Bondage and Other Tales

Marisa shifted position, the bell on its chain around her neck jingling; when she came up against the limits of her current free range of movement, she had to reconsider the whole thing.

Soft cotton rope formed a colourful, precise design of elaborate wrapping and knots around her forearms from wrist nearly to elbow; the lacing between them was slack enough that she could move her arms something like a foot apart, but the complex weaving would be difficult if not impossible for her to undo alone.

From her ankles to just below her knees, her legs bore a matching design, with about as much freedom—technically, she could get up from the couch, but it would mean very short steps.

It had taken some time to create, with Harley meticulous about every inch, every crossing, every loop’s tension. She’d given up on trying to convince herself it hadn’t felt wonderful every minute. While Harley had deliberately left her some room to move, on grounds of giving her the experience of restriction without making her feel excessively helpless—less freedom and more restriction each time—she was finding herself wondering what it would be like to be much more heavily restrained.

She also found herself wondering what the foster-cats would have thought of the whole thing, if they hadn’t been adopted into a forever-home two weeks ago. One of them had adored anything resembling moving string. Saying goodbye hurt, it always did, but they’d gone to a friendly pair who had actually come twice to visit them before making a final decision, and they were going to be safe and happy and together for the rest of their lives, which was infinitely better than their life path before they’d been scooped up by the rescue group. That helped enormously. With some regrets, Marisa had asked for a break from fostering, though with kitten season coming soon, she made sure they had her on a list as an emergency placement if they ran out of options. They probably would. Meanwhile, she just felt too scattered right now to really want that responsibility. Maybe with a cat she had a bond with, it would be different. Although how they’d handle ropes, and how Harley would feel about a cat that found moving rope intriguing, she wasn’t sure.

Claudia had told her that the ropes helped to still her mind and let her slow everything down so she could stay in the present moment. Marisa thought she was starting to understand what she meant. There was a lot to learn, but maybe she could just look forward to new experiences without being madly impatient for everything at once. She could try, at least, and she had help.

The rope design was, no question, really pretty, despite her prosaic black spandex shorts and tank top.

And her bell. It wasn’t on a collar, because it hadn’t taken much thought for them to agree that collars could involve some heavy symbolism they weren’t quite ready to tackle, but even hearing the bell jingle when she moved made her happy—along with giving Harley a way to keep track of her.

Harley glanced in her direction. “You okay, kitty-cat?”

“Mmhmm. Just still getting a surprise when I move.”

Claudia, in the dining room doorway, giggled. “Always fun,” she said dreamily.

They’d added sturdy ring-bolts, with the amused but sympathetic help of Claudia’s wright-witch friend Juanita, above the broad doorway linking the living room and dining room—three facing towards each room, spaced out. Juanita had made sure that they were anchored right into studs and fused solidly, so only the house collapsing would be likely to rip them free.

Whatever Harley was doing with all those ropes, far more than she’d used on Marisa, it was transferring a lot of Claudia’s weight onto the rings above her, via the rope harness around her torso and upper thighs. It was different rope, too, although it was also dyed in colours. Hemp, apparently, which she was told had better friction and could take more weight. In no hurry at all, Harley was gradually wrapping more and more of Claudia, incorporating everything into one overall design that limited more and more of her ability to move. Anywhere ropes crossed, they were woven into elaborate flat decorative knots. Claudia just looked blissfully relaxed; Marisa saw nowhere that she was trying to keep any control at all.

“Still comfortable?” Harley asked.

“You keep asking that,” Marisa sighed. “Yes, it is, and no, nothing is hurting or feels like it’s messing with circulation or anything.”

“Of course I’m going to keep checking.” Harley slipped a hand under a loop around Claudia’s thigh, checking and then adjusting the tension. “You don’t have the experience to know what to watch for, and even if we had lots of history I’d still be checking at least occasionally. Deal with it.”

Marisa’s phone rang.

“I thought I shut that off,” Marisa muttered.

“You might want to answer that,” Claudia said.

Marisa shot Claudia a suspicious look, since that tone sounded an awful lot like amusement and Claudia was suddenly very focused instead of the quiet, inner-oriented state she’d been in for over an hour.

Harley rolled her eyes. “I suppose you’d better, then, Ris.”

