Binding Love

by John Roper

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2003 - John Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/fff; bond; packaged; cons; X

As with everything she did, Lovell wanted her first, adult experience with bondage and discipline to be state of the art. From what her friends had to say about it, �For Most Fantasies, Inc.� seemed the best way to go. Nineteen years of no-complaint business, within its meticulously discreet demographic, and thousands of anonymous and signed letters from a grateful majority of very satisfied clients, abundantly testified to �For Most�s� strictly confidential, top-of-the-line standards. No cover or true identity had ever been blown, no one had ever been either psychologically or physically damaged, and no lawsuit ever filed, a track record that did much to attract clients of Lovell�s demanding and discriminating tastes.

�There�s always a first time,� prophesied Love, with a mischievous smile, during the signing of her FMF contract in the AM of October 12th, 2001. �Then, of course, there�s always the unexpected,� she smiled and said as she looked up from Breck Sundee�s desk. �Know what I mean?�

I was having breakfast at the time. The phone signaled. It was Breck.

�Hello, Chris?�

�Hey, BS. How goes it?�

�We just signed Love. How soon can we be ready?�

I�d been planning her odyssey since she�d made first contact a month earlier. �How soon can she?�

Love was spending a quiet evening with her diary, and wondering how, when, and where FMF would begin the game, when I told Haley to strip down to just her black-nylon panties and cross her wrists in front of her. While I bound them together with eighth-inch, soft line, she whispered, �Why are we whispering?�

�Why are you begging for a gag?� I countered, with the setting of the last knot. �On the bed.� Her ankles were soon crossed and bound as well. �Give me your wrists.� I tethered them to the center of the headboard, and was about to do the same to her ankles at the foot of the bed when Haley again dared me to stuff something too big into her gorgeous mouth.

�What am I missing here, Chris?� she cracked, with a mischievous smile, thereby placing another straw on the back of my dwindling patience. �What else is going on that I should know about?�

I grabbed her ankles, pulled out all the remaining slack in her one hundred-ten pound physique, and knotted the tether securely. �One more word, and the ball gag goes in.� It hung from her neck like some shiny-red, exotic bauble. She flexed her sexy fingers and took a deep breath, hoping the flagrant display of chest expansion and seductive eye candy would speak to me in a more provocative, less consequential language.

Haley needed cash, and she needed it now. I needed an experienced consort to put the finishing touches on Love�s kinky adventure. Haley also needed discipline, to curb her wild spending binges. I needed a smart and sexy actress, who could think on her feet and make instant course corrections, should an unexpected wrinkle require ironing out. So Haley accepted my symbiotic offer, signed a release, and showed up, on time, and raring to go.

So here I was, standing at Love�s door, waiting for my bell ring�s answer, with black-leather bag in hand, and a faded jeans outfit, complete with western boots, that made a fashion statement not unlike that of a cowboy prepared for a long day of doggie (dough-ghee) branding. While taking a deep breath, Love peered at me through the front door fish eye, internally prepared herself, and irreversibly committed to the open ended game she�d dreamed of playing almost all of her eighteen year life. My first line reminded us both of just how current that event was on the calendar of Love�s long-suffering expectations. �Happy Birthday.�

She smiled at my half-hearted grin and opened the door. �Thank you. Welcome to my home.� While she locked us in, I did a split-second scan of Love�s chosen style. Cut down, frayed jeans, to the crotch, and a skin-tight, sleeveless, black tank top was the extent of her fashion statement. She led the way into the living room and sat on the couch, patted her left hand on its cushy surface, and said, �Can I get you a drink?� A crackling blaze roared in the fireplace to our right.

�Thank you, no.� I sat in the designated area and dropped my bag on the floor. �You wanna talk, or get right to it?�

Her brows shot up nervously. �Talk about what?�

�The twenty-two thousand.�

�...Oh, that.� The game had obviously begun. �What�s to talk about?�

�Were you able to raise the money?�


�Then you�re prepared to be my slave for five hundred an hour until the marker is paid off?�

Love stood, walked to the fireplace, and placed both hands on its mantle, just above eye level. �Whatever it takes.�

�Then lock your finger together behind your back.�

She hesitated. �What for?�

�You ask too many questions. Now do it, or I�m outta here, and your marker will be sold to a less accommodating trainer.�

Her hands remained on the mantle. �Trainer?� The heat from the fire added an ominous spin to our exchange of initial chatter, causing the temperature on the front of Love�s well-endowed physique to radiate in concert with her swelling expectations. �What kind of trainer?�

�The mean, nasty kind.�

A few pensive seconds passed. �What kind are you?�

I was now standing directly in back of Love�s overheating deliberations. �The kind whose patience has just come to an end.� I grabbed her upper arms and pulled them together behind her back.

