A Wellness Day


By Rayron D’Olier





All her life, Ginger had seen TV shows, cartoons, movies and funny papers where the heroine had been tied up, gagged and left alone by a burglar. Many was the time she had seen the situation played for laughs – in fact most of the time it seemed the bound and gagged woman had been presented in a humorous light, except in certain scenarios where the woman was held for ransom – or worse – and was awaiting the hero. But so often, the bound and gagged woman would be shown angrily mmmphing and struggling and finally being rescued – with her rescuers offering as much wisecrackery as sympathy – sometimes even refusing to untie her until she kissed him or agreed to marry him or something.


Ginger couldn’t help but ruminate on this as she now found herself in exactly the same fix as all those fictional female captives. To her utter amazement, Ginger was bound hand and foot, gagged and unsure how to feel about it or what to do with all the time she now had on her hands. All she knew was that actually being tied and gagged felt quite different than she might have expected had she given the prospect any real thought.


Ginger was 37 years old. She had dark brown hair, greenish-gray eyes, round cheeks and chin, a button nose and a wide mouth with thin lips. Her hair was cut in a pageboy that fell halfway down her neck and curled forward. Today she had let her bangs fall forward and the rest of her hair was held back with a tortoise-shell hair band.


Ginger was five feet, five inches tall and had a curvy, but taut figure. She also had rather large breasts. Her legs were well defined and her hands and feet were extremely graceful and cute – her friends had always exclaimed that she had “cute feet.”


On the day in question, Ginger had prepared to go to work by dressing in a mid-calf skirt made of rather thin linen that caused the skirt to cling to her in a most flattering manner. The skirt was made of an orange, white and red floral pattern. Over this she wore a white linen blouse that buttoned down the front and was cut like a vest so that the top of her skirt was covered. The blouse had almost full sleeves and she had left the top three buttons undone. Because it was a chilly day in the early Fall, she had a pale orange sweater over her blouse. Her shoes were not really shoes at all. She had slipped her bare feet into sandals that were held on only by a criss-crossing of thin straps around her toes. The sandals were black leather and had one-inch spiked heels. To enhance the effect of such a minimal pair of shoes, Ginger had painted her toenails a pinkish/orange that complemented her skirt and sweater. It was a flattering and comfortable outfit for a day that should have been spent at her office where she was a financial advisor.


She had had no appointments this day and had planned to do any number of other things at the office that she had been putting off until she could arrange for a Friday with no one to advise. The busy day she had planned had now been completely derailed and would, it seemed, be spent in idleness because at 10 a.m. she was sitting in her bedroom in a comfortable, overstuffed chair tied up with soft, white, cotton rope and gagged with one of her longest white nylon scarves.


Ginger had only been tied up for about an hour, but for the thousandth time she looked down at her body and marveled at her predicament. Her wrists were crossed behind her and held firmly together with what felt like a solid band of soft cotton. She had felt her assailant wrap the rope in several directions and then knot it where she certainly hadn’t been able to reach it. She could feel the loose ends of the rope occasionally, but her fingers couldn’t find the knot. Her feet were tied together at her ankles and there she could easily see what had been done. The rope had been wrapped several times around both ankles and then wrapped again a couple of times between her ankles. The knot was in front. That rope also felt like a very soft, but unyielding, solid band of cotton. Ginger could move her hands to her side and see that they were tied in much the same way, but she still couldn’t see the knot. The nylon scarf was wrapped many, many times between her teeth and Ginger couldn’t touch them together. It was knotted tightly behind her neck.


It seemed inconceivable to Ginger that two pieces of rope should render her so utterly helpless, but she had finally become reconciled to the fact that there was no wriggling out of them. The ropes weren’t tight enough to hurt, but they were snug and offered little slack. Ginger had never been physically helpless before and was surprised to find that she wasn’t particularly frightened. She still thought she could get loose with a little ingenuity and as soon as the burglars left she was confidant she could get loose in no time. She could still hear the burglars in the room below her bedroom, which was her home office. She had shared this office with her husband before he made his final departure out of her life a year ago.


Ginger sat in the chair where the burglars had left her an hour ago. She was slouched back on her shoulders so as not to press too much on her arms and hands and her legs were spread apart beneath her long, flowing skirt until they were forced to come together at her bound ankles. For some reason, Ginger had been careful to keep her sandals on. It was almost as if she would feel naked without them. She found that having ropes put on her by complete strangers had made her feel violated and vulnerable and although she would normally kick off her shoes whenever she was sitting down and relaxing, this situation didn’t seem to apply. She started automatically to kick them off several times, but had stopped herself. She was keenly aware of all kinds of details that would have normally meant nothing and the importance of keeping her sandals on was one of them. Her hearing also had seemed to become much more acute since being tied. It was a typically quiet weekday morning in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town and yet there seemed to be a veritable riot of noise outside the house, most of it having to do with dogs, lawn mowers, chainsaws, birds, airliners and the occasional swooshing of a car passing by.


She kept running the events of the day through her mind and thought that, for as early as it still was, it had been an extremely eventful day indeed.


She had barely finished getting dressed for work at about 8:30 a.m. when the doorbell rang. She went to the door and upon opening it saw a young couple. The man looked like a blonde Marine except that he was wearing an expensive black business suit. The woman was likewise in business attire. She was wearing a rust-colored tweed skirt with a black belt, a pink button-down blouse and a jacket that matched her skirt. She had on natural color hose with brown, suede high heels that had some kind of complicated fringe over her toes. She was about Ginger’s height, but was thinner and had long straight blonde hair. Her first thought was that they were religious proselytizers. They were in their late twenties it appeared.


Ginger said, “Can I help you?”


Ginger had difficulty processing what she heard next. The man said, “We’re not going to hurt you, but you’re going to let us in and you’re going to do exactly what we tell you to do. We have guns.” At this point the woman pulled a gun about halfway out of her purse and held it there for Ginger to see. The woman smiled apologetically. The man smiled like a car salesman.


Ginger tried to slam the door in their faces, but they were ready for this and all that happened was that the door bounced off the man as he was halfway through the doorjamb. Ginger tried to run down the hall to the back of the house, but she didn’t get far before she felt the man grab her around the body with one arm and put his hand over her mouth with the other. Ginger hadn’t been so frightened since she had had her ears pierced when she was twelve.


“Now listen carefully. Are you listening? Women don’t always listen so well. Nod your head so I know you’re listening.”


Ginger nodded her head.


“Great. Now my friend and I are not going to hurt you. We have to steal something out of your house and we might need your help. Let me repeat that nothing very bad is going to happen to you. I promise. Do you understand?”


Ginger nodded her head. She also felt a little better.


“The one bad thing that will happen to you is that we’re going to have to tie you up while we go about our business here. It won’t hurt and we won’t take advantage of you, but it won’t do you any good to struggle. Now let me feel you relax and by the end of the day this will all be over and you’ll be none the worse for it. OK? Now I’m going to let go of you. I want you to cross your hands behind your back and let me tie them, all right?”


The man’s voice sounded firm but strangely reassuring. Ginger nodded her head. The man let her go and Ginger did as she had been told to do and crossed her hands behind her. What happened next felt very strange indeed. She felt the rope wrapping around her wrists and then she felt the man pull everything snug and when she felt him tie the knot, Ginger was surprised to find that what should have been a very frightening signal that she was now bound and helpless actually made her instantly relaxed and accepting of the situation. What happened now was out of her hands – her very tightly bound hands.


When Ginger felt the man’s hands let go of her, she stood where she was, only twisting against the ropes a little in order to reposition her hands a bit and assess how it all felt to have her hands tied behind her.


Then she turned around and hoping that her voice wouldn’t betray her said, “Now what is it you want and how can I get you out of here as soon as possible?”


The man was the only person in sight and he said, “Ah, you’re a cool customer. I like that. First we need to know where all your husband’s records are kept. Are there file cabinets? Is there a computer? We need to see everything?”


“What are you, from the IRS or something? He hasn’t even lived here in a year.”


“I’m proud to say that we’re not the IRS. I freely admit that we’re criminals, but we’re not that bad. Actually, we’re not going to be able to tell you who we are or what we want, but we think your husband still has things here that we must have. Am I wrong?”


Ginger had never had a conversation with her hands tied behind her before and her hands kept trying to come from behind her back and gesture. To have her hands bound gave new meaning to the term “didn’t know what to do with her hands.” It made her upper body squirm and twist, but the man showed no sign that he was even aware that she was at such a disadvantage. It was as if he had forgotten he had tied her hands. It was all just part of a day’s work to him it seemed.


“My FORMER husband’s computer is still here, there is a file cabinet and there are some boxes in the basement that he has still not seen fit to have removed. I haven’t heard from him since the divorce was final about a year ago so I don’t know where he is or what’s in the files. His computer disk has been erased.”


“Well, we know where he is and we know what should be here in this house. All we need you to do is show us where everything is and we can get to work sorting through it.”


“And you have to tie me up to do that?”


“Maybe not, but nevertheless you will stay tied up. We can’t watch you and we won’t have you watching us. So lead the way. Give us the tour of your lovely home. I’ll open the doors for you. First the basement. After you.”


Ginger walked down the hall to the door that opened onto the basement stairs. She found herself thinking that it was a strange feeling to be able to talk and walk, but to be denied the use of her hands. She stood at the basement door and waited and sure enough, the man opened the door for her and gestured that she should lead the way.


As Ginger descended the stairs, her hands automatically reached for the banister and wriggled behind when they found that they were held fast behind her back. It felt as if there was now a disconnect between her mind and body caused by the rope around her wrists. Ginger was surprised at how unbalanced she felt on the stairs merely because her hands were tied behind her and in her rather slippery and impractical shoes, she was careful to place each of her steps deliberately. She made a clumsy clicking noise as she descended and was relieved to negotiate all the steps without having to be helped.


When her foot hit the carpeted floor of the basement, she indicated with a nod of her head that the row of boxes along the wall were those filled with her former husband’s belongings.


“So all these boxes are his, right?”


“That’s right.”


“Now where?”


“I’ll show you the office.”


As she ascended the stairs, Ginger had to lean forward and make an unaccustomed effort in climbing them. She had never realized how much her hands and arms had helped in climbing stairs either by grabbing the banister or by simply swinging back and forth. She felt terribly awkward.


She led the man further down the hall to the back of the house where she and her husband had turned a guest bedroom into a home office. She pointed out, by nods of her head, which were his computer and his file cabinet.


The man rubbed his hands together and yelled out, “Sweetie! We’re back here!”


He smiled at Ginger and Ginger heard the clicking of heels as the man’s friend approached the office. She entered and appeared to wait for instructions.


“Dearest, would you please make our hostess more comfortable upstairs and then join me back down here?”


“OK. Come with me sweetie. Let’s get you upstairs.”


Ginger stood there looking confused and the woman walked over and grabbed her by the upper arm and guided her out of the office, down the hall, up the stairs and then asked where her bedroom was. Ginger said, “At the back of the hall to the left.”


The woman gave Ginger a gentle shove in the direction indicated and they entered Ginger’s bedroom. For the first time Ginger noticed the woman had a length of rope in her hand.


The woman looked around the room and said, “Would you rather lie down or sit in that chair?”


“Why do you ask?”


“I’m going to tie your feet, so you’ll need to decide where you’d like to be. Where would you be most comfortable?”


“I don’t suppose I could talk you out of that.”


“No, I’ve got to tie your feet. You might get away if I didn’t. You look like you could run really fast and we don’t want to have to worry about that. OK? I’m sorry.”


Ginger rolled her eyes and sat in a large leather chair that was by a window that overlooked her backyard. The woman bent down on her knees and positioned Ginger’s feet together just so and Ginger watched as she wrapped most of the rope around both ankles, wrapped a few turns between her ankles around the rope and then pulled the ropes snug and tied a knot right on top and in the middle. In spite of herself, Ginger thought that it was very neatly done. When she was finished, the woman said, “You’ve got really cute feet and I love those shoes.”


