Fair

She had a tendency to squirm.

She asked me to spank her, so loosened my grip on her forearms and pulled out of her body. I sat back on my heels and touched her hip. “Turn over, girl.”

She pulled herself up on her elbows sluggishly, looking at me askance. She blew hair from her face. “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

I wiped sweat from my brow. “More than likely. It’s a spanking.”

“You’re mean.” Her face twisted into a petulant scowl. “I hate you.”

“That’s enough of that,” I admonished. “Over you go.”

She kept her eyes on me as she twisted her hips. As her torso followed, she buried her face between her hands. She lowered her shoulders. “I hate you,” she repeated into a pillow.

I didn’t reply. My hands lightly caressed her shoulders, her shoulder blades, her ribs, her spine, the base of her back. I sat back as my hands enveloped her ass, so rounded for one so thin. I traced a finger between her buttocks, then used my palms to separate them. I leaned forward to gently kiss and lick her pink hole. She groaned slightly, lifting her hips to my mouth. “My good girl,” I murmured into her body. My finger traced a line along her thigh to arrive at the wetness I had only just departed.

My palm landed firm. Her body jumped and tensed. I waited as her breath slowed and her muscles relaxed. “Good, good,” I mouthed, so quietly even I didn’t quite hear my voice. The first blow was a signal of those to come. I began to spank more properly with light, quick landings on her lower buttocks, slowly but persistently calling blood to flesh. I watched as each slap pinked her skin, so pale that even this light spanking left the impression of my closed fingertips.

I surveyed her body. I rested my left hand on her slightly tensed shoulders. “Easy, easy,” I whispered. “Relax your shoulders, relax your body. Remember to breathe. Just relax to the sensation down here.” Her lower ass was warm to my touch. She nodded into the pillow, letting me know she understood. “Good, good,” I repeated. Another firm blow landed. She tensed involuntarily and drew a deep breath. Her body went limp. “So good.” I pushed back the wet hair at my temples. Now I could let loose.

Blows landed in quick succession before letting up, returning to light slaps. I paused, allowing the sting to travel her body. A loud pop resonated. I could hear her breathing quicken. Lightly, lightly I drummed on her body, for long moments, before building, building to another loud pop. She drew breath, waiting for the next gradual build up that this spanking had taught her to predict. I smiled, rested a comforting hand between her shoulders. Another sharp slap, followed by two on her other buttock.

“No, no!” She squirmed only to find she was pinned by the hand that had seemed to offer reassurance. She freed an arm and hurried a hand to cover her vulnerable ass. “No, please, please. I wasn’t expecting that . . . it hurt . . .”

“Spankings may hurt,” I agreed sympathetically. “But you could be injured if you aren’t careful.” I lifted her hand from harm’s way, gently tucking it back under her head. “No sudden moves, girl. I don’t want to accidentally harm you.” She nodded her understanding. She behaved appropriately as more spankings rained on her.

After, she rested in the crook of my arm, her body curled so that her arms were tucked under her chin. “I don’t know how you can be so mean to me when I am only nice to you,” she complained. “It’s not fair. One day I should do mean things to you and see how you like it.”

“I don’t think I would like that at all,” I tsked. “That sounds simply dreadful. I like that you are good and kind.” I ran a finger along her jaw. She turned to snap her teeth at my hand. I pulled back, surprised.

“I am not nice,” she insisted. “You just get to be the mean one because you know how to do things. If I knew how to do things, I would be very mean to you. You are mean to me so I should get to be mean to you. That’s only fair.”

I chucked her chin. “You’re cute when you think things should be fair.”

She brushed aside my hand and frowned. “Asshole. You know it isn’t fair.”

“Well then, tell me what you would do, if only you knew how.” I moved slightly to better see her face. “What do you have in mind?”

She pulled back her hair, trying to pack away her prettiness so that she would be taken seriously. “I know what I would do. I think about it all the time. I would get me a big piece of rope—really, really long—and I would tie you up in a sad little bundle. Then I would put things in your butt and listen to you cry.” She punched my ribs. “Like the way you do me, only meaner. Because really, deep down, I’m meaner than you.”

I took her fist in my hand and kissed it. “Little sister, there ain’t enough bourbon in Kentucky for me to let you do that.”

