Postby tjlake » Mon Apr 25, 2016 7:44 pm
On that Tuesday morning, it took me a full 90 minutes of intense effort, but I did in fact manage to eventually untie all of Brenda’s knots. She seemed really disappointed that she wasn’t able to keep me hogtied all day long and enforce the game’s penalties on me, but once again, she told me that she would “honor the rules” of our game. I had escaped “fair and square”, so I won, or so she told me. And she said that she would accept the outcome, even though she seemed quite upset that I had somehow succeeded in freeing myself from her hogtie, for the second day in a row.
Then Brenda gathered up the four strips of rope that she’d used to hogtie me, along with the other three remaining strips, and she put them away in my underwear drawer, underneath my underpants. After that, she went off and did her housework, mostly ignoring me for the rest of the morning and afternoon.
I thought that by playing the game with me every day, Brenda might develop a less hostile attitude towards me, but on Wednesday and again on Thursday, I could see that Brenda was definitely growing more annoyed with me each day. But that was probably because I ended up winning our game on both days, and Brenda didn’t seem to like it when she lost to me.
What I do remember is that on both Wednesday and Thursday morning, as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda would immediately appear at my bedroom door, telling me that she wanted to play the rope game with me again. Or as she called it, my “college hogtie game”.
Brenda apparently hadn’t forgotten that I had scolded her the previous week about walking into my bedroom without permission, because each day, she would stand in my doorway with a scowl on her face, and she would quietly ask if she could enter my room.
When I would tell her it was okay to come in, she would quickly retrieve the ropes from my underwear drawer, then she would hastily undress me.
Brenda would remain fully clothed, in her knee length skirt and work blouse, while I would be stripped all the way down to my underpants. For my part, I was becoming increasingly worried about allowing Brenda to strip me like that each day, since she was continually informing me that she was thinking about bringing one of our neighbors to my bedroom, to watch me as I tried to escape.
Each time that Brenda would mention bringing a witness to my room, she was very casual about it, as if it would be a perfectly normal thing for her to do, to allow one of my female neighbors to be there in my bedroom, while I wriggled helplessly around on my bed, after Brenda had stripped me and hogtied me.
“Since it’s a game that young men like yourself are playing at college these days, I see no reason why young Kristie or Bethany shouldn’t be allowed to watch you trying to escape from your hogtie…..” Brenda would tell me, several times during each of our morning games.
Brenda would further explain to me that if one of my neighbors were there in my bedroom, it would allow her to go off and start her housework, leaving Kristie, or Bethany, or possibly even Mrs. McCauley, to serve not only as a spectator, but as a referee of sorts.
But Brenda was also telling me that she would need to instruct the witness not to untie me, or to assist me in any way, no matter how uncomfortable I looked, or how many times I asked to be untied.
“…..I’ll have to make sure that Kristie, and Bethany, and Mrs. McCauley understand that the rules of the game are that you have all day long to try to escape, and that you need to free yourself from your hogtie completely on your own, without any help …….” Brenda would tell me, noting that she would also have to explain the two penalties to the witness, in case I were to lose the game.
Needless to say, I was becoming increasingly worried about Brenda bringing a spectator to one of our morning rope games, and it was for that reason that I would tell her that I didn’t want her to undress me all the way down to my underpants. But each morning, Brenda would insist on removing my clothing before she tied me up, telling me that she could tie me tighter if I was stripped. More importantly, it would be more “fun” for me, if I were undressed, or so Brenda liked to remind me.
She was quite stubborn about it, to the point that when I tried to prevent her from removing my clothing, she would strip me against my will. She would aggressively yank my shirt up over my head, and while my arms were now being trapped inside my shirt, Brenda would forcibly pull my pants down my legs, all the way down around my ankles.
Then while I was off balance, with my arms still ensnared by my shirt, and with my pants down around my ankles, Brenda would aggressively shove me backwards onto my bed, after which she would quickly remove my shoes, socks, pants, and shirt.
So I would end up being undressed all the way down to my underpants anyway, despite my growing fears about Brenda making good on her threat to bring a spectator to my bedroom, to serve as a sort of “referee” for our rope game. A referee that would in effect be standing there watching, as I lay there squirming on my mattress, trying to free myself from my hogtie.
Adding to my concerns, Brenda continued her practice of tossing my pieces of clothing in a conspicuous pile on the floor just inside my bedroom door, so that anyone walking into my room would very definitely notice all of my stripped away clothes lying on the floor in plain sight.
