Lessons in Vulnerability
by R. G. Bargy

Allowing yourself to be tied up can hardly be called sensible, Fransesca knew this. Once the ropes were in place she could not prevent anything being done to her or anyone from seeing her. She had to trust her captor. She had no reason not to trust her husband, but then again he had never before been given the opportunity to control her so completely.

"I have a surprise for you if you are up for it," he had said mysteriously.

He had promised her an orgasm she would never forget. He had said no more until after dinner the following evening. Even then he was very circumspect.

"You will just have to wait and see," he smiled, "are you still up for it?"

Fransesca had not paused to think. "I am up for anything," she had challenged, "except perhaps another night in the garage," she had corrected. She saw no reason to have changed her mind. "Of course." Was her simple response

"Strip off then," he said enthusiastically. "Iíll get the ropes."

This was different. Enthusiasm? Matt had been reluctant to tie her up at all at first and despite her instructions about him being in control she had needed to encourage him with unsubtle comments like "make me!" Now he was chivying her along. This must be really spectacular. What on earth was he planning? As she absentmindedly started to peel off her clothes Fransesca could not imagine what was to come.

"Where do you want me?" She called up the stairs to him.

"Donít move," he called back

Fransesca was now even more intrigued. Apart from the obvious ambiguity of the instruction seeing as She had already moved into the hall at the bottom of the stairs. Should she stay here or go back? She felt a bit silly wandering around naked, even if this was her own home. What on earth could he be thinking of? He had now proved that he could keep her secure for a whole night but she had no inkling that he was getting any sort of pleasure from doing so.† Even his use of her as a sex object had been more of a test of his own prowess than anything else. He had wanted to prove his capacity to have several climaxes in an evening, but in between she had been basically ignored. What sort of surprise could he come up with that both he and she might enjoy? Her curiosity was at its peak.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs in all her naked glory. Being naked was part of the scene they had made so she saw nothing unusual so far.† They had used several parts of the house already so that should not mean anything. Why not the bottom of the stairs? The banister would be an excellent anchor but she was supposed to be orgasming? Matt was obviously not willing to elaborate and Fransesca was bemused; not sure whether to be excited or nervous.

"Have you ever had an orgasm standing up?" He asked.

"Canít say that I have," she answered truthfully. Even on the one occasion she had draped herself over the banister she had not orgasmed when vertical. She had slipped free she remembered, and the moment had been lost. That had been a farce. The pull of her own weight had been much greater than she had anticipated. She had nearly ripped half her skin off as the rope slipped. It had been one of those experiments that did not work. The memory made her smile which must have confused Matt enormously by the strange look on his face. "How do you want me?" She asked quickly.

He made her stand in the hall and put her hands high over her head, shuffling her along until there was a banister post at the right height. Her hands were then tied to the banister stretching her upright. Even now her adrenaline started pumping. This was different. With her arms above her head she was conscious that her body was very exposed. Matt then secured her arms to the banisters on either side of her hands. She was not going anywhere, even if he kept her legs free!

He then washed her. It was strange, yet erotic. He was gentle, but thorough. She was stood on a towel. He had a bowl of warm soapy water which dripped down her as he worked. The sponge felt rough but the flannel was smooth. He spent time on her breasts encouraging her nipples to swell. The towel was soft and the friction over her skin made her warm. By the time he had finished she was tingling all over.† Even then she did not suspect anything was amiss. He could have done this is the shower but why not here? Once the floor towel was removed nobody would have known what had happened.

He seemed to spend ages tying the rest of her. Several times he stopped and started over again, standing back and examining his handiwork before continuing. Tying her up was still new, so she accepted this experimenting without question. He had to learn somehow and there was no other person to practice on. She was even pleased that he was taking things so seriously. She could not, however work out what was so important about the positioning of the ropes. Twice he had bound her breasts so that they had been bunched and squeezed, and then he had undone it again. She had not been able to identify any difference between each attempt, save perhaps the position of the final knot. Her hands were stretched up above her so what difference could it possibly make where the knot sat? Something should have sparked a warning to her, but she had just stood there meekly, curious as to what he was doing.

