Memoirs of Peter S aged 14 and 3/4 m/f+ (Part 7 added)
Posted: Tue Apr 23, 2019 6:09 am
Hello everyone this is an idea that’s kind of bounced around in my head for a while but only came to the front following a few messages share between myself and another site member. It is of course a work of fiction, however the main female characters are based on more mature real life bondage models Sandra Silvers, Jackie Christianson, Chrissy Marie and JJ Plush. There will of course be no sexual content due to the age of the main male character who’s point of view will be used to tell the tale. A tale that’s designed to study the possible thoughts and actions of a young man that discovers his mother and several of her friends make extra money by both starting in and or running bondage related websites. Naturally, as always I hope you will enjoy my work and that I can do my original idea justice. Just like I hope you’ll leave your comments and thoughts as I go along.........
Bandit666
Part one
I guess you could say my journey into a world I had once known nothing about, that I never knew existed, all began just after I turned 14, just after I’d celebrated becoming a year older, if not a year wiser. I guess you could say my journey began on a chilly afternoon in October, began on a chilly Wednesday afternoon in October. School had, for once finished early, had finished early thanks, to one of the more troublesome boys, had finished earlier thanks to his need to course trouble, had finished earlier thanks to him triggering the fire alarm. Like all the others, like all my friends I hadn’t complained, like all the others, like all my friends I’d taken full advantage, had rushed home, rushed home intent of catching up with the previous nights episode of Game of Thrones, intent on taking advantage of being home alone. Yet that wasn’t to be, that wasn’t to happen, for as I turned onto our drive, as I looked up, as I looked ahead of me, I noticed my moms car, noticed parked along side my dads car. At first I was naturally disappointed, was saddened to think my plans would be dragged down, would be put on hold. But not because my parents were home, well not exactly because my parents were at home, rather because of what I found as I stepped inside, as I dumped my school bag, as I looked into the living room. For that was where my world would change, where it would take an unexpected twist, where I’d make a discovery I never expected.
It was a discovery that struck me the second I turned the corner, the second I entered the living room, for there before me sat my mom, sat the woman I'd soon discover many people knew as Sandra, for there for before me she sat tightly bound and gagged, my mom was trussed up like some kind of damsel in the movies, only tighter, only this was for real. Her ankles and calves were bound to the chairs hard wooden legs by brilliant white ropes, white ropes that contrasted perfectly with the black shear pantyhose she wore. Her tight black skirt, a skirt I’d seen her wear so often before, was hitched up, hitched up high enough to flash the red panties she wore under her pantyhose. Her waist was being squeezed, squeezed tightly by yet another white rope, a white rope that once more contrasted with the material beneath, contrasted with the bright red satin blouse I’d never seen before. Another white rope ran just below my moms very ample breasts, again contrasting with the bright red blouse. The top three buttons had been left undone had been left in such a way as it ensure her cleavage was clearly seen, the top of her red bra too. Her wrists were very clearly behind her back, were very clearly bound tightly together by even more white rope, the blouse only just offering a little protection. Her mouth was packed, packed by a strange looking red ball, her lips, coated with bright red lipstick, were wrapped around it best they could, thin black straps ran off behind her head, disappeared under her hair. My mom was truly helpless, my mom could clearly see the confusion and fear in my eyes, my mom could only make gargled mmmppphhhs as she tried to get my dads attention, as she tried to tell him I was here.
At first my dad appeared to be oblivious to my presence, appeared to be oblivious to what my mom was trying to say, what she was trying to indicate. His focus seemed to be on the photographs he was taking, his focus seemed to be on his movements, his focus seemed to be on avoiding the video cameras perched on their tripods. He was moving from side to side, was standing and kneeling, was catching my moms helplessness from every angle imaginable, and I few I would never have thought of. He seemed to zooming into her face, seemed to be taking shots as a little drool slipped past that strange ball in my moms mouth, he seemed to be zooming out to get shots of her gagged mouth and ample cleavage. He seemed to be ensuring her got shots that allowed a glimpse up her skirt, he seemed to be ensuring he captured her helplessness and embarrassment over and over again. At first he seemed to think my mom was acting up for the video cameras, was playing the role of helpless damsel to the hilt, at first he seemed to think everything was normal, that they were alone to do as they wished, and then suddenly that changed. Suddenly he realised what my mom was trying to say, suddenly it dawned on him, they weren’t alone, that I was standing in the doorway. Suddenly he spun around and faced me, spun around and looked me squarely in the eyes, spun around with shock written all over his face. He didn’t seeem to be mad at me, didn’t seem to be upset with me, instead he seemed to be dumbfounded, seemed to be unable to find the words to utter, to explain what was going on.
