016.
Which brings us onto scene two, of part two.
Where the action shifts to the bedroom, and everybody except me and Lili gets to take a break.
Having changed into my second outfit, I'll have to put the cheer uniform back on later, I sit myself down on the office chair.
"Ever played before?"
"Sure."
"Good. Okay." Zak nods. "Well. You only need to look as though you are for a couple of minutes."
"I can do that." It's only Minecraft after all. And, whilst I'm not a proper gamer, I do own a powerful laptop, and Minecraft is one of a half dozen games I dabble in. When the mood takes me.
So I sit, and mine. And craft. It's a map Zak's already played, for an hour or so if I'm any judge: based on the simple house and lack of any hard to find minerals. I make it look as good as possible, running down the first hole I find, planting torches and mining stuff. Realistic enough should any eagle eyed bondage fan happen to pause and zoom in.
My phone rings. At which point a creeper, one of the more annoying mobs, blows me up anyway. I huff, unscripted but it works, and pick up.
"Yes." Pause. Frown. "What do you want Syn?" Pause again, stand up. "Can't it wait until practice?" Pull phone away from ear, frown at screen, bring phone back to ear. "I mean. School starts in an hour anyway." Act surprised, glance at camera. "You are? How do you even know where I live?" Wander across the room, to the full length mirror. Turn left. Turn right, allowing the camera to admire my figure even as I supposedly do the same. Huff. "Fine. I'll come and let you in. But. This had better be important. Coach made me captain, and that isn't about to change, no matter how pissed off you are."
I walk off camera. Zak will do one of those fade jump cut things, fading back up to.
Me, sat back in the chair, Minecraft forgotten behind me, stuck on the main screen since I died. Across from me, on the bed which I'm facing, sits Syn, legs and feet dangling off the edge, arms out behind with hands resting flat on my rainbow duvet. Her pose is purposeful, meant to push her chest out, to emphasise her breasts.
Our outfit choices are purposeful too, a stark contrast between good and bad.
Me: Good. The nightie is pink, lacey, and semi see-through. Fower patterned lace hugs my F cups, pressing them together, showing off both cleavage and the dark circles of my nipples. Below, the nightie clings to my body, showing hints of skin through the material. The hem is a parade of lace flowers around my waist. Since I'm sat down, legs spread wider then is decent, from the right angle my lack of underwear is obvious, the nightie rides up, covering almost nothing of my toned legs. My hair is worn tied into a loose tail and resting over my right shoulder.
Syn. Bad. Wet look black leggings, shiny and tight, hug the contours of her legs, above which is a fitted Iron Maiden tee, also black.
Syn looks me up and down, I smile back. She grins.
"So." Crossing my legs, which doesn't really cover anything up. "What did you want?"
"To be friends. Whatver you've heard about me, from the other girls on the team...."
"The girls you tied up."
"Did I?" All innocence, but I nod. "I think you did."
"Well. Anyway." Syn shrugs, like it doesn't matter. "Whatever you've heard. I'd like to be friends."
"Friends huh?" Crossing my arms below my breasts, frowning. Syn leans forwards. "Yes." Offering her hand. "No hard feelings, about the win I mean."
"Well." I smile, reaching out to shake. "I mean, I won, so." I shrug. "Sure."
We shake hands.
"I could be your second?"
"I'm going to see how you all perform at practice today, before naming a second."
"Oh." A scowl crosses Syn's face, quickly replaced by a smile. A nod. "Sure sure. Of course. Oh. Hey." Pointing. "I didn't know you played?"
"Huh?" Turning, gaze flicking to the monitor. "Yeah. Just occasionally."
"Can I see your house?"
"Well...."
"Go on." Actually turning my chair around, pushing me against my desk. "It'll only take you a minute." Smiling, Syn tugs at a shoulder strap on my nightie. "You'll still have plenty of time to get ready."
"Fine." A huff, but I'm smiling. "Just quickly though."
What I don't see, my full attention on the game, is Syn's evil smile. I don't see her reach into the black Slipknot backpack at her feet. And, worst of all for me, I don't see her pull out a dirty white rag.
"Right." My world begins to shade in on the screen, loading. "Just give me a moment to get oummmmmfffppffff."
I struggle, pretending to fight off the rag, to try, but after a short while I slump, eyes closed. Asleep.
"Okay ladies," Zak, doing a lap of the cameras, "that was great."
As a bonus, and after part two is posted to the site, Zak will be uploading a compilation of outtakes. Anytime we all laughed, or forgot what small amount of lines we had, some scenes of us talking whilst tied up, pre struggle. And moments such as this, being tied between scenes. Because now Lili needs to tie me up, but making it an onscreen tie would bloat the runtime, so off go the camera's. For a moment anyway.
On the upside, now we're off script, Lili and me get to talk whilst she ties me.
On the downside, because this, some of this, will go out on the site eventually. And because the fact there is, maybe, an us, is supposed to be a secret for now. We can't flirt.
"So." Kneeling down beside the chair, sorting through various lengths of rope, Lili stops briefly to look up at me. And grin. "I must say that tee you had on earlier was a good fit."
"Thanks." I grin back. "Just. You know." A shrug, but still smiling. "Showing who I like."
"What you like." Grin widening slightly, there and gone, she noticed my purposeful slip up. I nod. "Of course. What I like."
"What's your real name anyway, Plymouth?" Around behind me now, working on my wrists. "Since we've got time to chat."
"My.... Oh." Silly me. Clever, to ask. "It's Brooke."
"Brooke huh." My wrists are tugged as Lili yanks on a knot. "Well. Brooke." Coming around me to collect another rope. "My name's." The smallest of pauses. "Donna."
"Donna?" Giving Lili a confused frown. She nods. "Yep. Donna." Zak, nearby, checking on a camera, coughs out a laugh. Lili, her back to everyone, sticks her tongue out at me. Teasing. "I see." Smirking, remembering the curvy young hotel girl, giving my head a small shake. "Okay then. Donna. Let's chat."
"Any plans," rope circling my elbows, Lili/Donna slowly tightening the loop, drawing them together, "Brooke?"
"Plans for what?"
"How did you get here I meant?" A tug, the sudden contact of elbow against elbow, the pinch of rope against skin, makes me gasp. Lil/Donna's head appears at my shoulder, she whispers in my ear. "I'd far rather you were naked right now."
"Well." Her words, plus the rope, have set my pussy tingling. I wriggle my butt on the leather seat, adding to the sensation, keeping my own voice at normal level. "I'd like that too. Donna."
"Or. Maybe." Still a whisper, now she's behind me again, working on my elbow ropes. "Maybe it should be me on the chair." A yank, another small gasp from me. "What do you think?"
"I think." Nodding, as though we're discussing the weather. Trying to keep my voice even despite my increasing arousal. "Yes. I'd like that."
"Well then." Standing. Coming back around in front of me, voice back to normal pitch and volume. Only her cheeky smile betraying her own arousal at our flirting. "Prehaps I should give you a lift home when we're done?"
"Definitely." Brief thoughts of Mum, of Lili, in my house, fill my head. "That's a kind offer." Smiling. "Donna. Thank you."
"Going live again." Zak calls out, doing yet another lap of his cameras- I swear the man doesn't know how to stand still.
So far it's only my arms that are tied. The seat back is low enough that Lili's been able to tie them behind it, so the seat is between arms and body. Wrists and elbows have both been bound together. Now, sat, sometimes kneeling, on the ground in front of me, she gets to work on my legs.
"So this is still fun then?" Tying loops and knots about each ankle separately, leaving long trailing ends of rope, Lili/Donna- but Syn now since the cameras are rolling, so no real names -gives me a smile. "This'll be, what, you're third visit here?"
"Third." Nodding. "And, yes, I still love getting tied up."
"Well." Pulling on one of the ropes, wrapping the ends around the base of the right side chair arm, where arm meets seat base at the back, using the wrapped loop like a pulley system to winch my ankle up off the floor. "That's great."
Tying my ankles to that part of the chair forces my legs to bend like a frogs, with my feet up next to my butt. It spreads my legs wide apart too. No doubt this tie, along with my outfit, were purposefully selected. Because now my nightie has ridden up, exposing my pussy completely.
"Almost done." Around behind me again, feels like she's working on binding my wrists to the chair. "Not too tight is it?"
"Hah." Shaking my head, smiling. "Isn't it supposed to be too tight?"
"True." Sudden tickle of fingers across the underside of my right foot, making me laugh. "Hey." Shaking my foot, like that'll do any good. The tickling switches to my other. "Hey." Wriggling my whole body now. "Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Fucking...." Bouncing my foot up and down, trying to stiffle my laughter. "Syn."
"Okay okay." And then my chair spins, not fast but still managing a good three or four revolutions, as I see a grinning Lili give me a wave each time I pass.
Finally a gag is applied, a black scarf, knotted in the middle. I bite down on the knot, and the scarf is tied off behind my head.
Lili leaves the set, taking her bag, but not before dropping me a secret wink, casting her eyes up and down my semi exposed tightly trussed body. Zak gives me a thumbs up, raised eyebrows asking the question. I nod, and drop my head back, closing my eyes.
And count to ten.
Time to finish the scene.
A small wriggle, stirring out of my drug induced slumber, I moan. Head coming up, eyes opening. Waking up. Another moan. Look left. Right. Moaning louder now, a more forceful wriggle, discovering my predicament.
For a number of minutes I struggle, moaning. My- I hope -visible level of panic rising higher and higher. I struggle and wriggle. Breasts bouncing. Legs twisting left and right. Pussy thrusting forwards then back. All of this and still I remain tightly bound.
But, instead of Lili, as is the plan. Instead a worried looking Zak walks on set, arms up.
"Sorry ladies." Pointing at me. "Someone untie Plymouth please." Lili, plus one of the other girls, who happened to be closest, step into the fake room, and begin freeing me. "Thanks." Zak nods at them. "Sorry. But. I've just had a call. We need to halt things there."
"To pick up later?" Toni, who in the next scene was due to be gang tied by the other three cheerleaders. More or less treated like a bondage rag doll. Asks. "Tomorrow?"
"No." Shaking his head, by now I'm untied, rubbing my wrists as I stand.
"Truthfully." A huff, he sounds frustrated. "I don't really know what's going on. Just that I'm needed." Zak turns to the older man. "Derek, can you lock up here, shunt all the footage over to me later?"
"Sure thing." Derek nods. "You need to leave now Zak?"
"I do." Another huff, running a hand through his hair. "Ladies, I'll transfer your funds tonight okay?" We all nod. One of the girls goes to speak, opens her mouth, then just nods too. "Thank you." Giving us a smile as he backs towards the barn door. "I'll cobble some cliffhanger or something together from what we've shot."
"Maybe." Barn door open now, one foot already outside. "Might have you back for a third part. I'll. Um."
"Zak." Lili, a small smile on her face, making a shooing gesture. "Just go."
"Right. Sure." A nod, a smile. "Thanks ladies. Derek. You all did great."
Some twenty minutes later, changed back into my jeans and tee, stood outside, I ring Mum.
"Brooke." She sounds surprised, I don't tend to ring randomly. "Is everything okay dear?"
"Sure Mum. I'll be home early is all, in time for dinner, just wanted to let you know."
"That's great." A pause, I'd told her I was going to Manchester, with friends. Which, location wise, is almost true. "That is great, isn't it?"
"Yes." I smile. She worries about me.
"How about I pop to the shop," I can hear her stepping into shoes, the rattle of keys, "we can have Mexican?"
"Sure." Lili appears beside me, leans in to kiss the cheek I'm not holding my phone too, giving my butt a squeeze. "Hold on Mum." Pulling the phone away, I give Lili a nervous smile. "So. Um." Speaking quickly, the words tumbling over each other. "I. Mostly. Still live with Mum. And it's just me and her. And. Well. She's cooking Mexican. And I'd love to see you some more right now. So. Um. Do you think you'd. Well."
"Sure." Giving me a second kiss, on the lips, before leaning her head on my shoulder. Her hand not having left my butt the whole time. "I'll drive you home, and stay for dinner with your Mum."
"You will." Without thinking I bring the phone back to my ear, and near shout. "She will."
"Who will?" Mum, confused, whilst Lili chuckles. "Oh. Sorry Mum." I take a breath. "Could. Well." I've never really had a boy over, that she knows about anyway. "Could I," squeezing Lili's hand, "maybe bring my girlfriend home for dinner?"
"Yes." And then Mum pauses, my words, one in particular, no doubt catching up with her. But, like a true supermum. "Yes. I'll make Enchiladas."
"Sounds great Mum. Thanks."
"Girlfriend?" Lili, turning me to fully face her, one hand stuffed into each of my jeans butt pockets.
"Um."
"You did," voice teasing, "just call me your girlfriend. Right?"
"Well." Looking around, for help, rescue. But we're all alone. The other girls have long left, and Derek's still in the barn, tidying. Lili sees my gaze track, and grins. "Come on then," a wink, a squeeze of my butt, "girlfriend. Let's go and meet your Mum."
"Okay." Almost whispered out, because I'm suddenly all full of nerves. Because I like Lili, I really do, and this, unplanned, unprepared for, is basically a date.
Taking my hand, Lili leads me off around the side of the main house, where all the girls cars had been parked. "Maybe." Called back over her shoulder. "You'll even show me your room."
Which thought, the thought my bondage loving brain turns it into anyway, does absolutely nothing to ease my nerves.
Plymouth rising (MF+/F+)
I have some catching up to do - but I like Plymouth Journey into Bondage very much so far!
I do hope Zak doesn't have too bad a problem. The story rolls on nicely.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
Bringing your 'girlfriend' home for dinner... Now that's moving quickly 
Great chapter.
Great chapter.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
017.
Lili owns a motorcycle.
Around the side of Zak's house, leaning on it's kickstand beside what must be Derek's supercharged red BMW Mini Cooper, sits a yellow and silver Triumph tourer. Fat rear tyre, the whole thing is. Just.
"Wow."
"You like?" Giving me a, slightly nervous, questioning look as she runs a hand over the black leather saddle. "My Dad's a biker, real die hard. Used to race them in his twenties."
"Not anymore?"
"My parents had me late in life." Lili shakes her head. "He just rides a custom now." She grins, her eyes looking into a potential future, for her, it seems. "A white chooper, easy rider style, so Mum can lean back whilst they cruise."
"Sounds wonderful." I run my own hand along the saddle, bringing it into contact with Lili's. "I'm taking my test in four days."
"You're shitting me?"
"No." I laugh. "I've got a car licence, for work."
"Because of the mower?"
"For the mower." Nodding. "But. I don't know. Just something about bikes."
"Totally." Nodding too, her hand gripping mine on the saddle. "It's just." A shrug, no words, just that shrug, and a small content smile. But I get it.
"Of course." Taking the helmet off Lili, which came from a black saddlebag she's now buckling closed. "No way I'll be able to ride anything like this beast until I'm older."
"Worth the wait though."
"I think so." Having, finally, tamed my hair into a tail, then put on the helmet, I stand still so Lili can check me over. She's bought a spare jacket for me too. Something chunky with padding, but not leather.
Almost as though she planned this.
"Okay." Nodding, zipping up her own, which is leather, jacket. "Just." Patting the saddle, the back. "Sit tight, arms either behind you holding on here." Pointing. "Or around me."
"Got it." Giving a thumbs up, because the helmets are muffling our words. Lili climbs on, I climb on behind her, my messenger bag tight around my shoulder and body, the strap shortened so it doesn't flap or bounce around.
"Any problems." Shouted back over her shoulder. "Pat me four times. Got it?"
"Got it." Four pats, just to show I have. Lili nods. "We'll stop halfway for a stretch."
And then, with the push of a button, Lili wakes the bike up, and an angry sounding choppy rumble fills my world.
The ride. What can I say. It was everything I'd hoped a bike would be. And more. The rush of wind. The sheer power between my legs, not mine to tap and call upon, not this time. But. Soon. Lili handles the Triumph with skill, fast but never too fast. Never what I'd call dangerous.
And, like that, my insides singing with joy, we're pulling up at my house.
I am very glad that, so long as I pass my test, I already have enough funds to buy myself an old yet well maintained tourer of my own. Even one only half the power, a quarter even, of Lili's will still be enough to make me smile.
To start off anyway.
"Your Mum then." Eyeballing the house, looking nervous. "She doesn't know about me?"
"No." I spread my arms. "Wasn't anything to tell. But." I lean in, give her a kiss now she's finished removing her saddlebag and locking her bike to the garden fence with a heavy, thick, looking chain. "I think, now that I've decided to keep you, I'm happy for her to know."
"Keep me huh?" An amused, happy, smile. Lili pulls me into a hug. "I think," kissing me back, "that I'd like to keep you too."
And then, because motorbikes on our driveway aren't something that ever happens, Mum opens the door. Catching Lili and me mid kiss, with my hand very obviously reaching up inside her pale yellow vest top to cup her right breast.
