Plymouth. (MF+/F+) *NEW 15/02 NEW* (Finished...?)

Stories that have little truth to them should go here.
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RopeBunny
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Post by RopeBunny »

009.

"Checking in please."
"Yes of course. Miss...?"
"Oh. Um." I shouldn't have to think about my name, despite having two I know I'm Brooke really, Plymouth is just a stage name, a container for the bondage loving kinky bitch inside.

It shouldn't be hard. However. Not only is it late, but right now Alicia's stood behind me, skinny fake E cup body pressed firmly against my back, reaching around left and right to tease my own fake breasts.

All in full view of the youngish guy working graveyard shift at reception, who really doesn't know where to look.

"Brooke." Squirming as Alicia slips one hand up inside my tee, I swat it back out. "Would you stop that."
"Make me." Spoken right into my ear, accompanied by the flick of her tongue.

Alicia's hand, slipping back up under my tee.

"Seriously." Not mad, of course not. It's all a game, I pull her hand back out, spin around whilst keeping hold of it, now face to face with Alicia, inches apart. "Can't you wait for five minutes?"
"No." Kissing me, her other, still free hand, now diving up under my tee. "Not when you look so fuckable."
"I look like a sweaty mess." Smiling though, because of the compliment.

"Want me to clean you?" Pulling up my tee, face and tongue darting down, and in, licking across my cleavage.

"Do I have to bind and gag you?" Grabbing both arms now, pulling them around behind her, stepping in close to mash my still exposed breasts against her. I lick Alicia across the lips. Playing. Teasing. "Hmmm?"
"Yes." Like a whisper, breath still caught from moments ago when I pinned her. "I'll be good," swallowing, "if you tie me up."

"Um. Ladies? Brooke?"
"Just a moment." Waving, an idle gesture back over my shoulder at the receptionist. "I'll sign stuff just as soon as I've sorted this out."

Alicia doesn't stop me when I pull both her tee and bra up, off. The receptionist, when I glance over at the desk, has clearly run away to hide in the back room. Unzipping my case I stuff Alicia's clothes inside, then, after some rummaging around, manage to find rope and a scarf.

One of the benefits of travelling by train, or of no longer travelling internationally, is that my baggage isn't checked throughly, which means I've still got the rope I bought in New York.

"Are we. Um. Am I." I can't stop myself smiling, turning back around to face a topless Alicia, rope and scarf in hand. She's biting her lip, gaze flitting left to right around the empty reception area, arms crossed protectively over her breasts.

"Are you?" Looking around myself, left, right, taking in the three possible routes we could be interrupted from. Not counting the reception desk.

"Won't I get arrested," smiling at me, nervous but excited- I can tell by the rise and fall of her impressive chest -at what I've done, am still doing, Alicia bites her lip again, "for. You know." Looking down at her chest. "Letting the twins out."
"Mine are canons." Doing a quick small jump, making my F's bounce. "Twins works well too."
"Canons huh?"
"Seemed appropriate."
"Indeed." Licking her lips, each of us quite clearly eying up the others large rack.

"It's. What?" Glancing at the clock above the desk. "Stupid AM." I shrug. "Who's going to see?"
"I...."
"Ali." The shortened name slipping out, she grins at me, I smile back. "If you don't want to." Taking a step back, patting my suitcase, her clothes inside. "You don't have to."

Because not everyone into bondage is into it the way I am. Not everyone who loves being tied up wants to be tied up out in the open, not caring if the whole world can see them bound and gagged, tits out.

"Um...." Arms still covering her E cups, and, I can see in her face she wants to. Wants to not care, to let me have my fun.

But she can't.

We aren't all so bondage obsessed that we don't give a fuck about trivial things like consequences.

"Here." Pulling my pink tee off, holding it out with a smile and a wink, to show I'm not mad at her for bottling it. "You can have mine."
"Oh." Reaching out instinctively, the same way you catch something, anything, if it's thrown your way. "Thanks?"
"You're welcome." Smiling wider, hands stuffed into jeans pockets as Alicia pulls my tee over her head, covering up. I'm deliberately not covering my still white bra clad breasts.

Not to be mean, not to score points. I just don't feel self conscious being under dressed in public.

"Couldn't. Um." Quick lick of her lips, a flashed smile when our eyes meet. Is she trying to play still?

"What?" Hands still in my pockets, the rope and scarf are resting atop my suitcase, because I couldn't hold onto them and strip. I shrug. "Couldn't what?"
"Couldn't. Um? Can't." A waved gesture at my body. "Can't I have that too?"
"My bra?" Looking down, eyebrows raised. "Isn't it a tiny bit too big for you?"

Cheeky. Teasing.

"Well...." Cupping her own breasts, one per hand, before stepping closer and reaching out, doing the same to mine whilst I keep my hands in my pockets. Leaning in, pulling the front of my left cup to peer down inside, slight mock frown as she no doubt pretends to judge the size of my breasts versus hers.

Small inviting smile on my face as she does.

"Maybe." Stepping back, seesaw maybe gesture with her hand. A shrug. "Can I have it anyway though?"

If she can't, will I?

Stupid question.

"You know I had this whole fantasy thing." Taking my bra, walking around me- hands back in my pockets all casual like -to my suitcase. "In my head."
"Is that right?" Not turning around. "That why we shared a bus?"
"No. I actually do live in Vegas, on the outskirts, the other side though. It's," brief pause, maybe she shrugs but I'm not turning around to see, "another bus after the bus we shared. But I wanted to come here. With you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."

Sudden knowledge of someone, Alicia of course, standing right behind me. Followed by small kisses tracing a line up my spine from waist to neck, pushing my hair over one shoulder as she comes.

Making me shiver.

Hands still in pockets, I don't turn around.

"So." Trying to keep my voice casual like my pose, almost succeeding. "About this fantasy?"
"I wanted you to tie me up." Hands, snaking around from left and right, slipping up onto my breasts, cupping, thumbs teasing and stroking my nipples. "Tight. I wanted you to fuck me whilst I lay hogtied on the bed."
"That. Ahhhh." Arching my back, can't stop myself. "Is that right?"
"It's what I daydreamed after Brad rang to say he'd added you to the shoot. I'm still new to this." Flick of her tongue across my ear. "To porn. Bondage. I've seen your work Plymouth." Squeezing both my breasts at the same time she bites my neck. "You're amazing."

So she is a fan.

Fuck.

"Well." Trying to focus on words, having a hard time even thinking straight. "We could do that."
"We could." Hands slipping off my breasts, snaring my arms as they retreat, pulling both backwards, hands coming out of pockets, wrists bumping together behind my back. "But this." Feeling coarse rope against my soft skin, gentle but firm tug pinning my left to my right. Alicia kisses my neck. "This works too."

The tie feels simple, but tight. Secure. Not that I'm feeling inclined to attempt a prison break. Alicia's fantasy might of been for me to bind her, but I've always been happy playing either side of the tie up game.

I'm horny enough, especially now I'm half naked, now the ropes are out, that what I want is a fuck, regardless of little details such as who ties up who.

So I don't protest at being bound, or at being gagged with the scarf.

"Hello?" My bra, one strap, is stuffed into her small black spandex shorts, the rest hanging down behind Alicia's legs, bouncing and swaying as she moves. She's walked around me, to the still deserted counter. "Hello? Anybody?"
"Mmmfffpppfff." I comment, stepping up beside her, shrugging.

"I don't know?" Turning to look at me, smile breaking out on her wide slashed mouth. "Damn but you look good enough to eat."
"Ffffpppggggg." Doing a couple of little bounce jumps on the balls of my feet, making the canons dance for her. "Mmmgggmmm."
"Once we get to your room." Nodding at my gagged nonsense, treating it as actual words. Cute. "Which we can't access without a key." Turning back to the desk, knocking knuckles on the polished wood. "You still back there fella?"

