Amber at the Party

She blushed hard at the thought.

She also knew too that it was getting wet down there. Or rather, wetter. She usually found dancing to be sexual to begin with and more so when dancing with somebody she thought was cute. Drinking added to it. As did drinking and dancing with someone cute.

But her juices had really started when he fastened her wrists to the pipe. When he had first put the cuffs on her wrists, Amber had been so naive. She had not thought that he was going to handcuff them to anything even though she recognized them for what they were. The cuffs looked too small and too feminine and more fashion wrist bracelets than anything else. She thought instead, maybe, they were going to go back to the party. And he would wait and see who would notice and snicker to themself. He could silently show off what he was going to do with his escort later, wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Like a submissive wearing a bondage, choke collar that was pretending to be a respectable necklace.

But once her left hand was attached to the pipe. It hit her. Oh my god, this is it. These really are functional and I'm helpless here until he decides otherwise. The feeling of being a vulnerable female surged through her.

She was carried out of the room and then there was a pause before she was hit by the outside air. The cool night air did nothing to chill her excitement or reduce what she knew to be an ever growing wet spot. Is there anyone out in the parking lot who can see me? Amber didn't know why she was more worried, terrified actually, about some stranger in the distance than she was worried about whomever (whomevers?) was helping James carry her - but she was. At least I wasn't carried around the dance floor, she thought as another spine tingling, shiver made her flinch.

She imagined she actually was naked. Hanging from the pole as she was carried through the jungle. A war trophy captured by a hostile tribe. Being brought back to the village to... She blushed at where her thoughts had led her.

With a couple of louder voices that she could hear, but couldn't understand over the mountain stream, she was maneuvered into a vehicle. Her butt and back were dragged across something so it seemed like perhaps it was a large SUV.

She was laid down on what felt like a sleeping bag or fluffy comforter. A light blanket was arranged over her, and they were off.

Amber woke with a start to find out it was a dream. It was another of her unusually long and vivid dreams, but she felt really disoriented trying to make sense of both the dream and also trying to wake up.

She had been standing side-by-side with James, and they were both looking at their reflections in a giant mirror. She was naked. He was wearing a nylon t-shirt and running shorts. He was sweaty like he might have just finished a run. The giant mirror was the outside, glass wall of the pool.

It looked like James, but he was different. His week-old looking stubble had a salt and pepper tinge, instead of being solid black. His face had a weathered, rugged look she had never seen before, either.

Was that a vision of them being a middle-aged married couple? No, her image in the mirror didn't look older. Just nude, waxed bare, and completely exposed. And flushed red with her usual embarrassment.

He also had - she gave it some thought - a slight air of menacing intimidation about him. Standing next to him naked and outdoors, when he was fully clothed, was intimidating to begin with. That he had seen her standing naked outside the pool before didn't make it any less intimidating this time. It was actually worse when she could see him and had to make eye contact. He looked a bit..., predatory?

His eyes were dark. He should be the anti-hero in a dark superhero movie. She decided. Huh, where did that come from?

"Well, well." He laughed. "What do we have here? It looks like somebody finds this exciting." He didn't try to hide his roaming eyes.

She looked more closely at her own reflection. Her nipples were hard, large and stiffly erect. Her normally pale cheeks were flushed red. Even her neck and upper chest had a reddish glow. In the bright sunlight, a light perspiration was making her skin look shiny. The outer labia of her pussy looked reddish and plump. That is even more swollen than last time I looked at it in the pool mirror. Is it because I'm even more excited, or is it just the new norm? Amber wondered in amazement.

"You like being naked and on display." It was more an accusation than a question.

Amber blushed as she couldn't think how to respond, until she finally asked. "Why do you look so much older and I don't?"

James stroked his chin. "That's a really good question. Why are you imagining me as so much older? This is your dream after all. Maybe you have a fancy for older guys...?" He trailed off.

