A Unique Gigolo

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; gag; lingerie; wrapped; tape; flogger; tease; corset; toys; tease; chair; cons; X

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

Part One

Today’s bondage class seemed unique. For one thing, there had only been three people in attendance. Admittedly it varies, with only a few people sometimes and at other times there’s thirty or more all standing around fingering the piles of rope I leave out. These are mostly the ones too afraid to ask for what they want. 

This Saturday it was a young married couple, all bright-eyed and eager to learn something new and different to spice up their connubial passions, and a very understated young professional that asked well thought out questions and wanted to be tied in several positions while listening to me babble about the who, what, where, when, why, and how of rope bondage. Over the years of teaching, I’ve learned that giving those that show up for my classes an overload of information keeps them focused on bondage and keeps them from worrying about any uncomfortable silences that can develop in a situation like this. So, I babble. I don’t care if they only absorb about 10% of what I throw out there, that’s 10% more than they had, and most will come back for another 10% or so at a later date. Truth be told, it also makes me look smarter than I am.

About an hour into the class, the couple asked me where they could buy some rope like mine. On a whim, I gave them two, fifteen-foot pieces and told them to go have fun. I didn’t mean for them to leave, but they almost ran out to the parking lot with their prizes. I wondered which one of them got tied up in the parking lot and which one drove home. Smiling, I turned my pedantic lecturing and my attentions on my remaining student.

Claire was a pretty young woman, but hid it well under a pantsuit, a conservative blouse and sensible shoes. There was nothing tawdry about her clothes. They just did little to enhance her femininity, but this wasn’t a play party. She came here to learn, and for the next two-plus-hours she got my undivided attentions as I tied her in several positions, explaining the little things about each position that few ever consider. 

When I tied her arms behind her back, I was delighted that she was flexible enough for me to tie her elbows together. I gave her the full 200’ torso wrap, let her wriggle around for about a minute or so to absorb how it felt and then I untied her. Next came the classic box-tie. The first one was with her arms behind her back again, and then I repeated the same tie with her arms in front. I call this one the straitjacket tie, for obvious reasons. Once she shook off getting untied, I tied each arm folded up, with her wrist tied to her upper arm just above her bicep. Most of the women I tie like this always seem to think these are wings and flap their arms around like they could just take off. This amuses me. Without actually adding more rope, I positioned her arms and told her about how they could be secured in various ways to her body to achieve a more helpless feeling. Only untying her left arm, I re-tied it across the small of her back, parallel to the ground and attached to her torso so that she could only move her hand. I then showed her how real bondage lovers could use this position if they wanted to slow-dance in their living rooms. This broke the spell and she actually laughed as I waltzed her around my classroom, humming one of the classics. From then on, I felt like I was tying up a woman, instead of a mannequin. 

After untying her arms, I had her sit down and started showing her my favorite ties for leg bondage. The first and most obvious was the legs in parallel, tying bands of rope going from her ankles up to her upper thighs. Next, I had her cross her legs at the knee, and I tied them in such a way that she couldn’t uncross them. This, for some reason, seemed to amaze her. After untying her, I had her sit up on the table, cross her ankles, pull them up towards her body and I tied them like that. Not only did I tie the ankles, I made wraps around her bent legs to hold them that way, anchoring it all off to a waist rope. And finally, I had her lay on her back and tying each leg individually, I tied her ankles to her upper thighs. I even went so far as to tie her low-heeled shoes on with the cinching process for this tie. Again, this amused her, so I babbled about tying high heels on the women that regularly seemed to want to kick them off during their bondage. Still mystified she asked what was so wrong with that. I told her that women wear heels to look more attractive, and she nodded. I then asked her why they wanted to look less attractive, by kicking their heels off once they were tied up. This got her thinking while I continued.

The last half-hour of our time together was spent with me giving her my theories about gagging a woman. I went into the realities of the Hollywood version of a thin cleave gag or a small strip of tape over the lips as a simple esthetic representation; to the realities of what the more realistic efforts are when trying to silence a woman. I told her that no gag could actually ‘silence’ a woman. I explained the physiology of our voice box, the articulation process of our mouths and tongues and those small trumpets called a nasal cavity. I explained that the actual gagging of a woman was a process to keep articulated speech nicely garbled and to merely reduce the amount of noise a woman can make. I told her about the different types of commercial gags, like the ball gag, the ring gag, the penis gag, the bit gag, the various inflatables, and the downfalls of each one of these. During this process I recognized her body language. She was expecting me to actually gag her and the slight and well-hidden expressions of disappointment when I didn’t, told me she was getting into this. I explained that gagging a woman was, in my opinion, actually an intimacy, and in an effort to remain professional during my classes, I rarely if ever gagged a female student. She accepted this reluctantly.

Like I had mentioned earlier, she asked a lot of ‘why this and not that’ style of questions. There were also a lot of ‘wouldn’t it be better if, …’ questions. As I babbled my theories and reasons as to ‘why this is better because if you do that then, …’ and the ‘let’s get past instant gratification and focus on the overall purpose of some particular tie’ answers, she began to understand that there was a depth of reasoning behind my theories on bondage. By the end of the lesson, my ego wanted to believe that I had created another bondage enthusiast.

