Chapter 42: Fit to be Tied

Melissa walked in the front door, tired and dejected. She deliberately let the screen door bang shut behind her, echoing her mood.

Erik looked up from his computer in the study. “Rough morning?”

“Not the best morning of my life.”

“Seems like encouraging you to have a heart-to-heart with Mistress Amy was definitely not one of my best ideas.”

Melissa walked over to his study and flopped in the overstuffed armchair near his desk. “Well, it had to come to a head at some point.”

“I know. Serena filled me in, at least a little bit. I’m sorry. I feel pretty damn stupid – not realizing how she felt about me. I can’t believe I asked her to work with you. That was really shitty of me.”

“You didn’t know. She hid it from you.”

“So much for my being perceptive about people’s feelings.”

“It, ah… you know how you and Serena had to work so hard to get me to see how attractive I could be, but I was really blind to it?”

“Ah, yeah…”

“I think you’re blind too – about how much women fall for you.”

“Uhh… I kind of get that a lot of women think I’m attractive, I guess.”

“No, not just, ‘gosh he’s cute.’ I mean seriously fall head over fucking heels in love with you – want to have your babies kind of love.”


Melissa started counting off on her fingers, “So, there’s Mistress Amy, and Deborah…”

“But Deborah and I both agreed that wouldn’t have worked.”

“Yeah? Well, that didn’t stop her from crying her eyes out over you the first night I met her.”


“And I’m reasonably sure that Serena would settle down with you in an instant if you asked.”

“Ah… but… oh, shit.”

“Yep. Then there’s me – although even the thought of the ‘happily ever after thing’ scares the hell out of me. Me… settle down? Have kids? Be a soccer mom with a ball gag in my purse? Didn’t you say something like that once? Anyway, I just can’t wrap my head around any of that – I can’t begin to figure out how I could be your sex slave, and go to school, or have a career.”

“People do work it out.”

“Yeah, as if you’d give up on running off to rescue some other company, living away from home for months and months at a time? Can you truly imagine yourself staying home and running after kids instead?”

“Ah… I never really considered…”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Maybe I see your point. But, you know, we’re pissing off a lot of friends by being so pig-headed about saying it’s just for the summer.”

Melissa laughed, “Since when did you care about what other people think?”

“Ouch! I’m not totally anti-social. Besides, when my friends tell me I’m screwing up, I listen to them. Sure, when all is said and done, I might not agree with them, but I do listen to them.”

“Okay, okay. I guess what you said yesterday makes sense. The summer is still young; let’s not worry about anything that goes past the end of the summer for now.”

“Yep, works for me. So, this morning was truly a bummer.”

“Verily so. Ah, does that mean we qualify for pity sex?”

“You aren’t hungry?”

“Hungry? Your fucking sword mistress, Polly, just finished beating the shit out of me for a solid hour. She was in this whole, ‘got to get ready for the tournament this weekend’ mindset. When I exercise that hard, I can’t eat right away.”

“Okay. By the way, I never asked, how do you like the armor that Master Drexler made you?”

“All I can say is that you’re going to fucking owe me big time for agreeing to do this sword fighting crap.”

“Now, is that anyway for a sub to talk to her dom?”

“Master, Sir, you’re going to fucking owe me big time.”

“That’s better.” He laughed. “And you’re right. I know it’s a big ‘ask.’ All the dom/sub stuff aside, I’m truly grateful that you’re willing to try it. I appreciate that you’re only doing it because you know how much the whole ‘dangerous woman’ trope is a big turn-on for me. I just hope that the tournament works out well, and you have at least a little bit of fun.”

She laughed in return, even though she was shaking her head dubiously, “Me too. I’ll deny ever saying it, but there might actually be something to Polly’s idea about LARP making up for girls not playing football.”

Erik’s quizzical expression made it clear he didn’t understand.

Melissa explained, “Us girls, we don’t play contact sports. Unlike boys, we don’t try to physically dominate each other or beat each other senseless. Of course, I think that’s generally a good thing. But, you know, holding a sword in my hand, driving it past Polly’s guard, and really nailing her…” She paused, her tone growing serious and darker, “…knowing that back in the Roman Coliseum, woman gladiators fought to the death. Back then, I’d be trying to kill her… and she’d be trying to kill me… it somehow makes that whole experience such an insanely intense thing. All my senses, all my focus, everything concentrates together in this rush of being alive. It’s like every single nerve in my body is tingling and firing. I guess I see why people get addicted to it. Other people – that’s definitely not how I would ever want to live, but I do understand it better.”

Erik smiled, nodding. “Me too. You should talk to Mike about it. You know that’s how he lived for twenty plus years – the whole warrior thing.”

