Mistress Melanie Leaves Me Hanging · Part 1 (1/2)
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Everybody has a fantasy, I suppose. Mine is to be helplessly bound before a beautiful dominant Mistress- usually a tall, blonde Nordic goddess type clad in a black leather cat suit. My favorite elaboration on this fantasy had me standing bolt upright in her dungeon- naked, of course (I mean, some sexy activity is usually a part of such fantasies), except for a multitude of leather straps that bound my arms to my sides. While I don’t have a tall, blonde Nordic goddess type clad in a black leather cat suit, I do have a marvelous friend named Melanie- a self-proclaimed slut.. She may not be a Helga, but she’s more than voluptuous enough, and she has enough sexual enthusiasm for the bedrooms of half the Danes in the country!
After a long period of frustration and anticipation, I called my friend
Melanie and talked to her about my fantasy- how I needed to be made completely helpless and how I needed a trusted friend to help me. While she’s not really into Dominance, she appreciates that I have an active fantasy life, and- flattered that I had chosen her to trust my life to- she agreed to play a part in my fantasy. We’ve been intimate for some time, and we’ve played a few games, like most modern couples. We had found out that Bondage
& Discipline really isn’t her ‘cup of tea’. But in the spirit of friendly give and take, she’d tried both the Dominant and the submissive roles, and she had been good at both.
I’ve toyed with the idea of mummification, and Melanie even mummified me once, wrapping me from head to toe in Saran Wrap and then covering that with Duct Tape. I loved the feeling of incredibly tight all-over bondage, but both of us acknowledged that the utter inaccessibility of the mummy was very unsexual. She got nothing out of it except wrapping practice, and I got very excited while being wrapped, but the excitement faded away after an hour of so of being wrapped and untouchable. Well, except for the few moments when she unwrapped my mouth and sat on my helpless face, but that’s another story altogether. No, for this exercise I needed to be naked and accessible.
Late in the morning, Melanie drove up and let herself in- she’s had a key for some time, both as ‘girlfriend’ and as a possible ‘rescuer’ should one of my self-bondage scenes turn out to be so effective as to be inescapable!
Melanie’s not the blonde Nordic goddess of my fantasies- she’s about 5’7”, brunette, and a bit on the ‘voluptuous’ side. But, as she puts it, some girls are great on posters and other girls are great in the dark! She’s definitely the second- her breasts are all-natural and second to none, her ass is a delight to see or touch or taste, and she’s so enthusiastic it’s hard to describe.
Melanie arrived dressed casually in- starting at the floor- black leather ankle boots with 2” heels (shorter than her usual), black stockings that almost made it to her blue denim miniskirt before they ended at garters that rose up under the skirt, and a white cotton blouse missing three top buttons which exposed the cleavage between two major-league breasts supported and enhanced by a Wonder-Bra. She looked like a slut, which is just how she likes it, and it was all I could do to resist taking her in my arms, pulling her to the floor, and taking her on the floor right inside the front door!
But both of us knew what was supposed to happen, and after an introductory embrace that lasted several minutes and left her panting and my erection aching, she pried my arms from her and led me into the kitchen to be fed.
After our lusts had cooled, she led me downstairs to my own basement dungeon and watched as I stripped, making a few rude comments as I did so. Melanie actually enjoys my body, but she knows me well enough to realize that I love a certain amount of degradation!
I had explained what I wanted to do, but had added that she should feel free to modify my plans as she chose- I mean, did I have much choice? And in a few moments, what little choice I had was going to disappear! That thought alone restarted my erection.
Melanie watched closely while I unrolled a long coil of 3/8” rope and wound a bra around my chest, over and under, crossing in my growing cleavage as my breasts developed and protruded. When I finished by holding the ends of the rope behind my back, she played with my tits for a bit, letting me savor my submissive helplessness, before she helped me out by tying the rope securely behind my back. Ohhh… as she tied the first knot, I got the familiar out-of-control feelings I love so much!
That done, Melanie watched as I sat on a folding chair; I picked up some leather straps I had piled beside the chair- pairs of straps riveted together- and locked my legs together, making sure my balls and especially my cock were not pinned between my thighs. (That seemed like a good idea at the time, but I was soon to have serious doubts about the wisdom of exposing my tender tools like that.) The first straps locked my ankles together, another went just below my knees, and the third went just above my knees. After I pulled the straps tight (not snug, but tight), I flexed a bit and verified that my lower legs were locked firmly against each other.
I reached out for my upper-body straps. The first wide and heavy leather strap went around my chest just below my rope bra and buckled in back; fastened to the strap at the sides were smaller straps which would lock to my arms just above the elbows. The second wide, heavy leather strap went around my waist and had a matching pair of straps which would be locked around my arms just below my elbows. Third was a pair of wide, heavy leather straps, riveted together of course, which locked around my thighs just below my crotch. At the sides of these straps was a matching pair of straps which would lock around my wrists.
I pulled the straps secure around my thighs, my waist, and my chest.
After making sure they were snug, I asked Melanie “Could you do my arms, please, Melanie? You know I can’t do that myself.” She walked over to me- “Gee, I hope I won’t have to do every-thing for you!” She checked the straps again and then buckled the straps around my upper arms and above my elbows;
I squirmed a bit and demonstrated that my arms were firmly locked to my sides. Melanie moved my hands into position and buckled the straps around my wrists. Yes, I was now really armless!