In any case, after Brenda would shove me down onto my bed and undress me each morning, she would forcefully turn me over onto my stomach, then she would climb up on the bed on top of me, telling me that she was ready to tie my wrists behind my back.
It was time to start our hogtie game, she would inform me.
So there I would be, lying face down on my bed, wearing nothing but a pair of cotton briefs, with Brenda straddling me, staring coldly down at me. Each morning that we played, I remember how Brenda’s long, husky thighs felt really warm and heavy on top of me, and I also recall how Brenda felt awfully strong, as she would proceed to grab both of my wrists and aggressively yank them up behind my back.
Each morning, there would be that moment of sudden panic on my part, just before Brenda would begin to tie my wrists together. I don’t know why I waited each day until Brenda had captured my wrists in her capable hands, before I would abruptly tell Brenda that I had changed my mind and didn’t want to play the game after all.
But that’s exactly what would happen. Just when Brenda would twist my wrists behind my back and pin them firmly together, I guess the reality of my situation would set in. I would suddenly get scared, about what if Brenda was able to keep me hogtied all day long, and what if I really did end up being forced to submit to both of the highly undesirable penalties.
That was a big fear of mine, but I think that my main concern was that I knew that I would never be able to live down the embarrassment, if I were ever to be discovered, stripped and hogtied face down on my bed, by one of my female neighbors.
So I guess there were a few different reasons that would cause me to suddenly panic, just as Brenda would start to tie my wrists behind my back. I would abruptly begin to jerk on my arms, trying to pull free from Brenda’s tight grip, in order to back out of our game.
Unfortunately for me, I would re-discover what I already knew, which was that Brenda was too strong for me. I would thrash around and tug on my arms with everything I had, only to have Brenda calmly tighten her grip around my wrists, clenching them firmly together behind my back with one hand. Then she would bear down in her straddle position on top of me, and begin to tie my wrists together with one of the long strips of rope.
With me continuing to struggle, Brenda would loop the rope around my wrists, painstakingly tightening each loop as snugly as possible. Then she would crossloop the rope several times and tie several tight knots.
“You know that I have no trouble keeping your wrists pinned behind your back, so I don’t understand why you suddenly get all flustered, and try to pull free, every time we start to play your little rope game……” Brenda would chide me, following up with a stern warning about what she had planned for me, during the rest of my summerlong vacation:
“You should know by now that I’m stronger than you are, and I’m not going to let you back out of our rope game, young man…..” Brenda would continue, before telling me that she fully intended on hogtying me every day that she came to the house, every day for the remainder of the summer.
“The only way for me to keep you from being a pest is to hogtie you, so we ARE going to play your game ….. every day ….. whether you want to play or not……” she would warn me, and I’m not sure why, but I always felt really embarrassed when Brenda would taunt me about how she was able to forcibly hogtie me, even when I didn’t want to be tied up. I guess a female wasn’t supposed to be stronger than a male, and wasn’t supposed to be able to hogtie him against his will. So when Brenda would point out to me that she was able to easily overpower me, and could in fact force me into bondage whenever she wanted, it would cause me to blush with intense humiliation. But I would say nothing.
One thing that I remember, though, was that during those first few times that Brenda tied me up, I would get really nervous over the realization that Brenda was proving herself to be physically stronger than I was. And I would also find myself feeling uneasy about what the game’s outcome was going to be that day. I guess my unease was due to the fact that even during our very first game, Brenda had already turned out to be surprisingly good with rope, clearly a natural at hogtying someone.
What was even more significant was that with each day, Brenda tied the rope a little tighter, and she got a little bit better at hogtying me. As good as she was that first time, she continued to get even more confident in her knot tying ability, with each day that she played the game with me. She would tell me that she bet it would wipe the smug grin off my face, if she were able to win, and if she were able to impose the game‘s penalties on me, those penalties being that she would give me a tickling, and she would force me to lick her feet.
All of which she would do while I was still securely hogtied and unable to stop her, she would remind me, vowing that she would not be releasing me from my hogtie, not until after she had forcibly collected both penalties from me.
That was becoming her obsession, to win and to not only enforce the game’s two penalties on me, but to enforce the penalties while I remained hogtied and unable to resist her in any way. That would teach me some much needed respect, she would tell me each morning, at the beginning of that day’s game.
