"This is ridiculous!" Francesca exclaimed scattering ropes everywhere. "Look, let me demonstrate on you."
Matt backed away from her.
"Hey youíre not tying me up. This is your thing not mine."
Francesca could not resist a smile.
"What donít you trust me?" She said sweetly.
"Itís not that," he stammered, "I just donít think I would like it."
"Iím not going to leave you, I just want to show you, and I cannot tie my own hands."
"You managed it the other day," he retorted.
"That was different. Just put your hands in front of you," she ordered, "so you can see what Iím doing," Matt was obviously still reluctant.
"For goodness sake!" She exclaimed, "Itís me whose standing here naked, I can hardly molest you when you are fully clothed, besides, one rope does not constitute tying someone up." She looked at him in exasperation. "Thatís half the problem, you just donít understand."
"No I don't understand," Matt admitted, "but I am trying really."
Fransesca softened a bit.
"I know, I know," she said gently, "itís just I never realized how difficult this was going to be.
"I thought you wanted to be tied up." He said weakly.
"I do," she said, "But it has to be real, otherwise it is no fun. Look itís quite simple," she said grabbing his hands and putting them together in front of him. "You use the rope doubled." Matt seemed surprised. "Pull through and back the other way, round a couple more times, Split, and cinch the middle. Ends up a bit like rope handcuffs. Now, how's that?"
Matt tried to move his hands apart unsuccessfully.
"You have to try harder than that!" She exclaimed.
Matt made a show of struggling.
"Why bother, you are bound to have made it firm."
Fransesca threw up her hands in despair.
"Perhaps I should have let Paul come back. He at least would have made a good job of it."
"Thereís no need for that." She saw him straining to keep his voice even. "I just need to understand what you want," he continued.
"And Iím trying to show you," she answered, desperately trying to keep calm herself. "Look, try and touch my breasts." She suggested.
Mattís hands were still tied together so she could easily avoid them.
"Frustrating isnít it?"
"I told you I was not into this." Matt complained, but he did try nonetheless. Eventually Fransesca allowed him to reach her. The touch was light, more like a tag in a childís game than an attempt at eroticism.
"Look how much extra movement you have got already, and you were not really trying," she said, redirecting his attention back to his hands.
"I suppose so," he conceded, but he was obviously not sure what she was getting at.
"Even if you tie my hands properly," she explained carefully, "you need to reduce the amount of movement in my arms to stop me squirming free."
She untied his hands and he was visibly relieved.
"I still do not understand why you are trying to get free," he said stubbornly. "I thought you wanted to be tied up..."
"Ok, ok, letís stop a minute. I will try and explain what bondage is all about, at least," she corrected herself, "what I think bondage is all about. Perhaps we should go and get a drink. I will tidy this lot up again and throw on a dressing gown."
Fransesca neatly coiled the ropes back up and slipped them into her vanity case. It would take a few minutes for Matt to boil the kettle and make a drink. She found him waiting patiently for her to join him downstairs. She had put the gown on, but it was deliberately loose and tantalizing. She was sure that he still loved her, and that a few glimpses of naked flesh could still provoke a response.† She sat provocatively looking hard at him.
"Bondage is about frustration and suspense," she began, trying to formulate the words to say. "In my fantasies I am kidnapped, which sounds anything but good, I admit, but that is only the setting of the scene, the reason for the bondage. You understand so far?"
Matt nodded gravely.
"The goal at the end is to have an orgasm, the bondage is to prolong the getting there."
She thought she saw a glimmer of understanding, and continued encouraged.
"If I am free I could just reach between my legs and rub myself off," she said opening her legs and reaching down, making sure he had a grand view. She could not remember ever doing this in front of him in all their years of marriage. It was gratifying to see him sit up and take notice. She allowed herself a few light strokes and he watched transfixed.
"I assume you have masturbated?" She asked.
Matt did not answer immediately; he seemed mesmerized by her actions.
"Of course," he faltered, obviously a little embarrassed by the conversation.
Itís amazing what you never talk about, she thought idly. She was starting to enjoy herself then remembering what she was about she stopped rubbing and looked back at him.
"It can take as little as a couple of minutes to reach a climax," she said wistfully.
"As long as that?"
His interruption caught her off guard. She laughed. She had not considered Matt to be Ďtrigger happyí. His comment suggested that he was getting into the swing of things at last.
