by Jack Chien

Originally PUblished in Bondage Life #20 May 1985

Transcribed by guardian46w

Story Codes: M/f, bondage, cons, reluct, chair, roped, gagged, tease, undies, X

The front door slammed.

Tony Cowles stared at the blank screen of his laptop.  He had promised Tree Surgeon’s Digest an article on the Dutch Elm disease and he was already regretting it.  The editor wanted a, 'lively factual article with human interest and a touch of humor, if possible'.

“Honey, I’m home,”  Tony’s wife came into the room, laden with packages.

“Hi, Bonnie.  Don’t bother me right now, I’m working.  Wait a minute.  Before you go, can you think of any good jokes about Dutch Elm disease?”

“No, I haven’t heard a good Dutch Elm disease joke for a long time.  Aren’t you going to ask me what’s in all these packages?"  A wisp of silky golden hair strayed into Bonnie’s eye.  She tossed her head.  After the ripples of motion in her low-cut dress died out, she went on, “I’ve bought out La Beau Fille's entire stock of sexy underwear.  Would you like me to model it for you?"

Tony groaned.  “I’d love it, but I have a deadline to meet.  Now, be a good girl and clear out of here until I finish this article, okay?”

“Yes, Milord.”  As she closed the study door she added, “Don’t be too long.”

It was some time before Tony could get his mind back on Dutch Elm disease.  The screen was still obstinately blank when she returned, wearing black lace underwear and high heels.

“Bonnie…” he growled ominously.

“Still working?” she asked innocently.  “How do you like this slave bra?  The salesgirl told me it’s the latest thing.”  Her nipples peeked out through the holes in the black lace.  She threw back her shoulders to accentuate the effect.

“They call that a slave bra?  Bonnie, you are not supposed to disturb me when I’m working.”

“I didn’t hear you tapping on the keyboard.”

“You didn’t hear it because I can’t think of anything funny about Dutch Elm disease and if you keep distracting me, I never will think of anything funny about Dutch Elm disease, and if I don’t get this article in the mail by Tuesday I won’t have the money to pay La Beau Fille, and they’ll send a nasty bill collector to rip their merchandise off your cringing body and repossess it.  So, get out of my study and let me get some work done!”

Bonnie listened wide-eyed.  “Would they really rip it right off my cringing body?”

“Out!”

She retreated without undue haste.  “I bet I wouldn’t cringe, anyway.”

---

It was only a few minutes before she appeared again, this time wearing lavender with ruffles and lavender high heels to match.

“Now what?” he asked, with an air of infinite patience.

“I thought of an idea that might help you.  Aren’t I a good girl?”

“I don’t know yet.  What’s your idea?

“I thought of a joke about Dutch Elm disease.  See, there’s this Bulgarian who buys a chain saw…”

“Why a Bulgarian?”

“You swore off Polish jokes, remember?  Anyway, he brings it back to the store the next day and says he doesn’t like it.  So, the salesman asks him what’s wrong with it, and he says there’s nothing wrong with it, he just doesn’t like it, and he wants his money back.  So, the salesman says, ‘There must be something wrong with it, let me check it out.’  So, he starts it up, and the customer jumps a mile in the air and yells, ‘Augh!  What’s that noise?’.

“What’s that got to do with Dutch Elm disease?”

“Maybe he bought the chain saw to cut down a tree cause it had Dutch Elm disease?”

“Bonnie, if you bother me one more time before I finish this article, I’ll tie you up and put you under the desk.  And kick you every time I have to backspace.  Now out!”

“Aw, shucks,” she said, making no move to go.  “I didn’t even get a chance to ask you if you like this outfit.  The salesgirl said it’s very elegant.”

“I’m not a very good typist, you know.  I make a lot of mistakes.”

“All right, all right.  I’m going.  Sheesh.”

---

After several false starts, Tony was beginning to think about telling the editor of Tree Surgeon’s Digest to think up his own jokes.  Every time Tony tried to visualize an elm tree, the limbs kept turning into legs.  With lavender high heels.

---

This time her feet were bare.  She wore pink panties and a short, filmy pink negligee with two strategically placed zippers.

“What is it this time?  This better be good.”

“Well, I was thinking,” she said, batting her eyelashes provocatively.  “Does it have to be a joke about Dutch Elm disease?  I mean, if I thought of a joke about tree surgery in general, would that be good enough?”  There was a mischievous look in her eye.

“All right.  Tell me your tree surgery joke.”

“Oh, I haven’t actually thought of one yet.” She giggled.  “I just wondered if I do think of one, would it be worth disturbing you about?”

“All right, that does it.”  He opened his desk drawer and took out a coil of rope.  This was not the first time this had happened.

He sat her in a chair and swiftly tied her wrists and knees to its arms.

“No!  Please don’t gag me, I’ll be quiet.”

“You’d better be quiet.”  He seated himself in front of the laptop, but his eyes kept straying to the delectable morsel securely bound nearby.  Her panties had a zipper, too.

Another false start, he cursed and deleted, again.  His emotions were getting out of hand.  Every time he looked at Bonnie, she would squirm enticingly against her bonds.

His hands trembled as he clicked to start a new document.  He really wanted to finish the article quickly so he could quit for the day and get on to other things.

“You know,” she murmured, “there’s more you haven’t seen yet.”

He looked her over carefully.  “It seems like everything of interest is in plain sight.”

She giggled.  “No, I mean there’s more undies.  And there’s a negligee the salesgirl called ‘The Princess’.  It’s a floor-length gown with a ruffled bodice, and it’s perfectly transparent!”  She started talking faster as he opened the drawer again.  “Why don’t you take a short break and let me model the rest for you?  It might take your mind off your work.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“But… No!  I’ll be good!  Mmmffffrrwww!”

He tied the gag securely in place and paused a moment to admire his work.  “Now I can get some work done.  But first, the finishing touch.”  He unzipped all three zippers.

He returned to his desk with a sense of deep satisfaction.  “Ah!  You’ve inspired me!”  He began to type rapidly, ignoring her muffled outrage.  “Try to be patient, dear.  It won’t be much longer.”

Half an hour later, clicked SAVE, then sent the email to Tree Surgeon’s Daily.  Then he picked her up, chair and all, and carried her off to the bedroom.