A Little Tied Up

I was on the edge of ejaculating when I heard heavy steps coming up the stairs to my room.

I was completely naked, and had myself tied spread eagle on the bed. For the last half hour I had been playing with myself using my free right hand, alternately using my fingers and the loose end of the rope to tickle as much of my body as I could reach. The rope had a loop and some knots tied at the end to make it a more interesting toy. I could loop it over my penis with the knots hanging down between my legs, or snake it around randomly through my chest and belly fur.

I would try to drag the rope up the length of my leg, keeping the knots centered on the ridge as I dragged them from my lower leg over the knee all the way to my groin without falling off. The rope's weight would sometimes pull it off center, where it would brush down the outside of my leg sending chills over my skin, or down the inside between my legs, where it would get perilously close to my bottom or perineum. If it brushed my scrotum it sent a jolt through my body, getting me close to an orgasm. I tried to touch my genitals as seldom as possible to drag out the suspense and titillation, focusing on my ticklish underbelly, groin, nipples, and down my sides. I had brought myself to the edge several times this way, and that's where I was when I heard someone start up the stairs.

In a panic I grabbed the thin white blanket I had by my side and flicked it over to cover my nakedness. It was tucked in at the foot of the bed, so I pulled it taught and let it settle over me. Had I locked the door? Crap! The steps were almost to the top of the stairs.

I looked down to check that the blanket was covering me, adjusting the left side to cover my arm where it was tied over my head. The rope was covered too - good. I put my right hand down over my stomach, trying to look nonchalant as I heard the steps reach the landing. Thankfully my panic and the slow walk up the stairs had given my penis time to fully deflate, so it was tucked down to the right towards my leg, not tenting the blanket.

There was a quick knock on the door, then I heard the knob turn and the door opened.

It was John, my former teacher and coach, now a fellow staff member. After college and student teaching I had come back to teach at my old high school. John had since become the full-time school nurse, no longer coaching, but still teaching a few classes. Recently I had started helping out as staff sponsor on the yearbook. I still did some photography as a hobby, and used the school's dark room for much the same purposes as I had as a student. I generally avoided taking pictures of John, though, still embarrassed about the incident with my errant roll of film.

When John walked in, I was thrilled and terrified at the same time. No matter how many times you fantasize about someone catching you naked or jerking off, your body automatically panics anyway. I could have kicked myself for leaving that stupid door unlocked! All the fun scenarios I had just been using, many of them involving John, fled from my mind. I fought to stay cool, to find a way out of this embarrassing situation.

"I'm sorry," John said, "I was just checking to see if you were coming out to the movie with the rest of us. Are you feeling OK?"

I had a sudden fear that my right side, which was facing the door, wasn't fully covered. I forced myself not to look down and check. The blanket was angling down from my left shoulder, covering my left nipple but not my right, angling down across my belly to my right hip, but I couldn't feel if it was actually covering my hip and butt. Maybe if he was at the right angle it wouldn't be obvious.

"I'm OK, I've just been tired all day. I thought I'd call it an early night." Then I kicked myself again - it was only 4:30. John looked at his watch, concerned, then came over to the edge of the bed and sat beside me. Of course - the nurse had to investigate. He put the back of his hand on my forehead, slid it down to my temple.

"You're kind of warm," he said.

He turned and pulled his knee up on the bed so he could sit sideways and get better access to me. He was so close to me, and only a thin blanket between him and my naked skin. My penis had woken up as he touched my forehead, and his wiggling of the bed wasn't helping. It wouldn't take much for an erection to lift the light blanket enough to make an obvious tent. It was already filling itself up again, lengthening over to the right side and beginning to thicken.

John reached up and took my wrist, tucking his forefinger and middle finger around to check my radial pulse. He left my arm resting on top of my belly, counting respirations while counting a pulse at the same time. For thirty seconds I tried unsuccessfully not to notice his fingers touching my naked skin, rising up and down with my breaths. I tried, and failed, not to think about how my penis was slowly reacting to his touch.

