|by Steve Spandex|
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|© Copyright 2015 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: M/f; captive; bond; rope; gag; imprisoned; stuck; escape; punish; bfold; cons/nc; X||
|Embedded 2 Steve Spandex M/f; captive; bond; rope; gag; imprisoned; stuck; escape; punish; bfold; cons/nc; X|
story continued from part one
Under the circumstances, Lisa thought that her cries for assistance came out quite well; louder, in fact, than she’d previously thought possible. Unfortunately, the only person within earshot was Tom and within thirty seconds of her attempts to attract attention commencing, the bedroom light was on and he was there at the side of the bed, glaring in at her.
“Stop that bloody noise, will you? Or would you rather have me make you shut up?”
Intimidated by his menacing tone, Lisa discontinued her outburst. She was, after all, totally at his mercy.
“Now you listen to me,” he continued in slightly calmer manner “I’ve got some friends coming around this evening for a party, and the music will be too loud for anyone to hear you trying to draw attention to yourself. But if anyone does happen to hear you, which is unlikely, then you’re going to be in even bigger trouble than you are already. Got that?”
Before Lisa could even begin to consider remonstrating with him, the light had been extinguished and she was plunged back into the twilight world of evening that would soon give way to complete blackness. For the first time, she heard a key turning in the bedroom door lock immediately following his departure; a measure presumably designed primarily with the intention of stopping his guests coming in and discovering her, as opposed to an extra safeguard against her escaping.
Lisa was in two minds as to what course of action to follow. Part of her feared the repercussions if she did anything that in any way displeased Tom. But then again, the fact that other people would be present in the house – people who had no notion that there was a prisoner bound, gagged and incarcerated in the guest bedroom – would be too good an opportunity to squander. His friends couldn’t all be as heartless and devoid of compassion as him, could they? The latter point was soon to gain extra support when, as Tom’s friends began to arrive, it became clear from the voices below that some of them were female. Surely if she could bring her plight to the attention of one of these girls, they’d take pity on her. The problem was that, as Tom had informed her, the stereo was soon on full blast, drowning out any potential sound from upstairs. So loud was the noise, in fact, that the floor boards on which she lay could be felt to vibrate through the carpet to the rhythmic thud of every beat.
This, of course, well and truly put paid to her intended bout of screaming, which would now obviously be doomed to failure. Hour after hour, the incessant thump of drums and throb of the bass seemed to surround and engulf Lisa. It felt, to all intents and purposes, as if the sound had grabbed her and refused to relinquish its grip. And there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it; no place to hide from the monotonous music.
Finally, the music ceased and the sound of drunken voices could be heard laughing and shouting. Not only that, but some of these voices seemed to emanate from upstairs. In the babble of voices – both male and female – Tom’s could occasionally be made out, and it seemed clear that he was close at hand; probably just outside the room. For this reason Lisa reluctantly refrained from kicking off with a bout of screaming; fearing retribution if Tom got to her first. Caution, however, soon proved to be unnecessary.
Although unable to block out the idle chat and revelry that was taking place so close at hand, Lisa was not really attempting to take in exactly what was being said; being more interested in waiting for the right moment to make her presence known to the assembled crowd and subsequently regain her freedom, than she was to the nature of their inane conversations. Suddenly, though, a phrase uttered by Tom reached her that caused her ears to prick up.
“…I’ll show you what I’ve got hidden under the bed.”
She’d missed the first part of the sentence, so wasn’t exactly sure of the precise context, but it was obvious from the reply that this tantalizing offer was made to a female companion. And her comments, only partly comprehensible, seemed to suggest a willingness to be shown this secret of his.
Lisa felt heartened, frightened and extremely bewildered all at the same time by this latest turn of events. Heartened because she figured that there was every likelihood that this girl could persuade Tom to release her when she saw the miserable way that he was treating her. Frightened by whatever devious scheme Tom had in mind by allowing this girl in to see her. And bewildered that he should want anyone else in on something that, she assumed, only Tom and Andy knew about and would want to keep hidden from others, especially taking into account his earlier remarks – or rather threats - about her keeping silent. Had she misheard, or grasped the wrong end of the stick? Was Tom talking about some other bed perhaps, such as his own? She was given only a few seconds to ponder these questions before the key could be heard turning in the lock, answering both questions in the negative. As an ever widening shaft of light split the darkness, Lisa stared out as no less than eight legs filled her range of vision; four male, the other four obviously female.