When she didn't answer, he eventually continued. "And why are you naked? Why are you standing outside the pool in the middle of the afternoon without any clothes? Don't you know there could be students inside? Or even, this could be a Saturday swim meet full of spectators and parents.

Amber's blush turned a pale white as she contemplated that.

"Why do you have clothes on and I don't?" She tried to change the conversation.

"It's your dream." He responded dryly, but then added a little more softly. "Although, you don't always get to decide what happens in your dream. Then again, sometime you do."

"A lucid dream?" She interrupted.

"Yes, some people will sometimes realize they are dreaming and can choose or influence where their dreams go." He answered.

"Like having hot sex?" She asked.

"Yes. Would you like that?" He ventured.

"Take your clothes off or just make them disappear." She commanded.

James looked down. "Hhmm, that didn't work. Maybe you don't get a choice on that. But tell me what type of sex you think is really hot."

When she didn't answer, he continued. "That's okay. I already know."

"You already know?" She asked in alarm.

"Of course." He replied. "You know everything inside of your own dream. You want to have nasty sex without having to be responsible for it. Don't you? Don't you?"

'Don't you?'. The question rang over and over again in her mind.

Oh, but no. Amber realized. She was wrong about that. She had fallen asleep but it hadn't all been a dream. The mountain stream was still gurgling in her ear. There was fabric in front of her eyes. She had a ball gag in her mouth. And she was still on her side, apparently still cuffed to a pole.

The vehicle was slowing down to make sharp turns. They were off the highway and then suddenly the vehicle came to a complete stop.

She heard an indistinct shout as fingers fumbled up around her head. The ball gag was removed (James?), and the side of her face was wiped with something soft.

She guessed she didn't need to worry about attracting attention by drooling, when she had been lying on her side for almost an hour with a ball gag in her mouth. She was glad that it was as small as it was.

A straw was inserted in her mouth, and she could smell the faint odor of cannabis. Inhaling slowly, she was right to think it was a vape pen. After taking a deep hit, she let her breath out. The pen was held up to her mouth a second time. But the third time she kept her lips closed and shook her head. Instead, she felt the ball gag being gently put back in her mouth.

A few minutes went by, before there were more indistinct voices, and she was being lifted, and dragged, out of the vehicle. There was a pause and she felt fingers on the side of her face up by her ears. Someone was checking that the ear buds were still in place.

She was only carried a short distance before she was once again indoors. Another turn and then down a flight of stairs and she was laid down on the ground.

After she was unshackled from the pole, she was helped to her feet and guided up a few short, but steep, steps. Amber felt unsteady. Whatever sobering up she had down on the ride back was more than offset by the hit of cannabis. Having been cuffed to the pole in one position for so long, along with being blindfolded, hadn't helped her balance any, either.

Next, she was spun halfway around and then walked backwards with her legs forced apart on either side of a wide bench (?). Her wrists were attached to some type of cord that must have been hanging from the ceiling, although her hands were only about shoulder height. Or they were shoulder height until hands on either side of her hips gently, but firmly, made her sit down.

She was actually straddling some type of saddle. Hands pulled her feet back and off the ground and her boots must have been attached to a cord behind her. Her knees were bent with her heels up by her butt. Amber could swing them a bit side-to-side, but she couldn't lower her feet back to the ground. This forced her to lean a bit forward.

Whatever she was sitting on was a bit bouncy, wobbly like it was on springs.

She felt hands by her hip as the full length zipper on her skirt was unzipped, and her skirt was removed. It took longer to realize what the hands at her stomach were doing, but she gave a small flinch when she did. Somebody was using scissors to cut her top off. Was that really necessary? She wondered crossly, since it wasn't like she was going to have struggled, if they had taken it off before attaching her wrists to the ceiling cord. The scissors had to cut the full length of each sleeve in order to get it all off.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. One of my favorite tops. I'd almost not worn it because I didn't want drinks spilled on it. It was the first time since the wrist cuffs had been on that she felt anything close to anger, and it made her realize she didn't have any say in what was going on. And only just now realizing that, made her feel stupid and that, for whatever reason, made her feel sorry for herself.

