She’s that complex mix; that rare and unique combination of innocent submissiveness and in-control seductively. Sabrina Covington is the quintessential ’10,’ with all the trimmings, bells and whistles; the thirty-five-year old woman with the twenty-five-year-old body, the eleven-year-old outlook, and a brand of determination and courage rarely seen in damsels of her variety.
Tall and handsome in tight-waist suits; devastating in teasing underwear, and totally awesome naked, Sabrina sticks out and into things like a symphonic harp in a room filled with kettledrums.
High strung and positively smashing in sky highs, she’s that special, hip breed of woman without peer, who loves living, and works at it by surrounding herself with all the things, situations and people that make her happy and fulfilled.
Bree’s got a very controlled way about her, betrayed only by a mysterious longing; a kind of hungry radar, pulsating from out of the epicenters of those perfect blue peepers of hers; ricocheting glances in perfect time and space; revealing the essence of her bent to those of us who know what to look for, and where.
Sabrina doesn’t reveal her kink to everyone; only to the man she loves. I’m the fortunate one who happened to come along at the perfect place and time; the man she could not resist; the quiet opportunist who lucked out looking for the perfect damsel in distress, and ended up falling in love with the classic bondage wench.
It all started with a note in my mailbox. No, ‘note’ isn’t quite the right word to describe one of Sabrina’s epistles. I will try to paraphrase it down from its original thousand or so words. (She does tend to go on a bit.)
Here’s the crux of her bent: ‘Hi, John: my name is Sabrina, and I’d love to watch TV with you tonight… You can tie me up on the couch if you like, and I’ll do my best to get out… I’ve got loads of rope and wine and time… I’m in 5J… How about we connect at my place around 7:30… We’re bound to have fun… Please be on time. I do love to wait, but not when I’m free, unless you aren’t. Love, Bree.’
She answered the door in a bright-red, tight-fitting tank top, no bra, and cut-to-the-crotch, Daisy Dukess. Super high, bright-red heels, strapped on at the ankles with the thinnest of leather belts completed her breathtaking effect.
The look on her face said, ‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.’
“Wow” was my hesitated comeback at the door.
She blushed a bit before doing her line with a wide, excited smile.
“Hi, please come in. You’re early.”
I stepped in and turned to watch Sabrina close and lock the door. The unmistakable smell of nail polish filled the room. I took a deep breath.
A peek into the living room inspired a second ice-breaker.
“Nice place you have her.”
I was immediately in love with her, and she with me. We were like two kids locked in a candy store for the night. She moved gracefully into the room, calm as can be. We sat on the couch, she to my right.
“You said not to be late, so I decided to be early,” I heard myself say before thinking, ‘Shmuck.’
“Pardon me while I finish my nails,’ she said while bringing her knees together. “What do you think of this shade?”
Sabrina has stunning hands; damsel hands, and by the way she choreographs them, they beg, pray and wish to be tightly lashed together at the wrists. (Where else?)
“My favorite red,” I said, and then thought, ‘I must be dreaming.’
She did the right pinky and replaced the applicator. A mischievous smile flashed at me while Sabrina screwed the top back onto the bottle and placed it on the glass clear coffee table in front of us. It’s one of those inch-thick monsters, perfect for spread-eagles, or whatever.
“I’ll be dry in a few minutes,” she said with a wink and an inviting smile. Then, while reaching for a bottle on the table, she revealed more of her bent. “This is chloroform. Do you know how to use it?”
‘Is Whitney Prescott top-heavy?’
I nodded a ‘yes’ and marveled at how easily things were going.
‘I’ve got to do something about all this formality.’
I love making things interesting when dealing with too-willing damsels.
“What, exactly, did you have in mind?”
Sabrina unscrewed the chloroform cap and took a tiny sniff.
“I love waking up in tight, inescapable bondage. It’s my fantasy; my turn-on.” She was beginning to fidget a bit. “That wicker chest in the corner is where I keep my gear,” she said with a smile.
And I thought, ‘It’s time to pop the obvious question.’
“Why me, Sabrina?” My inquisitiveness grew severely sincere. “We’re utter strangers.”
She let a few curious beats go by…
“Not really. My scrapbook will tell it all.”
After screwing it's cap back on, she carefully placed the chloroform bottle down on the glass and pointed to the dining room table. I stood slowly and headed for it as she locked her fingers together in her lap and smiled pleasantly.
The album was filled with downloaded hard copies of stories I’d written for various, bondage websites. Originals and photo copies of others from vintage magazines, illustrated with drawings and pictures, were also meticulously laminated with clear plastic.
‘She’s got good taste.’
I smiled with surprise and asked, “How did you know I was me. Nobody knows my real name…and how the hell did you find me, let alone an apartment in this…The waiting list for a one-bedroom is a mile long.”
Sabrina smirked with hidden satisfaction.
“My secret,” she said while glancing at the glass top coffee table. “Would you do me like you did Dawn in ‘Taunted Bound?’
I walked back into the living room and stood in front of her.
“Stand up. I always sample a bottle of wine before I drink it.”
Sabrina rose slowly from her restless confidence, with hands behind her back. Thanks to the heels, we were both the same height. I let a few eye-to-eye beats go by before letting her know from hence I came.
“I am going to give you more than what is in the scrapbook.”
A dreamlike aura surrounded the electrifying consummation of our first kiss. Like two pats of soft butter coming together for as long as it takes to melt into each other. I gripped her shoulders with both hands and pulled Sabrina to me. We closed our eyes and peeked into each other’s souls. A pleasantly paralyzing heat engulfed us.
‘Wow,’ we thought, with awe and relief. It was a comfort to know we both knew well how to suck face.
Sabrina was unconscious and stretched out on her glass top coffee table. She lay on her side, held to the cool, smooth surface by very tightly drawn lines of quarter inch nylon, running from the elbow bind to the head end of the table and under to the other end, where it was knotted to the ankle cinch hanging off the edge of the glass. Her legs were parallel bound above and below the knees as well.