“You wouldn’t let me.” She flicked my chest. “I would do what I wanted. But you think you have all the advantages just because you know how to do things I don’t know how to do.” Watching as I nonchalantly placed my hand between her and my nipple, she recalled her growing awareness of my Achille’s heels. “I just realized something, Daddy,” she smiled, resting her hand on my thigh. “We haven’t done anything with rope. Nothing at all. Don’t you want to show your little girl how to tie people up?”

I laughed. “You’re cute when you’re transparent. If I teach you about knots, how long before I wake up hogtied?”

“I don’t know how long it would take.” She looked at my bedside clock. “Would you like a bourbon, Daddy?”

I laughed again and pushed her down. I kissed and fucked her for being so clever. But soon enough, she had her way and I was unpacking rope. “Come here, girl,” I said. I rubbed a strand of rope against her bruised and tender breasts. “Now, this is nylon. See how soft and nice it feels?”

She nodded. “I like the color, too.”

“Yeah, this is all very pretty. It looks good on flesh; heck, see how nice it looks on the floor. All of this, I got from Venus Ropes. Now, feel this hemp.” I rubbed another strand against her other sore breast. “See how much rougher it feels?” She nodded. “Can you guess which one I’m going to use on you?”

She shifted her weight to one hip. “You’re the meanest person ever.”

I nodded. “You keep believing that, sugar.” I tossed a loop over her head. “I’ve got nothing on the cruel bastards in this town, but until you know better, I suppose I’m a badass.” I tied a loop between her breasts and fielded her questions as I worked rope into designs down and around her body. In short order, her long torso was entirely enveloped in an intricate web. “I think that turned out rather nicely,” I allowed. “Go look in the mirror and tell me what you think.”

I watched as she turned before a full-length mirror. “What did you do to my ass?” she asked, looking over a shoulder. “It looks so much higher.”

“You think?”

“I do.” She turned, cupping her small breasts in her hands. “And why are my tits so pointy?” She squinted at the mirror. “Wait, are they turning purple?”

I took a breast in hand and squeezed. “Are they? Gee, that’s odd. I hope the knot between your legs isn’t too tight . . . no, I can feel there’s a little space left there . . . see? I can easily slip my fingers into you.”

She grasped my shoulders as I lifted into her. “You totally suck,” she moaned, slapping my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, grasping her arms behind her back. “I didn’t mean to leave you so vulnerable.” I pushed her back on the bed.

After she came, I sat back. “See? It’s really nice how I can grab this rope to move you to where I want you to be.” I lifted her torso again, tossing her across the bed, twisting so that my cock didn’t leave her pussy. “You’re like a life-sized rag doll.” I tossed her again on the axis of my body. “How fun is that?”

“You are such an asshole,” she complained. “I thought you were going to show me how to tie you up.”

“Tie me up?” I cocked my head. “Oh, right; I remember something about that. Well, this mess, this has nothing to do with restraint. This is just bondage, like macramé for your body. See? Your arms and legs are totally free. That would never work with me. I’d just get away.”

“Then you should show me how to restrain you.” She squirmed away, pulling herself from my cock. “Come on, this isn’t fair.”

“Right.” I nodded. “You want fairness. Okay, come on, I’ll show you some restraints.”

“Thank you.” She stood and slapped my shoulder. “Asshole. Come on, seriously, I want to tie you up.”

“Right behind you.” I followed her to the rope carefully aligned in the next room. I asked her to stand still as I unraveled the hemp on her body. “Did you notice how few knots I used?” I asked. “This design is just tension. You could do this pretty quickly with practice, no special skill required.”

“No, I did not notice.” Her eyes glared. “Because you didn’t teach me. You just did this to me. I don’t know how to do it to you.”

“Oh, didn’t I explain that?” I loosened her breasts, pinching the lines between purple and pale flesh. “Sorry. We’ll do better with restraints. It’s really very simple to learn the basics. I’ll show you one column and two column ties.”

“One and two what?” She turned her neck as I lifted the last of the rope from her body. I rubbed the rough outlines of hemp in her bare skin, assuring her they would fade in no time.