“Go on, take a look. Nothing’s going to jump out and bite you.”
She recognized the speaker as Andy, now challenging the two unsuspecting guests to get down on their knees to peer in at her; a bit like in a zoo, or maybe a freak show. She half expected either Andy or Tom to suddenly announce “And now ladies, for your amusement and entertainment, we give you the one and only Incredible Bound Up Woman!” Instead, however, the light in the room was switched on and the door shut, the latter action indicating that this show was exclusively for the four of them and not the assembled multitude that could still be heard elsewhere in the house.
“What’s all this about? This was just a trick to get us up here alone with you two, wasn’t it? There’s nothing under there at all.”
“Oh no? Then watch this.”
Within a second, Tom’s face appeared at Lisa’s eye level and he began pulling hard on the chain. Even if she’d wanted to remain silent, the sharp pain that this sudden jerk on her collar inflicted, made her shriek into her gag.
“What have you got under there?”
The girls’ curiosity had obviously now been aroused and, within a second or two, all five occupants of the room had their faces on the floor; two with smirks on their faces, two with open-mouthed amazement and one whose pleading eyes were directed at the fellow members of her sex. The two girls - one blonde, the other a redhead – looked to be around the same age as Tom and Andy. Both had clearly had too much to drink.
For fully thirty seconds not a word was uttered, until one of the girls collected her thoughts sufficiently to speak.
“Who is she? What’s she doing here? Why have you done this to her?”
The questions came out thick and fast, but Andy already seemed to have his answers prepared.
“She’s supposed to be Tom’s ‘babysitter’. With her around he’d have had to stay in all weekend like a good little boy and there’d have been no party.”
The girl who had fired off the rapid string of questions – the blonde – continued to look awestruck at the sight of this woman before her. The other one began to giggle, then burst into uncontrollable fits of drunken laughter, and it was obvious that she would be of no help. Lisa therefore decided to work on the blonde girl, whose face seemed to be conveying a degree of concern.
“Help me! Get them to let me out of here!”
Her muffled plea seemed to be having the desired effect.
“You can’t just keep her here like that. When did you tie her up?”
“YESTERDAY?” the girl shrieked in amazement “You mean that you’ve kept her here for over twenty four hours? You can’t do that, it’s kidnapping. Let the poor girl go.”
“Look Julie, if we hadn’t kept her out of the way, this party would never have taken place and the rest of the weekend would have had to be cancelled too. The minute we set her free, she’ll be on the phone to my parents to tell them what’s going on here.”
“But she’s terrified, can’t you see that? And anyway, your parents are going to have to find out sometime, and the longer you keep her tied up, the more trouble you’ll be in when they get home.”
Tom sighed heavily. “I know that, but while we’ve got the chance to have some fun, I’m going to make the most of it. I’ll worry about Monday when it comes.”
“Monday? You mean you intend to keep her here until Monday?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“You can’t, I won’t let you. Come on Dawn, help me move this bed.”
Dawn’s only reaction was to giggle some more. All four onlookers had now risen, enabling Lisa to view only their feet and ankles. Until, that is, Julie crouched down and her fingers appeared to grasp the edge of the bed. There followed a slight upwards movement of the ceiling above Lisa’s back, which coincided with the sound of her would-be liberator gritting her teeth and straining. These actions, however, lasted no more than a few seconds, before the bed collapsed down into its former position again.
Andy laughed harshly. “There’s no way you can lift that bed up on your own.”
“Look, I’m not joking. If you don’t…”
“”You’ll do what? Tell the police? Phone Tom’s parents? I don’t think so Julie, because if you do we’ll tell them that you were involved in kidnapping her too.”
Julie, to Lisa’s delight, wasn’t going to give up that easily.
“Please guys, let her go. What harm has she done you?”
“None, because we made sure she couldn’t.”
Both Andy and Tom laughed long and loud at their warped logic. Julie, on the other hand, had by now realised that diplomacy and reason were unlikely to bear fruit. So she again briefly attempted lifting the bed to release the trapped woman beneath. This time, however, her efforts were brought to a premature conclusion by Andy.
“Look, if you don’t leave her alone, you’ll end up under there with her.”
The words were uttered quietly, but there was a menace in his tone which suggested that Julie was beginning to try his patience. And unlikely support for his point of view came from Dawn, who seemed to agree that they should leave well alone.