Bree’s wrists were bound, palm-to-palm, behind her back; the elbow cinch was especially tight too. Her gag was face cloth stuffing held in with Ace bandage and four turns of line over that at the mouth. Another line ran from that line collection at the back of her head, down and over the wrist cinch, then between her legs and up to her big-brass belt buckle, which I had tightened one more notch.
I hadn’t undressed her. I figured, why rush things. We were in no hurry. Besides, she did say to do her like Dawn in ‘Taunted Bound,’ and I was not about to disappoint the request. Why get off on the wrong foot.
‘If she isn’t Dawn, nobody is,’ I thought with glee as I stood there, tugging on the crotch rope and waiting for Bree to wake up and into my fantasy-come-true…Hers too.
‘And I was gonna go to the movies tonight.’
Her head rested on a throw pillow, her pony tailed blonde hair draped gracefully atop the cool glass surface of the table.
‘Wonder how she blew my cover and found out where I live.’
Sabrina woke quickly from the beginnings of a very arousing dream and soon discovered the inescapable details of her situation. As she did, I pulled on the crotch rope line, forcing her head back and off the pillow until the tension maxed out and she realized that moving her head forward would tighten both the gag and crotch rope severely.
“Muhuhuh,” moaned my newfound mega-fan as she took stock of her wished-for, but very demanding dilemma.
A deep breath made Bree abundantly aware that her upper body had been tightly encased in several turns of thick rope, from just above her ample breasts to Sabrina’s 24-inch waist. Her stunning mounds popped out proudly against the red tank top, making their exquisite presence known in all the right places.
‘What a fox.’
A line from her wrist cinch to the lower thigh circles displayed her hands neatly and helplessly, with fingers flailing provocatively in all directions.
‘ALLRIGHT!’ she appreciated to herself, with profound respect for my uncompromising ability.
She swooned in obvious approval, or so it seemed.
“I’m glad you concur. How about I leave you to your thoughts for a spell while I pop up to my place for the DVD video version of ‘Taunted Bound.’ You will be the first outsider to see it.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, I knelt and pressed my mouth up against her right ear.
“Say ‘yes.’ I think I am in love with you.”
“Muuhh,” she again approved. ‘And he’s got it on DVD? YESSS!’
The feel of fingers pinching and toying with Sabrina’s right nipple shifted her comments into higher exertions of tonal and body English. She pulled her head forward as far as the line and gag would allow, twisting and squirming for all she was worth.
Her fingers fanned out sexily; her hips contracted, and every rope around Sabrina’s sumptuous figure tightened against the effort.
‘This is too exquisite for words.’
“I know this is not in the story,” I explained, “but I do love the way your nipples are responding.”
She watched as I carefully fashioned a slip knot lasso out of some thick dental floss I’d found in her bathroom and knelt again to contain the base of her right nipple in its insisting grip. (I’d cut holes in the tank top while she was unconscious.) She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and savored the move.
“We have miles to go before we sleep this night, my love.”
The other nipple was soon brought closer to its twin by a half inch or so by the floss tether. I then ran a thin line from its center to the wall, where I affixed the top of the chloroform bottle to its end and lowered it between the four inch gap that separated the wall and the couch. The fix brought a good ten ounces of pressure to bear upon the indelicate extension of Sabrina’s nipples.
Again, she swooned and tugged on the crotch rope with her head, and took another deep breath to see what other effect it would have on the nipple tether.
“There,” I said, with extreme satisfaction as I stood and backed out of Sabrina’s outrageous aura, while saying, “I’ll be back,” like the Governor of California.
I was out the door in a flash, leaving my very informed damsel to her frenzy of need and frustrated passion, making sure to disengage the bottom lock button so as not to need her keys upon my return.
And Sabrina Covington thought, after hearing the door close and hoping I had the presence of mind to press the lock button, ‘He’s as far out as I am; maybe even further, if that is possible…Fantastic!’
She tore into her bondage, using every bit of her strength and ingenuity, bringing the heat of her needs to new heights of arousal and frustration.
‘This is awesome,’ she realized, just before her first multiple began to implode without warning, sending Bree into a tail spinning, mindless fit of gushing ecstasy.
“Muh. Muhuhuh. MMMMMUHUHUHUHU!”
So it went for several wild minutes of fearful fantasy fulfillment.
‘Geeze, I hope he had the presence of mind not to lock me in.’
Her keys had been well hidden.
When I got back to the apartment, my answering machine carried an interesting piece of news.
“John: this is Marnie,” a pleasantly upset damsel friend of mine blurted. “Please call me back as soon as you can. It’s very important.”
I immediately returned the call.
“Hi, it’s JR, what’s doin’?’
“John: thank God I got you before tomorrow. Can you come down for a few minutes? There’s something I must tell you, and it can’t wait or be talked about over the phone.”
“Be there in five minutes.”
She sounded like a kid with a new toy. Marnie lives in the apartment just below me. I grabbed the DVD and made a quick call…
“Vic: It’s me. Hate to pull the plug on your project, but I need my camera equipment right now…”
Marnie’s one of those hot-to-trot-anytime babes, whose need for rope bondage keeps several of us busy on a two-to-thirty-times-a-week basis. She greeted me at the door with a smile.
“Hi. You brought a video?”
I walked briskly into the apartment and turned as she closed and locked the door.
“Make it fast, darlin’, I’m late for an appointment.”
She scoped my shoulder bag and smiled as she stood there in her tightest faded jeans, high-heeled cowgirl boots and white, skin-tight T-shirt.
“Too bad, I was hoping you might want to get into one tonight.”
I took a long, disappointed look at her top-heavy figure and flinched in fond remembrance. She reached for a piece of rope hanging from the doorknob and put her arms seductively around my neck. Marnie had always wanted tie me up too.
“C’mon,” she sighed. “Besides, I have a lot to tell you, and it needs your undivided attention.”
“Sorry, babe, but I really have to get going. Can you tell me tomorrow?”
