laughter_n_love
TMF Regular
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- Nov 2, 2001
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I took one last look at my bedroom before shutting the door. If things went as planned, I'd be back in there in a few hours, and the room and everything in it would be waiting for me.
It was nearly 7 o'clock on a Friday night, and I was expecting company. Just one person, to be exact; a co-worker by the name of Elizabeth. Both Liz and I worked as event planners for a major hotel chain, and very recently, we had discovered we might possibly share a mutual interest.
The hotel where we worked hosted many functions, from weddings to conferences to trade shows. There was a pair of enormous ballrooms that could hold hundreds of guests/customers/fans/etc, and it was our job to keep them filled as often as possible. The hotel gave us license to screen and vet those who would rent out the spaces, but in the end, a dollar is a dollar, no matter who is spending it, and it was that kind of thinking that led the fetish show to occupy Ballroom A two weekends ago.
It was Liz who had taken the booking, but I had been called in to help, as the show was on the larger side and required more coordination than Liz could handle on her own. Between the two of us, we had helped the show organizers lay out how the ballroom would be mapped out, with tables and booths logically placed, and with an area set aside for live demonstrations. Normally, we would be there on the day of major bookings to make sure the events took place as expected and the renters had everything they needed, and it was no different on that particular Saturday. It turned out the organizers of the show were on top of things, so we found ourselves with a lot of free time during the day-long event. We took advantage of this by wandering around the ballroom and checking out what the show had to offer.
I had recently just turned 30, and I guessed Liz to be about the same age or maybe a few years younger. We were casual girlfriends in the sense that we kept each other informed about the relationships in our lives, so at present, we each knew the other was currently between boyfriends, but we hadn't known each other long enough to think of each other as BFFs or anything. Still, we found themselves whispering and giggling conspiratorially as we wandered around the fetish show, both at times blushing furiously at what we saw, and at other times rendered speechless. Seeing what the world of intimacy and sex had to offer to those who think outside the box was a true eye opener for me, and I could tell it was for Liz as well.
It was the moment we found themselves standing in the back of a crowd of onlookers watching a bondage demonstration that things took a significant turn for the interesting. On the elevated stage, a man was intricately binding a bikini-clad woman with rope. Lots and lots of rope. He worked magic with that rope, winding it around her limbs and torso, and tying off parts of her to other parts of her until she was this gorgeous, helpless object, unable to move an inch. Liz hadn't been able to take her eyes off the scene, and I hadn't failed to notice.
"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" I had asked.
"It's unbelievable. Look at her! She's completely immobile," Liz had said.
"You ever do anything like that?"
Liz had blushed at this. "Once, sorta. I bought these fuzzy handcuffs once and wore them for my boyfriend, but he wasn't into it."
"No? You were hoping for something more like that?" I had asked, nodding towards the bound woman again.
Liz had shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not quite like that. That looks a bit...intense."
"Yeah, but look at her face. She's loving it."
"I know. She was smiling the whole time he was tying her up. I mean, I guess I can understand the fascination with it, but can you imagine being like THAT?"
This time it was me who had shrugged, but I hadn't hesitated with my answer. "I think it looks like fun."
Liz had peeled her eyes off the bound woman and looked at me. "But you've never tried it."
I had smirked. "I've never trusted anyone enough to ever let them do anything like that to me. But I would, if I knew I could trust them." I had paused then, imagining myself in the place of the bound woman on the stage. "I totally would."
I think Liz had been a bit humbled and awed by my honesty. She had turned back to the bound figure as well. "Yeah. I guess I would too. Kind of hard to admit you want to be tied up, you know?"
A few seconds had ticked by before I spoke again. "We should do it. Together."
"Are you serious?"
"Totally serious. Why not? We both just said it looks like fun. We could do it at my place and no one will ever have to know." When Liz hadn't replied, I had added. "At least we'll get to find out if it's really fun or not. We might not ever otherwise."
Liz had begrudgingly agreed to that, and we had spent the rest of the fetish show on a mission. We talked to the man selling bondage ropes and each bought a set of the kind he recommended. We visited a novelty store booth and picked through the bondage-themed toys, and I purchased both a blindfold and ball gag and then tried to convince Liz to do so as well. The woman running the booth cut us a deal until Liz had no choice but to agree. We found books on bondage at another booth, and I purchased a beginners how-to book with step-by-step instructions and pictures. At the end of the show, we settled on a date to get together to try out our new toys.
In the weeks that had followed the show, we hadn't talked much about their plans. I had been studying the book and practicing the different kinds of knots and how to perform both single-column and two-column ties. As the date drew nearer, my anticipation grew and grew, but I could tell Liz was starting to have second thoughts. Over lunch the day before, I talked about how much fun we were going to have and how we would justify all that money they spent on the toys. In the end, I used guilt to convince Liz to follow through, saying that if she chickened out, she'd be denying both of us a chance to find out what it felt like.
I checked myself out in the hall mirror one last time. I'd opted for a casual, comfy look with a hoodie and sweatpants, knowing they would be easy to shed once it was time to reveal what I wore underneath. I still wasn't sure if Liz was going to show up or not, but I couldn't imagine how that would affect our personal and professional relationship if she didn't. I didn't have long to think about it though, because as the clock on the wall softly chimed out 7 o'clock, the doorbell rang.
I opened my apartment door with a flourish to find Liz standing there awkward and blushing, with an oversized bag slung over one shoulder. I tried to nix all the tension in the bud by stepping into the hallway and giving Liz an exaggerated hug. "No blushing! We are going to have fun tonight!" Liz couldn't help but giggle and did seem more at ease as she entered my home.
The living room was prepared for Liz too, with a few candles lit for scent and ambiance, and a fruit plate already waiting beside the bondage how-to book on the coffee table. The faux fireplace was lit with the fake flames giving the room a welcoming vibe. Liz plopped her bag down and sat on the couch, taking a grape. "What are you drinking?" I asked. "I have both red and white wine."
"Are you sure we should be drinking? Shouldn't we be sober for this?"
"Hell no. I want this to be fun for both of us. No way I'm not having at least a glass or two!"
Liz giggled again, an inviting sound. "Okay, I'll take a glass of white then, with an ice cube in it."
"Coming right up!"
I returned with a tray with two glasses of white wine and the bottle from which they were poured. We each took a glass and clinked them. "To new experiences," I toasted before we both had a taste of liquid courage.
