Page 42 of The Shame Game

She wiggled experimentally, wincing when she realized that lying flat would very quickly put a strain on her lower back. She rarely slept on her back, and when she did, she had a pillow tucked under her knees. “Being flat for a long time will probably aggravate my back.”

He patted her thigh. “Thank you for telling me. Anything else?”

“No, Sir.”

“Good. Sit tight for a moment while I get you strapped in.”

He bent low, out of her line of sight. When he rose again, he had a flat fabric strap in his hand. “Scoot down just a bit.”

She complied, the vinyl rubbing against her skin again.

“That’s good. Hands at your sides.”

She moved her hands to the table, tucking them slightly under her hips so they wouldn’t slide off the narrow space, and he laid the strap across her belly. It was thickly padded on the side that would lie against her skin, and the fabric was something soft that wouldn’t chafe if she wiggled against it.

“Nick, would you get that side?” James said, and Amanda looked up to see their friend stepping up to the other side of the table.

She smiled up at him. She hadn’t seen him in a while, not since the night he’d brought Sadie and his girlfriend Rebecca over so they could go out for their monthly submissives meeting. She was fond of Nick, and even fonder of Rebecca, and she opened her mouth to offer a greeting, then faltered. He wasn’t looking at her, she realized, hadn’t glanced her way at all. He picked up the strap that James handed him and threaded it through the slot on the other side to yank it tight across her belly.

Her startled gasp was loud, and a little pained, but even then, he didn’t look at her.

“Too tight?” he asked, but he wasn’t asking her.

“Ease off just a touch,” James answered, and the strap loosened a fraction. “That should do.”

Nick secured it, then sidestepped up to the table and took the next strap as James handed it over. This one would lie across her arms and over her ribcage below her breasts. Nick fastened it down efficiently, once again checking with James on its placement and tightness without even looking at her and did the same with the strap positioned above her breasts.

“Hands?” Nick asked.

“I’m leaving them free, for now.” James decided. “Let’s get her legs.”

Both men moved down the table towards her feet, and Amanda tried to relax. Bondage was nothing new for her, and this kind of bondage wasn’t even that restrictive. She was strapped to the table, but she could move her hands and turn her head. Having her legs bound would immobilize her further, but that wasn’t new either. She liked bondage, she reminded herself. It turned her on. Even just the little they’d done so far was having a predictable effect—her nipples were hardening, and her pussy was already wet in anticipation. She was used to all that.

What she wasn’t used to was the anxiety that made her breath come short and her palms dampen. That was new and strange, and the fact that it seemed to be making her pussy wetter was even more strange.

“Amanda.” A sharp tap on her calf jerked her out of her thoughts. “Raise your legs.”

By his tone, this wasn’t the first time he’d asked. “Sorry, Sir,” she said, and lifted her legs.

A strong arm came under her knees, and she raised her head to look. Nick was holding her calves up while James fiddled with the table.Probably getting the straps in place, she thought, then there was a metallic shriek, and the bottom half of the table disappeared.

She jerked a little at the noise, and Nick’s grip on her legs tightened. James continued to fiddle with the table, clangs and clunks sounding as he worked. Then the table jerked a little, James said, “There we go,” and with one more metallic screech, a stirrup appeared.

Amanda was so shocked to see it that Nick had set her leg in it and had it strapped down before she could react. The knee brace was padded, and the same type of sturdy straps that held her torso wrapped around her leg above and below the knee. A third strap secured her foot to the footrest. Her leg was comfortably supported and completely immobilized.

A small sound of distress slipped from her lips as the other leg was similarly positioned and secured, then James was back at her side, his hand resting on her belly. He bent low, his mouth next to her ear. “All right?”

“Stirrups?” she managed faintly.

“Stirrups,” he said firmly. “Give me a color.”

“Green, with a bright yellow streak,” she answered, and drew in a deep, hopefully steadying breath. Her legs were spread apart, not garishly so, but enough that air swirled over her exposed genitals like a cool breath. She was wet, her inner thighs slick, and to her consternation, the knowledge made her blush, which somehow made her even wetter.

“Good to know,” he said mildly. “Remember, I’ll be with you the whole time, even if you can’t see or hear me.”

“Why won’t I be able to see or hear you?” she asked, panic making her voice squeak.

“Because,” he said cryptically, and raised an eyebrow when she opened her mouth to protest. “Trust me?”

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