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Description
Gina knew that Richard did something important at a bank, but today she was more interested in his hobby. According to Angela, a friend of hers, Richard repaired cars for free. Well, even bankers need a hobby, Gina thought, and if Dick liked to dip his hands in black grease in his spare time, then why not?

And so Gina drove her 12 year old and slightly battered car to Richard's place in the suburbs. She hoped that it wouldn't give up on her before arriving there. The French automobile had become old, but she really couldn't spare the money to buy a new one. The problem was that the car developed some quirky ideas of its own. Like insisting that 60 kilometers per hour was already quite fast for an old timer. And every time Gina tried to push it just a little faster, she was rewarded by a loud and protesting whine.

Gina had arranged the meeting with Richard on the phone. When she arrived the banker was standing on the curb. He motioned the young woman to drive the car inside the open garage. She did so and stepped out of the car.

"Hi, I am Gina", she said.

"Richard, pleased to meet you," he answered gripping her hand. He looked at the car for a second, but mostly at the girl standing before him. For the occasion she was wearing a sexy blouse, a mini-skirt and high heels. After all, this guy was about to save her a lot of money, so she thought that some reward in the form of eye-candy was in order. Besides, Richard wasn't exactly ugly himself. Quite handsome actually.

"Tell me," Richard asked, "what is the problem with the car?"

"It seems to have lost power. I can get it up to about 60-65 km/h, but it really struggles to go any faster."

"OK, I will take a look at it." He paused and then continued: "Did Angela explain to you that I will repair the car for free? But that in exchange... I get to tie you up?"

That bitch Angela, Gina thought, that was so really her not to mention that the car repairing banker was also a bondage freak.

"Tie me up," Gina asked hesitatingly, "you mean... with rope?"

"That's the idea," Dick smiled, "I'll tie you to a pole in the other room and then I repair your car." He pointed to a door at the far end of the garage. "Nothing uncomfortable, mind you. You know, you might even like it."

Gina doubted it strongly. Her first impulse was to get out of there as fast as she could. But with her luck, the car probably wouldn't even start. And besides, she thought, what could happen after all? I might always scream if he tries something.

Richard was standing there, smiling, and waiting for Gina to decide.

"OK then, you can tie me up," she said, "and then you repair my car."

"Yeah, that's the deal. I tie and I repair. Come on over, I'll show you."

And so the turkey was trussed up, Gina mused. He led her to the room behind the garage. A wooden pole somewhat off center supported the roof. The walls of the room were covered with planks, carrying tools, tin cans and other paraphernalia of the perfect car repair mechanic.

And rope... plenty of it.

Richard took some ropes and started by tying Gina's wrists together on her back.

"Have you ever been tied up before?" he asked, while a second rope started to press her elbows together.

"Not since playing Cowboys and Indians," Gina answered, "hey, does it have to be so tight?"

"Tight, yes, uncomfortable no. See, I can still push a finger in there," he showed, while sliding a finger in between skin and ropes.

He pushed her gently with her back to the pole. More rope followed, tying the woman's knees together and her ankles. Suddenly Gina regretted her choice of shoes.

"Richard, please, you are not going to leave me standing like that on these high heels, are you?"

"Sure, why not Gina?" he wrapped some rope around her breast pushing her tighter to the pole. "You know, these ropes are so tight that the support from the pole will take some weight of your feet."

Or not, Gina thought, but the thought of a 3 digit garage bill, made her stop complaining.

"I'll be back, dear. I am going to take a look at your car."

Richard left the room and suddenly Gina was alone, tied to a pole in a room behind a garage, standing in precarious equilibrium on 10 cm high heels.

An absurd way to pay the bills, she thought. Suddenly she wanted to call out and end it all. But then she heard the familiar, whining sound of her Peugeot being started. The noise of the car became softer, while it was being driven out of the garage.

He is leaving me alone, Gina thought a bit panicky, until she realized that Richard probably had to see for himself what was wrong with the car. And indeed after some time the poletied woman heard the car come back in. To her great relief of course.

Gina's legs were getting tired. Her left feet was slightly off center on the high heel, and this resulted in a uncontrollable wobble. But the ankles were tied so tight, that she couldn't move the foot to find some relief.

Shit, Gina thought, I hope this is not going to take too long.

Richard came into the door, paused to take in the sight and said: "I think I have found the problem. The spark plugs, they have to be changed. However..."

"Is it complicated? You can't do it?" Gina worried.

