|
Angie was
beginning to get worried, while she had lost all sense
of time, she did know that it had been an awfully long
time since the last time John had done anything to her.
It had all started innocently enough, at a party of
course. John had pulled out a pair of handcuffs and put
them on her, as a way of getting her attention.
Well, it had worked, she splashed her drink in his face
and demanded that he take them off. He ran off shouting
something about his eyes, leaving her screaming at him
at the top of her lungs. Unfortunately she lost track of
him in the crowd and sat down demurely on the couch, not
enjoying at all the attention she had attracted to
herself. As long as she was just sitting there, the
handcuffs seemed to not get in the way very much. It was
when she tried to do anything that they really bothered
her. She ended up spilling the entire contents of her
purse trying to find something she could try to pick
them with. There was nothing but
make-up, ATM receipts, gum wrappers, and other useless
junk.
Eventually she gave up and piled everything back into
her purse. Three other people sat down on the couch and
started passing around a joint. Naturally she joined in.
They all thought it was funny to watch her take a drag
using both hands and she started making a
show of it. She hardly noticed when the joint was gone,
along with most of the people in the party, she sat
there with the bottle of beer that seemed to appear out
of nowhere and waited for that bastard to come back. It
was sitting there with her hands on her lap and the
various chemicals wafting through her brain that Angie
realized that she was getting very horny for some
reason. Either that or she had to pee real bad and
couldn't tell. No...she was definitely horny. She held
the beer bottle tightly between her thighs and squeezed,
pushing it against the tight crotch of her jeans. With
her arms she squeezed her breasts in on the sides.
Quickly she looked around to make sure nobody was
watching her. She looked right into the eyes of John, a
little bloodshot, since Vodka wasn't very kind to them.
She froze. Did he know?
"I thought you would have left hours ago."
"What, with these on my wrists?"
"Everybody's got keys to these. These are those cheapies
that they made those belts out of a few years ago."
"Well I don't, so I'd appreciate it if you'd get your
key and get these off of me." "I've got it in my room."
Surprisingly, this wasn't followed by some sort of sly
wink, which caught her off guard because she was
expecting one.
"On second thought, I'd better not let you out of my
sight again."
"Right this way."
It was a huge house, built of large stones in the 19th
century. If there had been a college nearby the place
would have been converted into a fraternity house ages
ago. Fate had been kinder in that the place was merely
shared by a group of grad students.
"I didn't know you lived in this house," Angie said as
she climbed the stairs.
"In the attic. I fixed it up myself." They got up to his
room and Angie ooohed with pleasure.
"This is really incredible."
"Like it? Here, have a seat and I'll get the key."
She sat on the edge of the bed. While John shuffled
through a drawer, she stroked the light brown wool
blanket that covered the bed. Curiously, she found that
the contrast between the blanket, her lightly tanned
wrists, and the nickle plated handcuffs with the light
from the track lighting reflecting off of it was
esthetically pleasing. What an odd thought.
"Found it."
He knelt down and picked up her hands to take off the
cuffs. She held his hands and looked into his eyes. "I'm
really sorry I threw my drink in your face."
"I've suffered worse." Angie actually began to feel
guilty for hating him. He had, after all, only been
playing around and she built it up into this whole big
deal in her mind.
Looking at him, Angie realized he was quite handsome,
and his hands felt so strong and firm, yet gentle as
they held hers.
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.
He didn't move, and momentarily Angie feared that she
had made a horrible mistake. Actually she had, but not
the one she
was thinking of, as she found out later. He pushed her
back onto the bed and laid on top of her, kissing her
with a passion that only fanned the flames growing in
her loins. She wanted to hold him close, press her body
harder against him, but her hands were still chained.
Indeed, he had hooked the chain of the handcuffs with
his left thumb and was
holding her arms above her head.
He leaned to one side and with his free hand, began
unbuttoning her blouse. She was panting too hard to
voice the slightest protest, she was too aroused.
With her arms pinioned above her, and her body helpless
under his weight, she could feel his hardness against
her mound. She felt exposed, and helpless, and as he
began to caress her breasts, she could swear she was
about to come. She struggled and squirmed, but only
ended up rubbing herself against him harder.
Then he began to use his mouth, twirling her nipple with
his tongue. She couldn't resist any longer. Hooking her
legs around behind his, she ground herself against his
cock. She wanted it inside her so badly that she was
determined to push it through the two intervening layers
of denim. She strained her arms against the cuffs, her
chest was heaving when he bit down on her nipple. Her
scream echoed throughout the attic room. It was one of
combined ecstasy and pain, frustration and release.
Angie came hard, and it left her weak and panting.
"Oh god...John...Please...fuck me."
"I guess you don't hate me anymore then?"