She resisted. �What are you doing?� The first time event all but demolished her cool. �Oh-my-God.�

I said nothing. The rope that bound Love�s elbows together was soon in charge of saying it all.

�Why are you doing this to me? I�m willing to cooperate.� Her resistance, though futile, intensified.

So did mine. �Then cooperate.� Three, tight knots completed the ten footer�s insisting effect before my left hand locked onto Love�s belt in back, and my right pushed her closer to the fire. �The mean and nasty guy would keep you like this for the next five minutes.�

�Love was sure she couldn�t handle more than another thirty seconds. �OK-OK! I�ll cooperate.�

I held her there anyway. �I�m a bondage trainer, and thanks to your serious gambling problem, you�ve managed to fall into my power for the next forty hours. Do what I say, when I say it, and we�ll get along just fine.� I guided her over to the cushy couch and told her to �Sit.� She watched as I placed two more logs on the blaze. �Don�t do what I say, and you can expect the following.�

She watched me head for my bag. �The following what?�

Haley stared up at herself in the ceiling mirror and watched the bondage video I�d left her with on the big screen TV facing the bed. There were three women in the video, all of whom were in one room, scantily clad, and dressed in ropes too expertly tied to escape. �Where the hell is he?� I�d never been gone that long before. �He knows I�m not crazy about being left alone like this.� Other than a close, female friend, I was the only other person in Haley�s circle who knew of her kinky leanings.

�There�s a white-plastic bag in my sack.� I informed Love from a comfortable chair opposite the couch. �Go get it.�

She stood and walked to her first task, flashed me a tiny smile and a line of sarcasm. �Anything you say, master.� She knew I�d be carefully watching her, so she took her sweet time and performed the task as gracefully and sexily as she could. Thanks to the elbow cinch, her gorgeous breasts protruded nicely.

�Bring it here.� She did. I opened the sack and pulled out a pair of very high heels. �Turn around.� I placed a shoe in each of Love�s hands. �Put them on.� She walked to the center of the room, dropped them on the floor, and, with some effort, slipped them onto her already bare feet, without ever taking her eyes off mine. �Turn around.� I gave her a sly look. �Now take off the shorts.�

Her brows wrinkled a bit. �What?�

�You heard me. Take�m off.� 


�Do it.� Watching Love�s perfect figure squirm and snake a first attempt inspired a follow-up line. �If they�re not off by the time I�m back from the bathroom, I�ll assume you wish to test my patience even further.�

She didn�t make a move as I left the room. �How long are you going to be?�

�As long as it takes.�

When I entered the guest bedroom, Haley expressed her displeasure in no uncertain terms. �I don�t care how much I�m getting paid for this little fantasy trip of yours. If you leave me alone for one more...�

I cut her off with the ball gag and strapped it securely. �It�s show time.�

Love was doing her best to lose the ropes on her elbows. �Damn!� She had already decided to see what I would do, should she not remove her jeans shorts by the time I got back. I picked up the bedroom phone and placed a call. �It�s me. Bring her over now.�

Haley�s livid countenance shifted the evening�s agenda into second gear. �Huhuh? Ahahahnn!�

�You always did have a way with words� was the line I chose before slamming and locking the door.