We made small talk for a few minutes, discussing the traffic and weather and things that had happened that day at work, but I couldn't take my mind of what lay ahead. I refilled both our glasses as they neared empty, and Liz kept her nervous hands busy by picking at the fruit plate. Finally, I couldn't wait any more and put an end to the stalling.
I picked up the bondage book and flipped it open to a page that outlined how to tie a hogtie. Balancing the book on both our laps, I tapped the picture with one manicured nail. "This is how I think I should tie you up."
Liz's mouth popped open. I could tell the idea intrigued her, but that she felt I had breached some sort of etiquette with my suggestion. "Wait a minute...what do you mean? Why are you deciding for me how I get tied up? Don't I get to decide for myself?"
I chuckled. "Okay. So how do you want to be tied up then?" I gave a her a challenging smirk as I waited for her answer.
Liz opened her mouth to answer and she found no words coming out. That blush of embarrassment returned. "Fine! Like that I guess." Her eyes returned to the picture of the model tightly trussed in the hogtie. I could tell she was picturing herself like that. I wonder if her nippled stiffened under her top because mine sure did.
I moved the book aside and turned to face Liz. "Okay then. Let's get started."
Once again, Liz was stunned into a moment of silence. "Wait...why do I have to go first? Why don't you go first?"
I rolled my eyes at her. "Will you quit stalling? We are both going to have a turn." I stood up and moved to kneel on the throw rug in front of the fireplace. "So let's see what you've brought for me."
Liz took a steadying breath and moved to her huge bag. She reached in and pulled out a smaller bag before handing the rest to me. "Is there someplace I can change?" I pointed towards the bathroom. "You can use everything in there, " she said to me as she turned with the smaller bundle and headed into the bathroom.
I unpacked Liz's toys. I found everything Liz had bought at the fetish show, including the ball gag, which made me happy. Also in there was a pair of safety shears, which I hadn't thought of. Smart girl that Liz was.
Liz emerged from the bathroom wearing a string bikini. I had known Liz had a nice figure, but hadn't realized how toned she was. The outline of her muscles could be seen along her upper arms and especially around her core. I must have shown how impressed I was by the look on my face because Liz simply said, "I work out a lot," as if to answer.
Liz took another big sip of wine before she joined me on the rug. "Okay, I'm ready," she said. I could almost her heart pounding in her chest.
"Don't worry," I said, picking up a length of the rope. "Remember, this is about trust, right? If at any point you want me to stop, just say so." I began to work a chest harness around Liz's torso, with Liz helpfully keeping her hair up and out of the way.
"You mean, like a safe word?" I might have been practicing ties, but apparently Liz wasn't completely unfamiliar with the rules of BDSM.
"Sure, a safe word. Ummm...." I paused my work on the harness to spot the fruit plate. "If you want me to stop, just say 'grapes'." That made her chuckle.
I kept working on the harness until it was done and a neat web of ropes crossed around her upper torso and over her shoulders. There had been no embarrassing looks exchanged as I'd worked on the parts that winded the rope around and between her breasts; the time for shyness had passed. Liz shifted around a bit and grinned. "Feels tight, but good. Like I'm being hugged. You did a good job on this."
I was pleased. "It's my first one. I'm glad you like it." I grabbed more rope and had Liz kneel facing away from me. I started with her arms, bending them at the elbows until her forearms folded atop one another and then tied them together using a single-column tie. With the excess rope, I attached tied her arms off to the back of the chest harness.
I could feel Liz stiffening up as her freedom was being taken from her, so I stroked her hair in a relaxing fashion. "You doing okay? You want another sip of wine?" Liz nodded, as if she didn't trust her voice to answer, so I guided her glass to her lips and helped her take a sip. "You look amazing," I said, hoping to steel Liz's courage.
"Okay, keep going." Liz said, exhaling deeply. She was ready to take the next step. I could only imagine that her arms felt uncomfortable tied like that behind her, but I hope she didn't expect being tied up to feel comfy. She wasn't in pain, which was all I cared about. She could live with discomfort. I guided her to the floor so she was face down, as she couldn't do it safely on her own.. Already I was rendering her helpless and I'd only just begun. I once again wondered if her nipples were as hard as mine.
I used another piece of rope on Liz's ankles. This was a two-column tie, with the ropes looped around and in between her ankles. Once that tie was completed, I added another length of rope just below her knees. "Oh, I can't move at all," Liz said, giving her arms and legs a test to see if there was any wiggle room, which their wasn't.
"I'm almost done," I said, finding that my practicing was paying dividends, as my rope work was neat, and my knots were both clean and well placed. I could have left Liz like that, but it wasn't a hogtie yet. I threaded another rope through Liz's ankle ropes, getting it attached before pulling her ankles up towards her bottom. As Liz was proving to be both fit and flexible, I was able to completely fold her legs at the knees and tie the end of the rope off to the chest harness, completing the hogtie. "How's that feel?"
"Tight," Liz grunted, but she wasn't complaining. She was oddly quiet. I imagine she was getting used to the feel of being completely helpless. I could only hope she felt as thrilled about it as I did making her like that.
"Too tight?"
Liz flapped her feet and turned her head to the other side, which was about the limits of her mobility. "No, I'm good." I found my eyes drawn to her bare soles and slightly curled toes, which were decorated with a playful purple polish.
I grabbed Liz's ballgag and blindfold and scooted to where she could see them in my hands. "Ready for this part?"
Liz licked her lips. She looked nervous. "Just the blindfold. I'm not ready for that thing yet," she said. I noticed she seemed reluctant to use the word 'gag', as if that might encourage me.
I slipped the blindfold over Liz's eyes and took the time to make sure that it fit properly over her hair. I tightened it behind her head and waved my hand in front of her face. "Can you see anything?"
"Nothing," Liz said. Her voice was a bit breathy now. I took that as a good sign. I guessed she was losing herself in the moment, submitting to the fact that completely powerless now, which was the point.
"Gag time?" I asked.
She shook her head before turning it to one side and laying it on the rug. I saw her fingers curl and splay, and then her toes do the same. She was drinking in the moment. "How do I look?" she finally asked me, waving her feet back and forth again, almost as if to draw in my attention.
"Gorgeous!" I said, and I meant it. She grinned in my direction, with a hint of that blush returning to her exposed cheek. "You've got way too much movement with your feet though."
I thought I saw her smile widen a bit, but I couldn't be sure. "Give me a break. This is all I have left." She waved her feet around again, and now I was certain this is where she wanted my attention focused.
