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Bound Frustration
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Douga here, justifying taking up a wizvax number (although it looks like
people everywhere are getting new numbers now... hardly see any 3-digit
numbers anymore (I sent a test message to my old adress at wi.366... it
never came back. I guess that means we'll have to start collecting new
adresses all over again!)) Has this been happening to anyone else: ever
since that week wizvax was down (or maybe before, I don't know), it seems
like my news server here at this site doesn't pick up all the articles
posted by wizvax. Hmm. Well, since I found out a few days ago I've managed
a way around the problem, so I'm back into the swing of things again!
Anyway, so here I contribute with a story inspired by and dedicated to all
the people who contributed to the various threads of discussion going on a
few months ago, both publically on asb or privately with with me by e-mail:
To the full-figured people here who we all think
are *beautiful* anyway =)
(I won't name names, you know who you are!)
And to the less flexible people who have hopefully by now have
found some less strenuous positions to enjoy during their scenes
(if not then maybe this story'll inspire something creative...)
I had fun writing this =) (I'm still learning...), hope you have fun reading
it! (And sadly, no, this time I don't have any drawing to go along with it.)
* * * * * * * * * * *
Bound Frustration
It started out innocently enough. Or so Mary thought. Tom had
been hinting about this day all week, about how he had something special
"planned for you, my sweetness!" Every time he said that, he said with a
grin. That poker-faced type of grin that left Mary completely clueless
not only about the content of his intentions, but even the very nature of
them. Something romantic? Physical? Sweet? Or was he being "cruel"
again? He certainly was being cruel keeping her in suspence for the
week, that's for sure. When probed, all he would reveal was that he
asked her to wear her long leather gloves, the ones that went up above
her elbows, and her long leather boots, the ones that came up to mid-
thigh, this day.
One thing was sure, the anticipation perked up their nights
somewhat. Only somewhat, though, as Mary would try to tease Tom's secret
out, and he'd only grin back. Then she'd threaten not to have sex with
him if he didn't tell, to no avail. Lately it was getting so that either
one or the other would come home too tired or busy to be excited about
anything, especially at night. Was it just coincidence or was there
something more? But Tom knew the real reason, so to set up the scheme,
he told her that today, he was going to make up for it. All he'd tell
her was his request for the strange attire.
But the request was there. Mary usually didn't wear her boots
unless it was snowing outside, so she made sure to clean off all the dirt
and salt the day before. So this morning, instead of waking him up with
a good morning kiss, she snuck out of bed, took a shower, and put on her
boots and gloves. It felt strange to her, being naked while wearing
these "outdoor" items. In the past, she's tried various negliges and
bathing suits, of which both their favorites turned out to be simple
leotards or one-pieces. But now, it was as if she was wearing the exact
opposite, something that covered everything EXCEPT what was normally
covered with her spandex. She marveled at the insensitivity and coolness
that her gloves gave her as she lightly explored that feeling on her
body, thinking "well, I GUESS this could be sexy, if this is what he has
in mind." Feeling funny, she put on her robe, and then prepared
breakfast. With this she gently woke Tom.
"Wow," said Tom, "breakfast in bed!"
"And me with nothing on underneath!"
"A double delight!" he said. They both giggled a bit at this
inside joke they had when they ordered a dish called "Double Delight" at
a Chinese restaurant. He noticed her covered hands and feet, and smiled
even more.
After the breakfast dishes, Tom led Mary to the den, where he
turned around and started to kiss her. The long, empassioned kind.
Sometime during the kiss, the robe fell from her. Eventually, they
stopped when he took a broomstick from on top of the table behind her,
held it horizontally behind her back, and guided her arms around behind
the broomstick.
"Hold this here." he whispered.
She turned around as she watched him open the drawer of the table
and take out a few lengths of clothesline. "Ooo, bondage games!" she
said with delight. They've tried a few scenes before, nothing as wild as
they've read on ASB, but enjoyable nevertheless.
With one length he used to tie her elbows, which were crooked
around the wooden bar behind her. When he was finished, he asked her to
see if she could move. Her elbows were fixed in a slightly bent
position, and because she wasn't all that flexible, her arms remained
immobile, pressing the stick against her back.
Smiling, he took out something and held it to her bottom lip.
"What?" she tried to say, but as she opened her mouth to form the "ah"
sound, he started gently pressing the round object in. He kept pressing
and she kept giving, all the while her lips working frantically around
the gag. Finally, when the ball gag was all the way in, he buckled it
behind her head. It wasn't a particularly large gag, it fit almost all
the way in her mouth, leaving about a third of it exposed through her
front teeth. "Why are you doing this?" she tried to say, but the only
sounds that came out were mewing sounds. "Mewing sounds!" she though.
