Locks · Part 2 (2/2)
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ck for that extra time, and my mouth filled with a gag that seemed bigger with each passing hour.
I was in that strange heavenly hell of ever-increasing need to move my arms, which led to ever-increasing arousal at the impossibility of meeting such a basic need. It made me intensely aware of my whole body, feeling the aches and tingles in limbs that once upon a time I had taken for granted.
Not to mention the hard buttons of my nips, so close (well, Duh!) but so unreachable.
The rain was coming down pretty steadily when Nick parked the truck. He moved quickly to my side and reached again for the goody bag.
Even though I couldn’t get much sound out, I grunted excitedly and tried to catch his eye.
“Huh?
What’s wrong?” he asked.
I looked at him and then at the cabin, tossing my head toward the small building.
“You silly fool,” he said, laughing despite the rain. “You never get enough, do you?”
I shook my head.
Does that mean no I never get enough, or no he was wrong and in saying I didn’t? I hate negative questions.
Anyway, this time he got the message and laughed again.
He undid my seat belt and threw me over his shoulder (which did interesting things to my skirt) and carried me into the cabin with one arm while carrying the goody bag in the other. Once there he set me down carefully on the couch, then started to root around in the goody bag again. I slid quickly to the rug before the fireplace and rolled on my stomach, lifting my legs behind me into a hogtie position.
“You really are into this,” he said quietly, worry beginning to replace humor in his expression.
This was about the point where he would normally start releasing me, even if I begged to stay bound.
However, he nodded instead and reached for another chain from the goody bag, this one about three feet long. He lifted me by the waist for a moment, passing the chain under me.
Then he clipped a lock so that the chain made a belt with a foot or so of chain extending from the middle of my back.
Another lock hooked my ankles to that chain with my boot heels resting lightly on my exposed fanny, Nick having considerately flipped my skirt up high enough to expose it.
“Okay,” he said.
“I’ll go along until I get the truck unloaded.
Then I’m going to undo everything except your corset and boots.
I never should have let you talk me into leaving those keys home.
You need a chance to relax.”
Well, I certainly ‘needed’ it.
My muscles were aching, especially in my shoulders, but the ache just added to my arousal. Though I needed to relax, I didn’t want to, at least not physically, but I did relax mentally.
I had achieved what I wanted, though time would tell if I had made a big mistake. ‘Be careful what you ask for,’ indeed.
It took Nick three or four trips to get the things in from the truck. We hadn’t really expected the rain, so I had packed picnic things and even a boombox in case we wanted to go sit by the lake at some point.
I hadn’t packed many clothes, though.
Only enough to avoid making Nick suspicious.
By the time he got the coolers in and the food in the cabin’s small refrigerator, Nick was dripping wet. I wasn’t much better, though my moisture was a lot more localized.
He looked at me and said, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, grunting as affirmative a sound as I could.
“Okay.
I’ll let you loose after I put on some dry clothes,” he said, turning to the bedroom.
When he came out, he had on sweats that looked wonderfully comfortable, and soft moccasins I had gotten him for
Christmas. He went immediately to the goody bag and dug out the color-coded keys.
However, the first one he tried in the matching color-coded lock didn’t even go in, and while another key in what looked like the appropriate lock slid in easily enough, it wouldn’t turn.
Nick growled to himself and quickly tried several more keys, finally ignoring the color code and just shoving keys in locks, hoping one would turn.
When he had tried just about every combination, he looked at me with worry in his eyes, and apology.
He saw an expression of satisfaction on my face, apparent despite the gag that distorted my cheeks.
“You did something to the locks,”
he declared.
I nodded.
“You switched the colors around, or did you just get a whole new set of locks?”
I nodded, then nodded again as he identified what I had really done. The real keys for these locks were what I had hidden in our bathroom just before we left. Nick, with his passion for carefulness, might have tested the keys and locks just before we left, so I could only make the switch at the last second.
