Author's Note: She made the mistake of trusting someone. Now it's too late to change her mind. She is has become dominated and dependent on a person who takes over her life and liberty.


I keep saying to myself that all I need to do is to stay calm and I'll be all right. Someone will come to get me soon. Can you believe this? I'm a prisoner in my own house, caught in a trap of her making and my complicity. A game I was drawn into that has gone seriously wrong. I feel that I can't trust anyone again. I shift on the bed to get comfortable. It's another vain hope; she has used specialist equipment to restrain me.

So how did it happen, this 'situation'? I needed a lodger and she answered the advertisement. The bills were mounting. She was older then me but not by much, early thirties I guessed. When she came round to see the room we clicked immediately. There was no decision to make and she moved in the Saturday of that week. I didn't bother asking for references, no need, I thought, I had known her all my life. Well, I should have done, but it's too late now.

That first weekend we stayed up until 3 on Sunday morning getting to know each other over a bottle (or two) of wine. Confidences were shared and we giggled like secretive schoolgirls. I went to bed happy at the thought of having found a new friend. She stayed in her room most of the next day and when she came out, we hardly exchanged a word. Come late afternoon we started talking again, she opened the conversation. We talked about sex and what we wanted from it, about men and our experiences (not good for both of us). She was remarkably candid and I thought it was appropriate to be the same. Two women closing in on a relationship that was to change everything.

Later on we found each other in the kitchen, close. The kiss came after the tense moment of uncertainty, tentative and then full on, both of us taken away, for the moment, in the throws of pleasure, then a breathy separation and then - embarrassment. I looked at the floor while she caressed my neck with her kisses. What could I say? It wasn't supposed to happen like this. God made us to react to a male embrace not female, not that I am religious, it just felt wrong, but so good. I turned my head away and moved back stopping as I reached the kitchen units. To my surprise she followed me and we kissed again, this time she forced my body to arch backwards and ground her hips against mine. Wet was not the word for it, I moulded myself to her. My body was getting ready for lesbian sex and my mind was helpless to prevent it.

I don't remember how it happened but I snapped to my senses spread eagle on my bed, naked. Limbs tied and mouth stuffed with a scarf. Maybe she had drugged me in some way. She was stroking my hair and looking into my eyes. "Stay." She whispered and all the struggle and indignation went out of me like a bath draining away. She teased, tickled, licked and sucked me late into the night. I cannot remember the number of orgasms she made me have. I was helpless to stop her and yet, I thought, in control. If she did something that I didn't react to, she would change tack. Forcing the last ounce from a body that had already given everything. After a while I realised I could scream and no one would hear me.

Afterwards she just walked out of the room turning the light off and leaving me there. I lay there quiet at first, not able to believe what I had experienced and then started to struggle to get free. Panic rose in me and I threw my body against the bonds holding me firm. The exertion exhausted me and my body was covered in sweat. When I calmed down I got a bit of sleep.

She must have cut me loose in the middle of the night. I woke up and my limbs were free although the cords were still hanging on them. When we met at breakfast. It was obvious that the night was not to be a topic of conversation. I was bursting but she asked me if I wanted some corn flakes! Quite simply, I was hooked and I wanted more. Being bound by her just made the experience sharper. At work, I couldn't concentrate and came home early.

Our paths didn't cross for the next few days due to our varying commitments. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life, losing my lesbian virginity, and it seemed the other woman couldn't be bothered help me understand what had occurred. I was full of questions and doubts, why had I done it, why hadn't I resisted being tied up by her. I called her and asked her to talk to me. She said "all in good time." It seemed as though she was controlling me remotely.

