 |
|||
|
|
Ch 45
Dianne and I became pals. We met for lunch regularly, went shopping and ran around together. She invited me to her place and we watched a couple of her movies. They were very erotic and I became very excited, especially by the one about the orgasm machine. The movie was obviously genuine unrehearsed, and watching her face during her orgasms was fantastic. After the movie I wanted to make love to Dianne but she wouldn’t do it. She simply will not have sex with anyone, man or woman, unless she is forced as violently as possible and I’m not a dominant. I offered to submit to her but she wouldn’t dominate me either. We both knew that either attempt would be unsatisfactory.
Dianne was interested in my love of self-bondage and watched me tie myself up several times. I stripped, lay on the floor and put myself into a strict hogtie, then rolled around rubbing my breasts against the carpet. I looked up at her invitingly, hoping she might want to touch me but no luck. After an hour I untied myself and then suspended myself from a ceiling hook by my wrists. I wiggled as enticingly as possible but she was still unmoved. I finally ended up spread wide on her bed. I tied my legs further apart than I ever had but even the vision of my helpless and very moist pussy failed to excite her. I begged her to do something sexy to me but she wouldn’t, she just sat cross legged and watched me intently for a while, then made sure that I couldn’t get lose and left the room.
She thought she was being cruel but didn’t truly think that I could still get very excited and have orgasms in bondage. I lay back, slipped into a very erotic fantasy involving Dianne, myself, and my mother hanging in the loft of Mom’s barn. I was able to create a delicious heat between my legs and was crooning softly to myself when she peeked in. She snorted derisively, thinking I was faking and wouldn’t believe me when I told her that I had been close to having an orgasm.
She got dressed while I attempted to convince her that I truly could cum in bondage. When she was fully clothed she kissed me on my cheek and told me that she was going out to run a few errands and to enjoy myself while she was gone. Then she put a gag in my mouth and a blindfold on my eyes and went out. I heard the front door close, lay back and tried to recapture my fantasy about Mom’s barn. It didn’t take long.
I imagined Mom, Dianne and me hanging in a clump, our bodies pressed together while Mom’s boss from the bank whipped us. After he whipped us in a group he took us down, tied Dianne and me together on the lawn with our faces in each other’s pussy, and took Mom up to the loft where he tortured her on the rack. Dianne and I licked each other while listening to Mom shrieking and laughing, punctuated by an occasional crash from the falling weight. When we paused from eating each other, and if I listened carefully I could hear the whip on Mom’s skin, and her moans of delight.
After several hours he brought Mom back, exhausted and covered with whip marks and tied her to Dianne and took me to the loft. He locked me to the plank and whipped every inch of my body while he dropped the weight time after time and in every possible variation. I had orgasm after orgasm but the greatest pleasure was wondering if he would tie me to Mom when he brought Dianne up for her turn.
I’d worked myself into a long steady delightful buzz in my pussy when Dianne walked in.
“Very interesting,” she said softly. I hadn’t heard the door open. I opened my eyes for a second, then thrust my pelvis upward and allowed my orgasm to burst loose.
After my orgasm she kept me tied to the bed (ok by me), removed my gag and blindfold, and sat crossed legged between my knees. Her mocking expression was gone.
“That was very impressive,” she said quietly.
I wriggled happily.
“I didn’t really leave,” Dianne told me. “I waited in the living room, then tiptoed back and watched you. “Was that a real orgasm? It didn’t look faked.”
I shook my head slowly. “It was real.”
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
“Me, you, and my mother tortured together by her boyfriend on the farm,” I answered.
“Wow, tell me more.” She rubbed my feet while I told her about my daydream. Then I told about all the things I did at the farm. I convinced her that the rack really did exist (she thought I’d made it up), I told her about tying myself to trees and fence posts and the front porch. She looked skeptical when I told her that Mom did those things too, but I eventually got her to believe them. For some reason the story of my night alone tied to the rack while Mom went out on a date really got Dianne excited. She squirmed around and squeezed her breasts a few times but it wasn’t enough to make her touch me. She untied my hands and watched intently as I played with my pussy. I looked into her eyes until I came (which didn’t take long) then untied my legs and took a long shower. Afterwards we ordered pizza.
I invited her to the farm and we drove out for the weekend. I stopped at the gate and showed her the posts.
“This is where we tie ourselves on warm nights,” I told her.
Dianne looked up and down the road.
