For me, it all started off as just another routine Friday evening. The cellar of Ann-Marie’s house had, over the past couple of years, become quite a familiar haunt of mine. In fact, you could almost call it my second home – at least on most weekends. I knew every square inch of the walls, ceiling, floor, the wooden door and almost every storage box and discarded piece of furniture and other junk that lay scattered about the small, untidy windowless space. Not that I could always see this disorganised clutter, the plain, unpainted plaster that adorned all four sides of this underground chamber, or the bare concrete floor. In fact, I would have to say that most of the time – for me at least – the room was shrouded in darkness. There were two reasons why this could be the case. Either the overhead light was switched off, or else I was blindfolded or hooded… sometimes both.
And today was no exception. With a silk scarf covering my eyes and knotted tightly and securely at the back of my head, I’d then had a black spandex hood pulled down to my neck, ensuring that I remained in a state of blindness for the foreseeable future. Not only had I relinquished my sight, but my ability to speak had also been seriously hampered, as prior to the hood being applied, my mouth had been filled with a pair of Ann-Marie’s old tights, before several circuits of clinging grey duct tape had been wound around my lower face and head.
Of course, under normal circumstances, I could have easily been free of the gag, blindfold and hood within seconds of them having been applied. But, as you’ve probably guessed, the ability to reach up and rid myself of this restrictive headgear had already been nullified, as my hands were of no use to me at the moment.
Having been commanded to stand with my back to the solid wooden pillar which was cemented into both floor and ceiling of this tiny underground room, my hands had been pulled around behind the post and my wrists bound together with strong white rope. This feat had been accomplished with a ruthless efficiency which I had come to expect from my rigger, for Ann-Marie was an expert in the art of bondage, and always ensured that anything she put me in was never going to work loose. Tying the final knot somewhere that my stretching fingers couldn’t reach, I was now moored to the post until she decided otherwise.
My hands were not the only part of my anatomy to receive the rope treatment, of course. Firstly my ankles had been bound tightly together, before two more leg bonds had been put in place; one just below, the other just above my knees. Then more strict cords had been applied, in order to lash my already useless legs to the pillar. Lastly, even more of the seemingly endless supply of rope was wound around my body, from shoulders to abdomen, to make certain that the wooden mooring post and I would remain as one until such time as Ann-Marie saw fit to release me.
And that wasn’t going to be for a long time yet, although just how long I would have to wait exactly, I had no idea at present.
So there I was, expertly and inescapably tied to this immovable anchorage, with nothing to take my mind off my predicament - which was exactly as I wanted it. As was customary for these regular bondage sessions, I had dressed in my favourite attire prior to my incarceration. Firstly, I’d pulled on a pair of silky soft women’s black tights that shimmered in the light as I walked in them. Over these I’d then pulled on one of my super-snug black spandex cat-suits, which covered me from ankle to neck in a clinging second skin. I have always loved the feel of tight spandex against my flesh, and these cat-suits – really designed to be worn as women’s dancewear – were the ultimate in luxury as far as I was concerned. Now thus attired, and shoeless, with feet protected only by the tights and the cat-suit’s stirrups, I was ready and willing for my captivity to begin.
Ann-Marie and I had come to an arrangement several years ago, which suited both of us. Although mildly interested in bondage, she had no real appetite for the long sessions of continual sensory deprived incarceration that I yearned for. But she was a great rigger! As I’ve already mentioned, she did have some affinity with the application of ropes and other bondage materials, and had become something of an expert in the methods and techniques of securing me as tightly and securely as I craved. This was due mainly to the fact that, over the years, I had pestered and badgered her to tie me up at every opportunity, until she’d learnt what worked and what didn’t. She’d also gleaned that, with me tied up to a standard that I was satisfied with, she would get some peace and quiet for a while.
And so, over the course of time, the cellar of Ann-Marie’s house had become my dungeon; where I could be left happily trussed and tethered in my own little isolation chamber, whilst she got on with her life. One rule that I had always insisted on during these sessions, was that there should be no prearranged limit to my time as a prisoner, and that it was at Ann-Marie’s discretion when she released me from my bonds. And over the course of the years, the duration of these stints in bondage had sometimes grown to epic lengths, with me being entirely helpless in my underground cell for several days at a time.
