The Johnson Rope Factory 2a: The Nice Conclusion

by Jackie Rabbit

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© Copyright 2016 - Jackie Rabbit - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; D/s; captive; bond; rope; spool; factory; transport; submission; femdom; enslave; cons; X

story continued from part one

Part 2a: The Nice Conclusion

The truck's engine then shut off and a second later I heard the driver's door slam, telling me the driver was getting out. Would he discover me trapped and spooled up as I was, or just get what he wanted and leave while I hid? I assumed Ms. Becket was doing much the same, but her absence left me feeling abandoned and vulnerable.

"It's this one over here" I heard Ms. Becket bark sharply to I presumed the driver of the truck, my need for the gag now fully understood, as was I thought her betrayal.

"Yes ma'am. Here's the bag you told me to bring by the way. Do they have a big enough forklift to move the spool?" I heard the driver ask next, I horrified at the only conclusion I was able to draw.

"Several, but it looks like they're set up to use the bridge crane instead. The control pendant is hanging right next to the hook, most decent of them to make this so easy for us don't you think?" I heard my captor ask her truck driving accomplice rhetorically.

I heard the big electric motors on the crane come to life a few minutes later, it louder than one might think in the silent factory on this very early Saturday morning. I then found myself face to face with the easy to underestimate Ms. Becket, she smiling and gloating just a little at her easily won prize. At her feet was a wide roll of shrink wrapping, I suspecting it was what she was off searching for when the truck backed up to the door.

"There is of course no other way to verify that you are safely spooled for shipping as we agreed, other than to actually ship you somewhere, after we tail off this little contaminated sample of product and properly shrink wrap it that is" Mr. Becket offered sarcastically. I now doubted that she was any kind of government inspector, I never asking for or seeing any kind of badge or other official identification, assuming instead that my superiors already had. A Becket was after all a kind of knot, but the irony of such a fictitious name for a rope factory inspector didn't amuse me at the moment.

My captor cut my spool free from the master spool while holding tension on the loose end, she then wrapping and cinching it off tight to the spool itself. I already wasn't going anywhere she didn't want me to, (both figuratively and literally) my tormented orgasm was proof of that, but that apparently still wasn't enough. She then pulled some of the industrial strength plastic wrap off of the spool and started it off below my feet, causing it to bite to itself as it was designed to do. Then in a dizzying procession she walked around my bound form pulling fairly hard on the wrap and making me feel as if I were held in the coils of a giant boa constrictor.

It was a fair comparison, the woman a stealthy snake luring me into a foolish trap of my own design, closing the trap slowly with my foolish cooperation. Even worse, she had tormented me once captured for nothing but her own enjoyment, playing with my helpless body in a most cruel and sadistic way to demonstrate the totality of her victory over me. I was nothing but a bound toy, her toy.

She was good, but not perfect, had our positions been reversed I would have set the giant spool to rotate slowly as the men in shipping did when packaging up a bulk order, instead of making myself dizzy while walking around it with a roll of shrink wrap in my hands. In the big scheme of things such tiny details didn't matter all that much though, I was still trapped.

My captor stopped wrapping at my breasts, whether that was because she couldn't reach any higher while still walking around my spool, or because she didn't want to suffocate me just yet I wasn't sure. She saw the fear in my eyes though as there was no hiding that. I could easily think of better ways to go other than being helplessly bound while forced to rebreathe my womanly aromas until there was no more oxygen to be found beneath the plastic wrap, but probably none any more ironic for one in my line of business with my particular kinks.

"Oh, no worries my little captive" the snake offered, as if she could hear my silent fears. "At least until that day that you stop amusing me, or the day my fertile imagination runs out of ideas for things that I might like to try out on someone."

If my captor was to be believed I might actually survive this little horror in the short term, only to become her sadistic plaything after my shipment to who knows where. At least if I played at being an amusing captive I might survive long enough to escape her, if she were foolish enough to make a mistake that I could capitalize on.


As the crane's massive mechanism walked ever closer to my bound form my terror built, I couldn't believe this was really happening. It was as if one of my beloved machines were stalking and hunting me, but I powerless to run away from it as I so desperately wanted. I watched my captor at the same time pack all my personal belongings into a common garbage bag, my dress at the bottom of the pile under my heels and pocketbook, and likely getting wrinkled to death. It was of course the very least of my problems, but it was a very nice dress.

My own slip was then rolled up and used to blindfold me, I once again providing for my own demise most cruelly. What was this woman's game I wondered? Industrial spy sent to capture a large sample of fresh product after her guided tour of the facility, and I throwing myself in with the deal for free. Or was she a sadistic lunatic with a lust for rope on the hunt for a play toy/victim, and I foolish enough to allow myself to be wrapped for delivery along with a lifetime supply of rope to practice with?

