Student of Submission Pt. 02

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. It is intended for mature audiences only. Any similarities to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All players are over the age of eighteen unless otherwise stated. If you have a problem with any of the following: non-consensual bondage, female on female sexual encounters, or powerful men seducing women, please read no further!

-BBD

I never imagined we'd end up like this.

But as the ropes pressed into my skin and the low, insistent buzz of the vibrator thrummed between my legs, I couldn't think of anything else I wanted more.

We shifted, squirmed. Muffled noises filled the quiet.

"Don't worry, ladies," he had said just before the door closed. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to free you. In the meantime, you two enjoy yourselves."

Click.

The lock turned.

Gone.

We were alone.

I groaned into the gag, trying to form words through the cloth that pressed my tongue down and muffled every sound.

"Nnn'ph mmnfm nph hmrm! Pmmnphm!"

My girlfriend whimpered in response, her soft, breathless noise vibrating through her body into mine. Even though I couldn't see her, I could feel her, her tension, her shivers, her need. It echoed my own.

We were connected now by more than the ropes. Our bodies touched in small, electric ways, shoulders brushing, hips rocking, rope shifting slightly with each involuntary buck. We moaned into the gags, helpless against the relentless rhythm.

The vibrator pulsed steadily, mercilessly. I felt my orgasm build again. A third? Fourth? I'd lost count. Time had stopped existing when the door closed.

Lana cried out softly behind me. Her body trembled, thighs tightening against the rope.

I knew that sound. I knew it well.

I let myself go with her.

My hips twitched, and the rope rubbed just right. Sparks exploded in my belly, spreading out in wild, uncontrollable waves. I cried out through the gag, my head falling forward against her shoulder as we both came, shivering in tandem.

Then silence. A long, warm silence filled with our shared breath, our muffled gasps, the low buzz continuing, merciless and inevitable.

Somewhere in the dark, she leaned back into me. Her body was slick with sweat. So was mine.

I let my fingers brush hers behind our backs--trapped, bound, but not alone. Her pinky curled around mine.

I wanted to say something. That I loved her. That I'd never felt anything so intimate. That I was grateful. But the gag stole my words, and all that came out was a soft, aching hum.

She answered with her own.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Our bodies weren't done. Not even close.

This was going to be a long couple of hours.

And we were going to feel every second of it, together.

Time didn't pass in minutes. It passed in pulses.

Buzz.

Shudder.

Moan.

Repeat.

Lana was warm against my back, soft and trembling with each aftershock. I felt her breathing, shallow and quick. It mirrored mine, even though neither of us could speak. We were beyond words. All we had were the sounds we made and the rope that held us tight.

The room was quiet except for the low hum of the vibrators and the occasional creak of rope as we shifted, and our muffled moans. The gags kept us from calling each other's names, but I could feel her trying.

I whispered through the gag as best I could. "Mmmf."

She answered, her sound a broken sigh that nearly undid me. I'd never needed touch like I needed it now.

I shifted my fingers behind my back, reaching for her hand again. It took effort, our wrists were tied too close,

but I found her pinky, hooked mine around it.

She held on.

My body was still wired from the last orgasm, hypersensitive, coiled like a spring. The vibrator hadn't stopped. It was still there, insistent, wicked, sending slow waves of pleasure through me whether I wanted it or not. And the rope, oh, it rubbed in exactly the right way when I squirmed. Even trying to get comfortable was enough to bring me back to the edge.

But it was Lana that made me ache the most.

Not just the way her body tensed behind mine, or the little involuntary jerks she made when she was close. It was knowing her. Knowing she was tied like I was. Blind like I was. Bound, gagged, helpless... and trusting.

She trusted me to feel this with her.

I let my head rest against hers again. Listened to the tiny cries she made--high, breathless, beautiful. I tried to time my breathing with hers. Maybe if we came together again, it wouldn't feel so out of control.

But it was out of control. That was the point.

I jerked when the vibrator hit a new spot. The rope tugged. The pressure spiked. I moaned sharply into the gag.

Lana answered with a muffled gasp of her own.

We were close again. I could feel it. I knew her rhythms, and she knew mine.

