Gromet's PlazaMummification Stories

Lydia and Me 4

by Pleasewrap

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© Copyright 2005 - Pleasewrap - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; club; lingerie; stockings; bond; straps; armbinder; collar; harness; susp; tease; toys; climax; bdsm; crop; punish; cons/nc; X

story continues from part three

Chapter Four - Recollections

Things had settled down a bit for Lydia and I after our passionate reunion, which was to be expected. We made love like rabbits for a few days, sometimes bound, sometimes not, and spent the days I’d taken off catching up on old times and finding out what we’d both been up to in detail. She’d taken a hotel room when she first arrived, which we quickly checked her out of. There was no doubt that she’d be living with me and no way I was about to let us be apart right now. 

As she got settled and we started talking more and making love a bit less, I asked her about something that had been bothering me since the first night and day we’d been together again. 

“Lydia, you’ve always been one of the most ‘together’ people I’ve ever known. Why was it so easy for you to burst into tears whenever the issue of finding me seemed to come up?” 

She’d gotten quiet then, obviously a bit uncomfortable with the question and trying to formulate a response that made sense. She looked away briefly and seemed about ready to cry again and I suddenly felt bad at pushing a subject that I knew upset her. But she’d taken a deep breath and looked back at me. 

“I told you it was a bad period for me, Ray. I had a very bad experience in another relationship and I wasn’t sure I could trust anyone to tie me up again even though I loved the feel of it.” 

That’s when the story had spilled out. Her company usually gave employees at least three months notice before they intended to transfer them to another project and location. She’d been living in Germany when the news that she’d be going to Australia arrived, and she was more than a bit sorry to receive the news. She’d enjoyed Europe immensely and managed to improve the French she’d learned in college and pick up a bit of German. Plus, Europe had a fairly active fetish scene that she could covertly enter and exit as she saw fit, which allowed her to indulge herself occasionally without having to risk too much exposure. 

Or so she thought. After receiving the news of the transfer and realizing that as a single woman who’s skills matched the project requirements perfectly she’d have a difficult time changing the assignment, she’d decided it was time for another dose of fetish. A photographer she liked was showing some new works at a local club and there was bound to be even more “eye candy” walking around in the audience. Even though she wasn’t involved with anyone or seeking sex herself, she wanted the release that a bit of fantasy could bring. So she’d set off to the club like she had probably a dozen times before without expecting anything too interesting to happen. 

She’d been there about an hour and had drunk a bit too much a bit too quickly (a feeling I can sympathize with) when she heard someone say “Lydia? Is that you?” She turned her head as though just looking around, not really wanting to acknowledge that it was, and that’s when she saw him. One of her boss’s peers was walking towards her from the bar, drink in hand and smile across his face. She’d worked with him a few times over the course of the project she was on, as her firm had multiple engagements running simultaneously with this particular client and there was some cross-over between them. He was intelligent, professional, polite, and handsome. He could also sell ice cubes to Eskimos if he wanted to, a skill that was pretty much a requirement to hit the partner level. 

She was somewhat relieved when she recognized him. A man in his position at this type of a gathering might be on the make, but he didn’t seem likely to try to take advantage of her presence her either personally or professionally. She’d said hello and they’d turn their attention to the picture she’d been examining. 

It was of a woman in the process of being bound. Straps circled her legs at the ankles and just above and below the knees. The sheen made it obvious they were latex or a similar material, and the slight dimpling of the skin made it clear that they were quite tight. That had bothered Lydia until closer examination showed that there was some type of padding at the joints themselves. The photographer was also into the sensuality of bondage and wasn’t about to represent the act itself as painful even if other photos delved into whipping and spanking. A harness of some form was also fastened about the woman’s torso with a large strap passing over her vagina. While it was fastened tightly, you could make out a slight bulge at a critical point and just barely see a wire before it was blocked by her legs. 