"Yes."
"Can we get a key?"
"It's." Out he comes, one hand over his eyes, the other waving towards the desk. "Just on the shelf, if you lean across."

I probably shouldn't spend so much of my time in hotels antagonising the staff.

"Got it." Leaning forwards, treating me to a nice view of her breasts falling forwards, changing the shape of my, her, tight fitting pink tee, pressing the fabric, nipples bumping the wood. "Thanks."
"Can you sign the paperwork?"
"Sign the...?" Alicia, frowning, key in hand as we both look down at the printed sheet the key had been resting on. At the same time I'm shaking my head.

"Mmffffpppgggggg." No. I can't sign anything.

"What's that?" Moving his hand, which means he gets an eyeful of topless and gagged me, head still shaking, Alicia stood beside me waving the key like a victory flag.

Like a couple of children playing I guess.

"What the...." Mouth open, clearly lost for words, for a moment. "Why is she gagged?"
"Fffppppggggggg gggmmmmfff ppfff gggmmm mmmgggggpphhh."
"Yeah." Laughing, slapping my jeans clad butt. "Like that made any sense."
"Ffffgggggpppppmmm."
"Well it didn't." Shrugging, turning to face the still shocked looking receptionist. "Because." Looking at me, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Because why not. Plus she looks cute."

"I...." More open mouthed shaking of his head, unable to look at me but unable to look away.

I really, really, should stop antagonising the staff.

But I can't. So I treat him to a couple of small bounces.

"Done." Noisily placing pen back atop of paper, standing back up straight, patting my butt again. "Come on." Smiling at me. "Brooke. Let's go find our room."
"Four oh seventeen." Waved arm at one of our two possible exits, because the third is the door back outside. "Lifts are that way."
"Thanks."
"Ffffmmmpppfff."

Which at least earns me a bemused smile, a shake of the head as he watches Alicia take hold of my suitcase handle, me following it and her out of reception, giving him back his no doubt quiet uneventful shift.

This isn't, which says something of the life I lead, my fist time semi naked and bound in a hotel corridor. Last time was in America too. Last time I'd willingly made myself a cute skinny Asian girls captive, a fun back and forth I had going on whilst attending a weekend bondage convention.

Attending as a model, there to work.

Last time the experience had led to some pretty vivid and exciting dreams after the event, dreams of real capture, one of my secret bondage wishes, that, already tied up, I should be captured all over again, becoming even more helpless since whoever has me now isn't whoever I agreed should be in charge.

Dangerous. But. Fun times in my head.

This time- my second hotel bondage walkabout -passes without interruption. Nobody in the lift but Alicia and me, nobody in the corridor we walk.

She walks beside me, smiling, glancing across often as my suitcase squeaks along behind us, my messenger bag bouncing off her hip.

In my room we find a shower big enough for two. Alicia frees me, though I'm not clear on why, but it does make for a more mutually playful shower. We spend a long time soaking under the warm spray, soaping each other up, washing each other down.

Kissing.

Exploring.

Eventually moving on to the bedroom, the bed.

Where, having quickly popped back into the bathroom for a pee, I discover Alicia passed out upon my return, snoring gently.

"Okay." Whispering, slipping in beside her, snuggling closer and snaking one arm in for a cuddle. "Tomorrow then."

With my free hand I set an alarm, not wanting to miss my train. Then, looking at Alicia I grin, and reset it two hours earlier.

Making time to play.
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Post by GreyLord »

Is it Plymouth or Brooke that can't stay out of trouble? Possibly both?
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

Alicia is a real tease, in more ways then one, albeit somewhat unintentionally towards the end.

Also it seems Plymouth's reign of terror against hotel staff continues. Outside of the anecdote she shared, I also remember a certain time when she was found by room service tied to the bed...
RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago giving him back his no doubt quiet uneventful shift.
Perhaps, although I do know someone who works night shift as a hotel receptionist, and some of the stories they have shared are certainly interesting... Not quite as interesting as this one, but still pretty out there.
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Post by Fandango »

Another great chapter with a fun vibe. I find Plymouth's unpredictability to be fascinating. It's part of what makes her such an enthralling character. It's great to see that Plymouth is now near my neck of the woods.

I normally do feel bad for the hotel staff that get caught up in her hijinks, however, this man operates a hotel reception desk in off-strip Las Vegas. If he can't handle two half naked women playing around, then Electric Daisy Carnival is going to eat this guy alive when it comes to town. He won't survive the winter. Plymouth and Alicia are just helping him get ready.
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Post by RopeBunny »

BlissfulMisery wrote: 1 year ago Perhaps, although I do know someone who works night shift as a hotel receptionist, and some of the stories they have shared are certainly interesting... Not quite as interesting as this one, but still pretty out there.
I'd love to hear all about it.

Thanks for the continued comments and views everyone :D
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Post by RopeBunny »

010.

"The fuck is...?"
"S' my alarm." Untangling myself from Alicia, rolling over to tap and slide fingers across my phone screen. "Some of us have got trains to catch."
"At." Fumbling for her own phone. Tapping. Her huff makes me grin. "Who gets a train at fucking seven in the morning?"
"People with jobs." I shrug. "But my train isn't until ten."
"Then." Rolling back over to me, propping herself up on one elbow, giving me a semi glare. "Why are we awake at seven?"

"Well." Grin getting wider. "Prehaps someone remembered someone else had an interesting daydream." Rolling onto my own side, fixing my gaze on hers, reaching out to brush at a nipple. "So prehaps someone thought waking up early might give us time to make it all real."

"Oh."
"Indeed." Watching the smile grow then shrink on her pretty face, that wide slash of a mouth. Watching her nerves surface, her breathing get quicker. I lean in and kiss her. "Go pee, or whatever, then get that sexy ass back here so I can hogtie it."

"Are you going to fight me?"
"What?" Confused, frowning. "Why would we fight?"
"Part of the game." Sat on one side of the bed facing inwards, Alica, both of us naked still, sat on the other facing me. I shrug. "Maybe you want me to take you by force or something?" I grin. "Make me work for it."
"Oh." As though the idea had never occurred to her. "Um."

In the few moments it takes her to think, I stretch, both arms reaching straight out left and right, chest pushed forwards.

Alicia's eyes tracking to my breasts.

"Nah." Shaking her head. "I. Um." Standing up with a little bounce, suddenly nervous her gaze darting on then off mine. "I. Um. I want you to tie me up properly. To do it well. So. Um. If we're fighting you might not be able to."
"True." Nodding, because she's right, if I have to force the hogtie it won't be my best work.

"Have you been hogtied?" Standing too, picking up one of several ropes pulled from my suitcase. "For a shoot. Or." Shaking the rope out. "Fun?"
"Just." Licking her lips, eyes on the rope. "Once. For a shoot."
"So." Thinking. Fuck me she is new to all this. "I should go easy right?"
"Fuck no." Nervous laughter bubbling up from her. Alicia blushes, swallows. Shakes her head. "I. In my fantasy you were pretty evil."

"Evil?" Raised eyebrows.

"Evil." Nodding, swallowing down some more of her nerves. "I don't want you to hold back. Please. Brooke." Fixing me with a look, half nerves half fear half lust and excitement. "Plymouth. Show me the best hogtie you've got."

The worst, but in many ways the best, I've ever been tied was by a girl who was. Brutal, is a good word. She tied me harshly, tightly. She took charge.

I decide to emulate her, to go full throttle, to take charge and own the shit out of Alicia.

Besides she did ask me to.

She let's out a cute little squeal as I push her backwards onto the bed, bending to scoop up all my ropes, tossing them after her.

Wading in myself.

"Might regret this soon." Grinning as I roll Alicia onto her stomach, climbing up with rope in hand to straddle her butt and upper legs. "My best is pretty fucking tight."
"Yeah?" Nerves still obvious, letting out a small moan as I rake long nails across her butt cheeks. Offering me her arms, holding both out behind her. "I can take it."
"We'll see." Slapping my fresh scratches, bending down, brushing my nipples across her back even whilst I whisper. "Ready or not, here I come."

