Sunday, August 28, 2011

Rope, Part One

I received the package at work, and thankfully they were right.  It did come in a discreet brown box, and over regular postage, so it blended easily into the additional clutter that was my office.  The only thing that made it stand out, was the tree logo on the side, a weeping willow that at first glance could stand for any paper, gardening supply, or whatever boring company that could be imagined.  Of course, I knew differently.

Inside would be my costume for the evening.  I was given instructions to change into it at work, using the instructions also found inside.  The costume was light enough to be worn under my clothes, yet I was given no clue as to what this costume would be. Fortunately, I am usually the last one out of the office on Fridays, and so the bathroom would be empty.  I would have the whole place to myself, essentially, and could walk out of the bathroom looking relatively normal.

At the end of the day, I closed the last account and stared at the box.  It was still possible for me to back out of it, and I had heard of plenty of women do so after opening their own packages and seeing what was inside, but I was more determined, or so I thought.  Backing out would have no ill effects on me, or my reputation, but the group would fizzle around me.  They had existed in the shadows for over thirty years, and acquisitions (as they called their recruiting process) was practically a science for them.  Kicking me out, while disappointing for me, would still leave my vanilla life intact, but at this point, it would also leave a piece of my soul behind, unused, neglected and unfulfilled.  This group was the best, and I was determined to make it.

I took the box to the women’s bathroom at the end of the hall and opened it with a quick slice of my key.  The box was light to hold, so I was expecting something frilly and lacy inside, but instead all I found was ten feet of rope.

It was the soft variety and I took it out and glared at it, thinking there was some mistake.  The material was soft and I ran it over my arms to make sure it would be soft against my skin, but this certainly was no costume.  It still had a tag from the hardware store it came from!  I checked the inside of the box again, to see if something, anything, additional was inside, but I only found a simple folded sheet of paper.  The letter, addressed to me, confirmed what was before me:

Dear Training Slut,

Here’s your costume for tonight.  We were so impressed with the knot tying skills you demonstrated on Gwendolyn last week that we decided it was best for those skills not to go to waste for your final test of acquisition.  Below is a simple diagram of how this is to be worn, we suggest you follow these instructions as closely as you can.  You will be the guest of honor tonight, and we have such high hopes for you.


The Masters and Mistresses of the Weeping Willow

I swallowed hard and undid the hardware store packaging around the rope, unraveled it, and laid it on the counter of the sink.  The first instructions were to strip completely, which was no shock to me.  They had told me that my vanilla world clothing would be the first thing to go tonight, so I should not wear anything too costly for me to lose.  I had picked up my outfit at a discount clothing store, and had spent as little as one could and still be street legal.

The simple green dress unbuttoned down the middle, and I dropped it to the floor.  I stood before the bathroom mirror in a bra and panties, my olive skin contrasted nicely against them.  I wasn’t afraid of losing my underwear or bra, as I planned to stuff those in my purse on the way out.  My bra and panties joined the rope on the desk.  “Just trading one set of underwear for another,” I told myself which had a weird calming effect.

I slipped off my pumps, also a disposable pair, and stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror.  I was still fit for my age, and being childless certainly helped me maintain the figure I had. I am half-Indian, half-white and I stand at just two inches shy of six feet.  My friends have all been jealous of me, however, as they moved on with their lives, and all I had to show for mine was a divorce, those relationships strained.  Over time, I found myself either going to bars, trying to meet new friends, or hitting the online dating world hard.  It was only after meeting a woman in the supermarket, with a now familiar weeping willow tattoo on her shoulder, did things really start to click with me.  The group had filled so many voids for me, and after my acquisition tonight, I was eager to start “returning the favor,” as they called it.

I was comfortable with being nude in front of others, as long as the context was understood, but being in the office bathroom in this way did have my heart racing a bit more.  I centered myself on the task at hand, and collected the rope and instructions.  First step was to hang the entire eighteen foot length around the nape of my neck.  Then, three knots down the middle, between my breasts.  The tricky part was the next step, getting the two ends of the rope through my legs, up and around the part that was hanging around my neck.  Watching myself pull this off was mildly embarrassing even if I was the only one to witness it.  

Once this had been done, I pulled the rope down, and the two ends dug into my pussy.  Thankfully I was shaved and waxed bare, but the surprising feeling from the rope did make me jump a bit.  The only rope I had ever tried before had just been at my wrists, a playful exercise with my now ex-husband when we shared a bed, but now, the rope had grown into a full fledged sex partner, wrapping itself around everything.

I followed the instructions for my tits, and wrapped the rope again around to the back.  Over and over this was done until I finally tied everything together at the front.  I tested the ropes which clung to me tightly, every pull sent a small wave of pleasure to my pussy. I admired my handiwork for what turned out to be a minute too long, as I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Maintenance,” the male janitor said from behind the door as he was opening it.  It was completeley innocent, he expected it to be deserted, and I should have left a half-hour ago.  “One second!” I yelled, and thankfully, he stopped opening the door just in the nick of time.  I collected my dress and quickly put it on, quickly getting the buttons together and slipping my shoes on.  I ran out the door, to the sight of the janitor waiting patiently.

“Oh,” I said, clutching my bag.  “Long day.” I said trying to make small talk. I quickly excused myself, and he entered the bathroom.  It was on the ride down the elevator that I realized the buttons on my dress were one off, making it obvious that I had quickly changed.  And to my horror, the bra and panties were nowhere to be found in my bag.  I had ran out of the bathroom without them!

