Kim Tapes: A Collection Of Great Bondage Misadventures (F)

[lanadelgagged]

Blonde, well-meaning but ridiculously unlucky with an uncanny knack for stumbling into perilous situations. At least that's how her closest friends and colleagues describe the life and hijinks of Kimberly Tapes. Whether due to mistaken identity, misunderstandings, or sheer bad luck, Kimberly never actively seeks trouble—it just seems magnetically drawn to her.

From yachts and cruise ships to lifeguard towers, hotels, and casinos, her misadventures take her across a wide variety of settings where she encounters eccentric criminals, overzealous kidnappers, and well-meaning buffoons who somehow always end up restraining her for all the wrong reasons. Wherever life takes her, it's damsel-in-distress ga(g)lore...


1. Starry Night

2. Do-It-Yourself

3. The Burglar

4. Videotaped

5. The Courier

[lanadelgagged]

1. Starry Night

Any given summer night, down the treacherous mountain roads...

Bumpy roads generally lead to beautiful places, or at least so does Kimberly believe as the twists and turns rattle the old vehicle. She can almost feel every crack, every wound on the tarmac. The vehicle is by no means struggling, despite the steep climbs left behind and those that remain ahead. The sound of the engine and the rattling of the old chassis serve as a film score of sorts to an otherwise quiet night. Kimberly is shrouded in darkness, placed with her back against the wall inside the trunk. Where she might be taken to is anybody’s best guess, her limp body only reliant on the sounds and motions for reference. As far as she can recall, only a while ago she was fast asleep in the comfort of her friend’s bedroom. Kim’s hands have been bound behind her back, with what she presumes is a single zip-tie. Feeling her claustrophobic surroundings inside the pitch black darkness proves to be more challenging with the unevenness of the driver’s maneuvers on the road. Every time she tries reaching for some button or any item that may have been left inside the trunk alongside her is cut by the forces of gravity. The sideways motions pull her body inside the trunk like a rag doll. Kim remains calm and collected. This is by no means the first time she has found herself in a situation like this, and probably not the last either.

The car crosses a rather steep section of the mountainous road, as it levels out the vehicle pulls to one side and comes to a stop. Kimberly’s senses sharpen as she listens carefully to the doors of the car opening, suggesting the driver may not be alone. Disregarding the strips of tape sealing her lips, Kimberly remains quiet and still, making no attempts to draw the attention to herself. Her instinct tells her they might take her out of the trunk soon, however no such thing would occur. Instead, she can hear the chatter of two voices, one male, the other distinctively female. Outside, and out of Kimberly’s view, the lamp posts cast a candid glow on the stretch of road. The driver and his acquaintance chatter as they light up a cigarette. The view above them is ominous, the stars shine bright and even with the light from the streets, the firmament is well distinguishable in the night sky. A clear map of the stars unfolds before their eyes, in the quiet of the night as they pause to resume their road trip to nowhere. Inside the trunk, the conversation is muffled to the point of it being indistinguishable. Kimberly is well aware that given the small space, there is no way for her to break free of the zip-ties. She focuses on trying to feel around the cavity, searching for any tool or means of escaping. Kim keeps her movements as gentle as possible, as any abrupt movement will send the car into a jerking motion and thus drawing the attention of her captors. After a while, Kim’s hands grab hold of what feels like a small lever. As her bound hands wrap around it, she feels the cold embrace of the rod made of steel.

Kimberly can hear the conversation getting fainter, as if her captors may be slightly further away from the vehicle than before. Without putting too much thought into it, Kimberly pulls the lever in a decisive manner. With all her strength, the trunk suddenly opens up. The sight of a road lamp just above her reveals before her eyes, with not a lot of time to think Kimberly first sits upright on the trunk then snaps out of it. Kimberly starts running in the opposite direction, not even bothering to look back. Still in her sleepwear, the blonde looks to a set of small houses by the side of the road and runs to them. Behind them, the captors see their smoke-break interrupted. Kimberly looks back at her captors, as the man points to her, the woman also takes up running, which makes Kim sprint even faster than before. Her still socked feet against the tarmac is almost imperceptible, but Kim is only meters away from the houses. It is at this moment that the blonde screams against her gag. At first, the screams are subdued by the strips of tape, turning them into muffled ramble. Kim then opens her mouth as wide as the factions of her face allow her. The force of the jaw proves to be enough to remove the tape from her mouth, with her lips no longer sealed Kimberly screams for help. It is at this moment that her captors realize they could get into trouble, so instead of chasing the blonde they cut their losses and get in the car.

Kimberly does not stop screaming until an old woman opens her window looking down on her. The lady is shocked at the sight of the 27 year old in only her night gown, with her hands tied behind her back and the strips of tape still stuck to her upper lip. 

“Come in, I’ll be down in a second.” –– the lady’s voice displayed a tone of urgency, as she let the door open and rushed down the stairs to help her. For Kimberly, it has long become impossible to justify the frequency with which she finds herself in such situations. Only a woman like her bears the talent to escape then, and get caught in them again…

[lanadelgagged]

2. Do-It-Yourself

Kimberly examined her reflection in the hotel room’s mirror, while sunlight peeks through the blinds of the window. She had recently dyed her eyebrows to match the colour of her hair, turns out blonde eyebrows give out the illusion of almost no eyebrows at all. But that was far from the reason why she was sitting on the floor, cross-legged and staring at herself. Besides her lay her laptop, charged to its maximum, and an unusual assortment of items. Neatly arranged on the carpeted floor: a pair of pink handcuffs, a roll of black tape she had just purchased from a hardware store, a wireless Magic Wand with the battery at full charge and an ice tray with a cube containing a set of pink keys, tethered by a shoelace. With a stance more akin to the beginning of a yoga session, Kimberly brought the laptop closer to her. “Self-bondage 101” the main tab reads. A webpage with a set of clear instructions, the first of which she had already completed. She had left the pink set of keys to freeze in the hotel minibar the night before until an ice cube that fitted in the palm of her hand summoned around it. With the flick of her fingers and her gaze fixed on the screen, she started reading the instructions that ensued.

“Once the keys have frozen, begin binding yourself as you please. Start from the legs and work your up (make sure to save your hands for the last step.”

