by J G Jerome
I murmur into her ear, “Straighten your arms.” I lift her bound wrists, and her shoulders still move easily.
I start wrapping her forearms in a series of knots that results in something that resembles a macrame gauntlet encasing both forearms. Her sleeves are open and gathered at the top of the gauntlet.
I ask her, “How does that feel?”
Susan shimmies from side-to-side. “Uh...it’s okay. She finds this a turn-on?”
I slide her phone out of her purse and unlock it using the gesture she’s been using for the last two days in the workshops. I take a picture and show it to her.
I tell her, “It’s a part of the play. There’s a sensuality to the ropes and the flesh. Usually, there’s a lot more to it. For instance, this particular set of knot work is usually done with a ‘shrimp’ or ‘ball’ tie on a nude subject. I have been perfecting some new postures that use a ‘shrimp’ variant with this arm tie. Usually it’s a tableau that leads to sex. I’ve even used it on a suspension where she hangs in the air with her legs splayed open. That’s nice because I can walk by and enjoy a treat.”
Susan purrs, “Sex sounds like a good idea.”
I think to myself, ‘Danger, Will James!’ I look at her bound wrists and give a mental shrug. ‘Oh, I am soooo baaaaad!’
I tell her, “How does three orgasms in ten minutes sound?”
Susan looks over her shoulder at me. “Like a good start.”
I grab my phone and kick on the voice memo app.
“O-o-kay,” I drawl. “You’re giving your consent for me to continue past tying your hands.”
Susan hisses, “Yesssss. Pleeeezze.”
I leave the voice memo running on the credenza while I set my iPad on the side table to record video. I retrieve a silk tie from my suitcase. I step behind Susan and lay the silk against her neck on the right side and glide it around the front of her neck and up the left side. As the silk glides, Susan leans her head back and moans.
I murmur in her ear. “Bondage arts are as much about sensuality and mental stimulation as sexual stimulation. The glide of ropes on flesh, the bite of them, the excitement of being bound, the thrill of giving up control, and learning to trust. Being bound by someone you trust is seriously arousing.”
I kiss her shoulder through her blouse. “Do you trust me, Susan?”
“Ye-esssss,” she breathes.
I lift the tie over her eyes and tie it in place. I place a slow gentle kiss on the corner of her jaw. “Time to play, Susan.”
I step back and unzip her skirt and slide my hands inside the waistline of the skirt. Leaving her panties in place and sliding my hands down her thighs to remove the skirt. I allow myself the pleasure of gliding my cheek along her silken-clad butt cheek and her smooth thigh. She sighs as she reaches her bound hands to run through my hair.
I glide my fingers up her legs gently as I stand behind her. She reaches back for my package, so I spank her ass - she gasps. For a thirty-nine year old office worker, her ass is in great shape.
I warn her, “You’re topping from the bottom, Susan. We are partners in this, but we each have a role. For both of us to get the maximum pleasure, we have to play our roles. I am the dominant, or ‘Dom.’ You are the submissive, or for knot arts the subject - in either case, the ‘Sub.’ My job is to guide. Your job is to submit. If you try to drive again, I’m going to spank that pretty little ass of yours.”
“You think my ass is pretty?” She fishes for more compliments.
I give her a gentle spank on the other cheek. “Yes. I think you are very pretty all over.” I press my body against her back, her hands hang just below my crotch. I unbutton her blouse slowly with my mouth against her ear. Her top two buttons were already open, so I pop the third open. I murmur, “Under different circumstances I would be pursuing you. Given our work relationship, your marital status, and my relationships - I don’t feel that I can. But, I am going to give you this experience, and I will treasure giving it to you.” At that point I’m opening the last button.
I glide my hands up the open fabric of her blouse and lift it back off her shoulders to drape off the gauntlet on her forearms. While I work, she says, “Relationship? But Audrey just broke up with you.”
I answer, “I have three other ladies in a committed relationship back home in Prescott.” Her bra is unfortunately a rear-close model. I look around the front and see it’s an underwire, pushup model, too. Having bought lingerie for Audrey, I know it’s not cheap.
