Michael see’s something in his new outside Accountant, Charlotte. A stunning redhead with a body that was built for lust, he discovers a deep-seated desire for submission and subjugation. Work draws them close, but Michael is after her passion, pushing her past her limits with each sexual encounter.

Michael knows what women need, even though they might not know what they want. Owner of the successful FANTASY BONDAGE HOUSE. Fantasy Bondage House, Michael’s club is not for the individuals that want to rent a room for a few hours of private bondage with their partners. Fantasy Bondage House is for the wealthy to indulge their most perverted fantasies, but Michael takes it one-step further, knowing that humiliation is a powerful aphrodisiac. He has stages that cater to his patron’s fantasies, but they must perform in front of others, Michael interjecting unknowns that only drive their arousal to shattering orgasm of shame and lust. Its stranger pitted against stranger, their bodies and souls lay naked before the audience.

Charlotte is scared of her own body’s betrayal each time Michael is near. She cannot stop him as he draws her deeper into the dark world of perversion and submission. He takes possession of her body, using her in perverted acts that she never knew existed until finally she finds comfort in the surrender that only stringent bondage and final subjugation could provide her. Is she a plaything for Michael, taking her in every manner until he tires of her? Is there more behind the dark eyes of this dominant man then his lust for her female flesh or will she find her true happiness with another?

FANTASY BONDAGE CLUB is another classic tale of sweet surrender told by Powerone in his unique style. Fans of Powerone are drawn into his stories, rich in detail with powerful images drawn by his style. By time you are through reading, you will wish you could trade places with Charlotte. Or that you did.




Charlotte wasn’t sure when it all began. It was an early age, about the same time she started thinking about sex. It started innocently enough. She was still playing with boys, neither of them knowing or caring anything about sex. It was a game of Cowboy and Indians. Charlotte was the youngest, so she was picked to be one of the Indians. A squaw, though she was an Indian Princess. The cowboys captured the Indians, they always did. The Indian Chief was a mousy boy that was not much older than Charlotte. Before she knew what was happening, the other five boys, the cowboys, had pulled out some ropes and Charlotte and the Chief were tied to a tree. Her arms were pulled behind the tree trunk, a rope around her slim waist holding her pinned to the large trunk of the tree. Even her ankles were bound. That was the first time she felt it—dampness between her legs that she didn’t understand.

The boys started tickling her once they had her secured. In shorts and a tee shirt, Charlotte found herself with ten hands running over her body as she struggled in the tight ropes. The more she struggled, the more the ropes hurt, the more the dampness increased. They were all laughing as they tickled her, but one boy, Mickey Thomas was different. He had a serious look on his face and his hands slipped under her tee shirt. While the others tickled her as she squirmed, his hands slid higher up under her tee shirt until she felt the first touch of a boy’s fingers on her nipples. Her breasts were not even formed yet, but her nipples got hard, Charlotte not understanding why. He pinched one of her nipples and then it was over as fast as it started, the boys releasing her, all of them laughing about it. A harmless fantasy, sure that many girls had one like it or similar. For Charlotte, it was the start of a long journey that she was just coming to grips with. You would have never expected anything like this to be in her head. Twenty-five years old, she had red hair, natural red hair, not a touch of dye used to make it this color. Her skin was fair, redheads tended to have lots of freckles, Charlotte no exception. Charlotte was different in one category. She had brown eyes, not green eyes. A rarity, one that she told everyone if they didn’t notice. She felt special because of it. She wasn’t sure why she had such an innocent look on her face, maybe it was the brown eyes or the small, pert nose or maybe the small oval mouth that always smiled. She could get away with anything, no one able to comprehend that she could do anything wrong. She could cover her eyes with mascara, paint her lips with ruby red lipstick, yet no one would ever consider her the bad girl. She didn’t dress to highlight her figure but didn’t try to hide it. She worked too hard to keep it that way. Charlotte had 36-C’s, the same as the redheaded actress Christina Hendricks, who plays feisty secretary Joan Holloway in the American drama Mad Men. When the show came on cable, Charlotte almost wanted to boast that they both had the same bra size. Charlotte even went as far as to buy a sexy red dress like her, though she never wore it out in public. She would look like a sex siren in it. The dress did hug her ass nicely, Charlotte walking back and forth with her back to the mirror so she could see the gentle sway of her buttocks. She had long legs, at five feet, nine inches, she was taller than most girls, almost as tall as the average male, but no one ever noticed that. They never got past looking at her breasts.

