I strolled into the room, dumping my huge army duffle-bag full of gear onto the floor with a loud jangle. The room was a dull grey box, concrete floor, walls and ceiling, completely devoid of anything, except the one door I had just entered through and the woman hanging from the hook in the middle of the room. Her wrists were roughly roped together with harsh hemp rope, then her arms were yanked high above her head, the rope looped over the massive rusted iron hook hanging from a winch in the ceiling. The rope was pulled taut, stretching her right up onto her tip-toes despite the sizeable black satin heels she was wearing. Her feet must be aching by now, despite the hefty padded platforms under the balls of her feet, but it made her lightly muscled calves look gorgeous.

She was wearing a skimpy grey dress, bedecked with a thousand sparkling sequins, and while it normally probably hung to mid-thigh, it now barely kept her concealed with her arms held high above her head, all of her legs exposed to my appraising eyes. The draped neckline did nothing to conceal her heaving chest as she struggled against the rope, the straps of her dress digging into her shoulders.

She looked up at the sound of me dropping my bag, her blonde hair falling either side of her perfectly made up face, furious blue eyes stabbing into me.

“I suppose you think that this is funny,” She snapped.

“Hilarious, actually,” I replied casually, head on one side, taking my time to appreciate her.

She was gorgeous, lightly tanned with long legs and the perfect hourglass figure. She didn’t have huge breasts, but they were a nice pert shape, and hey, I’d always been told that more than a handful’s a waste anyway.

“What are you looking at pervert?” she demanded caustically, still struggling on the rope.

“You,” I returned calmly. “But then, I thought that you liked attention Elle.”

She looked sharply at me, eyes narrowing.

“Do I know you?” she demanded. “I know, you’re probably one of my fan club aren’t you? Did I forget to sign your picture or something?”

“You, fans?” I snorted. “You mean the 3 people that hang around by the stage door that make you feel important? Please. Don’t make out that you’re a serious actress with actual fans.”

“I’m a brilliant actress!” she protested. “I had rave reviews…”

“From your mommy?” I demanded dryly. “I saw you as Elizabeth in Frankenstein and I sincerely doubt your ‘acting’ skills got any better.”

She stared at me.

“I haven’t played Elizabeth in Frankenstein,” she said slowly. “Not since…”

Elle’s big blue eyes widened, staring at me.

“Not since high school,” I finished. “And we all know you only got that part because you screwed Mr Stroller. How the hell did you put up with him putting his slimy hands all over you?”

“I never screwed him!” Elle protested indignantly, yanking on the rope. “I was just the best person for the part.”

“Oh please, we all know Eva-Mae was the shoe-in for that part,” I remarked. “You weren’t even on the shortlist, I know, I saw it.”

She stared at me, and I could see the blank stare as she didn’t recognise me. I never expected her to, and hell, it wasn’t about that. I had asked for a pretty blonde, it was just a pleasant surprise it had also been my high-school bully. Now I would get to test her school-wide reputation as a roundheel, and that just sweetened the deal. I reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of dress-maker’s scissors, opening and shutting the large blades with a soft rasp. Elle backed off as far as she could, skittering on her heels as I advances towards her, swinging my feet absently so that the soles of my thick military-style boots scraped on the floor, echoing in the empty room.

“Look, we can talk about this,” Elle said, defiance melting swiftly at the sight of the scissors. “Ummm… Alex, is it?”

I stared at her.

“Seriously?” I demanded, amused. “Alex was a good two inches taller than me even back then. If you’re going to take a stab in the dark, at least try something plausible.”

She kicked out at me as I approached, knocking her huge heels off, leaving her bare feet hanging about an inch off the floor. She yelped in pain as the rope bit into her wrists, feet desperately wiggling, barely scraping the concrete.

“Now that wasn’t the best move ever, now was it?” I demanded. “Nothing like our honoured netball captain at all. Did you get that on merit, or was Mrs Whitlow soft on you too?”

Elle kicked out at me again, but I dodged it easily, and stepped in close to her, sliding the edge of the scissor under the hem of her skirt, the cold metal kissing her thigh.

“Hold still if you don’t want to get cut,” I advised, then closed the blades.

Elle gave a surprisingly pathetic whimper as I sliced away her clubbing dress, leaving it in shiny tatters on the floor. Underneath she was wearing a lacy neon blue thong, and taupe breast-pads stuck to her chest in place of a bra.

“Charlie?” she managed after a moment. “Charlie, please don’t do this.”

“Charlie?” I demanded. “Do I look ginger to you?”

