Stories of Tie Up Games

And so, Ladies and Gentlemen, to this my latest tale. And again, can you be patient here, please, for this first part does not feature any sex or bondage, rather explaining how that later came about. And although this is mostly fiction, the characters of Rachel and Tom coming from my imagination rather from any recollection on my part, back in the days when i wore a much younger man's leathers, i DID spend many a Friday evening aboard my motorcycle, the very type mentioned in the tale, on the 'Chelsea bridge run.'








I wasn’t one of those blokes who could call themselves a ‘stud’ by any means. At just about five feet and six inches tall I am definitely not the sort of guy that immediately attracted the attentions of the opposite sex, more’s the pity. So, to an extent I’d given up trying, concentrating instead upon the things in life that I could do well. Like riding a motorbike for example.

Now, I’m not claiming here that I could ride to the standard of a Moto GP professional of course, like nearly everybody who rides a bike, I can’t hold a candle compared to one of those obviously, but in my own circles I was definitely the ‘top dog’ when it came to the matter of riding ability. I was part of a group who all rode bikes, and most Friday evenings would participate in an almost ritual of riding up to Chelsea Bridge, one of the many such structures straddling the River Thames in London.

At some point, totally unofficially, a group would set off for the ‘run’ towards Heston services on the M4 motorway heading out of the city. Which became a ‘race’ of sorts, again totally unauthorised naturally, and looking back now, bloody dangerous. Taking place on city streets, well the first part of the journey until the motorway itself was reached. And it was here, that my reputation as someone who could ‘really ride’ was established, as I triumphed in many an unofficial ‘race.’ Yes, yes, I know, on reflection sheer lunacy, how I emerged from those days utterly unscathed and not being seriously injured or even worse, also not receiving an official legal blemish upon my driving licence, I’ll never know. Somehow, I avoided both, however.

One of the other members of my ‘gang’ was Tom West, somebody whom I’d known well since school and had become one of my close ‘mates.’ Who had an older sister, named Rachel, who often accompanied him on these outings, not owning a bike herself.

Said sister was a very big girl, but wasn’t overweight at all, her size being comprised of pure muscle rather than fat. This was a very strong woman, one who worked in the construction industry, whose employment took the form of quite hard, and well-paid, labour. She used that money to purchase a flat of her own, mortgaged naturally, she wasn’t THAT well paid, having ‘flown her parents’ nest as it were. And sure, whilst she couldn’t be described as ‘sexy’ in the normal sense, as I say she wasn’t fat in any manner, her body was extremely well proportioned and she could, quite justifiably, be called attractive. Just big and tall.

Obviously I knew her well, if not intimately, especially after she’d moved out and bought her own place, I now only ever saw her on the occasional Friday evening when she was on the pillion seat of her brother’s bike. She was always friendly towards me, and it seemed to be almost insignificant that she was indeed a female, to me she was simply one of the ‘gang.’ But on one particular Friday night, that situation was to utterly change.

I suppose that one could argue that the actual event that led to this technically occurred on the Thursday evening before, as my mother called me to the ’phone she was holding out, the events I’m describing here taking place during the mid-1980’s, therefore long before the advent of mobile telecommunication devices, shouting, “there’s some girl on the ’phone for you!”

It turned out to be Rachel, who had a favour to ask of me. “Tom has promised to take me on tomorrow’s Chelsea bridge run, but he’s ill with some sort of tummy bug, so probably won’t be going now. Would you mind taking me instead?”

At first, I wasn’t sure, knowing that carrying a passenger would slow me down and cramp my style somewhat, but then she was a ‘mate,’ one clearly needing my help. “Sure, Rach, no problem. Although I’ve never actually been to your pad, so you’d better give me the address.”

She did so. “Hold the line a mo. Rach, I’m just going to get the A to Z.” Of course, not only had the mobile ’phone yet to make an appearance upon this earth, but certainly to the ordinary man, the internet and ‘Goggle Maps’ weren’t available yet. So having retrieved just such a printed paper publication map book, I looked up the address that she had supplied me with. “Rach, I’ve got it, yeah, I know where that is now. Pick you up about seven, that ok with you?” After she had responded positively, I put the ’phone down, our conversation at an end. And thus, Ladies and Gentlemen, the ‘die was cast!’

