## Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Sat Apr 10, 2010 12:25 am

Hey Everybody
Been a while since I posted anything, and since I don't have any real stories to share (Sad isn't it?) I've concocted another fictional one. It's basically me fantasizing about a friend of mine and I've tried to re-create her personality as accurately as I can, to make this scenario somewhat plausible.
Please keep in mind, I prefer to post stories in a few big chunks rather than lots of little ones, thus it is quite long. Sorry, I'm just kinda verbose.
Hope you like it.
Gillian's Little Secret
Over the past couple of years as I've gone to college I've made a lot of new friends. While I love them all, only a few stand out like Gillian. In many ways she became the big sister I never had. Being a few years older than me, she had a lot of life experience to share, and a knack for practical wisdom that gave her a knowledge of what to do in pretty much any situation. She's proudly of Irish heritage and has long red hair that compliments brown eyes, a slim yet solid physique and a pair of smart glasses. But perhaps what drew me to her more than anything else was our similar world view and values. Though what I didn't know, was we shared something else...
It all began one day as we strolled along a forested path in the park. Weâ€™d gone for coffee many times before, and early in the summer weâ€™d talked about walking this trail, but an injury prevented me from going through with it. So in late August as the summer drew to a close, we decided to do our walk and spend the afternoon talking our lives over.
To make a long story short, our walk took us a lot longer than we expected, and we ended up sitting on a bench, watching as the sun went down over the horizon. It was a beautiful scene.
As we sat, I finally struck up a conversation with her about her boyfriend Trevor. He was a friend of mine that Iâ€™d met in college the previous year, and I had the two of them pegged as a couple before anybody else did, and way before they themselves did. Thus I was kind of curious as to how their relationship was progressing.
We talked about it for a while, until something caught my attention. She was telling me about what they did the last time he was in town (He lived elsewhere) and after saying a few things that theyâ€™d done at her place, she stopped and chuckled.
â€œWhat?â€ I asked her.
â€œUhhhhâ€¦.â€ She replied
I was confused, she was usually so mature.
â€œI spent most of the timeâ€¦â€ She started, then stopped.
I waited for a minute.
â€œYou werenâ€™tâ€¦ on your backâ€¦ right?â€
â€œNo! No, of course not.â€
â€œThen what?â€
Again, silence.
â€œYou can tell me.â€
I could see she wanted to.
â€œI spent most of the nightâ€¦ hogtied on the couch.â€ She said finally.
I was totally stunned by what sheâ€™d said. Iâ€™d always wanted to be tied up, and had been searching for a potential partner in it. I would have never pegged her for it in a million years. While at the same time I was completely stunned by Trevorâ€™s audacity, he was a pretty meek guy.
â€œDoes this freak you out?â€ She asked.
I kept my composure.
â€œNo.â€ I replied.
â€œYouâ€™re lying, you think Iâ€™m a freak.â€ She said, laughing.
â€œYou do this often?â€
â€œNot really, I had a friend who I used to do this kind of stuff with when I was littler, but she moved away. So it was only rarely after that, till Trevor
came along. And it was HIS idea!â€
I chuckled.
â€œWow, Iâ€™m impressed.â€ I said.
â€œYeah. Though itâ€™s weird, even though heâ€™s my boyfriend, I still donâ€™t really feel like itâ€™s a sexual thingâ€¦ It feels the same as it did with my friend Kari. I just like being tied upâ€¦ I guess that makes no sense.â€
I stayed silent for a moment.
â€œNo, it makes perfect sense.â€
Her eyes went wide.
â€œYou?!?â€
â€œYeah.â€ I replied.
I spent the next few minutes giving her the low down on my love for bondage. It was an incredible release, given that Iâ€™d never been able to explain it to anyone face to face before.
When I was done she nodded for a few seconds. I was a bit nervous, I knew that I needed to at least ask her if she was willing to indulge my little quirk, but even though she knew I had trouble working up the courage.
â€œYou want to give it a try?â€ She asked me.
â€œHell yes!â€ I said all too quickly.
She could tell I was relieved.
We spent the next half hour discussing how we would go about it, and we decided that since she lived on her own, her place would be the best choice. I would bring all the supplies I had, she would do likewise, and we would take turns tying and being tied.
I was looking forward to both, though being tied more so.
By this point I knew my work schedule fairly well, and we set a date for an upcoming Monday. I would work until three that afternoon, we would meet at her place at five, and we could both sleep in the next morning, so we could go as late as we needed to.
After discussing a few safety issues, limits, and general trust issues, we started back home, and about an hour later, parted company.
