The child psychologist adjusted her wire-frame glasses, pushed a stray wisp of her red hair from her face and looked across her desk at the ten year old girl sat opposite her, paper and pencils in front of the child. 'Delia,' said Doctor Nicole Harman gently, 'I'd like you to draw me a picture of what makes you very happy.'

Without hesitation the little girl picked up the pencil and carefully began drawing a figure. The girl could draw: probably better than anyone of her age that the woman had ever seen before. The little girl drew fluently, confidently, her pencil soon depicting the outline of a little girl.

The detail as it appeared was, as always, the child herself: same bright eyed expression, same hair, same clothes she was wearing that day.

The drawing would in its own way, Nicole knew, be exactly the same as the fifty or so she had in a file by her elbow. It would be a drawing of a little girl just like Delia - pale blonde hair in bunches, freckled face with big wide eyes and cute snub nose - but bound in some way. The little girl in the picture would be tied sitting or standing or lying, secured to something in the home or the classroom or even, as one of the illustrations depicted, outside a store selling chains and ropes and other bondage equipment.

The psychologist wasn't sure if the child had ever seen a store like that. There were none in the town where they lived. She didn't know whether it was just another product of a very fertile, very disturbed mind.

But that was the question: how disturbed was that exactly? Nothing fitted into the conventional theories. They didn't fit into the unconventional ones, either.

But the drawings - while obviously the work of a child - were detailed and convincing enough. The ropes (or sometimes even chains) would be criss-crossing the child's small body, pinning her arms to her side, behind her back, holding her knees and ankles rigidly together.

Tight ropes that even in the drawings seemed to bite deep into the child's soft, young flesh. It was disturbing to see, but was it disturbed? There was the dilemma that the psychologist was having trouble understanding. After all, the child in the drawing - little Delia herself - didn't look unhappy. If anything, the opposite.

It had alarmed the little girl's guardian, the thirty-something woman who had looked after her niece since Delia's parents had disappeared when she was less than one. Troubled? Scared? Lonely? Nicole mentally shook her head at those concepts. Delia Southern was cheerful, healthy, well-balanced, intelligent and with a good sense of humor. She wasn't crazy or dangerous or anything. She just liked to draw herself in bondage positions.

Strict bondage positions, as far as the doctor could tell.

Delia's guardian, her aunt Selma, had brought the child to see her along with a number of these carefully composed, intricate drawings.

'It isn't me,' said this Selma in despair. 'I have never encouraged to do this. She just... she started last year. One day she simply sat down and started drawing. This is the first drawing.' The woman had handed over a picture on a scrap of yellowed paper. It wasn't as good as the later drawings but clearly Delia had practiced a lot and the style was changing, becoming more solid, more realistic. Nicole had dabbled in painting herself, back in college, and she knew how hard it was to get people to look right. Yet Delia was managing it perfectly.

Delia, according to Selma and the child herself, had simply started without any prompting and had been prolific ever since.

'It just started,' was all the ten year old would say, when asked. 'I saw it in my head, like a dream. So I drew what I saw.'

'Can you draw anything else?' Nicole had asked the little girl on their first meeting. Yes, Delia had said. Lots of things. She was right too: she could draw houses and cars and trees and animals and farms. She had a gift, without a doubt. But bondage was never far away. She drew a horse, tethered to a fence. When she drew a little girl on the horse, it was clear the child's hands were tied. A picture of a child walking a dog showed the child with a collar and lead hanging down, chains on her little ankles. A child at a fun-fair, on a ride, was secured and gagged to the little sea-horse she sat on.

A picture of a beach, with kids playing in the sand in surf. That was the one Nicole believed was bondage-free. Until she examined it and saw, almost hidden, a little girl buried up to her neck in sand, gag over her mouth.

Then it struck Nicole: they were always girls, never boys. When asked about boys, Delia did what any sensible little girl of that age did. She wrinkled her nose.

Yet none of the girls in the pictures, including the ones with Delia in them, were distressed. But when the drawings were of everyday things, without herself bound and gagged or any child present, the girl included somewhere in them all a hint of bondage: a coiled rope, a doll's face at a window with a taped up mouth, a length of chain or even what looked like a ball gag lying discarded in a corner. Perhaps these things were small or almost hidden, but to Delia even an everyday scene had to have some reference to bondage, some hint of a darkness.

But that brought the next question. Was it darkness? To Delia it was clear it was happiness, indeed pleasure. No one who was bound in the picture - and that was mostly the child herself - was suffering. There was no blood, no anger, no threat. The bound girl, Delia herself in virtually every case, looked happy or content. It was almost as if the child thought comfort and security was being bound.

When Nicole asked the child to draw herself as unhappy, the picture was a revelation: three little girls all happily bound and gagged, standing in a line, almost radiating joy. At one end was the unmistakable image of Delia herself, not tied up, not gagged. Just standing, looking unhappy. Looking alone and left out.

'Why are you unhappy in this picture?' asked Nicole when she looked at what Delia had drawn.

'Because everyone else who likes being tied up is tied up. I'm not. No one cares,' she said, sadly.

'So happiness is being tied up?'

'Yes,' said the little girl enthusiastically. 'And gagged. Then I can't say anything and I like that.'

'Why?'

'Because,' sighed Delia, 'I can't ask for anything when I'm gagged. I can't ask to be free.'

'So you can't ask about not being tied?'

Delia looked puzzled. 'Why would I not want to be tied up?'

Nicole shrugged - which as a trained psychologist she always thought too vague, too unhelpful - and simply said: 'Because it's not what most people want.'

The child considered the point. 'But I'm not anyone else. I'm only me.'

That, the doctor concluded, was about as uncrazy as it gets.

Without prompting the little girl continued. 'Gags are good. So I can't ask to be tied up more, or in a different way. I can't ask to be retied in a new position,' she grinned. 'I can't even ask for a better gag!'

'Does anyone make you be quiet at home?' asked the doctor.

The child shook her head, making her bunches swing. 'Only when I gag myself. I go into my tree house and tie a gag in my mouth. Aunt Selma doesn't like it, or when I try to tie myself up, so I have to hide the ropes.'

'Does your Aunt think you will hurt yourself?'

Delia shrugged. She didn't know.

'Have you ever hurt yourself, tying yourself up?'

'No. I wouldn't,' said Delia firmly. Then she added with a smile: 'Tying up isn't for hurting.'

