A woman put into bondage by another woman goes through the same stages as grief. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.
The Leather Worker – Chapter 1
Denial, Anger and Bargaining.
My name is Marie.
I am lying on the bed in Jacki’s room. How did I get here?
Jacki is my roommate in my house. I rented to her a year ago, because I had inherited the three-story structure from my folks and owned the house outright. I found I still needed to offset some of the costs of the taxes each year. So, I had done a few things to bump up the basement to apartment status so the fire marshal wouldn’t hassle me, and she appeared two days after I placed an ad for a tenant. She seemed OK and I needed her rent check to pay the county and state so I let her take the downstairs apartment.
I did not really regret it.
We had been housemates for almost a year now. She was a leather worker, make belts, bags and other accessory stuff and worked art showsin the counties around the house along with having a website to sell her stuff and attending the odd renaissance fair with specialty leather clothing. She is pretty talented actually. Good designs, well thought out and unique.
We got along OK, emotionally, culturally and physically. I thought she as kind of tough, perhaps tougher than my own more delicious sensitivities might have gone towardss, but not so tough as we could not get along fairly well.
Not too much drama between us or hurt feelings over time, so I counted my blessings.
Neither of us was in a relationship, though I had the odd lover come home with me to help me get my rocks off, they never stayed longer than a couple weeks and there were never any of my men hanging around screwing things up between us with their Testosterone and male bullshit.
As for Jacki. She might have slipped someone into her basement apartment now and then, but to be frank, I had never seen it and did not know if she had any boyfriends at all. Ultimately it could have been a lot worse arrangement for a forty-seven-year-old half hippie chick like Jacki and a thirty-three-year-old single secretary like me.
Then Tuesday happened.
I had cleaned out the dryer of a load of laundry.
I was getting ready for work and in a hurry. I realized that my underwear drawer was completely empty and that when the load was done that none of my knickers had gotten cleaned with it. An oversight. There was a pair of Jacki’s in the basket though. A pair of nylon black ones with a little bow at the center of the wait. I really had to get to work so I just took them on impulse and wore them instead. No big deal, right?
Wrong.
When I got home, Jacki was waiting.
“Whe are my panties, bitch!” She said as soon as I saw her. It sounded vicious. Out of general character.
“I…uhh… I’m wearing them.” I replied, contritely, but perhaps too lightly. “I needed…”
She held out her hand.
“Give them back…now!” She ordered.
I did not like being ordered like that and especially not in that tone. You know how it is. Someone who doesn’t even say ‘please.’ No niceties like good manners, just demands. You are inclined to dig your heels in.
“Look…you don’t have to be rude like this. I’ll give them back. Just give me minute.”
She stared at me, blocking my movement to move past her.
“Come with me!” She demanded. It was preemptory, I could have refused as I was getting pretty insulted, but there was a tiny amount of guilt in the back of my mind too, I was wearing her property and had not asked permission after all. I was a little self-conscious too. Jacki is lean and tall, maybe five ten or eleven, with this shock of tangled black hair that flies around her head she walks fast. Her narrow hips swinging side to side in her loose summer dress only emphasized her tightness. I am smaller than her at five-five, shorter for sure and wider across the hips andbutt. I had found the fit of her underwear tight on me all day at work. Feeling them creeping up between my buttocks and into my outer labia a bit too. I was concerned that when she did finally get them back, they would be stretched, a little smelly and might not fit her properly anymore after I wore them.
She stalked downstairs to her apartment. To be frank, I had gone down there about two months after she moved to check a circuit breaker, but I had not been down into her apartment since. As we walked along the corridor and into her living-space she was ten steps ahead. I was rarely curious. She went into what I knew to be her living room, holding the door open for me from behind it. As I walked in, I wasn’t surprised to see that her furnishings were austere, consistent basically of two big plus leather chairs and a big Persian carpet with a couple lamps.
I paused, waiting I think for her to walk past me and talk to me. She didn’t.
Instead, something flashed past my vision from top of bottom and I felt something on my belly and back.
“Wha…:” Was all I had time to say. It happened so fast.
Then I felt this tightening around me. A constriction. I looked down. This wide leather belt was across my belly and disappeared around my arms. I could feel it at the base of my back above my buttocks. It had tightened! I tried to raise my arms, but the belt, running across my elbows, pinned my arms to my sides.
