"Hi Kitten, I’m Home"
A Meg & Mignon Moment
by
Brian Sands
Illustration by Noir
Scenario One
‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,’ played the piped muzac, followed by ‘Good King Wenceslas.’ These and other tunes pursued the tall full-breasted woman, her dark hair flowing, wherever she went through the department store. The hype and hurry of Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations always annoyed and depressed her in equal measure, but the basic food list was now bought, and a few luxury extras, and she was on her way out of there. A brisk walk along the boulevard by the park brought her to the security entrance of their apartment block. Upon entering the foyer, she was greeted by yet more muzac, but this time it was a gentle Bach sonata and therefore more bearable.
She opened the door to the apartment, stepped inside, closed it, and leaned back against the door with a sigh of relief. The flat was blessedly silent except for the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. There were only a couple more things she had to do before putting her feet up and taking a welcome rest, preferably with a tall glass of gin and tonic with lemon, with a liberal dash of gin. Hefting the shopping bag, she walked into the kitchen and disposed quickly of the items, then, taking her handbag with her, she walked into the living room.
‘Hi, Kitten, I’m home!’
An indistinct sound greeted her from the bedroom. Meg walked to the bedroom doorway and looked down fondly at her friend.
Mignon was lying prettily on the coverlet on her side. Her hands were tied behind her and her legs were bent back at right angles by one end of the wrist bonds that circled her slim ankles several times. She lifted her head and smiled over the broad silk scarf that was neatly tied in her mouth between her jaws.
‘Did you get all the shopping done?’ she asked.
That was what she meant to ask. Through the light gag her words came out muffled and scarcely understandable.
‘Sweet Minou, I know what you’re saying, but one can never be sure when the damsel is so fetchingly gagged. Here, I’ll take it off for a moment, but only because I’m so nice. You did agree to be a prisoner for the day, didn’t you?’
‘Mmmph,’ assented Minou the pussycat softly with a nod of her head that spilled locks of auburn hair across one shoulder to half obscure her face. Her uncovered eye looked up at Meg coquettishly.
The older woman bent down and hooked the thick silk out of Mignon’s mouth and over her chin, letting it fall loosely around the girl’s neck. It looked like an ordinary scarf-wearing style except for the damp telltale centre that had been trapped in the prisoner’s mouth.
Mignon was wearing a dress of filmy slippery silk that flowed sensuously over one raised buttock and fell in undulating folds around her upper thigh. Struggling against the cords linking her wrists to her ankles had caused the material to slide high enough so that the top of one stocking with its suspender belt was in view. The dress’s thin shoulder straps had met a similar fate. One strap hung down below Mignon’s raised shoulder, the material of the bodice having slipped away to expose a rounded breast and the dark areolus surmounted by a nipple made stiff and erect in the room’s medium-cool temperature.
Meg, on the other hand, was clad in a single body suit of black satin that had been covered during her shopping expedition by a large overcoat lined at the collars and cuffs with faux ermine.
Mignon was the loveliest sight Meg had ever seen, except for all the other times when Meg had bound her sweet friend. It seemed that both captor and willing captive could not have their fill of each other.
Meg enjoyed the power and control she experienced whenever she bound Mignon, a process that included many caresses until all the necessary ropes were tied. That kind of sensuality, the touch of hands and rope, could not be bettered by handcuffs which both women found clumsy, their cold resistant metal inimical to the true bonds of affection that were forged tighter whenever they had a session like this together. Using rope by either binding Mignon hand and foot in a simplified manner, or trussing her up in yards and yards of rope to prevent all but the smallest movement, were equally satisfying. Meg had found that the act of tying up her pretty friend could in itself give her a slow, warm orgasm that manifested itself by a shiver that ran through her body from time to time as she conjured with the ropes.
Mignon too loved the feel of rope being passed around her limbs, the caress of Meg’s hands as this was accomplished, and then the feeling of constriction as the knots were tightened. The sense of helplessness that followed made Mignon also feel deliciously warm inside. But, when the gag was tied in place, the exquisite helplessness became so complete that Mignon almost invariably fainted away in the long-drawn-out orgasm that followed. Left to herself, the young woman with only a little struggling could experience orgasm after orgasm until she was limp and exhausted, and very, very happy. This was how she felt now. Her eyes were heavy-lidded with satiation, but they shone with impish delight as she looked up at Meg.
