Emma and Jan (F SELF)

[Janbound]

Emma, a 24-year-old brunette, stepped out of her office building early evening air. The sun was still warm on this June evening, close to the longest day. She adjusted the red scarf at her neck and glanced down at her watch. 4:15 PM. Early finish on a Friday and time to go home, but she felt the strange tug of restlessness. The first few weeks in a new town had been lonely. Her job kept her busy, but the evenings were vast and empty. The cobblestone streets , awkward in her heels, whispered with the promise of hidden gems, of life beyond her small, rented flat.

Turning a corner, Emma saw it. Jan’s Lovely Leaves Bookshop. She’d walked by it every day but had never ventured in. The window was filled with a jumble of books, their spines like a crowd of whispering secrets. A bell jingled as she pushed open the door, the cool, quiet interior a stark contrast to the bustling street outside. The scent of aged paper and dust greeted her, a scent she hadn’t realized she’d missed. Jan looked up, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as she removed her bare feet from her desk and stood to greet the newcomer.

“Hello there, darling!” Jan’s voice was a warm hug, filled with the promise of good stories and even better company. She had a way of making people feel immediately welcome, like they’d known her for years. “You look like you could use a good book to unwind. What’s your flavor?”

Emma scanned the shelves, unsure of what she was looking for. Her heart raced a little – she’d always loved the escape a good book could provide, but it had been a while since she’d had the luxury of leisurely browsing. “I’m not really sure,” she said, her eyes lingering on the spines. “I’ve just moved here for work, and I haven’t had much time to explore yet. Anything to help me feel a bit more at home would be great, I guess?”

“Well it’s over an hour till I close. Local history and guides there.” She pointed “novels over there, and potpouri and novelties at the back.!” Jan smiled and sat back at her desk, swinging her legs up and crossing her ankles, picking up her own book she gave her toes a wiggle. Emma stood for a few seconds , mesmerised by the green nail polish and multiple toe rings then set off to browse.

Her eyes danced along the rows of books, each title whispering a story she hadn’t heard. The shop was cozy, the shelves packed tightly together, leaving just enough space for a single person to slip through. She felt the comfort of being surrounded by stories, by words that had been felt and lived. The floorboards creaked beneath her heels, a gentle serenade to her solitude.

Emma stumbled upon a section titled "Novelties." The books here were smaller, the covers more whimsical and less serious. She chuckled at the titles of one called "The Joy of Socks," but it was another that caught her eye. "Bound to Have Fun" it read, with an illustration of a smiling woman with a scarf tied around her wrist, holding a pen. She reached out to touch the spine, and her cheeks flushed at the realization it was about bondage for beginners. The blush grew deeper as she saw the other titles, "The Joys of Rope." The cover was a simple rope in a sensual coil, and she couldn’t help but wonder what secrets were hidden between the pages.

“Has that tickled your fancy?”

Emma nearly jumped at Jan’s voice, not realizing she’d approached, her bare feet near slientbon the shipopmfloor. She quickly pulled her hand away from the book, feeling her cheeks burn. Jan’s smile grew wider, and she leaned in closer. “It’s a popular one, you know. Some people find it a bit... naughty, but it’s all in good fun!”

“Oh, I, uh... I was just looking around. I’ve never really, you know, tried anything like that before,” Emma stammered, hoping to deflect Jan’s knowing gaze.

Jan chuckled, the sound as comforting as a warm cup of tea. “No shame in that, love. Curiosity is what keeps the world spinning. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find something that unlocks a new side of you, hmm?”

Emma felt a shiver of excitement at Jan’s words. It had been so long since she’d felt anything but the cold, hard reality of her work-filled life. The idea of exploring something new, something that could make her heart race and her cheeks flush, was tantalizing. She looked around the bookshop, feeling the weight of Jan’s gaze on her, and decided she had nothing to lose.

With a deep breath, she picked up "Bound to Have Fun" and "The Joys of Rope." The books felt heavier than their size suggested, filled with the potential of unexplored adventures. She took them to the counter, her heart racing as she met Jan’s knowing smile.

“I see you’ve found some companions for those quiet nights in. I think you’ll find these quite... enlightening,” Jan said, her voice dripping with mischief. She scanned the books, the beep of the barcode reader punctuating the quiet.

