The Rope Bunny and the Dominatrix (F/F)
Posted: Mon Mar 04, 2024 12:27 pm
The Rope Bunny and the Dominatrix (F/F)
Friday, May 12, 2017
My little flip phone started ringing. Taking it out of my pocket, I answered the phone without even looking to see who was calling. I was out delivering packages at the time, and I've fallen prey to too many scams in this way because then the scammers know they have dialed a real number. I was glad, though, to hear a familiar voice.
"Hi, Mary-Ann!" I heard the cheerful voice of Jenny Kristensen.
"Hello! What's up?" I asked her, "I've got two more stops on my route and pick-ups."
"I just wanted to make sure our play date was still on," the happy voice responded.
"Oh, yes it is and do I ever have the surprise for you!" I responded with glee and hung up on her.
I love doing this to people because they cannot text me. I can just end the conversation without letting them get a single word in edgewise. Since they can't text me, they can't send their words to me. I can ignore voicemail. I do this to all of my friends, including Jenny, and it makes all of them stir up like a wildcat.
I look like a plain, simple girl on the outside. I don't have tattoos or piercings; I don't even have an earlobe piercing. I'm just your local FedEx girl on the big old white box truck. I even look like a stereotypical Roman Catholic girl: I always wear a crucifix around my neck except when I am in water. I also have dogtags with each of my prison cell numbers and my arrest dates so I'll never forget what it took me to survive. I lived with my bestie Kendra and our friend Ashley.
I am truly a wildcat though. I might be a package delivery driver, but in my spare time I have yet another job: film producer. You can find me tied up as a girl next door, a secretary, or a girl with her body crushed in ropes as part of plot driven movies that I produce. I seem adventurous, but I have faith-based limits. However you can also find me as the dominatrix, and I love to dominate those who fight me in different ways than I enjoy being dominated. "Hostess of Horrors" is what my friends from my days in youth prison use as a term of endearment after enduring enough fun at my hands during the little "TUG Parties" I hold in my home.
It was all an elaborate trap for Jenny, who was back home for the summer after her junior year of college. I invited her over to try on some clothes that her cousin Kendra no longer wanted. They could be of use for moments where the clothes would be thrown away afterwards, though, such as that "Tough Mudder" that I know she wanted to do with me and Kendra that summer. Mixed into the pile was a catsuit that was just Jenny's size and that a local studio no longer needed since it was shutting down that arm of their business since their basement was lost in a flood.
I pulled into the driveway of the little rented home just as Jenny was pulling up as well. Unlike me, Jenny had eaten, but I was having catsuit vixen for supper! Best was that I had a dependable poker face and could hide my emotions perfectly well. She had no idea that I was planning what devious traps lay before her. She knew to trust me as far as she could throw me, but Jenny was too innocent to follow her own advice when it came to me, one of her friends. For a girl who has the nickname "Gangsta Princess," she's really the "Princess of Wearing Bandanas" or "Princess of Rope Bunnies" or "Princess of TUG Chumps." She is typing this for me while I dictate it to her because I do not own a computer, and she is playfully hitting me. My own little secretary.
"How dare you hang up on me!" the little girl squeaked as she ran up to me.
"Hang up? On you?" I was such a faker, "I was driving. You know how it is."
"Oh, you are just trying to get me going, aren't you?!" she playfully stomped the ground.
"Let's go in; your cousin is getting married this month," I grabbed her arm, "Enjoy her while she is single."
"Let go of me," she pushed, but my grip was too strong.
"You weren't moving," I shoved her into the little house.
Kendra was passed out on the sofa after a day of modeling alongside friends and, based on the mess on the table, Burger King. She was every bit as adorable as her cousin after a multi-faceted and very personal struggle that she and I fought together. The two look so much alike, and it is hard to believe that Jenny is the bigger of the two. We paused and stared at the Sleeping Beauty knowing she would eventually hear us and come into my room to see what kind of trouble I was causing this time.
My room was wild thanks to the suspension frame I had in it. It was originally made for heavy lifting, and I reinforced it myself. No one taught me how. I just figure this stuff out on my own by walking around my local Ace Hardware or Menards. It came apart if necessary and was super strong. I once suspended two girls at once using it; it was going to get used within the hour.
"How about these?" I tossed a pair of shorts to her.
"All right," she took off her shorts, sneakers, and socks and put Kendra's on.
"Hmm… not you."
"I don't need that," she ditched that pair, "Got anything I can use for TUGs or Tough Mudder?"
"Why don't you like purple or blue?" I asked her because I thought it looked great on her.
"I just don't," she hid her colorblindness from almost everyone for 6 more months.
I forgot to tell you anything about us. I'm a big girl… like 5'7"… and a half maybe? My hair is crazier than I am with tons of curls and a really dark color. Nothing keeps my hair under control; hair clips, barrettes, bandanas, scrunchies all fail to prevent it from being a big poof. After 6 years in juvie, don't mess with me cause I can break your teeth with my non-dominant hand. My friends call me "the French girl with the big floppy titties" because my boobs kind of just fall out when I get exposed. I like them, and I enjoy the irreverent nicknames based on my reality.
Jenny's a tiny thing, almost a head under me, and so well toned that it's unbelievable. I have leg envy for real, but Jenny's a scholarship runner. The blonde hair is always under a bandana, and today it's her pink paisley one that she is wearing in the triangular style with the fabric knotted under her hair. Whatever they call that style is what it is. Kerchief? Thank you, Jenny. See? I have my own personal secretary. Anyway, she's a homely little worm, and… she's hitting me again! Seriously, she's a cute "Gangsta Princess" and truly defines the genuine qualities of love, friendship, and TUGs that are the mission of the Cool Girls' Club where I was lovingly accepted two years before this.
"How about these?" I tossed the black catsuit at her.
"Is it a onesie?" she innocently asked.
"You can think of it that way! Try it on!" I opened a drawer and grabbed a piece of white rope.
"OK," she eagerly jumped into the catsuit and zipped it up, "Are you sure they're PJs?"
"They're not," I studied her curves, "It's a sexy catsuit, and I'm tying you up!"