At dinner both Mum and Lili are on best behaviour. It's all polite talk, mostly about bikes from Lili- Mum knows about my approaching test, so is full of questions -or general topics like holidays. Interesting stories from the past. She does well, Mum, considering this is the first time I've ever bought a partner home. Considering it's a she not a he, which I guess would be traditional. Considering too how little warning I gave her. Lili does well too.
Everyone smiles, everyone laughs. Mum seems happy. Which is great. I want her to be okay with my choices, even though, as an adult, my decisions are no longer hers to control. I want her to like my girlfriend. And she does. I can read her well enough to see she isn't holding back some secret distaste, isn't going to be confronting me when next we're alone with a list of issues.
Despite the tattoo's. The fast and noisy motorbike. The wild haircut and all round alternative look. Despite her being seven years my senior. Mum approves.
Which makes everything easier.
With dinner finished Lili and me volunteer to wash up. Mum leaves us to it with only a token protest.
And. After. We sneak- but not really since I pop in to say thank you first -upstairs. To my room.
Where Lili's usual, what I've become used to in those few intimate moments we've shared anyway, gung ho bravado. Fails her.
"Nice." Nodding, looking around. Double bed, which- oops -I forgot to make this morning, which means a tangled lump of yellow and red flower pattered thin duvet sits atop a pale blue sheet. And one of my two pillows, also blue, is on the floor. What furniture I have: two door wardrobe, six drawer unit that doubles as a bedside table, desk which doubles as a makeup station. Bed. Is all wooden, but no two items are the same shade or design. The overall effect is quite random. I like it.
My walls are almost entirely bare since last week, in an attempt to change things around, I tore down all my old tacked up posters. I've yet to find any proper grown up art to replace them though. The only thing remaining is a cork board that hangs beside my desk. On the board, alongside some photos of Mum, Jennifer, and other such things I like to have to hand when I need to smile, is an old A4 map of the UK. Back in my childhood, as a game, Mum bought this map, and together we circled in red marker all the places we've visited together.
"Well." Turning, in the middle of the room to face me, Lili bites her lower lip. "What do you... Um."
Looking at her, stood here, in my actual room. Indecision over how to broach certain subjects written all over her pretty face. Which is a first. And damn but she looks cute.
I smile, a small thing. She smiles back. And I, on the spur, decide. That.
This is my room, so, doesn't that mean I should be in charge?
Even if I don't have the first fucking clue what I'm doing.
"What'ca doing there B?"
"Oh." Stopping beside her, having opened one of my drawers and dug out an old school tie- yellow and blue and red, yuck -I'd been on my way around behind her. "You know," a shrug, a smile, reaching up to finger the writing on my tee, "I don't have any rope, but. Thought I'd improvise."
"Improvi...?" At which point, having gotten moving again, I pull Lili's wrists behind her, looping the middle of the tie around them both, holding them, kind of, crossed behind Lili's back.
"Ah." Giving her wrists a little wriggle, very nearly slipping free. "Hey." I give her a push. "Stop escaping before I've even tied you up."
"Oops." Lili giggles, I join her. "Sorry B." Making a kiss sound and placing her arms, still, behind her. Wrists crossed. "I'll be a good girl. Promise."
"Just." Frowning down at her wrists, thinking. It can't be that hard. "Give me a moment."
"Would you like some rope?"
"Rope?"
"Sure." Slipping free again, damn it. I tut as Lili turns to face me, a guilty but amused smile on her face. "I've." She blushes. "I. Well."
"Out with it Lil." Shaking my head as I look down at my school tie. "You have rope I take it?"
"Yes."
"And." I'm smiling, because rope is good. I'd love to tie her up with rope. But. "Why did you come to Zak's with rope?"
"Well." Flashing me a cheeky grin. "I. Kinda. I was hoping we'd get to spend some time together, after, the shoot. So. I...."
"So you packed a spare set of bike stuff." I smile. "And some rope."
"And some clothes."
"Clothes?"
"Well. Um." Blushing again. Nervous. "That is. In case you wanted me to stay."
"Well." Using my tie, one end wrapped around each wrist, the length stretched behind her, to pull Lili against me. "Aren't we just assuming a bunch of things."
"Can I though?" Giving me a kiss, a nervous half smile. "I'd really like to stay here tonight."
"Of course you can. Silly." Kissing her nose. "Now. Wait here, I'll be back shortly to tie you up properly."
Mum, of course, but I felt asking first was the right thing to do even if doing so was kinda embarrassing, is fine with Lili spending the night. So back upstairs I go, saddle bag in hand, smile on my face, a spring in my step.
"Honestly." Stood at my open door, shaking my head, tutting. "I mean...."
"What?" Lili, completely naked, spreads her arms wide, and giggles. "I just." A shrug. "You know."
"Hmm." Stepping into the room, pushing my door closed with a light backwards kick. "Yes." Nodding. "I know."
"No doubt you wanted me naked anyway," a raised eyebrow, "right?"
"I did."
"Well then." Bouncing on the spot, momentarily hypnotising me with her enhanced D cups. "Tah dah."
Whilst Lili hunts through her bag, tossing rope and a ballgag out onto the floor, I strip too. Because. Well. Why not be naked.
"So." Holding out a length of rope. "Wrists first."
"Was that an order?" Hands on hips, not taking the rope, giving Lili an amused look. "Are you, actually, telling me how to tie you up Lil?"
"Just trying to help." Grinning, waving the rope at me. "Thought you might want some pointers."
"Because I've never done this before?"
"Exactly."
"I think." Spying the ballgag, bending to scoop it up. "That I need to shut you up, before you interfere in my evil plan."
"What plan?" A half grin creeping onto her pretty face as Lili watches me circle around behind her. "B?"
"No no." Behind her now, shaking my head even though she can't see. "Asking about the evil plan is the same as interfering."
"It is?"
"Totally." I think, then giggle. "It might even be worse."
"Oh." Lili giggles too. Thinks. I wait.
"So." I'm still behind her, Lili doesn't turn, but I can hear her teasing tone, I know she's smiling. "What's the evil plan about then B?"
"And now you're getting gagged." I declare, stepping in close, bringing the ballgag up over her head with one hand on each strap.
"But." A final giggle, clearly enjoying the game. "But. Wait. I mean lemmmmmffp ffppmmmf fmfmmpphf."
There is no plan, evil or otherwise. And of course I should really take whatever help or advice Lili can offer regarding bondage.
But.
"I just kinda feel like winging it." I muse, coming back around the front of Lili, enjoying the sight of her ballgagged. I've seen, she's sent, a photo of such, but in the flesh she looks so much more. "Cute. Really cute Lil." I decide, planting a kiss on the shiny red ball, a nice contrast to Lili's black lipstick and silver snake bites.
"Mmmmpf?" Lili points to the bed, eyebrows raised, asking. "Um." I glance from rope pile to bed to Lili. Where do I want to tie her. I would love to see her hogtied, and I'm. Fairly. Certain I could achieve the basic end result. But I want to see her properly bound in that fashion. Breasts. Arched back. Pussy too maybe? And I'm not confident I can manage that.
So. "Something simple?" Tapping my lips with a finger, bending to sort through the rope, aware of Lili moving whilst my attention is elsewhere. Grabbing a couple of lengths, each marked with a small black written '3' at one end- all the rope is marked, I guess the numbers are length -I stand back up.
"Ah." Nodding, smiling at Lili as she gives her body a wiggle, breasts shaking slightly side to side. "Yes. Thank you Lil. I think I can work with that."
Grabbing two more lengths of '3' rope, I get to work.
My bed is just a double, not a king. Normal sized. Still big enough to stretch Lili out on though. She's laid herself roughly, near as possible without a tape measure anyway, in the centre. On her back, with her four limbs helpfully angled towards one each of my beds corners. Showing me what to do.
Now it's down to me and my untested, unpracticed, rope skills, to bind her in place.
Lili owns a motorcycle.
Around the side of Zak's house, leaning on it's kickstand beside what must be Derek's supercharged red BMW Mini Cooper, sits a yellow and silver Triumph tourer. Fat rear tyre, the whole thing is. Just.
"Wow."
"You like?" Giving me a, slightly nervous, questioning look as she runs a hand over the black leather saddle. "My Dad's a biker, real die hard. Used to race them in his twenties."
"Not anymore?"
"My parents had me late in life." Lili shakes her head. "He just rides a custom now." She grins, her eyes looking into a potential future, for her, it seems. "A white chooper, easy rider style, so Mum can lean back whilst they cruise."
"Sounds wonderful." I run my own hand along the saddle, bringing it into contact with Lili's. "I'm taking my test in four days."
"You're shitting me?"
"No." I laugh. "I've got a car licence, for work."
"Because of the mower?"
"For the mower." Nodding. "But. I don't know. Just something about bikes."
"Totally." Nodding too, her hand gripping mine on the saddle. "It's just." A shrug, no words, just that shrug, and a small content smile. But I get it.
"Of course." Taking the helmet off Lili, which came from a black saddlebag she's now buckling closed. "No way I'll be able to ride anything like this beast until I'm older."
"Worth the wait though."
"I think so." Having, finally, tamed my hair into a tail, then put on the helmet, I stand still so Lili can check me over. She's bought a spare jacket for me too. Something chunky with padding, but not leather.
Almost as though she planned this.
"Okay." Nodding, zipping up her own, which is leather, jacket. "Just." Patting the saddle, the back. "Sit tight, arms either behind you holding on here." Pointing. "Or around me."
"Got it." Giving a thumbs up, because the helmets are muffling our words. Lili climbs on, I climb on behind her, my messenger bag tight around my shoulder and body, the strap shortened so it doesn't flap or bounce around.
"Any problems." Shouted back over her shoulder. "Pat me four times. Got it?"
"Got it." Four pats, just to show I have. Lili nods. "We'll stop halfway for a stretch."
And then, with the push of a button, Lili wakes the bike up, and an angry sounding choppy rumble fills my world.
The ride. What can I say. It was everything I'd hoped a bike would be. And more. The rush of wind. The sheer power between my legs, not mine to tap and call upon, not this time. But. Soon. Lili handles the Triumph with skill, fast but never too fast. Never what I'd call dangerous.
And, like that, my insides singing with joy, we're pulling up at my house.
I am very glad that, so long as I pass my test, I already have enough funds to buy myself an old yet well maintained tourer of my own. Even one only half the power, a quarter even, of Lili's will still be enough to make me smile.
To start off anyway.
"Your Mum then." Eyeballing the house, looking nervous. "She doesn't know about me?"
"No." I spread my arms. "Wasn't anything to tell. But." I lean in, give her a kiss now she's finished removing her saddlebag and locking her bike to the garden fence with a heavy, thick, looking chain. "I think, now that I've decided to keep you, I'm happy for her to know."
"Keep me huh?" An amused, happy, smile. Lili pulls me into a hug. "I think," kissing me back, "that I'd like to keep you too."
And then, because motorbikes on our driveway aren't something that ever happens, Mum opens the door. Catching Lili and me mid kiss, with my hand very obviously reaching up inside her pale yellow vest top to cup her right breast.
At dinner both Mum and Lili are on best behaviour. It's all polite talk, mostly about bikes from Lili- Mum knows about my approaching test, so is full of questions -or general topics like holidays. Interesting stories from the past. She does well, Mum, considering this is the first time I've ever bought a partner home. Considering it's a she not a he, which I guess would be traditional. Considering too how little warning I gave her. Lili does well too.
Everyone smiles, everyone laughs. Mum seems happy. Which is great. I want her to be okay with my choices, even though, as an adult, my decisions are no longer hers to control. I want her to like my girlfriend. And she does. I can read her well enough to see she isn't holding back some secret distaste, isn't going to be confronting me when next we're alone with a list of issues.
Despite the tattoo's. The fast and noisy motorbike. The wild haircut and all round alternative look. Despite her being seven years my senior. Mum approves.
Which makes everything easier.
With dinner finished Lili and me volunteer to wash up. Mum leaves us to it with only a token protest.
And. After. We sneak- but not really since I pop in to say thank you first -upstairs. To my room.
Where Lili's usual, what I've become used to in those few intimate moments we've shared anyway, gung ho bravado. Fails her.
"Nice." Nodding, looking around. Double bed, which- oops -I forgot to make this morning, which means a tangled lump of yellow and red flower pattered thin duvet sits atop a pale blue sheet. And one of my two pillows, also blue, is on the floor. What furniture I have: two door wardrobe, six drawer unit that doubles as a bedside table, desk which doubles as a makeup station. Bed. Is all wooden, but no two items are the same shade or design. The overall effect is quite random. I like it.
My walls are almost entirely bare since last week, in an attempt to change things around, I tore down all my old tacked up posters. I've yet to find any proper grown up art to replace them though. The only thing remaining is a cork board that hangs beside my desk. On the board, alongside some photos of Mum, Jennifer, and other such things I like to have to hand when I need to smile, is an old A4 map of the UK. Back in my childhood, as a game, Mum bought this map, and together we circled in red marker all the places we've visited together.
"Well." Turning, in the middle of the room to face me, Lili bites her lower lip. "What do you... Um."
Looking at her, stood here, in my actual room. Indecision over how to broach certain subjects written all over her pretty face. Which is a first. And damn but she looks cute.
I smile, a small thing. She smiles back. And I, on the spur, decide. That.
This is my room, so, doesn't that mean I should be in charge?
Even if I don't have the first fucking clue what I'm doing.
"What'ca doing there B?"
"Oh." Stopping beside her, having opened one of my drawers and dug out an old school tie- yellow and blue and red, yuck -I'd been on my way around behind her. "You know," a shrug, a smile, reaching up to finger the writing on my tee, "I don't have any rope, but. Thought I'd improvise."
"Improvi...?" At which point, having gotten moving again, I pull Lili's wrists behind her, looping the middle of the tie around them both, holding them, kind of, crossed behind Lili's back.
"Ah." Giving her wrists a little wriggle, very nearly slipping free. "Hey." I give her a push. "Stop escaping before I've even tied you up."
"Oops." Lili giggles, I join her. "Sorry B." Making a kiss sound and placing her arms, still, behind her. Wrists crossed. "I'll be a good girl. Promise."
"Just." Frowning down at her wrists, thinking. It can't be that hard. "Give me a moment."
"Would you like some rope?"
"Rope?"
"Sure." Slipping free again, damn it. I tut as Lili turns to face me, a guilty but amused smile on her face. "I've." She blushes. "I. Well."
"Out with it Lil." Shaking my head as I look down at my school tie. "You have rope I take it?"
"Yes."
"And." I'm smiling, because rope is good. I'd love to tie her up with rope. But. "Why did you come to Zak's with rope?"
"Well." Flashing me a cheeky grin. "I. Kinda. I was hoping we'd get to spend some time together, after, the shoot. So. I...."
"So you packed a spare set of bike stuff." I smile. "And some rope."
"And some clothes."
"Clothes?"
"Well. Um." Blushing again. Nervous. "That is. In case you wanted me to stay."
"Well." Using my tie, one end wrapped around each wrist, the length stretched behind her, to pull Lili against me. "Aren't we just assuming a bunch of things."
"Can I though?" Giving me a kiss, a nervous half smile. "I'd really like to stay here tonight."
"Of course you can. Silly." Kissing her nose. "Now. Wait here, I'll be back shortly to tie you up properly."
Mum, of course, but I felt asking first was the right thing to do even if doing so was kinda embarrassing, is fine with Lili spending the night. So back upstairs I go, saddle bag in hand, smile on my face, a spring in my step.
"Honestly." Stood at my open door, shaking my head, tutting. "I mean...."
"What?" Lili, completely naked, spreads her arms wide, and giggles. "I just." A shrug. "You know."
"Hmm." Stepping into the room, pushing my door closed with a light backwards kick. "Yes." Nodding. "I know."
"No doubt you wanted me naked anyway," a raised eyebrow, "right?"
"I did."
"Well then." Bouncing on the spot, momentarily hypnotising me with her enhanced D cups. "Tah dah."
Whilst Lili hunts through her bag, tossing rope and a ballgag out onto the floor, I strip too. Because. Well. Why not be naked.
"So." Holding out a length of rope. "Wrists first."
"Was that an order?" Hands on hips, not taking the rope, giving Lili an amused look. "Are you, actually, telling me how to tie you up Lil?"
"Just trying to help." Grinning, waving the rope at me. "Thought you might want some pointers."
"Because I've never done this before?"
"Exactly."
"I think." Spying the ballgag, bending to scoop it up. "That I need to shut you up, before you interfere in my evil plan."
"What plan?" A half grin creeping onto her pretty face as Lili watches me circle around behind her. "B?"
"No no." Behind her now, shaking my head even though she can't see. "Asking about the evil plan is the same as interfering."
"It is?"
"Totally." I think, then giggle. "It might even be worse."
"Oh." Lili giggles too. Thinks. I wait.
"So." I'm still behind her, Lili doesn't turn, but I can hear her teasing tone, I know she's smiling. "What's the evil plan about then B?"
"And now you're getting gagged." I declare, stepping in close, bringing the ballgag up over her head with one hand on each strap.
