The Crawl -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WARNING! This is adult oriented fiction of a strong sexual nature. If you are under 18 years
of age or easily offended by such material, then click your browser's back button now.
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Against the Post
by Night Owl
Posted: 8/07
(Story Content: M/f, Outdoor Bondage, Oral Sex)
Was it ever possible to have too much of a good thing?
One could certainly have too much to eat, too much to drink, too much sleep, and so on. Brenda Zavala never had a problem figuring out the answer to those questions - but too much bondage? Of course the whole idea was relative to the individual. One person's idea of too much may be too little for another, and while bondage could be practiced alone, it usually involved someone else, which usually made things more complicated because one would always want to go further than the other.
It was Chris, who first came up the idea of adding a little "kink" to their lovemaking by tying her up. Both were raised on very conservative values, so Brenda was more than a little surprised to hear this coming from her new husband. Even more surprising was how quickly she took to rope bondage after they started. It was like a whole new world had been opened up her; a world where fantasies of abduction, rape, and slavery could be played out in the safety of their own bedroom - not to mention the wonderful orgasms she got afterwards. Being tied up and helpless meant that Chris was in the driver's seat, while she could just lay there and allow her mind to really focus on her own body. It was very liberating in a strange way, and after that, very rarely did Brenda want sex without bondage. She wanted it so very desperately at times, even more than Chris wanted to give it to her . . . and he had really wanted to give it to her in the beginning. Fearing that the whole thing would go spiraling out of control, she learned to be very careful not to ask too much of him, but she certainly got the tables turned on her this time!
Brenda almost laughed out loud at this, as she stood there against the wooden post with her wrists bound together high above her head. She was tired, and terribly horny. A chorus of crickets were the only sounds to keep her company, besides the wind sighing through the big iron wood trees that surrounded her. The red kimono robe did very little to shield her body from the night air, and with the draw string undone, it allowed the cool, breeze to waft through the open front and ravish her with its sensual caresses. She was more than ready for her husband's return . . . but where the HELL was he?
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Lately the two of them had been having a really good spell of bondage and they were always pushing the envelope more and more to see just how far she was willing to go, and so far, that limit hadn't been reached yet. Brenda and Chris had been married over a year, so they knew each other pretty well. They never had to sit down and negotiate every scene and her husband always knew that he could do pretty much anything he wanted with her. Brenda liked that. It had been so long since she'd used her safe word that it was getting a little embarrassing.
Her current "predicament" began earlier that evening. It was about nine or so and the clock was running. Not that she and Chris ever timed these things, but both of them needed to get up early for work the next day so they were eager to get started. Brenda had just showered and finished toweling off in front the bathroom vanity so Chris could take his.
Standing naked in front of the mirror, and feeling especially sexy that evening, she took a moment to admire her reflection. Her high cheekbones, straight jawline, soft pouting lips and dark oval eyes really showed off her Spanish heritage, which ran deep in her family. Her breasts could have been a bit larger, and her legs not quite so short, but all in all, she was very pleased with her appearance. She felt good to see the young men walk by and look at her, their glances lingering, their steps hesitating. It felt good to be beautiful and know it. Brenda smiled.
She took some lotion and rubbed it on her arms and legs. Her skin was light almond in color and silky smooth all over, especially around the face and neck. Chris always liked to touch her there whenever they kissed. She liked it too.
Brenda slipped on her red kimono robe -- a sexy little thing, about thigh-high and made of red satin with soft lace detail around the sleeves. She began brushing through her dark hair. She about to call out to her husband to see if he going to take his shower, when suddenly he dashed into the bathroom and playfully grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms squarely behind her back. Brenda was surprised at first, to say the least! Chris knew that sometimes she liked it rough, so she played along by struggling in his arms as he dragged her into the bedroom, her robe flowing open around her legs. He pushed her onto the bed, keeping her arms pinned behind her back, and clapped on a pair of handcuffs. Brenda loved the feel of tight steel cuffs, and that metallic clicking sound they made as they ratcheted down around her wrists. She tested the cuffs to be sure they still held her as well as the last time he used them, and they did. Her wrists were too small for him to put them on too tight, but by the same token, she couldn't just slip her hands free even if he didn't tighten them down all the way. After all, Brenda was a subbie, not an escape artist! When he tied her up the last thing she wanted to do was escape, but she liked to try though.
Chris was feeling rather frisky that evening. He'd already told her earlier that he was suffering from a bad case of blue balls. He got that a lot sometimes. Of course, Brenda always helped him out if she could. If she wasn't in the mood, he would take the time to let her get up to speed -- usually. This time was not the case though, and he pretty much wanted oral sex as soon as he had the cuffs on her.
Brenda lay motionless, face down on the bed as Chris fastened a pair of matching cuffs around her ankles. She purred as he ran his hands up the backs of her thighs and gave both ass cheeks a squeeze. Then he bent her legs back and fastened the ankle cuffs to her wrist cuffs. Brenda was now bound in a loose kind of hogtie. She could still move her limbs and even wiggle about, but getting up and walking around would be impossible.
