The Secret Door | basement, rope, school, gagged | free bondage stories

Caroline didn't normally traipse around in the house in her underwear. But while lugging a basket of laundry through the messy basement, she brushed against a shelf, and a science-fair project spilled all over her.

Her children were at school, so she was free to swear. "Shit!" she screamed. Orange and green goop oozed down her blouse and puddled on the floor. She slipped and nearly fell. "Shit fucking crappo damnation!"

The basket was filled with a colored load, warm wash/cold rinse, so on impulse she stripped off her jeans and blouse and threw them in too. Clad only in panties (the last time she wore a bra was her high school reunion), she irritably mopped up the floor. It's always something, she thought. Just when you've got your chores and errands under control and dare to imagine 10 minutes for yourself... She couldn't even remember whose science-fair project it was, or the point thereof. Brian's volcano? Tony's chemistry thing? They all blurred together. It was her own damn fault for buying a house in a good school district. If her kids got any more enriched they'd attract ants.

The only positive angle to the situation was a chance to be undressed in a public part of the house. She had to be careful what she showed when her teenage sons were around. Safe from leering eyes, she wagged her bottom and arched her nude chest like the sluts in music videos. "You go, girl!" she said, raising her arms in triumph. The cool basement air felt good on her bare skin.

Then back to reality. When the orange stuff hit the floor it had splattered all over the lower levels of the utility shelving under the stairs. They were hideous shelves, industrial gray, left by the previous owner. Caroline wanted them out, but they would have to be dismantled to haul it up the stairs, and Bill had never gotten around to it. Now the shelves were laden with the good silverware she seldom used, cans of leftover paint and varnish, the kids' winter boots, 497-piece puzzles, etc., so they probably never would be discarded, and would be passed intact to the next owner, and on. For all she knew they'd already been passed along for a hundred years. The shelves looked that old.

Kneeling to clean up the floor, Caroline noticed an odd box on the underside of the second shelf. An old-fashioned toggle switch: two little cylinders projecting from a rectangular plate. Push in, pop out. She craned her neck and peered into the shadows. A switch. Odd. What could it possibly control?

Intrigued by the anomaly, Caroline pushed the extended button in. The switch must not have operated for a long time, because it required considerable pressure, and a pinch of dust sifted from the mechanism onto her finger. The dust sparkled in the gloom.

Nothing happened for a second.

Slowly, the shelving swung out, revealing the bare cinderblock wall. An eerie shimmer rippled over the wall, and a door coalesced there, like an image slowly appearing on Polaroid film. It was an old wooden door, flush with the wall, rimmed by rough stone blocks. As the image grew sharper, she saw the door was rounded at the top and studded with black iron bolts. It looked like the entrance to a dungeon. As she gaped, the door creaked open, and a man stepped into her basement. He glanced around irritably, then looked down and saw her on her knees.

"What is the meaning of this?" he growled. "Who dares disturb my studies?"

He wasn't tall. Muscular arms and legs. Wearing a black leather vest over a shirt with purple satin sleeves. His leggings were red and blue, and his boots fine black leather. His outfit reminded her of a character from a Community Players production of Two Gentlemen of Verona. Caroline scrambled to her feet, suddenly conscious that she was underdressed. "Hey," she said, casually covering her bare chest with her right arm. "This is... What are..."

"Silence, wench. Where is your master?"

His language was straight out of the wizard and dragon movie the boys watched last week. It seemed incredible, but apparently this guy had blundered in from another dimension. A patriarchal and medieval dimension to boot. She'd better get rid of him fast.

"Now see here," she said, trying to regain the upper hand despite the social disadvantage of confronting an aristocrat while wearing only bikini panties. "I know it's confusing, but—"

The man stepped past her and surveyed the basement. "Reveal yourself, wizard!" he roared. "Ferris of Sylortane would have words with you!" The water heater gurgled, and he whirled and crouched, as if to counter an attack. He didn't seem afraid. In fact, he seemed eager to do battle.

"Look, there's no one here," Caroline said. "There's been some kind of mistake."

"So it seems," Ferris grumbled, straightening up and looking her over. "Methinks the master is away, and the slavegirl is toying with mysteries she shouldn't touch. Such as the controls for magic portals." He grinned. "Well, since you've summoned me, I might as well do some spying, see what I can learn about this place. How long till your master returns?"

