Stories of Tie Up Games

Preface:
Having reached an age where it feels not only natural but necessary to set down the experiences of my youth, I’ve decided to test my writing skills once more and gather a handful of fond memories into a series of tales. Before I begin, it seems only fair to offer the reader a glimpse of what awaits within.

These pages hold moments that shaped me—some small, some significant, all softened by the passage of time. They are not meant as history or instruction, but simply as stories. In this collection, those stories lean toward adult themes and explore elements of consensual bondage as I experienced them in my younger years. While some details have been embellished for color or pacing, the core events, the personalities involved, and—most importantly—the mutual willingness of every participant remain true to life. Names and locations have been changed to protect privacy.

Each tale centers on a consensual power exchange scenario. There was never any real force, coercion, or deception involved; any sense of danger existed only within the boundaries of role play, something I trust will be evident as the stories unfold. The dynamics portrayed generally reflect a male dominant, female submissive framework, occasionally involving more than one partner, and are written from a heterosexual perspective.

My storytelling tends to be expansive—some might say long winded—but for me, the build up is as essential as the resolution. These narratives are intended for mature adults only. If you are under eighteen, please set this aside and go enjoy the world beyond your screen. If you are between eighteen and twenty five, you may find more value in creating your own stories than in reading mine.
With that, we begin.

My stories generally fall into one of three timelines: my “college years,” which includes some interesting events that occurred both at and during the summers of my collegiate career, my young adulthood after college (which I will refer to as the “middle years”, and my early maturity or “past present” experiences, for lack of a better description. Interestingly enough, it’s that later slice of life that produced some of the most memorable moments. I am married now, having found my true love later in life, and NONE of those experiences will grace this or any other page, and at no time during my marriage have I ever strayed, so if that is implied in my stories somehow, forgive me as I try to stay to the basic truth of the matter.

At any rate, three recurring female protagonists appear throughout these stories, each based on a real-life partners of mine. I refer to them as “MJ,” “Kate,” and “Jen.” MJ is a shorter redhead, Jen is tall and athletically built with dirty-blond hair, and Kate is the epitome of the beautiful blond you might expect to see on a beach or in a club.

I have a type, as you’ll probably notice, and all three are well built from a male perspective. I dated each of them off and on for several years, drawn back again and again by their adventurous nature and their willingness to accommodate a certain kink of mine. At times, they even seemed to be as interested in bondage as I was—sometimes more.
There are other wonderful women I’ve been intimate with, many of whom also took part in bondage adventures, but MJ, Kate, and Jen were involved in so many of them that they naturally became the leading ladies in many adventures you may find here.
Description:

MJ dark Redhead, fair complected , 5’04” , 110 lbs with ample and likely enhanced breasts.

That being said (again). Here we go.......

A Weekend in the Middle Years with MJ


Like the majority of my stories, this actually occurred, though it may have unfolded over several weeks or a wider array of times. I’ve taken the liberty of condensing the timeline to keep the proverbial ball moving.

I started this story years ago and archived it, like many others.

I was working on a writing style that uses both my perspective and the perspective—at least as I believe it was observed—of my partner. I was reading through it and decided I’d put it out there and see whether readers liked it or not.

In my mind, it’s like the camera changes perspective. Let me know what you think.

I had a fabulous weekend that I couldn’t wait to share. I bumped into an old girlfriend, and after a bit of reminiscing, we had an outstanding bondage adventure.

So here we go…

The weekend started harmlessly enough, with no real plans except to watch the Patriots game on Sunday and keep up to date on the AL East race. I had agreed to attend a friend’s cookout.

Friday night approached, and I drove over to my friend and his wife’s house on the south side of town.

I should preface the story by advising the reader that these two had introduced me to an ex girlfriend named “MJ” several years ago. Anyone who has read my prior stories (yes, many of them are in fact true) would know that MJ enjoyed bondage almost as much as I did, and we had quite a few adventures. Unfortunately, a little over a year ago she and I had broken it off. I had initiated the breakup because I was pretty sure she was falling in love with me, and try as I might, I just didn’t have the same deep feelings. We certainly connected on a sexual level, but otherwise friends would have described us as mismatched. She is a raven haired, fair complexioned redhead, shorter than some at about 5'5", but with a body that made you want to stand up and cheer.

I arrived at the cookout shortly after 6 p.m. and almost immediately noticed the blue Honda parked out front. I was annoyed that there were more cars than I expected, and the voices and music coming from the backyard made it clear the party was already underway.

I walked in through the front yard and was greeted by my friend’s wife, who kissed me on the cheek and took the bottle of wine and the two eight packs of Guinness I had brought. She gestured toward the backyard, where about twenty people were gathered—talking, drinking, and even a few swimming in the pool and Jacuzzi that took up almost a third of the yard.

I poured a thick glass of Guinness, exchanged pleasantries with a few guests, and mingled around the group. About thirty minutes later, I heard a familiar laugh and turned to see MJ walking through the sliding glass doors leading out to the yard. She had a glass of wine in her hand and was giggling at something a female guest had said.