I positioned myself so that I was within easy reach of them. Pulling the hair tie from my hair, I began to loop it around her big toes, effectively tying them together.
"AAAaaggghh!" she squeaked at the touch of my hands around her toes. "What are you doing?" Though she made herself sound panicked, she made no effort to stop me from tying off her toes.
I couldn't help but giggle at her. "Taking away the rest of your freedom. Why, what's the problem?" I asked, but I suspected I was certain of the answer. There was a lengthy pause as she considered how to answer me. When she failed to speak, I put an end to her misery by vocalizing what we both were thinking. "Afraid I might tickle you?" I asked, walking two fingers down her right sole.
Liz lurched in her bondage, barking out a sharp giggle at my touch. "Don't!" she said, in full on panic mode this time. She tried to flail her feet around, but the strict hogtie and her tied toes gave her almost no room to wiggle them.
"Don't what?" I teased, giving her other sole the same two finger tickle walk treatment.
If she hadn't wanted to say the word 'gag', she really didn't want to say the word 'tickle'. "Don't do that!"
I giggled again. This was too much fun. "What am I doing?" I asked, innocent as could be. I scribbled wavy lines along the soft pad of her right foot.
Liz was finding out what it really meant to be locked in bondage. She squirmed on the rug, but it was easy enough for me to keep her where I wanted so her feet were at my disposal. Instead she flailed her head about, a grin plastered on her face, and seemingly unable to stop herself from giggling. "Please...You don't understand...It's torture...I can't stand it!"
I continued to play dumb, lightly scraping my nails over the pads of her toes. "What's torture? What can't you stand?"
Her laughter ratcheted up a notch. Clearly this was a weak spot for her. "Stop!" Her body thrashed in the hogtie, finding no relief. "Stop......tickling me!" she finally blurted out. She flapped her feet like a single flipper, but I found I could hold them in place by pressing back on her toes.
"Make me," I teased, using my free hand to really give both her soles a proper nail flickering. With her toes held back, her soles were taught and wrinkle free, and it was with no effort that my nails danced over her skin.
Liz screamed with laughter. She fought me as best she could, but she found no relief from my nails. My initial teasing tickles had gotten her going, but this direct attack had her in dire straights almost at once. She howled on the rug, laughing louder than I'd ever heard anyone laugh before, while that huge smile flashed at me from under the blindfold.
I kept my nails snaking over her soles for probably no longer than 30 seconds, but when I finally stopped, Liz was a mess. She was panting for air, with residual giggles still slipping out past that perma-smile. "You don't understand," she repeated. "I'm so ticklish." Duh, as if I hadn't just demonstrated that for myself. "This is torture."
In the back of my mind, something clicked. I wasn't tickling her at the moment, but I also hadn't announced I was done tickling her. She didn't say, "That was torture," as though it were over, but rather "This is torture," as if she was expecting more. Now the waving around of her feet earlier was starting to make more sense.
I decided to mess with her head a little. "Awww, I'm sorry. I'll stop now." Her smile slipped a bit, of that I'm sure. This wasn't the direction she was expecting. For a long moment, she couldn't think of what to say, of how to get the scene back on track, but I helped her out with that again. "Just kidding!" I blurted out, tickle attacking her soles again, this time with all 10 of my nails going to work.
Caught completely by surprise, she screamed louder than before, instantaneously kicked into thrashing mode. Her feet flapped excitedly under my nails, and I let them, allowing her the ability to struggle for relief as much as her bondage would allow while maintaining a constant tickling presence on her soles.
In addition to tickling her soles to the best of my abilities, I gave her a full dose of mental teasing as well. "Seems to me you like this kind of torture. You know you can stop me at any time by saying 'grapes', but you don't say it. I don't think you want to say it. You just want to lay there and let me keep on tickling and tickling and tickling you." I was really getting into torturing her, enjoying the rush of power that came with total control. "So, are you ready to admit you love it? C'mon, I want to hear you say you love it."
Liz could not stop laughing long enough to form sentences. The most she could muster was words of the monosyllabic kind, words like "Don't!" and "Stop!' and "No!" and "Please!". Not a single "grapes" though, I noted with some satisfaction. I started to wonder if I actually could get her to say it if I tickled her cruelly enough.
My nails moves to her toes, curling under the tips at tickling at the stems of each. I was rewarded with another window-vibrating scream and a steady stream of "Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!"s. I paused, wondering if I had done it, wondering if I had finally broken her. I leaned closer, eager to hear what she was about to say.
"Ready to admit you love it?" I taunted, my nails still resting on the pads of her toes.
She giggled and panted, seemingly dealing with an internal struggle. It took her a moment to catch her breath. When she finally responded, her words actually shocked me. "Is that the best you can do?" she challenged, the biggest smile ever stuck on her face.
"Oh, you're dead!" I renewed my attack on her toes, which she curled as a defense mechanism. This served to trap my nails against her toe stems, and all I needed to do was wiggle them slightly to effectively torture the underside of every single toe.
Liz started tapping out immediately. She lurched in the ropes, struggling like a fish out of water, all the while screaming "I give! I give!" between laughter. It eventually must have occurred to her that is not what I was pushing her to say, as the torturing of her toe stems continued on and on . With her feet pumping as far as they could with limited mobility, and her head thrown back towards the ceiling, she finally cracked. "I love it! I love it! Now staaahaaahaaap!"
"Don't care anymore. You had your chance." She wailed at my words as my nails continued their assault under and in between her toes. Her screeching was so loud, it was almost painful to my ears. "You want me to stop?" She nodded and screamed in answer. "Okay, I'll stop," I said, not stopping. "But if I do, you wear the gag. Deal?" She didn't even argue this time, instead nodding and shouting "Okay!"
I gave her ticklish feet a break. Personally, I've always enjoyed being tickled, but I had never really tickled anyone like this before, and now that I had, it was easy for me to see the attraction. All it took was a steady flickering of my nails over her skin to have her a ticklish, sweaty mess. It was hard to stop tickling her, actually, knowing that I didn't really have to if I didn't want to.
I positioned the rubber ball in front of her lips. "Open up," I said. She was still panting and grinning from ear to ear, but all that tickling must have seriously wiped away her earlier fears. Without a word, she opened her mouth and allowed me to push the ball back behind her teeth. A few moments later, it was fastened behind her head, tucked neatly under her hair. She was drooling around it before I was even finished securing it.
