by Walt A.K.A. Xan

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© Copyright 2020 - Walt A.K.A. Xan - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bond; rope; rom; D/s; gag; blindfold; collar; heels; oral; crotchrope; tease; cons; X

All characters are fictitious and any similarities to any persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

After being a no-call/no-show at work for three days, one of my bodyguards finally tracked my secretary to a hotel downtown. He called me and I said I’d be there shortly. When I arrived, he met me out in the hall. Starting to push my way passed him, the Paramedics came out of her room pushing someone on their rescue-gurney. As they passed, I saw it was Ginger, and she looked like she was in bad shape.

“Boss, I peeked under the door with the camera-snake and when I saw her lying on the bed with booze and prescription bottles open and lying beside her, I called the EMTs. I used my card-reader to open the door for them and did what I could to keep her breathing until they got here.”

“You did well my friend. Sam will debrief you later. Right now, clean up this room before the cops get here. Pack up whatever she brought with her and make this look like whoever had been here left on their own. I’ll fix it with the management. I own a large piece of this hotel, so that won’t be a problem. We’ll check her into the hospital under an assumed name. Do what you have to do to clean this up. I want no trace left of what Miss O’Malley did here. Got it?”

“Yes Sir. Could you ask Sam to assign another one of his people to help me with this, please?”

“Sure. Sam, leave someone here to help him. The rest of you will come with me to the hospital. I’ll want two-man 24/7 protection for her suite. I’ll be moving my necessary business there until she’s discharged. Any questions?”

“Of course not, Sir. I’ll call my police contacts and muddy the waters until my people give me the all-clear on this room. Williams is already on the phone making arrangements with the hospital to admit her as a Jane Doe with special privileges. He’ll make sure she gets the best care possible. Your car is out front and ready to get you to the hospital as soon as you clear things up here. Don’t worry about a thing Sir. We have an SOP in place for situations like this. Just leave the rest of it to me and my crew.”

“Thanks Sam.”

Three days later, Ginger woke up. I was sitting beside her bed reading to her from one of her favorite books. I got up, smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Sir,” she said in a weak and shaky voice, “Whatever I did I’m sorry. It’s all still very fuzzy. Just what did I do?”

“It’s been reported that you consumed the better part of a pharmacy, and then drank enough vodka to shame three grown Russians. You must have been quite the party girl in college.”

Ginger started to cry, so, sitting on the side of her bed I scooped her into my arms and rocked her until she was calmer. By her breathing patterns I could tell she had faded back to sleep, so I laid her down, kissed her forehead again and went back to reading. This scenario played itself out in slightly different variations every time she woke up for the next few days. It wasn’t until the doctors cleared her, medically, and the shrink I brought in told me that she was coming around nicely that we decided to move her to my mansion.

It took Ginger a couple of days to acclimate herself to my at-home lifestyle. Unfortunately, I was rarely in attendance. After sitting with her at the hospital, I had a lot of work to catch up on. Usually, she was already asleep by the time I got home. My security people always had her in sight. Servants waited on her, bringing her food, drink or whatever she wanted. She explored my libraries, including my digitally stored entertainments. Ginger seemed to enjoy swimming in the pool, soaking in the hot tub, and just laying out on the patio. She also seemed to enjoy my gardens, apparently questioning Hideki, the man who had tended the estate gardens since I was a boy, about every little aspect of his efforts. It was late one night, and I was tired, but Ginger ambushed me.

“Sir, why did you bring me here, instead of letting me go home? Am I your prisoner in this gilded cage? Don’t you think I’d be more useful to you back at work?”

“Well, I guess it’s time for the big talk. Follow me into my office and have a seat.”

I opened up my bottom drawer and produced two sealed manila folders. Each was labeled, For Your Eyes Only: Ginger O’Malley. The last thing I placed on my desk, after moving a couple of things around, was a large, leather, Prada Tote I pulled from a cabinet.

Sitting down behind my desk, I smiled and said, “Ginger, I’ve replaced you as my secretary. These are the options I’m offering you as compensation.”

She began to cry.

“In this first envelope are your options for a lateral move within my companies. Because of your knowledge of my various companies you would move into a VP slot and continue to be one of my top aides in my business dealings. Your salary would naturally increase with the position and there would be appropriate perks too. Check out the list. Any of these would be an excellent career choice for a worker-bee like you.

Still crying, she said, “You just want to get rid of me. I thought we worked well together, as a team.”

“Hear me out Ginger. If I just wanted to be rid of you, HR would be handling this. Now, please, let me finish this presentation.”

“Yes Sir,” she said, sniffling back more tears.

“This second option is a straight buyoff. In the second envelope is a cashier’s check for three million dollars, U.S., made out to you. I figure that should give you the lifestyle of your choice, pretty much anywhere you want to go. There is also a form that says that I will pay the taxes on this money, so that you will be able to spend the entire three mil, anyway you want to.”

Blubbering now, with her hands covering her face, all I could make out was, “…You just want to get rid of me… you don’t want me in your life... how could you...” repeated over and over again.

