Archive-name: Bondage/strict.txt
Archive-author: John Savage
Archive-title: Strictest Bondage, The
an excerpt from "Tales of the BondageMasters' Club"
It was a dark and stormy night and a few of us had taken
refuge at the BondageMasters' Club, the very exclusive
private club you've probably heard of and wished you could
afford to join. All of the dungeons downstairs were booked
up right then which led some of us to gather around the
fireplace in the lounge. We talked about one thing or the
other and pretty soon the conversations got around to a
commonly asked question at the Club: what is the strictest,
heaviest bondage you've ever seen?
Bill Colins sipped his brandy and related a time when he
was in college and had his girlfriend over to his parent's
house. They were gone to Europe and he had run of the place.
Having all the time in the world, he decided to try the most
elaborate bondage he could imagine. He took his girlfriend,
a lovely young lass of nineteen summers and delightful
curves, so we were led to believe, to the garage. This being
a three car garage, there was a wooden post in the middle of
one side, about eight inches on a side and painted so it was
smooth. It was not hard, he said, to persuade Nancy to
remove her clothes; she having already had a couple of
cocktails and being in an amorous mood. When she was
completely naked he backed her against the post and had her
wrists tied behind it before the sweet young thing realized
what was happening. Actually, I suspect she was as
willing a "victim", as all of my girlfriends had been back in
the college days.
Then, he continued, he dragged out a carton of cotton
clothesline packages, twenty-four in all, and proceeded to
open them. The rope began to flow on to the girl who giggled
delightedly and seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary
about being bound naked to a garage post. Rope was soon
wrapped around her legs, binding them to each other, then
around the legs and the post, locking them firmly to the
wood. More rope found its way around her waist, tucking in
her tummy most delightfully. At first he wrapped with the
breasts sticking out between the coils of rope. But as more
and more rope went on, he found that those breasts were about
the only skin showing and that seemed to spoil the effect.
So he wrapped rope around them and the post, squashing them
into pancakes. Or at least that's what it seemed like, he
confided.
It took a long time, especially being careful to wrap
and knot each rope so that it couldn't fall down, but he
eventually had the poor girl wrapped from head to toe. The
rope began at the tops of her feet and continued up without
interruption or skin showing until it reached the bottom of
her chin. A great deal of rope had been wrapped around her
neck so that the shoulders were covered. But that rope had
been only mildly tight so that there was no problem with her
breathing. Carefully wrapped rope filled her mouth as it
passed between her lips and around the post. More rope
wrapped her head and the post from her nose to mid-forehead.
There was enough rope over the eyes that she was effectively
blindfolded. Then he stood back. Only her feet and a little
bit of her face here and there showed, the rest was solid
clothesline. Even from the back no skin showed, the arms
and hands and even fingers had been covered with rope.
Bill then reaffirmed why he was a member of our
exclusive club. He took some thin twine and, while down
on hands and knees, bound her big toes together. Beautiful
touch, that, heh?
Finally the bondage was complete. Bill surveyed his
handiwork and approved. Never in all the existence of woman
and rope had one female be so completely bound and helpless.
He ordered her to struggle, to exert all her strength to free
herself from that cotton prison. The toes wiggled a bit and
maybe there was the slightest tremor in the hair on top of
her head. But that was all. It was beautiful, he assured
us.
We all agreed that such bondage was good and certainly
extremely strict, if somewhat lacking in originality. After
all, anyone can come up with the idea of simply wrapping the
girl with three day's output of a rope factory. Truly
imaginative bondage had to have something a bit more, some
spark of ingenuity.
Mark came forward then with his version. The girl, he
said, was the wife of a friend, her name being Nora. This
friend was very much into leather and bondage and enjoyed
applying both to his wife. The night in question Mark was
invited over to witness the standard procedure used to secure
Nora for her night's rest. They had a special bedroom they
used as a playroom, so the guy could purchase or build all
the equipment he wanted. Mark settled himself in a corner to
watch. Nora began by shedding every stitch of clothing.
Having never seen Nora in the buff before, Mark said that he
was quite delighted to find that the normally drab and
shapeless clothing worn by that slender twenty-five year old
female hid a very shapely body with proud, perky breasts.
Immediately her hands were bound behind her back with the
palms facing each other. Then the elbows were bound together
with rope both above and below them.
Nora sat on the edge of a leather covered and padded
table while her legs were bound at the ankles, and above and
below the knees. Then those legs were inserted into a leather
sheath that came all the way up to her waist. The sheath was
like a single glove used for bondage of a girl's arms but
designed to fit the legs. There were laces up the front and
her husband worked them upwards until they were tight all the
way from her ankles to her tummy. Wide leather straps were
added around her legs at the knees and the usual above and
below the knees.
Nora then stood up as her arms were fitted into a
leather single glove and it was laced up. There were two
straps that passed over her shoulders to secure the glove on
and prevent it from slipping down. Then came a sort of
straightjacket, made of black leather and having no arm holes
whatsoever. The leather jacket went on and laced up. A wide
strap sown into it at the tummy had a roller buckle and was
pulled down very tight. Another wide leather strap at the
top was buckled around her neck. Two other wide straps were
attached and buckled around her torso above and below the
breasts.
Nora smiled at Mark who could guess what was coming
next. With most of her covered by leather restrictions, only
her head was bare. First came a ball gag, not too large a
one, just enough too fill her mouth. That strapped behind
her head. Then a padded blindfold over her eyes. The
discipline hood was also black leather and also laced on
after being molded onto her face. There was a wide leather
strap around the bottom which buckled around the neck, right
over the neckpiece of the straightjacket. The only bit of
skin now showing was Nora's nose, the last, sad piece of a
once proud girl.
But, of course, you knew the table would come into this,
Mark assured us. We nodded. Nora was picked up and laid
down on the table, tummy side down and stretched out. More
leather straps appeared and went around the narrow table and
the already helpless girl, securing her to the table. Her
ankles were pushed down until the toes pointed. Straps held
her legs, hips and torso. If those straps had been her only
bondage, Mark doubted she would have escaped. A final strap
over her neck pulled her head down to the padding and held it
there. The face was turned towards Mark and he could see her
nose flare as she breathed.
It was a wonderful piece of bondage, Mark stated. The
captive girl could not move a muscle. She was being pressed
in by rope and leather on every inch of her body, a constant
and very vivid reminder of her helplessness. Mark could see
the outline of ropes around her legs through the leather
encasing them, so tight was the sheath.
Mark paused to take a drink when someone asked him if
Nora really sleep every night so bound in leather. Mark
pursed his lips and admitted that no, she didn't. Nora had
later admitted to Mark that she didn't spend every night like
that. Only the weekday nights, she said. On the weekends
her husband put her into really strict bondage!
We chuckled and admitted that such leather bondage was
pretty good. We had all seen similar bondage from the
leather-lovers in the Club and knew that it could be very
stimulating and exciting. For both the binder and bindee.
Then came Ronald's turn. He sighed and said that he,
being newer to the bondage field, had less experience with
such matters but that he had one time seen some bondage that
was both strict and unusual. He had a mistress on the side,
something his wife did not know about, and he visited this
young lady once a week or so, paying in exchange a portion of
her rent and allowance. It worked out well as he liked her
and she was totally open minded about his bondage tastes.
Well, one evening he was due to visit Charlene. Unlocking
her door with his key, he entered to find a dark apartment
with no sign of life. Exploring a bit he found her bedroom
door was closed. He opened it. Inside it was dark but he
heard a familiar sound, the muffled moan of a female in
distress as filtered through a gag. He flipped on the
lights.
Charlene was indeed in distress. For long moments
Ronald could do nothing but stare. His mistress was
suspended in mid-air in the center of the bedroom. Moreover,
she was completely naked save for a ball gag and leather
bands around her wrists and ankles. Someone had screwed
heavy metal rings into the floor on opposite sides of the
room and another set into the ceiling next to the wall.
Charlene had been stretched out between those rings in a
giant "X", arms and legs spread wide. Leather bands
encircled her wrists and ankles but rope continued from the
bands to the rings. She was so far above the floor that her
belly button was level with Ronald's nose.
The naked, wide open body in such unique bondage had an
immediate effect upon Ronald. Assuming that Charlene had
requested someone to put her in this bondage as a surprise
for him, he threw off his clothes, tearing some of them in
the process, and threw himself upon her body. Of course, he
discovered that a girl suspended several feet off the floor
could not easily be raped. Her pussy, it was true, was in
good position for the attention of his tongue or fingers, but
his tool was not normally capable of reaching such heights.
Necessity being the mother of something, Ronald grabbed a
chair and stood upon it that he might reach the promised
land.
Later, after a quick but satisfying orgasm for both of
them, he untied her legs and allowed her to stand upon the
chair while he released her arms. It was when he unbuckled
the gag that he found out that Charlene had not been so
displayed for him but rather that another of her "customers"
had bound her like that as cruel joke. This other guy
figured that a sexy, beautiful girl like Charlene had more
boyfriends than just him and one of them would find her in a
day or two. Fortunately Charlene had spent only one day in
her suspended spreadeagle and had not suffered any permanent
injury.
That, we agreed, was indeed strict bondage and quite
inescapable, which is, of course, the first and most
important definition of strict bondage.
Then it was my turn. Once, I related, I had the
pleasure to be challenged by a delightfully cury young
miss who insisted that I couldn't dream up a bondage position
that both prevent her escape and tax her ability to endure.
