Escort

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boundBinder
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Escort

Unread post by boundBinder »

F/m with some F/f, and as always, the "female leads" tend to dress according to my particular tastes. ;) The bondage does not happen until nearly the end, so I ask that you be patient until then. This is a long one(15 pages), so I am posting it in chunks of a few pages. It may not appeal to some, and for that I apologize.

I had just turned thirty-eight. My 20-year high school reunion was looming large in my future. I had been mercilessly bullied during school, and wasn't planning on going, but a couple of my friends—including one from school—urged me to. "Dude, you should totally go," one of them—Archie—said over dinner, one evening. "You're pretty successful. Rub in in their faces."

“Absolutely," my old school friend, Ron, chimed in. "He's right, man. I remember how you were picked on for being chunky, and a nerd. Look at you, now! You've leaned up a little. You're in shape. You have a decent career. You should totally do it." I took a bite of my steak, and chewed thoughtfully. "Come on. Don't chicken out! Do it. You might even see a couple of friends," he chided, good-naturedly.

I only had a handful of those, and one of them was at the table, with me. I considered it briefly, and shook my head. "Naw. It's not worth it. I'm not about to be belittled by 'the Five', two decades out of the nightmare that was high school, and I have no interest in seeing the two dudes that made my life hell, just for playing D&D."

"I'll bet they're fat,"said Arch, "and balding."

"The jocks're probably not looking to good, either," finished Ron, raising his glass.

I laughed at that. In truth, there were only four people from school I had any interest in seeing; one of them, my old buddy Mike, who had gone to college and pretty much dropped off the planet right after graduation, Ron and Chuck, who were sitting with me, and my high school crush, Veronica, and even that last one was iffy. She had never been part of 'the Five', as they were called—a quintet of girls from the cheerleading and drill teams that made everyone's life hell that wasn't 'popular'—and had never had a mean word to say to me, but neither had she ever given me so much as the time of day. I had to admire her "from afar", as they say. One of the jocks caught me staring at her once, and that earned me a punch in the stomach, that a nearby teacher pretended not to see...a member of the first string team could get away with murder. I hadn't thought of her, since high school, and her memory brushed the back of my mind, gently.

Veronica had been perfect...night-black hair, blue eyes, ivory skin, perfect face with a barely-visible dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and an even more perfect figure. She had been so far out of my league, then. I could barely talk to her, and I never dared to even try to work up the courage to ask her out. I can only imagine what torment I would have had to endure to even pose the question to her. I'd have probably been beaten unconscious.

"Earth to Pete. Come in, Peter!" laughed Ron, "where were you, bud?"

"I was just remembering high school."

"You were thinking about 'Ronnie, weren't you?" he guessed, using her old nickname, and turning to Archie, "he had SUCH a thing for her, all through school."

Arch turned to me. "Hot?"

Chuck answered for me, "Very. I think we all had a thing for her, at one point or another." He raised his glass to me, and said, "but we stayed in our lane, didn't we, Pete?"

I nodded, picking at my rice. "Didn't want to end up like Mike, Junior year," I said darkly.

Archie looked back and forth, between Chuck and me. "What happened?"

"He asked one of the 'Five' if she'd go to some dance with him. There were these two jock assholes that were the worst bullies in the school, and they caught up to him in gym class, in the showers. He made the mistake of fighting back. They gut-punched him a couple of times, stripped him naked, kicked him in the junk, shoved him out of the showers into the main gym, and took off with his clothes. He laid there for a long time, in pain, barely able to move, before the gym teacher finally went to see what was wrong...told him to get up and walk it off."

Chuck snorted. "Yeah.. 'walk it off'...naked, in front of a third of the school, with a ruptured testicle."

Archie choked on a breadstick. "Ruptured?"

"Oh, yeah. He was hospitalized for weeks. Stopped talking to pretty much anyone. His parents demanded that the two jocks be brought up on charges, and the gym teacher, too," I said, bitterly.

"Were they?"

Chuck laughed. "Hell no. They were the two highest-scoring players on the team. MVPs and all that...I think they might have gotten a couple of days' detention....the gym teacher got fired, though, and they sued him and the school for negligence and stuff. They ended up moving away, when the death threats started."

"To Mike. Wherever he might be," I said, raising my glass.

"To Mike," Chuck responded in kind.

"To Mike," said our waitress, Jasmine, holding up the pitcher of tea. She had walked up to refill our glasses, and had overheard us toasting our friend's memory. We were regulars, and we all knew each other well. We were all exceedingly fond of her, and she always seemed glad to see us. Jasmine was friendly, exotically pretty, and very alluring, slender, with olive skin, dark eyes, long, soft hair that was blonde, but that showed that its natural shade was darker. "Is it Mike's birthday? Where is he?" Chuck explained the story quickly for her benefit, while she refreshed our glasses, and starting taking away our empty dishes. "Wow. Those guys sound like real jerks. Hey, at least you don't have to deal with them, any more. Can I get you fellas anything else? Dessert? Something else to drink?"

I ordered a slice of cake, and Chuck asked for a shot of Crown Royal. As I waited for my dessert, Chuck started in, again. "Come on, Pete. You should go. I'm going."

