Stories of Tie Up Games

For @AmyRush

Amy was a creature of solitude, often relishing the quietude of her own company. Her apartment, a cozy cocoon nestled in the concrete jungle of the city, was a sanctuary from the relentless buzz of the outside world. Today, the air was cooler than usual, and she had thrown on a pair of comfortable shorts and a simple tank top. No need for the restrictive embrace of a bra or the confinement of panties; the day was hers to do with as she pleased, or rather, to do nothing at all. So decadent and relaxed was she thatbthe sweat still gkistened in her body from her workout and her redish auburn hair, free from its pony tail, now hung loose and still damp,with sweat. But she was alone today:who was she trying to impress?

As the morning stretched into afternoon, she found herself succumbing to the siren call of a lazy nap. The couch, with its familiar grooves and worn spots, beckoned to her weary body like a lover. Her bare feet were silent on the floor as she abked over to her cozy haven and let herself sink into the soft upholstery. She curled up into a ball, the plush fabric enveloping her like a warm embrace. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting a warm amber hue across the walls and floorboards. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted into the realm of sleep with a contented sigh.

Her dreams, however, were anything but tranquil. They began as a whimsical romp through a field of flowers, barefoot and braless, but soon transformed into a darker narrative. A shadowy figure emerged from the periphery of her mind, tall and imposing, with a mysterious allure that both terrified and fascinated her. Yhe mystery woman in black was a kidnapper, the star of her subconscious fantasy, and she was the object of her desire. The thrill of the chase, the fear of the unknown, and the illicit thrill of captivity began to weave themselves into her slumber.

The woman in black approached, her eyes gleaming like polished pearls under the mask. She moved with the grace of a predator stalking its prey, and Amy felt a strange mix of anticipation and dread. Before she could react, the woman's hands were on her, strong yet gentle, lifting her off the ground. She didn’t struggle; instead, she found herself leaning into the embrace, her heart racing as the kidnapper's breath tickled her ear with sweet whispers of submission.

The rope was cool and smooth against her skin, almost tender as it began to wind around her wrists and arms behind her back. The woman's fingers worked deftly, tying knots that were both intricate and unyielding. Each loop and pull of the rope sent a shiver down Amy's spine, tightening the bonds of her new reality. The scent of the material, faintly pungent and earthy, filled her nostrils, anchoring her in the moment. She could feel the fibers digging into her flesh, a stark contrast to the softness of the couch she had just been lying on.

The woman in black spoke in a hushed voice, her words a seductive purr that seemed to resonate within Amy's very soul. "Don't struggle, my pet. The more you fight, the tighter the ropes will become." Her breath was warm and sweet, carrying the scent of strawberry and a hint of something darker, something that made Amy's stomach flutter with a mix of fear and excitement. The ropes grew tauter as she bound her captive's ankles and knees together, the tension causing her legs to quiver slightly as the cords criss-crossed her lower limbs jn an intricate diamond pattern that mweged with the nerwork around her arms and chest.

With each pass of the rope, the woman in black's eyes never left Amy, a silent promise of the thrills and terrors to come. Amy could feel the heat of her own breath quickening, her chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as the fabric of her tank top clung to her damp skin. The sensation of the ropes tightening was oddly comforting, like the embrace of a lover who knew exactly how much pressure to apply to elicit a whimper of pleasure and a gasp of pain.

Her nipples, already pert from the cool breeze of the open window, grew harder as the rope caressed her sensitive flesh. The material of her top grew damp with a combination of sweat and arousal, turning it almost transparent. The ropes circled around her breasts, cinching tighter and tighter until it was clear to see the outline of her areolae, a stark pink against the stark white fabric. The sensation was foreign yet exhilarating, a dance of pain and pleasure that had her body responding in ways she had never imagined.

The woman in black stepped back to admire her handiwork, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Beautiful," she murmured, her eyes lingering on the way the ropes framed Amy's ample chest. The rope between her legs was pulled taut, creating a sharp tension that made her gasp. It felt like a cheese wire slicing her in two, a constant reminder of her vulnerability and the woman's control. Her crotch rope had been wound so tightly that it was practically embedded in her flesh, creating a sensation of fullness and pressure that was both uncomfortable and strangely arousing.

The woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of wooden clothes pegs. They clicked together in a way that made Amy's skin crawl, the mundane object now a tool of erotic torment. She watched with a mix of fascination and dread as the woman approached her, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now for the final touch," she whispered, her breath hot against Amy's skin as she leaned in close.

With a deft pinch, she attached the first peg to Amy's left nipple, pulling the fabric of the tank top taut. The sharp bite was unexpected, and Amy's breath hitched in her throat. The pain was intense, a sudden flare of heat that shot through her body, making her toes curl and her eyes water. The woman waited, allowing the sensation to settle before moving to the right, repeating the process. The pinch was accompanied by a twist this time, and Amy's back arched involuntarily.

Sensing Amy's growing arousal, the woman in black leaned in to whisper, "You're somcute all tied yp like this my pet. Just a few more, and then you're all mine." The anticipation was palpable, a thick tension that coiled in Amy's belly like a serpent waiting to strike.

