Saturday morning Darla rushes out of her bedroom and almost passes me by when suddenly turning, plants a smoldering kiss on my lips, then with an arch in her eyebrow says, “Be good Phoebes, see you back around noon, ok!”.

Be good! Hmph, hell yes I’m always good, and when I’m bad, as the cliché goes, I’m only better… and so in this frame of mind I find myself wandering the many aisles of my fave local hardware store.

I’m in here looking for some better method, besides using plain old rope, to tether myself in our backyard when the urge to do a solo bondage scene arises. Chain is always my first choice but the larger linked kind really makes too much of that lovely rattley noise (we have somewhat active neighbors on either side) and I've had bad luck with the small kind of chain getting impossibly knotted and tangled up while pacing around the yard waiting for the chunk of hanging ice to melt and expose the precious key contained inside.

So I happen upon a package containing 50 feet of plastic coated clothesline cable. Hey what is this! I talk to the ever helpful aisle guy there and he tells me that I also need these "aluminum ferrules" that you crimp with a vise on the cable ends to make your cable loops. Perfect. Rushing home I now have an idea just how I’ll be spending my morning.

The plastic coating on the cable is an eyepleasing green and I thought, “what a pretty collar or perhaps hobble that would make.” So I cut what I estimated to be enough to fit around my neck, leaving extra to loop back through the "ferrules". Cutting this with wire cutters was really difficult and I hurt my wrist from squeezing on the cutters so forcefully. Crimping the ends, literally on the other hand, was easy using the workbench vise in the garage. Soon I had my pretty green collar all ready to try on!

On to my bedroom. Playing around I discover the coolest thing in that if I made a small noose with the cable and then slip the other end of the cable through the first noose I now had what looked like wire handcuffs. Sort of shaped like this: O_O. I can slip one hand in one loop and have just enough room to barely squeeze my other hand through the other. Of course with my hands in front I can just barely wriggle a hand out and escape, but hey, how about when lying down on my bed?

I take off my jeans and socks then bounce happily on the mattress. The windows are open and the sheer lace trimmed curtains are thrown back. I’m now looking out upon a beautiful sunlit morning and taking a deep breath become conscious of how fast my heart is beating. My bed is a lovely queen size four-poster with lots of spindles that support a sturdy arched headboard and matching footboard. Tossing the satin pillows off I now lie back and place my wrists up over my head through a spindle. I feel confident that I can work a hand free and sure enough I do just that. Oh, but the rush of accomplishing that feat has ignited an old feeling in me and I’m starting to feel more than a little warm glow in my belly!

The headboard spindles are about three inches apart and if I place two of them between my hands I can barely reach the open loop with my free hand. As I work my hand in my forearms are sliding further down the space between the bedroom wall and the spindles. Now my elbows are reaching near even with my ears. Slowly, carefully I work the wire slip noose up my wrist, but as I do this I have to keep squeezing my forearms into the two spindles separating my hands and thus widening out my elbows that are now being wedged upon the outer spindles. Ouch.

With a heart pounding rush finally my wrist is snared and I then alternately thrash about and luxuriate in my captivity. The warmth below has now turned to glorious radiating waves. Each one building and building upon the other. I manage to hold off until the tension is too much to bear and gasping, quickly squeeze my legs together while at the same time pull with all my might against the spindles. Bliss, absolute fucking bliss as multiple orgasms grip and send me far, far away.

Of course my private bliss balloon must come to land sometime, right? Right. I now find myself flat on my back in soaking panties with my wrists firmly held prisoner inside a double loop of stupid green clothesline cable.

I’m stuck. There’s no other word for it. Every angle I attempt in order to gain slack in the loops is always thwarted by the bedroom wall or some combination of the headboard spindles which are preventing my forearms from moving in the direction that will free me. I’m stuck! I can’t believe how well the loops have my wrists held!

Gazing out the bedroom windows I watch what little of the morning I can see go by. I start when I hear my neighbor rustling around and briefly think of calling out to him since I’m still fairly presentable. Hey not like I’m wearing my chains and gag or even nude for that matter. I’m just STUCK!

The front door slams and Darla’s voice calls out, “Phoebe it‘s me, I’m home. Phoebes? Where are you?” Soft footsteps approach from the hall and Darla’s surprised face peers in.

“Hi, honey, how was work?” I say with my most radiant smile. I’m greeted with her patented 20 second death stare with tightly clenched hands that are firmly planted on her hips.

“Goddammit Phoebe, here we go again”. Walking over to assess my situation she leans over me and notes the green cable loops around my wrists, and in the same motion runs a hand over my soaked panties, sending major shivers bucking through me that don’t go entirely unnoticed by her.

Bringing her hand up briefly to smell my scent, she starts in on me. First, about the dangers of messing up like this in solo play; fire, earthquake, wrath of God stuff… then the hurt she feels at being left out while I’m clenching my way to nirvana, and finally my promise to her of not engaging in any solo play without telling her first.

Giving me a last lingering stare I see a flicker of a smile form at the corners of her mouth, “I was planning for us to have a fun day together Phoebe, and I’m not going to let you ruin that plan.” She slowly turns away and then as if an afterthought, abruptly slams shut the windows.

I have a large old wooden hope chest at the foot of my bed. In it are most of my bondage things, and to this chest is where Darla begins rummaging. Events were now looking most decidedly up. Items in it start thumping onto the bed and I decide to close my eyes and lie back as this really isn’t an uncomfortable position to be bound in.

