the prodigy

Gallery

Like a Brisket, Part Eight

Penthouse came back with the riding crop. I had never been hit with it before and jumped a bit in the hogtie when he thwacked it right against my back near my shoulder blade.

“Ow, sheesh,” I muttered as he rubbed where he had hit.

“See,” Penthouse explained in the little official demonstration tone he seemed to put on whenever he just wanted to jerk me around. Sure, he checked in and asked permission like a champ, but he wasn’t above being a little cheeky. “The problem with a hogtie is that even though she can’t move, your access is kind of limited." 

He punctuated his little lecture with a few more hits to my back.

"But, see, you’ve got the back just fine,” he continued as he kept whacking me with the crop. 

I groaned and buried my face in the carpet. But, I liked the sting and I’ve never been opposed to a little condescension.

Penthouse moved down to my legs. “And, you can get the legs, too. This all right, Ivy?”

“Just fine,” I muttered into the rug just as The Prodigy got herself free. My hands had started to turn red from the cinched rope around my wrists and so I was let out as well to swallow down the rest of my cocktail after that ordeal.

“Go check in the bathroom, see if I left any marks,” Penthouse said with a smirk. “They’re all probably under your dress. I’d like to know.”

For the record and for all my whining, there were none.

Gallery

Like a Brisket, Part Seven

Penthouse had put The Prodigy into one of these sorts of harnesses and she asserted that she wanted to try to get out of it herself. Unlike mine, which was apparently more for function, The Prodigy’s ropework was really more for aesthetic and could, with some working, but wriggled out of.

I, on the other hand, only got out when someone finally let me out when I had to go to the bathroom. When I returned, The Prodigy was still trying to squirm her way out and Penthouse had shown Craftsmate how to use the rope to make cuffs that cinched tighter when the person inside pulled on them.

A little while later, I wound up inside of them with my arms behind my back as we cheered on The Prodigy as she worked the loops down her arms.

“Now, see, you can make her do this,” Penthouse grabbed the extra rope on the end of my cuffs and pulled my arms up so I bent forward. I kicked back at him playfully. “Or, if you got her on the ground, you could hogtie her pretty easily.”

I guess I don’t have to explain to you all how I wound up a little bit later.

The thing about hogties with that tie is that if you struggle even a little bit, your wrists get tighter. And, so, I was stuck that way, trying to get comfortable on the rug while The Prodigy crossed an hour of being stuck trying to get out of the harness and Penthouse went to go get his riding crop.

Gallery

Like a Brisket, Part Six

We arrived back to the apartment, let Craftsmate out and sat down with a few drinks to get to know each other. It was a little awkward at first, but eventually we settled into a groove of telling each other how we’d figured out we were kinky.

I was about halfway through my story when Penthouse got up from the couch and walked over to the table. He picked up one of the crocheted lengths of rope and started unwinding it without introduction.

I cocked a brow. “What are you doing?”

“I’m tying you up,” he replied nonchalantly, moving back to the couch with the rope.

I laughed, “oh. Okay.” I set my drink down. “Good to know.”

I continued trying to tell my story as Penthouse was tying me up, but by the time we got to The Prodigy, all hope of normal conversation had sort of vanished. Instead, Penthouse was just talking through the harness he was putting me in that, unlike the knot he had tied before, was basically impossible to get out of. And, by pulling on this somewhat awkwardly applied rope between my breasts, Penthouse could essentially drag me around the room with ease. It was a pretty interesting introduction to being tied up with rope, but I had to admit the harness was sort of pretty and I was impressed that no amount of wriggling could get this thing loose.

He tied the excess rope off to the leg of the couch, limiting my range of motion to about two feet in any direction. While I tried to persuade Craftsmate to itch the tip of my nose, Penthouse offered to show The Prodigy a different kind of harness. 

Like a Brisket, Part Five

Standard

So, once I had gotten free, the fourth and final member of our minimunch arrived. For reasons that will be later revealed, I’m going to call her The Prodigy. She had not been feeling well and had considered not even coming and, while the atmosphere with Craftsmate and Penthouse was pretty chill, I was glad she had decided to join our group. The gender balance and the presence of someone who did not read my tumblr was nice.

We introduced ourselves and small-talked a bit until the subject of me having broken out of Penthouse’s robe’s belt came up. I said I thought I had learned the knot from breaking out of it and proceeded to demonstrate on Penthouse. While I hadn’t wanted to bite my way out, he had no shame in leaning down and using is teeth to get out of there in two seconds.

We all decided we wanted to check out the nearby farmer’s market and head to the liquor store. I’m not totally sure why it happened, but Penthouse wound up tying Craftsmate’s wrists the way he had just tied mine and I had tied his. And, so, we wound up walking through the farmer’s market with Craftsmate’s wrists tied in front of him, laughing as he struggled to get his wallet out.

“So,” Penthouse asked me when The Prodigy and Craftsmate were out of earshot, “is this going to wind up on your tumblr? Be one of those big eight-posters or something?”

I chuckled and shook my head, “shut up.”

At the liquor store, Craftsmate decided to be silly and ask two salespeople for these ridiculous foreign bitters with his hands still tied in front with the robe belt. Finally, the second salesperson to help him out exclaimed, “is this some sort of a game?” To which Penthouse replied, “yes, and I’m winning.”

Strangely, in comparison to the incident at the sewing supplies store, I wasn’t embarrassed at all. I suppose it was just how silly and innocuous it all was.

So, if any of you saw a couple of giggling kids with a friend with his hands tied in front at your neighborhood farmer’s market or liquor store, now you know what’s up.