Author's Note: First real foray into kink writing for years. Any feedback greatly appreciated!


It was late in the day by the time I had arrived at Eve's home. Bathed in orange glow of sunset, the white walls of her term-time residence didn't look too enticing. Squashed between two older homes like a train commuter in rush-hour, the one person home looked lonely.

The voicemail I received was brief. I couldn't really hear most of it in the rumble of coffee shop atmosphere, but Eve sounded breathy. "Come to my place. I've got a surprise for you."

I rapped on the weathered door, idly looking at a potted plant that had crept out and hung over its terracotta holdings. Probably left over from the last owner. Clunks reveal Eve, peeking through the gap playfully.

She was beautiful, and I would have given anything to sleep with her. Bobbed hair, shaven at the back sat prettily on her heart shaped face. More dishevelled than usual, flecking her forehead erratically. Her eyes were sharp and demure, wing-tipped with an unsurprisingly lack of care. An old woollen jumper's sleeve sat between her lips, stretching from her smiling bite. I wanted her badly, even on a lazy day like this.

"Busy night last night?" I joked, moving past her into the cramped hallway. My hip touched hers as I passed into the living room. Curtains still drawn, an old cup of tea leaving various rings on dog-eared uni work.

She laughed briefly. "Fuck you." I plopped down in a hard armchair, slinging my rucksack down. I never felt as cool as Eve, so any joke that didn't fall flat was a victory for me.

"Tea?" She half shouted, turning away from me and leaving the room. I spotted her old shorts hiking up her perfect, round bum.

"Yeah, thanks!" I respond. I'm left to errantly search the room. Posters from great bands way older than the two of us. Course books that look like they'd never been opened. A pair of handcuffs on the table. An empty vase.

A pair of handcuffs on the table.

I frowned, picking them up with two fingers. The second cuff dangles, not rocking- there's a surprising firmness to the connecting middle. Usually I'd seen handcuffs with a chain; like in cop shows.

There were surprisingly thick.

Eve sauntered back in, placing two cups quickly onto the table. I was still holding the handcuffs with an unsettling curiosity. We made eye contact, and for the briefest of moments I felt my stomach flutter.

"What are these doing here?!" My voice turned high pitch at the end as I can't help but giggle. "I guess it really was a busy night last night!"

I was expecting at least some shock, but Eve jumped into a recline on the sofa opposite, taking her phone out.

"Social last night, remember? Cops and robbers." Her thumb lazily scrolled, before she threw the phone towards me. In a fluster I caught it.

In the dark of a smoky nightclub Eve was posed in a variety of photos. Wearing a navy blue dress that hugged her figure, skinny legs jutting out. The handcuffs from beforehand at her side. Jesus Christ, she was stunning.

Looking through myself, I saw her laughing, a series of snaps entailing her grabbing her friend and putting the cuffs on her. The two grin playfully as Eve grabs her arm and leans in for a kiss on the cheek. I wanted desperately to be the other girl.

I journeyed back to the top of the album- Hockey Social 13/02/16 and felt both jealousy and shame.

Eve's face went solemn as I placed her phone on the table.

"Hey, I know you must feel a bit left out after what happened last week at practice..." She started, before I meekly interjected.

"I-I don't care. It's fine, really." I flashed a weak smile and couldn't even fool myself into thinking it earnest.

"It was really fucked up that they'd post the pictures online."

I slumped into my armchair, withdrawing. My eyes fixated on a carpet stain as I felt my face burn.

Those images were still burnt into my head. Bending down on the tiled floor of a changing room, one hand pressed against my sex. My head fully encased in dirty pantyhose, details hidden by layers of black nylon. I'd been benched in the hockey game, and decided to go back into the changing rooms. The pile of dirty hosiery was just too enticing; one sniff lead to another, and before I knew it I was teasing out an orgasm.

I don't know who took the picture. There was shock, laughter and a stampede of girls rushing out of the room. I could remember the complete shame and worry for hours afterwards, exploding into the worst case scenario when they were plastered all over social media.

"I'm not sure what went on but we're still really good friends." Eve spoke in such a way that it sounded like she was proving it to herself, hands cupped over her mug like protection.

I fiddled with the handcuffs in my hand erratically, looking up at the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but her eyes. My face reddened and felt like a furnace.

"I don't want to talk about it. Really, it's alright." Hands still tracing over cold steel, turning in my hands.

"I think we should, Jen." Peripheral vision told me Eve was staring -boring, more like- as she blew on her tea. I flashed a look her way, perfect lips puckering as they repelled hazy smoke.

"T-there's nothing to really say, I-" Click. My wild fiddling stops as I felt the weight of metal on my wrists. With a tug I tried to get them off to no avail. This wasn't helping such a delicate situation.

