‘Excuse me, but could I ask your opinion about something. How do you think I’d look in these?’ I continued without pausing for breath, ‘You see, I usually wear black panties, but I thought it was time for a change.’ I paused and smiled at him.
‘Er—' His face was purple with embarrassment. I took a step closer to him.
‘So, would you rather see me in black panties, or white panties?’
‘White,’ he managed in a croak.
‘Good. I bet you’ve got an erection now, haven’t you,’ I said, still smiling.
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
I took another step towards him and whispered in his ear. ‘Well, if I were you, I’d sneak off to the toilets and relieve yourself. And you can think about me wearing white panties while you do it. OK?’
‘He nodded. ‘Yes Miss.’
‘Good boy.’ I turned and walked off to the checkouts, feeling his gaze on my bottom as I went.
*****
Back at the house, I went straight to the kitchen, threw the bag from the store into the recycling and cut the tags off the panties with a pair of scissors from the kitchen drawer. I held up one of the pairs and hooking my fingers under the waistband I stretched it gently, testing the amount of give in it. I was satisfied. ‘They’ll do,’ I said to myself. I went along the hallway and stopped outside Trudy’s bedroom door. Everything was quiet. I twisted the door knob slowly and opened the door a few inches. There was no one there. She had followed her usual routine and gone to college. Quickly, I slipped into the room and opened her underwear drawer. I ran my hand across the soft contents, enjoying the gentle touch of the material on my skin. Under normal circumstances I would have liked to have a proper look, but this wasn’t the time. I folded the lacy knickers carefully and placed them side by side on top of Trudy’s collection. It was perfect, no one opening the drawer could possibly miss them. Satisfied, I closed the drawer and let myself out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.
The trap was set.
Chapter 6 – The Underwear Trap
The rest of the morning was spent in the library, catching up on the part of the lecture I’d missed the day before. Trying not to think of the afternoon I copied out the lecture notes I’d borrowed, glancing up at the wall clock, or down at my cell phone every few minutes to check the time. And the more I checked, the slower the time seemed to pass. At twelve, I packed up my stuff and, waving to the bored looking librarian standing behind the desk, I left. Still too early to go home, so I bought a take away coffee and a salad roll and I sat on a bench under a tree near the entrance to the college and watched the students drifting in and out. At twelve-thirty I drank the last mouthful of coffee, screwed up the paper cup and threw it in the bin next to the bench. It was time.
Back home I let myself in as quietly as I could, keeping the door handle twisted as I closed it so it wouldn’t click. I lowered my bag carefully to the floor and I listened—nothing.
I checked the living room and kitchen, but they were empty. Then I tiptoed down the hallway and checked Francis’s room, but it was empty, too. Then I went into Trudy’s room. It looked exactly the same as it had when I’d been there this morning. Carefully, I slid opened her underwear drawer. A thrill of excitement went through me—the white, lace panties I’d left there earlier had gone.
Back in the hallway, I stood outside the closed door to Jess’s room and listened. Still nothing. Then I heard it—a little grunt of frustration, followed by another. I smiled and nodded to myself. The trap was sprung.
I opened the door and walked in. There, on the bed, was Jess. She was naked, face down, with her hands tied behind her back and her feet, tied at the ankles, drawn up behind her and tied to her wrists. I believe the technical term is hogtied. As I entered the room she turned her head and stared at me, wide eyed, over the white lace panties that were wrapped around her head as a gag. ‘Ed me oug og here.’
I sat down on the bed next to her and she started struggling against her bondage. I shook my head. ‘Nice work,’ I said, checking her out. Her wrists had been pushed into the other pair of lace panties which had been twisted into a tight figure of eight loop. In the centre of the figure of eight, between her wrists, was length of cord with a knot, pulled tight, on the end. The other end was attached to the cord binding her ankles together. A third length of chord was tied around her knees.
I stroked her head gently and she growled at me, struggling again for a second before again giving up. I shifted slightly so I could look her straight in the eyes, then I reached out and slipped the gag from her mouth.
‘Get me out of here, you stupid bitch. We’ve had burglars. Look what they’ve done to me, I need to—‘ I held up a hand to silence her.
‘First of all, you tie your ankles and knees together. Then you put a cinch knot in one end of another piece of rope and tie the other end to your ankle tie.’ I pointed to the various ties as I explained, as if I was a lecturer explaining a particular methodology. I continued, ‘Then you twist the panties around to make a tight figure of eight and you slip the cinch around them. And then it’s easy. ‘You lie face down, you put your hands behind your back and push them through the panties. And then you pull back with your feet and the cinch tightens. And there you are, naked and tied up, and very, very excited. True?’
She shook her head again. ‘No, I told you—‘
‘But you forgot the first rule of self bondage, Jess. Always have a way of getting out. Just in case. And a gag is not a good idea. Too dangerous.’ I pulled the panties she’d used for a gag off her and held them up for inspection. ‘I know it’s exciting to use someone else’s panties, and they work quite well, but you see, up to now you’ve been using cotton ones.’ I stretched them between my hands. ‘But these are lace, and lace doesn’t stretch like cotton.’ I stretched them further, exerting more and more force. They moved a little way and then they stopped, the waist band almost string like under the tension. ‘They don’t have the give in them. And I know they look all delicate and feminine but they have hidden strength. A bit like some women.’