Tucking the scissors into the back of my trousers, I reached forwards and grabbed the upper edge of the breast pads and ripped them away. She yelled in pain as they came away and I threw them contemptuously aside, reaching forwards to run my hands over her chest, weighing her breasts in my hands, gently grazing her nipples with my thumbs. She gasped at the contact, and not totally in disgust. The cool air of the room was already working it’s magic and they were starting to pucker.

“Tell you what Elle,” I said after a moment, backing off and returning to the duffle bag. “If you can successfully tell me who I am, then I’ll let you go. If you can’t…”

I pulled out a coil of rope from the bag.

“Then you’re mine.”

Elle’s eyes widened and she started to really thrash on the rope, desperately struggling as hard as she could like a fish on a line.

“Nonononononono,” she said quickly, breathing fast in fear. “This is really funny and all, you can tell my boyfriend he got me, he wins the prank war, and I’m sorry for replacing his facecream with rubbing alcohol.”

I stared at her.

“Because that’s a healthy and functioning relationship,” I said dryly.

“Like you can talk, deviant!”

I smiled serenely at her, throwing the rope down at her feet and taking out a pair of shiny black boots with 10 inch heels, designed to push the wearer up onto pointe.

“Sure, keep insulting the person who’s got you in their power,” I remarked, rolling my eyes. “You never were the sharpest knife in the block were you?”

“Nicky,” She said swiftly. “Nick, come on, you know it was all just banter.”

“Banter?” I echoed. “I’ve always despised that word.”

I grabbed her right leg and slipped it into the boot, zipping it up along the side, before completing the process with the other leg.

“Banter is what people say when they say something horrible and get called out on it, but instead of apologising like a normal human being, they push the guilt onto the other party by saying ‘oh it was just banter’. Suddenly it’s the victim’s fault for not getting the joke, not you being a mean bitch,” I remarked dryly. “And for reference, Nicky transferred out of the school – because of your bullying – way before your trip on the boards.”

Both boots seated on her feet, I started to lace them up torturously tight, cinching them millimetre by millimetre until there was nowhere left to go before knotting them off tightly, and wrapping a strap around the top to prevent access to the knot and the top of the zip. These straps were locked tightly in place with a little gold padlock. Elle wobbled on the high heels, the slight height difference giving her a dangerous amount of slack that allowed her to teeter slightly and nearly fall.

“And you used to boast about your future career as a ballerina,” I tutted.

“Taylor?” She demanded. “Taylor, I know you wanted to go to that dance competition, but I won, fair and square…”

“Try again,” I advised her. “I’ve never had the balance or sense of rhythm for a dancer.”

I reached back into the bag and pulled out a petrol blue vinyl underbust corset, reaching around in a faux embrace. She shuffled back and I laughed.

“Relax princess,” I snickered, flicking the clasps at the front of the corset in place before walking around her. “Breathe in.”

She squirmed desperately as I started tightly lacing her in, gasping at the unexpected pressure on her waist and nestling around her ribs.

“I thought you were the fan of a bodice-ripper?” I demanded. “You were always wittering on about how Keira Knightly was your idol – and when you did your audition by singing that song by Nancy from Oliver, I have to say, I’ve never thought anything was more appropriate.”

She groaned as I put a knee in the small of her back to wrench it even tighter.

“Please just stop,” She gasped.

“Not until you successfully identify me,” I replied, knotting the corset off. “Damn that does make your waist look good.”

I slapped her bare butt, then grabbed her waist, pulling her arse back against my crotch and grinding against her. I leant in, sliding my right hand over her flat tummy and then down to cup between her legs, making her start, suddenly taut and terrified against me.

“How about we move onto the next step, hmm?” I breathed softly into her ear.

“Stop, please stop,” She yanked on her arms again.

“Then say my name,” I grinned. “Just imagine yourself as that princess in the silly little games we used to play, and I’m Rumpelstiltskin. You’ve got to get my right name, and then I’ll let you go.”

“Rowan?” She demanded, panic filtering into her voice as I slid her underwear down off her hips. “Rowan, this isn’t funny.”

“And I’m not laughing,” I assured her, slipping my fingers inside her.

To my surprise, and somewhat delight, she was wet, her slit well lubricated, and as I gently stroked along the inside of her labia, I felt her shudder and her knees tremble.

“Well, well, is someone enjoying this?” I purred.

She shook her head wildly, but her breathing was ragged now, her eyes tight shut and she gasped, throwing her head back as I flicked her clit. I grinned, dipping my hand into my pocket.

“Please stop,” she whispered. “Please, please…”

“Funny, you’re saying stop,” I brushed my hand across her fully erect nipples now. “But your body is saying go.”

