Laura · Part 3

Laura · Part 3 (3/3)
Previous

Laura’s hands worked skilfully against her torte denim chastity, whilst bucking her hips and scraping her nails over the sensitive lady parts inside her shorts, as she became more and more desperate to pleasure herself fully.

Working on the wire fencing, he looked at how impractical and uncomfortable one of the metal clamps that he fitted around each of the wooden fence posts would be. The sharp edges would cut into her skin within moments. Unless she wore boots, he thought. His mind then drifted to picturing her in thigh high heels, with a dog collar around her neck.

Crimping one of the stranded steel cables onto a post clamp, gave him the idea of lacing the boots with this difficult to cut metal wire, and joining her two legs together so she wouldn’t be able to run anywhere.

A search on his phone for ‘lace up leather’, gave pre-emptive results, before he could type in the word ‘boots’.

What about a corset? He thought, pressing on a picture of a lace up, black leather, waist-training image.

“That’s what I’ll give you my sweetheart," he satisfyingly mumbled to himself.

The rest of the morning seemed to be wasted ringing around women's clothing boutiques, explaining that he’d been given specific instructions by his wife on exactly what she wanted.

By midday, his truck arrived back at the cabin, with Mike excited to deliver the gift he’d bought for her.

Once again Laura stood in front of him with her hands cuffed, but with two different lengths of rope dangling from the thumb cuffs where she’d managed to cut the rope, using scissors, and escape its restriction.

When the couple kissed with her arms circled around his shoulders, he noticed, by the side of the television, the open case of the same DVD that she’d admitted had turned her on, to the point of masturbation, on the previous day.

Looking in the same direction as him, she smiled at being busted for pleasuring herself again.

“Sorry, I need to clean my teeth," she changed the subject, releasing him from her grip and holding her cuffed wrists in front of his face.

Taking the keys from his pocket, he un-cuffed her hands and allowed her to go use the bathroom alone, whilst he disappeared back out to his truck, to retrieve a coil of stranded fencing wire, and associated tools.

As she dried her mouth and hands, Mike approached her in the bathroom, to raise her top, so she would lift her arms and allow him to remove it.

A fresh minty kiss, ended with the offering of a white paper bag.

“Your present, my dearest.”

Excited, she opened the wrapping and held the laced up corset in front of her, inhaling a waft of its rich leather smell as she nodded in approval. “You’d like me to wear this?”

“I’d like to put it on you myself," he almost insisted, holding his hand out to take possession, once she’d finished admiring its quality.

Removing the standard cotton laces first, he wrapped the uncompromising garment around her waist, settling it low down below her chest, raising her pert breasts to present themselves before him.

Unable to see what he was doing, she turned her head, to catch a glimpse of a steel cable being unravelled from its small, plastic drum on the table behind her, and the unmistakable feel of it being threaded through the eyelets of her new, waist-training corset, behind her back.

“Can you lift your arms again for me please?”

Starting at the bottom holes, he pulled the two sides of the corset together, causing it to rise up above her hips, exposing a narrow strip of flesh around her midriff. The clinking of the handcuffs being woven onto the steel wire on the next two holes up, caused an excitable twitching between her legs.

“Oh God!” She said, making Mike smile and peep his head around to show her a look of delight.

“Don’t know what you mean," he joked, brushing off the obvious clanking of the metal in jest.

Pulling the wire tight after threading it through each hole, he stopped at the middle to wrap one loop of steel cable, all the way around her waist, then back through the next set of holes, before continuing the rest of the lacing up as normal, until he reached the top.

“Sorry, can you just step back a bit?" he asked, tugging lightly on the fastenings, to guide her closer to the table, where he reached for a metal crimp, and the crimping tool. A final draw on the wires at each side, ended with the jaws of the tool, sealing the security of the tension in the metal lacing, before he cut off the remainder of the unwanted ends.

“Holy shit," he swore, simply at what the corset had done to her figure, without commenting on its shining handcuff fashion accessories hanging down from behind.

Laura walked back into the bathroom to use the mirror and inspect the body modification that he’d given to her.

“Very nice," she initially approved, complementing the strained shape of her own slim hourglass curves.

The unexpected vision in the mirror was nothing but stunning. Her sculpted slender figure, forced into exaggeration by the tightness of the incorrectly sized shorts, led their way up to introducing the narrow waist of the leather corset, with her breasts hanging out over the top. Impressed by not having even the slightest of tummy folds, she looked higher to see her breasts heaving with each breath, because of the lower down constriction of her diaphragm.

