“Is this really necessary?”
I stopped what I was doing and stepped back, hands on hips.
“Do you not want me to tie you up?”
“Yeah, I do, but I was thinking… you know, just my wrists. Something easy!”
“Easy?”
“Yeah… a few loops here and there… something comfortable and then we could fool around!” She slipped into her ‘come hither’ look, an expression that never failed to get me going. And it began to work this time, too, but I was not going to be sidetracked. I tamped down the ember of desire flaring in my belly.
“I don’t do ‘bondage lite’, you know that!”
Her smolderingly sexy expression re-formed into a pout that she knew also stirred me, but in an aggravated way. She was bringing all her wiles to bear to get me to do what she wanted.
“I’ll suck your toes!” She waggled her eye brows.
“You’ll do that and more and you won’t have anything to say about it!”
She smirked! “I won’t do anything! Just ‘cause you have me tied up doesn’t mean I’ll cooperate!”
“So now you don’t want to be tied up? I‘ve got a ton of work I could do; that would be better than wasting time with you! What’s it going to be, Cath?”
She amped-up the pout. “Of course I want to be tied up; I was just thinking that it would be nice to, you know, cuddle.”
“Cuddle?”
“Yeah! Me tied a little, vulnerable and available, and you taking advantage of me?”
I frowned and expelled an exasperated sigh. It had been a while, weeks, since we had done any real bondage. Work for both of us, she was a family therapist and I was a work-at-home consulting engineer, had been brutal, leaving no time for much of anything else. Now, today, we were snowed in while a huge nor’easter roared outside, work was canceled and rescheduled, a whole day of free time full of possibility! And she was being coy!
I understood where she wanted to go with this. We had done it before; her, blindfolded, hands bound, and me, very, very horny, driving her to multiple orgasms with assaults on all her erogenous zones. Inviting, for sure, but I had a different urge today.
First, a word or two about Cathy. She was 35, never married, but with a long string of ex-boyfriends in her past. She had discovered a hither-too suppressed attraction to women after a particularly nasty break-up with, hopefully, her last man friend. After several short-term girl/girl relationships, we met and dated for several months before moving in together.
Cathy was 5’-8’’ tall, with lovely long legs, a narrow waist and delightful pear-shaped breasts. Everything was toned and tight! She had a heart-shaped face framed by shoulder length auburn hair. Her warm brown eyes had an Asian cast to them that went well with her prominent cheekbones and generous full lips. In short, she was a babe!
We had been together for almost a year now and were still going strong!
She also discovered, thanks to it being an obsession of mine, an interest in being restrained via bondage during sex. After being immersed in sex whilst tied up, she expanded her interest to role playing and kidnap fantasies. We began to play those kinds of games regularly, sometimes with a few friends. She proved to be a tough broad, enduring stringent ties with ease and asking for more!
At times like these, when I was indulging in my obsession, I could barely contain my joy at being with the girl of my dreams. She was beautiful, sexy and crazy for bondage. What more could a girl ask for?
But back to the moment!
I had already tied her wrists behind her back and her ankles and had begun to pull her elbows together when she started her whining and cajoling.
As she whined, she had twisted around and sat up on the couch. She looked delicious! She wore tight stretch gray jeans, black spandex-y turtleneck, un-tucked and molded to her body with black woolen tights under the jeans. She hadn’t got around to pulling on her boots before I convinced her she needed to be tied up!
Or, at least, I thought I had convinced her!
“No cuddling right now, Sweetie! You’re just trying to delay the inevitable! I know how you work!”
“Moi?”
“Yeah, moi! Now shut up or I’ll gag you now!”
“It always has to be your way, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does. And the more you bitch the harder I’ll make it for you.”
“Ya know, someday it’s going be you getting tied up and then we’ll see how you like it!”
“In your dreams, Cath! In your dreams!” This was an old discussion, one that had taken place many times before. She was going to tie me up and do all sorts of stuff to me, blah, blah, blah! It hadn’t happened yet, although she had tried, and it wasn’t going to ever happen. I was bigger and meaner and more motivated than she was and that was all the difference.
I needed to put a stop to her pouting and manipulation or I’d never get her tied!
“Time to shut you up, Sweetie. You’re starting to aggravate me!” I found the sponge I wanted to gag her with; it was one of those large peanut-shaped things. I knelt on the couch, straddling her legs and facing her and began to pack the sponge into her mouth. I noted with satisfaction, that she let me do it, opening her mouth wide to make it easier.
The feigned reluctance and back talk was part of her usual behavior in these situations. She got a charge out of being the reluctant captive, even though she wanted it as much as I did! Having to ‘force’ her into it made it more exciting for me as well.
Cathy had a big mouth in more ways than one! She could take the whole sponge without any problems and without any gag reflex issues. She liked to tease me by claiming she was very popular with the boys in school because of that very talent!
I secured the sponge with several wraps of black electrical tape, lifting her hair so as not to catch it with the tape. Her frowning face as she adapted to the gag was priceless to see.
“Well, OK, now I can get to work!” She rolled her eyes and mmmphf-ed something through the gag.