Then, as now, I was employed by one of those sensible companies whose working week ended at lunchtime on Fridays, with the other four days featuring slightly longer hours in order to compensate for this. Amongst the tasks that I attended to that afternoon, being the required small changes to the suspension settings of my motorbike with carrying a passenger in mind. I was possibly a little bit early when I arrived at Rachel’s home, but she was already waiting outside, it was Summer, and the weather was kind. Wearing her two piece ‘biker’ leathers, although hers were in a shade of white, as opposed to my normal black. She climbed aboard, having placed her helmet upon her head, and we were off.

To not immediately head to Chelsea bridge, but to the pub where the ‘gang’ normally met, had Tom not been indisposed this is where I would normally have rendezvoused with him and Rachel. And, yes, this was a pub, but I always had a policy of restricting myself to one pint of beer only, as did all of the other riders, although much of the riding following was highly reckless and completely illegal, none of us were THAT stupid! Fully recognising that fast motorbikes and large quantities of beer DON’T mix well.

At around ten o’clock, after day had turned into night, off to the ‘bridge’ we set, for the twenty-five or so miles it took, the pub in question being just outside of Dorking, a town on the very edge of the London conurbation.

Although, certainly compared to later on, this ride was comparatively sedate, I used it to become fully acquainted with its extra ‘load,’ and the effect that Rachel’s presence aboard had on the general handling etc. Resolving to take thing easy this evening, not to get carried away, avoiding any unofficial duels and the like. Bearing in mind now, that it wasn’t just my life that was at risk if my right hand had got the better of me.

After we had arrived at the ‘bridge,’ parked up and as usual chatting to other bikers for some time, the then starting of engines announced that the run to Heston was due. And during it I actually managed to execute a fair degree of self-control, that involved not getting mixed up in any ‘shenanigans’ while I was carrying Rachel aboard my machine. To her great dis-appointment though, she knew that I was a much faster, note in those days I would have said ‘better,’ rider than her brother, and she had been looking forward to some action in that regard. Remember we were addressing a real ‘tom boy’ here, one who found high speed exciting rather than frightening.

Which she let me know, in NO uncertain terms when we’d arrived at the services. “Come on, I was expecting some REAL action here, instead you were bloody slower than Tom. I’m looking for you to show me just what you’re made of on the way back, and don’t you worry about me, I CAN handle it!”

Oh Rachel, just be careful what you wish for! Because the thought went right through my head, ‘well she’s ASKED for it……….’ She had made a direct attack upon my ego!

Because for the ‘return’ leg my normal competitive gander was well and truly ‘up,’ just as my passenger had requested of course. I vividly remember riding around the outside of somebody mounted upon the recently released Kawasaki GPZ 600, seen as the direct four-stroke rival to my two-stroke Yamaha RD 500 machine, clocking well over the ‘ton’ ( 100 Mph/160 Kmh ) during one of the bends of the ‘elevated’ section of the M4, completely blowing him away, leaving him, in the language of the day, well and truly ‘burnt.’ Much to the delight of Rachel, who showed that joy with whoops of sheer excitement, proving that her boasts of being able to handle high speeds, weren’t at all empty.

However, whereas just like my own, her blood was REALLY pumping around with sheer adrenaline, her body was also experiencing emotions that mine was not. She was becoming more and more turned-on sexually.

There and then she decided to reward me for treating her to such an exhilarating ride upon my bike, with one in return with her in bed! Of course, she had NO idea of my reticence when it came to the ‘pleasures of the flesh,’ and that, although not a complete virgin, I possessed very little knowledge regarding sex, with nowhere near the level of self-confidence that I displayed towards riding motorbikes, for instance. Maybe while, as she told herself, no normal male would refuse a ‘free shag’ was probably a true enough statement, but then was I just such a red-blooded male?

Having briefly stopped again at Chelsea bridge, it was time to return home. A journey that was once more conducted at highly illegal speeds, bearing mind it was VERY late by now, and the traffic levels were extremely light, high enough to maintain those excitement emotions within my passenger, very much including the ones of a sexual nature.

So, when we arrived at her place she asked, what was in those days almost an unofficial code question for inviting a ‘guest’ in for a shag, “you coming in for coffee?” And I, being so naïve at that precise time, interpreted her question in completely the wrong manner, taking it to literally mean she was inviting me in for a drink, and NO, not of her sexual juices! So instead of politely declining and riding off, which I would have done had I realised just what I was being asked here, I stupidly agreed

Having pushed the bike into her communal back yard, out of sight of the road, into Rachel’s flat we went. Having taken off our leather jackets, I started to wonder as she proceeded to remove more clothing instead of filling the kettle. As she was puzzled by my lack of stripping activity.

