Melissa's Quality Time
Melissa was looking forward to a nice relaxing time in self-bondage...Then Louisa turned up!
It was Saturday afternoon and time for Melissa to relax. After a long, busy week at work, she’d spent the morning doing all the household chores that needed to be done and been to do her weekly shopping. And now, the curvaceous twenty two year old brunette was looking forward to some quality time on her own. Meticulously, she went around making sure that all the windows in her apartment were shut, the curtains drawn and the door to the outside world securely locked. For Melissa wanted no disturbance during the next few hours; no prying eyes to catch a glimpse of the secret pastime that she was about to indulge in.
Different people have widely varying definitions of what constitutes quality time. In Melissa’s world, quality time equated to bondage time, or more accurately, self-bondage time. It was a subject that had fascinated her since she was a girl, and one she’d been a practitioner of for several years now. In fact, she now considered herself something of an expert in the art of tying herself up in extremely stringent bondage for extended periods of time, which was the aim of today’s session. But first she had to get dressed for the occasion.
Entering her bedroom and shutting the door behind her, she stripped off all of her everyday clothes, before producing from the wardrobe the one-piece outfit that was to replace them. Slowly, relishing every second, she eased the skin tight black spandex cat-suit over her toes, inserted her feet into the attached stirrups, then worked the clinging fabric up her calves and thighs; smoothing out any wrinkles as she went. Teasing the smooth stretchy material up over her hips, her stomach and her breasts, she inserted her arms into the sleeves and pulled the suit up around her shoulders to her throat. Dexterously reaching behind her back, she gently pulled the zip upwards to where it terminated at the nape of her neck. Standing in front of the full length mirror on the wall, the image that met her gaze was that of a lithe young female encased almost entirely in super-tight spandex that glistened in the light, with long brown hair cascading around her shoulders. Every time she moved, the feel of the tight material sent a shiver of pleasure through her. She loved the sensation that the clinging fabric induced. She loved the way it highlighted every curve and contour of her body and legs. She loved the way it shimmered in the light as she moved. It was almost a form of bondage in itself, insofar as it adhered to every square inch of her flesh and held her in its clutches. For these reasons, Melissa always bought her cat-suits and leggings a size smaller than she really required, in an effort to get the tightest, and therefore the most pleasurable, fit possible. And on top of all that, the use of close fitting clothing in a bondage situation was also a practical consideration, as the skin tight nature of the garment meant that there were no loose or flapping pieces of material to get in the way when binding up her limbs and body.
Having posed and admired herself in the mirror for fully five minutes, Melissa snapped out of her reverie and began getting the necessary equipment ready for the coming hours. Once assembled on the bed, Melissa ticked each item off on a mental check list, to ensure that she hadn’t forgotten anything. There were several lengths of rope – more than she actually needed, in fact – a roll of heavy-duty duct tape, a large but soft rubber ball and - most importantly of all – the set of shiny metal handcuffs that clinked together enticingly as she laid them on the mattress beside the other paraphernalia. From the lock of one of the steel bracelets, a small key protruded.
Sitting on the bed, Melissa took the first length of rope, wrapped it tightly around her ankles several times, then cinched and secured the bond at the front of her legs. She then applied two more bonds in similar fashion, one just below, the other just above her knees; ensuring as she went that each was tight and wouldn’t slip down her legs no matter how much she wriggled and tried to wrench one leg away from the other. Satisfied that her legs were now useless to her, she took another piece of rope, found the mid-point and placed this behind her back at waist level. Bringing both strands around to encircle her body, she placed the ends through the bight and pulled back in the reverse direction until the rope was extremely constrictive. She then brought the ends down between her legs, pulled them up at the front and tied this off on her stomach, ensuring that the rope dug tightly into her crotch.
Taking the handcuffs, Melissa laid the key on the bed, reached around behind her back and threaded one cuff under the recently acquired waist rope; allowing the pair of steel bracelets to dangle freely by their connecting chain whilst she applied the finishing touches to her impending state of captivity.
