Terri Asked to be Tied Up (M/F), part 4

[FrustratedBinder]

Those reading along through parts 1, 2, and 3 of this story already know that Terri was curious about bondage and asked me to tie her up. After some discussion, we agreed that we would meet once a month until she tired of the experiment. We had also established ground rules, such as prohibiting me from touching her crotch area or removing her panties. The experiences were not about BDSM, humiliation, or pain. She merely wanted to experience inescapable bondage. As I explained to her, I didn’t think she would feel helpless until I teased or fondled her while bound, which we agreed was acceptable – and desirable.

I wanted each session to be different, so that she would eventually determine what kinds of bondage she preferred – if any. From her reactions to the first three sessions, Terri was finding being bound and teased very enjoyable. In part 1, I tied her to a chair and manipulated her ample, but not overly large, bosom until she experienced an intense nipple orgasm. In part part 2, I tied her in a frog tie and allowed her to wriggle around the room, attempting to rest her girl parts on a wand-style vibrator on the floor, but I turned it off before she could experience an orgasm. In part 3, I tied her spread-eagled on her bed and tickled her to complete exhaustion. In this fourth session, I planned to tie her to a pole and let her squirm for an extended period.

As had become our common practice after the first three sessions, she entered through my back door in her street clothes, carrying a small duffel bag. We sat at the kitchen table and enjoyed a cup of coffee and some small talk.

“I really look forward to these sessions,” she admitted. “Work has been stressful, and I am starting to feel ‘decision fatigue.’ Despite the intensity of the bondage, these sessions provide me with much-needed stress relief.”

“I am glad you are enjoying the bondage. I have tried to make each session different and exciting, not boring.”

“Oh, I have not been bored!” Terri blushed. “In fact, for days ahead of time, I find it difficult to think of anything else but wondering what you are going to do to me next.” She drained the last drops from the bottom of her cup. “I really appreciate the way you tie me inescapably but not painfully. This is everything I had imagined.”

“Well, let’s get to it. Go ahead and change clothes. Today’s session will be in the basement.”

A few minutes later, she emerged wearing a hot pink leotard over white tights with no shoes. I had asked her to wear no bra under the leotard. I didn’t want a wire digging into her during the bondage. I could tell by the way her nipples showed erectly through the pink spandex that she was already getting aroused. Her wavy hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail. She had the vintage-style makeup I had asked her to wear.

I led her to the basement, where I had installed a shiny silver stripper pole for this session. “Oh, my,” she gasped.

“Today, you are going to experience a semi-traditional pole tie. I bought this pole just for you. Is that okay?” She nodded demurely, folding her hands in front of her. As we began each session, she took on a different personality, not subservient, but obedient.

I had her cross her hands behind her back, and I applied a classic square lashing I had learned in scouts. The rope was knotted behind her wrists so that it was entirely out of reach of her fingers. “Make sure that is not painful,” I said, asking her to test the bonds. She smiled and nodded, satisfied that she was now helpless.

I then tied together her ankles, calves just below her knees, thighs above her knees, and thighs just below her crotch with pink cotton rope. As I cinched each of these bonds, her legs became useless, and in fact, I had to stop a few times to grasp her to ensure she didn’t fall over. I like the way the ropes pressed into her soft skin.

I then lifted her and placed her next to and facing the pole. I ensured she was snug to the pole so that it ran up her cleavage, accentuating her boobs. “This is the somewhat non-traditional part,” I said, “A traditional pole tie would have your back against it. I am going to tie you facing the pole. I like the way this accentuates your breasts.”

“Are you going to repeat the nipple orgasm?” she asked hopefully.

“No spoilers,” I teased. I used two-inch-wide belts to astern her snugly to the pole. The first strap ran around her mid-thighs and around the pole. The second bound her ankles to the pole. I ran the third around the small of her back and the pole. I really liked the way the pole pressed into her tummy. The next two straps wrapped around her arms and the pole, one above her breasts and the other below. This really accentuated her cleavage. I didn't want her wearing a bra because I didn't want it to become painful as she was bound facing the pole.