Love was standing in front of the fireplace when I returned. �What took you so long?� A hungry look eyeballed back at me. I went straight to my bag, extracted a fifty-foot length of three-eighths, seamless nylon, another ball gag, and stood in back of her. �You ask too many questions,� I said while hanging the mouth restraint around her long, sultry neck. �If I hear another word, it will cost you your freedom to speak.� She had also kicked off the seven-inch heels while I was gone. �Now go put those skyscrapers back on, and be quick about it.� I took careful note of the fact that her hands had not turned red, or showed signs of falling asleep. �Your circulation pleases me, though it may prove to be a mixed blessing before your forty hours are up.�

�Forty-four,� corrected my increasingly hot and bothered damsel to herself. Despite Love�s semi-frivolous attitude, the essence of the game was now seriously impacting her inexperience. Not being able to free herself from the elbow bind while I was gone profoundly changed the depth of her perspective, for no one had ever successfully bound Love before. She watched me undo the skein of fifty-foot nylon as she again slipped into the heels and thought, �Wow. I�m actually being tied up by a man who could care less about how crazy it�s driving me.� Her fantasy had come full circle, from the pre-adolescent murmuring of Love�s kinky imagination and sexuality, to the half dozen escape games she�d played with teenage friends, to the apex of a major session with a very experienced and disciplined bondage trainer. Flashbacks of the contract she�d signed with For Most Fantasies made the moment crackle with unaccustomed excitement. �No full nudity; no penetration or erogenous fondling, and no safe word.� Only a level seven intensity preference came between her and anything I decided to explore in the way of multiple choices Love had checked on her FMF questionnaire.

Her upper body was soon held fast in a cocoon of thick, unyielding rope. Her jaw dropped, her pretty features relaxed, while an expression of total, sensual reflection revealed a side of the eighteen-year-old virgin no one had ever seen before. According to her contract, only Love could remove her own clothing. �What was I thinking?�

�How about we take a walk.� I gestured towards the hall, picked up my bag, and waited on Love�s obedience. When we reached the guest room, I said, �Stop,� took hold of her upper arms, and planted a very soft and sexy kiss on her slightly opened mouth. Though totally surprised, she reciprocated passionately, and made all kinds of frustrating sounds and seductive gestures, hoping to put a kink in the professional armor of my self-control, and another notch on the ledger of Love�s, up-to-now, perfect track record in the fine art of seductive conquest.

Haley listened carefully to the heated exchange of erotic foreplay, twitching sensually whenever the sound of Love�s bound and determined bones slammed up against the door�s thick, hardwood surface... �Uhuhuh!� When Love heard Haley�s ball-gagged feedback, a contest of wills ensued, between what she desperately wanted, and what her mind was factoring into her outraged sensibilities. �Who the hell is that?�

I stopped kissing her to put in the ball gag. While I did, she listened critically to my explanation. �We came in through the window earlier. Would you like to meet her before punishment is administered?� The shock of realized intelligence took all but a few seconds to transform Love into a medley of raging protestation, just enough time to secure the gag and pin her squirming indignation to the door. Haley was screaming at the tops of her lungs and struggling madly in the knowledge of her speculations and horniness. I threw Love�s kicking and writhing body over my shoulder and headed down the hallway to the master bedroom. �What�s the matter, don�t you like to entertain house guests?�

Ten minutes later, Love was tied to the front of her dark-wood, four-poster, with legs spread wide apart and tethered by the ankles to the bottoms of each. To give her something to ponder, while I worked the ropes, I�d left a twenty-foot line dangling from her wrist cinch. Love was on tiptoes, thanks to a two-inch thick book placed under each heel. The dresser mirror in front of her reflected a vision she�d never seen or imagined before. It triggered a wealth of latent behavior, bringing to a boil the extent of Love�s overwrought frustration in a way only a bound and beautiful damsel can fully appreciate. 

While Love contemplated the gag, and the feel of the fixed position of muscle distention her legs were forced to endure, I ran the wrist tether line over the top of the bed frame, down and back up under it, up between her legs, to the waist ropes in front, back down again and under her crotch, over the bed frame and down to its base, where it was secured, after all the slack was taken out. �There. How�s that?�

The look my new damsel gave me was precious, like she was saying, �Are you kidding?�

I smiled and left the room, Love�s first bondage trip was pushing more vulnerability buttons than she knew she had. �Look at me. I�m so hot, even I�m turning me on...� Leaning in any direction, or bending her knees, engendered combinations of sensual energy and sensation foreign to her super-sensitive nature, exploding without warning into the bull�s eye of her hard pressed libido�s ravenous appetite. �Where the hell does one learn how to do this?�

�Who the hell is she?� asked Haley after I removed her gag.