While she collected herself, I packed up my ropes and props. To my surprise, she handed me a large vellum envelope, wrapped in a ribbon and sealed with an actual wax stamp. The symbol that had been pressed into the hot wax was an oval flourish surrounding a set of cursive initials.

“Sir, you’ve passed this audition with flying colors and I will be giving you a glowing recommendation to my employer. It was my pleasure to be the beneficiary of your ropework and experience today. Thank you. You were kind, professional, and informative. Please consider the invitation I gave you.”

And with that she left. I walked out behind her and as she exited the building, she was assisted into a limousine by the chauffeur, and they drove off. Old habits die hard, so I memorized the license plate and then went back into the club. Tucking this envelope into my play bag, I left to go get something to eat before the play party that night. I had a date with a very eager woman that played at being a dominatrix for an escort service but told me that she would only bottom for me. I had wicked plans for her service to me tonight.

Driving home around 1pm Sunday, grinning, I remembered the envelope. In the back of my SUV I keep a duffle bag for teaching bondage, another filled with a variety of tools to teach classes on corporeal discipline and a third play bag for just that, play. When I got to my apartment, I retrieved the envelope and went up to examine it.

After taking photos of the wax seal and the envelope, front and back, I broke the seal, peeled back the ribbon and unfolded the contents. Again, old habits die hard. Inside was a crisp hundred-dollar bill with a typed note clipped to it reading, FOR GAS AND A GOOD BREAKFAST. On the inside of the vellum was a handwritten message, in scented purple ink.

Dear Nicolas,

I am in search of a personal rigger and disciplinarian. Having to be very careful, I’ve had research investigations done on many men claiming the title. Your reputation and sterling character put you in the finals. Claire, my loyal personal assistant, auditioned you, and if you are reading this, then you passed your final test. I trust her judgment and she obviously thinks highly of you. Would you be so kind as to travel to the Long Beach Airport on Monday, the 9th, at 11am PST. From there I will provide helicopter transport out to my estate so that we may meet in person. This final interview is to establish if you and I have any chemistry? If we get along, and I hope we do, I will respectfully ask for a sampling of your talents, so please bring whatever you feel you would need to practice your trade. I am led to believe that you are a master of many BDSM related skills. My researchers report that a number of your personal fetishes parallel my own. That aspect alone excites me. A map showing the route from your residence to the airport is included, along with the contact information as to where to go when you park your car. If everything goes well, I am extending an invitation to stay the night. I would like every opportunity to get to know you better. I will treat you to cocktails, a sumptuous dinner and hopefully, a pleasant evening. Please bring a change of clothes. If anything makes you the least bit uncomfortable, my helicopter will return you to the Long Beach Airport anytime you ask to leave. I am anxious to meet you, Nicolas Alexander Black. Hopefully, you are the man my researchers say you are. Sweet dreams.

With respect,


After rereading that several times, just to make sure I was interpreting it correctly, I made myself a smoothie, using pineapple sherbet, Midori, Captain Morgan’s, Triple-sec, and ice. Deciding to bring more than I would probably need I started to pack a play bag. 

Obviously, she wanted to get tied up, so a pre-cut assortment of ¼” braided nylon rope went in first. By the time I quit throwing bundles in the soft-sided suitcase there was probably 500’ or so in there. I added several bundles of hemp rope and a full ball of white cotton string. Three sets of safety shears were added, and my travelling med kit. Next came a 12-pack of four-inch Kerlix, another 12-pack of four-inch micro-foam tape, my last three rolls of three-inch micro-foam tape and two, ten-packs of electrician’s tape. Ear plugs, earbuds mated to my special Bluetooth communication system, make-up sponges and eye pads made it into the bag. After that, twenty-odd pairs of Nitrile gloves and a box of Breathe-Right strips were tucked away. For extension play, I added a set of my suspension handles and two D-rings. Next came the leather. The posture collar was a no-brainer, and the padded penis-gag attached to a trainer harness came next. I started to throw in a couple of play collars but decided against that. A simple, thin leather blindfold with a nose-hole was added along with a common padded buckle-on blindfold. Two Lycra hoods were added, with one of them having a padded blindfold incorporated in it. A lace-up lambskin Gwendolyn Hood and a Lycra pull-on copycat were thrown in the pile. And finally, two, 24 count packs of long zip ties and some shortened zip ties that had been cut off other bottoms in the past.

Next came the discipline tools. Three sets of adjustable nipple-clamps, a set of tweezer clamps and a set of clover clamps were collected and added to the play bag. A fifty-pack of new wooden clothespins were thrown in too. My needle-sharp Fairbairn-Sykes dagger, a pack of wooden kabob skewers and a hard bristle brush were added for abrasion play. A fur mitt with a pocket sewn in for a chemical hand-warmer packet came next along with a pair of vampire-gloves. Several one-time-use only chemical heat-packs were added too. A bundle of soft-tipped artist’s brushes and a set of four bottles containing non-toxic water-based body paints were added for fun. My favorite thumper-style flogger, with very soft, wide, thick tails came next, along with my thin rubber pussy flogger. A woven leather crop with a spring-steel core found its way into my bag with a paddle that also had a spring-steel plate sewn between the leather. And last but not least, a three-foot Wheeler single-tail went into the bag.

I threw in an extra set of black cargo pants, two dress shirts, socks, underwear, and my two favorite T-shirts. One said, ‘Yes, I’ve GOT ROPE’, and the other said, ‘On your knees, shoulders back, tits out, suck in that gut and smile because Daddy’s home.’ I had other snarky T-shirts, but these were my favorites.

