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Don’t try this 3

by Wallace

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Don't try this at home - Part 3
by Wallace

OOHH. I fell asleep! I feel all quiet and peaceful like I’ve been dreaming of ponies and bunnies in a little sunlit field with… Ow my neck hurts! Must have slept with it on one side.. Oh and I think I might want a pee soon. Oh God my arse hurts!  So much for ponies and bloody bunnies….

Oh and speaking of animals, it feels like I’ve got a dead horse with all the trimmings in my mouth as well. Why did I have to choose a LEATHER gag?

Bill, yes, Bill. Oh when he eventually finds me, assuming he hasn’t been run over or whatever, he’s going to come through that door and he’s going to stop dead in his tracks and he’ll look at me and I’ll look at him and I’ll smile as best you can smile through a bleeding great lump of leather and I’ll put my head to one side. Oow! I did it then and it bloody hurt!

 Anyway, I’ll look sweetly at him as if nothing unusual had taken place and as if I’m not tied to a chair in MY knickers and HIS shirt, (Good job it’s not the other way round or he’d have some explaining to do), and as if my face is not a bruised and bloody mess and my tits are not black and blue with just a side order of mauve and I’ll probably wriggle my arse at him as sexily as I can and mumble, if I can manage that, something like “HI HONEY”

And he’s going to look at me Colin. He’s going to look at me with those soft brown eyes of his and he won’t know whether to laugh or run screaming out of here. Fortunately he’s never done the latter yet.

That look, how can I describe it? Well I suppose the nearest I can get would be to say, think of a very sad King Charles spaniel with haemorrhoids and you’re about there.

 And then he might cock an eyebrow again and if I play my cards right that eyebrow is not the only thing he’s going to be cocking tonight and then he’s going to come over and do a sort of triage on me, you know a damage assessment and see what hurts most and he’s going to ask some damn fool bloody question like “Are you alright Sheila?”

Except that he won’t call me “Sheila”. He’ll use my real name, which he hides with this Nom de bloody Plume to protect my identity and my innocence! Hah, after what I’ve just written I think he’s wasting his time with at least one of those.

 Sheila! Yes I know it makes me sound old but it was the best of a bad bunch Colin! Anyway he always asks the same bloody question, which I will not deign to answer, of course. I’ll probably just growl at him or something. He likes it when I growl. I’m getting quite good at it too, ‘cos he asks a lot of stupid questions like that when I’m tied up and gagged and can’t give him the answer he deserves – probably why he does it! Oh my, I’m quick on the uptake sometimes.

And then if I’m lucky and I normally am, I’ll get THE CUDDLE. The cuddle that tells me that everything’s all right and that he loves me (I hope) and that he’s going to untie me. He’d better or he’s going to be wearing his dinner, even if he does have to cook it himself!

I’m not a good cook Colin!

Forget all this stuff about women being natural homemakers and all that other sexist crap.

 Colin, I could burn cornflakes!

Mmm cornflakes. Yes they would do. I like the chocolaty ones that make the milk into a chocolate milk shake and you can drink the chocolaty milk afterwards and end up with a little chocolate moustache when you’ve finished. How old am I? As old as I want to be thank you. Well at this precise moment I fell about seventy what with all the aches and the pains and the throbs. Will I still have a wet pee you ess ess why when I’m seventy? I doubt it, it’ll probably have dried up from overuse long before. Oh and my boobs will be about 2 feet long! That’s assuming that I can go another whatever many years without fatally injuring myself of course!

Its four thirty and Bill will be here in about an hour, if I’m lucky, so I think it’s time to do the dream Colin. Are you ready for this..? I wasn’t.

SHEILA’S DREAM (Being   a drama in several acts and involving the following players)

Dame Sheila Wilson (spinster of this parish)
Sister Sarah Beaumont (a friend of the above)
Doctor Helen Burtmann (a strolling player)

I like that, it’s got a certain gravitas, I think. You know something Colin? I think I missed my vocation. Oh I’m not really a Dame as I am sure you gathered. Unless we are referring to Dame as in Pantomime, which is probably, what I look like at the moment. Although I doubt if many pantomime dames have tied up tits. Well they’re men aren’t they? So I don’t suppose they have any tits at all. And neither will I if I keep this up!