“As you please huh? Cool!” Kimberly thought to herself, she had already planned how she’d spend her first self-bondage session. So she took the roll of black tape and felt her fingers around it. She finally found the break in the tape and started to unroll it with an ominous screeching sound. At the same time, she uncrossed her legs and stretched them. Her feet were covered by a pair of white Nike socks that stretched right under her calves, the kind of socks she takes on every single trip. Her black sports shorts matched and nearly disguised themselves under the loose-fitting black lace camisole. She started wrapping tape around her ankles, the stickiness of it was deterred by the soft cotton of the socks under them but nevertheless, she managed to secure a firm tie that brought her ankles together. She felt around for another break in the tape, this time she wrapped it over and under her knees fusing her legs into one and the same. With no socks to stop it, the tape clings to the skin and Kim feels the stickiness that so dearly pleases her. Before continuing she places the tape gently back on the floor and reaches for her wand. She brings it between her thighs reaching once again for the roll of tape. The head of the wand rests gently against her shorts, she takes the tape and wraps the wand against the side of her thighs until it’s fixed in position. Not yet satisfied, her thighs bulge around the tape as it unrolls around them, bringing her legs closer together and pressing the head of the wand further against the crotch. She pauses and looks at the screen, with the soft touch of her index and ring finger scrolls down the page:

“You may add as many accessories as you want, but avoid using gags that would obstruct your breathing. Instead use an open mouth gag if possible, a breathable ball gag or an unstuffed gag.”

With nothing else available, Kimberly brought the roll of tape to her face and started to tear up long strips with her teeth. She thought of using one of her socks as a comfortable cleave gag or just placed gently over the mouth. However once her ankles were fixed this was no longer an option, she’d have to bind her ankles one more time. A long strip of tape that stretched from one cheek to the other was her choice to begin crafting her gag. She closes her lips and thus their silhouette is concealed behind the black strip of tape that seals them together. Kim looks I’m the mirror to see the result, she loves the look of it not the feel of it. It’s flimsy, unsatisfying, feels loose and lacking in substance. So she takes another strip, shorter than the last, and forms an X shape with yet another one. She presses them against her skin with the palm of her hands until they bond against her skin. But more strips begin to be applied, under her jaw covering her chin, on the further side of her cheeks, until she’s finally satisfied with both the look and sensation of the gag. In the case of an emergency, she knows she can remove the tape relatively easily, but it’s the psychological effect of the pressure against her lips that arouses her lustful instincts. Once again she looks at herself in the mirror, at a portrait remarkably different to the one minutes before. But she’s blissfully satisfied, the black tape looks good on her face as well as her bare legs.

“Hang the frozen keys from a door knob or any surface at reach. Make sure the keys are within arms reach, placed no higher than your head and ensure that they land safely when the ice melts.”

The carpeted floor of the hotel room makes it perfect for the keys not to get lost when they fall to the ground, Kimberly reaches for the shoelace tethered to the ice cube and ties a small knot on the closet’s door knob. The ice cube dangles in the air, right in front of her eyes, with the distinguishable pink keys safe inside them. Kim then reaches for the handcuffs, ready for the last step. As she does, a notification from her friend pops up on the phone: “You’re doing what now? 😂😂” Too excited to respond, and with anticipation building up she ignores the message and reads the final paragraphs of the webpage. The moment of truth is time for Kimberly to grab the handcuffs and lock them around her wrists. Contradicting the advice of the webpage, and despite this being her first time trying it, she decides she’ll bind her hands behind her back. This is still safe but will make reaching for the keys and unlocking herself a bit more challenging, meaning she’d spend more time in her bondage.

The whole prospect seemed to excite her a lot, she couldn’t wait anymore. After the keys were dangling in the air and her body secured with tape, she turned her wand on at a slow comfortable setting. The gentle vibrations send shivers down her spine as her body quivers and squirms ever so slightly. Kimberly then grabbed the pink handcuffs and held her arms behind her back.

*click*
*click*

A cold metallic sound accompanies the cuffs locking behind her, her wrists now bound. That’s it, she’s now helpless and at the mercy of the ice cube melting. Her body shivers in excitement as Kimberly comes to terms with the wide variety of feelings that overcome her. Right by her side, the ice has already started to melt, letting out small drops of water to the carpet and creating a very small puddle. Her breathing intensified, against the low buzz of the vibrator. The mere sight of her release device dangling casually in front of her aroused her excitement. She started breathing heavily, not out of panic but sheer excitement. Kimberly started squirming in place, shyly struggling against her bonds as if she were afraid of tearing them, pretending she had been kidnapped, perhaps held for a ransom. Many scenarios entered her mind, and she let her imagination fly in the stillness of her predicament. The wand proved to be a fitting distraction, arousing her and adding to the headspace she was dipping herself in. Her body reacted to the complexity of her mixed emotions, “Mmmmmmm...” She mumbles against her gag as if someone could hear her. The puddle grew bigger as the ice started to melt, Kim had lost track of time by this stage as she looked at herself in the mirror, occasionally tilting her head to see how much of the ice had melted.

What once was an ice cube the size of her palms now is reduced to more than half the size, time is uncertain but Kimberly knows it won’t be long before the ice melts completely. And so it does, the rest of the ice melts becoming untethered from the shoelace and letting the pink key drop to the floor. As it falls the keys bounce off, landing just a few inches away from the puddle of water on the carpet. Kimberly then shifts her body around, feeling the carpeted floor carefully with the palms of her hands. She feels the cold damp puddle and knows the keys cannot be too far. She moves her wrists taking up all the slack the handcuffs allow her, continuing to feel the floor. Until she finally finds the keys, they rattle and she carefully takes to the relentless task of unlocking the handcuffs.

But all of the sudden, a series of three loud knocks on the door are audible inside the room. “Housekeeping!” A muffled female voice summons from the other side of the door. Kimberly breaks a cold sweat, this is the worst moment possible. Her heart skips a beat, breathing heavier than before. Her nerves cause her to rush her escape, but this only results in her losing her grip on the keys. As they drop to the floor once again, more loud knocks reverberate across the room. “Housekeeping!” Turns out she had skipped a crucial part of the tutorial, one that unfortunately couldn’t be found on the webpage. She forgot to leave the “Do not disturb sign” on the doorknob, but right now there was nothing she could do about it. With anxiety inducing a sense of urgency Kimberly felt the floor for the keys again. She managed to grab them one more time, but it was too late. The sound of the electronic key entering the slot and unlocking the door meant her fate was sealed in embarrassment...

