Tina

TINA


Part 1

When I was growing up, I had three very close friends.  My
name is Tina.  My friends' names were (and still are) Alice,
Gigi and Natasha.  We were very close, did everything
together and went everywhere together.

Besides these three female friends, there were also two boys,
George and Biff, who were in our group.

As kids, we played together.  In our early grammar school
years, we played tag, hide 'n seek, and other similar games.
Later, as we grew older, we played all sorts of sports:
baseball, football and volleyball.  We girls also talked
about boys a lot and the boys used to talk to us about girls.

As a group, we shared together our first cigarettes and first
beers.  We often hiked in the woods nearby.

In high school, the boys started spending more time with
other boys but we still got together often.  The boys tried
out for football and baseball (they were not tall enough for
basketball) while we girls played volleyball and basketball.
There were times when we girls put on all the football pads
and, with helmets on, we would sneak onto the field during
scrimmages.  The boys knew we were there of course, and I
also think the coaches knew it too, but it was fun and we
were never hurt, at least badly.

In grammar school, oh I guess about fifth or sixth grade, we
often played cowboys and indians in the woods.  After seeing
some movies, it was inevitable that eventually we would end
up tieing up the captives.  And we did.  I know I wasn't the
first one tied.  The boys were tied just like the girls.

I do remember the first time I was tied: I was afraid because
the idea of losing my freedom, even to my friends, was
without precedent.  And then when George tied my hands behind
me and marched me along, I lost all my fear.  In fact, in a
strange way, I sort of liked it.

We played several more times, over the whole spring, summer
and fall before I was found out.  It was Gigi who said it.

"Isn't it strange that Tina gets caught so easily?  You might
almost think she enjoyed being tied up.  Do you Tina?"

The others stood around, looking at me curiously, and I knew
I had to answer.  My first response was a giggle, but then I
said, "Whenever you have winners, there has to be losers.  I
just sort of lose at this game a lot."

Alice just shook her head, "No, Gigi, I think you might be
right.  Tina, be honest, why DO you get caught so easily?"

Mischievously, I answered, "Maybe I just don't want to run
through the brush?"

Biff guffawed, "Tina, that's weak.  I think you do like to
get tied up."

Just then Natasha said, "Well, whatever it is, it's time for
me to get home.  Mom said if I was late for supper another
time this week, I'd get spanked."

We all looked at her with shock.  It was George who asked,
"Do you still get spanked?"

Momentarily taken aback, Natasha answered, "Well, sure.
Don't you guys?"

We all shook our heads; then I asked, "Who does it to you?"

"Well, usually it's my mother, but dad does it when I've done
something really awful.  He spanks my older sister Eleanor
too.  I think he spanks my mother too."

There was silence as we all took this in.  It was a mark of
how close we were that neither of us thought of teasing
Natasha or even laughing about it.

That nite I laid in bed, thinking about what was said that
day.  I finally admitted to myself that I did lose often so I
could be tied up.  I wondered what that meant.

We grew away from the cowboys and indians as the weather got
colder and the next two years we didn't play at all.

I think it was the summer between our eighth and ninth grades
that we had decided to go for a hike.  We had packed our
knapsacks and were properly dressed in flannel shirts, jeans,
hiking boots and gloves.  We hiked for about two hours and
had stopped to have a smoke.  Biff and George had not picked
up the habit.  Alice only smoked once in a while.

We were laying there, when Gigi said, "Hey, I found something
on the bus the other day.  Might interest you Tina."

She handed me a magazine.  On the cover was a girl dressed
very much as I was, but in addition her wrists were tied in
front of her and a stick had been inserted between her arms
and her back.  This had her wrist pulled tightly against her
belly.  Her ankles were roped together but with a piece of
rope between the ankles about two feet long.  In her mouth
was a red rubber ball with a string through it and it looked
like it was tied behind her head. I just starred at it.  When
I looked up, I saw Gigi pulling some rope from her knapsack. 
"Want to try it?" she asked.

I shrugged, and then replied, "Why not?"  I tried to be
nonchalant, but a strange sort of anticipation had come over
me.  I wondered what was happening.

Gigi turned to Biff, "See if you can find a stick about three
feet long."  Then, coming to me, she said, "Hold out your
wrists Tina."  When I had done so,  she continued, "Now,
let's see, I don't think we want to tie your wrists tightly
together.  Here, let me do it this way."

So saying, she wrapped my left wrist four times, and then,
leaving about three inches of slack, she did the same with my
right wrist.  By this time, Biff had returned with a fairly
straight, three foot stick.  Gigi nodded her approval.

"Now, Tina," Gigi said, "pull your wrists back against your
stomach as tightly as you can."  When I had done so, she
began to fit the stick inside my left arm, which was bent at
the elbow, but behind my back.  She then carefully slid the
stick across my back, and then she tugged and pushed the
stick in front of my right arm.  When the stick was pushed
all the way through, there was about three inches outside
each of my arms.  Tina stepped in front of me and, after
checking how close my wrists were to my stomach, she said,
"Try to move your hands Tina."

I did, but found I couldn't move them at all.  She smiled at
the look of consternation on my face.  "I can't move them
Gigi," I said unnecessarily.  She just nodded and proceeded
to take the excess rope on my wrists and wrapped it several
times around my wrists.

With a speculative expression on her face, she asked, "Want
to try the ankle rope too?"

The fat was in the fire.  How was I to answer?  After a
moment's thought, I replied, "Go ahead.  I'll give it a try."

Very quickly, she had three wraps around my right ankle, and
she knotted that.  Then, she took the other end of the rope
and wrapped it around my left boot.  When it was knotted, she
said, "Take a couple steps.  I don't know how this will
work."

Gingerly, I took a couple steps.  After three, I tried a
little longer step and nearly stumbled when the ankle rope
snubbed my progress.

Solicitously Gigi asked, "Want me to take it off?"

I shook my head.  "No, let me try it a little more."
Carefully, I walked around the area.  I began to lift my
booted feet higher, as if I were walking normally, and found
that I could walk easily, although my steps were a little
shorter.  I stood in front of Gigi and said, "I think I can
handle this.  Shall we hike?"

With a grin on her face, Gigi asked, "Don't you want the rest
of it?

I looked at her in puzzlement, then it dawned on me.  "Do you
have a little red ball?"

She nodded, so I turned around and held my mouth open.  In a
moment, the first ever gag was in my mouth.  I felt Gigi tie
it behind my head.  I tried to move the ball around and
finally got it comfortable.  Then I tried to say "Let's go,"
but all that came out was "Lesh o."

The others laughed, but they got the message so off we went,
just like any other group of thirteen year olds, except one
was bound and gagged.

I stayed that way for two hours.  It was only when we stopped
for lunch, and after Alice and George had prepared lunch over
the campfire, that Gigi removed my gag and ropes (I didn't
know enough to call it bondage yet).

Natasha asked how I felt.  I examined the red marks on my
wrists and said, "I feel fine.  It was sort of, ah,
interesting to hike along that way."

When we were ready to start back, Biff asked me if I wanted
to be tied again.  I shook my head, saying, "No, it might not
be too good idea going downhill.  Don't worry, you'll get me
again," I promised gaily, not realizing how true it would be.

That summer, I think I was tied thirty times.

One day, when the boys had gone somewhere, the four of us
girls decided to get some sun.

Natasha asked, "Where'll we go?"

It was Gigi who asked me, "Tina, will you want to be tied
up?"

"Sure," was my snappy reply.

"Well, that rules out the pool or  the meadow," Natasha said.

"Why not my backyard?" I asked.

The others shrugged and very quickly we were in my yard.
Again, it was Gigi who took the lead in tieing me.  "Lay on
your belly, Tina," she instructed.

I did as she said.  Then, she stretched out my arms and legs
in the form of a huge X.  She had some tent pegs and a
hammer.  A peg was driven into the ground about a foot
further out from the furthest I could reach.  After we had
all stripped down to our swimsuit, she wrapped a rope several
times around my left wrist.  Then she tied the other end of
that rope to the peg just beyond my left hand.  She did the
same with my right wrist.  Then, with  the help of Alice and
Natasha, she hauled on my legs so that I was stretched out. 
Then, with the others holding each of my legs, she roped my
left ankle to the peg nearby and my right out the final peg.

"How's that?" Gigi asked solicitously, "too tight?"

I tried to pull against the ropes, and found a little slack,
and then I looked up at her and smiled, "No, this is okay."

I laid like that for an hour, and then they untied me and
turned me over, tieing me the same way, except face up.

We did the same thing on three other occasions.  We didn't
even remove the stakes.

Sometime after the third time, my mother said that she had
found the four pegs when she was mowing the lawn, and
wondered what they were.  Thinking fast, I told her we had
been playing a game.  My mother didn't say anything else.

Nothing much exciting happened the next two years.  Oh, I was
tied a lot.  My friends took it for granted now that Tina
enjoyed being tied, and they didn't have any objections.  We
went to drive-ins with me tied.  We went to movies where I
was tied to the seat.  A couple times, we went shopping at
the mall with me with my hands tied behind my back, with a
sweater over my shoulders.

It was the winter of my second year of high school, and I was
home for a holiday.  Mother always insisted I help with the
house work whenever I was home, so I ran the vacuum cleaner.
I was in my parents' bedroom and when I bent to put the plug
in the outlet, I noticed a hook on the bedpost.  Curious, I
thought, but I paid no attention to it.  Then, when I got to
the other side of the bed, I noticed a hook on the other
bedpost.  Definetly intrigued, I looked on the other two
posts and found similar hooks.

I wondered what this meant.  Of course I recalled my episodes
of being tied pegged out in the backyard, but it never
occurred to me to think my parents did the same thing.

It was late in the Spring, the following year.  My third year
of high school would soon end.  And I was again pegged out in
my back yard.  I was laying on my back and Gigi had just
helped me smoke a cigarette.  She asked me, "Are you
reasonably comfortable?"

I replied, "Sure.  What's up?"

"Well, we're going to leave you for a while.  Natasha has
something to show us.  You'll be safe here."