“Come on love, get your kit off! The bed awaits!”

“For what?” Yes, I really was THAT naïve.

She still hadn’t clicked that I was. “You can’t give me a right good shag if you’re still wearing your clobber, can you? So, stop your faffing about and strip off!”

The reality of the situation began to dawn upon me. “What the hell are you talking about, Rach? You invited me to come in for a cup of coffee, not for sex! I think I’d better leave right now!” Moving to retrieve my removed jacket, crash helmet and gloves.

The next thing I knew was that a violent shove had sent me crashing into the wall, followed by Rachel pinning my body, face forward against it, grabbing one of my arms and twisting it, painfully, behind my back. No doubt about it, she was FAR stronger than me! Next thing, her voice was in one of my ears, in a such a menacing tone that I’d never heard her use before. “Oh no you don’t, you little worm, I WANT IT AND I’M GONNA GET IT!”

Dear @LunaDog, what a start to an awesome story. Can't wait to see what Rachel wants.

Thanks @Jenny_S As for Rachel's desires, which at this stage are SO different from my narrator's, we'll find out shortly.

Full apologies for the 'shortness' of this posting, buy hey, my writing time has been comprised by me fully watching this weekend's San Marino Moto Grand Prix!



Rachel literally ‘frog matched’ me into her bedroom almost throwing me onto her bed, whilst she retrieved two of the belts from a couple of dressing gowns hanging up there. Next minute, she’d climbed onto the bed herself, clambering onto of my form, which was lying on my back. It didn’t take her long to remove my ‘T’ shirt, like I say it was mid-Summer and warm so that is all I’d been wearing underneath my jacket, and spread my arms out, painfully placing her weight upon them using her knees.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to tie you to the bed then, ’cause one way or another, I’m having a shag now, you’ve got me ALL worked up!” Starting with my left arm, continuing to ‘immobilise’ my right with her knee, she swiftly looped my wrist with one of those belts, and once she’d accomplished that she then tied the remainder around the outer post of the solid and secure bedframe. That arm was going nowhere!

Now Rachel switched her full attention to my other arm, and it wasn’t long before she’d securely tied to limb to the opposite bedpost. She’d captured me, maybe not in any final form but I now could not avoid just what she wanted to do to me. I WAS HERS!

She seemed to fully aware of this fact, as she smiled stating, “you’re not going anywhere now, Darling, ’til I’ve finished with you! So, you might as well just enjoy it!” But there was still work for her to do here. Topless I might well have been, but beneath my waist I was still fully clothed.

Not for long though. Rachel soon removed both of my boots, followed by the socks that I wore inside of them. Next, I was relieved of my leather jeans, ones that matched my jacket, and finally my underpants. That was it then, I was now starkers, but not quite ready for her just yet. She fetched a couple of pairs of tights, tying each one around my ankles. Rachel’s bed had no lower bedframe, but what it did feature was little wheels at the bottom of that end. And it was these that she used to complete my spread-eagled bondage, using the other end of those tights to secure my legs down. I was now completely naked, tied down to her bedroom furniture and completely at her mercy.

Now all of this had somewhat interrupted the process of her removing her own apparel, a task that she now completed. Both of us were now ready, Rachel climbed back onto both her bed, and my body tied to it, and kicked things off by seeking my lips with her own, subjecting them to a kiss.

Not just any old kiss though, no, this was a fully blown ‘snog,’ the like of which I’d never tasted before, soon discovering that, just as Rachel had suggested, I was enjoying it. And to my amazement I was also rapidly becoming aware of something else. Being tied up and helpless, belonging completely to a female, was turning me on like nothing had ever done so before! Maybe, this wouldn’t be SO bad, after all?

For being bound and utterly powerless had one major advantage here, my relative lack of experience within the bedroom became totally irrelevant. It wasn’t me who was required to ‘push things along’ here, if Rachel held all of the power in this situation, so she carried all of the responsibility too! Leaving me to simply enjoy events.

And in a way this was a case of complete role reversal. I had subjected her to a thrilling ride upon my bike, one with me in complete control of the situation, after she had openly questioned my abilities, a challenge that I had met ‘full on’ and satisfied.

Now it was me under her command, she was planning to treat me to some thrills, just in bed and not on a motorbike. And by my initial reluctance, I had issued her with a challenge, one could argue with a reasonable degree of accuracy, that I had questioned her abilities, suggesting that I didn’t consider her good enough to bother myself with going to her bed. How would she respond to this?