Despite my unease over how strong and how capable Brenda was turning out to be, and in spite of my apprehension over where my relationship with Brenda was heading, I kept acting cocky throughout the games of that first week, insisting to Brenda that she could never keep me hogtied all day long. So she would never get to tickle me, nor would I ever have to lick her feet, or so I kept telling Brenda.
But I was becoming increasingly concerned that she was going to end up collecting the penalties from me, because during the first four games, on that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I only barely managed to escape each day, and only after a very long time. And by that Friday morning, as we were set to play our fifth game of the week, my fingers were so sore and so tender, that I could barely move them. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t stay in the house that morning.
I truly did consider leaving the house that morning before my mother went to work, because I thought that I really needed to back out of our game that day, so that I could have that Friday, along with two full weekend days, to be able to finally rest my aching fingers.
I remember that I was genuinely worried about what the outcome of that day’s game was going to be. And I knew that once my mother left the house and Brenda entered my bedroom, it would be too late to back out, because I knew from past experience that Brenda would shove me down on my bed, and insist on playing our rope game, whether I wanted to play or not.
But despite my fears that I was going to lose our game on that Friday morning, I nonetheless waited in my bedroom for Brenda to come and undress me. Even when I heard my mother leaving the house, I continued to wait anxiously in my room, maybe because deep down, I was curious if Brenda would truly be able to hogtie me so that I wouldn’t be able to escape, for real this time.
For her part during the course of that week, Brenda had started to ask me if she should use more of the ropes on me, so that she could tie me in some other area, more than just my wrists, ankles, and thighs. She was, after all, using only 4 of the 7 ropes that she had originally cut, or so she was quick to point out to me each day that we played. One strip of rope was being used on my wrists, another on my ankles, a third rope on my bared thighs, and the fourth to hogtie my wrists to my ankles.
But Brenda kept saying that she wanted to use more than just 4 strips of rope.
I would insist to Brenda that I wanted her to tie only my wrists and my ankles, because tying my wrists and ankles was enough. After she had tied my thighs together on the second day, I kept telling her that I didn’t want her to tie my thighs. I really didn’t.
But Brenda went ahead and tied my legs just above my knees, on that Wednesday, and again on that Thursday. As much as I was instructing her not to do it, there was no way for me to stop Brenda from tying my naked thighs together anyway. After all, I was lying face down on my bed with my wrists already bound behind my back, and with my ankles already tied together, which meant that Brenda could do whatever she wanted to do to me.
And she definitely wanted to tie my thighs together.
“It’ll be more fun for you when I leave you alone on your bed …… so your thighs need to be tied, young man….” she would tell me, and I guess she was right about it being more enjoyable for me. Because each morning when she would walk out of my bedroom and leave me by myself for those ten minutes, my excitement would get the better of me. No sooner would Brenda leave my bedroom, I would begin to wriggle around on my bed, and the tightness of the ropes around my wrists, ankles, and thighs would send waves of raw arousal rushing throughout my body, waves of arousal that I couldn’t suppress, no matter how hard I tried.
In no time at all, I would find myself pressing my face down into my pillow, and things would quickly spin out of control, until my hips and bottom would begin to shudder uncontrollably.
I really did try to stifle my lusty feelings, because I most definitely didn’t want Brenda to know that I had once again lost control of my sexuality. But each day, she would end up catching me having my “fun” on my bed, which was one of the many ways that she would describe what she caught me doing every day.
And even though Brenda was telling me that she was going off to scrub my bathroom sink, I was pretty sure that she was actually standing right outside my bedroom door, standing there and listening to what was happening inside my room. I say that, because each morning, no sooner would my excitement spin away from me, I would lift my head up from my pillow, and there Brenda would be, standing quietly at the foot of my bed, frowning down at me for “indulging” myself again.
She even began to use a specific word to describe what I was doing, and it was a word that caused me considerable shame and embarrassment.
“You just masturbated against your mattress again, didn’t you?” she would ask, and I would want to tell her that I couldn’t help myself, because of the way that she had my wrists tied behind my back, and because of the way that she had my ankles and my thighs bound together.
I would want to tell Brenda that it was her fault, for tying the ropes so tight. But whenever Brenda would speak to me in that scolding tone of hers, and accuse me of masturbating against my mattress, I would just lie there in my face down position, and I wouldn’t say anything, because I knew that there was nothing I could say that would excuse what Brenda had just caught me doing.
My face would turn deep red, however, particularly when Brenda would bring up my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer.
