Archive-name: Bondage/irons.txt
Archive-author: Jeff Sinclair
Archive-title: Irons & Lace


     Cynthia Donahue watched snow flakes flit like jewels against
the street's brilliance.  Low hanging clouds cupped the light like
a hand, pressing it firmly down against the flawless snow winking
irridescently across the sidewalk and lawn. The low irregular
masses of azaleas bulked against the whiteness, crowned with
grotesque wigs of fresh snow, their shadows ink dark and dense. 
Cynthia could feel the bitter cold radiating from the window to her
skin but the warmth of the bedroom enfolded her comfortingly. 
Indeed, that warmth seemed even more sensually caressing in
contrast to the still, icy coldness beyond the glass.  She sighed
in deep contentment.  Liam was a little late, but not surprisingly
so with the snow falling so heavily all day.  The plows overworked
trying to cope with it, but no one seemed to mind.  The breathless
calm of the snowfall, without the scathing winds which might have
made it unpleasant, was almost like a pause to draw breath before
the real bad weather enveloped them.  The piling snow might slow
traffic and inhibit pedestrians, but it soothed the spirit rather
than abusing it.
     Cynthia giggled girlishly at the thought of soothing
influences, for her evening would be anything but soothing -- she
hoped!  Liam had promised something special for tonight, but, as
usual, had refused to tell her what, which was part of the rules,
of course.  Sometimes it was her turn to choose the game, other
times it was his; whichever of them claimed the right to decide the
evening's course, the other was always eager for the surprise as
for the pleasure with which the game would end.
     She rose to check the bottle of wine in its bucket on the
bedside table.  That was their one constant factor.  Sometimes they
shared the wine, sometimes only one was in a position to drink for
both at the critical moment.  It didn't matter-- Whoever drank, it
set a sort of convivial, somehow wickedly sexy seal to the entire
experience.
     She smoothed her black and lacy teddy over her flaring hips
and then sat beside the window once more, twisting a lock of
chestnut hair as she watched the snow.  It was odd how pleasant it
was to wait, to anticipate the heat and energy which soon would
fill this quiet room.  Her soft breasts moved gently in their lacy
nests she breathed, and  anticipation bubbled in her blood,
simmering softly and singing in her bones.  Waiting for Liam was no
burden; it was part of their loving pleasure.
     Her grey eyes strayed to the closet door. Within that closet
were white ropes, the smooth leather straps, the gags and
blindfolds and spandex hoods...all the toys of the loving games
they so enjoyed, waiting to be applied to her eager body with the
gentle inescapability.  The toys waited to lock her into
helplessness -- into the helplessness she cherished and which
cherished her, which paced and constrained her passion and rendered
her somehow wicked and erotic, even more lovely and desirable in
their grasp.  The sight of her in bondage roused Liam to a pinnace
of lust...and performance, she thought, an impish smile curving her
lips once more.  And for her...for her they added a special
garnish, a sense of the ultimate form of giving to her husband, of
wearing a special costume which turned her into the most glamorous
and sensual creature in the world.  The sound of the engine cut
into her thoughts and she looked down again as Liam's car moved
smoothly up the snowy street, tire chains rattling softly, and
eased in to the drifted curb.  The lights switched off, and Liam
emerged with a fat briefcase.  He slogged through the snow towards
the front door, and Cynthia let the curtain drop with a happy
little chuckle.
     The waiting and anticipation had been good, but the loving
reality which would seal their love once more would be even
better...
                                *
     Liam Donnahue paused only to shed his boots and coat before he
hurried up the stairs.  He knew where Cynthia was - she always
waited in the bedroom when a game was planned.  Mundane things like
supper could wait on nights like this; it was more important to
feed the inner being than the outer.
     He hefted the heavy briefcase, smiling as he tried to picture
her reaction.  The delivery service had been delayed by the snow,
which was the real reason for his tardiness, but he rather thought
the minor inconvenience would be well worth it.
     He opened the bedroom door quietly and stepped inside, his
cheeks still flushed from the cold outside.  Cynthia gazed at him
languidly, gracefully posed on the satin spread in a black silk
teddy, garter belt and white nylons. Her bird-wing brows quirked
quizzically, and - with her long hair spilling down her shoulders
to a pool behind her - she presented a picture of sensuality
incarnate, he thought: a sensuality made all the sweeter and more
alluring by the innocent maiden-like expression she had assumed.  