Then the woman went about the room pulling out drawers and rummaging through them. Ginger watched and was fascinated by the woman’s freedom of movement that so contrasted with her own immobility. Ginger pulled and pushed against the rope around her ankles and was a little shocked at how it felt to realize that she could no longer walk.


“You’ve got a really nice house here. Did you buy it or did you get from your husband?”


“That’s none of your business.”


“I know, but I just wanted to know if you had a good enough job to have a house like this. My friend and I almost have enough money to buy a house, but it won’t be as nice as this one unless we can rip off your husband. Oh, by the way, when we deal with your husband, you’ll be getting a lot of money after that. I’m supposed to let you know. You might want to think twice about calling the police. If we get caught, you won’t get anything, but if we’re able to pull off this job, you’ll tons and tons of money… more than we will.”


“What are you talking about?”


“We can’t tell you. It’ll just happen unless you tell. All you have to do to get the money is keep your mouth shut and act like none of this has ever happened and you won’t have to work again if you don’t want to.”


As this conversation continued, Ginger had twisted around to watch the woman violate her dresser and her closet and then the woman approached with one of Ginger’s longest nylon scarves in her hand.


“OK. Open wide.”


“What the hell do you mean?”


“Oh, I’ve got to gag you too. Don’t worry, I know how.”


“Oh, I’m so relieved.”


“C’mon now. You can’t really stop me since you’re all tied up so you might as well just let me do it. Open wide. Ahhhhh.”


Ginger let it happen. She opened her mouth and the woman placed the middle of the scarf deep between her teeth and then wrapped it around her head and between her teeth in both directions until Ginger’s mouth was about as full as it could be. Then Ginger felt the woman pull the scarf tight and tie it behind her neck. Then the woman pulled Ginger’s hair out from beneath the scarf and neatly arrange it.


“There. That’s not too bad. Just sit still and relax and we’ll let you know what’s going to happen next.”


Ginger watched as the woman left the room and shut the door behind her. It seemed so unfair that the woman should be free to come and go as she liked and Ginger had to sit in a chair, bound hand and foot.


Once left alone, Ginger felt that she ought to be able to move however she liked. Not being watched seemed to indicate to Ginger that she was no longer under the control of anyone, so she struggled furiously for a moment. She was fooled by the fact that the ropes didn’t seem too tight and didn’t hurt, so she thought she could pull her hands and feet out of them. But the more she struggled, the tighter the ropes seemed to become, so finally she relaxed and to her relief so did the ropes.


Ginger found it so strange to be in the midst of all her familiar surroundings and have them appear so unfamiliar because she could no longer touch them or even walk over to them. The dramas with bound heroines hadn’t prepared her for the altered perceptions that being tied up and gagged imposed upon her. There was her hairbrush which she couldn’t use. There was her closet, full of clothes and shoes, which she couldn’t put on. There was the lamp by her bed, which she couldn’t turn off or on. There were magazines she couldn’t read. The radio she couldn’t turn on. For that matter, there were the clothes she wore. She couldn’t button the top three buttons on her blouse. She couldn’t smooth her skirt. She could kick off her shoes, but she didn’t want to. Ginger ended by just looking around the room until her attention was drawn to the window next to her chair. By leaning over she could see into her backyard, and because she was in a second-story room, she could see some of her neighbors’ backyards also.


Since it was a Friday morning, there was no one around, but there were squirrels and birds everywhere. If she had had the day off and not been bound and gagged, she would have been in jeans and t-shirt in the backyard having coffee and looking at them. A bird landed on the windowsill and looked right at Ginger. The bird wasn’t moved by the sight of a lovely gagged face and merely did what it always did. It preened a bit and then flew away. Many yards away in a window of her back neighbor’s house, Ginger saw the woman of the house making up a bed. The woman, whose name was Erin was a friend of Ginger’s and she envied her friend’s freedom of movement. She thought about trying to cry out, but the window was closed and Ginger was afraid the burglars would hear her. The woman was less than fifty yards away, but she might as well have been a mile away.


Ginger was not one to stay still for long without at least something to read and she found herself struggling against the ropes in spite of herself. She lifted her legs out in front of her and saw her smooth shapely legs and manicured, painted toenails. She pulled with one leg against the ropes while keeping one leg extended and saw that there was no way that even her dainty little feet would slip through the bonds.


She let her feet fall back on the floor and finally gave in to the inevitable and slipped her feet out of her sandals. She instantly felt vulnerable, but didn’t really care. Ginger looked around her incessantly, but was beginning to understand that for lack of anything else to do, she was beginning to travel deep into her own mind. She began to think about her goddamn husband who was obviously the cause of her being held a bound and gagged captive in her own house.


Her husband, Al, had been a college sweetheart and they had married in their junior year. Marriage didn’t change their lives much. They continued to party hard and work hard as if they were just dating. Starting a family hadn’t really entered their minds. They were like two ambitious, independent souls who happened to live together. They had both had affairs and had hotly denied it when the other suspected. They had both been wildly successful and were living in a huge house in the most expensive neighborhood in town when Al began to disappear for days on end. When Ginger demanded an explanation, Al would simply refuse to tell her. She assumed he was staying with another woman and instituted divorce proceedings. When she did so, Al simply moved out and lived in a hotel. Once the divorce was finalized, he moved about half of his personal possessions out and then vanished into thin air.


Ginger didn’t know what to think. He had left behind the files and the computer that were now being scrutinized by her captors. Ginger had looked through them and found that the computer disk had been erased. The files were just bank statements and spreadsheets from various investments. Al was in banking and his filing was impeccable, but he didn’t seem to feel that he needed his files any longer. Ginger suspected that he had somehow become involved in criminal activity (she suspected embezzlement) and that he had squirreled away a fortune somewhere and then gone off to spend it. He had certainly been generous with her. Everything they owned together, he had just signed over without a question or comment. Ginger was almost wealthy enough to retire and she wasn’t even 40. But she reflected that she had made a very bad choice of a husband. Her only sexual happiness after their first couple of years had been with other men and even that had been somewhat unadventurous and superficial.


Ginger assumed that the people in her house that had tied her up were victims of her husband, or had been hired by those he had stolen from, and were there to track down the paper trail and figure out where he had gone and how to get back whatever he stole. She was a little afraid that they wouldn’t find what they wanted and expect her to give them information she didn’t have. As this thought first entered her head, Ginger really understood that a couple of ropes were holding her body completely helpless and at the mercy of two total strangers – strangers who might be much worse than they represented themselves to be. To be forced to sit and remain silent under those circumstances was too much to bear and Ginger finally decided that she must do something to escape. Apart from a sudden sense of urgency that she do something, Ginger felt that she had nothing to lose. She didn’t like being tied up and gagged by a couple of burglars.


Going thought again about bound and gagged heroines in dramatic situations and what they did to try to escape. Some just sat there and struggled and wept, but that wasn’t Ginger’s style. Ginger thought of the damsels that hopped around and tried to find something to cut the ropes with or tried to attract attention to themselves. Ginger leaned forward in her chair and after rocking back and forth a couple of times was able to rise to her feet. The rope around her ankles seemed to tighten perceptibly, but not painfully. She rose up on her toes and hopped forward, finding it not terribly difficult. But she did have to be reminded that she couldn’t use her hands and arms for balance. They had wriggled around behind her in an attempt to help with Ginger’s hopping. “Don’t forget that you have to forget about relying on your hands,” Ginger said inwardly.


Ginger looked around the room which was now her entire universe and thought about her next move. She decided to hop to the window and see if she could attract any attention. There would be her friend Erin perhaps and there might be others as the morning progressed and more of the stay at home people ventured outside or opened their blinds and curtains.


She put this plan in motion and hopped the few feet to the window by her former seat and stood there. After a moment’s reflection, she hopped around to present her side to the window so that any observer could see her bound hands as well as her gagged mouth. Ginger suffered from a spasm of desperation as she saw that her friend Erin was still passing across her upstairs window as she went about some activity. Ginger was desperate to call out or gesture with her hands, but realized the futility of such a thing until Erin might actually look out the window. Ginger waited with rising anticipation for Erin to come to the window and look out. She tried to will her to do so and was saying, “Come on, come on. Come to the window goddamit.” Ginger was actually growling this under her breath and the gag made it come out as, “om on, om, on. Om oo uh imbow.” Once again Ginger was taken aback entirely by this further evidence of her helplessness. She could still make a muffled noise, but the gag made her almost totally incoherent. Ginger’s eyes were locked on Erin’s window and she was poised to wriggle around and wave her bound hands as soon as Erin peered out – if she did.


Then it happened. Erin walked right up to the window and began putting her hair up in a ponytail while looking around. Ginger began frantically bouncing up and down and waving her bound hands behind her. After what seemed like an eternity, Erin suddenly froze and looked right at Ginger. She smiled, waved and went back into the room. Ginger cursed her friend, “That stupid cow!” Ginger also almost lost her balance as she automatically tried to stamp one lovely foot in anger and frustration, forgetting for the moment that when one’s feet are tied together they can’t move independently of one another, but must operate as a unit.


She almost fell over away from the window, but by twisting her upper body she altered her weight distribution and luckily fell forward and stayed standing by wedging one shoulder against the side of the window. She pushed herself gently back to a freestanding position and looked to see Erin’s window still unoccupied. What to do next?


Then the phone rang. “It’s Erin! She wonders why I’m not at work!”


The phone in the bedroom was around the chair and all the way on the other side of the bed. It would be a long hop. Ginger instantly began her journey to the phone. As she began to hop to the phone she reminded herself to be careful and marveled at the fact that the distance that would normally take her a matter of seconds to cover now would take two or three times as long. She began planning what she would do as she bounced around the room. She would pick up the hand piece, throw it on the bed, lean over and regardless of the gag, try to make herself understood as well as possible. Surely Erin would notice there was something wrong with the way she was talking and get a damned clue.


The phone was set to ring four times before the answering machine picked up and it rang the third time as Ginger was rounding the foot of the bed. She stepped up her pace a bit and arrived at the bedside table just as the phone rang for the fourth time. She hopped around so she could grab the phone with her hands, picked it up and threw it on the bed. She bent over the phone and was devastated to hear nothing more than a dial tone. Since Erin always left a message it could only be that the burglars had picked up the phone and hung it up. “Maybe this is better. Instead of risking the burglars overhearing, I could call Erin.” Ginger instantly brightened up at this idea. She hopped around so she could sit on the bed by the hand piece. She twisted her bound hands to her side so she could push the hang up button, and then pushed it again. She dialed Erin’s number and let her upper body fall on the bed so her mouth would be near the phone and she could hear when Erin picked up.


The phone rang and rang. This was typical of Erin. She would frequently turn off the answering machine and, unlike most people, she enjoyed picking up all her calls. She never screened calls. Ginger began to wonder when the phone kept ringing with no answer. It must have rung twelve times at least and Ginger finally gave up. She pushed the hang up button with her nose and tried to sit up. As with everything else she tried to do while tied, sitting up was a problem. By pushing behind her with her bound hands and using her legs as a counterweight, she was able to rise to a sitting position and take stock of her situation. Why didn’t Erin answer the phone?


Then Ginger became aware of the noises the burglars were making below her and she decided that they shouldn’t find her on the bed next to the phone if they were to come upstairs. She grabbed the phone in one hand and stood up. She hopped back the way she had come before to her chair, shoved the phone out of sight between the chair’s cushion and the armrest and tried to look relaxed. All of her activity had not only been a little tiring, but had made the ropes feel tight. She also became aware that the gag in her mouth was becoming wet along her cheeks and Ginger was a little afraid of drooling. She sat very still and was happy to find that the tightness of the ropes seemed to diminish.


She also rediscovered her earlier perception that being tied up made her almost hyper-aware of the smallest details both in the room and about her body. Her bare feet were flat on the floor and Ginger found that the hard, cool wood felt very nice on the soles of her feet. She spread her knees apart to the extent that the ropes around her ankles would allow and was equally gratified at the cool air that seemed to gather beneath her skirt. She decided that she wouldn’t let her plight bother her. She would relax and think and try to think of it as an adventure. Inevitably she began again to imagine images of the fictional bound heroines she had seen in movies and TV. Which one would she be? It really depended on her captors. Would they untie her when they left or leave her to struggle and get loose on her own? Ginger didn’t allow herself to consider the idea that they might harm or kill her. They didn’t seem the type and after all, they had promised that Ginger would see a lot of money as a result of their skullduggery. But the bottom line was that Ginger’s fate was in the hands of others.


