Where Did I Put The Sex?

I hobbled to the bathroom, propped myself against the washbasin and cleaned myself up. Shaving was dangerous.

In my bedroom I found that dressing myself was a contortionist’s nightmare. My plastered ankle was either in the way or the pain in my knee was impeding my movements. It was twenty minutes later before I joined Trudi in the kitchen. I could butter bread. I could make up lunch packs. I couldn’t cook breakfast but I could cut toast, lay out tea trays and do any repetitive job that could be done sitting at the table.

Trudi appreciated my help but was too hurried to do more than acknowledge me by a passing stroke on my head.

When the kettle started to boil on the hob I became over ambitious. I started towards it on my crutches. Trudi came back in and shouted at me. She thought I was taking too much of a risk.

“Sit down and stay sitting. If you are going to be stupid you have to leave the kitchen. Don’t move. Can I trust you?”

She seemed to decide that she couldn’t. She pushed my chair close to the table and grabbed a spare apron.

“Put this round your waist,” she ordered.

I did. I tried to tie it but she grabbed the waist ribbons. She threaded them through a couple of belt loops on my trousers and tied it to the chair back with a hard knot.

“There!” she said. “Now I know you will stay.”

I had to. I couldn’t reach the ends of the apron that she had tied off to a rung under the chair. I kept on buttering bread and packing until Trudi told me to stop.

“Time for your friends’ breakfast, Danny. Stay there and eat yours.”

Gretel was working in the dining room. Trudi rushed backwards and forwards keeping Gretel supplied, delivering food, removing dirty dishes, and replenishing coffee and tea. I heard my friends leaving as a noisy crowd.

Trudi set the kitchen table as if I was in the dining room. I had everything set out for me – cereal, filter coffee, a teapot, toast, butter, marmalade, jam and a large plate of “English Breakfast”. Trudi and Gretel sat down facing me and ate their own frugal breakfast of muesli.

“What shall I do with him today, Gretel?” Trudi asked. “I can’t leave him tied to a kitchen chair.”

“You haven’t?” Gretel exclaimed. She stood up and walked behind me. “I see you have.”

Gretel kissed my cheek.

“That is for sympathy. You will need it now Trudi has got your claws into you.”

“Gretel!” Trudi protested. “I’m not that bad.”

“I don’t know what you’d call it but tying a new boyfriend to a chair with your apron on his first morning is not in the etiquette books, Trudi.”

Gretel was standing beside me. She put an arm round my shoulders then it slid across my chest.

“Danny. If you need help getting away from Trudi just ask me. She is my friend but she does get carried away.”

She pressed her body against me and looked at Trudi. The back of my head was resting between Gretel’s breasts.

“Please, Trudi, be gentle with him and not just for his ankle. You wanted him last year. Now you have got him don’t frighten him away. I listened to his friends last night and this morning. The women like Danny. If you hurt him there could be trouble with our guests. He could have half a dozen women wanting to mother him.”

I should have noticed something from Gretel’s remarks. The penny didn’t drop until much later when it was too late. Gretel had listened to my friends. They would have been speaking in English. Gretel had understood. I had always spoken to Gretel and Trudi in German and had no idea how much English they spoke or understood.

I was more intrigued by the idea that my friends’ girlfriends were interested in me. None of them had expressed any attraction for me although several had shown sympathy about my ex-girlfriends departure. Now Gretel seemed to be defending me as well. I was cradled between her breasts and her arms were wrapped across me. It was almost as if Gretel was claiming me. I had enough woman in Trudi. Gretel had a boyfriend. What would he think if he saw me now?

“Don’t worry, Gretel. I’ll be careful with him. Can I have him back, please?”

Gretel gave me a squeeze, tilted my head back even further between her soft breasts and kissed my forehead.

“The answer to your original question, Trudi, is that you will have to leave him here alone. I’m sure he will survive. You will, won’t you, Danny?”

“Yes, Gretel. As long as I have the computer I can stay somewhere for hours and not notice the time.”

“There you are, Trudi. Your problem is solved. Prop him up in front of the computer and then you can join me on the Moguls. You need the practice.”

“I know I do, Gretel. Are you sure, Danny? The cleaning staff will come for an hour or so but otherwise you will be alone.”

“Yes. Off you go. Untie me first, please.”

Gretel was already untying the apron. Her breasts pressed against me more than necessary. I was very aware of them and knew that she was teasing Trudi.