Marisa echoed the eye-roll, but she squirmed over towards her phone on the table. “Hello.”

“Hi. I’m looking for Marisa, Harley, or Claudia.” That voice was pleasant, friendly, and possibly male but she wouldn’t have bet anything on that.

“Um, you have all three of us, actually, if I put this on speaker.”

“That’s fine.”

She fumbled a bit with it, before finally setting it safely on the arm of the couch. “There we go. I’m Marisa, by the way. Harley and Claudia are both here in the room. Hands are just a bit busy.”

“Good enough for me. Hi, folks. My name is Sky. I’m the office manager for the morph-witch Octavia Whittaker. Darin from WyrdTech contacted us. Not exactly difficult, since his sister is married to one of Octavia’s cousins, and he witch-proofed our computer security. Anyway, Darin offered us the second beta-test of the new-and-improved Reverie, but asked Tavi for a favour as a thanks and apology for what I gather was a pretty emotional first beta-test that allowed them to add several new safety features. From the info I have—and we already did the NDA thing, so I actually have a fairly complete picture—it led to a pretty deep shakeup of personal identity for both you and Harley. Long story short, Tavi agreed immediately that all three of you get a free morph of your choosing, I assume to bring outside more into harmony with inside, and a reversal or adjustment or whatever you need at some point in the future.”

“That was only supposed to be Marisa and Harley!” Claudia protested.

“That was Claudia talking,” Marisa said.

“I figured,” Sky said. “Nope. I’m looking at the email right now, confirming the whole thing and including contact info. It came from Darin, and it definitely has all three names listed. I mean, you don’t have to, but the option is there. There’s an increasing trend in morphing as a kind of body art, so it’s unlikely that anything you want will lead to being stoned in the street, although it is still considered new and fringe and if it’s something visible then it will likely attract attention. Whether you consider that a pro or a con is up to you. A lot of employers, potential and current, object to long-term visible changes, but I gather Harley and Marisa are independent and I doubt anyone at WyrdTech will be horrified.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem for any of us,” Harley said.

“I suggest thinking seriously about what you really want and what impractical aspects there might be and whether you can put up with that, because something that sounds cool or looks amazing might actually be a royal pain in the tail in practice. Even something as basic as fur sounds great in theory and can be lovely on a cold night or for wonderful cuddling, but clothes and bathing get complicated. Trust me, I have a ridiculous amount of personal experience.” He hesitated. “Darin did bring up something I need to clarify. Metal implants won’t interfere, which was Darin’s main concern, but while Tavi can do some downright astonishing changes, she doesn’t specialize in medical morphs. Old severe damage can be incredibly complex even for morph-witches who do, because scar tissue and nerves and brain mapping and self-perception and a lot of other interlocking stuff.”

“No worries,” Claudia said. “I saw a medical-specialist morph-witch after the accident. It’s too messed up to rebuild, I know that, and it’s fine. Besides, why would I want to be less of a cyborg when that’s how I tend to identify? And I don’t want the scars to disappear. That accident tried to kill me and it failed. I won. Those are mine. If anything, I’d make them more visible.”

“She’s done that before. It’s actually not uncommon. I assume it’s the same drive that makes people tattoo scars to decorate them and draw attention to them. She can do an awful lot along a robotic sort of theme, trust me.”

“Hm, sounds like experience speaking there, too.”

Sky laughed. “You could say that. So. Right now, ideally, I schedule a visit time for the three of you to come in, and I pass on your contact info to Tavi, who will then get in touch with each of you to discuss exactly what you want. She will probably sketch out what she thinks you’re asking for and send it to you, just to clarify it, although Darin sent along handy three-dee images that I gather are avatars, as a general guideline. Be completely honest with her. I guarantee she’s heard stranger, and I promise, Tavi doesn’t judge, she just loves making people’s lives better. When everyone has the same expectations and understanding, it means that the final results are much more likely to be what you actually want.”

“Understood,” Harley said, “and true in many contexts. I think all three of us have relatively flexible schedules. WyrdTech will presumably understand Claudia needing time off, and Marisa and I control our own timing, as long as we meet deadlines for releasing new content.”

“We’re out in the country, although we do some days at locations in town. Is transportation a problem?”

“No, I have a car.”

“Is now an okay time to schedule that visit, then?”

