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Back to Her Family's Future
|Melissa Smithers wiped her brow and paused momentarily in her cleaning,
noting how much she had accomplished already this morning. Her grandmother's house was
nearly empty at this point -- only the bedroom and closet left to work on. Most of
Grandma's clothing had already been sent ahead to the retirement center and the small
apartment there where she would live out her remaining time on earth. For Melissa it
wasn't much fun, trying to box up 73 years worth of someone else's memories, but there
just wasn't anyone else to do the job. Since Melissa's parents had died in a car crash
three years ago, Melissa was the only family member left in the area. The insurance
settlement had paid for Grandma's move and helped Melissa set herself up in a small condo,
but intimate details like this couldn't be turned over to strangers, could they?
At 27, Melissa was just beginning to establish her own life out in the business world. She had just completed her master's degree when the crash had destroyed the foundation of her existence. It had taken almost a year to put things back together. Now, however, she had worked her way up into a good career opportunity as assistant manager of a local bank branch. She had been told by management that if her performance maintained that high level, she could expect another promotion and a transfer within six months. That possibility was now the focus of her life, a 60-hour work week didn't leave much time for anything else.
As Melissa started to enter her grandmother's bedroom, she gazed for a moment at her reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. She was an attractive young woman, -- not stunningly beautiful, but cute. Her shoulder-length light brown hair curled nicely around her face, and her brown eyes and dimples tended to catch the eyes more than once. Her body was hidden away by her work clothes for the day, baggy sweatshirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes, which were covered in dirt and dust from the cleaning she had been doing. Even so, it was easy to see that Melissa could have a very enjoyable personal life... if she wanted one.
Her social life, though, had not been very successful over the last three years. She had broken up with her boyfriend not long after her parents' crash; he couldn't understand why she couldn't "put it behind her." Since then, her emphasis on work had taken precedence over everything else. She had been "set-up" on dates a few times, but rarely accepted a second invitation. Something always seemed to be missing. The counselor she had been seeing after the crash, Dr. Seaman, suggested that she was looking for someone to replace her father in her life. Maybe so, but she hadn't found that man yet.
Before moving on, Melissa looked down at the top of her grandmother's dressing table at the framed photographs still displayed there. Most of them were family members she recognized, but a couple were of her grandmother when she was in her 20s and 30s. Melissa had always been told how much she looked like her grandmother, but of course she couldn't really see it with the 46-year difference in their ages. Now, however, she could see that her grandmother had really been attractive, -- a different hair style, a little less makeup, and different clothing, but very similar in appearance to Melissa herself. Seeing a picture of her grandma standing on the arm of a handsome blond man (her grandfather?), looking lovingly into his face, she thought longingly, "Boy, I wish I could have what they had."
Getting back to work, Melissa opened up the door to the storage area at the back of her grandmother's bedroom, and stared at the wealth of clothing awaiting her perusal and packing. Obviously her grandmother had rarely ever thrown anything away. The room looked like a treasure trove of 1940s and 1950s outfits. Blouses, skirts, dresses, -- Melissa noted not a single pair of trousers or pants graced the inside of that storage area. Her grandmother had always worn feminine clothing as long as Melissa could remember, and even today would dress for the day just as she had fifty years earlier. "Some of these might bring in a little extra cash at the flea market," Melissa thought to herself, then just as quickly pushed away the thought. "Grandma will never allow that - these things mean too much to her. Better just start getting things packed away."
For the next two hours, Melissa worked her way through the hanging clothing, admiring the taste of her grandmother as she held up blouses and skirts to see how they would look on her. Both Melissa and her grandmother were the same size, and the time seemed to fly by as Melissa imagined playing "dress-up" in her grandmother's clothing like when she had been a child. Finally two of the three walls were cleared, and Melissa started into the boxes. Here the clothing brought laughter rather than admiration, as she looked through lingerie of the 1940s. "Imagine wearing this stuff today," laughed Melissa to herself, as she picked up a garter belt and held it up to her waist. "Corsets, pointy bras, stockings, garters, slips of all different shapes and sizes. No way would I do that! Pantyhose is bad enough. Why would anyone want to wear this stuff today?" As she said this to herself, she started to gather these things and pile them into boxes destined to be donated to charity. She then looked back into the dark corner, peering for any last remnants that might have been left behind.
