by Isaac W.

Illustrated by Dale Vied

Originally published in Bondage Life No. 55, April 1994

Transcribed by GW

Story Codes: M/f, bondage, cons, roleplay, fantasies, rope, chair, surprised, X

Playing at the office after hours added spice to Michael and Marla's bondage games.  But they couldn't have guessed just how exciting their games would become when something unexpected happens…

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"How much longer do you think you guys will be here?"

I looked up at Art, who was in the office doorway.  "It doesn't look good.  Three hours, maybe."

Art grimaced.  "Jeez.  Anything I can do?"

"You could write this for me."

"Or you could write mine," piped Marla with a smile.  She occupied the desk facing the window and adjacent to my own.  She had turned her chair around to look at Art.

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "I meant like get you a cup of coffee before I leave.  You know, something simple."

"You're a real saint, Art.  No, there's nothing I need."

"Me neither."  replied Marla.

"Well, I guess I'll be leaving you folks to your own devices."

"See you in the morn'."  I said with a small wave.

"Take care."  added Marla.

"Yeah, you too."  said Art as he walked from the room.

I sighed and smiled as he left.  I looked to Marla.

"And just what is that devious grin for, St. Michael?" she asked with a sweet, innocent tone of voice.

"Since when did I become canonized?"

"I just know that a man of your virtue is entirely incapable of the lustful glare you just gave me.  You surely must be possessed, St. Michael."

Art poked his head in the door at that instant.

"Did Denise lock the elevator when she left?"

"Yes."  Marla answered.  "At least she said that she was going to."

"Okay."  Once again Art turned and left.

Marla and I exchanged smiles.  I'd jumped the gun just a bit.  We couldn't begin our serious goofing off until Art was out of the building.

We waited.  I could hear the elevator door open.  After a beat, the doors closed - hopefully with Art on the other side.  With our floor locked, there was no way he could get back up here.  Unless, of course, he wanted to use the stairs.

"Did he finally leave, or is he still wandering around?" whispered Marla.

"I think he's gone."  I rose from my desk and looked out into the small atrium.  Empty.  My faithful wristwatch informed me that it was 6:30.  Certainly about time he left.

I returned.  "You are finished, aren't you?"

"I told you I was done at 5:30."

"Just checking."

"I know you're done."

"Yep."

"So why don't you go into the bathroom and change roles?"

"With pleasure, dear."  I picked up my briefcase and left the room.  The bathroom was not my destination.  Instead, I went two offices down.  The bathroom is right across from our office, and the squeaking restroom door would announce my exit.  I didn't want that.

I randomly picked Anita's office.  I opened my briefcase on her desk.  It contained lengths of nylon rope and a couple of bandanas.  A change of clothes was also in there.  I grinned with anticipation as I began to remove my tie.

Working for a small publications company certainly has its advantages.  No roving security guards, for one thing.  The family atmosphere lends an air of camaraderie.  It's no problem if someone has to work over to get something done.  That's what we had everyone thinking - that we were behind on our deadlines and had to stay late.  This overtime was reserved for play.

Marla and I love conjuring up fantasies to act out, and the setting adds the realistic touch that can be so stimulating and erotic.  Not to mention downright adventurous.

As I changed clothes, my mind went back to that secluded, wooded area of a camping ground.  She was the lost camper and I was the hunter with bad intent.  I welcomed her to my warm fire.  I surprised and overpowered her.  She ended up tied to a tree.  Then there was the time she was the hitchhiker.  As soon as she was in my car - her pack in the back and her door closed - I pounced on her and handcuffed her hands behind her back.  I then gagged her with a knotted scarf and reclined the bucket seat back to its farthest extension, so she was out of sight.  I then drove her back to my place for a very interesting evening.

Bringing different role-playing fantasies to life has become commonplace in our relationship - a tradition that we have both grown to love.  My fantasies were unfulfilled before I met Marla, who had just recently become my wife.  We met here at Corporate Publications, sharing an office with two others.  It was easy for me to fall in love with this auburn-haired beauty.  Her wonderful smile, those gorgeous eyes, her curvaceous and shapely body... and especially her love for bondage play.

Both of us are salaried, so no one was footing the bill for our use of the office for our own purposes.  It took a bit of scamming to make it look like we were running late on our assignments, but everyone was fooled.  And now it was time to play.

