Maria & Andrea: A Chance Beginning (F/F, Part 8 Added)

[FabianStr2016]

It really is a brilliant story! I love the more erotic scenes and the gag mentionings, I hope for another part!

[Proteus75]

Just as wonderful as your previous stories. The 'slow burn' is a thing of beauty. Looking forward to more!

[mention]NotSeen[/mention]

Thanks. More later this week (I hope).

[chelseykittyc@t]

Love this (:

[Proteus75]

It really is a brilliant story! I love the more erotic scenes and the gag mentionings, I hope for another part!

Part 4 on the way!

[Proteus75]

Love this (:

Thanks! Standby for more...

[Proteus75]

Part 4

As I predicted — and hoped — our first Saturday play-day had established a greater, albeit subtle, level of intimacy between Maria and me — almost accidentally. I was lousy with fatigue and endorphins, so I fell asleep right away after she tied me facedown on her bed.

But whether she knew it or not, Maria had put me into another predicament. My natural shifts while dozing tensed my bindings and disrupted my nap. Awoken over and over to the sumptuous press of Maria’s bonds girding my limbs — a firm reminder of her wicked power over me — I couldn’t help but become turned on. Worse yet, I began to reflexively thrust my hips into Maria’s bed during each relentless cycle of sleep, waking and re-arousal.

She had me. I knew she did. I was hers, and — in those moments, anyway — I’d let her do anything she wanted to me. But Maria kept on reading, and the crisp flip of the pages of her book became a cruel counterpoint to my sensual dilemma.

Finally I heard her clap her book shut, rise and walk over to the bed.

“Almost one o’clock,” she said softly, un-hooking the bungee cords from the bed frame. “Can you roll on your side?”

That was child’s play after my ordeal in the garage. I flexed my muscles to loosen up, and rolled over. Maria grasped my ankles, and with my hips as my axis, spun me so my calves were off the bed.

“Now hold tight, Andie…”

Andie…that mild endearment blended perfectly with her weight and warmth as she bent and wrapped her arms around me — and her reassuring strength as she lifted me to my feet. I was giddy with affection, and I felt like falling into her arms again.

But Maria was already loosening the bungee cord around my arms and kneeling to untie my thighs and ankles. My legs, so long compressed into a single column by her stringent trusses, felt a little unstable as they were loosened. Thankfully she had positioned me facing the bed, so I steadied myself against it as she cast the cords to the floor.

Then she removed my gag, and I automatically worked my jaw muscles and licked my lips. I’m getting good at this, I thought as Maria untied my hands, then almost giggled at that silly notion.

“There, how’s that?” Maria said, massaging my shoulders.

“Still amazing, Maria,” I replied, looking at her over my shoulder. “But I couldn’t really sleep well…”

“Yeah, I saw,” she said with a sly smile. “So now let’s get you all cleaned up.”

Without missing a beat, Maria grasped the bottom of my hoodie and began peeling it up and off my torso. Somewhat stunned, I raised my arms in the air, a gesture of surrender that allowed her to fully remove the garment — and leave me standing there in just my jeans and cream-colored brassiere.

My hoodie landed atop the ropes on the floor. Now I felt her warm breasts lightly brush my shoulder blades as she eased my bra straps down onto my biceps. Like her binding of me, these moves sent my mind into overdrive.

Yes, we’d changed in front of each other before. Yes, I’d dated guys in high school, and even enjoyed some clumsy make-out sessions.

But this was different — way different. Being in her presence — and the power of her overwhelming intent — wonderfully flummoxed me. I felt the heat of her animation on my back, and I knew I was awash in the tide of her being.

So her deft unsnapping of my bra strap, followed by her reaching around my belly to unsnap my blue jeans, seemed just footnotes to this glorious discovery of each other. I closed my eyes and leaned forward on the bed as Maria knelt to strip off my jeans. I shimmied my hips and thighs to speed the process, and this caused my bra to slide down my arms at the same time — fully baring my breasts.

Still kneeling, Maria tapped my ankle, signaling me to lift one foot up, then the other, so she could remove my socks. I clasped my arms over my chest as she snaked her fingers under the waist band of my white bikini panties, and gently slid them down my thighs to my calves. Unbidden, I lifted one foot, then the other, so Maria could whisk my panties off over my ankles.

