Shortly after that, I slept with her - she was passionate in lovemaking, but shut off her warmth like a tap afterwards. I found her fascinating.
It was Saturday morning. The day had started off well, with some lazy wake-up sex. She showered and then I, all the while pondering how we might take in a movie or the beach. When I came out, she was hunched over her desk, bangs hanging, doing her homework. When I whined, she pointed her pencil at me and told me not to disturb her. Annoyed, I didn't bother dressing, and flopped down naked on the bed. With little to do, I began idly examining her various knickknacks that lined the bedside window.
"Don't do that," she said without looking up.
"I'm not hurting anything," I replied somewhat testily. I picked another one up.
The next thing I knew, she'd slammed her pencil down and strode from the room, robe fluttering. A moment later, she was back, a single coil of rope in her small tight hand. I felt my heart jump.
"You into bondage?"
"Put your hands behind, please," she ordered. She tied my wrists with little authoritative pulls. "Not everything is a game. You won't stop touching my things. Tying your hands is a rational way to keep you from doing that."
It was kinda erotic to lay in bed, wrists tied while she worked through her homework with her dragon-lady expression. But after a while, it got old. When she was through, she put away her books and left the room. A moment later, I heard the sweeper start up. Sometimes, Liz just doesn't know how to have fun.
Pulling myself up, I padded out to the room to see if the game is over. She frowned when she saw me. "I'm busy and I don't need you walking around while I'm trying to clean." With utilitarian motions, she pulled another rope from a kitchen drawer and marched me back to the bedroom. I watched with mixed emotions as she tied my ankles with trim efficiency, cinching them tight. Bound fast, I could only look at the ceiling and listen to her clean the apartment.
Later, she returned to her desk with several folders and began doing her bills. Laying bound with her ignoring me was slowly making me crazy. I kept waiting for her to use me or something, but she continued punching the calculator and frowning at her figures.
"Comon, Liz. Either do me or let me go."
"Quiet. I may take you later, but work comes first."
Take me? Her authoritative tone was really erotic. My impatience mounted.
"How about a quickie?"
Her eyes traveled over to me, dark and unreadable. For a moment, I felt both lust and fear. Then she moved to the bed and began untying my feet. I figured I was about to get the boot out of the apartment. But when my legs were freed, she pulled me upright. Taking my elbow in her warm grip, she firmly led me across the room, where she scooped up a wooden chair and deposited it in the closet. Without a word, she forced me to sit, placing my arms over its narrow back and retying my feet to one of the legs. Then she went off for a moment, returning with even more ropes. Kneeling to my side, she tied me fast with an engineer's utility.
"Okay, Liz," I said, trying to sound authoritative, which is difficult when bound to a chair with a growing erection. "Let me loose."
"I may wish your company later, but right now, you are a bother." I had a moment's glance of a gag coming my way. Without a word, she grabbed my hair like a kitten's mane, shoving cloth packing into my mouth. Another strip held it in place. With that, she left, closing the door.
I could only sit in the darkness, feeling the limits of my bonds. She'd added my knees and elbows to the list, and several loops held my torso to the chair. I couldn't move a muscle. Well, only one muscle. The musky smell coming from her laundry basket was giving me a hard on.
Likewise was the thought of my predicament. Here I was, bound and naked. Liz had gone from being a girlfriend to a mistress. There was no telling what she might deem was, in her words, 'rational'.
The passage of time was uncertain. Her womanly scent was becoming my world. My erection grew, jutting out into the darkness. I wanted nothing more that Liz to settle her slight mass onto my lap, her arms looped around my shoulders, a feline smile on her face.
From beyond the door came a scrape, then a bump. What could she be doing? I struggled to get loose, but like everything else she did, I was bound to perfection. Tipping my head back, I began yelling into the gag. I felt like a dog locked in the garage, whining. Finally, light fell over my shoulder, followed by Liz's silhouette.
"I assumed you realized the gag meant that I expected you to remain quiet." Strong fingers took my chin, twisting it to look into her cool eyes. "Since you will not remain still, you must be punished." Then I realized that she had a pair of cloths-pins in her hand. With the ropes holding me, I could not stop her nor move away. All I could do was follow her motions as she clipped a pin on each nipple.
A combination of pain and sexuality broke over me. This tiny girl held me in a captivity I could never have imagined. She placed a finger over my lips and made a shushing noise. Her authority was clear. I settled down into my throbbing torment.
Then a ghost of a smile flickered across her thin lips. Stooping, she retrieved a set of her undies from the basket. A moment later, they were settled over my head. The crotch with its powerful scent was against my nose. She now controlled me, inside and out. I was dazed, her total prisoner. With my eyes closed, I only felt the addition of the blindfold that cut away my sight and pinned the panties to my head.
Fingers brushed across my shoulder, and her voice whispered in my ear. "You now have the punishment of pain and the scent of the desirable to guide you. The only rational choice is to be still and be my prisoner, doing everything I ask."
I heard the door close again. How can I describe the interval of dead time I experienced. It might have been a hour or two or three. I had no idea if she was watching TV in the living room, doing her taxes, or taking in a movie. I fought to take my mind off the punishment that burned on my chest, breathing deep her heavy scent.
I must have been semiconscious when she finally returned. Suddenly I realized, from the throbbing of muscles released from pinning ropes, that my bonds were dropping away. She helped me to stand and steadied me until I'd found my legs. Only then did she untie my wrists. The gag, panties, and blindfold remained. I know that I could have pulled them free - I'm far bigger and stronger than she. But she was my mistress and had bested me. Like a broken horse, I could only wait her guidance.
Still blinded, she led me from the closet, but turned me around again two steps into her bedroom. Something hard jutted under my buttocks and she whispered to sit on it. Her hands took my shoulders and forced me back. A pause, then she took my wrists and, with surprising strength, pulled me back across this smooth surface until I was prone on my back. My wrists were still over my head, and I felt one tied down, and then the other. A pause, and then my ankles were tied as well. Without further delay, the blindfold and panties were removed. Her scent lingered on my saliva-soaked gag.
I was spread-eagled on a door that was elevated on, I suspected, saw-horses. The swing lamp from the living room was now poised over my head, producing a painful glare. To one side, her TV and VCR ran silently through a tape with men and women in strict bondage. On the nearby dresser, all manner of bondage and discipline toys were lined up like a surgeon's tools, ready for use.
My eyes went to Liz, who looked down on me with a quiet smile. She'd donned a leather teddy and elbow-length gloves. In her hands was a small harness, a collection of rings, studs, and leather strapping. As she leaned over my midsection to cruelly bridle me, she offered, "This time, its not about rationality at all. Its all about the pain and pleasure of being human. You shall keep me entertained all weekend."
She finished her lacings and looked to a row of butt-plugs, a finger
to her lip as she mulled over her choice. Captured and faced with many
hours of playful torment, I was not worried as much about my rationality
as my sanity.
17.04.05