“And as a little welcome to the neighborhood, I’ll throw in this for free,” Jan said, placing a small, velveteen bag on the counter. It was the same shade of red as her over exagerated lios. She leaned over and whispered, “Just a little something to get you started. Consider it a housewarming present from Jan’s Lovely Leaves to Jan’s newest leaf... Emma.”

Emma’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe the woman was being so forward, but she was intrigued. The bag looked like it held some kind of adult toy, something she’d only ever bought online with the curtains drawn tight. She felt a strange mix of excitement and embarrassment, but the promise of a secret shared between them made her bite her bottom lip in anticipation.

“Thank you, Jan,” she murmured, taking the bag and tucking it into her handbag. She paid for the books and took her purchases, feeling Jan’s gaze linger on her as she left the shop. The warm evening had turned into a balmy night, and the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers. The books felt like a naughty secret, pressing against her side as she walked, wobbling so much in ghe cobblestone street she carried her heels back, feeling thenwarmmt of the sunkissed path through the soles of her feet.

Back at her flat, Emma set the books and the mysterious bag on her coffee table and poured herself a glass of wine. She’d had a few sips when she couldn’t resist the urge any longer. She reached for the bag and pulled out a delicate, velvety blindfold and a set of soft, silky ropes. Her heart pounded as she held them in her hands, the reality of what they represented setting in.

Emma ordered her pizza for her friday evening meak, then sat on her couch, feet up on the table just as Jan had in her shop. With trembling fingers, she opened "The Joys of Rope" to find it was an autobiographical text, filled with tales of the author, Helen’s, adventures which almost always involved being tied up in some way shape or form. The woman’s words painted vivid pictures of her experiences, her excitement palpable in every page. Emma felt a strange kinship with her, a shared yearning for something beyond the ordinary.

The stories grew steamier as the pages turned, detailing encounters that ranged from playful games as her children’s histage, to intense, and she found herself drawn to the chapter titled "Alone but Not Lonely." This was where Helen talked about how she had tied herself up on occasions, and the safety measures needed to avoid potential pitfalls. Emma’s eyes devoured every word, her heart racing faster with every paragraph. Helen even referenced the book, "Bound to Have Fun," which soon laid open beside her, serving as a visual guide to the written word, its glossy pages showcasing various ties and knots with step-by-step instructions.

Emma’s hand hovered over the silk rope, the fabric whispering against her skin. She took another sip of her wine, feeling a delicious warmth spread through her body, and decided it was time to act on her curiosity when suddenly her door bell rang.

Her heart leapt into her throat. She wasnkt expecting visitrs, outside work knew no kne yhen suddenly realised that she had told Jan where she lived. Could it be her, delivering a more “personal” welcome to the neighborhood? She peeked through the peephole and saw a delivery guy with a box. Her heart rate returned to normal, but her excitement didn’t wane. She paid for the pizza, with a generous tip, her eyes never leaving the rope on her coffee table. The aroma of melted cheese and spicy sauce filled the room, mingling with the scent of her wine.

With the pizza box pushed aside and her glass of wine within reach, she slipped off her skirt and blouse, her underwear quickly joining them. She padded to her bedroom and returned now wearing silky crimson ultra short nightie and matching silky panties. She stood before the full-length mirror in her hallway, her breath catching in her throat as she took in her own reflection. Her curves looked softer in the dim light, the shadows playing across her skin like a lover’s touch.

Sitting at the table once more, she took the rope in her hands and followed the step-by-step instructions to tie her ankles, winding the velveteen silly rope six times around and cinching twice between before securing the knot. The feeling of the soft material against her skin was foreign, yet thrilling. Each knot she tied was a declaration of her willingness to explore this new side of herself. The tension grew with each loop and pull, the anticipation building like a crescendo in a symphony. She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, a mix of excitement and trepidation. Next she bo7nd her legs together below her knees.

Emma took a deep breath, feeling the gentle bite of the ropes around her skin. She reached for the blindfold, her heart hammering in her chest. She took one last look around the room, her eyes lingering on the books, the pizza box, and the forgotten wine glass. Then she closed her eyes and slipped the soft fabric over her head. The world around her turned to darkness, heightening every other sensation. She could hear the distant sounds of the city outside her window, the occasional car passing by, and the rustle of pages as she turned them. She revelled in the darkness whilst wiggling her feet and toes for several minutes.

