Lots and lots of rope

Even before I get downstairs, I know exactly what I want to use to tie up Alison. The fifty-foot hemp rope hangs from the wall in a loosely wound coil. I bought the rope when I had to take down a tree in my back yard and it served its purpose perfectly.

The thing that I like about this rope is that unlike cored climber's lines or modern nylon ropes the 3/4-inch twisted rope had all sorts of bristles that stuck out in every direction. The roughness is not like briars on a rose bush that will draw blood, but they are uncomfortable even on my calloused hands and I imagine they'll be even more so on Alison's creamy flesh.

I find Alison wearing an old, stained tee-shirt that has seen better days. The faded green shirt is at least three sizes too big for her slender frame and it hangs halfway down her thighs. The old tee-shirt has the name and logo of her dad's garage on it, and I wonder if this is one of her daddy's old work shirts. Somehow that makes this even hotter, like I'm taking Paster Miller's sweet little girl from the man.

“Take off that shirt, Honey,” I tell her firmly. “I want you naked when I tie you up.”

“Yes, Sir.” In spite of Alison's submissive response, she takes much longer than she needs to to slip out of the oversized shirt. I don't mind, in fact it is almost like watching a strip tease as she nervously slips out of the green shirt and clutches it to her chest.

“You still want to do this, Angel?” In answer to my query, Alison silently drops the shirt and extends her arms to me wrists pressed together so I can bind her. The rope is stiff as I loop it around her wrists, and it would be tough to tie a real knot, but that's not my plan anyways. With her wrists pulled together I pull them tightly to her pelvis and start slowly winding the rough rope around and around her body like she's a spool of cord. I like the way her fingers stick out from under the rope, she has plenty of room to touch herself if she wants to. Altogether I wrap twenty-two rings of the hemp rope around her covering her torso from her slender waist all the way up to cover almost her entire torso.

For a slaver, it is a ridiculous method for securing a prize when you could get almost the same effect with a couple zip ties and a belt to hold her hands to her belly. However, being efficient is hardly the goal, I want Alison to feel as much of the rope on her tender skin as possible, and by the time I've finished tucking the bitter end of the rope neatly into the gap above her tits she is trembling with desire.

“What are you going to do to me?” Her timid whisper is soft and breathy. It's a good question, basically I can do almost anything I wanted to this pretty young woman. The coil of rope makes a perfect handle to pull her to me and she is just inches from my face and on her tiptoes when I make her **** position clear.

“Maybe I'll throw you on your back and lift your ankles high in the air.” Alison's eyes open wide in alarm when she hears this possible plan.

“W-w-hat?” She stutters, “You can't! I'm saving myself for my wedding night.” As arguments go, proclaiming her innocence is hardly the best way to deter a lust-filled attacker, but as I already told Alison downstairs, I wasn't planning on fucking her anyways.