The Dinner Date · Part 1 (1/2)
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Never did the term “Opposites Attract” apply more than it did to Vicki Kane and Mandy Moore. The 2 girls met while in training for the FBI’s cadet program. Both had a strong interest in law enforcement but each had very different reasons for being where they were now. Vicki was a tall slender but shapely brunette raised in the Midwest. She was 3rd generation law enforcement and came loaded with a full set full of conservative values and her fathers solid work ethic. Mandy was California born and raised. A blue eyed, busty blond with a body and an attitude that looked like it just stepped off of Rodeo drive in Hollywood. Despite their differences they both saw their opportunity at the FBI as a chance to make a difference in the world.
That was 2 ½ years ago. In that time after successfully passing all the tests and training the FBI could challenge the two with they had graduated. It did not take long though for them to realize their position in the agency. They were “Token Minorities.” Since graduation they had been assigned every clerical and administrative job the agency could find. They were in their own words,” Secretaries with Guns.”
On the good side the girls had developed a blossoming friendship. They had common interests after all, Law Enforcement, Guns and Handcuffs. The two had become room mates and over time their natural interest in handcuffs turned into a fetish for bondage. After all the agency was a treasure chest of fascinating restraints and the girls had both spent plenty of time in them during their training, maybe just a little too much time Vicki had more then once commented. The girls found they loved to challenge each other with a wild variety of bondage games. At least to one it was challenging. To the other it was turning into something much, much deeper.
Despite the boredom Vicki took great pride in her work though still mostly clerical, but Mandy just did the minimum to get by. That all changed the day their new boss entered the office for the first time. Matt Striker was a tall, tanned, muscular man in his mid 50’s with a square jaw, salt and pepper hair and a six pack. Matt carried all the spit and polish they taught him as a Marine aviator to a new level. The first time Vicki met Matt she was immediately impressed by his professionalism and “Take Command” authoritativeness. Mandy on the other hand said her knees went weak. It only took a short while for both girls to develop a crush on him despite their differing reasons.
Matt held his emotions close to his chest while on the job. He had to because underneath it all his nerves were held together with razor wire. As a Marine pilot and veteran of 48 missions over North Vietnam, Matt had been shot down in one of the last missions of the war. Held as a prisoner for 17 months he was subjected to terrible, unspeakable tortures that he never surrendered to. He denied his captors of even the smallest bit of information from him. Little did the girls know that one day soon he would expect that kind of courage and dedication of them?
One afternoon at work Mandy came running up to Vicki’s desk obviously excited about something. “Matt… Matt… Matt just spoke to me,” she stammered out.
“Calm down girl. He talks to all of us every day what is the big deal?” Replied Vicki as she tried to get Mandy to slow down and make sense.
Finally after taking 3 deep breaths and counting to ten Mandy was able to deliver the news. Matt was heading up a new task force. This was a counter terrorist force designed to go after the terrorists where they could be hurt most, in the pocket book. It seemed that the US had gained intelligence that Mid Eastern terrorists had been collaborating with South American drug dealers in an international slave trading ring. There had been a recent rise in the disappearance of rich, young white American girls on vacations in popular Caribbean and South American vacation hot-spots.
Reliable intelligence had concluded that these girls had been smuggled out of the country to the middle east and sold as sex slaves to rich Mid Eastern Oil barons and the profits were being use to fund Iranian Terrorist training camps. Matt had been given approval by the Security Council to infiltrate the group, capture whoever was at the source of the kidnappings and cut off the money trail to the terrorists.
“We have to volunteer for this task force,” said Mandy. “This is our one chance to see some action.” For once Mandy was right. Vicki knew she would never see any action in the FBI until she first could see over the pile of paperwork on her desk. “Let’s do it!” they both screamed.
So they did. Both were surprised by Matt Strikers willingness to accept their applications to the task force and even more surprised by how quickly their advanced training had begun. Within a week they were part of a ten person unit in training for the CTU (Counter Terrorist Unit) taskforce. They and all of the applicants had been told by Matt at the beginning that this was a tryout, that there would only be 5 people including him in the unit. That meant 6 of the group of 5 women and 5 men would be scrubbed out during the training.
After the basic FBI training part, pretty boring for the most part, was out of the way the training quickly got into role playing. Each scenario was different but at the heart of each the goal was to gain information out of your adversary. Candidates played both parts of the scene. Sometimes Vicki got to play the good guy and sometimes the bad guy. Points were awarded and scores kept for every scenario. Each was played out until there was a winner or a loser. You lost when you were tripped up and discovered to be either a spy or you divulged your information. If you lost the game you were either captured or arrested, depending on your point of view. Either way you ended up bound. At the end of nearly every role play someone got tied up, handcuffed, or hogtied. Whatever it took to restrain them was fair game because the scene didn’t end then.
Once tied up it was then your job to escape. In Matt’s point system you got double points for escaping and if someone got out of your bondage you lost double points. So these role playing games became a contest of who could out Houdini, Houdini. At first everyone thought it was kind of strange but after discussing it between themselves the candidates wrote it off to Matt having been a prisoner of war and his obsession with escaping. After a couple of weeks of the training however, Matt gathered the group together and explained to all of them his purpose.