My heart was beating wildly, and I was almost trembling. This is what I wanted, I thought...and here I was, naked in front of Maria. But like before, we needed an ice-breaker. I took a deep breath, and spun around to face my BFF.

Those eyes of hers…they pinioned my heart and soul as surely as her taut tethers had restrained my body. Looking up at her, I felt small yet beautiful…defenseless, yet precious.

“Awwww…look at those puppy-dog eyes of yours!” Maria said, smiling. “C’mere, you.”

Her hug seemed to reaffirm everything. I knew then we were finding our way to something bigger — not today, maybe not tomorrow, but later on. Right then I felt bound up in her loving embrace, which felt like a refuge for all my complex sensations and emotions — with the promise of deeper, richer mysteries to come.

“Ok, now off to the shower you go!” she said, turning me toward the door and giving my butt a light slap. Cupping my breasts in my hands, I trotted off to the shower.

Afterwards Maria wrapped me in some big beach towels and returned to her studies. Swaddled in towels, I settled on the couch for a nice, restful nap while my clothes dried.

There were no bindings to distract me this time. As I dropped off to sleep, I thought of Maria watching as I jogged naked to the shower. She grinned when I caught her looking, so I struck a sexy Hollywood-style pose for her — leaning back, right hand on the door jamb, left hand behind my head, left calf in the air.

Then I grinned right back at her before ducking into the bathroom.

[NotSeen]

A thing of beauty, this story. Maria is playing Andrea like an instrument, guiding her along one step at a time. Eagerly awaiting the next part.

[FabianStr2016]

What a wonderful story, I really hope there will be a continuation

[Proteus75]

What a wonderful story, I really hope there will be a continuation

Yes, more to come.

[Proteus75]

A thing of beauty, this story. Maria is playing Andrea like an instrument, guiding her along one step at a time. Eagerly awaiting the next part.

Soon...

[tickletied84]

Lovely story, builds gently and the element of cheekiness adds to the encounter!

[Proteus75]

What a wonderful story, I really hope there will be a continuation

There will be, just editing it. Look for it tomorrow, 10 am EST.

[Proteus75]

Part 5

I awoke later that afternoon when Maria placed my clothes — all clean, warm and folded — on the end of the couch. She gave me a little wave and returned to her room as I dressed. Her mom came home a short time later, and we got a booth at Chili’s. We had a nice relaxing dinner, chatting about work, school and other things.

But it felt a little strange, given all that happened. Maybe Maria sensed my awkwardness, because she rested her warm thigh firmly against mine during the latter half of the meal. And when her Mom was looking away, fussing over the check, Maria massaged my knee under the table, stroked my fingertips, and then — as fast as a snapping turtle — clamped her hand around my wrist and squeezed it…hard.

I felt like I was going to melt, right there in the restaurant.

They dropped me off at my house later that evening. My mom was out shopping, so I didn’t have to face ironically-charged questions like, “How’s Maria?” Or worse yet, “What did you and Maria do today?” I was very tired despite my nap, so I headed straight to bed, still enjoying the stiffness in my limbs from being Maria’s bound-up prisoner for hours that day.

Though I relaxed most of Sunday, I began to feel uneasy about our immediate future. On one hand, Maria had transformed her home into chambers of sexy distress for me. I could never look at her garage, kitchen or bedroom without reminiscing about being thoroughly and efficiently roped-up in those places, writhing in the aching pleasure of my own helplessness, at Maria’s whims.

On the other hand, it was a home Maria shared with her mother, who owned it; we could only play there in secret, and our playtime was limited by the demands of our families, work and school. I wasn’t worried about the sexuality; lesbian courtship was common at our high school, so I knew our moms wouldn’t mind if Maria and I dated. But even the most free-thinking parents would blow their top if they found their own daughter feeling up — and/or tying up — someone in their own home!

Then there was that; after rendering me helpless, then nude, Maria hadn’t laid a fondling finger on me — what had stopped her?

I could only analyze my own feelings. While I was to-the-moon thrilled at being the subject of her cruelty and kindness, I wondered if our new intimacy was necessarily sexual towards each other. I mean, besides being a virgin, I didn’t exactly know how to be with a woman in that way. And maybe Maria just liked being mean to me, and ruling over me, and didn’t want to risk the drama a so-called “normal relationship” entails. Well, that was still just fine, fine, fine! With me.

