When secret agent Laura Baker woke up she tried to lift her head but immediately thought better of it when it started spinning. She also felt very uncomfortable. As she gradually came around she realized the reason for her feeling of discomfort was that she was tied up, and one of the major sources of discomfort was the presence of what felt like a rubber ball stuck in her mouth, apparently held there by a strap which she could feel on her cheeks and going around the back of her head.
"Where the hell am I?" she thought. She tried to push out the ball with her tongue to shout, but immediately changed her mind. "Better find out what I've gotten myself into before attracting any attention." she thought.
As her vision focused and she managed to look around her, she saw she was lying on a mattress and that her legs were securely tied with ropes at the knees and ankles. As for her arms, she could feel that they were tied securely behind her back at the elbows and wrists. There was also a rope going from her wrists, coming up under her crotch and tied to her waist at her front, so that the damn thing was digging into her every time she moved her arms away from her body trying to find a way to loosen the ropes holding her wrists together.
She saw that she'd been stripped of her dress and slip, and was wearing only her bra, garter belt and stockings, and the 5" stiletto heel shoes with ankle straps all of which she'd purchased for the special assignment she had been going on. The "cute underwear", as she called it, had been her own idea, a sudden fancy since the assignment wasn't supposed to include undressing, at least not in this fashion: trussed up like a turkey- all ready for Thanksgiving.
After the assignment, she had been hoping to finish off the evening with a romantic date with a fellow agent called Michael Marsh. He had immediately shown interest in her since she'd joined the Los Angeles office and she had also found herself attracted to him right from the start. But due to the work and assignments, she'd just been waiting in vain in the hope of being asked out for a date and nothing had happened up to now. So when she found out he would be on this assignment too, she had impulsively volunteered to be on it.
The assignment was to have a female agent pose as a decoy in one of the bars where there had been suspected exchanges of secret information over the last months. The man they suspected had always been seen with young and beautiful brunettes, all with similar features - features resembling her own, so it had seemed only natural that she volunteer as the decoy, to see if the spy would show interest in her, hopefully helping her to gain more information about his contacts.
Of course, every precaution was supposed to have been taken to ensure her safety: a male agent would always be close by and two more stationed a bit further. In this case of course there was Michael Marsh, and the other agents were Jim Long and Carla Smith. These two seemed to get along very well and always asked to be on assignments together. To her delight, the agent who was to be close by and watch over the decoy was Michael Marsh, so of course she'd volunteered without even thinking of the danger.
"So much for all those fancy theories", she thought. "Now the harsh reality is that I'm lying here tied up and helpless, at the mercy of some crazed kidnapper who'll most probably rape and murder me!."
From the aches in her jaw and limbs, she knew she must have been tied up for a while. She started to struggle and move her legs and arms together some more, trying to restore some semblance of circulation in her aching limbs. Her jaw, on the other hand, she couldn't do much about. It was constantly held open wide by the rubber ball, which she had tried unsuccessfully to push out with her tongue. She'd been drooling profusely when she woke up, but had managed to regain some control over her saliva and wiped her chin on the sheet. Controlling her saliva alone was a full time job due to the ballgag.
Laura nevertheless kept struggling against her bonds to keep her circulation going and hopefully find some slack in those damned ropes. However, the only thing this struggling was accomplishing at the moment was to induce a not-so-unpleasant sensation from the rubbing of the rough crotch rope against what she called her pleasure spot, on which it was rubbing every time she moved to alleviate her discomfort.
She realized also that whoever had tied her up had made sure this part of her bondage wouldn't be ignored. In fact, she noticed that every part of her body was feeling tingly, but most of all her nipples and clitoris area were feeling extremely sensitive, just like the got she was making love.
"Oh damn it, I can't be getting aroused now", she thought, "not while I'm helplessly tied up and without the benefit of a man to do something about relieving this feeling that's coming on!!"
She tried to roll around a bit and move her arms and legs a bit to alleviate the discomfort of the strict bondage and it helped a bit. But she also realized through her struggling that whoever had tied her up had meant business, she couldn't feel any give or slack in the ropes, and realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she wouldn't be getting loose on her own very soon.
She stopped struggling again because the crotch rope was definitely starting something she didn't want to start, especially not in this predicament where she couldn't do anything to continue the process of stimulating herself with her own hands.
Now if there could have been the strong yet gentle hands of a man such as Michael Marsh to massage her 'love spots', as she called them, that would have been another story... This however was definitely not what she had planned for that evening.
She sighed through her gag. Now the sexy underwear she'd worn in the hope to excite Michael was only making her feel like one of those sex objects she'd heard about. The flimsy bra which barely covered her voluptuous breasts was barely keeping them from escaping their skimpy cups. They were sticking out more due to her arms being pulled back so tightly behind her back. And the sexy garter belt and sheer black stockings now would only serve to stimulate her attacker instead of the man she'd hoped to wind up in bed with.
"The bastard must have had a good time while taking my clothes off" she thought, though she didn't feel anything to indicate he'd already raped her, and why she didn't know….
She was still wearing those scant, transparent panties she'd chosen for what should have been a very special occasion, and which didn't do much to hide her intimate parts. They were now soaking, she was very wet down there and the very thin material wasn't doing much to protect her pussy from the roughness of the rope, which kept digging into her at the slightest movement.