When he had finished she was neatly displayed, her arms high over her head, her legs tight together. There was the butterfly nestled in her pussy indicating that the long awaited orgasm would be on the cards the controls were sitting tantalizingly out of her reach on a step behind her. If she strained she could see but she could not touch it. Her breasts were bunched provocatively and he had adorned them with jewelled nipple jewellery, not as fierce as her clamps but making their presence felt nonetheless. He must have bought them specially she decided. ĎCuriouser and curiouserí, to quote a phrase. What had he been doing finding erotic jewellery? Where had he been finding erotic jewellery? Then all other questions were dismissed as his diabolical scheme was revealed.

"I have invited Paul over this evening, "he told her. "As he has already seen you naked and tied up I thought you would not mind."

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She had been tricked well and truly. She was furious and kicked her bound legs out at him like some gymnast on the rings or bars. It was an instinctive reaction. The fact that her feet were not secured to anything had not been in the forefront of her mind. She had wanted to kick him and had found there was a possibility of succeeding. He avoided her neatly.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed, "didnít see that coming! He chortled. "Better do something about that. We canít have you kicking our guest can we?"

He disappeared from view and she continued to flex her hips, lifting her legs high like she was in training. It was quite easy, with her arms held above her, she could pull against them getting all the purchase she needed and her feet, though tied together, had been just standing on the floor not attached to anything. Her thighs were tied so bending her knees was more restricted but she had flexibility in her hips so could kick out in a one hundred an eighty degree arc from the stairs. The stair poles creaked ominously but this was an old house and things were built to last. She was still dangling helplessly when he got back.

He returned clutching a drill and some sort of iron fittings, hooks of some sort she decided. He was obviously going to tie her down further but he had to get to her first. She kept trying to kick him. He waited for the right moment and caught her legs easily, pushing her back straight and leaning on her so that she could not move. This was frustrating being controlled so easily. She screamed a few curses at him but he did not even deign to respond. He worked away beneath her gaze, turning once so as to put something either side of her. There was a slight release of pressure as he reached for some rope then the deed was done. Her feet were now lashed against the stair cupboard stopping her kicking out. She was now held hand and foot. She was fully visible, her personal parts on view to all. The butterfly might be covering her pussy, but she was certainly overexposed for visitors. Her anger and embarrassment knew no limits.

"Calm down dear," he admonished, "we want you to look your best for Paul."

"I thought you were going to hit him, not invite him for a grope and freak show." She growled.

"No you were right, he did do me a favour, besides he came clean of his own volition."

Fransesca gasped in amazement. She would never have thought Paul had it in him.

"He confirmed everything you told me," Matt went on, "even down to threatening to take a copy of the key, which he did not do incidentally. So I suggested he come and see what he had started."

Fransesca was still furious. Bondage was a private affair! She was not to be put on display for all and sundry. Matt disappeared from view. He was not interested in her point of view and she was in no position to change his mind. As her temper subsided she squirmed uncomfortably. She felt more naked than naked if such a thing were possible. The ropes held her in place but they would not protect her from eyes or hands or anything else for that matter. It occurred to her that someone could come and slit her throat and she would be powerless to prevent it. She did not think that either Matt or Paul would do her any harm but the realisation of how helpless she was when bound suddenly hit her. What if it had been a burglar or rapist that had found her on the bed that time?

She dismissed such thoughts as being pointless and irrelevant. Bondage between consenting and trusting people was unlikely to end in premature death, barring accident or carelessness. She could forestall the more obvious pitfalls like choking on things stuffed in her mouth, so it would have to be a more deliberate act to actually cause her harm and there was no reason for Matt or Paul for that matter to do it. Paul had seen her before naked and bound so Matt had been right to a certain extent, but she had not been ready to parade her body in front of him again, and so soon.

Fransesca then realised that this in itself was part of her fantasies, being forced to orgasm in front of strangers. Paul was not a complete stranger of course, but even so she would be baring everything in front of him, physically and more.

Matt appeared and playfully flicked at one of the pendants dangling from her nipples and she gasped uncontrollably. Her body would let her down. Bondage was a stimulant that went beyond reason. She would bare all whether she liked it or not. The knowledge did nothing to change her self consciousness or frustration.

"Now calm down and enjoy yourself, " he said with an air of intimacy that she was not prepared to share. "He will not be having sex with you," he said as if that was the only major factor in all this, "you wonít even have to suck his cock."

