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From: Crimson Dragon <dcrimson@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASS/M} New: Ash (FF, cons, bdsm, emotion)
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Well, I didn't have any new stories ready to post this week, so I 
chose to repost the last story I wrote four years ago, again under 
the name reddragon. It will be new to nearly all of you, so I marked 
it as such in the subject line.

This story is a little different than 'Heat' or 'Thunder Ridge' - it
is longer, more intense, and explores a different aspect of bondage.
The story explores the realms of female/female love, friendship, and
sexuality. It contains consensual bondage, discipline, control, and
even some light pain play, which isn't normal for my short story
writings. It also explores the loving and caring aspects of all of
it. This isn't the prequel to Time Out Of Time, if you are looking
for (or concerned about) more of that.

As usual, if any of the above is going to bother you, I'd prefer if
you left this story and didn't read it. Minors ... the same goes for
you. It wasn't written for you, and you won't like it anyway.

The story is a bit rougher technically than my newer stories, but in
my defense, I did write it nearly four years ago. I was, and still
am, learning. I managed to lose a small portion of the story in the
middle where I had to re-write. The section was small (I hope), and
the only other changes from four years ago were glaring
grammatical problems that I couldn't resist fixing. I didn't
fix all of them, just the ones that really glared.

I hope that you enjoy this last story from my past, and if you do or
do not, I'd still like to hear from you at dcrimson@yahoo.com.

-Crimson



Ash [ FF, cons, bdsm, emotion, control, release ]

(c) 1994 Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)

(originally posted under the name reddragon)


Hot air blasted from the vents as she manoeuvred through the traffic.
Horns blaring, the slight smell of exhaust. She shook her head in
frustration as, beside her, a traffic cowboy began to stray in front
of her car. She slammed on the brakes, barely restraining herself
from cursing and leaning on the horn. She reminded herself that
people were idiots and that she would soon be home.

She didn't need the headache that was fast approaching. Her day at
the office had been an exercise in hell. It was everything she could
do not to quit today. She couldn't contain a smile. That really would
have screwed their precious project. Then they could quibble about
who would next lead the project. It was never ending. The petty
bickering. The office politics. No wonder nothing ever got done. She
shivered despite the heater in the old Pontiac. Idly she hoped that
Ash had made some dinner tonight. She glanced at her watch. She was
late for any sort of dinner. Again she considered what it would take
to quit. At least her stress would get back under control.

As she finally wandered up her quiet street towards her house, her
neighbour decided to back down his driveway without so much as a
glance at the road. She slammed on the brakes, and with a great
screeching of tires and scorching of rubber she managed to narrowly
miss his rear bumper. She let her head down on the steering wheel and
silently wept. Her tears only vaguely easing her frustration. When
she finally looked up, Mr. Johnson had disappeared. She shook her
head, wiped away her tears of frustration and turned into her
driveway. As she opened her door, the cold took her breath away. It
must be a record today, she thought as she struggled against the
wind. The wind tore at her clothing and at her hair as she fumbled
for her keys and slipped into the warmth of the house.

Shivering, she kicked off her shoes. She sighed as her nyloned feet
touched the floor. Those shoes must be the most uncomfortable
contraptions ever invented, she silently complained. She looked up
and was surprised to see that the house was dim. Normally, Ash kept
all the lights on, especially if she was here alone. She glanced into
the dining room from the front alcove. The table was set impeccably.
Two candles sat in the centre of the table, unlit. She could hear Ash
fussing in the kitchen. Slowly it dawned on her what was in store for
the evening. She sighed contentedly. She could use the diversion.

Finally beginning to warm up, she slipped her suede jacket from her
shoulders and hung it in the closet. She thought about it. Why am I
doing this? She still hadn't quite come to grips with herself ... or
with Ash. But it felt so right. She knew she was going to go through
with it. Might as well continue. As she thought about the night ahead
of her, her stomach exploded with tiny little butterflies. She still
had trouble recognising the tingling in her stomach as anticipation.
Perhaps a little anxiety.

She tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths. Her nose picked up
the unmistakable scent of chicken cooking in the kitchen with Ash.
She tried to calm her fingers as she unbuttoned her blouse. She
shuddered slightly as the material slid down her skin. She dropped it
at her feet. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her
conservative skirt and slipped it down her nyloned legs until it
pooled at her feet. Nimbly she stepped out of the circle of her
skirt. She hesitated slightly as she reached behind herself to unclip
her bra. She considered putting back on her clothes and walking down
to the kitchen. But she couldn't do that. She wanted tonight. She
needed tonight.