Before imprisoning her hands in the manacles and completing her bondage, however, Melissa had one important task to perform. Tying yourself up was all well and good, of course, but it wasn’t really half as much fun without some kind of gag to restrict vocalization. Picking up the soft rubber ball, Melissa squeezed it tightly until it was small enough to fit into her mouth and wedge behind her teeth. As she knew it would, once her fingers released their grip, the ball expanded back to its original size, – or at least to the dimensions of the cavity behind her teeth – pinning her tongue down and making it impossible to spit out. Just to make certain, however, she took the roll of tape, stuck the end down over her lips and proceeded to wrap the bonding adhesive several times around her face and lower head, ensuring to first lift her hair out of the way. Each encirclement of her face was smoothed down as she went along, with each successive winding either slightly higher or slightly lower than the one before, so that, when she finally tore the tape from the reel, her face was invisible from just below her nose to just under her chin. A test scream proved to Melissa’s satisfaction just how limited her powers of communication had now become.
Taking one final length of rope, Melissa found the bight and made a loose slipknot. Sitting with her knees bent to their limits, she wrapped the two loose ends of this rope several times around the cinch of her ankle bond, until there was just another slack for the slipknot to reach as far as the handcuffs, then secured them together with a stout knot. Turning over and lying on her stomach, she reached around and threaded one of the steel bracelets through the loose slipknot. Placing her left hand into the first bracelet, a shiver of excitement ran through her as she heard the ratchets slowly click shut around her wrist. Getting her other hand into the still vacant cuff was a slightly more difficult operation, but after a minute or two of fumbling, the click, click, click sound, together with the tightening of the cold steel onto her skin, told her that she was now trapped. Grabbing the rope that connected her hands to her ankles, she pulled as harder as she could whilst trying to straighten her legs, thus tightening the slipknot in the process. To her delight, she found that she’d estimated the length of rope needed to produce a strict hog-tie almost to perfection; her ankles now being held in close proximity to her hands, although the securing knots were, by design, out of reach from her grasping fingers. Turning her head to the left, she could see the handcuff key, nestling in the duvet only a few inches away. She wouldn’t be requiring this for an hour or two, but it was comforting to know that it was there when she needed it….or in the event of an emergency.
Now Melissa could relax. For a few minutes she writhed and struggled in a mock battle to attain a freedom that she neither wanted nor had any hope of achieving. She was pleased to find that she’d done an excellent job, as none of the ropes showed any sign of loosening during these endeavours. By now, however, the whole binding ritual, coupled with the feeling of total restraint, had her in a state of indescribably excitement and, in an effort to heighten the feeling of arousal, her fingers gripped the rope that ran between her legs and pulled it as taut as possible. Even through her spandex suit, she felt the rope dig deep into her pussy. Rhythmically, she began pulling on the rope, working herself up into a frenzy, until after a few minutes she reached her climax, which was accompanied by a muffled groan of contentment. Now she rested, closing her eyes and letting the warm glow she felt throughout her body overwhelm her.
How long she dozed off for, she wasn’t exactly sure. But she was instantly awoken by the sound of the door bell ringing. Who could that be on a Saturday afternoon? She’d invited no one around. Must be a cold-caller of some sort she assumed; a double glazing or insurance salesman, or maybe Jehovah’s Witnesses. Whoever it was would soon go away when nobody answered the door, she thought. She was amazed, therefore, when, about a minute later, the bell sounded again. They were persistent, she’d give them that much. Surely that was it, though. They wouldn’t ring for a third time, would they?
Melissa was correct in this assumption, as the bell failed to chime for a third time. However, after another minute or so, a further noise did reach her ears; a sound that made her heart pound loudly. For the sound that emanated from the hallway was the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock, and this was almost immediately followed by a slight creak as the door opened. Who could be entering her flat? Nobody, as far as she knew, had a key.
“Hi Melissa. It’s me, Louisa. Are you in?”
Louisa! Of course! It suddenly all came back to her. Louisa was a friend and work colleague to whom Melissa had given a key to her apartment when she’d been away for a few days recently, in order for her to come in and feed the goldfish. It occurred to her now that she’d forgotten to ask for the key back. And now, Louisa was in her flat, only yards from where she lay in all her bound up glory. Melissa rolled awkwardly onto her side, her fingers frantically groping for the key to the cuffs. It was, she found, located higher up the bed than she’d realized - closer to her shoulders than her hands - and would require a fair bit of manoeuvring of her whole body before she could reach it.
