Wedding Bondage - Wedding Dresses Are A Threat. free porn video

Wedding Bondage (Complete)

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Copyright Oggbashan December 2009/April 2012

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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It started at Brian and Chloe’s wedding. Jane and I knew that Brian and Chloe were into mild bondage, changing their roles from time to time. Jane had joked about it.

“I wonder who will tie whom up tonight?” She whispered to me as we waited to greet the bride and groom at the reception. “Will it be Chloe spread-eagled on the bed, or Brian?”

“If it is Chloe, she’ll have to take her dress off first,” I whispered back. “That skirt is too slim for any access, unlike your wedding dress. I enjoyed making love to you wearing it.”

“I” Jane’s whisper was emphatic “I was wearing it, not you. You should not be so sloppy about your speech, Ian. You implied that you were wearing the wedding dress.”

Jane and I had a continuing joke about my spoken English. She was an English graduate. I had taken Science. She insisted that scientists should be precise in their speech and I wasn’t.

I looked carefully at Chloe’s dress as the reception line moved on. She was wearing a corset top in a rich blue over a softly d****d slim skirt with a short train. Her shoulders and arms were bare. Her breasts were pushed up so far that they were nearly falling out. They were an ‘in your face’ statement. Her veil, now thrown back over her head, had barely covered her chin. I had to admit that Chloe looked attractive. All brides should do on their wedding day yet…

Chloe had taken very small steps down the aisle. Her skirt was too tight for her to move freely. Kneeling at the altar had meant that she had to hitch the skirt up to uncover her knees. Her train had covered her from most of the congregation but Jane and I had been in the organ loft looking sideways at her. Jane had played the music; I had turned the pages for her. From our vantage point Chloe’s skirt hitch had been an inelegant move.

I thought back to our wedding, years ago. Jane’s dress had been massive. The design was simple and plain, a fitted bodice over a huge domed skirt with a long train falling from her shoulders. The bodice had a high neck, a scoop over her breasts in translucent chiffon and tight three-quarter sleeves. Jane wore lace fingerless gloves. Her veil had caused problems. It had been cathedral length and fell to the front hem of her skirt. Jane had been barely able to see as she walked down the aisle. She had sighed in relief when her father and I had lifted it up and arranged it. It had taken the two of us to manage the volume of it.

After we had greeted the happy pair, we moved on.

“Where is the wedding dress?” I asked.

“On Chloe.” replied Jane.

“I meant YOUR wedding dress,” I said.

“Then why didn’t you say so? It is in a safe place.”

“I’d like to see you in it again. I found it incredibly sexy.”

“I seem to remember that you spent half our wedding night under it kissing my pussy. That I enjoyed.”

“Then why don’t I do it again, perhaps taking a leaf out of Brian and Chloe’s book.”

“What DO you mean, Ian?” Jane said, arching her eyebrows.

“With a little light bondage, perhaps with you tied to the bed?”

“No…” Jane stopped. “Perhaps. You have given me some ideas. I enjoyed your attentions but the dress was a bore. I liked the attention at the wedding and it made me look glamorous…”

“You were beautiful. You still are.” I replied, giving Jane a hug.

“Maybe, but a wedding dress isn’t really comfortable especially with wide skirts and a train. It is difficult to walk in, the corset cuts into you, the skirts wrap round your legs…”

“But you look wonderful,” I retorted.

“Maybe, but is it worth it?”

“I thought it was. You looked like a goddess.”

“How could you tell? As I walked the aisle my veil was so opaque I could have been anybody. That was a mistake. I chose the veil for its decoration and didn’t really notice that no one could see me through it. I could see out but everything was a white blur. If it hadn’t been for my father’s arm, I wouldn’t have known where to go. I was glad when you lifted it and I could see clearly.”

“It added to the effect…” I tried to suggest. I should have known better. Jane was getting annoyed.

“It was OK for you. You just wore a different style of suit. You still wear it. You wore it last month when you were an usher at Alan’s wedding. I’ll never wear that dress again and I wouldn’t want to.”

My heart sank. I had become aroused by the idea of repeating our wedding night. Jane noticed my disappointment.

“OK. OK. I’ll wear it for you but there will be conditions. Are you willing to accept them?”

“Yes.” I was too excited by the vision of Jane wearing her wedding dress to think clearly.

“You haven’t heard them. You might want to change your mind.”

“I’m sure I won’t, Jane.”

“No? Then here they are. One. I won’t be tied up when I’m wearing the dress. You will be.”

I nodded.

“You agree?”

“Yes,” I said aloud.

“Then you have already agreed to my second condition. YOU will be tied up and you will wear my wedding dress. You should listen more carefully.”

“But…”

“You agreed.”

“You tricked me.”

“Probably. But you agreed. Want to change your mind?”

I thought for a few seconds. It couldn’t be too bad to be tied up or to wear Jane’s wedding dress. It would fit because we are the same height and my build is slighter than hers. I could endure that for a night of making love to Jane while she wore that dress. I had tongued her for hours on our first night as husband and wife. I had helped her reach a whole succession of shattering orgasms. I had been very aware of each of them; enclosed within her bridal dress, Jane was my whole world. Her skirt and petticoats excluded all other sensations. Every slight change in her body had directly impacted on me. It had been such an intense experience that I would have accepted almost any condition to have a chance of repeating it. She had repaid the orgasms by straddling me, swamping me under her skirts and riding me to blissful exhaustion.

“No, I won’t change my mind. I accept your condition.” I said.

“Two conditions,”

“Two conditions.” I agreed.

“OK, Ian. When we get home this evening, I’ll wear the dress and you will be tied up. Tomorrow evening you’ll wear the dress and you will be tied up, again.”

My eyes opened wide. Jane laughed at me.

“That’s settled. Let’s change the subject. Who do you think will run today’s marriage? Who will be the dominant partner, Brian or Chloe? Want to bet on it?”

“No bets. You and I know who will do the tying up and who will be the dominant partner.”

“Chloe,” we said together.

“But Brian won’t wear her wedding dress,” said Jane. “It’s too small.”

“He might wear a bridesmaid’s dress. Angela is his size.” I said nodding my head towards the statuesque figure of Chloe’s best friend, dressed in a powder blue shepherdess dress.

“I think you are right,” mused Jane. “I know that Angela is giving the dress back to Chloe. I had wondered why.”

“That bow on the back could tie his wrists…” I said.

“…and that mobcap could be a blindfold and gag…” added Jane. “…and I could think of things to do with that large apron.”

We giggled like guilty schoolgirls.