The clothes she wore made her feel extra special, like she’d found a way of being tightly hugged and cared for by his on-looking from a distance, without any touching or exchanging of bodily fluids.

“Come here, Loverboy," she sang to him with a melody in her voice.

He tried rubbing his hands up and down her waist, but she planted her face on his with a soft ‘thankyou’ kiss, making it more convenient for him to put his arms around her instead.

“Put the cuffs on," she told him, now confident to breathe her clean breath in his face as she meaningfully spoke.

“What?" he asked.

“I’ll make it worth your while if you put the cuffs on and keep your arms locked around me like this for an extended lunch break.”

Mike smiled at her cute effort, and said nothing whilst contemplating, but finding no reason why he shouldn’t try out this suggestion of hers, that actually sounded like fun.

“Ok," he nodded, cuddling her from the front and ratcheting the cuffs comfortably closed one at a time around his own wrists.

“Where’s the key?" she asked.

“You had enough already?” he joked, “They’re in my pocket.”

Having her hands free, she searched him, and took out the two tiny keys, joined together using the flimsy keyring they’d been supplied with.

Stuffing the two little tickets to freedom, into the impossibly tight front pocket of her own shorts, she smiled and challenged him. “Can you reach them?”

“Erm, obviously not," he replied, making no effort to try.

“What about my bum cheeks?”

Pulling down hard against the cuffs and corset strings, his fingertips touched the rim of the tops of her back pockets.

“Not really.”

“How about my tits?”

Trying to spin the tight leather around her bare skin also proved to be out of the question.

“Nope," he confirmed, “Looks like you’re going to have to do all the work.”

“Does, doesn’t it?” She reached behind her head, removed her hair tie to release her ponytail, and let her long hair flow naturally down her back.

With the elasticated hair band tightly around her wrist, she unfastened Mike’s trousers and ordered him to step out of them. Next came his boxer shorts, leaving his socks on his feet, which wouldn’t matter for what the couple had in mind.

Looking down through what little gap having his arms locked around her, left between them, she stroked his erect cock, with her fingers, from the base, to the tip, then back down again, with the backs of her fingernails.

“Careful, it’s loaded," he joked.

“I can imagine,” she proudly complimented herself on being the sole reason for it being so hard in the first place.

Clenching the fingertips of her right hand, gently, with them evenly spread around the top of his scrotum, holding his balls in her palm, she quickly stretched the small, elastic band of a hair tie over her hand, to transfer ownership from her to him.

The shock of the snapping sound as it contracted around his ball sack and rolled up amongst his hairs, caused Mike to inhale a natural intake of breath.

Unable to hide his concern, he braved this painful act of what he thought must be her version of rough foreplay, by saying nothing.

Cupping his balls firmly in her right hand, where they could no longer retract back up inside him if things were to get too rough, she gently pulsed her fingers, enough to put the frighteners on him.

“We’re going to play a little game of truth or dare," she announced, “That’s where you’re going to tell me the truth, or I’m going to dare squeeze your balls.”

“You squeeze my balls and I’ll fucking hurt…”

“Aahh bub bub bub!” She pressed his moving lips closed with the fingers and thumbs of both hands, cutting short his irrelevant words of panic.

Once satisfied by his silence, she reached back down again and persuasively recaptured his most vulnerable parts in one hand.

“That brings me to my first question.”

Fortunately for his sanity, her eyes had a look of ecstasy rather than anything sinister, holding on to his trust, as well as holding on to his delicacy in her hand.

“Going forward. If we were to engage in a relationship, are you the sort of man who would ever harm a woman?”

“No. Of course not," he spluttered.

“Right answer.” She let go of his scrotum to continue her interrogation, “So in future, when we’re playing like this, do you agree that we won’t need to use safe words?”

“No. I mean yes. I agree. We should tell each other what we’re about to do before doing it, that way we won’t get disappointed if we’re being too adventurous.” The hint from his serious face of wanting to know her intentions, raised into a smile. “Although after doing this to me, you realise you are so unbelievably dead don’t you?”

“I’m looking forward to your method of discipline.” She grinned with a raised eyebrow.

“That means you’d better make this worthwhile," he almost dared her.

Touching his cock again, she noticed it wasn’t pulsing with as much enthusiasm as before, so reaching to the soap dispenser on the side of the bathroom sink, she pumped a squirt of lubrication into the palm of her hand.

“I think a little hand soap may be required for a little hand job.”