   "Home so early?" she purred laughingly.  "I'm flattered!"     
"Tease!" he snorted, dropping the briefcase into a chair with a
surprisingly solid thump.  "You know why I'm late."  He came over
and enfolded her in his arms, pressing his night-chilled cheek to
her for a moment, then kissed her with a long, slow, lingering
sweetness.  "And you also know I got home as soon as humanly
possible, wretch!" he chuckled.  "You don't think I'd want to waste
any of this, do you?"
     "I'd like to think not," she sighed, snuggling more deeply
into his arms and kissing his throat softly.  "But a girl never
knows for sure."
     "This is one girl who ought to," he growled playfully,
caressing her with cold fingers and laughing at her soft squeal of
mock protest at their chill.  "Besides, I promised you something
extra special, didn't I?"
     "Listen, buster," she said severely, unknotting his tie, "I've
been around, I have.  I know you guys.  All blow and no show, most
of you."
     "Most of us?!" He pretended outraged surprise.  "Just who else
have you been entertaining up here wench?"
     "Only the milkman, the postman, the gasman, the delivery boy,
and two salesmen," she said softly, unbuttoning his shirt and
punctuating each phrase with a kiss on his chest, then shoved the
shirt off his shoulders.
     "That's a relief!" he heaved a tremendous sigh to emphasize
the extent of his relief.  "I was afraid it was something serious! 
Here give me that."  He threw the shirt in the general direction of
a chair, then poured wine into their glasses.  He handed her one,
opened his briefcase and took out a large and obviously heavy
package.  He set it carefully on a floor vent just as the furnace
kicked in and began breathing warm air.
     "I'm still half frozen, honey," he said, sliding back onto the
bed and picking up his own glass.  "Let's thaw out a little first,
okay?"
     "Sure," she said, eyeing him speculatively.  "And will you
explain just why you had to put that on the heat while we do that?"

    "Because," he sipped wine and his eyes laughed, "it's just as
cold as I am and it needs to be warmer."
     "Of course," she purred wickedly, slithering over to slide her
free arm around his neck, nestling firmly in his lap as she sipped
from the glass in her other hand.  "And just how did you have it in
mind to thaw yourself out, oh spouse of my heart?"
     "Oh, I'm sure something will come to us.  Aren't you?"  And he
bent his lips to hers once more, tasting their honied fire and the
wine.
                                *
     Cynthia moaned softly when Liam finally removed his thoroughly
warmed hands from her body.  She wiggled still closer to him,
clinging monkey-like as he chuckled gently and pushed her
laughingly
away.
     "Now, now!" he teased her.  "I think my surprise isn't the
only thing that's gotten thawed out."
     "Damn bet'cha," Cynthia grumbled, making another grab at him. 
He danced away and put his hands on his hips, laughing down at her.

She had more than a suspicion that his caresses and kisses had been
intended to produce exactly the effect that they had - especially
as he evaded her every grab at him.  Liam was far too considerate
to rouse her so and leave her unsatisfied... unless it was part of
his plans for the evening.
     She gave up finally and lay panting, pouting, and caressing
her throbbing breasts gently, both because it felt so good and
because she knew Liam found the sight exciting.  She reclined on
the bed like a barbarian queen, her eyes smoldering.  She still
wore the silk teddy, but so much of it was lace that she might as
well have been naked.  She knew how sexy she looked in the garment.

It was designed to tease with what it pretended to hide.
     "All right, you cad," she said stroking her hard nipples
softly, "just what's in your stupid package?"
     "Something very special for you my love," Liam said, his voice
teasing yet serious. "Something we've talked about from time to
time."
     "Really?" Cynthia quirked an eyebrow, intrigued by his oblique
answers.  They'd been loving one another in bondage for years, and
she couldn't think of anything they hadn't tried yet.  Not right
offhand, anyway.
     "Yes, indeed," he chuckled opening the package but keeping
his back to her so she couldn't see it's contents before he was
ready.  Then he turned back, tossing the contents onto the spread
by her feet with a musical jingle.
