COUSINS: A LOVE STORY

Postby LauraHogtieTickled » Tue May 29, 2012 8:26 am

FLORIDA. My cousin Cody was my inspiration and first instructor when it came to getting bound & gagged. Cody was two years older and more like a big brother than a cousin. Even as a kid, he was attractive, and I always looked up to him.

When I was 12 and he was 14, I got to spend part of the summer with Cody and his parents. Cody liked to play grabass games and he loved to wrestle as much for the body contact as the exercise. One fateful day, we were fooling around by his pool when Cody grabbed my arms and started wrestling. When he had me face down on the ground, he tied my hands behind me with a piece of strong cord. He told me I was his prisoner, and that he was going to torture me. All the while, as I’m squirming to get untied, I remember his hands all over me. He pushed me down and tied my feet.

While he was a little rough tying me up, once he had me tied he became amazingly gentle. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the smile on his face as he rubbed my shoulders or pushed the hair out of my face. I couldn’t help but smile back, though I’m sure I didn’t understand why. We’d been swimming, and our wet bodies were in constant contact. I remember thinking there was something dirty about the way Cody’s half naked body leaned over mine as he fondled everywhere, based on what my parents told me about not letting a stranger touch me. But this wasn’t a stranger, this was cousin Cody. And I loved the fact that he had me tied up and that we were friends. He didn’t hurt me. His torture only went as far as tickling and a few light punches. I think this was a game that he wanted me to enjoy as much as he did. We’d crossed a bridge together and something Big had happened. Cody kept me tied up until my aunt came home and made him untie me.

Cody’s room was in the attic, and we both slept in his bed. We were propped up in bed talking when I noticed Cody slowly rubbing his crotch while we talked. In all innocence, I asked him why he was playing with himself all the time. Cody said it felt good, and that guys do it all the time. To demonstrate, he put his hand on my pre-teen dick and told me to play with it, and I had to admit to him that I enjoyed it.

We pumped for a little while, then he told me he wanted to put his dick in my mouth. I couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to do something like that, and I thought he was playing a joke and wanted to piss in my mouth. Cody said it would feel good. I refused, and we got into a tussling match. My hands got tangled in his pajama bottoms, and he took the legs of the pajamas and tied them to the bedpost, with my hands trapped inside. I wasn’t taking this lightly, I was screaming and trying to fight back, so he leaned over me and put a hand over my mouth, to tell me to shut up. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger, really, or fear of waking his parents. He was sort of smiling, with a guilty secret look in his eyes.

Cody took his hand off my mouth, but stuck a rubber ball between my teeth to keep me quiet. After making sure my hands were tied tight, he stripped me of my pajama bottoms, and now I was bare butt naked as he was. He started massaging me again as he’d done by the pool, only this time he devoted much more attention to my crotch. Scared as I was, I loved it. He tied my feet together with my pajama pants and continued his assault. I was getting excited, not just as the sight of Cody naked, but also from pulling against the knots in the fabric that held me prisoner and finding that I couldn’t get free.

“This is how you suck a man’s dick,” Cody said. “Relax, it won’t hurt.” And he went down on me, his warm mouth cupped around my dick, licking and sucking till I was stiff. Cody was teaching me, calming me down and gently showing me the way to manhood. I thrashed around at first when he put his mouth on me, but out of excitement, not fear.

When he finished, he checked the knots again, then he took the rubber ball out of my mouth and leaned his crotch in my face. His dick was already stiff. “Just do like I did, go ahead,” he prompted, and I swallowed hard and took his dick in my mouth, a little at a time till it was all the way in. Cody started rocking back and forth, pumping and facefucking me, in complete control. For the first time, I swallowed the warm, sweet and salty taste of Cody’s cum. He wiped his dick on a pillowcase, then got up and took something from a dresser drawer. It was white adhesive tape, and a couple of strips of tape sealed my lips shit. Cody climbed on top of me and we slept that way, his groin rubbing against mine. The tape came off overnight, but I was still content.

Thanks to a length of rope Cody found, my hands were tied almost whenever the two of us had a private moment in his room. We experimented with the different ways a person could be tied up, as well as using socks and handkerchiefs for gags. We were both learning. I was frustrated that Cody let me suck his cock only one other time that summer. But he said he was a lot more interested seeing me tied and gagged than having his dick sucked, preferring to masturbate himself.

My last morning there was spent in his father’s tool shed, hands bound behind a post, with my shirt off and my shorts around my ankles, as Cody taught me how to kiss. He was a good teacher, and soon I had a deeper appreciation of the human tongue. It was the best summer of my young life.

That was in 1960. The following year my father’s job transferred him and the rest of us to Auckland, in New Zealand. 9,000 miles from Cody, and I had typical teenage angst about that. But Cody and I wrote to each other every other month or so. His letters helped me through the period when I felt like the world’s weirdest individual for liking guys instead of girls. Once I assured him that my parents weren’t intercepting and opening mail addressed to me, the subject of Cody’s letters turned to bondage and sex, and so did mine. We shared fantasies about seeing each other tied up and bare butt naked. Cody confessed that the year before he tied me up, he had been tied and gagged and sexually assaulted by a couple of 17 year olds he had been hanging out with. It was against his will, but he never told his parents or anyone else until he told me. He was uncomfortable about the rape part, but he said being tied up in the back seat of a car for hours was exciting, and I had to agree!