“This group of Terrorists we are targeting,” he explained, “is in the business of kidnapping and restraining people. If you allow yourself to be caught and made one of their victims you are no good to this team. Don’t ever for one moment think that you are indestructible or untouchable. I was protected by the most sophisticated airplane in the world 28,000 feet in the air and I was taken out by a missile no bigger than a baseball bat. I expect 4 out of 5 of you to be captured at some point in your career As long as there is an ounce of blood in your veins I expect you to keep fighting. If you are captured and bound by the enemy they will take you for granted. At that point you can either give up or become a secret weapon aimed at them. It’s your choice.”
Matt’s words inspired Vicki and energized her to double her efforts. Vicki was tied up with rope, chains, cuffs, telephone wire, bed sheets, whatever was made available. Of course Vicki liked being tied up and her captors soon found to their dismay that she was very good at escaping. But for all the points she earned escaping, she lost points at tying people up. Even Mandy who was constantly being caught would escape from Vicki’s knots and padded her scores when they were placed in opposite rolls.
Vicki’s frustration with not being a good enough rigger led her directly into Mandy’s arms outside of work. The girls had played with bondage before and Vicki knew Mandy had a thing for her, but she only occasionally let her guard down. She kept telling herself that she was straight, but an occasional lesbian experience was ok to let off some tension. Now the competitive drive in her took over and her personal life became a bondage marathon. Over the course of the next few weeks not only was she being challenged at work but at home she was either being tied by or tying up Mandy 6-8 hours every night.
The girls bought books on the subject, purchased a small fortune in equipment at a local adult store and bookmarked dozens of internet sites honing their skills. Vicki was hogtied, ball tied, frog tied, suspended, spread-eagled and inverted. She learned the strappedo, the reverse prayer, elbow crush and the hammer tie. She learned that every inch of a woman can be tied. She experienced crotch ropes, breast harnesses, thumb cuffs, posture collars, and nipple clamps.
Every evening became a contest of who could tie who in the most intricate way. For Vicki it was the competitive challenge. For Mandy it was one opportunity after another to grope, fondle and stroke Vicki’s supple young body. Good Bondage has to be tight Vicki would say and Mandy would add that for it to be challenging, you have to be nude. In each girls way they were getting what they wanted.
On one particular night the reward of the night for the winner of the contest was that the loser would take the winner out for a dinner of her choice. Mandy had won that evening, escaping from Vicki’s handcuffs, ballgag and crotch rope in 32 seconds less than Vicki had escaped from her bondage. Little did Vicki know that Mandy had tampered with the timer to insure the out come. Since it was not Vicki’s choice, Mandy had chosen a very nice and private restaurant on the far side of town. After the girls had showered and done their hair and makeup, Vicki was surprised when she came into her bedroom to find a pile of skimpy lingerie and bondage gear on the bed in place of the dress she had laid there. “Hey, what’s up?” Vicki cried out.“Since I won my choice for dinner I get to chose how you are dressed for the evening as well.” replied Mandy.
Vicki thought about protesting for a moment and then bit her lip. Might as well go along and take this as a challenge too.
The dress was more like a short teddy; it barely covered the cheeks of her firm little butt. Mandy has insisted that she wear no bra so the skimpy top and thin straps did little to cover Vicki’s jiggling cleavage. Fortunately Vicki knew this restaurant and it was dark so she wasn’t too concerned about revealing any secrets. Next came the accessories. Mandy handed her a thin black leather collar. Not bad, Vicki thought, most people would let it pass for a necklace and not think twice about it. It had a loop in the buckle for a padlock but there was none on the bed so Vicki thought she had at least escaped that one. No such luck however as Mandy handed her a large silver padlock with the word Master on it. How appropriate she thought as she slipped the hasp into the loop. “Hold on a minute,” cried Mandy, “Not so fast, lock this on too”. She handed Vicki a one foot long chain.
“What’s this for?” “For Later,” came the reply. So without any further hesitation Vicki slipped the hasp thru a chain link, it barely passed, and locked the Master lock onto the collar buckle with a resounding click. The weight of the big lock and the chain hanging down her back actually pulled her head back slightly. There would be no slouching tonight. Vicki looked at herself in the mirror. Hooker costume she thought. Damn I actually look pretty hot! She turned to get a pretty good view of her back. Her long dark hair at least hid the chain trailing down her upper back but the bottom of her butt cheeks were hanging out. She slid the dress down to cover them and as she did her nipples popped out of the top. “Good, I needed them next,” said Mandy as she approached Vicki with 2 twist- ties in her hand.
“What are those for?” cried a now frightened Vicki. “Now hold it sister, just what is tonight’s game?” she asked.
“Ok here is the deal,” and Mandy went on to explain. “Tonight the challenge is on concentration. During dinner I intend to read the technical manual to you on the new SR933 surveillance scanner. After dinner I will give you a test to see what you remembered.”
“So what is the big deal?” asked Vicki.
“I have arranged several uh, uh, distractions for you to make it difficult for you to concentrate.” answered Mandy.
“So those are going where?” asked the now slightly fearful Vicki.
“On your nipples of course,” replied Mandy. Not waiting for permission Mandy took each nipple in turn and after rolling each in her fingers to make it hard tied the wire twist-tie around the base of each nipple insuring that the little buds would stay engorged with blood and hard for the entire evening. Not a bad feeling thought Vicki. Why didn’t I think of that years ago? However when Mandy raised her dress back up to cover them and Vicki took a few steps she felt the material rub across each hard nipple and a tingle ran thru her chest. Oh! This could be int
The Dinner Date · Part 1 (1/2)
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