Anniversary Surprise

by Robert Deane

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© Copyright 2009 - Robert Deane - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-f; bond; rope; gag; cupboard; M/f; cons; X

Part 1

I must have listened to her voice mail message at least a hundred times during the afternoon. She left a very simple message, in that sultry voice, from her to me.

"Hello, sweet David. Your anniversary present will be in the closet when you get home. I'm sure that you will like it."

She knew I liked surprises. We had been together nearly a year, tomorrow being the 365th day. During that year of learning more about each other on an almost daily basis, she had learned that curiousity drove me nuts. I was surprised that I didn't get a traffic ticket heading home from the office. To say that I exceeded the speed limit would have been an understatement. Had my car been on the desert salt flats, it would probably have set a new land speed record.

My curiousity now overcoming me, I bolted into the apartment, barely remembering to unlock and open the door in the process. I quickly looked around, repeatedly called out her name, but got no answer. So I headed for the hall closet, the largest of the closets in our apartment, to look for my surprise. She was right on two points, first, that it was a surprise, and second,that I would like it. Inside the closet was my lady, Dawn. My lovely Dawn, with that long blonde hair that hung down to the middle of her back...natural blonde hair if you really need to know. And a body--with soft creamy skin---that could stop any man in his tracks. The long legs (as the phrase goes, those legs go all the way up to make a perfect ass out of themselves), the near tiny waist, and those breasts---perky, proud and also natural.

Yes, there was my Dawn, but this time tied and packaged as neatly as any anniversary present could be. The clothes that normally hung in that closet had been removed. And so were hers. My sweet Dawn was completely nude, save for a black leather collar around her neck, her body facing the back wall of the closet, resting on her knees on a pillow.  I had to take several breaths, and more than once closed and reopened my eyes, to convince myself of what I was seeing. Dawn's arms were bound tightly behind her with white rope, at the elbows and wrists. Her wrists were tied, palm to palm. The rope around her elbows--her elbows touching, causing those lovely lines of her soft skin from between her shoulders down the middle of her back---forced her to thrust her breasts forward, against the closet wall. Her feet were bound in a crossed position, tied at the ankles and pulled up behind her by a short rope attached to her wrists, her heels pressed against her butt cheeks. This placed her in a variation of a classic hogtie, something I once heard called a "kneeling" hogtie.

Her mouth was packed with the biggest red ballgag I had ever seen, a head-harness gag, with the black leather straps pulled tight around her face and her head. Her hair was held against her head by the leather straps, the black leather a sharp contrast to her blonde hair. The side of her face was pressed tightly against the wall of the closet; I could tell in an instant that she could move barely an inch, the leather collar was padlocked to an eyebolt protruding from the wall. I would later find the key to the padlock hung from a small string, tied around the end of her golden mane beneath her bound arms . A rope was tied around her waist, and fastened on each side of her to other eyebolts in the closet wall. Clearly, she was not going anywhere, at least not on her own.

Then I noticed that even with the huge ballgag in her mouth, there were traces of a smile on her face.  And she was wiggling her hands. At first I thought she was waving at me, teasing me. But then I saw why: a tight rope ran from Dawn's wrists between her legs, splitting her crotch in half and giving her a means of pleasuring herself while remaining bound and waiting for me. I continued to stare at her, all the time while Dawn looked back at me, here eyes shining, almost glazed, making made those soft, moaning sounds and continuing to yank on her crotch rope. With each tug, her nostrils flared from her deep breathing.

My heart was pounding, at the point where I expected it to burst from my chest. And a thousand questions raced through my mind. We had, not more than a few weeks ago, talked about experimenting with bondage. I had told her of the fun that I previously had experimenting with that. I didn't tell her that it was with Jamie, my former girlfriend. Jamie had not only loved bondage---in fact I think she craved it. With her limber body she could be tied into positions that, to this day, I still can not believe. Dawn and Jamie had somehow become friends over the past year; it would be like Dawn to call Jamie and ask about the subject that, without a doubt, was so special to me.

But who had tied my sweet Dawn this way? Clearly, she could not have done this herself. Where did she get the rope, the collar and the ballgag? Who did she trust enough to tie her in such a helpless position? Did Jamie "help" her?

I thought about those questions only a moment longer. I was sure that I would get the answers later. The first task was to remove the lock from the collar and untie the rope around her waist that held her to the wall of the closet. The second was to carry her bound and gagged body to the bedroom. After that, the possibilities were endless.


Robert Deane

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