The Hungarian Bride · Part 1

The Hungarian Bride · Part 1 (1/2)
Next

John Smith stared at his computer monitor and wondered how he could improve his drab, lonely life. Objectively, his life wasn't going badly. Just barely thirty, he was already the assistant manager of a major branch of Consolidated Bank, one of the largest banks in the Southwest. He was healthy, he worked out regularly so he was in good shape, and he didn't smoke, or drink to excess. What's wrong with me, he mused. I have a good job, a house, enough money, and I'm not bad looking, except for going bald. Yet I don't have a girlfriend. I've never had a girl friend.

John sighed. He knew very well why he didn't have a girlfriend. He was paralyzed to the point of incoherence whenever he tried to approach an available female. Some of the women at work had made broad hints they were available, but he ignored them, telling himself it wouldn't be proper to date an employee he supervised. Yeah, but how about Karen? She doesn't work for you and you practically ran when she came near.

"Ok, I'm a loser!" he shouted. Luckily, he was at home alone so nobody heard his outburst. John lived on the outskirts of the Phoenix metropolitan area, in a house he inherited from his parents. When they bought it, forty years ago, it was deep in farm country. Now it was surrounded by housing developments, but because it was in the center of ten acres of land he didn't have any close neighbors. The house itself was small, just two bedrooms, but unlike most Arizona houses it had a full basement, used now mostly to store junk.

"Well, if I can't get a real girl I'll have to make do with virtual ones," he muttered. "Let's see what's new on 'Red's Realm'." John selected the site from his bookmarked list and logged in. He downloaded some pictures and moved on to 'Shackled Maidens' and 'Hogtied'. John perused several other sites he subscribed to and was about to shut down his computer when he accidentially clicked on an ad:

EUROPEAN BRIDES AVAILABLE

For those women living in poorer countries in Eastern Europe the prospect of living in America is a factor, but it's usually not the primary one. Most women are simply looking for good husbands. They want husbands who will provide good homes for them, who will treat them well and not beat them or run around on them. They get all too much of that at home and are seeking something better. Wife abuse may occur in the US, but it's not nearly as bad in America as it is in many other cultures. Foreign women know this, and that's the major reason why so many women are interested in finding an American husband. American men treat women far better than do the men in most other countries, extremely well, by world standards.

A recent treaty allows citizens of the European Union to easily obtain a US visa, so there is no longer any of the immigration problems of the past. Fill out the form and specify what you are looking for in a wife, not just her physical appearance but also her interests and education. Also describe yourself, and our computer will match you with someone compatible. We are matchmakers, not procurers, so if all you are looking for is sex go somewhere else. Except for a small registration fee there is no charge until you marry. You arrange travel costs and other expenses directly with the woman involved and we do not take a commission.

John thought, 'What the hell', and filled out the form. He specified a woman in her twenties with some education beyond high school. All of the site photos featured very pretty women, but appearance wasn't that important to him. In spite of what the ad said this was a lot like a meat market, but he was OK with that. (He had had commercial sex in the past during trips to Las Vegas.) He wanted someone to love, and who could love him, and he felt that this was a way to bypass all of the preliminaries that had blocked him. He accurately described himself and attached a photo. He charged the $25 registration fee to the credit card he used for Internet sex and pressed 'send'.

A few weeks went by, and John was about to consider his registration fee as lost to just another Internet scam when he received an email, via the Bride website. It was from a young woman in Hungary. She said her name was Rosza Gabor, she was twenty seven, and she lived in Budapest. She had studied business and English at university and was now a management trainee at Magyar Nemzeti Bank. She attached a photo, and she was beautiful, with blue eyes, black hair, and pale skin. The photo showed her from the waist up, and her modest dress didn't obscure her shapely figure. She included her personal email address and John replied immediately.

They exchanged emails daily for the next several weeks. Most of the conversation was as mundane as one would expect, but serious matters were discussed as well. Rosza said she wanted to leave Hungary because she felt Europe was decaying. She was ambitious, but women were suppressed by the patriarchal society, and she had been passed over for promotion in favor of less-qualified men. She lived with her mother and stepfather and had almost no chance of affording a place of her own. Her stepfather often verbally abused her mother, and most of the men she knew saw nothing wrong with that, or worse. She thought John was very handsome and she wished they could meet.

