The Bondage Freak
Story Codes: MF, BDSM

The Bondage Freak
by Don Frank

Jane and I became friendly during her senior year of college.  We both knew that things
would be short-term between us, but found that a strictly casual “relationship” worked for
us both.  Of course, back in those days, no one had yet coined the term, “friends with
benefits,” but I think that we both knew what we wanted, which included the “benefits” more
often than not.

Although Jane had spent the night on numerous occasions and we had even gone up to
Vermont and stayed in a bed-and-breakfast a couple of times, neither of us ever thought
in terms of living together, primarily because the “relationship,” such as it was, essentially
precluded that possibility.  Besides, her graduation was right around the corner, and we
both assumed that she would be heading off to California.  Her alma mater had accepted
her, but with a meager amount of financial aid, while Stanford was offering her a nice
fellowship.  Shortly before Memorial Day, Jane left town, and I assumed that while we would
try to keep in touch, we would inevitably drift apart.

And then came the phone call.

“Don -- Guess what!  One of their fellowships has been turned down, so they’ve offered it
to me.  And I accepted!”

“Wow!  That’s great, Jane.  When are you coming back?”

”Well,” she began, “that’s sort of what I wanted to ask you about.  You remember Melissa?”

Melissa was former Jane’s roommate, whom I had met only a couple of times.  “Yeah.  
What about her?”

“Well, she’s got this fantastic place at the Towers, but can’t move in until September 3rd.  
Orientation starts on August 24th, so I was wondering if I could stay with you just for a
week or so.”

As it happened, I had plenty of space, including an extra bedroom which was hardly ever
used.  I assumed that she could park most of her stuff there, and sleep in either my bed or
the cot, depending on how things stood within our “casual” arrangement.  Of course, the
fact that I hadn’t had much luck finding anyone since Jane left town may have figured in my
reasoning.  “Sure!” I said.  “No problem.”

Unfortunately, there really was a problem.  Jane was preoccupied by school during the
day and by sex the rest of the time.  And during the weekends, there weren’t even any
“distractions” from school.  I didn’t expect that I’d ever encounter anything like this -- and
certainly not with her -- but things came to a head on the Friday before Labor Day.  I had a
truckload of paperwork to complete, and when I reached the house, I went straight to my
desk and began dealing with it.

“Hey, Lover!” cried a familiar voice as I pulled up my chair.  “You in the mood?”

I shook my head.  “Sorry, Babes.  I have to get through at least a portion of this crap,” I
said, holding up a stuffed folder.

Jane looked at me, a little disappointed.  “How long before you can take a break?” she

I shrugged my shoulders.  “A while . . . at least an hour or so; maybe more.”

“O. K.”  And she left the room, while I buried myself in my papers.  But three minutes later
she asked, “Are you almost ready to take a short one?”

I was a little stunned.  “Hell, no!” I said.  “I’ve barely begun.  Try me in an hour.”

Less than five minutes later, she asked the same question.  “How horny are you?” I asked.

Jane giggled.  “A little.”

”It sounds like very horny to me!” I snapped, without lifting my eyes from the page.

Perhaps it was two minutes later that I became aware of someone doing yoga postures on
the floor.  Jane was showing off her flexibility -- stark naked!

“Um . . . Do you think you could do that somewhere else?” I asked.

Jane seemed startled.  “Oh . . . Sure! . . . I didn’t realize that I was bothering you.”

”I wouldn’t say you were bothering me, but it is a little distracting.”

Jane got up and walked towards the door.  I didn’t even hear her come back towards the
desk, but I soon felt her place her arms around my chest as she gave me an “innocent”
peck on the cheek.  I jumped to my feet, almost dragging her up with me.

“Jane -- that’s enough!  What do I have to do?  Wrestle you into submission?”

She giggled.  “Ooooh!  That sounds like fun.”  And with that, she lowered her head and
began pushing me backwards, towards the bed.

