Twisted: Bondage With an Edge

by Alison Tyler

  Suddenly her tied wrists were rising over her head. Dax was tying her to something overhead, probably a tree branch. She blushed at the way this position thrust out her breasts.

  “Now,” he said, circling her, “as your senior counselor, when I tell you to do something, you do something. Without question. Understand?”

  She nodded breathlessly. He moved her long hair over her shoulders. “Now,” he said. “I want you to tell me exactly what you were doing yesterday during sailing/swimming.”

  She gulped. “I...I was with Tim.”

  “Tim? That skinny kid?” The contempt was clear in his voice. “And what were you doing with Tim?”

  “I was...having sex.”

  “What kind of sex? I need a full confession. Start at the beginning.”

  Oh, god. Her pussy was so, so wet. All she wanted was for Dax to unzip her shorts and drive his thick cock inside her. It wouldn’t take long, just a few thrusts, before she would come squealing and throbbing. But she could tell she was going to have to earn her orgasm.

  “He...kissed me. And then he took off my top.”

  “Like this?” Dax unbuttoned her skimpy white camisole and roughly tugged it off, freeing her bare breasts. Never had they felt as full or hot or aching as they did right now. He cupped them, bouncing them in his hands. “And then what?”

  “I...let him play with my titties.” She could barely breathe as Dax stroked her nipples. “It felt really good.”

  “Keep going. Then what did he do?”

  Her cheeks burned hot. “He took off my shorts...and I stood on the bed and spread my legs while he licked my pussy.”

  “You little slut.” Dax sounded amused. “So that’s what you do with the junior counselors. Strip naked and let them use you. I bet you show your pussy to lots of guys, don’t you?”

  She nodded wordlessly. A moment later he was unbuttoning her shorts and sliding them down her legs. “Well. Let’s see what you’re showing every guy in camp.”

  She was naked now in the woods, naked and blindfolded and tied to a tree, her entire body on display. Dax opened her legs and felt her pussy, tickling her for just a moment before circling her and cupping her ass.

  He stepped away. She wanted to scream, beg him to keep touching her. “Then what?”

  “Then he tied me to the bed and...” She swallowed. “He fucked me.”

  “Really? You barely know Tim. You always let guys tie you up and fuck you?”

  One fingertip massaged her clit. Her body flushed with the embarrassing need to come. But the finger retreated.

  Goddamn him! Why was Dax being such a tease?

  “Well,” he said. His voice sounded more distant, as if he’d stepped back. “Now we know the story. Skipping out on sailing/ swimming to let some guy tie you up and fuck you. What do you think, Josh?”

  Josh? What the hell?

  “I think she’s a horny little slut,” drawled a Southern accent. Her nipples tingled. That was indeed Josh, the tall blond guy who coached the camp basketball tournaments.

  “I think she’s dying for our cocks,” said a deep voice. Whoa. She had no idea who he was, and her body went electric at the idea of being fucked by a faceless stranger.

  Dax lightly slapped her breasts. “Well,” he said. “I think I have an idea of punishment.”

  She held her breath. All three of them fucking her, taking advantage of her tied up and naked in the woods. It was everything she’d ever fantasized about.

  “And I think...scrubbing the dining hall floor every day ought to do it.”

  “No!” she begged. “Please, you can’t leave me like this!”

  “We can do whatever we want. But if you want a different punishment, you’d better beg for it right now.”

  “Fuck me,” she whispered. “All of you. Do whatever you want to me.”

  Dax, Josh and the mystery man didn’t say a word. She thought for a wild moment they’d walked off and left her. Then she heard a zipper, the muffled sounds of undressing. And what sounded like the rip of a condom wrapper.

  Strong arms gripped her waist and pulled her forward. That thrilling hardness pressed between her legs, followed by a snicker—yes, it was Dax, and he was amused at how wet she was. Before she had time to feel humiliated, his cock pushed into her, splitting her open and filling her pussy. She groaned with helpless gratitude.