I was somewhat dubious, but I really wasn't too worried. 
"You won't be gone long, will you?  I mean with you guys
here, I've got protection.  By myself, I've got nothing."

Alice laughed, and said, "What're you afraid of?"

"Oh, every so often, the dog from across the street comes
over here."

Natasha interjected, "Come on girls.  If we don't go now, my
parents will be home and I won't be able to show you."

So they left me.

I really wasn't too concerned.  After all it was my own
backyard.  So I just sort of closed my eyes to enjoy the
rays. I had grown so accustomed to being tied like this that
I didn't even notice the tractioning.  I grew drowsy and I
guess I must have fallen asleep.  I awoke with a start,
pulling at my bonds, momentarily confused, until I realized
where I was.  I had no idea how long I had slept.  My hands
were tingling, which meant I probably was tied, all total
from when Gigi had tied me, about an hour and a half.  No big
deal: I had been pegged out for two hours once before.

Idly, I began to wonder what it was Natasha had had to show
the others.  I was startled out of my daydreaming by my
mother's voice.

"Tina, whatever are you doing there?"

"Oh, hi mom.  Just getting some sun."

"But you're tied down.  Who did this?  Here let me untie
you," she said dropping to her knees near my left wrist.

I giggled.  "Mom, Gigi tied me here.  We do it all the time.
You don't need to untie me."

Somewhat doubtfully she leaned back on her heels.  "Let me
get this straight.  You're here because one of your best
friends tied you here?"

"Yes."

"And you're here voluntarily?"

"Uh huh."

"And you do it frequently?"

I smiled and nodded.

My mother shook her head.  Then she smiled.  "Have you been
tied this way back here before?"

"Yes, probably ten or twelve times."

"So that's where the pegs came from," she laughed.  "Well, if
this is what you want, I won't interfere.  Just lay back and
enjoy it," she said as she got to her feet and walked away.

I was perplexed by her choice of words: 'just lay back and
enjoy it.'  That was the classic female response to
inevitable rape.  I had no time to think further for my three
friends returned.  With them were Biff and George.

Biff said, "Well, I see Tina's in her usual situation.
Enjoying yourself?" he asked teasingly.

"Sure am.  How about you?  Like what you see?"

That was the first time any of us had ever said anything
suggestive.  Oh, we used words like cock, cunt, shit and
fuck, but we never had said anything suggestive.

There was silence, then Biff grinned and answered, "Sure do.
You look great."

There was tension in the air; and then Alice said, "You
should have seen what Natasha showed us, Tina."

Relieved the tension was broken, I asked, "What did Natasha
show you?"

"Her ass," was Alice's answer.  "Her mother used a switch on
her ass last nite and she has ten, very vivid marks on her
ass cheeks."

I turned my head to try to see Natasha's face.  There was an
enigmatic smile on her face.  At that moment, I knew I was
found out, that my friend Natasha knew that I really enjoyed
my tie-ups; just like I knew that she secretly enjoyed her
disciplining.  I doubted (which I subsequently confirmed)
that any of the others knew what Natasha and I shared at that
moment.

After that first time, there were a few more instances when I
was tied in my backyard and left there by my friends.  Once,
I was bound face inward to a tree.  It was big tree so it was
just possible to bind my hands together when I wrapped my
arms around the tree.  My legs were tied in back and in front
so that I couldn't move them at all.  Fortunately, I was
wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt this time so the tree
bark didn't scratch my skin.

Another time, I was tied with my back to the tree and my
hands up over my head but together.  And then there came the
time that my arms were tied up but outward so that I looked
like a "Y."  Not only were my wrists tied but also my ankles
and thighs and belly; and, for the first time, ropes were
above and below my budding boobies which highly accentuated
them.

I complained to Alice while she was roping my boobies but
only half-heartedly.  Secretly, I was sort of curious to see
how it would feel.

With my arms stretched upward and outward, it wasn't as easy
for me to slouch in my ropes as I had before when I was tied
upright to something.  Also, my wrists got numb sooner. 
There was enough movement so that I could twist them and
that, combined with flexing my fingers, kept some feeling. 
The pressure on my boobies was something else.  I was
somewhat disappointed but since the ropes were somewhat
loose, I wondered if it wasn't necessary for them to be tied
tighter to get any significance.

I wasn't surprised to see Alice and Gigi leave (Natasha
hadn't come, having experienced the difficulties of her first
period yesterday).  I was not prepared to have my mother come
visit me again.

"That's a new way," she said, walking towards me.  "How's it
feel?"

This casual attitude sort of threw me, but I responded, "It's
fine mom."  Then I added, "What brings you out here?"

"Oh, I sort of thought this is where I would find you. 
You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, mom, I'm okay.  Hey, what did you mean, you thought
you'd find me here?"

"Well, it really wasn't hard.  I saw Alice and Gigi leave
and, since you didn't come in the house, I thought you might
not be able to."

I nodded.  What she said had made sense.  Then I began to
wonder why she was standing there, studying me so long.  It
dawned on me that she saw the ropes over my boobies.  I
blushed but she acted as if she hadn't seen my blush and she
said nothing about the ropes.

"Well, I've got work to do.  Want me to untie you or do you
want to just, er, hang around?"

We both giggled, and I answered, "No, Mom, I'm okay.  I'll
just continue to hang around, as you say it." Excitement
mounted among my friends as we prepared for our junior class
trip.  We would be gone for five days.  We bought new clothes
and everything was set.  And then I got sick.  The day before
the trip, I couldn't get out of bed except to crawl to the
bathroom to puke.  The day we were supposed to leave, I just
couldn't even get out of bed.

I was devastated and so were my friends.  Gigi said the trip
wouldn't be the same unless we all went together, but I
managed to gather enough strength to feebly wish them a good
trip.

That nite, I began to feel a bit better and my dad said that
if I felt okay the next nite, he'd pay my air fare to catch
up. That made me feel much better but the next day, I was
just as bad.  Ruefully, my dad said it looked like I wouldn't
be able to go, and, tearfully, I agreed.

On the third day, I felt better, but I knew it was foolish to
try to catch up. The fourth day, I was really feeling sorry
for myself.  I felt good but I just moped around the house. 
It was a beautiful day and I sort of dreamed of standing
against my tree.

Mother interrupted my daydreaming.

"How're you feeling dear?" she asked.

"Oh, Mom, I feel fine, but I feel so sad.  I really miss my
friends and we had planned so long for this trip."

She nodded, "I know dear, but it couldn't be helped.  You'll
get other chances to travel."

"Yeah, I know," I replied, somewhat impatiently, "but it
won't be the same."

"Oh, I don't know dear.  I guess this is as good a time as
any to tell you that your father and I are going to Europe
next year, and you're going with us."

It took a moment to sink in, then I ran to her and hugged
her.  I pulled back and said, "I'm sorry for being bitchy
Mom."

She smiled.  "That's alright dear.  I understand your
disappointment."  After a pause, she asked again, "Are you
sure you feel okay?"

"Hmmm?" I asked.  "Oh, yes, I feel fine.  Why?"

"Oh, I dunno.  I was just wondering if you wanted to spend
some time at your tree today?"

I was astonished.  I didn't know what to say.  My mother was
asking me if I wanted her to tie me to my tree.  She had a
sneaky smile on her face, but I recovered enough to say, "Oh,
Mom, would you?  Yes, I'd really like to spend some time
there.  Wait'll  I get some rope."

"I'll get the rope Tina.  You change into your leotard and
tights."

This perplexed me.  I had never been tied in my leotard but I
shrugged and started for my room when my mother added, "And
nothing else."

Startled, I looked around, but she had already disappeared. 
I had gone bra-less before, but I was curious.

In a few minutes, mother and daughter were walking to the
tree where mother was about to tie daughter.  I was struck by
the incredulity of it, but I just marched along.

When we got to the tree, my mother purely astonished me.  She
held out a leather strap thing.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's a suspension cuff.  It won't interfere with you
circulation.  Here, hold out your wrist and I'll put it on
you."

Utterly bemused, I held out my left wrist.  Quickly, mother
wrapped it around my wrist and buckled it tight.  Then she
took my other wrist and did the same with another cuff.  She
then knelt and put cuffs on both my ankles.  She then backed
me up to the tree and very quickly I was secured with my
wrists up and away, but she tied them backwards to limbs
behind me.  She then secured my ankles in such a way that I
was on my tiptoes with my legs splayed out and back.

This was a rather more strenuous position than I was used to,
but I said nothing.

If I was bemused by the cuffs, I was stupefied when mom began
to wind thinner rope around my left booby.  She put three
loops around it; and then, holding it down with her little
fingers, she began to tighten the wraps.  I stared at her
face, but it was all concentration so I looked down to watch
what she was doing.  My left booby began to swell outward as
the string tightened at the base.  When she was satisfied,
she began work on my right booby.  The rope slipped once and
she had to start all over, but finally my right booby was
circled with rope and it swelled out like my left.

"There, how's that? she asked, stepping back to admire her
work.


End of Part 1

TINA


Part 2


     This was an incredible situation.  Here I was tied to a tree
in my backyard.  That wasn't all that unusual, but it was my
mother who had tied me.  Not only had she tied me, but she had
used special leather cuffs.  Now I might be naive, but even I
had to know she hadn't run down to the corner store and bought
them while I'd been changing into leotards and tights.  And that
was also something: she told me what to wear.  And she had tied up
my boobs.

     After my mother left me in my ropes, I was just too confused
to experience anything for several minutes.  And then the ropes on
my boobs began to take effect.  Whenever I shifted in my ropes, the
ropes on my boobs sawed my skin.  This had the effect of pulling on
my boobs and very quickly I began to experience a
warm feeling, a wet feeling between my legs.  I had never had that
feeling before, at least not quite in this way.

     I looked up at the leather cuffs on my wrists.  Clearly, these
were well used.  It was no use ignoring it: my parents used
these.  But who was tied?  And then I remembered the hooks on my
parents' bed.  I was about to phrase a question in my mind when my
first ever orgasm over took me.  It was beyond belief.  Since then,
I've had many orgasms in bondage, but I can truthfully say this was
very powerful.  As I withered in my ropes, the waves of pleasure
continued to wash over me.  Bells clanged, whistles blew, and then
I blacked out.  When I came to, I was hanging limply.