"But." A final giggle, clearly enjoying the game. "But. Wait. I mean lemmmmmffp ffppmmmf fmfmmpphf."
There is no plan, evil or otherwise. And of course I should really take whatever help or advice Lili can offer regarding bondage.
But.
"I just kinda feel like winging it." I muse, coming back around the front of Lili, enjoying the sight of her ballgagged. I've seen, she's sent, a photo of such, but in the flesh she looks so much more. "Cute. Really cute Lil." I decide, planting a kiss on the shiny red ball, a nice contrast to Lili's black lipstick and silver snake bites.
"Mmmmpf?" Lili points to the bed, eyebrows raised, asking. "Um." I glance from rope pile to bed to Lili. Where do I want to tie her. I would love to see her hogtied, and I'm. Fairly. Certain I could achieve the basic end result. But I want to see her properly bound in that fashion. Breasts. Arched back. Pussy too maybe? And I'm not confident I can manage that.
So. "Something simple?" Tapping my lips with a finger, bending to sort through the rope, aware of Lili moving whilst my attention is elsewhere. Grabbing a couple of lengths, each marked with a small black written '3' at one end- all the rope is marked, I guess the numbers are length -I stand back up.
"Ah." Nodding, smiling at Lili as she gives her body a wiggle, breasts shaking slightly side to side. "Yes. Thank you Lil. I think I can work with that."
Grabbing two more lengths of '3' rope, I get to work.
My bed is just a double, not a king. Normal sized. Still big enough to stretch Lili out on though. She's laid herself roughly, near as possible without a tape measure anyway, in the centre. On her back, with her four limbs helpfully angled towards one each of my beds corners. Showing me what to do.
Now it's down to me and my untested, unpracticed, rope skills, to bind her in place.
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
"I just kinda feel like winging it."
Isn't that slang for "I have no clue what I am doing"
Great chapter, love this story.
Isn't that slang for "I have no clue what I am doing"
Great chapter, love this story.
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
Two keepers! One keeper winging it with the other keeper. The usual top keeper promising to be good. This is such an interesting picture that you have painted, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. And, as usual, you paint it so clearly that it is as if I am there. And Mom, by-the-way, is a wonderful sport.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
Could've made Brooke's Mum be more difficult, less understanding and friendly.
There are ways I could take the story if I'd done that, more emphasis on the sneaking around prehaps.
But. My own parents have always been understanding of my life choices. So I wanted the same here.
Glad to see the story still being well received.
Thank you all.
There are ways I could take the story if I'd done that, more emphasis on the sneaking around prehaps.
But. My own parents have always been understanding of my life choices. So I wanted the same here.
Glad to see the story still being well received.
Thank you all.
Your characters always have incredible depth and the steamy scenes are always so well described. Enjoying this one a lot.
018.
"Calm." I mutter. "Think it through."
On my bed, laid naked and ballgagged, looking so cute I'm tempted to toss the rope back onto the floor and mount her now, Lili gives me a little wave. And shakes her body, making her D cups, like twin hills topped by ceiling pointed nipples, shake.
She doesn't move any of her limbs to do this, all four are still, helpfully, pointed at the beds corners. All it needs is for me to use the rope I'm holding to attach girlfriend to bed.
Because if I don't odds are she'll only tie me instead. And, damn it, having decided to bind her, I want to at least try making my girlfriend helpless.
So. "Okay." I take a breath. "Let's do this."
Sitting down, my butt -I'm naked too, because why not -pressing gently into Lili's side, I take one of her arms, bringing it around so her hand is rested in my lap. "Just hold still." I let go of her hand, which immediately wanders, straight down to my inner thigh.
Very high up on my inner thigh.
"Hey." Giving her wrist a playful slap, grabbing up her hand and putting it back. "Stop it Lil," reaching back I give one of her nipples a squeeze, "just lay still and let me work."
Lili giggles, which sounds weird through and around a ballgag, but keeps her hand in place when I let go a second time. "Good." I nod. "Thank you."
With one piece of rope in hand, the other three are on the floor at my feet, I fold it in half to find the centre. "No doubt you could do this better." I comment, not looking behind me, frowning down at Lili's wrist. "Mfmmm pfff fppmmf mmm."
"Exactly." Nodding. Holding the rope against her wrist, wrapping each end around so they meet back at the top. "Hmm." It. Looks good, especially once I tie a simple, but tight, knot. Tight enough to pinch the skin of Lili's wrist.
Just to be sure I wrap the rope ends twice more around the wrist, after which I tie another knot. A double. "Just to be sure."
Standing, having bent forward first to scoop the remaining rope off the floor, I repeat my ropework on Lili's other three limbs. Each is now wrapped three times with rope, and secured by as tight a knot as my strength will allow.
"Um." A sudden thought, I pat Lili's left wrist, having sat back down to tie this final limb. "It isn't too tight I hope?"
"Mmf mmf." Shaking her head. "Good." I smile. Just because I love it to be super tight, I'm discovering I do anyway. And just because Lili happens to own her own bondage site, doesn't mean she shares that love. It's best to check. "Right. Well." Standing. "Best get the rest done huh."
"Mmmppf." Nodding, Lili, helpfully, spreads her four limbs out again.
My wooden bed, annoyingly, doesn't have any handy corner posts. Had I bought it, or to be correct had Mum bought it, after my discovery of bondage, I'd of picked something more suitable. Like a four poster. At least it has legs. I can work with that.
Starting with her left wrist, because that's where I'm still stood, I kneel beside my bed, and taking the two trailing ends of the rope already bound to her wrist I bring them down, over the side of the bed at the top corner towards the floor.
The gap between bed frame and carpeted floor isn't large, my beds actual legs are stubby. But at least they're round, which makes wrapping the rope around them, using the same wrap then knot principle as before, relatively easy.
I get to the third limb, the second ankle, before catching sight of Lili teasingly bouncing her already bed secured two limbs up and down, side to side.
Because I didn't think to take in the slack.
Because. "I'm only a novice." I huff, smiling as Lili gives me a cheeky wave with what should be -I thought it was anyway -a helpless wrist. "Yes yes." Waving back, which makes me giggle. "I see. Too much slack." Standing back up, shaking my head. "Hold on then Lil, I'm coming back around."
Back to the left wrist. Untie wrist from bed. At which point my cheeky girlfriend decides to whip her arm up into the air, tugging the rope free of my hands. "Ha." Shaking my head, smiling though as Lili looks across at me, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you mind Lil?" Holding out my open hand. "If. Someone." Prodding at her nipple, making her giggle. "Didn't keep playing around, they might be tied up already."
Which gets me back her wrist ropes.
This time, repeated on all four limbs, after wrapping the ends in seperate directions around the beds leg, I pull. And pull. Using my strength to take in the slack. Forcing my girlfriends limbs each in turn down onto the bed, flat, then forcing arms and legs to stretch out, reaching for the corners.
"And. We're done." I nod. Standing. Lili now very much does resemble a human X. All her limbs are pulled taut, muscles on legs and arms standing out from the strain my ropes are placing on them. "Okay?" Looking down, grinning. Lili nods, her gaze tracking up my naked body, over rounded F cups, to my face. "Not too tight?" A shake of her head. "Good."
Now, what the fuck do I do next?
"Mmfp?"
"I'm." Tapping my lips with a finger, resisting the urge to pace back and forth. "Thinking. Lil."
"Ffpmm mffpm?"
"Because." Damn it, now I'm down the far end of my bed, having walked, paced, there. I tut. Shake my head. "Thing is. I've never put much thought into being on this end of the game."
"Ffmmmp." Lili wiggles her bound body, as well she can anyway. Which makes me laugh. "True. You are super cute like that."
I stare some more, whilst Lili lays still, watching me back. She seems happy to wait on me, apparently enjoying, just as I do, the feeling of tight restrictive rope.
"Maybe." A thought, I cast the idea out, shrugging as I do. Is it good? "Have a struggle? See whether I've done a proper job?"
And struggle she does. An act which, fuck me, is amazing to watch.
She can't move much, my pulled taut ropes prevent that, but she can tug on her limbs. Either separately or together. This Lili does, squirming about on my bed, tugging at the ropes as small regular moans- whether of effort or arousal I can't tell -escape from behind her ballgag.
After five minutes of watching, during which time my own arousal levels rise and climb. During which time I go from stood still. To stood still mouth open. To reaching a hand up, teasing at my nipples, pinching, bringing them both to attention. To, finally and without realising I am at first, reaching down, rubbing at my clit, licking my lips as I do.
And all the while my eyes never leave Lili's bound nakedness. All the while I'm aware of her watching me back. Watching as I touch myself.
Are her moans getting louder because of what I'm doing?
That thought, eventually, makes its way through, shouting to be heard above the dominant parts of me which just want to stand here all night, watching Lili.
Dropping my hand I grin, and in seconds am up on my bed, straddling Lili's body, my own legs spread even wider then hers, my hands cupping at her breasts.
But not before I've yanked the ballgag off, tossing it across the room.
"Well it's about fuckmmmmm." Is all Lili manages to get out, grinning too, before my lips clamp around hers. Kissing. Kissing whilst I run hands all over her spread and pinned body. Kissing whilst I dry hump her, lacking a cock real or otherwise, but no less enthusiastic in my movements. Grinding my pussy into hers, both of us wet.
My rhythm builds, as do Lili's moans. As do my own. Both of us racing towards and over, into climax.
Out of breath, sweaty, we lay still, the urgent kisses of a few moments ago swapped for something altogether more tender. A lighter touch as we trade grins.
At some point I realise the gentle strokes up and down my back aren't imagined.
"Huh?" Bringing my head up off Lili's chest, where it'd been resting, turned to the side, eyes closed. I look left and right. "Lil?"
"Yes," giving me a sly smile, "B."
"Hmmm." Reaching around behind me I snare one of her arms, her other stays, hand resting on my butt, long fingernails tracing idle shapes which occasionally make me shiver. "Got free I see." Waving her arm, looking up the bed at the, now empty, loops of rope.
"Sorry." Still smiling, so clearly not sorry, Lili gestures down. "Legs are still tied though."
"Hmmm." Fixing her with a, not serious, frown. "Only because you can't reach them whilst I'm laid on you." I climb off, sitting side on to her, my butt pressed into her slightly curving belly. "Right?"
"Well."
"Honestly." I tut, then giggle. "Go on then, show me the rest of the trick."
She's free within five minutes. Only needing to sit up, bend at the waist, to reach down to each ankle in turn, to work on my amateur knots until she locates or creates some slack.
And, with Lili free, I half expect to find myself bullied- in a good natured way of course -or otherwise convinced to take a turn stretched out. My fluttering heart and tingling skin, my suddenly flopping stomach, believes a tie up is imminent anyway.
But.
No.
Which is fine. I love cuddles, which is what we do for the rest of the evening. Neither of us puts on any clothes, a decision which leads to the occasional bout of touching and teasing as we lay. Or sit, shifting positions as the mood takes us. We cuddle, using my laptop to watch whatever takes our fancy on YouTube. Taking turns, plunging down rabbit hole after rabbit hole as one video suggests another, and so on.
Another tie up, or three, would've been fun. But Lili and me are still learning to be together. We've only just begun to hang out, so, it's nice to simply cuddle and talk instead. And kiss of course.
Sometime around eleven I throw on an oversize tee and head downstairs to grab drinks and snacks, a purple wrapped bar of milk chocolate to share. The house is dark, the lights off. It seems Mum's already turned in for the night.
Knowing she'll be up early, off to work, which she occasionally does on a Sunday, I leave her a quick note. A final thank you for being so understanding of my springing Lili on her.
Back upstairs we watch more videos, sat up now side by side, bodies pressed gently together.
"Your choice Lil. Lil?"
She's asleep, looking down- Lili sank from sitting to laying, her head resting in my lap, from which position I'd been stroking her hair and back for the last twenty minutes -I spy closed eyes, a small smile.
Glancing across, at the bedside unit, I give my head a small shake. "Half two." Whispering, to myself. "Late indeed."
Slowly, carefully, I seperate myself from Lili's sleeping form, and pad naked to the bathroom, before returning and crawling, again carefully, into my bed beside her.
At which point she rolls over, towards me, throwing a tattooed forearm over my belly, snaking it around my F cups, pulling me into her. "Hmmm." I smile, burrowing my own arm under her body, hugging her close even whilst one of Lili's legs moves, crossing my two, further snaring my body against her own. "Goodnight pretty lady." Kissing her forehead.
"Night B." A gentle squeeze of my breast. I wait, breath held. Half expecting more- those looped ropes are all still in place. But. The only movement Lili makes is to snuggle in, giving my neck a small, light, kiss.
At least I remembered the curtains.
"Calm." I mutter. "Think it through."
On my bed, laid naked and ballgagged, looking so cute I'm tempted to toss the rope back onto the floor and mount her now, Lili gives me a little wave. And shakes her body, making her D cups, like twin hills topped by ceiling pointed nipples, shake.
She doesn't move any of her limbs to do this, all four are still, helpfully, pointed at the beds corners. All it needs is for me to use the rope I'm holding to attach girlfriend to bed.
Because if I don't odds are she'll only tie me instead. And, damn it, having decided to bind her, I want to at least try making my girlfriend helpless.
So. "Okay." I take a breath. "Let's do this."
Sitting down, my butt -I'm naked too, because why not -pressing gently into Lili's side, I take one of her arms, bringing it around so her hand is rested in my lap. "Just hold still." I let go of her hand, which immediately wanders, straight down to my inner thigh.
Very high up on my inner thigh.
"Hey." Giving her wrist a playful slap, grabbing up her hand and putting it back. "Stop it Lil," reaching back I give one of her nipples a squeeze, "just lay still and let me work."
Lili giggles, which sounds weird through and around a ballgag, but keeps her hand in place when I let go a second time. "Good." I nod. "Thank you."
With one piece of rope in hand, the other three are on the floor at my feet, I fold it in half to find the centre. "No doubt you could do this better." I comment, not looking behind me, frowning down at Lili's wrist. "Mfmmm pfff fppmmf mmm."
"Exactly." Nodding. Holding the rope against her wrist, wrapping each end around so they meet back at the top. "Hmm." It. Looks good, especially once I tie a simple, but tight, knot. Tight enough to pinch the skin of Lili's wrist.
Just to be sure I wrap the rope ends twice more around the wrist, after which I tie another knot. A double. "Just to be sure."
Standing, having bent forward first to scoop the remaining rope off the floor, I repeat my ropework on Lili's other three limbs. Each is now wrapped three times with rope, and secured by as tight a knot as my strength will allow.
"Um." A sudden thought, I pat Lili's left wrist, having sat back down to tie this final limb. "It isn't too tight I hope?"
"Mmf mmf." Shaking her head. "Good." I smile. Just because I love it to be super tight, I'm discovering I do anyway. And just because Lili happens to own her own bondage site, doesn't mean she shares that love. It's best to check. "Right. Well." Standing. "Best get the rest done huh."
"Mmmppf." Nodding, Lili, helpfully, spreads her four limbs out again.
My wooden bed, annoyingly, doesn't have any handy corner posts. Had I bought it, or to be correct had Mum bought it, after my discovery of bondage, I'd of picked something more suitable. Like a four poster. At least it has legs. I can work with that.
Starting with her left wrist, because that's where I'm still stood, I kneel beside my bed, and taking the two trailing ends of the rope already bound to her wrist I bring them down, over the side of the bed at the top corner towards the floor.
The gap between bed frame and carpeted floor isn't large, my beds actual legs are stubby. But at least they're round, which makes wrapping the rope around them, using the same wrap then knot principle as before, relatively easy.
I get to the third limb, the second ankle, before catching sight of Lili teasingly bouncing her already bed secured two limbs up and down, side to side.
Because I didn't think to take in the slack.
Because. "I'm only a novice." I huff, smiling as Lili gives me a cheeky wave with what should be -I thought it was anyway -a helpless wrist. "Yes yes." Waving back, which makes me giggle. "I see. Too much slack." Standing back up, shaking my head. "Hold on then Lil, I'm coming back around."
Back to the left wrist. Untie wrist from bed. At which point my cheeky girlfriend decides to whip her arm up into the air, tugging the rope free of my hands. "Ha." Shaking my head, smiling though as Lili looks across at me, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you mind Lil?" Holding out my open hand. "If. Someone." Prodding at her nipple, making her giggle. "Didn't keep playing around, they might be tied up already."
Which gets me back her wrist ropes.
This time, repeated on all four limbs, after wrapping the ends in seperate directions around the beds leg, I pull. And pull. Using my strength to take in the slack. Forcing my girlfriends limbs each in turn down onto the bed, flat, then forcing arms and legs to stretch out, reaching for the corners.
"And. We're done." I nod. Standing. Lili now very much does resemble a human X. All her limbs are pulled taut, muscles on legs and arms standing out from the strain my ropes are placing on them. "Okay?" Looking down, grinning. Lili nods, her gaze tracking up my naked body, over rounded F cups, to my face. "Not too tight?" A shake of her head. "Good."
