Chapter 7
A model takes a part in a FF bondage wrestling shoot
Doing it made me blush furiously of all things. To be so weak. To surrender that way. So easily. But then I did what she wanted. What she was asking for. I slowly unclenched my thigh muscles, unclasped my legs and let them fall open. The world could see my naked con though the camera. My labia on view. My clitoris. My sign of complete submission. Or so I thought.
She smiled and gently caressed my nipples gently.
"Good girl That's my good girl." she whispered to me almost intimately.
I did not expect it, but in its own way, it was kind of a rush. At least I was getting paid. I felt a bit like a prostitute or perhaps a slut. In the end though, I had little choice or face being paraded around naked and tied in front of strangers. What is the difference between housewives and cameras? Why not get paid for it. It was my only form of revenge on this woman who and tied me and tricked me into... into... into shamelessly exposing my privates to the world. I was a naked tied up... slut. That was my motivation.
Sharon gave me another.
Her hands drifted onto the crotch rope again.
She was her usual gentle self.
She was kneeling beside me and slowly and softly rolled that crotch rope side to side and back and forth for a couple minutes. Grazing the slick nylon material of the rope across my outer and with a tug, my inner labia. By leaning her hand up towards my belly button she used it the put pressure right on my clit. Eventually, after several minutes of very soft teasing, she pulled both the lengths to one side and extended her middle finger to slide across my shaved mound like a whisper of wind until her fingertip reached the nub at top of my labia minora.
Then it happened. I did not want it to, but what choice did I really have?
I gasped and whimpered into that damned gag. I blush to say that I gasped. She had done what I thought she could not ever do. She had got me going. Excited me a bit in a lesbian way. My clit was hard. There was no denying it. No lying about it even if I'd had no gag.
She teased it. Purposefully, she had made it hard this time. She kept it up. My clit was throbbing. Not by accident. Not at the newness of it all. Not in secret. Right out in the open. Where everyone would see. On camera.
"Hoh Hoh!" She laughed a bit. "Hello there... little nub." She said this last a bit breathlessly staring between my legs. She stared down curiously, but with a look of... something else. Was it longing?
I am ashamed to say that my clit was hard at being caressed with soft ropes, but that privy conversation about my clit made me pant through my nose suddenly. I smelled her smell again. I couldn't help it. Sharon's pussy smell was in my nose. Filling my senses. My clit throbbed as I breathed.
She began to caress my clit as if it was a breakable and worth a fortune. Gently and barely touching it. Then she would move her finger lower and half enter my vagina Then ease the finger back up the length of the flesh between the entrance and the underside of my clit. Then she shifted and rotated her finger back and forth quickly then teased it infinitesimally softly. Barely grazing it. Then applying more pressure. Then easing back off and barely grazing it again. Then repeated the whole cycle again. Up and down. Round and round. Then again. And so forth.
Look.
I know I had been had.
I know she had dragged me into the lesbo scene between us against my wishes. Even against my normal desires. But I have to be frank. She was good.
She was giving me one of the best fingerings I have ever had. She worked away. Edging me. Eventually she lay down beside me on the mat with her head propped on one hand. She hooked a leg around one of mine and tugged it flat. I let the other one fall open flat too so that my legs were splayed wide. I could feel her wetness and heat against the thigh on that side. My legs were now wide with my ankles essentially bound against my ass. The position let her lean forward and suck on a nipple now and then too.
I hadn't been sure I was going to be able to get off on the lesbian part of this thing. I was straight after all. Or I was until that moment when my legs fell open.
She had not only wrestled me into an unbreakable hold with her ropes and gags, she had now begun a process of flipping me over her shoulder; a kind of jiu jitsu to my sexual orientation. I had thought I was firmly straight when I arrived at this photo shoot. Within a few minutes, I changed from resisting and moved instead into a head space of total surrender to her. It was rational in its way. I already knew I could not get loose. The only way out for me appeared to let her do this thing to me. To play with me. To tease me. If that kind of rationalization had been all there was to it, then it would have been all there was to it. Giving in to get untied and then finally get paid was why I had to do.
But as she tickled my frontal lobes that damned conversation too. What she described kept running though my head. My mind kept calling it up despite whatever I might do to put it back away in my brain. I kept envisioning her leading me about with that damned belt leash. Leashed, tied and led around like a real sub through the neighborhood. A neighborhood that would be largely filled this time of day only by women. I was tied. I was naked. I was her helpless plaything. Wearing her panties on my head. Wearing her bottoms on my face really. I'd smell her pussy with each breath. I closed eyes. I'd like to say I closed my eyes and let her, but there was nothing I could do about it anyway so let's just say I closed my eyes and let myself get into it instead.
My clit got harder and harder. She started dragging wet sounds out of my lower orders. She was gentle about the whole thing. Eventually I was so wet both of us could clearly hear loud squishing sounds as she thrust her fingers a bit at a time deeper into me.
That wetness is what a hard-on is to a male.
It marks the point at which we can no longer lie about being excited. Before that a woman can fool a man. Pretend she is not excited. Conceal it like what is between our legs is naturally concealed. Until that wet sound gives us away.
I surrendered along with the sound.
I groaned.
I was officially excited then. A part of me might not want to be. That part had no say here. Sharon knew how to jerk a girl off. I was being jilled. I was panting again. Through my nose above the gag. I was hard to get enough air through those panty crotches and suddenly her scent added an extra eroticism to things. I was smelling Sharon every time I breathed. The woman who had tied me. Dominated me. Was playing with me!
I didn't want to. Then I thought of my nose buried in that smell, of her under togs wrapped around my head, being hooded with my own bikini bottom, I kind of started to get into it and totally lose it then.
I whined a bit. I moaned. I began to jerk my hips up and down. I would like to tell you I was doing it to ham it up for the camera, but it wouldn't be true. Not true at all. At that point I meant to get my rocks off and Sharon was really good at touching me in a way to assist me with that. I might not be a lesbian, but my clit no longer knew that. It only knew someone was helping it along to conclusion. I was wet.
Talk about sexual fluidity.
I began to hump her hand then. To help her. Up and down. Up and down. I began to keen in the back of my throat. Keening that sound going and letting it grow louder and louder, interspersed with my panting though my nose.
I was coming close.
So close.
I was going to come!
At that moment, Sharon lifted her fingers off of me and lay her palm on her own thigh and lay by my side with her leg sprawled over my knee. I had let my eyes droop shut as my feelings below had increased to the edge of orgasm, now I tore them open desperately. I was so close!
"Mfff?" I made a vague inquisitive sound from my lower throat.
