The 'Tie-Up' Game.

by hornykate

I think this is just a one-off. Its something that maybe did, maybe didn't happen. Who knows. I just wanted a break from the Virginia stories. Its a thing of little consequence.

We'd played this game before. The 'tie-up' game. She instigated it. It played to her need to control others. And it satisfied something within myself, though at first I'd been a bit reluctant. The 'she' I'm referring to is my girlfriend. The (usually) quiet almost book-ish Melanie. Straight, lustrous black hair, my raven-haired beauty. Pale skin. A slenderness I adored as I loved to feel the ridge of her pelvic bone when we lay naked. And when we were laying naked, we were as equals in all things. But not now, as I was strapped to the bed, bound to all corners with cords that gave me little movement. We'd done this, not often, but often enough for me to look forward to it. I'd gone from being willing but hesitant to just plain old willing. As I say, it tapped into something in my psyche. She, the controller. Me, the controlled.

I'd 'allowed' her to have her way with me. I was, in these moments, a virtual slave. She'd straddle my face and tell me to lick her cunt. Then move slightly forward and direct my tongue to her ass. She'd order me to rim her ass or slide my tongue into her shitter. This is how she'd talk.

"Lick my shitter, you cunt, taste my shit-hole..." and things along those lines. She became someone different, as did I. One day she'd pissed all over my face, telling me to drink it, using language that came from somewhere else.

"Swallow it you fuckin whore, drink my piss."

The orgasms these actions brought us to were truly Homeric, epic in scale, that left us shaking and exhausted.

Whilst I lay, bound and sometimes gagged, she'd crawl over my body, telling me the things she'd do to me as I lay powerless.

"I'm gonna bring a dog and get him to fuck your cunt you bitch...he's gonna come in your mouth and your gonna drink all his dog cum...I'm gonna get a schoolboy to fuck you in the ass...or a little schoolgirl, I'll get her to sit on your face so you have to lick her hairless little slit...after I've pissed over you I'm gonna shit over your tits you filthy cunt...".

None of these things had happened, and I'm not sure either of us wanted them to, but it aroused both of us to such a feverish pitch, the perversions became a part and parcel of the occasion. Except for one, which triggered something inside me, something I dared not reveal to Melanie. It was the schoolgirl thing.

More than the others, it made my heart beat a little faster, my pulse quicken a little more, and what seemed like an electrical charge shoot through my cunt. I worried in case Mia my daughter overheard us. We always looked in on her before we played our 'tie-up' game, or indeed whenever we went to bed, just to make sure she was fast asleep. She was only 8, so come ten o'clock or thereabouts, she was usually deep within her little dream-world, so it wasn't likely she'd hear us in the throes of passion, but still, as a good mother, worry I did.

Then one day, things changed. And what changed was a blindfold. This was new. And rather exciting. I lay on my back, bound in the usual expert way, but now in complete darkness. I felt my lover caressing my feet, my calves, my opened thighs. I loved this build-up, the anticipation of what perversions she had in mind for me, of what she'd physically do to me.

Her hands ran gently up my torso, as though she were checking all my ribs were in place. She touched, stroked and then lovingly pinched my nipples. I felt her lips brush against them, her tongue licking. Then I felt her breath near my ear, and her voice, soft, seductive, telling me she had a surprise for me.

For some reason I felt a little alarm. The fantasies were abstract things, images conjured up from fertile imaginations. But the mention of a surprise suggested something tangible, something real. And then I felt it.

She was stroking my cheek but there was something in her hand. Fabric? Yes, fabric. What was this? An item of clothing possibly? She brought it to my face.

"Smell." It was an order and I obeyed. "What do you smell?" she asked.

I could smell a faint musk. They felt slightly damp. Knickers? I asked the question. She quietly hissed "yesss!"

"Whose?" I asked, feeling a rising sense of panic.

"Well, they aint mine." she whispered.

"Mine?" I asked, ridiculously. She softly laughed.

"No."

And I knew. I knew whose they were. "Are you my slave?" she asked. My mind was in turmoil. "Are you my slave?" she repeated, a little louder.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Lick them." And I'll never be able to explain why, but I did.

As I licked, I felt her finger push the fabric into my mouth.

"Suck it.

Taste it."

I did. I could think of no reason I should be aroused but I was. Massively. She demanded I tell her what I was doing. She wanted it in my own words.

"I'm licking Mia's knickers," I said, knowing she wanted details, "I'm suckin the gusset of my 8 year old daughter's knickers."

"Imagine its her cunt." This shocked me but I was so wet. "You wanna lick her dont you," and added, "do you want your next surprise?"