Terri Asked to be Bound (M/F), part 9

[FrustratedBinder]

Readers will recall that Terri asked me to tie her up, and we agreed to meet once a month. During our last session, I had tied Terri into two different positions and tickled her. The previous session had involved intense edging with a wand-style vibrator, so I went with a less intense, more relaxed bondage. I intended to use the wand again this time.

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 four sessions, she 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 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 part 4, I bound her in a unique tie facing a pole instead of with her back to it. In part 5, Terri had asked for a slight modification to her rules that would allow me to stimulate her clitoris with a vibrator, while still prohibiting other touching of her girl parts, and kind of penetration, or removing her panties. In part 6, I tied Terry in a bottom-up tie against a pole. In part 7, I tied her ankles to her wrists and spread her legs wide, edging her for over an hour before I finally let her have an orgasm. Afterward, she curled into a fetal position and sobbed uncontrollably. In part 8, I tied her in a sort of ball position and also a hogtie.

Terri arrived on time at the back door wearing her street clothes and carrying the small duffle. She sat at the kitchen table to a waiting cup of tea. After some small talk, I asked, “Are your girl parts more sensitive when I tie your legs together, like the pole tie, or when they are spread apart?”

She thought about that a moment before she responded. “When you tie me up and stimulate me, it is always more sensitive than if I try to stimulate myself.”

“That’s not really an answer. Are you more sensitive when your legs are stretched apart or bound closely together?”

“I don’t know if it’s mental or physical.” She stared sheepishly into her cup. “When my legs are spread, I feel more vulnerable and excited, so, yes, my – uh, girl parts are more sensitive.”

“I thought you’d say that. I have an intense bondage planned for you today. Are you ready?”

Her face flushed a bit. “I hope so.”

A few moments later, she emerged from the guest room wearing a smooth, black, molded-cup bra and shiny black spandex panties over sheer black tights that hugged her legs and buttocks enticingly. Barely visible against her soft mound between her thighs was the small, remote-controlled vibrator we had used in previous sessions. The device is light blue, about four inches long. There is a nub on one end that is supposed to press on her clitoris.

She held her arms out to her sides. “Do you like?”

“Very much. You are a beautiful woman, Terri, and you're even more beautiful in bondage."

I guided her to the hassock in the family room to begin binding her upper body. I had her continue to hold her arms straight out to her sides as I first bound her chest. I formed a lark’s head in the center of her back. I made three wraps under her breasts, each wrap going through the lark’s head formed by the previous wrap and then wrapping in the opposite direction. I continued in the same manner above her breasts. She confirmed that she could feel the ropes compressing her chest but not constricting her breathing. I ran the rope over her shoulders and between her breasts, cinching together the ropes above and below her breasts, squeezing them gently to cause no pain but firmly enough to be a constant reminder that she was tied up.

I had her cross her wrists behind her back and applied a square lashing to tie them securely, but not painfully. She was going to be tied for quite some time, and I didn’t want to cut off the circulation to her hands. She was now helpless. I watched the stress of her job drain from her face as she began to experience the euphoria and release of responsibilities that bondage gave her. As she had said before, now that she is in my power, she is free to enjoy whatever I do to her without being responsible for her actions or responses.

I attached thick leather cuffs to her ankles. These wraps covered her entire foot and were designed to suspend someone upside down with minimal discomfort. This was her first view of them, and she wasn’t sure what they were for. I just smiled. These cuffs made it difficult to walk, so I carried her to the bed, where I had already placed the piano bench. I laid her across the bench and then locked the ankle cuffs to a four-foot-long cutoff broom handle with heavy-duty eyebolts screwed into the ends. This spread her legs about as far as she could manage without discomfort.

“Is this why you asked if I preferred my legs together or apart?”

“Yes.” I laid her back on the bed so that her fanny was on the edge and her shoulders lay on the piano bench. Her shoulders were about six inches lower than her hips. I thought that just lying on her back on the bed would have her arms tied behind her back, and this position would provide much less pressure on them. Since the bench is lower than the mattress, she arched her back, accentuating her hips and loins. A bonus! I ran a piece of rope from one end of the spreader bar around the legs of the bed to the other end of the spreader bar.

“How do you feel?”

She struggled vigorously against her bonds and then sighed, “I feel completely helpless, vulnerable, sexy, and horny.”

“But no pain? No numbness?”

She shook her head, her loose ponytail whipping around. “I don’t think I could get loose in a hundred years, but I am in no pain.”