Our hips twitched. Rope creaked. Our bodies rocked in tandem, blindly, breathlessly.

Then it hit, sharp and bright, crashing over me like a wave in the dark. I cried out, biting down on the cloth gag, arching helplessly into the rope as the orgasm tore through me.

Lana came a second later. I heard her sob through the gag, felt her body tremble violently against mine, and it only sent more pleasure ricocheting through me.

And then we were limp. Sinking into each other. Tied and slick and ruined.

For a long time, we didn't move. We just breathed.

Eventually, the vibrator began to feel too much. Too raw. I whimpered. She did too. We were both beyond overstimulated, but unable to escape it.

But in the middle of the helplessness... was peace.

The rope held me together. Her presence held me calm. And for the first time in months, my mind was quiet.

No anxiety. No thinking. Just the rise and fall of her chest behind me. The safety of our silence.

I never thought surrender could feel like love.

But it did.

And I wasn't alone.

I lost count of how many times we came.

It all blurred, into a dizzy spiral of pressure and relief, twitching bodies and muffled cries. The rope was part of us now. So was the pulsing between our legs.

We didn't need words.

We didn't even need sight.

All we needed was each other.

Lana shifted behind me, a tiny motion that sent a jolt up my spine. Her bound arms brushed mine again, skin damp, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach for me but couldn't. I curled my hand back blindly and found hers. Not just a pinky this time, more.

Fingers tangled. Weak, clumsy. But there.

Connected.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and something sweeter, feminine, raw, electric. The soft hum of the vibrators was our shared heartbeat now, a constant thrum that refused to let us rest. Our bodies were overworked, nerves frayed. But we weren't done. Not yet.

I leaned my head to the side until I felt Lana's temple press to mine. She didn't pull away.

Her breathing had changed, slower now. Deep. She was finding a rhythm in the chaos.

I loved her more in that moment than I ever had in the daylight.

Loved her trust. Her bravery. The way she let herself fall into this madness and didn't run.

I moaned softly, an involuntary sound that slipped out through the gag as another surge of pleasure crept up my thighs. I didn't want to come again. Not really. I needed a break. But my body didn't care.

Neither did Lana's.

She jerked again behind me, and I felt her hips rock forward against the rope. Her gagged whimper was soft but desperate. She was still fighting it, just like I was.

I squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back.

And then I let go.

I stopped resisting. I leaned into the sensation. The ropes. The pressure. Her.

It started as a slow burn, deep and low, then climbed fast, tight and sudden. My thighs tensed. My back arched. I cried out through the cloth gag, and the sound came out broken and wet.

Behind me, Lana convulsed at the same time. Her moan was strangled and beautiful, the kind of sound that hit me harder than the orgasm itself.

We collapsed together, trembling, breathing in the same space.

Still bound. Still blind. Still gagged.

But never closer.

Minutes passed. Or hours. Time didn't make sense anymore.

And in the silence, in the rope, in the dark, I felt something shift.

We weren't just playing anymore.

We were becoming something more.

The edge stopped being a place we visited.

It became where we lived.

Time didn't move. It melted, into the spaces between breath and vibration, the silence between each trembling moan. The only real thing was Lana.

Still bound. Still with me.

We hadn't spoken in hours, and yet I'd never heard her more clearly. Her body told me everything--when she needed more, when she needed less, when she needed me to hold her through it, even if all I could offer was a clumsy hand behind our backs.

The rope had shifted. Tighter now. Our legs twitched with every pulse of the vibrator, every cruel drag of pressure against our most sensitive spots. The earlier waves of pleasure had given way to something deeper, more tender. Almost spiritual.

It didn't even feel like sex anymore.

It felt like... exposure.

Like being flayed open and cradled in the same breath.

Lana's breath hitched. A tiny sound--barely audible, but I felt it echo through her spine. Her body was trembling. I couldn't tell if she was cold or overwhelmed.

Probably both.

My cheek brushed hers again, and I tilted my head so our blindfolds pressed flush. Her skin was hot. Flushed. Her heartbeat raced under the shared rope between us.

