Phil cinched the rope tied around his knees, immobilizing them. He always loved the first rope, the beginning of the process. Next he wrapped another rope around his ankles and cinched that as well, leaving an extra 6' of rope. He could just wiggle his feet, no more. He passed the end of the 6' section of rope through a D ring on the wide leather collar he was wearing, pulling his head towards his feet. He couldn't straighten out. Phil then passed his arms through a loop of rope behind him that he had prepared beforehand. The last two things to do were the blindfold, which he slipped on. He couldn't see. Then his hands. He was wearing smooth leather cuffs on his wrists. One had a short piece of rope with a snap attached to it. The very last thing to do was to reach over with his right hand, straining against the loop of rope behind him, and fasten the snap onto the ring of his left cuff. When he did that he would be totally bound, just how he liked to be. He pulled against the rope, snapped it on and he was done. He couldn't move his hands. Phil relaxed into his bondage, luxuriating in the compression and feeling of helplessness in the darkness provided by the blindfold. He rolled a little on his bed, testing, pulling against his bonds. He loved the strength of the rope; he was strong but the ropes were stronger. His bondage was good; he was helpless. He would lie there, bound on the bed, straining against the ropes until she decided to release him. That is,
If
she decided to release him. She might not. She might leave him there, helpless.
He knew he wasn't
really
helpless. When he wanted to get out he would unsnap his wrist and reverse the process. This was as close as he could get to the real thing alone. He often fantasized about what it would be like to be tied by someone else. She would be a woman, a sexy woman, a strong, sexy commanding woman who would force him into total helplessness and then tease him sexually, hurt him and soothe him. He would be the sole focus of her attention as she played with his penis and balls, ultimately masturbating him to a powerful orgasm. She would then release him and hold him tight like a baby. Phil dreamed his dream as he lay on the carpeted floor.
He knew exactly what he wanted her to do.
He didn't have a clue what would happen next if his fantasy ever came to life. He had fantasized about "his woman" for such a long time; he no longer held out any hope that she would ever be real.
He felt terribly awkward around women. He never knew what to say to them or how to say it.
Sometimes, when he was thinking about his situation, he would describe himself as a loner. It sounded more romantic than lonely. But however he described himself he was alone.
______________________________________________________________
Mary looked at herself naked in the mirror. She posed for herself, trying to look like the seductive, sexy women in magazines. She was ready for her evening. She first put in her ball gag, tucking the strap under her pony tail as she tightened it. She had leather collars on her legs, at the very top of her thighs. Her wrists had cuffs with snaps on them. She snapped each wrist onto the leg collar closest to it. Then, with one hand, she held the end of a long rope that was tied with a thread to a door at the other end of her long room. She slowly turned, while maintaining tension on the rope. It enveloped her as she wrapped herself, turn by turn. When she got to the very end she was tightly bound, like a fly in a spider's web cocooned for a future meal. She had sewn a piece of Velcro to the end of the rope and to the mating piece of Velcro to the rope a few feet up. When she broke the thread that had held the rope it stuck to itself, held by the velcro. Her plan for her eventual escape was to catch the rope onto a metal hook she had attached to the wall. The hook was to pull the Velcro apart, releasing the rope that would then fall to her feet. But that wouldn't be for a long time.
Mary tried to move her arms. They were held firmly at her sides. She could just wiggle her fingers, nothing more. Her gag prevented her from speaking; she could only make little moaning sounds. Not that she wanted to say anything. There was no one in her apartment; she lived alone. She was delighted with her plan so far. She loved the feeling of the rope. She loved the squeeze; it felt like a hug that wouldn't stop. She walked around the room. She closed her eyes, wishing she had a blindfold on; she would do that next time. She fantasized herself as the prisoner of a handsome man in a remote mansion. He would be ruthless, a strong man who had captured her and would use her for his pleasure when he wanted. He would put her in bondage to break her will. The thoughts made her wet. Mmmm. She would struggle against him but he would force her. He would grow to love her. She would love him as he continued to dominate her. Or
because
he continued to dominate her. The thought of being helplessly bound as his strong hands fondled her was delicious.
