Being blond and beautiful would have been a difficult enough social cross to bear for Susan. Having an outrageous figure made the visual burden that much more complex, making any kind of public appearance an exercise in extreme self-consciousness. Add to this mixed-blessing-dilemma the psychological wrinkle of a B/D-kinky nature, and what we had here was a woman who'd waited too long and hard for her one-and-only to come along.

New friend Joan had been introduced to Susan at a neighborhood dry cleaners, while the two did business with its owner, Thai Moon. They soon struck up an intimate but platonic relationship. Being a luscious looker herself, Joan could easily appreciate the demands being a ‘10’ made on a single female's interpersonal relationships with aggressive men, not to mention jealous rivals.

"You're not telling me something," guessed Joan while the two chatted after dinner one evening.
Susan stood and, while clearing the table, asked, "How can you tell?"
Her new, close friend sat back in her chair to expound on her normally reliable intuition. "Every time our conversation turns to sex, you either change the subject or clam up until my curiosity gives up."
Susan thought it was high time she told someone about her secret longing. "Sorry, it's just a kind of phobia with me."
"You're not a lesbian, are you?"
"Oh, no, nothing like that. Are you?"

"No." Both women breathed an inner sigh of relief and smiled. "But there is something bothering you about your sexuality, isn't there."
"Bothering isn't the word," confided Susan.
Joan cracked a mischievous grin. "...What?"
Her host started to make the coffee. "Have you ever been tied up by a man?"
"Really," realized her now, broadly smiling guest. "...Sure. Hasn't everyone?"
"Not me. What does it feel like?"
"Depends on the man."

This time it was Susan's curiosity peaking. She sat across the table from her experienced friend and waited for the first enlightenment. 
"What was the best experience you ever had with bondage?"
"That one is still in my fantasy imagination. But one guy came very close to matching it." Joan went on to tell one story after another about how she'd been tied and made love to by the most interesting and provocative man she'd ever met. She soon realized they were turning Susan on, and cut the last one mercifully short. 
"What about you? What's your favorite fantasy?"
"Excuse me," said Susan. "I'm gonna take a shower- a cold one."
Joan said nothing as she stood to clear the rest of the dishes and watch her now, very horny friend leave the room.

When she returned, Susan wore a white, terry cloth robe and togs. "Coffee smells wonderful."
"Would you mind if I made a suggestion as to how to deal with your kinky quandary?"
The bondage virgin was all ears. "Is Ricky Martin sexy?"
"Let's get comfortable on the sofa first." 
The two stunning damsels walked slowly into the living room, coffees in hand, and sat on opposite ends of the soft, cushy furniture. 
"Have you ever been hypnotized?"
Susan cracked a curious smile. "No. Have you?"
"Many times. An old boyfriend taught me how to use hypnosis in some pretty incredible ways."
"How does that connect with.?. you know."

Joan took a sip of java and chose her words carefully. "That all depends on the fantasy circumstance, and whether or not you're willing to trust my instincts and experience... Have you ever tied yourself up?"
"...Yes." Susan was suddenly horny again. "Many times."
"Did you ever succeed at binding yourself inescapably?"
The real time bondage virgin's eyes widened a bit. "No, but I came very close a few times."
"But decided not to go that far out on the limb, right?"
"Right. You really do know all about this, don't you?"
"Would you like to try a little experiment?"

Within minutes, Susan was in a deep, hypnotic state, listening obediently to her new friend's carefully planted suggestions. At the end of the 20-minute session, she awoke and asked, "Well, are you going to hypnotize me, or what?" then wondered, 'Why's the coffee cold?'
Joan smiled and played it cool and cagey. "Not tonight. I just wanted to see how willing you were. How about we sleep on it for now, and get back to it over dinner at my place tomorrow night."

When Joan left, Susan removed her robe and spent the next half hour or so puttering around the apartment naked and thinking about all the things they'd shared. The phone rang around midnight.
"Hi, it's me again. Are you having any second thoughts?"
"I'm on my fifty-first at the moment."
"What are you doing?"
"Laying in bed, wondering what you had in mind when you said we should sleep on it. What did you have in mind?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Please stop teasing me."
"Okay, you asked for it. Adios," code-worded Joan before hanging up her end of things.