I couldn’t believe it. This couldn’t have happened!
“Wait! What are you doing!” I jerked my arms now pinned to me. In denial that such a thing was happening. Agog with denial. Helpless with denial for a moment. She was still behind me. I felt the belt get even tighter. I struggled some more. I managed to understand one of my arms more across my front a bit, then it tightened again and pinned it there. I could move my hands about some, but could not really raise my arms up since my elbows were blocked by stiff leather. I wriggled my whole body then. My middle was firmly encased in tough thick leather.
“Jacki. Stop!” I plead, still not believing what was happening.
She snorted, and I felt this tiny amount of additional tightening. She was somehow adjusting straps on the leather behind me. I stomped my foot and went to spin to confront her. She was back there doing something and by the time I half turned she stepped away to the wall beside the door.
I staggered around a bit more and glared over at her. She was untying this rope from a cleat she had mounted on the wall, but I was too angry to really notice and just shouted at her.
“What are you doing? You can’t do this!” My last denial. I had shouted it. Now I was suddenly angry. Blazing hot anger flared in me. “Jacki! What are you doing, damit!” I compromised again and fought that leather belt. Jerking and tugging with all my might. “Take this thing off me! You’ve got to let me go!” I demanded.
Jacki faced me. She smiled.
“Too late for that, Marie! We have gotten along well until today. You took my property. Things have changed.”
I took a step towards her. I got about two feet from her.
I should have been paying more attention to what she had been doing with the rope.
She gritted her teeth a bit and pulled down hard on the rope in her hands. I felt that dammed leather belt that went around me pull me up short. Then I felt this continuous pressure pulling it backward under her weight on that rope. Jacki was pulling that rope hand over hand while I watched.
Things were happening so fast I had not really come to my senses. I looked up to see the rope leave her hands, pass through three pulleys fixed to a heavy exposed beam up near the ceiling and then go down behind me! She pulled again. I was dragged back more. The rope was attached to the back of the belt! There was nothing I could do.
“Jacki. Stop! You are scaring me!” I spat. I keep my straight blond hair cut about two inches above my shoulders. Now I came to regret that length because the rope pulled me back further. I dug in my feet to try and get some traction to charge her again, but all I did was help since she tightened Mr. Rope some more and I was now leaning slightly forward and my hair fell from behind my ears and covered my face blocking my vision and confusing me. I shook my head to clear it. My hair remained in a curve across my face.
“Jakie. Let me go! Dammit! Get this mess off me.” I shook my head to clear my vision better, seeing her tying the rope back off to the clean by the door. I was half hanging by that damned leather belt now. I had to make her come to her senses. “Jacki! Jacki!” I almost yelled the last in a curse.
She walked right past me. I was almost up on my tiptoes. I had to turn myself Carefully using the toes of my shoes. I failed. One of my thick soled work shoes fell off then as I tried this maneuver. I looked down. It was lying on its side. Standing on the remaining wedge I reached out with the stockinged toe and tried to get my foot to go back into it.
Suddenly Jacki was there behind me again at floor level. Her arms snaked around my calves and wrapped them up tight. I cried out, teatering on my single remaining shoes. I felt something on my ankles and tried to kick, but she hung on like a barnacle, preventing me from moving an ankle. I heard a jingling sound. Felt something tighten on my ankle. On both my ankles! She was tying them together!
I rocked side to side frantically.
“Jacki! Stop it! Stop this now! What are you doing!” I cried. Suddenly she was gone. I looked down. She had put some kind of leather strap around my ankles, fixing them together. It finally came together in my head. I was being methodically bound. Made helpless.
I screamed out loud. Jackie wasn’t letting me go. I bargained with the universe.
“Help!” I cried to the universe. “Help! Someone is tying me up! Help me! You’ve got to stop her!”
It balanced there on my single shoe and looked about frantically.
I tried to look around behind me. To see Jacki. She was somewhere back there.
Then she wasn’t. She was suddenly beside me. Kneeling. I caught a glimpse of her. She had some more leather in her hand.