I eventually heard the stalking crane directly overhead, it about to do whatever it wanted with me as I went along passively for the ride. The hook was brought down, the clumsy operator bumping the shaft I was straddling and making it sting my entire body with it's metal on metal contact. There was an eye on the end of the spool for lifting, and once I felt the hook engage it I was hoisted high into the air like nothing more than an inanimate object stuck in a viable product. I felt my spool swing dangerously like a pendulum on my trip to the waiting truck, frightened that my spool and I might fall with the man's inexpert crane work, my blindfold magnifying my terror. Could anybody be that bad with a crane, even in this low light, or was the unknown operator simply toying with me?

I eventually bumped down on what I presumed was the deck of the truck I heard back in earlier, the man then tasked with causing the massive spool to lay over horizontally in a controlled fall so it could be strapped to the deck of the truck for transport. When I had seen the loading dock men do this they made it look easy, but now I was intimately attached to this simple operation's success, and blindly hoping this man was up to the challenge.

Either though skill or blind luck my spool and I were laid over easily, I hanging under my now horizontal spool though as my body’s weight had balanced the spool to end up there. My spool was next rolled toward the front of the truck though, I going along for the tumbling ride like clothes in the washing machine.

I next both felt and heard the spool being strapped down, the trucks door slam, and the truck start and take me out of the building into the night. It was a horrifying situation, but erotically so all at the same time, this kidnapping an almost apex fantasy realized. This was dominance and control at a level I had only ever fantasized about before, and as a result there was an unreal feel to all of it.

It had to be a dream, there was no other rational explanation, but I knew there was one full proof way for me to know for sure as I heard the truck driver shift up through the gears. I had driven out this way countless times, and I was following along in my head as the truck was driven across the facility. All trucks and employees left by the same path, itself a different path from the entrance one everybody had to use, and there was an unwelcome surprise waiting there for any unsuspecting driver especially hard to see at night.

"Wait for it" I told myself, thinking I were about to wake from my most erotic dream ever...

Instead the truck's front axle eventually smashed into the inverted speed bump the owners had placed at the entrance to the public roadway after numerous complaints about the trucks not coming to a full stop first. It felt as if the entire front of the truck leaped into the air, the noise horrible, but the bump nearly knocking the wind out of me as the shaft I was straddling bumped me up and down violently. This horror was therefore real, and I zoned out in my rope cocoon with my intentions of following along to know where I was going forgotten. The small part of me not covered would be difficult to see positioned as I felt like I was on the back of the truck even in the daylight, but at night I was just another bulk shipment out for delivery...

...How much time had passed I don't know, but the truck's back up beeper woke me from my trance as if an alarm clock, but I knew it wasn't. The change in the truck's sound told me we were backing inside another building, (this one large and empty), the engine shutting down, and the door once again slamming. The unloading was handled efficiently enough, I once again standing upright in what I presumed might be my strange new home. The truck then left, but it didn't feel like we were alone.

"Don't you dare scream if you know what's good for you my little pet" the familiar voice warned in my ear menacingly, or at least while trying to. Her tone was different now, but why I would have to wait just a little longer to find out. My captor then ungagged me and held a water bottle to my lips for me to blindly drink from. Was it poison, I wondered? Likely not, if she had meant to do me in she already could have in a dozen different ways, and I was grateful as my mouth was impossibly dry from the wicking effect of my panties.

I drank my fill, ever cognoscente of my total dependence on my captor.

"Thank you" I croaked sincerely.

"Were you surprised?" she asked in an odd, but hushed tone. I responding in kind with her warning, odd tone or not.

"Excuse me?" I asked softly, I clearly missing out on something.

"I was told this was to be a total surprise for you, but I didn't believe it. You played along so well I just thought you HAD to be in on it though, that somebody had to have spilled the beans. You responded without the slightest resistance, what was I to think? Not that I'm complaining either way, how many times does one get to mix business with pleasure, and I very much enjoyed this power I had over you either way, even if just briefly, although I hope that it isn't."

"Would you please tell me what you’re talking about ma'am."

"OK, but first things first, you must promise not to be mad, but don't forget either that we've already agreed that you’re mine to do whatever I like with."

"So why would it matter if I was mad at you or not?" I asked, this young woman sounding like she were loosing her mind.

"I will answer all of your questions, but first you must loudly and clearly promise that you won't ever will get mad at me, or anybody else involved in this. You must also tell me clearly how much you enjoyed this little game, so much so that you had an orgasm while playing with me, and how grateful you are for this opportunity with me. And lastly, you must tell us that you have consented to all of this, that this was just a playful kinky little game between consenting adults for the pleasure of the moment."

"What if I don't?" I asked my sadistic captor, clearly knowing I was missing something here.

"In that case my little pet" my captor whispered in my ear as if for my ears alone, (telling me we really weren't alone if I had thought about her choice of words), "I'll make you wish you had!"

"...I promise not to ever get mad at you, or anybody else, and that I had the cum of my life while consensually playing at our kinky game to prove Johnson's rope's safety and comfort" I said in the same hushed tone.

"LOUDER" she commanded. "And don't forget the 'your mine to do with whatever I want part', that's actually quite important to me."

