Gretchen in Suspension

She couldn't help squealing this time, a kind of strangled complaint that she managed to choke into a sob that probably sounded just as pathetic. "Oh Stan, no, please don't." Both of Stan's hands moved in smoothly, sliding over the ropes and her soft skin, and his fingers found their targets quickly. With another chuckle he gently pulled her lips apart and exposed all of her hot, pink secrets to the camera.

Gretchen squeezed her eyes closed, and gasped as he held her tantalizingly open for what seemed like an unbearably long time. This was a betrayal of trust, what the hell was he doing? It was one thing to tease her, but to keep going when she had seriously asked him to stop? Gretchen's face flushed with frustration as she realised her pussy was just a toy for him and the camera. What she wanted didn't matter anymore.

But she couldn't deny the way her body was responding. Stan seemed to be systematically exploring all of the folds and regions of her hot, wet cleft for the benefit of the camera and his slow, methodical fingers were driving her insane. There was pressure and it was exquisite, so much so that she forgot to be angry for a split second, but then the pressure would move on and it would be a teasing, pulling sensation that made her growl in frustration. Stan's fingers moved and she knew he was closing in on her clit. He stepped away and she heard him lift the camera, tripod and all. Oh god, he was going to get a close up wasn't he?

"Stan, no don't. Stop filming and this'll be... it'll be so hot."

"It's already hot babe. Oh... what have we here? Something's hiding."

"Noooo..." She half gasped, half groaned as he roughly fingered her clit, forgetting his subtlety and just rubbing it to fully expose and arouse it. "Ah... fuck. Fuck you Stan." Gretchen's eyes were squeezed closed, her brow furrowed as she instinctively tried to suppress her response to his clumsy finger.

"Oh, wait till you see this babe. You can see everything. It's so, so hot."

"Are you listening to me? I don't..." it was getting harder for her to concentrate, her breath was getting ragged, "...want to be filmed like some porn whore. I want to have fun with you. You and me right?"

"Oh babe, you'll see how hot this is." As Stan moved away again Gretchen moaned in frustration, both at her predicament, and at the fact that he had stopped rubbing her burning clit. He looped another rope around her, but this one was cutting diagonally across her wet, open pussy, over her left hip. What was he doing? "So, anyway I've gotta go out for a while."

"You've what?" Like a cartoon character, Gretchen's eyes almost popped out of her skull. "What did you say?"

"I promised I'd give Dan a hand moving some stuff to his new apartment Gretch, I can't let him down."

"You fucker," at this Gretchen almost laughed. This was the kind of excruciating tease she could enjoy, although the presence of the camera was still fucking everything up for her.

"So I'll be back as soon as I can babe, in the meantime," with a shiver Gretchen felt him squeeze that evil looking red tube between the rope and her moist opening, positioning it so that it lay diagonally across her lips, held firmly in place by his simple rope harness, "I can't just leave you with nothing to do."

"Oh you fucker, you'd better not." Gretchen's voice was a combination of amused disbelief and genuine threat.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Stan repeated and with a click, started the vibe. Immediately Gretchen wanted to arch her back and move, to manipulate the buzzing shaft into a more pleasurable position, or even better to get rid of it. But she could do little more than twitch, and the device was laying agonizingly across her pussy, stimulating her but not hitting any of the good spots.

Stan gave her a solid push and started her spinning again. "Feel free to come," he remarked, "it'll all be on the camera so I can watch it back later." And with that he left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

A few minutes later she heard the front door slam.

Gretchen span; bound, restrained and tormented by vibrations that relentlessly attacked her helpless pussy. What the hell could she do? She screamed and shouted for Stan a couple of times, in case he was hiding outside the front door waiting to come back in, but then she remembered the camera - oh god the camera! - and realised that maybe that was exactly the sort of begging and pleading that he wanted to see.

She could move her weight a little she found, and she rocked herself into a gentle swing, but that was getting her nowhere and she felt much safer if she was just turning in a flat spin.

The camera! Taking all this in: her pathetic struggling and the gasps and whimpers that she couldn't stifle. And all the time that fucking vibe! It wasn't even set very high! It was maddening, buzzing away turning her on more and more, but she knew that if she did climax, it would be a dull, agonizing sensation, not the satisfaction that she was craving.

