A Wager Lost Ch. 01

Krissy sat slumped in the corner of the drafty unfinished and empty bedroom on the carpet of their almost finished house, her head resting against the wall. She languidly watched dust motes travel across the ray of sun that shone forth from the skylight in the ceiling above and sighed tiredly, still fatigued and sore from the sparring session with her husband, but now a bit sore from the predicament she let herself get talked into.

The sunny spot on the floor was the only warmth, and Krissy knew at some point she would want to lay there before either the sun moved or was obscured by cloud, but her mind was reeling and she felt like she was still trying to catch her breath from the match while also replaying in her head the times where she went wrong attacking when she should have feinted before Aiden had put Krissy into a lock and flipped her onto her back. He bet her a hundred bucks, a sushi dinner, and a full body massage he would. She, of course leaped at the chance for salmon sashimi and avocado spring rolls and some spending money.

Unfortunately, Aiden was also her fighting instructor too. Although his tutelage had got her at the top of her karate class, he had some funny ideas of her training. Since they were married they had accepted each others kinks and committed to them as to how they believed a healthy married couple should within the limits of reason and safety, of course. And because they were best friends as well as lovers, they trusted each other completely, even when they bickered.

But most importantly, they felt their marriage worked at present because they were adventuresome, and appealed to each other's need to challenge the other. And sometimes, perhaps more so than she cared to admit did Krissy find herself at the losing end of the bets they would make and losing those bets usually meant that Krissy would have to solve a puzzle of some kind or a test of endurance or a combination of both guile, dexterity and wit.

And so, the loser of that morning's bet sat slumped in the corner of the drafty unfinished and empty bedroom on the carpet of their almost finished house, her head resting against the wall, her arms behind her back and bound firmly and securely with hemp at the wrists, wound against the gold and black elastic trim of her jacket which Aiden had purposely wound to at least not let her binds chafe her at first. Krissy stared at the dust motes in the ray of sun from the skylight that lay a few feet beyond her Converses before her attention slowly turned to the manner in which Aiden had bound her ankles in the same fashion as her wrists to keep her from trying to get up from the floor, and then at the way her knees were also cinched together before wondering silently why she ever decided to marry this kinky freak who had cleave-gagged her with his bandanna and left her here to stew in her predicament.

The morning's routine had begun with breakfast before leaving the apartment they were renting while the house was being remodeled to the house proper so they could go to the terraces near the shore to train. They had an argument about who starred who in a movie, the details now kind of fading in and out of her mind now but then it was an animated and respectful argument. By the time they reached the terraces, the discussion had went into a wager upon their sparring session's result. Aiden proposed the dinner, and Krissy accepted.

"And if I lose?"

Aiden flashed her that mischevous grin that got her all sorts of hot and bothered, and Krissy at once knew that this was going to lead to some kinky shit on his part, which good thing for him was also up her alley as well. "I'm going to tie your ass up and leave you in our bedroom upstairs, you know, to break it in, like?"

Krissy's cheeks reddened. "No, the fuck you are not!"

"Those are my terms."

"For how long?"

"Two hours."

"Fuck you."

"Three hours."

"No! You are not leaving me stuck for an hour, you asshole."

"You're going to go against our bet?"

"No, because I'm going to kick your ass and you're going to buy me dinner!"

That was not the way things happened. Aiden defeated her, and Krissy accepted the terms of their wager. Her husband offered his hand and she took it, helping Krissy off the ground. She had worked up a sweat, but it was a bright fall morning with the temperature in the upper fifties, and she began to shiver. Aiden, ever the observant mate threw her her jacket, a black nylon baseball jacket with gold trim on the bands and a patch of her high school karate dojo on its shoulder. Krissy donned the jacket and immediately began to fasten the buttons, stopping to just above her midriff to ward of the chill of the breeze, which began to pick up as the sun began to climb towards noon.

She put her hands inside her jacket pockets and fingered their wedding ring rather nervously in her left-hand pocket which she always took off before sparring, walking back up towards the house that they had bought and spend the summer fixing up and remodeling. They were nearly finished, having only the living room to frame and the storm windows to install, and they were proud to have finally built their dream home. Sure, they were up to their noses in debt, but they were making good money too. Aiden was a freelance combat instructor. Krissy was a banker. Their salaries got them a fixer-upper near the shore with beach access, and after a few months of work was finally starting to look finished. Krissy could hardly wait to move into it, but the thought that she would be letting herself be kept a somewhat agreeable if not hesitant prisoner was starting to give her butterflies in her stomach. Krissy said nothing as they wordlessly arrived at the back entrance, but once Aiden started unlocking the back door she started to press him for questions.

