Just Another Day at the Office M|F -PART EIGHTEEN ADDED-

[Ropelover28nj]

Looks like they have alot of fun together, id love to hear that Brooke's thong is peeled off of her and shoved in mouth and tapped in as an idea for a gag

[TomYi]

Another sexy addition! So far as suggestions, I would recommend that you just stick with writing whatever you want to experience yourself. That's what won your audience over in the first place, and it ought to keep working now

[tieduptee]

[mention]Ropelover28nj[/mention] Ah well you never know! Might make an appearance in the next few parts!

[mention]TomYi[/mention] Thank you so much for your kind words, it means the world! So happy to know this story is one that you enjoy so much!

[DioA]

I’d be willing to put in more time at the office if I had a coworker like Brooke. The extra time probably wouldn’t matter, we wouldn’t get anything productive done.

[tieduptee]

[mention]DioA[/mention] That is a very good point! Seems somewhat counterintuitive huh?

[tickletied84]

Well, another great update [mention]tieduptee[/mention] - poor Brooke really can't get a break can she!

Given Nick is supposed to be a gentleman, then I'd hope that he treats her to a nice meal out at a posh restaurant, maybe with some hidden toys/bondage to keep her entertained?

And if she's staying all weekend, then she'd need to be kept 'comfortable' overnight - maybe a mummification...?

[Tieup1]

I think this is a great story. When Nick is around, poor Brooke goes to pieces. She is besotted with him, he knows how to turn her on, he likes to be in control. I'd like Brooke to have more input, (no pun intended) , she should have a say in this relationship.

[tieduptee]

Omg hi everyone! I know it’s been so long since I was on here let alone WRITING - but i’ve always wanted to come back to this and hopefully finish it one day! Let’s hope i can still do it justice, right?

PART FIFTEEN

A wave of frustration crashes over me as his words sink in. Not until he says? How does he expect me to hold back when I’m already teetering on the edge, desperately chasing that release I’ve been denied for what feels like forever?
I whimper again, shaking my head as if I could somehow convince him to change his mind. But Nick’s resolve is unyielding; it’s part of what makes him so damn irresistible. He knows exactly how to push my buttons, how to draw out every ounce of desire until I’m nothing but a trembling mess at his feet.

The vibrations from the wand are relentless, and the pressure inside me builds to an almost unbearable level. Each time I get close to tipping over, I have to force myself to pull back, to cling to the tattered remnants of my self-control. My hips buck wildly, trying to match the rhythm that will send me over the edge, but Nick’s hands keep me just restrained enough that I can’t quite get there.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs in my ear, his voice low and velvety. “You’re doing so well, Brooke. Just a little longer.”
I don’t know if I can last a little longer. Every fiber of my being is focused on that impending climax, and it’s taking everything I have not to scream out in frustration. My wrists strain against the ropes, the soft fibers digging into my skin as I pull and twist, trying to find some form of release, any kind of control over my own body.

Nick’s fingers brush over the clamps on my nipples again, sending a shockwave of sensation straight to my core. I gasp around the gag, arching my back as a fresh surge of arousal floods my system. The pain is sharp, but it only fuels the fire inside me, mixing with the overwhelming pleasure until I’m on the verge of losing myself completely.

He seems to sense how close I am to breaking, because his touch grows gentler, almost soothing. His hands glide down my sides, tracing the curves of my body as if he’s memorizing every inch of me. He takes his time, exploring every sensitive spot, driving me wild with anticipation. And all the while, that damn vibrator keeps humming away, keeping me just shy of the release I crave.

“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?” Nick murmurs, his breath hot against my neck. “So desperate, so needy. Just for me.”

I shiver, his words sending a delicious thrill down my spine. My mind is a haze of lust and longing, barely able to process anything beyond the overwhelming need to finally, finally, come. But Nick isn’t done with me yet.

He shifts his position behind me, and I feel his lips brush against my shoulder, planting soft kisses along my skin. His mouth travels up to my neck, and then he’s biting down gently, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through me. I cry out, the sound muffled by the gag, and feel another wave of wetness pool between my legs.