Her see through bra wasn't doing much better either. That was another thing she'd chosen especially for Michael. It naughtily revealed and uplifted her young and firm breasts - not that they needed much uplifting in the first place, but she'd found it would create that enhancing effect which most women would die for.
"Now", she thought, "these CLOTHES might be what I'll die for if they prove to be too enticing". Her struggling was making her breasts spill out of the bra, but there wasn't much she could do about it for now.
Laura had been blessed with a thin waist and relatively ample breasts, and knew she had a figure which could drive men crazy if she wore the right clothes, so she normally tried to wear clothes which didn't encourage unwanted male attention.
This assignment however had provided a good excuse to make herself as desirable as possible for the handsome secret agent she had her eye on. The garter belt and stockings had been a last minute touch which she knew would make her irresistible. Now she was helplessly tied up in her most revealing and enticing lingerie and couldn't do anything about it.
She struggled harder, twisting and rolling around to study her surroundings. Sitting up seemed out of the question - that crotch rope was already making its presence felt more and more. It was starting to 'bug' her even when she wasn't moving, so she figured she might as well endure the feelings it was creating while trying to think of some way to free herself.
She saw that the bedroom didn't have windows. The bed she was lying on was one of those old brass types with corner posts and lots of fancy metal work at the head and foot. There was a commode with a mirror on the far wall. She made a mental note that if she could break it she might be able to try to slice through her ropes, but then she put the idea aside when she realized she'd have to hop over to it without loosing her balance and falling flat on her face without any hope of protecting herself since her arms were bound securely behind her back. And even if she made it she would probably be unable to reach and break it, as the commode didn't look like it could be made to topple easily either.
The only other furniture was a chair in a corner. There was no sign of her dress but her purse - which had contained her gun - was lying over in the far corner, the contents spilled around it on the floor. She couldn't see any sign of the gun. There just didn't seem to be anything she could use to free herself, except maybe the small penknife that was on her key chain.
"Now that's an idea", she thought - "get the penknife". She couldn't see her key chain and keys, but they could still be inside the purse. The only way to know would be to let herself down on the floor and wriggle over.
By the time she'd inventoried all the angles of the room, the twisting and rolling on the bed had taken its toll. She felt herself come and knew she wouldn't be able to stop it. The crotch rope was stuck in her crack and all she could do was continue to struggle and try to bring herself to a proper climax with only the help of the rope's limited movement against her now throbbing clitoris, which she was now desperately trying to stimulate through the restrained rubbing of the rope while moving her bound arms.
Being tied up and helpless was somehow creating an additional if unexpected stimuli, and the added sensation only seemed to enhance her climax even more. She came so strongly and so long that she almost passed out. She could hear a loud garbled moan and realized the sound was coming from her own gagged mouth. When it passed, she tried to move a bit to relieve the strain created by her bonds while she had been struggling, but that only made her become more aroused and climax again even harder. This time, the sound she heard was her own muffled scream, as she felt herself faint into blessed oblivion.
When she came around again, she just lay there whimpering, afraid to move again, while trying to catch her breath through the ballgag, but within a few moments she had to change her position again and the whole damn process repeated itself.
She came again even harder this time, so hard that this time she really passed out! She felt as if her body had a mind of its own, her screams were becoming more primitive, and she had no more control over her uncontrollable arousal.
When she slowly regained consciousness, she had no idea how long she'd lain there, but knew that she desperately had to do something to get out of this predicament before she went out of her mind!
She finally managed to find a position so as to relieve a bit of the pressure from the crotch rope by arching her back, but that proved to be an even more uncomfortable position.
She felt weak and sweaty, but was basking in that warm afterglow which followed her climaxes, and which she always enjoyed just as much. The only difference now was that she was bound and helpless on a strange bed, wearing nothing but her most revealing and enticing underwear, and waiting for her captor to come and rape her.
To change her mind about such dark thoughts and to pass the time, she tried to remember how she'd gotten into this predicament.
"Let's see", she said to herself. "I remember I was sitting in the bar, then I went to the ladies room". She'd felt a bit funny and automatically headed for the ladies room in case she would be sick. Then she remembered feeling dizzy and having to sit down. Agent Carla Loren, the other female agent on the assignment, had spotted her going over to the back of the bar and followed her. The last thing she remembered was agent Lara trying to help her from falling down. Then nothing until waking up in this situation.
"That's strange", she thought "where's agent Lara? And why didn't she do anything to keep me from being kidnapped? Maybe she's been kidnapped too. Oh God, I hope agents Long or Marsh can rescue us soon".
Actually, she would prefer it to be Michael Marsh. She started to fantasize about Michael coming into the room to rescue her, and how irresistible and helpless she would look, and maybe he would take advantage of her and maybe she wouldn't mind at all if he was gentle!
This only managed to get her going again. The orgasms came on just as strong, and she came again three more times before dozing off to sleep, exhausted. The last thing she thought of as she fell asleep was that she could not recall any other time when she had come so many times in a row, nor so hard for that matter. This predicament she was stuck in was, for the moment at least not all that unpleasant, and if only her captors didn't mistreat her, she might even learn to enjoy some parts of it.
To Be Continued