The Villain

The rain was pouring down, setting everything outside in a shiny haze that reflected the gray overcast sky.  Sarah came bursting through her front door, soaked from head to toe.  Her gym was only a few blocks away and when she left for there the clouds seemed far less threatening.  She left her umbrella home in favor of traveling light and she paid for it on the way back.  In fact, all she had were the clothes on her back, scant as they were.  Her white t-shirt that stopped a good few inches above her belly button was hardly working to conceal her pink sport bra underneath.  Her blue shorts turned a deep navy with the drenching, despite her all out run down the street, her breasts heaving all the way, full pink beacons under her now see through top.  She was pretty sure a few heads turned to take in the blur.

Her feet were sloshing around in her shoes and she pressed her toes against the heels and kicked them off into the corner near the door to dry.  Her bare feet were still damp and she noticed the wet foot prints she left as she turned back toward the hall mirror.  She peeled her shirt and bra over her head in one good yank, and her breasts shook free, tingling from the cool air of the apartment.  The wet top flew through the air just through the door of her bedroom, soon followed by the wet clingy shorts and panties;  she'd get to the pile later.  She was still quite wet and cold drops of water ran down her skin, leaving little puddles all over the hall.  What she needed now was a hot shower and a dry towel.  The damp and chill were unpleasant, and she thought about snuggling up and reading a good book on this dreary Saturday.

The day was pretty much a wash since her new boyfriend, Matt, had made plans with his friends and would be gone all day.  They had only been seeing each other about a month, so she felt weird about imposing on the other aspects of his life.  She liked that he had close friends.  Sarah's thoughts wandered back to that sweet kiss that turned into a little more than either she or he expected and she suddenly felt a little guilty about spurning his advances the last time they were together.  Right now, being trapped inside the apartment alone on a rainy day with no plans made the idea of him being here quite desirable.  It would have been the perfect day to spend naked, wrapped around each other with nothing but sex to keep them busy.  She imagined the two of them rolling around on couch, the bed, the floors, in at least a few rooms, and her eyes closed as her mind wandered and she started to become aroused.

As she got lost in thought, her hands wandered up to her lovely 36D breasts and cupped them gently.  Her hands encircled the full curves and her thumbs and forefingers drifted to her nipples, and she gave them an absent minded squeeze.  The slow pressure she applied elicited the gentlest of gasps and her right hand broke away and slid down her stomach, caressing the top of her neatly trimmed pubic patch, a dark flurry of hair to match her brunette locks she let grow over the past few months to just past her shoulders.  Further her hand reached and she let out a little sigh as the tip of her middle finger stroked tiny circle around her clit hood.  In less than a minute, wetness developed between her thighs to rival the rain's soaking, and her breath started to race a bit.  She opened her eyes to watch herself in the mirror, examining her form from head to toe.  In her excitement, without realizing, her legs had spread wider and she propped herself up on her toes.  Her fingers were hungrily snipping at her nipples and her hips began to thrust back and forth slightly. 

"Damn," she thought.  "Why did he have to be busy today?  I would have loved to see the look on his face when I answered the door like this."  The thought made her smirk and she ran a few more small circles around her clit.  Her mind wandered a little more as her eyes drifted shut again and a new naughty thought popped into her head, almost involuntarily, ”I wonder what would he say if I asked him to tie me up?"  The image of that moment caught her off guard and her stomach fluttered a bit, nervously, at the idea of his reaction.  "I hardly know him, would he think I was crazy or sick?  What would he do to me?  I hardly know him..."  The uncertainty of that situation made her resolve to wait until the time was right and a little more trust was developed between them.  In the meantime, she was alone, with nowhere to go and no one to see on a rainy Saturday.  The sight of her curvy figure in the mirror and the thoughts running through her head eliminated most options; "Time for a little dangerous fun; what better way to while away some hours than tied up and struggling?"  Her butterflies kicked into high gear.

She thought it might be fun to play in the living room, rolling around in the middle of open floor, trussed up tight.  "Maybe I've been robbed..." she thought, a story swirling through her head of a heartless criminal making quick work of her property, somehow uninterested in the naked young victim he has bound helplessly to buy him some time.  She is left behind, the abandoned refuse of a dark night's work.  Her hands were unknowingly kneading her nipples as the story developed and she came to from her reverie and bolted for her bedroom.  Sarah hit the ground, sliding on her knees, and reached under her bed for the latest addition to her toy pile. She had recently picked up a nice 100' coil of soft hemp rope at a hardware store and cut it into various lengths.  She spent one evening after work a few weeks ago measuring the pieces and applying black electrical tape to the ends to prevent unraveling and to the center of each piece so she could quickly find the center and make a bend there without a lot of fuss.  Tonight it would pay off.

Sarah plunked the coils of rope on the bed and made for the dark corner of her closet.  She emerged with her toy box in hand, and placed it on the bed to pick her goodies for tonight.  From the box, she extracted the handcuffs, her harness gag and the cuff keys.  She rifled around the box for whatever else might make the cut and her hand landed on the clover clamps.  Her mind wandered back to her harrowing night in the shower, and her nearly final imprisonment, and she thought twice.  "I'll enjoy these again when someone else slips them on," she thought.  She picked up the dildo and her butt plug and considered them as well. “Would a burglar take the time to force these in her to leave here there alone?  He'd more likely fill me himself," she snarked.   "But maybe they'd keep me passive and busy while he turns the place over."  She debated the perverse sexual tendencies of the fictitious robber in her head and the crueler he got, the more she liked him.  She wanted to linger while bound and helpless, and a vibrator would just pop the cork too soon.  But the butt plug would be nice and frustrating.  She bit her lower lip, and grabbing the black plug and her small bottle of lube, she placed the cuff keys on her nightstand (having to retrieve them would be all the more fun).  With restraints in hand, she headed for the living room.