"Mmmpphh mmghm mmnmphmnnng," she mumbled, completely unintelligible behind the gag. I grinned. She could try to say "grapes" now and I'd never know it. Her ability to utter a safe word was gone.
Without a word, I moved to her side and gave her ribs a tickle on both sides. With her arms crossed behind her back, her sides were undefended. Unlike my own midsection, which was soft where you'd expect a woman to be soft, her sides were rock hard with taut muscle. All that muscle didn't stop her from being ultra ticklish though, as she once again bucked in the hogtie and attempted to wiggle away from me. The sounds of laughter she screamed from behind the gag were much quieter now, and all her words of protest were completely impossible to make out. I think she realized this because she stopped begging me to stop with her gibberish words and resigned herself to tortured laughter.
Her ribs proved a great launching point to her upper body. I couldn't really get at her underarms, but her hips were prime targets, and I goosed them without mercy. Most of her lower back was exposed, and this turned out to be a hotbed of ticklish nerve endings as well. I know I how ticklish I am from head to toe, and in this Liz and I appeared to share another characteristic. One place I've never been tickled is my ass, and I guess Liz never had been either, because when my nails danced over her cheeks, she bounced in surprise and agony.
I taunted her all the while too. "Aww, such ticklish ribs. So ticklish for someone so strong." "Are your hips ticklish? Let me just find out. Oh look, they are!" "Who has a ticklish bum? Whoooo has a ticklish bum??" I can't remember ever having more fun in my life than I was in those moments tickle torturing Liz, and part of me wondered if what made it so fun was knowing Liz would soon be getting a turn at having me tied up too.
I'm pretty sure she never tried to say "grapes". As I tickled her without mercy, I became more convinced than ever that when Liz agreed to explore bondage with me, her being tortured with tickles is exactly what she hoped would happen. I finished teasing her bum and took another crack at her feet, which had had plenty of time for the nerve endings to recharge their ticklishness. She was in such a state of delirious laughter that no matter where my nails danced over her feet, from her heels to the tops to the tips of her toes, she reacted like that was her most ticklish spot. She truly was an adorable tickle victim!
I was eager to get a crack at her front. With some effort, I rolled her onto one hip. She didn't even try to fight me. This left her heaving belly with the toned abs fully exposed for my wicked nails, and I did not disappoint her by ignoring it. I couldn't help but notice that her nipples were in fact rock hard under her bikini, much like my own. It made me wonder how far I should take the game. She drooled freely from behind the gag, with her muffled guffaws seemingly never ending, but it was clear to me this form of treatment was turning her on. Based on what I had planned for when it was my turn, during which I planned on being as wet as water while tied up, I hoped Liz wouldn't leave me frustrated in future moment of need. I felt I owed her the same in return.
I tickled her lower abs, right around her pubic bone. I was rewarded with more laughter and squirming, and no unusual protests. I pressed further, grabbing at her bound thighs and squeezing them, and again, more of the same 'green' signals encouraging me to continue. My hands dug into the tops of her thighs, where her legs meet her crotch. This is a huge tickle spot for me, and as I could have guessed, it was for Liz too. She tried to curl up, but the hogtie held in her position for me. I couldn't fail to notice the heat coming from her sex, and the crotch of her bikini appeared slightly darker than the rest.
"Mmmmm, someone is getting all hot and bothered," I taunted. When she made no objection that would lead me to believe I was crossing a line, I pushed on further. "A little bondage and tickling is all you need, hmmm?" Liz surprised me again by nodding. Jackpot. Passengers, we are clear for landing.
My nails found her nipples under the cups of her bikini top. I'm quite sure I heard a moan mix in with the incessant giggling. As hot as she looked tied up in the swimsuit, I wanted to see and feel for myself how high and hard her nipples could get. I reached behind her and pulled at the string that loosened her bikini top, and then it just took a little effort on my part to slip it out from under the chest harness and off. Again, she made no effort to stop me, and I was rewarded with the sight of two perfectly perky nipples staring back at me. I tickled them again, and she writhed as much as she giggled. "Oooh, such ticklish titties." This might have caused her to blush anew, or it might just have been her face being flush from so much forced laughter.
I slipped two fingers between her bound thighs, along the edge of her hidden sex, and she rolled her hips into me. I had pushed her into a high state of arousal with the bondage and the tickle torture, and she was needing release in the worst way. And I intended to give it to her, exactly like she wanted me to.
Tugging on the spaghetti straps on both hips, I untied her bikini bottom and pulled it out from between her legs like floss. Her mound was closely shaved but not bald, and she was so slick down there from her own juices that when I slipped my fingers back into place, they rolled over her nether lips with ease. Another loud moan told me I was on the right track here, but I wasn't quite ready to get her off just yet. My free hand found her midsection again, that hard tablet of quivering muscles that was as appealing to look at as it was to tickle, and my nails went to work again. She bucked, shrieked, and lapsed into giggles, but moans of pleasure became sprinkled in with more and more frequency. My hands worked in unison, one fingering her sex, and the other keeping her nerve endings bombarded with an endless wave of tickle torture. She couldn't take it. Though her body continued to squirm and twitch under my ruthless fingernails, the giggles subsided, replaced entirely by sounds of ecstasy mewing from behind the gag. In the span of a few minutes, I had her cumming hard against my hand. I'd never made another woman cum before, and I have to say, it was pretty awesome. She shuddered with her whole body, like electricity was running through her veins. And though her wailing sounded like agony, I knew she was orgasming with her whole being, experiencing extremes of euphoria that frankly had me more than a little jealous. I was also envious of the path of torture and pleasure she had to endure to get there, but if Liz was who I thought she was, all that would be remedied shortly.
I finally let up when she stopped gyrating against my hand. She was still as tied up as ever, still blindfolded and gagged and exposed for whatever torments I might like, but I had no desire to tease her any more. I was more than ready to reverse out roles.
She lay like a rag doll as I set about releasing her. The gag came out first, and as she worked the kink out of her jaw, she only said two things. The first was, "Thank you." And the second was, "You're so dead."
I beamed, already getting wet with anticipation. I can't remember my nipples ever being so painfully hard and needing attention. I untied her from the hogtie in record time, lazily throwing all her bondage toys back in her bag without properly winding the ropes. She lay on her back, panting, with an arm draped over her eyes, her naked chest heaving. "That was...incredible," she said. I was so pleased, I didn't know what to say to that, but I didn't have to. It was her turn to take the lead. She propped herself up on to her elbows and stared at me. "Now it's your turn."