“Melissa? Are you alright?”
The voice was closer than the first time; right outside the bedroom door, in fact. Melissa froze, not daring to move now in case the bed creaked and gave away her presence. She hoped that Louisa would check the living room and the kitchen, then leave thinking that she was out. Surely she wouldn’t enter the bedroom, would she?
This question was soon answered, although the outcome was not the one that Melissa had been hoping for. To her horror, she watched as the handle turned and, almost in slow motion, the door opened. For a second or two, Louisa stood in the doorway, wearing tight jeans and an even tighter t-shirt, her long blonde hair framing her face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in a look of disbelief. Then she rushed towards the bed with grave concern etched on her face.
“Melissa! What happened? Who did this to you?”
Melissa could feel her face already reddening with embarrassment. How long would it be before Louisa realized that her predicament wasn’t the work of some intruder, but was entirely self-inflicted?
The answer to this question was…..not long at all. In fact, almost as Louisa sat down on the bed beside her stricken friend, her eyes seemed to glance over to the space behind Melissa’s back where the key to the handcuffs lay. The look on her face altered almost instantly from one of solemn concern to a knowing smile.
“Wait a minute! You did this to yourself, didn’t you?”
Melissa knew that there was no point in trying to lie. Glumly, she nodded.
“So this is what you get up to at the weekends, is it? That explains why you never want to come out clubbing with us on a Saturday night.”
It was true. Whilst her friends were out partying, getting drunk and getting laid, Melissa would normally be at home alone in some state of bondage or other.
“You know” Louisa continued “I came around here today to drop the key off that you’d given me. I was going to simply push it through the letter box with a note. But then I noticed your car outside and assumed you must be in. Then, when I got no reply, I thought I’d better check that you were alright and that you weren’t ill or anything. I can see now though, that you’re more than alright. In fact, you look as if you’re having a lot of fun.”
As Melissa gazed up at her friend, she thought she detected a hint of mischief in the smile on her face. And if she’d read the signs at the time, Melissa should have noticed that there were more sinister overtones to the way that Louisa was reacting. Why, for example, had she not begun to help her friend get loose? In case she needed a prompt, Melissa pulled her wrists up as far as she could and rattled the handcuffs, making a garbled plea at the same time to assist her in getting out of her bonds. The message came out as a string of meaningless sounds that even Melissa couldn’t recognize as words, however, so how was Louisa meant to understand their meaning? Even so, surely Louisa could see what was required of her, so what was she waiting for?
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Louisa stretched her hand out towards Melissa’s sealed lips. However, rather than beginning to peel the mass of tape away from her face, as Melissa was anticipating, she felt her friend’s fingers gently smoothing the grey strips down onto her skin; making certain, it seemed, that the tape reasserted its grip on her flesh rather than relinquishing it. A surprised sound emanated from Melissa’s throat at this unexpected turn of events, accompanied by a quizzical look that was supposed to convey her surprise and dismay at the way this whole thing was going. Obligingly, Louisa began to explain.
“You’re obviously enjoying yourself, so I don’t really think it’s my place to untie you. After all, I feel a bit guilty about just walking in and spoiling your fun.”
She fell silent for a few seconds, as if an idea was forming in her head.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. To make it up to you, I will help you with your bonds.”
She paused again, this time more for dramatic effect, it seemed.
“Not to get out of them though. You’ve done a pretty good job on yourself here, but I can see a couple of areas that you could improve on. Let me show you.”
Louisa reached over and picked up one of the spare ropes that lay coiled by her helpless friend’s feet. Melissa had no idea exactly what part of her anatomy this rope was going be used on, but she guessed – correctly, as it turned out - that it didn’t bode well for her overall condition. Frantically, she tried to thrust her body backwards, towards the area of the bed in which she knew the handcuff key to be situated. But her efforts were to no avail, for almost immediately, Louisa grabbed her by the arm and rolled her back onto her stomach. Reaching over the helpless woman in front of her, Louisa picked up the key, examined it for a second or two, then stood up and placed it in the back pocket of her jeans.
“We won’t be needing that for a while, will we?”