Sarah stopped in front of the hall mirror and gave herself a quick glance.  The sight of her naked form, hands clutching her tools, and the thought of her smooth skin and soft curves suffering the bite of the new ropes was enticing.  She wanted to get down to business before the flip-flops in her stomach drove her to drop everything and just relieve her tension right there.  She rested everything on the floor and got down onto her knees.  Her hand scooped up the plug and lube and she quickly coated the black latex with the slick clear gel.  Once slippery in her hands, she rested her head and shoulders on the floor, forcing her ass higher into the air.  Her hands were cold and slick with lube as she probed her loins and stretched her reach until she could feel the tight pucker of her ass with the tips of her fingers.

Switching her weight to her right shoulder, Sarah swung her left arm over her back and let the goo from her fingers caress the soft skin between her buttocks, making little forays in her sphincter with the tips, driving some lube within her to ease the passage.  With the plug in her right hand, she met her left hand in a pain inducing stretch and started to aim the tip of the black latex into the tender opening.  She could not imagine the contorted pose she was in and chuckled to herself a little at how silly she must have looked.  "Nice to be alone", she thought.  The tip of the plug found its mark and with what extension she could muster, she pressed her finger tips against the flat "handle" of the plug and slowly started to pull it inside of her.  Her arousal swelled as the tool invaded her and with each push, she felt herself gaping wider than she thought possible.  Her eyes shut and her breath turned to little gasps as she savored the stretching sensation, her ass opening wider still under the force of the intruder.

The plug reached the edge of the wide cone, almost 2 inches in diameter, and Sarah felt a little cramp in her stomach.  The last bit was always the hardest and she fought to keep her seal from popping out.  Keeping her left hand against the handle, she pulled her right arm out from under her and pushed herself back into an upright position, her thighs resting flat against her calves.  She slowly leaned back and shifted her weight from her folded legs to her butt and could feel the handle of the plug touch the floor.  Her hole quivered at the sensation of the large head within it and sent another shock of a cramp to her stomach. She was too far gone to stop now, and with a moment of courage, she dropped her weight against the plug.  Her punished hole relented and the rest of the plug slid home, her sphincter clicking shut around the narrow neck, relaxing as a sensation of fullness became front and center in her mind.  The cramps faded, but were replaced with the dull ache of constant pressure in her anal passage.

Sarah leaned forward and propped herself back onto her hands and knees as she caught breath, which she realized she was hold during the last few seconds of the plug ordeal.  As her breathing slowed and relaxed, she gave her hips a little twist.  What were normally imperceptible parts of her body were now highlighted with every movement as she could feel the handle of the plug between her cheeks press snugly into its valley.  She gave her ass a little slap and the gentle giggle revealed how much more sensitive she had become, a constant reminder of the tight enclosure she forced upon herself.  It would be impossible to forget the tormentor hidden behind her, out of sight.  And once she was done with her prep, impossible to remove.  The butterflies fluttered, and she returned to the task at hand.

She reached behind her head and scooped her hair, still damp and a little knotty from her workout and soaking, into a taut pony tail and slid the hair tie she had around her wrist, coiling it a few times around the base of the tail to keep her hair at bay.  She grabbed the harness gag next, deciding from now on was the silenced time, and worked the large red ball between her teeth. Once in the right spot, her mouth closed slightly over the ball, making it feel like part of her anatomy.  She pulled the harness over her head like a mask, pulling and adjusting the straps to sit comfortably over and across her nose, down her cheeks and under her chin.  The fit was still good from the last time and the harness seemed to snap to the frame of her head.   The two straps buckled securely under her pony tail and she tested the hold.  Without hands freeing the straps, there was no way to dislodge the ball; her tongue and teeth giving it their best.

Sarah sat up straight while still on her knees and turned to ogle the gagged girl in the lower half of the hall mirror.  She loved that she was the sexy silent girl staring back at her, and her right hand gave her clit hood a little swirl while her left gave her nipple a pinch.  She gave off a satisfied moan into the gag, reveling in the muffled sound.  The girl in the mirror reached her arms over her head and folded them at the elbow, crossing her wrists under her pony tail in an "invisible" tie.  She twisted her hips with a jerk and let her tits jiggle, slowly swaying to a stop, voluptuous in their fullness and curves.  Her nipples stiffened and her hands dropped down unbidden to give them a generous pinch.  "God, gagged mirror girl looks fucking hot", Sarah thought to herself, suddenly a little embarrassed at her own smugness, "but she needs something else." 

Without looking, she reached over to the pile of neatly prepped rope coils and plucked the top one off.  Her hands slid along the length of the rope until she found the center marker, and folded the rope in half there, forming a bend, and let the rest drop to the floor.  She grabbed the doubled rope under the bend with both hands and slowly slid them apart, forming a length of two cords while keeping them taut.  She brought both hands behind her and passed the ends of the rope through the bend, taking up the slack and sliding the new belt around her waist to center the bend behind her.  This rope burned a little more than she expected as it slid over her soft flesh versus the old cord she normally used, and the jury was out as to whether it was better or worse.  Maintaining good tension, she pulled the ends of the rope down hard, letting the coil pull tight against itself and her. She passed the ends from one hand to the other between her legs and up and under the front of the belt.  She pulled out the slack to let the new truss press firmly against the pink delicate flesh of her pussy and the solid unmoving latex of the plug.  With two fingers, she parted her labia slightly and the two cords slipped firmly into their embrace.

