textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/ash.txt

Ash (Part 1)
(c) 1994 reddragon

Hot air blasted from the vents as she manoeuvred through the traffic.
Horns blaring, the slight smell of exhaust. She shook her head in
frustration as, beside her, a traffic cowboy began to stray in front of
her car. She slammed on the brakes, barely restraining herself from
cursing and leaning on the horn. She reminded herself that people were
idiots and that she would soon be home.

She didn't need the headache that was fast approaching. Her day at the
office had been an exercise in hell. It was everything she could do not to
quit today. She couldn't contain a smile. That really would have screwed
their precious project. Then they could quibble about who would next lead
the project. It was never ending. The petty bickering. The office
politics. No wonder nothing ever got done. She shivered despite the heater
in the old Pontiac. Idly she hoped that Ash had made some dinner tonight.
She glanced at her watch. She was late for any sort of dinner. Again she
considered what it would take to quit. At least her stress would get back
under control.

As she finally wandered up her quiet street towards her house, her
neighbour decided to back down his driveway without so much as a glance at
the road. She slammed on the brakes, and with a great screeching of tires
and scorching of rubber she managed to narrowly miss his rear bumper. She
let her head down on the steering wheel and silently wept. Her tears only
vaguely easing her frustration. When she finally looked up, Mr. Johnson
had disappeared. She shook her head, wiped away her tears of frustration
and turned into her driveway. As she opened her door, the cold took her
breath away. It must be a record today, she thought as she struggled
against the wind. The wind tore at her clothing and her hair as she
fumbled for her keys and slipped into the warmth of the house.

Shivering, she kicked off her shoes. She sighed as her nyloned feet
touched the floor. Those shoes must be the most uncomfortable contraptions
ever invented, she silently complained. She looked up and was surprised to
see that the house was dim. Normally, Ash kept all the lights on,
especially if she was here alone. She glanced into the dining room from
the front alcove. The table was set impeccably. Two candles sat in the
centre of the table, unlit. She could hear Ash fussing in the kitchen.
Slowly it dawned on her what was in store for the evening. She sighed
contentedly. She could use the diversion.

Finally beginning to warm up, she slipped her suede jacket from her
shoulders and hung it in the closet. She thought about it. Why am I doing
this? She still hadn't quite come to grips with herself ... or with Ash.
But it felt so right. She knew she was going to go through with it. Might
as well continue. As she thought about the night ahead of her, her stomach
exploded with tiny little butterflies. She still had trouble recognising
the tingling in her stomach as anticipation. Perhaps a little anxiety.

She tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths. Her nose picked up the
unmistakable scent of chicken cooking in the kitchen with Ash. She tried
to calm her fingers as she unbuttoned her blouse. She shuddered slightly
as the material slid down her skin. She dropped it at her feet. She hooked
her fingers into the waistband of her conservative skirt and slipped it
down her nyloned legs until it pooled at her feet. Nimbly she stepped out
of the circle of her skirt. She hesitated slightly as she reached behind
herself to unclip her bra. She considered putting back on her clothes and
walking down to the kitchen. But she couldn't do that. She wanted tonight.
She needed tonight.

The brassiere fell with the rest of her clothing at her feet. She felt the
slightly chilled  air against her bare breasts; she loved that feeling.
Embarrassed slightly, she noticed her nipples hardening with her thoughts
and the cool air. Her nylons slipped off her legs and she sighed as she
scratched her calves. That felt wonderful, her bare legs, her bare feet
against the cold floor. She flexed her bare toes feeling the floor as she
never could in shoes and socks. She slowly slipped her panties down her
bare legs and lightly flicked them away with her right foot.

Now came the hard part. She fought her mind. It is not wrong she wailed to
herself. She felt the familiar tingling in her midriff as she found
herself slowly sinking to her knees onto the cold hard floor. She could
feel the ceramic tile beneath her bare knees, harsh and unfeeling. She
leaned forward until she was on all fours. She could hear Ash stirring a
pot in the kitchen, just out of sight. Her hands felt the harsh tile; she
was aware of the cold unyielding tile against the top of her bare feet.
She realised how she looked and cringed inwardly. A naked woman, about to
crawl to the dinner table. She shivered in anticipation and willed herself
to move her hands and knees in a familiar crawling motion.