“Jacki! You have to stop…this Look. Look. Let’s talk, OK? I bargained with her. Trying to sound Reasonable. To negotiate with her. I can’t get out of this thing, OK! You have done it. You got me. Well done! You’ve got your revenge for me borrowing your panties without permission. I apologize… OK? I’ll make you a deal. How about you just take all this off me and we’ll say no more about?”
I felt her fumbling with my right hand. I had no idea what she was doing, I tried to jerk it free from her grip, but I realized it wasn’t her hand that gripped me. She stood up and pulled upward with both her hands and I felt my own hand nestle into leather, my fingers bending until my hand was in a fist. Jacki fiddled with Velcro sounds and snapping sounds below my vision when I finally realized fully that my hand was now encased in leather too. I could not open my fist! My fingers were in a ball. Held there by leather. My fingers trapped in a fist.
“Jacki. No! NO! Take this stuff off me! I apologize. We can forget all about this. I get it! You are angry! I am sure I can make it up to you!” I negotiated usefully, jerking my body around inside that wicked leather belt. She just grinned at me. I found myself tearing up a little. Frustrated in my anger. I moved my right hand and realized I could only move it few inches front to back and basically not at all up or down. I leaned to the side and looked. Some kind of leather tube or pouch surrounded my fist. It was featureless and closed at my wrist. A leather strap around my wrist held it in place. It means I basically no longer had fingers as they were bunched up and my entire hand was encased in the stiff leather. I wriggled it about, grunting with effort. She had clearly fixed the… the leather tube thing to a ring on the bottom of the wide leather belt that pinned my arm there to my side.
I stood still. She was standing by my other side.
I looked over at her. I was scared. I was breathing hard.
“Jacki.” I said, trying desperately to sound reasonable, though my voice quavered from the effort of trying not to blubber. “You don’t have to do this. You have made your point. You have me… secured. In your leather work. Is this come kind of prank? Are you shitting me. Are you shitting me!” I yelled this last bit because I felt yet another tube of leather slide up and over my free hand. I frantically waved it from side to side to interfere, but she pulled inexorably upward and eventually that hand was left in a fist and encased in leather too.
My ankles were tied. I my hands secured in bags to the bottom fo the belt that pinned my arms across my elbows. The belt was secured to the ceiling.
Suddenly frantic to escape or at least protest. I jerked, tugged and wriggled about in my thick leather restraints. Straining to find some weakness. There was none. Leather creaked, but showed no sign of giving. My elbows locked to my sides. Hands useless. Jacki knew her material and business. I was helpless. Her prisoner.
Tears ran down my cheeks at the end of this struggle. I sniffled and snuffled. I stared at her. A picture of misery, I am sure. Sad. Depressed. My long-time tenant would not listen to me. Had tied me up in leather. I blubbered a bit. Oddly, Jackie showed up beside me again with a Kleenex and wiped my eyes, face and nose. I stood there. Helpless. And let her. Pressing my cheese against her palm as she let me blow my snot into the tissue. I hung there in her leather prison.
She moved her hand and saw she had another length of leather in it. Maybe three or four inches wide. I could not be sure as it was just a glimpse. I wriggled in alarm. She was behind me againand I felt her fumbling at the base of my spine. It took me a second, too late I realized she had unsnapped my business skirt and unzipped it.
“Jacki!” I cried anew as I felt her tug the skirt over my wide hips and down to fall around my feet. I sniffled. Feeling sorry for myself. Then I felt her grab my panty hose and pull that off my butt and down to my ankles. I wronged. “No. Jacki! Please. Please. Stop! Don’t undress me. Stop STRIPPING me!”
If I had thought the bond was weird, the act of her starting to unclothe me had tripled how weird it felt now.
She stood in front of me with a big pair of shears. She snapped the scissors a couple times to intimidate me, then knelt in front of me and I felt her cutting the panty hose remnants away. A moment later she stood in front of me again and methodically she began to cut my blouse off me.
“No! Jacki. Please. This is one of my best blooms! Don’t! Don’t cut it!” I was crying again. A girl loves her clothes. Hatesto see them trashed. Eventually my blouse was gone. She looked into my teary eyes and wet chefs then. She looked… haughty, I thought. Then she started on my bra. A couple snips and my straps were gone. None too gently, she grabbed the elastic around the center gore between the under cups of my bra and with effort, snipped it through so she was able to pull my bra remnants away. My breasts hung out. Mine are biggish. Jacki’s are perky, compact things. Mine hang down at a twenty-degree angle and big round areolas. Men love them. This was a woman.