Caroline was suddenly conscious that she was alone in the house. Bill, typically, was on a long business trip. It was a school day, so the boys wouldn't be home until 3:30. Oh hell. Brian had Scouts, and Tony had soccer. Make that 5:30 before anyone came looking for her. "My master will return momentarily," she huffed.

"You're lying." The intruder glanced around the basement and spotted a coil of clothesline. He tore it open and cut off several lengths with a dagger he took from his belt. "Stand against that pole, wench."

She thought about making a dash for freedom. Unfortunately he was between her and the basement steps, so reluctantly Caroline backed against one of the round metal poles that held up the house. He made her hold her arms together in front while he looped rope around her wrists and cinched it tight. He tied her wrists to the pole so that her arms were raised over her head. He ran rope around her waist and pulled it tight, forcing her back and bottom against the cold metal. Finally, he bound her ankles together and tied them to the pole. She felt like a Christmas tree being bundled for transit atop an SUV.

"That should suffice," he said, straightening up and brushing off his hands. "Slaves shouldn't be left free to wander around a castle. They get into trouble."

Caroline bowed her head submissively. The one bright spot in this bizarre encounter: despite her near nudity, Ferris seemed to consider her as livestock, not a desirable human female. Maybe he would just rope her up so she couldn't stray and forget about her.

That thought was dashed as the man took a nipple in each hand. He squeezed and rolled them between his fingers. "Who's your master, wench? Tell me the truth." Caroline had very sensitive nipples; it was hard to think with her chest electrified. How did that medieval lingo go? "William," she gasped. "William of Fairlawn."

"I know him not. Is he a powerful wizard?" Squeeze, squeeze.

"Yes. Extremely. He will kill you when he returns."

"Hmmp." The invader seemed skeptical, but he finally let go of her tits. Caroline sagged in her bonds, chest tingling, as Ferris strode about the basement, glaring at the clutter suspiciously. Caroline hadn't had sex for a week; having her breasts played with aroused her.

Ferris found the basket of clean laundry. A white load. He selected a pillowcase and with a few heaves of his powerful shoulders ripped it apart. He whirled on her, and almost before she knew what was happening he'd yanked down her jaw and stuffed most of the fabric into her mouth. Ignoring her plaintive bleats and protesting eyes, he pulled the remaining strips through her lips and tied them around her head. When she was thoroughly and utterly silenced, he stomped upstairs, leaving Caroline to smell the faint scent of bleach from the pillowcase.

Caroline had always thought of herself as a take-charge kind of woman. When something unexpected happened at church or school, she was never at a loss for the correct action. So she looked upward and studied the rope on her wrists. The binding was tight, and he had cleverly arranged the knots so her fingers couldn't reach them. She tiptoed and managed to raise herself an inch or two, but not enough to make any difference. Caroline moaned in frustration and slumped back down. The concrete floor was cold on her bare feet.

Waiting, she eyed the strange door. Had it always been there? Who had installed the controls?

She listened to Ferris stomping around upstairs. They'd just had the oak floors redone; she hoped his boots had soft soles. Apparently he was opening drawers and closets. Finally he clomped downstairs and eyed her sourly.

"I've seen finer hovels in Muckland. Your master is probably a poor scholar. The fifth son of a Marchland earl, I reckon."

Caroline glared. It wasn't a hovel. It was a 4BR 3B colonial in good condition in a district with excellent schools. They'd paid a bundle when they moved to green and peaceful Fairlawn.

"This is an Elfish land, from the looks of yon bowers. Methinks you have Elfish blood yourself, wench."

Caroline had not the slightest idea what that meant. Unless her long blonde hair was reminding him of something? Did elves have blonde hair and small breasts?

Grinning, the stranger played with her breasts again. She tried to squirm away; tied to the pole she was unable to evade his clamping fingers. The rough handling was incredibly stimulating. How long had it been since a man pawed her that way? High school? And this guy was not a clumsy jock emboldened by too many beers. There was method in his treatment. After the initial shock, the mauling was turning her on. Caroline was thankful she was gagged; otherwise, her aroused moaning would have been embarrassing.

"Methinks the little elf likes this. Eh?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Oh? I know one way to find out."

