by Alison Tyler
“You are a terrible brat! Probably because I promised not to spank you.” Lorrie sounded as if she were scolding a pet.
The tone reminded Malinda of the silliness of this whole idea. She let her body relax as Lorrie pulled her wrists off the wall. In fact, she could play with this a little more. She stuck her tongue out at Lorrie, half in jest and half from genuine childish irritation.
Lorrie gave a dramatic gasp. “Come into the bedroom. You’re lucky I’m creative enough to know how to punish you without hurting you.”
Malinda didn’t help—Lorrie had to drag her. Malinda tried a full-on raspberry. Lorrie just grinned and shook her head. She seemed genuinely indulgent, unflappable in a way Malinda had never seen.
Malinda blinked in wonder and tried the raspberry again.
Lorrie clucked her tongue. “You’re going to have to take off your clothes, Malinda, whether you like it or not.”
Now that they’d reached the bedroom, Malinda glanced toward the bed. Bright construction paper chains looped all four of the bedposts. Lorrie had pasted a red paper heart above the bed and replaced the lampshades with waxed paper fashioned into fake stained glass. She’d made it up with their nicest sheets—the ultrahigh-thread-count ones they hadn’t really expected to receive from the wedding registry. It was all so cute and sweet that Malinda couldn’t help but get a little more obedient. She undid the buttons down the front of her work shirt, then stepped out of her jeans.
“Take it all off,” Lorrie said.
Malinda rolled her shoulders back and reached behind herself to undo her bra. “I don’t see any fuzzy handcuffs.”
“You really seem to want those,” Lorrie teased.
“I’m just surprised.”
Lorrie shrugged. “The traditional first anniversary gift is paper.”
“It looks great, but I don’t think it’s going to hold me very long if you make me struggle.”
A surprisingly wicked gleam came into Lorrie’s eyes. “If you break my pretty paper chains, Malinda, I’m going to have to punish you.” She sounded like a demented kindergarten teacher.
“I seriously do not want to be spanked.”
Lorrie cocked her head to one side. “You really seem to lack imagination about this, Malinda. Lie down.”
Malinda lay down.
“Spread out wide for me.”
Malinda did. The paper chains rustled as Lorrie looped them around Malinda’s arms and legs. She pulled them tighter than Malinda expected, leaving very little leeway for Malinda to move without ripping them.
“Good.” Lorrie dropped her voice to a husky whisper. “Now don’t move a muscle.”
“What are you—Oh god…” Before Malinda had time to finish her question, Lorrie jumped onto the bed on all fours and lowered her mouth to Malinda’s clit. “Lorrie, please,” she hissed. “It’s too much.”
Lorrie slipped her index finger inside her and looked up with that innocent expression again. “You let me do it when we first met.” She executed a long lick, from the top of Malinda’s vulva, through the folds, over her hole and practically down to her asshole.
It felt like heaven—but not in any warm and fuzzy sense. Lorrie’s tongue was hot, white light with the power to blind and burn.
“Holy Christ, Lorrie, I can’t take this.” Malinda clenched her fists tight, tensing every muscle in her arms to hold them still.
“Well, if you really can’t, you can say ‘safeword,’ and I’ll stop.”
Lorrie swirled a circle around the shaft of Malinda’s clit. Malinda gave a strangled cry. Lorrie propped her elbows on Malinda’s upper thighs and pulled the hood off Malinda’s clit.
Malinda couldn’t even handle the sensation of air across the bared nub of flesh. When Lorrie tapped her tongue straight onto it, Malinda screamed and kicked her left leg hard.
She tore the chains around that leg clear in half.
At the sound of ripping paper, Lorrie froze and sat back on her heels. “Oh, Malinda, that’s going to be very bad for you.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Punishment.”
“Listen, Lorrie, why don’t you let me eat you instead? I’ll happily go down on you for hours, just…”
Lorrie’s index finger drove into Malinda’s ribs, transforming her words into a gasping, shrieking laugh. “That tickles!”
