EXTRACT FOR
Bondage Tales No. 2
(Traci Wilde)

Cassandra suddenly grew nervous. She stood at the bottom of the steps, looking up to the front door. It was a plain enough house ??" large porch covering much of the front of the structure, two windows on the second floor overlooking the front yard. If someone had been up there, looking out, they surely would have seen Cassandra park on the street, approach the house.

God, what am I doing?

Cassandra had seen the ad on Craigslist. At 37, with two kids and a fifteen-year marriage, she had long ago succumbed to the idea that her life was a series of PTO meetings, soccer and basketball games, neighborhood watch meetings, backyard barbecues and being a part-time widow during football and basketball seasons.

Adventure? Passion? Naughtiness? A distant memory, something she knew other, younger people with fewer responsibilities enjoyed.

Then she saw the ad.

Bondage/fetish models wanted. Regular housewives only, age 30 to 50. Wafer-thin or younger women need not apply.

Cassandra had sometimes fantasized about bondage, about wild, rough sex with a stranger. She'd even convinced Vince, her husband, to experiment with a bit of bondage from time to time, but he wasn't really into it. She'd visited some of the websites, watched videos of women bound and controlled, dreamed of what it would be like to be the woman, to be there, helpless.

But that was all it would ever be ??" a dream.

Then she saw the posting. She replied, and they sent her an e-packet, with a link to a couple of their videos ??" her favorite was one with a woman tied to a tree, nude, in the snow, gagged, with little electrodes attached to her breasts. The woman in control, the dominatrix, took turns pelting the slave with snow, or turning on the electrodes. Her breasts would jump and jiggle from the surge of electricity flowing through them, the woman would scream and beg through the gag...



...Now, standing in front of the house where they had scheduled their meeting, and the shoot, Cassandra felt a shiver roll through her.

This is crazy.

She turned to leave when the door opened.

"Cassandra Delaney?"

She stopped, slowly turned back to the house. "Ye...yes."

The woman stepped from the house and stood at the top of the stairs. She was the one from the video Cassandra watched, the dominatrix. She was less imposing in person ??" Cassandra guessed she was maybe five-foot four, no more than one-hundred and ten pounds. She had long, black hair, a very light complexion, and when she smiled her face looked inviting, kind.

"I'm Leah, we've been chatting online."

"Yes," Cassandra replied, not sure what to say, do.

Leah stepped down onto the yard. "I know, you're nervous, probably scared. It's okay. Let's go in, talk a little. If you're still not comfortable, we can part ways, no harm."

She smiled again, put her hand out. Cassandra took it, then they walked up the stairs and into the house. They stepped into what looked like a small meeting room ??" a desk was in the corner, and in the center of the room a larger table, with papers spread out on it. Two men seated there stood. One looked amazingly like the old Monkees singer Davy Jones ??" same height, same boyish face, same long hair ??" and the other was a taller man, with a bald head and thick black mustache.

They smiled and introduced themselves ??" the Davy Jones look-alike was Tom, the videographer and director, while the taller man was Lars. He spoke with a faint Swedish accent, and said he served as a bondage expert and on-camera talent. Leah was in charge of the shoot ??" the company, she explained, belonged to her.

They sat and talked a few minutes, explained how the shoot would go, showed her a couple more videos of shoots ??" both what was sold to the public and behind-the scenes. In the edited videos, ones made for sale to the public, the woman looked terrified, as if they were being made to do all sorts of things, that they were in pain, humiliated ??" virtual slaves used however Leah and Lars decided they would be used. The behind-the-scenes shots, though, showed a different story.

"I have to admit, every one of the models, in the behind-the-scenes videos, looked like they're having fun. And you guys certainly look like you're taking care of them."

Leah reached across the table and patted her on the hand. "This is a business, nothing more," she said. "A good business that takes care of its talent. Once a girl becomes one of ours, we take care of her."

It all sounded good to Cassandra. They went over some legal papers, how the payments would be made ??" she'd receive the five hundred dollars today, after the shoot, and she was surprised to learn that was an advance, that she'd get five percent of the total sales of the video, minus expenses, up to two thousand dollars.

They walked her to the room where the shooting would be done ??" it was up stairs, in the back corner of the house, with a few hooks in the ceiling where ropes could be hung, as well as a bed and table. They walked her through some of the basics of what they might do ??" Leah said they never tell the model exactly what's coming because they like to get some real-life reaction in shoots ??" but gave her a good idea of what to expect. Lars would have a gun, Leah explained, but it would be fake. She even let Cassandra hold the gun, get familiar with it.