"The idea of bondage is to make the time longer," she said almost triumphantly.
"It seems a little drastic," he complained.
"Maybe," she conceded, "but it takes all sorts. Put it this way, when we make love, how long do you think it takes? I am not being critical," she added hastily, "just be honest, half an hour? Three quarters?† Maybe an hour if we are really into it?"
"I suppose so," he pondered, "I canít say I have really thought about it, but it always seems great to me."
"Iím not saying our lovemaking has been bad, and like I tried to say last week, for a long time it kept me satisfied, but, even an hour is not very long. I was tied up for over three hours before Paul found me."
"But you said that was a mistake," he challenged.
"And so it was, to a certain extent," she agreed, "but to another extent it was what I have been trying to do all along." She paused, "and it was fantastic."
"I still donít follow. Why was it fantastic?"
Francesca wilted. He was still not getting it.
"I was turned on by the bondage and not able to do anything about it."
Matt seemed unconvinced so she tried another approach. She got up and knelt in front of him. He looked puzzled. She unzipped his fly and he reached down to stop her.
"Not now, we are talking," he chided, but it was obvious the idea had some appeal.
"Iím trying to make a point," she said innocently, "surely you can hold yourself back?" She challenged.
His hands wavered uncertain.
"Of course if your hands were tied behind you, you could not stop me," she added, taking advantage of the moment.
Matt grunted, unable to argue or answer her. She continued her task, extracting his now swelling cock from its protections.
"Now" she said, "if I start stroking you will soon come, agreed?"
"Agreed," he panted and his breathing increased as she gave him a quick kiss. "But if I stop he goes down."
There was little chance of his cock going down, at least in the short term, and she knew it, but Matt was ready to concede her point.
"What if I really got you going and then stopped?"
"I would be very frustrated," he agreed.
"And if I then left you alone what would you do?"
"Probably finish myself off. So what?"
"What if you could not? Say, because your hands were tied?"
Matt considered for a moment.
"I do not think I would like it," he concluded.
"No, but I would." She said quietly, "if it was me." She added.
"You want to be frustrated," he said slowly.
"To be teased but not to cum straight away,"
"For how long?"
"As long as it takes," she said unhelpfully. "I don't know, up until last week I have never been out of control. Iíve had a taste of the real thing and I liked it, now I want you to do it for me."
"But what do I do?"
"You donít have to do anything, at least not all the time. Waiting is part of the game. That is as long as I cannot free myself, then the game is lost. If I am left without anything to concentrate on I will naturally try and get free. That is why the tying is so important. Why I have been getting so frustrated with you. You have to tie me up properly or it does not work."
"I see," he said, and this time she thought he actually did understand.
"And what do I get out of all this?"
"Have you never fantasized about having a woman under your complete control?"
"I canít say that I have at least not tied up. Iím not like that."
"But if I want it, surely that changes things."
"I suppose it does," he said vaguely.
She absentmindedly started squeezing his still exposed prick. It swelled further. She placed her mouth over it. She knew he could not refuse her, and ignored his unconvincing attempts to stop her. She warmed to her task. It was not long before she could taste the first signs of his orgasm, the spurt soon followed. She was ready and willing, taking it and not loosing a drop. She felt him tense and go limp. She held him in her mouth until he started to shrink.
"Now," she said wickedly, "what if you could demand that any time you wanted? Or perhaps you could just drop your pants and fuck me without my being able to stop you. You could look at me naked and helpless. Tease me, touch me, play with me, rub my nipples, kiss or stroke me. You would know that I was enjoying it, yet you would be in control. All I ask is that I eventually get satisfaction, much as you have had now." She added encouragingly.
"I can see some advantages," he said recovering his composure. "Maybe you can explain more about the tying part. I obviously have not got it right yet. How do you like to be tied?"
"Thereís a limit to how you can tie yourself, so I tended to stick to the traditional hands behind, legs together, but there is no reason why you should limit yourself to just that. For a start keeping my legs together tends to prevent conventional sex, though it does also inhibit orgasms."
Matt raised his eyebrows at this piece of information.
"It is much more difficult to let go with my legs held together," she explained, "but the upside is that if I do reach orgasm they tend to be that much bigger. If you hold my legs apart on the other hand it leaves me much more vulnerable and exposed, and more accessible of course. You will just have to experiment, ring the changes; it would be more fun that way. The main thing is to make sue I cannot wriggle free. Itís physiology really."