Fransesca could not decide if that comment had been laced with irony or distaste. She was amazed that Matt had accepted Paul's previous encounter with such good will. Paul had basically demanded sex from her and Matt seemed to have not only forgiven him but now rewarded him.

She was now left to wait. She was neither comfortable or strained. The jewellery did little to stimulate and the butterfly was inert, promising much but delivering nothing. She had neglected to look at the clock so had no idea how long before Paul would arrive. The wait would be agonising, but wait she must. Despite her valiant efforts she could not escape from the trap Matt had so skillfully laid for her. Her enthusiasm for bondage had blinded her to the possibility that she might be vulnerable. Her anger and frustration now interfered with her usual reverie and daydreaming. How could he? Why would he? This was all wrong! The position, the circumstance, the idea of it, was all wrong, but she could do nothing about it. She fought her bonds. She strained, she struggled, she had to escape. She had to stop this. It was indecent! It was...

The doorbell signaled the beginning or the end? She realised that she was embarrassed as never before and flushed from head to toe. This would be as much a trial as the garage had been, possibly more so, she decided, and she was unable to escape once again. She still struggled unsuccessfully to free herself. She wondered whether she might be able to break the banister but time was no longer on her side.

"Come in, come in. She heard Mattís voice down the hallway. "Perhaps I can offer you a drink? There is no rush, she will be there when weíre ready."

The words cut deep into her psyche. She was now an entertainment and a fixed one at that. One that could be looked at or ignored at will. Freak show! Those had been her words, spoken without thought, yet she felt more like a side show in a fun fair than a loved wife or someone indulging in harmless fantasy. She had always known that being tied up left you open to abuse. She had trusted Matt and he had taken advantage of her. The idea that he could do anything like his after the previous disaster had never crossed her mind. Her enthusiasm for bondage had blinded her and now she was taking the consequences. She was helpless and very vulnerable. She stood upright, her body waiting for its next attack, her mind in turmoil. The prolonged wait had done nothing to ease her frustration or embarrassment, only increased it. She could not come to terms with what was happening to her, but despite everything she was, she suddenly realised, extremely turned on. That just added to her embarrassment.

What could they do? Tickle her? She had become aware of her vulnerability to tickling already and with her arms high up in the air her arm pits and waist were very inviting. At least her bottom was protected as was her back. Her legs were tight together and the butterfly filled her pussy. Of course there was nothing to stop them changing the position she was in. She would be no match for two determined men, especially with her hands tied. The thought filled her with a certain amount of dread. She was at their mercy. She was captured and helpless awaiting her fate. It was nothing like she had ever imagined.

Eventually Matt and Paul appeared. Possibly a little worse for drink she decided. Had they really been that long?

"There she is," Matt announced triumphantly, "what do you think?"

Paul looked at her lecherously. "Your rope work is impressive," he complimented, "and she came willingly?"

"She had no idea," Matt confirmed gleefully.

"No chance of escape?"

"Of course," Matt assured him, "She is under my complete control."

"Bastard!" She snapped, She was vaguely aware that she had said something similar to Paul on their last encounter.

"She can still speak," Paul commented. "Why have you not gagged her?"

"She can hardly hurt me with words, besides I tried the other night and it was very unsatisfactory."

"What did you use? She had used a tea towel on herself when I found her and that was very effective."

Matt looked puzzled. "I tried a tea towel but it did not stop her enough. Even pulled tight she could make too much noise for me to concentrate. I ended up using a plaster but she has vetoed that idea."

"Did you knot the tea towel?"

Fransesca reacted to this comment with a mixture of fear and consternation. Although she had gagged herself she did not particularly like them, and it severely restricted her ability to communicate. Matt seemed to like the idea but she was less keen, now here was Paul telling him how to go about it properly. She had not bargained on this turn of events. Paul was letting out trade secrets.

"I will show you," Paul said. "Got a tea towel?"

Fransesca could only watch and wait while Paul neatly knotted a tea towel making it suitably large for the task in mind. She closed her mouth firmly, determined not to allow the full demonstration.

"Open wide," Paul encouraged.

Fransescaís mouth stayed closed and she shook her head violently. Matt just pinched a nipple making her gasp, the towel arrived before she could resist further.