He rolled Brenda over on her back so that her arms would be pinned underneath. She was quite a sight to behold - her silk robe trying its best to show of her body, legs bent to one side, and her dark hair, still wet from the shower spilled over the plush bedding. She put on a real show with her struggling too. In doing so, the draw string loosened, allowing the robe to slip open just a little bit more.
Now for the moment of truth. Chris knelt over her, with her head between his knees. He leaned forward and gently slipped his long member past her lips. Brenda had to arch her body a little and bend her head back to accommodate him. She used to be timid about oral sex, but that was a long time ago. Now she was getting pretty good at it. Just a flick or two of her tongue and h was almost ready to climax. Brenda would have laughed if she could. Instead she worked her mouth around his cock, sucking and swirling her tongue around him. In turn, Chris ran his hands down her neck, then took hold of her breasts and squeezed tightly. Brenda answered with a moan. She was feeling her needs too, and began moving her thighs together to generate some feeling down there. She had just gotten a hint of her own climax when he erupted and poured himself into her.
Quite often, Chris would leave Brenda frustrated during their bondage sessions, but he would also see to it that she had her fill too, it would just take awhile. It really wasn't bad as it seemed. He'd tie her up for awhile in some new position he had read or seen in a magazine, then have his way with her, and by the time he was ready to go again, Brenda would be just as ready as he was. Bondage was good like that. There was really no such thing as a quickie when it came to bondage. It could last for hours, teasing you relentlessly, putting you on the threshold of a fantastic orgasm in the end, and even days of being very, very turned on afterwards.
He rolled Brenda back over on her stomach and unfastened her ankles from her wrists, but the cuffs still remained.
"Don't worry, babe," he assured her, "we're not through yet."
He then pulled their 'box of goodies' out from under the bed, and took out the leather dog collar. He had used it on Brenda before. It was nice wide one, decorated with metal studs with rings on the front and back. He also grabbed a small chain and a leash. Brenda knew then, that she was going to have a long night ahead of her. The anticipation made her heart beat so loud, she was sure Chris could hear it. He crawled back on the bed and sat on her (another thing she loved) and fastened the collar around her neck. Next, he clipped the chain to the ring in back, then clipped the other end to her handcuffs. The chain was only about a foot in length so it kept Brenda's wrists drawn nice and high up her back. By that time she was feeling pretty helpless, but one thing about scene bondage, you don't stop there! He could run a chain from her ankles to the collar and really hogtie her, or maybe he would try something new. Brenda had been a little slow off the mark that night (compared to Chris), but she was all nicely turned on after he was finished.
"There, all trussed up and ready," he teased. "Oh, and I forgot to tell you . . . we're going outside tonight."
Thump, thump . . . went her heart!
Up until then, they had always practiced their bondage in the house. Now he was taking her away from the safe confines of these four wall to someplace "outside" of his choosing. This opened up a whole new world of possibilities - the openness, the fear of being discovered. Their private life no longer seemed so private anymore, and to say that she was really getting turned on (and at the same time frightened) by this new development, would have been an understatement. Chris went to his closet and casually got dressed while Brenda just lay there, trying to figure out something useful to do. She tried to ask where they were going, but he only shushed her. From experience, she knew that usually meant to keep quiet or he would be forced to put on the gag too!
After getting his clothes on, he helped her off the bed, and clipped the leash to her collar. It was difficult going down the stairs with her ankles chained together, but Chris was patient with her as he lead his pretty captive by the leash out into the night air. It was the 'dog days' of summer, so even in the evenings, it was still pretty warm and sticky out. Chris opened the trunk of his car, which was kind of . . . interesting. Just where was he planning to take her, half naked and all bound up like this? Inside, the backseat had been folded down to allow air into the trunk, but the idea of being kept there adding a new thrill to the abduction scenario. Chris carefully lifted her in, then fastened her ankle cuffs to her wrists, forcing her into another loose hogtie.
"That should hold you for awhile," he laughed, "don't fall asleep, babe." Before she could answer, he closed the trunk door.
The ride was long and a little uncomfortable. Her body rocked back and forth with every bump and turn. She could also feel something cold and hard, the tire iron maybe, poking into her side. Brenda told Chris she liked it rough, and this night she was certainly getting what she asked for! With the back seat folded down, she would have been able to peer through the opening in the rear of the trunk and see her husband at the wheel in the driver's compartment - perhaps even an occasional road sign passing by to give her some idea of where they where they were going. But she was facing the other way, leaving her with nothing to do, but just lay there in the dark and let her imagination go wild . . .
"The poor woman had been taken from her home, bound with steel cuffs and thrown into the greasy trunk of his car. Her abductor was at the wheel, taking her to some secret destination where they would be alone together. There was no telling what unspeakable things he would do to her then . . ."