I started thinking about the bridesmaids’ dresses at this wedding and at ours. Chloe’s bridesmaids were wearing simplified shepherdess dresses, an overdress in powder blue, fitted above and flaring over a wide white underskirt below. The shape was similar to Jane’s wedding dress and nearly as simple. The neckline was high. Over the overskirt was a white apron decorated with broderie anglaise edging and tied in a large bow at the waist. The bridesmaids looked attractive yet their breasts were severely concealed. Chloe looked much slimmer and her breasts were prominent. I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t have preferred her to wear a similar style to her bridesmaids. As it was, it looked as if she had made her friends look much larger to accentuate the contrast with her slim outline and brazen breast display.

At our wedding, Jane’s friends had also worn powder blue but almost identical dresses to Jane’s except for the veil and train. Their assets had been hinted at, just like Jane’s breasts. In our wedding photographs five beautiful women were recorded. Chloe’s friends might look dated and out of place. Was I being unfair to Chloe or had she arranged the effect deliberately?

We enjoyed the rest of the reception, meeting our friends, most of whom agreed that Chloe would be running Brian. Cecily told us that one whole evening recently Brian had been leashed on his hands and knees at Chloe’s side with his head encased in a hood. She had even ridden him while hitting his backside with a riding crop.

That evening I had showered and waited in our bedroom wearing just my boxer shorts while Jane showered as well. I sat on our massive bed. It had been a present from Jane’s parents. It was like a four-poster but with only two vertical posts, one each at the centre of the head and foot of the bed. The white enamelled posts decorated with golden finials were steel tubes about three inches in diameter supporting a padded canopy. Around the edge of the canopy were rails for the voile curtains. When drawn back the curtains were against each side of the posts. Radiating from the posts were arches of smaller tubes with vertical rails. The bed was solid and never moved whatever we did on it. Normally we didn’t hang the curtains because they attracted dust and needed washing fortnightly.

Jane had spread her wedding dress and all the petticoats across the bed. I felt the heavy silk of her skirt. It was as sensuous as I remembered. I moved my hand guiltily as Jane walked into the bedroom wearing a cotton wrap.

“You are going to have to help me dress, Ian,” she announced. “Putting on a wedding gown needs assistance.”

She unwrapped herself to show her corset, white stockings and lacy panties.

“Lace me up at the back.” She ordered.

I tightened the corset laces until she was satisfied. She slid on a long slip then layer after layer of soft flounced petticoats. The petticoats were a struggle to arrange properly and I had to ease the filmy layers down one by one.

Jane lifted her arms through the stiff underskirt and smoothed it down. The net petticoats had a drawstring. Jane fluffed out the yards of net while I tied the waistband. I raised the massive folds of silken dress over her head and we arranged it before I zipped up the back. It had a high neck but the bodice was translucent to the top of breasts, showing their rounded fullness pushed up by the corset.

“I’ll leave the gloves off for a while,” Jane said. “I need my fingers to get you ready. Turn round, hands behind your back.”

She pulled a pair of rolled pantyhose tight around my waist and knotted them behind my back. She tied my wrists with the pantyhose, knotting them to the waist tie.

“Try getting out of that,” Jane said.

I struggled but the bonds just tightened. I felt excited by my helplessness.

“Good,” she said.

She pulled my boxers down and off.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” she ordered.

I sat.

Jane tied my ankles together with a white stocking, and then bound my knees together with another. With each added bond I felt warmer inside as I surrendered control to Jane. Jane had never tied me up before. If I felt like this with so little, how much more could I feel when I was completely helpless?

“Lie on the bed.”

I rolled on to the bed, swinging my legs up. Jane pushed me face down. She took another stocking and tied my elbows tightly together, pushing them beyond their comfortable position.

“Hey!” I protested, turning my head towards her.

Jane swung a mass of her skirts and petticoats over my head and pushed them into my face. I was in instant darkness despite all the layers being white.

“Shut up! You agreed.”

I couldn’t answer except with a ‘Mmmph’ through the soft layers. I felt Jane move and then uncover my face. I opened my mouth. She filled it with the sensible cotton panties she had been wearing all day. I couldn’t say a word or object to whatever she did from now onwards. I was worried. We hadn’t agreed a safe word or signal. I knew we should have done but I had lost the opportunity. Either I trusted my wife or I didn’t. If I didn’t I was in real trouble.

“MMM!” I tried to yell. Another white stocking wrapped around my head pulling her panties in. She knotted it once, brought the ends round and knotted it again across my mouth. She rolled me to my back. I wriggled on the bed, trying to dislodge the gag and get free from my bondage.

“I think you are stuck like that, Ian. Just a couple more touches.”

She disappeared from my view. I felt something being passed between my legs above the ankle tie. I lifted my body from the bed and looked down. Jane was tying a pantyhose bond to the bottom of the bed. She straddled me as she moved up the bed. Her dress and petticoats slithered over my skin. My prick rose as her clothing caressed it. My surrender had aroused sensations I had never known before.

“Like it?” she said, stopping just before her dress covered my face.

I nodded. She grasped her skirt and petticoats in both hands and swished them across my torso. Then I was swamped under them as she bent forward and looped another pair of pantyhose around the bed rail at the top of the bed. I was enjoying her scent in total blindness under the rustling layers. She uncovered me as she fed the legs of the pantyhose under my armpits before tying them together behind my back. I was now secured to both the top and bottom of the bed. I couldn’t roll off. I was too stretched to buck effectively. My arms were digging into my back under her weight.

Jane settled back across my hips. Her dress just cleared my mouth. From my chin to beyond my ankles I was covered with white silk and foaming petticoats. Her knees pressed against my sides, through more layers of petticoats. Jane may have been wearing the dress, but I was almost completely concealed under it. A small flip of her skirt hem and I would be invisible. My wife had surrounded and swamped me, and I was completely at her mercy. Would she be merciful? I didn’t know.

My erection was painful. It was trying to rise against Jane’s pussy but was held down by layers of spread petticoats. Even if it got through them she was still wearing her lace panties. I shook my head in frustration. Jane pushed back against my throbbing tool.

“Enjoying this?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s what you wanted.”

She lifted her skirt and several layers of petticoats and crushed them down across my face. Her hands sought my nose and through the layers she pinched my nostrils shut. I heaved and strained against my bonds in vain. I was running out of breath when she released her hold. I panted through my nose. She pinched it closed again and held it shut for longer.

When she released me she pulled the petticoats off my face.

“Now I want you to eat pussy until I’m satisfied. OK?”

I nodded weakly. I had been frightened more than I wanted to admit by the lack of breath. It had been a game but Jane could make it serious at any time. Yet I was still aroused by my impotence against her control.