But that didn’t solve the space and schedule problems. As Sunday turned into Monday, and Monday into Tuesday, I began to ponder — in my free moments working at the pet store checkout line — when and if we’d have another encounter. People long the most for things they love when they’re absent, and this was no different. Moreover, I was eager to keep our new relationship (whatever the hell it was!) alive.

Though I could just drop by as usual, Maria might be busy with homework. We’d end up just hanging out like in the old days, and I’d wind up disappointed — something that Maria would read that on my face. She’d start thinking of me as “needy” — a word she and her mom often used to describe some of their former friends and boyfriends.

So like before, I tried to keep my cool. But during those anxious two days, I fantasized — a lot. I almost took care of myself, so to speak, but I couldn’t settle on one of the many, many scenarios in my masochism-addled brain (kidnapping? robbery? enslavement? punishment? captured spy?) to diddle myself to.

By Wednesday I couldn’t take it anymore, and decided to stop by Maria’s house that evening, come what may. She only had a half-day of school on Wednesdays, and her mom had her book club in the evening.

I was able to get off work a little early, and made it to Maria’s house around 4 p.m. My hair was pulled back in a black scrunchy, and I was wearing a navy-blue polo shirt, khaki Capri pants, white ankle-socks and my gray and pink running shoes.

It was overcast, and I saw that the light of the television flickering in the living room. When I raised my hand to rap on the door it suddenly opened.

“Oh, Maria!” I said, clapping my hand over my chest. “You scared me.”

“I thought you might be lurking out here!” Maria said. “Come on in.”

Maria had her hair up, and she was dressed in fuzzy slippers, gray sweat pants and sweat shirt — her usual study clothes. She muted the television and headed to the kitchen, waving for me to follow.

Suddenly she whipped around and kicked the leg of a kitchen chair — the same one she’d lashed me to on Saturday — pushing it out from under the table. She looked at me sternly, her eyes wide, her eyebrows raised.

“Have a seat,” she said pointedly as she drew up another seat. I sat down quietly and placed my purse, jacket and cell phone on the table.

“Well…hi,” I said nervously. “How’s your studying…”

I never got a chance to finish. She leaned forward and slammed her palms on the tabletop.

“Andrea!” she yelled. “What are you doing here today!”

“Maria…” I stammered. “I didn’t…I mean, you…”

“OH-MY-GOD!” she bellowed, rising from her chair and walking toward the door to the garage. “You just don’t have a clue, do you!?”

I sat stock still for a few moments as my mind and heart registered shock and deep disappointment. I was about to cry when I heard Maria calling out from the garage.

“I’m out here,” she said, her voice echoing in the vacant space. “Andie.”

Trembling, my eyes edged with tears, I rose and slowly walked down into the gloomy space.

“Hi!” Maria was standing right near the door, and I jumped again. “There you are, little one. Are you ready?”

I didn’t know what to think. Now Maria was wearing her red tank top, black yoga pants and black flats. She was also smiling — and holding several coils of that black vinyl rope. Moreover, her voice was buoyant, utterly unlike a few moments before.

My cardboard pallet from the other day was next to the wall, and beyond Maria — in the dead center of the garage and facing the garage door — stood a pinewood straight-back chair.

“I thought you might be back for more!” she said brightly.

Her voice calmed me a little, and I managed to smile up at her sheepishly.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes’,” she laughed. “OK now, let’s get your clothes off!”

Tremulous with confusion, relief and nervous anticipation, it was a wonder I could even make my muscles work to strip before Maria. But she watched me steadily as I peeled off my shirt and doffed my bra, dropping both items on the pallet, next to her sweat suit and slippers — the guise she’d worn to conceal her current, powerful attire.

Maria held my hand to steady me as I took off my sneakers.

“Don’t take off your undies,” she said as I shimmied out of my pants. “Oh, and put your sneakers back on…we don’t want your feet getting cold, do we…?”

My vocal chords seemed hopelessly locked. With my entire will absorbed in restraining my emotions, Maria’s commands became my volition, and I acted automatically. I was still stymied as she led me by the hand — clad in just my beige panties, ankle socks and sneakers — to the chair.

“Ok, now turn around and cross your wrists behind you,” she said quietly.

I complied, and immediately felt the sure authority of her bindings capture my hands. She skillfully wrapped and tightened the cord horizontally around my wrists a couple of times, then twisted it and did the same for two or three vertical turns.

It was happening…the confluence of two of my secret pleasures. Though part of me was still desperately trying to hold my emotions in, another part of me soared at being tied up topless by Maria for the first time…and knowing that this all came from a plan.