Anyway they’ve both got titles so I thought I’d better give myself one. Oh I wish I could right now, I really do!

Right a little background to this. It was a Friday night and I like Friday nights because I can get tied up for as long as I want without worrying about having to go to work the next day. 

Now, sometimes he turns the baby monitor on and leaves me and sometimes he sits with me. This depends on what sort of mood I’m in and whether I feel like company or not! If he stays, he takes up residence in the armchair near the bed and reads the paper. 

Yes Colin, whilst I am tied up and struggling he sits there and reads the bloody Guardian! Yes, I know he’s a snob, but what can a girl do? Well she can do her best to try and kick the thing out of his hands as often as possible for a start! I always enjoy that one.

On this particular occasion he had done a rather good job on me I have to admit!
He had literally covered me in soft cotton rope, orange soft cotton rope as it happens, from my ankles to my shoulders. As adventurous Sheila was on the prowl again I had opted to wear nothing apart from a smile and he is always very careful when I am like this because he doesn’t want the ropes to burn me. Oh he is so considerate!

First of all he made me a nice orange body harness that started with a rope around the back of my neck, he kissed it, my neck that is, as he did it, which is always nice. He then crossed it through my boobies, knotted it about half way down my back and then tied my hands to it. Colin I should mention here that he does NOT tie my elbows together because he has a genuine fear of being murdered…by ME, and so he should! 

He then bought the rope around and tied it again at my waist. Of course by now I can already feel the restriction and I start to get a bit playful, it’s about then that he gags me. A thick clean cloth today, followed by a nice silk scarf to hold it all in.  I look at him all wide eyed as if to say “why did you do that?” and he fluffs my hair and gives me a little kiss on the gag and I look at him sulkily. He loves that! Yes he does Colin.

 I’m not big on sulking, although I have been known to throw the odd one or two in the past, but I do it for him ‘cos he loves the look on my face. So I give him my very best Ashley Renee Impression and it’s weird because the more I do it the more I feel myself getting into character as it were. “Tonight Matthew, I’m going to be Ashley Renee” and do you know Colin, sometimes I feel like I am. Steady on old girl.

He loves it! I can see it in his face!  He actually prefers me to have my knickers on rather than off for this, as he says naked is too overtly sexual. I’m tied up and gagged, with rope around my bare tits for God’s sake and he’s worrying about me being too sexual ….I worry sometimes Colin.

Anyway he likes to see me standing there looking all sulky and he holds me and fluffs my hair again and strokes my neck and shoulders. That fluffing, I tell you Colin, if he did that too me when I wasn’t tied up, HE WOULD DIE! But he doesn’t and I AM tied up and much to my shame and embarrassment sometimes, I push up against him and make little mewing sounds through my gag like a neurotic cat because I want more, and this could go on for over an hour, normally in the dark, apart from a few candles, and I LOVE IT!

During the course of this I normally manage to turn around and look at him and he is SMILING and he looks so calm and peaceful and happy and fulfilled that I could cry sometimes. We’re both simple souls deep down, I think!

Why did I emphasise smiling there Colin? Well you’ve seen him; you must know what I mean. Here is a man, Colin, for whom the word lugubrious was invented. Here is a man on whom the bulldog’s face was modeled. If you saw him in the street you would think that even to mention the word smile to him would cause his face to crack into a thousand pieces. In short he makes grumpy in Snow White look like a Born Again Christian.

Grumpy, crotchety, testy, peevish, irritable…

That’s his outer shell, his protection…. and his shield…

He eventually finished my harness with a KNOTTED CROTCH ROPE – BASTARD! Which he then pulled (gently) between my legs and the crack of my backside DOUBLE BASTARD! As you are not possessed of a backside Colin you would not know how sensitive and tickly that particular area is. Nor would you be aware of the sensations you experience when gentle hands are very carefully threading a fairly thick piece of nylon rope between your legs and through the cheeks of your bottom in order to tie the rope snugly, not tightly or loosely, but snugly, to the rope that he has already tied around your waist... 