"Oh please, don't punish me this way."
"How shall I punish you then?"
Angie had no idea what John had in mind, but she would
do anything now that she was worked up to this peak.
"Anything, just do it."
She didn't quite catch the comment he made about
Pandora's Box, she was too busy trying to catch her
breath. While he was messing around with something in
the closet, she reached down with her chained hands and
unzipped her jeans. She slid them off and onto the
floor, along with her soaked panties. She wriggled her
way onto the center of the bed with her head on the
pillow. Lying there in just an unbuttoned blouse and a
pair of handcuffs, she began to play with herself. "Come
on, John."
Then she heard the jingling sound. She propped herself
up on one elbow to see what it was. It took her a moment
to figure out what it was, and she wished she hadn't.
The jingling was coming from the rings and buckles
hanging from this mass of black leather and straps. Then
she re-considered. Part of what had turned her on so
much was the feeling of helplessness, kind of like being
the damsel in distress. She recalled how much she
enjoyed it when the boys in her neighborhood played
Cowboys and Indians and she got to play the Indian
princess who got captured and tied up by the Cowboys, or
the Cowgirl who got captured and tied up by the Indians.
She had heard about people who were into bondage, but
had never even considered what she would do if she
actually met one. She even began to wonder if she was
one herself. She began to look towards this encounter
with curiosity and anticipation. If she didn't like it
she could just ride it out, but if she did, and she
certainly was in a receptive mood, she would be in for
an incredible experience. Anyway, she couldn't run
screaming from the house in her current state of
affairs.
She put on a sultry look. "What are you gonna do with
all the hardware, big boy?" It wasn't Mae West, but she
tried. "That is for me to know, and you to find out."
"I'm not entirely sure I want to find out." Actually she
did, but she couldn't give in that easily. "What's that
all
for?" "I'll tell you as I go along. But first, I'll have
to take those off." He was referring to both the
handcuffs and the blouse.
"Hey, that's no fair, you're still dressed."
"You're in no position to complain my dear, Nya ha ha
ha," he said, twirling the end of an imaginary mustache.
Angie couldn't help but laugh. She kissed him. "Okay,
I'll try." John removed the handcuffs and she slipped
off her blouse. She noticed the deep lines on her wrists
from the hard steel, and she started to rub them.
"Give me your hands, I have a cure for that." What he
actually had were leather wrist cuffs. They were fairly
wide, about three inches, and held closed by two big
silver buckles.
There was a large ring hanging from a D-ring attached to
them, and it was pretty obvious to her what it was for.
Compared to the cuffs, these were actually comfortable.
They fit tightly, exactly against her skin, but they
conformed to the shape of her wrists. Then he produced a
pair of ankle cuffs that were exactly the same, only
heavier.
"This is getting interesting. You're turning me into
quite the proper slave girl, aren't you?" She held up
one hand and rocked it back and forth. The rings jangled
together. "And you
don't even need bells..." She put her hand on his thigh
and then slid it higher. She felt his hardness return.
"Take me...Master." This role was easy to slip into, and
it made a very interesting game.
"You take me," he said, leaning back on the bed. Angie
took her cue instantly, getting down on her knees and
taking the shoes from his feet that were hanging over
the edge of the bed. She peeled off his socks, which
were still fresh (He must have taken a shower just
before the party, she thought) and massaged his feet.
She looked up at him, and met his eyes, and without
breaking her gaze away from his, began kissing his toes.
He patted the space beside him on the bed and she was
there, nestled under his arm, running her hand across
his chest. The ring caught and jingled on each of his
buttons, so she started
unfastening them. She pulled aside his shirt and gazed
at his chest. If she had seen him without a shirt this
summer when he was getting this tan, she would have been
dating him already.
His skin was so smooth and perfect, hairless, except for
a thin ring around his nipples (Why do men have them
anyway? She wondered as she ran her fingers across them
one by one) and the curly wisps coming up to his navel
from below his belt. His belt was her next target. She
unbuckled it, unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped the fly,
and slid her hands down so that she could pull down his
jeans and briefs together. Fortunately he gave her a
hand by putting his feet up on the bed and lifting his
hips. She nearly gasped at the sight of his perfectly
defined stomach muscles. How could he find time to study
while he kept
his body in such great shape?
Throwing the pants to the floor, she looked upon what
she had unveiled. From her experience, she could tell
that this was a better than average cock. Men always
claimed to have more, and he was certainly below some of
the exaggerations she heard, but when compared to the
reality, this was something special. She could wrap both
of her hands around it, and still have plenty of it left
to suck, which was exactly what she did. He let out a
grunt, and she could feel the muscles tensing in his
crotch, so she stopped. That ought to fix him, she
thought, make him want me, now.