Out came the dagger again. Caroline froze. Grinning evilly, he ran the flat side of the cool metal blade along her hip. She flinched, but he only wanted to cut through her panties. He repeated the move on the other side. The fabric fell away, and she was nude.

He shoved his hand between her legs and felt her up. She was so wet his fingers went in easily. Despite her intention to act indifferent, she couldn't help bending her knees in order to sink lower and force his fingers farther in. Looked at objectively, this was a terrible violation. Looked at subjectively, however, she was so close to coming...

He extracted his hand and wiped it on her stomach. "You elf girls are all alike," he commented. He seemed happy to have placed her.

The pole she was tied to was cold on her bare bottom. The hard roundness lodged between her buttocks made her think of another part of her body that needed to be opened and penetrated. Maybe that was the smart thing to do: get him to fuck her. He'd be satisfied and leave, and she could go back to doing laundry. Yes. In fact, if she handled things correctly, Bill would never know anything out of the ordinary had occurred.

Catching his eye, she whimpered in a pleading way and let her head loll. Peering at him through her bangs, she fluttered her eyelashes couquettishly.

The man looked her up and down. Caroline kept her head submissively lowered. Thinking: I'm throwing myself at him. If this son-of-a-bitch doesn't accept my offer... She widened her knees enticingly.

"Do you think I'm a stable boy? To mount you standing up?"

Grumbling, he strode around the basement, kicking toys out of the way. She heard him roar with delight. A familiar sound followed, and she realized he was opening the old roll-away bed they kept for when Bill's sister brought her kids to stay overnight. The saggy old mattress was murder to sleep on (for an adult, anyway; the kids didn't mind). But it was better than the concrete floor.

The stranger untied all the ropes except the ones on her wrists. Caroline stepped away from the pole gratefully. Leaving her gagged, he led her into the next room, tugging the rope like a leash. She trotted along obediently, weirdly excited by the whole scene. If he hadn't shown up, she would be sorting socks now. Instead, she was about to get used like a sex slave. Despite her modern notions, just thinking about it made her horny.

He threw her facedown on the bed and tied her wrists to the metal frame at one end of the rollaway bed. Then he yanked her legs apart and tied an ankle to each of the opposite corners. It was humiliating to be laid out like a rug, but with her tongue restrained she had no way to complain. The musty mattress smell tickled her nose.

He shoved a pillow under her pelvis, raising her bottom. It suddenly occurred to Caroline that he might intend to fuck her in the ass. She strained against her bonds. It was astonishing how quickly and easily her world had changed. Three pieces of rope, and she was a prisoner in her own basement.

A few strips of cloth, and she was mute. A neighbor could come to the door and never suspect she was being butt-fucked not 20 feet away. In her basement, now a dungeon. Caroline moaned in fear.

The bed sagged when he climbed on. To her relief, he guided his hard cock right where it belonged. She came on the third thrust. Her old friend Mr. Orgasm melted her woes away, and she happily enjoyed the pounding as he rode and rode. The metal bedframe creaked and shook under his assault. When he came he stiffened and growled bearishly and collapsed on her, digging his nails into her back.

He lay there for a moment, then climbed off. "Elves," he sighed, as he pulled on his pants. "Tell Master William you're a fine piece of arse," he chuckled, slapping her on the bottom and making her yelp.

Caroline realized he was about to walk out. While she wanted him through that weird door and gone, she wasn't sure she could free herself. Her plan for concealing this episode did not include her sons coming home and finding her tied naked to a bed. "MMMMM!" she mumbled urgently. "MMM! MMMM!" She thrashed around and rolled from side to side desperately.

"What is it?" he grumbled, and sat down at the head of the bed. He untied the strips of cloth and pulled the soggy wadding from her mouth.

Caroline licked her lips. "Thank you, Master Ferris. It was very kind of you to fuck this poor elf."

"Well, you seemed to need it." He slapped her bottom and stood. She was still tied.

"I'd like to show you my appreciation," she said.

"Oh? How?"

"If you'd just untie me..."

Instantly he was on guard. "What manner of elf treachery be this, eh?"

"No! Nothing! I was just thinking, if you want to put your penis in my mouth—"

"Why? So you can bite it off?"

"No sir. I just want to pleasure you. I would lick and suck you. It would be easier if you untied me."