"Mary-Ann! You sneaky double-crosser!" she squeaked and backed into the corner.
She cannot stop me. Ho ho, I am much stronger than her and bound her elbows behind her back. She complained without a break for air, but that didn't deter me. I was a girl on a mission, and a fire in her eyes is a fire of the genuine love of submission. My friend will never admit that she is a bondage addict as she thinks of bondage in terms of ball gags and shackles and believes it's all cute and kiddy so long as items a kid could buy at Wal-Mart or Ace are being used. Sorry, Jenny, but you're an adventurous girl: sock gags, kidnappings, cinch straps, rigid cuffs, ratchet straps. If I can go to a regular store and buy it, she will let someone tie her up with it.
While I put on my own orange catsuit, because no one can command a situation like a girl who is in a catsuit, and no color is better for a girl who spent the better part of six years in juvenile hall, my captive grunted and complained. I was not carried away yet; I was still just having fun doing what I did best. I got my catsuits as seconds because yes I have several. Mood rings, you know?
Oh, my feet are bare now, so you know I have taken my socks off. I like being either barefoot or in work boots when wearing a catsuit. More to come on the socks in just a second.
Jenny lay on the bed now with ropes on either side of her elbows and her wrists. She squirmed as if she could escape, and that bandana covered head snapped to and fro to use her braid to whip me. Silly captive, she could not escape though! I pulled the socks off the rope bunnys feet and approached her in a strongly dominant manner.
"Open up, now!" I said to her in a commanding tone.
"No way!" she turned away at the stench, "Gag yourself with them!"
"I once was gagged with Kendra's socks while my boyfriend and I cuddled on the couch!"
"Well, do it again with my socks this time!" Jenny and I both had an aversion to cursing.
"You forced me!" I pinched her butt without remorse.
"OWWW MMMMMMM!" she was—is—such a sweet gag talker.
Silly girl. She thought those sorority gags weren't ball gags; they were homemade ball gags, you idiosyncratic girl ! Here, enjoy four layers of cleave gag black vet wrap. I will wrap more over your lips as well. Heck, I'll stuff cotton in your ears and wrap you up in vet wrap until nothing is exposed except your ponytail and your nose. For good measure, I'll wrap it down to your neck and laugh at your squeals and spank your butt, you naughty girl! Along the way, I will put my socks over your nose so all the air you breathe is first filtered by heavenly perfume! Enjoy!
My secretary is hitting me again and giggling because I changed tenses right there.
Typically, boxties are sexier with catsuits, but I know that elbow ties are her favorite. Jenny likes a good, tight elbow bondage the same way she likes that my socks are in her mouth or a big slice of homemade apple pie. Yes, Jenny's two favorite desserts are dirty socks and hot apple pie. She even taught me how to make it! Where was I again? Oh, right!
I knew a lot for a girl who at this point had a flip phone and no internet, yes? I was 23 (2017?) when I finally splurged and got myself a cheap iPad and home internet. I still use a flip phone; I am just as connected to my friends, though, because connection is spiritual. The difference now is that I'm married and got little rugrats ripping up the halls! The ‘net is mostly for easier bill payment; I have done little bondage research besides finding studios to visit on my car journeys to visit friends because I don't fly either. It wasn't until visiting college-going friends that I left Minnesota, or the Minneapolis metro at that, for the first time in my life.
A waist-and-crotch rope surprised her, and the tight harness made her squeak. Rope was perfect for putting her in a helpless position. I am a big bad dominatrix, aren't I? I tightly tied the ropes so she was fully submitted to my will. She'd expected TUGs but not a catsuit! She was such a perfect fit for it that it gave me a dominatrix thrill just to be playing this game with her!
"Are you having fun yet?" I asked with a childish smile.
"Nmmmmm!" she squealed as I rolled her onto her back and sat on her stomach.
"Hmmmm, something's wrong. I can't understand what you are saying!" I grabbed her flailing legs and wrapped a rope around her muscular thighs.
"Mmmmmm!" a mute sound came out of her, "Mmmmmmm!"
"I am sorry Jenny, but you seem deaf and dumb at the moment."
I figured a wetsuit was similar to a catsuit but thicker. At least, I figured this based on the photos other people had shown me since I only have a bare bones Facebook. No one will change that I am disconnected and happy. Speaking of disconnected, Jenny felt a bit disconnected too with her mouth stuffed, her ears plugged, and her air filtered. She was living the saying "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, smell no evil, and touch no evil.
Three and three for thee. Three ropes on her thighs, three ropes on her legs. Barefoot Jenny was too busy eating her socks to wear them like a normal person. That meant she was ripe to have her big toes strung together. White nylon string was a perfect match. Her toes were so perfectly tied, and I went the extra mile to tie them all together.
String is so pretty on a Christmas present; I figured I'd wrap up Jenny's fingers. Indeed, I tied her four long fingers together, and I tide all five right fingers to the left fingers and even tied her palms together. Got that thumb in there, and her hands were useless! I am such a devilish girl, aren't I? You think so, don't you, Jenny? Stop hitting me! No! Naughty Jenny!
SMACK! it's fun, right? Nothing is like the sound of a helpless captive crying out into a gag when you start spanking her. That screech is musical, addicting; heck, it's even empowering. I get a rush from domination, and a captive's cry is addicting like a drug. It's a strange high that I feel embarrassed to even possess because of my beliefs, but as long as they're used for clean fun!
WHACK!, a wooden ruler was so perfect for her feet, and the scream coming from a girl in distress sings to my soul. It is only satisfactory when you realize that she enjoys the suffering as much as you are enjoying giving it. When the crack of the ruler sounds out, the legs contract in a heartbeat and the toes spread. I enjoy bondage on earth as I suspect there will be none in heaven; I'll be busy doing other things. Yes, this is secondary to my spirituality.
"Jennnnn-nyyyy," I gently stroked her feet and forced her to start giggling. Beautiful is only one word that describes the childish reaction she has to tickling, and thrashing is a natural reaction to it. There is little she can do, and she is doubly blessed to chew on her socks and filter the air she breathes through mine; just try to imagine the heavenly scent she is experiencing since I work 7 to 6 as a package delivery driver.