She was wearing a silver and black one piece dress with spaghetti straps that hugged all the right areas. Dark nylons covered her legs, accented by the high hem of her dress. Black stiletto heels made her seem taller than I remembered, and the slightest hint of red lipstick accented her smile. She held herself well and always seemed to have a mischievous glint in her eyes, accompanied by the small wrinkles that formed when she smiled. I felt that familiar twinge I always got when I was around her.

I wasn’t sure if this was going to be uncomfortable for either of us. We had ended our last relationship on good terms, with my explanation that while I loved our games together, our relationship probably wouldn’t develop into anything more than that, and I didn’t want to hurt her in any way. She had thanked me for my honesty, and that had been that. Fourteen months later, there she was, still looking as fetching as ever, and I felt that familiar twinge.

As I drank the rest of my glass, I was joined by my friend, who had obviously seen me looking over at MJ.
“You know she broke up with her last boyfriend last week,” he said. “Funny thing is, he looked a lot like you.”

“But nothing has changed,” I said to him. “I still don’t want to hurt her, no matter how much I’m attracted to her.”

He simply replied with a smile, “She’s a big girl. Let her worry about hurt.”

With that, he stood and walked back to the house, and I sat thinking about what he had said. MJ was busy in conversation with other guests and noticed me from across the pool.
She smiled and gave a little wave by wiggling her fingers. I smiled back, gave a short wave, and opened another beer.

I was halfway through my second when I felt a tap on my shoulder. MJ stood behind me with a big smile. I stood to greet her, and she embraced me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We spent the next hour sharing stories about the last year and our various relationships.

MJ commented on how she and her last boyfriend had recently called it quits—ironically because she didn’t feel as strongly about him as he did about her. We laughed. “Besides,” she said, “he just didn’t have the same… passion… as you.” This led to a short pause in the conversation where we looked into each other’s eyes and then laughed again, both knowing exactly what she was referring to.

We were joined by my friend and his wife, followed by several other guests, and the night flew by. At 10 p.m., many of the guests were leaving. MJ walked up to me and told me her ride was heading out, and she would have to go.

I quickly offered to drive her home, and after the standard “Oh, don’t bother” banter back and forth, she smiled and ran off to tell her ride she’d be able to get home on her own.

We lingered until all of the guests had left and helped pick up the backyard with my friends. When they went inside to clean the kitchen, MJ and I sat alone together on a swing.

I started with an apology for how we had ended our relationship. MJ told me not to worry—that I had only been honest, and while it hurt a bit, it was better to let her know where we stood than to let her get hurt later.

Then she broke the ice with, “ I really did like getting tied up by you though.”

That made me laugh. I smiled, told her that I enjoyed tying her up also and admitted that I still often fantasized about our past “games”. I was holding my breath for what was coming next.

“Well, maybe we should try it again,” MJ said, leaning toward me, our faces inches apart. “ I don’t have plans for anything this weekend.”

I stammered a little and tried to explain that I didn’t want to lead her on so that I could just have sex with her for the weekend.

MJ smiled back and placed her hand on my thigh, “I’m not looking for a romantic commitment, silly.” Then, leaning in with a whisper, “I just want you to tie me up and drive me crazy like you used to. “

I was, of course, overjoyed, but I tried to hide my excitement. I asked what she had in mind, and MJ said she would like one more weekend of “games,” if I was up for it.

I thought about it for a minute and asked whether she wanted it to be more “planned” or more “spontaneous.”

MJ, never one to disappoint, said, “Hey, you know what I like and what I don’t. Stop overthinking it. We’re both single and willing. I know you’re not going to hurt me, and you know I like to get into the character of our little play. But there’s no pressure here. If you have some time next weekend when we can get together, that would be fantastic. Even if it’s just for some drinks, I’d love to spend more time with you.”
This truly did relieve a lot of the thoughts that had been swirling around in my head.

“OK,” I said to her. “Let me think on it, and I’ll give you a call Monday or Tuesday with a plan.”

Shortly after midnight, I drove her home, gave her a quick peck on the lips as she stepped out of the car, and with a soft “see you tomorrow,” she walked into her condo. I confess I watched her backside as she sauntered away from the car.

*****************MJ*****************

Friday night came slowly for MJ—slow as molasses.

He had called and texted her on Monday, and then again on Tuesday, and she was ecstatic. MJ had not realized how much of a thrill it was for her to think about spending the night with him again. She knew instinctively that, in the long run, they were not destined to be together, but perhaps that was part of the electric attraction she felt. They could leave it all out on the field without any concern that later it might become something they would regret or have to treat as a “relationship building” moment.

His first messages on Monday were pretty simple. He said he was glad they had managed to bump into each other at the party and that he had enjoyed their talk. Later, he texted that he was looking forward to the evening.

