Knotty Girl

"Fuck yeah!" he yelled.

"Teal!" she yelled at the same time.

If his ears heard the word, his cock was still pulsing and before he could even move, less than a second later, the second jet went right in her mouth. She swallowed, then opened her mouth to say the safeword again. "Teal,"she yelled as more spunk landed on her cheeks. "Fuck, teal you asshole!"

Roger became dimly aware she was saying something as he finished stroking out a fine load on his, apparently now angry, girlfriend.

He let go of his cock. "Did you say--"

"Teal, you jerk off."

Roger sheepishly apologized and then set about freeing her at once. Her hands free, she wiped his cum from her face and wiped it on the sheets. Amy got out of the bed without a word, dressed and left his apartment, leaving him to wonder what it was he had done that was so bad.

All the way home Amy could not get the scowl off her face. She had no idea why the idea of a facial tripped her squick factor while swallowing didn't. But whatever the reason, having a guy come on her face was about the farthest thing from sexy she could think of. The next day she got a new phone and hung a small sign outside her door. It read, "If you are here to discuss spa treatments, go home."

Amy didn't date again for a long, long time.

[2]

After graduation Amy took a job with a bank on the opposite side of town. She lived in an apartment building that was home to mostly twenty-somethings fresh out of college, like her. Many of the residents dated in a revolving set of relationships that no amount of social media could hope to keep untangled. Amy didn't join in, although she did find the parties fun.

It was at one such party that Amy met a young man named Ben. He had moved in sometime in the last week and didn't know many of the people. When he realized Amy was not among the frequent daters, he sidled up to her. Though all the men in the room stole glances at her, as always, few spoke to her since they knew she wasn't likely to join them.

"Hi," he said casually. "I'm Ben." He offered her a beer instead of his hand.

"Amy."

"I'm new here Amy. Think we could step out on the balcony and you could tell me some of the rules?"

"Rules? What do you mean?"

"Come on, let's talk outside."

On the balcony the weather was only a bit cooler than inside. She drank from her beer. "What kind of rules are you talking about?"

"The informal things, like who never gets asked out, who always gets asked out. What am I supposed to bring to a party like this, do you only date women, that kind of thing."

Amy nodded through most of his questions, then nearly choked as he finished. "I don't date women. What do you mean?"

"It's not that I mind, I just figured there was a reason none of the guys were hanging around you. You are easily the best looking woman here."

Amy shrugged. "I'm not much into dating right now." Ben nodded and she proceeded to tell him as much as she could think of regarding the informal rules of the apartment building. He asked relevant questions and his attitude indicated he was very interested in getting up to speed quickly.

As they finished off their second beer, Ben asked, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You hardly know me, but I suppose you can ask."

His eyes traveled down her shirt, lingered on her breasts, and returned to her eyes. "Do you always dress this provocatively when you aren't trying to get a date?"

She shook her head, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Tight shirt, obviously no bra. And with breasts like yours you must know you are going to get attention."

"Just because I don't wear bras doesn't mean I am advertising for attention."

"Maybe not, but I still think you are."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't bother you that men are staring at you. I think you like it."

Amy just stared at him for a moment before she stormed back into the apartment, grabbed her jacket, and went home.

She didn't see Ben for days after the conversation on the balcony. She wasn't sure if they were mutually avoiding each other or simply not running into each other, but it added up to the same thing. One afternoon she found an unstamped envelope in her mail. She opened it to find a small piece of paper and an ad from the newspaper. The note said, "Just think about it." The ad was for a model at the art school downtown. She checked the website and found what they were looking for were men and women who would pose nude for students to draw. Though her first reaction was to tear up the ad and close the browser, she found herself staring and thinking about the idea for a long time.

For the next week Amy asked herself over and over if she wanted to do it. Finally she decided it wasn't that she wanted the attention, but that she could help the students since they still needed models.

