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| This page is about the nicest part of bondage... | Friends! | Remember Ava? No?! She won our hearts awhile ago. She's back! |
AVA!
Hi, shevette!
Bet you don't even remember me, after all this time! Well, exams, graduation, and then getting a job kept me SOOOO busy . . .and then I didn't even have a computer! My roommate moved out and took her computer with her, so I was left in the cold for way too long.
Fortunately, my parents just gave me a computer as a "reward" for taking the Exams. My dad said they were going to wait until the results came back, so that it would be a gift for passing. But he said I needed it now, and he's pretty sure I'm going to pass, anyway. I wish I was that sure!
But now, I've got the computer, and there's no stopping me.
I don't know when you're going to read this -- I don't know if you're still on your two week adventure with Rob -- but that's OK. I just wanted to tell you about some of the things I've done very recently.
I met a great guy a few months ago. He went to another school, but he took a review course that I did. He and I both like to play tennis, so we went to play after "class" a few times, and then met up for drinks here and there. We were both pretty drunk one Friday night when we started talking about sex. I don't remember exactly how we got on the subject, but before I knew it, I was telling him all about my letters on your site (and how I just sort of dropped out of the picture on you . . . ). It turns out he's had a lot of experience with bondage. I found it utterly fascinating. He'd describe some of the things he's done, and I would just be amazed -- and intrigued. To be perfectly honest, I didn't really think of him as anything more than a buddy until that conversation. After that, I wanted to find out as much about his "escapades" as possible.
And then I was in complete "predator" mode. I pursued him as fervently as I have anyone. I set up lots of chance encounters and steered the conversation toward sex and bondage as often as I could.
I started having dreams about being tied up by him, lying helpless on the bed as I watched his shoulders come down over me . . . how my body would react to his every touch . . . how he would tease me into a frenzy . . .
It didn't take long for our relationship to turn sexual. We first made love in a pavilion at a local park (at the top of a hill, looking over the city), and then pretty much every spare moment we had. I have to say, this relationship is very sexual -- and that's great!
He tied me up for the first time about a month ago. It was simple. He just tied my hands behind me and then to the spokes of my bed's headpiece. Then he covered me in Hershey's syrup and had his dessert.
But that's not what I really wrote about.
It's amazing how far I've come in the past few months, and it's due in large part to you and your willingness to be so open. I think just knowing my letters are on your site is a big help. It's as though I don't really have anything to hide anymore.
Anyway, as if you couldn't already figure it out, preparing for the Exams is huge, stressful project. I think we were all wound pretty tight by the time it came around. One thing I knew for absolute sure -- I was going to need a huge release after it was over.
The tests were three days long, but the third day i only had a half-day. I couldn't wait for it to be over . . . I didn't know exactly what I was going to do to celebrate, but I knew I didn't want anything to be repsonsible for for at least a week after the test.
He came up with an excellent idea. The test ended on Thursday. He would keep me tied up from Thursday to Sunday.
I don't want you to think this wasn't a big step for me. I had my apprehensions, but I also knew I've grown beyond the basics and I was ready to try something a little bigger. I also knew that if I was tied up for a few days, I woludn't have to do or be responsible for anything!
So the exams finally came around. By Thursday, I was strung out. We were finally finished, but we had to celebrate! We hit the bars at about 2 pm -- I think there were about 15 of us at any given time, if not always the same ones. But I was there the whole time! By 8 o'clock I was pretty loopy, from being tired and from the alcohol, of course. He had left for a little while, but he was back and he saw it was time to go home. We said our goodbyes and headed for his car.
It was still daylight out, but when we got inside his car, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs. I felt it between the legs when he locked my hands behind me and started the car. On the way home, he told me about a bag of tricks he had brought with him. The cuffs were only the beginning.
We went back to my apartment, since I had it to myself. He put a jacket over me as we made our way into the building. We didn't see anyone, and that disappointed me a little.
Once the door was closed, he put a hand on the side of my neck and kissed me deeply, and I melted right there. Then he took me into the bedroom and began taking off my shorts and panties (and shoes). Once he had those off, he reached into a duffel bag he had brought and got out some strips of an old bedsheet. He sat me down on the bed and tied my ankles.
Then he unbuttoned my shirt, undid my bra, and pushed them over my shoulders and down to my wrists. He then laid me down on my stomach. He used more strips of the sheet and tied my elbows . . . tight enough that I couldn't move my arms, but not right together. Then, over my bunched-up clothes, he tied my hands. Then he took off the handcuffs and my shirt and bra.
He tossed the clothes aside and turned me over. He kept eye contact with me while he got out a ball gag. I never really liked them before -- something about having a hard material between my teeth. But this time, I felt a lump in my throat -- the good kind -- as the gag got closer to my mouth. I opened my mouth to take it in as far as it was comfortable, and he gentlly buckled the strap behind my head. I don't really know how far it was in, but he then got out his camera, so I guess I'll get to see eventually.