It did, John grabbed her and pulled her to the bed,
kissing her and stroking her tongue with his. He pinned
her arms above her head, and then she realized that he
was actually hooking ropes from the posts of the bed
through the rings. She started to pull, but it was too
late, he was already tightening the ropes to her legs.
She was spread completely out.
He remounted the bed, poised himself above her, and
paused.
"umm..."
"Pill," she blurted out, trying hard not to lose the
mood of the scene.
"Right," he said, and guiding himself with one hand,
slid his cock with excruciating slowness into her
flooded vagina. She pulled against the ropes and moaned.
Arching her back and shaking her head from side to side.
He penetrated her to the fullest, and she gasped with
her eyes wide open, and flopped back down on the bed.
John began stroking in and out, varying both the tempo
and length. It was too much for Angie. She strained and
pulled, she was breathing so heavily that she could
hardly manage a low scream that was
more like a VERY loud moan.
"Aaaarrrrrh!" John was coming, and stroking very
quickly. Angie was just on the brink, and when she felt
those contractions as his sperm came spurting into her,
she went over the edge. Angie came even harder than
before. John collapsed on top of her, without
withdrawing. They were both panting and sweaty. The two
just laid there for a while to catch their breath. A few
minutes later, John climbed off the bed, and surveyed
the spread form of Angie on the bed. Sweat glistened on
her heaving breasts. Her closed eyelids were still
darkened with arousal. Her clenched fists strained
against the leather and
relaxed. Angie opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"That was absolutely incredible," she said dreamily,
"But, could I get up now?"
"Maybe," John smiled. Quickly, he went to the closet and
returned with a few padlocks and a length of chain.
First he connected the chain to her ankle cuffs with two
locks, and then,
with the third, he connected her wrists. Angie watched
the whole proceeding with a bemused expression on her
face. "I assume, then, that you mean to keep me
around...."
"Let's just say I've had my eyes on you for a long time,
and I've always fantasized about making you mine." "Mmmm,
keep doing this to me and you'll get your wish. But
right now, I really have to go to the bathroom." "Well,
there's one downstairs...." She looked at him in-
credulously. "...but there's another right around there
behind the wardrobe."
"Thanks," she said as she hopped off the bed. The chain
rattled loudly on the hardwood floor. While she was
gone, John made preparations for what he hoped she would
agree to next. Angie rattled back in to the bedroom just
as John finished untangling the pride of his collection.
"What is that?" she said, pointing with both hands (As
if she had a choice).
Handcuffs, ropes, and even leather shackles she could
understand, but what was before her eyes now, she
couldn't even guess what part of the body it was for,
let alone how it went. If that long cylindrical thing
was supposed to be some sort of dildo, where did her
legs go? "I think I'm in over my head."
"No, but you will be...."
"Wait, this is going a bit too fast for me." "I'm sorry,
I guess I was getting carried away. I've always had a
passion for this sort of thing, and with you it seemed
like a fantasy come true. I'm sorry if I've scared you.
If you want to go, I'll let you." Angie looked at him.
He looked much better to her when he was in control.
"Look, it's not that I'm scared....well, I am, sort of,
but I've really enjoyed this so far, but I just need to
know were it's going to end up." John visibly
brightened. "You have? I've never met anyone before who
shared my interests."
"Well, I don't know exactly if I do, but I think I
might. I just want to understand what I'm getting into."
"Well this..." John said, holding up the head harness.
They laughed. "But seriously, ordinary sex just never
really did it for me. The bondage, when I did it to
myself, just concentrated everything, and made it so
much more intense. When I could do it to a woman, I knew
the pleasure she could experience, and it thinking of it
just charged the experience for me. The trouble was,
usually that wasn't the case." "Well, I can tell you,
that experience was certainly overwhelming for me. I
felt helpless, but I wasn't frightened...too
much. And you're not too bad at the ordinary sex part."
"Comes from reading Mom's Cosmopolitan when I was a
kid."
There was a pause.
"Do you think you'd like to try it again." "I guess, I'm
not sure when I've got a free night."
"It's Saturday, do you have anyplace you have to be
tomorrow?" "You mean now? I need to think a bit." Once
she had firmly banished the thought that anything could
go wrong, she agreed. "Now what exactly is this thing."
"Come here and I'll show you. This part goes in your
mouth...."
When that last buckle had been buckled, Angie was
kneeling on the floor. The gag harness filled her mouth,
and the attached blindfold blocked out all light. The
harness had a strap that went under her chin, and that,
combined with the stiff posture collar held her head
completely immobile. John had also placed a belt with
rings on it tightly around her waist and locked both her
wrists and ankles to it. A long strap encircled her
elbows and then wound around her chest below her
breasts. Another strap was cinched just above them. Two
more secured her ankles to her thighs. And finally, her
nipples protruding between the straps got a pair of
clamps. Those worrisome thoughts began clawing at
the back of her mind again.
