Thursday 13 March 2014

Sitting the Sitter

 

Chapter 1

It took nearly an hour for Marcie to get the twins off to bed. 
Tommy and Tony were just 13, but thought that they could stay up
if she could.  Babysitting them was always a challenge.  It wasn't
made any easier by the fact that their friend, Jim, was staying
over as well.  Jim was almost 15, and nearly hyper-active in his
energy.  It wasn't clear to anyone why he was friends with the
twins, but he was.

Once the kids were upstairs with the lights off, Marcie grabbed a
soda from the fridge, and settled in to watch a late movie.  She
was 17, and wouldn't normally be allowed to stay up and watch late
movies either, but tonight she was in charge.  The Winslows had
shown a great deal of trust in her, leaving their children in her
care for the night, and most of the next day.  They weren't due
back until suppertime on Saturday.  Some kind of retreat thing.

There were rules, of course.  She was supposed to get them dinner
tonight, which she had done, and both breakfast and lunch
tomorrow.  No problem.  She was supposed to get them to bed by
8:30.  That was a problem, since Jim had wanted to stay up until
9:00, and managed to drag even that out.

Marcie settled in, soda in one hand and Tv remote in the other, to
enjoy the quiet time.  After double-checking the stairwell, to
make sure that the children weren¼t lurking there, she turned to
an adult film channel.  That the Winslows had such a channel on
their TV had been a bit of a surprise, but Marcie enjoyed the
wicked sensation she got from the shows.

The film was typical, but Marcie hadn't seen many of the genre, so
it was semi-new to her.  The heroine was one of those
overdeveloped girls with a talent for misplacing her clothes. 
Half the film was about her trying to make her way home, without
anyone seeing that she was completely naked.  Marcie watched in
fascination as the girl, wrapped in a piece of old newspaper,
tried to take a taxi home.  The cabbie intentionally opened the
windows, and drove fast enough that the wind whipped the newspaper
off the girl, leaving her naked once again. And when they arrived,
she had another problem:  No clothes, no pockets.  No pockets, no
money.  She had to "pay" the cabbie some other way.

She watched the film to the crazy end, when she had to "convince"
her apartment manager to unlock her apartment for her, since she
seemed to have left her keys with her clothes.

It was nearly one in the morning when she finally shut the thing
off, and headed for bed.  She was supposed to stay in the guest
bedroom, but headed for the master bedroom instead.  She would
make the bed in the morning, and what the Winslows didn't know
wouldn't hurt them.

As she got ready for bed, she looked in the mirror for a long
time, comparing her body to the girl in the film.  She had a
reasonably good figure, with firm, high breasts and nicely rounded
hips. She didn't have the inhuman bust size of the porn-star, but
then nobody really did without surgery.  All in all, a nice body. 
The boys seemed to like her, but her parent wouldn't let her date
until she was 18.

Finally, she donned her nightclothes, and flopped on the kingsize
bed. Marcie fantasized a bit as she drifted off to sleep,
remembering the time some of the girls at school had pulled her
bathing suit bottom off at the pool, and made her chase them
around, trying to get it back.  She had been embarrassed, but it
had made her hot too. She tried to imagine what it would have been
like having to get home like that. It made her hotter. With the
combined heat of the film and her memories working between her
legs, she drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

"See, I told ya", Jim told his two friends as they watched the
babysitter leave the living room.  "I told ya she'd watch the
dirty movies."  Jim had discovered the twin's at their favorite
hiding space, and watched the TV with them until the movie ended. 
The old house had heating vents that faced each other, so if you
took the cover off of one, you could see out of the other.  And
the other, in this case, was in the stairwell and gave a perfect
view of the front room from the guest bedroom.  This was why he
liked to stay over here.  To watch the movies through that vent. 
But tonight, he had more in mind.

Silently, the three boys crept down the stairs, sliding most of
the way on the bannister to keep the stairs from creaking.  Moving
into the master bedroom, the three stood and gazed at the teenage
girl as she slept.  She had fallen asleep face down on top of the
covers, and her pose let the boys look all the way up her long
legs, right to the top.  She was wearing a loose, satiny slip, and
pink panties.

Slowly, the boys advanced to the head of the bed, standing to
either side. Under Jim's urging, the twins slowly slipped loops of
rope over the sleeping girl's hands, and gently drew them towards
the bedposts.  Once her hands were secured, Jim slowly did the
same to her feet, pulling the rope tight without actually moving
her feet.  Then the three stood, amazed at their own daring, as
they stared at their sleeping prisoner.  Then, they quietly left
the room, and went to bed.

* * * * *

Marcie awoke slowly, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and rolled
off the bed. At least, that was her intent.  Something was wrong
with her hands.  She pulled hard, then felt the noose on her wrist
pulling tighter with her efforts.  She was suddenly wide awake,
and began pulling at her restraints with some energy. Looking
around in frantic confusion, she saw her three young charges
standing in the room, watching her.  She struggled to rise to her
knees.

At a gesture from Jim, the twins took hold of the ropes that held
her ankles, and pulled on them, hard.  The girl's legs were drawn
out from under her, and she flopped on her face again.  In
seconds, they had pulled her legs straight out towards the
bedposts and secured them there.

"Let me go.", Marcie demanded.  "This isn't funny.  When I get
loose, you're gonna get it but good."  She continued to struggle,
but only succeeded in pulling the knots tighter.

Jim brought his hand down sharply on the babysitter's shapely
backside, not quite a slap, but enough to deliver its message. 
"When you get loose?  What are you going to do, spank us?  I guess
that means we shouldn't let you get loose."

The twins were afraid, so Jim continued, "If you tell on us, we'll
tell on you. We'll tell about the movie you watched last night,
and about you sleeping in here.  You'll get in trouble too."

Marcie squirmed uncomfortably, but didn't threaten any more. 
Perhaps it was the thought of losing her babysitting jobs. 
Perhaps it was the embarrassment of being caught and tied like
this by the children she was supposed to be in charge of.  For
whatever reason, she waited quietly.

Jimmy called his two co-conspirators together, and they huddled
together by the door.  Marcie strained to hear what they were
planning, but could only make out a murmur and some giggling.  The
twins ran from the room, destination unknown, while Jim stayed and
gazed at her near-naked form.

Marcie felt the bed shift as Jim climbed onto it with her, and
uncertainty began to gnaw at her.  She felt him begin to lift her
night-dress.

"What are you doing?", she half-yelled.  The only answer she got
was silence, and the sensation of her gown being piled up around
her neck and shoulders.

The twins came tumbling back into the room, filled with that
excitement that only comes from doing something you know you
aren't supposed to.  Their missions accomplished, they proudly
presented Jimmy with the things he had requested.

Marcy twisted her head one way, then the other in a vain attempt
to see what the boys were up to, but they were at the foot of the
bed, and she just couldn't twist far enough.

She didn't have to wonder for long.  She felt a light, feathery
touch on the exposed sole of her left foot, then an equally light
touch on her right foot. The sensation forced an involuntary
giggle out of her, the first of many.  The boys began to tickle
her in earnest, and she rewarded them for their efforts with
shrieks of laughter.

"Noooo.", she wailed, trying to control her breathing and suppress
the reaction. No such luck.  "Please, not that.  I can't stand
being tickled.  Pleeeeeese..." Her cry trailed off into a scream
of mirth as her tormentors redoubled their efforts.

Jim took one of the feathers, and began to work on the helpless
girl's ribs and sides.  Now Marcie understood why he had pulled
her nightgown up off of her back.  Jim sat straddling her soft
bottom, working her over with the feather and his fingers.

Marcie began to thrash around, trying to unseat the tickle maniac
on her back, but without success.  The only noticeable result of
her bouncing struggles was an unwanted one:  She felt the boy's
youthful member growing hard, even through his pants, as he rode
her bouncing bottom, pressing his growing cock into the crack of
her ass.

Marcie was in agony now.  Her sides were spasming, and her middle
was sore with the strain of the unrelenting assault.  Her face was
hot and red, flushed with laughter and embarrassment, and tears
were streaming from her eyes.

Then it was over.  Jim ordered the twins to the head of the bed,
then had Tommy untie her left hand.  She lay there for a moment,
trying to catch her breath, then tried to rise, pushing herself
off the bed with her free hand. Instantly, Jim began to tickle her
again.  She reached for him, intent on maihem, but he caught her
arm and pulled it into the small of her back.  She struggled, but
couldn't break his grip.  Her other hand was treated the same way,
and after a few minutes the boys had them bound behind her back.

Now the twins stood silently, watching their leader do the one
thing they would never dare to do.  Jim climbed off the bound
girl, and picked up the other item the boys had brought:  A pair
of scissors.

Marcie screamed when she felt the cold steel against her naked
thigh, knowing at once what was happening.  She twisted sideways,
trying to get loose, trying to escape, to do something.  Her
efforts were in vain, and she felt the shears close, felt the
elastic of her panties spring loose, and knew that the boys were
going to strip her.  A wail of despair escaped her lips as the
scissors closed again, cutting the other leg-hole and denuding her
completely.  By the time the boys had finished cutting her
nightgown off, she had stopped struggling, and lay weeping in
silence.

She knew what came next.  She shivered in anticipation, waiting
for the hands to touch, to invade.  She waited, but it didn't
come.  Looking up, she saw that the boys were simply looking at
her.  They were too young to know what to do next.  All they
wanted to do was look.

