Tales of the Rope

Chapter 5: First Time

Chapter 5: First Time

I was wearing a brand new flower print dress. I remember very well how some of the shades of blue in the dress matched my eyes. And I remember that dress because I was wearing it the first time I was ever tied up. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

My name is Penny, and I was a tender lass of nineteen summers, all innocent and sweet, in love with a young man a few years my senior but a wonderful man. One afternoon we were talking and he quite simply came out and told me that he would like to tie me up. He said it was a fantasy of his and it would be a very big favor to him if I would do it for him. Then he added, with that sweet smile of his, that perhaps I would find it interesting, too.

Did I mention that I was young and innocent then? Well, I was, and without a second thought I smiled right back and told him to go ahead. I even put my wrists together and offered them to him.

I think that was the only time I ever saw Bob speechless. For a while he just stared at me in disbelief before he smiled right back. Then he told me to take my shoes off and he’d be right back. When he came back from the bedroom, he was carrying a handful of ropes, the white cotton clothesline type. He put that on the coffee table and gently helped me to my feet. Then he turned my back and crossed my hands behind me.

I’ll admit that a shiver of excitement raced down my spine right at the moment I felt the first loop of rope close around my wrists. I didn’t know why but this little game was very exciting and I was almost tingling all over at his touch and that of the rope. He held my hands in one of his and I could feel the rope being wrapped around and around my wrists. Then he let go of my hands and wrapped the rope around the wrists at a right angle to the other windings. He even wrapped some rope between my wrists and around all that other rope. Later I learned that rope is called a cinch and it tightens down all the other ropes and makes it much, much harder to free yourself from, usually impossible.

He knotted the rope several times and then stood back. I tried to bring my hands around in front of my body to see what they looked like but found that they would come less than half way. I could look down and see some of the windings but not all. When I turned to Bob, his eyes were shining with delight. Not a fiendish sort of delight, but genuine pleasure. I knew I was smiling back at him and wondered what I looked like. As Bob reached for another piece of rope, I asked if I could go into the bedroom to look at myself in the big mirror on the dresser. He said sure and I boldly walked into his bedroom as if that wasn’t something a nice girl like me should never do.

Did I mention that I was innocent then? I mean really innocent. Like a virgin. You know? I liked Bob a whole lot. I guess you could even say that I was in love with him. But I had been coached very well by my mother, and I knew that a good girl didn’t jump into bed with a man until she was married, and I was going to stick by that vow. One of the reasons I liked Bob so much was that he honored my wish but still dated me. It was nice to date a boy who wasn’t always pawing all over me on every date. Not that Bob didn’t try a little. It was just that he would accept a no.

So at that point I had never been in Bob’s bedroom. I was surprised to find that the bed was a big queen-sized bed, and it had a black fur bedspread on it. The sight of that bed and all that soft fur sent another wave of tingles down my spine. But I pulled my eyes away from it and turned to the mirror.

It was strange to see myself standing there, my hands behind my back. I turned slowly to bring my bound wrists into view. It was a most strange yet very pleasant feeling to see how well tied my wrists were. I could see the knots up between my wrists where my fingers could never reach. And I was impressed with how much rope he had used. My wrists were covered with the soft clothesline. Experimentally I tugged a few times, but quickly found that they were tied to stay. The ropes were tight but not painfully so.

I also noticed that the girl in the mirror was shining-eyed too. And she seemed to be breathing a little faster than normal.

I walked back into the front room and found Bob standing there with rope in his hands and a grin on his face. He asked me how I looked and I replied “Great,” without thinking about what I was saying. I looked down at the rope in his hands and asked demurely, “What is that for?”

“You’re not helpless enough,” he said simply, and those few words sent a real shiver down my back. I don’t think that any man had ever said any words that so excited me. I almost couldn’t speak. But I nodded.

The next ropes were wrapped around my chest and arms, helping to pin my arms to my body. But they also went above and below my breasts and accented them in a way that both of us found exciting. It was a wonderful feeling as his fingers wrapped each loop of white rope around my blue dress, as they went between my arms and the other rope to cinch everything down. Without a word, he sat me down on the couch and began tying my legs together.

I guess most girls would have been rather nervous by then. I mean, here I was, rapidly become more and more helpless at the hands of that marvelous hunk of man. A poor little virgin like me should have feared the worst but I didn’t. I guess I trusted Bob. Or was a first class fool.

My legs were tied together above my knees and at the ankles. He crossed my ankles before tying them so they weren’t side by side. And he cinched down the ropes so that they wouldn’t wiggle loose. When he was finished, he stood back and just gazed at me. I guess I normally would have felt uncomfortable at a man staring at my body so hard, but it felt good to have him admiring me. I could see my bound legs and the way the white rope looked so good on the nylon. I knew I was thrusting my breasts out but I didn’t care. Maybe nice girls didn’t do that but I was a girl who was bound up hand and foot, and I felt deliciously helpless. I wanted this man to enjoy what he was seeing. And to know that I had a fine body under that dress and all that rope.

I don’t recall ever having been so turned on before that moment. Not even when I had been kissing a boy I really liked. That was nice, but the feeling that flooded over me that afternoon in Bob’s apartment was something wonderful. I had never felt so sensual, so much a woman before. Without having even kissed me or touched my body, this man had turned me on. It was amazing|!

For a while I sat on the couch, posing in different positions for Bob to admire. I knew I was looking good and I liked it. I didn’t even want to think about what might happen next but the unnamed possibilities never really left my mind. Nor did the hint of fear and apprehension. Yet that feeling of being so helpless, so vulnerable, was like nothing I had ever felt before. And so very delicious.

Bob didn’t ask my permission when he brought out a ball gag made from a practice golf ball, and I didn’t protest as he put it in my mouth and strapped it behind my head. It just seemed right that I should be gagged as well as bound.