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But Which One?
by Wendy Hard (hrnd.ndww@yahoo.com)

***

It was that strange question her husband asked her that 
changed her life. For Teddy, whose real name was 
Edwina, the shocked was when Mark asked her if he could 
tie her up. However, she gradually began to accept it, 
then enjoy it. Until, finally, she was talked into 
being part of a bondage foursome with their friends, 
Bruce and Susan. (MF-couples, reluc, sm, tor, bd, 
swing)

***

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked. Puzzled, as 
Mark had never asked me something even remotely like 
that before.

Mark looked hurt at the abrupt way I'd responded to his 
question, if he could tie me up. "I just want to," he 
persisted uncomfortably, distancing himself from me 
slightly.

"But why?" I persisted. "It seems a strange thing to 
want to do." We had been enjoying a pleasant evening at 
home, idly watching some inane programs on television 
and sipping on a rather super wine which we couldn't 
really afford. It was a spur-of-the-minute splurge to 
ceremonially mark our first year of marriage.

"I love you," he said unhappily.

"I know." And as soon as I'd said that, I realized I'd 
said the wrong thing. And in the wrong way too. You 
see, I tended to become abrupt when I was caught on the 
wrong foot. I was beginning to feel distinctly 
uncomfortable. It was a feeling that had completely 
ruined our lovely evening together. "But do you always 
want to tie up people you like?" I asked him, as gently 
as I could.

Mark shook his head, looking as though the bottom had 
fallen out of his life. "No. Only you, Teddy."

My name was actually Edwina. What a horror! And 
everyone shortened it to Teddy which, I thought, had a 
much more frivolous ring about it. "That's good... I 
suppose," I said. "But if you tied me up, I wouldn't be 
able to move. And I don't think I would like that."

"Have you ever tried it?" he persisted.

I shook my head. I only just stopped myself from 
blurting out, "Certainly not! And don't want to!" for 
that, I am sure, would have hurt him even more. I had 
the feeling that this was something that Mark wanted, 
but I simply didn't understand. This was a side of Mark 
I hadn't experienced before. A side of him I hadn't 
even suspected existed.

He gently stroked my bare arm. Normally, that simple 
gesture turned me on in double-quick time but, this 
evening, the slightly hesitant pressure on my skin only 
served to set my nerve-ends on edge.

"But why?" I prevailed. "If you explained it to me, I 
might begin to understand you."

He hung his head. "It's difficult to understand, Teddy. 
"It's just something that I want to do. In fact, I've 
always wanted to," he admitted shamefacedly.

"I never knew that." It was just as well that I hadn't, 
or I was sure I wouldn't have married him, if I'd 
known.

I moved a little bit closer to him. I didn't want this 
to degenerate into our first full-scale row. "Try and 
explain to me why this is something you want to do to 
me," I urged as gently as I was able. "Do you want to 
hurt me?" I asked.

Mark shook his head, and looked bewildered. "No, of 
course, I don't want to hurt you. I wouldn't dream of 
hurting you. You ought to know that by now."

"Then why?" I persisted.

"I should just like to see you helpless."

"But what if I don't want to be helpless?" I asked him 
sharply.

He ignored that. "I thought you might want to... as 
much as I do," he blurted out limply.

"You want to control me?" I suggested sharply. I was 
getting no closer to understanding this yet.

"Something like that," he agreed in a slightly firmer 
tone of voice. "It's just that it's something I want to 
do." He shrugged. "I just do. I always have," he added 
sadly.

"And you think I might want to be controlled like 
this?"

"You won't know if you never even try it."

I reasoned that was true enough. I also realized that 
if I refused him outright, he would be very hurt and, 
most probably, would never forgive me. "And you want me 
to try it. Now?" I asked.

He nodded. "I had to pluck up an awful lot of courage, 
Teddy, to ask you," he admitted. "But if you don't want 
to, then I won't mention it again. Ever."

And that made me realize there would always been this 
secret something between us. I didn't like the sound of 
that, for we had, right at the beginning, agreed that 
we would always be honest with each other, that there 
would be no lies, no mysteries to drive a wedge between 
us.

If I didn't agree with this, however much I hated the 
very idea, I knew I would be responsible for driving 
that very wedge between us.