It tickles a little at first and then you feel his hands against your pubic hair and you give a little sigh and a gasp as you feel the knots start to press against your clitoris and then a little wave of pleasure rolls up your body as the rope pushes up against your lips and then enters them.

What you can never anticipate is the feeling as he takes the rope between your legs and then between your cheeks and you feel his hands and then you feel the incredibly ticklish sensation of those hands against an area that only YOUR hands would normally touch and the fact that THEY are tied behind your back makes you feel incredibly vulnerable and there’s a rush and I must admit that right then I could just fall on my knees - it just makes me want to surrender totally Colin, but then the shudders start.

 They start at the base of my spine and spread out to the whole of my body and then I start to tingle all over and I have to hold back sometimes. On one occasion I didn’t quite make it and I climaxed then and there. He realized what was happening and held me against him and kissed my neck and shoulders and made soothing noises until I stopped trembling…

Did you notice that I managed to refer to my bottom on several occasions without once calling it MY ARSE!

Anyway, body done, he then tied my ankles together and literally wound rope around and around my legs until it reached my crotch and then he continued to wrap around my pelvis and hips until he reached the waist rope and tied the ends there. Oh and just for good measure, he tied my big toes together with some thinner white rope that just happened to be hanging about with nothing to do and then he very gently helped me to sit on the bed and then laid me flat out on it and do you know Colin there was BUGGER ALL that I could do about it.

I lay there with rope encompassing my body, held rigid, unable to move, unable to speak, and in total ecstasy!

 This is option time and I normally have several. Lying on bound hands can be uncomfortable but I don’t like to let myself off too lightly – it has to be a challenge. If I can’t move my body then my thoughts start to go elsewhere and I start to drift off. Obviously if you’re very uncomfortable this makes drifting more difficult, so I can opt to have my hands and arms rebound at my sides or have them tied forearm to forearm. 

If he ties them at my sides it’s very comfortable but not so restricting so he will then tape my fingers and thumbs up so that I can’t use my hands at all. Next option is; do I want him to stay or go? Sometimes I DO just want to be on my own as if I had tied myself up (but without the inherent dangers) and having first had a good old wallow in my helplessness, I then try to make a reasonable fist of getting myself undone! 

I mentioned the baby monitor didn’t I and of course we don’t have a baby! (Sad truth is I don’t think we’re likely to either)

This is connected to a master unit in the front room, which is where he lurks when he leaves me suitably blindfolded and hooded to play on my own. I like hoods. I have several rubber ones and a leather discipline helmet, which can really do a job for me if you know what I mean, but I have to be in the mood AND he will not leave me alone with this on – spoilsport!

So he uses a very stretchy very comfortable spandex hood on me. Think slippery Lycra Colin and you’re there and over this he ties another silk scarf as a blindfold and then I’m totally tied, naked. Vulnerable, sightless and speechless, I think he would argue about the speechlessness ‘cos I can still tell him to piss off in gag and a lot more besides!

Little touches when I’m like this are magnified a hundred fold. A warm hand on my tummy. A gentle stroke to my thigh or a brush against my bare toes. I don’t react outwardly any more. I've learned to accept it and feel it inwardly. I just lay there and let the feelings wash over me and eventually Colin, I reach a state of enormous inner peace, because I trust him completely and where some people might panic I just go deeper and deeper as I feel his hands so gently touching the non sexual but still very sensitive areas of my body.

Now he of course would argue that and say that as far as he knows there ARE no non-sexual areas of my body, but he can just go and play with himself on that one!

Now I say that I opt for solitude, but I KNOW that he doesn’t leave me for long, despite what he says. I KNOW when he is in the room. I can sense him, I can feel him, and I can SMELL him. Yes I can Colin, I really can. 

Smell is very important. For two people to be compatible they must smell right to each other. I’ve been with people who have smelt too sour or too sweet or have just smelt of nothing and I am not referring to bodily hygiene. Everybody has a smell Colin and his smell I like. I like a lot!

Oh we’ve digressed again haven’t we? I know, I know. And I REALLY want to tell you about this Dream but I’m very naughty in it Colin very very naughty and It worried me because although I’ve always accepted myself as being a bit, well, odd, this dream elevated me to heights of oddness that even I thought it was not possible to achieve. I mean I do things that I never even suspected that I could be capable of. 

