A Second Visit

It was a hot August afternoon as he pulled up to the trailer in his dusty old GMC. He sat in the cab for a moment, looking at the trees, listening to the birds, and unwinding from the drive. He stepped down from the cab with a slight smile and began unloading. He had done this enough times that the work was second nature. He set the clothing and food items on the porch, carried the batteries to their spot at the front of the trailer and hooked them up, slid the tools under the truck, and unloaded the five 7 gallon water carriers. He climbed onto the porch and carried the items he'd left there into the trailer, stowed them in their places and coaxed the little gas refrigerator to life.

Within half an hour of his arrival, he was sitting on the porch with a sandwich and a cold beer, wearing nothing but cutoffs, socks and canvas sneakers. He had at least a week to luxuriate in the quiet solitude; more if he could make the food last. And then he saw her. She was sitting on the bed of the truck, swinging her legs, and smiling at him. He had no idea how long she'd been there or how he'd missed seeing her.

“Where'd you come from?” he asked.

She laughed. “Wouldn't you like to know. I heard you rattling down the road so I wandered in to say howdy. Aren't you glad to see me?”

It was his turn to laugh. The last time he'd seen her she had surprised him in the middle of a self bondage session. She had taken full advantage of his helplessness. When she was through with him, she'd loosened a few ropes and slipped away into the darkness. He'd wondered if she would be back but there had been no sign of her for the past year. He had been sorely disappointed and was overjoyed to see her again.

“Of course I'm glad to see you,” he replied. “I was wondering if you'd come back and had almost decided you weren't.”

“Well,” she drawled. “Here I am.”

“Indeed you are. Can I offer you a beer?”

“Whaddaya know,” she sniffed. “He has manners after all. Of course you can offer me a beer.”

He pulled a cold bottle from the ice chest , opened it and handed it to her.

“Want a sandwich?” he asked. “I have another roast beef and a couple ham and cheese.”

“Not now, but thanks.” she said. “I'm not here for your food.”

There was a stirring in his groin.

“Know what I'm here for?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“I'm not sure,” he answered.

She laughed. “You're not sure. Okay. Take a guess then.”

“Instead of playing games,” he replied, “Why don't you just tell me.”

“Okay. I'm here to get serviced. Are you done with your lunch?”

He nodded.

“Good. Grab your rope bag and follow me. You did bring your rope bag, didn't you?”

He nodded.

She hopped down from the truck, took a final sip from her beer, tossed him the bottle, and headed off into the woods. He stood watching her for a moment. Shaking his head at his own folly, he vaulted up onto the porch, got his rope bag from the trailer, and dashed after her.

He caught up with her in a small clearing that overlooked the dry creek bed.

“Aren't you kinda hot?” he asked.

“Hmm?” she answered distractedly, looking around.

“I mean, jeans and a flannel shirt. It must be ninety out here.

“Ah, but it's a dry heat,” she said vaguely. Then, in a firmer voice, “This will do fine. Dump out your rope bag.”

He considered for a moment, then did as he was told.

“Now I think you should strip naked and tie yourself all up, don't you?”

“Um, here? Outside?”

“Sure. Why not? There's no one around.”

He didn't want to seem like a coward. In fact, he was already getting aroused. But outside seemed a little scary. He wasn't sure he could trust this woman. On the other hand, she had let him go last time without any harm.

“Okay. I suppose...”

“So, what are you waiting for. I wanna see you tie yourself.”

“Okay, okay. How do you want me?”

“Ooh. I get to decide! Umm... how 'bout on you knees? Can you do that? Tie yourself up so you're kneeling? I wanna see that!”

“Okay,” he said. “What the hell. Could be fun”

“Do it like I wasn't here,” she suggested. “Just do yourself up like it was one of your little private sessions. I won't interrupt, I promise.”

He nodded. He was already getting into his 'zone'. He sat down in the dirt and dried grasses and began wrapping a rope around his legs above the knees.

“Um, I know I wasn't going to interrupt,” she said. “But I distinctly remember suggesting you strip naked first.”

“Oh. Okay.” He quickly removed his shoes, socks and cutoffs.

She pretended not to notice that his penis was already semi-erect as he again tied his knees together.

“Um, one more thing?” she said. “I was thinking you might put some ropes on your, you know, cock? Like last time? Wouldn't it be easier to do that before you tie up your legs?”

“Well I don't always do that,” he explained patiently. “It gets me more excited. And your presence has me excited enough.”

“Oh,” she said. “Okay.” She sounded disappointed.

“But if you really want...” He wrapped a rope around his waist, knotted it off, and wrapped the tails tightly around the base of his cock and balls. Then, for the third time, he tied his knees together. He tucked his heels under his butt, and wrapped a rope around his thighs and ankles. He retrieved two pre-tied loops from the pile of ropes. The longer one he slipped over his shoulders and worked down to the center of his chest. He took the smaller one in his right hand, put both hands behind his back, slipped his wrists through the loop, and twisted his hands until they were firmly bound behind, then slipped them under the waist rope.

When he was done, she walked around him slowly.

“You look good like that,” she commented. “Really submissive. But something's missing. In fact, two things are missing.”

“What?” he asked, craning his neck to look up at where she stood behind him.

“This is one,” she said, stuffing one of his socks into his mouth and tying it in place with the other.

“You don't really look like a captive without a gag.”

He nodded. She was right.

“And this is the other.”

She squatted behind him and did something with his wrist rope. He tried to untwist it and of course couldn't. For good measure, she added another rope connecting his wrists to the chest rope, so that he could no longer shrug his way out of it.

“How's that?” she asked.

“Nnnngh,” he responded.

She laughed and walked away, leaving him naked and bound in the dirt. She was gone for a long time. He could hear her moving around up by his trailer. He squirmed and tried to loosen his bonds, but he had done too well tying himself and her additions made escape unlikely. He resigned himself to his captivity and sank back on his heels, reveling in the feelings, drifting in his private world.

He opened his eyes to find her sitting a little ways off, watching him. He smiled around his gag and closed his eyes again.

She sat watching for a while, then stood. She stepped out of her jeans and sat behind him.

He opened his eyes again as he felt her bare legs on either side of him.

She slid up close against his back so his hands could reach her. She was already moist as he touched her lips. She wrapped her arms around his chest and put her head on his shoulder as he set to work.

Some time later she slid out of his reach, sighed languidly, arose, and wordlessly headed back up the path, leaving him bound and gagged.

After waiting for a while, he noticed she'd left his EMT scissors lying within reach. He correctly assumed that meant she was gone for the day, so he somewhat regretfully released himself. Returning to the trailer, he found his laptop set up and running a slideshow of photos she had taken of him in his captivity. There was no note and he didn't see her again that summer, but at the end of the slideshow was one self-portrait of her smiling and holding his empty rope bag. He treasured that photo all through the cold winter months.

27.08.11