This one’s from about 30 years ago. Jesus, I’m old.
There’s nothing like being young and single and kinky and working on your graduate degree. It’s really an ideal environment for playing around and casual exploration. Lots of smart and creative people your age, mostly single, all experiencing long days, late nights, exhaustion, stress, sexual tension, and best of all…forming into study groups.
I had done well enough in the years before pursuing my MBA that I could afford to rent a small farmhouse off campus. It was nice there; away from the hustle and bustle of the university and the small town that adjoined it, the house sat on several acres along a treeline adjoining a horse farm. You could grab emergency supplies at the bait shop down the street if needed, and it was right at the outer reaches of the best campus pizza delivery service. Honestly it was a great find, and one of the coolest places I’ve ever lived.
The house layout was a little unique. I imagine the original structure might have been built in the 1930s to house a family that likely worked for one of the large local farms. It might have been 1500 square feet on a good day, and appeared to have been remodeled recently in an attempt to give it an airy feel.
There was one huge central room that pretty much had to be the bedroom, as all the other rooms in the house were too small to hold a bed. In front of the bedroom was a three season screened-in porch leading to the front door; off to the side was a sliver of a kitchen leading to a side door; and in the back was an all-purpose storage room and a bathroom. That was about it.
The friends I made in grad school loved to come out to this place to study, drink, build bonfires, and just hang out. Maybe not-too-imaginatively, it had been dubbed “The Farmhouse.” When we were outside in the fall, there was almost always a fire going. When we had to be inside, somehow it didn’t feel too strange that everyone was crashing in my bedroom; the bed was just another place to sit.
That’s how I found myself with my favorite study group one chilly spring evening during my first year in the program, studying for finals. Books were strewn aimlessly across my bedroom floor among empty soda cans, pizza boxes, food-stained plates, and discarded backpacks. The strangely familiar, acrid, but oddly pleasant burning smell of a warm furnace wafted up through the heating vents.
Finals were scheduled for the following week, and after hours of cramming we had reached our collective wit’s end. The human brain can only hold so much memorized information that’s not absolutely necessary for survival, and we were well past our limits. So we had wound things up maybe an hour earlier and shifted gears to drinking and relaxing, talking about anything in the world except classes.
Trevor and I sat at the work table finishing off our second or third bottles of beer, while the girls were chipping away at a bottomless fuzzy navel pitcher that Anna kept refilling in the kitchen. Kimberly and Olivia were draped over my bed, Kimberly leaning back against the headboard over some pillows on one side while Olivia hung backward off the other, her long hair trailing to the floor, looking like the bohemian she was.
Anna had just come in from the kitchen with a drink refill, holding it carefully as she folded herself into a deep and well-sprung ancient armchair that I’d salvaged from university surplus.
“God, it feels so good not to think,” Anna declared as she settled in. She was what my grandmother would have called a fireplug: energetic and fit with a wild shock of shaggy dark copper tresses portending the advent of anime-inspired hairstyles that would be popular before long. She looked like a gymnast, but wasn’t…just one of those aggressively fit women who could get away with eating anything, and did. Her whole attitude and physicality screamed “Brooklyn!”, where she had grown up as part of an enormous Italian family.
“At least after finals, we’re done with the core,” observed Olivia. “Then there’s just one thing to think about until Christmas, when we get a real break.” She was referring to the semester’s capstone project, which would occupy our time for the month following Thanksgiving. By remarking on this, however, Olivia was close to flaunting the unwritten rule about not discussing school when we were supposed to be blowing off.
Olivia was almost a hippie, but considering her globetrotting academic parents and the five languages she spoke fluently after bouncing around Europe her whole young life, the label didn’t quite fit. She was more of a deeply pretty artsy-chic elfin genius. We knew she could dress up to impress the big muckety-mucks at any professional gathering, but with a slight change of outfit, she could also waltz smoothly into the gothiest or most techno of European clubs and fit right in.
“I can’t wait to be bored,” Trevor agreed. Trevor was an engineer, but unlike most engineers, he almost had a personality. (I’m kidding; Trevor was great. I know lots of engineers, and it’s just a thing with me to tease them.) He was among the kindest-hearted people I knew, and fun to hang out with, but the presence of Kimberly underscored everything in life that made poor Trevor feel socially awkward. He didn’t realize it then (and wouldn’t until many years later), but he was deeply respected by everyone who knew him for his intellectual and analytical abilities coupled with his straightforward affability. It’s always great to have that person on a team who can not only crunch numbers like a savant, but also flawlessly and sincerely integrate passages from The Silmarillion into everyday conversation.
Trevor looked over at Kimberly as he finished his beer. He was in love with her, but she was oblivious, and it was just never going to be. I’ll tell you, many years later Trevor would meet a terrific lady and they would build a wonderful family that I love like my own, but this night, in this moment, it was all shaping up to be just another round of heartbreak for my up and coming lifelong buddy.