"How humiliating!" She couldn't believe what was happening to her. When
they played before, they've always had a lot of fun talking, "why's he
gagging me now?"
Tom went to one end of the room and sat in his easy chair. He
looked at her, smiling. She glared at him, then frantically shook around
for a while, trying to get free. She only managed to free some hair, a
few of which strands fell in front of her eyes. She couldn't even shake
the hair from her eyes! "And that bastard's enjoying this!" she thought
with disgust. No matter how she struggled, it was as if that stick
behind her back was now part of her body. She could get rid of it like
she could get rid of her own arm. It was humiliating, the stick
following her movements like a shadow, constantly reminding her of her
impotence, not even able to say anything.
"You look beautiful when you're angry!" he cheerfully said.
"Ugh!" was all she could reply, in frustration. She stamped her foot.
Nothing much, she thought, but at least it's something. To her, it was a
little bit better than being totally impotent. But just a little bit.
Even then, the practically useless stamp, and the tingling soreness from
that foot after the stamp, served to remind her of her shame.
Tom pointed to another spot on the floor and told Mary "go over
there." Mary shook her head in defiance. Tom's face changed from
grinning to one of mock anger. "GO OVER THERE!" Actually, that made
Mary feel a little better, at least even helpless like this, she could
still get even a bit by annoying Tom. But then Tom just got up and tied
a length of rope to the stick and sat back down, nonchalantly holding the
other end. He asked again "Are you going to go over there?" Defiantly
Mary shook her head, while trying to smirk.
Tom pulled on the rope, drawing Mary towards him. In her high-
heeled boots, she couldn't put up much resistance, so she found herself
being helplessly pulled towards Tom. While still sitting in his easy
chair, Tom swung her around so that she was facing him, exposed. "My,
you have a wet pussy." he laughed. Mary couldn't take the embarassment.
Here she was, exposed, helpless and frustrated, and all those emotions
sent tingling sensations to her sensitive areas. She wanted to ignore
those sensations, but now that Tom just pointed out the state of her
vagina, she couldn't ignore those feelings. She somehow felt betrayed by
her own body. What was even more degrading was how he was laughing, as
if he knew. Or at least knew it would bother her. She felt like a slut.
He licked his lips and started fondling her breasts. Mary is a
bit on the full-figured side, which her breasts reflected fully. As a
result, they frequently received a lot of attention. Now the sensations
could not be ignored at all. The tensions, and the sensations, worked on
her and she finally gave up trying to resist. But as she started giving
in to her arousal, he stopped. "Not even close!" she thought in
frustration, "just a few minutes more!" She tried to lean forward to
him, in hopes that he'd continue. But no, he just sent her back out into
the middle of the room. He laughed as she tried to touch herself, but it
was frustrating that her hands could come to within inches of relief, no
matter how she twisted or stretched. "So close, yet so far away!" he
laughed.
"What a jerk!" she thought, as she sneered at him. At least, she
tried to manage a sneer around the gag. Tom noticed the attempt and,
feigning annoyance again, pulled her over to him. This time after
arousing her again, he tied her hands together in front of her. The
rope, stretched tautly between her hands, cut into her soft flesh of her
abdomen, further restricting what little movement her hands now had.
With a few more squeezes of her breasts and strokes and pinches of her
nipples, he sent her back to the middle of the room.
Tom reveled in the visual display Mary was giving him, as she
continued to struggle despite the now total rigidity of her upper body.
It was fun to keep her frustrated in this way, fishing her back, arousing
her, then humiliating her by making her go wherever he wanted. Each time
he fished her back, he noticed how much more obviously damp her vulva
became. He made fun of his "trained animal," making the visible flush in
Mary's face more noticable.
Tom then used a length of rope to tie around her torso, making
several loops above and below her breasts, digging into and pinning her
upper arms to her body. "Why's he DOING this?" she thought, "I'm
helpless enough as it is, this tie doesn't do anything..." As if reading
her mind, Tom lightly slapped and jiggled her breasts, making her more
aware of how the increased pressure has engorged more blood into her
breasts and nipples, making them a bit more sensitive now. Mary looked
with disgust at how the ropes cut into her feminine beauty. "Not that I
had much before," she thought. But now the sight of the base of her
breasts pinched, and their sagging more than usual, infuriated her.