Well I’m sure I stuttered out my apologies, I’m sure I looked at the floor in embarrassment, I’m sure I blurted out how I’d be in my bedroom, blurted it out as I made a dash for the stairs. Stairs I took two at a time, stairs I’d never ran up so fast in my life, stairs that seemed longer and steeper than ever before. Even as I ran to my room, as I closed the door behind me, as I jumped on my bed, my mind was racing, was full of questions, was full of uncertainty, was full of confusion. Had I really just seen my mom tied up and gagged, had I really just seen my dad taking pictures of her, was it all real or just imagined, I didn’t have an answer. Just like I didn’t have an answer as to why, if it was real, were my parents doing such things, why would my mom let it happen to her? Was my dad mad at her, had she done something wrong, something terrible? Were they planning on getting divorced, was my dad planning on hurting my mom? What should I do, should I run back downstairs? Should I leap to my moms defence? Why did she seem to be having fun, why did she seem to be happy and enjoying it? God I was so confused, so shocked.
For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence, in uncertainty, in fear, not fear of being shouted at by my mom and dad, though that might have been more reassuring if I’m honest, not fear of being punished, though even that might have been more reassuring. No it was the fear of not knowing, it was the fear of not understanding, it was the fear of simply not knowing. For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence as I heard the movement downstairs, as I heard the faint muttering between my mom and dad, as I heard what I guessed, to be them packing up the cameras, packing up the tripods, as I heard what I guessed was my dad releasing my mom. Every minute seemed like an hour, every minute seemed to drag past, every minute left me on edge. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching, heard them coming up the stairs, there was only one set, there was only my moms, I’d learnt to tell the difference, learnt to know who was moving around. My mom always walked softly, always made such little sound, my dad always seemed to make more noise, always seemed to walk with a purpose, always seemed to walk quicker. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching my bedroom door, heard them faintly approach down the hallway, finally I heard the long awaited knock on my bedroom door. Finally I heard my moms gentle knock on the door, finally I heard her quietly ask if she could come in, if she could explain what I’d just seen, what had just happened, what happened between her and my dad.
No doubt there was a noticeable trembling to my voice, no doubt my mom could detect my concern, my worries, no doubt she probably felt the same. No doubt she wondered what the next few minutes, the next hour or so would bring. No doubt she wondered what emotions would come about, no doubt she wondered if I’d understand what she was about to tell me, was about to explain to me, and yet still she slowly opened the door, still she slowly stepped inside, closing it behind her. She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t altered her appearance, well save for the ropes and ball that gagged her. She’d remained in her red satin blouse, had left the top three buttons undone, she’d remained in her tight black skirt, she had pulled it down to a more respectful mid thigh length, she had remained in her shear pantyhose.
Carefully mom sat on the end of my bed, quietly she spoke, reassuringly she told me I wasn’t in any trouble, reassuringly she told me how sorry they both were that I’d seen her like that, reassuringly she told me there was nothing wrong, that she was still very much in love with my dad, that I should get any thoughts otherwise out of my head. She told me they’d known one day I’d find out, find out what they did when I was at school, find out what they did at least a couple of days a week. She told me how they’d always known that the time would come when I needed an explanation, when I’d need to understand where the money came from for our holidays, came from towards my college fund, where the money came from for the finer things in life. She told me it wasn’t meant to be like this, told me I was never meant to return to see such things, to see her all trussed up like that. Again she told me how sorry they both were for I saw, again she told me she’d explain everything. It was clear to see that mom struggled to get to the point, to get it out there in the open, it was clear even to a 14 year old me, that I would have to be patient and till she was ready. But eventually she opened up, eventually she got to the point, eventually she admitted that she loved bondage, that she loved being bound and gagged by my dad, eventually she admitted that they made money by selling the photographs and videos I’d seen been taken. Eventually she admitted that, along with my dad, they ran a bondage website, ran a website that specialised in showing scenes of her trussed up and gagged, specialised in showing videos of her struggling and wriggling.
