Stories of Tie Up Games

This one is a bit of a slow start than some of you readers may be used to, but what it is, is real. Yes, the names and locations have been changed, and yes it dosent get “juicy” (pun intended) until well into the story, but it builds, if you let it. And it's really just my introduction into who Kate is and was to me.

Kate and I met in college, we dated briefly, got intimate the last semester of my Junior Year, and I tied her up a few times, just before Summer break. We both met other people over that summer, and alas, that was the end of our relationship for a good 12 years. Our real bondage experiences came in what I affectionately call the “later years,” when we had both matured and experienced life.

In fact, my entire bondage catalogue got better as the years went on. This, I suspect, is because we (my partners and I ) shrugged off inhibition and the protestant shame that comes from having a kink. We are raised to be embarrassed or at least to be timid when introducing anything less than “mainstream” when we are young. Age and experience cures you of this, I think. At least that’s my take.

I digress. There are numerous stories where Kate and I met for all sorts of bondage adventures, but our first time was in college, and I feel the need to “introduce” my readers to her so that the later meetings make more sense. With that I give you..

Kiss the Girl – A Kate Origin Story

I met Kate in college—or maybe it’s more accurate to say we attended the same college. She arrived as a freshman the year I returned for my sophomore year at our small, expensive school in the Northeast. The campus was majority male, which meant every new woman drew attention.

And Kate drew more than most. She had the look people lazily call “the classic cheer captain blonde,” but she carried it with an ease that made the description feel too small. She was only a little taller than the other girls, yet somehow she seemed to stand above them. Her blond hair fell in loose waves that bounced against her shoulders when she walked. Fair skin, clear blue eyes, and an athletic build from head to toe—she had the kind of presence that made you notice her even before you realized you were looking.

Kate became a favorite of the upperclassmen almost immediately, the kind of girl whose popularity seemed to bloom without effort. I wasn’t jealous, or even especially interested, beyond the simple pleasure of admiring someone undeniably pretty. With two all‑girl colleges in the neighboring towns, it wasn’t as if anyone on our campus was starved for female company anyway.

Still, Kate was one of those people you noticed—whether she was crossing the courtyard with that easy confidence or slipping past you in the hallway, sunlight catching her hair just so. I remember one particularly warm day in the beginning of the fall semester, that day she wore a light, airy summer shirt with thin strings at the shoulders—nothing dramatic, just the kind of simple detail that made the fabric move a little when she walked. The material caught the breeze and shifted softly against her frame, and accented her chest, which looked, at least at that time, to be unsupported by any type of undergarment. They had the slightest bounce, rising and falling right in the center top where the cleavage began and led down into the shirt. Firm and pert was probably the correct description a 36C I would have guessed. Her blouse was paired with soft, lightweight shorts that made her long, toned legs even more noticeable. It wasn’t flashy—just simple, easy summer clothing—but on her it all seemed to fall into place. I’m sure I wasn’t the only guy who did a quiet double‑take when she walked by.

For the next three semesters, Kate and I were on the same campus, but aside from the occasional wave or the polite moment of holding a door, we didn’t have much contact. Sure, she showed up at many of the same parties, and we ended up at plenty of the same school sponsored events, but I was usually with one girl or another, or surrounded by my friends, and she was often in her own circle. Our paths overlapped, but never in a way that offered a real chance to move anything toward an actual relationship.

The first semester of my junior year offered a few opportunities that I let slip by. I was living in an on campus townhouse then, and my roommate and I threw a steady stream of parties—most of them surprisingly well attended. Kate showed up at several of these. Little by little, it felt as if we were growing a kind of casual friendship. I was often stationed behind the makeshift bar, mixing whatever passed for cocktails, and we traded small talk more than a few times.

One night we hosted what we called a “graffiti party.” Everyone arrived in plain white T shirts, and we covered the townhouse walls in construction paper before handing out permanent markers. As the evening wore on and the alcohol loosened everyone’s creativity, guests were encouraged—no, practically dared—to draw on the paper lined walls and on each other’s shirts. It was chaotic, loud, and ridiculous in the best possible way.

Toward the later part of the evening, Kate—loosened up by a few drinks—stepped close and drew a pair of circles on my chest, adding two dots centered as if they were nipples. She did it with a grin that made it clear she knew exactly how ridiculous it looked. Not wanting to miss the chance to play along, I lifted my marker and traced a pair of circles on her shirt as well, giving them exaggerated googly eyes instead of anything too on the nose. She laughed, leaning in just enough that I caught the warm, clean note of her perfume even over the stale beer soaking into the floor.

I still have the vivid memory of how firm and round her breasts were as I pressed the markers into them, I even managed to “accidentally” grope one during the drawing process, encouraged that she didn’t flinch at all.

When I looked up, she was already looking at me. For a moment, it felt like our faces were only inches apart. The noise of the party dropped away, the room blurred into color and motion, and all I could see was her—steady, bright, and unexpectedly close.

