The Rope Bunny and the Dominatrix (F/F)

[AlexUSA3]

The Rope Bunny and the Dominatrix (F/F)

My little flip phone starts ringing. Taking it out of my pocket, I answer the phone without even looking to see who is calling. I am out delivering packages at the moment, and I fall prey to too many scams in this way because then the scammers know they have dialed a real number. I am glad, though, to hear a familiar voice.

“Hi, Mary-Ann!” I hear the cheerful voice of Jenny Kristensen.
“Hello! What’s up?” I ask her, “I’ve got two more stops on my route and pick-ups.”
“I just wanted to make sure our play date was still on,” the happy voice responded.
“Oh, yes it is and do I ever have the surprise for you!” I respond with glee and hang up on her.

I love doing this to people because they cannot text me. I can just end the conversation without letting them get a single word in edgewise. Since they can’t text me, they can’t send their words to me. I can ignore voicemail. I do this to three of my friends, including Jenny, and it makes all of them stir up like a wildcat.

I look like a plain, simple girl on the outside. I don’t have tattoos or piercings; I don’t even have an earlobe piercing. I’m just your local UPS girl on the big old white box truck. I even look like a stereotypical Roman Catholic girl: I always wear a crucifix around my neck except when I am in water. I live with my roommate and best friend, Kendra, and except for a couple occasions of temptation I have never slept with my boyfriend.

I am truly a wildcat though. I might be a package delivery driver, but in my spare time I have yet another job: bondage model. You can find me tied up as a girl next door, a hot secretary, or a girl with her body crushed in ropes while a maniacal dominatrix uses a strap-on to abuse her. Even if I seem adventurous, I have limits. However you can also find me as the dominatrix, and I love to dominate those who fight me the most in different ways than I enjoy being dominated. “Hostess of Horrors” my friends from my days in youth prison use as a term of endearment after suffering enough at my hands during the little “TUG Parties” I hold in my home.

It’s all an elaborate trap for my friend Jenny, who is home for the summer after her junior year of college. I invited her over to try on some clothes that her cousin, Kendra, no longer wants. They could be of use for moments where the clothes will be thrown away afterwards, though, such as a “Tough Mudder” that I know she wants to do with me and Kendra this summer. Mixed into the pile is a catsuit that is just Jenny’s size and that a local studio no longer needs since it’s shutting down that arm since their basement was lost in a flood.

I pulled into the driveway of the little rented home just as Jenny was pulling up as well. Unlike me, Jenny had eaten, but I was having catsuit vixen for supper! Best was that I had a dependable poker face and could hide my emotions perfectly well. She had no idea that I was planning what devious traps lay before her. She knew to trust me as far as she could throw me, but Jenny was too innocent to follow her own advice when it came to me, one of her friends. For a girl who has the nickname “Gangsta Princess,” she’s really the “Princess of Wearing Bandanas” or “Princess of Rope Bunnies” or “Princess of TUG Chumps.” She is typing this for me while I dictate it to her because I do not own a computer, and she is playfully hitting me. My own little secretary.

“How dare you hang up on me!” the little girl squeaks as she runs up to me.
“Hang up? On you?” I am such a faker, “I was driving. You know how it is.”
“Oh, you are just trying to get me going, aren’t you?!” she playfully stomps the ground.
“Let’s go in; your cousin is getting married this month,” I grab her arm, “Enjoy her while she’s single.”
“Let go of me,” she pushes, but my grip is too strong.
“You weren’t moving,” I shove her into the little house.

Kendra is passed out on the sofa after a double shift and, based on the mess left on the table, Burger King. She's every bit as adorable as her cousin after a multi-faceted and very personal struggle that she and I fought together. The two look so much alike, and it is hard to believe that Jenny is the bigger of the two. We pause and stare at Sleeping Beauty knowing she will eventually hear us and come into my room to see what kinds of trouble I’m causing this time.

My room is wild thanks to the suspension frame I had in there. It was originally made for heavy lifting, and I reinforced it myself. No one taught me how. I just figure this stuff out on my own by walking around my local Ace Hardware or Menards. It comes apart if necessary, and it's really strong. I once suspended two girls at once using it; it is going to get used within the hour.

