Fog | bondage stories

There was something that struck me as being familiar as I drove past the house; a hundred yards further on and I realised that it was not just the appearance of the house but also the girlish figure sitting on the steps that was familiar. But I soon forgot the matter as I concentrated on finding the elusive place that was the subject of my quest. But, when that feeling of deja vu came round yet again, I clearly needed help. Who better to ask than a young lady with nothing better to do than sit on a short flight of steps that led up to her front door?

"Excuse me... ?" I called from the gate but she made no response. She might be deaf... or perhaps even dead? I called again but, with still not the slightest response, I really had little choice but to investigate further. At close range, I could clearly see the movement of her breasts and it meant she was certainly alive. I squatted in front of her. "Are you OK?"

"Yes... Thank you."

"Oh, that's a relief. I'm lost and I've driven past here three times; you haven't moved and you didn't respond when I spoke... ?"

"No. I'm quite all right," she said.

"Well, perhaps you could direct me to Welhome? I'm beginning to doubt it exists."

"Right out of the gate. Right at the crossroads and then immediately left. It's that last turn you're likely to miss."

"Ah. Yes. That probably explains it. But... er... are you quite sure... ? I mean... are you feeling OK?"

Just for that fleeting moment, I thought she was going to lift her face but, as she checked, I heard ... or at least I thought I heard... a sort of tinkling sound. A strangely familiar clinking sound. However, she remained silent and there was something wrong... ? I tried one last time. "I don't want to be a nuisance but... I have an unhappy feeling ... that you dohave a problem here? Won't you let me help?"

She made an impatient gesture and then the source of the tinkling noise became clear - she had a chain between her wrists. I made bold to lift the coat that lay in her lap and sure enough, she was handcuffed with a long chain that passed around a post which supported the porch roof.

"Hmm," I said, "and very embarrassing too. Who left you like this?"

Again no answer. And now I was struck by the strangeness in her manner of sitting. "You'll have to excuse this," I said, pushed my hand under the edge of her long skirt and pulled it out again along the side of her foot. Yes! Her feet too were manacled around that post.

I bent a little lower to look up into her face. It was flaming red. "I'm beginning to think you did this to yourself?"

The only response was a distinct impression that she was shrinking. "What went wrong? Where are the keys to these things?"

"I've only got one... and I dropped it." The words were uttered in the barest of whispers.

"Yes. That would definitely come under the heading of embarrassing. But fear not... help is here ... listen to the bugles a-calling. Enter the cavalry stage-right!"

Humour was not to be appreciated and so I tried something more gentle. "Where exactly did you drop it?"

"Right where I am, of course. I didn't feel much like moving."

"Ahh. Now that's better. And where do you think it is now?"

"Quite close. In fact, under the bloody floorboards."

"Yes. I see that's not only embarrassing in the situation but it's also somewhat frustrating as a problem. Will you show me where?"

"It went down that crack there as clean as a whistle... although I'm not sure just how clean a whistle may be."

"You improve by the minute. But your rescue will involve either sawing out that post, in which event you will probably have the roof added to those manacles, or we'll have to lift a floorboard or two. Do you have any tools here?"

"No, 'fraid not. I'm useless in the engineering line."

"Then what were you... ? Say, just how long have you been sitting there?"

"Since two."

"It's now about five-thirty. You don't do things by halves, do you? What were you planning to do?"

"Well, my nearest neighbour lives five hundred yards that way but, at the moment, his body is on holiday in Majorca. That way, the nearest is in Welhome. I thought that, if I waited 'til you came by, you might take a message for me."

"You know... you definitely improve on acquaintance. Were you very frightened?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. If I'm to separate you from your favourite post, I'll have to go home for tools. It took me half-an-hour to find you three times so I should make it back here in about twenty minutes... maybe a bit more. Will you be OK?"

"As long as nobody kidnaps me while you're gone."

"Attagirl. Do you want a drink or anything before I desert?"

"Yes please. Yes... very please. Go straight through to the kitchen. Water will do for now."

As I held the glass for her, I got my first real look at her face. Now that the fright was beginning to dissipate, she had real appeal for me which, if anything, was enhanced by the dried signs of tears.