She wondered if they missed her at work. No one had called. It was at that moment that two things happened. Ginger was looking at the clock and noticed it was 10:30 a.m. As if on cue the phone began to ring and Ginger heard the clicking of high heels coming down the hall. What to do? The phone rang four times and then the door to her bedroom opened and there was the female burglar breezily entering the room. “Thank God the phone stopped ringing,” Ginger thought, “She would have heard it ringing next to my butt.”


The woman leaned against the wall where she could face Ginger and began to give a little speech. “Hello Ginger. I’ve come up here to check on you and tell you what’s about to happen. We’ve found what we need and we’re going to leave. We have to leave you tied up so you can’t immediately call the police if that’s what you want to do, but we’re not leaving you stranded. We’ve got your personal phone book and later in the day we’ll start calling people and tell them what’s happened so they can come and untie you. Let me warn you not to go hopping around. You might hurt yourself and it’s not like you have to get yourself untied. Someone will be coming for you. Also, as I said before, you’re going to see a lot of money out of this, so when you talk to the police, tell them you didn’t know who we were, what we wanted or what we even look like. It won’t matter to us, but it might matter to you when we transfer the money to you. We have to give you a certain amount because of your ex-husband’s will and the transfer will look like it’s been deposited by his foreign lawyers to your account. Even if they ask you inconvenient questions later, all you have to do is plead total ignorance and you’ll have millions even after taxes. You probably don’t know what a horrible man your ex-husband is. I doubt if you even have a clue. We might get in touch with you in the future and let you know the details, but believe me, he’s about to get what he deserves. He’s a fucking monster.”


The woman smiled at Ginger and Ginger couldn’t imagine what her own facial expression must be. She was numb, but at the same time intensely curious. She would have liked to have been ungagged so she could question this woman, but she felt shy about trying to communicate while she was rendered so absolutely incoherent so Ginger just sat there looking at the wall while the woman spoke to her.


The woman lingered and said, “I hope we can get lucky and call your boyfriend. I bet he’d love to see you all tied up and stuff. You look great. I hope I look half as good as you when my friend ties me up. Bye bye.”


The woman said these last words as she strode to the door. She gave a little wave as she left and closed the door behind her. Ginger was alone and then she heard her captors leave the house through the back door, heard a vehicle start up and then Ginger was left in an unnaturally still and quiet house. The house might have been still and quiet, but Ginger’s mind was a riot of thoughts and emotions. What must they think at work? Where is Erin? Are these millions of dollars real? What did the woman mean when she said, “…my friend ties me up."? Ginger was lost in a barrage of thoughts that drove her to try to stand and take action and she was surprised when the ropes brought her up short.


“My God, the burglars must be miles away by now, but they are still controlling me.” Ginger had it brought home to her once again and with greater clarity than before that she was really, really, really tied up and she had better get used to it. She stopped struggling, relaxed and found that her mind was now clear and ready to analyze her situation. She sat in her chair and absentmindedly pointed her toes and thoughtfully opened and closed her bound hands behind her back.


She looked out the window at Erin’s house and saw no movement. No one else was in view either, just those damn birds and squirrels frolicking around however they liked while she sat there bound and gagged. Ginger was surprised at the irritation she felt when she contemplated the freedom the animals had.


What should she do? Should she wait for a rescuer or try to free herself? Should she try calling Erin again? That seemed like a reasonable first step. Ginger dug the phone out of its hiding place and twisted her hands to her side so she could put the hand piece on the arm of the chair. Some hair had escaped from beneath her gag, so she shook that out of her eyes and held her head at an angle so she could see the phone. With some difficulty, she was able to reach the phone buttons with one hand and dial Erin’s number. She bent her head down and listened as the phone rang. She was surprised to hear Erin’s perky little voice on the answering message, “Hi, this is Erin and Mark’s house. We’re a little tied up right now and can’t come to the phone. Leave a message and we’ll call you back real soon! Bye!” Ginger shouted into the phone, “I’m at my house and I’m really tied up! Come over here right now!” Of course this came out as, “I at I owph am I eely ibe uph! Om o-er ere iph ow!” Then Ginger pushed the hang up button and let her bound hands resume a more comfortable position behind her back.


She imagined her friend hearing that message. Erin was ten years younger than Ginger, but they had become friends. They went to aerobics together and did running and biking sometimes. They shopped occasionally and talked on the phone. They were each other’s best girlfriends in a superficial kind of way. Erin had only recently been married to Mark and they hadn’t yet had children. Erin was a website designer and worked out of their house. She was five foot, three inches tall and had an adorable cap of blonde curls on framing her face. Her eyes were positively gigantic and appeared startled most of the time, while her mouth was a tiny rosebud. She had a taut little figure with tiny, firm boobs, wide hips and beautifully defined arms and legs. Her hands and feet were as tiny and perky as the rest of her. Ginger imagined Erin’s startled eyes as she listened to Ginger’s gag-distorted message and Ginger just had to laugh. It surprised and gratified her that she was able to laugh at anything given her bound and gagged situation.


Ginger decided that she would now accept her status as a bound damsel as a humorous predicament and focus her efforts on getting free. It would be so much better to face her rescuers as a free woman than as a victim. Then she remembered that the woman burglar had said that she hoped they would be able to get Ginger’s boyfriend to be her rescuer. Why did she say that? Ginger had a boyfriend, so called. He was forty-two years old and was no boy, but he was quite the man. The man’s name was Carter. Ginger loved him. Sex with him had been the best she had ever had in her life and she adored the man. She had advised him on his financial affairs and they had both made a lot of money as a result. When he took her to dinner to celebrate a particularly fruitful investment about six months before, they had ended up a little drunk and a lot in lust. In fact it was in the very room where Ginger was now bound and gagged that they had had the first delicious taste of each other’s bodies.


Thinking of this was liked a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening to Ginger as she sat helplessly bound. The thought was all the more powerful in that it took her totally by surprise. She suddenly and urgently felt a positive need for his presence. Her arms and legs began to struggle against the ropes in response to this very surprising and totally unexpected feeling of unbridled sexual desire. Ginger had never had such a strong and uncontrollable feeling of desire while merely sitting by herself and the more she struggled against her bonds, the stronger the feeling grew. She wanted Carter to walk in that door now! Everything was now impossibly vivid. She found that she was sliding her bound feet back and forth on the wooden floor and that was transmitting a direct charge to the place between her legs.


The fact that she couldn’t bring her hands from behind her back seemed impossible, so urgent was the need for her to touch herself. She suddenly stopped and marveled. “It’s as if being tied up has freed my imagination. This is too much. I’ve got to calm down.”


Ginger stopped moving, but from now on she knew that the thought of Carter would be the cause of a permanent itch until she could either get untied herself or he came to untie her. She hoped very much that the burglars would call him. They seemed to know who he was. But in the meantime she was on her own and once again had to clear her mind and figure out what to do – if anything.


She had a choice. She could sit there knocking around in her own head or she could get busy. Maybe she should call Carter. The idea electrified her. Suddenly there was the potential for fun in being a bound and gagged damsel. Ginger first had to think where he might be at 11 a.m. on a Friday morning. An invisible observer would have seen Ginger literally sitting on the edge of her seat. Her bound legs were lifted up on her toes revealing the smooth soles of her feet and causing the muscles of her legs to tense against the rope around her ankles. She was tapping her index finger against her thumb behind her back in a thoughtful way and twisting her hands against her wrist rope a little. She chewed on her gag and in the back of her mind wondered if it would be possible to chew through it. Ginger knew she couldn’t get untied, but it would be nice to rid herself of the increasingly damp gag. But where would Carter be? He was the owner of several automobile dealerships that had been in his family for decades and he could be at any one of them. Carter hated cell phones and although he had one, he hardly ever left it on.


But the cell phone was really the only alternative. Ginger turned on the phone and pressed the speed dial button for Carter’s cell phone. She tossed her hair out of her eyes and bent down to listen. It rang and rang until Ginger lost count and then there was Carter’s voice giving a message. When the message was over, Ginger lowered her mouth and began to speak, but before she could do so, she knocked the phone to the floor. Her first impulse was to bend down and pick it up and this caused her arms and hands to twist and writhe against the ropes and her feet scrabbled and slipped on the floor. She stopped all this fruitless struggling in time to here the phone start beeping, demanding to be hung up.


Ginger looked over the armrest of the chair at the phone. It was only a couple of feet away, but it seemed like it might as well have been dropped down a well. Ginger made an incoherent squeal of frustration and once again felt the ropes holding her hands and feet as if for the first time. Recovering her sense of purpose, she carefully stood up and hopped around to the side of the chair. The phone was between the chair and the wall and Ginger couldn’t quite fit in the space, but she got close enough to grab the stubby little aerial of the phone between two toes and then she clumsily hopped backwards a few times until the phone was finally on the floor in front of the chair. With the big toe of one foot, Ginger pressed the off button and phone stopped its beeping.


Now what? Ginger decided it would be too difficult to retrieve the phone so she just stood there for a moment, again looking out the window. Her shoulders were hunched forward a little and her feet were splayed out for better balance. The view outside seemed so far away and unattainable as if it were an animated picture. She remembered that she had decided to have as much fun with her situation as possible and to forget for a moment the frustration of so far failing to get in touch with anybody. But she needed to plan, “A person who’s tied up can’t just go wandering aimlessly around. They have to be goal oriented. I can’t use the phone up here any more so I have to go downstairs. I’ll get downstairs, rest and then decide what to do next.” She thought of all the options she might have downstairs: kitchen knives to cut the ropes, the telephones in the kitchen and office, doors leading outside and if she had to give up trying to get loose, she could at least watch TV. She pictured herself sitting in her favorite place on the couch manipulating the remote from one hand pulled from behind her back and to her side.


Without further hesitation, Ginger began hopping for the bedroom door, but then she stopped and thought, “I should take some shoes. If Carter comes to the rescue, I don’t want to have dirty feet.” This new thought of Carter made Ginger’s body tingle and she felt a rising anticipation.


She hopped over to the large, walk-in closet, sat down in her vanity chair and surveyed her shoe racks for something that would be easy to slip on and off, but that she could also hop around in – an unlikely combination. Some movement caught her attention to her right and startled, she turned and there she was in her full-length mirror – tied hand and foot and gagged. Ginger was fascinated. It was as if she was seeing herself for the first time. Her first impression was that she looked just like the TV and movie damsels that she had been thinking about all day, except maybe better. Her thin sweater had fallen away on either side and she could see her bosom prominently displayed. Because her arms and hands were tied behind her, her bosom seemed tighter than usual against the fabric of her blouse. She looked at her legs and feet, held tightly together at her ankles and was gratified to see that they looked so smooth and taut – she immediately saw that being barefooted enhanced the look and feel of being tied. The sight made her feel beautiful, feminine – almost fragile. Her gagged mouth made her cheeks unnaturally chubby and her lips were somewhat distorted, but she guessed how the right man might find all this quite provocative. The gag was part and parcel of what Ginger was now beginning to realize was almost a cultural costume.


Ginger struck a couple of what she thought were erotic poses for the mirror, twisting against the ropes, pointing her toes and flexing her legs. She assumed a terrified damsel expression on her face and mmphhed pitifully. She saw the neatly tied ropes as they stopped her movements and had to admit that in some perverse way soft, white, cotton ropes were a powerful fashion accessory. The ropes around her ankles reminded her of some shoes she had had in college that were held on by tapes that had criss-crossed around each ankle. She had some shoes now that were held on by a thin leather strap around each ankle. “Are those shoes about being tied up?” she wondered, “A suggestion of sexy helplessness? Well, really being tied up goes far beyond a suggestion. I wonder how that will work on Carter? Do I even want to get untied? How else to make sure it’s him that finds me?”


