Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 18 Added - 30/10/23)

Post by **Rtj65** » 1 year ago

Part 13

January 2019

“I know… it has been a long time, hasn’t it?” Louise says as casually as possible into the phone; her level of composure is remarkable all things considered. I can’t quite make out the reply, but in truth I’m not really listening, as I’m somewhat preoccupied. Well, preoccupied is something of an understatement, since Louise currently has my head buried between her thighs. She has already assured me that any let up in the motion of my tongue will result in ‘consequences’. I’m not sure what exactly those will entail, but the serious tone Louise used makes me keen to avoid incurring them. Besides, I can’t say that my current predicament is entirely unpleasant; on the contrary.

Despite my arms being handcuffed behind my back, Louise has taken lengths to ensure that my head stays put, namely by wrapping her surprisingly powerful legs around my torso. As a result, I’m moreorless stuck in my current position, kneeling on her bedroom floor, until she decides otherwise. In contrast with my somewhat uncomfortable position, Louise is sat in a much more natural position in her leather-backed office chair.

“Oh..erm…I don’t know…maybe a couple of weeks’ time?” Louise’s tone definitely begins to waver as pleasure continues to undoubtedly surge through her; her hand firmly pressing the back of my head towards her leaving no doubt that I’m giving her just what’s she’s after. Nevertheless, she’s doing an incredible job of not letting it overwhelm her while she’s on the phone. I still can’t hear what’s being said by Melissa, who I know to be the person on the other end of the call, or whether she has any idea as to what’s going on.

I’m slowing down a bit now, but Louise is barely stifling the gasps emanating from her mouth when she isn’t talking. I’m genuinely nervous as to whether she’s going to keep it together, but I reassure myself that this was Louise’s idea; it was her plan to inject another sort of thrill to our relationship. Just as I begin to think that she’s going to lose control, Louise suddenly pulls my head away, loosening the grip with her thighs. I have absolutely no idea how she manages that level of self-control. While she composes herself, I use the brief respite to catch my breath.

“Yes…I’m still here,” Louise says hurriedly after a few moments. Glancing up at her, I can see that her face is flushed red, and she is breathing heavily. There is the making of a sly grin on her face, however. “Oh, I think he’s busy – he was just having something to eat downstairs,” Louise says nonchalantly, pausing to allow the conversation to continue from Melissa’s end. She looks down and flashes me a wicked smile, pulling my hair just enough to tilt my head up in her direction.

“I’ll ask him in a bit, but that would definitely be fun! I’ve been saying to him for ages that we should do something with you and Sam,” Louise continues. There’s nothing to stop me from making my presence known, but I daren’t make any noise in case of those ‘consequences’ I had been warned about. After another minute or so, Louise and Melissa wrap up their phone call, and the former sets down her phone at her desk. Louise looks down at me, her hand not once leaving the back of my head. “Now, where were we?” Before I even have time to answer, I feel my head being thrust back between her legs…

--

July 2018

A few rays of fading, amber sunlight peer through a slight gap in the curtains; neither of us had taken care to shut them properly. The light casts itself across the side of Louise’s face just enough to induce a faint grimace, prompting her to shift her head a few inches to the side before closing her eyes once again. As she settles once again, her head now resting just below my shoulder, I lean my head back and close my eyes. Louise has both an arm and a leg draped across me possessively as we lay intertwined on my bed; her breath gently caresses my neck with a steady rhythm.

The sight of the approaching dusk beyond the bedroom curtains is the only indication of how much time has passed, though it matters to me little, as I reflect on the intense experience we just shared. However long has passed, I can only say that it has been something of a blur, as Louise took us to a place that until recently, I could never have envisaged with her. As I had been tied to the bed, Louise had taken the reins so to speak, but my legs were nonetheless bearing the brunt of our ‘exertions’ at the time. At least I have managed to catch my breath by now.

I hadn’t really considered what would happen in the immediate aftermath, but to my pleasant surprise, Louise’s demeanour shifted, softening, once we had both been amply satisfied. There had been no further teasing – this time, anyway – after she had returned from freshening up in the bathroom. Though of course, that had meant that I was forced to wait for her to come back – it was only then that Louise finally untied me from the bed.

Once free, Louise had taken the time to massage some feeling back into my joints, giving particular attention to my wrists, which were understandably sporting a bit of soreness. Not anymore, though. While I returned the favour to her, Louise and I talked, simply happy to be together. I can tell, even now as we lie peacefully together, that she’s making it clear that nothing has changed between us. I remember some of our earlier conversations and feel reassured.

After another few moments, I feel Louise stir once again. “Everything okay?” I ask quietly. She mumbles something, running her hand across my chest a moment before raising her head, and slowly lifting herself into a sitting position. A few strands of hair brush against my neck and face as she does so. Even in its current haphazard, strewn state Louise’s hair looks good, complementing her bright, expressive eyes which she blinks open with a slight wince, acclimatising to the light.

“Yeah, I just know that I’ll fall asleep if we stayed like that any longer,” she explains.

“I know what you mean, I probably could have too.”

“You do make a good pillow,” Louise says approvingly, “so maybe next time we’ll see if you make as good a footrest.” The suggestion is accompanied by what is quickly becoming a trademark wink of hers, and I can only look back at her sheepishly in response. As if suspecting some hesitation or perturbance on my part, she cocks her head to one side and adds, “in case it wasn’t clear that I’ll definitely be coming back for more of you.”

“Good to know,” I say, a confident smile returning to my expression. Aware that my time with Louise today is likely drawing to a close, I want to make the most of what’s left. “Do you fancy getting some air before you have to go?” I suggest.

“Good idea – it’s getting kind of stuffy in here, anyway,” Louise concurs, and we soon get changed. While this whole dynamic between us is still pretty surreal, it’s becoming less so with every passing moment. I don’t really feel self-conscious around her, as I might have done, and we seem to complement each other well.

Just as the two of us prepare to head outside, Louise pulls me aside and looks into my eyes. “Hey… I just want you to know that I’ve had a great day with you today. I hope that I was worth the risk,” she says softly. There’s a hint of vulnerability about her as she speaks.

“Worth the risk? I couldn’t have asked for more.” I smile, glad that today has panned out as well as it has. Louise, beaming, kisses me, before allowing her cool exterior to return, and we head out for a walk.

--

March 2019

Glancing briefly at my watch, my eyes widen in surprise; days like these always seem to rush by. I exchange a few words with my returning housemate, Jacob, before he hastily departs our shared living space for a shower, having become drenched during a rain-blighted hockey practice. In truth, as much as I wouldn’t mind catching up with him more – our respective schedules have ensured that we have seen surprisingly little of each other these last few weeks – I have my own matters to attend to as well. Not wanting to waste a minute of the evening’s remainder, I quickly head back upstairs to return to the modest bedroom that I call home during the semester.

“God, what took you so long? Were you hiding your milk or something?” Sitting in a short-backed, upholstered armchair, Louise looks at me questioningly while drumming her fingers against the side of the half-empty wine glass in her hand, and I cross the room to sit opposite her. The sight of her in this particular chair, striking and confident, with one leg nonchalantly crossed over the other, Louise has the appearance of someone in the process of having their portrait painted. I start to wish that I had taken art more seriously at school. Her feet are clad in a pair of tightly laced black boots that come up to the middle of her shins; she taps the one in contact with the floor almost impatiently. The chair itself, with its rounded shape and worn exterior, seemed at odds with Louise’s well-kept appearance, but that isn’t the only reason why her presence in it takes some getting used to.

You see, the chair has followed me through three and a half years of university now, after I had rescued it from a lifetime of collecting dust and cobwebs in my parents’ attic. By now, though the upholstery is cracked and coming apart in places, it holds great sentimental value for me, and is the epitome of familiarity. It dawns on me that this is the first time I’ve ever seen Louise use it. Is this really the first time she’s come to visit?

“Jacob got back, so we were just chatting,” I explain to Louise once I’m sitting down. “And I never hide my milk, do people ever actually do that?” I ask her sceptically.

“You don’t know how lucky you’ve been with housemates over the years,” she replies knowingly. As a concession, I shrug.

“But I thought you were happy with yours?” I say suggestively to get a reaction out of her, having seen first-hand just how well she gets on with her current crop of housemates, especially Rachel. Any opportunity to get Louise off balance, even for a moment, is one that I have to take.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” she responds, rolling her eyes.

“True, I suppose you must have lived with someone truly awful to choose to live with Rachel the year after,” I joke, continuing to prod at her, but she seems typically unfazed.

“Very funny – I’ll tell her you said that,” Louise says with a wink. “Though that’s not quite what happened – I didn’t start living with Rachel straight after first year,” she explains, alluding to the fact that it was only her first-year flatmates who had been… difficult, to say the least. “Anyway, I thought you knew that I lived with Vicky the year before last?” She asks me with a frown.

I knew of Vicky in passing before today despite never having met her; she is a couple of years older than me and Louise and has been working across the pond ever since she graduated last year. I also know that she and Louise get on extremely well; the latter speaks about Vicky in glowing terms. That said, having only spoken about her a few times with Louise, I had forgotten that they had also lived together for a time.

“Of course, I’d forgotten in all honesty. Have you seen her since she graduated?” I ask. Louise shakes her head.

“We’ve spoken, but four and a half thousand miles is a long way. I’m sure that she’ll come home to visit soon,” says Louise hopefully.

“Does she know about me?” I ask, wondering how much Louise chooses to share with her friends. She lets out a quick laugh.

“Of course, I’ve told her about you. I promised her that I’d introduce you when she finally flies back over,” Louise explains, but it only gives me more questions.

“Thanks, I appreciate you not keeping me a secret.”

“Don’t mention it, though you can probably thank her too when you see her,” Louise says cryptically, before elaborating, “this probably wouldn’t be what it is without her.” Louise gestures between the two of us, and I frown, wondering what she could be referring to. Noticing my apparent confusion, she explains further, smirking. “It’s kind of funny really – all this time, and you never once asked how I learnt to tie ropes.”

Post by **Fandango** » 11 months ago

Each part of this story takes another step in some very interesting directions. I love the way that it moves forward and shows the relationships from different angles. I recognize that at the forefront of this story there is a relationship between two people, but I always appreciate in any story when side characters or new characters weave into a story. Will Melissa and Sam become more of a factor? Will we meet Vicky? How will Louise's relationship with Vicky differ from that of her relationship with Rachel? Only you know the answers to these questions and I'm excited to see where it goes.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑1 year ago She has already assured me that any let up in the motion of my tongue will result in ‘consequences’. I’m not sure what exactly those will entail, but the serious tone Louise used makes me keen to avoid incurring them.

This always fascinates me. I'm quite interested to see what Louise's idea of "consequences" are. It tells me a lot about a character. But I also fully respect the narrator's reticence to find out what those consequences are. I don't think it has to do with a lack of intellectual curiosity. But I also am not entirely convinced that it has to do with "fear" of them. That might be part of it. But I can't help but wonder if he's still in the mindset of the relationship where the desire to please is going to trump the desire to "fuck around and find out", as we say.

I also love the "oral sex while on the phone" game. It's something that I've toyed with writing before and that I think a lot of humor could be mined out of depending upon the content of the phone conversation. It's interesting because it's a tug-of-war for a person's attention (in this case, Louise)...but only one competitor knows that it's a competition and is pulling on the proverbial rope.

Post by **Rtj65** » 11 months ago

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago Each part of this story takes another step in some very interesting directions. I love the way that it moves forward and shows the relationships from different angles. I recognize that at the forefront of this story there is a relationship between two people, but I always appreciate in any story when side characters or new characters weave into a story. Will Melissa and Sam become more of a factor? Will we meet Vicky? How will Louise's relationship with Vicky differ from that of her relationship with Rachel? Only you know the answers to these questions and I'm excited to see where it goes.