I had donned black clothing.  Sweats, sneakers, turtleneck - classic burglar apparel.  I picked up all the coils of rope and stuffed them into the large, baggy pockets of the sweats.  I then put on the ski mask.  As I added this final touch, reality faded into a distant background.  The world was now limited to the floor of this building.

My motives molded to that of a burglar.  I now desired to heist some computer equipment.  Much to my surprise, there was someone still working down the hall.  No matter.  I was prepared.  I had the supreme advantage of surprise.  The lone employee who was diligently clacking away on a computer was entirely oblivious to my existence.

I slipped out of the office and into the hall.  Stealthily I crept to the open door where it was obvious the solitary occupant of the floor was still at work.

I cautiously peered in.  Her back was to me.  She was intent on the terminal.  I smiled.  She had not an inkling as to my presence.  I quietly came up behind her.

Swiftly I cupped my right hand over her mouth and pinned her arms to the chair with my left arm.

Her cry of surprise was muffled sufficiently and her struggles were futile as she twisted and squirmed in my grasp.

"Quiet!" I hissed in her ear, "I'm not going to hurt you - just listen to me!"

She stayed her struggling, her eyes wide.

I retained my grip on her as I whispered in her ear, "Just do like I say and nothing will happen to you.  Don't scream, don't try to run - just listen, okay?"

She didn't respond.

"Okay? Don't try anything."

She nodded her head in agreement.  I still didn't relinquish my grip on her.  If possible, I wanted to try to put her a little bit at ease before I did.

"I'm not going to do anything to you.  I came to heist some of the computer equipment.  That's all.  All you have to do is sit in this chair.  Okay?"

She nodded again.

I slowly took my hand from her mouth.  She said nothing but discharged a shaky sigh.  I released her and stood above her.  Pretty thing.  I didn't tell her how she was going to be sitting in the chair.

I took out a length of rope from one of my baggy pockets.

Her eyes widened.

"You don't need to tie me up."

"I don't need you phoning the police as soon as I'm out of here."

"Really, I won't.  I'll...."

"Put your hands behind your back."

She saw that I was serious.  With reluctance, she conceded.  I tied her wrists together behind the back of the chair.  I then took out two bandanas that were also in my pocket.  I wadded the red one into a ball and said, "Open."

She blinked those big green eyes at me.  I sort of felt sorry for her.  This was quite a predicament.  This poor lass was about to be rendered immobile by some dangerous-looking stranger.

"I won't scream.  Honestly, I won't."

"Open your mouth, " I repeated, giving my voice a bit of an angry edge.  I certainly didn't want to appear to be a softy.

She hesitated, then opened her mouth as I requested.  In went the wadded cloth.  I took the other bandana and tied it behind her head, securing the packing in place.  The gag made it impossible for her to alert anyone with screams.

I pulled her chair out from her desk.  Her skirt was about knee-length, the way she was sitting.  From what I could tell, this pretty writer had some very attractive legs.  Legs that could still run, and that had to be taken care of.

She seemingly had made herself comfortable, her heels were beside her desk.  Her toes were visible through the nylons she wore.  I liked that.  I knelt in front of her with another length of rope.  Soon her feet were securely bound.  The rope still had some decent length to it, so I connected her feet to the back of the chair.  I tied it so her toes were suspended about an inch above the floor.

I extracted the other lengths of rope from my pockets.  There were still three coils remaining.  I thought that it would be best to use all of them.  I took my time tying her knees together, enjoying the brief contact with her thighs.

Looping another length over her thighs and under the chair further restrained her.  The final rope went around her waist and arms, firmly adhering her body to the chair.

I stepped back and admired my handiwork.  I had brought enough rope with me to tie three people hand and foot.  I was satisfied that I had found only one - a pretty writer, surely destined to miss her deadline.  I grinned.  I must have looked evil.

She began to squirm in her bonds, just testing them, not really giving a real struggle.  She paused and looked at me.  She knew that my eyes never left her.

"Mmmph!" Her cry was pitifully muffled.  She definitely was going to be here until someone came in the following morning.

She looked to me, seemingly no longer the frightened rabbit but now the cornered badger.  "Mmmph! Mmmph!" She began to struggle fervently in her bonds.  She was making no headway at all.  She had very little room to move.  This poor writer was trapped like a caged mouse.

