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Melissa · Bound · Part 1

Melissa · Bound · Part 1 (1/2)
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(N. B. This is a sequel to my earlier story “Melissa’s Quality Time”, which ideally should be read first)

Melissa peeped through the gap in the curtains, as the sound of a car coming to a halt outside reached her ears. It was getting dark outside now, and the movement-sensitive light in the apartment block’s car park had just activated to reveal the sight of Louisa’s Toyota Yaris pulling up in the space set aside for visitors. Melissa smiled as she watched Louisa open the driver’s door and get out into the gathering gloom of a chilly autumn evening. “Tonight Louisa” she thought to herself “you’re going to get your come-uppance. And I’m going to take so much pleasure from making you suffer for what you put me through.”

The click-clack of Louisa’s high heels could be heard increasing in volume as the tall, attractive blonde sauntered gracefully across the courtyard. Melissa could tell from Louisa’s attire that she had come here directly from work. Despite the cold, her beige suit jacket was open, revealing a white, low-cut silk blouse beneath. Her skirt was short and her long slender legs were sheathed in sheer black tights. Momentarily, Louisa disappeared from Melissa’s view as she neared the building and rounded the corner to the entrance lobby.

This lack of visual contact did nothing to stem the sound of her approaching heels, which continued to grow in intensity until, within no more than twenty seconds of Louisa’s form vanishing from the car park, the door bell rang. Melissa, who was already waiting beside the door, took a deep breath, put on a big smile which she hoped wouldn’t seem too false, and opened the door to her visitor.

It had been with more than a little trepidation that Louisa had come here tonight. It was now several months since that Saturday afternoon in the spring when she had stumbled upon Melissa participating in her secret hobby, and had decided to have a bit of fun at her friend’s expense. Having walked in to find Melissa in the throes of some weird fantasy game that involved handcuffing, binding and gagging herself, Louisa had decided to play along. After all, Melissa was the one who had hog-tied herself to the point where she could only escape with some difficulty, so she must enjoy being left all alone and helpless, mustn’t she?

On the spur of the moment, Louisa had decided to add to her friend’s bonds, whilst also removing the handcuff key from Melissa’s reach; effectively trapping her there until further notice. Having applied a scarf blindfold and then sheathed her head in a pair of tights, Louisa had then left her friend languishing on the bed for several hours in this sorry state. She’d returned later that evening, of course, but had then got carried away; deciding it would be a good idea to leave her helpless victim to get free on her own; after all, Melissa had initiated this whole bondage game, so Louisa had assumed that she wouldn’t mind staying that way for a while longer.

She had left the handcuff key on the duvet, of course, although at exactly which location on the double bed this had been placed, she had failed to specify; figuring that it shouldn’t take the trussed up woman too long to trawl the bed covers and release herself, even taking into account her extreme state of bondage. But on this latter point Louisa had miscalculated badly, and unforeseen events had then conspired to ensure that Melissa had remained hopelessly imprisoned in her own apartment for another forty hours or so.

And it was this latter circumstance that had led to the pair, quite understandably, falling out. When Melissa hadn’t turned up for work on Monday morning, Louisa knew immediately the reason for her non appearance, although it would be lunchtime before she was in a position to make her excuses and get away from work to go to her aid. Not surprisingly, after so long gagged, blindfolded and strictly hog-tied, Melissa was thirsty, hungry and very uncomfortable. She was also visibly terrified. But the one overriding emotion that poured from Melissa was extreme rage.

As soon as her gag had been removed, she had vented her anger in no uncertain terms on her captor-turned-rescuer, so much so that Louisa found herself almost hesitating to untie her, lest she became violent. Despite Louisa’s heartfelt apologies, and her attempted explanation that she had assumed that Melissa had been able to free herself and that she hadn’t meant for her to suffer all weekend, it was obvious that Melissa was having none of it, and that their friendship was over.

In fact, such were the threats and promises of retribution that flowed effortlessly from the wronged woman’s mouth, that Louisa had not dared to completely release her bonds; merely unlocking the handcuffs and loosening her elbows to an extent that she could now, albeit with difficulty, free herself with a few minutes’ effort. Louisa had then beaten a hasty retreat from Melissa’s flat; a storm of abuse ringing in her ears, the gist of which seemed to be that Melissa would be seeking revenge on her former friend for putting her through this two day ordeal.