“Remember, Brooke,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise, “I’m the one who decides when you get off.”

And then he reaches for the vibrator, increasing the intensity even further.
Oh god, I don’t know if I can take this. I’m trembling now, my body shaking uncontrollably as I fight to hold back the climax that’s so close I can almost taste it. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every thought, every breath, until I’m nothing but raw, burning need.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” I moan into the gag, the sound desperate and muffled as drool spills from my mouth. My moans grow louder with every thrust of my hips, each one carrying the frustration of being so close, yet so far from the release I crave. The gag muffles my cries, reducing them to incoherent sounds that only make me feel more helpless, more at Nick’s mercy.

The words are garbled, barely intelligible through the gag, but I know he understands. I can feel his smile against my skin, a satisfied, knowing curve of his lips.

The sensation is overwhelming—between the gag in my mouth, the tightness of the ropes, and the constant thrum of the vibrator, I’m lost in a haze of need. My body is on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but I’m trapped, unable to do anything but squirm and moan like a helpless plaything.
Nick’s hands move over me, a calming contrast to the chaos raging inside my body. His fingers press into the muscles of my thighs, squeezing and massaging, before trailing back up to my chest. My nipples, already throbbing from the clamps, are now hypersensitive, and when he rolls them between his fingers, I’m on the brink of tears from the intensity. I buck wildly in response, my hips jerking as I let out a series of muffled moans, pleading for relief I can’t even articulate.

“Mmmph! Mmmph!” I cry out again, the gag stifling my voice as I struggle harder against the ropes. My wrists twist, fingers flexing in a futile attempt to find some slack, anything that might give me the upper hand, but it’s no use. I’m bound tight, every move I make only tightening the ropes’ grip on me.


Nick’s breath is hot against my neck, his voice a low growl as he teases me with his words. “Look at you, Brooke. Struggling so hard, moaning so desperately. It’s exactly where you belong.”

I shudder at his words, my body responding even more intensely. I’m a mess of conflicting sensations—helplessness, arousal, frustration. The harder I struggle, the more I moan into the gag, the more Nick seems to enjoy it. I can feel his eyes on me, watching every move I make, listening to every muffled cry.

He leans down, his breath tickling my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You don’t get to cum yet,” he whispers, and it’s as if his words flip a switch inside me.
I thrash harder, my hips bucking uncontrollably, my moans turning into near screams of frustration. “Mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmph!” The sounds are pitiful, desperate, and I know he can hear just how badly I need this. But the more I plead, the tighter his grip on my control becomes.

“Patience, Brooke,” Nick murmurs, his hand still on my breast, his other sliding down to adjust the vibrator. He presses it harder against me, the intensity of the vibrations skyrocketing. I’m thrusting against it wildly, my moans turning to guttural groans as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.
I can barely hold back the orgasm that’s clawing its way to the surface.

My body is trembling, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps, each one punctuated by a desperate whimper into the gag. The ropes creak under the strain of my struggles, but they hold fast, keeping me bound and helpless, right where Nick wants me.

My world narrows to the relentless buzzing between my legs, the tightness of the ropes, and the heat of Nick’s breath on my skin. My moans are louder now, more desperate, a constant stream of muffled pleas that only seem to encourage him. His hands roam over my body, his touch both soothing and infuriatingly slow, as if he’s savoring every moment of my torment.

And then, just when I think I can’t take any more, he relents. “I think you’ve earned it, Princess,” he finally says, and those words are like the sweetest release.

I let go. The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, dragging me under with its sheer force. My body convulses, every muscle tensing as the pleasure explodes within me, obliterating everything else. I’m vaguely aware of my own voice, screaming into the gag as the intensity of it all rips through me, wave after wave, until I’m left trembling and spent, sagging against the ottoman.