I've never had pictures like that taken before, and if anyone else ever sees them, I will rip his guts out of him, but the sense of being helpless to stop it just got me burning. I felt my thigh muscles tense up as I wanted to move my legs, but I couldn't do much more than curl them up.
He turned me over again, and took pictures from the foot of the bed. I started to rub myself against the bed. He saw that and put the camera down. He put his hand on the inside of my thigh, and moved up to my wetness. A well-placed index finger caused me to jolt and let out a little shriek.
He put his other hand under my chin as he worked me, inside and out. He held my head in place, not letting me flop around like I wanted to. (I supposed I got my revenge from the torrent of drool which ran over the ball and down my chin!)
I managed to get up on my knees and squeeze his hand between my legs, but I think he may have wanted me to do that anyway. As I screamed into the ball, things I'd never say out loud, he was almost slamming his fingers into me.
He took his hand from my chin and brace one of my legs with it, since I was starting to move more than he could conrtol, and thinking about it now, I could have fallen off the bed if I got too wild. But that was fine because I could finally move my head.
I must have climaxed at least three times, and I trembled uncontrollably as I collapsed. He knew I needed to be untied at least a little bit, or I would have really sore muscles before too long. He undid my ankles and elbows, but left my hands tied.
He had to clean up my face, which by this time was a mess of drool, tears, sweat, and some makeup. He went into the bathroom and brought back a wet washcloth. He wiped my face and neck and shoulders, and took off the gag.
He asked me if I hated the gag. I could feel it in my jaw, but in all honesty, I hadn't minded it too much. I told him we could call it an occasional spicer.
He cleaned the rest of me up, and then left me in my room. I heard him rattling around in the kitchen, and soon enough, he came and got me.
For some reason I found it cute, but since his cooking skills were not all that great, he had prepared some of those Pillsbury toaster scrambles -- the Pop Tarts with egg, cheese and bacon in them. He walked me into the living room, sat me down on the couch, and started feeding me. I hadn't noticed how starved I was, but I ate two of the pastries and was eyeing the third, but he was hungry, too . . .
We watched Cruel Intentions, the movie, and this is how -- after dinner, he tied my legs again, covered my naked body with a blanket (air conditioning makes me cold if I just sit), and I watched with my head in his lap.
It's a sexy movie, if not all that good, and I'm sure he picked it because of that. The movie wasn't over before I started murmuring and fidgeting . . . it was getting me pretty hot again.
But he said he needed a shower, and I pouted. Little did I know what he had in mind.
He came back out of the bathroom, naked, wet, and walked me into the shower. He took his time washing me, taking special care at my breasts, nipples, and all the sensitive areas -- particularly the area right above my breasts. I pressed myself against him as much as I could, and when he put his hand inside me again, I told him it just wasn't going to do.
But since he was the one who was supposed to be in control, he told me he needed something from me first. Put simply, he wasn't quite hard yet (which I tried not to take personally), and he knew exactly what he wanted to get him there. He put a towel on the shower floor, and then helped me down to my knees.
He guided my mouth to him, and I took him in. I had never done it in a shower before, and the water running down his body and my face made it a whole new experience. I worked him with my tongue until I felt he was very hard, and that's when he started working his hips back and forth, holding my head in place.
It was a little bit mean, but when he started moving faster, I let him know he wasn't going to unload in my mouth (after all, he had another job to do) with a quick jab of the teeth. He pulled out of my mouth as I apoligized but told him what he needed to do.
He stood me up again and backed me against the wall. He kissed me as he guided himself into me, and then, with one hand on my bottom and one hand behind my shoulder, he made me make love to him, if you know what I mean by that.
He dried me off, but had to replace the wet sheet strip on my wrist. He handcuffed me before he untied it -- he was making sure I was never untied. (That rule was "bent," so to speak, when I had to go to the bathroom. Neither of us wanted to deal with that embarrassment.)
He took me back to my room, and back to the duffel bag. He took out leather cuffs and put them around my wrists and ankles.
Then he took a long but slender chain and attached it to one of my wrist cuffs. He sat me down on the bad, ran the chain around some of the headboard spokes, and wrapped it. Then he uncuffed that hand.
He kept hold of my cuffed hand and locked the cuff to the headboard as well. Then the locked the other end of the chain to that hand's leather cuff. He could then take off the handcuffs completely.
In effect, he had chained my arms to the headpiece, on the side of the bed where I slept. I was exhauted by that point, and since i was comfortable, I fell asleep pretty fast.
That was just the first night. I'll tell you about the rest soon.
I hope you're doing well -- I can't wait to hear from you again!
Ava
P.S. He sent me a picture this morning. He says it looks like me . . . and that he drew it himself. I think he's fudging on both counts, since it looks suspiciously like the Little Mermaid. I suspect he just found it somewhere on the net.
Here's another woman
who wrote to me,
click on this link:
a fan.
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