by Bridy McAvoy
She started to tense both legs, but he grabbed her left ankle and, stretching it out straight along the bed, used another silk scarf to attach her foot firmly to the corner, rather than the middle. Thirty seconds later, and two kicks, the other leg was equally attached, spread about three feet apart. Not uncomfortably so, but she knew if she’d been as naked as she had been earlier, the distance between her thighs would be spreading her outer labia apart too. At least she was dressed—however unsexy she thought the outfit looked.
“Okay, you comfortable?”
“No!”
“It was a serious question, so, please, no flippant answers. If something is uncomfortable for you, I want to know what.”
“It wasn’t flippant. I am very uncomfortable!”
Kayla felt the bed give a little as Chris sat next to her and then she felt his hand brush once more on her cheek.
“What’s uncomfortable, sweetie?”
“The whole bloody situation is freaking me out!”
He kept stroking her cheek.
“Honey, relax. You’re among friends—nothing bad is going to happen, but think how much worse this would feel with the five students standing there looking at you tied up and vulnerable if this was the first time you’d done it. Teri was right—you and Ben have never played bondage games before, have you?”
Kayla shook her head from side to side.
“Well, there’s nothing like a little bondage play to get the juices flowing. You two should try it sometime.”
She felt him move, then he was breathing in her ear as he whispered.
“When we counted back, Teri is pretty sure she caught the frog the last time I tied her to the bed.”
Kayla felt the heat flood her face at the thought of her now absent friend tied as she was and being used by her husband. She closed her eyes then realised the futility of doing so behind the blindfold—she could play the requisite visions across the blackness either way. She thought of Ben tying her to their marital bed, slowly stripping her before blindfolding her and joining her on the bed, playing with her naked and helpless body before rolling on top of her and entering her. Her breathing quickened and the flush of embarrassment gave way to one of excitement as she played the scenario in her mind—one she’d never given any credence to before.
“I thought you might react like that. See…you’re not so uncomfortable now, are you? And don’t lie to me, sweetie, I can tell.”
Kayla licked her lips and nodded, knowing he could read the signs of arousal on her face and that portion of her neck visible above the blouse.
“Right, I’m going to take a few shots before we move on to the next stage.”
“The next stage?”
Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears, and she struggled to work out the reason—a dry throat or her own arousal thickening her tongue.
“Kayla, remember—this is a glamour shoot, and I know you don’t think you’re looking particularly glamorous at the moment.”
“Oh, my God!”
She felt his weight shift and the bed moved under her as he stood up. He didn’t say anything—just chuckled as he walked away. She heard the clatter as he picked up what she guessed was his camera, and then started clicking away. The camera clicked a dozen times, then she felt him move next to the bed and the shutter fired another seven or eight times. She wasn’t counting—she just needed to focus on something other than his words about it being a glamour shoot, and how she wasn’t going to unfasten, let alone remove anything, given she was tied to the bed!
“So tell me, Kayla, what are you thinking about at this minute?”
“You mean apart from the satisfying crunch as I kick you in the nuts once I’m free?”
He chuckled.
“Yes, apart from that. Remember this is for the effect—it’s a shoot, and it’s not real.”
“Hmm… I suspect you might well be wishing it was.”
“Don’t go there, Kayla.”
His voice didn’t have a hard edge, his tone was still light and bantering but something was telling Kayla not to push any further, so she decided to answer his original question.
“Well, I was wondering…”
“Wondering what?”
“How I was supposed to look sexy like this?”
“You mean how you were going to manage to loosen and then remove your clothing?”
“Kind of.”
“That’s easy, you’re not.”
He had moved closer, the words seemed to come from somewhere very close to her head. He chuckled and then she heard the unmistakable sound of a pair of scissors snapping shut.
“Let me tell you a story. I needed some clothing for a bondage set up, and Teri happened upon this charity shop. They had the outfit you were wearing—five dollars for the skirt and five dollars for the blouse. Teri asked if they had anymore and the assistant told her they actually were part of a job lot—it was a company uniform deal that was overmakes. You know, the manufacturer made too many and they were so frumpy they couldn’t sell them, so gave them away. Teri asked how many they had, and in what sizes.
“While the assistant went to check, Teri rang me and asked how many sets we wanted and sent me a camera phone shot. They were perfect for that shoot, and I knew I had this course and another one coming up, so I said bring me twenty sets. Turns out the shop had so many, they did a bulk deal for Teri and we came away with thirty sets for two hundred dollars. Sweet deal, heh?”
Kayla nodded, her attention still focused on the sound she’d heard.
“Yep, we’ve got six sets that fit you, so losing this one isn’t going to matter, is it?”
Chris punctuated his comments with the sound of the scissors snapping closed again. Kayla couldn’t suppress the shudder—the thought of having her clothes cut off her was too horrifying to comprehend.
“What… What about the underwear?”
“Similar shop, different day. Overmakes and overruns on production are a fact of life in the garment trade. Always able to pick up a bargain if it’s not too fashionable or too sexy. You see?”