“I can’t imagine that they would still think so highly of you, if either of them were to ever walk into your bedroom and watch you do what you just did….” Brenda would point out, wondering how my mother or Jennifer might react, if either of them were to find out how I was pleasuring myself each morning in my bedroom, while I was lying face down on my bed, with my wrists knotted tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together.
“I’m certain that they would be very disappointed with you, to say the least, if they knew that you were doing something that disgusting in your bedroom every day, while you and I are playing your college hogtie game, and while I’ve got you stripped and tied up on your bed…” Brenda would follow up, adding that she didn’t realize that a male could gratify himself in that way, while he was lying on his stomach with his wrists bound behind his back.
“…..but at least I know that I must be tying you the way that you like to be tied…….” she would continue, further noting that I seemed to truly enjoy not only having my wrists laced together behind my back, but having my ankles and thighs tied “extra tight” as well.
And Brenda was very probably right about that. Because it seemed that the tighter she tied me, the harder it was for me to control myself, during those 10 minute periods each morning, when Brenda would walk out of my bedroom and inform me that she was going to leave me alone.
“I’m going to scrub your bathroom sink …. So you can go ahead and put your face down into your fluffy pillow and have your dirty little fun……” she would tell me.
As I noted, I really was trying to curb my arousal, because each day, I was concerned that Brenda was in fact going to walk back in to my room and catch me. Which was exactly what she would end up doing. And I knew that every time that she did catch me, and every time that she would shake her head with disgust and scold me for “masturbating” against my mattress, a dangerous precedent was not only being set, but was being reinforced.
Nonetheless each morning, I couldn’t prevent myself from getting swept away in the excitement of the moment, as I lay there face down on my bed, with my wrists bound behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs tied together. I guess I was just being overwhelmed by the feeling of complete helplessness, because during each of our morning rope games, Brenda was tying me so very securely, and so very tight. Even during our first few games, Brenda was proving to be surprisingly good with rope.
And the way that she was continuing to speak to me was so demeaning, and so thoroughly humbling.
“I really can’t believe that you could do such a thing, while you’re lying there on your stomach, with your wrists tied behind your back ……. You must like being tied up really tight, don’t you?“ Brenda would needle me, and as the week progressed, she began to relate a story to me, a story that she herself had heard when she was a young girl growing up. According to Brenda, one of the neighborhood mothers was supposedly tying her son’s wrists behind his back, to prevent him from playing with himself, while she was off at work each day. Apparently, the mother would leave her son home alone all day, with his wrists bound behind his back, and she would untie his wrists only upon her return home each night. And the mother would allegedly re-tie her son’s wrists at bedtime, to stop him from playing with himself during the night. That mother was supposedly tying her son’s wrists from the time he was a young boy, all the way until he went away to college.
But at some point during the week, Brenda got the idea into her head that she might apply that story from her childhood to my own situation.
“…..if your mother or Jennifer were ever to catch us playing your hogtie game, I might just tell them that I walked in and found you gratifying yourself in your bedroom, so I decided that your wrists needed to be tied behind your back, to prevent you from misbehaving while I did my housework…….” Brenda informed me, adding that she might also have to reveal to my mother and to Jennifer that it was fortunate that she turned out to be physically stronger than me, because I didn’t want to be tied, so Brenda had to forcibly bind my wrists behind my back, against my will.
As if that wouldn’t be embarrassing enough of a story, Brenda went on to say that in addition, she might have to tell my mother and Jennifer that even though she was tying my wrists behind my back, I continued to pleasure myself on my bed, so Brenda was forced to take even more drastic action, which was to hogtie me all the way.
“That’s what I ought to tell them, that I had to hogtie you tighter and tighter each day, for you own good, to break you of your disgusting habit…..” Brenda would tell me.
But despite everything that Brenda was saying, she seemed to be very clearly aware that it was the tightness of the ropes that was causing me to do what I was doing on my bed every day. Maybe that was why Brenda continued to tie me a little bit tighter, each time that she tied me up.
Which might have been why it took me a little longer each day to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. On that Wednesday, and again on Thursday, Brenda tied the ropes noticeably tighter than she had on the previous day, even though I kept telling her that the ropes were a bit too tight.
But Brenda would simply ignore my protests.