“Can you sit up?” I asked. Her fanny was just at the end of the bed.

She writhed, struggling to do a sit-up. “I don’t think so…”

Without warning, I touched the phone app, and the remote-controlled vibrator came to life at its lowest setting. She squeaked a little and then closed her eyes, a smile on her face.

I then pressed my fingers into her exposed sides and tickled her.

“Ah!” she screamed in surprise. “What are you doing?!” She laughed loudly. "Stop!" She sat up quickly, her ponytail swinging over her shoulders and whipping her face.

“I thought you could do a sit-up… with the proper encouragement.”

I helped ease her down so that her back was arched and her shoulders rested on the piano bench again.

“Fifteen more.”

“What?”

I tickled her belly, “encouraging” her to sit up and then eased her back, counting, “Fourteen… Thirteen…”

She had a trim body, but I know from my workouts that these kinds of sit-ups are difficult, particularly with her arms tied behind her back.

“Why are you being so mean to me?” she asked through bursts of laughter.

I stopped at six, concerned. “Do you think I’m being mean? Do you want me to stop? I thought we agreed that you felt more tied and helpless if I did things to you that you couldn’t stop.”

“You are being mean, but I like it.” She grinned, a little embarrassed. “I’m not asking you to stop molesting me; I am just getting into the role.”

“Remember the safe work,” I said, and I tickled her sides and tummy. “Five.” She was panting, her skin glistening with perspiration, by the time I counted “Zero.” As she recovered her breathing, I strapped the red ball gag into her mouth, which she accepted willingly, and blindfolded her. Even bent backward as she was, her bosom is big enough to be very pronounced. I pushed her hair out of her face, gave one boob a light squeeze, and left the room.

The small remote-controlled vibrator communicated with my phone over Bluetooth. There were many levels of intensity and vibration patterns to fiddle with, such as pulse, pulse, pulse; building up and tapering off; pulse, pulse, stop, pulse, pulse; etc. The complaint on the Web page was that it was not strong enough for most women to have an orgasm, but that is precisely what I wanted. While sitting in the next room reading a magazine, I played with different settings. I would occasionally go into the room to check for circulation issues and ensure she was okay. From the doorway, I enjoyed watching Terri writhe her sexy body in her bonds, as she “enjoyed” the sweet frustration of the small vibrator. Her hips undulated, and her body wriggled erotically, but she was not going to have an orgasm. Her breathing became shallow, and she moaned loudly through the ball gag. She tried to squeeze her legs around the tiny vibrator to increase the pressure and perhaps defeat my plan to stimulate her without an orgasm, but the spreader bar did its job. Her legs were pulled so far apart that she could barely bend her knees at all. The internal, rechargeable battery lasted about twenty minutes. When the battery died, she whimpered pitifully through the gag and called for me to let her have an orgasm. I took my time responding to her pleas.

Her rules for our bondage sessions prohibited me from removing her panties, touching her girl parts (other than her boobs), and any penetration. I had to carefully reach between the spandex panties that had been pressing the small vibrator snugly against her clitoris. The spandex panties had pressed the front of her tights and the thong panties under the tights firmly between her labia, so removing it without breaking the rules was a bit of a challenge. She whined when I was done and pulled the spandex panties back in place, smoothing everything carefully. I helped her into a sitting position and untied the spreader bar from the bed, but I did not release her ankles from the bar.

With some difficulty, I carried her limp body into the basement. I had to twist her a bit, so the spreader bar didn’t bang against my walls. Her body felt wonderful. Though not Asian, she has the shape of a petite Japanese girl, with significantly larger breasts that were firm and high, but not overly large.

Arriving in the basement, I laid her carefully on a folding table I had set up under two heavy-duty eye hooks in the basement rafters. I had already used padlocks to attach heavy chains to the hooks in the ceiling. I lifted her hips and locked the eye hooks on the spreader bar as high on the chain as I could manage. Then I pushed aside the table and gently lowered her torso so that she was suspended upside down, her legs spread wonderfully. Her breathing became shallow, and I could tell she was getting very excited. She had enjoyed the bottom-up bondage several sessions back and had mentioned she thought it would be interesting to be tied upside down.

She already knew her arms were utterly helpless. Terri strained and tugged her legs, trying to get free, but she had no success. I caressed her upside down, firmly spread thighs, coming close to her girl parts, but never touching them. She stiffened and moaned softly.

“Do you feel any pain?” I asked.