It was nearly 7 o'clock on a Friday night, and I was expecting company. Just one person, to be exact; a co-worker by the name of Elizabeth. Both Liz and I worked as event planners for a major hotel chain, and very recently, we had discovered we might possibly share a mutual interest.
The hotel where we worked hosted many functions, from weddings to conferences to trade shows. There was a pair of enormous ballrooms that could hold hundreds of guests/customers/fans/etc, and it was our job to keep them filled as often as possible. The hotel gave us license to screen and vet those who would rent out the spaces, but in the end, a dollar is a dollar, no matter who is spending it, and it was that kind of thinking that led the fetish show to occupy Ballroom A two weekends ago.
It was Liz who had taken the booking, but I had been called in to help, as the show was on the larger side and required more coordination than Liz could handle on her own. Between the two of us, we had helped the show organizers lay out how the ballroom would be mapped out, with tables and booths logically placed, and with an area set aside for live demonstrations. Normally, we would be there on the day of major bookings to make sure the events took place as expected and the renters had everything they needed, and it was no different on that particular Saturday. It turned out the organizers of the show were on top of things, so we found ourselves with a lot of free time during the day-long event. We took advantage of this by wandering around the ballroom and checking out what the show had to offer.
I had recently just turned 30, and I guessed Liz to be about the same age or maybe a few years younger. We were casual girlfriends in the sense that we kept each other informed about the relationships in our lives, so at present, we each knew the other was currently between boyfriends, but we hadn't known each other long enough to think of each other as BFFs or anything. Still, we found themselves whispering and giggling conspiratorially as we wandered around the fetish show, both at times blushing furiously at what we saw, and at other times rendered speechless. Seeing what the world of intimacy and sex had to offer to those who think outside the box was a true eye opener for me, and I could tell it was for Liz as well.
It was the moment we found themselves standing in the back of a crowd of onlookers watching a bondage demonstration that things took a significant turn for the interesting. On the elevated stage, a man was intricately binding a bikini-clad woman with rope. Lots and lots of rope. He worked magic with that rope, winding it around her limbs and torso, and tying off parts of her to other parts of her until she was this gorgeous, helpless object, unable to move an inch. Liz hadn't been able to take her eyes off the scene, and I hadn't failed to notice.
"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" I had asked.
"It's unbelievable. Look at her! She's completely immobile," Liz had said.
"You ever do anything like that?"
Liz had blushed at this. "Once, sorta. I bought these fuzzy handcuffs once and wore them for my boyfriend, but he wasn't into it."
"No? You were hoping for something more like that?" I had asked, nodding towards the bound woman again.
Liz had shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe not quite like that. That looks a bit...intense."
"Yeah, but look at her face. She's loving it."
"I know. She was smiling the whole time he was tying her up. I mean, I guess I can understand the fascination with it, but can you imagine being like THAT?"
This time it was me who had shrugged, but I hadn't hesitated with my answer. "I think it looks like fun."
Liz had peeled her eyes off the bound woman and looked at me. "But you've never tried it."
I had smirked. "I've never trusted anyone enough to ever let them do anything like that to me. But I would, if I knew I could trust them." I had paused then, imagining myself in the place of the bound woman on the stage. "I totally would."
I think Liz had been a bit humbled and awed by my honesty. She had turned back to the bound figure as well. "Yeah. I guess I would too. Kind of hard to admit you want to be tied up, you know?"
A few seconds had ticked by before I spoke again. "We should do it. Together."
"Are you serious?"
"Totally serious. Why not? We both just said it looks like fun. We could do it at my place and no one will ever have to know." When Liz hadn't replied, I had added. "At least we'll get to find out if it's really fun or not. We might not ever otherwise."
Liz had begrudgingly agreed to that, and we had spent the rest of the fetish show on a mission. We talked to the man selling bondage ropes and each bought a set of the kind he recommended. We visited a novelty store booth and picked through the bondage-themed toys, and I purchased both a blindfold and ball gag and then tried to convince Liz to do so as well. The woman running the booth cut us a deal until Liz had no choice but to agree. We found books on bondage at another booth, and I purchased a beginners how-to book with step-by-step instructions and pictures. At the end of the show, we settled on a date to get together to try out our new toys.
In the weeks that had followed the show, we hadn't talked much about their plans. I had been studying the book and practicing the different kinds of knots and how to perform both single-column and two-column ties. As the date drew nearer, my anticipation grew and grew, but I could tell Liz was starting to have second thoughts. Over lunch the day before, I talked about how much fun we were going to have and how we would justify all that money they spent on the toys. In the end, I used guilt to convince Liz to follow through, saying that if she chickened out, she'd be denying both of us a chance to find out what it felt like.
I checked myself out in the hall mirror one last time. I'd opted for a casual, comfy look with a hoodie and sweatpants, knowing they would be easy to shed once it was time to reveal what I wore underneath. I still wasn't sure if Liz was going to show up or not, but I couldn't imagine how that would affect our personal and professional relationship if she didn't. I didn't have long to think about it though, because as the clock on the wall softly chimed out 7 o'clock, the doorbell rang.
I opened my apartment door with a flourish to find Liz standing there awkward and blushing, with an oversized bag slung over one shoulder. I tried to nix all the tension in the bud by stepping into the hallway and giving Liz an exaggerated hug. "No blushing! We are going to have fun tonight!" Liz couldn't help but giggle and did seem more at ease as she entered my home.
The living room was prepared for Liz too, with a few candles lit for scent and ambiance, and a fruit plate already waiting beside the bondage how-to book on the coffee table. The faux fireplace was lit with the fake flames giving the room a welcoming vibe. Liz plopped her bag down and sat on the couch, taking a grape. "What are you drinking?" I asked. "I have both red and white wine."
"Are you sure we should be drinking? Shouldn't we be sober for this?"
"Hell no. I want this to be fun for both of us. No way I'm not having at least a glass or two!"
Liz giggled again, an inviting sound. "Okay, I'll take a glass of white then, with an ice cube in it."
"Coming right up!"
I returned with a tray with two glasses of white wine and the bottle from which they were poured. We each took a glass and clinked them. "To new experiences," I toasted before we both had a taste of liquid courage.
