Janet hugged him tightly. “Stop worrying. Just promise me that you’ll mesmerize me again soon.”
Brian smiled and nodded. He wrapped his arms around his wife and thought about all the things he would have her do the next time she was “under his power.”
Bondage. Bondage is a way to establish a different type of control. Obviously, someone who is tied up cannot have any say in what’s happening and the partner is completely free to do anything. It’s control, however, not force. Bondage is never meant to be a way to force someone to cooperate. All these games are for two partners who both enjoy the activity.
If you decide to try tying someone up, use whatever is handy. It’s not necessary to begin with “The Beginners Bondage Kit,” purchased from a catalog. Later on, however, reminding your partner that you own restraints and intend to use them may be enough to start your juices flowing.
Old neckties, stockings, soft ribbon, or rope make ideal restraints. Don’t use wire or thin twine that will cut into flesh, and take extreme care not to tie so tightly that you cause injury. In the heat of passion, you might not notice that bonds have become too tight. You or your partner could end up with marks that are difficult to explain or even painful. Be careful of burns as you slide rope around your partner’s body. Also, use bow- or slipknots that can be untied quickly in emergency situations, but don’t tie your partner in such a way that he can get free. Nothing ruins a bondage fantasy more quickly than being tied and knowing you can get out. It defeats the whole purpose. And definitely let your partner “suffer” by watching you tie him up. Tell him what you’re doing as you bind him very slowly and then list the things you’re going to do later. It’s incredibly arousing.
Also, don’t restrict yourself to tying your partner spread-eagled to the bed. Try facedown, or faceup, with wrists tied to ankles or knees. Try tying her hands behind her back, or tying her up on her hands and knees. Tie him bent over a table, with wrists and ankles tied to the legs, or over the back of a chair. The varieties are endless. Some are described in the sections that follow. Others, you’ll have the pleasure of discovering on your own.
Hollering Uncle. One of the enjoyable parts of role playing and bondage is being able to yell for help, scream, or beg for mercy. On the other hand, it is vital for the one in control to know when she has gone so far that the excitement level is being reduced, not heightened. These games are not supposed to be one-sided. They are supposed to provide pleasure to both parties. When this is no longer true, it’s time to stop.
Therefore, it is most important that you have a code word, agreed to in advance, that means, “I really want you to stop.” My partner and I use the term holler uncle. This allows us to get as deeply into acting out a fantasy as we wish without any misunderstandings.
These control games are not supposed to be endurance contests. Don’t wait so long to holler uncle that all the pleasure is gone. I have done that on occasion, afraid to spoil the enjoyment for my partner, and I have ended up spoiling an enjoyable experience for both of us.
Sometimes the opportunity for a new control game appears where you least expect it. If you have your mind open, you will realize what your partner is suggesting and you can seize the moment. As you will see in the story that follows, Susan and Frank explored their game of control after an evening of role playing and dressing up. Before we get to their story, however, let’s take a moment to talk about playing dress-up, an activity that can lead to many interesting new places.
Playing Dress-up. I have played dress-up many times, but I’ll never forget the first time. I felt so silly, I almost chickened out. For Valentine’s Day, my partner had given me a tiny red G-string with a zipper up the skimpy front and a bikini top with zippers up each bra cup, and I wanted to put it on that evening. While my partner was in the bathroom, I undressed and stared at the small bits of fabric. I swallowed hard and put the two pieces on. As I stood and looked at myself in the mirror over my bureau, I felt ridiculous. I was then in my mid-forties, with a decent, but not twenty-year-old figure. I had a few bulges in places that were no longer hidden. It also felt aggressive, as if I was inviting sex, which nice girls didn’t do.
I started to pull the top off when I heard the bathroom door open behind me. My eyes were drawn to my partner’s face as he looked at me. In that moment, all my embarrassment disappeared. The look on his face made it all worthwhile.
Needless to say, playing dress-up is very awkward the first time, particularly for a woman. Women, throughout their lives, have been brainwashed into believing that they are supposed to be passive and not the ones to initiate sexual activity. Dressing up in costume is unfamiliar and somehow sexually aggressive, at least for me.
It’s also exciting, however, especially if your partner is turned on by particular clothing. Remember that a few seductive clothes are more alluring than no clothes at all. Peruse some of those lingerie catalogs. Try a teddy, or a lacy slip or nightgown. Wear one of those bras with half cups or crotchless panties. Tell him what you’re wearing under your clothes before you go out for an evening and then let anticipation heighten the experience.
There is also something extraerotic about making love almost fully dressed. My partner loves to reach under my skirt, knowing that I am naked underneath. Try going without underpants or bra and then make love on the kitchen counter or in the yard while still mostly dressed.
Go through your wardrobe and find some items that you no longer want. Then consider them disposable clothing and let your partner know that you’d like to have your clothing ripped or slowly cut off of your body, maybe while you’re tied up.
