The Opening Line · Part 1 (1/2)
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“Can I buy you another?” He asked me. It was the third line he spoke to me since sitting uninvited in the corner booth I was seated. Had it have been his opener I would’ve told him to take a hike, but it was not.
“Stand up.” I gave as my reply. His head fell a bit as he slid from the thickly padded vinyl covered seat.
“I’m sorry I bothered you. At least you didn’t slap me.” Said the man who appeared to be about six-foot-two and a build that matched his height.“I said stand, not leave. I should do both with an opening line you offered, but, it also intrigued me.” I told him. “Strawberry margarita. I hope the bartender can make that better than my last two drinks. Yes, you may join me.” I said as he gazed at me seeming puzzled.
“Thank you; I sure will.” He said reseating himself then raising his arm to catch the attention of a server.
“I take it you haven’t had too many hits, other than open-handedly across your cheek, with this current pick-up line?” I asked.
“None. And yes, I have been slapped more than a few times when I used it.” He responded.
“It is a bit crude and assuming.” I paused. “And, to me, amusing and interesting. What was it… My cock, your pussy, what a wonderful combination?!” I said and repeated his opener.
“Word for word. Good memory. By the way, my name’s Thom.” He said, offering his hand over the table.
“Thank you. Mandy.” I shook the hand on the end of the arm not straight up in the air, waiting to be noticed by a server.
“Gin and tonic for me and a strawberry margarita for the lady please. Tell the bartender to make it his best please.” Thom said to server who finally acknowledged his request for service.
“You better check yourself before you wreck yourself Thomas… ” I started in reference to his opening line “… you may be biting off more than you can chew.” I finished.
“Oh really?!” Thom replied lifting one eyebrow as he looked at me.
“I can be a bit of a vixen among other things.” I teased.
“And that should worry me because…?” He replied. Again emanating an air of cockiness.
I reached in my purse and pulled out a pair of tactical-black handcuffs and slid them across the table to him.
“Put ‘em on.” I said returning his cockiness.
Thom looked at the hinge-connected hoops of steel which stopped sliding inches from his interlaced-fingered hands queerly.
“Huuhh?” Came his reply.
“You heard me… put ‘em on.” I said a little more demanding than last time.
“Do you have the key?” He asked.
“That’s not your concern.” I said smartly.
“It is once they’re on my wrists.” He rebutted almost sounding scared.
The server brought our drinks, looking oddly at what she noticed sitting where she begun to set Thom’s drink. She looked me in the eyes as she set my drink in front of me, back at Thom, shrugged her shoulders and picked up the cash Thom placed on the table for the drinks and tip, then moved on to the next patron requesting her attention.
“What matters is just how much of a wonderful combination there is.” Was my reply to his concern about a key.
He took a sip of his cocktail and looked back down at the cuffs awaiting his attention.
“Those are real Mandy. Once on, no off without the key.” He said with a slight crack to his voice.
“I know that… ” I said sounding somewhat condescending, “… and the ankle set is still in my purse. Put the handcuffs on if you wish to continue… if not… thank you for the drink.” I finished with a demand now. “Like I said, a vixen among other things.”
I could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as his eyes glanced several times between me and the matte finished steel on the table before him.
“What happens if I put these on?” He asked, stopping his gaze on the cuffs and not at me.
“Hmmm.” Was all I replied and caressed my upper chest with a finger.
“In front or behind?” He asked as one hesitant finger run across the steel forming one side of the pair.
“I’m not holding your drink up for you to finish.” I replied sarcastically.
Thom gave me one final glance, not only my face and eyes mind you, before metal-against-wood made its muffled clinking sound. “Key holes up please.” I said as he picked them up and looked closer at them. Insuring the notched circle opening faced his forearm, the first cuff ratcheted around his wrist. The other cuff emitted its rapid-fire clicking and Thom’s wrists were held only inches apart and unable to twist.
“Good. It seems we may test the theory of your initial proposition after all. Sip your drink Thom. We may have another before blowing this dive.” I said, then “What’s your cock thinking of this Thomas?”
“I’m guessing it’s not arguing at the moment. Trying to check out the situation a bit actually.” He said, a slight blush of red on his cheeks leaving me a bit surprised considering his hopeful ice-breaking first contact.
“Figured as much. Honestly… ” I said, then, leaning closer over the table between us, “… I leaked a little when the cuffs closed.” I admitted to the first man to not run at being asked to cuff themselves as a requirement to leave the bar as one.
We finished our drinks and ordered another; talking, not of what was to come, but, of what has been. We got to know each other and before long Thom had seemed to forget he was handcuffed at all. He seemed as natural in the quite restrictive cuffs as a cowboy on his horse. We talked like old friends as we walked from the booth in the farthest corner from the door, a few other patrons catching a glimpse of Thom’s shackled wrist, but, much fewer than had they been nickel finished.