On Tuesday, he had been a bit more cryptic. He said that his friend John was having a small party at his loft apartment downtown, and that if she wanted to swing by, he had plans for after the party.

But that had been it. After she accepted and said she would be there around 7 p.m., he sent her the address—167 E. Main, Apartment 632—followed by a heart emoji. After that, radio silence.

She had stopped herself from calling or texting on Wednesday or Thursday, and when Friday finally came, she found herself watching the clock as evening approached. At last, it was 5:30. Done with work, she drove home and began deciding what to wear for the evening. After showering, applying a light layer of body lotion, makeup, and perfume, she took a moment to admire herself in the bathroom mirror of her condo.

MJ was very proud of her appearance. At 5'4”, she maintained her body with daily runs, yoga, and trips to the gym three times a week—four if she was staying at a hotel with a fitness center. Her raven red hair was full of body and cascaded below her shoulders, meticulously maintained by her favorite hairdresser.

She dressed in a light gray fitted suit coat and a matching skirt with a hemline that fell just past halfway down her firmly toned thighs, revealing the silky, slightly darker than skin tone hose she loved to wear daily.

A light blue button up blouse was open to the third button, revealing a modest amount of cleavage from her firm 34C chest. She flirted with the idea of unbuttoning one more, but after bending forward and adjusting her breasts, she decided the black lace bra underneath was better kept hidden as a treasure than exposed as a temptation.

Makeup adjusted, hair fluffed, and hose straightened, MJ Banks exited her condo, walked to the elevator, down to the lobby, and out the door. The sky was just beginning to shift from day to evening, hints of sunset glimmering off the surrounding buildings. The drive to his friend’s condo was short, and as she turned the corner, MJ remembered visiting this building with him once before for another small get together. One sixty seven East Main was a six or seven story factory converted into condos.

The brick exterior included an old, now unused smokestack, large nine foot windows overlooking the street from each apartment, and balconies on several of the more expansive units.

Arriving at the center door of the building, MJ found herself looking at a square set of buttons on an intercom, beckoning visitors to ring their respective rooms for admittance. The heavy steel doors, the metal plaque with the numbers “167,” and the modern industrial lighting impressed her with their clean, updated appeal in a neighborhood that was clearly up and coming. A police patrol car drifted by slowly, the officer at the wheel offering a friendly smile as he coasted down the otherwise empty, well lit street.

MJ pressed “632” and then the “Call” button. After a few beeps, the door in front of her buzzed, and the click of the latch signaled that the automatic lock had disengaged. She glanced up at the windows, trying to guess which set might belong to Apartment 632, but after a moment of holding the door ajar, she gave up and stepped inside.

The stairwell greeted her with concrete flights of stairs, brick and mortar walls, and miscellaneous pipes and fixtures left over from the building’s original layout. Each floor had two flights of stairs circling a large square column with metal doors that appeared to be storage units or remnants of an old elevator shaft. Each landing was nearly ten feet wide and four feet deep, with a solid metal door leading to a hallway that provided access to the apartments.

MJ realized there was probably an elevator somewhere, but she was intrigued by the exposed brick and pipes. She remembered that the last time they were at this building, he had brought her up the stairwell, and that the elevators were at the other end, making it a bit more of a trek. She began climbing toward the sixth floor, her heels leaving a distinct click clop as she made her way upward. Opaque glass blocks allowed the evening light to filter into the stairwell, and the shadows thrown against the central column gave an eerie feeling to her ascent. During the entire climb, MJ realized she hadn’t passed a single other occupant willing to forgo the elevator after the second floor.

Just as she rounded the flight of stairs halfway between the fifth and sixth floors, a glint of gold caught her eye in the corner of the landing. When she reached it, she stepped closer to see what it was—a gold quarter lying on its side, tail end facing upward. She leaned over to pick it up.

Suddenly, from behind a gloved hand clamped over her mouth while a arm covered in a gray sweat shirt wrapped around her torso , pinning her arms and pushed her into the corner.

MJ let out a surprised gasp and a muffled yelp, but was met with a harsh, whispered raspy voice that commanded, “Shut your mouth...shut it or I'll hurt you”

MJ found herself unexpectedly scared, and her mind raced. Was this Him? She could not tell by the voice, and she was being handled pretty roughly. As these thoughts raced through her head, she felt her hands being yanked behind her back, and a loop of something that felt rigid, plastic, was wrapped around them. Then with a “zip” it was pulled tight. Sinching her crossed wrists behind her.

MJ tried to look back at her attacker, but his body pressed hers further into the corner, mashing her chest into the exposed brick so that she could not move. She was going to ask if this was in fact him, when she found her hair yanked back sharply.

This caused her to gasp out, and when she opened her mouth, something, a cloth? A rag? Something was thrust into her mouth, filling it. As she reflexively bit down on the substance, the attacker's other hand suddenly pressed what must have been a strip of duct tape over her mouth, sealing it full of the packing. Before she could react further, two more strips were added, securely taping her lips shut with a mouth full of cloth muffling her protests.