Her hands trembled as she slipped her blindfold up to her forehead and began to read the next chapter, her eyes tracing the words as if they were a map to a hidden treasure. The subject was gags, and how ineffective those often seen on TV and films are. Having read extensively she decided to use the “wrap around gag with stuffing”. Hopping to her bedroom once again, her boobs bouncing under her nightie as she passed her mirror, she retieved a clean white sports sock, then hopped to the kitchen tomretrieve a reel of 2” wide brown parcel tape.

Emma took a deep breath and folded the sock into a small pad. She sat on her sofa, her bare feet on the floor and the ropes cutting into her skin slightly as she leaned forward. She placed the sock between her teeth and began to wrap the tape around her head, holding her hair out of the way, securing it firmly in place. The taste of the tape was bitter and the sticky residue on her lips was unpleasant, but she ignored it, focusing on the thrill that was building inside her. The sock muffled her voice, leaving her with only her thoughts and the sound of her own breathing.

The next instructions were clear but complex as she wrapped ropes around her chest, cinching between arms and sides, pinning her arms to her body. She felt a thrill as she followed them meticulously. Finally, the rope slid over her wrists, the silky fibers whispering against her skin. She pulled the ends tight, feeling the give and take of the knot as it grew taut. The sensation was strange and exhilarating, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. She was both in control and not, a delicious contradiction that sent a shiver down her spine.

Emma took a moment to appreciate the artistry of her bindings. The ropes formed a pattern on her body, like a tapestry of shadows and light. Her breathing grew shallower as she took in the sight of herself, bound and vulnerable. With a final tug, she secured the knot, and the world outside the ropes grew distant.

Her body responded to the sensation, a thrilling mix of restraint and freedom. She began to wiggle, testing the limits of her bonds. The ropes held firm, but they allowed enough movement to keep the thrill alive. Her breasts jiggled with every shift of her body, the fabric of her nightie stretching and clinging to her curves. The friction against her skin was tantalizing, and she couldn’t help but let out a muffled gasp.

The struggle grew more intense as she felt a building heat between her legs. The ropes around her ankles and legs felt like a gentle caress, and she squirmed, trying to relieve the pressure. Her heart raced, and she realized that she was enjoying this newfound vulnerability. The books had been a gateway to a world she’d only ever dreamed of, but now it was becoming a reality, right here in her own flat.

Emma stood shakily, her legs bound and the sock gag in her mouth. The room spun for a moment, but she managed to make her way to the mirror in her hallway. The sight of herself, bound and gagged, was something she had never thought she would see in real life. Her eyes widened, and she bit down on the gag, the softness of the sock muffling her moan. She looked like a picture from one of the books, except this was no illustration—it was her, living and breathing, tied up in her own home.

Her cheeks were flushed from the exertion, and her hair fell in a messy tumble around her face. The crimson nightie matched the color of her bindings, the ropes stark against her pale skin. She wiggled her hips and shook her boobs, watching the ropes dance around her body, tightening and releasing with every movement. Her breath was shallow and ragged, the sound of her own breathing echoing in the quiet of the room.

Emma felt a strange sense of liberation in her binds. Her mind raced with thoughts of what Jan might think if she saw her like this. Would she be proud of her for embracing her curiosity? Would she find it as alluring as the books made it seem? The thought made her stomach flip, and she bit down on her gag, the fabric muffling the whimpers that wanted to escape her lips.

With a giggle, she hopped over to her bed, her bound legs making her movements awkwardly graceful. She bounced slightly, her breasts jiggling with every hop. The sensation was strange, yet exhilarating, like a child playing a game of pretend that had become all too real. Once on the bed, she rolled around, the ropes biting slightly into her skin, leaving red lines that she knew would fade into the night. The sight of herself, sprawled across her bed, legs kicking in the air, was like looking at a living work of erotic art.

