## Silk and Satin

Post by sarobah » Wed Sep 10, 2008 2:19 am

Apart from one minor Family Ties episode, this is the last of my true stories worth telling. It is also one of my few girl-on-girl experiences. It isnâ€™t about Rachel, with whom I shared many tie-up adventures. Weâ€™ve basically parted ways now. It also isnâ€™t Kate, who got a mention in my very first TUGs tale.
This happened during my second year at university, after Iâ€™d moved out of the apartment I shared with Kate, and into a dormitory, but before the â€œMaydayâ€ episode. At the time I was between boyfriends, which probably explains why it happened.
* * * * *
One of my best friends is a girl I shall call Annie. Like Rachel, my one-time soul-mate, Annie is very much a woman-of-the-world, sophisticated, uninhibited. She is pretty and popular, but also intelligent and funny. We got on well from the time we met; and while at first it was an opposites-attract friendship, we have since become very close. We celebrate good times together, help each other through the bad times. We share our secrets and our fantasies. So one night I introduced her to my world of tie-up games.
It was a Friday evening, in Annieâ€™s apartment. We were both dateless â€“ by choice â€“ lounging on the sofa in our pyjamas, sipping hot cocoa. Annie looked like a playboyâ€™s glamour-girl in her short, sleek, satin chemise, like a lovable ingÃ©nue in her pink fluffy bunny slippers. Sheâ€™s like that, a paragon of paradox. Sheâ€™s cute as a button but she laughs like a loon, and when she does, she flings her head back and her long, wavy tresses flounce across her shoulders in golden cascades. As well as hair to die for, she has legs and a body I would kill for. Yet the amazing thing is that she doesnâ€™t care. Annie is one of the least self-conscious and least self-involved people I know. Thatâ€™s why she was happy to spend a Friday night at home with a friend and a mug of cocoa.
I told her about all the games Iâ€™d played over the years. Her initial reaction was predictable. â€œIâ€™m not into that sort of thing.â€
â€œWhat sort of thing?â€ I asked.
â€œBondage, sweetie.â€
I tried to explain the difference. Tie-up games are for fun. Bondage is for sex.
â€œBut sex is...â€ she started to protest.
â€œMissing the point much?â€ I cut her off. I knew I couldnâ€™t explain it with words. Sometimes you can only teach by showing. So I said to her, â€œDo you trust me?â€
â€œOf course I do, sweetie.â€ (She always calls me that.)
â€œI want to tie you up.â€
She gave me a quizzical look but shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head. Neither of us had to say anything more. She sat and watched me, intrigued but unperturbed, as I went to my bedroom. I returned with a small bundle which I dropped onto the coffee table. I studied her eyes as she examined the little pile of satin ribbons and silk scarves. I saw curiosity, uncertainty and a hint of excitement, as it quickly dawned on her why I owned this collection. She looked up at me with an almost childlike â€œWhat now?â€ expression.
I took up one of the ribbons, and Annie held out her arms. I just smiled and silently gestured with a twirl of my hand. She understood, grinned sheepishly and turned away from me, sitting sideways on the sofa with one foot on the floor, the other folded under her. Hesitantly, she put her hands behind her back. I gently took hold of her wrists and crossed them, then wound the ribbon around four times, decussate-style. It was not very tight, until I tugged hard and Annie gasped in mild alarm. I gave her a few moments to absorb the experience, tensing and stretching and twisting her arms to test the bonds. Then I looped another long strip just above her elbows.
This time she emitted a little â€œOh!â€ sound.
â€œToo much?â€ I asked.
â€œNo, donâ€™t stop,â€ she said. I knew what she was going through. There is the feeling of utter helplessness, as your arms are rendered completely immobile. For a girl, there is also the delightful effect of your shoulders being pulled back and your chest pushed out. Nevertheless, I did not make it too stringent, because she would not be used to the delicious discomfort of a full-strength elbow tie. Instead, I moved onto her feet.
I knelt in front of her, and Annie adjusted her position to face forward. I took off her slippers and placed them to one side. She put her ankles together and I tied them. As with her wrists, she moved her feet to tease the knot, but I had cinched it and she was rather surprised that she couldnâ€™t wriggle free.