The four days I had to wait, could not have passed slower. I spent the entire time dreaming about the game I had ahead of me. Finallyâ€¦ after so long, so much waiting, so much pining, I was finally going to experience it.
The Monday finally arrived, and everyone at work remarked at one point or another that I was much giddier than usual. I just told them Iâ€™d had too much caffeine and they believed it. This was a situation where Occams razor simply did not apply.
I left work as soon as I could, ran home, showered, ate something, and started gathering my supplies into my backpack. I acquired a new large role of duct tape just for this occasion, and I brought that, as well as the various ropes I kept in the bottom drawer of my dresser.
Four forty finally arrived, and I took the directions to her place Iâ€™d printed and hopped in my car. The trip took fifteen minutes. Though knowing itâ€™s ruder to be early than late, I waited the extra five in my car before heading in.
I walked to her door and knocked.
She answered it with a smile and welcomed me in. After a bit of a tour, we sat down in the living room area and talked for a little bit. I wasnâ€™t trying to press her into starting, but she could tell that I wanted to stop talking and get strait to it.
â€œSoâ€¦ whoâ€™s going first?â€ She asked finally.
â€œI dunno, do you want to?â€
â€œI donâ€™t care.â€
After a bit of passive debating, we decided to â€œRock, Paper, Scissorsâ€ for it, with the winner being tied first. My rock beat her scissors.
Excitedly, I ran to the door and retrieved my backpack. I brought it back and unloaded its contents onto the kitchen counter. At the same time Gillian walked to her bedroom and brought her own to add to the pile.
We ended up with three roles of duct tape, a very large stack of rope, several silk scarves and one pair of handcuffs.
â€œYou ready?â€ She asked me.
I nodded.
She pulled a high backed arm chair out from the kitchen table and slid it next to me.
â€œThen sit down.â€ She ordered.
I did as I was told, and sat down in the chair, instinctively putting my arms up onto the arm rests.
With a smirk on her face, Gillian began her work. She apparently wanted to make sure I couldnâ€™t possibly escape my first true bondage experience.
She started with my wrists, wrapping several layers of rope around both of them, and curiously cinching the tie between my wrists and the chair arms. Which further tightened the tie. Next she moved up to my upper arms, tying my arms to the chair just below the elbows in the same fashion as my wrists.
With my arms thoroughly immobilized, she moved to my legs, tying each ankle to one of the chair legs separately. This felt a little strange, I hadnâ€™t expected how far apart this would pull my legs. Fortunately I was wearing a pair of fairly tight jeans, which hid my excitement reasonably well.
Moving on, Gillian tied two ropes around my chest. One very long one that she started looping around me and the chair at my waist, which she wound around until it reached my stomach. (Six times I think). Next she took a shorter rope and tied it around the top of my torso just beneath the neck and wrapped it around, under my arms.
She disappeared behind me, apparently grabbing something from the counter.
â€œOpen up!â€ She said.
I did, and she threw in a smallish white piece of cloth. (I think it was something like an ankle sock) Without being told I closed my mouth around it and prepared for the inevitable tape that was to follow it. (Iâ€™d mentioned to her that tape gags were my favorite, I guess she took that to heart.)
I wasnâ€™t disappointed, in a moment I heard a piece of tape being pulled off the role. But what I didnâ€™t expect was that the tape wasnâ€™t taken off the role. She slammed the piece over my waiting lips and began to wrap the tape around my head. After going around eight or so times she finally ripped the role off, and stuck the loose end down.
As one finishing touch, she grabbed one of the silk scarves and pulled it around my eyes as a blindfold.
â€œHave fun with that sweetie!â€ She announced as she leaned over and kissed the side of my head.
And with that, she was gone.
I began to pull against my bonds as hard as I could. I would have called it wild struggling if I could have moved at all. But I could hardly move any muscle more than a couple of millimeters.
Gillian was good at this. Sheâ€™d tied me tight enough that I could feel the weight of the ropes pulling against me, but not so tight that they were painful, or cut off circulation.
I have no idea how long it was, but I spent my first spell in my dark and motionless world, studying my bonds, or at least the feeling of them. After a while I just sat back and relaxed. Simply enjoying the glow of my bondage.
I wasnâ€™t sure what Gillian was doing while I was tied. It was a lot of fun to try and figure out where she was and what she was doing only by sound. I could usually sort of pick out her location and make a guess as to what she was doing there. She did some dishes in the kitchen, went to her room for something, came back and (I think) watched me for a little while, then she went and retrieved something from down the hall before sitting on one of the couches, (so I guessed it was a book).