I got up, walked around the desk and pulled her out of her seat and into my arms. I hugged her tightly, until she quit trying to pull away, and then whispered into her ear, “No, Ginger, just the opposite. I want you in my life. I want you with me, just not as my secretary. Now, please, try to calm down and let me finish my presentation. I’m really hoping you’ll accept my third option. It would mean a lot to me if you did.”

I handed her a box of tissues and let her compose herself. I was standing in front of her chair, legs spread, hoping she didn’t bolt out of the room. When she looked calmer, I moved to my mini bar, poured her a shot of my smoothest scotch and handed it to her, encouraging her to take a drink.

“Now Ginger, on to my third option for you to consider. First off, let me explain that I don’t want you as my secretary because you are an unbelievable distraction for me at work.”

Her eyes got big, her eyebrows shot up and her mouth opened. 

“Ginger, you are an excellent secretary, efficient, well organized, intuitive, always ready with what I need when I need it, and I couldn’t ask for anyone smarter or better at her job.”

“But Sir, then...”

“Why am I letting you go? Because you are a constant distraction to me. As they say in 12-step programs, I rent you too much space in my head. At the office, I need to get work done, and daydreaming about you does nothing to keep me productive and efficient. I have a multinational conglomerate to run and way too often, all I can think about is you. The lingering scent of your perfume distracts me. Seeing you walk so gracefully in your work heels almost always gives me ideas. There’s more, but right now I have to get back to my offer.”

“But Sir, I’ve seen the women you go out with, and they’re all stunningly gorgeous. I know what I look like, and even though I try my best to be attractive, in a professional way, how could I possibly compete with them?”

“They’re arm-pieces Ginger, no different than the expensive clothes I wear to these social functions. I never bring them here. I don’t take them to fancy hotels, and I never sleep with any of them. They are window dressing for my public persona. Nothing more.”

“But Sir, does that mean you’re...”

“No, I’m not gay, or even bisexual. Nor am I asexual or celibate. While we’re going down this path, I’m a merinthophile. Here’s your phone, look it up.”

“Uh, Sir, this says that merinthophilia is about the sexual urges to tie someone up or to be tied up. So, if you’re a merinthophile, do you like to be tied up, or do you like to do the tying?”

“I always do the tying. In fact, I cannot become sexually aroused unless my ‘female’ partner is tied up and helpless. In the parlance, I identify as a male, heterosexual dominant merinthophile. I’ve been this way since I was a small child. My earliest memories of tying up little girls was when I was four years old, and even though my parents did everything in their considerable power to discourage this behavior, I have always been aroused by and sought out every available opportunity to tie up willing women. Even images of women tied up draws my interest. I’m a 9.99 on a 1 to 10 scale.”

Looking up at me with big eyes she asked, “Wow... uh, Sir, does that mean you want to tie me up?”


I watched Ginger as this registered on her consciousness. I enjoyed the expressions that played across her face as she accepted this news. 

“However, I only practice my art on women willing to be tied up and this is the important part, I’m only truly happy if they like being tied up as much as I like making them helpless. That’s why I offered you these other two options. I fantasize about tying you up every time I see you, and it’s very distracting and non-productive in an office environment.”

“Then you don’t want to get rid of me?” which came out with a sob and a sniffle, but also with a huge smile.

“What I want is to teach you the art of bondage which is so much a part of my life, and I hope, with all my heart, that you find that submitting to my ropes and gags as fascinating and fulfilling as I do.”

“So, what’s in the bag, Sir?”

I smiled and handed it to her. Her eyes lit up as she started pulling out bundled pieces of rope. She started laying the rope out on the desk.

“Sir, this is an awful lot of rope. Do you really need all of this to tie me up? I mean, I know I’ve got a big butt, but is all this really necessary?”

“I put about 250 feet of rope in there for you. I have more. I could make do with two, twelve-foot sections, one for your wrists and one for your ankles, but there would be little of the art of bondage to a simple tie you like that. A lot of the sensuality of bondage comes in the multiple wraps around different parts of your body as I take you from simply restrained to very helpless. Bondage is not a speed test. If all I wanted to do was quickly restrain you, I’d use zip-ties or handcuffs. Laying rope on a woman’s flesh is like an artist painting a picture, with the ropes being his palette of colors and her body being his canvas. The artform of bondage I practice is not just precise and complicated, it is efficient and even decorative, at times. My ropes enhance the curves of a woman’s body, hugging her form like a lover’s embrace. Each winding is cumulative, adding to her helplessness and the beauty I find in her.”

“Sir, you also put high heels in here, along with some hosiery and some lingerie. And by the looks of them Sir, these are very expensive heels and they’re in my size. Sir, you have all sorts of things in this bag. Do you want me to change into these things for you?”

“Only if you agree to let me tie you up.”

“Oh, that’s a forgone conclusion Sir. When I’m alone at night, I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be tied up and gagged. I’ve had fantasies about being, ‘tied up, taken away and held for ransom’, just like that old song. And the idea of you tying me up, well, that’s a no-brainer as far as I’m concerned. So, I’ll go change into what you packed for me, freshen up a bit, and then you can tie me up. You’ll have to stick a piece of tape over my mouth, so I can’t say ‘no’ to whatever you’ll do to me once you have me at your mercy. Then you can begin to teach me what you love to do. I think it’ll be exciting to play tie-up games with you.”

