or
How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bondage
This is the true story of my birthday weekend a month ago. It takes a while to get started, so I hope readers will bear with me through the convoluted introduction. Some time ago I committed myself to writing up all of my TUGs adventures of the past decade, a task I’ve never completed. So now I am taking the opportunity to set things right with some early digressions.
Alex and Michelle
He is my brother and she is his girlfriend. Alex is nearly three years my junior. He’s a true aficionado of bondage games who learned and perfected his craft under the inspiration and guidance of yours truly. Indeed, as I have written about previously, the first time I was ever tied up it was he who did the deed; and over the next few years I could rely on him whenever I wanted to play the damsel in distress. Of course, as we got older, we moved on... not from TUGs, of course, but from Lil Bro tying up Big Sis.
Michelle and I met at university, and I thought that she and Alex might hit it off together, even though it’s an odd match. She’s gorgeous and elegant, some two years older than my brother and in my opinion way above his class (although in this respect I guess I may be biased). After they became a couple, we went on double dates, but the topic of bondage never came up in conversation, except via a few oblique references. But then, one morning, I called round to her place for some reason I no longer recall. She lived in a small apartment located just off-campus. It was Saturday and the building was full of activity, with people coming and going or just hanging about, but Michelle’s flat was mysteriously quiet. I wasn’t surprised when it was Alex who answered the door, but I became increasingly baffled as he ushered me inside, nonchalantly made me a cup of coffee and offered me some of his breakfast.
From his odd demeanour I knew he was up to something, and finally I could bear the suspense no longer.
“So where’s Michelle?†I demanded.
My brother did not answer, but strolled out of the kitchenette, beckoning for me to follow. The bedroom door was open, and there she was, prone on the bed. She was lying on her stomach, half-wearing a frilly negligée, the top pulled down to her waist, the hemline drawn up over the bare flesh of her bottom. Her hands were bound behind her back with what looked like a couple of brassieres joined together, and her ankles were trussed with pantyhose. Her feet were secured to the end of the bed with another pair of tights. She was turned towards me. Her faced was flushed and she was panting heavily through a bulbous ball-gag. She looked up at me with doleful eyes, slowly blinked and grunted a terse greeting.
Alex casually sat on the edge of the bed and released the nylon tether. I assumed he was going to untie her, and so did she; but instead he placed one hand on the rear of her knees, and with the other grabbed her ankles and bent her legs until her heels touched her backside. She rasped an ineffectual protest, then moaned softly as he used the pantyhose to put her into a full hog-tie. She continued to twitch and make whimpering noises through her gag, so he gently kissed and caressed the top of her head. He ran his fingers through her hair, moist and stringy from perspiration. He tenderly brushed away the little beads of sweat which had gathered on her forehead and cheeks, and dabbed off the tiny bubbles that dribbled from the corners of her mouth, around the edges of the ball. It all seemed so un-Alex-like gallant, until I saw what he was using – crumpled up pink lace panties which matched her dishevelled nightie.
My brother stood up, admiring his handiwork as his girlfriend, looking so helpless and so incredibly sexy, squirmed in her bonds, before he turned to me with a malevolent grin.
“How about that breakfast?†he said.
So that is how I discovered how well I had taught my sibling protégé. I felt so proud.
Michelle was still trussed and gagged when I left, and it wasn’t till few weeks later that I found out her history. Since then, she and Alex have been an integral part of my TUGs clique. Of course, he’s still my baby brother, so we have avoided the more intense games that I play with others, in particular...
Jack and Sabrina
Jack was my second serious boyfriend (I am now on my third and presumably last). Although I had been playing tie-up games for many years BJ – before Jack, that is – it was he who moved me to the next level. I have described him often enough that he needs no introduction to those familiar with my escapades. For the rest, I shall briefly revisit what I have written before. Jack is the archetypal man’s man but also a real woman’s man. He’s a no-nonsense, take-charge sort of guy, strong enough to be tender, secure enough to not take himself too seriously, confident enough to always be in control yet able to give as easily and as readily as he takes. His lady love Sabrina complements him perfectly. A successful architect, she is several years his elder, a tall, striking brunette with a vibrant personality, a dazzling smile, sparkling eyes and a sharp intellect framed within a perfect body. She’s the sort of woman who would veer away from a character like Jack if she encountered him casually at a party, but she had the perception to see through his rough-hewn veneer.
They make an interesting couple. Although she is, in her professional life, an assertive, independent woman, who owns the house they live in and is the principal breadwinner, Sabrina enjoys what I call an inverse power dynamic – a strong, self-reliant female who submits willingly and joyfully to her man.
As with Alex and Michelle, it was I who brought Jack and Sabrina together. I am quite the matchmaker, it seems. It’s a long story but worth the telling.
I met Jack through my then roommate, and he tied me up for the first time on our second date. Back then – this was nearly five years ago – I was not so circumspect about my bondage games, although I was always careful to disguise my public activities within the wrappings of a mainstream lifestyle. Nevertheless, I was developing a reputation as Little Miss Kinky, which is why in fact my roomie had put me on to Jack, since he had a similar repute, though somewhat more dissolute... some would say degenerate.
Our tempestuous relationship lasted just over a year, and around the time that we were beginning to go our separate ways, I was a member of a group at university which I will call the Women’s Adventure Club. That’s not the true name, but it conveys the right flavour. It’s a group of likeminded gals who get together once a month for an “extreme†adventure. Our exploits weren’t really that wild, though more for want of opportunity than daring. For example, I had done some parachuting and that was how I originally got to join. We were mainly about doing crazy things, but we were also involved in feminist politics on campus. In fact, to be honest I think it was as much our raison d’être as anything else to prove that we had balls as big as any man’s... at least metaphorically.