She was aware of her body as she always was when she was playing. Even
though no one was watching, she still felt her humiliation. Ash could walk
in at any moment. It wasn't as though she had never seen it before, but
the nude woman still wasn't quite used to the humiliation. She had done
this to herself. She could feel her bare breasts swinging gently as she
crawled. The cool air ruffling her hair, and between her legs. The harsh
cold floor beneath her knees, her hands, her feet. She struggled with her
feelings but continued until she reached the dinner table. She knelt
docilely beside the chair she knew Ash would use and waited.

Ash walked in moments later carrying a book of matches. A smile played in
her soft lips and she leaned over and ruffled her hair.

"You finally made it home, Trish? Hmmmm?", her smile never leaving her
face.

Ash bent down and lightly kissed her housemate's forehead. Trish knew that
an answer was not required and merely bowed her head after the kiss. A
slight smile played on her lips.

Ash smiled as she lit the candles on the table. "Wonder what fun we can
have with these later?".

Trish shuddered, wondering how it would feel. The butterflies exploded in
her stomach again.

Ash urged her housemate to crawl over to remaining chair. Trish climbed up
into the chair and sat quietly aware of her nudity and that Ash had just
witnessed her crawling like she was some sort of animal. Trish idly
wondered how Ash ever knew when to provide these distractions. She felt
Ash slowly and sensually wrapping soft cord around her bare right ankle.
She shivered at Ash's touch and at the feeling of the cord against her
skin. She felt her ankle being secured to the chair leg. She pulled gently
at her leg, but there was no give to Ash's knots. Ash knelt down and
firmly attached her left leg to the other chair leg. Trish held her hands
behind the chair and waited while Ash slipped another length of cord
around her wrists tying it off somewhere below. Trish tested her wrists.
No movement up or down. She was helpless and vulnerable in the chair.
Naked.

She watched quietly as Ash wound more cord above and below her bare
breasts, not uncomfortably, but enough to prevent her from leaning forward
or rising out of the chair. She struggled with the ropes for a moment and
then finally, began to relax. She felt her tension leave her body as
though it was a sparrow suddenly released from its cage. She sighed
feeling her restraint and freedom simultaneously.

Without a word, Ash rose to her feet and wandered back into the kitchen.

Trish felt her relaxation and idly watched the flames of the candles as
they flickered free as her soul. Her mind slipped back in time to her
first time.

She had always known that she was different. She couldn't quite understand
her feelings. She had always been fascinated by restraint. She had fought
it, of course. She couldn't understand it. It made no sense. Restraining
someone caused the butterflies. That wasn't normal. Reactions that she was
ashamed of. Reactions that she couldn't deny. Television heroes and
heroines. Helpless and vulnerable. She shivered whenever she saw it. When
she was old enough, she began to experiment with self-bondage. Of course,
she had no idea what it was called back then, she just enjoyed the
feelings that it invoked. As she grew older, she had tried so hard to
stop. She had known it was dangerous. Dangerous if she had been caught.
What if her parents had walked in, their daughter nude and tying herself
into the most amazingly elaborate schemes? She would have died. She and
Ash had been roommates all through college. And it wasn't until the last
year that Ash had finally caught her. She had been so ashamed when Ash
found her pretending to be hogtied, buck naked, her hands wrapped in cord,
her legs bound tightly and pulled back behind her. Her body face down on
the floor in the middle of her room. She had been careless. Forgotten to
lock the door. It was sort of amusing thinking back on it. Ash thought at
first that a burglar had done it. But Trish had only been pretending ...
and in a humiliated panic had freed her hands. Ash had understood. After
helping to untie her legs, they talked well into the night about the
strange feelings that Trish had. Ash made no judgments. She had even heard
of such things before. Everyone is different she had told Trish. There is
no such thing as normal. Early in the morning, when they had been too
exhausted to talk anymore, Ash had asked whether Trish had ever truly been
tied up. Trish had answered no, that she had always had to have some way
out. That she had never trusted anyone to do that to her. Ash slowly
picked up the rope that had previously bound Trish and looked at her
roommate questioningly. The butterflies had exploded in Trish again and
she dumbly nodded. She had watched in fascination, as for the first time,
someone else took control and wrapped the rope around her ankles. Ash had
then tied her hands behind her back and pulled the covers over her friend.
The bonds were not constricting at all, but Trish couldn't pull out of
them. Contentedly, she had fallen asleep in the ropes.

