Drew's Gift

by Normand

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2011 - Normand - Used by permission

Storycodes: MM/f; D/s; bikini; bond; rope; gag; tape; cuffs; hogtie; emb; true; cons; X

Amy knew. The instant she saw Drew's car in the driveway she knew. In a few minutes she'd be on display, nearly naked for her ex-boyfriend.

Drew wasn't her official boyfriend. Her real boyfriend went to military school and she only saw him on holidays. Drew was a classmate and neighbor. They were in the same grade, belonged to the same clubs, were a couple, of sorts, at games and dances. They were friends mostly, almost like cousins, although, truth be told, kissing cousins. She had let him get to second base and he seemed happy there. A bit of kissing, a bit of fondling under her sweater seemed to satisfy him.

Master had stolen her from Drew in college, but in the circle of life things come around. They were good friends again, although not THAT good. He was, however, Master's best friend. Go figure.

She had been sent shopping. Amy hated shopping, which is why Master ordered her out of the house. She had found some clothes for work - and the bikini, an itsy bitsy string bikini.

It was two sizes too small and definitely not fit for public wear. She had bought it because it was hand crocheted and, being a fiber artist, she wanted to figure out the pattern. Wearing it was the last thing she'd have thought, that is until she saw Drew's car.

They were in the den watching a baseball game. Master isn't into baseball, but Drew feels there are things guys are supposed to do and watching a game is one of them, says so on page 42 of the Guy Manual. So there they sat, drinks in hand. Amy paused. Master looked up.

Master glanced at the bags. "Successful day?"

"Mm." She didn't call him Master. He wasn't big on public displays of submission, thank goodness, though there were times... And this wasn't public. Besides Drew knew the score, sort of. He thought they were a seriously kinky couple. He'd never quite gotten the idea that she was a collared slave, owned, Master's property, literally.

"I got some clothes for work ... and this." She pulled the bikini from the bag. "It's hand made and I've never seen a pattern like it before. I figured-"

"Let's see it."

She blinked. He was already seeing it. She knew what he meant. She nodded and headed down the hall. Once in the bedroom she stripped and tied on the suit. It was smaller than she realized! 36C tits require a bit of coverage even from a properly sized suit. This? Nipple pasties and a bit of string. And the bottom wasn't much better. It covered her bush, but just barely, didn't even come close to covering her ass. Before she lost her nerve, she ran a brush through her hair and headed back to the den.

Master thumbed the remote, the TV went black, he gestured to a spot just in front of it. Amy stepped over to it, put her hands behind her back, bowed her head. Bowed it more out of embarrassment than submission. The moment stretched.

"Turn around." She turned. "Turn back." She did.

He slipped his hand into the pocket on the side of the recliner and pulled out a bit of rope. Amy's pulse quickened. She expected the bikini display, but this? And yet, how could it be otherwise?

He pulled her arms back, tied her wrists. Again the long moment. Her heart raced. Her cheeks burned. Master took her arm and led her over to Drew. He nudged her into his lap.

"Happy birthday, my friend."

Neither moved. Drew out of shock, Amy out of embarrassment. Master left the room.

Being a good little subbie, Amy was accustomed to being ordered around, handled, but Drew wasn't quite with the program. She knew what Master wanted, so she eased herself against him, nuzzled his neck, kissed his cheek.

"Happy birthday, Drew."

She raised her face and he kissed her. Her mind flashed back to their high school years when she'd sat on his lap, his hand inside her blouse, the familiar lump throbbing against her ass. She always wore that special bra, the sexy one, though he'd never seen it. He liked the feel of it. That's for sure. He was a good kisser and all those memories came rushing back.


The word brought her mind jarring into the present and she felt her cheeks flush anew, sitting bound and near naked on his lap.

Master came back with drinks. He handed Drew a glass, probably gin and tonic.

"Why don't you two share it."

Drew held the glass to her lips. She sipped. Whoa! If there was tonic in there she couldn't taste it. She gestured with her chin and Drew offered the glass. Amy took a gulp and another, drank off damn near half the glass.

"Thank you."

Drew took a sip. He shivered.

"It's called gin and tonic for a reason."

"You like gin and tonic, she likes martinis. I split the difference." Master shrugged.

He took another drink, offered her the glass. She shook her head. Two shots of gin on an empty stomach and she could already feel the buzz.