With a final hard tug down on the front of the waist belt, the ropes bit into her tender skin, and pressed the plug even harder into her, though she swore it couldn't possibly go any deeper.  The tight, sealed sensation she was feeling in her ass just moments ago jumped to a new scale, and she arched her back as if to pull away from the relentless insertion.  Sarah's imagination took over as the force mounted, and her mind's eye could see the masked robber behind her, pulling on her crotch rope mercilessly while worrying the plug deeper into her ass.  The assembly was tight, almost painful, and with no relief to be had, she submitted to the ropes and her anal seal.  Her hands split the ends and ran the ropes several times around the crotch line, creating a braided effect down the front of her mound. With about six inches left in each hand, she tied the ends into a strict granny knot right above her clit hood.

She started to sit down on her haunches to take a little break, but the move made the ropes dig even tighter as she leaned into her crotch harness.  She bolted back upright on her knees with a start, coming to full attention as the cords burned against her skin.  She realized the trouble she was in for and got to work before her resolve ebbed.  Sarah pivoted on her knees and returned to the mirror with the attractive woman, now sporting a painfully tight looking crotch rope in addition to her gag.  The woman cupped her full breasts and gave them a squeeze.  Sarah's breasts responded, feeling soft and delicate.  Her nipples softened a little, and she returned them to attention with swirls of her fingers around the aureole.  The skin wrinkled and her pert tips came back to life.  She gave them a firm pinch and leaned her head back to enjoy the ache.

Her hand fell on to the pile of rope and plucked another loop from the collection.  As with the crotch rope, the found the center and bent a loop into the cord to double it over.  Her hands met behind her back and passed the loose ends through the bend and pulled the slack tight, making a constricting pair of cords that formed an alluring border under her breasts.  Each new application of rope was a fresh experience as the snug coil seemed to light her skin afire as it slid around to center the knot in the middle of her back.  The ends were brought together and passed around her body in the other direction, tension kept at a maximum, until they came again to the loops behind her and were pulled through to finish the top half of the rope frame around her tits.  Pulled tight, the pair was separated, each cord run over her shoulders and brought together again to run under the pairs of ropes crossing her upper torso.  Keeping the rigging taut with one hand, she wrapped the rope twice more around cord pairs, forming a cinch between her breasts and pulled the whole thing snugly.  The cinch pulled the upper and lower ropes together, forming a tight constriction around her sensuous orbs that made them bulge and go taut.  Her tits were full and engorged as she ran the separate ends once more around the back of her neck and tied them with a nasty square knot.

The last tie behind her neck forced the tight ligatures to give her breasts some support and lift.  Her tits thrust out before her, full and solid, a twist of her hips giving them just the slightest jiggle that the ropes quickly brought under control.  She ran her hands over her costume and studied the effect in the mirror, the ropes encasing her soft skin and delicate features.  Her bondage bikini was complete, an assembly of unforgiving cord that felt like she was at least dressed in something skimpy, yet revealed everything; surely the sadistic vision of her captor.  She stood up and glared at the slowly evolving victim in the mirror, catching herself about a half a dozen times as the rope reminded her repeatedly, above and below, of how constricted she already was, and yet she could still walk about and do whatever she wanted with her hands as if she was clad simply in underwear.  This would have to be addressed right away.  "Time to get this little bitch under control", she thought.  Sarah slipped her hand under the front of the crotch rope and gave it a hard yank.  The tight rigging snapped back to position as the plug in her ass forced a gasp from her that couldn’t quite escape her throat.  It was a brutal reminder of who was in charge and the robber appeared behind her again, arm around her body, hand under the belt.  He gave it another yank, "Get down on your hands and knees, slut." 

A series of short whimpers slipped past the gag as Sarah felt compelled to get down on all fours, the ropes biting her and the non-stop pressure of the plug cowing her into submission.  She got down on the floor and crawled as bidden by her invisible tormentor into the center of her living room, ropes and cuffs in tow.  The polished hardwood floors offered little comfort in her position and there was nothing to hide behind in the center of the room.  Her bound body was exposed; ass in the air, sealed shut with the black plug, her full breasts hanging and swaying indecently as she made her crawl.  The light here was different than the hallway she started in and Sarah realized her window blinds were open.  She thought for just a moment about closing them, but the heavy rain outside created a shimmering sheet over the glass that blurred the world.  "Why not suffer for someone else's pleasure?", she thought.  She was pretty sure no one could see in, but maybe someone would get lucky.  The thought of being spied on while tied up set her arousal level up another notch and she remained on her hands and knees in the middle of the room for a few minutes, silently waiting for her next orders, thinking about her predicament.  She was already humiliated and aching, how much more could she take?

The ropes, gag and plug were working almost too well and Sarah was off in dreamland, her submission to the fictitious robber nearly already total.  The damp gray day was creeping into her shadowy apartment and her skin tingled with little drafts from the exposed windows.  She came down from her cloud and realized she was only half done.  Like an obedient victim who knew her options were limited, she swung around from her kneeling position and tentatively on her left buttock, slowly rolling into a sitting position, allowing the full weight of her body to press the plug into a constant state of maddening pressure.  Her anus was screaming for relief but it was not to be.  She sat silently in the middle of the room as her forced probe worked it relentless magic, the slow draw of her breaths through her nose the only sound she could perceive beyond the constant spattering of rain on the windows.  She gave her nipples a nice pinch to keep the blood flowing and try to distract from the ache of the plug, but nothing could quite overwhelm the filling sensation.  Her captor was quite clever to do this to her.