Still pinned against the corner, MJ flexed her arms but found the loop of plastic held her wrists firm. She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the tape from her lower face, but once again her hair was yanked back, immobilizing her head. She could see out of the corner of her eyes that the man who was assaulting her was wearing a black ski mask. That was the last she saw as a black cloth was brought up to her face, covering her eyes and tied snuggly behind her head, blindfolding her.

After having been effectively bound, gagged, and blindfolded in a matter of seconds, MJ began to feel a set of rough hands that were patting her down, running from her outer thighs up her torso to under her arms, then across her chest and down to the waist, and lastly between her legs. The frisking seemed to be more a search than a molestation. MJ felt her cell phone and wallet being removed, and for the first time, she began to fear that this really was not him, but that she may be in the midst of being robbed….and possibly worse.

For some strange reason, her growing fear was matched by a growing excitement. MJ could feel her nipples hardening against the pressure and rough exterior of the exposed brick she was pressed against.

Her breathing was deep and quick, and a tingle was starting to become apparent in her crotch.
She had not actually tried to cry out from under the repressive force of the stuffing in her mouth and the tape over her lips. She did test to see if it was secure. It was, and she found that she could not even manage to get her tongue past the wadding to see if she could loosen the sticky tape. She did try to ask what was happening, but found that all she could manage was a “Mffgghht Hffepnngghg” in a soft and muffled series of moans.

Suddenly, one arm grabbed the back of her neck while another grabbed her upper arm, and she was forced to climb another flight of stairs. The blindfold made this a treacherous event. She stumbled several times and found that he roughly stopped her from falling by pulling back on her upper arm. Another time, she stumbled to her knees, and he had brought her to her feet by wrapping his arms around her from behind and yanking her to her feet, one of his hands roughly taking hold of her breasts, squeezing while lifting her to her feet. That alone made her gasp out as much as she could under the tight gag.

Then she was forced to go up two more flights, then back down one …or perhaps two more and back up another again. After ten minutes of this MJ was confused as to which floor she was on or which direction she was facing. She was startled when, from somewhere below, she heard two voices and footsteps climbing the stairs. It sounded like two women talking as they were climbing upwards toward, well, wherever they were.

MJ heard her masked attacker open a door that as close to where they were standing. . She was almost lifted off her feet backwards and pushed through what had to be the door threshold. She found herself with her back against a hard wall, as a hand clamped down over the tape covering her mouth and the masked man’s body crushed against hers.

She heard first the click of the door closing and then, moments later the slightly muffled voices of the couple passing by just outside with footsteps climbing the stairs, just feet away from where she found herself trapped. She realized that he must have quickly pinned her inside a closet of a maintenance room, hiding from the witnesses who had almost stumbled upon them. Suddenly, she felt the rush of fear. Maybe this really was not him, and that could have been her last chance at being rescued.

MJ took air in her nose, prepared to yell as loud as the stuffing and her taped lips would allow, but a hand circled her throat, and she felt the even sharper pain of fear course through her body, as she remained silent and motionless while the voices faded and then disappeared.

After a minute of silence, where MJ could only make out the now steady breathing sounds of her captor as she was again roughly pulled forward. She sensed they passed through what sounded like an open door, then another. Next, she felt a rug under her feet as she was half pushed, half prodded down a hallway.

Mj's mind raced, fear, excitement, and confusion all swirled around and above all, she realized that she was being led down what must be an open hallway of rooms, bound, gagged, and blindfolded by a man wearing a ski mask with a hand wrapped around her neck. She suddenly began to worry that perhaps she had not left enough clues to her location for her well-being.

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears as she marched forward, led by this stranger's rough grasp. She thought to cry out, to struggle, even to try to run. But the confusion, fear, and excitement acted in unison, and she allowed herself to be prodded forward still. MJ tried to look out from under the blindfold but found that the cloth was fine enough and tightly tied so that there was not the slightest hint of light emitting from beneath the folds. She could hear voices and movements from behind what had to have been doors along the hallway and she knew she was just feet from occupied .

Again, she thought to herself, “Should I try to call out, kick, stomp my feet.. what should I do ?”

After what seemed to be several hundred feet, she could hear the scrape of a key against a lock then the slight squeak of a door. MJ was thrust forward and taking three steps to steady herself, she heard the door close, then lock behind her. She stood still and listened. There was the sound of traffic and a breeze coming from in front of her. Otherwise, complete silence.

MJ was not even sure if her captor had come in the room with her. She stood and waited, stretching her neck in an attempt to dislodge the gag or create a space in the blindfold; neither happened. She tried to rotate her wrists, but they were held securely. So she stood there, listening.

For five minutes, noting happened. MJ heard the clink of ice cubes in a refrigerator automatic icemaker somewhere to her right, a honk of a horn in the distance in front of her, and the hum and clicks of a dryer behind her, but no voices, no movement, no ...orders.

