When I knocked on the door to her doublewide, she met me wearing jean shorts and a braless tank top. I took a good long look at her and smiled.
“A bit short on words but a smile like that was one of the responses I was hoping for. Come in. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Coke, with ice, unless they’re ice cold cans.”
I can give you either, so which will it be?”
“An ice cold can then.”
Before she handed the can to me, she rubbed it back and forth across her nipples, getting them nice and hard. Again, I smiled.
“I got ‘em about a year ago when I got my settlement. Wanna see,” and before I could respond she pulled her tank top up showing me an impressive pair of tits. She wagged them back and forth a couple of times, squeezed them a little, pinched both nipples and then pulled her top back down.
“Ahh, you’re a tease,” I said with an exaggerated fake pout.
“Women like to be desired, so,” and she pulled her tank top up and over her head, twirled it twice and threw it at me, laughing.
“Much better. Double-D’s or are they full E’s?”
“Tell you what, you play with them for a while and then you tell me,” she said with her head tilted and a big ol’ smile on her face.
With one in each hand I massaged them for a few, squeezing them to gauge the implants and then pinched both of her nipples, making them flinty hard. As I scraped my fingernails along the sides Janey moaned and smiled.
“So, other than show and tell, what’s on your mind?”
“I ran into an old girlfriend of yours and she told me some things about you that made me hungry and horny. Are you still single?”
“Yea, I am, so like I asked, what’s on your mind?”
“I’m getting to that,” and she stepped back and went through some age-old poses that all women learn as soon as they can stand up on their own, and just perfect as they get older. “Do you like what you see?”
“Well,” I said staring her in the eyes, “if you’ve been talking to the only ex of mine in this state, you know I enjoy the aesthetics of a good-looking woman, but it takes more than that to get my engine running.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I really like what she told me about you, and what you like to do to your women. My last ex was quite the kinky bastard, and if he hadn’t traded me in on a younger model with bigger tits, well I’d still be on my knees and smiling.”
“Bigger than those?”
“Well, at the time mine were a saggy C-cup, and her’s were a teenaged D-cup, standing up all tall and proud, with no need for a bra. My ex and I had been together for a few years and he was obviously tired of me.”
“His loss, my gain. So, for the record, I want, no, I need you to tell me exactly what you want from me. I have all sorts of fantasies bouncing around in my head, and I need to hear you tell me that you want what I have to offer.”
Unbuttoning and wriggling out of her tight jean shorts and panties, she knelt down in front of me, knelt back on her heels, crossed her wrists in front of her, smiled and said, “I want the full ride. I want you to tie me up, gag me with anything you want to stuff in my mouth and enslave me. I want to be the slave your ex told me she couldn’t be for you. She told me that she loved what you did to her with the ropes, but that she just couldn’t wrap her head around being your slave. Paraphrasing you, her loss, my gain. I plied her with lots of wine and we had a long talk. You know how two girls can talk, especially after the liberal application of alcohol. She told me all about you, and the more she told me about what you used to do to her, the hornier I got. After squirming around all night, I came home, thought about it, and the thought of submitting to you just got me even hornier, so I called her up and we did it again the next night. This time she got downright lewd, peeling away all of your little secrets, and all I got was hornier. When she gave me her blessings, we parted friends and I decided to call you. Women are much more sensible about these kinds of things than testosterone pumpers. I called you the next day. Now, it’s three days later, and I want you to tie me up so I can submit to you.”
“Lord, woman, do you have any idea what you’re asking for?”
“Yes, I know full well what I’m asking for. I’m not some starry-eyed girl. I’m a full-grown woman that knows exactly what excites her and what drives her crazy with lust. I’ve been tightly bound and gagged innumerable times and I like it. In the parlance, I’m not just a bottom. I’m not just a submissive. I have a slave’s heart, and I’ve had a crush on you for years now. I just didn’t know your secrets and mine were so in parallel with one another. One or the other of us was always with someone else, so I kept it casual. As you know, telling someone about your love of bondage is not a conversation starter. Well,” and she started blushing, “I guess it was today, but without your ex spilling the beans, I never would have had the nerve to take off all my clothes and ask you to enslave me. Will you please tie me up?”
“You got any rope?”
“May I show you my adult hope-chest?”
“Got a box of ropes in the other room?”
“You’ll see. C’mon,” and she led me by the hand into her guest bedroom.
The most obvious thing was the rope. She had a spool of ¼” braided nylon, and another in 3/8th”. In a plastic underbed storage bin was ¼” cotton rope. It was full. In another was bundles of red ¼”, black ¼”, green ¼” and blue ¼”. Another bin looked to be full of belts, of all types and sizes.
Janey began opening drawers showing me neatly folded pieces of lingerie in one, scarves and designer underwear in the next one down. Folded skirts and sweaters filled the next drawer and filling the bottom drawer was what looked like packages of hose. Sliding open the folding closet doors, she showed me her collection of fetish wear. I saw several corsets, bustiers, a vinyl catsuit, another in Pleather, bodysuits, and hanging costumes, like a French maid’s LBD, what looked like a pirate’s get-up and some cos-play uniforms. On the floor of this closet was another plastic bin with what looked like leather cuffs and other pieces of leather, and stacks of shoe boxes. The upper shelf of the closet had even more shoe boxes on it and dozens more were stacked up along the wall by the nightstand. When she opened the drawers of the nightstand, I saw a variety of sexual aides, from vibrators, to dildoes, to nipple clamps. The bottom drawer was deep, and I couldn’t easily see all of the toys she had squirreled away in there. She only had a single wide brass bed in here, which left room for a mounted stripper pole and what looked to be a very heavily made, well-padded chair.