She kissed me hard on the lips, and worked her mouth around my face and up against my right ear into which she whispered, “5J needs a friend. I gave her your number and told her to call tomorrow. She’s a big fan of yours. Wanna hear more?”
The feel of bra-less breasts blessed my chest as Marnie took my upper arms in hand and pushed them back and together behind my back.
“Her name is Sabrina, and she’s never been alone in bondage with a man.”
I smiled and made some quick plans.
“Tell you what, how about you tell me all about her on the way to and after my appointment.”
She took a deep, incredulous breath and asked, “Are you inviting me to a session?” She fiddled with the rope and tried to do my elbows, but I stopped her before it was too late. “It must be an important session.”
My tone waxed masterful.
“Give me the rope and turn around.”
A Few Minutes Later
We stood at the door to Sabrina’s apartment. Marnie’s astonishment was intense, to say the least.
“Think we should ring?” I smiled.
She thought for a second or two before shaking her head in the negative.
I gripped her arm roughly when Marnie tried to turn and head for home.
“Why not?” My tone was decidedly suspecting. “Is there a problem?”
She stared at me through the top of her hood. It was connected to a knee-length, red-velvet cape, which covered up nicely anything that might have been going on underneath. Only the two of us knew what was behind the large, brass zipper that ran from just under her nose down to the hem of the cape.
“Tell you what,” I whispered mischievously, “if the door’s unlocked, we’ll invite ourselves in…If not, we’ll leave, and you can have your way with me. Okay?”
‘Thank God,’ she thought, with mixed expectations, knowing from experience that when it came to offering choices I always seemed to come out on top.
Marnie nodded a quick ‘yes.’ She ‘knew’ that Sabrina never left her door unlocked.
‘Then again, this is John’s game.’
“What did you say her name was, Sabrina?”
I smiled and grabbed the knob, turning it slowly and deliberately as Marnie watched in amazement and felt my arm pull her close. She stared deeply into my knowing eyes as I raised both brows in mock surprise. I then leaned my shoulder up against the door and drew my semi-unsuspecting damsel closer.
“I guess we’re invited.”
In we went, moving as one into the hallway. Of course, both my consort and lover had no choice in the matter. Sabrina’s bondage made it impossible to see who was at the door, but a sixth or seventh sense told her not to worry.
‘It’s GOT to be,’ she prayed, with extreme concern. She also sensed the presence of a second party… ‘Nah.’
I slammed the door and secured it with lock, chain and dead bolt. Marnie’s eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw what was happening on the coffee table.
‘What’s happening?’ she thought as she squirmed and danced in her ropes, frozen in her tracks and suspended in a moment of surprise that transcended any moment she’d ever stood surprised in before. ‘When will I ever learn?’
I took her by the arm and headed for the bathroom. She looked up at me with mixed respect, while relenting to the sheer momentum of her current absurdity.
“It’s me, Sabrina. I’ve got business in the bathroom. I won’t be more than a minute or ten.”
She was about ten minutes away from wanting out anyway.
I unzipped Marnie’s cape and let it drop to the floor before guiding her into the bathroom. After sitting her on the commode, I turned on the light, closed the door, and admired the way her breasts bulged out between the several turns of thick rope that welded her arms to her torso. She looked up at me and then down at the hard pressed bump in my crotch, while her head swam in a sea of question marks.
“Muh,” she commented, from behind her ball gag and duct tape wrap, before thinking, ‘Are they in cahoots, or what?’
“Quiet,” I whispered, sternly. “I don’t want her to know you’re
here until the last minute. Know what I mean?”
And Marnie thought, with mild concern and deep humility, ‘I was set up.’
I pulled a five-foot length of thick line from my shoulder bag, knelt down in front of her hot-n-bothered astonishment, and parallel bound her booted ankles together as tightly as I could. She watched with eyes wide, expressing the magic of the moment as only a rabid, bondage damsel’s eyes can.
‘Maybe he can read my mind.’
“You should have called me immediately about Sabrina.” I whispered, with a note of strict concern in my tone. “Her first time in bondage with a man; a man she has a crush on, no less…Really.”
By now, Marnie was well into the significance of things as looks of extreme uncertainty trenched her forehead with worry lines, causing her to fist and flare her sexy fingers in a gesture of fervent distress.
“Is that tight enough for you,” I asked, with a note of villainous aplomb in my delivery…Marnie likes it tight, which gave me the perfect excuse to pull out all the stops on the severest fix I’d ever put her into. “Is that the way I taught you to handle first-timers.”
Flashbacks of training conversations we’d had about just such a matter bounced around in her thinking, especially the parts that mentioned disciplinary action, should she not learn her lessons according to my very specific specifications.
Marnie knew by now that she was in for it.
“Mmuhuh,” she tried to explain, while her sexy physique twisted and squirmed in an attempt at stirring my hidden understanding.
“Yeah-yeah, I know; you told her to call tomorrow. Not good enough. Now stand up so I can do your upper legs.”
Six Minutes Later
With her knees facing the plumbing, I used 50-feet of tight rope to unmercifully hogtie Marnie on her stomach in the bathtub. A taught line, running from the soap hole handle in the wall to the crotch rope configuration, insured against her getting into more trouble than she was already in. As with her latest find on the coffee table, she, too, enjoyed the added extra of having a line to her pussy, by way of a firmly secured, rope gag line. It forced her head back as far as it would go, making certain her nose would stay parallel to the spigot no matter what she did.
“Shall we turn on the water, Marnie dear?”
My menacing dare was genuine; the drain plugged. Of course, she thought me incapable of doing such a thing. I did it anyway.
“You’d better pray I return before things get too out of hand.”
I sat on the rim of the tub and adjusted the water to lukewarm.
“Next time, call me the minute you know something I don’t know.”
Meanwhile, on the coffee table, Sabrina’s vitals imploded for the last time.
Marnie’s sexy, clear-gloss-tipped fingers flailed when a sharp, electric jolt of fear-filled excitement shot from her pounding heart to her impatient pussy.