“Give me a minute to grab Claudia’s phone.”

“You don’t need to,” Claudia said. “It’s mine. I can tune into it anywhere. Tech-witch, remember?”

Marisa tossed Harley her phone; Harley caught it neatly.

“When’s good?” Marisa asked.

It didn’t take long at all to arrange a date about three weeks in the future. The time made Marisa frown.

“She normally works that late?”

“No,” Sky laughed. “But it would take a lot longer to get you into a regular spot. We’re generally about as busy as we want to be. Tavi said to make an exception, and don’t worry, she can handle it. But she needs time before it, too, so she can build a completely clear image of what you want. If you don’t mind our rather unorthodox family arrangements and a rather simple meal, you’re welcome to hang around for supper. We’ll have the barbecue out by then, and my husband barbecues a mean burger. Including vegan ones. Our daughter decided that she’s not eating dead animals and we’re trying to respect that. We’re curious about your experience with Reverie, but I promise we won’t just grill you non-stop on it.”

“I think we’re sort of becoming our own unorthodox family,” Harley said wryly. “Sounds fun, and thank you for the invitation. Honestly, it’s been a bit frustrating not being able to talk to anyone outside of WyrdTech about the whole thing, and they have their own specific focus, understandably, so that might be a relief. Plus we might need time to recover before we drive home.”

“Probably. I’ll email all three of you the usual confirmation email with what to expect, which is largely what I just told you, directions, the link to our website and the FAQ on there, how to reach me if you need to reschedule or have questions that aren’t otherwise covered—and please just ask, because probably someone else wants to know too and I can add it to the FAQ, and like I said, communication makes this work better—and our standard pre-appointment survey. I think we already know most of it but it can still be helpful to think about the answers anyway and it might clarify a few details. You can expect Tavi to get in touch with you in the next couple of days.”

With due farewells, Marisa hung up.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Harley said. “Whose idea was it?”

“I’ll admit to nothing,” Claudia laughed.

“You could remember who has you all tied up, darlin’.” That threat wasn’t serious; the hand that came to rest near Claudia’s ticklish ribs might have been.

“Bully. Fine. I was maybe looking into morph-witches who specialize in transgender morphs. Darin caught me doing it and pointed out that he occasionally does some work for Octavia and has a family connection too, and she’s one of the strongest and most creative morph-witches alive. But I really wasn’t expecting him to include me.”

“You don’t owe us anything. WyrdTech as a whole, I mean.”

“Yes we do, because we really should have added better limits on pulling deep psych stuff to the surface and we should have stress-tested the hardware even more stringently than we did. Now we have, but even if the long-term effects are positive, you both had a rough time and didn’t exactly consent to that kind of session. So yeah, we do. Not about keeping you from wanting to sue us or wanting to make sure you say nice things about Reverie, just because a game shouldn’t have done that. Just accept it and we’ll all feel better about it, okay?”

“Um, I guess this means I get to figure out fast how badly I miss my kitty ears and tail,” Marisa said. “And my calico colours. A lot, I think, I keep looking for my tail and my skin looks wrong, but how much for real? And whether I really have the courage to not only walk down the street, but to still do my videos that way. And whether it would completely trash my audience.”

“Lots to think about,” Harley said. “It’s only been a month. I still haven’t talked to my family about gender stuff and I have no idea how they’ll react. I wasn’t expecting anything this sudden, just either months of wading through the medical approach with a lot of it paid by provincial health care or months on a waiting list for the morph-witch approach after coming up with the money for it myself. Which is really stupid from an efficiency and economic standpoint, but since when do government rules make sense? Anyway. We’ll sort it out, Ris, but not right now. Turn the ringer off—again. I bet it was already off and someone turned it back on so you’d get that call. And put it down. Still comfy?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Marisa said, and dutifully obeyed. That had been a base condition: be here, now, in the moment, no phones or other outside contact without Harley’s express permission. “And yes, still comfy.” She tucked her feet up beside her, and leaned against the arm of the couch.

“Good. As for you...” Harley checked several ropes by hand and eye, then picked up another coil. “I’ve still got lots to do with you, Claudia.”

“Oh, good,” Claudia sighed happily. “No more interruptions now, so I can just get back to relaxing and enjoying your hands.”