She was torn - on one hand this was an incredible, torturously wonderful experience, but on the other she couldn't totally lose herself in it because Stan... she didn't love Stan anymore. No, she didn't even like Stan anymore, no matter how titanic the orgasm he brought her to.

Though her wrists were just as secure as the rest of her tightly bound body, her fingers were free and Gretchen started reaching and stretching them. Maybe... if she really stretched...

Gretchen, panting and her desperation increasing with every agonising moment she spent as some human sex-swing, couldn't shake the feeling that no matter what she did she was performing for the camera. Her face blushing scarlet again as she swung to face the lens, she tried to ignore it and concentrate on her hands.

She could turn her wrists a tiny bit she found, and she could force her hands even closer to her back by pushing her shoulders back uncomfortably. With a little stretching she could touch her own ass and then she could trace down its curve, cringing at the perspiration that slicked her fingers and that she felt must be covering her entire body

She could feel the soft flesh trembling, shaken by the noisy vibe that sat just out of reach. With her left hand she couldn't reach it - she felt like it would take just one nudge to free it and drop it onto the bed but she couldn't make it.

She sobbed in frustration, and tried her right hand. This one sat closer to the centre of her pert backside, and she found the easiest way was to let her fingers trail down the hot, sweat-slick valley between her cheeks, and see how far she could get.

She tried to arch her back, edging her fingers closer and closer (she hoped) to her goal. Through her fingertips, through her ass, the vibrations were very strong now, and suddenly she felt it. The vibe was held by the simple rope harness, but it was sticking quite far up, so the "base" end was also resting a little between the very bottom of her ass cheeks and sticking up in the air. Her fingers brushed it, the hard plastic shifting a millimetre at most.

Opening her eyes and taking deep breaths to prepare herself for another attempt she realised that she had spun to face away from the camera. That meant that her groping, struggling hand; fumbling pathetically around her ass as she grunted with exertion, was being captured for posterity on that goddamn memory card. Fuck it! She bit her lip again, to keep from crying out in rage, and used that anger to stretch back and try and knock the vibe out of its little loop of rope.

Her fingers connected firmly and the vibe shifted, slipping down. She almost whooped with joy as she felt it go, slipping quickly between her skin and the rope and then...

It didn't drop.

Oh god, not only did it not drop, but it had shifted from an obtuse diagonal angle to being in a straight vertical line, directly on top of her wet, hungry lips. Now she could feel it properly. Oh God! Feel it and how! She didn't know, couldn't tell, if it was partly inside of her, or how it had stopped falling and come to rest but now it was having its full intended effect on her.

She could feel the buzzing all the way through her, and now she couldn't help it as little yelps and moans came bursting, fast and sexy, from her mouth. Whether she wanted to or not she couldn't avoid giving the camera exactly what it wanted, her trembling hips, her wet, pouting mouth, her brow furrowed in ecstasy. The red vibrator wasn't exactly on her clit, otherwise she would have been a thrashing, screaming mess, but it was close enough that her orgasm was inevitable and only moments away.

Gretchen span in suspension, she couldn't move her arms, her legs, her head, anything; but she could feel everything. Her body was tingling and her skin felt like it was twitching and jumping everywhere there wasn't rope to hold it down. She felt the lips of her pussy being stimulated unbearably, and behind them the actual opening to her warm body was shaking, begging for penetration that wouldn't come for... what, maybe hours?

This thought caught Gretchen by surprise, and so did her first orgasm. A kind of sobbing noise transformed into a long, low moan of denial as it swept up on her.

"Ohhhh, no, no, noooooo..." Then she wasn't using words, just bestial grunts and groans as her immobile body was wracked by a blast of pleasure. She couldn't even buck her hips, and she wanted to writhe and twist so much. Christ, she wasn't even able to shake her head and flick her hair like she knew Stan liked... Wait fuck Stan, she didn't have to please him anymore, he was gonna get his kicks right enough when he watched all this on the...

Her eyes shot open, she had forgotten the camera again, and she found herself staring into its lens as it coldly captured her wide eyed face, tortured by pleasure and tormented by restraint.

She came again, or her climax continued, she couldn't tell, but she felt the muscles inside her tensing and pressing now beyond her control. And this time she really screamed, hoarse and wet and completely unrestrained.

At that point of course, she heard the doorbell ring.