I let my inspired sweetheart take complete charge. Like I actually have a choice in the matter…

A mask appears before me. Soft padded leather, it feels cool on my face as she lifts my head to buckle it tightly behind. A long kiss and then another while a hand runs lightly over my panties and they begin to be drawn down then tossed near enough that I smell my own fragrance. Now my ankles are being spread wide, probably by tie down straps, and secured to the spindles at the footboard.
Shifting around to even the tension on my limbs I feel the bed move and now Darla is sitting on my hips. Fingernails rake upward on my ribs as she pushes my bra and tee-shirt up over my head. Hands lightly massage my nipples, firming them as they rise to greet these most tender caresses.

More kisses long and deep, each one building on a reawakening fire below. She’s laying on top of me now making low growling noises as we continue to kiss. Finally she slides off the bed and warm sunlight now streaming through the windows is full upon me. This is heaven! Almost, damn, I can’t pull my legs together and so the waves continue to pulse through me. Now my legs are being repositioned, crossing over so that I have to twist and lay on my left side. “Open”, she commands as my wet panties are now pressing against my lips. Defiantly I shake my head no. “Fine, have it your way”. My panties retouch my lips but this time the rubber of a ball gag is pushing them in while her thumbnail is raking up my left nipple then giving it a long slow twist as if it’s a stubborn doorknob. “Oww! Okay!” I begin to cry out, only to accept both my panties and ball gag for the trouble.

Darla is sliding in on top of my left leg and I feel a bare leg against my chest and back. We usually do this position when sharing a double dildo and sure enough I feel the pressure as one slips into my very exited pussy. Our heads apart and pussy to pussy we or rather she rocks back and forth gliding the dildo in and out the both of us. The breathing through my nose is rising as the wave building inside me continues and I revel in just how truly pleasant this feels. Normally we reach down and hold hands to pull and push ourselves along but with my legs tied she is holding onto my right ankle softly moaning to herself. Suddenly a fingernails lightly trace down the ball of my foot. “Mmmh” I scream in the gag. “Oh you bitch“, I want to yell at her. More tickling interspaced with long digging into my arch. I try kicking away, but while there’s some slack, she’s unrelenting not even pausing my torment to orgasm. Darla’s bucking shudder only causes her to dig into my poor foot tighter using both hands. Oh I’m right on edge too if she’d only let up!

She suddenly stops and with a sigh pulls away taking the dildo out of me. Mewling through the gag and bucking my hips gets me nowhere. Then my feet are loose and it feels good to finally stretch flat. Not for long as she sits abruptly atop me, awakening an urgency in my bladder. So too the gag is popped out along with my panties. I feel her sliding towards me and sigh as the bladder pressure is lessened. My tongue is ready to receive her and she rides me properly. I know Darla well, and I’m prepared when her tension builds and she bucks and slides across my nose momentarily suffocating me.

Gasping together she then falls away and lies down next to me, quiet, just breathing. One arm across me plays idly with my still exited right nipple. “Darla?”, no answer and I dare not push it. Too late as she laughingly whispers, “You know for someone in your position shouldn’t you be calling me Mistress?”

“Yes, Mistress”, smiling as I reply. The mask is unbuckled and falls away and I see her pretty backside walk into the bathroom. Damn, I don’t want to call out and be considered disobedient but the bathroom is also very much on my mind now too. She finishes and slowly dresses, putting my toys back into the hope chest and starts to leave.

“Um”, I take a risk in saying.

“What, do you need something?”

I raise my wrists, still captured in the green cable, “if my Mistress would be so kind…”

“I don’t know what you want of me, Phoebe I didn’t put you in that… I‘ll be back later.”

I sigh, “fine, look I’m really sorry for not telling you. Release me and I’ll wash your stupid car.” her eyes narrow. “Ok, I’ll wash it every Saturday for a month”, I quickly say.

“And you’ll wear a bikini while you wash it?”

“Oh come on Darla then I’ll get stared at. Can I at least wear shorts?”

“Perhaps, but I don’t care who else looks. I’ll be looking, I plan to read the morning paper sitting in the patio and enjoy you.”

“Deal“. I sigh and wave my wrists impatiently. She comes around and slides a leg over my upper chest as she works above the headboard and reaches down to my awaiting hands.

Darla’s inner thigh is right in my face and I can’t resist a lick. Getting no response other than her telling me to try and push my wrists closer together, I think, “Gee, no shit. You know I never thought of doing that before.”

Someday, oh someday I hope to be able to understand the brainless things I do:

I bite the inside of her thigh. Hard. Really, really hard.

“OWW! OUCH! You Stupid Bitch! Ow! Shit, I think you drew blood!” I hear her say now from the bathroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! Ow, I need ice”, she cries exiting to the kitchen. And once again, I’m stuck alone in my room.

“Darla. Um, Mistress? are you there? please I really gotta go…”
“Fuck you, Phoebe I hope you piss all over yourself”, she calls out from the den.
“Mistress, please I’m sorry.” though the memory of what I’d just done gives me the sillies and I start to quietly laugh until pangs from my bladder end it.

“Mistress I‘ll wash your nice car for a whole year. Naked even”. Frankly I’m not kidding as time is running out.

She appears and I try hard to suppress a smile.

“You know if you really were my slave I’d horsewhip the shit out of you every day.”

I give her a scolded puppy look, “Oh Darla, I knew you still loved me.” Raising my hands and she comes over only to rake her right hand across my belly.

“Ohh”, gasping I squirm away.

“I should sit on you.”

“Please no, you win I’ll do anything you want.”

Warily she leans over me but I’m done playing and just close my eyes.

“Rescue me, please...”

Finally Darla pries the cable from my wrist. Ahh!

Smiling harshly at me she says, “I can’t think of any punishment even remotely suitable right now, but you owe me bitch.”

As I dash off to the bathroom I can’t wait to find out just what I owe.