I repeated what she had wanted much louder this time, just knowing I was once again being made to perform for her, and quite likely others. There was a power dynamic going on here, I was bound and helpless, and blindfolded, but I had freely called her ma'am, an honorific title for a woman in a position of power above ones own. It wasn't the first time either, and she seemed to relish this honor, I could even hear the smile on her face with my use of it. If her bold confidence had wavered ever so slightly when she had first ungagged me it was only for a few moments, my "ma'am" telling her all she needed about her place in our collective social order.

"Did you get that this time?" My captor asked, but the question obviously wasn't directed at myself.

"Um hum" an unknown male voice answered. Was it the driver, or somebody else, or even a group of unknowns?

"A week from this Monday then?" she asked.

"Um hum" that same impossible to recognize answer, meaning I might know this man, and he trying to keep his identity secret.

And what was going to happen a week from this Monday anyway? Were I to be this crazy woman's captive until then, or was that to be the date of my last breath? If she were crazy she had company, and her tone implied that what was to happen was sanctioned by this mysterious man, I assumed him to be in charge then and certainly not the truck driver.

I then listened to a single pair of leather shoes walk from the area while trying to be quiet, an entry door being closed lightly, and a heavy car door closing, followed by the sounds of it driving away. We were then alone in a building that felt big and empty, and I in the company of a captor that felt slightly less terrifying. I however still had more questions than answers though.

"Ma'am?" I asked.

"Yes my pet."

"You promised to answer all of my questions if I admitted to you and whoever that was with us that I had consented to and enjoyed this little game."

"And that you’re mine to do with as I please as I remember, or that you would cooperate with my plans no matter what, I don't remember exactly how I had phrased it."

"I believe that I may have agreed to both ma'am, but that was under duress" I pointed out.

"Neither of us are lawyers though, I'm actually an engineering graduate looking for a job, actually I'm not looking any longer as I start my new position next Monday, all thanks to you I might add. It's a long story, but I'll give you the abridged version as I have some other things I want to go over with you before you get too sore hanging there on display for me."

"I feel fine, except for my buds."

"I would say I was sorry about that, but that would be a lie. It was just too good an opportunity to pass up, and the sting helped to overload your senses and helped to drive you over the top, it's just the way some of us are wired." My captor then freed my tortured nubs from their rope bondage, the feeling awful when the blood freely rushed back into them once again.

"That story I told you about being bound and not able to escape my college mates rope work was entirely true, but just from a slightly different point of view. I was the one doing the binding, and it was then that I rediscovered once again my love of rope, and power, and all one can do with both.

The economy is crap, most especially for a recent grad, and it's hard to be powerful when grovelling for a chance to prove oneself in a new career with student loans to pay. I sent out literally hundreds of resumes with just a few responses, Johnson rope one of the few businesses looking to expand into new markets. I love rope, and I told Mr. Johnson and the board that, he then telling me about you, and even confiding in me your not so secret rope play with the men on the assembly floor, as well as your late night solo excursions to bump and grind with the machines.

They knew all of it, but they weren't angry, more amused if anything. It seemed to me that they were willing to allow a great latitude in order to retain your services, and no matter what they didn't want to make you angry. Mr. Johnson told me he knew whoever he hired on for this new project must be able to adapt to your rather unique kinks, and here I came up with a rather bold plan that was at the same time near and dear to my heart..."

"Ma'am, was this your final job interview, and was that Mr. Randolph Johnson Sr. here with us?"

"You were my job fitness evaluation, the board knew we would have to work together to make this new venture a success. As to who was here with us, I have promised to keep that confidential, but sufficient to say that I have the backing of some very senior people here at Johnson, as do you by the way."

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Where are we ma'am" my captor corrected.

"Where are we ma'am?"

"Physically we are in an abandoned building in the industrial district not very far away from the factory, metaphorically we are at a crossroads. We can build something wonderful here, not only a new product line, but something else as well, it's all up to you. After I release you it would be easy for you to march straight into the front office Monday morning and quit, or demand that I be fired before my first day, or even go to the authorities if you didn't mind shutting down the company and putting all those men out of work. Either wouldn't be good for the company, but easy to understand IF you didn't have the time of your life here with me, however I think you did.

You could also demand I cut you down right now and make me switch places with you so you can exact any retribution you may wish, also understandable if I have judged your desires wrongly. That to me would be a left turn, but I would willingly do so even though such submission would be unnatural for me. You are sufficiently creative that you could easily find countless and sadistic ways to torment me, and after your eventually done with me you still could go into the front office and get me fired. Another easy choice, IF I have wronged you, and in that case I would be deserving of the worst you could dish out."

"And the last choice ma'am?" I asked.

"Simply stated, a right turn, the easiest of all to make at any crossroad. I don't know where that road less travelled will lead, other than we will have to work together to build this new automated line. You already have a short preview of what it might look like to be under my authority, and I'm game if you are, but there will be certain rules that have to be established first..."

..."Ma'am, I've made my choice" I told my captor, whose name actually was Ms. Becket despite my earlier skepticism.

"I had already gathered that my pet, but don't you want to hear the rules first."

"No ma'am."

Story also has a 'Not So Nice' Conclusion here: Part 2b: The Not So Nice short conclusion

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