Since Susan had a healthy, full figure to go along with her
innocent and sweet looks, I accepted the challenge. Being
aware of her tendency to prefer nudity to clothes when bound
up didn't hurt, either.
On the evening of the challenge, she showed up at my
house wearing a wonderfully tight dress with ridiculously
high heels she could hardly walk in and smug grin that said
other males had answered her challenge and failed.
The playroom was equipped with a number of rings in the
ceiling, walls and floor. It was also soundproofed and the
window had drapes so thick as to prevent any light from
escaping. And females never escaped from that room, either.
Susan looked approvingly at the ropes I had laid out
and nodded at the rings. She stipulated that there was to be
ropes only, no chains or handcuffs, etc. There were to be no
ropes around the neck (a precaution I normally observe
anyway), and that I would not allow my hands to wander to
places of her body of interest to a man but not necessary to
the process of binding her. Should I take such liberties I
would be slapped silly when she untied herself, I was
assured. I agreed to the provisions and we began.
First off she removed her clothes without my asking.
Her body was indeed as beautiful as I had imagined from the
curves of her clothing. She bicycled a great deal and
displayed a wonderful muscle tone with being overdeveloped.
Being in good shape, she assured me, was a big aid in her
overcoming the bondage placed upon her by over-confident
males.
I began by placing her wrists together, palms facing
inward, and binding them. I took my time, placing each
winding of the cotton clothesline carefully so that the ropes
were even and fairly snug. Then I wrapped the rope between
her arms and over the wrist ropes to cinch them down. I tied
three very tight knots then cinched down a couple more turns.
Then I tied three more knots and cinched down again. The
final three knots left about two feet of rope hanging free.
She noted the rope hanging down and smirked at such
sloppiness. I then bound her elbows after pulling them
together. That bondage was also cinched down and multiply
knotted. Then the rope dangling from her wrists went up to
the elbow bondage where it was wrapped tightly and knotted
half a dozen times. She had been following the bonds
as they went on and was not smirking now. She knew that the
final knots being up at her elbows would make them impossible
to reach.
I wrapped loops around her hips and wrists, pinning her
arms to her bottom. I cinched that rope down between her
arms and body then ran rope from her wrists down between her
legs and up to the rope in front. It passed over that rope
and back through to her wrists. Those crotch ropes were
pulled tight and knotted several times. Then the end of the
rope was passed up to the elbow bondage and the final knots
placed there.
In a similar manner I bound her legs at the ankles and
again above the knees. As I fetched the gag I noticed that
Susan's nipples were standing out, rigid as if she were
highly excited. I had seen that reaction too many times
before when binding women to not know what it meant.
I selected a ball for a gag that was just large enough
to fit into Susan's mouth. It was, of course, tightly
strapped in the back. Then I added a discipline hood, the
kind that is made of soft leather and laced up the back so
they can be made very tight, like a second skin. Only her
nose showed through the hood. I explained as I laced it very
tightly that the hood was to assure she would not be able to
use her mouth or teeth to aid in her escape attempt. Also, I
sweetly told her, the hood helps because it prevents her from
seeing her bondage.
Now I was almost ready. I helped her down to the floor
and tied a heavier rope around her ankle ropes. That rope
went up to the ring in the center of the ceiling. Soon Susan
was suspended completely off the floor and upside down. Her
leather-encased head was twisting this way and that as if in
indecision and her fingers fluttered nervously. That was a
very helpless girl, and yet I was not finished with her. For
a girl who had demolished other male egos one must take
every precaution.
On the top of the discipline hood there was a small loop
of leather. Susan had probably not notice it there. And she
might not have noticed that directly under the ring in the
ceiling was another ring in the floor. Humming merrily to
myself, I tied a short piece of rope to the hood's loop and
to the floor ring, pulling it snug so that her head ceased
its turnings. Now Susan was stretched out between the floor
and ceiling, in strict bondage and upside down. I informed
her that it was now her turn in this contest, speaking loudly
so she could be able to hear me inside that leather hood.
And I informed her that I would return to free her in two
hours, the agreed upon time limit.
I returned in two hours to find a sweating, exhausted
and very defeated girl. No sooner had the ropes been removed
from her arms then she embraced my legs and vowed eternal
submission to the male who could make her so helpless.
Everyone agreed that the upside down bondage was very
good. But some thought the garage post might have been a
little better, while some held out for encasing the girl in
leather and strapping her down to the table. Only Ronald
insisted that an X suspension was better but his logic was
based on the fact that only that position of them all allowed
for access and the performance of the sex act. The argument
and more examples continued on into the night, as is usual at
the BondageMasters' Club.
Which did you think was the strictest bondage?
Like Father, Like Son
by John Savage
Lynda smoothed the nylon over her shapely leg and
affixed the garter snaps to the top of it high up on her
thigh. After slipping on the high heels she stood to view
the results in the mirror. Looking back at her was a tart, a
whore dressed in her working clothes, or perhaps the starlet
in a porno movie. The girl was young, only eighteen, and
pretty, with long blonde hair falling to just the level of
her pert nipples. She studied her face as she often had done
in the mirror at home. The lips were a little too large but
they were made to pout. Her eyes were bright blue, outlined
now in a hint of blue shadow. The overall appearance was
still that of an innocent and sweet teenager girl next door.
She wanted to stamp her feet but was having enough trouble
standing on the five inch high heels. Even applying makeup
and dressing like a harlot hadn't altered her youthful
appeal.
She turned to study the effect of the clothes. The bra
was lacy and see through, showing off her large breasts
rather than hiding them. She could easily see her erect
nipples poking at the black satin. The panties were more of
a G-string, a tiny bit of black nylon in the shape of a vee
that almost covered her pubic patch and was little more than
a string around her waist and between her bottom cheeks. The
garterbelt was thin, simply a support for the nylons. She
had chosen the plain black one over those with frills and
lace. The nylons were dark brown and had the old fashion
seam running down the back. It had been maddening for her to
try and get that seam straight. She wondered how her mother
had done it every day. The shoes were black patented leather
with ridiculously high heels. She could see the tip of her
nyloned toes sticking through the opening at the end.
The effect was certainly not the Lynda her friends knew.
Before that mirror was a full-figured woman, youthful and
with wonderfully firm breasts and legs, and a flat tummy, but
undoubtedly a very real woman and very sexy.
She sighed, wishing she could have made her face look a
little older but otherwise pleased with the effect. The old
fashioned nylons felt strange to wear but she had to admit
the effect was interesting. And those high heels! Being
just over five foot and eight inches, Lynda had never felt
the need for high heels. But standing on tiny heels that
raised her own heel five inches above carpet was something
else. Yet she had to yet again admit that the effect was
nice. The shape of her legs had changed. She was not sure
just what the difference was but they certainly had never
looked as sexy before.
But seven o'clock was coming up and she had to hurry to
prepare herself for Steve's coming. Going to the bed she
checked the placement of ropes. Then she sat down in the
middle of the bed and spread her legs wide. Each high heeled
foot came to rest on a length of rope. The other ends of
those ropes were tied tightly to the corner legs of the bed.
Bending over Lynda took one rope and wrapped it tightly
around an ankle. Several knots held it firm. Then she
secured the other ankle. Stretching back until she was
laying propped up on her elbows, she tugged at each ankle to
confirm that the legs were securely bound with no chance of
the ropes coming loose. Then she lay on her back and picked
up the leather gag she had found in that strange little book
store on Main street. It was one of those book stores that
catered to adult tastes and also carried a selection of what
the clerk referred to as "B&D" equipment. Lynda had been
intrigued by the leather cuffs, handcuffs and other bondage
items displayed behind the glass case. And more than a
little embarrassed by the display of rubber penises. But she
had bought what she had decided she would need and ignored
the silly smirk on the clerk's face.
The gag was simple but effective. Lynda knew, she had
tried it. It was a band of leather with a buckle so that it
could be passed over the mouth and buckled behind the head.
Attached to the inside of the gag was a leather ball that
filled the center of the mouth enough to push her tongue
down. When Lynda had tried it she found the taste something
less than desirable but it had been effective. She also
liked the helpless look it gave her face when she viewed the
tightly strapped leather in the mirror.
With the gag in place she turned her attention to the
final piece of her plan. Placing her hands above her head
she found the handcuffs. Her measurements had been pretty
close and she had to stretch and wiggle her body upwards as
much as the ankle ropes allowed in order for her to place her
wrists one at a time in the metal circlets and click them
shut. As the second one clicked shut until it was firm
around her wrists a shiver of excitement danced down her
spine. Up to that point she could have undone the ropes and
retreated from her plan. But now her wrists were both locked
firmly above her head and with that her entire body was
secured and helpless. The handcuffs, she knew, could not be
moving no matter how she struggled. She had also purchased a
short length of small chain and two padlocks. One end she
padlocked to the frame under the bed. The other end was
padlocked to the small link joining the two cuffs.
Lynda tested her bondage. Her knees could bend only the
slightest and there was no way she could bring her legs
together. Her wrists were captives in steel and would stay
such until freed by someone with the key. She wiggled her
body and noted how the large breasts jiggled within the
flimsy bra. Good, she thought. When Steve comes in the door
a bit of honest struggling will put on a good display, a
display that should evoke extreme sexual excitement. And
then he would have his way with the bound down and helpless
Lynda. She sighed.