“Yeah, well that’s fucking crazy. I mean, I love Mike. Really, he’s a great guy, and I’m hugely glad there’s guys like him on our side. But wanting to put yourself in those ‘kill or be killed’ situations? I mean, you’ve got to be a little crazy.”


“So, anyway, Master. Sir. I know we got a little far afield, but we were talking about pity sex. I mean, since I’m working so hard to satisfy your Lara Croft fantasy… as your dedicated sex slave and all, can I humbly beseech this opportunity to serve you.”

“Hmm, since you put it that way, I suppose I might find a few minutes in my busy schedule.” With a broad smile, he flipped his computer closed, then slid it, along with a couple of papers, into a drawer, leaving the top of the table that he used for a desk completely clear. Melissa was always astonished at his neatness, as well as his minimalism. Her desk was always piled high with current work and the debris of old assignments.

In a low, commanding voice that sent shivers up her spine, he said, “Remove your clothes. Climb up here.” He pointed at the table.

Without hesitation, she stripped off her exercise clothes and hopped up to sit on the edge of the table. While she was stripping, Erik walked over the bookcase against the back wall of his study. He returned with several coils of rope. She recognized the soft, thick nylon rope he liked to use. She was always excited by how the braided black surface of the rope looked against her skin. After her first time with hemp rope last week, she was also very grateful for the smoothness of nylon.

She asked, tongue in cheek, “You keep coils of rope in every room of this house?”

He looked narrowly at her, dismissing her humorous tone. He replied flatly, “Of course.” Setting the rope down on the corner of the table, he stepped in front of her, reaching out to hold her torso, with his hands just under her ribs on each side. Seemingly effortlessly, he lifted her up in the air. “Kneel on the table,” he commanded.

She brought her legs underneath her. Erik set her back down, so she was kneeling on the polished wood surface. She was a little taken aback by the reminder of how strong he was. While he didn’t have a bodybuilder’s exaggerated physique, he was in great shape.

He placed her arms behind her back, tying her wrists together. Next he looped rope under her left ankle and over her left upper thigh, one loop after another, binding her lower leg firmly against her upper leg. He repeated the process with a separate coil of rope on her right side. Reaching around behind her, he tied her wrists to her ankles.

When he was done, he stepped back to appraise his work with a critical eye. His quiet seriousness made Melissa nervous, especially since she was now tightly bound in a kneeling position with her arms behind her.

Stepping to her side, Erik lifted her up, then set her carefully back down on the table, but this time, lying on her back. Her arms were now trapped underneath her, with her lower arms lifting her buttocks up off the table. She realized that he had also set her down so her buttocks were positioned right at the edge of the table.

With a satisfied grin, he took another coil of rope and looped it around one of her knees and then around the table leg on that side. He slowly drew the loop tighter, pulling her knee open to that side. Doing the same thing on her other side, she was left pinned to the top of the table, with her legs spread wide open, feeling very immobilized and helpless.

Walking around behind her with yet another coil of rope, he made several loose loops around her neck, tying the loops together carefully, so they embraced her like a soft collar, but would not tighten if the rope was pulled. Then he took the ends of the rope around her neck and tied each end to a table leg on either side of the head. Now she felt completely immobilized, doubting that she could move more than a hand’s breadth in any direction.

Erik calmly walked back to sit in his desk chair facing her. He casually reached out, stroking the inside of her thigh. She trembled, certain she was already very wet. His fingers traced light arcs across the insides of her thighs, occasionally bumping across the loops of rope holding her ankles tight against her thighs, then grazing, just ever so lightly, past her sex. She moaned, desperate to have him inside.

Instead, he bent forward and used his tongue to sweep lazy circles around her smooth labia. Her breathing accelerated. She tried to mentally will him to slip a finger inside her – something, anything.

But rather than offering her relief, he only increased her tension by flicking his tongue lightly across her labia at the point where her clitoris was hidden underneath. His deliberate teasing and tormenting made it clear that he was going to hold her right at the edge of an orgasm, without allowing her any release. She tried steeling herself, knowing that he would tease her into an intense desperation for an orgasm, which would eventually overwhelm her conscious thought and blot out all other perceptions. Just then, he slid his tongue along the inside of where her labia parted, over so softly grazing past her clitoris. Despite knowing it was coming, she was instantly thrown into an intense urgency of need, helpless to do anything else but crave release for however long he wanted to play with her.

She quickly lost track of time or even of an awareness of what exactly he was doing to her. She knew the voice she occasionally heard begging to be allowed to come was hers, but it almost seemed to belong to someone else. Some part of her wondered why she would even bother to beg when she knew it would have no effect on him.

