My senses which had spent hours deprived of input were suddenly assaulted by bright light and a somewhat shrill voice saying my name. The rubber plug sewn into the mouth of the hood popped out of my mouth as he yanked the hood from my head. A long string of drool followed from my mouth to the hood but slid off the gag and swung back into my chin and down my chest. Any impulse to try to wipe it away had been beaten from me by my futile efforts to escape the severe bondage I was held in. There was nothing I could do about the indignity but take it.

It was with no small measure of dread that I fixed my blurry vision on the outline of the woman in front of me. Who would it be? Who did the tyrant trick or cajole here as another pawn in his game? Someone I know, obviously. I tried to prepare myself for any possibility. My eyes were adjusted and although the I’d correctly deduced, I’d know the beautiful brunette looking at me with confusion, I DEFINITELY was not expecting this particular beautiful brunette.

“Oh God,” I said in my Kentucky accent which I tried so hard to conceal, “he got YOU too Katie?”

Katie was putting it together. She had only just been tricked into his lair moments ago. She didn’t know that he’d already spent the better part of a week using all manner of torment and manipulation to coerce me into a lifetime appointment as his personal bondage writer. But the time she’d spent with the now grinning villain must have been instructive. And one thing was obvious, Katie and I had only two things in common, our mutual dislike of each other and our begrudging respect for the other as a talented erotic writer. Whatever we were doing here in this trap, it must have to do with the latter commonality.

“This is bad, right Tina?” Katie was gently testing the cuffs locked around her wrists. I saw her subtle movements. She was still processing the shock of suddenly finding herself “leashed,” and also calculating the implications of finding ME in a similar state of distress. I doubt she was even aware of her gentle struggles.

“Yeah, Katie.” I slumped as much as my bound and tethered arms would permit and stared at the ground. “This is real fucking bad.”

Katie let out a gasp or a whimper. I couldn’t tell which. He sneered at the same time. And I felt shame for playing into his hand. He expects us to tear each other down. He wants us to weaken each other.

“He’s winning,” I thought, “and right now, I’m too tired to care.”