02 - Step mom
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By Fantasmia
by Fantasmia » Wed Jan 02, 2013 1:20 am
STEPMOTHER
I was lying on my bed in just a pair of jeans, or rather the jeans were the only clothes I was wearing as intended. I leather belt was wrapped around my chest and elbows pinning my arms against my body. Two more belts were tied around my knees just above and jest below. My ankles were tied with thin rope, the jeans lifted so that the rope was in contact with my skin and digging in a little, and my big toes were tied together with a shoelace. rope went from my ankle bindings to my wrists which were also tied together behind my back. In my mouth was one of my clean white socks and my mouth was held shut around it very effectively with a wide strip of skin toned medical tape. To finish off one of my step mum's scarves was tied over my eyes.
I was not afraid. There was no sign of a struggle. No one else had seen me like this. I was enjoying myself in my own special way. I was 18 and obsessed with being tied up for as long as I could remember. I had not been tied up by anyone for over five years and then that was just in silly children's games. I had loved watching TV shows or films where someone was tied up and had wanted to experience it. My mother (god rest her) had caught me playing like that once or twice and had forbidden me to do it, the upshot was I just got better at hiding my activity. I don't know whether she had ever told my dad but I had kept it secret from him. Mum had died a few years previously and my dad had married Victoria, or Vixx, who was many years younger than him but still closer to his age than mine, just. Dad worked abroad a lot and Vixx worked part time so often after school and sometimes at weekends I was in the house alone. That is where I practised tying myself up. I had been doing this for nearly ten years and was getting better and better. I could now tie my hands behind me with a splip-knot even blindfolded and with my arms strapped to my sides, and that is what I had managed to do today.
As I kicked and struggled I would imagine being kidnapped by some domineering woman, the Jungle Queen form a Tarzan film or a spy or female robber. I sometimes fantasised about tying up women. In particular Lisa, the girl over the road who simply was not interested in me. I also had fantasies of seeing Vixx all tied up and gagged and struggling, that is when I was not fantasising about being tied up with Lisa.
Suddenly I heard a shouting from downstairs. “Jonathan. What's this mess doing here.”
Damn. Vixx was home early or I'd been tied up longer than I thought. I knew what she was talking about. My coat, school blazer, shoes and games kit were just dumped in the hallway in front of the door as I had come in. I struggled to reach the slip knot so I could free myself but I could hear Vixx still shouting at me and now I could hear her heels on the stairs.
“Jonathan....Oh my God. What's happened?” I felt her weight on the bed next to me then I felt the tape ripped off my mouth. I spat the sodden sock out. “Oh my God. Who did this? Oh my God.”
“Vixx, Vixx.” I blinked as the light dazzled me when she took my blindfold off then focussed on Vixx. She was wearing a white blouse, navy blue skirt and black tights with ankle strap patent black heels. “Vixx. No one did this. It's alright. No one did this”
“What?”
“I did it myself.” I could feel myself blushing but I knew a confession was better than the real trouble which could be caused by trying to make up a story of a robbery.
Vixx paused. “You so unlike your father.” she said.
“What?”
“I've been trying to get him interested in a little bit of kinky bedroom play for ages. You did this to yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Oooowwwmmmm. So lickle Johnny likes to bwe tied up thwen.” she said in a very teasing voice you'd normally use to a baby. “Open up lickle Johnny like a good boy.” She said as she picked up the soaked white sock.
“Hey waimmpphh.” She ripped another strip of tape off the reel and plastered it over my mouth taking another one and pressing it firmly on top. This was all going wrong I thought to myself. I wasn't supposed to be the one tied up bare footed and bare chested. I wanted to see her in her underwear all bound gagged and helpless. Her teasing went on.
“So lickle Johnny Like two bwe tied up thwen. And he uses mummy's scarf. Bad Bowy. Johnny will have to be punwished. Is lickle Johnny tickwlish?” With that she drew one of her finger nails round in a little circle round my belly button. I am very ticklish. insanely ticklish, especially on my tummy and feet. And here I was with my step-mum, all tied up and helpless and my most sensitive areas totally exposed and vulnerable. I jerked and wiggled on the bed.
“Oooh he is.” she said dropping the baby talk voice at last. “he seems very ticklish and I can tickle him here, or here , or here.” She said ad her fingers darted from my belly button to my sides, to my under arms. “Are your feet ticklish?” she did not wait for an answer but soon discovered yes as my bare soles felt her finger nails sliding slowly down them. “Are your feet ticklish?” she continued to tease as she made be buck and twist trying to kick my legs and each time tightening the slip knot round my wrists. Suddenly Vixx noticed something wrong with my hands.
“That's not right. Look you silly boy. You've tied a slip knot here. That could cause big problems. let me help.” I felt her fiddling with the rope on my wrists and felt the pressure released momentarily before I felt her winding the rope round and tying off again. “There that's better. It won't slip and tighten now, and you won't be able to get yourself free either.”
this was the first time I had been properly securely tied up. For the first time in my life I really was helpless, not tied up with my own slip knots or elastic bands, not simply looped and tied as my friends had done aged 9 or 10. I was properly tied up and gagged by my step mum of all people and I could not escape. I was loving it.
“Now I need to go and get some things.” Vixx said. “Don't go away. “She said as she tied her scarf back over my eyes.
I heard he heels click clicking on the stairs as she went down, then after a few seconds I heard the door shut. I was tied up, gagged and blindfolded on my own bed. I realised Dad was not back until late Sunday night so Vixx was free to keep me tied up and tormented for most of the weekend if she wanted. I was in Nirvana.
