Ready to Play?

It was finally Friday afternoon. It was almost time to go home and do nothing but relax. I would normally go out with some friends for dinner and dancing but tonight I wanted to do nothing. Nothing—it just sounded perfect. It had been a long week and I was tired.

I am a manager of an accounting office. I started as a file clerk six years ago. I quickly became a secretary and when Jennifer said she was leaving to get married, I was offered her position as office manager. That was three long months ago. There were two other women who had more seniority but Mark, the managing partner of the firm, pushed hard for my promotion. The promotion ended my friendship with the other women in my office. I overheard them once too many times talking amongst themselves and offering suggestions as to why I was promoted over one of them. The rumors they spread were not true but I knew the other partners had heard them and would occasionally look at me with a wondrous eye.

It was 4:15 pm when the intercom on my phone sprung to life. The volume was loud and Mark’s voice startled me. “Stacey, I am sorry to do this but we just landed the McClosky account and I need the account information put on disk for Monday morning.”

The account meant over $50,000 in revenue but it also meant that I would have to come in Saturday morning to do the data entry. I could have asked one of the secretaries to come instead but I did not need the grief of hearing how they have soccer games to go to, that they had no time to clean the house or one of the other excuses I had heard so often. Since I have no children everyone thought my life was uncomplicated. That is unless you consider my dog, Barney, to be my child. --No, I don’t either.

I told Mark, “Just leave the file in your office and I will take care of it tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, and Stacey, did you pick up Jennifer’s gift yet?” I had volunteered to get Jennifer’s bridal gift on behalf of the office. The office decided on a gift of china but since Jennifer and I always played practical jokes on each other, I ordered her a gag gift through Lover’s Lane. It was truly a gag gift, a ballgag. Jennifer loved to talk and I thought somehow it would be appropriate.

I really had forgotten about the china but did not let Mark know it. “I am picking it up after work.” What I really meant is that I would pick up the china on Saturday and that I would pick up my gift for Jennifer after work.

Mark replied, “Since you are coming in tomorrow, why do you leave early and get it.” I quickly accepted the offer, straightened out my desk and left.

On the way to the store I began to think about the ballgag. I hoped it wasn’t in bad taste and that Jennifer would accept it with the humor that was intended. I first saw one on a cable TV show when a porn star was demonstrating sex toys. She had picked it up off the table and held it in both her hands. She moved the gag towards her mouth but did not insert it. She had told the host that it was the one thing that made her feel like she had no control over the situation. That when used with bondage, it made her feel vulnerable. I said to myself, “Wouldn’t that be nice. Not to be responsible for anything. To just give your control away and not make a single decision. How nice would that be?” It really had been a long and hard three months since my promotion.

When I entered the store I was immediately drawn to the lingerie. There was just so much to look at. I was looking around the store when the clerk asked if she could help. I told her that I was here to pick up a package. I gave her my name and she quickly found what I had ordered. It was still in the original mailing box that was delivered to the store. The clerk offered to open the package to verify the contents but I told her it was not necessary. I guess I was slightly embarrassed about the ballgag. Sure, it was a gift for someone else but I was sure that everyone said that. I signed the credit slip and left the store.

Once home, I changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I made myself a light dinner and drank a couple of glasses of wine. I decided that I better wrap Jennifer’s gift or I would forget it again. I cut open the brown box and on top of the wrapping paper was a bright red ballgag. I opened the package that held the ballgag so that I could wrap it in a smaller box. When I pulled the ballgag out of the plastic wrap, I began to touch the ball and the leather straps. I thought of the porn star and how it made her feel when she used it.

I began to move the gag towards my mouth. I opened my mouth to accept the gag but did not insert it. I mean, it was to be Jennifer’s and I did not think she would appreciate me wearing her gag. What a thought. ‘Me, wearing her gag.’ I laughed out loud. No one, not even my closest friends would ever consider me to be the type of person that would buy a gag and use it.

Yet, there was something about the gag that kept me from putting it down. I put it up towards my mouth again and again. I opened my mouth wide trying to see if it would fit. It looked like it would. ‘Enough already! Put the ballgag down and wrap it already!’ I began to clear the table so I could wrap the gag when I heard something rattle inside the box.