Way way back, when I had a girlfriend who wasn't a psycho super Domme, now thankfully an ex. But. Anyway. Back when I had a proper girlfriend, a fellow bondage porn star, we used to practice ties on each other.

The hogtie I put Alicia in is one I spent time working out the how and where does the rope go back then.

It's tight.

I attack her with rope, just as the brutal super Domme used to do me. I'm harsh to the point of yanking and tugging each knot hard enough to pull her limbs around.

And am pleased to see my efforts are not going unnoticed.

Pinned underneath me, definitely my prisoner, Alicia grunts or moans frequently, swearing often too.

But she doesn't say stop, or enough. Because of course if she did I would.

Probably deducts points from me that I never told the psycho to stop, that for all she did I never actually wanted her to stop. Not until the end anyway.

I'm not sure she would've stopped.

I bind Alicia's wrists together, followed by her elbows, yanking the ropes to force them together, earning me a grunted. "Fuck."

I grin, and carry on.

A complex chest tie involves passing rope around Alicia's shoulders, using the rope to draw them backward, further thrusting out the chest I've wrapped above and below, squeezing those enhanced E cups.

Climbing off I tie ankles and knees, above and below. And because we're being evil I wrap another around her upper thigh, adding in a knotted crotch rope, enjoying the moan when I press and settle the knot directly atop Alicia's clit, tying it off tight. Holding the knot in place.

Every one of her breaths is a quiet moan now, the tight ropes beginning to take their toll.

Time to finish her off.

It's called, unless the internet lied to me, a chicken wing. Because that's what Alicia's arms look like when I'm done. Planting her hands on the small of her back, I splay the fingers out left and right, before using a rope to link wrists to the chest harness at a point above her breasts. Which pins Alicia's arms into a chicken wing looking type triangle, her bound elbows pointed at the ceiling.

It pulls her upper body, her breasts, up off the bed too.

I help them stay airborne. A rope linking ankles to elbows, tugged and harshly yanked to a moaned chorus of. "Shit shit fucking shit."

And now she's done, body bent and held in a curve, E cups hanging in space.

Looking stunning.

"What." Having half rolled, half fallen, onto her side, grinning at me as I chamber around to lay beside her. "No." Stretching, or trying to anyway. "Fuck that's tight. No gag?"
"Thought you'd like a kiss first?" Stroking long nails up her belly from waist to neck, through and between her E cups, curling around to trace circles atop one breast.

"A kiss." Licking her lips, quick shiver as my nail catches on a nipple. "I'd like that."

I lean in, pressing my lips, my body, against Alicia, reaching around to hug her, to draw her close.

"Mmmmm." Eyes half closed as I pull back. "A girl could get used to that."
"Indeed." Smiling back, rolling off the bed to fetch my scarf.

"Listen." Sat, perched on the edge, looking down at Alicia in all her hogtied glory. Simply stunning. "I'm going to gag you now."
"Right?" Little wriggle, E cups going bounce, looking back up at me. "And then...?"
"And then." Grinning at her slightly nervous expression, definitely not yet completely used to being bound. "You can have ten minutes before I join in."
"Ten?" Frowning.

"Trust me." Patting her butt. "I made these ropes pretty tight-"
"-Pretty." Interrupting, stretching, grunting. "Fucking tight."
"Pretty fucking tight." Nodding. "So I don't want you bound for long. So. Ten minutes." Pointing at the wall mounted flatscreen, the small digital clock display across the bottom. "Have a struggle-"
"-Have a struggle?"
"It'll be fifteen minutes," flicking her nipple, "if you keep talking over me."

"Sorry." But not. Grinning, tone still teasing. "Ten minutes to struggle." Nodding up at me, trying to look serious now. "Got it."
"And then...." Waiting for another interruption, not getting one. Alicia shrugs up at me, all fake innocence. I tut, flick her nipple again. "And then I'll come ungag you, take away a couple of ropes. Have a play."

I knot the scarf, twice, making it into something like a ballgag, the fair sized rough ball shaped wad of wool does a good job of filling Alicia's mouth.

For a couple of minutes I ignore her, on purpose. Facing away from the bed, fake pretending to sort out my suitcase when really all I'm doing is listening to her moan, listening to the bed, the mattress, the sound of springs on and off pressure as she moves.

When I do turn around, damn, for a moment there's a strange sense of being in two places at once.

Because she- young, skinny with crazy coloured hair, inked and fake chested -really does look like my twin.

I've seen myself bound on my laptop of course, many times. Reviewing footage, editing videos or deciding which images to save and use. But this isn't my laptop.

This is real.

And she struggles like I struggle, by which I mean it's clear to see Alicia's into it. Despite the pain and discomfort, because that hogtie isn't a simple thing you could lay in for hours, she's very obviously getting horny. Rolling around, stretching and straining that amazing body, thrusting breasts and tied crotch out at me. Making eye contact.

Eight minutes in, I decide to be a tease.

"Having fun?" Climbing up onto the bed, Alicia just on one side of the middle, laid on her side facing me. I stay close to my edge, kneeling with legs apart, arms crossed beneath my F cups. "Are we?"
"Mmggfffff."
"You know." Teasing, smiling down at her. Down, like the boss. "I might just have to cancel my train." Running hands up and around both breasts. "Book the room for another night."
"Gggffffffppp mmffffmmm." Gazing up at me, Alicia begins trying to wriggle closer. Her struggles cause a bubble of drool to burst out from around the gag, running down her chin.

"You want to come closer?"
"Fffggmmmmffffffff."
"Here." Reaching down, using my outdoor work and forever in the gym or running earned strength, grabbing Alicia by the chest and crotch rope, tugging, dragging her across the bed to me, Alicia moaning as the knot down below digs into her clit.

"Mmmgggg fffppppmmmm." I can't see her face anymore, Alicia's head is right beside my naked crotch, now resting on the bed as my legs are spread out, bent at the knee with my feet resting and pointing out behind me. I can't see her head since my jutting breasts are in the way. But I can feel her breath, the occasional tickle of wool, on my shaved to a landing strip pussy.

She's right there, but is too helpless to do anything about it.

"As I was saying." Hands resting on her, purposefully not her breasts or waist. "Prehaps I'll stay here today." Pause, tap lips with a finger. "What do you think?"
"Mmmffffggmmm."
"Well. If I stay." Leaning forwards to peer over my breasts at her, I grin. "Then I could just keep you here with me. All." Blowing her a kiss, making eye contact. "Day."

"You wouldn't mind," running hands over my breasts, down to my crotch, slipping a finger inside myself literally inches away from Alicia's nose, "would you?"
"Mmmmmffgggggg." Body bouncing on the bed, frustration.

And. Brief flash of thought. Is she into this, definitely? Is this level of teasing, above what we discussed, okay?

Or is my sudden left turn into dominance pissing her off?

"Please."
"Are you okay?" Gag pulled out, resting around Alicia's neck, loose but still tied off behind, I'm laying down beside her, slight frown on my face as she swallows, gets her breath back, licks her lips and nods.

"Don't stop." Straining against her ropes, pushing bound E cups closer, a sight hard to ignore. "Don't go."
"But." Shaking my head. "I have to. Sorry."
"But you said...." Nodding. "Right. Teasing."
"Sorry."
"S' okay." Giving me a smile. "Got my hopes up is all."
"Wanted to stay like this all day then did we?" Tugging her chest ropes.

"Fuck no." Laughing. "Hurts like fuck already. But." A shrug, giving me a sultry teasing look, enough to set sparks off in my belly. "I could've always returned the favour."
"It's tempting." It really is, but I can't miss that train. "But. No." Pulling Alicia's gag back on, tightening it, watching her eyes dance as I do. "Playtime, then I need to leave. Okay?"
"Mmmgggfffffmmmm." A single nod, a wriggle of her bound body, making those breasts bounce.

