All websites referenced in the story are imaginary URLs based on real websites.
Chapter 1 – The Beginning.
Life is hard. I’ll pour myself another glass of wine from the box and tell you how I got here. I’m Tricha Sarks. I was born in Newtok, Alaska. Never heard of it? The town is a zillion miles from civilization, so small that all the roads end at the edge of town; you need a plane, boat or snowmobile to get anywhere else. It’s nestled between the freezing cold tundra and the freezing Bering Sea. The long cold night of October through March was too much for me. I had to get away, so I took a wild chance. I recently moved to San Francisco without a job lined up, no friends outside of Alaska, and no local family. I’m good looking and an excellent dancer. I figured I would get a job as a model, or a dance instructor or something.
I had no idea how expensive the rent in San Francisco was! I got a few temp jobs, but the hours are short, and the pay is low. All of the modeling and dance places want experience, but you can’t get experience if nobody will hire you. It’s a vicious catch 22. I think the way others “broke in” to the business is to sleep with the guy making the hiring decisions and hoped he honored his word. I won’t delve to those depths. I have no plans to sleep with some guy for a job, or for any other reason for that matter. My tastes are more for the female persuasion, which is why I chose to move to San Francisco; I’m more likely to find a female partner and be more accepted than in Newtok, where men are manly men, and the sheep fled in terror. In Newtok, everyone knows everyone else, and I didn’t want the oilmen to know me that way.
It didn’t take long for me to fall far behind on my rent, and my credit card debt has been steadily climbing higher and higher. I talked to Gary, my landlord in the hopes that we could work out some kind of a delayed payment arrangement, or maybe he had contacts to help me get a job. He suggested that I call Dave, one of his friends who “may be looking for a model”. He mentioned that if I don’t like the job, I can always say no. I’m not sure what he means by that; it makes it sound like some models would say no and decline the job. However, if there was a chance for pay, I figured I should check it out As Gary said, I can always say “no”.
The next day, I called up Dave about the modeling position. We wound up talking for about two hours, sometimes small talk, but at times he meandered into asking quite private questions. He seemed particularly interested when I mentioned that I had pierced nipples. It turned out he lives in Cerro, a nearby suburb. He’s a paralegal, and runs a website, www.publicbondage.com. He’s looking for women to be tied up in public, and to take pictures of them. He volunteered there would be no sex, and minimal touching. He’s willing to pay over half a month’s rent for a few hour gig. Yeah, I figure he’ll want to see my nipple rings, but for that pay, I would be a fool to say “no”. I’ll give it a try!
I dressed for the shoot like Dave requested - an outfit that included jeans and heels. I added a button-down top and a light jacket for the chill and drove to his place. When I arrived, I found he lives in a classy looking townhouse with a brick front and large picture window in an upscale neighborhood. As I rang the bell, I pondered that he must be doing pretty well for himself. A nice looking woman in her late 20’s answered the door. I wondered if I had the right place, but she smiled, and I got the relieved feeling of knowing I was expected and welcome. “You must be Trisha! Come on in! I’m Linda. Consider me Dave’s girlfriend, assistant, and conscience.”
Dave turned out to be just an ordinary looking guy, I would never guess that he ties up women and sells photos for a living. He mentions the website is part hobby, part side-line job to bolster his paralegal pay. After small talk, a drink, and introducing me to his cats, he started in. He had me sign a release form, and asked “What name do you want to use?”
I stammered “Ummm... I don’t know.” I hadn’t given it any thought. I don’t know what kind of names women pick as bondage stage names! I had never done this sort of thing before!
He took the answer with grace. “OK.” He handed me an oversized sheet of paper. “Initial it, I’ll pick a name from your initials.” The sheet said in large letters “I’m looking forward to being bound in public. Name _______________ Signature: ________________
I initialed it “TS”. He wrote in a name and had me hold it up like a nameplate as he took some video. “Don’t worry – this is an intro and for liability, it’s not a mug shot.” I laughed. Dave had a disarming kind of humor. This was going to be a fun day. I then got to see what he wrote – “Titsy Slutskaya”. That’s not a name I can really ever be proud of. I shrugged. As good of a stage name as anything else, and I guess it’s only fitting that someone else picks my bondage name.
Dave explained that if at any time it got too much, I should sing or hum “Mary Had A Little Lamb”, and the shoot would stop. To encourage complete shoots, half of the payment is for completing the shoot, the rest pro-rated.
The first thing Dave asked me to do was put on a pink sweater he handed me. I saw red yarn was sewn into the front, spelling out “I ♥ BONDAGE” in large letters. I put it on, zipping it up.
I was then given a watch and a thick braided silver bracelet to put on. I put them on. So far, so good! Linda guided my hands down to my side, and slipped an electrical zip tie under the watch, around the side belt loop on my jeans, and pulled it shut, pinning my wrist to my waist. I smiled at the touch of another woman. I could tell she was taken and probably heterosexual, but I enjoyed the caring female touch. I’ve spent far to much time alone. Another electrical zip tie around the bracelet and belt loop on the other side took me out of my reverie and pinned my other arm. I lightly tugged my arms. They were secured to my hips until they decided otherwise.