When the day came for her to finally drop her robe in front of the class, she found it was the most liberating feeling she had ever had. As she walked into the room, two dozen art students peered out from behind easels to see her. The teacher, Sarah Ingalls, introduced her and announced they had an hour to complete a sketch. Amy took two steps up onto the platform, dropped her robe and sat down on the simple wooden chair, crossing her legs and placing her hands on the armrests. She eased back into the chair, breasts and chin held high. That was when she saw Ben. He wasn't smiling, just quickly shifting his glance between her and his easel. Without moving her head, she scanned the room with her eyes, taking in the expressions of concentration on their faces.

The students, men and women alike, looked at her intently as they tried to reproduce her appearance. Amy found at once that she loved the attention. Ben had been quite right about it, and she had never even considered the possibility. For the next hour Amy's excitement built. She was sure she could smell herself, and she knew she was wet. Her nipples spent a very long time being hard little erasers, to the point that she wondered if the room was as cold as they were telling her it was.

Finally, the teacher told the class time was up, and Amy put on the robe and went to the waiting room to dress. Ben and the teacher were waiting for her when she finished. "Amy, I can't thank you enough for coming to pose for the class," Sarah said, "We've been a couple of months without a female model."

Amy nodded. "It was interesting, and I'm glad I did it."

"So will you come back on Friday?"

"Friday?"

"I have two classes a week, at the same time on Tuesday's and Friday's."

"Uh, sure, I can use the money. See you Friday."

Amy and Ben left the small campus walking together. "I'll bet you just asked me to do that class so you could see me naked."

"I'll have you know that I've been in Sarah's class for a couple years now. I didn't sign up last week as a way just to see you naked. I can't say it doesn't make me happy that I had the chance today, but who wouldn't? You're beautiful."

"Thanks," Amy said, "But I know I'm not beautiful."

"You sell yourself short, but that's okay. Anyway, it was a real treat to see you today."

There was a long silence. Amy said, "Sorry if I've been avoiding you. I wasn't interested in hearing what you had to say that night, and I'm not even sure I want to hear it now."

"Can you tell yourself that you enjoyed modeling today?"

Amy sighed. "I'll be back on Friday. Let's leave it at that."

Ben smiled wide and laughed. "Too bad I'm not in that class as well."

...

On Thursday night there was another party. Ben and Amy both showed up and once again found themselves on the balcony. "Have you heard of the book 'Fifty Tones of Skin,'" Amy asked.

Ben nodded. "A little, from what I hear it has a lot of bondage in it."

"Some," Amy said. She paused. "There's this one part where a girl is tying herself up."

"Self bondage?"

"Uh huh. She kind of gets into trouble one time when she can't free herself."

"Sounds like a not unexpected problem."

"Well, if you were smart you'd have a primary way to get loose, a backup, and then some kind of last ditch, failsafe plan if the first two didn't work."

Ben noticed the shift in her perspective, but didn't say anything. "Why would it be last ditch?"

"The last ditch plan would have to involve another person who would come help you out of your, ah, bind. I think the idea is that it would be very embarrassing."

"Then why have it as an option at all?"

"For one, I guess it could be a tease, the possibility of being discovered. A second would just be safety." Ben nodded, Amy swallowed. "Do you think that's weird?"

"No," he said, "I don't think it's weird at all."

Amy didn't get a chance to ask him a follow up, because as soon as he was done he went back inside and got another beer. He did not rejoin her on the balcony.

[3]

That Friday Amy had a horrible day at work. Several tough deadlines, no control over the people responsible, and yet she was the one who was supposed to make it happen. The frustration had pushed her to the edge of screaming before it had resolved itself, just barely, by the end of the day. Still keyed up, she made her way to Sarah's studio across town. Sarah had a couple of pieces she wanted her to wear for the posing today, a scarf that draped over her shoulders and a pair of sling back heels. Sarah gave her a quick look over after she put them on then escorted her out into the studio where another dozen students took in the sight of their newest model before launching into sketches.

That night there was one particularly good looking young man in the class. He never made eye contact, but she watched as he frequently adjusted the position of his cock in his pants. The hour passed quickly as she kept wondering what his dick looked like.

