Melissa's Revenge

by Steve Spandex

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© Copyright 2016 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f; reconcile; drink; drug; passout; bond; rope; poletied; basement; gagged; tease; torment; crotchrope; revenge; stuck; cons/nc; X

(N.B. This is a sequel to my earlier story “Melissa’s Quality Time”, which ideally should be read first)

Melissa peeped through the gap in the curtains, as the sound of a car coming to a halt outside reached her ears. It was getting dark outside now, and the movement-sensitive light in the apartment block’s car park had just activated to reveal the sight of Louisa’s Toyota Yaris pulling up in the space set aside for visitors. Melissa smiled as she watched Louisa open the driver’s door and get out into the gathering gloom of a chilly autumn evening.  “Tonight Louisa” she thought to herself “you’re going to get your come-uppance. And I’m going to take so much pleasure from making you suffer for what you put me through.”

The click-clack of Louisa’s high heels could be heard increasing in volume as the tall, attractive blonde sauntered gracefully across the courtyard. Melissa could tell from Louisa’s attire that she had come here directly from work.  Despite the cold, her beige suit jacket was open, revealing a white, low-cut silk blouse beneath. Her skirt was short and her long slender legs were sheathed in sheer black tights.  Momentarily, Louisa disappeared from Melissa’s view as she neared the building and rounded the corner to the entrance lobby. This lack of visual contact did nothing to stem the sound of her approaching heels, which continued to grow in intensity until, within no more than twenty seconds of Louisa’s form vanishing from the car park, the door bell rang. Melissa, who was already waiting beside the door, took a deep breath, put on a big smile which she hoped wouldn’t seem too false, and opened the door to her visitor.


It had been with more than a little trepidation that Louisa had come here tonight. It was now several months since that Saturday afternoon in the spring when she had stumbled upon Melissa participating in her secret hobby, and had decided to have a bit of fun at her friend’s expense.  Having walked in to find Melissa in the throes of some weird fantasy game that involved handcuffing, binding and gagging herself, Louisa had decided to play along. After all, Melissa was the one who had hog-tied herself to the point where she could only escape with some difficulty, so she must enjoy being left all alone and helpless, mustn’t she?

On the spur of the moment, Louisa had decided to add to her friend’s bonds, whilst also removing the handcuff key from Melissa’s reach; effectively trapping her there until further notice.  Having applied a scarf blindfold and then sheathed her head in a pair of tights, Louisa had then left her friend languishing on the bed for several hours in this sorry state. She’d returned later that evening, of course, but had then got carried away; deciding it would be a good idea to leave her helpless victim to get free on her own; after all, Melissa had initiated this whole bondage game, so Louisa had assumed that she wouldn’t mind staying that way for a while longer.

She had left the handcuff key on the duvet, of course, although at exactly which location on the double bed this had been placed, she had failed to specify; figuring that it shouldn’t take the trussed up woman too long to trawl the bed covers and release herself, even taking into account her extreme state of bondage.  But on this latter point Louisa had miscalculated badly, and unforeseen events had then conspired to ensure that Melissa had remained hopelessly imprisoned in her own apartment for another forty hours or so.

And it was this latter circumstance that had led to the pair, quite understandably, falling out.  When Melissa hadn’t turned up for work on Monday morning, Louisa knew immediately the reason for her non appearance, although it would be lunchtime before she was in a position to make her excuses and get away from work to go to her aid. Not surprisingly, after so long gagged, blindfolded and strictly hog-tied, Melissa was thirsty, hungry and very uncomfortable. She was also visibly terrified. But the one overriding emotion that poured from Melissa was extreme rage. As soon as her gag had been removed, she had vented her anger in no uncertain terms on her captor-turned-rescuer, so much so that Louisa found herself almost hesitating to untie her, lest she became violent.  Despite Louisa’s heartfelt apologies, and her attempted explanation that she had assumed that Melissa had been able to free herself and that she hadn’t meant for her to suffer all weekend, it was obvious that Melissa was having none of it, and that their friendship was over.

In fact, such were the threats and promises of retribution that flowed effortlessly from the wronged woman’s mouth, that Louisa had not dared to completely release her bonds; merely unlocking the handcuffs and loosening her elbows to an extent that she could now, albeit with difficulty, free herself with a few minutes’ effort. Louisa had then beaten a hasty retreat from Melissa’s flat; a storm of abuse ringing in her ears, the gist of which seemed to be that Melissa would be seeking revenge on her former friend for putting her through this two day ordeal.