“How about these?” I toss a pair of shorts to her.
“All right,” she takes off her shorts, sneakers, and socks and puts Kendra’s on.
“Hmm… not you.”
“I'm in no need of anything,” she ditches that pair, “Got anything I can use for TUGs or maybe some shirts?”
“Why don't you like purple or blue ?” I ask her.
“I just don't,” she hid her colorblindness from almost everyone for 6 more months.

I forgot to tell you anything about us. I’m a big girl… like 5”7… and a half maybe? My hair is crazier than I am with tons of curls and a really dark color. Nothing keeps my hair under control; hair clips, barrettes, bandanas, scrunchies all fail to prevent it from being a big poof. After 6 years in juvie, don't mess with me cause I can break your teeth with my non-dominant hand. My friends call me “the French girl with the big floppy titties” because my boobs kind of just fall out when I get exposed. I like them.

Jenny's a tiny thing, almost a head under me, and so well toned that it's unbelievable. I have leg envy for real, but Jenny’s a scholarship runner. The blonde hair is always held back by a bandana, and today it's her pink paisley one that she is wearing in the triangular style with the fabric knotted under her hair. Whatever they call that style is what it is. Kerchief? Thank you, Jenny. See? My personal secretary. Anyway, she's a homely little worm, and… she's hitting me again! Seriously, she's a cute “Gangsta Princess” and truly defines the genuine qualities of love, friendship, and TUGs that are the mission of the so-called “Cool Girls’ Club” in which I was lovingly accepted two years before this. Oh, by the way, her boobs aren't floppy but are firm and fun to grab.

“How about these?” I toss the black catsuit to her.
“Is it a onesie?” she innocently asks.
“Yeah! Try it on!” I open a draw and grab a piece of white rope.
“OK,” she eagerly jumps into the catsuit and zips it up, “Are you sure they're PJs?”
“They're not,” I study her curves, “It's a sexy catsuit, and I’m tying you up!”
“Mary-Ann! You sneaky double-crosser!” she squeaks and backs into the corner.

She cannot stop me. Ho ho, I am much stronger than her and crush her elbows behind her back. She complains without a break for air, but that doesn't deter me. I am a girl on a mission, and the fire in her eyes is the fire of the genuine love of submission. My friend will never admit that she is a bondage addict as she thinks of bondage in terms of ball gags, vibrators, and sex and believes it's all cute and innocent so long as items a kid could buy at Wal-Mart or Ace are being used. Sorry, Jenny, but you are a kinky, kinky girl: sock gags, breathplay, CNC play, cinch straps, rigid cuffs, ratchet straps. If I can go to a store and buy it, she would let someone tie her up with it.

While I put on my own orange catsuit, because no one can command a situation like a girl who is in a catsuit, and no color is better for a girl who spent the better part of six years in juvenile hall, my captive grunts and complains. I am not carried away yet; I’m still just having fun doing what I do best. I got all my catsuits as seconds because yes I have several. Mood rings, you know?

Oh, my feet are bare now, so you know I have taken my socks off. I like being either barefoot or in work boots when wearing a catsuit. More to come on the socks in just a second.

Jenny lies on the bed now with ropes on either side of her elbows and her wrists. She is squirming as if she can escape, and that bandana covered head snaps to and fro to use her braid to whip me. Silly captive, she cannot escape though! I pull the socks off the kinky girl’s feet and approach her in a strongly dominant manner.

“Open up, now!” I say to her in a commanding tone.
“No way!” she turns away at the stench, “Gag yourself with them!”
“I once was gagged with Kendra’s socks while my boyfriend took advantage of me!”
“Well, do it again with my socks this time!” we beat around the bush with profanity.
“You forced me!” I pinch her butt without remorse.
“OWWW MMMMMMM!” she is such a sweet gag talker.

Silly, silly girl. She thinks those sorority gags aren't ball gags; they're homemade ball gags, you kinkster! Here, enjoy four layers of cleave gag black vet wrap. I will wrap more over your lips as well. Heck, I’ll stuff cotton in your ears and wrap you up in vet wrap until nothing is exposed except your ponytail and your nose. For good measure, I’ll wrap it down to your neck and laugh at your squeals and spank your butt, you naughty girl! Along the way, I will put my socks over your nose so all the air you breathe is first filtered by heavenly perfume! Enjoy!