Thanks a lot, it's great to see that you're enjoying this. No relationship is truly static - they always change over time and I'm glad that's coming across here. I could have made the story focus entirely on the relationship between the main character and Louise, but they don't live in a bubble, they are shaped by the people around them, so that's why I like to have a full 'supporting cast' so to speak. That's not to say that some of these won't play a more active role - Rachel already has, of course - but she won't be the only one. Further to that, although there's a lot of what could be considered filler in this story, every scene, conversation etc. is included for a reason, so any questions that they throw up - including all of yours - will get answered later on.

This always fascinates me. I'm quite interested to see what Louise's idea of "consequences" are. It tells me a lot about a character. But I also fully respect the narrator's reticence to find out what those consequences are. I don't think it has to do with a lack of intellectual curiosity. But I also am not entirely convinced that it has to do with "fear" of them. That might be part of it. But I can't help but wonder if he's still in the mindset of the relationship where the desire to please is going to trump the desire to "fuck around and find out", as we say.

You're pretty much right on the money there - giving Louise what she wants is top of his priority list, and like you suggest, he probably has some idea of what sort of consequences Louise has in mind. In this particular instance, I chose to keep that part vague for the sake of intrigue, but you definitely will get to see Louise make good on her threats in future parts. It's difficult to have both obedience and resistance, though she desires both, depending on her mood. We've already seen quite a lot of the former, so there will be more of the latter to come.

I also love the "oral sex while on the phone" game. It's something that I've toyed with writing before and that I think a lot of humor could be mined out of depending upon the content of the phone conversation. It's interesting because it's a tug-of-war for a person's attention (in this case, Louise)...but only one competitor knows that it's a competition and is pulling on the proverbial rope.

Thanks, I'm glad you liked that part. It's something I've always wanted to include in a story as it's an idea that really appeals to me. There's certainly lots of angles you could take with it, I'm sure you could do it great justice in your work. The competition aspect definitely adds to it, I think it's a great way to force a captive to fight for some attention. There's also a competitive aspect to Louise's side of it, in that she has to battle to maintain control of herself. Even her choice of words at times is a way of pushing herself to see how far she can take it without giving the game away. And it's a chance to get herself out of her comfort zone for a bit, which isn't something she's used to in this relationship.

Anyway, thanks again for your support, I really enjoy reading your insights into the story, and like I said, your questions will be answered over the next few parts.

Post by **Rtj65** » 11 months ago

Part 14

January 2019

“Satisfactory,” Louise says dismissively, but the look in her eyes betrays her true feelings. I know that she isn’t the type to deliberately make me genuinely feel like I haven’t pleased her, hence the look, but part of me likes to think that her glowing complexion is involuntary.

“Is that supposed to motivate me for the next time?” I ask. She gives me a wry smile, and helps me to my feet, before walking me over to her bed.

“Does it motivate you?”

“You’re teasing me, so who’s to say you won’t say it again regardless?”

“True. But I don’t want you getting complacent with me.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get complacent with you,” I say. Louise glances towards my bound hands, as if to check that they are still secure; she makes no move to release me. I truly mean what I say, but I do wonder what would happen if Louise does ever think that I’m becoming complacent. I’m reminded of her earlier threat of ‘consequences’ if my effort hadn’t met her expectations. Would it hurt to see what might happen? This whole time, I’ve been driven by the need for her approval, to please her. But what if she would be pleased by disobedience? It is counter intuitive but begins to make sense.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you don’t,” Louise responds with a hint of wildness in her eyes. It’s there for a moment before her expression softens. “I’m only half-serious, you know that I’ll never make you do anything that you don’t want to do.” Her tone now is forcefully reassuring, and as if to confirm her intentions, she tenderly places a hand on my thigh.

“I know you won’t, I trust you,” I begin to say, before pausing. Louise clearly picks up on this, because she tilts her head thoughtfully, her expression encouraging me to continue. “I suppose I’m just curious about how else you might motivate me,” I say, managing to find what I think are the words that convey my thoughts.

There’s a long pause, or at least, what feels like one, as Louise apparently considers what I’ve just said. “You don’t just want carrots, do you?” She says finally, confusing me at first. Noticing my frown, she elaborates, “carrot and stick – that’s what you’re asking for, isn’t it?” I feel a little stupid for not getting it immediately.

“Right – I get you. Yeah, that’s a good way of looking at it, I think,” I say with a nod, the metaphor providing clarity to my thoughts. “I guess it’s a question of whether you want that too. I wasn’t really sure,” I admit. After all, it’s been my choices that form my obedience, even if some of those can be put down to the spell Louise puts on me; I simply haven’t tested her to see how far she might punish me if the situation arises.

“I’ve got plenty of sticks ready to go,” Louise says slyly. There almost seems to be a relief in her manner, like this has been on her mind as well. “I just need an excuse to use them,” she adds, lowering her voice ominously, so that the hairs on the back of my neck are raised. Perhaps I’ll live to regret it, but now my curiosity is well and truly piqued, and I know that at some point soon, I will make sure that I found out what her ‘sticks’ are.

--

October 2018

I’m still not particularly sure what we are exactly, but after all the time Louise and I spent together over the summer, I’ve become comfortable with the fact that we’ve steered clear of labels. However, the emotionally charged events of Miles’ doomed group dinner last month have put me in a reflective mood of late. Did the lack of a label delegitimise our relationship in the eyes of some of our friends? Or was it the secrecy? For her part, Louise doesn’t seem perturbed by the situation. If it even is a situation. She seems to keep her cool so effortlessly, even under pressure. My way of keeping my cool is to avoid pressure. Clearly that isn’t working this time around. I sigh, trying to stymy my current worries. My mind is a latte of thoughts, where these reflections form the milk, and combine with the more mundane, ever-present thoughts that carry me through the day so that they feel ever-present.

With all of these things in mind, it’s perhaps understandable that I’m apprehensive about Louise introducing me to her housemates today. I can scarcely imagine what Louise has already told them about me, but I doubt it’s along the lines of, “Oh, he’s my fuck buddy who I tie up and dominate.” Then again, from what Louise has told me, she isn’t the only member of her house familiar with ropes.

Glancing at my watch, I look out the window of the bus to take in my surroundings. Now only a few minutes away from Louise’s student house, the suburb that I’m passing through is typical of student housing, with long rows of reasonably sized terraced houses that are clearly decades old; paint peels from drainpipes and gates leading to gardens are more rust than metal. It’s very reminiscent of where I’m living, and the familiarity is encouraging.

Not long after, the bus pulls up at the stop I need, and almost as soon as I get off, I’m swept up into a bear hug by Louise. “Hey, you,” she says after pulling away slightly, allowing me to get a good look at her. Her hair is done up in a pair of elegant French braids, and her eyes sparkle with joy.

“Hey, it’s great to see you,” I say, before we share a quick kiss. After letting go of me, Louise leads me along the short walk back to her place.

“I’m so glad you could come, I haven’t been able to get anything done this morning,” she says earnestly. I smile, reflecting on how nice it is to see her happy like this. It’s not really a side of her that I’m completely used to, but I do know that it’s infectious.

“Speak for yourself, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all week.” As I say this however, I think again about my impending introduction to her housemates, hoping that there won’t be any awkwardness. Louise just flashes me another of her charismatic smiles.

“Here we are,” she says as we arrive outside one of the many non-descript terraced houses. Louise unlocks the door and lets us both inside. Visually, the interior is nothing remarkable, as I suspected. That’s not where my attention is focussed, anyway. Louise calls out to her housemates to let them know she is home. Footsteps can be heard, and before long, a pair of students emerge from a room at the far end of the hallway stretching out in front of us.

The first of these is a short, stocky young man with a set of floppy, dark hair, who Louise introduces as Max. The second, the girl who already has something of an infamous reputation in my eyes from what Louise has told me, is Rachel, whose general attractiveness is only heightened by her attire – a loose fitting, floral top that contrasts her bronze-like skin tone, tucked into a pair of cut-off denim shorts. Her silky brunette locks of hair are held in a fashionable updo. However, the most striking part of her is the broad, confident smile on her lips, the sort of smile that only the most extroverted people possess. This smile doesn’t just convey friendliness; it carries mischief too.

Louise kindly introduces us all, being sure not to assign any sort of label to me. Immediately, Rachel pipes up and gives me a friendly hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! Lou has told us so much about you…” She says in a sweet voice, though now, the mischief is in her eyes.

--

May 2019

“Hs thmt hnnffh?” I ask, my sarcasm masking my wariness as I stare downwards towards my thighs, where a fourth pair of opaque tights is being securely cinched off. Despite the silkiness of the fabric, I can feel them dig in to my bare skin slightly; they are surely going to leave a mark of some sort. My question elicits no response, other than a condescending pat on the head once the hosiery is secured, which I take to mean the affirmative. At least, I hope that it does.

Any concerns that I might have about the circulation in my legs are assuaged by the virtue of my captor regularly – and thoroughly – checking the nature of the bindings, mostly by sliding her fingers between the tights and my legs to ensure that they aren’t too tight. On top of that, she has taken care to keep the legs of the tights in the form of wide, flattened bands where possible, minimising the extent to which they dig in. There is still a noticeable effect, however, providing a small degree of discomfort. Thankfully, I have assurances that I won’t have to endure this particular predicament for very long.

“Hm, I think that will do,” Rachel says thoughtfully, circling the wooden backed chair I’m sitting in. Coming to a halt in front of me, she places a hand on her hip, cocks her head to one side, and pouts. An olive-green jumpsuit gracefully adorns her frame, and though the garment is closely fitted around her upper body, the looser trouser part means that her long, slender legs exist only in my imagination, for now. She could be considered overdressed for 4 o’clock in the afternoon on a weekday, but Rachel has mentioned that she is going out tonight; always eager to look her best, Rachel is the type to get herself ready for something many hours in advance.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that – you like this,” she asserts, despite my attempts at maintaining an impassive expression. In my mind, my enjoyment of ‘this’ is inversely proportional to how far away Louise is, and right now, she is several miles away. That said, she has an uncanny ability to leave a lasting impression on any room she inhabits, grappling for control of my attention even after she leaves it. It is this factor that is likely to blame for my current emotional state, consisting of both angst and residual enjoyment, which Rachel is picking up on.

“Nht hs mmhch hms yhm,” I grumble in response. Unlike Louise, who often makes a point of concealing her mood from me to further my ‘discomfort’, Rachel hides nothing, maintaining a perpetual Cheshire cat grin.

“No shit. Since Lou was kind enough to let me babysit you while she’s out, you better believe that I’m going to make the most of it,” Rachels says emphatically. Her words sting my pride a little bit, but I suppose that is the point. Walking around to my side, Rachel nonchalantly pulls back the waistband of my black boxer briefs, before letting them snap back against my skin. Suffice to say, my attire is far less sophisticated than Rachel’s, but I can at least console myself with the fact that I’ve been allowed to keep my grey t-shirt on.

At this point, I should clarify why this is happening, because at the start of today, I had no idea – or intention, for that matter – that I would be under Rachel’s sole command. With exam season drawing to a close, I have finished my academic commitments, while Louise has just one final exam remaining, in a week’s time. It made sense then, to pay her a visit while I have the free time, and offer Louise some ‘stress relief’, as she puts it. However, just as we were kicking off today’s escapade, Louise was accosted by Max. It transpired that his car has a flat tire, and, needing the means to get to the university campus to attend one of his exams, Louise’s car was his only other option. With no time to lose, Louise had agreed to give him a lift there, while I was stuck with my torso plastered to a chair with rope. Louise was grateful then, when Rachel stepped up with the offer to “keep an eye on me”.

Back in the present, Rachel’s delight in having me to herself is prompting more than a few grumbles of discontent out of me. Only grumbles, mind, as my mouth remains packed with a pair of Louise’s socks and covered by a silver band of tape. “Do you always whine this much with Lou?” Rachel complains, though judging by her tone, I’m not the only one guilty of whining. I watch as she crosses the room, her hips swaying by virtue of the noticeable spring in her step, and rummages through her wardrobe. Once Louise had left, Rachel’s first act as my caretaker was to drag the chair I’m pinned to through the upstairs landing towards her own room.