Fortunately for Louisa, Melissa had seemingly told no one about her weekend of bondage torment; presumably because she didn’t want anyone to know about her secret lifestyle. Their relationship, however, both as friends and work colleagues, had soured beyond repair... or so it seemed. Luckily, Louisa had been promoted and moved into another office, thus reducing the frequency of encounters between the two of them to virtually nil. And that, as far as Louisa was concerned, seemed to be that.

So it was with great surprise, not to mention a degree of suspicion, that Louisa opened her inbox one morning earlier that week, to discover an email from Melissa. Under ‘Subject’, one single word had been typed: ‘Reconciliation’.

Tentatively, Louisa had opened the message, expecting the communication to concern some work related matter – perhaps to do with reconciliation of accounts, or some such - and to be of a formal nature. So she was shocked to discover this not to be the case; far from it in fact. The message was written in a friendly manner, and the title had indeed been an accurate indicator of Melissa’s reason for breaking the ice after all this time. In fact, Melissa was almost apologetic for her behaviour towards Louisa on that Monday afternoon.

Although the email was quite long, it was clear that the main thrust of the missive was that Melissa was holding out an olive branch, in order to try to undo the damage that had been caused, and to try to rekindle their friendship. Reading between the lines, the message was clear: let bygones be bygones. Melissa had even suggested that they meet up at her flat this coming Wednesday evening to, as she put it, “patch things up between us”.

Louisa had been in two minds about whether to accept the invitation. After all, this could be a trap. For hadn’t Melissa threatened vengeance for being left helplessly bound for all that time? But on the other hand, the tone seemed genuine. And Louisa did miss the friendship that the pair had once shared.  So after much deliberation, she replied; expressing her own regret at the pain and suffering she’d caused, and confirming that she would indeed be delighted to come around to Melissa’s flat at the scheduled time.

And so, that Wednesday evening, Louisa found herself standing on the doorstep of Melissa’s apartment; that same one bedroom flat in which the events had occurred that had led to the sorry state of affairs that now existed between the two women. With butterflies seemingly having a field-day in her stomach, she rang the bell.


Whatever qualms Louisa may have been entertaining whilst waiting for the door to open, these were soon alleviated as Melissa welcomed her into her home with a smile, and immediately managed to put her visitor at ease.

“Come through to the living room and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a good bottle of Chablis chilling in the fridge, if you fancy a glass.”

Chablis, as Melissa knew, was Louisa’s favourite wine, and it appeared that her host was pulling out all the stops in her efforts to heal the wounds between them. Louisa confirmed that a glass of wine would be most welcome and, whilst Melissa headed off to the kitchen, made her way into the main living area.

On the way, however, she passed the open bedroom door, and couldn’t help but glance within. It was here, of course, that she had accidently stumbled upon the self-bound form of Melissa. For some reason, this image sent a shiver of fear rushing up her spine, and for a second or two she contemplated turning on her heels and exiting the flat, and to hell with any reconciliation. Why this should cause such a reaction, Louisa wasn’t quite sure, although she guessed that it had something to do with the severity of the way she had bound her best friend, and the callous way she’d simply abandoned her here. Surely Melissa wasn’t about to simply forget about the two days of what must have been insufferable torment, was she? There had to be some more sinister reason for asking her to come over this evening, didn’t there?

Louisa quickly banished these thoughts from her mind. She had never known Melissa to be a malicious person, or one to hold grudges, so why would she start now? 

Opening the living room door, Louisa made her way in and sat down in an armchair. Within seconds Melissa reappeared, carrying a tray with a bottle of already opened Chablis Premier Cru and two filled glasses. Placing one in front of Louisa, she took the chair on the other side of the low coffee table.  

For a few seconds there was silence, before Melissa finally spoke.

“Well I’m glad you could make it here tonight Louisa. After what happened, I never thought we’d be sitting here in the same room having a civilised conversation again. I must admit that after you left me all tied up and helpless, for a long time I really did want to make you suffer. But time is a great healer, and I think that it would be good to bury the hatchet now and start afresh. What do you say? Are we friends again?”

Not really knowing what to say, Louisa nodded.

“Good, that’s settled then. Here’s to friendship.”

Melissa leaned forward and held out her glass. Louisa did likewise, and the slightest touch of the two vessels produced a barely audible clink. Immediately Melissa took a sip of her wine, never once taking her eyes off the woman sitting opposite her.

