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                                 Bondage/ang-john
                                     Russ Post
                                   Angie and John
                       Angie was beginning to get worried, while she had lost all
                 sense of time, she did know that it had been an awfully long time
                         since the last time John had done anything to her.
                       It had all started innocently enough, at a party of course.
                 John had pulled out a pair of handcuffs and put them on her, as a
                                   way of getting her attention.
                       Well, it had worked, she splashed her drink in his face and
                   demanded that he take them off.  He ran off shouting something
                   about his eyes, leaving her screaming at him at the top of her
                  lungs.  Unfortunately she lost track of him in the crowd and sat
                 down demurely on the couch, not enjoying at all the attention she
                 had attracted to herself.  As long as she was just sitting there,
                   the handcuffs seemed to not get in the way very much.  It was
                 when she tried to do anything that they really bothered her.  She
                 ended up spilling the entire contents of her purse trying to find
                 something she could try to pick them with.  There was nothing but
                    make-up, ATM receipts, gum wrappers, and other useless junk.
                  Eventually she gave up and piled everything back into her purse.
                    Three other people sat down on the couch and started passing
                                          around a joint.
                       Naturally she joined in.  They all thought it was funny to
                  watch her take a drag using both hands and she started making a
                   show of it.  She hardly noticed when the joint was gone, along
                    with most of the people in the party, she sat there with the
                   bottle of beer that seemed to appear out of nowhere and waited
                   for that bastard to come back.  It was sitting there with her
                   hands on her lap and the various chemicals wafting through her
                   brain that Angie realized that she was getting very horny for
                 some reason.  Either that or she had to pee real bad and couldn't
                  tell.  No...she was definitely horny.  She held the beer bottle
                  tightly between her thighs and squeezed, pushing it against the
                     tight crotch of her jeans.  With her arms she squeezed her
                  breasts in on the sides.  Quickly she looked around to make sure
                 nobody was watching her.  She looked right into the eyes of John,
                   a little bloodshot, since Vodka wasn't very kind to them.  She
                                        froze.  Did he know?
                               "I thought you would have left hours ago."
                                    "What, with these on my wrists?"
                        "Everybody's got keys to these.  These are those cheapies
                        that they made those belts out of a few years ago."
                        "Well I don't, so I'd appreciate it if you'd get your key
                                     and get these off of me."
                        "I've got it in my room."  Surprisingly, this wasn't fol-
                   lowed by some sort of sly wink, which caught her off guard be-
                                    cause she was expecting one.
                       "On second thought, I'd better not let you out of my sight
                                              again."
                                            "Right this way."
                         It was a huge house, built of large stones in the 19th
                 century.  If there had been a college nearby the place would have
                  been converted into a fraternity house ages ago.  Fate had been
                   kinder in that the place was merely shared by a group of grad
                                             students.
                       "I didn't know you lived in this house," Angie said as she
                                        climbed the stairs.
                                 "In the attic.  I fixed it up myself."
                         They got up to his room and Angie ooohed with pleasure.
                                    "This is really incredible."
                           "Like it?  Here, have a seat and I'll get the key."
                      She sat on the edge of the bed.  While John shuffled through
                  a drawer, she stroked the light brown wool blanket that covered
                    the bed.  Curiously, she found that the contrast between the
                  blanket, her lightly tanned wrists, and the nickle-plated hand-
                 cuffs with the light from the track lighting reflecting off of it
                          was esthetically pleasing.  What an odd thought.
                                               "Found it."
                      He knelt down and picked up her hands to take off the cuffs.
                 She held his hands and looked into his eyes.  "I'm really sorry I
                                   threw my drink in your face."
                                         "I've suffered worse."
                      Angie actually began to feel guilty for hating him.  He had,
                 after all, only been playing around and she built it up into this
                                    whole big deal in her mind.
                        Looking at him, Angie realized he was quite handsome, and
                  his hands felt so strong and firm, yet gentle as they held hers.
                       She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.
                        He didn't move, and momentarily Angie feared that she had
                  made a horrible mistake.  Actually she had, but not the one she
                              was thinking of, as she found out later.
                         He pushed her back onto the bed and laid on top of her,
                 kissing her with a passion that only fanned the flames growing in
                  her loins.  She wanted to hold him close, press her body harder
                   against him, but her hands were still chained.  Indeed, he had
                   hooked the chain of the handcuffs with his left thumb and was
                                  holding her arms above her head.