Figuring I had enough bases covered without getting too exotic, I stashed my bag next to the clothes I’d laid out to wear, called my friend as a safe-call, made another batch of smoothies, and settled in for a night of Rom-Coms to get myself in the mood.

Claire met me at the helicopter, which was one of the Sikorsky S-76 varieties. To my surprise, this helicopter was basically white, but had been painted to look like a crème-colored lace covered the white base coat. Still conservatively dressed in a pantsuit, Claire grinned a lot as she told me that she was glad I had accepted her employer’s invitation. She helped me stow my suitcase and then rode in the very luxurious cabin with me. It only had four seats back there, making this one of the VIP executive models. Before we got off the ground, Claire got me to sign a non-disclosure contract. After going to this much trouble, I figured her boss had something to hide so I had no problem signing. Claire wouldn’t say much after that, and gave me no specifics to my questions, so I just smiled and rubber-necked at the scenery out the windows. 

A little over two hours later we landed on the lawn of a lavish estate. I carried my play bag as we walked past a hedgerow. Hiding behind this hedgerow was a rose garden surrounding a hundred-foot koi pond that had sparkling fountains erupting at odd intervals along the center. As I walked past I saw a frog on a lily pad and smiled. At the top of some wide yet shallow steps stood a woman that got more appealing as I approached.

She was tall. Standing in the classic pose she had one knee bent, the other was locked straight with her hips tilted to one side and her head tilted slightly. With one hand on her hip she looked very feminine. This woman wore a crème colored midi-dress that was cut unevenly at the bottom. Her waist was narrow, widening out into breeder hips. I smiled. Then there were her tits. The dress was high collared and buttoned up to her chin, but nothing could hide those prominent tits. They must have been an E-cup or possibly even an F, but they fit her figure and were not out of place on this tall shapely woman. As I got closer, I noticed the dress was light and lacey. The sleeves were flared, and she wore a wide brimmed straw hat that was pushed back to allow me to see her face. She was smiling. Her make-up was daytime understated, but it enhanced the lightness of her being. Walking up to her I laid my bag down, took her extended hands, looked her up and down and smiled.

“I am thoroughly charmed. You are stunning. I have a whole mouthful of adjectives to use to compliment you but to be truthful, I’d just like to stare at you for a while, drinking in the woman before me. You are Savannah, correct?”

“Yes, Sir Nicolas, I am, and please save your adjectives for later. That greeting and the look in your eyes as you stare at me tells me all I need to know for the moment. Claire, please take his bag while I take his arm. I shall have to get some pictures of that smile of yours Sir Nicolas. None of my surveillance photos do you justice.”

“I’ll smile even more once I start to tie you up. My fantasies are racing through my head. That is why you sent for me, isn’t it?”

“My, oh my, straight to the point. I like that in a man. No hem-hawing around. No dancing around a possibly uncomfortable subject. A man of confidence, that knows what he wants is always a pleasure to be around. Yes, Sir Nicolas, that is why I asked you to come and meet me. We can talk more once we are inside. I cannot afford the chance of a drone, or even a satellite snooping on my private life and catching me in an indiscretion. Once we are inside though, I assure you that I am anxious to feel your ropes on my body. I just don’t want to be tied while we are outdoors. I’m sure you can understand. By the way, Claire has just been going on and on about you. You made quite the impression on her.”

“Savannah, I recognize your efforts to show respect, but call me Nick. I find honorifics to get boring after a while.”

“That was noted in your files, and I was wondering how long it would take you to feel comfortable around me. Nick it is then.”

“Tell me, is Claire a relative? A daughter maybe, or a niece?”

“You are very observant Nick. What gave it away?”

“Savannah, don’t answer a question with a question. You said you were seeking a disciplinarian, and this is the first effort along those lines. Now answer my question please.”

“Again, I am impressed. Claire is my oldest daughter. She is loyal, talented and fiercely protective. For her to recommend you so highly tells me exactly what I need to know about you. As my legal counsel, she guides me through my life now. My next oldest daughter is serving her country in one of our alphabet soups. She was the one I used to fill in your dossier. I would be surprised if there is some aspect of your life that I don’t have a file on. My youngest daughter is just 22 and in grad school, working on her second doctorate. She told me when she was five that she was going to be the President of the United States one day, and I’m beginning to see that as a distinct possibility.”

“Good thing I don’t have anything to hide. And to answer your question, there are just too many facial indicators to even think of trying to deny a genetic connection with Claire.”

“Well Nick, now that we’re indoors, it’s time for me to relinquish all control over to you. This may surprise you, but I don’t really want a safety net. I’ll most likely cry a lot, but just carry on. It’s been a long while since I’ve truly submitted to a man and I’m sure I’ll become emotional at some point. However, I want to revel in this power exchange, so please Nick, tie me up and have your way with me.”

“A more exciting phrase has never been spoken.”

Pulling a piece of rope from my pocket, I tested her flexibility, smiled at how limber she was and tied her lower forearms together behind her back. With another piece, I tied her elbows close together, but not touching, and with a third piece I anchored the elbow tie with an over-the-shoulder harness. I took my time tying her and explored the body of the woman that I had just met.