The car turned down a bumpy road, then stopped. Chris opened the trunk, unfastened her wrists from her ankles so she could stand, and helped her out. The moon was full that night, so Brenda had no trouble taking in her surroundings. The dirt road they had turned on was near an old abandoned barn, overgrown with weeds and shrubs. Rusty machine parts, of what appeared to be farm equipment, lay strewn about the yard. Chris took her by the leash to a post in front of the old building. He unlocked the handcuffs, but only long enough to raise her arms and lock them again to a hook at the top of the post.
Now Brenda and Chris loved bondage. If they weren't doing it, then they were talking about it, and if they weren't talking about it, they were thinking it. It wasn't the only way they had sex, but they grew to depend on it a great deal. Brenda thought about some of the things they had discussed doing as he locked the steel cuffs around her wrists. The hook was brand new, and most-likely Chris had put there earlier just for this occasion. The positioning of it was perfect in keeping her arms stretched tight, so much that she almost and to stand on her toes! She recalled them talking about doing this outdoors, then leaving her alone. It sounded like a thrill. Part of bondage was the sex and another part the excitement, which Brenda really liked, but only because it made the sex so much better!
She knew then what was going to happen. Chris would leave her here with her wrists handcuffed to the post, then pretend to walk off. But all he would really do was get out of her eye site and hide somewhere, then watch her struggle. Of course she knew he would be nearby, but it was still a rush to imagine being left there helpless like that.
"You ok, babe," he asked.Brenda only nodded. Her heart felt like it was pounding into her throat. Chris smiled, kissed her, then pulled the draw string of her silk robe, leaving it open. She then watched him walk back to the car, and drive back down the dirt road away from her!
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So now she was standing there, alone, wearing nothing but a red silk kimono robe and a dog collar. She could be at home with her husband, cuddling and making love! Where was she instead? Out in the muggy heat, handcuffed to a post. For the first time since they took up this hobby, Brenda began to question her sanity. Chris and her hadn't discussed how long he was going to leave her out here like this, where he'd be hiding, or how she could get a hold of him in case she had trouble or anything! Heck, if anything else, she might have to pee or something before he got back.
The wind gusted, and her red, silk robe fluttered against her body, cold and sensual. A shiver ran up her spine, her chilled nipples became visibly erect. The open robe still covered her breasts, but in the moonlight, she could see her hardened buds poking against the paper-thin fabric. How silly it was, being caressed almost to an orgasm by only the wind. If only she could bring her arms down! Brenda was really beginning to feel helpless. Where the hell was he?
She remembered Chris saying once that she had been tied up to many times that he had lost count. He was only joking, of course, but she was really tee'd off by the remark, and several times wished she had slapped him for it. Men could be pretty heartless at times. They liked tying us up, but then they didn't show the right kind of respect. She might like to play the subbie during their lovemaking, but she was still a woman, nonetheless. Chris enjoyed doing this sort of thing as much as she did, but she was the one taking all the risks.
"Like tonight," she almost whispered out loud, "something could go dreadfully wrong, or I could even die out here."
Brenda then took a breath. Of course, she didn't think she was really going to die. That didn't mean she couldn't feel weight bearing down on her wrists from the steel cuffs. And there was also the collar. On her neck was the hide of a dead animal with skin 15-20 times thicker than hers, and it was starting to chafe her a little. Brenda imagined what everyone at work would think if she came in the next morning with bruises on her neck and wrists.
"I guess it'll be long sleeves and a turtleneck for a while!"
It did feel good though. Almost as if she were born into this world with limbs that were made to fit inside leather and chains; or skin to feel the burn of a knotted rope. She remembered when Chris had hogtied her once, then put a pair of metal clamps on her nipples. Man was that a rush! She had totally lost control of herself that night, writhing and moaning on the bed for what seemed like an eternity (Chris told her later that it had lasted only 30 minutes, but who was counting!) But that was why she liked bondage so much - Brenda didn't have to think or anything, just lay back and deal with the pain and pleasure as it flowed over her, like being on automatic pilot. It made her feel primitive in a way, like the woods around her, with only the ruins of an old barn nearby to suggest that human civilization ever existed. Out here, anything could happen to her. Mmmm, those are some deep thoughts . . . and kinda exciting!
"Exciting sure, but how bright? A wild animal could trot right up and rip out my throat!"
Well, not her throat. She had her collar on to protect her . . . that part of her, anyway. And how about the bugs? Not exactly life-threatening, but they could certainly do a lot damage to a woman bound half naked in a lush forest like this, and there were certainly hundreds, if not thousands of them buzzing about. Brenda could only recall having to shake off one or two mosquitoes so far, but come morning, all the little critters would be wide awake and searching for their breakfast.
"And here I am, tied to a post like some kind of virgin sacrifice left to the mosquito gods!"