“Whhmt mrh yhm dhmng?” I try to ask, shifting my weight nervously in the chair.

“None of your business,” she says coyly, her body blocking my view of what she is doing. I’m sure that, whatever it is, it probably is my business. A few seconds later, Rachel returns with something in hand. Of course, another pair of tights. As is sensing my thoughts, she scowls. “What were you expecting, a pair of scissors?” I can’t say that my experience of Rachel so far has involved much generosity on her part, but in fairness, I’m not sure what I was expecting.

Without any further explanation, the tape over my lips is roughly ripped away, accompanied by a brief stinging sensation. The slight yelp that I make at the same is stifled by the socks in my mouth, and ignored by Rachel, who if anything, appears to be irritated by it. There is no chance for me to spit out the socks, as Rachel’s latest pair of tights are pulled between my lips and wrapped around my head several times, stretched to maximise the number of revolutions before the gag – something in between a cleave gag and an OTM gag – is finished. “Hhhmmmppphh!” I moan in protest as the hosiery is tightly knotted off, slightly pulling a few strands of hair.

“Oh, shut it. What did I say about whining?” At this latest remark, Rachel returns from behind me to my field of view, casting an appraising look over her work. “Maybe if I ask Lou really nicely, she’ll let me take you out with me tonight,” she says with a devilish wink. It’s less the prospect of being dragged on a night out with Rachel that worries me, and more the fact that I have no idea what sort of state she’ll put me in beforehand.

Post by **Fandango** » 11 months ago

These were three very informative segments that gave me a new perspective on several things.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑11 months ago Perhaps I’ll live to regret it, but now my curiosity is well and truly piqued, and I know that at some point soon, I will make sure that I found out what her ‘sticks’ are.

I like the way the narrator is able to remain submissive but assertive. I think I read a good many stories where it seems like the dominant person is driving the scene and the relationship. Part of me feels that that's the way that these things are meant to look. I always enjoy when I know that both parties are driving the action together, cooperatively or reflexively.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑11 months ago I’m still not particularly sure what we are exactly, but after all the time Louise and I spent together over the summer, I’ve become comfortable with the fact that we’ve steered clear of labels. However, the emotionally charged events of Miles’ doomed group dinner last month have put me in a reflective mood of late. Did the lack of a label delegitimise our relationship in the eyes of some of our friends?

I'm trying to decide how long I think it's reasonable to avoid labels and play a game of "figure it out as we go along". I understand that it entirely depends on the relationship. Some relationships feel like they can avoid labels forever. Miles' ill-fated dinner appears to be two months after Louise first ties up the narrator. Meeting her housemates appears to be three months after. The more events like this that go by without a label, the more the label will apply itself without your permission. As you'll show us in the last segment.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑11 months ago “Oh, don’t look at me like that – you like this,” she asserts, despite my attempts at maintaining an impassive expression. In my mind, my enjoyment of ‘this’ is inversely proportional to how far away Louise is, and right now, she is several miles away. That said, she has an uncanny ability to leave a lasting impression on any room she inhabits, grappling for control of my attention even after she leaves it. It is this factor that is likely to blame for my current emotional state, consisting of both angst and residual enjoyment, which Rachel is picking up on.

At this point, I should clarify why this is happening, because at the start of today, I had no idea – or intention, for that matter – that I would be under Rachel’s sole command. With exam season drawing to a close, I have finished my academic commitments, while Louise has just one final exam remaining, in a week’s time. It made sense then, to pay her a visit while I have the free time, and offer Louise some ‘stress relief’, as she puts it. However, just as we were kicking off today’s escapade, Louise was accosted by Max. It transpired that his car has a flat tire, and, needing the means to get to the university campus to attend one of his exams, Louise’s car was his only other option. With no time to lose, Louise had agreed to give him a lift there, while I was stuck with my torso plastered to a chair with rope. Louise was grateful then, when Rachel stepped up with the offer to “keep an eye on me”.

I think I REALLY enjoyed this last segment. You've written more than 40 segments now and this is easily in my Top 3. On the surface, that would seem odd since I think Louise is my favorite character. She's certainly the one that I find the most interesting. And she's not in this segment. But the line from the narrator about her ability to "leave a lasting impression on any room that she inhabits" is a prescient one. Louise is in fact the STAR of this segment. She might not physically appear in it. But her choices hang over the entire ordeal.

I'm most fascinated by this chapter because it's toying a little bit with my understanding of how Louise works. Louise is presented with a dilemma. She has a bound plaything at her mercy but her housemate is in dire straights and needs to get to his exam pronto. Assuming that Louise isn't going to spurn her housemate in his time of need...she has two options. Option A is to lend Max her car so he can get to his exam. Option B is to drive Max herself and leave her bound buddy in the care of her other housemate until she can return to play with him. If I'm Louise I'm choosing Option A 100 times out of 100. But that's not fair. Because I don't know a lot of things about this situation. Maybe Louise has a manual transmission and Max can't drive stick. Maybe Max isn't a great driver and Louise is very protective of her car (though I seem to remember her trying to get her keys and drive drunk back in July 2015...so, she's obviously been willing to make worse decisions regarding her car). I don't know what her relationship with Max is. He's the housemate who we have the least context with. Is Alex still their housemate or did they use him as a footstool one too many times and he found it necessary to find new housing for the new year? I have no problem loaning my housemate my car. But that's me. And that says a lot about my relationship with my housemate. I know people that couldn't do that. But in this case it begs a comparison about the trust and value that Louise places on her car versus her submissive. But once again, that's not fair.

But leaving the narrator in Rachel's care is a curious choice. I view Louise as a mostly reasonable person (drunk driving attempt aside). And I don't think that she'd do anything too reckless in her relationship with the narrator. So if this is a calculated move, then it's projecting a lot of trust. It's projecting trust in her housemate Rachel and also trust in the narrator's trust of Louise and her judgement. I'm also wondering if it's somewhat of a test. If it's Louise kicking some tires and exploring some variables to try and learn some things for future games and fun. Louise has made some promises to the narrator that appear to have been broken here. She clearly stated in regards to Rachel's involvement back in December: "Don’t worry, I’ll always be there." That's clearly not the case here. She also stated up in January: "I’m only half-serious, you know that I’ll never make you do anything that you don’t want to do." That's a promise that she can make for herself, but is difficult to enforce for somebody else. So I'm left to wonder if subsequent conversations and agreements in the interim have changed these promises to justify her reneging on them or if she's just sort of flying by the seat of her pants.

There was another line in the third part that I also found interesting based on the "no labels" aspect mentioned in the previous segment:

Rtj65 wrote: ↑11 months ago “Oh, shut it. What did I say about whining?” At this latest remark, Rachel returns from behind me to my field of view, casting an appraising look over her work. “Maybe if I ask Lou really nicely, she’ll let me take you out with me tonight,” she says with a devilish wink.

We're about six months past the "no labels" point of the narrator's relationship with Louise. But this statement by Rachel clearly implies that by May 2019...there is a label. Or at least she has assigned one. She has to ask Louise's permission, as though the narrator is now property of Louise. Whether that means boyfriend or an agreement in which his submission carries an exclusivity that only Louise is allowed to transfer at her whim. It leaves me very intrigues as to how things progresses between these two segments.

Great work, as always. This batch left me with a lot to think about.

Post by **Rtj65** » 11 months ago

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago These were three very informative segments that gave me a new perspective on several things.

I like the way the narrator is able to remain submissive but assertive. I think I read a good many stories where it seems like the dominant person is driving the scene and the relationship. Part of me feels that that's the way that these things are meant to look. I always enjoy when I know that both parties are driving the action together, cooperatively or reflexively.

Thank you for your feedback, I really enjoy reading your insights into the story, especially as it gives me a different perspective on some things. I'll do my best to respond to your points as best as I can.

I agree with you that I think it's important for characters to have the ability to affect the direction of the story, regardless of role. In this stories like this, the choice to submit is still very much a choice.

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago I'm trying to decide how long I think it's reasonable to avoid labels and play a game of "figure it out as we go along".

The more events like this that go by without a label, the more the label will apply itself without your permission. As you'll show us in the last segment.

You're spot on about this - the time period I've covered of their relationship so far very much represents the honeymoon period, and things will develop on this front as I begin to include more scenes further along in the timeline. I very much want Louise and the protagonist to have room to grow, so I didn't want them to have everything figured out right away.

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago I think I REALLY enjoyed this last segment. You've written more than 40 segments now and this is easily in my Top 3. On the surface, that would seem odd since I think Louise is my favorite character. She's certainly the one that I find the most interesting. And she's not in this segment. But the line from the narrator about her ability to "leave a lasting impression on any room that she inhabits" is a prescient one. Louise is in fact the STAR of this segment. She might not physically appear in it. But her choices hang over the entire ordeal.

Thank you, I'm glad this part made such a strong impression! I do like the concept of dominant characters who have an aura about them, and in this case it's also a reminder that Louise is technically still the one in charge, because she permitted Rachel to take over. But it's also the narrator's perspective, and another person might have the same observation about Rachel, in this instance.

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago I'm most fascinated by this chapter because it's toying a little bit with my understanding of how Louise works. Louise is presented with a dilemma. She has a bound plaything at her mercy but her housemate is in dire straights and needs to get to his exam pronto. Assuming that Louise isn't going to spurn her housemate in his time of need...she has two options. Option A is to lend Max her car so he can get to his exam. Option B is to drive Max herself and leave her bound buddy in the care of her other housemate until she can return to play with him. If I'm Louise I'm choosing Option A 100 times out of 100. But that's not fair. Because I don't know a lot of things about this situation.

Firstly, you're right in that Louise made a conscious choice here - this wasn't an unavoidable situation, so she was happy enough to leave the narrator alone with Rachel. From my experience, most people would offer a friend a lift in their car rather than lend the car itself in this situation, but that's without the responsibility of having someone tied up at home who needs to be taken care of. Not knowing a lot about the situation is deliberate on my part - I want you to question what's going on here, at least until more context is provided.

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago I view Louise as a mostly reasonable person (drunk driving attempt aside). And I don't think that she'd do anything too reckless in her relationship with the narrator. So if this is a calculated move, then it's projecting a lot of trust. It's projecting trust in her housemate Rachel and also trust in the narrator's trust of Louise and her judgement. I'm also wondering if it's somewhat of a test. If it's Louise kicking some tires and exploring some variables to try and learn some things for future games and fun. Louise has made some promises to the narrator that appear to have been broken here. She clearly stated in regards to Rachel's involvement back in December: "Don’t worry, I’ll always be there." That's clearly not the case here. She also stated up in January: "I’m only half-serious, you know that I’ll never make you do anything that you don’t want to do." That's a promise that she can make for herself, but is difficult to enforce for somebody else. So I'm left to wonder if subsequent conversations and agreements in the interim have changed these promises to justify her reneging on them or if she's just sort of flying by the seat of her pants.

I'm not going to spoil anything here, but you're right in that something has changed here - either promises have been broken or they have agreed on a change to their dynamic, and what is permitted. This will be addressed soon. I will say that Louise isn't perfect, however, and that it's always a risk to put people on a pedestal. Everyone in this story will make mistakes at some stage, and when this scene is concluded, you'll be able to decide whether that applies to Louise here or not.

Fandango wrote: ↑11 months ago We're about six months past the "no labels" point of the narrator's relationship with Louise. But this statement by Rachel clearly implies that by May 2019...there is a label. Or at least she has assigned one. She has to ask Louise's permission, as though the narrator is now property of Louise. Whether that means boyfriend or an agreement in which his submission carries an exclusivity that only Louise is allowed to transfer at her whim. It leaves me very intrigues as to how things progresses between these two segments.