‘And so here you are,’ I finished.
‘Please untie me,’ she said, a new tone in her voice.
‘Soon,’ I said. ‘I think you’re rather enjoying this really. Aren’t you?’ She opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again.
‘Yes, I thought so. You see, I used to be into self bondage when I was younger, so I know all about it, and that’s how I recognised what had been done with Trudy’s knickers when she showed us, although I have to say you were bottom of my list of suspects.’ I reached out and rand a finger across her bottom. ‘First of all I thought it was probably Trudy herself. Have you ever wondered why she always wears long sleeved tops? Well I thought it might be because she had marks on her wrists.’ The memory of making love with Trudy in the shower reared up in my mind. ‘But it wasn’t that at all.’ I parted her cheeks slightly and ran a finger down between them. She gasped slightly as I did it.
‘So then I thought it must be Francis. So I asked him while he was distracted by something else, but it wasn’t him either. So it had to be you.’
I stopped talking. She looked at me, opened her mouth to speak, shut it again and then turned away and stared at the bed. Her lip trembled.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I’ll untie you if you like, and I promise I won’t say anything to either of the others. But I’m not sure you really want to be untied, do you?’
‘No,’ she admitted.
Chapter 7 – Sub/Dom or Dom/Sub?
‘No,’ she repeated, still staring at the bedclothes a couple of inches in front of her face. She shook her head as she said it, as if she was trying to deny it as she was saying it. I reached out and stroked her head, pulling a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
‘Sexual preference is a funny thing you know,’ I said. I moved to the top of the bed and made myself comfortable on the pillows. ‘Look at me,’ I ordered.
Her eyes, normally so bossy and hard, were soft and filled with shame. ‘You have nothing to be ashamed of. Sexually, you are what you are. Accept yourself. I adjusted my position slightly, sliding my bottom down the bed and wriggling my shoulder to get the pillows into a better position.
‘Let me tell you about myself,’ I continued. ‘I came home from college for the last summer break a virgin who’d had a crush on the boy next day for as long as I can remember. And then, one day when I was bored and alone at home, I dressed up as a dominatrix—my sister’s black leather boots, black panties, I even had a cane—and I let myself into next door and went up to Dean’s bedroom.’
‘Dean?’
‘The boy I’d always fancied.’
‘Oh. And what happened?’
‘Nothing,’ I laughed. ‘Nothing at first. You see he wasn’t there. No one was. It was all pretend, a bit like self bondage. I just wandered around his room and fantasised. And that would have been the end of it—but then he came home.’
‘Oh god, what did you do?’ In her interest she seemed to have momentarily forgotten her own state of bondage.
I laughed. ‘I hid in his wardrobe, but then the door swung open and he found me there.’
‘And what did he do?’
‘He made love to me. My first time. I can remember every detail. You do, don’t you.’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And that might have been it, if I hadn’t seen him look at me. He looked at my cane and my boots, and I just knew. He wanted it, and I realised that I did too. So I made him kneel on the bed and I gave him a really hard caning. And I’ve been caning him ever since. Plus a few others I’ve met along the way.’
‘But then why did you let me spank you?’ Her voice was puzzled.
I thought for a moment before answering. ‘Partly because I’d been drinking the first time and I’m naturally sexually adventurous, especially after a few white wines. And partly because I quite fancied you . . . I’m mostly straight but I enjoy women too.’
‘Bi-curious?’
I shrugged ‘Maybe, who knows.’
‘And finally, I did it because although you’ve been a bossy cow, this is too good a place to have to leave, so I wanted to keep you on-side.’
Her face crumpled slightly. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘That’s all right. I think that bit is over now, don’t you?’ She nodded, and wriggled slightly, as if to remind herself of her bondage.
‘So, now we come to you. You act all bossy and dom, but you get turned on by self bondage and by Trudy’s panties. You know what I think? I think you’re sort of a mirror image of me.’
‘How?’
I leant forward and idly checked the panties stretched around her thin wrists in their soft, feminine, but implacable grip. ‘Well I’m a dominatrix who enjoys doing a bit of submission now and again. Whereas you are more than likely a natural submissive who acts like a dominatrix on the surface. I bet you fantasise about being a slave, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was now just a whisper, and her gaze had dropped again. ‘I want to kneel naked in front of you . . . Please.’
I shook my head. ‘No, not me. Think about it. Why didn’t you steal my underwear?’ She thought about it for a few seconds.
‘Trudy,’ she said, simply.
‘Yes, Trudy.’
‘But she’s not what I really want. She’s . . . she’s soft.’
I thought back to the men’s showers and Trudy pushing me down onto my knees in front of her. ‘I don’t think she’s quite what you . . . what either of us . . . thought.’
I jumped up from the bed. ‘Tell you what, let’s ask her. I left her lying there and went to the front door, thumbing my mobile as I went. By the time I opened it, Trudy was waiting outside. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ I said by way of explanation. ‘Come on.’