'And how do you tie yourself?'

Lots of ways, apparently, according to the child and the drawings.

That was what intrigued Nicole: Delia never drew quite the same position twice. Although she liked being tied to a tree or to a chair (was the wood significant, wondered the psychologist?) she was inventive in her bondage. There were images of herself bound to chairs or across a table or to something upright, like a tree or a post. In some she was kneeling, in some lying. She was always dressed and the drawings showed her often in her favorite clothes, though she was aware of how if she was lying down, tied spread-eagled to something, her little skirt would be up and you could see her panties.

Was this some basic plea to show her hidden side? The doctor dismissed the idea, reminding herself not to make quick assumptions.

Nicole had got the girl to describe the appeal of the positions. Delia explained what they were, how she liked this because it pulled her arms back, or that because it kept her legs apart, or the other one just because it was fun to tied that way. She even said she liked being tied over a fallen tree trunk, out in the woods, left to look up at the night sky and all those stars above her because, well, they made her feel like no one else could appreciate them more than she could and that made her happy.

Appreciate. Fun. Like. Enjoy. The positive words kept coming through at every session. Especially happy.

'Where do you see these positions?' Nicole had asked.

The girl had shrugged as if there was only one place to see anything like that. 'In my mind,' she said.

'Do you see them on TV?'

Delia had shaken her head. No, there wasn't much tying up on television and when there was, it wasn't proper tying up she said.

'Proper tying up?' asked Nicole, intrigued.

'They could get out of it easily,' said the girl in a dismissive tone. 'When you are tied you shouldn't be able to move.'

'Has anyone ever tied you up, Delia?'

The girl had shaken her head sadly. 'My friend Elaine tried it, when we were younger. But she wasn't good at it and then they moved away.'

'So it was Elaine who got you interested in this?' Nicole had seen a glimmer of light, only to have it extinguished.

'Oh no, she didn't understand it. I had to really ask her, beg her to do it,' explained the child with a sigh. 'She was no good at it. I could escape if I tried. I had to be very still so I didn't make the ropes fall.'

'Did you tie her up?'

Delia stared in surprise at the idea. 'No. She didn't want it. People should only be tied up who want to be tied up,' said the child.

Nicole watched the child drawing now. The doctor had asked the child to draw several times each session they had and didn't expect anything different, other than the position of the bound child or what she was wearing. This one was no different: a girl, Delia unmistakably, sitting in the front seat of a car, all trussed up. Seat belt on, for safety, as the ten year old would explain soberly later.

But this picture was different to the others. There was an adult in the picture. A woman next to the bound child, driving.

With a small gasp Nicole recognized the woman behind the wheel. A woman with red hair hair, wire-frame glasses. It was the doctor herself.

'Delia,' said Nicole quietly. 'Tell me about this picture. Who is the woman driving?' Her heart was beating faster and she struggled to keep her voice at the usual level.

'You, of course,' said Delia with a grin. 'You are driving me to my home, after I have been here.'

Nicole felt uneasy. She hadn't thought of the child being bound in her presence before and the revelation sent a series of little tremors through her. 'You don't look unhappy in the picture,' said the psychologist.

'I'm not,' smiled Delia. 'I'm safe and secure.'

'How else do you see me? Will you draw a picture of how you see your visit here?'

Delia considered for a moment. 'You and me, in this room?' she asked.

'Yes. You and me, and anyone else you think should be here.'

The child looked mystified. 'I don't think anyone else should be here. This is your office and this is my time with you. That's what Aunt Selma said. I have to do what you tell me or you can't help me.'

Nicole was impressed: that was a mature observation. 'So,' she pressed, 'draw me and you in here.'

Delia grinned, and started drawing on a clean sheet of paper.

Nicole felt a wave of anxiety as she saw the figures take shape: the inevitable bound little girl, this time sat at a chair just like the one she was sat on now. But behind her, lying on the couch Nicole had for her patients, was a woman, heavily bound.

'That's you,' said the girl, when it was clear it was Nicole anyway. Same glasses, same hairstyle. Same prim, neat dress she was wearing.

Nicole felt strange, seeing herself depicted in this way. 'Who tied me up?' she asked.

Delia looked puzzled. 'I don't know. Someone who likes to help you.'

'Delia, I'm not sure I want help like that.' Nicole found it difficult not to swallow hard. 'I don't need to be tied up.'

'In my mind I saw you, tied up there.' The girl indicated the couch. 'You were happy,' she added.

'I see.' Nicole looked at the drawing. The woman bound on the couch - herself - looked happy, especially as she wasn't gagged. Nicole said that to Delia. 'You didn't gag me.'

The girl smiled and shook her head. 'I can't gag you. I'm not the one who tied you up.'

'Okay. Then who did?'

Delia shrugged, so the doctor tried a different approach. 'Delia, I'd like you to draw the person tying me up. You too, if it would help.' She pushed a clean piece of paper towards the child, who furrowed her brow.

'I can't see them,' the girl said after staring at the paper for a few moments. 'If I can't see them in my head, I can't draw them.'

'Okay. So let's go back to the other drawing, me driving you home. Was it me who tied you up?'

Delia shook her head slowly. 'No. it was the woman who tied you up, on the couch thing. She untied you later and let you drive me home.'

'So it was a woman who was doing the tying up?' Nicole tried to keep her voice level, almost disinterested. But she found it hard: the child could see something in her mind. Perhaps it was prophetic... Nicole dismissed the idea at once. She knew there was no such thing as prediction. Educated guesses, evidence and supposition, informed opinion perhaps, but no predicting the future.

Yet Delia was operating on a different level. Nicole concentrated on the task. 'In your picture, when I drove you home, what would I find at home when I took you in?'

Delia shrugged. 'I dunno. I'd have to draw it.'

'Go on then,' said Nicole, intrigued, watching as the ten year old girl began drawing. It was clear that on the paper a room was taking shape, a room with two sofas, a TV. The TV was on, and on the screen was someone bound and gagged. At this point, Delia looked up. It was the first time she'd ever interrupted herself drawing. 'There's a program on the TV,' she said. 'Not a program... a video. Aunt Selma is watching a video of someone tied up.' The girl put her head down and continued drawing. At the door in the picture was the bound Delia, Nicole behind her, guiding the bound and gagged child into the house. On one of the sofas a woman was bound in a hogtie, ball gagged and facing the TV, watching the video. It was obvious it was Aunt Selma. The face was remarkably accurate, above the gag straps.

