Nothing to Do and Nowhere to Go
By Rayron D'Olier
(Note from the author: If
you like this story, there are similar tales on the Damsel Theater
Bondage Tokens Galleries website. They are
spread around on several pages, but there is a direct link that will take you
to all of the stories. While this story is posted in the interests of shameless
self-promotion for a pay site, I will, from time to time post more here, even
if they are exerpts.)
Nothing to Do and Nowhere to Go
Abigail had nothing to do.
More accurately, all there was to do was to sit in her chair and think. This
was unlike her to be so idle, especially given the fact that nominally she was
still at work. She would normally have found something to do, and in fact was
quite eager to do just that, but this afternoon was quite a bit different
because she was tightly tied to the chair she was sitting in.
It was a simple wooden
chair with horizontal slats for the backrest and rungs between the legs. It was
such a chair that one might have found on any number of front porches in a
previous era, but was now generally seen only in junk stores. Abigail was roped
to the chair quite securely. Her arms were behind the backrest of the chair and
her wrists were crossed and tied together. Ropes went around her body and arms,
above and below her bosom and were cinched between her arms and the back of the
chair's backrest. Her ankles were tied together with a quantity of cinched rope
and it must be noted that she was also effectively gagged. The people who did
this to her had wound turn after turn of a wide strip
of bed sheet between her teeth and then more turns over her mouth and the lower
part of her face.
Abigail was a lovely woman
in her late twenties. She was around five feet, six inches and displayed a
compact, physically fit appearance. Her breasts were small and firm, her waist
was thin and widened out to hips that were too wide to make Abigail perfectly
happy, but which were widely admired by the male of the species. Her leg
muscles were well defined and she had hands and feet that could only be called
cute and dainty.
Her face was sweet and
intelligent with wide forehead and cheeks tapering from there to a round,
slightly prominent chin. It was a face punctuated by large, startling green
eyes, a straight nose and, if we could see her mouth beneath the gag, we would
see small, but full, lips composing a wide mouth that produced heartbreaking
dimples when Abigail smiled and laughed. Her hair was a very light brown, a
sort of mousy blonde, and was cut so that it ended just below her jaw line. It
was parted in the middle and flipped up and out. It was a very perky head of
hair and was intended to be just that.
Today Abigail was dressed
in a typical work outfit. She had on a black, sleeveless jumper that was
somewhat closely fitted around her upper body, but flowed out into a full,
knee-length skirt. Under the jumper was a white blouse with a collar and long
sleeves. She had on natural color pantyhose that were
a little on the thick side and her shoes were black pumps with low heels and a
tee-strap just above her toes.
Abigail just sat there.
She had been bound to this chair and gagged for about thirty minutes and
occasionally she would test the ropes that held her body so securely. She would
twist her shoulders and pull and push with her arms. Her hands would flutter
about behind her as her fingers searched for an elusive knot or tried to find
an angle that would enable them to slip through the ropes. This all felt very
hopeless and only had the effect of making the ropes feel tighter and making
the old chair creak under her weight. It wasn't so
much that the ropes were painfully tight, but they were quite snug and offered
little slack. If Abigail sat very still, the ropes seemed to relax and had only
a little more pressure than a wristwatch band or a belt, but the second she
tried to move, the ropes would become all too obvious and keep her body in the
exact position she was tied in. The gag wasn't as bad as she had feared. She
was effectively silenced, but the only problem was that as her mouth became a
little dry, the gag itself became somewhat damp around her mouth and Abigail
decided that the creeping wetness along her cheeks was the gag's worst feature.
She rather dreaded the thought of drooling and her inability to do anything
about it accentuated her feeling of helplessness.
She had stopped struggling
in earnest by now and was merely going through the motions from time to time;
her shoulders and arms twisting and her hands flapping behind her; her legs
lifting up on her toes and alternately pulling and pushing against the ropes
around her ankles. When she did this, her shoes would slip off her heels and
Abigail was careful not to let them fall off. She was conscious of feeling an
increased vulnerability when her shoes would fall halfway off her feet, so she
would always work her heels back into them. Her feet weren't actually tied to
the chair, so she had been able to lift her legs out straight in front of her
to see how her ankles were tied and if, perhaps, there was any hope of freeing
her feet, but as her muscular legs worked back and forth against the ropes, she
could tell there was no useful slack to be found there. She scolded herself for
admiring her very shapely legs as they pulled against her ankle ropes.
"What a time for vanity," she muttered aloud. Of course this came out
as, "Uph uh I phuh amma-eee."
She was now looking around
the room, absentmindedly flexing against the ropes. Her legs were up on the
balls of her feet and were bouncing up and down slightly as a symptom of her
rather urgent wish to be not tied to a chair in the middle of the afternoon.
Her heels were slightly elevated and had slipped out of both shoes. Abigail
decided, semi-consciously, that the cool air in the room felt nice on her
stocking feet as she surveyed her surroundings. She retreated into her thoughts
rather than continuing the hopeless task of escaping her bonds.
As she looked around the
room, her mind was playing the mental movie of how she had come to be in such a
predicament. Abigail was the chief, and only, researcher for a private
investigation firm. She had been recently divorced and had, of course, left her
job at her ex-husband's law firm and had found this one. It was a small, but
successful operation consisting of the owner and three other investigators. The
owner of the company, Robert, had been in the business for fifteen years and
was in his early forties. Before that he had been a policeman. Their office was
upstairs in a building that had had been built around 1900 as part of the main
shopping area of a small town a small town that had since been absorbed into
the suburbs of a larger city. She liked her job. She was curious and a bit of a
voyeur and looking into other peoples' lives was an endlessly fascinating, if
somewhat guilty, pleasure. She liked her boss, Robert. He was an extroverted
man, but with the ability to play his cards close to his chest in professional
and personal matters. He was unmarried, but she didn't know why, and they had a
professional, but slightly flirtatious working relationship. She enjoyed this
and often wondered if there was any potential for any deeper emotional fun with
Robert. She had been with the company for almost a year and so far, Robert
hadn't encouraged any socializing between them. Nor had she.
Abigail also liked their
office. It filled the entire top floor, the third, of the old building. The
stairs ran directly from the street. The stairs ended at the back of the building
where a long hallway ran beside the banisters. There were four doors in this
hallway and a window at each end. The front of the office overlooked the street
and the main entrance to their office was the door nearest the front window.
Robert had left the office just as he had found it with the lobby and
conference area in the front, his office just behind, the files, the computers
and research area behind that and finally the room Abigail was now tied up in.
The other investigators were generally out in the field and when they were in
the office, they used workstations in the research room, which was Abigail's
domain. She didn't know them very well, but she seemed to work well with them
all.
The afternoon in question
was a Wednesday and Abigail had been in the office alone. All the investigators
were out. Robert was testifying in court and would probably not be back at all.
