Jeanne then sat in a chair she placed near the closet and began to tie her legs.  She took a long length of rope and began to loop and cross and clinch, wrapping fifty feet of thick cotton clothesline tightly and securely around her legs.  The rope ran from the bottom of her shoes to over and around her hips, with a final loop around her waist.  He had better appreciate this!

At last, she stood and took the last remaining strands hanging down behind her waist, worked the ropes between her thighs, and brought them up in front.  She sucked in her breath and brought the ends together over the waist rope in front, tying them together quickly.  A wave of pleasure flowed through her body and almost made her fall off her shoes.  The ropes held her legs immobile, and there was no give at all as Jeanne tried a slight shift in their position.  She looked down proudly at her feet, admiring the rope work against her white stockings, and the shiny black patent leather of her shoes.

Jeanne then reached for the gag and worked the familiar ball of leather into her mouth.  She closed her eyes, savoring the smell and taste of the leather filling her mouth.  Buckling the gag in back, she then reached for the matching leather blindfold and placed it over her eyes, effectively shutting out her former world.

Nearing the end of this first act of her afternoon performance, she felt along the top of the chair for her gloves.  She loved the feel and texture of the soft white leather as she put them on her hands and stretched them upward until they just reached her elbows.  Not only did they feel wonderful, but they also protected her hands from the sometimes unforgiving steel of the handcuffs.

Almost there...  Proceeding almost on instinct, she found her cuffs hanging on the back of the chair.  Snapping them on quickly, for fear of changing her mind, she lifted her chained hands toward the ceiling.  Trying to padlock her handcuffs to the chain above her head, she suddenly realized her finger tips only just reached the end of the chain.

Oh, no, Jeanne thought, as she lowered her arms in frustration.  She had fixed the chain an inch or so too high.  It was going to be quite a stretch for her to get the padlock between her cuffs attached to the chain dangling maddeningly just above her head.  Jeanne pondered her next move.

Her bondage was now almost complete and she would have to start completely over if she wanted to lower the chain.  It took me half an hour just to tie my legs.  Her legs began to shake from the effect of the shoes and the ropes, and her dilemma.

I'm going to make this work!  Besides, this was what it was all about, wasn't it?  She took a deep breath and reached as high as she could.  Stretching upward on the toes of her heels, she tried repeatedly to join her cuffed wrists to the chain overhead.  Her breath quickened, and echoed back from her gag, as she struggled to consummate her bondage.

Tired, sweating, and almost ready to quit, she suddenly snagged the end of the chain with the padlock and quickly snapped it shut, before she could possibly change her mind.  Yes.  The snap of the lock sent a chill down her spine.  By reflex, she turned and twisted, and unconsciously tested the bounds of her new, smaller world.  She found herself balancing delicately on her toes, with the backs of her heels floating just above the floor.  A little more of a stretch than you planned, isn't it?

Jeanne always attempted to escape after the last click of the cuffs, and she had even managed to get away a few times.  After a few minutes of struggling with the ropes and the chains surrounding her now, she knew that this web was inescapable.  There was no way out of this little scenario until the ice melted...  or help arrived.  With any ideas of freedom abandoned for now, she began to relax.  Slowly swaying in her chains, she completely yielded to the ropes around her, and treasured the feelings inside her as she surrendered.

Jeanne prided herself on her decision to use the ice.  She always liked to have an escape route, even if the escape proved to be a difficult or lengthy one.  Or like today, simply impossible until the ice melted.  For now though, escape was the last thing on her mind.  The afternoon slowly passed and Jeanne lost track of time.  That was a thing she loved about bondage; you could completely block out the real world.  Every few minutes she would twist and turn on her heels and try just a slight shift in position.  No matter what small changes she attempted, however, her arms remained highly and tightly stretched over her head, with only the toes of her heels touching the floor.  The blindfold kept her completely in the dark, and gag allowed no sound and kept her mouth pleasantly and thoroughly filled.

Her bondage, both physical and psychological, was now complete.  The ropes were now really part of her, as much as her arms, legs, and long brown hair or soft blue eyes.  Suddenly, jarring her sense of blissful submission, the sound of the front door shot through the house.  I just hope he understands...