Happy.

I remove most of the ropes, leaving wrists and ankles bound, plus the gag. She's still unable to touch me back, still mostly helpless.

I have my play.

Alicia laid on her back, knotted gag pressing into my clit and pussy as I straddle her face, leaning forwards to access her own with my tongue. Working her over even as she, doing the best she can, returns the favour.

Gag removed, feeding her my F cups, switching a wand vibrator between her crotch and mine. Kissing.

Kissing some more, ropes gone too now. Rolling back and forth, some cross between fucking and wrestling, fighting to be on top, to control the tempo of our combined grinding.

"Will I see you again?" Outside the train station, holding my hands in hers, eye contact, shared smiles despite the goodbye. "Do you think?"
"It's not impossible." Because I'd like to, because we're both models working the same industry. Because, whilst we live too far apart to seriously consider dating there's no reason we couldn't have fun again. "Ever think of crossing the pond?"
"To England?" Frowning, before the smile comes back. "I could be persuaded."

"Well." Leaning in for a kiss, it's time. "If you ever do, I know most of the English bondage site owners. So." A second kiss. "Drop me a line, I'll hook you up."
"Don't you mean tie me up?"
"Well." Brushing hair out of her face, smiling as Alicia has one last grope, brush of her hand, across my chest. "That too."
"Maybe I will." Nodding, and I think she just might.

And besides which there's no reason I couldn't come back this way again. Maybe we could shoot a series. Maybe?

"Stay safe Ali."
"Take care Brooke."

A final, final, kiss, and I'm away. But I've got her number, and she's got mine. Never say never.
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Post by GreyLord »

That was great work you had Plymouth perform on Alicia. I thought this idea of a girl/girl wrestling match sounded good. Maybe you could find a use for that in the future.
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Post by slackywacky »

RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago A final, final, kiss, and I'm away. But I've got her number, and she's got mine. Never say never.
Final, final? Never say never indeed.

Great chapter (again).
Thanks for reading. Feel free to comment.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

A very intense tie. In a way it was like Brooke had come full circle, almost 'mentoring' (in a way) a less experienced version of herself.

Well, perhaps not exactly; I am not sure Alicia is quite as into the complete surrender aspects as Plymouth has been in the past. Parallel, but not adjacent, as it were.

Seems to be a recurring motif of this trip, where Brooke wishes she could stay longer, but has to move on. Can be a good thing in some ways, to leave on a high note, but of course, can be a little frustrating too when it feels as if more could have happened.
RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago
BlissfulMisery wrote: 1 year ago Perhaps, although I do know someone who works night shift as a hotel receptionist, and some of the stories they have shared are certainly interesting... Not quite as interesting as this one, but still pretty out there.
I'd love to hear all about it.
Perhaps not the best place for great detail, and I will admit it has been a while, but to briefly summarize; lots of strange people about at night. Sometimes the homeless (which is a whole other subject, as sadly a lot of them tend to suffer from mental illness or drug problems which tends to lead to some intense interactions), but sometimes it is customers too. People who check in in the middle of the night tend to be a little desperate and at least a little in a hurry, and it can lead to quite heated exchanges if there is a problem (like the hotel being full, or specific payment requirements).

Lots of threats in many cases, although in fairness that is common to all service jobs. Many people (of course not all) tend to not be kind to those they think they have power over, which is a sad, but unsurprising reality.

Plus, of course, the middle of the night is when people tend to try to steal cars from the parking lot...

So while it is a mostly quiet job, there are certainly some intense moments.
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Post by RopeBunny »

[mention]BlissfulMisery[/mention] Thank you for sharing, didn't expect it to be TUGs related, but I was nonetheless interested.

The world certainly changes after the sun goes down, which I imagine makes any night shift interestingly different from its daytime counterpart.
GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago I thought this idea of a girl/girl wrestling match sounded good. Maybe you could find a use for that in the future.
You know I just might :D

Thanks for commenting everyone.
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Post by RopeBunny »

011.

"Didn't you win an award?"
"Didn't you give it to me?"
"Well." Seesawing hand, a shrug. "Not quite. Hey Brooke."
"Morning Fayth."

This is how it all went down. Take my hand, hold on tight, and we'll take a stroll into the past so I can show you some things.

The year was seventy-six. Nineteen, we aren't going that far back. There's a party taking place up in the Los Angeles hills, probably within sight of the famous sign. But this isn't a Hollywood party.

The attendees are, almost exclusively, porn stars, and those others who work alongside them.

At this party, so the tale goes, a dozen of that times biggest producers and studio heads were sat around a table, where, variously drunk as skunks and high as kites, they were trash talking the Oscars, and bemoaning the lack of awards to recognise their own talents.

By the time they all, somehow, drove home, the consensus was 'fuck em, we'll hold our own'.

This idea, far from dying in the cold sober light of the morning after, took off. And the Acadamie Internationale d'art pour Adultes was born.

Making the name French had, again as the tale goes, nothing to do with any sort of national connection. It's Acadamie and not Academy purely to lend it an air of posh. As was already stated the original founders were quite mad at the Oscars, so their creation poked and prodded at it's more famous cousin in several ways, not all of them subtle. Spoiling for a fight.

Acadamie is pretentious. Fake posh.

The judging panel is an even thousand, allocated by official invite on a one out one in basis. New members are chosen randomly from across the adult industry: models, producers and camera crew to name just some. Once selected you'll be asked to step up every year, until you decide to resign your spot. At which point a new judge is selected, and so on.

The judges, judge. Basically. Choosing winners across a whole span of obvious and Oscar like categories.

The statue even looks, a little but not really but, well. Imagine a little gold Oscars man but with fake breasts, and a large cock.

No. Really.

Every year there's a ceremony, which for the last eight has even been streamed online.

My connection to all this?

My first year, eighteen, fresh faced and still a natural C.

I mean, I had my F canons by the time I attended the awards, but, anyway.

My first year, and somehow I managed to win the best newcomer category. A feat no bondage model had ever. Ever. Done.

Fucking. Wow.

Should've seen the size of my grin.

Fayth, a rarity in this industry since she models under her real name: Fayth Hill, happens to be one of those thousand on the Acadamie- just can't say that name without a smile, a shake of the head, honestly -panel.

She's somewhat of a living legend too, within bondage porn, having been getting herself bound and gagged for our viewing pleasure for close to twenty years.

My being here, in America, is largely down to her. A chance meeting when I crossed the pond last, a late booking to plug late notice holes in the model line up for a bondage convention. She'd casually suggested I come back over, do a tour, and had offered to help me out.

So long as I made San Francisco one of my stops of course. Get my cute little inked butt on her site.

So. Here I am.

"How's the tour going?"
"Good." Flash rush of still images through my head: Constance wanking off over hogtied schoolgirl me, Tommy the rich King of Chicago and his crazy livestream, and, more recently, Alicia, looking sexy and fuckable bound on my hotel bed. I grin. "It's fun, yeah."
"Fun?" Raised eyebrow, a smirk as though she can see everything I just saw. "Well." Opening her front door wider, stepping back. "Come in, Brooke. It's good to see you."

Fayth's house, not huge, or super posh. Bondage porn money isn't seven figure movie deal money. But her three bed semi detached is in a nice area up on a hill overlooking the city centre. A three bed, because there used to be her son, now grown up and working in Australia. There used to be a Mr Fayth too. Derek, who I met last time.

Whatever happened, I don't think- from the couple of dropped comments over the phone whilst we organised all this -that the break up was clean. So I don't ask.

"She'll join us tomorrow though."
"She?" Confused by the point, not explained. I frown. "She who?"
"Sue." Walking ahead of me up the stairs, Fayth stops, turns, smiles at my expression. "She'll be here to work the camera."
"Oh." Nodding. "Right."
"Good rigger too." Starting back up the stairs, nodding to herself. "For, well."
"Never hurts to have a spare rigger."
"Exactly."

