As I finish up 'The Bounding Main', I thought I would share a little of my philosophy on writing, at least talk about what things are important to me when I write.
One of the first things I consider important is setting. It isn't enough for me to be introduced to the characters, I also want to place those characters on a stage; give them somewhere to interact. When I first started writing I found that I was focused on the characters and the acts they were doing. I described techniques but not placing them in a context of where they were at. I have found that, for me, describing the place is as important as the character or the acts.
'The Gift' is a story I started with a setting, a very snowy day in the Midwest. I started by describing the scene and the story flowed from there. In stories such a 'The Masque' and 'A New Haunt', setting is absolutely essential to the plot, without the setting the story would be as vacant as the Arctic.
I try to view what is going on in the story as if I am a camera lens. If I don't describe it how will others see it in their mind's eye?
Take care and look for 'The Bounding Main' sometime in the next week or two.
T.S.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 30, 2009
An End To The Challenge. . .
I want to first thank all of you that have posted. It is nice to hear from readers and what they like and what they want to see continue. I encourage all of you to continue posting comments about story plots and what you would like to see and what you didn't care for. Criticism is welcome as well.
A few of you mentioned 'A Work Of Art'. Simmering on the back burner is the second part to the story. The problem is that I have about six possible endings to the story and have had trouble deciding which to go with. I have played with the idea of posting all of the possible endings here and on Gromet's website and letting the readers decide which ending they like best. Is that something you would like to see?
The next completed story will be 'Bounding Main' and will feature a pair of characters first introduced in the story 'Away In The Manger.' The outline is also completed for Chapter 19 of 'Summer Project' and the first stages of the second 'book' are starting to take form.
It is sort of odd that my favorite storyline has not made it into anyone's comments. 'On French Soil' captures quite a bit of what I strive for in a storyline. I hope the second 'book' for 'Summer Project' will do the same.
Please do not stop the comments from coming. They are valuable in determining what direction my writings take.
Take care
T.S.
A few of you mentioned 'A Work Of Art'. Simmering on the back burner is the second part to the story. The problem is that I have about six possible endings to the story and have had trouble deciding which to go with. I have played with the idea of posting all of the possible endings here and on Gromet's website and letting the readers decide which ending they like best. Is that something you would like to see?
The next completed story will be 'Bounding Main' and will feature a pair of characters first introduced in the story 'Away In The Manger.' The outline is also completed for Chapter 19 of 'Summer Project' and the first stages of the second 'book' are starting to take form.
It is sort of odd that my favorite storyline has not made it into anyone's comments. 'On French Soil' captures quite a bit of what I strive for in a storyline. I hope the second 'book' for 'Summer Project' will do the same.
Please do not stop the comments from coming. They are valuable in determining what direction my writings take.
Take care
T.S.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Creation Challenge
It has been a short time since I last talked about comments and since then,very few of you have actually responded. I can tell from the counter many of you have visited the blog and have read my views and stories and news about up coming chapters. I am currently working on chapter 19 of 'Summer Project', a story of a Vampire, a bondage/sailing tale and the sequel to 'Maid Service Requested'. All of these I have worked on in the last week. So here's the deal. I will be stopping work on all of these plus others until I get at least 20 comments from new people. I know it sounds like an NPR donation drive but part of why I created this blog is to have a little interaction from it's readers. So take the consensual vs. non-consensual survey ( September 2008), post your thoughts on how ludicrous this post really is or tell me where you would like to see your favorite story to go. I hope to hear from you soon so I can get started again on some stories.
T.S.
T.S.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
In The Mind Of Fesseln part B
Some of you may wonder if I do any of the things posted in my stories and the answer to that question is yes. Without going into great detail, the women I have been blessed to share that part of my life with all enjoyed some aspect or all aspects of it. Some of the scenes written in my stories reflect those experiences and rememberances.
Bondage has been part of my sexual life since I began having one in college (yes, I was a late starter). I have always took the safe and sane route because a willing partner is too precious to injure. Trust is the key that allows you to lock that lock.
Some aspects I have asked about from others either in the business or participants of acts that I have no desire to preform. This gives me an idea of how people feel in scenes that I write that I have not experienced myself with a loving partner.
