Day One

“Cross your wrists behind your back and open your mouth.”

Julie obeyed the command instantly, cradling her wrists one atop the other in the small of her back. She strained to hold her mouth open as wide as possible. She waited for him to fill it with a wad of cloth, a rubber ball, his cock, or whatever else he might choose to pack in. She drifted off, recalling the salty taste of his cock, her tongue swirling to greet its head as it forced its way in.

“I am going to bind your wrists behind you with this.” 

His voice snapped her back to the moment. He was holding a coil of coarse rope to her face, presenting that which would soon make her his captive.

He traced her lower lip with a loop of the rope. Her scent was still heavy on the braids from its last use.

“You have until the rope is completely tied and knotted around your wrists to stop this. Once the rope is knotted and I have finished tying your wrists, nothing you say or do will stop this.”

Julie listened intently as his voice announced her sentence. 

“Do you understand?”

Julie nodded once.

He stepped behind her and, folding the rope in half, passed it through itself, closing the loop around her wrists. He wound the rope around her wrists again and again, tightening it with each loop.  She felt the rope being twisted and tugged, the beginning of the last knot, her last chance at freedom. She stood naked, mouth open and waiting, thinking of what may lie ahead for her, helpless, at his mercy for day after day, being tortured and used.

Suddenly, it was done. The knot was finished. Her wrists were tied. She had drifted off again, missing her last chance to say ‘No.’ She was his captive now.

Using another length of rope, he began binding her ankles, looping the rope as before to neatly lasso her feet. Within moments, her ankles were trapped in coils of the coarse rope, cinched and knotted tight.

From a workbench in the garage he gathered a length of crisp white bed sheet torn into a long, wide strip. Julie watched, her mouth still open wide, as he rolled one end of the cloth into a tight ball, leaving the rest to flutter from his hand as a streamer. Grasping her head with one hand, he began packing the wad deep into her mouth. With the wad seated in, he stuffed the tail into place with his fingers, carefully working it into every empty space. Julie teetered in his grasp, struggling to remain balanced against the pushing and shoving of the big gag into her straining mouth. He worked for several minutes, packing a fold of bed sheet here and there, until the densely wadded cloth was so crammed into her mouth that she could not close her jaw the slightest bit. 

With her mouth fully packed, he pulled a strip of duct tape from a roll and pressed it across her mouth, sealing the wad in place. The tape creaked and popped loudly in her ears as he stretched off more from the roll, winding yard after yard of the gray tape around her head. The tape pulled at her flesh, trapping stray locks of her brown curls beneath its sticky coils.

Finished, he smoothed the wrinkles and creases of the tape against her face. Gone were her lush, full red lips, masked now by wide bands of thick, gray tape, smoothed over a fat bulge where her bright smile had been.

He studied the shapely brunette, naked and helpless in his garage, slowly circling her, admiring the curves he would soon resculpt with rope. Loosely curled tresses fell past her face, slowly finding their way free of the makeshift ponytail she had hurriedly bundled them into, preparing for her plight. Her cheeks bulged over the tape. Her big brown eyes pleaded with him, telling of her discomfort. Her large, full breasts heaved with her labored breaths.  Her tapered waist gently curved into her smooth hips and round ass, waiting to be whipped. A narrow triangle of closely trimmed hair pointed the way between her legs, where thick droplets of warm, clear liquid trickled down her thighs, betraying her excitement.

She was his. She could neither scream nor flee nor fend off his advances, even if she desired to. Her mouth was gagged. Her hands and feet were tied. He needed to do nothing more, yet he gathered up more rope and set to work. Need and want were quite different things.

With a fresh length of rope he began weaving a harness across her chest, crisscrossing above, below, and beside her ample breasts, leaving them to spill through the brassier like arrangement. It was a foundation, she knew, for what was to come. She watched with trepidation as he looped the rope around one breast and drew it closed, trapping her tender flesh within the unforgiving cords. Her breast was instantly transformed into a swollen globe of pain, capped by an engorged nipple, standing erect, waiting to be hurt. He continued, winding more strands around her flesh, coiling the rope tight around her breast like a constrictor trapping its prey. Finished with one, he turned his attention to her other breast. Soon they were paired.