Jasmine brought my cake and Chuck's whiskey, as I replied, "yeah, but you're bringing your wife. Why would I go to this, stag? It would just be one more thing to get made fun of, and judged for. 'Oh, look...pathetic Pete the pussy couldn't get a date'," I continued, mimicking my high-school nemeses. "I neither need, nor want that."

"Where aren't you going?" asked Jasmine, as she cleaned up the rest of our dishes while we finished and languished a bit longer at our table.

"My high school reunion," I replied.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because he was bullied in school," volunteered Arch.

"Pretty bad," clarified Chuck.

"So was I, and I went to my five-year," replied Jasmine. Seeing her standing there, with her hands sternly on her hips, I noticed, and not for the first time, how pretty she was.

“Yeah, but it's different for...," I began.

"For girls?" she asked accusingly, eyes narrowed, arms now crossed defiantly over her chest.

"I can't imagine someone like you being physically assaulted on a weekly basis," I replied.

"Really. So, I never got my hair pulled for not being the right race, or being the right person's friend?"

I sat with my mouth open, voice abandoning me like a rat from a sinking ship.

"I wasn't injured like your friend Mike, but rest assured, teenage girls can be vicious. I went to school with a black eye, more than once. I had to attend my junior prom with a split lip, because I looked at the wrong guy too long, in English class," she said through furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Jas. I meant no offense," I said, sheepishly. Arch reached across the table, and smacked me in the back of the head.

"Did you forget that my little sister had a dozen pictures of her naked in the girls' shower posted all over my school, that some little bitch snapped with her camera phone while my sister wasn't looking?" Chuck said, accusingly.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Jeez. I'm still not going. I didn't go to the last three, and I'm certainly not going to this one."

"Huh," began Jasmine, cocking one eyebrow, "I took you for having more balls than that."

Arch and Chuck both ribbed me for being burned by her so hard. I was unfazed. "I'm not subjecting myself to that kind of humiliation, especially twenty years out. Besides, I have no one to go with," I finished, draining the rest of my tea, and dropped a generous tip on my tab. Jas was a smartass, but I considered her a good friend. She busted her butt at work. She deserved it.

The other fellas followed suit, but as we got up to leave, Jasmine dropped this bomb: "I'll go with you."

Chuck and Arch looked at each other, then at her. The look on my face must have absolutely screamed that she had just announced that she was planning on robbing a bank with a banana. "What?" I said finally, after doing a double-take.

She held up one palm, as she saw the lewd comments bubbling up from Chuck and Archie. "Just as friends," she clarified, closing her eyes in exasperation. She didn't stop the comments, she just deflected them to me.

"Oooo! Friendzoned!" said Chuck. Archie laughed as we followed her to the register to get receipts.

Jasmine cocked that eyebrow at Chuck, "sooo.. Looking to get our whiskey watered down, are we?"

They stopped laughing, and Jasmine winked at Chuck.

"Seriously. I'll go with you. If I'm on your arm, they at least can't say anything about you being alone. Besides, I've not gone on a decent date in ages. I'd love an excuse to get all dressed up. Who knows? You might have fun. Here," she said, scribbling her number on the back of my receipt, "call me tomorrow, and we'll work it out." With that, we all said our goodbyes. I had to admit, I was almost looking forward to it, now. Jasmine could be positively charming.

Over the next few days, we finalized the arrangements, and it became evident how serious Jasmine was about the event. I texted her, to see if she was serious, and almost immediately she called me directly, asking to come over to my place Caught off-guard, I immediately said "yes", so she spent the evening asking me all about high school, my friends, 'enemies', the 'Five', everyone's names...it was like she was cramming for some kind of final exam, or something. After an exhausting five hours, and two bottles of wine, she hugged me goodbye, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and promised that "we are going to make them regret the way they treated you in school, Pete. I promise. And, I promise you'll have a good time."

The next day, I received a text message from her, that said, "I've been thinking about our date," which caused me to think she was about to break it off. A few seconds later, she sent, "I think I'm going to wear something entirely inappropriate, just to get a reaction."

"What do you mean?" I replied.

"I'm going to wear this outfit," she said, and then sent me a selfie. Her hair, normally in a neat braid when she was at work, was brushed out into a lush, two-tone mane. She was wearing a two-piece outfit that appeared to be made of some kind of brown suede. The top was a tube with attached long sleeves, giving it sort of an off-the-shoulder styling. The bottom hem stopped a few inches from her waist, showing off a perfectly-flat expanse of toned skin. It had a wide slit down the center, held together with rows of silver rods held in place with a double row of silver studs, baring a two-inch strip of skin, between her breasts.

The skirt was a matching affair; short, tight, reaching barely to mid-thigh. It was scarcely more than a loin cloth, really...two panels of the material preserved her modesty, held in place with rows of the same “rods and studs” arrangement as the top, running up the side of each hip. It would be impossible for her to wear anything under the outfit.

She was stunning.
Last edited by boundBinder on 13 Feb 2022, 16:42, edited 1 time in total.

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boundBinder
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Escort, part 2

Unread post by boundBinder »

"So, whatcha think? Will I draw stares?" she sent.

"I'm still staring, myself," was his reply, taking care to remind himself that they were just friends.