“A young woman has a hope-chest full of things for her wedding and the life she wants with her young husband. A grown woman, who knows exactly what she wants, has a hope-chest like this. Each and everything in here has just been waiting for the right man to come along. I’ve been collecting these things for a quite a while now. See anything you want to see me wear for you?”
I made a production of going through everything. Janey was getting antsy. I pulled off a piece of ¼” nylon rope from the spool, cut it with the EMT shears I found, quickly wrapped the ends with electrician’s tape and tied her crossed wrists behind her back. This stopped her fidgeting and quieted her nervousness. Rooting around, I found a pair of white stiletto pumps and threw them on the bed. She started to put them on, and I motioned for her to wait.
“Get up on the bed, kneel down and wait until I’ve selected your full outfit. While I’m looking through your things, tell me about your fetishes.”
“Well, I like to dress up to impress the man I’m submitting to, and I will naturally cater to his likes and costume fetishes. Obviously, I’m a shoe-whore as you can see. I’m a rope-slut, and will beg for more rope, pulled tighter and tighter around my body until I can’t move. I’m a masochist that doesn’t like to get beat. And I’m very, …”
“Whoa, go back. Rewind. You like pain, but you don’t like to be beat? Want to explain that to me, slowly and in English, so a poor dumb country-boy like me can understand.”
“Okay, I like slow, gradual pain, like being kept in bondage just a bit too long. They say it isn’t really bondage until you want to get out but can’t. That’s me. I love the strain of the ropes that keep me helplessly tied long after I want to get out. A bondage-slut can get a good endorphin rush from long sessions of tight bondage, just like other masochists get from beatings.”
“You mean like being tied up in bed all night, and waking up all sore but still very helpless?”
“I’d adore that. I’ve dreamed of someone that would tolerate the squirming and wriggling around all night in my futile efforts to get comfortable. Just the thought of that kind of slow, delicious pain is making me wet.”
“C’mere, let me see.”
Janey got up and stood in front of me while I put my hand on her crotch. Sure enough, she wasn’t soaking, but she was wet. Her lips were hot and very sensitive to my touch.
“Go back to kneeling on the bed. So, let’s explore this and expand on other ways to offer you enough slow-pain to find an endorphin rush. What about corsets?”
“Again, I adore corsets, the tighter they’re pulled around me the better.”
“I imagine standing and walking in high-heels, for long periods of time, is another form of this slow gradual pain for you.”
“Very much so. I told you I’m a shoe-whore, and all of the heels in here have at least a four-inch arch, if not higher. Everyone tells me it’s bad for me, and that I’ll suffer in years to come, but I look at it like a prize-fighter, training for the ring. Yea, it’s dangerous and hard on his body, but it’s something he loves to do, and the pain and wear and tear is something he needs to find and fulfill his goals. Wearing sky-scraper heels is part of my training regimen for the slow, subtle pain I love.”
“Like I started to tell you earlier, when you made me stop to tell you about my ideas of masochism, I’m very oral. Along with an insane need to suck cock as often as I can get a dick in my mouth, I love big, mouth-filling gags. I’ll gladly wear a penis-gag for hours and give someone the best head they can imagine as soon as they take it out and replace it with a warm, pulsing flesh hard-on. And after swallowing every last drop of cum, I’ll happily open my mouth for the penis-gag again. Yea, I’m a freak. You’ll see. Just give me a chance. I can’t wait to have my arms tied tightly behind my back and show you just how good of a cocksucker I am.”
“I suppose this streak of masochism extends to extreme bondage positions, like reverse-cross ties, and reverse-prayer positions?”
“Yes, please, and keep my arms tied like that for a long time, please?”
“So, no impact play, but joint-straining endurance bondage makes you anxious and wet. Anything else?”
“Sir, there are a few exceptions. I don’t like a steady diet of it, but occasionally, I like to be slapped around, especially if I’m bound and gagged. And while we’re talking about it, squirming around and grinding against a tight crotchrope while someone spanks my butt can excite me, but again, I wouldn’t like a steady diet of that. Just every once in a while. Is that okay with you?”
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m a bondage-dom. Okay, c’mere.”
I untied her wrists and had her put on two pairs of support pantyhose. Once she got them smoothed out and evenly stretched on her legs, I had her pull the panty sections down so I could tie on a crotchrope. Using a piece of the 3/8th” nylon rope I tied this rope around her waist, through her pussy lips and back through, knotting it in front. Then she pulled the pantyhose back up and over this.
Moving her over to the stripper pole so she had something over her head to grab onto, I showed her how tight a corset could be tightened with torso extension. The corset was black with a maroon brocade. As I tied off the long ends, I got the typical, “Oh my God, I can barely breathe.”
“Which catsuit is tighter, the vinyl one or the Pleather?”
“The Pleather one. I like that one better anyway.”
“Wriggle into it and replace those four-inch heels for higher ones.”
“Sir, I have a pair of red pumps with a 5½” arch on a stiletto peg. They look really good with this catsuit.”
“Sounds good. Do you have any latex gloves?”
“In the bathroom, under the sink.”