If you aren’t in the mood for dressing up in unusual clothing, buy some different makeup or wild costume jewelry for you or your partner. If it’s for you, use it to change your looks for a particular game. A change in your looks can frequently bring about a change in your behavior and that of your partner. If the new article is for your partner, package it with a copy of an erotic story or wrap it in a relevant article from a magazine to suggest the roles you’d like to play. If you’ve gotten into dominant/submissive games, wear appropriate clothes—black pants and top, leather, or something lacy and feminine. Try dressing up as a student and teacher or sultan and slave or doctor and patient. The possibilities are endless. Dressing up can change your whole outlook.
SUSAN AND FRANK’S STORY
Susan decided later that the Halloween party changed her life. “Changed her life” sounded like an overstatement, but after that evening, her relationship with her husband, Frank, was not the same.
When they married seven years earlier, Frank was a construction worker. The Southern California sun bronzed his six-foot-two-inch, 180-pound body and lightened his sandy blond hair. The hard physical labor toughened his body so not a bit of fat remained. His blue eyes sparkled and he had an infectious smile. Now he was a foreman, but he still worked outdoors most of the time.
Susan worked as a secretary for four lawyers and frequently lamented her work load and late nights. She hated the fact that she had to wear conservative business suits that effectively concealed the soft curves of her five-foot-three-inch body. She kept her brown eyes hidden beneath large tortoiseshell glasses and she wore little makeup.
The change in their lives began when their friends Tom and Jennifer invited them to a Halloween masquerade party. Frank and Susan discussed their costumes at length and quickly discarded the standard period outfits. They both wanted something much more creative, something that would allow each of them to be a bit exhibitionistic. Their costumes would be a complete change from their five-day-a-week nine-to-five existence. It was the day before the party when they hit upon the idea. Susan would play a girl pirate and Frank would be her slave and bodyguard. They rushed around to a number of costume shops and rummaged deep into their closets until they finally put together the exact outfits they wanted.
The evening of the party, to heighten their grand entrance, they arrived late, both wearing trench coats.
First, Susan dramatically removed her coat. Conversation stopped as her costume was revealed. She wore black short shorts, which barely covered her behind, and a bright red shirt, which she had unbuttoned to reveal a good amount of cleavage. Over the shirt, she wore a black bolero jacket, and the lower half of her long legs was encased in tall black boots polished to a high shine. She had covered her eyes with a small black domino mask.
After Susan removed her coat, she put on a large black pirate hat and buckled a sword around her hips. Then, with great ceremony, she snapped her fingers.
“Yes, ma’am,” Frank said. Then he removed his coat. He was wearing tight black pants with a pair of black boots. The only other thing he wore was a black leather slave collar.
The women at the party stared at his heavily muscled chest, which he had lightly oiled. He looked as if he could crush someone with his huge fists and heavily knotted forearms. The guests couldn’t quite see his face because, although he towered over Susan, he kept his head lowered submissively. Slowly, Susan opened the paper bag she was carrying and removed the last part of her costume, a heavy black whip with a wicked-looking black leather handle.
Susan used the handle of the whip to raise Frank’s unmasked face. “He’s not masked,” Susan explained to their hostess. “Slaves may not cover their faces.”
Jennifer giggled and stared at Frank’s body.
“Hang these coats, slave,” Susan said, trailing the whip along the floor as she walked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Frank responded.
When Frank returned, Susan spoke to him loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Get me a drink. And make sure it has enough ice.”
When Frank returned, there was no ice in Susan’s drink. “I told you to put enough ice in this, slave,” she snapped.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get you another one. Just please, don’t whip me later,” he begged, much to the amusement of the crowd that had gathered around Susan.
“As long as you behave and don’t give me any more trouble,” Susan said.
Frank spent the evening serving Susan and enjoying it. And Susan loved the control she had over him.
At midnight, Susan unmasked and their host announced the prizewinners. To no one’s surprise, Frank and Susan won first prize, but the best prize for both of them came a little later.
On the trip home, Frank was strangely silent. He was absorbed in thoughts of the evening. He had had a wonderful time. He had served Susan, fetching and carrying. A few times, she had ordered him to dance with the women at the party. He had obeyed without question and had regretted the time he had to spend with the weak, ineffectual women. When he was not actually serving her, Frank stood and waited for Susan to give him something to do to make her happy. He didn’t have to think.
All day I give orders, he thought now. I have to be tough and never relax for a moment. It’s so good to be able to just follow orders, not to have to worry about what decision to make and about the thousand ramifications.
He also found himself sexually aroused all evening. He had had to rearrange his clothing several times to make room for his large erection. He wasn’t sure why he was so excited, and he didn’t care. He just wanted it to continue.
They arrived home and Frank hung up Susan’s coat. Then he stood in front of her with his head down and handed her the whip. Please let her understand, he prayed.
Very softly, he said, “Don’t whip me, ma’am. I’ll serve you in any way you want.”
Susan looked at her husband. She also had enjoyed the roles they had played that evening. No longer did she have to take orders and be the dutiful servant. She had been the master and Frank had done anything she wanted. She had even ordered him to dance with a woman whom she knew he detested and he had followed her instructions without a question.