"See it fills her mouth reducing the amount of echo from her throat," Paul explained. He turned back to her "Naughty not to tell him," he scolded and gave her other tit an encouraging squeeze. Her reaction was much more muffled this time.

"So now what?" Paul had turned back to Matt.

"We tease her to orgasm," Matt replied matter of factly. "Trouble is," he continued, "we have to release her when sheís finished."


"Thatís the way it is. Itís for her pleasure after all."

"What do you get out of it?"

"Well, Naturally I like to see her happy, but sometimes I tie her so that I have access. You didnít expect me to fuck her in front of you did you?"

Fransesca wanted to blurt out "Why not you expect me to come in front of him!" But the gag would have reduced the effect and besides it was never going to happen; neither did she want it for that matter. It was bad enough being humiliated let alone being publicly fucked.

"May be," Paul conceded, although his disappointment was evident, "but orgasm or no sheís going to be pissed at you when you let her go."

Paul was apparently also quite perceptive

"I donít see why," Matt continued blissfully unaware. "She said her fantasies included being forced to orgasm in front of other people, and itís got to be better than the other night."

Fransesca did not want such disasters to be spread around but the tea towel meant that she was unable to make him understand. One more disadvantage of allowing yourself to be tricked she thought ruefully. And her temperature seemed to go up another notch.

"She got me to tie her up naked in the garage," he went on, "got more than she bargained for," he laughed awkwardly, "she came out looking like death warmed up. She took a whole day to sleep it off." He confided. "I even had to get my own dinner!"

"Nevertheless sheíd knock your block off now if her legs werenít pinned down," Paul pointed out, "She looks like she could bust her guts." He added, giving her a wide birth as if she might somehow break free.

"She tried earlier," Matt confessed, "Which is why her legs are pinned down now." He emphasised the Ďareí as if he had somehow prevented a catastrophe. "So what do you suggest?"

"We need to ensure her complicity before we go any further," Paul decided.

"How do we do that?" Matt complained, "all she has to do is mumble Ďsausagesí and the gameís up."

"Sausages," Paul said with a surprisingly even voice. "I take it thatís your safety word."

Paul was showing an amazing understanding, he was obviously not unfamiliar with such activities. He may even have taken part Fransesca decided or at least well read. His activities on their first encounter would be easier to explain. She vaguely wondered what his wife thought, or if she even knew.

"Well she hasnít stopped us yet, and she could have, so she must still be willing to a certain extent, despite her outrage," Paul deduced out loud.

Fransesca found herself going hot from head to toe again with this startling insight. He was right of course, she could have called a halt. Why hadn't she? She wanted the orgasm of course but at what price? She could have stopped everything with a word, but too many stops and it may never start again. She was not only vulnerable due to immobility when tied up, she was also vulnerable because she liked it. She had to accept things that were not as she wished or risk having nothing at all. Despite her outrage, her embarrassment, her fury she had ignored the one means available to her for release! Suddenly she felt very weary. She shivered uncontrollably. Her stomach felt all knotted. The realisation was overwhelming. She could have escaped! Now it was too late.

"So we make her promise not to tear the place down, or she gets teased, but no climax," Paul concluded. "Or we could take a photograph of her. You do have a camera?"

"Yes but not a digital one. I must remember to get one. So we will just have to revert to the no orgasm scenario."

Fransesca squirmed uneasily. They would deny her the prize! It was true, she wanted an orgasm, she had expected one, she had been promised it! As far as she was concerned nothing had changed. On the other hand she did not doubt the two of their capacity to tease her to distraction without letting her finish. She was in an impossible position, ropes or not she was completely helpless to their demands.

"So whatís it to be Fransesca?" It was Matt who was asking. "Do we leave you tied up so that you can get over your anger? Or will you promise to run upstairs and leave us alone?"

She could not work out how to answer with a gag in her mouth,

"Or do we just tease you and leave you to stew?"

She tried to say something but it was clear they would not understand. She was not even sure what she was trying to say. Fortunately Paul was a little more clued in and asked a specific question.

"Do you want an orgasm?" Maybe several..." he added hopefully.

Fransesca knew it was too late to argue. She had no way to even negotiate. All she could do was nod her head. Yes, damn it! She wanted an orgasm! She was entitled. She was promised an orgasm. She made sure the answer was clear.

