The Bet bondage story | wax, slave, stockings

Tania stretched out deliciously on her bed. The ticklish feeling of her satin nightdress against her tights and stomach was emphasized by the smooth feel of the leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She experimented with bending her head towards her left wrist, but the muscles in her right arm pulled her up before her pouting mouth was within a foot of the strap.

A tight Lycra bag earlier placed over Tania's head pressed lightly against her eyes and pulled her small prim nose slightly to the left. She tried to rub the blindfold off against the pillow, but the tight neck kept it firmly in place. She poked her tongue out and felt the size of the hole over her mouth. Just big enough to allow her to breath without any strain, but only as big as her mouth. It seemed to cling to her lips and move back and forward as she opened her mouth. Earplugs under the bag prevented nearly any sound reaching her ears.

The delicious feeling of both luxury and captivity overwhelmed her senses and she pulled excitingly against her four limbs, thrashing about on the bed to help her enjoy the feeling more and try and bring a little sensation from the nightdress she was wearing, against her sex. God, I wish he would either give it to me, or stick a vibrator in there, she thought with her soul aching for sex.

His hands gently caressed her left thigh and brushed lightly over her left breast before outlining her lips with his finger. I am so hot, she thought, I am going to explode soon. Using every inch of her willpower however, she kept her thoughts to herself and her mouth shut tight. She forced herself to remember her bet with her boyfriend.

‘Don’t you ever shut up from talking?’ Mike had said, laughing one day.

‘I can be quiet when I want to,’ she had caustically replied. ‘But that is not often.’

‘I bet that you couldn’t be quiet for 2 hours.’

‘Bet I could if I had to.’

‘Even if every inch of your body demanded you talk?’

‘Yes, but the incentive needs to be high.’

‘Ok, if you can stay quiet while I try and break your will for 2 hours, I will be your personal slave for a week.’

‘Great, my oven needs cleaning and the fridge is well overdue for defrosting, plus all my drapes need washing and the garden is well overgrown. That would take care of the first day,’ she had taunted.

‘Not so fast,’ he responded. ‘I get you to talk and you must pay the price.’

‘Name it, loser!’

‘For the next year, not only must you be my personal sex slave, you must forgo all trousers, shorts, and tights and only wear short dresses and skirts. If your dress is longer than mid thigh, then it is too long. Show those legs off, girl!’ he laughed.

‘What about frosty mornings in winter?’ she asked, although she already knew the answer.

‘Mini skirt material, but you may wear stockings, not pantyhose, but stockings and a garter belt! However no knickers as they might give you a sense of security.’

Tania giggled at the thought of a mini skirt, stockings and garter belt and a bare ass in a frost. Sure however, that her will power was stronger than he thought, she decided to up the stakes.

‘I agree only if during your week as a slave, you wear a French maid's uniform and I can have a party for all my girlfriends that you will serve at.’

They shook hands in solemn agreement.

Both had wide grins on their faces. Both expected to easily win the bet. They set the day of the test for that Saturday night.

Much to her amazement, the week passed at an agonisingly slow rate and Saturday never seemed to come. They had agreed not to even mention the bet until then and just let the days trickle by. Come Saturday evening after a slow meal and a couple of wines to relax themselves, Mike instructed her to go and shower and dress in her sexiest satin nightie.

By the time she had left the shower, he had arranged the leather padded restraints on the bed and invited her to “spread them”.

Willingly, Tania arranged herself on the bed and made sure the nightie was sitting just right over her outstretched legs. The feeling of helplessness that thrilled through her body as he tightened the last of the tie downs was total bliss. She wiggled appreciatively for his benefit, but in accordance with the rules of the bet, said nothing.

When Mike produced the Lycra bag and carefully enveloped her head with it she experienced a moment of doubt. This is a new wrinkle, she thought, But I LIKE it, she decided as the feeling of surrender increased 10 fold.

The next feeling brought her back to earth again; he was sliding her nightdress up her body inch by sensuous inch. First her tights were slowly uncovered, and then she felt her hips and waist exposed to the air. The dress slipped over her taut, firm breasts and her hardened nipples stood out in the night air. Finally she felt the dress being pulled over her head and as high up her arms, as it would allow in their outstretched position.

What next? she wondered. Tania quickly found out as a slippery sensation passed between her legs and entered her already wet pussy. It felt like a deflated balloon, and she soon discovered that was very similar to what it was. Suddenly the balloon started to inflate and her world exploded in sensation as what seemed like a million small fingers touched every part of her most sensitive parts. She bit back a comment and clenched her fingernails into her palms to calm herself.

Not sooner than the sensation had reached a climax and she felt the device deflate and restart the cycle. Not only that; on the second cycle, it vibrated vigorously before deflating. She started to count the seconds between cycles as well as the seconds before her mounting orgasm would explode. How she never moaned or made a sound as the orgasm blew her mind, she never knew. She felt as thought her eyes might pop out, but kept the scream buttoned within her mouth.

Her boyfriend did not know it, but Tania was the most stubborn bitch to walk the planet, or at least so she claimed to herself. She would never give in to the male species of Homo Sapiens, even if Mike was the most wonderfully inventive bastard she had ever met, she admitted silently.

‘Give in or I will give you a wax job from your eyebrows down.’

Tania just shook her head.

No.

Suddenly the blindfold came off to reveal Mike’s smiling face. He laughed hilariously as he had a wax strip over her left leg. ‘Sure?’

Not even a threat,’ thought Tania who had been having leg waxes for years. It would merely save me some money, that's all!

To her surprise, he applied the wax strip, but did not remove it. He simply applied another strip and another strip and yet another strip forming a complete cast of wax strips from her waist down. What really worried her was that he had applied strips over her pubic hair. It looked like she was about to get her first Brazilian!

‘Unless you give in, these all come off in a constant stream.’ He paused for effect. ‘Slooooowwwlyy, hair by hair.’

Tania bit her lip and stared at the ceiling. Rip - went the first 10 centimetres. She bit harder. Rip - went the next 10 centimetres higher up her leg. She clenched her left hand. Rip - up to the left knee now. Both hands gripping the black satin sheet she lay on. Rip - both legs at once this time. Her eyes started to water. Rip - the start of her pubic hair started to go. Rip - her most delicate region was being laid bare. She would look like she was a little kid again. Rip - he finished her legs and waist.

More strips this time applied to her chest. That was piss easy; she just smiled at him as her tore them off.

Finally in amazement, Mike almost begged her not to make him wax off her eyebrows.

Tania thought long and hard about the outcome of losing her eyebrows. As with any woman, her appearance was important to her and she hated the “pencilled in” look. If she didn’t speak out she would be drawing in her eyebrows with an eyebrow pencil for weeks to come. What to do? Go on; being a slave will not be too bad, and you can brave the short skirts, she told herself.

Looking at him she made the big decision and ......

‘Please come on in.’ she invited her friends as they rang the doorbell, she paused...

‘My new maid Michele will take your coats.’ she said as she rang a little hand bell. ‘Michele.’ she called.

‘Yes maam.’ came the reply from a red faced Mike as he approached staggering slightly in his high heels. He was dressed in a typical French maid's frilly uniform, complete with – yep you guessed it - WAXED legs and pencilled in eyebrows.

She is the world's most stubborn bitch, he decided.