Originally published in Bound To Please Vol. 5, No. 8
Story Codes: M/f, bondage, reluctant, self, cuffs, chains, massage, climax, X
I deserve to see him, Lindsey thought as she got out of the car and walked up the path to his cabin. She hadn't seen Will since their divorce; and now she just happened to be here on business. What could be more natural than seeing her ex-husband? No doubt she could wangle several night's lodging out of him. There wasn't a doubt in her mind what that would cost. She had mixed feelings about it. He'd always wanted to tie her up. It wasn't true that she'd hated it as much as she'd claimed, but she had a compulsion about being in control. She remembered that last time:
The house is clean. Flowers on the table. She knows tonight is it.
He's on the bed, wearing a pair of black karate pants. Why, even breaking up, can he still make her heart flutter?A box on the foot of the bed, with a single red rose—she knows it's something she won't like. "For me?"
"After supper." He leads her to the dining room, and pours her a glass of wine. The next thing she knows, he's served her an exquisite meal and she's had several glasses of wine. Watching the hairs on his chest gleam in the candlelight, she's feeling a little flirtatious."And now my present," she says.
No mistaking the gleam in his eye.She's a little tipsy, and leans on him for support until he lets her down on the bed.
"Is it something to wear?"He's smiling, and she's feeling a bit like the canary the cat's about to eat.
He doesn't answer.
Looking at herself in the full-length mirror, she sees a blonde woman in her mid thirties. Her skirt is beige, and her legs, visible below it, are slender, ankles nicely turned. Narrow nose, slightly upturned. Wide blue eyes.She sighs in exasperation. "You want me to wear it?"
"That's the idea."She shrugs out of her blouse and bra, then slips out of her skirt and panties, holding the headboard for balance.
She looks good nude. If she couldn't see her small firm breasts, her trim waist, and the sensuous flare of her hips in the mirror, she'd still know how good she looks by the gleam in his eye."You have your cake," she says softly.
"What?""You have to have frosting too?" Her voice is an accusation, but there's not putting him off.
"Oh, all right!"The underwear—she knew all the time it would be underwear—is predictably scanty: white net with a pattern of lace roses on the panties, black garter stockings, and a silk blouse so sheer she could read a newspaper through it.
She picks up the stockings and moans. "You know I hate these. They give me a headache, trying to put them on straight."He crosses to the bed, arranges the thin straps, and holds them for her. Lindsey pouts.
"If they're twisted, I'm not going to wear them."Miraculously, they go on straight. Standing to pull them up, she notices the effect in the mirror. The black nylon clings, accentuating the already perfect muscle definition in her legs. The straps frame her blonde bush; and she allows herself passing wonder that she bothers to peroxide there too.
The panties accentuate more than cover. "Beautiful," he whispers.In a normal frame of mind, she wouldn't find this beautiful, but she's had the wine, so she only giggles at the indignity.
The blouse is several sizes too small. The silk lifts and separates her breasts. Looking in the mirror, she can see her nipples clearly. "This is obscene," she says.He grins. "I'd call it erotic."
"Well," she says grudgingly, turning this way and that to examine herself in the mirror, "it wouldn't be so bad, if this were all."He reaches into the bottom of the box and comes out with a tangle of silk bias tape: two inches wide and already cut into six-foot strips.
Lovely, Lindsey." His voice is tender. He brings a length of silk to her left wrist and ties a complicated knot."You know how I hate this," she says, even as his fingers on her thigh make her breathless. Resigned, she holds out her right wrist. He ties on the ribbon.
Now he's reaching for her ankle."That's enough. Just my wrists tonight."
He secures another of the ribbons on her left ankle."No!" She ties to kick him, but he grabs her foot and before she can protest further, she's trailing silk from all four limbs.
And now she's throwing her body against him, rubbing her breasts on his chest and kissing him. "Don't tie me up. I'll pretend. See." She rolls away, hands behind her. "I'm helpless. Wicked Willie has already gotten me. Untie me. Please?"His delighted grin flutters in her heart as he falls on her, hands stroking. She untangles her wrists from the ribbons and tries to push his hands away.
"You don't pretend very well.""I'm sorry." Lindsey tries to get her hands behind her again, but he's already looped one of the ribbons through the headboard; and while she tugs her bound wrist, he ties it off. Her "no" comes out a moan, and as if by magic, her other wrist is secured to the headboard.
She pulls with her arms, feeling naked and vulnerable in her helplessness.He's off the bed now, looking down at her where she lays with her arms spread across the pillows. But what's that in his hands? Even as all her attention focuses on trying to free her wrists, she realizes he has hold of a ribbon attached to her ankle.