I wanted to whisper to her, to tell her how proud I was of her, how beautiful she was like this, how completely safe she was even now, especially now. But all I could manage was a low hum through the gag.

Her hand tightened around mine.

We were hanging on by threads, raw, sore, soaked and spent. But we weren't breaking.

We were becoming.

The next orgasm came like a whisper, not a scream. Soft. Gentle. Almost... forgiving.

It rose from deep inside, slow and sweet, rolling through me like warm water as my hips rocked helplessly against the rope one more time. I didn't fight it. I didn't brace for it. I just let it take me.

Lana followed seconds later, her moan caught in the fabric of her gag, long and aching. Her fingers clenched around mine. Her body curled forward, pressing into me like she needed my heartbeat to stay grounded.

And I gave it to her.

No words. No sight.

Just rhythm.

Breath.

Touch.

Trust.

Eventually, she slumped back, panting quietly through her nose. I could hear her try to calm herself. I matched her breath again, guiding her without saying a thing.

We rested. Finally.

Everything throbbed. My thighs. My wrists. My heart.

But it was a good pain. A pain that meant I was alive. That I was hers. That we were still here.

Still bound.

Still together.

And in that moment--helpless, exhausted, blinded by more than the blindfold, I had never felt freer.

There's a moment after pleasure peaks, after the body stops convulsing, after the breath slows, when the silence becomes something else entirely.

It becomes sacred.

Lana and I floated in it.

Still gagged. Still blindfolded. Still bound back-to-back on the chairs with our bodies a tangle of sweat and rope and trust.

No words. No sight. No names. Just presence.

Her breathing was steadier now. Slower. She had collapsed against me again, her head tilted just enough that her cheek brushed mine. The heat of her skin grounded me--reminded me that I wasn't lost. I was right here. With her.

My own limbs had stopped twitching. The vibrator still buzzed faintly between my thighs, but the intensity had dulled. I couldn't tell if it had lowered or if I'd simply stopped reacting. My body had long since surrendered its resistance. I was worn down to raw nerve and instinct, floating in a fog of calm.

But it was Lana's calm that mattered more.

She wasn't trembling anymore.

She was breathing deep.

Even her smallest motions, her fingers gently curled around mine behind our backs, the soft pressure of her temple resting against my blindfold, told me she was okay.

More than okay.

She was with me.

And that... was everything.

We had come so far in the dark.

So much sensation. So much surrender. So many barriers stripped away without a single thread of rope undone.

I wanted to tell her what it meant.

How proud I was. How close I felt. How I'd never seen her more clearly than now, sightless and still.

Instead, I hummed. Just a soft vibration in my throat. Like a purr. Like a song only she could hear.

She answered.

Not with a sound, but with pressure. Her hand squeezed mine.

And then... she nuzzled closer. Carefully. Tenderly. As if trying to hold me without arms.

We melted into each other.

The room was quiet except for the buzz of our overstimulated bodies and the shared hush of our recovery.

And in that stillness, I thought:

Let it last.

Let the blindfolds stay.

Let the gags stay.

Let the world outside this room wait.

Because here, in this rope, tied stillness, in this sacred hush of afterglow and unspoken love...

We were whole.

The silence that had cocooned us so tightly began to ripple.

A faint sound, a creak, almost imperceptible, came from somewhere beyond the locked door.

I froze, breath catching behind the gag, heart skipping.

Lana's body stiffened against mine.

The room held its breath with us.

The hum of the vibrator seemed louder for a moment, then softer, as if it too was listening.

We didn't move.

We didn't speak.

But the air shifted.

Time was pressing in again.

Somewhere beyond our blindfolds, the world was still turning.

And we were still here, bound, helpless, and waiting.

Her fingers twitched in mine, a delicate tremor that spoke of both nerves and anticipation.

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

A soft, almost thankful sound escaped her throat, a muffled murmur that was close to a laugh.

Even gagged, we shared a secret smile.

The ropes held us tight, but in this moment, they felt less like chains and more like the threads of a story only we could tell.

The door creaked again--a little louder this time.

And still, we stayed.

Together.