I hesitated for a very long moment, inwardly battling 
with a decision, the likes of which I had never been 
required to make before. Agreeing to marry Mark had 
been easy, because I loved him. It was also something 
I'd wanted too. This, which he was asking me now was 
something he wanted to do, yet I didn't. 

Normally, we did everything together. And it was 
something I admired my best friend, Susan, who had 
married her high school sweetheart, Bruce, six months 
before we tied the knot, had told me that she and Bruce 
had agreed upon right at the outset. "There will be no 
him and me," she'd exclaimed brightly. "Only us."

And they'd immediately made a wonderful success of 
their marriage, for which I couldn't help secretly 
admiring them. And they were the role model on which I 
had based my relationship with Mark.

What would Susan do, if Bruce asked her the same 
question, I wondered. And I had the sinking feeling 
that she would agree immediately. For she was very much 
the livewire, always ready for a bit of fun, whereas I 
was inevitably the more serious one.

I couldn't see any sense in it. But I didn't want this 
to drive a wedge between us, so it looked as though I 
simply had to go along with it. "I don't mind trying 
it... just once," I murmured hesitantly, hoping I 
wasn't going to hate it too much.

The look Mark gave me was of pure joy, but I couldn't 
help noticing that it was tinged with a large degree of 
nervousness. He clearly wanted me to enjoy this. But I 
knew for certain sure that I was going to hate it.

He left the room without a word, and returned almost 
immediately with a length of soft rope.

I felt my mouth go dry. I was, frankly, frightened of 
Mark for the very first time. "Don't hurt me," I 
murmured, so softly that I don't think he heard me over 
a suddenly louder burst of canned laughter from the 
unheeded television.

He got me to turn on the settee so that I was partially 
back to him. I felt him pull my arms behind my back. 
Gently but very firmly, leaving no doubt in my mind 
that he was in control now.

My mouth suddenly went dry. I wanted to tell him to 
stop, that I wanted to watch the show on television, 
but I had said he could, so I would go along with it. 
But only this once, I decided.

I felt him wrap the rope around my wrists several times 
and then clinch it. I instinctively attempted to free 
my wrists from the unaccustomed restriction but, of 
course, I was unable to do so. My stomach tightened 
when I realized that I was now helpless.

"How's that?" he asked me, standing up and looking down 
on me. He had a sudden light of exhilaration in his 
eyes that I had never seen before. It worried me.

I felt miserable. Unhappy. Used.

"I have to go and get something," he muttered, and left 
the room, leaving me more alone than I'd ever felt 
before. I didn't feel like me any longer. I felt like 
somebody else. Somebody who had no right to be here at 
all.

And, for no reason, I suddenly felt conscious of the 
casual clothes I was wearing. My almost threadbare top, 
that had shrunk by many washings, was now almost too 
tight on me, though it was fine for lazy evenings at 
home. My short shorts now suddenly felt perilously 
brief, and I wanted to pull them down so that they 
would cover a trifle more of my legs. But I couldn't. I 
couldn't move my arms from behind my back. I'd never 
felt so vulnerable.

Mark returned, and glanced at me speculatively. "All 
right?" he asked.

I nodded, knowing that was the reply he wanted from me. 
It was then that I noticed that he was hiding some more 
lengths of rope behind his back.

And I'd thought that he'd finished, and that he was 
going to let me go any moment now.

Without saying anything he got me to lay down on my 
front and, before I'd been able to settle my frightened 
breathing, he quickly lashed my ankles together, just 
as he'd done my wrists.

"I don't like this," I murmured, doing my best not to 
cry. "You're beginning to frighten me," I protested.

"But I think you look wonderful," he stated. He picked 
up his digital camera which, as a keen amateur 
photographer, he always kept on the buffet so it was 
instantly available, and started taking pictures of me.

I went to object. I didn't want pictures taken of me 
trussed up like this. It wasn't natural.

"They're just for me," he promised, before I could get 
the words out. "I won't show them to anyone else."

And there was something about having my picture taken 
like that which mellowed something within me. I found 
myself beginning to relax for the first time.

I was going to beg him to release me, but I suddenly 
discovered that I didn't really want him to just then. 
I couldn't imagine why I had suddenly felt like that, 
and allowed myself to focus on the ropes that held me 
secure. I wasn't exactly uncomfortable. Just helpless. 
In a way, it was an almost nice feeling. In some 
strange way, it brought me closer to Mark. 