I winced as she wound the rope between my wrists and around the other loops, cinching and tautening the vertical and horizontal cords to a painful degree. As Maria completed her knots, my lower lip began to quiver — in gratitude. I squeezed my eyes shut as she spun me back around and had me sit on the edge of the chair seat.

Like Saturday morning, Maria knelt to bind my ankles and thighs with her practiced figure-eight loops, then tightened them further with several vertical turns. The black clothesline pinched and pressed sharply into my bare flesh, and I allowed myself to watch Maria roping me up.

I could see little else but her head, broad shoulders and arms. She was utterly intent and efficient, biting her lower lip with the effort of knotting off my leg bonds. I couldn’t help but marvel at how well the windings of jet-black clothesline contrasted with my java-colored skin, and accented my shapely thighs and calves.

I was also aware of how the rest of me probably looked — cute and curvy, but small and a bit pathetic. I was only wearing sneakers and panties, like some damsel who’s been robbed of everything, even her clothes.

Sitting on the chair edge arched my back slightly, forcing my chest and plump, pendulous breasts forward. Their vulnerable, unguarded state was amplified by my back-swept arms and hands, now dangling pinioned and useless just above my round-apple ass.

And still Maria tucked and tautened, compressing my limbs and sweet form into rich, sensual defenselessness with her cruel, constricting ligatures — seemingly without a thought about my feelings and loss of autonomy.

I was barely holding it together as she finished.

“There,” she said, looking up at me. “How’s that?”

How was that, indeed. Her question struck at the core of my being and I burst out crying, then outright bawling. Maria pulled me into her shoulder and patted my back.

“Hey, hey…” she whispered as my tears ran onto her tank top. “It’s all right, it’s all right, I know that was a little rough.”

“No, Maria,” I said, trying to stifle my sobs, “I thought…you yelled at me…but now…you’ve got me all…I mean, thank you, thank you!”

Maria laughed heartily, pulled me to my feet and sat down in the chair. Then she sat me in her lap and tucked me into her shoulder again, where I continued to snivel.

I don’t if she understood. Her tantalizing meanness and kindness, all my new, complex, roller-coaster feelings, wants and desires…it was all so much to handle. I liked that she liked me enough to toy with my emotions. She’s just so great, I thought, doing all this for me. I was a captive of my feelings as well as her tethers, and she knew it.

She held me for a few more minutes, and I began to really savor my situation. An hour before, I was an anonymous pet store clerk…now I was a beautiful little captive, tied up snug and half-naked in my best friend’s arms. I felt like I’d do anything for Maria at that point, and I began to kiss her neck, gently and softly.

“Whoa, that’s enough of that, young lady,” Maria said chuckling. “I’m not done with you yet.”

I was still snuffling as Maria plunked me down in the chair and pulled my arms over the chair back. Then she took a long length of cord, formed it into lark's head knot and secured it to my wrist bonds.

“Sit up straight, Andie,” she said gently. “That’s it. Now scooch back and sit flat against the back of the chair.”

I was puzzled but I obeyed, and felt my hands being pulled up — then up again. I grimaced, and some leftover tears streamed down my face, onto my shoulders and onto my bare breasts. I felt myself go wet as one tear actually rolled down and across my erect right nipple to finally drop onto my right thigh.

“Oooh…ooohh,” I groaned in torment-raptured pleasure as Maria secured my painfully raised hands to the top of the chair back.

“More to go,” she said as she ran the remaining lines over my shoulders, crossed them on my chest just under my neck, then wove them around my chest and arms, and in between the chair slats. It was as if I was welded to the chair, and it felt fantastic.

“There, now just a little more…”

Taking a last piece of vinyl line, Maria knelt and tied it vertically around my thigh bonds, looped it around the rung under my seat and knotted it off. Then she took the remainder of this line, looped it around my ankle bonds, pulled my feet under the chair and secured them off to the bottom rung. My calves were now lashed under the chair at an almost a 45-degree angle, and just my toes were touching the floor.

“Now for the bungee,” she said.

Bungee? But she already had my arms bound. Before I could guess her intentions, I felt her securing the black bungee cord to the back of the chair, at the bottom of the chair slats. Then I gasped as she worked the free ends under one of my cheeks, slipped her hand between my thighs, and pulled the bungee up between them.