"This is you." Waving through the open door, peering in I see a freshly made wooden double bed, wooden chest of drawers beside it, large window, curtains thrown back, sunlight pouring in. "Bathroom." Another wave. "Only one upstairs though, so." A shrug. "We'll be sharing okay?"
"Okay." Nodding. "Thanks again for putting me up."
"No bother." Stepping back to let me through, leaning against the doorframe after as I lift my suitcase up onto the bed. "S' nice to have company sometimes."

"Get yourself stowed away then come down. We'll go out."
"Okay." Nodding. "Give me ten minutes."
"Ten." From halfway towards the stairs, walking away. I turn my attention back to my stuff, putting clothes and various ropes into drawers. Might as well unpack properly since I'll be here several days.

Three shoots is the plan, but with time and space around those to relax, and explore.

Which we spend the rest of the day doing.

We're, almost, dressed the same. Jeans, though mine are skinny fit and black compared to Fayth's baggy faded blue. Converse high tops for her and Adidas runners for me. Both her white tee and my grey vest top appear to be a tight fit, hugging our breasts. And, though our black leather biker jackets look the same from a distance, Fayth's is more a fashion thing, thinner material, whilst mine is the real deal, complete with a real gang patch on the back.

Because, thanks to an ex, I happen to be a member of the Three Kings.

Effort made, looking good, we both attract a fair amount of attention out wandering the city streets.

Fayth is late forties, close to double my age, but you'd have a hard time telling it. Her size twelve frame is no less toned then my eight, and topped by rounded enhanced D cups that sit high and pert. She's a natural blonde, curling long hair like mine tumbles down over the shoulders.

We spend all day out, but don't actually, really, go anywhere. We wander, in and out of shops, stopping for coffee, stopping for lunch. We ride the tram up and down the hill, we take time, at the top, to look out over the city, the famous red span of the Golden Gate arching across the bay.

It's all quite relaxing. Walking. Talking. Laughing. We exchange stories of shoots we've done, little comedy mishaps that the paying audience never get to see.

She seems especially amused by my inability to behave normally in any hotel.

As day rolls over into evening we find a bar within walking distance of Fayth's house and set about getting drunk, politely but firmly refusing all offers of company. Male or female. We stay at the bar, sat side by side on high stools down one end, matching each other shot for shot and pint for pint.

Drunk enough that Fayth walks straight past her house, backtracks, then does so again because this second time I'm unintentionally distracting her. Pointing out a particularly interesting tree in the garden three doors further along.

Some drunks get angry, shouting, flinging fists in all directions, some get sad. Me, I'm, almost always, a happy drunk.

And a horny drunk.

Drinking helps most people shed their inhibitions, helps a shy guy kiss a pretty girl, helps that shy girl to strip off as they climb into bed together sometime later. I don't really have any though, inhibitions, I'm not shy.

But right now I am horny.

And there's a vibrator in one of the drawers, plus a gag, a little rope.

Okay, a lot of rope.

But really I only need the vibrator. The question is, pondering as I lay naked in bed, can I sort myself out discreetly, quietly.

Because I have a tendency to be quite vocal when I dive down into an orgasm.

So. Can I....

I....

?

What. The. Fuck.

Through the thin, I guess they must be for it to travel so well, wall. The distinct low buzzing sound of a vibrator, hard at work.

Followed not long after by the sound of Fayth, moaning, panting, slowly becoming louder as she climbs that peak, heading for the summit and her own dive back down.

Mouth open in shock I lay still, frozen, listening.

Does she know I can hear her? Has she forgotten I'm even here?

Should I. No. But, maybe. But, no. No. But.

Does she want any help?

Thinking which. Too slow Brooke. With a cry Fayth plunges, happiness reached.

Five minutes later she's snoring.

I'm not sure why I go to her room. Without conscious thought I find myself, still naked, suddenly opening- quietly -Fayth's bedroom door.

The dim glow from an open laptop, on the bed currently facing away from me, barely lights the room. But it's enough for me to see the important details.

"Fuuuuuuuck." Whispered, after which I have a small giggle. Hurriedly clamping a hand over my mouth and glancing guiltily at the bed.

Where Fayth sleeps on.

She's, mostly, under the covers, though I can see one breast, the shadowed bud of a nipple and the arm on that side thrown out towards the laptop.

No sign of the vibrator. Probably under the covers still.

What I can see is a collar, a simple wide dark leather band buckled around Fayth's neck, the single silver ring on the front glinting at me, almost winking like a secret shared. A long sliver dog lead style chain links Fayth's collar to a top corner bedpost, there's plenty of slack on the chain, so, in my opinion she's in no danger of accidentally strangling herself.

And, again without clearly realising I was going to, I'm suddenly beside her bed, turning the laptop to face me.

Gasping.

Falling back onto my butt.

Fayth was, no prizes for guessing, watching porn. But.

And it's one big fucking detail here.

She was watching me.

Me. Bound. Gagged. Struggling.

She stirs, shifting on the bed. Scaring me into action. I bolt, racing silently out of the room, back to my own.

Where, of course, sleep doesn't come for hours.
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Post by GreyLord »

Great, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. This was a wonderful setup for things to come that I am sure will be amazing. Faith is cool.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Yep, Faith is very cool - and I guess Faith and Plymouth will have lots of fun :)
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Post by RopeBunny »

GreyLord wrote: 1 year ago Faith is cool.
Caesar73 wrote: 1 year ago Yep, Faith is very cool
I think so too 8-) :D thanks.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

A little awkward.

But based on Plymouth's predilection towards hooking up with most of the people she meets during shoots (well, the desire is often there, even if not the time), and the amount of time that seems to be allotted for this stop, I suspect this will turn out much the same way.

Wonder if it was really an 'accident' on Fayth's part... On one hand, it is unlikely she would be afraid to ask outright, on the other, perhaps she did not wish to put Brooke on the spot as it were.
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Post by RopeBunny »

BlissfulMisery wrote: 1 year ago based on Plymouth's predilection towards hooking up with most of the people she meets during shoots
Have thought about bringing this point up myself a couple of times, so.

Thing is, this being a TUGs story site, I tend to fill mine with as many TUGs as possible, which has a tendency to mess with reality.

Granted I don't know everything about the porn business but I somehow doubt all the models are fucking (and tying up in the case of bondage porn) each other off camera every chance they get.

However it makes the story better, twice the TUGs you could say, if Brooke gets to play with all the girls Plymouth has already enjoyed.

Plus it's fun to write :D and I hope to read.

Thanks for commenting.
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Post by RopeBunny »

012.

"Morning."
"Hey Brooke."

Do I say anything? Don't I?

Do?

Don't?

Rather comically we're both wearing sunglasses, I've no doubt Fayth's suffering at least as much, since the curtains are still drawn, since neither of us are having anything except water and orange juice for breakfast.

And coffee.

Do I?

Don't I?

What would I say? How do you even have that 'hey I saw you were wanking off over my video last night' conversation? And what if.

"You okay Brooke?"
"What? Oh." Pulling myself back to this reality, back to Fayth's kitchen, her friendly smile across the table. "Yes." Smiling back. "I'm-" saw you know you were wanking off over me why and what the fuck and why and fuck me wow and "-fine."
"Great." Clinking her mug against mine, standing. "Sue will be here in a couple of hours."
"Right." Giving a thumbs up. "I'll be ready."

She isn't wearing it, the collar, this morning. Of course.

But it did happen. I wasn't that drunk, I saw what I saw.

It's Fayth's house though. Having a shower, thinking, pondering. I'm a guest under her roof.

I decide not to bring it up.

"What are you going to wear?"
"Well...." Looking up, surprised, to find Fayth walking into my room, having opened my closed door.

Closed, because I'm naked.

"I...." Looking down at myself, back at her. It isn't that being naked in front of someone is an issue, doing porn you quickly stop caring who sees your bits. It's last night, my still not understanding what it means, and now Fayth's here. And I'm naked.