Without warning, a soft, velvet blindfold was secured around her eyes, plunging her into a world of darkness. The sudden loss of sight heightened her other senses, making the cool breeze from the open window feel like a lover's breath against her skin. She could hear the rustle of the woman's clothing as she moved, the sound of the ropes tightening, and the gentle squeak of her captor's boots. The scent of strawberries grew stronger, and she knew the woman was close, studying her, reveling in the power she held.

A gag, soft and wet, was forced into her mouth next, the taste of leather mingling with the metallic tang of the cloth. It filled her mouth completely, cutting off any protest or sound she might have made. Her jaw grew sore from the intrusion, but she found that she didn't want to protest. Instead, she felt a strange sense of submission, a willingness to be taken to whatever fate awaited her. The ropes that bound her were now her lifeline, her connection to the outside world, the only thing keeping her from floating away on the waves of her own desire.

The woman in black picked her up with surprising ease, her strong arms cradling Amy's body as if it were the most delicate of treasures. Each step she took sent a new jolt of excitement through Amy, the ropes digging deeper into her skin with every movement. The world outside the apartment was a blur of sounds and smells, the muffled cacophony of the city replaced by the steady thump of her own heartbeat in her ears.

The journey to the van was a whirlwind of sensation. The engine's rumble vibrated through her body, the cool metal floor beneath her sending shivers up her spine. She was laid down carefully, the ropes adjusted to allow no movement and certainly no degree of comfort. The gag remained in her mouth, the taste of leather a constant reminder of her silence. Amy was placed in a very tight hogtie, wrists bound to crotch rope, ankles to elbows, and big toes toed to the apstap of her leather gag. The van door slammed shut, and they were off, the world outside reduced to a distant murmur.

Is this a dream or reality? Will one become the other? Brilliant descriptions.

Amazing writing, the way you've described everything: the bondage but also the ladies involved, really well done.

A very vivid daydream

This is phenomenal work! It’s artistry! I will read this again and again! I will try to write about the emotions that it evokes, but I seriously doubt that I can match your quality. Thank you!

Part two for @AmyRush

WARNING HIT LESBIAN SEX

Amy lay there, bound and blindfolded, her body a canvas of sensation. The ropes that held her felt like living things, tightening and loosening with her breath, the leather gag a constant presence that filled her mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest, the muffled thud echoing in her ears as the van's engine roared to life. The floor beneath her was cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm embrace of her apartment couch. She felt the van shift and sway as it navigated the city streets, each bump and turn sending a new ripple of discomfort through her body.

As the journey went on, the road grew increasingly rough, the smooth asphalt giving way to an uneven mess that jarred her with every bounce. The van jolted and jerked, the ropes around her body cutting into her skin with each new pothole they encountered. She bit down on the gag, trying to muffle the whimpers that escaped her throat. The pain was intense, but it was also a strange kind of pleasure, a reminder of the power dynamics at play.

Finally, the van came to a jarring halt. The woman in black climbed over her, her weight pressing Amy into the metal floor. The door slid open, and a rush of cool air filled the space, carrying with it the scent of pine and earth. Her heart racing, she was hoisted into the air once again, the ropes digging into her skin as she was pulled from the van.

The ground beneath her bare feet was uneven and unforgiving, the sharp rocks and gravel biting into her soft soles as she was forced to hop along. The woman in black had released her hogtie, but the ropes remained tight around her wrists and ankles, the pegs still clamped onto her nipples. Each painful step brought a new wave of agony, but also a strange thrill that coursed through her body. The cool evening air whispered across her exposed skin, sending goosebumps rising in its wake. She was spanked several,times to make sure she didn’t dawdle.

The door of the caravan creaked open, and Amy was pushed inside with surprising gentleness. The sudden warmth and the cushioned floorboards were a stark contrast to the harshness of the outside world. She heard the door close with a finality that made her stomach drop, the sound of a lock clicking into place. The caravan was dimly lit, the flickering light of a candle throwing eerie shadows across the walls but Amy’s blindfold remained firmly in place. The space was cramped, but it felt oddly cozy, like a cocoon of darkness that she had been placed into for her metamorphosis.

The woman in black was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Her hands roamed over Amy’s bound body, exploring every curve and contour as if she was mapping a new land. Her touch was both tender and demanding, sending a cascade of emotions through Amy. The sharpness of the knife was a cold shock and reminder of her vulnerability, a thrilling counterpoint to the softness of the caress.

With a swift, decisive motion, the woman sliced through the fabric of Amy’s tank top, the sound of the blade cutting through the material sending a thrill down her spine. The coolness of the metal was a stark contrast to the heat of her skin, and she felt the fabric part, the ropes around her breasts and stomach suddenly exposed. The air hit her bare flesh, and she couldn’t help but shiver. The pegs remained in place, the painful tension unchanged.

The woman in black paused for a moment, her hand hovering just above Amy’s skin, the blade glinting in the candlelight. She leaned in closer, her breath hot on Amy’s neck as she whispered, "You're so beautiful, my pet. Soon, all of you will be mine to see." With a flick of her wrist, she sliced the poor woman’s shorts off, and they fell away, leaving Amy’s bottom and pussy bare and vulnerable.