So on this particular Friday night, I had no reason to think that this was going to be anything but the normal marathon spell of captivity. I had been left here around two hours ago by my estimation, and unless Ann-Marie decided that this was to be one of our shorter sessions (which occasionally happened, but not often), then she wouldn’t be returning until tomorrow morning, and then probably only to check that I was okay, give me a drink and perhaps a little food, and possibly bind me in some other position (a hog-tie maybe). So I had plenty of time on my hands.
One of my favourite activities, when I know that I’m tied to perfection, is struggling. Being encased in tight spandex, the sensation every time you move a muscle, or your legs rub together, brings about not only a delightful swishing sound, but also an indescribably delicious sensation of constriction and restraint. And the fact that you can’t move your limbs, or break free from the strict, unforgiving ropes, all adds up to a wonderfully helpless experience (If you don’t believe me, try it sometime).
So it was with some surprise - and not a little dismay - that, after such a short spell of incarceration, I heard footsteps on the stone stairs that led down to my subterranean hideaway. Surely freedom wasn’t going to be inflicted upon me so soon. But wait, wasn’t that voices I could hear? Up until now, neither Ann-Marie or I had ever mentioned our little arrangement to anyone else – at least I had assumed she’d kept her side of the bargain to remain silent about my strange penchant for being tied up. But now, if she hadn’t already spilled the beans, it seemed that very soon my secret would be revealed to… who exactly?
As the sounds drew nearer, it was clear that, as well as Ann-Marie, there were at least two other people with her. And from the pitch of their voices, both were clearly female. Seconds later I heard a key turn in the lock, followed by a door creaking open and the flick of a light switch. The gasps of wonder, the faint rustling of clothing, the clicking of heels on the hard floor, and the distinct sensation of the presence of several figures close at hand, all conspired to give me the feeling that I was being closely scrutinised, like an exhibit in a museum. I received the impression of someone circling around me, as if trying to take in every angle of this strange sight before them.
“Wow, he is really tightly tied, isn’t he? How long has he been here?”
The sound of this delightfully playful female voice was immediately followed by the sensation of the ropes around my wrists being grabbed by a pair of soft, warm hands; although to my great relief, it became apparent immediately that this action was not an attempt to release me from my bonds, but merely done to test the efficiency of Ann-Marie’s handiwork. She had obviously passed this examination with flying colours.
“Just over two hours so far. As I told you earlier, Steve loves being bound up like this for hours on end.”
As Ann-Marie responded to the questioner, I felt the spandex hood that smothered my head and face begin to shift, and soon this had risen upwards and been removed completely. Within seconds, the scarf too was loosened from around my face and all of a sudden I was confronted with a brightness that for a while blinded me. As my vision gradually adjusted to the change in illumination, I gazed out at Ann-Marie, dressed as she had been before in white t-shirt and tight blue jeans, together with two other females I had never encountered before. Ann-Marie stood closest to me, with the hood and scarf still in her hand.
“Allow me to introduce you properly. Steve, this is Ruth… ”
She gestured in the direction of the girl standing furthest away from me, to my left. I briefly took in the fact that she was short, with long dark curly hair that reached to her shoulders. She was wearing a baggy sweat shirt and black leggings. But as Ann-Marie continued with her introductions, all thoughts of this woman soon dissipated from my thoughts.
“… and this is Cindy.”
As I gazed at the second woman, I felt my heart skip a beat. Cindy was around the same height as myself, or maybe an inch or so shorter. She had long blonde hair cascading around her shoulders, framing a face with beautifully mischievous sparkling eyes, and a gorgeous smile. Her slim figure was clothed in a white, almost see-through silk blouse that highlighted her perfectly formed breasts. Below her waist, a short black skirt gave way to slender legs sheathed in shimmering black tights.
“Ruth, Cindy, this is Steve.”
I barely heard Ann-Marie complete her introductions, so besotted had I become with this vision before me who had now been given a name… Cindy. And a second or two later, the evening got even better, as this gorgeous creature took a step towards me and opened her mouth.