I had no idea how much time had gone by, it felt like I had slept, but I wasnâ€™t sure. After what felt like hours, Gillian came over to me.
â€œSo you ready to be untied?â€
I shook my head â€œNo!â€
â€œI didnâ€™t think you would.â€
She walked back towards the couch, and I heard her crash on it again. I decided to check and see if any of the ropes had loosened over the hour Iâ€™d been bound. But my search was in vain, there was no slack to be found.
Though I hadnâ€™t been sitting there for very long before I heard her footsteps approaching me again. I probably should agree to be untied so I could return the favor to her. Sheâ€™d told me in the park that sheâ€™s happier being tied than doing the tying. Which I found slightly strange considering her personality was so forceful, and quite masculine in a way.
â€œIâ€™m curious do you have Andrewâ€™s weakness?â€ (A mutual friend of ours from school)
â€œHmmph?â€ I replied, best as I could.
The outstretched fingers of her left hand dug into my side and began a barrage of tickling. What she expected to happen was that I would start squirming and mmmmphing in protest. But I knew something she didnâ€™t know: Iâ€™m not ticklish! At all.
â€œOh, you donâ€™t?â€ She exclaimed.
I shook my head and tried to say â€œSorry.â€ Though it came out â€œHmmph-mmmphâ€
Not being satisfied with that, she attacked my right side with her outstretched nails more vigorously, to check if I was lying I suppose. I didnâ€™t flinch. She was frustrated.
I nodded my head slowly in approval. After making a few more mmphing sounds, she pulled off my blindfold and asked:
â€œUntie now?â€
I nodded.
She bent down and started with my ankles, it was somewhat reassuring to be able to pull my legs together again. Not long after sheâ€™d undone the ropes around my chest and finally my arms, leaving the rope lying on the floor. Gratefully I stood up.
Even though being tied for an hour is a comparatively short time, I was still pretty stiff. I spent a minute rubbing my red and welted wrists. Now it was time to get all this duct tape off my face. Gillian was kind of enough to get me a pair of scissors from the kitchen and I set to work on the painful process of cutting and ripping the band of tape off my face.
â€œThere!â€ I yelled, as I could finally breath through my mouth again.
Gillian smiled.
â€œSo, was it all you hoped for?â€
â€œTotally!â€
â€œOk good, cause now you have to do it to me!.
â€œRight. Now, how to go about doing that?â€ I asked myself outloud.
I sat down on the edge of the couch nearby and considered my options. I had lots of rope, my handcuffs, silk scarves, and practically an unlimited supply of duct tape. The possibilities were endless. The first thing I wanted to try was a suspended tie. But as I searched the ceiling for something to hook a rope to, it became quickly apparent that there wasnâ€™t. Plan B. Hogtie? Maybe, but then again Trevor had already put her in one. Well there was always the chairâ€¦
Then it occurred to me, I could do both. Bingo!
â€œAlright, sit down.â€ I commanded her, in a strong voice.
She seemed a little startled.
Gillian is the type of person who naturally takes control of a situation, giving her an aura of experience and confidence. I wouldnâ€™t call myself a meek person, quite the opposite in fact, but when I was with Gillian I was usually quite content to allow her take charge. For example, whenever we would meet for coffee, she would decide when and where, and if I couldnâ€™t think of what to buy, she would often decide for me. I guess that gave her the impression I was meeker than I actually was. And whenever I would take over and start dictating decisions like she did, she would always react with shock and silently go along with it. Once again, she reacted in the exact same way.
Without speaking she sat down and put her hands on her lap. Awaiting the devious scheme that was brewing in my mind. I had no intention of disappointing her. My first move was to take the scarf sheâ€™d used to blindfold me and put it to the same use on her. It would probably excite her to not know what was coming.
â€œHands, through the back!â€ I said.
Once again, without speaking, she pulled her hands through the decorative spaces in the chairâ€™s back. Taking a piece of rope from the floor, I set to work binding her hands. Nothing special, wrapped it around her wrists horizontally six or seven times before cinching the tie vertically several more times. With much of the rope remaining, I decided to reinforce the tie by wrapping it around in a figure eight pattern above the vertical tie and cinching it over again. With that done I knotted it off.
â€œNow, Iâ€™m not too confident in my knot tying ability. And Iâ€™m sure you know a thing or two about escaping. Soâ€¦â€
I took the role of duct tape from the counter and pulled off a long piece, which I wrapped around her fingers on her right hand.
