Her Journal

I was a friend of the family for years. Lived down the block. Years had gone by and now I babysat for Mrs. Anderson quite often for her nine year old. I was 18 and it seemed I knew Mrs. Anderson all my life. At least I thought I did. Mrs. Anderson was a single Mom. The father of her child left nearly five years ago. Never much knew why. Mrs. Anderson...Ok...Terry...was very attractive. My body had grown and I was quite aware of this for quite some time. Frankly, she paid me badly to babysit according to what a boy my age needed. But I was doing it more now to see her than anything else. She had no idea of my crush, but she had known me and my family since I was nine so that possibility probably never entered her mind. Terry kept herself in great shape for a woman who was probably nearing 40. She worked many hours in a business office to make ends meet. As far as I know...no real man in her life since her divorce. Not until now that is.

I'll always remember the evening I was snooping in her bedroom. Yeah...fantasizing too; when I found her journal in the back of a bedroom dresser drawer. I read throughout the evening with first shock...then the most unruly hard on I ever had. In the journal she exposed her submissive desires. She wrote of many fantasies she had. Most as the consensual submissive. Some...on what she called her "dark days" she wrote of fantasies of certain men at her office breaking into her house and....well...you know.

She came home early that night and I did not have a chance to put her journal back. I tucked it into my shirt to hide it when I heard the front door open. I went home with it. What choice did I have? Perhaps it was the thought of her looking for her secret book later that night and knowing that I had it that made me insane. Perhaps that and my own desires.

In the morning, after the bus picked up her daughter, I went to Terry's house. She opened the door and a robe was not doing a good job hiding a red nightie. "You have something of mine", she mumbled. I knew I had gone insane but I entered the house and told her to close the door. I then took a deep breath and told her that I would give her the journal back if we played out one of her fantasies.


I won't dwell on the cursing and objections that ensued, but redfaced and heading for the door she stopped me and agreed. I gathered myself and told her, "well then...let us start by you taking off that robe, getting on the couch and putting your arms behind your back". She complied...and the lust in me gladly took the coils of rope out of my pocket and started to bind her arms behind her back. She let out little squeels as rope tightened and well did it's job. I then pushed her to her back on the couch and duct taped her mouth shut. I then grabbed her upper arm and started to escort...well drag her to her bedroom. She started to fight me and ashamed I stopped. I pulled the tape from her mouth and apologized. Her breasts were heaving as she was breathing quite hard. Damn she was more beautiful than I ever had thought.

She collected herself and spoke directly and with a bit of venom. "I'm playing my role as the unwilling victim...you play yours you little bastard". The last thing she said before I re-gagged her sent shivers through my whole body.
She started nibbling a bit on my ear and said, "You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to find that journal". I then had no problem finding the strength to drag my fighting "captive" to the bedroom. In years to come I always wondered who exactly caught who.