For the first time in my life I really did something that totally shocked me – even if it wasn’t real.

Let me just finish off the other thing, mmm. If I opt for him to stay then he doesn’t blindfold me and he will just leave me on the bed to simmer having first asked me if I’m alright (yawn) and given me another little kiss on the gag.

That’s when he gets the fucking paper. 

Now the truth is, between me and you Colin, that this paper is only a device to protect his, well is it his modesty? No, no, it’s not his modesty. It’s just that he doesn’t want to be thought of as a voyeur. The paper gives him something to do whilst he watches me struggle about in my rope wraps, mmm try saying that fast 10 times. He really likes the sight of me bare(ish) and roped and gagged. He’s told me that, well I teased it out of him but that is definitely another story!

 So he reads the paper! Oh no he bloody doesn’t. He TRIES to read the paper Colin but he seldom succeeds because he either gets it repeatedly kicked or he gets a pair of cheesy feet in his face or….

Yes Colin I’ve got to admit that I can be quite horrible to him sometimes. You see for some reason and it doesn’t matter whether I wear tights or stockings (he wishes) or socks or pop socks (yeurgh) or nothing at all for that matter, there is something about shoes, even mules or sandals that have a catalytic effect on my feet. In other words they make them SMELL Colin, they make them smell in such a manner that even the most elegant of evening footwear has to be dosed with anti odour spray and left to cool their heels… (Ooh I think that’s quite clever, I’ll do it again!) 

Yes Colin even the nicest shoes have to be left outside on the balcony for a period of time to “cool their heels” after I have worn them. 

And my feet! My feet Colin. I like my feet, unlike a lot of women and I look after them. There are no corns, very little hard skin, no bent or deformed toes, just a pleasant everyday pair of size 6’s that don’t do anybody any harm… until they’ve had shoes attached to them that is and then… and then…

Think of a bad smell Colin. A cheese shop in the middle of summer before chilled display units were common, the smell of a room that’s had a half eaten pizza left in it all night, cats pee, sewers, a particularly redolent fart and then add something extra to it and you’ve got my feet after a hard day and if I am feeling particularly mean Colin I will not shower but simply give my whole body a thorough washing down before we have an evening together but Colin and a big but it is I DO NOT wash my feet!

Hah. That’s another reason I don’t want to be blindfolded if he stays with me, because I love to see the look of surprise, dismay and even horror that he effects just after I have, with a superhuman effort sometimes, wiggled my way across the bed to finally get rid of that bloody newssheet once and for all and then stick my smelly, cheesy feet right in his face and then rub them all over it and then stick them under his nose.

 I just love watching him trying to get away especially as I’m the one who’s tied up and I’ve got him trapped in the chair by a pair of untamable feet! Needless to say the exertion, not to mention the crotch rope, tends to get the adrenaline going. And it isn’t unknown for me to start to shiver and tremble, particularly if I have succeeded in getting a toe up his nose!

Oh joy!

I don’t always do it of course, depends on my frame of mind. Say nothing Colin; say nothing and you will be spared the pulling of your plug from the wall socket. 

Sometimes I just want a cuddle and a hug and with great deal of effort I will actually get up off the bed and sort of bunny hop over to him and plonk myself in his lap and say, "Hello darling give me a cuddle", through my gag. Although it normally ends up “ello arling iv ge a uddle!” 

Well this night was different. I was in a funny teasing sort of mood. I’d had a baddish day at work and who better to take it out on! I couldn’t have been that bad though because I HAD showered. Now I had taken very good care of my feet that night. I had washed them and dried them and used a nice avocado and jojoba rub on them before painting my nails a nice strawberry red and then rubbing some pleasant soothing peppermint oil into them.