“Okay Mandy… how am I supposed to drive like this?” He asked holding the steel binds up in front of him.
“You’re not… silver Mazda.” I replied as the lights flashed on my car when I pushed the fobs unlock button.
“My car!” He said.
“Will be fine until tomorrow.” I said and followed him to the passenger side of my car.
“You worried about nothin’” Holding up the key to the cuffs to show him. “Hands.”
Thom held his hands up to me. I removed one cuff. “Turn around.”
“You’re cuffing me in the back?” He asked.
“And shackling your ankles.” I giggled.
After reattaching the cuff I removed in order to put his arms behind him, I double-locked the handcuffs and secured his ankles in steel as well. I turned him back around. His face fell ghost white as he realized I stared unzipping his pants.
“Whaa…?” He tried to begin.
“Shhh.” I hushed.
He was a rock as I slid my hand through his fly and snaked it through the opening in his underwear. I worked his member out through the holes I worked my hand into only moments before. I lowered myself in a wide spread squat and lightly kissed the now throbbing glans tipping his slightly larger than average cock. I took the tip in my mouth and tongued around the opening centered in his circumcised man-hood. His moans begun in a trice. One deep thrust of my mouth burying his endowment as far as his pants would allow and I pulled back slowly, increasing the suction as I did. Deeper moans escaping his lips. I gave the head a sucking pop as I removed my mouth from him and stood up.
“I’d say that’s enough PDA for now… wouldn’t you? No need for those cuffs to be out of my control by the police.” I said and helped Thom into my car as a cop does into theirs.
I fastened his seatbelt, making sure to brush his still liberated cock with my forearm as I did. I closed his door, walked to my own and slid in; ensuring my skirt rose high enough to reveal that my panties had actually been left at home. Thom had not missed my Paris Hilton impersonation.
“Nice Beaver.” Thom complimented.
Unable to help myself, I offered a close, but not exact, recital of Pricilla Presley’s line in Police Squad to the same comment; “Thanks, I need to get it stuffed.” And laughed loudly.
I guessed Thom had never seen the movie as the comment seemed to garner no real reaction other than being puzzled at my reaction to my own comment.
“I’ll try not to get pulled over and have to explain a handcuffed and shackled man with his prick sticking through his fly to the police.” I laughed out again, the thought having must’ve just crossed Thom’s mind causing him to pale then blush as quickly as an octopus or cuddle-fish changing their chromatophores. I pulled out a leather blindfold and fastened it over Thom’s eyes.
“Hey!” Thom shouted. “What the fu… ” He started to ask as I cut him off.
“Privacy Thom. If things work out we may get together again. But, for now, you don’t need to know where I live.” I stated.
“Why am I cuffed up in your car Mandy?” Thom asked as I executed a cautious left turn from the packed parking lot of the bar and onto the busy four-lane fronting it.
“I told you. I’m playful and adventurous with a little fetish desire mixed in.” I answered.
“No. Why am I in your car period? It’s apparent by your lack of womanly covering you planned for something to happen tonight but, why I out of a bar packed with other guys?” He asked and commented.
“Oh… you mean this?” I asked, lifting my soft and subtle black lamb-skin mid-thigh skirt; once again revealing myself; bare of cloth or pubic covering. “I’m not a slut or anything of the sort but I rarely wear panties in a bar or anywhere else.” I informed. “As for the why, if it hadn’t been for your unique opener I would have told you to take a hike. It, and your bluntness, intrigued me. It left no room for misconstrued intent of expectations and I had to see just how ballsy a man willing to use it actually was.” I explained.
“I meant no disrespect by your lack of panties… I find it extremely hot and sexy as I’m sure any man interested in women would.” He said apologetically.
“No offense taken. I did, however, want to set the record straight that I dress like this more-often-than-not and regularly leave alone.” I replied.
I navigated my Mazda through the streets separating my house from the bar, cautiously, aware that the six ounces of spirits I ingested may slightly hamper my reflexes though I was sure the time-span of consumption had allowed adequate time for my liver to metabolize the alcohol and I was under the legal limit to drive. The rest of the drive went pretty much in silence and I could tell my passenger was still somewhat tense about the odd situation and his obvious vulnerability.
I pulled into the drive of my house, parked the car and shut off the engine; releasing the buckle of Thom’s and my own seatbelts after removing the keys from the ignition. I exited my car and walked around and opened the passenger-side door; Thom’s hands being much too restricted to perform the procedure himself.
“Get out.” I said as I reached for his arm to help.
“Like this!?” He asked, motioning with his head down at his now semi-flaccid cock and balls, still open to the elements or gazes of others through his open zipper.