Although in my mind it seemed like forever, by the clock it wasn’t long before Ginger came out of my private bathroom. She walked out very slowly, carefully walking on heels that were higher than she was used to. Smiling, as she stood in front of me, I guided Ginger’s arms behind her back and held them there with one hand around her wrists. Combing my fingers through her red hair with my other hand, I made a fist to grab as much hair as I could and pulled her head back before I kissed her. This was our first kiss and I savored it, making the most of this intimacy. Ginger wriggled and made little happy noises, kissing me back with surprising passion. I was in no hurry to end this closeness, so after a few moments with her lips I moved my mouth to her neck and began to nibble and gnaw on her as I controlled the placement of her head with the hand still in her hair. Ginger shivered and moaned even louder as I did. Her body molded to mine as we became acquainted like this.

Pulling back and releasing my hold on her, I said, “Before we go any further, I have to check your flexibility.”

With a hand on each bicep just above her elbows, I gently pulled her arms together. As I had guessed, because of her narrow shoulders, her elbows could meet behind her back. It would be a bit of a strain, but with a little stretching, they would easily touch sooner, than later.

“Wow Sir, I never realized I was that limber. With my arms pulled back like that my breasts really stick out. Are you going to tie them like that? I think I’d like to experience that.”

With no further invitation needed, I took a fifteen-foot piece of rope and tied her wrists together behind her back, palm-to-palm. Picking up a twenty-five-foot piece I made a wrap around her upper arms, slowly working it until her elbows were touching, and then used the rest of the piece to wind a wide wrap around her upper arms. With a third piece I cinched her arm wraps and wound the long ends around her shoulders as a harness to anchor the ropes on her arms.

“Oh wow, Sir, that’s tight. Do you like how I look tied like this? Is there more? Sir, would you please kiss me again, like this?”

With a hand on each side of her face I kissed her again and had to grab her as her knees gave out. 

“Oh, Sir, I think I’m going to like this. Do more, please.”

“Even when I do this,” and I began to tickle her ribs?

Ginger’s shrieks got us both laughing as she tried to squirm away but couldn’t go far. Actually, it seemed that she didn’t want to go too far, but no woman can hold still while you’re tickling them. She did try hard to maneuver around so she could kiss me, hoping that her lips could stop my fingers. When her lips found mine, the tickling stopped, and I began to caress her breasts through the silk camisole she had chosen to wear. Her nipples went from hard to flinty in her excitement and I could taste her arousal on her breath. Grabbing a handful of her left asscheek in one hand, Ginger began to grind her pelvis against me, very suggestively.

“Oh Sir, this is just magical. Take me Sir. Make me yours. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“First Ginger, there’s a matter of trust to establish,” and pulling a simple blindfold from my pocket I fitted the cutout over her nose and tied the ends behind the back of her head. I stepped back.

“Now my dear, this game of blind woman’s bluff is designed to get you to listen to what I say and to follow my instructions.”

While I was telling her this, I was tying a longer rope around her waist and forearms, cinching the multiple wraps between her back and her bound arms, to limit their movement from side to side. When I was done, I turned her around a few times so that she had no orientation point to start from.

“Ginger, using nothing but my voice, I intend to lead you into my playroom. To avoid running into something, follow my commands, immediately doing exactly what I tell you to do. Understood?”

“This sounds like a fun game Sir. You won’t let me hurt myself, will you?”

Using carefully modulated voice commands I maneuvered her through the maze of furniture. A couple of times she didn’t stop quickly enough and bumped into something. Because of the slower pace set by the six-inch stilettos, she didn’t collide with anything fast enough to cause damage. These few instances did give her a clearer understanding of immediate obedience.

She always popped up with, “Glad that wasn’t a coffee table,” or just a “Whoops, sorry,” usually giggling to hide her nervousness. I smiled when she acknowledged her mistakes, which I thought added to a healthy foundation for her mindset to behave. 

I stayed very close to her taking her down the stairs into my basement playroom. Unlocking the security door from the keypad, I brought Ginger into my inner sanctum and watched her reaction as she heard the heavy door close with a solid chunk. Once inside, I dimmed the lights a little and took off her blindfold so she could take a look around. While she did, I untied her. Ginger stretched and examined the dents in her skin from the ropes. Then she did a quick walk around, giving a cursory examination of my private office and playroom style dungeon.

“Before you get the full nickel-ninety-eight tour, go over to the keypad and punch in this number. Make sure you’ve memorized it. Now go out, close the door and come back in on your own. You will be the only other person in the world with the combination to this door. Now go on and do it.”

When she came back in, even though it would have closed on its own, she helped pull it closed. Pushing on it to make sure it was sealed, she put her back against the door and stated, “Well, it seems like I’ve got you all to myself now. Your very excited and anxious prisoner is curious about what you’re going to do to her next.”

“Okay. Come over here and put your wrists together in front of you. This will be a simple tie just to keep you used to the feel of ropes. I figure you’re going to want to get handsy as you examine my inner sanctum sanctorum.”