"The real muscle power is in the thighs and the upper arms," Fransesca explained," so itís no good just tying the wrists and ankles, you have to make sure that the bigger muscles canít ruin all your hard work (as I was trying to show you earlier). If you just tie my hands then I can twist and turn them enough to loosen even the strongest knot. If you anchor my hands, either to a post or even just to my back with a rope round the waist, then I can use it to get purchase. I have something to pull against. The anchor works against you, but, then again, if you want me to stay still then you will have to anchor me down somehow."
Matt was beginning to look bewildered. Fransesca had never realized how complicated bondage was to explain.
"To get over this you have tie my upper arms in some way," she continued. "It reduces my strength and there is less chance of your captive getting free. I will still try however, so you will have to make sure the knots are secure. You do not need to use flash knots, as long as I cannot reach them."
She was not sure that Matt was still with her but continued on bravely, "the same applies to the legs. You need to tie higher up as well, around the knees and often one more higher still. The thigh muscles are very strong, probably the strongest muscles in the body. The traditional sight of a maiden held by two or three small ropes is just not real. She would be free in a trice if left alone. Then there are the ropes for decoration and titillation."
Matt seemed to perk up at this thought, she had his full attention now.
"I always tie my breasts," she told him, "it adds a little something," she said watching him intently. "You can also run a rope between the legs so that it rubs along the clitoris, itís known as a crupper." She informed him.
"There is terminology?" Matt looked surprised. "I hope thereís not a written exam."
"Only a practical," she quipped back. "If you look around in the right places you will find loads of magazines and books let alone the amount of stuff on the Internet. I am hardly unique you know?"
Matt actually looked disappointed.
"You know what I mean," she said critically.
"What about whips and chains and stuff? Thatís what you hear about when this sort if thing comes up."† She thought he looked and sounded little agitated now, flushed at least.
"Thatís S&M or possibly Discipline. It does not follow that everyone wants to be whipped, or have pain, and I have no desires in that direction. For me bondage is restriction, not whipping or beating. You did spank me once, and I might accept the odd pat on the bum, but I am not into the pain thing."
Fransesca watched him absorb this information. She could not tell whether he was pleased or upset with her answers. She hoped he understood because she was going to have to trust him not to hurt her. To be truthful she had subjected herself to pain in an attempt to redirect her attention from orgasm, but because she could always get free she had not allowed it to continue for long. It is said that there was a fine line between pleasure and pain. Maybe she would enjoy it? For now she would not encourage such thoughts
"Thatís another reason for wanting you not Paul." She said hurriedly, "I trust you. I do not know what Paul might do."
She saw no reason not to trust her husband. In all their married life he had only once raised a hand to her in a fit of blind temper. His reaction afterwards had been so full of remorse she was sure he would never do it again. Surely she could not make him angry if she was tied up and helpless?
"How about gags and blindfolds?" He interrupted.
Fransesca was quite pleased with the way the conversation was now going. He was now asking the right questions.
Itís very difficult to gag someone properly," she said measuredly, "although there are some pretty effective ones available if you know where to look. And no I donít have one. You have to be very careful if you are going to silence someone."
"Safety for one," she explained, "I need to be able to stop you in case of cramp or some other more personal reason. We need to establish a safety word."
"Why not just ístopí or Ďhelpí?" He asked innocently.
"Because I might say them accidentally, you know, getting into the spirit of things. No, it needs to be something unconnected and specific like Ďsausagesí."
"Sausages?" He almost guffawed.
"Yes why not?" She said seriously. "It would be understandable even if all you heard was Ďm - phg -sí" she imitated a gagged response.
"Ok," Matt agreed, desperately trying to keep a straight face. Ďsausagesí it is."
"It really is serious." Fransesca said gravely.
"I know," Matt responded, "but youíve got to admit.."
"May be I should forget it." She said quietly.
"No, really," he stammered, "I do understand. I can see how it would be needed. What about the blindfold?"
"Iíve never tried it," she admitted. "Sounds good to me. I wonít know what youíre up to or where you will touch me. I like it."
Matt looked pleased.
