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PART II
Some of the other guests were noticing and
smiling. I could feel myself turning beet-red with embarrassment. “Okay,
Steve, very funny. Let me go!” I squirmed, but didn’t have the slack to
get free.
“Okay, but on one condition. You give me
a slow dance.”
What could I do? I was aware that my being
tied up this way was attracting attention. I wriggled some more to try
and get free, as a few people smiled and pointed in my direction. “Okay,”
I sighed. “You win.”
After he untied me, Steve led me into the
middle of the room and we danced with the other guests. Throughout the
dance, he held me close. His hand, which was on my waist, started to slide
down to my hip. I took hold of it and put it back to my waist. Something
was going to have to be done about this. He said, “Looking real sexy, this
evenin’, Lisa. French Maid, huh? Me and my buddies are havin’ a party next
month to celebrate our victory.” Steve played football, and his team won
the championship, as he was fond of telling anyone who would listen. “We
could sure use a French Maid to serve drinks and keep the guests happy.”
My mouth opened with astonishment. This was
outrageous! If Steve thought that I would be his personal servant at his
party dressed like this, he had something else coming. But there was a
plan formulating in my mind . . .
“So this victory party of yours,” I started,
trying to make conversation, “It’s going to be quite the event?” We were
still gyrating slowly around the floor, Steve holding me close.
“Yeah. It’s our victory. We’re serving beer,
wine. You name it. All the foot you can eat. We could sure use someone
like you to help out. The guys would sure like it if you came as you are.”
I was aware that Steve was surreptitiously
looking at my cleavage as we danced. “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat,”
I suggested. I was anxious to put a little distance between the two of
us. He was holding me a little too close.
“Sure. Sounds good to me.” Steve gestured
towards a couch. “Grab a seat. I’ll bring us something over.”
As he veered over to the snack table, I went
over to the couch and sat down, glad for the break. The other guests seemed
to be having a good time. The costumes and decorations were making for
quite an event. I was wondering if coming single to this party was such
a good idea. Most of the other guests had come with dates. I guess Kelly
had wanted me to come dressed as a French Maid because she thought that
I was too square and needed to flaunt myself a bit more. The truth is,
I didn’t go out too much. I was just as content with a good book and a
glass of wine, as I was with a night on the town. I did date occasionally,
but being the shy type, I wasn’t asked out too often. I hadn’t had too
many boyfriends. I relaxed, sat back, and crossed my legs, self-consciously
pulling down at the hem of my skirt so that too much leg wasn’t showing.
Suddenly, Steve re-appeared with two drinks
and some snacks. He sat down beside me, and handed me a glass of wine.
I could see him glancing down at my legs. “Quite a party Kelly has thrown,
hasn’t she?”
“Yes, it’s turned out to be quite the event.
She throws a party like this every year, but I think that this is the best
one so far.” I thought for a moment. “So this party of yours that you’re
having, it’s going to be great also?”
“Better believe it, toots, that’s why I want
you to come.”
“I see.” The plan that I had been turning
over was starting to come into focus. “You know, it’s getting pretty stuffy
in here. Why don’t we step out for a breath of fresh air and talk about
it?”
A smile slowly spread across Steve’s face.
I guess he thought he was getting somewhere with me. First base, perhaps.
“Sounds great to me. We’ll go for a little walk.”
We got up and walked out to the front hallway
and out the front door. There, several couples stood milling around on
the veranda, talking, or sipping drinks, or wandering around the property.
Steve and I walked down the front steps. The air was cool, but not uncomfortable.
The breeze made a distant hissing sound as it blew through the cornfield.
The full moon cast our shadows as we walked. Several hundred feet behind
the homestead, the barn loomed. In the moonlit darkness, it was an imposing,
spooky presence. The barn doors were closed and locked with a length of
chain and padlock. However, there was a regular doorway to one side, intended
for people use.
“Steve, about this party of yours. I was
just thinking, it sounds pretty exciting. When are you having it?” We were
stood by the door to the barn. It wasn’t locked, and stood slightly ajar.
“There’s a bit of a cool breeze picking up. Why don’t we step into the
barn and talk about it?”
Steve lit up at this. A smile slowly spread
across his face. “Now your talking, toots. After you.” He made a gesture
for me to enter first. I stepped over the threshold and into darkness.
Steve followed suit. Feeling around, I located the open-wire light switch
I knew to be there, and suddenly the inside was bathed in a soft light.
There were a couple of light bulbs illuminating the barn. The barn had
several stalls for horses. They were empty at the moment. Kelly’s parents
raised horses for show, and they were currently at a contest. A small tractor
was parked to one side, waiting in preparation for the cornfield harvesting.
Several bails of hay lay strewn around. There were a number of tools, including
a scythe and a pitchfork hung on the barn walls. There were also several
coils of rope. Perfect. I think.
“So, Steve, I was thinking.” I was really
nervous at this point, but determined not to show it. “I’ll come to your
party. However, there is just one condition . . .”
“And what would that be?” He stood before
me, looking down and leering.
Okay, here goes nothing. I took a deep breath.
“ Remember when I said I would dance with you if you untied me from the
banister, earlier on?” Lisa, girl, what are you doing? “ Well, I’ll come
to your party if you let me tie you up, this time. If you can escape in
an hour, I’ll come.” There. I said it.