In the way of women, I had always envied Jacki her neighbor breasts, a handful that stand out straight. I imagine other women envy me mine because they fill up a bra cup and spill out the top for cleavage. I didn’t envy myself at that moment. They half hung over that wide leather strap around my middle. My nipples were erect. In fear, I think. I was having difficult breathing properly. Tight leather encased my lower lungs and abdomen. I felt fear at being bound and now fear at being stripped. And a tiny bit of fear at Jacki seeing me with my breasts out while she herself was still dressed. Women hate to be at a disadvantage. I think I blubbered some more then.
Jacki held up big scissors and snapped them again. I while and jerked on something leather.
She reached down to my hip. I tried to hop on my one shoed foot in a circle away. I moved a couple inches.
Jacki ‘tsked,’ grabbed a buckle on the wide belt around me to hold me still, then slide the scissors into the elastic of the panties and I held still, feeling cold steel of the back side of the snips against my thigh. Then she cut and I felt the tightness of that pair of panties give on that side. She reached over with the scissors and I felt another snip and their grip relaxed entirely. She had cut my panties through on both hips!
With my feet tied together and standing as I was, the remains of the panties were still clenched between my tights.
“Please, Jacki!” I begged tearily.
“I want my panties back!” She spoke. A reminder that the panties she had cut were her own. I humng my head.
I felt her fingers fumbling about. Her knuckles actually brushed across my cliporis and the top of my slit. I jerked and groaned as she roughly dragged the material out of my crotch across my labia.
She held the Still up in front of my face. Their hips cut through.
The crotch piece hanging.
I stared at them.
Jacki smiled desperately.
“My panties.” She said, waving them a bit. “My panties! Bad girl!” Then she did something that truly stunned me. I literally gaped at her as she reached up under the hem of her dress. She hooked her fingers into the hips of a pair of white, silken looking panties she was wearing and slid them down to step out of them. Then held them up. “My panties too. Nice contrast. The black and the white. Now I give them both to you. I give them to you. Not you stealing them.” Shesaid calmly. She stepped up and put her face close to my face. “Enjoy them. You are welcome to the present.”
Her hand appeared and she began to cram the pair I had forgotten all day into my mouth. I shouted and rolled my head around on my neck desperately to defeat this effort, but she had clamped her other hand on the back of my skull and held it firm as she shoved the panty material in. I moaned and then chased a bit as some material ticked the back of my throat. She used her fingers to fill my cheek on one side, packing it with panties. Then she began to pack the other cheek with the second pair.
I began to grunt my protests around the growing mound of material in my mouth.
“Uhh! Uhhh!! Mooh! Mooh! Dop! Acki! Acki, Moohhhhh!” I wriggled my body and compromised side to side. Jerking my head with all my might against her hands.
She just smiled and kept packing, pressing her body against my own. With the wide belt, the rope at the back and my bound ankles I coulddo little except lean on her thigh and grunt violently in protest.
In the end, she got all the panty material in my mouth. She had been some thoughtful, keeping only the crotches facing my throat so I couldn’t swallow or pick on loose bits. I tried to push them out with my tongue. Then she put her hand over my mouth to hold them in there, stepped behind me and as I rolled my head forward using my tongue to work on fighting the panty material out of my mouth, she dropped a circle of leather over my head. It had some kind of plastic piece that fit into my mouth a couple inches, like the mouthpiece of a snorkel. She must had speed buckles of some kind on the back, because I felt it tighten in an instant and then tighten again with swift tugs that pulled my head back. Holding the panties in my mouth.
She slapped my ass a few more times. I grunted and moaned.
“Uhhhh!” I yelled and began firtating frantically. Shaking my hands in their little bags. “Uh! Uh! Op! Op!Et me oooh!” I wriggled about in my leather. Protesting with my body, what had happened to my mouth.
She kept adjusting the leather gag around my head. It was shoving the panties into my mouth Deeper. I could not spit them out. The wide piece of leather muffled my cries through the panties. My eyes were wide open. Bulging out of my head. I finally stopped. Went Still.
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