I was naked, lying on the bed wrapped in orange rope from head to toe and my arms were at my sides, my hands and fingers wrapped in tape. I was gagged but not blindfolded and my big toes were tied together…not for long they weren’t…

Escapologists expand their muscles when they are being tied up; they hold them rigid Colin because when they let go and the muscles relax the ropes slacken. If he’s only using a couple of turns around my toes then I hold them in a slightly awkward position whilst he’s tying them. (Obviously not too awkward or he would notice, but I can normally distract him in some way, like wobbling my tits or wriggling my arse. Well if you’ve got it flaunt it! Though I think he’s starting to get wise to all that, I’ve noticed a little knowing grin appearing recently that I haven’t noticed before and I’ve also noticed him having a little clandestine sniff around the foot area when he thinks I’m not looking!)

When he’s finished I just move my toes back into their normal position and I feel the ropes slacken immediately. This means I can rub them together at my convenience and get them untied if I want to. (I like it, but it can be annoying after a while. It also gives me more freedom of movement, as you will see dear Colin.)

So I was done Colin. Well and truly. Like the proverbial Christmas Goose! Except that I wasn’t going to be stuffed! HUH! Nor was I going to be roasted, but I WAS going to have to watch him read that FUCKING paper. Oh no I wasn’t Colin, I had other plans. It wasn’t MY goose that was going to get cooked tonight Boyo!

I was lying there all quiet and meditative. Looking for all the world like I was having a little simmer and he was farting about getting his paper, adjusting the candles so he had enough light to read by, cleaning his glasses, oh, it goes on and on and on Colin believe me.

Anyway, while he was doing this I managed to work the toe ropes off and kick them on the floor by the bed where he wouldn’t (hopefully) notice and I’d also managed to slide like a snake inch by careful inch along the bed so that I was very close indeed to his chair.

When he eventually did sit down I pulled my legs back so that he didn’t notice how close I was. These are not formal occasions Colin as I am sure you have gathered. It isn’t like the BBC where the Radio Newsreaders had to wear dinner jackets to read the news. Though I did think of having a Tuxedo and a bow tie body painted on once, just for a laugh, might still do it actually…carnation in my lapel. Should be just upwards of my left tit….ummmm.

Oh shit why did I mention bloody tits? They’d gone quiet for nearly an hour. If tits can go quiet… Oh and all the aches and pains and sore arses and sore backs and tired knees and soggy shoulders and stiff necks not to mention bruised foreheads and broken noses have all come flooding back. I was absorbed. I was concentrating on my piece to camera as it were.

 God, please do not ever allow a camera to see me like this. Thank you.

Anyway I don’t dress up, I don’t even dress down, I just don’t, er, dress at all and he certainly doesn’t. So on this fateful evening Colin he was wearing baggy shorts and a tee shirt, no, not exactly the sartorial icon I will admit, but it suited my somewhat devious purposes!

In he finally trots paper and cup of tea in hand, didn’t even ask if I wanted one! Well the fact that I was not in any position to drink a hot cup of tea is not the point Colin. He could have asked out of COURTESY, it’s polite, it’s considerate, even if your partner is currently wriggling her puss against her crotch rope and looking like she is just about to go that extra mile. IT’S STILL NICE TO ASK!

Of course you know what would have happened if he had asked don’t you? Of course you do Colin. You are absolutely correct. You are a thoughtful, kind and subtle individual who knows well the ways of women.

Yes, he COULD have asked me if I wanted a cup of tea and I would have replied, through my gag of course, “What do you think I’m doing down here, having a FUCKING tea party? Why don’t you bring me a FUCKING SCONE while you’re at it as well?!”

The trouble is, that he probably would have done!

It is my right as a woman to behave in this fashion Colin and I reserve it, er, unreservedly.

Back to plot I think. He’s enchaired himself, got comfortable, given me a quick perusal to make sure I haven’t gone off or anything and then upped paper, having first had a delicate sip from his mug. It’s the one I bought him that says “DON’T BE AN ARSEHOLE, HAVE A CUP OF TEA INSTEAD”. Well I thought it was funny at the time.

 And then I wait poised Colin, like a Cobra ready to strike!

And I wait and I watch and I try to ignore what is going on down at substation Puss but that is another matter. He thinks I am helpless Colin, he thinks I’m flat on my back being transported from one orgasmic crescendo to another. 

But I’m not Colin. Oh no, I’m not, but he thinks I am, because every now and then I let out a little low moan to lull him into a false sense of security because tonight, yes, tonight, that paper is going to go once and for all and it is going to be replaced by something much more absorbing and interesting…that’s right…ME!… ME ME ME ME ME ME ME AND BLOODY ME!