I stood up and stepped back, giving her another few moments to savour her bonds.
â€œWhat do you think?â€ I finally asked.
â€œUm, interesting,â€ was all she replied. She was so adorably vulnerable and awkward, such an unfamiliar look for Annie, that I knew I had to complete the job.
â€œDo you want to go on?â€
She licked her upper lip thoughtfully, chewed her lower lip nervously, before simply nodding. I told her to turn on the sofa once more, so I could sit behind her. As I drew the silk scarf over her eyes, she jerked backwards, just a little, but she said nothing as I secured the knot. She moved her head about, as if testing the efficacy of her blindfold. She giggled.
â€œWhatâ€™s wrong?â€ I asked.
â€œNothing, sweetie. Itâ€™s just...â€ Her voice trailed off into that speechless realm where there are sensations and emotions you cannot express because youâ€™ve never felt them before and so never had to put them into words.
I caressed her bare shoulders. Her skin was as cool and smooth and soft as her exquisite chemise. I fondled her luxuriant golden hair and sniffed its delicate fragrance. I felt her shiver, saw her breathing quicken and her breasts heave under the sheer, lucid fabric. She clenched her fists and flexed her arms. She knew what was coming.
As I folded one of the scarves into a wad, I told her that we should have a safe signal. She didnâ€™t need further explanation, and we agreed that crossing the fingers of both hands would suffice. When I was ready to insert the gag, I brushed it lightly across her lips to get her used to its texture. I waited until she was ready, and when she opened her mouth I pushed it in as tenderly as I could, leaving enough for her to clamp her teeth into. That way, only the front part of her mouth was packed with the silk. She was not accustomed to a gag, and it was important to make sure that any choking reflex did not turn into panic.
I wrapped another scarf around her head, over her mouth so she couldnâ€™t work the gag loose and spit it out. She was making muffled, whimpering noises and I checked her fingers. They werenâ€™t crossed. I pushed gently but firmly on her arms. She understood and lay down upon her left side on the couch, facing outwards. She was panting quite rapidly now. Her knees were drawn up almost as far as her chest. Wanting to see the entirety of my work, I grasped her feet and straightened her legs until she was lying at full stretch. She flinched when she felt my hands on her thighs, but I was just pulling at the hem of her dress, which had ridden upwards when she curled up. Although we were alone, I owed her that dignity.
There were other things I could have done to Annie; but I felt that this was enough, at least for her first time. I sat on the floor next to her and stroked her hair again, as she slowly settled into the zone â€“ that dreamy state of both arousal and serenity, in which the whole of your existence shrinks down to your own body. When I am bound and gagged and blindfolded, deprived of all movement in and most perception of the world around me, I feel not helpless but incredibly self-reliant, imprisoned and yet liberated. I wanted to give Annie time to feel it too.
However, I didnâ€™t wait to see her fingers crossed. When finally I released her, there was a mug of fresh cocoa, a soothing hand and reassuring words to bring her back from the zone. She sat in silence for a long time, just looking at me. There were tiny beads of perspiration on her cheeks and forehead. Her hands were fidgety, as if attuning to their recovered freedom. Her knees were pressed together, and she kept smoothing out any creases which shortened her dress by even a fraction. Her lips wrinkled into a timid smile. A long time later, she uttered a single word.
â€œWow.â€

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Post by joeseph » Wed Sep 10, 2008 4:12 am

excellent story, i wish you had afew more like this.

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Post by sarobah » Wed Sep 10, 2008 4:28 am

My creative juices havenâ€™t stopped flowing however. I have a couple of fictional stories in the works.
~ Sarah
Words, like Nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

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Post by homguy22 » Wed Sep 10, 2008 12:29 pm

I'll second the "Wow!"