She guessed, if she wanted to try and change what was happening, she could start screaming, but she couldn't imagine doing that either. She was feeling really turned on. Like she had been when hanging from the barn, or bouncing on her hairbrush handle with James watching from the other side of the mirror glass pool. She didn't want James to fail in front of his potential brothers. She didn't want to fail the trust that James had obviously put in her. And she just knew that if she tried to quit, she would somehow feel she had betrayed herself. She didn't want things to end in regret.

But the whole time it was being cut, Amber couldn't help but being really annoyed. It was only a shirt and, sure, it could be replaced. But no other top I have goes so well with the skirt. She felt just a little bit violated that he could cut off her shirt that went perfectly with her skirt without even asking her. If he had given her a shirt to put on at the start of the evening that he later wanted to cut up, that would have been perfectly acceptable.

But despite (because of?) her irritation, she felt silly and a little stupid. Was she really going to draw the line in the sand over her shirt being cut off, instead of simply being taken off over her head.

Amber argued with herself. Really? Being cuffed to the ceiling was okay. Being hung from a pole with my ass sticking out. My pussy only covered by a super-tight, stretchy material that was semi-nude to begin with and..., I can only imagine what it looks like down there now that I've been so excited and so wet for so long, ...there wasn't any reason to be annoyed he hadn't asked me about any of that ahead of time. There wasn't any reason to be annoyed I was tied up wearing only a semi-nude bodysuit. Well, I guess it was a semi-nude bodysuit and platform boots. Okay, semi-nude bodysuit, platform boots, some cuffs, and straps, and a couple of hair ties for my pony tail, and a cap/hood over my eyes. Oh, and two wireless earbuds. Perhaps, she thought that covered everything, word games and all. Not that she felt like everything was very well covered. No. I'm not very well covered at all. She giggled to herself.

And all that without being bothered about anything that was to come. She didn't know what was about to come, but she couldn't imagine her little ordeal-adventure was over.

Thinking about her situation - being cuffed wearing only a form-fitting, semi-nude outfit and wondering what was to come - made her blush and distracted her a bit. As she had already told herself, she must not be thinking straight. But, there was no way she could pretend otherwise, I'm still 'effing annoyed about my shirt.

When the last bit of her former shirt had finally been cut to pieces, the belt around her waist was removed. And then the hands moved to her shoulders and a strap or belt of some kind was put around her upper chest just above her boobs. More straps followed including around her waist. The cords, her wrists were attached to, were pulled up so tight she was lifted in the air. Straps were put around her upper thigh and then she was lowered down.

Those narrow wrist cuffs are really pretty but they aren't really very nice to be suspended from. She thought to herself after she had been lowered down.

The various fiddling with straps was accompanied by the occasional loud voice or curse that she could sometimes make out over the sound of the water. The sides of her hat/hood were pushed up and the earbuds checked again.

She noticed that her knees were now completely bent and she could no longer swing her heels around. Her boots must have been tied short to the straps around her upper thigh. Hands pulled her knees apart and then they were attached so she couldn't move them much either.

The adjustments moved back to her wrists. There was another cuff or something that had been added around her wrists. These must have been attached to something in front of her, because as they were pulled tight she was lifted up but was also pulled forward. Whatever it was, though, it at least felt wider and more padded then the narrow wrist cuffs. Hands directed her to lean forward and she was suddenly very aware of her pussy, and how vulnerable it was because her weight on the saddle had been shifted from her crotch to her labia. With her knees held apart, her thighs were no longer able to take any of her weight.

Some more fiddling, and cursing, and adjustments. And then everything went still.

It was probably only a few minutes, but to Amber it felt like eons. The mountain stream had not gone silent, but it must have been turned down as she felt like she was further away from it.