‘Oh-my-God, he’s actually going to leave me here like this. GEEZ!
Anything could happen while I’m in here all alone, bound up and all.’
She recalled a recent mishap with another bondage ‘master’ and took a deep breath.
The tub was filling up at the rate of a gallon a minute.
“Are things real enough for you, darlin’?” I chided as I stood, closed the shower curtain, and opened the door.
Marnie couldn’t see me leave, and prayed I was still there when she heard the door close. I wasn’t.
Meantime, Sabrina thought, when she heard the water filling the tub, ‘He’s taking a BATH?!’ The possibility tweaked her fear to the max. ‘That could take more than a half hour.’
She had totally spent herself getting into the realization of her wildest flight of imagination. I sat down in front of her on the couch. She looked up at me and at the chloroform bottle in my hand.
She was exhausted.
‘I should have waited for tomorrow, like Marnie insisted.’
I smiled and waved the bottle at her, saying, “Want s’more?”
After undoing the ropes that held Sabrina to the coffee table, I lifted and carried her into the bedroom, where we lay together on the four-poster, double brass bed that dominated the room. I sponged the sweat from her brow with my handkerchief and kissed her affectionately about the neck, shoulders and head.
“I love your bed…I’m going to undo the knots holding the crotch rope in place. So prepare yourself. There will still be tension, but it will give way as you move your head forward and onto the pillows. Got all that?”
When the knots were loosed, I massaged the back of her neck as she pulled her head forward and plopped it onto the pillows.
‘I love how he handles me.’
“Be back in a sec.”
Sabrina looked up at the ceiling mirror and got into appreciating the comfort and complexity of the bind.
‘Marnie was right. He knows exactly how I like being done.’
“Mind if I make a call?” I asked while re-entering the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Sabrina spotted the chloroform bottle on the night table. I picked up the phone and punched in a fake call.
“Hi, Marnie: this is John.”
Sabrina flinched with surprise, causing her eyes to go wide with concern and her groin to fill with another unexpected rush of twitching moisture.
“What’s happening?...Oh?...What’s her name?...When?...Great. I can’t wait.” I turned and flashed Sabrina a wide smile. “Really? How old is she?...Kidnapped?...Super…Sounds like a fun gal…Can’t wait…Okay…Talk to you soon…Sure…B’bye.”
I hung up the phone without breaking eye contact. Sabrina blushed red when she saw me reach for the knock-out juice, writhing disapprovingly as she flashed back to her conversation with Marnie the night before.
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to tie’m up for as long as I know’m,” confessed Marnie. “But every time an opportunity presented itself, I lost a bet, or gave the wrong answer, or blew it for reasons I am too embarrassed to admit.”
“I don’t get it,” said Sabrina while thumbing through an old bondage magazine and getting more and more impatient about when Marnie would set up a meet with me.
“So, here’s the deal,” continued Marnie. “I want you to wait another day before calling him. Meanwhile, since I know we were never meant to be with each other the way I’m sure he’ll wanna be with you, I’m gonna set him up by putting knock-out drops in his beverage. He’ll be pissed as hell, but who cares. I will have had my night and way with John, and that’s all I care about at this point.”
Back To Real Time
“MMMUHUH!” said Sabrina when she pondered the possibility of being left the way she was while I got waylaid by Marnie, drugged-n-tied up, and used all night.
I unscrewed the cap to the chloroform bottle and watched her body language shift into a frenzied display of genuine, unbridled fear.
‘What have I done?’
“So you wanna be kidnapped,” I reminded, dryly, while lying down next to Sabrina’s maniacal display of damsel-in-severe-distress struggling and bringing the bottle closer to her lower face.
Her frantic protestations required I wrap my legs around her and grab the ponytail to keep from missing the chloroform target just below her nose. It soon became abundantly obvious, for whatever unbeknownst reason of which I was not yet aware, that Sabrina’s refusal to cooperate was genuinely called for…
I tried another approach.
She felt my lips caressing the most sensitive areas of her long, luscious neck; biting, licking, sucking, air-brushing and loving every square inch.
“I love you, Sabrina Covington,” I assured her, while dripping a few drops of fantasy juice on the Ace, just below her nose. “There’s no need to worry. When you wake up, I’m going to make you crazy.”
She held her breath as long as possible, wiggling wildly in her bondage for a few unbelievable moments before getting extremely aroused and going out like a light.
“MMMUHUHUH! MUHUH! Muh….uhuh…mmmuhuh…” ‘Oh, shit.’
“When it rains it pours.”
Marnie was suspended in a constant state of spasm.
‘This can’t be happening,’ was all she could think. ‘This isn’t happening…What’s happening?’
I entered quietly. She paid no attention. She had no attention to pay. The water level was well past her collar bone.
“Listen up, Marn. Sabrina is tied and asleep on her bed. I’m going to untie her and leave a note on the bedroom mirror. If my calculations are correct (They always were), show time will be in nine or fifteen minutes. The water level should be up to your chin by then. Wanna take a chance on things going as planned, or should I turn off the water?”
I gave her alternatives time to sink in.
“Make a fist with your right hand if you want me to leave things as they are.”
What a moment that was. I could barely control myself. She hesitated a few seconds and made the wrong fist, by ‘mistake.’
“I’ll be in my apartment. Tie her up in her sexiest underwear and heels, and deliver her, un-gagged, under the cape. Got that?”
Marnie closed her eyes and breathed deeply into her ropes.
“You look absolutely perfect. Have fun.”
I smiled and left the room.
Marnie heard the door close and thought, ‘Why didn’t he turn off the water? I made the right fist.’
It was still clinched.
‘Oh-SHIIIIIIT! What have I done?’
It was obvious another part of her had made the ‘right’ decision. She pondered the significance of the ‘mistake’ while doing her best to ignore what was going on between her legs. Talk about trying to achieve the impossible.
‘He gave me a choice, so there’s gotta be a solution.’
She took a deep, rapturous breath and got into another blissfully hopeless escape attempt.