She was at her computer when she heard the lobby door open. She went to the
front to see two unannounced visitors, a man and a woman. They were
unremarkable looking, both in their late thirties. The man was stout and of
average height and was wearing a black business suit and black cowboy boots,
the only jarring note. The woman was a pretty redhead, wearing a white twin
sweater set and a subdued plaid skirt that was mostly black, white and blue.
She had on transparent, white pantyhose and black, three-inch high heels. Her
shoes were low cut and revealed much of her arches and toes, and had a Mary
Jane strap low on her instep. Abigail greeted them.
"May I help
you?"
The man smiled and said,
"Are you the proprietor of this establishment?"
Abigail answered,
"No, I'm sorry, the owner is out. I am the researcher. I could take your
names and phone number and we could set up an appointment if you'd like. The
owner won't be back today I don't think." Abigail noted that the man had
an accent that sounded vaguely British, but maybe it was British as a second
language.
The man smiled even
broader and said, "Actually, we prefer to chat with you, although all we
really have to say is that we intend to search your office." The woman
giggled.
This surprising statement
took a moment to register and when Abigail spoke it was to merely stammer out,
"What?"
The man laughed,
"Your reaction reveals that you have understood my unorthodox intention,
but that you do not know how to react. Don't worry, you will not have to make a
decision or search your mind for an appropriate reaction. We will not hurt you,
I promise a thousand times, but you will do nothing to stop us, I assure you. I
told a lie just now. We will hurt you if you make yourself an obstacle."
The man lifted his suit coat to reveal a rather large automatic pistol under
his left arm.
Abigail looked at the
woman to see that she was actually pointing a similar pistol at her. Abigail
felt weak and she sat down in an office chair behind the reception desk. She
found the wit to quickly say, "The place is all yours."
The woman stopped pointing
the gun at Abigail and let it fall to her side where it was pointing at the
floor. She spoke for the first time, "As my friend here mentioned, if you
cooperate, we won't hurt you at all. We're not murderers or horrible goons, but
we are also not exactly solid citizens. You understand?"
Abigail nodded thoughtfully.
The woman continued as if
she was a stewardess giving instructions to the passengers, "Since we
can't let you know what we are looking for and we need to give our undivided
attention to the work at hand, we will have to tie you up a little while we are
here. We'll let you go later tonight."
At this alarming
statement, Abigail blurted out, "I thought you said you wouldn't hurt
me."
The woman gave a chuckle,
"Being tied up doesn't hurt. I've been tied up and I can assure you that it
doesn't have to hurt at all. My friend here is quite good at tying people up
and I'm no slouch either." The woman held up an overnight bag, "We
have all the proper materials to keep you out of our way, so just relax and
trust us. What an absurd statement. There's no reason for you to trust us and I
know you'll be scared, but try not to be. It'll be OK. Now stand up and turn
around."
Abigail had already
assumed the attitude of a prisoner. The man and woman's calm air of command and
their aura of menace were irresistible. They were serious and there wasn't the
slightest indication that they were less than totally determined to do just
what they intended to do. Abigail found herself involuntarily standing, turning
around and waiting. She heard the woman open the bag and rustle around and
heard the heavy tread of the man's cowboy boots and the clicking of the woman's
heels as they walked around the reception desk to where Abigail was standing.
She felt the woman grab
her arms and gently pull them behind her. She felt the man's larger hands cross
her wrists and quickly, thoroughly, tie them together. All this time the woman
kept up a soothing patter along the lines of, "There, there, this won't be
too bad, won't hurt at all, a little uncomfortable maybe, he really knows his
stuff, etc."
Then the woman said,
"Open wide honey." Abigail turned her head around to look at the
woman, but she just pushed Abigail's head back around and repeated, "Open
wide."
Abigail opened her mouth
wide and the man began winding turn after turn of a wide strip of linen between
her teeth until her mouth was full. Then he began winding the strip flat over
her mouth and covering the lower part of her face. He pulled it tight and
knotted it behind her head.
Abigail tested the ropes
around her wrists while she was being gagged and found that they were firmly
bound. It felt as if there was a thick, solid, but soft band of unyielding
cotton holding her wrists together. The individual ropes were not so much in
evidence.
With her hands tied and
her mouth gagged, the woman turned Abigail around to face them and said,
"Now lead ahead and show us every room in the office. Just start walking
until we've come to the last room and then nod your head."
There were only the three
rooms apart from the lobby they were in, all with internal doors and doors
leading out to the hallway. Abigail led them through Robert's office, through
her research room and then finally into the back room, which had been fitted
out as a sort of bedroom, by Robert, for when he worked late and didn't want to
go home. They reached this room and Abigail nodded her head and said, "Aph if." Her faint, muffled, incoherent voice deeply
surprised her.
The man laughed and said,
"Are you sure aph if?"
Abigail rolled her eyes
and looked away from them.
The woman said, "He
is a wit isn't he? OK honey, sit in this chair."
She brought the chair
behind Abigail and gently shoved her into it. They tied her to the chair in the
previously described manner and the man immediately left the room. The woman
took the skeleton key out of the ancient internal door and went to the hall
door and locked it. She turned to Abigail and said, "We won't be very long
and I hope you won't be too bored. Just don't be scared and don't try to get
loose. I don't think you can, but if you do we'll have to tie you up in a much
more uncomfortable position and I just know you'd rather avoid that. Ta ta." The woman closed the
door. Abigail heard her lock it from the other side and then she was alone.
Thirty minutes later we
rejoin Abigail as she looks around the room that has now become a very close
prison indeed. As mentioned, the room was fitted out as a bedroom by Robert,
but it was very minimally furnished. They had placed the chair Abigail was tied
to at the side of the bed near the footboard and so that she was facing the
headboard and a bedside table. The hall door was behind her; the internal door
was to her left. The bathroom door was next to the internal door and there was
a window across the room to Abigail's right that overlooked the alley between
this building and the row of buildings a block over.
The room was a bit grim.
There were no pictures on the wall, no decoration; just a bed, bedside table
and the chair she was tied to. There was a light over the bed's headboard that swiveled out from the wall and an overhead light in the
middle of the ceiling. The only interesting thing in the room for Abigail was
an ancient-looking phone on the bedside table, and her attention kept coming
back to the phone. What to do about the phone? Why was it even there? She had
never noticed it before and had certainly never used it. It looked to be at least
thirty years old. She couldn't remember even hearing it ring, but it had a cord
going into a jack in the wall so surely it worked.
Except for struggling
against the ropes as she sat in the chair, Abigail hadn't really given much
thought to any indirect means of escape, now she thought to herself, 'I
can't get untied. That's a fact. Even if I did get untied, I'm locked in this
room. I have a choice: do nothing or do something. I must either get to the
phone and use it or get to the window and try to get someone's attention. Those
are my only choices.' Abigail was now over the initial shock at being bound
and gagged by two complete strangers and while her body was helpless, her mind
was now clearing rapidly and she was able to analyze her situation. 'I will
try the phone first,' she decided.