“You really stood here all night?” she asked.
“Many nights,” I answered. “Naked and bound, so did my mother. I’ve even fallen asleep tied here.”
“And no one came by and screwed you?”
“Nope. No luck at all.”
“When did you stop doing it?”
“We didn’t stop,” I laughed. “I do it all the time when I’m here. So does Mom.”
Mom wasn’t home that afternoon; she worked at the bank until one o’clock, then went to her boyfriend’s place after work. We had the place to ourselves and I showed Denise all round the farm.
She thought my adventure tied in the gazebo while the neighbor plowed the fields was pretty neat, especially for a teenaged girl, and she agreed that the posts and railings on the porch were ideal for bondage, but too cramped for a good whipping. (Not enough room to swing the whip), but the big limbs under the shade tree were ideal for the purpose.
Her mouth opened in awe as we stood beneath the barn crane and I told her how I like to hang by my wrists or ankles.
“All the way up there?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Anyone could see you,” she said looking toward the road.
“True, which is why I only do it after dark,” I told her.
“Why not just do it in the daylight?” she asked.
“Because we live here,” I laughed. “And believe it or not, Mom and I still have decent reputations in this town.”
“Oh.”
“But sometimes I tie myself just inside the loft door. I stay in the shadow but I think that if anyone looked carefully they could see me.”
“What sort of position?”
“Some times I tie my wrists over my head and just stand there, but the best is in a chair with my legs open.”
“And no one has ever seen you?”
“Not that I know of. I made a dummy by stuffing a shirt and pair of jeans with wadded up newspaper and put it the chair, then I went down to the road and looked back. Most people driving past wouldn’t notice it, but if anyone looked close enough they could see me.”
“Interesting.”
“Come on, I’ll show you the loft.”
We climbed up and Dianne peered around the dusty old building. She glanced at the plank but seemed more interested in the loft crane. She edged close to the door and peered cautiously out.
“You actually hang from that?” she asked, pointing to the crane.
“Yep.”
Daylight or not, I decided to demonstrate. I showed Dianne how to work the lever on the ratchet brake that lowered the cable, then I undressed, tied my wrists under the crane. I stepped off into space and gasped with a sweet little orgasm as soon as the rope tightened. I hung twenty feet above ground and looked over the fields. It felt so nice to be up there. I twisted until I was facing Dianne. She inched close to the edge and peered at the ground, then looked at me in awe. Dianne was mildly afraid of heights and was impressed at my bravery.
“You look very sexy,” she said.
“I love this,” I told her. “And I can hang upside down, or with my legs apart with a spreading bar.”
“Which is your favorite?”
“Hanging by big hooks through my boobs.”
“I mean for real,” she said.
“Right side up with my legs tied apart, facing the road with a line of school busses driving slowly past.”
After about ten minutes I saw a car approaching and told her to lower me to the ground. I watched the car wondering if they could see me, and almost hoped that they could, but Dianne got me to ground level before the car passed the house. It didn’t slow down so I suppose the driver didn’t notice the naked girl dropping slowly from the sky.
On the ground I untied myself and offered her the rope. She looked up at the crane and thought about it, and said that she would try it later. She wanted to experience the rack first. I think she was still a bit afraid of the height.
We climbed back up and I showed her the rack. It’s funny how primitive the thing was, over the years I’d gotten so used to it that I hadn’t looked closely. The plank was worn smooth by my body and some of the rope was faded and frayed.
“I think I need to get some new ropes,” I said. “And the board could use a coat of varnish.”
Dianne didn’t care what the thing looked like; she was impressed that it actually existed. She ran her hand softly along the surface.
“You really tie yourself to this?” she marveled.
“We sure do.”
“And you are serious about your mother tying herself to it too?” she asked.
“Ask her yourself when she gets home,” I said.
She looked at the weight, a rusty pile of old tractor parts held together with logging chain. It sat on the edge of the loft looking harmless. It was attached to the rope, ready to drop and yank someone into masochistic delight.