“Yeah. That’s the point.” Lorrie jabbed and prodded just under Malinda’s flopping breasts. Until that moment, Malinda hadn’t realized the power of Lorrie’s position above her. Lorrie pinned her to the bed completely, wrapping her legs around Malinda’s thighs to seal herself in place.
“You need to relax, Malinda. You say you want to have fun, but how much fun have we been having? I’m not asking you to do more and more for me until you make yourself crazy. You’re doing that yourself and acting like I’m the one responsible.” She pressed writhing, undulating fingers into Malinda’s armpits.
Malinda jerked, but knew better than to rip any more of the paper chains if she could possibly help it. She would have responded to Lorrie’s words if she’d been able to speak. Instead, all she could do was pant and twitch and stare up at her beautiful wife.
“I get to punish you now, Malinda,” Lorrie continued, “and this is what you get. You’re going to have to laugh. Hard. Harder than you can stand it. Every time you break one of my chains, I’m going to make you laugh even more. And when you’ve laughed so hard that you’re too exhausted to fight me, then I’m going to go down on you until I make you come. I can’t make you take my love, but I can make you take that. And you’re damn well going to.”
Lorrie’s words shocked Malinda, but her merciless, tickling hands left no way to express the feeling. Malinda struggled for breath, the laughter starting to become pain. The more she jerked beneath Lorrie, the more aware she felt of both their bodies. She’d always thought of tickling as a child’s game, but now, when each spasm Lorrie forced seemed to travel straight to her cunt, it became a very adult pastime indeed.
Her wife let up for a moment and spoke in a more normal tone of voice. “I’m about to tickle you into the next dimension, bratty Malinda,” she said. “Are you going to say ‘safeword’ or are you going to take it like a woman?”
Later, Malinda would think over all the things Lorrie had said. Now, she lifted her chin, that sense of rebellion filling her again. Slowly and very deliberately, she lifted her right arm and ripped up more of Lorrie’s paper chains.
“Oh, you are asking for it.” Lorrie flung her full body onto Malinda. She seemed like a writhing, tickling animal. It wasn’t just her fingers. She tickled also with her toes, her hair, her lips, her teeth. She grabbed Malinda everywhere, wiggling teasing touches on the insides of her elbows, along the sides of her neck and behind her knees.
For the first few seconds, it was fun to laugh wildly. Then Malinda began to feel out of control. Breath no longer reached her lungs according to a regular rhythm—it came whenever she could manage to drag it in. Her every limb flailed wildly, controlled only by Lorrie’s weight on hers. She tore up all the paper chains. She kicked a heel against the bedpost. She lost all sense of time. Never had she been so completely in someone else’s power. For as long as Lorrie continued, Malinda’s body would be utterly at her mercy.
She begged. She bucked. Tears ran down the sides of her face. Her chest and belly ached from laughing, and yet she could not stop.
Lorrie offered no relief. Malinda had never guessed her wife possessed the capability for such focused torture. Muscles she’d never thought about began to hurt. The tops of her thighs cramped from struggling beneath Lorrie. The sides of her neck seized. She screamed, sobbed and howled.
“Please!” Malinda shrieked. “Please! Please!”
Lorrie paused. Still, Malinda could not move. She lay flat on the bed and gasped. Lorrie leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “You still owe me five more minutes. You broke every one of my paper chains.”
“God no.
” Malinda shook her head frantically. “I can’t.”
“Because I’m so nice, I’ll give you another way to pay me back. You can lie still like a good girl and let me lick that pussy.”
“Lorrie, I can’t do that either.”
Lorrie tsked and shook her head sadly, then lifted her hands like claws. “I’ll have to go back to tickling, then.”
“Oh please, no!”
“Then lie still.” Now Lorrie’s voice became a sensual purr.
“All right,” Malinda said. She thought she’d die if she laughed any more. She allowed herself to go limp, exhausted enough that she didn’t have the energy to struggle when Lorrie applied her excruciating tongue to Malinda’s slit.
Lorrie moved slower this time. Malinda panted like a marathon runner, her eyes squeezed shut, but her muscles tickled to submission. “Good,” Lorrie soothed. “That’s good. See, this doesn’t hurt. I’m not hurting you.”