                       He leaned to one side and with his free hand, began unbut-
                 toning her blouse.  She was panting too hard to voice the slight-
                                 est protest, she was too aroused.
                         With her arms pinioned above her, and her body helpless
                  under his weight, she could feel his hardness against her mound.
                   She felt exposed, and helpless, and as he began to caress her
                   breasts, she could swear she was about to come.  She struggled
                    and squirmed, but only ended up rubbing herself against him
                                              harder.
                      Then he began to use his mouth, twirling her nipple with his
                 tongue.  She couldn't resist any longer.  Hooking her legs around
                  behind his, she ground herself against his cock.  She wanted it
                   inside her so badly that she was determined to push it through
                    the two intervening layers of denim.  She strained her arms
                  against the cuffs, her chest was heaving when he bit down on her
                 nipple.  Her scream echoed throughout the attic room.  It was one
                   of combined ecstasy and pain, frustration and release.  Angie
                            came hard, and it left her weak and panting.
                                   "Oh god...John...Please...fuck me."
                                "I guess you don't hate me anymore then?"
                                 "Oh please, don't punish me this way."
                                     "How shall I punish you then?"
                        Angie had no idea what John had in mind, but she would do
                   anything now that she was worked up to this peak.  "Anything,
                                            just do it."
                       She didn't quite catch the comment he made about Pandora's
                  Box, she was too busy trying to catch her breath.  While he was
                   messing around with something in the closet, she reached down
                           with her chained hands and unzipped her jeans.
                       She slid them off and onto the floor, along with her soaked
                   panties.  She wriggled her way onto the center of the bed with
                 her head on the pillow.  Lying there in just an unbuttoned blouse
                  and a pair of handcuffs, she began to play with herself.  "Come
                                             on, John."
                       Then she heard the jingling sound.  She propped herself up
                  on one elbow to see what it was.  It took her a moment to figure
                   out what it was, and she wished she hadn't.  The jingling was
                 coming from the rings and buckles hanging from this mass of black
                   leather and straps.  Then she re-considered.  Part of what had
                   turned her on so much was the feeling of helplessness, kind of
                   like being the damsel in distress.  She recalled how much she
                  enjoyed it when the boys in her neighborhood played Cowboys and
                  Indians and she got to play the Indian princess who got captured
                  and tied up by the Cowboys, or the Cowgirl who got captured and
                 tied up by the Indians.  She had heard about people who were into
                  bondage, but had never even considered what she would do if she
                  actually met one.  She even began to wonder if she was one her-
                   self.  She began to look towards this encounter with curiosity
                  and anticipation.  If she didn't like it she could just ride it
                  out, but if she did, and she certainly was in a receptive mood,
                     she would be in for an incredible experience.  Anyway, she
                   couldn't run screaming from the house in her current state of
                                              affairs.
                       She put on a sultry look.  "What are you gonna do with all
                    the hardware, big boy?"  It wasn't Mae West, but she tried.
                             "That is for me to know, and you to find out."
                        "I'm not entirely sure I want to find out."  Actually she
                    did, but she couldn't give in that easily.  "What's that all
                                               for?"
                       "I'll tell you as I go along.  But first, I'll have to take
                    those off."  He was referring to both the handcuffs and the
                                              blouse.
                              "Hey, that's no fair, you're still dressed."
                       "You're in no position to complain my dear, Nya ha ha ha,"
                     he said, twirling the end of an imaginary mustache.  Angie
                    couldn't help but laugh.  She kissed him.  "Okay, I'll try."
                       John removed the handcuffs and she slipped off her blouse.
                         She noticed the deep lines on her wrists from the hard
                                steel, and she started to rub them.
                         "Give me your hands, I have a cure for that."  What he
                   actually had were leather wrist cuffs.  They were fairly wide,
                   about three inches, and held closed by two big silver buckles.
                   There was a large ring hanging from a D-ring attached to them,
                   and it was pretty obvious to her what it was for.  Compared to
                   the cuffs, these were actually comfortable.  They fit tightly,
                  exactly against her skin, but they conformed to the shape of her
                 wrists.  Then he produced a pair of ankle cuffs that were exactly
                                      the same, only heavier.