“Too late now,” I decided for myself, and walked out the front door of the building with as much dignity as a woman with no underwear, mismatched buttons, and rope around everything could muster.   

In the parking garage, I walked to the space they had arranged for me to park on the very top.  Normally, I got in early, so I could park in the lower level spaces, but they had insisted I park at the top, next to the stairs for today. There was a black van parked next to my own car, right on time.  A man got out of the van and simply said, “Keys?”  I knew about this part, this man would drive my own car to my home, but I was still taken aback a bit by the command.  He held out his hand, and I gave him my keys, which he snatched readily.  His expression was a bit annoyed as he grabbed for my whole purse, I guess he had expected me to hand the whole bag over.

“Wait, I,” I started instinctively, but shut up quickly as I realized it may be construed as a protest.

“You don’t need any of this where you’re off to.  Don’t worry, I’m taking it to your apartment, it will be safe.”  

I was ready to tell him about my parking lot and how to get there, but he simply climbed in the driver’s seat, threw the purse in the passenger seat, adjusted the mirrors, and took off.  I was still getting myself used to Rule #1: “The Willow thinks of everything.”

The back of the van opened and three other people, one woman and two men, stepped out.  The men were certainly not wearing business clothes, but the jeans and leather they did wear certainly would not get them kicked out of any movie theater.  The woman had a longer dress on, most likely a hold over from a renaissance faire, and her face was heavily made up, which meant she was a Mistress in the Willow.  Submissives, like I hoped to be, had to have enough natural beauty not to need any makeup, and their service usually smudged it.  I was glad I had remembered this in the morning.

“Get in,” the woman ordered.  She had jet black hair, black lipstick, and the whitest face I had ever seen.  She looked at me with a cold stare, daring me to protest.  I complied, expecting the rear doors of van to close behind me, but instead they remained open.  

“Let’s have the dress and the shoes,” the woman said.  I did not know any of these people, and yet, they had robbed me of everything I had, and now they wanted more.  I unbuttoned the dress carefully and opened it, to reveal my ropes and naked body, and then slipped out of my shoes.  I crouched in the van, as there was not enough clearance for me to stand, and to protect myself from the draft of the open air.

She snatched everything and laid the dress on the ground.  She tossed the shoes over the side of the parking garage to get rid of them, which shocked me a bit, but it was a Friday night, and the place was deserted.  As she tossed them, one of the two men took out a can of barbecue lighter fluid and started to drench the dress.  When done, the other lit a book of matches and threw it on the spot.  The green dress effortlessly burst into flames, and the woman gave the match thrower a hug and a kiss.  “I love fire,” she purred.  The trio then climbed into the back with me and the driver of the van took off, leaving my still burning dress on the ground.

I found myself crouched on a large board on the floor of the van, surrounded by my three abductors.  I knew that any questions from me at this moment would first be inappropriate and grounds for more punishment, and unanswered since I was just a training slut.

“Good job with the ropes,” the woman said.  She pulled on the strap around my shoulder blade to test my work.  I felt it all over, my right breast getting most of the force, with my pussy also being stimulated.  I prayed that my pussy would not drip in front of these strangers I was trying to impress.  “We usually don’t ask new sluts to do this, because it’s pretty complicated, but you’re a smarty,” she winked.  “And smart enough to keep your mouth shut too.”

I looked down, knowing that eye contact was routinely forbidden, and to show even more obedience.  The board had four leather cuffs, two along the edges, right in the middle, and the other two at the corners, where the van doors opened.  The woman stood and pushed down on my shoulders, and I complied as I laid down.  My modesty was now completely removed, as the dome light inside the van showed my captors everything I had to offer, and so I swallowed hard and allowed them to gawk.

“Shit, look at that body,” the matches guy said.  “She’s going to be quite nice.”  He stroked by bare arm, which startled me a bit, but I held on to my composure so I did not show a reaction.

“Hey now,” the woman said, “aren’t I enough for you?”

“Of course honey, but c’mon, you want a piece too, don’t you?  It would be a meaningless fuck for me, just exercise for you,” he smiled.

I stared ahead trying to focus on the dim dome light of the van.  His taunts had made me more excited for what was to come.  I knew my place in the Willow, and how I would be the guest of  honor tonight, but his words came off so rough and bare.  I found myself wondering if the three would get too excited, stop the van, and have some fun with me now.  I decided that I would not fight it, even if they were violating the rules of the Willow.  It would be our secret, and I would even accept a punishment if the Willow found me to be impure.  These strangers were delivering me to my destiny, and for that I would help cover whatever rule they wanted to break, with my body being the vessel for their misdeeds.

“Sure, sure,” the woman said.  “Of course, we can’t have the leaders take sloppy seconds, and they’d know.”  The woman then took my ankles and attached them to the corner leather straps of the board.  She stared at my pussy as she strapped me in, probably noticing the lips parting slightly, and swollen from the attention of the ropes.  She then strapped my wrists in place, and I was immobilized on the board.

The rear of the van had no windows and I knew that I had no idea where I was.  They could be driivng around in circles, or be in another state by now, for all I knew.  This was all part of the acquisition, I knew absolutely nothing how or where it would actually take place.  I just knew it would start tonight.

Continued in part two:


  1. I like it a lot. It's a very intriguing idea and the vulnerability and excitement of your protagonist really pulled me in. I look forward to seeing where this goes. :)

  2. Thanks! I'm definitely going to put her through the wringer here. After all, she's dressed for it. ;)