Chapter 13 - Finale
A model takes a part in a FF bondage wrestling shoot
I smiled to myself beside her. On a whim I pulled out my phone and began to film her sitting there; bound. I don't think she knew I was doing it -- she was that focused on the screen action. Holding the phone by her shoulder with one hand to make it a kind of POV angle, I reached between her legs and ran my nails up the gusset of her panties. She grunted then and bent at the waist as far as the bindings allowed. She looked over at me without my letting her see the camera. She was breathing hard. Part of it was fear I think, fear of the unknown. Fear of where this was all going. Fear of what all this meant. The other part though, the bigger part, wasn't fear at all. She was hot as the barrel on a machine gun on full auto over watching those videos.
Horny.
No question, she had enjoyed her work in those days.
I reached over and taking her by her chin made her look back at the screen. The girl who was eating her had visibly changed her demeanor. Her reluctance had gone. Sharon kept twitching her big toe and moving her foot. The girl was rocking her hips from side to side. She was clearly riding that toe and that foot. Determined to get some pleasure out of what was happening to her.
I began to rotate my fingers across the bump of Sharon's clit that was standing up inside her panties. She gasped and bent and then spread her legs as wide as they would go. She kept watching the screen intently and began to hump up against my rotating fingers. I alternated grazing her clit through her drawers and rubbing her bits vigorously, then returning back to grazing, before rubbing again a bit later. She was breathing hard inside a minute. She had her legs spread and was panting and humping my fingers. Like the girl on the screen, she had given in to pleasure against her will.
I confess it. I had only small experience rubbing any pussy other than my own. Reach arounds are usually for teenagers in parks or automobiles. Cocks are one thing, but this was totally different from my normal pattern and I let myself fly in my first girl-girl reach around. She was getting hotter and hotter. I had rarely seen that look on another woman's face except the times I had to do it on film, and here is was again. New. Fresh. Different.
I glanced at the screen. The Hispanic woman was well over protesting. She was openly humping away on Sharon's foot while Sharon clutched her head and made her eat out her pussy. Then it happened. The tied-up woman on the screen screamed into orgasm. The Sharon on the screen yanked her screwed up face back into her own pussy using the vocalization as a form of vibrator and after a few seconds yelled out her own come to the heavens.
The Sharon in the here and now, tied to her study chair in the rich suburban home and being fingered by another woman totally lost it then and I heard her shriek like a wild thing and withing her whole body began to hump herself to orgasm on my fingers through the crotch of her panties, flapping her legs open and closed, straining at her bondage and moving her hips frantically.
I let her finish and lie there, slumped into her improvised cloth ropes and truth to tell I used my now free hand to finger my own slit and clit through my jeans as I watched the Sharon on screen slither to the floor in completion and the Hispanic woman slump to one side, both of them spent.
I came close to coming myself, but backed off. I carefully placed my phone against a book on the end of the desk and left it there... filming... hoping I had gotten the angle correct to catch what happened to Sharon next.
Sharon lay tied in her chair the whole time, her head lolling forward. I think she was out.
I picked another movie and clicked it on the computer.
Guess who?
It was the end session of the first movie we had made all those years before. I watched Sharon deliver her cheesy dialogue and then watched myself, bound, gagged and struggling as Sharon began to caress me and mess with my privates. A psychologist would tell you I should have been repulsed. But they deal in archetypes and groupthink. I am a person. An individual. My feelings are my own. I had had years to internalize them too. Years of orgasming to a fantasy of Sharon leading me tied up and led around by a belt leash through a neighborhood of ordinary women in their houses. I wasn't repulsed. Not at all. To be frank, I was turned on immediately. This poor helpless woman on the screen was being used by this other woman. A woman with a killer body. Who stripped herself down. Who stood over her victim, her legs akimbo and her hairy mound pushed forward with hands on her hips. It was so erotic I realized my fingers were pressing my jeans half way up inside me and working me into a lather and I had not even taken my pants off.
I glanced over at Sharon. She was awake again, and her eyes were riveted on the screen. She was even breathing hard again. It surprised me a bit, she had just come.
I took hold of her chair and rolled her back a couple feet.
In a flash I knelt and then grabbed two more pieces of material I proceeded to tie her ankles to the closest two legs of the five with casters under the seat. She was looking at me as if mesmerized and hardly kicked her legs or resisted at all. She was left with each leg cocked backward and off the floor. Her eyes drifting to the screen and back to the me kneeling and tying her tighter as if she was hypnotized or something.
She didn't protest verbally at all.
I smiled at her. I stood. Slowly and deliberately, I undressed. Almost a strip tease. Top... then pants... then bra... then panties. I kicked off socks and shoes in middle somewhere. Once I was naked, I assumed her pose from the film. Legs spread and my mound pushing forward. Hands on hips. I was proud of the image she was seeing. I had been training hard for a movie that started filming in about a month. I play a female cyborg so I had to be totally ripped on screen and between us I was stronger than I have ever been in my life. I was working with a movie trainer six days a week and my arms were strongly muscled, I had a six pack and I had let the doctors tinker with my breasts a small amount so they looked great and not mashed flat, crushed under layers of toned Pectoralis Major and Minor muscles that sometimes happens to women when they are weight lifting. I was all woman. But a strong woman. I looked good and knew it. Oh! And ever since my divorce I had let me pubic hair grow back in. It wasn't blond really, more a light-colored brunette. Sharon was staring at it now since it was level with her face. She had taken in my powerful body and was now mesmerized by my bush. I stepped forward and sat on her lap in a lithe move. I slithered my arms between her back and the chair and yanked her close. Our lips were inches apart.
She was half shaking her head in denial, but I wasn't having that. I pulled my arms out, grabbed her head in my hands and ever so slowly and gently pressed my lips to hers. Out breaths mingled and I slowly began to slide my tongue around her lips then returned to the kiss. She grunted and tried to move her head away but eventually relaxed and let the kiss continue. I could not be sure, but towards the end I think she was actually relaxing a bit into it. I got impatient though.
The fates were working overtime, because in the background, from the screen I heard myself saying "Sharon! You... you...kissed me!" in disbelief. I leaned back and smiled at her stricken face. She was breathing hard. She had kissed me back though.
"I can't believe I let you do that!" She said softly.
"Let me? You are the one tied up here. You did not have a choice. What was your line? Oh! Yeah! This is power exchange!" I smiled smugly at her sitting there tied to her big comfy work chair. "You are mine now... darling!"
Sharon screwed her face up. The bikini bondage wrestling woman actress, producer and director and had tried hard to bury her past. Take on the new and straight suburban mom persona. She had been working on being driven by those instincts for years now. In denial really. She still had access to all these movies that made her life a lie. I wondered how many days or nights once the kiddies and husband were asleep, she snuck in here and lived her old life vicariously by firing up these movies and playing with herself. I shook my head. I couldn't image the hypocrisy and denial it must have taken.