To her breasts he added more rope, lassoing each globe again before dragging the rope across her shoulders and down to her wrists. With a single motion, he drew the rope tight, pulling her wrists up high behind her back until they sat crossed between her shoulders.  With the ropes knotted and tied off, pain washed over Julie as her wrists settled into this unnatural position, held in place by the loops slowly closing tighter still around her swollen breasts.

More rope followed, first around her waist, then between her legs. His hands traced along her pubis, following the neat patch of brown curls down to delicate folds of flesh tucked between her thighs. His fingers parted her moist lips, spreading them wide. Juices oozed from her flesh, greeting the rope with fat thick drops as it divided her. He drew the rope up higher, along the smooth crevice dividing her round ass, up the small of her back to her bound wrists. He drew it tight, pulling the rope deep between her legs. Julie’s hands were now completely immobile, folded and pinned in the center of her back by ropes sunk painfully deep into her breasts and pussy. She could not twist or squirm without being quickly reminded of the penalty for her struggles.

He added a few more bonds, looping ropes around her arms, shoulders, and thighs, cinching each bundle tight before stepping back again to admire his handiwork. Julie could feel his gaze upon her, his eyes carving up her body into little pieces to use and hurt. Trapped naked in his ropes, she knew that she was no longer Julie, the college graduate, the human resources manager, the free and thinking woman with rights and choices and goals. She was now a toy, a plaything, her bare flesh to be reshaped by his ropes into whatever form he desired.  She was his. He could do anything to her. She could do nothing.

Reaching around her, he cupped her breasts in his hands.  Once soft and tanned, her breasts were now swollen hard and red. He closed his grip around them, squeezing them, twisting them to wild angles, digging his nails into her flesh. Pain shot through her as he tortured the swollen globes that once taunted so many men from within her shirt. She twisted and struggled, writhing in his grasp, the ropes tightening with her every move. The heavy smell of adhesive filled her nostrils as she drew whistling gasps for breath. Her muffled screams became rhythmic moans, matched with every twist of her breasts. He began kneading her breasts, almost rhythmically, playing her moans and gasps like a bagpipe.  Finally, the orgasm took hold of her. Her knees buckled. She collapsed, helpless and hurt, into the arms of her captor.

He used her tied tits as handles to lower her body to the floor. She sat dazed for a moment, gently swaying in her bonds. The sharp smack of his palm across her left breast brought her back.

“Position!”

Julie sprung into position, remembering her place. She struggled to sit upright, resting her ass on her feet. Her bound chest thrust forward as she arched her shoulders back, then gently bowed her head.

His hand landed across her breast again. Julie did not flinch. 

“Do not falter from your position.” He warned her, “If you do, I will take you as you are and dump you in an alley.”

Julie pondered his threat. She wondered what it would be like, to be left naked and helpless in an alley somewhere, another piece of trash dumped in the street, to be picked up by strangers. On the floor beneath her, a puddle was growing from her excitement.

“You won’t need these.” 

He scooped up her clothes, still heaped in the small pile on the floor where she had dropped them. A short skirt, sheer blouse and heels were all that she had worn today. She had dressed as ordered, then driven to a shopping mall to meet him. Her clothes, her keys, and her purse were all she had brought with her when she climbed into his car for the trip. Julie watched as he walked out, carrying her only clothing to the trash.

Julie waited, holding her stance while he threw out her clothes. The tin lid rattled shut on the trash can. 

‘He’s right, ‘ she thought, ‘a bound woman doesn’t need clothes.’ A few moments later, he returned.

“Time to get you ready for transport.”  He announced, lifting her from the floor by her bonds. Using the ropes as carrying straps, he casually tossed her in the trunk of his car. Darkness closed around Julie as he slammed the trunk lid shut.

Soon they were off. To where Julie didn’t know. For her, bouncing along in the dark, naked and bound, her mouth packed and sealed, it did not matter. They were on the freeway now, she guessed from the consistent speed and unvarying pitch of the engine. She heard cars pass by, a motorcycle, and the occasional big truck. All speeding past, oblivious to her plight.

