Bind

Silence.

I added, "You like it?"

He met my eyes, and there was lust and shame at the same time. Difficult to describe. "I don't think I can tell you what I think."

I rolled the other way to face him, letting my arms rock beneath me and lay toward him. He could see me, the front of me, my hair fallen around my face, my breasts tied and exposed. The way I had rolled left the sheet even lower than it had been and I realized that every time I moved it was slipping down my thighs. The sheet lay impossibly low on my abdomen, my dark pussy hairs were visible.

I repeated, "But do you like it?"

"You look like something I have never seen. This is real." He kept saying that, I had no idea what it meant. "Wow!" he breathed out, and it was at that moment that he noticed that my torso bindings were extending down along my hip toward the inside of my thigh and between my legs, one on each side.

"Oh my god! What are those?" He almost touched me leaning closer.

I looked down and blushed crimson. He totally noticed. What do I say? "Those? Part of my binding, they run between my legs, from here," motioning at my waist and waggling my hips. "It's the first thing I do, from my waist I run the bindings down between my legs."

He literally groaned. I loved the way he looked at me, realizing how the cords were pressed between my legs. I tried to stop moving though, the sheet was starting to drop open toward my crotch and my pussy was becoming totally visible. His eyes were shining.

I added, "I pull them inside my labia."

He kept looking at the black silk cords disappearing beneath the sheet, and now he could almost see the cords disappearing between my legs.

Some sense was coming over me and suddenly I felt very exposed. I concluded with, "Ok. You can pull up the sheet."

But he did not move, he kept looking at me like he hadn't heard my words at all. Instead he asked, "Why do you do this? Do you know?" He did not pull up the sheet and I could have at that point unhitched my hands and done it myself, but I so liked the illusion of being bound in his presence. I did not want to break the spell. I was bound, unable. He had to do it.

"I don't know, I like it. Hard to explain." I could feel the heat of my body, began to imagine myself masturbating. When he left I was so going to be masturbating.

"But how, when? I don't ever remember anything like this."

"It started as fantasy, I always thought about losing control. More and more. To not be in control. I started to experiment a little, and like the way it feels, to not be able to move when you want. To be helpless, confined."

"Anyone know about this? You do this with anyone?"

"Only you. Everything I do is me alone." I tugged at the bindings and began turn myself a little one way and another, pulling at each of the ropes, with his eyes on me I was still in a fantasy play, struggling. I broke the silence, "You like it."

"Shit. Wow! Yeah." I smiled. "Sorry, I just never in my life."

I was began to rock my hip feeling the cords slide between my legs, and before he might notice I said, "Ok, David, pull the sheet back up."

There was another pause. His eyes on me.

"You promised."

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

He looked like he had just snapped out of a trance, and then he so gingerly took the sheet and tugged it back over me, watching the whole time, I lay there softly for him. Yielding. I was so wet my pussy was soaking into the sheet beneath me, I could feel it running down the crack of my ass, I could undulate my hips letting the cords slide between my legs. Long delicious strokes. I knew he could see me moving. This was crazy. I did not want it to end. Before he left I slipped my hands out of their ties and sat up holding the sheet in front of me.

He was disoriented, moving to the door. I loved everything about this. He looked intoxicated, I sure as hell was.

What had just happened?

--------------

Here is what David did not know.

If I was into bondage before, my recent experiences converted me into an addict, and therein lay a problem. Without really realizing it, I kept trying to recreate these previous peaks that he was creating for me, and this was getting harder and harder to do - and if that is not the definition of an addiction I do not know what is.

I knew in my heart of hearts that having David look at me could only be matched by having him look at me again, but then what?

And I knew the answer.

Touch.

It was too frightening to contemplate for there was no way, so there HAD to be another way. I kept looking for something else, some way to get my fix. I began looking up bondage online, trying to figure out more extreme fantasies, something!! I was wet all the time, in heat, my pussy throbbing in my jeans, my heart always on edge, this sheen of sweat covering me as I schemed and planned.

The hardest part was when we were home. David was there, every day looking at me, insinuating. His mere presence made me wet. To have his eyes on me, lingering. He had not come to my room again, but what if he did? My room did not feel so safe anymore, which now ADDED to my erotic edge. I longed for the knock on the door. But all of this was operating below what I could admit to myself.