To my utter and total delight, with a consummate level of skill in bed, bearing in mind that her ‘sexperience’ wasn’t significantly greater than mine as it rather seemed that we were addressing a lady of considerable natural talent here. And another factor, which soon became apparent, was that just as I was becoming more and more turned on by the fact that I was completely helpless in Rachel’s hands, as her absolute captive, so the levels her own arousal also became extenuated by having complete control over me.

Thus, by sheer fluke, that initial reluctance had comprehensively altered the scenario occurring now. For when Rachel had decided that she wanted me in her bed, those intentions, most definitely, did not extent to the level of tying my body to it, that action only being triggered by my lack of co-operation with such desires. Making her feel almost forced to adopt such tactics, one to both of our utter delight vastly increased the excitement here, if in a completely opposite direction!

Now when I had, fairly recently, lost my virginity it was with a girl who also entered the bed for the first time, except for to sleep of course. With neither of us possessing any meaningful knowledge of just what we were doing, it rapidly descended into a case of us both just ‘fumbling about,’ rather than any serious coupling. And although, very much unlike my female companion, I did actually manage to cum, it was definitely a case of a mere ejaculation rather than one of ecstasy claiming hold of me in any significant manner. All in all, a completely forgettable affair, one that explained why sex was so low within the list of priorities in my life. However, it was to prove nothing like that with Rachel, ‘forgettable’ being to VERY last word I’d use to describe just what she put me through that night!



Once again, i apologise for the 'shortness' of this posting, but be assured, details of just what Rachel gets up to WILL be covered in full soon!

No need to apologize A short post is better than none!

Looking forward to more installments

tiedinbluetights wrote: 1 month ago No need to apologize A short post is better than none!

Looking forward to more installments

Yes, that's very true. At the end of the day, quality should always trump mere quantity.

And have NO fears on that score my good friend, there's PLENTY more to come here.

For when she slipped her, soaking wet, pussy over my cock, which was of a reasonable size, I just had yet to learn how to use it properly, for the very first time her vaginal muscles clamped themselves upon it in such a manner that fully suggested that I WAS going to enjoy this! It felt so good there, so ‘at home,’ that if I didn’t immediately ‘fall in love’ with Rachel there and then, I certainly developed very strong feelings of lust for her.

Feelings that only increased immeasurably as she began to ‘ride’ me. For if ecstasy had not graced her presence upon me during that previous sexual encounter, Rachel now introduced me to her, and in some style! With those aforementioned muscles within her pussy now working their complete magic upon my cock, as she was REALLY pumping me now, things were definitely starting to build up ‘down there,’ in such a way that I’d never been subjected to before, for the first time in my life I was being treated to just what great sex is all about.

So, it wasn’t long before ecstasy paid me a visit, didn’t she just! I suddenly realised that those stirrings that Rachel had induced had become utterly uncontrollable, and if what I’d partaken with that young girl was just a ejaculation, THIS was a fully blown CUM! I felt that I was exploding down there, as my seed became pumped into Rachel’s womanhood, my cries of sheer joy filling her bedroom!

And not just mine. As I have discovered over time, one positive aspect of Rachel’s sublime level of sexual skill is to time her own climax to occur virtually simultaneously with mine, and she proved this ability right from the very start, right now in fact! For her body began to shake, she, unlike me of course, was completely unbound and free to move, my cries of joy became rather overwhelmed by her own. It took some time for either of us to come down from this one, sometime before we were capable of coherent speech for example. And when we had recovered to such a degree, I was still unable to say anything, for Rachel’s lips soon engaged my own as she commenced another long and fully passionate kiss!

The beautiful, beaming smile upon her lovely face told me all I needed to know at the precise moment of time. “Thanks Darling, God I NEEDED that! And I rather sense that you enjoyed yourself too. Just as well, ’cause I’m FAR from finished with you yet!”

Words that would have bought terror to my heart not long ago, when she was busy tying me to her bed for instance, but now were very much music to my ears. Oh yes, now I didn’t WANT her to stop. ‘So, THIS is what sex is all about?’ I was rapidly asking myself. ‘No wonder it’s just SO hyped up.’ Beginning to become fully aware that being Rachel’s helpless sex slave was FAR more exciting than ANY ride upon a motorbike, no matter how thrilling that had seemed.

She smiled at me again. “I’ve just had an idea, Darling, something which might well ‘spice’ things up here. And even if I could just go ahead whether you like it or not, I’m gonna ask you if you mind. I’ve got a black silk scarf somewhere, thing is I guess you’ll be even more turned-on if I use it to cover your eyes, so you can’t see me when I’m ravishing you. Up for it?”

