A Game for Some

by Walt A.K.A. Xan

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© Copyright 2020 - Walt A.K.A. Xan - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; rope; tape; gag; oral; whip; cons; X

All characters are fictitious and any similarities to any persons, living or dead are purely coincidental.

Continues from

Part 7

Dressed like that was surely going to get her tied up and molested, but being the first day of our honeymoon, we were going to be playing the games we both loved anyway. I was just wondering where this was going. Telling me she had something special planned, after I fed her the breakfast that she’d made for us, she went in to change. I kicked back in the saloon and let her dress up for her little game. I had on jeans, western boots, a snap-closed western shirt and of course, my new white Stetson. Janey liked the cowboy look on me.

Janey came out wearing a white business suit consisting of her jacket and a pencil skirt that was tight but not quite hobble-skirt tight. Unbuttoned enough to show her impressive cleavage, her red, satin blouse popped, drawing the eye right to her chest. Red, six-inch, T-strap sandals and medium-brown hose rounded out this vision of feminine pulchritude. 

Wearing her clear lens glasses Janey looked quite studious and prim, in a sexy way. She twirled and posed for my approval. I noticed she had a soft-sided satchel over her shoulder.

Hooting and whistling I got off my bar stool and made lewd gestures with my hips, thrusting them in and out in the age-old symbol that communicated uncivilized desire. Janey got a huge smile on her face, laughed and minced her way towards me. I began to suspect that her skirt was tighter than it looked.

I showed my physical appreciation for her when she got close enough. Laying her satchel on the bar, she began pulling out paperwork, with those light blue covers that signified legal documents. My eyebrow went up. Janey started playing with my unwaxed mustache and giving me little kisses. She then picked up the remote and started recording these proceedings.

“Husband, we forgot to do all the paperwork yesterday. Please tie me up and read these before you sign one or the other of them.”

With her wrists and arms tied behind her back and her legs tied side-by-side at her calves and ankles, I lifted her up and sat her on the bar. Then I maneuvered her onto her belly, bent her legs up and hogtied her. Janey had laid an oversized red ball-gag on the top of her satchel, so after laying two bar towels under her to absorb the drool, I wedged it in between her teeth, buckled the main strap behind her head and the other strap under her chin. 

Adding wraps of rope around her insteps I took another rope, looped it through the strap and attached it to the wraps around her feet. I didn’t pull her head back too far, but she wouldn’t be able to lay her head down on the bar. Janey was already drooling, and her eyes were smiling. 

While I started to read these documents, I poured myself a shot of Blanton’s. Truth be told, although Pappy was wonderful, and heaven on the palate, I liked the nose that Blanton’s offered. Besides, I also liked the bottle. Sipping this expensive bourbon, I read through both documents twice. 

The first one stated that Janey would maintain all properties, monies and chattels that she had owned before our wedding, and that she was giving me anything and everything she made or acquired after our wedding. 

The second document surprised me. In legalese, it said that if I branded my mark on her body, searing my initials into her flesh, she would give me everything she owned and would earn in the future, as long as she maintained her status as my slave/wife. If I divorced her or released her from servitude, everything she earned after that would be solely hers.

Leaving her on the bar, I went in and got my laptop and my phone. I started to look up body branding, studying several different sites carefully. I knew that branding was becoming popular with the body modification folk. I had even videoed a ceremony for a couple when I was in LA, because they asked me to. I remembered that the woman healed up nicely and that she was very proud of her mark. After over an hour of research and setting up the best sites in separate tabs for easy access, I sent Sam a text.

[Sam, bring Beth. No emergency. Let yourself in. I’m studying and Janey’s hogtied. I need your resources.]

Within five minutes the two of them came storming through the door. Both of their fingerprints were stored so either of them could unlock and open our front, back and side doors. Sam looked worried, but when Beth saw the papers on the bar, she laughed, went over and started petting Janey.

Looking at them, I knew they had conspired on this, so I asked, “You knew about this Beth?”

“Yeppers,” and she smiled. “Our morning rides give us time to do real girl-talk, and this came up in a ride a couple of weeks ago. Janey wants more than a ring and a collar. They can be taken off. She says you’re already under her skin, so she wants you on her skin, too. You ‘are’ going to do this for her, aren’t you?”

Sam was busy reading the document I handed him, humming, nodding and sipping bourbon. His eyes were wide as he laid it down and looked at me.

“Yea, little miss ‘I only like certain types of pain’ wants me to ‘sear’ my initials into her flesh. I want to talk to a real doctor about the healing process, and I want your lawyers to tell me that it’s still a grey area of the law and that some bible-thumper hasn’t recently pushed through some legislation that would land me in jail. I’m too old for jail, and countries without extradition treaties are not high on my list of vacation spots. The jeweler that made her cameo could probably make the actual brand for me, that is if I don’t decide to go all freehand with a cauterizing tool. Can you help me with this?”

Beth popped up with, “Oh, Janey and I already checked with the lawyers and short of displaying it in church, which you don’t go to anyway, or posting the video of it on social media where kids could find it, no one should raise a fuss. Although after yesterday, the governor may try to use it as an excuse to get Janey away from you. She was literally all he could talk about last night.” and Beth laughed. Even through the ball-gag Janey giggled. Women know what they do to men. They do it on purpose.

“And what if I don’t want everything she owns?”

