Gothette Tied-Up next to the M4

Since I was younger I’ve enjoyed tight constraints. Tucked up tightly. Tight clothing. I particularly enjoy the tightness of rubber or leather clothing, its part of me, whether it’s just wearing them out under my clothes for my own secret pleasure, or wearing them ‘out out’ and enjoying the pleasure of people, men and women, lusting over my tightly encased body. There’s also the shock value. I like that too, but much of that goes down to the Goth scene of the late 80s, early 90s that I grew up with. What’s a girl to do?

Then there is the part that is pure sex with a like-minded partner. I like that very much. So it was beautiful to discover on one of those long nights last year that you, my gorgeous Somerset Minx, enjoyed similar pleasures. And now we’re free to explore that side of our sensuality.

Then again I must be a Switch because I also enjoy the pleasure of dominance. Though at this point I should stress the importance of dominance rather than control; consensual dominance rather than just ‘using’ someone as an object for my own sexual gratification. That doesn’t turn me on. Roleplaying humiliation with my best friend, or being humiliated by her, that works for me. Play at being used in a safe environment, again, a huge turn-on. Even more exciting in public, like the time in the booth at the back of that pub on Cockburn Street. You squirming against my hand as slid my hand inside your panties and I finger-fucked you there. That was such a turn on knowing that being made to cum in public was one of your fantasies… Perhaps next time I should attract some other punters. I’m sure many of them would also have wet themselves knowing that the two women at the back booth were wanking each other off.

I’ve always enjoyed that kind of public sex. Rubbing myself against my partners at crowded gigs. Feeling the other bodies pressing themselves against me. Not sure if they were aware of what I was doing to the man or woman I was with. Maybe that was part of the excitement?

Is it all part of the lack of control, the knowledge that I can’t stop what might happen? Or the knowledge that things will happen to me that I couldn’t at that time admit I wanted to do? Or have done to me. A way of giving myself over to my darkest fantasies, absolute pleasure?

You introduced me to rope bandage and the intricate knot-work it involves. Something else that we can both wear out to a bar. I do find it a turn-on to know what we have on under our vanilla shrouds. Just like when you insist on cutting the crotch out of my fishnets with your hunting knife minutes before we leave the room for our night out. Laying me back on the bed and parting my legs, pushing my skirt up and running the sharp blade over me…before slicing the fabric open. I know you love that feeling of power as you run the flat of the cold blade across my exposed sex. It turns me on knowing how much this excites you. Do you find the blade moist as you raise it to your lips? Then a night knowing that my, or both of our pussies are exposed. That I am able to touch your pussy whenever the opportunity arises, feeling how moist this semi-exposure makes you. Perhaps I should lift your skirt and ‘flash you’ to the others at the club?

By way of constraint, the feeling of rope on myself is quite intoxicating. The feeling of being bound, squeezed tightly. To give control over. My legs akimbo, exposed for your leisurely pleasure. The gradual building of arousal. Always exploring each other deeply, sometimes not so gradual or gentle, followed inevitably by release. Beautifully colourful, explosive wet release. Then afterwards the rush of sensation, and those lovely marks it leaves. Temporary reminders of pleasure, rather than our beautiful inked reminders of love.

We check in to the Travelodge at the junction of the M4; a stopping place for pinstriped travellers, along with men and women meeting for clandestine purposes. After all that’s what we’re there for but not in a Bi’ rather than traditional Hetero’ flavours. Not sure if a pair of females causes more or less of a stir, though if he thinks about it I’m sure the young man behind the functional reception desk could get himself of on the idea as he wasn’t averse to flirting with either of us as we checked in. Perhaps it was to tease him that I took you by the hand and led you along the corridor directed us to, or maybe I was just asserting ‘ownership’.

Door closed, clean and functional room. No headboard on the bed but I’d thought of that.

I pull you towards me and holding your face, kiss you deeply. You return the enthusiasm. All the time our lips are locked we indulge in the over-hurried comedy undressing that isn’t the movies. How long has it been since we’ve been alone together? Eventually we break and grinning madly at each other try to remove the last vestiges of our own clothing. Note to self: I love my boots, they look cool and sexy. I know Minx loves me in them but wear something I can slip off next time.