‘Well, you didn’t get rid of your gag,’ said Meg approvingly.
Mignon tossed the long hair out of her face with a pretty movement of her head. ‘I couldn’t, you vixen! It was tied too tight.’
‘That’s what a gag’s for,’ Meg replied matter-of-factly. ‘But you didn’t have to have it.’
‘I know. I asked for a gag didn’t I? It just doesn’t seem complete without one.’
‘Quite right, Kitten. But it does rather throw out the steps in our scenario, and it was you who suggested that we pretend to be experimenting for the first time.’
‘I still feel pretty new to it all,’ said Mignon thoughtfully. ‘And, anyway, it’s fun to start from scratch. And, by the way, whose idea was it to put me in this hog-tie first time around? You wouldn’t do that with a rank beginner!’
‘But, if you remember, I did tie you up thoroughly that first time two years ago.’
‘And I remember that it worried me a lot at the time! I was in off the deep end, and all I wanted was to know was what it felt like to be tied up because it was in the novel I was writing.’
‘Which has since become a best seller, been made into a comic book and adapted as a stage play! Not too bad for a young author!’
‘I know, and I have you to thank for your support, and for the experience. It really did help in the writing of that book.’
Both women fell silent, thinking of the triumph of the year when Dangerous Inheritance by the new author Mignon Marceau went into a second impression upon the success of the stage play. They also mused on the variety of eccentric friends they had made through that play. The playwright Delia Biancoflore and her close associates, and actors such as Cordelia White or Noir le Compte de Plaisance with his monocle, so outdated and yet so dashing at the same time, and sinister, definitely sinister, thought Mignon with a little frisson of pleasure.
It had been Mignon’s idea to reconstruct those first steps towards ‘getting used to the ropes,’ an awful punning cliché that had sent Meg into hysterics of laughter requiring medicinal attention with a long brandy and dry. The steps that the two friends sat down and wrote out together began simply enough but, when Meg put the first into practice with a willing Mignon it became more complicated than intended.
Step One they described as ‘light binding.’ It was nothing more than tying Mignon hand and foot, that is, with her wrists tied together behind her back and her ankles tied together. However, Meg complicated it by attaching a loose end of cord from Mignon’s ankles to her wrists, just to use it up, and thereby creating a medium hog-tie that was, so to speak, not in the script.
‘That should come later,’ said Mignon a little reprovingly.
In Scenario One, a light gag was optional. But this time it was Mignon who thwarted the original intention of the game by begging to be gagged, saying sweetly, ‘It’s all very well, Darling, but a gag is essential for any self-respecting damsel in distress.’
‘Well, all right,’ said Meg. ‘The gag is optional, which means we can use it.’ And she applied the scarf gently but quite firmly to Mignon’s soft mouth.
The other option, a blindfold, was yet to come. The scenario called for Mignon to be clothed, but the apartment’s central heating made the lightest of silk dresses the most practical choice. Mignon had slipped it on over a garter belt and stockings, and black heeled shoes, aside from which there was no bra or panties.
The scenario also required Mignon to be placed on a mattress or a futon close to the floor, to prevent Mignon hurting herself if she rolled off onto the floor in her struggles. The double divan bed was low enough to serve the purpose.
Meg had then broken one of the rules of this and all other scenarios, not to leave her pretty captive alone for long periods. Their three years’ experience together had taught them the limits however. And Mignon was not stringently bound, the gag was simple, a silk scarf tied between her teeth, Meg had to get their basic shopping done, and it was assumed that Mignon could push a gag like that out of her mouth without much difficulty. That was not the issue, however, as Mignon pointed out. They were supposed to be neophyte and mistress practicing the game of consensual bondage for the first time.
The last part of the first scenario that they agreed upon was for Meg to enjoy watching her prisoner’s struggles, and to ‘touch’ her. This was the point they had now reached, the ‘You really are a pretty kitten, let me adjust your silk dress’ stage.