She did, fingering the wide selection of bondage devices, toys, gags and things she couldn’t immediately identify, but knew belonged in a collection like this. Then she went from what she found in my various cabinets and hanging from pegs on the walls to the pieces of bondage furniture I had collected to decorate my den. I saw her shiver a few times as her imagination painted an image in her mind, but for the most part she was all smiles and seemed as excited as a puppy in a new home. When she found the rack of hanging clothes on top of a chest of drawers, she looked very closely at them and turned to me in surprise.

“Sir! They all seem to be in my size. Even the pouches of shoes on the sides of this bureau are all in my size? They all look very expensive and all of them have very high stiletto heels. Are they all for me? Is this what you want to see me in? And how long have you been planning to kidnap me?”

“First off, kidnap victims do not get the combinations to the door of their cell. They are not pampered and cared for like you will get living here, and if you want, I will wake my chauffeur up and have him take you anywhere you want to go. I will not force you into this lifestyle. I want...”

“Sir, please, I know what you want, and I want to give me, to you, for as long as you want me. This is like heaven to me. I’ve wanted you for so long. Basically from the first day we met. Now that I know that you want me as much as I’ve always wanted you, well, let’s get this bondage show on the road. Knowing that you went to all this trouble, for me, well I’m feeling all warm and womanly. I like that. Women need to feel wanted and desired.

“Sure, these heels are a little hard to walk in, but no woman is born knowing how to gracefully walk in heels. But we learn. We learn for a variety of reasons. I learned to wear higher and skinnier heels into the office by watching and appreciating the smile they put on your face. I’ll do the same thing now, knowing you want to see me wear these skyscrapers. In the same genre, I’ll wear anything you want me to, just to see that smile on your face when you look at me. Obviously, wearing ropes makes you smile and I’m assuming these other things put a smile on your face too, so again, that’s a no-brainer for me. I want to please you. It’s very satisfying to feel your appreciation for what I do for you. I liked what you just did to me with those ropes. It felt good, because you were the one that tied me up. It made me happy, and I felt very feminine being in your control. I trust you, and I’ve always got a little squirmy seeing a woman tied up and manhandled by a man, especially one that didn’t want to harm her. I think it’s hot, and I want more of it, especially from you. Please, Sir. Tie me up and make me yours.”

An involuntary yawn broke the mood. I grinned sheepishly.

“Long day Sir?”

I started telling her, like she was still my secretary and had certain goals to accomplish when I caught myself. 

“You know, I’ll let Williams take care of all that stuff tomorrow. Right now, with the little bit of energy I’ve got left, I’m going to get you ready for bed.” 

I untied Ginger, ushered her into the bathroom and began to pull her sleepwear out of the drawers. When she got back, she looked a little wide-eyed at what I was preparing for her.

“Take off the cami and shorts set but leave the hose and heels on. One aspect of my slightly obsessive fetishes is that I like to know that the woman I’m sleeping beside is bound and gagged for my pleasure. I have no doubt that this will be both unusual and fairly uncomfortable for you tonight but sleeping in bondage is something I want you to get used to doing. Tonight, and for one night only, I’ll give you the choice. If you don’t want this to happen, use the keypad to open the door and go up to the room you stayed in last night. We’ll renegotiate this relationship tomorrow. If not, strip down and come here.”

Ginger quickly stripped off the little bit she was wearing and came over, looking me in the eye and smiling. I kissed her goodnight and then picked up the gag off the bed. With her help moving her hair around and adjusting the fit, I strapped a penis-trainer-gag on her, snugging up the straps and buckles that went all around her head to hold the silicone phallus in her mouth. A padded panel covered her lower face, reducing any noise she would make. As she played with it, I picked up the single sleeve. Pulling her arms behind her, I slipped the vinyl sleeve up and over her arms, helping her push into it until it was fitted properly. I chose this one because it was a little stretchy and would hold even pressure on her arms rather than the bands of rope would have. I adjusted the laces so that she had some room to move, keeping her elbows a few inches apart rather than snugging them down until they met. Next, I buckled the retaining straps over her shoulders to keep this sack from slipping off her arms and finally adjusted the Velcro wrist strap. The last thing I did was buckle a three-inch wide leather collar around her neck and locked it on with a padlock. With a piece of chain I had permanently attached to my headboard, I snapped it to one of the D-rings on the collar.

Leaving her to lay there while I got ready for bed, I dimmed the lights and crawled in next to her, covering us both up with a light blanket. Ginger whimpered for attention, but as I petted her the sandman let me fade to black and I slept very soundly, even subconsciously knowing that Ginger was squirming around beside me trying to find a comfortable position. Her movements didn’t bother me. In fact, they were quite the soporific.

When my alarm went off, I got up, yawned and looked into the wide eyes of my new bondage bottom. I unsnapped the chain from her collar, undid the straps to her single-sleeve and tugged it off her arms. While she was stretching, I unbuckled her head-harness and used a hand towel to help her collect the accumulated drool as she expelled the phallus-gag. For my trouble I got the most passionate kiss I could remember. Her arms around my neck were crushingly tight without being painful. Her body molded to mine like a composite-opposite, and she reeked of excited pheromones. When we finally separated, I looked down at her and she was blushing so deeply the colour went past her neck to the tops of her breasts.