Her sex life and history was uneventful, if you could describe it that way. She lost her virginity at sixteen, like most girls, in the back seat of a car; at least it was a Mercedes, though it was the boy’s parents’ car. She dated regularly through high school and college but never had a steady boyfriend longer than six months at a time. In college, she told herself it was because she was dedicated to her education. After school, it was her job that took her traveling too much to have a serious relationship. She graduated with honors in a little over three years, onto grad school where she got an MBA. Her parents were not poor, though not rich, yet they paid for almost all of school. She went to work for one of the big four accounting firms, passed her CPA exam on the first try and has been bored since then. It was challenging but not exciting. At twenty-five years old, she felt fifty. She was looking for something new.

* * *

“You ever been tied up by a man?” It was after their third drink, dancing and finally sitting back down, Charlotte sitting across from her best friend from college, Rachel. She didn’t say anything, so she repeated it, not sure if she heard her over the loud music. “You ever been tied up?”

“I heard you,” Rachel said, thinking about how she wanted to answer it. Even best friends had some secrets, mostly about sex. She wasn’t sure if she never said anything because she was afraid of how her best friend would react or was she ashamed of what she did. “Yes,” she blurted out, but she could already feel the blush on her face. Rachel wasn’t as good looking at Charlotte or as successful, but she never felt that she was inferior.

Charlotte was surprised by her answer. “How come you never told me?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel answering back.

“Are you going to tell me now?” Two men came up to the table to ask them to dance, Charlotte hating that she wouldn’t know the answer right away but never push a man away, especially two as handsome of these. Charlotte and Rachel got up and moved to the dance floor. Rachel was a better dancer than Charlotte, her body moved as if she were making love to the man in front of her, her hips gliding with such ease. Charlotte struggled to keep beat with the music. They danced through three songs, the last slow, Charlotte feeling the strong hands around her waist drawing her against him until she felt the unmistakable bulge of his prick against her. She tried to pull away, but his hand slid lower, almost on her ass, keeping her pinned against him as his prick moved salaciously back and forth over her mound. He ground his hard organ along her slit and all she could do was get wet. Finally, the song was over, both of them going back to their table, leaving the men. Charlotte looked over at them when they sat back down and they were already dancing with two new girls. The one she danced with didn’t need to be so demanding with his new partner, the girl almost fucking him on the dance floor. “Let’s go outside. I can use so fresh air,” Rachel finished up her drink. She didn’t want to explain to Charlotte in the middle of a noisy, crowded bar. Charlotte was ready to go anyway. She hated the way her body reacted to the last man. He forced himself on her, and all she could do was grow aroused by it. Is that what it would be like if a man tied me up? “How about if we go someplace and have a cup of coffee?”

“Yes, that would be good. My ears are ringing.” Rachel got up and followed Charlotte out the door. Lots of men looked at them as they left, almost the same way Rachel looked at Charlotte, her eyes drawn to her ass, her skirt hugging the twin buttocks in such a delightful way. They swung back and forth almost seductively. Rachel wasn’t a lesbian, but she wouldn’t turn Charlotte out of her bed, though in all their years of friendship, the opportunity never came up.

They sat at the table in Denny’s, the place almost empty. The waitress brought them coffee quickly and then disappeared. “Well?” Charlotte was anxious.