This is an interesting perspective - I actually wasn't trying to imply that there was an official label with that particular piece of dialogue. What it does say, is that Rachel recognises that she needs Louise's permission. Whether that is something Louise has specifically told her, or just something Rachel has concluded herself, is up to your interpretation at this stage.

Thanks again for your support, the next part should provide some more context on what's going on in these scenes.

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

Part 15

May 2019

My eyes are narrowed disdainfully, though not enough to avoid catching a glimpse of the sight in front of me. Reflected in the screen of Rachel’s phone, my aggravated expression is in stark contrast to Rachel’s. Positioning her head directly next to mine and pouting her lips, Rachel snaps a few selfies of the two of us, taking what I perceive to be a deliberately long time, while my cheeks flush a furious red.

I should say that my embarrassment at this treatment is mostly derived from the fact that Louise’s housemate has taken the liberty of perching herself right on my lap in order to ‘get the best angle’, as she had put it. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Rachel’s legs hanging over the left-hand side of the chair as she playfully sways her feet back and forth. It all seems to be part of a concerted effort to mock me, one which is only encouraged by my muffled objections; like Louise, Rachel is a law unto herself in these situations, and no matter what I try to do, she continues on her current course.

“You could at least give me a smile,” says Rachel, making no attempt to hide the disappointment in her voice. She turns her head away from the camera briefly to look at me side on, and to say that her expression is smug would be an understatement. Clearly, she got over her ‘disappointment’ quickly. “Look, my friends are going to see how cute you look like this, it’s either on camera, or in the flesh. Your choice,” she says decisively. It’s a bluff. It has to be. Doesn’t it? No way is she actually taking me out with her friends tonight, let alone like this. Louise would never allow that anyway. Speaking of which, where is she? Surely, she’ll be back soon.

“Nhhmmphwhmmy,” I grumble, turning to face Rachel with a scowl, though it’s hard to be intimidating with a pair of tights jammed between my lips. Her face is so close to mine that I can smell the sickly-sweet aroma of her cherry red lipstick.

“Camera it is then,” Rachel replies, apparently deciding for me. “Now smile.” With her free hand, she swiftly grasps my chin and rather forcefully turns my head back to face her phone’s camera, before releasing her grip. Satisfied, Rachel adjusts herself back into her original position to look into the camera, shuffling her hips to make herself comfortable, although it’s clear that she’s just trying to tease me.

As Rachel begins to take her pictures, I manage to muster a weak smile from behind the gag, though I’m sure that my eyes still reveal my true feelings about this situation. I do as I’m told, even if it is the bare minimum, because I know what happens when you play with fire. And Rachel is an unpredictable, naked flame, like a candle that repeatedly relights itself, no matter how many times you blow it out.

--

March 2019

As Louise relates her history with Vicky to me, I consider the fact that I always seem to be learning something new about her. Granted, that’s true of any new relationship, but applies to Louise in particular. Despite knowing her so intimately, I sometimes feel like I know nothing about her at all. I know what books she likes. What her favourite food is. What her dream job is. I know her hopes and fears for the future. I know what turns her on, and what doesn’t – or at least, I think I do. So why does she still feel like an enigma to me? Is that just an inherent part of our dynamic? Does she feel the same way about me?

“Hey – you okay there? You look a little spaced out,” Louise’s dulcet tones pull my attention back into the room and onto her once again. She smiles in that reassuring way of hers that I know for sure is sincere, because she holds it in reserve most of the time.

“Yeah, sorry, I think I just zoned out for a second. I’m just tired, I think. Please, carry on,” I reply, encouraging her to resume our conversation. So far, I’ve learnt that Louise and Vicky met during fresher’s week when Louise was signing up for her university’s debating society, of which Vicky was vice president. It wasn’t until the two began living together a year later that Louise became aware of her friend’s ‘interests’.

“I can just go if I’m keeping you awake,” Louise says with a sly, but good-natured smirk, before settling back into what she had been saying a minute or so ago. She crosses one leg over the other nonchalantly, and my eye is drawn once again to the leather boot on her foot that she now idly moves back and forth in the air while she talks. “So, Vicky and I were out one night, and she can be quite loose lipped after a few drinks.”

“Sounds familiar,” I say, fondly remembering the similar circumstances under which Louise had first discussed bondage with me. Louise grins, pausing to have another sip of her drink.

“I can’t remember exactly how it first came up, but I remember that she went off on this tirade against Fifty Shades, and how it was a ‘terrible representation’. I didn’t realise immediately that she had taken it so personally,” Louise explains.

“And did you realise? Or did she spell it out to you?”

“I took the bait and asked her why it was so bad. She felt that it glorified abuse, when in reality bondage doesn’t have to be like that. I think that was probably the first time I’d heard that word said out loud,” Louise muses, adopting a thoughtful expression. “I’m not someone to shy away from something that makes me curious, so I got her to keep talking,” she adds with finality, as if that was enough of an explanation.

“And what, you asked her to show you what it’s really like?” I ask, seeking clarification. Louise shakes her head.

“No, she offered first.” Louise pauses, perhaps to gauge my reaction before continuing. “I actually declined at first.” I associate many things with Louise, but hesitation is not one of them. She is typically forthright and assured; once she makes a decision, she usually sticks to it.

“Seriously? That surprises me. What made you say no?”

“Vicky was pretty drunk by that point; I didn’t think she was serious, so I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I thought about it some more the next day with a clear head, and… I don’t know. She’s very approachable, I guess that’s why I felt like I could ask her again.” There’s something particularly endearing about the way Louise recalls this, a rare situation where she wasn’t completely sure of herself.

“And I’m guessing she was serious,” I say, prompting a nod from Louise.

“More than you know,” she says, her eyes lighting up knowingly.

--

May 2019

A couple of dozen photos later, Rachel concludes her impromptu photoshoot and tosses her phone onto the bed.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Rachels says with a breath-taking amount of condescension. My scowl returns and refuses to subside. “Aww, don’t worry, I know what will cheer you up…” I can’t say that I have much confidence in that statement; I wouldn’t trust Rachel as far as I could throw her in situations like this. Without elaborating further, she rises to her feet, adjusting the fit of her jumpsuit. I exhale slowly as the pressure on my lap is removed, though I’m embarrassed to admit that her presence has had a rather noticeable effect on me. The coquettish smirk on Rachel’s face is enough to suggest that it’s obvious to her as well. I watch as she disappears behind me, the loose fabric of her jumpsuit’s legs swishing as she moves.

“Hhhmmmppphhh!” I call out as I suddenly feel the chair being tipped backwards and lowered to the floor. With my arms now pinned between the floor and the back of the chair, I wince slightly, but I soon have greater concerns. Now looking up at the ceiling, I spot Rachel circle around towards the bottom of the chair, where my feet are now fully exposed. She calmly sits herself down on the carpet, cross-legged, and peels off my socks one by one. By now, I have no doubt as to her intentions.

“Rhhnchmml, phlmmphs dhmmpht!” I plead with her, but it’s no use. Her perfectly manicured fingernails soon dig into the soles of now bare feet, eliciting an immediate bout of laughter. With my legs both tightly secured together, and to the horizontal bar running between the legs of the chair, there is no escape from the assault. Her fingers move with an impressive degree of dexterity, dancing up and down my feet mercilessly. My ensuing struggles only increase the pressure on my arms however, and it isn’t long before I’m desperate for Rachel to relent.

“What’s that? You want me to stop?” Rachel asks teasingly, slowing down her movements to a gentler pace. “But you’ve only managed a minute so far! Story of my life,” she adds, rolling her eyes in exasperation. To me, it felt like much longer than a minute, probably more like five. I doubt I could five actual minutes at this rate. It seems like I might have to however, because Rachel is showing no signs of actually stopping, even though the tickling is less intense than it was initially.

“Hhhmmgppghhhmmppphhhh!” My gagged laughter increases in volume as Rachel suddenly digs her fingernails in again, the sensation becoming almost unbearable as she persists. Then, almost as abruptly as she began, Rachel ceases the torment, leaving me panting as I try to catch my breath.
“I think that will do,” she says emotionlessly, as if she’s deciding on something trivial, like how much milk to put in a cup of tea, rather than how much torture I can handle.

Staring up at the ceiling again, I’m too busy recovering to pay attention to what Rachel is doing now, but I soon feel the chair being raised back into an upright position once again. Immediately, I breathe a sigh of relief as the pressure is relieved from my arms, which I’m sure would have gone numb had I remained in that position for much longer. As I level my gaze back in front of me, Rachel promptly perches herself back onto my lap.

Unlike before, where her legs were draped over one side of the chair, Rachel fully straddles me face on this time, and looks directly into my eyes. “Now if you can keep still, I might let you go,” she says, insinuating that my respite from her tickling is to be short-lived.

“Mhhgmht?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I don’t trust Rachel to honour the offer, especially with the ‘might’ caveat. She simply shrugs, and shuffles forwards until her upper body is almost pressed against mine. Don’t stare. I think to myself as I try to maintain my gaze at eye level, despite the obvious allure of Rachel’s upper body right in front of me. Her constant ‘fidgeting’ on my lap is hardly helping matters in this regard.

As she suggested, Rachel begins to tickle me again, this time digging her fingers into my vulnerable sides, prompting me to struggle in vain and laugh into my gag. This time, however, she stops after a few moments. Frowning, I watch as she gets up and retrieves a couple of things from the other side of the room, behind me. Sitting herself back down on my lap, she tilts my head back slightly.

Before I can protest, my eyes are covered one by one by what seem to be a pair of cotton pads, which Rachel deftly holds in place with one hand, while her other hand stretches some kind of fabric over my head. It’s clearly another pair of her tights, and soon one of the legs snugly encases my head, keeping the cotton pads in place to block out my sight.

“Mhhmmmpphh!” I protest now, but I know that it’s useless with Rachel, who busies herself by smoothing the nylon material over the contours of my face and removing any creases.

“I thought that maybe you’ll enjoy it a bit more if you can pretend it’s her,” she whispers sultrily into my ear after leaning in close. For a moment she grinds her body on my lap in a blatantly deliberate way, which makes me harder than ever, despite my attempts to control myself. I might not have to worry about staring at Rachel’s chest, but she still holds all the cards in the battle to ‘distract’ me.

Now that I’m blindfolded, Rachel resumes her tickling, though she intersperses the delicate work of her fingers with the teasing rhythms of her hips, leaving me in an equally flustered, breathless, and uncomfortable state for several minutes.

I have no idea how long this continues for before I can finally make out the sound of keys unlocking the front door, signifying that Louise has returned home.

Post by **Fandango** » 10 months ago

Rtj65 wrote: ↑10 months ago Staring up at the ceiling again, I’m too busy recovering to pay attention to what Rachel is doing now, but I soon feel the chair being raised back into an upright position once again. Immediately, I breathe a sigh of relief as the pressure is relieved from my arms, which I’m sure would have gone numb had I remained in that position for much longer. As I level my gaze back in front of me, Rachel promptly perches herself back onto my lap.

Unlike before, where her legs were draped over one side of the chair, Rachel fully straddles me face on this time, and looks directly into my eyes. “Now if you can keep still, I might let you go,” she says, insinuating that my respite from her tickling is to be short-lived.

“Mhhgmht?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. I don’t trust Rachel to honour the offer, especially with the ‘might’ caveat. She simply shrugs, and shuffles forwards until her upper body is almost pressed against mine. Don’t stare. I think to myself as I try to maintain my gaze at eye level, despite the obvious allure of Rachel’s upper body right in front of me. Her constant ‘fidgeting’ on my lap is hardly helping matters in this regard.

