Author Unknown
Originally published in Bound To Please Vol. 3 No. 3
Scanned by EKrayon; transcribed and edited by guardian46wCheerleader in Distress
I went back to work, but a few minutes later there was a sudden rush of sound behind me. Someone had come into the office. I was sure who it was, but when I looked up, I still gasped in astonishment.
Karen Yates stood there, the unattainable love-goddess herself. My plan had worked. She was dressed for cheer squad practice; her gorgeous body clad completely in white except for the single red letter on her left shoulder.Now that it had actually happened, I couldn't believe it. Karen Yates here! In every dream I’d ever had of her, she was dressed just as she was now - in that same short white pleated skirt, with her white sweater stretched to bursting, white socks pulled high on her calves, and white sneakers laced tightly on her feet. She carried her red-and-white pompoms as well. The whole bit.
Did I dare go through with it?
“Oh, it's only you,” she said, immediately aloof when she saw me sitting at my desk. 'Are any of the other girls here?”“No,” I told her. “Just us.”
Karen swore, pacing up and down in a fury.“Some sonsofbitches phoned my folks last night and told them we had a special cheer squad work-out this morning. I get here and find the place deserted!”
“Thanks.” I said, reaching into the drawer for the ball and the roll of tape.“What?” Karen snapped, still furious.
She had stopped her pacing and stood before my desk.“The place is not exactly deserted,” I said. “I'm here.”
“Hmph! Big deal,” she said with a sneer, making sure I knew my place. In her world I didn't even rate. I was one of the marks, just another of the adoring multitude.Ignoring me completely, Karen strode over to the phone and started dialing. I was treated to a back view of her reaching across to the phone. My eyes lingered on that tiny skirt, on the white knickers underneath, on those long legs in neat white socks and white Keds. (sneakers)
She drummed her fingers on the desk impatiently.“The line's dead!” she snapped.
Of course, it was, I had disconnected it earlier. Now I got up, walked over to the office door and closed it. Karen spun around when she heard the key turn in the lock.“What's the idea?!” she cried, and then froze when she saw me moving towards her with a strip of tape in one hand and the rubber ball in the other. I don't think she knew what I had in mind yet, but she could tell something was very wrong.
Karen backed away, but I soon had her cornered against a desk, and was able to grab hold of her. She kicked and fought and tried to twist away, but it was useless. When she opened her mouth to scream, I forced the rubber ball between her teeth and smoothed the adhesive lovingly over her lips. Karen was gagged.Then I twisted her arms up behind her back so that she was leaning face-down across the desk, and taped her hands together. I did her feet next, lashing her ankles with tape, and lowered her onto the floor.
There, it was done! I had actually done it! The notorious tease herself was a helpless prisoner. And what a prisoner! I wondered how many other men would give anything to see her like this.The girl lay there, half-indignant, half terrified, so different from the imperious figure who had come rushing into the gym a few moments ago. She writhed and struggled, causing her skirt to ride up around her waist, revealing white knickers. She pulled at her taped wrists. She fought the adhesive stretched tightly across her mouth. Whenever she tried to speak or cry out, she found herself chewing on rubber.
With the utmost in loving care, I carried her into the store-room and placed her on some rubber gym mats. Then, when I was satisfied that she was in no great distress, I knelt down beside her and pulled her feet up to her wrists. Ignoring the muffled protests and curses that came from beneath the tape, I proceeded to secure her in a hogtie position. I'd seen this done in a movie once and it seemed like the perfect way to keep Karen from rolling about and knocking things over to attract attention.When I stood back to regard my handiwork, I was nearly tempted to alter my plan. That gorgeous white-clad female, bowed back like that, with her tits thrusting out, trussed and gagged, was almost too much to resist.
“How are we feeling?” I jibed. “All comfy?”“Ungghhhmmmphffffff!” Karen cried, in spite of ball and adhesive.
I laughed, and knelt down to tell her my plan. I leaned close, looking into those wide frightened eyes.“Now, Karen, this is the idea,” I told her. “Only the janitor knows I'm here today, and I don't imagine that you bothered to make your presence known since you expected others to be here.”