When I was rooting around, I found some Breathe-Right strips and added one to the gloves and earplugs I found. Back in her bondage studio I got a pair of red satin gloves out of the drawer and had her put them on under the sleeves of her catsuit. Adding the latex gloves over the satin ones, I taped her fingers together with electrician’s tape, folded them over and taped each hand into a ball making sure to tape her thumbs down. Janey examined these carefully as I backed her over to the pole. Pulling her hands behind the pole, I tied them palm-to-palm with a piece of her red rope.
With more red rope I tied her ankles together. Admiring the red heels she’d put on for me, I tied them on her feet using some black rope, with wraps going just above her toe-cleavage, crossing over her insteps to the cinch on her ankles, under each peg and connected back up to her ankle ropes. Wide wraps of red rope went around her calves, just above her knees and around her upper thighs. Each of these wrappings was cinched for tightness and secured back to the pole. With red ropes crossing between her breasts, I tied a secure chest harness around her arms, above and underneath her tits, making sure that every one of the ropes was cinched to the other one. With one last rope I tied her upper arms together as close as they would go. Her elbows couldn’t touch, but they got close enough to put a real strain on her arms.
Janey had been fading into subspace since the ropes started to go around her legs, and she was lost in her own little world as I welded her torso to the pole. Plugging her ears and putting the strip on her nose did nothing to bring her back to the world I was in. I tested several scarves until I found the right size to fill her mouth and cheeks. I used a wide roll of Vet-Wrap to start her head bondage, with layers going over her lips, and around her head. I pulled these wrappings as tightly as I could get them, pushing her wadding a little further in and giving her a bit of a cleave-gagged look. Easing up on the tightness once she was thoroughly gagged, I finished off the roll encasing her whole head. I started a second roll just to make sure the layers around her head were thick enough. Using gray tape, I made wraps around her lower face, and over her eyes, taking the wraps around the pole to hold her head back.
Stepping back, I examined my bondage captive, paying thorough and specific attention to each and every wrap I’d used to tie her to the pole. I decided to loosen the rope around her upper arms. I did not take this rope off though. I just loosened them enough to allow her better circulation. Her inability to move was not affected by my consideration.
Watching her try and shift her stance enough to accommodate her bound feet amused me. Janey was not used to this enforced restraint of her feet. To add another layer to her frustration, I used a short rope to tie the pegs of her shoes back to the pole. This made her feet absolutely immobile.
Now it was time to start her torture. Finding a thin rubber band, I held my fingers in a ‘V’ and pulling the rubber band back between them like a tiny slingshot, I started snapping her, all over. None of these snaps were particularly painful, but over time they were amazingly annoying. Especially when she couldn’t move away from them. Making her jerk in her helplessness with every snap just focused her mind on how very helpless she actually was. I wasn’t in a hurry doing this either. There was no rhyme or reason to my pattern of snaps. I had all night and all of her body to abuse. Occasionally, I would start groping her body in a sexual way and then stop. With no stimulus for long moments she would never know if her next sensation was my hands, which she liked, or the snap of the stinging little demon.
Throughout this entire time though I noticed two things. One was that her nipples were flinty hard and poking proudly through the catsuit, and when I got close to her crotch, it reeked of excited woman. When I would grab it with my hand, it was noticeably hotter than other parts of her body, and even through everything, she was damp and super sensitive.
Gnawing on her neck as I pinched her nipples and played with her pussy made Janey cum. Her body spasmed against the ropes, but barely moved due to the restrictions of her bondage. I let her calm down for a few, testing her sensitivity with my fingertips, and then did it to her again. After this orgasm, I checked the ropes because her spasms had been significantly more energetic.
Going over to her nightstand, I found a vibrator, and some nipple clamps. Her moan through her gag was audible as the clamps pinched her over sensitized nipples, and her screams, trying to tell me that she was too sensitive for another orgasm were frantic as I applied the vibrator. Her pleading screams, muted as they were, fell on deaf ears. Whenever I decided to untie her, I would remind her of her own definition of bondage.
Letting her stand there on her heels for another hour or so, I did a long slow mental inventory of her bondage room, figuring what I would do to her next. Sensing it was time to release her, I started with her head bondage, bringing her senses back to this reality. Janey’s head drooped in her exhaustion, but with a sip of water through the straw I offered her, Janey started coming around.
“How long, …”
“Hours. Are you alright?”
“More than alright, I’ve been reborn. I’ve found a man, a master that understands what it takes to make me feel again. It’s been so very long; I didn’t dare to believe I could feel alive again. I feel so wonderfully used. I ache, everywhere, but it’s a delicious pain and I am trying to cherish it while I can, because I know it’s going to fade. Will you, - - - can you do that to me again?”
I cupped her face with my left hand and slapped her with my right. Not hard, but enough to sting. Then I kissed her, groping her tits. Pulling off her nipple clamps, she moaned but leaned in as far as she could for another kiss. We necked like this for a long time, and then with my mouth buried in her neck, my left hand mauled her tits and my right played with her pussy lips over the crotch-rope until she came, again. The look in her eyes was feverish, with a touch of madness, knowing she was totally helpless to whatever I wanted to do to her.
Untying her legs but only adjusting her torso bondage for the movement I wanted, I pushed her slowly down on her knees. I unzipped my pants, took them off and let her envelope my dick deeply into her mouth. Standing relatively still and letting Janey do the work, I learned that she really was a talented and enthusiastic cocksucker. Her tongue was adept at finding the right nerves to make my dick swell and pulse with passion and other than coaching her on the amount of suction I enjoyed, her lips and tongue took me to a wonderful place as I shot my load down her throat. She never gagged as she deep-throated me, and the tiny sounds coming from deep in her throat were unmistakably happy sounds.