But it was the way her arms were being trapped that had intrigued Lydia. A single-glove was being tightened at the woman’s neck, which was craned back in an obvious expression of pleasure. The woman who was doing the binding was focused on her work and seemed oblivious to her captive’s reactions (which probably would have turned Lydia on as much as it would me – we both liked the “active ignoring” that bondage sometimes called for), and the photo caught her looking at the implements of erotic torture on the table beside her. The photo seemed to capture the utter abandon of being bound with the almost careless playfulness that doing the binding can engender. 

Eric (the guy who’d recognized her) stood next to her and asked, “You like this one?” 

She’d nodded and smiled, saying that she could imagine being either woman, though she wasn’t sure she’d ever have a female playmate. Lydia’s tastes were purely heterosexual, though the occasional all-woman fantasy crossed her mind. The photo facing her could lead to those types of fantasies, she also admitted. 

He’d smiled and gestured towards the single-glove. “Ever tried one of those?” 

She’d shook her head and told him that her bondage experiences had been limited to rope and wrap. She didn’t want to explain the presence of such items to customs and hadn’t hooked up with anyone who’d made a real investment in toys. 

“Really? Want to see what it’s like?” he’d asked with a broad grin. 

She’d paused as she told the story here and I forced myself to remain quiet. It was obvious that there was something coming that she didn’t like. 

“He reminded me a lot of you, Ray. Smart, funny, engaging, adventurous – he seemed to be you with an MBA and twenty years of experience. I was so lonely I let that image seduce me.” 

She’d gone to the refrigerator then, reaching above it to find the gin. As she opened the fridge to get the tonic, I’d gone to get glasses and ice. She made the drinks as she continued. 

“Worse, I’d let that image and the alcohol make me careless. I’d stared at him for a moment, then told him I’d love to try it. He’d made a grand gesture towards the door with his hand, and we’d left for his apartment.” 

She paused to take a drink and the we headed for the sofa. 

“Things seemed to blur for me, then,” she continued. “I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and my last two relationships didn’t last long or involve bondage. So when he brought up limits, I’d said ‘I’m open to just about anything that’s not too painful.’ I’d let it go with that, and that was a mistake.” 

Eric had led her to his living room, which she noticed had quite a bit of open space and strategically placed hanging plants. He’d prepared her another drink and asked her to sit down while he prepared things. He put on some classical music and proceeded to remove three of the plants from their hangers and put them out of the way. “The rings they hang from connect to the studs with particularly strong bolts,” he said. “Perfect for achieving a variety of positions.” 

Lydia was entranced at the idea and didn’t notice the alarm bells that went off in her head. He was obviously much more experienced than she, but that didn’t seem important now. She was entranced by the idea of being bound, and the idea that Eric had both equipment and experience just made that all the more attractive. 

He closed the blinds for privacy, then excused himself as he stepped into the other room. Lydia reclined in the leather sofa she’d sat down on, allowing the smell to further add to the intoxication of the scenario she continued to envision. She closed her eyes and sipped at her drink, imagining the feeling of the glove about her arms and straps about her body. The picture kept coming back up in her mind, but Eric had replaced the woman doing the tying. 

She heard his footsteps returning, and looked up to see him with a gym bag in one hand. It was open and some straps hung out of the opening. He swung it almost carelessly, as though he was just on his way to the gym and not about to tie somebody up. She smiled and stood as he approached, taking a large swig of her drink. He put the bag down on the sofa and hugged her to him. “Ready to proceed?” he’d asked as he looked at her. She couldn’t bring herself to speak and just nodded. 

He released her and said, “You can keep the clothing if you like, but most prefer to be without it.” He turned to the bag and began removing items, carefully straightening straps and placing them in an order that seemed to please him. She hesitated, knowing that this moment was coming but suddenly apprehensive. Then her desire overwhelmed her and she undid her belt and slid out of her skirt. 