Finally, MJ dared to try to talk, to ask what, why, or who, but her voice was so muted by the stuffing and tape that there was little more than intelligible ‘muumphs’ that came out.

Then suddenly, she felt the back of her shirt grabbed, and she was manhandled forward into a room. She could hear and feel her shoes falling on wood floors, the echo indicated that this was an open space, indoors to be sure, there was no breeze or the typical sounds, but was it a large room or what?

She stepped as quickly as she could forward until she was roughly pulled to a stop and, after the sound of metal scraping along wood, was pushed down onto a chair.

Her arms were pulled up and back over the back of what had to be a kitchen chair or similar, and MJ felt her legs spread and first one ankle, then the other, tied to the legs with rope of some sort. The bindings was tight enough to eliminate the possibility of movement from that spot until she somehow found a way to loosen them.

After both feet were secured tightly, she felt the body of the man who had captured her move behind her and grab both wrists above the plastic tie.

Her business suit jacket was pulled from her shoulders and yanked down from her back so that it dangled around her upper arms. She heard, then felt the snip of the plastic ties … but before she had a chance to rub her wrists, the jacket was pulled clear and she felt loops of rope encircling her wrists.
First several closely wound loops, next criss-crossing, circling and between them, finally pulling the ropes down and back, where they must have been tied to a rear cross bar below the seat.

MJ pulled against the restraints with no avail and grunted against her gag. The tape held firm and she couldn’t get the edges of the tape to pull away from her skin.

Then a set of hands started to loop a rope around her elbows, pulling them together. This caused her chest to strain against her shirt, and once again, MJ could feel her nipples tightening and scratching against the fabric of her blouse. Her tourmentor must have sensed this as he stopped the cinching of the elbows, which initially caused MJ some relief. but this was short-lived as she suddenly felt a hand grab the front of her shirt between the open buttons and then yank down, ripping buttons free and with the popping off of every last button on her expensive silk blouse, exposing a sheer black bra cradling her tits to the movement and ineffectively blocking them from the cool air.

MJ was astonished and so surprised that she tried again to yell at this brute, this cruel clod with all her might, but all that issued forth was more nonsense and muffled protest.

As suspected, once the restriction of her shirt was removed, her new keeper returned to the loops of rope that circled her upper arms and pulled together. This stretched the limits of her mostly aesthetic bra and she thought she could hear he seams rip as her shoulders were thrust back and together.

Next, she felt the unknown villain move in front of her and his rough hands, now free of gloves, spread her legs apart and began to bind her upper thighs to the upper legs of the chair, spreading her open and forcing her skirt back toward her bottom. When this was secure, she felt the unknown step away...then nothing.

Moments, then minutes. A tick of a clock, the creak of the chair against the ropes, a drip from a faucet, nothing other but silence.

As she stopped struggling to listen, she strained to hear if he was nearby, but could not tell.

The fresh air which was coming from somewhere in front of her had turned colder and she could feel the breeze against both her crotch, barely covered with sheer black lace panties and her similarly covered chest. The cool air tingled, almost like small bites. MJ found herself flexing muscle and form against this sensation, trying to fend off the growing arousal.

Excited, frightened, aroused, and angered all at once, she was not sure how to react next, so she waited.

Mute, though she had almost no choice, and motionless, though this was the only possibility also.

She was, she realized, exposed and helpless to a mysterious attacker who at this moment, could do whatever she wanted to her.

She thought about this in the growing silence, and the reality of it caused a sexual stimulation that almost caused her to cum spontaneously. She realized she did not care if this was “him” or not. If she was in the middle of a game or actually being molested by a stranger, she was living out a fantacy and her body had absorbed it, for better or worse, and was going to take advantage of it.

After what seemed like an hour, but was only likely minutes, she distinctly heard a refrigerator door open to her right. Then the clink of glass followed by the pop of a bottle cap. This was followed by the sound of someone, no, certainly it was her ..kidnapper… , drinking liquid from the bottle. Slowly, methodically, and growing closer.

Then she felt his presence, his heat, in front of her, then kneeling in front of her bound, spread legs she was forced by default to straddle his torso as he pressed closer.


She could tell the unknown man was on his knees and in front of her. Not quite touching, but it was almost as if there was no space between them and yet a huge void at the same time. She anticipated being touched, but it didn’t come. She held her breath waiting.

Straining again, to see against the blindfold with no avail, she finally felt his arm brush her breasts and then his fingers tugged at the corner of the tape securing her lips, pulling back and away, freeing her mouth which still held the saliva soaked rag filling it. Then his fingers deftly and slowly pulled the rag free, ungagging her completely.

She still remained mute, pursing her lips and waiting to find out what he was going to do next. She was rewarded when a bottleneck of a cold beer was placed against her lips. Thirsty, a dry mouth and a desire to accept whatever her capture presented her caused MJ to gulp at the beer. She gladly wrapped her lips around the neck while he slowly lifted and let the liquid drain into her mouth.

