Net Gains, bondage story

Sod's Law is one of those natural phenomena with which the wise do not tangle - it is utterly immutable. So, whoever he - or it - might be, Sod knows only too well that Jill and I are never happy when apart. It came to pass that Jill must attend a seminar - or one of those things of similar appellation - that required her to leave on Friday, around midday, and not to return until early Tuesday.

No sooner had Jill departed the boundaries of our domain than that device of the Devil shrilled its demanding summons to inform me that my presence was required elsewhere for practically the whole of Tuesday. Thus I knew that, with Jill returning after a four-day absence and being obliged to remain alone for the whole of that day, I would return to find a wife that was Horny as Hell - and both words would start with a capital H!

Imagine my feelings therefore, on arriving early Tuesday evening, to discover Jill preparing to go out. "Sorry, Love ... just can't be helped." I put her down and stood back to look at her. It's my opinion that small hats were made for small women and nothing looks more cute on a little cutie than either a beret or a pill-box-like creation worn cocked to one side - as surely is the birthright of the tiny.

I am useless at describing women's apparel; I know what looks right to me - and I love to look - just as I know what feels right although, of course, the one is concerned with dressing and the other with ... well, you know? She looked just right and, as she stood there tightening the coat-belt around her ridiculously small waist, I had to exercise massive self-restraint to prevent her seizure and immediate abduction. First things must come first, right?

"Don't look so disappointed, darling," she cooed: "It's not the end of the Earth. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"A couple of HOURS? Perhaps I should go back and start over?"

"Well." She looked at me, head tilted to one side, large grey eyes... I couldn't make up my mind whether they were commiserative or twinkling in the way that some times...?

"O.K…" she said: "I won't go for a couple of hours then... but..." With the words she pulled out the belt, dropped it and opened the coat.

My central digit snapped to rigid attention and my bellows stopped working altogether. Apart from the shoes, her coat and that... that hat... ... she was starkers.

"Minx!" I hollered and made what was probably the biggest leap of my life. I'm not going to tell you what happened over the next half-hour.

"How did you like my little surprise?"

"Uh-huh. Very nice indeed - at the end. Very cruel to start. There was I, after a hard day's grind, looking forward to a nice quiet evening with pipe and slippers and a drink by the fire - and what did I get...?"

"Exactly what you expected, I suspect."

"Lady," I said sternly: "Must you pile naughtiness upon wickedness? Vilification on top of disrespect? You lie there in a disgraceful state of nudity and..."

"Do I discern a desire to denigrate; a determination to deflower..."

"Peace, woman. Too many damned D's. I think maybe this is the time to demonstrate to you my latest demonic device for defusing damsels..."

"OK. OK. You win." She leaped nimbly off the bed and presented her wrists crossed behind her back. "Had a bet I could get you."

"A bet? Bet? With whom may I ask?"

"With me, of course. That way I always win."

There was a length of rope that just happened to be lying on the bedside table and it was just the right sort for binding her wrists with utmost security. Then I shouldered her and took her down to the kitchen which, I found, was already laid out for dinner; all I had to do was light the candles so craftily set exactly where I usually put them to improve the view!

She professed difficulty in eating with her hands held behind her back and so I had no alternative but to feed her. I cleared up and then... ah-ha! First - the blindfold. Then I brought out my latest acquisition just awaiting a chance for trial.

I had come on the material by chance wandering around a large store on one of my rare trips to far horizons. Like most man-made materials it was remarkably tough but light and it had the strangest qualities. Depending on the direction from which it was illuminated and also, as I later discovered, on the colour of the light so it would change subtly from reflective to luminescent to partially transparent. I immediately thought of Jill dancing in that jar; what if she wore a veil of that material and I were to arrange a light show around her?

I bought a hefty chunk of it and, in secret, fashioned a veil that would hang from just below her eyes to mid-calf. Through a hem at the top I threaded a fine jewellery-quality steel chain cut to a length determined by laying it against her blindfold. A very-small padlock that I bought many years ago – just because I loved the look of it - fitted that chain as though made to measure. Bad luck, Sod.

Now I offered it to her face, laid it over the bridge of her nose and fastened the lock under her hair. Unbelievably... this time - again - Sod's Law had failed! It was a perfect fit; except with considerable effort she could neither pull it down over her nose nor work it up past her eyebrows.

"James. Just what in hell are you up to?"

"Later. Later. Everything comes to she who waits."

"THAT... is exactly what I'm afraid of."

I marched her out to the hall and roped her to the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. "Wait for me," I said sententiously: "Just got a few things to get ready."

It didn't take long to get the workshop ready. Two dummy runs had enabled me to mark the floor with the positions of each bit of equipment; after a quick test I went to collect her. Halfway back however I called a halt; the effect of the setting sun on that material was electrifying. I walked all round Jill and then had her turn while I stood still:

"What are you up to now?"

"Anxiety. Anxiety. Anyone would think you distrusted me."

"I DO."

If I couldn't get the last word there were other alternatives? I marched her on and then up on to the wooden plinth so patiently awaiting her: "Now don't tell me you still don't know my evil purpose."

