Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Turmoil 12: Strings

by Ludwig

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© Copyright 2011 - Ludwig - Used by permission

Storycodes: MFFF; FF/f; latex; bond; gag; costume; tease; toys; mast; oral; climax; cons; X

continued from part 11

Chapter 12: Strings


She forced her eyes open, and although there wasn’t enough light in the room too be able to see clearly, she tried to reassure herself that this wasn’t just another bad dream by staring blindly into the dark to see if there was something real to comfort her. There was no point in moving until she was sure. A faint snoring noise and a familiar warmth on her left side, and a sweet, mature and unmistakably female fragrance with a slight hint of juniper in the air allayed her fears despite the darkness of the early hour. She had never felt that scent in her dreams. They were strangely odourless, nearly all of them. Not all of them. Not this one.

Without warning, tears wallowed into her burning eyes. The vague weightlessness she had sensed in her semi-conscious state, had vanished. A leaden, gruesome feeling came upon her like clouds obscuring the moonlight on a cold night. The nightmares were back, and she couldn’t see why. There was positively no reason why they were haunting her now. She was, after all, happier than she ever could remember being, she thought.

But if it all was to be taken away from her? No. This was not the time and place for thoughts like that. Her fingernails dug deep grooves in her palms as she tried to keep the tears back, but when she clamped her eyes shut, the images returned to her. Gradually, she began to feel and smell it all as well. She could no longer tell if they were only the smoke and mirrors of very vivid nightmares, or parts of memories that no longer wished to be remembered the way they were meant to, but they made her feel slowly ripped into pieces. They felt so real.

The distinct smell of new car, not very nice in the searing heat. Asphalt, seething petrol and sooty diesel exhausts. Old smells. Gitanes in the ashtray. The stickiness of sun-kissed vinyl of a front seat that her mother never lets her sit in when she’s driving. Cars passing by really, really close. Not fast. The feeling of being small when lorries pull up and brake noisily right next to her. A police car up front on the hard shoulder. Where’s dad?

She heard Alex giggle in her sleep, and fluid warmth entered her body from a point in the back of her neck and spread like ink in water inside her. Everything else faded into the grey darkness.

“Niamh. Wat ‘n leuke naam.”

The plush pillow muffled the words, but she could clearly hear every syllable. Now she’s talking too.

“Alexandra.” Niamh ventured, very silently without moving a muscle.

“Mooie meid.”

There was a loud, snuffling snore and Alex fell relatively silent again. Niamh was wide awake, wondering whether it was a good idea to fish any further for a mildly comprehensible response. Maybe she wouldn’t like what she heard. I’m such a fucking teenager. It’s four thirty and I’m already at it. The bad dream had already dissolved, and all that remained was a faint ticking in her head from the tension.

“Ze weet ‘t nog niet.”

Niamh suddenly bit her lip. What was that? She twisted around, dragging the sheet off the mattress, and nudged Alex on her shoulder to see if she was just pretending to sleep. The pillow hitting her face told her that was not the case, but now she had woken her up anyway. Alex covered her face and snarled, rolling away from her.

“You were talking in your sleep. Sorry.” she whispered meekly.

“Was not. Sod off. Too early.” 

End of conversation, Niamh thought. It was probably nothing. Now, there was no use trying to get back to sleep, but putting her feet on the floor without knitted socks on was not a viable option. She missed her ridiculous frog slippers, but they were probably in pieces by now thanks to Tim’s little friend. He always brought it with him when he looked after her flat, and she had never seen such a serial chewer of a dog before. A bit manic, just like Oscar.

The thought of Oscar dancing for her brought to mind the warm night on the footpath. That had been a strange experience. She was still curious about how it would feel to let Alex practise her skills in her nether hole without any interruptions. If she clenched her buttocks really hard, she could almost imagine slick rubber fingers gently pushing to get in. Ow. How did Terry manage to stuff that plug up her arse without getting sore? It still smarted quite a bit. Come to think of it, she felt a bit swollen on the other end as well. She wasn’t due until the fifteenth, so it couldn’t be that thing.