It wasn't like the total bodily surrender when he was 
on top of me when we were making love. It was quite 
different. It was a surrender of a completely different 
type. It was a more physical surrender, with a promise 
of loving surrender later. To my surprise, I found that 
one part of me no longer wanted him to release me.

And the camera's shutter continued to click, its small 
round eye feasting itself on my helpless body. The 
sound plunged into me an even deeper feeling of 
acceptance. One which I couldn't even begin to explain 
to myself. I was still me, but I was suddenly a 
different me.

He finally put down the camera and came over to me, 
kneeling on the floor beside me. He started running his 
hands over my helpless body, just as his camera had 
been caressing me. At first over my clothes, then under 
them. My body immediately started to respond to his 
touch, as it always did, and I felt myself get very 
wet, and my breathing become labored.

"Is that better?" he asked.

I had to admit that it was. I was forced to admit to 
myself that this was an incredible feeling. I always 
enjoyed giving myself to him, whatever mood I was in, 
but I had never been so utterly conscious of my body as 
I was in that fabulous moment.

Too, too soon, he stopped fondling my now extremely 
receptive body and stood up. "I'll go and make coffee, 
and then come back and release you. All right?"

I nodded. My emotions were so aroused just then that I 
didn't think I would be able to reply at the moment. 
For I realized that not only was I giving my tied 
wrists and ankles to him, I was giving him control of 
my whole body. It was a disturbing but incredibly 
beautiful feeling.

He left the room, and I started to ponder the 
situation. In the beginning, I had hated this, but now 
I began to see some sense in it. I don't think I'd ever 
been quite so sexually aroused. I knew lovemaking was 
going to be extra special tonight.

I heard Mark moving about in the kitchen and caught 
myself hoping he wouldn't hurry. I didn't like this 
strange sense of construction. But I far from hated it 
either.

Mark returned with the coffee on a tray. "Like me to 
untie you now?" he asked.

I made no reply. I didn't dare tell him that I was 
suddenly in no hurry.

"Then I'll wait until it's cool enough to drink," he 
decided. And knelt on the floor and started running his 
hands over my superheated body again.

I cried out with the intensity of my desire. And with a 
certain amount of anguish, because I knew that if I 
wasn't careful, I would come very quickly. And I didn't 
want that. I wanted it to be special in bed tonight.

"Of course," he said musingly, "Your elbows should also 
be tied together." And he pushed my arms together by 
way of demonstration, making my shoulders feel as 
though they had suddenly been clamped together. "And 
your ankles should be drawn up towards your head to 
make the classic hogtie." And he twisted my now 
frenzied body into a restrictive curve.

"Next time," I heard myself murmur, meaning I didn't 
want him to do it to me now. I hadn't intended saying 
that, but the words just slipped out as if they'd been 
said by someone else. And I then realized I had given 
him permission to do that to me next time. I hadn't 
intended their being a next time, but I knew with an 
inner certainty that there would be now.

Mark looked down on me for a moment, love blazing from 
his eyes. "Next time," he confirmed softly." And he 
quickly untied me, ripped the clothes off me, and took 
me there and then on the rug, with the television still 
babbling away in the background.

* * *

The next morning saw me facing Susan across a table for 
two in our favorite café. This was the one morning of 
the week when we had coffee together before we did our 
week's shopping.

Susan eyed me suspiciously. "You're different this 
morning," she remarked thoughtfully. "Have you grown a 
new leg, or something?"

I tried to act normally, but the previous evening 
seemed to have changed me somehow. And I knew of old 
that Susan wasn't the easiest person to put one across.

Susan cocked her head on one side. "You're much 
brighter and bushy-tailed than you normally are. What 
have you been up to? Something pretty raunchy, I bet."

I fenced off her questions for a while, then was forced 
to blurt out, "Mark tied me up yesterday evening."

"Oh! Is that all? Bruce ties me up all the time." Susan 
eyed me speculatively. "And you've just encountered 
this aspect of human nature for the first time, I 
guess. Am I right?"

I nodded, eyes downcast. There wasn't very much I could 
keep from Susan. Particularly when she was on the 
warpath in search of information about something. And 
that something at the moment was my intensely personal 
private life. "You say that Bruce ties you up all the 
time," I hazarded. "I... "

"Of course!" Susan just about exploded. "He always had. 
Before we were married, in fact. I naturally thought 
you knew."