The next Friday evening she came to me again, this time a length of rope in her hand. Her intentions were clear. Despite all the promises to myself about not letting it happen, when she looked, I melted just like the first time. We kissed the kiss of lovers in the first throws, passionate and breathless. She broke off to tie my wrists behind me, occasionally slipping her had down my panties to caress my clitoris. When we reached my bedroom she took one of my silk scarves and blindfolded me tightly. Then she tied me securely, ankles, knees and elbows. After that I was hers. Words are not enough to describe the explosions in my body as she carefully brought me to the apex of pleasure. At one moment I begged her to gag me so that I could scream and release myself fully to her. She pushed a rubber ball in my mouth and tied it on with a strap thing. After the sex she left me, still tied the whole night. On Saturday afternoon, I think, she went shopping or something. I didn't hear her in the house for what seemed like hours. Before she went out she tied my wrists to my ankles. I couldn't move an inch on the bed and I was scared that I might fall off and hurt myself so I lay very still. When she came back the teasing started again. She released me on Sunday evening. I was drained mentally and physically but curious as hell to find out what was happening to me. All my efforts, however, to talk to her about what was going on were met with calculated indifference. By the time the next weekend came I was almost begging her to tie me up.

Friday evening I was furtively staring at her while she was watching the television, waiting for her to move on me. Nothing happened and I went to bed with pent up sexual frustration and deep curiosity. Until Saturday afternoon she just got on with her chores and left me stewing. Then, she came up to me, cupped my head in her hands and kissed me - hard. Our lips parted but a string of saliva momentarily connected us. "Are you ready". She said, and I cast my eyes to the floor and whispered "yes". "Now the game begins". She produced my scarf again and blindfolded me. I felt her put my wrists together behind me and then a long sheath-like leather thing slid up my arms. With a fussy, mother hen manner she did up the straps until my arms were fused. The ball was used again on me and I was led to a bedroom where my clothes were cut off me, one by one, slowly until I was naked. Then, I was chained in some way to the bed, my legs tied together with straps. She left me there. I heard her downstairs on the phone, making arrangements. A little later I dozed.

Its days since she tied me like this; it must be Thursday by my calculation. For a while there was no sex but later she made up for it and it was all the more intense for the sensory deprivation. I think I get two meals a day (I get two meals but when, I don't know). I pleaded with her once and she stopped feeding me, putting the gag back in and leaving me. She came back later and plugged my ears and both my private places. I have had panic attacks but fewer now. I can't see or touch anything; the leather thing glues my arms behind me. I can't hear. What about work, my friends, family? I can't speak. What was she doing on the 'phone? She must have told them something because no one has come looking for me.

I am hers. She now pleasures me at will. When she comes to me I promise myself that, as a captive, I will be resistant to all her tricks. I, of course, succumb in a few seconds. She uses vibrators to turn me into a mass of sweating humanity screaming my silent screams for more. She is expert at finding my sweet spots. In my dark world, my whole body seems as though it is one sensitised mass. She touches me, strokes me, licks me and I can't resist. I don't know what she will do next and to which part of me. I am in heaven during those moments when she ministers to me and long for her in between.

Recently she made me masturbate a man. How he got into my house and who he was I have no idea. I think he was tied to my old bed like I was at the beginning; she unbuckled my gag and guided my head towards the right spot. I could feel him struggling until I put my mouth around him and then he just rocked rhythmically until he exploded in an ocean of semen. I swallowed what I could and licked him clean. I did my best for him, its what she wanted. Afterwards, she gagged me again and took me back to my bed. Later the man was put with me, tied, like me, and gagged. We spent hours together, trying to unite our bodies, squirming like worms, slimy with the sweat of the effort and the saliva from our gags, but it was no use, his organ brushed my lips time after time but he got no further. I was so desperate for him that I sobbed until my blindfold was soaked. He was taken away from me later; I expect that she used him for herself. When he was gone I stewed in my frustration, I wanted him so much, until the next time she came for me.

Sometimes I think I can hear music from downstairs. It's her house now. I am just her prisoner, her sex toy. Most of the time she's out or at work. That's when I cry the lonely tears of the kidnap victim. The fact that I cannot see, hear or speak is no longer important. She makes me come and I long for the moments of passion in between the dark hours. Sex has no humanity any more; it's a means to control me. I am the ultimate victim, pliant, dependent and, above all, no one knows I am even missing.