Amy could feel the woman’s eyes on her, a ravenous hunger that seemed to devour her very soul. Her hands, now free of the fabric barrier, traveled over Amy’s curves with an insatiable curiosity, tracing the lines of her body with a possessiveness that made her quiver. The ropes bit into her skin, a reminder that she was utterly at the mercy of this mysterious figure.

The woman’s voice was a low purr as she whispered sweet nothings into Amy’s ear, her words a delicious mix of seduction and mockery. "Look at you, all trussed up like a little animal, ready for the slaughter." Amy’s body responded with a jolt of arousal, her skin tingling wherever the woman’s fingers danced.

"You’re so vulnerable, my sweet," the woman in black continued, her hands tracing the lines of the ropes that bound her. "You can’t even move to stop me. You’re completely at my mercy."

Her words were followed by a sharp pinch on one of Amy’s nipples, the pain sudden and intense. She gasped, her body arching involuntarily, the pegs on her breasts digging in deeper. The woman chuckled, the sound low and throaty, and Amy felt her other nipple receive the same treatment. The pinching grew rhythmic, each one sending a bolt of electricity through her body. The pain was exquisite, a symphony of sensation that had her writhing against the ropes.

Her feet were not spared from the woman’s attentions. The kidnapper’s fingers danced over her bare soles, tickling the sensitive skin until she couldn’t help but squirm and giggle. The gag muffled the sound, turning her laughter into a series of whimpers that seemed to only amuse her captor further. The sensation was maddening, a mix of pleasure and torment that had her toes curling in response. Each giggle turned into a moan as the woman’s touch grew more insistent, her nails scraping gently against the tender flesh. “Ooooooh. Are your feetnticklish?” The woman shrieked with a faked school girl’s excitement.

The woman in black’s touch grew firmer, her nails digging into the soft pads of Amy’s feet, sending bolts of pain that shot up her legs. Amy’s body jerked in response, the ropes creaking and tightening around her. The pinching grew more intense, her nipples now a throbbing ache that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. She could feel the woman’s breath against her skin, her mouth close to her ear. "You like that, don’t you?" she taunted, her voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down Amy’s spine. "You're such a good little pet, aren’t you?"

The spanking began, slow and measured at first, the sound echoing through the confines of the caravan. Each smack grew progressively harder, the sting of the woman’s palm against her bare skin setting her ass on fire. Amy’s moans grew louder, the pain melding with the pleasure until she couldn’t tell the difference. Her legs quivered, her bound form writhing on the floor as the woman’s hand rained down blows that grew steadily in force and speed. The rhythmic thud of flesh meeting flesh filled the air, the smack of skin and the muffled cries of the gag a symphony of dominance and submission.

The woman’s fingers moved to her pussy, probing gently, the sudden intrusion making Amy gasp around the gag. She was wet, her body betraying her fear with a slickness that seemed to invite more. The woman’s digits danced over her clit, teasing and stroking, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that crashed over her. The kidnapper’s touch was expert, a maestro conducting the orchestra of her body. She felt a finger slide into her, the sensation of being filled both terrifying and exhilarating. The woman chuckled, her voice a dark delight as she whispered, "You’re so wet for me, aren’t you, pet? You really love this dont you?”

Amy’s body responded, her hips bucking slightly with each thrust of the invading digit. The woman added a second finger, stretching her wider, the sensation bordering on pain but she was too lost in the moment to care. The pinching of her nipples grew more intense, a punctuation to the strokes of her clit. The woman’s thumb began to circle her anus, the pressure building until it was almost unbearable. The sensation was new, the feeling of fullness overwhelming as she was penetrated in a place she had never been before. The woman’s other hand was busy playing with her pussy, her fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that made her entire body convulse.

The woman in black leaned in, her voice a sultry whisper in the dark. "You're going to come for me, aren’t you, pet? You’re going to scream your release into this gag and let me feel it." Her words were a command, a promise that sent a bolt of lust through Amy's body. The woman’s thumb pushed into her ass, the sensation of fullness and vulnerability sending her up to the edge. Her orgasm was a hair’s breadth away as she anticipated the crescendo, a wave that would crash through her, leaving her gasping for air, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. But at the last moment, the woman stoppedleaving her frustrated and empty.

The anticipation was maddening, the denial a sweet agony that made her ache for more. The woman’s voice grew softer, a gentle croon that washed over her like a warm bath. "That wasn't bery nice was it?

Amy's body was a taut bowstring, every muscle quivering with need. She screamed into her gag, the muffled sound a desperate plea for release. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she bucked against the floor, her legs straining against the ropes that held her in place. Her breath was ragged and uneven, her chest heaving with the effort of each gasp. The pegs on her nipples felt like they were on fire, the pain a constant throb that only served to fuel her arousal.

Yhe woman laughed at her. “Look at you all hot and bothered. But there’s nothing you can do abiut it. If imdont want you to come that’s my choice not yours. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

Yep! You've totally kept up the VERY high standard, Jan.