Slowly, after a brief pause, a pause designed to give me a chance to absorb what she’d just said, mom continued, continued by explaining how it was all above board and nothing illegal took place. Slowly she explained how nothing sexual was ever seen, unless by request, unless it was deemed acceptable by both herself and my dad. Slowly she explained how such scenes were handled with great care, slowly she explained how such scenes were kept locked, accessible by only those with permission, slowly she explained how the site catered for over 18’s only. Slowly she went on about how well it paid,slowly she went on about her feelings, her feelings when trussed up, her feelings for my dad, her feelings about how I’d found out about it all. After a while she stopped, after a while she stopped and looked at me with both love and concern in her eyes, after a while she stood and told me she’d said enough for now. After a while she stood and explained how she needed to shower and change, explained how she had to give me time to think, to decide what I thought, what I wanted to happen now, explained that we’d have a pizza night, explained how she’d be waiting with my dad downstairs when I was ready.
Warmly my mom smiled as she turned and left my bedroom, quietly she closed the door behind her, quietly I heard her walk towards their bedroom, quietly I heard her close the door behind her. It was, still such a shock, it was, still such a huge thing to absorb, it was, still confusing. But not as much as it had been an hour or so earlier, not as much as it had been when I turned the corner that first time, not as much as it had been when I first saw my mom tied to that chair, not as much as it had been when seeing my dad shooting the photographs. With a deep breath, with a deep sigh I slipped of my bed, with a deep sigh I headed downstairs, with a deep sigh I headed off to find my dad, headed off to speak to him about what I’d seen, what my mom had said, what he thought should happen now, should happen in the future............
So there you go, I hope you like the first part of my little tale, I hope you’ll let me know your thoughts, I hope you’ll let me know your comments
Bandit666
Bandit666
Part one
I guess you could say my journey into a world I had once known nothing about, that I never knew existed, all began just after I turned 14, just after I’d celebrated becoming a year older, if not a year wiser. I guess you could say my journey began on a chilly afternoon in October, began on a chilly Wednesday afternoon in October. School had, for once finished early, had finished early thanks, to one of the more troublesome boys, had finished earlier thanks to his need to course trouble, had finished earlier thanks to him triggering the fire alarm. Like all the others, like all my friends I hadn’t complained, like all the others, like all my friends I’d taken full advantage, had rushed home, rushed home intent of catching up with the previous nights episode of Game of Thrones, intent on taking advantage of being home alone. Yet that wasn’t to be, that wasn’t to happen, for as I turned onto our drive, as I looked up, as I looked ahead of me, I noticed my moms car, noticed parked along side my dads car. At first I was naturally disappointed, was saddened to think my plans would be dragged down, would be put on hold. But not because my parents were home, well not exactly because my parents were at home, rather because of what I found as I stepped inside, as I dumped my school bag, as I looked into the living room. For that was where my world would change, where it would take an unexpected twist, where I’d make a discovery I never expected.