â€œYou sneaky bastard!â€ Gillian exclaimed.
â€œI know right?â€ I replied.
I added a few more layers of tape, sticking her thumb to the rest of her fingers, then repeated the process on her left hand. That being done, I grabbed the second piece of rope and took hold of her elbows. I tied one end of the rope to her left elbow and started wrapping it around the other. After Iâ€™d gone around a few times I gently started pulling and her elbows her together.
â€œLet me know if it starts to hurt.â€ I said.
I was amazed, I pulled, and I pulled, and they came right together. I had no idea she was that flexible, the thought of her doing the same thing to me made me wince.
â€œYour flexible.â€ I remarked.
â€œOh yeah!â€ She replied proudly.
Taking the loose end of the rope I cinched the tie vertically several times before knotting it off again. I took the next piece of rope and moved around to her feet. Though I couldnâ€™t help but notice that tying her elbows together had thrust her chest out somewhat. Wasnâ€™t at all unpleasant to look at!... Anywayâ€¦ Her feet were my next target. Though quite simple to tie, all I had to do was time them identically to the way Iâ€™d tied her hands. I made a note to take off her socks. Just in case I decided I wanted to tickle those beautiful feet. But tickling wasnâ€™t the torture I had in mind.
Taking the shortest of the ropes, I tied one end around the rope binding her feet and threw it out behind the chair.
â€œWhat are you up to?â€ She demanded.
â€œYouâ€™ll see, youâ€™ll see.â€ As I said as I re-assuringly patted her shoulder. â€œOh, wait, no you wonâ€™t.â€
â€œVery funny.â€
Taking the loose end of the rope I pulled it back towards me until her feet had been totally lifted off the floor and her soles were facing me. As she had no doubt suspected I took the slack and wrapped it around her wrist tie, putting her into a chair hogtie. Kneeling down, I wrapped the rope around her ankles and feet several times before knotting it off down at her feet again.
Finally I tied the last piece of rope around her waist near the base of the chair. Canâ€™t be too safe!
â€œI donâ€™t think youâ€™ll be getting out of that anytime soon.â€ I declared.
â€œI might not. Iâ€™m impressed, not bad for a first timer.â€
â€œThank you.â€
â€œThoughâ€¦ Arenâ€™t you forgetting something?â€
â€œNo. I wasnâ€™t planning on gagging you unless I had to. â€œ
â€œWell thatâ€™s no fun.â€
â€œOh but I wanted to get your opinion on some things.â€
â€œLike what?â€
â€œGive me a minute.â€
I left my bound friend and ran back to the front hall where Iâ€™d left my backpack. What Gillian didnâ€™t know was Iâ€™d hidden my camera in it. Returning to the kitchen I began snapping photos to my hearts content. Though it took four or five pictures for Gill to recognize the tell tale beeping.
â€œYouâ€™re not taking pictures of me?!?â€ She demanded.
â€œYes, thatâ€™s exactly what Iâ€™m doing!â€
She shook the chair as she tried to lunge forward, stopped by her numerous and ultimately redundant bindings.
â€œYou delete those!â€
I simply chuckled and took several more pictures before sitting back down on the couch.
â€œNow, I also happened to have brought my laptop, and my firewire. So really I could send these pictures to whoever I want.â€
â€œYou wouldnâ€™t dare!â€
â€œNow, Iâ€™d be slightly afraid of Trevorâ€™s retribution when he gets back. So I shouldnâ€™t send them to him. But I wonder if Andrew would like to see them? Maybe give him and his girlfriend some ideas.â€
â€œYouâ€¦ suck!â€
I continued to list off names of potential recipients of the pictures and Gillian objected strongly to each one. Until she finally said:
â€œYou better not or Iâ€™m going to kick your ass!â€
â€œAnd how do you plan on doing that exactly? In case you havenâ€™t noticed, youâ€™re tied up. And tied up quite well as a matter of fact.â€
She launched into a tirade of furious cursing and threatening.
â€œYou know what, I think Iâ€™ve heard enough from you.â€ I decided finally.
â€œIâ€™m serious you better delete those pictures, right now, or I swear Iâ€™ll MMMMMPH!â€
I slammed a piece of tape over her lips mid sentence. Truth is, I just made her angry so I could do that. Iâ€™d always wanted to gag someone angry mid sentence.
More to come. Please leave a comment!
Last edited by dreadnaught3200 on Sun Apr 11, 2010 10:19 pm, edited 1 time in total.
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Gillian's little secret

Post by Plueschbabycd » Sat Apr 10, 2010 2:14 am

Very good first part. I hop the girls get blindfolded by next time.