Finished, she pulled me to my feet and with a sly smile pressed my bound body to her. My tits rubbed against her chest, slightly above the swelling of her breasts, as she reached down for my ass cheeks. I reflexively reached around her only to be reminded that I couldn’t reach any more! I squirmed and determined basically that I had about as much ability to reach around her as a snake; my arms were firmly strapped full-length to my sides.
Melanie snickered at the frustrated expression on my face and returned me to the chair, where I sat on the leading edge leaning back. She leaned over me and pressed my face in the valley of her cleavage, letting me rub my face over the soft, warm flesh of her breasts. But just as I was getting seriously into her body, she pulled back and left me with my mouth open and empty.
Implementing an idea of her own, Melanie produced a nylon stocking and stretched the strip of nylon over both my feet. She then used a liberal length of Duct Tape to tape my feet together. As an unexpected innovation, after my feet were firmly locked together, she pointed my feet and toes downward and used Duct Tape liberally to lock them solidly in that awkward position. How do ballet dancers do it, I wondered? I realized that I could no longer stand upright because I didn’t have the use of my feet! Damn, I love my Mistress Melanie!
Another idea came up with on her own was the binding of my hands. When
I’m playing my self-bondage games, about the most I can do is to handcuff myself, which is effective but lacks something. Melanie produced another pair of stockings and slipped them up over my hands, telling me to make fists. She wrapped the length of each stocking around my hand and then instructed me “Make fists, slave Bob”. I submissively made fists and waited patiently as she wrapped more Duct Tape around my nylon-covered fists, crushing my fingers to my palms. From that point on my fingers were useless!
As I felt the tape surrounding my hands, I went through the ‘moment of commitment’ panic and/or ecstasy: I knew that I was helpless, that I had released control over myself to Melanie. In a self-bondage exercise this moment could come when I hear the click-click-click of the handcuffs, the keys to which are frozen in a block of ice; or it might be when I step off a stool into suspension bondage, knowing that I can’t step back up and now gravity controls me. In my present situation, when the tape covered my fingers, I would from that moment on be utterly unable to release myself;
I was powerless before my Mistress. She noticed my reaction- my erection throbbed at her.
Ignoring her usual lusty urges (Melanie’s not one to ignore an erection, especially one pointed at her), she ignored the promise of my meat as she pulled over the other folding chair. Holding one end of a six-foot length of rope in one hand, she climbed up on the chair. When she put her foot up on the chair, one knee was right by my head, and I had a momentary view of the crotch of her panties beings swallowed by her pussy lips, all framed by the black of her stockings. Oh, my god…
Heaven disappeared (thankfully, only for a moment) as she heaved herself up onto the chair. That chair was right next to the one on which I sat, leaning back, and of course I just had to stare up her little skirt at her full, rounded butt cheeks, outlined and exposed by her panties. Ohhh… my entire soul wanted so badly to grab her ass cheeks in my hands, but my arms were firmly strapped to my sides and I had no fingers. Even if
I had been able to move my arms, the most I could have done would be to rub the back of my hand against her ass- most unsatisfactory!
Now this is one of many things I don’t understand about myself and./or the male psyche. I knew Melanie’s butt almost as well as I knew my own (like I said, we’ve been very, very intimate before), and I’d had my hands, my face, and my cock pressed up against her cheeks more than twice. Why does my cock get such a charge out of a surreptitious chance to peek up her skirt? Damfino, but my cock strained at the sight of her barely-covered ass cheeks! Melanie looked down at me and saw me looking up at her delights.
Knowing I was helpless to do anything about it or with it, she smiled and continued on, allowing me only the chance to watch helplessly.
Mistress Melanie stretched up- presenting the most exquisite upskirt view ever- and threaded the rope through the ratchet, which was bolted to the exposed ceiling beam. (I used it often in my self-bondage games- with suspension, the law of gravity comes in very handy.) Being careful to let me watch as she moved- she loves being watched- she climbed down and tied the free end of the rope to the crossing of my rope bra.
Ignoring my obvious frustration and eagerness, Mistress Melanie stepped to the closet, returning with a favorite pair of clover clamps. Oh, shit… she reached out and pinched my right breast between her fingers to make the nipple project out. With the other hand, she positioned the clamp and let it close; only a tiny bit of meat projected between the jaws of the clamp. My tits were already sensitive because of the rope bindings, and
I groaned.
She ignored my discomfort- she knows that a severe bondage situation isn’t supposed to be comfortable- and continued to secure the second clamp on my left nipple; this burned just as much as the right. She released the chain connecting the two clamps (in a fit of over-enthusiastic lust, I had substituted a two-foot-long chain for the original six-inch connector), which at that point felt like it weighed eight pounds, and even tugged downward on it to ensure that the clamps were solidly attached. Clover clamps are designed to grip tighter with more tension, and I groaned to assure her that they were tight and secure. Mistress Melanie smiled happily.
Mistress Melanie Leaves Me Hanging · Part 1 (1/2)
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