Meg sat on the bed beside her friend and undid her hog-tie so that Mignon’s legs could stretch. She then supported the younger woman between the shoulder blades and pulled her up to sit in her arms. A black silk scarf folded into several layers was tied firmly over Mignon’s eyes. Mignon’s breathing became more rapid with excitement as she guessed what was soon coming next.
‘You really are lovely, Kitten. I can’t keep my hands off you,’ said Meg throatily as she retied the gag between Mignon’s jaws, adding a folded silk square under the bandage to fill her temptress’s mouth more thoroughly. The knot of the gag was tied at the back of Mignon’s head over the knot made for the blindfold, so that when it was tightened and doubled both blindfold and gag were locked together around Mignon’s face.
‘Mmm hmmm,’ replied Mignon languorously through a mouth she could no longer use properly. The gag held Mignon’s jaws apart, prevented her from closing her mouth properly, and reduced any attempt at talking around it to a muted mumble. If Mignon had really wanted to call for help, if this had been a different circumstance, she would have been quite unable to do so.
‘Complete trust,’ murmured Meg as though listening in to Mignon’s thoughts, ‘Giving yourself over completely to me, placing yourself fully at my mercy. Ahh, what have we here?’
Meg spoke no more. She let her actions do the talking. All pretty Mignon could do was to moan softly with pleasure, whimpering when the build-up became so great she thought she would burst.
Meg tenderly allowed her hand to cup one of Mignon’s breasts, slowly rubbing the soft skin and fondling it through the thin silk of the dress. Shifting Mignon’s weight within her arms, Meg allowed her hands freedom to work delicately on both her friend’s breasts. The nipples, already upright, were teased through the silk until they were thoroughly engorged. Under the gag and blindfold Mignon was sweating and her body spasmed in the first of many orgasms that Meg led her through.
Eventually the silk covering of the dress was allowed to slide to Mignon’s midriff and Meg’s hands and fingers worked on breasts and nipples without the additional friction caused by the silk. Then, while still tantalising Mignon by playing with each of her breasts in turn with one hand, Meg let her other hand slip below. For a while she stroked Mignon’s thighs and their inward curve, then her fingers played lingeringly through the soft downy hair between the young captive’s thighs until very gently they slipped under the swollen petals of Mignon’s sex. It really is like opening a flower, an orchid, thought Meg dreamily. She had often had that thought; they had often had these times together.
When Meg’s fingertips found the point within Mignon’s flower, her friend threw back her head, her lovely throat exposed for Meg’s kisses, her mouth wide open due to the pull of the gag and plugged with silk, almost silent aside from a throaty grunt of pure pleasure. Meg carried her beautiful friend through the full length of the orgasm, playing it out skillfully but keeping in such close touch with Mignon’s reactions that she did not make it a torture by withholding. It was a difficult thing to do - balancing desire and restraint - especially as Meg herself experienced a satisfying orgasm as well. Mignon’s gag ‘kept the bubbles in the champagne,’ which was a good thing, otherwise the neighbours would have been treated to a very loud lovemaking.
As Mignon collapsed gently into Meg’s arms and fell asleep, still bound and gagged, Meg hugged her close and whispered, ‘That was one of the best we’ve ever had, Darling, very appropriate for the end of year festivities.’ It was indeed one of the best of many.
‘That’s Scenario One, Kitten,’ said Meg as she untied Mignon, freeing her wrists and ankles, and removing her gag and blindfold. ‘But the show’s not over yet,’ she added.
Mignon responded with a sleepy nod. They had only been resting a few minutes.
‘The day’s still young, not yet afternoon,’ went on Meg who was busy tying Mignon’s wrists together behind her back with a folded handkerchief. It went twice around the young woman’s wrists and was secured in a plain double knot. Another handkerchief was used for Mignon’s slim ankles. It could only go around them once, even when crossed.
‘I’ll let you rest for half an hour. I need to rest too. But you are still my prisoner, little Kitten, and you’re not to forget it!’
Meg re-folded the black silk scarf that had been Mignon’s blindfold and bound it tightly over the young woman’s face just below her nose. She then arranged Mignon onto her side with her head on a pillow and tucked her in under a peach coloured silk sheet. Mignon nodded sleepily and snuggled into the mattress like the animal of her nickname.
Scenario Two
‘What should it be now, Kitten?’
‘Mmmm?’
‘The next scenario, Sweetie?"
Mignon raised her head and looked up at her much-loved captor. Her ankles had been freed, the gag pulled down from her mouth (that had awakened her), and Meg was untying the handkerchief that bound her hands. It took a few moments for Mignon to remember.
Meg was now wearing a long black silk nightdress with a V at the chest that allowed for a view of deep décolletage between her large breasts, complemented by a filmy black negligee.
‘Well, you wrote in our list that trussing up of some kind should follow naturally.’
‘That’s right, so why don’t you trot off to the bathroom and freshen up, and I’ll think about how it can be done. It may be a surprise.’
Mignon rose, stripped off the silk dress, suspender belt, shoes and stockings, and padded softly across the floor to the bedroom and into the en suite bathroom. Meg’s eyes followed the lissome beauty with fond appreciation.
As she heard the muted roar and pattering of the water from the shower, Meg considered her options, fingering the extra coils of rope that were laid out on the dining room table. The trussing up of Mignon was no problem. The difficult choice was whether to bind her friend into a pretty bundle that she could watch wriggle and toss about on the mattress, or whether to truss her up in a chair, which would severely restrict her movement. In the end, Meg decided on the chair. Mignon had already spent an hour tied hand and foot, and attended to skillfully by Meg, so a chair would introduce a little variety.
When Mignon returned to the living room, her freshly brushed and dried hair glowing, she was wearing a light blue silk shirt through which the rise of her nipples was clearly visible, and a pink organza skirt. Meg saw that she was also clad in dark stockings and heeled shoes, and she suspect that Mignon had again chosen not to wear panties or bra.
‘All right. What have you thought up now?’ asked Mignon sweetly.
"I’ll show you. Turn around, Kitten.’
Mignon obeyed. Meg lost no time in tying her arms back at the elbows with one of the pieces of cord and anchoring them to her young friend’s body with additional cords tied about her chest and around her midriff, so that Mignon’s breasts between were lifted more prominently to Meg’s satisfaction. Meg took care to unfasten a couple of buttons that Mignon had left, the obligatory third button, and a fourth. Mignon would have done that herself, but she was teasing her friend and expected to be appropriately but gently punished for the insolence.
Meg then pushed Mignon onto the chair that she had set up in the middle of the room, and set to work on her legs. With separate lengths of cord, Meg bound the young woman’s ankles together, cinching them between, and followed this with ties higher up around her legs.
‘Below and above the knees, Dear,’ breathed Meg softly, ‘Almost a cliché in today’s leg-binding techniques.’
‘I don’t mind,’ replied Mignon softly.
‘I know you don’t. Now, a little less tighter here than one might expect.’
With those words, Meg bound Mignon’s thighs together, using minimum force. She could do no cinching over the skirt, only at Mignon’s legs below and above her knees. And she wanted to allow some freedom of ingress.
What followed was a very extensive trussing of Mignon’s body to the chair. The ropes passed across her lap, around her waist and midriff, and around her shoulders so that her arms were wedged between her body and the back of the chair, to end with the lashing of her ankles to one of the chair’s legs. Mignon wriggled experimentally.
‘It’s no use. I can’t get out of this,’ she said with a feigned pout in Meg’s direction. ‘There’s nothing for it but to call for help when my captor has gone.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Meg. ‘Foolish of you to tell me, my dear, because now I will have to take steps to see that you are unable to cry out, scream, or even to speak.’
‘Oh no, no,’ begged Mignon, ‘Not a gag, please!’
‘Such overacting!’ Meg commented, as she stuffed a waded silk handkerchief into Mignon’s mouth. Mignon responded by grunting a couple of times and rolling her eyes.
‘We’ve done the first steps of this second scenario, now for the next steps.’
Meg finished the job by tying another scarf between Mignon’s jaws to hold the gag in place, then bound a black silk scarf over it all. Mignon looked back at her with bright shining eyes, her breasts heaving, her breathing already quickening in anticipation.
‘Now, chère minou, a little love teasing I think!’
