Tara's Predicaments (M/F)

[OldTUGger]

Part I (of 3) – A Weighty Affair

Tara’s brow furrowed as she spoke into the phone.

“Predicament bondage? What in the world is that?” she asked. The petite blonde had done quite a few bondage photo sessions, but to date they had all involved damsel-in-distress, high-fetish or shibari scenarios.

“Predicament bondage is just like it sounds,” Jay explained. “You’re tied in such a manner that you’re between a rock and a hard place, figuratively speaking. Moving one limb puts pressure on another, that sort of thing. I know you enjoy bondage that tests your willpower and stamina, so when I got commissioned to do a predicament shoot, you were the very first one I thought to ask.”

“Sounds intense,” she replied.

“There will be ‘rewards,’ and I’m not just speaking of your fee.”

Tara felt a stirring in her loins. In a couple of their previous shoots, Jay had, with Tara’s permission, subjected her to varying degrees of stimulation and torment. She had loved it.

“Interesting,” she heard herself reply. “It does indeed sound like something I might enjoy. Count me in.”

That had been two weeks ago. Now, as she strolled up the walkway toward Jay’s house, she saw him open the door and step onto the porch.

“Hello pretty lady! It’s nice to have you back for another session,” he said.

“How could I refuse?” she replied with a demure smile. “Your regular, run-of-the-mill bondage has always been -- um -- ‘stimulating.’ From your description of predicament bondage, this might be even more fun.”

“Well, I’ve devised a couple of setups that not only will look good in photos, but might just rock your world,” he grinned.

They walked down the hallway toward Jay’s studio. As Tara stepped through the open doorway, her eyes went wide. Jay had been a busy boy. He had rearranged the room into three separate shooting areas, each with its own lighting setup and each with a different bondage apparatus -- designed, she rightly suspected, to tease and torment her to ever-increasing levels of lustful frenzy. She tingled with anticipation.

The tallest and most elaborate rig drew her immediate attention: two vertical posts, each about 8 feet high, with eyebolts at their tops and bottoms. Jay followed her gaze and grinned.

“Imagine yourself spread-eagled between these posts, with a juicy little predicament thrown in to spice things up,” he said.

“What will I be wearing?” Tara asked.

Jay gave her a sideward glance. “Nada. High heels on your feet and nothing else.”

“Well, that’s easy enough. Remember that time when you had me wearing a latex catsuit with a corset and thigh boots? It seemed like it took half the day to get in and out of all that kit!”

“Why do you think I want you naked for this shoot?” he teased. “My luck, though, you’ll spend hours working on your hair and makeup.”

Tara stuck her tongue out at him and headed for the bathroom. It took her no time at all to doff her shorts, tank top and underwear. She hurriedly ran a brush through her hair and spent only five minutes applying makeup.

Ah, the advantage of being naturally adorable, she thought as she took a final glance at the mirror. She was almost out the door when she remembered the heels, which she donned with practiced ease.

Jay was waiting near the two tall posts. “Step over here and stand between them,” he said. As she did so, Jay laid several hanks of rope on the floor near where Tara was to stand. “Remember Fay Wray in ‘King Kong?’ You’re going to look a lot like that,” he said. “But first I have a little rigging to do.”

He knelt and wrapped a doubled rope four times around Tara's right ankle and spent several additional seconds securing it there with an intricate-looking knot. The finished result looked like a cuff with a doubled rope trailing from it. Her left ankle got the same treatment.

“Now for your wrists,” Jay said. He took a thicker rope and, with both hands, put three opposite-facing twists into the loops he held between his thumbs and forefingers. Tara looked at him quizzically.

“It's called a cat's paw knot,” he explained. “It's the first step in making flogging cuffs.”

She recoiled. “Flogging?! Oh, no! You never said anything about flogging!!!!!”

“Relax,” he said, chuckling. “No one's going to flog you. It's just the name of a particular type of restraint.” He slipped the two loops over one of Tara's hands and snugged it up so the resulting knot sat on the inside of her wrist. He then took the trailing end and, starting in her palm at the base of her thumb, wrapped it around her hand, crossed it under itself, and locked it off with another fancy knot.

“Here's how these work, Tara,” he explained. “The knot gives you something to hold onto and keeps your wrists from taking too much strain.” He rigged her other wrist the same way. “Now it’s time to string you up.”