Then the moment broke. She took a sip of her drink; I lifted my beer in a half laugh. We tapped our cups together, a small, almost conspiratorial toast, and drifted back into the party—each of us off to find the dates we’d arrived with, somewhere else in the house.
That night was the first time I felt a real spark of attraction toward Kate—subtle, unexpected, but unmistakable. The rest of the semester slipped by quickly, and since I was seeing two different girls from the neighboring colleges, I didn’t make any effort to examine those feelings or act on them. Life was busy, distracting, full of noise and motion.

But that changed significantly after the winter break.

You’ve got a genuinely compelling scene here—one of those unexpected intersections where two people who’ve been orbiting each other for semesters finally collide in a moment of vulnerability. The bones are excellent: the timing, the emotional contrast, the physical setting, the understated humor. What it needs now is clarity, polish, and a bit more emotional focus so the moment lands with the weight it deserves.

Here’s a refined version that keeps everything appropriate while sharpening the pacing, imagery, and emotional resonance. I’ve also smoothed grammar and tightened the narrative flow:

I returned to the townhouses a few days early, my Jeep loaded with all the essentials a college junior supposedly needs for the spring semester—beer, video games, posters, movies, and more beer—buried under a token layer of clothes and a book or two.

As I pulled behind the row of townhouses to unload through our back door, I noticed a beige Audi parked a few units up. Kate’s Audi. She was kneeling beside the passenger side front tire, bent over, shoulders shaking. Even from a distance, it looked like she was crying.

I eased the Jeep closer to her car and climbed out. When I rounded the front bumper, I saw the problem immediately: the front right tire had come completely off the rim, the chassis nearly resting on the driveway. Kate was sobbing and didn’t notice me until I spoke.

“Hey,” I said gently, “that’s no big deal. It’s just a tire.”

“My parents are going to kill me,” she managed between tears.

“No, come on. That’s an easy fix.” I kept my voice steady, calm. “Let’s get the tire off and see what we can do.”

Without waiting for her to respond, I jogged back to the Jeep and grabbed a couple of scissor jacks. Within a few minutes, I had the Audi lifted enough to free the wheel. The rim didn’t look bent, just scraped—she must have hit a curb pretty hard.

A small dent and a streak of yellow paint marked the lower skirt of the car. I shook my head and gave her a half smile.

“You know,” I said, “you’re supposed to leave the paint on the curb. That way the rest of us can see it and avoid the thing.”

She let out a shaky laugh, her face still streaked with tears but no longer collapsing under them.

“That’ll come off with a little solvent,” I added. “And no one’s ever going to notice that tiny dent.”

She sniffed, asked if I really thought so, and I assured her I did.

I invited her inside while I cleared space in the Jeep for her and the tire. She nodded, still quiet, and followed me in. I dumped most of my gear onto the kitchen floor, and soon we were driving into town, the damaged wheel in the back.

It was the first real small talk we’d ever shared, but she was still crying softly. I tried again to reassure her that the car would be fine, that this wasn’t the disaster it felt like.

She wiped her eyes, apologized, and finally told me the truth: it wasn’t just the tire. She’d found out her boyfriend had cheated on her—right before she left to drive back to school.

“Well, that sucks,” I said, trying to keep my tone gentle. “But honestly? You’re going to be better off without him. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of a hot commodity around here. You won’t have to look far to find ten guys better than the jackass who cheated on you.”

That finally got her to smile. “I don’t know how quickly I’ll want to jump back into anything,” she said, “but… that does make me feel better.”

I smiled back and kept driving. True to my word, an hour later we were back on campus, the tire repaired and ready to go. I lowered the jack and stepped back.

“Good as new,” I said.

Before I could straighten up, she wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug

It was the kind of hug where her chest was squished tightly against mine, I could feel the outline of her bra and the incredible firmness of the flesh that was filling them. I considered extending the embrace for a bit longer as I immediately found myself wondering what she would look like naked. Then I realized that I was starting to get aroused. I didn’t want to make that too obvious, so I returned the hug and stepped away, quickly grabbing a handful of he left over items in my Jeep.

Kate grabbed a box of movies and video games and followed me into the townhouse. When she asked where I wanted it, I told her to take it up to my room. She didn’t hesitate—just headed straight for the stairs—so I called after her that it was the room to the right, above the kitchen.

She tossed her coat on the couch as she passed and jogged up the stairwell.

I scooped up an armful of clothes and whatever else had spilled out of the Jeep and followed her up. By the time I reached the landing, she had already found my room. The box sat on the edge of my bed, and she was moving slowly around the space, taking it in—the unmade bed, the photo tacked to the wall, the open closet with its half organized chaos.

There was something strangely intimate about seeing her there, standing in the middle of my room like she belonged for a moment. She wasn’t snooping; she was just… looking. Curious. Quiet.

She paused at my closet, taking in the surprisingly large collection of neckties and the small stack of handkerchiefs folded neatly on the shelf. There was a faint, curious smile on her face—like she was seeing a side of me she hadn’t expected.

Turning away, she drifted past the bed, her fingers brushing lightly along the short four poster frame as she walked. It didn’t seem intentional, just one of those absent gestures people make when they’re taking in a room for the first time.

