Bring the Rope (Wicked Wednesday's Tale of the Storage Locker)

My heart-rate speeds up while I grin and do a little happy dance when I see his text.

Bring the rope.

It’s been too long since we’ve had the pleasure of rope play. Most of our belongings are stuffed into a storage locker while we’re moving. I came on an errand for one thing and seeing his request put me in an excited quandary.

I scan the rows of boxes until I find the one labeled business time. A little thrill shoots through me once I spot it. I have to do a little climbing and shimmying to free it from the rest of the stack, but I feel like a kid at Christmastime as I cut through the tape and flip open the cardboard flaps.

All manner of toys and implements beckon to me, but he only told me to bring the rope – which rope? The purple? The pink? The black? Plus, there's a great pair of stockings sitting right there, calling my name. Of course, I have to take them. I also decide on all three ropes, perfectly wrapped in tight little bundles. I’m just about to close the box when something purple and shiny catches my eye.

It’s one of my favorite butt plugs. The purple one that feels so good when he fucks my pussy while it rests in my ass.

I have to take it.

I can’t leave it in the box now that I’ve seen it. He won’t mind. He’ll probably be quite happy, actually. I stuff in into my sweatshirt pocket and pause when another item catches my eye. They’re the nipple clamps with the pretty chain connecting them. My mind suddenly conjures an image – My hands tied behind my back, nipples clamped and connected by that pretty chain, his hand wrapped around my hair, the other grabbing my hip, forcefully holding me in place while fucks me hard, his cock rubbing against that sweet purple plug.

I’m wet.

I want it so badly my mouth waters.

I stuff the chained clamps into my pocket along with the plug and grab the bag with the item I was originally sent for. It’s a pretty quiet Sunday, so I place the pretty purple, pink, and black ropes on top of my bag and close the locker.

I’ve just stepped into the elevator when a man comes hurrying around the corner and shoves his hand over the elevator’s sensor, halting the closing of the doors. I slide against the far wall when he steps inside and starts eyeing my bag. I give him a quick, strained smile, when he says hello, then glance down at my sweatshirt to make sure nothing’s poking from my pocket. He eyes the rope, but I keep my eyes fixed forward, thinking the elevator is taking a really long time to go one floor down.

I want to fade into the wall, but I settle for not looking directly at him and rock back on my heels. Finally, the doors slide open and I breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t suggest I go first. I pause, ensuring he’s a few steps in front of me before I make my own exit.

I felt so incredibly awkward – on that elevator with a stranger – all those ropes and little toys hanging out with me, but it was well worth it when I got home to Mr. Robinson. He was indeed pleased with my stash, and in the end, so was I!

Thank You, Marie, for this fun prompt! I've never been through customs, but I can imagine what an experience it would be with some fun stashed away where you thought no one would see!

© Hey, Mrs. Robinson | T.J Robinson