Linda pulled out some clear tape, the sort that comes in the wide rolls and is used to seal boxes. After my mouth was closed, she taped it shut with a strip of tape. Just to make sure, she added two more strips in an X over the first.
It was time to earn my money – to go for a walk, bound in public like the website proclaimed. Dave videotaped my struggles to reach up high enough to open the door, and my apprehension at being wantonly bound as I walked around the streets of San Francisco.
I walked out into the bright sunshine, consciously trying to be casual and mix in as just another pedestrian.
I headed to Boyd Park, just a few blocks away. My mood was improving. It was a bright sunny day, and I was getting paid quite well!
I saw a middle aged guy walking down the sidewalk toward me. As I neared, my mind raced. Who was I kidding? My mouth was taped shut, and my very clothing proclaimed a love of bondage! I instinctively tried to cover up the sweater, but the zip ties held my wrists down by my waist. The guy read my sweater, and smiled as he passed. After a few steps, I turned to look at him. I caught his eye as he watched me walk away.
After I turned the corner, I realized I had no idea who that guy was, and he had no idea who I was. We were just strangers passing on the street, who would likely never see each other again. I didn’t really know anyone within a thousand miles of here. I was with Dave and beautiful Linda, so I was safe. I happily walked to follow their subtle directions along one of the paved walkways into the park.
I saw some group of college kids having a picnic, with music and a frizbee going. I heard a Dixie Chicks song wafting on the breeze. My hips starting swinging to the music, and soon the rest of my body joined in as I sashayed down the path. Most of the people that I passed seemed totally unaware that the lady they walked by was gagged, bound, and was proclaiming her love of bondage. One lady in her 40’s was walking by, and stopped in surprise as she noticed the shiny gag covering my mouth. I smiled as best as I could, hearing the tape crinkle. I danced all the more. I could see the sides of her mouth starting to peel into a smile until she noticed Dave’s camcorder. She quickly turned and strode away.
After a while, I noticed Dave and Linda were guiding me away from people. As they didn’t seem to have sinister intent, I walked on, happily walking in the sunshine. We came across a chain link fence separating the park from an old industrial area. Linda led me right up to the fence. I stood there, wondering what they had in mind. I asked her “Mmmff?”
She unzipped my sweater, and un-buttoned my blouse. My nostrils flared as my breath raced in and out. My mind was racing again. I thought she was heterosexual! She’s doing this in front of her boyfriend? It might lead to something fun, but this is so sudden! And why here? He said no sex!
Linda lifted up my bra, and started playing with a nipple. This was the first time that a woman touched my breast in that manner. I reveled in the feeling. I felt a tug. When I looked down, I saw she had threaded a tiny luggage lock through my nipple piercing. I let her do the same to the other breast, enjoying the fondling that preceded it. She turned me to face the chain-link fence, looped each open lock around a link of the fence, and snapped them shut. While it was just a barely audible “click”, the implications resonated in my head. I can’t leave! And my nipples are prominently displayed if someone comes by! She locked them a bit higher than they would normally sit, like a forced perkiness.
After about 15 seconds of more videotaping, Dave ran off. I looked at Linda, but she was leaning against the fence, casually looking behind me. She didn’t even meet my gaze. Touching my boobs, now not even eye contact. What is going on? I was frustrated that with my mouth taped, I couldn’t even whisper a question. No pantomiming or any other communication either. Damn!
Less than a minute later, Dave jogged up on the other side of the fence, camcorder at the ready. He did a whole body pan shot, lingering a lot longer than necessary on my perky nipples and gagged mouth.
I felt Linda messing with the back of my sweater, and heard a jingling bell. I tried to see what she was doing, but my nipples held me in place. With the tug on my nipples, Dave grinned like the Cheshire cat from behind the camera. Now I realized why Linda wasn’t looking at me. Not only was she hiding her face from the next camera angle, but she was watching to make sure nobody else was nearby. I felt re-assured that she was my safety net.
A minute later, Dave ran off again. Like Speedy Gonzales, Linda unlocked me from the fence, buttoned up my blouse, and zipped up the sweater before Dave returned. As I stepped away from the fence, I heard the bell jingle from my back. Linda attached a bell? Did she *want* everyone to stare at the bound lady? Linda smiled at my inquiring stare. With just the smile, I felt comforted. I would be OK.
The bell jingled as I walked back. As I reached the more populated areas of the park, people turned to look and the jingling sound. I boldly strode on, not caring if they noticed I was gagged and bound or not.
I smiled as sweetly as I could at passerby, enjoying the sunshine as I walked back to Dave’s place.
As soon as we got in, Linda released me, and Dave paid me in much-needed cash, even throwing in another $50 for being a good sport.
As I relaxed at home, sipping my wine, I happily considered my good fortune. Dave never even touched me, instead I got the touch of a woman. I was paid, so I could catch up a bit on bills. I was happy, if only for a while.
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09.10.08
story continues in Trisha – Finding My Way Chapter 2 – The Rain Date
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