When John read that Rosza wished to meet him his cynicism kicked in. Yeah, here it comes. She'll need money for airfare, and maybe her mother needs an operation too. So he was astounded when another email informed him that Rosza was flying to Phoenix the next Friday. She explained she had gotten part of the money for the tickets from her stepfather. 'Not that he wanted to give me the money, but he tried to have sex with me, and he doesn't want my mother to know. I said I would say nothing if he helped pay for the ticket.'

John replied that he would meet her at the airport and gave her his cellphone number. The rest of the week dragged by, but finally Friday, the first Friday in April, arrived. Rosza's plane was due to arrive around 10 PM, and John drove straight home from work. He had cleaned out the spare bedroom and put clean sheets on its bed. He dithered around the house, too nervous to eat. Just after six he got a phone call.

"John, this is Rosza. I'm at the airport here in Phoenix."

"What? I wasn't expecting you until ten!"

"Yes, but the flight from Hungary arrived early in New York and I was able to get a better connection. So here I am. I can't wait to see you."

"I can't wait to see you. I'll meet you on the south side of the terminal, on the arrival level. I'm at home now, and it'll take me about forty minutes to get to the airport. I'll be driving a white Honda."

"I'm wearing a blue dress. You know what I look like. I bought a cellphone in New York, so you can call me if we miss each other." She recited the number. "Please hurry, I can't wait to meet you."

John ran out of the house and got into his car. The next thing he knew he was at the airport, without remembering how he got there. He drove into the terminal and there she was, wearing a blue dress and standing next to a large shabby suitcase. He got out of the car and walked to the curb in a daze. Rosza was even more beautiful than she appeared in the photos.

She smiled and held out her arms. "Hello, John. Aren't you going to kiss me?" Without waiting for a reply she put her arms around his neck.

John hugged her tightly and their lips met. Rosza's mouth opened and her tongue flicked across his lips. After several minutes she broke lock. "Wow, that was something special," she gasped.

John noticed his surroundings. "We'd better go. We're blocking traffic." He helped Rosza into the car and loaded her suitcase into the trunk. The passion of the kiss seemed to have inhibited them, and their conversation on the way home was sparse and trivial. Rosza spoke good English, with only a trace of an accent.

Finally they arrived at John's house. As they drove up his long gravel driveway Rosza said, "You didn't tell me you lived on a farm."

"I don't do any farming, but my parents raised chickens as a hobby. There used to be nothing but farms around here, but it's all houses now. My house is kind of old and shabby. I hope you're not disappointed."

"Oh, no, this is wonderful. Besides, being with you is what is important."

They entered the front door and John led the way through the living room and into the hall. "My room is on the right and your room is on the left."

"Don't you want me to share your bed? Does my appearance disappoint you?"

"No, of course not! You are incredibly beautiful. I just didn't want to pressure you."

"In Hungary serious couples are always intimate. Put my suitcase in your room."

John hastened to comply. He asked, "Do you want something to eat? I'm starving."

"No, I had food at the airport. But can I use your computer? I want to send an email to my mother, to let her know I arrived safely."

"Sure, it's in the living room and it should be on. While you're doing that I'll get some food."

John made himself a peanut butter sandwich. When he finished eating he wandered into the living room. Rosza was staring at the computer screen, which displayed a photo of a nude woman, hogtied. John stammered, "Er, that's something that I, that is…"

Rosza interrupted, "Do you like to tie up girls? I like to be tied up."

"Huh?"

"It is good that we share an interest. Why don't we do it now? You can tie me to the bed when we have sex." She walked toward the bedroom.

John wondered if he were dreaming. On the off chance he wasn't he headed for the bedroom, with a detour to the kitchen to pick up a coil of braided cotton clothesline. When he arrived in the bedroom Rosza was naked and sitting on the edge of the bed. She smiled and held out her clasped hands. "Tie my wrists together and then to the head of the bed. We can start simple and go to more secure ties later."

John wrapped the rope around Rosza's wrists with trembling hands. He was very aware that he didn't have a lot of actual experience when it came to tying up girls, but he had a lot of vicarious experience. He cinched the loops and tied a knot where her fingers couldn't reach it. Rosza stretched out on the bed and lifted her arms over her head. The headboard was made of steel tubing, painted black, so it was easy for John to tie off the rope.