Without much enthusiasm, she moved her right hand down between her legs and tried to examine herself. Everything seemed all right, even though the whole area up to her navel was almost painfully sensitive as if it had been bruised or scalded, but still itching for the touch of gentle fingers. Wasn’t it always like this when she was expecting something exciting? A little more playfully, she pulled her labia, trying to fold and roll the tiny piece of skin between her fingers. She wondered if it might be a good idea to try a few piercings, since she had always liked the look of it as long as they were nicely done and not too overworked. Perhaps Alex would want her to wear a pretty gem down there. Probably she would just padlock the rings, if there were any, and hide the key. So much for that experience. On the other hand, it would still be worth it if there was a Swarovski stone crowning her tickler. A bit hard to impress people with it, though.

The static in her mind resurfaced, and she drifted off thinking about that summer day that possibly never was. What bothered her now, was that she actually remembered the number plate on the beige Cortina stuck between a delivery van and the frightening ERF lorry- the three letters were etched on her mind after seeing them on that huge black grille drawing closer in the rear view mirror- standing right beside the car she was in. Did those details sneak into ordinary dreams? Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t.

Music on the radio, too. She was almost certain that it was Brass in Pocket, but couldn’t remember which year it was on the charts. It faded, replaced by bland boutique bossa. The torture muzak again. Oh, right. Forgot to ask him about that.

Faint memories of heavy breathing and strained squeaks from an inflated toy made her smile briefly. Today’s forecast was yet another circus with a slight chance of nasty surprises, but all she could think of right now was breakfast. Her belly rumbled impatiently, and she hoped that André hadn’t used up all the fresh eggs.


The cat was sitting outside one of the kitchen windows, patiently waiting for André to put out the leftovers for her to enjoy, watching his every move as he emptied the dishwasher.

“Is it yours?” Niamh asked. She was trying to remove a few hard crumbs stuck under her left sock, leaning unsteadily against the table.

“The cat? No.” André carefully balanced a few large plates in his left hand as he opened a cupboard. Niamh thought he moved with the grace of a ballet dancer even when he bent down to wipe tomato sauce off the fridge. “She comes to visit from time to time, leaves the occasional vole on the doorstep and makes sure she gets a bite of what we’re having since nothing else will do.”

“You have too many demanding ladies running about.”

“I only have myself to blame.” he sighed, picking up a small bowl from the floor. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? I suspect a few demanding ladies might be wondering where you are right now.”

“Aren’t you going to act as my backstage immoral support today?”

André suddenly looked quizzical again, filling the bowl with something that attracted a lot of attention from the other side of the window.

“If it makes you feel safer, Nini. Just whistle, if you remember how to do...”

“Squeeze my cheeks together and blow? Right.”

Niamh flicked a few crumbs towards the sink and sighed. She probably shouldn’t let them wait for her much longer, but it was so nice just to hang around in the kitchen for a while. Alex did the same as soon as André was about to cook, so why couldn’t she?

“Will there be any music?”

“No.” André shook his head, watching the cat take off towards the door as he turned to open it. “No music. I’ll explain everything later, even if I don’t think it’ll make much sense to you anyway. Grouille-toi!”

Not a lot wiser, Niamh went to look for Alex. Stepping out of the kitchen was like bidding farewell to relative normality, and even if she felt the excitement and expectancy in the air, she was a bit afraid that she would end up being disappointed. She had no idea why, but there was always a myriad of things that actually could backfire. Anyhow, to have to deal with a disappointed Alex would still be even worse, so she picked up the pace.


The ‘dressing-room’ below André’s loft was still not warm enough to feel comfortable to change in, but Alex closed the door behind them in a most definite way. There were only the two of them there, and nothing seemed to be prepared except for something in a white plastic bag hanging next to the old mirror on the far wall.

