YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/cougars.sty

Text File | 1995-03-08 | 16KB | 295 lines

    The Cougars

         Cynthia flushed.  Her heart leapt, and she found herself short of
    breath.
         She had just finished getting ready for church. This was the first
    time that she had gone to church with Jeff, and she had been a little
    surprised when he had asked her. They had not been going steady very long,
    but there Jeff stood at her door, dangling a pair of shiny nickel handcuffs
    from his finger teasingly.
        "Jeff, I know that I lost the bet, but now?" she     pleaded.
           Jeff walked into her apartment. He took her by both shoulders,and
    gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Now,you knew the stakes when you made
    the bet. The Cougars lost,and the bet was that the loser spends the day as
    a prisoner, and today is your day.  My, you sure look nice!" Jeff stood
    back to admire his girlfriend.
        "Thank you," she stammered, but she was unable to take her eyes off
    the handcuffs.
        She did look nice. Her long brown hair was carefully curled, and her
    makeup nicely set off her light blue eyes. She had chosen to wear a light
    orange chiffon blouse with sheer sleeves,and a slim black leather skirt
    that came to mid calf length with a slit up past her knees. Her hose was
    seamed, and carefully centered along the back of her shapely calves,and she
    wore patent high heeled pumps.
        An extra sexy touch was the velvet black ribbon that she had tied
    about her slender throat.
        Since they were both students,Jeff usually saw Cynthia in jeans,
    although she did almost always wear a very feminine blouse and heels.
    The semester had just begun just over two weeks ago,and the two of them had
    met the first day of classes.
        Jeff had swept her off her feet. He was a senior who transferred in
    from another school to be in the business program. They met in the
    registration lines.    Things between them progressed rather quickly, and they
    were quite close after only having known each other a short time.
        At lunch,a few days before,they were talking about college football,
    which they both followed closely,and Cynthia remarked that she was certain
    that the Cougars would defeat the Bears (Jeff's home school team) by a
    sound margin. Jeff,sensing he had a fish on the line,carefully reeled her
    in.
        "Oh come on,now,"he teased. "The Cougars don't have a chance!"
         "A chance? They're going to win!" replied Cynthia. "How much do you
    want to bet?"
         "I don't like to bet money with friends,Cynthia,"said Jeff."I tell you
    what. Since we are going to church this Sunday,and we are planning to spend
    the afternoon together anyway, I'll bet you my freedom for the day that the
    Bears will win."
         Cynthia was intrigued. "What do you mean, your freedom?"
         "Simple," said Jeff. "If the Cougars win,I will be your prisoner for
    the whole day. I'll do whatever you want. I'll clean your apartment,do
    errands for you,whatever. You can even hogtie me on the floor for the    whole
    day, if you want."
         Cynthia smiled. "Hogtying you sounds fun. And if your Bears win?"
         "I thought you were so sure that they wouldn't have a chance."
         "But if they do?"
         "The same thing.  You will be my prisoner for the day."
         Cynthia thought for a minute. "I'm not sure that I want to be trussed
    up, but it seems a fair bet." She held her hand out across the table.
    "You're on!"  They shook on it.

         On Saturday afternoon,Jeff had a study group session,and he was unable
    to watch the game. It was about four o'clock when he came out of the
    library,and went back to his apartment. He picked up the phone and dialed
    Cynthia. They were going to a film that night. After a bit of small talk,
    Jeff said, "Good, then I'll be by at 7:30 to pick you up."
         "See you then," said Cynthia, almost too quickly.
         "Wait a minute," Jeff said.  "Do you know who won the game?"
         "See you at 7:30," stalled Cynthia.
         "Hey, now, I do detect a bit of reluctance to come out with the facts,
    here.  Now who won the game?"
         "The Bears won,21 to 17," said Cynthia reluctantly.
         "I knew it!"  said Jeff. "Well, it looks like I won the bet. Well,
    don't worry,even though you will be my prisoner,I'll try to see that it's
    not all bad for you. Tell me, do you prefer ropes or chains?"
         "Ropes or chains!"  exclaimed Cynthia.  "You're not going to keep me
    tied up are you?  I'll clean your     apartment, anything!"
         "The bet was that you would be my prisoner. And besides, you said that
    you would keep me hogtied. I thought that a prisoner was supposed to be
    tied up by definition."
         "OK, smarty,well,I hope that my sentence will be suspended for tonight
     at least."
         "Prisoner at the bar,I hereby declare that your sentence is for the
    night only suspended and that you will be remanded into custody there to
    be taken into restraint come the morrow's sun. Tell me,what type of gag do
    you prefer?" asked Jeff.
         "Very funny, Jeff," laughed Cynthia. "See you soon."
         "Bye, lover, pick you up at 7:30."

    . . . . . . . . .