“Come on Jules, it’s not our problem. She would have spoilt the party for us all. Leave the bitch where she is. She deserves it.”
Tom’s feet came back towards where Julie was still crouched beside the bed.
“Yeah, come on Julie, let’s go downstairs and have another drink.”
He helped Julie to her feet then gently shepherded her towards the door.
Lisa’s pleas went unanswered as Julie was somewhat reluctantly ushered away; the light being extinguished and the door being closed and locked informing the stricken woman that her salvation, which had seemed so close at one stage, had now receded back into the distance.
Lisa’s frustration and despair at this latest setback brought forth a renewed spate of struggling which, from the start, was as doomed to fail as all the other attempts of the previous twenty four hours or more. The rope around her wrists remained as tight as ever, and the whereabouts of the knot that held the bond secure was an ongoing mystery, although the one thing she did know was that it wasn’t within reach of her straining, outstretched fingers. It must, she figured, be situated somewhere at the back of her wrists.
For a while after the foursome had departed, the voices continued from the floor below. But gradually, one by one, Tom’s guests could be heard saying their goodbyes, until finally the front door slammed shut one last time and all talk ceased. Lisa assumed that the same routine that had taken place the previous night would now follow, and that Tom would go straight to bed without thought of visiting his captive. Almost immediately, however, she was proven wrong on this score, as within seconds of his footsteps clambering up the stairs, the key turning in the lock signalled his imminent arrival. With the light switched on, Tom’s now quite drunken face appeared before her; that now familiar gloating grin etched on his face.
“Just so you don’t get your hopes up too high, I thought I’d better tell you that if you’re thinking Julie will raise the alarm and help get you out of here, then you’re going to be bitterly disappointed. Both Dawn and Julie were so drunk by the time they left here that the chances of either of them having any memory of your existence in the morning are virtually nil. And anyway,” He began rising unsteadily to his feet “Julie wouldn’t do anything to upset me.”
Lisa watched as his feet half-staggered towards the door.
“Sorry to shatter your illusions. Sweet dreams Lisa.”
Within seconds she was once again plunged into darkness.
Lisa slept fitfully that night; waking instantly at every sound, hoping and praying that Tom had been wrong about both Julie’s memory and her loyalty. Even the slightest creak of a floorboard or other nocturnal noise of unknown origin, however distant or indistinct, raised her hopes momentarily, only to leave her feeling ever more despondent when her imagined rescue failed to materialise. It was ironic, therefore, that when Tom eventually returned the next morning, she failed to register his approach. Maybe at last she’d fallen into a deeper sleep, but whatever the reason for her brain failing to detect his entrance into the room, the first inkling that he was in the vicinity was when she was rudely awakened by a sharp tug on her neck chain. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew the exact expression waiting to greet her; the ‘I’ve got you trapped here and there’s nothing you can do about it’ smirk that seemed an almost permanent fixture whenever he knelt down beside the bed.
“Good morning. I trust you slept well?”
Lisa refused to rise to the bait, instead deciding to ignore any attempt to tease her or incite an outburst.
“Are you ready for some breakfast?”
This question was asked in more serious manner, and Lisa had to admit that she was indeed rather hungry and extremely thirsty; yesterday’s breakfast being her last ‘meal’. She was expecting to be offered her refreshment in similar fashion to that thrust upon her the day before, and thus braced herself for the agonizing removal of tape from flesh. However, Tom had other ideas which, momentarily at least, left Lisa wondering if her ordeal was about to come to an end.
Instead of peeling away her gag, Lisa watched in bewilderment as Tom released the chain from the bedpost, rose to his feet, and began to lift the bed from her back. As the gap increased, Lisa experienced full daylight for the first time in a day and a half. But this relief from the claustrophobic tomb and the hindering chain brought new dilemmas flooding through her brain. Should she remain passive and await the reason for this unexpected, yet greatly appreciated, step on the path to freedom to become clear? Or should she attempt to slither towards the door as soon as the gap became wide enough and risk being punished should her escape attempt fail? It didn’t take long to fathom out that the latter was not a sensible option, as any thoughts she entertained of moving swiftly were shown to be unviable; she was still securely bound hand and foot, which meant her recapture was inevitable before she’d made more than a yard or two’s progress. It made sense, therefore, to bide her time and cooperate.
