Although my name is Erin, an Irish name, I am of partly Spanish origin, and am slender, dark and tall, appearing more Spanish than Irish. The story is that I am descended from a sailor of the Spanish fleet that went to attack England in the 1500's and who was washed ashore on the Irish coast during a storm.

Now in my thirties and single again, I have visited Ireland, and, finally, last year, toured Spain. The tour included several cities, the wine and date producing countryside, and two ancient castles in that countryside.

Two of my kinda kinky female friends knew I was going on the tour. One even lent me her camera. Both paid me a visit at my apartment soon after I returned. During the visit, I treated them both to a light meal and told them of my journey, the sights, and showed them the pictures I took.

Several of the pictures included myself in the scene. Stomping grapes barefoot. Shopping at an outside market. Kneeling in a cathedral. That sort of thing. And then came one that I would have deleted if I had not forgotten it: of myself stretched on the rack in the dungeon of a castle dating from before the Inquisition.

The tour leader had asked for a volunteer for demonstration of the cruel implements of the Spanish Inquisition. I had been 'volunteered' by my tour mates. Possibly because of the low-cut blouse and rather too short skirt, and easily removable sandals I was wearing at the time. And that is how I appeared in the picture; lashed tautly to the rack, a bit of cleavage, a bit of thigh, the sandals removed. Let me say here that the rest of the tour was quite innocent, but the comments I had to endure while so exposed on the rack got me just a little unexpectedly sexually excited. I think that if I had been a man, it would have showed. Maybe that is why no man 'volunteered.'

Anyway, my girlfriends picked right up on that darned picture, and my life has not been the same since. Holly, the more naive of my two friends, said, "Golly Erin, is that really you? You look kinda sexy like that."

Barbara - Barb - is not at all naive, as I was about to learn, said, "No she doesn't; she looks VERY sexy."

And I said, "I meant to delete that darned picture." I was showing them on my computer, and began to do a delete, when Barb said, "Too late now, Erin; it's still on my camera card."

So I asked Barb if she would please delete it.

And Holly asked Barb if she would make her a copy first. "To show my girlfriend how kinky my other girlfriend is."

And Barb said, "No way I am going to delete this little item. In fact, I might just show it around . . . unless . . ."

"Unless what?" I was beginning to feel out of control.

"Well," Barb began, "unless you let us, or at least me, try a little more bondage on you, since you were so HOT in that picture."

So innocent at the time, I asked, "What is bondage? Isn't that something Moses led the Jews out of? Or Lincoln freed the slaves from?"

Holly said, "Silly woman! And at your age! I am pretty naive, but even I know what bondage is."

Then Barb put her oar into the water: "Bondage is people tying each other up for the fun of it mainly. Sometimes it is as much fun for the one tied up as it is for the one doing the tying. As I intend to do to you if you will let me. You are big enough to stop me, BUT I have the picture, which I imagine you do not want shown around."

"You really want to tie me up, Barb? I'd be so . . vulnerable. And you are so . . . . weird. But if you really want to, I guess I'll have to let you."

"Good, that's the way, girl. Now, do you have any old ropes or anything around here I can use?"

I didn't and told her so. But she then countered by suggesting that we raid my pantyhose drawer. And I objected, telling her that I did not want my clothes messed up, including my pantyhose. And Holly said she would pay for new ones. And so, I felt so foolish a moment later, rummaging in my drawer and bringing my "guests" a couple of my pantyhose.

And Holly said, "Not enough do tie you up real good. I'll donate mine." And began to remove her own.

"Well, we just do not have anything we can use for a rack around here, so I guess we will just have to tie you up in a hogtie on the floor this time."

I asked, "What the heck is a hogtie? And what, exactly, do you mean by 'this time?"

"You'll soon find out what a hogtie is. And I mean to tie you up again. . . and again if you are as hot a bondage slut as I think you might be. Not much you can do about it, is there, Erin dear?"

"I guess there isn't. But, please don't call me a 'slut.' Ok? So, now, what do you want me to do?"

"Strip down to your undies and lie face down on the floor. I hope it's clean for you."

"Strip?! That's not nice to make me do."

"Well, you should have deleted that picture. Now you belong to Holly and me; so get to it."

Well, ten minutes or so later, I was face down on the floor, my wrists so tightly tied together and my bare feet tied and drawn back behind me to my wrists. I had never been tied up in childhood games of cops and robbers or anything like that, so had not know what to really expect. The only "bondage" I had known was being lashed to that darned rack in that darned dungeon during my tour of Spain. I had felt a little 'funny' then, but, tied up and helpless alone with Holly and Barb, I really got a case of the hots. Especially as I thought that they might be gay or bi. And, yes, it turned out that they were - are. They are still in my life.

You see, Barb took several more pictures of me tied up on the floor of my apartment. And used them to blackmail me that very evening into letting them tie me up other ways. Including, finally nude and spreadeagled, as they called it, on my bed. At least they did not take any pictures when each of them undressed and got on top of me on the bed. And made me . . . well, I'd rather not spell that out.

It turned out that Barb is strictly a very dominant woman and Holly is sort of submissive, like I now have to be, whether I like it or not. And so, Barb has tied up Holly and made her do things with me. Which are photographed.

And so, now, though I am quite an assertive woman at my workplace and in "normal" social occasions, otherwise, I have been made the property of Barb. As is Holly, so it turns out.

And, as her 'property' she has recently hinted that she is considering 'lending' me out to certain friends in the lesbian community to whom she owes some favors. Barbara has instructed me to visit some bondage web sites, so I have and have learned a lot from them. I now feel almost happy in my new role as her captive and slave, except for the constant worry about her exposing me to the 'normal' world.

I guess that if I behave myself and am obedient to her, Barbara will not expose me. If she does, she knows she will no longer have this hold over me.

So, I am writing this at her command. And, I am looking forward with some anxiety to being gagged with some new device that she found on the internet.

See what an innocent tour of the homeland of an ancestor has caused me.

Barb has told me that I had better do a good job in writing this, and that she will punish me if it is not good enough to get us some interesting fan mail. So, please send me a note so I will not be punished too badly.

24.04.11