The brassiere fell with the rest of her clothing at her feet. She
felt the slightly chilled air against her bare breasts; she loved
that feeling. Embarrassed slightly, she noticed her nipples hardening
with her thoughts and the cool air. Her nylons slipped off her legs
and she sighed as she scratched her calves. That felt wonderful, her
bare legs, her bare feet against the cold floor. She flexed her bare
toes feeling the floor as she never could in shoes and socks. She
slowly slipped her panties down her bare legs and lightly flicked
them away with her right foot.

Now came the hard part. She fought her mind. It is not wrong she
wailed to herself. She felt the familiar tingling in her midriff as
she found herself slowly sinking to her knees onto the cold hard
floor. She could feel the ceramic tile beneath her bare knees, harsh
and unfeeling. She leaned forward until she was on all fours. She
could hear Ash stirring a pot in the kitchen, just out of sight. Her
hands felt the harsh tile; she was aware of the cold unyielding tile
against the top of her bare feet. She realised how she looked and
cringed inwardly. A naked woman, about to crawl to the dinner table.
She shivered in anticipation and willed herself to move her hands and
knees in a familiar crawling motion.

She was aware of her body as she always was when she was playing.
Even though no one was watching, she still felt her humiliation. Ash
could walk in at any moment. It wasn't as though she had never seen
it before, but the nude woman still wasn't quite used to the
humiliation. She had done this to herself. She could feel her bare
breasts swinging gently as she crawled. The cool air ruffling her
hair, and between her legs. The harsh cold floor beneath her knees,
her hands, her feet. She struggled with her feelings but continued
until she reached the dinner table. She knelt docilely beside the
chair she knew Ash would use and waited.

Ash walked in moments later carrying a book of matches. A smile
played in her soft lips and she leaned over and ruffled her hair.

"You finally made it home, Trish? Hmmmm?", her smile never leaving
her face.

Ash bent down and lightly kissed her housemate's forehead. Trish knew
that an answer was not required and merely bowed her head after the
kiss. A slight smile played on her lips.

Ash smiled as she lit the candles on the table. "Wonder what fun we
can have with these later?".

Trish shuddered, wondering how it would feel. The butterflies
exploded in her stomach again.

Ash urged her housemate to crawl over to remaining chair. Trish
climbed up into the chair and sat quietly, aware of her nudity, and
that Ash had just witnessed her crawling like she was some sort of
animal. Trish idly wondered how Ash ever knew when to provide these
distractions. She felt Ash slowly and sensually wrapping soft cord
around her bare right ankle. She shivered at Ash's touch and at the
feeling of the cord against her skin. She felt her ankle being
secured to the chair leg. She pulled gently at her leg, but there was
no give to Ash's knots. Ash knelt down and firmly attached her left
leg to the other chair leg. Trish held her hands behind the chair and
waited while Ash slipped another length of cord around her wrists
tying it off somewhere below. Trish tested her wrists. No movement up
or down. She was helpless and vulnerable in the chair. Naked.

She watched quietly as Ash wound more cord above and below her bare
breasts, not uncomfortably, but enough to prevent her from leaning
forward or rising out of the chair. She struggled with the ropes for
a moment and then finally, began to relax. She felt her tension leave
her body as though it was a sparrow suddenly released from its cage.
She sighed feeling her restraint and freedom simultaneously.

Without a word, Ash rose to her feet and wandered back into the
kitchen.

Trish felt her relaxation and idly watched the flames of the candles
as they flickered free as her soul. Her mind slipped back in time to
her first time.

She had always known that she was different. She couldn't quite
understand her feelings. She had always been fascinated by restraint.
She had fought it, of course. She couldn't understand it. It made no
sense. Restraining someone caused the butterflies. That wasn't
normal. Reactions that she was ashamed of. Reactions that she
couldn't deny. Television heroes and heroines. Helpless and
vulnerable. She shivered whenever she saw it. When she was old
enough, she began to experiment with self-bondage. Of course, she had
no idea what it was called back then, she just enjoyed the feelings
that it invoked. As she grew older, she had tried so hard to stop.
She had known it was dangerous. Dangerous if she had been caught.
What if her parents had walked in, their daughter nude and tying
herself into the most amazingly elaborate schemes? She would have
died.