"How are these so sturdy? They don't mess around with costume props anymore, do they?"

Eve put down her mug. "You're changing the subject."

"Eve, can this not wait?"

She pressed on. "Dirty laundry, does that turn you on?"

I frowned at her, stretching out my restricted arms. "Can you get these off please?"

She shrugged, nylon-clad feet dangling off the sofa's arm. "Only if you tell me."

I let too much time pass before I opened my mouth.

"I ...I just wanted to see if I did."

Eve paused, and I thought her questioning had ended. "And did you?"

I bit my lip and gave a frail nod.

"Right." I couldn't place her tone as she looked towards the door, strumming hair out of her eyes. "Come upstairs with me, I'll get the keys."

She sprang up, and I heard her stamping up the stairs. With a lurch I followed, hands uncomfortably in front of me. Up fuzzy stairs I went, trying to grab the hand rail with difficulty.

Eve had a handle on her closed bedroom door before turning around to face me. I wandered down the short lobby and she had a coy smile on her face.

"I felt bad about the whole thing, so I've got you a Valentines' day surprise. We're going to play something."

I wearily sighed as her features flashed happily. "Eve, please just get these cuffs off me."

She laughed teasingly. "Only if you win."

"Ugh, what do I have to do?" I really wasn't in the mood, surprisingly.

She looked like she was steeling herself to answer. "I know which girl at the match took the picture of you, and they're in my bedroom. You guess who it is and you win! I'll take those cuffs off you. "

I backed off with caution, looking at Eve warily. What was she planning? I didn't want to know which of my friends had betrayed me like that.

"You're scaring me. Eve..."

She scratched her nose non-nonchalantly. "Leave, but I'm not taking those cuffs off unless you play." She moved towards me, taking hold of both of my hands. I felt my stomach flutter again as I saw an earnest smile.

"Please, Jen. This will be good for you."

I looked down, briefly nodding. "And what if I lose your game?"

Her hand felt the door handle again. "If you lose, you're going to be put into the same situation as the culprit!"

She theatrically opened the door and my jaw dropped.

A figure covered almost head to toe in nude nylon writhed softly. She was lashed with tight pantyhose to a large mirror. Across her limbs, nylon webs kept her rigid like a mummy. Her arms weren't visible, and I assumed tied behind her. Her head was layered extensively in pantyhose, wrapped, stretched over. There was a noticeable, cruel bulge from her mouth- something had been stuffed in. The flap of a thick, dirty sock hang over where her nose was, held in place by beige bandage. Her pert breasts were the only thing on display, thick clothes pegs callously stretched across her nipples, stretching them out like balloons.

As she heard voices the figure moaned incoherently. The muffle of material in her mouth kept her whine as something primitive. Eve leaned against the mirror and the figure shuffled, slightly rocking the structure. The hosiery that wound around her her to the mirror meant her struggles barely made any impact.

I was speechless. Eve smirked, fist cupped in her other hand.

"Payback! I don't really get what the deal is with your fetish, but what this -mystery culprit- did was out of order. Why not give them a some punishment? They might even like it!"

"W-what have you done to them?" I exasperatedly said, recoiling as the victim groaned.

Eve energetically smiled, grabbing their cheeks and squashing with a vice-like hand, being met with the sounds of a stuffed mouth.

"Every day this week I went to the gym wearing some of these bad boys." She pinched a layer of the hood, letting it snap back into place. "They've got to really smell!"

With the flourish of a magician explaining her trick, she pressed on cruelly. "We have a pair of old knickers crammed into her mouth. It took a lot of crying but I managed to get some stinky socks in there for her to chew too. Then came all of those sweaty tights...there was a lot of protest but I think she started to enjoy it, because she's barely made a peep in the last hour!"

I started to interject, but she held a hand up.

"Finally, we've got a thick woolen sock pressed up on her nostrils. That was drenched in sweat last I checked. That's probably been absorbed a bit by her nose now."

I froze. My ears were boiling, and my heart pounded against my rib-cage. With shame I could feel my nipples hardening against my bra.

"Don't worry. I took some pretty compromising facial pics. She goes to anyone and these are getting uploaded all over facebook! So, take your guess. I'm giving you thirty seconds! Remember, if you're wrong...well, I've still left the smelliest, sweatiest pantyhose ready for your pervy face!"

I gulped hard. The victim's face was completely shrouded in tight nylon. I had a one in nine chance of guessing, those odds were not in my favour. One wrong name and I was about to get mummified in my best friend's dirty pantyhose. As I looked on Eve's eager face, I slowly realised...perhaps we both wanted it that way.