He threaded one of the wrist ropes through the eyebolt atop the nearest post and pulled it until Tara's arm was fully outstretched. Walking around to the other side, he did the same for the opposite hand. Working from one post to the other, he gradually adjusted the cords until Tara stood centered between the posts, stretched into a taut "Y" shape.

She tugged on the rope, testing her bonds. “Hey, how did you learn all these different ways to tie people up?”

“In college, actually. I earned a Ph.D. in bondage. In my case, though, the letters stood for ‘perverted horny dude.’” Jay paused and chuckled. “Seriously, a lot of the knots and lashings I learned in Boy Scouts. I worked out some of the ties with my wife, and picked up others off the Internet.”

He threaded one of Tara's ankle ropes through an eye bolt and pulled one leg to the side as far as it would go. When he finished knotting off the rope to the other leg, Tara felt her body stretched into an 'X' so wide she had to strain to stay balanced on her skyscraper heels. She pulled on the ropes, testing them. They stretched a tiny bit, but not enough to allow her to bend her arms or legs.

“Now I need to back the tension off a bit,” Jay said. “You'll see why in a minute.”

Tara watched as best she could from her enforced position between the posts as Jay slackened the tension on the wrist ropes. “Interesting predicament,” Tara observed.

Jay laughed. “That’s only the bondage part. The predicament is yet to come.” From the far corner of the room he retrieved what appeared to be a large barbell disc and laid it at Tara's feet. She watched, fascinated, as he threaded a rope several times through the disc’s center, forming a harness of sorts. He knotted the harness firmly, leaving a small loop in its middle.

“Crotch rope time!” he announced. He passed a doubled strand of rope around Tara and threaded the trailing ends through the loop he held at the small of her back. He pulled the doubled strand down, passed it between her legs, threaded it under the front of the waist rope and pulled down firmly. Tara gasped as the rope burrowed into her nether regions.

“Now, Tara, I need for you to bend your knees as much as you can, even if it puts strain on your wrists. Could you do that for me? Good.” Pulling down on the crotch rope, he threaded it through the loop atop the barbell weight and took out every millimeter of slack before he knotted it off.

“Almost finished,” Jay said as he retrieved a ball gag and leather blindfold from a nearby table. “Open wide.”

The ball, larger than the ones Jay had used on her during their previous photo session, stretched Tara’s jaw almost to its limit. The padded blindfold robbed her of every vestige of sight.

“OK, Tara, I’m going to attach clamps to your nipples now,” he warned. “You’ll feel a bit of a pinch.”

She yelped as the first clamp bit down, and yelped even louder for the second. She felt Jay tie a cord to the clamps’ foot-long connecting chain, and then squealed as she felt him thread the cord over an overhead cable and slowly, inexorably pull her breasts skyward by her protesting nipples. Tara tried to rise onto her tiptoes to ease the pain, but found she couldn’t because her towering heels already held her feet in almost an en pointe position.

“All right, here's your predicament,” Jay explained. “If you want to ease the pull on your breasts, you have to straighten your legs. In order to straighten them, you'll need to lift this 45-pound weight off the floor, at which time you'll become intensely acquainted with that crotch rope. To ease the discomfort between your legs, you’ll need to lower the weight to the floor, which means your breasts will be pulled upward again and your legs will be bent and straining. Your choice, Tara. Which shall it be, the devil or the deep blue sea? Have fun!”

You’re in trouble this time, girl, Tara thought, trying to ignore the growing discomfort in her wrists, the pain in her nipples and the trembling fatigue in her thighs, which, she realized, had indeed begun to tire.

She heard the staccato pop-pop-pop of Jay’s strobes as he snapped shot after shot, chronicling every detail of her ever-increasing discomfiture -- her hands gripping the ropes that held her arms outstretched, her cruelly suspended breasts, the saliva beginning to dribble from the corners of her ball-gagged mouth, the taut crotch rope.

When the torment in her breasts and the strain on her thighs finally became unbearable, Tara inhaled sharply and, steeling herself, straightened her legs, lifting the weight from the floor.

The crotch rope dove deep inside her cleft. The pain in her wrists and breasts diminished, only to be replaced by the sensation she was being sliced in half from below with a cheese wire. A primal growl emanated from her throat.

“Good! Hold that,” Jay said. Tara heard the camera click again and again as the photographer focused on her tortured loins. When the pain grew too intense, she slumped in her bonds, dropping the weight to the floor and again transferring the strain to her poor breasts.

