Turnabout Is Excellent Play

Sara was irritated at being taken from Hermann's arms, not to mention being awakened in the middle of the night, but there was nothing for it. Jen untied her, musing "Hmm, nice rope," and they went quietly downstairs to Jen's room. Once inside, Jen sat her on the bed and lay down beside her. "Sara," Jen continued, "you've been talking quite a bit about Herr Strauss lately, so I decided to do some research. Think about what happened up there. Did he ask you if he could tie you up?"

"No," Sara admitted.

"Did he ask you for a safe word?" Once again, no.

"Did he ask if he could take pictures?" Sara had to admit the negative yet again.

"Did he ask you if you wanted him to fuck you?"

Sara was irritated at the tone of the question, and replied "I think it was pretty clear what my answer would have been."

"OK, granted. I expect your cute hairless pussy was just dripping for him." Sara glared at her. "But did he ask if you were safe, or offer any protection of his own?"

"No," Sara was forced to answer, starting to cry.

Jen sat up and put her arm around her. "I'm sorry Sara, I was blunt and crude. I think you are falling in love with him, but you're not the first woman he's treated this way, and he needs to be taught a lesson. Besides, I'm a little jealous and I want to play too."

Jen explained that in her investigation she had found that for years he had been inviting young women to hotel rooms, tying them up and taking pictures. It didn't appear that he took any of them by force, but he hadn't always been a perfect gentleman. Jen had been able to get in touch with a number of women who had this experience, and found them mysteriously unwilling to talk. It appeared that he had threatened them to silence with the pictures, and often insisted on further assignations, in one case even after the women in question was married. Jen was only able to get their stories after assuring them of her utmost confidence, indicating that she might be able to bring him to some sort of justice. Rather surprisingly, none of them wanted him to be seriously harmed or brought before the law, but they were all at least somewhat angry with him. Several indicated that they enjoyed being tied by him, but not being threatened.

"Sara, will you join in a little game with me? It might even make it more likely you'll be able to see Herr Strauss again." Sara agreed, so after ensuring that he would remain asleep a while longer and not go anywhere when he awoke, they planned the next day's activities. Actually, Jen had it pretty well worked out already, so she filled Sara in and sent her back to her own bed, then went to bed herself.

Hermann Strauss awoke to find his ankles and wrists cuffed and bound to the top and bottom of the bed, Sara lounging in the easy chair nearby. She too was dressed differently than when he fell asleep with his arms encircling her contented, gently breathing bound body. Sporting a leather bustier which emphasized her breasts rather like the thick silk ropes she had worn the previous evening, through with entirely different affect, Sara projected voluptuous severity, leather chaps and boots finishing her outfit below.

"You are full of surprises, my dear", Herr Strauss said with a mixture of German polish and British understatement. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'll get breakfast," Sara replied, dodging his question and disappearing out the door. She returned a few seconds later with a tray neatly set with coffee, fruit, rolls and an electric prod. "We'll have a light breakfast, since you have a busy morning ahead. Don't worry, we've rescheduled your flight to later this afternoon - you'll be at your hotel in time to be ready for your rehearsal tomorrow. Your agent didn't seem to be particularly surprised about your delay!"

After putting the tray down on the beside table she sat down on the bed and ran her hands over his bare chest and up his bound arms. "You've been very naughty, haven't you, Herr Strauss." Sara didn't elaborate, but Hermann Strauss had a feeling she knew more than she let on. He winced and tensed his body as Sara pressed the prod into his groin, but she didn't press the trigger. "I'm going to make you a bit more comfortable for breakfast now. Don't try any funny business - I'm armed and dangerous," she said with a broad salacious grin. "Sit up and put your hands in front of you when I release them."

With the prod still in one hand Sara unhooked Hermann's wrists from the bed, but not from each other. He swung them over his head and down in front and sat up as commanded, and she fastened the chain which had bound him to the bed around his back, securing his hands to his waist. She stacked up the pillows and pushed them against his back to help him sit, as his legs were still bound, and began to feed him.