"I suppose it was not necessary for my little games." She admitted. "It will be interesting to see how it feels." She allowed herself a moment to consider but discovered that with no frame of reference she had no idea what to expect. "See," she encouraged, "thatís one idea already. Iím sure there will be other things you will do that I never thought of, or could do." †The thought made her excited. She desperately wanted something new.
"Iíd like to see how you tie your breasts." He said suddenly.
It was Fransescaís turn to be surprised.
"What now?" She asked trying not to sound too keen. The idea had made her jump inside, and she was not sure why. She had supposed that bondage was off the menu for today.
"No time like the present." He encouraged. "After all we were going to do something, so give me the demonstration. Run along and come back." He chivied.
"Down here?" She queried.
"Why not? You did say I could tie you anywhere. I might want you downstairs some times."
Fransesca could not believe how nervous she now felt, as she scurried off to do his bidding. She had wanted him to take control, and now he had. He had also been listening she noted. She was getting very excited, uncontrollably so it seemed. What would she be like when he was able to tie her properly? She wondered. She found the right rope and hurried back downstairs.
"You can lose the dressing gown again," he ordered.
Fransesca felt herself blush. This was ridiculous! How long had they been married? How many times had he seen her naked? How could she be embarrassed? But she was. She unwound the rope and made to start the process, but he stopped her.
"I want you to explain what you are doing," he told her, "And why," he added.
Francesca flushed again. "Iíve never done it in front of anyone before," she stammered, "and I just do it. Canít you just watch?"
"I need to know what you are trying to do," he insisted. "Come on, itís your idea after all." He paused, "You were happy to demonstrate on me." He reminded her. "Now teach me."
"All right," she sighed nervously. It was suddenly very personal, private even. She was being forced to bare her insides as well as her flesh. For a moment she regretted what she had started. She stood toying with the rope for what seemed to her like an eternity.
"Iím waiting," he was sounding more and more confident, as hers seemed to slip away.
"First I find the middle and start with that in front of me." She demonstrated as she spoke and her hands moved automatically. "Once behind then over my breasts, around and under again, and again over."† She was now absorbed in what she was doing, speaking out loud a routine that was long practiced. "Finally tying a knot over all the strands in front, pulling them together and squeezing my breasts."
She had made a sort of rope bra, with her breasts neatly squeezed and her nipples standing out proudly.
"Very neat," he complimented her. "So what would happen if I put rope so that it ran over your nipples and squashed your tits back a bit?"
"I do not know? I..." she faltered. "I have always done it this way," she said weakly.
"So letís try," he encouraged, "Go and get some more rope."
Fransesca automatically reached for her dressing gown.
"You donít need that," he boomed, "we are alone after all. Just go and fetch all your ropes so I can experiment if I want to. Go on, hurry up."
It felt very strange rushing around with her tits all bunched up. She felt top-heavy and very self conscious. She picked up the vanity case and brought it down.
"So thatís where you hid them."
"They were not hidden as such, " she murmured defensively, "just kept out of the way."
"You knew that I would never find them though," he said accusingly, "I wonder what else you have that I am not aware of."
Her mind automatically jumped to her nipple clamps sitting innocently in her jewelry box. She hoped her face did not betray her continued deceptions. There was also a little bullet sized vibrator, that she had bought mail order, hidden in her knicker drawer. It could be placed against a nipple or deep inside her vagina, with startling effect.
"There may be," she admitted quietly, "here you are." She encouraged changing the subject.
She handed the box over meekly to him. He considered the contents.
"Hmm, more here than I expected." He lifted out the ropes with his broad hands and took another peek. The butterfly was there, but so was a normal phallus shaped vibrator.
"I did say I had more than one vibrator," she almost whined, her voice cracking with emotion. "After all, I can hardly move the thing about myself if my hands are supposed to be tied," she explained weakly. "I..." Her voice trailed off.
"Letís just concentrate on the ropes for now shall we? Now where was I?" He took a length of rope and unwound it. "I see you look after your little toys." He complimented. "Now come here and let me try this."
He doubled the rope, pulling it taught and pressed against her breasts squashing them. Her automatic reaction was to raise her hands and it took all her will power not to interfere.
"Turn around," he ordered, engrossed in his task, and ignoring her discomfort.
He kept the rope doubled up, reached over her and started to tie it off, but seemed dissatisfied.
"Need to get a bit more tension," he pondered out loud. "I know."