Jane climbed off the bed. I turned my head to see her put her lacy panties down. She climbed back on the bed, untied the stocking around my mouth and pulled out the sodden cotton panties. I worked my mouth. I would have spoken but she put her hand over my mouth.

She lifted my head and piled the pillows under it so that my head was at an angle. She hitched up her massive skirt and petticoats and edged up the bed until her pussy was inches from my face. She grabbed the bedhead and lifted her body before lowering it right over my mouth. My tongue reached out for her warm wetness and sank in as her weight pressed me down. She buried my head under her skirt and petticoats as I started arousing her. I had to feel with my tongue because I couldn’t see a thing inside the rustling enclosure.

As I worked, her hands cradled my head, directing my tongue to the place that pleased her best. I breathed hard through my nose under the stifling scented layers of slithering feminine garments. My erection was becoming insistent in its demands for attention. I tried to divert my mind from the arousal caused by Jane’s scent and touch. I thought about my position. That was worse. Jane’s complete control washed over me like an orgasm. I was surrounded and enclosed by her, from actively involved head to passive feet. I had never felt so wrapped within her love, not even on the first night of our honeymoon when I spent many hours on my knees with my tongue buried in her pussy. Then I could have withdrawn at any time. Now I was bound and helpless, totally dependent on Jane’s whim.

I was straining to hold back and my concentration on pleasing Jane was wavering. She sensed how close I was to disaster. With a sudden movement she gathered up her voluminous petticoats and moved down my body to engulf my erection. I slid into her warm pussy with relief and exploded into action instantly.

Jane smiled down at me.

“Never mind, Ian. You can do that again – later. I should have drained you earlier. Now that is done you can get back to work.”

Her cum-dripping pussy poised over my face. I licked and swallowed before starting to arouse her again. She ground her pussy into my face. I remember that Jane rode me to emission several times during the night but I have no idea how long I was trapped under her enveloping dress. Sometime I went to sleep with my mouth still touching her pussy.

I woke up with my mouth still covered by her dress and her hair splayed across my face. She flicked it aside and kissed me.

She had to untie me before I could help her shed the wedding dress. It took even longer to remove all the petticoats than putting them on. The creases had to be shaken out and each one carefully hung up. The dress had to be eased into its bag so that the hem was fully extended.

Tomorrow night I’ll be wearing that wedding dress, and bound by Jane.

Chapter 02

Jane went out next day while I was beginning to prepare our evening meal. She didn’t tell me where she was going. She just said she would be gone for an hour. She left carrying an empty suitcase. She returned with it full but told me not to touch it. She told me to stay out of the bedroom until she was ready for me.


I made a real effort with that meal. I cook for us frequently but normally I do the less complicated meals. Jane is a better cook than I am. We enjoyed a candlelit dinner with enough good wine to get us happy but not drunk. I loaded the dishwasher before we sat down to finish the wine. I waited for Jane to make the first move, just enjoying a quiet evening together. I was still excited by the events of last night and wondering what Jane had planned for tonight.

She had tricked me into agreeing to be tied up in her wedding dress tonight. I wondered why. I wasn’t into cross-dressing. I like soft silky fabrics on her. I had enjoyed her body last night even though I was a passive partner, lashed to the bed and swamped under layers of her bridal attire. Would tonight be as good? I didn’t know.

Eventually Jane announced:

“I’m going to shower. When I have finished, you shower and come to the bedroom naked. I’ll be waiting for you but make sure you don’t skip the shower. I want you clean inside my dress.”

She stood up and left the room as soon as I had nodded.

When I heard her leave the bathroom I went upstairs and showered. I ran the shower colder than usual to stop my erection getting out of hand too soon. Last night’s first climax had been too fast.

In the bedroom I noticed that Jane had hung the voile curtains to the bed. I didn’t ask why. I was too busy looking at her. She was wearing her ‘honeymoon’ nightdress, a simple vest topped swirling expanse of white silk that shivered as she moved. That nightdress always gave me an erection, even lying in a heap waiting to be washed. On Jane it was always devastating, especially when as now her erect nipples pushed against the fabric.

Jane fitted her corset to me. She pushed her knee into my back as she tightened the lacing. Then she asked me to empty my lungs and tightened again. I could hardly breathe when she had finished. I sat on the bed as she rolled white stockings up my legs and attached them to the corset’s suspenders.

From that suitcase she produced a padded bra. I fed my arms through the straps. As Jane fastened it at the back I felt the drag of heavy weights against my skin.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“Cecily lent it to me, - and some other things. It is designed to give the correct feel of large breasts. Works, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. If this was what it was like to have big tits I wasn’t sure I liked them on me.

The long slip caught on the bra. Jane tugged it down. My stride would be restricted to half the normal by its narrow hem. As Jane loaded my lower half with petticoat after petticoat they compressed the slip closer around my legs. My tool slid against it and rose.

The heavy underskirt and the nets pushed me away from the bed. If I wanted to walk I would have to overcome the resistance of the masses of soft clinging fabric around my legs.

“Put these on,” ordered Jane, holding out a pair of long white gloves.

“Eh?” I said. These gloves weren’t part of her wedding outfit.

“Put them on, please. I don’t want your nails catching on anything.”

That sounded reasonable. My nails aren’t bad but they are nothing like Jane’s near perfect ovals. I held out my arms. Jane pulled the gloves above my elbows and buttoned them. I realised that she had adapted them. The fingers and thumbs were sewn together. I had little movement in them. I might have protested but I had agreed to being tied up in this dress. What difference would a pair of gloves make?

The dress was a struggle. I couldn’t help Jane as she had helped me when I dressed her last night. When settled in place she zipped it up. The collar closed around my throat. I looked down. My false breasts showed through the top of the bodice and then I couldn’t see my waist underneath them. The skirt, distended by so many petticoats, spread out around me and the hem splayed across the floor. Yet the material pressing around them constricted my legs. I might be able to walk, but only with great care.

I noticed something about the gloves. Now the dress was on me, the tight three-quarter length sleeves were over most of the gloves. Even if my fingers had not been constrained I couldn’t remove the gloves without taking the dress off first. Jane pulled my arms behind my back. Her fingers worked at my wrists. I hadn’t noticed that the gloves had a silk band buckled at the wrist. I knew now. Jane had threaded one band through the other and tightened them. My wrists were buckled together behind my back. She pushed me to stand with my back to the pole at the foot of the bed.

Out of my sight she took something from the suitcase. I felt softness around my wrists and then two metallic clicks. I twisted but I couldn’t see what she had done. I looked at her.

“Fur lined handcuffs,” she said.