�I can�t tell you that. Just keep being your usual, haphazard self, whenever a fit hits your fan, and the evening will be over before you know it.�

Try as Love did, there was no getting a handle on her out-of-control dilemma. Reappearing only served to aggravate the situation. My lips were on her neck like a vacuum cleaner, testing every nook and cranny, every orifice, niche and sensually sensitive flashpoint of redlining passion. It drove her nuts for a good ten minutes. Only, don�t quote me on that. It might have been twenty. Since fondling had been factored out, by contract, I kept my hands behind my back. About halfway through our little necking session, the gag was removed for more intimate access and oral penetration. The rest is history...

�You may ask a question, if you wish.�

�...Who is she?�

�...First, tell me where you keep your cash.�

�...My what?�

�...Your money.� I stepped back to give Love a taste of the consequences not telling me would cost her. �Where is it?�

She pulled herself together as best she could. �But I thought...� The distance between us cried out for closure.

�I want two thousand, in cash, now.�

Her aroused but subdued rage could not have been more provocative. �This is one hell of a time to be asking for money.� She�d never dealt with this much sensual conflict before.

�If you don�t tell me, the gag will go back in and something unsavory will happen until you do.� I folded my arms in front of me and leaned back against the right side of the dresser, so as not to block Love�s line of sight to the mirror. The hump in my crotch suddenly took on a whole new meaning.
Her eyes went wild with uninhibited candor. So did her sorely teased and turned on body. �I can�t do that.�

I stepped forward and roughly grabbed her by the hair. My other hand worked the ball. �Have it your way.�

She squirmed and thrashed in her bondage, calling upon what little opposing willpower she had left to thwart my untoward intentions. Several seconds of high end body language and excitement passed, during which Love realized that, as long as the other woman was in the house, she�d have no leverage at all, where the bargaining chip of satisfying her trainer�s kinky satisfactions was concerned. Every so often, Love took stock of her situation in the mirror as she fought off the gag and thought, �this is too real... Why didn�t I take off the shorts when I had a chance? Tiffany was right- these guys are good.... Oh-my.�

The front doorbell chimed. The sexual energy suddenly went crackers, as did the look on Love�s face. �Who�s that?�


Before leaving the room to accept delivery of damsel Brenda, I gave Love another shot at passively accepting the gag. She glared her refusal at me, tearing into her ropes in a mad attempt at arousing the side of me she now so desperately wanted. As a consequence, the two books were removed from under her heels, bringing all kinds of pressure to bear in the throws of her aroused regrets. The only way Love could prevent the weight of her own body from intensifying the crotch rope�s effect was to get back on her toes. �Sure you don�t want the gag?� 

A few thrilling beats came and went.

Love�s short-circuiting deliberations would neither accept nor reject the ultimatum. I left the room, slamming and locking the door behind me.

Haley was still livid with bound and determined resentment, and hornier than I�d ever seen her.

�Now-now,� I soothed. �Be good. It�s time to play your part.� After undoing the wrist tether from the headboard, I sat her up and used a belt to secure her elbows as close together behind her back as possible, then untied her ankles and removed the gag.

�You son of a...�

�Naughty-naughty. Be professional. Put on your heels.� I ran the wrist tether line between her legs, up under and over the elbow belt, pulled out all the slack, and then some, and tied it off. The ball gag remained around her neck, just in case. Haley�s bound wrists were now in front of her. She knew the sight of her flailing, fisting fingers was a major turn-on of mine, so she played the moment to the hilt. �How many other women did you invite to this fantasy?� 

Brenda stood, waiting patiently under her cape. A studded and spiked, black-leather collar and leash, the end of which was secured the front door knob, made sure she stayed right where she was until I answered her keeper�s beckoning chime. She was forty, with a buxom shapeliness that hadn�t shown signs of aging since her late twenties, and an insatiable need to play that hadn�t quit, or showed signs of diminishing since For Most Fantasies first introduced her curiosity to the game of pleasurable distress, some thirteen years earlier. 

Her wrists were crossed and bound up between her shoulder blades, and secured to the upper torso with several turns of thick rope around and above her hard-pressed breasts. A single crotch rope ran from her waist in front to the wrist bind, forcing Brenda to stand tall in her bondage and near nakedness, or �suffer� the gnawing consequences. Black, strapless bra, panties and skyscrapers completed her aesthetically pleasing, kinky fix. The cape was bright-red, knee-length, and loose fitting. The gag, soft cloth stuffing, belt-free ball, and several tight turns of blue Elastoplast, hidden under a zipped-up mouth accessory on the front of the form-fitting hood. She was alone, and hoping that, whatever awaited her 40DD-25-38 figure would keep Brenda�s mind off of a real life that could not have been more boring than it was, at least where her current situation was concerned.