“You’ve never mentioned them,” she murmurs with disappointment.
I kiss her shoulder. “I never mentioned Audrey before, either. I wouldn’t have now except I thought the breakup would affect my performance. I’m going to bare your goodies now, Susan.”
She takes in a gasp of air and releases it with a nod. I unhook her bra and frown. “How attached are you to this bra?”
She bites her lip. “I bought it for this trip.”
I grab a handful of her dark, curly, locks and slowly pull her head back. “Were you contemplating adultery, Susan?”
She gasps, “Yes! It’s been so long, and you are always so nice. He doesn’t even look at me anymore, let alone touch me. I run. I work out. Nothing makes a difference. I turn forty next year, and everything is starting to sag. Now he’s fucking a twenty-two year old intern named Buffy - in our bed!” she wails. “I just want to feel beautiful again,” she adds with a whimper.
I wrap my arms around her waist and tuck my face against hers. “You are very beautiful despite your imagined faults. If we were both in a different relationship status, we would be lovers. Period. Now this pretty garment is hanging in the way of what I plan to do to your pretty breasts, so I’m going to cut it off of you. I pull my knife and cut both straps. The offending obstacle drops to the floor.
I grasp her elbow. “I want you to kneel on the bed, Susan. Let me help you.” I guide her to the edge of the bed and she displays uncanny balance and agility as she gets situated facing to my right, kneeling in the middle standing on her knees.
I pick up both phones, and pull up the camera apps. I hold hers up, “This is your camera, Susan. I am going to take a couple of pictures so you can see how beautiful you look. Sit back on your feet. Good. Spread your knees wide. Excellent. Point your chin to the sky.” Her torso straightens and her pert, full breasts stand proud. I take a picture with each camera from the side.
“Now sag forward. Let your shoulders and head hang, but don’t lay down.” She is starting to get into it. I take a side view and rear view. I just drink in the line of her arms and the curve of her spine and buttocks. I like that her panty is sized correctly - it drapes rather than digs in. I also notice a slight discoloration in the crotch. Somebody is getting excited.
“Susan, you look so beautiful like that. It is taking all my willpower to not crawl up behind you, pull that pretty panty aside, and shove my fat cock in your pussy.” I’m only exaggerating a little bit.
I direct, “Sit up and stand on your knees, Susan.” I coil the loose ends of the rope that are dangling from the top of the gauntlet so they are in two balls. I crawl on the bed and thread both balls over her gathered blouse, cross the strands across her back before I thread them around the front - one below her breasts pushing them up, and one on top squeezing them into the bottom rope.
Susan gasps at the pressure on her tender flesh. I keep a little patter going to keep her relaxed. “The trick is to make the bindings firm enough to hold without digging in.” I wrap the ropes around her back again and cross them. “One art, Kinbaku, or ‘tight binding,’ allows more digging in because restraining the subject is key.” I run the cords down her gently curved abdomen and around to the crack of her buttock. I tie both strands into a single square knot as I add, “I think of Shibaru as a little less focused on restraint and a little more focused on stimulation and aesthetics. Open just a bit, sweetie.”
I run the cords between her legs and measure them off based on the circle of h
er crotch. “The type of materials of the cord makes a difference.” I make a tight round overhand knot with both cords together about two inches below the square knot. “The types of knots and their placement also have different purposes.” I quickly tie a series of two smaller overhand knots in each cord followed immediately by two flat square knots. “I’m experimenting here a bit to give you as much pleasure from the experience as possible. Susan, sit back like before and open your legs wide.”
She follows my instructions, and I run the ropes under her and up the center of her torso. “Good job, sweetie.” I intuit ‘good girl’ might be a bridge too far for Susan. I use it with my ladies, but they all know me well despite varying degrees of submissiveness. One of the square knots is at the top of the dark spot, the other is slightly above. I think ‘That should work perfectly. We’ll see.’ I thread the strands up her décolletage through the ropes already on her chest and then cast them over her shoulders. It looks like I have about eight feet left - good.
“Sit back straight and proud, Susan.”