“They’re supposed to be too tight……that way, it’ll be harder for you to escape….that’s the point of your college hogtie game, isn’t it? I’m supposed to try to keep you hogtied all day long, aren’t I?” she would respond, and she was right about it being more difficult for me to escape each morning that we played our rope game. While it had taken me a full ninety minutes to escape on that Tuesday, it took me even longer on Wednesday and Thursday. Brenda had wound the ropes so tightly, and I had wriggled powerlessly around on my mattress, jerking futilely on my hogtied wrists and ankles, while Brenda stood quietly at the side of my bed, watching very closely.
Each day, I had to really try, and I mean I had to really try my hardest. On Wednesday and Thursday morning, I even gave up trying numerous times, and I would just lie there, helplessly hogtied, my fingers achy and cramping up, as I peered sheepishly back up over my shoulder at Brenda, secretly hoping that maybe she would go ahead and untie me.
But Brenda would simply stare down at me, an unsmiling, icy stare. And instead of showing any sympathy regarding my obvious discomfort, she would merely instruct me to keep trying to escape.
“You have to free yourself on your own. Those are the rules ….. And remember, if Kristie, or Bethany, or Mrs. McCauley come to watch you play your little rope game, they’ll be instructed not to untie you, or help you in any way…..” Brenda would tell me, while continually reminding me of the penalties, if I were to end up losing our game. Then Brenda would further warn me that she expected me to honor the game’s outcome if I lost, just as she accepted the outcome every time that I won.
In fact, Brenda was quite insistent about that, telling me that if I lost, she was fully committed to not only tickling me, but forcing me to lick her bare feet for as long as she wished, while I remained hogtied.
Fortunately, however, on both Wednesday and Thursday, after just over two full hours of struggling, I finally succeeded in loosening the knots and releasing the tether rope, after which I was able to eventually untie the rope that was binding my wrists together.
During each of our first four games that week, Brenda would wait in my bedroom and watch me trying to escape, and she seemed truly upset when I would finally manage to free myself. But I could tell that she was not only becoming more enthusiastic about playing the game with me, but that each day, she was growing more confident in her ability to hogtie me. Each time that she tied me up, she was able to loop and crossloop the ropes more quickly, and she was tying the knots tighter, and more effectively.
More to the point, Brenda seemed to know that she was doing a really good job, and she also seemed to realize that my success in escaping was mostly a matter of luck on my part.
And Brenda was also well aware that my fingers were getting really achy and tender, because she began to remark that I wasn’t able to pick at the knots with very much success.
“Are your fingers getting sore?” she would ask me, and when I would admit that they were in fact getting really sore, Brenda would look pleased, as if she understood that it was only a matter of time, maybe only one more day, or two days at the most, until I would no longer be able to loosen the knots with my fingers. I think that Brenda’s steadily increasing confidence was due to the fact that she knew that she was going to end up winning our game, and soon.
But during that first week, each time that I would once again manage to escape, I would grin triumphantly up at her, gloating over the fact that I had won again, and was still ‘undefeated’ at our game. That seemed to really get Brenda riled up, and she would assure me that she was going to tie me even better, and even tighter, when we played the game the next morning. And she would warn me not to be so cocky, because pretty soon, she was going to tie me so that I stayed hogtied all day long.
Each night during that week, I would visit my girlfriend Jennifer at her house, and we would make out on the living room couch, while Jennifer’s mother was in another room. But during my evenings with Jennifer, and then later, after I got home from my date, I was thinking only about Brenda, and not at all about Jennifer.
It was probably more accurate to say that I was totally fixating on Brenda, in anticipation of the following morning when Brenda would be returning to my house. After all, this tall, powerfully built cleaning woman wasn’t just enthusiastic about playing my rope game with me, but she had become downright obsessive about playing. The minute that my mother would leave the house to go to work each morning, Brenda would show up at my bedroom door, eager to strip me and tie me up.
During those first four mornings, I was lucky enough to escape from Brenda’s hogtie. But on Wednesday, and again on Thursday, I really didn’t think I was going to be able to free myself. And by the time I finally did untie all of Brenda’s knots, I was so weak and so physically drained, that I was just lying there, face down in my underpants, unable to get up from my bed for quite some time. While I had been bound for those two hours on each of those mornings, I had in fact been very effectively immobilized, in extremely restrictive and seemingly inescapable hogties. Which was what I would think about while I was with Jennifer each night at her house.
While I would be kissing Jennifer in her living room, I would think about how frustratingly tight and uncomfortable that morning’s hogtie had been. But I would also be thinking about all of the strange yet intriguing sensations that I had experienced, while I had been lying there on my bed, so expertly bound by Brenda. Then I would find myself dwelling on how embarrassing it would be, if Brenda were ever to make good on her threat, that if we ever got caught by my mother or by Jennifer, then she would simply have to explain what the two of us had been doing every morning in my bedroom.