The door opens, Kimberly can only hear it but she pictures the moment in her mind. Her keys drop to the floor one more time, much further this time. The housekeeper entered the bathroom and made a quick inspection. She then made her way into the room and was shocked by the sight of Kimberly sitting on the floor, handcuffed and gagged. Kim’s eyes opened wide in sheer panic, which soon turned into a deep embarrassment. “Oh, lord! What the hell happened to you...” At a first glance, Kim could tell the woman was much older than her, of a heavier voluptuous complexion and with facial features of Asian origin. Her face was remarkably unflattering, she thought to herself. Dressed in maid clothes, the woman wore a tag on her overalls but Kim couldn’t discern her name. The housekeeper scanned the scene with her eyes carefully, trying to surmise what made Kimberly end up in such a situation. Pink handcuffs, pink keys, the vibe fixed between her legs, the roll of tape laying by her side... She immediately knew:

“Well well, someone is having fun it seems... Am I interrupting you, sweetheart?”

Kimberly shook her head from side to side, she tried to speak through the strips of tape sealing her lips but quickly realised her gag turned out more effective than expected. “Mmhm mmmghh, mmmhggph...” A muffled string of words came out of her as if she trying to explain the situation in the most coherent terms possible.

The maid bends down and takes up the key from the floor. “You wanted this?” Kimberly violently nodded, as she yelled against her gag. Her embarrassment wasn’t subdued by any means, but she seemed ecstatic that the woman finally understood what she wanted.

“So you make this little act bound and all, then you make sure not to leave the do not disturb sign so that someone finds you like this? What is this, like a weird fantasy of yours?”

Kimberly rolled her eyes and tried to vocalise her explanation the best she could: “Nnmmmmpgh, mmmhhhh mmphhhh mmmh...” The housekeeper wasn’t impressed, her expression had shifted from surprised to visibly annoyed by her actions. Still, she held the keys in her hands as if she didn’t know what to do with them despite it being so obvious. She paused for a second, then she clenched her fist concealing the keys between her palm and her fingers.

“I’m sick and tired, this is the third time I’ve had to deal with a pervert this week. Enough is enough.”

If there was any doubt in Kim’s head this cleared all of them. Cold sweats began breaking and dripping down her forehead, and her face which once was red with sunburn now was as pale as the moonlight. She couldn’t discern her intentions as the maid approach her on the floor, with a defiant stare. Using both her arms, she helped Kimberly to her feet and she finally stood up still with her hands bound behind her back. As she was brought to her feet, the Blonde unsuccessfully tried to grab her phone from the floor. The maid gripped her shoulders decidedly with both her hands and started directing her like a show puppet. Kim simply complied having to tip-toe her way around the room, occasionally hopping around to close the distances. The maid started leading her out of the room, at first Kimberly thought she was being taken to the bathroom, but to her horror, she was leading her into the hallway of the hotel. The maid held Kim’s right humerus with one hand, using the other to open the door.

“MMPPPPGHHH, MMMMPPPHHH NNNBGGGGGH” She starts to yell and loses her temper, she tries to pull her body back inside the room but it’s impossible. Not only is the housekeeper’s force no match for hers, but the tightness of her bonds deters any successful attempt at resisting. Protest is futile, the hallway reveals before her eyes with the housekeeping trolley parked by the side of the door. The maid pushes her boys outside of the room, Kimberly is now standing in the middle of the hallway with the warm roof lights pointing straight at her helpless rostrum. Her eyes open wide and her body quivers as the housekeeper turns the wand to its highest setting.

“You want the key? Well, go fetch it...” — with her clenched wrist and using the force of her whole arm, the housekeeper tosses the key as far as she can. As it lands on the carpeted floor it to fades with the distance, the pink keys barely reflect the light off the ceiling but still, Kimberly can see how far it’s travelled. It’s almost at the opposite end of the hallway, in front of the elevators. Kim watches in horror as the maid takes the trolley and disappears into the opposite room, slamming the door shut behind her. Kimberly froze in place as much as the vibrations pounding into her crotch allowed her, with eyes doused in terror. Her instincts kicked in, there was no way she’d let someone find her like this. The embarrassment and ignominy of the confrontation with the maid was punishment enough, she thought to herself. How mortifying it would be for another guest to witness the scene. She started to tip-toe her way across the hallway, when she realised she was making little progress she turned to bunny hopping to lessen the distance. This worked wonders, it seemed to slightly loosen the tape thus granting her some much-needed slack on her lower body. However, this was an exhausting exercise to continue for a prolonged time. Occasionally she’d stop to catch her breath with her nose, allowing her legs to relax before continuing. The buzz of the vibrator was sometimes cut by the sounds of indistinct fiddling behind doors. To her fortune none of those doors became opened, her predicament had lasted for more time than she count and yet she hadn’t been found out.

Kimberly finally reaches the end of the hallway, the pink keys now stand out from the carpet. She loses her balance and falls face first to the floor, but it’s okay with her since the keys now lay right in front of her nose, so close she could almost smell them. Like a worker she crawled her way to her, closing the short distance that separates them. As she does she turns her back around a bit, soon using her hands to feel around the carpet. But without warning the bell from the elevator in front of her rings, the bulb lights up and the doors open...

[lanadelgagged]

3. The Burglar

The night she was burglarised, Kimberly sat in front of the television upstairs in nothing but her sleepwear. Slowly but certainly the chicken wings she had ordered started to become nothing but bones and charred flesh piling on top of one another, as she bit down eagerly piece by piece. Only against the glow of the tv could one notice her lips getting tainted by the hot sauce and leaving marks around her mouth. A stain of hot sauce was visible on her white cotton top, Kimberly sat cross-legged in her panties. It was an unusually warm night in the neighbourhood, Kim binged a new show on HBO from sundown until the advanced hours of the night. In her bed, she would switch positions,

It must have been around 11:00 PM when she woke up to strange noises downstairs, barely disguised by the sounds from the television still playing. With her eyes still half-open, she reached for the remote to turn the volume down. But she heard nothing after that and just brushed it off. There was sweat coming from her forehead and the surface of the bed had become warm with her touch. Once again a series of creaking noises emanated from downstairs, perhaps due to the faint sound of the television they sounded much clearer this time. At this moment Kimberly grabbed a flashlight and headed to the staircase, she didn’t suspect much but still wanted to check the source. After all, she lived in a quiet safe neighbourhood in the middle of the mountains, and the community had hired two college girls for nighttime neighbourhood watch. She exited her bedroom and rested her limp wrist against the railing of the staircase, pointing her flashlight downstairs.