A little surprisingly, Alex was wearing ordinary clothes, and Niamh looked with envy at her fluffy jersey when she was ordered to strip. For her, there wasn’t even a bathrobe to wear until she was ready to go upstairs, and the bag seemed too light to contain anything that would keep her warm. Champion.

“Am I the sole attraction in today’s show?” she put in a little grumpily, tossing her trousers onto the bench.

“No.” Alex picked her fingernails clean with the meticulousness of a person determined to make life very difficult for anyone annoying her. “Terry’s upstairs getting ready to show me a few things she’s been waiting to... perform, if you like, for quite some time. Perhaps you could say that you at least have an important part in that performance.”

“You’re letting her loose on me again, are you?”

“Shush. Put your little gift on. She specifically requested that you wore that.”

Niamh turned the plastic bag upside down and pulled out the bondage suit Theresa had sent her, and she immediately noticed that it had received a little extra care before ending up down here. Every single D-ring, zip and strap was neatly arranged, and the rubber almost glowed in spotless perfection. Jesus, Tee’s really putting her mind into this.

Alex watched her with great interest as she quickly wiggled into the suit to get out of the cold room as soon as possible. Niamh could swear that the goose pimples could be spotted from where she was standing having her first eyeful of the day, and the chilly touch of the suit didn’t exactly make things better. It left her arms and legs bare, and she tried to keep moving them to work up a little warmth until they got upstairs.

“I thought you’d join in from the start.” She breathed, gritting her teeth. “You won’t be hiding like Andy, will you?”

“Wasn’t that part of the original plan?” Alex chuckled. “No, sweetie; you know me much better than that. Don’t you worry, you’ll have your share. All in good time.” She ran her hands down the length of Niamh’s back, playing with a few of the metal attachments. “This’ll be a bit of inspiration for me, I think. Are we ready?”


The stairs were actually already beginning to feel like part of her own Via Dolorosa, even if it was only the fourth or fifth time she set foot in them, and the fact that she wouldn’t bother trying to please neither of the others if she didn’t enjoyed at least some of the games very much indeed. There was such a thing as too much input, though, and she hadn’t finished digesting Friday night yet. She crossed her fingers, hoping for a gentle take-off this time.

As it appeared when she caught sight of Theresa waiting for them both, it was at least going to be a rather different start. Niamh tried not to simper, but it was hard to avoid staring at the marionette-like apparition swirling in the warm light.

Theresa had chosen a Harajuku outfit out of her own special collection, and Niamh was convinced that any hardcore cosplay fan would bounce head first down the stairs and then up again at the sight of her. She made a perfect two-tone gothic Lolita down to the smallest detail, no doubt about it. Niamh wondered how much effort she had put down into making that. She noticed with growing amazement that it was all made out of very fine latex, even the gut-churningly cute little bonnet adorning her head.

Her make-up literally was the icing on the cake. Niamh barely recognised her face beneath the carefully applied mask of slightly concussed innocence. Gone Japanese, back to normal when the show’s over. It’s either the academy or the asylum for her. What a girl.

“She really looks good in everything.” Alex whispered tonelessly behind her shoulder. “Be nice now. Bear with us for a while.”

Niamh detected the well-concealed promise of a reward in the short phrases, as well as the nearly subliminal threat of shock treatment. She instinctively looked for the oblong case on the set, but couldn’t see it. Instead, she found herself staring right into Theresa’s face as she playfully squeezed her right nipple through the suit.

“Remember me?” Theresa tittered. “Come here, give us a kiss.”

Fucking hell, she’s blackened a tooth as well. A tooth!

Niamh was gently pushed onto what felt like a exercise mat placed under the canvas, and she turned her head to watch Theresa pick up a coil of the white rope she had seen André roll up the other day. Ho yus, here we go. Truss me up and call me Piggy.

“You know,” Theresa smacked her tongue as she unrolled the rope, “I have a feeling you won’t mind this at all.”

“I have a feeling my opinion doesn’t count right now.”

