© Copyright 2011 - Jo - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; silk; rope; gag; cuffs; climax; wish; majick; cons; X
In a little shop down an alley off a side street on the edge of Chinatown, Sandy fondled the red, silk dress. There was nothing special about it at first glance - your basic knee-length Chinese dress with a bit of yellow piping for trim. But the sensation of it on her skin had a magical effect. She had to fight the urge to strip and give herself to the kiss of silk on her naked body. She took the dress over to the counter, set it down. It would be the perfect thing - for later.
The store was a curiosity shop of sorts. Shelves of items seemingly selected at random and not really displayed so much as landing where they were willy nilly strewn about. A burning stick of incense on the counter vied with the musty smell of age. The streaked windows made the place dim.
Sandy wandered about feeling a bit of unease. It was as if time had stopped. As if she had stepped into another world. As if it wasn't 2011 in the U.S., but some other time, some other place either in the distant past or the far future, something beyond time.
Speaking of time, Sandy checked her watch. She had been in the shop for quite a while, alone.
She waited a minute.
Sandy poked a finger through the curtain, parting it. Someone was indeed there, an old woman lying on a couch.
"Hello? Could I get a little help here, please."
The woman's only response was to raise a becoming finger. Sandy stepped over to her. The woman was old, older than death itself.
"Are you okay?"
The woman gestured toward a cabinet on the wall.
"Do you want me to call 911?"
Again the gesture.
"You want something from the cabinet?"
A small nod.
Sandy stepped over to it, opened the door, there were several shelves, bottles and boxes of various shaped and sizes, all labeled in characters Sandy didn't recognize.
"You need something in here?"
The woman pointed slightly to the left. Sandy moved her hand. Then up. Sandy followed. A bit to the right.
Another small nod.
Sandy brought the box over to her. The old woman made a pinching motion and opened her mouth.
"You want some of this stuff?"
"Just a pinch?"
Sandy took a pinch of the grey powder and dropped it into the woman's mouth.
"Are you sure you don't want me to call 911?"
The woman closed her eyes and held up one finger.
Finally she opened her eyes, pointed at the table.
Sandy found a pitcher of water on the table next to a glass. She poured some out. The woman's hands were shaking, so Sandy held the glass to her lips. The woman nodded.
"Better. Thank you. Please, give me just another minute."
Slowly, the woman swung her legs off the couch and stood. Sandy held out a hand to steady her and when she did she found the woman's grip surprisingly strong.
"Thank you. You saved my life."
"Are you sick?"
"Not sick so much as I have a, er, condition. If I do not take my medicine I will die."
"And sometimes, at my age, death does not seem like a bad idea."
"And you were just going to lay there and die?"
The woman nodded.
"And then I changed my mind, but by then it was too late. But then you came along. Thank you."
"You're welcome. You're okay now. You look much better."
And the woman had changed. She was still old beyond time, but perhaps a bit less so. Or maybe it was the light playing tricks on Sandy's eyes.
"Yes. I am fine now. Did you want to make a purchase?"
"Uh, yes. A dress."
At the counter the woman held up the dress.
"Very good dress. Very special dress. Yes, you may have it."
"You may have it. A gift."
The woman waved her off. Then she bent and produced a cardboard box, opened it, pulled out a fortune cookie, and handed it to Sandy.
"Uh, hey, thanks."
Sandy cracked the cookie open, broke off a chunk, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like every fortune cookie everywhere tastes. She pulled out the fortune.
Your wish will come true.
Sandy finished the cookie. A sense of peace enveloped her. She smiled. She had the dress and a good fortune and all felt right with the world.
Sandy bathed, not just a shower, but a leisurely bath. Although she felt anything but leisurely. She was killing time, stalling, and it made her anxious. When she could stand it no longer, she climbed out of the tub, pulled the plug, and dried herself off. She stepped into the bedroom.
There on the bed was the red dress - and the rope, handcuffs, scarf, and panties. The key to the cuffs was on a hook she'd screwed into the headboard. She had experimented and found with her wrists cuffed she could reach the key if she rolled onto her back and raised her legs. It was a stretch and took a bit of fumbling, but she'd managed to retrieve the key and free herself.
She booted the computer, moused over the tube icon, clicked. Kristine Imboch, aka Lorelei, stepped into the room and promptly began tying herself. Sandy had watched the vid several times, even practiced a couple of the moves, but now she was ready to do it all. Just one more look to triple check she had it right. Although, truth be told, she had her own variation in mind.
Sandy pulled on the red dress. The effect was immediate and electric. Soft warmth caressed her neck to knees. Her nipples hardened. Her skin flushed. The itch, her old friend the itch, made her pussy throb. She pressed the cloth against her slick, bald mound and shivered.
With shaking hands, Sandy wadded up the panties and stuffed them into her mouth. She wedged the scarf between her teeth and tied the ends behind her head. She doubled a length of rope, raised the hem of the dress, and wrapped it around her waist, drew the ends down between her ass cheeks, parted her pussy lips, buried the rope between them - tugged. Sandy gasped. Even this early she was already on the edge of an orgasm. She slipped the end under the waist rope, tugged again, let it dangle.
Sandy sat on the bed. She tied her ankles, then her knees. She knelt and fed the end of the crotch rope through a link in the handcuffs, knotted it. With a bit of contorting, she was able to wrap rope above and below her tits as she'd seen Lorelei do. And with a bit of a flip she got a loop of rope behind her neck. She bent further and tied it to her knees, pressing them against her tits. She managed to wedge the ends through the rope on her ankles, drawing her calves to her thighs. She knotted the rope.
She had never done anything this complicated. Usually it was just handcuffs and gag. This? This was beyond comprehension. Sandy panted, not only from the exertion, but the glowing fire in her loins.
She took a look around. The room was dark except for three candles on the bureau. She tried to remember if she'd locked the door, figured she had. It was time to finish it, the proverbial point of no return.
She snicked one of the cuffs on her wrist. It was a struggle with the second. The crotch rope wasn't quite long enough, but after a half dozen tries Sandy was rewarded with the soft 'click click click' as the ratchet engaged.
Sandy's world exploded. The orgasm knocked her over. She lay on her side, chest heaving. She tried to lay still, but even the slight post-orgasm tremors set her off again. She had a third orgasm, and a fourth.
Finally she was able to regain a modicum of composure. She found that if she squirmed in just the right way she had have some control of the rope between her legs. Sandy squirmed and came. Squirmed some more, came again. Sandy lay panting, euphoric.
Oh God! I wish this would go on forever!
In a little shop down an alley off a side street on the edge of Chinatown an old woman nodded and said, "Granted."