When she had awoke in the morning, she felt slightly disoriented. The
butterflies returned as soon as she had tried to move and found the ropes
still holding her limbs. She was about to call out when she noticed Ash
sitting quietly in her desk chair watching her. The feelings of
helplessness and vulnerability were like a drug. Ash could have done
anything to her and she couldn't have stopped it. But she had just stayed
and watched over her, sensing that Trish still needed time to understand.
She slowly got out of the chair and slowly released her friend from the
ropes. Trish sighed as she watched Ash simply leave without a word. No
words were needed. Ash slept the rest of the day as Trish tried to
remember everything. How it had happened. What it had felt like. She felt
wonderfully alive and stress free. Her exams were a forgotten memory. Her
life felt like a new beginning. A new chapter.

Since those college days, Ash had always been there for her as she began
to understand what she wanted and needed in her life. At times like these,
when life got so hard it made her cry, Ash was there. Understanding.
Providing. Somehow, Ash just knew. Trish smiled and pulled at her bonds.
She idly wondered what was in store for her tonight. What was for dinner?
What was Ash planning with the candles? How long was she going to be
secured in this chair? She squirmed and tried to be patient.

Trish closed her eyes and waited. As Ash finally came in she opened her
eyes to the soft footsteps of Ash carrying a steaming bowl of soup to the
table. Ash set it down in front of Trish and leaned forward to give her
friend a soft kiss on the forehead. Then wordlessly she took spoonful of
soup, tested it for heat with her tongue, and raised it to the bound
girl's lips. Unconsciously, Trish tried to raise her hand to take the
spoon and was quickly reminded of her helplessness. Ash knew what she was
doing. Trish couldn't do anything but eat, like a helpless child. Trish
relaxed in her ropes and docilely ate the offered soup. Ash took the next
spoonful for herself and alternated between herself and Trish. Soon the
soup was finished and Ash rose to her feet and took the dish to the
kitchen. As soon as Ash had risen, Trish whimpered softly. "Shhhhh, my
little one, there's more ...", she chided Trish as she disappeared into
the kitchen.

Trish could hear Ash preparing the next course in the other room. She
pulled against the ropes that held her nude body to the chair. Again she
wondered, why ever would Ash do this for her? It couldn't be all that
appetising for the other woman having a naked woman on display during
dinner. Yet, here she was with the butterflies of anticipation fluttering
through her. She glanced down at herself seeing the ropes holding her
torso and her bare breasts poking through them. She felt the familiar
stirring that always accompanied the sight of ropes on bare flesh. "Guess
it's not that bad having a naked woman at the dinner table", she whispered
to herself.

She was pulling weakly at her wrist ropes when Ash reentered the dining
area carrying a delectable chicken and rice dish which she set in front of
Trish. Trish leaned forward as far as she could inhaling the aromas of the
hot food, her stomach growling. Ash just smiled and let Trish enjoy her
labours. Ash spooned out some of the food out of the casserole dish
releasing a new batch of steam. Less food ended up on Trish's plate, but
she made no complaint, only a very low whimper of disappointment.

Ash quickly finished off the plate in front of her, glancing from time to
time at Trish just across the table. Trish squirmed in her restraint,
hungry and begging to be fed with her eyes. Ash smiled, knowing exactly
what the other woman wanted and needed tonight. Control. She needed to
give it up completely for the night. Then she would be all right.

Ash wiped her mouth deliberately with her napkin and glided to the
opposite side of the table. Lifting Trish's fork, she began to slowly feed
her housemate. The aroma of the still hot chicken and rice drove the bound
woman to salivate uncontrollably as she strained to gather the food faster
into her waiting mouth. All too soon, the dish was clean. Her belly felt
comfortably full and she sighed in contentment.

Trish watched helplessly as Ash reached into her handbag and removed a new
toy. Trish recognised the leather strap but did not understand the meaning
behind the bright red ball attached in the middle. Realisation dawned on
her as the ball was pressed gently to her lips. Trish opened her mouth as
Ash slipped the gag into her mouth effectively silencing her housemate.
Trish felt her mouth stretch to accommodate the ball, savouring the
sensations of helplessness. The gag completed her withdrawal from control.
She couldn't even speak to communicate her desires. Completely at Ash's
whims. She smiled as best she could around the oral intrusion.

Satisfied for the moment, Ash began to gather the dishes from the table.

"I should have you clean these with your tongue," Ash remarked as she
disappeared into the kitchen with a mischievous grin playing on her face.

