A SHORT STORY BY CHRIS BARRISH.

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THE RESORT

We return to your apartment after dinner and dancing. You are curious about the suitcase I brought from the car. When queried as to its contents, I simply responded, "amusements". You ask if I would like a drink...Yes, white wine. We chat a bit. You kick off your shoes. I tell you I would like to make you feel very good. You say please do. We adjourn to the bedroom. I will do everything for you, I say, just relax and enjoy. Out of the mysterious suitcase I take an Ace elastic bandage with which I blindfold you. Hush, don't say a word. I unbutton your blouse, very slowly. I slip it off your shoulders, folding it and placing it on your dresser. I undo your skirt and take my time letting it fall to your ankles. You step out. I fold your skirt and place it on the dresser. I unfasten your bra and slip it off. Your arms as a matter of reflex you cover your breasts; I place my hands on your shoulders sliding them down to your wrists. With gentle persuasion I move your wrists back to your sides. I see an upholstered bench near your dresser. Out of my bag I bring a white satin cloth. I place the cloth on the bench. I slip my thumbs under the waistband of your panties and pantyhose. Ten fingers follow their way down to your ankles. I help you to sit on the satin covered seat. The coolness of the satin surprises you, catching you unaware

 I slide your panties and hose off your feet, ever so slowly. Out of the magic satchel comes a length of soft cotton rope. Your wrists are crossed behind you, and the rope begins to wind around them. It isn't uncomfortable, yet you know it is inescapable. And once again the trusty old bag yields but two more pieces of rope. These find their way to secure your ankles to the bench seat, spreading your legs slightly. The slow caressing and stroking begins. Shoulders, back and arms; sensations dancing upon your skin. The delightful digits travel around to your breasts, starting with large circles, the caresses spiral inward. As I reach the areola, I find erect nipples. These will be given even more attention. Each hand cups a breast, thumb and forefinger rubbing each nipple. I squeeze, slightly more than you would allow if your wrists were unbound, but being bound the sensation is very intense, yet not painful. I fondle your breasts a little more. I move down to your legs, starting with your feet. Each toe receives attention, and the soles of your feet, being stroked gently. I begin long stokes up and down your legs, from your ankles to your thighs pressing more as I approach the top. I move to your belly, just above your pubic hair - circling slowly. I caress your fun fur and thighs intensely, avoiding your pussy. You are going to have to wait for that pleasure. How long? Long enough to beg for it, but only with your moans. The stroking continues, the moans increase.I insert a finger between your love lips to find a warm and wet clitoris. I rub up and down over this spot the moans get louder, I rub faster. My middle finger slips into your vagina, stroking in and out. . I endeavor to find the Graffenberg Spot; just inside the vagina on the top, a place of incredible stimulation. You go into a frenzy, your bound and naked body heaving with desire. You are so very close to an orgasm you are sure will make you pass out and I *** S T O P *** NO! I will not let you orgasm yet! No matter how much you plead, I will not finish you off...yet. This is the intense moment for me also making you wait for an orgasm. This is bondage. I am torn by a decision - shall I let you have multiple orgasms or one monumental earth shaking orgasm after being re-tied in several bondage positions? To keep you in a sexual dither for hours? Time to re-tie you, but slowly. I remove the blindfold one wrap at a time. I have something new for you to try, a red patent leather helmet. You look at it - shiny and red with laces and buckles all over. With the removable blindfold off, I place it on your head. I pull it into place and begin to lace it. Each lace I tighten draws the helmet closer to your skin, a closeness much like a massage. The laces are complete, all the way down to the base of your neck. I untie your ankles. Gently holding your nipples, I ask you to stand. I lead you by your nipples to the full length mirror on the closet door. I stand behind you, caressing your breasts from behind. You see yourself in the mirror; naked, wrists tied behind you, wearing this shiny red object on your head that makes the whole of the rest of your body quiver with sensation. The person in the mirror is no longer You, it is a raging fireball no longer responsible for her actions.