Untying her completely, I helped her out of her catsuit. The satin gloves and her corset went too, but the pantyhose stayed on, along with her crotchrope. After making out with her on the bed, I gauged her enthusiasm and decided on what we would do next. Her eyes were bright as I started handing her another outfit. Janey was still riding a high from her pole bondage.
A very sheer, long sleeved black bodysuit went on first, and got her mauled a little because I liked the texture. Her corset was snugged up around her waist again and Janey ran her hands over her torso enjoying the feelings. Finding a variety of HottSkirts in her collection I had her put on a mid-thigh black one. Next came a pair of black boots with a six-inch spiked heel. These boots laced up the front and after adjusting the laces, she zipped them up on the side and holding her legs out, one at a time, she admired their fit.
Standing her up I pulled her arms behind her back and tied her forearms closely together with back rope. More black ropes tied her upper arms close together and a harness behind her neck and under her armpits made sure these elbow ropes wouldn’t slide down or loosen.
Going to her closet, I pulled out her lightweight hooded cape, draped it around her shoulders and tied the satin sash off with a nice bow in front. Her eyes were wide as I guided her toward her door.
“Sir, we can’t go out like this. What if one of my neighbors sees me like this? Please, Sir, this is just too embarrassing.”
“First off, I know your perceptions are a bit skewed, but it is 3:30 in the morning. We played for quite a while. Time flies and all that, but I think we’ll be fine for a short stroll around the block. Now, the question is, would you like to converse with me on this midnight stroll, or should I gag you?”
“No, please don’t gag me. I’m terrified we’ll run into one of my nosy neighbors, and if I can’t even say ‘Hi’ to them, well, - - - no, please don’t gag me. Please? Pretty please. I’m begging you.”
“Well, let’s go then. You can tell me what you thought of our first session. I’m always interested in feedback.”
As soon as the door was closed behind us, Janey asked, “Are there ways to gag me so that no one would know I’m gagged?”
“I can think of a couple. Why? Are you feeling more adventurous all of a sudden? Should we go back in, get you gagged so all you can do is hum and then continue our stroll around the block? Is the idea of being even more helpless turning you on a bit?”
“You know what they say Sir, in for a penny, in for a pound. Will you gag me Sir for our walk?”
Taking her back in, I used another scarf to wad into her mouth, making sure that she could close her mouth over this wadding and keep her lips together. From a roll of four-inch micro-foam tape, I cut a strip that would go over her lips and from cheek to cheek. I cut another piece that would go under her chin and up each cheek to make it difficult for her to open her mouth. Once these two pieces were smoothed into place, I got in her make-up drawer and smeared foundation make-up over the tape, blending it smoothly into her complexion. Getting a red marker from her desk, I drew a pair of lips over the now flesh colored tape. When I was done, I pulled her hood up and we went back out into the chill morning air. By this time, it was a little after 4:00, so I felt secure in the fact that we’d be alone. Most if not all of the drunks would be in by now, and it was still too early for the paper boys to be making their rounds. Janey was hesitant but walked beside me.
By the time we made the first corner, Janey’s nerves were under control. I could tell by her gait that our adventure was easier for her to accept. Not being able to object helped, and after all, she really couldn’t do much about it, tied and gagged the way she was. We walked in silence, absorbing the sounds of the night. A couple of dogs barked, but they quieted down quickly enough. The clacking of Janey’s heels was the only real noise we made. Enjoying myself, we made another lap of the block and then went back up the driveway and into her backyard. It was small, like most trailer court yards, but it was fenced off from her neighbors.
Finding a cushion on one of her chairs, I threw it on the ground and had her kneel down. After crossing and tying her ankles together, I pulled the tape off, let her expel the wadding, and unzipped my pants. I was a bit more long-winded this time, but Janey got her treat, and the sky was just starting to pink up as we went back inside. Her first endeavor was not a fluke. I was now in possession of a genuine, bondage loving cocksucker. I smiled.
Stripping Janey down completely, we went into her bedroom for some sleep. I tied her arms in a reverse-cross, with tight ropes above and below her tits, cinched properly to hold her arms in place. I found a nice pair of five-inch come-fuck-me-pumps and tied them on her feet along with tying her ankles together. A wide wrap of rope was cinched and knotted around her calves. With another scarf wadded up and stuffed into her mouth, I used the micro-foam tape to make three tight wraps around her head to hold the wadding in place. Then I took my clothes off and crawled into bed. I held her for a while, but I passed out long before she fell asleep.
As predicted, Janey bounced around, wriggled back and forth and flopped from side to side trying to get comfortable. This kept me awake. I knew she was wound up from finally finding what she’d dreamed of for so long, but I wondered just how much rope I had to wrap around her to give the beast inside of her some rest.
Finally, I got up, cocooned her in her quilt, tied a couple of ropes around her to hold my burrito together, and then carefully tied a non-slip leash around her neck and to one of the bedposts. Another rope anchored her feet to the other end of the bed, and I blindfolded her with a sleep-mask and more of the Vet-Wrap. She still seemed restless, so I rolled onto my side and threw a leg over her. This quieted Janey down enough for me to get a couple hours of sleep. I think she got some sleep too, but I was too tired to check.
