Caught in the Rain

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Author’s Note: This originally written piece re-creates a story whose title and author I unfortunately cannot remember. To my knowledge, it’s no longer available online, as it was part of Mason’s Tied and True Tales, a site which unfortunately was taken down before being revived with only some of its original content. I remained true to the plot and Mason’s tendency to combine fetish and rainwear themes as best I could remember, while adding my own flavor to fill in any gaps. Being denied the chance to thank the original author personally for their fine work, I hope they will settle for this homage.

* * *

Where was Ben? It was nearly ten and the morning’s light drizzle had worked itself up into quite a lather. Fat raindrops pelted the ground like bullets. Of course Amy, their mutual friend, would pick an outdoor shopping center for them to meet. Tracy, one hand holding her umbrella steady, danced lightly around puddles and finally sought refuge under the awning of a pottery shop.

The young woman checked the fastenings of her slick yellow raincoat and drew its belt tighter around her waist. Even under the awning the din washed away all other sound. Tracy scanned the ravaged shopping center once more. There wasn’t anyone to be seen. Most of the shops opened around ten though. Maybe the shopkeepers were inside waiting to unlock their doors, but there were no gaggles of customers bustling to get inside. The rain drove them off.

Most importantly, there was no Ben. She needed Ben. Rather, she needed to sell an old ring from an ex and he needed impress his girlfriend. More important than helping some guy from the local university get laid, though, Tracy needed to pay her rent this month.

Her phone buzzed. She hadn’t bothered programming Ben’s number into it. The sequence of digits just said, “can’t make it, sry. Don’t need ring n e more. goodluck.”

Fuck! Tracy had taken two busses to get here. With the rain and a shortened weekend schedule they wouldn’t be around again in a hurry. Tracy stared at the rain grumpily. When had the world collectively decided she was so expendable?

Tracy walked slowly down the row of shops, somewhat quicker wherever there weren’t awnings. Finally she happened upon a dark jewelry store. The sign on the door said it wouldn’t open until eleven. They would probably buy the ring from her but they wouldn’t pay as much as Ben. Tracy sighed—stick around for an hour or be late on her rent. She couldn’t see any other choice.

She heard a soft click that indicated the shop next door kept better hours. Tracy strolled over to look in the window and a pair of paper-white legs met her eyes. She gasped.

Alright, so seeing a mannequin in a store window isn’t exactly shocking. What was shocking were the fishnet stockings and black leather bustier this particular mannequin had been stuffed into. A leather bullwhip dangled from her hand, but the outstretched plastic fingers didn’t grasp it very well. Looking past the statuesque fake dominatrix and the glass backing to the display, Tracy spied shelves and shelves full of sex toys. But there was other stuff too…kinky stuff. This was no ordinary sex shop.

Intrigued and with nowhere to be, Tracy wandered inside the shop to try and distract herself from the continuing disappointment that was her life. A shrill bell rang as she opened the door.

“Welcome, can I help you find anything today?” came a pleasant voice from her left. It took Tracy a moment to fully take in the sight before her. Behind the counter was a young and beautiful brunette wearing a powder blue waistcoat with black trim…made of shiny latex. Tracy stared at the smiling spectacle. The halter top left little to the imagination. Suffice it to say her blowout curls were given a soft landing. Her hands were encased in short black latex gloves as well, which she rested on her hips presentably. Just over the counter Tracy observed the beginnings and quick end of the woman’s black miniskirt. Also latex.

“I—I’m just looking around, thanks,” Tracy mumbled as she walked past. The shop had the air of ordered chaos that you might find in an old bookstore. Items crammed into every corner yet Tracy found herself navigating it easily—past the circular stand of cats o’ ninetails, along the wall filled with spools of rope in every imaginable color. A sign next to the spools read: Cut to any length – We’ll whip the ends and anything else you like!

After the ropes came dildos by the dozen. They came in all shapes and sizes and colors, arranged on dustless shelves so that the whole display comprised a salacious rainbow. Of course, none of that caught Tracy’s attention like the next aisle over, which was apparently the leather aisle.

The leather came in many vibrant colors too, interrupted by chrome studs and buckles weaving straps into stunning shapes. Sometimes Tracy needed to look at the accompanying photos just to see how the hell these harnesses worked. Some were just fashion, like the cupless leather bra or any number of body Ataşehir Öğrenci Escort harnesses. Some had restraints attached for hands or arms, and a few looked excruciatingly stringent. Tracy was out of her depth—she never really been tied up before. People did this willingly…and paid these prices?!