     I didn't know what had happened but I reasoned that I had
crossed over to a new level of experience.  After several
minutes, I got both my feet under me and shifted in my ropes.
Right away, I felt the warm feeling building again between my legs,
so I twisted some more.  At last I made the connection:
the ropes on my boobs were the trigger.  I decided to test my
conclusion and, boom, another orgasm.  This wasn't quite as
intense, but it was extremely pleasurable, all the same.

     It took me longer to recover this time.  But when I did, I was
a far wiser young woman.  I finally knew what it was about
being tied up that drew me to it.

     Obviously, being tied up was no longer to be viewed as a
childhood game or something you did just for want of something
else to do.  A question then popped into my mind: which of my
friends knew or suspected?  Of all of them, I thought Natasha
was probably the most likely to know.  Which then got me to
thinking about her little game.  She was beaten regularly.  Did
she get her kicks from being beaten the way I did from being
tied up?  Obviously, I had to pursue that question.

     It was at this point that my mother returned.

     "Enjoying yourself?" she said archly.

     I only grinned.  "Sure am.  I learned a lot too."

     My mother raised a questioning eyebrow so I continued.  "These
cuffs, for instance.  They're not new."

     She nodded.  "Go on."

     "And these ropes across my breasts.  They were very, shall we
say, strategically placed."

     She grinned broadly, "Oh, you had a cum."

     Perplexed, I said, "A what?"

     "A cum, an orgasm.  You had a sexual completion.  How was it
Tina?"

     I blushed, and then when she snorted her impatience, I said,
"It was, er, great."

     For a long moment, my mother just stood there and smiled at
me.  Then she said, "Well, enjoy yourself.  I'll be back in an
hour."

     The next day, when my friends returned, they were all agog
trying tell me all they had done.  Of course I was excited for
them, but there was something different.  I too had had an
experience, but I chose not to tell them, at least not then.
Besides, mine would keep and they were simply being the good
friends they always had been.  But out of the corner of my eye,
I noticed Natasha eyeing me speculatively.  When our eyes locked,
I read the question and nodded.  She smiled.

     Almost a week went by before mom and I had a chance to sit and
talk.

     "Tina," she began, "you learned a lot last week.  And I won't
insult you by treating you childishly.  Your father and I
engage in what is called love bondage."

     I interrupted, "What's bondage?"

     She blinked, and then chuckled, "That, my darling daughter, is
what is done when you're tied up.  It's called bondage."

     "I never heard of it," I said.  "Is it used in polite
company?"

     Mother laughed, "Well, yes, but most people don't understand
it.  Anyhow, your father and I take turns tieing each other,
although recently, I've been the one tied more often than not."

     "Do you use it when you make love?" I asked.

     She nodded, "Sometimes, but there are many times when I'm tied
but there is no sex."

     "Why are you telling me this?"

     "Well, Tina, I mentioned to your father about finding you
pegged out in the backyard.  We wondered if there had been
something we had done, you know, left the bedroom door open or
something like that.  But then we concluded you learned by
yourself."

     "So why admit your involvement?" I asked.

     "Good question.  The answer is that now that you are aware, we
want to pass along to you what it took us years to learn.  Of
course, you must understand that it'll be just you and me; and,
while you might get a cum occasionally, it won't be induced by
me.  In other words, there will be no incest.  Okay?"

     I nodded, "Well, yes, I guess so, but what does it all mean?"

     She smiled, "Who knows?  Who cares?  You already knew you
enjoyed bondage.  What you experienced last week probably did
not make you want to stop it.  So why ask questions?"

     Worriedly, I hastened to say, "Mom, I'm real glad you and
daddy decided to share with me.  It's just that I do like it but I
want to know why I like it and the others don't."

     "How do you know the others don't?" she asked.

     Stumped for a moment, I stammered, "Well, I guess I just sort
of thought because they tie me all the time......"

     "Oh, Tina," my mother began, "being tied is only half of
bondage; someone has to do the tieing.  Can't you see that
someone who cares enough to tie someone who enjoys being tied is
someone who might enjoy the action also?"

     What she said made sense, but I pushed on, "But aren't there
people who like to tie up women and the women don't want to be
tied?"

     She nodded, "Sure there are, just as there are women who are
shrews, husbands and wives who cheat, and all sort of other
unpleasant things.  Just because some people abuse a thing, doesn't
make the thing itself bad."

     So I asked, "Do you enjoy being tied Mother?"
     
     She blinked, then blushed and nodded, "Very much.  I had some
of the same experiences you have had, but it was your father
who introduced me to love bondage.  I thrive on it.  I accept
those who think it is deviant behavior but I will not give it up."

     We sat for several moments, then mom asked, "You want to be
tied up?"

     "Right now?" I asked, "but it's raining."

     Mom laughed, "You don't always have to be tied outside.  Go on
up to your room and I'll be there in a moment."

     So I went to my room.  In a jiffy, mom came in with several
pieces of rope and some other things I couldn't make out.

     "Just lay on your bed, face up," she said, and when I had done
so, she sat beside me, took my right wrist and began to wrap
rope around it.  After about four turns, she tied it, leaving a
long tail.  She did the same to my left wrist.  Then, moving to
the foot of the bed, she did the same with each of my ankles.  She
then quickly secured my ankles and wrists to the four
corners of my bed.

     I was familiar with this tie, so I wasn't alarmed about not
being able to handle it.

     "How's that?" mother asked, stepping back and admiring her
work.

     "Well," I said, "it's just like being pegged out in the
backyard, except it's softer."

     She frowned as I said that, and then said, "You're right.
Well, I can't stretch you on this bed as it's too small.  Here,
let's untie you and then you can turn over."

     When she did, and I had turned over, she brought my hands
behind my back and tied them together.  She then tied my feet
together and pulled them up and back against my buttocks where
she used another rope to tie my feet to my wrists.

     "And what do you think of that?" she asked.

     This was definetly an altogether different experience.  My
body was secured and it was pulling against itself.  Yet, even as
I considered, I began to experience that wet feeling between my
legs.

     "It's definetly different," I managed to say with some strain. 
"I've never been in anything like this before."

     "It's called a hog-tie, Tina," my mother said.  There was
silence for a couple minutes as I endeavored to accustom myself to
this new bondage.  "Too much?" mother asked with some concern.

     "Nooo, I can handle it," I said.  Then I asked, "Are you tied
this way?"

     She chuckled, "It's one of my favorites, although I usually am
almost all nude and I almost always wear a crotch rope."

     "Almost nude?" I asked.

     "Yeah," she replied, somewhat reluctantly, as if she had said
more than she had wanted to say.

     I interrupted, "I'm sorry mom.  Don't answer.  It's none of my
business anyway."

     "No, no problem.  What I meant to say I frequently wear boots
and gloves when I'm tied."

     "And nothing else?" I giggled.

     Mom swatted my behind, saying, "Yes, smarty pants, nothing
else.  At least nothing else that would cover."

     This confused me, but the feeling in my crotch was building
and I decided to concentrate on that.

     I had a cum.

     It was an incredible experience.  Contrary to the first time,
this time I couldn't move at all.  All I could do was pant and say
'ngh,' 'ngh,' 'ngh.'

     After I came back to earth, mom asked, "Was it good?"  I
smiled lazily and nodded, so she continued, "Now you just stay
there for a while and let yourself feel some really tight
bondage."   

     Well, I'm here to tell you I really did feel that hog-tie.  I
kept experiencing a need to straighten out my legs, but, of course,
I couldn't do so.  I didn't have any more cums but I enjoyed my
feeling of helplessness.

     Mom returned eventually (an hour later, I learned) and asked
if I wanted to be untied.

     "No, not just yet.  I like this," I replied.

     "Oh you do, do you?  Well," continued my mother, "I didn't
come to release you from bondage, just to change your position."

     I brightened, "Well, you have more experience than I.  I'll
put myself in your hands."  I was untied but the ropes were not
removed from my wrists or ankles; and, after a few minutes of
stretching, Mom led me to her room.  She opened the double folding
doors of her closet and immediately I noticed something I hadn't
noticed before: there were hooks in the upper corners and in the
lower corners.

     Mom put four large books on the floor in the doorway of the
closet, mid-way between the edges of the doorway.  She then had me
stand on the books.  She then pointed to the upper corners.  I
nodded and held up my arms.  She motioned for me to stand on my
tiptoes and to reach for the corners.  First one wrist, and then
the other, was secured tightly to the corners.  I had a little
trouble balancing, but I managed.  Then, kneeling, she ran the
ropes from my ankles through the hooks, after which she said,
"Brace yourself," and she jerked both ropes.  This pulled my legs
apart, off the books and threw all my weight on my wrists.

     I went "Oooof."  Mom looked up at me, but still she held the
ropes.  She managed to tie one rope to the other and there I was,
in my familiar "X" but hanging by my wrists.  This was a serious
undertaking.

     "This more interesting?" Mom asked in a teasing tone of voice.

     It was hard to talk at first, but I finally managed to utter,
"Yes, it is very interesting, but can it be fun too?"

     Mom laughed.  "That's my girl," she said.  "Yes, it is a real
strain at first, but when your mind can control your body and you
learn to hang limply, you'll find it can be fun too.  Take your
time.  Give your body over to it."

     I was dubious, but I decided to try to take Mom's advice.  I
just let my head fall on my chest and tried to blank my mind.  It
was perhaps several minutes later when I came out of my trance to
realize my mother was sitting on her vanity bench, with a big grin,
smoking a cigarette!  The odd thing about this was that my mother
didn't smoke.  At least, I didn't think she did, because I had
never seen her with a cigarette.

     I smiled, and said, "You're right.  This can be really good.
But since when did you start to smoke?"

     "Oh, I do occasionally, on special occasions, like now.  And
don't tell me you don't," she said.

     I smiled.  "Well, yes I do, but it was never my intent to hide
it from you.  I just thought that since neither you nor dad
smoked, that I shouldn't around the house."  I stayed tied that way
for a half hour before my mother let me down.