“Another loan from Cecily?” I asked.

“Yes. She has been very helpful.”

I tried to pull against the handcuffs. I found that they were looped around the pole. I was handcuffed to the bed.

“The dress doesn’t look right without shoes. You aren’t tall enough. Lift your left foot,” Jane ordered.

I lifted my stockinged foot. Jane knelt down and burrowed under the massive dome of skirt and petticoats.

“Higher” she insisted.

I lifted it higher. Jane slipped a shoe on. I lowered my foot and would have fallen forward except for the handcuffs jerking me back.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“Don’t be a wimp. They are only three-inch heels. Lift your right foot.”

I obeyed. Perhaps I would be better balanced on two shoes.

Jane wrapped the straps around my ankles and tightened them. She had buckled the shoes together and my ankle bones met. She dropped my skirt and petticoats and stood up. The skirt shivered and shook as I tried to cope with the unfamiliar sensation of high heels.

“Keep still!” hissed Jane.

She lifted the veil off the bed and tried to attach its band to my head. It wouldn’t grip on my short hair.

“Cecily thought that might happen.” she said.

She went back to the suitcase. My eyes open wide as she lifted out a blonde wig.

“No…” I started to say.

“Shut up!” Jane cut in. “I’m putting the veil on you and this is the only way it will stay put.”

She fitted the wig to my head and pressed it firmly in place. The tape stuck across my forehead and at the nape of my neck. She tried the veil again. This time the prongs on its band locked into the wig’s bulky hair. Both layers were hanging down my back to one side of my cuffed hands. Jane lifted it forward and down the front of me to the ground. Only then did I realise how little she had seen as she walked down the aisle towards me. I could make out shapes through the white blur but I couldn’t identify anything.

I heard Jane move away. I flinched as a camera flash shone through the veil. Jane took several pictures then looped up the skirt and petticoats on a chair while she took pictures of my strapped feet. She crawled under the wedding dress to take pictures of my tool swathed in white petticoats. I was protesting vehemently but she ignored me.

Jane emerged and let the skirt fall back down.

“Nearly done,” she announced. “Just a few more touches.”

She wrapped something soft around my elbows and pulled them together before tying them to the pole. She wrapped the back d**** of the veil around my arms with several turns.

She threw back the veil and kissed me hard on the lips. I enjoyed her tongue pressing into my mouth. Her hand grasped my erection through the coverings. As she pulled back from the kiss my mouth stayed open. She filled it with a white ball plug, forcing it in hard. I gulped as my mouth reacted to the intrusion.

Jane buckled the white straps to my head and heaved. The ball slid behind my teeth before she fastened it in place. She stood back and took more pictures.

She held a white sleep mask to my face. I shook my head. She laughed as she covered my eyes. Even with the veil lifted I couldn’t see. I felt her lift the skirt and petticoats again. Her soft lips closed around my erection and she began to suck. She did this so rarely yet every time she played me like the fine musician she is. She pushed me to the limit and then slowed to prolong my agony. She had never played my instrument so well.

I groaned against the ball-gag as she raised me to a final peak of excitement. I was wriggling in my bonds and the wedding dress was shaking like a tree in a gale before I came into her greedy mouth. She left me standing for a few seconds and then dived back into the domed skirt.

My flaccid tool felt her slide it into what seemed to be a heavy condom. Her hands edged around my buns and attached some kind of panty harness. The condom was locked on me. She strapped something to the outside of my left leg before she stood up again.

She unfastened my blindfold and looked into my eyes.

“I’ve done,” she said. “You are wearing a urinary drain. If you want to piss – you can. It will run into the bag on your leg. If you want to cum – you can. The device will catch it. I don’t want you staining my petticoats or dress. You are tied in my wedding dress. That is what you agreed to and that is what you have got. As for me? I’m going to bed to sleep. I might, only might, release you in the morning. Enjoy yourself.”

As she was replacing the blindfold and dropping the veil I was shaking my head frantically. She took no notice. I heard her climb into bed and switch off the light.

I was angry and frustrated. Jane had tricked me into this ridiculous situation. I shook my hands against the pole. The cuffs dug into my wrists and I nearly fell off my shoes. My ankles were aching already. What would they be like if I stayed like this? I shook my head and hurled it hard against the pole. The wig and veil cushioned the impact to a soft thump.

I tried to kneel down to take the pressure off my ankles. My wrists caught on the arch of the bed structure. I stood up again shakily. I was fixed in a very uncomfortable position with no way out.

I was still angry but now I was getting scared as well. Could I breathe through my nose all night? Each breath strained against the clinging corset so tightly clamped around me. Could I bear the ball jammed tight into my mouth? Would my ankles stand the twisting pressure of the high heeled shoes? Jane had made me completely helpless and unable to escape the pain of my position. The humiliation was bad enough but I wasn’t sure I could stand the pain indefinitely. I shook my head again in irritation with myself. I didn’t think Jane had meant me to be in so much pain.

Or had she? That thought came unbidden but wouldn’t go away. What I had I done that she wanted to punish me this much? I couldn’t think of anything that deserved this. Perhaps I didn’t deserve it and Jane had done it just because she could. That was more frightening. How much did I really know about my wife’s desires and secret fantasies? She hadn’t done anything like this before. Was I the unwilling object of a control fantasy that she wanted to try? I didn’t think she was a sadist but she might have been waiting for an opportunity to show me. She must have planned the scenario for some time if she had borrowed bondage items from Cecily.

I had no idea how long I had been standing there with the pain of my ankles, my mouth and the drag on my chest growing worse. I tried diverting my mind away from the pain but like a toothache that is right inside your head the pain in my mouth dragged me back to the unbelievable reality. The other hurts claimed my attention as soon as I felt the ball gag.

I tried to think of the beauty of Jane’s wedding dress. I breathed her perfume every time I inhaled. I could feel the seductive grasp of the silk stockings, the flow of the soft petticoats over my legs, the heavy silk against the skin of my shoulders and arms and even the high collar caressing my neck. If this dress had been on Jane I couldn’t avoid an instantaneous erection. On me it was just a beautiful seeming prison or an enveloping cloak covering my bonds. I knew that Jane’s photographs wouldn’t show my restraints, nor would they be visible to anyone else. They might be biting cruelly into me yet they were invisible under the veil and the masses of skirt and petticoats. Despite the sensuous feel of the fabrics my potential erection shrivelled away. At first I had had some sense of excitement at being at Jane’s mercy and my implicit surrender but that had long gone as she left me trussed for what seemed to be hours.