I sat on the comfortable chair, to the left of the hearth, watching its hypnotizing flames dance in concert with the fires burning in the lower parts of everyone in the house Love rented for the occasion. A quarter hour or so had passed since I�d left her to ponder the consequences now dancing perilously close to the contracted limitations she�d so specifically stipulated.

A kick on the door brought Love to her toes for the one-hundredth time. �Are my calves getting a workout, or what?�

�Anybody in there?� improvised Haley, before turning her back to the door. �Hello? Is anyone there?� 

The tense tone of my consort�s frantic query was the straw that broke the back of Love�s current erupting point. A continuous string of wildly out-of-control contortions, and accompanying, sensual feedback, exploded in concert with Haley�s carefully timed and toned ravings, toe kicks, and doorknob jiggling.

�Hey, who�s in there? What�s going on around here? If you�re in there with a bimbo, Chris, you can forget about Bermuda.�

As usual, Love could not keep her big mouth shut. �There�s no one in here but me.�

�...Who�s me?�

�None of your damned business.� The locked door spurred Love�s courage, but the vacillating pressure and friction-generated heat between her legs insisted she not use every ounce of remaining control to keep from expressing the pleasurably demanding aspect of her unbelievably surreal situation. �Go away. There�s nothing for you in here.�

Haley�s tone lowered to pleading level. �Listen, I�m really tied up tight out here, and I don�t think my boyfriend will be back for several hours. He�s done this to me before, but always leaves me a way out to find. Don�t you see? You�re my way out... Are you listening?�


�Please open the door.�

�...I can�t�

�Why not?�

�Take a wild guess.�


While the girls got verbally acquainted, I sat Brenda on a three-foot stool in front of the fire, crossed and bound her ankles and heels together, and threw another log on the blaze before applying four circles of cinched, three-eighths inch nylon rope above and below her knees.

�Is Chris boinking you?� asked Haley through the door to Love�s exhausted pleasure.


�Is he muhmuhmuh?�

My hand over her mouth ended the conversation. �I told you to stay in your room.�

She struggled crazily, kicking the door several time, for effect, before I dragged Haley back to her next disciplinary measure. �MUHUMUH! MMUHUH!�
Love listened carefully to our little tussle and allowed her heels to, once again, touch the floor. �This is gloriously insane.�

Ten Minutes Later

She watched me remove a kinky-blond wig, a pair of dark, wrap-around sunglasses, and a leash and collar from my bag. The gag and heel books were again doing their thing, much to the gratefully ungrateful �relief� of my seriously out-of-control damsel. After accessorizing Love�s head and face, to completely mask her identity, I undid her from the bed frame and said, �How about we take another walk?�

She resisted, somewhat, as if to say, �Wherever it is you�re taking me, how about we not go there until I know where there is?�

I took the leash in hand and headed for the door. �Show me the money.� Love�s resistance doubled. �OK, be that way.� I jerked her chain a bit to accent my dissatisfaction. The sensation set off all sorts of first time impulses. �Muhuuhuh!�

�Is it in here?�

She walked slowly to the door. It obviously was.

Haley�s hog-tie was severely tethered to the upper calf bind; her ankle�s to the back of the ball gag strap, forcing the bow in her back to achieve a posture my ropes had never demanded before. Her elbows were cinched together as well. Crotch ropes, running from her belly button to the ankle/gag strap tether, back down and under the hog-tie line, up again to the gag line, and down between her legs to the front of the waist ropes made for some very arduous and fitful flexing. Except for the black-nylon panties, she was naked.