She murmurs, “Yes, sir” as she follows orders. I string the cords under the existing strands and cross them again. “Resistance, pressure, and friction are the tools of the art that bring the subject pleasure.” I run the cords along the sides of her now swollen breasts, around the front, and around the back again. As I tighten the cords, they clamp her swollen nipples between them. I cross the cords in back again before I follow the reverse of the abdomen wrap from before. “Almost done, dear Susan.”
I run the cords between her legs, and then I trace the cords once more with my hands from the gauntlet to the end to - removing excess slack. Then I wrap each ankle twice, loop twice around the instep of each foot, and then twice more around the ankle before tying each tail off with a quick release.
I caress Susan’s shoulder and then step off the bed. I adjust my hard cock to take some of the pressure off of it. I take some photos with her phone, and I look at the clock on my phone as the voice recorder runs. After noting the time, I give the square knot over Susan’s sacrum a gentle tug. She gasps as I murmur, “Move, Susan. Ten minutes starting now.”
I adjust the easy chair and face her as I pull the guitar in my lap. I check the tuning and start playing Water Song to warm up, humming along. I usually play the short melody three times. Before I finish the first time, Susan is whimpering. Just as I hit the ringing note at the end of the second, she gasps and a flood of fluid soaks her panty. As the final note rings, she is alternating between sitting up straight to ease the pressure on her breasts and scrunching forward to ease the pressure on her clit from the top square knot and her labia and asshole from the other knots between it and her sacrum. Every time she moves she is taken by a different tremor.
I play the intro to Dust in the Wind, as she gets to the point where the tremors don’t stop. Rather than fighting the ropes she appears to be arching her back, which increases the pressure in all her contact points. As I finish that song, I see her thighs flexing to dig the ropes in for more pressure. She looks like she’s about to scream. I grab a clean pair of knit boxers and stuff them into her gaping mouth just in time.
Susan bites down hard and screams. A torrent of fluid rains out of her panty. I cock an eyebrow as I sit back down. My cock is getting painful watching the show.
I pick up the guitar and play South City Midnight Lady. I sing along and solo a bit. I’m about half-way through when Susan spasms again and sags. After I enter the outtro solo section she spits out the gag and gasps. “Enough! No more. Please, Will.”
I turn off the iPad, check the clock, and pull the quick releases. Then I start cutting ropes until she only has the gauntlet on. I carefully cut it to allow it to lay open but still keep its integrity. I set it on the credenza, close my knife and remove the blindfold. She collapses onto her side.
I slide her sodden panty off and then I pick her up and place her on a dry corner of the bed to rest. I moisten a wash rag in warm water in the bathroom and bring a towel. I clean her sodden legs, avoiding her still glistening pussy. Then I dry them. I roll her over face down and run back to the bathroom to rinse and warm the washcloth. Then I wipe down her neck, back, shoulders, butt, and legs.
I peruse her beautiful body. I don’t see anything wrong with her. I look at her with my second sight. Her aura is now bright white - not big like a crafter, but clean and bright regardless - healthy. I see there are swirls of entropic energy throughout her, but nothing that looks like a problem. Just the effects of age. I probably look very similar.
Okay, she mentioned butt and boobs sagging plus saddle bags. I tap my lips and think about what I could do with my abilities. I reach down and draw a star on each saddlebag with entropic energy with the intent of making the fat there dissolve. Hopefully that will fuel her exercise from there first. Then I draw a rather large star on the top of each buttock with life energy - maybe I should call it growth energy instead?
I slide her blouse up her arms and roll her back over. I wipe down her neck and upper chest before moving to the torso below her breasts to her hips. Then I dry her with a towel. I’m drawing stars at the tops of her breasts when she mutters, “Pussy still wet. Should clean that.”
“Not happening, Susan.”
“You said ten minutes. That was hours. Need to get ready for work.”
I chuckle, “You only lasted eight minutes, sweetie.”
She gives me ‘stink eye.’ “No way!”
I nod emphatically. “It’s not quite eight o’clock yet.” I thread her feet into her skirt before I pull her forward until her feet are on the ground. I look at her sitting there propped on her arms. “Can you stand?”
She nods and slowly stands, steadying herself on my shoulders as I slide the skirt up her long legs.