Ginger felt that urgent itch between her legs again and shook her head in order to clear her mind and get back to the important business of finding some shoes and getting downstairs. She turned reluctantly away from the mirror and looked at her shoes again. At first she considered a pair of ballet flats, but thought they might come off too easy while she was hopping. Then she saw what might be perfect. They looked like classic tennis shoes, but with the heels cut away. The entire front of the shoe would serve to hold them on, but the lack of the heel would allow her to slip them off easily. They were on the floor beneath the shoe rack and Ginger grabbed them with her toes and positioned them so she could slip them on. When her feet were in the shoes she felt different – an illusion that she wasn’t as vulnerable. She confirmed this in the mirror, finding that she also looked less vulnerable – she was now fully dressed, whereas before she had felt a little naked with her feet bare, especially when the woman burglar had been in the room with her.


Ginger rested for a moment before beginning her travels and as she again marveled at her image in the mirror she wondered if she were being just a little vain and ridiculous, “Here I am, bound and gagged against my will by total strangers and I’m sitting in my closet posing for the mirror and worrying about my feet getting dirty.” Ginger had to grin and little muffled laugh escaped from beneath her gag. At that moment the phone rang. Ginger didn’t move. There was no way she could get to the phone. She heard the answering machine in the office pick up and her garbled voice gave the greeting. Then she heard a deeper voice leave a message. All this happened directly below her and she couldn’t hear what was said, but it gave her a goal. She would check her messages.


Ginger stood up and made a few test hops with her shoes on and found that they would answer very well. The rubber soles gripped the wooden floor and they didn’t threaten to fall off as long as she hopped forward. So Ginger began the long journey downstairs. She hopped out of the closet, across the bedroom to the door. The door was closed and Ginger had a sudden panicky thought that it might be locked, but it wasn’t. She was able to back up to the door and open it easily. She flicked the door wide open and hopped out into the hall. How strange it was to be in such familiar surroundings and yet have her perception of them so altered by being tied up. She had never thought about whether the hall was long or short; she just walked up and down it in a matter of seconds. Now she looked down its length and it seemed to be a tunnel that was a mile long. The stairs were at the other end and it made Ginger shiver to think that she was going to have to carefully work her way towards them and then down them.


As she hopped toward the stairs, her rubber-soled shoes squeaked against the wooden floor every time her feet thumped down. It was an almost cartoonish sound and Ginger had the sudden image of herself as a giant animated bunny. This happy image was soon wiped out as the ropes seemed to tighten up in response to her exertions and it became apparent what hard work it was to hop a significant distance. By the time she thumped and squeaked her way to the stairs, she was damp with sweat and breathing heavily. She stood at the top of the stairs and felt as dizzy as if she were at the edge of a cliff. The danger of falling seemed very real and Ginger decided that she had to sit on the floor while she planned her descent. It had become a constant mental reflex to compare her movements while bound to those she would have made had she been free. She pictured herself untied and effortlessly descending the stairs in a few seconds. Then she understood that to descend the stairs while tied up would involve a collaboration between her feet and her butt.


First she had to get her butt on the floor. Ginger hopped so that her left shoulder could lean against the wall and then she slowly bent her knees until she was in a squatting position. This made her ankle ropes seem very tight. She picked her moment and let her feet slide out to the side. Her butt hit the floor and her shoulder slid down the wall. Then she straightened her legs out in front of her and found her feet dangling over the top of the first stair. Hooking her heels in front of the stair, she pulled with her legs and sort of butt-walked her way forward until she was sitting, with what she hoped was at least a little dignity, on the top stair with her feet flat on the next stair down. Her hands were tied so that they could actually reach the floor and she could lift herself down each stair, alternately moving her feet down and stair and then with her hands gently lifting her butt to the next. With much grunting and sweating, Ginger slowly, painfully negotiated the stairs being oh so careful not to fall over or slip.


At the bottom with her butt on the last stair and her feet firmly on the floor of the entrance hall, she rested. Like the rest of the house, the entrance hall was floored with polished wood. There were rugs here and there throughout the house, but no room was without its expanse of dark, shining wood. Ginger found herself hot and wished she could take off her sweater. “How odd not to be able to do that simple thing. I still can’t believe I’m really tied up.” Then Ginger remembered that before preparing to leave the house earlier that morning, she had raised the thermostat ten degrees higher. “First step: Get the air conditioner going as cold as possible.”


Ginger wearily stood up. All exciting thoughts of being a damsel in distress who might be rescued and satisfyingly ravished by a certain fellow named Carter had diminished. All she cared about now was getting comfortable and settled while she plotted her next moves. She hopped down the hall towards the office and the kitchen and stopped off at the thermostat. There, with her nose, she repeatedly pushed the button that lowered the temperature one degree at a time until it was at 70 degrees. Then she resumed her up and down journey to her office, which was an all-purpose room across the hall from the kitchen. The office was a large room facing the backyard that not only had her and her former husbands computer work stations in it, but also had a well-stocked wet bar and an area defined by a couch and two matching chairs facing an entertainment center.


Ginger hopped into this room and to her relief found that it had not been very much messed up by the burglars. She stood in the door and surveyed the room. Her former husband’s computer was altogether missing, but the only other signs that burglars had been there were some open drawers in her former husband’s desk and file cabinet. There were also two glasses on the bar and Ginger assumed that her captors had helped themselves to drinks. She looked out the sliding glass doors to the patio and saw bright sunlight. She looked at her phone and saw the message light blinking. There were many things Ginger could try and do right now, but she needed to sit down and rest first. She hopped to the couch. With her bound hands, she took the remote control off the table by the couch and threw it next to where she would sit. There was no coffee table, so she nudged an ottoman next to where she would sit with her legs and then gratefully took a seat. She felt a mess and would have liked a break from being tied and gagged.


Kicking off her shoes, Ginger then sort of rolled the ottoman directly in front of her, put her feet and legs on it and tried to relax for a moment. She found herself thinking that it was terribly unfair that she should still be tied up. Somehow, she felt that with all her hopping around and wriggling about that the ropes should have come loose and fallen off her of their own accord. But a cursory testing of her bonds proved that she was still as firmly tied as ever. She wriggled around to get her bound hands as comfortable as possible. Of necessity, she had to lean against them and it took a while to position them so that there was as little pressure against them as possible, but the couch was soft and she achieved an acceptable position. Now that she had the time, she also noticed that her thick gag was wetter against her cheeks than ever and the cold air rushing from the air conditioner vent was making this more obvious.


Ginger looked at her bare feet, held neatly together by the white rope, and pointed them. Then she raised them at the ankles and wriggled her toes. Something of her earlier acceptance and even excitement at her plight began to flow back into her as she cooled off and began to retreat back into her mind. The house was so quiet and still, but there almost seemed to be a roar of activity outside that was really nothing more than the normal noise of animals, cars and lawn equipment. It was as if having her body rendered helpless by the ropes had enhanced some of her other senses. Ginger looked around the room with wonder while thoughtfully and slowly rubbing one foot against the other. This kept her in touch with the pressure of the ropes an it felt pleasurable in a recognizably sexual way and a constant undercurrent of the desire to be touched now ran through Ginger’s body and mind. But she was also planning her next move. Waiting for a hypothetical rescue was all very well, but Ginger wanted a backup plan. She decided that the first thing she would do would be to check the phone messages. There had been at least three calls that she wasn’t able to answer and those messages might give her a clue to what she might have to do, or not do, next.


Speaking of which, Ginger actually didn’t want to do much of anything, but the phone messages must be heard and the only thing to do was for her to hop over there and push the button. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece first and noted it was almost noon. That meant she had been tied up for about three hours. The ropes weren’t tight enough to chaff, but her arms were a little stiff from being held behind her so long and Ginger definitely wanted a break from the gag. Reluctantly she pushed the ottoman away, slid her feet into her shoes and stood up. She wriggled a bit to simultaneously shake some hair out of her eyes and get her skirt to fall straight. She hopped to her right toward the windows and the workstations. She looked wistfully at the bar as she passed and promised that she would have a large scotch as soon as possible.


With much thumping and squeaking, Ginger finally arrived at her desk and saw the phone message light blinking. She hopped so that her side was to the phone and leaned away from the phone so as to allow her hands to emerge from behind her back. Looking back, Ginger could see her bound hands and with one finger was just able to reach the message button. “You have three new messages,” said the phone. It seemed such an accomplishment to have traveled so far to hear her messages. She listened eagerly.


First message:


“Ginger! This is Erin! I saw you in the window. Are you going to work? I’m gonna drop by and see. If you’re taking a wellness day we can hang out and stuff. Bye!”


Second message:


“Hi Ginger, this is Marilyn (Ginger’s secretary). Did you say you weren’t coming in today? I notice you don’t have any appointments. Give us a call back and let us know. If you’ve already left and aren’t coming in, have a happy wellness day. Bye.”


Third message:


“Carter here. Did I just get a call from you? I see your number, but all I hear on the message is some bumping around. I’ve tried your office and they said you weren’t coming in. Maybe you hit your speed dial by mistake. Give me a call sweetie and tell me when I can come over later tonight. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll know you’re tied up and we’ll talk tomorrow.”


Hearing Carter’s voice made Ginger buzz with excited anticipation. She hopped around so she could sit in her office chair and savored the feeling. She noticed that when he said the words, “you’re tied up” that it felt like he was in the room. She wished he were. She kicked off her shoes and sat starring at the phone, thinking. With a different sort of shock, she recalled Erin’s message. She said she was coming over. Ginger hadn’t heard the doorbell. Because they were such good friends, there was a door in the fence separating their yards. Ginger looked over her shoulder and saw the door was closed. “So nobody’s on the way apparently. I’d like for Carter to see me all tied up, but I can’t wait all day.”


Ginger decided to get free without delay. If she was going to have a wellness day, she wasn’t going to be bound and gagged for the whole thing – that was too much. She stood up without bothering to put on her shoes and decided what to do. She would hop to the kitchen, get a pair of scissors to cut the ropes and go in the downstairs bathroom where hopefully she could see what she was doing in the mirror.


As Ginger hopped to the kitchen, she decided that hopping without shoes was the way to go and that she had become quite an expert at moving about with her hands and feet tied. With a burst of confidence and a glow of athletic accomplishment, she stepped up her pace and positively bounded into the kitchen and stopped at the drawer where the scissors were. She opened the drawer and rummaged through it with the one hand that could reach from her back far enough to feel around and she triumphantly decided that being tied up wasn’t that big a deal. Anybody could get loose. What was wrong with all those TV and movie damsels that most of them just sat there whining and waiting. She found the scissors and holding them behind her back she hopped off out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. The bathroom door was next to the basement door where she had earlier shown the burglars where her former husband’s boxes were kept.


With a now practiced skill, Ginger backed up to the bathroom door and opened it with the hand unencumbered by the scissors and pushed it open. She turned on the light with her nose and for the second time beheld her gagged face. “What a giggle. I’ll soon have that thing out of my mouth.”


Ginger hopped around in a little circle so that she was side-on to the mirror and could see her hands. She was surprised at how difficult it proved to manipulate the scissors so that one blade was beneath a single strand of rope. It seemed to take forever and she almost dropped the scissors more than once. When she finally inserted a blade beneath a rope, she then had to begin working the scissors. This too was difficult. She was forced to hold the scissors at an unaccustomed angle and they weren’t cutting very well – in fact not at all. She could muster only a minimum of leverage and the scissors seemed to be merely mashing the rope instead of cutting it. But Ginger persevered. She was growing sweaty with the effort to hold her position and with the dogged persistence required to awkwardly work the scissors. Her wrist was cramping and she had the absurd image of herself going to her doctor with carpel tunnel syndrome and telling him that she had acquired the injury by trying to escape from being bound.


Finally the scissors began to make a difference. The rope began to fray and Ginger held herself totally rigid in order to continue working on the same area. When the rope parted she gave a sigh of relief. She laid the scissors down on the bathroom counter and began working her wrists against the ropes, fully expecting them to loosen immediately and fall away. Ginger was shocked to find that the ropes seemed as tight as ever. She could feel the loose ends of the cut piece dangling behind her, but her hands were held fast behind her as if she had never made any effort at all. She looked over her shoulder and held her bound hands as high as she could in order to analyze the problem. It was immediately apparent that she had cut in the wrong place. She had cut one of the strands encircling her wrists, but those strands were still held in place by the cinchings between her wrists.