The goddamn rent. When she’d been an idiot teenager, Tracy had sometimes stolen things here and there from the big chain stores and returned them for easy cash. That probably wouldn’t work at a small store like this, but maybe she could sell it online. And why not? Whoever owned this place would probably just write it off, stick a little minus sign on some Excel spreadsheet, and grumble. In return she’d get to eat a meal or two that didn’t come from a can. That sounded fair enough for Tracy.

Tracy gazed nonchalantly at the ceiling. No cameras, no mirrors for spying down the aisles. The latex-clad vixen was nowhere to be seen. Tracy steeled herself and looked around. Next to all the harnesses was a display of gags. Tracy nearly blanched at the sight of them. They were leather straps with big red balls connected in the middle. She couldn’t help but imagine them between her teeth, like a small apple.

Fifty bucks and up for a silicone ball and some leather. Tracy eyed them hungrily now, figuring she could get forty online easy, maybe even full price. Some of them were huge and looked like a tangled mess of straps. Tracy focused on a smaller one that would fit easily into her purse without bulging. She looked around again.

The coast was clear. She picked it up.

Swiftly, the gag disappeared into her purse. Flush with excitement, Tracy headed for the door. She looked at the smiling woman behind the counter. She was past the counter and nearly out. But then…

“Excuse me, miss,” came a slightly accented voice.

Another woman appeared and blocked Tracy’s path. She was not wearing a powder blue waistcoat.

* * *

Tracy, at 5′ 3″, was used to meeting people taller than her, but this woman towered. She looked almost like the mannequin in the window, wearing a black leather corset with matching opera gloves and thigh-high boots. Her bikini cut leather briefs made a farce of modesty itself. She glared at Tracy through dark makeup.

“Katya!” the woman behind the counter gasped and walked over, revealing shiny pumps.

“May I see your bag please, miss?” Katya asked bluntly. Her stare never relented.

“Is something wrong?” Tracy replied. Her innocent tone wasn’t very convincing.

“What’s going on?” the other woman was now beside Katya.

“She’s trying to steal from the store, Val,” Katya said coldly.

“What?! No!” Tracy cried. When caught: deny, deny, deny.

“The purse,” Katya motioned for it. Val yanked it out of Tracy’s hands.

“Hey!” Tracy protested as Val reached inside and produced the gag.

“I see,” Val’s eyes narrowed. Her expression turned wooden.

“Oh my God!” Tracy lied, “I’m so sorry. I forgot I had that. Just let me pay for it.”

The store clerks weren’t buying it. Tracy made a step for the door but Katya grabbed her and pinned her arms at her sides.


Katya didn’t let go. “So…a liar and a thief. We have a real winner here. Should I call the police?”

Val snorted. “Like last month when those kids broke our window and stole the other mannequin? The police are useless…”

“But we have this one red-handed.”

“I suppose we do…”

“No! You can’t call the police,” Tracy whined, “Look, I’m sorry. I just really needed some cash…”

“Yeah, I bet you’re a regular Olivia Twist. A model citizen caught in the…wait a minute,” Val’s eyes lit up and she turned to Katya. “What if she worked off this little debt instead?”

“What do you mean?” Katya asked.

“Don’t we need some help in the advertising department?”

Katya took Val’s meaning and perked up in a disconcerting way, and though Tracy had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, options were a little limited right now.

“Whoa, yeah! Whatever you need, just you know, leave this between us, ok?” Tracy stammered.

“Absolutely, dear.” Tracy wasn’t stupid, and Val’s smile was setting off about a million red flags in Tracy’s head, but they had her over a barrel. If she had to guess, they wanted her to do some work around here. That was fine as long as it got Tracy out of police reports and court dates and fees and, for all she knew, jail.

“She’ll need some dressing up,” Katya advised.

“Of course, this way please,” Val ushered, and Tracy found herself being steered toward the back of the store. There wasn’t much she could do about it. Katya had a pretty good grip on her.

Would they just call the cops anyway? Were they just luring her into staying put until they arrived? Passing row after row of kinky gear, Tracy considered making a break for it. No cameras in this store, once she was gone they’d never be able to prove Ataşehir Çıtır Escort anything. Val probably wasn’t very swift in her heels and miniskirt, but she wasn’t the problem. In all that leather, Katya was one mask away from passing as a pro-wrestler. And look—they sell masks here, too!