Beth stood there with her fists on her hips, glared at me, stomped her foot and said, “Damnit Bat, just give her what she wants. She doesn’t ask for much out of you. All she’s wanted up until now is for you to tie her up, tell her she looks pretty in what you tell her to wear, let her suck your dick, and for you to wear that stupid hat. Is the sadist in you wimping out now that you’re all married and shit?”

“No, certainly not. I would have given her a brand anyway, just because she wanted one. But I don’t need or want everything she owns. That was the issue. Not the branding. Let’s get a doctor on the phone, and then we’ll get some paper and pencils to doodle up some designs.”

Sam’s doctor talked to me for quite some time. She was familiar with this form of body modification. She walked me through the steps and said she’d have her nurse send me a complete list of the necessary tools and the proper procedures to follow, recommending that I follow them exactly. I thanked her and promised to bring Janey in so she could check on the healing process.

“Okay, looks like as soon as I can have the tool made, you’re going to get my mark branded into your hide.”

I untied the connection and took the big red ball-gag out, letting the bar towels catch all the drool. Beth continued to pet Janey and Sam poured more bourbon for the two of us.

“Thank you, husband of mine and my perfect Sir. And it’s not a stupid hat when it’s on your head. I think Stetsons make ‘you’ look very handsome and they bring out the rugged cowboy in your soul.”

“I hardly ever wore one before I started dominating you. If you can dress up for me, I can wear this for you.”

“Deal,” she said quickly and giggled. “Sis? Want to see the naughty nun footage from last night?”

“Yea,” and Beth smiled like a mischievous kid. Sam perked up and headed for the basement to get a copy on a thumb drive from our system.

Smiling, Beth asked, “Was he mean to you baby girl?”

“Yes! I loved it. Mr. Daemon came into her classroom and punished Sister Mary Jane for being mean to her students. We got so deep into our characters and it felt so real. You’ll see. I want to do it again, because now Mr. Daemon knows about the good sister’s secret proclivities, and just how slutty she can be. Maybe he’ll do more to her next time. I do have to clean my habit up a little. I kinda’ drooled all over it last night.”

“Does Sister Mary Jane need any supervision,” Beth asked with a twinkle in her eye? “You know, a Mother Superior must guide the nuns under her to do the right things at the right times.”

“Oh, this sounds like fun for me, and Father Sam of course,” I said. “He’s the parish priest. He’ll be getting some selfies of Sister Mary Naughty. I’m sure he’ll have to bring the Mother Superior with him to investigate her sinful behavior. Didn’t he have to release Sister Naughty from her ropes last night?”

“I’ll work on the storyline husband,” said Janey.

“I’ll have to get Vonny cracking on my habit, and a cassock for Father Sam. This does sound like fun. I’ll take your habit to Carla. I’m sure she’s got some special spray for ball-gag drool removal. You two go back to playing and Sammy and I are going to go watch your connubial cosplay.”

After collecting the nun’s habit and with a kiss, the two of them almost ran out of the saloon. I got up and locked the doors again. Untying Janey I set her down on the ground and started to undress her. When I pulled her skirt down, I had to look twice at her thighs. They were held together by an elastic girdle-like affair that zipped up and held her thighs tightly against each other. Now I knew why her gait had been so inhibited. 

Giggling, Janey said, “This is something Vonny and I worked up for when I wanted to feel like I was wearing a hobble-skirt but wanted the skirt to look more normal. It’s very restrictive. Just a touch of self-bondage. I love it.”

I unzipped it and finished taking all of her clothes off her. After retying her arms behind her I took off my boots and jeans so I could get my morning blowjob. This made my little cocksucker a happy little girl. Untying her again, I made her get some copier paper and pencils. 

While she did that, I called my jeweler in California and asked if he could and if he would make a brand for me. Not being his first rodeo, he said he could and would and that the price would depend on how complicated it was. He asked if I had a design yet and I told him that Janey and I were just sitting down to design it now. We agreed to get back in touch when we had something more than an intention. All the while I was talking to him Janey was smearing her tits all over me, petting me and making cute little ‘I’m happy’ noises. I did not object.

Naked and short, Janey crawled in my lap as I played with the designs I wanted. Amorous, but not very helpful, I decided that she needed to be my inspiration. For her sins of being adorably cute, wriggly, giggly, squirmy, delightful, and making me crazy just looking at her, Janey got ball-tied on the table I was using. Wide wraps of ropes went under her thighs and over her back, holding her bent over and squashing her tits into the tops of her thighs. More ropes bundled her legs up to seal them against her thighs. 

Half the fun of a ball-tie was pushing the ropes through the ever-decreasing spaces between her body parts and tickling the skin as you did. Cinches pulled everything snug and Janey ended up on her knees in the center of the round table. I pulled her arms behind her and tied them close, but not fully together. She was still very helpless with anchor ropes connecting her arm bonds to the rest of the ropes covering her body and holding everything in a nice, tight little ball.

“This is fun husband, but could you do me a favor, please?”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Considering I’m all nakey, and not wearing anything that will stain, except for the ropes of course, and considering I’m beginning to really love the slow-pain that big ol’ ball-gag gives my jaws, would you kiss me, and then shove it my mouth and buckle it tight? Please?”

“I can do that. I never liked ball-gags much because of the drool factor but catering to your newfound enjoyment of them is not a problem. They may not be my first choice to use, but like now, if you want one, just ask. It will always be my choice as to what I gag you with, but that depends on the overall look I’m wanting to see on you. It’s much like mismatched clothes. I enjoy the esthetics, and gags add into that. Let me shift you up on your butt, so you can drool all over those beautiful, squished tits I love so much.”

