AUTHOR’S NOTE: I wish I could say this was based on a true story, but that would be a bigger piece of fiction than everything that follows. This is, however, a fictionalized version of an encounter I think just about any writer of bondage stories would like to experience. And, who knows? Maybe a few fans, too.
Maria examined her reflection with a critical eye. She’d decided to go for simple today, and the light summer dress, held up by a pair of tied shoulder straps, seemed to fit the bill. Still, she didn’t want to look too simple. This time, she absolutely must make a perfect first impression. After all, a chance like this didn’t come along just every day.
An avid reader of bondage fiction, Maria had amassed a rather large library of bookmarks on her computer of stories she’d found online. Many of those stories were by a writer she know only by his pen name, Steel Shadow. Recently, she’d used her computer skills to track this writer down, only to learn, much to her surprise, that he lived right in her very own home town. Who would ever have thought?
Once she located him, the hardest thing had been to overcome her own nerves in order to make contact. He had, perhaps understandably, been reluctant, but she had finally talked him into meeting her at her house. Tonight was the night, and everything had to be perfect.
The sound of her doorbell interrupted Maria’s thoughts, making her realize just how long she’d stood before the mirror daydreaming. With no time to make any changes, she slipped her feet into a comfortable pair of sandals and rushed to the front of her house. Pausing to catch her breath, she swung open the door.
Her first thought, gazing at her guest, was that he seemed a bit older than she’d imagined from his stories. Standing in the fading light of sunset, he seemed average enough. Maybe not exactly handsome, she thought with a bit of disappointment, but definitely not ugly. Then, seeing his slight smile, she blushed hotly, realizing she’d been staring.
“Um, good evening Mr. Shadow.”
“Call me Jake.”
He smiled again. “Is Maria going to ask me in,” he asked, “or are we going to do our talking here?”
Blushing again, Maria stepped back, gesturing for him to enter. Closing the door, she guided him to the most comfortable chair in her living room, then perched on the edge of the couch, their knees almost touching.
“Ok, Maria,” Jake said, “you obviously went to some length to find me. The question now is, why?”
“Your stories,” Maria replied, amazed at just how nervous she felt with the truth about to come out. Amazed, and excited.
“What about my stories?”
“Well, your stories are…..” Maria faltered, trying to find the right words without appearing too eager.
“Well, they’re….I mean your stories are….well, they’re just amazing!”
Jake smiled again. “I thank you for that,” he said, “but you could have told me that with a simple email. There was no need to go to all the effort of setting up a personal meeting.”
“But your stories are so real,” Maria insisted. “The women, the things that happen to them, the things they feel. Every time I read one, I can see myself doing the things those women do. I can feel what they’re feeling. At least, I can imagine those feelings. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you had to meet me in person,” Jake pointed out. Maria couldn’t believe he wasn’t hearing what she was trying so desperately to say. Or maybe, she suddenly thought, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Maybe he was doing this to make her actually say the words.
“Because,” she said, slowly rising to her feet, “I want to actually feel those things, not just imagine them.” Carefully, as if afraid any sudden move would make her guest vanish before her eyes, Maria reached up and undid the knots holding her shoulder straps together. Eyes locked on his, she let the dress fall to the floor, revealing that she wore nothing underneath. Kicking off her sandals, she lifted her feet from the material pooled around her ankles, moving to stand directly in front of him.
“I want you to bind me,” she said, “just like the women in your stories. I want to be helpless and horny, and not be able to do anything about it. I want to feel arousal, feel orgasms, that are totally out of my own control.” Maria’s voice turned pleading. “Please, don’t say no. I have everything you need. I’ve been collecting things for months now, hoping for this.”
Jake frowned. “Maria,” he said softly, “I’m flattered. And honored, that you would ask me. But what you want isn’t a good idea.”
“Because,” he said patiently, “you don’t know me. All you know are the words of the stories I write.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“No,” he replied, “it’s not. Do you know what the single most important aspect of any bondage scene is?”
“Um,” Maria said, totally at a loss now, “good rope?”
“Trust.” Jake openly eyed her naked body, and Maria felt herself flush under his gaze. “You’re a very attractive woman,” he said at last, “and I don’t doubt it would be a lot of fun binding you. But you know nothing at all about me as a person. Which means you have no idea whether or not you can really trust me. Trust me to keep you safe, to protect you, and to not do things to you that you wouldn’t want.”