Her struggling had
demonstrated to Abigail how little movement she was capable of and she kept
having the startling realization of how bizarre this all was. Here she was in a
room, barely fifteen feet square. She had crossed this room many times in less
than two seconds, but now crossing that same room would require the most
careful planning and strenuous effort. Crossing that little room would be
harder than driving her daily ten-mile commute or running her daily five-mile
jogging route. The distance from where she was sitting and the phone was about
eight feet. Abigail decided to get close enough to the phone so she could lift
the receiver off its cradle with her feet. Then she would move next to the
phone where she could dial it with her nose and somehow make herself
understood. Perhaps the emergency people would be suspicious at her gagged
noises and trace the call.
Abigail began by working
her heels back into her shoes. She carefully tipped forward in the chair and
slowly straightened her legs until she was standing with the chair suspended
over the floor. The fact that she was tied to the chair forced her to bend
forward at the waist. She decided that hopping would be too noisy; she could
hear her captors in the very next room going through files, talking and
laughing. In standing, Abigail felt all the ropes tighten significantly,
especially those around her ankles, but she found that there was just enough
slack in the ankle ropes for her feet to take very tiny, tiny steps of about
one inch. All the floors in the office were of polished hardwood and she could
slide her feet without making much noise.
Abigail began her
laborious progress toward the phone, one inch at a time. It was profoundly
irritating and the sense of not being able to stride to the phone in two steps
as she normally would, gave her a feeling of overwhelming helplessness. Her
hair also kept falling in her eyes and she was afraid this would upset her
already precarious balance. Another threat to her balance was the chair hitting
against the back of her butt and thighs as she wriggled forward. After what
seemed forever, Abigail decided that she was close enough to the phone for her
legs to stretch out and her feet to ease the receiver off its cradle. She
slowly bent her knees until the front legs of the chair touched the floor and
then she slowly let the back legs pivot down until she was sitting as before.
She pointed her toes until her heels slipped out of her shoes and then slid her
stocking feet all the way out of them. She felt a curious relief at the feeling
of the cool floor under her feet.
She stretched her legs out
in front of her and began to fumble with the phone's receiver with her toes.
She got the receiver between both feet and let it slide silently to the
tabletop. Now she was faced with another journey of several feet so that she
could be close enough to use her nose to dial the phone. She repeated her
standing and shuffling progress and after interminable effort she bent at the
waist and positioned her face directly above the phone. There was no dial tone.
She tried working the buttons on the cradle with her nose several times, but
evidently this ancient phone was connected to nothing but a disconnected wall
jack. Abigail was disgusted. She was standing there like a trussed chicken and
all her efforts had been in vain. She shook her head and shoulders in fury and
felt the ropes grip her. But she also felt something else.
The chair had slipped down
on her body and was hitting her legs much lower than before. She wriggled and
twisted again and there was no mistaking it the chair was slipping out of its
position between her arms and body. She couldn't really see how she was tied to
the chair, but the ropes around her arms and body were evidently not actually
tied to it. In roping her arms to her body, the man had thought it sufficiently
tight that the pressure of the whole package would be enough to keep the chair
in place. 'Not such a goddamn expert,' thought
Abigail with a glimmer of hope. She backed up so that the chair touched the bed
and began twisting and gently shaking back and forth. She tried to use her
hands to push the chair down, but they weren't much use except as a sort of
pendulum in her shaking to rid herself of the chair.
Finally the chair slid out from between her arms and body completely,
its front legs resting on the floor and its back legs against the side of the
bed. Abigail slowly inched forward with the tiny steps that had become her only
means of locomotion until the chair's backrest slid down her back and legs and
was face down on the floor. Now Abigail stood straight up. The ropes around her
body and arms were looser, but were still somewhat effective in constricting
her movement. But she could now bring her hands around to her side to see how
they were tied. She looked and saw that the ropes that went over and under her
bosom were cinched at her elbows and she couldn't see a knot. Her hands were
tied very securely and Abigail once again abandoned all hopes of getting
untied. The next step was the window.
To get to the window would
be a very long journey indeed. She would have to go around the bed and then
across the remaining floor a total of about fifteen to twenty feet. The tiny
step method would take forever. Abigail decided to experiment with hopping. She
stood in place and began hopping up and down a little to see how good her
balance was and how much noise it made. In her stocking feet, she made only a
very faint thump with a small hop and she tried a few forward-motion hops on
her toes. With each hop she would bend her knees on landing as a kind of shock
absorber action that lessened the noise. Occasionally a board would creek and
Abigail would stand very still and listen to the people on the other side of the
door. They were still happily going about their nefarious business and once she
heard the woman giggle uncontrollably.
When Abigail heard the
woman's peals of laughter, she instantly made several bold hops that were much
longer than previously and congratulated herself on traveling a couple of feet. By now she was around the bed
and the farther she got from the door, the more confidant
she became, but on the downside all this effort was making her ankle ropes seem
very much tighter than when she had been sitting down. Her overall muscular
tenseness was also increasing the pressure on her wrists as they moved around
behind her to assist her balance. Her hands were doing their utmost to come
around from behind and maximize her balance, and this made them involuntarily
struggle against her wrist ropes, alternately flapping around and making fists.
By the time Abigail had
covered the distance to the window, she was feeling like she had run a mile
worse than that because running a mile for her was effortless and invigorating.
This hopping around while bound and gagged was very hard work, although she did
feel a certain sense of victory at her freedom to move, relative to that when
she was tied to the chair. Now she looked out of the window to see what she could
see. She had the sudden panicky feeling that she better be able to attract
someone's attention, because if the man or woman came in and found that she had
been roaming around the room, they might fulfill
their promise to tie her more securely and more uncomfortably. 'What's done
is done,' Abigail thought glumly as she surveyed the world outside her
prison.
She looked at the building
across the alley and there was a woman in the window one floor below her! She
was looking down at what seemed to be a copying machine. Abigail riveted her
eyes on this woman and began to will her to look up. Abigail's hands began
twisting and waving as they reflexively tried to escape their bonds and signal
to the woman, open the window, anything. Abigail began bouncing up and down on
the balls of her stocking feet as extreme urgency overtook her. She began mmphing through the gag, but quickly stopped for fear of
alerting her captors. Then the woman looked up directly into Abigail's eyes!
Abigail shook her head and shoulders furiously. Her arms strained behind her to
come around and gesture. The woman smiled at Abigail, waved and disappeared
into the room behind her.
Abigail couldn't believe
it! Couldn't that stupid cow see that her mouth was covered with a goddamn gag?
Couldn't she see that Abigail's breasts were straining against her
motherfucking dress between turn after turn of tight rope? Could she be so dim
and unobservant not to see that Abigail was struggling furiously and was
completely tied up? Goddamn, goddamn, goddamn! Abigail stood there staring, willing the woman to come back and by God redeem
herself by noticing what should be obvious to anyone with the brain of a biddy.