“You know, husband, I never looked at gags as articles of clothing and used them for the overall aesthetic. To me they were just something to chew on and to remind me that my rigger didn’t want to hear me talk. Gags actually save a woman a lot of grief, keeping her from saying the wrong things at the wrong time. In the past my mouth has gotten me in a fair amount of trouble, and around you I never want to piss you off by saying something in the spur of the moment that I’ll later regret. I love you too much, but my mouth sometimes works before my brain has a chance to filter my words.”

“I love that you admitted that. Most women never recognize the oral disconnect between what gets blurted out of their mouths and the filters that are necessary not to offend. And as a matter of fact, I can be forgiving of slips of the tongue from you. I love you too much to hang on unfiltered words. Besides, if it should ever happen too often, you will just wear a gag much more often. Gags do make articulating words much more difficult.”

Laughing, Janey said, “I can live with that my wonderful husband and master. I like this position. It’s different and fun.”

Touching Janey and enjoying the feel of skin and ropes, I said, “As much as I like dressing you up in ways that I think make you more attractive, I do enjoy your skin. I really am smitten with you. You make my brain light up.”

“Thank you, my husband. I just love the sound of that word now. In the past I was always a little leery of getting married, considering some of the specimens of men out there and their ideas of a wife being their chief cook and dishwasher. Fetching beers never appealed to me, but you make submitting to a man a joy, and something I look forward to doing each and every day.”

“You see, your filter is working just fine now,” and I laughed. So did Janey as she wriggled in her bondage and smiled. Stuffing the ball in her mouth and buckling it tight, after I kissed her, made her eyes twinkle. I sat down and went back to sketching out a design to mark her skin with. Staring off into space, waiting for the muse to wander through the swinging doors and hand me some inspiration ate up a lot of time.

“Janey, I want to emphasize that giving you something that means that much to you, i.e. branding you, was never the problem. Sadism, at least what I call rational sadism, is a tool in my box of BDSM tricks. It was the ‘giving me everything, in perpetuity’, that bothered me. 

I know that if I need anything, or just want something that you’ll gladly give it to me. I just don’t need a piece of paper telling me that it’s mine. I want you to use your money to buy heels, and clothes, and things you like. Dressing up in heels and sexy outfits does inspire me to give you all sorts of attention, so that’s a win/win. You earned it; so, spend it on stuff for you. I hope you understand. I don’t need much.”

Janey nodded, blowing little spit bubbles past her gag with each breath. More drool came out too. Her eyes were misty, but I could tell she was happy. I could also tell that this new bondage position was working her up sexually. I think she was trying to use just the bondage to make herself cum. She was quite helpless and looked good as a centerpiece. I went back to my sketches. Reaching up occasionally to poke, stroke, tickle or pinch her, I made sure that she didn’t feel like she was nothing more than a centerpiece. 

Considering my last name began with a ‘W’ I decided to honor her tits. Exposing them to me within the first few minutes of my arrival at her home, in an effort to get me to tie her up, gave them a special meaning for me. Besides, I liked playing with them. When writing ‘W’s, I’ve always written them like two joined ‘U’s, and not two ‘V’s. It is pronounced ‘double-U’ after all. Several people over the years have mentioned that the way I make my ‘W’s made them look like boobs. That made me smile. So, I decided to lay the ‘B’ on its side and incorporate the way I made my ‘W’s as part of the ‘B’. 

Janey was watching so I explained my reasoning to her, and she eagerly nodded. I think she liked my idea. When I got up to pour myself a congratulatory shot of Blanton’s, I heard the unmistakable sounds of a happy woman having an orgasm. I came back and petted her while she calmed down, and then started sipping my bourbon.

To my surprise, I heard my phone go off. Playing a segment of the song, “All Right Now’, the 1970 hit by the group ‘Free’. I knew this was Beth’s private ringtone, so I answered it.


“Bat, Carla’s drool removal spray worked wonders, and Sister Mary Naughty’s habit just came out of the drier. Carla’s starching and ironing that white bib right now. Can Father Sam, Sister Mary Nosy and an errant student come over and discuss Sister Mary Naughty’s continuing penance? We’ve got some ideas.”

“I like the fact that you asked, but it’s not like you haven’t seen Janey and me in several sexual situations before. You know you and Sam are always welcome. My slave/wife and I don’t have much to hide from you two. Were you protecting the errant student?”

“Of course. She may be legally able to buy booze, but she’s still a baby when it comes to the games we play, and at the level we play them. I don’t want to scare her off or leave a sour taste in her mouth. I like having a seamstress on the property and under contract. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t too deep into playing. It is alright with Janey, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask. Janey, do you have any objections to Sam and Beth coming back in and bringing Vonny with them? Apparently, they have some ideas for some more heresy and sacrilege.”

Janey lifted her head as much as she could and nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ve turned my new slave/wife into a centerpiece for my table, but she nodded that y’all coming over was okay with her. If this sacrilege gets her a smoother ride across the river Styx and into hell faster, she’s pretty much up for anything. You do realize we’re all going to hell for this. Right?”

Beth must have had it on speaker mode because I heard Sam in the background say, “Once we’re all in hell together, I’ll pour all of us some Pappy and you, me and Ol’ Scratch will toast our heresy. Be there in a few,” and the line went dead.