“Now show me your bedroom. You might as well be comfortable in your helplessness. Claire, unless you’re into voyeurism, or just plan on being Savannah’s bodyguard, I’d prefer to be alone with her. I do my best work one-on-one, so let me have my bag. I have a very desirable woman to tie up and beat. I see a lot of submissive potential in this woman, and I’m a greedy man, hungry for what I see. Is there a house intercom?”

“Yes, why?”

“In two or three hours, we might need refreshments.”

“Of course, Sir. On the house phone, 1# will get you the kitchen, 2# will get you our maid, 3# is a direct line to me, 4# is the house intercom, 5# is for security and just dial 9 for an outside line. Is there anything I can get you for now Sir?”

“Here’s a list of things I want you to have ready for later. For now, I want a cooler filled with pineapple juice, diet ginger-ale and whatever Savannah drinks that is non-alcoholic. Use ice, not cold packs and leave it outside the door. I have no intention of tying this lovely woman as quickly as I tied you. Yours was a classroom demonstration. This is intimate exploration for the sake of acquaintance. Let’s go Savannah. Helplessness awaits you.”

Behind closed doors, with one hand in her hair guiding her head, I kissed Savannah. Shared passion and desire fueled our make-out session and as I gnawed on her neck, she whimpered and begged me for more. Her corset prevented me from tickling her ribs, but other areas were not so well protected. I didn’t tickle any one place for too long, but I did jack up her sensitivity level with my naughty fingers. On one knee I examined her footwear.

“These bondage boots are impressive. Do the buckles unlock with a standard handcuff key?”

“Yes, both the calf straps and the ankle straps are keyed the same. I was betting you carried a Peerless handcuff key, but, …”

“Oh, I always carry handcuff keys. I don’t particularly like handcuffs, and actually didn’t even bring a pair with me, but I’m always prepared. I think I was a boy scout in a former life.”

It was a cheap joke, but she giggled anyway. The crème colored boots had a five-inch stiletto heel, no platform and straps locked them on her leg at ankle and around her calf. I knew she’d be wearing these for me again before I left. I unlocked them and took them off before pushing her onto the bed, having her lie on her bound arms. Spending about five minutes on each foot, I massaged them, bringing moans of appreciation from Savannah.

“You could put me to sleep doing that to me. Do you plan on keeping me bound when we sleep together?”

“That’s one of my favorite treats. Snuggling up to a bound woman and then waking up beside her, still bound, is something that I relish.”

“My former husband, the man who introduced me to bondage did that to me in the beginning. I grew to love sleeping next to him like that. It was hard getting used to, and I was sore after the first few times, but I learned to love sleeping like that. I always had such beautiful dreams. And while I’m sharing this, I really missed it when he stopped.”

“Why did he stop?”

Blushing a little she continued on with, “He was very enthusiastic in the beginning, but as soon as he learned I was pregnant, he quit tying me up for sleep, and the more I showed, the less he tied me up at other times. He told me it wasn’t healthy for the baby, and I was young enough to believe him.”

“We’ll discuss this more, later, but for now, you have to show me what’s underneath that dress.”

Flipping her over, I untied her arms.

“Now, let’s see how alluring you can be with a striptease for me.”

Savannah got into this, swaying and moving erotically as she slowly took off her clothes. The pantyhose came first.

“I stocked up on pantyhose and hosiery. This is one of the fetishes we both enjoy. I love the constriction on my legs, …”

“And I love how they feel when my hands are on your legs.”

Savannah smiled a tempting smile and replied, “Then if I want your hands on my legs, I’ll wear them all the time.”

“Perfect. I’ll suggest the color I want to see on you. You say you like the compression? Have you ever put on multiples?”

“Yes. I’ve been doing that since I was a girl and long before I ever got tied up for the first time.”

As the dress came off the Merry-Widow style halter-bra and corset combination came into view.

“They call this Steam-punk style now, but I saw my grandmother wear one just like it and she called it, …”

“A Merry-Widow.”

“Yes, you do know. Do you like?”

“Is there a more restrictive undergarment that evokes the iconic core of femininity in a woman? Yes, I love corsetry, and leave that on. When I spread-eagle you to these bedposts and beat you, it’ll remind me to be extra careful. Besides, I love how you look in it.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? Do I deserve a beating so soon? I’ve been trying to be a good girl for you.”

“Between lovers, beatings are not about punishments. They are a way to get the endorphins flowing, and who doesn’t love a good endorphin buzz?”

“Lovers …?”

“I’m charmed by you, and I’m feeling the lust warm my heart into more intense feelings. Allow me my fantasies. This is how I would treat a long-time lover, so just go with it. You did say you didn’t want a safety net. I can beat you without malice. I don’t need to prove I am the dom, by beating you into submission. You are gifting me with your trust and desire. This is one way I play with the women that are special to me. Now, let’s make it interesting.”

With my bag open on the bed, I had her bring several pairs of her panties to me so that I could choose. She hadn’t been wearing any when I arrived here. While she retrieved her waddings, I plugged in my communicator and linked it up with my iPhone. 

“Here, put these in and we’ll do a sound check.”

She looked puzzled until I handed her the earbuds. She moved her long auburn waves of hair aside and fitted each one into an ear. 

“You do know how fascinated I am with bangs, correct?”

“Turn it down a little please.”

“Is that better?”

“Yes, just right. I had them cut just for you.”