“How about you, Kimberly?” he asked hopefully. Kimberly’s head was tilted back, eyes closed. She seemed to be meditating under her long wavy mane of dark blonde hair.
Kimberly was a sweetheart, but you had to invest some time to find that out. She had been high school royalty, queen of every social circle she joined, and princess of her wealthy suburban family. Where Anna was compact and fit, and Olivia was willowy and thoughtful, it was pretty clear that Kimberly’s ancestors had spent time in longboats plying the waters off distant shores, raiding and plundering villages. She was tall and casually athletic, made of graceful curves and long lean lines.
Kimberly didn’t actually feel disdain toward unpopular kids, but she’d been hanging out for so long with people who did that it was hard to tell the difference. She and I would end up quietly dating a bit in our second year, and it was then that I’d learn more about the kind person behind the pretty face. As it stood right now, though, she was just a little spaced out.
“How about me what?” she asked sincerely, coming out of her daze. Trevor took this as a minor dig, although it wasn’t intended that way.
“I mean, what are you looking forward to, when this is all over?”
“Oh, gosh,” she answered. “I don’t even know. I was just drifting and thinking how nice it was to be a little kid and not have to worry about exams and networking and interviews and…”
“Hey now,” I chided. “We’re blowing off, remember? Worrying is expressly forbidden.”
“Sorry, but still…it would be nice to be a kid again.”
“But when we were kids,” Anna chimed in, “we wished we could be older and do stuff like this.”
“Study for exams?” asked Olivia.
“No, hang out at our own place, ditch the adults, and drink.” Anna raised her glass and took another healthy swig of peach schnapps and OJ.
“My sisters and cousins and I used to stay with my grandparents at a place like this,” Kimberly remembered. “We’d run around all night playing flashlight tag or hide-and-seek, and then we’d come in and play cards or truth and dare and make popcorn and watch movies until bedtime.”
“It’s a little chilly for flashlight tag,” I pointed out. “But I have some cards somewhere.” I stood and walked toward the kitchen to root through my junk drawer. The conversation rambled on until I came back, fanning a deck through my hands.
Anna looked up at the sound. “My brain’s too fried to play cards,” she said.
Olivia pulled herself up on the bed. “We could play truth or dare…”
“Oh my God yes!” Kimberly sat up and bounced on the bed. “Let’s play truth or dare!”
Uh oh, I thought.
“Wait! Grab a book, or a pizza box…” Kimberly was looking frantically around the room.
I looked around too. “What do you need?”
“Something to spin a bottle on!” she said.
“Spin the bottle! I could get behind that.” I joked.
“You wish,” Kimberly teased. “You spin a bottle to play truth or dare, you reprobate.”
“No, wait,” Olivia said. “You can play truth or dare with a deck of cards.”
Kimberly was intrigued. “How does that work?”
“You put the deck in the middle and draw cards, one player at a time,” Olivia explained. “Drawing two through ten means you can pass. A red face card means you have to take a dare, and a black face card means you have to tell a truth. If you draw a red ace, though, you can force a dare on another player, or a black ace lets you ask someone else a truth.”
“Ooh, I love it!” Kimberly gushed. She was in organizing mode now; energized. It looked like some truth or dare of the playing card variety was going to be inevitable.
And it was. In short order, Kimberly had coaxed even Anna from her warm spot in the armchair, and we were all sitting at the work table around a face-down deck of shuffled cards. Trevor had chivalrously rolled a desk chair over to add to the four regular kitchen chairs so we’d all have a place to sit, and the game began.
From where I sat on one end of the table, Trevor in his desk chair was immediately to my left, followed clockwise by Olivia, Kimberly, and then around to Anna on my right.
Kimberly drew first, picking the first of three low cards that would take us around to poor Trevor, who picked the Queen of Diamonds. A dare. At this, the girls all pumped their fists and dropped into a quick huddle, initiating a subtle “girls versus guys” pattern that would define this little game throughout the evening.
“Wait right there,” Kimberly finally instructed Trevor as his three pretty tormentors scurried off to the kitchen. Trevor looked at me helplessly as they rattled dishes and cabinets amidst much low whispering. Shortly, Kimberly strolled out and approached him ominously. “You can’t look,” she instructed as she stepped behind Trevor and placed her hands over his eyes, causing him to blush furiously at her touch. Behind her, Anna and Olivia emerged, carefully balancing a large spoon filled with something.
“We dare you to taste this,” Anna said as she moved the spoon toward Trevor’s lips. Dutifully, he parted his lips, took the spoonful, and gagged as he swallowed a bite of whipped cream, olives, black pepper and balsamic vinegar. Ever the good sport, though, he swallowed it as the girls laughed and cheered, and then ran off aawkkking into the kitchen for another beer to wash it down.