So when it came my turn to nominate a suitably “out there†adventure, I had just the thing. The previous month’s theme had been “extreme cuisine†(don’t ask!), and in the wake of that particular occasion my suggestion received a more positive reception that it might have otherwise. I proposed a night of bondage games. I won’t go into too much detail here (I may in another posting sometime). There were about a dozen of us (an average attendance... two more than the bugs ʼn’ slugs evening) and several of us brought along boyfriends. (There were also some girlfriends, but these were already members.) As it turned out, Jack and I were the only pairing with any sort of genuine TUGs experience, and so it was not surprising that it became a night of guys tying up girls, guided by Jack as ropemaster-in-chief and me as demonstration model. Guy-on-girl has always been my preference, of course, but in this case it was easy to rationalize. The mission statement of the WAC is that as members you are supposed to experience the unfamiliar, explore your outer limits and go beyond your comfort zone. That meant being on the receiving end of the ropes.
A fun time was had by all, but the males, who had two damsels each on whom to carry out their dastardly deeds, for that reason probably had the best of it. However, if we’d had more time we might have done a switch, and some of the girls were disappointed by that. (I mention this because it has some relevance to the Long Long Weekend. Yes, I am getting to it.)
Sabrina was not present that night. She was a former member of the WAC but had finished uni. Nevertheless, she’d heard about our TUGs night and she sought me out for an interrogation. Since Jack and I were then in the process of amicably splitting up, she was available and clearly shared his interest in bondage. I therefore got her and him together. The chemistry worked immediately.
And this is where the first two parts of my story converge on the third.
Rob and Sarah
Jack and I ended our relationship on good terms. He and Sabrina remain my closest friends, and we have regular get-togethers for bondage fun. Rob (my now boyfriend) was totally new to the genre and at first very skeptical about our games, indeed rather uptight. As you can imagine, it can be frustrating trying to show a newbie the ropes when you are the one who is to be tied up. But while he has never truly understood the appeal, he has always been a sweetheart about indulging my passions, and he is a fast learner. Of course, I have my means of making him happy in return, so it’s a good arrangement.
At first I was understandably shy about revealing the kinky side of my nature. Our third serious date was his birthday, and we were in a restaurant when I gave him his present. After he’d opened it, I dropped the ribbon onto the table and reached across the table, placing my palms together. I said something embarrassingly corny about having me gift-wrapped. After some further coaxing, he bound my wrists, feeling very self-conscious doing it in public; but none of the other patrons appeared to notice and our waitress just smiled. And having broken the ice, I was thereafter able to lead him all the way into my weird and wonderful world.
He adapted quickly; and not long after the episode with Michelle in her flat, the six of us – Jack and Sabrina, Alex and Michelle, Rob and myself – were celebrating some anniversary with an intimate TUGs party. It happened to be football finals season, and as we all know, it is written into the male genetic code that the choice between playtime with half-naked bound girlfriends and sport on the TV is no choice at all. At first the guys put us hogtied and gagged at their feet on the living room floor; but our wriggling and grunting was too much of a distraction. It was their fault for callously blindfolding us as well, so we couldn’t partake in the visual delight of two dozen men in tight shorts playing with one ball. Thus they moved us to the bedroom. As a safety precaution they removed our gags but left us trussed up and blindfolded, prostrate side by side on the bed. At least we got to talk for two or three hours. It was actually rather nice. Girl talk is not all that different when you’re helpless and immobile, bound hand and foot.
That’s when Michelle enlightened us about her prior tie-up adventures. Like me, she had started early, with her two brothers, though unlike me she didn’t always play the damsel in distress. In fact, she enjoys the switch; but since Alex is strictly one-way in this respect, she is happy to remain the submissive. So the point I’m making is that it’s rather funny that I was able to introduce both Jack and Alex to their current girlfriends (who are also, incidentally, both older than their guys, though I doubt there’s much significance in that) before I knew very much of their penchants and proclivities. I must have some kind of kink radar.
During the halftime interval, the males came in and took away Sabrina. When they’d gone, Michelle engaged in some fearful whispered speculation about what was happening out there, until I explained – between giggles – that they were making her fix them snacks for the second half. Sure enough, she was returned to us intact when the game resumed. Still, it was cruel of the guys to give poor Michelle a panic attack like that. I guess it was their way of initiating her into our kinky crew. Now she was one of us.
Andrea and Karen
The final member of our original roster for the Long Long Weekend was Andrea. She’s another uni student. We met at one of Jack and Sabrina’s soirées. I have described her before, russet-haired and dark-eyed, a no-frills, plain-speaking, down-to-earth gal. I had been rather surprised at her interest in TUGs. That she should be is an eloquent tribute to their subversive allure. On the other hand, I wasn’t shocked to discover that, like Michelle, she enjoys being on either end of the ropes. In fact, she tied me up once, and though she has some nice moves, it was by no means one of my gentler experiences.
Andrea’s on-off boyfriend is Luke. As with Alex and Michelle, from my humble perspective they make a discordant couple. For the sake of discretion I won’t go into specifics, except that he’s rather arrogant and I find him distastefully sexist. But he and Andrea have an antagonistic relationship that seems to work well. I get the impression that they take out their frustrations with each other on each other during their tie-up sessions. I certainly wouldn’t want to get between them when the ropes start flying.
Luke has a cousin named Karen who is exactly his age – they were born just a few hours apart. She is what might be called an attractive ugly duckling. She’s small but athletic, tomboyish but pretty, with shaggy, close-cropped, sandy blonde hair, the sartorial style of a street urchin, a somewhat aloof manner and an intimidating way of staring at you even when she’s being friendly. The first time we met I disliked her; the second time I loved her. She has that type of personality.
Karen became the unexpected eighth member of our party.