                       "This is getting interesting.  You're turning me into quite
                   the proper slave girl, aren't you?"  She held up one hand and
                  rocked it back and forth.  The rings jangled together.  "And you
                 don't even need bells..."  She put her hand on his thigh and then
                  slid it higher.  She felt his hardness return.  "Take me...Mas-
                 ter."  This role was easy to slip into, and it made a very inter-
                                            esting game.
                      "You take me," he said, leaning back on the bed.  Angie took
                 her cue instantly, getting down on her knees and taking the shoes
                   from his feet that were hanging over the edge of the bed.  She
                  peeled off his socks, which were still fresh (He must have taken
                   a shower just before the party, she thought) and massaged his
                 feet.  She looked up at him, and met his eyes, and without break-
                        ing her gaze away from his, began kissing his toes.
                      He patted the space beside him on the bed and she was there,
                   nestled under his arm, running her hand across his chest.  The
                   ring caught and jingled on each of his buttons, so she started
                   unfastening them.  She pulled aside his shirt and gazed at his
                  chest.  If she had seen him without a shirt this summer when he
                   was getting this tan, she would have been dating him already.
                  His skin was so smooth and perfect, hairless, except for a thin
                  ring around his nipples (Why do men have them anyway?  She won-
                    dered as she ran her fingers across them one by one) and the
                      curly wisps coming up to his navel from below his belt.
                       His belt was her next target.  She unbuckled it, unbuttoned
                  his jeans, unzipped the fly, and slid her hands down so that she
                   could pull down his jeans and briefs together.  Fortunately he
                 gave her a hand by putting his feet up on the bed and lifting his
                   hips.  She nearly gasped at the sight of his perfectly defined
                  stomach muscles.  How could he find time to study while he kept
                                   his body in such great shape?
                        Throwing the pants to the floor, she looked upon what she
                  had unveiled.  From her experience, she could tell that this was
                 a better than average cock.  Men always claimed to have more, and
                  he was certainly below some of the exaggerations she heard, but
                   when compared to the reality, this was something special.  She
                  could wrap both of her hands around it, and still have plenty of
                   it left to suck, which was exactly what she did.  He let out a
                  grunt, and she could feel the muscles tensing in his crotch, so
                  she stopped.

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  That ought to fix him, she thought, make him want
                                              me, now.
                       It did, John grabbed her and pulled her to the bed, kissing
                  her and stroking her tongue with his.  He pinned her arms above
                    her head, and then she realized that he was actually hooking
                         ropes from the posts of the bed through the rings.
                        She started to pull, but it was too late, he was already
                 tightening the ropes to her legs.  She was spread completely out.
                    He remounted the bed, poised himself above her, and paused.
                                              "umm..."
                      "Pill," she blurted out, trying hard not to lose the mood of
                                             the scene.
                        "Right," he said, and guiding himself with one hand, slid
                 his cock with excruciating slowness into her flooded vagina.  She
                  pulled against the ropes and moaned.  Arching her back and shak-
                                  ing her head from side to side.
                        He penetrated her to the fullest, and she gasped with her
                   eyes wide open, and flopped back down on the bed.  John began
                  stroking in and out, varying both the tempo and length.  It was
                  too much for Angie.  She strained and pulled, she was breathing
                   so heavily that she could hardly manage a low scream that was
                                    more like a VERY loud moan.
                        "Aaaarrrrrh!" John was coming, and stroking very quickly.
                 Angie was just on the brink, and when she felt those contractions
                    as his sperm came spurting into her, she went over the edge.
                   Angie came even harder than before.  John collapsed on top of
                   her, without withdrawing.  They were both panting and sweaty.
                     The two just laid there for a while to catch their breath.
                       A few minutes later, John climbed off the bed, and surveyed
                    the spread form of Angie on the bed.  Sweat glistened on her
                   heaving breasts.  Her closed eyelids were still darkened with
                   arousal.  Her clenched fists strained against the leather and
                                              relaxed.
                         Angie opened her eyes and looked up at him.  "That was
                  absolutely incredible," she said dreamily, "But, could I get up
                                               now?"
                        "Maybe," John smiled.  Quickly, he went to the closet and
                   returned with a few padlocks and a length of chain.  First he
                  connected the chain to her ankle cuffs with two locks, and then,
                              with the third, he connected her wrists.
                      Angie watched the whole proceeding with a bemused expression
                      on her face.  "I assume, then, that you mean to keep me
                                            around...."