         "Well,if you must lock those silly things on me,go ahead," said
    Cynthia reluctantly, proffering her wrists before her. "I just trust that
    you will remove them before the service?"
         Jeff took one of her wrists,and clasped the bright metal around her
    blouse cuffs between the bottom third and fourth buttons. He did not fasten
    them overly tightly,but assured himself that there was not too much play
    between her wrists and the handcuffs. She could not escape and she could
    not even succeed in moving the handcuff clasp over her blouse button. With
    one of wrists thus clasped,and its mate dangling in the air,he took her
    into his arms     and hugged her warmly.
         "Be careful,"she admonished,"you might get makeup on your jacket."
           He held her firmly at arm's length, looked at her and said,"You're
    so beautiful."
          "You didn't answer my question," she said.  "Are you
    going to take these 'cuffs off me before we go into the
    Church?"
           He kissed her firmly and deeply on the mouth.
    Cynthia hesitated a bit, then responded to him.  Her jaw
    relaxed.   Her breathing became short and quick.  After
    over a minute, they came up for air, and he said, "Let's
    go."
           "I have to fix my lipstick, and you need to get the
    pink lipstick off your lips."
           She went to the mirror, and redid her lips as the
    handcuff dangled from her wrist.  She seemed slightly
    annoyed by the dangling metal, but quickly redid herself as
    Jeff took Kleenex and removed her lipstick from his lips.
           As soon as Cynthia put the lipstick back into her
    purse, she began to examine the clasps at her wrist.  The
    free end was closed, and she asked Jeff, "Are you going to
    unlock this part, or do I just wear these like this?"
           "No need to unlock them," he said.  "They just
    ratchet through."  He demonstrated.  The clicking sound
    opened the clasp, and made them available for her wrists.
    Again, she proffered her wrists in front of her.  He took
    both of them in a firm grip, gave her a light kiss, and
    then twisted her wrists behind her back, with his arms
    around her.
           "Are you going to lock up my wrists behind me?
    That's the way they carry criminals around."
           "Well, you are my prisoner, and this is only the
    beginning of your restraint today.  In fact, just handcuffs
    are hardly sufficient to transport you to church."  He
    clasped her free wrist into the metal shackle.  She was now
    handcuffed.
           Cynthia stepped away.  She tried to look at the
    metal bands that held her wrists behind her.  With her arms
    locked up behind her back, her lacy slip and bra were
    visible through the sheer orange material of her blouse.
    Twisting her wrists in the cuffs brought her neither relief
    nor freedom.  She relaxed her efforts, allowing her wrists
    to drop, and they fell with a clatter to the small of her
    back.
           A wisp of her brown curls fell in her face, and she
    instinctively reached up to remove it.  When her motion was
    stopped by her opposite arm's inability to twist further,
    she gave her lover a dependent, exasperated look.
    "Please?" she asked.
           Instead of brushing the brown locks aside, Jeff took
    her in his arms.  Her body, convex due to the handcuff's
    locking of her wrists behind her molded against his.  She
    raised her lips to his to receive a kiss.  Instead of
    kissing her, however, he brushed the hair from her eyes
    with his lips.  He heard the single link of chain that
    joined her cuffs rattle behind her.
           Reaching into his jacket pocket, Jeff pulled out a
    set of leg irons.  Before Cynthia even had a chance to
    comment, he stooped down and swiftly clasped them about her
    ankles.
           "Now I feel like a hobbled harem girl!" said
    Cynthia.  "Jeff, you know, this is kind of sexy."
           "It sure is, just the thing for a Sunday morning
    before church.  It will give us something to look forward
    to afterwards.  Oh, there's one more thing."
           "What is it now, or dare I ask?"
           Jeff pulled out a leather strap that ran through a
    bright red rubber ball.  "What on earth is that for?"
    exclaimed Cynthia.  Jeff had taken all her generous head of
    hair in his grip, forming a ponytail, and raised the ball
    up to her mouth.  She opened, and Jeff set the ball on her
    bottom teeth and twisted down and back.  There was a bit of
    pressure required, but the ball slipped under her white
    upper teeth and seated itself firmly in the cavity of her
    mouth.
           Her eyes immediately widened, and Jeff paused for a
    moment to enjoy her reaction to this new higher level of
    bondage before tightening the strap tightly at the soft
    nape of her neck.  As the roller buckle was pulled, the gag
    bisected her jaws, and the ball was pulled further back
    into her mouth, and her lips stretched around it, forming a
    perfect seal.  Jeff took a small lock from his pocket and
    ran it through the hole closest to the buckle, making it
    impossible to unbuckle without his key.
           Cynthia tried to talk, and all that would emit from
    her mouth was feeble moans.  She clearly was not pleased
    with this latest restriction imposed upon her, but Jeff
    took her keys from her purse, left it on the table, took
    her by the arm around the soft georgette fabric of her
    blouse and lead her out her apartment door, locking it
    behind him.