Taking advantage of her predicament, Tom again fondled her
breasts, and then watched them fall back down. He sent her back to the
middle of the room. This time as Mary struggled briefly, her now pinched
breasts flopped around more than ever. Each time they slapped back
against her torso, the feeling of increased tension and mass served as
another reminder to her of her situation. When Mary stopped, Tom tucked
a pencil under the fold of each of her breasts, and facetiously remarked
how well they stayed up. Infuriated, Mary shook and shook until the
pencils dislodged and fell, rather have the feelings of her bound breasts
than the added humiliation of being a pencil holder.
"Oh, so you want them UP, eh?" Tom sarcastically said. Mary
looked at him wide-eyed, at once filled with anger, and fear of what he
meant by that. Taking the piece of rope that was dangling from her
breast ties, he once again encircled her breasts, this time digging in
right through the middle, at nipple level. As he tightened this rope,
the groove it made in her breasts increased until it became a crevice,
cutting her boobs in two. Her nipples, still hard, peaked just above the
breast-rope. Her mouth was extremely busy with the gag as he made this
last tie. She couldn't believe her sensations now, the intensity at this
level sent waves of electricity shooting through her body, down her back,
through her pelvis and around her vulva. As the tingling swept through
her legs, the realization that she hasn't sat down for a while now and
the tiredness of her legs made her tense those up, increasing the overall
tingling sensations. As a reflex action, her arms tensed up, that action
plus the impedence of her binds sent shivers back up her spine and
through her arms. She couldn't decide if this was pleasureable, or just
plain annoying. Pleasure so intense that it was unbearable? Or
pleasureable pain?
Tom noticed the immediate effect of the tie, was that her vagina
had become so wet, a small, slow trickle started down her leg. With his
finger, he pressed into the soft flesh of the inside of her thigh and
proceeded up, scooping up some of the sweet nectar. As he did this she
crossed her knees, trying to press her thighs together, but the
combination of trying to balance on a high heel and the way the boots
molded her flesh prevented her in succeeding to stop him. "Well, what do
we have here?" he mocked, holding the finger in front of her, and then
sucking it. He caught a glimpse of tears welling up in her eyes before
she rolled her eyes back and shut them, looking away from him. He
grabbed her firmly by the back of her neck and turned her head to face
him.
With her eyes still closed, he said with a stern voice "Listen,
now I'm going to go out for a little while. While I'm gone you are not
to sit in my chair. Understand?" Strangely, these words comforted her a
bit. Here she was, fighting back tears, these humiliating tears. Why
were there tears? Was her embarrassment that intense? "UNDERSTAND??" he
repeated, in a lounder voice. She quickly nodded her head, "yes, yes,
just go away, please" she thought.
While he was gone, Mary had a chance to recover a bit. Her tears
subsided, and she was thankful for his absence, at least for a while.
For a while she also struggled with trying to dislodge her rope that cut
into her breasts. At least now they didn't flop around anymore, but the
pressure that the rope had on her nipples was excruciating. "Just half
an inch, that's all I have to move it..." she kept repeating to herself
as she twisted and tried contorting her body. But no luck, her whole
upper body was just as rigid as before, all she could do was move her
neck and wiggle her fingers. "At least I can still walk" she said to
herself. Not that she could walk anywhere. Tom locked the door on his
way out. And the ache in her legs became more noticable, as she
increased the tempo of shifting her weight, trying to relieve the
soreness. If she wanted to sit, there was the floor. The only chair in
the room was Tom's chair, and she was warned against sitting in it. Mary
wasn't a good girl, but she knew better than to disobey. Tom's fertile
imagination had thought of cruel and unusual punishments before.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny part of a lamp while
she paced. The sight of herself made her at once wince and clench her
teeth around the gag. "I look like a four-boobed beast" she spitefully
said to herself. "Where IS that buffoon, anyway?" Mary found herself
strangely starting to miss Tom, if anything at least for the company. A
sardonic Tom was better than no Tom at all. At least he'd keep her mind
off her aches.
The click of the door being unlocked and opened made Mary jump a
bit. The sight of Tom entering with another stick confirmed her worst
fears; he seldom did anything in halves. Her anticipation ended when he
made her stand in the middle of the room and spread her legs. Tom then
proceeded to tie the stick to the back of her ankles, keeping them
spread. If she felt totally helpless before, she felt even more so now.
She knew better than to kick, though, for the way she was spread wouldn't
have been very effective, and at this point to kick was to invite
trouble. She wasn't spread particularly wide, only about twice shoulder
width apart, but since Mary had never been very flexible to begin with,
she felt stretched. And at the same time awkward and vulnerable.