“But you are,” Malinda groaned. She didn’t think she could explain how badly this hurt deep down in her chest, in the center of her heart. Her eyes slitted open. Beautiful Lorrie lay between Malinda’s legs, with her impossibly wholesome looks, licking Malinda with a loving expression that wounded every part of her.
“Shh,” Lorrie said.
She lapped Malinda gently, yet the pleasure was still just this side of bearable. Malinda stirred, about to push her head away, but Lorrie laid a cautioning hand on Malinda’s stomach. She lifted her head and studied Malinda. Lorrie’s fierce teasing had melted away, but Malinda had still been stripped bare by it. She lay vulnerable and defenseless before her wife, feeling more naked than she’d ever been.
Lorrie stroked Malinda’s head, her fingers catching in the tangles of her black hair. She retrieved what was left of the paper chains near Malinda’s left hand and draped them lightly over her wrist. “You’re still tied down,” she whispered. “Don’t move. Don’t break the chains.” Lorrie repeated the gesture at each of the bed’s corners, and this time Malinda didn’t feel the need to tug and test.
She breathed steadily and slowly. Each of the paper chains could have weighed hundreds of pounds for how firmly they held her now. She wanted them to chain her to Lorrie forever.
“That’s good,” Lorrie said, her voice barely audible. “You’re not going anywhere now.”
And once more, her head dipped between Malinda’s legs, her neck curved and gentle like a deer drinking from a pool. This time, pure ecstasy dripped into Malinda’s slit along with Lorrie’s saliva. Its rough surface forced pleasure into her pelvis and up into her body, warming her everywhere. Malinda realized she was crying, but, wrapped in Lorrie’s paper chains, she lay still and let the tears come.
Then the sweet, stabbing joy of Lorrie’s tongue pierced the last of Malinda’s defenses and release came, bringing with it a cry from the depths of Malinda’s soul. “Please! I can’t!”
“You can,” Lorrie whispered against Malinda’s cunt, and there was no refuting her, because Malinda did. She came hard, held in place by Lorrie’s paper chains and her love.
Lorrie remained motionless, her tongue flat against Malinda’s clit, until the last of the spasms passed. Then she crawled up Malinda’s body to lie at her side. Even exhausted this way, trembling with pleasure and emotion, Malinda felt compelled to ask, “What can I do for you?”
“Sh. You just did.”
ROPENOSIS
Teresa Noelle Roberts
Get undressed, Diana,” Michael said, caressing the hank of blue rope as he spoke. It was an invitation to delight, couched as an order I’d have a hard time questioning, and that just made it better. Easier. Even I had a hard time starting a conversation about something scientific or getting lost in a tangential train of thought when I was being “ordered” to do something I thought was a wonderful idea anyway. We hadn’t been dating long. I wasn’t sure Michael knew yet if I preferred beer or wine, Mexican or Chinese takeout, but he’d made a point of figuring out the important things quickly.
I shed my dress and panties as if they burned me. But while I did, I kept my eyes on his long, elegant fingers stroking the rope. He watched me as intently as I watched him and it seemed he touched my skin instead of the rope, or as if the rope and his hand already caressed me as they soon would. I was damp and pleasantly flustered before he placed himself behind me.
A length of soft rope, cooler than the warm June air, passed over the bare skin of my belly. I sighed and leaned back against him. He was shirtless but still had jeans on, and the contrasting textures of denim and furred skin, along with the texture of the rope, pushed away the day’s petty concerns. “We’re trying something new tonight,” he purred in my ear.
“Tell me more.” We were new enough together that we were still marking off shared firsts: first spanking, first rope harness, first hypnosis, first sex with me fully tied up, first (laughable) attempt at role-play. But I sensed from a hint of nervous excitement in Michael’s voice that this would be a different sort of first, something neither of us had tried before.
Considering we came into the relationship with pasts that would make Nina Hartley proud, that was enough to make me both anxious and aroused.
Very aroused. What could he have in mind that would be new to both of us?