She committed to her offer by oiling up his shaft, and stroking along its length as Mike began breathing more comfortably, with his eyes now closed.

“Tell me how much trouble I’m in?” Her words of surrender requested no plea for leniency, even though she remained fully in charge, and in the strongest position to bargain a deal. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me when I release you?”

Using both hands, she slowed her action, circling around the tip of his cock with a dry finger and thumb, to ensure no soap entered down into him, the wrong way. “Or is it that you want me to stop?”

“NO!” His eyes opened, “Don’t stop.”

“Admit that you love me doing this," she teased him.

“Of course I love it," he exhaled, “But you’re still going to have to pay a price.”

Her hands continued sliding up and down his cock, as she questioned him further. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me first?”

“Don’t you concern yourself.” He brushed her off, not actually having a plan in mind. “Just expect to be disciplined.”

“How much discipline?” The thought of how many ways he could give her a ‘punishment fuck’, played havoc with her loins.

“Not saying.” Mike clearly didn’t want to talk, he just wanted her to finish him off.

“Well at least tell me for how long then?” Her endorphins sent her mind on a journey of imagining how long she could endure sex with him, before admitting defeat during her punishment.

“Until you have to leave later.” He looked into her eyes, showing his disappointment that this whirlwind relationship would have to end.

“Suppose I want to stay longer?” She hypnotically asked for an extension of their current affair.

“Then obviously your punishment will have to last longer.” His body being tipped over the edge by her offer of staying, could be heard in the unintentional pitch warble of his voice.

Noticeably close to ejaculation, she stopped for her final act of disobedience. “First, it’s your turn to tell me that you love me," she teased him, in revenge for doing exactly the same to her, when he had her cuffed to the banister, on the previous evening.

Caught in her trap with his trousers down, so to speak, he meaninglessly blurted out the words, “Of course I love you,” resulting in Laura returning a gratified smile, and him finally receiving a kind ending to her sexual torment.

Her experienced hands gently massaged his member, whilst purposely aiming it and stepping out of the way of her sexual achievement, watching in fun, at how far she could fire his semen train across the tiled floor.

Fishing one handed in the top of her front pocket, she took out the handcuff keys, at the same time as her recently rinsed, cold, wet hand cupped his hair-bobble-choked ball sack, for one final time.

“I hope I’ve earned enough de-merits to get what I deserve," she said, reaching up behind her back and handing over custody of the keys.

The cuffs came open with ease, releasing Mike’s wrists, and letting him close the unoccupied manacles one at a time behind her back, to keep them tidy before their next use.

“You’re probably going to be spending a bit of time in these, so you might want to consider going to the toilet for a while first. Save me having to wipe you clean later, if you see where I’m coming from.”

Convinced this meant anal sex would be part of her retribution, she removed her shorts with her underwear and walked over to the toilet, giving him the opportunity to observe how the sides of the corset were shaped down lower at the hips, complementally framing the upper curvature of her bare behind.

He couldn’t help imagining the vision of a red welt running horizontally across both cheeks, from the cruel swish of a garden cane, but as she turned to sit on the toilet, he shivered at the thought of ever harming those cute plump fruits of her fleshy globes, that he would soon be inheriting the responsibility of owning.

In the corner of the kitchen area, Mike removed the elasticated hair tie from around his scrotum, with a pair of scissors, and surgical precision, shaking his head and smiling at Laura when she appeared dressed again, in front of him.

“I’ll make lunch if you want," she offered, “But first, do you mind if I call my Mum, and tell her that I might be staying a bit longer?”

“Are you serious?” The look of delight, mirrored in each of their faces.

Laura shrugged in response, urging Mike, who remained naked from the waist down, to throw himself at her.

Overhearing her phone call, in which she mentioned looking for work up here, Mike warmed vegetable soup for the two of them to eat, welcoming her to sit down, when she’d hung up the call.

The liquid lunch convinced her paranoid mind that he wanted her anal passage to remain soft, for his ease of access, putting her off her food at the thought, and just wanting it to be over.

“Why am I still dressed?” She placed her spoon on the table at the side of her bowl, having had enough.

Considering the forbidden nature of what a gentleman shouldn’t be doing to a lady, Mike made the suggestion, “We should really make up some sort of consent before going any further.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He picked his phone off the table and turned it to video mode. “Say something into the camera like you consent to sex in these handcuffs unless one of us thinks there is a justified reason for their immediate removal, or make up whatever rules you want.”