Louisa held her glass up to her lips but, for some reason, she hesitated. Something didn’t seem quite right here. What was it exactly? She shook herself out of it. She was being paranoid. Melissa seemed sincere in her desire to forget the past, and it would be rude to decline her hospitality now. Slowly, Louisa took a sip of her wine. It tasted good, and she realised that the tense nature of the situation had made her throat dry. She took a second, larger sip. Looking up, she realised that Melissa’s eyes were still on her. She was smiling.

“An excellent wine isn’t it? I knew that this was your favourite and that you wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to try it.”

Louisa looked down at the wine in her glass momentarily. That was weird. She’d only taken a couple of sips and already the alcohol was affecting her vision. She looked up again. Melissa was still smiling at her, but now her features seemed somewhat indistinct. Moving her head to one side, the room began to spin and her eyelids seemed to become heavier. She looked back at Melissa, whose smile now seemed more like an evil grin. With a voice that she hardly recognised as her own, Louisa just about managed to stutter a few words.

“What...have you me?”

As if in slow motion, Melissa rose from her chair and walked round the table; her face seeming contorted and grotesque to the now extremely befuddled Louisa. She was just in time to catch her guest’s shoulders as they slumped forward.

“You have a nice little sleep now Louisa. I’ve got a surprise for you when you wake up.”

Louisa’s eyes closed and the sound of Melissa’s voice seemed to become ever more distant. And then there was only oblivion.


Louisa’s journey back into consciousness was a slow ride, with her senses waking bit by minuscule bit. Her initial sensory impression was of a monotonous ‘plink, plink’ sound, that echoed deep within the chambers of her ears every three or four seconds. Seemingly muffled at first, the sound gradually sharpened as her mental faculties awoke, until it became recognisable as drops of water bouncing off a hard surface; possibly brick or concrete. Her olfactory senses kicked in next, as her nostrils detected a damp, musty odour which suggested that, wherever this place might be, it wasn’t particularly well ventilated.

And this was accompanied by a strange bitter taste that seemed to fill her mouth and irritated her parched throat. In her confused state, she tried to move, but both her arms and legs appeared to run into resistance whichever way they tried to turn. Her body, too, seemed to be constrained by some unknown presence. Indeed, only her head seemed to have retained any degree of freedom of movement, and she took advantage of this by gently rolling her stiff neck from side to side. To complement this action, she tried to flex her shoulders, but they seemed to be held by some immovable force.

Although her eyelids still felt too heavy to attempt opening them, Louisa had by now recovered her wits sufficiently to have taken on board one or two strange facts about her situation. Firstly, she appeared to be standing up, which seemed an odd position to have slept in. Secondly, her hands seemed as if they were welded together behind her back, as the fingers on her right hand were in contact with their counterparts on the left, and no amount of pulling or straining could prize them apart. And it soon became obvious that her legs were similarly fused in several places, from her ankles right up to her thighs. There was no doubt about it; something strong and immovable was impeding the use of her limbs and keeping her rooted to the spot.

For several minutes, the dripping sound continued unabated; the only sound, save for her shallow breathing and the beat of her heart.  Although gradually recovering her composure, Louisa still hadn’t worked out where she was or what had happened to her, although the nature of the obstruction preventing her hands from separating was obviously something that had been tightly clamped around her wrists, which felt metallic in nature. She tried to remember where she’d been before this unexpected spell of slumber had overtaken her, and the image of Melissa – with that gloating smile on her face - at once flashed across her mind’s eye.  And it was the thought of Melissa that led her back to that day where she’d left her friend tied up, gagged....and handcuffed.

Handcuffs!! This sudden enlightenment as to the nature of the metal objects around her wrists caused her to open her eyes wide. At first she could see very little in the gloom. But as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she realised that she was no longer in Melissa’s apartment. The room she had been brought to whilst she slept had one very small window, high up on the wall to her left. No more than two feet square, the quartered panes looked to be encrusted in dirt and mildew, although a faint light could still be discerned from beyond; which made this spot stand out against the darker walls.

So where was she? The height of the window suggested a basement, but other than that there was no clue as to her location.  Louisa glanced around the rest of the room. To her right, vaguely illuminated by the window’s murky light, there seemed to be a heavy wooden door; closed.  The rest of the walls looked to be hewn from concrete, as did the floor and ceiling, the latter being around two feet or so above her head. 

