A lesson well taught 6 | bondage story | bound, gag, ropes

Joanne couldn't remember ever being this frightened before or since. They could die here, right here and her panic increased. This was just an awful nightmare, a screaming nightmare of the kind only Stephen King could dream up. She'd read Gerald's Game (about someone playing kinky bondage games with her husband in the privacy of their secluded mountain cabin far from civilization who she accidentally killed with a well aimed kick to the head being handcuffed to their bed against her will) but this was worse, much worse. She'd never, in her wildest dreams, dreamt that she might find herself in exactly the same situation as Gerald's wife – and that woman hadn't had to worry about choking on only the world's biggest ballgag stuffed in her mouth. It was already killing her and she tearfully glanced around before panicking again. She had to get out, escape no matter what. She desperately tugged against the cold, hard unyielding cuffs pinioning her wrists behind her back but all she succeeded in doing was bruising her wrists.

Traci gustily exhaled through her nose while she helplessly watched Joanne. Her friend was almost out of control now and she screamed out aloud as loudly as she could.

Someone was yelling and Joanne miserably lifted her head. Had someone come to rescue them? Nope. It was Traci. She was saying something, at least it sounded like she was trying to say something. The size of the ball strapped in Traci's mouth mangled her speech but it wasn't as large as her terribly, terribly tight gag and she was actually able to form some words. It sounded a bit like, 'Try not to worry, we'll get out of this Ok. Calm down please.' Instead of the condemnation she'd half-expected to see, Traci's eyes contained a wordless sympathy and the smile appearing around the corners of her mouth made her feel much better. Her resourceful friend would know what to do. She gustily exhaled through her nose before nodding. Traci was right. There wasn't much point fighting her bonds. Panic would kill her as swiftly and surely as a dagger through her heart. Nevertheless, she knew that she would stay bound and gagged for God knows how long, certainly at least until Traci figured out what to do. Her gag was a balloon and it was exponentially expanding every minute. The strain being placed upon her distended jaws was already just about unbearable and she miserably squeezed her eyes shut before trying not to cry again. Oh well. All she could do was wait – and if they somehow got out of this, learn from the experience.

How would Baylea Kensington handle this situation? Traci wearily shook her head. Her gag wasn't really hurting (yet) but the constant unrelenting strain on her jaws was bothering her owing to the way Jo had attached it to the ropes circling her body – and she'd pulled everything tight forcing her head well back so relieving the strain was more or less out of the question – as well as making movement more difficult and she inwardly sighed again. The silly cracks she'd made about escaping had come back to haunt her, big time. It wasn't the first time her big mouth had cost her but ever anything like this! Whatever. She could see Joanne watching her again. Her face was lifted upwards in unmistakeable supplication. The gag was huge in Jo's mouth and Traci knew how much it would be affecting her. Even the smaller two-inch model securely strapped in her mouth could really ache after any length of time. Joanne's cheeks were wet with her tears and she smiled again, more to revive her friend's flagging spirits rather than out of any real hope or optimism.

Somehow Joanne incredibly managed to return her smile and she grinned again before winking. Attaboy… Brave girl! Traci thought. Not to worry, we'll get out of this somehow. Oh, I'm just so, so stupid! I should've realised this might happen! Her brain was wracked with guilt and self-recrimination. Joanne was obviously hurting but worst of all, there was nothing she could do to help her friend. Well… I had no idea this was gonna happen. Traci consoled herself with the thought she couldn't have possibly anticipated what might have happened. She'd expected Joanne to settle down with a book as she often did whilst around or watch TV. Certainly not anything like this. The thing is, it happened and I've got to sort this one out. That was the bottom line. Unlike the tales in the Internet site, 'Jeb's Adventure Bound', which she enjoyed reading, no knight in shining armour was going to come galloping up and rescue them.

Nobody knew where they were. She'd just had her weekly phone chat with Mum a day or so ago and she wouldn't raise the alarm for ages. Ditto for work. She'd been sick but again none of her colleagues would wonder why she was suddenly out of circulation. Her hacking cough was a pretty hard thing to fake and it hadn't been long before her concerned boss sent her home. As it was also only Tuesday, her girlfriends probably wouldn't get around to calling until the weekend. Traci was uncomfortably aware that it could, probably would be days before anybody realised they were missing and sent someone over to have a look. By then it would be too late. They could go without food for weeks but water was a different matter – and that was if panic or shock didn't kill them first. The ropes circling her tightly bound wrists and elbows were red-hot brands burning her aching arms. Worse, the circulation was gradually disappearing. She still wasn't having any trouble flexing her fingers but another hour or so would finish them off. That gave her… something like two hours, perhaps three, tops before her hands eventually became dead, useless stumps. Then they would really be fucked. Suddenly frightened again, she tried not to think about the consequences of losing her hands – assuming they survived long enough. How would she ever explain something like the loss of her hands away?

It was a perilous situation not even the fertile brains at Jeb's were capable of conjuring. The irony of her situation was palpable. How long had she fantasised about finding herself in such a situation? Now she was in exactly the same kind of peril she'd read about – but there was nothing in the least funny about this at all. It was all too painfully real and she softly exhaled again before breathing inwards and replenishing her lungs.

While Joanne miserably squirmed around on the floor, Traci closed her eyes again before carefully taking stock. She must not panic. That would kill both of them. Don't panic. It was a mantra she repeated over and over again. There had to be some way out of this but she had to think through everything first. One step at a time. Joanne was already out of the action. She couldn't move because of the spreader-bar forcing her legs apart. The strain on her shoulders and bound arms must be immense. Traci sighed again before forcing any sympathy for her friend out of her mind. She needed her mind as clear as possible so she could think.