My anger had gone. My fright grew with each passing minute. If Jane didn’t relent and release me I might not even live until the morning. I began to feel sorry for myself. Unbidden tears damped the blinding sleep mask. I was thoroughly miserable. The tears turned into sobs muffled by the ball gag. My silent grief continued until I was past exhaustion and nearing collapse. I couldn’t stop myself from slumping down the pole and leaning drunkenly forward, held up only by my wrenched arms.

Jane raised the veil, peeled away the damp sleep mask and kissed my eyes. I scarcely felt her prise the ball gag from my mouth and lift the veil and wig from my head. She untied my arms from the pole, freed my prick from its sheath and removed the shoes. She pulled, nearly carried, me to the bed and held my sobbing head against her silk sheathed breasts murmuring unheard endearments to me. I was aware of her surrounding love but barely conscious as I relaxed against her soothing breasts and dropped into a healing sleep.

When I woke the next morning I was undressed. How Jane had achieved that I have no idea. It must have been a massive effort to remove everything from my u*********s body. She was naked and I was sucking on her warm soft breast. I tried to move away but her arm closed around my head and held me gently in place. I raised my eyes to her face. She smiled at me.

“Sorry, Ian,” she said. “I went to sleep. I didn’t mean to leave you more than a few minutes; just long enough for you to appreciate your helplessness.”

I couldn’t comment. Her breast still filled my mouth.

“You said so often that you found being under my bridal dress such an intense experience that I wanted to try it. That is why I tricked you into wearing it. You were right. While I was sucking you last night I could concentrate fully. Under that skirt all I had was one thing to do and no distractions. You were wonderful that first night. Now I know why.”

She let her arm fall away from my head and pulled her breast out of my mouth gently as she continued:

“I thought you were attracted to the dress. When I saw you stroking the silk of my skirt last night I was annoyed. I thought you saw the packaging not the contents. I tied you up harder than I had originally intended to show you that the dress is just a dress. I wanted you to hate it. When I crawled under it I knew why you wanted me to wear it. Any full heavy skirt would work almost as well, wouldn’t it?”

I nodded.

“Yet the petticoats and silk against bare skin are great, aren’t they?”

I nodded again.

“I didn’t just go to sleep. When I climbed into bed I was so aroused that I fingered myself to an orgasm before falling asleep. You were tied to the bed and totally at my mercy. The feeling of total control of you was great but not so great as I had experienced when I had my mouth full of you. The slightest touch of my tongue made your whole body shiver. That sort of control is better than bondage. I know I don’t need to tie you up to capture you. My lips do it much better, don’t they?”

I would have agreed but her lips covered mine. I surrendered to them – again.

When her mouth withdrew she looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. Her fingers ran over my face.

She shook her head as if to bring herself back to the present.

“Ready for breakfast, Ian?” she asked.

I nodded again.

Jane climbed out of bed. I followed her. She held out her hand to me. We walked into the kitchen holding hands like a couple of first time lovers.

I had enjoyed some of the night but I had a nagging doubt. How much did Cecily know? She had lent Jane some items to help with my bondage. How much had Jane told her? Did Cecily know everything?



Chapter 03

Later that morning the phone rang. Jane answered it in the living room.

“That was Cecily. She’s coming round to see us with a message from Chloe.”

“Message from Chloe? I would have thought she was too busy to send messages.”

“I thought so too. Cecily made a mystery of it. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone. She wants to talk to both of us.”

“Both of us?” Now I was really puzzled. I hardly knew Cecily except as one of Jane’s friends.

“That’s what she said, Ian. She is on her way. We had better get dressed.”

Jane looked pointedly at me. I was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. I looked at her. She was wearing translucent panties and a satin bra.

“I think you are right. We don’t want to shock Cecily by showing what long-married couples wear at home.”

“Like wedding dresses on the husband?” Jane teased.

“Shh! We keep quiet about that – please.”

“Spoilsport!” Jane retorted, putting her tongue out. I kissed it and her.

When Cecily arrived we were dressed modestly. Jane wore a column dress with side splits to the knee. I was wearing a sports shirt over chinos. I had to help Cecily bring a large suitcase from her car. We sat down in the living room with cups of coffee. Cecily splayed her wide cotton skirt around her.

“I don’t know how to start,” Cecily said.

We looked at her. She had a message to give us from Chloe. Surely that couldn’t be difficult?

“OK. I’ve thought of a way. Did you know that you were overheard at Chloe and Brian’s wedding? In the reception line up?”

Jane and I looked at each other. That conversation? About tying people up?

“You didn’t notice but Helen, Chloe’s cousin, was right behind you in the line up and followed you afterwards.”

That seemed possible. No one notices Helen while Chloe is around. Helen is a nice enough girl, petite and attractive, but a candle to Chloe’s flaming fire.

Cecily took a deep breath.

“Helen is one of our group, you know, the ones who are into bondage and submission.”

“Is she?” said Jane. “So?”

“She found your conversation interesting and told Chloe about it…”

We looked horrified. We had said some things about Chloe…

“…don’t worry. Chloe understands. She agreed with you two. Brian is the one who will be tied up and the submissive partner in the marriage. What Chloe and Helen were interested in was your ideas about wedding and bridesmaids’ dresses.”

We looked shocked. Cecily laughed at us.

“Come off it,” she said. “Don’t look like that. When Jane borrowed some interesting items from me, I knew that you two were experimenting. Did you enjoy it?”

Jane giggled. “Yes.”

I said nothing. Jane gave me one of those looks.

“Ian?” asked Cecily.

“Some of it,” I admitted reluctantly. “But what I might try at home is one thing. I don’t like the idea of others, even you, Cecily, knowing about it.”

“Too late, Ian,” Cecily retorted. “I know. Helen and Chloe have a good idea as well.”

“Oh shit!” I said.

Jane and Cecily laughed at me. Jane flung her arms around me and gave me a kiss.

“Never mind, Ian darling, they are our friends. They’ll be discreet.”

“Maybe, but I’m beginning to worry about Chloe’s message. I don’t think I am going to like it.”

I was right. I didn’t like Chloe’s message. We had been wrong about the reason for Angela returning her bridesmaid dress. Angela had nowhere to keep it in her small flat. Chloe had decided that she would try it on Brian as Jane and I had discussed. Cecily had brought Angela’s dress with her to discuss with us how it could be adapted to trap Brian. She had also brought another bridesmaid’s dress in MY size. The idea was that Jane and Cecily should try out the modifications on me. At that point I tried to leave. Jane held me back and hugged me tight. I could have struggled free but I admit it – the idea was exciting.

