Plan 


I stared at the videotape. The title. The picture on the box. Yes, I'd
been looking for something like this, but hadn't expected *this*. It
was too close to my own fantasies. I knew I was going to watch it...
well, a part of me wanted to watch it, but I was also nervous.
Scared--it was as if I had waited too long for a moment just like this.
What would it be like? Would I not like it?

I'd known for a long time that I had some, shall we say, *wild* sexual
desires. I'd noticed when I was a teenager that I found certain
situations in movies fascinating. Well, I suppose I found them
fascinating even before I was a teenager. By the end of high-school,
they were definitely turning me on.

It wasn't a big thing; just that I was drawn to those scenes: where the
woman was completely at the mercy of some man. Or tied up. I never told
anyone-- who would I tell?

My boyfriend? Yes, well, it would have been great to have an
understanding boyfriend to share something like that with. Or *any*
boyfriend; I didn't date much--or you might say not at all: what was
the closest thing to a date for *me* was tagging along with a group and
maybe managing to talk to one of the guys for a little while. No, I've
never *really* had a date. Sometimes I figure it's that I'm so shy and
other times I figure it's my looks.

Well, Mom says I look fine, though I *know* she'd like me to lose some
weight. And my friend Connie told me if I lost the weight I'd look
terrific. She certainly exaggerated: my face and hair are, well,
average, or maybe better. And I really don't look bad: I'm only a
little overweight and, well, my body is the right general shape even if
my waist *is* too large. I'm clean and dress neatly, and manage to keep
myself looking decent, considering.

So maybe if I were skinny like Kate Moss, guys would overcome my
shyness and get me to go out. Or maybe if I just weren't so shy, I
wouldn't put them off. Do they have radar that says *shy woman--stay
away*? I do see plenty of women who look no better than I do with dates
and boyfriends and husbands. And the only guy who I can tell is
interested in me is Gus, the custodian at work.

So maybe my secret desire is exacerbated by my lack of a sex life. I'd
observed my own response to movies and since I don't live with my head
in the sand, I knew what it was that I was feeling. I'd seen the
references on TV, cute innuendo in sitcoms, suggestive references in
cop dramas, and read them in the occasional *Newsweek* articles. I
certainly knew that there were other people interested in, well, kinky
things like that, even though it all seemed far away from my own life.

And I'd discovered *The Story of O*. Yes, I'd heard something about it,
I don't know, in college probably, or I'd read something. But it was
after college that I'd run across it in a bookstore and summoned the
courage to take it to the sales clerk. I read that book. I couldn't
believe what I was reading--I must have read all night that first
night. I sat there thinking about how someone actually wrote these
things down and now millions of people read it! It was like a dream:
like that the book had been written especially for *me*! I realized
that even though I'd never talked to *anyone* about it, that there must
be tons of people who loved the same things.

I read it again and again. Yes, I made myself come while reading it.
Yes, there were some things in it that I thought were just silly, but
other parts- -well, there were passages that I read over and over. I
used to wonder: which of my acquaintances are into these things? Then,
amazingly, I got a clue.

It was a co-worker. Wendy didn't see me in her office door as she
talked on the phone. "Uh huh," she said, then listened some more. Then
she said "Yes, Master." That's what she said. Then it was "Bye." Then
she turned around and saw me.

She blushed so much. After too long a pause she finally said, "Uh, you
caught me being sarcastic with Greg." Her boyfriend.

I might have been blushing too. I left soon, after a short, awkward
conversation. I sat at my desk, my mind racing. No! She had been too
embarrassed just to have been caught teasing her boyfriend. They must
talk to each other like that. It must be some kind of game or
something; Wendy certainly seemed normal enough.

That's the way it would be: if millions of people buy *The Story of O*,
then they must be people who act just like the rest of us, except in
their own private situations.

The next time I saw Greg, Wendy's boyfriend, I found myself sneaking
peeks at him. Wendy had called him *Master*. And I'd heard the tone of
her voice: perfectly serious. I watched them for signs. Not a hint that
they were anything but a typical couple. They must be playing their
games very carefully while they were alone. Probably even more
carefully after their close call with me. At least Wendy would be, I
was sure.

I couldn't help myself: whenever I saw Greg after that, I always
thought about their games. I found myself thinking about Greg. He was a
man who would definitely be willing to play such games with me if he
and I were, well, a couple. I shouldn't dwell on him so much; instead I
should find another man like him. But I was so far from any sort of
relationship that I just found myself continuing to think about Greg.

Then I heard it: they'd broken p. I lay in bed thinking. Greg was
unattached. I knew where he lived and where he worked. I felt like fate
wanted me to, well, get him. Ha! Bag him or whatever.

As if I could ever do that. Send him signals so he'd come to me? Take
the direct approach and go to him myself? Me?!