Andrew
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show

### Re: Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Sun Apr 11, 2010 10:21 pm

I couldnâ€™t see her eyes from behind the scarf, but I could tell she was staring daggers at me from behind it. Oh well. I cut off five more pieces of tape, each successively longer than the last and stuck them over her mouth, and just for good measure I took another of her scarves and tied it around her head over the tape.
Taking a step back, I snapped a couple more pictures and quietly walked back to my backpack, where I switched the memory cards. She need never find those picturesâ€¦
I then decided to move on to my next torture, by far my most devious. Iâ€™d gotten the impression when we had first talked about it, that since Gillian was quite experienced with bondage, she would probably get quite bored if Iâ€™d just tied her up and left her there. On the other hand, she had a boyfriend, and was my good friend and I didnâ€™t want to abuse that trust. As such, I wasnâ€™t sure what physical limits I could push. So, instead, I decided to mess with her mind.
Retrieving a CD Iâ€™d specially burned for the occasion from my backpack, I found my way over to the boombox she kept in the kitchen.
â€œI was just messing with ya, I deleted the pictures.â€ I announced.
A somewhat sarcastic sounding â€œHmmphâ€. Was the reply.
â€œYou can check my camera when I untie youâ€¦. Anyway, in the meantime I thought Iâ€™d put on some music. You know, something we can both enjoy.â€
Now, I should probably explain: Gillian was one of the most talented musicians I met when I joined the department. A gifted guitarist, singer and songwriter. She wrote folk to be exact. So when I turned on the stereo and â€œHammer Smashed Faceâ€ by Cannibal Corpse started pouring out at high volume, and her aversion to Heavy Metal of all kinds flared upâ€¦ Well, letâ€™s say Iâ€™ve never seen anyone squirm that much!
â€œMMMMMMMMMPH!!!!â€ She screamed.
â€œOh what you want me to turn it up? Ok!â€ I replied.
Again with the â€œI felt the daggers she was staring at me.â€
I wasnâ€™t sure how long I was going to leave it on, I mean I couldnâ€™t possibly subject her to the whole four minutes of the song? Could I? Then again, watching her squirm and struggle desperately to get away from the musical hell I was inflicting on her was just so entertaining.
Alright I admit it, I let the whole song play. Though it did weigh into my thinking that she was going to tie me up again when I released her, and when she did, she would find a way to take her revenge. It wasnâ€™t going to be pleasant. Iâ€™m sure she was already brooding about what she was going to do to me. Still I figured, â€œWhat the hell?â€
When Cannibal Corpse had finished, I could see her bracing for the next sonic assault on the CD. Though she was surprised to hear a nice quiet Jack Johnson tune. I left it on for a minute, just so sheâ€™d start feeling comfortable again. Then, it abruptly changed into â€œWar Ensembleâ€ by Slayer.
I tormented her with music for the next ten minutes or so. Interspersing periods of uncompromising thrash and death metal with little breaks of folk or pop music. It was easy to tell I was driving her nuts, and making her payback a little bit worse every time.
Finally, we got to the end of my CD and I switched off the player. Just to keep her a bit on edge I decided not to tell her I was finished. I just let her sit there and fear the next sonic assault while I treated myself to a tour of the apartment. It wasnâ€™t too big, her bedroom, a guest bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen connected to a sitting room. Though as I looked around her room I couldnâ€™t help but notice what looked like a diary on her dresser. I never knew she kept oneâ€¦ â€œThis could be usefulâ€ I said to myself.
I headed back down to the sitting room and lay down on the couch. I noticed Gillianâ€™s head turning to face me as I walked by, apparently she was listening to my footsteps like Iâ€™d listened to hers, trying to figure out what I was up to. Though she was disappointed, I just lay down on the couch and shut my eyes for a while. By the time I woke up, Gillian had been bound for an hour and a half, now it was only fair that I untied her. It was time to pay the piper.
I walked up to her and silently began my work. First on my list was undoing the hogtie, she gratefully lowered her feet to the floor. Then I carefully pulled the layers of tape from her fingers, and then finally untied all the ropes binding her to the chair. Once her arms were free she pulled off the blindfold and ripper off the tape gag. The first words out of her mouth were:
â€œYou are so going to regret that!â€
â€œI know, but it was worth it.â€
She immediately stood up and walked over to the sitting room table where Iâ€™d left my camera in plain view. After checking it, she saw there were no pictures of her in her bound state.
â€œSo you did erase themâ€¦ Good.â€ She growled.