And sure enough there he was, from the darkness a mystery figure would emerge. The silhouette of a man dressed in black from head to toe, his face masked. He pauses for a second, looks at the blonde lady upstairs, and immediately makes a run for the front door.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Kimberly directs a yell against the intruder. He ignored her, the flashlight traced him until he reached the door knob.

“WAIT, WAIT! Come back!” The change of tone in her voice prompted the masked assailant to stop in his tracks, he turned around to see Kimberly halfway down the flight of stairs. He looked at her quizzically, scanning her from top to bottom. Kimberly rested her hips on the wall and relaxed her hands still pointing at the intruder.

“I think you are missing some stuff, the jewellery boxes are upstairs you know. They’re a whole more valuable than whatever you have in there.” She said fixing her gaze upon the ragged plastic bag where he stored the stolen goods. Even under the black ski mask, the intruder was in visible confusion, he hesitated for a second. “Oh... okay? Whereabouts upstairs?” he responded almost shyly. “Follow me, I’ll show you.” Kimberly talked in the way that someone who is setting up a trap would, but there was no ulterior motive to this train of events. Inside her bedroom, she drew an assortment of precious stones and jewels and places them on top of the table. “Here” The masked assailant hesitantly collects them, holding them against his glove hand before carefully placing them inside the bag. “Well... umm... thank you very much I guess?” The confusion in his voice hadn’t changed a bit. He would then close the bag and turn his back against the blonde. “Woah Woah, where do you think you’re going?” He turns around again, but this time doesn’t respond to her just stares at her figure. “You just can’t leave like that, what kind of burglar are you? By the time you’ve gone downstairs and exited the door I would have already called the cops, and you’d be toast.” The masked intruder paused for a brief second: “Well, what do you suggest I do then...” Kimberly facepalmed right in front of him. “Tie me up silly, duh! Is this the first time you rob a house?” She removes the palm from her face and points to a box inside her closet. “Look, see right there? There’s rope inside that box, take some coils out and start tying me.”

The Burglar reaches for the box, leaving the bag full of Kimberly’s jewels on the floor. From within them he draws three coils of white cotton rope and holds them against his hands, almost as if the assailant was trying to feel them. “Not too sure that’s enough but anyway.” Kimberly hops on the edge of the bed and presents her feet, stretching her legs in front of her. “Start with the ankles, work your way up.” She says in a nonchalant, almost playful tone. The Burglar complies, although he fails to understand the purpose of this whole situation. By now he could have run away from the premises, joined his accomplice and leave the neighbourhood never to be seen again. But without giving it too much of a thought, he brought the ends of the rope close to her skin. He hesitantly began to feed the rope around her ankles, connecting until the tips touch. He continued with his motion to the best of his capabilities, but the ties came out flimsy. “No, not like that! C’mon, you should know this... let me show you.” Kimberly’s tone was inches close to disappointment, he took the coil of rope from the Burglar’s hands and began to feed them kneeling on the floor. With a simple double column tie the rope was firmly secured around her ankles, then to be tethered to her thigh. She drew another set of rope and repeated the process, binding her calves to the back of her thighs and thus completing a frog tie.

“See how easy it is, now you just need to bind my wrists together.” The Burglar was visibly surprised by how casual and eager his victim was, given the context of the situation. Somehow he didn’t feel in control of the situation, merely witnessing and now complying with the instructions of the person he was robbing. But Kimberly’s instructions were concise and clear, like Sargent issuing orders to recruits. “You need more rope, there’s plenty on the box just take whichever one you like.” Once again the Burglar complied, he brought another set of ropes and approached the kneeling Kimberly. She immediately offered her hands, joining her wrists behind her back and cocking her head up. The Burglar started to coil the rope on her soft skin, and as the rope stretches it pulls Kimberly’s wrists together. This time though the ropes felt tighter, they clung to her skin allowing no slack. “See, you’re getting the hang of it already!” Kimberly exclaimed with a hint of euphoria. “Right buddy, now take that coil of rope and feed them around my breasts. Make sure it’s tight and you wrap it around several times.” The Burglar flusters under his mask, and hesitantly he complies by undoing the rope and feeding it right through Kim’s underboob. The upper section of her bosoms suffers the same treatment, as the ropes pull against her skin and white top the shape of her breasts becomes more defined. They lay sensually accentuated, drawing attention to her bust. “Perfect, now take the ends of that same rope and pull them under my armpits, make your way up to the shoulders and pull them under the other armpit to repeat the process.” The way Kimberly issued her orders felt like she had those lines memorised as if the process was second nature to her. A simple chest harness is summoned upon the blonde’s upper body. “Good, now just knot the loose end and you’re done.” The Burglar absorbed Kim’s satisfaction and made it his own, as he tied up the last knot he felt it was about time to pack up his bounty and leave. And so he does, as he leaves Kimberly to struggle against her bonds he draws the bag and makes his way to the bedroom door.

“Hey, you! Wait a minute...” Kimberly yelled at him, causing the assailant to roll his eyes behind the mask. “What now?” He responds, visibly annoyed. “You can’t just leave like this, what if I start screaming and alert the neighbours? Or worse, what if I dial 911 through Siri...” The Burglar just stood and looked at her quizzically: “So what, I gotta gag you now too?”

“Gosh, you’re such a terrible criminal... Open the drawer on my bedside table” She says as she points her head towards the side of the bed where the small wooden table rests. “Take the roll of microfoam tape, it’s the white one. Oh and don’t forget to draw a pair of my panties too.” Drawing the contents from within the table, the burglar returns to her captive and kneels next to her. “You don’t need to tell me what to do with these. Open up.” The Burglar holds the pair of rolled-up black panties to her lips. “Oh, this is so exciting... Aaaaaaa” Kim can’t curb her excitement, nor does she makes any efforts to disguise it. Her mouth opens and immediately the panties are crammed inside. Between her teeth she feels the soft fabric of her underwear, instinctively biting down on them. They sit comfortably inside, almost as if they were made to fit. The Burglar rips the roll of microfoam tape and begins to unwind it. He holds the end of the tape with his fingers and begins to wrap it around Kimberly’s head, gently pressing his palm against her skin as the tape unrolls around her. The white material blends into her long blonde hair, Kimberly closes her eyes and savours the moment in absolute bliss. The nameless Burglar unspools the tape around her until it finally comes to an end, her lips becoming sealed defining their shape reducing her voice to a mumble, reducing her speech to a muffled ramble. “Good girl,” the Burglar says, he too is invested at the moment but not as much as her captive. He has a task to complete.