But I still found myself thinking about it. A man who was into that
sort of thing! I got to thinking that *maybe* I was actually going to
do it! Me! Ask a guy out! All because the idea of becoming his *slave*
had me so turned on!

Would he go out with me? Sometimes I felt like I was beingcompletely
stupid: what chance did I have that he'd say yes?

Did I like him? I didn't really know him! What I *could* do would be to
offer him a casual sexual relationship. He was unattached--I *knew*
he'd be open to it if he could be sure no strings were attached.

I thought about it. A male friend--we'd be having sex sometimes just
because we wanted to. He'd be the master. I'd be a slave. Could I do
this? Just once, would I manage to bluster my way long enough to
propose it to him? I only needed to get my courage up for the short
time necessary to start things.

I'd lay in bed, thinking about it. And again, the next night. That's
me, thinking, and thinking, but never doing. And then I heard he was
going with someone.

I still thought about him, and Wendy. Two people I knew who were also
*into it*. How about his *new* girlfriend? Maybe she was into it too.

So there I was, back where I started, more or less. Maybe Greg would
break up with his new girlfriend. When would I ever know about any man
what I'd found out about Greg? Then I'd found the tape.

I was babysitting for my cousin Rachel, and well, I guess I'm nosey.
The tapes weren't in the family room, at least these weren't. No, they
were in the bedroom where I had no business looking.

*Night of Bondage*. A woman on the cover, in a leather dress, her hands
bound behind her, gagged, her legs tied. Ropes wrapped around her body.
She was tied up so much, I couldn't believe it. It was actually a bit
silly, but of course, I'd never seen anything *close* to what I was
interested in. I played the tape.

It consisted of a man tying up a woman, then untying her. And tying her
up again. Not even any sex! It really was kind of silly.

I wondered why I'd watched it all. I put the tape back and looked at
the others. There was *The Story of O*! I couldn't believe it! It was
on a bunch of cassettes. I immediately put the first one in the VCR.

It was *much* better than the other tape, though it extended the story.
I watched, nervously worrying about when Rachel and Dan would be back.
Finally I had the tapes back in their place, and I found some movie on
TV to be watching when they arrived.

And I felt it again: knowing about yet another couple who were *into
it*. I masturbated that night. I thought about Rachel, of all people,
as Dan's slave! Now I knew *four* people who were into it.

I had to see more of that movie: more parts to *The Story of O*. I'd
never been in an adult section of a video rental place ever before.
Would whatever place I chose have it? Could I ask for it? Finally, I
phoned places and found one with it. I told them not to reserve it. But
I did it: I went to the place and rented the next two in the series.
And went back to that place, again and again.

And I discovered *The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty*. And I read it and
the whole trilogy in a week. Now I felt like I *knew* I wasn't so
strange. For all the evidence you see that others like it too, you
*still* worry, especially if you don't talk to anyone about it.

But *that* changed soon enough. "So how'd you like the videos?" Rachel
asked me one day when we were at lunch.

"Videos?" I asked. Inside, I was wary. What was this about?

"You know, Dan likes to set things up so he can *see* if anyone has
touched our cassettes. *Especially* the babysitters." I gulped. "I
guess he sort of gets off on knowing things like that," she continued.

"Uh... I..."

"Which one did you watch? Did you like it?" I didn't answer, but just
stared at the table, embarrassed beyond belief. "Well?" she went on.

I couldn't answer! I just couldn't get the words out! As if I'd ever
have been able to talk to Greg! Finally she spoke again. "Come with
me," she said. She left some money on the table, and dragged me
outside.

She drove. My car was still at the restaurant. We pulled up at her
house. Dan was in the garage, working on something. We walked through
and she motioned him to follow. "Baby's at Grandma's," she said to me
quietly as she drew me in.

"Now," she said, after she'd pulled me into their master bedroom, "want
to see our toys?" I heard Dan somewhere in the house, walking around.

"Rachel..." I found my voice, but only for a moment. I felt I *had* to
stop this.

She had something in her hand. Like a little strap. She put it around
my wrist, then pulled my arms behind me and I felt her strap them
together. Handcuffs of some kind. I just stood there.

She was in front of me. Dan came in. He looked at me. Rachel whispered
in his ear. I looked back and forth between their faces.

Rachel was back, right in front of me. She was unbuttoning my blouse.
Dan had some more straps and things. A whip! Blindfolds! Rachel had my
bra off. "I think we should get to know each other a little better,
Cousin!" she said. She pulled me into a kiss. I felt her tongue in my
mouth.

Suddenly she was off me and I was spun around and face down on the bed.
I felt my pants being undone and pulled off. Someone was straddling my
body, Rachel I figured. Fingers went between my legs. "Yep, she likes
it," came Rachel's voice.