     Cynthia bounced upright on the bed as the glitter of steel
winked back at her from the mass of small, fine-linked chains.  Her
breathing edged up another notch as her toe prodded the heavy
little links.  Liam was right -  they hadn't tried this before.
Ropes, straps, lingerie and scarves, all of those they had used,
but
never chains.  They had talked about it often, but she had never
desired to wear anything that did not enhance her own beauty...
but, then, she had never seen such finely wrought chains, either. 
There was nothing utilitarian about them.  They were designed for
only one purpose: to garnish the flesh of a captive with their
hard, bright beauty.
     "They're lovely, Liam!" she exclaimed, bending to run her
hands through the top layer of musically chiming links.
     "I thought so," he said, just a trifle smugly. "We've talked
about it often enough, and when I saw these advertised I knew I'd
found what we needed to make you even more beautiful, Cindy."
     "I should think so!" Cynthia lifted a fine chain wonderingly,
watching it hang from her hand and flash in the light.  She could
still feel the chill of the snowfall in its heart, but its surfaces
were warm to the touch.
     "I fact, I thought they looked so good that we wouldn't use
anything else tonight," Liam said, eyes kindling with a fresh light
of anticipation.
     "Are they adjustable enough for that?" Cynthia asked, half-
doubtful and half-challenging. "You know how...elusive...I can be."
     "Sure I know. But I'll make a bet with you, Cindy.  I won't
use anything else - other than a suitable gag, of course - and if
you can wiggle out of them you get to script all our bondage games
for the next four months."
     "And if I can't wiggle out?" Cynthia asked challengingly.
     "Then I get to run them for  the next four months, fair?"
     "Fair," Cynthia agreed after a moments thought. "But you only
get to use the chains, right?"
     "I only get to use the contents of this package," Liam agreed.
     "All right, it's a bet then!" Cynthia announced.
     "fine, But in that case, I think you should put on some
gloves, dear," Liam said, opening the drawer and removing a pair of
elbow-length white silk gloves.  He tossed them to her and she slid
them on, smoothing the cloth over her arms with a slow, teasing
finickiness as she grinned up at him.
     "Like this?" she asked coyly.
     "Exactly like that," Liam agreed. "And now I think we'll just
start with the gag.  I'm sure I'll think of something suitable." He
turned away, rummaging through her drawers once more, and let her
wonder just what he had in mind.  Liam had a way with gags - gags
that were never uncomfortable but always effective...and fetching,
she reminded herself.  Always fetching.
     When he tuned back to her, his hands overflowed with
particolored silk scarves, and Cynthia's eyes glowed.  Of all the
gags she had sampled (and they were many), scarves were her
favorite.  There was something especially sensual about the feel of
silk between her teeth and filling her mouth at the same moment. 
And a scarf gag could be shucked in a hurry if she were to
experience any trouble breathing - not that she ever had - which
made them both feel better about them.
     "Open wide wench!" Liam commanded laughingly, and she obeyed
eagerly, opening her lips as he packed her mouth with lightly
wadded silk.  She bent her neck obediently to help him tie a scarf
behind her head as a strap under the waterfall of her long chestnut
hair, then held quite still as he tied a second scarf over her
mouth and hair, covering the strip of silk between her teeth with
a wide band of pure white.  When he stood aside and let her look at
herself in the mirror, she raised her fingers to stroke the gag
admiringly.  It was beautiful.  The white band across her lower
face seemed to light up the golden skin of her face and emphasize
her huge eyes' brilliance
     "Pleased?" Liam whispered, circling her in his arms to nibble
one ear teasingly, and she nodded enthusiastically.
     "All right then," he said, "we can move on to more pressing
matters.  If you'd be so kind as to put your hand s behind you,
m'dear?" And he managed a ferocious leer.
     Cynthia cowered in mock terror and then reached her hand
shrinkingly behind her.  She craned her neck to see and started in
surprise as Liam lifted most of the pile of chain and laid it aside
to reveal the two pairs of handcuffs which he had hidden beneath
the rest.  She heard his mirthful chuckle at the slight outrage in
her eyes and looked quickly up at him.
     "I did say I'd only use the contents of the package, Cindy,"
he teased her. "You were the one who assumed that meant nothing but
the chains."
