Ties That Bind Ch. 1 – An Erotic Series

Note from Author:
This short story contains sexually explicit content that is not appropriate for minors. All sexual encounters in this story are consensual between adults. All scenes of power exchange and kink elements are to be assumed as pre-negotiated between partners that follow R.A.C.K: risk-aware, consensual kink! Scenes in this short story may include kink elements such as: rope bondage, objectification, voyeurism, power exchange, sensation play, and lite spanking/impact play. 

ties that bind us erotic story

Chapter One: Prelude

“Umph!” The sound escaped my lips before I could stop it as the car bounced over a pothole.

My Uber driver gives me a puzzled look in the rearview mirror, “Ma’am?”

“Oh…ah…nothing. Sorry!” I mutter, cursing myself for not controlling my reactions better. Control is supposed to be my strong suit and now, here I am, losing it in the back of an Uber.

The driver turned his attention back to the road and I sigh in relief, settling back into the seat. The cause of my accidental outburst is shifting uncomfortably in my ass again. With great effort, I manage to avoid making any sounds as I try in vain to lessen the pressure exerted by the enormous butt plug.  

This plug is the largest that I have ever been able to accommodate and I am weirdly proud of it. It represents weeks of hard work, slowly building up my tolerance from silicone to the medical grade stainless steel monster that currently resides within me. The “T” shape was advertised as the more comfortable fit, but the way it jostled and moved every time I sit or lean on anything leaves some lingering questions as to the accuracy of that claim. I have finally been able to manage wearing it all day, making my work day infinitely more difficult and remarkably more enjoyable.  I shift again, the pressure overwhelming me. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the sensation. Several times in the past week I have found myself close to orgasm simply from the plug and it has been utterly maddening to have to shut that down while at work.

Perhaps, in the few moments before I arrive, I might be able to indulge myself a little. After all, leaning back against the backseat, the Uber driver will probably think I am just resting my eyes.

The pressure is building, causing me to shiver as the motions of the vehicle transfer though the seat, up the metal plug and into me. My toes curl as I shift my hips forward, anxious to find that sweet spot. I bite my lip as I rock back and forth, the motion shifting my plug and causing the heat to build in my core. The wetness building as the familiar ache begins to rise. Before I can reach the release I so desperately crave, I feel the car slow to a stop.

Snapping my eyes open I look up, the Uber driver is staring at me through the rearview mirror, lust in his eyes. I try to think of other thoughts to distract me but the floodgates have opened and the fullness pressing into me refuses to be ignored. I maintain eye contact with him as I slowly rock my hips again, the pressure finally peaking. I know I could climax with just one or two tweaks of my nipple. The pleasure from the pressure in my ass, combined with the days of edging but not allowing my own release and the taboo nature of being watched by a stranger is intoxicating.

I almost give in. I almost ruin it all before I even begin.

But the gold rimmed invite that brought me out here in this Uber, out to the middle of nowhere, falls out of my hand.

The invite that has very, very specific instructions on it.

In order to be considered a worthy choice for an Offering, I have to show them that I have control. To even be invited to be evaluated has taken me years.

With a deep breath, I break eye contact and focus on my goal.

With obedience comes the opportunity for an experience beyond my wildest dreams and fantasies. A quick fuck in an Uber wouldn’t even come close.

I step out into the cold night air and look at my destination. My heels click on the driveway as I pass under the thick branches of the old trees over my head. I am acutely aware of how effectively the sounds of the city were muffled as I traveled deeper into the property. The Victorian house comes slowly into view as I round the last curve of the driveway. Unlike the wild, unkempt fence of trees guarding the borders of the place, the house was a monument to meticulous care and attention to detail.

The grass is neatly trimmed and dominates the landscaping, broken only by a gazebo, fountain and the paths leading towards them.

I take another deep breath and pull the masquerade mask out of my clutch and put it on, nervously approaching the steps that lead to the front door.  

The front door is maroon with a gold handle.

It’s a strange detail to focus on, but I shiver in the dark and stare at it, transfixed and frozen in indecision.

On one hand, it’s an ordinary door. People go through doors a hundred times a day. Doors just like this one. There’s nothing to fear from an ordinary door.

Yet, behind this door is something else. 

Something out of the ordinary. 

Something forbidden–maybe even taboo. 

Something I have yearned for and sought for months. 

Something I have trained for and dreamed of since the moment Sir told me it existed.

The anticipation sensation runs over my body like an electric current, buzzing and cresting in little waves in unexpected places. My mind screams at me to use caution and think things through but that little voice–that hedonistic little devil that lives in all of us, shouts me down.

“Go through the door and live a little.”

I take a deep breath and straighten my mask.

The little devil is right.

It’s time to live.

I raise my hand and knock confidently on the ordinary door, as ready as I’ll ever be for something extraordinary. As the door opens, I step across the threshold, the buzzing on my skin rising to a crescendo.

***

The door attendant doesn’t say a word and his silence is unnerving. He takes my invitation and scans it before gesturing to the curtained off alcove behind him labeled Offerings.

