Jeanette and Terry

By Jeb

Jeanette sighed. Her chin rested on her hands, and she did her best to at least occasionally glance down at the turgid report that lay nearly an inch thick on the polished mahogany table in front of her. That would have been hard enough anyway, the report being so dull. What made it nearly impossible now was the presenter: today, the inevitable scribbling on the ubiquitous flip charts was not being done by that cretin Daniel from Marketing, but by the newest member of the team, Terry Manley, and Jeanette was in heaven.

Black marking pen flew across the vast sheets of paper, but Jeanette had no idea what the words said; she could only follow Terry's fingers as they wielding the marker. Terry's head dipped as a page turned, and firm shoulder muscles pulled at the stiff white shirt, with a sinuous motion that made Jeanette's loins ache.

Terry. Terry. Terry Terry. Terryterryterryterryterryterryterry.

Jeanette wished she were at home, alone, so she could take hold of herself and allow her visions to consume her: Terry and Jeanette, romping nude in the surf; Terry and Jeanette wrapped around each other in an oaken hot tub; Terry running strong fingers through Jeanette's golden hair; and... some other pictures that Jeanette could scarcely dare to imagine; images so deliciously wicked that it was several minutes before it struck Jeanette that she had never before fantasized having sex with another woman.

Oh, she'd fooled around with girlfriends once or twice when she was younger, but all her ' relationships' had been with men. Sh'de even done a little bondage experimentation with them, but this was different. This was... Terry.

Terry had come to Jeanette's company as a junior account executive just a few months ago. Since Jeanette was the firm's only female Vice-President, it had seemed natural to pair the two of them, but the first time Terry reported to her new boss, Jeanette's ideas of what was ' natural' began to take a very different tack.

Just for starters, her new Junior Account Executive was stunningly beautiful: dark brown eyes set in a determined face; silky dark hair worn loose and long; lithe muscles practically laughing at her clothes' attempts to hide her luscious figure. She seemed to be everything Jeanette could have wanted in a lover: bright, funny, competent, and unbearably sexy.

For the first few weeks, Jeanette had nearly burst with the effort of keeping their relationship 'strictly professional' . She had imagined it would get easier, but it didn't: more and more, she found herself staring at Terry every chance she got, watching as she tossed glossy hair back from her face, and practically tasting the soft red lips that would purse fetchingly as the two discussed an especially vexing problem.

At night, Jeanette often found herself unable to do anything but go home and masturbate to visions of herself and Terry as perfect, intense lesbian lovers. And this just couldn't go on. Jeanette had never imagined making a sexual advance to another woman, but the time had come for her to quit dreaming or go mad. She would just have to work up the courage to ask Terry... to ask her... and then it hit her.

It was suddenly clear what it was that she needed, and she also knew, somehow, that Terry needed the same thing. The path was much clearer now, but there was still so much to do; so much to prepare.

First stop: the hardware store.


Jeanette was amazed at just how many different things you could use to tie a person up. There was cotton clothesline, of course, in differing degrees of flexibility; she'd expected that. But as she went down the aisle of the huge store, she was struck with just how many different kinds of tying-up people seemed to want to do. Besides clothesline, you could buy rope, hemp, or cord specifically designed for tying boats, trailers, parcels... and how many people before her had walked this aisle, wondering just which of these would be best for restraining a woman?

Amid all the choices, one caught her eye: it was a thick, supple nylon blend that felt nearly soft as silk, but was pictured on the wrapper as being used for boat anchors, so it stood to reason that it would be quite strong, and... inescapable. She pictured the soft white braid pulled hard against tender skin. The thinner version would probably be the most secure, but there was a certain elegance in the thicker, wider cord: it almost suggested a highly restrictive trim on an evening gown.

I'm so transparent, she thought as the bored young woman rang up her purchase. Surely, no one here imagines that I plan to use this to tie up a boat? Oh, of course, Jeanette knew that, for the most part, no one here was thinking about her at all, but she couldn't help feeling that every patron here was whispering to their companion about the strange blonde who was evidently planning some heavyduty rope work. Maybe they think I'm some kind of terrorist planning an abduction, she giggled to herself. The feelings were so pervasive that she had to go to another store to buy the roll of duct tape: tape and rope together were just too obvious, weren't they?

Her next stop was more colorful: the giant PetMania store appeared to Jeanette as a sort of temple of restriction. Fully half the merchandise in the store seemed to have the primary purpose of preventing motion from point A to point B. Collars, cuffs, chains... and not simply the blacks and browns she remembered from childhood; the colors were a dizzying rainbow of restraint.

Jeanette began to feel positively light-headed, as pictures came to her of a soft white neck encircled by a collar that glittered with rhinestones, or slender wrists straining to free themselves from that multi-colored nylon collar that would cinch 'just right' around them.

She looked with a guilty thrill at the other shoppers, as though they could see right through her. Well, she thought, for all they know, I just might have dogs and cats of several different sizes, as she made her choices of those items that seemed best suited to the binding of wrists, ankles, arms, and legs. A fine leather leash and collar completed the set: of course, she knew that you could buy such things from an 'adult' store, but she suspected that the humiliation factor would be that much more enhanced if the collar were one designed for an animal.

As for the rest of the store, well... maybe it was just the frame of mind she was in, but it seemed to Jeanette as though half of the other items in the place consisted of rubber things for putting in the mouth. Imitation dog bones, hmmm... or what about one of those rubber steaks? In the end, though, she settled on some soft rubber balls of different sizes; she imagined that the same mouth could accommodate a variety of sizes, depending on just how much silencing was desired, or how much punishment was to be inflicted.

Macy's was next. Though Jeanette had read stories where the authors carefully detailed which designer name brands adorned the scarves packing a captive's mouth, it seemed wasteful to spend top dollar on silk scarves that she intended would soon be dampened with various bodily fluids. The house brands provided her with a nice assortment of colors, and the texture was nearly that of the designer labels. Once tied tightly in the mouth or around wrists or ankles, it would probably feel a good deal less elegant, anyway.

She 'wrapped things up' (Did I really say that?, she giggled to herself) by picking up a good first aid kit: more tape (in different sizes, and probably better-designed for application to skin), along with a large elastic bandage. After all, scarves are kind of slippery, she thought. What if they don't hold packing inside the mouth very well? Best be ready to experiment with different approaches...

Once at home, she stashed the purchases in her bedroom, and made herself fix dinner and relax. Think about this, she urged herself. Take a deep breath, and make certain that you know what you're doing.

After eating, she took a few more sips of wine, closed her eyes, and leaned back in the chair. In just a moment, though, she was up out of the chair, and dashing for the bedroom. Screw caution, screw thinking it over...let's get started!!

Bound and gagged.

Jeanette was beginning to savor the phrase.

She looked at the colorful assortment spread across her bed: collars, leashes, scarves, ropes, bandages, tape. How mundane they all looked, how ordinary-- and how sensual, how positively kinky they were about to become.

But, of course, she told herself, there's still one very big step left to take.

Jeanette bit her lip, and fell back against the pillow, writhing in frustration. She sighed,
surveying the assorted restraints.

OK, Jeanette, now for the tricky part.

She closed her eyes, and let the pictures run through her mind one more time.

Now, Terry-- how on earth am I going to get you to tie me up?


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