“Pleased to meet you Steve. I just love the look. Ann-Marie was just telling us about how you spend most weekends down here, so I asked if we could come and see what it was about. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion?”
It was immediately apparent that it was she who had earlier commented on my state of bondage. She was within a few inches of my face now, and the sense of mischievous intrigue in her eyes sent a shiver of pleasure through me. Down below, I felt my cock stiffen and push longingly against the spandex of my cat-suit, and if any of the women present had aimed their gaze downwards at that precise moment, they would undoubtedly have noticed my excitement too. Provocatively, Cindy placed her hand on my chest. She giggled softly; not a malicious laugh, more an acknowledgement that she could empathise with my situation and understood why I was enjoying my bondage. Our eyes met, and I gazed into those deep green pools and realised that she might just be the bondage soul mate that I had been hunting for.
From somewhere – seemingly a long way away – I heard the other woman speak for the first time.
“Okay, so he likes being tied up and left that way. So what? Can we go back upstairs now please? It’s cold down here and the movie will be starting in a few minutes. Just leave him here if he enjoys this sort of thing so much.”
It was clear that Ruth wasn’t interested one iota in some guy who enjoyed being rendered helpless and being kept that way for long periods of time. And it seemed for a few seconds that Ann-Marie was about to take her friend’s advise, as she began readying the scarf to once more bind around my head. Cindy, however, had other ideas.
“You know something Annie? I wouldn’t mind spending a bit of time down here with Steve, if you don’t mind. I think we could have quite a lot of fun together.”
If I could have spoken, I would have wholeheartedly endorsed what seemed an excellent suggestion, although at that moment I hadn’t quite taken on board the full implications of what Cindy was actually alluding to. Because at that time I was assuming that she merely meant to stay down here with me and – hopefully – tease and torment me with her hands and body. I hadn’t realised then that what she was asking for was to join me in being inescapably bound and gagged. And nor had Ann-Marie, it seemed.
“Okay Cindy, if that’s what you really want. I’m sure Steve will be pleased to have some company. But under no circumstances are you to untie him.”
Without looking at the speaker, Cindy took a little step closer to me, until her body was rubbing seductively against mine. Her sparkling eyes were now within three inches of my own. She giggled playfully.
“Oh no Annie, you misunderstand me. I want to be able to experience inescapable bondage, just like Steve’s.”
By now I could hardly contain my excitement. And as Cindy’s abdomen slowly slid against mine, I was sure that she could feel this too. But Ann-Marie had yet to be convinced that this was a good idea.
“Really Cindy? Are you sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for? Steve’s here for the rest of the night, if not longer, and if you choose to join him, you’ll be here for the duration too. You do understand that, don’t you? Once I leave this room, that’s it. I won’t be coming back for a very long time.”
I was half expecting Cindy to pull out at this point, as she discovered the length of time that she would have to remain tied up. So I couldn’t believe my luck when she responded positively to Ann-Marie’s words of caution.
“That’s fine by me. I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’ve always secretly had a yearning to be tied up. So this is too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“Okay Cindy, if that’ what you really want. Who am I to stand in your way?”
Ann-Marie walked over to the box in which I knew the ropes, tape, straps and a cornucopia of other bondage paraphernalia were stored. She picked up a coiled length of rope and began to unwind it. To my delight, Cindy turned around, put her hands behind her back and submissively offered her wrists up to be bound. My mind was reeling with delight at this turn of events, which I had never envisaged happening in a million years. There was, however, one more stumbling block, which now threatened to derail the whole process.
“Don’t be an idiot Cindy, I know what’ll happen. You’ll be tied up for five minutes, then get bored and start screaming to be let out again. Which will mean we’ll miss most of the film and the evening will be ruined. Come on girls, there are bottles of good wine just waiting to be consumed. Forget this nonsense and come back upstairs.”
Ruth was hovering in the cellar doorway, apparently completely disinterested in the strange scenario that was taking shape in front of her. Luckily, Ann-Marie saw that Cindy’s eagerness to try a bit of bondage was genuine, and didn’t let herself become distracted by her friend’s plea.
