Misread (bondage, femdom and overused plot devices)

             Misread

   Denise thought she knew her husband, Eric.  They had been
married for nearly fourteen years after all.  Their life
together had been wonderful, if plain.  They made enough
money to live comfortably, supporting themselves and their
only child with enough left over to take the occasional
vacation or buy a new toy every now and then.
   Their latest toy had gone from complete novelty to
comfortable household fixture in less than a year.  The
computer had its own corner of the family room, complete
with desk, attendant books and peripherals and its own phone
line.  Denise flipped the power on as she passed through
into the kitchen.  Eric was already up, fixing breakfast for
their daughter, Karen.
   Eric was taking Karen to school today on his way into
work since Denise had the day off.  Denise looked forward to
a lazy day.  A steady rain fell, assuring that the day would
be hers to just play away.  Eric smiled at his wife, maybe
reading her mood a little better than he usually did.
   "And the plan for today is?"  He said with a slight
smile.
   "Doesn't look like any yardwork is going to get done
today, does it?" she smiled.  She patted his heavy shoulders
as she passed him on the way to the refrigerator.  He had
already gone back to reading the side of a cereal box, as if
he had never seen it before.  Denise frowned slightly.  Eric
had been a loving husband and father, ever kind, gentle and
safe.  It was the safe part that Denise sometimes wished
would change, just for a while.  With Eric there were never
any surprises.  That had seemed desirable when Denise had
left her tempestuous home, but an occasional surprise would
be welcome now.  About the only mystery left to her man was
the air of distraction that accompanied him almost
constantly.
   Eric rose and collected Karen.  "Don't fall asleep
watching TV," he joked as he hustled his daughter out the
door and into his truck.  He would return much the same as
he left, despite the rigors of his job.  Somehow he never
got as dirty as his crew, nor did he seem fatigued when he
came home.  Often he would take a shower, work in the yard,
play with Karen, take another shower and after Karen was
asleep, join Denise in bed for a languorous session of
lovemaking.  Denise shook her head at the thought.  No point
getting worked up prematurely, she smiled to herself.
   With no current book to read and no housework pressing to
be done, Denise sat down at the computer and fiddled for a
while.  Then she checked the email account they all shared.
Denise had not worked on the PC in several weeks. Mostly she
surfed the web looking for information on exotic travel
destinations that she was sure never to see in person.
Today, though, she wandered the electronic landscape until
she wandered into the newsgroups.
   She marvelled at the vast array of groups, even peering
guiltily into a few of the groups she considered perverse.
Denise furrowed her brow as she looked at the list of
articles in a group she was about to exit.  If she was
reading the list right, some of the articles had been read
before she had started browsing.  Denise read on, heart
fluttering slightly as the realization dawned on her.  Was
this what distracted her husband so?
   Naturally she was a little shocked by Eric's choice of
newsgroup reading.  He read stories and a damn lot of them.
Denise blushed as she read the exploits of a woman who
imprisoned a man, first physically, then mentally, until he
was thoroughly broken to her will.  The next story was even
more bizarre as a wife somehow talked her husband into
dressing in her clothes, then used the event to blackmail
him into further and further humiliation.
   She sat back in the chair, unbelieving.  Eric had never,
ever displayed the slightest interest in kink.  As
uninitiated as Denise was in the ways of fetish or bondage
or kink, she was sure she had a broader knowledge of the
field than did her seemingly innocent husband.  Well, she
thought to herself, she'd wanted a surprise from her
husband.  Denise thought, then slowly began to form a plan
as she read on through another twenty stories.
   Denise finally stopped reading, flustered and sweaty.  It
had been all she could do not to slip her hand into her
shorts and finish the job her reading had started.  Despite
the perversity of some of the stories and the fact that she
had skipped several that were just too far out for her, she
was thoroughly aroused.  Her first plan had been to
playfully confront her husband, perhaps while wearing some
kind of fetish clothing.  But after her reading session she
thought maybe something more drastic was appropriate.  She
considered her options.  She thought about ignoring her
morning of education.  That seemed unlikely, since she had
difficulty keeping a secret.  She thought about trying to
draw Eric out slowly.  There were plenty of good dramatic
movies that included some sort of bondage scene in them, or
she could start reading trashy modern women's magazines.
>From what she had seen of them at the hairdresser's, there
would be no shortage of articles mentioning the subject.
   But Eric did not like head games and she knew it.  Which
really only left her two options, asking him about it in the
course of a normal evening, or getting into the role and
surprising him by acting out one of his fantasies.  Denise
quickly decided on the latter.  It would be more fun, she
thought, and Eric would be less resistant to talk to her in
that context.  How hard could it be, she thought to herself?
She had a little money for a rainy day.  The hard part would
be actually getting him involved.
   Denise thought some more.  The common thread to almost
all of the stories that he seemed to have read was a kind of
kidnapping.  The man was almost always drugged or foolishly
acquiesced to the demands of a blackmailer, or sometimes was
simply captured and bound by brute force.  She laughed at
the thought of capturing her husband by force.  He
outweighed her by over a hundred pounds and was quite
strong.  Would he object to finding himself tied to the bed
when he woke up?   Or maybe a few strong drinks would render
him drowsy enough that she could get the drop on him.  The
only problem with that scenario was that Eric rarely drank,
claiming that he was a mean drunk and did not want to do
something irrational because of alcohol.  Denise doubted
that, although she had never challenged him.  Eric did not
have a mean bone in his body.  With that thought came an
inspiration, she had an old friend she could ask about
inducing sleep.