Like many women, Lydia likes to wear lingerie on occasion just to please herself. Today was one of the days when she’d done so, wanting to feel particularly feminine when she visited the club. A garter belt held up stockings instead of her usual pantyhose, and her panties were far skimpier and lacier than her standard selections. She undid her blouse to reveal an expensive silk bra, also quite lacy for daily wear. She bent to undo the garters from the stocking and Eric had said, “You can keep those if they make you feel special. It’s the feeling we’re after, isn’t it?” 

She’d looked up and smiled, reassured by the comment. Then she’d continued to undo the garter. Eric seemed disappointed until she stepped out of her panties and began to refasten the garter belt to the stockings. He smiled and said, “Even better.” 

He sat and watched, preparations complete, as she finished re-attaching the stockings and getting her clothes neatly out of the way. She noticed some thin foam rubber blocks near the straps and that the straps and glove appeared to be either black latex or very shiny patent leather. With her clothing out of the way, she stepped so that one of the plant hangers was directly over her head, then looked at the floor submissively and said, “Am I suitably prepared?” 

Eric’s answer was simply to stand, grab the foam blocks and three straps, and walk over to her. She was caught up in the fantasy now, barely aware that this was actually happening to her. He placed one block at her ankles and the other at her knees, then secured them with the latex straps, pulling them as tightly as she imagined they had been in the picture. The blocks compressed greatly, but kept her joints from coming into what certainly would have been painful contact without them. They also forced her legs slightly apart compared to how she’d been tied before. 

Eric had stood and smiled, but said nothing as he returned to his stack of gear. He returned with the harness, a vibrator with a long cord connecting it to a controller, and a ball gag. Lydia balked a bit at the sight of the gag. But Eric didn’t seem to notice and put the items down except for the harness. He slipped the collar portion of it around her neck, causing her apprehension to flee from the fantasy. The collar was fairly tall, but not a posture collar (she’d seen those enough to know, even if she’d never worn one). She obligingly raised her arms parallel to the floor at his touch and he went about fastening the straps the went above and below her breasts, pulling the lower one a bit tighter than the top so that they stood out even more than the did with the support of her bra. Only the crotch strap (which she noticed was slightly contoured) remained unsecured. 

He stopped and picked up the gag, examining it to make sure that it hadn’t collected any dirt from the floor. Satisfied, he’d turned towards her and held it out to her mouth. She had to admit she had surprised even herself by accepting it, and he pushed it behind her teeth. He’d guessed the size quite well, as it filled her mouth completely without too much strain. The buckle went back behind her hair and he’d stopped to play with it after the strap was securely fastened. She’d moaned slightly in response. 

Then he’d retrieved the vibrator and stood next to her. He placed an arm across her stomach and pushed slightly on her back with the other while holding the vibrator. She guessed his intent, and bent at the waist, his hand providing extra balance in case the limits of the straps proved too much. Then he’d expertly found her waiting hole and slowly pumped the vibrator until it found its way deep inside her. She’d moaned as he did, long and longingly. Right now, nothing seemed like it could be better to her. 

He’d stood her back up and then slipped the crotch strap through her legs sideways. After pulling it until it was almost snug, he adjusted it (she obligingly spread her legs as much as the straps would allow which caused him to chuckle) so that it was positioned correctly, then tightened it as far as he could, perhaps a little further than Lydia would have liked. But she refused to let this bother her and continued to play along. 

He’d returned to the sofa then, grabbing the single glove, a pair of very short snap connectors and coils of rope that he had left in the bag. Lydia drew her breath deeply at the thought of what was coming, and nearly climaxed just thinking about it. He’d ignored her and stepped around behind her. The rope and connectors both landed on the floor by her feet, and she felt him pull her arms behind her back. 

“Putting on the single glove was a marvelous feeling,” she said. “As helpless as straps and ropes make you feel, the glove made them seem like not being tied at all. It gripped me so snugly and forced my arms towards each other without being too much strain but did it in a way that I knew would leave me unable to escape. When he fastened the strap behind my neck and my hands touched the base of the glove, I knew I wasn’t getting loose myself. It was incredible. 

