The sun was setting over the horizon as I looked out of the window over the green land.  Living in a converted farmhouse guaranteed me the privacy I needed, that allowed me to write the stories, articles and books I write, but there were time I craved company.


And as the night drew in, this was one of those nights – I was prepared, I was dressed for the occasion, as I turned and looked in the full length mirror.  The black outfit hugged every curve of my lithe body, the elasticated sides of my top moving with me while the leather front and back leather fitting like a literal second skin.  My arms were bare, my neck exposed, my greying red hair falling over the shoulders. 


The leather skirt was short, but my burgundy leather boots were long, almost crotch length, even with the top of the black stocking peeking over the top.  The style of the boot was from my youth – a thick square stacked heel, but a thin sole on the rest of the shoe.  Stylish and sophisticated – like me.


The sound behind me alerted me to the arrival of my visitor, but I continued to look out of the window until I felt the leather gloved hand press down over my mouth, silencing me save for a muffled whimper.


“Make no sound, do exactly what I tell you to do.  Nod if you understand.”


I slowly nodded as I heard his deep, resonant voice, and inhaled the scent of the leather before I slowly nodded.  He could do whatever he wanted, as he whispered into my ear “thank you – I am going to remove my hand, and I want you to go and draw the curtains, then turn and face me, hands on your head.”


I nodded again as the hand was removed, and I walked slowly over, looking out again but also noticing the blurred reflection, before I took hold of the burgundy red velvet curtains and slowly drew them across the glass.  I then turned, raising my hands and placing them palm down on my head, and looked at him.


He was about six foot tall, slim, but obviously well built.  He was dressed appropriately as well – the black tuxedo and smart trousers, the polished black shoes, the white shirt and black bow tie – and the balaclava that covered his head, allowing me only to see his deep blue eyes and his smile. 


He had placed a small bag on the coffee table that stood in front of my couch, and as he opened it with one hand I looked at the pistol her aimed at me with his other one.  I will not deny there was a thrill running through me, as he opened the bag and drew out a length of red cord.


“Walk over here – slowly – and stand with your back to me.”


I did as he asked, trying to control my breathing as I turned my back to him, and I heard him put something on the table – presumably the gun.  His gloved hand then took hold of my wrists and guided them behind my back, as I felt him cross them.


“Don’t move.”


“I won’t” I whispered as I felt the cords on my bare wrists – by the feel of it, it was made from silk, and the red I had seen was the shade that matched my hair.  He knew what he was doing as well, as he wound the rope round both of my arms, and then took it between my wrists to make it even tighter, then tugged it again before putting his gloved hands on my shoulders.


“I trust that is not too uncomfortable?”


I tried to move my arms apart, to twist them round, but the ropes held firm – and the ribbing on my skin was soft as well.  I slowly shook my head – and then saw the doubled over length of rope as he passed it round me, and pulled it tight under my chest, forcing my arms against my sides.


It was the strangest of feelings, to know I would soon have my arms immobilised, and yes, I had consented to this – but still, with each pass of the rope around me, alternatively above and below my chest, the feeling of helplessness was both increasing – and more pleasant.  I could see the growing red band pressing down on my chest, and up, as my arms were forced against me, and then I felt the bands tighten even more as he did something behind me. 


He then out his arms round me, his hands on my chest as he kissed my neck, and I could not stop myself from sighing softly, feeling his breath on my neck as he whispered into my ear “I am not finished yet.”


Glancing to the side, I saw him take a further length of rope out, and felt him securing it behind me before he fed the length under the lower band, between my right arm and my body.  As I twisted round, I felt the rope rub on my top, and then his hand as he pulled the rope up and around the back of my neck – but glad he lifted my hair out of the way as well.  As he fed the rope round the bands on my other side, his gloved hands stroked over my chest, and I shivered again – the tension of the ropes had made them seem much, much more prominent.


I felt him work behind me again, but I had also noticed how long the rope was – and I wondered what he was going to do with the rest of it.  Wriggling round again, I failed to notice him walk in front of me – my eyes were closed in pleasure – but I did notice when he reached between my legs and pulled the rope between them and up, hiking my skirt as the lengths rubbed on my clit, and then secured the ends between my breasts in front of me.


“Walk to the mirror, look at yourself.”


I nodded as I complied, with each step the ropes rubbing on what I now realised was my damp clit, and sending tiny shocks through me with each step, before I looked at myself.  The top seemed even thither, with the bands of red stretching the leather over my breasts, but it was the red band between my legs, my skirt now hiked up almost to my waist, and I could see his smile behind me.


“I see your recliner – go and sit on it.”


My recliner was also made with burgundy red leather, with arm rests, and as I sat on it I tried to make sure the neck support was in place.  It was a little uncomfortable, with my wrists behind me, but I knew he was not giving me a choice in this as he took another length of the red rope, and walked over.


“What are you going to do to me,” I whispered as I watched him double the rope over, and then kneel at my ankles before he crossed them.


“what do you think,” he said as he looked at me, and then he wrapped the rope round my ankles, feeding the ends through the middle and pulling back as I felt them come together, saw the rope sink into the soft leather, and then felt it get tighter and tighter as he went round several times, then separated the two lengths and took them between my legs to make it tighter still.


I was fascinated by the way he worked – calm, methodical, making sure I was as comfortable as I could be, but at the same time making sure I could not move my legs apart.  And given the boots I was wearing, unless I could uncross my ankles that was going to be near night impossible.