“Could you be more perfect?”

“I want your full measure Nick, and if I have to entice you to get it, well it’s time for you to earn it. Please show me the way you express love to a submissive that you desire. Make me yours.”

“I will, but not quite yet. Grab onto these,” and I put one of my suspension bars in each of her hands. With rope, I carefully tied wide bands around each wrist and then tied connecting ropes up to the eyelets on each bar, measuring it for her comfort when she would be suspended by them. Then I tied short ropes from the eyelets to a steel D-ring. When I was done, I lifted her arms up by each ring, showing her that this was easier on her than normal suspension ties or those cheap suspension cuffs.

“Oh, Nick, I like this. I can hang by the bars and there’s no pressure on my wrist bones. Claire never said anything about these.”

“I didn’t show them to her. These are for advanced classes.”

“You do amaze me Sir Nicolas,” and she smiled examining this tie.

Sitting on her bed, I had Savannah kneel in front of me. Choosing carefully, I stuffed two pairs of her panties in her mouth, filling her cheeks. Using the four-inch microfoam tape I cut several pieces and made a star pattern over her lips, slowly smoothing each piece to make a tight seal. I even put a longer piece under her chin and up the sides of each cheek to keep her from opening her mouth. Savannah hummed while I did this and smiled with her eyes. When I was satisfied, I kissed her over the tape.

“I imprinted early in my life with this method of gagging a woman. I was watching a Marti Frazier movie, and this just looked so damned erotic. Now, it’s time to further reinforce this with some Kerlix.”

I wound the porous, self-adhering bandage around and around her head, pulling it tight and keeping it smooth as I covered the lower half of her face. After the first two winds, I placed thick pads over each ear and held them in place with more winds of the Kerlix. Before continuing, I put a Breathe-Right strip on her nose to help keep her nostrils open and clear. I placed make-up pads over each eye and with the rest of the roll I wound the remainder around her whole head, blindfolding and mummifying her head. Still not done, I took more of the micro-foam tape and made three tight wraps around her already sealed mouth. Then I kissed her again, and she melted into my embrace.

Guiding her to her feet, I positioned her at the foot of her bed and tied her off, spread-eagled to the seven-foot posts that were sturdily attached to the corners of her bed. The last thing I did was fasten the posture collar around her neck to hold her head up. To get a good fit, I undid the halter fastening her bra on, fitted and buckled the collar, and then reattached the halter.

Cupping her vulva with my left hand, I started to spank her with my right. This was obviously a new way of doing this to her and she moaned and squealed into her gag. Savannah squirmed around but was torn between grinding her pussy into my hand and sticking her butt up to be paddled by my other hand. After a sound reddening, I switched to my leather and steel paddle. Starting off lightly, to get her used to the difference, I would tap her butt cheeks until I got her all goosy with my fingertips and then I’d push her back and smack her with the paddle, making it sting, which drove her forward and back into my teasing fingers. After a while, Savannah started liking this game and was snorting heavily through her nose as she excitedly panted for air. Even through the gag I could tell she was giggling.

Changing the play up a little, I used my fingernails to score into the bruised cheeks of her ass, tickling everything in her pelvis region I could. With my more talented right hand, I started fingering her pussy, building her towards an orgasm, and then I quit. She writhed around for more attention and with ice from the cooler, I would get a good shiver going before I would attack her pussy again. Kissing her body all over, running my fingertips and fingernails up her legs and reaching inside of her bra to grope her tits got her very excited, and then I quit again. Throwing back her head and moaning she danced in her restraints for more.

Using just the weight of the flogger tails as I laid them against her back, I tapped her back until a full body shiver took over Savannah. I started lightly, but soon I had a steady thumping going against her shoulder blades. As I knew it would, this sent her into space. Sub-space as some call it, but all rational thought was gone from her mind, and she lived for the massage of these soft thick tails pounding her. I kept this up until my arm got tired. I’d been flogging her for about an hour or more and from experience I could tell she was ready to be taken down. I dropped the flogger and with my hands touching her body I got her ready to come. Using my fingers, I found her G-spot, and stroked her sopping pussy until she shuddered and came. Continuing touching her, her aftershock spasms wracked her body and I pulled out my little pocket rocket. Touching the area just above her clitoris, I turned it on and got her to come again. This time she passed out and just hung limply in her bondage.

On her bed now, she writhed as she fought her way back into consciousness. I was just finishing off her leg bondage. She had three bands of ropes above her knees, going up to just under her pussy, cinched and tied so her legs were side by side, and three more wraps doing the same thing holding her lower legs together. I had found a pair of white six-inch stiletto pumps in her closet and these were tied on her feet and attached to her ankle ropes so she couldn’t possibly kick them off. Her arms were already tied behind her back, from her forearms to above her elbows. More wraps went around her upper arms above and below her tits. Another band of ropes went around her arms and waist, making her quite helpless. 

I had removed her corset, and other than the ropes, her head bondage and her high heels, she was very naked. She squirmed, testing her bondage and then lay quietly in my arms. I opened my one-way communications with her as I stroked her body, paying particular attention to her well-crafted F-cups and pinkish brown nipples. These tits felt so real. They must have been expensive, and crafted by an artist of a surgeon. 