She could hardly move either. She'd been so tightly bound that achieving any kind of movement, much less forward motion would be right up there with synchronized diving on the level of difficulty. Thank God I can still move around at least. Traci didn't even want to think how much trouble they would've been in if Joanne had tethered her to the couch. It was a small mercy, a very small mercy – and one which might just save their lives. Ok… Traci knew the first order of business was to try and see if she could untie herself. Test my bonds again. Maybe she's left a weak link. Although Traci knew in her heart that somehow finding an escape route and untying herself was highly unlikely, she had to make the effort anyway. She'd purposely instructed Traci to locate every knot where she couldn't reach them as well as tying each one as tight as possible. If only she'd given as much thought to some kind of release in the event of emergency. Don't think about it, she told herself. Just get on with it. She had to eliminate each option before moving onto the next one.

Deep breath… Joanne carefully gripped her hogtie rope before straining backwards as far as she could. Maybe, just maybe if she could loosen it or even… somehow untie her feet – then she could hop over to the kitchen where her collection of kitchen knives were stored in a drawer. They'd be out of here in a shake of a duck's tail once she found a suitably sharp blade. She was aware of Joanne's hopeful gaze while she tested her bonds. Her terrified eyes never left hers while she methodically explored everything with her fingers. Fortunately she remained quiet save for the occasional uncomfortable grunt as she shifted position.

Nothing. There was nothing. She hadn't expected to find anything but the knowledge still came as a bitter blow to Traci. She hadn't had any trouble reaching the ropes lashing her ankles together - but the knots for those had been tied on the outside of her ankles. She'd even made sure that Jo put them there. The ropes attaching her hands to her feet were steel cables. There was no slack or give in anything – and the knots for those were located waaay above her tightly bound elbows. After all, the whole objective of bondage was just that, wasn't it? How she'd longed for tight inescapable bondage – and now she'd gotten what she wanted. Be careful what you wish for. Yeah, right. Another bitter irony. She would give anything to be out of here now.

Well. Freeing herself was out of the question and she ruefully shook her head again. She'd taught Joanne well, much, much too well. Her imaginative friend had done a sterling job of tying her up and this was the brutally tight, inescapable result of her handiwork. Incredibly she was wet again. The combination of layer upon layer of gut-wrenchingly tight ropes, her crotchrope – and most of all, the knowledge that she couldn't untie herself was turning her on again. Despite the increasingly desperate nature of their predicament, Traci couldn't help smiling into her gag. What would Jo say if only she knew how she was obtaining the most perverse pleasure out of all this? Why? The answer wasn't far away. Because this is real bondage. Tight and utterly inescapable! Just how I love being tied up. Traci closed her eyes again before willing herself to concentrate on the problem at hand. Think, Traci, think! She glanced around again. Come on, you have to do it!

Joanne was still now and Traci sadly studied her friend. She wasn't comatose or anything but she was clearly suffering. From long experience, Traci knew that Jo would probably be feeling as if her arms were being pulled out of their sockets by now, never mind the gag strapped in her mouth. Suddenly Joanne glanced up again and Traci could see the agony of her bondage as well as sudden hopeless despair reflected in her brimming eyes. She'd watched her escape attempt, such as it was, fail – and she'd obviously given up all hope. Joanne shook her head again before smiling again. Don't give up yet. It's never over until the fat lady sings.

As if receiving her telepathic thoughts, Joanne visibly relaxed, spirits buoyed by her seeming confidence and she relaxed before wracking her brain again. She had to lever herself off this bloody couch somehow and find something she could use to cut through her bonds. That much was clear. Stay where she was and they would both... Don't think about it! Once her hogtie ropes were gone, the rest would be easy. In theory. She still had to find Joanne's handcuff keys and unlock her cuffs which wouldn't be easy with her arms tied behind her back. Even if she could cut the cords lashing her wrists together, she wasn't supple enough to repeat the feat with her elbows. There wasn't any point thinking that far ahead. One step at a time…

The kitchen was out. She'd never reach the drawers were everything was kept. Bound like this, the most she could hope to achieve was reaching her destination of choice – and even that wouldn't be easy. Traci angrily shook her head. Why on earth had she asked Jo to tie her up like this? Her hogtie was so tight! Because you love it, you idiot! She strained against her bonds again before giving up.

The straps attached to the ball wedged in her mouth were pulling her lips backwards as she strained around to see if there was anything else she could do. Maybe she could try phoning for help. She slowly shook her head before rejecting that idea. Her home cordless was way out of reach where it'd been mounted in its wall socket. Her mobile was out as well because she'd slung everything on top of the dresser after getting home and her bedroom was too far away anyway. It would be hours by the time she wriggled that far – and her fingers would be gone by then. She needed her hands to operate a phone or handling any kind of sharp implement. Traci nervously bit down on the ball filling her mouth before anxiously flexing her fingers as hard as she could. They were already being imperceptibly paralysed by the creeping numbness stealing through her hands like a thief in the dead of night and her heart contracted with fear. The longer she sat around…

She glanced around again. No joy on the coffee table. A few old, well-thumbed home decorator magazines and a couple of empty coffee cups. Nothing she could use to free herself there. Suddenly she remembered the table and excitement suddenly flared in her heart.

The dining room table where she'd been working out her beastly tax earlier. She'd left a pair of scissors up there. They came in useful for trimming larger receipts before filing everything – but much more importantly, they were still new – and painfully sharp. They would slice through the soft sash cord like butter. She could do it! They would be free very soon and she squirmed with excitement and joy. At long last. Startled Joanne stared into her face before smiling. Somehow she'd guessed the cause of her elation and Traci eagerly nodded before jerking her head sideways in the direction of the table behind the settee. Hopefully she would understand her intent. Apparently, Jo did because she nodded assent before smiling again. She looked much happier.