'There,' said Delia as she finished. 'Aunt is all tied up.'

The doctor hesitated to ask, but did so anyway. 'By who?'

Delia as usual didn't know. 'They aren't in the room,' was all she would say.

'Do you think your Aunt would be happy tied up?'

Delia nodded. 'She wouldn't admit it. She says what I draw, what I see, what I think about it is wrong, but I think she likes it.'

'Why?'

A slight exasperation was in the girl's voice, as if surely others could see what she did. 'I dunno. She just has that look.'

'Look?'

The blonde girl considered for a moment or two, lips pursed. Possibly annoyed she had to explain the obvious. 'When people want to be tied up, they have something about them. They look a certain way. Then there are people who tie up. They look kinda different.'

'And do I look like someone who could tie you up?'

Delia laughed. 'Oh no. You're... you're someone who gets tied up. Like me.'

Nicole felt herself flush. It was ridiculous. She 'd never been tied up in her life - her mother would never have allowed it.

There was a knock at the door and Nicole's receptionist, Mandy, stepped into the room. She was slightly older than the doctor - about thirty two - but still good looking with long brown hair. She smiled at the little girl and then at the doctor. 'I'm sorry to interrupt, doctor, but your next appointment will be delayed by ten minutes. The people have got caught up in traffic.' She smiled again and withdrew as the psychologist thanked her.

Delia stared Mandy, then at Nicole and suddenly, without thinking, snatched the pencil and began drawing on the two sheets of paper in front of her. She scribbled furiously, faster than the doctor had ever seen before. The shape of a woman appeared in the office picture, a woman with long brown hair. It was clearly Mandy, the receptionist. In the picture she had a coil of rope in her hand and was smiling at the doctor.

Nicole's heart missed a beat. Surely this was fantasy, she thought. Mandy was a reliable woman, married with two daughters of her own. A ten year old daughter called Susie and a seven year old called Jayne. Surely Delia was just adding the image of a woman to please the doctor, to finish the picture?

Nicole opened her mouth to object to the drawing but she knew that was wrong. Whatever was driving the girl doing the drawing had to come out. Like an exorcism, maybe. Mandy was just a figure who fitted in, someone convenient.

But something about it troubled Nicole. Delia didn't fantasize in that way. She saw herself bound and gagged, but she didn't invent anyone else. Even the picture of little girl bound on the horse had a certain look of familiarity which the doctor couldn't quite place. She watched, heart pounding, as the ten year old girl drew the figure of Mandy in her own house, complete with long brown hair, standing over the hogtied Aunt, smiling at the bound Delia and the doctor entering the house.

'Delia...' began the doctor gently, hoping this would be the end of the drawing, the projection of fantasy, but the girl seemed obsessed. She was drawing again, showing Mandy, this time in a room that looked like a kitchen. There was a table laid for a meal and Mandy was at the cooker. Behind her a girl was sat at the table, bound to a chair while another girl was carrying plates to the table - a girl dressed in just vest and pants and wearing chains at her wrists and ankles.

Nicole's head swam. The kids in the picture looked just like Mandy's two and the one in chains looked like the little girl sitting on the horse, bound and gagged. She stared, realizing that Delia was talking. 'That woman,' she was saying. 'Your friend...'

'Receptionist,' corrected Nicole.

'Yeah, her... she's the one who ties people up. She likes tying people up. She has two little girls. And they're happy.' She drew hastily on the kitchen picture, adding a large piece of sticking plaster over the mouth of the girl carrying the plates. 'Two plates,' said the girl. 'The girl serving is gagged so she can't eat today.'

'A punishment?' ventured Nicole.

'No. More... um,' the small girl cast round for the words. 'More an agreement. One day a week, the girls agree to be gagged all day. They take turns, working and being gagged. If she doesn't, she's spanked.'

Nicole felt this was a fantasy too far. 'Delia,' she said coldly, breaking a primary rule about imposing moral judgments. 'What you are doing is wrong. People aren't denied food and spanked and -'

'No,' insisted the child. 'The gag means they aren't spanked. Don't you see? It's their way of making everyone happy.'

Nicole didn't see. This was complex whirl of fantasies, more deeply structured than she had imagined possible. There would be text books on this, papers published some place and she should consult them. It could be some syndrome or other. Fleetingly, the doctor even thought if it wasn't identified yet her own observations might be classed one day as 'Harman's Syndrome.'

That's ego, she scolded herself and returned to the here and now. Her immediate task was to discover more. 'Tell me, how do you know about Mandy and her family?'

Delia looked puzzled. 'The way I always see things. In my head.' She looked back at the picture she'd completed. 'But these girls and their mom think that -'

'You can't read their minds,' Nicole suddenly snapped, and then regretted it. She apologized.

The little girl had shrunk back. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I can only draw what I see - and what I think they think.'

'Okay,' said the doctor, regaining her composure, not wanting to alarm the child. 'Supposing you're right, Delia. You think my receptionist likes tying up her mother and her two girls?' When the girl nodded the psychologist continued: 'So you think she would tie me up, and you and Aunt Selma. She would be very busy, right?'

The girl gave a little nod and said quietly: 'She likes tying people up. It's like... like fun for her.'

'What sort of fun?'

'I dunno... women have fun when they...' She indicated her skirt, pointing to her lap. 'I guess they get this special glow, this feeling in their, um, cunny.'

The word, the idea, struck Nicole like a brick. 'Cunny?' she said faintly, wondering how this child knew about female stimulation and their libido. Masturbation - the thing so many women did, day in, day out. Surely she was too young to know about that, wasn't she?

The woman checked herself: she'd been almost seven, when she discovered her own sex center. Younger than Delia. Nicole asked: 'You mean down... uh, between their legs. In their private place?'

The girl agreed. 'Aunt Selma says I'm allowed to call it my cunny, but that's all.'

'Okay.' The word wasn't the issue and the doctor plowed on. 'How come then you didn't draw this lady before? You saw her when you came for appointments before, right? But you never mentioned this to me.'

Delia sighed, looking puzzled. 'When I came here at first, she wasn't there. It was another woman.'

