Saturday Night (F/F)
Posted: Sun Jan 25, 2026 7:55 am
This is based on truth. Enhanced truth. I tried to write a true account but it just didn’t make a good read. Enhancing means some suspension of disbelief. We are not crazy enough to leave each other tied up and gagged whilst the other one goes to work or goes out shopping.
And one final point. Although we have a loving relationship, it usually seems to be me who gets tied up and spanked or whatever more than Julie, I’ve never measured it but 2:1, 3:1 I’m definitely more the bottom than I am the top, so when I get to tie Julie up I make the most of it. And Julie loves it when I do.
Saturday
Julie rolled over and moaned. It was 6pm on saturday night and she was naked. Her hands were tied behind her back with red duct tape as were. Her elbows. More tape went round her body, above and below chest and around her tummy. Her legs were tied together with more tape around her ankles, above and below knees and mid thighs. Her cheecks bulged, stuffed with her own tights and knickers and more red tape covered her mouth. Cottom wool pads covered her eyes held in place with a final strip of red tape.
She struggled, but she couldnt move, see, or make any noise louder than a muffled moan. She was horny as fuck and had been since she had beenn tied up 2 hours ago. She writhed in frustration on the lounge floor, rubbing her tied tits on the carpet, hoping she didnt leave a damp patch ot the rug.
Suddenly, she heard the front door open and her heart skipped a beat. She froze and listened as footsteps got louder, then paused right next to her head. She could smell the familiar scent of her gitlfriemd’s perfume and she whimpered into her gag.
“Mmm, look at you.” Julie felt a finger trace down her spine, and she arched her back instinctively. “All tied up and nowhere to go. How long have you been like this, baby?” Her girlfriend chuckled, and Julie could hear the smirk in her voice. She shook her head violently—she didn’t know how long it had been, only that she was aching for release. “Are you fed up yet?”
Julie moaned louder into her gag, straining against the tape as if trying to communicate. Her girlfriend knelt beside her, tugging playfully at the tape binding her thighs. “Oh, I think you’re enjoying this *far* too much.” A sharp slap landed on Julie’s ass, the sting making her gasp. She wriggled, the friction against her skin sending jolts of pleasure through her already overheated body.
With slow deliberation, Sian removed her boots one by one, revealing slender feet encased in sheer black nylons. She flexed her toes against the carpet, stretching them before pressing one foot against Julie’s nose. The nylon was warm, rough, and smelled of leather and sweat—intoxicating. Julie whimpered, arching against the pressure as Sian dragged her foot down Julie’s bound torso, stopping just above the damp heat between her thighs.
The other foot descended onto Julie’s left nipple, pressing down just enough to make her moan sharply. Sian rolled her toes against the taut pink flesh, twisting in slow, agonizing circles while Julie’s chest heaved under the stimulation. Every shift of Sian’s foot sent fresh sparks racing through Julie’s body, her muffled cries growing louder as her nipples hardened to aching peaks beneath the nylon’s teasing friction.
Then came the unbearable pause—Sian lifted her foot away, letting Julie whine into the gag before suddenly scraping her sole roughly across both nipples at once. Julie arched violently, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and sweet torment, her skin flushing as Sian chuckled above her. “God, you’re *desperate*,” Sian murmured, dragging her foot lower to trace the edge of the duct tape binding Julie’s waist. “And you haven’t even *earned* your reward yet.”
Julie heard soft footsteps retreat toward the kitchen, the creak of the fridge door, then the clatter of pans. The scents of garlic and herbs bloomed in the air, mingling with Julie’s own arousal—she writhed against the carpet, her thighs slick where they pressed together. The distant clink of silverware sounded obscenely loud in contrast to her muffled whimpers, every second stretching like elastic at breaking point. Julie could hear the rhythmic tap of a wooden spoon against a bowl—and the casual domesticity of it made her squirm harder, her desperation mounting.