YANK!, I jerked on her braid and got a muffled "Owwww!" through the succulent gag she had. I couldn't see her face, but her movements said she was quite happy with my actions. Life became so much more fun when I met Jenny. Domination is best when a rope bunny like Jenny is the one being dominated. She was joyfully angry with this wild situation and continued to yell unintelligible murmurings. I laughed at her and gave her another round of torment. One of each.
SMACK! WHACK! YANK! You imagine the screech. It woke up Kendra!
"MMMMM!" Jenny continued groaning into her socks.
"Oh, suck ‘em!" I made a cruel double entendre right then, although she couldn't hear me.
"Mmmmm!" she responded, and as she types this she starts hitting me again!
"You just like kicking!" I observed her thrashing body while Kendra entered the doorway.
"The hell you doin'?" she asked me, "What on earth have you done to her?!"
"Just playing a game!" I am so innocent, aren't I?
Not.
I took another coil of rope and put my friend in the most unkind of hogties. I wrapped rope from her ankles to her harness and then ran it through and around her various arm ropes so that there was no easy escape. I repeated going from her ankles to her harness and back and forth before I cinched it closed like the professional dominatrix that I am and knotted it out of reach.
Kendra watched me with her usual shaking head. She didn't partake all the time except tying up someone upon request or being part of group games; she'd retired from modeling for the first of three times before she finally gave up on retiring and looked forward to marriage. Even she was surprised when I wrapped Jenny's braid up in a string and tied it to her toes! Hair tie plus hog tie with that gag is chef's kiss. OK, so when I was younger I paid a little attention when the prison TV was on. One of the girls in my pod liked watching cooking shows.
Despite not being that interested in bondage, Kendra's always interested when her semi-identical cousin's around. It's hard to believe Kendra's even shorter than Jenny, but then again Kendra has a deviated septum. One's coarse, and the other's sweet. Their hearts are both filled with gold, in my opinion, and I'm happy that after so much fighting with herself that Kendra chose to be more like Jenny after all. She stood in the doorway and gazed hopefully at the suspension frame and stole Jenny's phone to take a photo. Jenny's blushing while typing that part; she loves Kendra so much, and she was devastated when she learned the full truth about Kenny's downfall.
"Kendra," I admitted as I sadistically enjoy Jenny, "It'll be hard without you around."
"No sappy crap," the gruff girl pushed that off, "I'm here to watch my best friend and my cousin at play. My two favorite people are playing their favorite game together."
"Six months ago, I did a similar thing to you while you wore the same catsuit. You'll let me do this to you for money, but not always at home. But sometimes you do! I don't get you."
"I am, was, a model and a small-time actress, and we're friends. It's just acting."
"Good times that I will miss; you're cuter than she is when you're tied up."
"Mary," Kendra continued, "I'm gonna miss the adventures."
Kendra and I had been roommates for three years. After I got out of prison, I spent some time as a homeless person before moving in with my cousin. I couldn't stand being a burden and moved into my own place, and soon Kendra moved in with me. After a few weeks, I was going to have no Kendra in my home, but we'd remain besties. She was still staring at the frame.
"You want me to turn your cousin into a piece of meat, don't you?" I asked that sneaky girl.
"Heck, yeah, baby. Hang her up like a smoked ham," Kendra laughed at the very thought.
"I will do it with exorbitant amounts of happiness!" I grabbed another coil of rope.
"Get to it, Trix Domina!" a genuine smile formed on her face because Jenny was the ham.
"I'm doing it!" I wrapped the rope around Jenny's knees.
"Mmmmm!" my sense-deprived friend wiggled a little, unaware of what was happening.
With a scream, Jenny was hoisted into the air. That squeal! Only true rope bunnies squeal like that! Jenny, you are a fun, wild Gangsta Princess, an adventure seeker, a true bondage addict, a supreme submissive, and a rope bunny, but you will never be a slave. You're strong willed, and the fight is where you get half the pleasure. Kendra took more photos with Jenny's phone.
The apparatus was perfect. Jenny swung with no chance of the frame collapsing. Now I did it again: SMACK! WHACK! YANK! TWIST! Do I love that gag talk screaming that much? Oh, yes, yes, YES! She loves it too, and my roommate enjoys being a witness to it. Those screams are an angelic chorus to me; do you feel as do I that a psychiatrist would have a field day with me? I actually served as a test subject for my friend the psychiatrist who is also one of my fellow bondage models while she worked on her doctorate.
I can do those tortures all day, but you know what would really make this amazing? If an ice cube or three ended up inside that catsuit. I sent Kendra to fetch some cubes, and she eagerly dashed off to do just that. It's nice to have a lovely assistant like her, and the desire to join the festivities in this way showed she enjoys TUGs much more than she verbally claimed.
Jenny looked so amazing dangling upside down from the bar above, and my mind raced with ten thousand ways to torment her. The three best gags to me are: ball gags (of any type), dirty socks, and head harnesses. Jenny is a rope bunny, yet she only likes the second. Strange limits. Jenny, that's what makes you such fun when I play with you, you total weirdo. No. Hitting. Me. To be clear, she's playfully striking, not trying to hurt me. Jenny, stop it. Jenny, I do love you! Yes, I'll permit you to print a quote here: "We had so much fun! Rope bunny paradise!"
"Here you go," Kendra handed me a cup of ice cubes.
"Perfect," I put it down and unzipped the catsuit just enough to accomplish my nefarious deeds.
"Mmmmm!" My captive continued enjoying the chef's kiss tastes and scents of bondage.
"One for here," I jammed ice into the suit with my hands because gravity was against me.
"EEEEE!" she instantly reacted to the cold, and she repeated it when I poured some on her back.