Unwrapping my still squirming burrito got me an enthusiastic response. With her legs now free of ropes I used my morning hard-on to sate a lust that had been developing since the day before. Unable to see or articulate words, Janey clearly communicated that she wanted to be taken like this just as much as I wanted to take her. Blowjobs were good, but I’m still old-fashioned enough to enjoy morning coitus, especially when my partner had been bound and gagged for a significant amount of time. Somehow, I find it more pleasing.
Peeling the ropes off of her she stumbled into the bathroom with my help. With the tape and the Vet-Wrap off, we both took a long hot shower. Massaging her shoulders was part of the soapy fun we enjoyed.
“I am so sore, but I love you so much for giving me that gift. I haven’t been this happy in, - - - hell, I can’t remember being this happy. Did I tell you I love you? Other than breakfast, what can I do to please you? How would you dress your slave this morning, or afternoon, I guess? I do so want to please you, so you’ll do that to me again.”
With a basic foundation of a corset, nude support pantyhose and of course a crotchrope, Janey put on a Bavarian beer-maid costume, consisting of a square-cut peasant blouse, lacey waist cincher, a very short flouncy skirt, white lacey forearm sleeves, sheer white lacey ankle-socks and black Mary-Janes sporting a five-inch spiked heel. Janey looked cute in that outfit.
After fixing us a hearty breakfast, I tied her wrists and arms behind her back, had her kneel beside my chair and fed Janey her portion of our breakfast by putting a bite in my hand and holding it down for her to eat. Thoroughly enjoying her submissive role Janey wagged her tits back and forth while she chewed and swallowed, smiling brightly when she could.
“You make being on my knees before you a delight. Could you do me a favor please?”
“Please start tightening up my elbow bondage each time you tie me. I love how it feels being tied this tightly, and I want to feel even more helpless in your ropes. I know it will take time but having them touch would be so delicious.”
“I’ve already started doing that. You’re right, it’ll take a while but before you know it, you’ll feel your forearms pressing against each other as you squirm in my ropes.”
“I love you. You are everything I could have imagined in a master.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Neither one of us have had a shitty day that brings out the darker side lurking in each of us.”
“You’re right, but I’m just so happy all I’m seeing is rainbows, butterflies and unicorns. I am so glad that I called you and showed you my tits. Did they sell the deal?”
“No, actually it was a very naked woman showing me a room full of her hopes and dreams that sold me. I like enthusiasm, and I like your submission. So, after I untie you and you clean up in here, meet me in your room full of dreams and I’ll make you helpless enough to dream dreams of submission.”
It wasn’t long before my beer-maid was helplessly trying to squirm around on the chair I’d tied her to. Janey’s tightly tied arms were over the back of this chair. She had chosen this chair because it was sturdy enough to really squirm around in, and her arms fit comfortably over the back.
Her legs were crossed at the knee and tied so that she had no chance of uncrossing them. One ankle was tied off to both of the chair legs on one side and the leg crossed over her knee was similarly tied off to both the front leg of the chair and anchored to the back leg. Another rope went over her thighs just above her knees, and this uncinched winding was attached to the chair with guy-ropes to avoid any shifting. Another wide winding of rope went over her lap and this one too was anchored to the chair with short ropes tied off to the chair. Janey’s body was tightly webbed to the back of the chair with what some might consider an excess of rope. Between the corset and the ropes around her torso, Janey had trouble taking deep breaths. Even her bound wrists were tied off to each side of the back of the chair and to the bottom wrung. If I spotted any way she could move, in any direction, no matter how slight, I tied short ropes to her existing bondage to remove any hope of escaping, or even moving.
“Your attention to detail amazes me. There’s no way I can move, much less wriggle around. May I ask a question?”
“During this get-acquainted period, you can always ask questions. I may not always answer them, or I may answer them in an oblique way, but we are getting to know one another, so ask away.”
“Why do you tie my high heels on?”
“Several reasons actually. The most important reason is that I like to. Now, one of the reasons I like doing that is that in my opinion, women wear high heels to draw a man’s attention, so he thinks she is prettier. Personally, I don’t feel any woman would wear skyscraper heels without trying to impress someone or another. Now, if a woman kicks off her heels as soon as she’s able to, it tells me that she no longer cares what I think, and on some level, she doesn’t want to feel pretty anymore. So, because I like the look of a woman in heels, I tie them on her feet. Now, another reason is a pet peeve. Have you ever, or at least seen a woman dangle one of her high heels on her toe, half on and half off of her foot? That was rhetorical, of course, because everyone’s seen that at one time or another. From some deep dark recess in my mind, that pisses me off. I’ve tried to figure out why, but some ugly memory that I’ve buried deep in my subconscious tells me that I do not like seeing a woman do that with her shoe. If I tie that shoe on, she can’t do that, and I’m a happier camper. The next reason is that over the years I’ve found that women respond favorably to my attention to detail. Any chance to touch a woman as I make her helpless pleases me and usually makes the woman happy with the attention I’m giving her. And finally, the symmetry of ropes delineating the curves of a woman’s foot in a high heeled shoe pleases me on an esthetic level, like the beautiful lines of certain architectural structures. Understand now?”
“Wow, you’ve really thought this out, haven’t you? Is there anything else I should know that’s a pet-peeve of yours?”
“Now that we’re talking about it, I’m not fond of mule-shoes, and I absolutely hate flip-flops.”
“It’s the slapping sounds those shoes make against a woman’s heels with each step she takes. Again, it pisses me off. Now, as you know, pumps are slip-on shoes too, but they don’t slap against your heel with each step you take. If they do, the shoe isn’t sized properly. I prefer a shoe sized to a woman’s foot and held on by that sizing or with straps of some kind. Does that make sense?”