 Alex quickly quenched a comment. She slumped into a chair and made herself comfortable with a loud sigh, and Niamh tried to remember to keep her mouth shut. There was an imminent danger of losing precious skin on her behind otherwise.

“You’ll like it. I asked ma’am if I could show you both a little kinbaku. I’m a bit of novice myself, still, but I’m learning.”

“You’re about to give beginner’s courses, aren’t you?” Alex asked a little casually, without taking her eyes off of Niamh.

“Well, I was thinking about getting something together, at least. Oh, don’t she look like you want to eat her in that, or wha’?”

Niamh felt her face redden and she had to look away. She wished she had something to stuff in her ears to avoid the bizarre clash of Japanese visuals and pretty salty Essex audio. She wasn’t left alone for long. Eager little fingers wandered over her back, playing with a few D-rings, making them jingle.

“It’s much more interesting than western bondage, I think. Even though you get the more or less the same hiccups if you don’t watch out.” Theresa went on. “Sometimes patients tend to forget to tell about certain medical conditions, which might be a real bugger once you’ve got them in a neat parcel. Women tend to be much less fuss, and that’s partly why I like this better. ”

Niamh didn’t like the sound of her voice at all. Patient? Her arms were deftly pulled back, and she could feel the light touch of smooth rope on her wrists and elbows.

“Of course you’ve all the phobias to consider, too. If, say, you’re afraid of confined spaces this ain’t your thing, exactly. She’s not, you know...”


“Sorry, love.” Theresa said, pulling the ropes a bit harder. “You’re all right with that then, if you know what I mean?”

“Try me.” Sorry my arse. Guess who’s laying her hands on the taser thingy as soon as she gets loose, love.

 Theresa showed a surprising efficiency, handling the thin ropes like she had been through this routine a hundred times, and Niamh could do nothing but trying to stay on her feet as her whole upper body was quickly rendered totally immobile in a perfectly crafted cobweb. It didn’t hurt that much, but it was like having lost two limbs, which felt a little uncanny. A light push and a foot in the back of her knee was enough to make her stumble and fall onto the mat.

“There. We’re halfway through. What do you think, ma’am?”

Niamh watched Theresa pick up a thick, black rubber hood from the floor and show to Alex. That was something she definitely didn’t feel like playing with right now, and she shook her head. Alex recognised her signals with a slight wink.

“Go on. Skip that thing; I want to see her eyes.”

Instead, Theresa scuttled off and returned with a vicious-looking harness gag, which Alex approved of with a slightly sinister smile.

There was no use fighting Theresa as she quickly strapped the gag in place, but Niamh tried anyway. She would have bit her fingers if she had been a little less careful, but since there was just a thick rubber muzzle covering her mouth, Theresa didn’t need to risk her cute, frilly gloves by inserting a ball. Why, cheers. Better than bloody duct tape, though.

Alex chuckled a little when Theresa rolled Niamh over on her stomach, weighing her down like a show wrestler.

“Please leave her feet alone now, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. She’ll be ready in a mo.”

“No need to rush.”

When the last bit of the second length of rope ended up between her legs, putting quite some pressure right in her groin as she struggled to find a less awkward position, Niamh growled into her gag. Now, her ankles were firmly tied to her thighs and she could barely move at all. A tiny drop of sweat stung in her eye, and she hoped that Alex wouldn’t let things slip much further. Surely, it was her turn to step into the picture now, she thought.

The only thing she was able to see was a familiar pair of feet stepping closer, but then nothing more happened. She tried to roll over, but her rocking motions only served to tightening the ropes even further. What looked like a pair of sunflower seeds landed on the off-white canvas next to her, and she thought she could hear a distinct munching sound from above.

“I simply have to learn those tricks. Fabulous.”

“It’s a bit harder to do with those ropes. André said I’d have to use those instead of the real ones tonight, ‘cause...well...” Theresa hesitated. Niamh grinned behind her gag. “But it’s really easy once you get the hang of it. Like crochet, or wrapping presents. Much more fun, though.”