There was the true explanation, which was that Brenda and I were playing a college “hogtie” game, a game that I had talked Brenda into playing, and that Brenda was proving to be very good at. And then there was the fabricated story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, which was that Brenda had caught me ”misbehaving” in my bedroom, so she had decided to forcibly tie my wrists behind my back, to try to prevent me from indulging myself, when I was alone in my room. And when Brenda had again caught me doing it, even after she had tied my wrists, she had decided that the only way to break me of my “disgusting” habit, was to hogtie me all the way.
At least that was the story that Brenda was thinking that she ought to tell my mother or Jennifer, should either of them find out that Brenda was hogtying me in my bedroom every day.
I wasn’t sure which explanation would be more shocking for my mother or Jennifer, the true story, or the fictitious explanation that Brenda wanted to tell, about how she caught me playing with myself, and decided to forcibly tie me up, against my will.
And then the fifth time that Brenda hogtied me, on that Friday morning, Brenda stayed away from my room, and she completely ignored me as she usually did. But as soon as my mother left for work, Brenda immediately appeared at my bedroom door, asking permission to enter my room while telling me in an impatient voice that she wanted to play my “hogtie game” again.
She proceeded to strip me down to my underpants, only this time, she told me that she’d been thinking about it a lot during the past couple of days, thinking about what I had related to her, when I had originally told her my story about what my college girlfriend had supposedly done with me.
And then Brenda surprised me by informing me that before she hogtied me, she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, which was the way that she worded it that day. When I flashed an uneasy grin at her, she casually explained that she had gone shopping at a lingerie boutique after work on the previous evening, and she wanted to dress me in a short silk miniskirt, along with some feminine undergarments that she’d purchased, specifically for me, and specifically for our game.
Apparently, Brenda was no longer bothered by the concerns that she had expressed to me one week earlier, one of those concerns being that she didn’t know me well enough to dress me in female underwear. And I guess that she was no longer worried about whether our neighbors might find out and get the wrong idea, about what Brenda and I were doing in my bedroom every day.
Another concern that Brenda had conveyed one week earlier was that both my mother and my girlfriend Jennifer might not approve of Brenda dressing me up in feminine underclothing and then hogtying me, while the two of us were alone in the house. But I guess that Brenda was no longer worried about that either.
Maybe Brenda felt that she now knew me well enough, because she had hogtied me four times already that week, which might have caused her to begin to feel a certain level of familiarity towards me.
And let’s not forget that on every one of the four days, Brenda had allowed me to gaze at her skirt covered bottom for a fairly long time, before leaving me alone in my bedroom, for those ten minutes of tightly bound helplessness on my bed.
Each day, she had stood at the side of my bed, directly in my line of vision, so that I could look closely at her wide, skirt covered bottom, before she would leave the room, in order that I might indulge my “masculine impulses”, as Brenda called it.
It should also be noted that on each of those four mornings, Brenda had walked back into my bedroom, and she had caught me in the act of self gratification, as I lay there face down, with my wrists tied tightly behind my back, and with my ankles and thighs bound together.
So maybe it was because of a combination of all of those reasons, that on that Friday morning, Brenda seemed to have gotten over her initial shock, and her possible distaste, over the thought of a sophisticated college male being dressed up in female lingerie and then hogtied.
Looking back now, though, I think that the main reason for Brenda’s decision to dress me up in feminine underwear, could very well have been that she was confident that this was the day that she was going to win our game.
Which might explain why Brenda had changed her mind about dressing me up in women’s underclothing on that Friday morning. It’s very possible that Brenda was convinced that this was the day that she was going to keep me hogtied, and she had decided that dressing me up like a girl, in a short silk miniskirt and frilly ladies’ underwear, might just be the first step in the process of wiping the smug grin off my face, which at that point in our tense and decidedly unfriendly relationship, Brenda clearly wanted to do. She wanted to embarrass and humiliate me, and she wanted to teach me some respect.
And what better way to do it than to dress me up in feminine lingerie, and then leave me hogtied all day long in my bedroom, unable to free myself.
Whatever the case, after four days of playing tie-up games with me, Brenda told me that she wanted to dress me up “like a college girl”, in female underwear and a short silk skirt, before she hogtied me.
Last edited by tjlake on Tue Apr 26, 2016 7:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.