WhyNotNow?
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- Joined
- Aug 2, 2015
- Messages
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Long time lurker, figured I might start trying to contribute.
Here's a story I wrote today...
=================
“Karen, I….”
“Shut up. You… you know what? I’m not going to explain it to you again. And I’m tired of listening to your crap.”
I managed to get out half a sound before the duct tape was roughly shoved over my mouth. The second and third pieces secured it in place (as well as painfully stretched my stubble; she didn’t seem to mind).
The stocks at the end of the bed had been a bit of a gag gift. Karen and I enjoyed tickling each other, but it had always been flirty and fun, foreplay. This was different.
I had noticed she was agitated, but she didn’t want to talk about it. So I recommended we play around to ease whatever was troubling her mind. She had reluctantly agreed, as long as I went first. My bare feet were closed in the footboard stocks and my hands were handcuffed through an opening in the top of the stocks.
Whether my present situation was her plan all along, or occurred to her after the fact, I’m not sure. I guess it doesn’t matter.
What did matter was that I hadn’t kept my word. I promised that I would pay more attention, that our relationship wouldn’t simply be work, sex, and sleep. I promised that things would change, and then I forgot about it.
But now, as I stared at the stoic expression on her face and felt the bands pulling my toes back to the stocks, all of that went out of my mind. This was going to be bad.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you need to be kept in the dark, as I have been. Wondering what someone’s intentions are is a nasty place to be. Allow me to share.”
As Karen crawled behind me on the bed and lowered the blindfold over my eyes, she whispered to me. “I hope you understand what you’ve just lost.”
Her hands sensually rubbed my back. One even detoured around to rub over the crotch of my pants, but her lamentation was driven home after a few seconds when she drove the point of her chin between my neck and shoulder blades. It wasn’t so much a tickle as an electric shock. She knew I hated that.
I felt her weight shift off the bed.
“Consider this my breakup. I just can’t wait anymore. I’ll move out. But before I go, I wanted you to know how helpless and frustrated I’ve felt for the last six months. I obviously couldn’t get that through your skull with words, so maybe action will suffice.”
The graze of her fingertip across the ten pads of my restrained toes signaled the beginning of her breakup letter to me. Then again. And again. After more strokes than I could count, it mercifully stopped. I wasn’t laughing, but the sensation was driving me crazy.
Next, and worse, I felt what could only be the tendrils of a peacock feather tracing the very same route. Ever. So. Slowly. Again, I wasn’t laughing, but again, the sensation was maddening. I pulled on the handcuffs and clenched my fists, but the feathering went on for minutes. Of course I couldn’t see, but I could feel Karen’s satisfaction with my impending madness.
Without the slightest warning, I felt the pointed end of the feather streak down the middle of my left sole. Almost before I had time to register the sensation, it was blitzing back up the right. Now, I was laughing. Or at least trying to laugh while the duct tape forced the air to come out my nose.
Karen abandoned the long, predictable patterns for random spastics. I felt the heel of her hand rest on my sole and knew she was holding it like a quill pen. First would come the warmth of her hand, then without warning or routine would come the point of the quill. Writing invisible letters and words. Rapid hen pecks right near each other in one spot and then immediately on another, or on the other foot.
It doesn’t fill me with pride to admit that tears emerged before she was finished. The cloth of the blindfold would absorb them, I thought, and at least grant me my pride.
“Aww, the baby is crying.”
So much for pride.
“This is for all the nights I cried myself to sleep hoping against hope that you would commit to me, or do anything to prove that you cared. Welcome to my world.”
Maybe she had a point, but then and there all I could do was sob into my blindfold and gag while she exacted her revenge inch by inch over the surface of my ticklish soles. I couldn’t tell you when it stopped, only that the sensation and the horror I felt continued well after. So did my state of arousal, as paradoxical as that may sound.
If I could get the gag off, I would have told her anything and everything she wanted to hear, but I had no such luck. I could only mumble and hope she was finished.
“I’m not finished, but I am too… hot and bothered… to keep going. I see that you are too. We really could have had something special. Asshole.”
“I’m going to get in the shower and grant myself some release; you’re going to sit here and think about what’s walking out of your life. When I come back, we’ll finish this up and go our separate ways.”
Over the next 20 minutes, I couldn’t help but reflect on what Karen had said. It’s not every day you meet someone that you feel at home with, are attracted to, and who shares your deepest fantasies. How did I screw this up?
Between my mental and physical exhaustion, the artificial darkness of the blindfold, and the gentle sound of running water in the next room, I started to fade out. I was roused from my pseudo-nap by Karen’s voice.
“Well, I feel much better and ready to get out of here and on with my life. I’m really sorry this had to end this way, but I know I can find someone who appreciates what I have to offer.”
I was speechless. Not because of the gag, but because I agreed with her. And now it was over.
Almost.
“One last thing, that pretty much sums it all up” I heard, followed by a sound I couldn’t quite place.
I could feel the radiating warmth of Karen’s showered, naked skin as she approached, the strange sound getting louder in the process.
