“Get up! It’s time to go! We’re going to be late.” Sarah barked at Jon as she walked down the hallway. The fact of the matter was that he had been dressed for almost a half hour and had been waiting for her to finish. It was not a point that he would ever assert to her, though. Things ran on HER schedule ALWAYS and he was not about to object!
He had no idea where they were going but he was wearing exactly what she had requested: black dress pants, black dress shoes, a nicely-fitting red shirt and a black silk tie. It was the perfect match to her black pants and jacket and her red silk blouse which showed just a hint of cleavage. Her hair was perfect and her accessories were precisely “enough”. But the topper was at the bottom. He dared a comment.
“Wear those beautiful shoes and I’ll follow you anywhere!” He smiled broadly at her, ecstatic that she had chosen the candy-apple red Enzos. “Really? I think you would follow me even if I was barefoot”, she replied, as a crooked and knowing grin spread across her lips. He blushed deeply because he knew that she was right.
Nonetheless, her outfit was one of his absolute favorites, particularly when it included the Enzos. Or her black platform boots, red laces all up the calves. There were times when he was utterly indecisive when it came to identifying which of her shoes and boots were his favorites. The only one thing was absolutely certain: he was infatuated with her shoe collection. She knew it and she used that information to tease, taunt and manipulate him. He did not object.
“You are missing only one thing”, she said. “Stand up and cross your wrists in front of you.” The rope she held must have been twenty feet long, which seemed excessive, even for her, for the purpose of binding his hands. After she doubled it over upon itself and then had passed the rope around him five times in two different directions before putting one quick knot in the line to keep it from slipping.
“Raise your arms straight over your head. That’s right.” Then she pulled his hands backward so that his elbows bent until his hands were at the back of his neck. The double line led down the middle of his back and to his ass, where it took a decidedly “forward” turn, directly between his legs.
She smiled at him as she reached into his crotch to draw out the rope. When her hand brushed against him it was laughably obvious that this process had turned him on more than a little. Patting his package gently, she commented, “The little boy seems pleased.” And then she tugged the rope upward, forcing his hands downward more and the line into his crack.
One of the two lines passed to the left of his sex and the other was on the right. Just above that are, she gave the one quick braid and then sent the two ropes in opposite directions around his torso just above his butt. After passing behind his back, the cords met again in front where she secured them tightly.
Since there were still almost two feet of line remaining, she decided that the entanglement should terminate in the small of his back, rather than in front. This time, the doubled binding went straight down the middle and split his balls between them. Once the line had been looped over the waist rope at his back, she pulled it until it was snug and closely watched his reaction as she did. As soon as she knew that he would not forget the location of this cordage, she finished off the tie with a flourish.
Picking up her purse and the truck keys, she slipped her fingers under the ropes across his waist and led him to the garage. He struggled somewhat to climb up into it, trussed the way that he was. He huffed and strained, moaning quietly as the ropes between his legs tightened as he worked to climb in. She encouraged him gently.
“Get your ass in there, boy! You can’t come if you don’t go…if you get my drift.”
With some additional squirming and with more than enough discomfort, he finally was in the seat. She reached across him and buckled his seat belt, being sure to dangle her hair near his face so that he could not miss the aroma of it. Her hands pressed in all of the wrong places, pushing all of his buttons which stoked his fire even more.
The door slammed shut after she finished packaging her cargo, then she walked casually to the driver side, got it and pushed the garage door opener.
“I almost forgot. You’ll need to wear these.” Opening the center console, she dug out his special sun glasses, the ones that do not permit the entry of sunlight. They were fashionable wrap-around glasses whose lenses were painted black by the lady herself. He had worn them before and knew that they would function very effectively as a blindfold.
She fired up the engine and pulled out of the garage.
“So where are we going?” he asked innocently.
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Oh, ok. Well, how far away is it?”
“You don’t need to know that either.” She turned and glared at him.
“Ok.”
A moment later he said, “This isn’t very comfortable.”
“You think that I’m worried about your comfort? When I have you tied up, how often is it that I worry about your comfort?”
“Ummm….true….but…” She cut him off.
“You have far too many questions.” After pulling off to the side of the road, she rummaged in her purse for a moment.
“I had a feeling I might need this. Open your mouth.” She had a zip lock bag of green seedless grapes and pulled one out. She pushed it into his cheek and ordered him to close.
“I am going to add some more of these…eight in all. You will keep them between your cheek and your teeth for the rest of our trip. Don’t eat them. Don’t bite them. Don’t drop them. And when I ask for them back, you had BETTER give me back eight UNMARRED grapes. You understand me clearly, don’t you?” He nodded slowly.
The last two grapes were in the very front of his mouth. He had to squeeze his lips together very tightly to hold them in place. The overall effect was precisely what she had intended. He could form not a word without risking the loss of a grape and the Wrath Of The Lady. That is something that he went far out of his way to avoid, although his over-anxious questioning of that night was a failing of which he was to often guilty.
She glanced over at him often along the way just to enjoy the sight of him in this predicament. No doubt his arms were burning and his hands were pulling on the crotch rope. A bead of sweat grew on his forehead and dripped down his neck.
What would he think when he found out that they really were going nowhere, that she was driving around in circles, for all intents and purposes? She chuckled aloud at the thought, then took a right turn down a bumpy dirt road and pressed her platform heel onto the gas a little more heavily.
Her smile grew even wider as she saw him bounce in his seat as the truck’s shocks and springs absorbed the rough road beneath them. Once again she laughed out loud and she thought, “Maybe we’ll just keep driving around a while longer. I wonder where his breaking point is exactly.”
She was so right. He ached. He burned. He was breaking. She would win—whatever it was she wanted she would have.