A remedy for chatter

Postby raisondecoeur » Wed Aug 18, 2010 4:12 am

I have been a visitor of this website for a long time, but I never contributed. Now I will.
Have some patience with my English as it isn’t my mother tongue.

Introduction

I didn't exactly know what I was doing on her doorsteps. I didn't really know her very well. But at a certain moment in my life she unexpectedly turned up at several places I used to frequent. We had a few chats and we knew we had some interests in common, but I wasn't really hitting for her. Oh yes, A. was attractive, but then again I am one of these guys who can find something attractive in almost every woman: a particular smile of movement, bare shoulders, delightful legs, a gorgeous face, the size of firm breasts, a way of talking or even just blinking the eyes, … In A.’s case, she could meet the stereotype of an attractive girl next door. She is rather tall, long blond hair, but despite the stereotype not dumb at all, with a nice glistering in her blue eyes. And she seemed to have an interest in me, something I found hard to belief. I was in between relationships at that time and actually not yet ready to engage in another commitment.

But here I was, standing in the rain, waiting for her to answer the bell of the door. I was in the neighbourhood, my old college town where she was still studying. The streets were deserted. Most students were already heading home again with a long weekend coming. She knew I was coming, she was even hardly surprised when I called her. We would have the house for ourselves, she announced, as her fellow students would also be home. So opened with a smile and surprised me with a kiss on my cheek. I had the feeling I couldn't 'read' this woman. She could act very open and yet at the same time close herself behind what I felt as mindless chatter. She would tell intimate details about other people’s lives but obscure her own feelings. But hey, I suppose I acted in similar ways except that I would hardly speak at all. I was known as a 'good listener’; maybe this also was just a strategy to hide some vulnerability. Any way, I felt confused in her presence. Not the confusion of falling in love, but the confusion of the desire of falling in love but doubting about it at the same time. Just to say I was in a particular state of mind.

A birthday present

As expected, during dinner, she started talking and talking and talking. I grunted from time to time. I even tried to ask some considerate questions, but really I was just struggling with my confusion. Her birthday passed some weeks ago. I even remember because our birthdays were quite close to each other. She rattled about some presents and attentions she received when at a certain moment she finally got my full attention. We were both members of the same national youth movement, although of course in different local groups. She was, herself beginning of her twenties, a mentor of a group of girls aged between 16 and 18. Now it turned out these girls had a special celebration of the birthday in mind. Once A. entered the play ground, she was attacked by a bunch of girls, easily overpowering her. Now to get this picture a little bit sharper it is interesting to know that most groups of this youth movement required their members to wear a uniform. For the girls this uniform consisted (at that moment) in a blue gown that year after year after its initial purchase grew shorter and shorter. As a matter of decency, most girls therefore were wearing a short above their panties, still showing some very nice legs. A. wasn't really surprised by the attack. It turned out that among the group there was an ongoing game that basically consisted in a tie up game, although they called it something else. Within minutes A. was very securely tied up, or I said say, wrapped up in a bundle of rope all around her body. She was laid in a wheelbarrow and driven to what turned out to be the local railway station. She couldn't see as the girls had her blindfolded. Above the blindfold they installed some earphones so she completely lost track of her whereabouts. At a certain moment she was taken out of the vehicle and she felt she was lifted on some kind of platform. Until that moment there was a continuously poking and touching, but suddenly she felt left alone. Hearing the story I felt quite aroused. I never told A. about my inclination to tie up games, but now my fantasy was going nuts. I could easily imagine her, in this uniform showing her long legs, sitting against the wall with a black blindfold around her long blond hair. The platform and the wall belonged to a train. On her chest the girls had a ticket attached for a trip to the next station. Luckily they had the conductor alerted who liberated A. Although he behaved discontented about the action of the girls I guess he found himself a lucky guy to witness A.'s struggles. The story concluded with a befriended group of girls waiting for her in the next station with cake and presents...