While she was standing
there burning with anger, Abigail felt a slight tapping on her shoulder. She
had felt so many irritating things lately that she had had to ignore; she paid
this no attention, but just twisted her shoulders back and forth to make it
stop. It stopped for a second and then repeated, but this time it was
accompanied by a voice that sweetly said, "Sorry to interrupt you. I guess
you got bored, didn't you? I know just what you mean. Sometimes when my buddy
in there leaves me all tied up alone, I'll do just
about anything to try and entertain myself. I have always found my options are
quite limited. I'm sure you made the same discovery."
Abigail had turned her
head and saw the woman standing right behind her with her hands on her hips and
an amused expression on her face. The woman grabbed Abigail around the waist and
made her hop back a few steps from the window. Then she stepped over to the
window and looked out. Abigail saw her smile and wave at somebody, probably
that she-idiot across the alley. Then the woman drew the curtains shut, turned
to Abigail and said, "Wait right here honey."
Abigail watched the woman
stride out of the room. The woman was in her stocking feet, which was why
Abigail hadn't heard her come in no doubt. Abigail stood where she was tied
like a parcel. As she watched the woman, Abigail found herself filled with envy
at the woman's freedom. She watched her easily cover the distance of the room
in a couple of seconds and walk all the way to the other side of the next room.
All her movements were graceful and easy. Abigail wriggled her hands against
the ropes and envied the woman's ability to just grab an office chair and roll
it into Abigail's room with no problem at all. Abigail was fascinated by the
contrast between her situation and her captors'. The woman rolled the office
chair into the room and came back over to Abigail and began untying her. She
completely untied her, leaving her hands for last and then ungagged
her. She motioned for Abigail to have a seat on the bed and the woman took a
seat in the office chair where she crossed her legs and lit a cigarette.
Abigail hadn't moved from
where she was standing, but when she did it was like a miracle. She was a
little stiff and there were rope marks on her wrists and ankles, but she felt
so free. My God, my body works again. She had no idea how long she had been
tied up but it seemed like forever. They had taken her watch off before they
tied her so she didn't know what time it was, but she was certain she had been
tied up in this room for a couple of hours.
Abigail walked over to the
bed, but first she paused where she had kicked off her shoes earlier and put
them back on. Then she sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard and with
her legs stretched out in front of her. She was stretching her arms and legs,
pointing and flexing her feet. When she looked at the woman, she noticed that
there was a small pistol stuck in the belt of her skirt.
The woman exhaled and
said, "I'm a little put out that you tried to get loose or alert somebody,
but I won't tell Mr. Tough Guy in there. He wouldn't hurt you, but he might get
a little overly thorough when we tie you up again. He's in the front room on
the phone right now, so he doesn't know our little secret."
Abigail shyly asked,
"So what's next. How long are you going to be here?"
The woman smiled,
"Not much longer at all. I'll tell you all about what's going to happen
next so you won't be sitting here worrying when we leave."
Abigail thought, 'So
I'm going to be tied up again obviously.'
The woman smiled as if
reading Abigail's mind and began to explain, "Before we leave here we're
going to tie you up again. Were going to leave a detailed message on your
Boss's answering machines, both here and at home and then we will call
periodically on his cell phone. Altogether, you shouldn't have to wait too long
for your hero to come to your rescue." The woman paused, "Is your
boss any kind of a hero, by the way? To you I mean."
Abigail said, "Could
I have a cigarette?" The woman lit one and passed it to her. "Well, I
like him just fine. We have a lot of fun working together, but we're not dating
if that's what you mean."
The woman looked pensive,
"Well, that's too bad. I was thinking it might be exciting for you to wait
here all tied and gagged. It would give you something to think about."
Abigail said, "Something
you said earlier has been stuck in my mind. You said you had been tied up
before. You implied you had been tied up many times and you said it as if were
a fun thing. What was that all about?"
"Oh, well, Mr. Tough
Guy out there, who's really a big softy when it comes to me, ties me up all the
time. I just love it. I want him to. If he hasn't done it in a while, I'll do
something that will set the game off, like start hitting him or pushing him
away and running from him when we're getting romantic and kissing and stuff.
The first time he suggested such a thing, I got instantly tingly at the very thought and when he actually had me all roped up, I was
awed by the rush of sheer sexual power. I can't describe it. I don't imagine
it's for everybody, but since you're going to be tied up anyway, you might want
to give it some thought.
"When somebody you
trust completely ties you up, there's something about it that destroys all your
emotional and physical defenses. He can touch you
anywhere or touch you until you're about to come and then stop for a while and
then start back again, over and over. You can't do anything about it. You are
at the mercy of his whims. Your body keeps telling you to get moving and get
satisfied, and the body is so surprised when it can't move at all. You can't
even touch yourself worth a damn. All you can do is sit there or lie there and
struggle and wriggle and wait for him to finish you off when he's damn good and
ready. The payoff is that waiting so long while being so turned on means that
when you do finally come, it's like a bomb went off inside you. It's more
powerful than LSD. I've damn near fainted sometimes.
"And the whole time
you're tied up it's just so much fun. I like to be tied up with all my clothes
on so he can unbutton and unzip me and I try to fight him and keep him from
doing it. The fact that nothing I do makes any difference makes me feel twice
as helpless and twice as excited. Sometimes he'll get me all worked up and then
just go sit across the room and talk to me. It's such a thrill to realize that
he's only a few feet away, but he might as well be a few miles away for all I
can do about it. And when he does touch you, every part of your body is so
sensitive. Sometimes he'll just come over and slip a shoe off me and start
kissing my foot. Now, I like that all the time, but when I'm tied up, it just
about sends me through the roof. If you've never tried it, I would highly
recommend it. Do it with the right guy though, I mean, Mr. Tough Guy is
actually quite the gentleman. He treats me very nice when he captures me and I
try to fight and struggle. Sometimes it makes us laugh so hard that he'll have
to leave the room until we calm down. It takes some thought and technique and
you've both got to know each other's limits. In other words, start slow and
simple. There's even books on it and stuff on the internet. How-to stuff, ya know?"
Abigail had heard of these
games before, but never out of the context of hardcore sadomasochism. What the
woman told her sounded like they were just playing an innocent game.
"Well, you were right that it didn't hurt the way he tied me. Is that the
way he ties you? I mean, there was no way I could get loose, but I wasn't in
pain at all. I also noticed my body being surprised kinda
like you said. Every now and then my hands would try to come in front of me to
help me do something and it would startle me when they couldn't."
The woman snubbed out her
cigarette and said, "Oh yeah, he tied you just like he ties me sometimes.
Other times we do things a little different, but I've got to tell you that
watching him tie you up made me just a little jealous. Ha ha,
he thought that was a pretty good joke on me all right. Well anyway, its time to get you all bundled up again. It's about 5:30.
We'll need an hour before we can safely start calling the boss man. If things
go OK, you won't have to sit here but about two hours. Now stand up and turn
around."