I shook my head. "I had no idea. Do you mind?"

"Mind? Susan exclaimed. "Of course, I don't mind! I 
love it!" She regarded me quizzically. "And how did you 
find it?"

I hesitated, not knowing what to say, or how much to 
tell my friend.

"The truth, Teddy. We've known each other too long for 
prevarication now."

I silently agreed that this was true. "I hated it to 
begin with," I murmured.

"But you began to like it, I guess."

I nodded.

"Did he tie you up naked? That's always the best, you 
know. It gives you a deliciously vulnerable feeling all 
over."

I swallowed hard. I was getting in much too deep for my 
liking. "No, I was dressed... in an old shirt and 
shorts. But he said he was going to hogtie me, or 
something, next time," I blurted out, inadvertently 
sharing my worry with her.

Susan's eyes brightened. "You'll love that," she 
enthused. "You're absolutely helpless, if it's 
correctly done. And I always am, as Bruce is a master 
with ropes." She eyed me speculatively. "You and Mark 
ought to come over one evening and my Bruce will be 
able to show your Mark a thing or two. Say, what about 
the next evening you come to us for a meal? Why not 
let's make it a foursome bondage evening? You would 
love that!"

I wasn't so sure. I was still trying to digest the bit 
about being tied up naked. The notion gave the 
uncomfortable tremors in the pit of my stomach, a 
strange mixture of fear and desire. "You really enjoy 
being tied up?" I persisted. "I mean, isn't it?"

"Strange? Susan asked. "No, of course not! It's 
perfectly natural. Lots of our friends do it. In fact, 
one of my girlfriends is always willing to offer 
herself to a group that is interested in the long-term 
stuff." He eyes twinkled playfully. I'd love to really 
get into that, but Bruce is a bit of a stick-in-the-mud 
sometimes.

It didn't sound like it to me, but I decided to let 
that go. Susan was always the so full of energy that I 
couldn't imagine her restrained. It seemed a 
contradiction in terms in a way. I decided I wouldn't 
ask about that side of things. I didn't like the sound 
of it at all. "So," I ventured, "You think I ought to 
let Mark hogtie me naked?"

"Of course! It's a lovely feeling. Total release. 
Absolute surrender." Susan threw her arms wide, 
startling the people at the next table to us. "Total 
everything, as far as I am concerned," she added, 
lowering her voice slightly as she noticed them looking 
at her. "You've agreed to Mark giving you a hogtie, I 
presume. I mean, I hope you are prepared for it."

I nodded weakly. "I've already said I would."

"That's a good girl! Then set out to relax and enjoy it 
to the full."

"Surrender," I murmured worriedly.

"That's the ticket! You're getting the idea. That's it 
exactly." Susan stood up. "We ought to be on our way, 
if we're do get our shopping done today."

I glanced at my wristwatch, a birthday present from 
Mark. It was, indeed, getting late.

"And I'll tell my Bruce to have a word with your Mark," 
Susan added, leading the way out of the café, which was 
now filling up with eager patrons. "Fix up a foursome 
evening. How does that grab you?"

I swallowed hard. Frankly, it didn't grab me at all. I 
just didn't like the sound of it, but I knew that when 
Susan had set her mind on something, there was no 
stopping her. And if Bruce managed to talk Mark into 
it, I was done for. I was getting in too deep, to 
quickly.

* * *

Nothing was said for a couple of days then, one night, 
just as I thought we were getting settled for a nice 
relaxing evening in front of the idiot box, Mark 
nestled up close to me, and murmured, "What about it, 
Teddy?"

I knew immediately what he meant, of course, but 
decided to play hard to get. I didn't like that 
approach at all. I found it hard and unromantic. "What 
about what?" I asked with feigned innocence.

"Being hogtied," Bruce replied in a slightly breathless 
voice. I immediately sensed the yearning that was 
consuming him. I wanted to do this for him, but fear of 
being made helpless flooded through me. I swallowed 
hard.

"You said..." Bruce reminded.

"I remember what I said," I snapped. "But what if I 
don't feel like it at the moment?"

"Then will you feel like it?" he asked me pointedly. 