“Hi, this is Laura.” She waved at the phone in his hand. “We are making a video to show my consent of wearing these; what can I say? Sex bracelets.”

She turned around to present the gleaming handcuffs just above the small of her back, swinging happily from the striking metal laces, holding her leather corset around her in a wasp-like figure. “And just to prove it, I’ll put them on, without duress.”

Standing with her back straight, she folded her arms behind her, looking like a submissive woman, who’d been brought up at a strict school that taught her how to stand properly to attention. Although impressive, this pose had come about only by coincidence.

Her hands fumbled blindly with the cuffs until they were both cranked open, and she could position her wrists comfortably enough to accept the manacles. Because of the height that the cuffs had been interwoven within the corset’s metal lacing, Laura found it easier to position her right wrist, on her left hand side, and her left wrist on her right side, crossing her arms behind her so that they rested parallel to one another.

Curious of how this would feel, she hurriedly clicked the first cuff closed, but had to push her elbows out a little and angle her arms up slightly, to cross her wrists, and close the second cuff successfully.

Pleased with this achievement, she turned to the camera, and asked, “Want to check them?”

Thinking she’d finished, Mike paused the recording, but held the lens facing her as she began mumbling a little more.

“Having my hands released will be at my request. Agreed?”

Still without recording, he turned the phone around to simulate filming his part in this arrangement. “Possibly a little late for that now.” He laughed. “But yes. Fully agreed.”

Raising her eyebrows and tossing her head over her shoulder, signalled to Mike for him to turn the camera back onto her, which he did, with an unseen slide of hand onto the record button again.

“However,” she continued with her terms, this time using a more seductive tone. “Because I intend on being totally irresistible to you, I’m willing to hand over any rights of demanding freedom, to your responsibility and judgement.”

Mike stood perfectly still, unable to believe the value of what he was documenting.

“But on one condition.”

Now this he had to hear. “Ok. Name it!”

“You have to commit to being mine.”

Stunned at what he’d just recorded, Mike stopped the camera filming.

“Wow.” He looked at the ground and shook his head in disbelief of her proposal. “You’re willing to hand over your freedom to me, in return for my devotion. Like being a married couple?”

“To have and to hold.” She smiled, shaking her shoulders with her hands locked behind her back. “I know we’ve only just met, but look how alike we are, and the secrets we’ve already accrued together.” Laura gave him a giddy twirl. “What do you say?”

She craned her neck to gauge his reaction, rattling her wrists cuffs before his eyes. “Seems like you’ve already captured all of me, so tell me how I can capture all of you?”

“I think I might be falling in love with a mad woman?” He shook his head with a smile, trying to drift away from the subject of marriage.

“I sincerely hope so," she initially accepted, “Not so much a mad woman, but a girl who can tell that you’re attracted to these dangerously trusting situations I’m prepared to put myself into, just to keep you interested.”

“You’re right.” His hands explored the narrowest part of her waist by forming a circle with his fingers and thumbs around it. “You are so stunning," he admitted, “And your submissive traits have definitely got me hooked.”

He knelt down on the floor in front of her.

“Not to mention how fucking sexy you look right now.”

His face stared directly at the bulges of her lady-lips, throwing his imagination into a frenzy of how tight her slit must be inside the compacting shorts, continually having her genitalia so obediently squeezed together by the constraints of the relentless cloth.

“I could unload in my pants right now," he began confessing his fantasy aloud, “Simply at the thought of how virgin things could feel in here.” His hands strayed onto her bum cheeks as he spoke into her crotch, “If only I could harness such a niche tightness for the next time we make love.”

“Really? I thought that’s what you were hinting at earlier when you told me to empty my back passage.” She smiled and walked her groin into his face, causing him to tighten his grip on her buttocks for support, so he didn’t fall over backwards. “You don’t have to ask me which hole you want to fuck, I just want our sex to be spontaneous, and wild.”

“Oh you’re wild alright," he enshrined her with lust, “There’s nothing right now you could do to stop me wanting you.”

“Well as you’re on your knees, why don’t you give me that proposal, so we can seal our arrangement?”

Not knowing how he should respond, he looked up from between her legs with a friendly, devilish smile.

“You’d have to be a more serious submissive to tempt me into anything like that.”

“Teach me then.” She stepped back so he could regain his balance on his knees again, “I want to learn all about your fantasies so I can become your only temptation.”

“I think I can commit to that," he stood up on his feet to challenge her, “If you can remain like this for the rest of your stay.”