Leading the way, Sam came in with another bottle of Blanton’s. Beth had a bag that I later learned held sandwiches from Pete, and Vonny came in carrying a garment bag. She hung it up and came over to inspect Janey.

“Wow Bat, you don’t fool around do you? That’s like the tightest bondage I’ve ever seen, outside of pictures. I’ve never even seen a video of someone tied up that tight. Is she okay?”

Janey turned her head and nodded vigorously, making noises that with company, she’d like to be able to talk. I got more bar towels and eased that ball-gag out of her mouth.

“Honey, it’s not really tight at all. Restrictive, yes, tight, no. I am very helpless though and in fact, I just made myself cum all over this table, just from being this helpless. Sure, husband petted me before that, but he really did nothing to stimulate my orgasm, except to tie me like this. This is fun. I hope you get to experience this one day. I’ll bet good money that you’ll enjoy it.”

Vonny was running a finger under some of the ropes learning that they weren’t tight-tight, just secure and snug. There were just a lot of them all over Janey and all of them were connected to one another.

“Wow. I want to be like you guys. This is so hot. How many more hoops am I going to have to jump through before you’ll tie me up like this?”

“Go ahead husband,” said Janey. “I am right here, and you know she’s not going to be happy with you putting her off much longer. She may be young, but she’s still a woman. Tie her up like me. We’ll do bookends.”

“This is consensual, right Vonny,” I asked?

“Oh yes Sir. Very consensual and thank you. Do you want me to take my clothes off? I will if you ask me to. I got no problems with nudity if you guys don’t,” Vonny said, fingering the top button of her black dress.

“Yes, Vonny,” said Janey, smiling. “Please take your clothes off. You’ll appreciate how the ropes feel when they’re against your skin and not making your clothes bunch up as you wriggle around, plus it’s hard to make bookends unless you’re as naked as I am.”

As I was snugging up some of the last cinches, Sam started taking Beth’s clothes off of her. She didn’t seem to mind, so soon there were three women in ball-ties on the table, all facing in so they could look at one another. Sam poured me some bourbon and we sat down. 

Vonny was speechless, off in her own little world of helplessness. She was getting to play with the ‘big girls’, on their home turf.

“Everybody comfortable?”

I got two energetic nods, and both of them waited for a moment and then said, “Vonny,” at the same time. Snapping out of it, Vonny blushed all over and said, “Yes, yes, this is very comfortable. Way more comfortable than it looks. Bat, you really are good. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome. Glad you like it.”

With our feet propped up on the table, Sam made some very astute observations and recommendations.

Sipping his bourbon, Sam said, “If I would have known ahead of time that we were going to do this to them, I would have made the guys turn this table into a lazy-susan, and put some sort of huge vibrator under it, just to make them all giggle and squirm a bit more.”

Sipping my bourbon, I said “We’ll work on that,” with all seriousness, and then the both of us just broke up laughing, which was contagious enough to get the girls laughing too. They tried not to blush, but it didn’t work. 

Vonny took her cues as to what to do from her mentors, but soon she got into it on her own. Both Janey and Beth were enjoying themselves, and Vonny loosened up enough to just be happy with the situation. All three of them were comfortable, helpless and happy being tied like this.

“So,” I asked. “What were these ideas that you came up with to get us invited into a deeper level of hell?”

To our surprise, Vonny said, “You have to believe in heaven and hell first, before it really matters. I don’t, so this is just cosplay to me.”

“Do you have any specific religious beliefs Honey,” asked Janey?

“I believe that assholes get what they deserve, and that people that treat other people decently get rewards in this life commensurate with what they do to make other people’s lives better and happier. If there’s a specific religion that espouses those sentiments, I guess I’d join, but then again, I’m not much of a joiner. I got burned out with the hypocrites that dress up and go to church one day a week and never practice what they preach during the other six days.”

“I can deal with that. Sam,” Janey asked, “do you really believe in the whole heresy and sacrilege thing, and going to hell for this kind of play?”

“Janey my dear, I studied in college, actually taking a couple of extra anthropology courses on comparative religions. We are in the bible-belt here, and I wanted to be prepared. I won’t belabor the facts here and now with my learned views, but a lot like contemporary fashions, heresy and sacrilege is all in the eye of the beholder. Neither you, nor Beth have taken vows of chastity, celibacy or any of those other intentions glorifying self-abuse. So, this type of biased play is just and nothing more than cosplay. You’re not nuns, so we’re not actually breaking any religious tenets. We’re just spicing up our vivid imaginations for grins and giggles. It’s the whole suspension of disbelief thing.

“When I beat my lovely and wonderful slave/wife, I am not trying to injure her. I’m using my skills to give her the physical stimulation necessary to pump up the neurotransmitters that she enjoys. No sane human gets beat, for decades, and sticks around for more when they have every opportunity to easily escape from it. Does my friend ever hurt you Janey? No. He goes to great lengths to stimulate you in ways that heighten this suspension of disbelief between you so that the two of you can have more than just a little fun. 

“Some would consider the way he suggests that you dress as demeaning to you, your gender and your right to make up your own mind as to how the world sees you. How many of those sweatpants-and-Birkenstocks-wearing feminists have a man that loves them as deeply and makes them feel as happy as Bat makes you. He’s not just some male that you’re seen with and tolerate as a companion. With Bat you have passion. With Bat, it’s a fair trade, on both sides, for that passion that makes the both of you happy.”