Trish could hear Ash running water into their kitchen sink. Her mind
wandered as the water lulled her thoughts. Her arms were beginning to ache
a bit from being held in the same position for the better part of an hour.
She pulled at her bound wrists and tried to adjust her position. But the
ropes held her body firmly and all she could do was bite thoughtfully at
the gag and relax into her restraints. She found herself pulling at her
ankles wanting to stretch out like a kitten. Control. The pressures of the
drive and her work were slipping away from her. The butterflies were
returning to her stomach. Flittering. Wondering. Her mind focused on her
wrists, her ankles, her breasts, her mouth. Each exquisite pressure of her
captivity. She shuddered, and rested her head back feeling her hair
cascade through the rungs of the chair to caress her bare back. Tickling.
Sighing.

Ash returned, stepping lightly over the carpet of the dining room to join
her housemate. Ash sat in the adjoining chair and just gazed at her nude
friend, the ropes, her filled mouth, her powerlessness. After a while, she
leaned forward to kiss her housemate on her forehead. They both needed
this.

"You ready?" Ash's asked the bound woman in front of her.

Trish simply nodded.

Ash began to slowly release Trish from her constricting ropes. Her ankles,
her torso, and finally her wrists. Trish rubbed gently at her wrists,
gazing at the red welts buried into her soft skin by the ropes. She bit at
her gag, her eyes pleading with Ash to remove it. Ash just smiled and
waited for Trish  to rub the stiffness from her body. Knowing what she
wanted to do, and fighting herself all the way, Trish slowly slipped off
the chair seat and onto her knees. Rough carpet beneath her bare knees and
along her shins. She waited for Ash to guide her. Ash let her kneel there
for a few minutes while she sipped at her coffee.

Finally Ash gathered up the fine hair at the back of Trish's head and
guided the nude woman to all fours. Slowly Trish crawled at Ash's gentle
leash of her own hair. She was very aware of herself. In the office, she
was a different person. Her attitude, her clothes, her demeanour, her
control. All so different than the nude woman crawling at the feet of her
housemate like a pet, an animal. Which was really her? Trish knew. She
fought it, but she knew. Ash knew as well. Perhaps the only two people in
the world. Trish reluctantly accepted herself and continued her slow
crawl. Her jaw was beginning to ache from the pressure of her gag, but it
was not unbearable.

Trish felt the coolness of the air against her bare skin. The flow of the
air about her body. The muffled sounds she made as she moved her body in
the rhythm of the crawl. The coolness of the tile as she crossed the hall.
The gently pull and soft pain of Ash's guiding hand entangled in her hair.
The swing of her breasts between her arms. The slight smell of the coffee
that Ash carried. She felt alive; more alive and free than all the
countless hours she has spent in the confines of her office and her car.
No phone to answer, no memos to write. No worries. She was free to feel,
to lose herself to sensations.


Ash (Part 2)
(c) 1994 reddragon

Together, they reached the family room. Trish was led to the coffee table,
just in front of the sofa. Ash smoothed Trish's hair and then patted the
table. Knowing what was expected from her, Trish moved her body up onto
the table. Face up. Vulnerable. Ash bent down and softly kissed each of
her breasts. Trish gasped at the sensation as well as she could with the
ball wedged in her mouth. Ash then wrapped the soft cord back around
Trish's wrists, gently manoeuvring them above her head. Another rope
secured the wrists there. Her legs were spread and attached securely to
the table legs at the opposite side of the table. Ash placed her coffee
down on the table between Trish's spread thighs. She then wrapped the
remainder of the soft rope about her housemate's waist securing her fully
to the table.

It was an uncomfortable position, but Trish was still savouring the gentle
touch of Ash's lips on her breasts. She pulled weakly at her restraints,
but didn't need to test them to know that she was helpless. Control. She
felt the unusual chill of the room against her bare skin. Her nipples
tightened further as the cool air brushed them as Ash's lips had but
moments before.

Ash wandered over to the fireplace and began to build a low fire, just
enough to take the chill off the room. The crackle of the fire and the
flickering glow was somehow comforting and relaxing. Trish could feel the
dry heat of the fire against her bare flank. She pulled again at the bonds
and finally relaxed. Her mind was releasing itself. Rather than worry
about what would happen to her, she found herself slipping into a state of
quiet acceptance. Ash wouldn't hurt her.