     Cynthia eyed him smolderingly for a moment longer, then
nodded, a slow tinkle of amusement glowing in her eyes.  She had
allowed him to fool her quite neatly, she thought.  Slipping wrists
and ankles out of circlets of chain was one thing; working them out
of tight-fitting cuffs would be something else again.  Still if she
could get her hands as low as her ankles and work them around in
front of her, she ought to be able to get the keys (under house
rules he had to leave them in plain sight somewhere), and she'd
become almost gymnast-agile over the years of their games...
     She shivered sensually as the cuffs clicked shut around her
wrists.  Liam adjusted them carefully, making sure they were too
tight for her hands to slip out of but loose enough not to bind. 
Cynthia found she could slide the steel up and down her gloves for
perhaps two inches, but there was no way she was going to slither
out of them.  Liam had never used metal cuffs before, though they
owned a beautiful set of leather cuffs which he had used often
enough.  There was something different about steel, she found.
Leather was sensual and soothing with its wide, somehow flexible
grip.  The metal was also sensual, but in a totally different way. 
It was sensual because it wasn't flexible. It was hard and strong
and unyielding - the  perfect contrast to her own softness and
warmth.  When she looked up at Liam again, there was an ungrudging
warmth of approval in her eyes.
     "And for my next trick, milady's ankles..." Liam murmured,
fitting the second pair of cuffs firmly into place.  Cynthia
shivered more strongly as her feet were pinned together.  She could
feel the steel more thoroughly on her ankles, for her nylons were
thinner than her gloves.  She moved he feet experimentally,
rattling the cuffs with a faint, musical chime, and the sound and
the feel of them fanned the liquid fire bubbling within her.
     "My, aren't you fetching," Liam said admiringly, and Cynthia
rolled onto her back, the hardness of the cuffs nibbling not
unpleasantly against her spine, and stared up at him with wide,
glowing eyes.  Her mind was beginning to buzz with the familiar
tensions of bondage.  The sense of being deprived of freedom, of
being pinned helplessly under her husband's loving eyes, unable to
speak or move, reached deep into her libido.  The things she felt
were too complex to unscramble easily.  There was a sense of
becoming a living expression of utter trust as she resigned herself
into his hands.  There was a feeling of almost unendurable
excitement as she waited to discover what titillation and
tantalization Liam was about to visit upon her captive flesh -
particularly since there was no longer anything she could do
(beyond a certain degree of frenetic body language) to influence or
guide him.  And there was an awareness that she had been locked
into his cuffs not to subjugate her (though she knew there was some
of that involved) but rather as something bordering on worship. 
She had been placed under lock and key of her own volition because
they both knew how utterly precious she was to him, that she was
his greatest treasure and that her bondage gilded her beauty with
an extra loveliness Liam found irresistible.
     All those thoughts and more flashed through her mind and
brought a rosy flush to her cheeks and an added hardness and
urgency to her nipples.  She felt the liquid heat within her
lapping still higher, and she began to pant in soft urgent gusts. 
And all he had applied so far was a gag and some handcuffs!  By the
time he finished, she knew, she would be reduced to limp, gasping,
sweat-soaked, whimpering frustration and urgency.  She would be
rendered down to elemental sensuality by her very incapacity to
satisfy her longings, and Liam would keep her that way until she
felt certain she would go utterly mad.  Not that she would go mad,
for Liam had some sort of sixth sense where she was concerned.  He
had learned to judge her capacity for arousal more acutely than she
could judge it for herself, and he would not allow her to be
satisfied until her own urgency guaranteed her a final pleasure
beyond all her pre-Liam. pre-bondage imagination.
     She raised her head and watched down the length of her body as
Liam sorted through the gleaming lengths.  There were more of them
then she had thought, coming in all sorts of lengths. All of them
ended in larger, round links - suitable for padlocks or snaphooks,
she thought with a delighted little shiver of excitement - and some
had the same larger links studded along their length.  She had no
idea how Liam had decided what to order, but it looked as if he had
decided to play safe by ordering enough for a regiment!
     He finished sorting them, eventually, laying them out in an
orderly fashion before he turned his attention back to her.