“I guess.”
“Shall I get started? Don’t worry, I’m not going to cut you. I’m not interested in blood—this quilt was expensive!”
He chuckled once more and she failed to suppress another shudder.
“Keep still.”
“Like that’s possible!”
“I mean it, Kayla, you do need to keep still. These scissors are sharp and I have no intention of cutting you, but if you start jerking and moving around there’s the potential for accidents.”
Kayla tried to calm her breathing but couldn’t prevent the flinch when he touched her wrist with the cold steel of the scissors.
“Shhh…”
“Easy for you to say.”
She felt him move lower down the bed and then she felt a slight tug on the skirt followed by a ripping sound as he snipped the hem. He repeated the movement several times and she guessed he’d slit the garment many times but, without being able to see what he was doing, it was difficult to work out how much damage he’d done to the garment. She concentrated on staying as still as possible as he continued to work away around her legs. He’d started near her knees, which made sense given the length of the skirt, but he was above them now, so she guessed more and more of her legs were being displayed.
He stepped away and the camera started clicking again. She still couldn’t tell how much of her was exposed—she guessed at this stage not very much—but it was still unnerving. The situation was very new to her and she felt grateful to Chris for insisting on a rehearsal. He’d been right—she’d have been panicked confronted with this in front of the whole group.
Visions of her men all attacking her with scissors, ripping her clothes, not bothering to take pictures, simply stripping her bound helpless from naked then mauling her before, one at a time, mounting and fucking her, dominated her mind. She heard herself gasp out loud at the salacious thoughts, and tried to stop h
erself responding to unwanted fantasies.
She noticed the clicking of the camera shutter had stopped and sensed Chris was standing at the head of the bed. She craned her neck to try and see him, before realising how stupid that was, given she was blindfolded.
The cold steel touched her wrist and she kept still as he snipped the cuff on the blouse several times before repeating the process on her other wrist. He must have put the scissors down because she felt both of his hands clasp her wrist.
“Going to rip it now, sweetie, rather than cut, so be ready.”
He pulled hard, and her arm jerked as she both heard and felt the fabric of the sleeve on her left arm rip in several places. Cool air washed across her elbow so she knew the tear, or tears, reached past that point. Chris repeated the process on her other arm and moved away. A few seconds later she heard the camera begin to click once more.
Chapter 11
Kayla tried hard to blot out the obscene fantasy about the group—tried to concentrate on remaining still for Chris, hoping the ordeal would be over soon, but knowing she was still far too modestly covered for that to be the case.
He didn’t spend long taking pictures this time, but moved to her waist and roughly pulled the blouse from the waist band of her skirt. She felt the cold blades of the scissors touch her stomach and sucked it in with a gasp then heard the steady snip, snip as he cut the fabric, again in several places. She tried hard not to think about what she looked like but it was difficult. Without the blindfold she’d have been able to focus on anything in the room to take her mind off what was happening as Chris tipped the blouse in two places. Instead, all she could see were the images her imagination painted on the inside of the blindfold, and they were bad enough.
She allowed her mouth to open so she could lick her suddenly dry lips and left them there, gasping for air as Chris suddenly ripped the skirt in two. She knew her stocking-tops, bare thighs above the stockings and her panties were now in view. He clicked shot after shot as she lay there, wallowing in her own fervid imagination, visions of her helpless body being ravaged by faceless men. Sometimes it was Chris…sometimes it was one, or all, of the group…sometimes it was her own husband…other times it was nobody she knew. She could feel the bed moving under her and realised, despite Chris’s admonition to stay still, her backside was starting to move as her arousal built, in a parody of an attempt to seduce the men watching her defilement, although there was no one there other than Chris.
“You’re getting into this, aren’t you, sweetie?”
His voice was close to her ear.
“No…”
Her voice lacked conviction in her own ears and she grunted as he got hold of the blouse and shredded it further. By now her outer clothing had to be in tatters, framing her body clad only in underwear. She tried hard to resist the feelings flooding through her but knew that was only fuelling them.
“Time for the bra to go, I think.”
She felt the scissors touch the sensitive flesh of her cleavage and then…snip, and the elastic tension of the cups ensuing her breasts was gone, the lace lying loosely on top of her. Another couple of snips and he’d cut the shoulder straps, too, then retreated to take more shots of her. It felt like seconds later he was back. He touched her skin above her right breast with the pointed end of the scissors and drew them downward, dragging the useless bar cup with them. It seemed like a line of fire was being painted across her breast and she moaned as the passion built inside her. The scissors hesitated for a moment just above her nipple then he continued, tracing a line with the sharp metal point straight across the top of the hardened point.
Kayla screamed as the combination of pain and stimulation roared through her, and was grateful Chris had quickly removed the scissors from her skin as she thrashed in her bonds.
“Oo… You liked that, didn’t you?”
