The cool wind of a New England autumn blew the rain against the living room window of Suzanne's apartment. The muted drumming of Suzanne's fingers on the keyboard echoed the drumming of the rain on the glass. Her blue eyes darted from her fingers to the screen and back as she checked the words she was typing.
She stopped for a moment and reached for the teacup with its matching cover on the desk beside her. She had bought the covered style cup precisely for this situation: keeping the tea warm during extended periods of typing. She sipped, scrolled back a bit, and began to read.
Suzanne wore a royal blue sweatsuit that hung baggily on much of her body, though her trim waist, generous breasts, and womanly hips were evident enough. As she read, she crossed her legs and played idly with her dark hair, which she had banded into a ponytail that tended to fall over her left shoulder when she tilted her head that way. She wore white socks and walking shoes, and the foot she held in the air wagged rhythmically as though she were tapping her toe to music, a characteristic nervous habit while proofreading. Though she appeared to be frowning slightly as she read, she nodded a couple times, stopping only to correct a misspelling. She picked up the teacup and sipped again, this time making a face at the now cool tea.
"Got to have some hot stuff," she said aloud to herself.
Rising from the computer desk, she padded awkwardly across the living room (she was stiff from sitting for nearly two hours) and into the kitchen. The glass kettle with its whistler-type top was quickly refilled and back on the stove. Suzanne got another bag from the metal tea canister and had just dropped it in her cup when the doorbell rang.
She peered through the peephole to see her friend Pam in the hallway outside. Suzanne unlocked the door and threw it open.
"Come on in out of the storm," she called gaily.
Pam hurried in, brushing raindrops out of her sandy hair and off the shoulders of her jacket as she did. Her brown eyes grew wide as Suzanne closed the door.
"Geez, it's almost as cold in here as it is outside!" Pam groaned.
She looked across the room and pointed.
"No wonder. You left the window open."
"Only a crack," said Suzanne, holding out a hand to take Pam's jacket. "Don't be such a baby! You know I work better with a little fresh air to keep me awake."
Pam wrapped her jacket tightly around her.
"Not until you close it," she demanded.
Suzanne raised an eyebrow.
"If you try to smoke, I'll open it again," she warned.
Pam made a face.
"A rock or a hard place! Okay, no smoking. Now shut the damn window!"
Suzanne laughed as she closed the window the last inch. Pam tossed her jacket onto a chair, revealing a tanned and fit, well-proportioned body. Despite her complaint of the cold, she wore only a form hugging short sleeve top, shorts, and sneakers.
"Come on in and have some tea to ward off the cold," said Suzanne.
"What are we drinking today?"
"Earl Grey," replied Suzanne, leading her into the kitchen and taking another cup from the shelf. "And you wouldn't need so much warming up if you didn't wear shorts in this weather."
Pam looked down at her shapely bare legs, ankle socks, and running shoes.
"I'm an actress, dear. Got to show that the legs are still good."
Suzanne dropped a teabag into Pam's mug and began pouring hot water.
"Not to me, you don't."
They sat at the kitchen table and took up their cups.
"Ever since you turned thirty you're no fun anymore," scolded Pam.
Suzanne wrinkled her brow, mimicking deep thought.
"I seem to remember we graduated college in the same class. Nine years ago, wasn't it?"
"My resume says I'm twenty-six," Pam sniffed primly. "I intend to think young."
Suzanne laughed and shook her head.
"My grandmother told me I'd get a pimple on my tongue if I told lies."
Pam ignored her.
"Who's writing a book today?" she asked. It was a reference to Suzanne's three current pen names: one for contemporary romances, one for Gothic period pieces, and one for mysteries.
"I'm Dianne Taylor today."
"Oh, goody! A whodunit!"
Suzanne regarded her friend significantly.
"I'm just getting to our favorite part. My plucky heroine has traced some stolen goods to a low-life couple, and she's going to try to pump them for information.
Pam raised an eyebrow.
"And does she get captured by them?"
"I think you know the answer to that one," Suzanne answered coyly. "The old 'Mickey-Finn-in-the-drink' routine."
"One of our favorite scenes," Pam said with a smile.
"I just found this perfect spot for it in my writing. With Greg being out of town 'til Friday, I guess that today I'm just a little bit …."