The truth hit Nicole hard: Mandy had indeed been off on vacation, and then she was ill. The receptionist was a temporary, an older woman covering for Mandy. 'But Mandy was back last week. When you came...' she stopped herself. Mandy had been out when Delia had arrived. Even today, the receptionist hadn't been at her desk when Delia came in. Incredibly, it had been the first time the girl had seen a receptionist other than the hired temporary help. 'Are you sure about Mandy?' asked the doctor, gathering her thoughts. 'It's a serious charge that she hurts her children and makes them - '

'No! She doesn't hurt anyone. You, me, her children, Aunt Selma... they all want her to do it.' Delia looked anxious. 'I don't want anyone to be hurt. Only happy.'

Nicole blinked. Happiness was being tied up like Selma in a hogtie? Bound to a chair? Made to walk in chains? It seemed incredible to contemplate but the doctor knew there were many shades of enjoyment, of pleasures lighter and darker out in the world. The singular thing about this was the ten-year old girl did not regard it is unusual or odd that here were five people all bound and all accepting it. Three children and two mature women, all controlled by Mandy. It seemed incredible but there again, incredible things happened all the time.

There was another knock at the door. It was Mandy again, apologizing for the interruption. 'Doctor, your next appointment is here,' she said quietly and disappeared again.

A strange, indistinct feeling was creeping through Nicole. She wasn't quite scared, but she wasn't quite sure what it was. She snapped herself out of examining the sensations running deep in her, things that stirred the depths that had settled long ago. 'Delia, we have to finish now.'

The little girl hopped off her chair without concern. 'Okay,' she said.

'Do you know what's happened today?' Nicole asked without standing, looking at the blonde child.

'Sure. I drew my pictures. We talked some.'

For some reason, the doctor said. 'Yes... and I think we found your tier-upper.' She wondered. for an instant, if there was such a word. 'The-person-who-ties-you-up' would have been equally bad.

'Would the lady tie me up now?' asked Delia, eyes wide.

'No. It isn't the right time. I have to see some other people right now.' She paused. 'You can come back tomorrow afternoon. I haven't got any appointments then and perhaps we can... we can explore all this a bit more.'

The little girl grinned. 'Cool,' she said, and skipped out of the room.

Cool indeed, thought Nicole, gathering up all the drawings and putting them into the file. She glanced at the one of her bound on the couch and Mandy with the ropes, almost over her. She shivered. Maybe Delia was fantasizing. Or maybe she could see what was going to happen.

The shiver in the doctor melted into something strange and warm - and that surprised her. She had almost forgotten what it was like.

---

It wasn't easy for the doctor, talking to Mandy about the woman's family. Not because she wasn't approachable - the receptionist was a very friendly person - but because Nicole knew she was asking specific questions, trying to fathom whether Delia's intuition was right.

Later that day, when the last of the doctor's appointment had gone, Nicole had slowly extracted information about the receptionist's family. Her husband had left her four years ago but Nicole knew that anyway. Mandy's mother had helped to look after the home but it had still been tough for Mandy. Still was in some ways, but the receptionist was positive. It helped, she said, make for a happy home if everyone worked together.

Mandy's two daughters were happy too, even without their father around. They did lots of outdoor things: walking the dog, riding horses. The news that they did those things sent a chill through Nicole: Delia's drawings were looking even more accurate. The doctor took a special interest in the pictures of the two little girls on Mandy's desk - ten-year old Susie and seven-year old Jayne.

They were everyday pictures of family, smiling children photographed in their back yard, mom's arms on their small shoulders. Yet, oddly, both of the children appeared to have their hands behind them. Nicole gulped a little at this: perhaps their hands were bound. Or maybe it was coincidence. Maybe Delia had seen the photos and thought hands behind back - or hidden - meant they were bound.

There was a family picture too, showing all four of the them smiling at the camera. Grandma, hands in lap, was at the front surrounded by the two girls and their mother. A tingle went through Nicole as she realized the kids' hands were hidden behind them. The tingle turned to a deep, strange buzz as she thought she could see something round the girls' ankles, as if they were tied together.

But that couldn't be possible, could it? Surely the older lady - Mandy's own mom - would have said something, objecting to her granddaughters' hands being tied behind them. The old lady, even if she had failing eyesight, couldn't have missed noticing the two girls standing with their ankles bound, could she?

Mandy was watching the doctor staring at the photo. 'My family interest you, doctor?' she said quietly.

'Oh... no. It's just that... I haven't got a family, as you know,' blushed Nicole. 'I guess I just get kind of broody every so often, looking at other people's family pictures. Makes me think of what I missed out on when I turned down Jed.'

'Jed?'

'Guy at university, wanted to marry me. Nice kid, but not my sort. I wanted a career. So, here I am.'

The receptionist nodded, watching her employer put down the photo. 'Doctor, can I ask you a question?'

'Sure.' Nicole tried to sound relaxed but wasn't sure she was.

'That little girl you saw earlier, Delia, right? She said something strange to me on the way out.'

'Really?' Nicole's heart was pounding. She just hoped Mandy wouldn't hear it.

'Yeah. She said: I like being tied up. Is that why she's here to see you?'

'Mandy, you know I can't discuss cases with you...' Nicole faltered. 'Delia has... she's got some odd views and...'

'She likes being tied up. I can tell,' said Mandy, flatly.

Oh shit, thought Nicole. Is there some kind of secret signal they all give off to each other? She hesitated. She could deny it of course. She could simply say it was confidential and leave it at that. She could say that Delia fantasizes about all sorts of things and didn't now what she was saying. She could say that the girl only thou-

'She knows, doesn't she?' said Mandy firmly, dissolving any plan Nicole may have been formulating.

'Knows what?'

'Oh come on, doctor. Delia has the ability to see bondage in people, however she does that. So I guess she knows about my family.'

'Y-your family?'

'Sure. We play bondage games in our house. She knows.'

Nicole stared at the receptionist. Her heart had been pounding hard and now it seemed frozen. This was one of those moment's of truth that define life. Nicole opened her mouth to say, 'Nonsense,' or 'What do you mean?' or even 'She doesn't know about anyone.' But what came out was: 'Yes.'

Mandy smiled gently. 'How do you feel about it all?'

'All what?' asked Nicole weakly.

'Being tied up. Bondage. Delia. My family,' she indicated the family photos on the desk.

The doctor shrugged, her heart thundering again. 'I don't know.' She swallowed and said, 'I don't know your family.'

