They Keep Slipping!

2/10/98

Each time Master thought he had them right, they unraveled! Amidst giggles from me--cursing and comments to “be quiet and hold still,” from him, we tried again. With sweaty, set face he worked at it silently till he stood back and looked at me with a smile of satisfaction. I bit my lip nervously.

“Master, please let me see!”

He only smiled and pinched my nipples hard.

I looked down from his face to my breasts and stared at them open-mouthed. They were beautiful!

“May I feel them?”

At his nod, I touched hot marble.

***

Once upon a time, I had large breasts! (Laughing out loud) Yes I know, I can hear you say they are still large, but in high school I was already a C cup. I won't tell you what the girls said about them, but they sure helped me get welcome attention from the boys. What more can a shy girl ask for?

By 20 years old they had ballooned to a G cup. The weight on such a petite frame created so much stress on my back, that my doctor encouraged me to have breast reduction surgery to make them a modest D. To tell the truth, after all the hassle I didn't feel they were all that sexy. Of course since then I've learned to enjoy what I can do with them. Baby oiled, pushed up, decorated, wrapped in lingerie, used as sex toys—I did it all. Now they are the focus of bondage.

When Master first showed me the breast bondage pictures I looked indifferently, and moved on to more stimulatingly graphic images of bondage. I didn't realize at the time that he was forming a plan. He found the pictures erotic, and sensed I would be perfect for it. I needed no convincing when it promised to make me the center of his attention.

On our first try, he looped the middle of the length of vinyl rope behind my neck, ran it over my shoulders, winding it around my breasts. Trying to compress the globes tightly, he continued until the rope was used up, effectively squeezing them into a torpedo shape. That was so-so, and I snickered as I felt the slippery rope inch its way off my soft flesh, which got me a firm slap on the derriere and a warning to "Be quiet!"

I wanted to tell him what I was feeling as he worked: How I could actually tell what the counterbalance was, but didn't want to 'top' and get a reprimand. After they slipped out the third time despite his persistence in trying to re-create some of his favorite pictures, he stood back in frustration.

“Master, may I make a suggestion please?”

“Yes.”

“Since I'm used to wearing bras, I understand the balance and I can feel why the rope starts to slip.”

“Lil girl, you are under orders to help me this time.”

Master's desire was to get them to thrust out aggressively, so there was debate on just how tight and just how much rope to use for support. He also wanted to find a way to force my nipples upward, which I certainly wasn't against—I wanted anything that made him happy. So, he started by laying four even layers of rope around the top of my ribcage and I helped by lifting my breasts out of the way. Looping it through the rear strands to secure it, he told me to “drop `em,” and brought each end back to the front. He layered the rope four times over the tops just at the nipple ridge in a sash effect, tying it off in the back again. This pushed the body of them down, ballooning them out and turned my nipples up.

Now that we had found the right formula of applying the layers, the rest came down to aesthetics and personal choice: The fun part.

One thing we realized: If you want to use only one rope — 50 feet is good. This gives you enough length to have at least four sash-like loops wrapped around the body and breasts, and some remaining for tying off. One other important thing: Lay them with even pressure so they don't have an area that is pinching flesh, and the ropes will be comfortable enough to be worn for longer periods of time without damaging the tissue. This is especially important with older players, and Master is always aware that I have arthritis in my hip joints, as well as less than perfect circulation in my extremities.

***

When he finally turned me to the mirror, what I saw was a short-ish redhead with red/blue breasts ballooning outward and nipples spread tightly over the surface. The ropes looked decorative, and I felt sexy as hell as I turned from side to side to view them.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

When I complied, he tied my elbows and wrists together. In this manner, I was made to stand motionless watching in the mirror while he ravished my breasts, pinching the hot flesh and lightly slapping them. This is when he brought out my rouge and painted my nipples a perfect, dark pink -- making them into the most flawless set of breasts I had ever seen. And a moan escaped my lips.

We discovered since then that, while we like Ace bandages for bondage, I don't care for it on my chest and breasts because it restricts my breathing terribly. Decorative ropes with tassels that I had bought at Christmastime were pretty but not functional, because they were too stiff, and the tassels fell off with barely a tug. I learned to enjoy saran wrap as much as ropes, especially when he places cotton balls over my nipples before wrapping, and carefully cut a hole over them. This bares that tender flesh for clamps and clips, and other `Dom pleasing' activities. Oh yes, fun indeed.

It's quite satisfying that since then breast bondage has become a large part of our repertoire. On the days we have limited time to play, it is only a few moments to nirvana under the rope.