But the character of her environment was not the primary source of worry to her at that moment.  Of much more concern was the fact that, as she peered down from her standing position, the most prominent, not to mention disturbing features that met her gaze in the pale light of the moon, were the myriad of white ropes that seemed to encircle her from chest to ankles.  Wound around her shoulders, under her armpits, criss-crossing her breasts, encircling her waist, and running between her legs. All of which secured her to...what?  Louisa’s fingers investigated the post to which she seemed to have been tethered, finding it to be a stout metal pipe of some description.  And behind this, her hands came into contact with cold stone or concrete, which informed her that the pipe ran vertically parallel to, and no more than a few inches from, one wall.

In an effort to make her escape, Louisa tried to force her legs away from this anchorage point, but found that her lower limbs – just like the rest of her anatomy – had been secured to such an extent that she couldn’t move. Whoever had done this to her, had made every effort to ensure that getting free was not going to be an option. Her legs, it now transpired, had been doubly bound, Firstly, her thighs, calves, knees and ankles had been tied together, with the ropes cinched between them and tight knots applied to ensure that nothing loosened as she tried – as her captor must have known she would – to liberate herself. But then, more rope had been added, at several points between her thighs and her feet, to lash her limbs securely to the immovable mooring post.

Louisa screamed, but the parched nature of her throat and mouth ensured that the sound which emerged was hoarse and strangled. It did have the effect of rousing someone’s attention, however, as almost immediately the sound of footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door, and within seconds the heavy wooden panel creaked open and torchlight filled the room.

The bright glare blinded Louisa momentarily, but as her eyes slowly compensated for this abrupt change in luminosity, she recognised the smiling figure standing before her.

“Melissa!...What did you do to me?...Where are we?...Please let me out of this!”

Melissa swung the beam up and down over Louisa’s bound and helpless form, as if admiring her handiwork. This inspection also caused Louisa to glance down again. Now, with the slowly shifting shaft of light gliding over her frame, she realised for the first time that she was no longer wearing her jacket. Her skirt, too, had been removed, leaving her from the waist down, clothed only in her black tights and panties. Her shoes had also disappeared. Higher up, her blouse had been rearranged somewhat, with all the buttons bar the bottom one having been unfastened. And it was obvious that the silk material had then been deliberately pulled aside, to reveal her bra-cupped breasts; the severe nature of the bindings around her torso causing them to thrust outwards in an exposed and exaggerated manner.  

Still Melissa remained silent; simply content, it seemed, to wait for the dire nature of her erstwhile friend’s plight to sink in and see what reaction this would produce. The answer was another, more urgent, plea for release.

“Come on Mel. Look, I said I was sorry about leaving you tied up all weekend. Please don’t leave me here like this.”

Louisa strained at her bonds, but it was clear that she was going nowhere without assistance. And even before she broke her silence, it was obvious that Melissa had no intention of setting her captive free anytime soon. In leisurely manner, she began pacing the room; the torch beam bobbing around the confined space, revealing, dark, damp, mildew encrusted walls, and water dripping from a number of rusting pipes that crossed the ceiling.  Finally, she came back to where Louisa stood and placed the torch on the floor so that the beam shone directly upwards into her captive’s face.

“You know, those drugs are more powerful than I thought, and I didn’t expect them to work as fast as they did.  I’ve been waiting for over an hour and a half now for you to come round.  Still, it was worth it to see the horror on your face when you recognised the perilous state that you now find yourself in.”

Louisa bucked and strained at her bonds, which only made Melissa laugh cruelly.

“You won’t be getting out of that, so it seems a bit pointless working yourself up into a frenzy for no good reason. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Louisa tried not to show her fear, but when she spoke there was a definite tremor in her voice.

“Come on Melissa. What’s this going to achieve? Let me out of this and we can talk this thing through like civilised human beings.”

“Civilised?” Melissa’s anger suddenly erupted. “You call leaving me bound, gagged and hooded all weekend civilised?  I told you I’d have my revenge, and you’re so stupid you fell right into my little trap. Well now you’re going to pay for what you did to me.”

Pulling something from her coat pocket with her right hand, Melissa swiftly grabbed Louisa’s chin with her left and, before the bound woman knew what was happening, she had forcibly inserted the rolled up pair of old tights into her startled mouth.

“I didn’t like to gag you while you were unconscious, just in case you choked. But now you’re back in the land of the living, I need to ensure that you don’t cause a commotion and try to alert anyone to your whereabouts.”

Louisa tried to spit the foul tasting material out, but Melissa had already made plans to ensure this course of action was out of the question. Smoothing the end of the duct tape over Louisa’s mouth, she carefully began wrapping the strongly bonding adhesive strips around her lower face and head.  In an attempt to halt this process, Louisa shook her head, whilst pleading for leniency in ever more muffled tones as the layers of tape increased. This futile attempt to hinder the inevitable, however, only made Melissa laugh again.