"You're going to let me free if I can't get out, right?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"How am I going to get out?"

"Not my problem. This is part of your training. You're going to have to figure it out."

"Oh, ha-ha motherfucker."

"I have faith in you," he said as Aiden opened the door and let her enter the kitchen, which they had just finished. Krissy cringed worrisome when she saw the two coils of hempen rope set purposely on the counter by Aiden. She turned to him, and again ever that wicked grin was set upon his handsome face, which met her astonished and concerned countenance.

"Couldn't we just fuck, Aiden?"

"We're not renegotiating. You lost the bet." Aiden took a coil of rope into his hands. "Face the wall and cross your wrists behind you like I showed you," and Krissy in her apprehension did as she was asked, a weak smile played across lips that may have betrayed a hint of a quiver of nervousness.

"Fine, asshole. You got me." Krissy turned to the wall, put her arms behind her and balled her hands into fists before crossing her wrists behind her. Immediately, Aiden cinched them in a loop and with practiced and deft quickness bound his wife securely. Once the last knot was tightened, Krissy relaxed her grip. She quickly turned around, catching Aiden taking a picture of her with his cellphone.

Aiden took her by the arm and led Krissy into the drafty bedroom, warmed only enough by the skylight which let the sun in, guiding her into the corner.

Gently, he helped her sit down in the corner, where Aiden produced the last two coils of hemp and set himself near his wife to begin binding her ankles.

"You kick me in the face, Krissy, and you're going to wish you didn't."

Krissy made a raspberry and blew it to her husband. "I should kick you in the face and knock your ass out and cut myself loose to freedom, bitch!"

"I wouldn't do that, either." Aiden finished with Krissy's ankles and looped the last coil of rope around her knees, cinching them up rather firmly and knotting them securely. Smiling at his wife, Aiden quickly moved his head in and snuck a kiss on Krissy's forehead. She smiled back at him, trying hard not to let herself squirm in the pangs of arousal. "I should have headbutted you," she scoffed cockily.

Aiden responded by producing a bandanna from his pocket.

"No. You are not gagging me with that. How long has it been in your pocket?"

"A couple of days."

Krissy grimaced at that. "Use something else! How long since you washed it?"

"Not since before I wiped down my loads off your back with it."

"Motherfucker," her face crinkled in disgust. "You are so fucking gross."

"Well, you bitching about it isn't going to make it taste any better," and gently put the bandanna against her lips, against which she recoiled and resisted before Aiden gently pinched her nose shut, causing her mouth to open reflexively. Quickly and tenderly he placed the bandanna in her mouth, working it deftly around her head as she put up some resistance to the gag until the knot took purchase.

With that done, Aiden withdrew from Krissy and let himself admire his handiwork, taking out his cellphone and snapping several pictures. Krissy scowled from behind her gag, but refused to say no more-she didn't want to drool.

"Seriously, love-I don't know why you let me win sometimes," Aiden said as he stood up from sitting on his heels. He backpedaled toward the doorway, and paused once he reached it. "Now, I promise you that if you escape I will make it up to you by giving you fifty bucks and I will still give you a full and thorough body massage. All right?"

All Krissy felt herself capable of doing was to just stare at her husband and blink once in exasperation, her eyes flashing with the defiance that Aiden loved to see.

"But..."

Fuck, thought Krissy. There's always a fuckin' "but." She hung on that "but" waiting for the kicker, which Aiden suspended in front of her in cruel anticipation. How he loved to toy with her.

"I just realized that I'm hungry, and you're going to be hungry and I got to feed my prisoner or else that would just be inhumane. I'm going to get us some food. I think you can probably handle a half-hour tops tied up like the captive darling trooper you are. Are you going to feel safe while I'm out?"

Krissy felt like admonishing him. Am I going to be safe trussed and tied up here alone in this room while my husband who has taken me captive goes out to get me food?

Krissy sure didn't like the idea of being left alone while trussed like Thanksgiving turkey in a remote drafty house while her husband went to get themselves food. This went against anything safe in kink, and flew in the face of all common sense or regard to the one in restraint. But this was also the one who was teaching her advanced martial arts and techniques and how to get herself out of trouble lest she find herself in it. And these little kinky little diversions were also exercises designed by Aiden to promote readiness in life-or-death situations, in case she was kidnapped by human traffickers or cultists or any run-of-the-mill kidnapper and needed an edge to survive an ordeal. And, with that maxim in mind and knowing that she could trust her husband with her life, Krissy blinked again soundlessly and shrugged.