Ginger steeled herself for what proved to be an even more difficult task. The cinchings were harder for her to slip the scissors beneath and her struggles to do so were making the ropes seem uncomfortably tight. She tried to select a strand of rope that actually entered the knot and after an incredibly awkward attempt, she finally succeeded. Then began again the slow, endless gnawing of the rope with the scissors. “This is not the right tool for the job,” she mumbled through teeth that would have been clenched had they not been held apart by her thick, wet gag. There followed a tense silence broken only by the faint sound of metal slowly munching through soft rope – maddeningly resilient rope. When the strand was cut through, Ginger again tried working her wrists free. After a moment she seemed to detect a tiny bit of additional slack. She looked back and with her fingers did what she could to unwind the cinching between her wrists.


After an eternity, she was rewarded by a definite slackness and she began to frantically pull and push against the rope around her wrists. She could almost get the heel of one hand out from the bindings but not quite. She was almost awed by how efficiently her hands were tied. She had never dreamed how difficult it was to get untied even with the freedom of movement she had. Ginger had had no idea what she was dealing with all this time and how helpless she had really been. But the rope grew looser now with every twisting and turning of her shoulders, arms and hands and with one determined effort, her left hand finally popped out of the band of rope that had held her hands together. Even so, the essential structure of her bonds was still intact as she held her right hand in front of her for the first time in over three hours.


Ginger slipped the ropes off her wrist and sat down on the toilet seat. She bent to her ankles and freed her feet and then looking in the mirror again she untied the gag and let it fall into the sink. Her first thought was that she wanted something wet, cold and alcoholic to drink. She had been tied up so long that the simple ability to walk, swing her arms and shut her mouth seemed as miraculous as flying.


Back in the office, Ginger selected the biggest tumbler, filled it with ice, soda and a huge quantity of scotch. She sat in her office chair and checked to see how dirty the bottoms of her feet were and was satisfied to see that they were still quite acceptably clean. Not that she any longer had to worry about someone finding her tied up with dirty feet. She blew out her cheeks, breathed deeply and drank even deeper. Throwing her head back to look at the ceiling she began to wonder what to do next. Who to call? What to do? What to think? Physical freedom now offered her a huge number of options that she was not particularly anxious to take advantage of. It was her morning of being bound and gagged that fascinated her and the surprisingly powerful emotions that that had released, especially when she had thought of Carter. Ginger regretted that Carter couldn’t have found her all tied up and the thought gave her a surge of excitement, but the same feeling had been much stronger when she had been roped up.


She extended her strong, smooth legs and feet out in front of her and made little flutter kicks. She enjoyed the freedom of movement, but felt that without the ropes around her ankles that something was missing. “I’m in the mood for love,” she thought, “and I want a rough gentleman to prepare me for it with a bit of rope.” Ginger laughed and giggled. She also wondered how long it would take for the rope marks to disappear and wondered what Erin would think when Ginger told her about this incredible morning. She was a bit disappointed that Erin hadn’t come over like she said she was going to in her phone message.


She relaxed again and took another long pull on her drink. She noticed that the heightened perceptions of hearing and vision that she had had while bound were now back to normal and she began noting the sounds that she could hear that had seemed so loud before. But there was one sound that she couldn’t identify. It sounded like the noise someone might make if they were trying to pull something really heavy. It was a sort of ummmph or eeeeeph. It seemed far off, but was nevertheless definitely in the vicinity of the house. Ginger went to the back sliding glass doors and saw nothing. She went in the kitchen and the noise seemed a bit louder. Entering the hall to head to the front of the house made the noise even easier to hear and as she passed the door that led to the basement, Ginger could tell that it was definitely someone grunting in a rather desperate manner. In fact, the sound seemed to resonate from behind the basement door. Opening the door made the noise twice as loud and Ginger was spooked. She crept down the stairs and peered around the wall partitioning the stairs from the large room and there, lying on the floor, was her friend Erin bound and gagged just as Ginger had been. Ginger’s little curly-haired, blonde friend was wearing a lilac, floral-patterned miniskirt, a white sleeveless blouse and white, transparent pantyhose. Her shoes were black flat slingbacks with a complicated series of perforations and straps around the toes. Erin had abandoned her shoes at the couch, which was across the room and had either crawled or fallen as she hopped toward the stairs. When she saw Ginger, her gigantic, startled blue eyes grew wider than ever. She strained her face toward Ginger and howled through her gag. Her body began thrashing as it attempted to demonstrate that it needed to be untied please, right now.


Ginger, having so recently been in the ropes herself, was no longer shocked at the sight of someone tied up and was just glad to see Erin rather than yet another frightening person she didn’t know. In her relief, Ginger’s response was inappropriate to say the least. She sauntered into the room, stood over Erin, put her hands on her hips, giggled for a second and said, “That is such a cute outfit. But you’ll get all wrinkled and dirty on the floor. Ha ha, ha.”


Erin froze in amazement for a second and then yelled, “IM-ER! Umphie ee mow!” She rolled over and waved her bound hands at Ginger, just in case Ginger hadn’t noticed that they were tied behind her back. Ginger stole a glance at Erin’s smooth nylon-clad legs and feet, roped so neatly together at the ankles and had to admit that there was something about being tied up that really complimented a gal’s looks.


“Hey you, I can’t understand a word you’re saying. Let’s get you untied and take that thing out of your mouth so we can talk. How did you ever get yourself in such a fix anyway?” Ginger untied Erin’s hands and while she was untying her feet, Erin got busy ungagging herself. As Ginger unwound the rope from Erin’s ankles, she was giggling under her breath.


A freshly ungagged Erin wiped her mouth and cheeks dry with the scarf that had recently been so firmly secured between her lips. She looked at Ginger with her huge, startled eyes with confusion and a little fear, “WHAT is so funny? Where have you been all this time?” With her ankles finally untied, Erin sprang up off the floor, tossed her hair, angrily padded over to the couch, sat down, got a cigarette out of her purse, lit it, wriggled her stocking feet into her shoes, crossed her legs, looked at Ginger and said, “Well?”


Ginger picked up the ropes and scarf and laid them on a chair while she went and sat on another near Erin. “I’m sorry I laughed, but I was in the same fix as you until right before I came down here. It took forever to get untied. I presume you met the burglars?”


“When I saw you in the window, I figured you were playing hooky today so I came in through the backyard to see if you wanted to go shopping. Those two characters told me they were your accountants and were helping you organize your husband’s papers. Once I got in the house, they grabbed me and tied me UP? They put me down here and said you would find me later in the day. They lied to me. Who were they?


“I don’t exactly know, but they were here to steal some stuff of my husband’s. They tied me up in the back bedroom and said they would call somebody from my address book to come let me go. I got tired of waiting so I got myself untied. That was pretty weird being tied up and all. Not really like I would have expected. How did it make you feel?”


“It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’ve been tied up plenty of times, but never against my will by a couple of strangers. It scared me when I stood up to hop to the stairs and fell down. I couldn’t really get comfortable after that.”


Ginger thought she was hearing things, “Wait a minute. Did you just say you’ve been tied up plenty of times?”


“Oh yeah. Mark ties me up about once a week. I love it. If you’ve got a man around who knows what he’s doing you can have the most incredible orgasms. He can touch you slowly and gently and you get SO excited? But you can’t move. Mark can touch me or kiss me or leave me alone for awhile. He can undress me and there’s nothing I can do to stop him or hurry him up. I can thrash around all I want to but he just makes me crazier and crazier until I’m almost begging him to make me come. It’s unbelievable. It’s as if being tied like that allows you to be an animal. My body is tied, but the emotions are completely freed and really powerful. And the way we do it is really realistic because there’s a time limit of a couple of hours where I have to stay tied up no matter what. Being messed with for a couple of hours while I can hardly move just makes me out of my mind. I have these huge, long orgasms that sometimes make me faint and always make me laugh like an idiot and cry at the same time. You’ve never done that? Do you think I’m a weirdo? You should see the look on your face right now. Ha, ha.”


Ginger stood up, “Let’s go upstairs. I’m having a drink. You want one?”


Erin leapt up, “Sure. What fun!”


Ginger grabbed the ropes and scarf that Erin had been tied with and they both went upstairs and into the office/den. Ginger made them both a really big gin and tonic and they sat in the little area where Ginger had been sitting on the couch, bound and gagged, not even an hour ago. Ginger noticed it was 1 p.m., which meant she had been free for only about thirty minutes.


Ginger smiled, “I have a confession to make. When I was sitting in this very spot all tied up, it was difficult to think. I kept imagining Carter walking in, seeing me that way and kissing me. It made me very excited and like you said, the fact that I just had to sit there and wait and bounce around in my own head made it twice as stimulating. Every little thing had incredible significance. Just kicking off my shoes made me feel vulnerable and sexy. I kept looking at my feet tied together and it was like I had been somehow ‘prepared’ to be taken by a hero. I’ve never quite felt that before. But you say that you and Mark have been doing this for fun?”


“Oh yeah! Before we were married, one night we were watching a movie where the heroine was tied up by the bad guys and I said, ‘That’s stupid. I could get loose from that.’ Mark said, ‘I bet you couldn’t. I bet you I could tie you up where you couldn’t get loose at all.’ So we bet a hundred dollars that Mark could tie me up and I could get loose before an hour went by. What I didn’t count on was that the second my hands were tied behind my back, all I could think of was being fucked. When he tied my feet together, I almost got desperate I was so excited. Then her kissed me for a long, long time and I started begging him to either untie me or fuck me. I couldn’t believe it. Then he went and sat in a chair and just watched me struggle.


“Every now and then, he would come over and kiss me and touch my breasts and feel me up and I would go nuts when he would stop and go back to his chair. But just like he said, I couldn’t get untied. Once I tried to hop over to him and he grabbed me and sat me back down on the couch and tied my feet to the couch leg. When I told him that was cheating, he got a big handkerchief and gagged me. He kept coming over and feeling me and then stopping. By this time I had given up trying to get loose. We just stared at each other and I was wriggling around. It was making him excited too. I could see that. He was fully dressed, but all I had on was one of his big undershirts. He cut that off me with a pair of scissors and I almost went through the roof. About fifteen minutes before my time was up, he untied my feet and said he was going upstairs to bed and would I like to join him. I went upstairs behind him with my hands still tied and my mouth gagged. I watched him undress and then had to climb up on the bed with him. He sat me on top and guided himself into me and I won’t bore you with the details, but it was an orgasm that was so much more powerful than any I had had before that it was almost like a different sensation entirely. Since then, we’ve played the game all kinds of ways. What happened today might have been like one of our games, except it was totally serious. It made me appreciate how helpless a person can be. From what you said, you should really try it with Carter if he’s the right kind of guy.”


“Well, I wish I knew what was going to happen next. I have no idea when the burglars are going to call him. They might not even get hold of him. It would be so awkward if they called my secretary and she called the police. Hmmm. I’d better call work and let them know that I’m OK. They left a message earlier and I can have all my calls routed to my phone mail at work. That way, they won’t hear any of this. I’ll tell them I’m taking a wellness day. Some pretty strange wellness day.”


“Don’t you want to call the police?”


“Not yet. Maybe not ever. I can’t tell you the details right now, but I think it might be a mistake to involve the authorities.”


Ginger called work and for the first time in her life lied about why she wouldn’t be in and arranged to have all her calls routed directly to phone mail. Then she called her phone mail at work and there was one recent message from Carter that revealed that he didn’t know anything was out of the ordinary. Then she returned to her drink and her conversation with Erin.


Ginger looked at Erin and giggled, “So do you know how to tie someone up? Have you ever tied up Mark?”


“Oh we tried tying him up, but we both like it a lot better when it’s me. But I do know how. It’s really pretty easy once you know the basics. Those two that tied us up knew what they were doing. You’ll notice that we weren’t in pain, but we damn sure couldn’t get loose. Except you got loose. How did that happen?”