'Delia's coming back tomorrow, isn't she? She wants to be tied up, right?'

Nicole felt helpless, swept along by a tidal wave of strange desires and compulsions. 'Yes,' she said, not knowing where to look. 'But I don't know if it's right.'

'Doctor, I'm not an expert like you. But don't be too quick to judge.'

'I try not to judge -' began the doctor, but stopped. She realized she had started to judge the child, her receptionist. Even everyone who liked bondage.

'Come and see for yourself,' invited Mandy. 'I think you should visit. Meet my family, don't you think? Then you can see how happy they are. It will help you make your mind up.'

Nicole felt faint and excited, more excited than she'd ever felt before, but she hesitated. 'I don't know if it's a good idea.'

'It's just an idea. To help you.'

Nicole felt she could with some help. 'Perhaps... well, okay. But just a brief visit. That would be good.'

'So shall we say tonight?' Mandy wasn't asking a question. 'You can see for yourself.'

The psychologist gave way to her feelings and nodded, feeling weak.

---

Mandy's home was neat, well-kept. There may not have been a man around but the receptionist - perhaps with her mother's help - had kept the lawn neat, the drive clear, the house freshly painted. Nicole drew up in her car and stared at the house. It was like a thousand other houses in the suburbs round here: nothing special other than it was a home. There was no sign that behind the drapes, behind the locked doors, two children were tied up. Then she remembered. Tied up too in the backyard, out in the country. Bondage wasn't only an indoor event here.

A figure came to the door and waved to Nicole as she got out of her car. It was Mandy of course, but what surprised Nicole was that there was a child next to her, waving too. One of the woman's daughters, clearly. It looked like the eldest, Susie. Free - no ropes or chains and certainly no gag, judging by the wide smile the child was giving her. Nicole felt both relieved and disappointed: maybe all this wasn't what she had thought.

Perhaps she had just built it all up somehow in her own mind, Nicole told herself. After all, wasn't that what they taught at college? If you get drawn in personally you stop being objective, you look for reasons to reinforce what you think should be. You don't see what is or what was.

And yet... the doctor was disappointed in a way she didn't expect.

'Hi,' said Mandy as she approached. 'This is Susie,' she indicated her daughter, who was still smiling a welcome.

'Hi,' said the doctor. 'Hello, Susie. How are you?'

The girl grinned. 'I'm fine. But I'm not tied up right now.'

'Excuse me?' This wasn't what Nicole had expected, so soon. The idea that this might be some misunderstanding, a projection of the psychologist's inner self, suddenly collapsed.

'Mommy says you're visiting because you want to see us all tied up.' The child didn't seem distressed. If anything, she seemed pleased.

'Well... we talked about things,' mumbled the woman as she stood on the porch. She gave a half glance at the neighbor's house, to see if people were peering out from behind the drapes, tutting about how evil this family was, asking what kind of weirdo's come here?

Nothing moved behind the drapes, no faces stared out.

'It's okay,' said Mandy. 'The family know why you're here. My mom and Jayne are in the back, waiting.' She smiled. 'But they couldn't come to the door right now.'

'Your mom?' A chasm yawned in front of Nicole. She had thought the mother was away, an innocent in all this. But here, now - and expecting this?

'Sure,' laughed Susie. 'We do everything with Grandma!'

Nicole nodded and gulped. She allowed the child to take her hand, lead her in. Head spinning, the doctor stepped into the house, wondering what she'd find. She half expected to find some den of torture, of figures bound grotesquely, devices of punishment littering the rooms. But it was a family home, every bit as neat as the outside. There was no sign of anything untoward: no coiled ropes in the corners, no manacles on the walls, no iron bars at the windows. No pictures on the walls of females bound and gagged, no bondage magazines lying around.

The three of them walked through to the living room, Susie leading the visitor, Mandy following up.

It was an ordinary, comfortable living room. Pictures of calm lakes and serene mountains on the walls, soft cushions on the sofas.

Two sofas, just like Delia's drawing! That alone would have made Nicole faint, but it was what was on one of the sofas that made her legs almost buckle.

On the sofa lying quite still, was the youngest child Jayne, in a pink floral dress. She was smiling sweetly from where she lay on her front, bound from head from toe, hands bound high up between her small shoulders. Nicole didn't faint, but she gasped at the sight of the little girl, how helpless she was, how tightly bound. It was an astonishing sight and she felt a new wave of something approaching fear and anxiety, excitement and pleasure course through her.

'Hi, Doctor Harman' said Jayne looking up from where she lay, seemingly untroubled by her appearance and with a smile as big as her eldest sister's.

'See, Jayne's all tied up. I did it earlier. Mommy said I could.' Susie pointed at her sister as if she was proud of what she had done. Perhaps she had every cause to be: there wasn't a single slack rope on the seen year old.

'Wow,' breathed Nicole, staring at the bondage on the immobilized child.

Susie let go the woman's hand and skipped over to the bound girl and knelt down beside the sofa, next to Jayne. 'See, ropes at her wrists are tied to this sort of harness,' the eldest daughter indicated the bra-like harness over the seven-year old's shoulders and then she ran her fingers along the rope from Jayne's tightly bound hands to the child's knees, 'and I cinched the rope real tight on her legs - and here on her ankles. I like to do it tight.'

'She hurt me,' complained the youngest girl. 'Susie ties my knees too tight.'

'No, she doesn't,' chided Mandy, now standing at Nicole's side.

'That's right,' pouted Susie, pulling a face at her helpless sister.

'Jayne!' frowned the girls' mother. 'That's enough, both of you.'

'Is... is she hurting?' asked Nicole when she found her voice.

'Oh no, not really,' smiled Mandy. 'But she'll have her revenge I expect. For a seven year old she knows how to get back at Susie when she does the tying up.'

'I'm gonna be tied up soon,' Susie offered, not moving from the side of Jayne. 'But mom said she'll do it.'

'But what comes first?' Mandy offered.

'Uh, first, mom says now Jayne's said hello I can gag her.' With a flourish the girl reached over the bound young girl and held up a gag. A strip of red cloth with a large knot in the middle. Jayne craned her head round to see the gag and pulled a 'I-don't-like-that-one' face.

'That knot,' explained Mandy to Nicole, 'goes in Jayne's mouth. It's better than a ball gag at her age because she can bite down on it and exercise her jaw. Otherwise she finds her jaw gets too stiff.'