  A low sound of appreciation came from the other guys. “Move to the side so I can watch her tits,” suggested the mystery man.

  Dax was gripping her ass now, mauling her body with rough hunger as he thrust in and out of her. He was grunting in time with his thrusts, driving into her with such energy that her bound wrists twisted wildly.

  His body slapped hers with the rhythmic ferocity of her dreams. She was so dizzy with lust that she didn’t hear the man moving behind her. His warm body pressed against her back, rubbing his hard dick on her ass.

  “I love a soft juicy ass,” he muttered in her ear. His teeth grazed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Then he parted her cheeks and stroked the tip of his cock between them, pressing gently against her asshole.

  Karenna moaned her invitation. She loved anal sex, but she’d never been double-penetrated before and now it seemed that she was about to enjoy two stiff cocks fucking her for the first time. The man behind her—she didn’t know if it was Josh or the mystery guy—worked his prick slowly into her asshole, barely moving as Dax rode her pussy with such force that he pushed her ass onto the other penis. Karenna bit her lip as the mystery man gradually lodged his shaft inside her. Being fucked by two men felt better than she’d ever imagined. A howl of pure joy escaped her, rising through the trees as the man behind her cupped her breasts.

  “Oh, fuck,” Dax breathed, humping her with strong, thorough thrusts. He went still, hissing between his teeth, and then withdrew from her with a sigh of satisfaction.

  The remaining man stepped up and fondled her pussy. “So wet,” he taunted. Yep, that was Josh. She could never face him at the basketball tournaments again, knowing how he would smirk at her. But he was pushing inside her, grunting with satisfaction, and all she cared about was getting fucked.

  Both men were riding her in a seesaw rhythm, using her body like a soft and voluptuous plaything. Her breasts ached and her muscles were taut with excitement. A camera clicked; the knowledge that they were going to share these pictures with the other senior counselors, that all of them would jerk off to her bound and naked body, filled her with almost searing arousal, and her pussy began squeezing in a white-hot orgasm, gushing around Josh’s cock.

  He laughed softly. “You love this,” he said mockingly. He pulled out of her and so did the mystery man behind her, and then all three of the guys were around her, fondling her pussy and playing with her breasts. She wasn’t sure who was, because someone else was pushing inside her cunt again, another man in her ass. She swallowed, grateful to be getting fucked again because her body was still humming with tension and she knew she needed to come a second time, maybe even a third. She couldn’t keep track of the cocks sliding in and out of her, the fingers squeezing her ass and groping her breasts. She was being fucked and bounced into a mindless, twisting vortex of animal pleasure. All too soon, a storm broke inside her, and she was coming again with a howl.

  “That’s right,” someone grunted. He pulled her against him and groaned, his own orgasm pulsing inside her.

  A sharp slice was followed by sudden freedom. They’d cut the rope from the tree. Her body slumped into someone’s arms and they laid her on the ground. She didn’t know if they were done with her, if more guys would arrive or if they had some new dastardly plan.

  Someone moved her bound wrists over her head then straddled her chest, playing with her tits. She waited for his voice, for some clue as to who it was, but he said nothing. Then he lightly slapped her mouth. She opened her lips and the salty taste of his cock filled her tongue. He groaned softly and began to fuck her mouth, riding her face in a steady r
hythm. She sucked him as best as she could, opening her legs in invitation to the other two. Someone knelt between her thighs, audibly rolling on a condom; the push of his cock followed a moment later. She twisted beneath the two men in mindless pleasure as they used her mouth and cunt.

  The man fucking her face suddenly stiffened and gasped, a creamy spurt of cum filling her tongue, and he climbed off. To her surprise, the other man pulled out of her as well. They moved her onto her knees, tied hands in front of her. She guessed from this position that they weren’t done with her mouth yet and sure enough, one of them stepped in front of her and thrust his erection into her mouth. She licked and sucked his cock as he played idly with her pussy. Goddammit. Were they really going to get her this excited without satisfying her? She wasn’t sure who had come and when, but she knew they would get tired eventually. Maybe they would put her on all fours and one of them could fuck her from behind. She wiggled her ass as a hint but they just laughed and then the man in her mouth was coming with a long sigh of satisfaction.

