Bound For The Tour 2: Inside The Ropes

by Commander James Bondage

  Bound for the Tour II:

  Inside the Ropes

  Copyright 2015 Commander James Bondage

  Published by Strict Publishing International

  Chapter One: Kit

  When you are 18 years old, you don’t have any time to waste; everything has to happen right this second. But by the time you reach the ripe old age of 25, you begin to ask yourself what the big hurry was all about, reflected Emily Thayer. She was sprawled bonelessly across her sofa, silently watching in amusement as her younger sister struggled unsuccessfully to make herself uncomfortable on Emily’s Eames lounge chair, which was possibly the most comfortable piece of furniture ever made.

  Finally, Emily spoke. “I still don’t get it, Kit,” she said. “Just go over it for me one more time, if you don’t mind.”

  “Kit” was her sister’s nickname, although since hardly anyone ever called her anything else, it had taken over as her normal first name for all but the most important occasions. Like Emily, Kit Thayer was a stunning, blue-eyed blonde, but she might have been even more beautiful than her older sister. She had the same classic, aristocratic features as Emily, the straight nose, high thin arching eyebrows and a delicate facial bone structure, which together with her long, graceful neck gave her a strong resemblance to Audrey Hepburn.

  The resemblance to the scrawny actress stopped at the neckline, however. Kit had a well-muscled body replete with the kind of luscious curves that Hepburn never dreamed of possessing. Her waist was so narrow that it exaggerated her hips, legs and buttocks, making her more than adequate physical attributes seem extravagantly lush. Her breasts rode high on her on her ribcage, again making her look bustier than she actually was. She was a knockout and, had she wanted to, she could have had every young man she knew at her feet.

  But Kit was not interested in boys, or girls, for that matter. She was not interested in romance at all. In fact, she was only interested in one thing to the exclusion of practically everything else. She pounded her fists into the padded arms of the chair in exasperation, took a deep breath and said, “It’s not that complicated, Sis. I don’t want to go to college; I want to do what you do. I want to be a professional golfer. You know I’m as good as you were when you were my age…”

  As a matter of fact, Emily told herself silently, you are better, although things being as they were, it would hardly help matters to say so.

  “…and I’m ranked in the top twenty amateurs in the country. I know I’m good enough to make it on the Tour.”

  “But what’s wrong with college? That’s the part I’m not getting,” Emily asked. “You have full golf scholarship offers from Duke, North Carolina, Stanford and I forget where else. College golf is a great way to prepare for the professional tour, and college life is a wonderful experience. When you finish four years there, you’ll be ready to earn a Tour card…”

  “Like you did?” Kit interrupted. “I seem to remember that you had some problems even getting a card out of college. Then, when you did get it, you couldn’t win enough to keep it. It wasn’t until after you and Shelly spent that year with your swing guru, that Traynor dude, that you finally managed to get your card back for good and start winning on the Tour.”

  She jumped up from the chair, spread her arms wide, and spun in a circle. “And look at you now: you have this great house, a number 16 world ranking, and a seven-figure income from prize money and sponsors. That’s what I want, Em. I want it so bad it hurts.”

  She knelt at her sister’s feet. “Please, Emily, can’t you help me get Traynor to take me under instruction? All I’m asking you to do is write a letter.”

  Emily found it almost impossible to say “no” to her sister. The two girls had been orphaned when Emily was eighteen, after their parents were killed in a car accident. Emily had raised Kit and, in retrospect, may have spoiled her a little, trying to make up for the younger girl’s loss of both parents at such a tender age. She was weakening; instead of a flat refusal, she was trying to reason with Kit. That could only end one way, as she knew from long experience. The next argument she won against her smart and tenacious younger sister would be the first.

  “If you knew anything about Traynor, you would know that he doesn’t take on eighteen year old girls,” Emily said. “He only wants women who have failed as professionals already, and are desperate enough to do anything, and I do mean anything, to get a Tour card.”

  “Well, what are you talking about exactly?” Kit demanded.

  This was just the question Emily had wanted to avoid. She thought about her contract with Traynor, the non-disclosure clause in particular. Under this clause, she was contractually bound not to give out any details of the swing coach’s special training methods to anyone.

  If she violated the non-disclosure agreement… well, three years ago there had been a German girl named Berta Lund on the Tour who Traynor believed had blabbed his secrets. Traynor had exercised his rights under the non-disclosure clause every girl he trained had to sign, and had sold shocking footage of the beautiful Lund performing sex with an unidentified man (although everyone who had trained under him knew it was Traynor) to an Internet porn site. There, before the whole world, was crystal-clear footage of poor Berta performing oral sex acts like a professional hooker, pleading on her knees to be taken sexually and in her rear, kneeling before the man begging him to whip her breasts, deploying her tongue to bring another young woman (like the man’s, the second woman’s face was blurred) to a screaming orgasm, and a great deal more. The videos were a sensation, bringing in hundreds of thousands of dollars to the web site, and the story was all over the international sporting press. The scandal gave the Women’s Professional Golf Tour such a black eye that the Governing Committee suspended Berta’s card under the morals clause of the Tour rules. Berta had been permitted to return only this season, with a warning that, if there were any recurrence, she would be banned from the Tour permanently, both in the U.S. and Europe.