As to stories, I am currently working on the sequel to 'Maid Service Requested' and should be completed in the next couple of weeks. As always, please feel free to leave your comments.
Take care
T.S.
Bondage has been part of my sexual life since I began having one in college (yes, I was a late starter). I have always took the safe and sane route because a willing partner is too precious to injure. Trust is the key that allows you to lock that lock.
Some aspects I have asked about from others either in the business or participants of acts that I have no desire to preform. This gives me an idea of how people feel in scenes that I write that I have not experienced myself with a loving partner.
As to stories, I am currently working on the sequel to 'Maid Service Requested' and should be completed in the next couple of weeks. As always, please feel free to leave your comments.
Take care
T.S.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Chapter 18 of Summer Project posted
The latest chapter of 'Summer Project' is currently en route to various websites for posting. If you cannot find it, please let me know and I will direct you where you can find it.
T.S.
T.S.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
'Summer Project Chapter 18'
Chapter 18 of 'Summer Project' is completed and now is being proofread by someone other than myself. As soon as it is sent back to me, I will post it to various sites. Hopefully this will be posted before the weekend. Now to go and get a few household chores done.
T.S.
T.S.
Monday, May 11, 2009
In The Mind Of Fesseln Part A
A few of you have written me about how I write. I figured I would let you glance into the warped and jellified brain of T.S. and how I go about the writing process in a series of little blogs. Todays lesson is coming up with an idea.
Most of my ideas start with the title for the story. Very rarely do I start a piece without coming up with a title. In fact, my computer is filled with partially completed stories that have a working title and a few paragraphs attached to it. 'Walking The Line' is just such a story. It came to me when listening to that old Johnny Cash song and putting a perverted twist on it.
Longer stories, like 'Summer Project', the concept just sort of came to me. I knew where I wanted the story to go and the points I had to get to to get it there. So nestled in this computer of mine is a general outline of the story.
Some stories I start don't seem to go anywhere and grind to a halt. I know what I want to do but the concept just slows to a mere trickle. Those I keep on the back burner and I will revisit them from time to time. When looking at my list of stories:Fesseln's Fiction: August 2008, you see a few titles as 'In Progress'. These stories have more than a few pages written and I hope to complete them in the near future.
A few stories are for people that have sent in their ideas or have a desire for me to write a story for them. 'Seperate Vacation' and 'Cherry On Top' are two such stories that have come to be this way. There are several stories I have written for others that I have not published for various reasons but may reveal themselves later, with the names changed to protect the guilty.
For you 'Summer Project' fans, another chapter is nearing completion and I hope to have it completed soon.
As always, feel free to leave comments.
T.S.
Most of my ideas start with the title for the story. Very rarely do I start a piece without coming up with a title. In fact, my computer is filled with partially completed stories that have a working title and a few paragraphs attached to it. 'Walking The Line' is just such a story. It came to me when listening to that old Johnny Cash song and putting a perverted twist on it.
Longer stories, like 'Summer Project', the concept just sort of came to me. I knew where I wanted the story to go and the points I had to get to to get it there. So nestled in this computer of mine is a general outline of the story.
Some stories I start don't seem to go anywhere and grind to a halt. I know what I want to do but the concept just slows to a mere trickle. Those I keep on the back burner and I will revisit them from time to time. When looking at my list of stories:Fesseln's Fiction: August 2008, you see a few titles as 'In Progress'. These stories have more than a few pages written and I hope to complete them in the near future.
A few stories are for people that have sent in their ideas or have a desire for me to write a story for them. 'Seperate Vacation' and 'Cherry On Top' are two such stories that have come to be this way. There are several stories I have written for others that I have not published for various reasons but may reveal themselves later, with the names changed to protect the guilty.
For you 'Summer Project' fans, another chapter is nearing completion and I hope to have it completed soon.
As always, feel free to leave comments.