John stepped back and surveyed his work again. Angie was
more suited to bondage than any of the women in his
collection of magazines. He had taken care to make sure
her black hair cascaded over the straps of the harness
instead of being trapped under
them, so it looked like something she might have put on
herself, like it was meant to be there for a long time.
"It's done," he announced. He watched her shift a little
bit in her bonds, testing them. God, he was harder than
ever. John reached down and began gently stroking
himself as he walked around her. Angie knew he was
moving and tried to face him, but between the blindfold
and the rest of the bondage, the effort was pointless.
John started the VCR, pulled on some clothes and left
the room.
Eventually Angie became aware that John had left. She
began to struggle. She breathed deeply and strained
against the straps across her chest, but that only
tightened the loop about her elbows. She tried to reach
the buckles of the shackles, but they were just beyond
her fingertips. She squirmed and twisted, but John had
bound her too well.
The sensory deprivation was getting to her too. She
couldn't see, there was nothing to hear except the
creaking of the leather as she struggled and her own
desperate breathing.
The prod of the gag was soaked with her saliva. She bit
down, but the leather-covered foam was too resilient. It
seemed like hours. Finally she settled down, resigned
that there was nothing that she could do. (This is where
our story began).
After what seemed like another eternity, she began to
worry again. What if something had happened to John? She
could die bound up like this! She had to escape! Her
furious struggles left her lying on her back, after
thumping her head on the floor. She heard someone coming
up the stairs and she froze. Who was it? When the hand
began caressing her breast, she decided it had to be
John.
"I hope you haven't been waiting too long," he said, "I
just took about half an hour to clean up party debris."
That was only half an hour! But her nipples were burning
in the clamps, and all those thought that had been
racing through her mind....still, the sensation of being
touched again, after what had seemed such a long time
was so intense. Then, he lifted her onto the bed. A
surge of sensation hit her as he unclamped one of her
breasts and began massaging her nipple with his tongue.
It was as if her entire being were concentrated in that
one point. The rest of her bound body slipped away from
her attention, with the exception of the prod in her
mouth.
The Harness/Gag/Blindfold had held most of her attention
when she had first been bound. The sensation of having
her head tightly encased in stiff leather was new and
startling to her. The way the prod was irremovably held
in her mouth emphasized that her head was IN the
harness. It was very difficult to put in to words the
sensation of confinement that device gave her. Of
course, now it was annoying because she was starting to
pant, and the strap under her chin kept her teeth
tightly clamped around the prod.
Where had John learned his technique? Most men tend to
spread their attention around, playing a little bit with
one breast, then perhaps nibbling an ear, then moving on
to another
area, without leaving any one of them completely
satisfied. John was still kissing and caressing her one
free breast. Angie was getting so aroused she wanted to
scream, but all she could manage was a raspy hum. She
squirmed on the bed, but John kept nibbling
on her breast. Then he surprised her.
Unnoticed until he struck, John had taken the clamp he
had removed from her nipple and suddenly snapped it on
Angie's inflamed clitoris. She tried to kick, but the
straps around her thighs prevented that. She couldn't
reach either, because of the leather shackles on her
wrists. All she wanted to do was remove that clamp, and
she couldn't. She groaned in pain and frustration.
"Oh, you don't like that. Let me kiss it and make it
feel better."
John knelt on the floor, removed the clamp, and buried
his face between Angie's shackled feet. He sucked hard
on her lips and clit. He penetrated her deeply with his
tongue. He even blew lightly on her vagina, the cooling
air shocking her nether regions.
Finally, John decided he was ready, and stripped off his
jeans. This time he penetrated her rapidly, and Angie's
entire body shook. John pumped as fiercely as he could
and within
moments, Angie came, her scream finally making it
through the leather than had silenced her. John,
however, wasn't finished and kept stroking madly. Angie
began to feel the tide rising within her again. As their
rhythm reached its fevered peak, they both came
explosively.
After he had cleaned himself up, John began gently
removing the bonds from Angie's body. Her knees were
cramped from being held so tightly for so long, and she
was sweaty and sore all over. But it was a good kind of
sore. John accompanied her to the shower, and they took
turns scrubbing each other's backs, and fronts....
In the morning, Angie awoke in John's bed, but John was
nowhere to be found. She got up, but the chain she
discovered around her ankle kept her from getting out of
the bed. A folded note on the nightstand said "Stay
put." She laughed. She began to speculate on whether or
not she'd be at any of her classes on Monday, and then
she remembered that Monday was a school holiday.... |