Chapters like this one are where first person narration really shines. As I read this chapter and just think about the physical things that Rachel is doing and the way that she is teasing the narrator, I have to think to myself that it SHOULD be sexy. She's trying. She has a plan. She's trying to execute it. And yet the POV for the narrator makes things more awkward than alluring in my eyes. And I think that that's really skillful on your part. I try and put a lot of effort into making reactions to teasing and tormenting resonate. And you do that very well with Louise and the narrator. It's an entirely different skill to make them NOT resonate. Rachel isn't phoning things in. But she just isn't "attuned" properly to the narrator. And it shows. It's very interesting to experience that dichotomy after reading chapters where Louise manages to keep the narrator in rapt attention with her prowess. For her part, Rachel doesn't seem entirely oblivious to this. The “I thought that maybe you’ll enjoy it a bit more if you can pretend it’s her,” line tells me that she does know what he wants. But it's fun to see the narrator contextualizing this situation as going out for a nice dinner and having the waiter bring you an entrée that you didn't order. There's a lot to unpack here and I'm looking forward to see where it goes.

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

Fandango wrote: ↑10 months ago Chapters like this one are where first person narration really shines. As I read this chapter and just think about the physical things that Rachel is doing and the way that she is teasing the narrator, I have to think to myself that it SHOULD be sexy. She's trying. She has a plan. She's trying to execute it. And yet the POV for the narrator makes things more awkward than alluring in my eyes. And I think that that's really skillful on your part. I try and put a lot of effort into making reactions to teasing and tormenting resonate. And you do that very well with Louise and the narrator. It's an entirely different skill to make them NOT resonate. Rachel isn't phoning things in. But she just isn't "attuned" properly to the narrator. And it shows. It's very interesting to experience that dichotomy after reading chapters where Louise manages to keep the narrator in rapt attention with her prowess. For her part, Rachel doesn't seem entirely oblivious to this. The “I thought that maybe you’ll enjoy it a bit more if you can pretend it’s her,” line tells me that she does know what he wants. But it's fun to see the narrator contextualizing this situation as going out for a nice dinner and having the waiter bring you an entrée that you didn't order. There's a lot to unpack here and I'm looking forward to see where it goes.

Thank you, this is exactly how I wanted this chapter to come across. The scene would play out completely differently from the narrator's perspective if Rachel was swapped out for Louise. Rachel knows this, and is deliberately playing on it to get a reaction out of him. But she is still trying to make it sexy, it's like a kind of challenge for her to get the narrator's attention off of Louise and onto her, and it's a challenge that she relishes.

This particular scene will be resolved in the next chapter, and it sort of is the beginning of Rachel playing a more significant role in the story from now on, so I hope you enjoy it.

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

Part 16

May 2019

The apparent return of Louise does little to dissuade Rachel from her current course, as she continues to dig her finger into my sides mercilessly. The gagged laughter that I produce in response is part involuntary, part desperate plea for Louise to hurry up and take Rachel’s place. Finally, she stops, raising her arms and letting them rest on my shoulders. I take some laboured breaths through the nylon of Rachel’s tights, still enveloping my head, though the material seems denser with each passing inhalation.

“You had enough yet, tough guy?” says Rachel in what is becoming a very frustrating, sweet tone of voice. “I hope you’re not ruining my tights; these are one of my best pairs,” she adds, patting my cheek before smoothing out a crease in the material covering my head.

“Dhhdmnt mhmkh ymh mhs thmm,” I mumble, not even trying to hide my discontent.

“No, I’m not letting you keep them,” I hear her reply, no doubt deliberately misunderstanding me. “But if you ever want to borrow any of my stuff you only have to ask.” Rachel shifts her weight on my lap once again, prompting me to groan. “What’s the problem? You’re obviously enjoying this…” Whether it’s because of the nylon hood, the fact that Rachel’s body is now snugly pressed against mine, the warm weather, or a combination of all three, I’m not sure, but it is starting to get hot. Now that I’m sweating, I’m not even sure that Rachel herself will want to keep these tights.

“You look really hot like this,” Rachel says, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Does she ever tell you that? Or does she play hard to get?” Bloody hell. Is Louise ever going to come up here? This wait is unbearable. And what does she mean, ‘like this’? Some compliment when my face has been covered up.

I try and communicate this to Rachel – choosing to ignore her questions – and to my surprise, she actually seems to not only understand, but also provides me with an actual response.

“Aw, I didn’t mean it like that. You looked even better before I put this on you,” she coos, delicately grabbing the end of the tights bunched up around my neck, pulling it slightly, before letting it snap back into place. “Now, come here.” With my sight stripped away from me, I’m caught off guard by the speed with which Rachel’s hand firmly grips the back of my head, and her lips suddenly lock against my own through the tights. Rachel holds my head in place for a few seconds, before pulling away and letting out a gentle sigh. It goes without saying that the kiss was not expected on my part. I suspect that it’s just a tactic to fluster me rather than genuinely seduce me; the plethora of hosiery used to gag and hood me, which formed a sort of nylon membrane separating my mouth from Rachel’s, ensured that it wasn’t the most sensual of snogs. Whatever the intended effect, the subsequent series of angry grunts that I direct at Rachel are simply brushed off, however.

“Just giving you something to remember this by,” she says coolly, before slowly dismounting my lap.

“Vhrhrh fhhnnh,” I reply with monotone sarcasm. I shrug it off for now, but I decide that Louise is definitely going to hear about this later. Speaking of which, I finally hear her footsteps ascending the stairs, followed by the sound of the bedroom door opening and shutting again. Immediately, I hear her crack up, apparently amused by the sight of me.

“Bloody hell, Rach, take that off his head so he doesn’t overheat,” says Louise after composing herself. I then hear her footsteps cross the room towards me.

“Aww, but it really suits him!” I hear Rachel respond. Following a pause, I feel the tights suddenly being pulled from my head, allowing the cotton pads to drop down onto my lap. My hair is left mostly strewn, though a few loose strands remain plastered to my forehead by a sheen of sweat. I blink a few times, adjusting to the sudden brightness around me that is reminiscent of an overly saturated film. After a few seconds, my eyes are able to settle on Louise, who is stood directly in front of me, with Rachel at her side.

In contrast to her housemate, Louise is dressed far more casually, wearing a pair of black Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a navy blue, short-sleeved top. A lime green baseball cap is perched atop her head, leaving just a few loose strands of shimmering blonde hair snaking out either side of her forehead, which glistens with a few beads of sweat. Tucked into the neckline of her top are a pair of designer sunglasses with a reddish tint.
While Louise’s appearance is always enough to catch my eye, on this occasion my attention is drawn to what appears to be a milkshake in her right hand. I frown. Wasn’t she just supposed to drop Max off at his exam?

“What’s up? You thirsty?” Louise says to me, apparently picking up on the direction of my gaze. As she raises the shake to her lips, taking a sip through a straw, I notice that there’s a definite glint in her eyes.

“Nnhh-hmmpph. Whhrmm hhmmffh yhhm bhmn?” I shake my head, before attempting to question her absence. In truth, I probably could do with a drink right about now, given how much Louise’s socks have dried out my thoroughly stuffed mouth, but my curiosity takes precedence. And I doubt I’d actually get a taste of that milkshake even if I did say yes.

“Oh, where have I been? I guess I got lost on the way back,” she replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm like a leaky tap. I glare back at her, none too pleased with the game that she’s playing. I can’t decide if her extended absence was premeditated or not, but I am irked either way. Beside her, Rachel’s eyes meet my own for a moment; she has the satisfied, mischievous look of someone who has gotten away with something. Now more than ever, my sock gag frustrates me, agonisingly preventing me from telling Louise what’s been going on. And it’s apparent that Rachel is revelling in this fact.

“Never mind that, where’s mine?” Rachel asks, turning to Louise and gesturing towards the nearly depleted milkshake.

“In the fridge, salted caramel like you asked,” Louise says, her words suggesting that this stunt was premeditated after all.

“Hhnnd mhnmh?” I ask, interrupting the two of them.

“Um, don’t you know that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full?” Louise replies, tilting her chin downwards and pulling an almost derisive sneer.

“Ignore him, Lou. I’m sure he much prefers having your socks in his mouth,” chirps Rachel.

“Maybe I’ll give him a fresh pair in a bit in that case,” Louise says casually, extending one leg and flexing her foot for effect: it’s clearly a very liberal use of the word ‘fresh’. “Anyway, why don’t you go and get your drink? I’ll be down in a minute.”

Rachel nods and departs, finally leaving Louise and I alone. Louise saunters closer to me, before using her free hand to grab hold of some of my hair at the back of my head. Her grip isn’t overly forceful, or painful, but firm enough to manipulate the position of my head so that I’m looking directly up at her. “You think you can behave yourself and be quiet up here? Or do I need to put those tights back on your head?” The look in her eyes tells me that she is serious, so I remain silent for now. “Good boy.”

--

October 2018

After a brief series of introductions, I follow Louise and her housemates into the living room. Things very quickly settle into the usual kind of pattern that follows when meeting other students at university, which is a common enough occurrence. Max and Rachel are easy enough to get along with, and their similar sense of humour to Louise allows us to quickly find some common ground. We don’t even have to fend off any questions about the nature of our relationship; everything is perfectly relaxed.

“So, what are you studying again?” Rachel asks me.

“Chemistry.”

“Oh, cool, I guess opposites really do attract,” Rachel says with a wink; she and Louise both study English, so it’s easy to see where she’s getting that idea from.

“You can say that again! Speaking of which, when does Alex get back?” Louise asks Max, though it’s not clear what she’s getting at.

“He’s got a study group after he’s finished practice, so probably not for a few hours,” Max replies, also apparently confused.

“Okay, cool – you’ll have someone to actually talk about football with when he gets back,” says Louise, turning to me and teasingly patting my leg.

“Come on, you don’t hate it that much,” I say, realising what she means.

“Doesn’t mean I love it either,” Louise admits with a shrug. “And you do talk about it a lot.” I roll my eyes in response; Louise has never made this complaint before.

“Well, that’s one thing you have in common – you’re not the only one who doesn’t know when to stop talking,” Rachel teases.

“Shut up, Rachel, that’s rich coming from you,” Louise says, flashing a wicked smile. “Besides, I can make sure that he’s quiet when I need him to be,” she adds, making a flirtatious look in my direction.

“Can’t say I blame you; you know I’d do the same,” Rachel replies, accompanied by a knowing look towards the pair of us.

After a short while, Louise and I eventually head up to her room to get some space and privacy.

“So, what do you think of them?” Louise asks me matter-of-factly. Opposite me, she sits in her desk chair with one leg crossed over the other, maintaining an upright posture, like a cat guarding their territory.

“I like them – they’re cool people,” I say, nodding.

“Good – Rachel wasn’t… too much, was she?” After a moment’s consideration, I shake my head. While it is true that she was flirtatious in a no-holds-barred kind of way for the duration of our encounter, I put that down to it simply being her way of being friendly.

“Is she like that with everyone?” I ask to confirm my thoughts.

“She’s a flirty kind of person, but only with people that she finds attractive, so I’d take it as a compliment.” Louise doesn’t seem to be threatened, but I won’t lie that it boosts my ego, at least a little bit, to know that Rachel might find me attractive. I put that thought to one side for now though, wanting to fully get the most out of my time with Louise.

“Fair enough, I guess that’s good to know,” I say, prompting a smile from Louise. There is then a silence between us temporarily, but not an uncomfortable one. "We haven’t really talked about what happened a few weeks ago,” I say finally. It’s not a topic that I’m particularly eager to bring up, but I’d rather talk about it than go without knowing Louise’s feelings on the matter. Louise holds a pensive look for a few seconds before responding. She has a nice ‘thinking face’, I decide.

“I guess I didn’t think there was really much to say about it. People were bound to find out sooner or later. Has it been bothering you?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s been bothering me,” I begin. It definitely has. “It’s just been on my mind a bit. It wasn’t nice to see Rosie upset like that,” I explain, realising as I’m talking that I needed to get this off my chest.