Once he'd recovered, more low cards got us around to Anna, who drew the King of Clubs and had to describe an embarrassing PDA on a New York subway train after a date in her undergrad days. My turn was next, and I drew the Jack of Hearts. Goddamn it, a dare.
The girls cheered once again and scooted into a huddle. There seemed to be some debate this time, but it was hard to tell who was arguing for what. Olivia appeared to be an instigator, with Anna pushing back and Kimberly as the swing vote. Regardless, they all turned around and regarded me with mischievous smiles once a decision was reached.
“Quinn,” Olivia announced, suppressing a giggle. “We dare you to strip to your underwear and then run out to get your mail.” Which I hadn’t done for days. Get my mail, that is.
It was a good 70 yards from my front door to the end of the driveway where my neglected mailbox sat, and it was fucking chilly. “It’s, like, almost ready to snow out there,” I protested.
“Oh, suck it up,” Kimberly chided. “Just thank Anna that you get to keep your underwear on.”
That raised my eyebrows a little – it seemed like everyone’s booze was kicking in – so I decided if I was going to do this, I’d do it right. I stripped a little slow, stepping up at one point to let Olivia finish pulling off my shirt and then tossing my jeans over Kimberly’s head as the girls whooped and hollered. Trevor just shook his head.
Nearly naked, and fully expecting some kind of further prank, I took off barefoot, sprinting through the chilly night air across my long front yard as my “friends” cheered me on from the screened in front deck. There were no neighbors to speak of, but of course once I reached the mailbox, a lonely car drove by and honked as I started my run back toward the house.
I returned, winded, to cheers and a roomful of suppressed grins as of course all of my clothes had mysteriously disappeared in my absence. Suppressing shivers, I tried to just sit back nonchalantly in my chair wearing nothing but boxers, but it was admittedly a little hard to look dignified. Finally Kimberly stepped up, arms open and curling her fingers for a hug, which in my current state of dress seemed a risky but completely enjoyable proposition. As we embraced, she whispered into my ear the word “bathtub,” which is where I found my clothes roughly piled.
Returning to the group wearing sweats and a hoodie, I sat back down and we continued the game among the self-satisfied smiles of my destined-for-vengeance friends.
Trevor and Olivia drew low cards, and then the fates finally delivered a dare card to Kimberly: the Jack of Diamonds. The huddle this time included Trevor and me, and once again it was Olivia with the devious idea. “Let’s make her remove some clothing,” she suggested.
Trevor audibly gulped.
“Are you kidding?” Anna said jokingly. “What is this, you pervert, strip poker?”
“No, I mean like maybe four items,” Olivia clarified. “It’s more for the shock value when we say it, but she could just kick off her shoes and socks or take off her buttondown. She has a tank top on underneath.”
“I like it,” I agreed, at the moment wearing only three articles of clothing myself and thirsty for a little payback.
So we agreed, and Olivia’s announcement of the dare had the desired effect on Kimberly, who blushed to her roots, laughing. Trevor had never stopped blushing. “Do shoes and socks count as one item each or two?” she asked.
“One,” I jumped in before anyone could answer, getting some raised eyebrows from both Anna and Trevor but a wicked smile from Olivia.
“Ok, well then a belt better count as one too,” Kimberly insisted as she pulled off her shoes and socks, her buttondown shirt, and her belt. This left her in a thin white tank top and snug jeans, and damn, did she look fit.
For both of our sakes, I walked over and cranked up the furnace. It looked like Kimberly’s nipples could etch glass.
Next Anna drew a low card, and then I drew the Queen of Clubs. My first truth. Kimberly shouted "yes!" and pumped her fist, and with evil grins, the girls huddled once more to consider my question while Trevor just shook his head.
“Dude, I’m gonna make a pit stop,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to know the answer to whatever they decide to ask.”
“Bah,” I countered. “I’m an open book.” But really I'm not.
Finally the girls broke their huddle and regarded me a little boozily. Kimberly was apparently their spokesperson this time. “Ok Quinn," she asked. "What's the craziest thing you’ve ever done sexually?”
“Ha! Now I am definitely going to the john!” declared Trevor, standing and heading toward the back.
I looked at the three smiling girls, now leaning toward me with sparkling eyes as Trevor rounded the corner and closed the bathroom door. Should I tell them the truth? I think they could tell from the look on my face that I might have a less-than-boring answer. After a few seconds, Kimberly added, “You’re thinking about lying. Don’t you dare.”
“No pun intended,” I offered.
“Ha, right,” she said. “Come on, Quinn. How bad can it be?”
"It's not bad at all, but if I tell the truth you'll think I'm bullshitting you."
