Confessions of a Teenage Bondage Slut 3: Prom Night

by Ropedgirl

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© Copyright 2012 - Ropedgirl - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; outfit; stockings; garter; bond; rope; gag; tape; limo; hotel; tease; mast; sex; climax; true; cons; X

(story continues from )

Part 3: Prom Night

Hello again! Many girls spend their entire high school careers eagerly anticipating their prom night. Many even more anxiously await the night that begins once the evening ends – everyone knows girls “put out” at prom. Prior to my junior year, I really didn’t have much of an opinion one way or the other about it. I hadn’t had a serious boyfriend in my life up to that point, and never felt that it was worth all the fuss and bother. After I met my boyfriend, however, I slightly warmed to the idea of prom, if only as yet another outlet for our sexual… adventures.

As you may have already gathered from reading my previous stories, he and I attended separate high schools: I went to an all-girls Catholic school, and he went to one of our counterpart all-boys schools across town. Both of our schools drew from all over our metropolitan area, and we just happened to live “only” about 5 miles apart in neighboring suburbs (for perspective, we each had commutes to/from school of about 20 miles). Among many other things I neither want nor need to get into right now, this meant we had 2 separate proms both years. We chose to go to mine junior year, but it wasn’t particularly enjoyable (my school didn’t exactly go all-out for the preparations), so for senior year, we decided we’d go to his instead. His parents arranged for a limo, expecting he’d invite a group of his friends to share the cost. But neither of us were the most popular people in high school (I knew next to no one at his school outside of his small group of close friends anyway, nor did I know their girlfriends), so we decided we’d keep the limo to ourselves, and paid for the “friends’ shares” out of allowance and savings. Besides, we wanted to be able to play!

We had planned the whole “scene” out beforehand. My dress was a sparkly steel blue strapless number - with just the right amount of cleavage for a high school girl - that came to just about the knee (and either above or below, depending on how much I hiked it up on top) with a small slit on the front of one leg that came to about mid-thigh (a couple inches below the welt of my stockings). Under it, I wore a relatively simple 4-strap garter belt from Victoria’s Secret and a pair of their classic nude-colored stockings (though everyone doubtlessly assumed they were simply ordinary pantyhose) without panties – the first time I’d ever done so outside the privacy of either of our homes. I had spent much of the afternoon getting my hair done carefully and cleanly shaving my lady parts, and they were aching for attention so much that I had to take a break from the job about halfway through to pleasure myself. I nearly gave myself away moaning from the bathroom, but managed to stay quiet enough to finish for a dirty little secret thrill.

Being extremely pale means I’ve always had a difficult time finding makeup I like and that works with my skin (mostly the complexion, but I do have fairly sensitive skin besides), so I’ve never been as much into makeup as the “average” girl. While I didn’t use a lot, I went with a light dusting of blush on my cheekbones, and a bit of both mascara and blue eye shadow to set off the color of my dress and intended accessories. Lipstick has also always been a problem for me, but I did manage to find a nice, understated shade of plum that neither clashed with my complexion nor the dress. I picked out a dainty-yet-sexy little pair of 2” black, closed-toed heels with buckling t-strap, and slipped on matching black satin opera-length gloves. I selected a few choice pieces of silver and crystal costume jewelry to complete the look, and damn I looked sexy, if I do say so myself.

Knowing we were going to play, I had managed to sneak a few lengths of rope out of the house with me in my handbag and tied around my upper-thighs like garters. He brought a few additional lengths (mostly in his various jacket pockets, but who really knows where men keep things), along with a large white handkerchief and a couple other things to be used as gag materials. On our way to the event, once we were rolling and the tinted divider went up, he hiked up my dress and felt me up as he removed my rope “garters.”

I immediately started getting wet, and not wearing panties, I’m sure he could tell. He fingered me a little to warm me up and get me to let my guard down so he could rope me without complaint. My satin-gloved wrists were bound together behind my back, and I was cleave-gagged lightly with said handkerchief then played with and teased for most of the trip. He touched and kissed every part of my skin he could get to, as well as a few he couldn’t. It was about a 45 minute drive in traffic, and I probably spent about 2/3 of it in light bondage and various states of undress. I got out of the limo flushed and aroused and needing to reapply my makeup. It was worth it.