She had little time to spare. Her hands were increasingly numb and she hurriedly gathered herself before rocking sideways. The angled seat of the soft sofa was making it virtually impossible to escape. She'd been so tightly bound that obtaining the crucial leverage she needed was terribly difficult and she miserably groaned into her tight gag before closing her eyes and inhaling as deeply as possible. She had nothing to lose – except… Fuck it! Stop thinking about it! Traci angrily told herself before taking the leap. Despair and madness lay down the one-way highway to Hell. road. It was the last place she wanted to travel. The ground was very far away and all she could do was hope she didn't hurt herself upon landing. Fortunately the thick, soft sheepskin rug Joanne was lying on would cushion her fall but it would also make moving that much harder. Oh well. One thing at a time.

Another deep breath… She instinctively tensed, bunching her muscles for the titanic effort she had to make. Here goes. She sprang. Incredibly, for all the effort involved, it still only left her precariously perched several frustrating centimetres away from the edge. With a sinking heart, Traci realised that this wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought. If she was already experiencing this much trouble simply getting off the bloody couch, what would the journey to retrieve those scissors be like? Don't think about it. One thing at a time. Aware she was beginning to slip downwards again, she hurriedly squirmed sideways so she wouldn't slip backwards and end up being forced to begin all over again. Joanne's eyes were hopeful as she watched every move and it reminded how reliant Jo was on her. If she failed… Gasping for breath, she inhaled again through her nose before steeling herself. The room was uncomfortably warm and her sweat-soaked ropes were imperceptibly tightening. Have to hurry. Not much time left.

She heaved herself upwards again before landing on the edge where she teetered before catching her breath again. The floor looked much further away and she hesitated before taking the plunge. She had no choice, no option. All she could do was go for it and hope for the best. Joanne's eyes were very wide while she watched her preparing to make the big jump and she would've smiled if not for the danger of the situation. A sudden series of 'bongs!' from the wall-mounted clock told her it was already five o'clock and she instinctively glanced outside. The shadows were already lengthening. Another reason to hurry. It wouldn't be much fun spending the night like this, never mind the fate which would befall her bound hands.

She closed her eyes again before taking a deep breath and wriggling sideways. The fall was as short as it was sudden. A split second later she hit the soft rug before groaning as everything tightened yet again. It seemed the more she battled her bonds, the harder they fought back. Joanne was only feet away and she flashed her a quick smile. Traci could see hope in her friend's eyes where there'd been none only a few minutes ago and it spurred her on. She had to navigate her way around the plushly padded sofa before wriggling across ten or so feet of carpet before reaching the table. It was a trip she'd made countless times but never whilst as helplessly bound and gagged like this. Then she would have to find a way of upending everything before setting off again and locating the elusive scissors among the debris. A bit like crossing the Sahara barefoot on a gallon of water and a prayer.

If she'd had any doubts how difficult this was going to be, they'd been well and truly blown out of the water with the trouble she'd had leaving the settee. She'd basically been bound in a neat little parcel which ensured any kind of movement would be anything but easy. If only she hadn't asked Jo to tie her arms so tightly together. They felt as if they'd been welded together. The ropes circling her arms were steel manacles just like the ones Jo was wearing and they were just as impossible to break. Traci shook her head before staring ahead and gritting her teeth. Why was she always so negative about everything? She'd made it this far so far, hadn't she? One thing at a time!

Joanne was only a couple of feet away and she tried to roll on her side but the tightness of her bondage prevented her from achieving much more than tightening everything yet again (or so it seemed). Her arms were on fire now but she resolutely blocked out the agony before giving her a consoling smile. Joanne looked upset again and Traci knew it was her failure to roll across and provide the comfort she needed. Hardly the reassuring start they needed.

Oh well. It was time to get going. With a grin and wink in the direction of Joanne's tortured face, she wriggled off on her epic journey. It was much harder going than she'd expected. Generating any kind of forward movement was almost impossible and a lesser person would've given up within minutes. If anything, she was all but immobile. She could wiggle her fingers, toes as well as moving her head a couple of inches each side and it was virtually the extent of her mobility. It was only her immense reserves of strength, fitness and the deep sense of guilt over letting Joanne down, which drove her onwards. It was an excruciating journey. Every half-wriggle/bounce forward put more pressure on her bonds. The sheer exertion involved left her drenched in sweat and it quickly soaked the cords circling her arms and body, thus tightening everything that much further. Her breasts were also increasingly sore and chafed from wriggling forwards on the cheap 'soft' pile nylon carpet. The forward motion had pulled her bra down, exposing her soft breasts and nipples to the rough carpet but there was nothing she could do about it. However the carpet burn was the least of her worries. Her aching wrists and hands were almost numb now. She still had some movement in her fingers but it wouldn't last much longer.

It was a classic Catch 22 situation – the harder she fought, the more she tightened everything – and it was speeding up the process of cutting off the circulation she depended upon for ultimate escape. However, Traci knew she had no choice. Stay where she was and it would only draw out the agonising end result that much further. If she was going to go down, she might as well go out fighting. Never give up.

Her lungs were on fire and she stopped before gasping for breath. The size and tightness of her gag was severely restricting the air supply she needed to feed her screaming lungs and keep going. She also had no idea that the tightness of her bondage had contributed to her breathing problems because the muscles she depended upon to drag air into her lungs had been pulled taut with the tightness of the cords lashing her arms together. She'd just reached the end of the settee and Traci could see the clock ahead. She couldn't believe how long this was taking. Half an hour to cover what... four or five feet? The table was further away than ever. Only ten feet but… it might as well be the stormy width of the Atlantic Ocean. She moaned into her gag before biting down on the ball. She didn't want Jo to know how badly this was going. Although she couldn't see Joanne anymore, she was aware of the girl's anxious eyes following her and she inwardly sighed before awkwardly wriggling around again until she was more or less facing the table.