"Horny?" Pam finished. "I suppose you know that Rob's out of town too."
Suzanne tried to feign surprise.
"He is? Well, our rule is that if we play a little game, either both of the boys play or we play alone."
Pam eyed her friend.
"We played games long before the boys, so it's only fair that we can play them now."
Suzanne took a drink of tea, then smiled at Pam.
"And we're so lucky that you went to Hollywood and got so much technical expertise."
Pam frowned theatrically.
"My career in movies was less than I had hoped for."
"One awful sci-fi movie, one slasher movie, a dumb sex comedy, and several dozen bondage videos," Suzanne said wistfully.
"I made only nine videos," Pam said primly.
"You made sixteen, but who's counting?" teased Suzanne.
"Remember, getting the heroine captured is your favorite part of mystery writing, Dame Agatha," protested Pam.
"Takes me back to the good old days," Suzanne said nostalgically.
"Flip for it?" offered Pam. "I'm the visiting team, so I call."
She produced a quarter and handed it to Suzanne, who flipped it and held it covered on the back of her hand while Pam thought.
"Heads."
It was tails. Pam stuck out her bottom lip.
"I never get captured anymore."
"But as the professional actress, it's only fitting that you get the more demanding part."
"Villains usually are the best roles," Pam admitted.
They took their teacups and headed back into the living room. They sat on the couch, placing their cups on the coffee table.
"We're doing the adult version here, aren't we?" asked Pam.
Suzanne grinned as she loosened her hair from the ponytail.
"Do your worst."
Pam smiled back.
"I think I've got a twist for the ending."
They began the scene, chatting amiably for a time. Pam confided that she and her boyfriend were about to come into a good deal of money. Suzanne congratulated her and tried to unobtrusively press for details. Suddenly, she frowned and put a hand to her forehead.
"Anything wrong?" asked Pam with a little smile.
Suzanne looked puzzled and somewhat dazed.
"I don't know. I feel a little funny."
"You may be having a rush from all that tea. It's got a lot of caffeine, you know."
Suzanne's head drooped to one side.
"I dunno… Feel sleepy," she mumbled.
Pam regarded her with quiet triumph.
"You should, dearie. I put enough knockout drops in there to put out three men."
Suzanne looked up in alarm. Her eyelids could stay only half open.
Pam chuckled evilly.
"You think I couldn't spot you a mile away? You're too clumsy to be a cop, even a new one. You private?"
Suzanne tried to speak but could make no sound. Pam picked up a purse nearby and began to go through it.
"No ID, huh? Don't tell me you're some kind of amateur sleuth, some friend of the family playing private eye."
Suzanne struggled to her feet and took a few staggering steps toward the door, but Pam was too quick. She grabbed Suzanne's right wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. Her left hand went over the woman's mouth. Suzanne clawed at it feebly.
"Come on, sweetie," Pam grunted as she dragged Suzanne back toward the bedroom. "Let's take care of you."
She walked the weakly resisting woman into the bedroom and pulled her down on the unmade bed, still holding her. Within a few seconds Suzanne had stopped struggling. Pam released her.
"Well, little snooper," she whispered. "Let's get those clothes off you and see if you're wearing a wire. Or falsies."
Suzanne kicked Pam gently.
"You're unconscious now," Pam scolded as she went to the closet and brought out a bulging airline carrybag. "Play right."
She sat beside Suzanne again and took hold of the bottom of her sweatshirt.
"First, we have to strip you!" she said with quiet glee.
She pulled the sweatshirt up over Suzanne's head and down her arms, then tossed the garment to the floor. Suzanne's bra was unhooked and discarded as well.
"Hmm. Genuine female flesh," noted Pam as she took a piece of rope from the bag and doubled it. "Real popular with the boys, I'll bet. But let's take care of those little hands."
Pam pulled Suzanne's hands behind her back and tied her wrists together palm to palm. The rope was long enough to circle her wrists several times and make a seize between them before being tied off.
"Gotcha!" Pam said triumphantly. "But I'd better take care of that mouth. Don't want you to wake up and start yelling."
A short search through the bag produced a bright red ballgag on a leather strap. She forced the ball into Suzanne's unresisting mouth, noting how well it fit, then buckled it behind her head.