Abigail was surprised to
find that she wasn't particularly dreading what was coming next. She snubbed
out her cigarette, swung her legs off the bed, stood up and turned around with
her back to the woman.
The woman grabbed both
arms and said, "I'm going to rope you a little different from the way Mr.
Man did."
Abigail felt the woman
position her arms so that her forearms were parallel to each other, at right
angles to her body and so that they nestled in the small of her back. Then the
rope was wrapped vertically around her wrists. After that it was cinched
between her wrists and firmly knotted. This felt much more constrictive than
the way she had been tied before with her wrists crossed diagonally and her
hands extending almost to her butt.
Then Abigail felt rope
being wrapped around her arms and body just below her bosom and above her
elbows. After this she felt the woman cinch the rope between her arms and body
on both sides and then pull it all tight and knot it between her shoulder
blades. When the woman bent down to sort through the remaining rope, Abigail
tested her bonds and found that she had very little up and down movement to her
hands and could move her arms side to side only a little more than that. The
rope around her body felt like a tight bear hug and her hands could only wave
around behind her, her left hand pointing to her right and her right hand
pointing to her left.
Abigail looked up to see
the woman smiling and watching her struggle. "Just relax and give into it
and think of some stud coming to rescue you or maybe just drive you nuts. Ha ha ha. Now let's sit on the bed
up close to the headboard to we can lean you back on those pillows."
The woman had to help her
move back against the headboard and get comfortable. She was now sitting on the
side of the bed nearest the bedside table with her legs stretched out in front
of her along the length of the bed. The woman doubled a rope and began wrapping
it around Abigail's legs directly above her knees. Abigail found herself
interested in how this was done and noted the cinching between her legs and how
that resulted in a snug, but gentle tightness. The knot appeared to be a
standard square knot, which Abigail actually knew how to tie. The woman then
crossed Abigail's ankles and tied them the same way as her legs wrapping,
cinching and knotting. "I crossed your ankles so you can't go hopping
around. I wanted to warn you, because if you try hopping around like that you
will fall. Don't even try it."
The woman held the strip
of bed linen Abigail had been gagged with out at arm's length and found the center of it where she then tied a thick knot. "Open
wide," she said for the second time that day. Abigail opened wide and the
woman inserted the knot into Abigail's mouth. Then she began winding the linen
around and around Abigail's head and between her teeth in both directions and
finally reached back and tightly knotted it behind her head.
"There, I think
that's a very pretty job. You look great. Your boss won't be human if he
doesn't just melt at the sight of such a lovely damsel. In my opinion, you
ought to get him to play with you for awhile before he lets you go, but maybe
you don't like him that much. Anyway, it was nice meeting you; sorry we didn't
get to chat more. No need to get up, I can find my own way to the door, ha ha. Bye bye." The woman gave
a little fluttery wave with her fingers, shut the door, and locked it from the
other side. Then Abigail heard the woman test the doorknob and the door came
open an inch or two and then closed again. Abigail couldn't tell what they were
doing, but she heard some scraping and a muffled thump and then she heard their
steps recede into the lobby and out the door. She heard louder steps as they
came down the hall and went down the stairs directly outside the hall door of
Abigail's room.
Abigail was alone now and
didn't quite know how she felt about that. She was rid of those people, but she
was also quite possibly more securely tied than she had been earlier. They were
gone and wouldn't interrupt any more escape attempts, but Abigail didn't think
that escape was even remotely possible. 'But what the hell, I've got nothing
else to do. That's been my problem all afternoon.' Abigail thought of the
woman whose eye she had caught in the building across the alley. She was still
angry with that ninny, but anyway it was past 5 o'clock. Most people around
here had gone home. There were some restaurants and other businesses open on
the ground floors of the buildings, but she couldn't even get off the bed and
leave the room, much less make her way downstairs.
Abigail resolved to occupy
her time wisely and try to escape and the first step is always to assess the
situation. Two advantages over the last time she was bound and gagged were that
first, she could make as much noise as she wanted and second, she wasn't
actually tied to anything. She found that her hands and arms were tied just as
firmly as her earlier impression had suggested. Leaning back against the
pillows was more or less comfortable, but when she leaned forward and twisted
from side to side to try and see her hands, all she managed to do was get a
glimpse of her fingers waving around on either side of her behind her elbows.
She writhed around a bit, but that only confirmed that her upper body was very
snugly packaged indeed. She leaned back against the pillows and noticed how
prominently her breast looked because of the tight rope beneath them. The ropes
pulled her jumper so tightly against her bosom that it almost looked from her
vantage point that she had on a swimsuit.
Abigail turned her attention
to her legs and feet. It was odd to see them, because with one foot crossed
over the other at her ankles, her legs and feet were positioned exactly like
she would position them herself if she happened to be relaxing on the bed. It
was so incongruous to see her lovely legs nonchalantly stretching out before
her, her upper foot slightly moving up and down to some unconscious rhythm in
Abigail's head. The heel of that foot was slipping out of the shoe and Abigail
could see that she had been absentmindedly playing with the shoe with her toes
as she often did during any normal day. "Ha! I'm getting downright used to
this tied up business it seems." Still it was a strange feeling to be
sitting comfortably, but totally unable to move from that deceivingly normal
position.
Abigail flexed her legs
and feet and began pulling and pushing with alternate legs against the ropes.
All this accomplished was to instantly make the ropes seem to tighten their
grip, to make the loose shoe fall completely off her foot and to make her hose
wrinkle at her heels. Abigail pointed her toes and, in spite of herself,
admired the way her legs and feet looked as they strained against the ropes. "A very cute pair of legs and feet. Not bad at
all." Abigail had the absurd thought that tight, white ropes were actually
rather effective fashion accessories. "Not exactly appropriate for the
cocktail party circuit, but for enforced relaxing at home maybe just the
thing," Abigail mused. Of course it would be best if there were a more
appreciative audience than just herself. But who did she have in her life?
Abigail was thinking of the woman and what she had said about her and her man's
tie-up games. Her attention was diverted from the ropes and became fixed on the
ceiling of the grim little room.
As she sat there letting
her thoughts wander, her legs maintained a very slight pulling and pushing
against her bonds her feet alternately pointing and pivoting up. The foot
that was crossed beneath was slowly ridding itself of its shoe, but Abigail
only noticed when it fell off entirely and she felt cool air on the sole of her
foot. Just as before, she was conscious of an increased feeling of
vulnerability in just her stocking feet. She considered trying to get her shoes
back on, but what was the point? 'It would be nice to get to the window,'
she thought, 'It would probably take a
goddamn hour, but maybe the time would pass faster.'