“You are a feisty one, aren’t you? I guess I’ll really have to tape you up good and proper to make sure that you don’t get that gag out.”

After countless circumnavigations of her prisoner’s head, Melissa finally seemed content that Louisa’s mouth was sealed to perfection. She tore the end of the tape from the spool and smoothed down the encircling mass of sealant, which by now covered the whole of Louisa’s lower face from her chin to just under her nostrils.

“There, that should keep you quiet.”

She began pacing across the room again.

“I suppose it’s only fair to explain to you where we are. This room is the basement of an old farmhouse that was lived in up until a couple of years ago, but has since been abandoned. There’s no other human habitation within two or three miles of here, so the chances of you being able to ‘mmmph’ loudly enough to attract attention are virtually nonexistent.”

She casually stepped back into the beam of the torch and approached to within a few inches of Louisa’s terrified face.

“So, I expect you’re wondering exactly how I’m going to take my revenge for what you did to me; how long I’m going to leave you here etc. etc.”

Melissa waited a few seconds, whilst she let her latest nonchalant utterance sink in. Louisa squirmed and made a faint whining sound that she hoped would appeal to Melissa’s better nature. It failed to have the desired effect, however.

“You see, unlike the time you simply abandoned me, I’m going to leave the length of your sentence to a random act of chance.”

She glanced down at her watch.

“Ah good, only about five minutes to go until we find out how many hours you’re going to have to stay tied up here.”

The expression on the parts of Louisa’s face not wrapped up in tape must have conveyed a sense of bewilderment at this cryptic remark, so almost immediately Melissa began to explain what she had in mind.

“You see Lou, as it’s Wednesday, the midweek National Lottery draw will take place in a few minutes, and when it does we’re going to play a little game which I call ‘Bonus Ball Bondage’.”

Seeing that Louisa’s brow was still furrowed – due to both extreme fear and continued lack of comprehension - Melissa continued with her monologue.

“As I’m sure you know, the Lottery consists of six balls being drawn, followed by the bonus ball. We’re going to forget about the first six numbers, as they’re irrelevant to how your plight is going to be decided.”

As she was speaking, Melissa opened her shoulder bag and produced a small transistor radio that looked about twenty years old. She placed this on the floor beside the torch and turned it on. For a second or two, a loud burst of static echoed around the underground room. Melissa stood slowly up to her full height again and looked her quivering prey in the eye. A mischievous grin played at the corners of her mouth as she continued,

“It’s a very simple game... and one that’s very fair, as it relies totally on arbitrary factors outside of my control...and yours too.”  

Although she still didn’t have full knowledge of what was going on, Louisa knew that something sinister was afoot here. Thrashing wildly in her bonds, she began to scream as loudly as she could into her gag, in the hope that her cries would alert some innocent passerby that might just happen to be in the vicinity, who would then rush to her rescue.

Melissa, however, simply laughed.

“Scream all you like, there’s no one within earshot at this time of night... or virtually any other time for that matter. Now where was I? Oh yes, so here’s the deal...”

She paced across the room to the window, before turning and heading back to Louisa’s place of anchorage.

“...The number on tonight’s bonus ball will signify the number of hours that you’ll be staying tied up here. In other words, if a low number comes up, your time here could be of very short duration. In fact...”

She looked at her watch again.

“..., as you’ve already been here nearly two hours, if the number drawn is either one or two, then I’ll let you go straight away, as your sentence will already have been served in full.” 

She smiled at her trembling captive, as if expecting some sort of thanks for being so considerate. No such show of gratitude was forthcoming, of course. Instead a muffled whimper born of terror seeped through Louisa’s extremely effective gag.

“Of course, anything above two and you’ll have to stay here until your sentence is completed.  If the number is a three, then you’ll be out of here and back at home by eleven o’clock tonight.”

Again Melissa got close to her victim’s face and smiled; as if leaving your former friend bound and gagged for an as yet indeterminate span of time was the most natural occurrence imaginable.

“But then again, if fifty nine comes out... well let’s just say any plans you had for the next couple of days will have to be cancelled.”

Louisa’s mind – still slightly groggy from the after-effects of the drugs – had been working overtime to keep up with the grim news that Melissa was imparting with what seemed like great relish. But now, as the realisation that she could be here for more than two days suddenly hit home, her struggling and pleading increased dramatically. But all attempts to free herself were doomed to fail, and her screams cut no ice with her tormentor.