He’s been reading for a couple of minutes, oh some shit about the World Economy, I can’t remember, and it’s time to pounce. But I have to be careful because I only have one chance at this, but I’ve been practicing for a while now. 

As quietly and carefully as I can I draw my legs up and back as far as I can from the hip and then I check range and levels using my big toes as a viewfinder. Make a couple of last minute adjustments. Then lock, load and FIRE!

Looks good, looks good, have to be careful though don’t want any collateral damage. Like the tea going over and scalding his nuts or something. No, aim looks good! Square on target! We have a CLEAN HIT control, 100% success!Yeehaa!

And what am I looking at? 

I am looking at a somewhat dazed looking man who is no longer holding a paper. His arms are outstretched and in each hand he holds a small SCRAP of what used to be, the fearless, frank, free and liberal Guardian. The remainder of which is now floating gently to the floor having been kicked very precisely, very cleanly, one might almost say surgically, from his hands and where the paper previously covered his face he is now aware that something else is about to do that for him. That something else being my FEET, which even as we speak are beginning to slowly stroke and caress his face.

 That’s why I wanted my toes untied, because now, very slowly and gently, I can just insinuate one between his lips and whilst I smooth his cheek with one foot, he will recover from his surprise, not to mention shock, and being the kind dutiful lover that he is HE WILL BEGIN TO SUCK MY BIG TOE, which feels so soothing and so wet and slippery and so outrageously dirty, that little puss, who’s been on standby for a while, decides to come online at just the right time. Yowza!

But it’s not his mouth I want tonight.

  No, tonight I’ve got bigger fish to fry and to reach them I have to go further south. A lot further south. So I gently withdraw my toe and as best I can, I trace the wet and slippery digit down his nose and watch with a little grin, that he can’t see remember, (because it’s hidden more or less by the gag), as I draw my feet gently, so gently down to his chin and then under it and then take them slowly down the front of his tee-shirt. He follows the toes down with his eyes, down, down to the front of his shorts where I let them rest awhile, cosying up to their contents. The look on his face is so comical as I keep them there, just lightly touching him, just gently wiggling my toes against the little package that I can feel there. I don’t think it’s going to be a little package for long. Not if I have my way that is.

I move them again Colin. This time I rub and stroke my way down his left thigh until I am free of the material and I can start to push my soft little feet UP the left leg of his shorts and now he knows what I’m up to and exactly where I am going! Well, I knew all along of course.

It’s not the Holy Grail that I’m after, or the lost city of Atlantis, or even the Meaning of Life. What I’m looking for is much simpler than that, though sometimes just as elusive Colin, because tonight, I am on a selfless quest for his COCK!

And I do not intend to fail!

His cock! Well what else do you call it? His dick, his prick, his prickdick? Hmmm, no sounds like something you stick paper with. Penis, shaft, love pole, uh? Love pole? Oh no, thank you.

No sorry, it’s a cock! And it’s a very user-friendly cock as it happens. Actually, as cocks go and I have seen a few, A FEW COLIN, just a few. Well as cocks go, it’s quite a sweet looking little thing really. Nothing special about it. Not over big, but not teeny tiny either, average build, average height, no distinguishing marks, well perhaps a bit of lip gloss sometimes, (!), IC 1 male (Well it’s hardly likely to be female is it?). Doesn’t do very much, just sits in his lap waiting to be played with as a rule, bit like the cats really and it does what it’s told and it behaves itself like them as well!

What’s that Colin? Does it get plenty of milk and cream like the cats? Well, I milk it regularly and I get plenty of cream out of it. What more can I say?

 Furthermore it doesn’t try to stick itself in me when I don’t want it to AND it responds to basic commands like “FUCK OFF!” or “it’s closed” or “I’ve got a headache”.

 I bet he wishes I did suffer from headaches sometimes.

 Now you might think Colin, being as you are a relative newcomer to this sort of thing, that it is not the cock that is responsible for these things, but the owner…


Take it from me. They have a life and a mind of their own and in most cases if a cock decides that it wants to do something there is absolutely nothing that your basic man can do about it.