I sighed. It had always been incredibly easy for me to 
get into the mood for Mark to make love to me, but this 
was different. This was like making an appointment for 
the dentist, or something.

"I was looking forward to taking some more photos of 
you... properly tied up this time," Mark said sadly.

I could sense his disappointment. Anyone would be able 
to feel it a mile away. He gently took me in his arms. 
"If you really don't want to," he murmured in my ear.

And his arms around me immediately made me warm to him. 
"I didn't like being asked in that matter-of-fact way," 
I said. "It made me tense up."

"Then should I ask you again now?" he smiled.

I nodded.

"Would you let me put you into a hogtie now, Teddy?" he 
asked.

I nodded. I was slightly more in the mood now. I would 
suffer this for him.

"I'll go get the ropes," he announced, leaving the room 
with a bright step.

I was left sitting on the settee. Alone with my 
thoughts, trying to marshal all that Susan had said to 
me, but all I ended up with was a confused jumble of 
dread, fear, longing and doubt.

Mark returned to the room, clutching what looked to me 
like a huge bundle of lengths of rope.

Without thinking what I was doing, I stood up.

"Ready?" he asked. 

The single word seemingly deciding my fate for the rest 
of the evening. "Susan told that she lets Bruce tie her 
up naked," I blurted out. What made me say that, I 
couldn't imagine. I guess it was some sort of secret 
desire which even I hadn't known about. We always made 
love naked. We slept naked. I suppose this was a 
natural progression in a way.

Mark regarded me with an incredible look of surprise on 
his face. "You would like to?" he asked breathlessly.

I nodded. Despite my fear and dread, I suddenly wanted 
to do this. I suddenly needed to be deliciously 
vulnerable, as Susan had put it.

"Then..."

I removed my clothes slowly with fingers that shook so 
much that I could hardly control them, whilst he 
watched, eager as though he'd never seen my body 
before. Shorts, that groddy old shirt I had also been 
wearing the first time he'd tied me up, bra and, 
finally, panties. I stood before him. Totally revealed. 
Totally in his power.

"Face down on the settee," he murmured.

I complied, the rough fabric of the cushions striking 
gratingly against my now super-heated skin. I put my 
arms behind my back without being asked.

He patted my exposed bottom gently, then wrapped the 
rope around my wrists, just as he'd done last time. I 
was prepared for that. But I wasn't prepared for the 
tightness of the clinch he made. Last time, it had been 
so loose that I could move my wrists within the ropes 
slightly. This time, I couldn't even rotate them. It 
felt as though my wrists had been glued together with 
fast-drying cement.

He patted my bottom again. This time, his fingers 
remained in contact with my bare skin for a moment. 
Sexual desire immediately surged through me.

"All right?" he asked.

I nodded, silently dreading what would come next.

I lay quite still as he roped my ankles together. 
Again, the bond was much tighter than before. I was now 
absolutely helpless. My body no longer belonged to me.

Then, to my horror, I felt him wrap a rope around my 
arms, just above my elbows. That, in itself, was bad 
enough, but he began to tighten the rope, relentlessly 
pulling my arms together until my elbows almost 
touched. I gasped with the sudden strain on my 
shoulders. He wasn't going to leave me like that, was 
he? But I felt him tie off the rope, leaving me 
painfully constricted.

"All right?" he asked.

"I didn't know you were going to do that," I protested.

"You agreed to a hogtie," he replied mildly. "And that 
is part of it."

I wasn't aware, to begin with, of his pulling my ankles 
up behind my back, the discomfort in my shoulders and 
arms was so great. I suddenly became aware what was 
happening when he fastened a rope between my ankles and 
my wrists and pulled it tight. Horribly tight, jerking 
my whole body into an unnatural curve.

"All right?" he asked yet again.

"And how long are you intending leaving me like this?" 
I wanted to know.

Mark laughed ruthlessly. "That decision is entirely 
mine, my dear. You really don't have any say in the 
matter." And he got out his camera and started taking 
photographs of me. Trussed up. Helpless. In pain. 
Naked.

In some unfathomable way, having my pictures taken 
began to relax me, as it always did, and I began to 
accept the incredible constriction. Immediately, the 
pain became part of the constriction. Part of being 
tied up. Part of being in a hogtie.