Then they went back down stairs.

"We ready?" Leah asked, smiling.

Cassandra smiled back, but she was more nervous now than ever. It all seemed so cut and dried, just professional film makers walking through a shoot, yet the idea of being bound, controlled, naked, made her uneasy.

"Hey, don't feel any pressure. If this isn't for you, that's okay. It's not for everyone," Leah said, her voice soothing, reassuring.

"No, I'm good. Here, let me sign."

Cassandra put her signature on all the papers, then they all went upstairs, but to a separate room. There, Leah gave her a change of clothes, a set of keys, told her to dress, then step from the bedroom into the hallway, but pretend she's coming home, just stepping into her house.

She changed ??" the new clothes were nice enough, a button-down white silky blouse, a tight black skirt that didn't quite make it down to her knees, a too-small lacy bra, thongs that were uncomfortably up ass crack the moment she put them on, black stockings and a pair of shoes with three-inch heels. She dressed, walked around a minute to get her balance in the shoes, then stepped from the room. Cassandra turned, pretended she was locking the door behind her, then took a few steps down the hallway when a man ??" it was Lars, but he was dressed in black with a mask over his face ??" stepped behind her, gun in her lower back.

"Wha...what do you want?" she whined, surprised at how convincing she sounded.

"Hands on your head," he said.

She dropped the keys and complied.

"Now, on your knees," he commanded.

She hesitated, and next thing Cassandra felt was his hand grabbing her wrists along with a handful of her hair and his knee slamming into the back of hers. She lost her balance, went down to her knees hard.

"When I command, you do," he said.

She whimpered, nodded as best she could with him holding her hair.

Then he released her wrists, put the gun in his pocket and yanked her arms behind her. He put her wrists together ??" not crossed, but the insides of her wrists against one another, and she felt rope loping around them, between them, until it was tied off tight.

"Please, don't" she begged, as they had instructed. "Take whatever you want, mister, but don't tie me up. I won't call anyone."

Cassandra felt more rope, this time looping around her upper arms, above her elbows. He looped it several times, then pulled tight, pulling her elbows very close behind her. The movement strained her arms, shoulders, forced her chest out in front.

"Oh, please, mister, that hurts. Please, let me go, I won't call anyone, I promise."

There was real pleading in her voice now ??" this position did hurt, although not unbearably.

"You're right, you won't call anyone. In fact, you won't say anything at all."

The man stood and stepped around Cassandra, pulling out a big O-ring with straps on it. Cassandra wasn't sure what it was, she'd never seen anything like it, until he reached down and put the ring against her lips.

"Open wide," he said.

She shook her head frantically from side to side. 

"I said open wide," he said. Lars pulled her roughly to her feet, then reached around and smacked her ass. Hard. Even through the skirt it stung.

"Open."

She shook her head again. Lars unfastened the top two buttons on her blouse, reached inside, slipped his fingers inside her bra and pinched her nipple hard. He held the pinch.

Cassandra squirmed and whimpered. She opened her mouth, ready to scream, but before she could form the first syllable Lars had the ring shoved in her mouth. It was behind her front teeth, against the roof of her mouth and the bottom, and held her mouth open too wide.

Lars pulled his hand from inside her bra and quickly looped the straps around her head, pulling tight and fastening them.

Cassandra tried saying talking, asking what he was doing, nothing but unintelligible sound escaped her mouth, along with a long string of spit.

She raised her head up, face toward the ceiling, trying to keep her saliva from drooling from her open mouth. She looked at Leah. "Eeee...eeee," she called, trying to say please, but without being able to shut her mouth, she could only form the "e."

Lars grabbed the ropes around her elbows and pulled ??" Cassandra fought to keep her balance, walking backwards in the heels ??" until they were in the center of the bondage room.

Cassandra watched helplessly as Lars looped another rope through one of the hooks in the ceiling, then tied one end of the rope to the one binding her wrists. He pulled upward, which had the effect of pulling Cassandra's arms up, high behind her, making her bend over at the waist.

"Oooo." She cried. The sound was accompanied by a mouth full of saliva drooling from her lips, over her chin, hanging down.

Leah stepped to her, cupped Cassandra's face in her hand and kissed her forehead. "Now the fun begins," she whispered.