‘This is the tightest one yet.’
There was, of course, a fail safe solution to Marnie’s life-threatening predicament; a solution she’d have to discover within fifteen minutes if things didn’t go according to plan.
‘I gotta let go to the multiple to clear my head so I can think straighter.’
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, I listened to Marnie’s muffled screams before undoing Sabrina and stroking my rock hard erection to its way-overdue conclusions.
Marnie spent the next dozen minutes vacillating between the overwhelming enjoyments of the situation and trying to figure out a way to keep the water level from rising higher than what she knew would be an ‘impossible’ situation, what with the drain being well out of reach and all.
‘Why the HELL didn’t I make a fist with my left hand?’
“Well,” I chuckled to myself as I wrote in lipstick ‘GO TO THE BATHROOM, NOW!’ on the mirror in front of Sabrina’s four-poster and said, “She did say she wanted to be a real damsel in distress someday. I guess this is the day.”
I then headed for Vic’s to pick up my camera equipment.
Marnie went nuts with torn supposition, struggling wildly as the slamming of the apartment door added its two cents to the anxious mix of speculative thought bouncing around her powers of deduction.
‘Maybe there IS no fail safe solution to this,’ she reflected while trying to see how far up the water level had progressed and dealing with the tightest, most dangerous and demanding fix I or anyone had ever placed her into. But the more she thought and writhed in the ecstatic throws of her multiple, the more grateful she was for the no-choice, expanding horizon of her three-year experience with bondage…
Several Anxious But Pleasurable Minutes Later
That’s when something autonomic happened. While flailing and stretching her fingers in an attempt at reaching a knot or two, Marnie’s right hand inadvertently grabbed onto the suspension line connected to the soap hole handle above. At first, she just held onto it, but when the rising tide reached the tip of her chin, and the line tension slackened a bit, she realized there was enough water in the tub to achieve a modicum of buoyancy.
All she had to do was pull her thoroughly hogtied body up the suspension line when the depth of the water was right. The drain hole under the spigot would then keep it that way until the chloroform wore off. Only trouble was, since her wrists were crossed, she could only use one hand at a time, which meant that, unless she could figure out a way to shimmy up the rope, there was no way Marnie could pull herself out of harm’s way.
‘There’s GOT to be a way.’
There was, but she was too involved with the multiple to exert enough concentrated thought to the problem.
‘This is MADDENING,’ screamed Marnie within herself while the water started to tease her nostrils with the irreversible knowledge that if she didn’t figure things out, and soon, her lungs would begin to fill with H2O within a matter of minutes.
“MMUHUH…MMMMMUHUHUHUH!!!!” she whaled as the multiple reached the end of ITS rope and her body bobbed up high enough to give her an extra inch of slack onto which to grab hold with both her middle and index fingers.
‘Oh,’ figured my most audacious damsel as she wound the tether round her fingers and raised her body to a buoyancy point well above the danger zone of her wildest bondage dream.
Sabrina began to regain consciousness. As she did, the phone signaled.
The memory of what had happened just before the knockout juice had been applied made her instantly horny.
‘Maybe that’s him.’
“Hello…Oh, hi Mom…I’m good. You?”
Her back was to the mirror, but she could hear the water filling up the tub.
“Oh, nothing much; I was just taking a nap…No, that’s OK.”
Thanks to the sound of the water, Marnie could not hear anything outside of her immediate, audio awareness. She hung onto the rope and gradually lost both her anxiety and the damsel-in-distress overtones that had dominated the singular event thus far…
Sabrina stood from the bed to wind things up with mom just before catching a peripheral glimpse of what I’d written on the mirror.
“Oh-shit…Oh, nothing, mom; gotta go. Talk to you soon.”
An Hour Or So Later
Vic Spooner locked the door to his apartment and wondered, ‘What’s he up to tonight?’ The walk to the elevator engendered further speculation. ‘He is into music. That’s it; he’s doing a music video. Who isn’t, these days.’
He decided against dropping by.
Our apartments are on the same floor, but on opposite sides of a one-hundred-ten foot hallway. Vic’s place is closer to the elevator. Before he could press a button, the lift door opened, and Sabrina, decked out in the red-velvet cape and sky high pumps, stepped into the hallway, followed by Marnie, who was barefoot and dressed in loose fitting jeans and T-shirt.
Vic was immediately taken by Sabrina.
“Hi, Marnie: what’s up?”
“Hi, Vic: meet Sabrina Covington. Sabrina: meet Vic Spooner.”
Bree made two, apprehensive fists behind her back and prayed while her newfound neighbor continued staring uncomfortably with awe and surprise. The elevator door started to close. They let it go without taking notice; all three standing and fidgeting with the moment, trying to get into a more relaxed posture.
“….Well,” blurted Vic, “can I invite you two over for a drink or something?”
He could not take his eyes off his new neighbor’s tastefully made up features. With bright red, pouting lips and deep set, blue tinted eyes, her gorgeous facial effect framed perfectly and invitingly by the cape’s hood. A look down at her shoes and calves swelled his curiosity.
Marnie smiled gleefully at Vic’s blatant ignorance of her presence, and decided right then and there to do a number on him as soon as possible.
“Sabrina’s got an appointment, but I’d love to.”
Vic jumped at the opportunity to keep the Bree connection open by settling for second best.
'For now'...“Great. I hope we meet again, Sabrina Covington.”
She said nothing while Marnie go closer to Vic’s disappointment.
“You don’t mind if I beg off, do you, Sabrina darling?”
Bree smiled nervously.
“No, not at all; go ahead; I will make your apologies to…uh…the girls.”
Marnie took hold of Vic’s arm and quickly steered him around and back down the hall.
“…So, how have you been, stranger?”
Vic stared back at Sabrina, hungrily. Covington hesitated a tenuous second or three to collect herself, breathing deeply before turning and heading for my apartment without looking back.
‘This is absolutely the most outrageous and exciting thing I have ever done in my entire life.’