“Relax Lou, I wouldn’t leave you here for another fifty nine hours...”

She waited a few seconds, to see if this latest revelation had the effect of raising the restrained female’s hopes... only to smash them again almost immediately with her next statement.

“...As I said earlier, you’ve already served two hours, so they’d only be another fifty seven to go!”

The accompanying harsh laughter told the helpless and terrified prisoner that Melissa was taking immense pleasure from this game that she’d devised, and in which Louisa had no choice but to participate. She screamed again, but almost instantly, Melissa put her finger up to her lips and implored the less than willing detainee to quieten down.

“Sshh. They’re just about to draw the lottery balls. Let’s see if you’re going to be lucky or unlucky tonight.”

Still shivering with fright, Louisa managed to claim herself down. The presenter on the radio was just informing  his audience how much the jackpot stood at this evening, and was waxing lyrical about all the good causes and charities that were benefiting from the sale of tonight’s tickets.  Then the live draw began.

Louisa took very little notice as the commentator announced the first six balls to be drawn. Although this was an audio only experience, Louisa had seen the draw many times before on television, and in her mind’s eye could see the balls spinning around in their Perspex orb, before one was randomly plucked from the maelstrom of colliding coloured spheres and rolled down the chute to its resting place. As the presenter proclaimed  “and tonight’s bonus ball is...”,  she tried desperately to imagine a white ball being spat from the spiralling mass; for a white ball would mean a number between one and nine. Any other colour – blue, pink, green, yellow or purple – and she was in trouble.

She held her breath, as the next two seconds lasted for what seemed like an eternity.

“...fifty five”

Fifty five! For a moment or two, the enormity of those two words failed to register. But then, the fact that this random occurrence had just condemned her to more than two whole days of imprisonment in tight, inescapable bondage, suddenly hit like a sledgehammer.

Showing no emotion whatsoever, Melissa bent down and picked up the radio. The crackle of static, as she turned off this battery operated bearer of bad news, was drowned out by Louisa’s wail of dismay, however. With as much force as she could muster, the stricken woman once more fought her bonds; the handcuffs emitting a dull clanking sound as they crashed into the metal post to which she was tethered; sending out the message that they had no intention of releasing her from their steely clutches.

Straining with all her might, she desperately tried to pull her body and legs away from her mooring berth. But, as she knew only too well, she was wasting her time. The ropes held firm and refused to allow her even the slightest leeway. In fact, if anything, each strand of rope seemed to resent this test of its efficiency, and had decided to defy her by tightening its grip still further. Through the thin mesh of her tights, she felt the multitude of cords bite deeply into her flesh, and the latticework harness around her body followed suit by appearing to constrict and reaffirm its intention to ensure that she remained exactly where she was.

Melissa put the radio back into her bag and turned to face her still protesting captive.

“So, there we have it Louisa. The balls have spoken and pronounced your sentence. You can’t really argue with that, can you? Fifty five hours it is then... less the two you’ve already been here, of course, which by my reckoning brings it to fifty three. And fifty three hours from now will be...”

She checked her watch in the beam of the torchlight - which seemed to be weakening as the batteries’ strength declined - then did a quick mental calculation.

“...two o’clock on Saturday morning.”

Louisa howled as loudly as her gag would permit. Although she already knew the length of her term of confinement, being informed of just how far in the future this equated to, sent her into a renewed struggle-and-scream frenzy. It was still only Wednesday and, unless Melissa relented – which seemed unlikely –she was going to be here until the early hours of Saturday morning. This latest in a long line of pleas for clemency was met only with mocking indifference, however.

“What are you grizzling about? It could have been worse. It could have been fifty nine hours.”

For some reason, the fact that her sentence was four hours shorter than the maximum tariff available failed to placate the roped and shackled female, who continued to squirm frantically at her tethering post.

Melissa waited a few seconds until this latest futile outburst had passed, before continuing.

“Well Lou, I guess it’s time to leave you now, so that you can get some idea of how I felt when you left me hog-tied and helpless. Don’t worry though, you’ll soon get used to being tied up. After all, you’re going to be pretty familiar with the sensation by the time you do eventually get out of here. Of course, I will leave you the key to the handcuffs, just as you did for me.... Kind aren’t I?”

Melissa reached into her pocket and withdrew a small silver key that Louisa recognised as belonging to the wrist manacles.  Attached to it was a piece of string, several inches in length. Tantalisingly, she held it up to within an inch of the stricken woman’s face. For some reason, even though she knew she didn’t have a hope in hell of reaching it, Louisa pulled at her bonds and stretched her neck as far forward as she could; as if the act of even getting close to this key to her freedom was some sort of comfort to her. For what seemed like the hundredth time this evening, Melissa’s harsh laughter reverberated around the small underground chamber.