"Okay, here's the deal. You can take her into the bedroom and enjoy her however you want. Just no sex. The bottom stays on. Otherwise, she's yours. Enjoy."

Drew was quiet for a moment, then, "Can I take you to the bedroom and tie you up for two hours?"

Amy didn't know what to say. Master had just given her to him, but he didn't get it. Asking her permission was like asking Master's truck for permission when he borrowed it. But Master wanted her bound in the bedroom and sometimes you have to break the rules.

"Yes, I'd like that."

He started with a hogtie, tied her wrists to her ankles.


Amy squirmed - right out of the ropes.

"Jeez Drew, I thought you were an Eagle Scout. Don't they teach knot tying or did you miss that class?" Master chuckled. "You can go a bit tighter. She's not going to break."

Drew tied her again and it was tighter, a lot tighter. Amy squirmed.

Bondage was Drew's thing. Not D/s, not s&m, not even b&d, just basic bondage. And squirming, lots of squirming.

Eventually he untied her, retied her wrists in front and led her into the living room. There was a stairwell leading to the basement and it had a decorative iron railing along two sides. He bent Amy over the rail.

Drew tied Amy's wrists to the bottom rail, grabbed her ankles and spread her legs. He tied her ankles and just for good measure he bound her torso to the railing, making a figure-8 pattern across her back. He finished with a ball gag.

This was getting more embarrassing by the minute. Standing there with her ass in the air, the bikini covering almost nothing. Embarrassing and exciting. Master had trained her to equate bondage with really good sex and now even just seeing rope made her horny. This? She wanted to moan, but stifled the urge.

Amy stood there, bent over, on display. She had been in similar situations often. Master often told her she was the most beautiful thing he owned and he liked having her around, being decorative.

Back in the bedroom Amy was momentarily free until Drew pulled her arms behind her back and had her grab her elbows. He wrapped tape around her forearms, covering them from wrist to wrist. A strip of tape sealed her lips. Two more formed an A from her forehead to her cheeks. She was glad for that. Glad that he couldn't see her eyes, couldn't see the flaming need.

He eased her onto the bed, drew her legs up, and taped her ankles to her thighs. Drew rolled her onto her side.  Stroked her tits - just once. She'd expected him to grope and fondle her, but except for that one touch he hadn't. All contact had been secondary, in the act of being bound. She could really go for a good grope right about now. Maybe a nice finger in her dripping pussy. Amy shivered.

Again the order to squirm, again Amy squirmed, almost fell off the bed at one point.

Master called time out. Drew sliced the tape and peeled it off. He made a nest of pillows on the bed, pointed to it. Amy crawled over to it. He settled in and pulled her to him. Master came back with drinks. This one had a refreshing dose tonic.

Handcuffs came next. Drew cuffed her wrists behind her back. He fastened a blindfold. He followed that with the harness gag, wedging the too-large ball into Amy's mouth, buckling the straps.

He wrapped rope around her chest, over the right tit, under the left, over the left tit, under the right, squeezing them, making them bulge. Then he tied each tit separately. He used thin chord and wrapped it around the base of Amy's tit, turning it into a hard, perfect sphere. He did the same with the other. Again that maddening touch as he stroked her tits just once. There was the snick of cuffs and her ankles were joined.
Amy stood there, being decorative as Master called it. Time passed. She imagined both of them reclining on the bed, drinks in hand, enjoying the view. It was fine for a while, but then her tits started to ache. They were probably turning purple by now. And, as if reading her mind, Drew was there unwinding the chord.

He removed everything but the cuffs on her wrists. He replaced the rope with scarves: two long ones above and below her tits, one pressed into her mouth and held in place by another wedged between her teeth, one across her eyes, one around her head tied under her chin, and a last covering her whole face.

Drew took her arm and helped her up onto the bed. He settled himself against the pillows and dragged Amy to him. He held her. That's it, just held her for the remaining minutes of his self-imposed time limit. She could feel is hard cock against her back. Amy resisted the urge to grab it, squeeze it. Agreement be damned. But she did resist. Master's rules.


Later, collared and cuffed, naked and ready for bed, Amy sat in Master's lap.



"Are we going to do that again?"

"That's for Masters to know and slaves to find out."

"Yes, Master. But if we do, about that no sex thing ..."


You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum


story continues in