She and Ash had been roommates all through college. And it wasn't
until the last year that Ash had finally caught her. She had been so
ashamed when Ash found her pretending to be hogtied, buck naked, her
hands wrapped in cord, her legs bound tightly and pulled back behind
her. Her body face down on the floor in the middle of her room. She
had been careless. Forgotten to lock the door. It was sort of amusing
thinking back on it. Ash thought at first that a burglar had done it.
But Trish had only been pretending ... and in a humiliated panic had
freed her hands. Ash had understood. After helping to untie her legs,
they talked well into the night about the strange feelings that Trish
had. Ash made no judgments. She had even heard of such things before.
Everyone is different she had told Trish. There is no such thing as
normal. Early in the morning, when they had been too exhausted to
talk anymore, Ash had asked whether Trish had ever truly been tied
up. Trish had answered no, that she had always had to have some way
out. That she had never trusted anyone to do that to her. Ash slowly
picked up the rope that had previously bound Trish and looked at her
roommate questioningly. The butterflies had exploded in Trish again
and she dumbly nodded. She had watched in fascination, as for the
first time, someone else took control and wrapped the rope around her
ankles. Ash had then tied her hands behind her back and pulled the
covers over her friend. The bonds were not constricting at all, but
Trish couldn't pull out of them. Contentedly, she had fallen asleep
in the ropes.

When she had awoke in the morning, she felt slightly disoriented. The
butterflies returned as soon as she had tried to move and found the
ropes still holding her limbs. She was about to call out when she
noticed Ash sitting quietly in her desk chair watching her. The
feelings of helplessness and vulnerability were like a drug. Ash
could have done anything to her and she couldn't have stopped it. But
she had just stayed and watched over her, sensing that Trish still
needed time to understand. She slowly got out of the chair and slowly
released her friend from the ropes. Trish sighed as she watched Ash
simply leave without a word. No words were needed. Ash slept the rest
of the day as Trish tried to remember everything. How it had
happened. What it had felt like. She felt wonderfully alive and
stress free. Her exams were a forgotten memory. Her life felt like a
new beginning. A new chapter.

Since those college days, Ash had always been there for her as she
began to understand what she wanted and needed in her life. At times
like these, when life got so hard it made her cry, Ash was there.
Understanding. Providing. Somehow, Ash just knew. Trish smiled and
pulled at her bonds. She idly wondered what was in store for her
tonight. What was for dinner? What was Ash planning with the candles?
How long was she going to be secured in this chair? She squirmed and
tried to be patient.

Trish closed her eyes and waited. As Ash finally came in she opened
her eyes to the soft footsteps of Ash carrying a steaming bowl of
soup to the table. Ash set it down in front of Trish and leaned
forward to give her friend a soft kiss on the forehead. Then
wordlessly she took a spoonful of soup, tested it for heat with her
tongue, and raised it to the bound girl's lips. Unconsciously, Trish
tried to raise her hand to take the spoon and was quickly reminded of
her helplessness. Ash knew what she was doing. Trish couldn't do
anything but eat, like a helpless child. Trish relaxed in her ropes
and docilely ate the offered soup. Ash took the next spoonful for
herself and alternated between herself and Trish. Soon the soup was
finished and Ash rose to her feet and took the dish to the kitchen.
As soon as Ash had risen, Trish whimpered softly. "Shhhhh, my little
one, there's more ...", she chided Trish as she disappeared into the
kitchen.

Trish could hear Ash preparing the next course in the other room. She
pulled against the ropes that held her nude body to the chair. Again
she wondered, why ever would Ash do this for her? It couldn't be all
that appetising for the other woman having a naked woman on display
during dinner. Yet, here she was with the butterflies of anticipation
fluttering through her. She glanced down at herself seeing the ropes
holding her torso and her bare breasts poking through them. She felt
the familiar stirring that always accompanied the sight of ropes on
bare flesh. "Guess it's not that bad having a naked woman at the
dinner table", she whispered to herself. She was pulling weakly at
her wrist ropes when Ash reentered the dining area carrying a
delectable chicken and rice dish which she set in front of Trish.
Trish leaned forward as far as she could inhaling the aromas of the
hot food, her stomach growling. Ash just smiled and let Trish enjoy
her labours. Ash spooned out some of the food out of the casserole
dish releasing a new batch of steam. Less food ended up on Trish's
plate, but she made no complaint, only a very low whimper of
disappointment.

Ash quickly finished off the plate in front of her, glancing from
time to time at Trish just across the table. Trish squirmed in her
restraint, hungry and begging to be fed with her eyes. Ash smiled,
knowing exactly what the other woman wanted and needed tonight.
Control. She needed to give it up completely for the night. Then she
would be all right.

