Tied and Teased by Paula S Erikson

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Tied and Teased

(Paula S Erikson)


Tied and Teased

Chapter 1 - Contact

 

"Hello Mistress. I would like to visit you. My name is, Colin, and I wondered if you do bondage?" I asked nervously. It was the first time I had made contact with a dominatrix.

The maid answered the phone, and then handed me over to the dominatrix, to answer my enquiry.

"Hello, Colin," a cheerful female voice said, "I can do anything you wish in the S and M scene. From light bondage for beginners, to full restraint. I can tickle you, or serve up some severe punishment, bordering on torture if that is your desire? I have a fully equipped transvestite wardrobe, from school girl, to a wedding dress. I am sure I can accommodate you. Whatever your preferences are," she replied.

"If I may, Mistress? You sound ideal, and I would like to book an appointment with you. Would next Tuesday, in the afternoon, be suitable? If that is acceptable to you, what would the erm, consideration be for an hour of your time?" I asked, still nervous and wondering if I had made the right choice, and if I was being as submissive as required.

"I have booked you in. You must confirm the appointment in the morning of next Tuesday, after ten o'clock, and before twelve o'clock. I can accommodate you at say two o'clock, in the afternoon, for one hundred pounds. You may, if you wish, bring a scenario for me to look at, but I will only do as I choose. I will try and follow your scenario, as closely as possible for you, but I have limits on what, I am willing to do. I should also warn you that I also want to be entertained. I take my pleasures out of my client's bodies, if you know what I mean?" She asked, leaving the sentence unfinished and hanging it had meaning that was none too subtle.

"I will do as you ask, and I look forward to meeting you," I said, and hung up.

I write erotic novels for a living, and decided that if I experienced some of the delights I wrote about then my stories would hopefully be more believable, hence the reason for the appointment. You could call it research, all be it, hopefully enjoyable research.

I found her name on my computer, she was local, and I had looked at her web site. It looked very interesting, and I would be able to quiz her about her trade, as long as I was careful. I knew that sex was not on offer, but it also seemed a very sexual experience, in an odd sort of way. Just being tied up didn't seem that interesting, and I was afraid that if I had opted for pain, she would hurt me, being a wimp. So I didn't ask for punishment, taking the soft option. I still wondered if I had made the right choice. Just being tied up was not what I wrote about. In some of my work the pain suffered by my victims was extreme, to say the least.

The equipment and punishments I wrote about all came from the web. I had seen the equipment that was for sale and watched short films of people being punished. I just then put a story around the punishment, exaggerating the amount of pain and suffering, but it seemed to have worked as my books sold.

There were four days before I would meet her. My ideas and scenarios all seemed to be painful, as I delved into the reasoning behind, the bondage. Retribution and punishment, for an alleged crime against women in general, were the basis of my stories. Which always, inevitably, led to them suffering painful periods of incarceration. I resolved that kidnap for a ransom, had the only basis from which I would be able to ensure, she didn't use her cane on me, so I quickly wrote, that down, just a paragraph was all I needed.

A multimillionaire, had been kidnapped and held, for ransom. With the threat of severe punishment if the ransom wasn't paid within a certain period, of time. Then, I decided that she might just decide on a shorter period, of time. Fearing the use of the cane on me, I removed the threat of punishment. I ended up with a very simple scenario, which she couldn't get wrong, I hoped. I also hoped that it wasn't too mundane for her, and boring.

At ten o'clock on the Tuesday I rang her, and she said that everything was in order, and that she would expect me, on time. It wasn't a suggestion, or request, it was a direct instruction. Which took me aback, because of her being so direct, but I accepted it, and continued with my morning's work. I ate lunch, and then set out for the appointment.

I found the place she worked from, and knocked on the door. A rather overweight woman opened the door, and looked at me with disdain. She didn't look like the woman I had supposedly booked my session with. Any photo can be put on the web site, and I became nervous, but I was there now, so I introduced myself.

"Hello, I am Colin," I said, hoping that she would invite me in. I also began to wonder, if I had the right address.

"Hum, come in," she said bluntly, her face deadpan, no smile, just an instruction. I was getting nervous, the welcome wasn't very inviting, if anything it was downright rude.

I entered, and stepped to one side whilst she closed the front door, and took the lead. I followed her down the hallway. At the end of the hallway, she stopped, and opened a door for me to enter.

"Go in here. The Mistress will join you as soon as she is free," she said, still cold, uninterested and blunt.

She was a big woman, overweight, and not the sort of woman I would be interested in. She was in her mid-forties, her hair was already going grey, and she was an officious matronly type. Her clothing did nothing to enhance her appearance, but she did tell me that the Mistress, would join me. So that relieved my apprehensions somewhat, in that she was not, the Mistress. I presumed that she was the maid that had answered the phone originally. I was offered a cup of coffee, which I accepted.