The sounds from the kitched died away except for the whirling of the fan oven. Creaking footsteps on the stairs were followed by the boiler flashing up as the shower hissed to life upstairs, steam curling around Sians unseen naked body. Sian was deliberately taking her *time*, and Julie’s mind raced with images: the water sluicing down Sian’s shoulders, her fingers dragging through wet hair, the way she’d step out dripping and wrap herself in a towel that smelled like jasmine. Julie’s hips jerked involuntarily at the fantasy, the tape biting into her wrists as she strained toward the empty air where Sian *should* have been touching her.
Twenty excruciating minutes later, Julie’s thighs were trembling when she finally heard the shower cut off. Footsteps padded back downstairs—lighter now, barefoot—and Julie held her breath as they circled her prone body. A warm hand stroked her hip, fingertips tracing the edge of the tape before Sian’s voice purred, "Miss me?" The scent of jasmine and clean skin washed over Julie as Sian crouched beside her, the brush of loose cotton against Julie’s arm betraying the oversized black t-shirt Sian had thrown on. Julie whimpered, twisting her head blindly toward the sound, her nose bumping against Sian’s bare knee—she could feel the dampness still clinging to Sian’s skin, the heat radiating from her thighs where the shirt rode up.
Sian’s fingers slid between Julieks thighs, then running up her torse to under her chin, tilting her gagged face upward, the jasmine body wash smell replaced with the scent of arousal. "You’re *all* wet, naughty girl." The pad of Sian’s thumb swiped over Julie’s taped lips, smearing the juices that had leaked onto her thighs. "Dripping for me like some desperate little thing." Julie moaned, her hips jerking at the rough grip in her hair as Sian yanked her head back. "And *naughty* girls..." A sharp slap landed on Julie’s ass, the sound cracking through the room—Julie gasped, the sting blooming hot under her skin. "*Need* a spanking."
The second blow came harder, Sian’s palm leaving a red imprint on Julie’s left cheek. Julie arched against her bonds, the tape pulling tight at her wrists as her body tried to writhe away—or into it, she wasn’t sure anymore. The third smack landed lower, right where thigh met ass, and Julie’s muffled scream was half pain, half pleasure. Sian chuckled, her free hand skating up Julie’s spine to fist in her hair again. "Count for me," she murmured, her breath hot against Julie’s ear as she delivered another stinging slap. Julie whimpered, shaking her head—she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the fire spreading across her skin. "Oh, right." Sian’s teeth grazed Julie’s earlobe. "I forgot you were all gagged. How do your knickers taste? Guess I’ll have to *feel* how much you love it instead."
Julie’s thighs were slick, the air thick with the scent of her arousal as Sian’s fingers slid between them again—this time dragging through the mess she’d made, gathering wetness before tracing slow circles just above where Julie needed her most. Every muscle in Julie’s body tensed, her breath coming in ragged bursts through her nose as Sian teased, her touch feather-light and maddening. Then—nothing. The pressure vanished, leaving Julie straining against the tape, her hips jerking uselessly. Sian’s laugh was low, satisfied. "Patience," she chided, her nails raking down Julie’s inner thighs just hard enough to make her gasp. "Or do you need *more* encouragement?"
Another slap landed—this time higher, right where the curve of Julie’s ass met her lower back, the sharp crack reverberating through the room. Julie’s muffled cry dissolved into a shuddering moan as Sian’s palm lingered, the heat radiating through her skin. "See?" Sian murmured, her voice dripping with amusement as she rubbed the sting in slow circles. "Your body *knows* what it wants." Her hand lifted again, and Julie braced—before the next dozen blows landed on her naked bottom. Julie could feels the rush of blood between her tighs increasing with each blow, she strained against the tight bands of tape. As muffled screams more of extavy than pain. Julie’s back arched violently, her thighs trembling as Sian continued the assault on her glowing red bottom.
Then it stopped. Sian grabbed a handful of Julie’s long red hair and pulled her to a kneealing position. Her fingers picked at the tape covering her mouth. Julie was trembling, too weak to spit the gag out. Once Sian had eased the damp cloth out. Thre words fell from her trembling lips: “I love you.”