I climbed onto the plank and tied my ankles to the end, then I tied my wrists to the weight rope, stretched out and let Dianne look me over. Her eyes were huge as I reached for the stick, then pushed the weight off. Dianne screamed in surprise when she saw my body shoot the length of the plank then fly up and slam back down. I had a delicious orgasm, especially helped by the fact that she was watching. It took a few minutes for the sickle to cut the rope so I lay on the rack, my body held as tight as a bow string until the rope parted and the weight fell to the floor below. When I got my breath back and my legs stopped shaking I untied myself and hauled the weight back up. Dianne still stared at me in awe as I rigged the ropes so that this time my feet would be yanked apart. I threaded the ropes through pulleys on the side walls, tied the ropes to my ankles and stretched out on the plank. I set the pole to push the weight off then tied my wrists to the top of the plank. I grinned at Dianne and kicked the pole. The weight dropped, my legs were yanked wide apart and my body was jerked tight. Nice, nice orgasm!
When I could focus my eyes I saw a look of absolute awe on Dianne’s face. She bent over me, looked deep into my eyes.
“My God,” she whispered in awe. “Are you ok?”
I saw that she was naked.
“I’m just fine,” I told her.
“Can I try it?” she asked.
“Give me a moment,” I said, delighting in the pink haze that rolled gently through my being.
She shook her head. “Take all the time you need,” she said. She stepped back, folded her hands and waited patiently for me to untie myself.
After a few minutes I released myself and rolled off the plank. I motioned for her to climb on.
I made her try the regular method first and secured her ankles to the top of the plank. I tied her wrists to the weight rope, then I caressed her breasts long and teasingly, and despite herself, her nipples got very hard. Then, when she wasn’t expecting it I pushed the weight off. She screamed when her body was hurled along the plank. I watched as her body was snapped as taut as a bowstring, then relaxed for a second, and retightened as the weight rebounded. She didn’t have an orgasm. She liked the pain in her wrists and shoulders but it wasn’t quite intense enough for her.
“What did you think?” I asked.
“Very nice,” she cooed. “I could get to like this but I’d prefer to have some cruel male doing it to me.”
“So would I,” I said. “But we don’t have one living here on the farm.”
“You should hire a farm hand,” she said. “One who could double as a torturer.” That’s not a bad idea.
“I’ll mention it to Mom,” I said. “Want to go again?”
“Yes.”
I let her lie on the plank while I pulled the weight up and retied the rope. This time I removed the sickle blade so the rope wouldn’t be cut.
“Ready?” I asked. She nodded.
I pushed the weight off and her body slammed taut. I allowed her to lie there while the ropes tightened steadily on her wrists. She moaned in pleasure but didn’t cum.
I let her experience that for a while, then I changed her position so that the weight tightened a rope through her pussy. Dianne liked that one so much that she almost had an orgasm. After that I tied cords to her nipples and attached light weights. I dropped them about two seconds before the main weight fell. Dianne giggled and told me that she’d had a small orgasm that time. I became determined to make her come like she’d never come before.
I tried something that I’d never done. I tied her in the chair with her back to the edge of the loft and ran ankle ropes to the side pulleys. I added a crotch rope that I draped over a rafter above her head and attached to the weight, then put two cords on her nipples and hooked them to small weights. I trotted around adjusting the ropes and trying to get the lengths just right. Dianne waited patiently in the chair at first, then began nagging when I took too long to suit her. I shut her up with a gag.
When everything was ready I removed her gag, kissed her on the lips, and pushed the weight off. The result was spectacular!
Dianne’s legs shot wide apart, then a split second later the rope between her legs tightened and lifted her a few inches out of the chair. Her eyes were huge and her mouth opened to scream when the smaller weights jerked her breasts upward.
Her body dropped back into the chair when the weight bounced, then it snapped upward again. This time she screamed.
And screamed.
I felt a deep satisfaction as I listened to my friend’s screams. I knew that she was enjoying a terrific orgasm. I smiled at her until she ran out of wind. Then she took a deep breath and screamed again. I chuckled until it dawned on me that Dianne’s bottom was several inches off the chair and the chair itself was several inches off the floor. In fact, the only things holding her to the chair were the ropes on her wrists.
Oh my God! I’d forgotten that the sickle wasn’t in place. The rope wasn’t being cut!
I grabbed a knife and sawed through the rope. The weight fell away and Dianne and her chair crashed to the floor. The nipple cords tightened again, then one came loose followed by the second. Dianne screeched and writhed in the chair.
I knelt and peered into her eyes. They actually seemed to be slightly crossed.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
It took her a moment for her eyes to focus. She blinked at me a few times, then said:
“Again.”
I collapsed in laughter.