“Noted. No mules, flip-flops or dangling my shoe off the tips of my toes. Anything else while we’re on the subject?”
“I know it’s not really an issue with you, because you seem to love being helplessly tied, but Houdini-subs piss me off. If you want to be tied up, then stay tied up. If you want to play escape games, be up front about it. It is a game of sorts, pitting your flexibility and dexterity against my skills as a rigger, so tell me ahead of time and let the games begin.
Giggling, Janey said, “There’s not much chance I could ever escape from your ropes, even if I wanted to. You give a woman no chance at all. None. So, is there anything else I should know about your darker side?”
“I know they have their place, especially in cold weather, but I’m not a fan of pants. I prefer dresses and skirts. In my mind it makes a woman look more feminine. Now, short-shorts, Daisy Dukes and disco shorts I like because they show a lot of leg. With legs like yours, you should show them off all the time, never hiding them under pants or slacks.”
“You like my legs? I think they look fat, especially through the thighs.”
“When I tie you, do you notice and appreciate the way I touch, stroke and grope them?”
“Yes, I love that.”
“Being a man of few words most times, that should tell you I like them, especially when you wear hosiery. My hands send good signals to my brain when I touch you, so show more leg for me.”
“May I remind you that so far, you’re the one that’s been picking my outfits for me to wear. As much as I love that you do that for me, it does take the choices out of my hands to show you more leg,” and Janey laughed.
“Point taken. Yes Janey, I like your legs. I think they’re sexy. I like touching them, tying them, playing with them and most of all, looking at them, especially when you wear hose and heels for me, and they are not fat.”
“Speaking of hosiery, why do you insist on me wearing support pantyhose. Don’t you like the softer silkier ones?”
“One, I like the feel of them. I imprinted early on that texture and it makes me smile running my hands over them. Secondly, the compression adds to the effect of bondage. That’s why I’ll occasionally have you wear two pair of support pantyhose. And lastly, I hate runs. Support pantyhose are much more durable than the $50.- dollar-a-pair silky ones that run if you sneeze on them. I like groping a woman, and like I said, I hate runs.”
Janey laughed, and then started fighting her bondage for all she was worth, really straining against the ropes. After several minutes of totally futile struggles, she smiled, satisfied that she could never escape from my ropes.
“Sometimes a woman just has to assure herself that she is totally and helplessly tied. Thank you. I love the way you tie me. I am so very helpless and completely under your control. I love that feeling. You exceed all of my fantasies about a bondage dom. You’re an excellent rigger. Please do more.”
“Well, as Monty Python used to say, ‘And now for something completely different’. Ever had your hair brushed when you were totally helpless?”
“Oh my God, I’ve haven’t had my hair brushed by someone else since I was a little girl at home. Are you really, …?”
I got her hairbrush from her bedroom and started to slowly and rhythmically brush out her hair. Janey purred.
“I have got to find ways to keep you. I don’t know what makes me feel more helpless and under your complete control, the bondage, or you brushing my hair like this. If I wasn’t putty in your hands before, I am now. Submission to you will never be a chore. It will be a labor of love.”
“Listen, I like the way you dress up for me, making yourself all pretty for me, so this may not be on the daily menu, but when you please me, I can do little things like this for you.”
Laughing, she exclaimed, “Little things! My God Sir, this will put a smile on my face for months to come. Could you be more perfect?”
“I guess you’ll just have to see. Now that your hair is all shiny and parallel, I’m going into the kitchen for a few. Don’t wander off while I’m gone.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” and she giggled.
I went in and used her espresso machine to make us both a mug of thick strong go-go juice, heavily sweetened for the sugar buzz. I brought a straw for Janey, and went back in to see her sitting there, right where I’d left her. She was smiling. Her eyes got wide when she saw the two mugs.
“I couldn’t think of any place I’d rather be than in here with you, so I just relaxed and sat here waiting to see what you’re going to do to me next.”
“Well, after I get you all jacked-up on caffeine, I intend to blindfold you and then give you another little treat.”
“What? No gag? I’m already feeling deprived,” and she giggled again.
As I held the straw up to her lips I said, “Just wait. You might like this.”
After tying on one of those thin leather blindfolds with the nose hole in it, I kissed her, groped her braless tits and then went out to retrieve my laptop from my car. I got her password to get on her home network and then scrolled through my favorites to find Gromet’s bondage stories, at boundstories.net. (shameless plug). Choosing one of my favorites, I started reading to her.
“Oh Sir, are you really going to read me a bondage story?”
Stopping my narrative, I said, “Yep”, and then I went back to reading someone else’s story about a damsel in distress, getting bound and gagged. Janey could not hide the shiver that went through her, even though you had to be paying attention to her to see it.
When I finished it, I asked, “Makes it better when you’re tied and blindfolded, doesn’t it?”
“You make me so happy. I love you. My body is vibrating from the caffeine, but my shivers are from pure lust for you, Sir. Please Sir, may I have another? I’m a greedy little girl who is giddy in love with what you do to me.”
Janey’s head lolled back as I read to her, and her smile was the smile of a sated woman, happy and content with the world.
At the end of the second story, Janey asked, “Sir, may I watch you read to me, please? I love looking at you.”
“Sure, I accomplished my purpose with the blindfold. You still comfortable? Nothing going to sleep or losing circulation?”