“You want this? Well I’ll leave it here for you. If you can reach it, you can make use of it.”

As Louisa impotently watched, Melissa reached up above her head and wound the string around one of the thick metal pipes that ran horizontally across the ceiling before disappearing into the stone wall.  Ensuring it was hanging at around Louisa’s eye level, she manoeuvred the key to within a few inches of her face.

“Is that close enough do you think?”

With hindsight, Louisa realised that craning her neck to its full extent in an attempt to touch the key with her nose was not a good idea, as by doing so she’d inadvertently given away the scope which her bonds would allow her to manoeuvre. But by the time this consideration had dawned on her, it was too late. Melissa now knew the perimeters of Louisa’s reach and could position the key on the very periphery of the limits to which she could stretch forwards; teasing her to attempt to strain that extra fraction of an inch, yet knowing that she could never quite attain her goal. Knotting the string securely, she stepped back and picked up the torch.

“There you go. It’s all yours. I wouldn’t pull too hard on the string though.”

 She shone the beam high up onto the stone ceiling, to reveal the source of the dripping sound that had been a continual background disturbance since Louisa had regained consciousness.

“As you can see, there’s still water in some of these pipes. And the one I’ve tied the key to looks fairly rusty and fragile to me, so fracturing it probably wouldn’t be in your best interests. You’d probably end up being showered in stagnant water.”

She swung the beam up onto the far wall.

“You see that mark up there? That proves that this cellar has flooded at least once before. So I think you can see that allowing water to gush unhindered into this place could result in you languishing up to your neck in freezing cold water, which wouldn’t be good for your chances of survival.”

Louisa could see that there was indeed a tide mark at roughly the level of her neck all around the walls, which suggested that Melissa’s analysis of the situation was probably accurate. Having made her point, Melissa once more set the torch down so that it illuminated the severely trussed and fettered woman. She came back and playfully swung the key towards Louisa, so that it bounced off her nose.

“So there we go my little ‘damsel-in-distress’. Now you’re just as trapped as I was when you abandoned me all those months ago. I think it’s about time that I left you to your own devices.”

She paused for a second, a sly smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

“But before I go, there are just a couple of adjustments that need to be made to your bondage.”

Louisa shook her head as she saw the pair of dark coloured tights being stretched and brought towards her face. But her resistance was half-hearted and stood no chance of preventing Melissa slipping the fine, soft mesh over her head and easing it down to her neck.

“I know you blindfolded me with a scarf and then sheathed my head in tights, but I’ve decided that I don’t want you completely sightless. Instead, I want you to be able to see the dawn break through the window and realise just how long a day lasts when you’re all tied up without hope of escape. These tights will give a bit of extra protection to the tape, though.”

She grasped a bit of the silky soft material on Louisa’s left cheek and pulled it away from her face momentarily, before letting it snap back onto her flesh.

“There, that’s all the bad stuff out of the way, now for the good bit.”

Louisa could only watch wide-eyed as Melissa began undoing one of the knots located on the ropes around her waist. But it wasn’t the cord that lashed her securely to the pipe that Melissa was making one final adjustment to, but another that was attached to this and ran down between her legs. Up  to now, this particular rope had been only loosely tied in comparison to her other bonds; so much so, in fact, that Louisa had paid little attention to it up until the present time. Now however, as Melissa pulled this ligature tightly upwards into her crotch, Louisa gasped into her gag. But it wasn’t simply the unexpected sudden tautness that was the catalyst for her muffled outburst. Nor was pain a major issue. What surprised her was the thrill she received as the rope dug deeply inside her. Melissa pulled the rope tighter still, until it was as high and as stretched as it would go, before retying this rope to those on her stomach.

“Just to show you that I’m not completely without compassion, that crotch rope will give you something to occupy your time during the long and lonely hours you’ll be staying here. I’m sure you’ll find there’s a lot of fun to be had if you use this to its full potential.”

Momentarily, Melissa bent down and peered around the pipe at Louisa’s back.

“Ah yes, your fingers should be able to just about grasp the rope around your waist if you’re lucky. A few jerks on that and you’ll be well on your way to bondage heaven.”

Without further ado, Melissa retrieved the torch from the floor and headed for the exit.  As she reached the door, however, she turned and once more aimed the powerful beam of light back at her victim.