"What…why?" Kimberly asked.
"You'll say I don't seem like the type."
Olivia looked sympathetic, God bless her. Remember, this was 1994. "It's OK if you're gay," she said sincerely.
"Yes I agree, and thank you, but I'm not," I replied.
The toilet flushed and Trevor made his way back in. "I hope you guys can't hear me out here as well as I can hear you in there," he said to laughs all around. "So Jesus, Quinn, just spill it. The suspense is killing me."
"Ok, I'm into bondage."
Three jaws dropped into shocked Os, and Trevor said “What?!”
"If they're willing – and I've met more than a few who are – I like to tie women up," I explained.
Kimberly found her voice. “You mean, like, for sex?” she asked quietly.
I shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Um, what happens other times?” asked Olivia.
I started to answer, but Anna jumped in. “Wait a minute,” she said. “Look at him! Mr. Clean Cut All American Business Guy. He just came up with the most shocking thing he could think of and now he’s messing with us.”
She looked a challenge at me, and I smiled a little. “Surely you're not suggesting that I might violate the sanctity of truth or dare, the playing cards version.”
Trevor laughed, and Anna cocked her head. “Ok then," she asked, "when’s the last time this happened?”
I thought back. “Am I still under oath?”
Kimberly and Olivia answered together. “Yes!”
“About three weeks ago.”
“In here?!” Anna looked around, then over at the bed.
“As a point of order,” I suggested, trying to divert the flow, “isn’t it common practice that ‘truth’ in this game involves answering only a single question?”
This was met by a chorus of ohhh nos. “We’re pausing the game,” Kimberly said, fully recovering. “This calls for some investigation.”
“I still think you’re shitting us,” declared Anna.
I looked at her and shrugged.
“Hang on a second,” Olivia cut in. “Back to my earlier question. You said ‘sometimes’ for sex. What happens other times?”
I looked around at them again. Oh boy, I thought. “I mean, it usually, eventually works its way around to sex.”
“Ok, just wait.” Kimberly held out her hands like an umpire calling safe, looking amused and intrigued. “Let’s review what we know. One, Quinn likes to tie women up, presumably once they've agreed to it, and then something happens that ‘usually, eventually’ leads to sex. Two, this happened about three weeks ago. Was it in here?”
“I didn’t say.”
“Was it. In here.”
“Yes.”
“So it was someone we know?”
“It was not.” That was true.
“Hmmmm…”
"When I look at you, I just don't picture leather and whips and chains," Anna insisted.
"How about candles and ropes and moans?" I offered helpfully.
Kimberly and Olivia exchanged a look; Anna put her hands on the table and leaned toward me a little combatively.
“Ok then Brad,” Anna challenged (‘Brad’ was her all-purpose derogatory nickname for white bread suburban college guys). “Prove it.”
I looked at her evenly, pushing a little dom into it. "Put your wrists behind the chair."
Her eyes flew wide. "Ha!!! What if I did? If you did this only three weeks ago, I guess you'd just grab the rope or handcuffs or whatever you keep handy around here, huh?" She whipped her hands around the chair behind her. "Let's see it then!"
Olivia came to the rescue. "Anna, hey girl, take a breath. We're playing truth or dare, right? You know, that game where you learn interesting things about your friends? I'd say it's working, and Quinn is being pretty cool about it."
Kimberly nodded her head.
Trevor smiled and bumped my arm. "You dirty dog," he teased.
Anna blew out a long breath. "You're right, O. I'm sorry Quinn. I blame residual stress from finals week."
"All good," I told Anna, squeezing her shoulder. "I'm always up for a spirited discussion." MBA-speak.
"Ok then, back to the game!" Kimberly looked at Olivia. "Your turn."
It was all kidding around and low card draws until the turn came back to me. And of course I drew the King of Diamonds. Another dare. Maybe that wasn’t so bad; we needed a little break from the truth.
Without the usual huddle, Olivia's face lit up immediately. "I’ve got it!", she said. We all looked at her. "I dare Quinn to tie me up."
The room erupted. Trevor shouted, "Whooooaaa!" while Anna and Kimberly laughed and clapped their hands. Olivia beamed.
I arched my eyebrows and looked at her. "Are you serious?"
She nodded.
"Cards on the table buddy!" Anna teased, still laughing.
I pooched my lips slightly and stood, pulling Olivia's chair back a little roughly for effect and walking slowly around her, sizing her up as she watched me and smiled.
"Mmmm," I said. "Wait right there."
There were big eyes all around the table as I made my way back to the storage room, where just inside the door, neatly coiled on the wall, I found and gathered several pre-cut lengths of soft rope. I also grabbed a couple stray lengths of black bootstring, because you never know when some string might come in handy. Right, riggers?