                      "Let's just say I've had my eyes on you for a long time, and
                           I've always fantasized about making you mine."
                       "Mmmm, keep doing this to me and you'll get your wish.  But
                          right now, I really have to go to the bathroom."
                        "Well, there's one downstairs...."  She looked at him in-
                  credulously.  "...but there's another right around there behind
                                           the wardrobe."
                        "Thanks," she said as she hopped off the bed.  The chain
                               rattled loudly on the hardwood floor.
                      While she was gone, John made preparations for what he hoped
                                      she would agree to next.
                       Angie rattled back in to the bedroom just as John finished
                    untangling the pride of his collection.  "What is that?" she
                  said, pointing with both hands (As if she had a choice).  Hand-
                 cuffs, ropes, and even leather shackles she could understand, but
                  what was before her eyes now, she couldn't even guess what part
                    of the body it was for, let alone how it went.  If that long
                     cylindrical thing was supposed to be some sort of , where
                                          did her legs go?
                                     "I think I'm in over my head."
                                        "No, but you will be...."
                              "Wait, this is going a bit too fast for me."
                      "I'm sorry, I guess I was getting carried away.  I've always
                 had a passion for this sort of thing, and with you it seemed like
                  a fantasy come true.  I'm sorry if I've scared you.  If you want
                                       to go, I'll let you."
                       Angie looked at him.  He looked much better to her when he
                  was in control.  "Look, it's not that I'm scared....well, I am,
                  sort of, but I've really enjoyed this so far, but I just need to
                                  know were it's going to end up."
                       John visibly brightened.  "You have?  I've never met anyone
                                  before who shared my interests."
                      "Well, I don't know exactly if I do, but I think I might.  I
                          just want to understand what I'm getting into."
                      "Well this..." John said, holding up the head harness.  They
                  laughed.  "But seriously, ordinary sex just never really did it
                  for me.  The bondage, when I did it to myself, just concentrated
                 everything, and made it so much more intense.  When I could do it
                    to a woman, I knew the pleasure she could experience, and it
                  thinking of it just charged the experience for me.  The trouble
                                was, usually that wasn't the case."
                       "Well, I can tell you, that experience was certainly over-
                  whelming for me.  I felt helpless, but I wasn't frightened...too
                      much.  And you're not too bad at the ordinary sex part."
                        "Comes from reading Mom's Cosmopolitan when I was a kid."
                                           There was a pause.
                               "Do you think you'd like to try it again."
                           "I guess, I'm not sure when I've got a free night."
                       "It's Saturday, do you have anyplace you have to be tomor-
                                               row?"
                      "You mean now?  I need to think a bit."  Once she had firmly
                   banished the thought that anything could go wrong, she agreed.
                                 "Now what exactly is this thing."
                          "Come here and I'll show you.  This part goes in your
                                             mouth...."
                       When that last buckle had been buckled, Angie was kneeling
                 on the floor.  The gag harness filled her mouth, and the attached
                   blindfold blocked out all light.  The harness had a strap that
                   went under her chin, and that, combined with the stiff posture
                 collar held her head completely immobile.  John had also placed a
                   belt with rings on it tightly around her waist and locked both
                  her wrists and ankles to it.  A long strap encircled her elbows
                 and then wound around her chest below her breasts.  Another strap
                  was cinched just above them.  Two more secured her ankles to her
                  thighs.  And finally, her nipples protruding between the straps
                  got a pair of clamps.  Those worrisome thoughts began clawing at
                                    the back of her mind again.
                        John stepped back and surveyed his work again.  Angie was
                 more suited to bondage than any of the women in his collection of
                 magazines.  He had taken care to make sure her black hair cascad-
                  ed over the straps of the harness instead of being trapped under
                  them, so it looked like something she might have put on herself,
                           like it was meant to be there for a long time.
                        "It's done," he announced.  He watched her shift a little
                   bit in her bonds, testing them.  God, he was harder than ever.
                  John reached down and began gently stroking himself as he walked
                  around her.  Angie knew he was moving and tried to face him, but
                 between the blindfold and the rest of the bondage, the effort was
                 pointless.  John started the VCR, pulled on some clothes and left
                                             the room.
                      Eventually Angie became aware that John had left.  She began
                 to struggle.  She breathed deeply and strained against the straps
                    across her chest, but that only tightened the loop about her
                 elbows.  She tried to reach the buckles of the shackles, but they
                  were just beyond her fingertips.  She squirmed and twisted, but
                                    John had bound her too well.