She moved toward the window that overlooked the campus and stopped there, framed by the afternoon light. The sun caught the edges of her loose white button-up, turning it almost translucent at the outline, and her jeans softened into shadow. The outline of her body beneath the shirt was clear from my point of view, her waist narrowing from athletic shoulders, and when she turned, her pert, pronounced chest made that classic slope that lifts to a point and then gently slopes back into her body, where it certainly seemed to have little or no sag.

I caught myself staring and looking up, and noticed that she, too, had noticed my stare. But she just smiled and then, with a little hop, started toward the door.

How much more do you have to unpack, she asked, I was thinking I would run over to my room and grab a couple of beers as a thank you for fixing my car and making me feel better.

I’ll be done unpacking before you can get back, I assured her.

Now this didn’t lead immediately into a relationship with sexual benefits as one might imagine. But it did start the train down the hill.
We shared a few beers that afternoon, traded some laughs, and swapped a couple of stories. Before long, classmates and roommates started trickling back onto campus, and whatever quiet space Kate and I had carved out for ourselves dissolved into the usual beginning of semester chaos. Still, something had shifted.

Over the next few weeks, we found ourselves flirting more than either of us probably meant to—leaning close at parties, catching each other’s eye across crowded rooms, drifting into the same conversations even when we’d arrived with different people.

Before long, we were spending weekday evenings together too, talking, hanging out, letting the hours slip by without noticing. I dated a few girls during that stretch, and Kate never hesitated to offer her critiques or suggestions, half teasing, half sincere. She had dates of her own for parties, but somehow we still ended up spending most of our time together.

The moment finally came to a head one Thursday evening. Kate and I were sitting on the floor of my townhouse while a handful of roommates, their dates, and a few friends lounged around with drinks, half watching a DVD of The Little Mermaid.

This wasn’t an accident on my part. I had a tried and true trick for nudging a hesitant relationship past the awkward early stages, and I knew exactly when the opportunity would arrive.

Midway through the movie, the bird and the crab launched into “Kiss the Girl,” the scene where the prince and princess—clearly drawn to each other—struggle to bridge the gap between them. As the song began, I shifted closer to Kate, singing the words softly, letting my chest brush her shoulder as I leaned in just enough for my breath to skim past her left ear.

At first she froze, caught between surprise and something else. Then, slowly, she eased back into me, her shoulder pressing lightly against my chest, her head tilting just a fraction closer.

Right on cue, as the chorus whispered its encouragement, she turned her head and met my eyes. The world seemed to narrow to that single moment. Then we kissed—tentative at first, then with a sudden, undeniable certainty. We stayed like that through the rest of the song, wrapped up in each other while the room around us faded into background noise.

When the music ended, it was replaced by clapping and laughter from the peanut gallery. “About time, you two! Who had Thursday afternoon during ‘Kiss the Girl’? Get the betting chart!” my roommate called out.

I shook my head, laughing, waving them off. Kate rose, still holding my hand, and with her chin lifted in confidence, she led me toward the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Kate didn’t hesitate—she practically rushed toward my room, pushed the door open, and the moment I stepped inside, she swung it shut behind us. Before I could say a word, she grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me toward her, our kiss picking up exactly where it had left off but with more fever. My hands quickly traveled from around her waist, up her back, and then down to her firm ass. I turned so that her back was against the door and pressed against her, letting my hands start to travel up her taut stomach, then cupping under her breasts and over. One hand remained with a handful of chest while the other returned down to her pants.

She was gripping my back and pulling me in as hard as she could, her hand also ran to my ass and then around and rubbed over my crotch, obviously feeling how hard I had become.

She pushed me back, and I stood in shock for just a moment, wondering if I had somehow gone too far, although she had clearly been as aggressive as I.

In that moment, I could not help noticing that the long-sleeved T-shirt she had on was hugging her figure like paint, and her arousal was clear as the two sharp points now making impressions on that tight shirt.

She was wearing one of my favorite shirts of hers—the one she only seemed to pull out when she was around people she trusted. It was a light blue V neck, soft and worn in, the kind of shirt that hinted at her confidence without her ever trying. The plunging neckline accented her full chest and provided quite a bit of cleavage to view. On the back, a pool cue and a scatter of billiard balls were printed in bright colors. The front, in bold white letters, carried the joke that always made her smirk when someone finally noticed it: “Nice Rack.”

Kate looked me up and down and, without a word, suddenly stripped her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor behind her. Underneath was a light purple lace bra that barely held her breasts within. I could make out the outline of her quarter-sized pink nipples peeking through the fabric. I moved forward to work the bra free, and as I did, she quickly unfastened my belt, pulled open the fly from its button and zipper, and thrust her hands inside the waistline, practically showing them off my legs and to the floor.

I skipped unfastening the bra and quickly removed her jeans as well, leaving her in a matching set of fine panties. At the same time, she slid my shirt over my head, and we embraced again, this time we were practically mauling eachother grabbing, squeezing, and tugging at one another.

Me in a pair of dark jockey shorts that were no longer hiding my excitement, and her in a lace matching panties and Bra, the latter now half covering one breast as I made circles with my tongue, my right hand had slipped under the waist of her panties, brushed past a short tuft of hair she had, and found a deep, warm crevasse that caused her to get on her toes and gasp.