"Please, stop it.  Don't look at me like this.", she begged.  "I
won't tell. Just let me go.  I won't tell.  I promise.", she wept.

The boys stood in silence.  They really didn't know what to do
next.  They hadn't planned that far ahead.  Tommy got a pained
look on his face, and left the room.  Marcie heard the bathroom
door open and close.  Tony was looking uncomfortable too.

"What's wrong?", asked Jim, looking at Tony.

"It's my thing.", the boy explained in embarrassment.  "Sometimes
it gets hard, and then it hurts.  I wish it wouldn't do that.  Its
like I have to go pee, but I can't."

Jim laughed at his friend's innocence.  "Don't you know why that
happens?  What you're supposed to do when that happens?", he
asked.

Tony shook his head in silence.

"What do you think they do in those movies?", he asked again. 
Seeing Tony's wide-eyed look, Jim got brave.  He had a chance to
show off for his young friends.  "I'll show you.  Help me get her
up.", he instructed.

The two boys went over the the bound girl, grabbed her arms, and
slowly pulled her to her knees.  She didn't resist, even when Jim
sat down on the bed in front of her.

Jim kicked his shoes off, and began to slide his legs between the
naked girl's spread thighs.  Even if she had realized what was
happening, there was very little she could do about it.  Once he
was in position, he slipped his pants down, exposing his rigid
young manhood.

"Sit down on me", he ordered the girl.  She refused, drawing
herself as high and far from him as her bonds allowed.  Jim
reached up and grabbed a tit in each hand, pinching her nipples
hard.

Marcie gasped in pain as the boy roughly handled her tender
nipples, and found herself sinking down, trying to ease the strain
of his pull.  She felt the tip of his member touch the lips of her
pussy, and she recoiled.  She felt the boy respond by arching his
back, and pressing his tiny cock into the open folds of her cunt. 
It wasn't much of a penetration, but it did the job.  When he let
himself down, he pulled her down with him, so she ended up sitting
on top of his horny pelvis.

"Now, move around.  Like they do in the movies.", he ordered her. 
Again she refused, knowing there was no way he could pull her to
make that happen.

"I know how to make her wriggle.", Tommy volunteered.

Sitting the Sitter Chapter 2

Marcie gasped in pain as the boy roughly handled her tender
nipples, and found herself sinking down, trying to ease the strain
of his pull.  She felt the tip of his member touch the lips of her
pussy, and she recoiled.  She felt the boy respond by arching his
back, and pressing his tiny cock into the open folds of her cunt. 
It wasn't much of a penetration, but it did the job.  When he let
himself down, he pulled her down with him, so she ended up sitting
on top of his horny pelvis.

"Now, move around.  Like they do in the movies.", he ordered her. 
Again she refused, knowing there was no way he could pull her to
make that happen.

"I know how to make her wriggle.", Tommy volunteered.

Before Marcie could react, she felt the feather start on her
still-bound foot again.  She shrieked and jumped at the contact,
lifting off of the youthful rapists cock, then falling back again. 
The boy had been right.  In seconds she was screaming and
wriggling around on the boy's penis, effectively fucking herself
on him.  What was more, it soon became apparent that she was
responding.  There was a wetness between her legs that didn't come
from the boy.  Her own body was answering the penis inside her,
reacting to the handling, the tickling, everything.  She closed
her eyes, as if ignoring the rape and torment would somehow make
it end.

Marcie's eyes snapped open in response to a flash of light, bright
enough to penetrate her eyelids.  Tony was standing by the head of
the bed, camera in hand, snapping pictures of his naked babysitter
as she energetically fucked one of her charges.  She looked like
she wanted to die, and the shock and shame began to push her even
closer to orgasm.  She began to work faster, hoping the child
could last long enough to satisfy her.  Even as she felt the wave
inside building, Jim stiffened, and spurted his load inside her. 
She tried to finish herself before he could soften, but just
couldn't make it.  Tears of frustration added to the tears of
shame she was already weeping as she felt the boy withdraw and
wiggle out from under her.

"Do you need more?", Jim asked, seeing her condition.  She nodded
in silent shame.  Jim slipped his hand down between her splayed
thighs, and began to finger her slippery cunt.  His energy made up
for his lack of skill, and she began to cum.  He kept rubbing her
for nearly a minute, and she actually managed to cum a second time
before he stopped.

"Please", she whimpered.  "I can't take any more.  Untie me now. 
Please."

Jim finished cleaning himself off with the remains of her
nightgown, and considered her request.  She looked miserable. 
Walking behind her, he gave her a sharp push, and she fell
forward, bouncing face down on the bed.

Marcie felt a sharp slap on her backside, followed by another. 
Soon, all three of the boys were taking turns spanking her bare
bottom.  They weren't hitting her very hard, but the pain added to
the humiliation.  She was found herself getting hot again, but
couldn't help it.

Jim was enjoying himself, watching his babysitter's naked bottom
jiggle like a bowl of jello with each smack.  Even better, she had
stopped crying out at the spanking, and had started to moan, like
the girls in the movies.  He knew that she was going to want him
to rub her again.

"What if we tickle her furry spot", asked one of the boys, staring
at the dark junction of the helpless girl's legs.

"Oh God, no", Marcie pleaded.  "Please, you can't.  Not there."

If there was a doubt in Jim's mind, Marcie's pleas convinced him. 
Taking a feather in hand, he began to stroke it up and down the
naked girl's spread slot.  The other feather soon came into play
across her bottom and lower ribs, and she was soon consumed by
something more powerful than laughter.  The forced mirth she had
suffered had left her breathless and sore.  But this was worse. It
wasn't just the embarrassment that was making her hot, it was
being compounded by the mad sensations coming from her crotch. 
She twisted and squirmed, humping herself up and down in a vain
attempt to find an escape. Neither freedom from the ropes, nor the
release of orgasm was to be had.  All she could do was lay there
and endure.

Finally Marcie couldn't take any more.  "Please, stop it."  She
waited, but the giggling boys paid no attention.  She could feel
her juices flowing, and knew that she was leaving a damp spot on
the bedspread.  Maybe that was the way out. "Please", she
repeated.  "I have to go to the bathroom, and I don't want to wet
the bed."

That stopped the boys cold.  None of them could conceive of
helping her at the toilet, and they knew they would be skinned by
their parents if she made a mess on the bed.  Slowly, they untied
her feet, and lead her to the bathroom.  Jim went inside first,
and came out with an armload of towels.  Then he moved the bound
girl inside and closed the door almost all the way.  Reaching
through the partly open door, he untied her hands, then slammed
the door and tried his best to hold it closed.

Marcie looked around.  No window.  No towel to wrap herself in. 
Not even a washcloth. She went ahead and used the toilet, because
she didn't know if she would have the chance again anytime soon. 
As she sat there, she began to rub her love bud, trying to relieve
the itch she felt.  After a few minutes she came, but knew that
she would get hot all over again once they boys resumed their
games.

Escape?  Marcie knew she was bigger than any of them, and could
beat them all if she needed to. 

She tried the door, and found that the boys were trying to hold it
closed. Bracing herself, she pulled on the doorknob, hard.  Jim
and the twins were yanked into the room, and fell in the doorway
in a pile.

"Ok, boys, the game is over.", she announced to the scrambling
pile of children.  "I'm going to get dressed, and then I'm calling
your parents.  You guys are in trouble."

Jim disentangled himself slowly, and rose to face her.  Without a
word, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a picture.

Marcie looked at the photo he held.  It showed her straddling the
body of a juvenile boy.  His face didn't show.  One of her feet
was off the edge of the picture, and her body blocked the other. 
You couldn't see her hands, the ropes that held her, or the
feather that tormented her.  What you could see was the huge,
laughing smile on her face.  She looked like she was having a hell
of a good time.

"There are three like this.", he said quietly.  "You tell on us,
and we let people see these."

Marcie looked at the picture again.  The tiny penis was clearly
visible entering her cunt.  It's hairless state was evidence
enough that the owner was under age.  "What do you want?", she
asked in a subdued voice.

Jim smiled softly.  He would have let the game end, but her answer
suggested that they could get more.  He watched her as she tried
to cover herself.  She was trying not to make it obvious, but
there wasn't any way she could cross one arm over her breasts, and
hang the other between her legs, and have it look natural.

"Well, it's almost lunch time.", Jim said.  "Let's have something
to eat, out by the pool, and cool off a bit."

Marcie heaved a sigh of relief, now that it was over.  She picked
up her gym bag, and began to get some clothes out.

Jim watched the naked girl for a moment, then reached a decision. 
Placing a hand on hers, he stopped her from getting dressed.  "Put
on your bathing suit.", he half ordered her.  She looked at him
for a long moment, trying to guess his intentions, then complied. 
Her bikini was a bit skimpy, but it was more than she had on now.

By the time Marcie had gotten dressed, the boys were already in
their trunks, playing out by the pool.  She went into the kitchen,
and began making lunch. She hadn't had any breakfast, so she made
herself an extra sandwich, and drank an extra half-glass of soda
while she worked.  She debated whether it was better to take the
tray outside, or call the boys inside.  She decided to eat by the
pool, figuring that if she needed to call for help, somebody might
hear her out there.