“You’re right, it wasn’t. But I know that she’ll be okay, it’s done now. And I’m fully focussed on us,” Louise emphasises. It’s reassuring but doesn’t get to the root of my concerns. Thankfully, Louise can read me like a book. “You worry about what people think, don’t you?”

“Kind of. I worry about what they think of you, too.”

“In a couple of months, everyone will have forgotten about it. And even if they haven’t, I don’t care. The only person whose opinion matters to me, now that it’s out there, is yours,” Louise says with finality. Perhaps she’s right. Maybe I do worry too much what other people think.

“I suppose you’re right. As long as you’re happy, that’s good enough for me,” I say, feeling better about it all.

“Good. And you want to know what my opinion is? Then come here and I’ll show you.”

--

July 2019

As I step outside, I’m greeted by the merciful, gentle summer breeze that provides a little respite from the relatively un-British heat. I’m swiftly joined by Miles, who is somehow managing to cope with wearing long sleeves again, despite the high temperature.

“Not so bad in the shade, at least,” say Miles, gesturing for me to take a seat at a small, rattan table the colour of charcoal. The area in which it is situated is shaded by the looming rear wall of the house behind us, and overlooks a reasonably sized, well-kept garden.

“True. Still not cool enough that I’m going to say no to a Pimm’s,” I reply, sitting down and watching Miles set down the filled-to-the-brim pitcher on the table beside me. After he takes his own seat, we help ourselves to a glass of Pimm’s each. “So, what’s new with you? You said you were looking at flats,” I say, recalling Miles mentioning something along those lines a couple of weeks ago.

“Yeah, I think my parents have been sick of me since graduation. Except all of the places I look at are an absolute rip-off,” Miles says with exasperation.

“Yeah, tell me about it. Surely, they aren’t actually sick of you, though?” I quench my growing thirst by taking a long drink from my glass of Pimm’s, instantly soothed by the coolness. Relaxing days like these feel like a just reward for what has been a pretty full-on twelve months.

Across from me, Miles shrugs. “I think they’ve just gotten used to being empty nesters. And I’ve gotten used to living away from home. I think I’m going a bit stir crazy.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. You’ll find something soon, I’m sure,” I say reassuringly.

“Hope so. Anyway, what about you?” Miles asks, promptly changing the subject.

Hmm. How to answer that. What immediately springs to mind is the current Louise situation; it’s been almost a month since we last spoke. I know that we’ll have to, eventually, and preferably before our respective graduations, since it would feel wrong to ignore each other on days where we should be among the first to congratulate each other. It’s not a conversation that I particularly want to have right now, though. I take a much longer drink from my glass.

“Not much really, been working at the pub again for the last few weeks. Just trying to save up a bit over the next few months, then start looking for somewhere to live,” I reply casually. Miles raises an eyebrow slightly and gives me a slow nod.

“Well, knowing my luck I’ll probably still be looking for a flat by the time you’ve started looking. Just saying…”

“Tell you what, if I start getting desperate, I know who to call,” I joke, just as Miles goes to have a drink of his own, almost getting him to spit out some of the Pimm’s involuntarily.

“When you do, I’ll remember you said that.”

“If I do.” The pair of us continue to chat for a bit, and fortunately the conversation stays clear of my situation with Louise, though it does strike me as a little off that Miles hasn’t asked about her at all. It’s not like she and I are doing things secretively anymore.

“So, I finally met my brother’s fiancé the other week – she’s staying here for a few weeks,” Miles pipes up as the conversation continues to move forward.

“Yeah? How did that go?”

“She’s nice, bit of a redneck but y’know, not the crazy kind,” he explains, widening his eyes for dramatic effect.

“Are you sure you can say that mate?”

“She drives a truck the size of a small house and likes to go hunting with her brothers. So yes, I can. No judgement though, I think she’s cool.” Miles says, holding up his hands diplomatically.

“Uh-huh.” I reply sceptically.

“Guns or healthcare?” Miles asks suddenly.

“What?”

“Which is the lower hanging fruit?”

“Miles…”

“She said I talk like Hugh Grant. No one talks like Hugh Grant except Hugh Grant,” he says, feigning bitterness. “So, I need some comeback material.”

“Because that’s the same thing as shitting on an entire country. Besides, what do they say people in glass houses shouldn’t do?” I say, laughing.

“Carry automatic weapons?”

“For fuck's sake, Miles.”

“Tongue firmly in cheek, I promise!” He says in his defence, grinning. “Like I said, she’s nice. And I’m sure it would be an awesome place to visit. But I’m still glad that I don’t have to fly all the way out there to see ‘em to be honest,” Miles continues.

“Why, cause you’re afraid of flying?”

“I’m not afraid of flying, I just… don’t enjoy the experience.”

“Sounds like you’re afraid to me.”

“Whatever, at least it doesn’t actually matter if I choose to avoid my fears.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re afraid of commitment.”

“Come again?”

“You heard me. Come on, you think I don’t know that something’s going on with you and Louise?” I feel an uncomfortable knot form in the pit of my stomach, and I doubt that any amount of drink will make it go away.

“Okay, so we haven’t talked for a while… what does that have to do with commitment?” I say defensively.

“I’ve spoken to her. It’s obvious that you’re just trying to avoid an uncomfortable situation rather than confront it,” asserts Miles. This is all news to me, but I suppose that I shouldn’t be too surprised.

“It’s fine, we’ll talk things out when the time is right,” I say vaguely.

“Well, you can talk it out in… exactly nine minutes, when she gets here,” Miles reveals, rolling up his sleeve to glance at his watch.

“She’s coming here?”

“Yeah, I invited her.”

“Right, and that’s not at all obvious?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why does she think she’s coming here?”

“I just asked her to come over. In a completely normal way. The two of you just need to get your shit together already. I can only take so much of listening to, ‘Oh, I really like her, man’, and ‘Oh, isn’t he amazing?’, before I snap. I’m not sure which one of you has been more mopey this last month, but maybe seeing you at the same time will help me decide. What are you, fifteen? You like her, she likes you.”

“It’s not that simple-“

“It is that simple,” Miles says, cutting me off. At this moment, the pair of us hear the faint ring of the doorbell chime through the house towards us.

“Well, I guess she’s early.”

Post by **Fandango** » 10 months ago

Rtj65 wrote: ↑10 months ago I glare back at her, none too pleased with the game that she’s playing. I can’t decide if her extended absence was premeditated or not, but I am irked either way. Beside her, Rachel’s eyes meet my own for a moment; she has the satisfied, mischievous look of someone who has gotten away with something. Now more than ever, my sock gag frustrates me, agonisingly preventing me from telling Louise what’s been going on. And it’s apparent that Rachel is revelling in this fact.

“Never mind that, where’s mine?” Rachel asks, turning to Louise and gesturing towards the nearly depleted milkshake.

“In the fridge, salted caramel like you asked,” Louise says, her words suggesting that this stunt was premeditated after all.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑10 months ago “She’s coming here?”

“Yeah, I invited her.”

“Right, and that’s not at all obvious?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why does she think she’s coming here?”

“I just asked her to come over. In a completely normal way. The two of you just need to get your shit together already.

This is one of the nice benefits of serialized stories. In shorter stories I can really only draw conclusions about a narrator based on what they're giving me. But here I can start to build a picture of your narrator based on the way that other people interact with him. I get to see him deal with deception and trickery on multiple fronts. And I'm excited to see how he reacts in both instances. The first is from Louise within the setting of a kink game. I'm regularly willing to forgive such deceptions based on the context of the relationship and the accepted dynamics. The fact that the narrator appears "irked" by it does inform my opinion. I LOVE this sort of trickery and deception in stories, but I also love seeing how people respond to it and how it folds itself into the larger fabric of the relationship. The narrator is learning about Louise. What is he learning about her? And does she like what he's learning about her? Is their relationship structured enough that flirty, kinky deceptions like this can stay in the bedroom and not bleed into their life outside of these games? Trust is so complicated. Part of me might be inclined to think so, but I also wonder if July 2019 paints a different picture.

There we see Miles deceiving the narrator (and Louise) by tricking them into communicating head on. Whether for their mutual benefit or for his entertainment remains to be seen. Getting friends who are having trouble communicating to talk things out is great. Doing so through duplicity seems antithetical to the solution. Or doing so through duplicity sheds light on why the communication problems exist in the first place. Louise is tricking the narrator presumably because it's kinky fun and she wants to kick the tires on how he'll respond. I have no real read on why Miles might be tricking the narrator, but one potential (possibly incorrect) read is that he feels that he CAN'T be honest with him. The fact that people seem to enjoy bamboozling the narrator though does paint a clearer picture of the person whose head I am inside though.

I'm loving reading this story. And I'm loving not knowing where it's going.

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

Fandango wrote: ↑10 months ago I get to see him deal with deception and trickery on multiple fronts. And I'm excited to see how he reacts in both instances. The first is from Louise within the setting of a kink game. I'm regularly willing to forgive such deceptions based on the context of the relationship and the accepted dynamics. The fact that the narrator appears "irked" by it does inform my opinion. I LOVE this sort of trickery and deception in stories, but I also love seeing how people respond to it and how it folds itself into the larger fabric of the relationship. The narrator is learning about Louise. What is he learning about her? And does she like what he's learning about her? Is their relationship structured enough that flirty, kinky deceptions like this can stay in the bedroom and not bleed into their life outside of these games? Trust is so complicated. Part of me might be inclined to think so, but I also wonder if July 2019 paints a different picture.

I had a feeling you'd enjoy that aspect of this chapter. The deception is central to what's going on, and it's fascinating to hear your thoughts on it at this stage. One thing to note is that not only am I just presenting the narrator's view of events, but out of order as well, so there's a lot of context missing that will be coming up. Louise's approach towards kink goes beyond what I've shown so far, and that is definitely a factor here. So I'll be interested to see what you think after the next chapter.

Fandango wrote: ↑10 months ago There we see Miles deceiving the narrator (and Louise) by tricking them into communicating head on. Whether for their mutual benefit or for his entertainment remains to be seen. Getting friends who are having trouble communicating to talk things out is great. Doing so through duplicity seems antithetical to the solution. Or doing so through duplicity sheds light on why the communication problems exist in the first place. Louise is tricking the narrator presumably because it's kinky fun and she wants to kick the tires on how he'll respond. I have no real read on why Miles might be tricking the narrator, but one potential (possibly incorrect) read is that he feels that he CAN'T be honest with him. The fact that people seem to enjoy bamboozling the narrator though does paint a clearer picture of the person whose head I am inside though.

I will say that this is a pretty accurate assessment overall though; the remainder of the July 2019 scene will be a crucial one for all three of the characters involved and will address a lot of these honesty and communication issues.

Thanks once again for the feedback, I always find it really interesting to hear your thoughts on each chapter, and I'm glad to see that you're so invested in the story!

Post by **houdinincfm** » 10 months ago

Absolutely brilliant story! Please keep going

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

houdinincfm wrote: ↑10 months ago Absolutely brilliant story! Please keep going

Thank you so much! I'm glad that you like it, and I'm currently working on the next part

Post by **charliesmith** » 10 months ago

Just caught up with this beautifully written story. It’s well written and I love the exploration of the relationship the narrator has with other characters. Even bits which doesn’t have bondage are very interesting to read.

Looking forward to read the future chapters!

Post by **Rtj65** » 10 months ago

charliesmith wrote: ↑10 months ago Just caught up with this beautifully written story. It’s well written and I love the exploration of the relationship the narrator has with other characters. Even bits which doesn’t have bondage are very interesting to read.

Looking forward to read the future chapters!

Thank you very much, I really appreciate the feedback. Glad you're enjoying all of the different aspects of this story; there's plenty more of it to come!

Post by **Rtj65** » 8 months ago

Note: Sorry for the delay in getting this next part out, I was hoping to do so before I had a bit of travelling lined up, but I didn't quite get around to finishing the edit until now. Anyway, enjoy!