Dianne was serious about repeating the experience, but I decided that guest or no guest, it was my turn to have some fun. I untied Dianne and took her place in the chair but I didn’t tie myself to it. I simply tied my hands behind my back. I told her how to set up all the ropes and weights, then told her to push the weight off the edge. It was wonderful!
My legs slammed open, the rope tightened in my crotch and lifted me off the chair, the cords felt like they were going to take my nipples off and lightning was crackling through my belly, all within half a second. I hung in space, held up by the rope through my pussy and kept down by the ropes on my ankles. Nothing supported my back and my body flopped backwards until my head was lower than my legs. I saw the cords slip off my nipples and disappear over the rafter. Everything went slack as the weight rebounded, then tightened again, and I fainted.
When I woke up Dianne was dabbling at my face with a damp wash cloth.
“Are you still alive?” she asked. I looked at her and said:
“Again.”
After I returned to the world of the living Dianne wanted to ride the chair again but she asked if we could increase the weight, and I was dumb enough to go along. We rummaged through the scrap metal pile looking for heavy pieces to add. (We must have been quite a sight: two naked girls straining and struggling to pull about a hundred pounds of rusty scrap metal up to the loft.) We got very sweaty and dirty and by the end of the day we were a mess. We added so much metal to the weight became so heavy that we could barely lift it.
I went first and tested the extra weight on the plank with a simple straight position. It was terrific! The pressure was incredible and I felt my body being stretched very painfully. For the first time I think I felt what it was like to be stretched on a medieval rack. My shoulders hurt fiercely and the pain increased until the rope cut and the weight fell away. I decided to try it again, much to Dianne’s indignation, and this time I left a foot of slack at my ankles. When the weight dropped I was hurled along the board so fast that I felt my joints popping, which was frightening, which led to a fantastic orgasm! The rope jerked so tight that it took the skin off my wrists and ankles. The plank bounced high into the air, higher than I’d ever experienced, and landed with an enormous crash. For a split second I was afraid that I might flip over the edge, plank and all. I saw myself spinning through the air and the extra fear sent me over the edge of ecstasy. Dianne rushed to untie me and I was so dazed that I simply rolled off and collapsed on the floor. I thought that she was concerned for my safety until I saw that she was pulling the weight back up by herself. I watched in a daze as she scrambled onto the rack and retied herself. I should have stopped her but I was still groggy from my orgasm. Dianne tipped the weight off with the push stick and all hell broke loose.
The weight fell so hard that the whole barn shook. I watched as her body rebounded off the saw horses and twisted in the air. She landed on her side, then the weight slackened and she bounced upward again. The weight tightened the rope again and her body slammed down. I wondered if she might flip completely over and land on her face. I imagined her breasts flattening under her, which I knew she would like. The barn creaked and dust sifted down to sparkle in the beams of sunlight. I smiled at Dianne’s screams and hoped she was enjoying the same intense orgasm that I had.
Unfortunately when she landed on her side her shoulder was dislocated.
It took several minutes for it to sink into my dulled brain that something was wrong. When I realized that she really was hurt I staggered to my feet and untied her. She was sobbing, half in pain and half in delight and managed to tell me that she’d heard something snap in her shoulder.
I got her dressed and managed to get her down the ladder, then put on my clothes and drove her to the hospital.
“What do we say when they asked what happened?” Dianne asked me in the car. She had calmed down and slouched easily in the seat. Her injured arm lay across her lap.
“We tell them that you fell off a ladder,” I said.
“Oh, I just hate lying to people,” she said.
I looked at her in astonishment. “Would you rather tell the doctor that you were torturing yourself?”
“I suppose it would depend on how cute the doctor is.”
“Look, I live in this town and everyone knows my mother, so for once in your life, behave.”
“Oh, all right,” she giggled. “I guess that I can’t let him peek up my skirt either.”
“How can you think about sex at a time like this?” I asked.
“It’s easy, see?” She lifted her arm out of the way with her good hand, pulled her skirt up and slipped her fingers into her panties. She scrunched lower, spread her legs and played with herself all the way to the hospital. She wouldn’t take her hand out until I drove into the hospital parking lot.
People stared as we sat in the emergency room. I’d tried to clean us up, but we still had dirt smudges and rust streaks on our skin, and our hair was a mess. Dianne sat stoically waiting to be seen by the doctor and even as dirty as she was she still carried herself like a queen.
We told the doctor that we’d been working in the barn and she had fallen off the ladder. Considering how we looked, the story wasn’t hard to believe.