The worst was yet to come. Chloe wanted to arrange a bridal party in a month’s time. She, Jane, Cecily and Helen would bring their partners bound and dressed in wedding or bridesmaids’ dresses for a playful evening. Chloe couldn’t use her wedding dress. Apart from being, as we had said, the wrong shape, she had hired it and it had been returned.

Cecily explained that Chloe would use Angela’s bridesmaid dress on Brian. Jane could use her wedding dress on me. Jane objected. That dress was too valuable to her and complicated to get on and off. SHE didn’t object to me being bound and dressed but not in her wedding dress. They overruled my objections as irrelevant. I threatened to leave but they told me that if I tried I would be tied up now. I subsided. Jane is nearly a match for me. Jane and Cecily together would be too much. It would be an undignified struggle but I would lose. Whether or not I lost now, there was no way I would agree to go to that party as a bound bridesmaid. They couldn’t make me.

Cecily didn’t have a suitable dress for her Trevor. Did we have any suggestions? Jane went up to our attic room and returned with all the bridesmaids’ dresses from our wedding. Until this weekend I hadn’t known that she’d kept her wedding dress. Now I found that she had four bridesmaids’ dresses as well. What else didn’t I know?

They spread the dresses out all over the room. Six full-skirted dresses take up a lot of space. Cecily tried to find one to fit her Trevor but none would. They found one that would do for Helen’s Andy. Then they turned on me.

“Strip, Ian,” Jane ordered.

I demurred. I was able to negotiate the retention of my boxer shorts but stripped everything else off. Jane brought the suitcase from our bedroom. I submitted to the heavy padded bra and soon I was dressed as a shepherdess. I was wearing the three-inch heels again. Without them, the dress splayed over the floor and tripped me up. I found that I could walk in the heels if I was careful while my legs and hands were free and unfettered. That didn’t last long. Jane and Cecily tried to tie my hands with the bow of the apron but unsuccessfully. The material was too stiff to take a secure knot. I was able to wriggle my hands out every time. They were annoyed but compromised by using the padded handcuffs behind my back with the apron’s bow arranged to cover them.

I could still walk but I was finding it more difficult. Apart from the high heels tipping me forward, the heavy ‘breasts’ unbalanced me. They ordered me to sit down. Jane buckled the shoe straps together and swung my legs up on to the settee. She pulled the large mobcap over my face. I could still talk and see. Jane and Cecily left me while they argued how to adapt the mobcap. I tried to struggle free. I knew I couldn’t undo the handcuffs but I might be able to reach the shoes. I could and unbuckled them while they were sorting through the suitcases for suitable gags and blindfolds. I kicked the shoes off, quietly stood up and tried to escape to the kitchen. Jane caught me and pushed me back to the settee. This time they tied my ankles with a pair of tights. I protested. My protests were stifled with the ball gag.

To my horror, I heard Jane discussing with Cecily how intense she found the experience of giving me oral while confined under a skirt. Cecily asked for a demonstration. Jane burrowed under the skirt even though I was struggling to prevent her. Her lips closed around my erection. Cecily grinned at me as I tried to remain unmoved.

“Sorry, Ian, but I wanted to see,” she said quietly. “Now I’m going to show Jane something she hasn’t tried.”

I couldn’t stop her or warn Jane who was busy sucking. Cecily took a pair of pantyhose and wrapped them around the skirt, trapping Jane inside as she knotted them. Cecily fitted the discarded shoes to Jane’s thrashing legs and buckled them together. Jane couldn’t yell or speak. Her mouth was too full of me.

I was glaring at Cecily. She smiled at me. A mischievous smile that vanished as she settled her skirted rump against my face and leant forward to press Jane’s head onto my erection. Underneath her pressure and Jane’s ministrations, I could not hold back. I spurted into Jane’s mouth. Somehow she managed to swallow it all and as my erection subsided I faintly heard her yelling for Cecily to let her out. My mouth was still full of ball gag and my nose was smothered by Cecily’s skirt creased into her crack.

Cecily eased herself forward. I snorted for breath through my nose as I felt the pantyhose being untied around the skirt. Cecily shuffled down my body and trapped Jane, tying her wrists with the pantyhose before dragging a pinioned Jane out from under the shepherdess skirt and petticoats. Jane’s protests were suddenly stopped with a mouthful of Cecily’s skirt.

“Now, you two,” Cecily said, “I am in control. I could put you in any position, perhaps bound in a sixty-nine, and you couldn’t stop me.”

It was true. Cecily had us at her mercy. Jane was thrashing like a landed fish. The heels of her shoes were digging into the settee but her head was held tight in Cecily’s hands. I was struggling ineffectually under Cecily and Jane’s combined weight.

“I’ll set you free in exchange for an agreement from Ian that he will attend the party bound in a bridesmaid’s dress and leashed by Jane. If not…”

Cecily reached over to the side table and grabbed another ball gag. She started to fit it to Jane. Jane’s eyes pleaded with me. I nodded furiously.

“You’ll accept Chloe’s kind invitation, Ian?” Cecily asked.

I nodded again several times.

“You promise?”

I nodded again.

“Then I don’t need this.”

Cecily threw the ball gag back on the table and let her skirt fall away from Jane’s face. Jane gasped for air as Cecily untied the pantyhose and unbuckled the shoes. Jane sat on the settee beside my head and removed the ball gag from my mouth.

“Thank you for agreeing,” Jane said. “Cecily was smothering me.”

“That’s OK,” I said. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Even go to this party as you have agreed?”

“Yes. If you had really wanted me to, I’d have gone.”

“So Cecily and I didn’t have to go through this charade to persuade you?”

Jane and Cecily laughed at me. I was annoyed. I’d been set up. I calmed down as they untied me and undressed me. Both of them hugged and kissed me before Jane sat on my knees, resting her head against my shoulder.

I had agreed to go to their party and be humiliated in front of their friends. My only consolation was that some of the other husbands/boyfriends would suffer the same humiliation. I might even enjoy it. Or would I?

Chapter 04


Cecily and Helen were members of a bondage club of like-minded women who tied their men up in women’s clothing.

Jane and Cecily had persuaded me to allow Jane to take me to a party, bound while dressed as a bridesmaid. Chloe’s husband, Brian, was also due to attend. Chloe intended Brian to wear her large friend Angela’s bridesmaid dress. How Chloe meant to persuade Brian I didn’t know.

Jane and Cecily hadn’t been completely satisfied with using the Shepherdess Bridesmaid dress on me. I could see through the mob cap even when it was pulled down over my face, and the apron’s ties wouldn’t tie my hands. They needed to do some alterations and I would have to be the model and tester for their changes.