I tossed aside the length of hemp and retrieved two shorter pieces of nylon. “Now, any single post you want to tie with rope can be considered a ‘column,” I began. “A column can be a fencepost, a dock, a bedpost, an arm or a leg.” I took her wrist in my hand. “See how I folded this rope over evenly? Now I’m going to wrap the rope around your wrist three times, keeping it loose enough to slip a couple of fingers between the column and the rope . . . see? That way, you won’t restrict blood flow. Less of a problem with intimate objects . . .” She watched closely as I went on, tying a square knot to secure the restraint in place. I lifted her arm over her head to show how it was now subject to whatever I wanted to do with it. I repeated the lesson for a two-column tie, once more lifting her arms over her head. I tugged and she stood to follow. “Nice,” I nodded. “See, I could haul you right back to bed . . .”

“No, you don’t.” She pulled back on the rope. “Now I get to do you. Get me out of this rope so I can tie you up.”

“Oh, that’s right. Fairness. Here, it’s easy to untie this.” I untied the knot, unraveled the rope and handed it to her. “So now, you restrain me.” I held out my arm. She doubled the rope and carefully wrapped my wrist three times, just as I had wrapped hers. I watched as she executed a fine square knot. My arm was completely in her command. She tugged. My arm followed. “Nice work, little sister,” I commended. “I swear, you’ll surpass all I know in no time.”

She smiled. “Yeah, you are totally my bitch now.” She tried to pull me from the couch, but I resisted, pulling her back.

“Not so fast, cowgirl. Let’s try the double column.” I began to untie my wrist, musing aloud. “You know, this tie is great when you want to have someone spread-eagle; you know, tie each wrist and ankle just so and secure the ends to bedposts, and that person isn’t going anywhere. I used to do that more, but maybe I’m getting lazy now that I have under-the-bed restraints.”

She leaned forward. “Wait, what? You have under-the-bed restraints? How have I known you so long and not known that?” She turned to look at the bedroom door.

“Well, I suppose you don’t know because they are very discreet.” I removed the rope from my wrist and rubbed my forearm. “They are tucked away between the mattress and box spring, just waiting until they are needed. I have to tell you, they are very handy if you decide in the heat of the moment that you want someone restrained. Used to be, I’d have to stop what I was doing, pull out some rope and move around the bed tying knots. That interruption could kill a moment. Not to mention, it could allow your partner to resist or even escape. With these, I just reach under the mattress, slap on the cuffs and continue doing whatever I was doing.”

She kicked my calf. “You mean to tell me all this time I could’ve restrained you while you were asleep and you couldn’t have stopped me?”

I grabbed her foot. “Why do I think I’m going to regret telling you this? Now, let me get a longer rope and show you the double column tie . . .”

“No, fuck that.” She pulled her leg from my hand and stood. “Come on, I want to see these under-the-bed restraints.”

“Come on, then.” I grabbed a breast and pulled. “Let’s go take a look.” She followed, her breast in my grip. I released her in the bedroom and bent to lift the mattress. “See? There’s a cuff at each corner, all connected by straps to that central strap. The straps are all nylon, but look here.” I handed her a cuff. “The cuffs are secured by Velcro, so you can easily close them with one hand. That’s useful, because you can use your other hand to hold someone down, or use a toy, or whatever, so you don’t need to stop what you’re doing to attach a restraint. Plus, look: there are metal clips so you can remove the cuffs from the straps. That allows your partner to be moved or attached to some other device. Like, say you decided you wanted her upright. You could take this all over to a closet door, rig it up the same way—using the door as I’m using the mattress—and there you go.”

She studied the cuff in her hand. “Say, why don’t you lay on the bed?”

I lowered the mattress. “Tell you what, why don’t you lay on the bed? It’s better that you see how it feels to try something before you do it to someone else.”

“I guess that’s fair,” she agreed. “How do you want me—on my back or on my front?”

I leaned forward to kiss her collarbone, resting a hand on her protruding hip. “Better get on your belly,” I said, brushing my hand across her flat abdomen. “If I have you on your back, I’ll just want to fuck you some more.”

She scoffed. “Seems like anyway I move, that thing winds up in me.” She turned to crawl onto the bed. I noticed small purple bruises already taking form on her ass. My cock jumped.

She sprawled on the bed with her arms outstretched. “Like this?”