We made small talk for a few minutes, discussing the traffic and weather and things that had happened that day at work, but I couldn't take my mind of what lay ahead. I refilled both our glasses as they neared empty, and Liz kept her nervous hands busy by picking at the fruit plate. Finally, I couldn't wait any more and put an end to the stalling.
I picked up the bondage book and flipped it open to a page that outlined how to tie a hogtie. Balancing the book on both our laps, I tapped the picture with one manicured nail. "This is how I think I should tie you up."
Liz's mouth popped open. I could tell the idea intrigued her, but that she felt I had breached some sort of etiquette with my suggestion. "Wait a minute...what do you mean? Why are you deciding for me how I get tied up? Don't I get to decide for myself?"
I chuckled. "Okay. So how do you want to be tied up then?" I gave a her a challenging smirk as I waited for her answer.
Liz opened her mouth to answer and she found no words coming out. That blush of embarrassment returned. "Fine! Like that I guess." Her eyes returned to the picture of the model tightly trussed in the hogtie. I could tell she was picturing herself like that. I wonder if her nippled stiffened under her top because mine sure did.
I moved the book aside and turned to face Liz. "Okay then. Let's get started."
Once again, Liz was stunned into a moment of silence. "Wait...why do I have to go first? Why don't you go first?"
I rolled my eyes at her. "Will you quit stalling? We are both going to have a turn." I stood up and moved to kneel on the throw rug in front of the fireplace. "So let's see what you've brought for me."
Liz took a steadying breath and moved to her huge bag. She reached in and pulled out a smaller bag before handing the rest to me. "Is there someplace I can change?" I pointed towards the bathroom. "You can use everything in there, " she said to me as she turned with the smaller bundle and headed into the bathroom.
I unpacked Liz's toys. I found everything Liz had bought at the fetish show, including the ball gag, which made me happy. Also in there was a pair of safety shears, which I hadn't thought of. Smart girl that Liz was.
Liz emerged from the bathroom wearing a string bikini. I had known Liz had a nice figure, but hadn't realized how toned she was. The outline of her muscles could be seen along her upper arms and especially around her core. I must have shown how impressed I was by the look on my face because Liz simply said, "I work out a lot," as if to answer.
Liz took another big sip of wine before she joined me on the rug. "Okay, I'm ready," she said. I could almost her heart pounding in her chest.
"Don't worry," I said, picking up a length of the rope. "Remember, this is about trust, right? If at any point you want me to stop, just say so." I began to work a chest harness around Liz's torso, with Liz helpfully keeping her hair up and out of the way.
"You mean, like a safe word?" I might have been practicing ties, but apparently Liz wasn't completely unfamiliar with the rules of BDSM.
"Sure, a safe word. Ummm...." I paused my work on the harness to spot the fruit plate. "If you want me to stop, just say 'grapes'." That made her chuckle.
I kept working on the harness until it was done and a neat web of ropes crossed around her upper torso and over her shoulders. There had been no embarrassing looks exchanged as I'd worked on the parts that winded the rope around and between her breasts; the time for shyness had passed. Liz shifted around a bit and grinned. "Feels tight, but good. Like I'm being hugged. You did a good job on this."
I was pleased. "It's my first one. I'm glad you like it." I grabbed more rope and had Liz kneel facing away from me. I started with her arms, bending them at the elbows until her forearms folded atop one another and then tied them together using a single-column tie. With the excess rope, I attached tied her arms off to the back of the chest harness.
I could feel Liz stiffening up as her freedom was being taken from her, so I stroked her hair in a relaxing fashion. "You doing okay? You want another sip of wine?" Liz nodded, as if she didn't trust her voice to answer, so I guided her glass to her lips and helped her take a sip. "You look amazing," I said, hoping to steel Liz's courage.
"Okay, keep going." Liz said, exhaling deeply. She was ready to take the next step. I could only imagine that her arms felt uncomfortable tied like that behind her, but I hope she didn't expect being tied up to feel comfy. She wasn't in pain, which was all I cared about. She could live with discomfort. I guided her to the floor so she was face down, as she couldn't do it safely on her own.. Already I was rendering her helpless and I'd only just begun. I once again wondered if her nipples were as hard as mine.
I used another piece of rope on Liz's ankles. This was a two-column tie, with the ropes looped around and in between her ankles. Once that tie was completed, I added another length of rope just below her knees. "Oh, I can't move at all," Liz said, giving her arms and legs a test to see if there was any wiggle room, which their wasn't.
"I'm almost done," I said, finding that my practicing was paying dividends, as my rope work was neat, and my knots were both clean and well placed. I could have left Liz like that, but it wasn't a hogtie yet. I threaded another rope through Liz's ankle ropes, getting it attached before pulling her ankles up towards her bottom. As Liz was proving to be both fit and flexible, I was able to completely fold her legs at the knees and tie the end of the rope off to the chest harness, completing the hogtie. "How's that feel?"
"Tight," Liz grunted, but she wasn't complaining. She was oddly quiet. I imagine she was getting used to the feel of being completely helpless. I could only hope she felt as thrilled about it as I did making her like that.
"Too tight?"
Liz flapped her feet and turned her head to the other side, which was about the limits of her mobility. "No, I'm good." I found my eyes drawn to her bare soles and slightly curled toes, which were decorated with a playful purple polish.
I grabbed Liz's ballgag and blindfold and scooted to where she could see them in my hands. "Ready for this part?"
Liz licked her lips. She looked nervous. "Just the blindfold. I'm not ready for that thing yet," she said. I noticed she seemed reluctant to use the word 'gag', as if that might encourage me.
I slipped the blindfold over Liz's eyes and took the time to make sure that it fit properly over her hair. I tightened it behind her head and waved my hand in front of her face. "Can you see anything?"
"Nothing," Liz said. Her voice was a bit breathy now. I took that as a good sign. I guessed she was losing herself in the moment, submitting to the fact that completely powerless now, which was the point.
"Gag time?" I asked.
She shook her head before turning it to one side and laying it on the rug. I saw her fingers curl and splay, and then her toes do the same. She was drinking in the moment. "How do I look?" she finally asked me, waving her feet back and forth again, almost as if to draw in my attention.
"Gorgeous!" I said, and I meant it. She grinned in my direction, with a hint of that blush returning to her exposed cheek. "You've got way too much movement with your feet though."
I thought I saw her smile widen a bit, but I couldn't be sure. "Give me a break. This is all I have left." She waved her feet around again, and now I was certain this is where she wanted my attention focused.
