Foreword: I must confess to mishandling these story parts and sending them to Gromet out of order. It has been suggested that I be punished for this transgression, perhaps hogtied and…well left to the whims of any readers I may have. I can only offer my profound apologies for the screw up and any continuity problems and hope for forgiveness from the users of this wonderful site.
Part 5: Turnabout 3
I awoke early as I always do and untangled myself from Marty. She was sprawled half under and half on the blanket and sheet. Her head was turned away from me, her hair fanned out on the pillow with her arms stretched into an ‘I surrender’ pose. She was breathing quietly and deeply, her mouth slightly open.
I hesitated for a minute and thought about just staying here with her, but there were some things I needed to do. I slipped quietly out of the bed and eased open a closet door. I slipped into a robe I found in there and tiptoed barefoot out of the room.
I headed for the kitchen. I hadn’t had a chance to really look around yet, but had glanced in here. And I needed coffee!
The kitchen was beautiful with appliances that were restaurant grade, granite counter tops and custom hard wood cabinets. On top of that it was a very warm comfortable room with eating space and a sitting area. My opinion of Janet rose a bit off the ambiance of this room. Maybe she wasn’t the cold business type I assumed she was.
I managed to find a coffee maker and the fixings. The first pot was too weak, but I hit it right on the second go-round. I took my coffee out onto the back porch, which opened off the kitchen. The deck boards were cold on my feet, but the view was gorgeous offering a beautiful view of undeveloped fields and woods stretching in all directions. Janet and/or her husband must be doing very well indeed! I felt a pang of envy; my town house was nice and all, but I was still a country girl at heart and this was a special place.
It was just about 5:30 and the sun was breaking the horizon. The air was still; the dew was rising off the manicured lawn. It was going to be a warm day; maybe I would take Marty outside for some playtime. I reluctantly headed back into the house to continue my tour. I wanted to get to know the layout of the house and maybe snoop a bit!
I listened at the bedroom door to Marty’s soft snoring before heading upstairs. There were several rooms up there, some of which appeared to be unused. There was also a bedroom with a decidedly masculine feel. I checked some of the drawers and closet and saw men’s clothing and stuff; this must be Mr. Janet’s room!
A bedroom at the end of the hall was apparently Janet’s. It faced out over the backyard and had a small deck that must have been located above the kitchen porch. This room had a separate dressing room/closet/bath area that was as big as my living room. Ah well, maybe in another life I would be rich!
I rifled through some of the drawers and clothes in the dressing area; it was all expensive things with labels that I had heard about, but couldn’t afford. There was a section in the dressing room that held a collection of fetish-y clothing, things like leather skirts, long gloves, hoods, etc. There was also a drawer that held cuffs and gags and the like. I guess Janet did like to play! A pile of clothes was conspicuously set aside on top of a dresser. I unfolded what appeared to be a spandex-y body suit. With it was a leather bustier, long gloves, even a Batman and Robin mask as well as, on the floor, a pair of black lace-up stiletto boots with side zippers. It occurred to me that maybe Janet had put these aside for me. I moved them to a spot near the door so that I wouldn’t forget them and put several sets of cuffs and a ball gag with them. If I was going to be a domme, maybe I should dress the part and I certainly would need some equipment!
I noticed a second room partitioned off the bedroom, which was apparently her office. It had great views of the back and side yards behind a desktop that included a pc and printer/scanner and other electronic thingies that I couldn’t identify. The pc was on and I clicked it alive, but just found the screen saver.
I snooped around on the desk a bit. A piece of paper sticking out of a drawer drew my attention. It seemed to be a list of passwords and ids for all manner of websites, including some bondage sites as well as financial sites. It seemed quite careless of Janet to leave this stuff around almost out in the open. Maybe when you are well off you think you are invincible, that no one can harm you or take advantage of you. It wasn’t my plan to use this any of this info, but…it never hurts to know something about what could be a future client. I copied the list and took it with me along with the domme stuff. I went back down stairs.
All the while I had been touring the house, I had been mulling over how to deal with Marty. Last night I had thought I had a plan, but now I had misgivings. My plan was to essentially force her into bondage by surprising her before she could come fully awake, maybe cuff and drag her out of bed, etc. etc., but than I wondered if that was too harsh. I mean I hardly knew the gal; true we had been intimate and all, but that wasn’t like I knew her. Maybe she would be put off by a hard approach. Maybe I should go slower and get her fed and awake before I brought up the “b” word. It all seemed so easy and straightforward last night!
I slipped into the room. She was still asleep, snoring softly, still on her belly with her head turned away from me. I tucked the paper copy of the passwords into my bag.