Lying there, the girl watched me. I was right.“So now I go over and give him the key to the gym and tell him I've finished and that I've locked the place up. He'll come and check the outside doors and go away, totally unaware that a pretty coed lies bound and gagged in the office store-room. Then, this afternoon I come back and let myself in with a duplicate key I had made. Then it will be just you and me... ”
As I watched, her struggles subsided. “And just think,” I told her before closing and locking the door behind me, “you and I are going to have at least a whole day together.”Her eyes told that she could hardly wait!
Anyone For Tennis?
It was not unusual for Sophie to have one of her boyfriends call me up to arrange a tennis date. I had done the same thing myself many times. In fact, the way Sophie and I treated our men was one of the main reasons for our popularity with the men at the tennis club. We even had a reputation for being 'that way' about one another because of it. Needless to say, the other women hated us. But Sophie and I enjoyed our little games immensely, and it seemed to make the men take notice.
The voice on the phone introduced himself as Dave. I couldn't place the name or the voice, and naturally assumed that Sophie had invited an outsider into the club which was certainly okay by me. He told me that Sophie felt like a work-out on the courts that afternoon, and suggested I call over around one o'clock.
When I knocked, a man answered the door. This had to be Dave. Not bad, I thought. Tall, good-looking, and definitely giving me the right responses. His eyes lingered on my tight tennis dress, especially in the places it was designed to cling, and proceeded unashamedly down to take in my brown legs in white socks and slim fitting sneakers.
“Hi,” he said. “You must be Carla.”I intended to give Dave my 'cool' treatment, and so after a short 'Hello' calculated to chill any man's blood, I stepped passed him into the living room.
And froze at what I saw.There was Sophie lying stretched out on the floor in the middle of the room. She was bound and gagged. I couldn't believe it! Her hands and feet had been taped together, and a big strip of white adhesive tape covered her mouth. She was wearing her new white tennis dress white socks and tight white gym sneakers.”
My God! I thought, what's happening here?I could see that Sophie was struggling, mumbling into the adhesive, desperately trying to tell me something.
“What ... What's going on?' I asked, turning to face Dave.He just laughed.
“Oh, it's only a game we're playing,” he said. “Something between Sophie and me.”“I think you'd better untie her at once,” I said as firmly as I could, feeling terribly nervous. Things weren't right here at all.
“We're in no hurry,” Dave said. “There's a few things I've got to do first.”To my horror, I saw that Dave had picked up the roll of surgical adhesive he had obviously used on Sophie, and was moving towards me. Sophie moaned in dismay and began struggling frantically on the floor.
“Oh, please!” I said, realizing what he intended to do. He meant to have me down there next to Sophie, packaged as neatly as she was.I started backing away, but it was no use. Dave grabbed me and pinned me firmly against the wall. I felt his body leaning against me, and what I discovered from that made me struggle even harder. When I went to screams, he shoved a large rubber ball in my mouth and pressed tape across my lips. Without saying another word, he spun me around, grabbed my wrists, and taped them together behind my back. He finished the job by bending down and securing my legs and ankles.
Within seconds, I was on the floor next to Sophie. We lay there together, bound, our cheeks bulging from the balls taped inside our mouths. We could do nothing but exchange terrified glances and fight down the panic that welled up inside us.“Now ladies,' Dave said, standing over us, grinning widely. “I think I owe you an explanation. First of all, Carla, you ought to know that Sophie here thinks I am one of your boyfriends. You think I'm one of hers. Before coming here today, I phoned both of you, pretended I was a friend of the other, and made the necessary arrangements.”
Once again, Sophie and I exchanged looks, suddenly realizing how we had been tricked. Dave laughed when he saw we understood.“When poor Sophie opened the door,” he went on, “she naturally expected to see me with you. Before she knew where she was, I had her tied up on the floor with a ball in her mouth. And you, dear Carla, walked into the same trap!”