“It was hard work. I had to hop around all over the place and find a pair of scissors. Then I had to get to the bathroom mirror and still I had to cut the rope in two places to get my hands free. Even then it was a struggle. If I had been tied to a chair or something, we’d both still be tied up. Would you be willing to do me a big favor?”


Erin perked up as if she knew what was coming next, “Ummm, hmmm.”


“Here’s what I want to do. I want to fix it so that Carter comes to rescue me and finds me tied, gagged and dressed to kill. You’ll have to tie me up and then keep anyone but Carter from coming in, even if it’s the police. You’ll have to say you don’t know what they’re talking about and that everything’s just fine. I don’t know quite how we’ll figure this out, because I don’t know who the burglars will call or when, but I want to be rescued by Carter and we can even fix it so that he thinks it’s a game. I know it’s a pain, but will you help me with that.”


“I think it’ll be great. It’ll be fun. You’ve got to let me pick your outfit. Oh, this will be a hoot! Better yet! You can help me out too. Mark and I have always wanted someone we could trust to tie me up so he could come home and there I’d already be, tied and gagged and ready! I’ll show you how to do it. This is unbelievable!”


Ginger looked at Erin’s happy shining face with her absurdly large blue eyes and impossibly cute blonde curls. “I’ll do it. First thing we have to do is pick out my little costume. Let us repair to the closet.”


They thundered up the stairs and made their way to Ginger’s huge, walk-in closet. Erin shoved Ginger out of the way and began to sort through the rather surprisingly boring selection. Most of Ginger’s clothes were either calculated to turn her into an intimidating executive or were casual, but conventional items. There was very little of the overtly sexy in this closet. Erin frowned, “You know, Mark likes it when I dress up in little black cocktail party dresses or, well, like I am now. What does Carter like?”


“Carter hasn’t expressed a strong preference, but on several occasions when we have plans to meet after work, he’s insisted that I not go home to change, but remain dressed as the ‘lady executive’ as he puts it. I had always thought he was just trying to save time, but maybe that’s what he likes. He seems to enjoy taking those kind of clothes off me. The more complicated the better it seems.” Ginger and Erin giggled conspiratorially.


Erin kicked her little flat slingbacks off her stocking feet in a quick, absentminded motion and began to flick through Ginger’s executive suits in an almost professional manner. It reminded Ginger of a practiced store clerk focusing on the next outfit for her to try on. Erin stopped at a dress that was tightly fitted at the shoulders, bosom and midriff and gradually filled out to a full skirt that fell to mid-calf. It had full sleeves, a low-cut bosom with collars on either side, and a sash that tied around the waist. It was a floral pattern of red, orange and turquoise on white. Erin took this down and laid it over the vanity chair. Then she began rummaging through a drawer that she found contained many pairs of stockings and pantyhose. She selected a pair of stockings that were thin, transparent and natural colored and found a more or less complimentary garter belt. “I’m surprised that you have actual stockings. I don’t have any at all. These even have reinforced toes.”


“I think they’re comfortable. I like the feeling of minimal panties and hose that end at the top of my thighs.”


“Well, today you’re not going to have any panties at all. We’re not going to obstruct Carter at all. I’m going to have to get some of these. I like the reinforced toes.”


Erin then began critically scrutinizing Ginger’s shoes. She mumbled under her breath, “What would go? What would go? Ah ha!” Erin triumphantly held up a pair of dark brown pumps. They were low-cut and had a bit of fringe at the toes. The spiked heels were only about two inches high. “You will be a feminine damsel. A flowery beauty waiting helplessly bound and gagged to be plucked by your dashing hero!”


Ginger pictured herself tied and gagged in this outfit and felt anticipation rising within her. She shooed Erin out and bathed, did her hair and makeup and put on the chosen outfit. Given the purpose for which the outfit was intended, Ginger decided to omit underwear altogether. She swirled back into the bedroom and presented herself for Erin’s approval, pirouetting in a full circle.


Erin clapped and her face lit up, “Ooooo, what an innocent damsel. You’ll have to practice fluttering your eyes. OK, it’s 2 o’clock now. When do you think somebody will show up to make the rescue? How should we work this? Let’s go back downstairs and have another drink.”


Erin retrieved her shoes and led the way down the stairs, a shoe in each hand. They entered the office/den and settled in with fresh drinks to make their plans. Erin had taken charge it seemed and was the first to speak up. “What did those people tell you they were going to do? Who were they going to call exactly?”


“They took my address book and said they were going to call somebody to come let me go and that they hoped for my sake, I guess, that they got hold of my boyfriend. There was a message from Carter a couple of hours ago, but he was just responding to a call I made when I was tied up. I got the number dialed, but then dropped the phone where I couldn’t reach it. Obviously he isn’t here yet, but there’s no telling when he’ll be here or if it’ll be him. I’d hate to have anyone but him find me all tied up, including the police. I don’t even want the police snooping around here asking questions. It would be an absolute hoot for Carter to come in here and find me, but I don’t know if we can pull it off this time. Maybe we better wait until we know he’s really gonna be here, ya know?”


Erin thought about his and her face announced that she had a plan. “Here’s what we can do. I’ll tie you up now so that if Carter shows up unexpectedly, you’ll be all ready, but I’ll hang around with you until he gets here. If somebody else comes, I can cut you loose or get them to go away. If Carter comes, I’ll gag you and slip out the back and through the gate in the fence. Ha! Perfect.”


“You mean we’ll just sit here with me tied up and you sitting there free as a bird? I don’t know. That might be too weird.”


“Oh c’mon. It’ll be fun. I’ll help you have a few drinks and we can talk about what it feels like. I’ve been dying to meet another woman I can talk to about this. And anyway, we have to get used to tying each other up. I’ll tie you up for Carter and you’ll tie me up for Mark. It’ll be like playing dress up, but with ropes and gags. I’ve already picked your outfit. Don’t be a poo-poo head.”


Ginger had to giggle at her friend’s eager, shining face as Erin began sorting through the ropes, looking for just the right lengths and laying them out neatly on the bar. Ginger noticed that as Erin prepared to get to work, she once again kicked off her shoes. She turned to Ginger with a shorter length of rope dangling from one hand and said, “OK, come over here and let’s get you ready for your hero.”


Ginger did as she was told with a pensive smile on her face. Erin spun her around and pulled Ginger’s arms behind her and crossed one wrist over the other. Ginger tensed a little as she began to feel the rope wrap around her wrists, but she also noticed how different she felt being tied by Erin compared to being tied by the burglar. Instead of fear there was a rather sudden wave of fun, of intimacy and a rising anticipation and promise of carnal pleasure. The unbidden thought entered Ginger’s head that as her body was made bound and beyond her control, so might be her emotions. All these feelings were bumped up a notch as Ginger felt Erin tie the knot, signaling in a split second that Ginger was now a captive – a willing one this time, but a captive nevertheless.


Ginger began to turn around in order to struggle and test her bonds, but Erin grabbed her by the shoulders and barked, “Stay still. We’re not done here.”


“My hands may be tied, but that doesn’t mean you get to boss me around young lady.”


“If you keep whining I’ll gag you, Ginger. Now I’m doing this at your request and it’s too late to back out, so just you do what you’re told and hold still. And don’t call me young lady.”


Ginger heard a new and undeniable authority in Erin’s voice and said nothing as she felt Erin begin to encircle her body and arms with an astonishing quantity of rope. The rope was wrapped under her bosom and above her elbows. Ginger then felt Erin cinch the rope between her elbows and her body, first on one side and then the other, pull everything a degree tighter and then tie a knot somewhere between her shoulder blades. Then Erin’s hands were off her, but Ginger felt that she might as well be in an inescapable bear hug.


Ginger pushed and pulled at the ropes around her wrists, arms and body in an involuntary investigation into just how exactly it felt to be so thoroughly deprived of the use of her arms and hands. Erin walked around her with the look of a person who had just done a good job of work and was admiring the quality of it.


“You realize of course,” Erin said with a smug grin, “that you are now just as much my prisoner as you were the burglars’. We’re going to make this realistic. I will let you choose where to sit and then we’ll tie your cute little feet together.”


“So what’s the purpose of this rope around my body? Why is that necessary?”


“It makes you twice as helpless and it looks great. It makes your tits poke out, if you haven’t noticed. Carter will appreciate that; believe me. Ha ha.”


The ropes and Erin’s attitude made Ginger feel totally subservient. But she also found herself getting into the spirit of the thing and the thought of Carter finding her all tied up made her feel as if she would go mad when she let herself imagine the moment. Ginger looked around the room and decided there was no better place to be helplessly bound than on the couch. The couch faced the door into the room and would serve admirably as center stage in the little drama she and her tyrannical little friend were constructing. Ginger strode gracefully to the couch and sat down, careful not to wrinkle her long flowing skirt. She twisted against the ropes and flexed her hands and arms to make them more comfortable within their bonds and looked at Erin who was impatiently swinging a length of rope like a limp pendulum – a piece of rope that would soon put an end to Ginger’s ability to walk. She imagined herself hopping with the rope tight around her ankles. She then decided to try and prevent Erin from tying her feet together just for the fun of it. What could Erin possibly do to force Ginger to have her feet tied together? Ginger’s legs were strong and she though Erin couldn’t possibly force them together and tie them.


“Good choice!” Erin went down on her knees at Ginger’s feet and prepared to tie them together. When Erin grabbed an ankle in each hand, Ginger began to fight to keep her feet apart. Erin giggled at first but then realized that Ginger was fighting in earnest. Then Erin did something that Ginger hadn’t counted on at all. She let go of one ankle and grabbed the other one with both hands. She whipped off Ginger’s shoe and began tickling the bottom of her foot. This acted on Ginger like an electric shock. She had never been particularly ticklish, but because her hands were tied and she couldn’t stop Erin’s fingers, the feeling was multiplied many times over. Ginger tried pushing Erin over with her free foot, but Erin just rolled over and maintained her grip on the one foot – tickling it all the while. Finally Ginger exclaimed, “OK, ok, tie my feet, just please, please stop that!”


Erin was laughing as she stuck her tongue out at Ginger and Ginger just let herself relax against the couch in utter relief and felt her feet being tied together. Once her feet were bound, she noticed that Erin put her shoes back on her feet and Ginger was once again completely helpless. Erin smoothed Ginger’s stockings, stood up and took a long, white, nylon scarf and tied a knot in the middle of it. She draped this over the back of the couch next to Ginger and then she made them both a fresh drink.


Erin placed a straw in Ginger’s drink and put it on the table by the couch where Ginger could reach it with her mouth. Then she went and sat in a large chair where she could contemplate her bound and gagged friend. She kicked off her shoes and curled her stocking feet around her butt and gave Ginger a warm smile.


Ginger gave her drink a sip and almost fell over on the couch as she straightened back up. She looked at her friend and captor. “So I’m really your prisoner, huh? You should really be ashamed of yourself after I untied you. I could have left you like that.”


Erin chuckled under her breath, “You are my prisoner. There’s no way I’ll untie you because when Carter finds you like this it’ll be because you have no choice. You’ll thank me later and anyway, you’ll get your chance with me. I won’t whine and complain like you that I have a friend who will get me all tied up and ready for my man. And I’ll tell you a little secret: I’m not totally immune to the way you look. Have you ever kissed another woman? It can be a really nice change ya know. Don’t you think I look nice?”


Erin unbuttoned her blouse until most of her breasts were exposed and watched for Ginger’s reaction. Ginger’s face assumed an expression of grave alarm and she asked somewhat meekly, “Do I have a choice? I don’t know. I’ve always thought you were very pretty, but… no, um I’ve never kissed a woman.” Ginger began wriggling against the ropes that bound her. She was obviously uncomfortable under her friend’s frankly carnal gaze and this increased her feeling of helplessness as nothing else had so far. “What if I don’t want to kiss you? Will you tickle me until I do? I can’t stop you.”


