Leather and Suede







Now that some time has passed, and I – no, we have had a chance to process what happened that day, I’m still not sure how to feel about what happened. My feelings, my emotions are just so confused about everything… Perhaps… Perhaps if I take a moment, and go through exactly what happened, it might help me…

I’m thirty years old, and for reasons that have nothing to do with this – I hope – I still live with my mother who is in her late fifties. We’re similar in some ways, but in others we are as different as Boris and Keir – not just in politics, but in other areas. On that particular Saturday, I had spent the day working in a charity shop, and just wanted a quiet night at home. I was wearing an old black jumper with buttons at the side near the hem, old blue jeans and my favourite pair of black leather boots.

Seriously – knee length, tight, with a three inch stiletto heel and a thick sole, and a wonderful punched pattern up the side. Truly beautiful to look at and wear.

Where was I? Oh yeah – I had spent the day working at the charity shop, so I wanted a quiet night at home. And I knew what my mother’s plans for tonight were, so I knew I was going to be alone.

Remember I said we were like chalk and cheese – so picture me. Tall, not too thin, long blonde hair, quiet, home loving. And then there is my mother – smaller, red-brown eyed hair cut short, and a raver.

Yes, I said a raver – she loves going to the nightclubs with her friends, despite her advanced age. Okay, maybe not so advanced, but still… When I got back, she was sitting on the couch, pulling on the zip on her own boots.

But leather? Uh uh – not for my mother. She prefers suede – on this case, a pair of tight knee length ones in a shade of dusky pink, flat soled, and also with a three inch stiletto heel.

She was dressed completely differently from me as well – in a chocolate brown silk sleeveless dress that came half way down her thighs. Dark tights completed the outfit in her case. She looked up, smiled and asked if I had had a good day.

I had had a good day. But what I wanted was a mug of hot coffee, so I went to the kitchen while my mother stood in the hallway and put on her make up.

And that was when things started to take a very different turn. I got as far as putting the kettle on and then a latex gloved hand was pressed over my mouth as I was pulled backwards. I could smell a mixture of plastic and talcum powder – and it was overwhelming my senses almost as much as the fear that I was feeling. Whoever this was, they were strong, and had a large hand, that much was obvious.

And then I heard my mother make a muffled call, and I realised whoever this man was, he wasn’t alone. At least, I assumed it was a man – and that was confirmed when I was pulled back, and my head hit his broad chest – his broad, and muscular chest.

“Not a word – do exactly what I say, you don’t get hurt. Nod if you understand.”

Did I have a choice? Heck no – so I slowly nodded as the voice said “good – we’re going to have some fun tonight, but I need you to do something for me. When I take my hand away, slowly, without talking, but your hands behind your back.”

I didn’t feel as if I had a choice, so I nodded and breathed in as the gloved hand were taken away. I then moved my hands behind me, knowing that if he had silenced me, silenced my mother, he was going to make sure we could not raise the alarm – so I braced myself for whatever he was going to use to keep my wrists together.

So when I felt some sort of rope forcing my arms together, it was a shock – because it was not my wrists he was forcing together. It was my elbows – and as I glanced down, I saw my chest was been forced out as whatever he was using held my elbows next to each other.

My bloody elbows – and they were held tightly together with what felt through the wool like rope, bands of rope around and between my arms. It held them tightly together – and I then felt his gloved hands on my upper arms, before more rope was passed round and tied together my wrists.

He took the rope between my arms again as well, before he tied the ends off out of reach of my fingers – and then he pushed me out of the kitchen, and I saw mother. She also had her hands behind her back, and the man with her was wrapping rope around her upper body, pulling her arms against her side as the material of her dress was stretched over her own chest. As for the man – big, broad chested, dressed in black, wearing a balaclava mask and white latex gloves. He looked at me and smiled as I twisted round – and then I saw the white gloves of my own captor as he reached round, and gently stroked them over my breasts.

It was the most peculiar feeling – I mean, it’s not the first time I had been touched there, but between the wool, the latex, the situation, it felt so different. I must have squirmed slightly, because my mother told him to stop – and then the man with her whispered something into her ear, and she visibly paled before she nodded.

Something else was happening to me as well – I glanced down to see white rope was going around my body, pulling my arms against my back and my sides as it was pulled tight. It also stretched my jumper even more over my chest…

My chest…

One of the strange things about this situation was looking at me in a different light. I never felt I had a large chest, but seeing the way it was forced out now, the wool stretched over it, I saw how much larger they appeared. I wondered how it would look with a bikini top – but then I felt the pressure of the ropes above and below my breasts as the rope was pulled tighter – not unpleasant, just different, pleasurable almost…

I looked at mother, who also had bands of rope framing her chest, as her captor took the rope over one shoulder, then around the lower band between her breasts and back up. As he did this, his latex gloved hands stroked over her chest as well – and I could see the confusion in her eyes as he did this, as well as hear the soft moan escaping from her lips. Was she as confused as I was?

That was when my personal binder pulled the ropes tight one last time, and I felt them coming together behind me. Then I saw it come over one shoulder, as he walked round – and I saw him. Taller than the other man, thinner, but also wearing the ski mask or balaclava or whatever it was, with blue eyes and thin lips.

