B Is For Bondage - A To Z Sex Series Read online

  B Is For BONDAGE

  A to Z Sex Series: Book B

  J.L. Hugh

  Published in ebook format by North Shore Fiction

  Copyright © 2012 by North Shore Fiction

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by North Shore Fiction

  B Is For BONDAGE

  A to Z Sex Series: Book B

  Danielle is on holiday break from college and goes home to visit her parents when the neighbor, Mr. Thompson, offers to loan her a better rake so she can finish her yard work. Danielle ventures into Mr. Thompson’s garage searching for the tool when he leaves on an errand only to find row after row of bondage gear hanging in plain sight.

  Danielle runs her hand over the smooth, sensuous surface of a black leather strap and fantasies flood back into her mind of secretly watching Mr. Thompson tie up his girlfriend and spank her. Suddenly, Danielle is jolted back to reality as Mr. Thompson finds her in the garage fingering his gear.

  Mr. Thompson knows that Danielle has secretly watched his bondage room in the past and decides that this young upstart needs a lesson in proper bondage gear handling and a reminder to ask permission before touching things that don’t belong to her.

  Adults only. This story contains explicit BDSM, bondage, domination/submission, spanking and punishment. All characters are consenting adults and are over 18 years of age.

  B Is For Bondage

  A to Z Sex Series: Book B

  Chapter 1

  Brown leaves swirled after the car as Danielle drove up the familiar street. The neat row of houses looked exactly the same as it did when she left but everything was so different now. She had successfully completed her first semester of college and was coming home for the holidays. A school bus turned the corner in front of her and memories of high school flooded her mind. Even though it had been less than a year, high school seemed a lifetime ago.

  A few months of college had given her a new perspective on life and meeting new friends had given her some life experience. Some sexual experience too, she smiled to herself. Several frat parties had led to some late night testing of the bed springs. College boys were great with their energy and heat-seeking missiles they kept in their pants. She quickly realized though, it was over all too soon with them and they had no real experience.

  She pulled the car into the driveway of her parents’ house and turned off the ignition, pausing for a moment to reminisce. The basketball hoop, the same faded Christmas wreath on the front door, the four-wheel drive Jeep in Mr. Thompson’s driveway next door that he used on the weekends to go mud-bogging.

  Mr. Thompson and Danielle had a long and torrid history together. The problem was, he didn’t know about it. Danielle’s bedroom window looked into the den in his house and two years ago she had discovered that she could see inside. A narrow space between the curtains and window allowed her to see what Mr. Thompson did to his girlfriend late at night.

  Danielle spent many nights watching him bind the woman tightly with all manner of exotic knots. Her breath would quicken when he fastened silken loops around the woman’s wrists, ankles and breasts and she imagined herself under the lashes delivered from his hand. She brought herself to orgasm many times fantasizing that he was dominating her as her wrists hung helplessly from handcuffs.

  Suddenly, she started as she realized she was still sitting in her car and was staring at Mr. Thompson. He had come from behind the Jeep in his garage and was looking back at her, coiling a long rope in his hand. She got out of the car quickly and walked up the driveway toward the house hoping to get there before he said anything.

  “Hi Danielle, how was your first semester at the University?” Mr. Thompson called out conversationally.

  Danielle slowed her walk and pasted a smile on her face, hoping her flushed cheeks wouldn’t betray her.

  “Uh, j-just fine.” Her eyes were cemented to the coiling rope.

  Noticing her gaze, he gestured to his Jeep. “I always take a coil of rope whenever I take the Jeep out four-wheeling. You never know what you might need it for.” He finished coiling the rope and smartly cinched it tight with a fireman’s knot. He stood there not hiding the fact that he was evaluating her short skirt and tight shirt.

  Mesmerized, she tried to tear her eyes away from Mr. Thompson’s hands wrapped around the coils of the rope. “Y-yes, you could use a rope for a lot of things.”

  Mike Thompson tossed the rope onto a box of other ropes and watched as the neighbor’s daughter walked toward the front door. “Yes, I certainly could use this rope for a lot of things, he thought. Like bind your hands behind your back and pinch those big, fat nipples you’ve got.”

  She had grown into quite a gorgeous young woman. Mike had watched her fill out over the last few years and now her shirt was stretched tightly with her full breasts and that ass of hers must have been shaped by a professional sculpture. Well, it would look even better after several lashes from a leather strap.

  Mike knew Danielle had seen him work on his girlfriend in his bondage room. She wasn’t nearly as sly as she thought when she casually glanced over the fence into the window when she thought he wasn’t looking. He also knew she hid in the shadows of her bedroom late at night with binoculars trying to get a glimpse of his domination.

  Mike’s longtime girlfriend had recently moved away to spend time with her aging parents and now his bondage room sat quietly, waiting for another submissive. A smile crept over his face as he considered the willing young pussy next door yearning for his domination and a plan began to form in his mind.

  Chapter 2

  Later that week, Danielle raked dry leaves into a pile on her parent’s lawn. Getting outside gave her a break from her parents and it also put her in a position to look closer at Mr. Thompson’s house. Maybe she could catch a glimpse into the window of his den.