Wrapped in this vague fog, she was aware that he had released her knees and untied her rope collar. He lifted her up in the air again. Looking down, with her wrists still bound to her ankles, she realized that he now lay naked below her on the table and that he was lowering her to straddle his penis. As he carefully positioned her so he would slide inside, he warned her, “Not yet.”

She whimpered as his engorged penis spread her wet folds apart, sliding deeper and deeper, until he was seated all the way inside her. He raised her upper body to vertical, so she was now kneeling over him. Behind her, she could feel her fingertips resting on the firm package of his scrotum. She caressed him, hoping to spur him into letting her orgasm.

Instead, he lifted her slightly up and down, encouraging her into using her limited range of motion to rhythmically slide him in and out, which was pure torture as she constantly fought off tipping over into orgasm.

Just as she had begun to master her need, he reached up with his hands and alternately spanked her breasts, each slap landing right across her nipples. She gasped hanging desperately onto to the precipice of an orgasm.

What finally sent her tumbling over that precipice was feeling how his enjoyment of her submission made his penis rock hard. Knowing she was such a powerful object of arousal for him had made her own pleasure too great to contain. A powerful orgasm exploded out of her, thrumming through her body as she strained against her bonds. Writhing helplessly, she was pinned in place by his penis and further restrained from escape by his powerful hands and her bonds.

When she finally arrived at a shuddering conclusion, she slumped over, gasping for air. Her throat was sore, even though she didn’t remember screaming. After a while, her breathing steadied out and she started to feel the accumulated aches in her shoulders, arms, and knees. In her dazed state, she was bemused – when she had asked for ‘pity sex,’ she had hoped for a quick fling but had never expected such a powerful orgasm.

Once Erik saw that she had regained awareness of her surroundings, he slid out of her. She felt the sudden absence of his penis, along with a gush of fluid. Looking down, she realized that he must have cum inside her, even she had no recollection of when it happened.

He lifted her off him, setting her back down into a kneeling position beside him on the table. She tried to help position herself as he lifted her, but with her ankles still bound to her thighs and her wrists, she couldn’t do much.

He asked, “How are you doing?”

“Wow,” she croaked. After swallowing a couple of times, she added in a more natural voice, “Okay, so now I’m hungry for lunch.”

“Ah, but you’ve been a bad girl…”


“I didn’t give you permission to come, did I?”

She started to protest, then slumped down into a formal slave kneeling pose, raising her head back up to face straight, but keeping her eyes downcast in humility. “I am profoundly sorry that I failed so miserably, Master.”

Erik slid off the table. He snatched up his shirt from the floor, using it to mop up the mess on his abdomen where her fluids had coated him. Pausing to look at her thoughtfully, he said, “After such a grievous error, you’ll have to do something special to earn your lunch.”

Gathering her up in his arms, he lifted her from the table, nudged his chair out of the way, then set her down on the rug. He carefully tilted her forward until she lay face down on the rug, with her wrists and ankles sticking up in the air, still firmly tied together behind her back.

Gathering up his pants, he walked away, breezily promising her, “I’ll be back in a little while.”

Dismayed, Melissa lay with her head on the rug and tried to relax. “Well,” she said to the empty room, “at least he had the rug cleaned since I pissed on it.”

More than five minutes later, she heard him coming back. Lifting her head, she saw he was dressed in the same jeans, but wearing a new shirt. He was carrying a large open rectangle, which looked as though it was made out of copper plumbing pipe. Walking up to her, he set the rectangle down around her. She saw that the framework really was made out of ordinary copper plumbing pipe. A rectangle of shiny copper surrounded her, with only a small border of free space between her and the copper. Behind her, she heard Erik moving around.

After a minute he passed her, walking back toward the kitchen. “You can join me for lunch anytime you want,” he called out. “Just be careful about touching the copper. It shares something in common with your favorite purple toy.”

“What! You mean, it’s going to shock me? I already have more than enough being zapped this morning with Polly and her damned cattle prod LARP swords. Please, Master! This is really cruel!”

Erik turned and walked back. Melissa relaxed, hoping that he had just been teasing her, and he would let her go now. He knelt down in front of her and reached into his back pocket. When his hand came back in view, he was holding a ball gag. “Can’t have you making all that noise and ruining my lunch.”

Before Melissa could protest, he slipped the ball gag in her mouth, then fastened it behind her head. She made a loud protesting noise against the gag, bucking back and forth against her bonds. From above her, she heard him laugh cruelly.