“Then he’d slowly started tightening the straps that were around the wrists and elbows, asking me if it were too much with each adjustment and allowing me to struggle a bit to find out. When we hit the point where it was, he eased them off to the last adjustment and made them fast.” 

She paused, seeming to be both excited and terrified of the memory. I had to admit, the thought of her in bra, garters, straps, and harness had awoken what was probably an inappropriate lust in me since I knew that something bad was coming somewhere, but Lydia didn’t seem to notice and I wasn’t about to act on it. 

“The connectors then went on, though he paused to massage my breasts a bit and make me squirm. They fastened to D-rings on the side of the glove by the elbows to D-rings on the harness in the back. I couldn’t even pull my arms far from my butt now and was really getting lost in the feelings. Then he’d picked up the ropes. 

“It turned out to be three ropes. Each was tied to one of the plant hangers, then drawn back to a D-ring on the harness or the glove. He began to pull on the rope that passed through the ring at the bottom of the glove, and I groaned in surprise as he began to force me to bend at the waist. When my upper body was parallel to the floor, he stopped pulling and tied it off so that I couldn’t straighten myself. Then the one on my right and left were fastened to rings on the side of my body about level with my breasts. If I fell, they would absorb most of the weight rather than putting it on my arms.” 

She paused again and finished her drink, handing me the empty glass. I started to head back to the kitchen but she’d shaken her head, taken a deep breath, and continued. 

“The feeling was unbelievable. You’d always tied me well but this was absolutely inescapable. I thrashed about as much as I dared without knocking myself over, and Eric just watched me. He grabbed the remote for the vibrator and went back to the couch and his drink, leaving me to struggle and knowing it would do no good. I was surprised at how long the cord was, and might have been distracted if I weren’t so engrossed. I drooled a bit on the floor, but couldn’t have cared less. It was magical. 

“When I’d almost forgotten he was even there, the vibrator had gone on. It was powerful and raw, completely appropriate for my mood. I fantasized that you were there doing this to me rather than someone I didn’t know all that well from work. I could picture you sitting there grinning that shit-eating grin you have and driving me mad. 

“And I was even drunk enough to think it was you when he walked over and began running his hands over my body. He’d done this enough to know how to turn a woman on, no question about it. He seemed to know me like you do – where to touch and how much pressure to use. When to stop to keep me just on the edge. I was so frustrated and horny and it had been so long that I just surrendered to the feeling. For all I knew, it was you.” 

She slid across the couch and rested her head on my chest. 

“Then he undid the bra, which fortunately for both of us fastened in front. When he toyed with my nipples, I completely lost it. I screamed your name into the gag and begged for him to continue. He obliged until I finally went over the edge. It was so powerful that my legs slid out from under me, causing both the ropes and he to have to catch me and stand me back up. 

“I stood there panting as he made sure I had my balance, then walked back to the remote and shut off the vibrator. He walked away as I caught my breath, amazed that I could feel this way again without it involving you. When he came back, he pressed a cold, wet, washcloth to the back of my neck for a while, then wiped the sweat from my face and the drool from my lips. 

“Then he asked me if I wanted to stop. I had snapped back enough to realize it wasn’t you and wasn’t about to magically change into you, but I didn’t want the feeling to end. I shook my head and he lowered himself so that I could see him smile.” 

“Excellent,” he said. “I’ve more toys that will interest you.” 

“He walked away and returned a short while later. I’d cooled off a bit, but was ready to go again and I tried to signal that by struggling. His legs appeared in my field of view from behind, and as he placed a padded blindfold over my eyes he said ‘Soon enough. Time for some more punishment.’” 

Her voice view quite hard to hear now and I strained to make out every word. 

“I should have been suspicious then. We hadn’t really discussed punishment and the word hadn’t even come up. It was then that I realized we hadn’t really discussed much at all. I struggled a bit and groaned to get his attention, but he must not have understood.” 

Tears were welling up again and I hugged her in support. The eroticism was rapidly fading. 