"Shhh!" Her eyebrows went up in an inquisitive expression as I hurriedly shushed her.  I'd heard a noise.  My role had dissipated as if I had been startled out of a dream.  I went to the door and looked outside the office, listening intently.

The stairs.

"Someone's coming up the stairs," I whispered urgently to Marla.  Her eyes widened as she sensed panic slipping into my voice.

I had to think fast.  Very fast.  If I could hear them already, they must be near the final flight of stairs - I had no time to move Marla someplace before the door in the atrium would open up.  I quickly shut our office door.  I threw my mask behind her desk and set to work untying her hands.  I fumbled with the knot, and then once I had it undone, the cinch still held her hands together, and she and I were trying frantically to wriggle her wrists from the bonds.  Finally, the loops loosened sufficiently to where she had her hands free.

Behind me, beyond our closed door, I heard the stairway door open.

I now had the rope about her waist undone and she was busily working on the loop around her thighs and the chair bottom.

As she did this I untied the bandana behind her head.  She ejected the packing quietly.  We could hear someone outside our office.  Every rope we undid was thrown behind her desk and out of sight.

The door opened.  I stepped between the door and the back of Marla's chair.  The rope connecting her feet to the chair back was clearly visible without my body blocking the view.  Beneath the chair, Marla’s feet were still tightly bound.

Marla turned her head to see the opening door but did not move her chair.

Art came in.

"Mike, you must be done."  he said.

"Yeah."  I knew my face was flushed from the excitement, all the rushing, and the awful anxiety that Art just might catch a glimpse of the rope binding Marla's ankles.

"You changed clothes and everything."  He looked to Marla, "Hurry up, can't you see that he wants to go home?"

Marla smiled.  "Well, if he wants to get home any faster, he can help."

Pasting an incredulous expression on my face, I replied, "I am."

"Yeah, you are."  she said, sarcasm dripping on every word.  She was playing this well - much better than I.  Marla was seemingly calm and cool, and here I was, hoping to the gods that it wasn't obvious that I was a bundle of nerves.

I must have had the most strained looking smile ever recorded.  "What brings you back?" I asked Art.

"Well, I was having a few drinks downstairs when I remembered that I left a folder up here.  So, I finished my beer and decided to get it on my way out."

He'd only gone to the bar on the first floor.  Why didn't he just go home? my mind cried.

"You're so senile.  Maybe you'd better see a doctor."  Marla quipped.

"Maybe you need some Geritol so you have the energy to get your stories in on time."  Art shot back.

"Touché!" I exclaimed.  These petty insults are what makes working here quite lively.

"Well, guys, it was wonderful chatting, but I'm gonna get my stuff and head out for the final time."

"Sure, you won't come back and visit us again?" asked Marla in a sweet fashion.

"Only on the morrow, madame," was Art's reply as he gave us a salute and made his exit.

I sighed with relief as he left for his office.  Immediately I turned and began working on the knot at the back of Marla's chair.

With that undone, Marla pushed herself out from the desk and untied her feet.  The ropes were quickly thrown behind her desk.

Art paused by our doorway as he returned from his office.  "Bye all."

"Bye."  we replied simultaneously.  We were silent as we waited for Art to board the elevator.  When the doors closed behind him once again, we looked at each other with anxious expressions.

"That was close," Marla sighed.

I wiped sweat from my forehead.  "Yeah.  This didn't quite turn out as we planned."

"No, I really didn't plan on Art joining us."

I chuckled.  "And my camera sits in my briefcase entirely unused this evening."

"Well, you could just tie me up again."

"Hon," I said in an exasperated voice, "I just want to go home."

"Somehow I didn't think you'd go for the idea."

"Well, I would if I wanted Art along."

"Aw, you don't want Art to come and play?" She was looking sheepish and was batting her eyelashes at me.

"For that statement, dear, you shall have to be brought home and bound securely."

She raised one eyebrow.  I think she looks so sexy when she does that.  "And then what?"

"You will be subjected to the Roaming Hands and the Tickling Tongue."

"My oh my! I don't know if this damsel can take any more distress today!"

"We'll see, won't we?"

"We certainly will."  she said with an evil smile.

We gathered our stuff, being careful not to leave any trace of our play.  Then we left for home.