Fuck it! I’m keeping them on! You did say that you wanted to fuck me in them some time. Bra off revealing my heavy boobs, but panties still stuck on the buckles of my boots.

Here I come then. Luckily the room is already warm enough for me to pull you onto the top-sheet and pin you to the bed. Our skin pressed against welcoming skin, fingers exploring, our bodies already tingling with heightened excitement. I can feel how hot and moist I am, and rapidly discover how much you are. Kissing, pressing, biting, and delving into each other. I love you biting my nipples Minx! Caressing, squeezing and probing to satisfy our urgent needs for each other, for contact, for a quick satisfying release of our pent-up arousal.

Lying panting in each others’ arms. Joy.

You see the glisten in my eyes. I lick your fingers and you demand mine. That look in your eyes as you suck your own cum. Mine, and as dirty as I want you to be. Just as well, because I’m a filthy old Gothette too!

A swathe of discarded clothing provides a trail of non-biodegradable breadcrumbs if we need to leave the room in a hurry…sorry, just thinking of setting off that 3am fire-alarm at the hotel in Reading! Hell, was that car-park cold! Still there were lots of people clinging to each other for bodily warmth that night! Us, naked under our leather trench-coats, taking turns to slip a hand…

We open a bottle of fizz I remove from my purple travel case, and you provide some of Hotel Chocolate’s finest ‘to keep our strength up’.

Then what we planned before the weekend. It would be too easy to sink into each other and enjoy the vanilla touch and taste of each other. But we had something more in mind. I have something more in my case. I get up telling you to ‘remain on the bed’;-p with a degree of camp sternness. You pout, gorgeous in nothing but those lace boy-shorts. I love the way they cling to your curves, but did enjoy frigging you through the texture of the fabric earlier, and I know how turned on you get when I tug them tight into your pussy. Just like rope binding…

You sit up and swing round onto the edge of the bed as I squat naked apart from my buckled biker boots below you on the floor, opening my overnight case again. I think by now you know me Minx, and know what I might have in my case for you…

I produce the black leather cuffs with steel ‘boltsnap’ fixings that you bought me from Honour. My, that’s a naughty smile on my Minx’s face! Several lengths of red bungee-rope ending in steel sprung carabiner clips get thrown onto the bed, then two black lengths. No knot-work today. Is that a change in your breathing Minx? Are you getting excited once again in anticipation of your next sensual adventure?

And finally the red rubber ball with black leather straps. You look up from the device I hold in your hands and our eyes meet. Wide. I know you liked the humiliation of being gagged with your own wet panties last time, still sodden from when I had made you come through them. This time the enforced silence will be more restrictive.

I rise from the case and walk towards you Minx, flourishing the gag and a black padded eye mask. For today you will be blindfolded and gagged. Helpless in my power, just as we’ve both fantasised.

Only I know that also have a bag of rubber edged pegs in the case. These I will apply to you later.

I bend down to kiss you. “Remember, you won’t be able to use our safety word; use three sharp movements if you need to.” I slip the blindfold down over my Minx’s short peroxide hair, and settle it over your eyes. “Can you see anything?” I wave my hand vigorously in front of your face.

“No Ag…” Good.

I move behind you, tug down the top sheet and cover, and lay out two absorbent ‘changing mats’ behind her on the bed. We both know this will be messy. Delightfully messy, I’ve always liked wet sex.

“Give me your wrists.” She does, and I take one then the other and secure them in the leather cuffs, checking that they’re not too tight and the attached boltsnaps have enough movement in them for my purpose. I kneel and repeat this for your ankles, lifting your calves one at a time. Not passing on the opportunity to caress and kiss your lovely legs.

Satisfied with my work I stand and, bending, kiss my gorgeous Minx, “open your mouth!” I feed you the firm rubber gag, without protest though I note the excitement in your breathing, and secure it via the single buckle, not dissimilar I note to the ones on my boots. Realising I’ve still got them on I wonder whether this is just dressing for my role as Agatha, Rubenesque dominatrix. I smile down at my Minx sitting quietly before her mistress, then realise our little tableaux is reflected in the mirror. God, you look so fuckin’ hot!