"Perfect, perfect," I zipped the suit back up and left her to enjoy herself
Jenny was now wailing loudly into the gag as if I actually cared a whit about her minor protests; I'll do something to stop when you're in legit distress or using the safe signals because I know if I cross a line you will use those fearlessly. The rope bunny was heading towards the crazy parallel universe of subspace, yes? Yes, yes, she was. I had just the trick to ensure she got there because she was two thirds of the way there after the spanking, and those ice cubes were pushing her ever closer! The rush of being completely unable to escape did wonders for her; gravity caused that upside down hogtie to incessantly yank on your braid; just being upside down will be enough for most people; you were getting my absolute best today, my bondage toy! Kendra was filming her cousin's torment; she knew Jenny loved it and would want to watch the video afterwards.
Jenny met her friend, the electric toothbrush! Oh, yes, she was certain to reach subspace now! Yes, she was! I took the devilish little device and started rubbing it on the soles of her feet since she couldn't do anything with them. Now she was laughing, my friend, and was forced to suffer with the mouthwatering flavors of your feet and smothered in the piquant cheese of my own feet. Despite the muted sounds and her inability to express anything, I could tell by the muted squeals that she was loving every moment of what I did. It was our bizarre friendship at its best.
Those sounds that came from Jenny were a powerful drug to me. All we heard was "Guh, huuh, huuuh, huuuuuuuuh! GUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!" because her face was so crushed. Kendra had a smile on her face, and I just felt a stronger and stronger rush going through my body. Jenny, I am not slightly sorry. In fact, I'd do it again! I'd do worse if you gave me the chance! I knew I saw it coming, a slowing in her struggles. Was she losing the battle? There was no need to yank on her braid when every motion drove an intense shot of incredible oxycotin; a spank or four will do it though. "Yes, Kendra, hand me the paddle; no, not that one, the big one. Yes, that one!" One! Two! Three! Four! I don't know how I feel about quotes in a paragraph like this.
"Kendra, I'm done. I need a drink of water," and my bestie sweetly handed me the cup.
"You OK?" she noticed the quiet Jenny no longer was struggling like she was before, "And her?"
"She's in subspace. Hit her feet with the toothbrush for another 90 seconds, and she'll be gone."
"All right," she was more than glad to help me, "And paddling?"
"Yeah, after you've done that, give her a paddle on each cheek."
"Don't thank me, cousin," Kendra relished playing with Jenny every single time.
Kendra dutifully imitated what I had done enough, and by the time she was done Jenny was lost in her subspace. Pushing her there was such a delight, and she deserved to enjoy a moment of total peace after working so hard on her studies to do the best she could. I apologize for this, but I needed a break as a result of my own mental exhaustion from the experience: domspace.
Jenny was now silent except for the occasional little high-pitched squeal of delight. She was no longer mentally with us like she was before subspace. This was a calm and relaxed Jenny. If I could free her at the snap of my fingers, she'd lie still and softly talk about how much fun she just had. None of that Jenny energy was there. The Gangsta Princess was out of the house. She only cooed a little, much like a mourning dove.
I asked Kendra to free Jenny's head since she could definitely last another 5 to 15 minutes upside down. Jenny was wrapped up so tightly under all the vet wrap, and there were marks all over her face that Kendra photographed for her beloved cousin. With an enchanted smile, Jenny spat out her socks; she was calm, relaxed, lucid, and generally content with the adventure
I am such a bondage addict. I won't reveal all of my cards, but I am mesmerized by the dynamic that must exist. At the end of the day, you're binding, gagging, spanking, tickling, and protecting all at once! There is more that could be said, but at the moment I was captivated by the delighted soul dangling upside down. I truly love both sides of the game, but real relationships mean more to me. Like, I could give it all up as long as I have my faith and my friends.
"That's my catsuit!" Kendra realized and laughed, "I've gotten a lot of use out of that!"
"Yeah, it's a shame you won't be using it any longer, but we had fun making that spy film!"
"Yeah, you're fun to work with but—no offense, Mary—Jenny's more fun to watch."
"Thanks. I'm having fun," Jenny smiled at us lovingly, "Lower me, please?"
"All right," I stumbled as I stood, and I gave her a few paddles.
"Yikes!" she yelped without squirming while I carefully pushed her a little deeper into subspace.
In two minutes, she was hogtied on the bed and quietly fantasizing about what happened during our game and explaining her thoughts. She was deep into the mode and loving it more than she could express. I experienced a different high called domspace, which is the same thing but from domination! It's not as deep or lasting, but it's magical and unforgettable. Crazy, goofy, lovable girls we are; I deserve a round two with Jenny's socks in my mouth… hee hee heeeee!
I listened to Jenny while untying her fingers and toes first. Seeing someone be so happy from a session is truly the most fulfilling thing I can experience as a dominatrix with nothing else like it. Every couple of minutes, I put Jenny through two spanks to prolong her subspace. She squealed loudly and told me to stop. The subspace, of course, faded more quickly as each piece came off her body. Her fingers, toes, and hair were free, and I lowered her legs from the hogtie.
"Mmmmmmm, I like this," Jenny quietly remarked, "Mary-Ann, thank you for this."
"You're very welcome. I enjoyed it, and so did your cousin."
"How do you like my old catsuit? I promise you it's clean," Kendra crouched by us.
"I kind of like it. It's comfortable and fun. I feel like a cute Gangsta Spy or something."
"You should," I remarked to my most peculiar captive, "You're a cute Gangsta Princess."
"Heh heh," she laughed, "Will you keep it for future games?"
It was my turn to smile broadly. "Of course! I was hoping you'd want to keep it!"
Jenny smiled and squirmed in my rope work. I loved my sweet, idiosyncratic, and adventurous friend. She had wasted none of her opportunities this evening, and she was still as determined as ever despite being so much calmer. She acted like she could escape, but deep down in her heart she knew she was really struggling for my and Kendra's entertainment and to chase the awesome feeling of helplessness. What a thrill it is to have this one captive in my heart! Since the day I met her, I knew she was different, and a beautiful soul is there under all of her rope bunny thrills.
Now it was time for the adventure to end. I had to untie the adorable little Gangsta Princess and get her back into her own clothes, give her a snack, and send her on her way. We both knew that this game would stay in our minds for a long, time to come. With a promise to meet again soon, I watched the rope bunny leave and turned back to my roommate.