"Sheesh, your heart is racing, and it feels like you've been sweating." He pressed his left hand into my chest hair, feeling the dampness there. That was too much for my penis to take, and it jerked halfway upright. He must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he looked down to see the growing tent.

I blushed furiously, and John gave a big smile of understanding. "Well, that would explain the racing heart, and your flushed face," he said.

For a few moments he watched the tent going up below my stomach. My penis was under there, bent to the right, filling a little more with each heart beat, the weight of the blanket giving way with each pulse as it straightened up higher, higher, until it was almost vertical. There was no doubt about what was happening beneath the blanket.

John looked up at me with a big grin. "Are you naked under there?"

In answer, my penis, the traitor, gave one last jerk to stand at full attention under the blanket, pulling the right edge that was draped over my hip just enough that it drifted over revealing the outside of my right hip and buttocks.

"I guess so," John chuckled, that deep earthy chuckle of his that I always loved to hear. He stayed on the bed where he was and moved his hand back to his own leg, turning to see what was on display before him.

"Do you remember when I found that film of yours and developed it -- was that ten years ago now?"

"Eight," I said, "I was a senior."

John's left hand was still on my chest, and he had started moving his thumb back and forth almost imperceptibly, maybe unconsciously, as he spoke. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but was gazing far away, remembering.

"You don't know how often I wished I had kept a set of those pictures for myself," he said, "totally inappropriate as that would have been."

I was flabbergasted -- never had he ever made any indication of being gay, or even curious. I thought that had been completely my own fantasizing.

He went on. "Did you know I kept copies of the ones you took of me, though?"

I shook my head.

"You probably noticed I had..." he paused, "...a bit of a hard on..." He blushed; this was probably the first time he had said that to another guy, and I smiled at the cuteness of it. I nodded.

"I did really like that one, and the one looking up my pant leg. It actually turned me on knowing that you had copies of them."

He blushed harder and looked down. He was breathing deeply, and his face was as bright red as mine had been eight years ago - when he watched me go through the pictures I had taken of my own genitals. He was still moving his thumb back and forth through my chest hair, more than subconsciously now, I thought.

"But I always wished I had kept a few of yours, too. You don't suppose..." he paused, "...I could get another look... at the real thing?"

He was looking down at my belly, beet red, breathing quietly. His thumb had stopped moving. He reminded me of a scared rabbit, ready to dart away at any sign of danger, scared that I might freak out probably. Funny I had always worried about the same thing from him.

I nodded, and he took a deep shuddering breath, like a huge weight had lifted off his back. His thumb twitched back and forth once, then he pulled his hand off my chest and sat up. He was no longer beet red, and a look of anticipation was on his face, his lips closed with his tongue peeking out in a look I recognized on him as concentration. I raised my right hand and put it behind my head, getting comfortable.

Then I remembered the rope.

John took in the view from my right side, where half of my chest and belly were in view. His eyes traveled from my right elbow down past my armpit, along my side, my love handle, down to the hip and then my right buttock, where the blanket finally reached down to cover the rest of my leg. It was an odd sensation having someone look at me while I was naked, like I could almost feel his gaze on my skin, causing little chills as it passed down my side. Just having him look was getting me fully riled up again, and my breathing was getting deeper and faster. This was conflicting with my increasing fear of what would happen when he found I was tied down under the blanket.

After getting a good view of my right side, John walked around the foot of the bed and came up on my left side. I looked away when he reached down to take the blanket covering my left arm, too scared to watch. I felt the blanket lift off my arm and chest, then settle to drape over my waist, so only my upper body was uncovered.

I snuck a glance back at John and saw him staring at the rope tying my wrist to the corner of the headboard. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows expressively, his grin widening.

"Looks like you were having some fun up here," and he reached down to tug at the rope, which was tightly secured. It had a slip knot for a quick release using my other hand. The free end was hanging down on the floor, plenty long and with the loop and knots at the end. John bent down and slid the length hard under the bed where it slid out the other side. He walked back around the foot of the bed to my right side and picked it up again.

