The Art of Touch

I don’t know why, but I’m slightly nervous this time as I ring the familiar doorbell of Miss Campbell’s practice. Funny really, as I’ve been here so often it feels like a second home. It’s Miss Campbell of course. Her inviting eyes and gently prodding questions always make you tell everything that’s bothering you, making her a confidante, a pal. And what her casual talk doesn’t release, her hands do, either with a full massage or just a foot-reflexology. That has never failed to calm me down, soothing my swirling brain from whatever is haunting me at the time, stopping it tensioning my body. ...

SBS - Surprise Bondage Service

Prologue: a customer calls. I dialled the number she had left, a mobile one of course. The first call is never from the home phone. A friendly voice answered, which got a bit nervous once I had said who I was calling for. This was always the case: it takes a bit of courage to call upon our services the first time, and when we call to make an actual appointment, one is suddenly confronted with the consequences of a choice. This lady had more of an excited nervousness though, she was looking forward to the adventure of discovering what we could do. She’d studied the website a bit and could not decide what she wanted (“ah, the agony of choice”). ...

A Fetish Marriage

[Authors‘ note: after the initial story of A Fetish Honeymoon (originated after a story contest in 2005), I felt I had to revisit Citore Lauxes lady Ynroh-N-Toh & her Llud husband Rewollof again, to see how they were doing after some years of marriage. After all, married life is quite different then a honeymoon, even if it is on the planet Yoj-Xes! For the new readers: if the names seem confusing, simply read them backwards and it’ll tell you more about the characters. ...

A Fetish Honeymoon

A small reading hint: the names may appear fantasy names, until you read them backwards. Except of the city where it all takes place…..Just pronounce it; This story is a saucier and more story-like rewrite of the original “Fetish and the Feast” of 2005 1: Landing and arrival. As the hover-cruiser circled over the city, Ynroh-N-Toh looked out of the window. The cabin crew had just given her a drink through the small ring-gag trainer which was strapped to her head. She had seen it in the mirror briefly, and she thought the purple colour of the straps looked good with the rest of her wedding outfit. She was glad the ring was small, about 1”, for she had worn it quite some time. She could wriggle her lips a little bit around them to keep them from falling asleep, and to sort of smile at her wedding reception. Unfortunately, wriggling her lips increased the drooling, and the cabin crew was polite enough to wipe the worst away. ...

It's a kind of Magic

The Letter I was a bit nervous as I climbed the stairs to the apartment. Sure, I had taken interviews before without really knowing what to expect. Sure, I had taken interviews which had promised a lot but were lemons in the end. But somehow, this one was going to be different. For one thing, the invite appeared out of nowhere the day after I had written the article on this Harry Potter hype. I had given my view on how we were brought back to our childhood fantasies and dreams about magic. It triggered quite a few reactions and my office e-mail was abuzz with both approvals and disapprovals from various groups. ...

Bound by the Storm

I turned the car into the already rickety garage. The storm was clearly brewing. I had seen Didi in front of the bedroom window as I drove across the front of our house. Great, all set, all ready, everyone and everything in pace… let the storm strike! I thought. We had this nice little cottage in the hills, with a lovely view on Mother Nature, but also fully exposed to Mother Nature when she had her temper. We loved such moments. We loved being “trapped” in our love nest, with no chance of going anywhere, but with each other. The house was fully prepared for a few days on its own, whether it was heating, food, water supply, etc. ...