I went in and looked around. It was a small room with two easy chairs, a table and a television set. On the left hand wall there was a shelf, with books on it. Cheekily, I looked at them to see if my name was amongst them. I smiled as I saw all six books lined up. I picked one up and it was well thumbed. I smiled, acknowledging its obvious use, to titillate.

"Do you always route around, in a stranger's house?" the voice from the doorway said, not nastily, but in a commanding way, officiously.

I turned around recognising the voice, as the woman I had spoken to on the phone, when I was booking, the appointment.

"Erm, oh no. I was admiring your collection, they," I said, she cut me off.

"Admiring hey? You read them, do you?" She asked, less dictatorial, more showing an interest in my reading habits, but still in a commanding voice.

"Erm, yes, I have read them," I replied, a little nervous, not wishing to let on that I had actually written them, at that moment in time.

"Yet you seem to be nervous? Is this your first time with a Mistress?" She asked, entering the room and coming closer to me.

"Yes, it is, actually," I replied, nervously putting the book back on the shelf.

"So you wish to find out if the books, or should I say? If the Madam, matches up to the books. If so, you will be very disappointed. I do not, have sex with my clients. Please do not ask. I will tie you up and leave you. I will cane you, torture you, or tickle you, tied and teased, if you so wish. I also have a full wardrobe for cross dressing, if that is your dream, but that, is as far as I go. Perhaps I am not the person you are looking for. If sex, was part of your scenario?" She said, as a question, being factual and blunt.

"No, no, sorry can we start again? I-well-erm," I said, she cut me off again.

"The book you were holding is a good story. There is a good plot line, but four orgasms, or more, please? The rest is probable, or possible.

You could be caned severely, beaten, and gagged with knickers that have been worn. Your nipples can be clamped and weights hung on them, these are all things I do daily, but six orgasms, really? It does stretch the imagination, more than just a little," she said disbelievingly, with a smile.

"I-I will tell the author, when I see them. Surely that is part of the author's tool box? To make the unbelievable, believable, to suspend belief," I said, feeling more at ease, she had just paid me a compliment, and smiled at me.

"I have heard that one before, as well. Knowing the author. They usually are hoping for a reduction in my consideration. It does not, work," she said, still smiling.

I smiled back at her, "Really. Shall we say? That I do know the author, very well, in fact. I would also like to say. That I expect to get paid, for my time. Why should I wish to deprive you of what you deserve for your time?" I asked, being bold and taking back control of, the situation.

"I seem to have hit a nerve. There are so many people who seem to know this particular author. She must be a mistress, and with a substantial clientele. Yet they all seem to end up here. Perhaps I am not as vicious, more restrained, than she appears to be in the books?" she asked, smiling at me.

"I can assure you the author, is not, a Mistress. They are, an author, just that," I said, I had the edge, and she was groping. I liked that sort of control on any situation. I knew more than she did.

"Well seeing as you know her, so well. Perhaps on your next visit, should you decide to come again after this session? You would get her to autograph a copy, for me?" she asked indirectly, testing me, smiling a, 'Got you now, smile.'

There it was, the challenge. That was what I was expecting, "Which one shall I take, then? Or, perhaps you would prefer the author, to autograph their new novel? It is due out next month," I offered, with a smile to compliment hers, now taking back control, this was fun.

I had just scored again, thirty, fifteen to me I believed. I had also thrown down the gauntlet. I had control, or so I thought.

"A new novel, interesting? I have not heard anything about that, and I do have some excellent spies in my clientele. I usually have the first copy, immediately it is released. Now, there is a challenge for you. Get me one. Before, it is released," she said, taking back control. This was fun for her, as well. I could tell from the smile, she was enjoying our banter.

I was beginning to like her. She had a very nice smile, a cheeky smile, and her wicked sense of humour was a killer.

"The price of the new book will be twelve ninety nine, as usual," I said, smiling back.

"Now that, is cheeky, very cheeky. I might have to use the cane on you, slave. It would be a gift, for a bountiful and wickedly tormenting, Mistress," she said, teasing me.

"Now, who is being cheeky? You would deprive the author of their consideration for their time?" I asked smiling, and getting more and more desperate, to laugh.

"The price of the book which is usually, twelve ninety nine, as you said, but autographed for free, no ok. I will pay, thirteen pounds. I will give her a penny, for the ink in the pen with which she signs, the book," she said, still with that wicked smile that lit her face.

"You drive a hard bargain, but I agree, on one condition. You must swear that you will promote the books, and never tell anyone. How you got the book, prepublication," I said.

"Ok, Why? How well do you know, the author? Are you screwing her? Are you now going, or hoping to cheat on her, with me?" she asked, with a glint in her eye, and raising her voice, as if in shock.