Is she here because I'm naked?

Fayth meets my gaze, smiles, walks across the room to my bed, glancing down at the half dozen outfits strewn across it, back up at me.

She isn't naked, a baggy black tee and red drawstring jogging trousers cover up all her modesty.

"How about that one," pointing, "the blue and black cami set?"
"Yeah?"
"I reckon." Fayth nods. "It'll go well with." Making a rather obvious gesture. "You know."
"It will." Laughing, feeling a fair amount of my built up inner tension leak away as I do.

It's stupid, worrying over shit when I'm here to have fun. Let it go B, if she wants you, she'll come find you. Otherwise it was. Fuck knows.

Besides, I don't even know, haven't put any thought, into whether I'd want her.

"What about you?" Picking all the other outfits up, tossing everything into the same drawer. Turning back around I gesture at Fayth. "Going for that casual look huh?"
"Ha." Shaking her head. "I figured, maybe." A shrug. "Just a robe?"
"Just a robe?"
"Well." Smiling. "Covered, but not. Easy access."

We both laugh again.

"That'll look good." I nod. "A short robe though."
"Course." Nodding back. "You happy with the shoot, the plan?"
"Sure. I'm-" going to fuck you for real is that weird it feels odd fuck you tie you up but you watched me tied should it be me tied you fucking me but not yet that's later that's "-happy."
"Great." Turning to leave, Fayth gives me an over the head wave as she closes my door.

I get ready.

Head upstairs to the third bedroom, up in the roofspace.

"Nice cock Brooke."
"Why thank you." Grinning, doing a twirl, flicking the tip of my thick black strap on to make it bounce.

Underneath my fake cock is a black thong, which you can't see due to the wide leather straps around the waist and between my legs. The top is skintight, a blue lace like mesh hugging my belly, rising to black mesh cups for each breast and thin black straps over the shoulders.

Black mesh suspenders are held up by the thin belt around my waist, and knee high heeled boots add several inches to my height.

Fayth, not a single bit of ink on her, is as agreed wearing only a robe. Red silk, with a yellow and green Chinese dragon climbing up the back. The robe is short, barely covering her butt, and is only loosely belted closed over nothing else but skin.

"Can you even tie me up wearing that?" Smirking as I collect rope from a pile on the table. "Hmmm?"
"I'll manage." Winking, teasing, slipping into Plymouth, into the zone. "Just don't be afraid to give it a lick when I accidentally slap you in the face."
"Honestly." Tutting, but grinning, in the zone too, both of us ramping up for the game, for the imminent tie up.

"Sure you don't want to shoot this too?" Sue, sat at the table, laptop open, camera and lights already set up, but off. She's thirty something, skinny and flat chested with a cropped haircut, longer on top and brushed to one side. Almost a man's cut. But it suits her.

So far she seems easy going, happy, treating the cameras, the whole thing, with a professional attitude.

"Nah." Fayth shakes her head. "These three we're just shooting the after."
"Okay." Nodding. "You're the boss."
"Well." Grinning, flicking my cock. "Actually I think right now, I'm the boss."
"Shut up and tie me up already." Rolling her eyes at my bad pun whilst Sue laughs briefly behind me.

I grin, tip Fayth a cheeky salute, get to work.

Nothing too restrictive, she needs to be mobile, to a degree.

"I." Kneeling behind Fayth, kneeling on the bed, I lean forwards to talk over her shoulder, rope already loosely looped around her offered wrists. "Tend to tie on the tight side. Okay?"
"Fine by me." Nodding, half turning her head to flash me a smile. "But thanks for the warning."

Sudden flash of inspiration, I give her an opening. Because why not.

"I prefer to be tied on the tighter side too."
"Yeah?" Turning again to half face me over her shoulder, and, I honestly don't see any flash of what she did last night in her eyes. No hint that, less then twelve hours ago she was enjoying watching me in one of those super tight sessions I'm known to love.

Is she shy?

She wouldn't know I saw, so, prehaps whatever this is, she just doesn't want to share the why of it.

Fair enough.

"I do." Smiling. "Anyway." Very obviously tugging the loop around her wrists tight. "On with the show."

After her wrists, bound side by side with doubled over rope, finished off by loops between her pinned limbs, I do a chest harness. Rope above and below, over the shoulder to plunge between Fayth's D cups, then back up the other side. I do this from my spot behind her, leaning forward to see in front, reaching around, trying to keep it professional as I adjust her robe around my ropes, keeping Fayth's breasts covered.

And she doesn't flinch, doesn't sigh or moan when I do brush her chest. There's no indication she's overly into me.

With an internal shrug I move on.

Binding each leg into a frog like tie, upper thighs joined to ankles, forcing Fayth's legs to remain bent double, and separate.

"Are we gagging?" Forgetting, climbing off the bed, looking from Sue to Fayth.

"We're...." Sue, frowning, looking at the notebook she's been scribbling in on and off. "Not?"
"We're not." Fayth shakes her head, giving her bound body a quick wriggle whilst remaining kneeling, not falling over. "Good ropes Plymouth."
"Thanks." I know I'm grinning, but, as experienced as Fayth is any compliment means something.

"Gag me after."
"After?" After the shoot? Keep you tied up and then gag you after Sue leaves?

"After you're done." Giving my confusion a smile. "Gag me so I can struggle some to end the video okay?"
"Oh." Silly Brooke. "Right. Sure."

Walking away from the bed, out of the shot, I give myself a small shake. Got to stop letting last night slip into my thoughts, let it go.

"Ready Fayth?"
"I am." Kneeling still, centre of the bed, head bowed. Waiting.

"Plymouth?"
"All good." Giving Sue a thumbs up, doing a couple of small bounces on my toes, catching Fayth's grin as my cock competes with my F cups. I grin back, flip her off. She blows me a kiss.

"And." Tapping away, flicking switches, with an audible click powerful lamps overhead come on. Sue looks at me, nods. "We're on."

I give Fayth a minute, time to do a couple of small wriggles, time to look up, left, right. Time to moan softly.

Then in I come.

"Well." There's no set dialogue, no script, but Fayth wanted us to talk, wanted something, so she asked me to make up and say whatever felt right. To take the lead, and she'd play along.

Crap. Improvising lines for a shoot isn't a skill I've had to learn yet. So I figured I'd just be me in a teasing semi take charge mood, and hope for the best.

"What have we got here?" Having arrived in front of Fayth I wander around the bed, looking her over, nodding approval. "Are you for me?"
"Yes." Rolling with it, slipping into submission as opposed anger at being bound.

She's going to come- ha -willingly.

"Come here." Back in front of her, aware, behind me, of Sue changing angles for the best shot of us both. Doing her job. I point at the edge of the bed where I'm stood.

Genuinely smirk with pleasure watching Fayth shuffle and wriggle herself over to me, not able to stand, unwilling to topple over and crawl on her belly.

I wait for her with crossed arms.

"Lick it." Not moving, arms still crossed, injecting a small amount of command into my voice. I glance down, watching Fayth lick her lips, swallow, pausing a moment before bending forwards to run her tongue down the length of my thick black cock.

"Keep going." Still being a statue. Fayth obeys, licking my shaft, teasing it, kissing the tip.

Taking the length slowly, carefully, into her mouth.

Gagging as I grasp hold of her head by the hair, pinning her in place, the whole thick cock deep inside her throat.

I count silently, then pull her off, but not completely. And I don't let go. After a moment, which looks short, but, I'm paying attention, making sure Fayth's got her breath back, is okay.

Enough so that I can force her to swallow my length again.

And back out.

And in.

And out.

In.

Out.

For a couple of minutes I facefuck her, varying my tempo, sometimes forcing the whole cock down her throat, sometimes only half. Fayth gags, she moans, she pants and splutters. She covers her jaw and breasts in drool.

Breasts that I reach in to tease one handed, always keeping a firm grasp on her head as I grope and knead her D cups.