Now, what the fuck do I do next?
"Mmfp?"
"I'm." Tapping my lips with a finger, resisting the urge to pace back and forth. "Thinking. Lil."
"Ffpmm mffpm?"
"Because." Damn it, now I'm down the far end of my bed, having walked, paced, there. I tut. Shake my head. "Thing is. I've never put much thought into being on this end of the game."
"Ffmmmp." Lili wiggles her bound body, as well she can anyway. Which makes me laugh. "True. You are super cute like that."
I stare some more, whilst Lili lays still, watching me back. She seems happy to wait on me, apparently enjoying, just as I do, the feeling of tight restrictive rope.
"Maybe." A thought, I cast the idea out, shrugging as I do. Is it good? "Have a struggle? See whether I've done a proper job?"
And struggle she does. An act which, fuck me, is amazing to watch.
She can't move much, my pulled taut ropes prevent that, but she can tug on her limbs. Either separately or together. This Lili does, squirming about on my bed, tugging at the ropes as small regular moans- whether of effort or arousal I can't tell -escape from behind her ballgag.
After five minutes of watching, during which time my own arousal levels rise and climb. During which time I go from stood still. To stood still mouth open. To reaching a hand up, teasing at my nipples, pinching, bringing them both to attention. To, finally and without realising I am at first, reaching down, rubbing at my clit, licking my lips as I do.
And all the while my eyes never leave Lili's bound nakedness. All the while I'm aware of her watching me back. Watching as I touch myself.
Are her moans getting louder because of what I'm doing?
That thought, eventually, makes its way through, shouting to be heard above the dominant parts of me which just want to stand here all night, watching Lili.
Dropping my hand I grin, and in seconds am up on my bed, straddling Lili's body, my own legs spread even wider then hers, my hands cupping at her breasts.
But not before I've yanked the ballgag off, tossing it across the room.
"Well it's about fuckmmmmm." Is all Lili manages to get out, grinning too, before my lips clamp around hers. Kissing. Kissing whilst I run hands all over her spread and pinned body. Kissing whilst I dry hump her, lacking a cock real or otherwise, but no less enthusiastic in my movements. Grinding my pussy into hers, both of us wet.
My rhythm builds, as do Lili's moans. As do my own. Both of us racing towards and over, into climax.
Out of breath, sweaty, we lay still, the urgent kisses of a few moments ago swapped for something altogether more tender. A lighter touch as we trade grins.
At some point I realise the gentle strokes up and down my back aren't imagined.
"Huh?" Bringing my head up off Lili's chest, where it'd been resting, turned to the side, eyes closed. I look left and right. "Lil?"
"Yes," giving me a sly smile, "B."
"Hmmm." Reaching around behind me I snare one of her arms, her other stays, hand resting on my butt, long fingernails tracing idle shapes which occasionally make me shiver. "Got free I see." Waving her arm, looking up the bed at the, now empty, loops of rope.
"Sorry." Still smiling, so clearly not sorry, Lili gestures down. "Legs are still tied though."
"Hmmm." Fixing her with a, not serious, frown. "Only because you can't reach them whilst I'm laid on you." I climb off, sitting side on to her, my butt pressed into her slightly curving belly. "Right?"
"Well."
"Honestly." I tut, then giggle. "Go on then, show me the rest of the trick."
She's free within five minutes. Only needing to sit up, bend at the waist, to reach down to each ankle in turn, to work on my amateur knots until she locates or creates some slack.
And, with Lili free, I half expect to find myself bullied- in a good natured way of course -or otherwise convinced to take a turn stretched out. My fluttering heart and tingling skin, my suddenly flopping stomach, believes a tie up is imminent anyway.
But.
No.
Which is fine. I love cuddles, which is what we do for the rest of the evening. Neither of us puts on any clothes, a decision which leads to the occasional bout of touching and teasing as we lay. Or sit, shifting positions as the mood takes us. We cuddle, using my laptop to watch whatever takes our fancy on YouTube. Taking turns, plunging down rabbit hole after rabbit hole as one video suggests another, and so on.
Another tie up, or three, would've been fun. But Lili and me are still learning to be together. We've only just begun to hang out, so, it's nice to simply cuddle and talk instead. And kiss of course.
Sometime around eleven I throw on an oversize tee and head downstairs to grab drinks and snacks, a purple wrapped bar of milk chocolate to share. The house is dark, the lights off. It seems Mum's already turned in for the night.
Knowing she'll be up early, off to work, which she occasionally does on a Sunday, I leave her a quick note. A final thank you for being so understanding of my springing Lili on her.
Back upstairs we watch more videos, sat up now side by side, bodies pressed gently together.
"Your choice Lil. Lil?"
She's asleep, looking down- Lili sank from sitting to laying, her head resting in my lap, from which position I'd been stroking her hair and back for the last twenty minutes -I spy closed eyes, a small smile.
Glancing across, at the bedside unit, I give my head a small shake. "Half two." Whispering, to myself. "Late indeed."
Slowly, carefully, I seperate myself from Lili's sleeping form, and pad naked to the bathroom, before returning and crawling, again carefully, into my bed beside her.
At which point she rolls over, towards me, throwing a tattooed forearm over my belly, snaking it around my F cups, pulling me into her. "Hmmm." I smile, burrowing my own arm under her body, hugging her close even whilst one of Lili's legs moves, crossing my two, further snaring my body against her own. "Goodnight pretty lady." Kissing her forehead.
"Night B." A gentle squeeze of my breast. I wait, breath held. Half expecting more- those looped ropes are all still in place. But. The only movement Lili makes is to snuggle in, giving my neck a small, light, kiss.
At least I remembered the curtains.
Lili is very kind and patient with her beginner friend. For no good reason, I was expecting more brattiness. It is a good thing that the author has more wisdom than I. Good work, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention].
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
019.
When I'm not being Plymouth, I work for the council.
Lay out a map of a city, or town. But I live in a city. Now draw a line around the boundary. Not a perfect circle? Don't worry. Next, as best you can, divide everything inside your line into zones.
They don't have to be the same size. They just have to have some logic to why you put those two estates together, or why that park is chopped in two.
Now. Each 'zone' gets a gang, of whatever size is needed based on what's there's to maintain: which will be all the grass, the trees, the litter people drop.
In the winter I help out with whatever Jeff, my gangs charge hand, or boss, needs an extra pair of hands on. In the summer, but actually from March until around October, I mow.
Which I'm doing now. On a cloudless day, which means the sun feels as though it's attempting to boil me alive.
I have to wear boots to do my job, big chunky black steel toe capped lace ups. And a yellow hi vis vest. Right now my vest is unzipped. My only other items of clothing being tiny light grey fabric gym shorts and a blue sports bra. Ideally I'd wear a bikini top it's so hot. But, my mower has no suspension, so it bounces all over the place, which means I- more importantly my enhanced F cups -bounce too.
And I get enough looks, plus hooted horns and friendly cat calls, from passers by as it is.
I'm halfway around the duck pond when I spot Jeff's yellow flat bed transit tipper, bumping up onto the kerb, steering a careful, though not slow, course across the grass towards me. Places like this, which have large open patches of grass, those larger areas get mown by the tractor crew, whilst us mower drivers handle the smaller parts. Around and under any trees.
Taking the opportunity to step out of the sun, if only briefly, I stop underneath a large beech tree, and shut my mower down, climbing off and giving my cutting decks a checkover- something I probably fo a half dozen times a day -whilst behind me Jeff parks up, and climbs out.
"Hey Brooke," I don't turn around, focusing instead on adjusting the blades, "how's it running?"
"Purring like a kitten." I smile, and spin the cylinder. Nodding at the sound of top cutter whispering against bottom rigid blade. Jeff's an ex mower driver, before he became boss, which opened up a vacancy.
Which is how I got this job.
I spin the assembly again, then stretch my arms wide, and stand. "What's up Je...."
Halfway through speaking, turning around, I discover Jeff isn't alone.
"Um."
"Brooke." Jeff, frowning, like something's wrong, gestures beside him. "You remember Andy?"
"Sure." Nodding. Andy, Jeff's bosses boss. Jeff's gang, all the gangs, are looked after by an office based team whose job is to field calls about fallen trees or fly tipping. Or, once, just after I started, a whole street which I forgot to cut twice in a row. Oops. This team allocates any additional work to the appropriate gang. Andy's office is next door to this team, he oversees them.
I've only met Andy once, at my interview.
I can't stop my initial grimace, my own frown of misunderstanding. What the fuck? Am I getting fired?
"Brooke." Andy, both he and Jeff have now joined me underneath the tree's offered shade, extends a shirt sleeve rolled up hand. "Good to see you again."
"Sure." Andy at least is smiling, though it's a nervous one. Is any kind of smile still a good sign? I shake the offered hand- nice silver watch, expensive. Jeff's hands are firmly stuffed into his camouflage cargo shorts pockets. No suit, even minus a tie, for him. "Andy. Hi." I try on a smile of my own. Jeff is still frowning. "What can I do for the two of you?"
The council issues us blue tee's- hence my bra colour choice -with the council crest printed in white on the back. Jeff's is worn untucked, paired with his own shorts and black steel toed boots. He's young, late twenties, over six foot and slim with it. An often smiling face is topped with short messy brown hair and a matching trimmed goatee. In contrast Andy's about half a foot shorter and ten plus years older, with a blonde buzz cut and clean shaven face. No tie or suit jacket, no doubt due to the heat, but his dark blue pinstripe trousers and white shirt look expensive. He's very well turned out.
"We've let Russell go."
"Russell." It's Jeff who spoke, not Andy, who's stood slightly to the side, arms crossed. I think. "The temp?"
Stan, one of our gangs older workers, is currently long term sick, recovering from a broken leg. Russell is, I do a quick count, the third temp we've had over the past month. But what does this have to do with me? I can't help but grin. "Well. Okay. But, Jeff, I can't see what help I can be there?"
"No." Jeff holds out a hand, towards Andy, who'd been about to speak. Returning his gaze to me Jeff shakes his head. "Let me explain, Brooke. We let Russell go because he knows who you are."
"Who I...." The smile falls off my face as though pushed from a tenth story window. I know, without any need for clarification, what Jeff means. "Fuck." Shaking my head. "Fuck." Looking down at myself, seeing. All these months, I've been a fool. Thinking I had this big secret, this other life. All private. How could anyone know, I thought.
And all the while the truth was. Is. Right there for anyone with eyes and half a brain to see.
My striking red hair.
My tattoo's, one of which, my mermaid, literally screams bondage, almost never hidden at work, or when I'm out.
My breasts. Alongside the tattoo's, not something I can hide. Not something I do hide.
All of those things, they all expose my secret. I might as well have the word 'Plymouth' tattooed on my forehead.
"Fuck." I say a third time, taking a breath, spreading my arms. "Right. Well. What happened?"
"Russell's been trying, whenever he's got one of us alone, to show us your. Um." Jeff, happily married with two young boys, looks down at his feet. Shakes his head, then brings his eyes back to meet mine. "He's been trying to show us your work, on his phone."
"Right." I grimace. Russell. The more I think on the past week and change, the time he's been here working. There were, at first, the usual flirts. A dropped compliment, a subtle hint. Stuff I think we're all used to, me more so now given how I look. But then, I recall the flirting changed, becoming more bondage themed. Which I'd, stupid not putting two and two together me, put down to his simply liking that.
But no. It seems Russell's a fan, of online bondage porn at least. And the ramping up of his flirting is likely the end result of his stumbling across some of my work, recognising me, and then. "Fuck me." I mutter, shaking my head. He, probably, had some kind of fantasy in the making. Getting to tie me up for real. Had I only returned his advances.
And, when I didn't. "So." I huff out a breath, looking from Jeff to Andy, fielding my question someplace in between. "Russell showed you my, other life. And." Reaching back to pat my mower, I'll miss her. "I'm guessing you're here to tell me I can't stay?"
"You. Well." Is Andy blushing? He can't, hasn't yet been able, to hold prolonged eye contact. Off the back of the Russell revelations my brain makes a sudden leap.
Andy's a fan. Not just of bondage. But of me.
Clearing his throat, whilst I try, in the face of this new knowledge, not to grin, Andy continues. "Brooke. You haven't, well. I've looked into everything. And you're not actually breaking contract."
"No?" I can't help the grin now. Looked into it. Into me. I'll bet he has. "Well." Looking back to Jeff, who at least is smiling now. "That's good. Yes?"
"Yes." Jeff nods. "Nobodies sacking anybody today."
"Except Russell."
"Right." Jeff half laughs, then seems to remember Andy, and the laugh becomes a cough.
"Look. Brooke." Jeff looks to Andy, a silent exchange. Andy nods. Jeff goes on. "What you do. The...."
"Filming?" I offer, watching Andy blush some more, look away. Oh, wow.
"Filming." Jeff nods his thanks at my supplied, safe, word. "Point is. You aren't doing it as a council employee. Nothing there to connect you to this job."
"Nothing except me."
"Right."
"So. What?" Surely I haven't escaped this with no damage. "I get to just, carry on." On impulse, and because I'm a tease, and because at this exact moment Andy's looking at me. I add, with a sly smile. "Getting tied up?"
"Must need to make a phone call." Jeff muses, apparently clueless, the two of us watching Andy near run back to the van to escape me. "Must be." I shrug, playing the innocent. "Anyway. Boss. What happens now?"
"Nothing."
"Really?" To good to be true.
"Well." Jeff makes a seesaw motion. "Go on then," waving an arm at him, "tell me."
"Can I just be blunt, Brooke?"
"Okay." I nod. "Go on and hit me with it."
"Thanks." Followed by a muttered. "No good at that corporate jargon shit." I laugh, Jeff smiles. "Anything ever comes up, in the future, connecting film you to this council, the shit will hit the fan."
"Where the shit's my job?"
"Got it. No way the big bosses want a scandal."
"Porn star cuts grass shocker." I spread out the words in the sky. Jeff smirks. "It could be twisted way worse, you know that, right?"
"I guess." A shrug. "No chance they'd stand by me, my right to live my life my way and all that?"
"Maybe if it was something else." Shaking his head. "But not porn."
"Is it even worth staying?" Feeling slightly defeated, hit for six. I love this job, but. "Does this mean I have to. What. Cover up? Come in every day just waiting to be exposed?"
"Don't be silly." Smiling. I can't help but smile back. "If it happens again, in any form. We've got your back."
"You've got...?"
"The gang." Spreading arms out wide, as though everyone were stood either side of him. Old Mick the ex farm hand, built like a truck, who never uses the vans brakes, slowing down, somehow, with gears only, because that's how it was done when he learnt nearly forty years ago. Thomas, who alongside crazy Owen picks up the litter. Ron, named rocket due to his one speed. Slow. Even Barney and Eddie. Jeff smiles. "I had a talk with them all earlier. And. If it happens again, we'll fight as best we can for you. We want you to stay. Brooke."
I think I might cry. To go from almost, I was so sure, sacked, to knowing the whole gang knows I do porn, and not one of them cares. "Jeff." I. Am. Speechless. Jeff smiles. "We're a team Brooke." Which is all he manages to say before I fling myself at him, wanting, needing, a hug.
At shifts end I hug everyone else, almost crying again. What did I do, to deserve such loyal workmates?
Life goes on.
Nothing from Zak. The main page of tightlytrussed has a new banner across the top, explaining the site won't carry any new updates until next year, several months away now. We've exchanged a couple of messages, I wanted to check on him. And, he's fine, but whatever called him away at short notice is too big to wrap up quickly. We aren't close enough for me to know just what the issue is.
No new offers of work come in, that I can make anyway. A website over in Germany reaches out to me, one where all the bondage is Superhero and comic themed. But, unfortunately, for them the website, the tying up, is a second, side, job. Just as it is for me. And the day's they're free I'm not. And I can't keep taking time off from the council, my annual leave allocation for the year is already down to single figures. But we end our email back and forth on a maybe, a promise from both sides to look into joint free time.
I think a holiday to Europe could be fun.
I will- I've said so before but soon I really will -have to put some kind of modelling portfolio together, and reach out to websites myself. Because the waiting is still, will always be, frustrating.
Lili, with whom things are going well. We talk often, via video link where possible. Plus she's driven across to me one Sunday, and I've taken the train to her on the spur of the moment, when a Tuesday evening video call turned extra steamy and I just had to see her. On the subject of work Lili's made several, semi serious, overtures about the two of us working together on something for her site. But so far nothings come of it.
And maybe it won't, and that's okay. How would a bondage shoot with my actual girlfriend work anyway? Wouldn't we be too busy making out to take the work seriously?
Clive's email, his request to hire me via the modelling profile I set up, arrives on a Thursday, in the evening, the day before I'm due to ride my new bike- which doesn't sound or look anywhere near as cool as Lili's, but it'll do for now -to see Lili for the weekend.