Ash wiped her mouth deliberately with her napkin and glided to the
opposite side of the table. Lifting Trish's fork, she began to slowly
feed her housemate. The aroma of the still hot chicken and rice drove
the bound woman to salivate uncontrollably as she strained to gather
the food faster into her waiting mouth. All too soon, the dish was
clean. Her belly felt comfortably full and she sighed in contentment.

Trish watched helplessly as Ash reached into her handbag and removed
a new toy. Trish recognised the leather strap but did not understand
the meaning behind the bright red ball attached in the middle.
Realisation dawned on her as the ball was pressed gently to her lips.
Trish opened her mouth as Ash slipped the gag into her mouth
effectively silencing her housemate. Trish felt her mouth stretch to
accommodate the ball, savouring the sensations of helplessness. The
gag completed her withdrawal from control. She couldn't even speak to
communicate her desires. Completely at Ash's whims. She smiled as
best she could around the oral intrusion.

Satisfied for the moment, Ash began to gather the dishes from the
table.

"I should have you clean these with your tongue," Ash remarked as she
disappeared into the kitchen with a mischievous grin playing on her
face.

Trish could hear Ash running water into their kitchen sink. Her mind
wandered as the water lulled her thoughts. Her arms were beginning to
ache a bit from being held in the same position for the better part
of an hour. She pulled at her bound wrists and tried to adjust her
position. But the ropes held her body firmly and all she could do was
bite thoughtfully at the gag and relax into her restraints. She found
herself pulling at her ankles wanting to stretch out.

Ash returned silently carrying a single cup of coffee. Trish looked
longingly at the cup, but accepted that she wasn't to have any
tonight - that it was Ash's will. Ash settled herself into in the
adjoining chair and just gazed at her nude friend, the ropes, her
filled mouth, her powerlessness. After a while, she leaned forward to
kiss her housemate on her forehead. They both needed this.

"You ready?" Ash's asked the bound woman in front of her.

Trish simply nodded.

Ash began to slowly release Trish from her constricting ropes. Her
ankles, her torso, and finally her wrists. Trish rubbed gently at her
wrists, gazing at the red welts buried into her soft skin by the
ropes. She bit at her gag, her eyes pleading with Ash to remove it.
Ash just smiled and waited for Trish to rub the stiffness from her
body. Knowing what she wanted to do, and fighting herself all the
way, Trish slowly slipped off the chair seat and onto her knees.
Rough carpet beneath her bare knees and along her shins. She waited
for Ash to guide her. Ash let her kneel there for a few minutes while
she sipped at her coffee.

Finally Ash gathered up the fine hair at the back of Trish's head and
guided the nude woman to all fours. Slowly Trish crawled at Ash's
gentle leash of her own hair. She was very aware of herself. In the
office, she was a different person. Her attitude, her clothes, her
demeanour, her control. All so different than the nude woman crawling
at the feet of her housemate like a pet, an animal. Which was really
her? Trish knew. She fought it, but she knew. Ash knew as well.
Perhaps the only two people in the world. Trish reluctantly accepted
herself and continued her slow crawl. Her jaw was beginning to ache
from the pressure of her gag, but it was not unbearable.

Trish felt the coolness of the air against her bare skin. The flow of
the air about her body. The muffled sounds she made as she moved her
body in the rhythm of the crawl. The coolness of the tile as she
crossed the hall. The gently pull and soft pain of Ash's guiding hand
entangled in her hair. The swing of her breasts between her arms. The
slight smell of the coffee that Ash carried. She felt alive; more
alive and free than all the countless hours she has spent in the
confines of her office and her car. No phone to answer, no memos to
write. No worries. She was free to feel, to lose herself to
sensations.

Together, they reached the family room. Trish was led to the coffee
table, just in front of the sofa. Ash smoothed Trish's hair and then
patted the table. Knowing what was expected from her, Trish moved her
body up onto the table. Face up. Vulnerable. Ash bent down and softly
kissed each of her breasts. Trish gasped at the sensation as well as
she could with the ball wedged in her mouth. Ash then wrapped the
soft cord back around Trish's wrists, gently manoeuvring them above
her head. Another rope secured the wrists there. Her legs were spread
and attached securely to the table legs at the opposite side of the
table. Ash placed her coffee down on the table between Trish's spread
thighs. She then wrapped the remainder of the soft rope about her
housemate's waist securing her fully to the table.

It was an uncomfortable position, but Trish was still savouring the
gentle touch of Ash's lips on her breasts. She pulled weakly at her
restraints, but didn't need to test them to know that she was
helpless. Control. She felt the unusual chill of the room against her
bare skin. Her nipples tightened further as the cool air brushed them
as Ash's lips had but moments before.