Nick’s hands are still on me, grounding me, his touch a soothing balm after the storm. He eases the vibrator away, letting me come down from the high, and then he’s gently removing the clamps from my nipples, the sharp sting a reminder of the exquisite torture I’ve just endured.

“Good girl,” he murmurs again, his voice full of warmth and approval. “You did so well, Brooke.”

I can’t even form words to respond. My mind is still floating in the aftermath, my body heavy and limp, but there’s a deep sense of satisfaction settling in my bones. Nick carefully undoes the ropes binding me, massaging the circulation back into my wrists and ankles, his touch tender and caring now.

Finally, he removes the gag, and I gasp for air, my jaw aching from the strain. He brushes the hair away from my face, planting a soft kiss on my forehead before pulling me into his arms.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, holding me close, and in that moment, I feel it too. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, with him, exactly like this.


Hope you guys enjoyed this update and I’m not too rusty, hoping to get some more parts of this out more consistently, let me know what you think!!


Til next time,

Tee x

[Caesar73]

First? Welcome back. Second? You have not lost your Touch in the slightest in case you worried. That is not the Case. Third? This new Chapter is so intense. Do carry on.

[tieduptee]

Aw thank you!! I really appreciate that, it’s been a while so I wasn’t sure how this would’ve turned out! Hopefully can get the next chapter up soon

[Caesar73]

Aw thank you!! I really appreciate that, it’s been a while so I wasn’t sure how this would’ve turned out! Hopefully can get the next chapter up soon

I guess anyone who writes understands your doubts. But in the End it played out very well. And I am looking forward to Chapter 16!

[tickletied84]

“Patience Brooke”…

Well, we were well rewarded, as was Brooke. Welcome back!

A great update. Hope you are well!

[tieduptee]

Guess who is making another appearance for the first time in forever

Dropping you all a well deserved chapter after another long hiatus - maybe I need to be bound myself and forced to finish this story haha!

Enjoy!

————-

PART SIXTEEN

The Morning After…


Warmth.

That’s the first thing I feel as I start to wake up. Not the sheets or the faint morning light, but him. Nick. His body pressed to mine, skin on skin, heat and breath and the soft brush of his stubble against the back of my neck.

His arm is draped across my waist, anchoring me to him like he thinks I might disappear. Our legs are tangled beneath the covers, his thigh slotted between mine, and I can’t help but smile a little to myself. He sleeps like he ties knots—possessive, secure, no room for escape.

I shift slightly, stretching just enough to ease the stiffness in my limbs. His hand tightens around my waist in response.

“You trying to sneak away?” he mumbles, his voice low and sleep-rough.

“No,” I whisper, the smile still tugging at my lips. “Just trying not to lose circulation.”

He huffs a lazy laugh and nuzzles his face into my shoulder. “I could tie you up again if that helps.”

“God, you never stop, do you?”

“Not when I’ve got you wrapped up in my sheets like this,” he murmurs. “You look good here.”

I roll over slowly, careful not to dislodge his arm, until I’m facing him. His hair’s a mess, his eyes half-lidded, and there’s something different in his face—softer, warmer.

“I still can’t believe you stuffed me in your trunk.”

“You let me stuff you in my trunk,” he corrects, lifting a brow. “Big difference.”

“I must’ve been out of my mind.”

“You were begging for that vibrator to stay on. Pretty sure sanity left the building long before we got to the parking lot.”

I flush, biting down a laugh. “Okay, okay, we don’t have to recap every part of it.”

His hand slides up, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “You sure? I could go into detail. You made some really pretty noises.”

“Nick.”

He gives me that smirk—cocky and smooth—but then it softens as he studies me. Really studies me.

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. “After all of that.”

The teasing falls away. I blink, caught off guard by the question. “Honestly?” I hesitate, chewing my bottom lip. “I feel… good. Like, way better than I thought I would. I thought I’d wake up embarrassed or second-guessing everything, but… I’m not.”

His hand rests on my waist again, thumb brushing slow circles into my skin. “Because you trust me?”