The room had remained quiet, but no one's eyes had gotten any smaller in my absence. Everyone tracked me as I returned and dropped into a crouch behind Olivia, sorting the rope on the floor and easing her arms down straight against each side of the chair's backrest.
She just smiled and looked down side to side, bending her hands out prettily at the wrists as I found some short lengths of rope to tie each one in place.
I glanced up to find that Anna had risen to see over the table, and Trevor and Kimberly were leaning off to the sides to watch.
"Your rope is all cut to different lengths," Kimberly observed, looking at the coils on the floor.
"Mmm hmm," I agreed.
Next I tied Olivia's ankles to the chair on either side, drawing her heels back to secure her socked feet against the chair leg's crossbar, almost tiptoe. She rotated each foot as it was secured.
I heard Anna say quietly, "Jesus God."
Holding my friends’ rapt attention, now with Olivia's wrists and ankles secured I doubled over a long piece of rope and snugged her torso into place, wrapping elbows to shoulders above and below her breasts. As I wove the line through the chair's backrest and tightened it, Olivia tried to twist and squirm.
"He's, uh, pretty good at this," she said to Anna.
I finished the tie by throwing a loop around each of Olivia's thighs and locking her upper legs to the outsides of the seat. Unnecessary with no clit teasing planned, but aesthetic.
She couldn't move, she was comfortable, and stepping back, I didn't think it looked half bad.
"You found those ropes pretty quick," Anna admitted. "And they're all cut to length."
I shrugged. Olivia wriggled. Trevor and Kimberly smiled and looked from Olivia to Anna.
Anna shrugged too, looking from Olivia back to me. "When I'm wrong, I'm wrong," she said. We shook hands and regarded our helpless friend on the chair.
"Now what?" I asked Olivia. "It's your dare."
She wriggled some more. "Just leave me like this," she decided. "It's kinda comfortable. Someone else can draw my card after Trevor goes."
"Just try not to think about peeing," Trevor said, to laughs around the table.
Everyone adjusted quickly to Olivia’s unusual predicament as another round of low card draws took us around the table. The girls asked Olivia a couple of times if she was ok, and she kept insisting all was good. Eventually the turn came back to her.
Trevor pulled her next card: the Ace of Hearts. A low oooooo murmured through the room as we saw our first ace…Olivia could now assign a dare.
She looked devilishly at the other girls. Kimberly’s eyes went wide and Anna cut a glance at me. "Don't even think about…"
"I dare Kimberly to get tied up by Quinn," Olivia finished, flashing an impish grin.
“Oh no you don’t!” gasped Kimberly as Anna laughed and applauded. Traver cut loose a “HA!” as his skin flushed four shades redder. Olivia had shifted her twinkling eyes to me now, so I gave her a smile and then turned it toward Kimberly.
Kimberly was busy giving Olivia a quick once over, possibly contemplating herself in such a predicament. Her face was flushed as well, and she turned to me with a slight look of desperation as I rose from my chair. Everyone was chuckling as I strode slowly and purposefully around to her, kicking my ropes over next to her chair.
“Ohhhhh Goooood…” she whimpered theatrically as I dropped to a crouch behind her.
“Hands,” I said a little sternly. I could be theatrical too.
Kimberly straightened in her chair and dropped her hands to her sides like Olivia’s, but I had other ideas. I grabbed one wrist, then the other, and positioned them side by side at the small of her back against the chairback’s vertical slats. “Hey!” she said, straining forward as I lashed them securely in place. “Olivia’s hands are on her sides!”
“I’m assuming none of you have seen bondage before, and may never see it again, so I just thought I’d mix up my examples,” I explained.
Tying up Kimberly was a different kettle of fish than Olivia. Nordic ancestors had given the tall blonde longer arms, longer legs, more overall height, and larger hands and feet than her more western European companion. It was those longer legs I concerned myself with next, reaching under the chair from behind and looping her ankles together with a quick double column tie.
“Hey!” Kimberly complained again as I pulled her bound ankles back under the chair and over the crossbar. I tied the ankle line off to the base of the backrest below her wrists. I watched the narrow, softly angular soles of her large feet cross over each other repeatedly as she tried to pull them away, her toes not quite reaching the floor.
Another side note for the riggers: I assume at least 60% of the furniture in your house is ideal for bondage…for me it’s more like 80%.
Kimberly had begun to twist and struggle as I stood, maybe hoping to pull a hand free, but I still had another step in mind. As with Olivia, I cinched another doubled rope around the base of her sternum just above her elbows, securing her torso to the backrest with a few quick loops. Ultimately I passed the two loose ends of the rope once more through the bight below Kimberly’s breasts, and then pulled them up over her shoulders to secure to the chair again, harnessing her upper body in place.