Steve stood looking at me. I didn’t know
if he would laugh, or what. “Gee, I don’t know if I can trust you.” Either
way, I guessed he was trembling with excitement and could taste copper
in his mouth, at this point. After all, I was dressed as a French Maid.
“Well, then, maybe I shouldn’t come to the
party . . .” I turned and started to leave.
“Okay, okay. Here, tie me up!” He reached
for the lasso he had on his gun-belt and handed it to me. Shaking out the
coils, I walked behind him and crossed his hands behind his back. Now,
dear readers, there is something you must understand at this point. We
girls are experts at bondage. Like many young girls, I had several years
of babysitting experience, and whether you do the tying, or are the one
tied, you learn how to tie someone up so that there is no chance of escape.
Steve was about to find this out.
I made numerous diagonal loops around his
wrists, continually pulling it tighter. With the remaining couple of feet,
I cinched the rope between the coils and his wrists and tied the final
knot, making sure it couldn’t be reached. So far so good. Steve tugged
experimentally at his restraints. “Not bad, pretty lady,” he laughed.
“Relax, cowboy, I’m not finished yet.” I
left him stood there, while I got some of the ropes that were hung up with
the tools. I was starting to relax and really enjoy this. Taking one of
the coils of rope, I wrapped it around Steve’s body, pulling his arms firmly
against his body until there was no slack whatsoever. I finished off by
cinching the remaining rope between his arms and torso so there was no
chance of the ropes slipping up or down. “Okay, let’s get you laid down.”
He looked at me questioningly. I helped him
down to the ground and then rolled him so that he was face down on his
stomach. Taking another length of rope, I tied his legs together just above
the knees, cinching it, then I tied his ankles together the same way. I
took the final length of rope, tied it to his ankles and then drew then
back. I then finished by tying the remainder to his wrists. Steve was now
in a very effective, utterly inescapable hog-tie. I had him where I wanted
him.
“Not bad, toots,” he laughed, but there was
a cloud of doubt on his face. He tugged at the ropes.
“Okay, cowboy, you have an hour to get free.
If you manage to escape, I’ll come as I am now to your party. If not, the
deals off. Got it?” For the first time that evening, I felt safe. I sat
on a bale of hay with my legs crossed, not bothering to pull down at my
hemline, giving Steve a good look at my gams.
Steve started his escape attempt. He pulled
hard at the ropes binding his wrists, and then tried to move his arms up
and down. The only thing he managed to do was to rock back and forth slightly.
Slowly, the supercilious grin started to fade. Dear readers, if could have
seen the look on his face as he realized he couldn’t untie himself. It
was priceless. I could feel myself grinning broadly.
“Something the matter, Steve?” I purred smugly.
“Got nowhere to go? Poor baby.”
Steve was struggling desperately now. I think
he realized that he wasn’t going to get free, and that I wouldn’t be coming
to his party. His face was red from the exertion of trying to get loose,
and he was sweating slightly, despite the cool autumn temperature. I could
see him trying to look around, attempting to see his hands. His fingers
were twisting back, desperately trying to find a knot, or a loose coil
of rope. It wasn’t going to happen. Finally, the hour was up. Steve lay
still, completely exhausted.
“Okay, Lisa,” he looked up resignedly. Lisa,
not toots. “You win. I guess you can untie me now.” He wriggled a bit against
the ropes for emphasis.
Smiling, I said, “Untie you? I never said
I would untie you.”
A look of astonishment crossed Steve’s face.
“Wait a minute. You said . . .”
“I said that if you freed yourself, I would
come to your party. Who said anything about being untied?” I was thoroughly
enjoying myself now. I may have been the shy, girl-next-door type, but
now I had the power. I grinned at Steve, rubbing it in that he couldn’t
get free.
“Aw, c’mon Lisa. We’re missing the party.”
He strained mightily against his bonds.
“You’re going to miss the party. I, on the
other hand, am going back to the party, where I intend to enjoy the rest
of the evening. You can stay tied up and think about how you harassed me
all evening.”
John Wayne was gone now. He was just some
guy helplessly tied up. “Please, Lisa. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything!
Lisa, please. Miss Bauman. Ma’am.”
“You’ve done enough.” ‘Ma’am’? Just for that,
he would stay tied up even longer. I started to get up and move toward
the door. “Say another word, and I’ll gag you!” With that, I headed towards
the door, gently swaying my hips as I walked, giving Steve a good look
at what he couldn’t have. Kelly wouldn’t think I was too square after I
told her what I had done to Steve when I got back to the party. We would
come back after the party was over and teach him a lesson, and perhaps
some respect for women. But that would have to be another tale. I glanced
back. He was struggling hard. I smiled, waved goodbye, turned out the lights,
closed the door, and left him there in the darkness . . .
Well, dear readers. That’s my story. The
candle has almost burned out, and it’s getting late now. I hope you enjoyed
my tale. I had so much fun that Halloween evening. There is another party
coming up, and I plan on going again as a French Maid. I got the idea to
write this story when I came across my costume while rummaging through
my closet. In fact, I wore the costume while writing this story, to put
me in the festive Halloween mood. Happy Halloween!
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