Since he had become her boyfriend Lynda had sought new
ways to excite this male and simulate his lovemaking. For
Steve, you see, had a little problem keeping an erection long
enough to please the highly sexual Lynda. Still she loved
him and tried her best to tease and excite him. Once he had
been looking at a old movie and made the comment that he
found those nylons with the seams and garterbelts a real
turn-on. It had taken several weeks to find the clothes and
bondage equipment but now she was prepared to shock him with
a wanton display of sexually stimulating dress and bondage,
both of which he liked.
And Lynda had to admit to herself that she found the
erotic clothing exciting. And the feeling of helplessness,
the knowing that she was unable to free herself, that she
would stay stretched out on that bed for as long as her
boyfriend wanted, was doing strange and wonderful things
inside her. Visions of Steve leaving her bound to the
bed all night and repeatedly screwing her flashed in her mind
and left her mouth dry and her body tinglely all over.
Steve had told her he was coming back to his apartment
at seven so she had let herself in at six and brought her
sexy clothes and ropes. In twenty minutes he should be
coming in to finding the girl of his dreams awaiting
helplessly for his pleasure. And her's.
Lynda giggled into her gag then, just as a test, cried
out in a simulated but loud moan of pleasure. The cry was
nicely muffled by the leather inside and over her mouth.
Steve liked girls helpless and he would find a prime example
laying on his own bed. The twenty minutes passed slowly for
a bound up girl. Yet there was a strange sort of excitement
and that made it a very pleasurable twenty minutes.
Suddenly there was a sound from the front room. Lynda
tensed and felt quivery inside . Footsteps approached the
bedroom door. She gulped and began her struggling act.
Except it wasn't totally an act. The thought suddenly
occurred to her that perhaps this wasn't Steve! Maybe a
burglar! Or...
It was Steve. He stood in the doorway and stared open
mouthed. Lynda increased her struggled, especially those
that jiggled her breasts and thrust her hips up and down
suggestively. She made moaning noises. And she was not
acting. She suddenly found herself very horny. She wanted
her man to rip off his clothes and throw himself upon her
body in a rage of lust.
Steve stood there with his mouth hanging open. "Well,
shit!" he finally managed. Lynda's heart sank when she saw
him stagger a bit as he crossed to the bed. It was obvious
he had been drinking again and that meant what lovemaking
ability he normally had would be right out the window. Even
with her dressed like a whore and totally helpless on his
bed, he showed only mild curiosity. All those really great
wiggles were wasted, she moaned inwardly.
"What the hell you doin', woman? What, can't talk?
Shit! And where'd you get them funny shoes? And all that
other stuff? You didn't take any of my money, did you?" He
paused to sniff. "You're the damnest, weirdest woman I ever
had."
Lynda wanted to cry. All those bad things in Steve were
coming out right when she had wanted and expected a loving,
excited male.
A male hand roughly grabbed her right breast to kneed
it. The treatment was too harsh and hurt her flesh but it
was something and she responded with a moan and tensing of
her body. She pleaded, both for him continue and to be more
gentle, but the words never formed and only whining noises
came out of the leather gag.
Steve squeezed the breast and pinched the rigid nipple
but his heart just wasn't in it. "Hell," he said, "I need a
drink." He left and there followed sound of banging and
clinking glass. He looked mad when he reappeared. "Shit,
ain't got nothin' here." He sniffed again and eyed Lynda.
"Ain't you the dumbest broad. Shit, I didn't tell you to get
all dressed up funny. And I'll be the one to tie you up when
I want it. You did that yourself?" Lynda nodded. "Hell,
ain't that stupid! A cunt that ties herself up! Shit, I
need a drink." He stumbled away and Lynda heard the front
door slam.
Lynda's heart sank as her hopes for a fantastic night
disappeared. She wanted to cry. Steve would go out and find
his drink. And another. He wouldn't be back into very late,
if then. There had been times when he didn't come back until
late the next day.
Lynda wanted to scream with frustration. She jerked
against the handcuffs but only hurt her wrists. Then
suddenly she froze as it dawned on her that when Steve had
stumbled out, there also went her freedom. She had wanted
him to keep her tied down and make love to her all night.
Now she just wanted out.
Now her efforts were not to please a man but to
really escape. But, after ten minutes of frantic struggling
she had only tightened down the ropes on her ankles and hurt
her wrists. Her body still lay stretched out invitingly on
the bed. Too bad there was no man to accept that invitation.
Just as Lynda was accepting the long, lonely wait she
would have until Steve sobered up and came home, there was
the front door opening. Lynda sucked in her breathe and hope
flared inside. But a minute later a head showed at the door
way and it wasn't Steve. This man was handsome but older and
carried a package. He seemed very surprised to find a nearly
naked girl tied down to a bed but not shocked. He entered
and put the package down on the dresser.
For a while the two looked at each other, Lynda fearful
and embarrassed, the man puzzled. Then he frowned. Then he
smiled. "Now let me figure this out," he said. "Steve knew
his father was coming over tonight with some of his stuff
from home. Being a little crazy, like his old man, he
decides that he's going to give me a birthday present. It's
only two weeks away, you know." He paused and stroked his
chin. "But what to give his old man who has everything?
Then it comes to him: give him a girl! And what does he do?
He gets the girl, probably a professional lady of the
evening, to dress up in a way that he knew would turn on a
man old enough to remember seamed nylons. And he ties her
down to his bed and leaves her there for his father to find."
He shook his head in wonderment. "I would never had
thought Steve could have come up with such a wild idea. And
so much an appreciated one."
He smiled warmly down at the imprisoned girl and began
taking his clothes off. Lynda lay there stunned for long
seconds then began struggling against the ropes.
"Don't worry, dear, your performance is great. I do so
love the way a girl looks when she's tied up and helpless.
And you're about the best looking thing I've ever seen.
Steve sure can pick them."
Lynda cried out and moaned. She knew her body was
exciting this man with its struggled but she also had to
communicate to him that he was totally wrong! She pulled and
twisted, aware that it was a great show but for the wrong
reason.
Suddenly Steve's father was down to nothing and Lynda
gasped. This man might have been older than she but that
body was fine looking, trim and firm. There might be a touch
of grey at the temples but that rod was erect, pointed
straight at her pussy and huge! Lynda whined pitifully then
sighed. She wanted to laugh. She was getting what she
wanted but from the wrong man! Then she forgot about
laughing as he climbed upon the bed and began.
It came as a shock to the helpless girl when this man
didn't just push her thin panties aside and ram that huge rod
home. Instead he began stroking her legs with gentle hands.
After initial fear, she settled down. This man knew
what he was doing! The gentle fingers traced lines upon her
bare skin and over nyloned skin. They tickled and teased and
simulated nerve endings where Lynda hadn't realized she even
had nerves. The spread and bound legs could not be closed
and the inside of her thighs became a prime target for his
attentions. Then he was along side her, his fingers and
tongue teasing her nipples.
Lynda was surprised to find that she was already
sexually excited and his man was playing upon her body like
it was a fine instrument and he an expert. Soon she was
moaning and swaying the few inches allowed her body as she
responded to his touch. Then his head disappeared from her
view between her legs. At first Lynda was puzzled but then
she felt the panties pulled aside and her private part
opened. Suddenly she jerked, baffled by a feeling she had
never felt. Then she moaned in sincere pleasure and
surrendered herself to the incredible sensations as his
tongue lapped her most private and sensitive spot. With
skilled hands and tongue this man took her to heights she
hadn't believed possible. No man had every done a thing but
squeeze her breasts until she was juicy and ready then rammed
home his tool until he came. But this man drove her crazy
with pleasure she had never known existed. She crashed into
a series of orgasms that left her whole body trembling.
Then he entered her, slowly and gently, and began a love
making such as she had never experienced. Several orgasms
later she was crying out in mindless pleasure as her body
arched hard upward to meet his body. She floated away.
A long time later Lynda came back to earth. She slowly
became aware that she was still bound to the bed but the gag
had been taken out. Steve's father was siting in a chair,
reading a book and smoking a pipe. The sweet aroma drifted
over to the captive girl.
"Glad to see you're back with the living," he said
warmly as he put the book down. "You spaced out for a while.
Never have understood how women do that but it must be
wonderful."
"It is," Lynda whispered. "It is."
"Good."
"But I have to tell you that I'm not..."
"Not a professional?"
Lynda frowned. "You knew?"
"Of course. I've seen your picture. From Steve. By
the way, my name is Mark."
"Hello, Mark. Please excuse if I don't shake hands,"
Lynda replied with a laugh in her voice. She liked this man.
"You're forgiven."
"But if you knew I wasn't a... Professional, why did
you..."
"Why did I make up that little story? Well, I figured
that if you liked what I did to you, you wouldn't mind. And
if you didn't like it , I'd just leave you tied down and
gagged and let you think it was all a misunderstanding. You
did liked it, didn't you?"
"It was the most wonderful thing I've every felt."
"Good. Do you want to be untied now?"
Lynda paused before replying. "What are my options?"
"Well, I can untie you and we'll go our separate paths.
Or I can leave you tied and replace the gag for Steve to find
you whenever he returns. He drinking again?"
"Yes."
"Or... I can leave you tied down and rape you again."
He smiled. "Later I'll untie you and we'll go some place for
a nice late dinner."