The doctor was young and nice looking. He was amazed at how calmly Dianne endured the pain. (He had no idea that the terrible throbbing in her shoulder was matched by a fantastic throbbing in her pussy.) He asked her to remove her shirt and was a little disconcerted when she undressed completely. She lay back on the gurney stark naked and looked up at him.
“That isn’t necessary,” he told her.
“I landed across the top of a horse stall when I fell,” she said. “My legs were open and I think I might have injured my pelvic area. It’s a little sore.”
I glared at her from behind the doctor but she just smiled and opened her legs wider.
“All right,” he said. “But I’ll have the nurse step in here.”
“Of course, but Mary is here,” Dianne said nodding toward me. “And I’m a nurse myself and I’m not worried about modesty in the emergency room.”
‘Or any where else,’ I thought to myself.
“Very well.” The doctor dutifully gave her crotch a thorough examination while she smiled sweetly at him between her knees. He couldn’t find anything wrong at her pussy and sent her to X-ray for her shoulder. (She reluctantly agreed to put on a gown before they wheeled her through the hospital.) The test showed that her shoulder was dislocated but not broken so he reset it and put her in a brace.
He noticed the rope marks on her wrist and looked at them closely, then he took her other hand and examined the deep marks there. Dianne met his eyes with an expression of complete innocence. He pointedly looked at the marks on her ankles but didn’t say anything. He looked at me and I quickly folded my arms to hide my wrists, but he’d already seen them.
“Did you get those scrapes falling off a ladder too?” he asked me, faintly sarcastic.
I blushed furiously, but my pussy tingled anyway. The doctor looked pointedly at the rope marks on my ankles but made no comment.
“I believe that the doctor suspects that we have been up to something naughty,” Dianne said as I drove home.
“Oh, how could he ever think that?” I asked. “What with you being so ladylike and all.”
“I think the rope marks gave us away,” she said. “BOTH of our rope marks.”
“So do you think he sensed that he was dealing with a pair of masochistic lesbians?”
“Probably, but don’t be too worried, that sort of thing happens all the time in emergency rooms.”
“Oh?”
“You’d be surprised at the people who come in with sexual injuries,” she said. “I could tell you stories.”
“Well, at least I didn’t strip naked in front of the man,” I said.
“Only because I beat you to it.”
“I think it’s a good thing you weren’t in the chair when we added the extra weight,” I said. “It might have dislocated your legs from your pelvis.”
“You may be right,” she said. “But I still want to try it.”
When Mom came home I introduced Dianne. We’d managed to clean ourselves up but couldn’t hide Dianne’s injured shoulder. Mom was gracious but I knew that she wasn’t happy about what we’d done. I cooked dinner and Mom and Dianne relaxed on the porch. Over dinner Dianne told Mom in explicit detail how exciting the experience was, including her medical exam, and she was so descriptive that Mom was squirming in her chair. We didn’t tell Mom about riding the rope in the chair. Never the less, she made me promise never to increase the weight again.
She went to the barn intending to remove the extra weight. I offered to help but she insisted on going alone. Dianne and I sat on the back porch and shortly after Mom went into the barn we heard a terrific crash and watched a cloud of dust waft out of the loft. We waited a long time but Mom didn’t reappear, so I climbed up to the loft.
Sure enough, the extra weight was still on the rope and Mom was still on the plank. She was naked except for her panties and was stretched very tightly. She blushed when I came in.
“I decided to test it for myself,” she said. “But the rope didn’t cut.”
“Oops, we still haven’t reinstalled the sickle blade,” I told her.
“Ah, then it’s a good thing you were here,” she said.
“It sure is,” I said, and started to untie her.
“Actually, there’s no hurry,” she said blushing again.
“Ok, how long do you want to stay here?”
“Give me a few hours,” she said.
When I went back at nine o’clock her ropes were so taut that I couldn’t budge them. Mom was very pale and her hands and feet were purple, but she didn’t want me to release her.
“Let me stay here all night,” she asked.
“No way, Mom,” I said. “You could get gangrene from the loss of circulation.”
“You’ve spent the night tied here,” she said.
“I wasn’t tied nearly this tight,” I answered. “I’m taking you inside right now. I’ll help you spend a night in bondage some other time, but not tonight.”
“Oh, all right.”
I had to cut the ropes with a knife, and then practically carry her to her room. Dianne helped as I tucked her into bed.
|
|
|