She looks at me strangely. “I didn’t like that, Will.”
I cock an eyebrow at her again as I button her blouse. “Really. Eight minutes. I counted four visible orgasms. How many did you really have?”
She walks toward the chair as she tucks her blouse into her skirt. I hear her murmur toward the drapes. “I lost count after eight.” She corkscrews herself down into the chair and catches her face in her hands. “Why am I such a tramp?” She is seriously embarrassed.
I kneel at her feet. “You have no reason to be ashamed, Susan. It is just a sensual pleasure. People around the world enjoy giving it and receiving it. I wanted to give it to you as a gift of pleasure. I know it’s not what you were hoping for, but it’s what I could give you.”
“Why?”
“Because I could give you a novel, pleasurable experience without personally touching you intimately.”
“That felt intimate.”
“Emotionally, yes. Very much so.” I get up off the floor and sit on the corner of the bed. “Susan, you have been an important person in my life for over three years. You hired me when I was going through my divorce. You’ve been understanding and supportive. I wanted to give you this to help you through your hard time.”
She stands up, and I join her. She steps in and wraps her arms around me and buries her face in my chest. I wrap her in a warm hug. Susan murmurs, “This isn’t what I wanted, Will. But, I have to admit it was cathartic. You did make me feel desired.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I do desire you, Susan. I would welcome you into my family and gladly bed you - if you were not already married. You need to figure out how you and your husband are going to resolve your relationship. After that, come see me if that is what you still want. If you ever need a pick-me-up, look at the pictures on your phone.”
She gives me a puzzled look. I exclaim, “Oh!” I release her and pick up the dismembered gauntlet. “This kind of looks like a piece of artwork now. You can keep it in a shadow box and claim it’s just that. Hopefully it will bring a smile to your face when you need it.”
Susan grins at me. Then she grows serious. “If I come back to you, I will want you to myself, Will.”
I shake my
head. “You deserve that, Susan. I’m just not going to be able to give it to you. If you want in my family, show up with your divorce decree and talk to Marissa.”
I tamp her panty dry and fold it. She stuffs it into her clutch, and I walk her to the door. She turns to kiss my lips softly, then looks up into my eyes. “Until tomorrow, Will.” I let her out, and secure the door.
24 - Checking out
I lean against the door and try to catch my breath and try to get the smell of Susan’s arousal out of my mind. I don’t care how much she complains about her failing charms, she is a very sexy woman. I went farther with her than I should have. I would like to believe that I wouldn’t cross the line, especially given her ‘not yet divorced’ status and my relationship with my three remaining ladies. I’m thankful Susan didn’t push harder than she did. What we did may strain our relationship already. Breaking my personal code to fuck my still married boss would have been a devasting hit to my self-esteem, too. Given Audrey’s departure, the funk would have been deadly.
Okay, I’m getting overly-dramatic. I go pick up the guitar and sit playing in the easy chair. I am at it for a full forty-five minutes before the wood in my pants goes down. I probably should have just wanked it out and been done, but I really want to separate my sex life from Susan. I know I’m an emotional mess. This is probably the most vulnerable time she could have picked to make a play. I need the distance to ensure I don’t hurt Susan or myself until I get my head screwed on straight. Thankfully, I realize I’m out of balance. Ironically, that self-awareness is mostly due to my friendship with a madame and my kinky love affair with Audrey.
I put the guitar down, take a leak, crack open another bottle of water, and call my ladies on my iPad’s Facetime app. It feels so good to hear their voices and see their faces. Suddenly, resisting Susan doesn’t seem to be such a trial. They tell me about their days. I tell them about the class, dinner, and Susan’s introduction to sensual bondage. All three ladies alternate between gasping, crying, and laughing as I relate how Susan put the moves on me, her heartbreak at her husband’s treatment, and how my solution made her feel beautiful. Josie is wide-eyed as she asks questions about how I tied the knots and the effects on Susan’s body. When I finish my story, they all look at each other for a moment. Eventually Marissa starts cackling. Then Josie and Rebecca join in her laughter. They laugh raucously as I sit there with a confused smile on my face.