"Are you not forgetting, James that I am the one in whom resides the total of our joint intelligence?"

"That remains to be seen. You may live to regret your effrontery."

She wriggled deliciously: "Oh, goody goody."

"I'm going to untie your hands; you know where to put them?" I removed the cord: "NO! NOT there. Above your head."

I lowered the jar until just above her shoulders and then reached in with one hand and removed the blindfold. The modicum of surprise, combined with her giggle, slowed her reaction and so I had time to drop the jar and fix the screws.

"What...?"

"We're going to make a movie," I announced grandly. "The Nautch Girl's Fearful Fate."

"JAMES! WE... are going to do nothing of the sort. Forget it; I've told you... I will not go on display."

"Who said anything about a display. This is strictly for us - you and me. For our eyes only. Just wait until you see what that veil can do."

"Why should I want to see me hidden behind a veil? Are you saying I look better without my so beautiful face?"

"Now you know the answer to that question. Just as you know that I would never let any one else see this except you agreed. But... if you really want to stop this ... "

She stood there and looked at me for what seemed a long time. Between us there was the curving plastic wall of the jar and that enigmatic veil but... I could have sworn that she was grinning? Had she indeed - and I'd bet a fortune that she had -realised that veils have a hundred advantages?

"OK. But ... you're the ultimate in dirty old men!"

I wriggled: "Oh. Goody goody."

Late that night we lay snuggled together as we watched the result of that filming session. Jill would have been her usual naked self except that she still wore the veil; she had demanded the key and then refused either to use it or to part with it: "I can see some distinct advantages in the barbaric way of life," she said: "Just think of all the attention I could get if I walked down Main Street wearing this."

"Absolutely," I agreed: "And first and foremost would be every magistrate in town. But... beware the lady ones."

"You've no idea, " she said earnestly, "what a sense of... freedom... is that the right word? It may be only the slightest feeling... completely silly... but I feel that no one can recognise me. I expect it's different when you are compelled to wear one? But then, inside that pot of yours, where I'm completely safe, dancing nearly made me come..."

I squeezed: "Just watch what you did... hussy."

The film surpassed all my expectations which just goes to show that Sod was having an extremely bad day. Jill danced until the tape ran out while I switched the lighting and tore around changing colour filters. Every so often she rotated inside her cylindrical stage thus causing the light to catch her from every possible angle ... not to mention the light and shade it threw on her writhing pixie-like body. When I finally took her out of the jar she collapsed into my arms and I waited only to retrieve the tape.

After the second playback I longed for sleep but Jill had recovered: she demanded that I tie her hands behind and let her dance in the freedom of the bedroom. "Tomorrow," I pleaded: "I'll wrest the key from you and then you can dance yourself to death... well, nearly there will do." But she would not be still.

At last: "I know just how to satisfy your lustful instincts," I said: "I was keeping this for a rainy day but ... perhaps there is no time like the present after all."

I took my time making the return trip to the workshop because of the possibility that she would be asleep when I got back. I should have known better. "Up on your feet. Face away from me. Hands behind your back."

I held it in both hands, with the little blue tab that marked the front away from me, and raised it over her head. "Stand up straight!" But, even as she stretched upward I snapped it down. As the center caught on the crown of her head I rolled the net down, passed her shoulders, over her breasts, a slight catch on that plump little behind and I was down around her calves before she even knew what was happening. I scooped her up and dropped her on to the bed; she was still bouncing as I pulled on the draw cord and stretched the net bag tightly around her to make a nice tidy brown little package such as you might see netted any day in the supermarket.

I popped her under the covers, turned out the light and climbed in beside her. As I drew her against me she felt more than just warm and squishy - somehow the feel of the net made her very exciting. She squirmed a little as she snuggled closer still: "Ummm. Feels good."

"Now," smugly: "Perhaps we can get some sleep."

For about a minute she remained silent. Then: "Can I ask a question?"

"Only if it's rude."

"Well. There's a hole down the front of my net here. What's it for?"

"Moth."

Another short silence: "Don't moths come from chrysalises?"

"Yeah."

"And the chrysalis is formed by a caterpillar? And it's the caterpillars that make the holes? I can't think of a butterfly that begets a caterpillar that could need a hole this big."

I sat up, switched on the bedside lamp and proceeded to beat her to death with a pillow. Almost as helpless in the net as she was in the jar, she rolled around trying to evade me but only finished up tightly entangled in the bedclothes as well. "Now," I demanded: "Do we get a little peace? Unless you want to spend the night in a combination net and gag and hood?"

"I'll give in!" she gasped.

As we snuggled together again, and after she'd wriggled herself (Oh, boy) into a comfortable position, I started drowsily down the lane to FantasyLand. It occurred to me that I could put Jill, net and all, into the jar! Tomorrow was Saturday! What might that bring? What a girl. The thought wandered into my mind: "Endless possibilities. A whole weekend. Would she use her safeword?

Endless… absolutely endless... confinement... keep her there... whole weekend... jar... net... veil... no... end... end... less... ... ...

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