End of Part 2

TINA


Part 3

     Mom and I came to an understanding about bondage.  She was
concerned that if she bound me too often I would drift away from my
friends and spend my entire day secured by ropes or chains or
whatever.  Since I needed her for her experience, I felt sort of
compelled to agree.  Deep down, I think I understood her argument,
and truly agreed.

     Anyhow, I did spend a lot of time with my friends.  And, from
time to time, I would be tied by them.  Things were going great as
the six of us entered our senior year of high school.  

     Inevitably, we all thought about college.  At first we were
confused because it appeared the group was breaking up.  The boys
had each gotten athletic scholarships to the state university.  For
financial reasons, Alice was going to stay at home and start at
junior college.  Gigi had earned a scholarship to a private school. 
Strangely, although we had never talked about it, Natasha and I
announced we would be going out of state to the same school.

     When I mentioned all these things to my Mom, she said that
maybe Natasha and I ought to room together.  In that way, she said,
"we'd each have a close friend."  The significance of that
statement passed me by for a few minutes, but then I caught on.

     "Mom," I began, "fun is fun, but college is for education."

     Mom laughed, and replied, "Yes, it is, isn't it?"  And then,
after a bit, she added, "I'll have to call Dorothy (Natasha's
mother) and set a lunch date."

     I didn't think anything about it for several days.  Then one
day, when I got home from school, my mother came into my room with
a box.  She laid it on my bed, as I was changing into levis and
wellington boots, and took from it a white, canvas thing. 
Recognition was a little slow but eventually I decided it was a
straight jacket.

     "For me?" I asked.

     Mom nodded, holding it up so that the sleeves hung down.  I
accepted the invitation and unhesitatingly thrust my hands and arms
into the extra long sleeves which were closed at the end.  She
pulled it up over my shoulders and then stepped behind me where she
began to draw the straps closed.  Very quickly, I was fully
encased.  Mom then told me to cross my arms in front.  When I had
done so, she took the strap hanging down from the left and pulled
it behind my back and into the clasp on the end of the right
sleeve.  I was now fully covered and secured.  But Mom wasn't done:
the tongue hanging down in front had a strap at the end.  She took
it and pulled it up between my legs and secured it to the jacket in
the back.

     I shifted my body from side to side and twisted my arms. 
Smilingly, I said to mother, "Well, I'm in and I can't get out. 
Now what?"

     I thought she might secure me to a chair to watch TV or some
such.  Her answer astounded me: "We're going visiting."

     "In broad daylight?" I asked incredulously.

     When she nodded, I added, "Like this?"

     She chuckled, "Why not?  You're fully covered.   C'mon.  We're
going to Natasha's house.  Her mother, Dorothy, and I were talking
about you two going to school and we have some ideas to suggest to
you."

     Dubiously, I followed her out of the house and into our car. 
Naturally, mom held the door for me and, after securing my seat
belt, she closed my door.  In a moment, she had herself belted, the
door closed and we moved off.  Natasha's house was only a couple
blocks and usually we walked but I was thankful we drove this time
-- though as we rode along, I noticed not one person on the
sidewalk between my house and Natasha's.

     When we arrived, I was in a quandary.  While Natasha had seen
me bound, I had no idea how her mother might react.  Also,
appearing in a public area, in broad daylight, bound; well, that
bothered me.  Mother noticed how agitated I was, how much I was
struggling in the straight jacket; and she merely smiled and then
said, "Relax.  You'll be amongst friends."

     That told me a lot.  Still, I struggled, walked sideways,
glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking (no one
was).

     When we entered the house, Dorothy (Natasha's mother) greeted
my mom with a kiss on the lips and then said, "Tina, what a lovely
jacket.  I'll bet you're comfy.  But it took courage to come out in
that in broad daylight.  Come in, both of you, and sit down. 
Natasha is waiting."

     Boy, Natasha surely was waiting.  She was naked, kneeling on
the floor in front of the coffee table, bent over at the waist,
with her wrists tied to the far end.  Her ass was very prominent. 
She looked up at me with a big smile, and said, "Hi Tina.  Hello
Mrs. Crimp (in case you missed it, my name is Tina Crimp and my
mother naturally is Mrs. Crimp -- first name Helen)."

     Bemused, I merely continued to walk into the room.  Dorothy
spoke, "Helen, why don't you sit here at the end of the couch, and
Tina, you can sit on this stool which might be a bit more
comfortable.  Besides, that way you each get a good view of
Natasha's ass."

     Why would I want to get a good view of Natasha's ass, I
wondered, as I settled on the stool.  Natasha was no longer looking
my way so I had no way of seeking an answer in her face.  My mother
and Dorothy were lighting cigarettes, so they were no help.  And
then I saw the paddle and other things on the floor, and I
understood: Natasha was going to be paddled!

     Wow!  Of course I knew it happened to her, but I'd never seen
it done.  The one time the others had seen her behind after a
paddling, I'd been tied down in my backyard.  I suddenly found
myself intensely interested.  I was going to see one of my best
friends paddled.  It wasn't that I wanted her to have pain; I guess
I realized she had her likes just as I had mine.

     I was jolted out of my mussings by my mother's voice, "My
goodness, Tina, you were certainly lost in thought."

     Smiling, I replied, "Yeah, I guess so.  I think I'm going to
like what I'm about to see."

     At this, Natasha raised her head and looked back at me, "Oh
you do, do you?  Well, I'm prepared to admit I like this.  How do
you like what you're wearing?"

     "Me?" I answered innocently, "why Natasha, you know I like to
be bound.  And you, you like to have your ass paddled?"

     "Ummmm," she replied, "and then some."

     Laughing, Dorothy interjected, "Before you two get too
excited, maybe I ought to do Natasha."  So saying, she stooped to
pick up the ping pong paddle.  Gripping it firmly, she bent at the
waist and applied a quick stroke to each cheek of Natasha's ass. 
The force of the blows was greater than I would have imagined for
starters  -- I thought one would work one's way up to it (I've
since learned differently).  Red splotches appeared on each cheek.

     "How're those for starters?" Dorothy asked her daughter.

     Without raising her head, Natasha answered, "Just right
Mother. Please continue."

     And so Dorothy began a rhythmic application of the paddle to
her daughter's ass.  At the end of twenty swats, each cheek had had
an equal number but they weren't alternated.  Then Dorothy bent
again, dropped the paddle and picked up a short, flexible whip. 
She resumed her previous position and began to swing the whip.  The
initial strokes caught Natasha on the ass, but soon Dorothy was
hitting her on the thighs and back.  I was mesmerized.  I'd never
dreamed it would be like this.  Oh, I'd read about whippings, but
to actually see the scalding of a friend's ass and back, well, that
was really something.  I enjoyed listening to Natasha grunt and ugh
as her body absorbed the force and the pain of each stroke.  I
imagined she probably felt the same way when she saw me tied (I
learned later that she did) because we each could relate the
other's predicament to sexual excitement (god, was I excited -- my
cunt was like a fountain and I knew my levis would show a wet mark
but I wasn't worried about that).  On impulse, I looked over at my
mother.  She was smoking and alternately staring intently at
Natasha's ass and Dorothy's face.  This jolted me -- my mother was
hot for Dorothy.  And then I caught my mother fingering her own
crotch.  Wow!

     Finally, dropping the whip, Dorothy said, "We'll let her rest
a bit if that's okay with you Tina."

     Brightly, I said, "Don't matter to me.  Whatever Natasha wants
is fine with me."

     Natasha raised a smiling face to me and said, "Now you know my
secret too.  Yeah, I'd like a rest, but I want more."

     Later, Dorothy gave Natasha ten strokes with a nice, whippy
cane.  Each stroke brought a squeal or an awrrgh from Natasha, but
she never asked her mother to stop.

     When the whipping (I learned that Natasha preferred to call
her episodes 'whippings' rather than 'paddlings') was finished and
Natasha released, my mother asked if I wanted out of my straight
jacket.  Actually, I had forgotten I had it on, and was inclined to
decline, but then Natasha said we would be having pizza for supper
so I agreed.

     While we waited for the pizza to be delivered, the four of us
smoked and talked about Natasha's and my college plans.

     Our senior year in high school passed quickly.  We six worried
we would drift apart, so we arranged to spend more time together. 
Naturally, I spent a lot of time tied.

     The six of us went to our Senior Prom together.  Biff and
George took a lot of ribbing, but they countered that they were men
enough for the four of us girls.  While Alice and Gigi were dressed
as any of the other girls at the prom, Natasha and I were
different.  She was well and truly whipped under her gown.  Her
mother had been careful to avoid marking her where her dress
wouldn't cover.  I was wearing a very strict corset, which caused
me some unanticipated problems: I was hungry because I hadn't been
able to each much and I was thirsty for the same reason.  The
discomfort was, naturally, a turn-on.  Mother had had a lot of fun
lacing me into the garment, and she had done so with gusto.  Even
if I had been inclined to cheat and not lace it closed, mother
wouldn't have let me get away with it.  I had held it to my belly
while mother tightened the laces.  When it wouldn't move at all, it
felt quite comfortable and I thought we might be done.  Then mother
had told me to grasp the top of the door frame and hold on; and
then she began to seriously tighten the lacings.  By holding my
arms over my head, I made my chest slimmer, which made it easier
for mom to make the corset tighter.  Once, I had to tell her I was
feeling faint.  She stopped her tightening and supported me for a
few moments.  She even had smelling salts, which instantly cleared
the fuzziness.  At another point, I complained that I didn't think
I could handle any more constriction, but she just continued to
pull and tug.  She was actually panting, she was working so hard. 
And finally, she stopped.  I felt like I was rigid from my hips to
my neck.  My boobies were swelled up over the top of the corset,
and I was quite proud of them.  And then, on a whim, mother
measured my waist: it was six inches less than normal, and that was
over the top of the corset, so I was probably at least seven inches
smaller.  When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was amazed: I
truly did look like an hour glass.  Since my gown was a clinging
fabric, my body drew lots of attention that nite.  Also, since the
dress was floor length, I was able to wear my knee high, high
heeled boots.