“I’m more than fine Sir. Remember, I like stringent endurance bondage.”
“Just checking. When you’re not gagged, your safety and health is your responsibility. I check on you when you’re really helpless, but like this, it’s all on you. Got it?”
“Of course, Sir. If I wasn’t so unbelievably helpless, I’d ask, no beg for you to do more to me.”
“I guess I could make you a little more helpless. It’s not like I thrive on redundancy or anything,” and I chuckled.”
“How Sir? I can’t imagine how you could make me even more helpless, without adding a gag and blindfold again.”
Picking up a roll of electrician’s tape I went behind her and taped her fingers together.
“Now, if you try any of that Houdini shit, I’ll tape your thumbs down too.”
Janey’s laugh was delightful, so I found another story and let her watch me reading to her. After this story, we went back to Q&A time.
“Sir, what’s your favorite gag?”
“Wadding and tape. Why?”
“Aren’t ball-gags quicker and easier?”
“Yea, but they tend to make the woman drool, and even though that reinforces her total lack of control, it does nothing to enhance the feel of her tits as I grope them. You wouldn’t want to discourage me from doing that to you, now would you?”
“Sir, are there any gags I should discard from my collection?”
“Go ahead and keep the ball-gags. Sometimes they add to the visual effect. The same goes for any panel gags you have. Again, they are good for the visuals. You can throw any ring gags and spider gags out. I will never use them on you. I like some of the better pump-gags, if they have the right type of bladder. The cheap ones are just that, cheap and worthless. With your proclivities, penis-gags are keepers, although they can sometimes be droolers too, so I like the absorbent padding that goes over the lips. Cleave gags, with a mouth-filling wadding are good, but I hate Hollywood gags.”
“Thin pieces of cloth as a cleave gag, with no wadding, and the damned six by three pieces of gray tape over a woman’s mouth. We’re expected to believe that they will keep a woman quiet, and I hate that shit. Suspension of disbelief is one thing but these prima donna princesses in Hollywood want to act, so make their gags real, and for that matter their bondage too. They get realistic guns to shoot so they look all bad-ass and shit, so when one is needed for the storyline, give them real gags and believable bondage.”
“Really makes you mad, huh Sir?”
“Many of the riggers I know say the same thing. In fact, I measure the worth of someone that calls themselves a rigger on that exact subject. Macramé effetes and politically correct pussies abound and dilute the profession for the rest of us.”
“Well Sir, I love what you do to me. It’s good, solid bondage that is totally inescapable. Your ropes make me feel loved and appreciated.”
“Good to know. So, after I untie you, you’re going to feed me. If you don’t have enough meat and potatoes to feed a carnivore like me, we could go out to a restaurant, and then to a grocery. We may do that later anyway. I want to take you out on another adventure. Considering you don’t have a boss with morals to fire you, I like the idea of taking you out in public all tied and gagged. What’s the worst that could happen? It is consensual, and we are both adults. As long as we’re not being lewd in public, it isn’t against the law. Frowned on by the good God-fearing folk, but it’s not illegal. In fact, let’s get you dressed properly, pack a bondage bag, go eat out at a decent restaurant, get some supplies at Wally-world because it’s open 24/7 and then play on the way back here. I’ll gag you like last night, tie you up right there in the front seat, put your seatbelt on over your bondage and then we’ll drive around for a while.”
“Kind of like being tied up, kidnapped and taken away. I’m warming up to the idea, Sir. Right there in the front seat, huh? That sounds so naughty.”
“Okay, you’ll want to put on black pantyhose, two pair. We can always get more while we’re out tonight. No crotch-rope though. I’ll leave your corset on. I might loosen it a little, but I want you to get used to wearing one. Over time, I intend to narrow your waist for the esthetic value. Your tits and hips are delicious, but a narrower waist couldn’t hurt. I really like an hourglass figure. You do like wearing a corset, don’t you?”
“Yes Sir, I adore it. It’s just another layer of restraint.”
“Good. What kind of long-sleeved dresses do you have, preferably at least knee length?”
“I have several summer dresses that I didn’t leave in the fetish closet because I didn’t think they were sexy enough.”
“Any of them button down the front?”
“Several of them.”
“Good. Any more sheer bodysuits?”
“None in black, but I have them in nude and tan.”
“When we’re at Wally-world we can try to find another one. While we’re there, remind me to pick up more foundation make-up. I want you to wear four-inch heels into the restaurant but change into those boots you had on last night for your ride into public bondage. I’ll gag you and then use black rope to tie your legs while you apply the make-up. Then I’ll tie your arms in a box-tie behind your back and we’ll tour the country roads around here. Oh, and one more thing. I want you to insert that remote-control vibrating egg I found in your drawer, with fresh batteries in it. We can always pick up more batteries if we need to. And nipple clamps. Make us some more espresso for the road. I want you wound up nice and tight for this excursion.”
“Sir? What about a butt-plug?”
“Couldn’t hurt. Pick one that will keep you nicely stimulated.”
“Sir? I also have a vibrating butterfly. It isn’t remote controlled, but I could easily hide the controls under my skirt. I’ll be tied up, so the functions will be totally up to you.”
“Good idea. Now you’re getting into this. An egg up inside you, and a butterfly under your pantyhose. Both of those going at the same time ought to make your helplessness a little more interesting.”
“I have a blue summer dress that should hide the blue ropes I have, unless you think the black ropes would be better.”
