Convoluted Knots

by Philber

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© Copyright 2014 - Philber - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; yacht; mast; neoprene; wetsuit; waders; gag; bfold; bond; rope; harness; hood; trick; revenge; payback; did; ocean; water; torment; cons/nc; XX

Luke was unlike most of his fellow college students. While he studied hard, he also needed his time outdoors, and doing sports. He particularly enjoyed sailing, and rock climbing, and it was not easy to find a college where he could practice both, but he did.

One day Luke got a visit from his dorm buddy Mike. But Mike seemed embarrassed. "Luke, I need to ask you something, but I can't tell you why. With all that sailing and climbing you do, you must be pretty good with knots, right? Do you think you could teach me how to tie a couple of proper knots?"

"Sure, Mike. Just tell me what you need them for, and I will show you the best ones for your needs. So, what'll it be?"

Luke was very surprised to see Mike, who was known as quite a ladies' man, almost tongue-tied.

"I already said I couldn't tell you why, Luke!"

"That's like going to the doctor and expecting a diagnosis without telling him what's wrong, Mike. There are dozens of types of very different knots, just among the ones I know, and hundreds more that I don't know. Some are made to be very strong, other are slipknots, the very opposite. It also depends what type of rope you are using and other factors. So what's keeping you from telling me what it's all about?"

"Well, frankly, it's embarrassing, Luke. And it's not only me, it involves someone else."

"Aha, someone else? Knowing you, a lady, no doubt! What would courting a lady have to do with tying knots? You know that that expression for marriage is a metaphor, right?"

"Look, Luke, I just can't seem to talk about it. Let's do this: why don't I ask her to meet you and tell you about it herself? Her name is Joanna. Can I give her your phone number?"

"Sure, Mike!"

Just a few minutes later, Luke's phone rang, and a feminine voice introduced herself as Joanna. She didn't waste time telling him what it was about. It was sex. She liked sex tied up, and was into Mike. Except, when she mentioned it to him, he said he saw no objection, he could even be interested, except he had no idea how to tie up a girl. So she suggested he ask someone who knew ropes and knots, and was a friend who would understand. That is what led to the failed conversation, and now she had to ask Luke, would he teach Mike to tie her up? Actually, she was a fairly good sailor, so she knew about knots herself, but teaching her boyfriend what to do to her was not what she was into. She wanted something done to her without her own help.

"Look Joanna, I have to say, I have no experience. I could probably do it, but first you'd have to convince me that it is not a crazy joke, or something illegal..."

"Fair point, Luke, we don't know each other. Let me send you a couple of pics of myself in bondage, that way you can not only I am for real! I'll send you my number as well, so that you can call me back"

Within minutes, a more than puzzled Luke got a couple of pictures on his cellphone. In one, a girl in only her underwear, standing with her back to a post somewhere out in the open, and kept there by handcuffs that linked her wrists behind her back and around the post. A blindfold and gag, completed the scene. In the other, the same girl, or so it seemed, was tied on the floor, hands and elbows tightly together in her back, legs tied at ankles and knees. Again, a blindfold and gag.

Now Luke was not a completely foreign to the fact that some people played bondage games to spice up their sex life. He had just never considered it for himself, nor had any of his partners requested or suggested it.

He called Joanna back. What exactly did she have in mind?

"Well, my "thing" is a scene called "damsel in distress". I am completely helpless, and anything may happen. Could you do that to me?"

"Sure I could, if I tied you up, you wouldn't be getting free on your own. Question is, what if something unexpected happens? Which is why the tying up is not for real, I guess..."

"No, you're wrong, it must be totally inescapable, or else it is no fun. Besides, nothing can happen, because you know your ropes, and Mike will be there."

"Totally inescapable? It seems to me you already achieved that with handcuffs, haven't you? People can't get out of handcuffs, and I am sure Mike can put them on you even without experience. Why, I am sure you could do that yourself, so why the need for knots?"

"Well, I would like to live out one of my fantasies, and be tied up to the mast of a sailing boat. I own one so that is not an issue, but it is the tying up that has held us back so far. You see, I need not only to be tied up for real, but, for my fantasy to play out at full bore, I need to know and feel that there is no way I can get free. Yet Mike needs to be able to release me eventually, and it should be done carefully so that the ropes don't cut off circulation, even if I am kept tied up for hours."