Ash returned and picked up her coffee from the table, brushing her fingers
lightly along Trish's bare thigh. Trish squirmed to prolong the sensation,
but Ash simple retired to the sofa, content to watch the dancing flames
and gaze over the nude woman held in front of her. She gathered up the
remote control and switched on the stereo. The Moody Blues filled the room
with soft music. The swelling music lulled Trish to close her eyes and
enjoy, even though she was beginning to envy Ash her comfortable seat in
the plush sofa. She squirmed again against the unyielding surface of the
table; made an incoherent noise into her gag. Ash smiled at her, knowing
that she hadn't quite given herself up, but was well on the way. She would
heal tonight. Ash sipped at her coffee and trailed her fingers idly along
her housemate's bare skin, sending shivers through the bound woman. She
would relax in her own way.

Trish closed her eyes. The swelling notes from the speakers haunted her
ears, interrupted by the crackle of the fire. She acutely felt the ropes
against her skin holding her, caressing her. The ache in her jaws, the
faint smell of her shampoo. Her senses exploded. She faintly shook her
head  and opened her eyes. She turned to look at Ash to plead with her to
remove the gag. Ash was no longer buried in the sofa. She hadn't even
heard her leave. Straining her ears, Trish thought that she heard her in
the kitchen perhaps brewing another cup of coffee. She relaxed again and
waited quietly for her return.

A few minutes later, Ash ascended the short flight of steps into the
living room. She gazed at the restrained woman on the coffee table. Her
eyes danced in the glow of the fire. Trish saw the candles in her hands
and her eyes riveted to them. Instinctively, she found herself pulling of
her bonds and had to calm herself. Control. She relaxed again, but her
helpless body wouldn't completely stop shivering. She tried to ask Ash,
but all that emerged from her filled mouth was unintelligible moans. Her
eyes followed the unlit candles as Ash placed them on the table just
beneath her vulnerable armpits. Ash smiled at her housemate and slowly and
deliberately stroked Trish's bare nipples. They hardened despite Trish's
efforts to quell her reaction. Trish caught her breath at the touch,
closed her eyes and moaned. Ash smiled in satisfaction.

Ash picked up the remote and settled back into the sofa. She sipped again
at her coffee and switched the CD to Bad English. Trish wasn't
particularly fond of the group but Ash only smiled when Trish shook her
head against the table and pulled in resignation at her ropes. The sounds
of John Waite filled the room as they waited. Ash gently leaned forward
and ran her fingers lightly up Trish's exposed side. Trish shuddered as
the butterflies again took flight in her stomach. She was ready.

When the track ended on the stereo, Ash switched the CD again to a more
classical disk. Trish didn't recognise it. Could have been Mozart. Trish
squirmed wondering when and what was going to happen to her. She felt
entirely helpless. She had given up her body, her trust, her control to
Ash. She felt her muscles relaxing from her toes to the top of her head.
She was so aware of herself. Free. Herself. She had lost herself
completely these last few weeks. She was finally finding herself again. It
felt good.

Ash was watching her nude housemate, concentrating on her face, her
telltale body movement. She would know when to begin. She always did. Like
a seer, she could just tell. It was almost as though they were one entity.
She didn't quite understand her attraction to Trish, why they were so
close. They'd been through so much together. They were almost sisters. She
would do anything for her friend and she knew the bound lady in front of
her would do nearly anything for her. In a sense they were one.

There. Trish was ready. She didn't know what was going to happen to her,
but she had a fairly good idea. Ash had watched the struggle on her
friends body and face, fighting the discomfort of the ropes, the
unorthodox role, yes, her humiliation. She watched the same fight every
time. She idly wondered if her friend would ever quite understand who she
was, accept herself. As it was she let it build until she was ready to
explode. But perhaps it enhanced her satisfaction letting it build over
the weeks.

Ash was familiar with the signs of acceptance. She saw her friend finally
relax, give up her control completely. Would not accept it back until
morning. Ready to move on. To free herself. Ash leaned forward whispering
to her housemate. She picked up the candle that was lying inside Trish's
right armpit and held it in front of Trish's face. Her eyes widened, but
she made no protest, not even a flinch of her eyes, as Ash struck the
match and the smell of sulphur permeated the room. She quietly watched as
Ash lit the candle and pursed her lips, blowing out the match. Ash rose to
her feet and wandered to the fireplace, tossing the match in carelessly.
Trish watched helplessly as her housemate kicked off her moccasins and
padded barefoot over to her, kneeling on opposite side of the table. She
brushed her fingers lightly over Trish's bare nipple and gently kissed it.
Trish felt her breasts tingle and she moaned through her ball gag. She
allowed herself to pull at her ankle restraints once and then settled
down, her eyes glued to the tiny flame wavering in Ash's left hand.