It seemed so refreshing and magnificent, like no other beer before, like no other liquid before, she was overcome with desire against her own will, against her own right mind. MJ realized how phallic this drink was, and when the last of the beer went down her throat, she moved her lips slowly down the length of the glass neck then back, running her lips around the rim when she pulled back enough.

When the bottle was taken from her lips, it was slowly dragged down her face, the nape of her neck and then down the front of her chest, ever slowly moving back first, to her her right, then her left nipple over the brazier and then slowly down her stomach, causing goose bumps to arise wherever it caressed.

MJ first bit her lip trying not to yell. But when the bottle made it down below her belly button, she heard herself say in a horse voice, “Please.........., Please fuck me. I don't care who you are, I dont know if you are my friend, my lover, a robber, a kidnapper or a rapist, I just don't care right now, I just need you inside me now..please for gods sake fuck me...oh god help me please “

As she uttered these words, her lips were met with her captors, and they kissed with a ferocity she had not felt before, mashing, biting, kissing, tongues exploring, flickering and darting in and out. Her hands reflexively opened and closed, still secured behind the back of the chair as she grasped only air, trying in vain for a tangible item. As if to emphasize her point, she thrust her breasts and crotch in his direction as best she could against the bonds that held them.

Then a single finger caressed her abs, back and forth, then two fingers, three. Ever so softly the fingers glided over her tight stomach, making her take short breaths in and holding it ever so long. Then the hand traveled down to her panties, pulling them back and away from her mound, with a single finger caressing, rubbing in a circular motion.

She gasped when she felt the cold neck of the bottle pierce her wet pussy as if it were a rock-hard penis. This was slow and gentle, with only an inch then two pressed forth. She stopped straining against the ropes holding her to the chair, and when the bottle began a slow back and forth motion, she began to moan, and moan loudly.

While the bottle continued its intrusion, she almost missed her panties being ripped off her body.

She was thrashing in the chair and breathing hard in between deep gasps, trying hard to bite her lips and keep them closed lest she scream out and cause this to end.

Suddenly, the bottle stopped mid thrust, and a cloth, which by texture, taste, and smell could have only been her recently removed panties, were thrust into her mouth. The silk cloth was quickly secured between her lips by what seemed to be a material thin enough to fit securely between her teeth, but long enough to be tied very tightly under her hair, behind her head. This cleve gag effectivly supressed he moans.

With that, suddenly as it began, the bottle had been removed and MJ was left panting, so close to orgasm, but so far as well.

She waited with curiosity, no longer fearing what may come but anxiously awaiting it, regardless of the outcome. Impatiently, she strained against the ropes, finding they had no give. She rotated her head and neck, stretching and straining, but like her other bondage, the gag was firmly in place.

She was rewarded moments later when, from behind, her captor removed her blindfold. Blinking in the light, MJ allowed her eyes to adjust and first looked about her cage.

She found that she was in the middle of a loft. It looked vaguely familiar. As she strained to look behind her, she saw a kitchen on one side, open to the living area, with wooden floors, exposed brick and pipe and industrial ceilings. To her left was a set of stairs that must lead to a loft above her head, which she could not see from her captive position. And a hallway which likely led to a bathroom area.

Directly in front of her were several large windows who’s binds had been pulled down. She estimated them to run from 2 feet off the floor to almost 12 feet above the floor. The windows and blinds stretched the length of the apartment, almost 25 feet.

Directly in front of her stood a full-length mirror with a wood frame and support on castors. It had just been pushed into place by a tall male dressed entirely in black up to the ski mask that covered his face.

The mirror was slowly turned to face MJ and when exposed to it, she gasped inward..MJ had always been proud of her looks, but now ….she was breathless.

Directly in front of her was a securely chair tied and cleve gagged red head whose shirt was torn away from her, exposing a sheer black bra barely holding onto its contents, hardened and dark nipples poking almost through the material. The two round breasts thrust up and out by the tightly bound arms as if pointing to the sky in some distant distance.

Her eyes followed the natural progression down, down her tight abs, down past her inward belly button and down past her hips.

With her skirt pulled back and panties removed, her most private area was completely exposed. MJ had kept a neatly shaved “landing patch” of pubic hair, but at this angle it looked more like an inviting arrow to her womanhood, which was moist with desire.

MJ stretched her neck against the pull of the white cloth that made up her cleve gag. She was transfixed, staring at her own reflection as the ends of the gag were pulled deep against the corners of her mouth. The stretch pulled the gag in deep and strained the material taught against her neck. She noticed a small portion of her black panties, stuffed in behind the cleve, sticking out when she gritted her teeth against the gag, exposing her teeth .

She struggled mightily against her bonds, wanting touch herself, to increase the pleasure that the sight of her helpless, bound body brought to her and realized in an instant why so many men desired lovers in bondage simply for the visual effect.

It was stunning.