Sam played the happy-go-lucky bourbon drinking rich gadabout, but few knew about or respected the mind driving him and what he does. Vonny’s eyes were wide, realizing there was actual depth behind Sam. He hid it well but Vonny was beginning to remember specifics about him that made a difference. 

At the barbeque, for example, Sam remembered not only the names of all of his powerful and influential guests, but of all the staff that helped him keep it running smoothly, making sure the little people didn’t feel like ‘little people’. He also tipped them well for a job well done, thanking each of them personally. Sam was one of the good ones, and smart too.

“We watched the multi-image raw feed from Sister Mary Naughty getting her come-uppance, and that was some good stuff,” said Sam. “We can edit that into something to be proud of. When Vonny brought over Beth’s habit and my cassock, we were still watching, and Beth gave her the highlights. So, Vonny, tell them what you told us.”

“My parents could never understand my rebellious nature, and odd ideas about the world. They were bible-thumping conservatives in the worst way. So, to ‘educate me’, they sent me out of state to a catholic conservatory school when I was going through the worst year of my teenage angst. The ‘good sisters’ there were the worst kind of child abusers, trying to fully warp the minds of their ‘charges’ into a ‘proper mindset’ using what I called physical and mental torture.” 

“I’ve been starved, locked in very small dark rooms, forced to do countless hours of meaningless and humiliating chores under horrendous conditions, screamed at, lectured to, lashed to my bed at night and to my desk in the classrooms, and besides being slapped, beaten with leather floggers, and hit upside of my head with the actual bible, there is nothing I hate worse than those eighteen-inch rulers.” 

“I made it seven-months before I escaped one night, and for a while I was on my own on the streets. I’ll never forgive my parents, and in my opinion, there is no lower form of life on the face of this Earth than a nun. Living on the streets after escaping, with all of the bad things that happen to skinny little teenage girls, like me, was a walk in the park on a sunny day compared to a nun trying to brainwash you into leading a ‘good life’.”

The vicious venom and vitriol spewing out of her shook all of us up. All of us knew she was serious, and although we were curious, none of us would ever make her relive the specifics of that time in her life. Our job now was to give her the love and family she needed to heal from wounds like those.

“That was a bit more than you told us in the other house but thank you for opening up to us darling. I just want you to know that we will never abuse you like that,” said Beth.

Suddenly Sam asked, “Vonny, I thought you told Jimmy that you dropped out of fashion school to tend to your sick mother?”

“Step-mother Sam. I was taken in by a woman when child-services got me off the streets and learned how young I was. Her kindness healed a lot of wounds in my soul and her death really tore me up. I had gotten my G.E.D. and started in at the UK’s fashion school. Cancer took her quickly when they diagnosed it, but the end was bad for her. It’s not fair when good people die in that kind of pain. I tried going back, but couldn’t concentrate, so I went out on my own again. That’s when Jimmy found me. I did some tailoring for him. He didn’t judge the goth look and we bonded as friends. He’s a good man Sam.”

“That he is. So, you want to play one of Sister Mary Naughty’s students that snaps and goes all nuts on her, right?”

“Yea, I got this little schoolgirl outfit, and I was thinking that as she starts to punish me, I could do something like hit her with a taser and as I’m tying her to a school desk, Bat could come in and show me how to do it right.”

“Uh, I really don’t want to have a taser used on me,” said Janey warily.

“Oh Janey, I’d never do that to you lady, but the sound of it crackling should be enough. We can hide it behind the habit, and you can just go down.” 

“I think we can make this work Sam. Why don’t we set this up in the studio? I still want to gnaw on this wriggling little bundle of woman-flesh for a few more days, but when I come crawling out for some sunlight from a vitamin-D deficiency we’ll work on this project. You know, we don’t have to have this set in a classroom, especially if we are going to introduce Sister Mary Nosy. I’m thinking about all the different backrooms of the religious, like rectories, and convents, not to mention places like the ever-ominous principal’s office, and gym locker rooms of course. What do you think?” 

“I think you may be onto something buddy. Ladies? Feedback, please.”

“As long as nobody uses a taser on me, and as long as I get tied up, gagged and abused by Mr. Daemon over there, or even Father Sam for that matter, well I’m in for the full ride,” said Janey all bright and bubbly.

“Sister Mary Naughty, maybe it wasn’t Father Sam that found you in the classroom and released you? It could have been me, your Mother Superior. I’ve got to come up with a better name than Sister Mary Nosy. Any ideas Sweetie?”

“Uh, right now all I can think about is how good this feels, and if I can work myself up into another orgasm just from the ropes. I’ll work on other things later, but oh, this feels so good. Husband did a really good job.”

“I’m with Janey. This feels so good, so completely secure, without cutting off my circulation, that I’m wondering if I can get off too,” said Vonny?

“Beth,” I asked, “what about you?”

“Well, this is fun, but to get me going, I’d need a blindfold, maybe a good gag and at least some nipple clamps. Sammy? Any interest in molesting me?”

“If I said ‘no’ I…”

“Stop. Just stop,” said Beth in a firm voice. “That’s Bat’s catchall phrase. Come up with one of your own. Give me a yes or no Sammy. You have a captive audience here, that is listening and waiting to be played with.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Sam disappeared into the basement to get some supplies. While he was gone, I watched the incredulity on Vonny’s face.