In the quiet.

The soft thud of footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Each step carried a weight that vibrated through the locked door, sending a fresh tremor through my bound body.

Lana stiffened behind me, our breaths hitching together.

The lock clicked.

The door creaked open.

A shadow fell across the threshold, tall and deliberate.

The room's air thickened--charged and electric.

I couldn't see his face, but I felt his gaze, sharp and deliberate, scanning us.

The hum of the vibrators still thrummed beneath us, blending with the quiet tension.

His footsteps drew closer.

His hands moved expertly, brushing the ropes that held us, checking knots, teasing, reminding us of our shared vulnerability.

Without words, he leaned down, his breath warm on my neck.

A whisper, muffled but clear in meaning,

"Still here, my lovelies. You're mine this evening."

Lana's body shuddered against me, a response I mirrored in every fiber.

We were helpless.

Bound.

And utterly his.

And in that moment, I knew that our long wait wasn't over.

It was just beginning.

The moment his hands touched my wrists, a jolt raced through me, part fear, part excitement, all trust.

He moved slowly, deliberately.

Checking the knots, his fingers tracing the rope without loosening it.

He whispered close to my ear, breath warm and low.

"You've done well. Both of you."

His voice was calm, commanding, without being harsh.

I felt his fingers trail along the curve of my neck, down my shoulder, light as a feather but burning with intention.

"Remember," he said softly, "you are safe. You are mine."

Lana's hand squeezed mine harder.

I squeezed back.

Despite the gag, I managed a soft, muffled "Mmm."

He chuckled, a low, approving sound.

Then he paused, hands resting lightly on our bound wrists.

"You'll stay like this a while longer," he said. "But you're doing exactly what I want."

The vibrators buzzed on, relentless.

His hands lingered on my wrists, firm but gentle, fingers tracing the tight rope. I struggled to speak through the gag, soft, muffled sounds escaping.

"Mmmph... nnnph..." I tried to ask, How long?

Lana's breath hitched behind me. I heard her muffled whimper, a question or maybe a plea. Her fingers twitched, pressing hard against mine.

The professor chuckled low, his voice teasing but patient. "Patience, Brit. You're doing beautifully."

He leaned closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from my cheek with one hand, his other hand moving to Lana's jaw, tilting her head up gently.

Lana whimpered softly, muffled sounds spilling from her gag, something like, "Nnnph... mmphf!"

He hushed her with a finger to her lips. "Shh... soon."

His hands then moved with careful precision, adjusting the ropes slightly, keeping them snug but comfortable. He pressed a light kiss to my temple, then to Lana's.

"Still tied, still silent," he murmured. "But never alone."

Lana shivered, her body pressing closer to mine, fingers squeezing my hand fiercely. I whimpered a reply through the gag, something like, "Mmmph... love..."

He smiled, satisfied. "Good girls."

The vibrators thrummed on relentlessly, and in the quiet, gagged murmurs and breathy sighs, we found a new kind of conversation.

His hands never stopped moving, tracing, adjusting, teasing. I tried again, muffled and urgent, "Mmmph! Nnnph... please..." The gag swallowed my words, but I hoped he felt the desperation behind them.

Lana's muffled voice joined mine, soft and shaky, "Nnph... mmphf..." like she was begging in silence too.

"Patience, both of you. Your silence is your surrender, and I want to hear it."

I whimpered again, struggling through the gag to say, "Mmmph... more..." The sound came out breathy and desperate.

He leaned closer, voice a low rumble in my ear: "Not yet, Brit. Control is part of this. You'll get what you need, when I say."

Lana shuddered, her body pressing harder into mine. Her muffled cries were urgent, pleading without words. "Nnnph... please..."

He brushed a finger softly over her gag, silencing her with a tender but firm touch. "Soon," he whispered, "very soon."

Our hands clenched together, fingers locked tight behind our backs.

Even gagged and blindfolded, even bound and helpless, the unspoken words hung heavy between us.

We were captive to sensation.

To trust.

To each other.

His fingers brushed over the rope's fibers, tracing the path where skin met restraint. My muffled pleas tangled with Lana's soft whimpers, both of us struggling against the silence our gags demanded.

