Part Three
“What’s so funny?”
Mary Jenkins had just finished relating the story of her humiliation in college, and now the sight of a slight smile on Brian Parks’ face brought the beginnings of an angry flush to her face. If he thought her story was in some way funny…….
“What? Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise.”
“Then why were you smiling?”
“Actually, I was enjoying a mental image of you in just your garter belt and stockings. A very nice image, I might add.”
Mary’s flush deepened, but now it wasn’t anger fueling it. For a moment, she wondered if she might need to step outside to cool her face. Surely, not even this level of embarrassment could stand for long against the sub-zero temperatures outside this little Alaskan research base. Mercifully, Brian didn’t give her time to linger.
“What about James and his friends?” he asked. “Did you manage to get even?”
“I did,” she replied, glad of the distraction from her thoughts. “Three of the five friends were just followers. All three wound up getting expelled for stunts James talked them into, and that was fine with me. With the other two, well, you could say my experience at their hands gave me added inspiration to be the best. I was quite happy to finish well ahead of either of them academically.”
“And James?”
Mary’s smile was cold. “After I got my degree, I filed a couple of patents that made me quite a bit of money, some of which I invested. Within three years, I was majority stockholder in the company his family had run for generations. I became James’ boss. Now he has to kiss my ass, figuratively, if he wants to keep his large salary and the lifestyle it supports. And he knows that, with one flick of a pen, I could ruin him.” Her smile deepened. “Poor James works quite hard to keep me happy.”
Brian laughed softly. “A fitting revenge indeed.” Then he sobered. “I can understand why you feel the way you do about bondage and the people who practice it.”
“Did feel,” Mary said softly. “After the other day, I’m not so sure. Why didn’t it bother me as much as the first time?”
“Maybe because you were a willing participant instead of an unwilling victim,” Brian replied.
“Can it make that much of a difference?”
“Absolutely. They say there’s a fine line between kink and rape. And that fine line can cause a huge difference in response, depending on which side you land on.”
“Really?” Mary’s voice was a bit dry.
“Really. If I were to tie you the exact same way, but with your permission, I know your feelings would be a lot different.”
Mary looked uncertain. “I doubt that.”
“Let’s find out.” Brian smiled. “Think you could trust me enough to do a little experiment? I can get a chair from the mess hall.”
For a long moment, Mary was silent. Then, glancing up, she said, “Ok, go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
When Brian entered his room, he nearly dropped the chair he was carrying. Mary stood proudly but nervously before him, wearing only garter belt and stockings. At his amazed look, she laughed nervously.
“Well,” she said in a voice that only shook slightly, “you did say the exact same way, didn’t you?”
“I did,” he replied, his eyes drinking in the view. Long, slim legs, flaring hips, narrow waist, firm breasts somewhere between “medium” and “large”, capped by prominent nipples, all topped by the lovely face he’d been seeing since their arrival here. Shaking his head at his own reaction, Brian placed the chair in the middle of the floor, gesturing for Mary to seat herself. This she did, draping her arms over the back so that her hands hung behind her, palm to palm.
“Now what?” she asked. “You wouldn’t happen to have some rope, would you?”
“Actually,” he replied, “I do.” Opening a closet, he withdrew a large leather bag and placed it on the bed. “I never for a second expected to use this stuff here,” he explained. “Still, I didn’t want to chance it being found in my apartment while I was gone. So I brought it with me.”
Mary watched as he drew several lengths of rope from the bag, arranging them on the bed. Then he did something strange, moving his mirror from the end wall, placing it beside her. Glancing in the mirror, Mary realized that she could see her hands in the reflection. She nodded, understanding that Brian wanted her to see exactly what he was doing. Somehow, this consideration helped her to relax, and she watched quietly as he took up the first length of rope.
Doubling the rope, he placed the loop at the backs of her wrists, wrapping the length around and poking the ends through the loop. Reversing directions now, he wrapped her wrists three times before feeding the ends once more through the loop. This time he drew the ends out separately, one above and one below the wraps. These he now used to wrap twice between her wrists, cinching the original wraps snug, then tied off. The remaining lengths were wrapped twice around a slat in the chair’s back, then tied off again, before being fed around her waist twice and tied off a third time.
Glancing in the mirror, Mary saw how the rope not only held her hands securely in place, it also drew her firmly back into the chair. Glancing up, she nodded her approval, then watched as he took up a second rope.