Or WANTS to do about it apparently.

But that is not the case here Colin, because his is a friendly little chap who means nobody any harm. Well it does spit at me from time to time but that’s normally because I’ve been annoying it!

Best part of all? It’s mine Colin. All mine and nobody else can have it. Oh apart from him of course. On a temporary, on loan basis.


To play with and stroke and tickle and lick and caress and TALK TO, if I feel like it. Of course those occasions are very private, for obvious reasons. Like people might think I was not entirely all there! I am of course Colin. Colin keep up now. Alright sometimes even the cats look a bit mystified if they wander in and I’m on the floor on my knees holding it like a microphone and having a little chat, but you can’t keep them in the kitchen ALL the time!

Does all this make me sound like an old tart Colin? A demented old tart even? Linda says I behave like one some times and she should know I suppose. Might have to revise that later.

A WANTON OLD TART! Sounds all right to me!

So now both of my feet are gliding sexily up his thigh with one intent and he is now looking at me and I am looking at him and our eyes do not stir. 

As I get closer and closer to my prize, as I start to pull at the material with dexterous toes, he’s looking at me the way a fly would a spider. Except I’m the one whose caught up in a web, not him!

This is a power exchange Colin. I’m the one tied up and helpless, well almost, and he’s the one who should be in charge! But he’s not Colin, not tonight. I can’t talk, but he says nothing either. We just look at each other. There is probably more being said in those looks than we could actually say in words anyway and I’m now in a position to start to pull at those shorts with insistent little tugs of my feet and of course, as I’m doing that, I have to wiggle my hips and the wiggling of the hips causes the crotch rope to slide pleasantly against my increasingly wet little box of tricks and I now start to moan and groan a little. Some of that is from exertion, but not too much.

I don’t know how long we have been staring at each other but a particularly pleasant spasm downstairs makes me blink and at the same time I can feel give in his shorts and with one quick movement, before he adjusts his bottom again, I nip at them with my toes and pull as best I can and with a grunt from me and a little surprised yowl from him, I pull and I keep on pulling like an angler playing a fish. Only it’s not a fish I’m after and he gives in and lifts a little and the next thing I know, is that attached to my toes are HIS SHORTS and I give a little yell of triumph. A bit muffled but recognizable nonetheless and then toss them, (as best you can toss with your toes), as far away as possible and before he can do anything about it he suddenly has a warm, soft, pair of feet gently stroking his private parts! 

He’s looking at me again, in disbelief now and he’s torn between watching me and looking to see what’s happening down below.  He knows what’s going on of course because he can feel my tied up feet gently stroking him, he can feel my toes running up and down the length of him and I can feel it too, all soft and very vulnerable.

I move gently up and down. Little teases with my toes from base to tip. Then the soft instep very, very, gently rubbing up and down, softly, lightly. Believe it or believe it not Colin, this thing is quite precious to me, like it’s owner and though (I have been told) I have a tendency to treat the owner with a certain contempt from time to time, I would never ever do that to his Prize Possession. Oh well, that’s his collection of early Genesis CDs. So I’m all right there then!

Slowly and gently, slowly and gently and I can begin to feel growth and also his pelvis beginning to move against me. He can't believe I’m doing this and I can’t believe it either. I’m tingling everywhere, so surprised that I can do it and do it so carefully and sensitively that I am producing a reaction.

Knowing him, he’s probably wondering at the back of his mind if he can catch anything from this, like Athlete’s Cock or something. 

It feels warm against my feet, so strange I have to flex them. I want to try and hold the whole length between them and I do and I can actually feel it moving against me. I tease my toes around the tip. I can actually pull the skin back providing I am careful and gentle.

Our eyes are locked together again. I’m tied up yet I can do this .I’m not in charge now but neither is he. He could stop this at any time but he doesn’t, he’s utterly mesmerized by the strangeness of it all and then I move. I move down to stroke the underside, to let one of my toes dally underneath and stroke around his balls and then I hear a sharp intake of breath. 