Sitting down, she picked up the unused rope again. The protestations that emanated from behind her gag fell on deaf ears, as Melissa discovered exactly where the latest edition to her bonds was to be placed. Grabbing her squirming victim’s arms, Louisa forced Melissa’s elbows together and quickly wrapped several coils of rope around them. Being young and supple, Melissa found that, when force was used, her elbows almost touched each other, and with the encirclement of the rope, they were pulled closer and closer together as the ligature tightened. The bond grew more restrictive still as her friend-turned-captor cinched the rope, knotted it securely and then tucked the ends away to ensure they couldn’t be tampered with by desperately stretching fingers. The upshot of all this was that, once Louisa’s hands had released their grip on her arms, Melissa found that she was no longer able to pull her elbows apart, and that her shoulders were pulled backwards in an unnatural – not to mention rather uncomfortable – posture.
Louisa hadn’t yet finished however. Turning her attention to the hog-tie, she began to unpick the knot that held this particular bond to her ankles, and seconds later Melissa felt the rope that connected the handcuffs to her feet loosen somewhat. This was confusing. Why, as Louisa had just gone to all that trouble of putting her in a strict elbow tie, was she now apparently releasing her? It was soon to become apparent, however, that Melissa’s release was the last thing on Louisa’s mind. Quite the opposite in fact.
The ultimate reason for temporarily letting Melissa out of the hog-tie was simply due to the fact that Louisa had decided that this particular bond could be more effectively applied. However, this only became apparent a few minutes later. Firstly, Louisa had plans to inflict even further torment on the already well trussed up young woman that she had at her mercy. Hauling Melissa up, so that she was now in a kneeling position on the bed, Louisa set about creating an intricate harness that encompassed both her captive’s torso and her upper arms in a web of tightly cinched rope. As Melissa in turn pleaded and demanded – unsuccessfully - to be set free, the remaining ropes that had until now lain discarded on the bed found their way around her, until she was encumbered in an extremely stringent latticework that ran behind her neck, under her armpits, and above, below and diagonally across her breasts; ensuring in the process that her arms were now firmly lashed to her back from shoulder to wrist. With this completed, Melissa found herself flung unceremoniously back down onto her stomach.
It was at this point, as she took a few seconds out to admire her handiwork, that Louisa seemed to notice for the first time, the crotch rope that Melissa wore. She grabbed and pulled on it playfully, causing an involuntary squeal to escape from Melissa’s packed and sealed mouth.
“I see you’ve given yourself something to keep yourself entertained while you’re all tied up. At least that will give you something to occupy your time when I leave you here for a few hours.”
Whether it was the fact that Louisa planned to keep her a prisoner for a prolonged period of time, or whether it was because she found her legs being bent up behind her in readiness for the rebinding of the hog-tie rope that caused Melissa to begin fighting her bonds like she’d never done before, was a moot point. Nor did her struggles have any chance of producing positive results. Being bound up to such a degree, Melissa was no match for Louisa, and within seconds she found her fingers once more in touch with her feet. Melissa had thought at the time that the hog-tie she’d placed herself in was the strictest that she’d ever encountered and couldn’t have been bettered, but in this regard Louisa was to prove her wrong. Pulling the rope up from her ankles, twisting it around both the handcuffs and the waist rope, Louisa brought the rope back down to Melissa’s feet, wrapped it around the ankle bond, repeated this circuit twice more, before finally tying the final securing knot on the front of her ankles. Standing up, Louisa walked around the bed. Melissa knew by now that trying to appeal to her tormentor’s better nature was unlikely to have any effect, so she simply lay there, letting her eyes do the pleading for her. Unfortunately, this tactic was about to backfire on her.
“Oh stop looking at me so pathetically with those big brown eyes of yours. You were tied up when I got here and you’re still tied up now, so what’s the problem? If anything, you should be thanking me for helping you achieve a state of bondage that you couldn’t have attained on your own.”
Suddenly, Louisa seemed to have a brainwave. Melissa watched with growing trepidation as the other woman began rummaging in the drawers in the dressing table; guessing that, whatever it was that Louisa had in mind, it was going to be bad news for her. And so it proved.
