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Longshot's Fantasy scene 4
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.
From: [email protected] (Longshot)
Subject: Fantasy Scene IV
Been a while since I wrote I-III in the span of a week or so. What follows
has little direct sexual content. It has no throbbing penii descriptions,
nor drip-by-drip details of engorged labia. It does have something of a
disclaimer, however. It's not that long. The focus here is on the binding,
not what it leads to.
[Writer's note: The device described below does in fact exist. I would like to
credit a person in the greater Denver-area (who shall remain anonymous) with
its creation, though he may have gotten the idea elsewhere, as I have. I was
able to view it in action, and it inspired this story. The actual use of it
*should* be mostly from my imagination, but may well be inspired by the events
I saw transpire. Again, all participants will remain anonymous, but I must
acknowledge the inspiration they provided.]
The Board.
I've never known anything else to call it. From my experience, it is one of the
most psychologically intense bondage toys I've ever seen. To play with this,
you give yourself over to a degree of restraint unequaled in mere handcuffs or
harnesses. When you lay on The Board, you are virtually immobilized, from your
head to your toes.
It's a wonderfully simple device, and has an elegant look to it. Smooth,
polished wood, cut in the shape of a rather large human. Sized larger than my
6'3" frame. Perhaps six and a half feet tall, this human silhouette. Stained
a deep brown, and with a surface like that of a fine antique. Centered within
this regal brown outline is a smaller version, this one of red velvet. Velvet
covering cushioning that makes up a 6'4" person, fastened to the backing board
by shiny gold studs. Surrounding this red cushion are eye-hooks, spaced about
1" apart, running the entire outline of the inner form. Looking at it as a
whole, the harmony of the solid support, cushioned bed, and array of tie-down
points lends it a sense of sinister efficiency.
It has taken time for our level of trust to reach the point where you will
surrender yourself to me on the board. In preparation, I have cleared the
room of unnecessary items and placed the board in the center, surrounded by
about a dozen candles, set a safe distance away from the play area, but close
enough to provide all the light I will need. I have all the implements I wish
to use this evening. It is time to begin. I instruct you to undress completely
and lay down on your back on the padded part. Your hands shake slightly as
you disrobe; anxiety, anticipation, or a mixture of both?
You lay upon the board, and the first stage begins.
Carefully, I align your legs and arms along the pads and centered between the
rows of eye-hooks. A little adjustment to your waist and hips, and I pause to
be certain that you are centered on the padding. You are. I knew you were
from a first glance, but seeing you like this excites me tremendously. You
aren't bound yet, and you could get up and leave on whim. But you lay there,
trembling slightly, in anticipation. And my pause to reflect on this is only
drawing out more.
I consider blindfolding you, but decide not to just yet. I want you to see the
whole process that will bind you. I want to be able to gauge your reactions.
And react you do, as I pick up the coil of rope and begin to anchor one end of
it to a hook at your feet.
What follows is an exercise in patience, as much or more so for me as for you.
The rope is criss-crossed up your leg. Alternating hooks from one side then the
other, I slowly work my way up your calf, then your thigh. As I reach your
hips, the rope proceeds back downwards, turning mere diagonal lines into
bright white "X"'s of rope on the bare skin of your leg. I stop periodically
to assure I am not cutting off circulation. I can't help but note that as I
reached your hips and groin, I could smell your excitement. Not even finished
with your one leg, and you're wet already. This is going to be a long night
for you, dear. When I've reached the foot I started with, I make a series of
loops through the ring of hooks surrounding the foot, then move to the other
leg and repeat the process, again noting your excitement as I wrap rope
across the top of your thigh. Finally, I've reached something of a half-way
point: Your legs are immobilized all the way up to your waist.
I hook the rope so that it does not slacken, and I step back to admire my
work so far. Seeing you like this, trying to work your toes and legs against
the rope already has me rock hard. Perhaps I shouldn't be so scolding of you
for being as excited as you are. But then, it's not me tied up.
Working your upper body is more difficult. I run the cord from the foot to the
ring of hooks around the hand. I bind the arm from wrist to shoulder as I
did with the leg, ending up with loops over the hand. I then start on your
abdomen and chest. This is the fun part. As I work the ropes up to the
collarbone, there is little difference. But on the way back to the waist, I
pay special attention to your lovely breasts. Breasts like these should be
more easily accessible. So I take a few loops of rope to position your breasts
and support them in this position. Once I've reached your waist again, I do
the opposing arm and hand, ending up at the shoulder and collar bone, where
the ropes on your torso left off. I pause long enough to place a blindfold on
you, then the rope climbs from collar to crown and back again. Your bondage is
complete. You are almost completely immobile. Now, more than in any other
scene we've played, you are under my control.
At this point, I can't even tell which of us is more excited.
I review, aloud, the list of items I prepared for this evening. This evening
is different. I want you to know exactly what you are in store for.
"Feather duster. Sable paintbrush, inch wide. Sable brush, quarter-inch wide.
Pinwheel. Hm. I've forgotten a few. Just a moment."
Before leaving to get more toys, I take a smaller vibrator, something in the
Silver Bullet range, turn it on, and tuck it under the ropes that go
conveniently (and not coincidentally) over your clitoris.