I am not sure what she said through the gag, but she shook her head.

I grabbed the soft riding crop designed for beginner bondage and moved around her so that her lovely fanny was just below eye level. “You have an adorable body, Terri. Once again, your derriere must be punished for giving me impure thoughts and tempting me to break the rules. With that, I flicked the riding crop. It made a satisfying snapping sound against the spandex panties, and her buttocks and thighs jiggled nicely. She squeaked. There was no real pain. Terri knew she was helpless, and being spanked lightly, me doing something to her that she didn’t want, and being defenseless, accentuated that feeling. I “punished” her rear for about five minutes while she squeaked, moaned, and tugged. She tried to bend her torso upright, but after making her do sit-ups on the bed without using her arms, she was unsuccessful. I’m not sure what good she thought that would do, but it was probably just an unconscious reaction.

Before setting down the riding crop and moving to her front, I unhooked the back of her bra, lifted it over (under?) her head and behind her neck, revealing her attractive boobs. She growled something unladylike around the gag.

A sat cross-legged in front of her so that her breasts were about eye level and began to tease her. Already her nipples were erect. Her firm boobs were alluring, hanging upside down. I absently ran my fingers gently over her nipples and around her areolae until her moaning became quite loud. She didn’t struggle. She merely arched her back and tilted her neck so that her blindfolded eyes were facing the floor. I fondled her boobs and caressed the undersides of them that were usually never exposed to touch. She was clearly becoming sexually overwhelmed by upside-down bondage and my teasing. Her moaning became even louder, and I thought she might have another nipple orgasm, so I stopped.

As I stood, I gave her stretched belly a few tickles with my fingers.

Terri shouted something very unladylike and let out a primal growl that made me laugh. She tugged on her bonds, making her breasts jiggle. Wow.

I grabbed the wand-style vibrator from nearby and turned it on its lowest setting. She could hear the sound, and her body stiffened. She pleaded around the gag, whimpering, “Please, please, please.”

I barely touched her soft girl parts with the bulbous end of the vibrator and was rewarded with a high-pitched half moan and squeal. I was somewhat apprehensive from two sessions previously, in which I kept her on the edge of orgasm for an hour before letting her cum. Terri had been reduced to quivering and weeping inconsolably for hours afterward. I had been genuinely concerned that I had hurt her or gone too far, but she had repeatedly insisted that it was an intensely pleasurable experience.

So, I did it again. She seemed to want it badly.

Terri was already immensely stimulated from my earlier teasing – her nipples told me that – so it took just a few minutes to bring her to the edge of orgasm. When that happened, I turned off the vibrator, picked up the riding crop, and swatted her buttocks and inner thighs, each light swat being rewarded with a squeak. After a minute or so, I returned to the vibrator. When she was close to an orgasm, I put down the vibrator and tickled her sides, eliciting screams of laughter. I alternated between vibrating her girl parts, tickling, and gentle spanking for almost an hour. Every time I removed the vibrator, still on its lowest setting, she tried to arch her back and seek the vibrator with her soft mound.

Terri growled, whined, and pleaded around the gag. More than just being muffled through the gag, her utterances became incoherent. She was utterly lost in the experience. Frequently, I had to wipe the drool from her face.

Finally, after one of the light spankings, I turned the vibrator onto its highest setting and gently touched her clitoris. Immediately, Terri screamed, stiffened, and arched. She screamed her head off in ecstasy for an extended period, long enough that she gulped air hurriedly and continued to cry out four times. I turned the vibrator back on its lowest setting but kept it pressed snugly against her girl parts. By my count, she had twelve intense, almost violent orgasms, screaming and convulsing so much that I feared the woman next door, who had a key to my house for when I was gone on business, would call the police. At length, she collapsed. I think she may have fainted.

I quickly moved the table back under her, released the spreader bar from the ceiling, unlocked it from her ankles, and removed the ankle cuffs. All the time, she moaned incoherently and lolled her head. I also removed the gag and the blindfold before carrying her out of the basement and laying her on her side on the couch. To the extent she could, with her hands still bound behind her back, she tried to curl into a ball, sobbing silently. I did my best to re-hook her bra and replace her breasts in the cups, but I suspect I did an awful job, between her bound arms and her curled-up position.

She tried to bury her face in one of the throw pillows out of embarrassment and wept for almost an hour, her whole body quivering. This time, I was less worried about her powerful and extreme reaction to the bondage and multiple orgasms than I had been two sessions earlier. As she seemed to calm down, I sat her up and fed her some water through a straw. I laid her back on the couch, where she continued to quiver and cry. It took nearly two hours, about the same time I had tied her up and teased her, for her to recover enough that she could sit up and talk.