Her kimono robe offered some protection, but it was hardly the type of garment one would want to wear out in the backwoods. The loose sleeves were draped around her shoulders, exposing her bare arms, and the bottom of it was just enough to cover her tush. Of course, with the front open as it was, she may as well have been naked. Plenty of flesh for the little pests to feast on, and she had such beautiful skin too.
Brenda was coming up with all sorts of reasons as to why this was such a bad idea, and they only seemed to excite her even more. Bondage was like motocross racing; it was stupid, risky, and people sometimes died because of it - but it was fun. As scary and painful as it might be, there was always an inner fire or something telling her that it felt really good way deep inside. Odd.
She shifted her feet a little to try and get more comfortable. Her poor legs were really beginning to feel the strain of being on her feet for so long. She tried going limp and hanging by her arms for a while, then after ten minutes or so, the cuffs starting hurting her wrists, but that was enough time to give her legs a rest, allowing her to stand again.
"I'll have to keep doing this, or my legs will give out completely."
But for how long? Chris had never left her alone this long, or had he? Brenda didn't have a watch on her, but it certainly seemed longer. Maybe he was still mad after the argument they had a few days ago. It was a silly little tiff really . . . at least to her, but Chris seemed pretty angry. It had to do with her going to nightclub with a few of her friends, like a ladies night out, and Chris was mad because she didn't tell him where she was going. Not that he would have let her go if she had. He was very protective of his new wife, and at first Brenda thought it was kind of flattering, but getting married didn't mean she had to stop going out with her friends, did it? The 'discussion' got very heated. Usually she gave in to him, but not this time, and he finally stormed out of house and stayed away for a couple hours. They finally made up afterwards, but the subject was never really settled.
Maybe this was his way of teaching her lesson: 'want to go out and be a little slut, then fine. You can just stay here then and make love to this post!'
Of course he wouldn't do such a thing, or would he? Chris did have a bad temper sometimes. What if he WASN'T coming back? Six months later they would find her skeleton, still hanging from the post, draped in the tattered, moldy remains of a red silk kimono robe. Now that was a morbid thought!
"Relax, girl. You could die out here, but you won't. Chris is probably hiding in those trees somewhere, watching you and getting a hard-on. The scamp!"
"I HOPE YOU'RE ENJOYING THE SHOW!" She called out.
The crickets stopped for a moment . . . then resumed their chirping. Nothing.
"Maybe it was time to try and find a way out this. After all, half the fun of bondage was trying to get loose, and at least it would give me something to do until Chris showed up," Brenda then smiled, "and imagine his reaction if I DID get loose, now that would be fun to see!"
Brenda moved both of her feet together, then lifted herself on her toes to get as much height as possible. Stretching her arms upward, she tried to unhook the chain between her handcuffs.
"Damn it!"
Just less than one inch was all Brenda needed to clear the hook, but try as she might, she didn't have the height to do it. Chris knew exactly how high to put the hook to keep her from getting loose. She suddenly remembered how he did this. About a month ago, she had just wrapped a towel around her after getting out of the shower, when he came into the bathroom. He asked her to raise her arms "like this", he demonstrated. When she did, he stretched a tape measure from her wrists to her ankles. When Brenda asked him what it was all about, he just smiled and said nothing.
"What an idiot I was not to see THIS coming!"
That made her even more determined to get loose. Brenda tried again and again to get the chain over the hook. Finally, she had to stop when her arms and legs started shaking. Maybe she could pull herself up and unhook it that way.
"Yeah sure, I can see me trying to shinny up this post with my legs wrapped around it. I'd probably get splinters all over me . . ."
Suddenly, she heard the sound of a vehicle approaching.
Just ahead, about 200 yards, there was a county road where the dirt path that led to the old barn turned off. She could see headlights on that road approaching from behind the trees. It was Chris! It had to be. Brenda watched anxiously as the lights grew brighter. The shadow of a large semi truck appeared, not their Acura. That meant it wasn't her husband, but who?
Brenda held her breath as it slowed down right where the dirt path turned off. Great! Brenda couldn't believe her bad luck! Why would a truck be turning up this lonely dirt road in the middle of the night? Maybe the driver saw her and decided to investigate. It felt like her heart was about to leap through her chest. Then suddenly the truck sped up again and continued on its route. She breathed a sigh of relief as it disappeared behind the trees on the other side. He was only slowing down to switch gears.
That raised a thought though. Just how conspicuous was she anyway, standing out here in the open? There was very little traffic along that road at this hour, but all it would take, was for one driver to casually look over in her direction. The moon was full, illuminating everything, including the dirt road leading to the abandoned barn where Brenda stood tied to the post, half-naked in her bright red robe! Only a blind man couldn't see her.
"So where the hell is Chris, anyway?"
Time passed, how much time, Brenda had no way of knowing. Her skin felt damp. Part of it from the humidity in the air. Occasionally the breeze cooled it a little, then she would start sweating again. It would probably be scorching again tomorrow.