I eased the bathroom door open and squeezed in. After a quick shower, I climbed into the clothes I had found upstairs. The body suit fit…well, like a body suit. It was sleeveless with a turtleneck and was footed, which pulled it tight on me. It looked pretty good on. I had trouble getting the bustier on, but finally got it right…I thought. I pulled on the boots and inspected myself in the full-length mirror. Not bad! I wouldn’t mind if I domme-d me! I’m not a heel-wearing gal and I had to practice a bit on those skyscraper heels. After a few trips across the bathroom and back, I was pretty confident I could walk in them without twisting an ankle; the shafts of the boots reached to my knees and gave some additional support. I remembered the gloves and pulled them on. They extended up to my biceps. I wondered if I would be able to use my fingers properly through the fabric. The gloves were quite thin and sheer and probably I would be all right. Finally, I slipped the mask on. I was a little self conscious about it, although it did lend a campy sense of mystery to the outfit. In the end, though, I tossed it aside.
I was ready for my debut as a tricked-out domme. In fact I was nervous! Tying her up last night was one thing, but taking over her life and directing her every move and not looking ridiculous doing it was entirely something else!
I had finally decided to go with my original plan and sneak up on her while she slept, cuff her and then see where it went from there. A little drama, but not a full out assault and taking!
I moved back into the bedroom, cuffs in hand. I made it to the bed without waking her and carefully put the gag and ankle cuffs onto the bed table. I knew that I needed to get her hands cuffed first.
Marty was on her stomach with her hands by her side. She had worked out from under the blanket and I took in the sight of her lovely body stretched across the bed. Her head was turned away from me. I thought if I were careful and eased her hands into the small of her back, I would be able to cuff her without waking her. I didn’t know how soundly she slept, but I was about to find out.
I eased my fingers around her left wrist intending to move it carefully behind her when the situation changed before I was aware of what was happening. Marty somehow flipped over, spun around, sat up and kneed me right in the solar plexus all in one movement! Or at least that was what I pieced together after I had time to think about it. Right after it happened though, I was down on my knees trying to breathe.
She literally leaped off the bed and slammed me backwards to the floor. With strength I didn’t know she had she rolled me onto my stomach and hammer-locked my right arm up into the middle of my back. I yelled out in pain, still not fully understanding what was happening. She told me to shut up and to put my other hand behind me or she would pull my arm off and beat me with it. I didn’t want to find out if she could do it so I swung my left arm out and back and felt her release my right arm and cuff my wrists together. She ratcheted the cuffs down hard pinching my skin.
She gathered one leg and slapped a cuff around my ankle and then did the other leg all the while I was dithering trying to get my head around what was happening. She rolled me onto my back and sat hard on my belly, knees on either side of my chest.
I found my voice and sputtered “Marty? What the hell…?”
She clamped a hand over my mouth and hissed at me. “You look ridiculous in that outfit! You’re no domme! And you’re about to find out that I am!”
My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. She was telling me that I couldn’t cut it as a domme. And although it wasn’t my life’s ambition, I thought I had done all right last night.
But overriding everything was this radical change in her personality. Where was the sweet gal that I slept with and sort of fell for? This version of Marty seemed to be a stone cold bitch! Could I have misjudged her this badly? I was extremely perplexed by this turn of events and not a little concerned. She wasn’t acting rationally.
“And another thing!” she spat out. She slid forward and pressed her sex to my face cutting off all oxygen. I squirmed under her weight until she lifted off me. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”
While I was still getting over her face sit, she flipped me onto my stomach and forced the ball gag into my mouth, strapping it tightly in place.
I felt like a piece of meat being tossed around by her at will.
She stood then and stepped over me like I was something the cat coughed up. I struggled to a sitting position and watched her rummage through the drawers of a dresser across the room.
She stalked back over to me with an armful of coiled hemp rope. I couldn’t do a thing as she pushed me back down onto the carpet and began to apply it. I was glad I was wearing the boots as she tightly cinched my ankle after releasing the cuffs. She did the same with the other rope she applied at my knees and at the mid point of my thighs. The handcuffs on my wrists were replaced with tight cinched loops and she took particular delight in crushing my elbows together. Longer strands were used to weld my arms to my torso. She kept up a running commentary on my temerity in assuming I could domme her.
If I could have talked I would have reminded her that her friends had hired me to do it!
She seemed to have a lot of anger and she was working it out by turning me into an immobile object. I had been tied many times, but never with the ferocity this gal was exhibiting. I hoped that I would make it through whatever she had planned for me. And at the same time I felt the tingle in my gut that really good bondage creates.
She topped off her demonstration by drawing me into an arched hogtie with a taut rope running from my elbows to my ankles. She tightened it drawing my hands towards my feet until they were well past my heels. And as the crowning touch, she drew my head back and off the floor with a rope between my gag and my elbow bindings. The tension pulled the ball further into my mouth and the strap immediately began to chafe the corners of my mouth. Despite my resolve to persevere, tears rimmed my eyes. This bondage was almost unbearable! I hoped she knew that and would relent…soon!
She stood and announced she was going to take a shower, leaving me pretzeled into a painful tie and wondering what she would do next!
story continues in The Victim 6: Turnabout 4