textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/tina-02.txt

			  TINA, Part 2


     This was an incredible situation.  Here I was tied to a tree
in my backyard.  That wasn't all that unusual, but it was my
mother who had tied me.  Not only had she tied me, but she had
used special leather cuffs.  Now I might be naive, but even I
had to know she hadn't run down to the corner store and bought
them while I'd been changing into leotards and tights.  And that
was also something: she told me what to wear.  And she had tied up
my boobs.

     After my mother left me in my ropes, I was just too confused
to experience anything for several minutes.  And then the ropes on
my boobs began to take effect.  Whenever I shifted in my ropes, the
ropes on my boobs sawed my skin.  This had the effect of pulling on
my boobs and very quickly I began to experience a
warm feeling, a wet feeling between my legs.  I had never had that
feeling before, at least not quite in this way.

     I looked up at the leather cuffs on my wrists.  Clearly, these
were well used.  It was no use ignoring it: my parents used
these.  But who was tied?  And then I remembered the hooks on my
parents' bed.  I was about to phrase a question in my mind when my
first ever orgasm over took me.  It was beyond belief.  Since then,
I've had many orgasms in bondage, but I can truthfully say this was
very powerful.  As I withered in my ropes, the waves of pleasure
continued to wash over me.  Bells clanged, whistles blew, and then
I blacked out.  When I came to, I was hanging limply.

     I didn't know what had happened but I reasoned that I had
crossed over to a new level of experience.  After several
minutes, I got both my feet under me and shifted in my ropes.
Right away, I felt the warm feeling building again between my legs,
so I twisted some more.  At last I made the connection:
the ropes on my boobs were the trigger.  I decided to test my
conclusion and, boom, another orgasm.  This wasn't quite as
intense, but it was extremely pleasurable, all the same.

     It took me longer to recover this time.  But when I did, I was
a far wiser young woman.  I finally knew what it was about
being tied up that drew me to it.

     Obviously, being tied up was no longer to be viewed as a
childhood game or something you did just for want of something
else to do.  A question then popped into my mind: which of my
friends knew or suspected?  Of all of them, I thought Natasha
was probably the most likely to know.  Which then got me to
thinking about her little game.  She was beaten regularly.  Did
she get her kicks from being beaten the way I did from being
tied up?  Obviously, I had to pursue that question.

     It was at this point that my mother returned.

     "Enjoying yourself?" she said archly.

     I only grinned.  "Sure am.  I learned a lot too."

     My mother raised a questioning eyebrow so I continued.  "These
cuffs, for instance.  They're not new."

     She nodded.  "Go on."

     "And these ropes across my breasts.  They were very, shall we
say, strategically placed."

     She grinned broadly, "Oh, you had a cum."

     Perplexed, I said, "A what?"

     "A cum, an orgasm.  You had a sexual completion.  How was it
Tina?"

     I blushed, and then when she snorted her impatience, I said,
"It was, er, great."

     For a long moment, my mother just stood there and smiled at
me.  Then she said, "Well, enjoy yourself.  I'll be back in an
hour."

     The next day, when my friends returned, they were all agog
trying tell me all they had done.  Of course I was excited for
them, but there was something different.  I too had had an
experience, but I chose not to tell them, at least not then.
Besides, mine would keep and they were simply being the good
friends they always had been.  But out of the corner of my eye,
I noticed Natasha eyeing me speculatively.  When our eyes locked,
I read the question and nodded.  She smiled.

     Almost a week went by before mom and I had a chance to sit and
talk.

     "Tina," she began, "you learned a lot last week.  And I won't
insult you by treating you childishly.  Your father and I
engage in what is called love bondage."

     I interrupted, "What's bondage?"

     She blinked, and then chuckled, "That, my darling daughter, is
what is done when you're tied up.  It's called bondage."

     "I never heard of it," I said.  "Is it used in polite
company?"

     Mother laughed, "Well, yes, but most people don't understand
it.  Anyhow, your father and I take turns tieing each other,
although recently, I've been the one tied more often than not."

     "Do you use it when you make love?" I asked.

     She nodded, "Sometimes, but there are many times when I'm tied
but there is no sex."

     "Why are you telling me this?"

     "Well, Tina, I mentioned to your father about finding you
pegged out in the backyard.  We wondered if there had been
something we had done, you know, left the bedroom door open or
something like that.  But then we concluded you learned by
yourself."

     "So why admit your involvement?" I asked.

     "Good question.  The answer is that now that you are aware, we
want to pass along to you what it took us years to learn.  Of
course, you must understand that it'll be just you and me; and,
while you might get a cum occasionally, it won't be induced by
me.  In other words, there will be no incest.  Okay?"

     I nodded, "Well, yes, I guess so, but what does it all mean?"

     She smiled, "Who knows?  Who cares?  You already knew you
enjoyed bondage.  What you experienced last week probably did
not make you want to stop it.  So why ask questions?"

     Worriedly, I hastened to say, "Mom, I'm real glad you and
daddy decided to share with me.  It's just that I do like it but I
want to know why I like it and the others don't."

     "How do you know the others don't?" she asked.

     Stumped for a moment, I stammered, "Well, I guess I just sort
of thought because they tie me all the time......"

     "Oh, Tina," my mother began, "being tied is only half of
bondage; someone has to do the tieing.  Can't you see that
someone who cares enough to tie someone who enjoys being tied is
someone who might enjoy the action also?"

     What she said made sense, but I pushed on, "But aren't there
people who like to tie up women and the women don't want to be
tied?"

     She nodded, "Sure there are, just as there are women who are
shrews, husbands and wives who cheat, and all sort of other
unpleasant things.  Just because some people abuse a thing, doesn't
make the thing itself bad."

     So I asked, "Do you enjoy being tied Mother?"
     