Sarah still had a victim to finish tying; she slid her feet together and drew her feet closer, pulling her knees toward her chest.  This placed nearly all of her weight on the black seal aching in its inglorious task, and she found herself questioning her methods, but only for a moment.  She reached over to the pile of ropes remaining and grabbed the next coil.  Doubling the ropes to form a bend, she wrapped the woven cords around her ankles, holding the bend off to the side and coiling the pair firmly around her limbs, taking care to leave about a hand's thickness between.  She made three circuits, and then pulled the ends through the bend, centered between her feet, allowing her to change the wrapping direction.  She ran the loose ends around the taut coils twice, pulling the rigging into a nice cinch that took up all of the slack.  The ache she felt in her ass was more than worth the sensation she experienced as the ropes pulled tight, securing her strong legs.  The ropes constricting her ankles were a frame for her shapely bare feet, accentuating the delicate curves of her soles and arches; her long slender toes, dressed in her favorite clear polish, reflecting what little light was coming in and she took a moment to admire them and her work.  She lamented, for a moment, the lack of barefoot opportunities day to day in the city.  Even today, with its torrent washing away the grime, the oily rainbow puddles were probably not fit for naked skin.

Several coils of unused rope still lay next to her and she grabbed the next one and performed her ankle binding ritual, in kind, right below her knees, taking care to run the loops deep into her knee pits.  The cinch between her knees pulled everything tight and caused the ropes to form like a cuff around her upper calves, adding more frame to her curvy legs.  Her lower body was quite immobile, but she wasn't quite done yet.  Another skein of rope from the pile coiled like a snake around her mid thighs.  With the rest of her legs already welded shut, pulling the cinches through was more work, but the pull compressed the loops and tight straps formed around her thighs.  Sarah sat upright and stretched her legs out in front of her, admiring her sexy limbs as a new single unit.  The bondage changed her position a bit and the plug continued to harry her.  She gave her work a few tests as she twisted and strained from her groin to separate her legs, of course to no avail.  Her robber, lurking in the back of her mind, always just out of sight, admired his handiwork.

A few coils of rope still remained and she stared at them, ruminating about where they might be added.  She grabbed another coil and performed her doubled-over wrap around her stomach, leaving the coils rather slack.  She snatched up her handcuffs and slid the bracelets up under the crotch belt behind her back, the chain straddling the tight "Y" shape that emerged from her ass.  The cuffs slapped down on her cheeks as she let go, hanging patiently for her arrival.  She grabbed control of the loose coils around her stomach and slid her arms down into the wrapping.  Her left arm was fairly easy, but she gave herself not quite enough slack to force her right arm in.  With a few grunts and twists, the belly rope soon contained both of her arms, pressing them snugly to her sides.  Sarah was rather impressed, thinking she couldn't have tied that better if she measured it.  With a little rubbing and burning, she brought her arms a little closer together behind her back and scooped the cuffs up into her hands.

Here she was alone, naked, the outside world a distant memory as she faced her assailant, the masked sadist who prepped her stay in helpless isolation to aid his escape with her precious belongings.  His business was the anonymous exchange of others peoples' property, and business was good.  He wasn't going to leave his calling card for the police to find and lose such a sweet gig by ravaging his unfortunate victim, the single young woman who came home just a few minutes too early.  For fear of her safety, Sarah acquiesced to his demands and allowed herself to be tied and left alone so long as he left quickly.  The turns of his rope rigging now dug into her tender flesh, the gag kept her silent and compliant.  But the plug, that was his cruelest idea, and it was working like a charm.  With little finesse, he forced this intruder inside of her, held in place by the seemingly rigid crotch rope that grew damper and more irritating with her every breath.  The wicked plug seemed to continuously expand and fill her and the indignity of the sensation was just what he needed to keep her motionless and submissive on the floor while he finished his task.  With all the knots and buckles in order, he brusquely slipped her wrists into the steel cuffs and snapped them shut, the ever tightening ratchets breaking the wordless silence of the dark room.  Sarah wondered for a moment if he even kept the keys to these chains, and as they formed to her wrists, he added a little insult to her situation by clicking in the double-lock buttons.  He pushed against her shoulder and she fell onto her arms folded behind her back, prostrate in a long, lithe pose; a single-limbed creature spread across the hard wood.

As she lay back, the robber disappeared out of the periphery of her vision and she was again alone, staring at the white ceiling.  She tugged on the cuffs now circling her wrists, and the angry response returned by the plug immediately told her to behave.  She curled her legs a bit and leaned to one side to ease the quickly building discomfort in her arms.  She couldn't imagine how she was going get free, and her mind swirled with the idea of being trapped like this for a long time.  Maybe she could crawl her way to the kitchen and find a knife to cut the ropes, if only she could reach the drawers.  Where was her scissors?  She writhed and twisted her limbs in the snug coils, relishing the sense of immobilization she had created.  Her robber was quite efficient; she was sure he was a practiced hand at this, and the thought of naked women helplessly bound and abandoned in apartments across the city made her tingle.  What kind of devil could avoid such temptation?