I nod and he shrugs, stamping my invite as if it were a passport and he looks at the border guard before turning and beckoning me to follow him.

Without a word, he leads me through the darkened hallway and into a waiting room full of other women clad similarly in masks and hoods. I take an empty seat and look up to smile at my escort but he is already gone, disappearing back down the hallway with the brisk step of efficiency. 

The temperature of the room is cold and I shiver in my sheer dress. 

My instructions were very clear: black lace, sheer robe, red heels, butt plug, mask. Eager to please, I followed them to a tee–determined that no matter what, I would be chosen. 

The door opens and a small woman clad head to toe in black latex comes out, her cat-eye glasses giving her face a severe look. A rubber-clad Headmistress.

“You, you, you, and you!” she barks out orders and the women she points at immediately rise and line up. As she moves through the room, my heart starts to beat wildly and I pray to whomever might be listening that she sees me and how much I want this. How much I need this.

“My my, aren’t you the eager one?” She looks at me with speculation and a touch of derision in her eyes. “Very well, you too. Get up.”

The euphoria fills me as I rise, trembling and go to stand with the other woman. We are the Chosen Ones. With any luck, we will be the Offering for this evening’s entertainment.

Two more are chosen before she abruptly turns towards the door, motioning us to line up and follow her. “You will all be known by a number tonight and you will answer it.” She counted us off and I smiled as she pointed at me. 

Five. My new name is Five.   

Masked little ducklings, we follow our kinky mama duck obediently into the dark corridor, eager for the next step. 

***

Another door, this one a deep crimson red, greets us at the end of the corridor. Without turning to look at us, our leader snaps her fingers and we all instinctively shrink up against the wall.

“One at a time, you will enter. If you are found worthy, you will be prepared and presented. If you are not….” her voice trails off, as if the alternative was too terrible to even say outside.

Nerves race like fire along my skin, the vibrant electricity of anticipation making my heart pound. 

Too soon, she points at me again and I make my way slowly down the hallway and through the door, cringing as it slams shut behind me–leaving me in pitch darkness.

The games begin now.

I can’t wait.

***
A single candle is lit and the flickering light makes shadows dance across the walls. I can’t see much but I can sense that at least one person is in the room with me.

“Stand where you are and put your hands on your head and your legs wide apart, Five.”

A gruff voice from somewhere in the room barks orders at me and I comply immediately, eager to show them how badly I want this.

“Tell me, Five. Are you already trained or do you require… breaking in?” The voice is closer now. I shiver again.

“I am trained in some arts, Sir, but am ready to learn more.” 

“Show me how you present yourself to your betters, Five.”

I remember my training and drop to my knees, ignoring the slight pain as I hit the cold concrete floor. Lowering my head, I lay my hands on my lap, palms open. I show him that I am ready to submit.

I feel the air move around me and can sense him circling me, the predator assessing his prey. 

“Arch your back more and push out your tits,” he growled softly, the absolute authority like steel in his voice. “Point your toes and put your feet together so you can sit on them.” 

I move quickly to comply with his orders and I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. “You move fast, Five. So eager to be objectified as an Offering, are you?”

The danger in his voice makes me tremble further with desire. I have longed to be an Offering for years and now that it is finally within my grasp, I can barely contain myself.

With a deep breath, I whisper out a meek, “If it pleases you, sir,” and continue to crouch in my submissive posture, the pleasurable pressure of the butt plug challenging me to keep quiet.

“Do you understand what will be asked of you, if you are chosen as an Offering, Five?” His breath on my neck makes me shiver again, my arousal growing more potent.

“You will become ours to use as we see fit. You will give up your free will and our pleasure will be your requirement. Your pleasure is ours to give or not, but only when we command. Do you understand what you are giving, Five? Nothing is off limits.”

“Yes sir. I am giving my total submission as an Offering. I do so in full awareness of what it means and I consent.” My breath came in pants as I felt the intensity of the room rise up again and the cold harsh reality of what I am saying, what I am agreeing to begins to sink in.

Being an Offering is not casual play. My Sir, the one who had trained me, spoke of these meetings often. The best of the best are allowed to compete to be an Offering, to be allowed to be a plaything for The Collective, the most powerful players in the world. In return for being an Offering and doing well, a submissive might gain material wealth, social standing, and membership in a very elite club. It was our strange little community’s version of the submissive Olympics and I was determined to not only compete, but to be the best.

“Very well, Five. You interest me enough to present you as one of our Offerings this evening. You will rise and follow the lights into the next room. When you find the bed, you will lay upon it and wait. You will pull your shades on your mask so you cannot see. I expect you to be a Good Girl, Five.”

My heart explodes in a fit of euphoria. I did it! I made it!

My whole body felt both alive and numb as I rose and made my way through the dimly lit room to the door that was lit with a red glow stick. Pushing open the door, I saw a beautiful four-poster bed with plush pillows and silken sheets.

It is time to be an Offering. 

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