Lynda found herself with two emotions. One was a very
strong attraction for to this man. The other was a tingle
and warmth beginning in her pussy. Here was a man who had
all the nice features of Steve without the bad. And without
the low sex drive. She could see his rod was again standing
upright, pointing at her. She smiled back. "I'll take
option number three. Rape away!"
But as he was beginning to excite her captive body she
had more practical thoughts. "Are you good at tying a girl
up?"
"An expert."
"Do you like it? Ohhh, that's the right spot!"
"Love it."
"Are you married?"
"Not any more."
"Got a girlfriend? Ohhhh... That's nice."
"Not right now."
"Want one? OOOOOOOHHHHHH! OOOOHHHHHH! TAKE ME!"
"Okay."
The End
THEEND
Justice is Blind
by John Savage
"And would you tell the Court in your own words, Mrs.
Markham, of the events that happened to you on the evening of
July 24th at the hands of your husband?" asked Sleazer of
Sleazer, Sleazer and Hardcore, the attorney representing the
beautiful and well-built Mrs Markham.
"Well, I was getting ready to go to bed when my husband
tied me up and raped me! He had me all tied up and took
advantage of my helpless condition."
"Mrs. Markham," interrupted the Judge. "It would help
these divorce proceedings if you could give myself and the
jury a better idea of precisely what happened. For example,
can you tell us exactly how he tied you?"
"Your Honor," interrupted Attorney Sleazer, "we have
anticipated such questions and with Mrs. Markham's help have
prepared an exhibit that will show you and the jury exactly
what Mr. Markham did to his wife."
"Proceed," said the Judge, agreeably.
Attorney Sleazer motioned to an aide near the back of
the courtroom who in turn opened the doors and disappeared
for a second. When he return he was escorting a beautiful
brunette wearing baby-doll pajamas and had her arms bound
behind her back. They walked down the aisle to where
Attorney Sleazer held open the low gate for her to approach
the bench.
"The exhibit you see is as an accurate a representation
as can be made," Attorney Sleazer said. The girl you see is
a professional model chosen because her general size and
build is very close to Mrs. Markham." The judge leaned
forward for a better look. He had to agreed that this woman
was indeed build very much like Mrs. Markham, both having
larger than average breasts and very shapely legs. Attorney
Sleazer continued, "As you can see, Mr. Markham tied his
wife's arms behind her back with the wrists crossed and the
elbows linked by that rather tight winding of ropes here. We
have even tried to duplicate the condition of her clothing
after his sexual assault. This is Mrs. Markham's actually
pajamas. You will note the torn condition of the baby-doll,
exposing one breast without shame."
Turning to Mrs. Markham, he continued, "Would you please
tell the court exactly what he did to you after he bound your
arms in this cruel manner?"
"Yes. Well, he fondled my breasts for a while as
I was standing there, still frozen in shock at the quickness
with which he had tied my arms. Then he messaged my... My
sexual parts until I was... Well, until I was rather horny.
Then he threw me on the bed and pulled off the bottom of my
baby-doll."
"Like this?" asked Attorney Sleazer as he pulled down
the model's filly panties. She cooperated by lifting each
foot to allow him to remove them completely. He lifted them
high for all to see.
"Yes. And while I was laying there, nearly naked and
helpless, he... Well, what you said, he assaulted me." She
paused dramatically for several seconds then added, with a
slight smile, "three times."
"But this was not the end of his mistreatment of you,
was it?" prompted Attorney Sleazer.
"No. When I came to after swooning, I found he had tied
me another way. It was terrible and most embarrassing."
"If it pleases the court, I have prepared another
exhibit to demonstrate this new and shameful bondage he
subjected her to." Attorney Sleazer motioned again and
another girl was escorted into the courtroom and up to the
judge's bench. Exhibit A moved aside to stand by the jury
box, only a few inches from the ogling eyes of twelve honest
men and women. Mostly men.
This new exhibit was a blonde of the same shapely curves
and large breasts of Mrs. Markham. It had been difficult for
her to make her way down the aisle because her legs were tied
together at the ankles and knees. She had to hop. Her arms
were also tied, behind her back and in a most cruel fashion.
A harness of rope had been made by wrapping rope around each
shoulder and across her back. Her hands had then been pulled
high up on her back, crossed and bound, both to each other
and to the harness. It was obvious that not only was it
impossible for her to lower her hands, but that this position
was very uncomfortable. The tattered remains of a baby-doll
was hanging from her shoulders, held on mostly by the rope
harness. Both breasts were sticking out in front and the
nipples were erect. There was no bottom to the pajamas.
"You Honor will please note that at this point Mrs.
Markham was so close to being naked as to hardly be called
clothed. Since Mr. Markham was left bound like this for a
total of four hours, we tied this model in this manner before
this morning's session about six hours ago so that
she would reflect the same amount of pain and discomfort Mrs.
Markham experienced." He turned to Mrs. Markham. "And
please tell the court what he did to you while you were tied
up like this."
"He... He whipped my bottom."
"Like this?" Attorney Sleazer withdrew the belt from
his pants. Without being told to, the model turned her back
to the bench and bent over. A swish and a crack sounded and
the model jerked upright with a cry of pain. "As your Honor
can see, we have simulated the approximately two dozen
strokes given to Mrs. Markham by a whipping given to this
model right after she was tied." He waved Exhibit B aside
and she hopped off to stand by Exhibit A. "Then what
happened, Mrs. Markham?"
"Well, after he whipped my bottom he made me kneel down
and... Well, a lady can hardly say such a thing out loud.
He forced me to... to... To perform an oral sexual act."
The model was helped down to her knees where she bowed
forward and lifted her head. She made an "O" of her open
mouth.
"That's quite alright, Your Honor, you needn't come down
from the bench. If you'll return and zip your pants back up
I'm sure we can arrange for a private demonstration of this
part in your chambers. Later. Thank you. Now, what
happened after that."
"Well, after he was satisfied he went to sleep on the
couch and left me laying on the floor. I think I stayed
there for about four hours. Then he woke up."
"And what happened to you then?"
"He untied my arms but tied me another way before I knew
what was happening. This time he tied me to some kind of
wooden framework he had made in the garage."
There was a commotion at the rear of the courtroom.
"That's only my aides bring in Exhibit C. We took the wooden
framework from that garage to introduce as evidence." Three
men were manhandling a large and bulky object down the aisle.
Beyond the fact that it was taller than a man and about six
feet long, nothing could be seen of the details because the
whole thing was covered with a tarp.
"What happened then, Mrs. Markham?"
"When my husband finished tying me to that thing he...
well he put a plastic vibrator inside my pussy and turned it
on. Then he left!"
"How long did he leave you, Mrs. Markham?"
"Until the next day. About noon, I think it was."
"Your Honor, we have again set up a demonstration of the
exact torment Mrs. Markham was made to undergo. We introduce
Exhibit C." With a flourish he pulled the tarp free.
The framework was a rectangle. The model was tied with
arms and legs wide spread in an "X", each limb tied with rope
and pulled extremely tightly towards one of the corners. She
was completely naked. And she was completely upside down! A
wire ran from a couple of car batteries on the wheeled cart
the framework rested on, up one side, over to the center top
and then down, straight into the upturned pussy. Nothing
could be seen of the end of the wire but a humming noise and
the twitching and jerkings of the girl's hips suggested that
the mentioned vibrator was inside the model's pussy,
vibrating its little heart out. The girl's eyes were closed
and her body was covered in a fine sweat. Trembles passed
along her taut legs muscles and along her belly. Her hips
rocked back and forth the few inches allowed her by the
extremely tight bondage, approximating the sexual thrustings
of a highly excited woman.
"In the interests of accuracy we secured this model in
the same manner as Mrs. Markham had been. Including the
vibrator. She has been subject to this treatment for
approximately the same six hours that Mrs. Markham was."
At a wave of his hand the aides rolled the framework
over to the jury box, placing it so that the front side of
the naked and suspended girl, the one with all the good
parts, was facing the jury. Occasionally the upside down
girl cried out soft moans of pleasure and shook her head but
her eyes never opened and, although not gagged, she never
once protested this harsh treatment nor begged to be let
loose.
"And then what happened, Mrs. Markham?" continued
Attorney Sleazer.
"Well, he came out to the garage and untied me. He
apologized for what he had done to me, blaming it on the fact
that he was drunk at the time."
"I'm sure your Honor and the ladies and gentlemen of the
jury can see through these exhibits just how cruelly Mrs.
Markham was treated at the hands of her husband."
The judge and jury were certainly staring hard at the
exhibits aligned before them. Exhibit B had bent over so the
jury could see her bruised bottom better. Exhibit A was
waving her exposed breast in the face of anyone she could get
to pay attention. Exhibit C just kept on moaning.
"After experiencing this terrible treatment you felt you
were forced to sue for divorce, right Mrs. Markham?"
"Yes. He did all those things to me and then said he
was ashamed of how he had treated me and would never even
dream of doing anything like that again. Can you imagine,
that brute absolutely refused to do any of that stuff to me
again! Of course I have to divorce the cad!"
The End
Susan's Story -- Part I: Immobility
The following is a letter written by Susan at my
request. Susan is a very real person and a sweet girl, and
I have placed her in enough strict bondage to knew full well
just how much she loves it. I have cleaned up the spelling
and grammar a bit but other than that this is Susan's story.
I hope you enjoy it.