“Terri, you really worry me when you react like that. Are you sure you are okay?”

She nodded her head vigorously, gulping back another convulsive sob. “Please don’t worry. It was fantastic, more pleasurable than I ever thought possible. I don't know why it makes me cry.”

“Do you want me to untie you?”

She gently shook her head. She lay on the couch, rolling to face the back, and continued to whimper. She never went home that night. Eventually, I released her arms and, at her request, after a quick lavatory run, tied her into a loose spread-eagled position on the bed, where she stayed all night while I slept on the couch.

Terri adds:

I have no words to describe the powerful, intense, out-of-body experience he gave me. While I was embarrassed – again – by my loss of will, I will be forever grateful for these bondage sessions. Why was I ashamed? Once I am tied up, the responsibilities of my job and life fade away. I am a bound victim, but my captor is so kind and considerate. He is the only man who has seen my naked breasts, and he is the only person who has ever seen me so utterly helpless and out of control. I am embarrassed that when he edges me like he does, I become single-minded, focused on sexual release and orgasm. In a couple of hours, he turns me from a savvy, successful businesswoman to a wanton, lustful harlot, willing to do anything for an orgasm. The bondage really intensifies the pleasure and the power of the orgasm – if he lets me cum. That also intensifies the experience: not knowing if he is going to let me cum and praying with all my might that he will.

I have never come close to the intensity of orgasm when I please myself, as when he ties me up and gives me one.

He asked the question before we started. After this experience, I have decided that my girl parts are much more sensitive when I am bound with my legs spread. Both vibrators can press more firmly against my most sensitive parts because my labia do not form a soft protective barrier. In particular, the small remote-controlled vibrator was pushed deep into my pussy by the spandex panties and my spread position, coming very close to prohibited penetration, which I am reserving for after marriage.

I like it when he ties ropes around my chest that squeeze my breasts a little. The ropes constrict my breathing oh so slightly. It is not painful, but it is a bit uncomfortable. It is a constant reminder that I am bound and helpless. By boobs are extra sensitive when bound this way. It is luscious.

Hanging upside down was thrilling and frightening. I was afraid, as I bucked and strained, that I would suddenly come loose and fall, but after a while, I didn’t care. I pulled and tugged with all my might to close my legs around the vibrator. Hanging upside down with my legs spread far apart made me feel incredibly vulnerable. The feeling of him teasing my boobs and nipples while hanging upside down was wild! He touched parts of my breasts that had never been touched before. My breasts became indescribably sensitive. I didn’t realize that his fingers playing along the underside of my boobs could be so erotic while suspended.

He did not hurt me. Except for the light swatting, there was never any pain. While I was overwhelmed with my feelings of helplessness and vulnerability, I never feared that he would break the rules and take advantage of me. That confidence allowed me to lose myself in the experience entirely.

I was barely aware that he had brought me upstairs and laid me on the couch. All I could do was sob uncontrollably. I guess that is a funny response to such intense pleasure, but that is all I could do. My whole body had become an erogenous zone. When I thought I was regaining my composure, I would lightly brush a boob or my fanny against something soft, a wave of pleasure would overwhelm me, and I would start crying again. I was so ashamed, but it was lovely.

The last time I responded like this, he spent the whole weekend driving to my house to make sure I was still alive. I wanted to go home and hide my shame, but I was physically and mentally exhausted. That’s why I asked him to tie me to the bed for the night. That too was wonderful in its own way. Once tied, he left me alone with my thoughts. I tugged a bit to make sure the bondage was inescapable, but then I fell into a deep sleep, not waking until he was gently caressing my face and calling my name the next morning. I have mentioned before that I think he is a bit lonely. He seemed to appreciate me spending the night, even though we didn't do anything untoward. By the time he woke me, he had untied me, but I hadn’t felt him do it. Though I still wore my bra and the spandex panties over the black tights, I instinctively and inexplicably covered my bosom with one arm and my girl parts with the other hand. I rolled away from him to conceal myself. He laughed as he gently squeezed one butt cheek. “I’ll have breakfast ready in half an hour. Why don’t you clean up, put on your street clothes, and join me?”

Clean up? Put on my street clothes? I wasn’t even sure I could crawl to the bathroom.

See part 10 here.