I nod. “Yeah. I didn’t think I would, not like this. Not so soon.”

There’s a pause. Something unspoken flickers in his eyes.

“I don’t do this with just anyone, Brooke.” His voice is low, steady. “What we did last night—that wasn’t casual for me. And it wasn’t just about tying you up. You know that, right?”

My breath catches a little. “I had a feeling.”

“I want more of this with you,” he says, gaze locked on mine. “Not just the sex. Not just the rope. All of it. I want you. In my bed. In my life. Wherever this goes, I’m in. And I need to know if you are too.”

I stare at him for a long second, heart pounding.

And then I lean forward, brushing my lips against his. Just once. Slow and soft.

“I’m in,” I whisper. “But I can’t promise I won’t mess with you a little.”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” he murmurs against my mouth. “But just know, if you push me…”

“I’m not scared of you, Nick.”

His grin returns, sharper this time. “You should be.”

I laugh, curling back against his chest, letting his arm wrap around me again. For a moment, there’s just warmth, breathing, skin.

But later?

Later, I think I might push him—just to see what happens.


——-

Hope you’ll all enjoy this one - let’s see how feisty Brooke gets, and how far Nick lets her push before he remedies her attitude!

Till next time!

[wolfman]

Welcome back!!!!!

Thank you for anothrr wonderful entry into this romance for the ages.

I hope we don't have to wait as long for more.

[tickletied84]

Welcome back!

A very teasing update - promising us more

[tieduptee]

Who would’ve thought… she’s back with ANOTHER one?!

Don’t say I’m not nice to you guys - hoping to keep up momentum hehe!

Enjoy…

————

PART SEVENTEEN



After we finally dragged ourselves out of bed—reluctantly, and with far too many kisses—I had a long shower, wrapped myself in one of Nick’s plush towels, and wandered into his bedroom closet to find something to wear.

Of course, he’d already taken the liberty of tossing my clothes from the night before somewhere I couldn’t find them. Which meant I was stuck digging through his wardrobe until I found something oversized and soft enough to make me feel like I wasn’t still walking around naked.

I ended up in one of his button-down shirts—crisp, white, and way too big on me. The hem brushed the tops of my thighs. The sleeves had to be rolled, and the open collar gave just the right peek of skin. I didn’t bother with anything else.

I could feel the shift in the air before I even said a word.

Nick had gone quiet, absorbed in something on his phone, sitting on the edge of the bed with that focused tension in his shoulders that meant don’t bother me right now. So of course, I bothered him.

I padded into the bedroom once more, exiting the closet, wearing nothing but his shirt again—unbuttoned this time. Just enough to get his attention. I was already grinning before I even reached him.

“You know,” I said casually, circling behind him and brushing my fingers down the back of his neck, “you’ve had me tied up, gagged, teased, stuffed in your trunk, and spanked in public—and I still haven’t gotten my revenge.”

He didn’t look up. “I don’t recall you needing revenge. You came like a needy little mess all over my vibrator. Twice.”

I hummed. “True. But I think I’ve been far too well-behaved lately.”

That got his attention.

Nick looked up at me slowly, his eyes dragging over my body like he already knew where this was going. And still—I pushed further.

I leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of his jaw. “What if today, I don’t listen? What if I say no? What if I bite?” I nipped his neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of my hair, and pulled my head back just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes were darker now. And still calm. Too calm.

“Are you trying to be a brat, Brooke?” he asked, voice like a warning.

I grinned. “Is it working?”

That was the last thread.

The moment his grip tightened, I knew I’d done it. He stood, towering over me, all slow, deliberate movements. His jaw was set, lips parted slightly like he was already imagining exactly how he was going to shut me up.

“You want punishment?” he asked, stepping closer until I was forced to backpedal. “You want to act out?”

My breath hitched, heart pounding with delicious anticipation. “Maybe I do.”

Nick then grabbed me. One hand around my wrist, the other gripping my hip, spinning me around and marching me toward the bed with terrifying ease.

