Management

by Catherine
She made the mistake of trusting someone. Now it's too late to change her
mind. She has become dominated by and dependent on a person who takes over
her life and liberty.


All I need to do is to stay calm and I'll be all right.

Someone will come to get me soon.

Can you believe this? I'm a prisoner in my own house, caught in a trap of
her making and my complicity. A game I was drawn into that has gone
seriously wrong. I feel that I can't trust anyone again. I shift on the bed
to get comfortable. It's another vain hope; she has used specialist
equipment to restrain me.

So how did it happen, this 'situation'? I needed a lodger and she answered
the advertisement. The bills were mounting. She was older then me but not by
much, early thirties I guessed. When she came round to see the room we
clicked immediately. There was no decision to make and she moved in the
Saturday of that week. I didn't bother asking for references, no need I
thought, I had known her all my life. Well, I should have done, but it's too
late now.

That first weekend we stayed up until 3 on Sunday morning getting to know
each other over a bottle (or two) of wine. Confidences were shared and we
giggled like secretive schoolgirls. I went to bed happy at the thought of
having found a new friend. She stayed in her room most of the next day and
when she came out, we hardly exchanged a word. Come late afternoon we
started talking again, she opened the conversation. We talked about sex and
what we wanted from it, about men and our experiences (not good for both of
us). She was remarkably candid and I thought it was appropriate to be the
same. Two women closing in on a relationship that was to change everything.
Later on we found each other in the kitchen, close. The kiss came after the
tense moment of uncertainty, tentative and then full on, both of us taken
away, for the moment, in the throws of pleasure. Breathy separation and then
- embarrassment. I looked at the floor. What could I say? It wasn't supposed
to happen like this. God made us to react to a male embrace not female. I
turned my head away and moved back stopping as I reached the kitchen units.
To my surprise she followed me and we kissed again, this time she forced my
body to arch backwards and ground her hips against mine. Wet was not the
word for it, I moulded myself to her. My body was getting ready for lesbian
sex and my mind was helpless to prevent it.

I don't remember how it happened but I snapped to my senses spread eagle on
my bed, naked. Limbs tied and mouth stuffed with a scarf. Where had I been?
She was stroking my hair and looking into my eyes. "Stay." She whispered and
all the struggle and indignation went out of me like a bath draining away.
She teased, tickled, licked and sucked me late into the night. I cannot
remember the number of orgasms she made me have. I was helpless to stop her
and yet, I thought, in control. If she did something that I didn't react to,
she would change tack. Forcing the last ounce of the orgasm from a body that
had already given everything. After a while I realised I could scream and no
one would hear me.

Afterwards she just walked out of the room leaving me there. I lay there
quiet at first, not able to believe what I had experienced and then started
to struggle to get free. I panicked and threw my body against the bonds
holding me result: covered in sweat, exhausted and still in the same place.
She must have cut me loose in the middle of the night. I woke up and my
limbs were free although the cords were still hanging on them. We met at
breakfast. It was obvious that the night was not to be a topic of
conversation. I was bursting but she asked me if I wanted some corn flakes!
Quite simply, I was hooked and I wanted more. Being bound by her just made
the experience sharper. At work, I couldn't concentrate and came home early.
She ignored the subject for the next few days. It was one of the greatest
experiences of my life, losing my lesbian virginity, and it seemed the other
woman refused to acknowledge that anything occurred. I was full of questions
and doubts, why had I done it, why hadn't I resisted being tied up by her.
Whenever I wanted to talk, that look she gave me was enough to make me cower
It seemed as though she was controlling me by a stare.