Another length of rope, and I watched him feed it under my legs, just below my knees, and did the same thing, so that my legs were held firmly together.  As he took the rope between my legs this time, his gloved hands stroked over my legs, making me squirm – and as I squirmed, the ropes rubbed on me and between my legs.  I could now feel how damp I was there, and as I moved the ropes seemed to sink even further between the lips of my clit…


Oh god, the way that was making me feel…


I felt my legs coming together even more tightly, and as I opened my eyes I saw he had started to tie my legs together above my knees as well, the red silk bands rubbing on the leather, and the leather on leather as I felt him taking the rope around and between, making my legs move slightly as well…


Eventually, he stood up and looked at me, smiling as I wriggled round – and oh the sensations that caused.   The soft, strong silk rope holding me helpless… the way it rubbed on my top… on other things… the sound of leather on leather…


I could feel the light sweat as he went back to the bag, and took out a gold silk square and a wide roll of white tape.  I knew I was going to be silenced – and as he folded the square, I opened my mouth without him asking me to, waiting…


It was clean, and there was a slight taste to the material as he gently pushed it into my mouth, and waited for me to close my lips over it.  The sound as he peeled the tape away from the roll was deceptively soft, and his gentle pressure on my face as he smoothed the tape over my lips only seemed to add to the enjoyment I was starting to feel.  I knew it was forming to the shape of my jawline and face, and equally I knew it was not going to come off of its own accord…


“Don’t move.”  It was an order, as I watched him walk out of the room – but an order I wanted, needed to refuse as I started to twist slowly round on the recliner, feeling the ropes rubbing on me – and especially between my legs.


I felt my top sticking to my body with the sweat, but it was wonderful – the freedom capture can bring, the fact only muffled moans were escaping from my covered mouth meant I could give vent to the way I wanted to speak.


Because that damp rope rubbing between the petals of my sex was beginning to drive me wild – as I twisted round, I felt the ropes rubbing on me, felt the tiny, growing electric shocks as it moved there, felt the dampness increase, the fire growing stronger and stronger…


“I told you to remain still.”


I opened my eyes suddenly as I saw him standing there, looking at me as I slowly twisted round.  I was not going to stop now, no matter what he did to me, I was so close, so close…


“I see I will have to take charge of matters,” he said as he sat across my legs, and grabbed my chest, massaging it with his gloved hands as I wriggled under him.  The squeak of leather on leather was so much louder now, as I felt my breasts firming and pushed myself up into his hands, his fingers pressing on the leather front of my top.


As he did this, he leaned over and whispered into my ear what he was going to do – and the sound of his words were enough to make me suddenly shake as a small orgasm washed over me, the damp flow suddenly increasing under him as the skirt moved as well…


He stopped and I opened my eyes – and saw the dressmaking shears in his hand as he stood up for a moment.  That was not the only thing I saw, as he cut through my top on both sides, and then eased it up, the cool air making my nipples harden as soon as they were exposed to that, and then over my head before he tossed it to the side.


He looked at me, and smiled, before he leaned over and enclosed one nipples in his lips, running his tongue over it before he gently kissed it.  It was like nothing I had ever experienced – well, not for a long, long time, as he straddled me again and leaned over, kissing each nipple and sucking on it in turn as I ground myself underneath him.


I had seen how this was affecting him as well, as he looked at me and then sucked on my nipples – hard, for a long time, making me close my eyes and grown as I arched my back.  That was when I felt the cold metal against my clit, as he cut the crotch rope away, and pulled my skirt down.


I looked at him through misty eyes as he kissed me between my legs – and no, I was not wearing any underwear, so the soft, strong, red ropes were now rubbing directly onto my chest and upper body.


As he put his head between my legs, and kissed me there, I arched my back even more, feeling his tongue as he lapped my juices up, and ran over that sweet spot so I was shaking at the same time.  I wondered how long he would do this for, because I was slipping into a state of such heavenly bliss as he did this, as his tongue parted my petals, as it licked inside me…


How long, how long would he…


I felt him move away, and then there was the sound of him opening his pants.  I looked over, and saw him make sure he was safe, before he lifted me off the recliner and made me kneel on the floor, face down on the couch, his arms coming round and massaging my chest as he knelt behind me and pulled me towards himself.


I knew what he was going to do now as I twisted round, the cloth in my mouth sodden and pressing my tongue down, but I just moaned and pushed up against him, feeling him between my butt cheeks as he pinched my nipples and made me squeal – then massaged them even more as I groaned louder, more loudly…


And then he entered me from behind, and I gripped him, held him in me as he thrust forward, and I moved with each movement in perfect synchronization, feeling him engorge and respond, my body responding in kind, as he pushed harder, groped harder, whispered into my ear, and all the time I slipped further and further into a state of total ecstasy, allowing Nirvana to embrace and welcome me…



Of course, eventually I shook and opened my eyes wide, screaming into the gag as he gave of himself inside me, and I let him have his way, seeking every last moment of enjoyment…



Eventually, I collapsed, exhausted, sated as I felt him slip out.  Turning my head slowly, I watched as he slipped off the condom and left the room for a moment, and then heard the flush – and the sound of running water.


When he came back, he knelt behind me and slowly started to unite my legs, leaving the rope to the sides as he did so, and slipping my stockings off my damp legs – and then he rolled me over, lifted me in his arms, and carried me to the bathroom.  I could smell the scent of the bath salts before he lowered me in, the ropes still holding my arms firmly in place, the tape over my mouth and the material still inside, and he started to wash my body down – my legs first, before he finally removed the ropes and allowed me to soak fully, washing down my arms and chest with the soft flannel.


I kept the gag in place, allowing him to cleanse me, before he left, and opening my eyes I saw the robe and nightdress he had laid out.  I knew he would be gone by the time I got out, as I slowly peeled the tape away and pulled the damp gold scarf from inside my mouth.


I did not care – he had taken me where I wanted to go, with my permission, and I wondered how long it would be before he came again…







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