Those of you who have read my stuff understand that I will go to unusual lengths to enjoy getting tied up. This includes paying for it. So that is why I was looking through the section on health services in the Washingtonian magazine. Not that they were really all "health services." The first advertiser I called was listed as something like "Olga's Spa." I got an answering machine, so moved on. The second had a similar name, but I got a live answer. But the reply to my question if they would tie me up was negative. I was kinda discouraged, but moved on because I really wanted it and figured that getting it from a business firm would be safe. The third place had yet a similar name - I honestly do not recall exactly.

This receptionist's voice was businesslike but friendly. And when I asked if they had someone on the staff who would tie me down for my "massage," she said, "Certainly do. A couple, actually." Arrangements were made for me to ask for Brianna if and when I arrived at one of the times she would be available. The call ended by the receptionist laughing gently and saying, "Brianna is sweet. You'll like her. Unlike the other girl who has been complained about a couple of times because she has been too rough.."

So, it was raining hard on a weekday afternoon, before the rush, when I nervously approached the aging strip mall where the place was located; fast food shop, pawnbrokers, karate school, cleaners, a few other shops, including a couple vacant. Not the best part of town, but it seemed safe enough. Even though it was not to be a very busy time of day for the massage business, there were quite a few cars in the lot, and I got the evil eye and finger from an attractive but rough looking woman as I took the close-in parking space that I guess she had planned to use.

Shades and drapes were drawn so that I could not see into the business until after I opened the door and entered. Four attractive but slightly over made-up young women smiled at me from chairs along the back wall as I walked to speak to the even more attractive receptionist behind a desk. All of the women, including the receptionist, were equally interesting looking to me, so it wouldn't make any difference which one would turn out to be Brianna, who I hoped would soon have me trussed up tightly as I had not been for too long. However, one of the women had a mischievous glint in her eye, a flirty wink and a kind of "let's do it together" grin which was interesting.

I told the receptionist that I had been instructed to ask for Brianna. She smiled and said that she remembered our conversation from a couple of days before because not too many clients asked for the service that I had. The receptionist and I briefly discussed procedures, and money was exchanged for an hour session, the she summoned Brianna, who turned out not to be the flirty one.

Brianna was great though. A redhead, about average height and weight, generous mouth, a little too made-up, but not bad, black blouse, skirt, hose and heels. "Goody; let's go back to my room and have some fun," she said, taking me by the hand.

Brianna's room was not large; a massage table, chair, dresser about all. She closed the door and asked me to undress. I felt darned foolish doing it as she stood there fully clothed; but it was her turf, so I did a told, even though I was the "customer." As soon as i became naked, Brianna said, "Hmm, nice. You are very large. Sit in the chair, please."

As I seated myself - the chair was sturdy but small, so that my balls hung over the front of the seat - Brianna selected a length of rope from a collection on the bed - no doubt prepared in anticipation of this appointment. "Hands behind the chairback, Strand." Brianna was very quick and thorough as she crossed my wrists, tied them horizontally, vertically, cinched and to a chairback rung. My arms were over the low back, so she used another, longer length of rope to draw my elbows almost together and also tie my arms to the chairback. Next, she tied my ankles back to the rear chairlegs, spreading my knees and thighs wide, which made my genitals openly vulnerable to . . . whatever.

Brianna giggled and teased me as she tied me up - teased me about how hard and erect I was becoming the more she tied me. "Now, I guess I better gag you so the other girls won't hear me torture you." "Torture" put a little scare in me, but she quickly patted my shoulder and reassured me, "It's ok; I won't hurt you." She was about to put a bit in my mouth when there was a gentle knock at the door.

When Brianna opened the door, there was the woman who had been flirty in the reception area. She looked at me, smiled, and said, "Brianna, the boss just came in and wants to see you. I'll stay here and take care of him." So, now I was in the hands of the gal who had grinned and winked as if we already had something together. "HI. You're Strand, aren't you? I'm Kerri. My goodness, but you look helpless. I've never tied up a man, but it looks like fun."

"Hello Kerri. This is humiliating, but I guess you've seen a naked man before. But not tied up?"

"Nope. It's something I'll have to try. What's this?" as she picked up the bit gag. I told her.