Ash's mind wandered. A witches ritual. The initiate, searching for
herself. Bound, a human sacrifice but not quite. Ash, the ritual guide
about to lead the way on a journey she had never undertaken. Trish,
waiting calmly for her guidance. A age old ritual passed down from ancient
times. Ash was aware of the herself as well, her role, her body her mind.
The ambiance she had created for her friend. Of course, she was not a
witch, but upon reflection it was a type of ritual. They were finding
themselves in their own way.

Ash slowly moved the candle. Trish's eyes followed the waxen stick as it
centred over her right breast. She now knew what was to follow. Her mind
whirled as she fought for control.  The trick was to accept it, not to
fight it. Fighting herself didn't work. Never had.

In slow motion, Trish watched as the candle ever so slowly began to dip
forward. A drop of molten wax dripped from the head of the candle. It
travelled as though it was dropped through a strobe. Time slowed. Trish
watched as the drop struck her vulnerable nipple, coated it and almost
instantly solidified. It seemed like hours, but in reality was a split
second, the pain exploded in her breast. The tender, erect nipple throbbed
in the heat. Trish knew in her mind that it would not damage her, but the
instantaneous heat in such a tender spot was enough to make her scream
through her gag. She unconsciously pulled at her ropes, trying in vain to
reach her sensitive breasts, to cover them, to cup them, to ease the
torment. But finally when the pain abated from her nipple, Trish opened
her eyes, which she couldn't remember scrunching tight, and weakly smiled
at her roommate. She could feel the hardened wax tightening on her bare
nipple. It felt odd, but not in a bad way.

Trish watched as Ash set the candle on the table and slowly pulled off her
top. Her breasts were heaving, not quite as much as her bound housemate's,
but her breath came hard and ragged. She didn't quite know why but it was
right for her. She reached forward and felt the hardened wax on her
roommates nipple. Trish gasped at the touch to her super-sensitive flesh
and Ash wondered very briefly what it felt like to be so helpless and not
be able to get away from the wax. She raised her finger to her own tight
nipples knowing that Trish was watching, but not caring. They knew each
other well enough. She sighed as her finger brushed lightly at her erect
nipples. She picked up the candle again, smiling at Trish. Trish's eyes
immediately focused back on the flame being moved to her left breast.

Again, the slow motion of the drop of molten wax. Trish watched as the
drop unerringly dropped, coating her hardened nipple, imprisoning it in
sweet agony. She felt the table as her head arched into the unyielding
surface, the ropes as they dug cruelly into her wrists and ankles as she
tried in vain to reach her breasts. Her gasp of air trying to fill lungs
that didn't want to function. The obstruction holding her mouth open,
muffling her voice as she released herself as her lungs caught up with her
sensations. Opening her eyes in time to see Ash stroke her own bare
nipples. Stirrings. Butterflies. Her tears trickling down her face, rivers
of her release. Ash reached forward and lightly brushed the tears from
Trish's cheeks, smiling at her kindly.

Ash whispered lightly in Trish's ear, barely loud enough to be heard over
her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. "More?"

Trish felt the familiar feelings welling up in her. The knowledge of her
helplessness, her vulnerability. She fought herself and slowly nodded.
Immediately, Ash tipped another two drops onto Trish's right breast, and a
single one coated her left. Ash wondered again how it would feel.

Trish watched the two drops cover the wax on her right nipple, felt the
searing heat. She only felt the left, as her eyes closed and her
endorphins coursed through her veins. She pain slipped into the background
of her mind, light exploded behind her closed eyes. She could feel her
breasts heaving, her body straining, but she was curiously detached. Her
face relaxed, followed by all her body muscles. She could feel Ash
continuing to drop the wax onto her body, on the bare portions of her
breasts, her stomach, her thighs. But the sensations further buoyed her.
She felt as though she was released from her bound body, floating. She
could nearly see the clouds as she rushed along above them as if she was
at the window of a jet. She could sense the clouds opening, open water
beneath rushing by. She could see the whitecaps as the wind pressed the
water onwards forever. And then she was returning. She felt the pull of
her consciousness as her body called her back. Back to herself. The warm
room, the table, the restraints, Ash.