I positioned myself so that I was within easy reach of them. Pulling the hair tie from my hair, I began to loop it around her big toes, effectively tying them together.
"AAAaaggghh!" she squeaked at the touch of my hands around her toes. "What are you doing?" Though she made herself sound panicked, she made no effort to stop me from tying off her toes.
I couldn't help but giggle at her. "Taking away the rest of your freedom. Why, what's the problem?" I asked, but I suspected I was certain of the answer. There was a lengthy pause as she considered how to answer me. When she failed to speak, I put an end to her misery by vocalizing what we both were thinking. "Afraid I might tickle you?" I asked, walking two fingers down her right sole.
Liz lurched in her bondage, barking out a sharp giggle at my touch. "Don't!" she said, in full on panic mode this time. She tried to flail her feet around, but the strict hogtie and her tied toes gave her almost no room to wiggle them.
"Don't what?" I teased, giving her other sole the same two finger tickle walk treatment.
If she hadn't wanted to say the word 'gag', she really didn't want to say the word 'tickle'. "Don't do that!"
I giggled again. This was too much fun. "What am I doing?" I asked, innocent as could be. I scribbled wavy lines along the soft pad of her right foot.
Liz was finding out what it really meant to be locked in bondage. She squirmed on the rug, but it was easy enough for me to keep her where I wanted so her feet were at my disposal. Instead she flailed her head about, a grin plastered on her face, and seemingly unable to stop herself from giggling. "Please...You don't understand...It's torture...I can't stand it!"
I continued to play dumb, lightly scraping my nails over the pads of her toes. "What's torture? What can't you stand?"
Her laughter ratcheted up a notch. Clearly this was a weak spot for her. "Stop!" Her body thrashed in the hogtie, finding no relief. "Stop......tickling me!" she finally blurted out. She flapped her feet like a single flipper, but I found I could hold them in place by pressing back on her toes.
"Make me," I teased, using my free hand to really give both her soles a proper nail flickering. With her toes held back, her soles were taught and wrinkle free, and it was with no effort that my nails danced over her skin.
Liz screamed with laughter. She fought me as best she could, but she found no relief from my nails. My initial teasing tickles had gotten her going, but this direct attack had her in dire straights almost at once. She howled on the rug, laughing louder than I'd ever heard anyone laugh before, while that huge smile flashed at me from under the blindfold.
I kept my nails snaking over her soles for probably no longer than 30 seconds, but when I finally stopped, Liz was a mess. She was panting for air, with residual giggles still slipping out past that perma-smile. "You don't understand," she repeated. "I'm so ticklish." Duh, as if I hadn't just demonstrated that for myself. "This is torture."
In the back of my mind, something clicked. I wasn't tickling her at the moment, but I also hadn't announced I was done tickling her. She didn't say, "That was torture," as though it were over, but rather "This is torture," as if she was expecting more. Now the waving around of her feet earlier was starting to make more sense.
I decided to mess with her head a little. "Awww, I'm sorry. I'll stop now." Her smile slipped a bit, of that I'm sure. This wasn't the direction she was expecting. For a long moment, she couldn't think of what to say, of how to get the scene back on track, but I helped her out with that again. "Just kidding!" I blurted out, tickle attacking her soles again, this time with all 10 of my nails going to work.
Caught completely by surprise, she screamed louder than before, instantaneously kicked into thrashing mode. Her feet flapped excitedly under my nails, and I let them, allowing her the ability to struggle for relief as much as her bondage would allow while maintaining a constant tickling presence on her soles.
In addition to tickling her soles to the best of my abilities, I gave her a full dose of mental teasing as well. "Seems to me you like this kind of torture. You know you can stop me at any time by saying 'grapes', but you don't say it. I don't think you want to say it. You just want to lay there and let me keep on tickling and tickling and tickling you." I was really getting into torturing her, enjoying the rush of power that came with total control. "So, are you ready to admit you love it? C'mon, I want to hear you say you love it."
Liz could not stop laughing long enough to form sentences. The most she could muster was words of the monosyllabic kind, words like "Don't!" and "Stop!' and "No!" and "Please!". Not a single "grapes" though, I noted with some satisfaction. I started to wonder if I actually could get her to say it if I tickled her cruelly enough.
My nails moves to her toes, curling under the tips at tickling at the stems of each. I was rewarded with another window-vibrating scream and a steady stream of "Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!"s. I paused, wondering if I had done it, wondering if I had finally broken her. I leaned closer, eager to hear what she was about to say.
"Ready to admit you love it?" I taunted, my nails still resting on the pads of her toes.
She giggled and panted, seemingly dealing with an internal struggle. It took her a moment to catch her breath. When she finally responded, her words actually shocked me. "Is that the best you can do?" she challenged, the biggest smile ever stuck on her face.
"Oh, you're dead!" I renewed my attack on her toes, which she curled as a defense mechanism. This served to trap my nails against her toe stems, and all I needed to do was wiggle them slightly to effectively torture the underside of every single toe.
Liz started tapping out immediately. She lurched in the ropes, struggling like a fish out of water, all the while screaming "I give! I give!" between laughter. It eventually must have occurred to her that is not what I was pushing her to say, as the torturing of her toe stems continued on and on . With her feet pumping as far as they could with limited mobility, and her head thrown back towards the ceiling, she finally cracked. "I love it! I love it! Now staaahaaahaaap!"
"Don't care anymore. You had your chance." She wailed at my words as my nails continued their assault under and in between her toes. Her screeching was so loud, it was almost painful to my ears. "You want me to stop?" She nodded and screamed in answer. "Okay, I'll stop," I said, not stopping. "But if I do, you wear the gag. Deal?" She didn't even argue this time, instead nodding and shouting "Okay!"
I gave her ticklish feet a break. Personally, I've always enjoyed being tickled, but I had never really tickled anyone like this before, and now that I had, it was easy for me to see the attraction. All it took was a steady flickering of my nails over her skin to have her a ticklish, sweaty mess. It was hard to stop tickling her, actually, knowing that I didn't really have to if I didn't want to.
I positioned the rubber ball in front of her lips. "Open up," I said. She was still panting and grinning from ear to ear, but all that tickling must have seriously wiped away her earlier fears. Without a word, she opened her mouth and allowed me to push the ball back behind her teeth. A few moments later, it was fastened behind her head, tucked neatly under her hair. She was drooling around it before I was even finished securing it.