After opening two or three of the drawers, Louisa found what she was looking for, and when she withdrew her hand Melissa saw that she had one of her silk scarves in her hand. As Louisa came back towards the bed, Melissa tried desperately to move away from her, but being so thoroughly bound ensured she had no chance of eluding the scarf, which was soon being placed over her eyes and wound several times around her head, before tightening to a significant degree as the knot was secured at the back of her head. Now enveloped in a world of total darkness, Melissa instinctively tried to get the blindfold off by rubbing her face against the bedding, in an effort to get the silky material to ride up onto her forehead. This proved, however, to be a grave mistake on her part, as almost immediately Louisa seemed to figure out her motives.
“I see what it is you’re up to, and I can see how, given a concerted effort and a bit of time, you might be successful. I guess I’ll have to do something to make sure that your head is a tamper-free zone.”
The bed rose slightly as Louisa once more stood up, then the sound of soft footsteps on the carpeted floor were followed by the unmistakable sound of one of the drawers opening again. This time, it didn’t take her as long to find what it was she was looking for, and within a few seconds the bed dipped down again. The next thing Melissa knew, some kind of material touched the top of her head, although it was several seconds before she could figure out exactly what it was that Louisa’s latest scheme entailed. But then, as the stretch fabric was pulled down over her head, she realized to her great dismay what was happening. Down over the blindfold, over her nose, over her sealed mouth and down under her chin, the soft, smooth garment was pulled until her whole head, down as far as her neck, was encased in one leg of a pair of her own tights.
No sooner had she smoothed the makeshift hood down and ensured that it wouldn’t ride up, than Louisa was heading for the door.
“That should hold you for a while. I have things I need to do right now, but I’ll be back this evening to see how you’re getting on. Quite frankly, though, I think the chances of you getting out of that are less than zero. Still, I’m sure you’ll enjoy trying. See you later.”
And with those words still ringing in Melissa’s ears, the bedroom door shut, followed seconds later by the front door.
Melissa tried to struggle, but found that with the vast array of bonds that she now wore, she was almost incapable of moving an inch. The handcuffs, the hog-tie, her elbow and leg bonds and the harness all conspired to make locomotion away from the spot at which she’d been abandoned extremely difficult. With a great effort, she could jerk her whole being and move to one side or the other, but what would that achieve? Precisely nothing. She knew already that the handcuffs were unbreakable, but what were the chances of slipping out of some of the ropes? Absolutely nil. Could her grasping, clawing fingers reach any of the securing knots that held these bonds so tightly around her limbs? Not in a million years. Not only was this the tightest, most restrictive bondage that she had ever endured, but it was also the first that she had absolutely no way whatsoever of getting out of. Until Louisa returned with the key, she was stuck like this; completely, totally, utterly, 100% trapped. Hundreds – no make that thousands – of times in the past, she’d fantasized about being kept in inescapable bondage, but now that it was happening, she wasn’t quite so sure that she liked it. She wasn’t in control of her own destiny, and there were so many open ended questions spinning around in her head.
For example, what would Louisa do when she returned? Simply release her, or prolong her suffering in some as yet unimaginable way? More frighteningly, what if Louisa didn’t return at all? How long would it be before she was discovered? These questions, plus a million others, flashed through her mind. And all had one thing in common, insofar as the answer to each and every one of them was unknown and unknowable. At one stage, she panicked and began screaming for someone – anyone – to come to her rescue. But the sound that emerged, after being filtered by the ball and the tape, was merely a pathetic echo of the volume she’d intended. It was no use. No one was ever going to hear her. In a state of utter despair, Melissa lay alone in the silence and darkness, trying to keep calm. She had no way of keeping track of the passage of time, but with every passing minute her fears grew that she would be here all night…. and probably all day tomorrow too.
Finally, just when hope of an early release had all but evaporated from her thoughts, she heard the familiar sound of the door to her flat opening. That could only mean two things….that Louisa had returned and that she was going to be freed from her bonds very shortly.
On the first count, at least, she was proved correct. No sooner had the bedroom door opened than the first mocking comment reached Melissa’s ears.
“Well, well, are you still here? You must really enjoy this whole bondage thing even more than I thought if you haven’t bothered to release yourself yet.”