“Oh, little doe…” he murmured darkly, “you’ve just signed yourself up for a very long day.”

The next few minutes blurred. My shirt was ripped from my body—literally torn, seams straining as he yanked it down my arms. His hands moved with purpose, cold rope suddenly in his grip like it had been waiting all along.

He didn’t speak. He didn’t smile. Not like before. This wasn’t teasing.

This was punishment.

He tied my arms behind my back first—elbows nearly touching, wrists cinched tight, the rope biting into my skin in the most exhilarating way. Then more rope—around my chest, above and below my breasts, framing them, lifting them, squeezing until I gasped.

“You wanted to test me?” he growled, pulling the rope tighter. “Let’s see how far you want to go.”

I couldn’t answer—not that I was given the chance. A strip of thick, knotted fabric was shoved between my lips, gagging me with a practiced tug. He tied it off at the back of my head, pulled my hair through it, and gave a sharp yank, forcing my head up.

“Mmmph,” I whimpered, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” he whispered.

He wasn’t done.

He pushed me down onto the bed face-first, then began working on my legs—ankles together, knees bent up to meet my bound wrists behind my back. A full hogtie—tight, merciless, deliberate. My body bowed, chest pressed into the mattress, completely immobilized.

The pressure. The heat. The helplessness.

It hit me all at once.

This wasn’t playful anymore. It was deeper. Heavier.

Nick knelt beside me, his hand stroking my back, his touch now suddenly gentle. Grounding.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “That’s it. That’s where I want you. Right here. Completely mine.”

I moaned into the gag, high and soft, my breath coming in fast waves. The ropes creaked with every twitch of my body. My skin was burning, tingling, every nerve hyperaware.

I was floating. Held together only by his voice, his touch, and the ropes.

“You thought you were clever,” he said, stroking my cheek. “Thought you could push me and not face the consequences?”

I nodded—barely. My body trembled.

Nick leaned down, pressing a kiss just beneath my ear. “Now you’ll stay like this until I say otherwise. Maybe I’ll edge you. Maybe I’ll leave you here and watch. Either way… you don’t get to decide anymore.”

My moan was half-desperate, half-blissful. I didn’t want to decide. I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want anything except this—him, the ropes, the heat coiling in my belly, the beautiful ache of surrender.

He made me need this.

And he knew it.


————
Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think and hopefully can get another update out soon!

Till next time! x

[tickletied84]

Two updates in a week!? From @tieduptee ?!

A very pleasing sight. Excellent update - now will Brooke be left to regret this decision to be bratty?

[tieduptee]

@tickletied84 I know - seems I’ve got a little bit of mojo back! Think it’s time Brooke and Nick made a more continuous appearance on here again

[tieduptee]

PART EIGHTEEN


There was no movement. No escape.

Every shallow breath made the ropes shift just slightly across my skin. Every twitch pulled another knot tighter.

Nick knelt beside me and stroked a hand along my thigh, deceptively tender. “You don’t get to squirm anymore, princesa,” he murmured. “You don’t get to tease. You asked for punishment—this is what that looks like.”

I moaned softly into the gag, my body already aching in the best way.

But he wasn’t done.

I felt it the moment his fingers began threading a new rope between my thighs—pressing in under me, grazing sensitive skin. I jerked instinctively, but the hogtie held me fast. Nick worked slowly, deliberately, feeding the rope between my folds, anchoring it in place with two more knots at my inner thighs. Then he pulled—tight.

A sharp, involuntary whine escaped me.

The crotch rope dug in, firm and unforgiving, resting right against my clit. The slightest movement sent a wave of friction through me. And Nick had positioned it perfectly so that the rope would respond to my struggle—every tug of my arms, every breath, every desperate shift only made it worse. Or better.

Depending on how you looked at it.

“Ah ah,” he warned as I writhed. “You grind, you suffer. You don’t get to choose release. Not today.”

My fingers curled involuntarily behind my back. My entire body trembled. It was too much—pressure, friction, the maddening stillness of the gag stretched tight in my mouth.

