(Almost) True Bondage Tale

by Cynthia Harder

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© Copyright 2010 - Cynthia Harder - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; rope; gag; scarf; cons; X

A long time back, I dated a crazy girl.  Call her Mary.  She was nice looking, with a certain elegance about her.  She also like to sit in the front seat of my car and neck, which was, at the time, a new experience and the thing I liked especially about her.  She had a mean streak in her, though.  She would play dirty tricks on me. 

One evening, we were at my apartment, and one thing led to another.  We were pleasantly engaged on my couch when, with no warning, she pinched! me.  Hard.  It hurt.  I said, “Hey”, and picked up where I had been.  A couple of minutes later, she did it again!  Ow! squared! Not to mention, very distracting.

“If you do that again,” I told her, “I’m going to tie you up.”  Note that by the time I met her, I had been a closet bondage fanatic for several years.  I had been collecting House of Milan books for some time, and I even had some rope laid by, just in case.

We got back down to the pleasantries, and she didn’t pinch me.  Then she did!  Ow!!

“I warned you!” I said.  She looked at me serenely.

“You aren’t going to tie me up,” she replied. 

 “Yes I am.”  I went back to my bedroom and got a piece of my rope, and came back to where she was calmly waiting. 

“Now stand up and turn around.”  Drawing her hands back, I tied her wrists securely but not tightly behind her.
“Don’t tie me up,” she complained, and “Let me loose!”

“Now let’s see you pinch me,”  I said.  I took her in my arms and kissed her.  She purred.  Then she pulled away and walked to the door.  She started trying to open it with her bound hands. 

“Hey!  None of that!”  I led her back to the sofa, sat her down, and tied her ankles.   I stood up and looked at her, and she obliged by squirming against her bonds.  I plucked her silk scarf from her bag, rolled it, and tied it neatly between her teeth.

“There,” I said, “Now you can’t talk – or bite.”  I drew her into my arms and kissed her again, deeply.  I unbuttoned her blouse, twitched her bra up off her breasts (which I knew she liked) and squeezed her tits.  She moaned through her gag.  Then I slid my hand up under her skirt and stroked the softness of her thigh, which she hadn’t let me do before.

“How are you going to stop me, with your hands tied?” I teased.
I kept her as my helpless plaything, tied and gagged, for half an hour or so.  

I was a gentleman, and I did not take undue advantage of her helplessness. 

She had no complaints when I untied her.

It was a wonderful time.  Except – it didn’t happen.  I almost did it.  I went back to my bedroom, and got a necktie (to make it look spontaneous) and I was coming towards her with it when – I chickened.  I put the tie back, and we did some other things, but I didn’t tie her.  It’s a good thing, too.  We subsequently broke up, badly, and while it wasn’t quite like Glenn Close she did some things that were over the top.  If I had tied her up, she probably would have thrown it back at me,  like she did some other things.  She might even have brought in the authorities.  

Ahh, but, if only….

The End



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