Cougar on the prowl (F/F)

[Janbound]

My alter ego is on the prowl for fun. Does she get more than she bargained for?

You know the type. Women nearly 50 dressing like 20 year olds, tight tops, shorter skirts, high heels, sheer tights, sometimes stocking tops on display, or worse still bare legs. Jan was one of them, but she was different. Not slimmer, far from it , curvy to the extreme, but confident, she didn’t think she still had it, she knew she did. She got looks, leering from men, disapproving from most women, jealous from some, but there were some. Some that gave her that look, almost like a man. Actually nothing like a man. The look only a woman could give another woman. Like that cute little red head. Leggings showing off calves and ankles, converse with no visible socks, baggy white top. Amy was her name. A casual greeting broke the ice then the words flowed. She was unattached, adventurous, and best of all had nothing on this-evening.

Premier Inn checks in from 2pm, and if you get Lucky, checks out at noon. As the busty blonde and the petite redhead tumbled and struggled naked on the bed, Jan pinning Amy down by her wrists, her huge boobs rubbing the tiny poached eggs, she asked the question. “Have you ever tied anyone up before?”

Amy laughed, her freckles dancing. “Only my shoelaces.” She bucked beneath Jan’s weight, futilely. “Why? You wanna teach me?”

Jan released one wrist. Her thumb traced Amy’s collarbone. “Maybe.” She hooped off the bed, going yo her bag and pulling out silk scarves—deep crimson, ropes -hempsnd white nylon, cuffs - leather snd steel, gags -pannel amd ball, duct tape -various colours, and blindfolds -latex , leather and silk.

Sittling on the edge of the bed, holding her hands behind her back she giggled as she spoke the her little ginger new best friend: “ Go on. Tie me up.”

Amy hesitated, fingers brushing the crimson silk scarf. "Is this... safe?" Her voice was small, a contrast to her earlier bravado. Jan leaned close, her breath warm against Amy's ear. "Safe as houses, darling. I’ll do my feet then you can do the rest. Start with my wrists—crossed, nice and snug." She started to tie her own ankles together, crossed, demonstrating security, safety, cimfirt and knot dkills. She guided Amy's trembling hands, the ropes sliding rough and secure against her skin. Amy pulled the knot tight, her knuckles whitening.

"Like that?"

Jan tested the restraint, a slow smile spreading. "Perfect. Now tie my hands behind my back and make me helpless.”

Amy’s fingers fumbled with the hemp rope, her knuckles brushing the small of Jan’s back. She wrapped it twice around the wrists Jan had already secured, pulling each loop taut until the flesh dimpled slightly. A soft gasp escaped Jan as Amy cinched the final knot. “Too much?” Amy whispered. Jan shook her head, her voice thick. “Just right. Now the blindfold.”

Amy picked the black silk blindfold from the pile. She hesitated, then smoothed it over Jan’s eyes, tying it securely at the back. Darkness swallowed Jan’s world. Her breathing deepened, audible now against the quiet hum of the hotel AC. Amy traced a fingertip down Jan’s spine, making her shiver. “Helpless enough?” Amy asked, a playful tremor in her voice. Jan arched her back slightly. “Almost. Find the ball gag.”

Fumbling through the scattered restraints, Amy’s hand closed around the cool, dense silicone sphere. She held it up, its harness dangling. “Open,” she commanded softly. Jan obeyed, lips parting. Amy slid the ball between her teeth, buckling the straps behind her head. A muffled groan escaped Jan, part protest, part pleasure. Amy leaned close, her lips brushing Jan’s ear. “Can’t talk your way out now, can you?” She nipped Jan’s earlobe gently.

Jan strained against her bonds—ankles crossed and lashed tight, wrists cinched behind her back. The ropes bit deliciously into her skin with each futile twist. She tested Amy’s knots: firm, unyielding. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple. The blindfold amplified every sound: Amy’s soft footsteps circling the bed, the rustle of fabric, her own heartbeat thudding in her ears. She inhaled sharply—Amy’s scent, citrus and warm skin, suddenly overwhelming.

Amy paused beside the nightstand. Her fingers hovered over the leather cuffs, then skipped to the duct tape. She tore a strip with a sharp *rrrip* that made Jan flinch. "You're wriggling too much," Amy murmured, her voice low and unfamiliar. She pressed the tape firmly over Jan’s mouth, sealing the ball gag beneath. A muffled protest died in Jan’s throat. Amy smoothed the tape with her thumb, lingering on the curve of Jan’s jaw. "Better."

The mattress dipped as Amy climbed onto the bed, straddling Jan’s bound legs. Jan felt the cool slide of silk—A scarf?—wrap around her upper arms, pinning them tighter against her back. Each knot pulled Jan deeper into helplessness, a precipice she’d craved but now felt terrifyingly close. Amy leaned forward, her breath hot against Jan’s neck. "You wanted helpless," she whispered. "Now you are." Her teeth grazed Jan’s shoulder, not playful now. Possessive.