I turned our bodies, still locked and pressed front to front, and began a slow walk back to a vanity counter of sorts that was next to my closet. Her hand was now down inside my shorts and had circled my member with a soft grip and slow strokes. She made me somehow even harder.

As we made it to the low counter, I pulled my hands free, grabbed Kate around the waist, and lifted her into a sitting position on the counter. I moved between her outstretched legs and pressed my still-covered manhood against her damp, also still-covered crotch. Kate gasped as I started a slow grind “dry humpng” her as my hands moved from her waist to her wrists.

I moved my hand up, caressing the underside of the breasts, and I went and unsnapped the center secured bra. Instead of pulling it over and off her, though, I slid the straps down her arms. She naturally brought her wrists back behind so the undergarment could fall free, but once it got to her lower arms, I gathered the straps in one hand, trapping both of her wrists behind her. With a twist, they became entangled and now, Kate, with her hands caught behind her, arched her back as my mouth started to move down her neck and over her tits.

This was an important stage in the dance, I have found. Simultaneously judging the willingness and openness to being restrained, if only just slightly, and how she reacts to it will tell a lot for future escapades. Kate did not disappoint.

One hand holding the bra that in turn held her arms behind her back, I let the other move down her torso, slip under her panties, and gently tugged them free of her bottom and off her legs. Kate had closed her eyes and was biting her lip. Her chest heaved out, and her chin lifted up as I once again began to let my fingers pleasure her .

The moment of truth approached, and I released the bindings holding her wrists and slowly lowered myself to a kneeling position. Small kisses made their way down her abdomen, to the tops of her legs, and finally, where my tongue touched her fine lips that only lightly protruded from within, first light brushes with the tongue, then more penetrating, deeper and more forceful thrusts and licks. Both of my hands pulled her bottom into my face so that I could eat her in a manner I knew would bring her to ecstasy.

I was pleased and could sense that she kept her hands behind her back; in fact, it appeared she had wrapped the straps even tighter around her wrists, and she started to arch harder and moan against pursed lips. Soon we began to move in slow and steady gyrations, my face buried deep into her, her hands held behind her back, nipples pointed into the air, and gasps of ecstasy started to escape her lips.

Last test I thought, her goes nothing. As her moans started to get even louder I reached up with my right hand and covered her lips with an upside down grip. This was only a partially effective hand gag, but was a proven method of checking off an important box on the viability checklist for future bondage. The muffling of her moans energized Kate even further, and she seemed to enjoy the ability to let loose.

I could feel her reaching the point of no return, and soon she began to buck under my tongue's motions inside her. As she started to orgasm, I pressed my hand even harder, trying to lower her sounds as much as possible. In a few moments, it passed, and she went from bucking to slow gyrations and then a slow rock. I let my middle finger dip between her lips, while still keeping a tight lid on her mouth.

When the waves of pleasure had slowed, Kate lowered her head towards me. She simultaneously stood, dropping from the counter, and released her hands from behind. She pushed me back a step and then dropped to her knees, pulling down my shorts as she did. My erection held my cock straight out in front and she took it in one hand with the other cupping my balls and licked the head. Then her tongue ran down then back up the shaft, under and over, then she took first the top half into her mouth and swirled while she moved her tongue in a circular pattern. Next deeper, and more licking, sucking. Her lips moved around and over, her tongue licking, stroking, and she made a strong sucking motion as she moved me in her mouth from side to side.

This was clearly not Kate's first blow job as she managed to move her mouth, tongue, lips and hands as one and quickly brought me first to the edge of bliss and then into complete ecstasy as I came strongly into her mouth. Kate continued throughout, swallowing each drop and afterwards licking up and down, cleaning my entire cock while looking up into my eyes.

When complete, we stood and collapsed into my bed, we kissed and folded each other until we ended up with me behind her in a spoon position, one hand on her right tit and the other around her waist.

Kate commented on how amazing that was and that she hardly even orgasmed with someone the first time. I commented on how much I enjoyed it and how long I had been waiting for this to happen. She chuckled and said that she too had been waiting for something to happen to us, but she was glad that this is how it went.

After half an hour, Kate asked if I would mind if she took a shower. I told her I certainly did not, but that it was a shared bathroom between the two bedrooms. I told her had a robe she could borrow along with a towel. She kissed me and stood from the bed. I admired her naked behind as she walked toward my closet, she turned and winked as she pulled down the hanging light switch.

I rose and walked behind her, finding one of the two bathrobes hanging in my closet. When I opened it for her and she stepped inside, a slow warmth crept through me again. I wrapped the robe around her, and she drew the red sash snug at her waist.

The sash gave me an idea.

As she sauntered toward the door with a towel in hand, I reached deeper into the closet and pulled the other robe from its hanger. The first was imitation silk, patterned with something I can’t quite remember, its red sash bright against the fabric. The second was terry cloth—dark blue, heavier, with a matching belt.

