Recession Ch. 01

The ropes are tight over my shoulders. They're tight above and below my breasts. They're tight round my waist, and round my wrists behind it. One strand is tight over my panties.

They're tight everywhere.

Not that I was given a heck of a lot of choice as I walked in from work; you'd think by now I'd be used to being surprised, however much that sounds absurd. The blindfold was pretty standard, and I've got used to being led around the flat and not knocking my knees on any of the furniture. Being undressed in the hallway was pretty standard, as blouse, skirt, tights and shoes were almost ripped off. And being pushed through into the bedroom and face down onto it... that wasn't an 'unknown' either.

The gag was, though. At least I could breathe easily through it, even if I could only moan incoherently when asked if it was "comfortable".

My legs have never been this far apart before. I can't move my ankles an inch, the way they've been tied to the footboard. Lucky this bed's not too wide...

And, well, that's it. I've been left here. A pillow was put under my shoulders so I didn't rick my neck, and then... just the sound of receding footsteps, and the near-darkness of the bedroom.

All I can hear now is the traffic on the dual carriageway outside. Once I thought I heard a phone beeping. Was that outside or inside?

...Why wasn't I allowed to use the bathroom before I was tied up?

Time passes. Cars pass. My head thumps. And then knocks on the door. Whispers, too low for me to make out. Footsteps... what? No, it's not right! This is just for the two of us!

Whoever it is, they're in the room now. I know my lover's footsteps; this is someone different. They're seeing me, tied up and face down with my legs apart. At least I've still got my panties on! But what are they going to...

A zipper. The rustle of clothes. It must be a man, by his breathing. Surely I won't be used like that! It can't be happening! I tense up, waiting for him to touch me, wondering where he'll touch me, ready to scream through my gag, ready to squirm...

YAGH!!! THAT'S TICKLISH!!!

I try to pull my left foot away, and beat my knees against the mattress; I can't move at all. It's warm, and wet... it must be his tongue!

He's licking around the base of my heel! My cries of half-laughter, half-agony are muffled by the gag, only a low moan coming out. That's disgusting, I've been on them all day...

I'm struggling on the bed, trying to get away: all I do is bounce - there's no way my legs are going anywhere.

Eeeek! He's moving a bit lower! Please, please, I hope he doesn't go as far as...

...how could my lover do this to me?...

...I call out, but my gag stops me saying...

"Mmmmphhh!" NOT MY TOES! I buck against my restraints, but it's no use. He's searching out my pinkies, kissing them each from small to big. I can hear him grunt as he does it; is he wanking himself over my feet too?

How could... why...

NO!! It's like 10,000 volts up my spine as his tongue seeks out the gap between my big and second toes. I lose it for a second, and so does my bladder: now my panties are wet, and not with juices as they usually are when I get tied up. Can he smell it?

I try and focus my mind on my pelvic muscles to keep the rest of it in as he continues around my toes. Every drop of sweat that I perspired all day in my shoes has dried on them. Is that what is turning him on? Is that what is making him wank himself?

Now he's got my big toe in his mouth, and he's gently sucking on it. He's moaning low now too, with my toe as his own gag. Oh, please come soon! I flex my toe in his mouth - maybe it'll stimulate him more so he stops this quicker...

He lets go of my toe and goes back up and down with his tongue, covering every inch of my foot. He's craning his head round to get the top as well, and what he can of my ankle that isn't covered by rope. Every lick is followed by a satisfied slurp, as he savours the taste...

I can hear him wanking fast now. He's now got one hand on my ankle, so it must be with the other. Must keep my bladder under control...

"Hurry up or I'll pee myself!" I squeal through the gag; God knows whether it makes any sense to him. But his grunts are getting louder, his rhythm is getting faster -

- and suddenly the feel of his tongue disappears; there's his own scream, more like a cry of a wolf than a man.

I feel a warm fluid land on and run down my foot, in between each toe, and onto the floor. I hear him moan, and slump down. I hear a faint chuckle...

I feel like I'm spinning round, I feel like I'm falling, and then...

...A feminine hand on my head, brushing the hair out of my face. My left foot is cold and damp.

And then Hedda's soft, reassuring Scandinavian accent in my ear: "Well done, my sweetheart. We got the £100, and he gave me an extra £20 because I watched him. We've enough for the mortgage this month now."

She plays her fingers down my spine, and down to my gusset. "Ah, I see... I think we may well have the basis of a useful third income here..."