She looked at his subservient posture and tried to read his body language. Could he really mean what she thought he did? She glanced at the front of his trousers, saw the obvious bulge, and smiled. She had had a few drinks and she was willing to take a little risk. She would see what happened.
She used the whip handle to raise his face. “Look at me,” she said. It was all there in his eyes. “You’re still my slave, aren’t you?” she asked sternly.
Frank nodded.
“When I ask you a question, I want to hear your answer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“Get me a drink. Lots of ice.”
While Frank was in the kitchen, Susan walked over to the sofa and sat down. She crossed her long legs and waited.
Frank returned with Susan’s drink, this time with plenty of ice. He leaned down and handed it to her.
“Kneel down,” she said.
Frank got down on his knees. “Remove my boots,” Susan said.
As he pulled off her boots, he ran his hand down the inside of her thighs.
“Do you want a whipping?” Susan snapped. “You are not to touch me unless I tell you to.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I won’t let it happen again.”
“And by the way,” Susan said, “I see that bulge in your pants. It is mine. You may not touch it and you better not climax unless I allow it. Is that understood?”
Frank lowered his head to hide his smile. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured.
Susan thought for a moment. “I think I’d like a bath.” It was past 1:00 A.M., but she wasn’t at all tired.
“I’ll run it for you.”
Frank called Susan fifteen minutes later. He had filled the tub and added some of Susan’s favorite bath salts.
“It’s just the right temperature,” he said.
Susan stood in the middle of the bathroom.
“Undress me,” she ordered. “But don’t touch. If I want to be touched, I’ll tell you where.”
Frank gently removed Susan’s jacket and unbuttoned her blouse. Twice his fingers grazed her skin and she glared at him.
“You touched me,” she said. “If that happens again, I will use my whip. You have to learn discipline.”
Frank kept his head lowered and said nothing.
Susan ran her hands under her large breasts, raising them for Frank to see. “Would you like to touch these?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, ma’am.”
“Then touch. Gently!”
His hands brushed over the tips of Susan’s erect nipples. Then he softly kneaded her flesh and swirled his fingertips toward the center.
“Suck my tits, slave,” Susan said.
Frank bent down until his mouth was level with her breasts. He took one nipple in his mouth and sucked it. When he felt that it was as hard as it could get, he switched his mouth to the other one and sucked it reverently.
“That’s enough,” Susan said as she pressed Frank down onto his haunches. “I want my bath now.”
Frank pulled her shorts and underpants down. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to throw her down on the floor and fuck her senseless, but he couldn’t. She wouldn’t like it and she might punish him.
Susan stepped into the tub and sank down into the warm water. She was glad that she had stopped him. She might have climaxed right there, just from the feeling of his mouth.
“Wash me,” she said.
Frank took a facecloth and rubbed the bar of soap across it. Then he slowly rubbed the cloth all over Susan’s body. As he washed the insides of her thighs, he waited for her to stop him, but she didn’t, so he began to stroke her between her legs. Slowly, he rubbed the cloth through the water, back and forth over her sweet cunt.
“Enough,” she said as she grabbed his wrist. “I’m ready to get out.”
While she rinsed off the soap, Frank got a big bath towel. Susan stepped out and Frank rubbed her all over with the towel. When she was dry, they walked into the bedroom.
“Take off your pants. I want to see exactly what my slave has underneath.”
Frank pulled his pants down as Susan stretched out on the bed.
He was enormous, larger than s
he had ever seen him. “Now touch yourself,” she said, “but don’t come.”
Frank looked at Susan. Her eyes were bright with passion and her mouth was slightly open. He had never touched his penis with anyone watching, but he had no choice. She had ordered him to.
He wrapped his hand around his erection and ran it over the length of his cock. “I’m afraid I’ll displease you, ma’am. If I do this any longer, I’ll climax.”
“Do as you’re told. And don’t you dare come. There will be serious consequences if you climax without permission.” She left him no choice. He had to do as she commanded. As he stroked his cock, he let his head fall back and closed his eyes. Sweat started to bead on his forehead.
It took all his concentration to keep from climaxing, but he continued to stroke himself slowly while Susan watched. He dug his fingernails into his palm to keep from coming.
Just as he was about to lose control, she stopped him with a loud slap across his ass. “I want your mouth between my legs.”
Frank obeyed quickly. He crawled to the foot of the bed and then up between Susan’s legs.
His tongue was for her pleasure only. He used it like an instrument to stroke her cunt, first slowly, then with short, quick strokes. Her juices were flowing freely and, as he varied his licks, he felt her body respond. He was unreasonably glad that he was able to give his mistress pleasure.
His mistress. Yes, he thought, it felt right. He was made to serve her.
“You may fuck me now, if you like,” she said.
“What I want is unimportant. I would love to fuck you, but only if it’s what you want. I want only to please you.”
He looked up at her face. She was smiling. “That’s the right answer. And I want you right now,” she said.
Quickly, he crawled up and slid his cock into her. He watched her and adjusted his movements as he gauged her level of arousal. Yes, he said to himself, she’s ready.
As he thrust into her as hard as he could, he reached down and rubbed her clit. He was rewarded by the feel of her climax.
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