“Honey,” whispered Beth, “Sam is a great guy, but sometimes he thinks he’s funnier than he is. His sense of humor overrides his brain, and you just have to smack him upside the head with a 2x4 to reboot him. Never forget that we love each other and have been doing this for decades. To us, what you just heard is the same thing as reminding your partner to take their vitamins.”

Vonny’s eyes were still huge and round as Sam came back in with an armful of gear. He handed me some and then started to work on Beth. Vonny just stared, watching the ‘big girls’ play.

Wrapping a long single-tail around Beth’s neck, garrote-style, he let the ends drape down her back. Moving her hair back he put in earplugs, added a Breathe-Right strip and shoved an inflatable penis-gag in her mouth. He played with the inflation until he put just the right strain on her mouth and jaws, and then he used two full four-inch rolls of Kerlix gauze to encase her head.

While he was doing that to Beth, Janey got her favorite penis-gag shoved in her mouth, and I was busy buckling all the straps that encased her head, holding the padded panel harness in place. She was making happy sounds.

Sam was busy putting nipple clamps on his slave/wife and then started pinching up her skin and putting some tiny little clothespins wherever he could. I knew these to be nasty little biters, despite their innocent looking size. A good Dom always checks things on himself before using them on his submissive, and these pinched. Hard. Because they were different colors it wasn’t too long before Beth looked like some op-art porcupine. 

I looked at Vonny and said, “She’s a masochist, of the highest order. The woman has a high capacity for loving pain, given by someone she knows is not trying to abuse her. Abusing her will get you shot in painful places. I know she wouldn’t kill you. She’d just wound you to make you suffer. Whether you know it or not, Sam has trained her to be an excellent shot, and she’s taken down all sorts of game, so killing a living thing is not something she’d shy away from. With that whip around her neck, I’ll bet long odds that after she makes herself come from the restrictive position and the pain, he’s going to pop each and every one of those off of her. By the way, holler if you need to be released.”

“Sir, this may be very restrictive, but it’s a comfortable position. I can stay tied like this for a long time. Is this how you usually play?”

Just then Janey came. She shook and spasmed as her orgasm wracked through her body. Vonny was all eyes and her mouth was open. I went over and petted my Janey as the aftershocks went through her and she calmed down. Gnawing on her neck got a strong reaction out of her and I wondered if she’d popped off another small one.

Sam was getting creative. He was busy prying Beth’s toes apart and applying these nasty little biters to the flesh between her toes. Vonny kept staring and mouthing, ‘Oh my God’, over and over again.

“If you’re not familiar with pinching clothespins, they hurt for a few seconds going on, then the endorphins kick in and you tend to forget them. That is until some sadist takes them off of you, and then the blood rushing back into the area that was all pinched-up lights up those nerve endings and it usually hurts worse taking them off than it did putting them on.”

“Oh my. It does?”

“Yep. Knowing exactly what he’s doing to a woman’s body is job-one for a good sadist. Giving pain without injury is an artform. Sam is a technical and talented artist, and Beth has been his willing canvas for a very long time.”

“Wow! I never knew.”

“Few do. Feel honored. Not everybody gets a front row seat. And while we’re waiting for her to bring herself to orgasm, I thought you said you liked to try and escape from bondage?”

Blushing again from embarrassment, Vonny whispered, “I already tried. You put all the knots so far out of reach there’s no chance I can pick one open to loosen this bondage and wriggling free is out of the question. No wonder Janey loves your ropework. You don’t give a girl any chance at all to escape.”

“Yep, that’s my job. Submission is always rewarded and reinforced, in the best way possible, with the correct application of ropes. Hope you like it.”

“Oh, I do Sir. I really do. I still have good circulation, but there is no way I can escape. This is what I always dreamed bondage was like. Thank you, Sir.”

“You are most welcome. Would you care to feel a bit more helpless?”

“I’m not sure how, but okay, sure, go for it.”

I used some Kerlix gauze and wrapped her hands, fingers and thumbs so she had no chance of using them for anything.

“Oh my God, Sir, this is, like, it’s …”

Stealing her thunder Janey came again, and as if on cue, so did Beth. Both Sam and I hugged and petted our women and then just kicked back waiting for it to happen to them again. Naturally, Sam went to the bar and poured us more sipping bourbon. Before long Beth started moaning first, shaking and wriggling and then the two of them had a simultaneous orgasm, again. Vonny didn’t seem to believe it but stared anyway.

Sam took the whip from around his slave/wife’s neck, used some air cracks to check his aim and then started popping the tiny clothespins off. There were some he couldn’t reach with the whip, so he would just take them off by hand. The effect was the same. Beth felt the considerable pain in the smallest of areas, and she moaned into her gag. Between the occasional cracks of the tip of the whip breaking the sound barrier and Beth’s moans as Sam expertly took the small little clothespins off, Janey came, again. I hugged her from behind while Sam finished his molestation of Beth. 

Unwinding her head bondage, he deflated the gag and took it out so he could kiss her. He then began to kiss each and every mark made by the clothespins. Beth seemed happy. With that, both of us started to untie our women. Not Vonny, just Janey and Beth.

“And that’s how lifestylers play. Did seeing this give you something to think about Vonny,” I asked?

“That went so far beyond the ‘tie ‘em up and fuck ‘em’ scenarios I thought were the standard, well, oh my God is about all I can say about this.”