I didnâ€™t tell her about the second memory card. She, to this day, remains oblivious about the existence of the pictures.
At that point I was mentally preparing myself for the tortures that no doubt awaited me. But unfortunately my nemesis decided to bide her time, and went to the fridge to retrieve a couple of coke zeros. Moreover I was surprised when she actually gave one to me, with an almost gracious look on her face. She was up to something.
She took some time and cleaned up the ropes and scarves from the floor and put them back on the table and came over and sat next to me. She started telling me about the last gig sheâ€™d played, and I became more and more at ease. Had I been observant I wouldâ€™ve noticed that my handcuffs had disappeared from the table. But I wasnâ€™t. A few minutes later as I was putting my half drunk coke down on the table, she took me by surprise, seizing my arms. Not long after they felt the cold touch of steel rings as they locked around my wrists.
â€œAlright. Now. Up!â€ She commanded.
I was in no position to argue and stood. She pushed me forward, out of the sitting room and down the hall and into her bedroom.
â€œAlright, Iâ€™m going to take these off for a second, you, take off your shirt.â€
â€œWhat?â€
â€œYou heard me.â€
When weâ€™d been talking about limits a few days before I hadnâ€™t specified that my shirt had to be kept on, whereas she did. It was only now I realized this, and considering the rule was, when it was the other personâ€™s turn to tie, you had to obey them, I took off my shirt.
â€œAlright, down on the bed.â€
I put my head on her pillow and laid down. Gillianâ€™s bed was a queen size, and built on a metal frame. The identical head and foot boards were the type where the legs of the bed rose for a few inches and then turned and arced over the bed, with smaller steel support struts spaced every few inches. Gillian took my hands and pulled them through the headboard on either side of the centre support bar, and put the handcuffs back on.
She disappeared for a moment as she ran back to the kitchen. She came back with all the supplies, rope, tape and scarves. First she took a leaf out of my book and used one of the scarves and blindfolded me before she started tying. I lost any sense of what was coming, though I was pretty sure what she was going to do. She didnâ€™t disappoint. Next thing I knew sheâ€™d tightly tied my ankles to opposite ends of the footboard, pulling them right apart.
Once again I was totally at her mercy, and this time, she was out for revenge.
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by Boundgal08 » Mon Apr 12, 2010 3:00 am

Yes this is a good story, I enjoyed reading it.
Cheers,
BG
BOUNDGIRL!
Probably the kinkiest woman you will ever meet!
I am a switch, I like to put a man in ropes and also have a man put me in ropes!
I am the 'Queen of bondage'

### Re: Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by dreadnaught3200 » Tue Apr 20, 2010 11:03 pm

Ok this is the final part:
The world went silent for a second. I wasnâ€™t sure if Gillian was plotting or what she was doing. I used the lull to test my bindings. They were solid. Sheâ€™d pulled my legs close enough to either ends of the headboard the rope was completely taut, giving very little slack for my legs. Moreover with my arms stretched over my head and locked in place with handcuffs, I knew that escape was impossible. And while in truth I was no less vulnerable then, than I was when I was tied to the chair. But with my limbs stretched out, I felt much more vulnerable. I knew I trusted Gillian, she wouldnâ€™t do anything to physically hurt me. But that offered little comfort to my situation.
I started licking my lips, awaiting the inevitable gag that was surely to come. But after what felt like a couple of minutes, the gag did not appear.
â€œIâ€™m still deciding.â€ Gillian said. I guess she figured out why I was licking my lips. â€œWhat do I want more, to shut you up, or to hear you beg?â€
â€œAnd how do you plan on doing that?â€ I asked her.
â€œYou donâ€™t think Iâ€™m going to give away the surprise do you?â€
â€œMaybe, worth a try wasnâ€™t it?â€
â€œI suppose.â€
All of a sudden I felt a wad of cloth being shoved into my mouth. Once it was in, Gillian covered it with her hand as she retrieved the role of tape. She ripped off a piece and stuck it over my lips. That piece was followed by six or seven more. I couldnâ€™t see but it felt like the entire lower half of my face was covered with duct tape.
â€œAlright, first thing. I know your ticklish and your just lying. This time Iâ€™m going to try a bit harder.â€ She announced.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I wasnâ€™t ticklish, she could try all she wanted, and wellâ€¦ She did. Her first tactic was to use both her hands at the same time and go for my sides and the underside of my outstretched arms. She had no success. After a few minutes of desperately trying to tickle me into submission, she switched weapons. Abandoning her finger tips, she switched to some kind of feather. Again this had no effect.