The stillness was broken by a loud, circus style drum roll, that made her jump. Although she was braced for the obligatory cymbal finish, she jumped again when the cymbal crash caused her to be blinded by light. Someone had pulled off her hat/hood. A cry went up from maybe a half dozen people. She felt herself turning crimson again and grinning. Although she rationally knew she wasn't alone, and was in fact, the center of attention, she had been able to sort of forget about that. She had even imagined her harness being adjusted by disembodied hands floating free and not attached to any actual people. Or not real people. Imaginary people that were just part of some video or film she was watching.

But it was rather harder to ignore an audience that was cheering madly. Cheering madly for her being on display.

As her eyes somewhat adjusted, Amber tried to make sense of it all.

The first thing that made it through her overloaded and addled brain was that it was not a saddle. She was straddling a Sybian-style vibrating machine and her body weight was pushing her pussy down on the knobby plastic attachment.

Oh my God! Her head was spinning.

As a still somewhat innocent girl, she had stumbled across a video. Some guys had set up a Sybian next to what looked like a popular park. As women walked by, they stopped and tried to convince them to try it out, in the name of raising money or awareness or something or other to prevent sexual assault in Africa or some other type of good cause.

Those that took them up on it straddled it, wearing whatever, mostly jeans, that they already had on.

They must have started it out on high because most jumped and some even immediately got off and refused to get back on. However, some rode it out, usually squirming in the process. They cut away, but a couple of them were obviously on track to orgasm.

The video was on a mainstream site. So surely she hadn't been a bad girl to watch it, had she? But it was something that she came back to once she started streaming porn sites in earnest.

Once the shock of that had worn off a bit, Amber tried to make sense of how she was restrained. She had some type of body harness on. There was a wide, padded strap that went around her upper chest. It was under her arms but above her boobs. There was another padded strap around her waist just above her hips. A padded strap went vertically down her front. It connected the upper chest strap to the lower waist strap, passing between her breasts and going down past her belly button. The lower waist strap was also connected to the straps that went around her upper thighs and her legs were bent completely back so her heels were almost touching her butt. There was a spreader bar behind her back that was attached to the waist belt. Each knee was attached to the end of the spreader bar and this was keeping her thighs spread wide.

She knew her pussy was going to be at the complete mercy of the vibrating machine. A tingle going down her spine caused her entire body to shiver, as if in cold for a few seconds, before she could calm herself.

Looking out, all she could see was blinding, white light. The room must have been completely dark except for the multiple spotlights shining on her. However, she could see that the cuffs around her wrist were the thick, padded type that you could be suspended from without it immediately leaving marks and cutting off circulation.

She was held, leaning so far forward that part of her weight was clearly on the body harness. There must be a cord behind her that was connected to the body harness in the back.

She knew she was up on a stage because of the short steps she had walked up, but she couldn't even see that far. Nevertheless, she could see some other large frames and bondage devices around her. It was obvious the vibrating machine wasn't the only entertainment option.

The music came up slowly, but she could tell it was coming from the room not her earbuds. It was a slow, ethereal, electronic sound that morphed into a slow trance rhythm. She had thought that maybe the mountain stream had been turned completely off, but it was still there when there was a pause between the musical phrases.

Amber couldn't see or hear anything that specific, but the room felt pretty big. Although she couldn't rule out people sitting quietly, from the sounds she had heard it felt like she had an audience of a half dozen or so.

She had heard gossip, from classmates at school, that the frat had a basement, sex dungeon. It appeared the rumors to be true.

Amber nearly jumped out of her skin, when the vibrating machine sprang, crazily to life for a second or so, and then shut back off.

Her sudden movement had caused the vibrating machine to wobble a bit and elicit another cheer from the crowd.

It took a few seconds to figure out, but she must have been entirely lifted off the vibrating machine and was now held up mostly by the body harness and somewhat from her wrist. The minutes ticked by as the trance music played on.