"Sure," he said confidently, "I can repair everything. But it certainly is a gag-repair."

"A gag-repair," she repeated sheepishly, not understanding what he meant.

"A repair that is difficult enough to warrant a gag," Richard explained. Suddenly he had a ball shaped object in his hand, with straps hanging from it. Gina started to protest, but that made the task of pushing the ball gag in her mouth only easier. Gina felt the invasive object lodge behind her teeth. Richard buckled the straps behind her neck.

"Mmmph!" Gina protested, far too late.

"Very cute," her tormentor concluded, "a real sparky damsel." He looked her over one more time, smiled and went back to work.

Gina was livid now. Added to the uncomfort of the high heels and the ropes, there was now the indignity of a sudden surge of saliva, as her mouth sensed the rubbery taste of the ball gag. She was trapped, and she felt like an idiot having been caught in this trap. All she could do was hope that the reparation wouldn't take too long and then she would...

Gina didn't know how long she stood there, inventing all sort of revenges that she would inflict on this rope maniac, this car-repairing pervert, this kinky banker.

Well, it passed the time. And then suddenly Richard burst into the room and said: "Quick, it's my wife, she came back home early. I have to hide you!"

Within seconds he had untied the ropes that held the damsel in distress to the pole. But otherwise she was still tied and gagged. Without much ado he slung her over his shoulder, muttering: "Where, where can I hide you?"

Suddenly he took a decision. He ran back to the garage, carrying Gina as a bag over his shoulder, ignoring all her muted sounds of protest. He opened the trunk of the car, and dropped her in there.

Before shutting the lid, he uttered hurriedly: "Gotta hide you. She hates it when I do that."

* * *

Blackness, indistinct voices and then silence again. Gina, struggling in the dark. And then sudden bright light, when Richard opened the trunk. Before Gina's eyes could adjust, she felt him remove the ball gag.

"Ouf, that was close," he said, "You know, I couldn't have my wife letting me see like that."

"Why is that, she doesn't like you to tie up girls?" Gina tried to sound angry and sharp, but the ball gag had taken its toll.

"Oh no," Richard said, "that's not it. My wife even likes bondage. But she hates it when she sees me repairing cars. She would have killed me. She really thinks that it is not a suitable job for a Wall Street banker!"

Description
Gina knew that Richard did something important at a bank, but today she was more interested in his hobby. According to Angela, a friend of hers, Richard repaired cars for free. Well, even bankers need a hobby, Gina thought, and if Dick liked to dip his hands in black grease in his spare time, then why not?

And so Gina drove her 12 year old and slightly battered car to Richard's place in the suburbs. She hoped that it wouldn't give up on her before arriving there. The French automobile had become old, but she really couldn't spare the money to buy a new one. The problem was that the car developed some quirky ideas of its own. Like insisting that 60 kilometers per hour was already quite fast for an old timer. And every time Gina tried to push it just a little faster, she was rewarded by a loud and protesting whine.

Gina had arranged the meeting with Richard on the phone. When she arrived the banker was standing on the curb. He motioned the young woman to drive the car inside the open garage. She did so and stepped out of the car.

"Hi, I am Gina", she said.

"Richard, pleased to meet you," he answered gripping her hand. He looked at the car for a second, but mostly at the girl standing before him. For the occasion she was wearing a sexy blouse, a mini-skirt and high heels. After all, this guy was about to save her a lot of money, so she thought that some reward in the form of eye-candy was in order. Besides, Richard wasn't exactly ugly himself. Quite handsome actually.

"Tell me," Richard asked, "what is the problem with the car?"

"It seems to have lost power. I can get it up to about 60-65 km/h, but it really struggles to go any faster."

"OK, I will take a look at it." He paused and then continued: "Did Angela explain to you that I will repair the car for free? But that in exchange... I get to tie you up?"

That bitch Angela, Gina thought, that was so really her not to mention that the car repairing banker was also a bondage freak.

"Tie me up," Gina asked hesitatingly, "you mean... with rope?"

"That's the idea," Dick smiled, "I'll tie you to a pole in the other room and then I repair your car." He pointed to a door at the far end of the garage. "Nothing uncomfortable, mind you. You know, you might even like it."

Gina doubted it strongly. Her first impulse was to get out of there as fast as she could. But with her luck, the car probably wouldn't even start. And besides, she thought, what could happen after all? I might always scream if he tries something.

Richard was standing there, smiling, and waiting for Gina to decide.

"OK then, you can tie me up," she said, "and then you repair my car."