Trudi came to me, gently moved Gretel aside and helped me to stand up on my crutches. I didn’t really need them because I had two strong women holding me up. They deposited me in front of the computer with a packed lunch and a flask of coffee.

They went to change. They stopped in to see me on their way out. I did a double take. They were both wearing skin tight skiing clothing, the brightly fluorescent kind worn by serious competitors to gain a few seconds on a run. Every curve of their bodies was as obvious as if they had been naked. Their curves were well worth looking at. My admiration amused both of them and I was cuddled against both bodies. When they left I was feeling very excited and my trousers were stretched by my erection.

I opened one of the incomplete stories and started to write. Trudi and Gretel had inspired me to write more erotic passages. If they kept this up, by the end of the fortnight my stories might even be sexed up enough to get good votes. I was barely aware that I heard the cleaning staff arrive, busy themselves throughout the chalet and depart.

I pounded away at the keyboard. My erection kept an insistent background to my writing. I could feel their lycra sheathed bodies pressed against me and the contrast between the impact of their breasts. Trudi’s were larger and softer; Gretel’s were still large but firmer. At one point in my writing I seemed to have my face buried in Trudi’s cleavage and the back of my head deep in Gretel’s. Their breasts surrounded my head and erect nipples pressed against erect nipples through the skin of my ears. My face was hot from arousal.

I took a break about lunchtime. I couldn’t maintain the level of excitement and I needed to go to the bathroom. I managed to prop myself on one crutch long enough. I even washed my hands with a crutch jammed in an armpit.

I swivelled the chair away from the computer as I ate my lunch. It was carefully made, not that my friends’ lunches hadn’t been carefully made, but Trudi had added some extras that weren’t in the others including a piece of Apfel Strudel that made my mouth water even while I looked at it. I followed it with some coffee from the flask.

Before starting to type again I re-lived last night in Trudi’s bed. She had made love to me and I had enjoyed being a passive partner. I was soon in the mood to write again.

I had saved a completed story and was well advanced on a rewrite of another when I heard Trudi and Gretel returning. I saved my work and exited from Word.

They were excited. Both of them had come close to their season’s best times on the Moguls. I listened to the details and understood that they were close rivals on the ski slopes. I had never been in a ski competition. I was only a reasonably competent amateur who enjoyed skiing. From their conversation I knew that I wasn’t in their class and that very few would be unless they were professionals.

Gretel picked up my coffee flask and shook it.

“Trudi! Next time give him more coffee. This is empty.”

“Of course I will. I didn’t want him to have a full bladder.”

“I haven’t got one, ladies, I managed to get to the bathroom.”

That worried them. What if I had fallen over? They fussed around me until they saw the time. They rushed off to start preparing for my friends’ return. Trudi dropped off another flask of coffee on the way back from one of her excursions to the dining room.

I didn’t hear my friends return. As I finished a passage I suddenly heard that they were back. I saved the file and closed down.

I hobbled through to the lounge. They made room for me by the fire. I listened to the tales of their day’s skiing. I admit it. I was jealous. I had come here to ski but couldn’t. I had written better than I had done for months but I could write anywhere at anytime. I couldn’t ski when I wanted to.

Someone mentioned Trudi and Gretel. As they waited for the ski-lift in mid-morning a commentary from the Mogul run was getting excited about the women’s practice runs.

Trudi had beaten Gretel’s time by eight hundredths at the halfway mark and by a whole second by the finish. For some reason this was bad news for Austria. Gretel’s next run had come within fifteen hundredths. There had been a groan from the commentator when Trudi’s next run was faster than her first and only seven hundredths short of the season’s best for any woman.

My friends had found out that Trudi and Gretel would be competing in an International Amateur Competition at the weekend. What did I know about it?

I knew nothing. All I knew, and I wouldn’t say, was that both women looked stunning in their competition ski-wear and that they both had very pleasant breasts.

After the meal I was very tired. I don’t know if it was yesterday’s journey, last night with Trudi, the effects of the painkillers or the amount of writing I had done. I fell asleep in front of the log fire.

I was woken by Trudi’s hand stroking my face.

“Come on, sleepy head, time for bed.”