Finally with an exasperated gasp, she gave up. First bullet dodged.
Though I was in for a nasty shock, with the tickling failed, Gillianâ€™s methods sunk lower into the realm of cruel and unusual. I heard her walk out of the room and into the kitchen. I lost track of her for a minute, though her footsteps returned to the room before long.
The next thing I knew a freezing cold icepack and been placed on my chest.
It was terrible! I started squirming frantically and grunting into my gag. After a moment of struggle I finally threw it off and it crashed onto the carpeted floor. I wasnâ€™t surprised when the pack was put back on my chest, and this time, Gillian sat on it.
Her weight served as a further restriction to my movement, and I couldnâ€™t so much as squirm. I was forced to simply endure the freezing box of hell that she was pressing against me.
It was inevitable that Gillian would feel my desperate yet futile attempts to throw her off, and this only strengthened her resolve.
â€œNow THIS is working!â€ She declared. I could only offer a muffled scream in reply.
How could she do this? This must be against the Geneva convention or something! I pulled and I struggled as furiously as I could. But nothing worked. She kept pressing the icepack into me.
It seemed like hours, in truth it was probably only minutes. Desperately I waited for the icepack to heat up and lose its sting. Though I was aware that since ice packs work by a chemical reaction and not just being frozen, so I wasnâ€™t exactly optimistic.
It went on and on and on. I had no idea how long it had been. Seconds? Years? It made no difference. Finally, she sat up and pulled it off. I breathed a sigh of relief through my nose. I knew I shouldâ€™ve been pissed off, but I was too exhausted to feel much of anything except relief.
â€œNow arenâ€™t you sorry you made me listen to that crap?â€ She demanded.
Meekly I nodded yes. I was lying, it had totally been worth it.
â€œGood. Now Iâ€™m going to finish my drink. Iâ€™ll probably finish yours too. Donâ€™t go anywhere.â€
I lay back and continued to breathe heavily as Gillianâ€™s footsteps disappeared back into the kitchen. I desperately wanted to roll over onto my side, but that wasnâ€™t going to happen for obvious reasons. I had given up struggling at this point, though my arms were starting to cramp up. Maybe it had been because of my struggling, or maybe I Just wasnâ€™t used to being in that position, but this tie was really starting to hurt. Time to get out.
I started mmmphing, trying to get Gillâ€™s attention. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually I heard her coming back to check on me. I kept mmmmphing until I felt her peeling the tape off. After the million layers sheâ€™d put down had been removed, I forcefully spat out of the cloth.
â€œI need out of this one, it hurts.â€ I told her.
â€œAlready?â€
â€œSorry, Iâ€™m still kinda new to this.â€
She didnâ€™t need to be told twice. Weâ€™d agreed, if either person wanted out, they had to be released immediately, and Gillian always stood by promises she made.
She unlocked the handcuffs and I lowered my arms out of the headboard. I had to limply lay them on the bed for a minute, while Gillian finished untying my legs. Once I was free, I stood up and stretched. Having your freedom of movement taken away from you, makes you appreciate it much more when you get it back.
â€œAlright.â€ I said.
â€œAlright.â€ She replied, slightly confused.
â€œKeys please.â€
Silence.
â€œHandcuff keysâ€
â€œWait, yourâ€¦â€
â€œI get to tie you up one more time, thatâ€™s what we agreed.â€
Gillian thought back, she knew I was right and had to submit.
â€œPayback time.â€ I said dryly.
Grudgingly Gillian removed both handcuff keys from her pocket and handed them to me. Sitting back and staring at me with a worried look. After what sheâ€™d done she expected my revenge to be nasty. And she was right, though what I was planning was far from what she expected.
â€œOk, so I thought Iâ€™d take the minimalist route on this one.â€ I announced.
â€œWhat?â€
â€œCould I see your right wrist please?â€
Hesitantly she lifted her arm and I took it in my hand, next I grabbed the handcuffs that lay on the bed. I cuffed one side onto her wrist, and attached the other end to the headboard of the bed. Then I stepped back.
â€œUhm, this is it?â€ She asked.
â€œYes.â€ I replied.
â€œBut this is totally lame!â€
â€œMaybe, but itâ€™ll make it all the more infuriating when I do this:â€
As I spoke I walked over to her dresser and grabbed her diary. It took Gillian a moment to realize what I was holding, and just as Iâ€™d predicted she flew into a frenzy, trying to charge at me and flying backwards when her cuffed wrist stopped her. Regrouping she stood and reached as far as she could away from the bed to take her diary from me. I stood no more than an inch or two away from her outstretched fingers.