“I’ll bring plenty of both just to be sure.”
During dinner Janey was as nervous as a dog on his way to the vet. When she started to space out, I’d flip the egg on for a couple of seconds, and whisper for her to focus. I did notice that she had an unconscious habit of touching herself.
When she caught me watching her, she whispered, “Sir, my nipples are so hard they ache.”
“Personally, I’m glad you paid the surgeon enough for you to keep your sensitivity. Always a plus for a woman as perpetually horny as you are.”
Janey blushed and giggled.
At Wal-Mart we strolled up and down the aisles making sure that we didn’t forget anything. Janey glowed, with a mischievous grin on her face, while she fantasized about what I was going to do to her. The night was cool, but we stuffed our perishables in cooler bags anyway and then found a deserted parking lot to prepare my bondage slut for her adventure. She put her boots on and ran her hands up her legs.
I kissed Janey, stuffed the wadding in her mouth and put the first piece of tape under her chin. Smoothing out the tape over her lips, I kissed her again over her gag and Janey shivered with excitement. She applied her foundation and drew her lips on with a marker we’d picked up. She assured me that this was a better color than whore-red. I agreed once she had applied it. I tied her ankles together with black rope, made wraps around her calves and lower thighs, cinching each wrap snuggly, but not too tight. Smoothing her dress down, I unbuttoned her upper buttons enough to reach in and apply the clover clamps I’d brought for the occasion. Janey moaned, but her eyes were wide with excitement. Using more of the black rope I tied a not too elaborate box tie on her arms and then pulled my dark jacket over her shoulders. The last thing I did was pull her seat-belt around her and snap it closed. Putting the car in gear, we drove off into the night. Janey sat up tall and proud, rubbernecking for any looky-loos that might see her. Finding nothing but dark, basically empty country roads, she eventually calmed down. At least until I flipped the egg on. Janey’s first orgasm came quickly. She was obviously excited. I turned it off while she calmed down and then reached down for the milder vibrations of the butterfly, on low. Janey moaned and stared at me, blushing furiously. To add fuel to her fires, I started telling her about what I had planned for when we got back to her place.
“Janey, my bondage slut and sexy slave, when we get back to your doublewide, the dress goes, but everything else stays. I intend to tie you on your knees, frog-style, in the living room in front of your TV. I’m going to re-tie your arms in front of you, hook up my laptop to your TV, and from my Gb memory, I’m going to make you watch some of my favorite bondage-porn.”
A very noticeable shiver ran through her, that could or could not have been an orgasm. I figured I’d check with her later. She couldn’t exactly discuss the issue at the moment. Being a sadist, I turned both the egg and the butterfly on high and made sure she had an orgasm. Even through the gag her pleas for mercy made me smile. I turned both off and let her rest for the next few miles. I had a nice caffeine buzz going and I could just imagine what her espresso was doing to her, bound, gagged and at my mercy.
When the gas tank was down to a quarter, I drove us back to her doublewide. I released her legs but made her walk in, arm bound and gagged. I brought the groceries in and put most of them away. I had decided on a slight change of plans on the way back. I stripped Janey down to skin, gag and all and told her to go and take out the plug in her ass and her egg. When she came back in, her blush was down her neck almost to her tits.
“So, I take it you had fun?”
“Sir, can we do it again tomorrow? All I could think about was how naughty it felt, and what would happen if we got caught. One of these days, I want to take a ride in the trunk, like a real kidnap victim. That would be so hot. Is your trunk big enough? Riding in the back of my SUV wouldn’t be the same. What if we rented a big car with a big trunk? You could pad it up a little and drive me all over the place, with me bound and gagged, bouncing around in a dark trunk. You’d have to go over lots of railroad tracks, just to make it more realistic. Maybe you could use zip-ties to tie me up and put a bag over my head, just like on TV. Wouldn’t that be cool. It would also be smokin’ hot. I’d be so wet that my pussy wouldn’t dry up for a week afterwards. Let’s make plans for that, please Sir. Pretty please?”
“And just yesterday you didn’t want to walk around the block. Obviously, someone got very excited tonight.”
“You mean you didn’t Sir?”
“No, sorry. I’ve played these games many times in the past with other women. It was kind of old hat for me. I got a thrill out of watching you. You always turn me on when you’re bound and gagged and seeing how turned on you are right now makes me smile, but you had more fun tonight than I did.”
“Oh Sir, I’m sorry, …”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad you had a good time tonight. If I didn’t want to expand your horizons, I never would have suggested this adventure. To be truthful, being a dominant rigger, I get off more on the planning and the successful conclusion of things like this. You had fun tonight, and that makes me happy. We will definitely talk about expanding our adventures, but not now. Right now, I have an assignment for you.”
“Yes Sir. What can I do to please you?”
“You’re a published author, living off your royalty checks while you write another best seller. Right?”
“So, I want you to put your boots back on, for inspiration, sit down at your desk and write about tonight, from your perspective. Apply your gifts as a wordsmith to tell the story of what it felt like riding around, bound and gagged on those dark country roads, helpless and at the mercy of a sadist with his finger on the remote controls of your vibrators. Choose a pen-name, and after I’ve read it, we’ll send it in to Gromet’s site for bondage stories and let someone else enjoy this enthusiasm that is bubbling up in you. I’m not going to tell you how to write it, or what to write about. You’re the author, so write.”
“Sir, I have one request, please.”
“And that is?”
“Tie my legs together while I write this. I want the inspiration. Please?”