     She blinked, then blushed and nodded, "Very much.  I had some
of the same experiences you have had, but it was your father
who introduced me to love bondage.  I thrive on it.  I accept
those who think it is deviant behavior but I will not give it up."

     We sat for several moments, then mom asked, "You want to be
tied up?"

     "Right now?" I asked, "but it's raining."

     Mom laughed, "You don't always have to be tied outside.  Go on
up to your room and I'll be there in a moment."

     So I went to my room.  In a jiffy, mom came in with several
pieces of rope and some other things I couldn't make out.

     "Just lay on your bed, face up," she said, and when I had done
so, she sat beside me, took my right wrist and began to wrap
rope around it.  After about four turns, she tied it, leaving a
long tail.  She did the same to my left wrist.  Then, moving to
the foot of the bed, she did the same with each of my ankles.  She
then quickly secured my ankles and wrists to the four
corners of my bed.

     I was familiar with this tie, so I wasn't alarmed about not
being able to handle it.

     "How's that?" mother asked, stepping back and admiring her
work.

     "Well," I said, "it's just like being pegged out in the
backyard, except it's softer."

     She frowned as I said that, and then said, "You're right.
Well, I can't stretch you on this bed as it's too small.  Here,
let's untie you and then you can turn over."

     When she did, and I had turned over, she brought my hands
behind my back and tied them together.  She then tied my feet
together and pulled them up and back against my buttocks where
she used another rope to tie my feet to my wrists.

     "And what do you think of that?" she asked.

     This was definetly an altogether different experience.  My
body was secured and it was pulling against itself.  Yet, even as
I considered, I began to experience that wet feeling between my
legs.

     "It's definetly different," I managed to say with some strain. 
"I've never been in anything like this before."

     "It's called a hog-tie, Tina," my mother said.  There was
silence for a couple minutes as I endeavored to accustom myself to
this new bondage.  "Too much?" mother asked with some concern.

     "Nooo, I can handle it," I said.  Then I asked, "Are you tied
this way?"

     She chuckled, "It's one of my favorites, although I usually am
almost all nude and I almost always wear a crotch rope."

     "Almost nude?" I asked.

     "Yeah," she replied, somewhat reluctantly, as if she had said
more than she had wanted to say.

     I interrupted, "I'm sorry mom.  Don't answer.  It's none of my
business anyway."

     "No, no problem.  What I meant to say I frequently wear boots
and gloves when I'm tied."

     "And nothing else?" I giggled.

     Mom swatted my behind, saying, "Yes, smarty pants, nothing
else.  At least nothing else that would cover."

     This confused me, but the feeling in my crotch was building
and I decided to concentrate on that.

     I had a cum.

     It was an incredible experience.  Contrary to the first time,
this time I couldn't move at all.  All I could do was pant and say
'ngh,' 'ngh,' 'ngh.'

     After I came back to earth, mom asked, "Was it good?"  I
smiled lazily and nodded, so she continued, "Now you just stay
there for a while and let yourself feel some really tight
bondage."   

     Well, I'm here to tell you I really did feel that hog-tie.  I
kept experiencing a need to straighten out my legs, but, of course,
I couldn't do so.  I didn't have any more cums but I enjoyed my
feeling of helplessness.

     Mom returned eventually (an hour later, I learned) and asked
if I wanted to be untied.

     "No, not just yet.  I like this," I replied.

     "Oh you do, do you?  Well," continued my mother, "I didn't
come to release you from bondage, just to change your position."

     I brightened, "Well, you have more experience than I.  I'll
put myself in your hands."  I was untied but the ropes were not
removed from my wrists or ankles; and, after a few minutes of
stretching, Mom led me to her room.  She opened the double folding
doors of her closet and immediately I noticed something I hadn't
noticed before: there were hooks in the upper corners and in the
lower corners.

     Mom put four large books on the floor in the doorway of the
closet, mid-way between the edges of the doorway.  She then had me
stand on the books.  She then pointed to the upper corners.  I
nodded and held up my arms.  She motioned for me to stand on my
tiptoes and to reach for the corners.  First one wrist, and then
the other, was secured tightly to the corners.  I had a little
trouble balancing, but I managed.  Then, kneeling, she ran the
ropes from my ankles through the hooks, after which she said,
"Brace yourself," and she jerked both ropes.  This pulled my legs
apart, off the books and threw all my weight on my wrists.

     I went "Oooof."  Mom looked up at me, but still she held the
ropes.  She managed to tie one rope to the other and there I was,
in my familiar "X" but hanging by my wrists.  This was a serious
undertaking.

     "This more interesting?" Mom asked in a teasing tone of voice.

     It was hard to talk at first, but I finally managed to utter,
"Yes, it is very interesting, but can it be fun too?"

     Mom laughed.  "That's my girl," she said.  "Yes, it is a real
strain at first, but when your mind can control your body and you
learn to hang limply, you'll find it can be fun too.  Take your
time.  Give your body over to it."

     I was dubious, but I decided to try to take Mom's advice.  I
just let my head fall on my chest and tried to blank my mind.  It
was perhaps several minutes later when I came out of my trance to
realize my mother was sitting on her vanity bench, with a big grin,
smoking a cigarette!  The odd thing about this was that my mother
didn't smoke.  At least, I didn't think she did, because I had
never seen her with a cigarette.

     I smiled, and said, "You're right.  This can be really good.
But since when did you start to smoke?"

     "Oh, I do occasionally, on special occasions, like now.  And
don't tell me you don't," she said.

     I smiled.  "Well, yes I do, but it was never my intent to hide
it from you.  I just thought that since neither you nor dad
smoked, that I shouldn't around the house."  I stayed tied that way
for a half hour before my mother let me down.
  end Tina2