My philosophy regarding bondage was that it should be tight and inescapable. While I respected the abilities of those shibari people that wrapped rope around their subjects in beautiful patterns, I wasn’t interested in doing a macramé project.
My plan for Cathy today was to tie her into absolute immobility. Sometimes I liked to see her struggle; she was a world-class struggler, noisy, energetic and relentless. It was a challenge to keep her tied. Today, though, I had an itch that had long needed scratching. I wanted to secure Cathy as tightly and securely as I could and she could stand!
Cathy was flexible to the max! She was able to roll up and place her legs behind her head, she could stand on one foot and touch her head with the other foot and all sorts of other weird contortions. I loved that because it allowed me to tie her into positions that someone else less flexible could never do and she was always eager to test her limits.
This tie was going to be a rope extravaganza! After gagging her, I began adding tight bands of cinched rope to secure her legs above and below her knees. I finished the elbow tie drawing them right tight together. I had her stand up and tied a multi-stranded band of rope at her waist, which caught her arms at mid-forearm and, of course, chest bindings above and below her breasts that pinned her arms to her body.
As I was finishing up her bindings, I looked up and caught her checking herself out in the big mirror which hung in our living room over the fireplace.
I turned her away from the mirror and helped her to a sitting position on the coffee table.
“Don’t be so vain! You don’t look that good!” I was lying of course! She looked spectacular! The tight bands of white rope against her dark clothing accentuated the natural curves of her body. For the umpteenth time I thanked my lucky stars for allowing me to meet her.
I returned to my task, not ready to sit back and admire and play with my toy just yet.
I maneuvered her in a prone position on her belly on the table; her legs hung off the end, but wouldn’t for long! I levered her legs up and pushed her heels down towards her butt, forcing her legs into a position from which I could hogtie her. Slipping the loop end of a doubled rope under the gathered chest and elbow bindings behind her back, I ran the other end through a loop I had left in her ankle bounds, brought that end up to the other and slid it through the loop. Now I had a fulcrum with which I could tighten her into an arched hogtie. While I lifted her legs with one arm under her thighs, I pulled on the fulcrum rope with my other hand. Cathy’s torso lifted off the table as, simultaneously, her knees rose. She grunted softly as the stress increased in her ankles and thighs and the chest ropes dug into her. I tied off the rope and checked her position. The only parts of her now touching the table surface were her belly and the tops of her thighs. She let her head hang down, but she was so arched that she couldn’t reach the table to rest her forehead on it.
I had plans for her head anyway and moved there next. I gathered her hair at her scalp and secured it with a scrunchie and then wove a rope into the ensuing ponytail, which I tied off to her feet. This rope held her head up and back.
I went around to the front of the table and knelt down.
“Are you OK, Cath?” She blinked once, our pre-arranged signal for OK. Two blinks and I would have cut her loose immediately. I always kept EMT scissors nearby. I would never forgive myself if I hurt her!
“Are you sure? You can breathe OK?” One blink again! She was tough and had a lot of pride in her ability to withstand the torments I subjected her to. Our little circle of bondage friends marveled at her staying power and endurance. As soon as I had her done to the degree I wanted, I would video and photographed her and share her plight with our friends. I was sure they would be amazed.
The next thing would not please her, but it was something I had wanted to try for a long time. I slipped a nose hook into her nostrils and tied it off to her hair rope. She shook her head and mumbled at the intrusion. She had never endured nose torture. This particular hook was well padded, but it must have been a weird sensation to have your nostrils stretched! I knelt and looked her in the eyes again. She rolled them, but again blinked once when I asked her if she was good.
“We’re almost done here…for now!” Another eye roll from Cathy!
I tied a line from the front of her chest bindings down and under the length of the table. Those ropes were so tightened that I could barely work the rope under her bindings! I fished the other end out, brought it up and ran it through her knee bonds. I pulled hard on it forcing her chest and knees down towards the table surface and putting more tension into the hogtie rope. I placed the final rope over the middle of the table, side-to-side. It passed over and caught the hogtie rope, so that when I pulled it tight around the table, the hogtie rope was shortened and tightened. I heard Cathy gasp as I tied the knot.
I checked her again. Sweat had popped out on her forehead and her face was turning red! She still blinked only once.
I didn’t like that and without asking again if she was OK, I cut the tape and quickly pulled the sponge free. She sucked in oxygen.
“Jesus, Cathy, what was that? Did you forget the signal or something?”
I dribbled some water into her mouth and when she found her voice, she whispered out a response.
“I’m OK! Put the gag back in!”
“Uh uh! I’m going to free you!”
“No! Don’t! This is such a trip; I can’t move a thing! No, don’t untie me yet! I’m loving this!”
I sat back on my heels and stared at her. She was giving me the big-eyed look again this time trying to manipulate me into keeping her tied!
“Are your arms and legs OK? No numbness or coldness?” She shook her head. I felt her hands and feet and checked her color and everything did look all right.
“OK, but I’m not putting that gag back in!” I was sure the position of her head and the tension in her chest had been restricting her breathing even though she wouldn’t admit it.