Especially combined with the way her whole upper torso was stiff with her
back arched. Even the small privilege of being able to shift her weight
had been denied her.
When Tom was finished, she tried to take a few steps. A futile
attempt, more of a symbolic protest against her increasing impotence,
than anything else. Each step was barely an inch, but Mary knew that
right now, a fall would hurt. When she turned her head to Tom, all she
saw was his smiling, mocking face. "Still have a bit of kick in you, eh?
I'll put that to good use!" said Tom, in that tone of voice that Mary was
beginning to learn to cringe from.
He tied one end of a length of rope to the middle of the leg-
splitter bar, and looped the other end over the top of the bands of rope
that was securing her upper arms. Pulling down to get rid of the slack,
Tom noticed Mary manage a gasp through her gag as the pressure on her
breasts increased. Keeping the rope taut, Tom threaded the rope between
the crack of her ass, between the lips of her labia, under the rope
between her wrists, until finally looping around her breast ropes in
front. As he pulled down on the rope to tighten this bond, he watched
her struggle, first trying to arch her back backwards, then forwards, but
finding no way to relieve the tension.
She found out that she could bear down a little by bending her
knees ever so slightly, that was all she could manage. But when she did,
his constant pulling on the untied rope took away the slack. "Stupid
move," she thought. When she looked up, she saw him looking at her. She
returned the look with a glare, as he tightened the rope some more. He
finally tied off the rope at her midriff between her breasts, bunching
the once-parallel bands of rope binding her breasts into one thick
bundle. Then he walked back to his chair and sat down to watch her.
Mary's mind was racing with all the new tensions. Besides her
breasts now being more tight than ever, every breath she took she felt on
her neather parts. Suddenly she realized that any movement she made now,
made her aware of her split vulva. She couldn't completely straighten
out her knees anymore due to the pressure of the crotch strap; any
twisting she made changed slightly the direction of pressure on all her
sensitive spots on her perineum. Even the waving of her wrists, the most
insignificant of movements, changed the tension her wrist ropes had on
the crotch strap. About the only thing left to move, her neck, she threw
back in frustration and shame, only to find that the slight change in her
posture due to that motion likewise made her aware of her sex. Her sex.
"Damn him, why does he humiliate me so?" she thought with audible mews
through the gag. She saw him sitting in his chair, looking at her, with
that same rotten grin on his face. Just that, looking at her. "What
does he expect me to do?" she asked herself. Not that she could do
anything besides stand there, with barely noticible outward signs of
struggling.
Eventually Mary's legs became so sore from standing in that
slightly bent position that she decided to try to ignore this new tie and
straighten them. As she did so, she clenched her gag and stiffened her
body as the act cut deeper into her lower body. Despite her tensing her
gluteals, anus and vagina into rock-hard structures, she couldn't help
but be more aware of the unbreakable cord pressing on them, violating her
most intimate areas. The sounds of her grunt and heavy breathing during
the exersion were interrupted by clapping.
Tom was clapping. She glared at him with a "You bastard" glare,
as he sarcastically complimented her on her effort. He could see the
slight but obvious lift in her moist crotch with the exersion, as well as
the beginnings of two riverlettes of trickles down both her legs. He got
up and massaged her thighs, spreading the thick goo on her skin. Now the
coolness of a larger area of her moist skin spoke again to her of her
violation and humiliation. She could barely keep her balance like this,
much less struggle in symbolic protest.
With a gasp of surprise, Tom then leaned her backwards, and gently
lowered her to the ground. Though his arms were strong, Mary felt a
momentary thrill of instability, as if flying through space in a roller-
coaster.
The bonds felt different to her now that she lay supine. The
gelatinous masses that are her breasts no longer felt the pull of gravity
caudaly against the breast rope; now it's as if the pressure was on a
different angle. She could bend her legs a little more th relieve the
strain on her nether areas, though in order to do that she had to spread
her knees. "Offering your pussy to me? Aww, how nice." came another one
of Tom's infuriating remarks. With a blush (was she now more prone to
blushing while laying down? she asked herself) she tried to straighten
her legs.
A nagging sensation began to take its toll. While lying on the
ground, the stick that was sandwiched between her elbows and back was now
pressing into her back and upper arms due to her weight. It wasn't
exactly cutting off her circulation, and her corpulence saved her from
the first few minutes, but now the agony was noticably unbearable. She
tried to sit up. Not normally flexible, she was even less so now with
her legs spread as much as they were. Furthermore, when she reached with
heroic effort halfway into a sitting position, the crotch rope rode up
and tightened. With her stomach muscles screaming to stop the exersion,
and with the increased pressure and violation on her crotch area, she
stopped and tried to lower herself down, gently.