"People do the dumbest things, especially the young ones, who think they are super human or something. Maybe that's a part of bondage, to remind us that even though we are at the top of the food chain, we are still weak, physically anyway."
Speaking of weak, it was time to rest her legs again. Brenda relaxed her knees, allowing her body to slide down about an inch so until the handcuffs were pulling on her wrists. Another cool breeze blew in against her, and Brenda moaned. For the moment, she had forgotten the dangers that were plaguing her thoughts. She was stuck here, after all, with no control over what might happen anyway, so why not make the best of it. Her mind turned inward. She suddenly became very aware of nice the post felt against her bare tush. Looking down, her eyes trailed along the opening of her robe, past her breasts to the small tuft of dark curls between her legs.
Then Brenda had an idea. She scraped the ground with her bare feet to get the pebbles away, then slowly turned around. In doing so, she had to cross her wrists, tightening the chain on her cuffs. It hurt a little but it felt good. Facing the post, she leaned forward and began rubbing her breasts against it. Her skin began to tingle as she teased them with the rough surface. She found a spot where the wood had split, and let one hardened nipple slip into the crack, while being mindful not to catch any splinters. She had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. She then slid down the post and took delight in the sensation of touching herself like that. Her hips swayed. Her arms ached nicely. Brenda did this for a time then turned back away from the post again.
"I really did it this time. Now I've gotten myself all stirred up."
The last thing she wanted was for Chris to walk up and see her making out with the post. She couldn't help it though. Already plans were forming in her head on how to stand so she could give her lower half a workout. Her legs were doing pretty good, but she still had to pace herself, chill out.
Brenda leaned back against the post and looked up into the sky. Not many stars down low. That meant lots of haze come sun-up; lots of humidity. She could feel the beads growing under her arms, on her stomach and back. One drop rolled down her face into her mouth. It tasted salty.
Suddenly, she heard a sound in the woods.
"Easy girl, you've been hearing sounds all night. The wind. The crickets . . ."
But this was new, a rustle in the bushes nearby. Again, maybe just the wind blowing. If there was someone out there, she sure put on some show didn't she? It was probably Chris, or some psycho ready to kill her. Whoever it was, Brenda was certainly in no position to do anything about it. That was the nice thing about bondage. When your were helpless, there was really no point in worrying about anything. She read once about how prisoners on death row always seemed so calm, because after their 90th appeal or so, they finally realize there's nothing they could do.
"I think it's just the wind, anyway."
Speaking of wind, another breeze came. Brenda leaned forward and arched her back, then she stood on her toes, giving her legs and arms a nice stretch. The robe fell back past her breasts allowing the cool night air to caress her body. Then she relaxed.
"I hope you enjoyed that, whoever you are!"
It wasn't long before Brenda starting getting 'that urge' again.
"There's no way I'm going to be able to just stand here, practically naked and hanging by these chains! Oh, this feels so good!"
She shook her head, clearing it, and tried to think about something else. A bead of sweat rolled from her armpit down the side of her body. She ignored it the best she could. Her mound was really beginning to ache, and muscles in her lower abdomen felt like they were tied up in knots.
"It guess this is what blue balls feels like."
She tried to bring up something else.
"At the grocery store, I need to remember to pick up some hot sauce. Chris loves hot sauce on everything."
She slid down the post a little to give her legs another rest.
"Don't get frisky on me ol' post ol' buddy. Just sit there and let me lean on you for awhile while I look at the scenery."
Another bead of sweat ran down her leg.
"I wonder what they grow out there? Wheat or corn, I imagine. They use up so much of the land around here. It sucks up all of the nutrients. That can't be good. The farmers should know better, but ! guess they'll just keep putting more fertilizer in the ground. Fertilizer . . . mmm, bad word. Next subject."
Brenda twisted her hands in the metal cuffs and they pinched her without mercy.
"Oww!" She almost whispered aloud.
It hurt, but she was glad she didn't speak out loud. Sometimes a voice could be comforting, even if it was your own. This time though, it was better to be as invisible and un-noticeable as she could be. She didn't want anyone to find her like this, except for Chris. Her fingers were starting to grow numb, but every time she tried twisting her hands to get the circulation going, the cuffs would bite harder. Her skin felt damp, sticky. Her leg muscles were beginning to throb now, despite her efforts to relax her body enough to relieve them.
"How long is Chris going to leave me out here? Can't he see that I'm having trouble?"
Her back was really sweating now. She felt a trickle roll down right between her buttocks. Mmmmm, that felt good.
"Stop it! Think about something else."
Nothing came to mind.
"Face it. I've been begging for this. OW! And just how will I go anyway? I was already way out there compared to my friends before this happened. Now I'm first in line for the stupidity award or something!"
Another pair of headlights appeared on the road. This time it was a car, cruising for destinations unknown. Brenda looked back at the post.