     The prom was a huge success.  The six of us drew lots of
attention.  Naturally, my body was an attraction, but the other
girls were dressed spectacularly so none of us stood out any more
than any other.

     Traditionally, proms began at school, where a meal was served
and then on a country club for the dance.  After that, everybody
adjourned to a mountain resort where everybody changed for a hike
to scenic view to see the sunrise.  We stayed with the class until
we got to the resort, and then we went to our own cabin, the six of
us; and when we left, none of us were virgins.  We missed the
sunrise, but we were pleased that even if in the future we saw less
of one another, we had shared a rite of passage together.  I'm not
ready to tell about that nite yet; maybe at a later time.

     That Fall, Natasha and I went off to school.  We decided we
wanted to start out in the dorm, so we had a two room suite.  The
first couple weeks, we were caught up in learning our new life and
did nothing that any of the others weren't doing.  We hit the beer
hall a few times, and made lots of friends.  And then we got into
going to classes, and all at once, discovered we had lots of
homework.  Resolving to quit playing and to begin work, we stayed
in our rooms and studied for three straight nites.

     Finally, about ten on the third nite, Natasha threw down her
pencil and said, "Shit."

     Looking up, I replied, "What did you say?"

     "I said 'shit'," she repeated.  "I need a break.  This is just
too intense."

     Taking a chance, I replied, "What you mean is that you need
your ass paddled."
     She said nothing for a moment, then, after lighting a
cigarette, she said, "You ready to do me?"

     I nodded, so Natasha stood and walked to her dresser.  She
opened the second drawer and, after moving some clothes, she pulled
out the paddle and the whip her mother had used that day nearly a
year ago as I sat watching in my straight jacket.  She threw them
on the bed and then, after locking the door, she stripped and knelt
at the side of her bed with her upper body laying across it.  This
had taken no time at all.  The rapidity with which Natasha moved
startled me, but I knew I was going to do it.  On a whim, I too
stripped.  Then, stepping to where she was lying, I picked up the
paddle.  I hefted it and moved it around.  Then, without warning
her, I hit the left cheek of her ass as hard as I could.  The
'crack' sound was like a cannon shot and, almost involuntarily, I
said, "god."

     Natasha giggled, and looked up at me.  She was surprised to
see my bare tits and her eyes bulged, but then she said, "Like your
dress."

     "Now what?" I asked.

     "What do you mean?"

     "Well," I replied, "we can't make that much noise."

     "Oh," Natasha said, "well, just use the whip then."

     So I did.  I hit her at least thirty times with that whip. 
And when I was done, her back and ass and thighs were criss-crossed
with the thin red lines.

     I didn't know if I should go on, but Natasha got up,
signalling the end, and then she embraced me and kissed me on the
mouth.  I ate her pussy that nite.


End of Part 3

Tina


Part 4

While our bondage and whipping sessions were intense, there was no
way we could be successful in school, nor have social lives if I
was tied all the time, or if Natasha's ass was constantly
blistered.  Hence, we sort of settled on fortnight to bi-weekly
sessions.  There was no tit for tat either: I might paddle Natasha
a couple times in a row and then be tied two or even three times
before I did her again.  I'm not counting me just sitting around in
handcuffs and leg irons, or me giving Natasha "six of the best" on
her bare cheeks.

I should like to tell you a little about my favorite bondage
costumes: discipline helmet, corset, plugs, boots and nipple
clamps.

                           ...........

You may remember that I originally didn't like the term "discipline
helmet."  Eventually, though, I came to accept the name and now
feel no reason to object to the name.  While I get a certain kick
out of having someone put my helmet on me, I get far greater
pleasure doing it to myself.

I have two helmets.  One is very plain.  No eye or mouth holes and
a zipper closing in back.  I don't like "plain jane" as much as I
like my "mad max" leather, head sack.  Actually, when you think
about it, that's exactly what it is, a leather, head sack.  Laying
by itself (without my head in it), on a bed or something, it really
is shapeless, except for the many straps which give it a sort of
form.

"Mad max" is a full head cover that extends down my neck to the
start of my shoulders.  It has rather large eye openings, but they
can be completely covered over with padded blinders that secure
with velcro at several points and with locking buckles at either
temple.  At my ears are perforated areas so that stereo headphones
may be clamped over my head.  These headphones have the alternative
function of making me very hard of hearing.  It's not possible to
shut off all sound so the headphones have a way of transmitting
silent sound which overwhelms most other sound.  Don't ask me the
technicalities, I just find it great.  The mouth area is unique in
discipline helmets.  I do not like ball gags, so this helmet will
help keep a very large ball in my mouth.  Why would I want a ball
gag if I don't like ball gags?  Simple, this IS a discipline helmet
and there has to be something that I don't like, sort of.  Anyway,
the ball I use has the center bored out so I can breathe through
it.  I can't get the ball completely in my mouth and it could
possibly be forced out, so the helmet will accept a pouch in the
front which (a) makes it obvious I'm wearing a ball gag; and (b)
keeps the damn thing in my mouth.  There is also a flat front when
no gag is needed and yet a third which will keep an inflatable
bladder in my mouth.  I should also tell you that the breathing
hole in the ball gag can hold a small rubber hose for forced
feeding of liquids into me -- I don't use that very often.

The whole inside of the helmet is lined with very soft, neoprene
rubber.  I like the smell of leather, and would have preferred a
leather lining, but the neoprene rubber makes for a snugger fit. 
It gets a little sweaty, but I like it.

The closure is done by lacing, with each lacing through holes, not
hooks.  It takes longer to get on and off, but it fits just super;
and, since this is for my pleasure, why use half measures.  The
laces go down the neck.  Permanently fixed to the helmet is a
bondage collar.  It is very rigid, but not overly high, so I have
certain head movement, but not much.  It is secured by a very large
padlock (did I mention that all the mouth closures and the
headphones are also secured with locks?).  When the collar is
locked, the laces might be cut and the helmet loosened a little but
no way could it be removed.

But that's not all.  The leather is soft, so it has a limited
amount of stretch to it.  Any movement around a gag is unwanted so
I have a strap that passes under my nose that joins another strap,
just at my the top of my cheek bones, that goes under my jaw and
locks at the top of my head.  When this is tightened, my jaw is
FIXED!

Putting on my helmet is always a time of high drama for me.  As I
said, it is sometimes put on me by others, but I enjoy it far more
when I do it to myself.  Naturally, the first thing I do is insert
(or try to) the ball gag.  I open my mouth as wide as I can, and I
push the ball in as far as I can.  I frequently get a kink in my
jaws at this point, but I massage them and work the ball until my
jaws adjust.  I glance at myself in the mirror and marvel at my
face, and I try all the more to get the ball in further, always
being careful to keep the center channel in the middle.  When I'm
satisfied that I can make no more impact on the ball gag, I gather
my hair, wishing it were shorter, and wondering why it isn't. 
Still, there is a certain distinction having the last inch or so of
my hair peeking out below the locked collar.  That done, I lift the
sack and spread it out as much as possible (I never loosen the
laces very much when I take it off as I really don't LIKE the
tightening to be too long) and pull it down over my head.  Well,
that's not really correct; actually, I hook the bottom of the
lacing at the back of my head and then pull forward and down on the
front to pull it down over the front of my face.  Then, I pull down
the rear.  When I'm satisfied it's pulled down, I twist it back and
forth until the eye holes are positioned properly.  Then I make
sure the ball hole is in the proper place.

Now I begin the tedious task of tightening the laces.  At it's
tightest, the laces will bring the two edges within a half inch of
meeting.  There is, of course, an overlap so that no part of my
head is not covered with the leather/rubber helmet.  I've become
quite adept at this lacing and can bring it together within a
quarter hour.  The next item is the gag covering.  Since I haven't
used anything but the ball, the simple pouch is sufficient today. 
Carefully, I match the velcro patches.  When I'm satisfied with the
fit, then I put the tabs into the buckles and secure them.  It's a
real turn-on to snap the tiny locks into place because it adds a
sense of outside control.  [A word about the locks and keys: while
I can secure the keys out of reach so that I have to wear the
helmet for whatever specified time, I don't always, choosing
instead to simply revel in the pleasure of wearing the helmet while
knowing I can remove it anytime I want.]

Once the mouth is secured, I put the chin strap on to secure my
mouth to the Nth degree.  I really like this part.  The lock on the
top of my head for this strap is larger than the two on my mouth
cover.  [By now, my jaws have begun to ache.  The first time that
happened, I panicked and quickly removed the helmet and ball.  Now
I've found that I can handle the ache because it settles quickly.] 
Next, I secure the headphones and lock them.

The next to last thing I secure is the bondage collar.  Sometimes
I fasten this tightly and others not so tight.  The heavy padlock
is very noticeable.  I secure it tight this time.  My head movement
is now limited.  Of course, the helmet itself limits my head
movement, but the collar cuts back on my up and down movement. 
Immediately I look at myself in the mirror.  Next to wearing the
helmet, I like looking at myself wearing it.  Of course, I can't
see what I look like when I have the blinders on but I do have
pictures.  At this point, I do the final thing which is to fix the
blinders over my eyes and, with a sure sense of touch, secure the
padlocks.  It should be noted that I now have eight different
padlocks securing my helmet to me: two at my blinders, two at my
mouth covering, two at the headphones, one at the top securing the
chin strap and the final one on the bondage collar.  Maybe you get
the idea I like padlocks!

At this point, I can just sit or lay down to enjoy myself, or I can
add other bondages.  I can smoke and I can use my vibrator.

That's how much I like my discipline helmet.

                           ...........

I have three corsets.  Although not satisfactorily, I can put
myself into two of them; for the third, I need help.

The simplest is a waist cincher.  At it's widest point, it is only
six inches.  This is the easiest for me to fasten and I can get it
rather tight.

The other one I can put on by myself is more formidable.  It covers
me from just below my boobies to just above my cunt in front and
just to the beginnings of my ass crack in back.  With this, I can
draw my waist in by at least four inches.  With mother's or
Natasha's help, I get reduced five inches and sometimes six (one
time it was seven inches but I needed lots of smelling salts for
that.