I thought a moment and then dashed into the kitchen and was back in no time with a set of chopsticks. Behind her and out of sight, I wound some twine around one end and had a second piece ready for the other end.
“Stick out your tongue!” She frowned, but did as asked. I slid the sticks as far back along her tongue as I could, pinning her tongue between them.. I quickly tied the open end together with the twine. Cathy looked dismayed at this turn of events. I had never tied her tongue. She tried to get comfortable with it, but wasn’t having much luck. I grabbed her slippery tongue and adjusted the sticks, pushing them further back for maximum effect.
“I think that goes well with the nose hook, don’t you? Kind of an Asian theme, huh?” I think she swore at me, but it came out all lisp-y and wet. The drool began to run off her tongue, onto her chin and collect on the table top.
I noticed as I readied the camera and the Flip that she was trying to struggle, but apparently couldn’t get anything to move.
I was very excited now myself! She looked fantastic, a perfect damsel-in-extreme distress. I so wanted to make love to her, but to do so I‘d have to untie her and I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I pulled the table out away from the couch and shot her from every angle, filling the photo card with shot after shot. I took close ups of her hands and face and shots from crazy angles. I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity!
I picked up the video camera and began to shoot her with it urging her to struggle as much as she could. Her movement was imperceptible at best, but it was still going to be a super video. I video-ed for about 10 minutes and then found myself repeating views and perspectives, so I put it down.
I so wanted to make love to her, but she was bound so tightly and lying on her belly that there was no access to between her legs. I would have to free her to reward her in that way, but what the hell, she had let me live a dream.
Rather than untie every knot, I used the scissors to cut her loose. We usually do that to save time, but it makes our rope bill astronomical! I removed the chopsticks on her tongue and the nose hook last.
She stretched luxuriously and rolled up onto her butt. She sat there for a moment and then stood.
Affecting a pissed-off expression, she said, “You are so mean! I can’t believe that you would use those things on me!” Then she smiled. “That was so fantastic… I couldn’t move at all. God, I went right into sub-space. Thank you so much!”
She pulled me to her and kissed me. We began to seriously neck and simultaneously shuffling over to the couch still in our clinch. We collapsed on the cushions, laughing. I slid her sweater up and nuzzled her breasts then unbuckled her belt and pulled the zipper and cupped my hand on her sex. Cath busied herself by slidding one hand under my sweatshirt and worming her other hand under the waistband of my sweatpants.
I felt the dampness between her legs and knew she could feel mine. I slid to the floor and yanked her jeans and tights off and then my head was between her legs expressing my love and affection and appreciation in a most personal way. Cathy lay back, pushed her hips froward and let me pleasure her. She came quickly, stimulated from the excitement of the bondage. But I didn’t stop and soon she was bouncing her tight butt on the cushions as a second spasm engulfed her. I kept at it until she moaned and stiffened a third time. By now I was tired, particularly my tongue, but I knew I had repaid her for her indulgence of my desires.
I sat back and lay my head on the cushion next to Cathy’s thigh. I draped my arm over her legs. Cathy just laid quietly, her head flung back on the cushion. We stayed that way for several minutes until she stirred and spoke.
“We better get moving and shovel the driveway!”
“What? After all this that is what you want to do? What a party pooper!”
“Look, I’m all sexed out!” She smiled. “Thanks to you! For now, anyway!”
“Yeah, but what about me? I have needs, desires that cry out for fulfillment!” I struck a pose placing my hand, palm forward, against my forehead and sighing loudly, eyes closed, like some distressed Victorian heroine.
“Jeez! What a ham! Don’t give up the day job is my advice!”
I sat up. “Seriously, Cathy, though, we’re on a roll here! A day off, no place to go! Why waste it?”
An idea popped into my head. It was something that I swore would never happen, but desperate times require desperate measures. I pulled a set of cuffs out of my toy bag and cuffed one of my wrists, holding my hand up in front of her as I did it. Then pinning her eyes with mine, my heart thudding in my chest, I moved both hands behind me and closed the other bracelet on my free wrist.
Her eyes went round. “Seriously?”
I clinked my hands in the cuffs and then pulled them around to the side so she could see them.
“Looks like it, doesn’t it?”
She sat up, suddenly energized.
“You sure? You’re the one that swore you never let me tie you up!”
Of course, by now, I was having second thoughts! In the ardor of the moment, though, I had, by cuffing myself, committed to do it. I could ask her to let me go, but… what the hell, why not go for it?
“Let’s see what you got!”
She shot to her feet and pulled me up by the arm.
“Stand right there!” She bent and rummaged through the toy bag and came out with a collar and a huge ball gag.
“Any last words?” She stood, hip cocked, with the gag dangling from a finger.
This was my last chance to avoid this. I almost asked out, but in the end, I just opened my mouth and let her gag me. Then, she buckled on the collar and clipped on a leash.
She gathered up the toy bag and picked up the leash end. With a disturbing gleam in her eye, she turned and pulled me toward the stairs.
“Let’s go upstairs, slave!”
Slave? Oh, oh, what had I done?
15.07.11