“Maria…what in the heck…?”

“Shhhh…!” she hissed with a smile. “Don’t disturb the artiste’.”

My jaw slowly dropped as Maria pulled the cords taut, then began winding them over and over each other, fashioning them into a single, thick braid. Then she pulled the braid straight up, lodging it firmly between my cheeks — and against my nether regions.

She then drew the free ends of the braid up to my tummy, around my hips and waist and hooked them fast to the chair slats. Now in addition to my legs, chest and hands, I was secured to the chair by my buns — and mons.

So that’s why she told me to keep my underwear on, I thought. I wriggled involuntarily for an instant, making the chair squeak — and began to laugh.

“My God, Maria, you’re unbelievable!” I said. “What else do you plan to do to me!?”

“Ohhh, not much…” she said mildly. “My mom’s due home around 9…I figured I’d leave you here for her to find.”

“Maria!” I said in feigned shock. “You wouldn’t!” Even as I played along, I got more horny at the fantasy of being discovered, all roped up and half-nude.

“Yes, Andie, I would,” Maria replied in mock arrogance. “It’d serve you right for coming over, unannounced, on a school night.”

Still playing along, I squirmed about in comic rage — and inadvertently wedged the thick braid and panty fabric deeply between my vaginal lips. My clitoris, now utterly reined in by the braid, became rock-hard and I gushed anew, fully aroused now.

“Oh myyyyy,” I moaned softly, freezing my movements and squeezing my eyes shut. This was the final predicament, I thought…to be bound into orgasming by Maria, my BFF. Do I dare go for it, right in front of her? I thought.

Remotely, I heard Maria continue to spin the fantasy out.

“Can’t you just picture it? She opens the garage door to pull her car in, and here you are, in her bright headlights, trussed up in the buff for the world to see!”

I tried not to listen. I was a prisoner of Maria — and my own throbbing lady parts.

“…she might even invite the neighbors over…’hey,’ she’ll say, ‘lookit what a good job Maria did on her friend Andrea!’”

Don’t move, I told myself, don’t you dare move. It was quiet for a few moments, and I could sense Maria looking me up and down in smug satisfaction.

“Ok, Andie, I think you’ve had enough,” she finally said. “Besides, you should rest up — Saturday’s gonna be epic.” She walked behind the chair and loosened the bungee cord. I sighed deeply as the pressure abated and I regained some control.

After a few minutes she untied me from the chair and helped me hop over to the pallet. I sat there, still bound, while she moved about between the kitchen and garage, tidying things up. She stowed the chair at the back of the garage, and put my clothes, bungee and the spare ropes into a plastic bag.

Then she stuffed a black sock into my mouth, and secured it there with three long strips of torn baby-blue blue linen, which she knotted firmly at the back of my neck.

“By the way,” she said as she helped me hop into the living room, “I lied. Mom’s spending the night at her boyfriend’s. He lives near her doctor, so now she won’t have to drive that far for her morning appointment…and I get to keep you here for the rest of the evening!”

“Mummeah!” I pretended to protest.

It was still early, so we cuddled on the couch for a while. Then Maria said she had to make some phone calls, so she used the bungee cord to truss my arms and hogtie me like she did on Saturday. She turned off the lights and TV and left.

I felt like the luckiest girl in the world as I heard Maria stroll down the hall to her room and shut the door — leaving me lying all alone in the dark, bound up on her living room floor. Though it was warm, the fibers of the shag carpet teased my stiff nipples, making me faintly wish for the force of the braided bungee cord against my clitoris again.

So I rolled on my side and relaxed, looking up at the dark sky through the picture window. Occasionally I saw the flash of headlights as cars passed by, a sign of that normal, everyday world…out there. What would those drivers say if they knew I was lying hogtied, gagged, topless and helpless inside this ordinary suburban house?

My face felt a little itchy and I smiled, realizing that my salty tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving their crusty remains behind. They were like battle scars, and I was oddly proudly of them.

I rolled back again and flexed where I could, relishing the delicious constriction of Maria’s bindings on my body and imagining how good I looked, completely girded in black cords.

All in all, not bad for school night, I thought, recalling the events of the evening, and grinning as much as my gag allowed.

I’d kissed Maria on the neck, but she hadn’t allowed me, or us, to go any further. I guess I did want to be sexual with her, I concluded.

And even if Maria didn’t feel the same way, I still loved, loved, loved all the things she did to me.

