Emma's Saturday Evening Frogtie

by Emma Bond

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© Copyright 2014 - Emma Bond - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; naked; bond; gag; rope; frogtie; harness; hammerlock; mast; climax; true; cons; X

Here is a little something I did a little while back in 2011. I also posted it on my Blog if anyone’s interested in a little more bondage kink.


Sunday, 4 December 2011

It was a pretty crappy week for me at work and the only way for me to get it right out of my system on Saturday was to literally beg Peter to tie me up and get it out of my system.

To me bondage is a release from the reality and futility of the world. A way to get away from all the stupid buggers that exist in the world. I asked him to make it a really hard tie too. My logic was, if the tie was really hard it would be easier for me to de-stress. Well that was the plan at any rate!

I drew the curtains in the front room this evening and got out bondage gear. Peter popped on the central heating and then had me strip naked. He knows I hate drooling all over myself so he made me open my mouth and pushed in a ballgag straight away, buckling it tightly behind my neck.

That was a surprise in itself. Usually he gags me last.

He also said he would just leave me tied up until he thought I had had enough. This was fine by me of course. He had me kneel on the rug in front of the fire and started frog tying my legs together.

Doubling up the rope and starting the column near the knee, he tied a small cinch behind my knee, then moving up with the rest of the rope, he started looping rope around the tops of my thighs. This was cinched before he started tying my other leg in the same way. Now I don't often get tied up in a frog style, and the ropes restricted my movement quite nicely. The trouble with frog ties are you are punished almost immediately as all your weight rests on your knees so you have to fidget around to be comfortable.

Next, came the chest harness.

He took about a 20 foot long piece of rope and doubled it up, starting right behind my neck, he passed the ends over my shoulders and under my armpits before bringing the loose end through the bite creating a Larks-head, then he pulled the rope back the other way to keep it taught before bringing this around and over the top of my breasts before tying it off back at the bite. I was starting to think that Peter was going easy on me. If he tied my wrists behind my back I would easily be able to untie the knots on my outer thighs. The breast harness wasn't even pinning my arms to my side.

Then he started on my wrists. He pulled my arms up behind my back, and at first he had me hold my hands on the opposite arms elbow, while he set about looping some rope about my forearms. Nothing too tight, and then he cinched it. Again I was a bit surprised as he allowed me a little wriggle room. I guess he was going to tease me with what I thought would be an easy escape.

It was then that I felt that the rope hadn't all been used up. The next instant my wrists were pulled up as he lashed the excess wrist rope to the chest harness rope behind my neck. I could feel my wrists pull up almost between my shoulder blades, into what I believe is a Hammerlock tie.

The rope across my breasts dug into me, squeezing so they were pointing up. I grunted in discomfort and Peter let a bit of slack back into the rope but not much. When he tied the rope back at my wrists I was unable to feel the knots. It dawned on me then I was in for a horrid tie after all. My wrists wanted to pull back down into the small of my back but the rope at the back of my neck prevented it. As I wriggled about with my wrists the ropes across my chest pulled and chaffed.

My knees were killing me after only a few minutes. Getting comfortable made my breathing laboured and the drool was flowing all over my chest and down between my legs. Now anyone who has been in a frog tie knows that there are only a few ways to sit, and what was making things worse was that I kneeling on a thin rug on a wooden floor.

Splaying your legs out so that you try to rest on the inner part of the feet just kills the inner ankles. You move to sit with one leg pointing inwards towards the other leg, but then the other leg has to move outwards back onto the inner ankle to compensate. Then you change legs, and it seems to take ages. Then as you fall backwards, onto your back and on your wrists to take a breather you realise that it was as big a mistake to do that, as asking to get tied up in the first place.

Falling on your side is the only way to touch the floor to allow you push up with your hands as they are right up your back. You have to rock yourself forward using all your tummy muscles just to sit back up. I turned over onto my stomach just for a rest.

Before I knew it my pussy was rubbing over the carpet, and that feeling of pending orgasms came over me. I just lay there on my tummy humping the floor for a few moments until I exploded in orgasm. It's one of the most powerful orgasms I have had in a long while. I think it was a bit of the really helpless situation I was in, and just the urge to get comfortable, forgetting all the other things that happened to me that week, that helped create it

Eventually when Peter let me loose, my upper arms ached the rest of the evening. The joints of my knees cracked as I straightened my legs out, relieved to have them untied again. I just sat there naked for a while with Peter spooning me on the floor his back against the couch, my back pressed against him as he rubbed some life back into my arms.

Of course he couldn't resist “coping a feel” of my naked body either, while we watched the TV and I came down from my bondage high.

The moral of this story? I guess it's not always good to get what you wish for. It was a pretty tough tie, this one.

Happy Bondage.
Emma x

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