Schoolgirl's Poorly Timed Bondage

Author's Note: first time writing here, but will do more. Positive and negative feedback is appreciated, particularly on the pacing.

All characters are at least 18 years old (but not by much).

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As scattered clouds drifted across the late afternoon, the cooling day blew a mild but gentle breeze over the street as Melissa and Alex walked home from school together. Alex took in a deep breath and exhaled, clearly enjoying the spring smell and humming to himself. Although she walked alongside him, Melissa had difficulty appreciating the good weather while experiencing a different pleasant sensation.

She focused to maintain a steady rhythm of breathing, because under her school uniform the tight ropes constricting her body would retaliate if her movements changed how the cords and knots had settled around her. Even a slight change in stride would tug one turn of the rope, which would pull a knot and cascade into many digging and pinching feelings. Especially under her skirt. What had she been thinking?

Those

knots were definitely overambitious, and those feelings constantly threatened her composure, but she maintained a calm expression with force of will.

So far.

At least she hadn't spent the whole school day this way like she had first planned, instead tying the secret ropes around her after gym class. Otherwise it would probably have become too uncomfortable and she would have given up on the whole idea. But a few hours of this was tolerable, and would definitely be worth it.

Melissa had "accidentally" put on an old skirt that morning which no longer fit according to the exact uniform code, but aside from plenty of lingering glances from other students she hadn't gotten in any trouble with the teachers, at least this time. She was a senior and it was the end of the year, what were they going to do, anyway. What might get her in trouble was this mild breeze, which she could feel all the way up her legs and constantly wondered if it might blow any stronger while they walked.

Alex, for his part, remained oblivious. She expected nothing less, and he would remain so after her plan was complete. If he had perceived any stiffness in her posture, or tension in her face, he had not mentioned it. He also hadn't taken any notice of the extra duffel bag Melissa carried, which contained the rest of her items.

"Alex, this is where we part ways," Melissa said, stopping in place. "For now."

"Huh?" Alex said, halting his walk to glance all over the street, the hills, various buildings, and signs, as if he had been totally blind to them before she spoke. "This isn't the right street. And what do you mean 'for now' anyway? Aren't you going home?"

"No. At sunset, meet me at the abandoned utility building behind the park."

"Behind the park? Like that one time?" Alex said, then swallowed. They had made out there a couple weeks ago, but had not visited since. His face showed a mix of concern, excitement and puzzlement.

Melissa faced away from him, and brushed a breeze-blown lock of black hair back behind her ear. Until she told him, nothing else would have happened, but now her plan was in motion, her heart was pounding like an animal contained in the cage of ribs and the strong cords pressed tight on the skin of her breasts, back, and over her shoulders. The binding low around her waist and dipping between her legs was more than she could stand. Almost.

"Yes," Melissa said, "but you won't come any sooner. You absolutely must not."

He swallowed again, then said "Alright, I understand."

She left him without another word, and started walking down the side street. So much focus needed, so little to spare.

"Melissa--" Alex said, then stopped himself, thinking better of it. He watched her proceed to the park, eventually going his own way, until the appointed time. Good.

The ruined cinder block structure was a fairly short walk away, in the woods close to the park, which would give her plenty of time to complete her plan before Alex arrived. She was excited enough to sprint all the way and not feel winded, but the pressure of the ropes ensured she kept moving at the same slow pace.

Melissa had discovered the abandoned building by chance. Walking alone, it was easy to wander into strange places only a little distance from the beaten trail. This place was clearly some kind of old utility station, small in footprint but fifteen feet high, with lots of exposed pipes, chipping paint, rusty valves, and not a single intact glass window. Objectively, Melissa could recognize a normal person would think it was ugly and unsafe and ignore it, if they even found it at all, but the seclusion was perfect for her. She supposed only herself and recently Alex were the only people to set foot inside in years.

It was cool inside, and Melissa set about kicking away the odd bits of wood and glass, then unpacked her bag in the middle of the room, an old flower-print beach towel,electric lantern, her entire stash of half-inch fiber rope, a steel hook with a latch, three cut strips of fabric, and a thermos.

