Author's Note: My wife and I enjoy bondage games and this is a scenario we hope to try shortly


Chapter 1

I was spreadeagled and face down, wrists and ankles stretched out across the bed. This allowed me a little margin to squirm, but nothing much. I felt the weight of my own body pressing down upon my cock, the cock she had trussed up just prior to securing my limbs. She had sheathed my erection in a single nylon stocking, using another to tie around my balls before using a third nylon to crush my shaft at the base, the centre, and agonisingly at the tip. Everything bulged, everything was being crushed by the weight of my own stranded form.

Mistress herself had positioned herself at the top of the bedstead, her legs draped over my shoulder. Deviously, this meant that my face was, at all times, pressed against her womanhood, which was delicious for her but stifling and smothering for me. I had tried to raise my head to get a mouthful of clear air, but she would adjust her position until I was unable to lift my face clear of her wetness. She was reading a paperback and paying me next to no attention, although I could tell from her breathing that my face buried against her was hardly an ordeal. From time to time I could sense her shifting in what became a rhythmic motion, and she seemed to be enjoying my muffled gasps. In fact they seemed to be arousing her somewhat, and she occasionally arched her body so that my face, by this time covered in her juices, was utterly smothered. The warmth, the wetness, the scent, it was intoxicating and yet a punishment at the same time. Mistress was wearing only black hold up stockings with a slight shine to them. Her perfect feet often rested upon my back, sliding across my skin in a way that made my imprisoned erection throb all the more. Not that I could have climaxed even had I wanted to, but that didn't lessen the sensation, the humiliation,the sense of being truly at the whim of another. 

On the bed to her left was our bag of tricks. Ropes, tights, hoods, everything  for a night of compliance and restraint stored within. I had long since divulged that I was a huge nylon fetishist, and she was a woman who regularly wore tights and skirts as an expression of her femininity. Ours was a mutually enriching alliance, my desires fed her desires, and her desires were a delight to me.

I heard her close her book and place it on the drawer side, beyond which she fully immersed herself in the pleasure I was, whether I could help it or not, giving her. As she began to move more intimately I heard her command me to use my tongue. I began to devour her womanhood, licking and teasing and varying my motion. I groaned in pleasure as I sensed what this did for her, so I let myself go and continued moaning in sounds that made clear my task was a delight and not a chore. Her juices flooded me, her hips moving ever more urgently, Her orgasm was deep and prolonged, my head being buffeted by the grinding of her pelvis and her sheer legs tightening around my head.

After a time I could sense her relax, and could hear her reaching around inside the bag. She slid herself away from me, my head flopping onto the mattress. I was tired myself, only unlike my Mistress no climax had appeased my desire. I felt her move behind me and she lay upon my glistening back, her breasts pressing upon me. I felt her hand slide under my body, to my groin as she gripped my manhood with a purposeful firmness. It throbbed in her grip, and she rubbed and toyed with me for a few moments. I was about to speak when her free hand appeared before my face holding something soft and  dark. By the time I registered them as tights she had crammed them into my mouth, forcing every last bit deep inside as I mmmmpppphhhhddddd helplessly.

She kept her hand forcefully against my mouth for several seconds, her way of compelling me to be silent. When I stopped struggling, and the only thing audible was the sound of my frantic breathing as she finally spoke.

"Today is only just beginning for you, my darling. I've got books to read, people to call. I might event invite a friend around for coffee whilst you're ensconced up here. That would be a bit risqué, wouldn't it?"

Upon hearing the last part I mmmmpppphhhhddddd some more and struggled briefly.

"No need to worry, you'd be well out of the way. And you won't be bothering us."

Mistress was enjoying tormenting my cock, but was reaching into the bag again now for something more. Eventually she needed both hands in order to pull a pair of tan tights down over my face, drawing them down until they were compressing my features. Then came a full 6ft of rope which she coiled around and around my mouth, on each occasion forcing the nylons deeper in. With an extravagant flourish she pulled ultra tight before tying them off in a double bow. Then she was reaching for the Lycra hood, an elegant finishing touch with extra padding across the eyes. Everything went dark , sending my mind and libido into overdrive. What little free movement I had I used to struggle, my muscles  flexing as they engaged in a pointless battle with the restraints that had held me firm for the last hour.

"Too much free play." I heard her decide, and she went in turn to each wrist and ankle, untying and re-securing with a renewed purpose. When done there was barely an inch of free play, and I had been reduced to a subdued toy, a puppy dog subject to whatever she wished to do next.

She went downstairs, having dressed herself in clothing I was unable to see. I heard her making nice coffee for herself, heard her put on a CD before going to take up a position on the sofa.

She was probably reading. She loved to read and could lose herself in a good yarn, which was all well and good for her but not such a thrill for me, who despite my best efforts remained securely bound. Being face down, every move I made pressed upon my rock hard manhood, and I would have been a liar were I not to admit that I often struggled just for the pleasure it brought.

I suddenly heard her voice, only it wasn't directed towards me. I also heard the door opening and another female speak.

"Thanks for the text. I was in Tesco when I got it so I thought I'd just pop by. I can't stay too long"

"Don't be silly. Stay for lunch. And I've got the Kings Speech on DVD. Let's have a girlie movie afternoon together. It's been ages since we got together. We've loads to catch up on"

"What time's Rob home? I don't want to impose."

"He's in bed. He won't be down for hours."

"Is he on nights? Does he sleep ok. Isn't he tempted to get up?"

"He won't be getting up. And we won't hear a peep from him."

"Well if you're sure?"

"I insist. Let's make good use of the day."

Two hours later I heard movement downstairs and finally the sound of farewells and the front door shutting. I was hot and clammy and no nearer releasing myself. Up the stairs she came, the door hissing open, her soft steps nearing the bed until she was seated beside me. She was stroking my back with the tip of one finger, and running a nylon foot up and down my calf. 

She could see that my breathing was intense and irregular, and she leaned in close and draped her leg over me.

"You must be one very frustrated pup? Must be at least three hours in this condition. I think we could both do with a change of scene. Now I'm going to untie your arms and your legs, but your hood and your gag will be staying on. Understand?"

I barely managed to nod. I was disoriented and delirious with lust.

She released my ankles and allowed them to come together, and then one wrist at a time, guiding each one until both hands were behind my back. She roped my wrists securely together again, several meters of good quality rope lashed multiple times and tightened every loop. Once satisfied she got me to sit on the side of the bed, smiling as my bound erection pinged upright before her. Without saying a word she pulled the hood upwards and allowed me to take some air through my nose. The tan tights distorted my otherwise handsome features, but needs must. To my surprise she loosened the rope around my mouth, pulled the nylons up just enough in order for her to pull the sodden tights from my mouth. My jaw ached and I made no effort to speak as she lowered the hood once again. I spent  several seconds drawing great gasps of air, and It felt delightful to be able to breathe freely, yet I knew there was something more to this than met the eye.

She arose and went to her hosiery drawer, conveniently locating a pair of sheer White hold ups before closing the draw quietly. She appeared before me once again, stood before my silent, attentive form. My view was obscured through the tan tights but I had already suspected that the next chapter was about to commence.