Ash wandered over to the fireplace and began to build a low fire,
just enough to take the chill off the room. The crackle of the fire
and the flickering glow was somehow comforting and relaxing. Trish
could feel the dry heat of the fire against her bare flank. She
pulled again at the bonds and finally relaxed. Her mind was releasing
itself. Rather than worry about what would happen to her, she found
herself slipping into a state of quiet acceptance. Ash wouldn't hurt
her.

Ash returned and picked up her coffee from the table, brushing her
fingers lightly along Trish's bare thigh. Trish squirmed to prolong
the sensation, but Ash simple retired to the sofa, content to watch
the dancing flames and gaze over the nude woman held in front of her.
She gathered up the remote control and switched on the stereo. The
Moody Blues filled the room with soft music. The swelling music
lulled Trish to close her eyes and enjoy, even though she was
beginning to envy Ash her comfortable seat in the plush sofa. She
squirmed again against the unyielding surface of the table; made an
incoherent noise into her gag. Ash smiled at her, knowing that she
hadn't quite given herself up, but was well on the way. She would
heal tonight. Ash sipped at her coffee and trailed her fingers idly
along her housemate's bare skin, sending shivers through the bound
woman. She would relax in her own way.

Trish closed her eyes. The swelling notes from the speakers haunted
her ears, interrupted by the crackle of the fire. She acutely felt
the ropes against her skin holding her, caressing her. The ache in
her jaws, the faint smell of her shampoo. Her senses exploded. She
faintly shook her head and opened her eyes. She turned to look at Ash
to plead with her to remove the gag. Ash was no longer buried in the
sofa. She hadn't even heard her leave. Straining her ears, Trish
thought that she heard her in the kitchen perhaps brewing another cup
of coffee. She relaxed again and waited quietly for her return.

A few minutes later, Ash ascended the short flight of steps into the
living room. She gazed at the restrained woman on the coffee table.
Her eyes danced in the glow of the fire. Trish saw the candles in her
hands and her eyes riveted to them. Instinctively, she found herself
pulling of her bonds and had to calm herself. Control. She relaxed
again, but her helpless body wouldn't completely stop shivering. She
tried to ask Ash, but all that emerged from her filled mouth was
unintelligible moans. Her eyes followed the unlit candles as Ash
placed them on the table just beneath her vulnerable armpits. Ash
smiled at her housemate and slowly and deliberately stroked Trish's
bare nipples. They hardened despite Trish's efforts to quell her
reaction. Trish caught her breath at the touch, closed her eyes and
moaned. Ash smiled in satisfaction.

Ash picked up the remote and settled back into the sofa. She sipped
again at her coffee and switched the CD to Bad English. Trish wasn't
particularly fond of the group but Ash only smiled when Trish shook
her head against the table and pulled in resignation at her ropes.
The sounds of John Waite filled the room as they waited. Ash gently
leaned forward and ran her fingers lightly up Trish's exposed side.
Trish shuddered as the butterflies again took flight in her stomach.
She was ready.

When the track ended on the stereo, Ash switched the CD again to a
more classical disk. Trish didn't recognise it. Could have been
Mozart. Trish squirmed wondering when and what was going to happen to
her. She felt entirely helpless. She had given up her body, her
trust, her control to Ash. She felt her muscles relaxing from her
toes to the top of her head. She was so aware of herself. Free.
Herself. She had lost herself completely these last few weeks. She
was finally finding herself again. It felt good.

Ash was watching her nude housemate, concentrating on her face, her
telltale body movement. She would know when to begin. She always did.
Like a seer, she could just tell. It was almost as though they were
one entity. She didn't quite understand her attraction to Trish, why
they were so close. They'd been through so much together. They were
almost sisters. She would do anything for her friend and she knew the
bound lady in front of her would do nearly anything for her. In a
sense they were one.

There. Trish was ready. She didn't know what was going to happen to
her, but she had a fairly good idea. Ash had watched the struggle on
her friends body and face, fighting the discomfort of the ropes, the
unorthodox role, yes, her humiliation. She watched the same fight
every time. She idly wondered if her friend would ever quite
understand who she was, accept herself. As it was she let it build
until she was ready to explode. But perhaps it enhanced her
satisfaction letting it build over the weeks.