Chapter 8 – Trudy the Dominatrix
‘A surprise?’ she asked, as I shut the door behind us. ‘What sort of surprise?’
‘Well, when I texted you earlier and asked you to wait down the street I thought I might have solved your missing panties mystery. But I wasn’t going to know until I’d got back here.’
‘And have you? Tell me, please.’
I nodded. ‘Yes. Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’
I led the way back to Jess’s bedroom, and stood aside at the door. ‘Oh my god,’ she said, freezing in the doorway, staring at the naked and bound Jess. ‘Did you do this to her?’
‘No, of course not. She did it to herself. And she used your panties to do it.’
Trudy went over to the bed and examined Jess’s bonds. ‘But these aren’t my panties.’
‘No, sorry, what I meant was that she thought she was using your panties to do it—I bought them this morning and put them in the top of your underwear drawer. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist them.’ It was interesting, but we were acting as if Jess wasn’t even in the room. So far, Trudy hadn’t addressed a single word to her.
‘Self bondage,’ I said. ‘It’s exciting to use panties belonging to someone you fancy, but you have to be careful. Cotton has just enough give to let you work your way out of it . . . usually. But lace, well it doesn’t have any give at all. Pull it tight and it acts like a piece of rope.’
‘How do you know so much about it?’
‘I went through a phase.’ But Jess forgot the first rule. Always have a way of getting free, whatever it is you’re using. A pair of scissors that you can reach somewhere nearby is ideal. It’s dangerous not to. I pointed at Jess. ‘Or at the very least, exceedingly embarrassing.’
I picked up the other pair of panties that I’d removed from Jess’s head. ‘Oh, and never try to gag yourself. It’s just too dangerous.’
It occurred to me again that it was funny how we could both act as if the tied up Jess wasn’t there. The ropes seemed to do something, to make her an object we could ignore or not, depending on what we felt like. Trudy sat down on the bed next to the bound and naked young woman, where I’d been shortly before, and she examined the twisted panties and the cord attached to them. Thoughtfully she ran a finger along the cord to where it was attached to its sister that was wrapped round and round Jess’s ankles. Finally she checked the cord holding Jess’s knees tightly together, examining the knot and testing to see just how tight the bond was. ‘You need to be careful not to cut off your circulation too,’ she said, finally.
Jess turned and raised her head from where she was still staring at the bed, and their eyes met for the first time. Her familiar glare ignited for a second, then it faded and died and, her face reddening, she turned back to stare at the bed once more.
*****
‘She has a nice body,’ Trudy said. ‘But she’s usually a bossy cow and she has it in for me, so why is she tying herself up with my underwear.’
‘Good questions. And here’s what I think. First, people aren’t always what they seem. And sometimes people go over the top to act the opposite to how they really feel inside. I’m sure there’s a proper word for it—“overcompensating” maybe?’
‘You mean she acts all dom because she’s really—‘
‘Yes. Look at her. She’s not said a word since we came into the room, and she won’t look at us. Plus, look at the way she’s breathing. I’ll bet that if we checked her nipples they’d be like bullets, and her pussy would be soaking. This is probably the kind of thing she fantasises about in bed at night when she’s masturbating.’
‘And stealing my panties?’
‘Think about it. She wants to be a submissive so she acts like an uber-dominatrix. And she’s got the incredible hots for a girl she lives with and is ashamed of it—next best thing, she steals her knickers and gets her rocks off with them.’
‘I always washed them and put them back,’ a third voice spoke quietly. We both jumped, and then we turned to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added, still looking down at the bed. Trudy reached out and, carefully at first, as if
she thought it might be red hot, she stroked Jess’s head.
‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘It’s all right, look at me.’ Jess turned her head and their eyes met for a second time. Tears were welling up in Jess’s eyes. ‘I want to kneel naked in front of you,’ she said. The words tumbled out in a long string, and I wondered for how long she’d been holding them in. I imagined her standing unseen, watching Trudy in the kitchen or the living room, and nearly saying them, but losing her nerve and returning to her bedroom to lie unhappily on her bed.
I ran across the hall to my bedroom and returned with a pair of nail scissors. ‘You want to let her go?’
‘I suppose we’d better.’ I held out the scissors. ‘She’s your submissive, not mine. Better get used to it.’
‘Mm.’ Trudy slid the open blade of the scissors under the taut waist band of the knickers. It sprang apart, releasing its captive’s arms from behind her back. A bit more scissor work and her ankles and knees were free too. Jess uttered a little moan of pleasure as she moved for the first time in over an hour and sat, naked, on the edge of her bed, rubbing her wrists.
‘Thank you.’
Chapter 9 – Jess’s First Caning
‘You’d better get down on your knees then,’ I said, gesturing at Trudy, who was standing there. She now had a speculative look on her face and she was studying the naked Jess, like a trainer assessing a thoroughbred racehorse. I noticed that Jess had not missed the examination she was being given, and she got up from the bed and sank to knees in front of her new mistress.
The Mystery of the Missing Panties Page 3