To her surprise she felt him pull the rope across her back then under and over the top of each arm. Her shoulders were pulled back and her arms now held so that she could no longer clasp her hands together at the front. He tied it with a grunt of satisfaction. It felt strange and not particularly comfortable. She wanted to try and pull it off, yet, she also wanted him to continue.
"I had better tie your hands," he said reading her mind, "behind you said?"
She obeyed, but her shoulders were already pulled so her hands seemed lower than she expected. She felt him wrap several turns around like she had shown earlier and suddenly she was held. She pulled and found it was secure. She started to wriggle but he found another rope and pulled it around her groin pinning her hands to her back. Even now she was helplessly bound and in his control, yet her legs were still free. She had no desire to run though; she desperately wanted Matt to continue.
"Now what's this crupper rope you talked about?" He asked.
"Running a rope between my legs so it pulls inside my vagina," she reminded him her voice quivering. She could neither help or hinder him now.
"What do I attach it to?"† He asked dimly.
"The rope around my waist, or my hands, or even a loop around the back of my neck. Just make sure the pressure is to the back, not over my windpipe." she added nervously.
"Makes sense," he said, and found another rope. It was a long piece so he draped it over her head like a lanyard then pulled it over her front.
"We will need to knot it together at the front, perhaps here," he pondered out loud, "yes that will work."
Fransesca found herself being twirled like a shop dummy. The rope was passed between her legs and she winced as he pulled it up.
"Now," he said "If I thread it back through the collar that will ensure no pressure on the neck, then,"
Fransesca started pulling her hands as the ropes tightened splitting her it seemed in two. He pulled it down to her hands and tied it but there was still some rope left.
"I know," he exclaimed unhelpfully. "Can you get down on the floor?"
"Not easily," she answered† truthfully, "Iím all off balance, and canít steady myself with my hands tied."
"Iíll help you," he said supporting her. Soon she found herself on her stomach. He was already lashing her ankles together, then her knees. She was rolled unceremoniously over from side to side to allow a rope at her thighs, to which he then attached the rest of the crupper rope. He had obviously been listening, she could not open or even move her legs.
"Now get out of that," he challenged. "Wait a minute, I seem to remember seeing something."
Suddenly her legs were brought up and lashed to her hands. She was back in the hog-tie, but this time not only was she bound totally secure, but there was a crupper pressing hard inside her.
She struggled, but from the start she knew it was no use. There was nothing to move. Her arms were pinned taking out any strength there and her legs were tight together and doubled back. There was no slip knot to loosen. She could hardly move at all. She flexed her muscles but the ropes held her firm. She stopped fighting and tried to relax to ease the tension, but she was bound tight. The rope over her tits was pressing her, while rolling on the floor was only making it worse. There was nothing she could do to loosen the pressure inside her either. She lay still, on her side panting. Her mouth was dry. She could not decide if it was excitement or fear. She was completely helpless.
"Giving up already?" He jeered. "Itís only eight oíclock. Three hours was it?"
"I canít stay like this for three hours!" She exclaimed.
"You can if I let you," he assured her. "Iíve already had one good orgasm so Iím in no rush. You can always call a halt if you canít stand it any longer," he jeered.
Fransesca steeled herself mentally. She could not give up now. She would have to endure it, but it was harder than she had imagined. She was much more uncomfortable than last week even thought the position was almost the same. There was no slack between her hands and feet. Matt had been quite forceful. She had less hope of escape so her wriggles were not directed anywhere. She was on a hard floor not a soft bed. The crupper was pressing hard and her tits were getting pressed from all sides. Every time she rolled the ropes made their presence felt. She closed her eyes, blotting out Matt who was still towering over her, gloating. She was held, and she would not be escaping. Her boasting about time was looking impossible to achieve. She would have to give in, but how? Without stopping everything and denying her the final prize?
"Just let my feet back down," she pleaded. "It is just too much. I need to straighten, just that last rope." She was sweating profusely and her mouth felt drier than when she had gagged herself. Was this fear again? She had never considered there to be anything to be afraid of, but she was completely at his mercy. If he did not release her she had to stay or call a complete halt. All or nothing.
To her relief Matt relented. She rolled about flexing her legs and hips and tried to gain some extra purchase on the ropes.† She was not aware of Matt still watching her. Suddenly she felt him next to her his mouth closed onto hers. Her mind went fuzzy, this was not part of her scenario. His hands wandered over her and she longed to be able to reciprocate. The touch was strange to her, almost like he had never touched her before, exploring, caressing and prodding. Checking the ropes, she noted vaguely, not that there was any need. She was still firmly held.