It was a discovery that struck me the second I turned the corner, the second I entered the living room, for there before me sat my mom, sat the woman I'd soon discover many people knew as Sandra, for there for before me she sat tightly bound and gagged, my mom was trussed up like some kind of damsel in the movies, only tighter, only this was for real. Her ankles and calves were bound to the chairs hard wooden legs by brilliant white ropes, white ropes that contrasted perfectly with the black shear pantyhose she wore. Her tight black skirt, a skirt I’d seen her wear so often before, was hitched up, hitched up high enough to flash the red panties she wore under her pantyhose. Her waist was being squeezed, squeezed tightly by yet another white rope, a white rope that once more contrasted with the material beneath, contrasted with the bright red satin blouse I’d never seen before. Another white rope ran just below my moms very ample breasts, again contrasting with the bright red blouse. The top three buttons had been left undone had been left in such a way as it ensure her cleavage was clearly seen, the top of her red bra too. Her wrists were very clearly behind her back, were very clearly bound tightly together by even more white rope, the blouse only just offering a little protection. Her mouth was packed, packed by a strange looking red ball, her lips, coated with bright red lipstick, were wrapped around it best they could, thin black straps ran off behind her head, disappeared under her hair. My mom was truly helpless, my mom could clearly see the confusion and fear in my eyes, my mom could only make gargled mmmppphhhs as she tried to get my dads attention, as she tried to tell him I was here.
At first my dad appeared to be oblivious to my presence, appeared to be oblivious to what my mom was trying to say, what she was trying to indicate. His focus seemed to be on the photographs he was taking, his focus seemed to be on his movements, his focus seemed to be on avoiding the video cameras perched on their tripods. He was moving from side to side, was standing and kneeling, was catching my moms helplessness from every angle imaginable, and I few I would never have thought of. He seemed to zooming into her face, seemed to be taking shots as a little drool slipped past that strange ball in my moms mouth, he seemed to be zooming out to get shots of her gagged mouth and ample cleavage. He seemed to be ensuring her got shots that allowed a glimpse up her skirt, he seemed to be ensuring he captured her helplessness and embarrassment over and over again. At first he seemed to think my mom was acting up for the video cameras, was playing the role of helpless damsel to the hilt, at first he seemed to think everything was normal, that they were alone to do as they wished, and then suddenly that changed. Suddenly he realised what my mom was trying to say, suddenly it dawned on him, they weren’t alone, that I was standing in the doorway. Suddenly he spun around and faced me, spun around and looked me squarely in the eyes, spun around with shock written all over his face. He didn’t seeem to be mad at me, didn’t seem to be upset with me, instead he seemed to be dumbfounded, seemed to be unable to find the words to utter, to explain what was going on.
Well I’m sure I stuttered out my apologies, I’m sure I looked at the floor in embarrassment, I’m sure I blurted out how I’d be in my bedroom, blurted it out as I made a dash for the stairs. Stairs I took two at a time, stairs I’d never ran up so fast in my life, stairs that seemed longer and steeper than ever before. Even as I ran to my room, as I closed the door behind me, as I jumped on my bed, my mind was racing, was full of questions, was full of uncertainty, was full of confusion. Had I really just seen my mom tied up and gagged, had I really just seen my dad taking pictures of her, was it all real or just imagined, I didn’t have an answer. Just like I didn’t have an answer as to why, if it was real, were my parents doing such things, why would my mom let it happen to her? Was my dad mad at her, had she done something wrong, something terrible? Were they planning on getting divorced, was my dad planning on hurting my mom? What should I do, should I run back downstairs? Should I leap to my moms defence? Why did she seem to be having fun, why did she seem to be happy and enjoying it? God I was so confused, so shocked.
For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence, in uncertainty, in fear, not fear of being shouted at by my mom and dad, though that might have been more reassuring if I’m honest, not fear of being punished, though even that might have been more reassuring. No it was the fear of not knowing, it was the fear of not understanding, it was the fear of simply not knowing. For the next 15 - 20 minutes I sat there, there on my bed, in silence as I heard the movement downstairs, as I heard the faint muttering between my mom and dad, as I heard what I guessed, to be them packing up the cameras, packing up the tripods, as I heard what I guessed was my dad releasing my mom. Every minute seemed like an hour, every minute seemed to drag past, every minute left me on edge. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching, heard them coming up the stairs, there was only one set, there was only my moms, I’d learnt to tell the difference, learnt to know who was moving around. My mom always walked softly, always made such little sound, my dad always seemed to make more noise, always seemed to walk with a purpose, always seemed to walk quicker. Finally I heard the footsteps approaching my bedroom door, heard them faintly approach down the hallway, finally I heard the long awaited knock on my bedroom door. Finally I heard my moms gentle knock on the door, finally I heard her quietly ask if she could come in, if she could explain what I’d just seen, what had just happened, what happened between her and my dad.