"That ought to keep things quiet on the Western Front," she noted. "But we'll come back to it later."
She rapidly removed Suzanne's shoes and socks, then pulled her sweatpants off. Leaving her prisoner's panties on, she tied her legs at the ankles and knees.
"Don't want you running off to the police. You're going to stay here for a while."
She ran a hand up Suzanne's shapely leg, over her belly, and up to her breasts. Her fingers played over a nipple as she continued softly and dreamily:
"Yeah. I want you here for quite a while."
She sat Suzanne up and circled her body and arms several times with a long rope, the loops passing just under her captive's breasts. A couple loops above the breasts followed, the knots being placed behind Suzanne's back, leaving a few feet of rope free. Pam ran this end under the lower loops, between Suzanne's arm and side, up over her shoulder, behind her neck, down over the other shoulder, under the loops on the other side, and back behind her to be secured in the middle of her back.
Another rope went around Suzanne's waist, down through her satin panty-covered crotch to the back of the waist loops, back through the crotch again, and up to the lower chest loops. When this line was tied off, the loops around the woman's body were pulled downward, by this anchor line, and upward, by the under arm lines, at the same time. There was no way they could be slipped off in either direction.
Pam laid her inert prisoner back on the bed and rummaged in the rope bag again. She pulled out a roll of wide silver duct tape, and tore several pieces from the roll. Carefully pushing back Suzanne's hair, she sealed the ballgag in her mouth. With her captive now completely trussed, she moved the bag to the nightstand and regarded Suzanne with satisfaction.
"That ought to be a nice surprise for you when you wake up," she said.
Pam pulled up a chair from the vanity and sat down to watch. She did not have long to wait.
Suzanne groaned softly into the gag and began to stir. Her fingers fluttered a little, her shoulders rolled slightly, and her legs tried to separate themselves. When nothing worked, Suzanne groaned again, her brows furrowed over her still closed eyes with the effort of trying to move. With a sudden, stifled yelp, her eyes popped wide open. She looked down at her own body, at the lines of cord on her almost completely naked form. A gagged cry of alarm was followed by frantic struggling.
Pam laughed as Suzanne gave her a wide-eyed look.
"Good morning, dearie," mocked Pam. "Have a nice rest?"
Suzanne let loose with a torrent of unintelligible demands.
"Of course, of course," Pam said sweetly. "All in good time."
Suzanne writhed in her bonds and continued her tirade. Pam merely smiled at her.
"You've been watching too many TV detective shows, honey, if you think some amateur could put one over on me."
Suzanne stopped struggling. Her eyes narrowed in anger and frustration as she waited for Pam to continue.
"Well, this sometimes happens on TV too, doesn't it? You know, where the lovely heroine gets captured by the bad guys and has to be rescued by the hero? How do you like it?"
Suzanne snorted.
"Of course, they can't show this part on TV, the heroine nearly naked and all tied up."
She pointed to the wall mirror.
"How do you like the way you look?"
Suzanne turned to the large mirror on the wall. She could see herself stretched atop the disordered sheets and blankets. Aside from her brief panties, there was little covering her shapely form besides ropes.
She squealed in alarm. A fresh bout of struggling began.
Pam laughed again.
"That's no way to behave. I think you look real cute."
Another angry snort was Suzanne's reply.
Pam's smile faded to a thin slit.
"And I'll bet my boyfriend will think so too."
Suzanne froze. Her eyes were wide again as she looked up at Pam, who sidled over and sat on the edge of the bed. Pam ran a hand up Suzanne's leg, over her hip, and up to her shoulder. She pushed the shoulder to the bed, forcing her prisoner flat on her back. Her other hand strayed to Suzanne's breasts and belly. Pam's voice came softly.
"Yeah… He'd really like to see you this way."
Suzanne's eyes grew even wider. She shook her head frantically.
Pam laughed and stood up.
"Don't worry about that though, honey," she said breezily. "I'm not going to let him near a sweet thing like you."
Suzanne relaxed and mewed softly into the ball and tape gag.
Pam smiled and leaned over so that her face was close to Suzanne's. Her voice was again soft, almost purring.
"'Cause, baby, I want you all to myself."