"LOL Thank you. Good. Hold that thought until next Saturday night, and make sure you dress to the nines," was her reply.

She was so much “one of the guys” that I never paid much attention to how beautiful Jasmine was, and now I'd be having trouble NOT noticing, the next time I ate at the restaurant she worked at. I resolved to try and have a suit tailored for the event, so I could at least appear worthy to have her on my arm. When the day of the event came and I put it on, I had to admit that I looked sharp. Hair cut and styled, a 'fashionable' amount of manly stubble on my chin, and a subtle cologne, I went to pick up my date for the evening.

She opened the door, and though the effect of the outfit in pictures was good, it rendered me unable to think coherently, in person. Her hair was brushed out, and lay softly over her bare shoulders. Smoky eye makeup and dark, burgundy lipstick drew dramatic attention to her lovely face. She was wearing an honest-to goodness collar around her delicate throat--it was shining silver band, to match the detailing on her clothes. It was about an inch wide, and fit her snugly, as an eye-catching accent. I did a double-take at that. Hugging her legs were a slightly darker pair of mid-thigh, suede, stiletto-heeled boots. She smiled at me, brightly.

"I guess the outfit has the intended affect," she said, with a chuckle.

"What? Huh?" I stammered, shaking off her insidious spell.

She crossed her arms, and smirked at me, in amusement. "You've been staring at me for...well..a while. I was tempted to see how long you'd stand there with your mouth open, but I don't want us to be late." I blushed, ashamed of myself. It would be difficult to remind myself that this wasn't a real date—it was just a couple of friends, going to a reunion. She turned and retrieved a matching clutch-bag, and hooked her slim arm in mine. "Let's go, tiger," she cooed. I smiled.

It was all I could do, not to stare at her, during the trip. "I am really looking forward to this. After what you told me about school, I think you need a little payback. I want you to tell everyone I am your girlfriend," she announced, suddenly.

"What?" I asked, incredulously. "Why would I.."

She cut me off. "Just do it, all right? Tell them we've been together about three years." I nodded, and grunted an assent, struggling to keep my eyes forward. Mercifully, it was a relatively short drive. As she predicted, all eyes were on her, from the moment we arrived. I walked her across the floor and pulled out a chair for her, then asked her if she wanted something to drink. She reached up with both hands and pulled me closer, her lips almost touching my ear, when she whispered, "make SURE you tell everyone I'm your girlfriend, okay?"

I pulled back a bit. "I don't know if I can do that, Jas," I stammered.

“Just do it, Pete. Okay? PROMISE," she scolded, aiming a stern finger between my eyes.

I nodded, she smiled, and then relaxed. "So...drink?" I offered, trying to cut the tension.

"Yes, please. Something strong...really strong, if they have it."

I left her at the table, and made my way to the bar. A some of my old school acquaintances spoke to me, and I politely spoke back. More than one asked about Jasmine, and I dutifully gave them the lie we had concocted. I wove my way back to her, politely conversing with a few more people, and set a vodka martini down in front of her.

Chuck found us, with his wife in tow, followed shortly by Ron and his wife. Chuck's wife looked nonplussed at the vision of allure that was sipping booze, and snuggling closer to me with every opportunity.

"Wow, Jazzie. You went all out," Ron said. Jasmine laughed and nodded. Chuck's wife, having eaten at the same restaurant Jasmine worked at, finally clicked on who was wrapped around my arm, holding my hand, and acting like she was about to crawl into my lap. Honestly, it was verging on making me uncomfortable. I think it was less about getting revenge on my behalf than it was about her working out some unresolved issue.

"Wow. What's he paying YOU?" came a voice from behind me. I whirled around, bristling, but Jas caught my shoulder and calmed me with a light touch. Meeting the eyes of the speaker, it took me a moment to realize that it was one of my high school bullies. I'll be damned. He WAS balding and fat, and his equally rotund, and follically challenged crony was right behind him, snickering.

Before I could muster a reply, Jas spoke up, "Paying me?" she asked, looking genuinely confused. "Ooooh. I get it. You're making some lewd comment implying that I'm some sort of escort...or worse, a hooker, and I was paid to be here," she continued. Her dusky voice, which had been dripping with scornful venom, turned on a dime, and was suddenly oozing with honey. "Rest assured...'Dan'...is it?"

"Don," he grunted.

"Rest assured, Dan," she continued, actually sliding into my lap, now, "if it were a financial transaction, based on his performance, I would be paying him," she finished with a sultry purr, turning to slide her arms around my neck, and slip her tongue into my mouth, ever-so-briefly. She got up between us, spun to face me, bent over in front of him to kiss me on the mouth lightly, and chirped, "I'm going to bathroom, lover. Don't wander off." With that, she picked up her clutch, turned, and I caught a glimpse of a brief, 'don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me' look that she shot at Don. I would have mortgaged my house to see his simmering, dumbfounded reaction, and Jasmine handed that reaction to me, for free.

"Where did you find HER?" he demanded.

"That, Dan..," I began, emphasizing the wrong name.

"DON."

"...is a story I reserve for my friends. Why don't you toddle on off with your girlfriend there, and leave me to mine?" I clinked glasses with Chuck. His wife opened her mouth, but I forestalled her with a raised hand.