This was all too much excitement, much more than she'd ever bargained for after roping Joanne into her kinky games. She was really living huh? Well, you wanted excitement and you got it. Even so. Bound, gagged and fighting for her life wasn't exactly her idea of suburban utopia. Sex and the City this wasn't. This kind of thing only happened to other people. Not her. But here she was, tied up within an inch of her life scrambling across a million miles of carpet to retrieve the scissors which would save their lives.

She was aware of the lengthening shadows as they inexorably inched across the carpet, plunging the room into a Stygian gloom and she reluctantly set off again.

It took all of Joanne's limited willpower to fight back the panic bubbling away deep below while she watched the tightly bound Traci squirming across the carpet. Her progress was painfully slow and she couldn't help wondering how long this was going to take. It was easy to see how tight Traci's bonds were and her face burned. The shrunken sweat soaked cords were cutting into Traci's bare skin now and she nervously studied her friend's hands. She didn't like the ugly bluish-grey tingeing her skin and she inwardly sighed before swallowing.

So far Traci had only covered five feet in about half an hour of gut-wrenching effort – and she'd already stopped to rest. It wasn't hard to see how tiring all this was for Traci and her guilt returned. This was all her fault. If only… If only she hadn't gotten carried away and tied herself up like this. At the time it'd seemed like a great idea. She'd genuinely wanted to be bound and gagged alongside her best friend so they could enjoy a couple of hours of tight bondage together - although she was painfully aware in her heart of hearts that this happened for no other reason than pride. She'd been showing off and they were paying a heavy price for her incredible, blind dumb stupidity. Her gag was killing her but she dared not complain. Her jaws were on fire now although the flames had subsided to a steady, dull throbbing ache. There was no way known she could push that hateful ball out because she'd strapped it in her mouth only about as tight as she could to avoid just that temptation. It was an immovable rock and she miserably hung her head again. This was her punishment for carrying on like a pork chop earlier. Everything was hurting now, most of all her bound arms. There was no way to relieve the strain either because she'd tied herself up as tightly as possible. If only she could relieve the intolerable pressure upon her aching arms and shoulders but she'd deliberately made her hogtie as tight as possible in order to show Traci she had what it took – and she'd failed the test miserably. Now she was here going through a torture not even Saddam's henchmen were capable of devising and she cursed herself again underneath her breath. It was the least she deserved for creating this situation.

Well. Traci wasn't giving up and Joanne knew that she must not give up either while she fearfully watched her friend disappearing behind the settee with an agonising slowness. Suddenly her bound feet vanished, heaving her helplessly bound and very, very alone.

Loneliness was a relative thing. She'd always enjoyed her own company, even to the extent of travelling away by herself but this was starkly different from every other occasion she'd been by herself. Traci's company had helped her endure the first awful hour of bondage or so but she was alone with nobody to reassure her now. Traci's comforting glances and wordless support had vanished behind the tall, wide settee and her fear increased until it was a physical thing. An icy cold fist was gripping her heart and she closed her eyes before trying not to cry again. Be brave, Jo, she told herself. Think positive! She'll get us out of this. I know she will. It won't be much longer now before we get out of this then we'll be able to laugh about this later.

Even so it wasn't easy remaining positive while her gag continued swelling within her aching mouth until she thought her jaws would explode from the strain. In fact it was the hardest thing in the world and she miserably glanced around the still, silent room. She'd never been as scared before or since. She'd never, ever been anywhere near as helpless in her life since her earliest days and it was an utterly horrible feeling. She was totally dependent upon Traci finding a way out. What if… Traci failed? Then they would… Oh my God… Her stomach churned again like a tumble-dryer and she could feel a hot gorge rising before hurriedly pushing everything backwards. No, don't think about it. Joanne squeezed her eyes shut before pushing the terrible thought out of her mind. She didn't even want to go there. Otherwise she would panic. Insanity was a road easily travelled.

As it was, she was already having trouble breathing. Her gag was just too big, too tight and controlling her gag reflex was increasingly difficult. Joanne knew that if she was sick now, whether Traci escaped or not, the end result would be academic. She closed her eyes again before concentrating on breathing inwards, then outwards. Breathe deep like the dinosaurs in the Dinotopia stories she enjoyed reading. She had to remain calm. Of course Traci would find some way out.

All she could do was helplessly wait and she uncomfortably shifted position with a clatter of chains before groaning again. The more she thought about how much all this was hurting, the greater the agony. A bit like her teeth. Whenever she'd had a toothache, thinking about the pain always made it worse. Joanne shook her head again before focusing upon her breathing. At least it would give her something to do until she was released.

The only sound disturbing the unnatural, hushed stillness was the occasional scuffling, scraping sound as Traci inched across the carpet and her laboured breathing. She'd lost all track of time although the deepening shadows told her nightfall wasn't far away. The endless minutes dragged past with the slowness of a hot summer afternoon while she impatiently waited for Traci's return. A minute was an hour and an hour was an eternity. She'd never looked forwards to anything so much as the sight of her friend's triumphal return with the precious keys clutched in her hands.

The only good thing about her bondage was the tight crotchrope she'd tied on herself. It was massaging her tingling clit again and she couldn't help sighing out aloud with pleasure. Suddenly, Joanne realised that she was actually turned on again and she disbelievingly shook her head. They were in mortal danger and she was getting off on this. Why? That helplessness thing of course. It was a charge like no other and she sighed again before concentrating upon her aching privates. Suddenly her gag no longer hurt as much as she carefully humped against the cords wound around and between her crotch. Joanne didn't care whether this was wrong or not, she was simply glad of the temporary distraction the tight cords provided. Her puss was on fire again while she eagerly bucked and heaved against her bonds. Even the slightest movement was enough because like a spiderweb, the ropes wound around her body instantly transmitted every gyration to her waiting crotchrope below.

