No Escape and Happy About It

After a lot of independent vetting, several face-to-face meetings, and an arrangement where a good friend was in the other room, I finally elected to have a bit of "pick up play" with a local Dom.

OMG, he scratched itches that I didn't have the slightest clue were tickling me.

He's a self-professed "sensual rope top" who seemed to have zero presence in the local scene, yet he also has quite the rep in certain circles. A series of messages with both himself and other gals he'd played with made me think that he might be what I wanted/needed.

Even after sending pics of myself he was still very keen to play, asking questions about my flexibility and previous rope experience. We negotiated what sort of things I was hoping for, what he was looking for, as well as minimum expectations, and limits beyond which I didn't want him to go.

I really was looking for the experience of being fucked hard, repeatedly, while helpless to stop him. He was satisfyingly D&D free and I can't get pregnant so we decided that he could go bareback.

He shows up, my friend and I are watching TV. He and I go back to my bedroom. He doesn't have me strip. Instead he pulls out a roll of duct tape and proceeds to wrap my arms behind my back, wraps it around my hands, wraps my arms to my body, wraps my legs together (and I'm thinking how can he fuck me now?), wraps it around my ankles and my feet. He rips off a thin strip and wraps my toes.

He does this all very matter-of-factly, totally in control, Like he's not giving me any choice. The he pulls out a handkerchief and looks at me. We'd talked about gags and I didn't know. But at this point I'm dripping like a leaky faucet, I want the full experience. I nod, he shoves it in my mouth, then tapes it closed with multiple strips of tape.

The he pulls me to my feet. He's supporting me as I'm standing there on taped up ankles and feet, completely off balance and on the verge of falling over. He hops me around so I'm even more disoriented. He looks at me again and I'm practically melting. Then he doesn't just let go, he shoves me backwards. I'm done, utterly terrified, thinking I'm about to hit the floor, crack my skull and die. But instead I land on the bed, bounce once and... I'm fine. Jesus fuck!

Then he unzips his pants and brings out his rock hard cock. It's not so much long as thick, and I want it in me. He brings it to my face and I'm and desperate to suck it but I can't because of all the tape. I'm trying to shove that fucking handkerchief out, scrunching my face into all sorts of extreme shapes trying to get that tape off.

Then he pulls back, shoves his cock back in his pants, zips up. The he pulls out a pair of safety shears from his bag and throws them on the bed next to me and walks out of the room. He just fucking walks away!

I think if he'd touched my pussy right then, even through my jeans, I would have exploded. Instead I can't do a goddamn thing.

I spent several minutes thrashing around, hoping that there was some way I could get loose. The scissors were a joke, how could I possibly use them? If my life depended on my getting loose I'd eventually be a corpse. I couldn't even get my toes loose. I felt like the most pathetic loser ever.

He'd left the door open and I could hear him with my friend in the other room, laughing at something they were watching together. Was I supposed to go out and get him? Or would he be coming back? How could I possibly get out there when I couldn't even stand? I spent several more minutes wriggling and thrashing to no avail.

--

So my friend and rope-top-guy are in the living room watching a movie. That fucking asshole left me wrapped up like a duct-tape-sausage while he decides to go watch a movie (I think it was Captain America, the first one, but I'm not sure. I had a lot on my mind). I thrashed and wriggled and struggled and strained but he knew what he was doing. I was trapped.

I was so wet that I swear it had soaked through my panties and was visible on my jeans. Don't laugh, that's actually happened to me.

I'm lying on my stomach on the bed trying to catch my breath through my nose (because my mouth was taped up; I'm glad I wasn't stuffed up!) and I hear them talking.

"Seriously, is she going to be alright out there?" my friend asked.

"Yeah. Any minute now she's going to figure out that she's supposed to come out here," he replied, maybe a little louder than he precisely needed to.

I took a deep breath and let it out with as loud of a growl as I could manage. I hoped he could hear it and how pissed off I was. I sort of thrash-struggled-undulated to the edge of the bed until I was sitting with my taped-up bare feet dangling a few inches from the floor. I schooched forward, slowly sli-i-i-ding towards the floor, the sensation on my pussy not so much scratching my itch as increasing it, finally falling the last inch or so with a light thud. It felt like a mile.

So there I am, standing unsteadily on taped legs and feet. I'm leaning on the bed even as I know I'm going to have to do something to get into the living room. I try to shuffle forward but between how tight my ankles are taped, the tape around my feet, and around my toes, I can't move them independently more than maybe a quarter-inch.

I'm going to have to hop. No way am I going to do this. I will fall and break my face if not my neck. I am going to die standing here on the cusp of the biggest orgasm of my life because I can't get loose from a couple strips of duct tape. I am the biggest loser in the world.

I hop one tiny step forward.

When I don't fall, I do another. And another. And another a bit further. Then another and another and another and anotherand anotherand anotherand anotherohfuck I'MFALLING and I'm leaning on the wall.

The wall is my friend, it won't let me fall. Yay wall. You understand me. Thank you wall. I continue hopping into the living room while leaning against the wall as if my life depends on it.

And I'm in the room with rope-guy and my friend staring at me, the latter with her jaw hanging open like she's trying to catch flies. I'm breathing in and out through my nose like I've just run a marathon, I'm sure my face is the color Superman's cape and I am ready to kill someone except I know that if all this fucking tape suddenly disappeared I would be across the room like a piece of steel to the magnet of his cock, sucking it like it was an oxygen tank to a drowning woman.

"Uhm, is she alright?" my friend asks.

"Well why don't you ask her?" he replies.

"Are you... are you okay?" she asks me.

Am I okay? Of course I'm not fucking okay! I'm wrapped up like a papoose, I can't breathe, I'm about to fall over and break my face, and this asshole bastard WON'T FUCK ME! I know that all I have to do is shake my head vigorously "no" and he'll immediately cut me loose, scene over. Red.

But what do I do? There's my head nodding up and like a wacky wobbler while I go "Uhm hmm! Uhm hmm! Uhm hmm!" through all that wadding and tape gagging me.

"See, I told you," he says to her. Then, looking at me, "Babe, your friend says you have some really good microbrews in the fridge. Go and get me one, okay?"

I swear, I was about to cry. My heart fell into my stomach. I was... god... I didn't... I just stood there and struggled for a minute or so before taking a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and hopping across the room, past them on the couch, through the kitchen doorframe, across the cold kitchen tile floor, before stopping in front of the fridge.

I felt... steady. In spite of standing there like a living bowling pin I felt like I wasn't going to fall over. Somehow, when I hadn't thought about it, my primitive monkey-brain had taken over and figured out how to bunny hop without killing myself. It's amazing what the brain can do!

More to come...