Wrapped

“You will start double plugged, slip into your suit and your hood. Tighten up your corset - the leather one. You will have locked your cuffs on your wrists. You will sit on the edge of the bed, slide the blindfold of your hood down across your eyes, finally you will ease the breath through gag into your mouth. And wait.”

****

Is it five minutes or ten or more? You aren't sure but eventually you hear the key in the lock. You hear me approach but the room is dark and your blindfold lets no light in.

The room is silent, not a word is spoken. You feel your arms being crossed in front of you. The clicks as you feel your cuffs being ziplocked to the side of your corset are all that break the silence. 

Two quick pumps on the bulb of the plug and I can hear you moan through the gag. Good. 

I ease you onto your feet and slide down onto my knees. I start to wind the film round your ankles and calves. 

The film winds up and up above your knees and up your thighs. There are many, many layers now. As it nears your crotch you feel something being eased between the top of your thighs; resting on your clit. The film wrapped tightly round your bottom now holds the new presence there keenly.

****

The tension waiting for you to arrive is palpable. As usual there had been last minute panics - the zip wouldn't pull up without a gargantuan effort, where the hell are the batteries for the plug?? But finally I'm ready, dressed as requested of me in your email, perched on the edge of my bed, blindfold down, room in darkness, waiting. 

A shudder of delight as I hear the door click open. The early warning system that was my front gate was finally oiled some weeks back. I can tell you are in the hall - what are you doing? I try to visualise you taking off your jacket, slipping off your shoes, rummaging through your bag for your props for today. And then you're in my room. I know you see me smiling and it's all I can do to stay seated and not jump up and grab hold of you. A warm, gentle, smooth hand runs over my hooded head, fingertips play across my lips. Game on...

My lips reach out for a kiss but don't find you. Then I feel my hands being moved into position, secured in front of me so I'm hugging myself. Where is this going? And then my ankles are being pulled together and I feel something wrapping them tightly. Not just my ankles - you are gradually working right the way up my legs. I'm a little nervous, but the trust is there, it's always there. I breathe deeply and try to move to make this easy for you. I achieve nothing more than a slight topple forward and I hear you laugh lightly as you catch an stabilise me.  I giggle. I want to much to speak to you but it feels like that isn't in the rules right now. I blow a kiss, stay quiet, consider my predicament. Whatever this stuff is, it's warm. I'm guessing it's clingfilm. I can't hear that much through the hood but it sounds about right. I'm smiling quietly as I imagine how I must look, a vacuum packed rubber doll - when I feel something being wrapped tightly against my crotch. There is only one thing that feels like that. Shit, it's the wand. I groan - and you wrap it in there a little tighter...

****

You realise it is the wand, it's now jutting out at right angles to you. Quickly the wrap moves up your torso pinning your arms close to your body. Next you feel it wrap tightly round your neck. It rises high up your head and begins to cover your face. Soon there is nothing left on show but your latex encased feet, the tube of your breathe through gag and your ponytail poking out the top.

You feel my hands return to your bottom a sharp pump and you feel the vibe in your ass come to life. I ease you down on to the bed behind you, arranging you lengthways on it. I can see the tension building inside of you. There is an atmosphere in the room. The anticipation from both of us is electric. 

I trail the cord of the wand over to the side of the bed and plug it in. I flick on the switch, starting it on low... Already I can see your body start to twitch. 

The timer is on; it will come to life every 15 minutes. I ease out of the room to watch what follows unfold on webcam... 

****

The mummification amplifies the buzzing starting in my ass from the plug. Whilst I'm getting lost in the sensation I realise that the wrap has reached the top of my neck and if now serving to hold my breathing tube firmly in place. Panic sets in, I go to wriggle and then think better of it. I'm OK - I can breathe, you're there, stay still, damn that buzzing is good. A sharp intake of breath as the plug inflates arousing shivers up my back and a jerk of my body. Wryly I begin to question whether sub is the smartest role in this partnership. I can picture the look of concentration on your face as you've been encasing your rubber doll. The wicked glint when you hit the vibe and the pump simultaneously. I'm wondering if you're as aroused as I am right now and how long can you hold out for? I, clearly, won't have a choice in the matter! You are utterly in control on this one.

I feel you holding me and relax into your arms as you place me on the bed. I consider my position. So far it isn't so bad - true I can't actually move and I'm starting to sweat, but I'm relatively comfortable, the plug feels really good, I quietly hope you'll add another couple of inflates to it as the vibration is relaxing me making a fuller feeling ever more tempting. But I'm forgetting your friend. I hear a click, and then a second as the wand explodes into life. It's sudden, perfectly placed and utterly inescapable. And as I jerk around on the bed, all at once trying to draw it in closer and escape its vibrations, I have the sense that you might not be in the room any more. 