  She was still kicking herself for her juvenile reaction to Mr. Thompson when she first arrived. Thankfully, when she had seen him over the last few days it was only in passing and from a distance. Now, she heard his front door shut and footsteps come down his walkway behind her.

  “Hi, Danielle.”

  “Oh, hi Mr. Thompson,” she feigned surprise.

  “I have a much larger rake that would probably work better for you. It’s hanging in my garage if you want to use it. I’m going to run a few errands but I’ll leave the garage door open for you.”

  Danielle could hardly believe her good luck. An opportunity to go over to his house without him there! She watched his Jeep back out of the driveway and disappear down the road. Her heart beat faster as she glanced around and hesitantly edged her way toward the open garage. She took a deep breath and walked quickly inside, stopping to let her eyes adjust to the shadows while looking for the rake.

  Power tools lay neatly on shelves. A well organized work bench sat against the opposite wall and yard tools hung in neat rows on the wall. She saw a large rake on a hook next to a door leading into the house. She strolled across the concrete floor looking carefully at the work bench well-stocked with saws, drills, and other tools meant for uses she could only imagine.

  She reached for the rake and her heart suddenly jumped as recognized other implements hanging nearby. Smooth black leather gleaming in dim light contrasted with silky white lengths of rope and the reflective stainless steel of handcuffs, snap links, pulleys and small clamps. Rows of bondage gear hung in neat lines on the wall, each piece hooked on its own peg.

  Danielle swallowed hard and her legs felt weak. She had seen Mr. Thompson use many of these devices but others were foreign to her. She looked at the implements, fascinated, trying to visualize their use. She took dow
n a strap of thick brown leather. A smooth, carved wooden handle adorned one end and the other end was split into three leather strips which hung loosely.

  With the leather strap in one hand, the fingers of her other hand stroked the soft curves of the coiled cord hanging on the wall, twisted it into a loop and wrapped it loosely around her wrist. Tendrils of warmth spread from her core. She slapped the strap gently against her thigh, closing her eyes and imagining . . .

  “Danielle,” the smooth, deep voice penetrated her consciousness. Her eyes snapped open and looked straight up into Mr. Thompson’s face.

  Mike drank in the delicious look on Danielle’s face as panic swept it. She dropped the leather tawes and jerked the wrist wrapped in the rope. In her desperation, she only succeeded in tightening the cord and her other hand clawed at the restriction. Mike slowly picked up the tawes from the floor and continued to watch her struggle. Finally realizing that she had been caught, she stopped resisting. Her mouth opened but no words came out.

  “I see you couldn’t resist touching my gear.”

  “No, I . . . well it was right next to the rake and . . . I just wondered what they were . . .” Her voice trailed off into a squeak as she wondered what he would do to her.

  “I think you know exactly what this is used for,” he gestured with the tawes. “I know you’ve seen me use it.”

  She blanched. He knew about that? Her wrist hung at eye level and jerked involuntarily against the smooth binding.

  Mike encircled her other wrist with his large hand and lifted it even with the other. Expertly coiling another loop with the cord he wrapped both of her hands tightly above her head. Gently putting his hands on her hips, he turned her body so she faced the wall and spoke softly into her ear. “You know what happens to naughty girls who touch things they shouldn’t. They get punished.”

  Danielle’s body had been reacting of its own accord. Her breathing came shallow and halting. Her cheeks flushed. The unbearable heat between her legs. Her mind screamed at her to find a way to leave as quickly as possible. He was her neighbor! He was tying her up!

  “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Her tiny voice betrayed her need and even to herself it was unclear whether she was asking about her restraint or clearly apparent arousal. Fragments of thought whirled confusingly through her head but her world came into abrupt focus as Mr. Thompson lifted her skirt and exposed her ass barely covered with a small, silky thong.

  Mike gazed at Danielle’s perfect, college ass and immediately knew he would possess it. Creamy firm buttocks shaped into a heart. Perfect skin waiting for the sensual touch of leather to brand it with ownership.

  He swung the tawes lightly through the air but the loose leather straps at the end snapped sharply against her ass cheeks. He could see her muscles tense and a tremendous intake of air was audible through the garage. He let her recover for a moment and swung again, this time a little harder. The sharp crack of leather against skin reverberated throughout the room.

  Danielle’s body jerked with surprise and the sting of the leather. Mike drew the implement back again, swinging this time with force. The leather snapped her ass several more times, each crack reverberating through the garage. Danielle closed her eyes and leaned her head against her forearms, her lungs heaving.

  Mike paused, admiring the bright red stripes across Danielle’s young, smooth ass. “From here on, you will ask permission before touching my gear. Do you understand?”

  Her mind was barely able to process his words. “Yes, Mr. Thompson.”

  “I’m going easy on you now but you will receive the rest of your punishment tonight. I’m also going to teach you the proper use of bondage gear. Be at my front door at 11:00 p.m.”

  He took his time releasing her wrists, his body close behind hers, the bulge in his pants occasionally brushed her still bare buttocks. She gasped with pain as the blood flowed into her wrists again. He slowly drew her skirt down, allowing his knuckles to graze the deep valley between her ass cheeks.