“It was two years ago,” Rachel finally beginning, though it was fresh in her mind and in her masturbation fantasies.

“Bill Thompson,” Charlotte blurted out after trying to remember whom Rachel dated two years ago.

“Are you going to let me tell the story or are you?”

“Sorry,” Charlotte responded sheepishly.

“No, I broke up with him already. His name was Sam. We only went out twice.” Rachel could see the shocked look on Charlotte’s face, Rachel allowing a man that she hardly knew to tie her up. “He was a real gentleman on our first date, just dinner and a movie. He barely kissed me, though he was a great kisser. On our second date, we went to an early movie, dinner afterward. We both drank a little too much. One thing led to another, and I found myself at his house a couple of blocks away. It was a beautiful condo on the tenth floor of the building, all glass on one wall opening up the night and the lights below as if it wasn’t real. He brought me a drink, Tom Collins, lots of ice and one for him. He didn’t let me take a drink, kissing me instantly. He wasn’t as gentle as before, but it didn’t seem to bother me then. In fact, I kind of liked it. He was a real man. His tongue entered my mouth, jabbing in and out and all I could think about was that it felt like his prick. I responded to him, my tongue darting out and dancing with his. His mouth was pushed tight against my lips, almost sucking all the air from me, my nostrils flaring, but I didn’t care. I found myself loving that my body was surrendering. He must have felt it, too, because he became more demanding, more domineering.” Rachel stopped for a second, taking a sip of her coffee, noticing the way that Charlotte’s large breasts were heaving. She was growing aroused by the story. So was Rachel, just as she always did when she was naked and in her own bed.

“Did this really happen?” Charlotte could barely catch her breath, almost feeling as if she were there and not Rachel. “How come you never told me before?”

“I wasn’t sure you would understand, and yes, it’s true, every single word of it. Now, you want me to continue?”

“Oh, yes, tell me every detail.” Charlotte clenched her legs together, squeezing her pussy muscles as she felt the dampness growing.

“We were on the couch—modern, with lots of chrome. It didn’t take long until his hands began to move over my body, but I seem to recall that I took one of his large hands and placed it on my breast before he did it. He squeezed hard, my reward, as I moaned loudly. God, I never felt anything like it before. His lips moved down my neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail on my skin, his hand clenching and unclenching on my breast as my nipple soared to such hardness. His tongue dug into my ear, again my thoughts of his prick sliding in and out of me racing through my head. I found my body sliding down onto the couch until I was on my back, Sam kneeling over me. I watched as two large hands engulfed my breasts, not to caress them, but they kneaded them like bread dough. I could feel the way my nipples sprang to attention, begging to be touched in the same way. I lost two buttons when he pulled my blouse open, but I didn’t care, his hands finding the bare skin of my belly before they slid up under my bra. He didn’t even open it, instead his hands finding the hot flesh of my naked breasts and pulling the bra up until it was under my chin. I looked at the way he looked at them, smirking as I felt the way my naked flesh was pushed through his strong fingers as he squeezed them like melons. No one had ever touched me like that before.”

Charlotte could imagine the way her naked breasts looked; red marks where his fingers had dug into the tender flesh. Charlotte’s nipples hurt, too hard from the story.

“I watched in slow motion as his head moved down to my naked breasts, his five o’clock shadow feeling like sandpaper as his head moved into my cleavage. He shook his head back and forth; as my breasts formed a pillow around his face. It felt like he was rubbing my skin raw, but all I felt was the frantic clenching of my pussy muscles. I cried out in joy when his lips clenched onto one of my nipples. He was impatient, sucking the hardened tip into his mouth, his teeth trapping it just below the nipple as the powerful suction forced it to grow elongated. It felt like he was going to pull it from my chest, but then his tongue came out and attacked the sensitive tip. My panties were drenched as his tongue played back and forth over the tip until it hurt so bad and felt so good. He worked over one nipple for at least five minutes before he concentrated on the other. His fingers found the unprotected one, and I felt the pleasure as his strong fingers pinched it so hard that the blood felt like it was swelling up into a balloon in the tip. I couldn’t control my lower body, humping up and down frantically, wanting to feel a prick between my legs. His mouth and head moved back and forth between my breasts for long minutes, keeping me on the edge. I wanted so much to reach down and grab his prick, but I didn’t, lying submissively on my back, naked to the waist as he worked over my breasts.”