“Yep, one B&D scenario, and one SM scenario with a little bondage thrown in for good measure. Our ladies seemed to like them, so which one did you like best,” asked Sam?

Looking back and forth between Janey and Beth, Vonny just sat there, dazed and confused, open mouthed and wide-eyed.

Beth pronounced, “We need some girl-talk. You two go play, or something. Vonny needs some aftercare, and since neither one of you is cuddling or petting her you need to get out of here. Go play. We’ll call you when everything is better.”

“We’re being dismissed buddy,” Sam said incredulously, with his hand on his chest, faking being shocked. “Pappy or Blanton’s?”

“Knowing them, this may take a while, so I’m thinking tequila, with a cordite chaser. We really haven’t hit the Patron, or the range lately, and few things go better with cordite than a good tequila buzz,” and I grabbed a bottle off the bar shelf.

“Sure as hell beats a round of golf,” he said and we walked out the door. 


Laughing and squirrelling the ATV around in front of our new house, we saw that all three women were sitting out on the porch, rocking in rocking chairs. They were passing a bottle I recognized as Casa Dragones Joven tequila back and forth between them. All three of them had a smug look on their faces.

“Good stuff, huh,” I asked?

Janey held the bottle up as if to offer us some, but Beth pulled her arm down, gesturing to herself and Vonny, silently telling Janey that this was their bottle. Janey giggled. Sam called Jimmy to come and secure the weapons and we went up on the porch to kiss our women. That they gave up to us. 

Where Sam and I had a good buzz going, we were still in control, with a BAC still under the legal limit to drive. However, our womenfolk were shitfaced. Closer now, the clear liquid in the bottle was almost gone. This was not a problem, just something we had to take into consideration.

“We decided to adopt her." (To hear this correctly in your mind, add the appropriate slurs to each word and forget the grammar I’m using to convey their message for the sake of this story.) “Come meet your new daughter, Sammy,” said Beth. She grinned and used both hands like a gameshow hostess gesturing towards Vonny.

“And she’s our niece, husband,” slurred Janey, smiling and laughing. “She’s going to call you Uncle Bat. Isn’t that great?”

Vonny just grinned, trying to hold her head up straight.

Sam and I might drink a fair amount, on a fairly regular basis, but we stretch it out by sipping our bourbon and we’re used to our continuous consumption. Also, considering the body mass difference between us, (both 6’3” and around 250#s each) compared to our women, who rarely drank and were basically half our size, well, we had our work cut out for us.

“We voted on this,” Beth stated firmly, “and it passed unanimously.” 

“Yes, husband. Unanimously,” said Janey, giggling.

Sam and I looked at each other and had all we could do to keep from laughing at them. Recognizing what was going on, Jimmy whispered to Sam that he’d alert Carlotta, in case of emergencies, and wondered if he wanted Pete to come over and make dinner here. Sam nodded ascent to both suggestions. Jimmy drove the short distance in the ATV with the weapons and ammo. We decided to leave the women on the porch. The treated wood planking would be easier to clean up.

“We didn’t get a vote,” asked Sam patiently?

“You did too,” said Beth. “We used your proxy.”

“Yea, proxy,” exclaimed Janey. She was blotto. Cute, and a happy drunk but she was gone. Happy-woman neurotransmitters still flooding the system and booze were always an amusing combination.

Vonny still just sat there, rocking and trying to hold her head up.

“Okay,” said Sam. “Anyone interested in getting something to eat?”

Just then Vonny went for the Olympic long-distance projectile-vomiting record. I’d wondered which one of them would go first. Just like getting up and all going to the bathroom together during a meal, the other two joined in, covering the outside edge of the wide porch with that expensive tequila and whatever was still left in their stomachs. Jimmy, driving back with Carlotta and Pete in the ATV saw this and we all got busy. Luckily, the women were wearing borrowed robes, from Janey’s closet, so no harm done there. 

Carla got the hose on the side and began to spray down the porch. Pete went in for cool damp towels and Jimmy took Vonny while Sam and I took care of Beth and Janey. Aftercare for three sick drunks was as you might expect. We got them cleaned up and laid them down. Vonny got the brass bed in the saloon, for now. Beth was carried into the room predesignated for her and Sam, and Janey was carried in and laid out on her bed. She passed out with no problems after I rolled her over onto her stomach and put a bucket under her head. I assumed Sam did the same thing for Beth.

I left Janey for the briefest time, to get a few things and then went back in and sat with her, leaving the door open. Eventually, Pete brought in a tray of food for me, telling me there was something in the refrigerator that I could microwave later, for the missus. He told me that Sam and Beth were in their room and that Jimmy was looking after young Vonny in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, above the saloon. Sitting in a padded chair I went back to reading one of Janey’s books, watching over my happy little drunk. 

Much later I heard, “I am so sorry husband.”

Making sure some aspirin and water got into her system I sat beside Janey and stroked her hair. She went back to lying face down with her head over the side of the bed, staring into the bucket.

“There’s no need to be sorry. It looked like the three of you were having fun. Fun is a good thing to have. I’m just glad you’re a happy drunk.”

Janey moaned and her stomach heaved a few times. When she tried to roll over, I tied her arms off to the bed to keep her on her stomach. While she’d been passed out, I’d put a pair of leather cuffs on her wrists. To keep her on her belly, I tied ropes off to the bedframe using easy open bows on the D-rings. Janey struggled for a few seconds and then passed back out.