He then fed the rope under the band below my breasts, and as he did so his hands stroked over my chest – and I moaned. I had no idea why, but I could feel the touch through the tightly stretched wool, as if my chest was bare – and it felt so different, littler electric shocks running through me as I bit my lower lip, watching him as he fed the rope round the lower band and pulled it up. It was like another bra over my one – supporting my prominent breasts as he took it back over the other shoulder and walked behind me.

Mother moaned again as I was pushed into the front room, and she followed me there, the two of us walking slowly and standing there as the older man went to the windows, drawing the curtains over before the lights went off. He then went back outside, and brought in a large canvas bag form the hallway, opening it and taking out two more lengths of rope. He walked over and handed one to his ‘friend’, before they both walked behind us and we felt the rope around our waists as they tied it there – then let the end fall to the ground.

I was going to say something – but that got stopped, thanks to my captor squeezing my chest and me opening my mouth to scream. What I heard instead was my muffled voice, thanks to the cloth he pushed in, pressing down my tongue and filling the space behind my teeth. And when I say filling, I mean filling, as it did fill my mouth as it went in.

I could barely close my lips over it, as I watched his partner stuff a large sponge into my mother’s mouth, knowing how it would feel to her as well. As for me – my captor went to the bag and took out a roll of white tape, which he wound tightly round my head to keep the cloth in there. I could feel it pressing down on my cheeks, it was that tight, as I tried to breathe in and out through my nose – and then I saw my mother, the tape covering her mouth and the shape of her lips visible underneath as her binder silenced her.

But why do that to us then? I wondered that, and I could see the same question in my mother’s eyes as her binder walked behind her – and then I heard a zip being pulled down, as he pulled her dress down her and off, revealing her bra and panties before he reached round and started to massage her chest, kissing her neck as he did so.

I tried to scream at him, tell him to stop – and then I felt my captor pushing me down to my knees, and the rope round my ankles as he started to bind them together. I heard the squeak of leather rubbing on leather as they were forced next to each other, his hands taking the rope around and between my legs to secure them – and then another length as I felt my knees coming together as well, the pressure below my knees.

I was helpless, silenced, as my mother groaned under the pressure on her chest of his hands, and the feel of his kiss on her neck. She had her eyes closed – and then I felt the same feeling as my binder, my captor, started to massage my chest in the same way, his fingers kneading my flesh – and I could certainly feel it, despite the wool, the gloves…

He didn’t kiss me, but I could feel the way my breasts were firming up under his fingers – and I could feel the sensations starting to go through me as I moaned.

No – that was my mother moaning, as her binder made her kneel down in front if the couch, and started to bind her ankles tightly together, then her legs below her knees as mine had been. He then continued to massage her chest as he pressed his body against hers – and I turned my head away. It was obvious what he was going to do to her, and I feared what was going to happen to me.

But it was more than that – my body was starting to ache under the massage I was being given, and I was feeling damp between my legs as well. I didn’t want this it happen – to either of us – as I twisted round, and I heard my boots squeaking.

I wanted him to stop, to do something else – and then my wish was granted.

He did do something else.

He unfastened and pulled my jeans down to my knees, and then my panties, before I felt his gloved finger slowly move up between my legs, stroking me there, making me close my eyes and fight, fight the feelings, the desires that was making me feel…

Just think about that for a moment, please – this man, this masked intruder had tied me up, gagged and silenced me – and something told me he had not finished doing that yet – and was pawing me. No – pawing me makes it seem like I was a little puppy. He was groping me, squeezing my chest, and now he was stroking me between my legs, and oh my god did that feel good…

Oh god it felt so good, as I pushed my hips forward and felt him touch me in that most special of places…

I was so damp now, and I could not help wondering how it would feel to have him in there, pressing down on me…

I twisted round as I closed my eyes, feeling him enter his finger into me and slowly taking it out – and then he pulled the rope between my legs. Remember the rope he had tied round my waist and then left hanging? Well, now he had pulled it through and up as it sank between my lips, rubbing no me on those sweet spots, making me literally feel faint as he secured the rope to my waist.

I opened my eyes to see mother with the man behind her, and he was – well, that was when the rope between my legs was pulled on, and I fell over onto my side, unable to stop the way my legs were pulled back, my ankles secured to that new rope.

Then I heard the buzzing sound.

And I felt the vibrations on my chest as he ran the vibrato over it, making me squirm and move the rope between my legs as well. And that just drove me closer to the edge as he continued to do that, before he slipped it under the rope and into me so that to stayed there, no matter how much I moved round, or how often the shaking and screaming came with a fresh orgasm…

I could hear mother groaning and making loud muffled noises as well, so I knew her minder was taking her, but mine? He made no move to take me in that way, almost as if he knew and respected my own life choices.

I was dimly aware of them talking, and then walking out as I had another orgasm. It was some time before I was able to open my eyes and see my mother, lying on her side, hogtied as I was, sweating and shaking as the rope rubbed between her legs as well…

As I say, I still have trouble processing what happened, but one thing above all else. Why us? Why?








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