I heard the sound of the water turn on and waited a few minutes for the hot water to start to gather steam. I walked out to the hall myself and tried the doorknob; it was unlocked as I had hoped, and I entered the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

Kaste was in the shower, the semi-opaque doors closed but allowing a view of her figure as she began to lather her body. I stood for a moment watching her rub soap over her own chest and then down between her legs. She looked up and smiled at me, “ I was hoping you might join me” she said.

I noticed she had placed the robe on the sink counter. I subtly pulled the sash free as I approached the shower. I hung my robe in the towel rack attached to the back of the shower door and grabbed a clean, white dry washcloth that was folded on the countertop. Both the sash and the wash cloth were placed on top of the shower door.

I entered and she moved forward, kissing me and rubbing soap on my chest. I soaped my hands and, placing them around her back, began to lather her up. The kissing and lathering turned into me moving behind her, rubbing an obscene amount of soap on her breasts, while letting my hand slip down to her crotch while biting her on the neck passionately. She reached back and took my penis in her hand and began to rub it with soap, soon I was hard as a rock again.

I could feel her pussy start to generate its own lubricant again and she started to take slow, deliberate deep breaths, and she too started down the path toward orgasm.

I reached up and grabbed the red sash I had placed on the shower door top, “You are so hot” I said as she continued to stroke me. “I want to fuck you right her in the shower.”

“Yes, fuck me, make me cum” she replied.

“This was the time, I thought to myself. AS she still had her back to me I was able to fold the sash in two and then bring it up over her eyes.

She didnt break stride, stroking me evenly as I tied the sash behind her head, blindfolding her .

“yes, god, yes” she said, now sighless as I returned my hands to her chest and inside her pussy , I fingered her more while she got onto her tiptoes. When she turned and looked ready to drop to her knees, I said to her gently,” no, not yet Let me work on you first”

I gathered her wrists together, pulling them from my crotch and, reaching to the outside of the shower door, pulled the terry cloth belt free of the other robe.

“what, oh , oh my, oh ..oh..yes” was all Kate managed as I looped the belt several times around her wrists and tied them off in front of her.

I turned her so she was directly under the shower and then pulled her arms up toward the shower head. Her fingers could touch the metal pipe leading to the spout, and I took the loose end of the belt and wrapped it around that pipe. Kate was now bound with her hands overhead and tied to the shower nozzle while blindfolded. The water running down her head and causing the soap suds to flow down her buxom body was a sight I can still see clearly to this day.

My hands freely roamed her body, and I kissed her deary then began to paint her chest with my tongue, nibbling each nipple and circling them with my tongue. Kates hands were flexing and clasping together, testing the bonds that held them together and pulling lightly on the tether lashing her to the shower.

I knelt and kissed her again, probing with my tongue, waiting till I brought her to the edge of her limits. Kate was moaning louder and telling me to go harder, deeper. The timing was perfect, I thought, its now or nevertood and whispered to her, “You make me so hard, but you are getting too loud, everyone in the house is going to hear us”

With that I took the folded white washcloth and stuffed a corner in Kate's open mouth, pushing half of it in and completely muffling her moans. Kate did not try to dislodge it, in fact, it seemed to energize her more as I returned to eating her out.

After a few more minutes, I found that just the sigh and sound of Kate bound in the shower and gagged with a washcloth was getting me close to blowing my load. I reached up and untied the end of the belt that held her to the shower, leaving her wrists bound together. Though I pulled her past me so that she could touch the rear of the shower, bending her forward, she placed both hands against the wall and mounted her from behind.

MMMMFFFGGHHHHHHH she moaned, keeping the cloth deep in her mouth MMMGGHHTTTTTF

We started to move as one, when I thrust she pushed itno me, and when I pulled back she thrust forward slightly. This is built in cadence and in strength. I was huffing, and Kate was yelling into the cloth-filled mouth. Finally, I came, followed seconds later by Kate. We slowed until we both finished.

Pulling myself free, Kate turned and stood facing me, still blindfolded and bound. I pulled the washcloth from her mouth, kissed her and commented, “you can be loud when you want to be, that’s for sure.”

I untied her hands, and she pulled the blindfold from her eyes. Those eyes sparkled, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deep and long .

“That was even more amazing than earlier,” she said.

After the shower, we both collapsed in my bed, falling asleep in each other's arms.

One would expect that the next few days and weeks would be filled with tales of how I had Kate bound and gagged as my willing captive day and night, but alas, this was college. Ill admit that I probably chickened out a bit, not addressing the elephant in the room the next day or even a week later, when I woke up, she was still asleep in my bed, I kissed her and went out for a run. When I returned, she was downstairs, and we shared breakfast before meeting some friends out at a park. That evening we were at a party at an off-campus house, and I slept over in her dorm room, where her roommates also had taken up shelter. Then we were at a club, and home late, etc, etc.

Not that we didn’t have sex, no we fucked like rabbits when we had the chance, but again, this was college and sex was frequent, sudden, and often, …quick. I suspect I also didn’t want to push the issue, thinking I might have moved too quickly. These were less mature times, when one was painfully self conscious about how one’s peers perceived everything. At any rate, the opportunity never really presented itself.
Until three weeks later, that is.