I looked inside and saw something shiny. I pulled aside the wrapping paper and saw a pair of handcuffs. I hadn’t ordered those. I reached in the box and pulled out the handcuffs. They were cold to the touch and very hard. I had never touched a pair of handcuffs before. I pushed on one end of the handcuffs and ratcheted the metal through itself. The sound of the clicking stirred something inside me that I never felt before. It was a dull aching feeling inside my stomach. It was a feeling that I shouldn’t be touching these things. That these were taboo. A feeling of total embarrassment. Why should I be embarrassed, there wasn’t anyone around? And yet, I was embarrassed.

There were two keys attached the chain of the handcuffs. I remove the keys and tried both of them. Each one released the handcuff. ‘I’ve just got to try them.’ I took the handcuffs in my right hand and put one of the cuffs to my left wrist. As I pressed the handcuff to my left wrist I experienced a sudden shiver throughout my body. The cold hard steel encircled my wrist and with each click became more secure. I took the open cuff in my left hand and secured my right wrist. For the first time in my life I was handcuffed. I could not believe it; ‘I had just handcuffed myself.’ My heart began to race. “I’ve got to see what they look like.”

I quickly found myself in my bedroom standing before a full-length mirror. What I saw excited me. There was a 27-year-old woman who had just handcuffed herself. I stood 5’ 6”. My brown wavy hair came over my shoulders and stopped just short of my nipples that were now hard. I said to nobody but myself “Look how excited I am getting.” I began to rub my breasts through my T-shirt and around my nipples. With each clink of the handcuff chain I grabbed my breasts even harder.

I reached down between my legs and started rubbing myself through the jeans until I reached an orgasm. Never had I done that so quickly. Never had I been more excited while I was alone. It was then that I realized I wanted more. I reached with cuffed hands into my closet for my leather skirt and white satin blouse. I thought if I am going to do this I am going to do this right.

I quickly pulled off my T-shirt. But with the shirt hanging on the chains of the handcuff I realized I needed the keys to release the handcuffs. I went to the kitchen and released the handcuffs. I pulled off the T-shirt and my bra. My nipples were still erect. I picked up the handcuffs and the keys and made my way back to the bedroom. I had thought of taking the ballgag but decided that it was still going to be a gift for Jennifer.

Once in the bedroom I completely disrobed. I put on the white satin blouse and felt the coolness of the satin rub against my nipples. I almost lost it there. I then stretched a pair of black thigh highs over my slender legs and put on the leather skirt. The skirt stopped almost three inches above my knees. I then went to my closet and pulled out a pair of black pumps that had a four-inch heel. I wore these pumps in my wilder days but kept them for “special” occasions. I looked in the mirror thought, “Damn you look hot.”

I took the handcuffs from my end table and tested the keys once more. They still worked. I put the keys back on the end table and looked once again in the mirror. “Are you really going to do this?” With slight hesitation I put the steel bracelet on my right wrist and moved my hand behind my back. I grabbed the open cuff with my right hand and found my left wrist. I then closed the cuff and realized with each click of the handcuff that I was becoming more and more vulnerable. I enjoyed that feeling.

I moved around my bedroom and then in the kitchen to see what I could do and what I couldn’t do with my hands secured behind my back. There was a fair amount of movement but the handcuffs pressing against my wrist reminded me that I was in fact restrained. While in the kitchen I saw the ballgag lying on the table. Oh, how I wanted to try it but reminded myself that it was a gift and not to be used.

It was then that I heard a car pull into my driveway. I looked from behind the kitchen blinds and saw a familiar face. It was the niece of my closest friend. What was Jordan doing here? I saw her pull some Tupperware from her car and walk towards my front door. I exclaimed, “No! Not now.”

I realized the keys to the handcuffs were in my bedroom. I began to panic and ran to the bedroom as fast as I could with four-inch pumps and my hands handcuffed behind my back. I reached down and grabbed the handcuff keys off the end table and began struggling to unlock the handcuffs. Where was the damn keyhole! I heard Jordan knock at the front door and yell, “Stacey, its Jordan. I’ve brought your bowls back.”

I heard the front door open. Why hadn’t I locked the door? Too late now I thought, just get the handcuffs off. I moved to kick the bedroom door shut and as I did the keys fell from my hand. I turned around to search for the keys but in my panic I did not see them. How am I going to explain this?