“I know.” Replied Sian, “Time for a snack before dinner?” And she raised the hem of her T-shirt, parted her thighs and grabbing Julie’s hair, pushed her head forward.
And one final point. Although we have a loving relationship, it usually seems to be me who gets tied up and spanked or whatever more than Julie, I’ve never measured it but 2:1, 3:1 I’m definitely more the bottom than I am the top, so when I get to tie Julie up I make the most of it. And Julie loves it when I do.
Saturday
Julie rolled over and moaned. It was 6pm on saturday night and she was naked. Her hands were tied behind her back with red duct tape as were. Her elbows. More tape went round her body, above and below chest and around her tummy. Her legs were tied together with more tape around her ankles, above and below knees and mid thighs. Her cheecks bulged, stuffed with her own tights and knickers and more red tape covered her mouth. Cottom wool pads covered her eyes held in place with a final strip of red tape.
She struggled, but she couldnt move, see, or make any noise louder than a muffled moan. She was horny as fuck and had been since she had beenn tied up 2 hours ago. She writhed in frustration on the lounge floor, rubbing her tied tits on the carpet, hoping she didnt leave a damp patch ot the rug.
Suddenly, she heard the front door open and her heart skipped a beat. She froze and listened as footsteps got louder, then paused right next to her head. She could smell the familiar scent of her gitlfriemd’s perfume and she whimpered into her gag.
“Mmm, look at you.” Julie felt a finger trace down her spine, and she arched her back instinctively. “All tied up and nowhere to go. How long have you been like this, baby?” Her girlfriend chuckled, and Julie could hear the smirk in her voice. She shook her head violently—she didn’t know how long it had been, only that she was aching for release. “Are you fed up yet?”
Julie moaned louder into her gag, straining against the tape as if trying to communicate. Her girlfriend knelt beside her, tugging playfully at the tape binding her thighs. “Oh, I think you’re enjoying this *far* too much.” A sharp slap landed on Julie’s ass, the sting making her gasp. She wriggled, the friction against her skin sending jolts of pleasure through her already overheated body.
With slow deliberation, Sian removed her boots one by one, revealing slender feet encased in sheer black nylons. She flexed her toes against the carpet, stretching them before pressing one foot against Julie’s nose. The nylon was warm, rough, and smelled of leather and sweat—intoxicating. Julie whimpered, arching against the pressure as Sian dragged her foot down Julie’s bound torso, stopping just above the damp heat between her thighs.
The other foot descended onto Julie’s left nipple, pressing down just enough to make her moan sharply. Sian rolled her toes against the taut pink flesh, twisting in slow, agonizing circles while Julie’s chest heaved under the stimulation. Every shift of Sian’s foot sent fresh sparks racing through Julie’s body, her muffled cries growing louder as her nipples hardened to aching peaks beneath the nylon’s teasing friction.
Then came the unbearable pause—Sian lifted her foot away, letting Julie whine into the gag before suddenly scraping her sole roughly across both nipples at once. Julie arched violently, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and sweet torment, her skin flushing as Sian chuckled above her. “God, you’re *desperate*,” Sian murmured, dragging her foot lower to trace the edge of the duct tape binding Julie’s waist. “And you haven’t even *earned* your reward yet.”
Julie heard soft footsteps retreat toward the kitchen, the creak of the fridge door, then the clatter of pans. The scents of garlic and herbs bloomed in the air, mingling with Julie’s own arousal—she writhed against the carpet, her thighs slick where they pressed together. The distant clink of silverware sounded obscenely loud in contrast to her muffled whimpers, every second stretching like elastic at breaking point. Julie could hear the rhythmic tap of a wooden spoon against a bowl—and the casual domesticity of it made her squirm harder, her desperation mounting.
The sounds from the kitched died away except for the whirling of the fan oven. Creaking footsteps on the stairs were followed by the boiler flashing up as the shower hissed to life upstairs, steam curling around Sians unseen naked body. Sian was deliberately taking her *time*, and Julie’s mind raced with images: the water sluicing down Sian’s shoulders, her fingers dragging through wet hair, the way she’d step out dripping and wrap herself in a towel that smelled like jasmine. Julie’s hips jerked involuntarily at the fantasy, the tape biting into her wrists as she strained toward the empty air where Sian *should* have been touching her.