“Savannah, you were delightful. You reek of satisfaction, and the pheromones you are exuding from every pore are delicious and intoxicating. Now, I know that after coming during your flight through subspace that you think you are too sensitive to be touched again, but you did say to have my way with you, with no safety net, so I will talk to you again when you wake up. I was blessed by meeting a woman like you. It’s off to see the wizard.”

Using my finger first, I started playing directly with her clit. Naturally she recoiled from being oversensitive, but I persisted. When she was writhing to get away, I used the pocket rocket and wrestled with her to maintain contact so I could send her into orgasm overload. As predicted, she passed out after several body-wracking orgasms. Helplessly bound, there was nothing she could do but ride it out. Sure, many would consider it mean, even torturous, but there really is no better way to reinforce the feelings of complete and total helplessness in a woman. When she passed out, I turned on a special program on my iPhone that played a continuous loop of rain sounds through her earbuds. After enjoying some refreshments to replenish my electrolytes and cool down, I crawled back into bed with her and held her while I stroked her body.

The first time she woke up, I did it to her again, until she was screaming into her gag. I only had to pull one orgasm out of her before she passed out again, so as I held her, I started to slowly untie her, peeling the ropes out of her skin. The second time she woke up, only her head was still bound. Her first reactions were to reach out to me, and finding she could touch my naked body, Savannah wrapped herself around me, holding onto me like a life raft in the ocean. We made slow love to one another as I touched just the right places to heighten her passions. After I came, again, I cuddled her as she passed out. I gently unwound her head bondage and woke her up trying to get her to drink something. Savannah slowly came around and then went from looking at me with wide eyes to blushing deeply and being unable to look at me at all. Getting up, I started rummaging around her drawers and closet for something for her to change into for me.

“Master Nick?”

“It’s still just Nick, Savannah. What did you want?”

“Nick, Sir, I’m a, - - - uh, I ’ya, - - - well, I’m just, …”

“Too much for you? Should I pack up to leave?”

“Oh God, NO Sir Nick, Master Nick, oh please don’t go, please stay Sir, I just, - - - well I feel so, … so very, …”


Savannah got up on her knees, hung her head and said, “Owned. It’s been, - - - I’m sorry Sir, it’s been so long since I’ve felt that out of control, so used, and so, well yes, owned. My husband used to make me feel owned and he was the last one to make me feel like that, and that’s been, - - - well, it’s been over 25 years Nick, Sir. I’ll call you Nick if you want me to, but in my mind, you are my master now and I want to be owned by you. What do I have to do to entice you to stay with me?”

“Tell ya’ what. Join me in the shower, and then get all pretty for me. I’ll lay out some clothes for you to wear and then we’ll go down and show Claire and the rest of the household staff that you’re still alive and well. You did promise me cocktails and a good meal. C’mon.”

Savannah cried a lot in the shower. I held her and let her get it all out. Warm water, soap and a naked woman always got me hard, but I held off, assuring her that I needed fuel and a beautiful woman with me for the evening.

With her hair brushed out and her make-up done, Savannah put on the two pairs of black crotchless pantyhose I threw on the bed, smoothing them up her legs until they felt right. From her closet I chose a low-cut sweater that was just long enough to be a mini dress. Wanting to see her breasts sway, I did not offer her a bra to wear. Full blue panties, that could later be used as a wadding, were selected and some patent sky-blue pumps, to match one of the stripes in the pattern of the sweater were handed to her to put on. These pumps had a five-inch spike-heel and an ankle strap. 

“Savannah,” I said as I stuffed the pockets of my cargo pants with rope and a roll of micro-foam tape, “you could give a statue a hard-on in that outfit. Evening casual with a flair for the kinky is very sexy on you. So, tell me, what are some of the other fetishes we have in common?”

“Nick, I like to be tied to a chair. That was the first position my ex tied me in and I’m just emotional enough at the moment to be sentimental. I’ve read that you like that position too.”

“Yes, I imprinted early on the damsel in distress tied to the chair and awaiting her rescue. Over the years, I’ve determined that it’s the angle of a woman’s hips and legs. Her soft curves, versus the angular lines of the chair excites something in me. Add more angles from the carefully applied ropes holding her to that chair, emphasizing her womanly curves even further, and magic happens in my mind. I’m already fantasizing about you tied like that, so I believe it’s cocktail time for us. Your staff does know what I was brought here to do, don’t they?”

“Yes, every one of them is very open minded, and loyal to a fault. I pay them very well and treat them all like family. We may continue our play in front of them and no one will raise an eyebrow.”

“Good. Do you have a bartender on staff?”

“Will Claire do? To be truthful, I have my reasons for her to see her mother play and have fun at this. I think she’s a closet submissive, and kinky to boot, so watching me, after the way she gushed over what you did to her during your audition could be an eye opener for her. Do you mind?”

“No, I got the kinky submissive vibe from her when I tied her and seeing this in real life will help her to accept and understand her own sexuality.”

“My thoughts exactly. Shall we?”

Before we left the bedroom, I grabbed my ball of string.

“What’s that for?”

“You’ll see,” and I smiled, tossing it in the air.