Terri was now bound securely and then strapped to the pole. In the unlikely event she might free her hands, she would still be bound to the pole. Even though the square lashing held her hands, her upper arms, pinioned tightly to her body by the straps around the pole, severely limited her ability to try to escape.

“What do you think?” I asked.

She wriggled a bit, testing her bonds. “There is no way I can get loose without your help.” Terri had a happy, almost euphoric, facial expression as she closed her eyes and smiled. “What are you going to do to me?”

Without a word, I held the red ball gag in front of her face. She merely opened her mouth to receive the gag I inserted gently and then buckled behind her neck. As directed, her lipstick was a bright shade, closely matching the hot pink of her leotard. If she had a mind to do so, she could probably spit out the gag, but she had no desire. I then wrapped a scarf several times around her eyes, knotting it behind her head.

During the tying, the pink leotard had worked its way between her butt cheeks. While I enjoyed the way the white tights stretched over her shapely buttocks, I adjusted the leotard to cover her fanny fully.

Then I walked up the stairs, intentionally heavy-footed to make it clear to her I was leaving her alone. “Enjoy your captivity,” I kidded.

“What?!” The ball gag partially muffled her complaint. I could hear her quiet grunting as she struggled against her bonds.

I let her try to escape for about thirty minutes. I sat on the top basement step where I could see her and make sure she was safe, but with the blindfold, she was unaware of my presence. She struggled mightily to escape, but not as frantically as when I tickled her during our last session. After a while, she made pouty moans through the gag, accepting the futility of her efforts. Drool from the gag dripped off her chin and onto her spandex-encased bosom. I crept back down the stairs, hoping to surprise her, but she heard me coming and cocked her head to one side, mumbling incoherently through the gag. Tied facing the pole instead of with her back to the pole, her head had to face to the left or right, not straight ahead. To turn her head from one side to the other, she had to tilt her head back.

I untied the blindfold. Her eyes had a happy and lustful gleam. I circled her a few times, inspecting her bondage. I was pleased that she was as tightly bound to the pole as when I had walked up the stairs. His wrists showed no signs of impaired circulation. “Is everything okay? No pain? No numbness?” She murmured something I didn’t understand, but the message was clear: she was fine. “Can you move at all? Do you feel helpless?” She moaned her pleasure with her predicament. I caressed her buttocks, eliciting soft, sensual, but unintelligible sounds. I liked the smoothly feeling of her derriere through the tights and leotard. I massaged her shoulders and neck, which were about the only parts of her body to which I had access around the ropes and straps. She cooed softly.

Thinking she had had enough pleasure for the moment, I circled in front of her. I touched her nipples with my forefingers and pushed, slowly increasing the pressure until she growled a complaint through the gag. She tried to pull away, but she was held firmly against the pole, helpless to relieve the pressure on her boobs. Her body stiffened, and she struggled to get away, but she was unable to escape.
I released the pressure and then poked her several more times. She tried to complain, but I just chuckled. “Remember,” I said, “You won’t feel helpless until I do something to you that you don’t want. Remember the tickling.” Her eyes narrowed, and she made some very unladylike comments through her gag.

“Are your boobs and nipples sensitive?” I asked, already knowing the answer from our first session.

“Uh-huh,” she responded.

“Well, let’s maintain that discomfort a bit longer.” I retrieved another strap, this one only an inch wide. I wrapped it around her arms and around the pole. Her boobs were thrust around the pole, extending beyond it. I tightened the strap around her chest. Combined with the straps already above and below her breasts, this new strap squeezed her boobs together and added unwanted pressure on her nipples. Her boobs were “muffin-topped” above and below the strap. The strap was not as firm or deep as my finger had been, but it was mildly uncomfortable, reminding her of her helplessness. I ignored her protests, merely enjoying the way the three straps made her bosom look.
“That should be good for now,” I said as I sauntered up the steps, turned out the light, and closed the basement door. She shouted to me through her gag, and I could hear her grunting and struggling.

I left her like that for another half hour. When I turned back on the light, her head was lolling to one side, and she hung limply, but securely, against the straps around the pole. I think she had begun to doze. When the light came on, she became alert, jerking her head upright and watching me pleadingly as I descended the stairs. To her audible relief, I released the strap across her nipples. They were hard and erect and showed prominently through the leotard. I was glad she was not wearing a bra!