She had been cargo in this trunk before, nearly every weekend for almost a year. She had yearned to be stripped, trussed, and taken as long as she could recall. As a teenager in high school, wiggling along the hallways in her tight jeans and T-shirt, she had fantasied about being pulled into the janitor’s closet.  There she would be roped, stripped, and left, whimpering in the dark as the other students passed by. In college she crossed many dark alleys walking back to her dorm.  Many imagined hands had reached from the shadows, clamping across her mouth and dragging her in.  Later still she discovered Internet porn. She perused web sites filled with images of young women trussed, shivering naked and dirty in dark warehouses and factories. She wanted to be one of them, trembling helpless on the cold floor.  She had been tempted to send an email to one of the sites, to offer herself as their next victim. But that was not what she wanted. She wanted her plight to be real. She wanted to be a captive, not a model or an actress.

She met him in a chat room. The obscurity of the Internet enabled her to confess her desires freely. She discovered that he lived just two hours away. Hesitantly, she decided to meet him. They met at a restaurant for dinner and discussion. Afterwards, they went back to his place. She rode there in the trunk, her panties stuffed in her mouth.

He was in real estate, buying and selling properties for development. He had taken her to a number of places he had bought or was buying. She had spent her weekends naked and bound in the attics and basements of several decrepit old houses, a gas station, a warehouse, and an old empty store.  During the spring she spent a four day weekend captive on a farm. He kept her as an animal, naked and trussed in straw filled stalls and cramped pens. He led her outside one day and tied her bent over a split rail fence, lashing her bound breasts to a low rung. He reamed and whipped her without mercy, then left her welted ass to slowly burn in the midday sun. She lost track of how many times she came.

Her long, brutal weekend on the farm left her wanting more, and she seized the opportunity when it presented itself. She was changing jobs, and had chosen to use the vacation time from her current job instead of cashing it out. She had two weeks of vacation due her and she was taking it, with her notice effective at the end. She would spend two painful weeks naked and bound as his captive before reporting, well used, rope marked and bruised, to her new job.

The car was slowing now, beginning a turn. They were leaving the freeway, she guessed. Soon the motion became less steady as the car repeatedly slowed, stopped, and travelled forward again. They must be travelling in the city again, Julie thought.  She had no idea how long they had been travelling. For a woman bound and gagged in the dark, time means nothing.

The car turned, slow and sharp. Julie could hear gravel popping under the wheels.  The car bounced along the uneven road, tossing her about as the tires found each new hole. She guessed they were in an alley. They stopped. A door opened. Alarmed, she wondered about his threat. ‘Is he really going to dump me on some back street?’ Julie could hear metal rattling, rhythmic, like a chain, perhaps being pulled from a gate. The car swayed as he returned to the driver’s seat, closing the door. They bounced forward a few yards, then stopped again.

They had arrived. Where she didn’t know.

Light poured in, blinding her as the trunk lid popped up. He lifted her out. Her eyes began to adjust to the light.  She was standing near a loading dock. Litter drifted about, swirling in tiny whirlwinds at her bound feet. The dock leads into a brick building of some sort. The building loomed high above her on three sides. It had sat vacant, boarded up, probably for years, waiting for her to occupy it.

Julie struggled to face the direction of clattering metal.  He was locking a gate with a chain. The gate was chain link, eight feet high, with rows of barbed wire stretched across the top. Beyond it lays the alley, a narrow passage between towering brick walls ending half a block away in a street. Traffic drifted by the end of the alley. Julie suddenly became aware of her nudity. For the first time, she was embarrassed, standing there, naked and bound, ropes threading her cunt, her tits tied, sticking way out in front.

Watching her blush, he cupped her breasts in his hands, giving them a twist. 

“Embarrassed?” He took hold of her crotch rope, pulling it deeper. “Maybe I’ll unlock the gate and leave you here for the bums.”

He pulled harder, lifting her up, teetering on her toes. “I’m sure they would have fun with this.”

He tossed her over his shoulder and carried her inside. He paused at the door, fumbling with his keys in one hand as he worked the lock. Inside it was dark, dry, and dirty. He carried her towards some stairs, just beyond an old delivery truck. The truck sat leaning on rotted tires, its big round fenders and washboard grill thick with dust. Its headlights were gone from their sockets. It seemed to stare at her, its dark, empty orbits following her as he carried her by. He hauled her up the narrow wooden stairs, boards creaking, his shoes leaving tracks in the dirt. Again he fumbled with his keys, working another lock.