�Time to meet your house guest,� said I to Love, while opening Haley�s door and waltzing us into the moment. �Tanya, meet Gail. Gail, Tanya.�

Love�s fingers fanned out and made two, tight fists. �Woh!� The video visual added its two cents to the mix as well. �How hot is that?�

Haley looked up at her, wide-eyed. �Muh.� �Who�s me?�

I addressed my first line to both of them. �This is what happens to naughty girls who don�t show me the money.� While the visual sunk in, I parallel bound Love�s legs together at the ankles and lower thighs, sat her on the corner of the mattress, and tied the leash to the bedpost, with about a foot of slack. �Think on that while I�m gone.�

Brenda was also doing a lot of thinking. Only hers had more to do with accepting a big money offer from a very generous, Far East admirer than giving a cash tip to her trainer. I sat on the cushy chair, to her left, watching and waiting for the perfect time to press release Brenda�s possible future. The only sound in the room came from the fireplace. The rush of flames and heat getting sucked up into the chimney, the random sparks, the crackling outbursts of overheated wood, and the occasional caving-in of stressed-out, overburdened logs filled the room with their gentle but violent soundtrack of mesmerizing, visual accompaniment.

�Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?�

 Brenda did not divert her gaze from the fireplace. �Do I look like I need convincing?�

�Frankly, yes.�

�Then take your best shot.�

I glanced over at the delivery container Po Pee supplied for Brenda�s transport. It sat on the hardwood floor, to her right. �You�ll be sealed in that soundproofed box, with nothing but an oxygen bottle and mask for company. But first, you will be bound into a very stringent ball, and stuffed into a leather sack, which will be zipped up and locked.� 

I gave the revelation a few seconds to marinate, during which Brenda leaned forward and took a deep breath. She was obviously enjoying our little chat. �It�ll be dark and claustrophobic in there, and we don�t know exactly how long it will take to drive you to a place where you can be covertly removed from the box and sack. Your life will be in the hands of perfect strangers. When you finally reach air transportation, Po Pee will begin having his kinky way with you, one-on-one, at level nine intensity. You�ve never done a level nine before. Do you think it will be worth the extra twenty-five thousand a month?�

�Every penny of it,� dared Brenda. �Every, off-the-books penny.�

I took a deep breath and got very serious. �You�re smug now. But how willing do you think you�ll be after the first month? Will it have been worth a hundred grand?� She didn�t answer. �You contracted for a minimum of six, didn�t you.�

My recap of Brenda�s impending future was making her cum, only I was not aware of it. �Do I have to listen to this?� She was rocking back and forth now, and struggling pleasurably.

�Don�t you think you owe me more than wise cracks, after all we�ve been through together? I was your first trainer. Did I not make sure, and have since, that every minute of your fun harmonized perfectly with both your tastes and limitations?�

A minute or so of post-spasmodic deliberation passed before she finally turned to face me. �Listen, Chris: how many good years would you estimate I have left? I�ve gone stale as a dominatrix. I haven�t had any fun with it in ages. Know why? Too much of a good thing jaded me. I need to explore the other side of the fence for a while, learn again what it means to be completely dominated, owned, pleasured, whatever. When I come back, I�ll be a better mistress, and six hundred thousand bucks richer. And should I like where I am, perhaps I�ll stay another six months, if he�ll have me. I have an open-ended contract, which only I can break after its time is up. Don�t you think I�ve thought this out a hundred times? Po Pee approached FMF in search of a woman to fulfill his fantasy, as did I to fulfill mine. The arrangement could not be more symbiotic. Besides, you guys are expensive, and I�m broke, and still haven�t found Mr. Goodbar. Know what I mean?� She again turned to face the fire and allow her rationale to make its point.

I stood to leave the room, and Brenda to my thoughts on the matter. �Be back in ten, I hope.�


I stopped. �What?�

�Thanks. I appreciate your concern. Now let�s get on with it. I�m not getting any younger.�

After binding Brenda into a ball, and stuffing her into the bag, I carried Love into the living room, where I positioned her in front of the fireplace and tied the tether to one of the four rings in its mantle. Her legs were still bound. Except for the fire�s glow, there was no other light source in the room. The time was 10:10. 

�Say hello to Tanya, Brenda.�

�Hi, Tanya,� greeted Po Pee�s latest wench from inside her bag.

Love�s eyes widened as I stuffed it into and Master locked the 36X22X24 inch box. The only other key was in Po Pees pocket, as was the key to the sack.
I�d removed Love�s gag for some answers. She remained quiet, but extremely animated. I�d not given her a crotch rope since the tiptoe configuration. She was all ears when I plucked my cellular off the mantle and moved to the easy chair.

�Po? What�s the password? Right. Come and get her.�

�Get who?� asked Love, nervously.