****

Your iPhone is broadcasting video via skype to your laptop which I've hooked up to the tv. I slip down onto the sofa to watch the outcome of my labour.

This could be a challenge - sitting here, watching, knowing you are just in the next room. But I'm determined to let the cycle run at least twice before I sneak back through. 

The first few minutes are fun as you squirm like a seal, testing your bindings. Eventually, though, the wand wins and you start to twitch and flinch and jerk to its tune. All too soon, though, the first 15 minute cycle is complete and your body slumps into a post orgasmic state. 

The next minutes pass slowly, I assume for you it seems like hours... The occasional roll as the plug continues to buzz inside your ass.

I manage to resist the urge to come through and eventually I see the first twitch from your groin as the wand kicks into life again. 

My cue. I pad through, eager to ensure you don't hear me arrive. 

The first thing you realise is the increase in power from the wand as I switch it onto maximum. Next you realise I am pinching the tube of your gag leaving you to struggle for breath as the orgasm inside you builds and builds. The air in your plug is released but is quickly replaced, returning with interest. 

For the next 10 minutes your plug and the wand are your enemy. As i tease you relentlessly it feels like you orgasm 3 or 4 times.

Finally the timer kicks out. I release the air from your plug and turn the wand off. There is drool coming out the side of your gag. You haven't even tried to speak yet.

The next few minutes I lie beside you stroking your wrap covered body. Holding you through the "I need out moments," eventually you can feel my hands rolling you onto your front. Straddling you I ease you up onto your haunches, and up so you are on your knees...

****

Where the fuck are you? The question flicks through my mind as I fight against my bindings (pushing against them feels wonderful - futile but wonderful, you did a diligent wrapping job) and against the tingling, white-ice burning sensation sending bolts from my clit to every part of my body and the full length of my spine. I can't escape it, I can't even work with it. Sooner or later I have to let it take over. And it does. Violent, electrifying orgasms shake my body. And there is none of the usual feeling of release, openness, comfort afterwards as the protagonist is still there, still vibrating, demanding another, and another. Time becomes ever more vague as I twitch and rock on the bed. I have a fleeting thought about falling off - it's gone in an instant as the next wave takes over. And then suddenly it stops. Ha - timer switch. Nice touch, unless I've just fused the flat, I muse through my post orgasmic haze.

I'm drifting, not into sleep, but not entirely conscious. As I come round I gradually become aware of my situation. I am so warm, sweat everywhere inside my latex suit. These things were not made for hot climates I think grimly. And I'm lying at an odd angle - the pillow isn't where it should be. I make a few pointless seal-pup movements to try to straighten up. No chance. And then I remember, I don't think you're there. Really, where the hell are you??

I make muted enquiries through my gag - no response. My pulse is rising now, I am aware enough to feel I'm in a predicament and the thought of the timer switch is starting to concern me. It wouldn't be like you to let me go with just one burst and I'm just not ready for another... Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. As if mocking me the wand springs back into action and I'm on the rollercoaster again. In my head I see fire crackers, white light, open space, unbearable, irresistible tingles fill me again and then - I gasp as the vibration kicks up to full pelt. You're back! But as I gasp, I realise - I can't. Something - sorry someone - is blocking my tube. Now I really panic, thrashing my head against the irrational fear (I know you'll keep me safe) and the monstrous orgasm about to wipe me out. And then, holy crap, the plug is inflated as well!! I career into sub space, can't cope with the noise going on in every nerve in my body. Twitching, jerking, moaning, shrieking, wishing it would end and never end, all at once.

I become aware that it's all stopped. It's all stopped and you are beside me. I want to hug you, kiss you and slap you in equal measure. The most phenomenal feelings of trust and love sweep over me. I am embarrassed to realise I hope you filmed it, I can't imagine what that must have looked like. Don't ever let me go... But I need this plug out. NEEED. You wrap your arms firmly around me, reassuring, compelling me to let it go, trust it will be fine, accept that you are still in charge here. The urge to escape passes. And then I'm lifted to my knees. It's not over yet, it seems.

****

My hands are around your face now, and you sigh with relief as you feel the gag being pulled from your mouth... Only to be replaced by the tip of my penis. I know how much you want this... My hands are firmly grasping your ponytail and the back of your head...

Slowly the pace builds each time I go deeper into your mouth. With your nose covered each time I enter your mouth you can't breathe. Faster and deeper now... You feel the plug in your ass grow and then with a start the wand kicks in again.

Your mouth envelops me fully, sucking me in, your tongue works furiously. I hold my breath, awaiting the inevitable. You are losing control now your body jerking again finally I come hard, my juices coating your mouth and tongue. 

I ease out of you, flicking the wand off once more and deflating the plug. I lay you back on the bed, and hold you for a few moments. I take the scissors that lie by the bed and start to snip you free of your bonds.