Unable to find reason to decline giving this suggestion a try, she first threw back a minor safety concern.

“Suppose I need a temporary reprieve?”

“No problem," he happily agreed, “It’ll just cost you another twenty four hours.”

“Ha. Twenty four hours of extra time?” She chose to disguise her nerves with a chuckle, now unable to argue with him, for fear of being penalised.

“Ok, but only if during this extended period, we agree that you’re not allowed to touch me.” The look on her face showed that of one-upmanship, after ruling to deny him of any physical temptation.

Lacking the ability to shake hands, the couple kissed on their new arrangement, after which Laura extended her approval to this last minute amendment with a girly giggle.

Ecstatic, and with his hands on her shoulders, he locked his stare onto her timid smile. “And if we feel the same way after you teasing me for a week, then I’ll propose the question to my ‘One and only temptation’.”

“A week?” Laura smiled, “I’m pretty sure I can cope with a week of you slaving over me, and catering for my every need, especially if it ends with an outcome that I can’t possibly refuse.” She smiled. “By the way, I was only joking about you not being able to touch me.”

Bending his knees between her legs, he lifted her behind, inviting her to wrap her thighs around his hips, so he could carry her off to the bed and take advantage.

His manner of laying her down on the bed, accidently crushed the handcuffs beyond their limits with a muffled grunt of rapid clicks from within the bedding behind her back.

“AAH! FUCK!” she shouted, instinctively bending her knees, and planting her feet on the mattress to lift her pelvis off the bed.

This sudden upward thrusting of her crotch raised her pubic bone to become the highest part of her body, presenting her prominent mound in front of his face, with the enhancing cleft of stitching nestling its way through the crevice of her fanny lips.

“They’re too tight!” she cried, “Take them off!”

“Yes, they do seem pretty tight from where I’m looking," he sarcastically replied, reaching up to the button of her shorts.

“No! The fucking cuffs!”

“I know you mean the cuffs, I heard them tightening.”

Lowering his head with the premise of a kiss, his nose irresistibly sniffed air through the tight denim, curious to detect any hormonal shifts in her damp musk, brought about by this huge adrenaline rush.

Crouching back on his haunches, he edged his knees under her buttocks to support the weight of his panic-stricken captive, on his thighs.

Beginning with his fingers curled behind the narrowing of her waist, and his thumbs stroking the thin strip of exposed flesh near her naval, he slid his hands all the way up her ribcage, to bring her slumped breasts together from either side.

“But in my opinion, I think it’s far too soon to be considering any sort of reprieve.” He patronised her by staring only at her tits as he spoke, concluding his insult with a disrespectful burying of his face into her forced cleavage, before looking up for her approval of his abusive fun.

Interrupting this dominant pleasure with her annoyed daggers for eyes, she snapped his conscience back into a sense of responsibility.

Conceding, and more importantly, without hurting her leg, he carefully rolled the two of them over, so that he lay on his back, with her doughy breasts defenceless against squashing onto his chest.

Dutifully, he forced two fingers into each of the cuffs, to prove she’d been panicking about nothing.

“They feel fine to me.” He brushed off her valid complaint by moving both hands on to squeeze the firmness of her bum cheeks. Taking advantage, he slipped one hand forward from behind, between her legs, and smiled at her as a reminder that she could do nothing to stop him.

“You know I’m in the lakes in ten days time," he reminded her, “And now you’ve handed your, shall we call it, ‘waiver of release’ over to being at my discretion, I’m just wondering how many more days of extra time I can force on to you, so that you’ll have to come with me?”

“That’s not what we agreed.”

“Would you like me to play back the video recording?”

Content with his hand still touching her, she reluctantly accepted a kiss, which ended her disagreeing, but opened up the opportunity for her to focus on making her actions count, by pressing herself against his face and attempting to swallow his tongue.

Firm hands gripping her tighter gave the impression that her oral lovemaking seemed to be working, until he twisted away to shatter her hopes.

“You’d be wrong in thinking those irresistibly sweet tasting lips of yours are a good weapon of defence.” He confused her with his unusually complimentary comment. “When the reality is, they’ve just earned you a sentence of staying cuffed up as you are, until our business is finished in the lakes.”

“A month!” She pulled hard, multiple times against the overtightened cuffs about her wrists. “Are you fucking joking?”

“A month and ten days," he corrected her. “You’re going to love the isolated remoteness of where we’ll be staying.”

Laura · Part 3 (3/3)
Previous