Roughly the same area that makes me go weak when he touches me there, has exactly the same effect on him and I can see from his face that he cannot take these strange sensations much longer and neither can I and I put my feet together and slide against him up and down and up and down and his eyes are no longer looking at me, they’re closed because he simply cannot keep this going much longer and I am straining against my ropes and my puss is wet and slippery and my pelvis is humping against the crotch rope and he is breathing raggedly and making little gasping noises and so am I, through my gag, and I know what THAT does for him at the best of times!

I close my eyes for a second as I feel a little ebb tide of shivery pleasure flow through me and then I feel something else! I feel gentle hands on my feet! He is stroking them gently and guiding them against him.

 It feels so comforting!

His big warm hands stroking them, rubbing my heels, my insteps, my toes! We are moving gently against each other, he guiding me, showing me what he wants, pushing against me holding, stroking and my eyes close again and I lay there in my cocoon of ropes, relaxed and just enjoying this strange feeling

 I can’t hold back much longer and with one final effort I slide my toes down to the base of his cock, pulling the skin back as far as it will go and I put my feet together again hold them there for a second and then begin to slide them backwards and forwards as gently as I can and then back again and then forward until he can’t hold it any more and he gives a little gasp and a moan and his eyes close and I feel something I have never felt before.

 Warm spunk between my toes!

 And it is so dirty, so absolutely filthy and this stuff fells so warm and so strange and the very thought that I have just made him climax and cover my feet with his cum makes me explode! 

And then he’s on me holding me, kissing me and stroking my face and he knows this isn’t the end for me and I feel his fingers slide into Mount Puss and they’re so gentle and so delicious and so warm after the crotch rope and my feet are still wet but beginning to cool rapidly but the strangeness is still there and I moan and I moan and it ‘s like a chain reaction and I can’t stop, I can’t stop. Oh no, I really can’t stop Colin. I really can’t. It’s pushed me; it’s really pushed me. I’m going Colin, I’m going, I’m gushing, my back’s on fire, all my nerves are twitching I really cannot hold this any longer Colin, you gorgeous creature, I’m just going to pant and moan and wiggle my tits and put my finger on one key and go AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Phew! It’s about 5 minutes later and I finally did it. Well, you did it really Colin and you were sooo good!

 How was it for you Colin?

 I mean it was great for me it really was, but I don’t want you getting serious now. It was a first date after all and well, I don’t normally do that sort of thing with people I hardly know and I didn’t even tell you about the dream …but now we’ve, well slept together to be polite, I probably won’t be so embarrassed about telling you. If I can coordinate my limbs sufficiently that is.

Is an orgasm recognized as a cure for headaches and tit aches and what have you?

OH I feel quite relaxed now and ready to tell you….SHIT ! That noise .I think it’s the key. I think someone’s coming in. It must be Bill. I hope its bloody Bill! 

What’s the time? 5.30. Oh shit! Yes it is him. I can hear his voice. Why can I hear his voice?

 Because he’s got people with him!


I’m bloody, I’m bruised, I’m tied up and gagged, my hair probably looks like it’s been nested in by a flock of alcoholic seagulls, I’ve just orgasmed my arse off and he’s going to bring a party of people in to see me for a cup of tea and a chat!

He’s going to bring them in here to seem the AMAZING TIED UP WOMAN. Roll up, rollup. Please take pictures of this Ladies and gentlemen and show them to your children as a grim reminder of what could happen to them in the future! 

No he won’t. Kitchen door, kitchen door. Pussies locked in kitchen means Pussy being played with in bedroom! Remember. Remember. Don’t go forgetful on me now..


 Those voices. Those bloody voices, its Linda…. AND… Sarah!

Why Linda? Why Sarah? Why? Why? OH PLEASE NO… PLEASE NO, NOT THAT!



……….. That’s the only reason for this, THE ONLY BLOODY REASON. He knows, he bloody knows. Kitchen. They’ve gone in the kitchen. No they haven’t. They’ve looked and they’ve moved away. OH HOLY SHIT! They’re coming in here. There’s only one thing I can do Colin and that’s to turn you

© Wallace 2001. This work remains the property of the author. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. The characters and events depicted bear no resemblance to any real life incidents or to any persons living or dead. No reposting or copying is allowed without prior permission. 


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