The kids were busy playing like, well, like kids, splashing each
other, screaming and doing cannon-balls into the pool.  Nobody
seeing them would think that they had spent the entire morning
molesting and raping their babysitter. When they saw the food,
they swarmed the table, like kids everywhere.

Marcie grabbed her food, topped off her glass, and settled down on
a lounge chair.  She ate her lunch in peace, and began to think
that it really was over.

By the time she had finished her lunch, she had almost managed to
deal with her ordeal.  Then, Jim came over, and told her she was
going to get a "good tan" today.  His tone, and the evil look on
his face brought the nightmare back into focus.

"Sit up, and turn towards the pool", he ordered her.  Slowly she
did.  Jim stepped behind her, and began to tug at the ties on her
bikini top.  Marcie squirmed and protested, but he ignored her,
intent upon his plan.

Marcie felt weird as the boy untied and retied her top, and she
clutched at the fabric portion to keep him from undressing her
completely.  By the time he was through, he had shortened the tie
around her neck, and loosened the one around her back, so the
triangles of fabric were pulled halfway up her breasts.  Soft
flesh was ballooning out the bottom on each side, threatening to
pop out completely at any sudden movement.

"Now, lie back down, and give me your hands", he ordered.  Marcie
knew what was coming, but went along anyway.  She had no choice
while he had the pictures. Jim tied her hands over her head,
securing them to the frame of the chair. Then with a malicious
playfulness, he began to tickle her exposed ribs.

Marcie jumped, and squirmed involuntarily as the boy's fingers
dragged the laughter from her once more.  "Stop it", she squealed,
trying again to twist away from the torturous touch.

Jim enjoyed tickling the bound girl, but had more than that in
mind.  He worked her over, first on one side than the other, until
he got what he wanted.  One bounce of her body, and her left tit
flowed out the bottom of her bikini.

Marcie squealed even more when she felt her tit pop free, and
struggled to cover herself.  No good.  "Please.", she begged,
looking around at the neighbor's houses.  "Somebody will see."

"If you stop yelling, nobody will even look.", came the smirking
reply.  Then Jim simply got up and went to play in the pool.

Marcie was glad of the relief, and continued to work on the ropes
that held her wrists.  She couldn't figure out Jim, who had worked
so hard to get her top loose, then didn't even look.

After about half an hour, Jim came over and untied Marcie's
wrists.  "Looks like you're done on this side", he announced. 
"Don't want you to burn." Turning her over, he re-tied her face
down, with her arms secured to the sides of the lounge.  Once he
had her in place, he carefully took hold of her pants and slowly,
deliberately pulled them down, exposing almost all of her plush
bottom.  Again, she protested, and again her protests were
ignored.

After another half hour, he came and released her.  "That tan
ought to get a few remarks.", he laughed.

Marcie looked down at herself in shock.  She hadn't considered the
tan line her exposure would cause.  She had a clear outline of her
top across one tit, and up onto her shoulder.  Anyone who saw her
would know that she had been sunbathing semi-topless.  She
couldn't see, but could imagine the tan across her butt, perfect
proof of what had happened.  She couldn't go outside in a bathing
suit any more.  The girls at school would razz her terribly if
they saw her in the showers.  Oh God, what was she going to do?

Marcie fled the poolside, followed by the laughter of three boys. 
Grabbing her gym bag, she quickly got some clothes out, and began
to get dressed.  She selected the only set she had, other than the
ones she had worn yesterday.  She looked at the short skirt,
wishing it was longer.  Nobody could see anything, of course, but
a sexy outfit might give the boys more ideas.  The blouse was
plain white, with short sleeves, and could be buttoned up to the
throat.

Jim watched Marcie run inside, her pants-down tan visible on her
legs, even when she had her pants on right.  This was more fun
than he had planned.  She hadn't seen the pictures, or the tan
trick coming.  With a final evil plan in mind, he followed her
inside.  Finding her in the process of getting dressed, he
interrupted her.

"That looks nice", he told her, startling the shaken girl.  "But
it would look so much better if you left the bra and panties off."

"Why?  Nobody is gonna see my underwear anyway.", she protested,
fearing the worst.

"I know.", he replied.  "But I like the idea of you, bare-naked
under the skirt.  And your breasts will poke through that blouse
just right.  Mr. Winslow will probably give you a big tip.  He
likes to look at pretty girls, you know. That's why they have
those movie channels."

Marcie moved away from Jim, placing the bed between them for
security.  Then, reaching under her blouse, she unhooked her bra
and took it off.  She knew that Jim would be disappointed that she
didn't take her blouse off to do this, but he had seen all of her
she wanted him to see.  She turned to face him, and pulled her
panties off, again making sure that he couldn't see anything.  She
placed the underthings in her bag, along with last night's clothes
and the remains of her nightgown.

Then, under Jim's watchful eye, she carefully made the bed and
tidied the room, making it look like nothing had happened.  She
was just finishing when the twins tumbled into the room yelling,
"They're here.  Mom and Dad are home early."

Marcie felt a lump in her throat.  She wasn't going to tell what
had happened. Jim wouldn't tell.  She didn't know about the twins.

She needn't have worried.  Jim already had them coached.  They
were the very image of innocence when the Winslows came in.  Jim
even helped with their bags.

Marcie never knew how she got through the conversation that
followed. The Winslows were cheerful and happy, and asked cheerful
and happy questions in cheerful and happy voices.  Later on,
Marcie couldn't remember what they had said, or what her answers
had been.  Mr. Winslow did stare at her braless chest as he paid
her, and did indeed give her a large tip.  She hardly noticed.

Once outside, on her way home, she felt as if a nightmare had
ended.  Getting caught would have made that nightmare real.  At
the end of the driveway, Jim was waiting.

"Jim", she began.  "That was incredible.  Even wilder than last
time."

"Yeah", Jim replied with a mad grin.  "I think it was the pictures
that did it. They made it even crazier."

"Speaking of pictures, lets have them.", she ordered sternly.

"Maybe I should keep one.", he joked as he handed the packet over. 
"That way, I could make you run home naked, like the girl in that
movie."

The thought made Marcie flush, and started her itching again. 
"Maybe next time", she said.  "At night, when we can do it without
getting caught."

"Ok", he agreed.  "Who are you babysitting next week?"

"I don't know yet.  But if its the..."

The conversation trailed off as the two planned their next game,
together.

The Partners


Prologue
========

    Mitch climbed up the four wooden, creaky steps leading to the
front porch of his seventy-five year old Cape Cod cottage which was
set quite a way back from the single lane road which led to Mitch's
property.  Working in a downtown law firm as he did, Mitch regarded it
as quite a coup when the two acre lot with the handyman special
cottage in the country came on the market.  Granted, it was some
thirty miles or so from the downtown law office where Mitch worked,
but if he left early enough, he could usually beat the early morning
rush hour traffic.  It was a small house, nothing luxurious by any
stretch of the imagination, just a single story home with an eat-in
kitchen, living room, two bedrooms, one bathroom and an unfinished
basement.  One day, he would fix it up, but for now it sufficed as a
refuge from the city where he spent most of his time during the week
and on the occasional weekend. 


    Besides, he didn't buy it for the house; he bought it because
it was affordable and tucked away in the woods where he could enjoy
the peaceful clean air.  The house gave him the best of both worlds.
It was nice and secluded, but convenient for his daily commute since
the expressway, which led to the city in one direction and to New
England in the other, was only five miles away.  On the downside,
since the town had zoning laws that required all property lots to be
at least two acres, he rarely saw his neighbors so he was
occasionally lonely.


    It was early Saturday morning and Mitch had just biked roughly
ten miles, a lot more than he was used to riding, but it was worth it.
He breathed deep as he peddled from the mall ten miles away back to
his sleepy little cottage in the woods.  As he unlocked the door to
his home with a key that hung from a chain draped around his neck,
Mitch gave a backward glance to his bicycle, which was propped against
the wooden railing on the left side of the porch. No need to lock it
up or put it back in the detached garage behind the cottage.  This was
the country and crime here was minuscule.  Besides, even if he was
worried about theft, which he wasn't, the house was set so far from
the road that no one could see the small cottage let alone the racing
bike that was left out front.


    As he entered the living room of his home, he wiped the sweat
from his brow. The bike ride had been longer than usual and took him
up many more hills than his normal weekend riding routine.  Still, he
was satisfied with the morning's accomplishment because, he admitted
to himself, not only was the ten mile trek pretty impressive, but,
after a quick shower, the efforts of his unplanned labor would be
rewarded.  It was a holiday weekend so he had three days away from the
office to just relax and enjoy his country home.


    He closed the door behind him and shouted across the living
room in the direction of the bedroom.  "Hey, Wendy. I'm back. The bike
ride took longer than I thought but I'm finally back.  Everything okay
while I was gone?"

Silence.  "You all right, honey?" he asked again.


    Receiving no reply, he walked across the living room and
opened the door to the master bedroom.  There on the bed, scantily
clad only in sky blue bikini panties, was a thin girl with brownish
blonde hair worn in a chignon.  Thegirl was face down on Mitch's bed,
her ankles tied tightly with white nylon cord to her thighs with each
of her hands tied in turn to the opposite ankle.
She was face down with her backside in the air and as Mitch entered
the room, she looked up at him and he saw that the black handball he
had packed in her mouth was still in place, held there by some white
surgical tape from Mitch's first aid kit.  She looked at him with
pleading blue eyes, eyes that betrayed a hint of anger. 