“There’s a thought.” Alex hummed. She nearly spilled a few seeds right into Niamh’s right eye when she bent down on her knees beside her. “How are you, dear? Does it feel all right?”

Niamh gave a loud snort and tried to shake her head.

“Gift-wrapped, eh? I like that. The good thing is that you don’t have to open it up to play with it. You can actually have your cake and eat it for once, which I think is sensational.”

A loud rustling noise made whimper loudly in alarm, but she only felt the plastic brush past her cheek as Alex dropped the bag on the floor. She picked up the spilled seeds and carefully put them in the bag, one by one. Before she got to her feet, she leaned closer to Niamh’s ear and whispered silently.

“Just messing with your head, girl. Don’t let the minions get to you that easily.”

A quick kiss landed on the muzzle, and then Alex sprang to life, brushing her knees.

“Bye for now, sweetie. We’ll leave you here a little while, but we’ll be back soon. Terry...”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Help her to get on her back, or on the side if it’s easier for her. The canvas is rather dusty, as you can see, and I don’t want her to have her face right into it. Got it?”

Wait a minute. Where are you going?  Niamh tried to make eye contact with Theresa as she rolled her over on her back, but she found herself staring up under her skirt instead. Woop! Ahoy, sailor.  There was a convenient aperture in the crotch of her romantic, white frilly bloomers, showing off pretty much of her interesting parts, but what caught Niamh’s immediate attention was another type of harness fastened around her waist and upper legs under her skirt. A vital piece was still missing.

Before she could get her head around what was going on, Theresa tiptoed away, and Niamh was left alone. She tried to listen for them, but gave up after a few minutes. The drone of a heating fan was all she could hear.

Did Alex really think she was doing her a favour by rolling her over like that? Now, her weight pressed down on her arms behind her back, and it wasn’t that comfortable. It was a bit dusty, though. She was right about that. Her nose tickled a little, and she knew it would become a real nuisance within seconds if she couldn’t do anything about it.

Suddenly, she felt a massive sneeze building up. There was no way of avoiding it, so she tried to aim her nose a bit to the south to keep the mess away from her. Oh, this wasn’t going to be much fun.

The violent eruption surprised her, and it was closely followed by another, then a third and a fourth one. Her head spun, and the bubbles in her limbs and chest nearly hurt. When she tried to catch her breath, she discovered that her nose was all bunged up.

It was possible to breathe through her mouth a few times, until her saliva made the rubber gag stick to her lips. She had to concentrate hard to be able not to breathe too fast, making her nostrils clog up totally, but only a few times until her saliva made the rubber gag stick to her lips. Mucus creeping down her throat almost made her retch, and she felt miserable. This was definitely not a thing she would try again anytime soon.

The floorboards under the mat moved a little, and Niamh sensed the presence of another person walking very silently towards her. She rolled back facing the shadows, whimpering pleadingly.

“Oh, that didn’t sound very nice. Here…” André mumbled, holding up a handkerchief. “Blow your nose. And let’s remove that nasty gag for a while.”

André the saviour, Niamh thought as she did her very best impression of a small but boisterous elephant. If only those blokes knew what they were missing. She recognised the touch of fine linen, and almost regretted sticking her snotty nose in it. He could have picked a paper towel, but no. He even made sure that every trace was gone from her face and the gag.

“Tu as envie d'éternuer encore?” 

“Again?” she croaked. “No. That was really icky! Thank you!”

“You must have what we call an allergie japonais.”

“Mwahaha. Ouch…” Niamh tried to relax a few muscles beginning to form the opinion that she actually was developing an allergy against this kind of bondage.

“It doesn’t hurt, I hope. Theresa knows how to do it right.”

“Yeah? Tell me again in an hour. And just so you know, it’ll be you I’ll come to when I need someone to knead me later.”