And Vic thought, ‘The girls? What girls?’
Bree’s steps were slow and deliberate. A brief eternity went by. She heard Vic’s door slam, and sighed with relief.
‘She’s something else,’
The elevator door opened, but no one got off; only she didn’t know that.
I was in the living room when Damsel Bree pressed her nose against my doorbell button. The cape was zippered to the neck; the hood draped gracefully about her hair and shoulders. She took another deep breath and writhed excitedly in her ropes, halfheartedly hoping nothing too unexpected would happen next. A glance down the hall eased her composure somewhat when she discovered it was still empty.
I opened the door slowly, dressed in nothing but my tightest fitting tan cords. We checked each other out for a few tantalizing seconds, enjoying the moment as only lovers can. My first words were prerecorded.
“I’m pleased you decided to accept my invitation,” I smiled as I looked for Marnie.
‘Will she ever learn?’
“Come in, please.”
Sabrina also looked, but said nothing. We exchanged concerned glances. She glided into the apartment and waited on my next direction.
“Nice place you’ve got here.”
We both chuckled happily, but somewhat uncomfortably.
“Thanks. Make yourself at home.”
We were electrified with kinky love. After closing the door, I turned to her, and she to me. Our lips came together like static electricity and lint; mine being the lint. I gripped her shoulders and arms as I gently drew her to me. My hands felt the stringent complexity of rope work through the thin, red fabric.
“Wow. What did she do to you?”
My concern was semi-genuine.
Sabrina gave me a kinky look and bent her neck to the right.
“Everything I told her to do. Aren’t you going to unzip me?”
“In a bit, my sweet, in a bit; first sit on the white hassock in the middle of the living room.”
I gave Bree a long, send-off kiss and let her go.
“You look super in red.”
She walked slowly and curiously to the white, circular-leather hassock, turned, and with some difficulty, sat. A twinge of arousal flashed back at me with the lowering of her head, the raising of her eyes, and the slight parting of Sabrina’s irresistible lips, giving me pause to believe a crotch rope had been applied to her freshly moistened crevice.
I followed close behind with ropes in hand, kneeling to the task of binding Bree’s legs together at the ankles, calves, and lower thighs with three lengths of 3/8ths nylon rope.
“Is that TV camera turned on?” she wondered aloud. Her delivery was decidedly playful.
I looked up from the ropes and into Sabrina’s trusting eyes.
“Only if you want it to be.”
I finished up while she turned the answer over in her severely distracted thinking.
“My first gift to you,” she offered, in deference to the video wrinkle, as another rush of blood inundated Sabrina’s groin and she completely let go of all self-control.
‘Another first,’ she thought with glee.
“Stand up,” I said, while taking her shoulders in hand. We kissed on the way up and got into some serious grinding. Her breasts felt odd against my chest. “What’s going on under there?” I asked between kisses.
She flashed me a seductive smile.
“I’m amazed you haven’t looked yet.” I heard something drop on the floor behind her.
“I want s’more,” she purred.
It was the chloroform bottle.
“You are truly a damsel after my own heart, Sabrina Covington.” I stepped back a few inches and slowly unzipped the cape without looking too hard at what was underneath. Bree watched with surprise as I placed the white-plastic bottle on the lamp table.
“I love you, John.”
No woman had ever said that to me quite the same way.
I took the top of the cape into my hands with two, tight-fisted grips and did my Bogart.
“And don’t you forget it, kid.”
We smiled softly.
Sabrina’s lips pressed into mine; our tongues groped and prodded in all directions. She writhed ecstatically in her ropes, but I refused her more than just mouth-to-mouth consummation, stepping back and reaching into my bag while Bree did her best to maintain her own balance in bondage.
“You’d better sit down before you fall down.”
She did, and immediately felt the pressure of ball gag invading her moist, red lips. It was big and red and fit perfectly into Sabrina’s gaping sexiness. I tightened the strap to the max, walked to the camcorder, and turned things on.
“When you hear the music, I want you to do your best to lose the cape, slowly, without getting up from the hassock. Then do a slow, 360 degree turn so we can see just how tied up you are.
She lowered her head. I punched up a cut befitting the occasion: Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love.”
‘I love it,’ thought Sabrina with a silent chuckle. ‘I absolutely love it.’
Of course, the only way she could lose the cape was to twist and writhe in an attempt at escape, making it look as if it came off without her wanting it to.
‘I adore how he makes me make love to him.’
I faded up from a black frame…She slowly raised her head and launched herself into an escape attempt.
And I thought, ‘What a trooper.’
The camcorder stood atop a tripod. I got behind it, watching and touching myself in profound awe of what Sabrina was doing to lose the cape, while turning slowly around the hassock. When she’d done 180 degrees of maneuvering, the bright-red garment fell from her shoulders and down around the white-leather pedestal, revealing the bind into which she’d instructed Marnie to place her.
Her back was now to the camera, revealing that every inch of Sabrina’s arms was circled tightly with weather-worn clothesline, right up to the crack in her armpits. She’d removed the nail gloss to show off the natural beauty of her long, perfectly manicured hands, which she was keeping in a constant state damsel-in-distress reflection.
Instead of a bra, Bree’s full, firm breasts were supported by an ingeniously designed three-eighth-inch thick rope configuration, which complimented and punctuated every delicious extremity to the max. Her wrists, unlike the coffee table bind, were crossed, and not connected to a crotch rope. Instead, three circles of quarter inch nylon around her waistline and forearms, knotted at the pinch point in the small of her back, along with several turns of thick rope around her upper body, kept Bree’s bound arms tightly pinned to her torso.
Instead of panties, Sabrina’s groin was dressed in tightly fitted, shiny-nylon line.
‘Now that’s what I call the quintessential 'string' Bikini.’
She was facing the camera now, so I slow zoomed in for a close-up of its ingenious design and panned up slowly to Sabrina’s breasts and face. Her look prompted an obvious thought.
‘Move over, Gwendolyn, here comes Sabrina Covington.’