Typically, boxties are sexier with catsuits, but I know that elbow ties are her favorite. Jenny still had some strict limits at this point that I later could explore; this girl was so kinky she allowed me to tie a rope that not only went around her waist but also went through her crotch. She was so innocent and aloof to reality that she didn’t realize that crotch ropes were sexual; she thought they were an extra restraint. Poor girl only experienced one orgasm in her life before marriage.

I knew a lot for a girl who at this point had a flip phone and no internet, yes? I was 23 (2017?) when I finally splurged and got myself a cheap iPad and home internet. I still use a flip phone; I am just as connected to my friends, though, because connection is spiritual. The difference now is that I’m married and got a little rugrat ripping up the halls! The ‘net is mostly for easier bill payment; I have done little bondage research besides finding studios to visit on my car journeys to visit friends because I don’t fly either. It wasn’t until visiting Hannah’s college friends that I left Minnesota, or the Minneapolis metro at that, for the first time in my life.

A waist rope with a nice, secure rope through the crotch makes her squeak. Rope is perfect for making her firm boobs even easier to admire and grope. Groping is the best part. I tightly tie the ropes so that she is fully submitted to my will. She expected TUGs but not like this! Her butt is pushed out by the rope running through her crack. She is such a perfect fit for it that it excites me!

“Are you having fun yet?” I ask with a childish smile.
“Nmmmmm!” she squeals as I roll her onto her back and sit on her stomach.
“Hmmmm, something’s wrong. I can't understand what you are saying!” I grab her flailing legs and wrap a rope around those muscular thighs.
“Mmmmmm!” a mute sound comes out of her, “Mmmmmmm!”
“I am sorry Jenny, but you seem deaf and dumb at the moment.”

I figure a wetsuit is similar to a catsuit but thicker. At least, I figure this based on the photos other people have shown me since I only have a bare bones Facebook. No one will change that I am disconnected and happy. Speaking of disconnected, Jenny felt a bit disconnected too with her mouth stuffed, her ears plugged, and her nose blocked. I feel she's living the saying “Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, smell no evil, and touch no evil. Speaking of touch, how about those legs?

Three and three for thee. Three ropes on her thighs, three ropes on her legs. Barefoot Jenny is too busy eating her socks to wear them like a normal person. That means she is ripe to have her big toes strung together. White nylon string is a perfect match. Her toes are now so perfectly tied, and I go the extra mile to tie them all together.

String is so pretty on a Christmas present; I think I’ll wrap up Jenny’s fingers. Indeed, I’ll tie her four long fingers together, and I’ll tie all five right fingers to the left fingers and even tie her palms together. Get that thumb in there, and her hands are useless! I am such a devilish girl, aren't I? You think so, don't you, Jenny? Stop hitting me!

SMACK! it's fun, right? Nothing is like the sound of a helpless girl crying out into her gag when you start spanking her. That screech is musical, addicting; heck, it's even empowering. I get a rush from domination, and a captive’s cry is addicting like a drug. My main regret of the moment is that I can neither expose Jenny nor force her to orgasm.

WHACK!, a wooden ruler is so perfect for her feet, and the scream coming from a girl in distress sings to my soul. It is much more satisfactory when you realize that she is enjoying the suffering as much as you are enjoying giving it. When the crack of the ruler sounds out, the legs instantly buckle and the toes spread. I enjoy bondage on earth as I figure there will be none in heaven; I’ll be busy doing other things.

“Jennnnn-nyyyy,” I gently stroke her feet and force her to start giggling. Beautiful is only one word that describes the childish reaction she has to tickling, and thrashing is a natural reaction to it. There is little she can do, and she is doubly blessed to chew on her socks and filter the air she breathes through mine; just try to imagine the heavenly scent she is experiencing since I work 7 to 6 as a package delivery driver.