"Good," he confirmed. "Now," his voice sounded slightly sinister, "will you just go upstairs when we let you go?"

Another nod, she knew it was her only choice really.

"And no retaliation," he added forcibly.

Fransesca reluctantly shook her head. She was beaten again. She had walked into the whole thing and now must take the consequences. The orgasm better be good, she thought grimly, steeling herself for what ever they had in mind.

"Thatís a sensible girl," he said patronizingly. Fransesca flushed again.

"Great!" enthused Paul. "Let the fun commence!" Matt seemed relieved. He reached for the controls to the butterfly, but Paul motioned him to stop. Fransesca looked at him curiously.

"How slow can you get that thing to work?" He asked.

"I duíno," Matt answered vaguely, "Iíve never tried. Put your hand down on it and weíll see."

Fransesca felt Paul's hand close over the vibrator and was disturbed at her reaction. She wanted his touch. Maybe not Paul's specifically but she had accepted it without question. She was sure that their first bondage encounter had sent wrong messages to Paul and she was in danger of doing the same again. She could not help it, despite everything she was very hot and this had nothing to do with the central heating.

Matt turned the control slowly and after a short while the motor burst into life sending pulses straight inside her. She shivered in expectation but the vibrations stopped as quickly as they had started.

"Too strong," Paul complained. "Sheíll be off in a second. I had hardly left her before she came last time," he explained, "I would have stayed to watch more but you were waiting. Iím sure she had come at least three times before I left completely. Perhaps I should have gone back and stopped it?"

Fransesca froze. He had already seen her climax! She had not realised how quick the orgasm had flooded over her, she had been too content with enjoying it and then absorbed with trying to stop it. Ah well, she thought ruefully, it makes this one less of a spectacle. Her anger seemed to dissipate. What the hell were they doing now?

Matt and Paul had dismantled the controller and were staring at it intently.

"If we take out one of the batteries," Paul was saying, "it will reduce the power."

"Weíll have to short out the other side," Matt confirmed, "Iíve got some wiring in the garage," He said disappearing down the Hallway.

"In the meantime why not give her tits a suck or something? You can take those clips off, they're only for decoration."

Fransesca did not agree. Her nipples were now very sensitive. She was not too sure about allowing Paul to molest her either. Hadnít that been what started the whole thing off? There was no way to stop him and her muffled complaints were not going to have any effect.

Paul seemed a little circumspect, removing the clips as gently as possible.

"I missed out on this last time," he purred in her ear.

Her nipples were hard and he rubbed them with the palms of his hands. Fransesca moaned uncontrollably. Encouraged Paul closed his mouth over her left breast and flicked her nipple with his tongue. Fransesca could only accept this stimulation, her hands clenching and unclenching, her knees turning to jelly. Damn her body! She was desperate to resist. She could not submit to Paul! Unfortunately her body had other ideas.

Paul on the other hand seemed preoccupied with her body, almost as if he did not know her. His eyes never met hers, and he said not another word. He knew his way around a womanís body though. His hands and his tongue touched her in all the right places. Fransesca jumped and mewed but nothing was gong to distract him from his investigations

The ropes were the only thing holding her upright, but hold her they did.† Suddenly the sensations stopped as Matt returned. She did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed. There was a prolonged delay while they fiddled with the wire and the battery. She felt a few brief vibrations as they manipulated and twisted. Eventually Matt seemed satisfied. Paulís hand returned to her crotch. There was a delay then a very faint vibration.

"Brilliant!" Paul exclaimed. "That should make things more interesting.

Once again Fransesca could not agree. The vibration was hardly noticeable but she could feel her pussy getting wet even so. She was desperate for more but there was no way to increase the pressure or the vibration.

They worked on her for what seemed like an eternity, rubbing, sucking, kissing, and of course tickling. They had not overlooked this form of torture and only stopped when she went red in the face and seemed to be struggling to breathe. She was now very hot but this time it was sweat not lust or anger. She was also tiring from all the attention and her continued struggles. Her senses were overloaded but she was nowhere near reaching orgasm. She was desperate for release but they were in no hurry. The vibrator was turned up a notch, but it was still not going to satisfy her. Her tits felt like they had been sucked dry and all she could do was moan and take it. She was an entertainment for them, jerking and bucking to their touch and they were like a couple of schoolboys with a new toy, laughing and giggling at her reactions. There was no love, and no indication that she was anything other than an object to be played with. Yet underneath Fransesca prayed it would never end. Despite everything she was in heaven.