Jordan was in the kitchen now. She yelled out again, “Stacey where are you? Are you alright?”

I yelled from down the hall and from behind my bedroom door, “I’m alright. I’ll be right there.” Nothing was further from the truth. Not unless I could find the keys and free my hands. It was then that I realized that the ballgag was sitting on the kitchen table. “How am I going to explain that” was the only thing that was racing through my head.

A knock at my bedroom door told me Jordan was just on the other side. The doorknob began to turn and I was quickly overcome with a warm tingly feeling. Not the good kind but the kind that put knots in your stomach. Jordan entered the room and looked at me. She smiled and raised her right hand to show me the ballgag. “I thought you might need this.”

“No, that’s not mine.” I said that while thinking, “How could I be so stupid.” I continued, “I bought that for a friend. Really! It’s not mine.”

I was overcome with embarrassment as Jordan said, “Really, and what do you have behind your back? Come on. Turn around. Let me see what you’ve got there.”

I slowly turned and revealed that my hands were handcuffed behind my back. “These were in the box that the gag came in. I just wanted to try them. I dropped the keys on the floor. Really, these are not mine.” I stammered my words out quickly and without pause. I felt as though I were ten and was going to be punished for coming in the house with dirty feet.

Jordan looked at me with a smile. “Relax. You look great. But I’ve never seen redder cheeks.” She moved closer and stroked softly my left cheekbone.

I tried to reach out and stop her hand but the handcuffs prevented my hands from moving beyond my back. It was then that I felt truly helpless. Jordan could do whatever she wanted and I would have little chance of stopping her. But this was Jordan, what did I have to worry about. I looked at Jordan and with as much humility as I could muster asked her quietly, “Could you get the keys and unlock them.”

Jordan stepped back and looked at me. Her eyes took in every inch of my body. She started at my heels and slowly looked up until our eyes met each other. She smiled again and said, “If these things were for someone else then why are you dressed like that?”

“I am going out dancing.” was my response.

Jordan began to walk around me. “But it is only 6:30.”

I followed Jordan as she walked by me. She squatted near me and reached out for the keys that were lying six inches from the heel of my left shoe. As she stood she lightly moved her hand along my calf and up my thigh. “What pretty legs you have.”

I stood still, somewhat shocked by her touch. I said thank-you as I twisted my body and moved my hands toward her. But Jordan did not move toward my hands. Instead she backed away.

“Not just yet. I don’t believe you. I think those handcuffs are yours. I mean they seem to fit you. I also think you wanted this ballgag but I interrupted you.”

Truth be told, I did. But I was embarrassed about it. I was embarrassed that I was caught with my hands handcuffed behind my back. I was embarrassed that Jordan had found the ballgag sitting on the kitchen table. Embarrassed that Jordan caught me.

Jordan continued, “It’s alright. I’ve been tied up before and know what your feeling. If you like I can help.”

I said nothing. I was intrigued by her comment. She had been tied up before? A sudden image of Jordan standing as I was, with her hands cuffed behind her back flashed through my mind. I smiled at the thought. I wanted to see where this could go but at the same time I was horribly embarrassed at what was happening. I had never done anything like this and did not know what to say. I stood motionless in the middle of my bedroom. For the first time in my life, I was speechless.

Jordan must have mistaken my smile as a ‘yes’ because she threw the keys to the handcuffs on the bed along with the ballgag that she had been holding. She moved toward me and told me to stay right were I was. She walked behind me and began to move her hands over my body. Gently her hands moved across my shoulders and down my arms. She moved to my hips and down my legs. I wanted her hands to explore further but she stopped. I was excited and Jordan knew it. I heard Jordan say, “Follow my instructions and you will enjoy this. Disobey me and you will not.”

“Disobey”. That word registered an emotion in me that I was hoping to experience. Vulnerability. I was vulnerable and no longer in control of what I could and couldn’t do. Yet, I continued to deny my emotions. I finally spoke to Jordan and said, although with a little less conviction this time, “Really, these are not mine.”