YANK!, I jerk on her braid and get a muffled “Owwww!” through the succulent gag she has. I cannot see her face, but her body language says she is quite excited by my actions. Life became so much more fun when I drove into town and discovered she now allowed people to push her sexual buttons after her wedding. That’s a different and amazing fun adventure which I made perfect by traveling with my lovely homemade suspension apparatus. Domination is best when a rope bunny like Jenny is the one being dominated.

TWIST!, nothing stops me from torturing her boobs over the catsuit even if I cannot expose them, and I get a loud “YOWCH!” from the damsel-in-distress. That is the most severe I can do to her; she is quite angry with that one and continues to yell unintelligible murmurings. I laugh at her and give her another round of torment. One of each.

SMACK! WHACK! YANK! TWIST! You imagine the screech. It woke up Kendra!

“MMMMM!” Jenny continues groaning into her socks.
“Oh, suck ‘em!” I make a cruel double entendre right then, although she couldn’t hear me.
“Mmmmm!” she responds, and as she types this she starts hitting me again!
“You just like kicking!” I observe her thrashing body while Kendra enters the doorway.
“The hell you doin’?” she asks me, “What on earth have you done to her?!”
“Just playing a game!” I am so innocent, aren’t I?

Not.

I take another coil of rope and put my friend in the most unkind of hogties. I wrap the rope from her ankles to her harness and then run it through and around her various arm ropes so that there is no easy escape. I repeat going from her ankles to her harness and go back and forth before I cinch it closed like the professional dominatrix that I am and knot it out of reach.

Kendra watches me with her usual shaking head. She doesn’t partake besides sometimes tying me up upon request; she’s retired from modeling and looking forward to marriage. Even she is surprised when I wrap Jenny’s braid up in a string and tie it to her toes though! Hair tie plus hog tie with that gag is chef’s kiss. OK, so when I was younger I paid a little attention when the prison TV was on.

Despite not being that interested in bondage, Kendra’s always interested when her semi-identical cousin’s around. It’s hard to believe Kendra’s even shorter than Jenny, but then again Kendra has a deviated septum. One’s coarse, and the other’s sweet. Their hearts are both filled with gold, in my opinion, and I’m happy that after so much fighting with herself that Kendra chose to be more like Jenny after all. She stands in the doorway and gazes hopefully at the suspension frame and steals Jenny’s phone to take a photo.

“Kendra,” I admit as I sadistically enjoy Jenny, “It’ll be hard without you around.”
“No sappy crap,” the gruff girl pushed that off, “I’m here to watch my best friend and my cousin at play.”
“Six months ago, I did a similar thing to you while you wore the same catsuit. You’ll let me do this to you for money, but not at home.”
“I am, was, an actress of erotica, and we’re friends. It's just acting.”
“Good times that I will miss; you're cuter than she is when you're tied up.”
“M.A.,” said ‘Ma,’ Kendra continued, “I’m gonna miss the adventures.”

Kendra and I have been roommates for three years. After I got out of prison, I spent some time as a homeless person before moving in with family. I couldn't stand them and moved into my own place, and then Kendra moved in with me. Now, I am going to be alone again, but we'll still be besties. She is still staring at the frame.

“You want me to turn your cousin into a piece of meat, don't you?”
“Hell, yeah, baby. Hang her up like a smoked ham,” Kendra laughs.
“I will do it with exorbitant amounts of happiness!” I grab another coil of rope.
“Get to it, Trix Domina!” a genuine smile forms on her face.
“I’m doing it!” I wrap the rope around Jenny’s knees.
“Mmmmm!” my sense-deprived friend wiggles a little.

Can you imagine how much more fun this would be if I could make her orgasm?

With a scream, Jenny gets hoisted into the air. That squeal! Only a kinkster squeals like this! Jenny, you are a kinky girl, a naughty girl, a Gangsta Princess, an adventure seeker, a bondage addict, a supreme submissive, a rope bunny, but you will never be a slave. You are strong willed, and the fight to resist is where you get half the pleasure in TUGs. Kendra is taking more photos with Jenny’s phone.