"Very well, very well indeed, and no. I am not screwing her, as you put it," I said.

"Very well, very well indeed? That's an odd way to put it. A relative, lover, or wife?" she asked, groping.

"Maybe," I said, now it was my turn to be evasive.

"The author, is your wife?" she asked, as if shocked.

"I would imagine that one screwed, one's wife? I said that I was not, screwing the author," I said, smiling at the look on her face, as she tried to work out the relationship.

"And a lover, you would also be screwing, one presumes? So a relative, very interesting. She has to be a female relative, your mother, sister, auntie, or niece, quite a range to choose from?" she said, with a question in her voice, still probing me for the answer, but I was not yet prepared to give it to her, enjoying the banter.

"Who said female? Never heard of a pen name, a non de plume?" I asked, throwing her a curved ball.

"That, is so nasty. Opening up the whole gambit. Do I know, the person?" she asked, taking a wild stab, at who it was.

"I don't know everyone you know. And usually, people who visit you do not boast about it, do they?" I asked, phew got out of that one, she nearly caught me out.

"No, true, but why come to me then? Did they send you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side, enquiringly.

"No. I found your name on the computer, as I said," I replied, enjoying our little game.

"You are teasing me. Don't worry, you will regret it, later. I do have ways of getting my own back, or extracting information. Now strip, and follow me, hang your clothes up neat and tidy," she said, formally.

"I did as you requested, and wrote a scenario. Which did not require me, to strip," I said.

"Very good then, follow me. I take it then you do not wish to utilise the cross dressing facility, which I find strange. You did enquire about that element within my repertoire, didn't you?" She asked, probing and testing me.

"If I may be so bold? I asked, what did you offer? You informed me of that facility, I, did not ask," I said.

"Just testing. You will have to be taught some manners. I am never wrong. If I say that you enquired, you did. Whether or not you actually did, is irrelevant," she said, the cheeky smile broadened, as she spoke.

She led me out of the room across the hall and down into the cellar, it was laid out in a dungeon style setting. There were four rooms off the corridor, she showed me into a small room with a window painted on the far wall. There were bars fixed over the painting, like a prison cell. The room had shackles hanging from the ceiling, a mattress on the floor, and a bucket, in one corner.

"Bondage, takes many forms, your," she said paused, sighed and pulled a face, "I would hate to call two lines, a scenario. But, your questionable 'scenario,' requires imprisonment, as a kidnap victim. I do not tranquilise my clients. It takes too long for them to recover, before I can exact pain on them. Therefore, I must ask that you place your hands behind your back," she said, cocking her head to one side, questioningly and disappointed at my two lines.

I put my hands behind my back and felt the cold steel of the shackles being put on them. She came around the front and then picked up a blindfold, and put that on me. I didn't argue, she was after all following the basic scenario I had handed to her. A kidnap victim would be blindfolded. Then I felt something go around my neck, and it was attached to the chain from the ceiling. She took my hands and lifted them up my back, and fastened them to, I presumed, the collar around my neck. I realised what it was when she fastened it. Finally, she put the shackles on my ankles, and then left me, closing the internal gate, and locking it.

"You seem to be well and truly trussed up, and unable to escape. The shackles are real. I will return in. No. Come here, take three steps forward," she said, I stood still there was no way a victim would just do, as told. I was playing her game, "Being the victim hey, ok," she said and opened the gate, "And you are acting as the victim, would do. So I will do as the jailer, would do. I shall punish you, for not doing as told, but later. For now, open your mouth," she said.

This time, I did as asked, and she pushed some cloth in my mouth, and then put tape, over my lips.

That was when the acrid taste surfaced in my mouth, I pulled my face.

"Ah, we do have taste buds, do we? You realised that like your so called friend. I can also use, worn knickers as a gag. I think now that you are well and truly held. I will only release you when you agree to, my terms. Just like a kidnapped person.

I will hand you a phone, and you will ring this so called friend of yours, and you will ask for the book that is next to be published.

Perhaps a week or two in my dungeon, will teach you not to take the piss. Speaking of which, you do remember that I suggested, nay, told you to strip. Oh heck, what a mess? No hands and trousers still in place, hah well, your problem," she said, and closed the inner gate, and then the outer door with a bang. Turning the locks noisily to make sure I heard them.

Being a prisoner is not what it is alleged to be. I was soon bored, and began to think about the next story line, which gave me a hard-on, and as usual that was followed by the desire to have a pee.

It's funny how a normal thing, which we do without serious consideration and thought, suddenly, becomes a serious problem. One which you delve deeply into, trying to find a solution, and I could not find one. Other than to hold on until she returned, the hour must soon be up, or so I hoped.