That's a Wrap

The next day, Richard was hardly present at work. Fortunately, there were no important meetings or report deadlines, or he would have been in trouble. Instead, he just sat in his office, re-starting to read memo’s multiple times, and the only thing his eyes would see were scenes from the night before. The sight of Marjorie when he was done, it already was a classic painting to him, and for Richard the picture would be in his mental museum forever. Inspite of his best efforts, his mind kept returning to what had happened and how he could repeat it. His body still ached from the exhaustion, yet it yearned for a rerun of the memories. His fantasy worked all day how he could repeat the experience, what he should change, what he should do again, imagining vividly how she would react. But then again, yesterday she had surprised him too in his surprise for her, the way she had taken to it, how she had looked. She had baffled him at first, had almost taken the joy away, until he had realised she was delighted and excited and turned on by what he was doing to her and with her, so he had played & toyed with renewed zest for two. He left punctually at six to be home with her again. His legs felt light, as did his head. He caught himself making small dance steps and humming on his way to the car. When Marjorie heard him coming home, she looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes, and saw the same thing in return. Obviously, he had had good memories all day too, just like she had been glowing inside and outside. After he had left for work, she had replayed the scenes and images time & time again in her mind, cherishing the memories of the warm and cosy feeling of the plastic, enjoying over and over again the feeling of being at his hands as he played out his surprise for her. At the same time, her fantasy had become active in competition with her memory and had put her into action. She knew what would be next. They kissed and held each other in the open doorway, scanned the pools of each others’ eyes. “Were you as paralysed today as I was?” Richard said. “My mind was just stuffed with images of you and me last night” “Hmmm, yes, it was wonderful. Thank you again, darling, for doing what you did.” She kissed him on his chin, one of her favourite teases as he always touted his lips in anticipation. “You understand, of course, that justice will have its course sometime?!” she replied, with a smile in her eyes. He cast her a questioning look, but she said no more, just hummed lightly as she turned for the kitchen. Throughout dinner she looked at her husband with a mischievous look in her eyes, not offering any clue of what was in her mind. Dessert came and went without any announcement of what was up ahead, she just hummed in between sparks of conversation, looking at her husband with a ‘I know something you don’t know’-look. When they were sipping a glass of wine together, Richard asked: “Marjorie, I can’t wait any longer. Just what is on your mind, break the spell or I’ll go mad!” “Would you really? And just what would you do when you’d go mad?” A short hesitation, his eyes looking for clues. “Well, perhaps a bit more of last night…?” he said, not quite sure where he was with her. “Hm, I guess that might be one of the possibilities, yes. Any other one in your mind?” she replied dryly. He thought for a second, then looked at her. “Perhaps I do, but I’m not sure I’d tell you. If you didn’t like it, it would spoil the surprise. If you did like it, you might just drive me mad just to get me to do what I said!…” She waited a few seconds before replying, enjoying having him dangling on the hook of his curiosity. “Richard, Richard, Richard, so much talk, so much hot air. You know what, you have finished the meal, why don’t you go upstairs and shower off all the other hot air of today. I’ll meet you in the bedroom”. When he did not move at first, she added sternly with a frown: “Shoo shoo, off you go now!” He moved, though clearly in doubt what his wife had in store for him, looking at her puzzled, yet anxious and excited at the same time. She quickly turned her back to him, to hide the upcoming smile on her face, and started cleaning up. When he had gone, she quickly threw everything into the dishwasher and went upstairs, to be ready before Richard finished showering. She had put everything in place during the afternoon, after her return from the long shopping trip. She had been amazed how difficult some things can be found. She tiptoed into the bathroom as she heard his shower come to an end. She took his towel away from the hook and held the newly bought roll there instead. His hand appeared from behind the screen, looking for the familiar towel. She let him search a bit, then put the roll in his hand. His body language was great: she could see the “What the h…?” on his face in the way his hand checked out this new thing. His face appeared, dripping, wet hair over his face. “Marjorie, what is this, some kind of joke?” “No joke, my dear, I am very serious” she said with a smile. “The time has come to return the favour. Step out of the shower, please.” She saw him think for a second, his eyes once again looking for clues, his anxiety fighting his curiosity. The latter won and he stepped out of the shower booth, dripping, looking at her. “Well?” he said, “what’s up?” “This is” she said, holding up the roll of red-coloured foil. “This is much better then the clumsy stuff you used last night. The colour will look much better then that bland household wrap, and the other great advantage, well, I will tell you later. Now place your arms like you know how!” “Wow, Marjorie, this is a surprise!”, he grinned, as he began to cross his arms before his chest. “But…” he stopped in mid-air, “I’m all wet. Can’t I towel off first?” “Don’t you think I would have let you if you could? No, you’ll be packed just as you are, fresh from the shower. Now fold those arms, Dicky-Boy!” she said firmly as she unrolled the roll. This time he obliged, the curiosity clear in his eyes, the excitement starting to show lower down. Slowly and carefully, she wrapped his upper torso many times in the red foil, his hands across his chest flat on the opposing shoulder, the elbows tightly to his thighs. His eyes followed her every movement as she walked around him. He said nothing, just looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes. When