                          The sensory deprivation was getting to her too.  She
                   couldn't see, there was nothing to hear except the creaking of
                   the leather as she struggled and her own desperate breathing.
                   The prod of the gag was soaked with her saliva.  She bit down,
                          but the leather-covered foam was too resilient.
                        It seemed like hours.  Finally she settled down, resigned
                   that there was nothing that she could do.  (This is where our
                                           story began).
                       After what seemed like another eternity, she began to worry
                   again.  What if something had happened to John?  She could die
                   bound up like this!  She had to escape!  Her furious struggles
                 left her lying on her back, after thumping her head on the floor.
                       She heard someone coming up the stairs and she froze.  Who
                 was it?  When the hand began caressing her breast, she decided it
                                          had to be John.
                      "I hope you haven't been waiting too long," he said, "I just
                         took about half an hour to clean up party debris."
                      That was only half an hour!  But her nipples were burning in
                   the clamps, and all those thought that had been racing through
                   her mind....still, the sensation of being touched again, after
                          what had seemed such a long time was so intense.
                       Then, he lifted her onto the bed.  A surge of sensation hit
                   her as he unclamped one of her breasts and began massaging her
                    nipple with his tongue.  It was as if her entire being were
                    concentrated in that one point.  The rest of her bound body
                  slipped away from her attention, with the exception of the prod
                                           in her mouth.
                        The Harness/Gag/Blindfold had held most of her attention
                  when she had first been bound.  The sensation of having her head
                   tightly encased in stiff leather was new and startling to her.
                   The way the prod was irremovably held in her mouth emphasized
                  that her head was IN the harness.  It was very difficult to put
                   in to words the sensation of confinement that device gave her.
                  Of course, now it was annoying because she was starting to pant,
                    and the strap under her chin kept her teeth tightly clamped
                                          around the prod.
                         Where had John learned his technique?  Most men tend to
                    spread their attention around, playing a little bit with one
                  breast, then perhaps nibbling an ear, then moving on to another
                 area, without leaving any one of them completely satisfied.  John
                  was still kissing and caressing her one free breast.  Angie was
                 getting so aroused she wanted to scream, but all she could manage
                 was a raspy hum.  She squirmed on the bed, but John kept nibbling
                               on her breast.  Then he surprised her.
                       Unnoticed until he struck, John had taken the clamp he had
                   removed from her nipple and suddenly snapped it on Angie's in-
                   flamed clitoris.  She tried to kick, but the straps around her
                 thighs prevented that.  She couldn't reach either, because of the
                  leather shackles on her wrists.  All she wanted to do was remove
                  that clamp, and she couldn't.  She groaned in pain and frustra-
                                               tion.
                       "Oh, you don't like that.  Let me kiss it and make it feel
                                              better."
                       John knelt on the floor, removed the clamp, and buried his
                  face between Angie's shackled feet.  He sucked hard on her lips
                   and clit.  He penetrated her deeply with his tongue.  He even
                  blew lightly on her vagina, the cooling air shocking her nether
                                              regions.
                        Finally, John decided he was ready, and stripped off his
                  jeans.  This time he penetrated her rapidly, and Angie's entire
                    body shook.  John pumped as fiercely as he could and within
                   moments, Angie came, her scream finally making it through the
                   leather than had silenced her.  John, however, wasn't finished
                   and kept stroking madly.  Angie began to feel the tide rising
                 within her again.  As their rhythm reached its fevered peak, they
                                       both came explosively.
                       After he had cleaned himself up, John began gently removing
                  the bonds from Angie's body.  Her knees were cramped from being
                    held so tightly for so long, and she was sweaty and sore all
                  over.  But it was a good kind of sore.  John accompanied her to
                 the shower, and they took turns scrubbing each other's backs, and
                                             fronts....
                         In the morning, Angie awoke in John's bed, but John was
                   nowhere to be found.  She got up, but the chain she discovered
                  around her ankle kept her from getting out of the bed.  A folded
                  note on the nightstand said "Stay put."  She laughed.  She began
                  to speculate on whether or not she'd be at any of her classes on
                      Monday, and then she remembered that Monday was a school
                                            holiday....to More 1st Sex Stories
                                                  
                                                  

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