Sarah managed to roll over onto her side, and then her stomach, but every move pulled at some ligature somewhere, and once on her stomach, her full bulging breasts spread out awkwardly under her.  The compression made her breasts bondage dig in hard and it ached after just a minute or so.  Trying to find a little comfort in her suffering, she arched her back and raised her butt into the air.  All this did was put more pressure on her poor breasts and make every inch of the crotch rope dig even more, if that was even possible at this point.  She stretched her legs and toes out and arched her back backwards, lifting her upper body and her roped tits off the ground for a few seconds, but this was unsustainable and she let herself flop back down, a grunt slipping out of her throat.  As she landed, she could see and feel the beads of drool forming at the corners of her mouth trickle out and start to pool on the floor under her face.  She didn't want to get it all over her, and the effort to keep her head tipped back was more than she could bear after a minute.  With what little movement she had in her arms, she attempted to create a little momentum and roll over onto her other side, each little sway of her arms yanking her already sore wrists, which then dug her crotch rope deeper into her pussy and against the silent menace swelling in her ass.  Grunts and drool erupted from around the gag and the floor under her head became a slick little trail she tried to avoid.

After a good deal of twisting, writhing and yanking on all of the worst places, Sarah managed to roll herself back over, bracing herself as best she could with what little elbow movement she had to lower herself onto her back.  She found she could flatten her hands and rest fairly comfortably on the cuffs without them digging into her back too much.  She let her legs stretch out, pointing her toes to try and ease a little of the ache out of them like a cat. She relaxed her shoulders and let her head touch the floor.  Her breathing slowed and she found herself slipping into a calm relaxed state of mind.  Her struggling had fatigued her some and now that she just accepted her situation, she found herself appreciating it more each minute.  Her limbs relaxed and she could feel the ropes working against her, keeping everything in the tidy little package she put herself in, doing the work of immobilizing her instead of her fighting against the tethers.   A satisfying warm tingle washed over her, not an orgasm, just a happy sense that everything was as it should be.  Sarah turned her head to the left and drool oozed from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't care.  "Oh god, why can't I just stay like this all the time?” she thought. 

Except for the silent rise and fall of her stomach, Sarah lay quite motionless for a while and time began to stretch and dilate.  The rain continued to pelt the windows, as hard it seemed as when she first got home.  Though her eyes had slowly adjusted since she began, the gray bleak day had become cloaked night and the single street light outside cast angled shapes of light and shadow through the living room, undulating through the sheets of water.  A chill settled on the room, but her tight cocoon continued to arouse her, and the warm flush in her skin overcame her exposure.  Relaxed and cozy in her bondage blanket, she drifted off for a bit.  She awoke sometime later from restless dreams, the room even darker than before and for just a brief moment, she forgot her situation. 

As the reality of ordeal set back in, her breath developed a steady rhythm and she felt her arousal level click up several notches.  The butterflies returned, desperate for release from her teasing fingers, but that would have to wait.  The robber knew how to torture his victims, and surely he meant for Sarah to suffer, suspended on the brink of satisfaction.  The longer she spent in his web, the more time he had before she could call the authorities.  She gave her legs a twist, desperate to give her now throbbing loins a little attention, and the rope relented a little, rubbing enough to make her take notice and force a few little gasps through her gag.  Her chest rose and fell with effort, attempting to resist her breast constriction.  The sound of her nose drawing long breaths cut the silence of her prison as she writhed as hard as she could, the crotch rope climbing its way deeper between her labia.  Wetness ran from her moist sex, warm little drops making slow aggravating trails over her ass, forming a little puddle she could just start to sense. 

While she indulged in the absence of sense and time, luxuriating in her tight bondage, Sarah languished on the verge of climax, desperately close to a wave of bliss.  Submerging deeper into her private paradise, she was well beyond savoring her physical isolation.  No one else existed in the world, the universe was empty beyond the coils of rope the encased her.  Alone and abandoned, no one would come to release her or pleasure her.  This was her life now, trapped on the edge of ecstasy and freedom. This was the only place she ever really wanted to be; which was why the loud knock on her front door was as world-shattering as it was startling.  She barely resisted the urge to scream, and a frightened little gurgle died behind her gag.  She started to gasp and was sure that whoever stood on the other side of the door could hear her deep breathing.  A panicked "Who is it?" almost made it out her brain and into her sealed mouth, but she choked it back as she realized that not only did she not want to announce her presence, no one would be able to understand her muffled cries anyway, surely raising suspicion. 

She lay utterly motionless for several seconds, hoping that whoever knocked would assume she was out.  The cold of the room suddenly rushed into play and she shivered a bit as she watched the shadows of two shoes move, cast by the lights in the public hallway.  She sat up, rigid and tense, and willed herself to slow her breathing and silence what seemed like a howling whoosh coming from her nose.  The disruptor knocked again, and a congenial voice, muffled as it passed through the door, added to Sarah's total panic, "Sarah, are you home?  It's Matt."

Her jaw started to tremble and ache, but she dare not move.  Eyes wide, her gaze was fixed on the narrow beam of light at the base of her door, and another pair of shadows darkened the gap.  "C'mon man, just give her a call, she can meet us over there", an unfamiliar voice droned. 

Matt responded, "I didn't program her in..."

Matt got cut off, "’Cause you're a fuckin' idiot.  If I met a girl like that, I'd tattoo her number across my forehead.  C'mon, let's go.  She not home." 