"OK, I give up, I'll stop guessing, just tell me what you want."

"What I have in mind is this. I am cruising alone on board the boat. As there are some waves, I have donned my waterproof overall, and that is when out of nowhere, someone, a strong guy, manages to board the boat without my noticing, and ties me to the mast, blindfolds me and gags me. Then just as mysteriously as he got on, he gets off board, leaving me helpless on the wayward boat. Then at some point, Mike takes command, of course."

"Wow! And you want this to be totally realistic? OK, then I guess I can do it. Just let me know when you intend to go out sailing, and I will do the rest. Just, so that there is no mistake, I don't want to use violence against you. Once you are in the agreed area, you will blindfold and gag yourself, and you will stand with your back to the mast like that. That way I can take a picture of you and exonerate myself, should this be some kind of sick trap. Deal?"

"Deal! But what about Mike? Will he be with you?"

"According to your desire, you will be a damsel in distress. Those don't get to ask too many questions, right?"

Joanna was about to argue and press her point, but thought better of it. Luke was right. She would be in no position to force answers out of him. So she kept her mouth shut and soon ended the conversation.

A couple of weeks later, she called Luke and asked if the next Saturday afternoon would be convenient. The weather forecast was middling. No storm of course, but no risk of too little wind either, and possibly some rain, so her wearing her waterproof overall would only look natural. As soon as Joanna put the phone down from talking to Luke, she realized she already had butterflies in her stomach. It was always like that. A session started not when the action began but when an agreement was reached and a date, time and place set.

So it was with some trepidation that she set foot on her boat, and, after preparations, sailed her out of the marina. Soon she was out in the open sea, and she rolled with the long waves. At that point Joanna felt ready. She tied the wheel down so that the boat wouldn't need steering, and went down to her cabin to change. Putting on first a full wet suit, with neoprene booties and gloves, because it might easily get cold if she had to endure bondage for a prolonged period, then donning over it a rain-proof overall, which was a thrill, because it activated two of Joanna' fetishes. One was enclosure and the other one plastic. So, quickly, she jumped into boots. She had chosen chest-high waders, not that they were needed on a boat, but they just felt so intense rubbing on her overalls and her wet suit. Then gloves completed her sailing outfit, and she rose back to the deck, with the agreed gag and blindfold in hand.

She checked that the sails were set properly, and that, with the wheel tied down the way it was, the boat was on a fairly steady course that wouldn't require a skipper, and moved to the mast. Feeling both very vulnerable, and somewhat foolish, she grabbed her gag, inserted the rubber ball in her mouth, and strapped it fairly tightly. It wasn't maximum strength, because she didn't know how long she would be left that way. Last step, she slipped her blindfold around her eyes, and strapped it in place. She then placed her hands, as agreed, in her back around the mast, and began to wonder how long she would have to wait in that position.

The answer was: not at all. As soon as she put her gloved wrists behind her, they were grabbed by strong hands, and before she could get over her surprise and fright, tight ropes encircled them. On instinct, even though this had been agreed to, she fought back, and tried to pull herself free. But her captor knew what he was doing: her wrists had been crossed and tied, and the ropes cinched. She knew there and then that she wouldn't be able to pull free. But before she recovered from that first onslaught, she felt ropes encircle her elbows, and soon they also were tied tightly behind her, and, this time, also to the mast, to which they welded her torso. Joanna fought back, or tried to. But with her arms tightly tied behind her, there was very little she could do, except pull on her legs to try and break free. Except her heavy gear and ungainly boots didn't exactly help, nor did the gag and blindfold that prevented her from easy breathing and from seeing who was do this to her.

Joanna was in shock. She had expected some kind of wait, and an almost friendly Luke to materialize and gently but hopefully firmly tie her up. This was not what she was getting, and she resisted what to her was a genuine aggression. But she was already far too restrained to be able to achieve anything except exert and exhaust herself, and it didn't feel like she was having any impact at all on her attacker. He had grabbed both her knees and slipped a rope around them just below the joint, severely limiting her ability to kick and pull. Almost instantly he tightened the rope, joining her knees inexorably together. She could feel the multiple turns of the ropes circle her limbs, then a couple of cinches.