Bewilderment

The story left me bewildered. I had now idea why she was telling it. It was just part of a continuous stream of anecdotes. Yet, she addressed, without her noticing (or so I thought), a secret spot in me. At that time moment in my life I was still very confused about my attraction to tie up games. (Oh boy, writing this story, it seems I was confused about almost every thing). Starting with the development of my own sexuality I realized I could get, euh, aroused by my fantasies about tied and gagged females (I remember as a 10-12 year old boy all kind of fantasies about kidnapped girls that I would rescue, although at the same time the excitement was not so much about playing a here but was rather in imagining this tied up girl. Another favourite fantasy would be that we were abducted together and bound to each other, preferably in our bathing suits). Growing up as a teenager at the same time I developed all kinds of idealized images about being in love and in a relationship, caring for each other and as it comes to sexuality I could only think about very tender moments. I couldn’t bring these two images together: my desire for bondage seemed the very opposite of my desire for love and understanding. Tying up a girl felt like an immediate attack to her integrity. When I felt in love I even felt very guilty about my fantasies about tie up games with her. So I never dared to express my inclination for bondage to the girls I loved (during my teenage years I had a few experiences though, but never in a love relationship). It was only much later that I learned that friendship, love and bondage can go together perfectly well: tie up games actually require a lot of trust and mutual understanding, but hey I don’t have to defend the lifestyle on this forum I guess. Any way, here I was, sitting at a table with an attractive girl telling me openly about a tie up game as if it was the most normal thing in the world that could happen. I still don’t know whether or not she brought up the topic deliberately as the following events seem to indicate that for her to, it wasn’t really a ‘normal thing’.

A remedy for chatter - part 2 M/F more intimate

Postby raisondecoeur » Wed Aug 18, 2010 10:25 pm

A remedy for chatter

The moment of bewilderment passed away. We did the dishes together and she took me to her room. I don’t remember any more what we talked about, or I should rather say, what she talked about as I kept quite silent. The room was nothing special, but still it was a girl’s room with a particular smell in it that I really liked (a hint of a perfume mixed with the smell of a girl’s skin and the odour of washed clothes). Time went by without me noticing and at a certain moment it was too late to catch my train back home. It actually felt quite cosy when we decided I should stay for the night. It was already late when we headed for a sleep. She would take her bed where as I would lay on the ground next to her on a sleeping mattress she took from one of the neighbouring rooms. She went to the bathroom to undress and came back in a very classic night gown: plain white, leaving her arms and lower legs bare. As I was not prepared for a sleepover I decided to sleep in my underwear and shirt. I was very tired at that moment, so I was damn serious when I first objected to her chatter that continued after the lights were turned out. I complained I had to leave early, that I liked her stories but that I preferred to hear them at other occasions when I would be more attentive. She stopped for a moment, but a few moments later turned again her face in the direction of where I was laying to start a new series of gossips. ‘O please’, I yelled and turned my head into the pillow pretending not to listen any more. As a result she started to tease me, hanging over to bring her mouth as close a possible to my ears and to continue her whispers. I reacted by impulse. I sat upright, turned towards her and bringing my hand to her mouth. ‘O please shut up’ I said with my hand firmly put over her mouth. I was immediately sexually aroused, feeling the texture of her lips behind my fingers. She giggled and moved her body back to the other side in order to get rid of my grip. I followed her to the bed, jumped on top of her, holding her body between my knees and replacing my hand back to her lips. She muffled something between her teeth and moved her body in order to get me off the bed; still it was quite clear she enjoyed the situation. Our struggles continued for some minutes. She managed to free her arms and tried to take my hand away from her mouth. She would succeed and then utter some more words of her story before I would replace my hands again to cover her mouth. My hands were becoming wet from her spit, but I didn’t mind as I fully enjoyed her ‘mmmph’s and the moving of her body below mine. Yet, at a certain moment, she struggled free and stepped out of her own bed, still laughing and giggling announcing that she really had to go to the bathroom. She left the room so I had a moment to recover.