Finally with both parties satisfied and the concealed look of a job well done, the mysterious burglar exits the room, leaving Kimberly to struggle in her headspace. He makes his way downstairs and leaves the house the same way he entered it, through the backdoor. He is now in a rush to meet his female accomplice, with a fruitful bounty. Upstairs Kimberly rejoices in her bonds, warm in the embrace of the ropes tugging against her skin. She shifts her body on her frog tie and rolls around the floor like a ballet dancer across the parquet. Kimberly is in her world, her happy place.

“Little does he know about the fake jewellery I gave him?” She thinks to herself...

[lanadelgagged]

4. Videotaped

Cabo San Jorge, Mexico.


When Kimberly Tapes opened her purse to store her sunglasses, Victor Lance and Aja Makani were already sitting across her. She eased into the seat and brushed the rogue strands of blonde hair to the sides of her forehead, crossed her legs and allowed her flip-flops to dangle in the air beneath the pink soles of her feet. Immediately, she felt their attentive gazes burning into her, much like the sunburn that tainted her skin cherry red. Behind them, there was the gleaming water feature of the mall, with golden railings.


“So, why did you meet me here?” – Kim’s voice cut through the revelry of spinning slot machines and ambient music.

“We thought it might be fitting.” – spoke Lance.

“Fitting for what?” – inquired Kim.

“We want to make you an offer, but before we do, let me get you up to speed.” – Lance lit the tip of a cigarette. – “First of all, thanks for seeing us here. I know you’re on holiday and all, but you know how it goes. I’m sure you are aware of Mister Nasty’s new… little business venture, let’s call it that.”

“I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“Wonderful.” – said Lance, with a gleaming smile.

“Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“We uhm… We want you to star in one of his movies.”

“What? Why me?” – came the puzzled blonde.

“You’re slim, you’re a gorgeous woman, flexible… You were made for the role!” – Lance made his words sound like a spiel.

“What about her?” – Kim pointed to Aja Makani, who hadn’t removed her round sunglasses.

“Uh? What about her?”

“She’s slim, she’s a gorgeous woman and looks flexible enough. Why can’t she do it?”

“Oh, it’s just not the same. You were made for this role, I tell you. Nobody could do it like you…”

“But I’m not an actress. Besides, I’m not sure I wanna feature in a porno…”

“Porno?” – Lance let out a chuckle. – “Who said anything about a porno? No, this is not exactly what you said, it’s different.”

“How so?” – Kim leant into the wooden table.

“You won’t be naked, just in your underwear.” – Lance blew out smoke through the nose. – “And no sex, just fondling, massaging, that kinda thing.”

“I can manage that I guess… What’s in it for me then?”

“Ten thousand dollars in cash for three hours of honest work. And we’ll pay for the room, Mister Nasty is very keen on making the business take off.”

“I see.”

“What’s it gonna be then?”


Lance, cigarette clenched between his teeth, leaned back into the chair and glanced at Aja Makani, who never spoke a word. Kimberly was musing a thought, the blonde woman adjusted the straps of her clear blue top over the shoulders. They sat with their words for brief moments, the silence between them only interrupted by the deafening sights and sounds of the casino floor.


“Okay, I’ll take it. But three hours, not a single minute more.”

“Glad to have you on board.” – Lance flashed a smile, which almost contorted into a sly grin, and so did Aja. – “Here’s a gift from yours truly.”


Victor Lance gestured to Aja, and she handed Kimberly a red shopping bag which read ‘Del Amo Fashion Center’. A glance inside it revealed a few sequinned items of clothing and a shoebox that Kimberly could not quite make out.


“Wear those to the shoot. You wear a medium size, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“How lovely.” – Lance and Aja rose from their seats, he offered Kimberly a hand. – “Are you free this evening?”

“I am.” – Kimberly and Lance’s hands fused into a firm handshake. – “Why?”


Lance did not respond, at least not with words. He fished inside his back pocket and produced a small piece of paper, which promptly handed to Kim. The blonde woman read what was written, ‘ROOM 1520, PALMS HOTEL & CASINO’, and put it inside the shopping bag.


“Ten o’clock. We’ll be expecting you. Don’t be late.” – his words were almost robotic.

“I won’t be.”


Kimberly parted ways with Victor Lance and Aja Makani; she watched her silhouettes, hand in hand, blending with the crowd of tourists inside the casino. “What the hell’s her problem?” – Kimberly thought to herself, Lance’s partner barely even acknowledged her throughout their exchange.

Back in her hotel room, and having stuffed a Kahoona Burger from Freckled Bitches’ down her gullet, Kimberly emptied the contents of the shopping bag into the fresh linens of the bed. Inside, she found a black sequinned dress with embroidered details, a pair of black, ten-den pantyhose and matching open-toe heels, the buckles of which were made by Playboy and had its logo over the leather straps.



· · ·



Well, somehow, they took a wild guess at my size and almost got it right on the first try. I’m not a big fan of sequins, but it’s a nice contrast with my pale skin. Three days on the resort and I’m still white like a ghost… I better get going soon; the hotel room’s alarm clock is about to strike 21:54, and I don’t really trust myself with these heels. They seem comfortable, but then again, all heels are comfortable until you walk on them.
This hotel, its corridors, they’re like a maze to me. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wondered aimlessly trying to find the elevators. But I finally manage to find them, the doors open and, in a jiffy, I’m on the fifteenth floor.

Finding room 20 is less of a challenge. Its door is very slightly ajar, so much that I only realise when I’m mere inches away. There’s classical musical music, opera, seeping from the room and blending with the soft muzak of the corridors. I’m not sure whether I should knock or bust in unannounced. Better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission, right? I open the door very slowly as if trying to be courteous.