Even if her arms hadn't been similarly restrained, she was going nowhere. Another rope was soon applied just above her knees, but this one also around the mast, and her legs were now one with it, except her feet, which could still move a few inches. But the relentless attacker took care of that as soon as he was finished with the knees, except he didn't tie her booted ankles together, as she expected. Each ankle was tied to each side of the mast, and cinched there. Obviously he was now done, and Joanna was beginning to relax. After all, Luke was giving her a great thrill.

But it seemed he wasn't done yet. Joanna felt a rope going behind her neck and across her shoulders, then under her armpits, behind the mast and gradually snaking down her torso, welding it to the mast. This harness went down the whole length of her body at some 8 inch intervals, making any movement impossible. Her attacker was taking great pains to make her bindings as thorough as possible. First each ring went around her body, then not just around the mast, but looped around it, then cinched between mast and body, the cinch increasing the tightness, then a vertical cinch with the previous loop, and so on down to her feet. Just as she thought that, having done her entire body, he had to be finished, he started upwards again, but this time also looping her arms into the harness, and cinching both harnesses to each other.

Joanna had never imagined getting tied up as tightly as this. Thanks to her thick clothing, it wasn't painful, nor was there any risk to her circulation, but she was immobilized to a fault. The only parts of her body she could still move were her fingers and her head. Sensing that, her attacker first took what Joanna understood to be sticky tape and gradually bound her hands and fingers into useless fists. No more fingers which could be used to untie knots. He then placed a posture collar around her neck, forcing her head high and immobile. Then forced the wet suit hood on her head on top of the blindfold and gag, ensuring that she couldn't rub them off.

Then he took the hood of her overalls and, similarly, raised it before tightening the drawstring that closed it around her face The final touch was to tie a string to a d-ring on top of her hood, which normally was used to hang the overalls to let them dry, to the mast, removing any possibility she would have had to move her head. The two hoods also removed any possibility for her to rub her blindfold and/or her gag off her face. She was now 100% immobile. Not only tied up, and tied down, but reduced to total passivity.

Just as she took this in, she felt no more actions from her captor, a very sudden change from his up to now relentless rhythm. But no, nothing. There had to be something, he hadn't done all this without preparation, without quite some experience. Who was he? What would he do to her? But the sound of the wind and the swell of the waves left her questions unanswered.

Could it be that she was now alone on an otherwise abandoned boat headed straight out to the ocean? How could she get free and get back to land and safety? Joanna screamed into her gag. Being a damsel in true distress was not the same as her fantasy. She pulled on her bindings, twisted this way and that, but got nowhere. Too many ropes, each knotted, wound, cinched, forming a complete web of restriction. She couldn't move at all. It was her powerlessness that got to her, nobody to negotiate with, no hope of escaping such careful and tight restraints, and not even the hope that someone might spot her and come to the rescue, she shook with a mixture of anger and desperation, but to no more avail than her previous attempts.

She wasn't powerless in the face of a playful partner, she was just like a growth to the mast, and mattered no more than one. How long was this trip to hell going to last? Then she remembered. When a pirate captain was captured, either he was put to death, which was the merciful option, or he was tightly tied to his ship's mast, and left to die of hunger, and thirst and exposure to the sun, as the ship took him on her senseless course. Was that going to be her fate? She struggled, and struggled, and struggled. She pulled one way, pulled the other. Nothing budged. It was like she was welded or glued to the mast.

Whatever she had done to get free had failed. Not only failed, but totally failed. Not one knot had slipped, there was no more play in her bonds than when Luke had tied her up. He knew his stuff well indeed, and she was going nowhere. She could only hope that Mike would materialize, and her hare-brained scenario would unfold happily. Never had she felt so helpless. At the same time, she noticed that she was feeling not only hot under her layers of clothes and rope, but also seriously wet.