“That’s when he started to whip me. He turned the vibrator back on and started to hit me with something on my thighs. I think it was a riding crop, but I couldn’t see and didn’t want to. I screamed into my gag and struggled, but he took that to be pleasure after my earlier demonstration and just kept going. And as my fantasy turned into a nightmare, the booze suddenly had you holding the crop and ignoring my discomfort and lack of desire.” 

The tears flowed now and she pulled away from me. I contemplated keeping her close to me, but thought better of it. Wherever this was going, she needed to get through it. She buried her head in her hands and wept for a few minutes. Then her voice, barely above a whisper, reached me again. 

“The whipping went on for what I thought was forever until he must have realized that my cries weren’t in pleasure. He suddenly stopped and came over to remove the blindfold and crouched down next to me, looking into my face. ‘Are you OK?’ he’d asked, and I shook my head violently. 

“He vanished behind me and released the rope that bent me over, then stood me up. The gag came out next and he said, ‘I’m sorry, Lydia, I thought…’ 

“I cut him off and demanded he release me immediately in a voice that was weaker than I liked. He remembered then that the vibrator was still going and went to turn it off. Then the straps and harness came off, ignoring the remaining ropes, until I was finally free. I fell onto the sofa and cried. Eric just stood there, not seeming to know what to do.” 

She looked over at me now and said, “I told him it was my fault as well – I hadn’t set the limits well. Then I got up, got dressed and left. When he tried to speak, I asked him not to talk, that I couldn’t do that now and just wanted to go. He just watched as I dressed and headed for the street and a cab. 

“I couldn’t tell him that it was you I’d imagined. That to me he was barely even there, just a tool for me to live out a fantasy I was beginning to believe would always be just that. An ocean apart and years since we’d seen each other, I had sometimes felt that I’d forgotten what you looked like and how much I wanted you. 

“So I’d returned to my apartment, all the while terrified that I’d turn and see you chasing me with a whip in hand, and sent him an e-mail that both forgave him for his part in the misunderstanding and apologized for my negligence. I’ve done this before and should have known better. He asked to talk about it, but I used work and the coming transfer as a reason to avoid him. And I did that successfully. 

“But I couldn’t lose the image of you doing that to me, as stupid as that is. When we lost touch, the image just seemed to get stronger and meaner, less caring about my feelings and actually wanting to hurt me. I blamed you a bit for what had happened and felt like your silence towards me was just another way of punishing me.” 

Now I let the urge to move get the better of me and I went and took her in my arms. She accepted the embrace willingly and the tears flowed once more. I just held her and inhaled the scent of her hair. I couldn’t think of anything to say that was appropriate and I didn’t think she was quite done yet. I was right. 

“When I concocted my plan and came here, I was terrified that I’d find the ‘Mr. Hyde’ I’d imagined. That’s why I tied you up rather than just showing up. Not just the fear of rejection, the fear that you’d be him and the person I wanted so badly didn’t exist any more. I guess my twisted logic said that if you still enjoyed being tied that way then you couldn’t be the monster that had grown in my imagination. So I ambushed you.” 

The tears were slowing and she twisted so that her head was in my lap and we could see each other clearly. 

“I was trying to protect myself from a you I prayed didn’t exist. And when you were the same person I’d missed so much, I felt so guilty that I wanted to explain it but couldn’t. How could I tell you that I’d made a monster out of you like that?” 

I bent and kissed her softly on the forehead, and then on the lips. Her actions and reactions made sense now, and now that the story was told I just knew we could get past them. We held the kiss for a moment, then I raised my head a bit and said, “I’ll bet we can banish that demon for good.” 

She smiled then, knowing that things were alright. She quietly asked me “And how can we do that?” 

I paused to kiss her again, then forced her to sit up as I looked at the ceiling. “Those beams could take quite a bit of weight and I know some sites where we can get the single glove and straps…” 

She didn’t let me finish, smacking me with a pillow then jumping on me and tickling my sides. As I fought back, I started piecing together the things I’d need from the hardware store…


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