MJ almost forgot about the man in the room until, with a click, the lights went out. The loft apartment was cast into darkness, and in the moments it took MJ to adjust her vision, the mirror was rolled away and he, whoever HE was, began to raise the blinds of the windows.

She watched in growing horror as each blind was raised. MJ could see into an adjacent building across the street. One by one, the six sets of blinds were raised completely to the top of the windows, and from her position MJ could see directly into the opposite sets of apartments on the same floor level. . The various windows contained a number of young men and women, some together in their living rooms, some alone. She counted at least six occupied apartments that were only a hundred feet away or less. She could make out the color of furniture, style of lighting and clothing on the occupants as they puttered around

MJ felt a rush of embarrassment as she realized she was sitting exposed to the window, bound, gagged, and for all intents, naked for all to see. She pulled at her bindings even harder but found her efforts useless. She tried to bounce in the chair, but could not get enough leverage to move it significantly. Her encased lips held back the stream of obscenities she was trying to scream out as only a series of muffled syllables and mushed words came forth. She twisted her head and as much of her body as was possible seeking refuge from exposure, but to no avail, she was tightly secured to the chair and face to face with the occupants just a stones throw from where she was bound.

The masked man chuckled and stepped in front of MJ, just a few feet away from the window, then waved up and down at one couple across the way. MJ watched as even though they appeared to be looking out the window directly at him and her, they did not seem to notice the masked man and bound damsel in the apartment in right in front of them.

MJ realized that the darkened apartment's window must act as a mirror against the evening lights, and they, for all intents and purposes, were concealed behind two-way glass, able to see out, but others were unable to see in. The bound damsel and her captor, hidden from their sight.

MJ relaxed, but even as she did, the masked man turned and approached her. She murmured with apprehension, and a momentary bit of anger at having some of her favorite articles of clothing ripped to shreds and then being exposed, if not just in her mind, to the men and women occupying residences across the street.

Sher anger quickly disappeared when the man stopped and knelt slowly in front of her, his hands caressing her legs and moving softly up her body to her breasts, running slowly along the firm underside of her swelling bosom and then over to her nipples. Her anger disappeared as the hot rush of desire and the electric tingle of near orgasm returned to her body. She shook with anticipation.

As he slowly bent forward, he moved the mask partially up his face, revealing pursed lips and a sly smile as with a lick of his tongue, her kidnapper buried his head in her lap.

Spasmatically, her head yanked back, and her eyelids clamped shut, trying to hold back a rushing tide.

As he began to systematically tear away every ounce of restraint she still had his hands roamed up her torso taking grasp of her breasts over the bra. Like grasping a ripe melon, he squeezed and released, timing it with his head and tongue movements. His index fingers curled and hooked the upper edges of the bra cup pulling them below her nipples, Once exposed he began to pinch, tweek and outline those two dark circles that made for a prominent point in her breasts.

He blew softly over her pubis and then demurely kissed her down below. When the masked man combined a tongue with his exploring fingertips, twirling her G-spot, pinching her nipples and licking her ready pussy, it only took a minute or less for MJ to begin exploding in orgasm.

Heat and throbbing motion rushed through her body. The bound redhead shook as wave after wave of pleasure ran over her, the cries of passion almost completely muffled by the gag. Her fingers outstretched and then curled in the energy of the moment, her heart almost bursting from her chest.

“GGGMMMMMPPPPHHHHGHHHTTHHPPHHFFFFFFFF” MJ cried out through the gag as she came.

MJ had the most intense orgasm of her life. Again and again, she spasmed. Just as she came for the second time, she opened her eyes and looked at the couples across the street, clueless to the intense activity just outside their sight.

Only once she finished convulsing did he pull his head back from its task. With tear strewn eyes she looked to her captor, grateful and humble. She was spent and felt momentarily paralyzed from the efforts.

A glint appeared in the eyes under the ski mask and he slowly made his way to his feet, unzipping his fly and unbuttoning the pants. As he stood and moved just to the right and front of her shoulder, he pulled down his boxer – briefs and let them slip to his feet.

MJ, now gaining back some strength, straightened and turned her head toward him, looking from his masked face, down his shirt and then she gazed into his erect member. Straining against the tight cleave of the gag, her lips reached out for what she now know was “his” erect dick and was rewarded when he reached forward and untied the gag.

She was a bundle of excitement, ecstasy and pleasure now, having fulfilled a fantasy and landing back into a reality that was safe, but also a bit dangerous. Part of her knew from the moment she had been hand-gagged that it had been “him” all along, but another part had wondered, worried, no… wished, that it had been a masked , strong and forceful stranger that had kidnapped her then forced her into such a pleasurable experience,

Extracting the soaked panties from her mouth and soflty grasping her behind her head, he guided her lips around his swollen member and she began to suck. Back and forth, using her tongue to swirl, lick and caress his penis. She grew in intensity as did he, now firmly grabbing her hair from behind and pulling her head back and forth in a motion matching his own

He too had become aroused to maximum levels for it only took a few minutes before he came in her mouth. Hot, strong and filling. MJ swallowed and licked, cleaning and enjoying his ejaculation. Then leaning back and closing her eyes in utter satisfaction.