     Cynthia was limp in his hands as he rolled her onto her
breasts and belly, trailing his fingertips lightly down the
shivering length of her delicate spine.  she shuddered in bliss as
he stroked her and kissed the back of her neck, then closed her
eyes and buried her gagged face in the pillows as he picked up the
first length of chain and bent over her again.
     She quivered as he looped chain around her elbows three times
and slipped one round link through the larger link at the other
end.  He drew the chain gently tight, pulling until the hard-edged
links pressed firmly into her flesh through the gloves.  She sighed
in pleasure as he cinched her elbows tightly, for she was rather
proud of her ability to touch her elbows together and well aware of
how the tension rounded and lifted her already proud breasts into
pouting prominence.  She felt him threading the free end of the
chain between her arms, wrapping it around the cinch on her elbows
until he had used up all the slack, and then heard the soft click
of a snaphook as he latched the end tightly into the binding.
     He let her savor the added increment of helplessness for just
a moment and then slid his hands underneath her, working a second
chain around her waist.  She arched her back obediently, lifting
herself to help him as he looped the chain into place and threaded
its ends, then groaned involuntarily as he slid the free end under
her pelvis and up between her thighs.  Her head rolled as she
moaned in bliss as he adjusted the crotch chain carefully before
sliding its end under the back of her belt of steel.  Then she
gasped in astonishment as she realized just how long the chain was,
for it reached all the way from her waist to her ankles, as Liam
proved by snaphooking its end firmly to her ankle cuffs.  She
wiggled her feet in surprise and hissed through her nose at the
sudden surge of pleasure the slight movement brought as it shifted
the crotch chain tantalizingly.
     Her attention shifted instantly to the chain between her
thighs as it caressed her insistently.  She was no stranger to
crotch ropes, for Lam had long since learned how vulnerable she 
was to their stimulation.  It was less usual for him to bind her in
a way which let her determine just how much stimulation she was to
receive - he preferred to retain that bone jellying power in his
own masterful hands - but what really amazed her was the difference
between chain and soft cords.  The hard-edged, unyielding links
pressed against her molten core with a sort of harshness foreign to
her experience, yet they seemed somehow gentle.  She wiggled her
feet again and moaned as the chain pressed obediently tighter,
fanning the fires another notch.  Even the tiny pinches as it
nipped her through silk and lace only added an unexpected garnish
to her pleasure.
     Liam was humming now as he looped another chain around her
soft thighs, binding them as firmly together as her elbows and
turning her into a trapped column of vibrating pleasure and
expectation.  every movement of her legs in his hands moved the
crotch against her, quickening her lust further, wringing little
sighs and gasps of continually surprised pleasure from her.  She
felt her sweat and the hot liquid of her pleasure anointing the
chains, leaving them hard and adamant, glistening with steely light
and the dampness of her flesh but somehow rising even more dominant
over her as they did.
     He rolled her onto her back once more, bending to kiss the tip
of her nose and forehead and lick her fluttering eyelids gently. 
She stared up at him, her eyes molten with passion and love, and
humped her hips gently, delighting in the caress of the crotch
chain and simultaneously begging for still greater pleasure, but
Liam only chuckled.  He shook his head in sweet refusal, grinning
as her muffled sounds mingled need and acceptance in a soft croon. 
Then he looped another chain through her shaven armpits, and she
rolled her head in delight as the cool metal pressed against her
hot, sweat-soaked flesh.  Liam smiled at her as he threaded the
free
end through the large ring at the other end and settled the ring
against her cleavage.  Then he pushed the end down again, sliding
it under the tight chain band beneath her breasts and pulled it
back up through the round link.  When he drew it gently tight the
two chains pressed into her smoldering breasts from above and
below, compressing her softness gently between them.
     Cynthia crooned in delight as her very breathing caused the
chains to tauten and slacken slightly with each breath, massaging
her breasts with their harshness and delighting her with their
gentleness.  It reminded her of the spandex leotard she often wore
for Liam.  Not because it had anything in common with the soft
stretchiness of that garment, but because the taut confinement
shifted and changed with the movements of her own body, providing
an infinitely varying caress that soothed and roused her
simultaneously.