  She barely had time to swallow before another man replaced him. Something in the hard-muscled thickness of his body thrusting against her chest made her think it was Dax. His big cock filled her mouth and as she sucked his swollen crown, he reached between her legs and began to play with her, tickling her clit until she moaned. Excitement was rising higher in her like a hot flood. Dax groaned and pulled out of her mouth. She could hear him stroking his own cock as his fingers worked into her pussy, stroking her wetness in exactly the right spot. They came together, Dax shooting streams of warm cum all over her face as her own ejaculate streamed down her thighs.

  She fell onto her side, shaking and still bound. Then her hands were lifted and with another slice, the rope was cut.

  Finally. Her hands were shaking too hard to function properly at first but she pushed desperately at the blindfold, moving it from her eyes.

  They were gone. Like forest demons, they’d melted back into the dark woods. She was alone, covered in cum and sweat and dirt.

  Karenna caught her breath. She was almost too shaky to walk but she found her clothes, now damp with the evening dew, and then the path Dax had used to get here. She followed it down to the lake and slipped gratefully into the water, feeling clean and reborn. Surfacing, she looked up at the summer moon and listened to the noises of the night woods, unable to stop grinning.

  BE THERE WITH BELLS ON

  Joan Defers

  She kept her breath shallow, her movement fluid. Her hips swayed at half rate.

  “A little faster,” he murmured. “We don’t have all day.” She tried to ignore the impatient tapping of the crop against his knee.

  She glanced down at the clamps. He’d attached small weights to chains, and dainty silver bells dangled from the ends.

  She glided with the posture of a debutante fresh from charm school. She channeled ballerina. She was grace, poetry in motion, the stillness at the depths of a bodhisattva.

  She transcended.

  He wanted the glass dildo with blood-red and mint-green swirls, and he wanted her to retrieve it without producing even a single tinkle from those bells.

  She took a few more steps. Why did the bathroom have to be so far away?

  She bit her lip and blew out her tension slowly, relaxing her back muscles. Blood rushed to her pussy, and her thighs throbbed.

  Oh, why did this have to affect her this way? Her nipples in the clamps, the cold chain draped between them. That’s all it took to get her going anymore. She was easy, anymore. He was arrogant with it.

  Her ears burned.

  If she failed, so what?

  He’d take that crop to her. He’d tie her up.

  All things she enjoyed.

  Even if she lost, she won. No need for panic.

  She savored the challenge, giving in to an irrational need to prove to him that she was capable. The very act of demanding this useless, pointless task sent a jolt of excitement racing to her clit. The tightrope walk only made her ache with desire.

  She reached the doorway and paused.

  “Move it.”

  She stayed put another moment, feeling the weights sway.

  He could, he had the option, he just might use that damned cane.

  She hadn’t ruled it out.

  Of course, she hoped caning was reserved for a more egregious sin than the jaunty peal of a bell from a breast.

  But the option never left her consciousness. It always hung in the air.

  “I’m waiting,” he said. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She moved, even picked up the pace, ever so slightly. If only she had perfect little teacup tits, instead of her D-cup cliff. There was too much clearance, too much momentum.

  Of course, if they just lay on her belly, where was the risk? He wanted the damned things swinging, threatening her with failure.

  That was part of the fun.

  He’d sent a text that afternoon, ordering her to make preparations. She’d carefully cleaned her little collection of toys, and then laid them out on a towel, so they could dry in the bottom of her bathtub.

  And, he just had to have the Christmas dildo.

  She misstepped on the rug in front of her sink, froze and cringed, waiting for peal.

  The bells didn’t ring out, though. They just dangled, weights tugging just perceptibly once more. Her cunt tingled.