First, beach towel on the floor. Then she hung the lantern over a valve knob and turned it on. The tree foliage was so dense it was already growing dark, and the glow of the lantern cast eerie shadows inside, which made her smile with satisfaction. A little bit of a creepy atmosphere was just the kind of danger she craved. Melissa took the longest length of rope and tossed it over an exposed beam which jutted out of the ceiling, and pulled down the other end and tied it to the hook with a triple hitch. She gave it a sharp tug to tighten it and test it, and then, satisfied, let it drop to the ground with a clink. She picked up her thermos and another short piece of rope and walked over to the wall, where several large pipes were anchored to the building wall.

She ran the shorter rope around the pipes several times and lashed it tight, forming a solid anchor point. Opening the thermos, she slid out her release mechanism, and gasped as the small block of metal and ice plopped into her hand. It was a simple pair of metal tubes slid together, with a ring on each end, a thin locking pin holding them together, and then frozen in ice, leaving the rings sticking out of either end of the cylinder of ice. Now that it was out of the thermos, timing was critical. Melissa quickly tied one ring to the pipe lashing and the other to the long strand she had tossed over the ceiling beam.

She returned to the middle of the room to check the hook dangled at the correct height, which should be several centimeters the highest she could reach while standing on her tip-toes. She'd had to guess at the correct length from observation instead of being able to measure precisely, so she'd used a much longer length than would be needed just to be sure. Still, some trial-and-error was required to pull out enough slack to correctly position the hook and it off the final time, and she left a large amount of rope unused. It wouldn't really matter, this setup was all going to be packed away before Alex came here. A little untidiness was fine.

The plan was simple: fifteen to twenty minutes of being tied up, fifteen to twenty minutes of rest, cleanup and steamy anticipation before Alex arrived, then unleash the frenzy of sexual energy upon him. Enough time to do it, but not so much she could be bored waiting for him and lose the feeling she was building up to share with him. After hours of hidden torment by her own knots, it was going to be extreme.

When she bent down to reach into the bag again, the crotch rope twisted ever so slightly over her panties, the knot grinding on her clit like an aggressive finger. She gasped, a long gasp which turned into a quiet, desperate moan. She froze, stuck half-crouched, her right hand pressed into the duffle bag all that was keeping her balanced upright. She was burning hot inside, panties damp with excess energy. Her pleated gray skirt had ridden up her thigh, and she grabbed onto the hem and held on for dear life, fighting with all her strength not to slide this hand up her skirt, along the skin of her inner thigh, push her fingers on the ropes, push them between and under the ropes, and finger herself to a spectacular climax.

She breathed heavy pants, chest aching around the ropes squeezing her breasts. She felt the inside of her uniform shirt pressed on her nipples stiff against the coarser cotton with no bra protecting them.

No, no, no

, Melissa thought, dropping to one knee, not even on the towel, but touching the fallen leaves over the dirty concrete. Her left hand came up from the bag and trailed up her left leg, while her right hand, as if with a will of its own, let go of the edge of her skirt and swept its fingers underneath.

No, stop

, Melissa thought, battling her body's pain and arousal. Her right hand pushed under her skirt, feeling her thigh, going straight for her throbbing, knot-bound pussy. Her left hand did not follow, but glided over her skirt and up her side, forcing its way in her uniform shirt, hot on the side of her body, on her ribs, up and feeling over her breast. Melissa groaned as her self-control neared the edge, groping her own tied-up boob, fingers on playing on her nipple. She tried to stall her right hand's conquest by making it grab and squeeze her inner thigh, right next to her crotch, but it was no use.

She looked down, and in the warm lantern light how her right hand had pushed her pleated skirt up to show how deep the harsh fiber rope had burrowed into her soft pink panties. She saw how soaked they had become, and the sight of herself made Melissa even hotter, her right hand hovering over her pulsing sex, heart racing.

How many times? How many times had she masturbated just like this, tying ropes so tight over her underwear (or no underwear at all) and writhing in bed, making love to herself, playing with her body while looking at pictures and videos just like this? Her hand moved over her crotchrope, fingers gently touching its surface. It felt so good, so incredibly good, she needed it, needed to tear the rope out of the way and fuck until she came.