She rested for a little while, but the ache in her arms and back
from the pole returned. She tried to bend her legs and then sit up. She
tried to bend her legs as much as she could, but because of the high
heels of her boots, she couldn't get her feet flat on the floor, much
less dig her heels in to the carpet to stabilize her. She got up quite a
ways farther this time, though she was still leaning back a little due to
the strain. She tried to bend her knees just a little more, and then sit
up just a little more, until finally she realized that it wasn't so much
the tight crotch rope that prevented her from sitting up fully, as it was
just that she wasn't flexible enough to sit up. Confounded, she slowly
lay back down.
She lay on the ground exhausted, breathing heavily, the only
activity possible at the moment. Even her breathing seemed especially
loud, probably due to her supine position, which only testified to her
total helplessness. But eventually the pressure from her elbow-pole
became a bit too much to bear again. "No!" she thought and mumbled out,
as she flexed her knees and tried to dig her heels into the carpet out of
frustration. She realized that if she arched her back while digging into
the carpet, she could alleviate the discomfort in her arms and back a
bit. She thrust her pelvis up, trying to "walk in" her heels, bending
one knee while pressing with the other heel, then digging in with that
first heel while bending the other knee, etc. while increasing the
pressure on her upper shoulders and the back of her neck. It was
difficult to keep her balance this way, especially since she could only
use the high heels of her boots, but eventually she worked her feet in
enough to touch the ground with the balls of her feet.
For a while, it was more comfortable, not to mention more stable,
in this position, especially since in this position the crotch rope was
so slack that the relief alone felt like heaven. But heaven reared its
ugly head when eventually the strain on her back, shoulders, neck and
thigh muscles made even that position uncomfortable. As she slid back
down to relieve the tension, all the old tensions came infuriatingly
back. "Is there no comfortable position here?" she lamented to herself.
"Does he know what pain this tie's causing me?" she wondered, tilting her
head, looking for Tom. Though strangely she realized that he hadn't been
verbally humiliating her while in this position, his knowing look gave
her the answer. "He knows, he knows! That bastard!"
He knew, more than she, as he could read in her eyes it was time
to stop. He sat her up and, positioning himself behind her to gently
cradle her torso in his arms, looked into her eyes and whispered "poor
Mary, to have suffered so for so long." Then as he kissed her on the
cheek and gently stroked the other side of her face and neck with a
finger, her eyes welled up with tears. The tears mirrored the deep
conflict that was raging inside Mary. When she first experienced it so
many years ago, it was so scary and reprehensible that they've
misinterpreted it so many times. Was it Mary trying to resolve her love
for her tormenter? Was she just crazy? But now they both knew what was
going on, that Mary, her life before Tom, had been very "pure." That's
the way she grew up, always striving to do good and shun evil, and that
pleasure with any man was evil, leading to a lot of inhibitions in Mary
even after marriage to Tom. "I'm a GOOD girl!" she thought, as tears
started flowing freely now. Throughout the scene, what Tom did to her
was a representation of her inner bound frustration against her
inhibitions. The misrepresentations before only served to alienate
herself from Tom and inhibit herself even more. Tom only forced her to
confront the part of her that's been repressing her life, the monstrous
part that occasionally re-emerged.
And now, as she leaned back against Tom's chest and pelvis,
feeling his comfort and gentleness through his fluffy robe as they rocked
back and forth, with his hardness against her lower back, she felt
somehow at peace, no longer in pain, somehow free. Somehow, the way Tom
was stroking and cradling her, she felt safe, loved. And when her tears
subsided, and her sensual side resurfaced, victorious over her
inhibitions, Tom took off her gag. She started to say something when Tom
put a finger to her lips, and whispered "shhhh. shh. I took off your gag
for a reason, not to talk. We're going to try something completely
different this time. Groan when you gotta." With the last four words
she stiffened at the surge of excitement that suddenly shot through her.
It wasn't exactly talking dirty, but Tom could be so powerful with these
subliminal suggestions. Something definitely was happening to her, for
even her crotch rope, which was tight even with her legs bent, felt nice.
"Snug?" she thought to herself. He seemed to acknowledge this
transformation in her.
