Strange Days Pt. 02

After a while (I had no idea how long) the suspension rope was slackened just enough that I could stand upright but still on my toes. Charlotte was gagged, so James took over the instructing. Oscar looped a cord around my neck and ran the two strands down my front and between my legs. When he pulled it taut from the rear, it fit snugly into my creases front and back; but this was not all there was. James told the guys to tie a large knot, strategically placed to fit into the groove. It was positioned directly over my clitoris, and with even the slightest movement of my body it performed its work on me. I gulped and gasped, sucking in my spittle past my gag and blowing out bubbles which foamed on my chin and dripped onto my chest. Tottering on tiptoes, I found it was impossible to remain still; and as I reached orgasm I began to twitch and squirm, which produced a feedback of swelling pleasure. The room was full of muffled shrieks and mumbled curses.

Thinking back on it, I'm sure we all overreacted; but the crotch-rope acted like a pressure valve, releasing two hours of built-up tension.

James called for an intermission... well, kind of. The males retired from the room for refreshments, leaving us ladies tied in the lotus position. This involves having your legs, with ankles crossed, drawn up folded to your chest; and you are forced to bend forward at the waist until your shoulders are between your knees and your chin almost touches your heels. A rope is looped behind your neck (not all the way around, so you don't get throttled) and tethered to your ankles to keep you restrained in your balled-up position. With your hands still bound behind your back, this is a very effective arrangement because you're completely immobilized, unable to do anything except wiggle your fingers and toes. It's also very taxing on your muscles and joints. We were still gagged. My jaws ached and my mouth had run dry of saliva so my lips felt parched and cracked. A wafting draught from the air-conditioning felt clammily cold on my skin damp with perspiration. We huddled in complete silence, except for the rasping sounds of breathing through the gags. With my blindfold still in place, I felt completely alone, totally helpless. I lost track of time.

When the men finally returned and I thought the session might be over, I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad. In fact we had barely begun. There were many more positions and postures to be put into and torments to be put through, including a bout of tickle torture. For this our gags were removed and we screeched and screamed, begged and blasphemed. We were way past suffering in dignified silence. After that the bondage became more intense. I was trussed in an excruciating hog-tie with my wrists tethered to my ankles and my upper torso strapped in a yoke that tugged on my shoulders to arch my body backwards, so that as I lay on my belly I was staring (blindly) at the ceiling, making pathetic whimpering sounds.

When he released me from the harness and I lay prone, my hands still tied behind my back, Oscar crouched beside me, once again gently caressing my neck, back and shoulders. In my heightened state of receptiveness, the tickle of his fingernails gliding deliciously across my skin made me shiver. I don't think he realized how stimulating his touch was, until the gooseflesh rose on my quivering body.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Of course," I croaked.

He pushed the ball-gag into my mouth.

To a degree, at least, I had anticipated the physical reactions I would experience. I knew the ropes and gag and blindfold would mess with my adrenaline, endorphins and hormones. Nevertheless, my emotional response was a revelation. It was not unlike what I felt at the CMNF party. I found my bonds to be in a sense liberating, even empowering; and the stricter the bondage the more I felt this. It was that paradox again. Surrendering control, being forced and tied into all sorts of poses, some of them painful, others degrading, endowed a sense of freedom, to explore and test my boundaries and my feelings. The physical restraints relieved me of emotional constraints. How you react to something that is outside your control can define you just as much as the decisions you can and do make. The ropes acted as a channel, or a doorway, to new perceptions. Most especially, by daring to be vulnerable I discovered my strength.

The bondage came to a close well after midnight. We were released from the ropes and our gags in an unhurried manner so that we could come down slowly. We remained blindfolded as our other senses gradually readjusted. I had been sightless for something like six hours, and once my vision was restored it took a while to adapt, not just to the sudden saturation of light but to the sight of the implements of my bondage and my torment strewn about. I was shocked by the deep pink grooves and ridges and faint purple bruises on my skin, on my arms, legs and torso, which hadn't bothered me until I saw them. I was suddenly aware that I stank of stale sweat and saliva, that my hair was sopping and my bikini was sodden.

The walk back to Lakeside Hall permitted me to stretch my stiff limbs and flex my aching body. Richard carried my clothes. Though clad in just my damp two-piece (having lacked the foresight to bring spare underwear), I didn't mind the sharp bite of the early morning wintry air. It jolted me out of my torpor and was soothing on my skin. It was around three in the morning when we entered the lobby, and no one else was up and about to witness us all creeping in.

Richard and I had the room to ourselves because Stephanie stayed on at Charlotte's place. I was physically exhausted but my brain was still buzzing. I fumbled woozily with the straps of my bikini until Richard pressed my hands to my side and undressed me. I lay passively on the bed while he made love to me with such verve that it hurt. When I woke mid-morning he was gone and Steph was just coming in. She and the others who remained at Charlotte's had resumed the bondage and did not finish until after dawn. I admired their stamina. I had been pleased with getting through my own session. Even our hostess had looked haggard as we departed. But I remember that shining through the blur of fatigue had been exhilaration, and heightened curiosity. This lingered. It was as if something had been activated inside me, a desire to further explore my limits and limitations.

I never thought to ask Richard who his bondage partner had been; nor do I know how the girl-girl pairs rotated their roles. But Steph and I talked a lot about that night. She was very interested in my reactions and perceptions, to the extent that I realized she was gauging my responses. I could tell that an offer was about to be made.