“Good morning my beloved Sir. I feel so owned.”

“As well you should, because unless you leave me, you are owned, by my heart. I’m hungry. I’m going up to get some nourishment. Care to join me?”

“I could eat. Should I dress, or is nudity a standard for your slave girls?”

“Well technically, you’re not a slave girl, yet, but...”

“Semantics, Sir. In my mind I am, but you can and will call me anything that makes you happy. After all a label is just that, a label. My heart came to this conclusion last night as I laid beside you and watched you sleep very peacefully, no matter how much I bounced around. You were happy with me helplessly bound and gagged beside you, and it showed on your face. That made me happy, so I decided that I would be your slave girl and make you the happy master of my mind, body and heart.”

“Sounds like that’s settled then. So, throw on a robe, take your heels and hose off and meet me up in the dining room.”

“Oh, thank you Sir. They’ll take me a little time to get used to wearing and walking in that high of a heel for you. Are they six-inches, or higher?”

Over breakfast I told her of my plans.

“Unfortunately, I have things to do today that will need my full and undivided attention. I plan to squeeze as much in today as I can, so I may or not be home tonight. I want to take a few days off soon to get you settled into your new role, but as you know, some things I need to do cannot be pushed or ignored. With you gone and even with Williams doing the best job he can, things will not go as smoothly as they used to. So, I have arranged for a few diversions for you today. The first appointment you’ll have is with my personal masseuse. She’s an old friend named Kathleen. She’ll poke some acupuncture needles in you, realign you with some Rieke, and then massage your muscles into Jello. She spent years in China learning the art and she’s been doing that to me for about twenty years now. 

“Your second appointment will be with the Glamor-Girls. I’ve already told them how I want your hair cut and styled, what color I want it and what I want them to teach you about maintaining it. Their services will include a mani/pedi, and a tutorial on cosmetics and skin care. This crew has been with me since I set them up in their own studio in Hollywood, years ago. I flew them out just for you. 

“After they are through, Danny, who is now your personal bodyguard and the head of the team guarding you, like Sam is mine, will go over the safety procedures with you. He will also start you on an exercise regimen as your personal trainer. Sam took him off my detail and assigned him a detail of his own to cover you 24/7/365. If there are any problems, or even a personality conflict, let Sam know and he’ll fix it. You know I trust Sam, and I want someone like that for you. I do not want to worry about you when I’m gone. 

“When you get done with all that, if I’m not back yet, I want you to explore this dungeon. On this computer, which is air-gapped and is its own private server, is an extensive collection about the BDSM genre, with how-to tutorials, psychological lectures about different aspects of the genre, histories of the genre from ancient BDSM practices, to the modern legends and current forerunners in the various fields, and finally over a terabyte of videos I’ve collected, many of which I haven’t even watched yet. Because of my generous donations, I have everything that the Kinsey Institute of Human Sexuality has on BDSM, so if you have any questions, my databank should be sufficient to answer any and all of those questions.”

“You have been planning this kidnapping for a while, haven’t you? As your former secretary, I knew nothing of this chicanery. You’re a sneaky boss, but a wonderful master. Have I told you how much I love this kind of attention? This whole thing is just so delicious and exciting.”

I smiled, gave her a kiss on the mouth and as I passed Kathleen on her way in, I gave her a kiss on the cheek. Two days later, in the late afternoon, I got back and found Ginger waiting for me. We had been texting each other regularly while I was making my deals, and I had gotten full reports from my staff. Short of an emergency, I had the next four days off with my new slave.

Closing the front door behind me, Ginger was waiting for me. She had catered to a fetish of mine and was wearing a short, blousy-sleeved scoop-necked cream-colored blouse, a black corset, tight brown disco-shorts, bronze pantyhose with seams, and a pair of white strappy six-inch pumps. These shoes had three thin straps over her insteps and three thin straps around each ankle. It wasn’t quite an Oktoberfest costume with lederhosen, but it suited my fancy, and Ginger looked hot wearing it. She twirled and posed for my approval, and then ran into my arms. For her efforts, she was properly mauled and mussed up until she squealed with delight.

Before she could start fishing for compliments, I kissed her and said, “Of all the selections we talked about, you, wearing this one is giving me all sorts of ideas on what I want to do to you. You are smoking hot.”

“Why, thank you Sir. Does one of those ideas have anything to do with tying me up? Knowing how much you like that sort of thing; I would love to feel helpless and totally controlled by you. I’ve actually been looking forward to you tying me up and gagging me. That sounds like fun.”

“So, you want to be totally controlled by me, huh?”

“Yes Sir, please.”

“Okay, while I go up and change out of this suit, go in and tell the cook to deliver us a large pizza to the basement. She knows what I like. After that, just go down there and wait for me. I won’t be long.”

“Yes Sir.”

When I got there, I positioned Ginger by the small dinette set I had down there and told her to lay on her back. Moving each one of her legs so that the heels were up against her butt, I used wide wraps of rope to tie and cinch her ankles to her upper thighs. I made sure to secure her high heels with loops going under the heels up to the ropes cinching her legs in this frog-tie. When both legs were tied like this, I helped her up and into a kneeling position right by the chair I was going to sit in.