Claire had been hovering at the bottom of the stairs and I let the two of them talk while I went into the dining room and began to lay out the ropes I would be using. When both of them joined me, Claire was still blushing and staring at me with big eyes. I pulled out one of the heavy chairs from the table and positioned it so I could tie Savannah to it. Before she sat down, I had her lift the hem of her sweater-dress up so I could start her bondage. With a rope around her waist, looped and hitched so it wouldn’t shift too much, I tied a crotch-rope on her, pulling the ends over her panties and deeply between her vaginal lips. This made Savannah moan, and swoon. She had to hold onto my shoulders as I positioned this rope and snugged it up because of how sensitive she still was. With another rope, I tied her upper thighs together just under her crotch, cinching them tightly. 

Having Savannah sit, I looked at Claire and said, “Your mother has volunteered you to be our bartender for tonight. Will you?”

“Yes, Sir, just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Good girl. In the blender, add six shots of Midori, four shots of Captain Morgan’s rum, two shots of triple-sec, and then fill the rest up with pineapple sherbet. Mix thoroughly until it’s smooth and then pour your mother and me a glass full. Add pineapple juice if it gets too thick but keep it slushy. Pour yourself a little, but remember, you have to stay sober to make our drinks and then serve our meal. Any questions?”

“What should I tell the chef to prepare for your meal?”

“I want a sirloin steak, medium, with steak fries, fresh corn and Dutch apple pie for dessert. Savannah my dear? What will you be having?”

“Lemon chicken, green beans, and a fresh kale salad. No dessert for me.”

“Make our first round of drinks for us and then place our dinner order. I’ll be busy tying your mother to her chair.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Having Savannah sit down, a cinched wrap of ropes went around her lower thighs just above her knees. With a long rope tying her ankles side by side, I used the remainder to thoroughly tie her pumps on her feet. Because her legs looked bare, I added a wrap of rope around her calves, snugging them tightly without cinching them. Then I proceeded to start securing her torso to the chair. A band of ropes went around her waist, through the back of her chair and was securely knotted. A similar band of ropes went over her breasts and another band went under her breasts, making her sit upright against the back of the chair. Another band of ropes went around her lap, under the seat of the chair and was knotted off to the back legs of the chair.

This was not done mechanically. Much of the time I was stroking her body, squeezing her flesh as I tied the ropes around her, and as I tied her torso to the back of her chair, her breasts were mauled and her nipples were pinched often, for my amusement. They got hard and flinty with her excitement. By the sounds she was making, Savannah was telling me of her desire for more of my manipulations. When all of this was done, Claire delivered our first round of refreshments.

Taking a sip, then taking more of a longer drink, Savannah said, “Oh my Sir, these are good. You’re going to get me drunk and take advantage of me, aren’t you,” and she giggled?

“Well, you could always just get up and leave.”

“No, my new lord and master, I think I’ll just sit here and catch a nice buzz with you. I have no place better to be. Besides, I’d really like you to get drunk enough to take advantage of me. I like being touched by you. Are you sure I’m tied well enough for you? I like being tied up and molested like this.”

Savannah finished her drink first, and I went over and poured the remainder of the blender into her glass.

“You are trying to get me drunk. Good for you Sir,” and again she giggled.

“Savannah, you have a smoking hot body. I suspect you’ve had a little work done. Was it because he quit tying you up? Was it enticement?”

“Well, after pushing out three beautiful baby girls, the glow of youth was less than it was when he married me at 17.”

“You married early then. Tell me about it.”

“I graduated high school early, actually at 16, and we started seeing each other when I enrolled in college. He was one of my professors and he took me under his wing because I was so young. I’ve always had big breasts, which drew him to me, and he was handsome, witty, charming and oh so experienced in the ways of the world that a smart little rich girl like me didn’t stand a chance. He introduced me to bondage almost immediately, tying me up while I studied, and I just fell madly in love with his domineering ways. He charmed my parents, and seeing how in love I was with him, they allowed the marriage when I turned 17. As long as I was his obedient slave, we got along fine. I excelled in my studies and started collecting patents on some of my intellectual properties. My father made sure that I maintained the rights to my inventions, and I thought life couldn’t get any better. I was young, rich, by my own hands, married to a learned man of stature and happy as his slave-wife. Then I got pregnant. I got my first doctorate in bioengineering while pregnant with my middle girl and began running my own laboratory shortly after she was born. I began accumulating patents and getting richer, never realizing that my ex was collecting other co-eds with big tits and amusing himself with them while I took care of my business and my three baby girls. When he was caught red-handed embezzling from my company and thrown in jail, I learned a hard lesson. I had been cruelly used. I devoted myself to work and my girls, and men became the enemy.

“Sure, I was courted, but there were two major problems. Most wanted me for my money, and the few that didn’t had no idea how to satisfy a submissive woman. When Claire got into college, I noticed two things. I was horny, and no man wanted me. I was overweight, over-educated for a vast majority of men, and intimidating as the head of my company. Men still seemed like the enemy and I didn’t like women. I tried a couple of times, but there was no spark, no excitement. I even tried online dating, but the losers that call themselves ‘doms’ are as a rule, misogynistic bullies with delusions of pornography filling their heads. So, with Claire’s help, I started exercising, eating healthier and the weight gradually fell off. In an homage to vanity, I found the best plastic surgeons I could and had several, uh, tune-ups. 

“Men began to notice me, but again, it was for my money and power. None could perceive that I was not this domineering bitch-goddess that wanted to spank them, instead of being spanked herself. So, in anger, I went under the knife again, and became the pornographic ideal of what many men claimed to want. Bimbofication seemed to be the perfect revenge. Again, I ran into the same problem, so I started to maliciously shred their delicate little egos, trying to make them pay for not knowing how I wanted to be treated.”