---

Tom's quest for his fantasy lady began six months before on a much more ordinary Friday evening.  He had tried broaching the subject of ropes and chains with various lovers over the years, but they either found it appalling or just couldn't take a hint.  Tom wished he could start a relationship with a woman just knowing that she liked bondage.  Somehow he had to find a woman that he enjoyed spending time with, but who also could delight in the beauty of a well placed rope.

There was one option left that he hadn't yet explored.  The local weekly entertainment newspaper had a large section for personal ads.  For most of the singles in town, it was required reading.  The personals were always good for a laugh and it allowed you to check how the competition was making out.  If you were really adventurous, you could answer or even place an ad.

The personal ad would have to get his interest across to the lady, but still be vague enough so that it could be read several ways.  Bondage was not an interest that the paper considered a wholesome activity for singles, like bike riding, movies, or long walks in the park.

After a few false starts, Tom told himself that tonight was the night.  He opened a bottle of wine, popped one of his favorite bondage videos in the VCR, and settled into his easy chair with a pencil and paper.  The ad was easier to write than he had imagined, once he got started.  After all, he had been thinking up subtle ways to get his girlfriends tied up for years.

Hampered at every turn, I'm bound and determined to wrap up my search for Sleeping Beauty.
I'm a reasonably handsome prince in my mid-thirties, tired of bar hopping and kissing frogs.
Looking for a damsel in distress to rescue, and carry away in chains.
The lady in question should be comfortable in the middle of the road, yet curious and willing to ride on the shoulder.
Let's try to get away for lunch, and pretend we didn't meet through the personals.

The next day Tom threw on his coat and walked down the street to the mailbox.  He held the letter over the slot for several seconds before letting it slip into the future.  Now he just had to wait.

---

The bus ride home from work was always a low point of Jeanne's day.  The bus was either too cold, or too hot, or filled with exhaust fumes.  Jeanne didn't usually make a point of reading the personals, but she would occasionally pick up a paper to read on the way.  If the bus got stuck in traffic, as it usually did, she would eventually get around to reading them.

After all, what was there to lose.  Here she was, an intelligent, nice looking brunette in her mid-thirties who hadn't had a memorable date in six months.  She realized that she had rather unique tastes, but right now she would settle for anything close to a warm body that produced witty conversation.

The ad struck her immediately, and set loose feelings of passion she hadn't believed possible while sitting on a bus.  Another kindred spirit.  Jeanne grinned and sat back in the seat.  She couldn't believe it, but she might have to respond to this one.

She had never replied to a personal before, but this ad intrigued her for various reasons.  First, was the writer's sense of humor and personality.

Jeanne also appreciated the references in the ad to princes and princesses.  She had always believed that she had been born in the wrong century, and cherished stories of knights, damsels in distress, and princesses locked away in towers awaiting rescue by the handsome prince.

Lastly, of course, were the obvious references to bondage.  Jeanne couldn't explain it, but she had always enjoyed the sensations produced by ropes and chains surrounding her body.  She knew it was an old bondage cliche, but she really HAD let the boys tie her up when they raided her make believe Indian village.  She also fondly remembered that wonderful set of plastic handcuffs she had to wear when the little cops found her gang's hideout in the basement behind the furnace.

Jeanne tried at times to reason out logically why she felt the way she did.  Why she felt such a warm glow at the sight of white cotton ropes and handcuffs?  What made these items of intense desire?  She never arrived at a conclusion, and had come to accept and cherish her special needs.  Now, if she could just find a man who appreciated love, sex, and bondage the way she did.

She had asked a few of her boyfriends to tie her up, but it just seemed they couldn't enjoy things that they didn't understand or initiate.  Also, Jeanne was always careful to take the time to know the man very well before she brought up the subject.  Her dream, however, was to have the man she loved bring it up himself.

Jeanne got off the bus and walked up to her apartment, clutching the paper and planning her reply.  This requires the proper mood, she mused as she entered her apartment and locked the door.

She stripped out of her clothes, grabbed a pen and paper, and headed toward the bedroom.  As she searched for her handcuffs in the lingerie drawer of her night stand, Jeanne began to compose her reply in her head.  She found the cuffs, snapped them on for the evening, and laid down on her bed to write.  She played a little game with herself that whenever the cuffs went on, they stayed on until morning.  It made sleep a little inconvenient, but the dreams were wonderful.