“And now you become a human yo-yo,” Jay said as he clicked away, capturing cycle after cycle of Tara’s misery. Finally, after what seemed to her like a thousand repetitions -- but actually was only four or five -- she felt him loosen the knot that tied the crotch rope to the weight. He pulled the crotch rope gently from her throbbing declivity and then unbuckled her gag.

“Ohmigod,” she gasped as he pulled the ball from her mouth. “That…was…intense.”

“I’m afraid that wasn’t the most intense part of this predicament,” he said. “Those nipple clamps need to come off, and when they do it’s going to hurt quite a bit. If you think you might scream, I could put the gag back in.”

Tara nodded and licked her lips. “I’ve worn clover clamps before. The gag will at least keep me from frightening the neighbors.”

Jay placed the ball back into Tara’s mouth but left the strap unbuckled. “Ready?” he asked as his hands grasped the clamps. She nodded again. He squeezed and released both clamps simultaneously.

“NNNGGGGGHHHHHHH!” she cried into the gag as the blood coursed back into her tortured areolae. “Nggh! Nggh…nggh.” She hung there, panting heavily, trying her best to fight back the tears she felt trickling from her eyes.

Jay removed the gag and the blindfold. “Oh my,” he said, concern showing on his face. “I think I might have overdone it. Your mascara is running.”

“You weren’t joking when you called this ‘predicament bondage,’” Tara said, still breathing quite hard. “No matter what I did, I ended up making matters worse for myself. Don’t worry about my makeup; I’ll have that fixed in no time. But I was expecting ‘sexytimes’ predicaments, not the Spanish Inquisition! Don’t you have something a little more -- uh -- stimulating for me to try?”

“Coming right up,” Jay said as he released Tara from her bonds. “Go fix your makeup and get something to drink. You’re going for a ride -- a couple of them, in fact. I hope you like horses.”


Part 2 (of 3): A Knotty Equestrienne

“All right, Jay, I think I’ve recovered enough from the last predicament to try another,” Tara said as she exited the bathroom.

Jay looked her over with a photographer’s eye for detail. Hair? Freshly combed. Makeup? Fully repaired. Rope marks? Fading fast. She’d even used eye drops to eliminate the tear-generated redness in her eyes. That’s my Tara, he thought. Ever the professional!

“Step over here,” he said, gesturing toward the rope table. “I'll rig you here, and then I'll move you to the predicament.”

He moved behind her. “Put your arms behind your back and use your hands to grab the opposite elbow.” Tara felt him bind her wrists and then gasped slightly as he pulled upward, placing her arms in a double-hammerlock position. He brought the rope over her left shoulder, crossed it high over her chest, passed it under her right arm and continued on, doing the same on the other side. When he finished, the ropes crisscrossed just below her collarbones and between her shoulder blades. With the last few feet of rope, Jay knotted her wrist bonds solidly to the X formed by the ropes between her shoulder blades.

“Blindfold time,” he announced, buckling a padded leather band tightly around her head. “And now for your gag.”

Tara opened her mouth and felt a sizable ball being pushed into it. She waited patiently as Jay adjusted the gag's elaborate leather harness, buckling it tightly in several places.

“Put your feet about six inches apart,” he ordered, and bound her ankles with a bar-wrap that allowed her to take only tiny, mincing steps. Holding onto her upper arm, he urged her forward. “Come this way,” he said. “Take it slow. I'll make sure you don't fall.” Following his lead, she shuffled slowly across the room. Finally he stopped. “Stand here, Tara, and face this way.”

She heard him fumble with something on the floor behind her. “Spread your knees. I'm going to pass a rope between your legs,” he said, and fed what felt like an entire coil of rope through the resulting gap.

After passing the rope through, Jay continued to the other side of the room, paying the rope out behind him. Tara stood there, curious about what he might be doing, until she felt the rope rise up between her legs until it pushed quite firmly against her nether regions.

Jay returned to her side. “Have you ever ridden a pony, Tara? That's what this is called -- ‘riding the pony.’ This rope is your pony. As you can feel, it is thicker than most of the ropes I've bound you with. It is also knotted at random intervals along its entire length. Hold still.”