"You realise, of course, that it's obligatory? I cannot leave without saying 'Don't go away' "

"Perhaps it's as well that I'm helpless with this house chained to me." She tried to look menacing but I really thought she was going to burst into tears.

I made it back within twenty minutes and I was not at all surprised to see her still sitting there. This time however, on my approach, she positively brightened up. "What kept you?"

"Hang on. I'll go back and see if I can improve on the time..." and I turned back toward the gate.

"Oh, no. Please don't. Only kidding. Besides... I'm starting to cramp and its hurting."

I pushed my right cheek forward, planted a forefinger just off the corner of my lips and demanded, "Penance !"

She raised her hands only to have the chain snap taut around the post. "Next time, I think I'll use elastic. You'll have to chance coming closer."

I moved in and she paid my bill but abruptly dropped her head. With my most delicate one-finger action I lifted her chin to see a glorious raging blush. Believe me, when this young lady blushes, it can be seen easily at a hundred yards - in the dark.

The crack which gave passage to the handcuff key easily admitted my electric jigsaw blade and in next to no time at all I was lifting out a section of floorboard. The torch revealed the key but it seemed an awful long way down. In fact to get it I had to lie full-length on the porch floor, insert the whole of my arm and it seemed half my shoulder and so ended with my head practically in her lap.

I waved the key victoriously: "The cavalry does it again. All we need now is a yellow ribbon!" And I had the extreme pleasure of watching that blush flood up over her face yet again.

I unlocked one wrist and one ankle, lifted her and carried her into the house, into a very pleasant little lounge and deposited her in an easy chair. There, pushing my luck, I recuffed her and ostentatiously dropped the key into my own pocket.

"If I was a long time," I said, "it was because I raided the freezer. I've brought goodies and propose to cook and so stuff you with hot food?"

Again that silence. "Lacking permission to use your kitchen, I shall have to pack you into the car and carry you off to mine ... "

"While you hold me in chains, should you not be making the decisions?"

"Holding you in chains... hmmm... well, if you will believe that I'd not do anything either to you or with you without your consent then I'll cook dinner here and decide the rest after?"

Again she made no response and so I departed to the kitchen. When I looked up from checking the potatoes, I found her watching me from the doorway. "I don't know who you are or where you live. I'm not completely helpless but these cuffs don't exactly allow me freedom... and in my own house too.... I ought to be very afraid... "

"For one day you've surely had enough of frights? But that's a great compliment. Thank you."

She came on into the kitchen dragging her hobble chain along the floor. I became aware of a pair of wide-spaced extraordinarily violet eyes fixed on mine. I stand just over six feet and she is just under five-four (or thereabouts) so that I seemed to be looking straight down at her. "You have been so kind and... and... understanding... I really want to thank you ... "

"Oh, that's easy," I said brashly. I took her wrist chain, passed it over my head to leave her dangling from my neck. "This cheek has grown jealous; afraid you'll have to give this one it's turn," and I leaned down toward her. But she gently turned my face and kissed me full on the lips.

Without even thinking about it, I scooped her up and held her much too tightly to me; she was wondrously soft. "You're living very dangerously," I scolded softly. "Don't ever do that again without ringing a bell first. You're liable to end up with a burned dinner."

To talk of burning... She was blushing again.

After dinner I laid the key of her shackles on the table and offerred a choice. "You can collect the key or be elected Slave of the Week."

I ended up taking her home with me.

As is appropriate, of course, for a slave, I made up a bed for her on the floor at the foot of my bed. The bedside clock registered 1.10 a.m. when I was awakened by a small hand gently shaking my shoulder. "I'm s's'sorry." she managed through chatterring teeth, "But I'm t't'too c'cold to sleep d'down there. Do you have... any more... b'blankets?"

I turned back the duvet, switched up the electric blanket and held out a helping hand. She slipped daintily - if a little jingly - in beside me and snuggled in under my arm as I tucked the duvet back around her. In the darkness she squirmed as she wriggled closer into me and I grinned as I thought of the closing lines of that second stanza:

"So I hauled her into bed and I covered up her head... Just to keep her... from the... foggy... foggy... dew."