She decided to sit up on
the edge of the bed. She leaned forward and carefully moved her legs to the
side until her calves were dangling off the edge of the bed, conscious that if
she fell over that it would be very, very difficult to sit up again. She sat
there looking around. The bed was just high enough that even when she pointed
her toes, they were a couple of inches shy of reaching the floor. Abigail began
trying to uncross her feet so she could hop around. 'The simplest goddamn thing is such a pain when you're tied up,' she
thought. Her feet pointed and waved as they struggled to slide around under the
ropes and become side-by-side instead of crossed over and under each other. The
ropes around her thighs were much more of an obstacle than she would have
thought in this endeavor. As she unsuccessfully
attempted to uncross her ankles, she looked around the room. In turning her
head, she noticed that the gag was becoming alarmingly spit-soaked and there
was a definite creeping wetness around the corners of her mouth. 'My God,
I'm going to start drooling before long. Ewww.'
She saw that the woman had
left the rolling office chair near the bed. Abigail reached out with her legs
and feet and was only inches from reaching the chair. She slid down off the bed
so that her butt was leaning against the very edge and most of her weight was
on the toes of her pointed feet. Her stockinged soles
were a little slippery on the wooden floor, so she was extra careful. Inch by
inch she moved sideways along the edge of the bed, aware that if this maneuver was unsuccessful, she would have a difficult time
getting all the way back up on the bed. But she was coming closer and closer to
the office chair and was finally in what she thought might be a good position
to stand up, make a couple of very dangerous hops and sit down in the chair.
She slowly stood up so that all of her weight was now on her awkwardly crossed
feet. She rose up on her toes, took a deep breath and made one hop forward, one
that turned her to the left and then one that finally turned her so that her
back was to the chair.
Her balance was extremely
precarious and the way her legs and feet were tied made the ropes feel very,
very tight. She looked behind her and saw that she was in a good position to
sit in the chair. She let her butt fall into it and the chair rolled with her
weight for a couple of feet. She was thrilled at first, but then decided that,
relatively speaking, this was a very small victory. But now at least she could
roam the small room at will by rolling herself in the chair. First stop: The
window.
She found that she made
the best progress by pushing the chair backwards. She spun around a couple of
times just for the fun of it and rather sarcastically shouted out, "Wheeee, hurray, what fun!" She was astonished to hear
this come out as, "EEEEE, uh-aaay, uph ummm!" Then with a bit
of a low, laughing noise coming from behind the gag, she began her journey to
the window. This was the easiest thing she had done since first being tied up
hours ago. "This is much better than hopping," she remarked. The
woman had closed the curtains, so when Abigail pulled up to the window she
stuck her head in the part between the curtains and wriggled her head around
until the curtains were parted on either side of her neck and she could see
out. Anyone looking in from the building across the street would have seen a
very cute, perky female head, with rather disheveled
hair, peering between the curtains. A person more observant than the woman in
the window earlier that day would have noticed that this lovely head had its
lips and teeth parted by a very thick white gag.
An observer standing in
the room behind her would have seen a lovely young woman whose head had
disappeared behind the curtains. They would have noticed that her hands were
alert, with fingers spread out and waving a little, ready to go into action if,
by some miracle, they were released from their bonds. Abigail's legs were up on
the balls of her stocking feet, which were braced backwards to keep her up
against the window. The observer would have noted that her smooth heels and
insteps were nicely revealed and that her hose was wrinkling where the ropes
encircled her ankles. The foot that was tied behind the other had less purchase
on the floor and from time to time the toes of that foot would lose their grip
and wriggle around aimlessly, bouncing up and down and revealing the bottoms of
some very cute, silken toes.
Abigail looked around. She
didn't know what time it was, but it was dusk. There was only a gray, diffused
light in the alley and she could see lights in many windows and the street
light in their stretch of the alley was glowing weakly. She didn't see anyone,
but there were several lit windows across the alley that had blinds and
curtains open and she could see into the rooms of various offices. She was also
increasingly aware that, as darkness fell, she was lit up by the streetlight,
as if she were on a tiny stage, poking her head through the curtains in a comic
way.
There was no audience, but
thinking about being on a sort of stage set off a train of thought in her mind
concerning the inherent drama of her situation. Here she was, a damsel in
distress, just like in the movies a damsel waiting for rescue, but straining
to expedite that rescue in any way possible. She had seen hundreds of movies
and TV shows that included this dramatic device, but had never thought of the
reality. The reality was that she wasn't all that wild about the idea of a
total stranger finding her bound and gagged. The thought embarrassed her. 'That
means I'm not afraid,' she thought, 'and that is very strange indeed.'
All the damsels she had seen, except in comedy scenes, had been terrified. Was
this a comedy? Would her hero laugh when he came in and to find her all trussed
up? The idea was curiously attractive. Her feelings and thoughts began to
depart from the unproductive scene in the alley and start imagining what it
would be like when her boss, Robert, came through the door.
He was an attractive man
in a rough sort of way. He was almost a foot taller than her, which would put
him around 6 feet, 4 or 5 inches and was very lean. His shoulders were
startlingly wide and angular and when he had worn a short-sleeved shirt,
Abigail had often noted that his long arm muscles were rock hard, with a
network of veins running up and down them and standing out in stark relief. He
was in his late forties, so there were a few early signs of aging. His hair had
once been blonde, but was now white and had receded at his temples. His face
was as angular as the rest of him with prominent cheekbones and the sort of
wide jaw and aggressive chin that Abigail associated with professional
athletes. His eyes were very pale surprisingly, alarmingly so and would
have been menacing except for the fact that they usually exhibited a relaxed,
good humor. When she and Robert had been engaged in
their frequent low-keyed and flirtatious exchanges, she noticed that the deep
crow's feet at the corners of his eyes deepened in an affectionate and amused
expression. He wasn't a great laugher, but he was given to displaying a happy,
sloppy grin. She knew he liked her. She knew she liked him. She had often
thought of asking him to go out after work. They had occasionally had drinks in
the office after hours, but so far it was as mere coworkers.
She could do a lot worse
than Robert and since her divorce she had dated absolutely no one. She missed
having a man. It seemed like a long time. It had been a long time. Her marriage
had unraveled over a year before the divorce and
Abigail realized that she was past being ready for male companionship. Her mind
went back to running mind-movies about her rescue. Her mind had departed the
view she had of the alley, but her eyes were still vigilant. Her thoughts were
interrupted by movement in a window directly across from her. It was that same
woman at the copy machine from earlier in the day. She was on a floor above
where she had been before and Abigail could see her in the middle of an office.
She could see now that the woman was really a very young girl, perhaps not even
twenty years old, but Abigail recognized her black pageboy haircut.
"Putting in a long
day, I see," Abigail muttered through the gag. Abigail adjusted herself so
that her head was as high up in the window as possible. Her window was closed,
of course, and so was the one across the street. Abigail couldn't make herself
heard, so she just sat there and watched. She watched the girl, who was dressed
in a green miniskirt and tight, black top walk back and forth across the office
carrying little boxes from one side of the room to the other. The girl's total
and graceful freedom of movement made Abigail feel like a hungry fellow with
his nose pressed to the glass window of a restaurant watching other people eat.