Just as she was focusing on that pleasant feeling, a voice startled her. Luke's, or Mike's? Someone else's? It was Mike. Great! Relief washed over her. And anticipation of a hot scene. She has trouble hearing what Mike was saying, as her ears were covered by two hoods, but, as he spoke very close to her head, just to make sure. "Well, darling, it seems that Luke has done his job well. He should, considering his reputation and the hefty price I paid him to do it. Did you know he is one of the best riggers in the BDSM scene? No, stupid of me, how could you? He knows who you are, but you don't know who he is. You sent him your pics, but you never met him, at least not before know, when your blindfold prevented you from seeing him or knowing what he looks like."

Joanna had no idea what Mike was talking about, but, somehow, she had the awful feeling that he was speaking the truth. She had been too well tied up for it to be other than a highly experienced rigger. How? Why? She tried to speak, but the gag was just too large to allow her to form any words.

"Well, baby, I guess it is time to let you know what the situation is. You see, when I get into a serious relationship, one which could develop into something more, I do a bit of research. And I did this with you too. Guess what I found? A woman who makes her money by dating rich guys, claiming to be a bondage freak, getting them to tie her up and treat her roughly, of course saying all along that this is what she wants. And then once the session is over, she rushes off to a friendly lawyer to press charges of assault against the hapless boyfriend. Who, faced with the prospect of years in jail, agrees to settle for a tidy sum, and never discuss this ever after. At which point you are free to start all over again with the next guy."

Joanna was dumbfounded. Mike knew all along! Instead of falling blindly into her trap, he had been a step ahead of her, and she had fallen into his. That is when she realized that her powerlessness was no longer a game, but a very real and dangerous situation. She tried everything she could to get free, or at least talk to Mike, to defend herself, to tell him that she loved him, that he was different, to remind him of the good times and great sex. No way, Luke, the BDSM expert, had made sure of that. She couldn't move, or speak. She was reduced to total helplessness.

"So, you see, baby, when I found this out, I got in touch with 5 of your former victims, and, together we decided what we would do with you. We reached a quick consensus that the punishment should fit the crime. You fooled all of us into thinking that tying you up was doing you a favor. Now we fooled you into thinking that getting tied up would do you a favor."

"So what happens now? You realize, of course, I can do anything with you, and I will. The only question is: what? Do I untie you from the mast, but keep you tied up, and sell you to slave traders? Do I sell you to the producer of snuff movies? Or do I just strangle you here and now? Ah, your struggles and cries are gaining in intensity, so maybe you are getting more worried, even desperate?"

"No point in letting you wonder and search frantically for the answer. But, when you know, you might wish that you didn't. What we decided is that, as you fleeced more than one victim, you should suffer more than one fate. The first one is this: I will sail your boat right in the middle of the shipping lane, and then before I step off and sail back to port, I will set the autopilot to make your boat go around in circles right in the path of the many large ships heading for or from the harbor. I hope you are lucky, Joanna, and that good radar helps them avoid your boat, and saves you from drowning tied to the mast of your sinking vessel. But nights are dark, and it may well be that the urgent call of a horn is the last sound you hear before the steel bow crushes your boat."

"But, you will ask, why did I mention multiple fates? Well, in 3 days, if the GPS which I have placed on the mast is still beeping, it will mean that you are indeed lucky, and have survived. I will then come and get you, for round n°2. And, before you ask, no, I won't disclose what that might be. Half the pleasure is the wait, isn't it?"

"In any case, if being a damsel in distress excites you, as you stated so eloquently to all your victims, as well as to Luke and I, you should be thanking me, because, nobody ever was more a damsel in distress than you right now. So, enjoy yourself! Oh, and just because you said you loved it tight, let me enhance your excitement before I exit. And, just to make you pay for my grief and pain when I found out the truth, I will now inflict grief and pain on you. Or rather, I'll let your situation do it to you!"

Joanna, petrified at what Mike had said, suddenly felt hands at the back of her head, untying the string that kept her head tethered to the mast. Mike then took down her two hoods, unbuckling her gag strap, only to re-buckle it 2 notches tighter, eliciting a sudden "mpffff" of pain from her. Joanna felt something slipped over her head, and smelled leather. She felt her head encased in it, as it was gradually tightened by Mike's vengeful hands, until she felt like a vise had her head in its grip, and her breathing through only two noseholes was added to the list of her problems.