"My good 'ol friend, the post. Rubbing it would feel good, I'd never be able to get off though, and I'd probably end up frustrated if I tried."
Her legs were getting tired again, her arms too from being stretched for so long.
"Maybe if I turned around again and lean against the post that way, I could rest a bit." She almost laughed out loud. "Yeah sure. That would be just the excuse you need to start humping the thing."
Time passed . . .
Slowly . . .
She had been a good girl and left the post alone, but she was still turned on.
"I'm ready, come get me Chris."
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to kinda mess with the pole . . . just a little.
"Now I've done some things in my life I thought were kinky, but rubbing myself on a pole? Come on girl, get a grip! OK, so I'm turned on. I'm all tied up and that always gets my motor running. The longer the better, right?"
Brenda sighed heavily and leaned back against the post. She could feel it touching her ass. Spreading her feet apart as far as the ankle chains would allow, she arched her back forward and began shifting her hips, allowing the wood to slip between her cheeks a little. Mmm, that was nice. She began to feel a familiar tingle between her thighs.
"If only my hands weren't chained!"
She was really grinding her ass now, hoping the get something more out of all of this.
"Here I have a perfectly good set of arms, but there isn't a single thing I can do in this world to get them separated to where I can use of them."
She turned again to face the post, putting one leg to either side of it. The handcuffs pulled on her wrists as the chain twisted around itself. Looking up, the cuffs glinted in the moonlight . . . as if the they were winking at her. Brenda smiled a little as she gave into the temptation of pressing her mound against the post.
"Oh yes, it does feel good! I need to stop this though. I will, in just a minute. I promise!"
Her delicate arms looked so pale against the dark wood. How old was this thing anyway? Fifty? A hundred years, maybe? The thought of her young body, pressed . . . no trapped against this ancient fossil was a little titillating.
"You've seen a lot in your long life, my friend, but I'll bet you've never had a woman chained to you like this before, huh?"
She hugged it tight, as much as she could with the cuffs, then moved her feet forward so that her whole body would be pressed firmly against the post.
"Talk about an itch that needs scratching!"
She squeezed her thighs together so she could feel it pressed between them. The robe fluttered uselessly behind her as another breeze kicked up.
"I might not get any rest like this, but WOW does it ever feel good! What a slut I am! The little Catholic girl, sweet and innocent. All chained up!"
She pulled against the wrist cuffs, not to try to escape, but to just feel them more. Her hips gyrated.
"Look at me ma! I'm humping a post! Gross!"
Brenda was doing exactly what she promised herself she wouldn't do, but it felt really good. She was sooo close to getting off! She struggled and pulled against the chains, but all the hip-grinding in the world wasn't going to make her climax. Sad story, but true. For climax, she needed insertion.
"God, this is degrading. I can feel the thing pressed up against my body, touching me all over. One breast against either side, my tummy, my thighs! Oh you miserable post you!"
She put her cheek on the weathered pole and strangely, felt a sensation of comfort.
"Well, Chris put me here to hold me, and it's sure doing that."
She smiled a bit and gently kissed it's wooden hide, then turned around again, feeling somewhat dejected at not getting the orgasm she had worked to hard for. The post felt good on her back and she used it to rub her shoulders. The cuffs were still pinching her wrists, but it didn't feel so bad now that the twist in the chain had been taken out.
"Ok, this is getting old so you can come and save me now. Better get me while I'm turned on, because in a bit, I'm going to start getting mad - and you know what that's like . . ."
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of another vehicle approaching. She held her breath and watched the headlights grow brighter, hoping this time, it might be Chris. It wasn't. A sigh of frustration passed her lips as the pick-up passed by, then disappeared into the night.
Brenda recalled a time as a kid, when her parents used to go out a lot at night -- nothing fancy, just out to dinner and maybe a bar afterwards. Mom, God bless her soul, wasn't a drinker, but Dad sure was. Was he ever! Dad would go drinking, and Mom would just tag along to keep him out of trouble. They stayed out late most of the time. They'd drop her off at the neighbors, and when she woke up in the morning, she'd be back in her own bed. She guessed the folks kind of took advantage of the neighbors though. They got tired of them showing up in the middle of the night to get her. Couldn't blame them.
After a while they just went about their business and kind of ignored her while she was there, so Brenda would sit on their porch and wait for her parents to come back. She kind of made a game out of it, guessing which car that passed by would be the one with her folks in it. She'd say to herself, "This is them!" and she'd watch to see if she was right or not. Usually not, so finally she would just curl up on the chair and try to keep warm, then wait, sometimes or hours. Much like she was doing now.
Thinking about it always made Brenda feel lonely. She remembered one night, it rained, and her folks didn't get home until dawn. Brenda stayed on the porch though, shivering in the cold and watched the cars go by, wishing on every one of them. Yeah, melodramatic. The good news was they come home and covered her up with kisses before carrying her into their house to her nice warm bed. It wasn't long after, that her dad stopped drinking and her parents didn't go out so much anymore. Such ended a lonely chapter in her life. Brenda could have let all of that scar her, but she didn't. She figured life was a mixed bag - so just take the good and leave the bad behind.