Herr Strauss tried to remember if any of the women he had previously bound and fucked had ever fed him breakfast afterwards, and drew a blank. For that matter, he had never himself been bound, and was trying to integrate the idea. For a man used to being in control all his life, it was a novel and liberating experience, and he felt he was safe in this beautiful home, secured to this elegant comfortable bed in the company of this luscious woman. How many of those other women had felt equally safe tied up by him in strange and sometimes seedy hotel rooms? This thought made him a little uneasy as Sara seductively fed him grapes and carefully broken pieces of roll, then shared a cup of coffee with him, along with a moist and delicious kiss.

"May I still call you Hermann?" Sara asked with a smile.

"What would you do if I refused?" he asked, returning the smile.

"Guess" she responded with a rather mean grin, reaching for the prod.

"I would have said 'Yes' regardless," he replied, with a little shiver of excitement, wondering why he found the threatening gesture so arousing.

Sara leaned over and kissed him firmly on his neck. Bringing her lips close to his ear she whispered "Hermann, I want you to meet my friend Jen. I'm going to tie you back down now. Don't resist or you know what I'll do." Jumping astride him she released his wrists and before he even realized they were free she leant forward and pressed her face against his, kissing him deeply as she quickly spread his wrists and fastened them to chains hidden at each corner of the bed. "Jen's a tormentor," Sara informed him with a grin, sinking her tongue deep into his mouth in another kiss. She leaped off, making a little erotic wiggle, and headed out the bedroom door, closing it behind her.

Herr Strauss was totally nonplussed. What started as a simple, though delicious, dinner and a night of conventional, albeit outstanding, sex, at least as he defined conventional, had veered in a completely unanticipated direction. He tested his bonds, shaking and pulling the chains. He was not stretched tightly, but he could not escape. He didn't seem to be in danger, either for his safety or of meeting his obligations, but he had no idea what the rest of the day held, a concept both infuriating and thrilling to him. Who was this Jen, and what was a tormentor? The minutes ticked by as the reality of his helplessness sank home. This Jen could keep him waiting as long as she wished.

Suddenly the door flew open and Jen breezed in, naked as the day she was born. Well, almost naked - she was carrying a tote bag, which she put down next to the bed, out of Herr Strauss's sight, then lay down beside him smiling, her head resting on his outstretched arm facing him, one arm over his chest, her fingers looping threateningly through his pubic hairs.

"Let's get to know each other a bit better before I get started," Jen whispered into his ear, as she gently brushed his penis, then slid her hand up his chest to his mouth, circling his lips with her finger, then pressing them to her own. "I believe I know what you do for a living, and I also know a little more than you'd like about what you do for recreation. Would you like to know what I do?"

"I suspect that you do not make your living in music, Miss Jen. Do you play an instrument?"

"No, unless you consider the human body to be an instrument - as I do. I'd like you to call me Mistress Jen. It acknowledges our current reality," she replied with a smile, as she ran her hand up his arm to his bound wrist, raking him lightly with her fingernails on the way back down.

"I conduct an ensemble of sorts, almost every day. Seven deliciously bound men and women writhe and struggle, suffering exquisitely at my touch as I punish them for their crimes - and it's completely legal! You can even buy a ticket to come and see me perform. It costs much more than a ticket to one of your performances, but you're a reasonably wealthy man, Mr. Strauss, and I assure you, it's a very interesting audience, very exclusive. I'm sorry your plane is too early for you to catch me today - perhaps another time." With that, Jen arched herself over him, pressing her breasts into his chest. Kissing him languidly, then raising herself on her elbows, she locked him firmly in her most severe gaze, giving him a little time to internalize her profession, then smiled, continuing quietly "But I'm here to play YOU now - time to get on with our lesson."

Jen climbed off the bed and reached into the bag, extracting a short telescoping spreader, and the electric prod. "Spread your legs," she commanded. Hermann was a bit confused how to respond, as his ankles were still bound together. "NOW" she shouted, pressing the prod into his side and pressing the trigger. Hermann yelped and bucked, and as he recovered from his surprise she thrust her arms between his legs, separating his knees enough to insert the spreader. "Relax and let me spread you wider," she ordered, softly and almost invitingly, as she grasped the two sides of the spreader and pulled them apart. The bar ratcheted quietly as his knees moved further apart and his legs rolled outward, exposing his vulnerability. She gave a final few twists to the knurled ring in the middle, forcing him to his limit.