"I'll tell you in a second," I said, turning back to Don, "Got somewhere to be?"

"I'll leave you to your whore, then."

That tore it. I set my glass down, and stood up. Don had been taller than I was in school, but things had changed in the twenty years since. I rose three inches above him, now, and it looked like I had many pounds of muscle on him, too. The tables had turned. I grabbed the lapels of his jacked it, and pulled him to within inches of my teeth—I had to bend a bit to reach him. "You're going to apologize to my Jasmine, and then you're going to leave us alone and not speak another ill word about her, or I'm going to hurt you...REAL...bad." His face turned white as a sheet, and I dropped him. He blustered a little, and I simply folded my arms over my chest, and focused a steely glare on him. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he and his friend scampered away.

A very different tale was unfolding in the ladies restroom. Three of the members of the "Five" were washing their hands and laughing, when Jas walked in. Tracey, their self-appointed leader, spoke to her. "So... You're 'with' Pete'?

Jasmine immediately recognized them, from my decades-old descriptions. She leaned over the sinks, and reapplied her dark lipstick, kissed the air in front of the mirror, and replaced the lipstick into her clutch. She cut her eyes toward them, before acknowledging the question. "You could say that. I don't give him a lot of choice."

"What's that supposed to mean," asked Jill, Tracey's 'second-in-command'.

Jasmine sauntered over to them, one hand on her hip, while she considered her perfectly-manicured nails critically. "It means, love, that I usually have him all tied up in my bedroom." They all laughed, presumably at my expense. Then, she continued. "I have to." She moved closer, letting her delightful perfume punctuate her words. "If he took that great, big cock or his equally-talented tongue to me more than I let him, I wouldn't be able function, much less walk straight. He's easily the most fantastic lover I've ever had, so I keep him bound and gagged in my room most of the time...partly to keep anyone else from stealing him away, partly to give my body time to recover, but mostly to give my voice a rest from screaming. I don't supposed you can relate, though. I've gotten a good look at your husbands." Jas could swear she heard a snicker from within one of the stalls.

"You're lying," one of them said, disdainfully.

"If you don't believe me, take a good look at his wrists. You might still be able to see the rope marks. Ciao," she said, sauntering into a stall to relieve herself.

"I still say you're full of it," Jill said after her.

"Believe what you want, honey," Jas said, locking the stall door.

She heard them leaving, amid half-hearted snickers and jibes. She texted me a couple of times to fill me in on what had happened, and to ask if I was okay, to apologize for the kiss and the other stuff, and for 'leading me on', as she put it. For my part, I was fine. I 'got it'. It was an act, and though I confess more than a little longing for the smoking-hot vixen that was hanging on my arm and pretending to be my girlfriend as a favor to a friend, I fought not to let myself get caught up in it. I did find myself intrigued by the idea of being gagged and tied to her bed...or anyone's bed. As Jasmine came out of the stall, a somewhat buxom woman in black was waiting for her. She had apparently been in the next stall over. She had black hair worn in a neat bun, icy, blue eyes, pale skin, dark makeup, and a nice figure. She was dressed in heels and a black, well-tailored pant suit. A satiny, corset showed through her jacket, and a multi-strand, pearl choker completed her look. "That was very well-handled," she said, arms crossed over her chest.

“Uh.. thank you? ...and you are..?" Jasmine asked, suspecting the answer. Given her appearance, right down to the freckles despite the woman's attempt to hide them with makeup, she could only be Ronnie. She sized up her next target with the eyes of a hunting raptor, as they both moved to the sink to wash their hands.

"Pull in your claws, miss. I'm not one of 'them'," she said, spitting the last syllable like a curse, "I'm just sorry I wasn't the one that did it." She stuck her hand out. "Veronica. Veronica Masters."

Jas took the offered hand after drying her own, and gave it a perfunctory shake. "Jasmine. Peter has told me a little about you," she said cautiously.

"Nothing bad, I hope," Veronica replied, moving to lean against the counter.

"Well, he told me he had a crush on you in high school, but before he finally got the courage to ask you out, your buddies beat him up for even trying," said Jasmine, still closed off.

"They weren't 'my buddies'. I hated those assholes. One of them decided he wanted me, and intimidated everyone else into leaving me alone. High school was horrible, because of those toads."

Jasmine smiled. "Well, that's good to know. If you'd like to join us at our table, please do. I'm sure Pete would like to catch up."

"Wait," Veroncia said, catching her elbow, "that stuff you said...about Pete...tying him up...was any of that true?"

Jasmine raised an eyebrow and smiled wider. She checked the stalls, and then began a rather interesting conversation with her. "No. I just wanted to make those bitches squirm....BUT..."

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boundBinder
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Escort, part 3(the bondage parts start at the end of this one)

Unread post by boundBinder »

Back at our table, I had begun to check my watch. Jas had been gone a while, and I was honestly starting to get bored with the whole thing. There was no one I cared about seeing, the food was barely edible, and I was questioning my decision to come, when Jas came striding out of the bathroom, Veronica in tow. "Pete, you remember Veronica?"

Veronica offered me her hand, as I stood up. "Ronnie, to my friends," she said with a smile.