The next Sunday morning Cecily came to our house for a sewing session. Jane informed me that I would have to wait until they were ready for me. I settled down in my study with a DVD. About an hour later Jane called:

“Coffee’s ready!”

I paused the DVD and went into the living room. Almost every chair was covered with dresses or material. Cecily moved a bridesmaid’s dress to give me room to sit. Jane handed me the mug of coffee.

“We’re nearly ready for you to have the first fitting,” Jane said. “Drink your coffee and Cecily will explain what we’ve done.”

“We started on the apron’s ties,” Cecily said. “They are now longer and less stiff. They should take knots better than the original ones but we’re trying a variation. It can be uncomfortable if your hands are tied behind you…”

I nodded. I had experienced pain when Jane was on top of me and I was lying on my hands.

“…so we hope that we can keep your hands and arms beside you. We’ve produced a different mob cap. As you know, you could see through the one you wore. We hope that the new one will be an effective blindfold. We’ve been working on an adaptation of an item that our club has read about but never tried. You’ll be our guinea pig for that too.”

I sipped my coffee. I wasn’t too worried about exploring bondage with my wife Jane, but what did I know about Cecily and what she might do? Jane seemed to sense my unease.

“I’ll be doing the bondage. Unlike the first time, we should have a safe word. Cecily thinks it was unfair of me to tie you up without agreeing the parameters. If what I am doing becomes too uncomfortable, painful, or you just need a break, say ‘enough’. OK?”

I nodded. Perhaps Cecily wasn’t as scary as I had thought.

“If for some reason you can’t speak, flap your hands three times, stop, then three times again,” Cecily suggested.

I nodded again. Even better. A release sign even when I was gagged.

I finished the coffee and looked for somewhere to put the empty mug down. There wasn’t anywhere obvious. Cecily saw me hesitate.

“I’ll take that out to the kitchen while Jane gets you ready.”

Once she had left Jane stood up.

“OK, Ian, strip to your boxers and I’ll start dressing you to see whether our changes work.”

Once I had stripped she put a long slip on me, followed by a wide net petticoat that tied at the waist. She struggled to lift the heavy Shepherdess dress over my head, fed my arms down the sleeves, eased the dress down, and zipped it up at the back. She hadn’t used the padded bra so the bodice was strangely flat.

“Now, Ian, if you feel the skirt you should find a slit on each side. Put your hands into the slits. That’s it. Push your hands down as far as they will go without bending.”

My hands slid into pockets of heavy satin. I hadn’t remembered that the dress’s skirt was in several layers. My hands were between the heavy outer skirt and the stiffened underskirt yet I couldn’t feel either layer. The pocket material was thick, soft and sensuous. Jane knelt beside me. Her hands fumbled at the edges of the slits. When she had finished she stood up.

“Try pulling your hands out.”

I tried. All that happened was that the skirt lifted slightly. The satin had contracted around my wrists. It wasn’t uncomfortably tight but I couldn’t take my hands out of the pockets. I flapped my hands around. The heavy skirt moved slightly but layers of material impeded my movements.

“That looks OK,” Jane said “now for the apron.”

The white cotton apron had been tied at the waist. The altered one had a wide frilled bib and crossover straps with wide frills on the shoulders. The bib went inside my arms but on each side of the bib two straps hung. Jane buckled those straps, one above and one below my elbow on each side. Even if I could have taken my hands out the skirt’s pockets, my arms would still be secured.

The apron now had deep pockets on the hips. Why? Jane and Cecily wouldn’t have added the pockets without a reason.

Jane moved behind me to tie the crossover straps. The apron tightened around my waist. My arms were pulled closer to my sides. She knotted the streamers before arranging the rest in a bow.

“Ready for you now, Cecily,” she called.

Cecily came in from the kitchen.

“So far, so good,” Jane said. “Don’t you think so, Ian?”

“If you mean that my arms and hands are bound, then yes,” I replied.

“Show Cecily, please. Really try to get loose.”

I tried. The dress and apron swung around me as I exerted to free myself. I couldn’t. Although I could walk around, otherwise I was helpless. I had a nagging doubt that I wouldn’t be able to make the hands-flapping release signal, because the skirt and its satin-lined pockets would hide it, but what could I do? I trusted Jane, even after my uncomfortable experience when tied to the end of our bed dressed in her wedding finery. Jane’s enthusiastic love-making since that night had more than compensated for that ordeal.

“That seems effective,” Cecily said as she watched my futile struggles. “I’ll do the same modifications to Angela’s dress. Chloe has persuaded Brian to be fitted into it this afternoon.”

Cecily looked at her watch.

“Oops! I need to be there in about quarter of an hour. We’ve just got time to try the mob cap, then I’ll leave you two to play. I’ll be back about six o’clock.”

Jane picked up the mob cap. It looked almost unchanged until she turned it to show me the inside.

“Look, Ian, remember my white satin panties you used to like so much?”

Despite myself, I blushed slightly. Had Jane no secrets from Cecily? Jane had been wearing those white satin panties on the first night of our honeymoon. I had removed them with my teeth. We had repeated that many times and the panties had suffered. Now their remains were lining the mob cap.

Jane put the mob cap on my head as it would be worn normally. Then she yanked the front of it down over my face, hooding me in darkness. The white satin of the panties stroked my skin. She lifted the back hem of the cap. The frilled edge of the mob cap contracted around my neck. I wasn’t strangled, nor was the cap tight around my neck, but it wouldn’t lift over my chin. I was confined in a hood I couldn’t remove, unable to see, breathing through Jane’s old panties and surrounded by her perfume.

“OK, Jane,” I heard Cecily say, “that seems to work too. I’ll see you this evening if Brian is cooperative.”

Cecily’s hand patted my shoulder.

“Be good, Ian, but you haven’t much choice, have you? Bye.”

I was left standing in the middle of the room as Jane saw Cecily out. As soon as she returned she said:

“Stand still, Ian. I’ll get that hood off you.”

Jane’s hands went to the back of my neck. She released the strap holding the mob cap under my chin and pulled it off my head. That was a relief.

“Could you breathe?” Jane seemed concerned.

“Not very well. It was bearable for a short time but not for long.”

“I thought not. I liked the idea of using my old panties…”

“So did I…”

“…but they always were difficult for you to breathe through, weren’t they?”

I nodded. We had played many games with those panties.

“OK. I’ll change the lining and give you a lighter material over your mouth and nose. Would that be better?”

“Yes, please, Jane.”

“And now… You’re still helpless. Come and sit down on the settee.”

Jane had to help me to sit. I would have found it difficult with such massive skirts and pinioned arms.