Slowly and painstakingly, she fought against the ropes as she turned on the hassock, pulling and tugging at every foot of line, every knot, every circle of unrelenting pressure until the realization of Marnie’s and her inescapable handiwork caught up with the reality of Sabrina’s obsession, sending her exquisite figure into an uncontrollable, hysterical frenzy of spasmodic conclusion.
What else could I think?
The music ended with her.
I faded out the frame, turned off the camera, and sat on the couch to wait for my woman to join me. She raised her head and scoped the room. My cords were bulging with appreciation. Her body language and eye contact pleaded to be released, posing and twitching the way she knew I wanted her to.
“Unuhuhu,” she groaned.
“God, but you are a beauty.”
Sabrina blushed and watched me reach for the knock-out juice, her eyes wide with deliberation. Quickly, she stood and hopped the few feet to the couch, plopping next to me and motioning to have the ball gag removed.
I took her ponytail into my hand and pinned her head back on a throw pillow.
“You are, by far, the most captivating and desirable bondage maniac I’ve ever come across. How would you like to be kidnapped for real? I’ve got a hideaway in the mountains, and the fridge and pantry are stocked with a month’s worth of provisions.”
I scanned her long, helpless body hungrily, while she considered the proposal. She kicked off the pumps and waited for my eyes to reach hers. They didn’t.
We did, whereupon I lifted her into my arms, kissed her passionately on the neck, and carried her out of the living room, down the hallway and into the bedroom, where I tossed her onto the mattress of my four-poster, brass bed and removed the gag.
‘He’s got one too,’ she noticed.
Her first words were, “I want your cock in my mouth. I want to make love to your erection while I’m like this. Okay?”
“Okay.” (What else could I say?) “But first, let’s tie up all those loose ends. Okay?”
“Okay.” (What else could she say?) “And you can kidnap me anytime, for as long as you like.”
I knotted a line to the ankle cinch and threaded the other end under the torso circles just below her neck. After pulling out the slack, I gave her another choice.
Sabrina felt her lower legs rise from the mattress as the tension in both the calve and thigh circles increased. She let me pull out every last milometer of slack until her bare feet could go back no further. I kept the tension constant with my right hand and threaded the line between her forearms and under the back of the four circles of crotch rope at the base of her spine, pulling it through until the entire pattern went taught.
“Oh, how I love the way you think, John.”
I knotted things off, jumped from the bed, and left the room, leaving Bree to her choices. The rope bra pinched and squashed every square inch of her firm mounds, bringing new heights of stringent pressure to underarms and groin.
And Sabrina thought, ‘So this is bondage heaven.’
A phone call to Marnie bore no fruit.
‘Wait till I get my hands on that little nymph.’
While reflecting on her whereabouts, I hung up and walked slowly down the hall and into the bedroom. Sabrina was locked into an euphoric fit, suspended in her own little world of fantasy fulfillment and time/space obliviousness. She sensed my presence, opened her eyes a bit, and smiled deliriously.
I dryly asked, “Would you happen to know Marnie’s current location?”
“…Who wants to know?” she quipped while lowering her hungry gaze to the bulge in my pants.
“The faster you tell me, the faster you’ll have my cock in your mouth.”
“She’s hanging out with some guy named Vic. He lives on this floor. They…”
I left the room and closed the door.
After seeing it was me on caller ID, Marnie picked up Vic’s phone on the third ring.
“Can you spare a minute?”
“At my place, right now.”
My anger was well hidden.
Marnie hung up the phone and turned to Vic, who was on the floor of his living room, naked and inescapably hogtied with several of his own neckties and belts. The fix was especially and viciously stringent.
“Be right back,” she assured, before jumping up from the couch, throwing on a robe, and dashing for the door.
“I love the way you look at me, honey, like I was Sabrina. If I’m not back in a few hours, start without me.”
Vic had been semi-willingly pleasuring Marnie’s pussy with his mouth when the phone call interrupted her vengeful satisfaction.
Things had been moving faster than they had in weeks.
‘Something must be shaking along the kink continuum,’ I figured as I put the pitcher of lemonade I’d made the night before back into the fridge.
Marnie was still in borrowed jeans and top. I opened the door just as she raised her right fist to knock.
‘There he goes again,’ she wondered with respectful surprise.
“Hi, come in,” I smiled with a knowing look.
‘How does he know all the time?’ she pondered. ‘Maybe he’s psychic or something.’
She walked in comfortably and very relaxed, and headed for the couch, where she sat in her usual slot on the right and got into the lazy man’s lotus position.
“What’s up, champ? Is the damsel too much for you to handle?”
She couldn’t wait to get back to Vic.
I sat down next to her, with lemonade in hand, and whispered seriously, “I want you to tie me up for Sabrina,” before gulping down half the glass.
Her astonishment was dumbfounding.
“Really? Uh, you mean, right now?”
My put-on impatience percolated with sexual uneasiness, or so she thought.
Marnie’s eyes did their best to hide her overloaded synaptic activity, but their best wasn’t good enough to shroud her obvious lack of masterful experience.
“You know what she likes. Just make sure I can get to the bedroom without too much effort.”
“Gotchy’a. Any lemonade left?”
“In the fridge. Help yourself while I get down to my briefs, and hurry.”
“Right,” she popped as she headed for the next wrinkle in the day’s outcomes.
As she poured her beverage, Marnie thought, ‘How worth it IS it to cross John.’
While gulping it down, she headed for the gear closet in the hallway and selected a 200-foot skein of 3/8ths nylon, a few shorter lengths of quarter-inch, and started putting together a bind in her head. Several came to mind, and had been since we’d known each other.
‘Well, it’s about fucking time. I’ll do him on the hassock. Boy, are THEY in for a surprise.’
She quickly undid the skein and grabbed a ten-footer for my elbows while I sat on the couch in my briefs, watching with arms crossed in front of me. Her empty glass sat on the lamp table.
‘Hook, line and sinker.’