Luckily, for Clive, he wants me on the Sunday, when I was due to come back home. Lucky too, or convenient anyway, the place he wants me is halfway between Lili's town and my city.
Everything I'll need for Clive, is being provided by Clive, so I pack for Lili, kiss Mum goodbye- promising for the twentieth time to ride carefully -and set off after work through Friday late afternoon rush hour traffic. Traffic which doesn't thin the whole way there, but, if anything, the high volume keeps everyone's speed down. Which helps, since riding is still a skill I'm picking up.
"So." Sunday morning, and, the weekend's been amazing, a non stop blur of bike riding forest walking cuddled up fun. There was even a chance to meet Lili's parents, who know what she does, who are okay with what she does.
No doubt Mum, my Mum, would be okay too. I just haven't found the right time to tell her. But, I will.
About the only thing we haven't done this weekend is play with ropes. We both agreed not to, just this once, just, kinda, to prove we don't need that in order to get along.
"So." Stood in the underground car park just after midday on Sunday, beneath the block of new build flats Lili lives in. My bike, tiny and black, sat chained up next to her yellow beast. "Time I was leaving huh."
"Guess so." Nodding. "What's the hotel you're meeting this guy...."
"Clive."
"Clive." Nodding again. "What's it called?"
"It's a Mercure." I give her a friendly nudge with my helmet. "But don't you be showing up and stalking me."
"Who." Grinning. "Me?"
"No." Holding up a warning finger, but grinning.
"Just." Lili pulls me into a hug. "Ring me when it's all done, okay. B?"
"Sure." I think, recalling the details. "Around seven."
"Seven." Nodding. "I'll keep an eye on my phone."
We kiss, and then, helmet on, I ride away, to meet with Clive, something which promises, given his email, to be very interesting indeed.
When I'm not being Plymouth, I work for the council.
Lay out a map of a city, or town. But I live in a city. Now draw a line around the boundary. Not a perfect circle? Don't worry. Next, as best you can, divide everything inside your line into zones.
They don't have to be the same size. They just have to have some logic to why you put those two estates together, or why that park is chopped in two.
Now. Each 'zone' gets a gang, of whatever size is needed based on what's there's to maintain: which will be all the grass, the trees, the litter people drop.
In the winter I help out with whatever Jeff, my gangs charge hand, or boss, needs an extra pair of hands on. In the summer, but actually from March until around October, I mow.
Which I'm doing now. On a cloudless day, which means the sun feels as though it's attempting to boil me alive.
I have to wear boots to do my job, big chunky black steel toe capped lace ups. And a yellow hi vis vest. Right now my vest is unzipped. My only other items of clothing being tiny light grey fabric gym shorts and a blue sports bra. Ideally I'd wear a bikini top it's so hot. But, my mower has no suspension, so it bounces all over the place, which means I- more importantly my enhanced F cups -bounce too.
And I get enough looks, plus hooted horns and friendly cat calls, from passers by as it is.
I'm halfway around the duck pond when I spot Jeff's yellow flat bed transit tipper, bumping up onto the kerb, steering a careful, though not slow, course across the grass towards me. Places like this, which have large open patches of grass, those larger areas get mown by the tractor crew, whilst us mower drivers handle the smaller parts. Around and under any trees.
Taking the opportunity to step out of the sun, if only briefly, I stop underneath a large beech tree, and shut my mower down, climbing off and giving my cutting decks a checkover- something I probably fo a half dozen times a day -whilst behind me Jeff parks up, and climbs out.
"Hey Brooke," I don't turn around, focusing instead on adjusting the blades, "how's it running?"
"Purring like a kitten." I smile, and spin the cylinder. Nodding at the sound of top cutter whispering against bottom rigid blade. Jeff's an ex mower driver, before he became boss, which opened up a vacancy.
Which is how I got this job.
I spin the assembly again, then stretch my arms wide, and stand. "What's up Je...."
Halfway through speaking, turning around, I discover Jeff isn't alone.
"Um."
"Brooke." Jeff, frowning, like something's wrong, gestures beside him. "You remember Andy?"
"Sure." Nodding. Andy, Jeff's bosses boss. Jeff's gang, all the gangs, are looked after by an office based team whose job is to field calls about fallen trees or fly tipping. Or, once, just after I started, a whole street which I forgot to cut twice in a row. Oops. This team allocates any additional work to the appropriate gang. Andy's office is next door to this team, he oversees them.
I've only met Andy once, at my interview.
I can't stop my initial grimace, my own frown of misunderstanding. What the fuck? Am I getting fired?
"Brooke." Andy, both he and Jeff have now joined me underneath the tree's offered shade, extends a shirt sleeve rolled up hand. "Good to see you again."
"Sure." Andy at least is smiling, though it's a nervous one. Is any kind of smile still a good sign? I shake the offered hand- nice silver watch, expensive. Jeff's hands are firmly stuffed into his camouflage cargo shorts pockets. No suit, even minus a tie, for him. "Andy. Hi." I try on a smile of my own. Jeff is still frowning. "What can I do for the two of you?"
The council issues us blue tee's- hence my bra colour choice -with the council crest printed in white on the back. Jeff's is worn untucked, paired with his own shorts and black steel toed boots. He's young, late twenties, over six foot and slim with it. An often smiling face is topped with short messy brown hair and a matching trimmed goatee. In contrast Andy's about half a foot shorter and ten plus years older, with a blonde buzz cut and clean shaven face. No tie or suit jacket, no doubt due to the heat, but his dark blue pinstripe trousers and white shirt look expensive. He's very well turned out.
"We've let Russell go."
"Russell." It's Jeff who spoke, not Andy, who's stood slightly to the side, arms crossed. I think. "The temp?"
Stan, one of our gangs older workers, is currently long term sick, recovering from a broken leg. Russell is, I do a quick count, the third temp we've had over the past month. But what does this have to do with me? I can't help but grin. "Well. Okay. But, Jeff, I can't see what help I can be there?"
"No." Jeff holds out a hand, towards Andy, who'd been about to speak. Returning his gaze to me Jeff shakes his head. "Let me explain, Brooke. We let Russell go because he knows who you are."
"Who I...." The smile falls off my face as though pushed from a tenth story window. I know, without any need for clarification, what Jeff means. "Fuck." Shaking my head. "Fuck." Looking down at myself, seeing. All these months, I've been a fool. Thinking I had this big secret, this other life. All private. How could anyone know, I thought.
And all the while the truth was. Is. Right there for anyone with eyes and half a brain to see.
My striking red hair.
My tattoo's, one of which, my mermaid, literally screams bondage, almost never hidden at work, or when I'm out.
My breasts. Alongside the tattoo's, not something I can hide. Not something I do hide.
All of those things, they all expose my secret. I might as well have the word 'Plymouth' tattooed on my forehead.
"Fuck." I say a third time, taking a breath, spreading my arms. "Right. Well. What happened?"
"Russell's been trying, whenever he's got one of us alone, to show us your. Um." Jeff, happily married with two young boys, looks down at his feet. Shakes his head, then brings his eyes back to meet mine. "He's been trying to show us your work, on his phone."
"Right." I grimace. Russell. The more I think on the past week and change, the time he's been here working. There were, at first, the usual flirts. A dropped compliment, a subtle hint. Stuff I think we're all used to, me more so now given how I look. But then, I recall the flirting changed, becoming more bondage themed. Which I'd, stupid not putting two and two together me, put down to his simply liking that.
But no. It seems Russell's a fan, of online bondage porn at least. And the ramping up of his flirting is likely the end result of his stumbling across some of my work, recognising me, and then. "Fuck me." I mutter, shaking my head. He, probably, had some kind of fantasy in the making. Getting to tie me up for real. Had I only returned his advances.
And, when I didn't. "So." I huff out a breath, looking from Jeff to Andy, fielding my question someplace in between. "Russell showed you my, other life. And." Reaching back to pat my mower, I'll miss her. "I'm guessing you're here to tell me I can't stay?"
"You. Well." Is Andy blushing? He can't, hasn't yet been able, to hold prolonged eye contact. Off the back of the Russell revelations my brain makes a sudden leap.
Andy's a fan. Not just of bondage. But of me.
Clearing his throat, whilst I try, in the face of this new knowledge, not to grin, Andy continues. "Brooke. You haven't, well. I've looked into everything. And you're not actually breaking contract."
"No?" I can't help the grin now. Looked into it. Into me. I'll bet he has. "Well." Looking back to Jeff, who at least is smiling now. "That's good. Yes?"
"Yes." Jeff nods. "Nobodies sacking anybody today."
"Except Russell."
"Right." Jeff half laughs, then seems to remember Andy, and the laugh becomes a cough.
"Look. Brooke." Jeff looks to Andy, a silent exchange. Andy nods. Jeff goes on. "What you do. The...."
"Filming?" I offer, watching Andy blush some more, look away. Oh, wow.
"Filming." Jeff nods his thanks at my supplied, safe, word. "Point is. You aren't doing it as a council employee. Nothing there to connect you to this job."
"Nothing except me."
"Right."
"So. What?" Surely I haven't escaped this with no damage. "I get to just, carry on." On impulse, and because I'm a tease, and because at this exact moment Andy's looking at me. I add, with a sly smile. "Getting tied up?"
"Must need to make a phone call." Jeff muses, apparently clueless, the two of us watching Andy near run back to the van to escape me. "Must be." I shrug, playing the innocent. "Anyway. Boss. What happens now?"
"Nothing."
"Really?" To good to be true.
"Well." Jeff makes a seesaw motion. "Go on then," waving an arm at him, "tell me."
"Can I just be blunt, Brooke?"
"Okay." I nod. "Go on and hit me with it."
"Thanks." Followed by a muttered. "No good at that corporate jargon shit." I laugh, Jeff smiles. "Anything ever comes up, in the future, connecting film you to this council, the shit will hit the fan."
"Where the shit's my job?"
"Got it. No way the big bosses want a scandal."
"Porn star cuts grass shocker." I spread out the words in the sky. Jeff smirks. "It could be twisted way worse, you know that, right?"
"I guess." A shrug. "No chance they'd stand by me, my right to live my life my way and all that?"
"Maybe if it was something else." Shaking his head. "But not porn."
"Is it even worth staying?" Feeling slightly defeated, hit for six. I love this job, but. "Does this mean I have to. What. Cover up? Come in every day just waiting to be exposed?"
"Don't be silly." Smiling. I can't help but smile back. "If it happens again, in any form. We've got your back."
"You've got...?"
"The gang." Spreading arms out wide, as though everyone were stood either side of him. Old Mick the ex farm hand, built like a truck, who never uses the vans brakes, slowing down, somehow, with gears only, because that's how it was done when he learnt nearly forty years ago. Thomas, who alongside crazy Owen picks up the litter. Ron, named rocket due to his one speed. Slow. Even Barney and Eddie. Jeff smiles. "I had a talk with them all earlier. And. If it happens again, we'll fight as best we can for you. We want you to stay. Brooke."
I think I might cry. To go from almost, I was so sure, sacked, to knowing the whole gang knows I do porn, and not one of them cares. "Jeff." I. Am. Speechless. Jeff smiles. "We're a team Brooke." Which is all he manages to say before I fling myself at him, wanting, needing, a hug.
At shifts end I hug everyone else, almost crying again. What did I do, to deserve such loyal workmates?
Life goes on.
Nothing from Zak. The main page of tightlytrussed has a new banner across the top, explaining the site won't carry any new updates until next year, several months away now. We've exchanged a couple of messages, I wanted to check on him. And, he's fine, but whatever called him away at short notice is too big to wrap up quickly. We aren't close enough for me to know just what the issue is.
No new offers of work come in, that I can make anyway. A website over in Germany reaches out to me, one where all the bondage is Superhero and comic themed. But, unfortunately, for them the website, the tying up, is a second, side, job. Just as it is for me. And the day's they're free I'm not. And I can't keep taking time off from the council, my annual leave allocation for the year is already down to single figures. But we end our email back and forth on a maybe, a promise from both sides to look into joint free time.
I think a holiday to Europe could be fun.
I will- I've said so before but soon I really will -have to put some kind of modelling portfolio together, and reach out to websites myself. Because the waiting is still, will always be, frustrating.
Lili, with whom things are going well. We talk often, via video link where possible. Plus she's driven across to me one Sunday, and I've taken the train to her on the spur of the moment, when a Tuesday evening video call turned extra steamy and I just had to see her. On the subject of work Lili's made several, semi serious, overtures about the two of us working together on something for her site. But so far nothings come of it.
And maybe it won't, and that's okay. How would a bondage shoot with my actual girlfriend work anyway? Wouldn't we be too busy making out to take the work seriously?
Clive's email, his request to hire me via the modelling profile I set up, arrives on a Thursday, in the evening, the day before I'm due to ride my new bike- which doesn't sound or look anywhere near as cool as Lili's, but it'll do for now -to see Lili for the weekend.
Luckily, for Clive, he wants me on the Sunday, when I was due to come back home. Lucky too, or convenient anyway, the place he wants me is halfway between Lili's town and my city.
Everything I'll need for Clive, is being provided by Clive, so I pack for Lili, kiss Mum goodbye- promising for the twentieth time to ride carefully -and set off after work through Friday late afternoon rush hour traffic. Traffic which doesn't thin the whole way there, but, if anything, the high volume keeps everyone's speed down. Which helps, since riding is still a skill I'm picking up.
"So." Sunday morning, and, the weekend's been amazing, a non stop blur of bike riding forest walking cuddled up fun. There was even a chance to meet Lili's parents, who know what she does, who are okay with what she does.
No doubt Mum, my Mum, would be okay too. I just haven't found the right time to tell her. But, I will.
About the only thing we haven't done this weekend is play with ropes. We both agreed not to, just this once, just, kinda, to prove we don't need that in order to get along.
"So." Stood in the underground car park just after midday on Sunday, beneath the block of new build flats Lili lives in. My bike, tiny and black, sat chained up next to her yellow beast. "Time I was leaving huh."
"Guess so." Nodding. "What's the hotel you're meeting this guy...."
"Clive."
"Clive." Nodding again. "What's it called?"
"It's a Mercure." I give her a friendly nudge with my helmet. "But don't you be showing up and stalking me."
"Who." Grinning. "Me?"
"No." Holding up a warning finger, but grinning.
"Just." Lili pulls me into a hug. "Ring me when it's all done, okay. B?"
"Sure." I think, recalling the details. "Around seven."
"Seven." Nodding. "I'll keep an eye on my phone."
We kiss, and then, helmet on, I ride away, to meet with Clive, something which promises, given his email, to be very interesting indeed.
WOW, that really is a fantastic work team. I think that Plymouth really is a lucky person. From her real life work team to the colleagues, jobs, and playmate she has met through her extra curricular activities, all have been good to her. I do hope that keeps up.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
-
tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Just wonderful. Such compassion and humanity, what the world needs right now 
020.
'Plymouth.
On the second Sunday of each month, the Mercure hotel in Nottingham plays host to...
Fanfare please.
The Kink Ball.
To save my explaining too much, I'll attach a link (link) which will do a better job then me anyway. lol.
As you'll read, the ball runs from four until midnight, however, not being rich, I'd simply like to hire you, as company/a date, from four until six.
I'd just like, for once, to attend with someone. Do the rounds, be seen. I hope you understand?
The link should make the specifics of how you'll be accompanying me clear enough, but, please come at me with any questions.
I hope you're free, and willing to join me?
Clive.'
Of course I clicked the link. And. This, Kink Ball. Wow.
Someone rich must be backing this, because on that Sunday the whole hotel becomes a house of kink. No other guests are allowed. The website has pictures, of a conference room, a large open space hung and decked out in blacks and reds. Tables at one end, freestanding crosses and posts, plus other things made of wood and metal, at the other. Every piece of furniture is made bondage ready with the addition of metal rings. And, over by the bar, several large wooden tubs, each one full and overflowing with ropes and chains and gags.
A place, according to the blurb, where anything goes.
Within a select few set, and policed discreetly- again according to the blurb -by the organisers, rules.
Basically it comes down to: if you're wearing a collar, and have no lead attached. No owner. You're fair game. Nobody can be gagged without permission first being sought, but, if you say yes, then, once gagged, anything goes. The safest bet, for someone of a submissive mindset, like me- wink -would be to not wear a collar, and to just say no.
Safe. Yes. Boring. Yes. Anyone coming here is, clearly, kinky. Either someone looking to take charge. Or someone who loves nothing more then some proper helplessness.
I'll be with Clive. Owned, as far as the rules go. And when we spoke over the phone, on Friday, he assured me that, despite being gagged, no harm would befall me, since he won't be leaving my side at any point, and will only be sticking to a pre agreed script. A list of things, talked over on that same phone call, that I'll allow him to do to or with me in the time he's booked me for.
(My first mistake: not asking for a copy of the list, the script we'd agreed, in writing.)
I can't help though, as I lock my bike up to a handy lamppost outside the hotel, that small tingle deep inside. That, dangerous I realise, but I can't help the direction of my own most secret fantasies. I can't help a small, quiet, wish.
