
Felix Dartmouth (C)
Felix@cld9.sccsi.com
Archives BBS
1-713-896-1721

From: "An Easy Job"

     She went to the skyscraper and was ushered into a large office 
with a spectacular view.  There were three men to meet her, who, 
after exchanging pleasantries, got down to business.  The eldest, 
who introduced himself as John Griffs, spoke as follows: 
     "Miss Ryan, we have been asked to help execute the following 
disposition of a debt.  You are the repayment.  Your compensation, 
which you have already accepted is believed to be adequate.  You 
will spend the weekend in Mexico, at the vacation home of the man 
to whom the debt is owed.  Please understand that during the 
disposition of this debt, your freedom will be severely limited, 
taken away, in fact.  That is part of the price that the creditor 
demands.  Your freedom is, in effect, the offering for the 
repayment of this debt, and that is what you have been paid for." 
     This Mexico business sounded interesting to her, but it 
sounded like she was livestock that was being bought and sold!  She 
kept reminding herself that she had been paid $4,500.00, but it 
seemed ever less a sum.  She began to wonder just what her 'loss of 
freedom' meant. 
     "In short, we three have been engaged to complete the 
following contract," he said.  "I will read what's written." 
     Stacy instinctively crossed her arms over her breasts. 

                               ************** 

      I will accept as payment a young woman delivered to me on the 
following terms: She is to be transported in bondage to my house.  
Her wrists are to be crossed and tied firmly behind her back.  She 
must wear no coat or jacket.  A longer rope is to tie her arms to 
her side.  It should pass over and under her breasts.  A gag should 
be strapped around her neck for easy application in case of 
recalcitrance.  A nine inch hobble should separate her ankles. 

The woman will in no way be harmed or otherwise mistreated.  Her 
sexual honor will be respected. 

She is to be delivered before 8:00 at night on Friday, and she may 
be picked up at 10:00 Sunday night. 

                              *************** 

Felix Dartmouth (C)
Felix@cld9.sccsi.com
Archives BBS
1-713-896-1721


     Stacy could barely react to what she heard.  It really did not 
sound that ominous to her, just strange. 
     "I don't understand why I have to be bound." 
     "That's why this assignment brings in four and a half grand.  
The instructions are very specific.  The restraints are in this 
briefcase, and we have already received instructions as to how they 
are to be applied.  We are pleased that you have not worn a coat.  
Better start getting you trussed up now." 
     "Is it absolutely necessary, that I be tied up now?"  asked 
Stacy, "I mean, couldn't you just fly me over there and then tie me 
up when we get there?" 
     "Miss Ryan, in order for this to be carried out according to 
the contract, we must attest that it has been executed exactly as 
ordered.  I trust you understand.  Our instructions are specific, 
and we have been given the restraints exactly as indicated.  In 
this attache' case we have one rope that is about four feet long.  
This must be for your hands.  Then this one, well this one looks 
about twelve feet long, so it must be for your upper arms.  Yes, 
that should go around you several times.  Here is a thin short 
length.  This must be for your legs.  Thin, but strong enough to 
hold you, I'll warrant." 
     Stacy thought for a moment, as the man held the four foot 
length in his hands.  It was no wonder that she received $4,500.00, 
but a weekend in Mexico with an eccentric millionaire?  That didn't 
sound too bad.  "Will it be very uncomfortable being bound on the 
trip to Mexico?" she asked. 
     "The flight is only two and a half hours, and while we will 
bind you according to the instructions, we will try not to make it 
too uncomfortable." 
     "Well, OK, I'll play along," she stood up and walked over to a 
mirror and regarded herself and the men behind her.  She noted her 
good figure, and the pretty picture her blonde hair and light blue 
blouse made.  She saw in the mirror that the man who held the rope 
was moving towards her.  Sighing, she folded her arms behind her.  
The man repositioned them so that crossed, and began to bind them 
expertly.  The rope was tight, but it did not impede the 
circulation.  She watched herself in the mirror loose her physical 
freedom and she noted how the changed position of her arms improved 
her posture and the appearance of her figure. 
     When he had finished, he set to work on her legs.  They were, 
per instruction, hobbled.  While he did this, she sought to turn 
around in the mirror to examine her bound hands.  The rope was 
apparent, but it appeared a part of the cuffs of her wrists.  Her 
ankles were hobbled, so that she could walk, but she must have a 
care, lest she fall. 
     The longer rope was taken around her elbows, over her breasts, 
across her back, under her breasts, and over her breasts again.  
The rope was looped through her arms to cinch her arms to her side.  
This, coupled with the bondage of her hands, was quite restrictive. 
     "There is one more item in the attache' case," he said as he 
pulled out something that Stacy had never seen before.  It was a 
ball gag.  He wrapped Saran Wrap around it and moved toward her.  
Before she had a chance to protest, it was behind her teeth and was 
buckled behind her neck. 
     The man had a bit of a hard time getting her long, curly 
blonde hair from under the gag strap. 
     Stacy bucked and heaved in protest, and tried to push the 
offending ball out with her tongue.  The ball extended, but when 
the effort became too great, it sank back deeply into her mouth.  
She was breathing hard through her nostrils from the effort.  She 
was now very concerned about her disposition.  Sure, if everything 
that they said was true, the $4,500.00 was not too bad for a 
weekend.  But what if this were permanent?  What if she were going 
to be sold as a slave overseas!  She knew the next step would be to 
put her on a jet.  They said it was to Latin American, but how 
could she tell?  What could she do anyway? 

