Chapter 25

The conversation with Jean reminded me of something -- I'd been ignoring Karen. I was within my rights as her master and it was good discipline -- but it needed to be balanced with sexual excesses. That being the case, I needed to make some preparations... "Boys," I announced, "I'm going to need the basement for a while. I'll be over in the far end, but you might not want to expose your sluts to what I'll be doing." Having provoked a gasp from the pair by the deliberately rude characterization, I leered at them, adding, "On the other hand, they might find it instructive..." I left Jean trying to decide what to say, heading out to the garage to look for some items I might need -- like rope.

The Japanese have raised rope bondage to an art -- they call it shibari. I'm not that good at it -- because I'm not practiced, for one thing, and I'm a perfectionist for another; true artists can somehow manage to make the whole thing beautiful. I was going to fake it -- what the Hell, it was good practice. I had fifty feet of good braided nylon rope and some smaller chunks -- I'm not a hemp kind of guy -- which I figured ought to be enough for my purposes. Next came the drill and a couple of heavy hooks; I gathered my booty and headed downstairs to the far end of things beyond Pete's new bedroom.

Digging under the ceiling tiles, I found the floor joists and installed the hooks in two adjacent ones, then went to work organizing my rope.

Karen was home; I heard her and Kate come in while I arranged things. I went to the base of the stairs and yelled, "Slut!" There was a general stir -- heels thumping on the floor -- and Karen appeared in the stairwell. "Master?"

"Get down here!" Karen pattered down the stairs -- and Joy and Gina appeared and hesitantly began to follow. "Oops! Sorry, girls! Just this slut, if you don't mind..." I chuckled and shook my head, pointing Karen down the hall toward the dungeon. When she'd entered my work area, I positioned her below the hooks. "Stand there. Spread your legs shoulder-width apart." I collected my rope and handed her a loop that represented the center of it. "Hold this," I directed. "I want to see your bellybutton through the opening." I then took my two sizeable bundles of rope and passed them between her legs and up the crack of her ass, then over her shoulders and back down to the loop, where I threaded them through it one at a time with some difficulty. Then it was around the sides at the waist to a square knot at the middle of her back that captured the verticals in the center - AFTER ensuring that the rope was nice and tightly wedged in her pink slot and all of the slack was out.

Karen had no idea what I was doing - and she didn't care; I could tell that she assumed that whatever it was, it was going to be awesome! I just hoped I was going to be able to deliver...

Next, I came up and around each side from the knot to the front, over her shoulders, crossing the ropes between her tits. Then I crossed them again at the back and came back under her breasts. Next, I crossed the ropes again behind her back and crossed over her breasts before crossing AGAIN behind her and coming over the shoulders and down between her breasts beneath both the over- and under-breast passes. Finally, I looped the ropes up and over the top and bottom breast ropes, brought them back under and cinched them tight, squeezing her breasts from above and below, then tied both ropes off at her original bellybutton loop. Thus far, it was, eh, not bad... "Arms at your sides," I directed, then took the trailing ends of the rope (and I was rapidly running out), wrapped them four times around Karen's wrists at her sides, then ran them through the original vertical runs to the shoulders just above the square knot - and tugged, finding slack that pulled the verticals out to her sides before going back over her wrists to her belly and again tying off the ropes in front of her. What was left of the rope wasn't good for much but artistic tucking, so I did that, then stood back to critique my work. I whirled my finger, ordering Karen to turn in a circle; I ended up impressed - it was pretty good, actually.

Karen's eyes glowed. "Can I see it, Master?"

I frowned, musing, then held up a finger. Striding to the stairwell, I yelled, "Hey!"

Pete stuck his head around the door, "Yes?"

"There is a full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door - have someone get it and bring it down here!"

"Sure thing!" I spent the next couple of minutes planning the next step of my nefarious plan (well, okay, maybe not THAT nefarious) while Pete retrieved the thing and carried it downstairs himself. When he got to the room, he took one look and erupted, "JOY!"

Joy stuck her head around the door. "Master?" I shook my head, grinning, at the appellation, but Pete ignored me, "Get down here! And tell Michael he might want to bring Gina!"

"Yes, Master!"

"Master?" I chided Pete as I took the mirror and hung it on a nail on the wall nearby.

"She loves that crap," Pete grinned. "Frankly, I think Gina loves it even more!"

"Well, just to warn you, Son - there are responsibilities that go with such things."