Her eyes open again in surprise she bit her lip, hard this time, trying to cut the sound off. But it kept on against her will, a low guttural moan deep in her throat. The doorbell kept ringing. She wasn't climaxing any more, the feeling of her whole body trying to escape from inside itself was dying away now thank god, but the teasing, evil tube was still there and she knew it would get much more out of her.

Dimly, she became aware of a voice shouting something from outside, but she didn't pay it much attention, concentrating on breathing exercises to stay in control as much as she could. It wasn't like she could answer the door anyway, she almost laughed at that thought.

Then she heard the front door open.

"Stanton? Gretchen?"

What the fuck? Who the hell was that? Gretchen span into a full-blown panic now, someone was in the house, and she was trussed and wet and ready for fucking. It didn't bear thinking about, what could happen, and blind terror threatened to engulf her.

"I heard some weird noises, and no one was answering so I got the spare key from round the side of the apartment."

Oh god! It was Raf, Stan's friend Raf! Saint Raf, one of the nicest, gentlest guys she knew, if there was anyone she was happy to be in the apartment with in this condition... no wait that was a stupid thought. Anyway, she couldn't imagine a world in which Raf would take advantage of anyone, even when they were tied up with their pussy offered on a plate, like she was right now. But still, she didn't want him to see the need to investigate the apartment for burglars, she had to get rid of him somehow.

"Raf?" she shouted.

"Gretch?" His footsteps started crossing the living room to the bedroom door. Damn it!

"Ah... don't come in, it's a fucking mess in here Raf!"

"Ok," he hesitated, "I've got those DVDs Stan wanted. The sci-fi stuff."

"Um, oh, great," that fucking vibe, now that her heart had stopped pounding like a jack hammer, was making its presence felt again, "just put the...ah...them on the table."

"Sure. Sorry to bust in here, I thought, like, you might be in some trouble or... something. Like a burglar." Raf was so cute, a little spacey at times, but he was pretty sexy along with it. Gretchen, her mind a little fuzzy from the orgasm and the restraint and everything found herself wandering off into dream land...

"It's cool Raf, nice to know you'd come in and check on the... mmmm... the place."

"Are you... ok? Gretch?"

"What? No... no... uhmmffuck... I'm fine." What was she doing? She had to get control of herself or he'd come and check on her.

"You sound a little... odd." Raf's voice was laden with suspicion.

Gretchen focused all her will power and concentrated on sounded as bored and busy as possible. "Just sorting all the summer clothes and the winter clothes and it's such a tip, that's why I can't get to the do-ohmyfuckingchrist! Oh no!"

She had been so close, giving such a good performance! But the spark of pleasure, shooting up from her clit as the vibe finally slipped to a position right over it, had given her away. She heard two big striding steps and Raf pulled the door open.

"Gretch! Are you..." he froze; his eyes wide; his jaw hanging slackly, stupidly open. "What. The. Fuck?"

Gretchen closed her eyes and screamed, still spinning, the vibrator still buzzing: "Raf! Get out! Close the fucking door!" Raf just stood there mutely, hypnotized by the wet dream he'd somehow wandered into.

"I thought you'd been like... tied up by burglar or... there was... or..." he mumbled in a kind of trance as his eyes ate up the naked, heavily bound girl before him. "This wasn't a burglar right?"

"The fuck do you think Raf? This is private! Get the fuck out of here!"

"Woah, is that a... vibrator?"

"Yes it's a..." Gretchen caught herself midway through the answer, "It doesn't matter! Raf! Get out and close the door!" Oh god, and now here it came again...

"Stan is like, the luckiest man alive I swear," Raf's voice almost broke into a kind of sob as he continued to watch Gretchen spiralling slowly one way, then the other. "He's the luckiest asshole alive."

"Raf. Please. Go. This is humiliating enou-oh, oh! Oh my..." Gretchen bit down hard on her lip this time, trying to fight away the feeling that was beginning to bloom. It was filling her though, it couldn't be quelled, the vibrator had positioned itself in the worst possible position and suddenly the back of her eyelids were lighting up with primary colours and she couldn't remember what year it was. She lost the English language too of course, just exhaling savagely through her nose while dragging in gulps of air around the teeth she had sunk into her lower lip. She came, hard. When she opened her eyes, unsurprisingly, Raf was still there.

"Oh man. Did you just come?"

"Yes Raf. I came." Gretchen gasped dryly. What next? Bound, filmed, forced to climax, humiliated in front of a perfectly nice, cute boy who she'd always liked and who probably now thought that she was a slut... She wasn't coming right then, but she would again soon.