That in turn made me speculate: what exactly did she mean when she said, “Saturday’s going to be epic”? What was I in for next?

[FabianStr2016]

This story is so hot and at the same time such great writing, the characters are interesting and their feelings described really well! I hope there will be more of this in the future, because it's just some really quality shit!

[NotSeen]

Maria is really going for the mind games, huh? Though Andi doesn't seem to really mind, so all good there...
This is so good. I'm really, really, really eager to find out what will happen on Saturday (and, even before that, how will Andrea get to spend the night?)

...also, I'm kind of interested in what might happen with the other couple of yours, in the other story...

[FabianStr2016]

I really hope you'll going to continue this story, it's so great!

[Proteus75]

Part 6

Left all alone and hogtied after her tie-and-tease of me in the garage, it wasn’t long before Maria’s ropes — and Maria herself — began pulling on my heart strings in earnest.

I was relaxed, at first. But like before, the position eventually compelled me to squirm back and forth — from lying on my stomach, to lying on my side.

Though these struggles relieved my stiffness, they redoubled the press and caress of Maria’s ligatures upon my flesh, exciting me even more — all according to her plans, I dreamily surmised.

Moreover, I was only wearing my sneakers and panties; for all intents and purposes, I was nude. I liked being that way in front of Maria; it was part and parcel of her dominance of me, and my submission to her.

However, this was the first time she’d tied me up naked, and the combination felt amazing.

While trussing me up tightly was Maria’s shrewdest machination, leaving me alone ran a close second: it abandoned me to the scintillating stirrings of my own imagination. Unlike our other sessions, however, I didn’t envision myself as a kidnap victim, or some other kind of damsel-in-distress.

No, my mind was fully involved in my predicament, and the person who’d created it: Maria, my old BFF — and now my tormenting mistress. Something about binding me brought out the devil in her, and my entire being lapped up her cruel scheming as if it was chocolate ice cream.

And though I liked her torments — and loved that she liked tormenting me — I wanted more, much more. She’d seen me thrusting my hips against her bed during our first session, and earlier she’d crotch-roped me in the garage. She had to know how all this aroused me.

Maria and I had been friends a long time, so naturally we’d talked and gossiped about all kinds of things — including our classmates who had come out as gay or bi. However, the lesbian thing had never come up between us; heck, it had never even crossed my mind.

Yet here I was — hogtied in her house, naked but for panties and sneakers — her helpless, hopelessly horny prisoner who longed for her.

So I didn’t care if I was gay or bi or whatever…I only cared that Maria cared for me, and that was all that mattered. I hoped she was turned on too…more specifically, I hoped that I turned her on.

Lying there on the floor, a tautly-bound little package, I began to wonder when she might kiss me, or caress me. Would we ever transcend the teasing to become…well, lovers?

Yet amid my mounting desire for Maria, I could also see myself continuing to submit to her dominance — even if we didn’t become sexually intimate. I knew some part of me would always crave being the object of her sadistic devices, and I wanted more of that, too.

And in that vein, two things she’d said also preyed on my mind: "I get to keep you here for the rest of the evening,” and "Saturday’s goanna be epic.”

The rest of the evening...? Just how long did she plan to keep me captive? Gagged and tied up like this, how could I call my mom to tell her I might be late? Would being Maria’s prisoner make me be tardy to work the next day, or make me miss work altogether?

This move seemed particularly subversive on Maria’s part: it was if she knew I’d continue yielding to her, even if it meant getting in trouble at home or at my job — and she didn’t seem to care.

And along with confirming that, her remarks revealed another truth: she took it as a given that I’d be hers all evening, all day Saturday and beyond…her little toy to play with as she wished. By dint of my docility and submission, Maria had taken me as her right, privilege and due.

I don’t know quite how to explain my feelings. There are things we get involved in, that even when we’re involved in them, we wonder why we’re involved in them — but we stay involved in them, just the same.

That sounds crazy, right? But that’s about how my thoughts were running, right then. It’s like boarding a roller coaster for the first time. Though the alarm bells go off in your brain, you still anticipate the excitement of the ride.

Paradoxically, I was enjoying my alarm bells as well. I felt that Maria getting me in trouble at home, or fired from my job, would seal us closer together, somehow. She had the power to manipulate other parts of my life, and that extended her ownership over me.

Owned. I only hoped that was true. I rolled on my side again, sighed deeply, and relaxed into my bonds once more.