Again, he started with the rope doubled, reaching between her back and the back of the chair to place the loop between her shoulders. Carefully, he wrapped the rope around her, using his hand to spread the two lengths so that one passed above her breasts, the other beneath. Reaching behind her, he once again fed the rope through the loop, reversing direction, then wrapping twice. With each wrap, the backs of his hands brushed against her, and Mary blushed suddenly at the realization that her nipples had grown quite hard. Not noticing, or pretending not to, Brian stepped behind her to feed the ropes once more through the loop.
“This part isn’t very easy, actually,” he said as he wrapped the rope around the center slat of the chair’s back. “With so little space between you and the chair, it takes a willing participant to get the ties done right.”
“Or a drugged one,” Mary said darkly.
“I prefer willing,” Brian stated, passing the remaining rope over her shoulders, one to each side. Both lengths were fed between her breasts, one behind and one in front of the original wraps. Both were then used to cinch those wraps, pinning her breasts between them, before being tied off.
“Ok so far?” Brian asked.
Mary tugged at her bonds, noting, with not a little nervousness, how well he had immobilized the upper half of her body. At her slow nod, he took up more rope, and soon her legs were bound as they had been before, feet held high to the chair seat, knees spread. Some experimental tugs showed her that she was, once more, securely bound to a chair, almost totally helpless. Her struggles ceased as she watched him pick up a bandana and fold it carefully.
“Um,” she said nervously, “if you put that in my mouth, how am I going to say ‘Ellen’ if something goes wrong?”
“You won’t,” Brian said softly, then raised his hand to stop the protest he saw in her eyes. “With a gag, safe words are, of course, useless, since you can’t speak. That’s when we use safe sounds.” At her questioning look, he smiled. “Are you by chance familiar with the song, Happy Birthday To You?” Rather scornfully, she nodded. “Very good. Let me hear you hum the first stanza.” When she had done so, he nodded.
“That,” he told her, “will be your safe sound. If you feel that anything is wrong, simply hum that song and I’ll know to let you loose. Ok?”
Mary nodded, then reluctantly opened her mouth for him to place the folded bandana inside. Taking the vet wrap, he wrapped it three times around her lower face, securely pinning the bandana in place. Stepping back, he watched as she struggled ineffectually against her bonds.
“How’s that?” he asked.
Mary paused, waiting for the old feelings of revulsion, humiliation, anger. Instead, she felt something different. Nearly naked, tied, gagged, totally helpless and exposed, she felt……safe. Somehow, she knew that this man would never allow her to come to harm. Instead of answering, she closed her eyes and explored this new sensation.
“May I?” Mary’s eyes opened, widening when she realized that Brian stood with his hand nearly touching her breast. At the questioning mumble that leaked from her gagged mouth, he smiled.
“You are bound by your own permission,” Brian said softly. “But permission to bind you does not automatically give me permission to touch. May I?”
For answer, Mary tugged against the bonds holding her upper body in place. They allowed almost no movement, but there was just enough to allow her nipple, barely, to graze the palm of his hand. With a smile, he cupped his hand over her breast, stroking softly. Mary’s eyes closed as she reveled in the sensation, only to fly open as the feeling stopped.
‘Why is he just standing there?’ she wondered. Here she was, totally helpless, totally exposed, and all he did was watch her. Suddenly, it struck her how much she wished he would touch her again. At that thought, she flushed hotly, almost wishing she could disappear.
Instead, she could only watch him as he watched her. This lasted for several minutes before he reached up and began unwrapping her head. Once the gag was removed, he quickly, efficiently removed the rest of her bonds, leaving her seated in the chair held only by her own mixed feelings.
“Well?” he asked. “Was there any difference?”
Mary nodded, then tried to explain. The differences seemed quite clear inside her head, but when she tried to put them into words, they came out so scrambled, she almost wished he would put the gag back in, a thought that caused her to fall silent in surprise.
“Then you understand the different responses caused by willing and unwilling bondage.” Brian smiled softly. “I think you’ve had enough for one evening, don’t you?”
Mary nodded, rising and quickly dressing. With a mumbled good night, she fled back to her quarters. Her vibrator, she knew, was definitely going to get a workout tonight.
19.09.11
story continues in Mary's Revelation 4
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