“Yes Sir, I could kneel at your feet like this for quite a long time.”

“Good, now put your arms behind your back, it’s time to tie them.”

Positioning them so that her wrists were crossed, I tied them like I was lashing two poles together, tying off the knots high up and between her forearms. Longer ropes encircled her torso and arms going over and under her breasts. I used another rope to form a shoulder harness, using the long ends to cinch everything snuggly and securely. The last rope I tied on her went around her waist and lower arms. I knotted it off before I pulled it down through her crotch and anchored it to her wrist ropes. To finish off her bondage, I buckled a blindfold on her.

“I like this Sir. I’m definitely feeling helpless and controlled. I’m really beginning to like bondage. It calms my mind down. I can’t do anything but squirm around, so I don’t have to fight with my demons that are telling me to do this or do that. I no longer have an agenda. Being helpless means I am no longer in control. I just have to accept whatever you decide to do to me, which, because it’s coming from you, is actually quite delicious. I used to fantasize about being your plaything. Being tied by you makes this a dream come true.”

“That’s a good thing. I knew I wanted you the day I hired you. Watching you grow into the consummate personal assistant made you indispensable in my life. It also made you forbidden fruit. I became too infatuated with you to wrap my head around anyone being able to replace you. I felt like no one could do your job better or even as well as you did it.”

:::ding – ding – ding:::

“Ah, our pizza has been delivered. Wait right here. Don’t go anywhere and I must warn you, talk to no one.”

Ginger began to giggle.

“Oh Sir, that smells good. Would you hurry up and untie me, before it gets cold.”

“Nope,” and with that I put a piece up to her lips.

“Open up and take a bite,” I said. “Before it gets cold.”

As Ginger was chewing and making sounds of how good it tasted, I started to lay out my plans for the evening.

“I need you fully fueled because we’re going to explore bondage and costuming tonight. As long as you don’t code-out, I’m going to tie you in a series of my favorite fantasies concerning you, and you my dear, are going to be all helpless and pretty for me. Being tied at my feet and unable to even feed yourself is just one aspect of your helplessness. Get used to it. During our play sessions, you will regularly be tied, and hand fed by me. I like the subliminal dynamic this establishes. Your sustenance comes from the hand of your master. Put’s things on a whole different level, doesn’t it?”

“Oh God Sir, this is so hot. No, no, not the pizza Sir. Being helplessly tied and being fed by you. This is really pushing buttons on me. I love this. May I have another bite, please?”

I gave her sips of my cold beer through a straw and Ginger continued to make happy little noises while she ate. About halfway through her third piece I noticed her enthusiasm was slowing down.

“Had enough?”

“Sir, being fed like this is very exciting, but this corset is limiting my appetite. May I have one more sip of beer before we continue with our bondage games? What’s next on the agenda?”

“Considering you’re in the perfect position, I want you to take me into your mouth and show me some appreciation for this. We’ll call it desert.”

“Gladly Sir. I’ve dreamed about servicing you with my mouth. I’m very orally inclined, Sir, and this will be just another dream come true.”

I stepped out of my pants, repositioned my chair and guided her onto my hard-on. Never being one to grab the back of a woman’s head for this type of endeavor, I let Ginger start slow and get used to me. Obviously wanting to be more hands-on, she fought her bondage in the beginning until she accepted this new way of giving a man pleasure, and then she became very enthusiastic in her efforts. I’m about averagely gifted, so it was not a chore for her to take all of me in her mouth. Again, her efforts to deep throat me were clumsy at first, but she found her rhythm and it became very enjoyable. I hoped she was enjoying herself. I played with the parts of her that I could easily reach, lightly pulling the hair that wasn’t covered by her blindfold and stroking her face. My efforts to prolong my happiness surged out of my control as she hit certain nerve endings with her tongue. With a loud moan, I erupted into her mouth. Ginger tried to swallow as much of it as she could and spent several moments cleaning up any spillage while I shook with ecstasy. She was careful as she labored to clean up as much as she could with her lips and tongue. The barely recognizable noises she was making told me that she was happy and content giving me this type of pleasure.

“Oh Sir, you taste good. I knew you would. I’ve been dying to taste you for years now and doing this with my hands tied behind my back makes me feel like Superwoman. Bound submission is my new superpower. You’ve made me so happy Sir. As much as I want to feel you inside of me, I’ll happily do that for you anytime you want me to, tied or not. Sir, I’m so excited I’m soaked and ready for more.”

“Well, let’s get you untied so we can move on to my next fantasy. For this one, we’ll do a slight wardrobe change and then I’ll re-tie you.”

“I like the sound of that Sir.”

While Ginger stretched, I stripped my clothes off. She made several compliments about how fit I was and when she started to tell me what she wanted to do to various parts of me, I cupped my hand over her mouth.