Matt retorted, "Oh wait, here she is in the call log.  Go ahead, I'll be there in a few.  I'm just gonna try her cell now." 

The second set of shadows walked off and from down the hall, a barely audible jab could be heard, "Hurry up, time-vacuum. How long does this take?"  Several pairs of footsteps seemed to plod off down the hall and the ding of the elevator going down could be heard, but Matt's feet continued to haunt her threshold, and he started to pace in a busy little circular pattern.  He was silent for a few seconds, his feet stopped moving, and Sarah's heart nearly burst through her chest and she stopped breathing altogether as her cell phone rang at maximum volume from her kitchen counter.  The ringer was an old fashioned bell sound like phones from the 40's and 50's.  She thought it was cute when she picked it, now all she heard as her phone repeated the tone was, "I'm hiding from you! Please be advised I am here!"  "Fuck!", she thought, her head snapping back and forth from the phone flashing and vibrating around on the counter and the shadowy feet at the door, which had now turned to face it again, making it obvious Matt had heard his call go unanswered just on the other side.

Her butterflies had exploded into nearly full blown cramps as the caller at the door knocked again, calling out, "Sarah, are you there?" 

Her mind raced, trying to grab hold of a logical explanation that she could somehow will to his brain and send him off, "I'm out... I'm shopping... I'm at the gym... I ran into the office for something, anything... went to see my folks... I'm banging another guy... I just forgot my phone... just leave a message... I'll call you back with the best booty call in your life... please please please please please just go..." 

She could hear him mumbling something to himself as it sounded like he was rifling through his jacket pockets.  "What the fuck is he doing?  My god, pleeeease..." desperately ran through her head.  She heard a click, and then several seconds of silence followed as he seemed to stand at the door motionless.  Then his feet shifted and while she couldn't quite make out what he was doing, a piece of paper slid under the door.  And then it happened, all in the span of a second; the relief that maybe the note signaled the end of this incursion turned into head to toe shivers as the door popped open a few inches, a new blade of light from the hall cutting the darkness.  Sarah heard Matt exclaim, somewhat surprised, "Whoa..."  He had grabbed the knob when he leaned down to slip the note under and the unsecured door gave way. 

A bolt of horror shook her to her core, "Oh god... I forgot to  lock the door...", whispered feebly in her mind, and suddenly, the pleasures of her bondage escapades felt like a curse with discovery at hand. 

Sarah was chugging air like an engine, and she was unable to contain the sucking sound she was making as air slipped past her gag uncontrollably.  Nothing she could do or think was helping her take control, and big wet tears welled up in her eyes.  He was going to hear her and she couldn't stop it.  Matt stumbled up from his kneeling position and the door creaked on its hinge, slowly gaping wider.  The shaft of light flooded her hallway and made the dark hole she was sitting all the more concealed.  Matt's silhouette stood in the doorway, tentative, "S-Sarah...?  Are you here?  Your  door’s open…"  He spoke out, somewhat timidly,  to the "empty" room, "Our plans got a little washed out, we're gonna head to the movies and them some drinks."  He started to trail off, "...thought you'd... wanna come..." 

Her eyes were starting to adjust to the contrasting light and she could make out a concerned look on his face.  He picked up the ratty napkin that was to serve as his note and stuffed it is his pocket when he saw the clean white pad sitting on the kitchen counter in the stark hallway glare.  Sarah watched in silence as Matt pulled out his pen and started to write anew.  He ran little circles around the paper, his pen obviously now empty.  He scanned the counter for another, and nonchalantly reached over to the light switch to clear the shadows.

The kitchen light flared into existence and a warm glow filled the space.  He reached over to the cup of pens previously hidden next to the wall.  The counter separated the kitchen from the living room where it doubled as a bar, and the couch and some chairs and the TV were illuminated, as were two enormous red, wet eyes, framed by straps, staring directly into his.  "OH FUCK!” was just the beginning of a series of noises he made as he stumbled back, smacking a glass on the floor, tripping and banging hard into the fridge, cereal boxes cascading down upon him.  “Sorry… sorry… sorry… I’m wasn’t trying anything funny… I just wanted…” 

His eyes were quickly as wide as hers and he managed to get his footing and push his heart back into his chest after the shock.  Cautiously he approached the counter, "Jesus Christ, you sacred the shit...outta..." He stopped abruptly as the vision of the bound, naked woman on the floor registered with him.  He stared at her for several beats without moving or speaking, unsure what to do.  Her body trembled gently with little uncontrolled sobs. Matt shuffled gingerly out of the kitchen, ignoring the boxes on the floor, never breaking eye contact.  Sarah tracked his gaze with hers, and a dense knot of humiliation wadded up in her stomach and throat.  Her brow was furrowed over her tear-irritated eyes and she whimpered between her breaths, never breaking visual contact.  She was sitting upright, and had pulled her knees to her chest, resting the soles of her feet flat on the floor, doing what little she could to cover her shame.  He approached her cautiously, his voice a concerned whisper, "Holy crap... are you OK?  Are you all right?  Are you... are you hurt?" 

If embarrassment of this scale could cause pain, hers was excruciating.  Her new boyfriend had stumbled upon her most favorite, secret little private perv and there was nothing to do for it.  But the only pain she felt was self inflicted and she was quickly becoming numb to it; she sheepishly shook her head 'no'.