Besides making my middle look a little like the middle of an hour-
glass, my corset holds me rigidly upright.  It's not quite as
strong as being tied to a post, but it obviously is more mobile.

Learning how to draw the shallow breaths took some doing.  Now I'm
comfortable that way and rarely forget (if I forget and try to draw
a deep breath, I sometimes have a hard task to exhale it).

I can and I do wear both these corsets under regular clothes,
though I'm usually limited to dresses or skirts as my smaller waist
won't hold up my pants unless I use suspenders.

The third corset was a present from my father from his last trip to
Europe.  Mom got one just like it.  While the first two are boned,
in the fullest sense of the word, they are boned with the
traditional whale bones.  This one is boned with steel!  You might
think that would make it heavy.  You would be right.  It weighs
twenty pounds. Indeed, when putting this on, we use small, bra-like
straps to hang it on my shoulders until it's been closed enough to
be molded to my body.  The inside is lined with a thin sheet of
rubber over leather.  The outside is patent leather, which is far
less pliable than kid.  In other words, it's a fetishist's dream.

While wearing the patent leather corset, I rarely have any covering
over it.  One time, I did go out wearing Natasha's mu-mu.  In any
event, when I'm in it, I'm really in it.

                           ...........

By plugs, I'm referring to cunt and ass-hole plugs.  I was very
much intrigued by these when I saw one in a catalog.  The first
time I wore that belt, with both plugs permanently fixed to the
crotch strap, I KNEW that wouldn't work.

My current belt has both plugs on sliders so that the crotch strap
can move with me.  The sliders are not so loose that the crotch
strap moves easily; it doesn't.  What it does do is create just a
little resistance so that the plugs are constantly just a little
behind my body, which makes me verrry aware of them.

I also tried some huge plugs but I found that smaller is better, at
least for plugs when you're on the go.  [Note that I don't usually
go for the enema routine.  When I have, the plug does have to be
larger, but then it usually isn't in very long and I sure don't go
for long walks.]

Yes, I do wear this outside the house.  I wear it to class.  I wear
it to movies.  I wear it for walking.  I even wore it on a date. 
Natasha got a kick out of that.

Yes, I'm constantly turned on when I am "plugged."  I will also say
that the plug belt is the one bondage item that Natasha's tries,
only she doesn't agree it's a bondage item.  Maybe she's right.

                           ...........

I have several pair of boots.  I do not have a pair of thigh highs. 
I tried them once and found they just were more trouble than their
worth.  My knee highs are high heeled, one with a reasonable
walking heel of four and a half inches; the other is extremely hard
to walk in with the seven inch heels -- in these, I literally walk
on the ends of my toes.

                           ...........

Nipple clamps are great!  Of course, I started out with clothes
pins, and initially concluded it would be impossible to endure
them.  As time wore on, and I began to understand desirable pain,
I came to grips with clothes pins.  Then too, I discovered there
were many types of clothes pins, and some of them are fierce! 
Having mastered the clothes pins, I began to branch out.  The first
ones were pinchers with set screws to adjust them.  After I managed
them, I went in for a whole host of them. 

My favorites still are the japanese butterfly clamps.  These exert
an exquisite pain for a while; after a while, however, the nipple
gets toughened and the pain almost totally disappears.  I have
other clamps that I can fasten over the butterfly clamps to make
the experience more telling, and that can be fiery painful.

My two most recent clamps are clothes pins with wood screws and a
real fierce pair with saw teeth.  The clothes pins with wood screws
I made myself.  A hole was drilled in both sides of each clamp. 
Into these holes, I screwed #4 wood screws.  I ran them in and out
several times to loosen the wood.  I put the clothes pins on my
nipples and then, using a small screwdriver, alternately tighten
each screw one quarter turn.  For a while, there is little
sensation, but then it gets going.  The screws haven't penetrated
my nipples yet, and I doubt they will as the  points are not
especially sharp and the springs on the clothes pins are not strong
enough.  The pain is exquisite.

The other pair is very new.  I'm still trying to buy into their
pain.  It really is a challenge.


End of Part 4

Tina


Part 5

I've become a computer hacker and I've joined bbs's to get stories,
see pictures and make contacts.  Some of the stories are just
terrible--no style and just crud.  Some others are pretty good.  A
few are terrific.

I was reading one the other nite entitled "A Brown Gagged Girl." 
The bondage seemed excessive, and much too long.  Besides, it was
forced, and I don't like that as much as voluntary.  But I was
intrigued about the gag.  Of course it referred to being gagged
with shit.  I had drunk my own urine on a few occasions and I've
had guys piss in my mouth.  Naturally, this had led me to think
about shit.  Once, I had stuck my finger up my ass and then licked
it.  The smell was terrible but the taste wasn't too bad.  This put
me off, but I never really gave up on it.

As I read the story of the girl with the brown gag, it occurred to
me getting past the odor was a big part of the battle.  Thus, the
most important task was to get the shit in my mouth.  But then,
just having it there wouldn't do much, or would it?

Determined to try, I went to the drug store and bought a package of
condoms.  It's a mark of the times, I guess, that a girl can go to
the drug store and buy condoms herself.  I also bought some cheese
clothe, rubber gloves, a bed pan, a very thin rubber hose, swimmers
goggles, ear plugs and a compound that is designed to make the
stool firmer (read that to mean to make my turds more solid,
usually my shit is pretty runny).  I also bought some all bran
cereal at the grocery.

For three days, I ate that all bran and the compound.  The first
morning, I notice my shit wasn't so runny, that there was a
tendency to solidify.  The second morning, my shit was definitely
more consistent.  And the third morning, my turd was a rope.  I was
ready.  That day I really loaded up on the all bran and the
compound.  I wasn't sure how this would work, but I was determined
to try.

The next day, a Friday, I had no classes and Natasha was in labs
all day.  I knew she didn't even come home for lunch.  I got up and
had some coffee, and ate some more all bran and the compound.  I
had a cigarette and then set everything out that I had bought. 
When I felt the urge to shit, I peed but held the shit.  Then,
naked, I took the rubber hose and inserted into my piss hole.  I
thought I could insert my own catheter and drain off my piss so
there'd be no mixing with the shit in the bed pan.

It took some doing but I finally forced that hose into my bladder. 
The remaining urine flowed freely--I had to grab a flower vase to
run it into.  When the piss stopped flowing, I then sat on the bed
pan and let loose.  I felt, with great satisfaction, the long, rope
like turd coming out of my ass-hole.  When I had totally evacuated,
I pulled on the rubber gloves and tried the first test: I used a
finger to wipe my ass.  One good thing about the all bran and the
compound was that there usually was little to wipe, and this time
was no different.  I withdrew my rubber covered finger and starred
at it.  No doubt about it, the odor of shit was there, but it
didn't seem as strong.  I wasn't sure what to make of this, and
finally decided it was just my excitement.

Next, I took one of the condoms and began to feed the turd into it. 
This took a little doing as the turd was not as stiff as a prick
would have been.  In the end, I simply pushed the shit into the
condom as best I could.  I then tied a knot in the end and then I
washed the shit-filled condom.  I removed the rubber gloves and
then I put the condom in my mouth.  I'd had condoms in my mouth
before and this tasted about the same--a flavor of latex.  I knew
that my mouth was filled with shit, even if it was in a rubber
sack.  I put some tape over my mouth to secure the condom and then
I just sat.

I wasn't sure what to think.  I'd done what I wanted, but the
sensation was sort of nothing.  I knew what I had to do, but I
wondered if, when it came time to do it, if I could.  Putting a
shit filled condom in my mouth was one thing.  They were supposed
to keep whatever was inside them inside.  True, their usual
function was to keep gism in them, but other things too.  I know we
often used them as water balloons.

Well, I had to try.  I pulled off the tape and removed the condom. 
I then lighted a cigarette and pulled the rubber gloves back on. 
Then I laid out the cheese clothe.  I reasoned I would use four
layers.  When I had the four ten inch square pieces together, I
held them up to the light, and decided to add one more layer.  I
felt it would be better if there was a very slow moistening than a
too-quick one.

Then I reached into the bed pan and broke off a piece of turd about
the size of a golf ball, and put it on the cheese clothe.  Then, I
pulled up the four corners of the cheese clothe pieces.  Holding
them with the fingers of my left hand, I began to wrap string
around them, as close to the shit ball as I could.  When I'd made
two wraps, I released the bag with my left hand and used it to help
tighten the string.  At last, I had a fairly credible ball in the
clothe.  I held it, considered it, and then swiftly put it in my
mouth.  Continuing my swift movements (I wanted to get this part
done before I chickened out), I put several layers of tape over my
mouth.  All this time, my tongue had avoided the intruding bit, and
my saliva had slowed.

Still not sure of myself, I put leg irons on my ankles and
handcuffs on my wrists behind my back.  I had left my keys in the
other room, so it would take a few minutes to get there.  One way
or another, I had forced myself to accept a shit ball, and it would
take a few minutes to get out.
Tentatively, I forced my tongue to explore the cheese clothe sack. 
I distinctly noticed a taste of shit, but it wasn't too strong. 
And then it hit me: I hadn't noticed the odor at all.  I suppose
this could be partly explained by becoming somewhat used to the
odor of the open bedpan, but I wondered.

My saliva had started to flow.  I worried the bag around my mouth
with my tongue.  I could tell the bag was getting wet from my
saliva, and I knew the moment of truth would be coming soon.  What
would I do?  It would take me at least five minutes to get to the
keys, unlock my handcuffs and peel off the tape to spit out the bag
of shit.  If I wanted to call this off before this got out of hand,
I'd better start moving to the other room now.

I didn't move.

The first acrid taste became apparent.  It was sudden.  It wasn't
there, and then it was.  I was alarmed.  What was I to do?  I began
to shuffle to the other room.  And then I stopped.  I told myself
I had wanted to do this.  Now, I owed it to myself to at least give
it an honest try.