"That was great."
Now, if you will excuse me, I have a secretary to kidnap.
Friday, May 12, 2017
My little flip phone started ringing. Taking it out of my pocket, I answered the phone without even looking to see who was calling. I was out delivering packages at the time, and I've fallen prey to too many scams in this way because then the scammers know they have dialed a real number. I was glad, though, to hear a familiar voice.
"Hi, Mary-Ann!" I heard the cheerful voice of Jenny Kristensen.
"Hello! What's up?" I asked her, "I've got two more stops on my route and pick-ups."
"I just wanted to make sure our play date was still on," the happy voice responded.
"Oh, yes it is and do I ever have the surprise for you!" I responded with glee and hung up on her.
I love doing this to people because they cannot text me. I can just end the conversation without letting them get a single word in edgewise. Since they can't text me, they can't send their words to me. I can ignore voicemail. I do this to all of my friends, including Jenny, and it makes all of them stir up like a wildcat.
I look like a plain, simple girl on the outside. I don't have tattoos or piercings; I don't even have an earlobe piercing. I'm just your local FedEx girl on the big old white box truck. I even look like a stereotypical Roman Catholic girl: I always wear a crucifix around my neck except when I am in water. I also have dogtags with each of my prison cell numbers and my arrest dates so I'll never forget what it took me to survive. I lived with my bestie Kendra and our friend Ashley.
I am truly a wildcat though. I might be a package delivery driver, but in my spare time I have yet another job: film producer. You can find me tied up as a girl next door, a secretary, or a girl with her body crushed in ropes as part of plot driven movies that I produce. I seem adventurous, but I have faith-based limits. However you can also find me as the dominatrix, and I love to dominate those who fight me in different ways than I enjoy being dominated. "Hostess of Horrors" is what my friends from my days in youth prison use as a term of endearment after enduring enough fun at my hands during the little "TUG Parties" I hold in my home.
It was all an elaborate trap for Jenny, who was back home for the summer after her junior year of college. I invited her over to try on some clothes that her cousin Kendra no longer wanted. They could be of use for moments where the clothes would be thrown away afterwards, though, such as that "Tough Mudder" that I know she wanted to do with me and Kendra that summer. Mixed into the pile was a catsuit that was just Jenny's size and that a local studio no longer needed since it was shutting down that arm of their business since their basement was lost in a flood.
I pulled into the driveway of the little rented home just as Jenny was pulling up as well. Unlike me, Jenny had eaten, but I was having catsuit vixen for supper! Best was that I had a dependable poker face and could hide my emotions perfectly well. She had no idea that I was planning what devious traps lay before her. She knew to trust me as far as she could throw me, but Jenny was too innocent to follow her own advice when it came to me, one of her friends. For a girl who has the nickname "Gangsta Princess," she's really the "Princess of Wearing Bandanas" or "Princess of Rope Bunnies" or "Princess of TUG Chumps." She is typing this for me while I dictate it to her because I do not own a computer, and she is playfully hitting me. My own little secretary.
"How dare you hang up on me!" the little girl squeaked as she ran up to me.
"Hang up? On you?" I was such a faker, "I was driving. You know how it is."
"Oh, you are just trying to get me going, aren't you?!" she playfully stomped the ground.
"Let's go in; your cousin is getting married this month," I grabbed her arm, "Enjoy her while she is single."
"Let go of me," she pushed, but my grip was too strong.
"You weren't moving," I shoved her into the little house.
Kendra was passed out on the sofa after a day of modeling alongside friends and, based on the mess on the table, Burger King. She was every bit as adorable as her cousin after a multi-faceted and very personal struggle that she and I fought together. The two look so much alike, and it is hard to believe that Jenny is the bigger of the two. We paused and stared at the Sleeping Beauty knowing she would eventually hear us and come into my room to see what kind of trouble I was causing this time.
My room was wild thanks to the suspension frame I had in it. It was originally made for heavy lifting, and I reinforced it myself. No one taught me how. I just figure this stuff out on my own by walking around my local Ace Hardware or Menards. It came apart if necessary and was super strong. I once suspended two girls at once using it; it was going to get used within the hour.
"How about these?" I tossed a pair of shorts to her.
"All right," she took off her shorts, sneakers, and socks and put Kendra's on.
"Hmm… not you."
"I don't need that," she ditched that pair, "Got anything I can use for TUGs or Tough Mudder?"
"Why don't you like purple or blue?" I asked her because I thought it looked great on her.
"I just don't," she hid her colorblindness from almost everyone for 6 more months.
I forgot to tell you anything about us. I'm a big girl… like 5'7"… and a half maybe? My hair is crazier than I am with tons of curls and a really dark color. Nothing keeps my hair under control; hair clips, barrettes, bandanas, scrunchies all fail to prevent it from being a big poof. After 6 years in juvie, don't mess with me cause I can break your teeth with my non-dominant hand. My friends call me "the French girl with the big floppy titties" because my boobs kind of just fall out when I get exposed. I like them, and I enjoy the irreverent nicknames based on my reality.
Jenny's a tiny thing, almost a head under me, and so well toned that it's unbelievable. I have leg envy for real, but Jenny's a scholarship runner. The blonde hair is always under a bandana, and today it's her pink paisley one that she is wearing in the triangular style with the fabric knotted under her hair. Whatever they call that style is what it is. Kerchief? Thank you, Jenny. See? I have my own personal secretary. Anyway, she's a homely little worm, and… she's hitting me again! Seriously, she's a cute "Gangsta Princess" and truly defines the genuine qualities of love, friendship, and TUGs that are the mission of the Cool Girls' Club where I was lovingly accepted two years before this.
"How about these?" I tossed the black catsuit at her.
"Is it a onesie?" she innocently asked.
"You can think of it that way! Try it on!" I opened a drawer and grabbed a piece of white rope.
"OK," she eagerly jumped into the catsuit and zipped it up, "Are you sure they're PJs?"
"They're not," I studied her curves, "It's a sexy catsuit, and I'm tying you up!"
"Mary-Ann! You sneaky double-crosser!" she squeaked and backed into the corner.