With no warning, pulling her off me, I keep pulling, then push.

With a cry of alarm Fayth topples over backwards onto the bed, still panting and breathing hard.

Grinning, I advance, climbing onto the bed after her, pushing Fayth's legs apart and sliding my very wet, very lubed, cock, straight up inside her pussy.

I fuck her. Varying my speed, sometimes stopping all together, holding the cock inside, or, once, with Sue leaning in real close, I hold just the tip against Fayth's pussy lips, letting Sue capture a half dozen close up strokes as I slide the length in then out.

I. Think I talk? I get kinda lost in the moment, in the fucking. But I think I say things, that Fayth responds. Some kind of taking charge teasing.

Thinking back, after, I recall Fayth panting 'yes' several times, along with a 'please' or two.

Sliding out, staying out, I manoeuvre myself around so my face is down by Fayth's pussy, my cock bobbing and hovering by her mouth as I lean in, getting to work.

Keeping at it until she reaches orgasm, body shaking, shouting. "Fuck fuck fuck yes yes fuck." Louder and louder.

Shouting in between taking my cock of course, because, getting carried along in the moment I've begun force feeding it to her again.

"Well." Back on the bed having wandered out of shot to retrieve a ballgag, kneeling next to Fayth's head as she lays on her side, my cock inches from her lips. "Was that good?"
"Yes." Nodding, bobbing her head forwards to kiss the tip. "Thank you."
"I think I'll leave you here," looking thoughtful, nodding, "for. Um. Later. In case I get horny and need someone to fuck."

"You don't mind," reaching down, grabbing her hair, angling Fayth's head so she's looking up at me, "do you?"
"No." Voice still quiet, as it has been the whole shoot. Submissive. "I'll stay."
"Yes." Letting go, nodding. "You will."

Leaning in I strap on the ballgag, and pull open Fayth's robe, exposing her breasts. Which I kiss and fondle for a moment, making her moan and squirm.

"See you tonight sexy." Blowing a kiss, turning, walking out of shot.

Leaving Fayth to struggle and wriggle around on the bed, all exposed now, looking quite the post fuck mess as Sue gets the rest of her footage, covering the angles.

Stepping back, giving me a nod. "Okay Plymouth, we're done."

Done. Time to untie Fayth, to go and change whilst Sue packs up her gear, then we're having a barbecue out the back, watching some sport or other that Fayth follows.

And tomorrow we can do some more exploring, since the next shoot isn't for two days.
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Post by Caesar73 »

Love the interaction between Brooke and Faith - I could name my sequences, but I go with the entry this time: Faith and Brook nursing their hang over :)
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Post by boundfunrp »

Lovely story.
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Post by BlissfulMisery »

RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago
Have thought about bringing this point up myself a couple of times, so.

Thing is, this being a TUGs story site, I tend to fill mine with as many TUGs as possible, which has a tendency to mess with reality.
I understand the dilemma you outline (and assumed this was a major reason for writing it this way), and I did not mean the comment as a criticism; as much as it might be ideal to keep things fully realistic, that is a bit of a problem given the genre demand of a never ending stream of tie ups. Which, let us be honest, very rarely happens in real life for all sorts of both involved and mundane reasons, as much as it might be desired.
RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago Granted I don't know everything about the porn business but I somehow doubt all the models are fucking (and tying up in the case of bondage porn) each other off camera every chance they get.
Admittedly purely speculation on my part, but would also suspect that to be the case. In such a job it would likely be important to try to separate work from personal life, otherwise I struggle to see how one would navigate the psychological aspects (well that sounds far more clinical then I intended).

It is convenient in story writing, especially as it allows the reuse of established characters, which both lets readers relate more, and saves both the writer and readers from having to juggle an ever growing cast.


But as for the actual chapter:

Great tension between the two; lots of wondering by Brooke, expertly leveraging the viewpoint the story takes (where we only see her thoughts).

Is Fayth just acting for the camera, or is it real? Hard to tell. Perhaps even Fayth herself does not entirely know, as these are complex and difficult emotions to process in the best of times. Throw in a dominant/submissive dynamic, even if a temporary one, mixed with people who respond deeply to such, and well... Quite the tangled knot to try to unravel. Especially as Plymouth does a great job 'selling' it, taking command of the scene.

Lots of lines with possible double meaning as Brooke tries to subtly communicate her intentions, this one especially standing out:
RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago "See you tonight sexy."
All in all, well written as usual.
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Post by RopeBunny »

BlissfulMisery wrote: 1 year ago
I did not mean the comment as a criticism
Wasn't taken as one :D don't worry. Your comment gave me the push, a chance to explain this aspect.
BlissfulMisery wrote: 1 year ago
RopeBunny wrote: 1 year ago Granted I don't know everything about the porn business but I somehow doubt all the models are fucking (and tying up in the case of bondage porn) each other off camera every chance they get.
Admittedly purely speculation on my part, but would also suspect that to be the case. In such a job it would likely be important to try to separate work from personal life, otherwise I struggle to see how one would navigate the psychological aspects (well that sounds far more clinical then I intended).
Well written explanation of my point there, thank you. I'm sure as with Plymouth some adult workers genuinely enjoy the work, for a percentage it's surely more then just a paycheck. As with any job there are always those in it for the money, and those with a real love of what they do.

However as you said separation is necessary, for mental well being if nothing else. Not always healthy to take your work home.
boundfunrp wrote: 1 year ago Lovely story.
Thank you :D
Caesar73 wrote: 1 year ago Love the interaction between Brooke and Faith
It's a funny thing, as much as I love writing all the TUGs, the struggles and tight ties ;) :D I enjoy writing the back and forth between characters too.

Thanks everyone.
GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

Good job, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]. You captured Brooke's uncertainties very well. And, I at least, am left wondering what is going on in Faith's mind.
ImageA 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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RopeBunny
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Post by RopeBunny »

013.

Alcatraz. Even the name sounds cool, imposing.

I couldn't come all this way and not see. However, Fayth didn't purchase tour tickets purely so we could look around.

"Quick."
"I'm." Tossing my scarf at Fayth, laughing as she fumbles the catch. "Trying."
"Shhhh." Laughing too even as she puts finger to lips, bending to grab the scarf whilst I quickly slot the no longer concealed ballgag into my mouth, dig the cuffs from my jeans back pocket.

Locking my wrists behind me.

Ready.

We've deliberately loitered near the back of the tour, have purposefully hung back once or twice to the point they've all disappeared around the next corner. Making sure we won't immediately be missed.

And now we've reached the cells.

Too good, according to Fayth, a chance to miss. Who wouldn't want to purchase a photoset of Plymouth cuffed up inside an actual cell on infamous Alcatraz island.

So having waited, nerves and excitement building as the tour guide spoke at length about the cell, the history, naming names and dates. Once the group began to move on we sprang into action.

Tossing my leather jacket to Fayth, revealing the super skimpy top I'm wearing alongside white skinny fit jeans and black army boots. The top is sky blue, thin shoulder straps and barely enough material to cover my breasts, it hangs off my chest, showing a mass of skin if you look underneath plus all my cleavage up top.

Skimpy. Teasing. Perfect for a shoot.

Underneath a wool scarf I'd concealed a ballgag, loosely buckled around my neck, an easy task to fit in place and tighten. Added to which the police style metal cuffs in my back pocket, simple and quick to lock in place, wrists pinned behind me.

Making me a prisoner.

Fayth works fast, camera already out. She clicks and clicks, not bothering to check if I'm ready, taking prehaps five hundred plus photos in around two minutes all whilst I move from pose to pose to pose, whilst she moves around the room orbiting me.

Doing my best to run through everything that could look good at speed before we're discovered.

Laid on the narrow metal framed thin mattress topped bed, on my side, on my back, on my belly.

Standing, in various spots and poses.

Kneeling.

Quickly, Fayth uncuffing me, locking my wrists in front, running through as many poses as we dare before, hearing someone. Footsteps.

