This story contains: F/M - consensual/tricked bondage

Synopsis: After a breakup leaves me craving submission, I book a session with a professional dominatrix. Our unexpected chemistry blurs the line between professional and personal, and I keep feeling happier as she keeps talking, until she gags me. Which begins as a playful bondage session turns into something way more different.

It had been two months since my girlfriend and I broke up.

This wasn’t so bad actually, I was enjoying my single life, but there was one thing I did missed a lot.

You see, I’ve always had this bondage fantasy. I’ve been into it for as long as I could remember, and my ex was used to help me indulge it. We played a lot, having her tying me up and gagging me, and sometimes, having her in bondage.

But, since we broke up, I hadn’t been able to do it again. I’ve tried some self bondage, but it’s not so fulfilling, since I know I will escape eventually. I want to feel at the mercy of someone else, my freedom depending on her will.

That’s why I decided to book an appointment with a professional. I didn’t want to get into any serious relationship so soon, I just needed someone to satisfy this particular craving of mine.

So, after surfing through several websites, I finally found Miss Liza. Her profile was straightforward, no bullshit, no fancy roleplay. Just pure bondage, and that’s what I needed. I liked that she was a professional, it made me feel safe and less embarrassed about my fetish.

I sent her an email, explaining my situation and my desires, making it clear that I didn’t want any roleplay, just a good old fashioned bondage session.

To my surprise, she replied almost immediately, asking for my address and preferred time.

Her promptness was both exciting and nerve-wracking. The thought of having a stranger come to my house to tie me up was exhilarating.

Miss Liza arrived right on time, dressed exactly as I had requested: a tight black catsuit that hugged her curves like a second skin, and a sleek red ski mask that covered everything but her piercing blue eyes.

The sight of her took my breath away. I had never seen someone so beautifully intimidating.

"Hello, darling," she purred as she entered the living room where I was waiting, nervously fidgeting.

"Hi," I managed to reply, my voice quivering slightly.

"Ready to have some fun?" she asked, her smize revealing the hint of a challenge.

"I think so," I responded, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

I led her to the chair I had set up, a sturdy wooden one with no cushions for comfort.

“I want to be bound to this chair," I said, pointing to the contraption. "And gagged with your worn panties, if you don’t mind."

Her eyes lit up with a mix of amusement and intrigue. She nodded, a knowing smirk playing on her lips through the mask.

"I see, you’re quite specific with your desires."

Miss Liza began to tie me up, her movements precise and efficient as she secured each rope around my wrists and ankles, ensuring they were tight but not painfully so. She knew exactly what she was doing, which only served to increase my arousal.

"So," she began, as she worked, "What do you do for a living?"

I felt a strange sense of relief at the mundane question, and I found myself opening up to her.

"I'm an engineer," I said. "I work on designing and testing new materials for construction projects."

Miss Liza paused for a moment, a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“No way!! That's quite fascinating," she said, continuing her work. "I studied engineering as well, but ended up choosing a different career path. What made you choose that field?"

Her question threw me off guard. I had never expected to find common ground with a dominatrix, let alone bond over our shared academic backgrounds.

"Well," I began, "I've always been good with numbers and problem solving. Plus, I enjoy seeing my designs come to life in the real world."

Miss Liza nodded thoughtfully, tying a knot around my knees.

“That's actually pretty similar to what I liked about it," she said. "But I found the corporate world too... restrictive. I find this line of work more… liberating, somehow."

Her words resonated with me. I had felt the same way about my job at times—the constraints and deadlines stifling my creativity. As she continued to tie me up, I felt the tension in the room shift from purely sexual to a more intimate and personal connection. Her expert hands made me feel safe and secure, and the conversation flowed easily between us.

As she kept working on binding my thighs to the chair, she kept the comfortable conversation.

"So," she asked, "What do you enjoy doing in your daily life, aside from this?" She giggled.

I blushed a bit, feeling a bit self-conscious about revealing my more vanilla interests to someone who clearly had such a wild streak.

“I enjoy playing soccer," I said. "I've been playing since I was a kid, and it's always been a way for me to unwind and stay active."

Miss Liza's eyes lit up with excitement, and she stopped for a moment, a rope hanging loosely from her hand.

"Really?" she exclaimed. "I play soccer too! It's such a great sport, isn't it? Nothing quite like the feeling of scoring a goal to let off some steam."

Her cheerful revelation caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but chuckle.

“You play soccer?" I asked incredulously. "What position?"

"Striker," she replied with a wink. "I love being in control and scoring those goals. I like to think it’s a bit like what I do here, just with less rope involved."

Her cheerful revelation about playing soccer immediately brought us closer, and the conversation flowed more naturally than I could have ever imagined. As she secured my legs together, she began sharing tales of her soccer team's victories and the thrill of the game. I found myself eagerly asking questions about her experience and the strategies she used on the field.