Ash was familiar with the signs of acceptance. She saw her friend
finally relax, give up her control completely. Would not accept it
back until morning. Ready to move on. To free herself. Ash leaned
forward whispering to her housemate. She picked up the candle that
was lying inside Trish's right armpit and held it in front of Trish's
face. Her eyes widened, but she made no protest, not even a flinch of
her eyes, as Ash struck the match and the smell of sulphur permeated
the room. She quietly watched as Ash lit the candle and pursed her
lips, blowing out the match. Ash rose to her feet and wandered to the
fireplace, tossing the match in carelessly. Trish watched helplessly
as her housemate kicked off her moccasins and padded barefoot over to
her, kneeling on the opposite side of the table. She brushed her
fingers lightly over Trish's bare nipple and gently kissed it. Trish
felt her breasts tingle and she moaned through her ball gag. She
allowed herself to pull at her ankle restraints once and then settled
down, her eyes glued to the tiny flame wavering in Ash's left hand.

Ash's mind wandered. A witches ritual. The initiate, searching for
herself. Bound, a human sacrifice but not quite. Ash, the ritual
guide about to lead the way on a journey she had never undertaken.
Trish, waiting calmly for her guidance. A age old ritual passed down
from ancient times. Ash was aware of herself as well, her role, her
body her mind. The ambiance she had created for her friend. Of
course, she was not a witch, but upon reflection it was a type of
ritual. They were finding themselves in their own way.

Ash slowly moved the candle. Trish's eyes followed the waxen stick as
it centred over her right breast. She now knew what was to follow.
Her mind whirled as she fought for control.  The trick was to accept
it, not to fight it. Fighting herself didn't work. Never had.

In slow motion, Trish watched as the candle ever so slowly began to
dip forward. A drop of molten wax dripped from the head of the
candle. It travelled as though it was dropped through a strobe. Time
slowed. Trish watched as the drop struck her vulnerable nipple,
coated it and almost instantly solidified. It seemed like hours, but
in reality was a split second, the pain exploded in her breast. The
tender, erect nipple throbbed in the heat. Trish knew in her mind
that it would not damage her, but the instantaneous heat in such a
tender spot was enough to make her scream through her gag. She
unconsciously pulled at her ropes, trying in vain to reach her
sensitive breasts, to cover them, to cup them, to ease the torment.
But finally when the pain abated from her nipple, Trish opened her
eyes, which she couldn't remember scrunching tight, and weakly smiled
at her roommate. She could feel the hardened wax tightening on her
bare nipple. It felt odd, but not in a bad way.

Trish watched as Ash set the candle on the table and slowly pulled
off her top. Her breasts were heaving, not quite as much as her bound
housemate's, but her breath came hard and ragged. She didn't quite
know why but it was right for her. She reached forward and felt the
hardened wax on her roommates nipple. Trish gasped at the touch to
her super-sensitive flesh and Ash wondered very briefly what it felt
like to be so helpless and not be able to get away from the wax. She
raised her finger to her own tight nipples knowing that Trish was
watching, but not caring. They knew each other well enough. She
sighed as her finger brushed lightly at her erect nipples. She picked
up the candle again, smiling at Trish. Trish's eyes immediately
focused back on the flame being moved to her left breast.

Again, the slow motion of the drop of molten wax. Trish watched as
the drop unerringly dropped, coating her hardened nipple, imprisoning
it in sweet agony. She felt the table as her head arched into the
unyielding surface, the ropes as they dug cruelly into her wrists and
ankles as she tried in vain to reach her breasts. Her gasp of air
trying to fill lungs that didn't want to function. The obstruction
holding her mouth open, muffling her voice as she released herself as
her lungs caught up with her sensations. Opening her eyes in time to
see Ash stroke her own bare nipples. Stirrings. Butterflies. Her
tears trickling down her face, rivers of her release. Ash reached
forward and lightly brushed the tears from Trish's cheeks, smiling at
her kindly.

Ash whispered lightly in Trish's ear, barely loud enough to be heard
over her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "More?"

Trish felt the familiar feelings welling up in her. The knowledge of
her helplessness, her vulnerability. She fought herself and slowly
nodded. Immediately, Ash tipped another two drops onto Trish's right
breast, and a single one coated her left. Ash wondered again how it
would feel.

Trish watched the two drops cover the wax on her right nipple, felt
the searing heat. She only felt the left, as her eyes closed and her
endorphins coursed through her veins. She pain slipped into the
background of her mind, light exploded behind her closed eyes. She
could feel her breasts heaving, her body straining, but she was
curiously detached. Her face relaxed, followed by all her body
muscles. She could feel Ash continuing to drop the wax onto her body,
on the bare portions of her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. But the
sensations further buoyed her. She felt as though she was released
from her bound body, floating. She could nearly see the clouds as she
rushed along above them as if she was at the window of a jet. She
could sense the clouds opening, open water beneath rushing by. She
could see the whitecaps as the wind pressed the water onwards
forever. And then she was returning. She felt the pull of her
consciousness as her body called her back. Back to herself. The warm
room, the table, the restraints, Ash.