    "Oh, I'm sorry, Wendy," he laughed.  "I forgot.  You're all
tied and gagged. Well," he said with a trace of sarcasm.  "If
everything's not all right now, I'm sure it will be as soon as I take
my shower.  See you in a few."

 


    The bound girl shuddered as she contemplated the ominous words
her captor spoke before leaving the bedroom for the shower across the
hall.  She struggled and tried to scream but the ropes and gag
effectively kept her still and silent.  She still could not believe
this was happening to her and, as she heard the running water and
Mitch humming happily in the shower her mind took her back to the
events of just several hours ago.


    * * * *


    Wendy King was a junior associate at Mitch's law firm.  Five
years younger than Mitch, he was assigned to be her mentor when she
came to the law firm three years ago.  They occasionally flirted but,
because of the firm's anti-fraternization policy, their relationship
never went beyond the flirting stage although each knew that there was
some attraction between them.  At first.


    Gradually, after about a year and a half at the firm, their
relationship soured.  Mitch could not point to any one thing that led
to the change in their circumstances but for some reason Wendy became
distant and, to some degree, nasty toward him.  He could not imagine
what he had done to provoke such a change in her attitude but he tried
to maintain some degree of civility with her since they would be
working together and it wasn't that big of an office.  Later, he was
somewhat mollified to learn from other young attorneys in the firm
that they, too, had been experiencing the "cold shoulder" routine
from Wendy.  In fact, many of the office's personnel, especially the
women (lawyers and secretaries both), came to dislike Wendy who they
thought displayed a moral superiority attitude toward them.


    On the day of her capture, Mitch was outside his cottage
raking leaves.  It was mid-October and recent rains had washed most
but not all of the leaves from the many trees surrounding his house.
Mitch got up early to do some outdoors work and was almost done raking
the wet leaves when he saw a red Jeep Cherokee similar to his own pull
up the driveway leading to his house.  He was not expecting visitors
and was surprised to see that his unannounced guest was
none other than Wendy King.


    She climbed down from the driver's seat and without even a
wave, walked up to Mitch and announced, "I've quit."


    Mitch leaned against his rake and simply replied, "Nice to see
you too.  But what the hell are you talking about?"


    Wendy, who was wearing dark blue lycra leggings, a long
sleeved white T-shirt emblazoned with the Nike logo on it and white
sneakers of the same brand answered, "The firm.  I quit the firm last
night."


    Mitch shook his head, took a deep breath and let it out
slowly.  "Why tell me?  You haven't spoken to me in months about
anything that didn't relate to a case we were working on so what makes
you think I care if you quit."


    "I don't care what you think, Mitch," she answered with an
obnoxious, pissy tone of voice.  "But I need you to do me a favor and
return the firm's laptop that I had at my apartment.  I forgot to
bring it in when I spoke to Henderson and I don't want to be accused
of stealing it."


    Henderson, Mitch knew, was the firm's managing partner.  A
real son of a bitch who probably would have accused Wendy of stealing
the computer if he was sufficiently pissed about her decision to quit.
Mitch let out another deep breath and said, "C'mon in and tell me
about it.  I've got a pot of coffee brewing."  With that, he began
walking up the steps and into the house. 


    "You know I don't drink coffee," she said. 


    "Fine," replied Mitch through gritted teeth.  "I'll make you a
cup of tea. Just take your sneakers off so you don't track dirt
inside."


    She shrugged her shoulders, grabbed the laptop from the
passenger's seat of the Jeep and followed him inside, leaving her
sneakers on the porch as he did himself.  He motioned for her to sit
on the couch in the sparsely decorated living room -- a real bachelor
pad, she thought -- and waited for him to bring her the coffee.  A few
minutes later, Mitch handed Wendy a cup of tea.  "What a bitch," he
thought to himself.


    After a few awkward moments of silence, Mitch broke the ice
and asked, "So what happened?"


    She pursed her lips and answered, "I quit."


    Exasperated, Mitch said, "You already told me that.  Why'd you
quit?  Better job offer come along?  What?"


    She shook her head.  "Nope.  I am now free and unemployed."


    "Well, that wasn't so smart," he responded.


    She gave him an annoyed look and said, "Not that it's any of
your business but I decided that the law just wasn't for me.  I've
been unhappy for a while and simply decided that if I'm not happy
doing what I'm doing then there's no point.  I'm tired of the long
hours, lack of gratitude from the powers that be, pitiful cost of
living raises and, basically, the people at Henderson & Sloan have
been getting on my nerves.  Present company excepted, of course."
She gave a guilty smile to cover her Freudian slip.


    Mitch smirked, "Yeah, right."  He looked at her and asked, "So
how'd Henderson take it."  The man did not like surprises and Wendy
quitting was completely unexpected.  She'd been ambitious from her
first day and worked hard and played the game of office politics all
with one goal in mind -- to become a partner at the firm.  Henderson
and everyone else at the firm knew this was her aim.  It was actually
a running joke because as ambitious as she was, she was still very
naive about a lot of things.


    "He wasn't happy and he let me know that he was not happy.
That's why I want you to bring the laptop back for me.  I wouldn't put
it past the prick to accuse me of stealing it."


    "That's it?  He didn't try to woo you back with more money or
a better office?"  Henderson did that once before, Mitch recalled.


    "Actually, he did.  In fact, he told me to take a week off to
get my bearings and then come back after I'd thought things through
carefully.  As if that would make me change my mind."  She sipped her
tea, stood up and walked around Mitch's living room, checking out his
magazine rack and the titles on his bookshelves.  "I figured, what the
hell.  Might as well take the week as vacation and then just not show
up next Monday."
   
Mitch laughed.  Henderson would love that.  "So where are you going?"


    "Well, it was kind of short notice so it's not like I could
book a flight to Florida to see my parents or go anywhere like that
without paying a fortune in airfare.  So, I got in the truck, drove
around and decided to go toMassachusetts for the week to a yoga clinic
I've gone to in the past.  It's a neat place.  You don't need a
reservation or anything.  You just show up, pay for room and board and
leave when you're ready."


    "Sounds very spur of the moment."


    "It's the new me," she answered.  "You're place was on the
way, so I just figured I'd drop by and leave the computer with you."


    "You should have called first,"  he said.  "I'd have cleaned
the place up a little and picked up some donuts or something."


    "Sorry," she said.  "Cell phone's not working and, like I
said, I didn't decide to do the yoga thing till I was already on the
road."


    She continued to walk around the living room, checking out
Mitch's things when she spied a silver object lying on an end table.
Handcuffs.  She picked them up and dangled them before Mitch's face.
"What are you doing with these? I didn't know you were into kinky
stuff," she teased.


    "Give me those," he growled as he angrily grabbed them from
her.


    "Seriously," she said, "What are you doing with handcuffs?"


    "It's for a trick I've been practicing.  Watch."  He put a
cuff on one wrist put his hands behind his back and cuffed it around
the other wrist.  "It's easy," he explained as he twisted his
shoulders and arms until his hands came free of the cuffs.


    "Pretty impressive," she answered sarcastically. 


    "Want to try it yourself?" he innocently asked as the seeds of
a plan crept into his mind.


    "Sure.  How hard can it be?"  She took the cuffs from him and,
following his lead, put them on her right wrist and then brought both
hands behind her back to cuff the left wrist.  "Watch," she said.  "If
you can do it, so can I."


    Mitch shook his head.  "I don't think so because unlike you, I
had an advantage.  I had the key palmed in my hand."  He gave her a
smile.


    A look of anger flashed across her face.  "That's cheating and
hardly real magic."


    "Who said anything about magic, Wendy?  I said it was for a
trick I'd been practicing, not magic.  And look here, you've been
tricked."


    She got redder in the face and angrily screamed at him, "Take
these damned things off of me."


    He smiled again and slowly shook his head.  "I don't think
so," has said with a sing-song lilt in his voice.


    Slowly, she became afraid.  "Please let me go, Mitch.  Please.
You won't get away with this," she pleaded.


    He slowly approached her and gently stroked her face with his
right hand. "Yes I will.  You already told me that you quit the firm
and were going on a vacation where you won't be missed if you don't
check in.  This is perfect. All I have to do is put my bicycle in the
back of your Jeep, drive it to the mega mall and leave the Jeep there
unlocked and with the keys in the ignition. How long do you think
it'll be till it's stolen?  An hour?  Then, I bike back here and we
have us a good old time.  No, Wendy, you're wrong.  I've already
gotten away with it."


    As she took in his words, she realized that she was in real
trouble.  Without even thinking, she lurched away from him and started
running for the front door.  She could not move quickly though because
of the handcuffs and it was simple for Mitch to run after her and pull
her back into the room. 

"No, no, no, Wendy.  Can't have any of that," he said as he reached
into the end table where she had found the handcuffs and pulled out
several lengths of cord.


    "What are you doing?"


    "Something I've wanted to do for quite a while, bitch."  He
rolled her onto the floor and laid her on her back.  With her cuffed
hands behind her, she was in a very uncomfortable position and it hurt
her as the weight of her body rested on her trapped hands.  Mitch
climbed on top of her and lifted her Nikeshirt to expose her powder
blue bra.  "Well, this has to go," he said as he carefully unclasped
the five little hooks of the brassiere which he removed to
expose her smaller than expected breasts.