Somehow, he's gotten the ribbon to the leg of the bed, and as he pulls, her foot moves to the side. "Please don't spread me out.""Why not?" He sounds so cheerful, and while she's tugging on her bound ankle, he's spreading her other foot to the side of the bed.
"No!" Her protest is sharp, but she's too late. She's tied across the bed. She rolls back and forth, pulling this way and that. No give. The ribbons are pretty, but they're strong as chains.There's no escape now. His hands play down her arms; and his fingers linger on her breasts, teasing the nipples to aching nubs.
"Oh," she moans.One of his hands traces down the line of little buttons. His finger swirls around her belly button before it descends to test her dampness under the sheer panties.
She steels her body against the silken bonds, but even that doesn't stop the roaring heat that invades her."Please!" The word sounds like she's crying.
He stands, leaving her trapped on the bed.Her whole body strains toward him against the binding ribbons. Her hands clasp and unclasp in their efforts to escape. Maybe this time he'll let her go?
But no. His eyes hold no escape.Twisting her body, she jerks in desperation at the ribbons, thrashing and kicking. No use. She might as well resign herself. It was a wonderful meal. She is relaxed from the wine. If only he didn't have to torment her.
He's so unpredictable. Here she is, spread across the bed the way he likes her, her nipples making little mountains in the sheer blouse, and what does he do? He's walking away!"You're not going to leave me like this?" She can hear the edge of the fear in her voice. "Willie!"
Her body begins to tremble as he steps out into the hall. He wouldn't... would he?No. He's not going to leave her. He's coming back with something held behind him. A whip? There's always the possibility of the whip in his little games. Just because he's never hurt her doesn't mean he won't.
"What are you going to do?""Lovely pathos," he says. One hand comes from behind his back and strokes her nipple, which, incredibly, feels like it's getting harder. "Arch your back." His voice is tender, coaxing. Without thinking, she arches and gives him her most innocent stare.
He moves so fast; she has no time to respond. A bright flash blinds her, and when she can see again, he's taking the picture out of the camera.She jerks in frustration at her bonds, but they hold her across the bed. Her cry comes out a sob: "Please!"
There's no respite for her tonight. The camera flashes again. "Keep your back arched.""Oh, please. Willie?" Even as she begs him to let her go, she's arching her back. Why is she cooperating with him? Why does she twist this way and that? Wriggle her hips? All at his command.
What did he get that night? Twenty some Polaroids. She was humiliated when he cut slits in the blouse so that bits of her showed through, and her nipples, painfully hard, betrayed her.She knocked on his cabin door. Okay, she admitted, she hated what he did to her, but her orgasm had been onto the Richter Scale. She hadn't felt anything like it since.
And then the door opened, and he was standing there. Black karate pants. Barefoot and bare chested. Her heart fluttered. She steeled herself inside.
"Hi, Willie," she said, flashing him her brightest smile. They spent the afternoon walking by the creek the way they used to, she in a bikini top and cutoffs. In the evening, he took her out to dinner.She had forgotten how funny he was. He'd laughed his way into her heart the first time. She debated drinking the wine, but decided she'd better.
He seemed taken with her white silk dress. Between the main course and dessert, she excused herself to the ladies' room. Gracious! In this light, she could see her little lacy white bra, the tiny panties, and the black garter hose through the thin fabric. The lights were so dim at the cabin. She'd wanted to be provocative, but not this provocative.As she was leaving the ladies' room, two women came in, and she overheard one comment: "Bet she has a hot one tonight."
All right, she admitted. She was seducing her ex-husband. Why? she wondered.She sipped her wine until it was gone, but didn't feel drunk. Then, outside the restaurant, she slipped on the stairs. He caught her, and in a breathless instant, she was in his arms.
"Fresh," she said.They drove in silence, Lindsey watching the forest flicker by in the headlights.
"Flight back tomorrow?" he asked."Actually, I've got three days. Would it be too much trouble to put me up?"
She sat on the sofa while he built the fire, then was disappointed that, after he got the blaze roaring, he dropped into an armchair instead of joining her on the sofa.
"Thank you for a lovely evening.""You're welcome."
His quiet calm was beginning to bug her. "If I'd dressed like this when we were married, you'd have been all over me," she said."More's the pity you didn't," he said.
Was he playing "moral" with her? What was wrong with a little hanky panky with her ex-husband? She stood, exasperated, unbuttoned the silk dress, and let it slide down her body. "What does this make you want to do?"His smile was brighter than the fire. "Tie you up," he said.
