Copyright oggbashan January 2022
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
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As my fingers probed and caressed, I was listening for any signs of distress and watching for the safe signal.
So far, all I had heard were very muted squeals of pleasure.
I was on the settee with a bound, gagged and hooded Anne lying on me as my fingers explored her sex.
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Two weeks ago, I had asked Anne what she wanted to do for Valentine’s Day, the first since our marriage last autumn. I didn’t expect her to ask to go to a restaurant. Neither of us like eating in crowded restaurants with harassed staff, and Valentine’s Day tends to the busiest evening of the year.
But she surprised me.
“Clive? I would like an evening of being your bound and restrained plaything…”
“You’re sure, Anne?”
“Yes. We have done vanilla versions of bondage. For Valentine’s Day, I want the real thing, not minimal bonds that I could easily escape from. I want to be completely helpless.”
“Um. Have we got anything suitable?”
“Yes. I have. They were relics of an earlier boyfriend. He bought them for me, but I didn’t really trust him, so they were never used. I’d like to have done, but I was afraid if he made me completely helpless, he would go further than I wanted and wouldn’t honour the safe word or signal. But I trust you, Clive. You have always done what I wanted and no more. I love you for it. So — I want you to use those things on me that night.”
Anne went upstairs and brought down a suitcase that had been under the bed. I had assumed it was empty and under the bed just in case we wanted to go away. It wasn’t empty. Anne opened it and showed me some of the bondage items inside. The old boyfriend must have spent a considerable amount of money acquiring them, for them never to be used as he had intended.
Anne took out some of the items one by one and explained how they should be used. I was doubtful. I had never tried strict bondage on anyone, but if that is what Anne wanted? Why not?
That evening we tried some of the items on Anne, one by one, not all together. But even that aroused Anne to a peak I have never seen before. Although it was still fairly early in the evening Anne dragged me off to bed, pushed me to lie on my back and jumped on me. She rode me furiously with more determined action than she had ever done before. I was her almost passive victim as she rode me, stopping just before I could take no more and then banging away again.
We had made love many times since our marriage, but this evening was the most energetic and it was obvious that Anne was enjoying herself using me. If just trying on some of the bondage items individually aroused her so much, what would be the effect of using everything?
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On the evening of Valentine’s Day, we had a light early meal. Anne didn’t want us to have full stomachs for what was to follow.
I was surprised to see the suitcase on the settee accompanied by some of Anne’s underwear. She saw me looking, puzzled.
“Clive? The leather hobble dress can stick to my skin if I am wearing nothing underneath, so…”
She peeled off her dress revealing her red satin bra and panties. She knows I get excited whenever she is wearing them. She put on a white satin slip that stopped short of the lower part of her panties, followed by a satin ankle-length waist slip. She pulled the waistband up to her thighs. The lower hem splayed over the floor around her feet.
“See, Clive, you have access.”
I couldn’t see how until she pulled her panties down to her feet and kicked them away. Yes, then I did have access below the slip on her torso, and above the waist slip that was down around her thighs.
It was a considerable effort from both of us to get the leather hobble dress on. I had to loosen the lacing around her ankles before she could slide her feet through. I tightened it up again. The mermaid frill at the bottom covered her feet. As she started lacing the dress from the neck downwards, I worked up from her ankles.
“Stop there, Clive,” Anne ordered as I was about nine inches below her crotch.
“And now, tighten up here…”
She pulled at the laces over her chest. I heaved each one as tight as I could before knotting the ends at the lower edge of her upper slip. Ann wriggled. Apart from the gap in the lacing, she was tightly squashed into the hobble dress. There was no way she could walk or even totter wearing it. The lower mermaid frill extended beyond her feet.
Anne was wobbling as she stood constrained in that dress. I gently lowered her to sit on the settee. As her knees and legs bent, the lower part of the hobble dress tightened.
“Clive? There’s a drawstring down there.”
Anne pointed to the mermaid frill. I dropped to my knees and looked. Yes, there was a drawstring at the bottom hem. I pulled it tight and knotted it. Anne’s feet were now bagged in the dress. There was no way she could stand up.
“Roll me over and use the arm glove, please?”
I had to lie Anne along the settee face down before feeding her arms behind her back into the arm glove. Two straps held across her shoulders. The arm glove needed the laces tightened. Starting at the wrists I yanked the laces tight before knotting them as far up as they would go. Finally, there was a strap beyond her gloved fingers that fastened to a D-loop on the back of the leather dress. Not only were her arms squashed together, but she couldn’t even wriggle them in the arm glove.
“The last couple of items now, Clive. Remember? I won’t be able to say the safe word. You’ll have to watch for my signal if it becomes too much. I don’t think it will. Even this much bondage is making me feel very, very sexy…”
The next item was a big squashy ball gag. I forced it into her mouth and buckled the straps tight around her head. I could just about hear her grunts but nothing intelligible. The straps meant she couldn’t push the ball gag out of her mouth. I was afraid that the straps were too tight, but Anne seemed happy.
The last item was the leather hood. I asked Anne if she was ready. She nodded.
The hood zipped to the neck of the hobble dress. I pulled it up over Anne’s face and started to lace it up starting just above her forehead. As I went, I had to stuff her hair inside. When the back was fully laced, I tied the lace through the slider of the zip and knotted it.
The mouth on the hood had a cover that buckled across the lips, shaped to force the ball gag deeper. I closed and buckled that. There was another cover that came down across the eyes. I kissed each eye before I covered them and fastened the flap. Anne was now completely encased in leather from beyond her feet to the whole of her head. I pulled her so that she was across my legs with her hooded head on my shoulder.
Gently I inserted a finger through the part where the hobble dress had not been laced. I felt underneath her slip and probed until one finger was inside a warm wet place. I moved it very gently and I could feel Anne responding. Her hips bucked slightly as if to say ‘More! More!’. I heard very faint whimpering sounds through the hood and ball gag.