She opened her eyes. She slowly moved her jaw, the gag had been
removed.

Ash leaned over close, her face dancing by the firelight. "Was it
nice?" she whispered.

"Mhmmmm," Trish closed her eyes again, pulling on her wrists idly.

Ash envied her friend. She had no idea where she went during these
sessions but afterwards she was a different person. Ash could almost
see the tension flowing out of her bound friend, her muscles
unknotting, her tears, her sighs. Trish may have been bound securely
to the table, but she was the most free person in the world right
now. Ash smiled, leaned forward and lightly kissed Trish's lips. She
allowed her fingers to wander down Trish's throat, lightly brushing
her exposed breasts, circling the bare patches of skin. She felt the
hard shell coating Trish's nipples, could make out the form of the
underlying flesh. She smiled as Trish gasped at the touches.

She ran figure eights slowly down her friend's ribs and stomach,
illiciting delicious squirms and moans. She ran her fingers lightly
through the sparse pubic hair of her bound roommate, causing more
moans.

Not sure what Trish wanted, not sure what she wanted, Ash again
brought her mouth to Trish's ear. "Continue?" in a breathy voice.
Trish simply smiled in response. It wasn't as though they had never
done this before. It seemed almost a natural expression of their
friendship, a simple sharing of shared frustrations. Ash again kissed
Trish's lips, feeling a soft response and a shiver pass through her
restrained body.

She wandered her fingers through the fine hair stroking lightly along
the outside of the lips. Trish strained against the ropes holding
her, trying to get more contact, squirming. A low moan escaped her
lips. Ash teased her for a few moments before allowing her index
finger to enter between Trish's lips. The wetness there surprised
even Ash. Trish had never been this responsive to her contact before.
She was getting more used to Ash and making love to a woman. Neither
woman really thought of herself as homosexual. Nevertheless, it
seemed appropriate.

Trish felt the intimate contact of Ash's fingers from a more distant
place. She was trying to concentrate on Ash's lips as they tenderly
kissed. She tried to concentrate as Ash's finger wandered the length
of her body, caressing, feeling. She tried to feel her ropes, the
table. Each sensation pushed her further and further back towards the
clouds and the water. She could feel Ash's finger slowly enter her,
and she automatically moaned and pressed towards the violation. She
gently rocked herself to the rhythm of Ash's probing fingers. She had
never quite felt so free, so alive. So out of control. She pressed
herself as best she could to help Ash. Ash lightly kissed her coated
nipples.

Trish arched against her ropes as Ash lightly touched her clitoris
and withdrew. Trish moaned in frustration and finally opened her
eyes, her rushing clouds slowly fading. She watched as Ash slowly
licked her finger and brushed her own bare breasts, leaned forwards
and brushed her own exposed nipples against Trish's coated ones. The
breast contact was electric. Trish moaned once again straining
against her captivity.

Ash allowed her fingers to wander back to Trish's lips, gently
parting them and slowly, maddeningly slowly, began to circle her
clitoris. Trish rocked as best as she could with the motion of Ash's
finger. The clouds immediately began to rush by. The water crashing
below them. Trish began falling towards the water in her mind, faster
and faster, images of herself, bound, nude, helpless, vulnerable.
Endorphins rushed through her mind. Every muscle in her body went
rigid, pulling against her bonds, pulsing. Her mind exploded in
light, a rush of sound that she recognised as her own voice crying
out her pleasure, her pain, her climax. After an eternity, she felt
her muscles relax and she slumped back onto her imprisoning table.

Ash smiled at her friend, they both were exhausted. Ash would satisfy
herself later, in private. She padded out of the room, leaving Trish
to relax further and remember her sensations. After she returned,
drink in hand, she found Trish rhythmically breathing, her head
turned against the hard table, her hair fanned out, eyes closed. Ash
settled into the sofa and switched the CD to some soft classical that
she didn't even recognise. She watched over her housemate as she
slept. Ash leaned her head back and listened to the fire and the
swelling music, watched Trish's wax covered breasts rise and fall
with her steady breathing.