T.S.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Comments on Comments
I don't usually get up on a soapbox like this, but I just wanted to say a few words about leaving comments to authors, whether it is for my own works or for someone else's. Nearly all of us who post stories on various forums are not getting paid for it. There is alot of time and effort put into these stories that are posted so the only compensation that we recieve is comments from our readers. I know I enjoy reading the opinions and suggestions of my readers. So please, take a moment and write something because the author on the other end will appreciate it.
T.S.
T.S.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Walking The Line
Sometimes a story just comes to you and you have to write it. 'Walking The Line' is just that kind of story. It has been quite some time since I last did a self-bondage piece, so writing it was sort of a refreshing breather. I have posted it here as well as sending it off to various websites. Please enjoy and give me any comments you wish.
WALKING THE LINE
T.S. FESSELN
Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depictions of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.
Even though Amber looked peaceful resting on her deck chair, she was anything but. The blonde felt as if every nerve inside of her was a live, sparking wire. She was planning another adventure tonight after the sun had set and the blues and purples of twilight had taken over her back yard. She had everything she needed in a canvas tote beside her; handcuffs, blindfold, leather straps, a black leather ball gag, nipple clamps, vibe, locks and a large ring of keys. Also coiled on top was a thirty-some-odd foot clothes line that she had prepared for this evening. She had checked everything several times and now all that was left to do was wait.
The weekend sounds of lawnmowers, laughing kids and bird chirps had slowly segued into the sounds of crickets and the hush of air conditioners trying to keep up with the June heat. Amber had on her neon pink bikini that left little to anyone’s imagination. She was proud of her tanned good looks and kept herself that way by exercising and eating right. Her body was an advantage she had used time and again at the office when pushing some project; that and her long, platinum blonde hair and hazel green eyes unnerved many a male counterpart. For the most part, men were really afraid of beautiful women and she counted herself one among those women.
With the last orange of the setting sun fading away, Amber knew it was time to get to work. She gathered up her bag and stepped down off of her wood deck. Her back yard was perfect for these little adventures of hers. A tall privacy fence surrounded her small back yard and several lilacs and mock-orange bushes help keep the space personal and private. The dark just made sure that her escapades remained her secret.
The wooden deck stood about three feet above the lush, freshly mowed grass and anchored on the corner was a sturdy eye-bolt. Amber pulled out the clothesline, threaded her ring of keys onto it and tightly knotted that end to the bolt. It wasn’t an ordinary clothesline, but one she a stippled with large wooden beads that she had hot-glued into place. The beads were placed randomly, some singly and others in clumps of two or three. There were also several that were not glued and slipped freely along parts of the cord. Carefully Amber uncoiled her beaded line until she reached the small shed at the corner of her yard.
Like the deck, the shed had a couple of eyebolts placed on it as well as a cam cleat that Amber had purchased from a marine supply store. One of the eye bolts was placed about the same height as the one on the deck. The other one was placed a couple of feet higher and the cleat was bolted between the two. Amber threaded the other end of the line up through the lower bolt to the upper bolt before bringing the line back down through the cleat. She didn’t tighten the line, however. She had to get herself prepared.
First thing was to strip out of her bikini and throw it into the shed, locking the sheds’ door with a padlock whose key lay on her kitchen counter. Her nude dress code was now enforced until she got out of tonight’s predicament. Amber enjoyed the feel of the warm air on her naked skin as she got out her ankle cuffs from the bag. Straddling the line with her back to the shed, she fastened the leather cuffs around each ankle and locked each to a small length of chain. Lifting the line up between her thighs, she held it there while she fastened a black leather strap above her knees tightly. Now Amber could only take very small steps.
The blonde enjoyed the warm erotic rush spreading through her as she tried to take a step or two. That was the best part of bondage; the helplessness. She buckled another strap around her waist and hooked the vibrator’s controls to it before easing the chrome vibrator inside herself. Slowly she pushed it inside until it filled her completely but Amber did not turn it on; not yet.
Carefully backing herself up to the shed, it was now time for Amber to pull the line taut. Pulling the line down through the cleat, the line began to become a tight as a bowstring as it passed between her legs, forcing the vibrator deeper insider of her. It was a tight as she dared to make it as it cleaved between her swollen lips and pressed against her clit.