While his arms were still around her, he gently stroked both
nipples as he kissed her on her neck. She gasped, practically right in
his ear with his head down on her neck. She started to appologize as he
embraced her head with an arm and whispered "shh, sh-sh, that's all
right, keep it up when you have to. I want to experience every gasp and
moan of your pleasure."
For what seemed like hours they just stayed in that position as
they rocked, with his strokes on the nipple progressing to slight pinches
to twists and pulls, his kisses turning to caresses to deep sucks and
licks to nibbles to bites, and her gasps turning to moans to finally
deep-throated screams of pure pleasure. As her excitement built she was
glad he had tied her so securely, even though this caused her
frustration, this time of not being able to stimulate herself as much as
she liked. She kicked, trying to provoke an orgasm within herself with
the crotch rope while her upper torso was sensitized beyond belief.
Though she was glad she could at least do this, she wished he hadn't
split her like this so that he could at least enter her or put in
something. Anything. The conflicts in her mind now were, in their own
way, delicious.
Tom slowed down a bit as he opened his robe, then resumed arousing
her with his mouth and hands. Now as they rocked back and forth she
could feel his skin, his body, rubbing against her back. His hardness
was laying squished between his lower abdomen and her lower back, and she
could now hear him intermittently groaning as well when her rocking body
rubbed against his tender underside of his penis.
Finally, as if a secret signal had been given, he stopped rocking
and held her nipples. Then he slowly pulled and stretched them. He
could feel her tense and try to arch her back even further. As her gasps
subsided he pulled a little bit farther. Normally with her large breasts
it'd be hard to stretch just the nipples to the point he was stretching,
but the rope under her nipples helped. She kicked a little and threw her
head back, gasps comming more frequent as he rolled the now inch long
nipples hard between his thumbs and forefingers. As she calmed down
somewhat again he gently pulled even harder. She couldn't believe the
sensations she was experiencing now as her head, while still back, rolled
from side to side. When she rolled to one side, she buried her face into
his hair, breathing in his manly smell as he pulled even harder. He
could feel her hard breathing on the back of his neck and see her legs
kicking while he pulled and pulled.
Then, all of a sudden, it happened. A vague connection between
her nipples and her nether parts suddenly became acutely perceptible as
what felt like lightening shot through, tensing every one of her muscles
as she breathed a gasping, soft but high pitched orgasm. She didn't
notice her legs straightening out all the way. At this time, Tom quickly
pulled her nipple rope down and squeezed her breasts, engorging her
nipples with blood. She spasmed again with an even more intense orgasm.
When she caught her breath again and had some semblance of
consciousness, with her eyes still closed, she whispered to Tom, "thank
you..." and after a few more gasps, more softly, "release..."
Epilogue
"Wow, that WAS special!" Mary said, happily. Tom could only
smile in reply as he went about the long task of untying her.
"You know what it was?" he asked.
"It was wonderful," she replied.
"This was the first time you came without either one of us
touching your clit."
She blushed. Whether it was from the way he said the word "clit"
or from the discovery of something that was true of her, she didn't know.
She instinctively tried to reach down, in realization, but as her arms
were the first bonds, they would be the last to be untied. Tom was still
unwrapping her torso ropes.
"Oh, but did that rope down there count?" she asked, in a
flirtatious and innocent grin.
"Did it rub?"
"No, but it was kind of tight." She was thinking of other
lushious times he played with a crotch rope on her.
"Nice?"
After Tom finished untying her and ceremoniously flung her arm
pole on to his chair, she turned to him and, kissing him, said "I should
relieve YOU now, you poor thing. I know how much you love to play like
this."
"No need," he said, lightly pushing Mary away a bit and showing
her a glistening wet spot on his abdomen, a bit below his navel. Then he
reached behind her and rubbed an almost-dry sticky puddle on her lower
back where his penis lay during the session.
"Wow, I didn't even NOTICE!"
"Neither did I until I pulled away from you. Mary, you were
INTENSE!"
"How did it happen?"
"You didn't notice because when it came out, we were so hot that
it was the same temperature. I didn't notice because I was so in tune
with YOUR shivering, and I guess it kind of dwarfed mine..."
"Do we really have to wait ANOTHER month before playing our
'Confront the Inhibition' game again?" Mary asked with mock pouting,
reaching down to her still unsatisfied region between her legs. Now it
was her turn to send messages to Tom, whose semi-flacidness started to
respond and intensify to her words and gesture.
"Well, we can go into the bedroom now and improvise something..." he
said, as they walked out of the den arm-in-arm.
*** The End ***
ObCopyWrite: Douga, 1992
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