What if Clive abandons me?
What if, gagged but still collared, and therefore fair game, something happens off script?
I. Don't want things to go bad here.
I. Want to be safe.
Right?
But. "Damn, I'd love to go on an adventure." I nod, patting my bikes saddle, and head inside.
"Clive?" Staring, I know I'm staring. But. "Are you. Um." I peer at the wall beside the door. "Is this room three oh six?"
"Plymouth." He's staring too, which, given I'm still dressed to impress Lili- tight butt hugging white jeans and a purple vest top showing acres of cleavage worn under my black fabric, but padded, biker jacket -isn't a surprise.
But. "Clive. Right?"
"Yes." Tearing eyes away from my cleavage, and with enhanced F's you get enough to last all week, up to my grinning face. He nods. "Sorry. I'm Clive." He steps back, making room. "Please, Plymouth, come in."
My confusion. Well, I didn't expect someone my age, no way Clive's twenty, to have the funds to hire me for two hours.
Because, when I made the profile I, purposefully, hiked my prices towards the high end of the spectrum. Doing so in hopes of deterring window shoppers or people who only wanted a quick fuck. Which I wouldn't do anyway.
He's skinny, lacking any visible muscle. About my height with messy brown hair, the kind you style to look messy, but no beard. Dressed in black loose gym shorts and a white tee, I can see some sort of curling and looping black tattoo design climbing his skinny right leg.
"Here. The, um." Embarrassed, holding out an envelope. I take it, it's thick. "Do you want to. Well?"
"No." I stuff the envelope into my messenger bag, before fixing Clive with a look. "I'm sure it's all there. Yes?"
"Um. Yes. It's...."
"Relax." Damn but he's nervous. I grin, giving Clive a nudge. "I'm just teasing."
"Oh." Giving me a, nervous, half smile. "Sure."
"So." Glancing at the digital clock on the wall, four oh five. "Shall I get ready?"
"Please." Gesturing to the bed. "If you. Well. Then I'll help. Um. After."
"Sure." I nod.
Clive goes into the bathroom, and by the time he emerges, looking very dapper in a black pinstripe suit with white shirt and blood red tie, I'm as ready as I can be. Without help anyway.
"Very posh."
"Thanks." Clive grins. "You look." Silently nodding. "Just."
"That good huh?"
"Fuck me yes."
"Good." I giggle. "Now then." A wink. "Boss." Clive blushes, I giggle again, gesturing at the still piled stuff on the bed. "Come here and finish dressing me up. We've," I nod at the clock, it's four twenty, "got a ball to attend."
(My second mistake: allowing a complete stranger to render me completely helpless.)
I'm naked underneath the latex one piece. I don't own one- yet -but know from reviews that even a thong will be plainly visible. It's white, and very small. But it stretches where needed, most notably to accommodate my large bust without looking silly. The whole thing hugs me like a second skin, showing off every curve, the twin bumps of my nipples. The only parts of me not covered by it are: face, hands, feet.
Which I begin to take care of next.
The latex seals closed with a front zip, which is actually three zips running a line from neck to the small of my back. This arrangement means, I think, that my breasts, or pussy, could be made accessible whilst the rest of me remained tightly enclosed.
Next up are boots. Black leather thigh highs that take forever to first slip on, then lace up. No easy zip fastening here, both boots must be laced from ankle to thigh. The heel on these is suicidal, so tall my feet are near pointing at the ground. But with only a few moments practice I believe I can, prehaps due to how in shape I keep, balance and walk with confidence. No shuffling steps from me.
Lastly, of the things I managed myself, are black latex elbow length gloves.
So now it's only my face. And Clive is about to see to that.
With my long dyed red hair piled atop my head, Clive slips on the black latex hood. It seals tight by way of laces running from neck upwards, and covers my whole head save mouth, nose, and eyes. My signature locks, and tattoo's, are now hidden away.
(Mistake number three: not wondering at the implications of covering up everything that shows me to be Plymouth.)
The collar Clive puts on me is large, made to hold my head up, keeping it in place. The black leather is rigid. Once on me, and laced up at the back, it covers my whole neck. I can no longer look down, nor side to side with any real ease.
Next up is a corset. Black. Once tightened behind me- everything on me seems to be lace up today -it pinches and narrows my already skinny waist and flat toned belly. The corset also serves to accentuate my breasts, pushing them up, offering them out.
"Is this. Um." Holding what I know to be a gag of some sort, Clive pauses. "Are you okay?"
"Definitely." I smile, to show how okay I am in all this tight and restrictive stuff. "Carry on. Please."
"You're sure." Stepping from foot to foot, on the spot, his face washing from lust to nerves to fear to happiness to something like hope and back. "I. Um. Well...."
"Clive."
"Oh. Um. Yes?"
"It's fine." I take the gag from him. He resists, briefly, but then let's go. "Come on and finish up," I smile, holding the gag in front of my mouth, "this is going to be fun."
(Mistake number four: gagging myself, which, by the rules, can be read as granting permission for everything that followed.)
Opening wide I bite down on the gag. The front is a black slightly curved panel of stiff leather, rectangular in shape, covering my mouth completely. Behind the panel, fixed to it, is a rubber ball which will do an excellent job of shutting me up.
Clive still seems semi frozen to the spot, so, being helpful, I buckle the gag in place myself, being sure to find the tightest setting I can.
"Mmffpm." Holding out the final item, waving it up and down. Clive blinks, coming out of whatever funk he'd temporarily been in. "Right." A grin spreading across his face, he takes the armbinder from me. "Sorry. Um. Plymouth. Let's get you finished off."
It's like a large single sleeve, wide at one end, then narrowing. The wide end slips over my wrists, held behind me, then as Clive works the sleeve higher it captures both arms, bringing them together. At the wide end are two belts. These go each over a shoulder, crisscross above my breasts, before buckling to the armbinder under the opposite armpit. The top of the armbinder, which is black, has laces running the whole length. Working his way up, like me with my boots earlier, Clive is able to tighten the sleeve, bringing my arms properly together.
My hands stick out from the armbinders small open end, pressed palm to palm together.
I am now, with the armbinder and gag, completely helpless. The only skin visible being a small section of face that encompasses nose and eyes.
"There." Clipping a blood red lead onto the single silver ring at the front of my rigid collar. "All done."
It's half past four.
Walking the hotel corridors is a very strange thing indeed. I've never been collared, never been dressed in this manner, clothing which, certainly alongside my gag and bound arms, plus the fact I'm allowing myself to be led around like. Well. Like some kind of slave. The whole thing is giving me some very new sensations.
Not bad ones. Far from it. Being so submissive, surrendering literally all control to Clive. It's making me really horny.
(Mistake number five: that I get far too turned on whilst tied up to think sensibly.)
From his room we walk- Clive seems impressed by my ability to proceed at a normal pace in such crazy boots -to the lift. Where I encounter the first of many other hotel, and therefore ball, guests.
Two couples are already waiting for the lift.
The first, prehaps mid thirties, has the man wearing dark blue suit trousers and a light blue shirt, whilst the lady is dressed in a black dress, something long that hugs her slender small chested figure, something you really would wear to a ball. It's the man who's gagged, amusingly with his own black tie. He's collared too, his lead grasped loosely but securely by his lady. His boss. As they enter the lift ahead of me I catch sight of his wrists, cuffed behind him.
The second are younger, twenty somethings. The guy, long hair and a beard, is dressed casually in faded black jeans and a yellow surfer tee. No dress code for the ball, so no problem. His partner, a large girl, quite round and short, with plump legs and arms, is topless. She too has jeans on, faded blue for her, but her large breasts, quite possibly F's like mine, though hers droop more, are exposed. She's collared, her surfer man holding the lead of course, but has no gag. Her wrists are crossed behind her, all wrapped up in thick black tape that pins them to her waist too.
Clive, the nearest of us not bound, leans across me to push for the ground floor. My breath catches, for a moment, at the feel of his weight pressed against my breasts. The lift pings its acknowledgement, and begins to close the doors.
An act halted at the last moment, as a trainer clad foot darts into the gap, stopping them, allowing a lady to slip in through the gap, joining us.
She's, I reckon, fourty. Not so slim, but far more curvy then plump, maybe a size twelve like Lili. Tartan pattern leggings, mostly green, have been paired with a white untucked shirt. She's rolled the sleeves up, and undone the shirt at least halfway, pulling it open, making her D cups, which aren't nestled in a bra, clearly visible.
Dangling between her breasts are small keys on a black thong, whose purpose soon becomes clear.
Excluding the door the lift has, of course, three walls. Each wall is black up to waist height, where a silver bar which runs the length of the wall divides the black wall carpet from a mirror. The mirror runs all the way to the ceiling. Having produced two pairs of metal police style cuffs, from somewhere, the lady proceeds with some difficulty to cuff herself to the silver bar of the wall across from the door. At each end, near the corners, the bar attaches to the wall. This is where the cuffs go, forcing her arms out wide, leaving her quite helpless.
She's collared too. A slim silver collar, like a ring around the neck with a single smaller ring at the front. No lead, no owner. This lady, cuffed up and waiting. On display. Is fair game.
She grins at us as the lift pings, stopping it's smooth descent with a bump. The doors open, and out we troop. Those of us that can leave anyway.
Glancing up, and across, wondering just what will happen to her: this lady willing to wait- breasts out -in a lift, as Clive leads me away, she sees me looking. And winks. And shakes her breasts at me. "Have fun." She calls.
And then, whether meaning to or not, Clive tugs harder then usual on my leash, jerking my neck forward, forcing me to walk faster to keep up.
Ahead, through open double doors, lies the conference room, converted for tonight into a ballroom of kink.
"Just." Clive, beside me now I've caught up, takes a breath, eyes locked ahead, staring. "Stick with the plan." Taking a second deep breath, turning his head to look at me. A nod, a smile. "Just." Muttered. "Stick to the plan."
(Mistake number six: that it never occurred to me Clive's plan might not be the one he chose to share with me in his initial message.)
'Plymouth.
On the second Sunday of each month, the Mercure hotel in Nottingham plays host to...
Fanfare please.
The Kink Ball.
To save my explaining too much, I'll attach a link (link) which will do a better job then me anyway. lol.
As you'll read, the ball runs from four until midnight, however, not being rich, I'd simply like to hire you, as company/a date, from four until six.
I'd just like, for once, to attend with someone. Do the rounds, be seen. I hope you understand?
The link should make the specifics of how you'll be accompanying me clear enough, but, please come at me with any questions.
I hope you're free, and willing to join me?
Clive.'
Of course I clicked the link. And. This, Kink Ball. Wow.
Someone rich must be backing this, because on that Sunday the whole hotel becomes a house of kink. No other guests are allowed. The website has pictures, of a conference room, a large open space hung and decked out in blacks and reds. Tables at one end, freestanding crosses and posts, plus other things made of wood and metal, at the other. Every piece of furniture is made bondage ready with the addition of metal rings. And, over by the bar, several large wooden tubs, each one full and overflowing with ropes and chains and gags.
A place, according to the blurb, where anything goes.
Within a select few set, and policed discreetly- again according to the blurb -by the organisers, rules.
Basically it comes down to: if you're wearing a collar, and have no lead attached. No owner. You're fair game. Nobody can be gagged without permission first being sought, but, if you say yes, then, once gagged, anything goes. The safest bet, for someone of a submissive mindset, like me- wink -would be to not wear a collar, and to just say no.
Safe. Yes. Boring. Yes. Anyone coming here is, clearly, kinky. Either someone looking to take charge. Or someone who loves nothing more then some proper helplessness.
I'll be with Clive. Owned, as far as the rules go. And when we spoke over the phone, on Friday, he assured me that, despite being gagged, no harm would befall me, since he won't be leaving my side at any point, and will only be sticking to a pre agreed script. A list of things, talked over on that same phone call, that I'll allow him to do to or with me in the time he's booked me for.
(My first mistake: not asking for a copy of the list, the script we'd agreed, in writing.)
I can't help though, as I lock my bike up to a handy lamppost outside the hotel, that small tingle deep inside. That, dangerous I realise, but I can't help the direction of my own most secret fantasies. I can't help a small, quiet, wish.
What if Clive abandons me?
What if, gagged but still collared, and therefore fair game, something happens off script?
I. Don't want things to go bad here.
I. Want to be safe.
Right?
But. "Damn, I'd love to go on an adventure." I nod, patting my bikes saddle, and head inside.
"Clive?" Staring, I know I'm staring. But. "Are you. Um." I peer at the wall beside the door. "Is this room three oh six?"
"Plymouth." He's staring too, which, given I'm still dressed to impress Lili- tight butt hugging white jeans and a purple vest top showing acres of cleavage worn under my black fabric, but padded, biker jacket -isn't a surprise.
But. "Clive. Right?"
"Yes." Tearing eyes away from my cleavage, and with enhanced F's you get enough to last all week, up to my grinning face. He nods. "Sorry. I'm Clive." He steps back, making room. "Please, Plymouth, come in."
My confusion. Well, I didn't expect someone my age, no way Clive's twenty, to have the funds to hire me for two hours.
Because, when I made the profile I, purposefully, hiked my prices towards the high end of the spectrum. Doing so in hopes of deterring window shoppers or people who only wanted a quick fuck. Which I wouldn't do anyway.
He's skinny, lacking any visible muscle. About my height with messy brown hair, the kind you style to look messy, but no beard. Dressed in black loose gym shorts and a white tee, I can see some sort of curling and looping black tattoo design climbing his skinny right leg.
"Here. The, um." Embarrassed, holding out an envelope. I take it, it's thick. "Do you want to. Well?"
"No." I stuff the envelope into my messenger bag, before fixing Clive with a look. "I'm sure it's all there. Yes?"
"Um. Yes. It's...."
"Relax." Damn but he's nervous. I grin, giving Clive a nudge. "I'm just teasing."
"Oh." Giving me a, nervous, half smile. "Sure."
"So." Glancing at the digital clock on the wall, four oh five. "Shall I get ready?"
"Please." Gesturing to the bed. "If you. Well. Then I'll help. Um. After."
"Sure." I nod.
Clive goes into the bathroom, and by the time he emerges, looking very dapper in a black pinstripe suit with white shirt and blood red tie, I'm as ready as I can be. Without help anyway.
"Very posh."
"Thanks." Clive grins. "You look." Silently nodding. "Just."
"That good huh?"
"Fuck me yes."
"Good." I giggle. "Now then." A wink. "Boss." Clive blushes, I giggle again, gesturing at the still piled stuff on the bed. "Come here and finish dressing me up. We've," I nod at the clock, it's four twenty, "got a ball to attend."
(My second mistake: allowing a complete stranger to render me completely helpless.)
I'm naked underneath the latex one piece. I don't own one- yet -but know from reviews that even a thong will be plainly visible. It's white, and very small. But it stretches where needed, most notably to accommodate my large bust without looking silly. The whole thing hugs me like a second skin, showing off every curve, the twin bumps of my nipples. The only parts of me not covered by it are: face, hands, feet.
Which I begin to take care of next.
The latex seals closed with a front zip, which is actually three zips running a line from neck to the small of my back. This arrangement means, I think, that my breasts, or pussy, could be made accessible whilst the rest of me remained tightly enclosed.
Next up are boots. Black leather thigh highs that take forever to first slip on, then lace up. No easy zip fastening here, both boots must be laced from ankle to thigh. The heel on these is suicidal, so tall my feet are near pointing at the ground. But with only a few moments practice I believe I can, prehaps due to how in shape I keep, balance and walk with confidence. No shuffling steps from me.
Lastly, of the things I managed myself, are black latex elbow length gloves.
So now it's only my face. And Clive is about to see to that.
With my long dyed red hair piled atop my head, Clive slips on the black latex hood. It seals tight by way of laces running from neck upwards, and covers my whole head save mouth, nose, and eyes. My signature locks, and tattoo's, are now hidden away.
(Mistake number three: not wondering at the implications of covering up everything that shows me to be Plymouth.)
The collar Clive puts on me is large, made to hold my head up, keeping it in place. The black leather is rigid. Once on me, and laced up at the back, it covers my whole neck. I can no longer look down, nor side to side with any real ease.
Next up is a corset. Black. Once tightened behind me- everything on me seems to be lace up today -it pinches and narrows my already skinny waist and flat toned belly. The corset also serves to accentuate my breasts, pushing them up, offering them out.
"Is this. Um." Holding what I know to be a gag of some sort, Clive pauses. "Are you okay?"
"Definitely." I smile, to show how okay I am in all this tight and restrictive stuff. "Carry on. Please."
"You're sure." Stepping from foot to foot, on the spot, his face washing from lust to nerves to fear to happiness to something like hope and back. "I. Um. Well...."
"Clive."
"Oh. Um. Yes?"
"It's fine." I take the gag from him. He resists, briefly, but then let's go. "Come on and finish up," I smile, holding the gag in front of my mouth, "this is going to be fun."