  Emily had no intention of risking Traynor’s wrath. She was all too aware that he possessed hours of video footage showing her doing exactly the same things that had nearly ruined Berta Lund’s career, and she knew he would not hesitate to release them if he even suspected she was in breach of the contract. On the other hand, this was Kit, little Kitten, her sister, and all the family Emily had. She shook her head, sighed gustily, and said, “All right, I’ll tell you what I can.” Her expression hardened, “But first I want you to swear that whatever I tell you now will never leave this room.”

  “Oh, I promise, Em,” Kit agreed eagerly. “You know I can keep a secret.”

  “You’d better,” Emily said grimly. “If you don’t, Katherine Morris Thayer…” Kit gasped at the use of her real name, which indicated how seriously Emily regarded Kit’s promise, “…I will deny ever saying it, I will call you a liar in front of the whole world, and I will never, ever speak to you again. Do you understand?”

  Kit’s eyes were wide, her mouth sagging open. She had never before heard her sister speak of a secret so seriously. Actually, she had never heard her talk about anything so seriously. She paused before answering this time, not because she was hesitant to make the promise, but to show her sister how seriously she was taking the matter. “Yes, yes, Emily, I understand. I’ll never tell anyone. I swear it.”

  Emily had grown tense when Kit did not answer immediately. Now she relaxed and sank back onto the couch. “Good. Now, before we go on, I have to ask you a question. Have you been sexually active?”

  Kit, who had been expecting Emily to supply information instead of being asked personal questions, flared up. “That’s none of your damn business, Sis. A
nd what’s it got to do with Traynor anyway?” she asked angrily.

  “Believe me, it has everything to do with him.” Emily replied. “Listen Kit: Traynor doesn’t offer his instruction for the money. He’s already rich and he really doesn’t give a damn about getting richer. What he gets out of it is… ah… personal attention from his students, if you follow me.”

  “You mean, I would have to have sex with him?” Kit asked. She made a face. “Well, I suppose I can put up with that. I’m not a virgin, you know. I wouldn’t mind letting the old timer get in my pants, if that’s what I need to do to get that Tour card.”

  “There’s a little more to it than that, Kit honey,” came a melodious voice from the direction of the dining area. Into the room strolled Emily’s Tour rival, housemate and lover, Shelly Littlefeather. “And you, Emily, I’m surprised at you. Do you really want to be the next Berta Lund?”

  “Oh, Shelly!” Kit exclaimed. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

  Emily looked up at her tall, graceful friend. Shelly had an exotic beauty that came from the mixture of her Native American father and Asian mother. Her hair was long, black straight and silky smooth, showing up spectacularly against her bright pink-red complexion. She had the high cheekbones and graceful stride of a runway fashion model, and the long, lean body as well. Shelly had been a child prodigy, and when she was still very young it had been predicted by all the experts that she would be the greatest female golfer ever to swing a club. But her first year on the Tour had been a disaster, and after that, everything went downhill, so that by age 20, she was considered a has-been, or possibly a never-was, and a national laughing-stock.

  Then she signed with Traynor, and spent a year under his harsh tutelage together with Emily. The two young women had been drawn together by their mutual suffering, and became sexually involved, at first for Traynor’s entertainment, but then had later become lovers and best friends. After Shelly finished the year with Traynor, she started her rise to her current status as the number one female golfer in the world.

  “Berta Lund?” Kit asked, looking up at Shelly in puzzlement. “What’s that little tramp got to do with… oh!” Her eyes widened, as the implication of Shelly’s question sank in. “The guy in those videos, that was Traynor?”

  “Yup,” answered Emily. “Berta is no more of a tramp than I am, or Shelly. He’s got videos just like that of us both, of every girl who ever signed with him. The videos are part of his price, along with the sex.”

  Kit’s head swiveled from her sister to Shelly, and then back again. “You mean, you let him tie you up and whip you, and… do all those things he did to Berta Lund?” she asked, half in disbelief.

  “All those things and a lot more besides, Kit,” Shelly answered, smiling sadly. “And we signed waivers that give him the right to use those pictures any way he pleases.”

  “That’s horrible!” Kit exclaimed.

  “Yep, that pretty much hits the nail on the head. That’s why it’s so important to keep what I tell you in this room, Kit,” Emily explained. “If he thinks somebody is gossiping about his operation… well, let’s just say that what happened to Berta was not just aimed at her but was intended to be a reminder to his other former students. Now that you know about the videos, the sex and the bondage, do you still want me to write to him for you?”