She cannot stop me. Ho ho, I am much stronger than her and bound her elbows behind her back. She complained without a break for air, but that didn't deter me. I was a girl on a mission, and a fire in her eyes is a fire of the genuine love of submission. My friend will never admit that she is a bondage addict as she thinks of bondage in terms of ball gags and shackles and believes it's all cute and kiddy so long as items a kid could buy at Wal-Mart or Ace are being used. Sorry, Jenny, but you're an adventurous girl: sock gags, kidnappings, cinch straps, rigid cuffs, ratchet straps. If I can go to a regular store and buy it, she will let someone tie her up with it.
While I put on my own orange catsuit, because no one can command a situation like a girl who is in a catsuit, and no color is better for a girl who spent the better part of six years in juvenile hall, my captive grunted and complained. I was not carried away yet; I was still just having fun doing what I did best. I got my catsuits as seconds because yes I have several. Mood rings, you know?
Oh, my feet are bare now, so you know I have taken my socks off. I like being either barefoot or in work boots when wearing a catsuit. More to come on the socks in just a second.
Jenny lay on the bed now with ropes on either side of her elbows and her wrists. She squirmed as if she could escape, and that bandana covered head snapped to and fro to use her braid to whip me. Silly captive, she could not escape though! I pulled the socks off the rope bunnys feet and approached her in a strongly dominant manner.
"Open up, now!" I said to her in a commanding tone.
"No way!" she turned away at the stench, "Gag yourself with them!"
"I once was gagged with Kendra's socks while my boyfriend and I cuddled on the couch!"
"Well, do it again with my socks this time!" Jenny and I both had an aversion to cursing.
"You forced me!" I pinched her butt without remorse.
"OWWW MMMMMMM!" she was—is—such a sweet gag talker.
Silly girl. She thought those sorority gags weren't ball gags; they were homemade ball gags, you idiosyncratic girl ! Here, enjoy four layers of cleave gag black vet wrap. I will wrap more over your lips as well. Heck, I'll stuff cotton in your ears and wrap you up in vet wrap until nothing is exposed except your ponytail and your nose. For good measure, I'll wrap it down to your neck and laugh at your squeals and spank your butt, you naughty girl! Along the way, I will put my socks over your nose so all the air you breathe is first filtered by heavenly perfume! Enjoy!
My secretary is hitting me again and giggling because I changed tenses right there.
Typically, boxties are sexier with catsuits, but I know that elbow ties are her favorite. Jenny likes a good, tight elbow bondage the same way she likes that my socks are in her mouth or a big slice of homemade apple pie. Yes, Jenny's two favorite desserts are dirty socks and hot apple pie. She even taught me how to make it! Where was I again? Oh, right!
I knew a lot for a girl who at this point had a flip phone and no internet, yes? I was 23 (2017?) when I finally splurged and got myself a cheap iPad and home internet. I still use a flip phone; I am just as connected to my friends, though, because connection is spiritual. The difference now is that I'm married and got little rugrats ripping up the halls! The ‘net is mostly for easier bill payment; I have done little bondage research besides finding studios to visit on my car journeys to visit friends because I don't fly either. It wasn't until visiting college-going friends that I left Minnesota, or the Minneapolis metro at that, for the first time in my life.
A waist-and-crotch rope surprised her, and the tight harness made her squeak. Rope was perfect for putting her in a helpless position. I am a big bad dominatrix, aren't I? I tightly tied the ropes so she was fully submitted to my will. She'd expected TUGs but not a catsuit! She was such a perfect fit for it that it gave me a dominatrix thrill just to be playing this game with her!
"Are you having fun yet?" I asked with a childish smile.
"Nmmmmm!" she squealed as I rolled her onto her back and sat on her stomach.
"Hmmmm, something's wrong. I can't understand what you are saying!" I grabbed her flailing legs and wrapped a rope around her muscular thighs.
"Mmmmmm!" a mute sound came out of her, "Mmmmmmm!"
"I am sorry Jenny, but you seem deaf and dumb at the moment."
I figured a wetsuit was similar to a catsuit but thicker. At least, I figured this based on the photos other people had shown me since I only have a bare bones Facebook. No one will change that I am disconnected and happy. Speaking of disconnected, Jenny felt a bit disconnected too with her mouth stuffed, her ears plugged, and her air filtered. She was living the saying "Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, smell no evil, and touch no evil.
Three and three for thee. Three ropes on her thighs, three ropes on her legs. Barefoot Jenny was too busy eating her socks to wear them like a normal person. That meant she was ripe to have her big toes strung together. White nylon string was a perfect match. Her toes were so perfectly tied, and I went the extra mile to tie them all together.
String is so pretty on a Christmas present; I figured I'd wrap up Jenny's fingers. Indeed, I tied her four long fingers together, and I tide all five right fingers to the left fingers and even tied her palms together. Got that thumb in there, and her hands were useless! I am such a devilish girl, aren't I? You think so, don't you, Jenny? Stop hitting me! No! Naughty Jenny!
SMACK! it's fun, right? Nothing is like the sound of a helpless captive crying out into a gag when you start spanking her. That screech is musical, addicting; heck, it's even empowering. I get a rush from domination, and a captive's cry is addicting like a drug. It's a strange high that I feel embarrassed to even possess because of my beliefs, but as long as they're used for clean fun!
WHACK!, a wooden ruler was so perfect for her feet, and the scream coming from a girl in distress sings to my soul. It is only satisfactory when you realize that she enjoys the suffering as much as you are enjoying giving it. When the crack of the ruler sounds out, the legs contract in a heartbeat and the toes spread. I enjoy bondage on earth as I suspect there will be none in heaven; I'll be busy doing other things. Yes, this is secondary to my spirituality.
"Jennnnn-nyyyy," I gently stroked her feet and forced her to start giggling. Beautiful is only one word that describes the childish reaction she has to tickling, and thrashing is a natural reaction to it. There is little she can do, and she is doubly blessed to chew on her socks and filter the air she breathes through mine; just try to imagine the heavenly scent she is experiencing since I work 7 to 6 as a package delivery driver.