She helped me to stand. I shuffled through the door to the staff quarters and into the bathroom. I returned towards my room but Trudi intercepted me. She steered me into her room and to sit on her bed. She stripped me and lowered me to the bed. I watched as she undressed from her dirndl outfit. It made more interesting viewing than more modern clothing. She made a production even of the removal of her apron. Under her thick pleated skirt she had several wide petticoats that rustled as she pulled them over her head.

I was startled when she fitted the petticoats back under her skirt, wrapped the apron around them and put the heap beside my head on the pillow. She put on a short cotton night-shirt that barely covered her pussy. As she moved I could see that she was a natural blonde with no bikini line in her tan.

She turned the light off and slid beside me. Her hands reached for mine. Before I knew what she intended she had tied my hands together with some silky material.

I would have protested. Her lips stopped my mouth. Her kiss was insistent and I didn’t notice what she was doing with her hands.

Her lips withdrew. She pushed some soft material into my open mouth, cradling my head with an arm so that I could not move away. She tied something around my lower face to hold the material in.

This was worrying. This was our second night together. We hadn’t discussed bondage nor set any rules. Now my hands were tied and I had a plastered broken ankle I couldn’t resist. I couldn’t make a noise except a soft grunt. Even if I could, would Gretel hear? No one else was likely to. If Gretel heard, would she come?

I thought this was like the plot of one of my stories. Trudi couldn’t be re-enacting it for me. If it was my story then I knew what the skirt and petticoats were for.

I hadn’t downloaded that story. It was an old one, completed at least a year ago. This must be a coincidence. There were some similarities.

Trudi tied a strip of wide satin ribbon around my waist. She gripped my tied hands and secured one wrist to the ribbon. She released the other and forced it to the side of my body. Flat on my back under her weight I tried to stop her. She moved my hand against my futile resistance. It was tied to the ribbon. My hands were now fixed to my sides.

Another ribbon went loosely around my knees. Trudi straddled my chest. In the gloom I could see her bush a few inches from my face. I could look up inside her night-shirt to see the shape of her breasts. Their swelling bulge hid her face.

Trudi reached beside me for the skirt and petticoats. Untangling them from the apron she lifted them over her head and down to her waist. I lost sight of her as I disappeared under the spread of rustling petticoats.

She moved closer to my face. Her hands forced the skirt and petticoat behind my head and pulled my face hard against her bush. I was frustrated. If I was to be as close as this I wanted to taste and tongue. Gagged as I was all I could do was enjoy the female perfume. I did the best I could with my nose.

Trudi flattened my nose against my face. I struggled to move her. She pushed down harder and spread her lower lips. My nose sunk in to a warm wet cleft that was airless. My struggles grew wilder as I was starved of air. I couldn’t dislodge her.

She pulled back at the last moment, whipped skirt and petticoats away and let me breathe.

Her hands carefully ungagged me. As she did I was aware of severe pain from my ankle. I had thrashed so much that I had banged the ankle against the bedpost. It was objecting. I winced.

“What’s up, Danny? Scared of being controlled?” Trudi asked.

“No. I banged my ankle on the bedpost. It hurts.”

“When did you take your last pain-killer?”

“Oh.”

“You haven’t taken one, have you?”

“Not for at least six hours. Before the evening meal.”

“Then take one now.”

Trudi climbed off me, turned the light on, collected a pain-killer from my bedroom, propped me up on the pillow and gave me the pill followed by a sip of water.

“Men!” she snorted. “They need reminding about every little thing. It’s your pain. You should remember your pain-killer. How can I make your dreams come true if your ankle is screaming at you?”

“Sorry, Trudi.”

“I should think so. That pill won’t take effect for at least half an hour. You need sleep. So do I. Your dream will have to wait until tomorrow night.”

She took off the skirt and petticoats and put them on a chair. She turned off the light and came to bed.

“All I can do now is smother you to sleep.” She said.

She pushed the pillow down, pulled my head against her breasts and settled us down. I was still tied but I relaxed against her warm soft breasts.

I woke to find myself alone and free of my restraints.

The silenced cuckoo clock told me that Trudi and Gretel must be starting to prepare the packed lunches and breakfasts. I hobbled to my room and dressed as fast as I could. I arrived in the kitchen just in time to repeat yesterday’s actions.

It was like a replay. Trudi even tied me to the kitchen chair with the apron. I asked to be released before I ate breakfast. I hadn’t had time to shave. Trudi helped me to the bathroom that now had a stool. Once I was sitting down shaving was easy.

