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Chapter 3 

Plotting Her Ordeal

I had always had a strong interest in the “outliers” of sexual scenarios with an especial interest in watching naked women squirming to escape after they had been bound with ropes and leather. In fact, one of Empress’s and my earliest dates involved a six-by-six piece of flat wood from a weight machine’s shipping crate. 

After our Detroit gym had closed for the evening and Empress had gone home, I dragged this heavy board inside from the back alley. On this particular night it was going to get repurposed. I propped one end up on a sturdy weight bench and allowed the other end to rest on the carpeted floor. 

The day before, I had dropped into a Goodwill store and purchased an extra-large men’s sweat suit. At this point I should explain that Empress is five foot nine and a half inches tall. Have you ever heard the expression you could bounce a quarter off her ass? Yeah, it was like that. She weighed a hundred forty-pounds, with the longest and most perfect legs ever assigned to a beautiful woman. She was too pretty for makeup, and I could have stared at her big breasts for hours, especially when she pranced around topless and teasing inside her living room while doing impressions of everyone from Scarface to Robert DeNiro to Chris Rock. If it weren’t for her nipples perking up at the slightest provocation, she might never have owned a brassiere (proof that even a goddess has at least one flaw). 

I knew from the beginning that Empress’s natural habitat was a Spanish nude beach or a runway in Paris, not gloomy Detroit. But all I could give her at first was Chicago,

Chapter 3

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and on our first trip, we stopped in at a Sharper Image store. On the second floor was a massage chair. Empress wanted to try it and the salesman thought that would be a great idea. She had a dark tan that made her look like a piece of living sculpture. She was wearing short shorts, and a thin cotton top with no bra. As she settled into the Shiatsu massage chair, it began to rock her from side to side, heaving her chest up and down as the rollers pressed into her back. She closed her eyes in a state of bliss, and when she reopened them, every salesman in the store, and every male customer, and I was watching to see if her nipples dared get even stiffer. The party began to break up when wives retrieved their husbands and the manager turned off the chair.   

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Whenever Empress flashed her mischievous smile with its brilliant white teeth, one never knew if they were about to be treated to yet another impression (think Christopher Walken, Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Cher) or if they were about to be humbled by a snide and witty observation. She was a sexually alluring, blonde “ten”, and my friends would often stare at her and then wonder aloud what the heck she was doing with me. Needless to say, I was quite enchanted by her and hopefully it showed whenever I attempted to satisfy her lust in our bedroom, which turned out to be every night.

As Empress and I drove back to the gym and the propped-up board on that early date, I told her she had a present waiting there. In a ta da moment, I presented her with the oversized sweat suit. I used to give her presents quite often back then, but this one only elicited a puzzled look from her deep brown eyes. I suggested that she change in the gym’s restroom and return wearing only the sweat suit with absolutely nothing on underneath. Still unsure of my intent, she did so and soon re-appeared with a cautious but trusting look on her beautiful face.

 By now I was sure that her curiosity had been piqued by this large, square piece of wood leaning against the bench. Gently, holding both of her outstretched hands in mine, I eased her back onto the board until she rested somewhat comfortably on it in the dimly lit gym. 

Tenderly, I blindfolded her with a black piece of cloth. The portion of her face that was still visible elicited a combination of both uncertainty and intrigue. Her long blonde hair spilled out on either side, and I produced a staple