The apparatus is perfect. Jenny swings with no chance of the frame collapsing. Now I do it again: SMACK! WHACK! YANK! TWIST! Do I love that gag talk screaming that much? Oh, yes, yes, YES! She loves it too, and my roommate enjoys being a witness to it. Those screams are an angelic chorus to me; do you feel as do I that a psychiatrist would have a field day with me!

I can do those tortures all day, but you know what would really make this amazing? If an ice cube or three ended up inside that form fitting catsuit. I send Kendra to fetch some cubes, and she eagerly dashes off to do just that. It’s nice to have a lovely assistant like her, and the desire to join the festivities in this way shows she enjoys kink but not as a participant.

Jenny looks so amazing dangling upside down from the bar above her, and my mind races with a thousand ways to torment her. The three greatest gags: ball (of any type), dirty laundry, and legit male flesh. Jenny is so kinky, yet she only goes for the one. Some of my friends disagree with my list, but those are the best. A strong candidate for number four would be a penis panel gag; again doesn’t help here. Kinky but with odd limits. Jenny, that’s what makes you such fun when I play with you, you weirdo. No! No. Hitting. Me. Jenny. Stop it!

“Here you go,” Kendra hands me a cup of ice.
“Perfect,” I put it down and unzip the catsuit.
“Mmmmm!” my captive continues enjoying the chef’s kiss tastes and scents of bondage.
“One for your crotch,” I jam the ice down the suit.
“EEEEE!” she instantly reacts to the cold, and she repeats it when I jam on her back.
“Perfect, perfect,” I zip the suit back up and leave an ice cube on each boob before sealing it.

Jenny is now wailing loudly into the gag as I actually care one whit about such minor protests; I’ll do something to stop when you’re in legit distress. Kinky rope bunny is heading towards the parallel universe of subspace, yes? Yes, yes you are. I have just the trick to ensure you get there because you’re two thirds of the way there after that spanking, and those ice cubes are pushing you ever closer! The rush of being completely unable to move is doing wonders for you; gravity is causing that upside down hogtie to incessantly yank on your braid; just being upside down will be enough for most people; you are getting my absolute best today, my bondage toy! Kendra is now filming her cousin's torment; she knows Jenny loves it.

Jenny, meet your friend, the electric toothbrush! Oh, yes, you are certain to reach subspace now! Yes, you are! I’ll just take this devilish little device and start rubbing it on the soles of your feet since you can’t do anything with them. Now you are laughing, my friend, and you are forced to suffer with the mouthwatering flavors of your feet and smother in the piquant cheese of my own feet. Despite the muted sounds and your inability to express anything, I can tell by those muted squeals that you are loving every moment of what I am doing to you.

Those sounds that come from Jenny are a powerful drug to me. All we here is “Guuuuh, huuuh, huuuh, huuuuuuuuh! GUUUUUUUUHHHHHHH!” because her face is so crushed. Kendra has a smile on her face, and I just feel a stronger and stronger rush going through my body. Jenny, I am not slightly sorry. In fact, I’ll do it again! I’ll do worse if you give me the chance! I think I see it coming, a slowing in your struggles. Are you losing the battle? There’s no need to yank on your braid when every motion you take is an intense shot of that incredible oxycotin; a nasty spank or four will do it though. Yes, Kendra, hand me the paddle; no, not that one, the big one. Yes, that one! One! Two! Three! Four!

“Kendra, vibrator, please,” I beg her as I collapse on the floor.
“You OK?” she notices the silent Jenny no longer is struggling like she was before, “And her?”
“She’s in subspace. Hit her feet with the toothbrush for another 90 seconds, and she’ll be gone.”
“All right,” she’s more than glad to help me, “And paddling?”
“Yeah, after you’ve done that, give her a paddle on each cheek.”
“Don’t thank me, cousin.”

Kendra dutifully imitates what I had done enough, and by the time she is done Jenny is lost in her subspace. Pushing her there is such a delight, and she deserves to enjoy a moment of total peace after working so hard on her studies to do the best she can. I have opened up my catsuit and am fingering my crotch to finish off my burning need to orgasm.