The next Friday evening she came to me again, this time a length of rope in
her hand. Her intentions were clear. Despite all the promises to myself
about not letting it happen, when she looked, I melted just like the first
time. We kissed the kiss of lovers in the first throws, passionate and
breathless. She broke off to tie my wrists behind me, occasionally slipping
her had down my panties to caress my clitoris. When we reached my bedroom
she took one of my silk scarves and blindfolded me tightly. Then she tied me
securely, ankles, knees and elbows. After that I was hers. I cannot describe
the explosions in my body as she carefully brought me to the apex of
pleasure. At one moment I begged her to gag me so that I could scream and
release myself fully to her. She pushed a rubber ball in my mouth and tied
it on with a strap thing. After the sex she left me, still tied. On Saturday
afternoon, I think, she went shopping or something. I didn't hear her in the
house for what seemed like hours. Before she went out she tied my wrists to
my ankles. I couldn't move an inch on the bed and I was scared that I might
fall off and hurt myself so I lay very still. When she came back the teasing
started again. She released me on Sunday evening. I was drained mentally and
physically but curious as hell to find out what was happening to me. All my
efforts, however, to talk to her about what was going on were met with
calculated indifference. By the time the next weekend came I was almost
begging her to tie me up.

Friday evening I was furtively staring at her while she was watching the
television, waiting for her to move on me. Nothing happened and I went to
bed with pent up sexual frustration and deep curiosity. Until Saturday
afternoon she just got on with her chores and left me stewing. Then, she
came up to me, cupped my head in her hands and kissed me - hard. Our lips
parted but a string of saliva momentarily connected us. "Are you ready". She
said, and I cast my eyes to the floor and whispered "yes". "Now the game
begins". She produced my scarf again and blindfolded me. I felt her put my
wrists together behind me and then a long sheath-like leather thing slid up
my arms. With a fussy, mother hen manner she did up the straps until my arms
were fused. The ball was used again on me and I was led to a bedroom where
my clothes were cut off me, one by one, slowly until I was naked. Then, I
was chained in some way to the bed, my legs tied together with straps. She
left me there. I heard her downstairs on the phone, making arrangements. A
little later I dozed.

Its days since she tied me like this. For a while there was no sex but later
she made up for it and it was all the more intense for the sensory
deprivation. I think I get two meals a day (I get two meals but when, I don
t know). I pleaded with her once and she stopped feeding me, putting the gag
back in and leaving me. She came back later and plugged my ears and both my
private places. I have had panic attacks but fewer now. I can't see or touch
anything; the leather thing glues my arms behind me. I can't hear. What
about work, my friends, family? I can't speak. What was she doing on the
phone? She must have told them something because no one has come looking for
me.

I am hers. She now pleasures me at will. When she comes to me I promise
myself that, as a captive, I will be resistant to all her tricks. I, of
course, succumb in a few seconds. She uses vibrators to turn me into a mass
of sweating humanity screaming my silent screams for more. She is expert at
finding my sweet spots. In my dark world, my whole body seems as though it
is one sensitised mass. She touches me, strokes me, licks me and I can't
resist. I don't know what she will do next and to which part of me. I am in
heaven during those moments when she ministers to me and long for her in
between.

Recently she made me suck a man. How he got into my house and who he was I
have no idea. I think he was tied to my old bed like I was at the beginning;
she guided my head towards the right spot. I could feel him struggling until
I put my mouth around him and then he just rocked rhythmically until he
exploded in an ocean of seamen. I swallowed what I could and licked him
clean. I did my best for him, its what she wanted. Afterwards, she gagged me
and chained me to the bed again. Later the man was put with me, tied, like
me, and gagged. We spent hours together, trying to unite our bodies,
squirming like worms, slimy with the sweat of the effort and the saliva from
our gags, but it was no use, his organ brushed my lips time after time but
he got no further. I was so desperate for him that I sobbed until my
blindfold was soaked. He was taken away from me later; I expect that she
used him for herself. When he was gone I stewed in my frustration, I wanted
him so much, until the next time she came for me.

Sometimes I think I can hear music from downstairs. It's her house now. I am
just her prisoner, her sex toy. Most of the time she's out or at work. That
s when I cry the lonely tears of the kidnap victim. The fact that I cannot
see, hear or speak is no longer important. She makes me come and I long for
the moments of passion in between the dark hours. Sex has no humanity any
more; it's a means to control me. I am the ultimate victim, pliant,
dependent and, above all, no one knows I am even missing.

The End.