"That was," Raf put his hand on his heart, "the hottest thing I've ever seen Gretch."

Gretchen, her naked breasts moving with each heaved breath she took, her face red and dripping with perspiration looked up at Raf. He was apologising now and turning to go, he wasn't going to take advantage, she realised with relief. With his olive-brown skin, short messy afro and stylish clothes he looked like something straight out of a fashion magazine. She looked like something straight out of a fetish porn magazine.

"I'm sorry Gretch, I'm going, I won't tell..."

"Raf wait. There's a camera over there."

"Shit, you're filming this?" Raf bit his lip in frustration. "That lucky goddamn..."

"No wait. Stan wanted to film this and I... hah, I couldn't really stop him. Can you..." she fought for breath, "turn off the camera and smash the memory card? Please?"

Raf frowned a little seriously now. "Are you ok like this Gretch? Did Stan make you do this?" He crossed quickly to the camera, turned off that little red light and quickly worked out how to pop out the memory card.

"No, I agreed to it. Me and Stan are..."

"Going to break up, he says." Gretchen was a little surprised that Stan had talked about this, but she was having difficulty holding the conversation now.

"Raf, I..." she swallowed, "Can you get rid of this vibrator too? I don't, I can't..."

"Hey, don't worry." Raf came close to her and stopped her spin with his hand on one of the rope supports. Gretchen blushed all over again to think that Raf was inspecting her, probably red, swollen pussy so closely. But for some reason it didn't feel creepy, he was dealing with this in the least lecherous way possible. "It's kinda, right on you - if you see what I mean," he said, "I think I'll have to touch... y'know."

"Fuck it Raf, I'm gonna come again in a minute and I don't want to come again like this so please just go ahead and touch whatever you need to." Her voice sounded hoarse and strained now, she didn't care.

His fingers were steady as they brushed gently over her pussy and with a long sigh of relief she felt the vibe pulled away at last. He turned it off with a click.

"Oh God, thank you."

"Hey, and check this out." He saw that she couldn't move her head and held the memory card up in front of her. Then he used both hands to bend and snap the hard plastic token in half. "Man, these things are tougher than they look." He tossed it on the floor.

"Fuck, Raf. Thanks." Gretchen slowed her breathing, centring again, and regained control of her scattered mind. She felt more rational, but in the middle of that grew an irrational irritation with her boyfriend. "What the fuck was he thinking, with that video, leaving me here."

"Where did he go?" Raf moved round in front of her, but didn't think to bend down so Gretchen could only see his waist. God, Raf had seen everything there was to see of her, she realised. Her breasts, her most intimate places, the crumpled face she made when she was forced to orgasm... everything except the places that were covered with rope.

"He said he was helping Dan move."

"Dan moved last weekend," Raf responded coolly. Still holding the rope to stop her from spinning.

"He what?"

"Me and Travis helped him. Stan wasn't there, lazy asshole."

"Then where the fuck...?"

"There's a big game this afternoon. I think I heard Stan was meeting Dan at a bar or something..."

Gretchen closed her eyes. Why lie about something like that, she couldn't even... She took a deep breath and counted to ten, and thought "I'm going to break up with Stan today." When she opened her eyes for some reason she noticed the outline of Raf's cock, hard and pressing against the dark denim of his jeans. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it before.

"Uh, Raf. Are you... hard?"

"Gretch, I mean, no offense, I've tried to be as much of a gentleman as I can about this. But that was, and this right now is, straight up, the hottest, sexiest thing I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm surprised I haven't just shot in my pants already."

Gretchen couldn't help giggling, and couldn't help pushing it. "Show me."

"What? Listen, I couldn't live with myself if I thought I was taking advantage girl."

"Raf, you're looking at me stark naked, splayed open and humiliated by my soon to be ex-boyfriend. I think you owe me a little peek of my own."

She couldn't see his smile, but she could hear it, "Soon to be ex?"

Even in her bound and shaken state Gretchen could still manage that slow, dirty smile that all of Stan's friends secretly coveted. "Gonna show me that cock?" She felt confidence flowing back into her as Raf fumbled with his fly, filling her like that unstoppable orgasm had filled her moments ago. He popped the buttons of his jeans quickly, then slowly pushed the front of his blue name-brand boxers down until his long, almost rigid prick slipped out and jutted up towards her.