Then he leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Don’t worry. The ball gag is loose enough to spit out. You can use your safe word anytime you want. I also turned the shock intensity down as low as it goes, plus it will automatically turn off after five seconds of constant contact. Trust me, I think you’ll really enjoy getting yourself out of this predicament bondage, but if you’re too tired or frustrated, don’t hesitate to use your safe word.” He stood back up and told her, “Nod if you’re okay.”

Blowing out a sigh of exasperation through her nose, Melissa reluctantly nodded, and then watched with simmering resentment as Erik walked away again.

Looking at the copper surrounding her, it had a warm, shiny color, but she was certain that touching it would be unpleasant. She carefully shuffled her body sideways. Getting close to the pipe on her left, she gingerly let her shoulder bump into it, then immediately jerked back as a jolt of static electricity hit her. “Goddamn fucking electrical shit,” she growled at her gag, which only came out as “Ahahah ahaha ahaha ahah.”

She was tempted to spit out the gag and call out ‘red light’ to end this torment, but the challenge of getting past the barrier was tempting. She decided to at least try it once, figuring there must be a way to outsmart the barrier.

Pushing and shoving, she worked her midsection up, until she was supported on her knees on one end and her shoulders and chin at the other. Unfortunately, her breasts still occasionally brushed against the rug, which was not promising. Working back over to the boundary, she tried rocking to the inside, which lifted her outer shoulder above the height of the pipe.

Holding that angle, she wriggled carefully sideways, until her shoulder had passed over the pipe. She paused for a moment to gather her courage, then rocked her body outwards. The pipe made fiery contact all along the inside of her shoulder. She screamed against the gag, but successfully resisted the urge to flinch away as she twisted her body around to get her head outside the boundary. Swinging her head down against the rug, she bonked herself harder than she had hoped, but she was able to lever herself away from the copper by using her neck muscles.

She stopped for a moment, breathing hard through her nose. As she hung there, she felt more fluid from their lovemaking seep down the inside of her thighs. She snorted in frustration, wanting Erik to be wrong – insisting to herself that her increased lubricity had nothing to do with being aroused by her current predicament.

At that moment, she heard his footsteps come back. Since she was using her head to keep herself from touching the copper, she couldn’t look up at him. From above, she heard him say around a bite of food in his mouth, “I came back to enjoy your struggles.”

She replied through her gag, “Fuhk eww ahssolh.”

“Sorry, couldn’t make that out, but I’m sure it was endearing.”

Giving up on conversation, Melissa pushed herself forward in a series of wriggles. The soft side of her breast unexpectedly swung into contact with the copper, and she flung herself back.

“Oh drat,” observed Erik.

Melissa, breathing hard, decided not to reward him with a gagged reply. Instead, she gathered her knees under her as best she could, then arched up, flinging her upper body across the boundary, while also rotating to the left so she would land on her side, rather than her face.

The move worked, except she fell completely onto her left side, her hip and flank landing directly on the thin copper pipe. Screaming against the gag, she writhed sideways, eventually rolling herself onto her back and away from the dreaded pipe.

Having escaped the rectangle, she lay back, breathing heavily. Standing over her, Erik politely clapped, “Bravo. Well done.” Then he took another bite of his sandwich.

Pulling her knees in again, she leveraged herself forward, in his direction. After several more convolutions, she arrived at his feet, looking up at him. He stared back down at her and said pleasantly, “Good job. So, when you finish untying yourself, come join me in the kitchen. I’ll try to leave something for you.”

Then he turned and walked away, as she screamed her exasperation into the gag. After angrily lying there for a minute, she reasoned that he wasn’t arbitrarily cruel, so there must be some way to escape her ropes. Feeling around with her hands behind her, she discovered a knot she could reach with three fingers. Slowly, she was able to work the rope loose in the knot. After some wiggling back and forth, she felt the ropes around her right wrist loosen. Pulling and twisting, she finally freed her right hand.

She took a well-earned moment to rest, then used her right hand to free her left. With her hands free, she immediately unbuckled her gag and spat it out. As she untied her legs, she also worked her sore jaw back and forth. Once her legs were free, she painfully straightened them out. Successfully free, she flopped back onto the rug, enjoying the chance to stretch out.

As she lay there, she idly used her right hand to caress herself, enjoying the sensuous freedom of having escaped her bonds. Then she snorted, cursing Erik under her breath for his ability to discover yet another kinky activity that made her horny as hell, despite being horribly uncomfortable. She snorted again, remembering Mistress Amy telling her that she was a masochist. It dismayed Melissa to wonder if these activities were so arousing because they were unpleasant.