That is, until I heard Maria’s bedroom door open — followed by her sure, strong steps as she strode down the hall.

My pulse quickened. The roller coaster ride was about to resume.

[chelseykittyc@t]

Love. This. So much

[Proteus75]

Thank you!

[Rdo4y8]

Really glad to have this one back.

[Proteus75]

Really glad to have this one back.

Thanks for your support!

[Proteus75]

Part 7

The sound of Maria’s swift approach fired my tired, trussed limbs. I quickly rolled onto my stomach, then vigorously twisted my hips and shoulders to roll onto my other side and face the kitchen.

I squinted into the harsh light and waited for Maria to appear. I felt like a submissive puppy, exposing its tummy to its master.

In that instant Maria’s silhouette eclipsed the light, allowing my eyes to adjust. She seemed to just stand there, staring down at me. I saw that she was still wearing her tank top, yoga pants and flats.

As I said before, Maria’s more stocky than curvy, but she’s well-endowed, with broad, strong shoulders. Lying there helpless, with Maria looming far above, I began to truly appreciate — actually, love — all her features.

With longing I recalled her muscular man-handling of me…and the way she gently eased me into various helpless positions and predicaments. I also remembered how her generous breasts — by accident or design — often tantalizingly touched my skin, or pressed into my flesh as she tied me, gagged me, lifted me or laid me down.

These memories and the the corona of light around Maria’s feminine form gave me a powerful impression of her as some ancient, primitive Goddess — who was wise, strong and compassionate.

Suddenly her silhouette disappeared, and the light blinded me again. I was disoriented until I felt Maria kneeling hunched down next to me, stroking my cheek.

“Hey there, little one!” she said brightly. “It’s about seven o’clock. We have a lot to do, but we still have a lot of evening left. First, let’s get you seated on the couch.”

Hogtied as I was, I couldn’t imagine how that would happen. But that thought whirled away as Maria grabbed my biceps and stood, lifting me to my knees in the process. Then she let go and sat on the couch.

Struggling for balance, I fixed my eyes on the couch’s dust ruffles, dug the tips of sneakers into the carpet, sat my butt on my ankles, and leaned forward slightly, relying on my center of gravity for stability.

Though I felt steadier, I realized I was in a servile, begging position before Maria. Risking my balance, I looked up and was instantly locked into her beaming gaze.

If she was a Goddess, then I’d been transformed from puppy to penitent.

She smiled down at me and I involuntarily flexed, once more feeling the unyielding rigidity of her ropework binding my body — a reminder that she could do anything, anything she wanted to me.

My entire being began tingling again. Yes, I wanted that. Yes, I wanted her.

Though my sock-stuffed and linen-strip secured mouth didn’t allow for much facial expression, Maria understood my pleading eyes. She scooched forward to the edge of the couch and planted her feet on either side of me.

“Awww, poor Andie,” she said, making a mock pouty face, then smiling again. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you, always.”

She then clamped me firmly between her knees and stroked my cheek again. The pleasing warmth of her odd embrace spread up and down my tightly bound body, and I shivered.

I could barely process all this…I didn’t know whether to laugh of cry. Resuming her agenda, Maria grabbed my biceps again, lifted me up, and sat me side-saddle on the couch next to her, so that our knees were touching.

But that move instantly tightened the section of bungee cord that lashed my hands to my ankles, wedging it firmly between my panty-clad cheeks — only one of which was actually on the couch.

I wiggled, trying to find proper footing, but I could only dig my sneaker tips into the rug again. I was about to topple over when Maria stuck her right index finger under the bungee cords binding my arms and chest — righting me, but cinching these ligatures even more.

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, I tried to thank her — but my gags only allowed me to murmur “Mumph-mumph.”

“I guess you mean ‘thank you,’ right Andie?” she said with a giggle. “No thanks are necessary, darlin’. Like I said, I’m always here for you, I’ll take care of you.”

I gazed at Maria lovingly, but she was looking me up and down, her brow stitched with concern.

“God, look at all the carpet lint you picked up!” she exclaimed.

I glanced down. It was true…tiny fibers, dust motes and a few black hairs were sticking to my arms, chest and thighs.

“Should I get the vacuum out and suck all this off you, Andie…?” she suggested playfully. “Nah, let’s save that for another time.” With that, she began to pick, pluck, brush the carpet debris off me.