He carried in to the center of a cavernous room, dropping her to the floor like a side of meat. This room was brighter and cleaner, she thought, and looked to have been recently swept and mopped. Along one wall sat a row of old benches, piled with boxes and new bundles of rope. He had been here earlier, readying it for her, she guessed. The floor was slatted wood, dry and rough from use and age. Light streamed in from long rows of frosted windows, fixed in metal frames high overhead. The top row had been cranked open, leaning outward just a bit. Outside, she could hear traffic passing by.

“Welcome to your new home.”

Julie “mmmphed” softly into her gag, watching as he rummaged through boxes, selecting a dildo and a plug. He returned to her, dropping the items as he adjusted her position, making her kneel in a ball with her face pressed against the floor.  He untied her crotch rope, making her easier to fill.

“Time to get you ready for storage.” he told her, shoving the plug into her wet hole. Her lips slid over it, lubricating it with her thick juices as he thrust it in and out. Her flesh slurped around it as he pulled it out, now wet and ready for her ass. He probed her ass with it, swirling the tip in her hole before ramming it in. She moaned into her gag as her flesh stretched around the plug’s widest point. Clutching it with one hand, he began twisting and pulling it, reaming her ass with it before finally packing it in.

She was trembling now, moaning and gasping as he shoved the dildo in her, twisting, thrusting it, fucking her with it until she came. Finished with her for now, he seated it deeply in place. He pulled the rope back through her legs, anchoring everything in.

He rolled her onto her belly and drew the crotch rope up to her wrists. He did not tie it there, but instead pulled it down to her ankles, using it to fold her legs into a tight hog tie. With the rope holding her hog tied threaded through her crotch, any movement of her arms or legs would pull it tighter, driving her plugs in deeper while the tugging on her bound breasts, now crushed and pinned beneath her body. He stood over her, one foot on her back, shoving her down, grinding her swollen tits into the floor.

“That ought to hold a nice little piece of meat like you until I come back.” he told her. She twisted and screamed, pleading into her gag for him not to leave her. The door closed behind him. Keys jingled in the lock. Then he was gone. 

She was alone.

After some effort, Julie was able to roll herself onto her side.  Straining, she surveyed her surroundings. The room was huge, easily as big as a gymnasium. Fat pipes ran the length of the interior wall. On the wood floor were a number of large, round impressions where things had once been. The pipes had capped outlets, that appeared to have fed into the round things, whatever they might have been.  Overhead the ceiling was framed with steel beams. Pulleys and ropes dangled high in the air. They looked new. Julie guessed that they were for her, to hoist her aloft. Rolling on to her other side she could see a steamer trunk and two wooden crates. 

‘More places to stuff me.’ she thought.

Julie wanted to explore her new prison, to hobble through its dark regions, her bound hands uselessly twisting doorknobs, seeking an escape. The hog tie made that impossible. She would stay where he wanted her. His ropes saw to that.

Daylight faded to the warm glow of sunset, then into night. The unnatural yellow glow of streetlights back lit the windows, casting big shadows across the room. Outside, the traffic had diminished to an occasional car. From the sidewalk below Julie heard voices. They sounded young and tough. She laid still and silent, listening to their banter, afraid they might somehow hear her if she moaned into her gag. If they found her, they would certainly like her. She was a young, shapely brunette, gagged helpless and naked, trussed up like a pig. She would be quite a treat.

Slowly, Julie rolled onto her belly, straining to arch her hips. She quietly tugged at her bonds with her feet, tensing the ropes around her breasts and through her crotch. She began working the plug and the dildo with her ropes, forcing them deeper as sharp pains darted through her tits. She listened to their voices and imagined they were taking her, one from behind while another made her suck. She rocked back and forth on her belly, working the dildo faster and faster, fighting to keep her gasps and moans in her throat.

‘Yes,’ she thought as the orgasm washed over her, ‘I would be quite a treat.’

Eventually, they moved on, their voices fading into the distance. For Julie, the fantasy continued until daybreak, filling the first of many sleepless nights.

03.08.07