"Just you wait and see what I have in store for you," he said gently, "my little bondage queen."
He rubbed over her tightly bound tits then pulled at her crupper. There was no chance of her reaching any sort of orgasm, not as she was, but that did not stop the juices flowing or the dull ache of expectation. He rolled her over and played with her quivering bottom. A quick smack then nothing.
"Now you can wait," he said firmly, "but not before I have stopped all this rolling about."
Fransesca struggled again. What had he in mind now? She was already helpless, and she was sure that he would not force her back into the hog tie. She could hardly avoid his next restriction, but she made a valiant effort to squirm out if his way. Even trying to porpoise away from him, but he grabbed her feet and pulled her back, rubbing her tortured tits against the carpet as he did so.
"You donít get away that easily!" He chided.
Fransesca groaned out loud. This was not going according to plan. Fantasy and reality were obviously two different things. Matt had a mind of his own, to which she must now comply, or suffer the consequences. In her fantasies she was still in control. As she was pulled unceremoniously across the floor Fransesca knew that in reality she could only endure what ever her captor decreed for her.
She felt him attach a rope to her ankle tie and then stretch it away from her. Then he fumbled behind her back and suddenly she was pulled rigid, stretched between the sideboard and the settee. She could just about roll from her back to her front, but no more. She could not get comfortable.† She could fight as much as she liked. She would wait for the next turn of events. She was captured, and there would be no escape. This time she would have to see what the kidnapper had in store for her. She was wondering how long this time when the lights went out.
It was her sleeping mask, used to keep the television light out when she wanted to sleep and Matt wanted to watch. When had he gone to get it? She had not noticed him leave or return. Her isolation was now complete, but she felt like her whole body was tingling, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did happen, but she was on tenterhooks, expecting a touch.
She lost all track of time. She savored the helplessness, this time with no underlying fear. Wherever he was Matt not only knew what was happening, he was orchestrating it. Everything was so unfamiliar. There was pressure on the tops of her arms. Her tits were both bunched and squashed making her nipples hyper sensitive. And as for the crupper! Why had she told him about the crupper! She had no movement. There was no way to get her off, or relieve the pressures on her tormented body. She found the only vaguely comfortable position was on her side trying to curl up but unable to do so. And still she waited.
Suddenly there was a buzz.† She could not identify where it came from. For a second she thought it was an insect, which made her freeze. She had an involuntary fear of small insects from watching too many horror movies. She was unable to stop anything landing on her or touching her now. She was going to call out but realized that the noise was one she knew. It was a vibrator -- which one she did not know. Something touched her left tit and she jumped, as much as her bonds would let her. She strained against the ropes holding her wrists, but she could not move them. The touches danced all over her making her buck and jerk, but there was nothing she could do. She could not anticipate him. She had never felt anything like this. Two buzzes. Two touches. She could not cope with this. She let out a noise, but no words could express her feelings.† She felt the crupper tighten as something was squeezed under it against her pussy. A vibrator. It sent waves over her whole body where the ropes crossed, but mostly she felt it between her legs.
"Oh, my God" she exclaimed.
She was forced to lie on her back, with her arms pinned behind her. The rope over her left tit was moved and he started sucking her nipple. The sensations were overwhelming. She did not know what to concentrate on, and all the time she was pulling at her hands trying to get herself free. Unbelievably she felt a finger probing at her between her legs. There was no way for him to reach her with her thighs were locked tight together. The sucking stopped and she was manhandled while her thigh tie was loosened, but not removed. The sucking returned, her other nipple was fingered, then the probing down below. Successful this time, his finger reached past the rope that cut her in two, and flicked away inside her. She felt a sudden wave of sensation as an orgasm washed over her, taking her by surprise. She tried to bend double but was held firm. The finger remained. He was not going to let her have just one. He was familiar with multiple orgasms and she knew he could send her to distraction without the added stimulus of bondage. How could she stop him?
"Stop, stop!" She cried as she lost count of the climaxes, "stop!" But he did not stop. Her mind raced to work out what was wrong. Why would he not stop?
Within seconds all attacks on her ceased and the blindfold was removed.