Hermann Strauss was quite uncomfortable. His legs were bent at the knees and stretched a bit beyond the bounds of comfort, but much worse, he had never felt so exposed before a woman in his life. He recalled having tied several women rather like this in the past, and remembered how excited he had been as he prepared to ravish them. He wondered now how they must have felt as he towered over their helpless bodies, throbbing with anticipation, before easing himself down into their yawning lips, receptive or perhaps not, doing as he alone pleased.

Jen continued with his preparation. Sliding a long strap under the small of Hermann's back, she fastened each end to the bed's canopy rails and tightened them, suspending him several inches in the air, his anus exposed and accessible between his spread legs.

"Mistress Jen, is this really necessary?" he complained, feeling acutely humiliated.

"Shut up - it would be pity to have to gag your handsome face - I might want to kiss you while I fuck you and make myself come. That's a concept I think you're familiar with, are you not?" Hermann realized she must know quite a lot more about his previous escapades than he thought would ever be revealed, as he'd been careful to extract promises of silence.

"You won't be coming though, not this time. Fair is fair."

Jen was not speculating. Michael had been working on the neurophysiology of orgasm, and partly for the advancement of knowledge, partly for the amusement of the household, he had developed an anal plug with a variety of sensors which was uncannily capable. It could readily distinguish sexual arousal from impending orgasm, at least in a male, and could detect an oncoming climax in sufficient time to take effective countermeasures. The latest version of the plug had a tiny compressor which could inflate a constricting band, as well as shocking devices both on the surface of the plug and for external connection. Wearing this device connected to an inflatable penis ring could be an exquisitely frustrating experience for a man. But it was marvelous for teaching self-control. Jen took one out of her bag.

Hermann Strauss felt excruciatingly vulnerable with much of his body suspended off the bed, bound hands and feet, stretched immobile with his legs bent and spread, staring anxiously at the high tech dildo with its little straps dangling from Jen's hand. Jen, essentially naked in latex gloves but all the more powerful for it, inspected him with detached amusement. "Herr Strauss, I do believe you are a virgin. I'll be gentle. Wouldn't want to hurt you, would I." She set the device aside for the moment.

Hermann wondered if she was serious, or just playing with his mind. In fact, it was both. Oiling up one hand, she eased a finger against his clenched sphincter. He winced in anticipation. He'd been examined by doctors, he recalled, and just tried to distance himself from the experience. Now, bound by a beautiful woman, he might as well try to get into it, he thought, a little reluctantly.

"Just relax and let me in. You know I'm going to plug you - let me make it easy for you." Lubricating her other hand and massaging his penis, she eased her finger in and back out, then circled his anus, sending an unexpected wave of pleasure through his body. Easing back in, she smiled at him. "Not so bad, is it," she whispered, taking care not to make him come as she felt him relax. Before long she was able to insert a second, then a third finger, as he sighed, submitting himself to the pleasure of, rather remarkably, his first erotic anal penetration. But quick as a wink she withdrew her fingers and slid in the plug, pressing it firmly home. Hermann grunted in surprise as she tightened the narrow belt around his waist and secured the strap from front to back, nestling the little electrodes against the sides of his scrotum and fastening the constrictor around his penis.

"Gotcha" she exclaimed with a grin. Without taking time to explain what the device was, she continued mysteriously "Now let's try it out," leaving Hermann wondering what its purpose might be, or how he would know if it was working or not.

"Let's make you a little more comfortable." She loosened the strap suspending him off the bed, and reached between his legs, releasing the ratchet on the spreader. Hermann felt the outward force on his legs suddenly relieved, and stretched himself out straight, easing his cramps. He was surprised though that as his legs came together the feeling of fullness in his buttocks intensified. Jen massaged him back to full erection, and climbed aboard.

"It feels so good to have you inside me" Jen cooed as she eased herself up and down on Herr Strauss, leaning forward to meet his lips in a deep erotic kiss. Hermann was sure he had died and gone to heaven, bondage notwithstanding, as he felt himself surging toward climax.

