The Trance

Sweat beaded up on his forehead and on his body making his skin damp and shiny. The sweat was from both exertion and from worry - perhaps fear. He struggled, but got nowhere. And he cursed his brother. The whole sorry fiasco was his brother's fault. If he had only ignored his brother's advice, he wouldn't be in the terrible situation that now confronted him. 

Tom and Tim Boccardi were identical twins. Wild, uninhibited, they grew up in a tough Italian neighborhood where they played hard with their friends. As they grew up, their favorite games involved tying people up, their friends, and each other, or better yet, letting the others tie them up. Everyone in the neighborhood, boys and girls alike, knew that the Boccardi twins would let anyone tie them up any time. The twins were experts at binding people, gagging them, teaching them how to administer inescapable bondage, and then becoming the subjects themselves. 

As they dated, the twins looked for girls who had adventuresome spirits, were receptive to their games. They lost count of how many times they had spent time with this or that girlfriend with either the girl or themselves trussed up and gagged, petting, tickling, caressing, and finally, making passionate love. 

Tim married first. She was Ellen Tosi, a wild girl who clearly loved the dark eyed, dark hared Tim Boccardi. Tim later told his brother, Tom, that he had spent most of his honeymoon tied to the bed in the hotel in Hawaii, gagged, and tormented by his bride. "It was heaven," he said. 

Tom courted a couple of girls, and then finally asked Irene Smith to marry him. She was blonde with a great figure. They had fun together - liked the same things, went the same places, laughed together, and twice he had tied her up and shown her the pleasures of love bondage. She had tied him up once, but only for a short time, and then released him. He felt she would learn. 

She didn't learn. It soon became clear to Tom that Irene didn't really like tie-up games all that much.  She would tie his wrists now and then, and maybe play with him a bit, but it was very unsatisfactory from his point of view. 

Tom confided in his brother. Tim thought it over. 
"Too bad," said Tim commiserating with his brother. "I seem to be tied up frequently, and you can't get anywhere with Irene. I'm sorry." Then Tim had a suggestion. "Maybe you could hypnotize her." 

"Hypnotize her?" 

"Sure. Soothe her to sleep, give her what they call a post-hypnotic suggestion - that she likes tying you up. Get a book - learn how it's done and try it.  You've got nothing to lose." 

Tom visited the library and found a book on hypnosis. Carefully he studied the techniques, learned how to get a subject to rest, relax and become receptive to suggestions. He learned repetition and reinforcement. Finally, he thought he was ready. 

Friday night, after dinner, he sat with Irene in the living room of their apartment. They were snuggling, kissing, watching a program on television. 

"I'd like to try something," he said to her. 

"What?" 

"You relax, and close your eyes and just listen." 

"Whatever," she said. 

Tom soothed her with words, talking about sleeping, resting, thinking of far away things, and going deeper into sleep. He asked her her name, and she answered.  He asked her simple questions, and she answered. He had her raise and lower her arms and she followed directions. He told her to sleep deeper and deeper. Her breathing was regular and shallow. 

Then Tom told Irene to keep her eyes closed, but picture him standing in front of her. Next he told her to picture him laying on the floor. Finally, he told her to picture him on the floor tied up with rope and gagged. 

"Can you see me laying there all bound and gagged?" he asked. 

"Yes," she said slowly. 

"You are very happy," he said. "You are happy to see me tied up. Smile to show how happy you are." 

Tom watched as Irene smiled a big smile. 

"You enjoy tying me up. You want to tie me up. You want to tie me up often. Please repeat that - I love tying you up." 

Irene repeated the phrase. Tom had her repeat it five times. 

The next phrase he had her repeat was , "The longer you are tied up the better." He followed that with "I don't like to untie you." and then "I love watching you when you are tied up." and "When you are tied up, I am in charge." 

Tom spent almost forty-five minutes having Irene repeat the phrases, visualizing him bound and gagged, enjoying the sight, loving the act of love bondage. 

Tom finished with a sort of quiz. 

"What do you want to do now?" 
"I want to tie you up," Irene said in a slow monotone. 

"Do you enjoy tying me up?" 
"Yes." 

"How long should I be tied up?" 

"The longer the better." 

"Do you want to untie me?" 

"I don't like to untie you." 

Tom decided that was enough. Slowly he used the techniques he had learned from the book to bring Irene out of the hypnotic state. "You will wake up and feel great," he said. "You will be awake and full of energy. You will want more than anything else in the world to tie me up. You will enjoy playing with me, tickling me, teasing me, making love to me while I am bound and gagged." 

Finally, Tom had Irene wake up. 

"Oh," she said. "Was I asleep?" 

"Yes," he said. "You've missed most of the news. It's almost seven now." 

They sat for a while watching some game show, and then Irene said, "Tom, why don't you go and get your rope and things and let me tie you up. You've always said you wanted me to do that more often. I feel like doing it now." 

Tom was extremely happy. As he went to the bedroom, she said, "And put on something minimal because I want to look at you and see you better." 

Tom stripped and slipped into a tiny thin red lycra thong that just barely held him. Then he returned carrying the bag with their rope, duct tape, gags, and binders. Irene went to work, tying his arms behind his back with the palms of his hands on the elbow of the opposite arm. She reinforced the rope with wraps of duct tape so his arms were clamped together and completely covered with the silver tape, his fingers immobile against the opposite arm. 

Next she had him lay on the floor and she tied his legs at the ankles, above and below his knees. She drew his heels up and fastened his legs to his arms making a strict hog-tie that somewhat bowed his body so that his chest and stomach and groin stood out. She reached into the bag and pulled out the red ball-gag and put it in his mouth, fastening it behind his head. He was in heaven. She took more duct tape and wrapped his entire lower face sealing the gag in place. It was the most she had ever done to tie him up, and he realized quickly that he was secure, and probably going to stay that way until she untied him. 

Then Irene sat down on the couch and looked at Tom. And there she stayed, starring blankly at him. He wondered what she was going to do, but she didn't do anything. She just sat there. He squirmed around on the floor, trying to get her attention. She sat, starring directly ahead, not moving, only barely breathing. He made what noise he could into the gag, but she didn't move a bit. He did everything he could think of, moved as much as he could, slithered over and tried to touch her legs, but nothing worked. Irene was like a statue, looking straight ahead, not moving. 

Time went by - hours. Midnight came and went. Tom had been tied up almost four hours with no release in sight. Two AM came and went, and then four AM. Panic set in. Sweat rolled down Tom's forehead. What had he done? She might sit there for days. He thought of getting to the phone and calling someone - but the phone was mounted on the wall, and he was hog-tied on the floor. Nobody in the apartment complex could hear him because of the gag and the fact that the building was unusually sound-proof. 

Five AM came and went, then six. At seven AM, Tom heard the morning alarm go of in the bedroom. The alarm went off daily seven days a week. He had been tied up for twelve hours! He ached, he struggled. He got nowhere. At the sound of the alarm Irene suddenly slowly stood. 

At last! thought Tom. But she looked straight ahead and slowly walked toward the bedroom. And then Tom heard her say softly, in a monotone, "The longer you are tied up the better. I love to tie you up. I hate to untie you. The longer you are tied up the better. When you are tied up, I am in charge." 

Then Irene went into the bedroom, and closed the door leaving Tom still bound and gagged on the living room floor, as frightened as he had ever been in his life and helpless to do anything except curse his brother. 
What Tom didn't see was Irene, just before she closed the bedroom door, look back and give a little wink. 

30-01-02 
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