Melissa had lost track of time, and also hadn't paid much attention to what was going on outside. Suddenly she realized that she could hear the sound of the wind blowing outside. Apparently a storm was blowing into the area. She heard a door slam downstairs and was momentarily frightened, until she realized that the wind had probably gotten hold of it. "Still," she thought nervously to herself as she realized she was all alone in an unfamiliar place, "might as well wrap up and finish this tomorrow. I've had about enough for one day." She bent down to pick up the box she had just packed. then with a soft "Unnhh," suddenly slumped over the box to the floor as something hit her in the back of the head...
Melissa woke slowly, feeling the pain in the back of her head, and instinctively started to reach up to feel the point of impact. It didn't register immediately that her hand didn't respond to her brain's command, but eventually she started to take in the signals her body was sending her. She was face-down on the carpet... her arms were pulled behind her back, and weren't moving... her mouth wasn't able to speak... ! With a start, Melissa's eyes popped open in shock as her brain tried to accept the evidence. She was lying face down on the carpet of the spare room, bound hand and foot and gagged! What in the world had happened?
As she began to struggle slightly and test the strength of the ropes binding her wrists, knees, and ankles, Melissa's eyes roamed around wildly, trying to figure out who had done this to her. She also began to realize that things were very different in the room - everything looked newer and was put back in its proper place, for one. She could hear a radio playing softly in the bedroom, -- some kind of swing band, it sounded like. As Melissa moaned softly and shifted her position, she suddenly realized that her own wardrobe had changed as well - she had on completely different clothes from what she had been wearing before she had been knocked out!
Straining her neck as she craned around to look at herself, she discovered that she was dressed in one of the outfits she had noted hanging in her grandmother's closet. She wore a dark red long-sleeved silk blouse, which gathered at a point right between her breasts, emphasizing the moderately low neckline stopping at the top of her cleavage. Below that, she could see part of a black pleated skirt, which normally would have a hemline somewhere just above her knee but was now folded up to the top half of her thighs. Her legs felt oddly cool -- more than they normally would with a skirt -- and she suddenly realized that she was wearing thigh-high stockings with garters. That was the bare skin of her thigh she was feeling! Below the ropes securing her ankles together, she could barely see black high heels on her feet.
"How did this happen? Why am I dressed in these clothes?" Melissa's mind raced in a panic, and she tried to cry out, but to no avail. The cloth strip cleaving between her lips had been tied around her head and tied securely at the base of her neck. Melissa could also feel some type of packing in her mouth under the cloth; pressing down on her tongue, she couldn't tell much other than it filled her mouth pretty well, and limited her to a low volume of grunts and whines. Even though she knew no one would be close enough to hear her, she continued to scream into the cloth for 2 or 3 minutes, until the strain and lack of oxygen forced her to stop as she coughed and gasped for air, panting heavily through her nose.
After a couple of moments rest, Melissa began to rock from side to side, finally rolling onto her back, pinning her arms underneath her. She then rocked forward and back to build up her momentum, finally performing a sit-up which allowed her to see her situation more clearly.
"I've got to get out of here," Melissa thought wildly to herself, "but how?" She started scooting along the floor a few inches at a time, moving out the door of the closet and toward the dressing table in the bedroom. The carpet fibers scratched painfully on the bare skin of her upper thighs, but she continued on, desperately pinning her hopes on finding something to cut the ropes. Finally, she reached the table, and sat up so that her back was up against the edge of the wood.
Gathering her legs under her as best she could, she started to pull herself up, with her arms pushing into the table and her legs straining upward at an awkward angle. For a moment she lost her balance and seemed ready to tip over but caught herself at the last second. In a last desperate push, Melissa teetered onto the high heels and pushed herself into a standing position, rocking for a moment then steadying herself by leaning on the wall. She then lowered her bottom onto the top surface of the dressing table and allowed herself to rest from the exertion for a moment. "Damn, I need to start getting back to the gym on a regular basis," she thought to herself, forgetting her desperate situation for a moment as she realized how out-of-shape she was.
After a short rest, Melissa began feeling around with her bound wrists and hands, trying to find something she could use to cut the ropes. Finding nothing, she pulled herself back up to a standing position, and prepared to try elsewhere. She hopped a few inches at a time, moving carefully on the 4-inch heels and trying above all not to lose her balance. She could feel her chest bounce on each hop, and her flared skirt bounced on her thighs, showing a few inches of skin if there had been anyone to see it. Just as she was reaching the doorway of the bedroom, however, one of her heels caught in the carpet, throwing her wildly off balance. Unable to stop her momentum or catch her fall, Melissa could only watch in horror as the floor rose up to meet her, stunning her.