Once Tom had raised the bed to its full height – a monumental feat considering the weight involved - and ensured that it would remain standing vertically of its own accord, his attentions returned to his prisoner. Lifting her up by the waist and clumsily hoisting her onto his shoulder, he set off towards the door. Lisa, her head and torso now draped over Tom’s back, with her thighs held firmly to his chest, reluctantly came to the conclusion that he wasn’t releasing, but merely relocating her. She also noticed, as she gazed back at the space she’d recently vacated, that her skirt was lying in a crumpled heap on the carpet next to the pillow. In all that twisting and turning during her period of captivity it must have slid down her legs and, although she’d failed to notice at the time, had fallen away as he’d picked her up. The fact that the lower half of her body from the waist down was now covered only by her tights and skimpy panties made her feel extremely self-conscious, not to mention a little vulnerable.
Slowly, taking each step very gingerly, he carried her down the stairs to the hallway below, before proceeding into a room that Lisa had not entered before. Easing her down, he sat her on an upright wooden chair and turned towards a serving hatch in the wall directly in front of her. Swiftly, while his back was momentarily turned, Lisa scoured the room, searching for the most obvious escape route should the opportunity arise. She quickly deduced that this room was the family dining room, and that it was situated on the back of the house. To her right, a set of French doors looked out onto a conservatory, beyond which an average sized garden could be viewed. Still further afield, a hedge, around four feet in height, marked the boundary of the property. From the angle of the sun, she guessed that it must by now be mid morning. But what attracted Lisa’s attention as she surveyed this Sunday morning suburban scene, was the sight on the far side of the boundary hedge. For there stood a middle-aged man; his head and shoulders clearly visible as he pottered away in the next garden, entirely oblivious to the goings on in his neighbours’ house.
Lisa’s hopes soared. If she could somehow make her presence known to this as yet unsuspecting man, then she was sure that an end could rapidly be brought to this whole terrible saga. But how was she to attract his attention? Tom was merely a couple of yards away from her and would be alerted to any attempts she might make to slide off the chair and drag herself towards the windows. Screaming was unlikely to prove effective, as the gag still sealed her mouth shut. Besides which, there was both the walls of this room plus the conservatory, not to mention the length of the garden, for any sound to negotiate if her plea were to be heard by this potential saviour.
Being winter, no windows appeared to be open, and all would naturally be double glazed. Visually too, she doubted whether from this distance that the man would notice her bonds or gag, should he simply casually glance in her direction. There seemed to be only one way that she felt would have any chance of successfully enlisting this man’s help, therefore, and that was if Tom were to be distracted somehow for a few minutes so that she was left to her own devices. Looking more closely at the French windows, she noticed that a key protruded from the lock. If only his attention were to be focused elsewhere for a short while, she was certain that she could negotiate the floor, reach the door and unlock it.
Tom finished preparing her breakfast and turned back towards her. Stripping the tape from her face, he pulled the cloth from her mouth and immediately held up a glass of water to her lips. Having taken in several gulps of fresh air, Lisa let the cool liquid slide over her burning throat.
And then a brainwave hit her. Looking beyond Tom, she noticed that there was a piece of buttered bread on the tray which he’d placed on the table by the serving hatch; the same fare that she’d had the pleasure of being force fed yesterday. As far as she could see there was no other food in the room and none visible through the serving hatch. If she could convince him that she needed more than just bread and water to sustain her, then he’d have to leave the room for a minute or two. Or so she hoped.
“Look Tom. I can’t survive on just bread and water. Haven’t you got anything else you could give me to eat? Something a bit more nutritious, perhaps?”
He looked at her quizzically, and Lisa wondered whether she’d maybe been too friendly with her request. Perhaps he’d have been more likely to believe that her wish for a more balanced diet was genuine and not a tactic aimed at distracting him, if she’d been more forceful and demanding in her approach. However, after about ten seconds of deliberation - a time-span that seemed far longer to the waiting captive - he appeared to decide in her favour.
“Sure, why not?”
Lisa’s hopes rose briefly, only to come crashing down with a vengeance only seconds later. Walking over to the hatch, Tom reached his long arm through and grabbed an apple from some unseen fruit bowl or other source unknown. He held it to her lips, waiting for her to bite into it. Lisa tried to look pleased, but could feel the tears welling up in her eyes; “please, just once, let something go right for me” being her silent, anguished plea.