She smiled and scrunched down the bed as far as the rope allowed. John reveled at the sight of her naked body. Her breasts were firm, not floppy, just the way he liked them. She had a thick mat of black pubic hair, a dark triangle that almost reached her navel. He wasn't so sure that he liked this, but he figured it was a European style thing and he decided to give it the benefit of the doubt.

"What are you waiting for, John? Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

John quickly stripped. "Uh, I don't have any condoms…"

"Not to worry. I take the pill. Now hurry!"

John jumped on the bed. His hands roamed over Rosza's body, stroking and probing. He wasn't able to control himself for long and he thrust into her body. Rosza screamed and moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. John was sexually naive, but he more than suspected she was faking it. OK, next time I'll try to make it last longer, so she's satisfied too.

John rested for a few minutes and then turned back to Rosza. He kissed her deeply, and she returned his kiss. Next he stroked her breasts with his right hand while his left hand explored between her legs. He discovered that her thick pubic hair wasn't wiry, but instead it was soft, like moss. After a brief search he found her clit and gently stroked it. Rosza moaned and undulated her hips. As John continued kissing and touching her body Rosza responded with moans, cries, and movement. This excited John, and soon he was erect again. When he entered her again he didn't hurry, and this time her orgasm was real.

It was early Saturday morning. John was sleeping on his right side, close to Rosza, with his left hand on her right breast. He was dreaming that someone was calling his name, 'John! John!' He woke up and realized someone was calling his name. It was Rosza. He muttered, "Huh? What?"

"Wake up, John. I have to use the toilet and I'm still tied to the bed. Let me loose!"

"Oh, gee, I'm sorry! I fell asleep so fast I forgot all about it." He quickly untied Rosza's hands and got out of bed. She pushed past him, a scowl on her face.

When Rosza returned to the bedroom John apologized, "I'm sorry I left you tied up all night. I just went to sleep."

Rosza smiled. "It's nothing. Actually, it was a thrill for me, except when I had to pee. I like it when I'm tied by you."

"That's good. Uh, could we act out some fantasies? You know, play games where I tie you up? I wouldn't ask this unless I knew you liked it."

"Yes, we could do that. You won't hurt me, will you?"

"No, no, of course not! I'm not into whips or anything like that. I just want to tie you up and watch you struggle to escape. It also turns me on if you pretend to be my slave girl. I don't have any bondage equipment, so we'll have to use rope to start."

"All right. When do you want to do this?"

"Right now, but I suppose we better eat breakfast first." John put his clothes on. "I'll prepare the food while you get dressed."

John started frying eggs. Just as he finished Rosza entered the kitchen, dressed in a cotton robe. She sat at the table while he poured coffee for both of them. John quickly consumed his food but Rosza ate slowly and lingered over a second cup of coffee. Finally John asked, "Can we start now?"

"Yes, I suppose. What do you want me to do?"

"Go into the living room. Take off your robe and lie on the blanket I spread on the floor. I'll get the rope and be right there."

When John reached the living room Rosza was stretched out on her back. He paused, speechless at the sight of her naked body. Finally he croaked out, "Uh, turn over on your stomach and put your hands behind your back, palms together." He wrapped three loops of rope around her wrists and tied a knot. He circled her ankles twice with another piece of rope and tied the ends together. He cinched the ankle tie with a third piece of rope, folded Rosza's legs so her calves were vertical, and used the free end of the rope to cinch the wrist binding and form a loose hogtie.

John said, "There. See if you can escape. I don't have any more rope, so this tie isn't very secure. I'll set the timer for an hour, and if you can't get loose by then I'll untie you." He sat on the couch. "Ready, start!"

Rosza twisted her wrists, trying to gain some slack. After ten minutes of futile struggling she stopped to rest and think. Then she arched her back and pulled up her legs until she could reach the rope on her ankles. Her fingers found the knot and she untied it, releasing her ankles. She scrambled to her feet and ran into the kitchen. Rosza opened a drawer and grabbed a paring knife. She managed to get the blade inside of the loops around her wrists and the sharp knife easily cut the worn cotton rope.

John had been mesmerized by Rosza's struggling body, so he was slow to react. "Hey! Where are you going?"

He ran into the kitchen. Just as he got there Rosza raised her hands over her head in a triumphal gesture. "Ta da!" she cried.

"No fair! You cut the rope."

"You didn't say it was against the rules. So what do I win for getting loose quickly?"