As the time passed, I found myself thoroughly bound to the chair. She had tied my ankles together and to my bound wrists under the chair. My knees were tied and my thighs were bound to the seat. She had also tied my elbows together and my chest to the chair’s back, and so my waist.

I wriggled a bit and joyfully realized I couldn’t move.

Miss Liza stepped back to admire her handiwork, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"How does that feel?" she asked, her voice soothing and gentle despite the firm grip she had on my freedom.

"It's perfect," I murmured, feeling the ropes bite into my flesh just enough to remind me of my predicament. "Exactly what I needed."

“It’s been great talking to you, but I feel I should gag you now. If I keep chit-chatting, we’ll never finish, hihi” she giggled.

Miss Liza reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of scissors. Without a word, she took a step closer and raised the scissors to the hem of her panties. She was still wearing them under her catsuit, and the anticipation of her cutting them off was almost too much for me to bear.

With a swift snip, she cut the fabric, and my eyes widened as the material fell away from her body. She bent over, and I felt a surge of desire that was almost overwhelming.

“Open wide!” she sang playfully.

I wanted her to gag me. I loved being gagged, but I’d have loved to ask her out before. I felt our connection flowed beyond the pure joy of bondage. However, I felt too embarrassed so I just obliged and parted my lips.

Miss Liza stepped closer and, with the same precision she had used to tie me up, she stuffed her panties inside my mouth. The fabric felt warm and intimate against my tongue, and the faint scent of her arousal was intoxicating. She pulled out a roll of tape from her bag and without any warning, she began to wrap it around my head, securing the panties in place. Each pass of the tape over my mouth was a silent declaration of her dominance, and I could feel my cock straining against the ropes that held it in check.

Once the gag was in place, she leaned in close, her breath warm on my cheek.

“How's that?" she murmured, her voice a seductive purr.

“Mphhhh” I could only moan, my eyes wide with excitement and a hint of trepidation.

She stepped back again, her eyes raking over my bound form with a look that was both critical and hungry.

“Wow don’t you look lovely!!” she exclaimed as she patted my cheek.

“Mphhhh” I moaned.

Miss Liza walked around me, examining her work with the scrutiny of an artist admiring their masterpiece. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and I felt a strange sense of pride at having pleased her.

"Now, for the grand finale," she announced, reaching into her bag.

Miss Liza pulled out an instant camera, something that looked like it was straight out of the '90s, and held it up with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"Would you like some memories of our little session?" she asked, her voice teasing.

My heart raced at the thought. I nodded enthusiastically, unable to speak due to the panties gagging me. I had never had pictures taken during a bondage session before, and the idea of capturing this moment with Miss Liza was thrilling.

Miss Liza grinned and positioned the camera, taking a step back to capture the full extent of my predicament. She snapped a few pictures, each flash momentarily blinding me and leaving a white spot in my vision. She moved around me, capturing every angle and ensuring that she got the best shots possible.

Then, she had an idea. She held the camera out in front of her and leaned in close, pressing the button to take a selfie of the two of us. Her face was framed by the ski mask, and her eyes gleamed with excitement and mischief. She showed me the photo, and I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the sight of her beautiful face next to my bound body.

"I think we make a pretty good team," she said, setting the camera aside.

“Mphhhh mph” I nodded in agreement, the gag muffling my response.

Miss Liza approached me again, her eyes lingering on my erect cock. She reached out and gave it a gentle squeeze, eliciting a muffled groan from me. She knew exactly how to handle me, and it was clear that she was enjoying herself as much as I was.

Then, she took a look at her watch.

“Oops, it’s getting late! I better rob you now”.

“MPHHHHHH!!??” I squealed in shock through the gag.

She caught me off guard, since I hadn’t asked for any roleplay, but soon I would learn this wasn’t a roleplay.

Miss Liza reached into her bag and pulled out a scarf, which she secured over my eyes before I had a chance to protest. The darkness heightened my other senses, making the feel of the ropes and her touch even more intense.

"Don't worry, darling," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "I'm just going to take a few things to remember you by. You won't miss them, I promise."

Her hands roamed over my body, exploring the ropes she had so artfully applied. She was searching for something, and I realized with a jolt that she was looking for my wallet.

My heart pounded in my chest as she found it in my back pocket and pulled it out. I heard the jingle of coins and the rustle of paper as she inspected its contents.

“Ah, just what I needed," she murmured, and I felt her remove something.

I didn't dare to move, the situation was definitely not what I had signed up for. But the thrill of the unexpected was too intense to ignore. Was she really going to rob me? Or was this just part of the experience?

Miss Liza's fingers lingered on my thigh, tracing the rope that encircled it.