Suzanne's eyes widened in disbelief.
Pam reached down cross-handed and pulled her top over her head. Her bra looked very inadequate for her good-sized breasts. She quickly shed the bra also.
"Oh, yeah," she purred. "I'm serious."
She slipped off her shoes, socks and shorts, leaving only her tiny, French-cut panties. Reaching into the rope bag, she took one more short cord and a scarf before climbing onto the bed behind her prisoner in relation to the mirror.
Suzanne watched her in alarm. Pam pointed to the mirror.
"Have a look, for a while anyway. It'll be interesting."
Suzanne looked into the mirror. A smiling Pam was looking back. She began stroking the bound woman's body.
"You'll really have something to tell the folks back in Frostbite Falls, or wherever it is you're from: being held prisoner, naked, bound, and gagged by a sex-crazed bisexual thief. You'll be the hit of every ice cream social and spaghetti supper in town.'
She took the short piece of rope and ran it through the loops around Suzanne's ankles. When she pulled on it, Suzanne's legs were forced to bend, bringing her feet closer to her bound hands.
Pam bent over and breathed into Suzanne's face:
"And hogtied at that."
She tied the ends of the line to Suzanne's wrist bonds. Experimentally, Suzanne tried to straighten her legs to no avail. She looked into the mirror. When she saw what Pam had done, she groaned.
"I don't want you to kick me."
Pam leaned over and began kissing Suzanne. The kisses, slow and rather light, moved from her cheeks and ears to her neck. The prisoner mewed in protest but, as Pam moved down her neck to her shoulders, and over her collarbones to her beautiful breasts, the mews turned to hums of pleasure.
"See? I knew you'd like it."
Pam continued to play with Suzanne's breasts. Her nipples, one under Pam's tongue, the other under her saliva-moistened fingers, became hard. She arched her back and tried to move toward her 'tormentor.'
"Isn't that better?" cooed Pam. "Just think about telling about this on all the interviews and talk shows you'll be on. It'll keep the guys at Hard News hard for a long time."
Suzanne began to giggle. Pam gave her a gentle slap on the behind. Suzanne grunted softly.
"Sorry, but you've got to stay in character," Pam said.
She wiped her hand across her face, as though wiping away her previous expression, signifying a return to her own role.
After a little more play with Suzanne's body, Pam picked up the scarf she had laid on the bed beside her.
"This'll make things even better," she whispered.
She bound the scarf around Suzanne's head over her eyes. The bound woman moaned as Pam returned to her kissing and fondling. She stroked Suzanne's sides and tummy, grabbed her breasts firmly, then kneaded them tenderly. She pulled Suzanne's panties down her buttocks and caressed them gently. Then she straightened up and slid off the bed. Going to the bag, she found some strips and pieces of flour sack dishtowels. She wadded one piece into a ball, then rolled it into the middle of a long strip.
Suzanne hummed questioningly.
"I'm going to change your gag, sweetie. It won't take a minute."
She climbed back on the bed and slowly and carefully peeled the tape from the ballgag. She loosened the buckle and popped the ball from Suzanne's mouth. Before the captive could speak, Pam pressed her lips greedily over Suzanne's. The bound woman mewed in surprise. Pam finally broke the kiss, but clapped a hand over Suzanne's mouth.
"This'll be more fun."
She took her hand away and pressed the wad of cloth to Suzanne's lips. Suzanne quickly opened her mouth and took it eagerly, then returned to character and pretended to fight and protest as Pam tied the ends of the strip behind her head.
"That'll keep you quiet, but kissable."
Suzanne mewed in mock alarm as Pam pressed her lips to Suzanne's around the gag wad. Pam continued to kiss, letting one hand roam downward to Suzanne's breasts. Suzanne's moans of arousal grew louder, then louder still when Pam switched her mouth to her nipples and her hand to the area of the cord through her crotch. She arched and pleaded with Pam to finish.
Pam stopped abruptly.
"No. No orgasm yet. First comes the twist."
Suzanne fell back, limp with weariness. She could no longer stay in the character of the helpless heroine. All she wanted was relief. But Pam, after taking her bound knees and rotating her on the bed so that her head was probably now pointed at the mirror, was silent. Suzanne could tell that Pam was sitting on the edge of the bed not far from her, and she could hear Pam preparing more ropes. Suzanne wondered how much more thoroughly she could be bound.