But Dave, of course, did not intend to be satisfied with just humiliating us this way. Sophie squealed as he knelt beside her and reached up under her dress. In a moment her panties were down around her knees. Then it was my turn. I felt his hands probing, searching, and then suddenly, my panties were wrenched down, stopped only by the tape that held my knees together.
This was too much! But instead of our previous indignation at being subjected to such treatment, Sophie and I were strangely subdued. We no longer struggled. It must have had something to do with how vulnerable and exposed we suddenly felt. We just lay there watching him, our eyes wide, our cheeks bulging under the adhesive stretched across our mouths.Dave was busy again. He arranged us so we were facing one another, and tied us like that, so that Sophie's body was pressed right up against mine. I was shocked! My pussy was getting wet!
When he had us secured, Dave went to the phone and called the tennis club. We listened in anticipation.“Hello, Neil,” he said. “This is Dave. They're ready whenever you are. Come on over.”
PLEASURE CRUISE
Before I had been able to give him the classic line that I had nothing to wear, he had cut me short.
“There's only one condition I'd like to make,” he had said, smiling. “You are to come exactly as you are now. Don't even bother to pack.”I had started to protest, but he didn't let me finish.
“That's my one stipulation,” he had continued. “My sister will be with us, and she'll have everything you'll need.”Finally, I had agreed, and he had gone, leaving me with a dozen questions still unanswered.
But that afternoon, there I was at the Marina still wearing my office clothes. I had stopped at home only long enough to tell my flat-mate what was happening. She had been very excited for me, and was especially fascinated by Charles Vincent's unusual requests.Following the directions, I had been given, I soon found the 'Triton' at its mooring. It was even more luxurious than I had expected it to be.
Charles had been waiting. He came striding across the deck to meet me, a striking figure in his boating whites. His tanned, well-made body looked utterly stunning in white shirt, white slacks, a jaunty white cloth cap, white socks and spotless white sneakers.“Hi!' he called, smiling broadly. “Welcome aboard. You're the first to arrive!”
I let him escort me below-deck and show me to my cabin. It was as luxurious as the rest of the cruiser.“I've already laid out some togs for you.” he said, pointing to the bed. “You can dress and meet me up in the salon for drinks in ten minutes. I'll go and wait for the others. They should be here any minute.”
I thanked Charles, still dazzled by all this. When he had gone, I examined the things he had provided. There was some fresh underwear, a white blouse, white stretch slacks, some white socks, and a pair of white sneakers. There was a neck-scarf and some of my own favorite brand of make-up on the dressing-table.I was puzzled. Everything was brand-new, and exactly my size. Suddenly I understood why my flat-mate had been so excited. Charles Vincent had obviously brought her in on the 'conspiracy' too.
When I had finished dressing, I regarded the picture I presented in the wall-mirror. I was a little nervous, like a frightened schoolgirl on her first date, but I felt better when I saw how good I looked.
Satisfied, I left the cabin and went up on deck. Charles was waiting for me in the salon. He gave an audible gasp when I entered, and I couldn't help smiling. He was so obviously pleased.I crossed to an armchair and sank into it, crossing my legs coquettishly.
I told him, enjoying his discomfort immensely. This wouldn't be half as bad as I thought. It served him right.
“When are the others getting here?' I asked, taking the drink he handed me.“Soon,” he said, walking over to a cupboard behind the bar. When he turned around, I saw that he was holding a length of white rope.
Before I could say a word, he had me face-down on the floor and was tying my hands behind me. He crammed a wad of cloth into my mouth, and whipped the scarf from around my neck and used it to hold the gag in place. In a moment I was back in the armchair, tightly gagged, bound hand and foot, and very frightened.Charles just stood there, smiling. His eyes lingered on my bursting blouse knotted below my breasts, on my exposed midriff, and continued down to take in the tight slacks and my feet in socks and sneakers. He watched me shifting uncomfortably in the ropes and shook his head in mock-concern when I mewed weakly into the gag.
“Ah, Sally,' he said, “If only you knew how long I've wanted to get you alone like this. I think I've dreamed of tying you up ever since we first met. With you dressed just as you are now.”I struggled in the chair, fighting the tight ropes and the terrible gag that filled my mouth, forcing my jaws apart and preventing any hope whatever of my crying out to attract attention. The most I could manage was a deep gurgling sound in my throat, or the faintest of whimpers.