As if in answer to her prayer, at that precise moment the phone in the hallway rang. From expectation to dismay to utter delight in the space of about twenty seconds, Lisa at first couldn’t believe that her luck had finally changed for the better. “Please don’t let it be a wrong number. Please let it be a long, drawn out call.” Her pleas to whichever deity had answered her original request came thick and fast now; a deity in whom she’d never previously had any faith. Tom stared hard at the door from behind which the ringing sound emanated, as if it would in some way enlighten him as to whom this could be disturbing his weekend. Then he glanced back at Lisa, swiftly grabbed the ball of material and stuffed it back into her mouth. Ten seconds was all it took to quickly and roughly wrap fresh tape around her face, before he made for the door and the still ringing phone; seemingly satisfied that she couldn’t get up to any mischief in his absence. Although he didn’t close the door behind him, Lisa remembered noticing on Friday evening that the phone in the hall was an old fashioned model, and not of the cordless variety. She had also fathomed out the layout of the house sufficiently well to realise that the phone was positioned where he would be unable to both observe her and speak into the receiver simultaneously.
There was no time to lose now. Quickly glancing out through the window, she noticed that the man was still in view. Tom’s voice could be heard from the opposite direction, and it was apparent that a friend of his was on the line. This was a good sign; with any luck they’d talk for long enough to allow her to make her way across the room, turn the key and unlock the door. Then, even if she couldn’t get out of the conservatory and into the garden, at least the predominantly glass outer structure should allow her to make herself visible, and if this failed to attract the attention of the as yet unsuspecting gardener, she could always bang her feet against the panes.
Dropping awkwardly to the floor as silently as she possibly could, Lisa began dragging her body, despite the near uselessness of her limbs, towards the French doors. It took maybe thirty seconds to negotiate her way around the furniture and cover the distance, but she made it. The next trial involved reaching the key with her bound hands. This task proved much easier than she’d imagined, as, by sitting with her back against the door and using her legs to slowly lever herself upwards, with an inward gasp of triumph, she managed to grasp the key in her fingers. Turning the key was easy enough, but now she had to somehow turn the handle and pull the door against which she was leaning, towards her. This obstacle was soon overcome by shuffling sideways until she was leaning against the other half of the double doors; the half which it would be unnecessary to open in order to make her escape. Now stretching as far to the left as she could with her awkwardly restricted arms, she pushed down on the handle and simultaneously pulled. The door opened a fraction of an inch, creaking slightly in the process. Lisa froze, dreading that at any second Tom would fall silent and his frame reappear in the doorway. Luckily, his conversation continued unabated and Lisa’s sigh of relief was almost audible.
Falling clumsily back onto the floor, Lisa inserted the toes of her left foot into the opening, and with the utmost caution, attempted to widen the gap enough to be able to wriggle through without causing further commotion. Fortunately, the initial creaking appeared to have been a one off, and the door slid silently open with ease. There now lay before her around ten feet of floor to be traversed before she reached the point nearest to where the gardener had been working. Without hesitation she made a beeline for that spot. Now that she was in the conservatory, Lisa found that the lower section of wall, up to a height of around three feet or so, was built of brick. From there on upwards, the remainder of the wall, plus the ceiling, were constructed of glass panels. The only other door, which led out into the back garden, was situated away to her right; completely the opposite direction from that in which she was heading.
From her position on the floor, as she slid and bumped her way towards the window, the wall cut off her view of the hedge beyond, over which the man she’d seen had been standing. Besides that, the task in hand consumed all her concentration, allowing her no time to be continually checking that her potential rescuer was still in position. Time was her main enemy now, as she knew that Tom’s phone call wouldn’t last indefinitely, and that he’d almost certainly head straight back to where he’d left her after hanging up.
Finally, after much wriggling and writhing, she arrived at the low parapet. Raising herself awkwardly onto her knees, she peered out into the bare winter garden. To her complete and utter despair she saw no one; no startled gardener ready to rush to her aid the second he became aware of her plight. She scanned the length of the hedge, now merely twenty yards or so away, in case he’d moved to a different location, but there was nobody in sight. Although momentarily disheartened by this turn of events, Lisa realised that she was so close to the outside world now, that to give up on her quest would be unthinkable. She’d come this far, and no minor setback like this was going to break her resolve to win back her freedom.