Quickly Amber got out her nipple clamps and fastened each onto herself, producing a delicious feeling of near pain as the jaws pinched down on each nipple. She could feel the small ripples of pleasure starting to wash over her and she hadn’t even turned on the vibe yet. She moaned involuntarily as she relished the feeling before going on.
The gag was next. It was a pear shaped one of black leather that filled her mouth almost completely. It was also the one that seemed to silence her the most. Amber was afraid of trying out one of the pump gags so this was the second best way of suppressing her moans. The tangy taste of the leather filled her mouth as she buckled the gag tightly then locked its small padlock behind her head.
The leather handcuffs were next and Amber quickly buckled each around her wrists. Each one had it own little lock and she clicked each one shut. The last thing she would do is to lock each of them together behind her back with a stout padlock. But she had a couple of other things to do first.
Her blindfold was made of leather as well and it was line with a soft wool. Amber found it was very effective and in the darkness of the night, she may have well been blind. It was really a shame that here was no way of locking it as well, but soon she would be helpless to take it off and that was almost as good.
Amber found the buttons to her vibe and turned it on a low pulse, sending wave after warm wave of pleasure coursing through her. Quickly she put her hands behind her back and with a click of a padlock, she was now helpless.
The blonde wriggled a bit to make sure everything was as tight as she could make it. The pulse of the vibe within her and the cord pressing against her sex fueled her libido as she let the delicious feeling of helplessness wash over her. It was this feeling, that she was no longer in charge of her body that made bondage her sex act of choice. Amber had had a few lovers that tried to tie her the way she wanted but they all failed in making her truly defenseless so she had to find her own way of getting that feeling; thus her descent into self bondage with the aid of several websites that she had found on the subject.
A warm rush of bliss swirled through her and she brought herself back to the task at hand. She would slowly make her way up the beaded rope to the keys to her release. She would then maneuver the ring of keys back down to the shed where she would loosen the line and unlock herself from her slavery and hopefully she would have an orgasm or two along the way.
Inch by inch she made her way down the line blindly. It was decadently slow with every little movement rubbing against her sex and sending more ripples of bliss through her.
Then her clit brushed up against one of the beads. An electric shock of pure pleasure ripped through her as she forced herself over the large bead, almost sending her over the edge. But Amber pushed ahead slowly after drinking in the moment.
Bead after bead sent more bolts of passion through her as she slowly made her way to her deck until about half way she had to lock her knees as a wave of rapture engulfed her in her first small orgasm. She didn’t know how long she stood there but the sound of her neighbors next door playing with their dog brought her out of her self-imposed revelries and back to the matter at hand.
Amber was glad she had gagged herself because otherwise she was sure that Amy and Mike would have heard her. From the sounds of it, Mike was throwing that glow-in-the-dark Frisbee to his dog, Boone, a golden retriever that yelped happily as he caught each throw. They were way too busy with their game to pay attention to her and hers.
Foot by foot, Amber slowly made her way forward. The few sliding beads made the journey that much more interesting since she would just push them along until they hit a glued one and she had to force herself up over both with her pleasure-ached pussy. Finally, after what seemed hours, she could feel the cold keys against her bound thighs.
In her mind, she pictured lifting herself up with her toes and working the ring of keys back until they were in back of her. However, it was much tougher and Amber found herself sweating from her effort and frustration. Finally, she managed to get it accomplished but she was now exhausted from the effort and she still had to make her way all the back to the shed.
Grasping the large key-ring in her hand, she slowly backed her way down the line. Each bead pushed against her anus as she eased herself over each. Even though she was horny as hell and so mush wanted to cum, she knew that she would collapse on the lawn if she did and getting back up would be a nightmare. She Amber focused and continued on.
Then she heard the crash of the bushes.
“Hold on, Boone, I’ll get it down for you,” she heard Mike tell his retriever.
The Frisbee must have landed in the top of one of her bushes. Amber froze and listened as she heard some scrambling against her fence and the rustle of some branches.
“Here boy, go get it!”
Amber let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t seen her but the incident made her fires burn that much hotter and she could feel another orgasm swelling inside her until she couldn’t suppress it any long. Clutching the line with dear life, she let the white hot rapture engulf her as she moaned and bucked what little she could in her bondage, leaving her drained and barely standing.