In a daze, Melissa could her someone running up the stairs in response to her loud crash. She heard the door open and a gasp from a male voice, then someone reached to the floor to pick her up. Melissa tried to focus on what was happening to her, but her brain was still seeing stars. Vaguely she saw the gentleman grab a straight-back wooden chair from a nearby wall and pull it over to her corner where she lay, near the entrance to the room. He reached down and pulled her upright, then grabbed her under her shoulders and seated her on the chair with her bound wrists behind the seat back. He then walked into the closet for a moment, leaving her alone.
Melissa knew she needed to get up and try to escape before the man returned, but her senses were only now returning and she just couldn't find the strength to rise again. Just as she was about to make the attempt, she uttered a smothered cry as she saw the man return from the closet, holding several lengths of rope. Obviously he didn't intend to give her another chance to get away! She could now see that her captor was a tall blonde man, with a small black mask covering the upper half of his face except for his eyes. He was dressed oddly for modern days, in light brown knickers, a long-sleeved shirt, and a wool sweater vest.
Dropping some of the rope on the floor, he began to wind rope around her upper torso - shoulders, below her breasts and around her upper arms, and over her stomach, -- pinning her to the back of the wooden chair. As the rope dug into her stomach, it pulled up the bottom of Melissa's blouse, revealing a small fold of flesh.
Melissa's face flamed in shame and embarrassment as the man ran his hand slowly over it and said, "My, it looks like we need to exercise a little more; doesn't it?" Melissa tried to hurl an insult at him, but it only came out as an angry "Fffurrrk mrruuu! through the cloth in her mouth, as he laughed and continued his business. Finally he tied off the rope on the side of the chair, far out of reach of Melissa's groping fingers.
Next, he wound a length of rope around her upper thighs several times, pinning her to the seat. Although he tied the rope over her skirt, Melissa's struggles as he did this forced her skirt higher up on her legs, until once again a portion of her bare thighs was visible above the tops of her stockings and beneath the garters. This time, however, there was someone available to appreciate this, as her captor looked unabashedly at what she had to show. Melissa tried to squirm in an effort to force her skirt lower, but the ropes pinning her to the seat were quite effective in preventing movement. Finally, the man untied her ankles, then pulled each one to a chair leg and tied it to the wood with rope. With this done, he again left the room, this time out the entrance door and into the main part of the house.
Melissa tried to fight back the panic in her stomach and the lump in her throat, as she pulled against the ropes which held her firmly in the wooden chair. "What does he want from me? There's nothing valuable left in the house. The only thing here is... me!" With this thought, Melissa pulled even more frantically at the ropes, with little or no success. The only noticeable result of her efforts was the rise of her skirt a little higher on her bare thighs, and the disheveled appearance of her hair and reddened face.
The funny thing was, though, even as she looked across the room to the mirror on the dressing table at her mussed appearance, she could also feel herself getting a little excited by the way she felt in these clothes and the helpless position she was in. Melissa had always hidden away a little fantasy deep inside, -- of being taken forcefully by a powerful man, sort of like on the covers of the harlequin romances she loved to read. This wasn't exactly the same thing, of course, but it was hard to convince her own body as it began to demonstrate its readiness for more. Even as she continued to struggle for freedom, part of her mind began to wonder, "What will he do next, helpless as I am?" and to imagine the possibilities.
Melissa lost track of how long she waited, but eventually she heard the approach of her captor as he made his way back to her location. In his hands he held camera equipment, along with a small leather bag.
He set up his tripod a few feet away and attached the camera, then began snapping pictures of Melissa, helplessly bound before him! Melissa wiggled anew at this invasion. How could he let anyone see her like this? Then, he attached a timer to the camera and set it. Moving quickly as the timer began making a loud "whirring" sound, he knelt next to Melissa and whispered, "Okay, my love, smile and don't say anything!" Despite the gravity of the situation, Melissa couldn't help but smile at his bad joke, just as the camera went off with a flash, sealing that moment in time.
Once her captor had taken apart the camera equipment, he then opened the leather bag and reached inside, extracting a white handkerchief and a glass bottle marked "ether." Melissa, suspecting what he intended to do, began to shake her head violently from side to side, trying to avoid his grasp and express her displeasure all at the same time. "My dear, I've waited so long to see you like this again," the man spoke as he poured some of the contents of the glass jar onto the handkerchief. "You look so beautiful tonight, so sexy..."