Melissa decided, however, not to rise to the bait and therefore remained silent. Not only was antagonizing her would-be liberator not a wise move, but she had also decided that, if she stayed completely quiet and still, then perhaps Louisa would think there was something wrong with her – that she was ill or in great physical distress - and would therefore set her free as quickly as she could.
And this ploy seemed at first to be working, as Melissa felt the hands of her erstwhile friend take hold of the tights around her neck and gently ease them up over her head. Next the knot at the back of her head loosened and a split second later the blindfold fell away from her eyes. After so long in darkness, the bright light of her bedroom momentarily blinded her, but as she squinted and blinked, her focus gradually returned to reveal two things. Firstly, it was now dark outside, which meant that, at this time of year, it had to be at least eight o’clock in the evening. Or, put another way, that she had been tied up for over six hours. And the second observation, as her vision adjusted to the unfamiliar light, was that Louisa was sitting on the bed holding something in front of her, only a few inches from Melissa’s face. It was the key to the handcuffs!
“You look so sweet all tied up like this, bondage is obviously your natural habitat. I guess all good things have to come to an end eventually, though, and that I had better start thinking about letting you out of all this.”
As if to convey what she meant by “all this”, she gestured to the mass of ropes still holding Melissa in check, as if she needed a reminder of their continued presence around her. Melissa’s hopes soared at these words. Finally, Louisa had come to her senses and seen the error of her ways. But unfortunately for the helpless female, her status as a ‘damsel in distress’ was far from over just yet.
“Of course, as you enjoy bondage so much, I’m not simply going to open the handcuffs and untie you. Instead I’m going to make you work for your freedom.”
As she spoke, Louisa began to replace the blindfold over Melissa’s eyes. As the realization hit her that this wasn’t the end of her ordeal but merely a momentary respite, Melissa began shaking her head violently, trying to prevent the loss of her sight again. The outcome, however, was never in any doubt and within a minute she was once more plunged into darkness. She cursed and swore at her former friend as the tights also found their way back over her head. From somewhere she summoned enough energy to launch a major assault on the ropes, but all her efforts to loosen, break or wriggle out of her bonds came to nothing. From close at hand, Louisa laughed.
“You’re a feisty one aren’t you? Still, I don’t blame you. I guess struggling is all part of the fun, isn’t it?”
By now Melissa’s burst of energy had expired and she lay face down on the bed, breathing heavily and trying to stop the tears that were beginning to flow into the silk folds that covered her eyes. Louisa, though, was either oblivious to her distress, or simply didn’t care.
“Anyway, enough of your histrionics, here’s the deal. I’m going to leave the key on the edge of the bed for you. If you can find it, then you can release your handcuffs. From there it should be a bit easier to get the out of the rest of your bonds. Although, I would imagine that releasing that elbow rope might take you a little while.”
As she was speaking, Louisa rose from the bed. At first, the sound of her voice came from Melissa’s left, but gradually the direction of the sound changed as Louisa moved first to the foot of the bed, then around to the right hand side.
“Well Melissa, today has been quite an eye opener for me… and probably for you too. I’m off to meet some of my friends and have a night on the town. Shame you can’t join us, but I guess you’re going to be having a good time as well…in your own way.”
Her footsteps could be heard retreating across the bedroom floor.
“As I said, the key is somewhere close to the side of the bed. Take care that you don’t knock it over the edge. If you’re not in the office Monday morning, I’ll assume that you haven’t managed to locate the key, so I’ll come around after work to check on you. Have a nice night!”
The closing of the bedroom door was the catalyst that sparked another bout of screaming from Melissa. Although she was certain that Louisa had left the building, and even though she knew that there was nobody else within earshot, her muted cacophony lasted for several minutes, ceasing only when her throat was raw and exhaustion took its toll. “Don’t panic” she kept telling herself. If Louisa was as good as her word, which Melissa had to hope and pray was the case, then the key was only a few inches away and with a bit of luck she could be out of this whole sorry mess very soon.