“It’s okay Ruth. You go upstairs, open some wine and pause the television when the film is about to start. I’ll be up in a few minutes once I’ve got Cindy all trussed up and helpless.”
For a second or two, Ruth stared at the players in this peculiar game that she wanted no part of; first at Ann-Marie, then at Cindy, and finally at me. Still unsure of what to make of all this, she at last realised that she was in a minority of one when it came to voting on whether this odd game should go ahead or not. With a slightly bewildered look on her face, she turned and made a beeline for the door; turning her head once along the way, a look that portrayed a mixture of disgust and confusion in equal measure etched on her features.
Once she’d disappeared from sight, Cindy once more held out her wrists behind her back, as if keen to feel the entwining ropes pressing into her flesh. Ann-Marie duly obliged, and I watched in fascination and anticipation as she began to bind my gorgeous new bondage playmate with an expertise that I knew from experience would render Cindy helpless in a matter of seconds.
Cindy’s girlish laughter was, I was swiftly coming to realise, infectious. And during the process of transmutation from total freedom to complete inescapable captivity, she giggled almost incessantly as rope after rope gradually restricted her ability to move of her own free will. After her wrists had been dealt with, Ann-Marie pulled her arms as closely together as she could manage, and commenced roping them into a strict elbow tie. Being slim and supple, Cindy’s elbows were almost touching each other by the time Ann-Marie had cinched and knotted the now strict cord. But if Cindy was experiencing any discomfort from this stringent fetter, she showed no signs of it, instead laughing even louder as she tested the efficiency of her bonds and found them tight and secure.
With Cindy’s arms now out of commission, Ann-Marie wasted no time in ensuring that her new recruit to the world of bondage would experience the full range of her skills. Before this could happen, however, she relieved Cindy of her tight mini skirt (“You won’t be needing this for a while”), and I was greeted with the sight of the full length of my co-captive’s shapely legs in their silky smooth tights, which shimmered slightly as they caught the light from the bulb overhead. I was overjoyed at the sight before me, but events were happening so fast that my mind was soon diverted away from Cindy’s exquisite legs and back to the ropes that Ann-Marie produced from her stash.
Firstly, she looped a rope around Cindy’s slim waist, created reverse tension and tightened the rope as strictly as possible. Pulling the remainder of the rope through her legs from back to front, Ann-Marie looped this over the waist rope and yanked as hard as she could. A gasp of surprise issued involuntarily from Cindy’s mouth, as the crotch rope dug deeply upwards into her, although this didn’t appear to be an exclamation of pain or discomfort, but simply acknowledged the unexpected nature of this intrusive cord. With this bond now secured to her satisfaction, Ann-Marie allowed the two ends of the rope to swing loosely in front of her compliant subject. Both ends of this residual length reached to the floor with several inches to spare, which informed me that Ann-Marie had used one of her longer pieces of rope to fashion the crotch rope. Why this should be, at that moment I had no idea, although I was certain that there must be a good reason for this. All would become clear within a few minutes, however.
Now Ann-Marie went to work on ensuring that Cindy’s legs could no longer be used as a means of locomotion. Firstly relieving her of her shoes, Ann-Marie leant the now helplessly trapped female against the wall, then used all her expertise to swiftly and efficiently apply a tightly secured cord around her ankles, before adding two more equally movement inhibiting ropes just below and just above her knees. With her limbs now beyond redemption, Cindy tested her severely restricted state by hopping two steps into the middle of the room and balancing precariously unaided on closely bound feet. Once more that girlish giggle filled the room as she tossed her head back, sending her lovely long silky hair cascading in a tangled avalanche around her shoulders.
“Wow this feels great. I could never get free of this on my own.”
I’m not sure whether Ann-Marie had already come to a decision about tying Cindy and me together to create one single bound entity prior to Cindy’s prompting, or whether this was all my co-captive’s brainchild. But I watched in a state bordering on ecstasy as Cindy now wasted no time in hopping as close to me as she could, until our bodies were pressed hard against each other, leaving Ann-Marie in no doubt as to how she wanted to be tied.