Fortunately for Louisa, Melissa had seemingly told no one about her weekend of bondage torment; presumably because she didn’t want anyone to know about her secret lifestyle. Their relationship, however, both as friends and work colleagues, had soured beyond repair… or so it seemed. Luckily, Louisa had been promoted and moved into another office, thus reducing the frequency of encounters between the two of them to virtually nil. And that, as far as Louisa was concerned, seemed to be that.

So it was with great surprise, not to mention a degree of suspicion, that Louisa opened her inbox one morning earlier that week, to discover an email from Melissa. Under ‘Subject’, one single word had been typed: ‘Reconciliation’.

Tentatively, Louisa had opened the message, expecting the communication to concern some work related matter – perhaps to do with reconciliation of accounts, or some such – and to be of a formal nature. So she was shocked to discover this not to be the case; far from it in fact. The message was written in a friendly manner, and the title had indeed been an accurate indicator of Melissa’s reason for breaking the ice after all this time. In fact, Melissa was almost apologetic for her behaviour towards Louisa on that Monday afternoon.

Although the email was quite long, it was clear that the main thrust of the missive was that Melissa was holding out an olive branch, in order to try to undo the damage that had been caused, and to try to rekindle their friendship. Reading between the lines, the message was clear: let bygones be bygones. Melissa had even suggested that they meet up at her flat this coming Wednesday evening to, as she put it, “patch things up between us”.

Louisa had been in two minds about whether to accept the invitation. After all, this could be a trap. For hadn’t Melissa threatened vengeance for being left helplessly bound for all that time? But on the other hand, the tone seemed genuine. And Louisa did miss the friendship that the pair had once shared. So after much deliberation, she replied; expressing her own regret at the pain and suffering she’d caused, and confirming that she would indeed be delighted to come around to Melissa’s flat at the scheduled time.

And so, that Wednesday evening, Louisa found herself standing on the doorstep of Melissa’s apartment; that same one bedroom flat in which the events had occurred that had led to the sorry state of affairs that now existed between the two women. With butterflies seemingly having a field-day in her stomach, she rang the bell.

Whatever qualms Louisa may have been entertaining whilst waiting for the door to open, these were soon alleviated as Melissa welcomed her into her home with a smile, and immediately managed to put her visitor at ease.

“Come through to the living room and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got a good bottle of Chablis chilling in the fridge, if you fancy a glass.”

Chablis, as Melissa knew, was Louisa’s favourite wine, and it appeared that her host was pulling out all the stops in her efforts to heal the wounds between them. Louisa confirmed that a glass of wine would be most welcome and, whilst Melissa headed off to the kitchen, made her way into the main living area.

On the way, however, she passed the open bedroom door, and couldn’t help but glance within. It was here, of course, that she had accidently stumbled upon the self-bound form of Melissa. For some reason, this image sent a shiver of fear rushing up her spine, and for a second or two she contemplated turning on her heels and exiting the flat, and to hell with any reconciliation. Why this should cause such a reaction, Louisa wasn’t quite sure, although she guessed that it had something to do with the severity of the way she had bound her best friend, and the callous way she’d simply abandoned her here. Surely Melissa wasn’t about to simply forget about the two days of what must have been insufferable torment, was she? There had to be some more sinister reason for asking her to come over this evening, didn’t there?

Louisa quickly banished these thoughts from her mind. She had never known Melissa to be a malicious person, or one to hold grudges, so why would she start now?

Opening the living room door, Louisa made her way in and sat down in an armchair. Within seconds Melissa reappeared, carrying a tray with a bottle of already opened Chablis Premier Cru and two filled glasses. Placing one in front of Louisa, she took the chair on the other side of the low coffee table.

For a few seconds there was silence, before Melissa finally spoke.

“Well I’m glad you could make it here tonight Louisa. After what happened, I never thought we’d be sitting here in the same room having a civilised conversation again. I must admit that after you left me all tied up and helpless, for a long time I really did want to make you suffer. But time is a great healer, and I think that it would be good to bury the hatchet now and start afresh. What do you say? Are we friends again?”

Not really knowing what to say, Louisa nodded.

“Good, that’s settled then. Here’s to friendship.”

Melissa leaned forward and held out her glass. Louisa did likewise, and the slightest touch of the two vessels produced a barely audible clink. Immediately Melissa took a sip of her wine, never once taking her eyes off the woman sitting opposite her.

Louisa held her glass up to her lips but, for some reason, she hesitated. Something didn’t seem quite right here. What was it exactly? She shook herself out of it. She was being paranoid. Melissa seemed sincere in her desire to forget the past, and it would be rude to decline her hospitality now. Slowly, Louisa took a sip of her wine. It tasted good, and she realised that the tense nature of the situation had made her throat dry. She took a second, larger sip. Looking up, she realised that Melissa’s eyes were still on her. She was smiling.