Brenda still hated to wait though. Bondage had a lot to do with waiting, but for her, the usual was to get tied up nice and tight, then try to get loose for awhile until she was rescued. This time it was getting a little depressing!
"So how long have I been here?"
She tried figuring out the time by looking at the moon's position - like she was part Sioux Indian, or something.
"Maybe I can figure out a way to get some sleep. Let's see. Butt on the post, knees locked, bend over and just let my wrists support me."
The human body was a resilient thing, but the pain in her arms from being pulled like that would only keep her awake. So sleep was out.
"I guess no dancing either, huh? Maybe I could face the pole and straddle it, then just lean back with my torso?"
Again, that would put too much pressure on the arms, but she would sure get in a lot of squirming and rubbing out of it!
"Man, it would sure feel good to touch that post again."
She turned and eyed it. The post didn't move, an admirable trait in a lover. Sheeesh!
Brenda leaned back on the post hard and whispered, "Come on Chris, honey, come get me -- I'm ready!"
She wanted to call out, but was afraid to make any noise, afraid that he would not come. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks.
"I know I'm going to make myself miserable again, by rubbing this pole."
She heard of people having breakdowns during bondage. They cry and blurt out all kinds of personal stuff buried inside themselves. Maybe she would do that, she didn't think so though. Brenda had problems as a child, like everyone else. The teen years were always hard on everyone too. There was Brenda's first marriage. They only lasted two years, then the divorce, but she had no serious issues with that buried inside her. After all, she ended up with Chris, which was good.
For Brenda, it was reconciling herself with bondage in general. As a little girl, she was only allowed to watch certain shows on TV or at the movies. Then when she became a young teen she could watch TV after nine at night. Those were the so-called adult shows. She was pretty disappointed. The big difference between those stories and the ones she had been allowed to watch before then, was that in the adult shows on TV, people died, or were sometimes murdered. Definitely heavy stuff, but not something to feel all happy about. Now being exposed to bondage, that was different. Brenda saw her first so-called "kink film" while she was in college. Mostly what she saw at first was one person taking control over, or the freedom away from another person, but her young mind knew there was something more going on. It was exciting seeing someone getting tied up like that - even more exciting, was imagining herself getting tied up.
Brenda was never gutsy enough to try bondage though, not even during her first marriage. Too conservative maybe, or too much Catholic school. Then she met Chris, and while they were dating, he came up with the idea of tying her to the bed while making love. Nothing intense, but she really got a rush out of it, and of course, that opened up the flood gates!
Now she was into some serious bondage! The tighter and more dangerous it got, the more sexy and alive she felt.
"Funny how we humans think!"
It seemed to be getting darker out. The moon was losing its brightness through the haze as the night grew warmer. The sun would be coming up soon, and tomorrow was going to be a scorcher for sure. Brenda's fingers were getting so numb now she couldn't even feel them, and her arms were beginning to get that tingling 'itchy' feeling one gets when they start to fall asleep.
"I wonder what would happen if I hung here until all the blood was drained from my arms. Would the circulation come back, or would a surgeon have to cut them off?"
That was a morbid thought: Brenda Zavala, forced to live the rest of her life without any limbs after a grisly bondage incident! To bad. She had such sexy arms too. Chris often mention that whenever she wore a capped sleeve blouse. Now the loose robe was really showing them off with her wrists locked above her head.
Another rustle in the woods. The crickets stopped chirping.
"Chris is out there. He HAS to be! I know I was faking a little bit, playing games in my mind. But let's get real here. There is no way he'd ever leave me tied to a post like this and just go home. Chris is out there somewhere close by. Watching."
She waited and listened, but the noise had stopped and the crickets started up again.
"Logic tells me that there a number of options to get him out in the open where I can see him. If he thought I was in danger he'd come. I could also call out to him and he'd probably come to see what I needed. He'd be feeling a little smug, of course, in seeing me break down! The most fun way to get him to show himself, might be to become as alluring as I can be."
Brenda turned around again, though it was more difficult this time, because her legs were really getting tired.
"Hello Mr. Post! This could be fun!"
She pushed herself into the post, grinding my mound against it, one breast on either side.
"This had better work. If he doesn't come to me before too long then I am going to be one very tired and frustrated woman!"
She rubbed her cheek against the post feeling the semi-coarseness.
"This isn't so bad. I feel my body responding and there is almost a gratitude to the post."