“Make sure you tie us as closely together as you can, Annie, so that I can experience the same degree of immobility as Steve.”
To my utter joy, Ann-Marie was on the case almost immediately. Winding another length of rope around both our upper bodies just below our armpits, and also incorporating the post behind me into the lasso, within seconds Cindy’s lovely round breasts were squashed close to my chest, with no room for either of us to move away… even if we’d wanted to. Another similar bond was placed a few inches further down, followed by a third around our waists, so that our torsos would remain conjoined until further notice. As this was going on, Cindy’s face and mine were no more than an inch or two apart. I could smell her sweet perfume and gaze into her enticingly gorgeous eyes as we became ever more entwined.
Putting her mouth close to my ear, she whispered,“This is going to be so much fun.”
That lovely seductive giggle filled the room again, but it appeared that not everyone present was so enamoured with the sound of Cindy’s laughter. Having finished strapping us together from shoulder to waist, Ann-Marie decided to put a stop to this frivolity.
“If you want to be tied up like Steve, Cindy, I’m going to have to gag you like he is too. After all, I wouldn’t want you conspiring to escape.”
Ann-Marie grabbed a pair of her old tights, of which she kept many with her other bondage materials, and quickly fashioned them into a neat ball. Cindy offered no resistance as they were offered up to her lips, but merely opened her mouth as Ann-Marie pushed them into the cavity behind her teeth. Wasting no time, she then immediately began winding circuit after adhesive circuit of grey duct tape across Cindy’s face and around her head. Smoothing this down, she returned to her previous task of ensuring that we were packed tightly together.
As more rope was wrapped around her combined forms just below our buttocks, Cindy giggled again as her circumstances became ever more inescapable, only now the sound was muffled and distorted by her layered gag. Those smiling eyes, which I was swiftly falling in love with, continued to convey the message that she was taking immense pleasure from our joint captivity, and the provocative rubbing and wiggling of her body against mine was getting me excited all over again… not that I’d ever really cooled off since this whole unexpected turn of events had begun.
Ann-Marie completed the task of binding our lower limbs into one compact package by circling rope around our ankles, knees and thighs. With these bonds now in place, the enforced friction of the spandex of my cat-suit against Cindy’s tights, created a soft swishing sound every time either one of us moved. And Cindy did try to alter her position a lot; seemingly keen to experiment with her inability to move and eager to experience every possible sensation she could eke out from the close proximity of our shared confinement. By this stage, I had assumed that Ann-Marie’s work had come to a conclusion, such was the nature of our captivity. But I was soon to discover that she had one more loose end to tie up.
Reaching into the now extremely limited gap between our torsos, our rigger grabbed the rope that she’d left hanging at Cindy’s waist. Quickly encircling this around the post at my back, she looped the ends through the stringent ropes of my wrist bonds, before bringing the ends back around to their starting point. Pushing her hand in between us was a tight squeeze, but somehow Ann-Marie not only managed to loop the ends back around the rope that encircled Cindy’s waist, but also somehow succeeded in knotting this off securely. Moving around behind me again, I felt her pull on this latest bond at the point where it joined my wrist rope. As she did so Cindy gasped, as the crotch rope evidently dug deeply into her. The message was clear; I could, with the slightest movement of my bound hands, cause a similar reaction in my bondage playmate.
With her work now at an end, Ann-Marie prepared to leave.
“I have to say that you do make a lovely couple all trussed up together like that. I won’t blindfold either of you, or turn off the light, as I’m sure you’ll enjoy gazing into each other’s helpless eyes over the course of the next few hours. Have fun.”
And with that she was gone, shutting and locking the door behind her. Through the ceiling, the sound of the television could faintly be heard, together with the sound of Ann-Marie conversing with Ruth. Their words were unintelligible from this range, but both could be heard laughing soon after Ann-Marie’s departure, and my guess was that the joke was somehow connected to the predicament of the bound couple in the dungeon beneath their feet.