Rachel could barely breathe, thankful the waitress came over to fill their coffee cups as Rachel struggled to contain her arousal. She could see that Charlotte was suffering a similar state of arousal. Charlotte was glad that she finally left, putting a little bit of crčme in her coffee before she let one of her hands slip below the table and into her lap. She kept it still, but she wanted so much to thrust it under her skirt and rub her pussy.

“I wasn’t prepared for what he did next. He sat up, his large hand grabbing my ankles and pinning them together. He flipped me over onto my belly as though I didn’t weigh a thing. My face was pushed into the seat of the couch, but I felt one hand pushing down on my back and keeping me pinned down while the other hand made short work of my bra. He flipped me over again, this time completely naked to the waist. He grabbed my wrists, pulling them high over my head. I could feel the way my breasts were thrust out, Sam still not relenting until my body was pulled taut. He managed to hold my two wrists together with one hand as he gazed at my stretched, half-naked body.

“‘Spread your legs,’ his words rang out. It wasn’t a request but a demand. His hand slid down to my legs and yanked up my skirt until it was over my belly. I should have pushed him off and run from the room, but with only a whimper of surrender, my legs parted until I felt a strong hand between my thighs. I had to fight the orgasm in my body when his fingers dug into my mound as he grabbed me like a bowling ball, one finger pushing my panties between my lips. Like my breasts, his hand continued to move, clenching and unclenching as my hips humped back shamelessly on the masturbating fingers. He was still holding my arms with one hand while the other worked between my legs. I felt the disappointment when he stopped, but from out of nowhere, he was holding a small coil of red rope. My heart stopped beating, and I felt the sudden panic. It was just as I would imagine that it would feel like when you finally realize that you were going to be raped and there was nothing you could do about it. He released my hands, but I didn’t move them an inch. I felt a mini-orgasm race through my body when the ropes were curled around my wrists and tightened for the first time. I couldn’t describe the feeling of helpless surrender that went through my head. I looked over my head as he curled the rope repeatedly around my wrists, the red ropes highlighted against my white skin. He pulled the rope through the chrome arms of the couch, this time my body stretched tighter than before. I tugged on the ropes when he released them, feeling the pain as the rope dug into my flesh. He sat back up, his eyes devouring my half-naked and defenseless body bound to the couch.

“He pulled my skirt off, my panties ripped off with such force. I didn’t have to be told as he stared between my legs at my naked pussy. I spread my legs until I displayed all of my charms to him. I never felt so exposed or excited. But, he wasn’t finished yet, more rope coming out of nowhere. I knew where it was going, grabbing one of my ankles, pulling my leg to the floor. He made short work of securing it to the base of the couch. I don’t know why I was unprepared for the next, the rope lapped around my other ankle. He stood up and moved to the back of the couch. He pulled the rope and I watched helplessly as my other leg was pulled up high and back until it was over the top of the couch. It felt like my crotch was being split up the middle, my pussy lips slipped open as my legs were spread like a shameless whore. My body was almost bent in two, completely naked and legs spread, waiting for him to have his way with me.” She had to stop and take another drink or else she would cum in the booth. She knew like the other times she thought of this, just a touch would set off a chain of orgasms that would race through her body.

Charlotte found her hand moving between her legs when Rachel stopped talking for a moment. She pulled her hand away, hoping that she hadn’t noticed what she was doing. Charlotte could almost feel that it was happening to her, not Rachel. Her legs were even spread wide, quickly clenching her thighs tight. “Were you scared?”