Mark put the camera down and started running his hands 
over my helpless and suffering body. Sexual desire 
immediately blossomed. It had started before, when he 
had patted my bottom, but it had gone away when the 
shock of being tied up like this hit me.

The telephone rang.

Mark went to answer it, leaving me alone with my 
combined misery. Restriction, pain and desire.

I heard him talking, but was unable to hear what he was 
saying. But he did seem to be settling in for a 
leisurely conversation. He had no intention of hurrying 
back to me.

I felt angry. Then, strangely, I began to relax a bit, 
to accept my condition. Was it because I had no other 
choice? Or was it because of what Susan had said to me? 
I couldn't make up my mind, it had begun to wander, 
almost as though it had a life of its own, independent 
of me. But one thing I was beginning to be sure about 
was that there was almost something nice about this. I 
almost began to like it.

I could scarcely credit my decision, but I had made it 
without thinking about it, so there must be something 
in it.

Mark returned to the room. At first, I didn't even 
notice his doing so, I had begun to relax so much.

"That was Bruce," he announced.

"And what did he want?"

"He just wanted a chat."

I didn't believe that for a moment. I felt there was 
something sinister hanging in the air.

"Do you want me to release you now?" he asked. "Or 
should I get the coffee first?"

"Get the coffee first," I murmured into the cushion my 
face was resting upon.

"Then you're not desperate to be released," he 
remarked, gently running his hands over me, sending 
even wilder spasms of desire shooting through me.

"No really," I allowed.

"Then you like it?" he questioned.

I was forced to admit that I did... in a way.

"I had a feeling that you might. I'll go and make the 
coffee. But I won't hurry back. All right?"

I nodded, wondering how long I really would like to be 
left like this.

When Mark finally returned with the coffee on a tray, 
he asked me that very question.

I didn't know how to answer.

"Another ten minutes?" he suggested. "An hour? Until 
bedtime?"

I did my best to think about that. "I really don't 
know," I said at last.

"Then you would like me to decide?"

I nodded. After all, I had agreed to surrender to him. 
It was all I could do.

"Then until bedtime," he announced.

I nodded, doing my best to hide the mixture of dread 
and excitement that was now overwhelming me. "Whatever 
you decide," I murmured, completely sealing my fate.

* * *

Bruce and Susan welcomed us to their home as they 
always did, but I was instantly aware of an unusual 
sense of excitement hanging in the air.

But wasn't that to be expected? For Mark and I had 
arrived at their place, not for our usual monthly 
casual get-together, but for my first bondage foursome. 
I forced a smile to my lips, but I knew that my 
features were stiff and unmoving. Part of me wished I 
was elsewhere - anywhere but here - but another part of 
me was almost ready to face the inevitable.

That first night Mark had put me into that hogtie had 
been the beginning of an incredible adventure for me. 
He had kept me tied up, as he'd said he would, until 
bedtime. He'd massaged my cramped limbs from time to 
time, and had let me drink my coffee through a straw, 
holding the mug just before my face. And he'd taken yet 
more pictures of me. 

When he finally released me, he had taken me with a 
fury that just about driven every breath from my body. 
I was asleep in his arms, even before I got into bed 
properly. In short, it had been an incredible evening. 
One which I will never forget.

And, to my joy, it had been repeated. Not once, but 
several times. And each time, the feelings of being 
tied up like that generated even more unbelievable 
sensations within my helpless body.

And now, I was going to take another giant step into 
the unknown. Bruce and Mark were going to tie us two 
girls up. This was no longer going to be a private 
thing, just between Mark and myself, but was going to 
become more public in a way. I was now used to Mark 
controlling my body. After all, he was my husband, but 
Bruce took on the aspect of a total stranger to my 
tensed thinking.

I glanced at Susan's face. It was perfectly relaxed 
whereas, I knew, mine was as tight as a drum. I was 
immediately aroused by the excitement that blazed from 
my friend's eyes.

"We might as well start," Bruce announced.

My stomach clenched painfully. I had hoped that we 
would chat for a while, to help relax me, as we usually 
did, but that clearly wasn't going to happen tonight.

Susan moved to stand beside me. "Relax, Teddy," she 
breathed in my ear. "You might as well enjoy it, for 
there is no backing out now."

And the expression of almost grim resolve on the faces 
of the two men confirmed that notion.