“I know I can trust you,” Maria insisted. “The men in your stories, even the bad ones, would never harm someone willing.”
“The men in my stories,” he said, “aren’t me.”
“But they are,” she argued. “They come from your mind, your imagination. You created them, and they’re part of you. You’re an artist, can’t you see that? You take an idea and create something amazing.” Staring at him intently, she pleaded, “Please, make me your next creation.”
For long moments, he simply looked at her, and Maria felt a sudden, terrible fear that he was going to get up and walk out. Finally, after what seemed an eternity to her, he shook his head.
“What have you collected,” he asked. Thrilled that he hadn’t said no, Maria rushed to her room, returning with a rather large cardboard box filled with the bondage gear she’d amassed.
“Stand there,” he told her, examining the contents of the box, “facing away from me.” Eagerly, she moved to stand as instructed.
“Once the first bond is applied,” she heard him say, “you give up any say in what happens next. You do realized that, right?”
Maria nodded emphatically. “I know,” she replied, “and whatever you do is fine with me.”
For a moment, there was silence, and Maria felt her nervousness growing as she wondered what would happen next. She felt him grasp her hands gently, drawing them behind her. Something encircled her wrists, and she recognized the feel of leather cuffs. There was a click, and her wrists were joined together.
Bound! Maria couldn’t believe the feelings that rushed through her just from this first taste of helplessness. She could feel her nipples hardening; feel the dampness forming between her thighs. Something slipped over her eyes, blocking out her sight, and she felt her breath catch at another rush of excitement.
“Open.” Eagerly, Maria parted her lips, feeling the penis shape of her favorite gag slip into her mouth. As she felt the straps draw snug, she was amazed at just how easily she thought she might cum from a single touch. Nearly as amazed as she was to realize just how much she wanted him to touch her.
“Now,” she heard, “explore your situation. But do not move from that spot.” She felt him move away from her, leaving her alone in her blind helplessness. Tentatively, then with growing energy, she tugged at her bonds, quickly realizing that, even though her legs were still free, she was now totally helpless, totally in his control. The thought excited her more than she could ever have dreamed. His hand grasping her arm brought her mind out of the whirl she found herself in.
“This way.” Blindly, she followed the pull on her arm, shuffling across the room. She felt linoleum under her feet, realizing they’d entered the kitchen. A few more steps, and she heard a door open. Another soft tug, and she felt steps beneath her bare feet.
The garage, she realized, startled. Why would he bring me here? She knew a lot of his stories took place in unusual settings, but she’d somehow hoped he would have led her to her bedroom. Instead, she felt the cold concrete of her garage floor as he stopped and turned her. A slight backward nudge, and she felt cold metal against the backs of her legs. A muffled thumping sound came from behind her.
A firm shove, and Maria fell backwards into what she suddenly realized was the trunk of her own car. Jake’s hands guided her, ignoring her sudden struggles. Firmly, he curled her onto the floor of the trunk, then quickly placed leather cuffs around her ankles. A slight click, and, suddenly, Maria couldn’t separate her feet.
“Is this what you had in mind? I hope you’re enjoying it.” A sudden banging sound made her jump, realizing he had just closed the trunk lid, locking her helpless body within. Terrified, she struggled, screaming into her gag, but her bonds were too secure, while only muffled grunts emerged from behind the panel over her mouth.
Defeated, Maria slumped, barely moving when she heard the car door open, then close. Seconds later, the engine started, followed by the sound of her garage door opener.
With a slight lurch, the car started moving. She could hear the rock of her driveway beneath the tires, the sound fading as Jake backed onto the street. The car paused, then began moving in the other direction.
Lying helpless in her own trunk, Maria could only imagine what lay in store for her. Remembering his words, she cursed herself silently. She had believe in him, believed in the persona she had created for him from his stories. She had trusted that persona, and now that trust had led her here. Naked, bound hand and foot, gagged, blindfolded, and locked in the trunk of her own car as he drove her she had no idea where.
Her previous excitement long gone, she could only lie in helpless fear. What had she gotten herself into? Where would it lead her? The final thought, coming unbidden, multiplied her terror.
Would she survive?
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story continues in A Matter of Trust 2