  She was rubbing her wrists with her eyes closed when he entwined his fingers into her hair and pulled back slightly but firmly. “Don’t be late,” he whispered into her ear.

  Danielle shuffled away slowly, still breathing deeply and rubbing her wrists even though there was no evidence of the ropes on her skin. He noticed her inner thighs glistening with her arousal in the bright daylight as she stumbled down the driveway. The anticipation of breaking in a fresh submissive was delicious. By the time he was done with her she would be even more willing to please.

  Chapter 3

  Danielle’s feet dragged in the grass as she crossed the lawn toward her parent’s house. Oh my god. What just happened? Why would he lash me just because I touched the stuff in his garage? Thoughts swirled in her mind like a gathering storm. She reached the front door and slowly climbed the stairs in a fog.

  She collapsed onto her bed and confusion was pushed to the side by arousal. Turning on her side, she looked over her back into her bedroom mirror. Carefully pulling her skirt up she saw angry red stripes where the leather had stamped its outline. A fresh slick of fluid leaked out as she lay on the bed, one hand in back, lightly fingering the raised welts and the other in front rapidly bringing her to climax as her mind replayed and extrapolated the lashes Mr. Thompson had given her in the garage.

  Later that evening Danielle sat at the family dinner table, the weals on her ass causing her to choose her position on the seat carefully. Her parents, younger brother and grandparents were all immersed in loud, animated conversation as Danielle stared at her empty plate. Her father passed her the mashed potatoes. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Danielle, tell us about school.”

  “I’d love to hear if you have any new boyfriends,” her grandmother winked at her. “Why, I remember when I was just twenty years old and your grandfather showed up at my front door trying to court me.” With that, she launched into a lengthy story and Danielle was left to her thoughts once again.

  The battle inside her mind was fierce. Why on earth would she voluntarily go and agree to her neighbor Mr. Thompson tying her up and using his implements on her. He must be at least twice her age! How did he think he could demand that she be at his house at a specific time. She should really tell her parents what he had done to her.

  The details of their encounter ran through her mind like a broken record. Heat began emanating from between her thighs and she imagined what he would do to her when she went back. If she went back, she corrected herself but trying to deny her powerful response to his domination was pointless. The orgasm on her bed was more intense than she had ever felt. When her mother heard her groans and knocked at her door to see if she was ok, Danielle could barely respond that she was just talking to a friend on the phone.

  She knew irrefutably she would be at Mr. Thompson’s doorstep at 11:00 p.m.

  Chapter 4

  Mike sat on the sofa reading a recently downloaded ebook on his electronic ereader when the grandfather clock in the living room chimed eleven times. He had no doubt that Danielle would come to his doorstep, it was just a matter of when. If she was going to be late, he would instruct her on punctuality. This, in addition to a lesson on the proper handling of bondage gear. Which, for her, was never unless given explicit permission.

  The quiet ticking of the clock was broken by the high toned chime of the doorbell. Ah, there she was. Mike continued to sit there for another moment, knowing Danielle was outside, her hand trembling mid-air, wondering whether she should knock or ring the bell again. After a moment, he heard a soft hesitant rap on the door.

  “Open the door and come inside,” he commanded loudly.

  The doorknob turned uncertainly and slid open a short distance. Mike continued reading and heard the door shut softly.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, I had to tell my parents I was going out and my father wanted to talk to me about . . .”

  “Quiet. You will speak only when given permission. Kneel on the floor in front of me
and take off your shirt. Eyes on the floor,” he said without looking up. His tone was low but the authority in it cut off her words instantly.

  She walked into the room, kneeling hesitantly. Her hands were glued to her sides and she tried several times to raise them to her shirt buttons but they fell back down. Finally, she was able to unbutton the blouse and slip it off her arms. Laying the ereader to one side, Mike evaluated the subject before him.

  Resting on her heels, hands in her lap, she waited expectantly. Her silky brunette bob cut hair barely reached her shoulders and partially obscured her downcast eyes. Ample cleavage was thrust up and out even more by a lacy pushup bra. A narrow waist and a mini-skirt completed the luscious picture.

  Mike went to the next room and came back with a set of heavy steel handcuffs. He cuffed each wrist, drawing them separately behind her back and ratcheting the cold metal close to her skin. He left the room again and came back with a black leather crop and a wide piece of leather with a wooden handle.

  “You will address me as Master. Do you understand?”

  She looked up hesitantly. “Yes.”

  Leather slapped the valley of her cleavage with the crop, snapping loudly.

  “I didn’t say you could look up. You will address me as Master. Do you understand?”

  A red mark was beginning to appear where the crop had snapped the top of her breasts, stinging horribly on the sensitive area. She quickly lowered her eyes.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Stand up.”

  With her hands still behind her back, she stood awkwardly, remembering to keep her eyes downcast.

  Mike produced a smooth leather collar and spoke to her softly while moving her hair to one side and fastening it around her neck. “I’ve been watching you grow up. I think you can be taught respect but you must demonstrate your willingness to accept instruction. If you’re good, you may earn the privilege of wearing this collar when I allow you to come over.”