Finally, Ash rose to her feet and knelt at Trish's bound ankles. She
carefully unlashed her ankles, careful not to wake her. Her waist
ropes were removed, and then her wrists. Ash settled back into the
sofa with her schnapps and waited patiently. Soon enough, the pins
and needles awakened Trish and she opened her eyes to smile at Ash.
Ash leaned her glass to Trish's mouth, and she sipped the liqueur.
But as she moved her arms from above her head, she cried out as the
pins and needles intensified. Tears welled in her eyes and she cried
softly as Ash gathered her up, rubbing her wrists carefully until the
pain abated.

After a time, Ash leaned forward and gently pulled Trish's hands
behind her back. She attached two lined leather cuffs to her wrists.
They both knew Trish wasn't ready to gain back her control. She
simply smiled up at Ash as though to thank her for understanding. A
quick padlock through the hasps rendered Trish helpless and
vulnerable again. Ash ran her hands gently down Trish's body tickling
her ribs and lingering on her breasts. Trish gasped at the sensations
and felt the butterflies take flight again.

Ash slowly rose to her feet, motioning for Trish to rise as well. Ash
guided Trish up the stairs to her bedroom. They entered Trish's
bedroom, with her four poster bed. Ash bid Trish to wait quietly by
the foot of the bed. Trish swayed and wished for the bed, she was
exhausted from the nights events. She looked down at herself and felt
a bit of a flush. Her hands pinioned behind her. Nude. Her front
spotted with wax. Her body trembling. She felt the cold of the floor
beneath her feet as she waited for Ash to return from the adjoining
room. She knew that Ash was only placing the key to her cuffs in the
bathroom so that she could free herself in the morning. A tear again
formed in her eyes. Questions of herself, and her sexuality wandered
through her head as she stood there. She shivered as she recalled her
night in ropes, nude, with her roommate. She felt abnormal, it
suddenly felt wrong. Why did she need it? The feminine contact? The
dominance, the submission, the restraint? The trust, the friendship?
Why did she feel so good, so free? She felt the tear escape her
eyelid and trickle down her face. Would she ever accept herself? What
she liked?

She only realised that Ash had returned when she felt Ash's gentle
touch wiping away the tear. She smiled at Trish.

"It's OK. It's you. It's right for you. There is no normal."

Ash always had understood. Trish shook her head as Ash guided her
beneath the comforter. She felt the cool sheets on her bare skin, and
watched as Ash removed her jeans and panties. God, she was beautiful.

Ash slipped into the bed behind Trish, wrapping her arms around her,
holding her. Felt their bodies together, skin against skin. Trish
sighed before she slipped into a sleep filled with clouds, water, and
dimly felt heat. Her last thought was that she would never be normal.
She fell asleep smiling.

***

Trish woke from her sleep, fully refreshed. She hadn't slept this
well in months. She squirmed a bit in Ash's arms until her housemate
woke enough to allow her to work herself to the edge of the bed. Her
bare feet dangled to meet with the freezing floor. She tried to
scratch her nose and realised quickly that she had slept in the
cuffs. She smiled at the thought and rose to pad into the bathroom.
Her hair was a mess, and she had blue wax all over her breasts. She
reached down and struggled with the key off the top of the toilet.
Finally the padlock sprang free and she could scratch her nose. It
felt wonderful to be free again.

She showered slowly and long. Feeling the caress of the warm water
flowing over her body. She idly hoped that Ash was all right. From
what she remembered it had been a long session and she still wasn't
sure what Ash thought about it all. As she quietly slipped into her
room to dress, she found Ash sprawled out on her bed one bare breast
partially exposed by the sheets. She smiled and dressed as quietly as
she could. Ash mumbled something incoherent just as she left the
room, closing the door on the light. As the door closed, and with no
one to hear, Ash repeated her mumbling a little clearer, "I think I'm
falling in love again ..."

Trish padded down the stairs, smiling at the pile of her clothing
from the night before at the front door. Ash hadn't moved them. She
leaned down and carefully folded them, leaving them on the stairs to
put away at night when she returned home.

As she stepped out into the crystal clear day, she watched her breath
plume away from her as she took the crisp air into her lungs. She
felt invigorated, free, released, stress free. She hadn't felt like
this in so long. She fairly danced to the car, rubbing her hands
together as she let it warm up. She turned on the stereo and was
singing to Aerosmith when she realised that it had been months since
she had sung. Her voice echoed in the car as she pulled out of her
driveway and down her street. She was even in tune. She could feel
it, even traffic would be light today.

She slammed on her brakes as old Mr. Johnson slid down his driveway
like a maniac, not watching as usual. He finally turned to look, as
she smiled, shook her head, and waved at him. She would be all right.
Crazy, but all right.






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