She opened her eyes. She slowly moved her jaw, the gag had been removed.

Ash leaned over close, her face dancing by the firelight. "Was it nice?"
she whispered.

"Mhmmmm," Trish closed her eyes again, pulling on her wrists idly.

Ash envied her friend. She had no idea where she went during these
sessions but afterwards she was a different person. Ash could almost see
the tension flowing out of her bound friend, her muscles unknotting, her
tears, her sighs. Trish may have been bound securely to the table, but she
was the most free person in the world right now. Ash smiled, leaned
forward and lightly kissed Trish's lips. She allowed her fingers to wander
down Trish's throat, lightly brushing her exposed breasts, circling the
bare patches of skin. She felt the hard shell coating Trish's nipples,
could make out the form of the underlying flesh. She smiled as Trish
gasped at the touches.

She ran figure eights slowly down her friend's ribs and stomach,
illiciting delicious squirms and moans. She ran her fingers lightly
through the sparse pubic hair of her bound roommate, causing more moans.

Not sure what Trish wanted, not sure what she wanted, Ash again brought
her mouth to Trish's ear. "Continue?" in a breathy voice. Trish simply
smiled in response. It wasn't as though they had never done this before.
It seemed almost a natural expression of their friendship, a simple
sharing of shared frustrations. Ash again kissed Trish's lips, feeling a
soft response and a shiver pass through her restrained body.

She wandered her fingers through the fine hair stroking lightly along the
outside of the lips. Trish strained against the ropes holding her, trying
to get more contact, squirming. A low moan escaped her lips. Ash teased
her for a few moments before allowing her index finger enter between
Trish's lips. The wetness there surprised even Ash. Trish had never been
this responsive to her contact before. She was getting more used to Ash
and making love to a woman. Neither woman really thought of herself as
homosexual. Nevertheless, it seemed appropriate.

Trish felt the intimate contact of Ash's fingers from a more distant
place. She was trying to concentrate on Ash's lips as they tenderly
kissed. She tried to concentrate as Ash's finger wandered the length of
her body, caressing, feeling. She tried to feel her ropes, the table. Each
sensation pushed her further and further back towards the clouds and the
water. She could feel Ash's finger slowly enter her, and she automatically
moaned and pressed towards the violation. She gently rocked herself to the
rhythm of Ash's probing fingers. She had never quite felt so free, so
alive. So out of control. She pressed herself as best she could to help
Ash. Ash lightly kissed her coated nipples.

Trish arched against her ropes as Ash lightly touched her clitoris and
withdrew. Trish moaned in frustration and finally opened her eyes, her
rushing clouds slowly fading. She watched as Ash slowly licked her finger
and brushed her own bare breasts, leaned forwards and brushed her own
exposed nipples against Trish's coated ones. The breast contact was
electric. Trish moaned once again straining against her captivity.

Ash allowed her fingers to wander back to Trish's lips, gently parting
them and slowly, maddeningly slowly, began to circle her clitoris. Trish
rocked as best as she could with the motion of Ash's finger. The clouds
immediately began to rush by. The water crashing below them. Trish began
falling towards the water in her mind, faster and faster, images of
herself, bound, nude, helpless, vulnerable. Endorphins rushed through her
mind. Even muscle in her body went rigid, pulling against her bonds,
pulsing. Her mind exploded in light, a rush of sound that she recognised
as her own voice crying out her pleasure, her pain, her climax. After an
eternity, she felt her muscles relax and she slumped back onto her
imprisoning table.

Ash smiled at her friend, they both were exhausted. Ash would satisfy
herself later, in private. She padded out of the room, leaving Trish to
relax further and remember her sensations. After she returned, drink in
hand, she found Trish rhythmically breathing, her head turned against the
hard table, her hair fanned out, eyes closed. Ash settled into the sofa
and switched the CD to some soft classical that she didn't even recognise.
She watched over her housemate as she slept. Ash leaned her head back and
listened to the fire and the swelling music, watched Trish's wax covered
breasts rise and fall with her steady breathing.

Finally, Ash rose to her feet and knelt at Trish's bound ankles. She
carefully unlashed her ankles, careful not to wake her. Her waist ropes
were removed, and then her wrists. Ash settled back into the sofa with her
schnapps and waited patiently. Soon enough, the pins and needles awakened
Trish and she opened her eyes to smile at Ash. Ash leaned her glass to
Trish's mouth, and she sipped the liqueur. But as she moved her arms from
above her head, she cried out as the pins and needles intensified. Tears
welled in her eyes and she cried softly as Ash gathered her up, rubbing
her wrists carefully until the pain abated.