The vacuum fantasy lent extra savor to Maria’s kind ministrations. She sometimes pinched my skin as she groomed me, and my nipples rose in response, eager to feel Maria’s pinches as well.

But Maria didn’t rise to the bait of my freshly fervid breasts, and she didn’t fall to fondling them as she finished tidying me up. Even so, I trembled some as one of her knuckles made fleeting contact with one bosom.

“There,” she declared with satisfaction. “I’m sorry you got dirty, but that plays well into my plans for you. Hey, what are you looking at?”

In my growing arousal, my eyes had drifted over to the TV. It was off, so I could see the two of us mutely reflected on its wide, darkened screen.

Of course, it resembled a familiar tableau — two best friends sitting facing each other, knees to knees, on a couch. Maria’s mom had this couch for as long as I could remember, and we’d sat on it like this hundreds of times, talking, gossiping and laughing.

But the softened image also reflected my baby-blue gag, and the tails of its knot flailing out, like wings, under my scrunchy at the back of my neck…the faint lines of the tight green bungee cord crossing over and around my arms and chest…and fainter still, the shiny black vinyl clothesline that held my hands, thighs and ankles fast and secure.

It also showed that I was wonderfully naked and vulnerable…and that Maria, fully clothed, in charge, was smiling and holding me upright. It was as if we’d walked through a mirror, and discovered our respective, sexier and authentic selves.

Maria saw it too. She reached behind me and clasped one of my bound hands. Held firmly in front by her single finger, and from behind by her hand in mine, my heart began to flutter in earnest. I felt as if I was suspended in the air, like a kite soaring in the wind.

“What a sight!” she said buoyantly. “It’s looks like we’re having a tea party.”

Then she twisted her finger in my chest bonds to a tortuous degree, and pulled me closer.

“Except,” she whispered seductively in my ear, “I have you all tied up.”

God, how I loved, loved, loved how she lorded her control over me. I was afloat in her gloating, ensconced in her dominance of me. I shut my eyes again, the reflected image of us emblazoned upon my mind.

She began to gently kiss my neck, and nuzzle my earlobe with the tip of her nose...her breast gently grazing mine. Utterly stymied in my fixed and powerless state, I broke out in a hot, trembling sweat instead — my lady parts throbbing in unison with my wildly beating heart.

This was it…the beginnings of the intimacy I’d been craving. Her mild touches, combined with her sound strictures, were intoxicating. Supping her kisses, I slowly writhed my hips, and raised my head and chest — offering her more of my neck and my body.

“Mmmmm,” I purred through my gags. “Mmmmm-mmmm!”

Of course, this passion was sharpened by the memory of her cryptic and contradictory remarks, and the almost overwhelming suspense they inspired:

“we have a lot to do”…“my plans for you”… “I have you all tied up”…“I’m always here for you”…“I’ll take care of you.”

As these things tumbled chaotically through my brain, Maria began to nibble at neck and shoulder, making me moan even louder.

"I’ll take care of you"…I hung all my hopes, and horniness, on that last sentiment. As if in affirmation, Maria sighed deeply and kissed my earlobe — and I sighed deeply too.

She unclasped my hand and sat up.

“Whew!” she said, fanning herself. “That’s enough for now. Let’s get on with things.”

Still grasping my chest cords, Maria knelt down and loosened my hogtie.

“Ok,” she said. “Now you can hop to the kitchen table. I’d carry you, but you need the practice.”

She stood, pulling me up with her. Despite my prolonged bondage, I was surprisingly spry. She took me by the shoulders and turned me toward the kitchen.

“Focus…” I told myself. “It’s just a few yards, don’t blow it…not after everything Maria has done for you…and is doing for you.”

Sensing my hesitation, Maria gave my ass a sharp slap.

“C’mon Andie, you can do it…hop to it!”

Drinking in the electrifying stinging of my cheeks, I bent my knees, preparing to make a series of springs into the kitchen.

A new phase of my captivity was about to begin.

[FabianStr2016]

So great to have a continuation after so much time! I really hope for a continuation soon, your work is great!

[Pen Dreadful]

You're back!!

I'm so glad to see this story continued: it and your other one were some of my favorites. It's so much fun to see Andrea falling so head-over-heels in her helpless, submissive position. Hope to see even more soon.

[Proteus75]

So great to have a continuation after so much time! I really hope for a continuation soon, your work is great!

Thank you! More soon.