For a minute or more, both Cindy and I tentatively tested the efficiency of our dual bondage. There was no denying that it was impossible for either of us to escape, and from Cindy’s continued propensity to snigger into her gag, I think it would be fair to say that neither of us would have wanted it any other way. Cindy‘s incessant rubbing of her gorgeous body against mine had me in a perpetual state of arousal, and with our abdomens secured so closely to each other’s, it would have been impossible for her not to feel my cock thrusting against the spandex of my cat-suit in an effort to get ever nearer to her. And I knew that if her hips continued to work their magic, then I would be reaching my climax sooner rather than later. But what was Cindy getting out of all this? So engrossed had I become in getting off myself, that my stupid male brain had forgotten that my partner’s crotch rope was in easy reach of my fingers. Cindy soon reminded me, however, with a soft muffled plea that seeped barely intelligibly through her gag. The message was clear: “Pull on the rope” she purred.
Inserting my stretching finger through the rope looped around my own wrist bond, I complied with her request, and a split second later Cindy’s gasp of pleasure told me that I must be doing something right. Jerking the rope in harmony with Cindy’s thrusting hips, we soon built up a rhythm that coalesced into a combined explosion of ecstatic delight. With perfect timing, we both climaxed at precisely the same moment, as our bodies writhed against the tight bonds that held us in such wonderful restraint.
With our energies momentarily spent, Cindy leant her head into the angle of my shoulder and neck, where I could sense the gentle exhalations from her nostrils. She sighed and purred with contentment. I wanted so much to be able to kiss her there and then, but the tape that sealed my mouth made this untenable. For several minutes, we remained in a state of contemplation, neither of us moving. I could feel the soft beat of Cindy’s heart against my ribs and felt the softness of her hair against my face. At that moment everything seemed so right, that I found myself hoping that Ann-Marie wouldn’t bother looking in on us for a very long time.
After what must have been somewhere between two and three hours, the sound of feet on the steps leading down to the cellar reverberated around the stone walls, floor and ceiling. By this time, Cindy and I had repeated our earlier performance on two further occasions, and each time the sensation seemed to increase in intensity as we explored our enforced intimacy to the limits of our somewhat curbed capabilities. So Ann-Marie’s reappearance was not something that I particularly craved, and nor, it seemed from the sad look that she gave me, did Cindy. But it would soon became apparent that we needn’t have worried, as releasing us from the tight and unbreakable bonds which she had so expertly placed us in, was not the purpose of our captor’s visit.
Ann-Marie strolled around the room, checking us over from every angle, a smug smile on her face as she did so. Then, after this brief visual inspection, she came closer and began checking each bond in greater detail; making certain that none had slipped or worked loose, and retying any that she felt weren’t secure enough. Only after this thorough examination did she break her silence.
“Well you two, looks like you’re getting well acquainted. How is it for you Cindy? Is everything as exciting and wonderful as you hoped it would be? I do hope Steve is helping you get the most from this whole experience.”
Cindy nodded and a muffled confirmation slipped through the packing in her mouth. Ann-Marie turned her attention to me.
“And what about you Steve? How are you enjoying Cindy’s company? When she mentioned earlier that she had a strange fascination with being tied up, I knew that you’d get on well together. I hope you’re pleased with your first few hours together.”
Pleased?! I was over the moon with everything that had happened tonight, and I hoped that the noise that emanated from my equally well stuffed and taped mouth conveyed this message sufficiently. Ann-Marie seemed to get the gist.
“Good, because I’ve decided that you’re both staying here for the rest of the night. I hope you don’t mind… ”
Then she added, with a deliciously evil smile on her face,
“… and even if you do, it’s too bad, because my mind’s made up on the matter. In fact, we’ve got a little surprise up our sleeves for you.”
I guessed that the ‘we’ she spoke of referred to Ruth and herself, although what this ‘surprise’ could possibly be I had no idea. However, Ann-Marie soon began to explain.
“You see, Ruth and I have been having a discussion about ropes, gags and all things bondage while you’ve been enjoying yourselves down here. But try as I might, I just can’t get her to understand and appreciate the fascination of being tied up for long periods of time. Some people are like that, I’m afraid. She just can’t see why anyone would get excited by being rendered helpless, no matter how much I try to enlighten her. I’ve tried to tell her that there are a lot of people out there who are into bondage in a big way, but she’s not having any of it. And she certainly doesn’t think that anybody else would be in the least bit interested in seeing you both tied up like this, and even if they did have an opinion on the subject, she’s sure they’d instantly take pity on you and call for your release.”