I saw Trevor looking on with interest, and I understood why. My final step in Kimberly’s bondage left little to the imagination below her tank top. But it also reduced her struggles considerably. As I stepped around to inspect my work, the look Kimberly gave me was an interesting mix of astonishment, desperation, and anticipation.
She was absolutely gorgeous.
Kimberly struggled impressively. “If I had any doubts…” she began.
“You are my study group,” I intoned solemnly. “And I will never lie to you.”
Among the more enjoyable things I did that evening was to return to my chair in the next moment and regard my two beautiful bound teammates, squirming helplessly in their chairs as smiles and jokes were shared among the group. I’ve “come out” about bondage to good friends many times, but never before or since with such spectacular results, at least until the LOL video store startup that would come along twelve years later. (I’ve even tried the “truth or dare” trick a few more times since then, but never with such amazing luck.)
But the game wasn’t over.
Anna drew two low cards next, one for Kimberly and one for her, and then it was back to me.
The Queen of fucking Spades. A truth. This just wasn’t my night for cards. Or on the other hand, this might have been my best night for cards ever.
Regardless, I had a truth to tell. Anna walked over and hunkered down between her trussed friends to brainstorm. This time, Trevor leaned in as well. Another minor conflict seemed to rise and fall between Anna and Olivia. Finally, everyone nodded, and Olivia spoke.
“Earlier,” she began, addressing me, “you said that you ‘usually, eventually’ have sex with the women who let you tie them up.”
“Present company excluded,” added Kimberly to a round of laughs.
Olivia continued. “But you at least implied that something else, or some other things happen beforehand.”
“Uh huh,” I said. Oh boy.
“What are those things?” Olivia finished.
I sighed and looked at each of them. It seemed like these folks were about to get to know me as only a handful of others did. Why not? I thought. When you hold a part of your life secret, there’s alway something a little compelling about having a chance to share it. And I was already halfway in.
“Well,” I began, “I’ve met a few women who like to be spanked, sometimes where you’re thinking, sometimes in other places. It’s not my first choice personally, but if they enjoy it, I’ve always been happy to oblige.”
“That’s because you’re such a sweetheart of a guy,” joked Trevor, getting some chuckles.
“And then of course you can cause orgasms without actual sex,” I went on. “Like giving oral, or using my fingers.” Vibrators, as I recall, weren’t incredibly popular in the early to mid 90s. But maybe that was just my experience. I’m a huge fan of the control that cunnilingus brings. To me, for the longest time, vibrators seemed like kind of a blunt instrument.
As I spoke, Olivia was looking at me with some intensity. Kimberly was blushing, her jaw dropped slightly. Trevor was a little wide-eyed, and Anna was just looking down.
“So…” Kimberly ventured. “Sometimes when you tie girls up, you just make them have orgasms.”
“Mmm hmm,” I agreed, “among other things. Maybe a few, anyway, and then we might move on to having regular sex.”
“A few orgasms,” Olivia emphasized. “And then sex while they’re still tied up…”
I shrugged. “Sometimes, not always.”
“And by ‘among other things,’ do you mean spanking?” Olivia prompted.
“Wow, you really want all the details,” I teased, thinking in for a penny… “Not necessarily spanking, not always. I actually have more fun with tickling.”
This got another “Ha!” from Trevor, and Anna’s head snapped up. Olivia raised her eyebrows, and Kimberly’s jaw dropped another inch.
“You tie girls up and tickle them?!” It was Kimberly who spoke.
“Sure,” I said. “I mean, it seems nicer than spanking, and it can be a lot of fun.”
“Why would anyone let you do that?” Anna asked.
“Some people just like to give up control,” I explained. “I’ve also known women who like to be tied up simply to struggle. For other people who enjoy helplessness, anything that highlights it can enhance the experience. Like spanking, or orgasms, or tickling.”
Olivia was nodding as I spoke and Anna was looking away, but smiling. Trevor was still wide-eyed and shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Kimberly squirmed and said, “If you tickled me right now, I would die.”
“Well, now you guys know everything,” I said. “Vegas rules, ok? I’m not ashamed of this, but it’s something only my best friends know, and not even all of them.”
Kimberly said, “Of course,” and Anna nodded. It was a good group; I knew no one would gossip.
Well, I was pretty sure anyway.
“All right,” Kimberly said. “Let’s finish this game and get me untied! One more round?” We had about half a deck left.
“Deal,” Trevor said. He drew a five, and then two more low cards for Olivia and Kimberly. Next it was Anna’s turn. She picked up her card and smiled, flipping it back onto the table face up.
The Ace of Diamonds. Anna could force a dare on someone. If I mention the Grinch’s smile in the Christmas special, can you picture what I mean? That was pretty much the expression on Anna’s face.
“This is so easy…” she crooned.
Olivia’s chin dropped, and Kimberly said, “What?”