I notice as I leave that, despite the completeness of your immobility, you
still have room to start rocking your pelvis back and forth.
From [email protected] Fri Jul 16 15:05:53 1993
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Date: Fri, 16 Jul 93 15:07:42 MDT
From: Randy J Ray <[email protected]>
Mailer: Elm [revision: 66.33]
Status: O
[Writer's note: The device described below does in fact exist. I would like to
credit a person in the greater Denver-area (who shall remain anonymous) with
its creation, though he may have gotten the idea elsewhere, as I have. I was
able to view it in action, and it inspired this story. The actual use of it
*should* be mostly from my imagination, but may well be inspired by the events
I saw transpire. Again, all participants will remain anonymous, but I must
acknowledge the inspiration they provided.]
The Board.
I've never known anything else to call it. From my experience, it is one of the
most psychologically intense bondage toys I've ever seen. To play with this,
you give yourself over to a degree of restraint unequaled in mere handcuffs or
harnesses. When you lay on The Board, you are virtually immobilized, from your
head to your toes.
It's a wonderfully simple device, and has an elegant look to it. Smooth,
polished wood, cut in the shape of a rather large human. Sized larger than my
6'3" frame. Perhaps si and a half feet tall, this human silhouette. Stained
a deep brown, and with a surface like that of a fine antique. Centered within
this regal brown outline is a smaller version, this one of red velvet. Velvet
covering cushioning that makes up a 6'4" person, fastened to the backing board
by shiny gold studs. Surrounding this red cushion are eye-hooks, spaced about
1" apart, running the entire outline of the inner form. Looking at it as a
whole, the harmony of the solid support, cushioned bed, and array of tie-down
points lends it a sense of sinister efficiency.
It has taken time for our level of trust to reach the point where you will
surrender yourself to me on the board. In preparation, I have cleared the
room of unnecessary items and placed the board in the center, surrounded by
about a dozen candles, set a safe distance away from the play area, but close
enough to provide all the light I will need. I have all the implements I wish
to use this evening. It is time to begin. I instruct you to undress completely
and lay down on your back on the padded part. Your hands shake slightly as
you disrobe; anxiety, anticipation, or a mixture of both?
You lay upon the board, and the first stage begins.
Carefully, I align your legs and arms along the pads and centered between the
rows of eye-hooks. A little adjustment to your waist and hips, and I pause to
be certain that you are centered on the padding. You are. I knew you were
from a first glance, but seeing you like this excites me tremendously. You
aren't bound yet, and you could get up and leave on whim. But you lay there,
trembling slightly, in anticipation. And my pause to reflect on this is only
drawing out more.
I consider blindfolding you, but decide not to just yet. I want you to see the
whole process that will bind you. I want to be able to gauge your reactions.
And react you do, as I pick up the coil of rope and begin to anchor one end of
it to a hook at your feet.
What follows is an exercise in patience, as much or more so for me as for you.
The rope is criss-crossed up your leg. Alternating hooks from one side then the
other, I slowly work my way up your calf, then your thigh. As I reach your
hips, the rope proceeds back downwards, turning mere diagonal lines into
bright white "X"'s of rope on the bare skin of your leg. I stop periodically
to assure I am not cutting off circulation. I can't help but note that as I
reached your hips and groin, I could smell your excitement. Not even finished
with your one leg, and you're wet already. This is going to be a long night
for you, dear. When I've reached the foot I started with, I make a series of
loops through the ring of hooks surrounding the foot, then move to the other
leg and repeat the process, again noting your excitement as I wrap rope
across the top of your thigh. Finally, I've reached something of a half-way
point: Your legs are immobilized all the way up to your waist.
I hook the rope so that it does not slacken, and I step back to admire my
work so far. Seeing you like this, trying to work your toes and legs against
the rope already has me rock hard. Perhaps I shouldn't be so scolding of you
for being as excited as you are. But then, it's not me tied up.
Working your upper body is more difficult. I run the cord from the foot to the
ring of hooks around the hand. I bind the arm from wrist to shoulder as I
did with the leg, ending up with loops over the hand. I then start on your
abdomen and chest. This is the fun part. As I work the ropes up to the
collarbone, there is little difference. But on the way back to the waist, I
pay special attention to your lovely breasts. Breasts like these should be
more easily accessible. So I take a few loops of rope to position your breasts
and support them in this position. Once I've reached your waist again, I do
the opposing arm and hand, ending up at the shoulder and collar bone, where
the ropes on your torso left off. I pause long enough to place a blindfold on
you, then the rope climbs from collar to crown and back again. Your bondage is
complete. You are almost completely immobile. Now, more than in any other
scene we've played, you are under my control.
At this point, I can't even tell which of us is more excited.
I review, aloud, the list of items I prepared for this evening. This evening
is different. I want you to know exactly what you are in store for.
"Feather duster. Sable paintbrush, inch wide. Sable brush, quarter-inch wide.
Pinwheel. Hm. I've forgotten a few. Just a moment."
Before leaving to get more toys, I take a smaller vibrator, something in the
Silver Bullet range, turn it on, and tuck it under the ropes that go
conveniently (and not coincidentally) over your clitoris.
I notice as I leave that, despite the completeness of your immobility, you
still have room to start rocking your pelvis back and forth.
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