"Yeoww" he yelled, as the device shocked him in the anus, on the scrotum, and compressed his penis painfully. "God damn you" he swore and glared at Jen, who gave him an evil smile in return.

"Herr Strauss, I suggest you learn to control yourself. I'm nowhere close yet. We're playing Mahler, not Sousa."

Hermann glowered at Jen, but he quickly realized that he could in fact make the moment last. Michael's device was capable of subtle response if given a chance, and the slight constriction on his penis and tingling in his rectum soon gave him the feedback he needed to stay on a high plane of arousal without going over the edge. At times he felt like a human dildo, serving merely for Jen's pleasure, but the device's lesson was not lost on him. Recognizing that he would not come without Jen's permission, he threw himself into the performance of the duet, Jen soon shouting out with pleasure as she rode him in ecstatic abandon, finally exploding in radiant orgasm as she thrust herself mercilessly against his body and kissed him ferociously.

Hermann's newly acquired self control was not yet equal to that onslaught, and he was shocked and squeezed again and again as Jen writhed and bucked on him, her orgasm seeming to last forever. He felt a pang of regret as he imagined what it would have been like to come together with her in that intense exchange, but realized that he would never have had anything like the stamina or the patience to attempt it before. He was also rather angry, exclaiming petulantly as Jen eased herself off him, "Mistress Jen, am I not to be allowed to come too?"

"Be careful what you wish for. I'm not done with you, and trust me, you do not want to come just yet." Jen reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of steel shackles connected by a chain about a foot long. Reaching over Herr Strauss, her delicious breasts dangling over his face, she snapped one shackle on his far wrist. Climbing back off him she pulled the chain hard toward his other wrist and slapped him smartly on the chest, forcing him to convulse and allow himself to be pulled upward upon relaxing. As he recovered from his surprise she pulled his other wrist over and snapped the second shackle around it. On account of the short chain, and the fact that his wrists were still cuffed by chains to the bed, along with his ankles below, Hermann was now stretched rather tightly. She snapped a second pair of shackles around his ankles, its chain loose over the cuffs already securing them together.

"Hermann Strauss, you are under arrest for the thoughtless and inconsiderate violation of women for your pleasure alone, and for the use of compromising photographs, not only for sordid purposes, but also to enforce the silence of, and repeated access to your lovers, willing or unwilling. You will appear at the dungeon of the House of Bondage to answer these charges in twenty minutes." With that she walked to the closet and took out a beautiful gossamer gown. Deftly swirling it over her shoulders, she returned to the bed and kissed Hermann lightly on the lips, sliding her hands over his face and down his chest, then headed out the door. "See you soon," she called as she closed the door behind her.

Hermann Strauss remained stretched and chained on the bed, reflecting on his charges, astonished to think that he was being "arrested" by a naked woman who had just used him to achieve a stunningly beautiful orgasm while he lay helpless, denied his own. The fullness in his rectum reminded him that he still wore the orgasm-denying device, though he certainly had no way to relieve his pent-up sexual frustration himself, secured as he was.

He had about five minutes to reflect, then two staffers from JenLiz Productions entered, each armed with electric prods. Aware of the pain these could inflict, and hobbled by the shackles and chains on his wrists and ankles, he offered no resistance as they removed the leather cuffs and ordered him to get up from the bed and bring his hands down to his waist. Quickly fastening another chain to his wrist shackles and pulling it tight behind his back to bind his hands to his sides, they shuffled him to the elevator and down to the dungeon.

Hermann Strauss had been wondering what the "dungeon of the House of Bondage" could possibly be, though he had figured he wouldn't have to find his own way there in twenty minutes. In the center of the well-equipped chamber a vertical pole was set up, with two horizontal bars, one close to the floor, one above head-height, each with leather cuffs attached at the ends. Hermann was soon spread-eagled by these cuffs, two thick leather straps securing his chest and groin firmly back to the pole. His feet were off the floor, his weight taken by the straps and a saddle nestled tightly into his crotch. The saddle supported an anal penetrator which invaded him rather uncomfortably, and a sleeve which enclosed his penis out in front. Several wires and tubes dangled ominously from the assembly.