She turned her face to feel the wood rub across her hot lips. She kissed it, playfully, seductively, needfully. Brenda closed her eyes and let the mood swell inside her until all the rubbing and grinding came without any conscious coxing on her behalf. Her tummy was turning flips -- that's where she really felt it when she was in wanting. It wasn't the only place, but it could be a painful place. And speaking of painful places, her nips were so hard they were really hurting now! She touched one of them to the post, carefully. The reaction was half way intense! Her nipples were so touchy now. Her whole body was touchy! Her breathing quickened, her heart raced. Brenda leaned back as far as she could with her thighs still gripping the post. She moved her hips and began rubbing her mound against the wood. Her head hung backward, stretching her neck to the post. The wind blew through her dark hair and the robe. Brenda moaned and groaned almost silently until she was nearly worn out. Lots of good feelings, but still no prize. No Chris either! She backed away from the post, but her legs felt so wobbly she could barely stand.
"Is it my imagination or is it beginning to get light out? What time does the sun come up? This time of year around five or five-thirty, I'd guess. Dang! Has it been that long?"
Real life was beginning to come crashing back again. First off, Brenda didn't want to be standing here bound to the post when the sun came up. Up until now, no one had seen her from the road because it was dark, but in the day, she would really be out in plain sight. More traffic too. Just one glance in this direction is all it would take to make a driver stop and gawk at the pretty, naked girl leaning against a post. Second, she had to go to work soon, and she was going to be too worn out, not to mention having to explain why she was so late. Where was Chris? Was he at home asleep? Did he get into an accident? Was she going to end up like this until someone else found her?
"No. It's not been that long. My eyes must just be getting used to the dark. It only takes 45 minutes for the eyes to become accustomed to the night. Something like that anyway. Ok, so have I been here 45 minutes, or from 9:30 until 5:00? Seven and a half hours? It doesn't feel much closer to nine o'clock at night than five in the morning. So which is it?"
Her legs certainly felt like she had been on her feet for seven hours, and her arms were almost numb now, like a pair of useless dried limbs that could be pulled right out of their sockets with ease.
"How long does it take before the human body becomes fatigued when in bondage? Depends on how you're bound up, of course."
Brenda tried to recall the last time Chris had her tied up like this. It was in the basement, about five months ago, and he left her down there with her wrists chained up high in the rafters. She remembered how dark it was, with no way of knowing if it were day or night outside.
"My muscles were screaming by the time he came back, but how long did that one last? Certainly not seven hours!"
That was encouraging to know. So she hadn't been out here that long at all, it just seemed that way.
"Don't forget to allow for adrenalin, say an excitement factor of a billion or so, and being tied to this post out in the open, with cars driving by was certainly exciting. A lot more exciting than being in the basement."
Time to get serious. She leaned forward against the post again. It was intriguing just how turned on she still was, even in her weakened condition. Just the touch of her body against the post, and off went the fireworks.
"Come on post! Do to me what I cannot do to myself!"
The air made her flesh tingle, like flashes of fire and ice. Inside, her tummy was tied in painful knots. Her pussy was so swollen, so wanting, so very alive as was the rest of her.
"Oh gosh, give me a climax! Give me release. Push me over the edge so I can float for while; so I can feel numb!"
She moaned out loud - a sound born in the depths of time, back when cavewomen found out why there were cavemen. Every nerve was sending signals to her brain and it was all that she could do to keep from screaming out loud.
"Chris! Where the hell are you. You're missing it, sweetheart!"
A wave passed over her. A wave that might announce the coming of a tsunami, a tidal wave. Oh yes, it was inside her for sure and it was building. It said it was coming and all she could do was invite it. She could not make it come quicker, nor could she stop it. Brenda shivered suddenly, feeling the world around her, the cool, damp and sticky night air, the robe fluttering against her in the breeze. Then just as the first wave tickled her shore, she felt weak in the expectation of a storm coming. She lowered her head and tried to compose herself. She took a deep breath.
"I want release, not from these chains, not from this post, I want him inside me!"
Her eyes opened hopefully. She looked around and still he was not there.
"Ok, I didn't want to have to do this, but if it's going to take calling to him to get him to come out and make me whole again, then so be it . . ."
"Chris!" she called out loud, though her voice sounded softer and meeker than she had intended.
No answer. She frowned, but only for an instant before trying again. Someone a foot away might have heard that one, like a sick child calling weakly for it's mother. She took a deep breath and called out again,
"CHRIS!"
That time, she achieved the volume she wanted. This was hard for her though, very hard. It was like being on the front porch again, calling to the passing cars that never stopped. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"CHRIS! HONEY?"
Silence - a silence that walks over you and sprinkles chills down your spine.
"MASTER!"
Brenda had never called him 'Master' before. It was something else to be tied up in the woods and calling out that word. The sound of it made her cringe, but it was also exciting. Another door had been unlocked.
"MASTER!" That took everything she had.
She touched her forehead, damp with her own sweat, to the dried post, and closed her eyes in shame, frustration, hope, and confusion.
"Well it's about time, babe."
She breathed a sigh of relief. Those were HIS words. Then came that loving touch of his hand on the side of her neck. Chris was here at last!
End ;-)