"Mmmph... nnhph... more..." I gasped, voice thick and strangled.

Lana's breath hitched in tandem, her muted sounds weaving through the air like a quiet hymn of need.

"Patience, my girls. Your yearning only makes it sweeter."

His hands shifted to my hips, pressing firmly, grounding me even as my body trembled with wanting.

I tried to moan, a breathy, muffled sound that conveyed both surrender and longing.

He chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. "You'll have what you crave, but only when you earn it."

Lana's gagged murmur was almost desperate, "Nnph... please..."

His fingers found hers behind our backs, weaving their way through the ropes to lace their fingers tight.

We squeezed, a silent promise of connection, trust, and shared surrender.

The vibrators pulsed relentlessly, humming like a heartbeat that bound us more surely than any rope.

And in that tangled silence, gagged, blindfolded, bound, we spoke without words.

Our bodies said everything.

Finally, he gave us a break, if you call being moved out of those chairs and onto the floor a break. He removed the cloths from our eyes temporarily. He shut off the vibrators. Our crotch ropes remained. He tied our ankles to our thighs. He posed Lana first, pulling her knees far apart, picking her head up, pushing her chest forward like she was presenting herself for inspection. He did me the same way, posed us like two bondage dolls, or rather two slaves on the auction block awaiting their fate.

"I'm going to add more for your senses to experience, girls."

He knelt beside me and cupped my chin.

"You like being gagged, don't you my dear? Don't lie. The wetness gives you away, Brit."

"Mmmmm," I nodded.

"Tell me that you like being gagged."

"Mhm hmmmph mmmhmph ghmmm."

"Is that the best you can do?"

"Mmmmm, hmmm," I nodded.

He removed the cloth wrapped around my mouth. He smoothed the tape over my lips. He bent his head and kissed me.

"I love the way your lips feel under here." He kissed me again and ran his fingers over my lips. He pulled a blue satin scarf from his pocket and tied it on my head and under my chin. From there, he produced a white satin scarf that he tied over my mouth and nose. The final scarf was tied over my eyes, trapping me once more in darkness.

"Feel the softness of the satin, my dear," he whispered, pressing a kiss to my temple. "It's a sensual fabric, is it not?"

"Mmmmmm," I nodded.

He moved onto Lana next. I could hear him kissing her taped mouth, whispering in her ear. I can only assume that he was doing the same to her, burying her head in scarves.

"Still breathing my lovelies?"

"Mmmmmmm, hmmmm," we said in unison.

"I want to watch you two some more. Here is another sensory experience for you both."

"Hmmmmmm!" I cried when I felt the lightest of touches against my shoulder and bicep. It brushed lightly over my breast, descending down my belly towards my swollen and aching clit.

"Hold your position, Brit. A good slave does not move without permission."

"Mmmmmph!" I groaned. The sensation moved down between my legs.

"Mmmmmmm! Hmmmmm, mmmmmph!"

"Sensitive down there?"

"Mmmmmmmm!" I nodded.

"You want to cum some more?"

"Mhmmm, phmmmm!"

"I can't leave your friend out, can I?"

I can only imagine what he was doing to Lana, the way that she squealed and yelped.

"Enjoying the burn ladies, or should I bring you both to orgasm once more?"

"Phmmmph! Mhmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmmmph!"

Professor Benjamin laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes from you both. You have permission to come. Let's see you work those crotch ropes."

"Mmmmmmmmmmm!" we both grunted. I rose up on my knees and lowered myself again. I thrust my pelvis forward. I lowered myself again and began rotating my hips. Then I shifted my weight from side to side. Oh man, oh man, oh man! I ground my pussy into that rope, despite the burn, despite the pain, I had to cum!

Lana's groans and moans were equally powerful. We began to climb the hill together until we reached the peak. We joined hands and jumped off together.

As we both recovered, the professor said,

"Your surrender is so very sexy. The party isn't over yet."

He untied my legs. He helped me stand and stretch. He finally removed my crotch rope. Beneath it, I felt that my pussy lips were probably twice their normal size.