"Mmmpphh mmghm mmnmphmnnng," she mumbled, completely unintelligible behind the gag. I grinned. She could try to say "grapes" now and I'd never know it. Her ability to utter a safe word was gone.
Without a word, I moved to her side and gave her ribs a tickle on both sides. With her arms crossed behind her back, her sides were undefended. Unlike my own midsection, which was soft where you'd expect a woman to be soft, her sides were rock hard with taut muscle. All that muscle didn't stop her from being ultra ticklish though, as she once again bucked in the hogtie and attempted to wiggle away from me. The sounds of laughter she screamed from behind the gag were much quieter now, and all her words of protest were completely impossible to make out. I think she realized this because she stopped begging me to stop with her gibberish words and resigned herself to tortured laughter.
Her ribs proved a great launching point to her upper body. I couldn't really get at her underarms, but her hips were prime targets, and I goosed them without mercy. Most of her lower back was exposed, and this turned out to be a hotbed of ticklish nerve endings as well. I know I how ticklish I am from head to toe, and in this Liz and I appeared to share another characteristic. One place I've never been tickled is my ass, and I guess Liz never had been either, because when my nails danced over her cheeks, she bounced in surprise and agony.
I taunted her all the while too. "Aww, such ticklish ribs. So ticklish for someone so strong." "Are your hips ticklish? Let me just find out. Oh look, they are!" "Who has a ticklish bum? Whoooo has a ticklish bum??" I can't remember ever having more fun in my life than I was in those moments tickle torturing Liz, and part of me wondered if what made it so fun was knowing Liz would soon be getting a turn at having me tied up too.
I'm pretty sure she never tried to say "grapes". As I tickled her without mercy, I became more convinced than ever that when Liz agreed to explore bondage with me, her being tortured with tickles is exactly what she hoped would happen. I finished teasing her bum and took another crack at her feet, which had had plenty of time for the nerve endings to recharge their ticklishness. She was in such a state of delirious laughter that no matter where my nails danced over her feet, from her heels to the tops to the tips of her toes, she reacted like that was her most ticklish spot. She truly was an adorable tickle victim!
I was eager to get a crack at her front. With some effort, I rolled her onto one hip. She didn't even try to fight me. This left her heaving belly with the toned abs fully exposed for my wicked nails, and I did not disappoint her by ignoring it. I couldn't help but notice that her nipples were in fact rock hard under her bikini, much like my own. It made me wonder how far I should take the game. She drooled freely from behind the gag, with her muffled guffaws seemingly never ending, but it was clear to me this form of treatment was turning her on. Based on what I had planned for when it was my turn, during which I planned on being as wet as water while tied up, I hoped Liz wouldn't leave me frustrated in future moment of need. I felt I owed her the same in return.
I tickled her lower abs, right around her pubic bone. I was rewarded with more laughter and squirming, and no unusual protests. I pressed further, grabbing at her bound thighs and squeezing them, and again, more of the same 'green' signals encouraging me to continue. My hands dug into the tops of her thighs, where her legs meet her crotch. This is a huge tickle spot for me, and as I could have guessed, it was for Liz too. She tried to curl up, but the hogtie held in her position for me. I couldn't fail to notice the heat coming from her sex, and the crotch of her bikini appeared slightly darker than the rest.
"Mmmmm, someone is getting all hot and bothered," I taunted. When she made no objection that would lead me to believe I was crossing a line, I pushed on further. "A little bondage and tickling is all you need, hmmm?" Liz surprised me again by nodding. Jackpot. Passengers, we are clear for landing.
My nails found her nipples under the cups of her bikini top. I'm quite sure I heard a moan mix in with the incessant giggling. As hot as she looked tied up in the swimsuit, I wanted to see and feel for myself how high and hard her nipples could get. I reached behind her and pulled at the string that loosened her bikini top, and then it just took a little effort on my part to slip it out from under the chest harness and off. Again, she made no effort to stop me, and I was rewarded with the sight of two perfectly perky nipples staring back at me. I tickled them again, and she writhed as much as she giggled. "Oooh, such ticklish titties." This might have caused her to blush anew, or it might just have been her face being flush from so much forced laughter.
I slipped two fingers between her bound thighs, along the edge of her hidden sex, and she rolled her hips into me. I had pushed her into a high state of arousal with the bondage and the tickle torture, and she was needing release in the worst way. And I intended to give it to her, exactly like she wanted me to.
Tugging on the spaghetti straps on both hips, I untied her bikini bottom and pulled it out from between her legs like floss. Her mound was closely shaved but not bald, and she was so slick down there from her own juices that when I slipped my fingers back into place, they rolled over her nether lips with ease. Another loud moan told me I was on the right track here, but I wasn't quite ready to get her off just yet. My free hand found her midsection again, that hard tablet of quivering muscles that was as appealing to look at as it was to tickle, and my nails went to work again. She bucked, shrieked, and lapsed into giggles, but moans of pleasure became sprinkled in with more and more frequency. My hands worked in unison, one fingering her sex, and the other keeping her nerve endings bombarded with an endless wave of tickle torture. She couldn't take it. Though her body continued to squirm and twitch under my ruthless fingernails, the giggles subsided, replaced entirely by sounds of ecstasy mewing from behind the gag. In the span of a few minutes, I had her cumming hard against my hand. I'd never made another woman cum before, and I have to say, it was pretty awesome. She shuddered with her whole body, like electricity was running through her veins. And though her wailing sounded like agony, I knew she was orgasming with her whole being, experiencing extremes of euphoria that frankly had me more than a little jealous. I was also envious of the path of torture and pleasure she had to endure to get there, but if Liz was who I thought she was, all that would be remedied shortly.
I finally let up when she stopped gyrating against my hand. She was still as tied up as ever, still blindfolded and gagged and exposed for whatever torments I might like, but I had no desire to tease her any more. I was more than ready to reverse out roles.
She lay like a rag doll as I set about releasing her. The gag came out first, and as she worked the kink out of her jaw, she only said two things. The first was, "Thank you." And the second was, "You're so dead."
I beamed, already getting wet with anticipation. I can't remember my nipples ever being so painfully hard and needing attention. I untied her from the hogtie in record time, lazily throwing all her bondage toys back in her bag without properly winding the ropes. She lay on her back, panting, with an arm draped over her eyes, her naked chest heaving. "That was...incredible," she said. I was so pleased, I didn't know what to say to that, but I didn't have to. It was her turn to take the lead. She propped herself up on to her elbows and stared at me. "Now it's your turn."