Peroxide, trussed in blindfold, gag, and leather cuffs; ready for your mistress. Your lovely tits rising and falling with your already excited breathing. Those engorged rosy nipples that I so love sucking on. I know you like it, encourage me, when I treat them harshly. The sensual curves of your soft pale skin, only interrupted by the black swathe of your lace boy-shorts. You can keep your pants on, but I have a plan for those Minx!

I lift my iPhone and capture the moment; something to send to Minx when we both get home. I plan to take many, more explicit pictures later on, but back to the task – or the Minx – at hand.

I set to work securing the first length of red bungee-rope under the top end of the bed, using the shorter black lengths, carabiner to carabiner to hold them temporarily in place, repeating for the bottom of the bed. I tug on both, satisfied at how little give there is.

All the time you sit patiently on the edge of the bed, listening to me move around you. Imagining what I am doing.

I kneel beside you on the mattress before manoeuvring you into the centre of the bed. I kiss the side of your face, then your earlobe, and bracing myself with my left arm, lower you gently down onto the centre of the mattress. As I turn I brush my full and sensitive breasts accidentally across yours, and I feel you gasp wetly around your gag…

Reminds me of the story you told me of being accidentally stroked during a massage and how aroused it made you feel. Encouraged me to lie you down on some towels and cover you in oil. Though it wasn’t an accident when I slid my fingers down between your buttocks, my fingers sliding easily into your hungry pussy, then moving up to tease, then slide into your ass hole. So lovely and tight, and slippery…

This time you’re lying face up for me. I can see every twitch, jerk and contortion of sexual emotion. Albeit I’m depriving you of your right of vision and myself of those pleading eyes, those delightfully animal noises that reach out to but never touch our safe word. My responsibility increased to watch for our sign and keep you safe when you need to be.

The surface undulates and pings under us as I take your right arm and attach the cuffs’ steel ‘boltsnap’ fixings to the red rope carabiner at the head of the bed, the released black length attached temporarily to my metal bracelet to stop the length springing out of reach. Running my hands down your arms, circling your lovely breasts. Returning to work, releasing the black length only once your other wrist is securely clipped. Feeling a delightful sensation surge through me as I trace up your left arm. Mine; I do feel wicked tonight. Kneeling above you I take the black bungee ropes and swing it above you like a pendulum. Lowering it so that the steel carabiners glance against one of your nipples with each swing. Listen to you draw a sharp breath with each contact. I pause; then get a better muffled reaction with a slightly faster swing…

I bend down and kiss your lovely tiger tummy wetly, honouring your stripes all the way to the lace top edge of your panties. Beauty so often overlooked. Oh how easy it would be to get carried away and move lower. How I would love the taste of your arousal through your knickers! Work the texture of the material against your sex with my mouth…

I draw my finger tips up from your left knee to the tops of your thighs and back down again. You squirm with disappointment. I don’t think that quite deserves a slap, and I carry on down to your ankles. Firm hold, clips disengaged, one temporarily engaged to me, your first ankle clipped and released from my hold for your legs to be drawn asymmetrically open and down against the bed. Moving over, I hold, unclip and reattach the red bungee to your right ankle cuff. I look up at your pussy, your lips already pink and clearly visible through the sheer lace, moist and engorged from your earlier frigging. This really is turning you on being tied up by your ‘Mistress’? I release your ankle from my hold and enjoy the view as your legs are drawn further open for my inspection. Do you know that I’m looking at you, displayed through your almost transparent panties, drinking you in with my eyes? You really need me, my touch! Do you know that someone is looking at you, at your aroused cunt splayed like that, and you can’t do a fucking thing about it?

Standing, I unclip the length of bungee from my bracelet and discard it on the floor. It was tempting to draw its weight up between your parted thighs, but I’m not that cruel. Yet. Instead I admire my work: you, spread-eagled, legs splayed apart for me. I watch your breasts rise and fall quietly, walking round the bed, lifting my iPhone and taking more pictures. I know you’ll enjoy these later. Perhaps we can even tease Luxx with them next time we take him out and get him drunk? Tease that cock of his until its fit for bursting?

I turn the room temperature up. I want you hot, with as much blood flowing to your skin as possible, heightening your sensitivity to my touches.

Now I have you bound I can you what I like to you. You like that, I know, we’ve talked about it on the phone a lot. You’ve wanked yourself off to a wet climax as I described what I might do to you. What a turn on! Are you going over those sex calls now, trying to imagine what I will do to you my horny little bound bitch?