Felix Dartmouth (C)
Felix@cld9.sccsi.com
Archives BBS
1-713-896-1721

     These thoughts were racing through her mind as one of the men 
brought in what looked like a large wardrobe.  She hadn't even 
thought about how they were going to carry a bound woman out of 
this busy office building, but now their plan was apparent. 
     The most senior of the three men spoke.  "Now our job is 
finished.  According to the contract, you will be turned over, 
bound and encased as prescribed to the transportation agent, who 
will transport you to the appointed location.  Miss Ryan, there are 
numerous cases where we handle instances such as this.  After your 
satisfactory completion of this assignment, we will contact you, 
and you may, if you desire, volunteer for other assignments such as 
this, at what will probably be a higher rate of pay since you will 
have proven your courage and your willingness to cooperate." 
     Two of the men pulled her up from the chair.  Each one held 
her by the wrist above her ropes and by her upper arms.  A fourth 
man, dressed in dungarees walked into the room.  "This is Fred," 
said one of the men with a firm grip on her.  "His job is to get 
you to the location safely and secretly." 
     Since this appeared to be an introduction, Stacy grunted as 
best she could.  She instinctively tried to move toward him, but as 
she did, the two She men who secured her tightened their grips 
manyfold and pulled her backward.  then learned that any variance 
from their washes would be rewarded with pain.  The transporter, 
Fred, seemed very businesslike, as though she were just another 
crate that he was picking up.  He reached over, and pinched off her 
nostrils.  She panicked, but the two men held her well.  After 
about ten seconds, he removed his hand from her nostrils, and she 
breathed hard through them.  "Good," he said, "your nostrils are 
clear.  You are going to be gagged in that hanging bag there, and 
there is no way to let me know if you have difficulties.  Remain 
calm, and above all don't cry, and you'll last the trip just fine.  
It will take about an hour to get to the airport, another three 
hours to get to where we are going, and then a short while before 
you are at our destination.  I'm going to put this silk bag over 
your head.  You'll be able to breath through it easily, but sight 
will be impossible." 
     Stacy at this point could not believe what was happening.  
Fred pulled a black bag, about twelve inches by eight inches.  The 
two men held the quivering Stacy firmly as Fred slipped the smooth 
cool silk bag over Stacy's almost hysterical eyes, tightened the 
thin cotton neckstrap to the point of being firm about her neck, 
but not dangerous, and then tied a double knot so that even if her 
hands were free, she could not access the headbag or her gag. 
     Fred had learned from experience that a transportee best not 
see the interior of the transportation bag, lest she panic.  This 
was because, when opened, the bag appeared to be such a mass of 
straps and protrusions, that a woman would barely fit in.  A woman 
does fit in, but only barely. 
     The configuration in which her arms were bound, and her legs 
hobbled, fit perfectly into an arrangement of plastic spacers and 
straps that would have the result of having the hanging bag 
absolutely motionless even if Stacy struggled to her utmost.  It 
took about fifteen minutes until the last buckle was secured and 
locked, and the bag finally zippered up and padlocked. 
     The experience of being strapped up and bagged in such a 
manner was totally unprecedented for Stacy.  After the headbag had 
been put on, her heart was racing, but she was almost curious as 
she was shoved about and strapped her and there, about her arms, 
her chest, her legs, through her middle, around her neck.  Then, 
she sensed that the contraption into which she had been strapped 
was somehow suspended.  She could not move a muscle.  It became 
very hot, and as she went down the elevator, into a vehicle, into 
an other, she could sense the stages of the journey that she must 
be undergoing, a journey into the unknown, and without a voice as 
to her fate, for she had sold her voice. 

Felix Dartmouth (C)
Felix@cld9.sccsi.com
Archives BBS
1-713-896-1721