As she spoke, the sound of descending footsteps was quickly followed by the sight of Ruth entering the cellar. In her hand, I noticed she was carrying her mobile phone.
“So what we’ve decided to do is try a little experiment. In fact we’ve put some money on the outcome; £50 to whoever turns out to be correct. We’re going to make a video, as well as taking a few photos of the two of you in all your bound up splendour; either struggling for freedom or canoodling in the throes of ecstasy, whichever takes your fancy. Then we’re going to post the results on a few social media sites, such as Facebook, Twitter and YouTube. We’re going to ask the people who view these posts to give their opinions, and we’ll be asking them one simple question: Should we untie you straightaway, or should we keep you bound and gagged for the rest of the weekend? We’ll give it until midday tomorrow, then count up the votes. If the majority of people take pity on you and say that you should be released, then you’ll be set free immediately and Ruth will have won the bet. On the other hand, if the public think that you must be enjoying yourself and that you’d be happy to stay the way you are, I’ll have proved my point and we’ll just have to keep you here until Sunday evening.”
Just as Ruth raised her phone and started taking still pictures from every angle, Ann-Marie produced her own phone from the pocket of her jeans and began videoing.
“So how do you think the public will vote? To set you free or to leave you all trussed up? I’m fairly sure I know the answer. After all, there are a lot of sadistic folk out there who love to see others suffer.”
Cindy looked at me wide-eyed for a second or two, as if unsure of what to make of this unforeseen twist in the tale, and mortified that we were going to be displayed to the world at large in such an embarrassing and compromising situation. But suddenly, she seemed to see the funny side and giggled into her gag. For my part, I too initially had reservations about being made a laughing stock for the amusement of the general public, especially as this would almost certainly include people I knew; people who had been oblivious to my bondage and spandex obsessions… up until now. But as Cindy began to once more rub herself against me in the most provocative way imaginable, I found myself grabbing the rope that ultimately ran between her legs, and began to pull as hard as I could on it. I figured that if we were going to be made into items of ridicule, then at least we might as well enjoy ourselves in the process!
For what must have been around five minutes, Ann-Marie continued to film our every move, as we thrashed around in our severely inhibited state. As we reached our joint climax once more, I knew that there was no way the public would vote to set us free, but quite honestly, I didn’t care. The idea of spending the next forty eight hours or so in the company of this wonderfully attractive woman was most definitely something that I could easily come to terms with.
“Okay, I think I’ve got all the footage I need. Ruth and I will go and upload these images, then let the people have their say. It’s getting late now, and I’m sure we’ve disturbed you enough already. Ruth will be going home soon and I’ll be off to bed, so I’ll see you in the morning. Have a great night!”
Absentmindedly, Ann-Marie turned out the light as she left the room, plunging us into darkness.
It was 10:17 AM when Ann-Marie next visited our humble prison cell.
How do I know this so precisely? Because that was the time shown in the bottom right hand corner of Ann-Marie’s laptop screen when she turned the light on the following morning. She tutted and shook her head as she gazed at the screen, which she was holding so that we initially had no view of the display.
“Well, it looks as if I’ve been proved correct. Ruth isn’t going to be very pleased when she sees the messages that people have been posting.”
She turned the screen around and held it up to our eye level. It was immediately obvious that the website we were viewing was YouTube, and the moving image in the top left quarter of the screen was clearly the performance Cindy and I had given the night before. And it would have been fairly obvious that, from the sounds emanating from the laptop and the synchronised thrusting and jerking of our bodies, that we were having quite a wild time together. Below this, it was apparent that several viewers had commented on our antics, although from this distance it was impossible to read what had been written. Ann-Marie sighed and smiled.
“I know that there’s still more than an hour and a half left before voting closes, but I have to say, things aren’t looking too good for you at the moment… at least if you were hoping to get out of here anytime soon.”