No doubt there was a noticeable trembling to my voice, no doubt my mom could detect my concern, my worries, no doubt she probably felt the same. No doubt she wondered what the next few minutes, the next hour or so would bring. No doubt she wondered what emotions would come about, no doubt she wondered if I’d understand what she was about to tell me, was about to explain to me, and yet still she slowly opened the door, still she slowly stepped inside, closing it behind her. She hadn’t changed her clothes, hadn’t altered her appearance, well save for the ropes and ball that gagged her. She’d remained in her red satin blouse, had left the top three buttons undone, she’d remained in her tight black skirt, she had pulled it down to a more respectful mid thigh length, she had remained in her shear pantyhose.
Carefully mom sat on the end of my bed, quietly she spoke, reassuringly she told me I wasn’t in any trouble, reassuringly she told me how sorry they both were that I’d seen her like that, reassuringly she told me there was nothing wrong, that she was still very much in love with my dad, that I should get any thoughts otherwise out of my head. She told me they’d known one day I’d find out, find out what they did when I was at school, find out what they did at least a couple of days a week. She told me how they’d always known that the time would come when I needed an explanation, when I’d need to understand where the money came from for our holidays, came from towards my college fund, where the money came from for the finer things in life. She told me it wasn’t meant to be like this, told me I was never meant to return to see such things, to see her all trussed up like that. Again she told me how sorry they both were for I saw, again she told me she’d explain everything. It was clear to see that mom struggled to get to the point, to get it out there in the open, it was clear even to a 14 year old me, that I would have to be patient and till she was ready. But eventually she opened up, eventually she got to the point, eventually she admitted that she loved bondage, that she loved being bound and gagged by my dad, eventually she admitted that they made money by selling the photographs and videos I’d seen been taken. Eventually she admitted that, along with my dad, they ran a bondage website, ran a website that specialised in showing scenes of her trussed up and gagged, specialised in showing videos of her struggling and wriggling.
Slowly, after a brief pause, a pause designed to give me a chance to absorb what she’d just said, mom continued, continued by explaining how it was all above board and nothing illegal took place. Slowly she explained how nothing sexual was ever seen, unless by request, unless it was deemed acceptable by both herself and my dad. Slowly she explained how such scenes were handled with great care, slowly she explained how such scenes were kept locked, accessible by only those with permission, slowly she explained how the site catered for over 18’s only. Slowly she went on about how well it paid,slowly she went on about her feelings, her feelings when trussed up, her feelings for my dad, her feelings about how I’d found out about it all. After a while she stopped, after a while she stopped and looked at me with both love and concern in her eyes, after a while she stood and told me she’d said enough for now. After a while she stood and explained how she needed to shower and change, explained how she had to give me time to think, to decide what I thought, what I wanted to happen now, explained that we’d have a pizza night, explained how she’d be waiting with my dad downstairs when I was ready.
Warmly my mom smiled as she turned and left my bedroom, quietly she closed the door behind her, quietly I heard her walk towards their bedroom, quietly I heard her close the door behind her. It was, still such a shock, it was, still such a huge thing to absorb, it was, still confusing. But not as much as it had been an hour or so earlier, not as much as it had been when I turned the corner that first time, not as much as it had been when I first saw my mom tied to that chair, not as much as it had been when seeing my dad shooting the photographs. With a deep breath, with a deep sigh I slipped of my bed, with a deep sigh I headed downstairs, with a deep sigh I headed off to find my dad, headed off to speak to him about what I’d seen, what my mom had said, what he thought should happen now, should happen in the future............
So there you go, I hope you like the first part of my little tale, I hope you’ll let me know your thoughts, I hope you’ll let me know your comments
Bandit666