I stood and walked to the mantle, replaced the cellular, and took my birthday girl by the shoulders. �That depends.� Our eye contact bristled with mystery.

�Where�s the money?�

�...No,� whispered Love. The slightest hint of a smile indicated she was having the time of her life.

The doorbell chimed out its eight-note announcement. I pulled Love�s lips to mine and kissed her passionately... then abruptly left the room, but not before undoing the leash from its collar. Within seconds, two hooded gents walked in, stared menacingly at Love for several, adrenalin-rushing beats, during which Love got so hot she almost fainted, walked to and picked up the chest by the handles on either side of its metal-strapped and studded appointments, and turned to look at the gorgeous brunette in front of the fireplace.

One of them grabbed his crotch and said, �I�m the mean, nasty kind.�

A loud crackle, and the sound of logs caving further into the fire, made Love jump to escape its sudden heat rush, only to miscalculate the standing difficulty demanded by her heels, whereupon her forward motion sent her hopping helplessly into the room. �Chris?�

The two messengers watched for a few seconds before slowly leaving the house.

I was in Haley�s room, making a phone call. I totally ignored both love�s call and my consort�s presence, which, of course, drove them both crazy. 


�Yo, Breck, it�s Chris... Couldn�t be better. They just picked her up. She didn�t bat an eyelash.�

Twelve Minutes Later

Love was on her stomach, on her bed, on top of two pillows, her body stretched out and held fast to the framework with a length of rope that ran from the network between her upper arms, up to and through one of the many decorative holes in the headboard, and back to another at the foot of the bed. The three-eighths-inch thick rope continued back to one of the wrist cinch circles, down between Love�s legs, and up to the waist ropes in front of her, where it ended in a clump of knots. The pillows were under her chest, and there was no slack in the line that bound her to the bed. Each ankle was bound to its corresponding upper thigh.

The door to the room was wide open, and she still wore the wig and sunglasses, giving Love reason to believe she�d be seeing more of Haley, or whomever, before the fix was over. The ball gag still hung from her neck. �Now what?�

The question was soon answered with the sight of Haley, draped over my two outstretched arms, on her back, in the same hog-tie fix Love last saw her in. The weight of her body lessened the tension in the ropes considerably, giving my consort a much-needed breather while in my arms. Two other pillows lay on the floor next to the right side of the bed. I carefully lowered her to them, on her bound arms, legs and head, and affixed a line to the front of the five waist circles. It ran under Love, threaded between her abdomen and the crotch rope. I then tied it to the frame on the other side of the bed, and pulled the pillows out from under the birthday girl, causing the crotch rope pressure to increase considerably. Then I cut the line that ran from Haley�s ankles to the back of the ball gag strap, which I unbuckled. The upper calf hog-tie line still made it impossible to stretch her legs out from under her, forcing my trusty consort to sustain the bowed position.


Haley spit out the ball gag and slowly worked the overworked muscles and such in her neck. �So where�s the teeny-bopper?�

�Guess,� I teased before slowly and carefully removing the pillows out from under Haley�s classic fix. Her crotch rope tightened, as did Love�s. �Perfect.�

�Mmuhuh,� moaned my intensity-level-seven. �Maybe I should have gone with a six.�

I addressed my next line to Love. �Where is it?� The moment glowed with diametric consideration. 

She shook me a �No.� 

�You�ve got five minutes to think on the matter. After that, your hang time will keep doubling until I get what I want.�

�No,� shook Love�s head, defiantly.

�Why are you doing this to me?� asked Haley, in a state of exhaustion and perplexed concern.

�Why are all your credit cards maxed out? If you can convince Tanya to tell me what I want to know, we�ll pay off all your American Express, and throw in an extra ten percent of my tip.�

�What tip?�

�The one Tanya doesn�t want to give me in cash.� With that, I left the room and locked the door.

Of course, there wasn�t any real money to speak of in the house, just the hundred or so in Love�s bag on the bedroom dresser. The six-room place had been rented from For Most Fantasies for the weekend, as were Haley and yours truly. Haley didn�t know that though, and I wasn�t about to tell her until it became blatantly obvious, or her credit card bills had been paid off, whichever came first.

John Roper

  Continues in Part 2

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum

29.09.03  15.06.06

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!

story continues in