"Yeah, that's the deal. I tie and I repair. Come on over, I'll show you."

And so the turkey was trussed up, Gina mused. He led her to the room behind the garage. A wooden pole somewhat off center supported the roof. The walls of the room were covered with planks, carrying tools, tin cans and other paraphernalia of the perfect car repair mechanic.

And rope... plenty of it.

Richard took some ropes and started by tying Gina's wrists together on her back.

"Have you ever been tied up before?" he asked, while a second rope started to press her elbows together.

"Not since playing Cowboys and Indians," Gina answered, "hey, does it have to be so tight?"

"Tight, yes, uncomfortable no. See, I can still push a finger in there," he showed, while sliding a finger in between skin and ropes.

He pushed her gently with her back to the pole. More rope followed, tying the woman's knees together and her ankles. Suddenly Gina regretted her choice of shoes.

"Richard, please, you are not going to leave me standing like that on these high heels, are you?"

"Sure, why not Gina?" he wrapped some rope around her breast pushing her tighter to the pole. "You know, these ropes are so tight that the support from the pole will take some weight of your feet."

Or not, Gina thought, but the thought of a 3 digit garage bill, made her stop complaining.

"I'll be back, dear. I am going to take a look at your car."

Richard left the room and suddenly Gina was alone, tied to a pole in a room behind a garage, standing in precarious equilibrium on 10 cm high heels.

An absurd way to pay the bills, she thought. Suddenly she wanted to call out and end it all. But then she heard the familiar, whining sound of her Peugeot being started. The noise of the car became softer, while it was being driven out of the garage.

He is leaving me alone, Gina thought a bit panicky, until she realized that Richard probably had to see for himself what was wrong with the car. And indeed after some time the poletied woman heard the car come back in. To her great relief of course.

Gina's legs were getting tired. Her left feet was slightly off center on the high heel, and this resulted in a uncontrollable wobble. But the ankles were tied so tight, that she couldn't move the foot to find some relief.

Shit, Gina thought, I hope this is not going to take too long.

Richard came into the door, paused to take in the sight and said: "I think I have found the problem. The spark plugs, they have to be changed. However..."

"Is it complicated? You can't do it?" Gina worried.

"Sure," he said confidently, "I can repair everything. But it certainly is a gag-repair."

"A gag-repair," she repeated sheepishly, not understanding what he meant.

"A repair that is difficult enough to warrant a gag," Richard explained. Suddenly he had a ball shaped object in his hand, with straps hanging from it. Gina started to protest, but that made the task of pushing the ball gag in her mouth only easier. Gina felt the invasive object lodge behind her teeth. Richard buckled the straps behind her neck.

"Mmmph!" Gina protested, far too late.

"Very cute," her tormentor concluded, "a real sparky damsel." He looked her over one more time, smiled and went back to work.

Gina was livid now. Added to the uncomfort of the high heels and the ropes, there was now the indignity of a sudden surge of saliva, as her mouth sensed the rubbery taste of the ball gag. She was trapped, and she felt like an idiot having been caught in this trap. All she could do was hope that the reparation wouldn't take too long and then she would...

Gina didn't know how long she stood there, inventing all sort of revenges that she would inflict on this rope maniac, this car-repairing pervert, this kinky banker.

Well, it passed the time. And then suddenly Richard burst into the room and said: "Quick, it's my wife, she came back home early. I have to hide you!"

Within seconds he had untied the ropes that held the damsel in distress to the pole. But otherwise she was still tied and gagged. Without much ado he slung her over his shoulder, muttering: "Where, where can I hide you?"

Suddenly he took a decision. He ran back to the garage, carrying Gina as a bag over his shoulder, ignoring all her muted sounds of protest. He opened the trunk of the car, and dropped her in there.

Before shutting the lid, he uttered hurriedly: "Gotta hide you. She hates it when I do that."

* * *

Blackness, indistinct voices and then silence again. Gina, struggling in the dark. And then sudden bright light, when Richard opened the trunk. Before Gina's eyes could adjust, she felt him remove the ball gag.

"Ouf, that was close," he said, "You know, I couldn't have my wife letting me see like that."

"Why is that, she doesn't like you to tie up girls?" Gina tried to sound angry and sharp, but the ball gag had taken its toll.

"Oh no," Richard said, "that's not it. My wife even likes bondage. But she hates it when she sees me repairing cars. She would have killed me. She really thinks that it is not a suitable job for a Wall Street banker!"