The event itself, though, was boring, uneventful, and on-the-whole forgettable. To this day, I can hardly remember a thing about the event aside from the picture and sitting down to eat with some of his friends. As I already mentioned, we had both already decided we would rather play than go to parties and whatnot afterward (most of his closer friends had similar ideas with their dates, so we weren’t really missing out on anything in that respect), but we had also both told our parents otherwise. He and I had been saving up for more than just covering the balance of the limo, and had made a reservation at one of the nice boutique hotels in our area. We’d also planned ahead and left a bag there earlier that day with a bunch of the things we’d need for an erotic night (toys, more ropes and gags, contraceptives, etc.) as well as such mundane necessities as deodorant and toothpaste. He’d also left his car parked there in the afternoon under the pretense of leaving it at the friend’s house where we’d be for the “afterparty,” and I drove him back home before getting ready for the evening.

On the way back to the hotel (in even worse traffic), he stripped me of my dress, to just my stockings; garter belt; heels; and black satin opera gloves (the dress had a built-in bra, so I wasn’t wearing one in the first place), and roped me much more strictly. He bound my ankles (recall my heels had a buckling ankle strap that kept them on me), knees, and wrists, then pulled my elbows as close together as they could possibly come, hobbled them, and gave me a chest harness to top it off. Having my elbows tied so close together was somewhat uncomfortable, but also an incredible helpless sensation.

He’d tied my elbows together behind my back before, but this was obviously a good deal different. I started to moan in arousal and excitement, but he produced a ballgag that he’d kept hidden in an inside coat pocket all evening and gagged me tightly with it, snugly nestling the ball between my teeth as he buckled it tightly. Moaning loudly and excitedly into my gag, I felt like such a little kept vixen and nearly came right then and there. I didn’t have long to wait, however: he immediately took my bound body in his arms and set at me with his hands and tongue. Despite the fact this was occurring in the back of a limo, I came extremely quickly, struggling against my bonds and feeling sexier than I ever had in my life!

Several minutes before we were due to arrive (he’d evidently been keeping track of our progress, like on the way there), he started untying me so I could dress and otherwise put myself back together. After the limo pulled up, he went and checked-in while I stayed in the back to primp and preen. Once everything was taken care of, we sent the limo and driver on their way. No sooner had I come through the door to the room than he grabbed me in an intensely hungry, manly way. He started making to remove my dress, and I instantly became wet again. We immediately picked-up right where we’d left off: he stripped my dress off and retied me in the same fashion, then left me bound and ballgagged on the bed to struggle sexily while he took a shower to prepare for our night.

The anticipation was so intense that I worked myself up to an orgasm just while squirming around waiting for him. I was wet and horny and helpless, and I had to have him right then! The room was relatively small but very nicely-furnished, as “cheaper” rooms in fancier hotels often are. Being helplessly bound and gagged amid such well-appointed surroundings in stockings, gloves, and heels made me feel very classy and sexy, which got me all the more aroused. He came out of the bathroom hot, wet, and naked to find me just beginning to convulse in orgasm on the bed! He immediately pounced on me and finished the job he’d started an hour or so earlier in the back of the limo, and I positively screamed into my gag as I came in shuddering fits.

Lying there panting, sopping wet, I tried to speak to him through my gag, to thank him and tell him what an amazing job he’d done pleasing his sexy little naked, helpless bondage pet/kitten/toy (or words to that effect), but all that came out from behind the gag were incomprehensible mumblings – and I liked that. (I’ve always loved the sounds I make while I’m gagged; for some reason, hearing myself moan and trying to speak through a gag arouses me, and perhaps that’s one reason why I’m always such a vocal little sub whilst gagged.)

He gave me a few minutes to recover, but wasn’t content to merely let me lay there panting into my gag, no sir! Not while he had a helplessly bound and gagged girl in stockings, gloves, and heels with whom to play. And especially not while he had yet to have “his turn,” so to speak. He retied me into a spread-eagle on the bed while I was still tired out and still too weak to resist, then removed my ballgag just long enough for me to get a good lungful of air before he filled my mouth with some form of gag stuffing and tightly sealed my lips with several strips of duct tape. He carefully smoothed each piece out before applying the next, but it was obvious he wasn’t focusing on taking his time.

Moaning into my new gag in a mixture of surprise and exasperation, I could feel myself getting hot and wet again, and was more than slightly chagrined for being such a little slut. He could tell, from the reactions of both my face and pussy, and chuckled, telling me what a sexy little kitten I was for him as he sensually grasped my face in one hand and groped my naked breasts with the other. I blushed and giggled – damn I loved it when this man called me “kitten” – and he responded by putting his rock hard cock inside my moist little sex and having his way with me. My eyes rolled back into my head as I groaned in satisfaction, and I seemingly never stopped coming for the rest of the night!


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