Susan replaced the receiver, headed for the closet, where she selected a pair of her highest heels, then walked to a nearby chest of drawers for some skimpy-pink undies, which she put on in front of the full length mirror on the closet door. She then opened it and removed a black-leather attaché case containing several skeins of nylon rope. She tossed three tens and a fifty footer on the bed and selected a shiny-red ball gag, which she strapped on loosely around her neck. 
While standing in front of the closet door mirror, Susan used one of the ten-foot lengths of 3/8ths thick, soft nylon to configure a snug crotch rope, knotted in place just below her navel. After setting the last knot, she strolled into the kitchen and picked up the three foot high, black-leather upholstered stool next to the wall phone, carried it back to the bedroom, where she set it between the bed and the mirror, and moved to the mattress.

A pensive second or two passed while Susan stared at the end table drawer. It contained a short length of rope, one she'd been experimenting with for months. Each end contained a lock lasso, one smaller than the other. The hesitation passed, she reached for the drawer, extracted the rope, an end of which she slipped under the crotch rope that ran between the crack in her rump, pulled out some slack, then sat down on the bed and tied her lower thighs and ankles together with two of the ten footers.

Next came the ball gag and the fifty-footer, which was wrapped once around the lower left bedpost. Susan hopped to the stool and sat, whereupon she opened the lasso at the end of the line and slipped it over her shoulders, using the tension created by the post to tighten things up, centering the passive knot between her arms in back. The front of the line caressed her billowing upper body as she brought her arms together as far as she could behind her. Slowly, she used her bound legs to circumnavigate the stool, winding the rope around her shoulders three times before guiding it in the same way below her bust line, thereby encasing her exquisite upper body in rope. It didn't take long to bind her elbows, forearms, and wrists snugly together and to her torso as well.

The line then ran around her waist and forearms until but a few feet remained. Susan hopped to the bed and sat next to the rope post. The end of the line also contained a lock lasso. With some effort, she soon managed to maneuver onto the bed, pull out and roll over the slack, and do what had to be done until its end was in hand. The lasso was then slipped over her bound wrists. A few more seconds of careful and purposeful struggling tightened all the remaining slack, evenly distributing it over the rest of the torso circles. There was now no way she could loosen the lasso around her bound wrists, since, to do so, she would have to pull them apart, which was now impossible. 

Just as suggested, Joan's hypnotized damsel had successfully and inescapably bound herself into her favorite configuration. However, there was still one detail left to manage, one that would make the bind nearly impossible to escape. After a strenuous minute of precarious struggling, Susan sat atop her bound ankles, slipping her secured wrists into the smaller lasso connected to the short line she'd previously threaded under the crotch rope between the crack in her butt. She then ran the other loop over the heels and around her bound ankles. A glance to the right revealed a mirrored image of Susan's fantasy fix. All she had to do now was fall over and struggle until the two lock lassos securely hog-tied her wrists and ankles together, while the tension on the crotch rope took care of its end of things.

The way she was sitting made the tightness of the lower thigh circles smart a bit. A deep breath made the torso lines hug and dig even deeper into her now very sensually sensitive skin. She hung onto the inhalation for a good twenty seconds before falling over and into her first inescapable experience with solo bondage. It didn't take long for the lock lassos on her ankles and wrists to securely maintain the hog-tie.
The completion of the bind was the code happening Joan had suggested while Susan was in a hypnotic state earlier. It snapped her out of the trance "Adios" had triggered over the phone. Her eyes closed for a few seconds. When they opened, she thought she'd wakened from a sound sleep, only to discover and presume that someone had bound and gagged her on the bed and left her alone to regain consciousness.