YANK!, I jerked on her braid and got a muffled "Owwww!" through the succulent gag she had. I couldn't see her face, but her movements said she was quite happy with my actions. Life became so much more fun when I met Jenny. Domination is best when a rope bunny like Jenny is the one being dominated. She was joyfully angry with this wild situation and continued to yell unintelligible murmurings. I laughed at her and gave her another round of torment. One of each.
SMACK! WHACK! YANK! You imagine the screech. It woke up Kendra!
"MMMMM!" Jenny continued groaning into her socks.
"Oh, suck ‘em!" I made a cruel double entendre right then, although she couldn't hear me.
"Mmmmm!" she responded, and as she types this she starts hitting me again!
"You just like kicking!" I observed her thrashing body while Kendra entered the doorway.
"The hell you doin'?" she asked me, "What on earth have you done to her?!"
"Just playing a game!" I am so innocent, aren't I?
Not.
I took another coil of rope and put my friend in the most unkind of hogties. I wrapped rope from her ankles to her harness and then ran it through and around her various arm ropes so that there was no easy escape. I repeated going from her ankles to her harness and back and forth before I cinched it closed like the professional dominatrix that I am and knotted it out of reach.
Kendra watched me with her usual shaking head. She didn't partake all the time except tying up someone upon request or being part of group games; she'd retired from modeling for the first of three times before she finally gave up on retiring and looked forward to marriage. Even she was surprised when I wrapped Jenny's braid up in a string and tied it to her toes! Hair tie plus hog tie with that gag is chef's kiss. OK, so when I was younger I paid a little attention when the prison TV was on. One of the girls in my pod liked watching cooking shows.
Despite not being that interested in bondage, Kendra's always interested when her semi-identical cousin's around. It's hard to believe Kendra's even shorter than Jenny, but then again Kendra has a deviated septum. One's coarse, and the other's sweet. Their hearts are both filled with gold, in my opinion, and I'm happy that after so much fighting with herself that Kendra chose to be more like Jenny after all. She stood in the doorway and gazed hopefully at the suspension frame and stole Jenny's phone to take a photo. Jenny's blushing while typing that part; she loves Kendra so much, and she was devastated when she learned the full truth about Kenny's downfall.
"Kendra," I admitted as I sadistically enjoy Jenny, "It'll be hard without you around."
"No sappy crap," the gruff girl pushed that off, "I'm here to watch my best friend and my cousin at play. My two favorite people are playing their favorite game together."
"Six months ago, I did a similar thing to you while you wore the same catsuit. You'll let me do this to you for money, but not always at home. But sometimes you do! I don't get you."
"I am, was, a model and a small-time actress, and we're friends. It's just acting."
"Good times that I will miss; you're cuter than she is when you're tied up."
"Mary," Kendra continued, "I'm gonna miss the adventures."
Kendra and I had been roommates for three years. After I got out of prison, I spent some time as a homeless person before moving in with my cousin. I couldn't stand being a burden and moved into my own place, and soon Kendra moved in with me. After a few weeks, I was going to have no Kendra in my home, but we'd remain besties. She was still staring at the frame.
"You want me to turn your cousin into a piece of meat, don't you?" I asked that sneaky girl.
"Heck, yeah, baby. Hang her up like a smoked ham," Kendra laughed at the very thought.
"I will do it with exorbitant amounts of happiness!" I grabbed another coil of rope.
"Get to it, Trix Domina!" a genuine smile formed on her face because Jenny was the ham.
"I'm doing it!" I wrapped the rope around Jenny's knees.
"Mmmmm!" my sense-deprived friend wiggled a little, unaware of what was happening.
With a scream, Jenny was hoisted into the air. That squeal! Only true rope bunnies squeal like that! Jenny, you are a fun, wild Gangsta Princess, an adventure seeker, a true bondage addict, a supreme submissive, and a rope bunny, but you will never be a slave. You're strong willed, and the fight is where you get half the pleasure. Kendra took more photos with Jenny's phone.
The apparatus was perfect. Jenny swung with no chance of the frame collapsing. Now I did it again: SMACK! WHACK! YANK! TWIST! Do I love that gag talk screaming that much? Oh, yes, yes, YES! She loves it too, and my roommate enjoys being a witness to it. Those screams are an angelic chorus to me; do you feel as do I that a psychiatrist would have a field day with me? I actually served as a test subject for my friend the psychiatrist who is also one of my fellow bondage models while she worked on her doctorate.
I can do those tortures all day, but you know what would really make this amazing? If an ice cube or three ended up inside that catsuit. I sent Kendra to fetch some cubes, and she eagerly dashed off to do just that. It's nice to have a lovely assistant like her, and the desire to join the festivities in this way showed she enjoys TUGs much more than she verbally claimed.
Jenny looked so amazing dangling upside down from the bar above, and my mind raced with ten thousand ways to torment her. The three best gags to me are: ball gags (of any type), dirty socks, and head harnesses. Jenny is a rope bunny, yet she only likes the second. Strange limits. Jenny, that's what makes you such fun when I play with you, you total weirdo. No. Hitting. Me. To be clear, she's playfully striking, not trying to hurt me. Jenny, stop it. Jenny, I do love you! Yes, I'll permit you to print a quote here: "We had so much fun! Rope bunny paradise!"
"Here you go," Kendra handed me a cup of ice cubes.
"Perfect," I put it down and unzipped the catsuit just enough to accomplish my nefarious deeds.
"Mmmmm!" My captive continued enjoying the chef's kiss tastes and scents of bondage.
"One for here," I jammed ice into the suit with my hands because gravity was against me.
"EEEEE!" she instantly reacted to the cold, and she repeated it when I poured some on her back.