“Like that,” I nodded, “But with your legs spread further apart.” I took a leg and moved it to the corner of the bed. She extended her other leg to the opposite corner; she was very nearly tall enough to reach all corners. I reached under the mattress to retrieve a cuff. “Now, these straps are adjustable,” I said, quickly securing her. “So if the next person to find herself in this situation happens to be shorter than a bean pole, I can fix the length.”

“I may have to do that when I put you up here,” she teased.

“You very may well,” I replied, securing her other ankle. I ran a hand up her leg, enjoying the view of her splayed body. I crawled onto the bed, lowering my body onto hers. My cock pressed between her buttocks. “Now, let’s say I was fucking your ass . . .”

She squirmed. “No, you are not fucking my ass again. You are just showing me how to use these things.”

I moved hair from her upturned ear. “I didn’t say I was fucking your ass,” I whispered. “I said ‘let’s say I was fucking your ass.’ Now, if I was fucking your ass, I could hold your arm in one hand . . .” I grabbed a wrist. “With the other, I could reach for the cuff.” I leaned forward to pull a strap from its hiding place. With two fingers and a thumb, I worked the Velcro into place. “See? All done. Now to finish the job.” She tugged against the cuff as I secured her other wrist. “See how easy that was?” I nibbled her ear lobe. “And now you are in no position to resist me.” My mouth moved to the back of her neck. I felt a muscle move under my lips.

“Oh yeah?” She laughed, waving her freed right arm. “Look at this. Look how easily I could get away.” Her body squirmed under mine.

“Not bad, Houdini.” I reached for the discarded cuff with one hand, grabbing her arm with the other. “Now, it’s true: Velcro attachments aren’t as binding as rope. If you were truly my prisoner, I’d want something more reliable. But if I attach this more firmly . . . okay, now try it.” She tugged her arm. The restraint didn’t give. “Now you’re trapped, aren’t you?”

“I guess I am.”

I sat up and adjusted the remaining cuffs. “Yes, I suppose I’d say you are.” I lowered myself to her again, returning my mouth to her back. My tongue traced around her shoulder blades. She quivered as my tongue reached the base of her left blade. “Nice, thank you,” I whispered. I bit slowly, pressing for the muscle that had caused that reflex. She flinched. I bit harder. I could feel her body squirm, but now, her hands were unable to swat me away. Now, there was less potential of harming herself. I dug in.

I moved to the other shoulder blade, searching for the reflexive twin. It soon made itself apparent. I marked the second spot, like the first, with my teeth.

I chewed my way across the soft flesh at the curve of her upper back, just under her shoulder blades, enjoying this expanse, unusual on her body, where flesh and muscle were not so tightly joined. She moaned and squirmed as I made my way back and forth, sometimes soothing her with my hand at the base of her neck, other times grabbing fists full of ass and hips.

Biting with my incisors, I could feel my molars grind in expectation that torn flesh would soon be on its way. I calmed their frustrations by gnawing as if chewing gum.

I sat back on her thighs, drugged from her taste. I became lost in thought, absent-mindedly circling her body with my thumb. She looked at me over her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Not a thing,” I lied. I leaned forward and opened the drawer holding condoms and lube. “Okay, ready or not, we’re fucking.”

Hours later, she slipped a bookmark into Middlesex and dropped the book to the floor. “I’m going to sleep,” she yawned, sliding her body down under a quilt. “I don’t know why I’m so sore.”

I watched over my book as she turned on her side. I ran a finger along the bruises taking shape across on her back. The next day, she would realize that these marks completed the circle begun with her breasts, a circle I had previously outlined with hemp. My souvenir for her; the next day, she would be leaving for home. For days following, she wouldn’t be able to wear a bra without thinking of me.

“I’m so tired,” she mumbled. “Can you turn off my light?” I rested my book on the quilt and leaned over to pull a lamp’s cord. I kissed her hair. “I just realized,” she said. “I was supposed to put you in restraints, but we never did that.” She curled her body around a pillow. “So unfair. I hate you.”

I returned to my pillows. “Tomorrow’s another day, little sister.” I reached for my book. “Night.”

Under-the-bed restraints are discreet, adjustable and require no special skill to use. They are a handy addition to any pervert’s arsenal and just as much fun for neophytes curious to try something a bit restrictive.



Under-the-Bed Restraints