Bed

"Well, hello, Tina, fancy meeting you. Are you going to come here often?" Chris gurgled with laughter at his own wit. "You can put the book down now, I'll keep you entertained for a while."

He knelt down on the side of the bed and rubbed one of his palms gently against my shoulder. I felt awkward, more or less sitting on my hands and feeling about the same way as I had when I was ten and waiting to be called up on stage to get an award for regular Sunday School attendance. A sort of frozen smile of terminal shyness. And I wished I knew how I was supposed to react to the silly mask he was wearing. He might at least have warned me he was going to play dress-up as well.

"I don't know why you've got that silly thing on for. The only people around here who need to hide their faces are stupid Essendon supporters like me."

Chris laughed: "Don't be impatient, you'll soon meet the fate your bad judgement deserves. Let me show you something I put under the pillow as a suitable treatment for losing fans."

He took out two rings covered in blue fur and I stared at them, wondering what they were. Until I saw the glint of the steel inside them and the chain between both of the rings and I realized they were handcuffs. Then I really began trembling.

"I don't suppose I have to ask what you're going to do with them?"

"No, Tami, there's no point at all. Because I'm going to give you a little touch of a bondage experience while you're being stripped off for the camera. Because that's the sort of thing that happens to losers like you."

"I didn't lose, that useless bloody footie team did," I snapped back. "They're the ones who should be getting locked up."

"Morally, you may be right, Tami. But you're much more fun to chain to a bed, so I don't want any more arguments. Just put your arms up beside your head and get comfortable because you're going to be in the same position for a while."

I still couldn't take it on board that it was really happening, not even when the steel rings underneath the fur were snapped shut around my wrists. Only when I tried to move my arms again and found them trapped behind the bed head did it finally sink in that this was it. Bondage, restraint -- call it what you liked, it meant that I was helpless to stop Chris doing whatever he wanted with me.

Phil moved closer to the bed with his camera up to his face. "Can we open things up a wee bit here?"

I didn't know what he meant but Chris nodded. "Sure. Right, slut, open your legs and show yourself off. We want to see how fuckable you can look when you try."

His voice suddenly sounded sharp and angry and I felt I had to obey, shyly moving my legs apart as Phil aimed his camera at the trashy tart's knickers I'd had to put on with the lingerie.

"There's a good little girl," Chris said, his voice less emotional. "You just keep on doing exactly as you're told and we'll have a good time."

Then he began undoing the ribbons on my top. "Time to show off your tits, Tami. Time to show them off and have them felt, and that's what I'm going to do. I can do whatever I like with you now. All you get to do is to say 'yes, sir' and 'no, sir'. And that's what you've been waiting for, isn't it?"

"That's not true."

Chris shook his head as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing: "Whatever you say, bimbo. It doesn't make any difference now, anyway. So let's see what we've got here."