In the morning I heard, “Husband? Please let me out. Husband?”

Opening the bows with one quick pull each I helped her up and she stumbled into the bathroom. Coming out, she still looked like a whipped dog, her head down and all droopy. I hugged her, picked her up and carried her back to our bed. Gnawing on her put a smile back on her face.

“I am so …”

“Don’t worry about it. You and the girls have got to let your hair down sometimes. Sam and I have our fun, and so should you.”

“Then you’re not mad?”

“No, my love, not in the least. Like I said, I’m just glad you’re a happy drunk. The alternative is not a pleasant thought.”

“I am?”

“You seemed very happy and bubbly to me. Beth’s one of those bi-polar drunks. She’s usually alright, happy and fun, but she can turn mean in about 3.2 milliseconds. I’ve seen it and it’s not a pretty sight.”

“I never knew.”

“So, the two of you adopted Vonny, huh?”

“She’s so alone in this world. Everybody needs somebody. Some refuge, with real friends that you can depend on when the monsters howl in the forest. Having no one sucks. It’s lonely and frightening. She didn’t ask for this, but when Beth offered, you should have seen her face.”

“Well, I know Beth has good instincts, and I trust you, so I guess we have a new niece. Maybe the two of you can pack some meat on the bones of that child. God knows she needs some.” 

“You know, I’ve felt the fringes of that fear. We all like Vonny. She’s a special kind of lost soul that you just want to mother.”

Holding Janey’s face in my hands and staring into her eyes I said, “You don’t have to sell me on this project. If it’s something that you and Beth feel is important, then I’ll support your decision. Isn’t that one of the duties of a husband? To support his wife. Especially his slave/wife?”

“I love you so much. Would you just tie me up and hold me, please?”

“After I get some food into you, and get you re-hydrated. Then, of course I’ll tie you up and cuddle you for a while. We’ll watch a real movie, or maybe something on TV. You’ll be all tied up, so I’ll decide,” and I chuckled.

“You’re a tease husband. I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of calling you ‘husband’? I really like the sound of that word when it refers to you.”

“You know, if I get tired of hearing it, I’ll just gag you,” and I laughed.

“You’re going to do that to me anyway, I hope,” and Janey laughed. After she’d pulled on some black support pantyhose, a red teddy and some long black satin gloves, I threw a pair of red boots on the bed.

“Only five-inchers husband?”

“I didn’t want you to get altitude sickness from anything higher.”

Janey giggled and zipped them on.

Pete, who had stayed in the kitchen cleaning up, made us some non-spicy food with plenty of water and then some go-fast shakes.

“Sir, Sam asked for you two to meet them in the basement.”

“Thank you, Pete, and thank you for taking such good care of us. It is most appreciated.”

“Anytime Sir.”

At the top of the stairs I heard Sam call out, “Will you tie this wriggle-worm up? She keeps wriggling out of my bondage. Now that you’re here I won’t have to dip her in a vat of Lucite and let it harden around her just to keep her in place. I tried chains and handcuffs. She still got out.”

Laughing, the first thing I said was, “Sam, my friend, the first thing you have to do is cheat. No one ever said that playing fair was a mandatory prerequisite of being a Dom. In fact, it’s our duty to win. Good evening ladies. I hope I’m not too late. I trust you had fun trying to escape, because that will no longer be an option.”

Vonny had loops of rope loosely wrapped around her waist. Her legs were still tied together, but she had obviously escaped from Sam’s efforts to tie her arms, wrists and torso. She was busy untying Beth and both of them were smirking. I let her continue while I got some supplies.

The first thing I did was to put Nitrile gloves on Vonny’s hands and then seal her fingers into flippers with some electrician’s tape. I folded them down and used more of this tape to turn her hands into useless little fists.

“Sam, it’s hard to pick knots with no fingers. Now, here’s the cheat. That was just a precaution.”

Vonny just stared at me as I tied her hands behind her back with cotton rope and after knotting it, I wet the knot and pulled it as tight as I could. Then I used grey tape to wrap both fists, including the ropes, until they were just a club behind her. 

Doing the same thing to Beth got me glared at, but she couldn’t suppress the giggles that sneaked out. I’d done this to her before. Janey got the same treatment and after tying their legs together, I placed them all against each other, so they were basically back to back. I then wrapped and cinched ropes snuggly around and around their torsos. 

After kissing her, Janey got a wadding, tape and wound Kerlix gauze gag, while the other two got harness ball-gags. I adjusted the size of their individual balls so that they were just big enough to make them drool.

“You see my friend, as soon as they display any ability at wriggling free, it is your duty to cheat. Actually, Vonny did warn us that she liked to try and escape. Yesterday, when I tied her, I made sure that there wasn’t a knot she could get at, and the position itself precluded squirming out and getting free. 

They’ll be in ‘this’ bondage until ‘we’ decide to free them. Then we’ll have to cut their wrist bonds off. Wetted cotton knots, pulled tight, are just impossible to pick open unless you use needle nose pliers. I’ve dealt with Houdini-bottoms many times over the years, and none of them were able to get out of a double tape job on their hands and wetted knots. Short of turning into She-Hulk and just busting out with sheer strength, they’re there for a while.” 

“So, what should we watch my friend?”

“Jimmy said he just picked up the latest season of Ancient Aliens. That’s always a fun ride for something different to watch.”

Continues in


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