"I'll take that as a yes, love. You're so awesome. I'll be as fast as I can, but you got this." Aiden stood in the doorway and blew her a kiss, then shut the door. Krissy didn't hear him lock it, and she was relieved at least that she wasn't complete altogether jailed. She listened to his footfalls where his feet met the carpet before the sound changed to footfalls on the kitchen floor linoleum and then they were out the front door where beyond they grew fainter in the driveway where Krissy heard her love and life partner open the door to his Dodge Challenger and then close it. The engine roared to life, punctuating the sound of the ocean waves nearby and then drove out carefully and with graduated control out the driveway and into the street and beyond.

Krissy focused on the sound as it grew fainter from her hearing until it was drowned out in the cacophony of the breakers. She shivered, half from the chill of the drafty house and half from the excitement of her predicament, happy to at least have a layer on and maybe even a little proud that she was wearing her dojo's jacket as she earned it for making her black belt, though maybe she wished she didn't button it so high as it would be easy to shake out her wedding ring from her jacket's left pocket with her right hand.

She started testing her bonds, finding she was bound a little tighter than normal. Restrained not long after exerting herself in the contest with her husband perhaps made her relax a little more than usual, when her wrists were being pinioned behind the arch of her back. She began to move and stretch her fingers to keep the blood circulating and her digits from swelling, and to focus on her breathing to minimize the stress. Also, she was starting to get aroused, her crotch getting warm from the thought of being in duress. Krissy realized that she really needed to concentrate and focus on escaping instead of giving in to the ecstasy and orgasm. Krissy began to take shorter, shallower but more controlled breaths, and started to work on rotating her wrists to loosen the loop enough to give her right hand enough slack.

Eventually after working against her husband's knotwork, Krissy got her right wrist loose enough to get the loop up near her forearm, permitting her enough slack to reach around her left hip to get to her left jacket pocket. Her fingers strained to reach, but carefully Krissy applied gentle pressure towards the strain and sharply inhaled, pulling her solar plexus in. Her fingers finally found purchase with the pocket and with a deft movement shook the ring loose from within onto the carpet.

Krissy carefully tilted her head to see the ring, then groped until her thumb and forefinger from her right hand felt it and picked it up. Carefully, she maneuvered the ring in her fingers until the diamond set in its band-one with a prominent edge on the vertice of its adjoining facets made contact with rope, whereupon she started applying short brisk movements to the fibers of her restraints.

The minutes seemed to slow and Krissy became hyper-focused, her breathing becoming more calmer and her mind set to her task on freeing herself. She had managed to fray enough fibers when another engine started coming up the road, towards the house. The unfamiliar sound became concern-the car was definitely coming over and it was most definitely not Aiden's car. It was a disruption, and now a sense of urgency at once replaced the calm that Krissy had tried so hard to attain, and she now redoubled her efforts to get free. The butterflies that had once felt like they were gathering in her stomach upon being held in custody was now replaced by a feeling akin to rocks, and she began to feel the helplessness of panic settle upon her when the strange-sounding vehicle pulled into the driveway, more or less in the vicinity where Aiden had parked. Krissy heard the brakes gently squeal to a stop, and the engine turn off. A moment passed, and then she heard a car door open and someone disembark. The car door shut, and then footfalls approaching the house, yet Krissy's dread increased when it became clear this visitor was approaching the side door instead of the main and more visible door.

The footfalls set upon the little side porch, and stopped in front of the door. Except for the sounds of the shore nearby and the sound of the stranger popping out one of the panes to get access to the doorknob from the inside and the sound of her heartbeat and the rustling of the folds of her jacket as she strained to return the ring back into her jacket pocket, all was silent.

The side door opened, and inside stepped someone with a very particular sound to their step. It was walking toward the bedroom and Krissy, and her pulse began to quicken and a knot of fear grew in her gut-the fear of being harmed was a very realistic possibility. Her knees would have started knocking were they not tied together.

The bedroom door opened, and in walked a rather well-attired man in a wool overcoat and a vest, suit and tie underneath clutching a black briefcase in his left hand whom Krissy had never in her thirty-two year long life had seen. He seemed genuinely startled to see the sporty-looking woman gagged and bound in the corner. He set his briefcase down and stood in front of Krissy on the opposite side of the room, regarding her with a strange smile on his face. Krissy was almost on the verge of fighting tears, her fear was becoming almost difficult to conceal and the panic nearly too dauntless to resist as he cooly regarded Krissy, almost as if he had taken her prisoner. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette case and withdrew a long black-wrapped one and seemingly produced a cigarette lighter almost out of thin air with some sleight of hand Krissy had never seen. He lit the cigarette, took a long deep drag, and then blew it out slowly, in the direction above Krissy's head.

"Now thereby hangs a tale," was all he said.