She turned the screen away from us and began counting.
“So far, there have been twenty one comments left on YouTube alone, and guess what? None of them have called for your release.”
She smiled a big gloating smile.
“That’s right, everyone so far has voted to keep you tied up. There are comments like ‘they look to be enjoying themselves so much, it would be a shame to let them go’ and ‘leave ‘em there all weekend, they deserve it’. Some people are even suggesting that you should be tied up even tighter. And it’s the same on the other sites too – everyone thinks you should be left bound and gagged together for the duration of the weekend. I think that’s what’s known as a unanimous verdict”
She closed the lid of the laptop down, then began unpeeling the tape from my face. Removing the rolled up tights from my mouth, she offered a bottle of mineral water to my lips for a few seconds, before once more stuffing the bundled up hosiery back inside and applying fresh tape around my head. The whole event took no more than a couple of minutes, and so grateful was I for the refreshing liquid, that even if I’d wanted to, there had really been no opportunity to remonstrate with her about our ongoing predicament. With my mouth once again sealed, Cindy was also encouraged to take in the soothing liquid, before once more being silenced. With the drinks break now over, as she’d done last night, Ann-Marie walked around us, checking that no bond had in any way come loose.
“So there you have it. I’d like to let you go, but the public have had their say… so what can I do? My hands are tied, so to speak… Oh no, sorry, I guess that was a bit of an insensitive thing to say given your current state.”
She reached the door, and was halfway through before delivering her farewell address.
“Don’t worry though, you seem to have been engaging with each other splendidly so far, so there’s no reason for you not to continue to get to know each other for the rest of the weekend. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ways to amuse yourselves. I imagine that crotch rope will be getting quite a bit more use in the near future.”
This time the light remained on, although the sound of the key turning in the lock had a certain finality about it, which seemed to imply that it would be a long time before she once again returned. For a second or two, Cindy’s eyes widened and for the first time I sensed that she was uncomfortable with the timeframe that we were faced with, and that this unease might give way to panic. I tried to make some soothing noises through my gag, however, and this seemed to calm her down to a certain extent, although I could still discern the seeds of dread in her demeanour. Looking into my eyes, she shifted nervously and mumbled what I interpreted as “What are we going to do?”
What indeed? There seemed only one solution as far as I could ascertain. Twisting my hand around, I hooked my fingers through her crotch rope and pulled as hard as I could on it. There was a low squeal from my partner’s filled mouth, and as I watched, the fear drained from her eyes and a smile returned to the portion of her face not covered with tape. That was more like the Cindy I’d grown to love. As my beautiful bound companion began to thrust her pelvis against mine, I felt the first stirrings of an erection strain against my spandex attire. The next day and a half was going to be filled with endless pleasure. I just knew it.
Over the next few weeks, Cindy and I cemented our relationship – both in and out of bondage. And most Friday nights we would visit Ann-Marie’s house and allow her to tie us up in a state of shared bondage that never failed to be anything other than a truly phenomenal experience.
And now, at the very moment that you are reading this story, Ann-Marie has us all tied up together in her cellar in almost identical fashion to the methods employed on our first night together. And once more, she has decided that the public should decide whether they want us to remain in this secure and inescapable state of captivity for the foreseeable future, or whether they want to free us. This time, however, instead of a video and photographs on social media, she has decreed that you, the readers of this story on Gromet’s Plaza, should have the final say. Another difference on this occasion is that there is no time limit. We will, according to our rigger, be kept in strict bondage until such a time as the votes to release us outnumber those calling for our continued incarceration. Ann-Marie will monitor the situation over the coming days to see which verdict is decided upon.
So, dear reader, all you have to do is visit the Plaza Forum and leave your thoughts, opinions and comments on whether you would like us to be set us free or kept tied up.
Or, to put it a different way, do you want me to spend the next few days bound up in intimate and inseparable close contact with the body of a truly beautiful female, with no possibility of escape or rescue? Or would you rather that we were set free?
I think you can probably guess which verdict I’m hoping for. And I believe that Cindy is also of the same opinion.
Our fate is in your hands.
Please vote wisely.
You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum