tagBDSMRoger Helps (Suzi as Lynn)

Roger Helps (Suzi as Lynn)

byAuryman©

Roger didn't give me any signal as to whether or not he was impressed by what I was doing. This was very disappointing. True, we hadn't known each other very long, but I did expect at least a little professional courtesy.

I slid the doubled rope gently between Lynn's ass cheeks then looped it once around the coils that cinched her waist. She groaned as I tugged it upwards and tight. I knew the ropes were biting into her cunt lips and pushing the hard plastic dildoe deeper into her rear, was tempted to describe that to Roger but stopped myself. That much fishing for approval would be obvious.

I didn't knot the rope there, but instead separated the pair into two strands, pulling each around front of her and wrapping it around the rope that had been laying slack across her belly.

"Ah, so the tension will be distributed even further up into her breasts as she moves?" Roger asked.

I smiled, almost bursting with pride. All my hard work was being noticed. Without answering, I brought the ropes back around behind her, crisscrossed them at her shoulder blades, and brought them around in front of her again, joining them again to the knot of ropes between her heavy breasts. I secured the ends there, tucking the remaining 10 or so inches of rope into the loops of what was now her bra.

I stood back to examine my work. When she had arrived with the 100 feet of cotton rope I had told her to buy, I was worried that it had been overkill. I cut it into three lengths of about 30 feet, expecting to use one or at the most, two. But as I was working, the look of the white rope against her flesh was enticing and I ended up using it all.

It had taken weeks of research and several hours of experimenting on myself to understand exactly how to make some of these knots and ties. Their effect was everything I had expected and more. I was not convinced that the ropes would tighten as she moved, but I was completely convinced that -- once they were attached -- there was no way she could them. Even a casual walk across the room would send wave after wave of arousal through her body.

We told her to relax her arms at her sides and march from the door of the hotel room to the far wall and back. Her first steps were unsteady. She tried walking on the balls of her feet, then on her heels. She walked with her legs slightly farther apart then normal, then tried watching with them slightly closer. She walking speeding up and slowing down. It was after about the fifth or sixth circuit that we could tell the fight was going out of her. She was beginning to accept the fact that I was going to take her as far or further than I had the last time we were together. Her fantasy that the presence of another person would somehow mitigate my behavior was in ruins.

I told her to walk over to the bed, then lay on it, flat on her back. I asked Roger to raise each of her legs while I pulled nylon stockings onto them. I dug a garter belt from the suitcase and put it on over her rope harness. When I had attached the stockings to the garter belt, I told her to go the closet and put on the black nylon dress hanging there. We watched her make her way to the closet, her slow measured steps indicating her discomfort. When she saw the dress, she turned to look at us, a silent and useless plea on her face. I nodded slightly, and she turned and removed the dress from the hangar.

When she pulled the dress over her head and down over her body, the reason for her nervousness was obvious. As she had expected, the places where the rope dug into her flesh were clearly visible through the fabric of the dress.

The most exciting part of the whole evening occurred next. While Roger picked a pair of shoes for her, I opened the door to the hotel room. Lynn backed away, shaking her head and telling us that there was no way she could go through with this.

This was exactly the kind of situation I had been hoping for. Roger and I had been in a competition of sorts over the last several years. This was the first time we had met face to face, but we'd been swapping stories of our encounters with Lynn since we'd first accidentally learned about each other. Both of us had met her on a phone sex service and both of us had convinced her to meet us in different cities while we were traveling on business. While I didn't find many of his uses for her to be very original, he had been the one who convinced me to push and find the limits of her willingness to go along with anything I could come up with. It was only in those moments -- those rare moments that only occurred now and then -- in which she attempted to resist that I could really enjoy plumbing the depths of her submission.

Lynn knew immediately that she had made a mistake and stopped talking. I saw her shoulders slump and she began to shake her head slowly from side to side. Her breathing grew shallower and quicker.

"Get me the switch."

She walked to the corner of the room and reached behind the floor lamp. She picked up an 18-inch long, quarter-inch thick bamboo switch. She walked across the room and handed it to me, then immediately reached down for the hem of her skirt. She raised it until it was around her waist, exposing the front of her thighs and her belly. Roger could see the several red stripes from the switching I had given earlier when she had refused to masturbate for us. Over our last two visits, I had determined that these are the most sensitive areas of her body, so they had become both my favorites and the inevitable spot for punishment.

"You have never had more than 10 strokes in the same location. I shudder to imagine the state you will be in after 15. Or 20. Or 30." The words were having exactly the effect that had hoped for. I recognized the look on her face. A delicious combination that reflected the struggle within her - a reluctance to believe that I would go through with what I had just proposed and the more informed realization that there was no reason for me not to.

I stood for a full minute staring into her eyes, watching the parade of emotions she was struggling through. Roger's voice broke the silence:

"Are we going downstairs?"

She nodded. I laid the switch down gently across the foot of the bed, then motioned for Roger to bring her shoes.

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