“We can get into that a little later. Right now, I want you to take off that corset, the disco shorts, your blouse and those heels. Then, knowing how women feel about wearing their lover’s shirt, go ahead and put mine on. Many women like the smell and I’ve been sweating in mine all day. Our next experiment with bondage will be a little different. After you get rehydrated, use the facilities and tell me you’re ready for more, I’m going to tie your legs together, very securely. Right before I start tying you, position that pair of red pumps by you on the floor. Your toes can wriggle freely until I’ve got rope in my hand. Once I have your legs tied to my satisfaction, you will help me, put you, into some sensory deprivation. You will be severely gagged and then blindfolded. I will muffle your ability to hear and then wrap your head to help seal out any sensory input to your eyes, ears and mouth. Because this level of head-bondage can be a bit scary, even after you get used to it, your hands and arms will be free. If you just want a breather, or you want me to slow down, fold your hands up like you are praying. I won’t continue until you unfold them. If you start to freak out, just clap your hands. I’ll release you until we can rebuild this head bondage. Once you are relatively calm, I will mitten your hands, taking away your sense of touch and we will cuddle on the couch. Your safe-gesture will still be the same. If you cannot control your freak out, just bang your mittened hands together and I will release you. Your arms and wrists will not be tied for this. If you’re okay with this, I will simply hold you in my arms, cuddling you and petting you, thanking my lucky stars for having found you. Any questions?”

“Can I put on my red heels now, for you?”

“One part of submission, which you will learn, practice and improve on over time, is doing precisely what I tell you to do. You see, I want to put those red heels on your feet right before I tie them on. One of my pet peeves is having women kick off their heels when their legs get tied together. So, I tie their high heels on so they can’t kick them off.”

“Couldn’t you just order me to keep my heels on? I wouldn’t kick them off if you told me not to.”

“Ginger, I like the sentiment, but you must indulge my fetishes. Tying a woman’s high heels on her feet is one of my favorite fetishes,” and I smiled.

“Yes Sir. I can get behind that. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

“Now let’s get started.”

Starting with her ankles, I layered bands of rope around her ankles, below her knees and around her shins, in between these other two bands. I did not cinch them. The bands of rope around her upper legs I pulled a little tighter. One band wrapped around her legs just under her crotch, one was wrapped just above her knees, and two more bands went around her legs in between these two. Ginger giggled the entire time I was tying her. I think she was a little nervous. I could smell her arousal as I was on one knee in front of her doing the wrapping.

Making her lift my shirt up I wrapped a long, doubled rope twice around her waist, just above her hip bones. I tied a half hitch in front and then took the long ends between her legs, snugging the doubled strands between her labial lips and making another hitch to the waist rope behind her. With the long ends, I brought them down and started cinching the bands of rope around her legs. I would loop a cinch through the ropes, snug it tight, make a hitch to secure it and then go down to the next band of rope repeating that process. When I was done, all seven wraps of rope around her legs were cinching them much tighter, and because they were all connected to a central line, none of the bands would loosen and slip down her legs. Ginger, ooohed and ahhhed as I tied her, continuing to giggle and make little noises that I interpreted as pleasurable.

“Well Sir, running away is now out of the question. This feels really good. Especially this rope going up inside of me.”

“That’s a crotch rope Ginger. Get used to it. You’ll be wearing one somewhat regularly.”

I picked her up and carried her the few feet over to the couch and sat her down. There I put her red, six-inch pumps on each foot and with another rope tied them on. This rope went across her insteps and was knotted off under her soles. The doubled strands then went from under her soles up one side of her foot, looped around the cinch between her ankles, back down under the saddle of each of her stilettos, back up through her ankle cinch and then down the other side of her other foot. Making a cinch so that this rope couldn’t slide off over the toes, it came back up and was knotted off to her ankle cinch.

“Wow Sir, you really don’t want me to be able to kick these heels off. This is amazing. I love it. What’s next Sir?”

Ginger was already starting to sound a bit nervous, so I sat down next to her on the couch and we cuddled for a little bit.

“I’ve got some pre-cut pieces of silk to test on you, with your help, to see which size fills your mouth completely. For a gag to be effective, a properly sized wadding must fill the mouth. Then something must be layered over the mouth to hold that wadding in. Gags are another fetish of mine. Some are more effective than others. Now to be honest, a gag does not keep a woman silent. At best it keeps her from articulating words normally and muffles the amount of noise she can make. With practice, some men can interpret what a woman is trying to say when she is gagged, but long and involved conversations are pretty much out of the question. 

“Some gags make a woman drool all over the place, like ball-gags. I’m sure you produced an excess of drool wearing that penis-gag I put on you the first night. Mostly, the drool reinforces the fact that you are no longer in control of your normal bodily functions. In polite society it is a major faux pas to not control any drool that forms in your mouth. When you are helpless, and gagged, drooling reminds you of the normal freedom that has been taken away from you with your bondage. Some of the most famous bondage models are noted for producing copious amounts of drool during their shoots, subliminally showing the audience just how out of control their bondage has made them. Some models go out of their way not to drool, but even they are not always successful. So, in a nutshell, I leave it up to you when you are gagged. Clothes can be cleaned. In this household, you don’t even have to be the one that does the washing or cleaning, so drool if you want, or slurp it up. Drooling is not a fetish of mine. I just wanted to let you know what could happen. Besides, I like holding you like this.”

“I love this Sir. I could cuddle like this, with you, forever.”

“So, now it’s time to get you gagged. The first thing I’m going to do is...”

“Sir, may I interrupt you, please?”