"Still hungry, my dear?" He slid his hand between my legs.

"Mmmmmmmmph!" I jumped.

"Still sensitive, I see."

"You're going to stimulate Lana now. Kneel down."

He helped me to the floor. I heard a couple of muffled grunts from Lana.

"Bend over and kiss her pussy. I'm going to take you from behind. Don't come until I say so."

He pushed my head down. I felt the satin brush Lana's quivering thighs. Even with my nose covered I could smell her earthy arousal, or was that me?"

"Mmmmmmmm, hmmmmm, mmmmmm," she moaned. Her breath came in long drags until I found her clit with my nose. I began to drag my nose up and down her clit and move my head back and forth across her pussy. In the meantime, the professor gripped my hips. He positioned the head of his cock at my entrance, but he just held it there.

"Mmmmmmmmmmph!"

"Focus on her," he said, pushing my head further.

The throbbing began. So did the ache. It was no longer a matter of want, but need for his cock!

Only a cock could scratch my itch.

"So beautiful," he quipped. "So obedient." He rubbed my pussy with the head.

Teasing.

No entry yet.

I tried scoot back, but he wouldn't let me.

"You want this?"

"Mmmmmmmm! Mmmmmm, hmmmmmm, mmmmmmmm!" I groaned I was trying to focus on Lana, who was twisting and turning wildly, but I was still in aching need.

"Now, my pet."

He pushed his cock into my hungry wetness, finally, but he held

it there.

"Fuck me," he said.

"Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm, hmmmmm, mmmmmmm!" My muffled moans vibrate against Lana's dripping pussy. The satin was soaked with her juices. I dipped my pelvis under and pushed it up and out. His dick brushed my womb entrance and knocked against my pussy walls.

"Good girl, Brit! Move those sexy hips!"

Professor Benjamin reached under me. He trapped my clit between his fingers and rubbed.

"Don't come yet," he warned. "Lana, you may come, my dear."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmm!"

Lana's muffled song filled the room, along with squirts of pussy juice that caught me in the face.

"Keep fucking me," the professor said.

I was moving my whole torso, not just my pelvis, pushing my weight back on him.

"Oh yes, yes, that's a good girl! You may cum! Cum now!"

I screamed. I yelled and grunted. He pulled me up and against him. He grabbed my breasts as he pushed me onto my knees.

"Fuck! Uhhhhhhhh! Shit! I'm gonna fill your pussy!"

He slammed me into him as he stiffened and came. He groaned loudly. Slowly, he pulled out of me.

"Your turn."

He tied my ankles to my knees again. He had me lay back while Lana rubbed my pussy with her satin hood. She did more than me. She used her whole head to stimulate me! She planted gagged kisses along my inner thighs. She used her chin to rub my clit.

I open and closed my hands. My toes curled under. My neck and back arched. I took long, slow breaths through my nose.

My pussy throbbed, ached, dripped water like a faucet. My heart beat wildly. My neck arched as I got close to another orgasm.

"Now, Brit! Now!"

My body shattered. The pleasure came with jolts and shocks, shakes and shivers, and finally, rest.

He released us from the ropes, but left our heads shrouded in satin.

"Now my little pets, I want you to entertain me. Without sight and without voice, how will you pleasure each other?"

I reached out in front of me. Lana's hands found my arms. We gently massaged each other's wrists and arms, feeling the rope indentations. Lana's hands held my forearms in place. She slid her fingers up to my shoulders. Her nails ran along the length of my collarbone to my satin hood.

"Mmmmmmm?" she said.

"Mmmmm," I took her hand and pressed it to my cheek so that she'd feel me nodding. She cupped my face and pressed her mouth to mine. She planted gagged kisses down to the hollow of my neck.

"Mmmmm, mmmmmm," I moaned.

She cupped my breasts and began to roll my nipples between her fingers.

"Mmmf," I reached out and reached around her waist. I messaged her hips while she played with my breasts. Then I cupped her ass and pulled her closer to me. Our nipples touched with feather light sensations. We began to move our torsos back and forth so that our breasts brush lightly over one another.