Her introspection was interrupted by her stomach twinging as it reasserted her hunger. Now she couldn’t decide if she was horny or hungry. Unhappily, she rolled over and leveraged herself to her feet, swaying unsteadily at first. With concerted effort, she pulled herself up straight and forced herself to walk as normally as she could into the kitchen.

Erik looked up from the dining table, a slow grin spreading across his face as she walked in.

“Alright,” she said, “you sick bastard. You’re right. That made me horny as hell. I don’t know why; I don’t like it, but that doesn’t matter.” She walked slowly over to the kitchen island and lay face down across the countertop. “I know we talked about being a brat this morning, and I promise it’s not going to be my default mode, but goddamn it! I’m hungry and horny, and really, truly pissed off. So tell you what – the way that’s going to get better is that you’re going to come over here and fuck me fast and hard until I come… or so help me God, I’m going to get my goddamn LARP sword, turn the shocker up to full, chase you down, and beat you fucking silly with it.”

“Oh, you say the cutest things when you get desperate.”

“Desperate and hungry! So shut up and fuck me.”

Erik laughed, walking over. “My, my, what happened to my demure little slave girl?”

“You’ve turned her into a fucking goddamn monster, Master.”

“Too true. Well, let’s see, her poor mouth is all sore from the gag, not to mention from spewing out all that strident language, so a quick suck is out. Down below, her wonderfully soft wet vagina has simply been abused and needs a break. So… I guess it’s up the ass. Thank goodness, I just happen to have some lube on me.”

“Sure, ‘just happen to have some lube’ – my ass! You planned this out, didn’t you?”

“I am a dom,” he said stepping behind. “Provoking you is so much fun. It’s absolutely delightful to tease out the brat within you.”

As cool lube dripped onto the seam between her buttocks, Melissa made herself relax against the equally cool marble of the counter top.

As he rubbed the gel against her puckered opening, Erik continued, “It does my villainous heart good to manipulate you so. Besides, you’ve learned to like anal sex so much, how could I not conspire to curve the arc of our little scene to this point?”

She eagerly let his thumb inside her, needing only a brief moment to stretch her out. Then it was gone, to be quickly replaced by the head of his penis, pressing her open. She groaned, relaxing herself against his pressure, letting him slowly slide inside her, until the full length of his penis was buried in her.

She murmured, “You’re my arch villain, Master.”

He reached around her with one hand, sliding his hand down until he could gently massage her clitoris as he began thrusting in and out of her from behind. He said quietly, “Yes, yours.”

She squeezed down on him with her sphincter muscles, encouraging him to a higher level of activity, wanting to reach her orgasm as quickly as possible. A mutual cascade of positive feedback made them both frenetic. Soon, Erik was slamming into her from behind, driving her against the countertop, as she flung herself equally forcefully back against him. She cried out in desperate need as her body shuddered again and again in a long, rolling orgasm. While not nearly as intense as her earlier orgasm, she was entirely satisfied with the result.

When her shudders of aftershock finally stilled, she lay sweaty on the marble, sliding minutely back and forth with each deep breath. Erik stepped back, slipping out of her. She mourned the loss of fullness inside her but then let herself relax bonelessly, with her upper body draped across the island and her legs dangling over the edge.

After a minute, Erik gently slid her backward off the counter and into his arms. He carried her over to the table while semen dripped out of her still-open sphincter. She tried to reach behind her with one hand to block the droplets as she mumbled an inarticulate apology, “Uhn, un, ah.”

“Don’t worry,” whispered Erik. He set her on a chair at the dining table, making sure she was capable of sitting before he completely released her. Then he picked up a spoon and fed her warm tomato soup, one spoonful at a time. When the bowl was empty, she felt steady enough to reach out, picking up a sandwich he had made for her. She ate slowly, her jaws still stretched and sore from the ball gag. Between each bite, she took a long sip of cool water to wash it down. Erik refilled her glass twice while she ate.

When the last of the sandwich was gone, she closed her eyes and sighed.

Erik said softly, “I think you should take a nap. I’ll wake you up in time for a nice warm tub. Then Mike will be here for your lesson.”

“Uhn,” she said, unhappily considering the prospect of more exercise with Mike. At the end of last week, he had told her that he was happy with her progress in shooting, so he had decided to go back to martial arts practice this week.

As though he had guessed what troubled her, Erik gave her a sympathetic grin, then gathered her up in his arms once more, before carrying her down to his bed.

Once he tucked her in and left to go back to his work, she snuggled against the cool cotton sheets. Her mind flitted across the day so far, feeling some apprehension, despite her bone-weary fatigue. She mumbled to herself, “I can’t really live this way, can I?” Unsure of an answer, she closed her eyes and let sleep carry her away.