The room is a suite, not unlike mine. At a glance, you can admire the meticulous job of the cleaning staff. A spotless room save for a silver tray full of plastics and napkins, the remnants of a room service order perhaps.

My gaze fixes on the balcony, where I can see Aja Makani, or rather her back. She’s barefoot, hair draped in a white towel as if she had just left the shower, wearing a white sequinned dress not unlike mine. She doesn’t acknowledge my presence, poised on the golden railing and holding a cigarette in the air.


“Hello?” – comes my voice, almost offended.


It quickly dawns on me that this woman hasn’t even spoken to me, not in front of Lance and not by herself either. As she turns around, I can see she’s still wearing those rounded sunglasses all the girls are wearing nowadays. It’s ten at night, take them off, for fuck’s sake…


“Oh, please. Come in.” – she has a voice, mazel tov!

‘I already did, idiot.” – I think to myself…

“Make yourself comfortable.”

“Where’s Lance?” – seems like the only logical question in this moment.

“Lance is a busy man, he has business to tend to…”

“Oh, of course…”

“It will just be the two of us tonight. Champagne?” – she asks, drawing the Dom Perignon bottle from its ice tray.

“No thanks. I don’t on the job. Whatever job this is anyway.

“Ease up a little, will you?” – she takes a sip.


I make my way to the bed and sit on its soft edge, eyes darting across the room. The simple fact is I’m pretty familiar with the room itself but not with the woman I’m supposed to be working with. There are seconds of awkward silence that feel like an eternity, only interrupted by the fizzing of the champagne in the elongated glass.


“So uhm… What is it exactly that you want to do?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” – she hands me a glass of champagne, which I didn’t sign up for. – “It’s not rocket science. At times, you’ll be just sitting pretty, and when not, I’ll be giving you simple instructions. You are good at following instructions, aren’t you?”

“I think so.” – comes my response, not yet daring to drink from the glass. – “At least that’s why Lance likes counting on me.”

“And that’s exactly what Lance told me. Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll set everything up and we’ll start rolling.”

“Is there a script I have to read off?”

“No, it’s all improvised. Just be yourself.” – she says. – “You’re good at that too, aren’t you?”


I nod gently. Only after she disappears into the small walk-in closet of the hotel room do I take a sip, only to remember why I’ve never liked the taste of champagne. If it weren’t just for the taste, but the bubbles… I cross my legs, almost striking a pose as I bring the rim of the glass to my lips.

When Makani emerges, she’s carrying a tripod with a brand-new camcorder fixed on top. I can tell it’s heavy, judging by how much she’s struggling.


“Do you need help?” – I inquire.

“No, no. It’s fine.” – she glances at me. – “Actually, hold it.”

“Hold what?”

“I like that pose. Don’t move.”

“Okay.” – my intonation makes it sound like a question, I simply comply.


Aja moves the tripod at an angle, facing me. She removes the lens cover and gently cleans it with a rag. She walks behind the tripod and adjusts it until her face is partially hidden behind the viewfinder. She closes her left eye, focusing on the viewfinder’s eye cap.


“Just act nonchalant, as if I wasn’t watching you at all.”

“I’ll try.”


I keep sipping on the champagne glass, pausing to adjust my hair behind my back and making gentle moves with my feet.


The camera pans very slowly, indeed, first focusing on Kim’s vivid red lips in a bold zoom. It travels down her bust, following the curves of her slim body edged by the black dress, down to her hips. A close-up of her pantyhosed legs, crossed, first on her thighs and then spiralling downward to the tips of her high-heeled shoes.


“This should make for a great introduction.”


The red diode on the camera dies, and Aja pauses to move away from the tripod. The music stops, now all I can hear is the small cassette deck opening and spiting the tape.


“Let’s play something more fitting, shall we?”


Aja hits the play button after swapping the tapes, and the room fills with the soft saxophone intro to Van Houten’s ‘Can I Borrow A Feeling?’ She rummages inside a shopping bag, not unlike the one I was given and produces something from it, but I can’t tell what. She moves over to the camera, points it to the bed.


“Take off your shoes and hop on the bed.”


I comply without uttering a word, leaving the almost empty champagne glass on the bedside table. After I’ve undone the buckles of the high heels, I kick them to the floor and kneel at the centre of the bed. The red diode on the camera reappears, and after a few adjustments, Aja hops on the bed behind me.
With a gentle touch, she grabs me by the wrists and guides them to my back. Her movements are slow and calculated. There are a few items beside me that I can barely catch a glimpse of.


Kim’s upper body is framed in a close-up, right below her jawbone. We see Aja Makani’s silhouette, her fair hands, but not her face or the rest of her body. Gentle movements concealing what she’s doing behind Kimberly’s back…


Two audible clicks, followed by a cold pang of metal around my wrists. As I try to move them, it rattles the metal with a distinct clank. Until I take all the slack, and I realise she just handcuffed me.


“Open wide.” – she says.


I’m not really thinking much at this point, all I have to do –allegedly– is follow orders. So I open as wide as my jaw allows. In a swift move, I feel a large ball, something made of silicone, lodging between my lips. My teeth dig into it, only to realise my jaw is locked open, and there’s little I can do to close it. I can feel the features of my face contort into god-knows-what shape, but more than enough to distort my facial expressions.
Aja pulls the strap tighter and buckles the length of leather to the back of my head, further pushing the ball inside of my mouth. It’s taking an effort on my end to grow accustomed to this feeling, not just the discomfort but the increasing lack of agency.


“See? You’re already getting the hang of it.”


A pool of saliva begins to form on my lower lip, but before it drips, Aja plasters a length of white tape over them. At first, I think it’s just a strip, but instead, she smoothes out the white material to wrap it around my head a couple of times until I lose count. With the palm of her hand, she presses the tape to my cheek until secured and satisfied.

I can feel the weight of Aja shift on the bed, I can’t see but rather feel her move about, reaching for something. She grabs me by the back, clutching and clinging to my upper body. In her left hand, a sharp knife. Its blade glints in the warm, dim light.

My eyes open wide. A contortion of horror. For the first time, I try to speak or rather yell.


“MMMMMPPHGGGHHH!! MGHHFHHGG??”


The blade cuts through the fabric like butter, in one long run down. Once it’s separated into two roughly equal halves, Aja rips the dress apart.