“I know. I know. These were for a friend.” After a brief pause, Jordan whispered softly in my ear, “Well, I’m a friend.” As Jordan said that she pressed her knee into the back of my leg. I felt my leg buckle forward and I immediately began to lose my balance. My hands thrashed wildly behind me trying to grasp anything that was solid. I grasped nothing but air. Fortunately, Jordan held tightly onto my arms as I fell into a kneeling position. I was totally surprised by this movement and took in a number of deep breaths. I could feel my heart pounding once more. I thought it would burst. I thought I would burst.

Before I could protest Jordan said with sternness in her voice that I never heard before, “Cross your ankles for me.”

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to play along. Part of me was still embarrassed. It was a quick decision but decided I would play along for a little bit. I mean what could really happen?

I struggled at first but eventually I was able to cross my right ankle over my left. I watched as Jordan moved to the bed and picked up the ballgag. She turned and walked behind me. I next saw from the corner of my eye the red ball approach my mouth and heard Jordan say, “Open for me.”

I moved my hands thinking I could stop her but all I did was struggle in the handcuffs. I started to say, “It’s not mine” but halfway through the sentence Jordan pulled my mouth down with her right hand and inserted the ballgag with her left. The ball popped in behind my teeth and stretched my jaw. The leather straps were pulled behind my head and I could feel her fasten the buckle.

“I see you’ve got the deluxe model.” I wanted to ask Jordan what she meant but couldn’t. All I could do was mumble the words. Jordan continued, “We will make use of that soon enough.” I still did not know what Jordan was talking about.

Jordan walked around and stood in front of me. I saw her reach for the bed and grab the keys to the handcuffs. Jordan was 21, six years younger than me. She normally stood about an inch shorter than me but with me kneeling she looked six feet tall. She was dressed in sneakers, shorts and a tight belly shirt. I found myself looking up at Jordan as she dangled the keys above my head. “I guess I am in control now. You will obey. You will be tied. But most of all you will enjoy this night.”

Jordan took the keys and put them in the pockets of her shorts and said, “I’m going to look around and see what you have. Stay right where you are.” With that Jordan stepped from my bedroom. I tried to push the ball out from my mouth but it only moved slightly. I screamed into the gag but all I heard was a muted muffled sound. I now knew what the porn star meant about the ballgag. I struggled against the handcuffs with no chance of escape. In doing so, I looked to the left and saw an image in the mirror that I will never forget.

There I was kneeling on the floor with my ankles crossed, my hands cuffed behind my back and a large red ball inserted in my mouth. I noticed that the leather straps were pushing my cheeks out as they encircled my face. My nipples were hard and pressing against the satin. The leather skirt held tightly to my ass and thighs. God, I was going crazy. The feelings were overwhelming. I wanted to climax but this time I could not reach between my legs. I needed a release but couldn’t achieve it.

I had nowhere to go, but I felt the need to move. My goal, it seemed was to somehow seek release. I struggled to my feet. I don’t know why but it seemed harder to move now that I was gagged. I nearly fell over trying to stand but I crawled to my bed and used it as support. Once I was standing, I looked again at the image in the mirror. I could see the excitement in my eyes. I could also smell my excitement. I then realized that when I dressed I had not put on any panties. ‘No! Please don’t let Jordan find out.’

I looked down the hall for Jordan but did not see her. I went out to the kitchen to see if I could find Jordan. Nothing. However, I saw movement outside. It was Jordan. She was in my garage with a plastic bag. She had filled the bag and was coming towards the house. I turned and walked back to the bedroom.

Once inside the bedroom I kneeled down and crossed my ankles as I had previously. Within a few minutes Jordan came back into the bedroom and looked at me with her hands on her hips, “Did you move?”

I tried to say no but only said “Mmmmpppfff”. I shook my head left and right.

Jordan looked at me and said, “I saw you looking out the kitchen window. You have not only disobeyed me but now you are lying to me. That’s not being a good girl.”

Jordan unceremoniously dumped the bag she was carrying on the bed and walked behind me. “Good girls are rewarded. Bad girls are punished.” With that she reached down to the handcuffs and tightened them three or four more clicks. The steel was now pressing against my flesh. It did not hurt but I was suddenly more aware of the presence of the handcuffs. She pulled the handcuff keys from her pocket and pressed on the side of the handcuffs. I didn’t know it but she had just double-locked the handcuffs.