"They've got it all planned," Susan added, giving me 
one of her best carefree grins.

"Right then," Bruce announced. "You first, Susan."

Susan gave me a final smile and quickly removed her 
clothes, discarding them as though they were on no 
particular importance to her. She stood naked and 
continued to smile at us all, clearly completely at 
ease with her nudity, even before Mark and myself.

Bruce gestured for her to lie down on her front on the 
thick rug that softened the center of the room.

She did so, and submissively positioned her arms behind 
her back. She was plainly completely ready to suffer 
whatever happened to her.

Bruce tied her wrists together, whilst Mark busied 
himself with her ankles. Neither man, I noticed, made 
any attempt to be gentle. They were giving her the full 
treatment, as Bruce was inclined to remark.

Together, they roughly pulled her elbows together and 
roped them tightly. Susan uttered a cry at the 
harshness of this treatment, but they ignored her.

I felt strangely moved to watch my friend being treated 
in this way. Part of me was repelled by their actions, 
whilst another part of me had to admit that I was 
actually excited by it. I had never seen a girl roughly 
handled like this before, and I wondered how I would 
take it. I suddenly realized I wanted them to do this 
to me too, so that I would know.

Working together, as though they had been doing this 
all their lives, they pulled Susan's ankles and wrists 
together, securing her body into a clearly painful 
curve. One of them grabbed her pony tail, tied a rope 
to it and fastened it to her ankles, pulling her head 
back in what must have been a most uncomfortable 
position.

They stood up and looked down on their helpless victim 
who, I could see, was struggling to keep tears at bay.

"Not bad," Bruce remarked, formally shaking Mark by the 
hand. "She'll be good for a couple of hours like that."

"I reckon," Mark agreed, glancing at me for the first 
time. 

I had a feeling he'd forgotten all about me until that 
moment.

"You next," Bruce announced, turning in my direction.

I knew exactly what to do. Susan had already 
demonstrated how. I glanced down at her helpless body, 
and caught myself almost wanting to suffer with her. 
She was, after all, my best friend. With nervous 
fingers, I removed my clothing, and discarded it, and 
stood naked before the two men. I felt horribly ill at 
ease and embarrassed, for I wasn't comfortable with my 
nudity, as Susan was. 

Nor could I help noticing the hungry look in Bruce's 
eyes, when he ran his eyes over my trembling body. The 
expression in his eyes sent a shock of exquisite terror 
right through me, for I sensed that he was really 
looking forward to getting me in his power.

I went to get down beside my friend on the floor, the 
thought flitting through my mind that when they had me 
trussed up like Susan, I would be able to suffer with 
her, and we would be able to compare notes when the two 
men left us alone, as I was sure they would.

However, just as I was off balance, the two men grabbed 
me, lifted me off the ground, and carried me through to 
the bedroom, where I immediately saw that ropes had 
already been attached to the posts that formed the 
perimeter of the four-poster. And I knew what they were 
for. Susan had already spoken about how some of her 
girlfriends had pegged her out, spreadeagled, on a 
friend's back lawn for a while, and how incredibly 
exposed being secured in that position made you feel.

I struggled furiously. I didn't want this. I hadn't 
agreed to it. But then I realized I hadn't agreed to 
anything specifically - just a bondage evening - and 
this was it!

Despite offering all the resistance I could, they 
quickly had me lashed widely spreadeagled, my legs and 
arms stretched to their very limit. And the ropes were 
very tight too. They'd had no mercy for me either!

"That'll do nicely," Bruce decided. And he shook hands 
with Mark again.

As Susan had said, the two of them had had it all 
arranged.

Without a further word, they left the room, closing the 
door behind them, leaving me alone, with only the 
ceiling above me in my field of vision.

The door opened slightly and a hand reached through the 
gap, and switched off the light. The door closed again, 
leaving me in total darkness.

This was completely different from being hogtied. There 
wasn't the constriction, or the relentless pull on the 
back, but there was something else. I was totally 
exposed sexually, and I had absolutely no means of 
resisting whatever they decided to do to me.

And from the brutal way they'd trussed up Susan, and 
the rough way they'd handled me, I got the feeling that 
they'd be in for the kill tonight.

There was silence for a long time, only punctuated by 
occasional murmurs of conversation from the two men, 
and I lay and wondered what was going to happen next.