Tara felt him adjust the rope so that it rested squarely in the middle of her already sensitized labia. “Your assignment,” he explained, “is to use this rope to turn yourself on. When I give you the signal, you are to hobble forward, passing over the knots until you reach the powerful vibrator tied into the rope near the other end. The rope will be lubricated, at least for the first several feet. By then, your natural lubrication should have taken over. Just to make it interesting, the rope is a couple of inches higher at the other end than it is at this end, so the pressure from the rope and the knots will increase as you move forward.”

She felt him attach the D-ring atop the harness gag to something overhead.

“Your gag is now attached to a cable that parallels the rope directly overhead,” he said. "That will keep you bolt upright, and your high heels will keep you from rising onto your tiptoes. I'll be photographing your progress. Have fun!”

Tara took three tiny steps forward. The rope slid easily between her nether lips, but the bumps created by each twist of the rope tap-tap-tapped against the most erogenous of her erogenous zones. She felt an almost electric charge travel through her pelvis.

Uh-oh. If the rope is affecting me like this, what are the knots going to do?

She soon found out. Though well-lubricated, the knot pressed hard against Tara’s sensitized bud. Biting down hard on the ball gag, she pushed forward. The flick as the knot slipped past nearly buckled her knees. She stood there, panting.

“Only an unknown number of those to go, Tara,” Jay said cheerily. “The sooner you get to the other end, the sooner you get to make friends with that vibrator.”

“Mmph-hll,” Tara murmured through the gag. Jay wasn’t quite sure what she had said, but figured quite rightly that it rhymed with “glass bowl.” He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Steeling herself, Tara shuffled slowly forward, growing more aroused with each irregularity in the bowstring-taut rope. The fifth knot brought her dangerously close to the edge. She stood there a while, recomposing, for more than a minute before continuing.

As she pushed up the rope incline, the stimulation to her loins grew ever more intense. To make matters worse (better?), Tara felt the rope start to vibrate.

Must…be…getting…close…OH! she thought as yet another knot slid past. The buzzing of the vibrator grew louder. Not…far…now…OH, YESSssss….

Jay caught Tara as the first wave of ecstasy broke over her. He held her as she bucked and moaned, grinding her hips over the head of the Hitachi. As the tsunami ebbed, he unhooked the harness-gag from the overhead cable, snipped Tara’s ankle bonds and lifted her off the pony-rope. She snuggled against his chest as he carried her to the sofa.

“Wowww…” she murmured as the gag came out.


Part 3 (of 3) – Better Living through Electricity

“All right, Tara, are you ready for the pièce de résistance?” Jay asked.

Tara looked up at him from the sofa, where she’d spent the last half-hour snuggled in a blanket, drinking water, nibbling chocolates and recovering from the powerful release she’d enjoyed earlier.

“Don’t you mean pièce de non résistance? After all, I’ll be tied up,” she said cheekily.

“Good point. Go do your hair and makeup while I get thing set up in here.”

Minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom sporting the look Jay had asked for -- red high-heeled pumps…and nothing else.

“What torments do you have in mind for me this time, O Binder of Damsels?” she asked.

“I call it ‘Better Living through Electricity,’” Jay replied, as he swept aside a large cloth to reveal what lay beneath.

“Ooh, a Sybian!” Tara said excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to take a ride on one of those.”

Jay squatted down and patted a spot on the floor. “Sit here and we’ll get you tied.”

Tara sat patiently as Jay wrapped and cinched thick bands of ropes around her legs, pinning her ankles to her thighs in classic frog-ties. Tight loops around her stiletto heels made sure she’d keep her shoes on no matter how hard she might squirm.

The bondage on her arms was straightforward as well. Tightly cinched bands at her wrists and elbows welded her forearms together, and Jay rigged a rope harness over her shoulders to keep the elbow ropes from slipping.

The next bit of bondage surprised Tara -- a wide leather belt that fit tightly around the small of her waist. Short leather straps tipped with snap-hooks dangled from the belt in four places. “What are those for?” she asked.

“You’ll see. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

A tall, thick posture collar came next. Tara had worn them before, but this one was different. It buckled on the sides and sported heavy steel D-rings in front and in back. Jay buckled it snugly around her neck, forcing Tara’s chin upward and rendering her unable to turn her head more than a fraction to her right or left.

“OK, time for you to saddle up,” he said. “But first I’ve got to prepare the saddle. You do know how a Sybian works, don’t you?”