The door out to the garden, now almost diagonally opposite from her on the other side of the conservatory, appeared, like the previous door she’d negotiated, to have its key sticking out of the lock. If she could just get over there and perform an identical manoeuvre to the one she’d accomplished with the French door, then she was out of the house. With increased urgency, she wriggled and squirmed her bound body towards the exit, fearful that at any moment Tom would appear and whisk her back inside. Luckily she’d now learnt how to attain maximum forward momentum by thrusting forwards almost rhythmically whilst taking long deep breaths through her nose. Within thirty seconds her journey was complete and she awkwardly got herself into position to grasp the key and turn it.
Up to now the method and technique that had served her so well on the first door had once again been successful. Now, however, although she pulled as hard as she was able on the handle, the door refused to open. Lisa’s first thought was that the door had already been unlocked, and that she had inadvertently locked herself in. On close inspection, however, this proved not to be the case; the door was definitely unlocked, yet something was obstructing the opening process. Scanning the door from the bottom upwards, Lisa’s eyes finally fixed on the cause of her inability to overcome this obstacle, and this revelation left her in total despair. For there, high above her, at the very top of the door, was a bolt that held it firmly shut. If she’d had the use of her hands, then she could simply have reached up and slid this final hindrance back with ease. But with her hands so tightly bound behind her back there was no way in the world that she could negotiate this final hurdle. Lisa gazed out with tears beginning to blur her vision, hoping against hope that the man from the next garden had reappeared.
He hadn’t, but someone else was now aware of her recent activities, and he wasn’t at all pleased with what he’d discovered once his phone call had ended.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Did you really think that you could escape?”
Grabbing the chain that still hung from the collar around her neck, he began dragging his captive back into the dining room. The pain that this caused left Lisa with no option but to cooperate in moving in the direction that she was being urged. Tom soon realised, however, that this method of transporting his prisoner from A to B was far too time consuming, so he unceremoniously picked her up and threw her over his shoulder once again.
Thus began the reverse journey back up to the bedroom.
Unlike on the downward trip, Lisa wasn’t about to passively allow him to progress unhindered. Kicking out as best she could, even though her legs were being held close to Tom’s body, her screams also grew in intensity, encouraged by the discovery that the tape over her mouth, which had been stuck back in haste when the phone had rung, had not been as expertly applied as before, and that it was beginning to show signs of coming away from her bottom lip. But alas, there was no one within earshot to hear her mournful cries for help, and within less than a minute Tom had thrown her back onto the same patch of floor that she’d been forced to inhabit for the past couple of days. Immediately after he’d relieved himself of his squirming burden, he began remedying the ever loosening tape situation; firstly removing the old, then applying a fresh replacement length to ensure that his captive would remain silent. This time, instead of wrapping it around her head three or four times however, he continued winding until Lisa lost count of how many circumnavigations the tape had made.
But if Lisa had imagined that this extra tape was to be the only penalty she would have to pay for having the audacity to attempt an escape, she was to be gravely disappointed. Producing a further piece of rope from the same drawer that had held her original bonds, Tom pulled her up into a sitting position and began constructing a rope harness around her upper body, encompassing her arms and therefore lashing them securely to her back. Winding this new bond several times around her chest, both above and below her breasts, he ensured that the bond was stringently tight before cinching it between her arms and body, then securing it.
Even now he still had other tortures to inflict on his victim, as Lisa found her woes multiplying almost by the second. From the reel of tape that still lay beside her on the carpet, he tore off a length of approximately eight inches. For a second or two, Lisa couldn’t understand his motives for doing this, as she was already well and truly gagged. But it quickly became apparent exactly what Tom had in mind, as this newly cut strip came towards her face and everything went suddenly very dark. No longer able to see, the trembling young woman felt Tom’s fingers smoothing the makeshift blindfold down around her eyes. It wasn’t until after he had satisfied himself that the tape was stuck fast to her face, that Lisa discovered she’d instinctively closed her eyes as the tape had first come into contact with her skin. It was only now, as she tried to open them again, that she realised that this was impossible; the pressure that he’d exerted whilst ensuring the adhesive bonded to her flesh having stuck the tape securely to her eyelids.
Now unable to anticipate Tom’s next move, or even tell where he was exactly, Lisa felt something tighten around her ankles, although the precise nature and purpose of what she guessed must be another piece of rope was to remain a mystery for the time being. It certainly didn’t seem to in any way further hamper her leg movements. But contemplation regarding the reason for this seemingly irrelevant addition to her bonds was momentarily swept to the back of her mind.
