Authors note: Although not really a Part Two, I'm intending to fold these characters in with the characters in my first story in the future, so please check that out too. I'm also feeling that after two relatively slow burners, I'm going to have to bash out something quick and nasty next time. Please comment and vote if you read, because I really have no idea what I'm doing right or wrong.
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Gretchen couldn't see properly. Her hair had fallen down in front of her face, and no matter how she twisted her neck or flicked her head she couldn't get it out of the way.
"Jesus, stop jerking around Gretch!" Stan sounded pissed. Of course she couldn't see him in her position, but she could feel his hands working away at yet another knot, securing her ankle to the top of her thigh, and she could imagine his brow contorted in concentration and his tongue sticking out as he set about his work. "This is for us remember?" he added.
"My hair's in my face and I can't see a damn thing," Gretchen informed him coldly. "Could you do something about it? I promise I won't... bother you if you do that."
"Hold on babe." Stan slowly tightened one of the many, many ropes and Gretchen felt the heel of her right foot pressing into the bare right cheek of her ass. "How's that?"
"Ow... a bit too tight. It's gonna hurt and cramp like that I think."
"Ok babe." The rope was loosened and Gretchen felt her foot resting in a more comfortable position an inch or so away. Right now Gretchen couldn't summon many positive feelings or opinions about Stan, but he was still considerate and professional when it came to binding up a naked woman like a thanksgiving turkey.
He came into her line of sight now and she was shocked for a minute to see he was still fully clothed while she was bound, increasingly helplessly, stark naked, face down on the bed. She couldn't crane her neck up enough to see his face, but she watched him pick up one of the red head-scarves she wore for work from the dresser and kept still as he pushed her hair back and tied it around her head.
"You'd better not get anything on this," Gretchen smirked, "I have to wear it to work tomorrow."
"I'll be careful babe." Stan said, but his voice was distant. Gretchen pulled a face as he walked back around to her backside, looping another rope around her legs, securely binding her thighs to her calves.
Gretchen and Stan had been dating for, what? Five years now she guessed, and increasingly they had been having problems. Problems like Stan thinking Gretchen was a cynical bitch, and Gretchen thinking Stan was an utter jackass. They were both adults, and neither of them wanted to give up on a relationship that had been so good (it had hadn't it? It was so hard to remember that far back now) so they started on a series of last ditch schemes to re-ignite, to repair, to restore what they had before.
They took a camping trip out to beyond the edge of nowhere and fucked up against a fence while they watched horny horses doing the exact same thing in a field. That hadn't been so much of a success since Stan had lost his temper when Gretchen wouldn't stop making jokes about the relative size of the stallion's cock and his own member. Gretchen had no idea why he would be so fucking touchy about that, after all his dick was... well it was a not inconsiderable proposition itself.
In fact if Gretchen was really honest with herself, Stan's wonderfully proportioned prick was a big check in the "positives" column of their relationship. She could understand that she might have been ruining the mood for him, but if their idea of what the mood should be like was so different, were they really right for each other?
Other than the camping scheme they tried porn, scheduling more time together, weeks without TV, more porn and even considered threesomes, but both kind of chickened out of that last idea.
Gretchen was out of ideas, but she felt she owed it to Stan to at least try when he suggested that they step up from the light bondage and hand-cuffs that was often a part of their fucking, to some serious rope bondage. It was something he'd always wanted to try, he admitted. And when she had given him the ok, he had dived headfirst into it - and she had watched him buying enough rope to restrain an elephant and fitting a steel hook into the ceiling of their bedroom with butterflies flitting around in her stomach.
Stan was almost finished she realised, and she started tensing her muscles and testing the restraints of the ropes that coiled around her again and again.
Gretchen was lying face down on the bed, her head tilted back so she was looking straight forwards, pulling the muscles of her neck taught. Her shoulders were both pulled back and her arms were securely tied together behind her back, forming a single line down her spine with her hands emerging from a tight bundle of rope just above her curvy ass.
When Stan had forced her arms back like this and bound her she had been kneeling up, and it had forced her breasts out as if for inspection and maybe that had been the point when she felt most embarrassed and vulnerable.
The loss of control, putting herself completely in someone else's power, at the mercy of their whims - she relished all those things, and she liked the spice it added to her sex life. This time though, so close to their relationship breaking down, she realised her trust in Stan was eroding, everything felt different. His eyes on her felt more calculating, she felt more of an object that he could just ogle and inspect and then fuck. Was that objectification what some people craved? She guessed it must be, but she wanted the connection - the feeling that the restraint was for her benefit as much as it was for his.
Stan had grinned at her pose, and couldn't help himself from roughly grasping and squeezing her breasts as she thrust them out against her will. She had kind of giggled along then, but then the butterflies started again as he looped more rope around her chest and arms that cut under her breasts and over them, so that they squeezed out obscenely from between two bands of restraint. It didn't hurt but she became painfully aware of how exposed she was, and her nipples and flesh seemed to become more and more sensitive every minute.
Her arms bound like that, she had been laid face down and he had bound her legs. Bending them at the knees, he had secured her calves to her thighs in two or three different places so that the heels of her feet rested an inch or two away from the curve of her backside. All along he sure as hell hadn't been sparing the rope, going over areas of her tingling skin again and again until in certain places she almost felt... clothed. It was a strange sensation, but she never forgot the sensation of the cool air passing between her legs or her slightly distended breasts.
Next he had gently parted her legs, and though she caught her breath she had let him, knowing that he must be inspecting her pink lips, and trimmed hair but not knowing anymore what he was thinking.
"Is that comfortable?" he had said softly.
"Uh-huh."
"Ok, I'm going to tie your legs now so you can't close them. Don't be scared."
