Playing with Rizz while out camping (F/F)

[Fay4you]

I feel relaxed. I look at Rizz lazily.

"Hmm, how would I handle you tonight? Any suggestions?"

I look at the tent's central pole. Could be used to tie Rizz up.

“Humm…” she smirks. “Maybe like a most dangerous spy? That mustn’t escape under any circumstances?”

"Yes!" I grab the longest rope from the small pile and tie it into a short lasso. I start to stalk Rizz. The tent isn't that big, so Rizz has no way to escape.

Rizz, giggling, is grasping the sense of it quickly. Despite the obviously futility of the try, she tries to avoid the capture, almost dancing light-footedly. She is wearing a blouse, a skirt of the length to the middle of the calves and slippers.

“Lemme go!” she pleads playfully. “I won’t tell anything, anyway!”

It takes me three tries in the small room, but then the lasso catches Rizz around her middle. She manages to free hee arms, but I pull the lasso tight around her.

"Got you!"

I pull Rizz with her back against the central tent pole and quickly tie the lasso around the pole and her middle

"Ha, I have you know. Put your hands on your back. Resistance is futile."

Rizz, trying to subdue her squeaking in delight, let herself being pulled back. She considers a moment or two to deny your demand, but decides against it. She simply cannot disobey you, and surely not in a situation and a place like this…

She places her hands, one into the other behind her and the pole…

I grunt softly as Rizz offers me her wrists. So easily she submits. I tie her wrists together behind the pole with a soft leather strap. And as her wrist are tied together I wrap the rest of the strap around the pole and tie it off.

"Now I kneel for you again today Rizz."

I get on my knees to tie her ankles to the pole one by one, tightly. I get up again. I kiss Rizz on the mouth.

I take another leather strap. I kiss her mouth again. And while I kiss her deeply I put the strap to her throat and around the pole. I break the kiss to tie it off.

I take a step backwards. I grin as I see Rizz standing very stiffly against the pole, almost on tiptoes.

"You look beautiful my captive."

Rizz, responding to this treatment by moaning and sighing almost constantly, is in a bliss. How is it possible she has earned so much careful attention? Each and every kiss is an outstanding boon, something to cherish and to respond most affectionally.
Now she is connected to that pole tightly, wondering if her princess has some torments in store, or more delicate entertainment. No matter what – she is here to please.

“Not as beautiful as my captor. I am vanquished…”

"Hmm,.. Still talking? Let's remedy that."

I pick up a scarf.

"Open your mouth."

I use the scarf as a gag, tying Rizz's head to the pole. She can make noises, but no longer speak. I kiss her nose.

"Let me free, what you've been hiding."

I start to unbutton Rizz's blouse from the top down. Because she is straightened out against the pole her breasts are almost popping out. I have to work the buttons carefully, but as they give her bossom opens up nicely.

A muffled “hmmmzzzzmmmzzzzmph” or something like this.
Rizz’ fingers are flailing helplessly, she is aroused, as her nipples betray. And her eyes betray devotion. If not more…

I let Rizz blouse hang open. I don't remove it from her shoulders yet.

Instead I grab a rope and start at her ankles. A loop, a knot, and then an other loop a bit higher around her lower legs, binding them tightly to each other and the pole.

Rizz squirms, but slowly, in a relaxed way. She absolutely enjoys the attention she’s got and to be immobilized even more! As a kid she was tied once or twice to a tree, but nothing to be compared with this experience!

But – how far these loops will go?

I keep looping and tying, a kind of running stitch. In three loops I reach the hem of Rizz's dress. I push the dress upward for the next loop.

With every loop I rais the dress a bit further. If the dress gets in the way, I temporarily stuff a bit of the cloth in the loop, only to pull it out and lift it further when I do the next loop.

I focus solely on tying her legs together and to the pole.

Rizz feels the heat inside of hers, and would like to look at you, but the fixing of her head denies that.
“Oummhoumblllzzzzz!”

When I get halfway Rizz's thighs, I look up. I can see her breasts bobbing softly with excitement under her loosely open hanging blouse.

What am I going to do with her skirt? It's hanging wadded up around Rizz's lower abdomen.

I stand up and roughly raise Rizz skirt up to above her hips, exposing her under garments. I tie her dress around the pole to keep it in position.

I take a step back and look at Rizz's bound from. Her skirt unceremonishly huddled up. I grin.

I take hold of her blouse on both sides. Slowly I lift her blouse off her shoulders and down her arms. I have to shuffle it between her back and the pole.

"Hmm,... You are looking beautiful Rizz,..."

I bent down and grab her knickers,...

Rizz eyes have been following you as much as you allowed to do so, and she moaned. He little roughness is just the goblin-way, and she could handle more, much more, what it does is to enhance her arousal. The increasing exposure of her body adds additional emotion.

“Ounnggglluff”
She comments. Her eyes are big and happy, but she does not think she would be beautiful, pretty, yes, but to her you are beautiful.

And her knickers are damp…

I planned to pull down Rizz's knickers to the loop around her thighs. But the sight of her damp rumpled knickers is arousing as it is. I decide to leave them as they are and leave Rizz a little modesty.