“Keep your head down on the floor”
This barked order was the only warning Lisa received, although she guessed straightaway what was coming next. And her assumption proved to be correct a split second later, as the bed came crashing down around her. Before her ears had even had a chance to recover from the reverberations that signalled her re-incarceration, Lisa felt a sharp tug at her neck and realised instantly that once more she was being tethered to the bed post. Tom’s next action, however, was quite unexpected, but brought the conundrum concerning the newly acquired bond around her legs back into the forefront of her thoughts. Seconds after the chain was secured, she heard his footsteps crossing the room and assumed that he had now finished with her, and that she was once again to be left in solitude.
So it was a shock when suddenly she felt something tugging at her ankles, pulling her legs towards the other end of the bed. This process continued until her legs and body were stretched to the ultimate limits of their endurance, and the chain had become taut and strained at the leather of her collar. For a few seconds she froze, as the strain on her legs and body increased until she felt that she was about to be ripped apart. But when she plucked up the courage to try to resist, and attempted to bend her knees and pull her legs back to relieve the tension in her calf and thigh muscles, she found that something was thwarting her; anchoring her feet to the bed post diagonally opposite the one to which her neck was tethered. She tried to let out a scream, as the realisation hit her that she was now anchored at both extremities and unable to move an inch. But all that escaped from behind the mass of tape was a pathetic whine.
“Now Lisa, you see what happens when you try foolish stunts like that? You end up in even bigger trouble than you were before. Let that be a lesson to you. Perhaps you’ll get the message now that making me angry is not in your best interests. No more food or drink for you until tomorrow.”
Lisa’s attempted protests were all to no avail. Before the first muffled pleas for leniency had been given a chance to seep through her gag, the bedroom door slamming shut informed her that she was once more alone.
She lay there in silence now, her body and legs stretched and immobilized. No amount of struggling would ever get her out of this mess, she knew that for certain; her recently acquired bonds complementing the original ones with their tightness and inescapability. If only she hadn’t attempted that stupid bid to escape. It was now Sunday and less than twenty four hours until Tom’s parents were due to return. She’d already spent more than thirty six hours in bondage, so another day wouldn’t have been too hard to endure, would it? Okay, so she would have been bound and gagged at all times, but at least she would have been able to see. And she would have been able to move her legs at will and curl up into a ball if she so wished. Now all she had to look forward to were hours and hours of anguish in the same position. She couldn’t even use the pillow any longer, as this was off to one side and out of reach. If only her attempt to escape had been successful. If only the man in the garden had seen her. If only she could have opened that door. If only…
The front door slamming shut, maybe half an hour after he’d trussed her up in such barbaric fashion, informed Lisa that she was now alone in the house. Hour after hour she lay in as relaxed a position as she was able, knowing that there was nothing to be done but wait for Monday to arrive. What would happen then? Would Tom let her go before his parents arrived home, in the hope that she’d flee the house the moment she was set free and keep quiet about the whole sorry episode, simply grateful to have regained her liberty? Or would he leave her there to be discovered when they became curious about the strange moaning sounds that emanated from the guest bedroom? And what about Tom? What sort of trouble would he be in? Quite frankly she didn’t care. She had enough problems of her own to occupy her thoughts, without speculating what sort of punishment he’d receive for kidnapping his babysitter; the harsher the better as far as she was concerned.
The front door opening and the voices that followed indicated that Tom had a female guest in tow when he returned. Whether this was one of the same girls she’d been introduced to at the party last night, or someone else, Lisa couldn’t be sure. But she decided that to risk drawing attention to herself could, if things went badly, result in further grief and suffering being brought to bear on her. She therefore stayed silent - for the time being at any rate. Not that she was capable of making much commotion anyway; her stringent bonds and strict gag rendering her incapable of anything other than a weak kick at the bed or floor, and a barely audible murmur.
Tom and his visitor stayed for a little over two hours, before their voices trailed away with the closing of the front door. It was now seven o’clock, assuming that the clock that had been Lisa’s only real gauge of the passing of time was correct, and Lisa knew that, if Friday evening was anything to go by, she was in for a long wait before he returned; and even then, the chances of him taking the time to look in on her before he went to bed seemed remote.
This prognosis proved correct, as sometime after eleven Tom returned but failed to enter the room in which she languished. He did, however, shout something through the closed door about how he hoped she was comfortable and that she slept well.
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story continued in Part 3
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