No Author Named

Photograph by Chad, set292, chad5188

Originally Published in Kidnaped! Vol 1, No 3

Transcribed by guardian46w

Story Codes: M/f, bdsm, reluct, n/c, hired, suspend, roped, gag, nude, sex, X

I don't gag'em right at the start unless there's a reason.  I like a bit o' talk, and the dames usually got a lot to say.  Real gabby usually.  This one was, great big eyes she keeps turning on me, full of hope and promises.  Mind you, the tie the client had ordered for her was a rough one.  Wouldn't have cared for it a bit meself, so I couldn't blame Mrs. Cavendish for being a bit put out.

"This will kill me," she says, and believes every word.

"There's worse ways," I tell her affably.

"Who paid you?  This isn't just a rape deal, is it?"

They always catch on.  Like I've said before, I'm a professional, I look a professional.  The tricks know they're in capable hands.  I respect confidences, but this time the client wanted the trick to know the why of it.

"Your husband, ma'am," I says politely.  "He's got this thing going with a Mrs. Emily Harris.  This is her stable as you know.  I gets the impression you bein' a bit critical, so Mr. Cavendish figures it will make a nice little diversion for the Harrises to come home tonight and find you like you are... take a bit o' explaining."

The trick digests this briefly.  "I won't be alive by then," she says, returning to her original theme.  "This is too awful."

"Just as specified, ma'am.  Very careful with the directions, Mr. Cavendish was.  Seemed to feel you had a bit of discomfort coming."

"Discomfort!" The word exploded.  Mrs. C. obviously felt it a bit of an understatement.  "Let me down from this... this obscenity before you have a corpse on your hands."

"You look damn pretty," I console.  I always tell the tricks this 'bout now.  Boosts morale, keeps away hysterics.

"What's the bastard think Emily's going to do when she finds me here like this?" Mrs. C's mind was still active.

"Figures she'll whip your ass, ma'am.  But he figures, too, that if it's Mr. Harris who happens on you first he'll probably take his riding crop to his own ever-loving.  Nicely thought out bit o' work."

My little lady thinks this one over.  She looks real sweet hanging there.  Must have a rubber spine the way she's bowed the wrong way, but Mr. C was very definite, even to the one leg up and one leg down.  Mrs. C had to suffer.  Ain't never had no wife myself.  But I can understand a feller feelin' that way.  Women must be the devil if you marry 'em.  Never saw no sense in it.  A screw's a screw.  But that marriage bit... !  I figure this service of mine fills a real need.

"If you'll let me out of this, you can have me," says Mrs. C, coming up with the standard try.  Quaint way o' putting it too.

"I got Mr. C's permission to 'have you' anyway, ma'am," I explain.  "Afraid I forgot in the hassle.  Lot of trouble to take you down now.  Course I might figure something anyways, might be fun.  Ain't never tried it with a girl fixed like you are."

She let it pass.  Her mind was busy enough, but there wasn't much she could offer that she hadn't put on the plate already.  Amazing the value these tricks place on their cunts.  The way they offer you a fuck in return for letting them go they must figure a guy don't get none.  Some of these broads are really hurt when you don't snap up the offer.  "Do I have to be naked?" she asks then.  Damn silly question.  I'd gone to some effort to tear her clothes off.  But tricks always hope.

"That was another of the specifications," I explain.

There's another pause.  I can sorta hear the wheels churning.  "How long you aim to stay around?" Mrs. C asks suddenly.

I didn't follow right quick.  "Maybe an hour," I say.  "I usually watch a while if it don't matter.  Real pretty."

"Watch!  You mean you'te a sadist!  You like seeing a girl being tortured?" She sounded real indignant.  These tricks are a panic.

"Don't know that word," I tell her, peeved.  "You begrudge a guy a bit of look and tickle?"

"I suppose not." She makes it sound real weary as though I'm a real arsehole.  "I was simply going to ask that if you aren't leaving right off, couldn't you 1et me down so I'm not being tortured like this?  Keep me tied, of course, but not in agony.  You can fix me this way again when you have to leave."

"Thought you was going to die like that!"
She hates me, but don't say so.  "Well, will you?  Be a bit merciful.  You can do what you like with me for an hour.  I won't fight." She looks at me with them huge peepers.  "Can't you understand, this is agony.  It's torture!" She gives me a message with a nice sideways look.  "No one will know.  It won't change a thing."

The little bitch!  She'd figured real shrewd.  She was right about the whole idea.  I even had Mr. C's permission to screw her to a fare-ye-well.  An hour, a whole hour...  I lets her down, but keeps a rope and strap on one ankle in case she's a sprinter.

She's real loving, all over me with lips and tits and the whole equipment.  Mrs. C turns out to be real warm and snugly and, dammit, I can see how a man gets himself into these jackpots.

Can't say I ever had a better hour with a broad.  I knew what she had to be playing for, but she never once tried to get out of that strap or loose the tether.  She got me so horny with being so damn submissive I lost count o' the times we made it together.  For an hour I really loved that trick.

But there's always a bill.  Mrs. C presents mine when it comes time to tie her up again.  She turns them big eyes on me and starts to weep.  She's smart, she don't complain so's to get me cheesed off.  She does everything real obedient.  Holds her hands out to be strapped, and her other foot.  But keeps them eyes at work and the tears trickling down her cheeks...  Dammit, if there was many tricks like her I'd have to leave the profession.

When I had her back up exactly right so she was hurtin' again I get the damndest reproachful looks, but never a harsh word.  I was almost cryin' myself.  The real wallop came when I had to mention the gag.  It was a ball and strap.  Mrs. C looks at it dangling from my hand and then looks at me.  She does this a couple of times, real pitiful.  "I'11 open my mouth," she says, resigned.  "But while I can still speak..." She gives me a real soulful look.  "Thank you...  thank you for that hour!"  She grins and opens her mouth as wide as it can go, then cocks one eye as the signal.

I push the ball between her teeth and strap the buckle tight.  She shakes her head a bit to get the feel, then rests her head against the post and closes her eyes.  I tiptoe away.

I actually feel like a real a bastard.