I pick up the running stitchwork again. With a loop around her upper thighs I near her crotch. As I tighten it Rizz thighs are pressed together. The next loop will be over her fanny.

"Hmm, let's do it a bit differently."

I pull the last loop, the one just below her crotch, loose. I grin. And instead of trying Rizz upper thighs together, this time I push the rope between her thighs. I'm going to loop her left and right thigh to the pole seperately. There isn't much room to wiggle the rope between her legs, but Rizz doesn't seem to mind when I'm fiddling just under her crotch.

As I pull the loop around her left thigh tight Rizz crotch area opens up a little.

"Yes that's more to my liking."

Now the right thigh. Again I need to push the rope through between her legs. I prod and wiggle. I use my fingers to make room for the end of the rope to be pushed trough.

Once that's done I pull the loop around Rizz's right thigh tight too.

Rizz's eyes widen as she realizes what I'm doing: leaving her exposed and vulnerable, her thighs held apart by taut ropes anchored to the central pole. Her breathing hitches behind the scarf-gag, shallow and rapid. The dampness on her knickers deepens visibly, darkening the thin fabric clinging to her skin. Her toes curl inside her slippers as she shifts her weight, straining against the restraints—not to escape, but to press closer to my touch.

I run a finger along the rope crossing her inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. Her whole body tenses, then shudders as my knuckles brush against the soaked fabric between her legs. The scent of her arousal fills the air—musky and sweet, mingling with the leather-and-canvas smell of the tent.

She lets out a muffled whimper, high-pitched and desperate, her hips twitching forward instinctively. But the pole holds her firm, denying her any relief. Her blouse hangs open, revealing how her nipples have hardened into tight peaks, flushed and begging for attention.

I lean in, my breath warm against her ear. "Patience, Rizz," I murmur, tracing the outline of her knickers with my thumb. "The night’s just beginning." Her answering groan vibrates against the gag, raw and needy, as I step back to admire my handiwork—every rope, every exposed inch of her, a testament to her helpless devotion.

With deliberate slowness, I pick up another length of rope, coarse hemp this time. Starting just below her ribs, I wrap it twice around her waist and the pole, cinching it tight enough to make her gasp. The rope bites into her soft flesh, pulling her blouse taut against her breasts. I weave upward in a crisscross pattern, each pass framing her ribs higher, tighter. Her breathing grows shallow, each inhale lifting her chest toward me like an offering.

The next loop catches just beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly, straining against the thin fabric of her blouse. I pause, running a finger along the swell where rope meets skin. Her muffled cry sounds like surrender. One final wrap—higher now—anchoring just above her breasts, pinning her shoulders flush against the pole. Her body arcs instinctively, pressing into the restraints, every muscle trembling.

Her eyes lock onto mine, wide and dark with desperation. Sweat glistens on her collarbones. The ropes dig into her skin, leaving angry red lines that pulse with her heartbeat. She’s utterly exposed: bound, gagged, and straining, her arousal soaking through the thin fabric still clinging to her. I smile, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Beautiful," I whisper. "Now… let’s see what else you’re hiding."

I kneel again, my fingers tracing the damp outline of her knickers. The scent is intoxicating—salt and musk and something uniquely Rizz. She bucks against the ropes, a muffled sob escaping the gag. With deliberate slowness, I hook my thumbs under the waistband and tug downward. The fabric catches on her hips, clinging stubbornly. I lean in, biting lightly through the cotton. She gasps, arching violently.

The knickers slide down her thighs, bunching at the ropes. Her skin is flushed, trembling. I pause, breathing in the humid warmth between her legs. Her hips jerk, seeking contact. But I pull back, watching her shudder. "Not yet," I murmur, running a fingertip along her inner thigh. She whimpers, high and broken.

Above us, rain begins drumming on the canvas—a sudden downpour. The sound fills the tent, drowning her ragged breaths. Water seeps through a seam near the pole, dripping onto her bare shoulder. She flinches at the cold, then moans as I drag my wet thumb across her nipple. The storm outside mirrors the one inside her: relentless, wild. I grin. "Listen to that, Rizz. Even the sky’s watching."

My fingers slide beneath the bunched fabric of her knickers, grazing the damp curls between her legs. She jerks against the ropes, a muffled cry tearing from her throat. The scent of her arousal sharpens—musky and sweet like overripe plums left in the sun. I trace the swollen folds slowly, deliberately, feeling her tremble. Every gasp vibrates against the gag. Her thighs strain against the ropes holding them apart, muscles taut as bowstrings.

Leaning close, I lick the rainwater from her collarbone. Salt and sweat mingle on my tongue. "You’re dripping everywhere," I whisper against her ear. Her hips buck helplessly, seeking friction. I pull my hand away, leaving her shuddering. The knickers cling precariously to her thighs, dark and soaked. Outside, thunder cracks. The tent pole groans as she writhes.

[Nainur]

A hot premiere, I'd say

(you should tag the story as F/F, btw.)