And it was worse. Not only did I want to do it again, have it happen again, it needed to be continually MORE. What did that mean? I needed IT to happen again, a literal physical need, like the imprinting of a baby bird on the first thing it sees. My last time with David watching me as I lay naked before him tied up on the bed engendered such an intense physical, emotional response - what other word is there than addiction.

However, the true reality did not come home to me until I began to make preparations for my 'really intense session.' First, I could do nothing but think about what was to come, and IT would finally replace David. Or so I thought.

I felt so completely focused, I waited for a week without binding myself in any way - seven whole days - until my body was literally trembling, I felt light headed with lust. I still thought of myself as a solo bondage freak, so I wanted this to be me, me alone. The problem was that I never was able to truly create a total loss of control, because I needed to tie myself up, bind myself and no matter how extreme, there still needed to be that one way of escape and so ultimately I would still be in total control. Fuck! There was no denying it. How could there be NO escape. THAT is what it was, and it couldn't be David. I wanted to be a slave, with fantasies of absolute obedience. Loss of control that is what it was, submitting to something outside and not inside myself.

So tonight I entered my room physically shaking with an exquisite mix of fear and desire. Could I even do this? This building sensation flooded me as I began tying myself to the point that I always had, binding my ankles and knees, trussing my torso tight with silk cords extending between my legs and tucked up inside my pussy lips, I let out a long breath pulling everything tighter and tighter. It was from this point I was going to be passing the point of no return.

I had bought a pair of metal wrist cuffs, and frozen the key to them inside a piece of ice that would lay in a saucer near the bed. I did not even know how long it would take to melt. Just before snapping the cuffs on my wrist behind my back the acute awareness that I would have no escape without that key overwhelmed me. It was like a wave of sheer panic had come over me, exhilarating, an incredible feeling, unthinkable possibilities (one of which was being discovered laying naked and exposed by my brother).

Snap, then they were on! No matter how I struggled I was trapped, the sensation of being unable to move overwhelmed my senses. My arms were pulled back behind me, and as I was laying face down on the mattress, my ankles and knees tied wide so that my cunt was totally exposed (the way I so loved to be tied up), almost imperceptibly my body metamorphosed into a state of mounting physical arousal: gradually my terror at having no escape turned into a feeling near-ecstasy that I truly, finally was trapped. I would have to wait. I could not touch myself. There was no way. It was working.

I struggled, imagining my naked body in the eyes of another, which gradually became my brother. I so wanted to masturbate, and being bound for longer than I ever had been, my whole body ached, my wrists hurt, my legs itched. After one hour, God I wanted to cum in the worst way, to feel myself, plunge my fingers into my clit. The sheet was soaked with my cum. I began to rock my hips against the ropes tucked inside my labia, so that my clit slid on the cords that were tugging at my pussy. I imagined a hand there, touching me, rubbing me, of struggling and yelling NO! I have read so many stories of what it feels like to be brought to orgasm while bound, pleading, begging but unable to stop it. Stop! Ahhh, I wanted to cum and I began rolling around on the bed, twitching my dripping puss against the cords until I had my first orgasm.

I developed a perfect rhythm, stretching my body out long, raising my shoulders while undulating my hips up and down, over and over with my knees spread wide. The friction of the rope would slide through my wet cunt, making a rough sliding contact over the hood my clit. I lay closing my eyes, sweating, jerking my hips against the silk cords and stretching until they dug deep into my pussy, a feeling of explosion running through my body. A tingling that held me in suspense, rubbing myself until my clit was raw. The entire world vanishing, that indescribable feeling of explosion while bound - the most intense feeling of all, as wave after wave I was cumming on the bed, rolling and moaning. Oh god, so good, it was like it would not stop. And rolling myself around as I orgasmed, I found myself laying on my back, my black little pussy mound suddenly visible in the mirror, the black cords trussing my body, pinching my skin. I sucked in a deep breath, letting myself relax, letting the delirious feeling wash over me.