“Quinn,” Anna said with a suppressed laugh in her voice, “I dare you to tickle Olivia and Kimberly.”
“Ooohhhh!” Trevor shouted and clapped as he leaned back in the desk chair. I’m sure my face flushed a little, although I don’t embarrass easily. Anna, of course, was beaming.
Olivia’s jaw finally dropped open, turning her mouth into a broad, smiling O. And Kimberly took on a look of absolute shock.
“Anna!” she yelled. “Oh my God, take it back!” She really started to twist and fight her ropes, but she wasn’t about to go anywhere.
“You two are the ones who got us here,” Anna reasoned. “Time to pay the piper!”
Shrugging, I rose from my chair and moved toward them. “And I’m not sure who thought up the ‘hide his clothes’ gag earlier,” I said, “but there's at least a 50% chance it was one of you.”
“It was Olivia! It was Olivia!” Kimberly shrieked as I rounded the table. Her chair started scooching noisily around on the floor as she thrashed.
“Snitch,” accused Olivia as I walked behind her. She was tensed up, but at least not panicking like Kimberly. I decided to tickle her first. Kimberly, still firmly trussed, stopped her struggles to watch, in shock, as I knelt behind her friend.
It was hard to get to Olivia’s ribs the way I’d tied her arms, so the easiest targets from my position were the soles of her socked feet. I reached underneath them on each side and began tickling.
Olivia made an “Eep!” noise and immediately went up on her toes, lifting and scooting the chair forward about half an inch. To prevent that from happening again, I scooted around and started tickling only her right foot with one hand as I held her chair with the other.
As a ticklee, Olivia was a squirmer and a squealer. Anna and Trevor were probably laughing more than she was, but she was also far from impervious. After several seconds, she finally opened her mouth to say “Stop it!” and a stream of laughter poured out.
When I finally stopped ticking, she shot me her impish grin, now a little bit flustered. Then I scooted around in front of her and realized there was still no way to get to her ribs, really from any angle. However, my artistic flourish to secure her thighs earlier was about to pay big dividends, as it left her knees completely helpless.
As I reached for them, she screamed “No please…NO!!!” and I knew we had a winner. Sure enough, one good squeeze and we were into full-on hysterics. Her chair bounced as she shrieked, as her toes could still get a little purchase, but after a few seconds all she could do was laugh hysterically and thrash.
In probably less than a minute she was exhausted, and I stopped. She had been amazingly fun to tickle, but I can’t even begin to describe how much I was looking forward to the next round with Kimberly.
Sitting back from Olivia, I tried for a slow dramatic turn toward Kimberly, complete with a smug smile. By swinging her weight, she had managed to scoot her chair around to face us and watch her friend’s torment, so as I turned she was looking right at me. And what I saw was one of the greatest pre-tickle spectacles of all time.
Kimberly was strong and agile, and she’d been struggling wildly to escape since I’d risen from my chair, but she was every bit as helpless now as she’d been when I tied my last knot, if not moreso. With her wrists bound behind her, the chest harness cinched around her large breasts and tied to the chairback, and her bare feet lashed together and pulled up tight beneath her, she was the perfect picture of vulnerability.
And the look on her face. I’ve never seen an expression that so perfectly mixed fear and desperation with curious anticipation. She knew she was about to be tickled, and she hated the idea, but also she didn’t, because in truth Kimberly and I already had some chemistry between us, and something about her being helpless to my touch excited us both.
As I rose and moved toward her, she began to plead. “Quinn? Quinn. Don’t tickle me like this. Do NOT tickle me!” She started to rock in her chair, and actually got it to tip a little.
Fortunately, a helpful and smiling Anna made her way forward to hold the chair in place from behind. “You’re HELPING?!” Kimberly cried out, and Anna just nodded and smiled some more.
As the tickling compilation video title says, women can be vicious.
Trevor was rapt, to say the least, as I made my slow way toward Kimberly. Her eyes were locked on me, and she began to thrash again as I entered touching distance. But there was nowhere to go. Especially with Anna anchoring her chair, Kimberly simply had zero leverage.
Defeated, she finally held still and her eyes grew soft as she shifted tactics to feminine wiles. “Please, Quinn. Please, come on. Don't tickle me. Please, please, please…joke’s over, okay?” She was actually incredibly good at this. Not that I’d have changed my mind for anything, but it was amazing to watch her try.
Finally, I slid my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie and got an idea. “Tell you what, Kimberly,” I offered as I started to step around her. “I’ll only tickle your feet.”
“NOOO!!!” The screaming and thrashing were back with a vengeance, but Anna leaned in and held the chair still, stepping around to the side to make room for me to sit behind it. “Quinn!!! PLEASE!!! You can’t do this!!!” Kimberly screamed as I settled in.