Melissa thought her heart would burst from her chest in panic as he reached toward her with the soaked cloth. "You'll just take a little nap, my darling, and then we can have some real fun." Despite the desperate shaking of her head, the masked man pushed the cloth over Melissa's nose and gagged mouth, then held in firmly in place until she was forced to inhale the powerful scent. Slowly the room began to fade from view, as Melissa began to fall asleep...
Her first sensation as she began to awake was that she was cooler than before. She didn't feel sweaty from the fight in the chair against the ropes any more.
Quickly, though, her mind told her this was not a normal chilliness, and her eyes opened to discover that she was now nearly naked! The 40s blouse and skirt she had worn before had been removed, along with her brassiere; she now wore only a white lacy pair of panties and matching garter belt, along with the same stockings and black high heels. She was lying on the carpet again, and the scratchy carpet fibers now had more bare skin to irritate than before. Melissa sniffed back the onset of embarrassed tears in her eyes and nose, as she mentally assessed her new situation.
With the loss of her clothing, Melissa discovered that her captor had also added additional rope to her body. The ropes that tied her ankles and knees together remained in place, but now additional ropes were in place at mid-thigh, near the tops of her stockings, and at the very top of her bare thighs, pressing into the bottom curve of her rear end. The ropes around her torso and stomach which had secured her to the chair now had been replaced by ropes circling her upper chest above her bare breasts, which connected to ropes around her upper arms near her armpits.
Next, her elbows had been connected painfully with a length of rope, drawing them backward until they almost touched. Finally, a longer length of rope had been used to circle her waist several times, then cinched to her still-bound wrists, securing them to the small of her back. This had the effect of pressing her hands palm-down into her top of her buttocks. She was also still gagged with the same cloth as before.
As Melissa began to move on the floor and struggle against the ropes, she was suddenly hit with a wave of pain and pure pleasure so intense she almost blacked out. Instinctively she tried to relax, but immediately the wave hit again, intensely stimulating her between her legs. Finally she was able to look down her torso and see what she had overlooked before. Four strands of rope had been used to connect the ropes above her breasts to the rope around her waist, then had been extended between her thighs and right over her pussy, protected only by her thin little panties. As she tentatively moved her wrists and hands in the small of her back, she discovered that the crotch ropes had been tied off there, forcing the ropes to travel painfully between her ass cheeks. Every time she struggled or moved, she was pulling one way or the other against her most intimate and sensitive area.
Melissa laid back to consider her situation, even as her body continued to buzz with pleasure from the stimulation it had already received. While she could barely stand the wave of feeling rushing through her body, she also knew that she had been stripped for a reason; obviously her captor would be back for her soon. She had to escape, no matter what the cost to her body! With this said, she began to pull herself to a sitting position once again, trying to ignore the pain of the rope between her legs. This time it was more difficult because her arms were tied so tightly to her torso, but gradually she worked her way up to kneel in front of the chair where she had previously resided.
By this time, her nipples were fully erect and her panties were noticeably damp from the excitement coursing through her loins, but she knew this was her last chance for freedom. With a last push, she raised herself to a standing position once more, then teetered on her heels and leaned painfully face-first into the corner of the wall. Her body felt like it was on fire. Every time she moved, the ropes in her pussy sent out shock waves that she could feel all the way to her toes. Desperately she squeezed her hands and fingernails into her buttocks, digging painfully into her panties in an attempt to distract her mind from the feeling between her legs. Melissa tried to quickly catch her breath, then pushed out from the wall to a fully erect position, and began to turn her body once again toward the now-closed door.
With a desperate show of will power, Melissa deliberately pulled up on her wrists toward the door handle, knowing the price she would pay between her legs. In vain she continued to pull upward to get a grip on the knob, but it was just too high, and the rubberly feeling in her legs was telling her she couldn't keep pulling.
The waves of intense stimulation were beginning to overwhelm her defenses, but in a last desperate attempt Melissa jerked upward, twisting her body and grabbing for the doorknob at the same time. She missed, and the adrenaline rush in her body as she realized she was falling to the floor with no way to cushion the blow set off an incredible orgasm, the likes of which she had never experienced in her life. Her spasming body hit the floor hard, stunning her mind even as her body continued to explode in pleasure against the ropes over and over.