It was early evening at the start of a long weekend. Our small college had become a ghost town, most students having traveled home. Kate was planning to leave the next afternoon and stay at her dad’s house until mid week. He was divorced and recently remarried, and Kate had decided she should take some time to acquaint herself with her new step mom.

I, on the other hand, had planned a movie marathon weekend with a case of beer or two. I’d picked out a stack of Harrison Ford films — Indiana Jones, Star Wars, and Force Ten from Navarone — along with some classic comedies like Caddyshack, Animal House, and Spies Like Us. I rounded it out with a few easy to digest action flicks: The Terminator, RoboCop, and Big Trouble in Little China.

This turned out to be a fortuitous choice of titles.

Friday slipped into night, and we found ourselves in my empty townhouse with a bowl of freshly popped popcorn, sitting in front of a huge 32 inch color TV watching Big Trouble in Little China. The place was silent except for the movie and the occasional hum of the refrigerator. We’d already been intimate earlier on the couch while MTV videos played in the background, and dinner had long since been eaten and cleaned up. I honestly expected the rest of the evening to be simple: snuggle through a few movies, then head upstairs and probably fool around a bit before drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms. Nothing to complain about.

But things took a turn as the movie reached its dramatic climax (yes, another pun). In the scene where Kurt Russell infiltrates an underground, Asian run den of prostitution, we discover that our heroine, played by Kim Cattrall, is being held in a cell with several other women, all captives of the criminal organization.

Earlier in the movie, another damsel — a pretty Asian girl whose name I don’t recall — had been whisked away by the bad guys, one of whom could apparently levitate or fly. Shortly thereafter, she was shown tied to the metal headboard of a bed with a thick cloth in her mouth. The scene surprised me, I forgot that it was even in the movie, and I stiffened as it popped on and off the screen, wondering if Kate had noticed my shift in concentration. I looked out the corner of my eye, but she seemed to be just continuing to watch the movie and peck at the popcorn.

But when the camera panned over to Kim Cattrell in the scene within the jail cell, we find that she has been bound hand and foot with a hemp-style rope and gagged with a black cleve gag. Her hands were tied cross-wrist behind her, and the rope binding her feet ran back to her neck, causing her to be in a modified hog-tie and forcing her to keep her head elevated. There were several shots of her in this position and when Russell finally frees her by cutting the rope, she keeps the gag on as they flee the building, removing it only after they had exited the set of rooms she and numerous other ladies had been held captive in.

After the first scene, I realized that this one was on the horizon. I had managed to move myself behind Kate on the couch, both of us lying sideways and sharing the couch, my one arm slowly caressing her leg, Kate's blond hair just below my chin. As soon as Russel and his small band of rescuers made their way into the building, I could feel my pulse rising in anticipation of the scene. I suspect the soft motions on my fingers may have started to become a little more pronounced, starting to run further up and down her side.

I don’t know if Kate had anticipated the likelihood of the scene, if perhaps she had seen this movie previously or if she was responding to my touch, but her hand reached behind her body and caressed me over my sweat pants.

Kate and I had dressed casually after our earlier tryst, and she was wearing a pair of short gym shorts and one of my button up oxfords.

When Catrell was shown bound and gagged, my hands started to roam up inside the Oxford, finding that she had gone sans bra and cupped her left breasts. Kate, in turn, began to massage me, causing blood to rush and harden my cock. I nibbled on her ear, breathing heavily, and began to move my pelvis along her leg slowly, announcing my desire. Kate turned and kissed my still with a firm grip on my manhood.

Suddenly, though, she broke the embrace. Her hand pulled away from me, she sat up, straightened her shirt and picked up the now almost empty bow; of popcorn. She walked into the kitvhen, placed the bowl in the sink and poured herself a glass of water filled with ice. Then she walked back to the couch, leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek, and started upstairs without another word.

I sat dumbfounded, looking down at my erection. I thought to myself, well what the hell am I supposed to do with this? I didn’t understand. Oh well, I thought, stood, turned off the TV, shut off the lights and started upstairs.

I rounded the stairwell to see my door cracked open just slightly with the light spraying out into the hall. Pushing the door open, I found that Kate was sitting cross legged on the center of the bed. She had unbuttoned all by the two lowest buttons on my shirt, had doffed the shots and had brushed her hair into a tight ponytail. She had a mischievous smile on her face and a come-hither look .

What really caught my attention was that she had the red silky bathrobe sash twisting in her hands. Not only that, but hanging over the footboard of the bed was the terrycloth belt from the other robe and about six other neck ties.

I was gobsmacked. I'm not positive I stood with my jaw agape, but in my mind's eye, that’s what happened. She gestured to me with her index finger with a come-hither and said coyly

“I was thinking we might have Big Trouble in Little Bedroom.” And she wound the sash around her hands holding them out to me.

I walked over as confidently as I could muster and took hold of her loosely bound wrists, pulling her close and kissing her hard. With my hand behind her head as we kissed, I coaxed her to a standing position next to the bed and side-stepped toward the hanging ties. Without losing lip-lock, I unwound the sash she had wrapped around herself and unbuttoned the rest of the shirt, using both hands to gently glide it off her shoulders and onto the floor. This revealed the black lace and see-through panties she had on under the shirt, and as she stepped back toward the bottom post of my bed, I started to gather her hands behind her.