Arriving at home Amy found herself incredibly horny. She had some dinner, watched some TV, and then retired to her bedroom. Her laptop computer was open by her bed. Amy pulled off her shirt and removed her skirt. Opening her closet she selected a black underbust corset and went about lacing it up. With her small waist and good sized breasts, the effect was stunning. Next she pulled on a pair of stockings, and then some stiletto heels. Donning a set of elbow length gloves, she went to the kitchen and retrieved a small container from the freezer. Returning to the bedroom, she popped the top on the container to reveal a pair of scissors frozen inside, along with a piece of twine sticking out. Amy attached another piece of twine to it and then suspended it from the ceiling near her bed. Under it she placed a towel. She opened the top drawer of the bedside table and took out one of her favorite toys, a wearable vibrator. It had straps to secure it around her waist and upper thighs, the purpose being to secure the vibrator squarely on the wearer's clit. Tightening the straps she gave it a brief switch on to check its position. Satisfied, she opened her laptop and called up the failsafe email program she had downloaded two weeks ago. She told it two hours, and then the timer started.

Getting on the bed Amy tightly secured her legs to the corners of the bed, then secured her left wrist. Taking a deep breath she switched on the vibrator and pulled the loop taught around her right wrist. Until the ice melted in an hour and a half and gave her the scissors, she would have to just whimper through orgasm after orgasm as the fresh batteries in the vibrator gave her a release from the worries of the day. Amy never did any real study on the subject, but after about fifteen minutes she found she wasn't thinking about much of anything except her next orgasm. A session of two hours always left her tired, satiated, and clear headed.

As the hour and a half neared an alarm went off to get her attention. The scissors were just about to drop. The scissors dropped free, bounced off her hand and landed a foot away. With her hands tied the way they were, they might as well have been a mile away. She panicked, but only for a second before another orgasm came on. She grunted through it. Her fingertips could just touch the twine. She strained and strained but could barely make the scissors move.

Time was running out. In just a few minutes now the email to Ben would go out, telling him she needed his help and to come quickly. She also gave him the location of her emergency key so he could let himself in. Trussed up and looking more than good enough to fuck, Amy redoubled her efforts to get the scissors, panting as the vibrator kept teasing her.

...

In his apartment Ben was watching a movie on-line. He hadn't seen Amy since his class on Tuesday. Suddenly his work phone and webmail signaled he had a message. "Ben, I need your help. Please get the spare key from under the ginger plant down the hall and come to my apartment."

Ben was hard in an instant as he hoped he was the failsafe! Figuring she must be in trouble by now or the message would not have gone out, Ben jumped up, pulled on a pair of sweats and went down the hall. He found the key right where she said it would be. He put the key into the lock just as he heard the chain come loose and the deadbolt turn. A very flushed and disheveled Amy was visible through the opening. She was wearing a white robe, but some kind of corset was visible through the gap in the robe. He couldn't see anything else.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure, sure. Uh, thanks for checking on me, and please put the key back."

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, now very aware that she was out of breath and flush from the chest up.

"Yes, why?"

"Because you look like, ah, never mind."

Amy grinned. "As I said, thanks for checking on me. Please put the key back." She shut the door. Ben went back to his apartment and got rid of his hardon the old fashioned way before going to bed.

...

The next week Amy enjoyed her posing class, even more so because this week she was not seated with her legs crossed. Ben had to put his eyes back in his head every time he looked at her. On Wednesday, after another day of frustration at work, Amy made an impulse purchase online.

She had been reading more and more about self bondage and had found a number of support groups. Many dabbled in technical pursuits as they tried to produce a really good tease. Wanting to take her private hobby to a new level, Amy purchased a home made toy from a man with many good reviews. It arrived by express mail only three days later, and after her posing class on Friday, she was quite ready to try it out.

The package was square, a box a foot on either side and six inches tall. It was plain and brown and gave no indication of what was within. Back in her apartment she changed into more comfortable clothes and sat at the table with the box.