The one thing that wasn’t locked on me was the center piece to the ring gag. Nick quickly pulled this free, not that it helped much.
“Why did you do this?” he asked.
Like I could answer.
“It’s a good thing the parts that are actually against your skin are mostly leather.
I’ll have you out of those chains in a few minutes.”
Oh, no!
I hadn’t figured on him just destroying a couple of hundred dollars worth of restraints. I shook my head frantically, a ‘no’ coming out as, “Ohhh,” through the ring gag.
“Look, baby, I can’t leave you bound this severely for the whole damn weekend!” he said.
This time I nodded, trying to make a lispy, “Ethhh” into a recognizable ‘yes’.
“No way,” he insisted.
“The only compromise I’ll offer is that we turn around and head back right now.”
“Ohhh,” I tried again, shaking my head. Just then a flash of lightning lit the room, with the crack of thunder so close on its heels that I wondered if the cabin had been struck. Nick must have wondered the same, because he immediately stood and walked through the small building. We must have been okay, but the storm got worse even in the few minutes he was gone.
Just as he returned, the lights went out.
“Damn,” he muttered, going for our flashlights. It wasn’t all that uncommon to lose power in a storm up there.
The loss of lights was a minor problem, really, though if the power stayed out for very long, the refrigerated food would go bad.
Nick set up a lantern and looked again at my contorted form lying on the thick rug in front of the fireplace.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, more to himself than to me. Which made sense.
Duh!
“Truly, hon, I should cut those things off,” he said, squatting down to caress my hair.
I shook my head again, then tried to squirm to where I could nuzzle him. I didn’t get very far, but he got the idea anyway.
Reaching down to where my exposed fanny offered a somewhat constricted path to my naughty bits, he checked to find my juices flowing so freely they had left a spreading damp spot on the rug.
“God, you are so hot!” he said, becoming visibly aroused himself. He didn’t really understand my strange desires, but some element of the converse interest lived within him and he enjoyed my helplessness even as it worried him.
“I’m not going to be able to get at you, though,” he groaned. “Your plan didn’t take that into account.”
In response, I stuck my tongue through the ring gag and licked my lips.
“So that’s why the ball gag was missing from the bag,” he said, a visible pulse showing his interest in my alternative. I nodded happily as I stuck my tongue out at him.
He laughed and picked me up from the floor, carrying me into the bedroom. We had discovered on a previous visit that the bed was at exactly the right height to provide interesting opportunities and Nick carefully positioned me so that my one accessible orifice was available at the edge of the bed.
While he quickly stripped, I squirmed a little further forward so that I could get as much of him as possible. In seconds I was tickling the bottom of his rampant manhood with my tongue, straining to reach more as he teased me by standing just out of reach.
I tried to squirm forward some more, but he stopped me.
“Take it easy, baby, I don’t want you to fall off,” he said, but he stood closer so that I could take him through the opening in the gag. Or, it would probably be better to say that he took me.
With the collar, and with my shoulders so constrained, and my back arched, I could only move my head a tiny amount.
Nick took care of most of the movement, sliding in and out through my glistening lips.
I guess he was excited.
At some point in there he forgot to worry about me and just took advantage of my willing service. I guess my true helplessness, not even releasable by him, must have aroused him more than he wanted to admit because he seemed bigger, and harder, and hotter than ever before. And in a few minutes, his enthusiasm was driving him deeper into my throat than ever before.
I learned one thing about the ring gag that night.
Even if my throat spasmed, my jaw couldn’t move and so it wasn’t very obvious. At least, not to a highly-aroused lover. It wasn’t until my lips were pressing into his short and curlies that Nick realized how far he had been pushing into me.
He’s a truly considerate lover, never wanting to hurt me, and I could see his worry (well, sort off, his face was just at the edge of my vision as I looked up), but at the same time the sense of power sent him over the edge. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about starving in the time until I finally got out of my bonds, even if I were constrained to a liquid diet.