A score of questions tumbled through Nicole's mind: twenty one when without waiting the ten year old wedged the knot into Jayne's mouth, fastening it off behind the bound child's head. The question was: how long is she expected to wear that in her small mouth?

Mandy settled herself on the sofa next to her bound daughter's head. Susie went and stood by the side of the sofa, putting her arms behind her back in what might be regarded as a subservient position. Nicole watched as Mandy picked up a length of rope from by the side of sofa and began tying Susie's arms behind her.

'You're curious, doctor,' said Mandy, looping rope round her daughter's little chest and upper arms, 'How we got into this.'

'Sure,' said Nicole. 'May I sit down while...' The woman didn't know what to say.

'While I tie my eldest daughter up?' Mandy smiled. 'Please make yourself at home. I'll soon be done with Susie here.'

'You will do my legs, won't you?' The child looked anxiously at her mother. 'I did a good job on Jayne and you said that -'

'Hush, honey,' said Mandy, a firm note in her voice. 'I decide how much bondage today, right?'

'Yes mommy.'

'Decide what?' asked Nicole.

Mandy sighed as she cinched her daughter's elbows behind her. 'Well, Susie here might have done a good job on her sister, tying her so neatly, but she was naughty last night.'

The child blushed.

'We have rules here, doctor. Rules for the children, so they are safe and happy. Orders are obeyed - that's the most important rule. The reward is - and you'll find this strange - that disobeying and breaking rules means no tying up. Leastways, not fully. You see, tying up is a pleasure, not a punishment for the kids. The punishment for being naughty or disobeying is...?' Mandy turned her child towards her and looked at the girl inquiringly.

'Uh, punishment is not being tied up.' Susie answered, looking crestfallen.

'So... what did Susie do, to be, um, not tied up ?' Nicole felt strange asking questions like this, watching this.

'I-I didn't tidy up my chains,' said Susie, standing in front of her mother with arms and wrists roped tightly behind her back.

'And what else?' asked Mandy.

The child blushed. 'Um, and I didn't clean the gags.'

Nicole stared at the mother and child.

'Oh doctor,' laughed Mandy, 'Your face is a picture. The fact is last night Susie here asked to wear her chains while she did her chores round the house. Which is fine. Trouble was she not only forgot to tidy them away at bed time but then I discovered she hadn't cleaned off the ball gags the kids use.' The receptionist looked at the doctor with a smile. 'I'm sure you would agree hygiene is important. I don't like the girls wearing ball gags that aren't clean.'

'Uh, of course,' nodded Nicole, slightly astonished she was agreeing. Then she had a question: 'So, you're tying Susie but if she's done something wrong then why?'

'This bondage,' at this Mandy patted her daughter's tied arms, 'Is a reward because she did something good this morning without being asked. She put the trash out and washed all the breakfast things.'

'And I put the bird food out, so don't I get a gag at least?' Susie looked hopefully at her mother.

'Oh, okay,' grinned Mandy. 'Guess you have been good.' The woman picked up a strip of cloth identical to Jayne's and held it up towards her daughter's face. Susie, Nicole noted, looked pleased.

Suddenly Mandy stopped and looked at the doctor. 'Oh, how rude of me! We have a guest, so I think the lady should do it, don't you Susie?'

'Oh yes! Would you gag me please, Doctor Harman?'

'What?' Nicole's jaw dropped. 'I-I couldn't... It's...'

'It's okay,' said Mandy, offering the gag towards where the doctor was sitting. 'I trust you. Susie trusts you. All you have to do is tie it tight, so she can't speak. Then you can ask me whatever questions you like, about me, the kids, how it started, anything. And the kids won't interrupt as they're gagged, right?'

Nicole gulped, sweat on her forehead. Her heart was beating hard. She thought: Are they serious? Do they know what they were asking? Mandy wasn't fooling around, the doctor could tell, and the girl wasn't in distress, but why involve me? 'I don't know,' said Nicole.

'Please gag me,' begged the child. 'I promise I'll be good if you do.'

'Susie, I don- ' The doctor stopped herself. She wasn't sure about anything all of a sudden.

The woman and her child waited for the doctor to make her mind up.

'Okay,' said Nicole after a full minute, getting to her feet. Her legs felt shaky, her sex was alive with a fire she'd never known. The red-haired woman took the gag, ran it through her fingers to feel it's softness and texture, swallowed hard and tied it in the little girl's wide open mouth.

'Good,' smiled Mandy, watching her boss knot the gag behind Susie's head. 'Now she's quiet, doctor, we can talk.'

---

They talked for an hour with Mandy answering any and every question the doctor could think of - save one. At the end of it, Nicole understood what had made them do it, how the kids had wanted it, how they all accepted it was their family life.

There had been no threats, no violence, no coercion. Just a family into bondage. Two girls and a loving mom. Two girls who were quite still now in their bonds, silent in their gags. Not struggling, not complaining. Probably, Nicole would realize later, about as well behaved as children can be.

But there was one question Nicole wanted to ask, and was scared to. She'd never hesitated like this before and, although it was her job to ask difficult questions, this one she shied away from.

Mandy looked at the doctor as if she sensed the woman was holding back. 'It isn't quite everything, is it?'

'Excuse me?' Nicole looked startled as if someone had penetrated her mind.

'You still want to know something.'

The doctor gave a small shrug, more as if she was troubled than couldn't-care-less.

'Okay, the question is,' said Mandy, taking over, 'How do I feel about tying up Delia? Or maybe, because of professional ethics, should I be allowed to tie up one of your patients?'

'I can tie her up myself if - ' Nicole snapped and then halted. She blushed brightly, embarrassed at blurting out her feelings without thinking. Doctors such as her didn't do that.

'Oh, so you think Delia wants to be tied up.' Mandy was smiling.

Nicole sighed. This wasn't meant to be about the ten year old girl, but it would be hard to stop being about her now. And about Nicole herself. 'No, well maybe. I have to be sure it isn't just some projection, some fantasy-skill. Drawing like that, at her talent level, is sometimes driven by a deep-seated, um, connection with what psychologists call the 'shadow level,' which is to say that -'

'It's okay, doctor,' grinned Mandy. 'I don't need a technical explanation. I simply take it she does what she does. But I do think you have to ask why you like it so much.'