Mary stumbled over a shoe. She fell heavily to the floor, unable to break her fall with her hands. She lay there, stunned, breathing heavily. This wasn't in the plan. She rolled over to the bed, tried to push herself up with her feet but her feet slipped on the floor. She fell to the floor again, landing hard on her hip. She needed sneakers on her feet. She rolled over to where she had left hers and managed to get her left one on, then her right. She pushed herself back to the bed and this time managed to get up onto it. She lay there, panting from the exertion and also fear. She knew she was on her own; nobody was coming who would help her. After resting a few minutes she was able to slide off the bed onto her feet and to walk over to the hook. The hook undid the Velcro as she had planned! She was able to wriggle out of the rope, unclip her hands, remove the wrist cuffs and leg collars and, finally, the gag.
Mary looked at herself in the mirror again. She wasn't the sexy thing she saw in the mirror earlier in the evening. She was disheveled; her hair was a mess, her torso bruised by her falls and marked by the rope. She needed a shower and she needed to think.
As the water cascaded down her she thought about her experience. Normally at this time she would masturbate but tonight's misadventure took her out of the mood. She loved the feeling of bondage and loved her fantasy but she had had a narrow escape. She had been lucky. Things could have gone differently. She could have died in her apartment and no one would have known.
She decided on a plan. She was a modern woman, this was 2001. She composed an ad to go into the back of the local handout paper, where the raunchy classified ads go.
It read: "Adventurous woman wants to tie one on. If you know your way around cordage be in touch"
She waited.
________________________________________________________________
Phil was at the laundromat doing his bi-weekly laundry. He picked up the local rag while his clothes were in the washing machine and looked at the back where the personal ads were. He scanned down; he always looked at the ads although he never responded to any. He read Mary's ad. He read it again. And again. She was talking to
him.
His mental fantasy machine went into high gear. She would be the one. She would be his dominant lady! When he got home he immediately composed a response.
"Adventurous man knows his knots. Are you the woman who wants to tie one on?" He included his name and phone number, put it into an envelope and sent it off to the newspaper who would forward it to the advertiser, Mary.
He waited.
May got only one response to her ad, from a man named Phil. She wasn't sure how to interpret his short message but she got her courage up and dialed his number.
He answered on the second ring.
"Hello is this Phil?" she asked.
"Yes, who is this?" he answered
She hesitated but pushed on "My name is Mary and I put an ad into the paper. Are you the one who answered my ad?"
"Yes, I am. I'm so glad you called back."
There was silence on the line; neither of them knew what to say. Phil spoke first
"This is hard for me on the phone. Do you think maybe we could meet at a café and talk about our mutual interests?"
Mary thought that was reasonable. They agreed to meet at a quiet place near where both of them worked. They described themselves so they would recognize each other.
When they met Phil spoke first, commenting on the weather. It was a beautiful day, warm for the season, maybe it would rain next week. Mary agreed that, yes, it was a beautiful day and, yes, it was warm. She delicately shifted the conversation to her ad, saying that she was hoping to find a man who shared her "restrained interests". Phil appreciated her bringing up the subject of why they were together in the café and replied that he had wanted to find a compatible woman with whom he could explore the joys of rope work. Neither of them was comfortable speaking at any length about what they wanted to do so they smiled happily at each other and didn't offer or ask for more information. They were both relieved that the awkward part of the conversation was out of the way. Each was very happy to have found someone to enjoy their passion with. Mary agreed to come to Phil's apartment the following evening. "Just to talk."
Phil was beside himself with excitement. He cleaned every inch of his apartment. He bought a bottle of good wine. Actually two bottles, one red and one white, not knowing what Mary might like to drink. He neatly arranged his extensive collection of bondage equipment in its box. He bought flowers and put them into a vase. Finally the doorbell rang. He welcomed Mary in, took her coat, offered her a seat, and asked her if she'd like a glass of wine. She accepted the seat but declined the wine.
They were both very nervous. Mary, in line with her fantasies, was expecting Phil to roughly order her to strip. In a loving way, of course. Or maybe he wouldn't speak but would hold her hands behind her with one hand and kiss her possessively while fondling her with his other hand.
She waited.
Phil expected Mary to order him, perhaps, to kneel at her feet or maybe she would slap him to establish her dominance. Or she would speak to him in a commanding voice.
He waited.
Finally Phil couldn't stand the suspense. He asked Mary if she would like to see his collection of bondage equipment.
"Absolutely" she replied. She admired the rope and the chains and the cuffs and the collars and the riding crop. Phil gently asked if she would like to try the equipment out.
"Finally," she thought. "Sure, where do you want me to be? Do you want me to stand or to lie down?"
Phil was confused. How would she tie him up if she was lying down? She certainly wasn't taking charge like he expected her to.
Phil asked, "Which rope do you want to use first on me?"
Confusion clouded Mary's face. "On you?