Jan’s breath hitched behind the gag as Amy grabbed her ankles—still crossed and tied—and hauled them upward. The sudden arch strained Jan’s spine, forcing her hips off the mattress. She whimpered, the sound muffled by layers of tape and silicone. Amy ignored it. With practiced efficiency, she looped thick hemp rope around Jan’s wrists and ankles, cinching them together behind her back. The position folded Jan like a bow, her body taut and trembling. Every muscle screamed protest. Amy’s knuckles brushed Jan’s inner thigh as she secured the final knot—a cruel intimacy that made Jan flinch.

The hogtie rendered zJan completely helpless and bizarrely firced her thighs apart leaving her fully exposed, defenceless and vulnerable. Just how she yearned to spend every waking moment.

Amy circled the bed slowly, her bare footsteps deliberate yet silent. She paused near Jan's head, tracing the edge of the duct tape with a fingernail. "Comfortable?" she asked, her tone devoid of its earlier playfulness. Jan tried to nod, the movement restricted by the ropes pulling her limbs taut. A muffled affirmative sound escaped her gagged mouth. Amy chuckled, low and dark. "Good. Because we're just getting started." Her hand drifted downward, fingertips skating lightly over Jan's ribs, making her flinch. "You taught me well. Knots are solid. Escape's impossible." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper near Jan's ear. "Now tell me... who taught *you*?"

The question hung in the air, thick as the hotel room's recycled coolness. Jan froze, the ropes biting deeper as her muscles tensed. Amy's fingers weren't idle; they explored the ropework binding Jan's wrists to her ankles, testing each knot with clinical precision. She found the small, intricate knot securing the hogtie behind Jan's spine. "This one's clever," Amy murmured, her thumb pressing hard against the sensitive flesh beneath it. Jan gasped behind the gag, arching involuntarily against the pressure. "Tied by an expert." Amy's voice hardened. "Someone who knows exactly how to make it bite... and hold."

Amy shifted, her weight settling heavily across Jan's lower back. The pressure forced Jan's face deeper into the scratchy hotel duvet, muffling her breathing. One hand slid possessively up Jan's exposed flank, fingers tracing the curve of her hipbone. "You liked teaching me," Amy stated, her tone flat, observational. "Showing me the ropes. Literally." Her other hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin where Jan's thigh met her hip, exposed by the hogtie's brutal spread. Jan flinched violently, a choked whimper escaping the gag. "But you never answered," Amy pressed, her fingers lingering on Jan’s bare fett, then begining to make little circkes. "Who taught *you* this? Who tied you first?"

Amy continued the tickle sssault, gradually increasing intensity as she spoke, never seriously expecting snanswer. “You see imlied. My brither taught me. Chief scout of the oack. A knot exoert. Endless summer afternoons tied to a tree, staked oit in the sun. I hot the hang of it. Played ‘escape’ with my friends at sleep overs. But who taught yiu?”

Amy’s fingers paused their circling. The silence stretched, thick with the hum of the AC and Jan’s muffled breathing. Jan strained against the hogtie, the ropes digging deeper with every futile twist. Her mind raced—confession or defiance? The gag choked her options. She let out a low, desperate moan, hoping Amy would interpret it as distress needing release.

Amy sighed, the sound surprisingly soft against Jan’s ear. "Fine," she murmured. Her fingers moved to the buckles of the ball gag’s harness. With a soft *click*, the pressure eased. Amy peeled away the duct tape slowly, mindful of skin. The cool air hit Jan’s lips as the silicone ball slipped free. Jan gasped, gulping air. "Well?" Amy prompted, her voice dangerously calm. Her thumb traced the raw line where the tape had been.

Jan swallowed, her throat dry. "My ex-husband," she rasped. The admission felt like pulling barbed wire from her chest. "Greg. He was... meticulous. Liked things precise." She shifted, the ropes creaking. "Started with silk ties during sex. Escalated." Amy’s silence was heavy. Jan pressed on, words tumbling out. "He taught me security knots—said it was trust. Then control. Then punishment." She laughed, a bitter scrape. "I learned to tie them tighter than he ever could."

Amy traced the ropework binding Jan’s thighs. "Why keep his toys?" Her fingertip brushed the leather cuffs still scattered on the duvet. Jan tensed.

"Proof I survived," she whispered. "That I took the power back." Amy’s hand stilled.

"Or," she countered softly, "proof you never let go." She picked up the ball gag and shoved it back in Jan’s mouth, then wrapped tape around her head covering the ball and blondfold. Then hervhand ran to Jan’s thighs and between her legs, brudhing the curly hairs. “Im never going to,let you go. Im going to take you to heaven!”

[LunaDog]

“Im never going to,let you go. Im going to take you to heaven!”

I should think not!

Nice one Jan, great story.