“Yes, I’ve seen them in action before at play parties,” Tara said. “Are you going to let me pick the size of the ‘insert’?”

“Sure. Small, medium or large?”

“Small, please,” she said wryly. “It will remind me of a former boyfriend.”

Jay snapped the attachment onto the Sybian and chuckled. With the phallus in place, the device strongly resembled an English riding saddle with a highly unusual Western pommel. After coating the insert with a thick application of lubricant, he returned to Tara’s side.

“Thy steed awaits, Milady,” he said, lifting her up and setting her down atop the rubbery protuberance. It took a moment to get the alignment just right, but Tara soon settled into place on the slender shaft.

She soon discovered the purpose of the four unusual straps. Jay fastened the snap hooks to D-rings attached to the Sybian’s front, back and sides and tightened the straps. The straps held Tara firmly to the device, and with her arms dangling useless behind her and her legs doubled up, the pressure on her nether regions seemed exponentially more intense.

Jay snap-hooked additional straps to the collar’s D-rings and attached them fore and aft to the Sybian. A final piece of rope connected Tara’s wrist bonds to the rear of the saddle.

“I…I can’t move,” Tara said wonderingly. “I mean, I can wiggle my fingers, but that’s about it.”

She felt Jay move beside her, and, in her peripheral vision, she saw a bright-red orb approach. The silicone ball squeaked past her teeth and Jay buckled it as deeply between her jaws as it would go.

“Ready?” he said, holding his camera in one hand and the Sybian’s controls in the other.

“Mmm-hmm.”

He turned the control for the vibrating pad to its lowest setting. Tara’s eyes grew wide. She had the sensation that every one of the hundreds of little cilia on the pad was a tiny finger, teasing and stimulating her already sensitized groin.

“That’s to warm you up,” Jay said as he snapped a few photos.

If this is a warm-up, the game’s going to get wild. Heaven help me… Tara tensed her thighs to see if she could lift her girly bits off the pad. No dice. Warmth spread through her loins as she sat, inescapably bound, waiting for whatever Jay and the marvels of alternating current might have in store for her.

Jay let her simmer a while and bumped the dial up another notch. Tara’s moan, lusty and primal, rose from her core. Her breaths grew quicker.

“Brace yourself,” Jay warned. “Things are about to get a lot more…interesting.” He twisted the control box’s other dial an eighth turn clockwise.

Tara felt the phallus begin to rotate. Oh.....my…..Oh….my.....oh….oh…

Jay advanced both throttles at once. Tara strained against her bonds, her eyes wild over the gag.

“Just so you know, we’re nowhere near full power yet,” he teased. “Just to give you an idea of how intense this might get, I’m going to half power in 3…2…1…”

Tara’s moan rose into a squeal. A wave of pleasure built inside her, rising, rising…

…And Jay dialled the intensity back.

“GGHHNNOOOoooo!!! she wailed.

He dialled it up again and watched, fascinated, as the stimulation whipped Tara into another near-frenzy.

I really should be getting pictures of this, he thought as he picked up his Nikon and began blazing away. His right hand tripped the shutter as his left hand toyed with the Sybian’s controls. Time and again he brought his straining young captive to the edge of release, only to back off.

Her shrieks of frustration grew louder, her lustful moans and growls more guttural. As she teetered close to the edge yet again, Jay suddenly firewalled both throttles at once.

Tara’s eyes rolled back as her body yielded to wave after orgasmic wave. One after another they broke, each one overloading her senses more than the last…

Jay switched off the Sybian. Had the straps and the rigid collar not held Tara upright, she might have collapsed. Jay laid down the camera and control box and rushed to her side.

An hour later, a litre and a half of water and most of a box of chocolates later, Tara’s legs finally regained enough strength for her to stand. Her eyes still had a faraway look to them, and she still succumbed to occasional fits of uncontrollable giggling. Jay drove her home in her car and caught a cab back to his house.

He had just started straightening up the studio when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Jay, it’s Tara. I want you to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll need you to come over to my house in a few days. Would you do that?”

“Sure. But why?”

“The Sybian I just ordered will be arriving, and I’m going to need your help learning to use it. I think I’m addicted to predicaments.”


THE END

[TheBaconDude]

That was a pretty great story! The ending had me laughing

[Cleavegagger]

Great story, loved reading it

[MisterMistoffelees]

Some of the best repartee ever posted here. "Reminds me of a former boyfriend" was precious.