   Eric rubbed the bridge of his nose, staving off a
headache for a little longer.  His job combined the best and
worst of two worlds.  As a chief mechanic, he was in charge
of a whole shop with all the problems that came with a
supervisory job.  But he also did his share of repairs, and
usually on the most difficult and intractable problems.
   Today had been an okay day, with only about a dozen
silent ten counts to keep his temper in check.  His co-
workers thought of Eric as impossible to rattle, and many
had commented on how they had never seen him get mad.  A few
of the older men advised that Eric not be put to the test.
Eric rubbed his nose again as he watched the shop's biggest
screwup nearly ruin a job.  Silently counting to ten, Eric
tried not to think about punching the incompetent fool's
face in.  He hoped that Denise would be in the mood tonight,
that always helped drain the tension from his mind and body.

   Denise shopped until she had everything she needed.  As
much as she wanted to try some of the wicked fetish clothing
she had read about, she decided that simple was better.  As
it was, she had bought panties, stockings, high heeled shoes
and a tight fitting basque, all in black, of course.  Along
with the clothes she had bought a new supply of makeup more
appropriate to the severe look she wanted to create.
   Finally she had visited an old friend from school and
lied her way into obtaining a small bottle.  The contents of
the bottle were described as knock out drops.  It was the
one part of her plan that really concerned her, but it
seemed integral to Eric's fantasy reading and, presumably,
to his fantasies as well.  All she wanted was to make him
woozy enough that he would be unable to resist her.
   To her credit, Denise knew she was out of her depth, but
did not feel nervous about it.  Once Eric was incapacitated
she would tie his wrists and ankles to the bed with the soft
clothesline she had bought and then wake him up enough to
show him that she should be a part of his sexual fantasies.
She was unsure how to proceed once he was awake, beyond the
obvious ride she would take on his exposed cock, and maybe
the licking she could get from him as well.
   Once home, she put on her new underwear, hid the shoes
and rope under the bed, then put on jeans and a loose, dark
blouse and deck shoes.  After that she had just enough time
to start dinner before Eric came home.  Nervously, she
secreted the bottle in a front pocket of her jeans.  Last
but not least, she arranged for Karen to stay at her
mother's for the night.
   Eric arrived home with his usual quietness.  He dropped
some papers on his desk and hugged Denise tightly.
   "Mmmmmm, something smells good."  As his hands slipped
down her back to her backside he said, "Something feels good
too, nice and tight."
   "You must have had a good day," Denise said, certain that
her nervousness was apparent in her voice.
   "No better than usual," Eric said after a moment of
gazing into space.  He returned his gaze to her eyes and
said, "I've been looking forward to seeing you tonight.
Where is Karen?"
   "At Mom's," Denise smiled.
   Now Eric smiled as well, "Reading my mind again, I see?"
   Denise was taken a little aback, so uncanny was his
comment.  "More or less, I think," she replied, trying to be
cryptic as she returned to the kitchen to finish dinner.
   Dinner went as planned, right down to the few drops of
mystery liquid that Denise added to Eric's coffee.  It was
not long before he seemed to feel the effects of the potion.
Eric did not protest her suggestion that he needed to lay
down.  He even joked that the bedroom was his next planned
stop after dinner anyway.
    "You must be more tired than you thought," Denise
suggested reasonably, "Just rest a minute while I freshen
up, then I'm sure I'll give you a night to remember."  Eric
smiled goofily at her statement, then closed his eyes and
tried to get comfortable on the pillow.  Denise quickly
fished the rope from under the bed and cursed herself for
not cutting it to length.  Then she hurried to the bathroom
to quickly do her hair and apply her makeup.  The last thing
she did before returning to Eric was cut the rope into four
pieces.
   Eric had wakened enough to get partially undressed, she
saw when she returned, but now his eyes were closed again.
He roused only slightly as she finished getting his clothes
out of the way.  She stepped into the high heel pumps and
quickly secured his wrists and ankles to the bed, trying to
arrange the ropes so that getting him out would be easy.
This done, she leaned over the bed to get close to his face.