About that time, the patter of bare feet on the stairs ended and a feminine voice erupted, "Ooohhh!" Joy was agog. Michael, following more cautiously, yelled, "Woo hoo!" and Gina, when she came into sight, just stood there with her mouth open.

I beckoned Karen to the mirror; she did a three-sixty, eyeing herself over her shoulder to get the back. "Master!" she purred, "It's beautiful!"

"Well, it's one of my better efforts," I conceded. For the benefit of the younger set, I explained, "This is shibari - Japanese rope bondage. It's supposed to look as good as it works. I'm not done yet, but I'm well along. I plan to add to this a bit."

"Is it uncomfortable?" Joy asked.

"A little," Karen admitted. "When I walk, it rubs..." she looked down.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, "I forgot the knot!"

"Master?" Karen blinked.

"The waist portion - and between the legs - that's called a cutter," I explained. "There is supposed to be a knot over your clit, so when you walk, you get stimulated." I grimaced, pissed at myself. "Well, this isn't a walking kit, anyway - I set it up to be stationary."

"Oh." Karen looked blank, not understanding. Well, she would soon...

"Can we stay?" Gina asked, her eyes shifting from me to Michael and back.

I thought about it. "Yeah, I guess ... Back to your original place, Slut." Karen walked back over and I positioned her under the hooks again. Then I took a fairly short piece of clothesline and bound her breasts with it, winding it three times around her left breast, tying it off, then running it behind her back and doing the same to her right. They started looking red and swollen almost immediately.

Joy looked a little worried. "Isn't that uncomfortable?"

"Yes, it is," I agreed, "It's bondage. This will make her breasts super-sensitive."

"Okay..." Joy said doubtfully.

"Don't worry," I told her, "Practitioners of bondage and degradation and sado-masochism call breasts 'fun bags, ' because they're extremely sensitive, but can handle a tremendous amount of abuse. If I told you some of the things I've seen done to titties, you'd probably pee yourself - but ultimately, the women involved weren't permanently damaged." I went over and ran my hands over Karen's left breast, squeezing gently, "How does that feel, Slut?"

"Omigawd!" Karen gasped. Clearly she was hurting...

I figuratively stepped up to the podium again. "One method of intensifying pleasure is to add pain. I know this sounds odd, but under certain circumstances where the two are mixed, the body and mind become confused and the one adds itself to the other, creating incredible orgasms. That's what I'm doing here - increasing Karen's level of sensitivity. Bondage, too, can be a multiplier; some women get very excited when things are done to them that they are unable to resist. That inability to resist frees them to fully experience what is being done to them, increasing their pleasure. We're going to see what works for Karen." I took a new hunk of rope, doubled it, and threaded it under the ropes coming out of her bellybutton loop, then went up over the two hooks - then I pulled it down and ran them through the square knot at her back. "Stand on tiptoe," I directed. Karen did so, and I tied the rope as tightly as I could, trying to get all of the slack.

Predictably, it didn't work - Karen could stand flat-footed in place afterward. I had a plan, however; I took the ends of the rope, looped them through the existing vertical loops over her head, and began to wrap the running ends around and around the descenders. This pulled the four lengths together - which effectively shortened them more and more as I continued to wrap. Soon Karen was on tiptoe again - this time without slack. "There!" I announced.

"What's next?" Michael asked.

"Oh, torture..." I replied, grinning from ear to ear. Several sets of eyes bugged - notably Karen's. "First, let's leave her alone for a bit to enjoy herself..." I led the others away and up the stairs.

When we were upstairs, Pete asked nervously, "How long... ?"

I laughed. "A couple of minutes. I need to pick up a few things." I went to the stash in the TV room and picked up a rubber dildo and some lube, then went to the bathroom closet and collected a massager - one of those 110V items with the big, no-nonsense rubberized bulb on the end that women pretend is for muscle tension but everybody knows better. I got an extension cord from the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Jean asked, eyeing my collection of goodies and the kids following me from room to room, fascinated.

"Throwing a party," I replied, grinning. Jean would come and look or she wouldn't ... I headed downstairs, trailing the boys and their toys.

"How are we doing?" I asked, cupping Karen's crotch after putting my implements down behind her, out of her sight. I rubbed her mons while sucking one of her swollen nipples - and she clearly didn't know whether to shit or go blind. She let out a moan - and I'm pretty sure she didn't know whether it was from pain or from pleasure.