“Didn’t you ask any of them to dominate you?”

“Yes, but you’re smart, and experienced enough to imagine how that went. Fur-lined fake handcuffs, Velcro straps and pink ping-pong paddles cut out to look like hearts was the best I got. I went a little mad with anger and frustration. Then Claire stepped in.”

As she placed our dinner in front of us, Claire continued with the story. With her own plate, she sat down and ate with us.

“Mother was turning into a shrew. Angry all the time and making nasty train wrecks of the men she let anywhere close to her. One night, we hatched a new way to approach the situation. I outlined the resources she had at her disposal and convinced her that I could find just the right man for her. Obviously, money was no object, so I started to search for a worthwhile mate for my mother. You can imagine that my standards were impossibly high. I’m still a bit surprised that you made it this far. Not only did I interview and investigate all the American doms I could find, I went international in my searches. I examined the lives of more men than I want to remember, whittling them down for the best fit. For the last month, mother has been giving private interviews to a score of hopefuls. None of them had the right stuff. Technically Sir, you were the last one on her list. I hope that doesn’t upset you Sir.”

“Why should it? I’m here now. I had a delightful romp with a lovely and enthusiastic woman, and I enjoyed myself very much. She hasn’t kicked me out yet, and I hope she doesn’t. I’m having fun with her. Savannah seems to be having fun, …”

“I am Sir Nicolas, my new lord and master. You have a man’s touch, a good heart and your skills as a dominant are second to none.”

“Well, thank you. You’ll get tied up and beat for that remark.”

“Oh, goodie. May I have another one of those drinks before we do though? They are very tasty.”

“Only if your daughter makes one for you. Then, I cut you off, cut your panties off, stuff them in your mouth and gag you before I finish tying your hands. You have a challenge ahead of you. Once I tie your hands, in front of you this time, you have to try to escape, without help from anyone else, whether you want to get out or not. Got it?”

“In front huh? Where I can see how they’re tied? Bring it on.”

“May I watch,” asked Claire?

“Sure. You didn’t see this tie the other day in class. I always save the best for the most desirable and submissive women, of which your mother is one of the most luscious and endearing. Clear away our plates, make us another round of drinks and then pay attention. Savannah is a very tempting woman and considering she will be quite helpless in short order, bring a straw for her to drink from.”

While Claire was busy, I tied Savannah’s hands together, but this time I positioned them back to back instead of palm to palm. I tied loops around her palms and connected them to her wrist ropes. Then, with the string I brought, I tied each pair of fingers together, making loops and hitches from the base of each pair of fingers up to the tips before knotting them off and going on to the next pair of fingers. Savannah watched in amazement as I did this, staring at me like I was performing a magic act. As a finale to this act, I used electrician’s tape to make wraps around all four pairs of fingers, turning them into a flipper of sorts, and then taping her tied thumbs together. Continuing with the tape, I buried the ropes tied around her wrists under layers of tape, just to be sure. With one hand in her hair, I crushed my lips against hers, and played dancing tongues until she was panting and flushed.

“Now wench,” and I snickered, “get yourself out of that fix, or you’ll walk the plank after I give you to my pirate hoard for their amusement.”

“You’re a tease Master Nick, and I like that you don’t give a girl a chance to win. Could I just give up now and sip my drink while I revel in this helplessness? This feels wonderfully tight and restrictive. We both know that there’s no way to free my hands, and once you gag me, I’ll just zone off into sub-space being tied like this. This just feels too good to even try and fight it.”

As I was reaching up under her sweater dress, cutting her panties with my shears and tugging them out from underneath her crotchrope, I whispered in her ear, “Now think of how this would feel with your hands tied behind your back like this.”

Slurping up the last of her drink, I kissed her, stuffed her damp panties in her mouth and wound micro-foam tape tightly around the lower half of her head. When she was gagged to my satisfaction, I kissed her over her gag while I groped her tits. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before her head lolled back, her eyes closed, and she was off in her own little world. I checked her bondage to satisfy myself nothing had tightened up too much from her wriggling and then just sat back and watched her.

“I knew she’d like your touch Sir. I know I did, and I was a demo-girl, and not someone that you were making love to. You do use your ropes to make love to a woman. I can see that now.”

“I use more than just my ropes. I use my mind. I let a woman know that I appreciate her and that she is special to me. I share the joy I find in her submission. My touch tells them that I want them, and that they are not just a body. In class Claire, you were just a body. Savannah is so much more to me than that. If I had touched you the way that I touch your mother, then you would know the difference. I already have deep feelings for Savannah, and they are increasing every time I tie her, or beat her, or just touch her.”

“Did you really beat her for over an hour?”

“Yes, and I’ll do more to her later. That’s another lesson you’ll have to learn. Beatings are not always punishment. Between lovers, beatings often communicate a depth of emotion that is truly indescribable to someone that has not felt the intimate touch of pain. I would never injure your mother, but I do intend to beat her, again and again, as we explore our power exchange.”

“Maybe one day, someone like you will teach me.”

“You deserve that level of intimacy Claire, but right now, I want to focus on your mother. She is who I want to be with, and I think she wants to be with me just as badly.”

“She does Sir Nick. She does.”

Continues in


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