She peered back out the windows and thought for a moment that one of the females from across the street was staring directly at her window. She swallowed the very last bit of him, the other female across the street seemed to have one hand making a circular motion on her own breast while the other seemed to have disappeared into the waistline of her pants.

MJ was about to ask if David was going to untie her when she realized he had pulled out another length of soft, white cloth, this one with a large knot in the middle. Stepping behind her once again he brought the cloth in front of her and pushed the knot in between her teeth, brushing her hair forward and tying the ends securely behind her neck. A second similar flattened cloth was then pulled over the first, this over her lips and pulled tight along with the first making a very secure detective gag, covering her lower face from just above the chin to just under her nose.

Now that MJ was once again made mute, her lover and captor moved toward the far end of the room where an exposed column that was part of the original building stood. She watched in curiosity as in the dim light he wrapped several loops of white cotton rope around the column while standing on a chair, making the loops almost 8 feet off the ground.

Mj looked back across the street and found that the other female was gone. “shoe couldn’t have seen us” she thought.

He stepped down from the chair and grinning, approached her bound body. She was silent and attentive as he knelt and freed her legs, then worked on her arms, but instead of allowing them to be completely free, he first pulled her torn shirt free and then he brought her wrists together in front of her and began to tie them together palm to palm.

MJ accepted all of this with our a struggle, looking as his hands deftly worked the ropes, making them both ecstatically pleasing, but tight and secure as one might imagine.

With a loose end of the rope her walked her across the room pulling her wrists out in front of her.

Having been bound to a chair for the last 30-40 minutes, MJ found her legs had fallen partially asleep and her movements seemed a little mechanical at first. He walked her up to and against the concrete post that took up this area of the loft. He then pulled the loose end through the loops on the exposed cement post and pulled her arms up above her head and forcing her to stand against the post. The concrete was cold against her skin and she tried to pull away from it, but as the rope was pulled through and back down, she was forced to her tip toes.

Arms secured overhead, She backed up to the post allowing her to lean against it despite her hands being securely bound,

Her torment with this new position was not over she found, for her fantasy kidnapper knelt down and tied a length of rope to one ankle then around the back of the post and the to the other ancle, securing them against its cold curve. This spread her exposed legs and crotch forward toward the window and pulled her feet along the sides of the column, This position made her unbalanced, with her weight forward of the center of gravity .

mmmmmMMMMPPPGGHTTT MJ managed

MJs eyes followed him , now re-masked, walked over to a bag lying on the kitchen counter and removed yet another length of rope and an object that she recognized as a battery operated vibrator shaped like a large bullet with a speed control on a line running from the bottom of the device.

There was a lint in his eyes as he walked back toward her. She tried to comically beg him “no” but the gag stifled this as he walked up to her and ran the still vibrator over her torso.

with the small section of rope he had brought over he made three loops around her waist and tied it centered under her belly button. He then pressed the power button on the vibrator then twiddles the speed control. He first brought it up to her tits and placed in inside the still cupped bra, first the right and then the left making each nipple over stimulated.

MJ pulled down against the ropes holding her against the column.

He ran the pulsating machine down he torso, then teased her lips that were awaiting new sensation, slowly caressing and then entering her from below.

She growled with pleasure from the rhythmic vibrations as the rope was run from the her waist between her legs and back around the back, pulled snug. This rope pressed against the vibrator and held it in her crotch securely. Two more times the rope ran from back to front and front to back until three sections of rope disappeared between her legs and was secured in place. MJ began to sway slowly back and forth as she began to feel the waves of pleasure build inside her.

He leaned next to her and in a raspy voice said, Ill be back shortly, I need to go get some more beer. MJ murmmered in pleasure almost ignoring this comment, loosing herself in the moment. That was until he first turned on a desk light on the far side of the room and then walked back over and turned up the vibrator before walking for the door.

MJ opened her eyes, she realized that this light cast a glow on her and that she would be at least partially visible to anyone looking across the way. Looking up at her bound wrists she was certain that at any moment one or more of the other occupants across the way would spot her, naked and splayed out for them to see and she tried to remain still, trying not to attract their attention. MJ orgasmed at least twice before the door opened and her hero returned.

To MJs relief, he first lowered the blinds and then walked over to her and removed the crotch rope and vibrator, which was covered in her juices. Next came the ropes around her legs and finally he started to lower her wrists from the loops around the post.

MJ fell to her knees and sat panting into her gag.

“Well,” he said in a low tone, leaning over her, “ I hope that was as good for you as it was for me because my friend gave us the condo for the entire weekend”

MJ heard that and smiled, but her thoughts drifted back to the female neighbor that had been touching herself while looking across at the darkened apartment.

“All weekend huh?” Mj thought.