    . . . . . . . . .

           Cynthia sat quietly in the car on the way back from
    Church.  Her wrists were locked in hard steel in front of
    her, and run through the seatbelt, and the leg irons had
    been reaffixed to her ankles.  The service was quite
    enjoyable.  The music was beautiful, and the sermon
    inspiring.  The rector had greeted them warmly as they
    left.
           She was trying to deal with the almost overpowering
    desire she felt for Jeff's touch throughout the service.
    He had driven her, chained up and ball-gagged to the
    Church, and when they had arrived slightly early, he had
    removed her gag and kissed her deeply.  She wanted him to
    take her right then, but said nothing, knowing that this
    would have been impossible.
           Back in the car after Church, he kissed her again,
    and smiled.  "Are you going to put me back in the handcuffs
    and the gag?" she asked.  She was almost hoping for the
    ball-gag to keep her from saying something that he might
    find too desirous or silly.
           "Handcuffs only, and this time in front of you.  And
    leg irons, of course."
           After her seatbelt was fastened, the handcuffs were
    removed from his jacket pocket and clasped about her
    wrists, and the leg irons, stored beneath the car seat were
    taken out and locked about her ankles.  He kissed her
    again, and placed his hand on her breast.  "Do you want to
    go to lunch, or would you like to go back to my apartment?"
           "Take me back to your apartment," was her reply.
           Jeff's apartment was perfectly neat.  Cynthia
    thought this unusual for a man.  Several of the pieces of
    furniture were antiques.  Cynthia was left standing in the
    living room in her chains as Jeff went into his bedroom to
    get her something "more appropriate".
           In several moments, her emerged with a complex set
    of black leather straps, and a ball-gag wrapped in Saran
    Wrap.  Throwing these on the couch, he unlocked her
    handcuffs from one wrist, but not the other.  He put his
    arms around her, and she returned his warm hug.  "Jeff,"
    she said.  "I want to feel you inside me."
           "You will," he assured her.  "But it may be a
    while."  He kissed her and pressed himself against her.
    Her desire was all the more inflamed.  Jeff began to
    unbutton her blouse down her back, and then on her wrists,
    and removed it.  He left her to stand as he went to hang it
    up in the closet.  He then removed her bra.  Her skirt was
    next, and he was pleased to see that she wore no panties,
    and she wore a garter belt with her stocking rather than
    pantyhose.
           "My compliments, beautiful lady," he said, taking
    her into his arms and kissing her once more.
           With the handcuffs still locked about her one wrist,
    he turned her about and began to strap the leather shoulder
    harness around her shoulders and buckled it, making sure
    that her shoulders were properly drawn back.  Then, he
    twisted her wrists behind her, and carefully strapped them
    together.  This strap was run through the D-ring at the
    nape of her neck, forming an anchor by which her wrists
    could be drawn up to the small of her back.  The ball-gag
    was strapped about her throat, but as yet was not inserted
    into her mouth.
           "Where did you get this harness?" she asked.
           "In New York City, when I visited there last
    summer," he said.  "I've been wanting to try it out ever
    since."
           Cynthia stood back and tested it, trying to take it
    off her shoulders.  Her bare breasts stood out at attention
    as she manipulated the black leather straps that were
    strapped about her shoulders, holding her arms suspended.
    As if it would help in some way, she bend forward, and
    wrestled with her bindings, and her brown curls fell over
    her head into her face as she stood.  The handcuffs
    dangling ineffective and redundant from her pinioned wrist
    flashed in the lamplight and rattled.
           As it became obvious that her harness could not be
    simply pulled off by her, she resorted to brute force,
    straining by pulling downward with her wrists, but these
    had been drawn up so far behind her back that it was
    difficult at best for her to get any leverage, and besides,
    these leather straps were so thick that they would have
    held a horse.  Certainly a young girl could make no
    headway.
           Defeated, she looked up at Jeff, who, holding a pair
    of leg irons, was watching her with high interest.  Cynthia
    was short of breath from her exertions against her
    constraints, and was becoming ever more frustrated by the
    desire that welling up inside her.  "You are going to
    hobble me as well, I presume?"  she asked, and proffered
    her ankle for his attentions.  This done, he took her in
    his arms, gave her a deep kiss.   He stroked her nipples
    gently.
           "Jeff, please take me to bed," she moaned in his
    ear.  He responded by kissing her again.  He looked at his
    watch, then looked up at her.
           "It's almost 2:00, time for the football game," he
    said as he unstrapped the gag from around her throat, and
    made it ready for insertion.  "Let's make another bet.
    Tell me, do you favor the Oilers or the Saints?"
           "I'll take the Oilers," she said.
           "Well," Jeff said, "It looks like this is not the
    only afternoon you will spend like this."
           She opened her mouth for her gag, knowing it would
    be a long afternoon.