And Nick just watched.

Watched me buck. Watched me melt. Watched me give up—inch by inch—as the rope dragged me deeper into the heat rising low in my belly.

“That’s it,” he murmured, brushing the hair from my face. “Let it take you.”

I let out a broken sound—high, helpless.

“You don’t speak,” he continued, voice like velvet laced with command. “You don’t move unless I allow it. You’ll stay just like this, tied up and aching, until I decide you’ve learned your lesson.”

I could only moan.

There was no space left for pride. No thought beyond the burn in my thighs and the throb between my legs. The rope had me. Nick had me.

And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.


Time dragged.

The ache was everywhere—my shoulders, my thighs, the knot between my legs that pulsed with every shallow breath I took. The ropes held me in a perfect arch, spine curved, legs folded, my body offered up to a man who’d left the room like I was nothing more than an afterthought.

And the worst part?

I wanted him.

God, I wanted him so badly I could’ve screamed.

The frustration was building in me like a storm. I tugged against the rope again—pointless, painful, satisfying. The knot against my clit pressed deeper, rubbed cruelly, sent a jolt of white-hot pleasure up my spine. But there was no release. No climax. No relief.

Just the burn.

He’d bound me tight, gagged me, used me—and then walked away.

My skin was flushed. My hair was damp with sweat. My body trembled in its bonds, straining, twitching, grinding against the rough pressure between my thighs. But it wasn’t enough.

He’d left me here.

He’d left me.

I twisted, groaned, whimpered into the gag, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I was floating—but I was also furious.

I needed him to see me like this. Not just because he’d done it—but because I wanted more.

If you’re going to tie me up, I thought bitterly, at least fucking do something about it.

The door creaked open.

I froze.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Nick.

He stood at the foot of the bed, quiet, watching me. I could feel his eyes on me like a brand—taking in the arch of my body, the flushed skin, the slick sheen between my thighs. I lifted my head as far as I could, the gag forcing my jaw open, but I glared at him all the same.

He moved closer. Still silent. Still calm.

Then he knelt beside the bed and untied the gag with excruciating slowness, letting it fall from my mouth. My jaw throbbed as I licked my lips, breath coming fast.

“Well?” I rasped, hoarse and trembling, but still defiant. “If you’re going to tie me up like this… you could at least give me something to fucking enjoy.”

That got him.

His eyes flashed with something dangerous. Not anger—no. Something darker. Something proud.

“You’re still fighting me?” he said softly, almost like he was in awe. “Even now?”

I gave him a breathless little smile, defiant through the trembling. “You like it.”

“I do,” he said, brushing a hand over my hip. “But I like breaking it down even more.”

His fingers slipped beneath the rope that split my folds, tugging—once—just enough to make me whimper. Then again, slower, letting the friction drag across my soaked clit until I was gasping into the mattress.

“You want something to enjoy?” he murmured, sliding two fingers up my inner thigh. “You’ll beg for it.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “But first—I’m going to check every part of you. Every knot. Every bruise. Because even when you’re gagged and pissed off and grinding into my rope like a bitch in heat, you’re mine to take care of.”

His hands began moving slowly, tracing each line of rope down my back, testing the tension, adjusting knots that had tightened as I struggled. Each touch sent sparks through my skin—too much and not enough all at once.

“You’ve been fighting it,” he whispered, dragging his palm up my spine. “But I see it now. You want this. You want to let go. You just don’t know how to ask.”

I let out a shaky exhale, my forehead pressing to the mattress. The truth of his words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

“You’ll get what you’re begging for,” he promised, mouth brushing against my temple. “But not because you’re defiant. Because you’re mine. And I take care of what belongs to me.”

My whole body trembled.

The frustration was still there—burning, raw—but underneath it now was something deeper. The overwhelming rightness of it all. The way he handled me. Held me. The way he knew me.

And suddenly, I wasn’t angry anymore.

I was ready to fall.