“Of course. Already got a problem with getting gagged?”

“No, no Sir, just the opposite. Listen, I love you, and trust you, and I am so happy now, happier than I’ve ever been, and I love, love, love how you’re trying so hard to ease me into this world that excites you so much, but Sir, please just do it to me. Gag me, wrap me all up until you are happy. That’s what ‘I’ want. That’s what ‘I’ need. I don’t need to know every little thing you’re doing to me. I could have never guessed how wonderful everything you’ve done to me so far has been. There’s no explanation in the world that could have prepared me for how much I love what you do to me, but when you did it, I liked it. I liked it a lot. I love it, and I love you, so Sir, please just gag me. Do whatever it is that will make you happy. Then tie me up and make me the most helpless slave-girl you can imagine. I won’t complain, even if I’m not gagged. You see, it’s more exciting and wonderful for me to know that you want me so much that you’re going out of your way to keep me safe and happy, so just do it. Do whatever you want to me. I know I’ll be safe in your arms. All I need is to know that you want me. Women need to be wanted. I know I want you, so just gag me, tie me up and enjoy me. I’m all yours Sir. Forever and today, I’m yours. Just hold my helpless body close to yours and I’ll be in heaven.”

Placing wireless electronic earbuds in each ear, I tested them so we could get the volume right. I also fitted a Breathe-Right strip over her nose knowing it would help with what I had planned for her. After several tries, we found the right size square silk wadding for her mouth. Using three-inch Micro-foam tape, I sealed that wadding in her mouth, pulling the tape cleave-style around and around her head. Ginger held her hair out of the way as much as possible, smiling with her eyes. Again, helping me, Ginger held the sound reduction pads over her ears as I wrapped layer after layer of Kerlix around her head. With make-up pads over her eyes, I cut off her sight as wraps of the self-sticking Kerlix completely enveloped her head. Communicating with her from my iPhone to the buds in her ears, I checked to make sure she was okay. Ginger nodded and I turned the white noise app on, selecting one of the rain settings, with a thunderstorm off in the distance. 

With both of us on the couch, we cuddled for a while. In the beginning, Ginger’s hands were all over me, reassuring herself that I was with her. I petted her bound legs, unbuttoned my shirt that she was wearing so I had access to her tits, and got her very excited from these manipulations. Finally, Ginger just shrugged off the shirt. I smiled.

When she pulled her arms behind her, holding them as close together as she could, I decided it was time to finish her bondage. Putting nitrile gloves on her, I used electricians’ tape to loosely seal her extended fingers into flippers. Then, folding them over into a loose fist, I ran tape around the back of her hand and over her bent fingers. Now all she had at the end of her wrists were little black nubs. With more rope, I tied her wrists behind her, and then I tied her elbows fairly close together. They weren’t touching, but she was quite helpless. I tied more ropes over and below her tits, winding them around her arms. Another rope was tied around her shoulders as a harness, and the last rope went around her waist, over her forearms and was cinched between her arms and her back. Then I pulled her into my arms and went back to petting her now, much more helpless body. 

Ginger squirmed, wriggled and moaned while my hands explored her skin that was bulging out from between the ropes. After she reacted in such a way as to make me believe that she’d had at least two orgasms just from me playing with her tits, and at least two more from manipulating, teasing and tickling her pussy, I allowed her to just lay in my arms. As carefully as I could, I turned up the volume of the thunderstorm. I wanted her to associate those sounds to what I had just done to her. I held her in my arms like that for a long time. I think Ginger, helplessly tied and gagged like this, actually fell asleep.

She didn’t move a muscle as I untied her. Ginger was still basically a wet noodle as I carried her in my arms upstairs to the enclosed Jacuzzi by the pool. She did make happy noises though, repeatedly telling me that she loved what I had just done to her and that she wanted more of this magical bondage stuff from me. While we soaked, letting the warm water jet across our muscles, Ginger kept looking up at the blue, cloudless sky. Even though I didn’t ask, I suspected that she was looking for signs of the rain and storm.

“Sir,” she finally said, “I never knew.”


Decades later, it didn’t matter how much money I spent on the very best doctors in the world, none of them could save my Ginger from crossing over. I held her as she faded away, kissing her and stroking her hair. I don’t think she consciously knew who I was, but my touch was familiar, and it comforted her. I adamantly refused to let the doctors perform an autopsy or embalm her. With multiple confirmations that she was truly gone, I carried her to her thick glass coffin, kissed her one last time and sealed her in by having technicians weld the seams. Our closest friends, all merinthophiles, helped me convey her coffin to my vault, where she was placed on her side of our double sarcophagus.

For the next three days I settled all of my affairs. I left my estate and businesses to Sam’s twin daughters, who were now my loyal bodyguards, like Sam had been until he’d died. When everything was as I wanted it to be at the end of my life, I smiled as I drank my last drink. I’d had the most fabulous life, with a woman that was faithful only to me, and made me happy with every breath she took. Ginger, my carefree and enthusiastic merinthophile had truly blessed my life in every way imaginable. Now I would lay beside her for eternity, her in her glass coffin and me in mine, sealed side by side in our sarcophagus and buried under tons and tons of concrete. I never had one regret.


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