“Ohhhh… ohhhh… ohhhhhhhhh!” I lean back with a smile and continue gently rubbing.
“You’ll be a loud lover when you and Nick finally get hitched,” Kendra teases me now.
“I will not,” I open my eyes, “I’ll be gagged if the orgasm is that good.”
“If he's not the one that's tied up,” she pushes my buttons.
“I’ll dominate him, too, just like I’ve dominated you and Jenny here.”
“Yeaaaahhhhhh… surrrrrreeeeee.”

Jenny is now silent except for the occasional little high-pitched squeal of delight. She is no longer mentally with us like she was before subspace. This is a calm and relaxed Jenny. If I could free her at the snap of my fingers, she’d lie still and softly talk about how much fun she'd had. None of that Jenny energy is there. The Gangsta Princess is out of the house. She coos a little, too, much like a mourning dove.

I continue masturbating and ask Kendra to free Jenny’s head since she can easily last another 10 or 15 minutes upside down. Jenny’s wrapped up really tightly under all the vet wrap, and there are marks all over her face that Kendra, of course, photographs for her cousin. With an enchanted smile, Jenny spits out her socks; she’s so calm that she doesn't care that I am groaning in a second orgasm.

I am such a bondage addict. I won’t reveal all of my cards, but I can orgasm thinking about a real arousing moment whether I was dominating or dominated. There is much more to be said about me and my activities, but at the moment I am captivated by the delighted soul dangling upside down.

“That's my catsuit!” Kendra realizes and laughs, “Nabber Cellar, right?”
“Yeah, them. You did really well for them even if you did not do as much basement stuff as I did. A shame that his basement flooded this spring.”
“Yeah, he's fun to work with, but Jenny's more fun to watch.”
“Thanks. I’m having fun,” Jenny smiles at us lovingly, “Lower me, please?”
“All right,” I stumble as I stand, and I give her a few paddles.
“OWWWWWW!” she yells in pain, but I push her a little deeper into subspace.

In two minutes, she is hogtied on the bed and quietly fantasizing about what happened during our game and explaining her thoughts. She is deep into the mode and loving it more than she can express. I’m experiencing a different high called domspace, which is the same thing but from domination! It's not as deep or lasting, but it's magical and unforgettable. Dirty, kinky, naughty girls we are; she needs a round two with her own panties in her mouth… stop hitting me!

I am listening to Jenny while untying her fingers and toes first. Seeing someone be so happy from a session is truly the most fulfilling thing I can experience as a dominatrix with nothing else like to it. Every minute or so, I put Jenny through the rounds of pain to keep her in her state of pleasure. She squeals loudly and tells me to stop, but why would I stop when she likes it? The subspace, of course, fades more quickly as each piece of her torture is removed. Her fingers, toes, and hair are free, and I lower her legs from the hogtie.

“Mmmmmmm, I like this,” Jenny quietly remarked, “Mary-Ann, thank you for this.”
“You're very welcome. I enjoyed it, and so did your cousin.”
“How do you like my old catsuit? I promise you it's clean,” Kendra crouched by us.
“I love it. It's comfortable and fun. I feel like a sexy spy or something.”
“You should,” I remark to my kinky captive, “You're a cute Gangsta Princess.”
“Heh heh,” she laughs, “Will you keep it for future games?”
“Of course! I was hoping you'd want to keep it!” it's my turn to smile broadly.

Jenny smiles and squirms in my rope work. I am pleased with my sweet, kinky, and naughty friend. She has wasted none of her opportunities this evening, and she is still as determined as ever despite being so much calmer. She acts like she can escape, but deep inside her heart she knows she is really struggling for her captor's entertainment and to chase the feeling of helplessness. What a thrill it is to have this one captive in my heart! Since the day I met her, I knew this girl was different, and a beautiful soul is there with all of its kinky thrills.

Now it's time for the adventure to end. I have to untie the adorable little rope bunny and get her back into her own clothes, give her a snack, and send her on her way. We both know that this game will stay in our minds for a long, long time to come. With a mutual agreement to meet again soon, I watch the rope bunny leave and turn back to my roommate.

“That was great.”

Now, if you will excuse me, I have a secretary to kidnap.

THE END

[Lucky Lottie]

Tickling, tied toes, and suspension all in one story... fantastic!