I was. Just like she did, I believed this might ‘spice’ matters up. And if it didn’t, so what? Rachel could simply take it off again. “Yeah Rach, great idea! I’m right up for it!”

It took Rachel a little time to locate that scarf within the room, but once she had, she, very effectively, covered my eyes with it. As I descended into total darkness, she was to ensure that it was a condition I remained within for the rest of my time as her captive, tied to her bed. And, as if to fully show her general competence here, she made sure that she ‘knotted’ it on the side of my head, meaning I didn’t have to lie with my head on top of it. Yep, we are talking about one CLEVER girl here!

Now totally blind, it wasn’t long before I was hard again, remember I was young, and she set about me again, with me being completely unable to view her side of proceedings this time. And just as she had predicted, THAT only added to the utter exhilaration of the occasion. Yet again she bought us both to a thrilling climax, possibly even greater than the first one, and once more our cries threatened to bring the bedroom ceiling down on top of us. Hoping the people in the flat above were heavy sleepers, they sure as hell needed to be!

Rachel continued the ‘action’ for well over an hour, after which even her own considerable levels of strength were failing. During that time, she had skilfully bought us both to thrilling climax after thrilling climax, as she proved that her abilities between the sheets were far in excess beyond mine with a motorcycle twistgrip in my right hand. Establishing beyond doubt that my previous beliefs that being in the saddle of my bike was THE most exciting place in this whole world, was NOTHING compared to my ‘Rach’s’ bed, as I now fully accepted!

And those annoying periods when I’d just ‘shot my load,’ needing to ‘re-charge? If I thought I’d be getting any rest and respite during those times I was soon to learn otherwise, and in NO uncertain terms!

Oh no! For this utterly accomplished female used those periods to introduce my mouth with the nipples of her tits, along with acquainting that organ, together with my tongue with her pussy and clitty. Where another of my previous beliefs needed to be re-visited. Up until that night, I’d felt that nothing compared with a good King Prawn Madras in the taste stakes. Now there was a new number one in that regard, Rachel’s sexual juices!

However, once she was almost spent, she called a, reluctant, halt to matters, removing the scarf that had acted so well as a very effective blindfold, and untied me from the bed. After a quick visit to the bathroom, we returned to the bed, where we both so shattered that, apart from some gentle kissing and cuddling, no further sexual action occurred. Yes, we were both THAT finished!

However, as we both awoke the next morning, after the sun had already announced its presence to the world, it proved to be a case of her awakening before myself. For as I did so, I became aware that one of my wrists was now back in bondage, firmly tied to the bedpost once more, and Rachel was busy performing the task of imprisoning my other arm! I was HERS once again! And utterly delighted to be so, what a way to in which to start a new day!

Now I’m sure that there’s plenty of ‘barrack room lawyers’ out there reading this who can, quite truthfully, point out that this act was technically being performed without my express consent. And as to what she had done to me last night, well that could be legally classed as nothing less than sheer and utter rape. True beyond any doubt, but do you think I was complaining now? Or whether I was going to seek any legal redress at all? Not on your Nelly, Mister, not on your Nelly!

It's now exactly one year later, well ok, to be pedantic to a ‘nit picking degree,’ it’s one day short of that anniversary as we didn’t enter Rachel’s flat until after midnight on that night, but well, ‘ding, dong,’ today ‘the bells are gonna chime!’ For my good friend, Tom, and I are busy dressing ourselves in full ‘morning suits,’ the kind that are worn for weddings. Mine, to be precise, as Tom is going to be my ‘best man.’ It is his sister that I am marrying, after all!

At her parent’s home my bride is getting into her rather large wedding dress, as I explained before my ‘Rach’ is a BIG girl, if not fat in any way. For that night proved to the start of a very loving and meaningful relationship, one in which, to our utter delight, we discovered that we are SO compatible with each other in so many ways other than just sex.

Naturally that stills occurs on a VERY regular basis. And quite often with me tied to the bed, now with my full consent and agreement of course. For between us we have an unofficial code expression to use if Rachel wishes to commence a sex session in that manner. She simply utters the words into my ear,

Very hot story! Loved it!

Always love a happy ending,l especially with wedding bells

Canuck100 wrote: 1 month ago Very hot story! Loved it!

Thank you. Glad that enjoyed it.

tiedinbluetights wrote: 1 month ago Always love a happy ending,l especially with wedding bells

Quite agree. Thank you.