Kathy's Friend is Tied in Knots

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this, but the driver said she appeared to be upset and was crying for the whole journey."

"Thank you so much," I breathed. "I hope I can find her before she does anything foolish."

I did not need to ask more questions. There are only two motels in town. Green Acres is less than five minutes away on the banks of the river and Golden Palms was around 20 minutes away by car on the other side of town.

Leaving Kathy behind in case of further phone calls, I jumped into the car and eighteen minutes later, slid to a halt in the motel's reception car park, sprinting to the desk.

With my phone in my hand, I showed the receptionist Sharon's photo and asked if she had booked in earlier today. I got the same privacy spiel and almost leapt over the counter in frustration.

"Look I don't want to over-dramatise this, but I have reason to believe that the lady has been through a very traumatic situation and may be suicidal. We need to get to her -- FAST. "I'm not asking for the key to her room. I want you to come with me to bear witness. If she is fine and well, I will leave immediately. My only concern is her welfare."

I breathed a sigh of relief as the girl reached beneath the counter for her master key and told her colleague that she was just taking me upstairs to check on a guest.

I sprinted up the stairs two at a time, cursing quietly that the poor girl following me was taking longer. On reaching the door to room 104, she knocked firmly.

"Mrs Jones, it's the motel manager here. Would you open the door please?"

Silence. She tried again. Same result. Sliding the master key into the keypad, she opened the door. Sharon's case lay on the bed, unopened, but there was no sign of Sharon in the room so I headed towards the closed bathroom door.

"Sharon," I called. "Are you in there?"

No reply. With the receptionist standing beside me, I opened the bathroom door. Seated in the bath, fully clothed, was Sharon. Her eyes were dull and unresponsive. She stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of our intrusion. On the lip of the bath lay an old fashioned cutthroat razor.

Although Sharon was a deathly pale colour, there was no sign of any blood. Snatching the razor, I handed it to the receptionist, told her to destroy it and call an ambulance.

As she left, I spoke to Sharon.

"Come on Sharon. It will be alright. Let's get you out of this bath and dry."

She said nothing but did not resist when I placed my hands under her armpits and gently pulled her to her feet. Her wet clothes clung to her and now clear of the water, she began to shiver violently with cold. I peeled off the outer layers, leaving her in just a panty and bra, and covered her body with two fluffy towels.

I placed her on the bed, covered her with a duvet and waited for the ambulance.

The ambos were great. They checked her vital signs, noted the scars and looked me over with obvious suspicion.

"Left with the compliments of her ex," I explained. "She came to my wife and I to get away from him."

They clearly were not fully convinced but allowed me to travel in the ambulance with them to the hospital. On the way I rang Kathy and brought her up to date.

Check in at the casualty department probably only took forty minutes or so, but it seemed like forever. Sharon was still unresponsive, ghostly pale and shivering when a doctor arrived. He checked her condition and read the ambos' report. Like them, he regarded me cautiously when he saw the extent of her scarring.

"There doesn't seem to be anything physically wrong with her," he revealed. "She has a mild case of hypothermia as the result of her immersion in cold water, so we'll admit her for observation overnight. I fully expect her to be fit for discharge tomorrow."

After satisfying himself regarding the relationship with his patient, he allowed me to accompany her to her hospital bed, where I sat outside her room while a bunch of nurses fussed over her and made her comfortable. While I was waiting, Kathy arrived.

When the nurses were done, we entered Sharon's room, standing on opposite sides of the bed. We each took one of Sharon's hands. Kathy stroked her forehead.

"You scared us half to death," she whispered. "Why did you leave us?"

"I am just a millstone around your neck," she replied. "You were very, very kind to me but neither of you really want me around. Seems like nobody wants me around, so I thought it best to leave and let you two get on with your life."

"Oh, Sharon. You are so wrong about that. We both love you. Jay might have to come to terms with the physical side of our relationship, but he cares for you as much as he cares for me -- if only he would admit it to himself! You're not a millstone and never have been. In a very short space of time, you became a member of our family and we want you back again, don't we Jay?"

Time to piss or to get off the pot.

"Of course we want you back again. Why do you think I chased all over town to find you?"

Creases appeared on her brow as she considered the statement.

"How did you find me?"

"Long story and one for another time. The important thing is that I did find you. Now you have to rest and get well."

The dullness in her eyes cleared. It may have been my imagination, but I thought she was getting some colour back in her cheeks again. I smiled at Kathy.

"I think we should let the lady sleep and come back in the morning."

On the way home, Kathy and I discussed the future. We both agreed that Sharon should have a permanent place in our household. The detail as to how that might work was more convoluted. Kathy's simplistic solution was for all three of us to become equal partners. She was the wife with a certificate, but she forcibly demanded that all of her privileges in the marriage should be equally available to Sharon. She wanted us to sleep together in the same bed. She wanted us to make love together, not as two people with a voyeur present, but as three individuals sharing their love for each other.

