#blueberry shibari too why not

[ultimaratiovaccinium]

I don't know why we never thought to do this before.

Hell, we even keep the ropes next to the gum. The idea was staring us in the face all along.

I kneel on the bed and she slides in behind me, looping the bight under my tits. I close my eyes, trying to shut out everything but the feel of the hemp as she pulls it over my shoulders and around my back. She's tying things a little loose, and it feels weird, but it's probably better that way.

She pats my butt to let me know that she's finished, and I pop up to my knees to give her room to tie a harness around my hips. She fumbles and swears to herself a couple of times, and then swings around in front of me.

"I need you to lay back," she says, before playfully shoving me backwards. I let myself topple, and she continues webbing me with rope. I guess looser ties don't fight gravity very well. Won't be a problem for too long, I think to myself.

"Okay," she says, tying off my hips, "open up."

I let her slip the half-piece of gum in my mouth, but then I think about refusing to chew. What, after all, would be brattier than not playing along? What if I just took my toys and went home? Unfortunately, she's already bound my ankles to the bed, legs spread wide apart, so I have room to grow.

She slides up and looks me in the eye. "Chew."

I do what I'm told.

The flavor is always way too intense starting out, almost chemical, in a way. Its' like when they get the mix wrong in the slushy machine and it's all syrup. Cloying, too sweet, too bright, too fruity. It's hard not to drool blue all over the pillows, but I know better than to actually misbehave.

Like clockwork, as the flavor begins to mellow I feel the telltale warmth deep in my belly. Chewing was a chore before, now it becomes compulsive, thoughtless.

When people write stories about things like this, especially people who've never been through it, they always go on and on about the pressure and the fear and the intensity, but it's never been like that for me.

It does feel incredible, though. They get that part right.

The warmth grows inside me, filling me up, and, when it runs out of room, I begin to grow. I start to lose myself in the feeling of swelling around the juice inside me, when the ropes begin to pull tight across my belly.

I don't mean to, but I arch back and moan deeply, letting a little rivulet of blue dribble onto the pillows. Oops. She chuckles, and we both know I'll pay for ruining her linens yet again.

The feeling is so sharp now, and I lose my mind a little as my skin begins to fight against the hemp. The warmth spreads outward from my middle, spilling into my thighs and my chest, filling everything it can find.

I can feel the knots all over me begin to pull tight as I fill out the webs of rope. I spill out of the gap between the harnesses, and the little part of me that still feels human is silently grateful that we started with something small and easy. The other part of me, the one that's taking over, wants to be squeezed like overripe fruit through fine mesh until there's nothing left but a small ocean of dark blue juice. That's new.

I start to puff through the voids in the harnesses, the cool sensation of the air against my taut skin colliding with the burning where the ropes are holding me back. I start to wonder whether they'll break before I do, but I put that thought away. My breasts are swelling faster than they normally do, even though I only have half a dose in me. They start to obscure my view of things happening lower down, but not before I see her climb in between my swelling thighs.

It's way too soon for me to be leaking, but I feel her tongue against me, and I convulse. soon enough she reappears, mouth stained blue with a look in her eye like I've probably ruined another mattress.

The gum is flavorless now, but I keep chewing. She hasn't told me to stop yet. Still, I feel the growth slow to a crawl. The warmth begins to dissipate, so I give my arms and legs a cursory wiggle.

I'm so full, and still tied down, but I can tell that I'm not round enough. I can't help it. Somewhere, far away in my brain, I know this is a test run, but I keep chewing so frantically, hoping to swell just a little bit more. I almost want to cry.

I'm supposed to be a giant, juicy balloon, not this weird little excuse for an adult human woman.

I guess she can feel my desperate fidgeting, because she crawls up and lays beside me.

"Hey, big girl," she says, wiping bright blue tears off my cheek. "I know you want more, but I think we need to juice you. These ropes look about ready to goosh you to pieces."

I want to say "Let them!" but I know that's the juice talking.

"I know," she says, like she's reading my mind. "It's not fair, but we need to be safe."

I pout harder.

She knows better than to negotiate with terrorists, though. "What are you going to do about it?" she asks, feigning innocence. "You're tied down tight, and too juicy to move." She reaches over, grabs one move my engorged nipples, and squeezes hard. Dark blue juice sprays the wall behind her as I yowl in ecstasy. "Oh no, are you going to squirt on me until I do what you want?" she asks, squeezing again.

"Just cut the ropes off," I beg, trying to think of anything that might free me up to grow safely.

"Sorry, babe," she says, genuinely apologetic. "The rope's too tight now. I don't think I could get the scissors in there without risking popping you."

"I'm going to juice you," she says. "Do you want business, or pleasure?"

I'm too frustrated to cum right now, stuck like I am between one self and another. "Business," I mumble. Fuck orgasms. I'd rather just get this over with.

She smiles gently, and scrambles up onto my massive belly, and grabs a nipple in each hand. Her weight feels amazing, and as she starts to milk giant spurts of juice out of my breasts, back and forth, back and forth, I realize that business may lead to pleasure regardless of how I feel.

Her whole body is swaying with the rhythm of her arms, and I feel a different kind of warmth start to build between my swollen thighs. I can feel every inch of the hemp biting into me, pulling me in so many directions. It feels so good to be her balloon, letting her tease and squeeze as she pleases.

I'm taken completely by surprise when I cum suddenly and violently. I can tell she is, too, because she falls off my quaking body backwards, getting doused by the juice gushing out of me. I'm absorbed by the orgasm wracking my body, and time loses meaning for a little while.

When I come to, panting, I realize that she's nowhere to be seen. Thankfully, I'm small enough now to slip out of the ropes around my wrists and ankles. I sit bolt upright, or, as bolt as I can at least. The residual juice is going to weigh me down a little until my body can process it naturally.

I call her name.

"Down here," says a stunned voice. I look over the foot of the bed.

She's laying there, eyes wide in shock, absolutely drenched in blue.

"Wow," she says.

"Are you okay?" I ask, scrambling to offer her a puffy, light blue hand.

"Look," she says, taking my hand, "that was so much fun, really."

"But?" I ask, trying not to hold my breath.

"... but we have got to find a way to do this that doesn't change my hair color."