“What did I tell you about not putting my toothbrush head back on the spindle when you’re done with yours? I guess I have time for one more lesson.”
Here's a story I wrote today...
=================
“Karen, I….”
“Shut up. You… you know what? I’m not going to explain it to you again. And I’m tired of listening to your crap.”
I managed to get out half a sound before the duct tape was roughly shoved over my mouth. The second and third pieces secured it in place (as well as painfully stretched my stubble; she didn’t seem to mind).
The stocks at the end of the bed had been a bit of a gag gift. Karen and I enjoyed tickling each other, but it had always been flirty and fun, foreplay. This was different.
I had noticed she was agitated, but she didn’t want to talk about it. So I recommended we play around to ease whatever was troubling her mind. She had reluctantly agreed, as long as I went first. My bare feet were closed in the footboard stocks and my hands were handcuffed through an opening in the top of the stocks.
Whether my present situation was her plan all along, or occurred to her after the fact, I’m not sure. I guess it doesn’t matter.
What did matter was that I hadn’t kept my word. I promised that I would pay more attention, that our relationship wouldn’t simply be work, sex, and sleep. I promised that things would change, and then I forgot about it.
But now, as I stared at the stoic expression on her face and felt the bands pulling my toes back to the stocks, all of that went out of my mind. This was going to be bad.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you need to be kept in the dark, as I have been. Wondering what someone’s intentions are is a nasty place to be. Allow me to share.”
As Karen crawled behind me on the bed and lowered the blindfold over my eyes, she whispered to me. “I hope you understand what you’ve just lost.”
Her hands sensually rubbed my back. One even detoured around to rub over the crotch of my pants, but her lamentation was driven home after a few seconds when she drove the point of her chin between my neck and shoulder blades. It wasn’t so much a tickle as an electric shock. She knew I hated that.
I felt her weight shift off the bed.
“Consider this my breakup. I just can’t wait anymore. I’ll move out. But before I go, I wanted you to know how helpless and frustrated I’ve felt for the last six months. I obviously couldn’t get that through your skull with words, so maybe action will suffice.”
The graze of her fingertip across the ten pads of my restrained toes signaled the beginning of her breakup letter to me. Then again. And again. After more strokes than I could count, it mercifully stopped. I wasn’t laughing, but the sensation was driving me crazy.
Next, and worse, I felt what could only be the tendrils of a peacock feather tracing the very same route. Ever. So. Slowly. Again, I wasn’t laughing, but again, the sensation was maddening. I pulled on the handcuffs and clenched my fists, but the feathering went on for minutes. Of course I couldn’t see, but I could feel Karen’s satisfaction with my impending madness.
Without the slightest warning, I felt the pointed end of the feather streak down the middle of my left sole. Almost before I had time to register the sensation, it was blitzing back up the right. Now, I was laughing. Or at least trying to laugh while the duct tape forced the air to come out my nose.
Karen abandoned the long, predictable patterns for random spastics. I felt the heel of her hand rest on my sole and knew she was holding it like a quill pen. First would come the warmth of her hand, then without warning or routine would come the point of the quill. Writing invisible letters and words. Rapid hen pecks right near each other in one spot and then immediately on another, or on the other foot.
It doesn’t fill me with pride to admit that tears emerged before she was finished. The cloth of the blindfold would absorb them, I thought, and at least grant me my pride.
“Aww, the baby is crying.”
So much for pride.
“This is for all the nights I cried myself to sleep hoping against hope that you would commit to me, or do anything to prove that you cared. Welcome to my world.”
Maybe she had a point, but then and there all I could do was sob into my blindfold and gag while she exacted her revenge inch by inch over the surface of my ticklish soles. I couldn’t tell you when it stopped, only that the sensation and the horror I felt continued well after. So did my state of arousal, as paradoxical as that may sound.
If I could get the gag off, I would have told her anything and everything she wanted to hear, but I had no such luck. I could only mumble and hope she was finished.
“I’m not finished, but I am too… hot and bothered… to keep going. I see that you are too. We really could have had something special. Asshole.”
“I’m going to get in the shower and grant myself some release; you’re going to sit here and think about what’s walking out of your life. When I come back, we’ll finish this up and go our separate ways.”
Over the next 20 minutes, I couldn’t help but reflect on what Karen had said. It’s not every day you meet someone that you feel at home with, are attracted to, and who shares your deepest fantasies. How did I screw this up?
Between my mental and physical exhaustion, the artificial darkness of the blindfold, and the gentle sound of running water in the next room, I started to fade out. I was roused from my pseudo-nap by Karen’s voice.
“Well, I feel much better and ready to get out of here and on with my life. I’m really sorry this had to end this way, but I know I can find someone who appreciates what I have to offer.”
I was speechless. Not because of the gag, but because I agreed with her. And now it was over.
Almost.
“One last thing, that pretty much sums it all up” I heard, followed by a sound I couldn’t quite place.
I could feel the radiating warmth of Karen’s showered, naked skin as she approached, the strange sound getting louder in the process.
“What did I tell you about not putting my toothbrush head back on the spindle when you’re done with yours? I guess I have time for one more lesson.”