Marnie did her best to fashion a slip knot, but kept losing her concentration.
‘Gotta keep a clear head,’ she blinked as the fast acting potion raced through her bloodstream. ‘Why am I all-of-a-sudden kneeling?’
She fell onto the hassock (‘Oh-shit.’) and passed out.
Twenty Or So Minutes Later
I bound her naked; arms behind her back; thighs and ankles together, kneeling on the white-leather hassock in front of the couch. The 200-foot skein kept her chin pressed to Marnie’s shiny knees by inflexibly squashing everything else in the ball bind. Her heels dug deep into her ass cheeks. I didn’t tie her to the hassock, figuring it would make things more interesting for the camera. Natural sponge stuffing and several very tight turns of Elastoplast would keep her well silenced when the mind-blowing moment of her awakening dawned on Marnie’s incredulity.
When that moment arrived, she’d see the note on the floor, spelling things out in big, bold letters: “NEVER LEAVE A DELIVERY UNATTENDED EN ROUTE.”
‘That should quicken her juices a bit.’
When I entered the bedroom in nothing but my briefs bulging with anticipation, Sabrina smiled fuzzily and thought, ‘Oh-my-God, he must be huge.’
“Now, where were we?”
And Vic thought, just after giving up on his hogtie, ‘John did warn me about Marnie’s bent.’
And I thought, ‘Why didn't HE pick up the phone? That’s not like him.’
It was then I put two and two together and decided to make sure Vic had heeded my warning.
“Oh, shoot,” I play acted. “I must make an appointment canceling call. Be right back.”
“Oh, Johnny, I can’t take much more of this. Hurry.”
Her disappointment was intense, but my instincts waxed even more intense, especially where Marnie was concerned. So I left Bree to her fit, grabbed my robe, and headed for Vic’s apartment.
Several Minutes Later
Marnie woke up quickly.
I’d purposely left the bedroom door open. Sabrina looked up from her mouthful. I smiled and motioned to keep silent.
“MMMMUHUHUH!” screamed Marnie at the beginning of one of the most incredibly spontaneous multiples of her life. The thought of Vic’s dilemma engendered a new respect for her should’a-known-better stupidity. “MUHMUHMUHMUH!!!”
Sabrina felt her mouth fill with the heat of my passion. We exploded together to the sounds of Marnie’s medley of enthusiastic regrets. I watched as Bree gave the bind one last mega-struggle, committing what was left of her energy to the satisfactions of the moment.
“Oh,” I quipped, “Forgot to tell you. Marnie is tied up in the living room.”
Meanwhile, on the hassock, my self-indulgent consort looked up at the clock on the wall to ‘discover’ that three-hours had gone by since she’d left Vic to his hogtie.
What she didn’t know, though, was that I’d reset the clock to make her think it had been that long.
Fourteen Minutes Later
We sat on the couch; watching and listening to Marnie writhe and scream. Sabrina wore her borrowed jeans and top, with me in my cords and long-sleeved, white dress shirt.
“Shall we?” I suggested.
I undid the gag and listened to the voice of fearful recrimination.
“I left Vic tied up before I came over here,” blurted Marnie when the sponge came out.
Sabrina and I sat back, stone-faced.
“NO! I did, REALLY.”
I turned to face my lover. She did the same, and we both said, “Sure-she-did.”
“No, I mean it. I tied him up, and he’s been like that since just before you called. And I know he can’t get out…John?... DO something.”
I replaced the sponge and tied it in with some rope while Sabrina worked the ball bind ropes. We undid everything but the wrist and elbow cinches. We then draped the cape around Marnie’s impatience and zipped it to the nose.
“Put on the heels,” I ordered, with a twist of apathy in my ‘unbelieving’ tone.
Marnie picked up on what was about to happen and decided not to protest.
What else could she do?
‘Okay…Okay…Right,’ thought my ex bondage consort/subbie as she slipped into the sky highs.
She was nuts with reproach.
Sabrina stayed behind while I walked my charge to Vic’s place, where we had our last chat of the day.
“Funny, how things work out,” I perceived. “If he’s in there, tied up like you said, I’ll free you and split. But if he answers the door, I never want you to call me again. From then on, I will do all the calling, if I so chose. Nor do I want you to contact Bree unless she contacts you first. Got that?”
Marnie stared deeply into my resolve and thought, ‘There was no way Vic could have gotten out of that fix.’ But, based on our history, she also thought, ‘Why do I get the feeling there’s more going on here than meets the eye? And why isn’t he whispering? And…’
Marnie squirmed in her cinches as her groin flushed with throbbing moisture and her eyes blinked a few times.
‘My cake and eat it too.’
She nodded a ‘yes.’
“You’ve been a lousy trainee, missy.” I scolded. “But I bless you for steering Sabrina my way. For that I will be eternally grateful. If you’re ever in a tight fix, you can surely count on us, but don’t call unless we do.”
I was Academy Award material. She watched me reach for the doorknob while kissing her on the forehead.
“It’s locked, Marnie dear,” I said as I pulled a few lengths of rope out of my gear bag and bound her ankles and calves together.
‘But I left it unlocked,’ she recalled while watching me between incredulous glances down the hallway.
I gave the door three hard knocks, slung the gear bag over Marnie’s shoulders, turned, and walked slowly back to my apartment, without saying anything or looking back.
Marnie made two very tight fists and watched in fear and amazement as the possibilities brought another inundation of erotic arousal to her groin.
‘What the FUCK is going on here!’
Meanwhile, Sabrina found the ‘Taunted Bound’ DVD and cued it up as she planned on how to go about chloroforming and tying me, spread-eagle, to my four-poster.
And Vic counted to thirty before opening his door, just as I slammed mine, hard, behind me.
“Where have you been, love,” jested Sabrina before gulping down the last of her lemonade.
And Marnie thought, ‘Not AGAIN!’ as Vic took a fistful of upper body zipper and garment and pulled his new girlfriend into the beginning of yet another lesson in the fine art of bondage and discipline.
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