Gillian was experiencing what Zeus inflicted on Tantalus, standing in the River Styx but never quite being able to reach the water, or the grapes. Only in this case, Gillian was no more than an inch away from stopping me reading her diary. So close, yet so far.
Needless to say, once again there was a stream of profanity, such that it shouldnâ€™t be repeated in civilized conversation.
I started flipping through the many pages. Going front to back, not for any real reason except to infuriate Gillian as much as I could. After a moment she ran back over to the headboard and started desperately pulling and struggling against the handcuffed locked to it. Seeing an opportunity, I picked a random page and started reading out loud.
Again she charged at me without thinking and once again ended up on the floor.
â€œThis is too much fun.â€ I said.
â€œPUT MY DIARY DOWN!!!!!!â€
I decided at this point, it was best to do as she said, and not risk actually making her mad. After all, I wanted to do this again at some point, and I was well on my way to ruin the chances of that.
â€œThank you.â€ She fumed.
I wished I couldâ€™ve taken a picture of the look on her face, so filled with malice yet slightly amused at the same time.
â€œOk, I think thatâ€™s enough minimalismâ€ I said.
â€œGood.â€
â€œNow letâ€™s try the other way.â€
â€œWhat?â€
â€œUhm the opposite of minimalism, would that be maximalism? Is there such a thing?â€
â€œI donâ€™t know.â€
â€œOh well.â€
I pulled the key to the handcuffs out of my pocket and opened both sides of the handcuffs temporarily releasing my friend. Her freedom was short lived, before she even had a chance to rub her wrists I pulled both of her hands behind her back and clicked them into the steel restraint. Next I grabbed one of the many pieces of rope that had been scattered across the floor and dropped to the ground. I made quick work of binding her ankles together in the traditional cinched fashion. Next piece, I pulled Gillianâ€™s arms so they were touching her back, and looped it around her waist and over her arms, after a few revolutions I pulled it tight and knotted it off in front of her. My next target were her knees, which I tied in much the same fashion as her ankles. And for the final touch, I sought out the longest piece of rope left. I told her to lean forward, and she complied with a confused look. I smirked as I pulled the rope under her legs just behind the crook of the knee and over her back beneath her shoulders. Long as the rope was, I was only able to make three or four revolutions before pulling it tight and knotting behind her back. She struggled awkwardly for a minute, but was unable sit up strait and was stuck with her knees pressed into her chest. Some would call it a ball tie.
â€œThis is new to you I suspect.â€ I said.
â€œYeah, wow.â€ She replied.
â€œOh right, I almost forgot!â€
Gillian sighed over the prospect of the inevitable gagging that was to follow. Though I decided I was tired of tape, a cleave would add variety. I pulled off one of Gillianâ€™s socks and stuffed it in her mouth, then I tied one of the scarves around her mouth to hold it in.
I left the room and headed to the kitchen to get a drink and retrieve my laptop. Once I returned, she turned her head to me and started mmphing.
â€œWhat?â€ I asked.
She motioned her head towards her bed and it made sense. I took hold of her feet and helped her swing her legs up onto the bed and pushed her upwards so at least her head was resting on her pillow. Was the least I could do, I canâ€™t imagine ball ties are that comfortable.
I sat down on the floor with my laptop and let Gillian struggle. After twenty minutes, I noticed that the night was getting old and I should probably head home. After what must have seemed like eons for Gillian I released the rope holding her knees to her chest and with a huge sigh of relief she lowered them.
Untying her was quite simple, I undid the rope pining her arms to her back and unlocked the handcuffs. Then she helped with the gag and knees while I undid her ankles, she was free in no time.
With that finished I grudgingly gathered up my ropes, tape and handcuffs and loaded them into my bag.
â€œWeâ€™ll have to do this again.â€ She told me at the door.
â€œYeah, thanks so much. It was everything I hoped for.â€
She gave me a hug and sent me on my way. As I drove home I couldnâ€™t help but smile, I knew she was already planning her revenge.
That's all for this one folks, thanks for reading and please leave a comment.
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

### Re: Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by crazycanadian » Wed Apr 21, 2010 1:21 pm

GREAT story man, really good. Hope you start to write again soon!

### Re: Gillian's little secret F/M - M/F

Post by tugsbd » Wed Apr 21, 2010 4:25 pm

Fun reading!
I love tying and being tied up! Struggling hard but unable to escape. Mouth filling gag. Helpless. Vulnerable.