Eventually after what seems like 20 minutes or more your legs are free. All that remains is to cut the cable ties holding your arms cuffed to your sides. I pull you up, returning you to the position I found you in. A gag is returned to your mouth, you groan as you hear the lock on the back of your suit click close. 

Next you feel something being pushed into your hands. You blindly feel to see what it is... The scissors! Before you realise what is happening you hear the distinct sound of the front door closing. I have gone.

You struggle to reach the ties, but eventually you snip first one then the other... Your arms ache but you manage to lift them to remove the blindfold.

Around you, you see the remains of the evening’s entertainment. On the bedside table you see the keys to the gag and the cuffs, a candle is burning, diminishing the overpowering smell of sweat and latex which surrounds you. The clock ticking indicates you have been bound like this for over 3 hours. As always time has been on fast forward. Next to it sits a single flower and a small card, inside of which lies a single x and the words "see you next time".

****

Reassuring hands cup my face and the ache in my jaw suddenly eases as the breathing gag is removed. I half laugh, half choke as it goes and search for the kiss that I've been longing for since you first arrived. A kiss, or... Mmmmmm, I grin as my lips brush what I know isn't your lips. I'm wrecked and trembling but I love this. My mouth opens wide and warm as it welcomes you inside. You taste so good. My throat relaxes, letting you ever deeper inside, as my tongue flicks and I gasp for breath between thrusts. And then - bloody hell, everything is buzzing again!! I try not to bite involuntarily as I struggle to hold onto reality and balance and rhythm as I wildly suck and flick and drool... and I know you're close because I can sense you holding your breath, grasping, keeping it together for just as long as you can.

Like it only does in the films, we come at the same time, me shuddering and jerking, you with a contented groan and a sudden explosion which floods my mouth and leaves stray drops escaping from my lips. Enough. Enough enough enough. You lie me down, shut down the toys, hold me like we'll never be apart. And as I'm drifting into a contented snooze I become aware that my legs are being freed. I mumble my appreciation, over-using 'I love you' and still not nearly matching up to how I feel. Piece by piece I can feel my field of movement extending, until finally all the wrapping must be gone. I smile, wonder what you're going to make for dinner while I recover. I'm lifted back up to sitting on the bed side.

I'm sitting. Just cut the ties and I can thank you properly. What a session. I am tired and loved-up, desperate to finally hold you. Just cut the ties babe. Mmmfph - a gag is swiftly thrust into my mouth. Eh? And with a click - wait, did you just lock my suit on? You locked it??! Something hard is pushed into my hand, you fold my fingers firmly round it. Jesus - is that scissors? You can't seriously be expecting... I mmfph and wriggle my objection but my balance isn't there and I almost slip from the bed. Worse still, the scissors almost slip from my hand. This couldn't get worse. And then it does. Click - the front door. That was definitely the front door. Son of a bitch, surely you wouldn't...? Nooooooo! Bastardingsonofacuntingwhorewhatthefuckhaveyoudone?? and other choice phrases batter through my head. If I cut my suit there will be fuckin hell to pay.

The worst part - the absolute worst part - is that I'm fighting back giggles because I am absolutely clear in my mind’s eye about the huge, mischievous, triumphant grin on your lips as you pulled the front door shut deliberately loudly behind you. After what seems like an age and much swearing, trying to balance the scissors against the edge of the bed and let's face it hacking my way through tough nylon with inadequate kitchen scissors ("He might as well have left me with a fuckin teaspoon!") my left hand is freed. The right one is released easily after that. I sit for a moment, contemplating the turn of the afternoon and then cautiously raise my blindfold. Utter carnage. Everywhere there are scraps of clingfilm, discarded lube, the plug, gags... and then my eyes catch the bedside table. A lone iris - strong, elegant, the deepest blue. And a card. I open it, read the brief message, fall back onto the bed weeping in pleasure and heartache in equal measure, clutching the card and flower to my chest.

And then I stop. I grin. I get up, swiftly clear away the crime scene, shower, dress in some rather splendid underwear. And I wait. I do not text, I do not call. I figure 2 hours tops should do it. 

I'm right. You may have had a big grin when you left, but an hour on and nothing to evidence that your damsel has been able to free herself. Nah, you try to shrug it off. It will be fine, she's pretty flexible. 

But another 30 minutes pass. This isn't right, she always texts. Or emails. Or both, actually. No cryptic messages on Twitter, no giggly phone message. You start to worry. I mean proper worry. And two hours after you pulled the flat door shut behind you, you call.

It's more than a little cruel, but I don't answer. I sit with my mobile in my hand as it tries as hard as it can to persuade me to pick up. You ring off. Then three minutes later you call again. And again. And again. I count 5 calls in all, plus 2 texts and 3 calls to the land line. And then what I've been waiting for - I hear the front door click open and finally I get to hold you in my arms.

The end.

15.08.11