The rope brushed over my nipples, sending a shiver to my clit. “Just feel.” Michael’s voice dropped to a slow, seductive rumble, as close to Barry White as a white guy with a tenor voice could get. His hypnosis voice. I’d never thought of hypnosis as something sexy before Michael. But when he put me under, I could relax completely in a way that even my beloved rope couldn’t allow me. So far we’d mostly used it to help me sleep, but I’d adored the couple of times he’d turned me into a helpless—but very wet and willing—doll to be posed and played with.
I had no idea what Michael had in mind now, but if it involved hypnosis and rope, I planned to relax and find out. After I asked one more question. “So are you going to hypnotize me first, or…?”
The rope pulled back from my skin and Michael chuckled. “You never got past the toddler ‘why’ stage, did you? So many questions.”
“It’s why I’m a good engineer.”
“And why you can’t sleep at night, because you’re still asking the universe why at two in the morning. There’s no need to ask questions now. Just follow my voice, Diana. Follow and feel.”
The Barry White voice was back, and so was the rope, wrapping around my rib cage just under my breasts, guided by Michael’s strong hands. “Feel the rope. This first round anchors you so you can fly safely. Feel it hold you like I hold you.”
I did feel it, in a way I wouldn’t normally. I mean, I know part of the thrill of bondage was the paradoxical way restraint freed inhibitions. But following Michael’s voice, I was conscious of that sense of safety inside the edginess. Or maybe subconscious of it, like a deeper part of me was getting into the game even before wave after wave of sensation got my overly keen analytical brain to shut the fuck up.
“I’m going to put you in a chest harness and rope corset. And each time the rope wraps around your body, your busy mind is going to get quieter and you’ll slip farther into hypnosis.” He passed the rope around my rib cage again, snugging it in the back with a twist or knot that I couldn’t be bothered to try to figure out, though I usually agonized over exactly what he was doing when I couldn’t see him. Not because I thought I’d ever need to duplicate it, but because it bothered me not to know how things worked. This time, though, I could just enjoy the rope. I sighed at the way it touched and held me, at the way Michael’s hands traced the rope’s path on my skin. My muscles relaxed and I took a deep breath in just before Michael said, “Now take a deep breath in…and when you let it out, send your worries and concerns with it.”
I hadn’t thought I was worried about anything, precisely, just ruminating now and then over the prototype sitting in my lab at work.
But when I let that breath out, tension fled that I hadn’t known
I was holding. I hadn’t realized that deep down I felt like I should be working on that prototype instead of playing with Michael, even though it was Saturday night and I’d worked until three that afternoon.
But what if I had an idea and I was tied up and half out of my mind?
He wrapped the rope again, this time above my breasts. “Feel the rope taking control of your body, Diana. Feel it taking control of your mind. All your wonderful ideas will still be there when you come back. They’ll even be clearer because you’ve given them a chance to rest and grow.”
For a guy I’d known only a few months, Michael understood me too damn well. Then again, he was a scientist himself, so he got how I’d become trapped in a quest for answers.
“But what if…?”
He laid one long-fingered hand over my lips. The hand still held a rope end, and the length of rope brushing my torso as he moved his hand silenced me as if it had brushed the question away. “If something that might be important pops into your head, imagine it being saved to a file for later, and the file is getting backed up in the cloud so you can access it wherever you are. Just let those thoughts be saved in your backup file while you enjoy the moment.” I nodded slowly. The metaphor worked for me, better than the more abstract ones he’d tried during other hypnosis sessions.
“Good girl. Feel the rope. As the rope touches you, you’ll let go a little more.” He continued to wrap me as he spoke. “Feel the rope. Feel my hands. Feel them pushing the nagging thoughts out of your brain and pushing anything you might need later into a file for safekeeping.” His deep, low voice compelled me, and the rope moving over my skin soothed me. “You’ll slip deeper into hypnosis, deeper into pleasure, whenever more rope touches you.” As he brought the rope over one shoulder and between my breasts, drawing the two bands of rope together, I stopped trying to track what he was doing. Normally I’d have a mental soundtrack of Now he’s doing X, but instead I let myself sink into the soothing sensation of rope and hands on my skin.