“Can’t do, Nini. You mustn’t ask me to give you a massage. I’ll only start playing with your titties, and madame will take offense.”

“Insert laughter here. God knows I’d let you, boyo. I’ll tell her to stuff it.”

“Hm.”  André blushed, smiling a little primly. “Well, well. I guess we’ll see about that.” He carefully put the muzzle back into place, and patted her on her cheek. “Next time, just whistle. Don’t sneeze.”

 Niamh sighed. At least she felt much better, thanks to him, and that was worth a lot. No wonder customers confided their secrets to him without even blinking, she thought. He was a natural. Anyone able to lead Alex by the nose was worthy of deepest respect. Anyone nice enough to wipe her nose in situations like these, well, that was bloody marriage material.


Several minutes later, Theresa re-emerged from out of the shadows. Niamh noticed that she had a broad smile on her face, which didn’t seem to fit the picture. Neither did the thing sticking out from under her frilly skirt. Oh, no. That’s just ridiculous.

Niamh stared at the 10-inch violet tool jutting out from Theresa. She didn’t like strap-ons very much, and this one didn’t convince her either. She’s not going to fuck me with that. Never.

Strangely enough, she seemed satisfied strutting around the mat a few times, checking on her ‘patient’. Niamh suspected she was actually waiting for Alex to give her the word. This was getting seriously confusing, she thought. Now, obviously, Terry suddenly was allowed to do things to her that meant actual sexual contact. That was not kosher. She must have misunderstood something. Alex would never let her do that, and she would sure as hell fight back, too. There was no way that she would get close to her with that thing, and how was she going to work this out with all the rope?

“I asked nicely for permission...” Theresa tweeted in a sickly sweet voice, “ play with you a little all by myself.”

Niamh closed her eyes.

“I’ll loosen the rope a bit, so you can kneel. Don’t worry.”

She wants me on my knees. That means...oh...

It proved surprisingly easy to sit up with a little help from Theresa, even if it was terribly annoying to have the dildo nudging the back of her neck meanwhile. She was more or less stuck in the kneeling position, since the ropes still held her down, but it was a relief to be able to move at least a little. She was also grateful that someone had thought of cushioning the canvas. I do hope you put in on the tab, André. I owe you plenty by now.

Theresa placed herself in front of her and carefully removed her gag. Niamh reacted to the heady aroma of nearly diaphanous and probably rather expensive rubber, and the unmistakable whiff of Very Excited Girl. She didn’t think it smelled anywhere near as heavenly as Alex. This mix didn’t trigger her off by default because there was a tangible difference.

She was still interested in the dress Theresa was wearing because of how marvellous it looked on that petite body. It was a bit too much for her style-wise, but she admired the handiwork and the deep gloss. A bit like latex on holiday, if there even was an idea of such a thing. Black and white suited Terry quite well, and she had to admit the whole appearance was appetising. The question was if it was enticing enough to give head for.

“You remember how the boys liked it?” Theresa breathed, stroking the dildo against Niamh’s cheek. “Now, do it for me. Kiss it.”

A few seconds passed until Niamh gave in, tentatively moving her lips from the tip up along the shaft. The look on Theresa’s face was priceless, but she still felt really awkward. She guessed that she was meant to feel like that. Best to let her have her way. I bet our ma’am is watching.

As long as she was left to do it at her own pace without getting the thing shoved down her throat, it was rather okay, she thought. It wasn’t the least bit thrilling and the dong tasted like licking a remote control, which made her mouth a bit dry, but she continued nevertheless.

Theresa began breathing heavily, thrusting her hips a little for each time the shaft disappeared between her lips. A wicked thought crossed Niamh’s mind, and she decided to raise the stakes a little. Instead of just listlessly licking the dreary dong, she set off trying to do it the sleazy way. It certainly was a thing that had worked for her friends in secondary school, when they wanted things over with quite quickly.