Susan was immediately overcome with sexy fear, and thrashed wildly about the mattress, moaning and testing each turn of rope. 'What the hell is going on here?' A look in the mirror inspired a countdown to a multiple orgasm, the likes of which Susan had never before enjoyed or thought possible. The minutes passed. Time disappeared, and her bondage cherry was sort-of broken unto a reality so blessed with catharsis, it took her breath away.
Susan assumed she'd been drugged or chloroformed by an unknown intruder, whom she also assumed, since she had not been sexually assaulted, was a thief. But the closer she came to closure, the more she realized it was her own kinky ingenuity that had gotten her into the fix. 'Wow.'
When her passion had been completely spent, she remembered burying a pair of scissors under the right bed pillow. It didn't take long to cut the hog-tie line. What took forever was the placing of the phone call to Joan.

"Yes?"
"Ahnn."
"Susan?"
"AHNN!"
"Having fun?"
"Ahahnn!"
"Be right over. Think you can buzz me in and unlock the front door?"
"Ahahnn," indicated and exhausted Susan before thinking, 'I HAVE to.'

The next night, over dinner at Joan's, Susan pondered a sobering truth. "You mean I tied myself up on a posthypnotic suggestion you planted before leaving last night?"
"Did I put you too far out on your limb?"
Susan smiled, "No, just far enough. But if we hadn't put the scissors under the pillow..."
"That's the next level," interrupted Joan dryly. "Let me know when you're ready for that."
"But what if I did myself in a way that would not allow me to get to a phone?"
A mischievous grin accompanied Joan's warning. "That'll be your call, not mine. Know what I mean?"
A jolt of sexy fear ran up and down Susan's spine. "Perfectly."
"Incidentally, a guy I know wants to meet you," revealed her exciting new friend as she stood up and started clearing the table. "Are you into shooting pool?"
"Don't tell me," checked Susan, "he's kinky."
"He's also my boyfriend's closest friend, and a major hunk."
"I suppose you told him all about me."
"Nope. Doesn't even know what you look like. But I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly."

Something told Susan to do the dishes. While she did, Joan enlightened her new plaything while picking up the phone and punching in her beau's number. "By the way, the posthypnotic suggestion, trigger word I planted into your subconscious was only a one time deal. I can't use it without putting you under again."
Susan breathed an inner sigh of relief and squeezed some dishwashing liquid into the sink. 'Now you tell me.'

The Following Night

When the four new friends returned from their get-acquainted outing at a local pool hall, the table was set for coffee. Two hours later, Susan and John were alone and seated on her couch, exchanging personal press releases and wondering what to do next. The phone rang and was picked up in the kitchen.
Joan wasted no time with the icebreaker. "You wanna get tied up with him tonight?"
"...More than anything."
"Where are you?"
Since Joan hadn't filled John in on any of Susan's psychological particulars, he had no idea of what was about to happen. After waiting twenty minutes for her to come back from her phone call, which had since moved to the bedroom, the phone rang again, and again, and again, until John was moved to pick it up in the kitchen. "Yes?"
"John?"
"Yes?"
"Joan."
He was not surprised. "Hi. What's up?"
"Where's Susan?
"I don't know, maybe the bathroom."
"Would you go tell her I'm on the line?"
"Sure."
The john was empty, and the door to the bedroom closed. Something told Susan's blind date to open it.

"MMUHUH!!" screamed Joan's new damsel under a mouth stuffed with sponge, and tightly bandaged with several turns of Elastoplast.
John opened the door slowly. Susan was on the bed, tied up in the same fix she'd put herself into the night before. An orgasm-weary look covered her upper face. The bra and panties were black, as were the skyscraper pumps. John froze in his tracks and scanned the room for an intruder. He walked to the window. It was locked from the inside. The closet was next, revealing a most interesting situation by way of the attaché case contents on the floor. 'She tied herself up for me.'
Susan looked stunning in bondage, inspiring an erection to grow quickly as John sat next to her on the mattress. A new surge of excitement raced through her writhing shapeliness. Her new lover decided to do a fantasy, unaware of the hypnotic suggestion Joan had activated when she said 'apple pie' to her latest plaything.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, as soon as the ransom is delivered, I'll load you into the van and deliver you to the drop-off point. You'll have to stay like this for a while, until I call and tell Moon where that is, of course. Hope you don't mind. My, but you are a stunner." 
He then left the room and closed the door. Joan was no longer on the line, giving John ample reason to believe he'd been carefully set up by all three of his kinky, coffee klatch-mates.