After a time, Ash leaned forward and gently pulled Trish's hands behind
her back. She attached two lined leather cuffs to her wrists. They both
knew Trish wasn't ready to gain back her control. She simply smiled up at
Ash as though to thank her for understanding. A quick padlock through the
hasps rendered Trish helpless and vulnerable again. Ash ran her hands
gently down Trish's body tickling her ribs and lingering on her breasts.
Trish gasped at the sensations and felt the butterflies take flight again.

Ash slowly rose to her feet, motioning for Trish to rise as well. Ash
guided Trish up the stairs to her bedroom. They entered Trish's bedroom,
with her four poster bed. Ash bid Trish to wait quietly by the foot of the
bed. Trish swayed and wished for the bed, she was exhausted from the
nights events. She looked down at herself and felt a bit of a flush. Her
hands pinioned behind her. Nude. Her front spotted with wax. Her body
trembling. She felt the cold of the floor beneath her feet as she waited
for Ash to return from the adjoining room. She knew that Ash was only
placing the key to her cuffs in the bathroom so that she could free
herself in the morning. A tear again formed in her eyes. Questions of
herself, and her sexuality wandered through her head as she stood there.
She shivered as she recalled her night in ropes, nude, with her roommate.
She felt abnormal, it suddenly felt wrong. Why did she need it? The
feminine contact? The dominance, the submission, the restraint? The trust,
the friendship? Why did she feel so good, so free? She felt the tear
escape her eyelid and trickle down her face. Would she ever accept
herself? What she liked?

She only realised that Ash had returned when she felt Ash's gentle touch
wiping away the tear. She smiled at Trish.

"It's OK. It's you. It's right for you. There is no normal."

Ash always had understood. Trish shook her head as Ash guided her beneath
the comforter. She felt the cool sheets on her bare skin, and watched as
Ash removed her jeans and panties. God, she was beautiful.

Ash slipped into the bed behind Trish, wrapping her arms around her,
holding her. Felt their bodies together, skin against skin. Trish sighed
before she slipped into a sleep filled with clouds, water, and dimly felt
heat. Her last thought was that she would never be normal. She fell asleep
smiling.

***

Trish woke from her sleep, fully refreshed. She hadn't slept this well in
months. She squirmed a bit in Ash's arms until her housemate woke enough
to allow her to work herself to the edge of the bed. Her bare feet dangled
to meet with the freezing floor. She tried to scratch her nose and
realised quickly that she had slept in the cuffs. She smiled at the
thought and rose to pad into the bathroom. Her hair was a mess, and she
had blue wax all over her breasts. She reached down and struggled with the
key off the top of the toilet. Finally the padlock sprang free and she
could scratch her nose. It felt wonderful to be free again.

She showered slowly and long. Feeling the caress of the warm water flowing
over her body. She idly hoped that Ash was all right. From what she
remembered it had been a long session and she still wasn't sure what Ash
thought about it all. As she quietly slipped into her room to dress, she
found Ash sprawled out on her bed one bare breast partially exposed by the
sheets. She smiled and dressed as quietly as she could. Ash mumbled
something incoherent just as she left the room, closing the door on the
light. As the door closed, and with no one to hear, Ash repeated her
mumbling a little clearer, "I think I'm falling in love again ..."

Trish padded down the stairs, smiling at the pile of her clothing from the
night before at the front door. Ash hadn't moved them. She leaned down and
carefully folded them, leaving them on the stairs to put away at night
when she returned home.

As she stepped out into the crystal clear day, she watched her breath
plume away from her as she took the crisp air into her lungs. She felt
invigorated, free, released, stress free. She hadn't felt like this in so
long. She fairly danced to the car, rubbing her hands together as she let
it warm up. She turned on the stereo and was singing to Aerosmith when she
realised that it had been months since she had sung. Her voice echoed in
the car as she pulled out of her driveway and down her street. She was
even in tune. She could feel it, even traffic would be light today.

She slammed on her brakes as old Mr. Johnson slid down his driveway like a
maniac, not watching as usual. He finally turned to look, as she smiled,
shook her head, and waved at him. She would be all right. Crazy, but all
right.