I came back into the kitchen. Trudi helped me on to the chair and then tied me to it again. Gretel winked at me as if to say ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get you out if you want”.

I ate less breakfast. Last night had been quiet; yesterday I had only exercised my brain.

When my friends had left Gretel and Trudi sat down at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee.

“I’m going to town today, Danny,” Trudi announced. “Would you like to come along?”

“Yes, but…” I indicated my crutches.

“No real problem. I’m going to a shopping mall. They have wheelchairs available. I can push you around, or you can wheel yourself while I shop. You could sit in a coffee bar and wait if you get bored. Will you come?”

“Yes, Trudi, I’d like to.”

“Then get dressed for outside. It’s cold. I’m going to change.”

She left the kitchen.

“Gretel. Will you untie me please?” I asked.

“Did she forget?”

“I think so. Please?”

“Perhaps. You know how to say ‘thank you’?”

“Gretel! I thought you have a boyfriend.”

“I have. He’s not here. You are.”

“OK, Gretel. I’ll say ‘thank you’. I hope Trudi doesn’t see us.”

“She won’t.”

Gretel kissed me. I kissed her back, worried that Trudi might return. Gretel’s kiss was more insistent. I responded hoping the kiss would end. It did but she pulled me into her cleavage. As I’d thought it was a very nice cleavage with firm breasts. I felt a traitor to Trudi as my prick responded. Gretel held me tight and rubbed her breasts over my face. I flushed.

She stood up and went behind the chair. She untied me and helped me to stand. I went to my room supported by Gretel. She sat me on the edge of the bed.

“Do you need help?” she asked.

“I’d like to say ‘no’ but it wouldn’t be true. I do need help.”

Gretel stripped my trousers off my legs. She was putting a thicker pair on when Trudi appeared at the door. She smiled at me.

“Now you know what friends are for,” Trudi said. “I left you tied up for Gretel. She wanted to kiss you. Did you like her kiss?”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure what I should say.

“If she’s good to me I might let her kiss you again. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“No, Trudi, I’d like to kiss Gretel again but…”

“Don’t worry. You are mine. I might lend you to Gretel but to no one else.”

Trudi came over to the bed. She pulled my head between her breasts.

“See. I can do it too. How would you like to be the meat in a two-girl sandwich?”

My expression answered her. Gretel knelt on the bed behind me. She rested the back of my head between her breasts. Trudi moved in front of me and pressed forward. Her breasts framed my face. They wrapped their arms around each other and I was squashed between them.

Gretel wriggled behind me. Trudi squirmed in front. Then they released me. Trudi took Gretel’s place; Gretel took Trudi’s. They repeated the squashing. I had never had an experience like it. Even though I was being pressed between clothed breasts I was very aroused.

They stood up.

“Come on, Danny. Time for your ride.” Trudi said.

They helped me into a thick coat. I shuffled out to the car supported by Trudi. Getting into the car wasn’t easy even with both of them helping.

At the shopping mall I waited in the car while Trudi collected the wheelchair. It was snowing hard. By the time she returned the car’s windscreen was obscured by snow.

Trudi positioned the chair by the passenger door and helped me into the chair. Then she pulled a leg muff up and settled it around my hips and buttoned it over my chest. My arms were tucked inside and a strap around my chest held me pinioned. Trudi added an overall cape that was heavily quilted. Despite the cold I felt warm and totally protected from the weather but packaged into helpless anonymity.

“I don’t want you to get a frozen face,” Trudi said.

Before I could say anything she wrapped a fluffy scarf tightly over my mouth and tied it behind my head. She flipped the hood over my head and pulled the drawstring tight so that only my eyes were visible.

“There,” she announced, “You are well-protected now.”

I tried to speak. The fluffy scarf filled my mouth.

“Urgh…” was all that came out but very quietly.

“What was that, Danny? I didn’t quite hear.”

“Mmmf!”

“What a shame. I can’t hear you. Neither can anyone else. Off we go.”

Trudi locked the car and pushed me across the car park. I hoped that she would unwrap me once we were in the mall but she didn’t. She leant over to whisper in my ear.

“Most of the mall is unheated because people come here in winter clothing. The only warm parts are the clothes shops. That’s where we are going. If you are good I might unravel you there.”

She wheeled me into a dress shop. She wandered around and selected a couple of dresses from the rails. She spoke to one of the shop assistants and then pushed me into a large changing room.