“Perhaps I owe you an explanation,” he said when I had given up my exertions. ”First of all, Sally, there are no other guests. You and I are going on a nice little cruise all by ourselves. All that talk about company was just to get you aboard. Now, I want you to relax while I go and get us underway.”He stopped and turned in the door-way, laughing at my desperate struggles.
“Relax!' he said again. ”There's nothing you can do about it. We've got two whole weeks to get to know each other, so take it easy.”Ten minutes later, the 'Triton' was sailing majestically down the harbor. By this time, I was lying stretched out on the floor of the salon after a futile attempt to hop out where I could be seen. I was panting and sobbing and frantically struggling with my bonds, but also found myself somehow thrilled by the idea that I was this man's helpless captive for the next two weeks. As that idea sank in, I found myself relaxing in the ropes. Two whole weeks!
THE PICNIC
Two of the guys in my section had already dated her, and they gave discouraging reports. Angela was a tease, always turning it on. Always playing the complete naive when things looked like going too far.
Now it was my turn. Fortunately, I really dug the woman, but there were still those barriers to break down.I suggested a drive in the country and a picnic, and with the right amount of maidenly modesty and batting of eyelids, she agreed.
From the moment I called for her on the Saturday morning, the unspoken contest was on. She answered the door, gave her fetching smile and said, “Hi”. Then she dashed passed me carrying her picnic basket (like something out of a '50s movie.)I watched the slim, kittenish brunette run down the steps to the car. She wore a white blouse knotted below her breasts, blue jeans rolled almost to the knees, white sneakers, and a white scarf in her hair. I was hot just looking at her.
We drove for an hour or so, laughing and making small-talk, until eventually we found a secluded spot near a river. While I parked the car, Angela spread a blanket and began setting out things for our picnic. It was almost as if she had studied for the part - the dutiful first date.We had lunch and chatted, enjoying the perfect weather and the scenery. Then, something caught her attention.
“Dan, what's the first aid kit doing there?” she asked.“Oh, I always keep it handy,” I told her. “You never know when it might be needed.”
She let it pass and went prattling on, and even though we talked about anything and everything but sex, the air was tense with the growing confrontation. So far, I had made no move to touch her and that was my advantage. When I finally gave in to the customary routine and made my advances, I kept it innocent. Whenever she looked like pushing me away, I checked myself before she did.That puzzled her. She was used to being pawed and having to pretend to be. indignant.
Bit by bit I drew her out, and soon we were playfully wrestling on the blanket over some silly dare she had made. Just when she seemed about to spring her 'you've gone too far' line, I twisted her over onto her stomach so that her wrists were pinned together in the small of her back.She struggled and protested pretending to be hurt and upset, and insisting I let her go at once. Instead, 1 took a length of cord from my pocket and began tying her hands with it.
She struggled furiously, arching and twisting under me while I tied her.“Dan! Stop it at once! What do you think you're doing?”
“I'm tying you up,” I told her, pulling the cord tighter. In a moment I had finished. Her hands were tied. Taking a second piece of cord, I quickly bound her ankles. By the time I had done this, all trace of Angela's image had vanished. She was rolling around on the blanket, cursing and swearing in the most unlikely language imaginable.I went to the first aid box, took out some adhesive plaster, and put a strip of it over Angela's mouth. She could still make sounds, but at least they wouldn't carry far.
Now her eyes showed fear instead of anger. She had only to struggle or try to cry out to know she was a helpless captive. And she did struggle! Long after it was clearly useless, the girl twisted and turned and made desperate sounds behind the tape plastered across her lips.That only added spice to the next step. Bending down, 1 loosened her jeans, letting her violent struggles assist me in jockeying them down onto her thighs. Her panties followed.
I had never seen a more expressive set of eyes.I left her like that while I had some more coffee. She watched me drink it. Every moment was an agony of waiting, for Angela knew what was coming and realized that this was what she had really wanted all along.