"Perfect, perfect," I zipped the suit back up and left her to enjoy herself
Jenny was now wailing loudly into the gag as if I actually cared a whit about her minor protests; I'll do something to stop when you're in legit distress or using the safe signals because I know if I cross a line you will use those fearlessly. The rope bunny was heading towards the crazy parallel universe of subspace, yes? Yes, yes, she was. I had just the trick to ensure she got there because she was two thirds of the way there after the spanking, and those ice cubes were pushing her ever closer! The rush of being completely unable to escape did wonders for her; gravity caused that upside down hogtie to incessantly yank on your braid; just being upside down will be enough for most people; you were getting my absolute best today, my bondage toy! Kendra was filming her cousin's torment; she knew Jenny loved it and would want to watch the video afterwards.
Jenny met her friend, the electric toothbrush! Oh, yes, she was certain to reach subspace now! Yes, she was! I took the devilish little device and started rubbing it on the soles of her feet since she couldn't do anything with them. Now she was laughing, my friend, and was forced to suffer with the mouthwatering flavors of your feet and smothered in the piquant cheese of my own feet. Despite the muted sounds and her inability to express anything, I could tell by the muted squeals that she was loving every moment of what I did. It was our bizarre friendship at its best.
Those sounds that came from Jenny were a powerful drug to me. All we heard was "Guh, huuh, huuuh, huuuuuuuuh! GUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!" because her face was so crushed. Kendra had a smile on her face, and I just felt a stronger and stronger rush going through my body. Jenny, I am not slightly sorry. In fact, I'd do it again! I'd do worse if you gave me the chance! I knew I saw it coming, a slowing in her struggles. Was she losing the battle? There was no need to yank on her braid when every motion drove an intense shot of incredible oxycotin; a spank or four will do it though. "Yes, Kendra, hand me the paddle; no, not that one, the big one. Yes, that one!" One! Two! Three! Four! I don't know how I feel about quotes in a paragraph like this.
"Kendra, I'm done. I need a drink of water," and my bestie sweetly handed me the cup.
"You OK?" she noticed the quiet Jenny no longer was struggling like she was before, "And her?"
"She's in subspace. Hit her feet with the toothbrush for another 90 seconds, and she'll be gone."
"All right," she was more than glad to help me, "And paddling?"
"Yeah, after you've done that, give her a paddle on each cheek."
"Don't thank me, cousin," Kendra relished playing with Jenny every single time.
Kendra dutifully imitated what I had done enough, and by the time she was done Jenny was lost in her subspace. Pushing her there was such a delight, and she deserved to enjoy a moment of total peace after working so hard on her studies to do the best she could. I apologize for this, but I needed a break as a result of my own mental exhaustion from the experience: domspace.
Jenny was now silent except for the occasional little high-pitched squeal of delight. She was no longer mentally with us like she was before subspace. This was a calm and relaxed Jenny. If I could free her at the snap of my fingers, she'd lie still and softly talk about how much fun she just had. None of that Jenny energy was there. The Gangsta Princess was out of the house. She only cooed a little, much like a mourning dove.
I asked Kendra to free Jenny's head since she could definitely last another 5 to 15 minutes upside down. Jenny was wrapped up so tightly under all the vet wrap, and there were marks all over her face that Kendra photographed for her beloved cousin. With an enchanted smile, Jenny spat out her socks; she was calm, relaxed, lucid, and generally content with the adventure
I am such a bondage addict. I won't reveal all of my cards, but I am mesmerized by the dynamic that must exist. At the end of the day, you're binding, gagging, spanking, tickling, and protecting all at once! There is more that could be said, but at the moment I was captivated by the delighted soul dangling upside down. I truly love both sides of the game, but real relationships mean more to me. Like, I could give it all up as long as I have my faith and my friends.
"That's my catsuit!" Kendra realized and laughed, "I've gotten a lot of use out of that!"
"Yeah, it's a shame you won't be using it any longer, but we had fun making that spy film!"
"Yeah, you're fun to work with but—no offense, Mary—Jenny's more fun to watch."
"Thanks. I'm having fun," Jenny smiled at us lovingly, "Lower me, please?"
"All right," I stumbled as I stood, and I gave her a few paddles.
"Yikes!" she yelped without squirming while I carefully pushed her a little deeper into subspace.
In two minutes, she was hogtied on the bed and quietly fantasizing about what happened during our game and explaining her thoughts. She was deep into the mode and loving it more than she could express. I experienced a different high called domspace, which is the same thing but from domination! It's not as deep or lasting, but it's magical and unforgettable. Crazy, goofy, lovable girls we are; I deserve a round two with Jenny's socks in my mouth… hee hee heeeee!
I listened to Jenny while untying her fingers and toes first. Seeing someone be so happy from a session is truly the most fulfilling thing I can experience as a dominatrix with nothing else like it. Every couple of minutes, I put Jenny through two spanks to prolong her subspace. She squealed loudly and told me to stop. The subspace, of course, faded more quickly as each piece came off her body. Her fingers, toes, and hair were free, and I lowered her legs from the hogtie.
"Mmmmmmm, I like this," Jenny quietly remarked, "Mary-Ann, thank you for this."
"You're very welcome. I enjoyed it, and so did your cousin."
"How do you like my old catsuit? I promise you it's clean," Kendra crouched by us.
"I kind of like it. It's comfortable and fun. I feel like a cute Gangsta Spy or something."
"You should," I remarked to my most peculiar captive, "You're a cute Gangsta Princess."
"Heh heh," she laughed, "Will you keep it for future games?"
It was my turn to smile broadly. "Of course! I was hoping you'd want to keep it!"
Jenny smiled and squirmed in my rope work. I loved my sweet, idiosyncratic, and adventurous friend. She had wasted none of her opportunities this evening, and she was still as determined as ever despite being so much calmer. She acted like she could escape, but deep down in her heart she knew she was really struggling for my and Kendra's entertainment and to chase the awesome feeling of helplessness. What a thrill it is to have this one captive in my heart! Since the day I met her, I knew she was different, and a beautiful soul is there under all of her rope bunny thrills.
Now it was time for the adventure to end. I had to untie the adorable little Gangsta Princess and get her back into her own clothes, give her a snack, and send her on her way. We both knew that this game would stay in our minds for a long, time to come. With a promise to meet again soon, I watched the rope bunny leave and turned back to my roommate.
"That was great."
Now, if you will excuse me, I have a secretary to kidnap.