Ten minutes later, he was naked under Susan's white, terry cloth robe, standing at the bedroom door, getting back into his fantasy character. He entered slowly. Susan was no longer on the bed, nor was she anywhere in sight. The telephone had been removed from the night table at the far side of the four-poster. John slithered onto the mattress and peered over its other end. There she was, on the floor, on her side, staring up at him wildly. The phone was a few inches from her nose. Her keeper pulled a pillow under his chin and ground his erection into the rough fabric of the robe a few times.
"Muhuh!," moaned Susan as the final stages of yet another multiple again invaded her outraged senses. 'This is too real to be true.'
"Any luck on the phone?" taunted John, knowing the unhooked receiver in the kitchen made it impossible to raise anyone on the bedroom extension. "You've been a very naughty lady."

She glared up at him and flared her sexy fingers before making two, tight fists and giving up on her latest escape attempt. The sight of Susan's limp and luscious form brought a special tingle to John's now fully extended stick. It took all of his self-control to keep from ejaculating. Not so with his orgasmic damsel, who was now subtly and rhythmically negotiating a series of hog-tie line tugs, which, of course, caused the crotch rope to gnaw and saw, insist and reiterate itself into the moment without mercy. 'Wow.'

After hanging up both phones, John investigated the contents of the attaché case on the dresser. A very sharp jack-knife caught his eye. He used it to cut the hog-tie line before undoing Susan's gorgeous legs and stepping back a few feet. "Get up." He watched her execute the move with arms folded. "Inside."
She walked ahead of him, adjusting to the change of scene in true, damsel-in-distress fashion. The sight of her bound wrists, bouncing sexily on her firm rump, kept John's erection at strict attention. Every second or two, Susan expressed her helplessness with her long, sexy fingers, flexing them prettily as they entered the living room.
"You have a choice. Either I untie you, or remove the gag. But you can't have both.
She turned to give her playmate a hungry look. "muh."

Without attempting to translate her body language, John went ahead and un-stuffed her mouth. "Don't scream, or I'll replace the sponge with something out of your hamper." Before he knew what was happening, Susan's mouth was all over his, kissing, groping, biting, and doing all sorts of oral gymnastics. 
John unhooked her strapless bra before taking his date by the shoulders and pulling her close. The front of the robe came undone, exposing its hidden hardness against his redlining damsel's flat, hard belly. She stood on her toes and did her best to jockey the swelling hump down to where it would do the most good. John quickly undid the crotch rope and roughly pulled off the bra, stepping back to get a good first look at Susan's beautiful upper body. Her nipples stood tall, her facial expression resplendent with wanton hunger...

"How would you like to be kidnapped for the rest of your life," propositioned John as he removed the robe and let it fall to the china white, shag carpeting.
She stared down brazenly at his throbbing stem, and back up at his placid eyes with a look so rich with animal lust it could only have meant one thing. "Take me," she said plainly. "...Do me."
John turned and headed back to the bedroom. Susan followed close behind, closing the door behind. Her lover lay on the bed. 
"Take off your panties, but leave the heels on."
Watching her attempt the difficult task gave John reason to believe Susan might be the one he'd waited for all his life... The phone rang.
"You'd better let me get that," warned his damsel. He held the receiver to her ear. "Yes?"
"How's it going?"
"Wonderfully. I can't thank you enough."
"Put John on..."
"...Hi."
"Hi yourself. Adios,"

Susan watched her man hang up the phone, walk to the attaché case, pluck a few skeins of rope from out of it, kneel on the mattress, and proceed to bind each ankle to its corresponding upper thigh. She stood, transfixed, watching as John carefully and inescapably bound his arms behind him, using the bedpost the same way she had earlier. He then lay down and closed his eyes. Three seconds later, he 'woke up' to the sight of Susan trying to escape her panties. The tight embrace of rope inspired a comment. 
"Huh?"
 
 

09.04.03