Finally, she felt Pam's hands reach behind her head and loosen the blindfold tie. When it was removed, after blinking for a few moments, Suzanne saw her friend had bound her own ankles and knees, made a waist and crotch tie for herself, and prepared several other ropes. Pam was smiling at her.
"My boyfriend is double crossing me," she said. He's tying me up and leaving me here with you for the police to find."
Suzanne's eye twinkled.
Pam made a wad and strip gag like Suzanne's, put it in her mouth, and tied the ends securely at the back of her neck. She carefully picked up a thickly wound set of ropes and slipped them over her shoulders, pulling them down below her breasts. She slipped her left arm in easily, then her right arm slowly and with effort as the loops tightened. When she had both arms in, Pam took a short piece of rope and connected her waistband ropes with the chest band so that it could not be slipped up over her shoulders again.
She showed Suzanne a small loop of cords made of a piece of rope several feet long wound many times into a wide band. Pam slipped her left hand into it, then her right part way through to show what it was for, then held up her index finger to indicate 'not yet.' She lifted her bound feet up to the bed and tucked them beside her. Suzanne noticed a loop of some kind trailing from Pam's ankle bonds. As Pam straightened it, Suzanne saw that it was actually a short strand with a loop at the end. Pam doubled the loop, reducing it to half its original size, then slipped it over her wrist tie loops so that it would act as a seize when she put her other hand in the loop on the other side. Pam passed this around behind her back and worked her right hand into the loop. She was thus able to hogtie herself, though it was not exactly escape-proof.
Pam scooted her bound legs down opposite Suzanne's and inched closer to the bound brunette. She wagged her head toward the mirror, directing Suzanne to look. Suzanne craned her neck to see the upturned faces of two hogtied, gagged and nearly naked women face to face on the bed. She inched her way toward Pam, and Pam struggled toward her. Their breasts touched, then their knees. Soon they were body to body, arching and straining together. Suzanne pressed her gagged mouth over Pam's. Both women pushed forward, trying to get some pull on their crotchropes.
The drumming of the rain on the window continued.
* * * * *
Pam, dressed once again, sprawled on Suzanne's sofa, one leg draped over the armrest at the end, as she smoked and gazed dreamily at the drops streaking down the window onto the gray afternoon. Suzanne's voice came from the kitchen.
"Soup's done. Be there in a minute."
Pam did not reply, playing with a strand of her hair as she watched the rain.
Suzanne, her jogging suit restored, bustled in carrying a tray containing sandwiches of lunch meat on bagels, a cup of soup for each of them, and two diet sodas. She set the tray on the coffee table. Pam barely stirred.
"Anything wrong?" asked Suzanne.
"I just don't see how you can be so energetic after all that," replied Pam. "I'm wiped."
Suzanne coughed theatrically, waved away some smoke, then went to the window and put out a hand as if to open it. Pam smiled and crushed out her cigarette. She reached for the steaming soup.
Suzanne sat beside her and eagerly bit into one of the sandwiches.
"I was wiped for a little while," she said. "But now I'm inspired and ready to write."
She stroked the inside of Pam's thigh with her free hand.
"It's too bad I can't use most of that scene we just did for my book. My editor would have a stroke."
Pam sipped her soup.
"It'd take three days to get the smile off his face," she said dryly.
Suzanne laughed.
"That idea about the double-cross is good, though," Suzanne continued. "I think I'll use that, but I'll have to let them keep most of their clothes."
"Who's going to write the next book? I hope it'll be the one with the French name who does the Gothics and historicals. You get away with a lot of stuff in those."
"You liked that last one, didn't you? The one about the poor little governess who became the lady of the manor overnight and found danger and romance."
Suzanne batted her eyelashes like a silent movie ingénue.
Pam laughed. She leaned forward.
"I've got some great ideas for your next one."
"You don't even know what it's about."
Pam leaned back and eyed her sandwich thoughtfully.
"Well, we have plenty of time to go over it, since the guys won't be back for three days, and it's supposed to keep on raining…"
The End
Copyright © 2000, 2009 by Frank Knebel