Part 17

March 2019

“…you’re staring at my boots, aren’t you?”

I blink a couple of times and refocus my gaze on Louise’s expression; she raises an eyebrow in response. “What? No, I was listening, please carry on,” I say, more dismissively than I would like.

“I didn’t say you weren’t listening. Are you now saying that you actually can’t multitask?”

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“Just admit it, you were staring, weren’t you?”

“They look good, I think they suit you, that’s all,” I admit.

“Hmm. Hands behind your back.”

“Wait, what? I thought we were just talking?”

“Actually, I’m talking. You want to hear the rest of the story? Then put your hands behind your back.” I know that I could refuse. Part of me really wants to, just to see what she would do. But another part of me wants Louise to continue her story. I still know so little about her relationship and history with Vicky, and I’m eager to find out more.

“Fine, I guess we’re doing this,” I say with resignation, coming down on the side of compliance. For now.

Louise is often prepared in these types of situations, always having something nearby to use as a restraint. On this occasion however, she has to get up and cross the room towards her bag that had hitherto been propped against the foot of my wardrobe. The brief silence is broken by the sharp clacking of her boots against the wooden floorboards beneath her, the sound resonating through the room. She seems to rummage around in the bag for longer than necessary, and it dawns on me that I’m just sat here stupidly, with my arms already placed together behind my back, just like she asked me to do. Or told me to do, rather.

Louise returns to me, armed with a roll of duct tape.

“That’s going to be loud,” I say hesitantly, considering that we aren’t alone in the house.

“Well then, you had better be quiet, hadn’t you?” She replies in a lowered voice, dismissing my concerns.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” I say, trying to avoid raising my voice.

“Yeah well, deal with it.” Brushing me off, Louise promptly pulled the end free from the roll, unravelling a few inches in a single motion before pausing. Silence falls for a moment, as if Louise is trying to gauge whether the ripping sound of the tape created any disturbance. Satisfied that it hadn’t, she swiftly resumes the unwrapping process, once again producing the characteristic ripping sound that emanates throughout the room, much like her boots had done moments ago. I feel the tape soon being pressed against my wrists, and before long Louise has my hands pinioned together, palm to palm.

“You going to carry on with the story or what?”

“I’m getting to it.” Louise says firmly, tearing the end of the tape free from the roll and smoothing it down. I can tell that she’s doing this deliberately slowly, either to get a reaction out of me, or to make a point. She moves around in front of me and signals for me to outstretch my legs.

“And why exactly are we doing this now?” I ask, watching her bring my feet together. Louise smirks.

“Because you agreed to it? I’ve got to say, you’ve always been keen, but now you’re just doing whatever I tell you without question,” she explains, clearly pleased with herself. In this situation, I suppose that she isn’t wrong. Do I make this too easy for her?

“Even so, why are you doing this?” I ask, clarifying my previous question.

“Because you were acting like you weren’t staring,” Louise says with a shrug. She’s moved up to my shins by now, forming a continuous binding with the tape that spans from my ankles to my shins.

“I did admit it though,” I contend.

“You sort of did, but only after I pushed you.” I don’t really have much of a retort for that, so I simply keep quiet in the hopes that it will prompt Louise to return to her story. In the meantime, she continues to cocoon my legs, clearly intent on not wasting an inch of the duct tape. “Don’t know why you didn’t just admit that you were staring. I stare at you all the time.”

“You must be pretty good at hiding it,” I say, Louise’s admission coming as something of a surprise to me. A good surprise though; I won’t pretend that I don’t like having my ego stroked.

“I can be discrete when I want to be,” Louise briefly looks up, so we are at eye level, and flashes me a lethally seductive smile. Glancing back down, she tears off the end of the tape with her teeth, pressing it down over my thighs. Only a slight break in the bindings has been permitted for my knees; my legs are otherwise completely enveloped. Remarkably, despite getting through a significant quantity of tape, Louise managed to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Clearly,” I say, strangely impressed.

“Anyway, where was I?” Louise straightens up and pulls me a few feet across the floor towards the chair she was sitting in earlier. Thanks to the smooth floorboards, the action is performed easily enough. There’s little I can do help Louise as she positions my legs underneath the seat of the chair, but it’s not like she needs the help.

“You were telling me about you and Vicky,” I remind her, as if she actually needs it.

“You say that like we were a couple,” Louise laughs, returning to her seat above me, her legs either side of my torso. I crane my neck slightly to look up at her.

“Well, from what you’ve told me so far…”

“Believe me, it was very different to what we have,” she responds, bringing her feet together behind my back and gently nudging me forwards.

“So, you’re saying we’re a couple?” I goad. Louise doesn’t say anything but offers me a knowing look that is full of warmth in lieu of clarity. I watch as she turns her attention back to her drink, once again putting my patience to the test.

“We weren’t ever romantic or anything, she just… opened my eyes to a few things,” Louise explains. Despite our respective positions, she seems to be the one in the position of vulnerability, so I wait for her to continue. “I won’t pretend that I wasn’t upset when she moved stateside though,” she adds, seemingly with a tinge of regret.

“Do you wish it had turned into something more?”

She seems to consider the question for a moment before responding. “No, I think it’s turned out for the best. I might have answered differently at the time though,” she says candidly.

“Is that just because of me or…?” I say, half-joking.

“Very modest, as always. You’re lucky I’m going so easy on you,” Louise says in a reprimanding fashion. I look down towards my legs and frown.

“Doing this is ‘going easy’?”

“Oh, I’m not even finished with you yet. Anyway, I make it worth your while, don’t I?” With the tape wrapped so tightly around my limbs, I haven’t even bothered trying to escape up to this point. Louise’s implication therefore feels wholly unnecessary, but she isn’t exactly wrong with her latter point.

“Most of the time…” I say, perhaps understating the truth. Louise doesn’t seem in the least bit put off by this; in fact, she apparently finds it terribly funny.

“Oh my god, you really don’t know how good you have it, do you? Vicky would eat you alive!” The mischievous glint in Louise’s eyes that has flirted with making an appearance over the last few minutes finally takes centre stage, casting its usual, disarming spell on me.

“Right. And exactly how much did she teach you?” I ask with some uncertainty.

“Well, if you stop interrupting, I could actually tell you,” she replies with her own, unique brand of condescension. In what should by now be a predictable development, Louise slowly, teasingly unzips one of her leather boots, before slipping her foot free. Evidently, she is going to make sure that I stop interrupting, whether I like it or not.

--

May 2019

Mere minutes after finally being reunited with Louise, I watch incredulously as she turns tail and leaves me alone to struggle in Rachel’s room. There’s no one in here with me to notice it, but I’m sure that my frustration must be palpable right now. There was no fanfare about Louise’s exit; she offered no further parting words or looked over her shoulder in my direction. For all I know, her train of thought could have moved on from me before she was even out of the room.

Louise doesn’t normally leave me on tenterhooks; at least, not quite like this. I know broadly what to expect when I’m tied up from the get-go. Sure, there might be some teasing along the way, some sort of ‘punishment’ or surprise to keep me on my toes. But while the journey may vary, I at least always know the destination. At the end of it all, Louise rewards my patience – or endurance – depending on which way you look at it. And to be clear, that reward is always worth it, because no matter whatever she throws at me, it makes me want her more. I don’t like being tickled, for example, but even then, she looks hot when she does it to me, maybe more so than usual, which is saying something. So, I can’t really say that anything she does to me is that bad. The only real difference this time is that she is doing nothing.

I sense that this whole situation was premeditated, but I can’t say for certain. Louise is both a planner, and an opportunist in equal measure. And then there is Rachel’s involvement. The very fact that it is her tights that I am tied with serves as the strongest reminder of her role in this, notwithstanding the fact that it is her bedroom in which I am being held. I can’t say that I was entirely comfortable with what she was doing. If I could have agreed to it, and knew for certain that Louise was in on it, then maybe it would be a different story, but who knows? Did Louise put her up to it? Possibly. Then again, I’ve seen the look in Rachel’s eyes when she wants something. I get the impression that if you give her an inch, she’ll take a mile.

All of this leaves me with a great deal of uncertainty. Things seemed ordinary enough when Louise initiated this earlier today. But then we were interrupted, and it seems to have shifted the paradigm. I can’t see the ending. I can’t determine whether it’s worth patiently enduring my predicament. And above all else, I can’t agree to the new situations that Louise has forcibly thrown my way today – intentionally or not. As such, I feel as though I have no choice but to try and escape – to properly try, this time. Louise and Rachel have been gone for a while now, and who knows how long they plan on leaving me to stew up here.

I tug and pull on the bindings fastening my limbs together. Of course, they still dig in somewhat, and the stretchy nature of the nylon ensures that any slack I am able to create simply creates a force that makes the material snap back into place. Luckily, my fingers aren’t quite going numb, but they might well do if I keep going with this method. I need to attempt a different tactic. If I can grab hold of something small enough to slip between my bindings, I might be able to create some leverage. After briefly scanning the room, I spot Rachel’s makeup bag on her dressing table, the contents strewn across the surface. There are a couple of brushes that might be just what I’m looking for. Unfortunately, the table is halfway across the room.

Sighing, I attempt to begin what proves to be a deeply frustrating journey. Using the strength of my torso and upper legs, I try to shift the weight of the chair in a series of sudden, singular movements. After a couple of misfires, I soon manage to get moving, albeit a few, agonising inches at a time. I grunt from exertion into Louise’s sock gag, my mouth feeling drier than the Atacama by now, and I pause for breath. For all my effort, I’ve hardly moved. The one perk of being left alone is that no one can see this embarrassing spectacle, at least.

Renewing my efforts, I put a bit more force into my movements, finally starting to make headway. All of this makes the tights dig in some more, but I barely notice. I press on, continuing to shift the chair sideways across the room. I begin to relax now that I’ve got the hang of this. That is, until the chair begins to tip onto its side.

--

July 2019

Shifting my feet nervously underneath the table, I wait for Miles to return from answering the front door, presumably with Louise in tow. After a moment, I hear faint voices exchange pleasantries from inside the house, gradually increasing in volume as they approach. Eventually, Miles reemerges outside, flanked by Louise as anticipated. The pair are immediately bathed in bright sunlight, making it hard to discern any kind of expression on either of their faces. What I do notice however, is the radiant, red, and white summer dress that Louise is wearing, along with a pair of sandals. As they approach, Louise finally notices me, and stops in her tracks.

“Um, hi?” She says, raising an eyebrow in Miles’ direction.

“Hey. I take it you knew nothing about this either?” I say before Miles can interject. Louise shakes her head, and the pair of us look towards Miles. I already know what’s going on, but I’m waiting to see if he’ll offer Louise an explanation before I have to.

“Miles, why wouldn’t you tell me about this?” Louise asks him. I recognise the look on her face; it’s a trap. She’s already put two and two together but is giving him a chance to explain first. In fairness to Miles, he is completely forthcoming in his response.

“I figured that two of you could use some time to talk,” he says, shrugging.

“You don’t think that’s something we could just figure out ourselves?” I ask Miles. To his side, Louise briefly bursts into laughter.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” she says, grinning sheepishly.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Louise says dismissively. “Well, apart from the fact that you literally couldn’t figure it out yourself.” That definitely stings.

“I said that I just needed some time,” I eventually reply.

“You know that I’ve been ready to talk this whole time; I’m supposed to just sit around and wait for you to make a decision for however long?” Louise raises her voice ever so slightly, but I notice a brief crack in it as she speaks. She’s hurt rather than angry.

“Anyway, I think I’ll just leave you to it…” Miles says quietly, beginning to slip away.

“No. You can stay and explain why you lied to us,” Louise says firmly. It’s a tone of voice that I’ve never heard her use with anyone but me before. Miles freezes, staying with us for now.