As time went by, we shared the details of our first sex experiences with other guys. But Cody said he would not tie up anyone but me, and whether or not he meant it, I was royally flattered. Cody sent me some pictures of himself, just in a pair of torn shorts and propped up on a couch, with his wrists tied to his ankles. My 15 year old’s glands went into overdrive.

He wanted a picture of me tied up, but since Cody could develop his own pictures and I couldn’t, it was not so simple. How could I convince someone to tie me up and photograph it without someone getting suspicious? And I could not just run down to the chemist at the neighborhood drug store and ask him to develop a roll of bondage pics. Finally, I persuaded a friend to tie me with my back against a pole, while wearing my swim trunks. My friend thought it was “sort of queer,” but I told him I was playing a joke on my American cousin, and he went along with it. He even volunteered to gag me with a handkerchief without my asking for it. I wanted him to take the pictures because he had a Polaroid camera, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself at the chemist’s, and I wanted to see his reaction to his friend, namely me, tied up. No heated reaction, unfortunately, but at least I got the pictures. I quickly sent the Polaroids of me tied to the pole to Cody the next day. Bonds across the sea.

After Cody started college, I didn’t hear from him as much. What was it Cole Porter said about something being too hot not to cool down? You grow up, you change, I thought. But I still had Cody fantasies. I came back to the States to go to college and moved to Florida, and through one thing or another I had been back almost two years before I saw Cody again.

It was 1968. I was 20 and he was 22, just out of college. It was another summer, and I was back for another visit at Cody’s house in Coos Bay. Cody had grown up sexier than hell, all close cropped hair and conservative after four years of college ROTC, and preparing to be a soldier in Vietnam, while I was liberal and long haired and a soldier in the sexual revolution. In spite of the political differences, Cody and I got along, as friends if not as the bondage brothers we had been before, at least for the first couple of days.

One morning I was sitting in an Adirondack chair by the pool, half reading and half sleeping, when Cody sneaked up on me and stuck a wide piece of tape across my mouth. The bastard had staged a sneak attack. By the time I could react to the gag, he had my wrists tied in front of me and held the ends of the rope. He leaned into the chair, his half naked body almost in my lap, and he just said “Follow me,” like Lurch on the Addams Family.

Cody took me to the same tool shed where he had given me a kissing seminar years earlier, door locked, shades drawn. I was tied to the same post, this time facing the post with my hands tied to it over my head. He took off my trunks, after a struggle, and then took off his own pants. He licked his finger and stuck it up my butt, saying he’d been waiting for this for eight years.

He put an old broom at my feet, then he spread my legs wide and used duct tape to bind my ankles to the opposite ends of the broomstick. I was spreadass wide and stretched vertically just enough to hurt a little, but of course that was part of the game.

Cody greased my ass and his cock with Crisco, and began a long, slow, hot fuck that had me screaming in spite of the gag. His mouth sucked the sweat on my neck and armpits, while his hands squeezed my tits and pulled on my long hair. “Fuckin’ hippie likes Cody up the ass,” he said over and over. “You’re not gettin’ away till I fuck you good, Cuz.” Cody came in my ass with a tremendous groan. He grabbed my dick and jerked it till I came myself. In a weird sense, now we were really brothers. And I was where I was supposed to be, under Cody’s control.

Now that the ice was totally broken, I was Cody’s bondage slave for the next week, whenever we were by ourselves. On my last day at Cody’s, he tied me to a chair, and then took a shoestring from my sneaker and tied it around my balls and dick. He told me to wear it all the way home on the train ride back to Florida, to remember him. And for 2 1/2 days, the string stayed tied there, as I rode with one bare foot overflowing one constantly untied sneaker. I owed it to Cody, and I still have that shoestring.

The train station was the last time I saw Cody in person. He was shipped to Whidbey Island N.A.S., and from there to Vietnam a month later. A treasured possession of mine is a faded color photo he sent to me from Vietnam. It is an old snapshot of Cody and two other smiling handsome guys, one white and one black, bare chested and arms around each other’s shoulders. What makes the snapshot poignant is that Cody has a rope looped and tied around his neck with the black soldier in the center holding the end of the rope like a dog’s leash. On the back of the picture Cody wrote, “These two got me crocked and TU’d (our shorthand for ‘tied up’) last night. Wish you were here. Code.”

Cody was killed in Vietnam in 1969, a few months before he was scheduled to come back home. Damn that war. Damn everything. Except bondage.

Re: COUSINS: A LOVE STORY

Postby mikeybound » Tue May 29, 2012 10:09 am

Oh my god! This is from Bob Wingate's blog. You'd better give credit where credit's due. Still good though :)