Emma managed to get onto her knees, the ropes around her ankles and legs pulling taut as she moved. She leaned over the edge of the bed, her eyes meeting hers in the mirror. She wiggled her hips, watching the ropes shift and tighten with every motion. The sight was intoxicating, and she couldn’t help but reach down to try to touch herself, the fabric of her nightie sliding against her skin but her bound arms would nit ket her fingers reach their target and she felt a thrill as yhe frustration built inside her. The sensation was heightened by the ropes, turning every touch into a symphony of sensation.

Emboldened by her newfound sense of adventure, she hopped back to her small lounge, the ropes around her legs creating a delightful tension with every jump. She braced herself against the couch with her bound arms, her knees hitting the floor with a soft thump. The roughness of the soft caroet sent a shiver through her body, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of her situation. She kicked her legs out, the ropes around her ankles and knees tightening like a pair of naughty Christmas stockings.

Her movements grew bolder, more playful. She rolled from side to side and bounced off the couch, the springs squeaking in protest. The coffee table was next, and she smarted as her kneecap struck the solid wood, screaming in pain into her very effective gag. Each collision brought a new sensation, a new thrill. The ropes hugged her tightly, reminding her of their presence with every bounce. Her breasts jiggled with every movement, the friction of the caroet against her sensitive skin sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Emma’s breath grew ragged as she squirmed on the floor. The books lay forgotten, open pages whispering secrets to the empty room. Her mind raced with scenarios, her imagination painting a vivid picture of Jan’s knowing smile as she watched her. She wondered if Jan had ever felt the same way when she first started exploring this side of herself. The thought of the curvy blonde joining her, perhaps teaching her more advanced techniques, sent a shiver through her body that had nothing to do with the chill of the floor.

After about an hour, she sat back against the sofa, her legs outstretched before her. The ropes had left their marks, red and slightly raised against her pale skin. She felt both tired and alive, as if she’d just run a marathon of pleasure. Her wine glass was half empty, the last of the deep red liquid taunting her from the edge of the coffee table. The room was quiet except for the sound of her heavy breathing, and she felt a strange sense of peace. The ropes had brought her out of her shell, had allowed her to feel something more than the weight of her loneliness.

Emma’s eyes strayed to the book titled "Bound to Have Fun." It lay open, its pages marked by her eager fingers. The next chapter discussed the art of sensory play, and she felt a thrill of excitement. The thought of Jan, with her knowing smile and her bare feet up on the desk, had been a constant presence in her mind as she’d bound herself. What would the woman think if she knew what Emma was doing?

But as her heart raced, Emma’s smile faltered. The realization suddenly struck her she thiught about finishing her glass of wine and reading the next chapter—she was stuck. Her eyes grew wide with panic as she looked around the room, searching for anything that could help her release herself from her makeshift restraints. The ropes had been tighter than she’d thought, and she hadn’t left herself any slack. The knots she’d tied with such care were now a prison of pleasure, holding her captive.

The room grew quiet again, except for the muffled sounds of her breathing and the occasional car passing by outside. She wriggled against the ropes, feeling the fabric of her nightie grow damp between her legs. The struggle was exhilarating, but the fear of being found like this, vulnerable and exposed, began to creep in. She knew she had to get free, but the more she struggled, the more tangled she became.

Emma tried to recall the safety advice mentioned in her book, but her mind was a whirl of panic and arousal. She thrashed her legs and rolled onto her side, the ropes digging into her skin as she attempted to maneuver herself into a position that might allow her to reach the knots with her teeth. Her heart hammered in her chest, each beat a staccato reminder of her predicament and she screamed into the soft folds of her gag.

[MaxRoper]

This is excellent. You’ve done a very good job letting us inside Emma’s head as she explores this new-found aspect of herself, and the hotness factor is off the charts. Thank you for all the work you’ve put into it and for sharing it with us.

But you can’t stop now!

[beeblebrox883]

Amazing story so far. Loved every detail and how you described Emma’s thoughts throughout.
Cant wait to read more!!

[DioA]

Wow, I loved this so, so much. I instantly fell in love with Emma. I’d definitely have to go and rescue her.

[Bandit666]

What a fantastic read this was. I find myself hoping there’ll be another chapter. A chance to see how Emma escapes eventually after some more sensual dialogue. An opportunity maybe to see her interact and become more involved with Jan too.