“Thom. I tongued and engulfed your member next to a busy four-lane road with far more gazing eyes than there are here. Get out of the car.” I said with a light-hearted giggle, pointing out how publicly-open to being caught in the act of lude and lascivious conduct we actually were.
He let me assist him in gaining his feet and walked to front entrance to my home; the connected links between his ankles tinkling merrily upon the concrete drive in the night’s quietness of the almost late hour.
I led Thom to my living room where I once again withdrew the keys to his restraints. I removed the blindfold and his restraints.
“Would you like a drink? Sorry, I can’t stomach gin but I have a very nice bottle of cognac which I only open upon very special occasions. Tonight just may qualify.” I asked as I invited him to relax on the davenport or a recliner.
“Why’d you cuff me for the ride and remove them here? And yes, I would love a few sips of cognac thank you.” He asked and accepted.
“I had to test how open and receptive you really were to my desires for bondage. What level of trust you were willing to give. You could’ve refused at anytime you know?” I said informingly.
“What, and miss out on fine cognac?” He said smiling.
I returned his smile and backed the wet-bar in my living room, pouring a hundred and fifty dollars of caramel-colored liquid into each glass.
“You are the first guy-friend I have offered this to.” I said handing him his glass and sat across from him, quite un-ladylike considering my immodest attire one might add.
“Someone with your looks should have no problem luring guys Mandy.” Thom avowed.
“You’d be surprised.” I countered.
“Why’s that?” He asked seeming somewhat shocked.
“Most excuse themselves quite quickly when I slide the cuffs toward them, not to be seen again.” I admitted. “It’s my first test.”
“Test of what? Willingness for bondage?” He questioned.
“Bondage is not only about a fetish form of sex for me Thom. It establishes a level of trust which I believe essential before pressing the sheets with someone. If a man is unwilling to trust me enough to offer himself defenseless to me, I won’t lower my defenses to him.” I explained.
“If I am not being to presumptuous or prying to ask, how many men have you caught with your wiles before tonight?” Thom asked somewhat bashfully.
“One.” I admitted.
“Where is he now?” Thom asked.
“He Ran for the hills when I went to move the cuffs from the front to the back. Lost a pair of cuffs in the mix I might add.” I replied laughingly.
“He literally ran?” Thom laughed and casually sipped from his glass.
“Like a bat out of hell. Never gave me a chance to remove the other cuff. Poof. He was gone.” I confirmed barely able to prevent myself from an all out chortle.
“How many women has received your not-so-subtle opener may I ask?” I queried.
“One.” He retorted as I had to his inquiry.
“And how’d that go? Where is she?” I riposte.
“I’ll tell you in the morning, but it looks good so far.” He responded, stealing Tom Cruise’s quip from Top Gun.
“I’ll be a proper hostess and ask you if you would like a refresher, but, in all honesty I am horny as shit and need to have an itch scratched.” I offered.
“I’ll be your huckleberry.” Thom offering yet another movie line. This time being Tom Cruise’s competitor in Top Gun in the role of Doc Holliday in Tombstone.
“Do you always speak in movie quotes Thom? I asked.
“Only when a bit drunk actually. Sorry, if it bothers you I’ll stop.” He said apologetically.
“Just wondering… and it doesn’t. Have a quarter?” I said then asked.
“Yep. Not much good for a phone call these days though.” He said as he reached into his pocket eyeing me questioningly. I took the quarter he offered.
“Heads or tails.” I offered.
“For what?” He asked.
“Loser gets tied first.” I answered.
“I get to tie you up too?!” He asked thoroughly surprised.
“You took the ride and offered your trust to me. It’s not all about me and I must reciprocate with my trust to you.” Giving him a response to the affirmative.
“This night just keep getting better at each turn. Tails.” He responded with excitement.
I flipped the silver circle of metal into the air and allowed it to land on the carpet where we could both verify its inanimate decision. The coin landed with its obverse pointing downward.
“Best two out of three?” I joked.
“Huh.” Thom released questioningly.
“Just kidding. I lost the toss; you get to use me first. Let’s go to my game room.” I said taking him by the hand. “By the way, why’d you put away Mr. Lovejoy?” I asked.
“Force of habit I guess.” He said when as he accepted mine.
I led Thom out the back door of my abode and toward a bungalow in the rear yard of the house. Unlocking and opening the door to the small outbuilding, I reached in and turn the lights on then raised their adjustable level to full intensity. I led Thom into the, much more spacious looking on the inside than from the outside, room.
“It used to be a pool changing room but the previous owner had the pool filled in for some stupid reason. So I converted the place into my own personal… uh… dungeon so to speak.” I explained before he could ask about the buildings purpose.
“I see.” He said gazing around the room at the several pieces of ‘special-use’ furniture I used to equip the room with.