It was rubbing hard against her tender and swollen clit now and wave after wave of pleasure coursed throughout her slim body. She guiltily glanced around as if Traci might spot what was going on only metres away before pulling on her crotchrope as hard as she could. She'd already learnt that all you had to do was grind your hips as if making love (which in a way and sense, she was) in order to produce the delicious stimulation she desperately needed. Despite the tightness of her bondage, she'd succeeded in sawing the cords against her excited tingling clitoris and she stiffened before wailing out aloud into her gag as a delicious warm wetness engulfed her aching pussy. Suddenly scared Traci would hear her cries and guess what she was up to, she bit down hard on the ball filling her mouth as she climaxed in an unstoppable, convulsive rush that left her sweat soaked and drained.

Suddenly she felt much better. It was a good omen which would sustain her through the interminable, intolerable waiting game she had to endure.

At long last after the most agonising journey she'd ever endured, Traci reached the dining room table. Her breasts had been rubbed raw by the carpet, her arms and legs were on fire and her mouth was being split into two by the gag strapped in her mouth. Even her crotchrope hurt as well. Every time she'd bounced/wriggled forward, it'd buried itself deep in her crotch and after almost two hours of this torment, she'd had enough of her 'joy' rope.

It was almost five thirty now. She'd checked out the time just before reaching the table. So far it'd taken an hour and a half to reach this point. Exhausted and thoroughly dispirited, Traci paused to catch her breath. She still had a long way to go. Somehow tip the bloody thing over then wriggle around everything, locate those scissors and cut her hogtie rope.

Easy.

Not.

She could hardly feel her bound wrists now. The deep throbbing, burning ache had almost gone and stark fear filled her heart while she tested her bonds. As long as they hurt, she knew her circulation was Ok, at least, sort of. However the disaster she'd feared was already occurring; the cords tied around her arms above as well as below her elbows were also cutting off her desperately needed supply of blood and further restricting circulation. She was finding it increasingly difficult telling her half-dead fingers what to do. They were obeying her instructions only with the greatest reluctance and she almost panicked again. No, no… you mustn't panic now, she told herself before desperately wriggling her frozen fingers to try breathe life back into them. The room was warm, uncomfortably so but her hands felt cold. Another bad sign.

As if she didn't have enough problems, her head felt as if someone was trying to cleave it into two with a jackhammer and she miserably groaned before shaking her head to chase away the dizziness. Must… must not faint, she told herself before gratefully inhaling a huge draught of cool air blown through the partially open window nearby. Pass out and they were both dead – as simple as that.

The reviving air was helping and she was already beginning to feel better although her pounding headache wouldn't go away. Time was of the essence now. Every second counted. Time to get going – now!

The table loomed above her and she glanced upwards. The scissors she needed were tantalisingly close now.

Knock it over… then grab the scissors… Why did she feel as though she was missing something? Confused and more scared than ever, Joanne shook her head. If she knocked everything right over, it meant another torturous journey around everything and she knew her hands would never last the distance. Her fingers would be gone by the time she reached the scissors in which case all that effort would've been for nothing – and Jo would die as well. Terror filled her heart while she thought about the slow, miserable, infinitely painful end in store for them if she failed now. Besides… they were too young to die. No… Please no… Don't think about it.

She glanced around where she knew Jo would be lying behind the couch. She would probably be scared out of her wits. Poor Jo. I just hope she's OK. Traci knew that Joanne would be feeling just as bad as her by now. There was nothing she could do about Jo though for the time being. Her priority had to be those scissors. Nothing else mattered.

She thoughtfully stared upwards. Think… think! Thank God it wasn't one of those heavy wood numbers. She remembered thinking about buying one of those before settling upon a smaller, lightweight West Australian jarrah table. Classically styled, the design would never date. The top was a perfectly rectangular three by six feet, which stood upon one-inch square legs. Jarrah is a particularly good quality, strong timer and there'd been no need to build anything stronger. It wasn't exactly lightweight but neither was it so heavy she couldn't push it over.

Hmmm… She had to position herself so she could grip everything with both hands before pushing upwards and trying to knock the scissors downwards. She remembered leaving them on the left-hand side near the corner opposite and the knowledge suddenly cheered her. She was almost perfectly positioned to tilt the table far enough so they would slide off. Hopefully. So… All she had to do now was wriggle forward just far enough to line her hands up with the leg before…

Fucking hell. The only was she was going to do that was somehow roll over on her side – and considering the way she'd been bound, that was easier said than done. However, she had to try otherwise… Traci gustily exhaled before steeling herself for the one last supreme effort. She was dog-tired and all she wanted to do was crash but to do so would be fatal. She longingly glanced upwards. So near yet so far.

Her hands were almost dead now and she frantically wormed forward before wriggling sideways as best as she could. She still had to roll on her side in order to lift the table and she needed more room. How she was going to accomplish this, she had no idea – but try she must or they were dead. It was such a chilling thought it spurred her on. She closed her eyes before offering up a prayer to God. Traci wasn't in the least bit religious but… times like this, any extra help one could obtain might help make all the difference. Besides, a little divine intervention wouldn't go astray anyway.

Her breath was coming in short gasps now and she paused before making the one last supreme effort needed. Time to take stock and plan ahead so she knew what to do. Her hammerlocked legs were OK. It was only her numb arms and hands which was the biggest worry. She'd been tied and gagged for almost two hours now and it wouldn't be long before her fingers became dead digits. Lift the table and try shaking it so the scissors would slide off. Cut her hogtie rope. Then try stand on her feet somehow and go get that knife. Cut the ropes lashing her hands together. She wouldn't be able to do anything about freeing her bound elbows but hopefully it would restore some, if not all of her lost circulation. Then she could think about retrieving the keys so Joanne could unlock her steel manacles. Theoretically anyway. Anything could happen.