The bed I had in my room had been inherited from another family member. It was a classic king with a cherry frame, sleek lines, minimalist aesthetics, and four round, carved posts . The two posts by the head stood about 5’6” tll and the two at the feet only 4’ tall, both supporting the headboards with wooden cross beams.

I backed Kte up to one of the shorter posts and still, while kissing her I was able to gently pull her arms around the post, and tie her wrists together behind her back and around the post. cinching her hands tight, I took the remaining tie and wrapped it around the bedpost, securing it with a strong knot.

I brought my lips down to her neck, as she closed her eyes and let out a soft murmur. She was slowly moving her pelvis in a circular motion and back and forth. As my lips moved down to her breasts and began to nibble a nipple, my hands drew down her panties. I continued south, now with two missions in mind, starting her toward a building ecstasy and tied her legs into an advantageous position. I didn’t want to pause any of the growing passion, so I settled my lips on her lower mound and nuzzled while one hand gathered another tie and the other firmly held one leg to one side of the post. I wrapped the tie around this and then the other leg to the opposite side of the same pole. This separated them just enough to make her completely vulnerable. Her breathing was very heavy now, and I slowly made my way back up, kissing and licking as I went until I reached her chin.

She leaned her head back as I made soft bites on her neck and chin, which presented the perfect opportunity to utilize the red sash again as a blindfold. Two loops around her head, covering her eyes and then knotted firmly behind her. This had all taken just moments. I knew I wanted more, and suspected she did also, but I wanted to create an opportunity, even a need.

I saw her glass if ice water on the bedstand and quickly retrieved two cubes. I placed one in my mouth and then returned to her nipples, the cube rolling around in my mouth and making the occasional electric touch to her hard teats. The second I held between two fingers and started to run it down her stomach and toward her pelvis, letting it just touch her engorged lips down below. Touch and remove, lick and remove, touch again.

Kate writhed against her bindings, pulling at the bed frame, which held strong. She gritted her teeth, bit them, and then moaned loudly, calling out god himself. Her breathing started to come in gasps, and the tempo and tone began to rise.

Perfect timing I thought.

Placing the second cube in my mouth, I reached over and grabbed another tie, this one a single color, dark blue.
I folded it in half and then made a knot in the center of the two folds.

Kate was till pulling and thrashing as I had taken to my knees to use the ice cubes in my mouth against her pussy. But when the knot had been created, I stood and, holding the two ends in my hands, held the cloth up toward her lips, as she opened them for another gasp I pushed the knot between her teeth and was delighted when she bit down on it and leaned her head forward, which allowed me to secure it behind her ponytail.

Having accomplished this feat, I spent a good minute licking and fingering her back to a frenzy. I built her passion back into a crescendo and probably right to the edge of orgasm before I stepped back. As she began to catch her breath I took the moment to admire the view.

Here was an absolutely gorgeous blond in her early twenties, pert, large and firm breasts, athletic build, well-groomed with her hair in a tight pony tail. She was bound hand and foot to a post, blindfolded, and gagged with a knotted cleve which she bit down upon with perfect teeth.
Not wanting to let the moment pass, I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around from behind, one hand groping her breasts , the other swirling inside her and my lips kissing up and down her neck.

MMMMMMggghhhhhhhh…MMMMggHHHHHh Kate moaned through the gag.

I brought a hand up and covered her mouth, silencing her even more

“You still OK? I asked softly. Kate nodded with enthusiasm in the affirmative. I kissed her softly and then bent down, untying her legs, moving them just slightly away from the post, then re-tying them again together, time adding a second tie, just above the knees.
Kate stood obediently as I unbound her hands, brought them from around the post, but resecured them in a tight figure eight tie behind her back again.

She waited in silence as I moved to her front, then ran my hands slowly and softly from her legs up to her face, whispering to her, “you are so hot,” then kissing her over her gagged lips. She attempted to return the kiss, but the knotted cloth impeded her from doing so.

I grasped her mid-frame and picked her a few inches off of the floor, which caused a gasp from Kate. Bringing her mid bed, I returned her to the floor and rotated her facing the bed. Then I bent her forward onto the bed, her legs still on the floor and her head and chest now pressed against the sheets. This elevated her ass just perfectly in front of me, and I quickly pulled down my sweat pants and let my dick stand erect at an upward angle. Kate grew silent in anticipation. She had clasped both hands together and was face down in the bed.

Taking myself in my own hand, I slowly ran the shaft up along the inner back of her legs, over her ass cheeks, then back down along her leg. I was building tension and desire while still trying to control my own tempo.

I reached and grabbed the bindings of her wrist, creating leverage, and slowly began to push myself into her exposed and waiting box. She was so wet already, warm and moist. Apparently very sensitive also, as I slowly stroked in, she let out a muffled wail. This was followed by a grunt, then a moan as I began to drill slowly at first and then faster and deeper.

I gritted my teeth, and she made guttural sounds through her gagged lips. She was helpless to do anything but accept the gift I was giving her, and I could detect her cries of approval.