John embraced her and kissed her. "How about sex? That will be a prize for me, too"

"Fine with me." They went into the bedroom.

John woke up in bed, naked and alone. He looked at the clock and was surprised to see that three hours had passed since he had sex with Rosza. I didn't realize I was so tired. Of course, I've had a lot of horizontal exercise lately. He thought about the latest episode. It was fun, but it wasn't as fun as it was when Rosza was tied up. I must really be a sex pervert. I'm lucky she is too. He got up and put his clothes on.

Rosza was in the living room, reading a paperback book. She was wearing a full cotton skirt colored in red and black stripes, a sleeveless white cotton blouse, and brown leather sandals. "Hi love," John said. "Almost time for lunch. Do you like tuna fish sandwiches? We also have peanut butter."

"I like tuna."

"OK, tuna sandwiches coming up." As John was preparing the food he thought, I seem to be doing all of the work. Maybe Rosza should be a real slave girl, instead of just a pretend one.

After lunch John said, "Let's go outside. It's a nice day." He took Rosza's hand and led her into the yard between the house and the barn. There was a steel pole there, supporting a light. He put her back against the pole and crossed her wrists behind it.

"John! What are you doing?"

"It's time for another bondage adventure. I'm going to tie you to this pole, but I only have enough rope to tie your wrists. Now stop struggling!"

"But I don't want to be tied up outside!"

"Don't worry, you aren't visible from the road." John wrapped horizontal and vertical loops around Rosza's wrists and tied a knot. With his last piece of rope he cinched the loops and tied a knot where her fingers couldn't reach it. "There! Get out of that. You can't get a kitchen knife now. But maybe I should search you to be sure you don't have one hidden on you." He squeezed and stroked her bottom and ran his hands around her waist. "Nope, nothing there." He kissed her. "I've got to do some shopping. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"You are just going to leave me here like this?"

"It'll be safe enough. You won't be hurt if the house catches on fire, and there haven't been any wolves in the vicinity for several months. I'll close and lock the gate on my way out, so there won't be any casual visitors."

Rosza opened her mouth to protest, but then thought, I told him I liked to be tied up. I can't complain now. "Well then, kiss me again, and hurry back."

John drove to a hardware store, where he bought various varieties of rope. After some thought he also bought chain, locks, and zip ties. There wasn't any sex store near by, but he had an inspiration and visited a large pet store where he purchased a heavy-duty leather dog collar. At a fabric store he bought some cloth from the remnants pile.

When John got back home Rosza was still tied to the pole, but now she was sitting on the ground and leaning against it. He said, "Still tied up? You aren't much of an escape artist. Are you ready for our next scenario?"

"I suppose so, but I'd like to rest a bit first, and I need to pee."

John untied Rosza's hands. "Go lie down for a while. I have a some preparation to do. I'll call you when I'm ready." He carried his purchases into the barn.

Rosza stood up and rubbed her wrists. The man's a fanatic. What did I let myself in for?

About an hour later John entered the bedroom. Rosza was face down on the bed, her naked body covered by a sheet. He touched her shoulder. "Time to wake up."

"Huh, so soon?"

"Yep. This is your costume, all of it." He handed her a small paper sack. "Put it on and meet me in the living room and I'll explain the next scenario."

Rosza examined the sack. All it contained was a long rectangle of filmy yellow-orange rayon cloth and a short piece of thin brown rope. The rayon was narrow and had a longitudinal cut in the center. She put her head through the cut. The cloth was long enough to reach her knees in front and back. She tied the rope around her waist as a belt. Rosza looked at herself in the mirror on the bedroom door. She liked the way she looked.

John was sitting on the couch in the living room. Rosza danced in and twirled in front of him. "You like?" she asked.

"Wow. You are incredibly beautiful." The narrow cloth strip left Rosza's hips and the sides of her breasts exposed. Her nipples and pubic hair were visible through the thin cloth. "You are sexier in that than you are when you're naked."

"Thank you, sir. I like it too. Now, tell me what we are going to do."

"OK, in this scenario you are a warrior princess who has been captured and enslaved. Your spirit hasn't been broken, but you've been flogged so often that you no longer make defiant gestures. You address the Duke who owns you (that's me) as 'Master' and you kneel in his presence. He wants to tame you, so he keeps you chained and makes you do humiliating things, such as menial labor. Any questions?"

The Hungarian Bride · Part 1 (1/2)
Next