"Lana, hands behind you."

I assume that he tied her hands together again.

"Spread your legs."

I left one hand on her waist as I stepped behind her. I could feel her hands bound with something else soft. I massaged her arms, and then reached around to cup her breasts. I nuzzled the hollow of her neck while massaging her breasts and easing my hands down her sides and around her flat stomach. She moaned softly,

"Mmmf, mmmph...." More, more.

I made a web with my hands over her navel and down her lower belly. I kept feeling lower until I was in her thatch of pubic hair. Lana pushed her butt back into my groin. She slowly rubbed her ass against me. Her fingers rose up my torso and lowered into my pubic hair.

"Mmmmmpf," I said. I thrust my pelvis forward and she pushed hers back. I descended into her wetness with my fingers.

"Very lovely, girls. You all are giving me a very sexy show. But wait."

I heardhim cross the room. I hear a vibrator come to life. Then I felt another satin scarf around Lana's waist.

"Mmmmmmmm!" she said.

"Pull this end," he said to me. He placed the scarf end in my hand. "Pull it and tie it into place."

I assumed that the vibrator is in her! I pulled and made a knot at the small of her back.

"Mmmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmpf," Lana groaned.

"Dance with each other," he said.

Lana pushed her hips back on me. I grabbed her around the waist. We began to move together, our hips dipping forward, back, and around at the same time. We moaned against one another, my breasts pressing into her back, and her ass in my lap. I gripped the scarf around her waist and tugged.

"Ormmpf...." Oh God, she moaned. She began to shift her hips to the side, then down, and back up the other side. She was riding the vibrator and the scarf! I moved with her, in this beautiful captive dance where we were trying to find ecstasy yet again. I pressed my hand between her legs, pressing the vibrator deeper in her and wiggling it around.

"Mmmmf!" She rolled her pelvis in circles. I pressed my groin to her ass and grabbed the scarf.

Suddenly, she cried out, her pelvis thrust forward in rapid succession. When she came down, Professor said

"Untie her, Brit. Then it's your turn."

He bound my wrists together. The vibrator and the crotch scarf came next. Lana wasted no time in grabbing my waist and pulling me into deep pelvic rotations with her. Our knees bent as we dipped and then rose, dip, and rose, then shifted our weight from one leg to the other.

"Ommmf!" I groaned.

My orgasm was thunderous, angry, and powerful. She held me through it all.

"Untie her," he said. She did, and I was having trouble remaining upright.

"Now my beauties, let's get those hoods off."

***

Days had passed since that night, since the ropes, the blindfolds, the muffled whispers and shared breaths.

Yet, the memory lingered like a quiet echo beneath our skin, a reminder of something fragile and fierce.

In the light of day, the threads that had bound us remained, not in rope or leather, but in trust woven deep between us.

Our connection had grown, stretched beyond physical restraints into something unbreakable.

We spoke more openly now, laughed more freely, and touched with a tenderness born of shared vulnerability.

The boundaries set in that room became the foundation of something new, something stronger.

Every glance, every gentle squeeze of a hand, every whispered promise was a testament to the journey we'd taken together.

And though the ropes were gone, the ties between us held firm, unseen, unbreakable, and infinitely precious.

The ropes are gone now, but the weight of that night stays with me, not as a burden, but as a reminder.

A reminder of how trust can transform vulnerability into strength.

Of how silence can speak louder than words.

Of how being seen--even without sight--and held, changes everything.

Lana's presence beside me, steady and real, was the anchor I didn't know I needed.

And his steady hand, his calm voice, guided me through places I never thought I'd go.

I learned that surrender isn't about losing control, it's about choosing to give it to someone worthy.

That true connection isn't just physical. It's woven through breath, touch, and heart.

The experience didn't just bind us together in the moment, it rewrote the story of us.

I don't consider myself a total lesbian. I still like men, but I think I learned that I can go both ways. It's something that only Lana knows. It's a special secret that we share between us.

Will we ever let the professor tie us up again?

Maybe. I know one thing...

Submission taught me that by giving up control, you find yourself in the depths of your soul.

I hope you find yourself as well.

The End