“Mike told me what he saw out here but I had to take a look for myself,” Amy said.
Ice-water shock flooded through Amber as she stood there, frozen.
“I can see that you are enjoying yourself,” Amy continued in her slight southern accent, “and I took a couple of photos just so we can remember it together.”
Amber could just see her neighbor Amy standing there with her camera. She was a short little brunette with the kind of girl-next-door good looks that men wanted to marry.
“Don’t worry, Mike is still next door. You got him all hot and bothered and I am sure that I’ll get some when I get home; but I am curious, do these hurt?”
Amber felt Amy flick her nipple clamps, sending another shower of pleasure through her. She moaned into her gag.
Amy laughed, “I see. Well, I never expected you would be into something like this. I always envisioned you the tigress on the hunt. But neighbors do surprise you sometimes, don’t they?”
The bound woman found herself blushing and wishing that she could be anywhere but there. Then she felt Amy grab the keys and wrench them from her grasp.
“I think I will take these,” Amy said of the protests of the bound woman in front of her, “And when you work yourself out of this, feel free to hop over to our place and we’ll give them back to you. . .maybe.”
Amber felt the Amy working the key-ring off of the line. Amber knew it was one of the split rings so Amy didn’t have to undo the line in order to get them off. Amber was still mewling her protests as Amy pulled off her blindfold.
“Now, I don’t want you to hurt yourself getting over to our place, hon. I don’t want you to bruise that pretty little bod of yours, at least not yet. We’ll leave the front porch light off and make sure that your house is nice and locked-up tight for the night. Good thing you left a spare key with us now isn’t it?”
Amy petted the bound blonde on the head while looking into her green eyes.
“Now, you hurry on up. Like I said, Mike is hot-and-bothered so I don’t know how long I can keep his hands off of me and we like to make sure we don’t get disturbed when we’re together, you know. So you best get started and we hope to see you soon.”
With a little wave, Amy walked away, swinging the keys on her index finger and whistling some familiar tune.
Amber pondered a bit then, defeated, then started to move down the line. Tonight’s adventure was far more than she had bartered for.
And for that, she was glad.
WALKING THE LINE
T.S. FESSELN
Disclaimer: This is a work of amatory fantasy. Any resemblance to people living or dead is purely coincidental. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading here. If you are a bit squeamish about graphic depictions of sex and bondage, please stop reading here. The author takes no responsibility for those who wish to reenact anything written below.
Even though Amber looked peaceful resting on her deck chair, she was anything but. The blonde felt as if every nerve inside of her was a live, sparking wire. She was planning another adventure tonight after the sun had set and the blues and purples of twilight had taken over her back yard. She had everything she needed in a canvas tote beside her; handcuffs, blindfold, leather straps, a black leather ball gag, nipple clamps, vibe, locks and a large ring of keys. Also coiled on top was a thirty-some-odd foot clothes line that she had prepared for this evening. She had checked everything several times and now all that was left to do was wait.
The weekend sounds of lawnmowers, laughing kids and bird chirps had slowly segued into the sounds of crickets and the hush of air conditioners trying to keep up with the June heat. Amber had on her neon pink bikini that left little to anyone’s imagination. She was proud of her tanned good looks and kept herself that way by exercising and eating right. Her body was an advantage she had used time and again at the office when pushing some project; that and her long, platinum blonde hair and hazel green eyes unnerved many a male counterpart. For the most part, men were really afraid of beautiful women and she counted herself one among those women.
With the last orange of the setting sun fading away, Amber knew it was time to get to work. She gathered up her bag and stepped down off of her wood deck. Her back yard was perfect for these little adventures of hers. A tall privacy fence surrounded her small back yard and several lilacs and mock-orange bushes help keep the space personal and private. The dark just made sure that her escapades remained her secret.