"I think I might have to stay home from the movie tonight too," he said, taking my right hand from behind my head and pulling it gently towards him. He moved the rope towards it, and I didn't resist. He raised his eyebrows again, as if in question, and I nodded, hardly daring to believe what he was thinking of.

Holding my wrist in one hand he wrapped the rope around the headboard rail with the other. Then, looping the rope around my wrist, he tied it there securely. I watched and saw he used the same slip knot for easy release. But he would have to be then one to pull the release cord, as both of my hands were now securely fastened over my head. Now I was truly spread eagled. I pulled my wrists up to test, and they each had a few inches of give but no more. I wasn't going anywhere unless John untied me.

John walked down to the foot of the bed, drawing one finger down my arm from the underside of my wrist, through my armpit, down the side right to my hip. After all the pent-up sexual tension from stimulating myself for half an hour, then his physical proximity to my nakedness and our frank conversation, now being tied down and at his mercy -- his touch set me right off. A prolonged shiver ran down my body at his touch, a warm wave passed through me and almost erupted through my loins. I gasped and flexed my whole body, straining not to have an orgasm while John was watching. I took big gasping breaths in and out and clenched my pelvic muscles, tried to hold my urinary sphincter tight like I was trying to keep from peeing. John was at the foot of the bed now, watching me fight off an orgasm with rapt attention.

Finally, I overcame the instinctive reflex of my nervous system to cum and was able to relax, taking huge calming breaths and staring at the ceiling. I had come so close that when I relaxed my pelvic muscles I felt a flow of pre-ejaculate escape, oozing out of my fully erect penis and soaking right through the blanket to make a half dollar sized wet spot at the peak of the tent between my legs.

"Well, that was something, wasn't it?" John said, chuckling again. "You almost came from that little touch on your arm. I'd better let you rest for a minute, or you're going to blow a load before I can even get you uncovered."

I couldn't even respond, I was still trying to back myself off from the edge, breathing deeply and trying to think of anything other than what John was talking about, which had been the things of my fantasies for almost a decade. He had me tied down, and now he was talking about getting me uncovered.

While my breathing settled, I stared up at the ceiling. At the edge of my vision I could see John unbuttoning the cuffs of his long sleeve dress shirt, then rolling each sleeve up above his elbows. I looked down and enjoyed the reddish-brown fur covering his thick forearms. He had taken his tie off already before coming to my room, and the top button of his shirt was open, showing a tuft of that same fur on his chest. I was pretty hairy myself, but I had always envied the thick fur covering most of John's body, I had wanted to run my fingers through it since I was a teenager.

Now John reached down and un-tucked the blanket from the bottom of the bed, taking one corner in each hand and pulling out the slack. With slow control he pulled gently, and the top edge of the blanket started to slide down below my waist. The middle of the blanket was held there tucked over my erection and stuck slightly by the wetness of my pre-cum, so it formed the point of a narrowing triangle as the blanket drew down to reveal the tops of both of my thighs. With a little flick of his wrists John twitched the edges of the blanket inward, so both edges fell between my legs. But the lip of the blanket still hung from my stiff penis, the blanket drawn taught between it and John's hands.

He brought his hands together, so the blanket was hanging in one straight line from his hands to my groin. The weight of the blanket pulled my penis down at a 45 degree angle, so it was pointing straight at John. He drew his hands over to my right foot, and the penis pointed that way. He drew them to the left, and it pointed to my left foot. I was like an ox, yoked by my manhood - and John held the reins. He guided me left, then right again, enjoying the implied control over my body.

John was playing a game with my penis, but he wasn't even touching me.

Gently, he put the reins down over the edge of the bed, and they held my penis down at an even lower angle, the friction just barely enough to keep the blanket covering it. If my erection softened even a little it felt as though the blanket would fall, completely exposing me. At this point my genitals had still managed to escape John's view.