“I had some material left over from the panties. I’ve made it into a gag for you. Don’t worry. It’s a cleave gag. You can hold it between your teeth and breathe, or even speak, around it.”

She was right. She put the soft satin in my mouth and fastened it behind my head just tight enough to hold it in place.

“The last item is a blindfold. There’s nothing special about it. It’s just my silk nightdress.”

It was. Jane tied it around my head covering my eyes. A thin layer hung loosely over my nose and mouth. I was breathing her perfume through her nightdress.

Jane burrowed under the massive dome of the skirts I was wearing. Her hands tugged at my boxers. I braced myself so that she pull them down and off. Her hands returned to gently stroke me to an erection that her soft lips engulfed.

I shuddered as her lips became more insistent. I wanted to grab her head and push it down. I couldn’t. My arms struggled vainly to get free. My hands flapped uselessly in their satin prisons. I panted around the cleave gag until my back arched with release.

Jane didn’t let me go. Her lips continued to surround my spent erection, teasing gently, slowly and softly. I relaxed and let her play for a long time. What else could I do? I might not be gagged into silence but I was imprisoned in the dress until she wanted to release me.

I marvelled again at Jane’s skill. In all the encounters I’d had before marrying Jane I had never met anyone who was as delicate with her mouth. Within a shorter time than I would have thought possible she had achieved her intention of arousing me again.

This time she took me to the brink again and again before denying me release. I would have been begging her to finish except that I knew the longer she played the better the end would be. It was. I slumped into an exhausted heap even though Jane had expended almost all the effort.

Jane’s head emerged from under my skirt. Her hair was damp with sweat.

“Right,” she said, “We’ll get you out and shower. We need it.”

We did. It took about quarter of an hour to strip the dress and petticoats off me. I was sufficiently recovered to enjoy showering with Jane. We washed each other everywhere before coupling in the shower. Then we had to soap each other again.

We had just dressed and returned to pile all the dresses on one chair in the living room when the doorbell rang. I looked at my watch. One o’clock.

“Cecily back?” I asked, “So soon?”

“No, it can’t be Cecily. You go.”

It was Helen.

“Can I come in?” She asked.

“Of course, Helen,” I replied. “You’re always welcome.”

She seemed to wince as I said that. Jane grabbed her for a hug. Helen hugged me. I like hugging and being hugged by Helen but I wouldn’t offer one in Jane’s presence. Helen may be petite but she is well endowed in the right places. Somehow Helen’s hugs seem to press ‘the right places’ hard against me.

“Has Cecily been here?” Helen asked. She glanced at the dresses heaped on the chair. “Oh. I can see she has.”

“Why do you ask?” I said.

“Well… I’m not sure where to start…”

“How about a coffee first?” Jane suggested.

“Yes please, but I need to talk to both of you about Cecily.”

“We could go into the kitchen,” I said.

Helen nodded. Once we had our coffee we perched on the kitchen stools. Helen sighed.

“You know I was standing behind you at Brian and Chloe’s wedding?”

“Cecily told us.” Jane replied.

“But I bet she didn’t tell you everything. She wouldn’t.” Helen seemed to be on the verge of tears. Jane hugged her.

“Bet. That’s the trouble.” Helen continued.

“You know Cecily and I are part of a bondage club?”

We nodded.

“Angela is as well, and other people you don’t know.”

“We’re going to a party in a couple of weeks,” Jane said.

“I know. It’s my fault.”

“Fault? Why is it your fault?” I asked.

“Cecily bet me that she’d persuade Brian and Chloe to come, and that I couldn’t persuade you two to come.”

“What was the stake?” Jane asked, frowning.

“Whoever loses has to be the other’s slave for a week. That would be hard on either of us because we are both doms. We hate playing sub.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, “if all four of us come to the party, you’ve both won, haven’t you? And no one has lost.”

“Not quite. Cecily and I will have cancelled out our bet but someone will have lost… You will have.”

“I think you had better explain that, Helen,” Jane said. “How do we lose?”

“It’s not really a party. It’s a meeting of our bondage club with a bridal theme this time. Newcomers to the club have to go through an induction ceremony. Cecily didn’t tell you that, did she?”

We shook our heads.

“She wouldn’t have. I had told Brian and Chloe last week. I didn’t have to say much. Chloe already knew about our club and was planning to join once Brian was her husband. Brian is possibly willing to undergo the initiation. Chloe has always been doubtful about that. She intends to be the dom in their marriage and doesn’t want to be humiliated. At least they know what to expect. You don’t.”

“But Cecily has been helping us, not you,” I objected. “Surely it should have been the other way round?”

“Has she really been helping?” Helen asked. “Think about it. I held off. I wasn’t sure you two would really want to join. Anyway, I had nearly forgotten the bet until this morning when Cecily reminded me and was serious about it.”

“So the bet is still on?” Jane asked.

“Yes. Cecily insists on it. And what I’m about to tell you could make me lose it.”

“Why did you make the bet?” I asked.

“Simple. Too much champagne at the wedding,” Helen replied. “There isn’t much of me and alcohol affects me more than someone larger. Cecily played on that, as she has been playing on you. I’ll tell you what I think she’s probably done. You can confirm or deny when I’ve finished. OK?”

I looked at Jane. She nodded. So did I.

“Cecily would start by suggesting a possible bondage scenario to you, Jane. The first step, the first scenario, and there would be more, would have involved restraining Ian. She lent you some helpful bondage items and explained how they could be used and when – ideally when you had already made Ian unable to resist their use.”

Jane looked at me. We recognised Cecily’s plan so far.

“What she wouldn’t have done, at least not at first, is explain the first and most important rule of consensual bondage. You have to have an agreed release word and preferably a signal if you are unable to speak. That is essential. The first time you followed Cecily’s plot there wouldn’t be any release triggers. There weren’t, were there?”

“No,” I blurted out. “There weren’t.” Jane looked ashamed.

“I thought not. And you, Jane, humiliated Ian and possibly even threatened his life?”

“I admit it,” Jane whispered. “I’m sorry Ian. I didn’t mean to.”

“Of course you didn’t!” Helen snorted. “That’s Cecily at work! She’s a sadist with a difference. You’ve heard of Munchenhausen syndrome by proxy? Cecily is a sadist by proxy. She loves making other people, preferably men, suffer at the hands of their partners but she doesn’t actually do anything herself. She wouldn’t. She just enjoys thinking about what is being done because she instigated it.

There’s a rumour, no more than that, that before she came to our town she nearly caused a wife to kill her husband by suffocation. Apparently the wife recognised the signs of breath loss, released her husband and called the emergency services who were able to save him. What we