Making little moaning noises, she started slobbering away heavily, letting strings of saliva glisten in sticky threads from her lips between the bouts. Fortunately, she thought, there were no signs of any pictures being taken this time. Theresa already trembled at her knees, panting profusely. You little porn-crazed twat, you. Having fun yet?

A careless plunge caused Niamh to remember how sensitive her gag reflex was, and she withdrew quickly, but without letting anything on. It was time for a little encouragement anyway.

“Feels good, yeah?”


She nearly burst out laughing at the look of Theresa. It really seemed as if she could feel her suck the spare part. This was getting better.

“Do you want to come?” Niamh teased, flicking the glans with her tongue.

“Oh yeah.”

A sudden, sneaking suspicion that there was more to this little game than she had realised made Niamh take a closer look at the dildo. She had a hunch Theresa would add more Asian specialities if she didn’t watch out. Perhaps there was a surprise for her right in front of her eyes?

Slowly letting her tongue amble around the base, she carefully examined it. There seemed to be nothing special with it. No fakie bollocks that could possibly contain something, just a rear end that appeared to vanish into Theresa. It felt rather uncomfortable to have her face so close to her turgid, moist sex, clearly visible through the widened aperture in her bloomers. She backed off, casting a theatrically seductive glance at Theresa looking down on her with her eyes half closed. Her hands were lazily tracing the outline of her breasts. Quite a show for the presumed two pairs of eyes in the audience, Niamh thought.

Before she could be certain that there was to be no unexpected incident, she probed the tip of the dildo with her tongue and bit down on it quite hard. It appeared to be solid, and there was no tiny hole for anything to escape. So far, so good.

Niamh began to wonder how long she could keep this act up. How long would Terry last? She decided to give her a few more minutes, and then she had to come up with something good. It wasn’t that hard to pretend if she looked her in the eyes every now and then, watching how she gradually got closer to losing control. Considering that she didn’t have to put her face in forbidden muff, or get shagged by the possessor of aforesaid muff with a violet toy, it was quite an agreeable situation after all. Although, someone could have thought of putting a flavoured condom on the thing before stuffing it in her face.

When she thought of it, she doubted that she had ever serviced anyone in this way before. The closest she had been was when Pete Monaghan received the nightmare wank of his life behind the record shop. She was thirteen, unaware that she was supposed to stop when the white stuff stopped coming. She still remembered how he whimpered when she nearly ripped off that little string of skin, tugging like a washerwoman. But I think he liked it, anyway.

“Oh, Gooodd.”

Niamh was a bit relieved to hear that she was almost done. The constant rocking made the rope cut into her unmentionables through the suit. It wouldn’t have been very pleasant without it, she thought.

“Come on, let me see some…” Niamh tried. She was not really cut out to be a porn actress, she thought, although some of them sounded more like librarians than she did.   

It worked on Theresa, which was all that mattered. She lost her footing, tottered backwards, missed a chair and landed pretty hard on the floor. Still far from satisfied, she quickly pulled off the harness and unfastened the dildo. Niamh bit her lip when she witnessed nearly the whole length disappearing into the bloomers. That could have been her, she thought.

Trying to negotiate her cumbersome restraints, tipping down on the side to relieve the strain on her back, Niamh enjoyed the little diversion of Theresa frantically trying to reach climax. It was a good show with the candid bits tastefully obscured by fluffy frills, and plenty of sound effects.

How does she get the whole thing in? Niamh shuddered a little as Theresa got her second wind and began working faster. It was impossible to repress her arousal any longer, and her heart raced out of pure sympathy by now. She was longing for something really intense.

“Closer.”  she hissed. “Come closer.”

Theresa looked up, utterly surprised, but didn’t waste a second before she crept closer faster than a little spider, with the dildo still lodged within her and an incredulous, faint smile on her face.

Her breath was hot, slightly sour, and her eyes showed a burgeoning hunger for more than the touch of simple toys and her own fingers as she nestled against Niamh.

“Much better.” Theresa whispered, dangerously close to daring a very inappropriate caress.