John Savage
Dear People,
My name is Susan and I was asked by John Savage if I
would write to you and tell something about the way I enjoy
being tied up. I understand you are interested in
submissive females. I guess I qualify as one. I'm female
and I love to be tied up. Maybe that sounds strange but I
like it. I'm not sure I can explain why but I do and that's
all that I care about.
My first heavy bondage experiences came when I was a
college student, a junior majoring in English, and living in
the dorms on campus. My roommate, Nancy, understood my love
of bondage and tied me up when we could get away with it. A
dorm room isn't always the most private of places so we
worked it out that she only tied me up after most everyone
had gone to bed and we weren't likely to get visitors or on
a weekend when a lot of the students go home. We were
planning to get an apartment as soon as we could, but at
that time we lived in the dorm.
Nancy and I got to talking at the beginning of the year
about sex and it sort of came out that I feel real sexually
excited when I'm tied up. I thought she would laugh but
instead she said that she understood and would help me if I
wanted. We got some rope from a hardware store and began
experimenting. We did it at night with the lights out. I
would light a small candle so we had some light. Usually I
wore my panties only. At first I used to wear a bathing
suit or my panties and bra. But after a while I got to
wearing only a pair of panties and sometimes Nancy would
tease my nipples after she'd made me all helpless. But
that's all she did. She's not lesbian and I didn't mind. I
think back and am sure it would have been fun if she were,
but back then I was so happy being well bound that I didn't
mind the lack of other sexual attention.
Anyway, we got to playing around. At first she wasn't
too good at tying me. I'm kind of strong for a girl, and
the first few times I could get out easily. But Nancy
learned that I don't mind being tied real tight. She also
learned that I'm serious about being tied. I want it for
real. I mean, if I can get undone, what's the use of being
tied? So she got good at tying me until she tied real tight
and I never got free, no matter how long I struggled.
We found that what worked best was to tie me and leave
me tied for long periods. Since she didn't have sex with
me, all the pleasure I got is from being tied. And I like
being tied up for long times, sometimes hours. I have
rather good circulation and can stand being tied for a very
long time. Nancy knew that and wasn't afraid that she'd
hurt me or anything.
Usually I got tied at night. Since we didn't stay up
real late but didn't dare get me tied until after about ten
or so, we didn't have much time. I mean, both of us would
have been terribly embarrassed if someone were to come by to
visit and find me tied, nearly naked, to a chair in the
middle of the room. Nancy wouldn't have liked it either and
would probably never have tied me again. We turned out the
lights and I lit the small candle on my desk. We made sure
the door was locked and even put a piece of cloth along the
bottom so that not even the candle light showed out. Then I
took off my clothes down to the panties. Usually Nancy
would ask me how I wanted to be tied. My favorite ways are
what they call a hog tie and being tied to something real
solid. I wished we had had a big, round wooden post in the
middle of our room but we didn't. Usually I got tied on my
bed but sometimes to the chair. I liked to struggle and
that's why I liked to be tied to something solid, so I
couldn't move much and couldn't make noise. One of the best
ways we found was for Nancy to tie my arms behind my back.
She used the clothesline we bought and I hid in my suitcase.
She pulled my arms together real tight, even making my
elbows touch behind my back. She always tied the knots up
by my elbows, where my fingers couldn't reach them.
After my arms are tied real tight I sat down in the
chair. We had metal chairs and they're pretty strong. I
put my arms over the back of the chair and Nancy tied a rope
around my waist and the chair back. Then she tied my left
ankle to the left back chair leg. Then my right ankle to
the right chair leg in the back. She tied the ankles up
near the seat so that my legs are bent double and really
forced up. She tied them to the back of the chair so they
couldn't slide down the metal chair leg. I had to spread my
legs real wide but that's okay. Then she tied a rope from
my wrists down under the chair and up the front. She pulled
that rope through the rope around my waist and back down to
my wrists again. Then back up to my waist where she tied
it. That pulled my arms down and prevented me from moving
them from side to side or reaching for any of the knots on
my ankles. It also sort of locked my body against the chair
back.
After all that she was usually finished. I was tied up
pretty good and couldn't move much. My legs couldn't move
at all because of the way they were bent and tied to the
back legs of the chair. My arms couldn't move and my back
was held against the back of the chair. About the only
things I could move were my head and feet and my fingers.
It's a real way to be tied, let me tell you! I remember
that I began to feel helpless when she brought my first leg
up and tied the ankle. By the time she was finished, I was
feeling real helpless and kind of tingling inside.
Oh, I'll have to tell you about the time we tried to
make me completely immobile. Nancy tied me just as I've
described but before she tied my hands behind me, we wrapped
my hands with tape. I made each hand into a fist and she
wrapped what is called strapping tape around and around my
hands until there was no way I could open my fists. Then,
after she tied my arms with the elbows touching, she wrapped
more tape around both hands, taping the fists together. I
couldn't even wiggle my fingers! Then, after I was tied to
the chair in the usual fashion, she tied some cord around my
big toes and pulled it back up to my elbows. Can you imagine
what I'm saying? First off, my feet were pulled back and
tied to the chair legs so that the bottoms of my feet were
pointed back and sort of up. Then she tied my big toes up
towards my elbows so that I had to bend my feet into an arch
that was downright painful. But it keep my feet from
moving. I couldn't unbend my feet at all and since the big
toes were pulled inward as well as up, I couldn't even move
them from side to side.
Then there came my head. Normally I could move my head
around. Didn't do me any good but I could move it. But
that one night we were going to try and make it so I
couldn't move at all and we had to do something about the
head. Nancy had a piece of round wood that we had screwed
two metal rings into the ends of. She put that in my mouth
and tied cord to the two rings at the ends. I'm sure you
can guess what came next. Those cords went down to my
elbows and were pulled until my head was forced back. I had
to look up at the ceiling. It held my head from moving
forward or backward. But we discovered that I could still
shake my head somewhat from side to side. For a while it
looked like there was nothing that we could do but Nancy
came up with an idea.
I have pierced ears. Nancy just put on me a pair of my
earrings that are nothing more than gold hoops. Then she
tied a piece of cord to one earring and stretched it across
the room to my desk where she tied it to one of the desk
legs. The other earring she tied cross the room to a leg of
her bed. She pulled both cords pretty hard until my ears
were being pulled away from my head and hurt. But it
worked! I couldn't shake my head from side to side because
I would probably rip the flesh of my ear.
So there I was. My body was completely unmoving and
unmovable. I couldn't talk with that wood in my mouth so I
was gagged. I really felt helpless. Nancy tickled me for a
while. That may not sound like much, but under the
condition my poor body was in, it was torture! She even
tickled my breasts a bit and I loved that. Then she left me
alone. And I mean alone! She actually left the room with
me sitting there all helpless and hurting. It was wonderful
and terrible at the same time! I could feel myself getting
all hot and excited inside but couldn't do a thing. Usually
I can struggle some and, if Nancy was kind when she tied me,
sometimes rub my private parts against something to get
sexual satisfaction. But that night I couldn't move a thing
and it was terrible. I was horny as hell but couldn't do a
thing about it. I wish I could say that I managed a climax
just from the terrible helplessness but I didn't. I need
some contact with my private part. It doesn't have to be
much but it should be something.
When Nancy came back I was terribly frustrated and
hurting. Of course, I was also exactly as she left me.
After she untied me (about an hour total time from the
moment she put the last knot in place to the time she
started to untie me), I threw myself on my bed and
masturbated like crazy. I didn't even care if Nancy saw me
doing it.
But we did that only once. Nancy agreed that we should
try it again only this time go for two hours instead of one.
She figured (and I was forced to agree) that if she just
leaves me alone I'll have to set a new time record of two
hours. Or three hours. Or whatever she wanted!
Well, that explains about the time we tried to make me
completely immobile. I know it isn't the same reading about
it as living it but I hope you enjoyed my story as much as
I've enjoyed writing it for you. It sure brought back
memories for me!
Yours,
Susan
Susan's Story -- Part II: The Hogtie
The following is another story related to me by Susan,
a real girl who has lived more bondage experiences than most
people fantasize about. She loves bondage and has been tied
up more than anyone else I can think of. And I should know,
it has been my ropes around her many times. Here she tells
us more about her college days and an interesting hogtie.
John Savage
My name is Susan and John insisted I write down some
more about my experiences. He promised that he would reward
me with a nice tight hogtie while he read my letter and
typed it into his computer. And that reminded me of an
interesting afternoon I once spent in a hogtie.
If you read my first letter, you know that my first
heavy bondage experiences came when I was a college student,
at the hands of my roommate, Nancy. She was a delightful
girl to have a as a friend and understood my love of bondage
completely. She used to find the damnest ways for me to be
tied up, usually in our dorm room and apartment but also all
over the campus.
Being that helpless is nice and one of the best ways to
be tied is the hogtie. Generally Nancy hogtied me on the
bed. That worked like this. I got undressed. She tied my
arms behind me with the elbows touching. Then I sat on the
edge of the bed while she tied my ankles and above my knees.
Then I rolled onto the middle of the bed on my stomach. She
tied my ankles up to my wrists until they are touching, that
is, my fingers are spread wide and my palms pressed against
the backs of my ankles. But that wasn't all. Then she tied
a rope from my knees down the end of the bed and to the
rails underneath. Then she tied a loop of rope around my
neck and down the top of the bed. Those two ropes kept me
stretched out and from struggling too much. If I struggled
from side to side, the rope around my neck tightened.