I gently removed the gag. She moved her jaw, loosening her facial muscles.

“Are you still here?” I joked.

“Of course, I am. You are really good at this.”

“How do you like the pole tie?” I asked.

“I am enjoying it. I feel helpless, but it is better than you tickling me to near madness like last time.” I winked at her, and her face became one of fear. “Please don’t tickle me again so soon.”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy it. I was hoping to make this slightly less intense experience, just letting you enjoy the bondage without me messing with you, but I don’t think you feel helpless enough. I don’t think you’ve tried to escape hard enough.”

Her eyes widened, suddenly anticipating some new torment. “I feel plenty helpless. I have tried to escape. Please don’t torture me. My nipples are going to be bruised for a week.” She strained against her bonds.

I held up a soft riding crop designed for beginning bondage games.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

I circled her. “I have really enjoyed the way your fanny looks in that outfit. You have a great rear.” I kept circling. “I think that your butt needs to be punished for giving me impure thoughts.” As I circled behind her, she tried to squirm around the pole to shield her butt, but she was unable to do so.

“We said no pain!” she protested. “That’s against the rules.”

I chuckled. “I think if you review the rules, you’ll be reminded that I am allowed to fondle and tease your boobs and spank your fanny.” That is why I was able to use the riding crop to swat her rear to keep her hopping around my couch several times while tightly bound.

“Oh… Yeah.”

I flicked my wrist, striking one of her butt cheeks with the crop. She squeaked and struggled. Her cheeks jiggled a bit with every swat. Being made for beginner bondage, the crop was soft and caused no real pain, just a mild sensation designed to remind her that she was helpless. I spent a few minutes repeatedly swatting her derriere while she protested. “Stop! Ouch! Stop! You made your point. I am helpless.”

Through the stretched white tights, I could see her fanny getting rosy. I inspected it closely, swatting any areas that remained milky colored until her entire fanny glowed. I laid my hands on her butt cheeks, feeling the warmth.

Today, “curvy” has become code for overweight and out of shape. Terri was curvy in a traditional sense. She had a thin-waisted, hourglass figure and a derriere like a 1940s movie starlet. Her bosom was ample and firm, but not overly large. I began to swat her already glowing rear with my hand, enjoying the way her cheeks and boobs jiggled.

I stood in front of her and began to tease her nipples, rubbing my fingers gently across them and around her areolas. They were hard! “Wow,” she purred, “My God! They are incredibly sensitive right now. I don’t think it will take long for you to give me another nipple orgasm.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked as I continued to caress her nipples, giving them the occasional gentle squeeze. Her nipples were erect and showed prominently through the pink leotard.

“Yes, please,” she replied.

As here breathing changed and she was becoming very aroused, I stopped abruptly. “I don’t think you’ve struggled hard enough to escape to deserve an orgasm, I taunted.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“I have a few errands to run. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Don’t leave me like this!” She renewed her frantic struggles. She called my name as I sauntered up the stairs. “Come back! I can struggle harder. See? Please come back!” I flicked off the lights, leaving her in darkness. “Please!” she shouted, “You can break the rules. You can do anything you want. Please let me have an orgasm. Don't leave me alone!” I closed the basement door to the sound of Terri’s primal shouting.

I made noise leaving the house, even starting my car and driving around the block. I crept back into the house so that I could hear her in the basement. Occasionally, she would shout for help. “Is anyone up there? Please help me.” She didn’t sound sincere, more like she was acting her role in the bondage game, so I made no move to release her.

I let her enjoy her bondage for another half hour before I walked back into the basement. I unstrapped her from the pole and unbound her legs, but I kept her hands tied behind her back. Her knees were wobbly, so I carried her up the stairs. I sat her on the couch and fed her some water through a straw. I laid her on her stomach across my lap and massaged her upper thighs, buttocks, shoulders, and neck while we watched a movie together the rest of the afternoon. Her fanny was still warm. She didn’t ask me to untie her hands for quite some time until she needed to use the lavatory.