“It’s none of my business, but both of you have been so grumpy lately, and frankly, I’m tired of it,” he explains.

“The ball has been in his court for weeks, Miles, you know that. It’s not your responsibility to initiate this.”

“Wait up for a minute, how does Miles know so much about all this?” I ask, the question directed at no one in particular. Louise takes the responsibility of answering.

“Because we talk about what’s going on in our lives?” She says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I must have displayed a look of alarm, because she quickly adds, “obviously not all the details, just the gist of things…”

I frown, taking a deep intake of breath. I ponder how to ask my next question without seeming like one of those guys. “This is kind of news to me. Why did you think you were coming here, Lou?”

“I just said that I wanted to talk,” Miles says.

“And you didn’t ask what it was he wanted to talk about?” I ask Louise.

“No, I thought that I knew what he meant by that, it wasn’t any different to what he’d normally say,” she replies. Miles fidgets nervously beside her. This really isn’t like him at all.

“Normally say? Again, why is this the first I’m hearing about this? You’re the two closest people in my life, you know that, right?”

“He didn’t want anyone else to know about it,” Louise offers as an explanation that simply raises more questions.

“That doesn’t sound weird at all.”

“It’s not weird. We’re just hanging out as friends,” Miles says, a bit too quickly.

Louise turns to look at Miles, cocking her head to one side. “You boys are so stupid. He’s your best friend, Miles – tell him. He’ll understand,” she says, smiling at him reassuringly. Miles looks decidedly uncomfortable in a way that I’ve never seen from him before; the usually charismatic, cool expression of his face has made way for a look of sheer unease. His cheeks are as white as a sheet, and his eyes wide, bordering on panic. Louise calmly places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Erm, Louise has been helping me,” he begins, he eyes darting around the room as though they are unable to find anything to latch onto. There’s a brief pause, before I realise that some encouragement on my part might help him. A realisation that definitely isn’t prompted by a coercive look at me from Louise’s direction.

“Helping you with what?” I was bordering on accusatorial before, but I deliberately soften my tone now.

“Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see. All I see are things that I want to change. And so, I don’t want other people to see them. Some days it’s worse than others. I just don’t feel comfortable in my own skin, y’know? Some days I might finally feel okay about something, like if I’ve had a haircut or something, but then I just notice something else.” Miles pauses, staring at the floor in a way that is wholly uncharacteristic for him. It seems to me like he has more to say but has run out of words.

Suddenly, I realise that Louise’s eyes are burning into me, urgently.

“Hey, it’s okay man…” I place a hand gently on his shoulder. “We all have things about ourselves that we’d like to change sometimes, you’re not alone in that.” I pause, still trying to get my head around what is wholly unexpected as far as I’m concerned. To me, Miles has always been the epitome of confidence, maybe even more so than Louise.

“Our harshest critic is ourselves, remember?” Louise chimes in, apparently repeating some earlier advice. It becomes clear what has really been going on, and it suddenly seems to make sense. I’m not the only person whose confidence she has been boosting. And only a fool would think that she only has one way of doing that.

Miles continues to look downwards but nods his head encouragingly. “Yeah, I know.”

“I know that can’t have been easy for you to say, Miles,” I say. He looks up and smiles weakly as a way of thanks. It does strike me that I hadn’t even noticed that anything was wrong, yet Louise had. I feel another one of Louise’s ‘looks’ probing me again. “If you ever need to talk, I’m right here.”

“Thanks man, appreciate it.” Miles turns back to Louise. “I’m sorry for meddling. Especially when I’ve got my own skeletons,” he says apologetically.

“It’s fine, Miles. I’m sorry if I pushed you there. But it’s good for you two to talk about what’s really going on with each other. I can vouch for both of you when I say that you’re both capable of being very caring and sensitive,” Louise says encouragingly. Miles, his carefree demeanour beginning to return, jokingly gestures as though he is going to throw up. Without hesitation, Louise playfully swats his arm. “You know I’m right!”

She isn’t wrong, at least with regards to Miles. He’s my oldest friend because he is loyal and dependable, and you don’t become that way without caring.

“Okay, we can do that. As long as Broody McBroodface over there keeps his end of the bargain,” Miles say, looking in my direction.

“Really Miles? That’s the best joke you can do?”

“I’m saving the best material for my inevitable best man’s speech,” he explains reflexively. Beside him, Louise has turned away, very obviously stifling a laugh.

“Of course, you are. And I can hold my end of the bargain, don’t worry. I am definitely not broody, though.”

Miles shakes his head. “You’ve been brooding since the very beginning,” he counters, and turns back to Louise before I can respond. “Anyway, now that’s all sorted, I think you could probably do with taking your own advice and you know, talk to each other,” he says, mainly to Louise.

“Right. That is a good idea. I feel like all three of us haven’t communicated well with each other,” Louise muses. “No time to change that like the present!”

“Absolutely. Now, I really am going to make myself scarce this time, so you weirdos can figure out whatever’s going on between you two,” Miles says in a deadpan manner.

“Thanks Miles,” I say sarcastically, before he finally leaves us to it. Nothing is said for a short while, as Louise and I silently decide who should go first. Really, it should be me. I have kept her waiting long enough. “I’m sorry for leaving you in the dark.”

A look of sadness appears on Louise’s face. “I suppose we’re both guilty of that, one way or another,” she says ruefully. I nod slowly. “If you want to stop doing this, I understand,” she says finally, appearing the get the statement off her chest.

Often, a single look at Louise is enough to persuade me of almost anything. But this time, I don’t need to. “No, I don’t want to stop. I think I understand now.”

Post by **Fandango** » 8 months ago

Well, well, well. If it isn't perhaps my favorite character study on this site returned from hiatus. I hope you enjoyed your travels.

Three very different chapters here that all play against each other very well.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago
“Oh my god, you really don’t know how good you have it, do you?"

There are several lines that stick with me. But this one I find to be the most ironic of them all. Because I think she's right...in the moment. And it brings to light how my opinion on the relationship can ping pong back and forth with such vigor. Sometimes this line is prescient and sometimes it seems a little off. Sometimes I think the narrator does know exactly how lucky he is and other times because I do worry about him somewhat. I think it's a fair statement when it's spoken in March 2019...but it has weird ring to it when juxtaposed with the other chapters.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago “You must be pretty good at hiding it,” I say, Louise’s admission coming as something of a surprise to me.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago “So, you’re saying we’re a couple?” I goad. Louise doesn’t say anything but offers me a knowing look that is full of warmth in lieu of clarity. I watch as she turns her attention back to her drink, once again putting my patience to the test.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago All of this leaves me with a great deal of uncertainty. Things seemed ordinary enough when Louise initiated this earlier today. But then we were interrupted, and it seems to have shifted the paradigm. I can’t see the ending. I can’t determine whether it’s worth patiently enduring my predicament. And above all else, I can’t agree to the new situations that Louise has forcibly thrown my way today – intentionally or not. As such, I feel as though I have no choice but to try and escape – to properly try, this time. Louise and Rachel have been gone for a while now, and who knows how long they plan on leaving me to stew up here.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago “Nothing, nothing,” Louise says dismissively. “Well, apart from the fact that you literally couldn’t figure it out yourself.” That definitely stings.

“I said that I just needed some time,” I eventually reply.

“You know that I’ve been ready to talk this whole time; I’m supposed to just sit around and wait for you to make a decision for however long?” Louise raises her voice ever so slightly, but I notice a brief crack in it as she speaks. She’s hurt rather than angry.

I was first drawn to Louise because in her initial dealings with the narrator I thought she was an amazingly clear communicator. She said several things that resonated with me in a way that I often wish I'd been able to contextualize them when I was her age. And I'd like to be clear...I'm still drawn to Louise. I still like Louise. But these chapters are littered with examples of how she can also be a very poor communicator. I don't think that her communication skills degraded. I think part of it is intentional for reasons that she can probably speak to. And part of it might be due to complacency. And I realize that calling her a poor communicator is somewhat laughable considering the fact that the narrator appears to be worse. But given her self-assured, decisive, no room for negotiation demeanor...I think I've started to hold her to a higher standard. And I'm not entirely sure that that's fair. I'm eighteen chapters in and I probably still need several more chapters to determine whether I think that it's fair or not. I have a lot of thoughts on the final part of this chapter, but I dare not let them congeal until I learn of the circumstances behind their estrangement. I'm exceedingly intrigued.

Rtj65 wrote: ↑8 months ago “Sometimes I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see. All I see are things that I want to change. And so, I don’t want other people to see them. Some days it’s worse than others. I just don’t feel comfortable in my own skin, y’know? Some days I might finally feel okay about something, like if I’ve had a haircut or something, but then I just notice something else.”

I found this to be a very relatable observation of anxiety. Anxiety will trick you into thinking that you can shed it by fixing whatever insecurity or issue the anxiety is resting on. But anxiety is it's own thing. It's just looking for a place to rest. If you fix what you think is the underlying problem, it will likely just find something else.

I thought this was a really great update. I'm excited to see what comes next.

Post by **Rtj65** » 8 months ago

[mention]Fandango[/mention] Thank you, this is very high praise coming from you, I'm glad that you're continuing to enjoy the story. When selecting chapters to group together, I try to pick scenes that I think will complement each other, and as you point out, it can alter the view of the characters.

You are right on the money with your assessment of Louise; she is a good communicator some of the time. Given her role in the story, I don't want to fall into the trap of making her too 'perfect', and the examples you picked out reflect some of my attempts to avoid that. I intend for every character in this story to grow in some way, Louise included. It's interesting what you say about holding her to a higher standard, because I think that is what often happens in real life when people attain a good reputation for something. The next part should clear things up a bit more and allow you to contextualise your thoughts.

I'm also really pleased that Miles' arc in this part came across well. Anxiety and its related topics can be a sensitive subject, and I wanted to do it justice. Your own thoughts are very well said, too. A significant theme of this story is self-confidence, and I've been building towards this part for a while. It will also carry greater significance as the story progresses, but that's all I'll say for now - the upcoming parts should speak for themselves!

Post by **charliesmith** » 8 months ago

A really nice update. I am very invested into this story now

Post by **Rtj65** » 8 months ago

charliesmith wrote: ↑8 months ago A really nice update. I am very invested into this story now

Thanks, I'm glad that you're enjoying it - there's plenty more to come!

Post by **tillytimber123** » 7 months ago

Had the chance to catch up to your stories. I remember reading the first few parts awhile back but haven't been on the site for awhile till now so glad to see you still got some really good updates out. Keep up the good work!

Post by **Rtj65** » 7 months ago

tillytimber123 wrote: ↑7 months ago Had the chance to catch up to your stories. I remember reading the first few parts awhile back but haven't been on the site for awhile till now so glad to see you still got some really good updates out. Keep up the good work!

Thank you so much, it's great to hear that you're enjoying the story! I intend to continue this one over the next few weeks.

Post by **Roboticrobin20** » 6 months ago

Proud to say that I'm fully caught up to the story now though I'm really curious to learn what exactly caused the rift between the narrator and Louise. They were awesome together and I hope they can talk over their dispute.

Post by **Rtj65** » 6 months ago

Roboticrobin20 wrote: ↑6 months ago Proud to say that I'm fully caught up to the story now though I'm really curious to learn what exactly caused the rift between the narrator and Louise. They were awesome together and I hope they can talk over their dispute.

Thank you for the feedback, glad that you're enjoying it - I'm working on the next part now, where your question will be answered.

Stories of Tie Up Games

Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 18 Added - 30/10/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 12 Added - 22/03/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 13 Added - 23/04/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 13 Added - 23/04/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 13 Added - 23/04/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 14 Added - 07/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 14 Added - 07/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 14 Added - 07/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 15 Added - 27/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 15 Added - 27/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 15 Added - 27/05/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 16 Added - 17/06/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

Re: Causality (F/M, FF/M) (Part 17 Added - 25/07/23)

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