Erin’s bubbly laugh filled the room, “No, kissing you wouldn’t be any fun at all unless you wanted it too. Keeping you tied up for Carter is one thing, but forcing you to kiss me is another. It was just a thought. But I must admit that I have selfish motives in watching you in the ropes. I’ll think about this later when I make myself come.”


“You’ll be thinking about me – all tied up?”


“To be honest, yes.”


During this conversation, Ginger had noticed a rising excitement and a spreading dampness come over her. Her feet had pointed and her shoes had slipped off her heels and the cool air on the soles of her stockinged feet made her feel both more vulnerable and even more excited.


“Well, I’ve always said, it’s worth trying anything a dozen times if it seems like it might be nice so if you want to kiss me, come over here and do it. You’ve made damn sure I can’t come to you.” Ginger stopped all movement and let her head fall back on the top of the couch and watched as Erin slipped off her chair and padded softly towards her. Ginger felt twice as helpless as she contemplated Erin’s graceful movements – movements she couldn’t make at all while Erin could touch her anywhere and Ginger wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.


Erin sat down beside Ginger on her knees so that her head was over Ginger’s. Ginger could smell her. She smelled of perfumed hair and scotch and there was a subtle hint of stockinged feet mixed in. Unfamiliar emotions began rising within as Ginger waited for what would happen next. It felt so odd to be tied hand and foot and unable to influence the pace of events. Erin wasn’t hurrying. She looked at Ginger with a languid, almost sleepy, happiness which contrasted vividly with Ginger’s own rather urgent anticipation.


Erin took one of Ginger’s breasts in her small hand and gently massaged it. Ginger’s body immediately responded. Ginger gasped and her hands and feet had a brief struggle with the ropes that bound them. Then Erin lowered her face onto Ginger’s and they kissed long and deeply, just as they would with a man. But the feeling was quite different and Ginger couldn’t decide if it was because it was with another woman or if it was because of her state of bound helplessness. At any rate, the kiss was unbelievably smooth and sweet and Ginger struggled to arch her body into it. Her hands flapped behind her and her stockinged feet rid themselves of their shoes and her toes dug into the carpet. The power that ran through her body seemed sufficient to break any bonds and Ginger noted somewhere in the back of her mind that the ropes were becoming a lever that lifted her passion higher than she thought possible. She wriggled like a worm as the kissing went on. She wanted to be stroked between her legs immediately and her legs rubbed together in a hopeless attempt to assuage that feeling. Her hands fluttered spasmodically behind her but the ropes were inescapable. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Ginger’s face felt wet and warm and she was breaking out in a sweat.


Ginger looked at Erin and saw that she seemed relatively cool and actually had an expression of knowing amusement on her face and then without warning, Erin broke off the kiss and sauntered nonchalantly back to her chair and sat down as she was before. Ginger initially lunged in her direction and was brought up short by the ropes that bound her. She let herself fall back against the couch and looked at Erin hungrily – with unconcealed desire. Erin’s face was one large sunny grin topped off by a spreading blush.


“What did you think of that Ginger my gal?”


“Why did you stop?”


“Oh we’re just getting you ready for your hero. When he comes in the door you’re going to be ready to go through the roof. I’m going to stroke you to the edge of insanity sweetheart, ha, ha. Your feet and legs look great straining against the ropes. It’s always so exciting when the damsel loses her shoes. You need to remember that.”


“I don’t suppose I could take a little break from being tied up, huh?”


“No, you really are my captive. You’ll get your chance with me and then you’ll see how important it is that the game is real.” Erin extended her silky legs out and gave a little flutter kick, “Don’t I look nice? Don’t you want to touch this body?”


“I do. I want you to come back over here and sit next to me. I’ve never dreamed I could want another woman so badly and yet every time I think of Carter coming in that door and seeing me like this, I’m devastated.”


“Have another sip of your drink and try to relax. We don’t even know what Carter’s up to. Were those burglars gonna call him or what?”


“They were going to go through my address book and call anyone that answered the phone. My goddamn mother might come to the door and then where would we be?”


Ginger sipped a bit of her drink through the straw and wriggled her feet back into her shoes – a difficult task given that they had been kicked away from her a tad. She noticed Erin appreciate the struggle. “What is it with women and shoes anyway? All our shoes seem calculated to either show as much foot as possible or fall off as easily as possible. Are feet that sexy?”


“Yes they are. I see men looking at my feet and legs all the time. Many of them seem guilty about it, but they look just the same. Don’t bother to analyze it. Just accept it. Our feet and legs are beautiful and a bit of tight rope binding them at the ankles enhances the effect. I don’t know why and I don’t care.”


“So what should we do about Carter? I must say that if I was alone and untied, I would have both hands between my legs right now. If he isn’t coming then I’m going to have to beg you to either untie me or finish me off pretty soon.”


Erin watched as Ginger twisted against her bonds. Her bosom strained against the ropes beneath them and her hands jerked from side to side in a hopeless attempt at finding some slack in the well-tied ropes. Her feet pointed and her stockings wrinkled at her ankles where the ropes bound them tightly together.


“I’m not going to spoil this thing between you and Carter. We’ll just have to get him here ourselves if he’s not coming on his own. Let’s see, it’s three o’ clock now. Where could you reach him now?”


“He’d be at his office I think unless the burglars had called him and he’s on his way over now. I don’t know.”


“I’m gonna call him. What’s the number?”


Ginger dictated the number as Erin called.


“Oh hi Carter, remember me? I’m Gingers neighbor. Yeah. She wanted me to tell you to come over the second you got off work. Umm hummm. Right. She has a little surprise for you. No she’s feeling fine. She just decided to lie a little and have wellness day just to prepare a little surprise for you. Don’t pay any attention to any other messages you may have gotten about her, there’re old news now. Yes I’m with her and she’s here now, but she’s a little tied up right now. Yes. Very busy. Can’t talk. OK. Promise? Great! Nice talking to you too! Bye!”


“There! He said he’d be over about six o’clock. That gives us about three hours to turn you into a quivering mess of a damsel, ha, ha.”


Ginger couldn’t help but squirm in response to this comment – three hours of teasing was ahead of her and she wouldn’t be able to control the pace of it at all. She both looked forward to it and dreaded it. “What if Carter thinks this is perverted? He’s never expressed an interest.”


“I guarantee you he’ll love you all packaged and helpless. Most guys are a bit more adventurous than you might think and from what I know of Carter, he’ll at least be amused. Anyway, he loves you. He’ll be ready to take you no matter how he finds you.


The next three hours were the strangest Ginger had ever experienced. Most of the time she and Erin talked, but even that was exciting. Ginger would be chatting away and almost forget that she was tied up until she would unconsciously try to gesture or change her position try and the ropes would remind her that she was thoroughly bound. Then she would look at her pretty friend who was free to gesture, walk around and change her position and Ginger would keenly feel the captive.


A couple of times every hour, Erin would come over and play with Gingers tied body. She did nothing to disturb Ginger’s clothing or her deeper emotions, but what she did gave Ginger a glimpse at a sexual power she had never expected. Erin’s hands would lightly massage Ginger’s breasts or thighs and her lips and tongue would give long, soft, deep kisses. Once Erin lay on her side at Ginger’s feet and gave Ginger an unexpectedly devastating foot massage that left her bound feet tingling and caused Ginger to rub her stockinged feet on the carpet after Erin had gone back to her chair.


But one thing was certain. Every time Erin would play with Ginger, it left Ginger longing for more and feeling even more like a prisoner because she was so helpless to do anything but twist and turn against the soft but unyielding ropes. But in addition to her growing excitement and anticipation there was also a curious and serene tranquility. Ginger had no choice but to accept whatever came her way and although her body was buzzing like a bee hive, her mind was strangely detached – it was the same feeling she had when she was meditating or was in the middle of a long, satisfying run. There was a growing sense that she was in a dream and while her body was growing ever more impatient to by satisfied, her mind was content – content because there was no alternative.


Ginger was also a little drunk and had begun to enjoy indulging in a constant but gentle struggle against her bonds. She felt like a soft, feminine, helpless damsel as she slowly worked her wrists that were bound behind her and pushed and pulled with her stockinged feet against her ankle ropes. Occasionally it would seem to her impossible that she couldn’t get loose and she would give a little convulsive shiver as the ropes instantly convinced her otherwise. Erin’s enjoyment at Ginger’s plight was obvious and this only accentuated Ginger’s state of dreamy desperation.


Ginger began to imagine Erin tied up but had to banish this from her mind as being altogether too exciting for comfort.


When the time for Carter’s arrival was imminent, Erin paid Ginger another visit. They kissed again and then Erin drew back, “It’s time to get you ready for your hero. I’m going to gag you and put your shoes back on and then I’m going to go lurk at the front windows so I can see him and make my exit. I’ll put a note on the front door telling him to let himself in. You’re going to love this.”


 Erin skipped behind the couch and took up the knotted scarf. She said, “Open wide,” and inserted the knot in Ginger’s mouth. Then she wound the scarf in both directions in and out between Ginger’s teeth and lips until Ginger’s mouth was completely full and then she knotted the scarf behind Ginger’s head. Ginger was astonished that she could feel so much more helpless than before; but she did. Then Erin knelt at Ginger’s feet and lifted her feet off the floor. Before putting Ginger’s shoes back on, Erin gave her toes a little kiss, causing Ginger to exclaim through her gag, “UMMMMM!,” and give a frantic twist in response. With her shoes back on and her bound feet set chastely on the floor, Ginger watched Erin put on her own shoes and go clicking down the hall to the front of the house.


Ginger couldn’t help but sigh. She felt something like stage fright at what was to come. How would Carter react? Everything seemed to be moving so fast now, but Ginger couldn’t move at all. She felt packaged and prepared at a time when she would usually be primping and getting herself perfectly groomed for the appearance of a man. All she could do now was avoid moving too much so she wouldn’t sweat. She also found herself shaking her head to get her hair in place, but her hair wasn’t cooperating. Most of it in fact was held close to her head by the shockingly thick gag – a gag that was becoming a bit too damp for comfort. All Ginger’s nerves were focused on listening for movement at the front door.


She thought she heard a clicking that might be the door opening and closing, but could just be Erin’s little flat shoes. After what seemed an eternity, Ginger saw Erin come trotting down the hall looking over her shoulder. As Erin passed on her way to the back door and the garden gate, she stopped and kissed Ginger’s gagged lips and said, “Oh, how I envy you. Here he comes! Eeeee! You’ll have to tell me all about it!” And then Erin was gone. Ginger was all on her own – trussed up and gagged. All she could do was wait and the anticipation made her throb between her legs so that she didn’t think she could bear it.


She sat still with her feet flat on the floor in her dainty little shoes. Then she heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall and then there was Carter in the door looking at her. He gave her an amused glance and said, “Keep your seat. I’ll make my own drink and sit with you in a moment.” He gave her a winning smile and proceeded to the bar and with an infuriating amount of nonchalance, he took an unreasonable amount of time making an unnecessarily complicated drink.


Ginger just sat there at first, her arms and feet gently pulsating against the ropes and her teeth chewing thoughtfully at her gag. She had been tied up for so long now that it almost felt normal, but to have Carter in the room acting like nothing was in the least bit out of the ordinary made her heart beat with an anticipation that was difficult to bear. The fact was that Ginger was an emotional mess. She wanted to be kissed and fondled now and it seemed that Carter was going to be as much of a tease as Erin had been. Ginger recognized that she was in one those damsel situations that were often played for laughs in the movies. She had thought about this first when she was trying to come to terms with being tied up by the burglars so much earlier that day.


Finally Ginger overcame her feelings of shy subservience and spoke. “So how was your day?” What Carter heard was, “Pho, how uv oo ay?”


Carter looked over his shoulder and said, “Yes, the weather was quite nice today. I heard you took a wellness day from work?


“Umm hmmmm.”


Carter took his drink and sat in the very chair that Erin had occupied until a very few moments ago. He crossed his legs, took a sip and gave Ginger a look that made her squirm involuntarily. She noticed her feet were up on her toes and that her shoes had slipped off her heels. She also noticed that Carter quite obviously appreciated that.