Melissa lost track of time and her surroundings for the next few minutes, as she tried to deal with this new understanding of the potential of her body. When she regained her senses, she found herself lying face up on the carpeted floor, with her captor kneeling over her with a concerned look on his now-unmasked face. Melissa was sure she had seen him somewhere before, but at the moment her mind was so out of it, she couldn't be sure of anything. "Nora, are you all right?, she heard him say in a breathless voice, as if he had just run from somewhere. "You didn't hurt yourself in the fall, did you?"
Melissa's thoughts suddenly became sharply clear, even as the man reached out and began to gently stroke her hair. "Nora? That's not me, that's my Grandma's name! Why is he calling me Nora? And that face, -- where have I seen him before? Oh my God... he's the man in the picture on the dressing table. But that's impossible; isn't it?" Melissa's mind raced through the possibilities, unable to make any sense of this situation.
"Well, Nora my dear, I've let you have your fun by yourself. Now isn't it time that you let me play too?" As he said this, the man from the picture helped Melissa into a sitting position (once again involuntarily pulling on her crotch in the process), knelt behind her, and began to massage her shoulders. Melissa's thoughts and quandries immediately faded away, as his gentle touch worked its magic on her sore muscles and pressed into her skin. He rubbed her upper arms and elbows around the ropes holding them tautly bound, then continued to work his way down.
The blond man laid Melissa back down on the carpet face-down, then started working below the waist. She squirmed for a moment as he rubbed her buttocks through the panties, forcing them to press into the rope resting between the two cheeks. Then, he massaged each of her legs, rubbing calves, feet, and thighs. As he touched her thighs and rubbed them more and more, Melissa could feel the tingling sensation begin again in her pussy, as her body recovered and showed it was ready for more.
Her captor paused for a moment and moved out of Melissa's sight, then suddenly reappeared and rolled her over onto her back. He had taken off his shirt in the interim; he was a muscular man with a patch of light blond hair in the middle of his chest, and Melissa suddenly felt even more naked and exposed than she already was under his gaze. Without a word he began to stroke her face above the gag, massaging hertemples and tracing her lips above and below the cleave. His hands moved down to her breasts, lightly brushing the sides, then squeezing them gently. Her nipples stiffened even more as he moved his fingertips over them, then rolled them around and squeezed each nipple between a thumb and forefinger, and her pelvis began to move unconsciously against her crotch rope, now seeking the stimulation it provided.
On his hands roamed, stroking her belly and sides, then dipping underneath the waistband of her panties. Melissa felt the touch of his hand pressing her pubic hair around the crotch rope, and her body began to vibrate in anticipation. Finally, he pulled out the crotch rope with one hand, while the other hand slipped a finger into her vagina. Immediately she began bucking wildly in another intense orgasm, rocking back and forth as the waves of pleasure hit her over and over...
Melissa opened her eyes on the floor of the closet where she had fallen from the blow to her head. Confused, she looked around at her surroundings. The boxes were all over the floor of the closet, and the vase which the wind had knocked off the shelf onto her head lay in pieces around her on the floor. She was still clad in the sweatshirt and jeans she had worn during her cleaning, and the dark shadows on the floor told her most of the afternoon had already passed while she was out cold. Rubbing the painful bump on the back of her head, she tried to figure out what had happened.
"I guess it was just a dream," Melissa mused to herself, as she rose unsteadily to her feet and tried to get her bearings. "Still, it seemed so incredibly real, and the picture..." She walked out into the bedroom and over to the dressing table, looking for the picture she was sure she had seen earlier that day. "Wha?... I know I saw that picture right here," Melissa mumbled to herself. All she could see before her, however, were the pictures of family members, along with a couple of her grandmother in her twenties, standing by herself and smiling. There was no picture of Grandma Nora with the blonde man anywhere in sight!
Melissa decided she needed to get out of there and head for the emergency room. With these kinds of memory lapses and fantasies, she figured she must have a concussion. Picking up her personal effects, she headed out the door and started down the stairs. As she left, still feeling a strange sexual satisfaction inside her, Melissa swore to herself that she would jump-start her social life as soon as possible, -- now she knew what kind of man she was really looking for!
Funny thing was, though, she never went back into that dark corner of her grandmother's closet again. Because of that, she never saw the corner of a picture sticking out from behind the bottom shelf. Yellowed with age, the black and white image was still clearly visible, -- a young woman with shoulder-length light brown hair, wearing a long-sleeved blouse and a short black pleated skirt, bound to a wooden chair and smiling through her gag, with her blonde boyfriend standing behind her. On the back in faded ink was the barely-visible inscription: "To Nora, my bound beauty, -- all my love, now and forever. -- Jim."
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