Even though I knew that I could not unbind myself, and that I had to wait for the ice to melt. I lay watching the chunk of ice as my head cleared and actual thoughts once again washed over me. The huge chunk of ice immobile in the bowl.

It was not the same. I still had control I thought, it depended on time. But I controlled the time. I had the knowledge it would eventually melt, I could watch it melting. It was still a matter of control, a delayed control. How much greater would be the feeling of helplessness if I knew that my release depended entirely on another, on anothers whim. How could that be possible? David. Would he? I mean, to just help me. Just let me go. That is all. Letting me go. Nothing more.

Is there any other possible way, and my mind was wandering to that day he stood watching me. What if he were watching me struggle, knowing I was not free without him?

-----------------

The time came when the key lay in a pool of water, and I turned myself straining to see inside the saucer. I decided it was time and pulled my legs up in the air so as to bring my cuffed wrists up from under my ass and in front of me, so that I could unlock myself. I stretched my wrists as low as they would go and tugged, lifted my legs high, curling into a little ball.

Fuck!!

I couldn't do it. When I tied my wrists with the silks there was more rope and my wrists were farther apart. I could NOT get my arms in front. Shit. Another wave of panic, more intense than the first. I WAS STUCK.

My heart began to pound in my chest, a feeling as if the walls were closing in, as I reached and wiggled my arms toward the chair and saucer, unable to see what I was reaching for. Could I unlock the cuffs behind me? Straining to grasp the key. But how would I do this? This was harder than I thought. Maybe I WAS bound.

After a couple of minutes, I had the key grasped in my fingers. Now what? Where was the key hole? I hadn't noticed, and could not see. In my aroused state my thoughts had not been clear. I looked into the mirror and positioned myself so that I could see my wrists, and the key in relation to the lock. I wriggled myself over for a better view; until, yes, I could see. It was facing to the middle, a matter of pure luck. I tried to move my fingers so that the key would enter the hole, but it would not slide all the way in. Everything was reversed in the mirror. I would have to try again. I found myself straining and straining until exhausted I flopped back on the bed, a sheen of sweat. My naked skin shined in the mirror. My heart pounding, true fear. I tested my bonds, there was no way I could squeeze my hands out of the cuffs. I writhed, and for a moment reveled in my bindings, as my movement and stretching and pulling were once again causing the ropes tucked up into my labia to slide roughly through my center. I had rubbed my pussy raw with the folded ropes, and began to undulate my hips trying to cum again, swinging my hips and stretching myself so that the ropes rubbed right over the top of my clit, oh god another incredible orgasm waved over me.

Satiated, I rolled once again to get myself free. Fuck. But still aroused, exhausted, physically exhausted, god I wanted fingers in my pussy. I imagined a tongue licking the sweat off my body, licking my cunt, it was painful. I was too aroused, had cum too many times. Straining and moving this time, I was devastated by a massive orgasm that caused my body to explode in spasms and I rolled over onto my side. It was completely unexpected, just the presence of the cords between my legs was stimulating me now every time I moved.

I had to move rather gingerly now as the same rope that gave me so much pleasure now dug into my wet pussy, as I had rubbed my clit nearly off. Oh god, I had to get loose. Mmm! Ahhh, it hurt, ached. I could end up cumming again. God, every move was stimulating my raw pussy, god damn. Agony. What am I going to do? I pulled at my wrists, shaking my arms behind me. I tried to tip the key in the lock and felt it almost slide in, almost, but not quite at the right angle. I had to get it just right. Shit!!! I was STUCK! Panic was overtaking me, I was shaking my arms violently, trapped. Fucking trapped. I couldn't move anymore, I was tired. I felt like sleeping. I could hear my heart.

What I remember most clearly was that as I lay trembling before the mirror looking at myself, my wide hips and trimmed pussy, my gaping cunt, the black cords digging into my torso, and reaching down between my legs - and then I heard it.

I heard the front door! THUMP!! Thump!!

Shit. Fucking shit.

It was the front door, opening and slamming. The sound had startled me, but I was just too tired to move. David! It was surreal, as I lay thinking David would help me. Then realizing that he would see me, fuck. I lay with my face to the mattress and my naked ass lifted up in the air, legs spread wide.