“No…”
She tried to gasp out a reply but it came out as more of a croak and she tried to will herself to lie still as he repeated the process with her left breast. This time he didn’t pause, and kept the scissors in contact with her as he moved it over her nipple and beyond. She was starting to moan continuously now, her hips moving in a slow seductive bump and grind motion on the bed as her body’s responses took control of her movements.
She heard the clicking start again as Chris took more pictures. She could guess the scissors had left red marks down her skin, obscenely connecting her breasts to her shoulders and belly with straight red lines. She couldn’t help the question popping out.
“Have you marked me? Ben will go nuts.”
“Sshhh… There’s a faint line showing, but it’ll fade in a few minutes—your secret is safe with me?”
“Secret?”
Chris chuckled and she felt him sit on the bed next to her. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh above her stocking-top, just below her panties. His skin felt warm to the touch and she flinched, but couldn’t pull away as he started to rub gently at her tender flesh.
“You love being tied up and helpless, able to be ravished, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. The idea of being like this in front of all the guys next week is driving you nuts, isn’t it?”
“Noo…!”
She tried hard to tune out his words, tune out the feeling his knowing fingers were inducing in her body but her own imagination had betrayed her. Once more, the vision of the entire group attacking her without compunction, without mercy, passed through her mind and, as Chris’s hand moved even closer to her pussy, she exploded into another orgasm. She screamed and writhed and wallowed in the feelings as the waves of pleasure swept through her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk—just thrashed in her bindings as the powerful force swept through and then out of her. When her senses fully returned, Chris was no longer touching her, and she felt thankful. She didn’t want to think about where this might lead given they were alone and she was helpless, but also providing evidence she was enjoying it!
“I’m glad you got that out of the way, sweetie. This is going to be the delicate bit. I’m going to shred your panties now, and I really, really don’t want to slip down there. You must hold still.”
She nodded, knowing he was trying to be nice, then giggled at the thought of calling someone who was going to attack her underwear, while she was wearing them, no less, with a pair of scissors, nice. The situation was bizarre. Chris waited for her to calm down then felt his fingers touch the front of her panties. He pinched a little fabric and pulled it upward. She gasped.
“Sorry, did I get a hair?”
“Yes!”
“Sorry, not intended. Wouldn’t want to disturb the neatness of your lady garden.”
The strange expression made her giggle again and she didn’t get a chance to react as he pushed his fingers inside her panties to lift the fabric away from her landing strip. The touch of his fingers, even if it was only the backs of his fingers, was so much more intimate than before and she couldn’t stop herself trembling. Chris took his time—he didn’t rush, moving slowly and ensuring he didn’t catch her with the scissors as he snipped away at the fabric above her landing strip, keeping about an inch or so above her slit. He stopped, moved away, and she could hear the shutter firing again. She felt the bed move as Chris changed position and felt his arms brush against the inside of her knees. She guessed he was crouching on the bed between her wide open legs, taking close up pictures of her through the torn panties.
Again he put the camera down and returned his attention to the last remaining garment providing what semblance of modesty she still had. His hand slipped inside her panties once more but this time moved past the area he’d been attacking with the scissors and rested on her pussy itself. She gasped from the contact, unable to stop her body from moving as he worked at the fabric, his fingers remaining in contact with her slit as he did so. Her hips bumped and he chuckled.
“You need to keep still, sweetie. You’ve made the fabric wet and that makes it harder to cu
t. You really don’t want me to slip down here—that would ruin your plans for when you get home!”
“Uh…”
Her strangled outburst accompanied the latest movement of his fingers as he applied more pressure on her mound in order to pull the fabric clear. His middle finger lay along the line of her slit and she could feel it sinking between her folds, unable to prevent the involuntary movement as her body sought to acquire it for its own purposes. Chris increased the pressure and she felt his fingertip touch her inner lips and tossed her head from side to side.
He moved away and the clicking resumed but this time he was closer still. She could feel his hands touching her thighs as he moved in for a close-up of what she could only assume was her exposed pussy.
“God, you’re wet. I can see it.”
Click, click, click…
“I can smell it too, sweetie, and I tasted it on my finger. I was right to call you sweetie.”
She felt her skin flush once more and her hips bucked as she felt the camera lens touch the skin of her thigh only an inch or so below the line of her ruined underwear.
“You want something?”
She threshed in her bindings, not wanting to speak to him as she felt his hands move up over her thighs, sliding closer and closer to her mound, to the forbidden territory which she desperately wanted to protect but knew she couldn’t. The scissors were obviously in his right hand as she felt the cold touch of the metal on her hip and then…snip, the entire side of the panties gave way and he traced a line across her stomach with the point, just as he had done with her breasts earlier. Snip. The other side let go and she felt him tug on the destroyed panties and the damp fabric slipped out from under her as he pulled it from between her legs. She was fully exposed once more, her body searching for another release. Her hips wouldn’t stay still, and she knew if he touched her she’d fly into another orgasm and be putty in his hands for whatever he decided to do to, or with, her.
“No… No…”
Her head tossed from side to side as his hands returned to her thighs, this time on the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, and slid toward her unprotected pussy.