Then I heard Susan cry out, and continue to emit a 
series of anguished whimpers. I couldn't imagine what 
they were doing to her but, whatever it was, it sounded 
painful.

Was it an act to scare me, I wondered. It was possible. 
I wouldn't put it past them. And Susan, I knew, would 
enjoy taunting someone like that. But, somehow, it 
sounded real. There was absolutely no hint of Susan's 
captivating giggle. I had a nasty feeling that what I 
was hearing was genuine.

And then I remembered the intent look on Bruce's face 
when he he'd first seen me standing naked before him. 
Mark had the usual lustful expression on his face that 
I had learnt to expect from him, but Bruce's expression 
was much more potent somehow. Not hateful, as though he 
wanted to injure me in some way, but something beyond 
normal lust. I couldn't describe it, but it excited me 
beyond measure, as well as frightening me, because I 
knew he would pursue his objective - me - to the very 
limit this evening. Nor would Mark stop him, for they 
were brothers in arms at the moment.

This went on for quite a time. Then there was silence 
for a while. Then further cries of distress. I wished I 
were with Susan, as I'd thought I would be, then I 
could offer her some sort of emotional support. For, 
whatever they were doing to her, she was being forced 
to suffer it alone.

And as they tortured her, I could sense their mounting 
excitement, the two men leading each other on to 
afflict even more pain on their helpless victim. And I 
was also conscious that not once did Susan beg them to 
stop. Did that make her a totally willing victim? 
Strangely enough, and I had no idea why, but I found 
the thought of that possibility rather exciting.

I wondered what they were doing to her, and wished I 
could witness her suffering, instead of being forced to 
hear it in the distance.

She would doubtless tell me all about it the next time 
we met, but that would only be secondhand. I really 
wanted to see what they were doing to her now. I had, 
in my own mind, promised myself that I would be tied up 
beside her so that we could share in the ordeal as 
friends. And part of me needed to convince myself that 
I could survive as well as Susan could. But by their 
action, the men had taken that knowledge from me. I 
simply didn't know what they were doing to her.

Nor had I had any idea that my Mark was into that sort 
of thing. And I thought I knew him pretty well too. My 
opinion of him was that he was a gentle sort of man. It 
just showed that people had sides to them which you 
didn't suspect.

But, still, I'd succumbed to this bondage game, hadn't 
I? Who would ever have thought that possible a few 
weeks ago?

This went on for what felt like hours. Being in total 
darkness, I had no means of judging the passing of 
time. My outstretched limbs had, by now, become 
accustomed to the constriction, having passed the 
initial discomfort stage. I began to wonder if I would 
agree to this again, and immediately realized that I 
would. I was hooked. It had become a part of me, much 
as Susan had asserted it would. 

The door opened very quietly, and I felt rather than 
heard the two men enter the room. I tried to peer 
through the darkness, but could only make out the vague 
outlines of two forms. I had no idea which was Mark, 
and which was Bruce, for they were both roughly the 
same height and build.

They approached the bed. And I knew immediately, with 
acute feminine awareness, what was going to happen 
next. They were both going to pack rape me!

Both! 

Now, Mark was my husband, so it would be all right. But 
Bruce? He was not my husband, so it would not be all 
right. And would it be all right with Mark? Would he 
allow his friend to take me? And had they both taken 
Susan already? The questions mounted in my bewildered 
mind.

I was looking forward to Mark taking me, as I was 
completely ready for him. Then I recalled how Bruce and 
I had really fancied each other once, but had never 
actually got it together. And then Susan came along and 
swept Bruce off his feet. 

But, whatever my thoughts in the matter, I had nothing 
to say about it, for I was utterly helpless. Nor did I 
even ask them what they were about, for I knew it 
wouldn't make a scrap of difference to the outcome.

Several of my girlfriends had admitted to entertaining 
a secret fantasy of being pack raped. And they'd all 
said the same thing, that they would want to be 
overpowered in some way so that they were helpless to 
prevent what was going to happen to them. That way, no 
blame could be attached to them, nor would they need to 
feel guilty afterwards, because it had all been out of 
their control.

And now it was actually going to happen to me! I knew 
that for certain sure, for the two men had quietly 
stepped closer to the bed, and one of them was already 
bending over me.

But which one?

end

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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 47