   Eric's eyes snapped open.  What had started as a pleasant
dream of marital bliss had transformed.  A strange woman was
leaning down over his face.  Her hair was pulled tightly
back and heavily moussed and her makeup cried 'vicious
vixen' to his partially drugged mind.  His worst fears were
confirmed when he tried to move his hands to intercept the
woman before she got closer.  Eric's heart pounded in his
chest as he realized he had somehow been transported to one
of the stories he often read.
   His mouth dried up as he heard the woman speak, "Now,
now, Eric, be a good boy and I'll make this evening
unforgettable for us both."  Her voice sounded vaguely
familiar.  Eric shook his head to clear it, and noticed that
his wrists were tied to the bedposts, but the end of the
ropes were secured to the posts fairly high up.  A strong
pull should be just enough.
   ".....like the taste of pussy, my slave.  I'm going to
just about smother you with mine."  Denise blushed furiously
under her make up.  She had never said anything like that
before, but it seemed to be having the desired effect on her
state of arousal.  She took a quick peek at Eric's exposed
crotch and was surprised to see his cock was not hard at
all.  In fact it was positively shrunken.  She looked up to
see his face.

   Eric struggled internally for only an instant.  Somehow
his worst nightmares and fondest fantasies had come true.
All his life he had carefully controlled his frightful
temper and belligerent nature, but now he faced a situation
which required the sort of violence that he had often
contemplated.  He stretched his arms out as far from his
body as they would go.
   Just as his tormentor turned her face toward his, Eric
snapped his elbows toward his sides with all the force he
could muster.  His hands gripped the ropes that circled his
wrists and he pulled with all his considerable strength.
The change of expression on the woman's face was rewarding
as they both heard the bed posts crack.  One post broke
completely, the piece rocketing past the woman's face,
scratching it slightly as it went by.  His free hand
shot forward to the woman's ample chest.  It was more of
a push than a punch, but the blow was sufficient to send her
hurtling toward the bedroom door with a cry of noooooo...

   "Nooooooo..." was all Denise could manage as her
husband's right hand sent her flying off the bed.  Denise
felt the sharp pain and thought she might have a broken rib
or two.  She paid more attention to Eric than her own
predicament, and she watched as he broke the other bedpost.
Then she realized she still wore the four-inch heels and her
course was taking her toward the stairs.
   If she had just accepted the hard landing on her
backside, she would have been fine.  Instead, Denise tried
to put her feet down to land.  Immediately, she twisted one
ankle, breaking the shoe's heel in the process.  Her back
pedalling motion carried her right through the bedroom door
and into the railing that guarded the landing at the top of
the stairs.  The cheap railing held for a fraction of a
second before yielding to her weight.

   Eric jerked hard against the ropes that held his ankles
and was rewarded with more splintered wood.  He tumbled off
the bed, unconcerned with his nudity.  Finishing his would-
be captor remained his only goal.  He found her, hanging
precariously from the broken railing at the top of the
stairs.  A smile spread slowly across his face as he
imagined her neck breaking from the fall.

   Denise held on to the spindle for dear life.  One foot
was tangled between another pair of relatively intact
spindles.  The one she held with her left hand tilted wildly
away from the floor.  When it broke, she would no doubt
plunge upside down to the floor below.  Only eight feet, but
more than enough to break her neck if she landed wrong,
which seemed almost certain.  A shadow fell on her.
   "Thank God," she croaked, "Eric, save me."

   Eric paused, her words sinking in. 'Save me' percolated
through his mind and resonated somewhere in his memory.  It
was important, he was sure.  Somewhere before, someone had
said those words to him and he had reached down...

   His grip felt as though it would crush her wrist.  He
hauled her easily up and she threw her arms around his neck.
   "Oh Eric, oh God, I'm so sorry.  I'm sorry, please
forgive me.  I had no right.... I just thought this was what
you wanted."  Denise repeated the words over and over.  Eric
frowned, thinking, then his eyes grew wide as understanding
sank in.