"Of course I do. Sit with us," I said.

She sat down, and I chatted with her for a bit, about old times, and new acquaintances.

"A fine friend you have in Jasmine, here," she said, favoring her with a smile.

"She is that. Jas, there is someone I would like to introduce you to." I was sure that Jas and Ronnie could see my dark stare, aimed at the corner of the room. I took her by the hand, and led her to Don.

"There something you'd like to say to my date, or do you and I need to step outside?" I said, resuming my previous stance.

He narrowed his eyes at me, as his buddies glared my way. I stared him down. At first, I thought he was going to find some courage, but ultimately, he said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am..."

"Miss," Jasmine corrected, still not catching on.

"Miss. I said something to Pete that I'm not proud of, and I apologize."

I thanked him, and led her away. I have to confess that I was actually proud of the guy for doing the right thing. As we started to meander around the dance floor, Jazzie led me into the dancers. "Dance with me," she said, lightly. It was a slow song, so I held her close as we swayed, amid a mix of envious stares, glares, and incredulous looks. "What was that about?" I quickly explained it to her, and she blushed. "Well, I say.. No one has ever played the white knight to me, before. Thank you." Her attempt at a southern accent was a crime.

"You're welcome Jas. I wasn't about to let that pass."

"Thank you again.. so... Ronnie and I talked a while.."

"I noticed... Did you really say all that stuff about..you..me..tying me up..and..stuff?" I stuttered.

"I did. It worked like a charm."

“Thank you for that. I have to admit, I've never considered..that stuff."

"Intrigued?" she asked, with a kittenish smile.

"Mayyyyybe," I replied playfully. We shared a laugh as the song ended. We returned to our table, where Ronnie was catching up with Chuck. She gave me with a smile, as I returned. She was no less stunning than she had been in school. Ron and his wife excused themselves, owing to an early morning for work, leaving the five of us to talk alone.

"I remember you played D&D in school. Still do that?" Ronnie asked me.

"Once in a while, though Ron, Arch, and Chuck are my only players."

“'Your' players?” she asked.

“I am what is referred to as the Dungeon Master,” I began, missing the pointed look between Jas and Ronnie. I did catch Ronnie's left eyebrow cocking upward a bit at the term. “I control the game and the action.”

“Dungeon Master, huh?” Ronnie said with a grin that was almost lecherous.

I cleared my throat, and launched into a brief explanation.

"I've always wanted to try that," she said.

"Me too," piped up Jasmine.

Ronnie touched my hand, lightly. "Something of a role-player, are you?"

"Yeah. It's fun." I completely missed the cat-got-the-canary smile on her face, and the conspiratory nod from Jas to her. I should have suspected something was up, given all the secretive whispers they'd shared.

Jasmine stretched and yawned, not unlike a cat. "I'm getting tired. Shall we call it a night?" We all stood up.

"Pete, why don't you let me take Jasmine home? I would love to get to know her better. I think we have a lot in common."

"I don't know," I responded.

Jasmine said, "it's fine, Pete. Really." She reached up and hugged me tight, giving me a light kiss on the cheek. "I've had a good evening. Thank you for bringing me."

“Thank you for coming, I said, hugging her once more,”and for...everything else.” She put her hand on my cheek, with a smile and subtle nod.

"I'll get her home safe. I promise. I'm a bit tired, too. You just hang out with Chuck and his lovely wife, and have a good time."

As they left, I found myself a little envious. The three of us stayed and talked for a while, keeping mostly to ourselves. We did have some old acquaintances come up and ask questions, and reminisce a bit. Oddly enough, a former member of 'the Five' came up to me, apologized for their behavior in school, and asked me to dance. I politely declined, as I was ready to leave, myself. My phone buzzed, and it was a message from Jasmine. It was an address, with the message, "Come quickly." I said my goodbyes, wondering what it was about. A few moments later, the message was followed up with, "Hurry, please". It wasn't far from the event center. When I arrived, I found a somewhat modest, but lovely home. I knocked on the door, and when it opened, Ronnie's lovely face met my eyes. She was all but "hiding" behind the door. "Come on in, Pete. Please."

I entered, and started to say, "what's going on", but suddenly was having trouble putting together a coherent sentence. She closed the door behind us as I turned to face her. The only thing remaining of Veronica's tasteful outfit from the reunion was the satiny corset, which hugged her hourglass figure perfectly, causing her ample, alabaster cleavage to threaten to spill over the top. She was wearing a pair of matching, black satin, finger-less gloves that reached to just under her underarms. Gone were the delicate strands of the pearl choker, to be replaced with a 1” leather collar. The elegant dress pants were replaced with a short, black leather skirt from under which peeked fishnet stockings, and stiletto-heeled, kidskin boots hugged her shapely legs, up to just above her knees. The lovely “up-do” had been let down, allowing her thick, raven hair to cascade, silky-straight, to the middle of her back, offsetting her perfect, straight bangs.

“Ummm..,” was all I managed.

She smiled at me. “I hope you like it,” she said, moving a bit closer to me, “and I hope you'll forgive Jasmine's part in this little ruse to get you to my web. She had a most interesting story in the ladies' room...she mentioned leaving you tied up...so tell me...HAVE you ever been tied up, Peter?”