It didn't take her long to write the reply to the ad.  It was short and to the point.  It provided only enough information to arouse his interest, and keep him wondering until they met for lunch.  Jeanne realized that the chance of meeting a decent, wholesome man who enjoyed bondage was a long shot, but it was one she couldn't pass up.  It was just so hard to meet a real prince these days.

Beautiful princess desires to be freed from her chains in the dungeon.
Don't rush, though.  I'll be waiting downtown at Peter's Grill at noon on the twenty third for our lunch.
My name is Jeanne.
I'll be in black.

Tom received the replies from the personal ad a week after it was published.  Out of seven letters, four missed the point, two wanted to tie HIM up (which wasn't so bad an idea, but not how he wanted the relationship to start), and one was absolutely incredible.

As promised, Jeanne was waiting.  Lunch was slightly awkward, but after they got to know each other a little they realized that they really did have a great deal in common.  Other than ropes and chains, of course.  Tom thought she was lovely, with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.  Eyes with secrets all of their own.  The subject of bondage never came up at lunch, but it was always there, like an unspoken shared secret between two old friends.  As they shook hands and parted at three o'clock, they had already made two dates for next week.

Tom and Jeanne went out for three months.  During this time she made it clear to Tom that they had to get to know each other better before she would 'tie the knot'.  And she had been true to her word.

But, tonight was different and both knew it.  Tom had asked her to come over to his place to watch a movie.  Jeanne had accepted with a nod and that look in her eye that he had learned from experience meant trouble.  When she had asked if 'the princess' was welcome, he wondered if maybe the time had come.  He had just started to call her when the door bell rang.

"Good evening," he said, looking down at the overnight bag on the front step.

"Got any plans for Sunday brunch, lover?" Jeanne asked.  "I suppose I could stay over, if I had too."

She looked simply gorgeous.  She was wearing the red mini-skirt with red heels that she wore whenever she really wanted to drive him crazy.

"I think that's a great idea," Tom said as he tried to keep his voice calm.  "Can I get you anything?"

"No, just you.  Got anything you particularly want to do tonight?  I'm pretty flexible," Jeanne said as she kissed him and walked through the door.

I hope so.  Tom took her bag and sat it down next to the couch.

"Have a seat.  I'm going to get some munchies and something to drink"

The last thing on Tom's mind was eating and drinking, but he had needed to get out of the room to think.  After waiting all his life for this moment, he had no idea what to do next.  After a few minutes he realized how silly this must look and headed back out to the living room.

"Hi, lover," Jeanne said with a grin as she twirled the rope in her hands.  "Been looking for this?  I brought my own.  A girl has to be prepared, you know."

Tom looked at Jeanne, and at the rope.  The movie was just starting as he sat next to her and took the rope from her hands.

"Put your hands together, dear.  I think it's time we got a few things straight around here."

Tom took the rope and carefully wrapped it around her wrists four or five times.  He clinched it tightly in the middle with two turns of the rope, and tied it behind her hands out of the reach of her fingers.

"I guess I'm at your mercy," Jeanne purred while subtly twisting her hands and testing the ropes.  "What else could you possibly have in store for me?"

"You definitely have an attitude problem, you know.  Let's see what we can do about that."

Any inhibitions Tom may have felt vanished.  He got up from the couch and headed to the bedroom, where he kept his toys.  He turned back to look at Jeanne before he left the room and suddenly thought that this must be a magical dream that would evaporate as soon as he left.  She was looking at him lovingly with her chin resting on her tied hands, which she held up demurely in front of her.

"Are you going to be here when I get back?" Tom asked.

"No, lover," Jeanne said with a smile.  "I'm going out for pizza."

"I want everything on mine," Tom said over his shoulder as he left the room.  "Except anchovies."

---

Jeanne looked down at her bound hands and wondered what fate, and Tom, had in store for her.  The excitement was building in her mind, and in other places as well.  She could only stare in amazement at the tightly bound hands, resting in front of her eyes.

She had, of course, been tied up before tonight.  But she had either done it herself or been with a boyfriend who couldn't tie a knot.  And she had always had a means of escape.  As she twisted and turned her wrists, she realized that these ropes would stay where they were until Tom decided to remove them.  She couldn't get at the knots with her fingers, but maybe she could loosen them with her teeth...

"What's this, dear," Tom said.  He had come back into the room carrying a suitcase.  "I guess I'll have to keep an eye on you for the rest of the evening."