Twenty excruciating minutes later, Julie’s thighs were trembling when she finally heard the shower cut off. Footsteps padded back downstairs—lighter now, barefoot—and Julie held her breath as they circled her prone body. A warm hand stroked her hip, fingertips tracing the edge of the tape before Sian’s voice purred, "Miss me?" The scent of jasmine and clean skin washed over Julie as Sian crouched beside her, the brush of loose cotton against Julie’s arm betraying the oversized black t-shirt Sian had thrown on. Julie whimpered, twisting her head blindly toward the sound, her nose bumping against Sian’s bare knee—she could feel the dampness still clinging to Sian’s skin, the heat radiating from her thighs where the shirt rode up.
Sian’s fingers slid between Julieks thighs, then running up her torse to under her chin, tilting her gagged face upward, the jasmine body wash smell replaced with the scent of arousal. "You’re *all* wet, naughty girl." The pad of Sian’s thumb swiped over Julie’s taped lips, smearing the juices that had leaked onto her thighs. "Dripping for me like some desperate little thing." Julie moaned, her hips jerking at the rough grip in her hair as Sian yanked her head back. "And *naughty* girls..." A sharp slap landed on Julie’s ass, the sound cracking through the room—Julie gasped, the sting blooming hot under her skin. "*Need* a spanking."
The second blow came harder, Sian’s palm leaving a red imprint on Julie’s left cheek. Julie arched against her bonds, the tape pulling tight at her wrists as her body tried to writhe away—or into it, she wasn’t sure anymore. The third smack landed lower, right where thigh met ass, and Julie’s muffled scream was half pain, half pleasure. Sian chuckled, her free hand skating up Julie’s spine to fist in her hair again. "Count for me," she murmured, her breath hot against Julie’s ear as she delivered another stinging slap. Julie whimpered, shaking her head—she couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the fire spreading across her skin. "Oh, right." Sian’s teeth grazed Julie’s earlobe. "I forgot you were all gagged. How do your knickers taste? Guess I’ll have to *feel* how much you love it instead."
Julie’s thighs were slick, the air thick with the scent of her arousal as Sian’s fingers slid between them again—this time dragging through the mess she’d made, gathering wetness before tracing slow circles just above where Julie needed her most. Every muscle in Julie’s body tensed, her breath coming in ragged bursts through her nose as Sian teased, her touch feather-light and maddening. Then—nothing. The pressure vanished, leaving Julie straining against the tape, her hips jerking uselessly. Sian’s laugh was low, satisfied. "Patience," she chided, her nails raking down Julie’s inner thighs just hard enough to make her gasp. "Or do you need *more* encouragement?"
Another slap landed—this time higher, right where the curve of Julie’s ass met her lower back, the sharp crack reverberating through the room. Julie’s muffled cry dissolved into a shuddering moan as Sian’s palm lingered, the heat radiating through her skin. "See?" Sian murmured, her voice dripping with amusement as she rubbed the sting in slow circles. "Your body *knows* what it wants." Her hand lifted again, and Julie braced—before the next dozen blows landed on her naked bottom. Julie could feels the rush of blood between her tighs increasing with each blow, she strained against the tight bands of tape. As muffled screams more of extavy than pain. Julie’s back arched violently, her thighs trembling as Sian continued the assault on her glowing red bottom.
Then it stopped. Sian grabbed a handful of Julie’s long red hair and pulled her to a kneealing position. Her fingers picked at the tape covering her mouth. Julie was trembling, too weak to spit the gag out. Once Sian had eased the damp cloth out. Thre words fell from her trembling lips: “I love you.”
“I know.” Replied Sian, “Time for a snack before dinner?” And she raised the hem of her T-shirt, parted her thighs and grabbing Julie’s hair, pushed her head forward.