“An excellent wine isn’t it? I knew that this was your favourite and that you wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to try it.”

Louisa looked down at the wine in her glass momentarily. That was weird. She’d only taken a couple of sips and already the alcohol was affecting her vision. She looked up again. Melissa was still smiling at her, but now her features seemed somewhat indistinct. Moving her head to one side, the room began to spin and her eyelids seemed to become heavier. She looked back at Melissa, whose smile now seemed more like an evil grin. With a voice that she hardly recognised as her own, Louisa just about managed to stutter a few words.

“What…have you done…to me?”

As if in slow motion, Melissa rose from her chair and walked round the table; her face seeming contorted and grotesque to the now extremely befuddled Louisa. She was just in time to catch her guest’s shoulders as they slumped forward.

“You have a nice little sleep now Louisa. I’ve got a surprise for you when you wake up.”

Louisa’s eyes closed and the sound of Melissa’s voice seemed to become ever more distant. And then there was only oblivion.

Louisa’s journey back into consciousness was a slow ride, with her senses waking bit by minuscule bit. Her initial sensory impression was of a monotonous ‘plink, plink’ sound, that echoed deep within the chambers of her ears every three or four seconds. Seemingly muffled at first, the sound gradually sharpened as her mental faculties awoke, until it became recognisable as drops of water bouncing off a hard surface; possibly brick or concrete. Her olfactory senses kicked in next, as her nostrils detected a damp, musty odour which suggested that, wherever this place might be, it wasn’t particularly well ventilated.

And this was accompanied by a strange bitter taste that seemed to fill her mouth and irritated her parched throat. In her confused state, she tried to move, but both her arms and legs appeared to run into resistance whichever way they tried to turn. Her body, too, seemed to be constrained by some unknown presence. Indeed, only her head seemed to have retained any degree of freedom of movement, and she took advantage of this by gently rolling her stiff neck from side to side. To complement this action, she tried to flex her shoulders, but they seemed to be held by some immovable force.

Although her eyelids still felt too heavy to attempt opening them, Louisa had by now recovered her wits sufficiently to have taken on board one or two strange facts about her situation. Firstly, she appeared to be standing up, which seemed an odd position to have slept in. Secondly, her hands seemed as if they were welded together behind her back, as the fingers on her right hand were in contact with their counterparts on the left, and no amount of pulling or straining could prize them apart. And it soon became obvious that her legs were similarly fused in several places, from her ankles right up to her thighs. There was no doubt about it; something strong and immovable was impeding the use of her limbs and keeping her rooted to the spot.

For several minutes, the dripping sound continued unabated; the only sound, save for her shallow breathing and the beat of her heart. Although gradually recovering her composure, Louisa still hadn’t worked out where she was or what had happened to her, although the nature of the obstruction preventing her hands from separating was obviously something that had been tightly clamped around her wrists, which felt metallic in nature. She tried to remember where she’d been before this unexpected spell of slumber had overtaken her, and the image of Melissa – with that gloating smile on her face – at once flashed across her mind’s eye. And it was the thought of Melissa that led her back to that day where she’d left her friend tied up, gagged….and handcuffed.

Handcuffs!! This sudden enlightenment as to the nature of the metal objects around her wrists caused her to open her eyes wide. At first she could see very little in the gloom. But as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she realised that she was no longer in Melissa’s apartment. The room she had been brought to whilst she slept had one very small window, high up on the wall to her left. No more than two feet square, the quartered panes looked to be encrusted in dirt and mildew, although a faint light could still be discerned from beyond; which made this spot stand out against the darker walls.

So where was she? The height of the window suggested a basement, but other than that there was no clue as to her location. Louisa glanced around the rest of the room. To her right, vaguely illuminated by the window’s murky light, there seemed to be a heavy wooden door; closed. The rest of the walls looked to be hewn from concrete, as did the floor and ceiling, the latter being around two feet or so above her head.

But the character of her environment was not the primary source of worry to her at that moment. Of much more concern was the fact that, as she peered down from her standing position, the most prominent, not to mention disturbing features that met her gaze in the pale light of the moon, were the myriad of white ropes that seemed to encircle her from chest to ankles. Wound around her shoulders, under her armpits, criss-crossing her breasts, encircling her waist, and running between her legs. All of which secured her to…what? Louisa’s fingers investigated the post to which she seemed to have been tethered, finding it to be a stout metal pipe of some description. And behind this, her hands came into contact with cold stone or concrete, which informed her that the pipe ran vertically parallel to, and no more than a few inches from, one wall.