“You know, sometimes groups of kids come to this house, to explore and play in the ruins. I wonder what they’ll do if they find you here. Do you think they’ll help you get free? Or do you think they’ll simply laugh and mock the bound up woman in the cellar? Personally, I guess it’s more likely to be the latter.”

She paused for a second, as a thought seemed to come to her.

“You never know, Louisa, you might get lucky. Maybe a gang of testosterone-fuelled teenage boys will chance upon you, and take it in turns to fuck your brains out. Now there’s something to look forward to!”


Louisa screamed hysterically as the door slammed shut. But it was obvious, from the sound of a car engine starting and then rapidly fading into the distance, that she was now on her own. Now in near darkness, she could just make out the slightly lighter window against the pitch black walls. Even taking account of the fact that her vision was now hampered by the mesh of the tights, the illumination that stole through the dirt encrusted glass seemed to have decreased in intensity since she’d first awoken from her drug induced slumbers, and she guessed that this must be a consequence of the moon having now set. How long would it be before dawn broke? And with the coming day, what would befall her? Could she summon assistance? Or was she doomed to stay here until Melissa returned? This latter appeared to be the most likely outcome.

Louisa flexed every joint, every muscle, every sinew of her limbs and body, in an attempt to seek out some weak point in Melissa’s binding technique. But if such a thing existed, she failed to find it. It was no good; she was lashed rigidly and inescapably against this sturdy vertical pipe until help arrived.

So what were her options? Well, the first possibility was that she could try with all her might, once daybreak arrived, to summon assistance.  But bearing in mind the location of the building she was incarcerated in, the chances of anyone coming to her aid were probably minimal.  And Melissa’s last comment had chilled her to the bone, and the thought of attracting the wrong kind of person filled her with dread.

Then there was the key; hanging so enticingly only a couple of inches in front of her. But what were the chances of being able to release that small shard of metal from the string and get it into the handcuff locks?  For a start, with her mouth sealed, she would be unable to use her teeth to gnaw through the twine and release it. And hanging only just within range of her stretching neck, it was all she could do to nudge the frustratingly close-at-hand object with her nose or forehead, which simply caused it to swing backwards and forwards tantalisingly; an almost ghostlike flash of silver in the darkness.

And even if she could in some way have parted the key from its bindings, how would that help? The key would immediately fall to the floor, which in her current state would require her to somehow manoeuvre it into a position where her fingers could grab hold of it and fit it into the lock. And secured in upright posture as she was to the post, this simply wasn’t viable. So, much as she hated to admit it, there was no point in wasting her time on so futile a project.  

And besides, Melissa had warned her of the dangers of splitting open the rusty old pipe, with the possibility of the room subsequently flooding.  Reluctantly, she had to admit to herself that recovering the key to the handcuffs would have to be dismissed as an impossibility; which would be so frustrating once it became light and she was able to view it dangling only inches from her face, as if mocking her.

So that just left one final option: grit her teeth and wait for Melissa to return. It would be an extremely long test of her endurance, she knew that, but it seemed the most plausible way that her predicament would draw to a conclusion.  But hour after interminable hour of having to stand rigidly lashed upright in this cold dank cellar held no great appeal. And the thought of being without food and water for two whole days caused her to renew her efforts to escape from the multitude of ropes that held her in check.  How would she ever get through this arduous ordeal?


As if in answer to this question, just as she was embarking on this latest round of ineffectual wriggling and writhing, she inadvertently caused the rope between her legs to momentarily tighten and thrust upwards. And as the rough cord rubbed into her, she experienced a strange jolt of energy, similar in nature to a mild electric shock, which shot rapidly through her entire being. Immediately she felt her skimpy lace panties becoming damp.

Intrigued by these sudden unexpected stirrings of sexual stimulation, Louisa’s grasping fingers sought out the rope that had caused this sudden distraction; her intention being to explore this weird phenomenon further and see where it led. It took a few seconds of twisting and stretching to their utmost limits, but finally the index and middle fingers of her right hand slid into the infinitesimally slender gap between the relevant rope and the top of her tights.

Slowly at first, she began deliberately yanking on the rope, simultaneously thrusting her pelvis and gradually working herself into a rhythmic frenzy, until, after a few minutes, she exploded into one of the most fantastic and intense orgasms she had ever experienced. This, she thought to herself, must be how Melissa had managed to tolerate the long hours of her own captivity.  And if it had been good enough for Melissa, then it was good enough for her. 

Maybe the next two days wouldn’t be quite so bad after all...



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