The wooden deck stood about three feet above the lush, freshly mowed grass and anchored on the corner was a sturdy eye-bolt. Amber pulled out the clothesline, threaded her ring of keys onto it and tightly knotted that end to the bolt. It wasn’t an ordinary clothesline, but one she a stippled with large wooden beads that she had hot-glued into place. The beads were placed randomly, some singly and others in clumps of two or three. There were also several that were not glued and slipped freely along parts of the cord. Carefully Amber uncoiled her beaded line until she reached the small shed at the corner of her yard.
Like the deck, the shed had a couple of eyebolts placed on it as well as a cam cleat that Amber had purchased from a marine supply store. One of the eye bolts was placed about the same height as the one on the deck. The other one was placed a couple of feet higher and the cleat was bolted between the two. Amber threaded the other end of the line up through the lower bolt to the upper bolt before bringing the line back down through the cleat. She didn’t tighten the line, however. She had to get herself prepared.
First thing was to strip out of her bikini and throw it into the shed, locking the sheds’ door with a padlock whose key lay on her kitchen counter. Her nude dress code was now enforced until she got out of tonight’s predicament. Amber enjoyed the feel of the warm air on her naked skin as she got out her ankle cuffs from the bag. Straddling the line with her back to the shed, she fastened the leather cuffs around each ankle and locked each to a small length of chain. Lifting the line up between her thighs, she held it there while she fastened a black leather strap above her knees tightly. Now Amber could only take very small steps.
The blonde enjoyed the warm erotic rush spreading through her as she tried to take a step or two. That was the best part of bondage; the helplessness. She buckled another strap around her waist and hooked the vibrator’s controls to it before easing the chrome vibrator inside herself. Slowly she pushed it inside until it filled her completely but Amber did not turn it on; not yet.
Carefully backing herself up to the shed, it was now time for Amber to pull the line taut. Pulling the line down through the cleat, the line began to become a tight as a bowstring as it passed between her legs, forcing the vibrator deeper insider of her. It was a tight as she dared to make it as it cleaved between her swollen lips and pressed against her clit.
Quickly Amber got out her nipple clamps and fastened each onto herself, producing a delicious feeling of near pain as the jaws pinched down on each nipple. She could feel the small ripples of pleasure starting to wash over her and she hadn’t even turned on the vibe yet. She moaned involuntarily as she relished the feeling before going on.
The gag was next. It was a pear shaped one of black leather that filled her mouth almost completely. It was also the one that seemed to silence her the most. Amber was afraid of trying out one of the pump gags so this was the second best way of suppressing her moans. The tangy taste of the leather filled her mouth as she buckled the gag tightly then locked its small padlock behind her head.
The leather handcuffs were next and Amber quickly buckled each around her wrists. Each one had it own little lock and she clicked each one shut. The last thing she would do is to lock each of them together behind her back with a stout padlock. But she had a couple of other things to do first.
Her blindfold was made of leather as well and it was line with a soft wool. Amber found it was very effective and in the darkness of the night, she may have well been blind. It was really a shame that here was no way of locking it as well, but soon she would be helpless to take it off and that was almost as good.
Amber found the buttons to her vibe and turned it on a low pulse, sending wave after warm wave of pleasure coursing through her. Quickly she put her hands behind her back and with a click of a padlock, she was now helpless.
The blonde wriggled a bit to make sure everything was as tight as she could make it. The pulse of the vibe within her and the cord pressing against her sex fueled her libido as she let the delicious feeling of helplessness wash over her. It was this feeling, that she was no longer in charge of her body that made bondage her sex act of choice. Amber had had a few lovers that tried to tie her the way she wanted but they all failed in making her truly defenseless so she had to find her own way of getting that feeling; thus her descent into self bondage with the aid of several websites that she had found on the subject.
A warm rush of bliss swirled through her and she brought herself back to the task at hand. She would slowly make her way up the beaded rope to the keys to her release. She would then maneuver the ring of keys back down to the shed where she would loosen the line and unlock herself from her slavery and hopefully she would have an orgasm or two along the way.
Inch by inch she made her way down the line blindly. It was decadently slow with every little movement rubbing against her sex and sending more ripples of bliss through her.
Then her clit brushed up against one of the beads. An electric shock of pure pleasure ripped through her as she forced herself over the large bead, almost sending her over the edge. But Amber pushed ahead slowly after drinking in the moment.