Now, I should explain that Jane was one of these relatively tiny creatures, perhaps five
feet, two inches in height, and probably carrying not much over 100 pounds if that.  As
soon as I had recovered from the surprise of the “attack,” I easily forced her onto her
back, straddled her, and pinned her wrists to the bed spread.  “Will you behave yourself?”
I demanded.

Stark naked, Jane looked up at me with a shit-eating grin.  “I’ll be good!” she promised

I got off her and slid off the bed -- only to have her attack me again.  The outcome of the
rematch was exactly the same, save that this time I pinned her on the floor.    “Jane --
What the fuck?  Are you on some kind of drugs?”

She giggled.  “Nope.  Just horny.”

I was losing my patience.  “Look -- I have to get some work done.  What the fuck do I have
to do?  Tie you up or something?”

Again, I released her and got to my feet.  However, as I stepped away, she grabbed my
left leg and nearly took me down.  I struggled free as she scrambled up, and I barreled into
her, driving her back to the mattress.  The third fall ended quickly, and I was actually
thinking about slapping her when she broke out in a grin and screamed, “Do it!  Do it!  It’ll
be fun!!”

I didn’t even comprehend what she was talking about, but she filled in the blanks and
connected the dots.  “Tie me up.  That way I won’t bother you, so you can get your work
done and we can let loose.”

I was furious.  “O. K., Goddammit!  You want me to tie you up?  That’s what I’ll do.”

I didn’t own cuffs of any sort in those days, but I had several bungee cords, which had at
one time helped secure things to the roof of my car.  “Move up to the middle of the bed,
spread-eagle!” I commanded.

”Yes, Master!” she replied, smirking.

Now, the rest of this tale is where things got wild.  I began by tying her right arm to a top
bedpost.  Next, spreading her legs far apart, I secured the first the right leg, and then the
left.  I was so annoyed that I didn’t even notice the way Jane was breathing, or that her
nipples were erect.  But as I reached for her left arm, she pulled away.

By now, I had almost lost my composure.  I grabbed that last limb roughly, held it in place,
and began to wrap the cord around it.  And that was when it happened.

Jane began coming.  And coming.  And coming.  And while I watched in total astonishment
(my anger almost instantly receding), her naked body shook from a powerful orgasm.  
Even today, years later, it remains one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.

Jane whispered a gentle “Thank you,” and relaxed.  It appeared as though she was
drifting off to sleep.  And I stood there for a couple of moments, absolutely dumfounded. . .

Believe it or not, this was our first experience with bondage in any form.  Indeed, we were
two “virgins” in a sense, and this initiation led both of us to explore other aspects of our
sexuality.  But there is an interesting footnote to this tale.  While I have encountered and
worked with a number of subs over the years, I have never yet met anyone else who could
reach orgasm simply from the bondage.

Jane was a true bondage freak -- the real deal, the genuine article.  Apparently, in this
regard she was quite rare.  While most people become aroused by bondage, it is very
unusual for anyone to climax.

To be perfectly honest, I lasted about another 25 minutes with my papers.  By then, Jane
was awake.  I tore off my clothes, and we fucked like rabbits until dinner.  But everything
was anti-climactic after that first, magical orgasm she had had (and I had witnessed).

How many sexual experiences have I had?  Who knows?  One thing is for certain:  Over
the course of so much time, it is difficult to recall terribly many of them vividly.  There was
one here . . . one there . . . and then there was that one.  All I can add is that I hope to
meet someone just like Jane again.  I’m sure it would be a memorable evening!

©2008 Don Frank

Other Stories by Don Frank : The Floundering Undergrad:  Part One       
The Floundering Undergrad:  Part  Two,         The Floundering Undergrad:  Part  Three

Don Frank teaches English at a small college in New England.  His fifth book will be
released next spring, and he is completing a one-act play scheduled for production later in
2009.  Don believes that "literature" and "pornography" are not mutually exclusive
concepts, and that good pornographic literature often has genuine artistic merit.  He
hopes to hear from others who share these convictions!  Contact information is available
at his blog: