Tying up Miss Lowes
By Never118
It must have been when I was just about twenty one, and finishing up at art college. I was a bit nuts back then. Small, thin, perky but not big breasts (which I liked, by the way), my hair was cut to just about my shoulders, maybe a bit less, and swept sideways so my left eye was usually hidden, and dyed bright scarlet, which was surprising given my college’s strict rules on uniform. She was my ex-art tutor, probably straight from university because she was only about twenty-five. Miss Lowes was incredible. A really good teacher and stunningly beautiful. She had long dark hair, straight and thick, with big brown eyes and a beautiful face. She was slim and sexy, curves in all the right places, breasts that I guess would be called ample. And she used to run detentions every night.
I just wasn’t all that prepared for life after college, and Miss Lowes was prepared to help me, so after her extra classes, I used to head along and sit with her for an hour or so, getting a portfolio together for fashion design jobs. It wasn’t that I was bad at art, just that I was slow at preparing. While I worked, she would watch what I was doing, make suggestions, or just talk to me about art. It meant that by the time I finished up we were usually the only people in the building. It was nice. I felt like we were special, that we had something different, not the usual teacher-student relationship.
I got to know Miss Lowes really well, got to know her habits (good and bad), her first name (Olive), her taste in art (she liked Dali, hated Picasso), what she liked in music (I’d never heard of it), and film (we both liked Casablanca). I got to know her clothing well, started to think of the way she dressed as classy, as the way I wanted to dress when I got to be a professional of some kind. Always a silk shirt or blouse, usually plain and elegant, sometimes fitted, sometimes not, and a plain, elegant skirt. She had a classic style, tended to go for pencil skirts and top them off with high heeled boots in black or brown leather. And scarves. She used to wear beautiful silk scarves, mostly in her hair to keep it back when she was teaching, tied like an Alice band, but sometimes like a choker around her neck. Always made me feel inadequate, in my boring smart trousers and a fitted white shirt with cropped sleeves, and boring black ballet pumps. We had to be plain and smart when I was at college, or at the part time job, you see.
She got to know me a little, too. She would ask me about boys, and then when she worked it out she would ask me about girls. She would ask about life at home, my driving lessons (I passed just after New Year), and what I wanted to do after once I got a job, and she was always supportive, always wanted to hear about it.
Even after I finished my fashion portfolio, I would find myself wandering to her room after her evening classes to revise and to get on with some work on a job application. She was happy for me to be there, said she liked the company and feeling useful to somebody. My final exhibitions were three weeks before the interview, so I had time to brush up my interview techniques and my art knowledge and stuff.
I went to see her after my last interview. I was taking her a present to say thanks for the help she had given me over the last year. I’d saved up my money from my part-time job at the local supermarket for a couple of months and bought her a new silk scarf. Nothing hugely expensive, but enough to show I was grateful. It was black, mostly, heavy silk, with a wide green square on it and a white interior to the green square and gold paisley patterns. Hard to describe, and it looks better than it sounds. It looked stunning, and I knew it would suit her.
I’d made myself look smart for the interview, although my mum (art college and supermarket part time jobs pay nothing, so I was relying on my parents, who were really relaxed) had been surprised I had continued dying my hair. I reminded her it was for fashion design, so they’d probably think it was good, anyway, and she was happy with that. I’d put on a pair of wide-leg black pinstriped trousers, some flat knee-high boots (I couldn’t walk in heels), and a blue fitted silk blouse (which had cost a bomb). I thought I’d look good, and the blouse suited my hair, and people had complimented me on it all day. When I’d told Miss Lowes about it the day before, she’d been impressed.
I loitered in the corridor while she finished off her class. After the last person (I think it was the life drawing model) left, I went in. Miss Lowes was sitting at her desk, finishing off some paperwork.
She looked great. A grey-blue silk blouse, fitted to her body with long full sleeves and big cuffs, a grey tweed-looking pencil skirt, a wide black leather belt, and a pair of black leather boots. I suddenly got butterflies in my stomach about going in, but I knew I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t, and I wanted her to have the present. She wasn’t paying much attention, so I knocked quietly and went in.
When she looked up, she gave me a big, dazzling smile. She seemed genuinely pleased to see me, and she gestured for me to go sit at the desk opposite her while she finished off. I grinned back and hurried over, dropping my canvas bag to the floor and perching on the stool while I watched her hands quickly flick over her papers, filling in some form or other.
When she finished, she put her pen down with a satisfied smile and steepled her fingers and leaned forwards. “Well, Ellie, how did it go?”
“It was okay,” I said, smiling a little. She took my embarrassment for shame and cocked an eyebrow at me.
“It can’t have been that bad, Ellie,” she told me. “You’re good at interviews.”
“Oh, yeah, I am. Sorry. It was a good interview. They asked the questions I wanted, at least, the ones I prepared for. I’m happy with it,” I said, quickly, almost tripping over all my words. She smiled at me reassuringly. It made my stomach flip-flop as she smiled at me and I wanted so much to hug her. “I just stopped by to say thanks,” I said, awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.
“What for, Ellie?”
“For letting me come and prepare, and stuff,” I said, realising how ridiculous I sounded. How much like a little kid. I brushed hair behind my ear, conscious of how much more glamorous she was, how much more grown up, and how much I wanted to spend more time with her and not have to leave. “It’s going to be a bit weird for me, now,” I added pathetically.
“How’s that?”
“Well, now that this year is over and I have something sorted out. I was just getting into the routine this year of all this stuff, and now it’s done.”
“Well, I for one will find it very strange without you,” she said. My heart skipped, and I had a horrible feeling my mouth dropped open. Miss Lowes smiled at me, again. “I’ve gotten used to you being here after I finish work, Ellie. I think I’ll miss you and our little chats,” she added. I grinned.
“I’ll miss you too, Miss Lowes,” I said, feeling a bit silly.
“I think you can probably call me Olive now,” she told me with a smile.
“Oh, okay then, Olive,” I said, sheepishly.
“Well, Ellie, what do you plan to do now?”
“I don’t know, really. Wait for them to let me know, I guess. I don’t want to keep you, Miss… Erm… Olive,” I said, hurriedly reaching for my bag and the present inside. I stood up and smiled. “I just wanted to stop by and give you this,” I added. I held out the box I had put the scarf in, smiling apologetically as I realised it really wasn’t much of a present. She seemed genuinely surprised, her pretty eyes going wide and her mouth forming an even bigger smile.
“Ellie,” she said, a bit breathless. “You didn’t need to do that,” she told me. I shrugged, a bit embarrassed. She stood up and came around the desk between us, I thought so she could take the box but instead she leaned over and wrapped her silky arms around me. I was a bit surprised, then the smell of her wafted over me and the sensation of her body against mine, and I recovered a bit. I put my arms around her a bit awkwardly and hugged her back, feeling how warm and soft she was. She pulled back after a few seconds, still smiling. I stood up and put the box between us properly so that she had to take it now. She looked down and took it in her fingers, delicate silver rings on her fingers sparkling. “You really didn’t need to, Ellie,” she said.
“Yeah I did,” I told her. “Open it,” I said.
She slipped the top off the box, looking in at the scarf. At first she seemed confused about what it could be, then she reached in, ran her fingers across the lustrous surface, and smiled. She plucked the scarf out and whipped it up and over her arm quickly, seeing just how big it was. “Oh, Ellie, it’s gorgeous,” she exclaimed, genuinely excited. “It must have cost you so much,” she added.
“Not really,” I said. “Sorry,” I added.
“Don’t be silly,” she told me. “It’s lovely. That’s so kind of you,” she said, smiling. She put the box down carefully on the desk and then wrapped her arms around me again. I took even longer to react this time, but it felt amazing, being pressed against her body like that. She sniffed, a bit like she was crying. “Thank you, Ellie. I really am going to miss you,” she said.
“Me too,” I told her, realising how true that was now. She pushed herself back, holding me at arms-length, which was a bad idea because now she could see I had tears in my eyes.
“I love the scarf,” she reassured me. “It gives me an idea,” she said, smiling mischievously. That one, I hadn’t expected, and I really didn’t expect what she came out with next. “Would you tie me up?” She asked me. Now I’m sure my jaw hit the ground as I stood staring at her.
“Sorry?” I said.
“I asked if you’d like to tie me up,” Miss Lowes said. She was still grinning at me, her face beaming with excitement. “Come on, Ellie. We’re the only two people left in the building, and I’d really like to try it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean get some rope, tie my wrists and my ankles, maybe something else. Tie me up,” she said with a smile. I realised I hadn’t said no outright, then I realised at no point had my brain counted it out as an idea, just wanted clarification. I must had looked sheepish, gone the same colour as my hair. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ellie,” Miss Lowes said. “I misunderstood,” she blushed and turned away. “Please, I’m sorry, just forget it.”
I found myself reaching out, my hand resting lightly on her right elbow, as I stepped a bit closer. I wasn’t entirely sure how my brain had formed a conscious thought, but it did, and I was surprised when I realised that I wasn’t horrified, scared, sickened, or confused. I was excited.
“No,” I said quietly. “I was just surprised, is all,” I tried to explain. “I will, if you’re sure,” I went on. “If you want,” I added, feeling like an idiot. I could feel how thick and warm her satin blouse was, how good she felt through it. I could feel a thrill of excitement run through me. She turned slowly, her face returning to its broad grin, her happy smile. She pulled me into a big hug, and it felt amazing, and I never wanted it to end.
It didn’t take too long to get used to the idea, especially once Miss Lowes checked the college building through and came back to happily report we were on our own. She had come back by way of the caretakers, picking up some ropes (she told them it was for a project) and asking them to not lock up for a couple of hours yet. I texted my parents to tell them I would be back a bit late and not to worry.
Miss Lowes put some coils of rope on one of the desks, pulled the blinds down (including the one over the door), and sat on the edge of a desk next to me. I was grinning, thrilled by the physical contact, by the fact we were co-conspirators, and by the task ahead. The fact we might get caught wasn’t bad, either.
“Ready?” She asked.
“Yep,” I said. “Although, obviously, I’ve never done this before,” I explained, looking sheepish. She giggled and rested a reassuring hand on my shoulder. She picked up a coil and handed it to me, pointing to her ankles.
“Ankles first, please,” she said. “That way, I can help you out and we can see how it looks. That okay?”
“Sure,” I said. I knelt down with the rope, which was white nylon. It didn’t seem rough, just secure. I noticed the ends had been singed with wax to hold the frayed edges. “What do I do?”
“Okay,” Miss Lowes said. “Fold the rope in half, like that, and then loop it round my ankles, bring the ends up through the loop that you made when you folded it in half, like that, and bring it tight,” she explained. I followed her instructions, passing the two ends through the folded loop and drawing them back against themselves to tighten it. “That’s good. Now wrap those ends around my ankles as many times as you can, but leave some left over,” she said.
“How do I knot it if both ends are going the same way?” I asked.
“Okay, stop winding now,” she said. I’d managed to get four turns around her ankles, neatly stacked on top of each other. I had about a foot left over in my hands. “Bring the rope between my ankles and wind it vertically around the ropes you’ve already tied,” she instructed. I did my best, although it was tough getting the rope between her ankles at the top given how snug I’d made the ropes. When I’d done that a couple of times, I worked out the end. I swung one end down between the coils of rope and Miss Lowes’ legs, and the other around the outside, brought both ends to the top, and knotted them securely. “Nice work,” Miss Lowes said, wriggling her legs a little and testing the ropes. She seemed impressed.
“Is that okay? I guessed the last bit,” I said.
“That’s great. Very snug. Looks good, too, and I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere,” she said with a smile. It was seductive, her voice, her smile, the thought she wouldn’t be able to run, that she would be helpless with me. I grinned back.
“What now?” I asked.
“Can you tie just above my knees? Same way, just higher up?”
“I guess so,” I said. I picked up another coil of rope and knelt down again. As I tied her legs, I decided to ask a couple of things that had bothered me. “When did you work it out?”
“What?” She asked, a bit confused.
“How I felt,” I explained.
“Oh. I think probably just before Easter,” she said. “Just after your birthday, I think,” Miss Lowes told me. I looked up, my hair going in my eyes again.
“You remember when my birthday was?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. I carried on tying the ropes around her knees, still not entirely sure I could believe what was happening. “You hung around a bit, you seemed lonely, despite all your friends making a big fuss, and you seemed happiest when I said happy birthday to you. I told myself it was just self-flattery on my part, but the more you were with me, the more I thought about it.”
“Oh. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” I said.
“No,” she told me, with a smile. “That’s good, by the way. Nice and snug. Feels good and tight, anyway.”
“What now?”
“Hands, I guess,” she said. I looked at her carefully, searching out her eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. I like it, it’s nice and snug,” she told me. “Anyway, yes, I think it was about then. When you kept coming back after the portfolio, and you were already word-perfect on the interview stuff, then I kind of had a stronger idea,” she explained. I flushed red.
I stood up and picked up a coil of rope. “Same way?” I asked.
“Yes, please,” Miss Lowes said, her voice sounding heavy, like I imagined honey would. I nodded and stood in front of her with the rope. She looked at me with a grin and smiled. “Ellie, how many damsels in distress get their hands tied in front of them?”
“Um… I don’t really know,” I said, smiling.
“Come on, Ellie, I want to feel helpless. Tie them behind me,” she instructed.
“Okay,” I said. I walked behind her, and she shuffled a bit on the table, as best she could with her ankles tied together, and put her hands behind her. I wrapped the rope around her wrists as firmly as I could, like she told me, and then cinched it tight. I was beginning to get quite good at this. While I worked, we talked a bit more. “So, what made you want to do this?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ve always loved damsel in distress scenes in films. And I guess I just wanted to feel what it was like to be helpless for a change,” she explained. I knotted the rope around her wrists tightly. “That feels really good,” she sighed.
“How did you learn this stuff?” I asked.
“The internet, Ellie. It’s a wonderful thing,” Miss Lowes said. “Do we have any rope left?”
“Um… yes. I think so. A long piece,” I said. I showed her the last coil. “What’s it for?”
“I want you to wrap it around my upper arms and chest above and below my breasts,” Miss Lowes told me. I started to loop the rope, then wind it around her body like she had told me to before. I couldn’t help noticing that since I’d bound her wrists her breasts were pushed out towards me, straining at the dark blue-grey of her blouse. Her nipples were hard, I noticed, which made me blush a little.
“This is amazing, Ellie. Thank you so much.”
“You look pretty incredible, Miss… sorry, Olive.”
“Thank you,” she said. She wiggled her hands behind her back, and I realised I didn’t know how to tie off the ends now. I made do with passing the ends between Miss Lowes’ arms and body to cinch the ropes around her arms tighter on both sides, and on the second side I tied them off. She was moaning appreciatively as I tied the knot. “Oh Ellie,” she sighed. Her voice sounded breathless. She sounded sexy. “Oh, Ellie, this is wonderful. I love it,” she said.
“Glad I could help,” I said, blushing a little as I stood in front of her. It’s hard to explain how strange it is standing in front of a gorgeous woman you’ve fantasised about because she is unattainable that you have now tied up. And she asked me to. I only had this fantasy twice, and it wasn’t this good either time. I was smiling as she tested her ropes, smiling to herself. She fixed me with her big, dark eyes, and smiled sweetly.
“Ellie,” she said quietly. I had to lean forwards to hear her. As I did, her head bobbed forwards and her lips brushed against mine. It was amazing. She pulled her head back, grinning. “That was to say thank you,” she said. She kissed me again, longer now, and I flicked my tongue into her mouth. “Now,” she said, pulling back. “What sort of damsel in distress would I be if I was allowed to call for help?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, still a bit dazed from the two kisses.
“I need a gag,” she said, coyly. I must have looked a bit puzzled. “Come on, Ellie, please? Gag me?”
“Okay,” I said, realising that the idea thrilled me, even though it kind of ruled out more kissing. I paused a minute. “I don’t have anything,” I said.
“How about the beautiful scarf you bought me?”
“Really? Won’t that spoil it?”
“I’m not wearing makeup, so that’s not a problem, and it can be cleaned. It’ll be fine, Ellie, honest. It looks perfect for the job.”
“Oh, okay,” I said. I wandered over to her desk and picked the scarf out of the box, sliding the heavy silk through my fingertips and unfolding it into its full, broad square. Miss Lowes was staring at me, her eyes half closed, her mouth pouting a little, her breasts thrust forward by her ropes. I really wanted her, now. I was still running the silk through my fingers as I got back to her. I realised I could do what I wanted, so I leaned over and kissed her on the lips gently, then when she responded I went a little more forceful. It was heavenly. My fingers, still holding the scarf, gently stroked her breasts and she moaned.
“Please, Ellie,” she whispered in my ear. “The gag,” she insisted.
I nodded and folded the scarf into a broad band. I held it up in front of her and she craned her neck forwards a little and bit down on the centre of the scarf. There was loads of it, the thick silk nearly didn’t all fit, and her lips barely closed around it. She was smiling and moaning, sounding all sexy. I drew the two ends around to the base of her skull and she tilted her head forwards, still moaning appreciatively and wriggling against the ropes.
I tied the knot in the gag firmly so it was snug. Her forehead was resting on my chest, and she nuzzled in close. My hands were shaking a bit I was so excited. I reached up carefully and stroked her hair with one hand, hearing her moan and giggle against me. She straightened and I got the full effect of the gorgeous Miss Lowes bound and gagged. She looked even more stunningly beautiful than normal, her eyes wide and bright above her gag, her body straining at her ropes. I think my jaw dropped again.
“Do you like it?” I asked. She nodded, wriggling and writhing against the ropes I had tied. She stood up, not using the table for support, and turned slightly either way to give me a good look, eying me coyly as she did so. I grinned and stepped a bit closer to her. “I think you look beautiful, Olive,” I said softly. She smiled behind the scarf and leaned closer to me, her soft silk encased breasts stroking against mine.
“Wwlll www pllmmm wwpphh mmm bbbppphhttph?” She asked me. It took me a minute to work out what she meant, the gag was so effective. I raised my hands a little hesitantly and moved them towards her chest.
“You want me to play with your breasts? Like this?” I asked. She nodded happily.
“Mmm hmm,” she sighed. I tried to seem relaxed as I let my hands stray to her breasts and start to stroke them gently. She sighed again, leaning into me, her body warm and silky and soft. I carried on running my hands over her breasts and started to work them up her body towards the buttons down her front. I slipped my right hand into her blouse and onto her warm, smooth skin. She moaned and pressed herself against me a bit more.
I let my left hand slide up her body until I was cupping her face with my hand, and then I kissed her on her gagged lips, letting my tongue slide over her bottom lip, sucking it gently, feeling her silk gag with my own lips. The sensation was amazing, sending thrills up and down my spine. Miss Lowes moaned again, a hint of frustration in her voice as she tried to push into me further.
I let my hands slide over her a little more, pushed my fingers down into her blouse and felt that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She giggled and twisted her body into me, her breath warm on my neck. I looked at her with mock horror and whispered, “Why, Olive, did you forget to wear a bra today?”
“Mmm hmm,” she said, putting on an innocent face and nodding. I grinned and massaged her breasts, my fingers working her nipples into hard nubs. Her cheeks were flushed slightly, and she looked at me hungrily. I kissed her gagged mouth again, enjoying the feeling of the silk on her plump lips. Miss Lowes moaned as she pressed her breasts into me, her hips sliding towards me. I slipped an arm around her so she didn’t fall over.
My hand slid lower. I undid her blouse buttons as I went, running my hands down her body until I got to the waistband of her skirt. I looked at her with a smile and she nodded quickly. I turned her around slightly so both my hands could work on her skirt and I undid the button and the zip, letting her skirt float to the ground. She groaned with excitement. I let my hand slide across her buttocks, smooth and warm, and I pinged the elastic of the black satin thong she was wearing gently. She looked over her shoulder at me and sighed.
“Sorry,” I whispered in her ear. “Couldn’t resist,” I said with a grin.
“Tuuuff mmm,” whispered Miss Lowes. I had to think about it a little until I worked out she has said ‘touch me’. I turned her a little to face me and my hand dipped between her legs, rubbing against the sensitive skin there. Miss Lowes groaned heavily, a hungry look on her face.
I was about to pull the thong down when there was a knock on the door. My blood froze and I snapped my head round. Miss Lowes looked horrified, and started to struggle against the gag, pushing at it with her tongue. The door handle started to turn and I hurried to pull the scarf out of Miss Lowes’ mouth, letting it hand around her neck.
“Just a minute, Henry,” she called with a quivering voice. The door handle stopped moving.
“Everything okay in there, Miss?” A male voice called.
“Just fine,” Miss Lowes said, regaining her composure. “Give me about five minutes to sort myself out Henry, okay?”
“Sure thing,” the male voice said. “Just knock on the caretakers’ door when you’re done,” he said. I could hear footsteps walking away. I realised I hadn’t been breathing throughout the whole thing, and I suddenly let my breath out. Miss Lowes did the same. She suddenly laughed and looked at me.
“Well, that was very nearly embarrassing.”
“Yeah,” I said. She grinned.
“Much as I hate to say it, you should probably untie me now, Ellie,” she said. “Get my hands and arms first, then I can help you with my legs,” she said.
I quickly untied the ropes around her wrists, still feeling embarrassed, and undid the ropes, winding it back into a coil. Miss Lowes had leaned down slightly to untie her own legs at the knee, so I worked on the ropes around her upper body. “That was lovely, by the way,” Miss Lowes said.
“Really?”
“Oh yes,” she told me, smiling. “It’s a shame we were disturbed.”
“Yeah,” I said, realising how excited I was by the whole thing. I finally got the ropes around her upper body loose and unwrapped them. Miss Lowes finished with her knees and dropped the rope onto the desk, and I dropped down to untie her ankles. She was doing up the buttons on her blouse.
“Nifty work with the buttons, Ellie,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said, still a bit embarrassed, although most of that had given way to excitement.
“Could you pass me my skirt please, love,” she said. She’d called me that before, but the way she said it this time seemed different, exciting. I pulled her skirt up, and she leaned over, her hair falling in a cascade over me, and took it from me. She planted a small kiss on my head. I flushed red, happy she couldn’t see my face as I untied her ankles.
I dropped the rope onto the desk and stood up, watching as Miss Lowes finished doing her skirt up and reached up to untie the scarf around her neck. There was a slightly damp patch in the centre where it had been in her mouth. She slipped the knot loose and took it off, folding it quickly and carefully and placing it back in the box.
I went and picked up my bag, and Miss Lowes joined me a moment later, adjusting her blouse. She did up her belt again and then grabbed her bag from the floor by her desk. I felt awkward suddenly, like I didn’t know what to do. Miss Lowes collected all the ropes and pushed them into her shoulder bag, a soft dark brown leather thing of beauty, and then put the scarf inside. She winked at me. “Can you do the blinds, Ellie?”
“Sure,” I said, happy to have something to do. I pulled the blinds up, then joined Miss Lowes by the door. She was pulling her car keys out of her bag.
“Need a lift?”
“Um, sure, that would be good,” I said. She nodded and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor with me following. We walked quickly towards the exit. Miss Lowes knocked on the caretakers’ door as we went, and she pointed towards her car. She hadn’t needed to, it was the only one left in the car park. It was a dark blue Audi A3, and it had tinted windows at the back.
“That was fun, huh?” She asked as we headed to the car.
“Yep,” I said, feeling some of the embarrassment going away.
“Want to… maybe… do it again some time?” She asked, a little shy.
“That would be good,” I said, equally shy.
“Great,” Miss Lowes said, grinning broadly at me. She opened the passenger door for me, then paused, then looked at me. “You sure?”
“Try and stop me,” I told her.
“You’re brilliant, Ellie,” she told me. “Let’s get you home, before your mum starts to worry,” she added.
“Probably best,” I said.