(Mistake number four: gagging myself, which, by the rules, can be read as granting permission for everything that followed.)
Opening wide I bite down on the gag. The front is a black slightly curved panel of stiff leather, rectangular in shape, covering my mouth completely. Behind the panel, fixed to it, is a rubber ball which will do an excellent job of shutting me up.
Clive still seems semi frozen to the spot, so, being helpful, I buckle the gag in place myself, being sure to find the tightest setting I can.
"Mmffpm." Holding out the final item, waving it up and down. Clive blinks, coming out of whatever funk he'd temporarily been in. "Right." A grin spreading across his face, he takes the armbinder from me. "Sorry. Um. Plymouth. Let's get you finished off."
It's like a large single sleeve, wide at one end, then narrowing. The wide end slips over my wrists, held behind me, then as Clive works the sleeve higher it captures both arms, bringing them together. At the wide end are two belts. These go each over a shoulder, crisscross above my breasts, before buckling to the armbinder under the opposite armpit. The top of the armbinder, which is black, has laces running the whole length. Working his way up, like me with my boots earlier, Clive is able to tighten the sleeve, bringing my arms properly together.
My hands stick out from the armbinders small open end, pressed palm to palm together.
I am now, with the armbinder and gag, completely helpless. The only skin visible being a small section of face that encompasses nose and eyes.
"There." Clipping a blood red lead onto the single silver ring at the front of my rigid collar. "All done."
It's half past four.
Walking the hotel corridors is a very strange thing indeed. I've never been collared, never been dressed in this manner, clothing which, certainly alongside my gag and bound arms, plus the fact I'm allowing myself to be led around like. Well. Like some kind of slave. The whole thing is giving me some very new sensations.
Not bad ones. Far from it. Being so submissive, surrendering literally all control to Clive. It's making me really horny.
(Mistake number five: that I get far too turned on whilst tied up to think sensibly.)
From his room we walk- Clive seems impressed by my ability to proceed at a normal pace in such crazy boots -to the lift. Where I encounter the first of many other hotel, and therefore ball, guests.
Two couples are already waiting for the lift.
The first, prehaps mid thirties, has the man wearing dark blue suit trousers and a light blue shirt, whilst the lady is dressed in a black dress, something long that hugs her slender small chested figure, something you really would wear to a ball. It's the man who's gagged, amusingly with his own black tie. He's collared too, his lead grasped loosely but securely by his lady. His boss. As they enter the lift ahead of me I catch sight of his wrists, cuffed behind him.
The second are younger, twenty somethings. The guy, long hair and a beard, is dressed casually in faded black jeans and a yellow surfer tee. No dress code for the ball, so no problem. His partner, a large girl, quite round and short, with plump legs and arms, is topless. She too has jeans on, faded blue for her, but her large breasts, quite possibly F's like mine, though hers droop more, are exposed. She's collared, her surfer man holding the lead of course, but has no gag. Her wrists are crossed behind her, all wrapped up in thick black tape that pins them to her waist too.
Clive, the nearest of us not bound, leans across me to push for the ground floor. My breath catches, for a moment, at the feel of his weight pressed against my breasts. The lift pings its acknowledgement, and begins to close the doors.
An act halted at the last moment, as a trainer clad foot darts into the gap, stopping them, allowing a lady to slip in through the gap, joining us.
She's, I reckon, fourty. Not so slim, but far more curvy then plump, maybe a size twelve like Lili. Tartan pattern leggings, mostly green, have been paired with a white untucked shirt. She's rolled the sleeves up, and undone the shirt at least halfway, pulling it open, making her D cups, which aren't nestled in a bra, clearly visible.
Dangling between her breasts are small keys on a black thong, whose purpose soon becomes clear.
Excluding the door the lift has, of course, three walls. Each wall is black up to waist height, where a silver bar which runs the length of the wall divides the black wall carpet from a mirror. The mirror runs all the way to the ceiling. Having produced two pairs of metal police style cuffs, from somewhere, the lady proceeds with some difficulty to cuff herself to the silver bar of the wall across from the door. At each end, near the corners, the bar attaches to the wall. This is where the cuffs go, forcing her arms out wide, leaving her quite helpless.
She's collared too. A slim silver collar, like a ring around the neck with a single smaller ring at the front. No lead, no owner. This lady, cuffed up and waiting. On display. Is fair game.
She grins at us as the lift pings, stopping it's smooth descent with a bump. The doors open, and out we troop. Those of us that can leave anyway.
Glancing up, and across, wondering just what will happen to her: this lady willing to wait- breasts out -in a lift, as Clive leads me away, she sees me looking. And winks. And shakes her breasts at me. "Have fun." She calls.
And then, whether meaning to or not, Clive tugs harder then usual on my leash, jerking my neck forward, forcing me to walk faster to keep up.
Ahead, through open double doors, lies the conference room, converted for tonight into a ballroom of kink.
"Just." Clive, beside me now I've caught up, takes a breath, eyes locked ahead, staring. "Stick with the plan." Taking a second deep breath, turning his head to look at me. A nod, a smile. "Just." Muttered. "Stick to the plan."
(Mistake number six: that it never occurred to me Clive's plan might not be the one he chose to share with me in his initial message.)
Oh dear, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. I have been worried the Plymouth's luck was going to run out. But has it or has it not. All we know is that Clive has different plans. They could be good plans. Good for Plymouth. Or maybe not!
Your writing is up to your usual high standards. Looking forward to learning Clive's plans.
Your writing is up to your usual high standards. Looking forward to learning Clive's plans.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Oh dear, she’s really not been thinking straight has she…. Almost feeling sorry for her, let’s hope Clive has some gentlemanly qualities!
021.
The ballroom.
We enter through oak double doors, wedged open. But first Clive has to give his name, show some kind of printed paper, to a jeans and black tee wearing man sat relaxing in a comfortable looking dark red leather armchair beside one of the doors. Beside this man, tall with a rugby players build, like a walking tank, is a small table, upon which a bottle of water and two way radio holds down a stack of papers. Like the one Clive's handing over.
I'm not asked for my name, the fact of which, that I'm basically an accessory. A thing. Gives me a definite tingle of pleasure.
Identity proven, we're waved through. Into quite possibly the kinkiest room anyone ever tried to imagine.
A half dozen paces in, Clive pauses. Eyes scanning left and right as though seeking out someone. I take the offered chance to glance around myself.
There are roughly two dozen people already in attendance. Added to which will be an untold amount still getting ready, or wandering the hotel corridors. Or even, like the lady in the lift, already locked away someplace, either voluntarily or because, if they happen to be gagged, they've had no say in the matter. Nobody yet seems to be my equal for sheer amount of latex and leather worn, for how little skin is on show. Maybe one in every three is dressed more kink then ball, and around half of those already present are either collared or holding the leash.
We're stood halfway along the rooms long axis, with a similar door- closed - opposite, which looks to lead outside. I remember from the website that the patio area, used for weddings and other more normal parties, is closed for this particular event. In the room itself- just as in the photos, black and red drapes fall from the ceiling, covering most of the walls and pooling on the floor -there's a distinct split between left side and right.
On the left is a seating area. Ten tables, all round and made of dark wood, all large, are arranged to allow plenty of space between them. The whole room is massive, with a high arched ceiling. Each table is surrounded by a half dozen, in some cases more, wooden chairs. Both tables and chairs wouldn't look out of place at a medieval reenactment. Three of the tables are occupied, but only one snares my interest.
Facinated, as I have been at everything occurring here so far, I watch as two twenty something men, dressed in jeans and untucked shirts, finish binding a lady, prehaps ten years older, to a chair. She's only wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. It's loosely closed, and belted. Loose enough to show off most of one large pale breast, plus a tuft of dark public hair, at odds with the long blonde hair atop her head. Which is curling, and looks damp. Did they kidnap her from her room?
Is that a thing here?
She's been well tied if I'm any judge. Some of the chairs are high backed, some have arms like a throne. Her chairs back is low, low enough that her arms have been easily hooked over it, bound together then rope fed down and under. Her legs are spread wide apart, tied to seperate sides of the chair, her feet suspended off the floor. No rope on her chest.
Not yet anyway. Nor is she gagged. Nor collared. The two men stand, and walk away. She, apparently happy with her predicament, blows their departing backs a kiss.
I'd wager she won't be keeping that bathrobe on for long, less time then that if someone manages to slap a gag on her pretty smiling face.
To the right, in place of tables, the space is filled by other bondage themed equipment.
There are X shaped standing crosses, plus wooden posts stood on wide bases. Plus, the sight of which making by body do a little shiver, there are metal cages.
No doubt all kinky people have kinky daydreams, stuff they imagine doing or being done to them. Experiences they want to try. Mine revolve- even now I'm dating Lili, who I know loves being bound as much as me -almost exclusively around my being the helpless one. My current favourite daydream is being locked inside a cage.
The circumstances differ, the cage- it's size and shape, it's location -differs. It isnt even Lili locking me away everytime. There's always that nameless faceless villain, plus in some cases Lili's in the cage with me. But, right now, being placed inside a cage is near the top of my 'new things I must try' list.
These cages, there are ten, differ in size. The smallest are basically built to dog size, but appear stronger, with thicker bars. Another type is stood a foot or two higher then most people. Prehaps you could reach up and touch the roof whilst inside? These cages are cylindrical, and appear wide enough for two people. Just. The largest cage, of which there's only one, resembles a jail cell. It has a single door, beside which a sign- which I can't read -has been bolted to the metal bars. Affixed to the sign are two buttons.
Inside this large cage are three ladies. Two of whom are dressed as quite slutty looking schoolgirls, complete with push up bra in your face cleavage and skirts short enough to get you locked up. Ha. The third, is naked. Unsurprisingly, she's gagged too, and has her wrists cuffed behind her.
Were it my choice I know exactly where I'd go. I think? Maybe? Fuck but there's so much fun a girl could have here. However at that point Clive sets off, forcing me to follow lest I be pulled off my feet.
Just to the left of the rooms centre, slightly towards the tables, is a long wooden bar, seated at one end of which, sipping from a water bottle, is a second black tee and jeans dressed tank. Beside the bar are the tubs I saw on the website, each one overflowing with bondage gear from gags to rope and various toys. We aren't heading to the tubs though.
We're heading towards the man who, prehaps sensing Clives approach, climbs off his bar stool having downed the last of his drink, then turns to face us as we come to a stop before him.
He's old. Early fifties, with cropped short grey hair and a beard not quite trimmed, but not quite messy either. A slight belly is pushing against his dark green untucked shirt, the undone top of which is leaking wiry grey chest hair, the rolled sleeves of which expose old faded tattoo's. Blue jeans lead down to black army boots.
He smiles. Nods. "Clive."
"Yuri."
"So." The older man, Yuri, looks me up and down. Sizing me up. He nods again. "I did not expect to see you here."
"You expected me to fail?"
"Maybe," giving me another look, definitely attempting, it feels, to read me between the lines, "maybe not." Yuri shakes his head. "You are here, so, it no longer matters."
Not having followed any of that, the conversation taking place within the conversation, I belatedly realise Yuri too has a leash in his large hand. Looking left, following it back to source, I discover a girl stood beside, but slightly behind and therefore in his shadow.
She's young, of an age with Clive and me. Quite short, and somewhere around a size sixteen, making her curvy with thick legs and upper arms. Straight black hair falls not quite to her shoulders, and black round framed glasses with thick lenses sit on her face. She's ballgagged, the black ball matching her lipstick and eyeliner. Whilst a tight black dress and lace up knee high boots keep up the goth theme. The dress is low cut, finishing above the knee, and beneath it she's obviously braless. Her chest, nice rounded D cups, have been tied into a chest harness that also pins her arms horizontally behind her.
I spot Clive flinch, momentarily, towards her, before he appears to remember himself. Staying put. The girl only has eyes for him, for Clive.
"So then." Yuri, a small, but I wouldn't say happy, smile playing across his face. "You are here to trade then. Yes?"
"Yes."
Wait.
What?
But by then it's over. Done. The two shake hands. They shake hands with the hands holding our leashes. Managing, somehow, to transfer, to swap, without either of us girls, us, owned things, at any point not being held by someone.
The girl all but runs at Clive, burying her head in his chest whilst he envelops her in a hug. All of this whilst I, with not yet the least though put into the how, or why, or what now, stand there, quite bemused, watching.
After a moment, sparing not even a glance for me, and only the barest nod of thanks or acknowledgement for Yuri, Clive leads his girl away.
Leaving me alone.
With. Yuri.
My new owner?
Um.
"Girl." Yuri's accent is thick Russian. I feel a gentle tug on my lead, getting my attention. "Come." Patting the empty stool beside him. "Sit with me girl."
"Good." Nodding as I sit myself down, facing him, waving down the bartender and pointing at his empty glass. Yuri doesn't offer me one, nor has he let go of my lead. "Well. Girl. You are girl because I do not know name. Yes?" I roll my eyes, which earns me a smile. Of course you don't know my name, I'm gagged. But I nod. "Good. Well. Girl. You are pretty girl for sure." Making a half reach towards my latex covered chest, my breath catching in anticipation of being unzipped. Fondled. But Yuri stays his hand, withdraws, grimaces. "Let me tell you story. Yes?"
"Ten years Yuri has come here. Ten." Holding up fingers. "Ah." Nodding thanks to the barman, slapping a note onto the counter top. "Is good." Saluting me with his vodka before swallowing half.
"So." Attention back to me. "Yuri likes to tie up girl. You," pointing, a small smile lighting up his old face, "pretty girl. You are looking very good in rope yes." Is that, flattery? I nod, Yuri's smile grows. "Good. Yes. You have chest like cannon on tank. But you are skinny like girl who eat only leaf. Meat is good. Yes. Do you eat meat, pretty girl?" I feel as though we're wandering off topic, whatever the topic actually was, but I nod all the same. Yes, the skinny girl with the tank chest likes burgers.
"Good. Maybe next time you not be wearing gag. Yuri will buy you burger. And vodka." Which sounds great. In fact I could use a burger now, and a drink. "Mmmffp ffpmhm."
"Ha." Shaking his head. "No girl. Story first, then I ungag you."
"Mmhmm?" Really? So, I'm not screwed? I haven't just been sold, or traded, to a stranger? Oh. I am, actually, stupidly, quite disappointed that Yuri doesn't plan on kidnapping or otherwise taking advantage of my helplessness.
"So, girl. Story. You sit. Listen." Yuri orders another drink, then begins to talk.
"Man should have respect for girl. Yes?"
"Mmfp." I nod, Yuri nods back. "Yes. Good. Tied girl is not thing, she is princess. Yuri knows this. Knows to say thank you." Looking away from me now, casting his gaze across the room. "Some. Some forget this. They do not respect tied girl. They see only mouth to suck cock. Chest for squeezing. Some do not see girl as girl." Turning back to regard me, Yuri nods. "Girl, even tied girl, is for love yes."
"So." A shrug. "Yuri will teach silly young boy." He tuts. "Will try anyway."
"Mmmfphh?"
"Yes." Nodding. "You are clever, skinny girl." Leaning forwards, Yuri taps my gag, smirks. "Well. Maybe not so clever."
"Mmmffp mmfhhf mmm."
"So much talking you need to do now?"
"Mmfm." I shake my head. Not really. I'm quite enjoying being sat here, wrapped in latex and helpless, listening to this old Russians meandering tale.
"Ffpmmfh mmmm."
"Yes yes. Rest is coming." Downing his glass. "So. Silly young boy with girl dressed in black. Black," tutting, shaking his head, "like funeral is coming."
"Fpmmf mmmfpm."
"You are dressing in black too?"
"Mmmf mhfm." I nod. When the mood takes me, I can do the goth thing.
"Boy is not kind to girl. Girl, she like boy anyway. Yuri sees this. Six times. Here." Tapping the bar. "Yuri sees silly boy. So. On seventh try, Yuri decides to take girl from boy. To teach lesson."
"Yuri," smiling, proud, "wins girl. Will take her home, show her better way. Show her silly boy is wrong." The smile vanishes, replaced by a sad frown. "But, girl does not want to learn Yuri's lessons. Girl just wants boy. Girl wants to be mouth for cock and chest for squeezing."
"Mmfm?"
"You wonder, skinny girl, what part of story is for you to be fitting in. Yes?"
"Mffmhm." I nod. Yuri grins.
"Boy is silly. But. Clever too." A laugh as Yuri prods my gag. "Boy more clever then skinny gagged girl."
"Ffmm ffhmmfm."
"Yes." A pause, waiting for yet another vodka to be placed before him. I, idly, wonder why Yuri doesn't just ask for the whole bottle. "Yuri tells boy, when he takes funeral girl, that boy must do a challenge to win her back. Boy must find girl willing to be sacrifice. Boy must come to Yuri with sacrifice, then boy can have his girl back."
Which makes no sense. How would finding some sacrificial lamb make Clive a better man?
"Is not meant to make boy better," Yuri comments, having somehow reached into my thoughts, "challenge only to give Yuri time to show funeral girl her error. Time to make her see boy is not good for her."