"You know, you're quite the catch," she whispered, her voice a velvety caress that sent shivers down my spine.

I squirmed in the chair, my body responding to her touch despite the fear that had started to creep in.

"Mphh," I murmured, the gag preventing me from speaking coherently.

Her hand left my leg, and I heard the faint sound of her heels going around the house, and the zip of her bag opening and closing from time to time.

I felt her approaching me again, and she took the scarf from over my eyes and applied it over my gag and my nose, leaving me OTN gagged.

“Now we’re all set, but let’s make sure you won’t turn me in when you get yourself free… if you get yourself free” she chuckled.

“MPHHHHH!!”

Then, she took my phone from the table and sat on my lap, trying to have it unlocked.

“Haha, it’s funny!! Your face ID doesn’t recognize your gagged face” she teased with amusement. “Okay, I’ll count from one to ten and you’ll tell me your code”.

“MPHHHHHH!!!” I shook my head defiantly.

“Oh don’t play it tough now, sweetie. I know how soft you are”.

Her hand slid down my chest to my cock. She gave it a squeeze, and the sudden sensation sent a jolt through my body. It was firm and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

"I need your cooperation, darling," she purred, her grip on my cock tightening slightly. "Now, tell me your code."

I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead as she squeezed harder, her eyes boring into mine with an intensity that was both terrifying and incredibly arousing. The pressure grew, and the need to breathe grew stronger, but so did my need to keep my possessions safe.

But as her grip tightened, my braveness became softer, so I finally found myself giving away the code to my phone, nodding at her counting.

“That’s better” she teased.

Miss Liza took my phone and immediately started to take snaps of us. She leaned in close, pressing her body against mine, making sure to capture every detail of my bound form and the gag in my mouth. She took a few more from various angles, and with each flash, I could feel the panic rising in my chest.

"Now, darling," she said, her voice a seductive purr, "If you ever decide to go to the police about this, remember these little souvenirs. They'd make a lovely addition to the internet, don't you think?"

Miss Liza held up the phone she intended to take with her, showing me the incriminating photos. My heart raced, and I nodded frantically, not trusting myself to try to speak. The reality of the situation had set in—she wasn’t just playing a game.

"Good boy," she cooed, placing the camera back in her bag. "Now, it’s been great meeting you, for real. You’re by far the best victim I have ever robbed, but a girl needs to eat, right?” she winked at me.

Miss Liza stood up and began to collect her things. She walked over to the chair and gave my cheek another pat.

"Remember, darling," she said sweetly, "Stay put and enjoy the feeling of helplessness."

With that, she gave my cock one final, gentle squeeze, and I felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through me, despite the fear and confusion that now filled my mind. It was a strange mix of emotions—being robbed while simultaneously getting exactly what I had paid for. She turned to leave, her hips swaying in that tight catsuit as she picked up her bag.

“Oh, by the way, you can keep my panties. Consider it a gift, a reminder of our little session, along with these” she added as she put the pictures from the instant camera on the floor, all around my bound form. “Sleep tight, beauty”.

I watched as Miss Liza sashayed out of the room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor. The sound grew faint, and I heard the front door shut with a gentle click.

Alone and bound, the reality of the situation washed over me. I had just been robbed by the woman I had paid to fulfill my bondage fantasy. By the woman I had been about to ask for a date. I felt a mix of anger and excitement, but mostly confusion.

My thoughts were racing as I struggled against the ropes at the unyielding embrace of the chair. Despite the fear and betrayal, the feeling of helplessness was intoxicating.

I tugged at the ropes, the struggle sending waves of pleasure through my body. The tightness of the bonds was a stark reminder of Miss Liza’s power over me.

But as the minutes ticked by and my initial shock began to wear off, the thrill started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of unease. I had never been in a situation like this before, and I had no idea how to get myself out of it.

The only sounds in the room were my own muffled grunts and the occasional creak of the chair as I tested the limits of my restraints.

The thought of being found like this was mortifying, and I redoubled my efforts to free myself. I wiggled and squirmed, trying to loosen the knots with every ounce of strength I had.

But Miss Liza had been thorough. The ropes held firm, and the more I struggled, the tighter they seemed to get.

My arms grew sore and my breathing grew labored. The gag filled my mouth, and I could feel the tape sticking to the corners of my lips as I breathed heavily through my nose.

The room grew warm, and the scent of my own fear mixed with the faint smell of Miss Liza’s perfume was overwhelming.

The exhaustion of fighting the bonds began to take its toll, and my eyelids grew heavy. Despite the situation, my body had succumbed to the comfort of the chair and the gentle tug of sleep.

As I drifted off, the last thing I remember was the sound of her heels echoing through the hallway, leaving me in a world of darkness and ropes.