Tracy’s mind raced wildly so that she wound up doing absolutely nothing. Katya led her into a room at the back of the store. Standing in the center, Tracy felt a sudden tug as Val yanked off her raincoat.

“What are you doing?” Tracy asked out of shock.

“You won’t draw any crowds dressed like that, honey,” Val said simply. “Now, the shirt.”

Tracy instinctively felt smoothed her button down blouse. “Excuse me? What do you even want me to do for you two?”

Val gave her a nasty smile. “We have some empty window space and think a little live modelling might draw a little business.”

Tracy stared at her. “What? You mean me and, like, that stuff out there, and the window?”

Val raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, no. No way.” Katya’s grip on her instantly tightened.

Val looked cross. “Look, you can do as we say or we can let the police deal with you.”

“You said they were useless.”

“They’ll come quicker when I tell them you assaulted me while trying to run. The shirt.” Val meant business. Slowly, Tracy unbuttoned her shirt to reveal a simple white bra. It looked very unwelcome in such a flamboyant and erotic place.

“This is insane. It’s wrong,” Tracy said defiantly.

“Isn’t that cute, Katya?” Val smirked.

“An ethics lesson from a thief,” Katya grunted as she held Tracy in place.

Clearly Tracy was getting nowhere with these two. Gritting her teeth, she slowly removed her shoes, socks, and jeans as well. But Val and Katya weren’t satisfied until her bra and panties disappeared as well. Val made a petty comment about her unkempt pubic hair as she neatly folded Tracy’s things off to the side.

Tracy stood there awkwardly as Val went rummaging through various boxes of inventory. She briefly considered just running, but being naked took just about all the appeal out of that idea, plus Katya stood strategically between her and the door.

Once Val returned with a pile of clothing (if it could be called that), Tracy felt surrounded again. They didn’t hand her the clothes but rather set to work dressing her. Like a mannequin.

Val slipped a red satin thong under Tracy’s feet and slid it up her tense legs. Tracy could only gasp in surprise as she felt the delicate material slip between her cheeks snugly. Next, a lacy garter belt was clipped around Tracy’s waist while Katya approached with stockings. Made to balance precariously on one leg, Tracy groaned as Val gingerly slid the black silk up each leg. The two worked together until both stockings adorned her, clipped to the belt.

Feeling no less naked, Tracy watched helplessly as Val unfurled a longer, flowing garment which turned out to be a red satin chemise with black lacing. It stretched to hug her every curve and was so short that Tracy’s round backside peeked out from beneath it. Katya released her grip and Tracy felt an underwire pressing beneath her breasts. Combined with the halter, the chemise lifted her chest quite provocatively.

“Well, she can definitely pull off the look,” Katya admitted as Tracy grudgingly showed off her new outfit. She caught a glimpse in a nearby mirror. At least Katya wasn’t lying.

“Absolutely! I think this might actually work,” Val agreed as she slipped shoes onto Tracy’s stocking feet. They had impossibly high heels and strapped to her ankle.

“So how do you want to do this?” Val asked. Tracy listened intently to their whispers, hoping to glean her fate from them. But all she heard were the words “rope” and “window.” Neither were encouraging.

“So…what are you making me do, exactly?” Tracy asked nervously.

Katya moved behind her. Val saw Tracy’s expression and assured her, “relax, honey. You’re doing us a big favor. Plus you might even have some fun!”

Tracy suddenly felt Katya grab her wrists from behind.

“Hey!” Tracy gasped in surprise. “What are you doing, hey!”

Katya fed a loop of cream-colored rope around Tracy’s wrists. Wishing she’d listened to all those warning bells in her head, Tracy instantly struggled and tried to free herself. Val stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders.

“You can’t do this,” Tracy cried out, still not entirely sure what they were actually planning to do.

“Oh, I think we can,” Val said with chilling calm, “You fucked yourself by trying to steal and you’re going to make up for it. You can do it our way or we can call the cops. Hope you have a good lawyer.”

Tracy’s lip curled in anger, but she couldn’t hide the fear in her eyes. In the end she dropped her gaze and let Katya finish tying her wrists behind her. The ropes were quite restricting but didn’t bite into her skin.