    "Always thought these were bigger," he stated.  "Guess those
wonder bras and tight blouses you wore to work really exaggerate
things.  Still, there's enough here for me to have some fun."  He
began to massage her tits gently at first and then more and more
roughly.  She cringed under him and tears welled
up in her eyes as he stopped rubbing her and used his fingers to flick
each of her nipples until he grew tired on that and began to lick them
with his tongue.


    She whimpered below him, begging him to stop and let her go,
but he would have none of it.  Then, without warning, he popped a
small black handball in her mouth to stifle her whining and secured it
there with an adequate amount of white surgical tape from the first
aid kit he kept in the kitchen.  "I don't imagine that gag tastes so
good," Mitch said, "but don't worry, darling. I'm going to replace it
with a sweeter gag a little later."


    He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost 9:30 a.m.
"Well, I'm going to have to leave for a while and get your Jeep over
to the mall.  Luckily, your truck is similar to mine so no one will
think anything of it if any of the people in the ares see me driving
your red Jeep."  She grunted a protest from behind the gag but it went
nowhere. 


    "First things first though," he said as he hefted her to her
feet.  "Let's lose the shirt."  He used a pair of scissors from the
first aid kit and made short work of her Nike shirt.  She now stood
topless before him and he smiled as he admired his handiwork.  "This
sure beats raking leaves," he laughed as he picked up the thin girl
and carried her toward the bedroom.


    "I figure it's going to take me a few hours to bicycle back
here from the mall so I need to make sure you'll be here when I get
back," he said as he gently placed her on her back on the unmade bed.
He looked at her and frowned.  "You're still overdressed, Wendy."  He
then suddenly grasped the waistline of her blue lycra pants and pulled
them off to reveal her powder blue thong bikini bottoms which matched
her already removed bra.  Mitch stood over her, again admiring his
work.  "Oh, yeah," he said, feeling his already hard cock get even
harder.  "We are going to have a good time."  He patted her
panties and slid his fingers under the sheer fabric and let them run
through her bush.  She shuddered as she braced herself for his probing
fingers to penetrate her, but it didn't happen.  "Plenty of time for
that later," he chided.


    He thought about how to best secure her while he was gone.
The idea quickly came to him and he flipped her onto her belly.  He
gently lowered the bluepanties to give himself a nice view of her bare
butt.  She squirmed on the bed and tried to twist her head to see him.
As she did so, he kissed each of her ass cheeks before letting his
tongue slip between her cheeks to lick the crack of her ass.  This, he
noticed, caused goose bumps to appear on Wendy's back.
"Like that, eh?" he asked.  She struggled and violently shook her head
as she continued to try to scream at him behind the effective gag. 


    As much as he wanted to continue, Mitch reminded himself that
there was still work to be done.  He replaced the panties and removed
her white tennis socks. She now lay face down, naked on his bed except
for the blue panties which he knew he would be removing for good soon
enough.  He grabbed some of the white cord and tied it around her
ankles and tied each ankle to her thighs.  As he did so, he noticed
that white lint from her tennis socks was stuck between her
toes.  He looked at his watch again, said to himself, "Still have a
little time, so why not?" and began to lick her sweaty feet to remove
all of the lint.  He breathed in deeply the fumes from her feet as he
continued to lick the soles of her feet and run his tongue between her
toes.  Her struggling made it all the more exciting for him and he
felt his bulge grow still harder as if it was about to explode.
"Plenty of time for that later," said aloud as he stopped his licking
and turned back to the girl on the bed.


    "You still look too comfortable, so let's try something
different."  He tied rope around each of her wrists before rolling her
over onto her back and sitting her up.  He then used the key to unlock
the hand cuffs.  He was stronger than her and she was completely
overwhelmed so it was easy for him to take each rope tied wrist and
secure them to the opposite ankles.  When he was
through, she was sitting up, tied in a ball.  "Not bad," Mitch said.


    "Well, sweetie, I'll be back.  Do stick around," he told her
as he pushed her so she was bent over with her ass in the air.  Then,
he left.


    * * * * *


    Wendy lay in that same position for what seemed like hours.
She had quickly realized that Mitch had known exactly how to secure
her, but still she struggled to get free.  As she tried again in vain
to loosen her bonds, she shuddered in fear.  She no longer heard the
sound of running water. 

The shower had stopped.


    "Hey, honey," Mitch said as he towel dried his body, making
certain that the helpless female attorney had a bird's-eye view of his
swollen member.  "Still here, I see."  He slapped her elevated rump
playfully once and then harder the second time and still harder for a
third time.  The sting of each slap caused tears filled the girl's
eyes again.  Mitch saw this and gave her a light kiss on the nose.

"Don't cry, sweet thing.  It won't all be painful.  I promise. See?
I can be nice.  Let me undo those wrists."

He placed her on her back and then fulfilled his promise by untying
her wrists from her ankles.  She looked up at him thankfully, glad to
be in a different position and even happier to be able to rub the
circulation back in her hands.  Mitch saw her look from him to her
ankles which were still securely tied to her thighs and said,

"Sorry, baby, no can do.  The ankles stay just as they are.  I like
seeing that cute tush of your like that." 

    Wendy continued to rub her wrists to get the circulation going
and absently placed her untied hands by her mouth.  Mitch saw what she
was doing and grabbed her hands. 

"See what happens when you try to be nice?" he taunted. "You give an
inch and she takes a yard."  He looked down at her sternly and raised
his voice to a near scream, "Who the hell told you to take the gag
off? If I want the fucking gag off, I'll take it off!"  Anger danced
across his face as he once again flipped her on her stomach, pulled
the ropes that were attached to each of her wrists and strictly tied
them to the bed's posts.

    His tone softened as unexpectedly as it had hardened seconds
before.

"Wendy," said Mitch.  "You really must try harder to not piss me off.
Okay?"

She nodded.  "Good girl.  Now, do you want a drink of water?"  She
nodded again.  "Okay, but you have to promise not to scream.  Not that
it'd do you any good because it's quite a distance to the nearest
neighbor, but screaming will definitely make me mad.  You promise?"

She nodded for a third time and he nodded back to her before reaching
to peel the white surgical tape from her mouth.  When all of the tape
was removed, he told her to stay still until he got back with her
water.  He was still buck naked with a raging hard-on.

    She was tempted to spit out the black handball but,
remembering the brief spanking she had just received, decided to bide
her time for now and behave. Sooner or later, she thought, an
opportunity to escape this hell she found herself would arise.  Mitch
quickly returned with a glass of ice water and a straw.  He reached
his index finger in her mouth and popped the ball free. Wendy coughed
a few times and tried to get the saliva running again.  The ball had
tasted horrible and the foul taste remained with her even though the
gag was out of her mouth.

  "Here," said Mitch, offering her the straw so she could sip the
water.

    "Thank you," she said between sips from the straw.

    "Your welcome," he replied.

    When she was done drinking, she looked at him and hesitated
before speaking in a low, calm voice.  "Mitch, please let me go."

    "No way, baby.  No way."

    "You can't keep me a prisoner forever," she stated.

    "Why not?  No one even knows your missing.  And, by the time
someone files a missing person report and finds your Jeep, they'll
just assume you were carjacked by some serial killer or something.
Face it, Wendy, you are mine."

    She began to cry again as the impact of Mitch's words were
driven home. Could he be right?  Would anyone miss her? And if so,
would they think she was a captive in Mitch's isolated cottage?  Doubt
filled her mind and the tears began to flow again.  "Well, what are
you going to do to me?"  She knew the answer but felt she had to ask
the question anyway.

    Mitch laughed aloud and smacked her ass again.  "Anything I
want, sweetie. Anything I want."  He offered her another sip of the
water but she shook her head.  Mitch shrugged and put the glass on the
dresser.  "Like I said, I'm going to do anything I want to you and you
know what I want now, Wendy?" he asked as he cupped her chin in his
hands.  She stared up at him but remained silent.  "I want you to suck
my cock."  And as he completed the sentence, he pulled her chin down,
causing her to gasp in surprise and open her mouth wide enough for him
to plunge his throbbing dick in it.  "See, honey?  I told you that I'd
gag you with something sweeter than that old handball. But, let me
warn you, Wendy.  I better not feel any teeth or you will really be
sorry."

    He thrust in and out of her mouth.  For some reason though he
was disappointed.  He thought Wendy would have been much better at
giving a blow job but she really seemed like a novice to him.  Not
that he didn't enjoy it, but he thought she'd have been a little more
skilled.  "Oh, well," he thought. "She'll learn."  He smiled as he
planted his hands on each side of her ass and continued to fuck her
mouth.  She tried to accommodate his massive cock and for her own
comfort get into the rhythm of Mitch's thrusting, but he was too big
and she found herself gagging.  She barely heard Mitch as he whispered
to her to keep sucking as she concentrated on trying to breathe while
his swollen cock choked her.  She prayed that he would stop but her
prayers went unanswered.