Again, John walked up my right side, enjoying the view of my naked body splayed before him and secured for his viewing pleasure. From there, he could get a glimpse of the base of my penis where the blanket fell away from it, and all of my pubic area, maybe even the top edge of my scrotum. He was taking his sweet time, now that he had me on display, and again I was tingling all over as his eyes seemed physically to brush along my body hair.

I had never come this close to cumming so many times before, and this time without any physical stimulation at all. It was all I could do to breath deeply and keep myself from going over the edge. I flexed my penis, constricting the urethral sphincter again, and the movement caused the edges of the blanket hanging down to brush along either side of my scrotum, and when I relaxed it again I felt another small flow of pre-cum escape to widen the wet spot that was just about the only thing keeping the blanket in place. John watched this drama intently as he walked back down to his spot between my legs, where he picked up his end of the blanket again.

Imperceptibly John began to pull the blanket away from me, stretching my erection straight down towards him, so slowly I wasn't even sure he was pulling. Then the stickiness holding the fabric to the tip of my penis separated, and the blanket slid one inch further, then two, until the ridge at the top of my glans was just barely holding it back. The next moment the blanket pulled off and my last covering was gone.

With the weight holding it down gone, the shaft of my penis sprung back spritely and the glans hit the lower curve of my belly with a whispered thwack. After tapping my stomach once it stood straight back up at full attention, quivering, dipping with every heart beat. There was a thin string of pre-cum trailing in a silver thread from my belly to the tip of my penis.

I could feel my complete nakedness almost like a blanket settling over me as John stared at me - all of me. It was a nakedness more complete than just my skin being visible, more than just having my genitals in full view. It was being seen in such obvious sexual arousal, my phallus standing at full readiness to complete its climax, so full of ready semen that it was leaking out the tip waiting for the final signal to go. It was being tied down, spread out on display for him to watch. It was the knowledge that he knew I had been masturbating and had not yet cum. It was the knowledge that he was going to watch me while I ejaculated, while I went past that point of no return where I would be helpless to control what my body was doing.

John put down the blanket and absently reached out for my right foot. He lightly cupped his fingers around the top, and rubbed his thumb firmly up the sole from the heel, across the arch, to the ball of my foot.

And that was all it took to finish me off.

From my curling toes the hot wave spread up through my legs and entered my buttocks, drawing them together as they raised slightly off the bed, pushing my waist up, raising my erect flag pole high.

My belly clenched and I involuntarily sucked in a gasp of breath through my teeth.

And as John watched, I ejaculated.

The warmth filling my scrotum erupted, and the first shot of semen leapt in a looping arc from my penis over my right shoulder, just grazing the side of my beard. The next shot made it up to the right side of my chest, beading up in my chest hair in a line crossing my nipple and pooling at the crease between my chest and stomach. My butt remained in the air as five or six volleys shot out of me, then I involuntarily thrust in time as the next five or six squirts piled up in ever shortening lines across my stomach. I collapsed back down on the bed as four or five more pumps of semen loped out, the last few pulses oozing out to drip down along the topside of my penis, pooling at its base in the pubic hair. A few more flexes of the penis sent shudders through my body and up my arms as my breathing came out in gasps, slowly going back to normal.

During my whole orgasm John had kept his hand on my foot, his thumb pressed solidly into the sole. Now he reached out and took the other foot in the same grip and drew both thumbs up again. This extra and unexpected stimulation caused me to arch up again, raising my butt off the bed and sending two or three more mini-squirts onto my lower belly before I collapsed back again.

John laughed out loud at this, a big belly laugh of joy and surprise at seeing me brought to such an orgasm with just a simple touch. He reached up and dried his eyes with his knuckles, still chuckling and staring at the pools of ejaculate and the movement of my penis. It was still fully upright, but the erection was softening subtly, the glans not so full, now slightly smaller than the rest of the penis. As he watched, it began to slowly deflate over the course of a full minute, dipping down minutely with each heart beat, until it was curving back down toward my right thigh. Once its tip touched my leg it began to shorten, until it was laying flat, pointing back up toward my belly and slightly to the right, its soft underside bunching up where it attached to the glans.