But Mike wasn't done yet, far from it. Joanna felt her waist gripped in a vice very much like her head was, until the constriction grew and grew, and her breathing already labored, became shallow. "Yes, a corset, dear Joanna. Not a fancy one like you like to wear, a strict one, that can really reduce your waist, and your breathing ability with it. Don't fight your situation too hard, or you might well run out of air and black out. And, yes, a corset gets more and more uncomfortable with time. In a few hours, I am told, you should feel it keenly".

Then to her surprise, Joanna felt Mike untie her ankles, then her knees, and she could not understand why. Of course, welded to the mast from the waist up, she couldn't achieve anything, but wondered what her aggrieved lover had in mind. She soon found out: more ropes! Another harness, which ran around her corseted waist, her shoulders, and with twin ropes through her crotch. And, while she couldn't see it or feel it, the harness was hooked to cleats on the mast, so that it couldn't slip down. Joanna, was terrified. She was now well aware of Mike's desire for revenge, and of her helplessness. Inside her tight bondage, there was nothing she could do to escape, and her gag prevented any kind of dialog. Besides, what was he doing tying her up more, when she was already trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey?

That is when she felt Mike pull one of her feet away from the deck and raise it until the booted heel was as far up as it would go. She was now resting only one leg, as she felt her other one tied up tightly to the harness Mike had just created. That was not good, having to stand on one foot for many long hours! But that was nothing compared to Mike's real intent, as he grabbed her second one and pulled hard to raise it off the deck as well. A soon as she understood, Joanna resisted, or tried to, as panic welled into her to a higher level, but there was nothing she could do. Her second foot rose off the deck, and her body sagged, only held by its web of ropes. She was now hanging off the mast, one leg on either side of it, and the twin crotch ropes Mike had just put in place held most of the load, and, accordingly, felt like they would split her in two. That was impossible! Mike couldn't leave her like that! There was no way she could survive like this, all the tension, the stress, the pain!

"OK, honey, we are done with ropes, and I hope you will agree that you are now truly the damsel in distress that you said you wanted to be. I will now add a final touch, because you deserve to suffer as you have made other suffer. Until now, you only have to contend with the tightness of your position, and the constricted breathing, but you are warm and dry inside your suit. I am about to change that, because leaving you wet and cold is exactly what I think you deserve. Remember the chest-high waders and attached boots you chose to wear on top of your overall? I will now fill them up with cold seawater until they overflow. And I'll pour some into your overalls and inside your wet suit too, so you are soaking in cold seawater up to your neck. I am told that feeling the cold drain your body heat is exquisite torture, enough to break even the strongest of spirits! And, also so I am told, seawater on human flesh for many hours becomes another form of torture."

In sheer terror, Joanna felt Mike open the top of her overall, then wet-suit, and pour water right down her body that was so cold it made her scream into the ball-gag. It was so cold she could feel its level sink down to her knees, then rise up her raised ankles, up her hips, soak her pussy, up her belly, past her breasts, until it reached neck level. She was soaking wet, and miserably cold. How could Mike do that to her? She felt Mike closing her suits back up again. When would this hell end? Was Mike finally done, and what would become of her?

As she asked herself this question, all of a sudden Joanna felt a splash of water right on her head. Or rather on the leather hood that tightly encased it And another, and yet another. She couldn't see or hear them coming, which made each one terrifying,as she felt it could drown an suffocate her..

"That, dear, is the last straw, the proverbial one that will break the camel's back, as they say. Because each one of your-last minute embellishments is leather, your hood, your collar, your corset. And now, very wet leather. Well, wet leather eventually dries, and, as it does so, it shrinks. So each piece of leather I have fitted you with will shrink. The posture collar, the corset, the hood, will all get tighter and tighter as they dry off. Isn't that a nice final touch? Well, sorry, but I have to dash off, we are getting into dangerous waters now, and you don't really need me here anymore. Let me just fix the autopilot, and, byyyyye!"

The hoods on her wet suit and her plastic overall were then put back in place and her head tethered back to the mast.

And then: nothing! Could it be that Joanna had been left in this incredibly risky and torturous situation? The silence around her was all the answer she needed. Yes, Mike had indeed done this to her. The rich-kid, naive and sweet lover had turned into a fiendishly clever one at extracting the worst possible revenge out of her, and there was nothing she could to avoid it.



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