    After a while, Mitch eased off on his thrusting.  He knew he
was ready to explode but he was holding back.  He had something else
in mind.  "Wendy," he said, "Don't move."  She stayed still and felt a
cold metal against her backside.  Snip!  Mitch had produced a pair of
scissors and cut away her powder blue panties.  He raised them to his
face, saw that they were somewhat stained and very wet, and deeply
inhaled their aroma.  The panties were a lot moister than they were
when he had first stripped and tied her. 

    "Cool!  Now, check this out, bitch" he said as he slid his
dick from her mouth.  "Look how wet these panties are.  I think you're
enjoying this as much as I am."  He held the panties by her face,
certain that she, too, was smelling her sex on them.  She looked up at
him, eyes blazing with anger, and defiantly spit on the floor.  Mitch
laughed. 

    The captive girl looked him square in the eye and said, "I
hate you!  I really . . .  aargh."  Her words were trapped in her
throat -- trapped behind the soiled panties that Mitch suddenly shoved
deep in her mouth.  He filled her mouth with the panties, laughing as
he did so. 

    "Suck on that for a while, bitch."  He looked at the naked
struggling girl and felt himself becoming aroused again.  He still had
not cum but he knew that would change shortly.  Wendy moaned behind
the new gag and swung her lower body back and forth.  It looked funny
to Mitch because he had tied her so her ass was still in the air with
her feet tied to her thighs.

    "You know something, bitch?" he asked as he moved behind her
to better admire her pale white ass.  "I was thinking.  You know how
you used to strut around the office like you were the lord's gift to
litigation?  Like your shit didn't smell?  Everyone used to wonder if
you had a stick up your ass.  Well, let's test that theory."  He
quickly thrust his index finger between her exposed cheeks and into
her waiting asshole.  She writhed in pain at this unexpected attack.
"Nope," he said as he probed with his finger.  "No stick up there." He
laughed cruelly as he plunged his rock hard member into her asshole.
"No stick.  Just my dick." 

    He thrust in her, savoring her tightness and enjoying her
struggling which only seemed to excite him more.  In and out.  Deeper
and deeper.  She cried and threw her bottom up and down like a bucking
bronco, but Mitch held on and kept himself firmly planted in her
backside.  Suddenly, he knew he was ready to explode.  He pulled
himself out of her ass, scurried around to the front of the bed and
pulled the panties from her mouth.  Wendy lay sprawled on the bed,
exhausted.  She opened her mouth to take a deep breath, but by the
time she saw what Mitch was up to, it was too late.  As she inhaled
deeply to breath clean air, he once again thrust his dick in her
mouth.  She choked and gagged on his cock, which, she sickeningly
remembered had only seconds ago been up her ass.  Her torment
increased as she involuntarily sucked on his dirty cock which
violently exploded in her mouth sending a long steady stream of semen
down her throat.

    When he was finally spent, Mitch removed his dick from her
mouth and wiped it on her panties.  He then stuffed them back in her
mouth and secured it there with a small length of cord.  The helpless
female attorney lay sprawled on the bed, gasping and sobbing.  "Not a
bad way to start the morning," said Mitch, who was now wearing a
bathrobe.  "Hey, Wendy," he laughed.  "How would you like to see the
rest of my house?  Let's go check out the basement."  He scooped her
up in his arms and carried her out of the bedroom.


Mitch carried Wendy's limp body across the living room to the basement
door, pulled a string at the top of the steps to turn on one of the
two lights in his basement and carefully made his way down the
thirteen steps to the dank, dark cellar of his house.  The girl, whose
ankles were still tied to her thighs, was aware of what was happening
and where she was being taken, but, weak from her ordeal, she did not
struggle.  When he finished his descent into the basement, he placed
her on the cold floor and moved carefully away, deeper into the
darkness of the cellar, in search of the other pull string light. When
he found it and turned it on, Wendy saw that the basement was like any
other unfinished cellar she had seen -- filled with the clutter one
accumulates over a lifetime.

    From her position at the bottom of the steps where Mitch had
laid her down, she could not see Mitch who was on the far side of the
room making certain that the four small windows there were covered so
no one on the outside could see what was happening on the inside.
Satisfied, he then rummaged around the cellar until he found an old,
stained mattress leaning against the wall.  He pulled it into the
center of the room, closer to the second light and placed it on the
floor of an area that was relatively free from clutter.  He swept away
some cob webs that were on top of the mattress and began rummaging
around the basement for something else, an old desk from his college
apartment.  Made of solid wood and standing at just below waist knee
level, Mitch thought it would do nicely for his purposes.  He carried
it to the center of the room and placed the mattress on top of it.  He
then shoved several books beneath the center of the mattress so that
it was raised like a hump.

    When he was through, he returned to his naked captive who was
shivering on the cold floor of the basement.  He effortlessly picked
her up and laid her facing up on the mattress covered coffee table.
Apparently, Wendy had recovered a bit because she began making noises
that Mitch could not understand.  He ignored her and proceeded to tie
her arms to two of the desks legs.  He then untied her ankles and tied
them tightly to the desk's other legs.  He had enjoyed seeing her
naked ass as it jutted out when her ankles were tied snugly to her
thighs and knew he would eventually return her to that position.  When
he was sure that she was properly restrained, he stepped back to
admire his work.

    "Believe it or not, Wendy, you look great," he said as he
observed how the books he had placed under the mattress elevated her
midsection, caused her back to arch nicely and raise her crotch
slightly above the rest of her body. He didn't care that she was
uncomfortable.  "You always admired my desk in the office so it's only
fitting that you have the use of my desk at home."  He then ran his
hands over her upper body, pawing at her breasts and squeezing her
nipples between his fingers.  It went on like that for several moments
until he had another idea.

    The girl remained still, wondering what torment he would next
inflict on her. He moved beside her head and untied the rope that kept
her panties from escaping her mouth.  He then extracted the panties
and asked her, "Mouth dry?" She coughed and nodded.  He ran up the
steps and came back down with a glass of water which he sipped as he
stood over the bound attorney.  "Let me take care of that dryness for
you," he said, holding the straw by her mouth so she could sip some of
the cool water he offered.  She sipped and coughed as she did so,
finding it hard to drink in the prone position she found herself.
"Mouth still dry? he asked and she nodded again.  He offered the glass
of water, but as her mouth opened to take the straw, he pulled it away
and thrust his tongue into her mouth.  She was caught totally by
surprise and tried to pull her head away but it was to no avail.  He
relentlessly kept his tongue in her mouth rolling it over her tongue
and swirling it in her mouth, giving her a French kiss like she had
never had before.

    When he was finished, she was crying again.  "Why, Mitch?
Why?"

    He looked at her with a surprised expression on his face and
answered simply, "Because I can."  After a few seconds, he looked down
at the lovely figure and asked in a kind tone, "Wendy?  You hungry?
I'm hungry so you must be hungry." She was afraid to answer, not
wanting to say the wrong thing and provoking him to replacing the vile
gag in her mouth.  He looked up towards the kitchen and then back to
the girl, "Not much food upstairs but I'm starving."  He looked her in
the eye and smiled cruelly.  "How about I eat you?"

    The color drained from Wendy's face as she realized what he
intended to do. "No!  No!  No!" she protested.

    "Yes!  Yes!  Yes!" he replied, as he climbed on top of the
desk and positioned himself so his mouth was by her crotch.  "If
you're hungry, feel free to lick my balls and ass, but," he said
menacingly, "Remember what I told you upstairs about those teeth."  He
then began licking her inner thighs, slowly moving upwards until his
tongue was inside her triangular mound of hair and, finally, inside
her pussy.  All the while Mitch's ass pressed into the helpless girl's
face.  He heard her grunting and trying to scream but the weight of
his body on her face proved as effective a gag as the panties and
handball.  She writhed in pleasurable agony which only stimulated
Mitch more as he lapped up her juices which treacherously flowed from
her as he assaulted her with his tongue.  She came twice before Mitch
had had enough.  She cried, ashamed at all he had done to her and
fearful of what would happen next.

    As she worried about his next attack, the telephone began to
ring.  Mitch shoved the panties back in her mouth before darting up
the stairs and quickly returning with a cordless phone. He sat on the
edge of the desk, admiring Wendy's mound of pubic hair before clicking
the button on the phone and saying, "Hello.  Oh, hi . . .  .  No, I'm
home.  I was just taking care of something in the basement when the
phone rang. . . . Today?  It can't wait till Tuesday? . . . All right,
when? . . . That soon? . . . No, no problem. I'll be here."  He
pressed another button on the phone to end the conversation and turned
to look at his pretty prisoner. 

    "Well, that's all the fun we're going to have for now.
Company's on its way and I have to get dressed, but don't worry, I
won't forget about you."  He kissed her lightly on the forehead before
checking the ropes which held her tightly to the desk.  They were
secure and he was confident that she could neither free herself nor
knock anything over to call attention to her predicament in the
basement.  Satisfied, he walked over to a work bench and returned with
a roll of gray duct tape.  "Much as I'd like to give you that sweet
gag one more time, the panties will have to do for now."  He used his
finger to shove the panties deeper into her mouth and then secured
them there with several pieces of tape.  When he was done, her mouth
was so muffled that what little sounds she could make would never be
heard upstairs.

    He kissed her again, climbed the stairs and turned off the
light at the top of the steps.  Before shutting the door to the
basement though, he took another peak at the nude girl who lay on the
desk with her hips thrust upward by the books beneath the mattress.
He had deliberately left the light above her on and he was impressed
at just how lovely she looked -- naked, bound and gagged  -- below the
light but surrounded in darkness.  He hoped his guests would not be
staying in darkness.  He hoped his guests would not be staying long.