'It's my job,' said the doctor, defensively. Then she relaxed. 'Oh, I guess it's because when I was a child, I wanted to be tied up.'

'Good,' said Mandy. 'So you're like us.'

'Us?'

'People who want to be tied up. It happens. I meet them, and now you have.' The mother shrugged as if it was an everyday phenomenon. 'And it changes you. Or, if you'll forgive me being a psychologist, it opens you up.'

There was a silence that lasted four or five minutes. Nicole sat back, slumped in the chair, her face reflecting a string of thoughts, memories being revealed, threads of feelings and sensations being unravelled from a tight ball. She wasn't looking at the bound and gagged children anymore, she was staring into the distance. Eyes and mind beyond this room.

Eventually Nicole shook her head at what was her own naivety, that she might - despite all her studying and training - be just like everyone else in some way or other. More importantly, she might be like Mandy and Delia and these two children here.

'So, tell me,' said Mandy gently, breaking the heavy silence. 'Where did it go wrong for you, when you were small?'

Nicole looked at her receptionist, tears suddenly glistening in her eyes. 'I guess I, uh, just wanted to be loved. Tied up and shown affection,' she said in a whisper. 'Delia is like me - oh I couldn't draw, but I wrote. Pages of it: stories of girls tied up by their mother, their aunts. Even their grandmother.'

'And?'

'And my mom found them and grounded me for weeks.' Nicole brushed a tear off her cheek. 'She burnt the pages I wrote, told me if I ever did anything so perverted again I would go straight to hell.'

Mandy nodded. 'And yet hell was not being who you wanted to be, living in an unloving world. Well, it's over now.'

'What?'

'You can be yourself. Like with Delia and me and the girls. You don't have to pretend.'

'But I have to pretend!' Nicole sat up, eyes wet from tears but hidden by her furrowed brow. 'I have a duty, professional codes and ethics. I can't make Delia happy, I can't tie her up - even if I wanted to.'

'But I can,' said Mandy. 'I can help her.'

'At the office?' Nicole was aghast.

'Maybe, or here. She can be friends with my two.' Mandy indicated her tied up children. 'Would look good, all three of them tied together. You can come and oversee it, make sure they're safe.' The woman looked at her children. 'Say, kids, would you like a new friend to come and be tied like you?'

Both Susie and Jayne nodded eagerly, even trying to say yes into their gags.

'Okay,' said Mandy, holding her hand up for silence. 'If the doctor agrees and Delia is happy and,' she paused, 'you keep your rooms tidy, then we will see.'

Disappointment flickered over the two girls' faces.

'Listen kids, Delia might not want it,' said Nicole, joining in the explanation. 'We have to be careful with her, with her guardian too.'

Mandy nodded. 'I think they understand that. But what they have, the happiness they have, guess that makes them think it will be alright.'

Nicole nodded. Maybe, just maybe, it would be alright.

---

Delia was on time, as she always was. She sat at her side of the doctor's desk, looking for her paper and pencils. The desk however was bare. The girl looked up at Doctor Harman, but didn't complain or seem disappointed. She was, as Nicole had noted before, endlessly patient. Accepting. Maybe that was how it was with children who wanted to be tied up, reflected Nicole.

The doctor opened a file on her desk and lifted out some sheets. 'Delia, today I don't want you to draw. I just want you to look at some other pictures I have. They're, um, not drawings. They're photographs. I want you to tell me what you think of them. If you don't like them, you must tell me and we'll stop, understood?'

Delia nodded.

Nicole placed the first one in front of the girl, the right way up for the child to see. A photo of a girl on a bench in a backyard, smiling at the camera, her little arms tied behind her, ropes at her knees and ankles. Her short red-and-white polka dot dress was hitched up to her waist, her blue panties and ropes across her lap visible. Ropes that appeared to hold the girl to the bench.

'Good,' said Delia, with no surprise or shock. Not even, Nicole noted, with a hint of jealousy. Delia studied the picture and then said: 'It's the girl, isn't it, one of those from your, um, receptionist's desk. I don't know which one it is but she's older in the picture out there. She's younger here.'

Nicole felt something clutch her stomach. Fear? Anxiety? Excitement? She cleared her throat. 'Well, yes it is. She's playing a game. Her name's Susie. The photo was taken when she was about six.'

'Where's the other one, her friend?'

'You mean sister. Jayne, that's her name, was a baby then. Here she is, in a picture taken when she was five.' Nicole pushed a second picture towards her patient. The image was clearer - a better camera perhaps. It was on a beach. Susie, in a swim costume, was sat next to her younger sister, who was lying on a towel on the sand. Jayne was lying on her front, arms tied to her side, legs tied together but crossed at her ankles. She had a costume on like her older sister. Susie was leaning slightly over the bound girl, arm out, flat of her hand poised above the tied girl's rear, as if she was going to spank her butt. Or had - Jayne's face was screwed up a little and she was biting on the simple cleave gag she wore.

'Has this girl been bad?' asked Delia.

'How do you mean?'

'Um, she's bound and gagged and being spanked.' The child paused. 'Or does she like being spanked? Sometimes I think it would be nice to be spanked while tied up.'

'Are you bad?' Nicole's heart was pounding again.

'Uh, sometimes. Not very bad, but...' she trailed off.

'Okay, here's another picture,' said Nicole, placing a third in front of the child. 'Taken at Susie's tenth birthday party, in October.'

The picture showed both girls in bondage. Susie was sat on a chair, ropes criss-crossing her body, pinning her to the seat and back. Despite the amount of rope and the obvious tightness, she was grinning at the camera. On one side of her was a table, with a birthday cake with ten candles. On the other side was her younger sister, standing with her hands tied behind her back, a large tape gag hiding most of her face.

Nicole placed a second picture over the first: in this Susie was craning towards the cake, blowing out the candles.

The third picture showed the candles were out. Mandy, standing behind her daughter, was fixing a ball gag in Susie's mouth, strapping it in. Jayne, still tied and gagged, was watching closely.

'She had a real happy birthday,' said Delia, looking at the last picture. 'Her mom must really love her.'

'She does,' said Nicole, feeling a small blush on her own face. 'Now, Delia, I want you to look at this last picture from the birthday. See?'