"Oh." She sat back down, acting hurt, but secretly pleased. "Well, if you're not going to do anything, I'm going to bed."To her utter disappointment, he watched her walk unsteadily across the living room to the guest bedroom.
She huffed into the room and fell, landing on the bed and bouncing to the floor. She wasn't hurt, but what was that chain hanging down the bed leg?There was a leather cuff attached to it. There were three more chains, one for each remaining bed leg. It made a sort of crazy sense: four chains, four leather cuffs. She pulled them onto the bed.
Her next thought was of "Wicked Willie'" standing over her helpless body with a gleam in his eye. It hadn't really been that bad, had it? He'd never hurt her; but those last year’s she'd been having her affair with Rafe. There was always the fear Will had found out. After they split, she'd discovered he'd known all along.It cost her money to get rid of Rafe. Will, who'd been her husband for fifteen years, took only what he'd had when they were married.
Lindsey moved as if in a trance. She knew what she was doing, but it was as if someone were controlling her body as she spread her legs and buckled the cuffs around her slender ankles.
Stretching her legs, she reached above her head. The wrist cuffs were easy. There was enough slack that her hands could reach each other. She could let herself lose any time she wanted. She pulled herself down with her legs until her hands couldn't touch anymore.What would it be like if she were really chained? Could she break free? She flexed her arms, exerting slow pressure until she was pulling with all her strength. Strain though she might, she couldn't pull anything loose. She jerked back and forth, and felt…
Help! The wrist chains were pulling back!She fought, muscles tight, legs thrashing. The cuffs embraced her limbs like a powerful lover. She could hear an electric motor somewhere. When it cut off and the chains stopped puling, she was spread.
Her thoughts ran a mile a minute. She couldn't get out of the cuffs. She could see her nipples poking against the thin material of her bra. The garter hose clung to her body like an invitation, and no matter how she pulled and jerked, the chains held firm.She wasn't going to get free by herself. That left two choices. She could call Will, or he could find her in the morning. Either way, he would humiliate her. The difference was either lying here helpless all night, which was intolerable, or putting up with his attentions, which weren't seeming that bad by comparison.
He appeared in the doorway; his surprise obvious. "I didn't think you were into this." The grin on his face was more appealing than she remembered.
Lindsey rattled her chains. "Help?""You expect help?"
"No," she said ruefully, jerking on the chains. "Just let me go.""Not a chance. You knew that the minute you strapped yourself down."
Lindsey's denial was on her lips, but something stopped the words.He sat on the foot of the bed and took her foot in his hands.
She gasped. She'd forgotten how divine his foot rubs were. The firm pressure of his thumbs and fingers spread pleasure up her leg in waves, and she could feel herself getting wet."Oh, that feels good."
His hands worked up her calf.The sigh that escaped her dripped desire; and she was immediately embarrassed to have given herself away.
"Don't fight it." His voice was soothing. "You're so beautiful when you're helpless. My eyes can't get enough of you."His massage had reached her knee. The waves of pleasure ran up and down her body. A tortured "Aaaaah!" escaped her throat.
For her thighs, he switched to a chopping motion with the edges of his hands. They came up the top of her thigh, working toward the inside and then the outside, shaking the muscle, relaxing her as they moved closer and closer to her prominent panty covered mound.She could feel the pressure building. If he'd only stray just a bit onto her panties, she'd climax; but instead, he moved to the other side of the bed and started with her other foot.
"You fink," she said without conviction."What's the matter?"
"You know.""And how would I know?"
That stopped her a minute. Of course, he wouldn't know what she was feeling unless she told him.By the time his hands reached her knees, sparks danced in front of her eyes, and her breath came in deep gasps. The edges of his hands began to tap their way up her thigh.
"You do not have permission to climax," he said."What do you mean by that?" The words came from between clenched teeth.
"If you climax, you will be punished."As he spoke, his hands chopped up the inside of her thigh until his fingers were just brushing her panties.
"You climaxed," he said, when she finally came down, limp like liquid, across the bed.
"I did not.""You did."
She blushed, caught in her lie. Her nipples pressed with maddening sensation against her bra."No whips," she said.
"Who said anything about whips?""You said I'd be punished."
"And you will be. You'll spend the next three days tied up in some way.""You wouldn't dare," she spat between clenched teeth. Even in her resistance, she found herself hoping he would. How divine it would be to be tied and given pleasure like that for three days.
"Oh, but I will."Lindsey surged against her chains. There wasn't thing she could do to stop him. She realized she didn't want to stop him. Already she was scheming how she might transfer her assets out here. Maybe he'd even marry her again.