 

Once upstairs, Mitch hurriedly cleaned up all traces of Wendy's
presence in the house.  He made the bed; he hid her Nike sneakers
which were on the porch and all traces of the clothes he had stripped
her of; he rinsed and put away the glass of water; he washed his hands
and face; and he got dressed in a sweatsuit, the sort of outfit you
would normally wear around your house on a nice autumn weekend.  He
gave the place another quick inspection and found absolutely no
evidence to suggest that Wendy King had ever been in his house. He
then turned on the stereo and sat down on his couch with the newspaper
as he waited for his guest to arrive.

    Ten minutes later, a black Lincoln Continental pulled up the
driveway and a middle-aged man stepped out of the driver's side of the
car.  Benjamin Henderson, the managing partner of Henderson & Sloan,
was 58 years old, balding with spots of gray hair around his ears and
a sizeable paunch.  He was clean-shaven and wore tortoise-shell
glasses.  Mitch had not had much contact with Henderson in the office
because Henderson had been relegated more to managing the firm and
bringing in clients rather than actually litigating cases.  The few
times Mitch had met the man, he found him to be crotchety and
cantankerous.  Mitch also recalled Henderson as having breath that
smelled from coffee, his one vice since he quit smoking cigars two
years earlier. Mitch could not imagine what would prompt a senior
partner from his firm to visit him at his home over a long holiday
weekend.

    Mitch's curiosity was further piqued when he saw a woman climb
out of the passenger seat of the Lincoln.  He recognized her
immediately as Linda Draybeck, another partner at Henderson & Sloan.
A tough and occasionally nasty attorney, who concentrated on complex
litigation matters, Draybeck, who was not married and in her early
forties, was the one person in the firm that all associates, including
Mitch, did their best to avoid.  All of the associates, Mitch and
Wendy included, had worked for Draybeck.  In fact, Wendy had most
recently been Draybeck's whipping girl because all new associates
worked with her.  Kind of a baptism by fire.  If you could survive
working with Linda Draybeck, you could face any judge or adversary in
court.

    The two partners walked up to Mitch's house, surveying the
place as they approached.  Before they could knock on the door, Mitch
opened the door and ushered them in.  "Mr. Henderson.  Ms. Draybeck.
What a surprise," Mitch said somewhat nervously.  "What can I do for
you?"  They moved into the living room and sat on the L-shaped couch.

    "Mitch," said the female partner, "We're here to talk to you
about Wendy King."

    Mitch tried hard to keep his poker face on and appear
nonchalant, but inside, his stomach started to churn.  "Wendy?" he
asked with a surprised tone.

    "Yes, Wendy," Henderson growled through clenched teeth.  "You
know.  The bi . . . associate you mentor."

    "What about her?" Mitch asked innocently.

    Draybeck put her hand on Henderson's arm in a futile attempt
to calm him down.  It didn't quite work because Mitch observed
Henderson growing redder in the face.  "Ms. King resigned last night
from the firm.  You didn't know?"

    Mitch shook his head.  "That's news to me.  What firm is she
moving to?"

    "She didn't say.  But that's not important.  We need to ask
you a few questions about her?"

    Mitch looked at the two partners suspiciously.  "What kind of
questions?"

    "You can relax, Mitch.  You're not in any trouble.  We just
need to know if she ever spoke with you about leaving the firm or any
difficulties she was having at the firm."

    Mitch shook his head again.  "Not a word, Ms. Draybeck, but
you have to realize that over the past few months, we weren't all that
friendly."

    Draybeck looked carefully at Henderson who nodded.  "Okay,
Mitch.  We're going to be candid with you but you must understand that
this is a very sensitive issue so it can go no further than this room.
Everyone's future, including yours, is at stake.  Do you understand?"

    Mitch shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Not yet, but go
ahead."

    Draybeck took a deep breath and began her explanation.  "Last
night, Ms. King charged into Mr. Henderson's office and threatened to
file a sexual harassment suit against him, the firm, myself and the
other three partners.  Her accusations were entirely baseless but the
mere accusation could be devastating.  Word spreads and before you
know it clients are going elsewhere and you have no credibility with
the courts and your opponents.  She tendered her resignation with a
letter that makes no reference to her claims but told Mr. henderson
that unless she received `a nice severance package' as she put it, she
would file a complaint and go to the newspapers."

    "Stupid fucking slut," muttered Henderson under his breath.
Draybeck gave him a look to be quiet and Mitch slowly began to see
what was happening. Wendy's accusations were most likely not as
baseless as Draybeck wanted him to believe.

    Draybeck continued, "You can see how concerned we are.  We
already checked her office and computer for any evidence that might
suggest Henderson & Sloan was guilty of any inappropriate behavior but
found nothing.  Mr. Henderson bought us some time by telling the bit .
.  . Ms. King that he needed to speak to the partners so she has given
us until next Monday to pay her off or she goes public.  We are
confident that we would be vindicated in a court of law but the damage
to the firm's reputation would be irreparable."

    "What can I do to help?"  Mitch asked.

    She smiled a condescending smile and said, "Think.  Did she
tell you anything or did you overhear her telling anybody else
anything that could be damaging to the firm."

    Mitch decided to take a gamble.  "Well," he began with a
pregnant pause, "Once she did mention that Mr. Henderson here came on
to her and was a little touchy-feely if you know what I mean."

    "That miserable bitch," said Henderson.  "Did she tell you
anything else about me or any of the other partners?"  Sweat beaded on
his forehead.

    "Nothing specific and, of course, I tried to tell her that she
must have misinterpreted your intentions. She didn't mention anyone
else by name."

    Henderson coughed and grew redder, this time with
embarrassment rather than anger.  Draybeck looked at him angrily.
"You and your old boys club," she hissed.  "Times have changed since
you were a young lawyer, Benjamin, and now you and whoever else have
put all of our futures at risk, including mine.  A judgment against
the firm will expose us all to personal liability."

    She sat back and thought.  Mitch did the same.  Finally, he
stood up moved closer to Linda Draybeck.  "Maybe I can help."

    "You?  What can you do?"

    "Just suppose I could do something to help, really help, like
guarantee that Wendy King files no complaints, makes no public
accusations and doesn't get paid a cent?  What would that be worth?"

    Henderson growled, "What would you want?"

    Mitch chuckled, "That's easy.  I want to be a partner -- an
equal partner -at Henderson & Sloan."

    Draybeck and Henderson looked at each other and nodded.  "If
you could guarantee that there is no lawsuit or scandal and no payoff,
an equal partnership can probably be arranged, but how would you
guarantee this?"

    Mitch thought carefully and decided to take his chances.
"Follow me."  He got up and walked toward the basement door.  "Just
take a peak down the stairs, but keep your voices down."

    Curious, Henderson and Draybeck opened the door to the cellar.
Henderson reached for the pull string light switch, but Mitch stopped
put his hand on the senior partner's arm and shook his head.  "There's
another light down there and it's already on."

    Henderson frowned but continued down the steps with Draybeck
right behind him.  He was halfway down the steps when he peaked over
the bannister and looked toward the light.  He stopped abruptly and
Draybeck bumped into him. Henderson's eyes were opened wide as he
stared at the sight below him and then turned to watch Draybeck's
reaction when she saw what he was seeing.  Like Henderson, she was
awestruck at the sight below her.  There she was, Wendy King, the
source of all their problems, stripped naked and bound and gagged.
Henderson smiled as he stared at the helpless associate who had her
eyes closed and so far had neither seen or heard the three people on
the stairs. He felt a stirring in his pants and his breathing became
heavier as his heart pounded faster and faster in his chest.  Draybeck
also stared at the trussed up girl and her heart too began to beat
faster.  They both looked at Mitch who motioned for them to go
upstairs.

    "So," Mitch asked with a wicked grin, "Am I a partner?"

    The two senior partners were dumbfounded.  "What the hell is
going on here?" Linda Draybeck finally asked.

    "Relax, Linda.  May I call you Linda?" Mitch snickered and
then told them the entire story of how he had come to have Wendy King
bound, gagged and naked in his basement.  "So you see, there is no way
to trace her here.  As far as the firm knows, she resigned and you
have her letter to prove it.  Her Jeep is parked ten miles away and
will probably be stolen by nightfall and no one other than the three
of us knows she's here.  It's perfect."

    "But, but," stammered Ms. Draybeck, "What are you going to do
to her?"

    Mitch looked at Henderson who smiled knowingly before
answering the question that had been posed to Mitch.  "Anything we
want, Linda.  Anything and everything we want."

    "So," said Mitch, "Am I in?"

    Linda Draybeck took a deep breath and answered, "I guess you
are, partner, I guess you are.  We'll have to sell it to the other
three, but since the little bitch leveled harassment charges at them
as well, I think they'll go along when we explain things to them."

    Henderson laughed.  "Looks like we'll be having our partners'
meetings at your place from now on, Mitch.  And I think they're going
to be held more often than ever."


"So, what say we have a little fun?" asked Mitch.

    "What do you mean?" asked Linda Draybeck.

    "Well, Linda, the sky's the limit.  Unless you're shy.  I
don't think Ben here is shy though.  Are you, Ben?"