In an effort to make her escape, Louisa tried to force her legs away from this anchorage point, but found that her lower limbs – just like the rest of her anatomy – had been secured to such an extent that she couldn’t move. Whoever had done this to her, had made every effort to ensure that getting free was not going to be an option. Her legs, it now transpired, had been doubly bound, Firstly, her thighs, calves, knees and ankles had been tied together, with the ropes cinched between them and tight knots applied to ensure that nothing loosened as she tried – as her captor must have known she would – to liberate herself. But then, more rope had been added, at several points between her thighs and her feet, to lash her limbs securely to the immovable mooring post.

Louisa screamed, but the parched nature of her throat and mouth ensured that the sound which emerged was hoarse and strangled. It did have the effect of rousing someone’s attention, however, as almost immediately the sound of footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door, and within seconds the heavy wooden panel creaked open and torchlight filled the room.

The bright glare blinded Louisa momentarily, but as her eyes slowly compensated for this abrupt change in luminosity, she recognised the smiling figure standing before her.

“Melissa!… What did you do to me?… Where are we?… Please let me out of this!”

Melissa swung the beam up and down over Louisa’s bound and helpless form, as if admiring her handiwork. This inspection also caused Louisa to glance down again. Now, with the slowly shifting shaft of light gliding over her frame, she realised for the first time that she was no longer wearing her jacket. Her skirt, too, had been removed, leaving her from the waist down, clothed only in her black tights and panties. Her shoes had also disappeared. Higher up, her blouse had been rearranged somewhat, with all the buttons bar the bottom one having been unfastened. And it was obvious that the silk material had then been deliberately pulled aside, to reveal her bra-cupped breasts; the severe nature of the bindings around her torso causing them to thrust outwards in an exposed and exaggerated manner.

Still Melissa remained silent; simply content, it seemed, to wait for the dire nature of her erstwhile friend’s plight to sink in and see what reaction this would produce. The answer was another, more urgent, plea for release.

“Come on Mel. Look, I said I was sorry about leaving you tied up all weekend. Please don’t leave me here like this.”

Louisa strained at her bonds, but it was clear that she was going nowhere without assistance. And even before she broke her silence, it was obvious that Melissa had no intention of setting her captive free anytime soon. In leisurely manner, she began pacing the room; the torch beam bobbing around the confined space, revealing, dark, damp, mildew encrusted walls, and water dripping from a number of rusting pipes that crossed the ceiling. Finally, she came back to where Louisa stood and placed the torch on the floor so that the beam shone directly upwards into her captive’s face.

“You know, those drugs are more powerful than I thought, and I didn’t expect them to work as fast as they did. I’ve been waiting for over an hour and a half now for you to come round. Still, it was worth it to see the horror on your face when you recognised the perilous state that you now find yourself in.”

Louisa bucked and strained at her bonds, which only made Melissa laugh cruelly.

“You won’t be getting out of that, so it seems a bit pointless working yourself up into a frenzy for no good reason. Just relax and enjoy yourself.”

Louisa tried not to show her fear, but when she spoke there was a definite tremor in her voice.

“Come on Melissa. What’s this going to achieve? Let me out of this and we can talk this thing through like civilised human beings.”

“Civilised?” Melissa’s anger suddenly erupted. “You call leaving me bound, gagged and hooded all weekend civilised? I told you I’d have my revenge, and you’re so stupid you fell right into my little trap. Well now you’re going to pay for what you did to me.”

Pulling something from her coat pocket with her right hand, Melissa swiftly grabbed Louisa’s chin with her left and, before the bound woman knew what was happening, she had forcibly inserted the rolled up pair of old tights into her startled mouth.

“I didn’t like to gag you while you were unconscious, just in case you choked. But now you’re back in the land of the living, I need to ensure that you don’t cause a commotion and try to alert anyone to your whereabouts.”

Louisa tried to spit the foul tasting material out, but Melissa had already made plans to ensure this course of action was out of the question. Smoothing the end of the duct tape over Louisa’s mouth, she carefully began wrapping the strongly bonding adhesive strips around her lower face and head. In an attempt to halt this process, Louisa shook her head, whilst pleading for leniency in ever more muffled tones as the layers of tape increased. This futile attempt to hinder the inevitable, however, only made Melissa laugh again.

Melissa · Bound · Part 1 (1/2)
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