     Liam laughed at her softly as she wiggled and squirmed in a
slow, languorous dance of sweet captivity, sighing blissfully at
each subtle kiss and caress the chains lavished upon her.  Then he
kissed her nose a final time and rolled her back onto her belly
with gentle hands, letting her weight press her chained breasts
firmly into the softness of the mattress and add yet another
dimension to her involuntary autocaresses.
     But he wasn't done.  She craned her neck, watching avidly as
he threaded the free end of her breast chains through the
headboard, anchoring her to the bed.  She sighed in pleasure and
let her head fall back, then twitched in surprise as he latched yet
another chain to the topmost chain just where it crossed her spine. 
He led the free end down her arms, threading it through her
wristcuffs, looping it between her thighs (not without difficulty,
so firmly were they sealed together), and then back up between her
calves until he reached her anklecuffs and passed it through them. 
She raised her head, staring down at her pinioned body as he
finally passed the end of the chain through the footboard and drew
it taut against its anchorage.
     Cynthia rolled onto her side and moaned into her gag as he
snubbed her firmly, stretching her lengthwise down the exact center
of the satin spread, before he locked the chain.  Her cheek pressed
the hard links stretching from her breasts to the headboard - links
drawn tight by the gently insistent downward pressure of the lower
anchor.  The pressure tensioned her body firmly, yet she could
still move her feet up and down the wrist-to-ankle chain.  She
tried it, gasping as the slight motion increased the tension of all
of her chains simultaneously.  The crotch chain pressed against her
like a harsh lover's hand, and the added pressure tightened her
chain bodice against her breasts, squeezing and caressing.  She was
free to wiggle and squirm to her heart's content, and each movement
of her captive body tightened a different pattern of steel about
her in a unique and tantalizing caress.
     She rolled her head, looking at Liam with melting eyes as he
seated himself in a chair beside the bed, a long feather in his
hand.  He brushed it gently over the swell of her chained breasts,
and she groaned as its feathery kiss stabbed her with fire.
     "There you are, Cindy." he whispered. "Something special, just
like I promised.  now, we do have that little bet about your
escaping, and I want to be completely fair about this, so I'll give
you an hour or so.  Maybe a little longer." His feather danced over
the fronts of her thighs, then swept up to tickle her cheek
lovingly above the gag. "We do want to be fair, of course," he went
on seriously, "but I'm sure just watching and listening to you
enjoy yourself will undermine my own self control to the point that
I'll be forced to release you to tend to both our needs." He
grinned wickedly as she chuckled in understanding through the gag.
"So do be enthusiastic in your escape efforts dear, for both our
sakes," and the feather fluttered down the column of her throat,
darting to tickle her rich, chain compressed breasts once more.
     Cindy rolled her face into  the pillow with a sigh, wiggling
more energetically in her chains, fully aware that she could never
escape them but gasping as each tiny motion produced a fresh spasm
of pleasure.  The chains shifted with her movement, each shift
producing a tiny, musical whisper from her iron web.  The music of
her chains melded in her head with the whirling passion of her
bondage and the loving bite of the steel and the flickering,
teasing kisses of the feather, and she quivered, closing her eyes
as she yielded herself to the magic of her bondage and the rapidly
approaching orgasm it promised.
     She stiffened, whimpering in bliss, then wailed through her
gag, her head lashing up to lock her flaming eyes with his as the 
lightning of the orgasm flared in her belly and her entire body
shuddered in reaction, chains rattling.  She heard Liam's
delighted, loving laugh, felt his lips as  they pressed the column
of her throat.  She gasped through her nose, soaked in sweat and
passion as she went limp once more, gathering her reserves for
fresh wiggling and squirming and the renewed whiplash of pleasure.
     Liam had outdone himself. Instead of teasing her with a
laughing lack of mercy, he had allowed her free access to an
unending succession of pleasure - a succession of orgasms made all
the hotter and more satisfying because every time she looked up, he
would be laughing down at her and savoring her pleasure.
     Yes, he had outdone himself, indeed, and only two questions
remained in her mind.  The first was how many explosions her
wiggles would touch off in her loins before Liam finally freed her
of the chains to match his passion to hers?  And the second was
even more important.  Since she was going to lose her bet, how was
she going to inveigle Liam into plying her with irons and lace for
the next four months?  There just had to be a way!

                              FIN
--