125  Bondage Party

 

I’d always vaguely assumed that by the time we were forty, we would have outgrown our interest in mackintoshes and bondage, in fact I probably had believed people of such age had outgrown sexual activity altogether, but here we are, probably thirty-five years after the earliest adventures that I have described and still occasionally buying new things for our mutual satisfaction. Although, as I said, we bought our SBRs from the place in Bournemouth, there was still that shop in Northampton, not too far away from where we live (but far enough for our peace of mind!), which specialises in rubber rainwear. It was through this place that we did venture just a little contact with other enthusiasts. Northampton is far enough away to not run the risk of coming across people we knew and it was there that we did meet the nice couple that persuaded me to expand on this series of reminiscences.

 

And, we actually went to a bondage party! 

  - Probably the first time I had heard that word applied to what Chris and I always referred to as 'raspberry picking games'.

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      ( Nowadays, many years later, Jos tells me such things happen and if you hunt on the internet, they are easy to find. But none that he could find take place in rainwear assemblies and any others are far from the 'civilised' and friendly manner that I'm going to recount here. Remember - everything I describe in these recollections are totally truthful !) 

 

We went the first time to an evening ‘presentation’ of rainwear at the shop in Northampton, a sort of fashion parade, and got the general idea of what might go on after we left.

So, at a second visit, a month later, I wore my blue Austrian mackintosh which attracted a certain interest as it is unusual in this country, rubber surfaced inside and out. (see Episode 106) and I even took part in the fashion parade with hood raised and zipped right up to cover my chin and mouth.

 

As a result, we were obviously judged to be suitable to be invited on to another place, where it was made clear what was going to happen and we were asked if we really wanted to join in. No way were they going to dissuade Jos from taking part and, as there were not only about a dozen men but, as I remember, also five women, I agreed to join in.

When we reached the venue, a large house, apparently the home of a well-off regular customer of the rainwear shop, everyone was now wearing a mackintosh, so I again donned my Austrian one. A record player was started up and the five, six with me, women were much in demand as dancing partners. The last time I had danced in a mackintosh was the Fancy Dress Ball at Gorleston. Meanwhile, photos taken on earlier occasion were passed round, not that I was allowed by Jos to see much of them. They gave the flavour of what might happen here, although Jos filled me in on some of the detail. So, I wasn’t surprised when, after further preliminaries, a volunteer was called for and again, as Jos had only just in time managed to get me to agree, I was volunteered!

 

I went and sat on a stool out in the front of the room and, following a lucky dip, Jos was then allowed to supervise the lucky winners who, in turn, were allowed each to apply one item of bondage to me as I sat there compliantly, still, of course, in my blue Austrian mackintosh, hood now raised and zipped up. I didn't want any too revealing photos taken of myself, needless to say.

 

Each person had drawn a piece of paper from a hat, some of which read ‘no luck!’ but the remaining lucky ones had instructions and which Jos told me later, appeared to have been fiddled to include all the other women,. These were such as ‘tie left ankle to chair leg’, ‘tie hands behind back of chair’, ‘blindfold’, and so on. Scarves were used, I was relieved to find out, 'this first time' as the person in charge said! What he was implying was obvious but there wasn't going to be a second time as far as I was concerned.

So first of all, I was blindfolded by the first lucky winner, so that I wouldn't know who was doing what. As at home with Jos, I had here also made it clear that I wasn't to be gagged, saying I had adenoids and couldn’t breathe through my nose! I was pleased too that he made no mention of our 'raspberry-picking' techniques!

But, as a recompense to the no-gagging request, I did urge each participant on with comments like ‘tighter, oh, oh - tighter, ouch! Not that tight!’.... and so on. 

So, my legs were tied together, just above my knees, (to retain my modesty?) and my ankles to each of the stool's legs. Wrists were tied together behind me.

One girl, I assumed by her scent and demeanor, not to  be male, having first tied my hands as she was instructed by her drawn piece of paper, unzipped my hood just enough to be able to give me a long lingering full kiss, mouth to mouth, tongue right back in my throat. She then announced aloud to the room that there was nothing wrong with my breathing and that the next person should be able to gag me. Thankfully she was ignored by the others. It then o occurred to me that such as she who asked for gags might appreciate that it's more fun to hear a sort of running commentary from the victim! So I kept it up as best I could

 

However it all surprisingly turned out to be quite good humoured and I finished securely tied up, perhaps for as long as half an hour, before being quietly released. During that time whilst blindfolded, unable to see what was then taking place, I could hear of course, and I suspect some photos were taken which since, following one of the allocated instructions I was now wearing the hood tightly zipped back up, didn’t worry me as I would be unrecognisable to any of my acquaintances from elsewhere, in the most unlikely event of them seeing the photos.

Also during that time, I was fondled from time to time by unknown persons – not by Jos, I have to add – I had got to know his fondling technique, but all in a fairly harmless sort of way, shoulders stroked, breasts squeezed briefly, the hood smoothed over my head.

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I had another visit from the kissing lady whilst tied, who stood behind me, pulled my hooded head right back, again unzipped my hood and leant over and kissed me again – upside down – and in the same manner as before, before then putting her hands right over my nose and mouth so that I couldn't breathe at all. I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of protesting or even struggling so I just sat it out which was a bit of a mistake as she re-zipped my hood up and whispered,  

   'So you are enjoying this then.  Get rid of your husband afterwards and we can go somewhere and really enjoy ourselves'.

No way! What would Lucy think of me?

After my release then, everyone seemed to be in a certain sort of expectant mood, although I noticed that some in the meantime had left the party, and I knew it was time for Jos and I to slip off ourselves – we had a long way to drive home.