Jordan was not done with my punishment. When she finished adjusting the handcuffs she moved my hair from the ballgag’s buckle and released the leather straps. I felt a momentary rush as the strap was released. But Jordan was not removing the gag; rather, she was tightening the straps. Jordan tightened the ballgag by two notches. This forced the ball further into my already packed mouth and the leather straps to bite into the flesh around my cheeks. I was humiliated once again as I felt myself drool onto my blouse. This left an unmistakable dribble stain on the satin.

Jordan looked at me with approval and said as she took her thumb and wiped my chin, “You are such a pretty thing. I am going to enjoy this evening.”

She walked to my bed and began to pull rope from the bag. I knew where the rope had come from. My father stored his boat at my garage and there was rope on board. Jordan took some of the rope and walked behind me. “Stand for me.”

I expected her to help me but I was not given any. Instead I struggled like I had previously. When I finally stood, Jordan moved to my side and knelt beside me on the floor. She had folded the rope in half and reached around my legs with her hands and began to tie the rope just above my kneecaps. The first touch of the rope against my skin made be tremble throughout my body. Jordan had quickly tied my knees together and then stood next to me. I realized with my heels I stood a good five inches above Jordan. I felt like I should be in control, after all, I was towering over her. This thought faded when Jordan spoke.

“Walk for me.”

How could I walk? The ropes held my thighs securely and I couldn’t move them. I looked at Jordan trying to say, “How can I walk?” But with a firm push from Jordan’s hand on my lower back, I discovered that short little steps were possible. I walked maybe two feet from the bed and was told by Jordan to “Stop for me!”

Something was missing according to Jordan. She reached into the bag of party tricks and pulled out a collar. It was the one I used when I took Barney for a walk. She stood behind me and put the collar around my neck. It did not restrict my breathing but I knew it was there. Jordan moved in front of me again and attached a leash to the collar. I was again embarrassed. I was ballgagged, handcuffed and my legs were tied together but I felt humiliated because of a leash and collar. How ridiculous was I?

Jordan looked at me and said I looked beautiful. I was again looking at myself in the mirror and was excited at what I saw. Jordan said, “Stay here for me.” Where would I go this time?

Jordan returned within a minute but I did not notice her until I saw the flash of a camera. Jordan was using my digital camera. I yelled, “No!” But Jordan paid no attention to the mumblings that were coming from my mouth. Jordan took at least 15-20 photos before putting the camera on the bed. She then grabbed hold of the leash and pulled towards the door. “Walk for me. I need to make a phone call.”

I followed her as best I could. My thighs were tied together so that only short steps could be made. I was walking; no, more like shuffling, on four-inch heels and did not feel very stable. About three minutes later we were in the kitchen. Jordan picked up the cordless phone that was on the table and began dialing a number. She looked at me with a coyness and said, “Oops, I guess I could have just gotten the phone myself and brought it back to the bedroom.”

I looked at her with some disgust but I knew that she was only playing with me. I wondered whom Jordan was calling. I couldn’t believe what I heard next. “Hi Doris, its Jordan. I have a friend who wants to come over and play tonight.” Doris, that was my best friend and Jordan’s aunt. I quickly shook my head to the left and right.

I couldn’t hear what Doris was saying but Jordan next said, “You can ask her yourself.” Jordan moved the handset to my ear and I heard Doris say, “Hello… Hello? So, Jordan tells me you want to play tonight. Is that right?”

I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want Doris to know what we had done. In fact, until Jordan called her Aunt I didn’t even think about Doris or what she would say about this. I tried to say no but the ballgag prevented me from doing so. Jordan put the handset back to her own ear and said, “She wants to say yes but cannot right now. But her eyes are saying yes.” I again shook my head left and right but Jordan ignored me.

I could only hear Jordan’s side of the conversation: “Yes, that’s right. “She is ready, willing and really wanting to play.” “We’ve played only a little so far.” “She’s learning.” “You’ll be home around eleven?” “Okay, we will be waiting in the basement.” “Yes, she knows.” “Okay, bye.”

Jordan looked at me and said, “Well it looks like we will have about four hours to kill before Doris can play.”

08.05.02