The 'Anything' was something which didn't bear thinking about either. It was time to begin her rescue effort and she squirmed from one side to another, trying to build up enough momentum so she could roll on her side and reach the table. Despite the gravity of the situation, she badly wanted to laugh. Ordinarily she would've enjoyed being this tightly bound, revelling in her inability to move or escape. Her bonds were wonderfully, deliciously tight and she allowed herself the briefest of pauses to savour the ropes holding her captive. Her crotchrope was cleaving her cleft again and ignoring its siren song was also anything but easy as well. This was bondage distilled into its purest, rawest form.

Aware Joanne was relying on her, she rocked harder but all she succeeded in achieving was tightening everything and she miserably groaned into her gag before stopping and clawing air into her flaming lungs through her nose. She'd made it this far… Traci couldn't believe her attempt was about to end here and there all because she couldn't roll over. The biggest problem was the way her arms had been lashed together. She just had no leverage. Her tied legs, especially the way they'd been bound hard against her butt also prevented her from achieving much momentum either.

Well. All she could do was keep trying. She couldn't afford to give up.

Traci closed her eyes before leaping sideways but again all she managed was painfully tightening her bonds again before wearily giving up. The last vestiges of life was rapidly draining out of her numb hands. Her fingers were all-but-useless claws now and she shrieked into her gag as much out of misery as frustration. She would die right here and that was that. No! I will not die! She screamed again before flinging herself sideways.

Suddenly, incredibly, she found herself rolling over… toppling sideways before being brought to a sudden halt by the table leg thumping against her bound wrists. She'd done it. Somehow she'd made it and she happily yelled out aloud again before almost collapsing with relief.

She had little time to spare now and she painfully closed her fingers around the smooth, polished timber before lifting with as much strength as she could manage. It reluctantly rose with an audible groan and she truimphantly pushed her other hand underneath it before heaving everything upwards. It tilted upwards slightly before crashing down on her hand but she hardly noticed the sudden impact because the numbness of her skin prevented her registering anything.

Encouraged by her near success, Traci took a deep breath before tackling the table again. She bit down on her gag before pushing upwards again. A sudden awful clatter and a loud 'thump!' told her the heavy crystal vase containing a freshly cut bunch of roses had toppled over. She loved flowers and always ordered a fresh selection every week from the local florist. Suddenly the vase rolled sideways before crashing downwards with a spray of water and petals and she instinctively flinched. However, she didn't have time to mourn the loss of her roses in her determination to reach those scissors. She didn't even notice the water soaking the carpet as she strained harder, alternately raising the lowering the table, hoping to shake the scissors off. A slight scraping noise told her she was on the right track and she shook harder.

Suddenly an orange blur appeared in the corner of her vision and she gasped. The scissors. She'd done it. The orange-handled scissors had fallen and all she had to do was reach them and… A sudden vast relief so immense she almost vomited coursed throughout her shaking body while she frantically glanced around to see where they'd landed.

Joanne heard the terrible crashing and clattering of the collapsing vase before wondering what on earth was happening. Suddenly elated, she realised that Traci must've reached the table. Had she managed to knock it over or anything yet? She angrily pulled against the spreader bar forcing her to lie where she was. Dammit. If only she could see what was going on. This awful waiting game was worse than any other she'd ever endured. Not even a visit to the dentist to have two wisdom teeth taken out or waiting for the football Grand Final to begin even compared. Oh well. At least Traci was obviously making some progress and she anxiously settled down to wait. Her gag was alive now and she vainly tried to ignore the awful, persistent nagging throbbing spreading outwards from her partially numb jaws before silently vowing that she wouldn't wear this one ever again. From now on, it would be the two incher.

Oh my God… Traci disbelievingly stared. The scissors had unbelievably bounced the right way before landing only a foot and a half away in a damp patch of carpet. They were so close she could even see the tiny screw holding the blades together. At last something was going right and she silently cheered again. It was an incredible stroke of luck, which might just save their lives. She'd fully expected being forced to crawl as much as five or six feet before reaching them but they'd obligingly obeyed her silent prayers. Perhaps it was the divine intervention she'd sought. Miraculous was the only word she could use to describe what had just happened. She laid on her side, chest heaving from the effort before continuing.

Hurriedly, before her hands had time to pack up altogether on her, she flopped back on her stomach before squirming backwards. They were only inches away now and she gathered herself before launching herself into another body roll. Suddenly her fingers handed on the hard plastic of the handles and almost crying with relief, she dragged them towards her with almost totally numb fingers. Traci couldn't believe that she'd done it. Salvation was almost at hand now.

Oh no… Traci's heart plummeted while she vainly tried to force her deadened fingers around the handle. They just wouldn't cooperate and she felt like screaming. Surely she hadn't come this far only to be defeated at the last hurdle? Sobbing, she collapsed before wildly glancing around. Was she going to die right here? Those ropes were awfully, awfully tight and she knew no amount of struggling, pleading or prayer would loosen a single thing. No! She wouldn't do it. She would not give up.

Traci closed her eyes again before focusing on the scissors. They were all. Nothing else mattered. The cool plastic was immensely comforting and she allowed herself to hope that this Sisyphean nightmare might not last much longer. Her fingers still had some life left in them and she desperately wriggled each in turn before forcing them through the handle of the scissors. They obeyed but only with the greatest reluctance. Traci felt as if everything was occurring in slow motion while she patiently pushed the last one though before instructing it to close around the plastic. Panicking or rushing now would probably kill her and she forced herself to focus on one thing at a time. The sudden exertion as well as the muscular effort required to hold them was being transmitted to her wrist and she felt as if it was on fire while she slowly, painfully maneuvered the partially open blades between the ropes connecting her bound legs and her hands as well as the other cords ending just below her shoulders. Six in all. Six ropes she had to cut. Even five wouldn't be enough because they'd been tightly wound around everything and no amount of pushing or struggling would ever loosen or free anything.