My whole body melting at the reality. There was nothing I could do. I didn't have the key anymore, where was it? I didn't even know. Fuck. HE needed the key to let me go. My mind raced through possibilities as my heart pounded. I had dropped it. When? I struggled to roll myself over onto my back, feeling around, where is it?

I don't know how I kept from screaming out loud. I needed help, but had no idea whether to yell, 'Stay Away!' or 'Help!' And I could hear David coming up the stairs, "Sara? Sara?" I needed him to let me free. I was growing wet at the thought. There was a knock, and then the door opening.

"Sara? Sara. Fuck, Sara. You ok?"

"David!"

I could tell the moment he saw me by the sound of his breath. He was walking to me, "Holy. Sara?"

I simply lay there, naked, not moving. Feeling his eyes on me.

All I said was, "You need to find the key," and turning I waggled my wrist at him.

There was silence. Then he asked, "Where's the key?"

"I don't know."

He said nothing, I could hear him moving around. The room was silent, when he says quietly, "I found it. How long you been like this?"

"I don't know."

I felt the mattress compress. He was sitting beside me, I was motioning my arms toward him, but did not feel the key slip into the cuffs.

Only a warm hand at the small of my back.

----------------

I said nothing, laying there, facing away from him. His hand at the small of my back. I said nothing. The feeling sent shudders up my spine. I could barely breath. He was touching me, rubbing me lightly over my hips down over my ass. Part of me wanted to struggle, to say NO, but I was bound. And i didn't want it to stop.

My fantasy, I did not want to feed it. I closed my eyes. His hand. He was looking at me, could see anything he wanted. I was trapped, he had to set me free. He could do anything right now.

I made no noise, submitting myself.

I felt him move his fingertips in soft circles on my lower back, letting his fingers trace the black silk rope that was tied across my waist and down the crack of my ass, trailing his fingers along my inner thigh. I could feel his fingers slip on my skin, lubricated with pussy juice.

"Sara?" He breathed.

Silence.

I felt like an instrument, whose strings were pulled taut. I was so tired. My pussy was already raw from cumming so many times, and I could not squeeze down any tighter on those cords stretched between my legs, my body was involuntarily pressing to wherever he touched me. I had rolled a little so that I was basically laying on my front, my legs spread wide and my arms cuffed behind me, his hand drifting over the curve of my ass, again tracing the rope that descended from each hip right between my legs. My head was turned away from him, and I know he could just see the edges of my breasts pressed into the mattress.

He traced a line up my back, over my shoulders, grasping the rope at the center of back and pulling. It caused the cords to tighten between my legs and I moaned. He was silent, softly caressing my ass again and across my back, up my sides just touching the edge of my breast. His hand. He slid my long hair off my back, and moved his hand across my shoulders and tracing his hands down along my arms, touching the cuffs at my wrist, stroking my waist again and over my ass, tipping his fingers into the crack of my ass and sliding down between my legs. I could tell he was trying to see where the silk rope disappeared between my legs. I did not move at all, he would move me, roll me over, whatever. I was completely trapped, his.

He was so gentle, and the panic and bondage, and fear all mixing together with his gentle touch and the silence. If he were to beat me now, it would have seemed completely right and natural, when I felt him tug at my shoulder. He was rolling me onto my side. I complied, no struggle. His hand tugging at my hip so that my arms were extended back from my body, and my knees bent, there I lay on my side facing him, I lay like that looking up at him. His eyes meeting mine. We said nothing. Anything we said would be to end what was happening, so we said nothing.

The mattress was moving a little, and then his hand sliding along the outside of my thigh and over my hip bone, down to my waist. Up along my side, along my rib cage and so softly his fingers pressing into the edge of my breast. I had one moment thinking, my god, he can't be doing this! No!! But I did not move, or react. Too wonderful for words.

He would free me, I was not trapped. I felt utterly relaxed, peaceful. Only he could free me.

He squeezed my breast, and let his fingers slide down off my breasts and over my tummy, as I involuntarily sucked in my abdomen at his touch. I felt his fingers just brush my pussy hairs and then touching up along my hip, and over my ass. I felt his fingers curl around, grasping the silk ropes right at the top of my ass, and tug.