At one point Matt knelt down and licked behind her thigh and she felt like she would hit the roof. Paul tickled her under the arms; someone even licked the back of her neck and behind her ears making her shiver from head to toe. She lost track of who was doing what and screwed her eyes up as if it would somehow make it stop. It didn't of course but she was no longer flinging her head around trying to work out what they were doing. She jumped at every touch and shouted into the gag but her complaints were ignored. Suddenly there was more vibration but it was still no where near as powerful as before. With her legs lashed together she would not make it, but she had no way to tell them this. Furthermore she was running out of energy, all this fighting and struggling was taking its toll. She vaguely wondered whether she could get too tired to have an orgasm, but her body was still reacting even if her struggling was getting weaker. Her heaven was turning into hell. She had had enough.

Suddenly they stopped. She could see no reason for it. It was almost as if they had got bored.

There was nothing but the slow throb of the vibrator now, and she mewed dissatisfaction. They did not understand. They took her writhing as enjoyment not frustration. Her body was tingling from all the attention and she was now desperate for release in all senses of the word. She wanted the orgasm and she wanted to be set free.

"That was fun" Said Matt, "donít you agree Fransesca?"

Her answer would not have been very polite had she been able to make it. Her indignance returned for a second, but truth was it had been fantastic. Fransesca was now thankful for the gag. Matt must never know!

"We could leave her to stew a bit more," he continued to Paul. Fransescaís movements made her thoughts perfectly clear. Unfortunately she was in no position to dictate proceedings. If they wanted to leave her, she could not stop them. As it was the vibrator was fanning her desires without offering any sort of release.

"Perhaps we had better put the other battery back," Paul eventually suggested. "I don't think she is going to get there otherwise. Sheís one tough cookie. Iím sure I could not take such stimulation for so long."

The expectation was incredible. For what must have been at least a minute she was free of all stimulation but her body was as tense as a drum. Suddenly the familiar feeling hit her. The vibrator was on full. Someone rubbed her nipples, she did not care who, the orgasm was coming and she was welcoming it.

The release was shrill, even with the gag still in place. Her pelvis flexed forward and she banged her bottom hard against the stairs. She no longer cared who was watching. She was lost in her orgasm and it was long overdue. She bathed in the sensations as the butterfly encouraged her to greater heights. They stopped it before she was finished, but she did not mind really. It had been worth the wait.

With all stimulation stopped she just slumped hanging by her still tightly bound hands. She was truly exhausted. They let her down gently. She was only vaguely aware of being untied, and did not know if it was just Matt who touched her or whether Paul assisted. She was more conscious of being naked but there was little point in trying to cover herself with her now free hands. She was still embarrassed of course, but it was too late for all that.

She never heard what happened after that, she struggled upstairs for a shower and a lie down, her legs like jelly. Despite her earlier wash she now felt dirty. She had been used and abused. Yet in all truth she had told Matt to do just that. He had of course betrayed her. He must know it? As she sank into bed the events of the evening played over in her mind. She was exhausted and her eyes would not stay open. She was not even aware of Matt sliding in beside her. He was not there when she awoke either; maybe he had slept on the spare bed just in case.

A bargain is a bargain even though this had been made under extreme duress. There would be no retribution from her. The truth was despite everything she had enjoyed it. She now considered the possibility of including Paul in their games and what of his wife? Fransesca was sure that she would be upset if Matt started disappearing off to play with another woman. Even if there was no actual sex, it was tantamount to an affair.

The one thing that she now realised was there had to be some rules, not just for her enjoyment but also her dignity and safety. She had had enough surprises for this week. They would have to have a serious talk she decided.

She would also have to instruct Matt about the proper use of gags and invent a new safety for when they were in use. She vaguely remembered reading about people humming a tune like "Rule Brittania" or something. All very well, but tonight she would not have had the presence of mind to hum anything!

Vulnerability? Fransesca had never really considered this side of their activities. She had thought that she was somehow in control of things. It was clear that that was no longer the case. She had to rely on Matt for her safety and dignity. Matt had proved that he was prepared to ignore her dignity. What about her safety? They needed that discussion.