she was done, she was sure he could not move much. She looked at him with delight: he looked great, just like a candy waiting to be licked, all wrapped in shiny plastic. Still, she was not ready… yet. “Now then, my dear Wrapper of Last Night, enjoy the experience you gave me. Feel the warmth building up, as your shower wetness is replaced by your sweat. And… prepare for step two.” As she spoke, she had taken her hair dryer from her closet and plugged it in. Now his eyes changed, excitement got mixed with uncertainty, she tought she saw a brief trace of fear. Still, he said nothing, though his eyes were firmly fixed on the hairdryer. Marjorie was enjoying her role. They should have done this long time ago! “This, my dear” she said, waving the tool as a pistol, “will bring out the second advantage of this foil over what you used. You see, this is no ordinary foil, it is shrink-wrap, used for packing stuff for transport. Just have a look, or no, have a feel what a touch of warm air will do to your escape-proof suit. It will improve your Mummy-Special of last night to a ‘Mummy-de-Luxe’!” With that, she switched on the hair-dryer to ‘high’ and waved the hot air over the foil that surrounded him. He was too surprised or transfixed to move or protest. Quickly though, he could not have moved even if he had wanted to. The foil shrunk, becoming tighter then she could have ever wrapped it. Gently Marjorie waved the flow of air all over him, an occasional blow over his head or lower over his loins, but mostly over the foil which held him. It only took a minute or so until upper-Richard was firmly immobilised, looking like an industrial packed mummy, if it wasn’t for his free legs, his excitedly standing manhood and his face moving about. Richard tried to see what movement he had left, but it was very little. He could breath, and that was about it. At first he had found it a bit scary when she came about with the hair dryer, even though deep down he knew he could trust Marjorie. Thus far the wrapping had been OK, exciting, but sort of what he had imagined it would be. It was warm, though, and soon he could feel the sweat starting… and then she came with hot air on top of it! Now he knew there was definitely no way he could get out of this until she let him, and wondered what else she had in store for him. “Marjorie, wow, I don’t know what to say, you sure got me tied down. This is like a iron corset, I can’t move anything between my neck and my hips!”. She looked at him triumphantly, looking big with a self confidence he had not seen before. “Precisely, my dear, that way I know you won’t do anything foolish. Remember what you said last night? Consider it more like a friendly surrender, no black leather, chains or your typical domination stuff. Well, to my very own surprise, I enjoyed being on the receiving end (as you clearly noticed), but now to your very surprise, I intend to enjoy being on the giving end this time.” She slapped him joyfully on his buttocks, picked up the foil and the hairdryer with one hand, took his manhood gently by the nails of her other and with a “Follow me, please!” she walked out the bathroom Richard had to walk quickly to follow her, her nails were clearly present….. He realised how much you use your arms to stable yourself now that he had to walk without them. Next to the big bed, she turned him around and positioned herself in front of him. She had a look in her face he had never seen before, one of lust and of control, one of joy and of child-like ‘I have a secret for you…’, all in one. “Now then, my Big Sausage, your big little popsicle down here is eagerly staring at me, I’m not sure I like that. You think we can do something about it?” Richard was getting into the game, although he still was not sure quite what Marjorie’s game was. “I’m sorry, you know how He has a mind of his own. Could you ‘handle’ the situation perhaps? I seem to be a bit tied up at the moment”. He heard the dry echo of his voice, not as casual as he’d liked it to be. “Hmmm, nice idea, perhaps I might just do that” she smiled. Her eyes looked straight into his as she took the matter firmly in hand. Firmly yet shaky, in fact, and though he tried to hold out as long as he could, it did not take long before Richard had to let out a deep groan and something else too. He struggled to stay upright, she had to balance him with her other hand. The excitement had been wonderful: here he was, captured right out of the shower, standing naked in his bedroom, with his wife casually yet lovingly taking care of him. “There, now I have some peace of mind, not everyone looking at me, just you and me.” Richard watched, as his lovely wife switched on some slow love music, walked slowly to her clothing stand and started to undress herself, teasingly, slowly. She took her time, enjoying playing with him, slowly showing what she had put on underneath to surprise him. Richard’s amazement took yet another jump, she must have been planning this all day! His eyes were feasting on his lovely wife, who by now was standing in the lacy underwear he had bought for her on their last holiday. She paraded slowly on the spot, obviously enjoying herself by performing for him. Richard felt excitement from his little toes all the way up to his boiling brains, his eyes felt like bursting out of their sockets. His arms wiggled a bit inside the plastic, though they seemed to have accepted the futility of it. He started to understand what Marjorie had said last night before they had fallen asleep. “After the initial scary feeling of being restricted and helpless, your mind starts to feel more open, free even, as all the energy for the arms and movement can now be spent on enjoying yourself. The harness actually becomes a close friend, holding you nice and cosy, protective.” Richard could not agree more, as he felt his manhood slowly recovering, watching the slow dance in front of him. Marjorie saw Richards’ eyes glaze over occasionally, as she undressed. She felt the music taking over her movements, she was almost in a trance as she tossed the last piece of clothing in some corner. She paraded across his view, watched his eyes light up as he spotted the shortly trimmed hair below (something that always turned him on), motioning slowly he was not to move, as she picked up a chair and sat it in front of him. ...