![]() I could now do to her whatever I wanted and she couldn't do anything to stop me. I felt a rush of excitement at this statement. She looked at the image skeptically and then back to me. "Thank you, but we're not quite done," I pointed to the magazine. "Wow, you really did do a good job," she murmured, testing the ropes. I finished by tying the rope around her thighs and the chair seat so she could not move her legs around. ![]() I could see the welts of her stockings peaking out. I tied her knees together rope rubbing against nylon. ![]() ![]() She squeaked when my hand brushed the sole of her left foot. I removed her heels to make the task a little easier. I worked my way down to her legs, tying her ankles together. She was now tightly fastened to the chair. I wrapped a rope round her body, running the line just below her breasts. Then I wrapped another around the elbows, looser this time. I began by tying her hands behind her back, working behind the chair's support. I looked back at the woman sitting in the chair in front of me, expectant. Then I looked down at the reference image that I had. I collected my feelings, breathing heavily. A mixture of both excitement and terrified anticipation filling me at the same time. She took off her jacket and sat down upon it. I returned to the room and picked up a sturdy wooden chair from the side of the room. I wondered into my room, picking up the rope from underneath my bed. It was the one with the red haired lady, naked and tied tightly to a wooden chair. She brought the magazine with her and pointed to the page I'd seen before. We finished eating and we both walked up into her bedroom. "No, but I would like to try it out." She looked at me firmly. Even if we weren't related and didn't really see each other in such a way it still somehow sounded wrong. I felt my heart slowly beginning to pound. "Yeah, what's the harm? I have experience and you have an interest." She laughed but then noticed my expression. "I could tie you up," I offered as I finished the sandwiches on my plate. A takeaway might have upset my already tingling stomach. It was brief as we didn't have much to eat. I felt slightly uncomfortable talking about bondage with my step-mom so tried to change the subject. As in, I've never explored myself in that way." My step-mom soon found out about that, though I had made her swear never to tell my Dad or anyone else. That was a few years ago now and hadn't exactly been a very fine moment. I remembered one time that I had managed to tie myself up so well that my older sister had found me and had to help me get free. I had become surprisingly good at tying knot around my wrist and ankles. It was a poorly kept secret of mine that I enjoyed trying out bondage on myself. "Well of course you'd know all about that," she said, mischievously. "No one has just a passing interest in bondage." I just had a passing interest, you know?" I asked her, jokingly, if that was why she'd been reading through a bondage magazine. She began talking about how she always had trouble with tying knots. Eventually the conversation made its way back to the contents of the magazine. We tried to avoid the subject of the job interview. It felt weird to look at her in this way, but she looked really pretty. She wore a tight, white, buttoned-up shirt a formal black jacket a short black skirt heels and what I assumed were pantyhose. "I could order a takeaway for dinner? I understand how stressful it's been." "Sorry, I shouldn't have seen that," I said, laughing it off. I got a brief glimpse of the contents a red-haired lady tied to a chair, completely naked. She quickly shifted her position on the couch, hiding the magazine behind her. I walked into the room and sat beside her, comfortingly. I felt terrible for her, but there was very little I could do. I was a relatively skinny guy with messy blonde hair. She was more of an acquaintance who happened to live with me because of family connections.Īs for myself, I had just turned 18 at the time. I had never really seen her as much of a mother. She was also incredibly curvy, regularly visiting the gym. Unlike the rest of my family, she was a brunette. That day, she'd come home from work and was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading a magazine.Īt 35, she was 10 years younger than my dad was. Lately, they'd both been drifting apart and for me it had awoken memories of him and my mom before the divorce. My father was out on a week-long business trip. She'd failed a job interview (again) and was worrying about the state of the marriage. My step-mother had had a very frustrating day. I would have never expected her to take such a fascination in what I had to offer.
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