"

No

," Melissa groaned, teeth clenching, she ripped her hands away from her body. She let the left hand fall to her side, and pushed the fingers of her right in her mouth, touching her lips, her teeth. She bit down on them, hard enough to hurt, punishing them for their lack of obedience. She moaned around fingers from the pain, it felt good too, but not nearly as good as if she had let them finish her. She was on both knees now, kneeling in the dried-out leaves. She felt the warmth of her breath on the fingers in her mouth, and licked them with her soft, wet tongue, like she was sorry for biting them. Her other hand moved behind her, pressed over her skirt and squeezed her own ass, and kept going.

Melissa could only moan around her fingers as she licked them a little more, and her left hand pulled the back of her shirt up then slid under the waistband of her skirt, and took hold of tightly bound rope beneath. She closed her eyes and pulled on it gently, letting out a deep sigh as she removed the fingers from her mouth.

Steady

, she thought, focusing all of her attention on the rope between her legs, held in a hand stuck down the back of her skirt. Melissa breathed in and out, feeling her heart pump and pulse, grinding on the rope. Holding completely still, Melissa focused on steadying her breathing, energy cooling back down to a constant simmer instead of the very brink of orgasm.

Back from the edge.

That was a close one

, she thought, resuming her task.

Better get tied up, and fast.

She pressed her wrists together for a moment and smiled, imagining how the ropes would soon feel on them. Before she could enjoy it, she had to gag herself. Two of her strips of fabric were white, one was black. She took the shorter white piece, rolled it up, and stuck it in her mouth, wide across her teeth, rough and dry on her tongue. Working quickly, she twisted the longer piece and made a large knot in the center, then raised it to her mouth and pushed it in, pulling the gag tight and tied it behind her head. She carefully swept the shoulder-length locks of hair out from under it. The final piece of fabric was selected for its elasticity, to help hold it around her head without it falling off. She folded it lengthwise until it wouldn't let light through, then tied the two ends together and pulled onto her head, but not yet covering her eyes. Very soon, she would be trapped until the ice melted enough for the hook rope to separate from the wall. The knot over her panties felt furious but she didn't dare touch or she would lose all control.

At last, everything was prepared. Melissa picked up her last piece of rope which was already fashioned into a pair of cuffs and slipped them over her wrists, which left a single short loop extending from the center. She cinched each cuff and tried to resist the electric thrill, but the ropes and knots around her body were exciting her so much it was almost painful.

Not for the first time Melissa thought about how much easier this would be with a partner, but Alex was as vanilla as an ice cream sundae and for all his excellent qualities was not, as she was, a kinky pervert with a mind as filthy as this unclean floor. Handcuffs would also be a lot easier than this, but hiding ropemarks was its own risky game Melissa enjoyed, something for her and her alone.

Melissa positioned herself under the waiting hook, looking right up at it to ensure she gauged it right, then took a deep breath, pulled the blindfold snug over her eyes, and lunged up at the hook, casting out the short fixed loop between her cuffs over it.

To her surprise, Melissa felt the snag as she successfully landed it on her first try, but this joy was cut off in an instant as her arms and her entire body couldn't come down from that height and she was trapped hanging from her wrists, barely supporting herself on the tips of her toes. Her body weighed down the rope cuffs and held them tight, locking her arms overhead as strictly as steel shackles, and she couldn't relieve the pressure because she had measured the height perfectly and was already trapped at her maximum reach. The hook had a snap to lock in whatever it carried unless the snap was held open, but she could never both hold it open and pull her bound wrists out of the hook at the same time. There was no way out now, no way except the ice release. It wasn't especially painful, she'd tied the knots to prevent constriction, and her wrists weren't in danger of losing circulation, but Melissa had absolutely no escape.

It was ecstasy. The ropes on her body were so intense they could've burned her. The blindfold stripped away all security of sight, making her feel even more helpless and exposed than if she was naked. Despite herself, Melissa couldn't help but moan around her gag, twisting about under the hook, rubbing her thighs together, trying to get any amount of extra pressure on the rope and knots between her legs.