This was just hopeless. The cold, merciless grip of the Grim Reaper was squeezing her heart and she shivered with terror before shaking her head. Fuck off. You're not getting me. Suddenly the sharp blades sliced through the first rope and she silently cheered again. Up yours. Another stroke of luck. After cutting the first rope, the blades immediately surrounded the second and she eagerly snipped right through the soft sash cord as if it was butter. No longer were they great iron bands burning her bound arms and wrists and Arnie's great one liner she remembered hearing in Predator suddenly lit up her brain like a neon sign. 'If it bleeds, it can be killed'. Perhaps it wasn't quite the same thing but it was certainly a fantastic feeling knowing she was slowly climbing on top.

Suddenly, everything was much looser and Traci couldn't help groaning with relief as the last tight cord parted. She'd never experienced anything close to the elation consuming her heart as she slowly, painfully allowed her stiff and sore legs to drop. She was all but halfway there now. Of course her temporary victory didn't solve the immediate problem of escaping as she was still tightly bound hand and foot – but at least she'd regained much of her all important mobility with virtually one fell swoop. Traci couldn't believe the difference simply cutting those ropes had made.

She closed her eyes before gustily exhaling. What a difference hope made. Five minutes ago, she was a dead woman. Suddenly, she had her whole life ahead of her. Almost. Don't count your chickens before they hatch. Ok now what? Traci carefully thought about her options while she caught her breath. Although her hands were almost totally numb by now, at least she could move around now to some extent – and it made all the difference. There was no way she could cut the ropes lashing around her ankles with her scissors, even if she had the full use of her hands. Therefore… The first order of business was hunt down a suitably sharp knife and free her hands. The cords circling her wrists had shrunk and they'd basically totally cut off what little circulation she had left.

Problems. Always more problems. Traci had no idea how she was going to manipulate a tiny kitchen knife with her hands and she quailed. She couldn't feel her fingers any more. They just wouldn't obey her commands. How was she going to carry the knife down for Jo to use on her? She certainly couldn't carry it in her mouth because the ball strapped between her aching jaws was too large to obtain any purchase.

Pushing it along the floor wouldn't help much because it didn't solve the problem of getting it into Jo's hands. She couldn't roll over or anything. The only way to help Jo was actually place it in her hands so she could do her elbows or feet. She wearily closed her eyes before sighing. She would worry about it later. She was bound to think of something along the way. Meanwhile she had to lift herself upwards so she could hop over to the kitchen – although how she was going to accomplish this with her head forced backward by the cords attached to her gag, she didn't know.

Well. She'd made it this far. She couldn't just stop now. The table was still above her and she painfully rolled sideways. Her shrunken, sweat-soaked bonds were terribly tight. All she wanted was out but Traci knew she still had a long way to go. Fortunately, she'd pulled one of the chairs out after finishing her tax and she wearily hauled herself upward before squirming around and kneeling. Traci couldn't believe how hard even something as simple as standing was with her hands so tightly bound behind her back. Of course it was the first time she'd ever been forced into actually escaping one of the very tight rope bondages she loved being put into for several blissful hours when it wasn't an option or even a consideration. Normally, she'd always had someone to keep an eye on her – as should've been the case today. Oh well, it wasn't Joanne's fault. She'd gotten carried away in the excitement of the moment. If she had had enough foresight to create a safeword for use in the case of emergency, they wouldn't be in this situation. One thing was for sure – if they got out of this, she would never take her precious freedom for granted again.

Traci smiled wanly. Bondage was freedom – but not when your life was hanging on a slender thread because you'd been bound and gagged in such a way escape was lucky. She glanced around the room before wondering how Joanne was going. She could hear her friend's laboured breathing and it spurred her on. She would've been tied up for almost two hours by now and she couldn't imagine a more difficult or energy-sapping bondage than the one Joanne had devised for herself. However it wasn't a time to feel sorry for her – sympathy wouldn't get them anywhere.

Every bone in her body was aching and she didn't even want to see what her face or ruined hair looked like after two hours of struggling. She was a sweaty wreck and her ordeal was far from over yet. Rising was much easier now she had the chair for support and she unsteadily staggered to her feet before swaying and almost stumbling. Standing was terribly difficult with her head forced far backwards by the ropes attached to her gag but luckily she could still see ahead – just.

The kitchen wasn't far away and she carefully hopped in the direction of the nearest cabinets. Keeping her balance was much harder bound like this and the last thing she wanted was a fall. Apart from the difficulty of rising in her current weakened state, she was also afraid of hurting herself. Fortunately she didn't have far to go and she managed to reach the safety of the island bench without incident.

Joanne could hear a strange, almost rhythmic thumping noise and she curiously listened while hope flared anew in her heart. Although she had no idea what was going on beyond the borders of her narrow world, she was sure it had to be Traci. Perhaps she'd somehow… freed herself? Oh… please, God… let it be Traci, she silently and fervently prayed. She couldn't hold out much longer. Her arms were killing her. Her gag was killing her even more. No wonder they call it a 'gag', she thought before vainly trying to relieve the incredible strain on her jaws. Biting down on the slightly elastic ball was impossible because it was so large.

Her hands were absolutely dead now. She couldn't even feel the cruelly tight cords lashing her wrists together and Traci bit down on the ball strapped in her mouth while she tried to pull out the drawer where the sharp food prep. knives were stored. She didn't want Joanne to know that they might not make it after all. Happily, the knife she was looking for was located right on the side. The expensive Solingen stainless steel knife was a virtual rapier. It would cut through anything, even a sheet of paper held on its side. Mmmm… Suddenly Traci realised that if she could prop it up with the blade facing her she could hold the drawer shut while she used it to slice through the ropes circling her wrists. It was so sharp that the slightest pressure would do the trick. She would have to be careful though – never mind bleeding to death was the least of her worries. She had nothing to lose anyway.