“A wellness day can be quite relaxing, but you look a little tense. You eyes look a little wild. But you look very nice. I’ve never seen you look better in fact.”


“Ib ud ee mife if oo ud iph ee.”


“You know Ginger, I can barely understand you with that gag in your mouth, but I guess it’s hard to take it out with your hands and arms tied behind you. Let me finish this drink and I’ll come over and sit next to you – with your permission.”


“O eph, eeph oo.”


Carter laughed and so did Ginger. Ginger slid her stockinged feet out of her shoes and began rubbing them on the carpet – pulling and pushing against the ropes around her ankles. She arched her upper body and began slowly, rhythmically struggling against those ropes. She hoped to drive Carter to a similar level of passion that she was feeling – a passion infinitely elevated because it was so long deferred. All she could think about was how Erin’s lips and hands had felt and she was desperately hoping for the same from Carter as soon as possible.


“So how did you get all tied up? I assume somebody had a good reason – perhaps you provoked someone and tried their patience. They certainly did a nice job – a very neat package indeed. And yet despite being bound and gagged, you seem to have made a surprising number of phone calls. The question is; what should I do with you? I don’t think I’ll untie you just yet. What so you think?


“I phink oo foob uck ee mow!”


“Ha, ha. Well that would be fun. Perhaps I will ‘uck oo mow.’”


Ginger was beginning to have a new appreciation for the term ‘hot and bothered.’ She was growing damp all over and her body felt as if it had a throbbing furnace between her legs.


To her great relief, Carter finished his drink in one long gulp and got up out of his chair. He lay on the floor at Ginger’s feet and with one hand he grasped her bound ankles and lifted her feet up so he could kiss her stockinged soles. Ginger breathed in sharply at this excruciatingly sharp and powerful pleasure. Her bosom strained against the ropes and her hands made tight little fists behind her. She pushed her feet against Carter’s face as he licked and kissed her feet through the thin nylon. She hoped her feet smelled nice, but she didn’t really care.


Now Ginger was in some sort of damsel-in-distress dream world. Every nerve was concentrated on taking part in the intense pleasure and because her body was helpless, her mind retreated into itself. She closed her eyes and felt Carter’s mouth make it’s way up her legs until his head was under her skirt and kissing between her thighs. She opened her legs as far as her bound ankles would allow and was rewarded by Carter’s tongue lightly licking her vulva. Ginger cried out and thrashed mightily against her bonds. She tried to thrust her hips closer to Carter’s mouth, but without her hands to push his head down, she was at his mercy.


As Carter continued to lick between her legs, Ginger began to buck and thrash in an uncoordinated and spasmodic manner. It seemed inconceivable that the power growing within her was insufficient to break the ropes that bound her and she was constantly amazed that she was still held in the soft, cotton coils. She had never, ever felt so wantonly, so single-mindedly desperate for anything as she did for the promised orgasm.


Just as she thought her wave of passion was about to break, she was conscious that Carter’s tongue was no longer lapping at her vulva, nor was his head even between her legs. She opened her eyes and fought the ropes like mad when she saw that he was not even in the room. Ginger was an absolute mess. She was sweaty and her gag was soaked with spit. She was breathing hard and calling out, “Oo um ack ere! Oo amp eev ee ike iph!” What the hell was Carter doing? Couldn’t he see that it was his duty to finish what he had started?


The soles of Ginger’s feet were flat up against the front of the couch and she was leaning forward – her fingers clutching at the air and her arms and hands trying once again to slip out of the ropes. Carter came sauntering back into the room and observed, “You look rather tense. It’s no wonder someone saw fit to tie you up so skillfully. Perhaps you need to lie down.”


Carter bent down and untied Ginger’s feet and helped her stand up. With one hand on her right arm, he propelled her down the hall, up the stairs and into her bedroom where he turned her around and pushed her gently down on the bed. He flipped her on her stomach and Ginger felt her feet being tied together once again. Her emotions ramped up a notch when she felt the rope being knotted. They ramped up even more when Carter kissed the exposed soles of her stockinged feet before he took yet another rope and leashed her ankles to the cross post of the footboard.


Ginger rolled over onto her side and thrashed around like a fish out of water. She watched with horror as Carter left the room, closed the door and locked it behind him. Once again Ginger was all alone, bound hand and foot and gagged. She wasn’t used to being treated as a helpless object. Whenever she had had sex before she had always been an extremely enthusiastic and active participant – her hands and feet being free. Now she lay quietly, her head on a pillow and her mind racing. Then suddenly she had a total change of mood. For most of the day she had been tied one way or another and had always fought it – always trying to get loose or negotiate the terms of her captivity. Now for the first time she was overcome with total acceptance of her plight. She could barely move and yet her body had never been so filled with desire. It occurred to Ginger that she was very lucky to be feeling the level intensity that she felt. She had certainly never felt this level of passion before and it was all because she was tied up. As frustrating as it was to be physically helpless, she was beginning to accept the fact that it was for the best.


Ginger decided to relax and give in. She was beautiful and well-dressed and was a delectable morsel that Carter would soon devour. She looked down at her bound feet and saw how lovely they were – her toes pointing under their stockings and the wrinkles at her ankles where the soft white cotton rope wrapped around them. She noticed that her dress had parted at her bosom and that her nipples were barely covered. A large masculine hand would soon find its way there and elsewhere.


Ginger let herself surrender to the tranquility of helplessness. She lay on her side and retreated into her mind. Her body continued to gently writhe against the ropes, but it was not so much a struggle as it was a symbiotic relationship – her body enjoying the constriction and wanting to feel it. All she had to do was wait and be grateful that she was capable of such overwhelming passion and desire. She sighed and realized how busy she always was – always doing things and making things happen, always making sure she looked her best. Even sex had an element of work in it. But being tied up meant that all that was out of her hands completely.


Ginger watched, as the light grew dim as the sun set. She imagined how she looked and decided that she beat out any damsel in distress she had ever seen in the movies. She had never imagined that she would be such a damsel, but she had been the captive of burglars, her friend Erin and now evidently her lover Carter. He had never once hinted that he would untie her before he was good and ready to do so. As Ginger accepted her status as a bound and gagged captive a flood of relief swept through her mind and body. She trusted Carter and knew that he would soon give her exactly what she wanted. With difficulty, Ginger sat up on the bed and looked at her legs extended straight out in front of her. Her strong legs were no match for the skillfully tied rope around her ankles. Her stockinged feet with their painted toenails looked very nice tied together side by side.


Then she stiffened as she heard the door unlock. There was Carter. She smiled at him beneath her gag and he smiled back.


“You look much more relaxed than before. When I left you, you literally looked fit to be tied ha, ha. So are you ready?”




Ginger watched as Carter undressed. His hard body slowly revealed itself and Ginger was gratified to see that his dick looked as hard as the rest of him. She shivered as she imagined how that would soon feel within her. Her feet tried to pull up to her butt and were brought up short by the rope that leashed them to the footboard. Carter laughed as he watched her reaction.


He sat down on the bed next to where her head lay on the pillow, his dick not twelve inches away. It was all Ginger could look at. He smoothed her hair and said, “You’ve been tied up a long, long time. Before we untie you I think we’ll have to let you have a good hard slow fuck. What do you think?”


“O eph eeph.”


“I’m glad to hear you say that because you really have no choice in the matter. But I was encouraged earlier by the fact that you had on no underwear. I took that to mean that you wouldn’t offer any obstacles to being penetrated. Not that you could fight me off even if you were untied. But I think I’ll enjoy seeing you squirm in your bonds.


Ginger’s only response to this leisurely drivel was to look Carter in the eye, struggle against the ropes and exclaim, “UMMMMmmmmmmUUUMMM!”


Carter got up and untied Ginger’s feet and helped her off of the bed where she stood all disheveled and not sure what to do next. Carter turned his back and went to the couch and sat down. “Come sit on my lap dearest.”


Ginger almost felt odd with her feet untied, but her hands and arms still held fast behind her and her mouth still filled with the gag. But she began to move slowly toward Carter walking with little dance steps, her skirt swishing with the motion. She stood in front of him and raised an eyebrow as a plea for help in descending into his lap and guiding his dick into her. Even tied up, Ginger wanted to do the thing as gracefully as possible and she wanted to do it quickly.


Carter put one of his hands on each of Ginger’s hips and guided her onto his lap. They were both throbbing like mad and as Ginger felt him enter her, she thrashed against the ropes and moaned beneath her gag. She was so happy her feet were free, but with her hands tied behind her she really couldn’t quite control the up and down movements that were required in this situation. Fortunately Carter was there to help, but his idea of what was needed seemed too slow for Ginger. She wanted a jackhammer between her legs. Carter was only interested in providing a huge, slow piston. Ginger had no choice but to reflect that that was usually what she preferred anyway and that the shattering result would only be enhanced. She leaned into Carter’s body with her head resting on one of his shoulders and gave in to whatever he wanted to do.


Ginger settled herself into the slow rhythm. Her body was finally getting what it had wanted for so long. Carter’s member was so hard it felt like smooth marble deep within her and to Ginger it was like a gift long deferred. She almost forgot that her hands were tightly tied behind her and her arms were pinioned to her side. The gag felt almost normal and Ginger entered what could only be described as a dream state – almost an out of body experience. She saw herself as she had been tied at various times during the day and the image of that only boosted deep emotions. She saw herself kicking off her shoes, pointing her stockinged feet and struggling like a damsel in distress against soft white cotton ropes. She went on to image herself helplessly bound in scenarios that had not yet happened.


She saw herself tied up in her office and Carter striding towards her with mischievous intent. Then she was tied completely naked and forced to wait for someone to pay her some romantic attention. She was tied up in her nightgown on the bed, the door locked, listening to people downstairs. Then a shock went through her as she saw Erin lashed to a chair and gagged – her bound hands waving behind her and her stockinged feet flat on the floor – no, Erin had on shoes, but she was kicking them off and waving at Ginger with her bound feet and laughing through her gag.


Then she was almost frightened at the level of passion to which she suddenly ascended. There was a roaring noise in her ears and she felt wet and slippery all over. The feeling was excruciating. Ginger began to thrash and twist in a jerky spasmodic motion and then the first hammer-like convulsions began. They went on and on. Ginger was crying and laughing at the same time and found that she quite enjoyed yelling at the top of her lungs and hearing it so muffled. Her eyes were streaming with tears and she was as happy and excited as if she were on a rollercoaster. It was all so sad; it was all so beautiful. In a word it was sublime and it went on and on.


Finally Ginger was aware that her body was being returned to her and it was infinitely more relaxed than she thought possible. She grew limp and simply lay where she was with her eyes closed and a deep, gurgling laugh emerging from beneath the now very wet gag.


She felt Carter roll her off of him and arrange her on the couch on her stomach. She was dimly aware that she was being untied, ungagged, undressed and then gently carried to the bed. Her eyes half opened occasionally in order to watch, but she was barely capable of speech or movement. Carter kissed her here and there and then was next to her in the dark. That’s the last she remembered.


Hours later, Ginger woke up. There was Carter still with her. She checked the clock and found that it was only midnight. She got up and stretched her somewhat stiff arms and shoulders and walked around the room happy to be untied and yet looking forward to the next time. She still felt dreamy and completely satisfied. At the window, she paused and looked out over the back yard at Erin’s house. The lights were on.


Then she had to stifle a laugh as she saw a naked Erin run by the windows with her arms and hands tied tightly behind her and a thick gag in her mouth. As she ran past the window, she looked back for a moment. Seconds later Erin’s fully-clothed husband strode quickly by. After a few moments Ginger was rewarded by the sight of Erin’s husband passing back across the windows with Erin draped over his shoulder. Ginger could see that Erin was in fact completely naked and that now her feet were lashed together. Erin was struggling like mad and her face was excited and happy.


“Well,” Ginger thought, “I can’t wait to put the ropes on that little minx.” Ginger went back to bed and smiled at the thought of how much fun they would all have when Erin was in Ginger’s clutches. Then she remembered her ex-husband’s promised money and found that she didn’t even care.


Copyright, Rayron D’Olier, 2005