In her present state of bound helplessness, it seemed to Abigail that the
simple ability to use one's legs and feet to cross a room while using one's
hands to carry something was downright miraculous. A man stuck his head in the
door of the girl's office and moved his mouth. The girl moved hers in response
and the man was gone. "Good night, see you tomorrow," said Abigail.
What she heard herself say was, "ooob miphe, eee ooo
oo-ah-woe."
Then the girl put on a
sweater. She bent down to pick something up off the floor and Abigail saw her
lift one foot, put a shoe on it and then do the same with the other foot.
Abigail saw her wriggle one leg on the floor to get that foot in the shoe just
right. Then the girl came to the window, looked right at Abigail, or so it
seemed (Abigail pressed her nose to the window and went, "UMMM UMMM
UMMMM"), and let the blinds fall to the windowsill. The show was over.
Nobody else was in sight. Abigail sighed and leaned back in the office chair,
which surprised her by reclining at a steep angle on its spring-loaded base.
Abigail sat there and stretched her legs out in front of her and put her heels
on the windowsill. She moved her bound feet back and forth in a meditative way
as she returned to her thoughts of being a damsel in need of rescue. Would she
really have preferred the girl to rescue her, perhaps bringing in a whole SWAT
team of strange, lascivious men or would her boss, and yes potential friend,
Robert be much more the thing. But was he even coming?
Did they get in touch with him?
She let her feet fall from
the windowsill, which levered the chair back into an upright position and she
spun around. She began to roll the chair back across the room and she wondered
if the woman had locked the door that led to the rest of the office. She
thought she had heard her do it, but now she couldn't be sure.
She rolled up to the door
and carefully, carefully stood up, turned around with the tiniest steps she
could manage until she was leaning against the wall right next to the door
knob. She strained against the ropes around her arms, body and wrists to move
her bound arms and hands sideways as a unit. With much effort and a few more
tiny steps to the side, she was able to get the fingers of her left hand around
the doorknob. She grasped it and turned it and the door creaked out into the
next room a couple of inches. Abigail had never been more excited. Her options
seemed limitless, but then she noticed that when she tried to push the door
open all the way into the next office, there was something in the way. The
woman or man had put a small, two-drawer file cabinet in front of it. Then
Abigail heard the phone ring. The way she was standing was making the ropes
feel uncomfortably tight on her crossed ankles, but she forced herself to be
still and listen.
The answering machine came
on and she heard the voice of the man who had tied her up earlier in the
afternoon, "Hello young lady, I hope you can hear this. We talked to your
boss just now on his cell phone and he knows everything. He was still downtown
so it will be a little while before he gets to you, but your hero approaches.
Let me put my friend on the phone, she wants to tell you something, I
think."
There was a short silence
and then Abigail heard, "AH HMMMMM. OO APH UH OOOB MIPHE
EEEBEEE."
The man came back on the
line, "If it's any comfort, I tied her just like you are now. She looks
great and she's having fun. She tells me to tell you that you can have fun too.
I think she's a little jealous of you. She should be. Goodbye sweetie
pie."
The phone went dead.
Abigail felt an instant and deep relief as well as a rising sense of hilarity
at the thought of her captors playing their curious little game while leaving
her a phone message. Abigail decided to get comfortable. Standing like this
made all the ropes feel too tight. She made a hop or two, sat back down in the
chair and rolled herself back over to the bed. She
stood up, made as high of a jump as she could (not much) and threw herself on
the bed, not caring if she would be stuck lying down. She pulled her legs and
feet up and rolled over so that she was lying on her side facing the window with
her legs curled up. She wriggled like a worm so that her head could rest on the
pillows and then pushed with her feet until she was well up on the bed and
lying straight and in the middle. Then she rolled over until she was on her
side facing the door. She wanted to see Robert come in. She wondered how long
it would be and how they would both feel.
Abigail was hoping she
would be a fetching sight and that Robert would be at least amused by her
predicament. Abigail was increasingly amused and was increasingly feeling
something else that hadn't yet become clear enough to define. She found herself
gently, rhythmically struggling now. She found that it satisfied something in
her mind and body to pull and push and twist against her bonds so that her
sense of helplessness was accentuated. Her feet and legs were enjoying the
feeling of rubbing against the textured bedspread. The only annoyance was when
her feet bumped against the shoes that she had earlier kicked off, so she
kicked them to the edge of the bed and pushed them on the floor.
As she gently writhed on
the bed, her mind turned inward and she began to imagine lying helpless in
front of Robert. As her mind ran these little movies, her body began to feel a
mounting anticipation. There grew a low, throbbing itch between her legs that
her hands instinctively tried to scratch and when she became aware of her hands
waving behind her in the effort to come from behind her back, the throbbing
between her legs suddenly increased by several degrees. Abigail had to admit
that she was now officially aroused and the fact that she couldn't do anything
about it set off a chain reaction of struggle and reciprocal sexual urgency.
She flexed and twisted against the ropes, not violently, but with an obvious
impatience. The stage analogy that she had been aware of when she sat at the
window occurred to her again. This feeling was akin to waiting in the wings
before going in front of the audience. It was a mixture of nervous energy and
eager anticipation. This combined with the undeniable sexual urgency made every
nerve quiver.
Abigail looked down at her
legs and feet and thought how nice they looked in their hose and how very
exciting it was to see them bound together so securely. Absurd thoughts flew
through her mind. Sequences that were obvious and banal, but that now had
exquisite and significant meaning, 'My legs and feet are tied together by
thin, cotton rope and no amount of struggle can free them. I can't untie them
because my hands are tied behind my back and my arms are tied to my body. I
can't call for help because my mouth is full of this gag. I can't touch myself
and I can't walk around and look for someone to touch me. I can only wait. If
someone were to walk in here and begin touching, I would not be able to stop them.'
Abigail immediately closed
her eyes and imagined how it would feel if Robert was there stroking her gently
between her legs and opening her clothes and touching wherever he liked. She
was now quite wet between her upper thighs and the thought of Robert touching
her helpless body made her shiver and breathe in sharply. It was at that moment
that she heard the front door of the office open. Abigail froze. How
embarrassing to be caught bound and gagged and aroused! Her hands ineffectually
flapped around behind her as they reflexively attempted to go into action and
smooth her clothes and arrange her hair. The ropes seemed to tighten and
reminded her that nothing of that sort was going to happen. Her legs flexed and
her toes pointed in exquisite anticipation. All she could do was wait. How he found her was how he found her. Should she
begin calling out through the gag? She instantly decided it would be more fun
to wait and greet him in some cute way.
She listened and to her
amazement heard Robert (she certainly hoped it was Robert) go to the little bar
he kept in his office and make a drink! And then she heard him make another
drink! At first she felt hurt and neglected, but then realized that this was a
very good sign indeed. His and hers drinks. A toast to the
rescue of the lovely damsel. A touch of fun! She giggled and relaxed.