Bead after bead sent more bolts of passion through her as she slowly made her way to her deck until about half way she had to lock her knees as a wave of rapture engulfed her in her first small orgasm. She didn’t know how long she stood there but the sound of her neighbors next door playing with their dog brought her out of her self-imposed revelries and back to the matter at hand.
Amber was glad she had gagged herself because otherwise she was sure that Amy and Mike would have heard her. From the sounds of it, Mike was throwing that glow-in-the-dark Frisbee to his dog, Boone, a golden retriever that yelped happily as he caught each throw. They were way too busy with their game to pay attention to her and hers.
Foot by foot, Amber slowly made her way forward. The few sliding beads made the journey that much more interesting since she would just push them along until they hit a glued one and she had to force herself up over both with her pleasure-ached pussy. Finally, after what seemed hours, she could feel the cold keys against her bound thighs.
In her mind, she pictured lifting herself up with her toes and working the ring of keys back until they were in back of her. However, it was much tougher and Amber found herself sweating from her effort and frustration. Finally, she managed to get it accomplished but she was now exhausted from the effort and she still had to make her way all the back to the shed.
Grasping the large key-ring in her hand, she slowly backed her way down the line. Each bead pushed against her anus as she eased herself over each. Even though she was horny as hell and so mush wanted to cum, she knew that she would collapse on the lawn if she did and getting back up would be a nightmare. She Amber focused and continued on.
Then she heard the crash of the bushes.
“Hold on, Boone, I’ll get it down for you,” she heard Mike tell his retriever.
The Frisbee must have landed in the top of one of her bushes. Amber froze and listened as she heard some scrambling against her fence and the rustle of some branches.
“Here boy, go get it!”
Amber let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t seen her but the incident made her fires burn that much hotter and she could feel another orgasm swelling inside her until she couldn’t suppress it any long. Clutching the line with dear life, she let the white hot rapture engulf her as she moaned and bucked what little she could in her bondage, leaving her drained and barely standing.
“Mike told me what he saw out here but I had to take a look for myself,” Amy said.
Ice-water shock flooded through Amber as she stood there, frozen.
“I can see that you are enjoying yourself,” Amy continued in her slight southern accent, “and I took a couple of photos just so we can remember it together.”
Amber could just see her neighbor Amy standing there with her camera. She was a short little brunette with the kind of girl-next-door good looks that men wanted to marry.
“Don’t worry, Mike is still next door. You got him all hot and bothered and I am sure that I’ll get some when I get home; but I am curious, do these hurt?”
Amber felt Amy flick her nipple clamps, sending another shower of pleasure through her. She moaned into her gag.
Amy laughed, “I see. Well, I never expected you would be into something like this. I always envisioned you the tigress on the hunt. But neighbors do surprise you sometimes, don’t they?”
The bound woman found herself blushing and wishing that she could be anywhere but there. Then she felt Amy grab the keys and wrench them from her grasp.
“I think I will take these,” Amy said of the protests of the bound woman in front of her, “And when you work yourself out of this, feel free to hop over to our place and we’ll give them back to you. . .maybe.”
Amber felt the Amy working the key-ring off of the line. Amber knew it was one of the split rings so Amy didn’t have to undo the line in order to get them off. Amber was still mewling her protests as Amy pulled off her blindfold.
“Now, I don’t want you to hurt yourself getting over to our place, hon. I don’t want you to bruise that pretty little bod of yours, at least not yet. We’ll leave the front porch light off and make sure that your house is nice and locked-up tight for the night. Good thing you left a spare key with us now isn’t it?”
Amy petted the bound blonde on the head while looking into her green eyes.
“Now, you hurry on up. Like I said, Mike is hot-and-bothered so I don’t know how long I can keep his hands off of me and we like to make sure we don’t get disturbed when we’re together, you know. So you best get started and we hope to see you soon.”
With a little wave, Amy walked away, swinging the keys on her index finger and whistling some familiar tune.
Amber pondered a bit then, defeated, then started to move down the line. Tonight’s adventure was far more than she had bartered for.
And for that, she was glad.
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