“No, I...,” I stammered, backing away a bit, as she advanced on me. I noticed muffled noises coming from the closet.

“Hm,” she said, moving closer still. We were almost touching. “Would you like to be?”

“Ronnie, I'm not sure about this.” This was a dream come true. I had never really gotten over my thing for her. Even separated by many years, I still found myself slipping under her spell, but this was all too suspicious...too easy.

“You DID say you were into role-playing, Dungeon MASTER. Would you like to play a role for me?” Her voice was mesmerisingly sultry. The noises seemed more insistent, but I couldn't tell what they were.

Freshman high school me would have already torn all my clothes off. Older me had been played for a fool one too many times. “Ronnie, is this some kind of joke? A trick?”

She moved into my space, slipped both silk-clad arms around my neck, and pulled me into a bruising, mind-numbing kiss. Her tongue explored every inch of mine, her purring all the while. When she broke the kiss, she whispered, “ it's not a trick. I liked you through all of school, and never understood why you never asked me out. Jas told me the story. I promise you won't regret it.” She kissed my neck, just beneath my earlobe. “I'll tie you up,” another kiss to the side of my neck, “gag you,” a gentle, suckling bite to the other side, “tease you mercilessly,” her breathy intonations were sending chills up my spine as she kissed me tenderly, just beneath my other earlobe, “edge you until you go mad,” she held my earlobe into her teeth, whispering between them, “and when the only thing stopping you from pleading for it is the gag in your mouth,” she dragged it from between her teeth lightly, and then breathed, “finally FUCK you” into my ear, and then she finished with another kiss, just like the first.

She felt amazing. She looked amazing. She smelled amazing. She tasted amazing. I would have done almost anything for her, at that point. Then, Veronica played her master stroke. “If you refuse me, I can't promise what will happen to my little prisoner,” she said with a darkly-sexy look.

“What?”

She moved away from me, and strutted over to a nearby closet—the kind with the slats on the door. When she swung the door open, there was Jasmine. She was still dressed as she had been at the reunion, but multiple, neatly-corded bands of tight rope confined her lithe, little body into a strict hogtie, arching her back, and pulling her elbows almost touching, behind her. A black, silk scarf shrouded her eyes in darkness, and duct tape sealed her mouth securely, covering her face from nose to chin, wrapped tightly around her head, under her lovely mane.

She was whimpering and writhing in her tight bondage, and it was then that I knew what the sound was—it was her. As she struggled with the strict ropes restraining her trim form, I became aware of a second sound: a duo of muffled buzzing noises. It didn't take me long, judging by her movements, that twin vibrators thrummed away inside her. She moaned into her gag, as apparently an orgasm overtook her.

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boundBinder
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Escort, part the fourth

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For those of you who stuck with me this far, thank you for staying. This one was the last that I have written, and still needs a lot of work to correct horrendous grammar issues. There are plans in my head for a couple more, and perhaps a sequel or two. If there is enough interest, I will continue, when I can--time is short for me, of late. I cannot seem to get to my computer for any appreciable length of time, and my creative muse is a fickle bitch, even then. I thank you all for the kind words I have received.

“What's the meaning of this?” I whirled on Ronnie, as I bent to release Jas, who had heard my voice and was humming into the tape sealing her mouth, frantically.

“Not so fast, Peter. Before you do that, take off her blindfold, and use the word 'Red' to her. It's her safeword.” I hesitated, but Ronnie nodded at her captive. “Go on.”

“Red,” said, as I pulled the blindfold from her. The smile in Jazzie's eyes was immediate. “Jasmine, are you all right? Let me...” I started to pick at the knots, but stopped, as she started shaking her head 'no', and humming frantically. “You...you don't WANT me to untie you?” She shook her head again, and then wailed into her gag as another climax washed over her.

Ronnie knelt by her head, and reached out to stroke her hair. She leaned into it. This was all so surreal. “Jasmine is playing the part of the damsel-in-distress,” she cooed, turning to look at her, “aren't you, gorgeous?” Jas nodded her head enthusiastically. “Do you want me to put the blindfold back, or would you like to watch?” She shook her head. “Want to watch, huh?” She nodded, as her eyes rolled back and closed. Apparently, the toys within her were on some kind of cycle. “Naughty girl.” Ronnie fished a control of some kind out of her skirt. “I'll just turn these down a bit, and keep you on a slow simmer. Too much of a good thing is bad for you.” She leaned down and whispered something to her, to which she nodded eagerly. “Okay, now that we've established that no one is any real danger, shall we get back into our parts of the game?” She grabbed a handful of Jasmine's hair, and pulled her head back. Jas squealed into her gag. “She was a VERY naughty girl. She wasn't wearing any panties under that sexy outfit. I had to stuff her mouth with a pair of mine, to keep her quiet. I wonder what she had planned for you.” She stroked Jasmine's cheek with her free hand, and eyeing me with a smokey gaze. “Now, Peter...do you do exactly as I tell you, or do you leave poor, helpless Jasmine, here, to be tortured mercilessly? Will you be the coward, or take her punishment for her?”

I hesitated. “This is all so...”