We also talked about Sharon's submissive nature and her need to be dominated. While I provided some of those needs with my experience with rope, it was Kathy who was the true dominant, taking advantage of Sharon while she was tied with the most exquisite and sometimes painful punishments. Although I hated to admit it, watching Kathy bring Sharon to orgasm while she was fully immobilized was a huge turn on. The big question was whether Sharon would always demand her punishment, or or whether she would find a way out of her need for submission and truly become an equal partner? Privately, I worried whether I was physically capable of satisfying two women on a long term basis.

Our night was restless. We made slow, passionate love before fading into sleep, waking very early the next morning in anticipation of bringing Sharon home from the hospital.

The Sharon who greeted us when we walked into the hospital ward bore scant resemblance to the shaky shell of a woman we left there the previous evening. Her hair was neatly brushed into a tight ponytail and she wore a light make up. She also wore a cheeky smile.

"I've been a naughty girl," she breathed. "I think you should take me home. You WILL take me back, won't you?"

I scooped her out of the visitor's chair she occupied and held her in a crushing hug, her feet several inches off the floor, planting a series of kisses on her mouth, neck and face.

She returned my kiss just as a nurse entered the room.

"I think Sharon's ready to go home," she grinned. "We've done all we can here. Just make sure she doesn't need to come back again."

The release papers were signed, the hospital staff were thanked and Kathy picked up Sharon's small suitcase. Little was spoken on the drive home. Kathy sat in the back of the car so Sharon spent most of the ride twisted around in deep conversation, most of which was out of my hearing range.

At home, Kathy brought the small case inside while I led Sharon in by the hand. Over coffee a short time later, I tried to share our thoughts from the previous evening.

"Kathy and I believe that if we are truly in love with each other, living together as equal partners in our domestic relationship can work. Your special need to be dominated by us requires trust between all of us. Although I love tying you in various ways and placing you in positions that cause you discomfort and pain, I'm afraid that my upbringing makes it difficult for me to strike you in any way. I've never struck a woman and I am not going to start now. Kathy however, has some deliciously evil and painful tricks that will satisfy your desire for pain, both in rope and free of it, so perhaps we strike a perfect balance. If this is going to work, then we should also sleep together, make love together and play together. Any interaction excluding one of us will in the long term, lead to resentment and mistrust. We've arrived at this position without discussing any of our thoughts with you Sharon, so please tell us your preferences for our future, if we are to stay together. Whether you stay with us or whether you move on is entirely up to you. While we both hope you will stay with us, we will respect your right to leave if that is what you want to do."

With tears in her eyes, Sharon began.

"I want nothing more than to share my life with you beautiful people. You've shown me more love in the last few days -and particularly in the last twenty four hours -- than I have experienced in my lifetime. Of course I want to stay. I wil serve you both and love you both. I want you to discipline me when I've been naughty and you already know that I will be naughty when I need you. Sharing your bed every night is the most wonderful gift you could bestow on me. My only fear is that my presence may destroy the love you two have for each other. I would rather die than let that happen."

The room fell silent, each of us finding a sudden interest in the coffee cups we were nursing.

Sharon broke the silence.

"I've been a naughty girl. Shouldn't you do something about it?"

I swept her into my arms and carried her into the playroom where Kathy was already reaching for our bag of neatly coiled jute rope.

Over the ensuing months, we settled into an easy, loving routine. At times I made love with Kathy; at other times I made love with Sharon. Kathy and Sharon also played together regularly, something I found increasingly arousing to watch. More often than not I became involved in their play after they had satisfied each other. Often I tied both of the girls at the same time.

A couple of times a week, Sharon asked to be tied, but Kathy's punishment sessions became increasingly mild in nature, usually finishing with the two of them passionately coming together.

I was ecstatic. Life was so good that I wondered why, of all people, I had been granted such good fortune. As I walked into the house after work one day, I found the two girls sitting in the living room, hand in hand, trying to look devastated -- and failing miserably.

"Has somebody died?" I quipped.

Kathy couldn't maintain her sombre expression and burst out laughing.

"Just the opposite Doofus," she beamed. "Take a good look at our partner. We're pregnant!"

The baby we thought we could never have was thriving in Sharon's belly.

"No more rope for you while you're pregnant Sharon," I teased. "We'll just have to find a temporary bunny while you are indisposed."

"No we don't," Kathy chimed in. "We have all he bunnies we need right here."

"Are you going to be up for double duty?" I queried.

"Actually Doofus, you are going to take up the slack. Sharon and I will take over the tying and you can be our bunny. You and Sharon can still tie me occasionally but you will fill in for Sharon."

Jumping to their feet they dragged me into the spare bedroom. Once Sharon's private room, it was now our designated play space as all her clothes shared our wardrobe. I had removed the drapes from the four poster months ago to strengthen them with heavy steel tubing running across the top of the bedposts.

Feigning reluctance, I let the girls pull me into position and allowed them to pull my arms behind me to secure me for the very first time.

Could life get any better?