He eyed her shrewdly. "I've heard of that pleasure. It's a specialty of the elves of Argenheim. So you know it, do you?"

"My master says I'm very good." She fluttered her eyelashes modestly.

"All right then. No tricks, now."

As he untied her ankles, Caroline buried her face in the mattress to hide her smile of triumph.

He freed her legs, and she expected him to go on to release her wrists. Instead, he used the rope to tie her ankles together, and then her knees. When he freed her wrists, it was only for a moment; he quickly retied her arms behind her back. Then he bent her bound legs up and tied them to her arms. A hog-tie, she realized with dismay. With no slack whatsoever. She was as helpless as before, only in a different position. Damn.

When he had her in a tight immobile bundle, he picked her up and placed her on the edge of the mattress. She was a short slender woman, weighing only 120 pounds; he handled her with ease. He arranged her so her head was hanging over the edge of the mattress, and he knelt and brought his cock to her lips. Hard again already. Reluctantly, Caroline licked her vaginal juices off the head, then sucked the warm wiener into her mouth. She was careful to keep her lips pulled over her teeth. Biting this arrogant man, even by accident, would be a big mistake, she sensed.

"Ah, that's tight," he sighed. He dug his fingers into her hair, seized a handful, and used that grip to guide her ministrations. Fortunately he didn't try to ram himself down her throat. He seemed content to have her focus on the head. Caroline expertly rolled it between her cheeks and tongue and palette. Despite the risk inherent in her predicament, she couldn't help giving him a good time. As cocksuckers went, she was a pro.

He held her by her hair and rocked her head back and forth as if using her mouth to polish his penis. It was demeaning to be reduced to an orifice for him to fill. Gagged with his penis, in effect. Yet Caroline felt a familiar tingle in her cunt. I would make a good wench, she thought. I have a knack for submission.

Time passed. She drifted into a slave fantasy. Caroline the Stable Cunt, servicing her master...

Suddenly he came again, spurting into her cheek. Caroline dutifully swallowed his semen, gave him a polite caress with her tongue, and pulled her head back. His penis emerged from her face and poked her nose. He looked down, forlorn.

"You're a witch, girl. That was magic."

"Thank you, sir."

He settled back, still on his knees. Kneel to me, Caroline thought. I've stolen your strength.

Still, the problem of getting him to untie her remained. Once again he'd tied her so the knots were out of reach of her fingers. Maybe if he left she could roll off the bed and roll around the basement until she found scissors or something else sharp, but if she failed...

As she pondered her predicament, he rose to his feet and pulled up his tights.

"Where's your master, girl? You said he'd return momentarily."

Caroline shrugged. As well as she could, with her arms tied behind her back, fastened in an immobile tangle with her legs. "I suppose he's late."

"Late." He snorted derisively. "I suppose so. Too bad he's not here to keep an eye on his property."

"William of Fairlawn works very hard," she said.

"William of fucking Fairarse doesn't deserve a slave like you."

Uneasily, Caroline watched him pick up the strips of cloth with which he'd gagged her earlier. He sat down on the corner of the bed, yanked her head back, and stuffed the wet cloth back into her mouth. "UUUMMM!" she protested, trying to turn her face away. His grip was too strong. He packed her mouth as methodically as she would stuff a Thanksgiving turkey, then bound the wadding in place with the last strip of cloth. He tied it behind her head and watched her shake her head ineffectually. "NNNN! NNN!"

"Calm yourself, wench. Don't damage that magic mouth. I'm going to use it a lot."

"MMMM! MMMM!" She rolled from side to side on the mattress, mewling inarticulately.

"Come along now," he said, scooping her up. Carrying her in his strong arms, he walked back into the main part of the basement, where the whole bizarre episode had begun. The washing machine was in its final spin, Caroline realized. The drier had finished.

He carried her nude body, inescapably bound and gagged, toward the secret door. "You'll like it in my land," he said. "That talented mouth of yours will have plenty of cocks to work on. For starters, I'm hosting a banquet tonight. Lord Remiliad has been bragging about his sluts. Wait till he sees what you can do."

Caroline moaned. She wiggled her toes franticly. The door was coming closer.

The damnedest thing was, the prospect of being his slave was turning her on.