  Emily studied the appalled expression on her sister’s face as Kit chewed over what she had just learned. Maybe, just maybe, Emily thought, telling her what signing with Traynor entailed was exactly the right way to discourage her. She might just forget the whole idea, and…

  “If you two can survive a year with Traynor, so can I,” Kit said, setting her jaw at its most defiant angle. “I’m willing to risk it, the sex, his S & M games, whatever he throws at me. I can take it. Yeah, Sis, I still want you to write that letter for me.”

  Emily sighed again, and shook her head in resignation. “Ok, Kit, but you’d better have a plan ‘B’, because he probably won’t be interested in signing an eighteen year old.”

  They filled out the initial application form on Traynor’s web site, a page of questions asking basic information. Emily attached a note praising her sister’s intelligence, golf ability and mental toughness, and Shelly added her own recommendation based on three years of friendship with Kit.

  “He doesn’t bother with rejection letters,” Emily told Kit. “If you don’t hear from him in six weeks or so, it means he’s not interested.”

  That night, just before she fell asleep, Emily told herself again that she had nothing to worry about: Traynor had never yet signed a girl as young as Kit. So why, she wondered, did she have a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when she thought about that letter?

  Chapter Two: Dana

  As Roderick Traynor reviewed the application papers for the third time that morning, the expression on his rugged face gave no clue to his inner doubts. Why, he asked himself for the umpteenth time, was he even considering this girl? He had never agreed to train an 18 year old before. Why should he alter his long-time policy for this one?

  He lowered the manila folder containing the girl’s application papers, and glared with narrowed eyes at the source of his befuddlement. Sitting in the plain metal chair in front of his desk was a lovely young woman named Dana Watson. She was tall, athletic and well built, with long legs, a round, firm ass, and high, conical breasts. Her features were striking: a mix of Asian and Black, with dark eyes, a snub nose, a wide, generous mouth, and long, wavy black hair. She sat silently, her knees pressed modestly together, hands on her lap, quivering with anxiety as she waited for him to speak.

  “Ok, Miss Watson, I give up,” Traynor finally said. “I can’t begin to guess why you applied to train with me. From what I can tell…” here he tapped her file with his forefinger “…you are a top schoolgirl golfer, with the grades and test scores to get into any school in the country. If you need help getting a scholarship, I still have a few connections in…”

  “No sir,” Dana interrupted, “I don’t want to go to college. I can’t afford to go to college. You see, my father…” she paused, gathering herself, “…my father… is sick, and…” Suddenly the girl sobbed, bent her head low, and covered her eyes with the palms of her hands. Her shoulders shook as she wept. Traynor waited.

  Controlling herself at last, Dana raised her head to look at him with enormous, tear-filled brown eyes. “I need to make money to pay for his medical care, Mr. Traynor, and I need to start making it right away.”

  Her story was a tragic one. Hubert Watson was an electrical engineer and an inventor. He had his own company, which was successful enough to allow him to send his daughter to the finest private schools in New York, and to enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. He was, that is, until he fell ill and was eventually diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease, an untreatable and invariable fatal disorder of the central nervous system.

  “He had to sell the business,” Dana explained. “The money will run out in a year, eighteen months at the outside, and then… then, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She burst into tears again. Again, she struggled to master her grief, and continued. “I thought that if you trained me, I could make enough money playing golf to pay for…” She trailed off as she saw him slowly shaking his head.

  “You know that I charge a fee of $250,000, with $100,000 up front, don’t you?” he asked. “Did you expect me to give you a scholarship? On top of that, I have never taken a girl as young as you under instruction before.”

  Dana rose. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Traynor,” she said.

  “Sit down, Miss Watson!” Traynor barked. “I’m not through with you.” The startled girl quickly resumed her seat.

  “As a matter of fact,” he went on in a quieter tone, “the money is not really a big deal for me. In any case, I have yet to train a girl who didn’t win enough in her first year on the Tour to pay my fees back twice over. So, I really don’t hav
e to worry about the $100,000 advance. That’s mostly there to see who is serious about her application. This is obviously a special situation, so if I decide to sign you on… I said if… I will take care of you father’s medical bills while you train with me, and you…”

  When she heard this, Dana was unable to control her excited cry of, “Thank you Mr. Traynor! You won’t regret…”

  Traynor held up his hand like a traffic cop, and she subsided. “In return, instead of the usual one year, you will stay on here for five years to serve as my assistant. This will be your new home during your first years on the Tour. I am not a charity. Believe me when I tell you that you will earn every penny I spend on your father.”

  He pushed his chair back from the desk and rose to his feet. Traynor was an intimidating sight. He was only 5’ 9”, but he was built like an offensive tackle, his arms, shoulders and thighs bulging with corded muscles.

  Dana stared up at him wide-eyed as he loomed over her. “First though, I have to decide whether I want you at all. As I said, the money’s not a deal-breaker, but I have other requirements of my students that you may not be aware of.”