Postby KP Presents » Tue Jun 17, 2014 2:24 am
Mum had changed into the most amazing black lace bra and panties, with a suspender belt holding up sheer black stockings. She looked at me as I came in, and grinned at my completely involuntary reaction.
“So the big bad kidnapper has brought me a meal,” she said as she sat in a chair, “I guess that means he has to tie me to the chair and feed me.”
“I thought role play day was tomorrow,” I said as I put the box down, and then guided her hands behind her back, securing them together with some rope before I tied them to the chair itself.
“Well, I thought I may get an early start,” she said as I tied one end of a long length of rope to the chair where the back met the seat, and then lashed her upper body in place, taking the rope around her chest and the wooden back rest. I then knelt down and tied her ankles together, securing them to the front leg, and then her legs below her knees.
“OH my,” she purred – yes, purred – as she sat there, “you’re going to have to feed me.”
“I guess I will,” I said as I pulled up a chair, and we shared the food, me putting it into her mouth and watching as she slowly chewed, and I did the same with mine.
In a media studies class at school, we were shown a scene from an old film called Tom Jones, in which the title character and a woman shared a meal. We were asked at the time to comment on what might be going through their minds while they ate and drank, and I remember making a note at the time about how much they seemed to be enjoying the food – more than you would normally think someone would.
Of course, when it got to the point where the actor cleared the food off the table and – aw, you get the picture, and we did as well. But I had no idea just how arousing such a simple thing as eating food could be – until I watched my mum doing it.
And that was the problem right then – if it had been Sam, then no problem. But I knew the effect watching her was having on me, and it was my mum for goodness sake! I mean, I wanted to help her unwind and relax, but…
She smiled as she took a drink of her milk shake – she could see the struggle I was having as well. “Something wrong, Mark,” she said as she looked down.
“NO – no, I’m fine, “ I said with a smile, before she said “I’ve had enough – I guess the bad kidnapper is going to have to keep me quiet now while he goes and gets the ransom.”
“Quiet – right,” I said as I looked round, and picked up a bandana, folded it into a pad and then put it in my mum’s mouth, before I wound the white tape we use tightly round her head. She then glanced down her body, and looked at me.
I gulped and then stood behind her, slowly starting to massage her chest as she closed her eyes and moaned softly. As I felt them getting firmer, I closed my eyes and started so very hard to think of anything except her moans, and the way they made me feel as well.
“Mysyssssgddddd,” she mumbled, so I kept going, her moans and soft calls increasing as she started to move in response to me. Eventually, I had her chest so firm, her nipples so hard, that she nodded and mumbled “Lfmmlnnnw.”
I didn’t need an excuse – I needed to go and take care of something myself anyway, so I left her to her dreams and retreated to the bathroom, and then to my own room.
When I eventually returned, having changed, Mum was sitting with her head down, but she looked at me as I came in and nodded. I then untied her, as she hugged me and said “thank you Mark – now you relax, I’m going to fix dinner, and we can watch a movie together.”
“Sure Mum,” I said as I lay down, and put the television on. They were showing a soccer game, so I watched that while Mum put an apron on over her lingerie, and started to prepare some spaghetti Bolognese.
Hey – if you’re only wearing boxers, that dish can be perfect, because you won’t stain any clothes!
Anyway, once we had finished I took a couple of beers from the fridge, and we just relaxed, watching a movie as we drank from the bottles.
“Hey,” Mum eventually said, “you haven’t told me what sort of role play you would like to do tomorrow.”
“Well,” I said quietly, “I’m not sure if you would want to do one of them.”
“The idea is we help each other – I’ve told you one of mine, what’s one of yours?”
“A female cat burglar – she ties me to the bed, gags me, and then…”
“Ah,” Mum said, “Well, we shall see – you see, the second one I have in mind requires a few toys I brought with me…”
When I woke up the next morning, I had a shower, and then put on some black jeans and a sweater before heading into breakfast. Mum wasn’t up yet, so I started the coffee pot and sorted out some pastries.
“So, how do I look?”
As I turned round, I let out a low whistle when is aw the first outfit she was wearing. She had on a high collared Western style blouse, with long sleeves, and a long crinoline skirt with black lace up ankle boots.
“Very Perils of Pauline,” I said as I looked at her. “Makes me wish I had a top hat and false moustache.”
“You’re fine as you are,” she said with a laugh as she sat at the breakfast bar. “We take turns – once you’ve done my roleplay, I do yours, and so on.”
“Agreed,” I said as I passed some coffee over. “So we’ll take a trip down to the old sawmill after breakfast.”
“Well, once you have me prepared,” Mum said with a sly smile. “I brought an old fashioned cloak with a hood as well – the sort that covers arms and conceals heads.”
“How fortunate,” I said as I brought breakfast over…
An hour later, Mum was sitting in the front room when I walked in and laughed in an appropriately threatening manner. Think Jack Lemmon in the Great Race – but without the acting talent.
“Oh no,” Mum said as she held her hands up in surprise, “what do you want, Lord Mark?”
“You know what I want, my dear,” I said – and I even pretended to twirl a moustache – “to have you as my bride and your lands in my hands.”
“No – I will never do what you ask.”
“If you do not, then you will regret it,” I said as I walked towards her.
“No – please, I cannot marry you, my heart is given to another.”
“Then nobody can have you,” I said as I made her stand and crossed her wrists in front of her, tying them together with rope. “No please – don’t do this,” Mum squealed as I then took a long white scarf, and held it in my hands.
“I told you, nobody can have you,” I said, and as she opened her mouth to protest I pulled the scarf between her lips, wrapping it twice round her head before tying the ends together at the base of her neck.
“Whtruggntddd,” Mum mumbled as I fastened the cloak, over her, and pulled the hood up over her head.
“You’ll see – MWWWAHHAHHAHAHHHAAAAAAAA,” I cackled as I put my arm round her and we walked out of the cabin, along the lake side to where the saw mill was.
When we arrived I pushed open the door and allowed the dust to settle before I walked Mum in. The place was deserted, but I could see the old conveyer belt, with a tree trunk split in half lengthways, the flat surface up.
“Will you marry me, my dear?” I said as I looked at Mum, who shook her head in defiance.
“Very well,” I said as I lifted her up and laid her on the flat part of the log, then tied her ankles tightly together before I fed rope under her legs and pulled them together, the skirt gathering above her knees. Another band under her waist, and a third under her body and around her arms, held her there as much as the fear of rolling off, before I looked at her.
“Comfy?”
“LTLTTMMGGGGG!” she screamed through the gag as she looked at me.
“I give you fifteen minutes to change your mind,” I said as I looked round, “before I cut you off – permanently.”