Jasmine moaned, and shook her head 'no', as if she was trying to warn me. Ronnie pinched her nose shut, cutting off her air. “Time is running out. I won't repeat my offer.”

I was so very turned on. I'd never even had thoughts of bondage, beyond the idle wondering...and now, it was all I could think about. I DID love role-playing... “Leave her alone. Take me, instead.”

“Good boy,” Ronnie said, releasing her. Jasmine sucked in a lungful of air, and whimpered into her gag, still shaking her head. “Stand up, and strip for us. Take everything off, and go slow, so we can both enjoy it.”

I felt silly, but in for a penny, in for a pound. I slowly stepped out of every stitch, and stood naked in front of them, my swelling member cupped protectively in my hands.

“Oh, no.. That's the best part. Hands on the back of your head, please.” I complied. Jasmine had stopped acting, and was staring openly at me. I was no Adonis, but I figured Jas was already so worked up that just about anyone would look good to her. “Leave them there,” Ronnie said, as she strode forward and took hold of it. “You have a nice one,” she said, stroking it playfully. I was at 'full mast' in seconds. “Now, turn around and put your hands behind you, so I can bind and gag you. I heard Ronnie chuckle. “Jas, you're not supposed to be enjoying this, remember?”

It's an odd sound, hearing someone laugh from behind a severe gag. After a moment, Jasmine began to play her part again.

“Better.” I felt the cool touch of a leather strap binding my wrists together behind me, tightly. She led me over to an odd-looking chair. It was covered with a silk cloth to hide its true nature. The cloth was pulled away, and I saw before me a chair constructed for the sole purpose of restraint. It had a narrow, high back, with wide, stout straps every few inches. The seat was also narrow—a purpose for which I would learn, later. It was three-legged, with two in the front, and one in the back, extending from the chair back. Ronnie walked behind it. I was more than a little apprehensive, because this whole, bizarrely-lucky happenstance had “trap” written all over it. I trusted Jasmine, though. She drew my bound hands down over the back of the chair, and sat me in it. The straps were buckled and tightened across me, binding my arms to my body, and welding me to the chair, at my throat, shoulders, biceps, elbows, forearms, and wrists. Another strap went over my lap, and thighs, and she strapped my legs to the chair legs just beneath my knees, at my shins, and ankles. When she was done, I could not move. She circled back around to my front, leaned over, and kissed me, fiercely, her tongue probing my mouth thoroughly. When she broke the kiss, she was again behind me, one hand draped lazily over my chest, her breath on my ear.

“Ronnie, I..,” I began, but she cut my words off with a leather plug gag that I hadn't even noticed she had, shoving it deftly into my mouth from behind me. A small, silk-covered box was retrieved from Jasmine's closet prison, and when Veronica opened it, I saw dozens of small padlocks. One by one, each of my straps was tightened a bit more, and then locked, securely. It all happened so fast, that I only noticed the black, silicone phallus protruding from my lower face after several locks were already in place. The final lock clicked home on the gag in my mouth, telling me that I wouldn't be moving or allowed to speak for some time.

She caressed the side of my face tenderly, and I would have leaned into it, despite myself, had the strap holding my neck against the chair back not been so wide and severe. I couldn't turn my head, at all. “You know, I've wanted to strap a man into my chair, every since I commissioned it, but I was too chicken to ask the men I dated...which haven't been many.” She moved to sit in my lap, facing me, and straddling my chair. “My poor experiences with the male sex left me with little confidence. You were awfully cruel, never asking me out. I had my eye on you from Sophomore year. I'm afraid you'll have to be punished most severely for that, Peter.”

I started trying to talk, shaking my head, 'no'. I was beginning to get genuinely scared, now. I had no idea what this woman that I hadn't seen in two decades was capable of.

“Shhhhh..” she said, laying her fingers on the leather panel, on either side of the rubber thing sticking out of my face. She leaned in, and began kissing my earlobe, and whatever exposed skin on my neck she could find. “Don't be scared,” she whispered, “I'm going to punish you, but I swear you will enjoy yourself.” Her hands traveled down my body, and before I knew what was happening, she first slipped a condom onto me, and then my manhood was securely bound in some sort of leather harness that encircled my root, my scrotum, and the base of my shaft, separating the whole thing from my body in thin bands of tight leather strapping. I didn't think it possible, but I engorged even more. There was no way I could climax through that.

She rose, and walked over to where Jasmine had been watching me, wide-eyed. “Now, as for you,” she began, ominously. For Jas' part, she began shaking her head, and pleading into her gag, as Veronica approached her. “You are going to provide me with some amusement,” she purred, as she began releasing her legs. Once they were unbound, and the humming toys removed, Ronnie forced Jas to look at me with one hand, eyed me hungrily herself, and held Jasmine close to her with her free arm. She turned to Jasmine's ear, and although it was a whisper, she made it loud enough for me to hear. “Go over there and fuck him.”

“Whhmmmph?!?” I said through the fat plug, sealing my mouth. I had never even dreamed that I'd ever had a chance at someone like Jas, not to mention...like this.

Jasmine, for her part, began fighting as Ronnie force marched her toward my chair. She was a very good actress, and had me believing she was horrified and unwilling, wholeheartedly, until she reached my chair, and all too quickly sat down, carefully sheathing my tightly-bound rod with her body in the process. The moans from behind her gag eliminated any doubt.