Transfixed, Niamh followed her every move. She wondered if she had taken this a step too far, but trusted Alex to sort it out quickly if something would happen. Surely, this was pushing the boundaries, but she refused to be a passive dodo even if they stringed her up like a puppy. This was wicked. To hear the little wet noises and her ragged breathing, and see her eyes slowly getting dim. To feel.    

She couldn’t help but groaning a little when Theresa started convulsing next to her, unable to contain herself. Niamh knew instinctively how she felt when she was caught up in the violent vortex, drifting away from her. Oh, how she wished that she wouldn’t have to wait as long as she suspected to feel the same.

It was over all too soon. Theresa lay spent beside her, breathing heavily and trembling with the exertion. The throbbing in her ears faded to the echo of heels against wood. A polite applause, and the sound of smoky laughter.

“Beautiful! Thank you, girls.”

Alex was behind her back. She couldn’t see her, but she noticed the instant flash of guilt and embarrassment in Theresa’s eyes as she turned towards the voice. Well, now it gets weird again. How come she feels bad about it?

The familiar snaps and creaks when Alex knelt down revealed that she had changed into the first uniform of choice for the day, which essentially meant that she now maybe had different views on what was previously agreed upon as appropriate conduct. Changing her mind was her privilege, of course, but Niamh felt sorry for Theresa if she was blamed for stepping out of line.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. It seemed like a lot of fun.”

Something’s coming. Wait for it... Niamh felt a chilly, gloved hand touch her right shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Did you like that last bit better, schat? Yes, you did, didn’t you.” Alex continued, turning to Theresa. “You know, she really loves to watch. Both me, and us together as well. One of her favourite things is to watch herself in the mirror when I masturbate her.”

Niamh nearly bit her tongue, mortified. Oh, go ahead, by all means. Theresa eyed her coyly and showed her the blackened tooth smile. In an instant, all the tension had dissipated from her. Alex made it seem so easy.

“The truth is, I‘m a bit like that, too. It was quite a nice show you put up.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You seemed to have a simply wonderful orgasm. How was it?”

“Beyond words, ma’am.”

  The hand on Niamh’s back moved, and she felt the ropes loosen. Alex knew more about how to untie the few simple knots than she had let Theresa know.

“Good. Now go get yourself cleaned up and changed. I’ll take care of everything here.” she said. “I’ll expect you back here in... shall we say twenty five minutes? Fine, then.”


A little while later they were alone in the pool of light. Alex had made herself comfortable in the remaining chair, with Niamh sitting at her feet, resting her head in her lap. Two lengths of white rope lay strewn around them on the canvas like bland remnants of something that had taken place somewhere else than in this relative stillness.

Not a single mark was left on Niamh’s skin, but she could still feel the pressure of the bonds on her body. Her mind was in a state of mellow confusion, but there really was no point in trying to explaining how she felt; or ask silly questions right now. Everything became easier when she only had to lay her head down for a while.

With a contemplating look on her face, Alex silently sighed while brushing her fingers over the closely cropped hair in Niamh’s neck. There was a certain air of relief about her.

Did she put herself to the test? It struck Niamh that even though it must have been quite something to watch, their little game must have made Alex a little ill at ease.

“Are you feeling all right?” she asked cautiously.

“Oh. Yes. Yes, I am, thank you.” Alex gave a little laugh. “How about yourself?”

“Much better here, without those ropes.” Niamh moved closer to her. “Though I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m constantly about to fuck things up, and it bothers me.”

The gloved fingers ruffled her hair into a static mess.

“You’ve been wonderful considering how hard we keep pushing you. Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I think we know each other pretty well in that sense.” Alex smiled. “We can always make amends later, and really reassure each other...”

“It was much more fun when it was us two against her, or just you and me with her a bit on the side, if you know what I mean...”

“Well, that’s music to my ears, dear. I think you mean ‘safer’ as well, don’t you? No need to worry, I’m way ahead of you there. Just you wait and see.”


* * *



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