Retrieving the knife with her useless hands took forever and she'd begun to despair by the time it suddenly stood aloft as if propelled there of its own accord. Her heart was in her mouth as she painstakingly eased the drawer shut, trapping it in the very corner. She closed her eyes again before gasping for breath. The most delicate and undoubtedly dangerous part of the operation was about to begin and she needed all her wits about her. She needed to cut the cords circling her waist, her crotchrope looped over the cinching between her tightly bound wrists as well as the ropes wrapped around her wrists. That and… She not only had to cut everything without slicing her wrists open but also avoid knocking the knife back inside its hideyhole where she might never recover it. Easy.

Carefully, very carefully she positioned her bound wrists next to the knife before double-checking that the sharp blade was where it should be. Here goes… Traci leant against the drawer before gingerly sawing her bound wrists against the steel sword. She had no real way of telling if the blade was having any effect but already the pressure on her wrists was easing while she methodically continued sawing through everything and her heart leapt. Her crotchrope also felt much looser as well. The delicious pressure on her privates was gone now and she couldn't help sighing into her gag as the cords fell away. Her wild jubilation was tempered with melancholy as she lost the cords massaging her crotch.

She screwed her eyes shut before stopping and resting. Although all she wanted was out, out, out, Traci knew any rush or impatience could prove fatal. Her racing heart was aflutter and Traci knew she had to calm down before continuing. Her excitement was so great she could hardly think straight and she had to clear her head in case…

The butterflies occupying her chest had calmed down now and she patiently set off again. Up, down… up, down… The ropes were definitely loosening now and she cautiously retreated away from the knife before pulling hard on everything. With a socking suddenness, the cords parted and she leapt up and down before screaming out aloud with wild joy. She'd made it. They were going to be OK after all. Suddenly her eyes watered over and she sniffed before leaning against the bench for support. Never especially emotional, the knowledge how close they'd come to not making it was simply overwhelming and she suddenly couldn't cope any longer. Sudden bright tears flooded her eyes and she wept.

Her hands were tingling again and Traci groaned before biting down on her gag. The pins and needles were awful as warm blood flowed into her cold, dead hands. She was in agony. Better that though then staying numb though. She welcomed the pain because it meant her hands were going to be OK after all. Traci knew how lucky she'd been. She could've easily wound up with permanent nerve damage and it was nothing to laugh about.

"Beauty of Merciless Domination - Realless FemDom Art"

Traci suddenly felt as if she could keep going forever while she happily shook her wrists to chase the last pins and needles out of them. It was amazing how much sharper her vision was, how much brighter colours were. She was so happy she wanted to sing. Everything was going to be Ok. They would not die. Suddenly she remembered Joanne and her cheeks burned. It was her fault they were tied up like this. Poor Jo. She would be in agony now. Her guilt was a bright hot dagger piercing her heart and she hurriedly lurched in the direction of her bedroom.

Joanne's face was a picture as she returned with her knife and the precious keys before triumphantly dangling everything in front of her astonished, delighted face.

Joanne had heard the commotion and her frustration increased while she impotently strained against her bonds. Her aching arms were on fire now but Traci hadn't returned. The room was ominously, eerily quiet now and her unease increased while she glanced around. Where… was… she? She hadn't… fallen or anything? The sudden wild cry had been as startling as it was shocking and she hadn't been able to work out what it meant.

Suddenly Traci reappeared seemingly out of nowhere and Joanne couldn't help gasping. She was still bound and gagged as tightly as ever but… she was actually on her feet now – and the cords pulled between her crotch were dangling around her knees as well as the ropes circling her waist. However, it was Traci's drawn, haggard face which captured her attention the most of all. She looked awful. Her normally neatly groomed hair was a wild, tangled wreck. Traci's hot, red face was flushed from the huge effort she'd just made and all she could do was stare with utter astonishment, relief and shame. This wouldn't have happened if not for her stupidity. Traci simply smiled through the ball strapped between her lips before awkwardly cutting the rope attaching her wrist cuffs to the spreader bar.

The sudden relief was immediate and massive and Joanne felt like crying as the awful, unbearable pressure upon her burning, aching arms abruptly vanished. Too traumatised and relieved to feel any real elation with their sudden salvation, she collapsed before helplessly lying on the carpet.

"Mmgghhnnn!" A sudden loud grunt suddenly attracted her attention and she guiltily glanced upwards before realising what Traci wanted her to do. She hurriedly held out her aching wrists for Traci who awkwardly knelt down between her spread legs.

Traci couldn't believe this was happening. Half an hour ago, she'd run out of options and hope. Now she was untying Joanne – and they would both be free a couple of minutes from now. Jo was eagerly holding out her hands and she gently took them before carefully inserting the precious keys into the tiny keyhole and twisting.

The audible 'CLICK!' as each padlock sprang open was the sweetest music Joanne had ever heard and she hung her head before trying not to cry as Traci gently removed her wrist cuffs before attending to the strap above her elbows. Free at last. Her limp sore arms hung uselessly behind her back and she couldn't help groaning out aloud with pure relief and pleasure. At last, at long last. She was going to be OK after all.

Her guilt was the only thing she couldn't bear and she shamefacedly glanced into Traci's eyes before wearily hauling herself upwards and slowly untying her ankles. She'd behaved badly and she wanted to make amends. Although her tight gag was still killing her, she hurriedly picked up the knife before gently pulling Traci around and cutting her elbows free.

Traci's soft eyes held an infinite compassion she'd never expected to see as they wearily embraced, each realising how lucky they were to be here. Eventually Traci gently reached outwards before unbuckling each strap trapping the ball between her aching, half-numb jaws and she wonderingly reciprocated the gesture. It was a timeless, deeply emotional moment, which Joanne knew she would cherish forever as Traci tenderly popped the ball out of her mouth.

Joanne couldn't speak while she wonderingly studied her friend. They'd discovered a special new closeness which only those surviving a near-death experience can possibly appreciate. It was a bond which would endure forever and she was almost afraid to speak lest she spoil the moment.