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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

--



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