As expected, I found her bare feet thrashing under the chair like she was being electrocuted. No worries, I thought as I pulled from my hoodie pocket the things that had just triggered this idea: the strings I’d grabbed from the back room earlier. Time for the complete and unabridged bondage demo.
I threw a quick loop into the first string and managed to slip it over one of her big toes, cinching it tight. This earned me a scream and extra thrashing, followed by a terrified cry from Kimberly: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
“He’s tying her toes!” Anna exclaimed as she leaned around to watch me. This got a “What?” from Trevor and a “Oh you’re screwed” from Olivia.
“No No No STOP IT!” Kimberly struggled as I trapped her other toe in a loop, knotted the two strings together, and then secured her bound toes to the crossbar under the chair, pulling her feet out straight. The size of her feet made for a good fit, and now they were quite done thrashing. She could only flex them in place and wiggle her toes, which she did prettily.
“Ok, here comes,” I warned. I saw Kimberly’s whole body freeze and tense as she anticipated the tickling touch. When it came, her feet immediately tensed and I got a series of quick, loud, high pitched screams as she bucked in the chair. Good thing Anna’s helping, I thought.
The screams dissolved into strong, healthy, unabashed “HAHAHAHAHA” type belly laughs as I kept tickling. Kimberly bucked in the ropes helplessly, and while it was fun from where I was sitting to watch her hands grasp and flail around, I decided I really wanted to see her face, so I scooted around to begin tickling her from the side.
This gave her a short break to catch her breath, and earned me a pleading look as she glanced down to her side to find me changing positions. Her face was red, her hair disheveled, and her mouth open in a breathy pant as she caught my eye. And before I began tickling her again, I noticed that her nipples under the thin shirt were standing at full attention. To be honest, so was I, and I knew I’d need to stay on the floor for a while to avoid some embarrassment.
It was a good move, though, to be able to watch Kimberly’s desperate expression for the finale of her tickle torture. And it was equally cool to see Anna reach down to tickle the foot I couldn’t reach as we finished her off. This got a scream of “ANNA!!!” among the belly laughs, and since Anna was also not shy about rib tickling, it gave Kimberly someone else to spread the blame to for the next few minutes of her suffering.
Later, everyone was untied and we were sprawled around the room again, the girls and Trevor waiting for their alcoholic buzzes to fade before driving. I had brewed some coffee, and we all sat around drinking it and recovering from our various ordeals.
Olivia and Kimberly were great sports about their tied tickle torture, even admitting it was at least a little bit fun once it was over. Trevor seemed a little stunned having seen his scantily-clad crush bound and tortured earlier, but he was doing just fine. And Anna was finally relaxed, having triggered the whole tickling incident, even jumping in and helping at the end with extra feet and body tickles.
They all got home safely, and we all did pretty well on our finals.
*****
I guess there’s a bit of an epilogue here.
Disappointingly, that was the last time I tied up Olivia. It’s not that I didn’t drop hints and eventually even ask, because she certainly seemed interested that evening and afterward, but if she did experiment any further with bondage, it was never with me. We stayed good friends through the program, but it’s been decades since I’ve heard from her.
Anna sort of drifted away when we got back for the program’s second year. There was no reason, except that our class schedules mostly kept us apart. She was a marketing major, and to this day I have no idea what those people do.
As I already hinted, Kimberly and I stayed in touch over the summer, and when school started again, we even dated for a little while. We kept it on the DL so as not to bother Trevor, although by the following year he was already over his crush. I had mentioned it to Kimberly on his behalf early on, and she simply didn’t want to cause any hard feelings.
It turned out Kimberly was quite intrigued by bondage and its many associated activities. We spent a fair amount of time together experimenting in the farmhouse, where no one can hear you scream or laugh. And she did a lot of both. But those were the days my future wife Laura was beginning to enter the picture, and as spectacular as Kimberly was, we eventually had an amicable parting of the ways and moved on. We stayed friends for a number of years, and I know she got married and had kids, but I haven’t caught up with her in a very long time. I can hardly stand Facebook.
Trevor and I are still great friends. He lives far away, but whenever life has brought us together we’ve enjoyed those times to their fullest. Our kids are friends, and so are our wives, and we pretty much feel more like one clan than two when we’re all together.
Among the adults in that extended clan, the “truth or dare” story has been a long running classic for decades. Laura, who briefly crossed paths with Kimberly, still gives me a hard time every so often about the “viking princess” she had to chase off after we met.
I don’t think Trevor and his wife are kinky, but then you can never really know.
And finally, if you're so inclined, maybe try the “truth or dare with playing cards” scenario for yourself sometime and see if it works out. Maybe even stack the deck. I’ve tried like hell myself, but I’ve never gotten that lucky again.
THE END
Real great job!