"But. Girl wants boy. And boy wants girl." Spreading his arms wide. "What can I do when people do not see truth."
"Mmfppf hhfmff."
"Yes." Nodding. "When boy comes. Today. I can see you are not willing sacrifice."
"Mmfhm?" He can? "So." Continuing. "I take you, and let girl go back to boy." A wave of his hand, dismissive. "Let them be silly together skinny girl. Yes?"
"Mmfm." Yes. Fuck it why not. I nod, Yuri smiles, stretches. "Now. Girl. Yuri must catch plane. Now you have choice to make."
"Yuri will free you. No more gag. No more collar. But if do this skinny girl must go eat burger. Yes?"
"Mmfph hhhfpm." I shrug. Maybe. Yuri shakes his head, but smiles. "Or. Girl can stay tied. I think." In a remarkable display of speed Yuri pulls on my leash, wrapping it about his hand, yanking me off my stool and reeling me in. In moments, too quick to follow, I'm suddenly standing right in front of him, my body between his spread legs, my breasts squashing against his chest. "I think." My head is down level with his, my ear next to his mouth. I can hear his gravelly whisper perfectly clearly. "That skinny girl likes to be tied. I think she wants to be left with gag and ropes." I can feel Yuri's hard on pushing against my latex clad inner leg, up high next to my pussy, which is beginning to pulse in want and need.
My breath has caught in my throat, Yuri's own breath is hot in my ear. "Well." I can hear his own arousal, his own enjoyment at having me helpless and so close. "Skinny girl. Do I free you, or leave you here in ropes?"
The ballroom.
We enter through oak double doors, wedged open. But first Clive has to give his name, show some kind of printed paper, to a jeans and black tee wearing man sat relaxing in a comfortable looking dark red leather armchair beside one of the doors. Beside this man, tall with a rugby players build, like a walking tank, is a small table, upon which a bottle of water and two way radio holds down a stack of papers. Like the one Clive's handing over.
I'm not asked for my name, the fact of which, that I'm basically an accessory. A thing. Gives me a definite tingle of pleasure.
Identity proven, we're waved through. Into quite possibly the kinkiest room anyone ever tried to imagine.
A half dozen paces in, Clive pauses. Eyes scanning left and right as though seeking out someone. I take the offered chance to glance around myself.
There are roughly two dozen people already in attendance. Added to which will be an untold amount still getting ready, or wandering the hotel corridors. Or even, like the lady in the lift, already locked away someplace, either voluntarily or because, if they happen to be gagged, they've had no say in the matter. Nobody yet seems to be my equal for sheer amount of latex and leather worn, for how little skin is on show. Maybe one in every three is dressed more kink then ball, and around half of those already present are either collared or holding the leash.
We're stood halfway along the rooms long axis, with a similar door- closed - opposite, which looks to lead outside. I remember from the website that the patio area, used for weddings and other more normal parties, is closed for this particular event. In the room itself- just as in the photos, black and red drapes fall from the ceiling, covering most of the walls and pooling on the floor -there's a distinct split between left side and right.
On the left is a seating area. Ten tables, all round and made of dark wood, all large, are arranged to allow plenty of space between them. The whole room is massive, with a high arched ceiling. Each table is surrounded by a half dozen, in some cases more, wooden chairs. Both tables and chairs wouldn't look out of place at a medieval reenactment. Three of the tables are occupied, but only one snares my interest.
Facinated, as I have been at everything occurring here so far, I watch as two twenty something men, dressed in jeans and untucked shirts, finish binding a lady, prehaps ten years older, to a chair. She's only wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. It's loosely closed, and belted. Loose enough to show off most of one large pale breast, plus a tuft of dark public hair, at odds with the long blonde hair atop her head. Which is curling, and looks damp. Did they kidnap her from her room?
Is that a thing here?
She's been well tied if I'm any judge. Some of the chairs are high backed, some have arms like a throne. Her chairs back is low, low enough that her arms have been easily hooked over it, bound together then rope fed down and under. Her legs are spread wide apart, tied to seperate sides of the chair, her feet suspended off the floor. No rope on her chest.
Not yet anyway. Nor is she gagged. Nor collared. The two men stand, and walk away. She, apparently happy with her predicament, blows their departing backs a kiss.
I'd wager she won't be keeping that bathrobe on for long, less time then that if someone manages to slap a gag on her pretty smiling face.
To the right, in place of tables, the space is filled by other bondage themed equipment.
There are X shaped standing crosses, plus wooden posts stood on wide bases. Plus, the sight of which making by body do a little shiver, there are metal cages.
No doubt all kinky people have kinky daydreams, stuff they imagine doing or being done to them. Experiences they want to try. Mine revolve- even now I'm dating Lili, who I know loves being bound as much as me -almost exclusively around my being the helpless one. My current favourite daydream is being locked inside a cage.
The circumstances differ, the cage- it's size and shape, it's location -differs. It isnt even Lili locking me away everytime. There's always that nameless faceless villain, plus in some cases Lili's in the cage with me. But, right now, being placed inside a cage is near the top of my 'new things I must try' list.
These cages, there are ten, differ in size. The smallest are basically built to dog size, but appear stronger, with thicker bars. Another type is stood a foot or two higher then most people. Prehaps you could reach up and touch the roof whilst inside? These cages are cylindrical, and appear wide enough for two people. Just. The largest cage, of which there's only one, resembles a jail cell. It has a single door, beside which a sign- which I can't read -has been bolted to the metal bars. Affixed to the sign are two buttons.
Inside this large cage are three ladies. Two of whom are dressed as quite slutty looking schoolgirls, complete with push up bra in your face cleavage and skirts short enough to get you locked up. Ha. The third, is naked. Unsurprisingly, she's gagged too, and has her wrists cuffed behind her.
Were it my choice I know exactly where I'd go. I think? Maybe? Fuck but there's so much fun a girl could have here. However at that point Clive sets off, forcing me to follow lest I be pulled off my feet.
Just to the left of the rooms centre, slightly towards the tables, is a long wooden bar, seated at one end of which, sipping from a water bottle, is a second black tee and jeans dressed tank. Beside the bar are the tubs I saw on the website, each one overflowing with bondage gear from gags to rope and various toys. We aren't heading to the tubs though.
We're heading towards the man who, prehaps sensing Clives approach, climbs off his bar stool having downed the last of his drink, then turns to face us as we come to a stop before him.
He's old. Early fifties, with cropped short grey hair and a beard not quite trimmed, but not quite messy either. A slight belly is pushing against his dark green untucked shirt, the undone top of which is leaking wiry grey chest hair, the rolled sleeves of which expose old faded tattoo's. Blue jeans lead down to black army boots.
He smiles. Nods. "Clive."
"Yuri."
"So." The older man, Yuri, looks me up and down. Sizing me up. He nods again. "I did not expect to see you here."
"You expected me to fail?"
"Maybe," giving me another look, definitely attempting, it feels, to read me between the lines, "maybe not." Yuri shakes his head. "You are here, so, it no longer matters."
Not having followed any of that, the conversation taking place within the conversation, I belatedly realise Yuri too has a leash in his large hand. Looking left, following it back to source, I discover a girl stood beside, but slightly behind and therefore in his shadow.
She's young, of an age with Clive and me. Quite short, and somewhere around a size sixteen, making her curvy with thick legs and upper arms. Straight black hair falls not quite to her shoulders, and black round framed glasses with thick lenses sit on her face. She's ballgagged, the black ball matching her lipstick and eyeliner. Whilst a tight black dress and lace up knee high boots keep up the goth theme. The dress is low cut, finishing above the knee, and beneath it she's obviously braless. Her chest, nice rounded D cups, have been tied into a chest harness that also pins her arms horizontally behind her.
I spot Clive flinch, momentarily, towards her, before he appears to remember himself. Staying put. The girl only has eyes for him, for Clive.
"So then." Yuri, a small, but I wouldn't say happy, smile playing across his face. "You are here to trade then. Yes?"
"Yes."
Wait.
What?
But by then it's over. Done. The two shake hands. They shake hands with the hands holding our leashes. Managing, somehow, to transfer, to swap, without either of us girls, us, owned things, at any point not being held by someone.
The girl all but runs at Clive, burying her head in his chest whilst he envelops her in a hug. All of this whilst I, with not yet the least though put into the how, or why, or what now, stand there, quite bemused, watching.
After a moment, sparing not even a glance for me, and only the barest nod of thanks or acknowledgement for Yuri, Clive leads his girl away.
Leaving me alone.
With. Yuri.
My new owner?
Um.
"Girl." Yuri's accent is thick Russian. I feel a gentle tug on my lead, getting my attention. "Come." Patting the empty stool beside him. "Sit with me girl."
"Good." Nodding as I sit myself down, facing him, waving down the bartender and pointing at his empty glass. Yuri doesn't offer me one, nor has he let go of my lead. "Well. Girl. You are girl because I do not know name. Yes?" I roll my eyes, which earns me a smile. Of course you don't know my name, I'm gagged. But I nod. "Good. Well. Girl. You are pretty girl for sure." Making a half reach towards my latex covered chest, my breath catching in anticipation of being unzipped. Fondled. But Yuri stays his hand, withdraws, grimaces. "Let me tell you story. Yes?"
"Ten years Yuri has come here. Ten." Holding up fingers. "Ah." Nodding thanks to the barman, slapping a note onto the counter top. "Is good." Saluting me with his vodka before swallowing half.
"So." Attention back to me. "Yuri likes to tie up girl. You," pointing, a small smile lighting up his old face, "pretty girl. You are looking very good in rope yes." Is that, flattery? I nod, Yuri's smile grows. "Good. Yes. You have chest like cannon on tank. But you are skinny like girl who eat only leaf. Meat is good. Yes. Do you eat meat, pretty girl?" I feel as though we're wandering off topic, whatever the topic actually was, but I nod all the same. Yes, the skinny girl with the tank chest likes burgers.
"Good. Maybe next time you not be wearing gag. Yuri will buy you burger. And vodka." Which sounds great. In fact I could use a burger now, and a drink. "Mmmffp ffpmhm."
"Ha." Shaking his head. "No girl. Story first, then I ungag you."
"Mmhmm?" Really? So, I'm not screwed? I haven't just been sold, or traded, to a stranger? Oh. I am, actually, stupidly, quite disappointed that Yuri doesn't plan on kidnapping or otherwise taking advantage of my helplessness.
"So, girl. Story. You sit. Listen." Yuri orders another drink, then begins to talk.
"Man should have respect for girl. Yes?"
"Mmfp." I nod, Yuri nods back. "Yes. Good. Tied girl is not thing, she is princess. Yuri knows this. Knows to say thank you." Looking away from me now, casting his gaze across the room. "Some. Some forget this. They do not respect tied girl. They see only mouth to suck cock. Chest for squeezing. Some do not see girl as girl." Turning back to regard me, Yuri nods. "Girl, even tied girl, is for love yes."
"So." A shrug. "Yuri will teach silly young boy." He tuts. "Will try anyway."
"Mmmfphh?"
"Yes." Nodding. "You are clever, skinny girl." Leaning forwards, Yuri taps my gag, smirks. "Well. Maybe not so clever."
"Mmmffp mmfhhf mmm."
"So much talking you need to do now?"
"Mmfm." I shake my head. Not really. I'm quite enjoying being sat here, wrapped in latex and helpless, listening to this old Russians meandering tale.
"Ffpmmfh mmmm."
"Yes yes. Rest is coming." Downing his glass. "So. Silly young boy with girl dressed in black. Black," tutting, shaking his head, "like funeral is coming."
"Fpmmf mmmfpm."
"You are dressing in black too?"
"Mmmf mhfm." I nod. When the mood takes me, I can do the goth thing.
"Boy is not kind to girl. Girl, she like boy anyway. Yuri sees this. Six times. Here." Tapping the bar. "Yuri sees silly boy. So. On seventh try, Yuri decides to take girl from boy. To teach lesson."
"Yuri," smiling, proud, "wins girl. Will take her home, show her better way. Show her silly boy is wrong." The smile vanishes, replaced by a sad frown. "But, girl does not want to learn Yuri's lessons. Girl just wants boy. Girl wants to be mouth for cock and chest for squeezing."
"Mmfm?"
"You wonder, skinny girl, what part of story is for you to be fitting in. Yes?"
"Mffmhm." I nod. Yuri grins.
"Boy is silly. But. Clever too." A laugh as Yuri prods my gag. "Boy more clever then skinny gagged girl."
"Ffmm ffhmmfm."
"Yes." A pause, waiting for yet another vodka to be placed before him. I, idly, wonder why Yuri doesn't just ask for the whole bottle. "Yuri tells boy, when he takes funeral girl, that boy must do a challenge to win her back. Boy must find girl willing to be sacrifice. Boy must come to Yuri with sacrifice, then boy can have his girl back."
Which makes no sense. How would finding some sacrificial lamb make Clive a better man?
"Is not meant to make boy better," Yuri comments, having somehow reached into my thoughts, "challenge only to give Yuri time to show funeral girl her error. Time to make her see boy is not good for her."
"But. Girl wants boy. And boy wants girl." Spreading his arms wide. "What can I do when people do not see truth."
"Mmfppf hhfmff."
"Yes." Nodding. "When boy comes. Today. I can see you are not willing sacrifice."
"Mmfhm?" He can? "So." Continuing. "I take you, and let girl go back to boy." A wave of his hand, dismissive. "Let them be silly together skinny girl. Yes?"
"Mmfm." Yes. Fuck it why not. I nod, Yuri smiles, stretches. "Now. Girl. Yuri must catch plane. Now you have choice to make."
"Yuri will free you. No more gag. No more collar. But if do this skinny girl must go eat burger. Yes?"
"Mmfph hhhfpm." I shrug. Maybe. Yuri shakes his head, but smiles. "Or. Girl can stay tied. I think." In a remarkable display of speed Yuri pulls on my leash, wrapping it about his hand, yanking me off my stool and reeling me in. In moments, too quick to follow, I'm suddenly standing right in front of him, my body between his spread legs, my breasts squashing against his chest. "I think." My head is down level with his, my ear next to his mouth. I can hear his gravelly whisper perfectly clearly. "That skinny girl likes to be tied. I think she wants to be left with gag and ropes." I can feel Yuri's hard on pushing against my latex clad inner leg, up high next to my pussy, which is beginning to pulse in want and need.
My breath has caught in my throat, Yuri's own breath is hot in my ear. "Well." I can hear his own arousal, his own enjoyment at having me helpless and so close. "Skinny girl. Do I free you, or leave you here in ropes?"
Oh my! talk about a predicament. What will Plymouth do? Yuri seems nice, so far. Will he stay nice? Or will he just disappear? And Clive, he is perfidious. This is a very juicy chapter. Very well done!
BTW,
BTW,
As Yuri might say, "Not old. Prime of life."RopeBunny wrote:He's old. Early fifties
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
-
slackywacky
- Millennial Club
- Posts: 2616
- Joined: 5 years ago
- Location: Canada
There was another story on the board where somebody wrote that 25 was middle-aged. That made me chuckle.RopeBunny wrote:He's old. Early fifties
I agree [mention]GreyLord[/mention], not old, just more experienced.
Love the predicament Plymouth is in. I think I know what she wants, but I leave it up to you [mention]RopeBunny[/mention] to tell me
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
Slackywacky, also @DeviantArt
My active stories:
- All in the family - Updated 21/03
- Bondage model by choice - Updated 10/04
- Hitchhiker - Updated 29/03
Of course, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. Your are accurate in your portrayal. That is the way of most young folk.
A List of my stories:An Unlikely Savior Completed
Spy Task Force Completed
Tale of an Archer Completed
The Bandit Scout on Newhome updated 05/30/23
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tickletied84
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 490
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: Scotland
Oh dear, will Brooke/Plymouth accept? Or like most young people, will she choose pleasure and danger, over safety?
I just binged this story yesterday, and I was hooked. Excellently written as everything you do.
Brooke is quite the main character. She seems to live in a magic fantasy world of bondage where everything she does is perfect, and is naively doing everything asked of her unaware of the consequences. Such a lifestyle would not last long, and I hope Syn is able to talk some wisdom into her.
My only question is, maybe it was already answered, why is Brooke so attracted to bondage and wanting this career. Would Jessica or any other friend not been able to tie Brooke up before she would decide to do a porn?
Thanks for writing this, and I will surely follow this story.
Brooke is quite the main character. She seems to live in a magic fantasy world of bondage where everything she does is perfect, and is naively doing everything asked of her unaware of the consequences. Such a lifestyle would not last long, and I hope Syn is able to talk some wisdom into her.
My only question is, maybe it was already answered, why is Brooke so attracted to bondage and wanting this career. Would Jessica or any other friend not been able to tie Brooke up before she would decide to do a porn?
Thanks for writing this, and I will surely follow this story.
The Tangled Maiden completed
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site
Bound to be Dared April 8
Spy Camp March 19
All My Stories On This Site