When Meg pulled open the silk blouse, she found Mignon’s breasts engorged and waiting.
‘My!’
Meg gently tweaked Mignon’s raised nipples. Mignon arched her back as much as she could against her bonds and squealed faintly, red-faced because she did not like to make a fuss. It was more the suddenness of the pinches than the pain, which was negligible. Mignon was used to it.
‘Hmmm. Yes, someone just beginning might be worried by this,’ mused Meg as she cupped Mignon’s breasts and massaged her nipples between her fingers to ease away the pain. Mignon subsided and tilted her head back in the lovely gesture of submission she had made during Scenario One.
Like before, Meg teased Mignon’s pretty body to the point where the young kitten was whimpering ecstatically through her gag and going almost mad with the desire to be finished off. Meg’s fingers worked cleverly at Mignon’s breasts and the flower between her thighs, and led her tenderly through the long-drawn-out orgasm, choosing when to be a little rough and when to caress lightly. When her friend came, Meg was glad that she had tied Mignon so securely because the young woman might certainly have hurt herself, so completely did she abandon herself to her struggles.
Later the ropes came off, and the gag, and Meg cradled Mignon tenderly in her arms, taking as much care with the after-play to bring the ecstatic Kitten back gently to the real and more mundane world. Mignon was sated, for the time being.
‘It’s nearly always the same,’ said Mignon under her breath, her eyelids drooping, the long lashes fluttering over her flushed cheeks, ‘And yet it’s different every time. It’s fun just to be tied up and left to struggle, sometimes for hours. And it’s also fun to be taken care of and pushed through the orgasm.’
‘I’m glad you like it, Sweetheart,’ replied Meg, biting Mignon’s ear reflectively. Mignon shivered deliciously in Meg’s arms.
‘I think we’ve gone further than a beginner might go for the second scenario, the second session,’ added Meg. ‘For instance, a beginner should be told that she can call a stop to it at any time, either a complete stop or a pause. That if she is gagged, the best way to let her partner know that something is wrong is by snapping her fingers. The gag would be removed immediately and she can say what the trouble is. She may have a cramp, feel sick or feel dizzy, the ropes might be hurting too much, or she may be getting frightened. Her wishes would be completely respected.’
‘All those things have happened to me, haven’t they, cramps, choking on the gag, sometimes feeling sick ...?’
‘Yes, Sweetheart. Some sessions are not perfect. That’s why a lot of time and practice is needed.’
‘And it’s good for them to end like this.’
‘Very much so, Kitten. You’re gently released, held and slowly caressed ... Why, look at the marks on your pretty wrists! I’ll massage them out for you with some of that oil you bought last week. I’ll do your whole body, then, when you’ve rested, you can massage me. My back’s a little sore from bending down over you for so long.’
‘There are lots of other scenarios, aren’t there?’ said Mignon sleepily as Meg laid her down on their massage table.
‘Of course, Kitten. I could gradually undress you while you’re in your bonds, like I’m undressing you now. Or you might be tied up already naked.’
‘Although clothes are nice ...’
‘I know you like clothes, Kitten ...’
Meg poured a small amount of the perfumed oil into the cup of one palm, rubbed her hands together, and began to apply the oil and the massage to Mignon’s upper chest and shoulders.
‘I like having my blouse unbuttoned when I’m all tied up and can’t do anything about it,’ continued Mignon drowsily, ‘And it’s fun too, to look down and see a little déshabillé. I can imagine that I’m kidnapped and being held for ransom.’
‘Ah, that reminds me,’ said Meg, as she continued the massage down to Mignon’s breasts, ‘You’ll remember our adventure with Cousin Alice and her faithful sidekick Joan?’
‘How can I forget?’
‘Well, there might be a surprise in store.’
‘Another game?’
‘I’m not saying.’
‘But a hint’s as good as a ...’
‘Yes, but they are very busy women. In the meantime, let’s tidy you up.’
Meg had done a quick massage of Mignon’s body down to her toes and was starting on her young friend’s arms, working down to her hands and the indentations in her wrists left by the rope.
‘When will we know for sure?’
‘Maybe another month.’
‘A New Year adventure?’
‘Maybe.’
© Brian Sands
Christmas 2003