She tied it, then pulled the rope, making it taut. I started mmmphing complaints into the tape, but she just told me to quiet and continued feeding the rope through my wrist ropes. I then felt her bend my legs behind me and start looping rope through the loops around my ankles. I just laid there while Brittany tied my ankles and knees. Ignoring my muffled protest, she spoke in my ear: “just relax and enjoy, and you better leave that tape on” and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. She ripped-off a long piece of duct tape and smoothed it over my mouth. “Oh, hush! I haven’t even started your legs yet!” Brittany responded. “Ok! Jesus! I think you’ve got me pretty well tied!” I complained – starting to get a little nervous about how little I could move. She took another piece of rope and fed it underneath me (bumping my package on “accident”), fed it through my bound wrists and tied it off, keeping my bound arms secured to my lower back. She was apparently just getting started She then started wrapping rope around my upper arms and elbows with the same idea – tying the rope around each arm, then tying them together. Finally, she tied it off and my hands were securely tied to each other, I couldn’t separate them an inch if I tried. She looped it around one wrist, cinched it off, did the same with the other wrist, then tied my hands together, then wrapped rope the other direction, between my hands. I put my hands behind my back.īrittany began winding rope every-which-way around my hands. Her breath on my neck gave me goosebumps, and made it suddenly more uncomfortable to be laying on my front. “I feel like we should talk about how long I’m going to be tied up for” I saidīrittany leaned down with her face next to my ear and said with a devilish, seductive tone, “I said, put your hands behind your back”. I was laying on my stomach and Brittany half-straddled me and said “Put your hands behind your back” It was fairly large, so I fit, but just barely. So, I begrudgingly laid on the coffee table that was in front of the couch. “Hey, you don’t get to argue! I want to be able to watch you squirm!” she said with a laugh Brittany came back down the stairs with some off-white rope and a brand new roll of duct tape. I sat still and watched the credits roll, trying to stay positive about the future. “Don’t go anywhere!” Brittany said and ran upstairs to “get some stuff” “I get to tiiie you uuuuuup!” she sang at me. “YES! YES! YES!” Brittany shouted while jabbing the air with her fists. 45 minutes later, the judges made their ruling on the final challenge: my guy lost. So, we picked our contestants and watched the show. “Yay!” Brittany said with a devilish grin that only made me more excited. “Deal” I said, already playing out my winning scenario in my head. The bulge in my pants was doing all my thinking at this point: if I win, she goes down on me, even if I lose she ties me up, but still gets me excited? I bet she wouldn’t stop there! Sounds like a win-win to me. “I just feel like it would be fun! I could tease you and you couldn’t do anything about it!” Brittany said, still wide-eyed and smiling. I didn’t like the idea of being powerless like that. “But if I win” she continued, “I get to tie you up!” “Hmm… Ok” and just like that, I was on-board. “Well, you know what I want…” We had been dating 3 years at this point, and had messed-around, so this request wasn’t THAT far out – I had been hinting at. “I don’t know, what do you want?” she asked. “So… what would I get if I win?” I hinted “Like, the loser has to do something for the winner”.īetween her smile, and the words coming out of her mouth I was suddenly very interested… and aroused. “Nooo!” she said with a smile and lightly slapped my shoulder. “We could each predict who’s going to win at the end of the episode, and the winner gets whatever the stakes are, that way the episode is more interesting for us” I gave her my puzzled look and asked “a bet? For what?” Suddenly, Brittany sits-up on her knees and turns to me all wide-eyed and asks “you wanna make a bet?!” She was wearing a tight fitting pink t-shirt that complimented her curves, and jeans that hugged her ass. We were watching some cooking competition show in her living room and we were both complaining about how bored we were. At the time of this story, we were both 23. I had dated Brittany for about 4 years she was a cute girl, blonde, 5’10 and kept herself in pretty good shape.
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