I slid my legs between hers, pushing her legs inexorably apart as she tried to clamp them shut, and then she shuddered as she felt a long slim vibrator press against the entrance to her cervix. She struggled, trying to resist it, but I gently bit her neck, massaging her nipples with my free hand, totally distracting her. The vibrator slid deep inside her, and once I was happy that was well seated, I slipped a bullet vibe between her swollen lips, nestling it right next to her clit. Job done, I tugged her lacy underwear back into place, holding the toys in place for now.

“River?” Elle asked shakily.

“Still a miss.”

I picked up the rope by her feet and circled around to the front. It was thin rope and slightly stretchy, and in a beautiful turquoise blue. I started to cast the rope tightly around her torso in an intricate harness, encircling her breasts, 2 strands either side of her mons pubis to gently chafe either side of her most sensitive area. She groaned as I snugged it all firmly in place. I stepped back, pausing to admire her, then stepped closer to her. I couldn’t resist it, I ran my hungry hands all over her, luxuriously groping her butt and her boobs, running along her long neck and between her thighs. I helped myself to every inch of her, taking the time to really savour the power I had. She stared at me, eyes wide, lips slightly open, panting despite herself at the unwanted stimulation.

“Please…” She whispered.

I ran a thumb over her lips.

“You always were beautiful,” I told her quietly. “The only problem was that you knew it, and you knew the power it gave you. You were beautiful, but the arrogance and bitterness inside you poisoned it. You didn’t need to be evil, but you did it all the same.”

I wrapped a collar around her neck, the diamantes glued to the blue leather sparkling as I buckled it tight and locked it in place.

“The world will be a much nicer place without you to ruin it.”

I reached up and pulled on the knots in the rope around her wrists. They unravelled and she stared at me, then tried to rush past me towards the door. I caught her by the elbow, pulling her off balance and she fell to her knees. I didn’t give her the chance to rise, pulling her arms behind her back and roping them together, securing her arms in a tight box-tie behind her back and securing it to her body harness. Keeping her on her knees, I lashed her upper legs to her thighs, sealing her into a frog-tie. She squirmed against the ropes, wildly wiggling her shoulders, trying to shuck the ropes, but they wouldn’t give.

I returned to my bag, emptying out the final items in it, then turned back to her. Elle stared up at me, her beautiful face with those brilliant blue eyes beseeching me.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

I crouched down in front of her, putting our eyes on a level.

“Your master,” I told her. “And that’s all you ever need to know.”

“Pl---mpph!”

As she opened her mouth I slipped the ball of the gag into her mouth, the panel sealing her lips shut as I tightened up the harness straps around her head, securing her silence. Once I was happy it was sealed I gave her one last long look and pressed a blindfold over her eyes, taking away her last weapon. I stood up to admire her one last time, my perfect little parcel, then pulled the army-surplus duffle bag over.

It was amazing how big one of these things was. Big enough to take a struggling woman, that was sure. It took some complicated manoeuvring, but Elle always had been petite and slender and before long, I had slid her inside and the drawstring at the top pulled tight. Glad I’d been working on my weight-training, I slipped my arms into the straps and lifted her, hearing her muffled screams and the thumping of her encased limbs against the canvas bag.

I paused to look around the room. There was nothing there that could lead them back to me, just the tatters of Elle’s dress, a length of rope and a pair of breast pads that should be cleaned away by the following morning when the room could be used again. I nodded to myself and shouldered the door open, exiting into the carpark. My car was reverse-parked in a spot, making it easy to drive away. The bag was thrown into the boot and then I hoisted myself into the front seat. I glanced in the rear view. The slightest hint of canvas was visible, and I could just hear Elle’s whimpers and moans. I grinned, reaching into my pocket and pressing the remote. Squeals emanated from the back and there was a crash as the bag started to hit the sides of the boot compartment as both of the vibrators seated inside her kicked into life.

I grinned, looking at my own eyes in the mirror as I started the car and turned on the lights. I had debated telling her who I was. That I was the kid she had blackmailed into letting her copy my homework, the person that she had mocked for my hairy legs and for being a teacher’s pet, and before that, before all of that, her first best friend that had let her play the princess and queen in every fairytale where I was the evil sorcerer. But you know what – not telling her was so much more fun, and in some ways, it was justice for all of the kids she had abused. I was not just one of them, I could be any of them, and that suited me just fine.

Buckling my seatbelt, I pulled away and hit the open road. We had a long way to go, but I couldn’t wait to get my new dolly settled into her home.