That type of hogtie isn't too bad. I can take it for
hours on end. But the longest time was one Sunday. It was
a holiday weekend and the dorms were pretty empty. Nancy
was going out on a date that day and would be gone all
afternoon. I asked her to tie me while she was gone. I
expected to be just tied arms behind me and legs together
like we often did when she left me tied all night. But
instead she ordered me to strip naked, I mean completely
naked, and then she hogtied me. It was a good hogtie, the
elbows were touching and my hands were tight against my
ankles. Even my knees were tight together. Then she
surprised me. I had thought she was going to leave me on
the bed. I was pretty sure she wouldn't put a rope around
my neck, we didn't do that when she left me alone. But she
rolled me onto the floor and I found myself laying on my
stomach on the rough carpet. Then she rocked me back and
forth and sort of pulled me until she had me over to the
closet. She took out all the shoes and rocked me into the
place under the clothes pole. She took my clothes off the
pole and put them on my bed. I could look up and see the
wooden pole and knew what she was going to do. I was scared
but excited! How can I describe the terror and wonder and
excitement at the thought of being made so extremely
helpless and left alone?
Nancy took a piece of rope and tied it to my elbow
bondage. She knotted it several times firmly then ran it up
to the pole over me and back down to the elbows. There she
pulled until I could feel my elbows being pulled slightly
up. Then she knotted the rope several more times and left
me. A little experimentation showed me how helpless I was.
I could struggled. I could even rock from side to side a
bit. But I couldn't roll over on my side and I couldn't
crawl (a nearly impossible thing when hogtied like that
anyway). I couldn't move more than an inch or so in any
direction before that rope connecting my elbows to the pole
stopped me. I was so deliciously helpless!
I struggled. Then I rested. Then I struggled again.
They were serious struggles. I can't just pretend. When I
struggle I really try to get free with all my might. But I
was helpless. I figured later that she left me about eleven
in the morning. She didn't come home from her date until
well after dinner, about nine that night -- ten hours in a
helpless hogtie!
I was exhausted when she opened the door and turned on
the light. I was in pain. I had also experienced about a
dozen orgasms, entirely from struggling against the ropes
and rubbing my breasts and pussy against the rough carpet.
Nancy told me that her date wanted her to spend the night at
his apartment and she was going to but that she told him she
had to pick up some things back at her dorm room. She said
she didn't think it would have been good to leave me all day
and then all night. She untied me, grabbed a change of
underwear and left. I was a naked, exhausted, pile of flesh
and rope on the floor. But I was happy.
I don't mean to say I was excited and turned on and
enjoying every minute of it. Far from it! There were times
during that ten hours and in bondage since when I truly
wished I were free. There was pain, real pain. My
shoulders hurt so much that I could hardly bring my arms
around in front of my body when she untied me. There were
many times (between orgasms) when I cursed myself for every
letting such things happen to me.
But I still go back and ask again. And come up with
even wilder, more cruel, heavier bondage for Nancy or anyone
to put me in. Does that make sense? I don't think so but I
also don't care. I know what I like. I know what I need.
Hanging Upside Down and the Feather
an excerpt from "Dragon's Lair"
a novel by John Savage
Close call, she told herself. "Young Reporter Becomes
White Slave," was almost the headline. After her pulse
slowed to somewhere close to normal, Lynn went the the
center of the room where the redhead had so recently been
fixed. Fascinated, she stared at the hanging chain and the
wooden triangle. So simple, yet so effective at causing
discomfort and pain. She put one foot on the wooden
triangle and reached up to grab the hanging chain with one
hand. Her other hand reached behind her and grabbed her
right foot as it bend back and up.
Even through the rubber soles of her shoes she could
feel the sharp edge. For a minute she held the position,
noting the stress on her right thigh, wondering what it
would be like to have to stand there, to really have one
wrist handcuffed to the chain and the other wrist
handcuffed to the opposite ankle behind her back, not just
playing make-believe like now. And to stand for an hour,
alone, held by cruel, heartless metal, muscles aching. Then
a second hour. Would a third be possible? Would she have
any choice? Of course not. She would stand and stand and
stand until some other individual, some savior, came to free
her from the clutch of hard metal.
Lynn let go and dropped her leg. She shook her head.
Three hours that girl had been left in this tortous position!
The word agony came to her mind.
She left the room to find the hallway empty. For a
second Lynn considered getting out of there as fast as she
could. One good scare should be enough to teach any
reasonable young girl a lesson. But she was a reporter and
never claimed to be reasonable. Her consideration of escape
lasted only long enough for her to realize that there were
major elements still missing from her story. Like who the
white slavers were and where they got their girls from. And
where did they send them to?
The next door led to another small room. In the center
was a single metal pole coming up from the floor and ending
a little over three feet later. It was topped with a huge
rubber penis. There were two small rings attached to the
base of the pole. It didn't take Lynn long to figure out
that a girl could be made to straddle that dildoe, to be
lowered onto it until it was up inside her.... If her
ankles were tied to those rings... Well, the girl wouldn't
be walking away, that was for sure.
Lynn stood by the pole and measured it against her
body. She would have to stand on her toes but it wouldn't
be too bad. If her hands were tied behind her and her
ankles secured to those rings... Lynn shuddered a little at
the thought. She would be very helpless, unable to step off
that upthrusting pole. And that huge dildoe, molded into a
good likeness of a male organ, would certainly fill up her
pussy, fill it like no human penis had ever done. Lynn was
no virgin but not a prostitute either. She had seen a few
male rods, but never one quite like this. It wasn't the
length so much as it was the width. It would certain make
her feel filled. And, unlike its human model, this penis
would never go limp.
Lynn sighed. There had been a few times where the
human flesh had been a little weak and Lynn had lost out on
some good love-making just when she was most ready for it.
Those times she would have wished her lover had the
staying-power of this rubber monster.
Tearing herself away from that line of thinking, Lynn,
checked the hallway and went out the door.
The next door was a the end of the hallway and didn't
open into another torture room as she had expected it to.
Instead it revealed an observation room. There was four
empty, comfortable chairs, leather covered and very plush.
The chairs faced three large windows set into an otherwise
blank wall. The arrangement allowed a person to sit in any
of the chairs and view what was going on in any of three
rooms on the other side of those window. And there was
certainly activities going on to watch.
Lynn's first reaction was to retreat before anyone on
the other side of the glass saw there. But before she
turned to go something caught her attention. Each of the
three rooms revealed seemed dark, darker than they should be
if one allowed for the normal levels of light the humans
liked. Then it dawned on her; these were one-way mirrors!
She could see easily into the other rooms, but they would
see only a mirror even if they looked directly at her.
Assured of concealment for the present, Lynn approached
the first window on the left. There were two girls in that
room, and Lynn had trouble believing what they were doing.
One of the girls was of Mexican ancestry. Her hair was long
and shiny black and her skin was chocolate. Because she was
naked, Lynn could see that she had the large breasts and
muscular legs of many of the young Mexican girls. Lynn
guessed her age at no more than nineteen.
The other girl was kind of plain, a mousy looking woman
in her mid-twenties, her hair halfway between brown and
blonde, her figure slender but not remarkable. She was also
nude. Her breasts were only medium sized but held good
firmness and shape. Her muscle tone was good, Lynn guessed
that she played tennis once a week. A typical, average sort
of woman. The kind you see hundreds of times on the street
or in a supermarket and never give a second thought to.
But it was the mousy little one who was free and the
muscular, larger girl who was bound up and helpless. The
raven haired girl was hanging upside down, her ankles lashed
to a pole, which forced her legs wide apart. The center of
the pole had a ring bolted to it and a steel cable hooked to
the ring. On the ceiling was an electric motor and hoist.
That explained how the heavy girl had been pulled up until
her head was a good three feet off the floor. Her arms were
bound behind her back with the wrists facing each other and
the elbows tied. The elbows weren't touching but the
clothesline was cutting so deep into the flesh just above
the elbows that Lynn was convinced that who ever had done
the bondage had tried very hard to make the elbows touch.
That they fell two inches short of that goal was the fault
of the solid build of the Mexican girl, not the efforts of
the binder.
Neither girl showed the slightest interest in Lynn's
direction so she walked up right to the window to watch.
The mousy brunette circled the hanging girl, one hand
lightly touching her body here and there. Every time she
touched, the hanging girl jerked the body away. Lynn looked
closer then she laughed. The hanging girl wasn't struggling
to escape the sharp attention of a needle, nor the burning
sensations of a red-hot poker. She was jerking to avoid a
feather!
It seemed funny to Lynn at first but the more she
thought about it the more it made sense. Being helpless and
tickled could be real torture. Especially for someone who
was very sensitive. Lynn remembered being tickled by her
cousin while he sat on her. That hadn't lasted too long but
it was bad enough. Who knows how long this tickling had
been going on? Or how much more sensitive your body became
when completely naked and hanging upside down?
The brunette continued to circle the tormented girl.
The feather danced over the exposed body, seeking and
finding the most sensitive spots, the tenderest nerves. The
large breasts, strangely shaped by the reversed gravity,
were a favorite target, as were the smooth insides of the
velvet brown thighs. With each jerk the long black hair
swayed and danced in the space between the girl's head and
the floor.
As one hand teased with that horrid feather, the other
unashamedly toyed and stroked the brunette's pussy. She was
enjoying this work.