“MMMGGGHHH OHHHHHHHHHMFFYYEEAAGGGHHH

As the raging tide of excitement crested and I exploded inside her, she shook with her own finish, letting out one final muted cry. I shook and trembled as I kept the waves flow over me, and I emptied into her. Once we both had finished, I gently removed myself.

Standing, I stepped back and pulled her to her feet. Untying her wrists, I let her rub them, but when she began to bring them up to her face, I stopped her, collecting both hands and saying gently, not yet you don’t.

She murmured an acknowledgment and went slack, allowing me to once again bind them together, palm to palm in front of her. Once this was accomplished, I sat her on the bed and then had her scoot back toward the middle of the bed. She was obviously curious to my plans but helpless to do anything about it. I grabbed the terrycloth belt and, lying her back on the bed, mounted her, sitting softly on her just under the chest. I pulled or pushed her arms up toward the opposite post that was on the other side, head of the bed and leaning forward so my swelling member was now between her boobs. I tied the belt to her wrists and then to the bed post.

Kate, for her part, had leaned her head forward trying to reach me with her mouth but, retuned her head to the bed when she realized that was not my plan. I kissed each tit and started to move my mouth down her body again, but this time gathered her bound ankles and tied yet another tie to them and then to the opposite side, bottom bed post, pulling tight so that Kate was now stretched out crossways on my bed, hands tied above and together to one end and feet together to the other.

I sat up and admired my work. Kate was testing her bindings and finding that she was not about to get free soon. I saw that she was also stretching her jaw against the tight cleve. I considered pulling it from her mouth, but decided against it just yet.

I said in a straight voice, “now don’t go anywhere, il be right backm, I have something for you”

“MMMMFFFHHTT?” is all Kate could manage.

Done worry,Im just running down to the kitchen.

Kate giggled underneath the gag and tried to shrug as if to say, not like I can do anything about that.

I dashed downstairs and was back as soon as my feet could take me. When I returned to the room, Kate could hear a rattle against something of thin metal, she may have guessed a spray can or something else, but when I removed the blindfold, she saw I was holding a can of whipped cream.
She blinked twice, getting used to her sight again, and I could see the edges of a smile against the strained cloth that filled her mouth.

I “whistled while I work”ed and began to spray whipped cream on her boobs and her crotch. Then, mounting the bed next to her, I began to lap it off of her. Slowly, deliberately, I licked and swallowed until every last bit of the creamy goodness from her body. Kate moaned with pleasure as I did it, and when I finished, she was panting out of breath. L leaned back and licked my lips.

“You are as delicious as a dessert,” I said to her, looking deep into her eyes. “I guess its time to set you free”

I moved toward her bound legs and untethered them, and then slowly did the same to the belt that held her bound wrists to the bed. Before I could untie her wrists, though, she sat up and pulled the gag down from her mouth, leaned forward and gave me a deep kiss.

‘That was amazing..again”. She said with a huge smile. “I have never ever come twice in the same night. That was… unbelievable,” she said.

Im glad. I returned, really, and its not like I didn’t enjoy myself.

“Well . let me help you enjoy it just a bit more,” Kate said with a gleam in her eyes.

She pushed me back gently onto the bed, picked up the canister of whipped cream, and began to pile it on top of my privates. With her hands still bound together and the wet knotted gag hanging loose from her neck, she began to lap up the pile of cream she had just placed on me. When she got most of it off she gathered my phallus into her mouth and slowly began to move it back and forth while her tongue swirled around.

I looked down at her as she sucked me off and was mesmerized by her slightly swaying tits that were in a rhythm with the hanging knotted cloth and the movements of her mouth. It didn’t take long before I could feel myself building into climax again.

She sensed it coming and started sucking faster, using her hands to stroke while her tongue licked and her lips pulled. Harder, then faster, back and forth, deep and warm, quicker and long and shorter, up and down,… then… then…. an explosion as I blew a load into her mouth.
Kate dutifully swallowed it, then collapsed next to me, her still bound wrists nestled against my side. We lay there both breathing hard nd trying to catch our breath. Finally, I unbound her wrists and helped remove the gag, throwing them both on the floor .

Minutes later, we both fell deep asleep, exhausted from our adventure.

The next morning, we woke like it was just any other day. Kate kissed me, then made her way downstairs and made us both toast. At noon, she left to see her father, and I returned to my plan of watching movies, though the entire time I was replaying the previous evening in my mind.

That was the last time I tied Kate at school; however, we were already near the end of the year, and, like before, we had sex often, but never with a bondage component, and I was too stupid to even bring up the topic. I assumed she had just thought of it as a kinky little addition to our sex life, like a vacation from the norm.

At any rate, when summer came around, we both went home, met other people, and our relationship simply petered out. Before we returned to school, we had a long conversation on the phone and mutually decided we wanted to see other people. I can’t even tell you why at this point. I’m sure there was a good enough reason, and, well… life has its own way of carving a path.

We stayed friends of sorts — friendly and cordial. When I graduated, she attended the ceremony, congratulated me, and gave me a kiss, but that was essentially where we left things.

At least, until I ran into her again a dozen years later.

And that, my friends, is where our real adventures began.

To be continued