Heís right she thought dimly, it does sound silly, but thank goodness they had discussed it.
"It may take a while to free you," he said meekly. "I,"
"Donít worry, " she smiled at him, "I just could not take another orgasm. It worked though, the sausages I mean."
He smiled back. "Iíll never look at a sausage in the same way again. So how was it?"
"Unbelievable," she answered. "Nothing like I expected, and nothing like I used to do."
He looked concerned.
"Don't get me wrong," she said rubbing some circulation back into herself, "It was great. Better than great," she corrected, "but not what I expected. That blindfold completely changed things. How long was I like that?"
"Not long," he confessed, "I just could not wait, sorry."
"Don't be sorry," she assured him, "I lost all sense of time, you could have been five minutes you could have been hours."
"It was probably ten minutes," he confirmed, "and youíre right, seeing you like that brings out some very strange feelings in me. I donít know whether to ravish you or free you."
"I feel ravished," she informed him. "And loved," she added shedding the last few ropes and reaching out for him. "Give me a hug..."
"Now let me get cleaned up," she said looking around, "what a mess."
"Iíll put the kettle on," he told her.
"So have I passed?" He asked, now they were settled with their drinks, the ropes still littered around the floor.
Fransesca looked at him blankly over her steaming cup of coffee.
"The test, have I passed?"
She remembered the conversation that started the whole thing off, and the quip about a practical exam.
"Yes youíve passed," she assured him, "with flying colors, youíve passed."
He looked pleased.
"You donít know what youíve started," he told her, "Iíve got all these ideas."
Fransesca shivered. She was not sure if it was cold, excitement or just the heat of the mug in her hands.
"Later," she said quietly, "thereís plenty of time."
"Itís a pity you did not confide in me sooner," he chided, "I could really get into this."
"Looks like Iíve unleashed a tiger or something," she joked, "and I was worried about Paul"
The glint in his eyes faded for an instant.
"I still haven't dealt with him yet," he growled.
"Perhaps you should thank him, " she suggested. "But I think itís best if you say nothing at all. Heís done us a favor really, and I can deal with him if he tries anything now. We have no secrets, now. Do we?"
His response was unconvincing.
"You will have to wait and see," he said disarmingly, "besides I have a feeling youíre not telling me everything either. Hmm, this bondage could be quite interesting. How often do you want tying up?"
Fransesca could not help letting out a guffaw. It was like asking a chocoholic how much chocolate she would like. She could not answer.
"Put it this way, how often did you used to tie yourself up?" He persisted.
Fransesca still hesitated.
"It depended. Sometimes once a week, sometimes several." She shrugged helplessly. "What can I say? I will take it as often as you give it."
"Letís get this straight. Bondage will always end in sexual fulfillment, orgasms, right?"
"And you want this several times a week?"
"If I can, yes"
"So you want sex several times a week?"
"I suppose so, but it is a different sort of sex."
"And I thought it was only men who though of sex all the time! Why didnít you say something?"
"You seemed to lose interest after the first six month or so."
"I admit, I got a bit bored. We didnít do much except straight sex."
"Well hereís your chance for something different."
"One other thing, " Fransesca interrupted him, "I want you to start it."
"How do you mean?"
"Thereís something not right about having to ask to be tied up."
"It could be suggested that there is something not right about wanting to be tied up at all, but we wonít go there for now. You want me to dictate? I might be able to do that. You might regret it."
Fransesca sensed a sinister edge to his voice but she still smiled. "I doubt it," She whispered softly.
"I donít suppose there is some sort of manual or guide to this bondage business?"
"There are a couple of web sites with instruction guides but most of the stuff on the net is the dungeons, whips and chains you were worried about. Just remember I want rope not leather or metal or other restraining devices. You might get some ideas though if you want to look. Try Ďshibarií"
"Itís S H I B A R I, and itís Japanese rope bondage."
"I might just do that, you never know what else I might find."
Fransesca shuddered involuntarily. Her mind strayed back to the contents of her jewelry box. She had tried the nipple clamps and discarded them. She suspected that there would be other ideas that she might not like. She had virtually given Matt ĎCarte Blancheí to do as he wished. Maybe there were some things she would rather he did not learn. She had thought that she was the teacher. She could now end up learning lessons of her own. One thing she could almost guarantee: her life was going to become interesting. What had she started?