All coherent reasoning fled from me, when she began rocking and grinding her hips into me. She did all the work, because bound as I was, I could not active participate. I could only sit and take it. I had been reduced to a mere sex toy, and I was loving it. I wanted a climax so badly I thought I would snap, but Ronnie's diabolical restraint ensured that would be a distant wish. I chanced a look across the room, to find that our beautiful, ivory-and-ebony dominatrix was lounging in a stuffed chair easily, devouring us with her gaze as her hand wantonly caressed herself beneath her buttery-soft skirt. Jasmine was becoming more and more insistent, to the point of causing me some pain, as I tried to swell and burst, again and again, only to be foiled by the unyielding leather. Veronica rose, and grabbed a handful of Jasmine's hair, pulling her hair back, and slowing her gyrations. “Slow down, slave. No need to rush. Take as much as you want, but don't you dare make him cum. It's difficult for him, but it's possible. That's for me, only.” She looked at me, past Jasmine's lovely, gagged face. “You cum, when I say you cum. Not before.”

With that, Veronica released Jasmine's mouth from it's bindings, and Jas began working me anew. As she rocked and purred into my face, her ropes all fell away as Ronnie released her entirely. Jas' arms went around my bound body, and she began to get more insistent, shrieking into the room. One hand went down to draw climax after climax from her body. At one point, she began giving fellatio to the thing protruding from my mouth. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen, and I could do nothing about it. Finally, Jas was exhausted, giggling, and panting, as she extracted herself from my lap. What I had thought was an echo, had been Veronica giving herself a few moments of her own, as Jas walked over to her.

Ronnie arose, hugged Jasmine, kissed her lightly, then handed her a small ring of keys. She looked at me, hungrily. “I'm giving Jasmine the keys to your restraints, Peter.” I began to try and shake my head 'no', again.

Jasmine walked over to me, catlike, and kissed my cheek. “Don't worry, Pete. I'll bring them back, after work, on Sunday.”

It was Friday night.

She continued, turning to Ronnie. “I can't wait to use him again.” She looked at me, one last time. “I had fun, Pete. You have no idea how much I enjoyed this. See you soon.”

My muffled “no”s fell on deaf ears, as she hugged Ronnie. Ronnie said, “don't forget us. I really would like to kiss him again.” Jas smiled at me mischievously, jingled the keys at me, dropped them into her clutch-purse, and then she was gone, the keys to my freedom with her. Ronnie crossed over to me, and began releasing my manhood from its restraint. Once it was free, she gently replaced the condom with a new one, and gingerly settled herself onto me with a contented sigh. “Now. Here are the rules. You already know you will not move or speak until Jazzie decides to come back. It's my turn to fuck you, and I want a long, hard ride. If you cannot control yourself...if you let yourself climax, before I'm ready, I'll tie it back up, tip you over, and ride that thing in your mouth, instead...then I'll hood you, and leave you by yourself until you're back up again. Ready?”

I shook my head 'no' once more, but she wasn't listening. She began grinding me, and I fought to concentrate on anything else, but it was plain I wouldn't last long without herculean effort. My brain fought with my body for control. She rode me for what seemed like forever, until she was finally exhausted. Somehow, the combination of the desensitizing nature of the condom, and me furiously reviewing multiplication tables, and reruns of Golden Girls in my head, enabled me to last long enough to sate this succubus without losing my mind, or control.

She smiled at me, and purred, “mmmm.. You are a good toy,” as she leaned in close to me, pressing her chest into mine. Her alabaster skin was flushed almost crimson, betraying her enjoyment. “You've earned a reward, Peter.” She rose, and knelt in front of me. Gently, she peeled away the sheath, exposing me to air for the first time in what had to be an hour—I couldn't see a clock. This drew a long moan from me. She moved behind me again, where I couldn't tell what she was doing. Without warning, my world went black, as she slipped a leather blindfold onto me. I “mmphed” in surprise. Buckling it tight, she whispered, “since you were such a good fucktoy, I'm going to allow you to cum. I'll give you half an hour to climax, while I sit over there and watch. You'll get no stimulation to help you, but if you manage it, I'll call Jas back over, and we'll release you, and even let you do anything you want to either of us...or both of us. If you fail, I'll tie it back up, and I get to use you again, as many times as I like, until she decides to show up.”

I mmp-ed and tried to shake my head, as she caressed my bare shoulders and chest, affectionately.

“I never imagined, when I decided to go to that ridiculous reunion, that I'd get to spend the weekend playing with my high school crush..”

'..neither did I..,' I responded in my head, moaning.

“...and his girlfriend...”

...she's not my girlfriend...

“...and indulge my kinks as well. I do like Jasmine. Don't think too harshly of her, for her part in setting up this little..,” she thought for a moment, “trap. It was all my idea, although the little minx did have some rather devious input of her own.” She kissed my cheek, gave the thing in my mouth a light stroke or two, and then said, “...such as this.” Her voice seemed to move. “ Now...are you ready? Your time starts now. Go.” from what I sensed was a few feet away.

It was going to be a VERY long—and somehow very short—weekend.

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