“The dresser over there contains the necessary bindings and toys to make each piece fully functional. Not to be a spoil-sport or anything; but, I have each drawer in some semblance of organization, so please try to return them from the place you got them.” I remarked.
“Yes ma’am.” He said as he walked between different items of differing positional restraint and level of discomfort.
“I’m going to empty my bladder while I still have the chance. Feel free to look around and check things out. If you have questions about the furniture and its use or the toys in the drawers, feel free to ask.
I left to do my thing and him to do his. I relieved my bladder then relieved my body of its coverings. When I re-entered the room, my reaction time had returned just enough to catch the head-harness ball-gag combo he had tossed to me.
“Really? And I hoped so much to use my tongue a little more.” I said using my best feminine wile voice.
“Yes, really, but first… ” He said holding up a pair of clover clamps with a look of ‘what are these’ on his face.
“Are you serious? Boy you are a bondage-naïve individual, aren’t you?” I said somewhat mockingly.
“Other than silk scarves and neck-ties with an early girl-friend, yes I am.” He said with a smile.
“Self-tightening clamps. Used on nipples or… lower. The more you pull on those rings once they are on, the tighter they clamp to prevent slipping or being pulled off. Moderate to quite painful.” I explained. “I have some with a permanent chain attached between them as well.” I added.
“And this?” He asked opening a silver aluminum case he placed on the dresser.
“It’s for a little more advanced play. It’s called a Violet Wand. Those attachments you see are glass so be careful with them please.” I cautioned.
“Too advanced for tonight? Thom asked.
“There is nothing in this room that I will consider to be off-limits Thomas. However, some can be a little dangerous if used improperly. If you don’t ask while I can still answer, please use some form of discretion before using them if you are not sure of how to use it.” I said as I removed the base of the Violet Wand and attached the large globe accessory to it. I plugged it in and brought it to life with the flip of the switch. The attachment lit up in a soft purple glow.
“There is a dial on the bottom… ” I showed him the upturned base “… that adjusts the intensity level. Also, the smaller the area of glass next to the skin, the sharper the pain the shock will deliver. The glass does not need to touch the skin; only be close enough for the arc to jump the space between.” I taught him.
“Try me.” Thom said holding out his arm.
He jerked his arm away as the miniature bolt of electricity from the globe jumped to his arm.
“Owe… interesting.” He said. “Do you like it?” He asked.
“Of course that depends on the size of the tip, the intensity level, and the location it is used. But in the bondage and domination world it is not always about what you like Thom. It also depends upon the sadism of the person playing the Top.” I responded.
“The Top?” He inquired.
“The dominant person. The person doing the restraining and in charge of the one known as the bottom. Roles, remember, that will reverse at some point… and… what’s good for the goose is good for the gander Sir.” Explaining the roles and dropping a small word of warning to him. “The biggest thing to remember when Topping someone is to monitor them. Though you are in control of the Bottom, the Bottom is in control of the scenario. If it gets to be too painful or fearful, the Bottom can use their ‘safe-word’ to stop the play and be checked on. Trust, Thom, is the most important thing when you render yourself to the control of another. Break the trust and play ends forever. Understand?!”
“Turn that off and put on the gag.” He demanded jumping head-long into the role of Master.
“No so fast sir. First; I stand for no bodily excretions during my play. As I do swallow, that does not include cum. I also swallow tongue so that doesn’t include saliva. But anything else is strictly prohibited. Second; if you hear me begin to hum the Star-Spangled Banner… everything ceases immediately. If I am not gagged I will say the title. This is my safe-word should the bottom feel unsafe or in too much pain. Under absolutely no circumstances will this be ignored anymore than a girl refusing normal sex with the word ‘no’. The utterance of the safe-word is the line between consensual and non-consensual play. Are you clear on that?!” I explained my few rules and asked with the last exertion of authority I expect to have for the next while to come.
“I understand and concur whole-heartedly.” He assured.
“I’m not kidding and take safe-play very seriously Thom. In the bdsm world, we have a creed; Safe, Sane, Consensual. No matter how deeply in the role or how much you want to finish what you are doing everything ceases immediately upon the first sign of the safe-word being uttered. It is why it is so obscure to sexual activity. No ‘well I thought… ’.” I reiterated.
“Believe me Mandy. I want this night to be fun and memorable… and… hopefully not our last. I will not do anything to cause you to no longer offer me your trust.” Thom said and I knew from the tone of his voice he was being nothing but sincere.
I inserted the ball in my mouth without a further word to show, both, that I believed him and to follow his earlier demand as his subservient. As I buckled the straps about my head Thom stripped himself of clothing. His prick once again standing at full attention.
The Opening Line · Part 1 (1/2)
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