But when she started rationally analyzing the task in hand, it appeared that she might have been a bit optimistic in this respect. Firstly there was the precise whereabouts of the key to consider. Louisa had informed her that it lay close to the edge of the bed, but in which direction? Was at the top, near the pillows? Or down by the foot of the bed? Or maybe along one side or other? Had she placed it in one of the corners, or at some random point in between? Louisa had walked around from the left hand side to the right, so it could be anywhere. Was the fact that her last known position before departing was on the right hand side a clue, or simply a red herring? Melissa had no way of knowing, but it was obvious that she had to make a decision. For no particular reason she decided to try the left hand side first.
Lying on her stomach – as she was at the moment – was no good to her, as she had to be able to feel the bedding with her fingers as she went along. The strict hog-tie, however, meant that shifting over onto her side would be an extremely difficult manoeuvre. Next there was the means of locomotion to consider. Once on her side, she would have to somehow drag her bound up body and limbs over to the side of the bed. Being completely sightless was a major drawback in this respect, as she would have no way of knowing how close she was to the edge until she reached it. Not only that, but as she was going to need her fingers to grab the key once she’d located it, pushing herself in a forward direction would be no good. She would have to somehow drag herself backwards.
Rolling onto her side proved more difficult than she’d first imagined, but by gradually rocking herself from side to side, she eventually worked up enough momentum to topple over. Now she started to ease herself backwards, but the combination of her bonds and the softness of the bedding beneath her, made this journey of no more than a few feet into a laborious trek of epic proportions. Each lurch, each slither, each thrust of her body seemed to propel her no more than a fraction of an inch, and it seemed to take an eternity before her knees finally encountered the edge of the mattress.
Her knees, however, would be of no use to her in placing the key in the lock of the handcuffs. What she needed to do now was get her whole body parallel to the perimeter of the bed, so that her fingers could explore the area closest to the edge. And it was at this point that Melissa made a grave error of judgment. In her eagerness to get into the correct position, she forgot that, being bound the way she was, her limbs were incapable of functioning as separate entities; that moving her arms also caused her legs to move in the same direction. What exactly transpired in the next second or two, it was impossible to ascertain, but what Melissa did know was that, one moment she was on the bed, the next her whole body was suddenly in freefall and a second later she was lying dazed and disorientated on the carpet.
The fall was one of only about two feet and her knees took the brunt of the impact, so luckily she was uninjured. She was stunned, however, by this unforeseen occurrence, and for several seconds she lay on the floor, breathing heavily and trying to figure out where she was and how she came to be there. As her head cleared and she once more regained a degree of composure, however, the ramifications of her fall began to hit home. She was on the floor, while the key – presumably – was still on the bed. So how, given her current plight, was she to clamber back up there and retrieve it? In vain she tried to contort herself into a position from which she could somehow propel herself upwards onto the mattress. But each of these attempts ended in failure. It was no good. The mattress was no more than a few inches above her prone form, but it may as well have been in another universe. She had to face the fact that there was no way she could get back up to the plateau on which the key to her freedom rested. She writhed and struggled for all she was worth, in the faint hope that her tumble had in some way dislodged or loosened some of the ropes. But no such luck. She was still as hopelessly trapped as she had been before. And now, she didn’t even have the soft yielding bed beneath her for comfort. Now, she was condemned to languish on the hard, albeit carpeted, floor.
Melissa’s despair plummeted to depths previously unknown. All hope of attaining freedom by her own efforts had now been extinguished. What was it Louisa had said? Something about if Melissa didn’t show up for work on Monday, then she’d come back that evening. But this was Saturday, and Monday evening was almost forty eight hours in the future! How could she possibly endure that length of time in such tight bondage? And without food or drink to sustain her? And what if Louisa didn’t return? What if she had been completely abandoned? It could be several days before anyone became concerned enough to come looking for her. It was going to be a long miserable wait for this helpless young woman, but what could she do?
Well, there was one thing. It wouldn’t in any way get her out of her bondage. It might not relieve the severe strain on her limbs, or quench her raging thirst. But at least it would help to pass the time and take her mind off her grim predicament for a while. Exploring with her fingers amongst the mass of ropes that entwined her, Melissa found the one she was searching for. Pulling it as taut as she could, she rhythmically began jerking the crotch rope, steadily working herself up into a frenzy……
(A sequel to this story, "Melissa's Revenge", can be found at chapter 15 in this compendium)