“Who told you to wear a bra?”

“MMghghh, mmmghh. Mgghhh mmmppphhh…” – you, bitch, you did.


She guffaws. With the same knife, she cuts the dark bra and too rips it apart. By this point it’s hard for me to decide which torments me the most: this fucking gag, the fact that she just exposed me, or my hundred-dollar bra ripped to shreds on the bed…


“Exactly, that’s it. That’s the kind of reaction we want.”

“MMGHHHG?” – WE?


Aja leaves me to my devices, but not for long. When she returns, she carries at least four lengths of red rope, neatly coiled. She stretches one of them, folds it in half and brings the bight under my breasts. The next thing I feel is tugging, as the ropes cling to my skin in one swift move that takes up all the slack. As I glance down, Aja twists and turns the rope, so long that she struggles to keep track. She forms two parallel lines, one under and the other over my breasts before changing directions and weaving them between my tits.
The more she tugs, the more it accentuates my bust. With my handcuffs still and with plenty of remaining rope, she guides my arms into a box position, which she proceeds to bring together with a series of tight knots, around my elbows and over the already bound wrists.

With her hand on my right shoulder and a gentle push, I find myself falling back to the pillows on the bed. She stretches my legs, turning my body so that I’m now lying on my stomach. With my face against the pillow, I can barely see anything at all, only feel my ankles being brought together and bound. I assume with the same red rope. It clings to my skin but I can barely feel it under the black pantyhose.

After she’s done with the ankles, she repeats the process at the calves, knees, thighs, and even at the soles of my feet, cinching them together. She moves my bound body away from the pillows and turns it to face the camera. I’m struggling to even glance at it, given how limited my movements are in this matrix of rope.

She brings another coil of rope and tightens it around my ankles, over the rope already cinching them together. Aja stretches it to my wrists and pulls. I feel my legs slowly move inward, close to my wrists, so close that I can almost touch my toes with the tips of my fingers. But soon, I wouldn’t be able to even if I tried. Using the spare roll of microfoam tape, she encases my hands into mere stumps, with no use for my fingers.


“Mppghhhh…” – a mild complaint escapes my gagged lips.


Aja brings her hands to my long, blonde hair and starts playing with it. First, a timid scalp massage, the kind of massage an inexperienced person would give. Then, she divides my hair into two halves and pulls it. She tugs at roughly constant intervals, and I reckon she’s tying those halves into long braids, first the left, then the right.

Those same braids join the complex tangle of rope as she uses the remnant to tether them to the hogtie. Still not uttering a word, she rises from the bed and behind the camera, she goes.


The frame shows a close-up of Kimberly’s face, jaw stretched under the layers of white microfoam with a clear imprint of the ballgag beneath it. Face red with sunburnt, gaze locked onto the camera, glittering, watery as if the strain in her jaw was causing them to tear up. From this perspective, we get a clear view of her nylon-clad soles in the air, synchronised with her vague attempts at breaking free. Clearer is the view of the ropes, coiled around her body in an inescapable cocoon, more red than skin…


“That’s the money shot there.” – comes Aja’s voice, pleased but still fixed on the camera.


She sits by the edge of the bed beside the helpless blonde. They meet their gazes. Aja looks at her, then back at the camera.


“My name is Honeybun, and this is my friend Kimberly.” – she turns to me in an annoying Valley girl voice. – “Say hi.”

“MMHGHHHHHGGPHH…” – I blurt out the gag.

“Kimberly has got herself into a bit of trouble because she’s been a very naughty girl and has agreed to all of this. So… for the next three hours, or as long as the tape runs out, we’re gonna have lots of fun with her. Isn’t that right, darling?”

[lanadelgagged]

5. The Courier

“What am I, some sort of errand girl now?”

“The best-paid errand girl that there is, no doubt about that. It’s just that… we and Mister Nasty like the way you work.”

“I see, all right… What’s it gonna be this time?” – Kimberly leaned against the doorframe.

“Ever worked in a pizza parlour?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“That’s fine, you’ll get the hang of it.” – Lance paused. – “Here.”


He handed Kimberly Tapes a pizza box with a few garments neatly folded on top of it, the blonde woman held it with both hands and utmost care. Lance drew a set of keys from his pocket and nestled it on top of the garments.


“We need you to deliver this pizza box to the Off-Ramp Motel, room 203. Those,” – he pointed. – “are keys for the scooter.”

“Do you want me to go now?”

“No, when the sun goes down.”

“Pizza’s gonna be cold by then.”

“Honey, you’re not delivering pizza.”

“I’m not? What’s in there then…”

“The stuff.” – he coughed. – “The good stuff.”

“Oh, right.”

“Five hundred dollars for your trouble, how’s that sound?”

“Fair.” – came the blonde woman’s voice. – “I’ll take that any day of the week.”

“I knew you would.” – Lance offered his hand and quickly withdrew it, noticing that Kim couldn’t shake it. – “It’s always a pleasure doing business with you.” – he flashed a smile.

“Hang on. Before you leave,” – came Kim’s voice. – “Is this supposed to be an exchange? How much does the guy have to give me?”

“He already paid, so consider it more of a delivery rather than an exchange.”

“I’m glad I asked.”

“Take care, don’t be stranger.”

“I won’t”



· · ·



When will I finally learn to say no? I wish my parents had taught me that, I wouldn’t be stuck in the evening traffic jam with a stash of god-knows-what behind me. The red lights in this city are ludicrous, give me a break here… But I guess I keep agreeing to these endeavours because nobody in the right mind would decline five hundred dollars for such a trivial effort. The Off-Ramp Motel is around the next exit and the roads are getting quieter – thank god for that.

What a dingy place; I’m parked at the curb and I can already see the place through the visor of the helmet, two floors, classic roadside motel, as generic and impersonal as it gets. Nobody bats an eye here, nobody ever acknowledges each other’s presence. I guess this is what makes it the perfect hangout for winos. Anyway, let’s get this over with.

I get out of the motorbike and remove my helmet, donning a baseball cap instead. Tying my hair into a long ponytail was probably the best idea I’ve had in the past couple of days. I’m not exactly a big ideas gal, as you can see. What am I even doing here? Pizza box in hand, I amble over to the motel’s flight of stairs which leads me to the second floor, where I can start searching for room 202. The dimly lit corridors are silent except for the flickering of fluorescent lights. Some of the room numbers are torn off, or barely readable. But eventually, I find one that reads ‘202’.