Terri adds:

When I originally asked him to tie me up, this session was very much what I had imagined. This was soft, painless, but inescapable bondage. Except for the light swats on my fanny, this was bondage, not S&M, whips and chains, humiliation, or any of those darker aspects of BDSM. I enjoyed the feeling of being helpless.

It was interesting facing the pole. When I think of being tied to a pole, I think of my back against it. This position gave him full access to my breasts and rear, and he took advantage of that access. I did not enjoy it when he pressed my nipples. It felt like his fingers were going to come out of my back. It hurt, and it made me try to pull away, but of course, I couldn’t do that. As he has said several times, I don’t feel fully bound and helpless until he does something like that to make me want to escape.

I am not the kind of girl who ogles herself in the mirror. I think I look pretty good, but I’m not a cover girl. Whether it was the excitement of being tied up or the pole thrust in my cleavage, I liked the way this position accentuated my breasts and made them look larger. My nipples became incredibly sensitive. When he started playing with them, I think I was just a few minutes away from another incredible nipple orgasm, but then he stopped. How cruel! I was sincere when I shouted that I would let him break the rules and play with my crotch. I was desperate. I would have done anything to get loose and help myself to an orgasm. Does my willingness to let him break the rules while I am in the middle of a bondage session make me slutty or weak-willed?

Being left in the dark and thinking he had gone made me feel very vulnerable. Every little noise was accentuated. I thought I heard someone tiptoeing around upstairs, but I couldn’t be sure if the sounds were from him, an intruder, or my imagination. He had told me once that the lady next door had a key so that she could bring in his mail when he was away for business. I was frantic that some stranger would find me tied up in the basement. How embarrassing! I really did try to release myself with all my strength, but the bonds didn’t loosen even a little. I tried to decide if it would be worse to be found like this by a man or another woman.

I have come to enjoy the final minutes of these bondage sessions. He massages my sore muscles, and we chat a little about what I liked and didn’t like. I could often see the wheels turning in his head as he was planning the next session. He left my hands tied through most of a rom-com while he caressed my body, helping me to relax. I really feel sexy when he massages me while I’m tied up. I think he enjoyed the smooth feel of my body through the spandex.

I really wanted him to fondle my breasts and help me have an orgasm, but he refused, taunting me. “Maybe next time,” was all he would say on the subject. I didn’t care about next time. I had a burning desire for sexual release, and my girl parts were quite aroused. I made all kinds of unladylike offers if he would let me cum, but that only made him chuckle. “Shhh. You’re missing the movie.” I have come to realize that that is what makes bondage sessions like this so intense – not torture or pain but the unfulfilled sexual desires and my inability to do anything about it while helplessly tied with just enough discomfort to make it clear I am defenseless. I remained tied in his power for most of the afternoon before I asked to be unbound.

[RopeBunny]

Definitely holds up to the previous three

Great chapter, do love a pole tie, but rarely is it done this way around, made for a nice twist to things.

[FrustratedBinder]

Thanks for the support. There haven't been very many readers or replies to these stories, so I wasn't sure if I should continue.

[RopeBunny]

There haven't been very many readers or replies to these stories, so I wasn't sure if I should continue.

This guide should provide some useful tips, certainly I've read and taken parts of it on board.

viewtopic.php?t=13275

Additionally though I'll say that certainly for me, and most likely for other authors on the site, the writing itself provides pleasure. It's great to receive comments but you should be writing because you want to, too. After all none of us are being paid for this.

[TightsBound]

Loved this chapter! I personally loved her attire in this one. Excellent strictly tying with a classic pole tie flipped on its head. Though I do wonder how long he’s going to be able to follow his own rules before he finally gives her that orgasm she keeps begging for . Thanks for writing!

[StringTheorist]

Thanks for the latest Terri story. I've enjoyed them all.

Terri is being left on the brink.

You've got an interesting format. You'll have to get something nice in the end for yourself.

ST

[latin-self-bound]

I liked this chapter. Very well narrated and the events are really unpredictable, and that makes the story much more enjoyable. I love the development shown by the 2 characters, and the creativity of the rigger. I'm looking forward to the next chapters.