Tales Of The Rope

$5.95

Categories: ,

Description

by John Savage

Fourteen short stories of the wonderful world of bondage, sadism, pain and helplessness from the twisted imagination of John Savage.

A young girl is stripped naked and bound in a deserted, haunted house at midnight, and a captured English Lady is sentenced by a bloodthirsty pirate to a horrible death buried in the sand up to her neck. Read of two men who have a beautiful woman knock on their doors and beg them to bind her tightly and gag her, but with different results for each. See what happens when a barbarian kidnaps a princess and rides off with her intended husband in hot pursuit.

As you would expect from this accomplished storyteller of B&D, there are lots of tight ropes cutting into soft, feminine flesh, and cries of pain echoing off basement walls…

Published: 3 / 2010            No. words: 46,200EX1t

“Have you ever been tied up before?” he asked as he reached for a long piece of rope.

“No,” she replied. “But I’ve always dreamed of how wonderful it would be to be tied hand and foot and totally helpless.” He put a loop around her waist, the post, and her wrists, and then pulled it tight. More turns around the post and her wrists were locked against the wood with ropes cutting deeply into her stomach. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “You really can tie tightly.

“Well,” she went on, “I asked a couple of the men I dated if they would tie me, but half of them didn’t want to and the other half couldn’t do a good job. I mean, the ropes were loose and I could get out easily.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” He wasn’t really concentrating on her words but on that wonderful body. Another long length of clothesline was being wrapped around her chest, arms and the post. Most people would have thought the ropes were going on far too tight, but Monique seemed delighted rather than upset as strand after strand of clothesline was embedded into her lovely curves. Soon her body was welded to the wood with numerous very tight ropes above and below the breasts, and around her waist.

“I decided that I would have to find someone who really knew how to tie,” she continued. “Then I found those bondage magazines and was delighted. Here were girls really and truly tied. But all of them lacked that final touch, that extra tightness that would make them feel and be totally helpless.” She was definitely breathing harder now, despite the constriction of her waist. “And I read your letter. I knew that if this man had really tied girls as you said you did, this was the man I had to have tie me.”

Gary selected another coil and knelt to pick up one ankle and slip the shoe off. The loop went around that ankle and then up to the crossed wrists. With effort, he passed the rope between her forearms and the wood then back down to the other side. He pulled, and her snared ankle went up behind the post, up until the bottom of her foot was pointed towards the ceiling and her fingers were touching it. Then he brought the rope down and around the ankle again. Several times he repeated that until her left ankle was lashed tightly just below her wrists. Binding another rope around her right ankle, he passed that between the wood and her arms and began pulling her other leg up and behind.

Monique grunted as her weight shifted from the supporting leg to the ropes about her body. But they had been tied so tightly that her body slid downward only a fraction of an inch. Soon, her other foot was bound within touch of her fingers.

“I… I knew you were the man I wanted to teach me.” Her breathing was much harder now, both from the constrictions about her chest and the excitement that was evident in her eyes. “I want to experience the tightest, strictest, most escape proof bondage possible. Ohhhhh. That’s nice!” she said as he jerked a rope tight. “You are the one.” Her cries were of pleasure not pain.

“I’m not finished yet,” said Gary, firmly in command and beginning to enjoy this. Her ankles were tied towards her wrists but she could wiggle her feet an inch back and forth. He then took more rope and wrapped loops of it around her ankles and the post with the rope passing over her thighs. Soon her legs were pressed as tightly to the wood as were her feet, eliminating that tiny play.

“Ohhhhh, Gary!” Monique was definitely panting now, tiny tremors dancing along her muscles as she hung against the wood, well off the floor. Studying his captive figure, Gary came to the conclusion that she could move her head and wiggle her fingers. Nothing else.

“I never believed it could be this intense,” she panted. “So incredible, my dear.”

“I’m not finished yet,” he repeated with delight in his voice.

Her wrists were crossed with the palms outward, and along the back of each hand there ran several lengths of rope that held her ankles up. Gary took a roll of gray duct tape from the workbench and cut off a length. This he used to tape her thumb to the ropes. Then he taped her fingers to the ropes. When finished, both her hands looked as if she were wearing mittens, very tight mittens. All her fingers were lashed to the ropes so that she couldn’t move even the tips of them.

“Oh, my gosh! I can’t move my fingers,” she told him as if he didn’t know.

“I’m not finished yet,” he informed her with positively fiendish glee.

A clean washrag from the bathroom was rolled up and inserted into her mouth. As the gag neared her face and realization of what was about to happen registered in her eyes, Monique sighed with pleasure and managed a meek “Thank You,” before the wad pressed her tongue down and silenced her. Lots of duct tape wrapped very tightly around her head and the post insured that the gag would not come out.

Her eyes were fixed on his and shivers were racing along her body. Her breathing was heavy and a flush was spreading over her face and breasts.

Taking the duct tape, Gary wrapped four turns of tape around her head and the post at the level of her forehead. Then he added more wrappings of the tape until only her nose and a small slit for her eyes were the only parts of her head showing. And Monique’s head was locked firmly to the post.

Stepping back, he surveyed his handiwork. There was little she could move. Her fingers were secured within a cocoon of tape and could not move. Her body and limbs were completely bound with her weight providing the pressure that held most of the ropes tight. He watched the slight movement of her breasts as she breathed. They were beautiful and stood straight out from the captured body as if demanding attention. Perhaps they would get some. He noted and smiled at the way the ropes dug into her flesh and the fine muscle tone of this lovely woman.

Stepping closer again, he could see tiny tremors in her muscles and smell the sexual excitement of her body. Her eyes were closed and very soft moans were escaping through her nose.

He lightly touched one nipple, and she gasped as if it had been an electrical shock. Then he took one heavy breast in his hand and squeezed, lightly at first then harder. She moaned and he had the impression she was trying to thrust her breast against his hand. It was hard to tell because her body was so tightly bound to the post.

Lightly he ran the tips of his fingers down her sides to the ropes embedded in her tummy. She shivered. He traced the skin around the ropes for a minute then trailed his fingertips down her flanks. Her thighs tensed and trembled. He was sure she would have been thrusting her pussy forward if the ropes allowed her. Even with it lashed to the post, she seemed to be straining forward.

All this time her eyes remained tightly closed.

Gary ached with desire as he touched that perfect body held so conveniently helpless for him. An ache filled his body as he was sure it filled hers. He stroked her arms and ankles, letting her feel both his touch and the ropes. He tickled the upturned bottoms of her feet and watched her pitiful attempts at struggles. Finally he could tease her no more.

“Are you having fun?” Gary asked casually. “Blink twice if you are. Blink three times if you want to be untied.”

Two blinks.

“Would you like intercourse?” Two very definite blinks. Then a moan of frustration and pleasure.