Knock, knock. – My clenched fist pounds the door eagerly, I can hear someone inside. The door opens and the guy is – to my surprise – clean–shaven and respectable, with a stylish haircut, the name of which I can’t put my finger on. I can hear the faint sound from the television echoing across the room, some sort of basketball game is on.


“Oh, bliss.” – comes his manly voice. – “Thank god you’re here, I’m starving.”


He has a sense of humour too, who would have thought?


“Here’s the good stuff, I hope you enjoy it.”

“Lord knows I will,” – there’s a trace of a Southern accent in his voice. – “Leave that on the table if you please, I’ll go get the money.”

“What do you mean?” – a puzzled expression conquers my face.

“Well, the money I gotta pay you of course.” – he chuckles, leading me to believe he’s joking.


I see him rummaging inside his wallet and taking out a few bank notes, he’s not joking.


“Hang on, didn’t you pay in advance?” – I inquire.

“No… Who the hell pays for pizza in advance?”

“But I thought… I’m so confused…”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” – I assert.

“Look girl, I just placed an order for the good stuff. I don’t know what’s all this ‘paying in advance’ malarkey.”

“I know, and I’ve got the good stuff right here.” – I tap the pizza box.

“Sweet. Now that should be ten dollars and fifty cents, I give you fifteen and you keep the change. Simple enough, right?” – he counts the bills in his hand. – “Now make it snappy sweetheart, that pizza’s getting cold as we speak.”

“Cold?”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“It’s not gonna get cold, this stuff shouldn’t be hot in the first place…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” – the man is becoming visibly irritated.

“The good stuff.”

“Yeah, the good stuff: pepperoni pizza, extra-doughy and with melted cheese around the rim as I ordered.” – he pauses. – “Sounds like it should be hot, don’t you think?”

”I think you’ve got it all wrong…”

“Wha– why? What’s in there then?”


Both our gazes fall on the pizza box on the table, nothing of what just happened makes sense to me. I amble over to it and open the lid. Inside it, there’s a plastic bag that matches the shape of the pizza box, filled with red, pink and yellow heart-shaped SPANK pills. We fall silent, looking at each other. It’s hard for me to tell which of us is more confused. The sounds from the television fill the room until he speaks in faltering bursts:


“What do you – what the hell is this?”

“That’s the good stuff.”

“I didn’t order any of this stuff.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. I ordered a pizza, like, an actual pizza.”

“Oh…”

“You’re a filthy drug dealer, aren’t ya?”

“Wait, this is just – it’s not what it looks like.”

“Com’ere you mongrel…”



· · ·



Turns out the guy is smarter than I thought. Annoyingly, the guy is also the snitching kind. I have to helplessly watch him pick up the phone and dial 911, while I squirm in my seat. Lance is going to be so pissed when he finds out about this, but right now, I’ve got plenty on my plate.


“Hello, nine–one–one?” – he nestles the phone in his right ear. – “I’d like to report some suspicious activity, possible narcotics exchange. Yeah, okay, I’ll hold.”


‘Possible narcotics exchange?’ Who does this guy think he is, McBane? He’s watched too many episodes of Miami Vice, what a joke.


“Yeah, the Off-Ramp Motel. Room number? Two hundred and two.” – he pauses. – “All right, yeah. Thank you.”


If only these zip-ties weren’t so tight I’d probably stand a chance of breaking them, but the tender skin around my wrists is hurting like a bitch. Whoever this guy has done a good job of binding my legs to each leg of the chair, but that won’t be too much of an issue; I can raise the chair and pull the zip-ties down, if only this guy wasn’t looking at me the whole time…


“Stop wriggling, yer not breaking out of that,” – he sits on the couch. – “I’m trying to watch the game.”

“C’mon man… Why are you doing this?”

“Just doing my duty as a civilian. Nothing personal, honey.”

“It was just a confusion.” – I stir in my bonds. – “Look, how much money do you want? You say, I’ll pay it…”

“Are ya trying to bribe me? That may work with your kind of riff-raff, not me, babe.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the mayor will give you the keys to the city after this one. Real local hero shit.”

“Don’t talk to me that way young woman, have some respect.”

“Have some respect yourself and untie, will you?”

“You’re in no position to demand anything.”

“Like hell I am.”

“And don’t dare speak to me like that.”

“Make me, asshole.”

“Is that right?”


The guy comes at me like a bull in the ring, he grabs the chair from the back and lowers it to the ground so that my bound ankles are now in the air.


“Put me back up, what are you crazy?” – I protest. – “What are you doing?”


The man doesn’t respond. He just undoes the laces on my work boots and removes one of them, the right one. He peels off the white crew sock, exposing my feet, then rolls it up into a ball.


“Keep talking, it’ll get you places.” – he says, with his hand inching closer to my lips.

“What the– stop it! Get away from me.”

“Here comes the aeroplane…”


I’m trying to come up with a clever response, but even before my mouth is fully open, he crams the rolled-up sock into my mouth. God, how I wish I wasn’t on these all day long… Between my teeth, I try to spit the thick fabric to no avail. When the man reaches for the table, he produces a roll of black duct tape.


“Mfhghhhgpph…” – my protests are quelled by the sock in my mouth, and made unnoticeable by the sharp ripping sound of the tape unspooling from the roll. Strip upon strip of tape, plastered across my mouth, over my lips and all along my lower jaw make the task impossible.

“And not even those socks are fouler than your mouth. That’ll learn ya.” – he exclaims, guffaws and then triumphantly ambles over to the sofa.


As I lie there, struggling against the relentless zip ties, my body swings about and causes the chair to scrape the floor audibly.

“MMMGGHHHHPPHH!!”

“Ah, shaddap. I’m trying to watch a game here…”


Out of the blue, the doorbell rings. Once, then twice, then incessantly.


“Those must be the cops.” – the man rises from the couch and walks towards the door. – “It was fun to have you around, blondie, come back whenever you please. On second thoughts… if you can’t escape that then you’re never escaping the clink.” – he bursts into hysterical laughter.


The door opens. I lock eyes with the man behind it.


“MMMGHHHH!!” – LANCE!

[Ovi1]

I just finished reading the first two stories, they are both amazing!
Very well written