“I wasn’t kidding before,” Val instantly Ataşehir Elit Escort resumed her sweet politeness, “You might actually have some fun, if you’re good and you play along. You don’t even have to do much of anything. Just model a bit of our merchandise for us.”

Val held up another piece of the “merchandise:” the big red ball gag that Tracy had stuffed into her purse. She probably thought it was poetic.

“I hate you,” Tracy mumbled before Val shoved the ample ball deftly between her lips.

“Fine,” she said, “just hate my quietly.” Val worked the straps behind her head until the ball was held firmly between her teeth, muffling Tracy’s every sound. She’d gone from raincoat to bound and gagged in lingerie. What a difference twenty minutes can make.

Katya disappeared and returned with an armful of more cream-colored rope. Tracy moaned indignantly but being in this state left little fight in her. Her freedom had been slipping away since she entered the shop. Why would it stop now?

Val held her legs as Katya, clearly the rope master between them, knelt before Tracy. First, her ankles were tied together. Katya’s ropes neatly coiled around the trembling limbs several times before they snaked between them and cinched the ropes tightly. Katya then knotted them and fed the free ends down through the high heels and over Tracy’s feet so they, too, were bound together.

Val now let go of her confidently, and Tracy was indeed helpless as Katya continued. Similar coils of rope found their way onto Tracy’s thighs, as well as above and below her knees. It was unlike anything Tracy had ever felt before. Her legs were held together so tightly yet the rope didn’t bite or hurt like she could have expected. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with delusions of escape, she could have admired Katya’s work.

Of course, she felt a little differently when Katya turned her attention to Tracy’s elbows. Tracy felt a doubled rope loop them together, pulling her arms irresistibly behind her until they were only a couple inches apart. Katya wrapped more coils until satisfied that Tracy wouldn’t be budging her elbows even a little, then she turned the rope sideways and began wrapping it around the coils between Tracy’s limbs until securely cinched. But the rope was long and Katya had plenty left over. The doubled rope was fed beneath Tracy’s arms, around and over her left shoulder, behind her neck, down over her right shoulder and back around to her elbow tie. Katya then repeated the move so that plenty of rope snaked around Tracy’s shoulders, and then fed the free ends up from her elbows to her neck. She brought the ends of the rope to their final destination back between Tracy’s elbows where they were knotted very tightly. Tracy’s shoulders were forced back, thrusting her chest out in the process. Tracy pulled with all her might against her new bindings, finding she her arms and legs totally trapped. Her moans now pled with her captors.

“Comfortable?” Val asked with an acid grin. Tracy struggled, feeling more anxious by the minute, but knew it would get her nowhere. To be honest, the ropes didn’t really hurt. Katya was good.

“Good,” Val went on, “because you work for us today, and we have a very special job for you. Val wheeled over an office chair and plopped Tracy down awkwardly in her bindings. Katya grasped the back of the chair and off they went, rolling through the store with the lingerie-clad Tracy trussed up and helpless.

At first Tracy was quite relieved that the store was still empty. The rain kept pouring outside, driving shoppers away from their lonely plaza. Of course it was a two-way street. Even if Tracy escaped, whether free or hopping through the gale in ropes and dangerously heeled feet, she’d be soaked in chilly water. She’d have to go back for her raincoat…

But these thoughts were quickly wiped from Tracy’s mind when she realized that Val and Katya were taking her to the display window at the front of the store. Through the glass, the dominatrix mannequin kept her back turned to them impolitely.

“You see, Miss…we never really got your name, did we? Oh well—we’re running a sale today and we need help spreading the word. So your job today will be to show off our merchandise to help draw people into the store.” Katya’s eyes were gleaming.

Tracy’s eyes went wide and she shook her head again violently. Put on display for anyone to see? That was going too far. She’d figured that at the very least, people would have to enter the kinky bondage store to see the tied up woman.

“Relax, you look great!” Val assured her as the two heaved Tracy to her feet. While Val steadied her, Katya slid open the display case and moved the mannequin aside. Beside it she placed a large round block which she then covered with a large black satin sheet. Now it was Tracy’s turn.

She twisted and turned as Val and Katya gripped here, but she could do so little in those ropes. Invariably Tracy was heaved into the open window. Katya climbed in with her and placed Tracy on her stomach in the center of the block. She then produced another cream rope and looped it around the cinch between Tracy’s elbows. Tracy writhed as the rope fed through her ankle tie and then pulled taut, forcing her knees to bend and making the ropes on her legs tighten dramatically.

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