A noise of some sort.

We quickly work to get me looking semi decent again: cuffs tossed in Fayth's bag alongside her camera, ballgag pulled down, scarf wrapped around my neck and jacket shrugged on, zipped halfway up in an effort to concealed my complete lack of appropriate above the waist clothing.

The tour guide, finally now coming back to see where his missing two have wandered off too, giving us both a half amused half confused smile as we stumble out of the cell, laughing.

That evening there's an up and coming DJ playing one of the bigger clubs, so we slip into figure hugging small dresses, black for me, pale blue and white flower patterned for Fayth, I lace up my knee high boots, Fayth puts on a pair of heels, and out we go.

The set is amazing. Deafening, bass you can feel in your bones. We drink, we dance.

We stumble out of the taxi not too many hours before the sun is due to rise, giggle our drunken way upstairs. Go to sleep.

Or.

At least I'm almost asleep.

When the noise wakes me.

It's the same as last time, a vibrators steady buzzing drone, soon overtaken and drowned out by Fayth, moaning, voice rising to a scream.

This time accompanied by the bouncing twang of mattress springs that make it sound as though she's got someone in there with her, pounding her up and down, except I know we came home alone.

I'd like to be in there with her.

The thought propels me up off the bed, across the room and, naked, down the short corridor to Fayth's closed door.

Which I reach just as she screams out her orgasm.

Silence follows, the sudden quiet, through which I can now hear a quieter moaning, freezes me to the spot, suddenly unsure.

Like last time Fayth soon begins to snore.

And, it's the tingle deep down in my crotch, the baseline arousal of what I just, for the second time, heard, that gets me moving again.

I open the door.

Once again finding a darkened room, the only source of light coming from a laptop, on the bed, angled away from me but towards Fayth.

Who.

"Wooooow." Whispered, hand straying down to my crotch, finger rubbing and tracing the line of my pussy lips, taking it all in.

The chains must be pre-measured. Each of Fayth's limbs is locked, by small padlock, into a black leather cuff. Three of her limbs: both ankles and the wrist not closest her laptop, are sealed by additional padlocks to short tight lengths of chain that stretch off to the beds corner posts. The chains are all short to the point her limbs are flat on the bed, looking quite lacking in free movement.

In her free hand is a wand vibrator, now off. Silent.

And, moving closer, padding silently across the room, on the laptop, nearing its end, another bondage video.

Of me.

Tied up. Gagged. Naked and struggling for the camera.

Why did she tie herself up, to watch me tied up?

If. Frowning, trying to kick my drunken thoughts into some kind of process. If she wants me tied up, why tie herself up?

Why.

When.

"I'm right here." Whispered, but leaning in close to Fayth, fighting and losing against the overriding urge to touch her, to kiss her, to fuck her.

She tastes, her lips, like spirits mixed with fruit. Sweet. Fayth snores on, oblivious as I gently plant a light kiss on her lips.

Nor does she wake when I touch her breast, running a long fingernail across her nipple.

She is, too far gone, too drunk, too wasted.

But I'm awake. And horny.

In semi frustration, wanting, needing, to do something. I gag her. Finding a scarf which I knot, ease into her half open mouth, leaning in- my breasts brushing hers -to tie off behind her head.

And still she snores on.

Climbing off the bed, unwilling to leave, hoping but knowing she won't but hoping anyway, that she'll wake up, see me, smile around that gag and want to trade places. Unwilling to leave I sit down on a small fabric armchair beside the bed, spread my legs wide, begin to tease myself.

And wake up with daylight streaming in through the closed curtains, one hand still resting on my pussy.

Fayth still tied, still gagged, still snoring.

Panicking, in the cold sober light of day I can suddenly see a whole army of reasons to not be discovered naked beside her, I quietly flee back to my room.

Only realising once I'm safely tucked up in my own bed that I left her gag on.

Shit. Will she know, remember, that of everything she wakes up to the gag wasn't self inflicted?

And I can't sleep, can't get back to sleep despite the comfortable bed I could wrap myself up in. I can't sleep because my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and images: thoughts of what and why, images of the reality I've witnessed shot through with fantasy.

"Morning." Breezing into the kitchen, her cheery voice jolting me- slumped and slumbering at the table, cold cup of coffee in hand -awake. I blink, sit up and throw on a smile to match Fayth's.

Waiting to see how this will all play out.

"Afternoon." Managing to sound normal, to somehow not immediately take her to task over what the fuck she's doing wanking off over me.

Well. Not over, I mean, I wouldn't mind, and.

Um.

Stop it Brooke.

"Oh. Right." Fayth laughs, turning to face me, leaning back against the counter beside the coffee machine. "Guess I slept in huh. Sorry Brooke."
"It's fine." Waving the comment away. "I," a shrug, a half truth, "couldn't sleep."
"No?"
"I'm used to early starts. At work."
"Your 'other' job?"
"Yes." Shaking my head at her air quotes. "The one where I don't get to play."
"Nobody at the plant house wants to tie you up?"

"Ha." Laughing at her faked upset on my behalf, the back and forth teasing and playing. Not flirting, I'm not- despite what I know she's done now, twice -getting any sexual vibes off Fayth.

I'm confused.

But, I like Fayth, like this easy going thing we seem to be developing, something like the start of a friendship. Definitely not something worth ruining by coming right out and asking 'what the fuck' or offering to go upstairs so she can tie the real me up instead of settling for a video copy.

I'll hold my tongue, wait, watch. I'll see whether she comes to me. Eventually. At all.

There's still a chance she doesn't know I've seen her, a chance too that she simply doesn't want to share this aspect.

Can't promise not to act if I catch her at it again, but. I guess we'll cross that line when, if, Fayth has another late night bondage and me session.

"So what's today's plan?"
"Not much of today left."
"No." I shrug. "We should go out though for a blow."
"A." Raised eyebrow, a corner of the mouth smirk. "Blow? Brooke?"
"Pull it out of the gutter." Tossing a pencil, the only thing on the table that isn't my coffee cup, at her. Fayth laughs, dodges and throws out a block. But, somehow, my aim is better and I score a direct hit.

On her baggy tee clad breast.

"Oops." Laughing too, managing to knock the pencil out of the air as Fayth picks it up, returns fire. "A walk." Standing, stretching. "Let's go for fresh air. Um." Sudden thought. "Let's buy fresh meat and stuff. Cook up a pasta or something."
"Okay." Nodding whilst opening and closing cupboards. "Just let me change."

We're neither of us in the mood to dress up, though I guess my black jeans do look smarter then Fayth's drawstring joggers. She lends me a pull on hoodie, and we both giggle at the choice to be naked underneath.

We walk around a local park, water bottles in hand, sunglasses on, Fayth asking me about various plants and trees, apparently not teasing, genuinely interested.

At the shops we buy fresh mince, pasta, fresh vegetables and a baguette which Fayth swears she knows how to make into garlic bread.

Back at hers we share the cooking, playing vinyl on an impressive looking set-up, some rather large speakers. We take turns choosing records, alternating and skipping from modern dance to musicals to Buddy Holly to Black Sabbath.

We share a bottle of wine with dinner, then break out a deck of cards, teaching each other random simple games we each know.

Fayth tries, fails, to teach me chess. Only failing in fairness due to my insistence on every piece making a unique noise as it charges. Plus I spend close to fifteen minutes, her humouring and smiling at me as I do, arguing that the pawns ought to be able to move two at a time so they can hold each others hands, to be less scared.

We have fun. Then hug each other goodnight.
GreyLord
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Post by GreyLord »

Lots of fun, but they are holding back on the real fun. Is it time to get this show on the road, [mention]RopeBunny[/mention]?
ImageA 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
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Post by tickletied84 »

Great update, combining the opportunistic photos at Alcatraz, with some (supposed) secretive bondage and now some good old fashioned insecurities between Brooke and Fayth about their feelings for each other! Keep up the great story writing!
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