I was now swallowing my shitty saliva.  Was this healthy?  Of
course not.  Was it dangerous?  I was reasonably certain I had no
diseases of the lower tract and that any parasites living in me
were mine.  Hence, the danger was minimal.  (Sucking on someone
else's shit balls might be another story.)

My tongue was now rolling the ball around my mouth freely.  It was
like sucking on a jaw breaker.  Inwardly, I smiled at that
allusion.  Then I became bolder.  I  had gotten this far with
getting sick.  It was time to experiment.  I squeezed the ball
against the roof of my mouth.  This compressed the shit ball, and
forced out more saliva with a heavier volume of shit.  

I could deal with it!

I wondered where this might lead me.

Now I began to roll the ball around and press it against my cheeks. 
And the ball had become noticeably smaller.  There was no choice
for me.  I shuffled to the other room and unlocked my handcuffs,
but I left the leg irons on my ankles.  Back in the other room, I
began to prepare a bigger shit ball.

When I'd finished with the larger ball, I removed the tape from my
mouth, fished out the now totally used cheese clothe sack of shit,
and inserted the new and larger ball of shit.  I did not use tape
this time and I handcuffed my hands in front of me.

I did wait until the bag was wetted, and then I began to press on
it.  The shitty flavor was stronger this time, but I was hooked. 
It took me a half hour to drain that bag.

When I removed it, I looked in the bed pan.  There was only a
little of the nice long rope I had deposited there a while ago.  I
reached for it and put it in my mouth, and I began to chew it.

I had an orgasm!

After I took a shower and brushed my teeth, I returned and cleaned
up the mess.  I knew I had to think about what I had done.  I
slipped into a sweater, levis, socks and my work boots, and went
out for a walk.  There was no question that I had entered an
entirely new area.  Bondage, even discipline, while not everyday
things, and not for everybody, was at least seen by most as not
harmful.  There were a few extremists who felt anything pleasurable
was wrong, and a few others who would say female bondage was
degrading.  Eating shit, I was sure, would be on almost everyone's
list of disgusting things.  Should I care?  In truth I cared only
about Natasha's reaction, and of course I was wise enough that no
one must find out about it.  

Having settled it in my mind, I stopped and had a hamburger, and
laughed inwardly about my "appetizer."  It suddenly dawned on me I
hadn't eaten that day, not even my all bran.  Most importantly, my
stomach wasn't upset in any way.  Clearly, I would do this again. 
And then I headed home.

Good thing that I did.  The apartment smelled like shit.  Not
surprising, even though I had cleaned it up.  So I sprayed some
lysol around and got a fan going.

I was on a high, so I decided on a little more serious bondage.  I
stripped out of my clothes and pulled off the work boots.  I put on
a pair of shoe booties that we use just for bondage: they require
I stand on my toes for the heels are ten inches.  I can stand in
them, even take small, mincing steps, but after a while my foot
will cramp slightly from the extreme arch.  When I reckoned Natasha
would be home in a half hour, I put leather cuffs on my wrists and
ankles.  I used a ball gag.  Then I locked my ankles together with
one lock and also fixed a foot long piece of chain to that lock,
and laid on the floor.  Then I put my hands behind my back and used
another lock to hold the cuffs together.  A final padlock secured
the length of chain from my ankles to my wrist cuffs.  I was in a
hog-tie.

Apparently, Natasha stopped off on the way home.  She was later
than I expected, but I wasn't worried.  It just extended my ordeal. 
The very thing that makes a hog-tie difficult was what attracted
me: the growing urgency to stretch out my legs; and that un-
requited urgency leads to frustration, and my sexual tension.  The
hog-tie is the most difficult, but it is very satisfying for my
bondage purposes.

At last I heard Natasha's key in the lock.  The door opened, she
stopped, and then said, "Oh, ho, what have we here?"

I gurgled a bit behind my ball gag (I can make sounds, a few of
which are intelligible but I don't always try; the only really
silent gag is very elaborate and not totally effective).

Natasha dropped something on the table (probably her books) and
came over to squat near my face.  She was wearing a blouse with a
sweater draped over her shoulders, a full skirt, stockings (neither
of us wore panty hose, ever), mid-heels and no panties.  I knew
that because I could look right into her cunt.  She had been in
class all day with no panties on under her skirt.  Not remarkable
since I frequently do the same.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

I managed to gurgle 'about hour.'

"Want to stay a while longer?"

Gurgle: 'up to you.'

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower.  Don't go away."  With that, she
swatted me on my ass.

Now as you know, I'm into bondage and Natasha is into spanking and
whipping.  She does some bondage, especially for a heavy duty
whipping, but the physical is more her thing.  I, on the other
hand, am not into the physical.  Oh, I've had Natasha spank me and
even whip me but nothing like I've done to her.  Anyhow, that
single swat had a curious effect on me: I wanted another!  I
gurgled at Natasha, but she must have thought I was making my usual
protest, and didn't come back.  So I laid there, fighting the need
to straighten my legs.  I was also feeling some discomfort from the
shoes.  And my cunt got wetter.

A while later, a nude Natasha returned. 

"Phew," she said, "you're really turned on tonite.  I could smell
your cunt when I opened the bathroom door.  Ready to be freed?"

I gurgled.

"What?" she asked.

I gurgled again, and this time she came down to my face.  I tried
to say 'spank me'; but she didn't understand, so I tried again. 
This time she must have made something out about what I'd said, and
she said, "I think you said something about spank."

I gurgled twice in encouragement.

"Well, you surely can't spank me in that position, so is it that
you want me to spank you?"

I gurgled twice again.
"Well, well," she said, sitting back on her naked ass, with her
naked cunt inches from my face, "and to what do we owe this
request."

I said nothing.

"You do want me to spank you?  You're sure?  You're not just
requesting it because you think I might want to do it?"

I managed a 'for me' and smiled at her with my eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned.  Hand alone or can I use a paddle?"

This caused me to ponder: a hand spanking was one thing.  I knew,
from experience, that I'd feel it; but did I want more -- the
answer was a qualified yes.  I managed 'start hand' and then
smiled.

Natasha repeated, bless her, just she was certain what I was saying
through my gag: "You want me to start with my hand?  Does that mean
I might have to use something else?"

I gurgled.

"Okay, Tina, it's your ass."

The first thing she had to do was free me from my hog-tie, which
she did by unlocking the chain connecting my leg irons to my
handcuffs.

"I think I'll leave the rest on you," she said, pulling me to my
feet, "but I do want you to lie across my lap to begin."  While
saying that, she had turned me, sat on a chair and then had me bend
over her lap.  My legs had just enough movement to permit me to get
down on her lap with some dignity.

The spanking began immediately.  Natasha is very experienced, and
I felt the slaps from the start, but they weren't punishing.  She
maintained a steady cadence, giving me an even number of slaps on
each cheek over 10 slaps but not in order.  Sure, I could feel
them, but since I had felt them on few occasions in the past, I
also knew they wouldn't kill me, at least yet.  I said nothing, but
occasionally I would moan softly.

The first time I moaned, Natasha laughed, "Are you serious?  You
and I both know that's not all that bad."

I received 50 spanks before she stopped for a breath.  My bottom
had heated up nicely, and I was feeling a stinging sensation, but
I was a long way from crying uncle.  Gently, Natasha pushed me off
her lap and helped me to the floor with dumping me.  She then
unlocked my cuffs at ankles and wrists, and lighted a cigarette for
herself.  It was up to me to remove my gag if I wanted to smoke
too.  I did and so I removed it.
I remained standing, puffing.  At last Natasha broke the silence. 
"Okay, what's up?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, why did you want me to spank you?"

"Did?"

That stopped her a moment, and then she added, "You still want
more?"

I grinned and nodded.

"So why do want a spanking....and whatever else I decide to give
you?"

"I'm just in the mood," I said.

Snorting, Natasha said, "Well, then Tina, what got you in the
mood?"

"I'm not sure.  I tried something new this morning.  Then I went
for a walk, and when I returned, I did the hog-tie.  Then you came
home.  Someplace along the way I sort of came to the conclusion a
spanking would be nice."


End of Part 5

Tina


Part 6

There was silence for a while as each woman was lost in her own
thoughts.  The naked Tina continued to stand, while she smoked and
thought.

It was Natasha who broke the silence: "Well, did you have enough or
did you want more?"

Tina grinned and replied, "Oh, I want more.  At least the paddle,
and maybe a cain."

Natasha whistled.  "You've never had the cain.  Sure you can handle
it?"

"Dunno," was the reply, "but if you tie me and gag me, I'll sure as
hell try."

So it was that Tina was placed on the whipping bench where Natasha
had spent so much time.  The bench was a nicely finished plank of
wood about eighteen inches long on four very sturdy legs about ten
inches high.  At one end, there was a scooped-out, pillory-like
place where Tina rested her neck and then a leather strap across
the top secured her neck there.  A very wide leather belt went
around her waist, holding her fast to the board.  At each forward
leg was a ring.  Leather cuffs on her wrists were locked to these
rings.  Chains extended out from the rear legs to connect to the
cuffs on her ankles.

"I'm going to start with the paddle and the slapper.  Do you want
a gag now?"

"No, let me try it without.  By the way, this whipping block is
quite the bondage device.  I knew you liked to be tied."

She was interrupted by the first slap of the paddle on her right
ass cheek.  She gasped, but said nothing and did not cry out. 
Natasha then took up a regular rhythm, hitting her once every
fifteen seconds, almost like a metronome.  The blows were not
especially forceful, but they were cumulative.  After the
twentieth, Tina began to shift her ass back and forth, but Natasha
was able to compensate so that only one paddle swat missed the
absolute center of an ass cheek.

At the mark of thirty, Natasha announced there would be a break. 
She lighted a cigarette and bent down to hold it to Tina's lips. 
The grateful woman took a deep drag and let the smoke curl upward
after she had again lowered her head.

Natasha continued to smoke, and when she finished, she mashed out
the butt, took up the paddle and resumed Tina's desired ordeal.

The cadence resumed as before: every fifteen seconds, the paddle
would make contact with one or the other of Tina's ass cheeks.  The
thwack was identical.  Natasha wasn't trying to punish Tina's ass,
merely warm it and color it.  From time to time, Tina would emit an
"ooof" or an "ouch," but nothing serious, and Natasha ignored her.