Inside she found a dildo, a holder for a vibrator, something that looked like a seat with a hole in the center, a pair of handcuffs, two USB cables and a CD. Realizing she was already wet, she quickly reviewed the instructions. The whole thing was sold as a "Fucking Trainer." The dildo attached in the center of the seat, which was actually two pressure plates. These were connected to a USB cable. The pressure plates also connected to a 120V switch, which was used to control a vibrator. Amy took the lot and went to her bedroom.

Affixing the dildo to the seat, and then her Hitachi to the switch, she installed the program and then experimented with the settings. The pressure plate idea was simple, with the Hitachi plugged into the switch, every time she compressed the plates the vibrator would turn on. The USB cable allowed the program to count repetitions. When a certain number was reached, the other USB cable released the cuffs. The cuffs were supposed to fail to the "unlocked" position in the event power was lost. A failsafe, such as her email program, was not included, so she decided to use the one she already had. Amy looked over the cuffs and figured out she could add another safety by using the scissors and ice trick again, but this time she would secure the cuffs to a chair and not to each other. Thus, she could cut the line and free her hands if necessary.

Eager to try the whole thing she got the scissors from the freezer, tied them to the ceiling and then tied the cuffs to the chair.

This is about the time when it is important for us observers to realize that Amy had not yet admitted to herself she was an exhibitionist. She was also very interested in Ben, and had not admitted that yet either. The two were on a collision course, and it couldn't go on forever.

Amy stripped, then went to the closet and put on her black underbust corset, lacing it just a bit tighter than usual. Looking at the height of the chair, she kicked the slingback shoes back into the closet. By now the installation program was done and the program was running. The selection of interest was how many times to repeat the task before the cuffs would open. "Better test this thing out," she said to herself.

Straddling the chair, she lowered her pussy down onto the dildo, pleased with the size they had provided. Sure enough, when her weight came to rest on the plate the Hitachi jumped to life. She purred, then lifted herself up. With her feet alongside the chair she couldn't fully straighten her legs. Though this was important, she was thinking about what Ben would think if he found her here. Turning the chair to face the laptop, Amy used a pair of cinch knots to tie her ankles to the chair. As she finished the second one, the dildo was already two inches inside her, and she couldn't raise up any more. That was the whole point of the 'trainer': once you started, you had to finish.

Checking again on the positioning of the scissors, the busty self bondage novice selected the number of reps from several available options, clicking on '10.' Already eager to lower herself down to the plate, she called up the failsafe program and entered two hours, figuring the experiment of ten reps would take only a couple minutes at most.

At last ready to begin, Amy first started the email failsafe, then locked the cuffs around her wrists. Lowering herself to the plate was a mixed sensation. Though she wanted a true tease, not only was the dildo just a bit too deep when she was all the way down, in that position the vibrator was perfectly positioned to get her off very, very quickly. Reveling in the sensations, she lowered herself slowly down the length of the dildo, groaning as its length filled her. She felt the ball of the Hitachi contact her and then her weight pressed down on the pressure plate. The Hitachi kicked on, hitting her clit with a blast of sensation that threatened to get her off in seconds. Amy lifted up, teasing herself, and the vibrator shut off. "Nine more to go," she said, realizing that the only way she could rest was in the up position with her knees bent. She realized that was going to be just as strenuous as resting in the down position with the vibrator on. After four reps she allowed herself one quick orgasm before pushing back up. "I better knock these out before my legs cramp up," she said to herself. She opened her eyes and checked the display.

"Complete: 4 Remaining: 96"

"96? What the hell?" she said aloud. Examining the screen she saw the 10 button was right next to the 100. Had she hit the wrong button? Had the program just fucked her over intentionally at the whim of the programmer? Fucking software. Fucking perv that wrote it. Fucking clumsy hands clicking the wrong button.

Deciding she better get busy, she knocked out the next twenty without staying down long enough to be distracted by another orgasm. But after that twenty she needed a rest, and while resting in the down position the vibrator extracted two rapid fire orgasms from her before she could lift herself up. She made it to twenty-five the next time, and had two more climaxes. Next time she reached twenty-eight and had three orgasms before she could raise up.