Tom put the suitcase down out of sight and opened it.  After rummaging and humming to himself for a minute, he pulled out a large mass of white cotton rope.

"More rope?" Jeanne asked.  "Aren't I tied up good enough for you now?  I can't escape you know."

"Bondage isn't only about escape, Jeanne," Tom said, kneeling at her feet and wrapping the rope around her ankles.  "It's also about beauty.  I intend to make you very beautiful."

Tom wrapped the rope carefully around her ankles seven or eight times and tied a knot.  He then brought the ends around the top and the bottom several times, pushing the rope carefully through the tight space between her bound calves, and tying it off snugly behind her legs.  Tom sat back, admired his work; and gently ran his fingers up and down the back of her legs.

He then wrapped another rope around and under her heels, allowing no chance for even a wiggle of her feet.  Tom placed the knots discreetly out of reach behind her legs and tied them with such finality that Jeanne knew before she tried that there was no give, and no way for her to remove them herself.

Looking over at the heap of ropes he had pulled from the suitcase, it dawned on her that they were all for her, and that he was going to use all of them tonight!  The pile of cotton on the floor was somehow more exciting to her than the ropes that now held her.  Just the thought of that much rope around her was incredible.  It was if Tom knew her innermost fantasies and wants, and then took them one step farther than she had ever imagined.

He looped another rope above the bound hands resting in her lap, bringing her elbows together securely and pulling her head downward.  Tom brought the ends of the elbow ropes down to her ankles, where after some fancy loops and crosses, he tied the ends together underneath her heels.  This last rope seemed to link with all the others, forcing her entire body into complete, and for the first time in her life, total bondage.

"How does it feel, Jeanne?" Tom asked, as he sat beside her and stroked her hair.  "Is it what you expected?"

Jeanne silently nuzzled his shoulder with her cheek.  After a minute, she said, "Yes," knowing Tom had already figured that one out.

Jeanne sat like that for over an hour, just watching the movie, enjoying Tom's caresses, and getting used to the feelings that came to her as she sat, bound completely by his side.

"I could get used to this, you know," she said, moving her head to kiss his cheek.

"I know."

They would go for several minutes at a time without a word passing between them, while Jeanne tried to reason through her feelings, and tried to imagine what Tom's thoughts might be.

"Are you releasing me tonight?" Jeanne asked, unsure of the answer she wanted to hear.

"That depends..."

"On what?"

"On whether you can get loose," he said, with a smile.

Every half hour or so, Tom would add another rope.  He untied the rope to her ankles long enough to have her stand and proceeded to wrap her legs above the knees in rope.  So wet and hot by now that she could hardly stand, and the ropes encasing her thighs only made things worse.

Later, he tied her legs together below the knees and tied her bound arms down securely to her upper legs.  The ropes were everywhere.  Escape was impossible, and unthinkable.  This was what she had always dreamed of.  She could stay like this forever, captivated and captive next to the man she now loved.

After two hours, Tom turned and looked her in the eyes and said, "I'm going to gag you now, Jeanne, is that all right?"

Jeanne nodded obediently and instinctively opened her mouth.  Her eyes grew wide with expectation as she watched him at work.  Tom knotted two large bandanas together, making sure the knot was large enough to fit securely in her mouth, but not large enough to hurt or choke her.  Jeanne wondered if Tom had done this before and if he realized she had never been gagged.

"Open your mouth wider, Jeanne," Tom said as he began to work the knotted cloth into her mouth.  After some work it popped into her mouth, startling her for a second until she became used to the feeling of fullness.  Her eyes told Tom that everything was fine, and he then proceeded to tie the bandanas together in back, pulling the ball in tighter and making it impossible to push out.

"Now I'm going to blindfold you, Jeanne.  If you need to talk, wiggle your pinkie finger.  It had better be important, though, or you could spend the night handcuffed to the water heater."

Tom took a large bandana and placed it over her eyes, tying the knot behind her head.  The blindfold blocked out the room and made her isolation complete.  She was now further into her deepest fantasies than she had ever imagined when the night began over three hours ago.  She considered waving her pinkie and trying to talk her way loose, but after a minute or two she became accustomed to the darkness and relaxed.

"It's like I was trying to say, dear," Tom said as he gently continued to caress her, "It isn't how long it takes to escape that's important, it's how long it takes to tie you up."