At the sixtieth, Natasha stopped again.  She lighted up and again
offered the butt to Tina.  Tina drew deeply and, smiling shyly, she
asked "How's my ass look?"

Natasha smiled, and then stood.  Gripping the cigarette in her
teeth, she leaned over Tina's ass.  Then, talking around the
cigarette, she said, "Well, it's quite red, and it is very warm. 
Want to quit?"

"Nope," came the prompt reply.

"More paddle or cain?"

A pause, and then "You're in charge.  I want to feel the cain, but
I like what you've been doing too.  How many swats have you given
me?"

"Two doses of thirty each."

"You mean I've had sixty?" Tina asked incredulously.

"You think you've had more?"

"No, no," Tina protested.  "I thought it was lots less.  Keep up
the paddling."

So Natasha began the paddling again.  Tina thought she detected
slightly more force this time, and she knew the cadence had been
increased.  Still, she managed to remain still as Natasha pounded
her ass over and over again with the paddle.

Finally, Natasha put the paddle down; but then, without much pause,
she picked up the slapper and began with the new implement.  This
permitted her to swing from further away.  This, naturally, put
more force into the blows, but it also slowed them.  Tina
appreciated the differences immediately.  She was also able to
glimpse Natasha's face as she swung the slapper, and she was
surprised to see the look of concentration.  Natasha caught her
looking up, and stopped.  

"You scared?" Natasha asked.

"A little.  I may need a gag soon."

"If you need a gag for the slapper, you'll never be able to stand
the cain."

There was short silence, and then Tina said, "Well, gag me now and
start with the cain.  I really do want to feel it."

So Natasha said, "It's your ass."  She walked away to the bathroom
where the girls kept their dirty laundry.  She rummaged in the bag,
pulling out as many pairs of dirty panties she could find.  She
then reached in her leather box and removed a muzzle gag -- nothing
went in the mouth from the gag but anything in the mouth would be
held there.

When Natasha returned, she squatted near her head and said to Tina,
"Open up."

Tina obediently opened her mouth wide, and Natasha began to cram
the dirty panties in Tina's mouth.  Tina had known what was coming;
she'd done the same to Natasha.  Somehow, considering what'd she
done that morning, she didn't think dirty panties would be so bad. 
When her mouth was full, Natasha put the muzzle on her roommate,
and strapped it tightly in place.

A considerable period of time elapsed between the gagging and the
next thing that happened, which Tina quickly interpreted as the
hummm of the cain an instant before it crashed into her red and hot
ass cheeks.

This was AWFUL.

She had NO idea it would be so fierce.  It nearly made her puke. 
Had she not been gagged, she might have yelled uncle; but all she
could do was breathe deeply and shake her head.

"I know that stroke took your breath away.  It's always like that. 
Even for me.  If you really want me to stop, clap your ankles
together, but I want you to know after that first one, the pain is
still fierce but you'll know you can handle it."

She waited.  Tina was tempted to clap her ankles, but instead, she
forced them even further apart.  She reasoned Natasha had the
experience here, so she'd try one more.

She GOT it.  And Natasha was right.  It was fierce.  It was white
hot, but it didn't kill her.  Deep within her chest, she groaned
through her gag, although the sound was heavily muffled.

Natasha gave her four more strokes.  Then she stopped and came
around to sit cross-legged in front of Tina.  She held the cain in
her hands.  

"So what did you think of six of my best?" Natasha asked.

Tina looked at her roommate.  There was pain, but there was also
triumph in her eyes.  She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and when
she opened them, she rolled her eyes completely around twice, and
then she winked.

"Want some more?"

Just a slight hesitation, and then Tina blinked twice.

Natasha gave Tina six more strokes with the cain, and then she
released her.

Tina stood and tried to rub her ass, but Natasha urged her not to
do so.

"Can you sit?" 

"Dunno, but let's try it," replied Tina, lowering herself gingerly
to the cushions of the couch.  She winced when her skin made
contact, but then she settled and finally leaned back.

"I wouldn't want to do that all the time," Tina said, "but I can
see what you mean."

"What do I mean?" Natasha asked with an amused smile on her face.

Shaking her head, Tina laughed, and then replied, "The cum at cain
stroke 9 was extra good."

Natasha laughed too, and then said, "Okay, now tell me why you
wanted this and why today?"

"I ate shit this morning."

For a moment, Natasha said nothing, and then she repeated, "You ate
shit this morning?"

Tina nodded, and then told Natasha the whole story.

For several long moments, Natasha sat quietly, and then she said,
"Was the spanking and caning then punishment?"

"Nope.  I was just super horny, and I needed something very
different.  What you think?"

"I understand."

Silence, and then Tina asked, "Well, aren't you going to say
anything else?"

"Why should I?  You tried something new.  You liked it.  That's it;
unless you're thinking of asking me to try it."

Tina shook her head.  "What we do is what we each want to do."

They sat that way for several minutes, and then Tina said,
"Natasha, sit on my face."

The semester wound down towards Finals, which would be the last
thing before the Christmas break.  From necessity, they both
wordlessly agreed to put their love life (for that's how each now
viewed it -- not lesbians, but certainly bi-sexuals) on hiatus. 
Tina did give Natasha one moderate spanking/paddling, and Natasha
did suspend Tina once, but the rest of the time they were pretty
quiet.

One evening, however, they took a break from their studying.  Their
casual, studying clothes were remarkably similar: levis and t-
shirts (sans bras, of course); only their footwear differed with
Tina in high boots with her pant legs tucked in and Natasha in her
preferred work boots.  Each had lighted a cigarette and held a wine
glass.

"So you're going skiing with Todd over the break?" asked Natasha. 
"Will you be going home at all?"

Tina nodded, "Oh sure, I won't leave until the 26th.  Mom and Dad
wouldn't forgive me.  Besides, I'd like to see if I can get Dad to
tie me to Mom."

"You going to demonstrate you're newest kink?"

Grinning, Tina replied, "I don't think so.  It's not something I
would feel comfortable recommending to them.  What about you?"

Natasha replied, "Oh, I'll be home for Christmas too.  Mother said
something about us going to Paris for New Years."

Tina whistled, "That would be something."

"I'm not too sure," Natasha replied.  "Unless Mother has some
others lined up, it may end up being just the two of us, and that
could be boring."

There was a silence of several seconds, and then Tina said
brightly, "Let's have our own Christmas Party.  My finals are over
early in the week, and I think I heard you say you were done on
Thursday morning.  We could party Thursday nite, and then go home
on Friday."

"What did you have in mind for a party?"

"Oh, we could have a little tree and presents, and then go out for
a nice, dress-up, sit-down dinner.  What do you say?"

Smiling, Natasha said, "I like it.  Let's do it."

Since Natasha was still studying, Tina took on the responsibility
of decorating after her finals were over.  She found a little tree
and put lights and hung ornaments on it.  And she went shopping. 
Natasha did her shopping on Thursday afternoon, after her last
final.

That evening, each dressed apart from the other.  They had agreed
it would be a dress up occasion, but neither knew what the other
would wear.  Considering their kinks, their independently selected
dress was remarkably conservative.  Tina was wearing a strapless,
black cocktail dress that forced her boobs up.  The dress came
halfway to her knees.  She had on black hose and 4 inch heels.  Her
final accessory was a pair of black kid gloves opera length. 
Natasha also wore black.  She wore a dress with a front but no
back, coming up to a high collar.  Her dress was in velvet and it
hung sensuously.  It too was short, and she had on the obligatory
high heels.  Her gloves were elbow length.

"You wearing anything else?" Tina asked.

Natasha shook her head, and replied, "You?"

Tina grinned, and then said, "Both pussies are bare.  Well, let's
go.  The cab is here."

Each grabbed her coat, purse and the gift they would give the
other, and they left.

Needless to say, the two women caused many heads to turn when they
entered the cozy restaurant.  The crowd was mostly local, and they
didn't often see the kids from the university so dressed up.  For
their part, the two women acted as conservatively as they were
dressed.  Their language was restrained, and they held their
cigarettes and martini glasses elegantly.  It was plain to any who
observed them that they were enjoying themselves, but there was no
double meaning, that is that while the two might be lovers, they
gave no hint.

Finally, over coffee and brandy, they decided to exchange their
gifts.  Tina's gift to Natasha was in a package about three inches
cubed while Natasha's gift to Tina was in a much larger box.

Natasha opened hers first to reveal a complete set of piercing
jewelry: rings for each nipple, four for her cunt lips, ten studs
for her ears and a ring for her nose.

Smiling brightly, Natasha said, "They're beautiful.  You know I
never would have thought of them myself, but now I do.  I just know
I'll enjoy having them put in me.  Now, open yours.  I hope you'll
like it."

The other diners had watched the unwrapping, but none could see the
gift Tina had given Natasha.  They had higher hopes of being able
to see the other's gift, but Tina was discreet.

Immediately after opening the box, she knew it would be rubber
since she noticed the tell-tale odor.  She wondered about the other
diners, and then inwardly shrugged, and proceeded.  When she had
the cover off, she could see a complete rubber body suit.  It
wouldn't be like a cat suit for it was a thicker rubber.  But it
was the helmet that drew her attention.  She resisted the impulse
to pull it out of the box, but she starred at it.  There were
glycine eyelets, a nose cover that could be clamped shut and an
open mouth hole.  Laying beside it, however, were several
attachments for the helmet that could be used to gag her, plug her,
and there was one that was a funnel.  She beamed at Natasha, and
the expression revealed her thanks and expectation.

While the other diners couldn't see what the two women had given
each other, they were able to detect the joy each had in her gift,
and they began to detect an underlying anticipation.  Clearly, each
woman wanted to enjoy her gift, and the other diners appreciated
this.

Nevertheless, with great patience, the two women enjoyed another
cigarette before they departed.

The next day, they were leaving so they did nothing more than sleep
with their faces in the other's cunt that nite.


End of Part 6

Review This Story || Email Author: Kilroy

MORE BDSM STORIES @ SEX STORIES POST