A lesbian jogger (the gentle touch)

The Bard's heart pounded with a blend of humiliation and thrill. From the window the group watched their friend, tied naked beneath the spotlight wash of silver light, her auburn hair filtered into a coolly brown-pink, her naked skin glowing in the light.

Minutes passed, with nothing but the wind and the occasional hum of cars passing by.

Then came the rhythmic sound of sneakers on pavement.

A jogger approached from the darkness, alternately lit and consumed by the night as she passed from streetlight to streetlight. She was broad-shouldered, with cropped blonde hair and a firm physique in all the ways that mattered, topped off by a confident stride. Her strong, angular face gave her a butch appearance - and if that wasn't enough the silver nose ring around her nostril gave it away altogether. She slowed as she neared, taking in the sight of the bound woman abandoned ahead of her on the sidewalk. "Well, now," the jogger murmured, tugging out her earbuds,"didn’t... uhm- expect to see this on my evening route." Was someone playing a prank on her or was there some kind Samaritan leaving presents behind? She read the paper message taped above her head twice, then looked the Bard up and down, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Feel free to use you, huh?" The Bard's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she squirmed slightly against the pole, panting invitingly against the ball gag. The jogger stepped closer. “Guess I’ll take that literally.”

She reached out and brushed the Bard’s shoulders, fingers tracing the line of her neck before roaming downward. The Bard shuddered as she was being explored by a stranger with unabashed curiosity. The Bard's breath bitched when the jogger leaned in closer, planting a few soft kisses along her neck. Her hands roamed freely, alternating between tender strokes and playful squeezes, testing the boundaries. As her hands slipped lower she gave a teasing > slap < against the Bard's hips, the sound shockingly loud in the suburb's stillness. The Bard's thoughts raced; what if someone else saw them? Another random passerby or a neighbor drawn by the sound, watching her get publicly fondled by a handsome butch. The jogger could at least flee the scene, but she would stay behind - her naked, duct taped body more exposed than ever. What if that person decided they wanted to have a go at her too? These anxieties flushed from her mind as the jogger's palms cupped and squeezed her boobs, gently at first, and then more firmly, her fingers kneading and squishing the Bard’s soft tits as if testing their weight. Her thumbs brushed lightly over each nipple, slowly caressing them. The Bard tried to hold still, but every stroke made her shudder against her partner's exploring grip. The Bard whimpered faintly, a heat coiling in her chest, her gasped responses seemingly coaxing the jogger to continue.

After a moment, the jogger reached the vibrator dangling loosely from the Bard’s neck. She picked it up and pressed it lightly against the Bard’s stomach before tracing slow circles downward, letting the vibration hum teasingly across her intimate skin. The Bard's breath caught in her throat, her legs trembling as she tried not to make a sound - a ritual of doomed resistance in the face of submission. The jogger gave a low chuckle as she came, more pleased than malicious. "Heh, that wasn't even the highest setting..." She shut the device off and let it fall back to dangle against the Bard's bare skin, leaning forward to plant a teasing kiss just below her collarbone. The Bard slumped a little against the chilly lamppost.

“Alright, sweetheart,” she said softly, beginning to untie her. “That’s enough mischief for one night.” She even managed to unclasp one of the cuffs - this wasn't her rodeo, clearly. Once the Bard was free, she rubbed at the marks on her wrist, her heart still racing. The jogger tenderly reached out to hold her chin, toying with the ballgag and running her thumb across her bottom lip. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she said before continuing her run into the night, the sound of her sneakers fading down the street. The Bard nodded slackly, and watched her depart in a longing daze, before snapping her head around for any other unwanted observers and quickly darting back up the garden-path.

Back inside, the others finally let out the breaths they’d been holding. The DM, still peeking through the blinds, muttered, "Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse." The Sorcerer nodded, reviewing the footage he'd taken with a toothy grin. The Rogue smirked victoriously, secretly on the cusp of feeling a little bit wet herself. The Bard trudged back into the living room, unclasping the gag muzzling her.

BARD, panting and red-faced: Next time, I’m the one writing the houserules.

ROGUE: I dunno, from where I was sitting it didn't look like you minded it that much.