He had found her attractive from the first moment they had met. She
had rebuffed his advances, telling him she liked him as a friend. She
teased continuously, always standing so close to him he could smell
her perfume and her natural scent, but still pushing him away if he
tried to touch her.
She had immediately recognised how attracted to her he was, and took
advantage of this. She encouraged him, and discouraged him at the
same time. She asked him to drive her home after work, invited him in
for coffee, but always invented some reason she needed him to leave as
soon as he started to look too comfortable. Today was no different to
start with. He drove her home, came in for coffee, listened while she
told him about her former boyfriends. He tried to give sensible,
unbiased answers when she asked him for advice about love and sex,
trying to be the friend she had always told him he was and not the
lover he wanted to be.
“I’ve always wanted,” she told him, “To tie up my boyfriend. But I’m
scared I’ll scare him off.”
He struggled to answer this one.
“Look,” she said, “I’ll show you.” Jumping up, she headed to the
door.
“Come on,” she said impatiently, “You want to see this, don’t you?”
Startled, he let her lead him upstairs to her bedroom where he stood
awkwardly as she rummaged in a drawer and produced some short pieces
of cord.
“These would do,” she said brightly, indicating the large
brass-framed bed.
“I suppose they would.” He hardly knew what to say.
She dangled the short pieces of cord in front of his face. “Gonna let
me tie you up then?” she asked, jokingly, but with a wicked grin.
“You’ll crease my shirt,” he replied, although he was excited by the
idea.
“Take it off.” She almost ordered him, excited herself at the
thought of it.
In a daze he removed his shirt. He let her push him onto the bed and
loop the cord around one of his wrists. She tightened it, and
threaded the other end round the bedframe, tying that too in a quick
knot. She repeated the procedure with his other wrist, leaving him
lying there, arms outstretched.
She stood up and looked at him. “Uncomfortable?” she asked.
“No, not really,” he tried to keep his voice as normal as if they
were still drinking coffee downstairs.
“So,” she went on, playing the same game, “If I did it to my
boyfriend then you think he’d enjoy it?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“So,” she persisted, “You’re enjoying it?”
She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes now fixed on the growing
bulge in his trousers. He nodded again.
“And once I’ve got him like this,” she rested one hand on his stomach
and slid it down to his belt buckle, “I could take off the rest of his
clothes and have him completely naked?”
“Yes,” he croaked, having great difficulty in getting out even one
word. Her hands were busy with the buckle and the zip on his
trousers.
“Hey.....,” he started to complain as he felt both his trousers and
pants being pulled downwards.
She stopped.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.”
In one swift pull she had wrenched the remaining clothing downwards,
over his ankles and feet, and off onto the floor. He was left
completely naked and feeling rather exposed. He was uncomfortably
aware of his erection now standing stiff and upright with nothing to
cover it.
As though talking to herself, she continued, “And once he’s naked, I
could tie his ankles as well.”
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