Lynn watched, sensing that the drama had been building
for sometime and was approaching a climax, perhaps in more
ways than one.
Another turn around the hanging body and the brunette
stopped. The feather fell, unnoticed. Both girls were
breathing hard although Lynn could hear nothing on her side
of the glass. She had noticed they were talking before this
but had been unable to make out any words. The two girls
held hard eye-contact for several long heart beats, both
with their legs wide spread and braced, one firmly on the
ground, the other hanging upside down. Then the hanging
girl slowly closed her eyes. The muscles in her ass began
clenching and relaxing, thrusting her hips gently forward
the few inches this strained position allowed them.
The scene remained static; the only movement was the
slow swaying of the hanging girl as her hips thrust and
relaxed, an indication of the burning within. Slowly her
eyes opened again. They met the brunette's again and held.
Tormentor and tormented. But there was a bond between them:
both woman had bodies that burned with desire, ached for
release.
The brunette stepped forward and lowered her mouth over
the inverted pussy. Lower down the raven haired head lifted
and buried itself between the brunette's thighs. She spread
them a little more to allow easier access then clamped her
hands on the chocolate girl's ass. She dug her nails in
like a wild animal. In a silent frenzy of passion both
females lashed each other's clits with their tongues,
driving each other wilder and wilder.
For a long time the frenzied love-making continued as
Lynn watched, fascinated. It looked as if every muscle in
both bodies were rock hard rigid. The hanging girl's hands
were clenched fists one second and fluttering fingers the
next.
But nothing lasts forever. The brunette's head jerked
up and she moaned her passion so loud that it came faintly
through the thick glass to Lynn. Then she fell to the floor
where she curled up into a ball on the carpet.
Lynn had to remember to breath. She was surprised to
find that she had been digging her fingernails into the
wooden window edge. Taking a deep breath, she shook her
head to break the spell. What an incredible show! Lynn had
never considered herself a lesbian but she was not a sexual
innocent; she had seen two woman making love before and
thought it interesting but little more. But this was
something else! The intensity of their passion came through
the dim glass like a physical blow. Lynn had never seen
anything quite like that before.
The brunette remained on the floor, shivers playing
over her naked body as she hugged herself, eyes closed, off
in a private world of ecstasy. The hanging girl arched her
body and trembled all over for long minutes before quieting
down. Her eyes stayed close and her head swayed back and
forth in dreamy circles, the tips of her long black just
brushing the thigh of the girl on the floor.
Lynn took a step back. She didn't know what to think.
Was this punishment? If so, that Mexican girl didn't look
very punished. She looked as if she were deep in sexual
satisfaction. A reward? Both? Or maybe just part of the
training?
Lynn went to the second window and another scene from a
madman's B&D fantasy...
The End
Hot August Day
an excerpt from "The Bondage Master" by John Savage
There was not the slightest hint of a breeze under the
blazing summer sun. I felt as if I were baking in my clothes
but Laura probably felt worse as she stood in the direct
sunlight wearing only a pair of high heel shoes. Well, the
shoes and some cotton clothesline that held her arms firmly
secured behind her back with many cunning turns and knots far
from the searching fingers. I had bound her almost half an
hour before and she had worked at the ropes nervously for all
that time, twisting this way and that, trying to bring her
arms in front of her body, trying anything that might allow
her to escape her fate. But that hot summer afternoon escape
was not for her. I paused by the car to look over the
landscape, including the naked and bound girl I had brought
into it.
It was California desert, mostly sand with ragged rocks
and a few stunted shrubs here and there. The only signs of
man were the automobile beside us and the road we had
followed to her get here, little more than a track across the
hot earth. Laura stood beside me and looked nervous. She
couldn't say a thing because of the ball gag filling her
mouth and securely strapped behind her head. Keeping her
from verbally changing her mind was a part of the game, a
part of keeping her helpless and obedient to my wishes, no
matter how the beautiful and very sexy woman might suffer.
Laying in bed last night the idea of a desert bondage hike
had seemed amusing to both of us but in this relentless heat
she was having a great many second thoughts. She saw me
looking at her, eyeing her lush body, and shook her head. I
pretended to not see her negative and fetched a couple pieces
of rope from the backseat. She made whining sounds through
her gag and came close to me. She rubbed her body against
mine, teasing my shirt front with her erect nipples in a need
born not entirely from sexual hunger. She was offering me
the only thing she had to barter with. I'm sure she would
have been pulling down my zipper had not her arms been bound
tightly behind her back. I'm sure she figured that if I were
to have sex with her right then I would loose the desire to
leave her alone in this hostile environment.
But she was lacking in bargaining power. I would have
taken her right there on the burning sand if I had been so
inclined. But, being the perverted individual I am, I
figured she would enjoy a bit of sex much more after having
undergone her ordeal. I know I would. I shook my head
slightly and she knew her invitation had been turned down.
Then she bend over from the waist, bowing her head down
until it was the level of my fly and giving me a fine view of
her bound arms. I noted how the ropes had dug into the flesh
just above her elbows and again below them. The ropes were
still very tight and firmly double and triple knotted, all up
by the elbows were the fingers could never reach. Laura
nuzzled her gagged mouth against my pants in an offer that
could hardly be misinterpreted. But I could have easily made
her give me a blow job, on her knees in the hot sand, her
mouth paying homage to my maleness. Then strap her ball gag
back into her mouth and go on with my plans. And she knew
it. After a few moments she rose with a delicious whimper of
defeat.
I looped her hips and wrists with a rope and wrapped a
dozen turns, pinning her wrists against her butt. Then I
cinched that rope down with turns between her arms and body
and more running down between her legs and up to her tummy.
The rope looped over her tummy rope there and passed back
between those lovely legs to her wrists. A few turns there
secured the tension I wanted. But I had left about two feet
of rope which I used to bring the end up to her elbows where
the final three or four knots secured it. I had been careful
to pull apart her vagina lips so that the two ropes passed on
either side of her clit. In the finished product those ropes
were invisible, buried under her lips and crushing her clit
between them. It would be an interesting hike for Laura.
But Laura was young and healthy, a girl well able to
take vigorous treatment as I had proven numerous times. And
just walking along a desert road, even with crotch ropes,
would hardly be a challenge. I walked around behind her as
she stood nervously looking at me. Her long black hair had
been framing her lovely face and descending all the way to
her erect nipples. I pulled it back over her shoulders and
carefully braided it into a single pigtail but one that came
out high up where a ponytail would have. Along with the soft
hair I braided two stands of rope so that the hair and rope
were intertwined firmly. Then I passed the ends of rope down
to her wrists and between the sweaty palms of her hands and
back up to the elbows. There I pulled gently until her head
arched backwards. As I kept the tension with one hand, I
used the other to pull her forehead back until she was
staring almost straight up. I knotted the rope and stood
back.
It was a beautiful sight, a beautiful woman hardly out
of her teens but of full and ripe body, cruelly bound. I
traced the line of her upturned throat down to the full and
rigid nipples. I cupped one heavy breast in a hand as if
weighing it. It was quite firm, almost as if straining to
explode outward from her chest, so effective was the elbow
bondage coupled with pulling the head back. I noted a fine
sheen of sweat on her breasts as they stood proudly in the
bright sunlight. She was beautiful!
"You know the way we came," I stated as I checked the
ankle straps on her four inch high heels. "Just walk back
that way. I'll be waiting for you somewhere between here and
the highway." A whine of protest. "I know that's about ten
miles, but I won't be right at the highway so you'll only
have to walk something less than that."
A noise that sounded as if she might be trying to say,
"I can't see."
"Turn your head to the side," I commanded. She knew
better than to refuse. When she turned her head she could
see to her side, not downward but straight out as the rope
and hair held her head very limited in its motion. I knew
that she would be able to follow the road. It wouldn't be
easy with her head bound like that but it would be possible.
And she knew it.
There was nothing more to say so I got in the car. I
drove slowly for a few yards then stopped to look back.
Laura was turned sideways to me, her whole body shaking
slightly, whether from anger, frustration or laughter I did
not know. I watched her first tentative steps on a road that
treacherously alternated between hard earth and soft sand.
As I drove away I was sure glad that I was a man and not
subject to such ordeals. Leave the torment to submissive
women like Laura, they love and deserve it.
I waited about half a mile away, the distance I figured
would take her about an hour to walk. If she didn't fall
down too often. I wondered how she would be able to get up
with her arms gone and head pulled so cruelly back. And
with those ridiculously high heels. I figured to wait two or
three hours then go back and pick her up if she didn't make
it by then. I'd probably find her laying on the road unable
to get back to her feet.
It was hot and miserable. Even the water I had brought
was hot as I drank it. Nothing moved in that harsh
landscape, there was little sound beyond some kind of bird
off to the left. I never did see the bird. It was so hot
the lizards and snakes were hiding under rocks. Sensible
creatures.
Laura was walking straight ahead when she came around
the turn. I watched her walk a dozen steps then turn to see
what she could of the road before walking another dozen
steps. As she got close I could see dirt sticking to her
sweaty body and knew she had fallen. When she saw the car
she made the mistake of trying to run. I watched amused as
she lay in the sand a dozen feet from me. It was delightful
to watch her struggles as she sought to regain her feet. She
walked the last few feet slowly and planted her legs wide
spread when she was only an arm's length away. She was
breathing hard and I could have watched those magnificent
breasts rise and fall forever. Needless to say all the ropes
were still on and tightly in place. Her body language, what
there was of it to see in such bondage, spoke of defiance.