It was only a couple of minutes before I heard the front door open and heard the “click, click, click” of Vixx's heels once again on the floor and then on the stairs. I heard her enter my room.
“I've had these things for a while but your father just did not want me to use them.” I had no idea what she was talking about but heard her put something down on the table next to my bed. “Now I better go and get some tea ready.” She Finished and once again I heard her heels on the stairs.
My fingers felt for the knot she had tied round my wrists but I could find nothing. I tried to kick my legs back and I bent them to my bottom but I knew now I could not get my hands untied. Kicking my legs simply made the ropes bite harder into my wrists and ankles tightening all the time. the excitement was rising in me but I was also frightened of what was going to happen. after all I had never before been tied up so that I could not escape. there was always a slip knot or a loose rope left by a clumsy friend, or some stretch in the materials used.
I decided I had to try to escape. I rolled from side to side and : CRUNCH. I slid off the single bed and onto the floor. I heard feet on the stairs once more, no heels this time, when I heard Vixx at my door. Jonathan, are you all right?”
“Mmpphh, mmpph”
“Oh dear. I can't leave you alone can I.” I felt her hands pressing my face and limbs, checking for injuries I guessed, then I felt her pulling at my ropes. I was suddenly able to straighten my legs. Although I had deliberately tied my own legs up it did feel good to stretch out again and I wiggled my feet, tugging on the toe tie, as I tried to get some circulation back.
I felt myself dragged up to my feet then I was hoisted up and found myself hanging over Vixx's shoulder. It was highly embarrassing even if I couldn't be seen. I am the fairly typical lanky teenager where as Vixx keeps herself looking good for my father by regular use of the Gym and she has muscles where I don't have places. As I said I have fantasised about her before.
I felt myself being precariously carried down stairs before being sat down on the floor, then pushed onto myside, turned over onto my tummy and then felt the hogtie being re-instated, if anything even tighter than I had done myself.
“Now this time stay there and don't do anything silly.” Vixx's voice rang out in the way I would expect her to speak to a child who was still in single figure age.
I heard Vix in the kitchen opening cupboards and the fridge then switching oven and rings on and off. I still twitched my legs and feet a little and tried to reach my fingers towards any of the invisible knots holding me. I struggled and rolled side to side but found inadvertently that the strap round my chest was being doubly incapacitating. Firstly pinning my arms to my sides made it very difficult to move my hands to any where useful, secondly the restriction round my chest made breathing a little harder than normal and after not very long I gave up struggling through sheer exhaustion and lay flat on my stomach awaiting my fate.
Some time later I was back on the lounge floor. Much had happened. Vixx had untied my hands and removed the blindfold only to fasten some pink fluffy handcuffs round my wrists. Those were one of the things my father would not let her play with apparently. I had been made to hop to the bathroom for a break, still tied up and gagged. After this I had been made to hop to the kitchen where I had been able to feed myself as best as I could with hands tied in front of me. After the meal I had been hopped back to the lounge where Vixx had tied my hands behind me and re-hogtied me. I was left without a blindfold but she had re-gagged me, putting one of the discarded socks from my bedroom floor into my mouth before holding it in place with the scarf again. She had then gone to tidy up the kitchen before returning with a bottle of wine.
I was now lying very tightly hogtied, my hands almost touching my heels, and on my back. Vixx's was sitting in an armchair with her wine glass in one hand and cigarette on the other. She was resting her stockinged, shoeless feet crossed on my bare chest, her right heel pressing against my breast bone as she idly watched her soaps. From time to time she would point one of her toes and poke it into my belly button or press down on one of my nipples and make a little circling action, the rough nylon stimulating the sensitive flesh and making my skin tingle all over. I was also having to control, very unsuccessfully, an uncomfortable tight feeling in my jeans. During the add breaks she would run one of her feet up to my face and pinch my nose making me inhale and smell her sweaty tights further exciting me and making me moan and groan through my gag. she would also run her pointed toes up and down my chest and tummy, skipping over the belt round my arms, tickling me and inciting me to wriggle on the floor which elicited an evil little giggle form her as she felt me buck and squirm completely at her mercy.
After about 2 hours of this treatment her programmes finally finished and the news started. She put out her cigarette and bent down to me. “Having fun there?”
“Nnnn mmm nntt.” In reality my heart was pounding, I had a very tight feeling in my jeans, I had an itch I couldn't scratch and I was loosing myself in extacy. But this was my stepmother. I couldn't let her know I was enjoying it so much. It just wasn't normal.
Vixx flipped me onto my tummy which gave me a sudden, yet surprisingly pleasurable squeeze between my thighs, and then began to stroke her fingernails gently over the soles of my bare feet.
“Is lickle Jonny tickwish?” she teased again in the silly baby voice. I was straining and kicking against my bonds as she tortured me so but my hogtie was so tight I could barely move my feet 1-2 inches before the ropes dug cruelly in.
“I thwink Lickle Jonny is tickwish,” she said again, then loosing the baby voice “and I can tickle you here, or here, or here,” she continued whilst prodding me and stroking me with her fingertips and nails on my sides, under my arms and the soles of my feet once again. “and there's nothing you can d about it. Nothing at all. Your my little tied up plaything I can do what I want with.” She finished this by scraping both her hands down my bare soles.
“Mmppppnnnggg. mmmmnnggg. mmmmmmgggg.” I tried to scream through the gag. She was entirely right. I could do nothing. I was her prisoner to titilate tease torment and torture as she saw fit. and there was nothing I could do about it.
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Fantasmia's stories
- 01 - House Sitter (self/F)
02 - Step mom (f/m)
03 - French Lessons (F/Fm)
Index of all stories in the "Archive for Adults" section