Matt studied the curve of her legs from her knees to her toes, taking in the details of her tight bindings, a look of uncertainty crossing his face.  He spoke softly, "I-I don't know if I can undo these knots, they look pretty hairy.  And I'd be afraid to use a knife, I'd probably cut you..."  On one knee, he swung around behind her, and noticed the steel cuffs that pinned her arms to the rope around her waist and running tightly between her legs.  He didn't know what to make of that, and looked at the side of Sarah's harnessed head as she lowered her gaze to the floor, "Did someone do this to you... should I call the police?" 

This question made her take notice and she caught his gaze again.  She grunted "Mm-Mm" into her gag twice and shook her head 'no' more emphatically now.  The only people they'd have to arrest were an innocent man trying to keep his cool and the freaky girl who called in a false police report.  She repeated her negative response, and watched as confusion set into his expression.  "I don't understand... who tied you up like this?" 

Try as she might, she could not conceal much of her form and kneeling right beside her, Matt let his eyes wander; over her breasts, bulging and full from the ropes around them and her chest, the taut rope that encircled her arms and pinned them to her sides.  A skintight pair of cords cinched her waist and connected into a "Y" branch that disappeared into the curves of her ass.  Neatly organized coils of rope around her thighs, knees and ankles, cinched harshly between her limbs, kept her legs securely lashed together.  It didn't make sense to him; the perfect, almost artful rope work coupled with the gothic leather harness around her head, forcing the red ball deep into her mouth, and the shining steel handcuffs seemed out of place all in one place.  He looked around the room and realized, there was no sign of struggle here.  The furniture, books, knick-knacks, the TV, the laptop... all of it was right where he saw it a few days ago.  Nothing seemed disturbed at all; he had, in fact, made far more of a mess just getting scared half to death while getting a pen.

Matt kept his confusion to himself, and turned his attention to the cuffs, gently encircling her left wrist with this hand, the shackle between his fingers, "Do you know if there are keys these?" 

Sarah met Matt's gaze for just a second, but lowered head in defeat as she nodded 'yes'.  She motioned her head toward the hall and did her best to squeeze out an intelligible "eb-ooh".  He thought for a second, and responded, "Bed.. bedroom? Hold on..."  He got to his feet and made a quick line down the hall.  A distant light clicked on and after a few moments, quickly returned with the key between his fingers.  As he approached Sarah again, he hesitated just a second to take in the sight of the naked helpless bundle sitting demurely in the middle of the living room floor.  She had buried her face in knees, pulled up close to her chest, and gave off the occasional little sob or sigh that made her twitch just slightly.  She was imagining the "big talk" some minutes later on the couch where she would have to explain how she just loved being tied up, and tying herself up, and she wasn't a freak or pervert or communist; that when she was alone, she became her best sex partner and the sensations and head games were intense, AND she was never giving it up so he would have to either deal or leave.  She sat immobilized in her curled up ball and pictured every possible response he could offer.  None of them made her feel good.

Several seconds later, she lifted her head to see Matt examining the two remaining coils of rope on the floor next to her.  She had forgotten they were there in her reverie, and she grew a little nervous as she watched him inspect the neatly trimmed edges wrapped in electrical tape that matched the bonds she still sat in.  He turned his head a few times to compare, then cocked it to one side.  He held up the key and rope as if presenting evidence and a smug look came over his face, "You did this. You tied yourself up." 

She couldn't meet his gaze now and just lowered hers to the floor as she gently nodded an affirmative. 

He gave a happy little chuckle, "No… it’s OK. Of course it’s OK…I don't want you to think I'm some buttoned down prude, I get bondage and S&M.  I'm all about kinking it up.  I've also read up a little on self-bondage; the isolation, the fear of getting stuck, or... caught.  That's pretty hot.  I just never thought I'd get to meet a practitioner plying her trade, and such a sexy one at that."  The clinical tone he took talking about bondage made her cringe a little.  She didn't "practice" tying herself, she delighted in it, and being bound satiated her.  It was the only thing that made the jerks and idiots of the world tolerable at the end of the week.  "Clearly", she thought, "he is trying to pander to me.  Maybe this was for the best.  I know his type... the 'Out' that wants to be 'In'."  Matt could see her brow switch from scared to angry, and he replied, "Don't believe me?  Think I'm just trying to take advantage of this... of YOUR predicament?  Well, as a novice, I must admit I really do admire your handiwork.  It looks quite inescapable."  For just a flash, a tinge of pride ran through her.  But that was quickly drowned out by the new butterflies that formed in her stomach as she noted how the concern had melted from his face, replaced with a lusty, wanton grin.

Sarah pushed her feet against the floor and slid away from Matt about 6 inches, but there was nowhere to go to escape his reach.  He spun about on his knees and quickly grabbed the cinch between her ankles.  She stretched out with all her might, kicking hard to try and break free from his grasp, but he had gotten full control of the tight cords circling above her feet and Sarah simply went prostrate, landing hard on her compressed arms.  Matt ran the rope in his hand into the narrow space between her calves just above the ankle cinch and wrapped it down between her arches, forming a new tighter cinch of his own.  Sarah rolled onto her side and pleaded with her eyes for him to stop; but all she could do was watch the long end of rope sweep past her heels and toes as he wrapped the line several more times between her bare feet.  She glared at him as he sealed her neat wrappings in his sloppy loops that he tied off in wicked square knot on the front side of the binding.  "See..." he demonstrated, "if I place the knot in front, you won't be able to reach it." 