"You know Strand, I like you. I wish I could take Brianna's place." Then she stepped behind me, out of my vision for a full minute as she chatted and made me want her more. Oh, yes, the description: wavy chestnut hair, brown eyes, expressive mouth, muscular as if she were an athlete, small breasts but tremendous legs and butt; dressed in a white blouse, shorts, crew socks, and sneakers - businesslike for a massage therapist, I guess, and very much to my own personal tastes. Then Kerri came back to where I could see her as she tucked something into her small cleavage.

"What you been doing back there, pal?"

"Yes, Strand, I wish we could be pals, but . . . ." And the door burst open.

A severe but attractive early middle aged woman entered the room. "Out, please, Kerri. I'll deal with Mr. Ankler."

Kerri gave me an encouraging smile, but left obediently as I wondered what was going on, what had happened to Brianna. The woman looked vaguely familiar, and certainly seemed to recognize me, but not especially approvingly. Maybe even with downright hostility.

Then it came to me; the woman in the parking lot who had given me the finger. "So," as she closed the door, "while I was getting a drink in the Shop-Mart after you stole my space, you were walking into my trap, and both of us didn't realize it. Too bad for you, fella, because I'm taking over from here on. What do you say about that.?"

"I'm sorry. If I had known . . ., " I began, but she was picking up the bit gag. "Oh, shit, I'm in trouble, right?"

"Right. Open your mouth." I knew better than to antagonize the woman, so did as she ordered. "Wider!" My new captor was not gentle as she drew the bit tight against the corners of my mouth and strapped it into place. "My name is Ms. Russell, but you will call me "Mistress," if and when you are not gagged. Understand?" The last was punctuated with a hard jerk on the strap holding the gag.

"Hmm, Brianna hasn't finished tying you yet. We'll take care of that right now." Her glance downward told me that she was referring to my male sexual organs; making me shiver with fright, even as I suspected that the woman would not really harm me. "Don't move if you know what is good for you." Then she tied a length of thin rope around my sac and stretched it down to a lower chair rung - not tight enough to harm me, but enough to make me sit very still indeed.

Ms Russell - "Mistress" did not let me out of the gag long enough to call her as required more than once near the end of my session of torture. No, she did not harm me, but the long, drawn-out handling of my penis and balls made me cry for relief. And part of that time, she sat facing me on my lap, forcing my hard and erect penis downward, but not letting it enter her - only feel her warmth.

When she had finished with me a couple of hours later, Ms. Russell summoned the other women in to witness my humiliating softness, my degradation, the complete wipe-out of my manliness. To please their superior, they almost all twittered and laughed at me. All except Kerri, whose admiration I expected to lose because of my utter degradation. But Kerri looked at me appraisingly, caught my eye, and grinned again, even as a thin stream of saliva drooled from my mouth onto my chest.

"Alright Brianna, you can have him back again. I think that maybe he has learned his lesson. You can keep him as long as you wish since we aren't busy, then untie him and let him go."

When the other women had left, Brianna said, "I wonder if I can coax this up again," as she lightly touched my thrice used member. "Maybe not with my hand," as she turned me in the chair toward the bed, sat on the edge and began to remove her shoes and hosiery. "You look like a footy kind of man. Am I right?" And she softly reached out toward me with her bare toes. I don't know how she knew, but she was right. In only a little while, her soft feet had done their magic, coaxed me hard again, and led me to a final climax.

Ms Russell smiled at me when I left through the reception area. Kerri was nowhere to be seen. I later learned that she had left.

How did I later learn that Kerri had left? Well, because I received an email from herthe next day. "Hi Strand. I hope you are okay. You still looked awfully cute after Ms. Russell had done whatever she did to you. If you still like what you went there for, email me. I've been on the web all last night and learned a lot. If not, I'm so sorry. Kerri" When Kerri had gone behind me just before Ms. joined the game, she had gotten into my wallet and found enough information to find me. I had thought that my stuff was safe, but glad to learn that it wasn't.

I did email her, but that is yet another story. All I will say now is, yes, Kerri did learn a lot.

A final note from the author. This is a fictional story, although not far from the facts. I have paid to get tied up several times, both by men and women. I know that many men look down on paying for sex, but sometimes some things just have to be done, and I am not sorry for having done it. And may again if the right provider can be found who is safe, skilled and enthusiastic.

If this little tale amuses you, email strndnklr@aol.com

11.04.09