She twisted in her bondage, turning to the left, then the right. No relief. She pulled on the wrist bindings, trying to twist them around, push her wrists closer together, or on top of each other, or further apart. Nothing. Melissa tried moving away from the hook, to find some angle, some difference in pressure, but could only get her toes less than a foot away from the central point. She struggled, biting on the gag, grunting, pulling with all her strength. Nothing. There was no give at all, Melissa had tied her knots far too well. She dangled in a black void, no concrete walls or woods, just her and the miserable ropes.

Melissa moaned, her skin becoming sensitive everywhere, touch becoming her only useful sense, but only the places on her body where the ropes held her flesh. She raised herself up on her left leg, rubbing her thighs together, trying to press on the cords between them, but it didn't help, it didn't get any relief. She tried again, raising her other leg, higher, feeling the cool air on her damp underwear with her leg lifting her too-short skirt. She groaned and panted. She kept trying to rub her thighs together, but nothing helped get her any closer to getting off. She might as well hump the air. She tried that, oh she felt dirty and so horny for trying that.

God, this was torture! At least in bed she could roll around, press her body against the mattress and pillows, or her fingers, palms, or other toys. This emptiness around her was somehow more intense than feeling wrapped in a blanket, or the arms of a guy. She couldn't see anything, the blindfold held fast, she couldn't even see any part of herself. What did she look like now? A beautiful black-haired girl, bound, gagged and blindfolded? Her gray pleated skirt too short, showing too much of her legs, her arms tied overhead, helpless, shirt riding up to show a little stomach. Her shirt felt tight, like it was trying to chafe against her nipples intentionally. Was the breast tie showing through her shirt? Was the crotchrope visible somehow? She thought of how she almost came from the knots before, and let herself moan loudly, but it was muffled by the gag.

Melissa tried twisting, but it was just a wiggle. She tried hopping, but her feet didn't leave the ground, after all she was only touching it with her toes. Untied and free, she was an athletic gymnast, used to be a cheerleader, and could still do a split in mid-air, if she could crouch and leap, but now her body was on in her armpits and shoulders, with not even the most extreme stiletto heel to help lift her up. She grunted, biting the cloth in her mouth, sinking teeth into cotton as she pressed her right leg into her left, trying to get any action on the knots between them. Hopelessly futile, the movement barely adjusted the binding, the same constant teasing pressure which never got any weaker or more forceful.

She stood up on just the left leg, calf muscles raising her a few millimeters more so her right could lift higher and rub up and down her thigh, but this was still nothing to what she needed to do to her body with her fingers. Melissa imagined what someone would see coming into the abandoned building, see her trying to cum with just her thighs and a knotted crotchrope while her skirt was lifted high enough to show everything. Her hands pulled at the rope cuffs as Melissa growled and chewed her gag in frustration, pressing her legs tight together and getting no more pleasure, only an increasingly hot flowing dampness seeping into her panties.

She was going to go crazy with lust. No, she

was

crazy with lust. Drool trailed down her chin and dripped onto her shirt. Blindfolded and bound like this, she was utterly helpless to anyone who could step out of the darkness at any moment and lay their hands on her body, touching her, caressing her, stroking her legs or reaching up her shirt and skirt, feeling where Melissa needed them most. But she couldn't even touch her own body, her hands fingers clawed at air and the dark void, and only ever brushed against the same taut rope that kept them away from her desperate body.

Gravity restrained her, and only gravity could free her. Before long Melissa was softly pleading, begging through her gag for relief. She tried to think of her plan, of the time. Surely the ice would melt soon! She'd tested it before with a large rock, and hadn't been twenty minutes before the ice thinned enough for the pin to pull free. But with her bondage, she couldn't see the ice lock, she couldn't anticipate the melt, just hang from the ceiling and frustrate herself.

Melissa realized she was losing track of time, cycling through brief periods of anger, frustration, pleading, and endurance until she tried to escape or bring her urges to a climax. She was going to cry, she realized. It was too much for an erotic young woman like herself. This was so much more intense than she had planned, but it wasn't intense enough, not in the right places. She should have added an extra rope to connect her crotch rope to the overhead beam and make it tighter, or some other means of making herself orgasm.