The picture showed the table cleared, Jayne absent. The light looked different in the room, later in the day. Susie though was still sat in the chair, her ball-gag filling her mouth, ropes the same as before. 'I want you to look at the clock on the wall. See the time?' The photo showed it was four o'clock, and Delia said it aloud.

'Now tell me what time the clock says in the first picture.'

Delia shuffled back through the pictures. 'Uh, eleven o'clock.'

'And that means Susie here was tied to her chair for how long?'

Delia did some calculations in her head. She was a bright kid and didn't need to do it on her fingers. 'Um, five hours.'

Nicole watched the child's face closely. She didn't seem phased or upset. She simply nodded, like this was what bondage was. 'Don't you think it was a long time for the little girl to be tied up like that?'

The girl opposite the doctor shrugged.

'You think you could be tied for so long?'

'Hmm, I think so. But was the other girl tied for so long, her sister?'

'I don't know. What do you think?'

'I think she was,' said Delia. 'I mean, when someone ties you they don't want to have to untie you quickly.' Then the child asked: 'Was the gag a birthday present from her mom?'

The question floored Nicole. A ball-gag for a present? 'I don't know,' she replied.

'You could ask her mom, she's outside.' Delia nodded towards the door of the office.

'That won't be necessary,' began Nicole but Delia looked imploringly at her.

'Please, Doctor Harman,' said the ten year old.

With a suppressed sigh Nicole got up. This wasn't going how she planned it. At the door she asked Mandy to come in, adding: 'Uh, Delia has a question for you.' Nicole felt she was handing over her job to someone else but if it was what Delia wanted, then fine.

The girl asked her question about the gift, holding up the picture of Susie ball-gagged.

'Oh sure, honey,' smiled Mandy. 'She outgrew her other one. This new one is bigger. She likes it a lot - wears it most days.' The woman looked at the doctor for permission to carry on. When Nicole nodded, Mandy asked: 'You like my family pictures, honey?'

'Oh yes, they're cool! I love the way you tie them up.'

'Good,' said Mandy. 'Would you like to be tied up like them?'

Nicole opened her mouth to say this was all wrong, that you couldn't just ask a child that, not when you weren't qualified and - She didn't get her objections out when Delia spoke.

'Sure,' said the girl brightly. 'I'd love the doctor to tie me up. But she probably wants you to do it, 'cos you know how.'

'Delia -' began Nicole, feeling weak and dizzy.

'It's okay, doctor, I don't mind,' smiled Mandy. 'She's right, I do know how. But I think you need to be tied up too, like you always wanted to be.'

The doctor gaped at her receptionist. Her spinning head threatened to fly off her shoulders, a mixture of panic and a strange excitement welled up in her. She realized she was clutching the chair back, the one near the door. This was not only what she didn't plan for today, but it had never remotely occurred to her Mandy might want to tie an adult up. More specifically, her.

'Doctor, you remember what you told me last night, that you wanted your mom to tie you up, when you were small?' Mandy was looking intently at the doctor. 'Well I'm not your mom but I'd be happy to help. Both you and Delia here.'

If that hadn't quite shocked Nicole into a near faint, what Mandy said next did.

'I've brought some ropes in, just in case. Enough for you both,' the receptionist said calmly.

Nicole sat down on the chair, unable to think.

'Go on,' Delia was saying, clapping her small hands. 'Both of us!'

'You want to be tied sat there?' Mandy asked the doctor.

Nicole Harman felt a dam burst within her. Years of stagnation and frustration suddenly broke clear, out into the open, sweeping away what little objections she had.

'No, not here,' she heard herself say. 'Do it like Delia drew me. On the couch over there.'

---

Nicole didn't know if Mandy had tied her well or not. She imagined, as her receptionist was a thorough person and had done this before, then this was up in the good sector. At least she now knew exactly how it felt to be bound. The doctor lay on her front, breasts crushed under her with arms tied to her upper body, wrists to ankles. A pretty severe hogtie, Mandy had explained, but not too tight, not too demanding. Not for a first time.

Mandy had said that with a grin which both scared and intrigued Nicole.

On the other side of the room Delia was sat, tied to her chair. The girl looked incredibly happy, radiant almost. Gagged, as she'd wanted, with a scarf in her mouth.

Nicole had been impressed how carefully Mandy had tied the girl, explaining at every stage what she was going to do and why. She asked the child repeatedly if things were too tight or just right. If things weren't exactly okay, Mandy carefully redid the ropes or retied the knots.

Delia, to her credit, was attentive and didn't wriggle - unless Mandy invited her to try the tightness of the ropes.

Nicole was also very pleased Mandy had the sense to cancel the rest of the day's appointments. 'We need to give ourselves time - time to enjoy it all,' said Mandy as she tied the gag in the little girl's mouth. 'Anyway, doctor, you need a break from all those neuroses and problems. Think of this as a half day off. There now, honey, can you speak?' she'd said to the tied girl as the gag was finished.

'Nmmph,' said Delia, happily.

So Nicole lay and looked at how the ten year old girl, in her ropes and gag, was almost glowing where she sat. Nicole felt good too, lying there, tied up as she was. She wished her mom hadn't been so cruel, so unthinking all those years ago. But time passes and opportunities arise, doors open. Or rather, ropes tighten.

The joke made Nicole smile to herself. She sobered up when she thought about how long they'd been tied, how much longer they would be bound. She couldn't see the office clock from here, but Mandy would know. She always kept things running smoothly, efficiently.

But the deal was this: Mandy did the tying so she was in charge. If she thought two hours was long enough, then she'd free them. Or perhaps she thought they could all manage longer. It sure felt like more than two hours already.

Nicole wondered if she should call out, ask Mandy to gag her, but the receptionist was busy working at her own desk, content to leave the two in the doctor's office. Perhaps, thought Nicole, the woman sensed a gag for the doctor was too early, or that she might need to call out if there was a problem, or have her tongue free to -

The thought stopped Nicole right then and there. She wouldn't do that, would she? Mandy wasn't in to other women, was she? A newer, forbidden glow surged into her belly and started to warm the helpless doctor's pussy between her tied legs.

But maybe the gag hadn't gone in the doctor's mouth because Delia hadn't drawn it that way.

And there was Aunt Selma to be tied, if the drawings were right. Mandy had gone through Delia's drawings after tying the child and the woman and probably knew just what was wanted. What had to be done. She was probably making plans right now.

Nicole hoped so, and guessed Delia hoped so too.