Time to play. I kneel down between your bound calves, stroking your both your ankles just above the cuff. Soft touches, stroking you gently – lines and circles – up from each cuff.

Pausing as I reach that lovely soft flesh at the tops of your thighs, just below your panties. Circling. Building anticipation.

Circling widely out towards your lace draped hips, up across the lovely curve of your tummy. You moan with disappointment. Drawing the tips of my longer nails back and forth under your boobs. Are you trying to squirm those tits under my hands? Naughty! Circling those lovely boobs, studiously avoiding your wonderfully engorged nipples. Are they aching to be touched? Are they already tingling with your arousal? I love feeling them grow in my mouth. They are the most superb nipples I have ever played with!

Replacing my fingers with my tongue, licking around the beautiful softness of your boobs. Gently. I love them when they’re slippery with my saliva, feeling them rub against mine. Don’t worry I’ll be harsher with them later…

Another set of pictures, this time close ups, blowing on your moistened nipples and capturing the swelling. Pleased at the muffled gasps you make for me.

Now for your pussy, My Minx!

First running a finger up the sodden crotch of your knickers. I do love the wet sound you make enveloped in sheer fabric. It’s a shame those knickers won’t last tonight – you look so cute in them -as I remember something else you mentioned on the phone. Something I had to made a special note to bring. Not something I usually carry. I unwrap the 7″ kitchen knife, sharpened to perfection.

“I have a knife. You said you’d fantasised about me doing something with it.” You shudder in response. “You said it would be more exciting if I cut the crotch out of your knickers whilst you were wearing them…” I run the flat of the blade up your inner thigh. “…expose your cunt to me tart! I’m going to fuckin’ use you like you’ve never been used before!”

With that I pull your knickers by the waist-band and tug them up sharply into you. The blade held at a safe distance. You gasp wetly behind the gag. Taking a firmer grasp lower down on the wet fabric I tug them harder. Again, harder. This time a rip signals the limit of the fabric’s strength, and a louder muffled-gasped ‘yes’ suggests you like what I’m doing to you… I do know from experience that you like the feel of having your knickers pulled up tightly against your clit. With this in mind I work the fabric up and down against your delicate little bud of sensation. But not for too long. I want to taste you.

I know only too well how you like being licked through fabric. I release my grip and tug it from your moist slit, a small tear across the front of the small garment. Tempted to dive right in, I restrain myself, lowering myself slowly so that I can lick at your panties at a leisurely pace. Working my way down your lace mons from the tear where I ‘accidently’ make brief contact with your skin. Are you tilting your pelvis up at me Minx? Can you not wait!? Naughty! Perhaps I should? I pause…

Then lick at the apex of your pussy lips where I know you are most sensitive. I feel you shudder against my face. You won’t last very long now, will you?

I begin to lap enthusiastically at the moist fabric doused with the juices of your arousal. Forcing my tongue into you, pushing. Running it up and attempting to flick your clit through the fabric. Pushing harder, feeling your pelvis begin to tremble, then shudder. I realise that you are grunting ‘es’ again and again through the gag. I clamp my mouth around your lace enveloped clit and work my tongue over it for all I am worth. The tremble becomes a shudder and you produce one long strained animal noise.

I am rewarded, I stop. One last gentle nuzzle. I listen to your decelerating breathing. It always gives me so much pleasure to make you cum with my mouth. There’s something exceptionally intimate about it.

“Don’t move.” Starting at the tear in the fabric, I begin to cut the lace, one strand of elasticated lace at a time. I can almost hear each one give to the sharp blade as it tears its way downwards. Precariously close to your delicate sex. Is it cruel of me to briefly rest the flat of the blade against the softness of your engorged outer labia? But from your breathing you are enjoying the cruelty. This element of play is new to me, and I’ not sure how comfortable I am with it… I lose myself in the visual delight of your freshly shaven pussy, the beautiful pink contours of your most intimate place. The pleasing perfume of your sex. I close my eyes and drink in your scent. Yes.

Sliding a single finger along length of those moist engorged lips. Feeling you shudder, feeling you attempt to push for greater contact. From your muffled grunts I know that you are begging to feel my fingers inside you. Just one to start with Minx? Will that be enough?

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