Though I might have to worry about dehydration. Despite the helping of protein I had just received, I felt as thirsty as a month in the desert.
Or maybe it was because I was flooding out so much of my own moisture, but as soon as Nick withdrew, I tried to grunt some sort of message about being thirsty.
I don’t know if he understood my words, or just understood, but Nick gently caressed my hair and then went out of the bedroom. In a moment, he was back with two glasses of wine. When he tried to pour some into my mouth, though, it wouldn’t work so he rolled me on my back despite my arched position. That didn’t really work very well either, with my back so bowed, so he finally lifted me to my knees, steadying me with one hand while he offered the wine to my lips with the other.
It was strange to be more or less upright, with my knees resting on the soft bed yet every muscle straining in my taut bondage. Nicky poured small swallows of wine into my open mouth, allowing me to swallow, then breathe, before pouring in a bit more. And then a bit more. The wine in the first glass vanished and Nick offered me his as well.
I don’t think I’ve ever had better tasting wine than whatever we had that night. In fact, even other bottles of the same vintage are not nearly as good as the wine I had when I was so tightly bound, with no near-term relief in sight, totally helpless, totally alive, every muscle screaming its need, its living energy into my mind.
When I had finished the second glass of wine, Nick lowered me gently to the bed, this time on my back.
It was a bit more stringent since my legs pulled harder at the chain that led from my waist, and my crossed arms bore the weight of my shoulders.
But in some ways it was a relief, too.
Any change in position at least changed the sensations, which can seem like a wonderful release.
Lying on my back had another effect as well. Though my knees were constrained virtually to touch, there was still enough room for an inquisitive scout to explore the source of the scent I was flooding into the room.
I couldn’t really lift my head well enough to see what was happening but I could soon tell what was happening.
Nick’s talented fingers were tracking the line of fluid from the damp spot on my skirt to the source.
A moment’s fumbling and the wrap skirt was untied and evaporation rapidly added to the coolness of the room. I shivered, but it wasn’t really from the cold.
Now Nick’s fingers were growing bolder, exploring their options in the available space as much as they examined the so-familiar contours. Apparently their options were sufficient, because they quickly changed from examining the flow to stimulating it.
I was certainly ready, and more than ready. The first touch was gentle, teasing, almost tickling, but it soon became firm enough to provide the sensations I needed even more than release from my bondage.
I arched even further, heedless of the pressure on my arms, wanting more than anything a greater pressure on my sex.
Nick provided it, fingers dipping into the moisture to spread it around and lubricate a firm massage that never pulled, only caressed. He probably should have put something back in the ring gag, because the sounds I was making were not muffled at all by the open hole in my mouth.
Even the scream that challenged the continuing thunder for dominance in noise level didn’t slow down the remorseless, wonderful dance of Nick’s fingers. I don’t know how long I can hold my breath, but whatever the time, it was not enough.
I couldn’t breathe in the tight corset and my awkward position well enough to keep up with the demands for oxygen my straining, tiny thrashes created, and I heard first a pounding in my ears that drowned out the thunder, then nothing.
When I came to, the room was dark.
I was on my side, which worked well enough all things considered, with a quilt thrown over me to keep me warm. The other room showed that the power was back on, and I heard the outside door open even as I realized the thunder had stopped.
“Hey, babe, you okay?” Nick called.
I grunted languidly.
I suppose I would have to accept okay, since that’s what Nick offered.
Words like terrific came to my mind, but I’d have to explain that later.
“I checked to make sure the trail is clear, and packed the truck. We’re still going home right away,” he said as he walked into the bedroom.
But he smiled and said, “After all, I couldn’t let you think you can get away with this sort of thing. Instead of a three-day weekend of, um, interesting pastimes, you get about twelve hours.
I hope you think about that the next time you plan something crazy like this.”
I nodded, grinning as best I could around the ring gag. Next time, I’d have to think up something even better.
Locks · Part 2 (2/2)
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