My hearth was beating very fast but I felt very excited about what just happened. Without much thinking I got out of the bed myself. I found a bathrobe hanging at one of the walls and took the belt from it. Next to the heater I found a towel and a scarf. Pretty little equipment, but it had to do the job. I posted myself next to the door and waited for her to come back. I still remember this waiting as one of the most exciting events in my life, but I can’t say she was really surprised when I grabbed her from the back when she re-entered the sleeping room. While I hand gagged her again I pushed her body to mine meanwhile trying to get her arms to her side with my other arm. She ‘mmmph’d nicely in my hand and seemed to agree to slowly move with me back in the direction of the bed. Actually I think she could easily escape my embrace, but she didn’t. Not until we reached the bed again. I had the binding equipment laid on her bed and I reached for the towel to improvise a gag. I had to loosen my grip and she got free. Giggling again she ran through her room, but not towards the door. I took the belt and cached her again in one of the corners. I succeeded finally in forcing her to turn her face to the wall and to bring her hands at her back. The belt wasn’t really long enough but was enough to keep her hands secured for this moment. She protested in laughter, but it was much easier now to silence her again with my hand over her mouth. With one hand around her waist and the other around her mouth I brought her back to the bed. As she tried to run again we both felled on it, she on top of me, her hands still secured behind her back. Luckily none of us got hurt. I climbed from under her and made her lay on her back with the hands behind her. She started her mock protest again but now I got hold of the towel. I made a knot in the middle and shoved it between her teeth. I could only knot the gag twice between her head and she could still make a lot of sound but I fully enjoyed the scene. It even got better. While she was trying to kick her legs, her night gown shuffled upwards revealing her panties and part of her belly. I grabbed her feet and tied them together with the scarf. Again, not the best tying job ever and the equipment was poor but here I was with my own damsel in distress. Although: ‘distress’ is not the right word as she seemed to enjoy the situation as much as I did. Although tied hands and feet she kicked her body against me to prevent me to handgag her again above the towel while she continued to utter part of the story she was telling before. The gown rose even further to the underside of her breasts. I couldn’t resist: I pulled it over her head and over her arms to her hands at her back. As she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the gown she was now lieing next to me in just her panties. I was meself lieing on the matrass still holding an arm around her waist to keep her on the bed. I stayed face down to the matrass as I felt quite embarrassed about my huge erection that I tried to hide. I expected her to anger about my moves, but she just turned her back to make it easier for me to untie her hands and to remove the piece of clothing completely. At that time I finally found the courage to ask her if she was ok. She moaned something in her gag. I removed the towel but she instantly objected: ‘if you remove the gag, I will continue teasing you … And you should better tie my hands again as otherwise I will be able to remove the gag myself.’ I applied the gag again but I made her hop to the only chair in the room. I made her sit and retied her hands behind her back with her arms over the railing of the chair. I used another scarf to connect her feet and hands under the chair, so that her feet were now barely touching the ground and that her body was somewhat stretched backwards. I pretented I would go to sleep in her bed myself, but honestly I couldn’t get my eyes away as I had now a very nice look at her breasts. She started to behave as a real damsel in distress, not trying to tell any story any more but just moaning in her gag, testing the bonds. I still belief she could get out of it, but she didn’t. She kept seated on the chair, nipples stiffened, looking in my own direction for what seemed like hours but actually just lasted a couple of minutes. I untied the scarf that connected her bound feet and hands under the chair and I made her hop once again to the bed. As the bonds behind her back loosened I retied her hands in front of her but not before removing my own shirt to use it as a blindfold. I made her lie on her back, gagged and blindfolded now. I lowered her arms above her head and secured them to railing of the bed with the second scarf. She squirmed while moaning in her gag with her legs kicking towards where she tought I was standing. I couldn’t resist. I took her legs and slowly started to caress them starting at her feet but slowly going up towards her panties. She stopped the squirming but instead started to follow my movements with her own body. I was now again lieing next to her slowly going up to her bare belly. Although impeded by the bonds above her head she turned her chest so that her breasts touched my own skin. I was going nuts from excitement. I started to lick her body, starting at her neck (she was ticklish around the ears) and to fondle her body …

Still even in this arousement I refrained from going any further. Mental bells were ringing at some point. This was not my girlfriend and I had no intention to make her my girlfriend. I removed the blindfold and the gag. What followed was the weirdest intimate conversation I have ever had, as she was still tied to the bed. She showed little interest to be freed of to free her self although she requested a sheet to put over her almost naked body. She assured me that there was no need for apologies. I believed her in relation to the tieing up. But I still feel uncomfortable about the sexual undertone of the situation, or rather I still feel uncomfortable about my mixed signals (‘yes, I like your body, especially tied and gagged, but no, I don’t want to be your boyfriend’). I finally untied her somewhere near dawn. We fell asleep holding each other very close but without sexual intentions.

Re: A remedy for chatter

Postby xtc » Thu Aug 19, 2010 2:16 am

Don't apologise too much for your English. Some native speakers have written worse stuff not too far away!
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!

More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

Re: A remedy for chatter

Postby Fesselfan » Thu Aug 19, 2010 2:19 am

Indeed a really, really good first posting :-) Hope to hear more from you.

Cheers

FF
There are 10 kind of people in the world.
Those who understand binary numeral system, and those who don't.

Re: A remedy for chatter

Postby Plueschbabycd » Thu Aug 19, 2010 2:49 am

yes very good. I allso wand hear more.
Andrew
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show

Re: A remedy for chatter

Postby Jason Toddman » Thu Aug 19, 2010 8:08 am

If English is not your first language, in my opinion it does not show at all. Had you said nothing about that I'd have never guessed.
It's a rather a quiet and low key story, but that's purely personal taste on my part. It certainly is a well told story all in all. :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: A remedy for chatter

Postby raisondecoeur » Fri Aug 20, 2010 5:19 am

Thanks you all for the nice feedback. I should mention I was particulary pleased by Fesselfan's comment, as I really like his stories.