    "I'm in pig heaven, Mitch, my boy," answered the older man.
"You got anything to drink here, by the way?"

    "Sure.  Liquor cabinet's by the window.  Help yourself."

    Henderson nodded and moved to the credenza that housed Mitch's
liquor.  He spotted an opened bottle of Grand Marnier and grabbed it
and a glass.  "Let's go have ourselves a party," said Henderson whose
pants were already bulging as he grabbed Draybeck by the shoulder and
led her toward the basement. 

    Mitch called to them as they opened the door to the cellar.
"Here, take these.  It's a little cool down there."  He handed them
each robes and took his own robe as well.  The three of them then
proceeded down the stairs to the basement.

    "Let me go first," said Mitch who was already undressing and
donning the robe.  "I'll get things set up while you two get
yourselves ready."  They nodded in agreement to him.

    He sauntered over to the tied girl whose eyes were still
closed and cleared his throat to announce his return.  "Hello,
sunshine," he said.  "Guess what, we've got company!  And guess what
again, they're friends of yours.  Let me introduce you to my new
partners."  He waved his hands with a flourish toward the stairs and
added, "Ben, Linda, I believe you know Wendy."  She craned her neck to
see who Mitch was referring to and what little color that remained in
her face drained when she saw Henderson and Draybeck walking toward
her and wearing robes similar to the one Mitch was wearing.

    "Hello, Ms. King," said Henderson with a sneer as he down some
more of the orange flavored liquor.  "May I go first?" he asked Mitch
and Draybeck.

    Draybeck held up her hand in protest.  "Ladies first, if you
don't mind."

    Henderson looked dejected, but Mitch consoled him.  "Don't
worry, Ben," answered Mitch.  "There's plenty of time for all of us.
You're not going anywhere, are you sweet thing?" he said with a nod
toward the struggling girl.

    Draybeck pursed her lips and looked at Wendy's bound figure.
Then, she walked around the desk to which the girl was tied and
rummaged through its drawers until she found what she was looking for
-- a pair of small binder clips.  Similar to clothes pins in their
use, Draybeck thought they would do quite nicely for what she had in
mind.  Next, she rifled through Mitch's work bench where she found
some kite string. 

    She returned to the desk and held the two black binder clips
before Wendy's eyes.  "Your tits are too small to tie but your nipples
look oh so fine, Ms. King.  Let's dress them up a bit."  Wendy's eyes
opened wide in horror and she shook her head in angry protest.  She
screamed into her gag but her mouth was packed so tightly with her
panties that no sound came forth.  Slowly and deliberately, Draybeck
grasped each of Wendy's nipples and affixed a binder clip to them.
She smiled as she saw tears appear in the corner of the captive girl's
eyes. 

    "You'll get used to it, dear," she said as she looped a length
of kite string through each of the binder clips.  When she was through
and certain that the strings were long enough for her purposes, she
gave each a tug.  This had the effect of pulling the tightly clamped
binder clips upward.  Wendy uttered a muffled scream as she arched her
back in an effort to ease the tension and she feared her nipples would
be torn from her breasts.  "Perfect," announced Draybeck.  "And that's
what I'm going to do if you fail to do exactly as you're told."

    Draybeck turned to Mitch.  "Can I remove the gag?"

    "Sure, there's no neighbors nearby and even if there were,
it's an old house with thick walls.  No one will hear her.  Go ahead."

    Draybeck smiled again and began to remove the gray duct tape
that Mitch had placed over Wendy's mouth earlier.  She then snaked a
finger in Wendy's mouth and extracted the panties.  Holding them up
with a look of absolute disdain, she wiped them on Wendy's face and
tossed them aside.  She then disrobed to reveal a nice trim body with
firm breasts.  "Not bad for a girl of 42," she said to no one in
particular.  Draybeck, Mitch thought as he saw the female partner clad
only in her gray panties, was not that unattractive after all. She
stepped out of her panties and placed them on the desk.  Wendy was
licking her lips to relieve the dryness that filled her mouth.

    Draybeck meanwhile climbed on top of the desk, still holding
the strings that were connected to the binder clips attached to
Wendy's now erect and reddened nipples.  "Okay, bitch, here's the
plan," Draybeck began to explain, "I didn't remove your gag because I
want conversation.  I removed it because you wouldn't be able to lick
my pussy if you were still sucking on your filthy panties.  So, start
licking."  Draybeck eased her crotch over Wendy's face and positioned
herself so the girl's mouth could perform its assigned task.

    Wendy shrieked, "No!  No!  Uuughh," and turned her head to
escape Draybeck's plush mound.

    Draybeck shrugged and gave the strings a jerk.  Wendy howled
in pain.  "If you don't start licking me good, I'm going to rip those
nipples right off those tits.  Start licking!"  With no alternative,
Wendy began to lick the older woman's crotch.  Draybeck pressed
herself hard against the girl's mouth and felt her juices begin to
flow.  Mitch and Henderson watched and smiled as they observed their
prisoner working Draybeck's pussy and heard Draybeck's moans of
pleasure.  Draybeck's juices flowed into Wendy's mouth and all over
her face.  The girl would occasionally give a yelp of pain as Draybeck
sometimes pulled on the strings for no apparent reason.  After about
fifteen minutes, Draybeck let go of the strings and climbed off the
girl's face.

    Wendy began crying again but her captors remained unphased as
they watched her tears mix with the juices Draybeck had deposited on
the bound girl's face. "Oh, here," said Draybeck with a hint of
exasperation.  "Let me clean you up a little."  Draybeck picked up her
own panties and ran it over Wendy's face, wiping up the girl's tears
and her own fluids. 

    Wendy looked up at Draybeck and opened her mouth to speak, but
before she could utter a word, Draybeck shoved her own panties into
Wendy's mouth.  "Suck on those for a while, whore."  She put a few
pieces of the duct tape over the girl's mouth to prevent her from
spitting her new gag out.  Mitch and Henderson laughed as they watched
Wendy protest.  It had been bad enough having her own soiled panties
packed in her mouth, but having Draybeck's panties used as a gag was
utterly repulsive. 

    "My turn," announced Henderson, who could barely contain
himself.  He removed the bathrobe to reveal an ugly, overweight body
covered with hair.  Wendy was sickened at the thought of Henderson
invading her and she stared in muted horror at Henderson's cock which
was brimming with anticipation.  "Can we flip her over on her belly
when I'm ready?" he asked.

    "Ben, old friend, you can have her hanging upside down if
that's your pleasure," Mitch answered.

    The girl's eyes bulged with fear and she swung her head back
and forth in an effort to shut out the inevitable.  Henderson smiled
and bent over to whisper in her ear.  "You little, blackmailing whore.
You wanted to be paid.  Well, here's your first installment."

    With that, he removed the binder clips from her nipples and
poured the contents of his glass of Grand Marnier on the captive girl,
climbed on top of her and began to lick the sticky liqueur from her
body.  He licked her face; he licked her arms; he licked her tits; and
he licked her legs.  All the while his hairy body rubbed against the
frightened girl who could do nothing to repel him.  She looked to
Mitch and Draybeck for help, but saw that their attention was riveted
to Henderson and his licking frenzy.  When he was done, he looked to
Mitch and said, "Help me flip the little bitch over.  I want to check
her out from the rear."

    Mitch untied her hands while Henderson undid the ropes that
bound her legs. Mitch flipped her over and retied the ropes to the
desk's legs, but Henderson left her legs free from the cords.  Instead
he grabbed her by her ankles and pulled himself forward until his
ready shaft was touching her.  "I'm going to take her from behind . .
.doggie style," he announced as he plunged his member inside the girl
who was on her hands and knees.  In and out it went.  She felt
Henderson's coffee breath on her neck and thought she would be sick as
he continued his merciless assault of her vagina.

    "Mitch, let's double team her," said Henderson unexpectedly. 

    Mitch smiled and nodded.  He reached for her mouth, undid the
tape and removed the gag.  Then, he had another idea.  He took
Draybeck's panties and placed them over Wendy's face so that her nose
was stuck in the crotch of the panties but her mouth was free for
Mitch's pleasure.  Draybeck and Henderson both applauded Mitch's
creativity as he climbed on the desk and forced his cock back into her
mouth.

    Henderson and Mitch quickly fell into a rhythmic pattern as
they each pumped their dicks in opposite ends of the girl.  "Get
ready, Mitch!" yelled Henderson after a few minutes.  "I'm going to
cum!"

    Mitch said to his partner, "Just give me the word."

    "On three," replied Henderson.  "One . . . two . . . NOW!"

    Simultaneously, they each let loose filling her orifices with
their salty semen.  She felt Henderson's cum dribble down her leg as
Mitch's poured down her throat since he would not remove his dick to
allow her to spit out his seed.  Finally, he removed his cock from his
mouth.

    The helpless girl looked at her captors and meekly said, "What
now?"

    Draybeck approached and answered her.  "Well, bitch, there are
still three other partners in the firm.  Plus, there are associates
and support staff bonuses to consider."  Henderson snickered.

    Mitch came up to her and held her face in his hands.  "Just
think, Wendy, you wanted so badly to be made a partner.  Now you're
being made by all the partners."

    He kissed her face and said to his new partners, "Who's ready
for more?"


THE END