She took a deep breath through her nose and for the first time that evening, Sarah yelled into her gag, an unrecognizable cry that only 'mmmphed' as it sneaked out.  Matt admonished her, "Oh no... you’ve already had one surprise visitor this evening.  I don't think you could handle another."  He leaned over and flicked on the stereo, Sarah favorite station tuned in.  She groaned into her gag a few more times, her eyes questioning, and he turned the volume up until it just drowned her out.  "It's Saturday night... you won't be the only one playing music."  As if on cue, Sarah could hear her upstairs neighbor's stereo kick in to the same channel, and she knew no one would hear her now.  She threw her head back defeated, but lifted it again as she felt her legs rise off the ground. 

Matt had gathered up the remaining length of rope from her new ankle bondage and held it like a leash.  With full steps, he crossed the floor toward the corner of the living room, her feet suspended in the air, in tow.  This made her body swing around in place, pivoting on her lower arms on which she was resting.  With just a little effort, Matt pulled the rope and dragged the helpless form into the corner toward the heat riser pipe that ran hot water to the apartments above her.  Her cuffs, pressed under her, made an uncomfortable scraping noise against the floor.  The pipe stood about 4 inches from both walls, and Matt gave it a tap with his hands; cool to the touch.  Pulling her closer, he gathered up the rope and wrapped it around the pipe a few times, then passed the rest back to her ankle cinch and wrapped it around again.  He did this a few times until a few short cords connected her feet to the pipe, and with the rest of the rope, he wrapped the tether into a thick coiled braid about 6 inches from pipe to ankle.  He had just enough rope left to fix a nice knot and he tested the secure rigging, "Go ahead, sweetheart, give it a try."  Sarah complied, giving the anchor a half-hearted tug; she knew it would be enough to keep her trapped in the corner of the room.  She couldn't escape her own work, how was she going to free her feet from this?

Matt turned to the windows and closed the blinds and curtains, only the light from the kitchen remained.  He gave the stereo volume another half notch and squatted over the helpless Sarah, motionless on the floor.  He held the handcuff keys between his thumb and forefinger about a foot in front of her face, "Not that it matters now that you're tied head to toe and to your plumbing, but I'll just hang onto this as well." He snuck the key into the "key" pocket of his jeans, and Sarah looked away, turning her gaze to the wall, and she sobbed audibly as tears ran out of the corners of her eyes.  He continued, "So... I'm gonna go out for a few more hours, meet back up with my friends, a movie, some drinks.  But I'll be back later, rest assured.  Maybe by myself... maybe with some company.  I'm debating it right now", his head rocking back and forth to emphasize.  "I'm sure you won't mind waiting, right?"  He reached down and gave her nipples a tight squeeze.  A gasp ejected through her nose and more tears poured from her as she clenched her eyes shut to handle the pain.  A nasty grin spread across his lips, and he stood up and headed for the door, snatching her house keys from the kitchen counter.  Right before he opened the front door to leave, he flicked the kitchen light off and the apartment went pitch black, the outside world now fully obscured.  The light of the public hallway diminished as the door shut and Sarah could hear her lock click shut with a rattle of her keys.  She swore she could hear him singing to himself as the elevator bell rang.

"FUCK!... FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!", she screamed inside her head, angry at herself for letting that dickhead do this to her.  She howled into her gag, pleas for help diminishing into the music and chatter coming out of her speakers.  Her cries and whimpers abated after several minutes, and she tried desperately to catch her breath; her lungs aching from the desperate attempt.  Sarah didn't know what she could've done to resist him, but now it was beyond repair.  She gave her ankle tether a proper test, and the yank sent a dull vibration into the pipe, but neither it nor the ropes relented in the slightest, his work was solid.  After a few more tries, her anger dissolved into despair, and she curled up, pulling herself further into the corner.  Her sobs made her stomach convulse and ache and she had to get her breathing under control to ward off cramps.  Her hair was wet with tears and a small puddle started to form under her head. 

She lay there for several minutes in her tight bundle, trying to see anything, but the darkness was deep and she had trouble making out any details now.  She found it disorienting and she closed her eyes to focus and stave off dizziness.  From her vantage point, even the digital clock on the stove was obscured, and she quickly lost track of time.  She listened to the radio for a while, the DJ keeping a silent vigil over her; the commercials seemed all the more inane as a captive audience.  One of her favorite songs started, Lazy Eye by Silver Sun Pickups, and she started to cry again, her gasps and spasms out of her control.  Sarah had been waiting for this moment all her life, and it wasn't quite right.  This was helpless on a level she had never experienced.  As rigorous as her self-bondage sessions had been in the past, she now relied on the ultimate safety release, another person, as unscrupulous and diabolical as any she had ever met.  And she needed him more than ever. 

These thoughts made her anxious and, to her disgust and surprise, the anxiety actually made her a little aroused.  She thought about his quick work, and for all his presumptuousness, Sarah realized that he had given her exactly what she had wanted since she began playing with ropes as a kid, a true helpless experience.  Whether he could be trusted was unknown, and the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde show he put on earlier was disconcerting at the least.  Could she submit to him?  What was his plan?  Was the real villain who stumbled through her door ready to go where her fantasy gentleman dared not?  Was this part of some game to put them at the same level of understanding?  Fear and anticipation swirled through her mind and she lay in their combined ropes for some time and imagined what agonies lay before her that night.  She lay several minutes more, quiet now; a little more focused.  She lifter her head and stared down at her prominent breasts and alert nipples. 

“Damn” she thought, “I wish I could have told him to put the clover clamps on…”

28.11.09