  She breathed again.

  Damn it.

  She released the tension in her shoulders, relaxed her abdomen and continued her journey.

  She breathed. She stepped.

  “Almost there,” he taunted, in that singsong tone he used to tease her. His tapping grew more urgent, the tempo increasing.

  She had a sudden impulse to just let the bells ring out. Rile him up. Wipe that smirk off his face for just a minute, and refuse him the satisfaction of her very best effort. He’d take her there, in the bathroom, where things weren’t so well lit or comfortable. Bad lighting, metallic echoes, all somewhat removed from whatever ridiculous notions he held about the romance of her overpriced apartment.

  No silk sheets. No antiques. No playing pretend at Lord of the Manor.

  She could ruin this nasty little game of his.

  She had, maybe, three steps to go. She was wet, loosened; she felt every last movement, as the clamps jiggled.

  She stopped at the bathtub’s rim, and looked back at him, her braid falling behind her right shoulder. He reclined on her chaise lounge, his boots carelessly propped upon her upholstery.

  Bastard. She’d paid sixty dollars a yard for that brocade.

  He motioned her on with the crop. “Go ahead.”

  She delayed a moment, ignoring the exasperation he faked, and looked him over.

  She leaned at the waist, spread her legs for him. This was the point. The swollen display that let him know he’d accomplished what he’d intended.

  She watched the bells sway on their chains, just a few inches from the floor of the porcelain tub.

  She picked up the dildo nestled in the powder-blue towel.

  She put her left hand on the edge of the tub.

  She grinned just a little and pushed back, just hard enough. The bells swung on their arc, and then crashed into the side of her tub.

  Jingle, jingle.

  She stayed where she was, bent over the tub, one hand on the side. She heard him rustle, stand, and she waited where she stood.

  She heard him move. He stood behind her but didn’t touch.

  She held her breath.

  She heard the belt buckle, the zipper. The whole mess hit the floor.

  The hands rough on her hip.

  He yanked her back and positioned himself against her slick folds, his cock hot and his patience betrayed, looking for the wet trap she’d set. He pulled on the chain, and she cried out in pain, desperate for something harsh.

  He found what he was looking for, filling her to the hilt, and she dropped the dildo with a clang
, bracing herself.

  He fucked her roughly, knocking one leg out from under her. She buckled into the bathtub.

  “You did that on purpose,” he growled.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  DEMICA

  Tahira Iqbal

  Tie me up.” Those three little words had come out of the blue; they had come breathlessly out of his mouth as he’d climaxed inside of me. I must have misheard...surely my lovely fiancé of just over six months wasn’t into anything...kinky. Then, with a quiet determination as he’d kissed me and ground his hips against mine as my orgasm disappeared within, he’d said it again, poised and with utter clarity. “Tie me up.”

  Now, one week later, I’m looking down at the card in my hand that John had slid over the breakfast table the next morning with a strong spark in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long while. I’d blamed my long working hours for the extinguishing of it. I guess I was wrong...the spark was from sharing a personal secret.

  I press the buzzer, the one marked with only a red star, and wait.

  “Yes?”

  “I have an appointment for two thirty; my name is Eve Nolan.”

  The door buzzes; I push it open.

  My eyes adjust to the interior after the brightness of the afternoon. I’m faced with a staircase in a stark white lobby; there’s nowhere to go but up. My sneakers stick to the polished wood floor until I hit the gleaming stone stairs. A door opens at the top.

  “Welcome, Miss Nolan.” says the smooth voice from the intercom, “Come in.”

  I shrug out of my jacket, the apprehension I’d been feeling during my journey to get here is raising my temperature significantly.

  “Let me take that,” she says with a smile.

  I look around; the space is glamour. Nothing but glamour. The floor-to-ceiling sash windows are shaded with layers of pure white voile that move softly in the breeze. The floor is brilliantly polished tile, covered in places with white fur rugs.