Everything brought home to her the fact that the pace of events was out of her
lovely, bound hands. She sat back to enjoy what was coming and felt a physical
rush not unlike that of a powerful, but happily exciting drug.
Abigail heard the little
file cabinet move away from the door to her room and then the door slowly
creaked open as Robert came in holding two scotches on the rocks; one in each
hand. He walked into the room in a matter-of-fact manner, glancing and smiling
at her and just saying, "Hello, Abigail. Long day?
Don't get up on my account. Ha ha."
Abigail lifted her head
from the pillow and said, "hhmm,
hhmmm ooo-phheelph."
She brought her feet around and waved to him with one stocking foot. Robert
pulled the office chair back from the bed and sat down. He placed both drinks
on the old wooden chair that Abigail had been tied to earlier that afternoon
and leaned back with a barely discernable smile playing on his lips. He was
looking at Abigail and Abigail was looking at him.
She thought how odd that things should turn out this way. Earlier she had been
quite anxious to escape. She had done everything she could think of to get
untied, but now she was quite happy and excited to be bound hand and foot in
the presence of this very attractive man and in no particular hurry to be
untied either.
Robert continued after he
took a sip of his drink, "Young lady, I admire your willingness to be in
the office past normal hours, but I fail to see how one could get anything done
lying around in bed. I perceive that someone has given you a most plausible
excuse for your idleness by expertly tying you. I admire their technique. I was
talking to the fellow about an hour ago and he assures me that you had no
choice in the matter, so I might consider paying you the overtime, but we have
something to discuss first. How long have we been working together?"
Abigail's face was lit up
with what could only be described as glee. She was now wholeheartedly involved
in this playful game and she said, "Uh-oww uh earph."
"About a year is
it?" Robert looked at the ceiling. "Well, I must say time flies. When
you first came here, I was only months away from a very irritating divorce and
the very sight of your lovely self around the office was a comfort and a
temptation. Your competence at your job only increased my admiration and a
certain growing affection for you, but I wondered if perhaps I was too old for
you. Or maybe I'm just shy. It's really very fortunate that I have found you
this way tonight. I suppose I must untie you, and I
will do so if you will agree to a simple request. My request has no strings
attached. Ha ha, a bad pun. I'll try not to make a
habit of it. I value our working relationship and would do nothing to hurt
that, but your current state of helplessness gives me an advantageous
negotiating position. I'm sure you can see that. Will you consider a simple
request in return for being released?"
Abigail noticed that
Robert was cracking himself up. She had long noticed that he had an inordinate
appreciation of his own wit. It was an endearing flaw that Abigail had
frequently enjoyed in him. To Robert's question she answered simply and
sweetly, smiling around the knotted gag, "Eeph."
Robert took this as a yes, but it didn't escape his notice that as she said
this, Abigail's upper body strained against the ropes and her legs and feet
struggled to free themselves as if to move toward him.
Without a word, Robert
stood up and grabbed Abigail by the shoulders and sat her up on the bed so that
her calves were hanging down the side. Then he smoothed the hair out of her
eyes and sat down again. Abigail almost swooned at the touch of his hands. She
sat there bouncing up and down a little and swinging her feet back and forth,
bumping them against the side of the bed and pointing her toes in an
unconscious attempt to touch the floor. She was the very picture of excited
anticipation with every muscle now taut against the ropes.
Robert was visibly moved
by the sight of her, but maintained a semblance of professional calm, "OK,
I will agree to pay you the overtime and I will untie
you, but you have to agree to let me buy you dinner tonight. It's only 8
o'clock and we can go to a very nice place I know. As I said, no strings
attached and you can rely on me being a perfect gentleman. As a rescued damsel,
it is no more than you deserve and you owe me for the rescue. Agreed?"
Abigail began to laugh a
low, almost aggressive laugh that sounded like, "Ummm
hmmmm hmmmm ummmm hmmmmm." She nodded
her head in quick little up and down motions that couldn't be mistaken for
anything other than eager agreement with Robert's offer.
Robert stood up and moved
over to her and began to untie her feet. He moved up her body and finished by
untying her hands and then the gag. Abigail felt almost weak from the physical
effects of being in the same position so long, but more so from the sustained,
thwarted excitement she had been feeling. She sat back on the bed and Robert
sat back in the chair. She felt a little embarrassed now as her sense of
control over events came back to her with physical freedom. She got up and got
the drink Robert had made for her, slipped her shoes back on and sat back on
the bed again. While she had been tied up there had been an open and intimate
sense of fun between them, but now she was aware that neither of them knew
quite what to say. She decided to save the day.
Abigail looked at Robert.
He was trying not to laugh. She said, "I guess it's obvious, but it's only
fair to tell you that the last fifteen or twenty minutes was a lot of fun and I
was so happy you finally showed a little interest in me. I was beginning to
wonder about you and whether I would have to ask you out myself."
"So you had fun all
afternoon being tied up, eh? I hope I wasn't too unwelcome an
interruption?"
Abigail rolled her eyes.
"No stupid, what was fun was being tied up with you in the room. It was
fun waiting for you too." Abigail said this last with a sweet shyness and
a creeping blush covered her face.
Robert's face began to
take on a bit of color itself, "I know sweetie.
I could tell by looking at you when I came in. I don't think I've been so
pleasantly surprised by a woman's reaction to me in years."
Abigail's suddenly started
as if remembering something, "But what about those people that tied me up.
Aren't you worried and furious about that? How can you sit
there so calm as if we're just having fun?"
Robert laughed, "Oh,
them. Well, I know who they are. I've never met them, but they have a
reputation. They're not really evil or anything and I don't think they did us
much damage. What they were looking for is very important to them, but not so
much to us. I don't even think it would be worth the trouble to turn them in
unless you are determined to get at them for keeping you tied up all evening.
I'll explain the details later."
Abigail reflected,
"They were actually sort of nice to me in a way. The woman told me some
very interesting things that maybe I'll tell you later. I don't care if you
don't care. One thing, though, I don't want to go out in public right now. I
feel like sort of a mess and I've got these rope marks on my wrists. Why don't
you just come to my house and we'll have our first date there?"
Robert actually looked
relieved and happy, "I'm glad you said that. I've had a long day too and
we can sit around and talk without being around other people. I've had enough
of people and I want to hear all about what happened today. And I want to hear
about you."
While driving home Abigail
was happy. The possibilities for amorous adventures tonight were myriad. It had
been so long. Abigail had a deep need to be touched by a man she liked and
trusted. What harm could it do? Back at the office, when Robert wasn't looking,
she had gathered the ropes and gag that had bound her and secreted them in her
purse. At the thought of her bonds traveling with her
to her house, she squirmed in the driver's seat and gave a squeal as she
decided, if things seemed to be proceeding properly
that her extremely state of excitement just might require that her body be
securely restrained later this evening. She began thinking of a suitable outfit
for the occasion.
Copyright 7/2005 by Rayron D'Olier
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