She had met and conquered the challenge and demanded that I
recognize her triumph.
Well, I did. Dropping my fly, I exposed a rod large
enough and rigid enough to satisfy a herd of cheerleaders.
Too bad Laura couldn't see it with her head pulled back. But
I took her and roughly pushed her down to the patch of sand
where the shadow of the car had cooled it down a bit. Laura
knew me, knew what was coming, and wanted it as bad as I did.
When I lowered her to her back she arched her body up until
she was on her head and shoulders and her feet. Her pussy
was arched up most invitingly and her legs spread wide as her
high heels dug into the sand until her feet almost
disappeared. She was making pitiful little moaning sounds
behind the ball gag.
It was a beautiful sight, a masterpiece of submission
that would bring an erection to any male. I considered
leaving her like that, pleading for the sexual satisfaction
she hungered for, just to tease her, a form of torture I had
often inflicted upon this and other helpless girls. But,
well, what the hell, the girl did deserve some reward.
Besides, my prick ached so much it hurt. I pulled apart the
crotch ropes so they no longer covered that wonderful love
tunnel and rammed home that female-pleasing tool.
It was short but brutal. I don't know which of us was
more vigorous in our thrustings and don't really care. I
remember locking my arms around her hips and ramming for all
I was worth. It wasn't long before we both exploded into
giant fireworks. I think both of us cried out.
I came back to my senses laying in the hot sand beside a
beautiful package of woman flesh and ropes. Her legs were
wide spread and the body no longer arched but laying on her
bound arms. Her eyes were closed. I though I could see a
satisfied smile but that's hard to tell with her mouth filled
with rubber ball. In slow motion I crawled between her legs
and pulled the crotch ropes back into place on either side of
her clit and watched the vagina lips close over the cotton
clothesline. Then I helped her to her feet. She was swaying
slightly and kept her eyes closed. Zipping up my fly with
one hand, I patted her bottom with the other and told her I'd
be waiting another mile down the road and that I figured we
could do this for maybe eight miles before we'd be too close
to the highway.
Laura moaned deliciously and began walking.
The End
The Date
An excerpt from "The Adventures of a Bondage Lover"
by Sharon Bonner as told to John Savage
One of the most unusual dates I ever went on was not
even my date but Monique's, my roommate. At that time I was
twenty-one and sharing an apartment with another girl named
Monique. We had discovered pretty fast that we both had a
very deep love of bondage. This meant that we both spent a
fair amount of time in some form of restraint around the
apartment. We were both basically submissive in that we both
preferred to be the one tied up rather than doing the tying
but were willing to do the binding chores because it meant
that next time we would be tied by the other. And like there
were some pretty fancy ways that we tied each other up. We
tried to outdo each other in dreaming up fantastic bondage
games to do to each other.
Well, this one weekend Monique told me that she had a
new bondage position she wanted to try on me and I, being the
biggest sucker ever born, said sure. We went into the
bedroom. At Monique's suggestion I shed my clothes, not a
long operation as we rarely wore much around the apartment.
In fact, it wasn't uncommon for both of us to be walking
around naked. We were both good looking girls and had very
nice bodies and enjoyed looking at each other. Well, we
enjoyed other things with each other besides looking but
that's private.
Monique began by tying my wrists together behind me,
palm to palm. Then she tied the elbows so that they touched.
It's lucky that my elbows can easily touch behind my back
because I get them tied that way so often. Oh, it does get
to hurting after a few hours but I can (and have) been tied
with them crushed together for six hours or more. With my
arms well tied with clothesline behind my back, Monique
brought out one of the ball gags and stuffed it inside my
mouth. Those things aren't too comfortable and taste
terrible but they sure do keep a girl quiet. With the ball
strapped tightly and deeply in my mouth I can say nothing and
make very little in the way of noise, but Monique didn't seem
to think that was enough. She placed wide white tape over my
mouth, crossing it in an X shape and plastering the whole
lower half of my face. Then she wrapped an elastic bandage
around the bottom half of my face very tightly. The effect
was to keep sound inside my mouth and there was nothing I
could do about it.
I was then set down on the edge of a chair and my legs
tied. She used our favorite cotton clothesline to bind my
ankles together and my legs just above and below the knees.
She helped me to my feet and stood back to survey her
handiwork. There was nothing too unusual about the way I was
tied, we had both been tied that way many times. Of course
the gag was a little bit more severe than usual but the
bondage was normal.
Then came the unusual part. She slide back the closet
door and pointed to the end wall. The clothes and shoes had
been cleared away from that end and I could see a series of
metal rings that had been screwed into the wooden wall. The
intent wasn't hard to figure out. I hopped over to the
closet, my big breasts bouncing with each jump. When you've
had as much practice as I have, you can hop all around the
apartment with your legs tied. Monique positioned me with my
back against the wood. Then she began to tie my body to the
wall.
The metal rings were set in pairs, one on each side of
my naked body. Each pair was very close to my body (Monique
must have measured carefully for a good fit) and was rope
passing from one ring to the other was used to secure my body
firmly against the wall. It took a while but when she was
finished there were ropes holding my ankles to the wall.
Also above my knees, below them, my thighs, my hips, my
waist, above and below my breasts, and another at my neck.
Believe me, this girl was not going anywhere!
But there was one set of rings left and those were just
above my eye level. Monique had a cute way of keeping my
head from moving. She had a piece of leather about an inch
wide with a ring riveted into each end. She tied one end's
ring to the metal ring in the wall. Then she turned my head
so that the side was resting against the wall. The leather
strip passed over my head, the lower edge just covering the
top part of my vision. The other end was tied to the ring on
the other side by a small piece of rope. It was tight but
not uncomfortable, and it prevented me from turning my head.
I would be standing there and looking out into the bedroom
until Monique decided otherwise. And I didn't like the look
in her eyes. She kissed me, teased my breasts a bit then
announced that she was going to take a shower to get ready
for her date that night. Then she disappeared in the
direction of the bathroom.
I sighed and began to explore the limits of my bondage.
Monique tended to take long showers and I figured I was going
to be standing in this closet at least until she was ready to
walk out the door for her date. I tried to turn my head but
my first suspicion was right, the strap held my head against
the wall. I wiggled and pulled against the ropes but Monique
was entirely too good with the knots and cords. I couldn't
work at my wrists because of my arms being pressed against
the wall. I couldn't even try to work my legs back and forth
to loosen the ropes above my knees. In short, I was stuck,
plaster against the wall and one helpless girl.
For a long time, during which my horniness increased
(I just love ropes holding my body helpless), I just stood
there and experienced frustration. And there was nothing I
could do about it. There was certainly no way my fingers
could be brought around to the front where they could do
something about his sexual itch. And my breasts were out of
my touch. I could just see the nipples out of the bottom of
my vision, standing erect and rigid, betraying the inner
excitement.
Eventually Monique came back into my view, freshly wet
and naked. She took her time drying off her body right were
in front of me, pretending she didn't even know I was there,
displaying its fine curves and fun places. I'd done the same
thing to her more than once but that didn't make it any less
frustrating right then.
Then she did something that left a cold spot in the pit
of my stomach. She straightened the bed. Then she placed
two candles on the headboard. She picked up the towel and
any other loose things so the room was clean and neat. Then
she placed a length of clothesline on the headboard. She
slide the closet door closed on me. But not quite. She left
a little crack open, a crack just where my head was, a crack
that allowed me to see most of the bed. And a crack that was
small enough so that no one could really see me in the
closet, especially if the only light was from two small
candles. Her hand reached in and squeezed my right breast
affectionately. Then she was gone.
I sighed. Her diabolical plan was clear. Take one
heavy date with the ever-horny Ted, add a romantic candle lit
bedroom and a gorgeous dish like Monique who's also pretty
much always horny herself. Then add another roommate who's
completely naked and bound in the closet so thoroughly that
she can't move or make a sound. She can only stand and watch
the show.
It was about two hours before I heard the sound of the
front door. There was voices and laughing. Then there was a
silence that I was sure marked a long, passionate kiss and
the beginning of foreplay. Sure enough, there came Monique
to light the candles and turn on the stereo to very soft
music. She was followed quickly by Ted who began unziping
her dress. True to the harlot's code, she wore no bra or
panties, enabling Ted to get right down to business. Soon
his clothes were flying off and they jumped into bed,
laughing and giggling like school kids.
Ted could hardly miss the rope laying in plain sight on
the headboard. He inquired about. She lied about it. He
picked it up. She hinted that some men are man enough to
keep their girls bound up like little slavegirls. He lunged
at her. She dodged but not too far. They wrestled on the
bed, naked bodies and rope bouncing all over the place.
Monique's hands got tied behind her back. She protested with
a giggle. He grabbed a breast and ignored her mild protests.
He slid that huge male rod inside her. Her protests turned
to moans. I was dying.
Can you imagine the frustration I felt? Here I was,
already horny from two hours of being tightly bound, unable
to even touch myself, and forced -- yes, forced -- to watch
a couple do the sex act! And several times! In several
different, highly imaginative positions, one of which I would
have sworn was impossible for a girl with her hands tied
behind her back. As Monique's excitement rose to a fever
pitch, so did mine. The difference was she had a hung male
to ram it to her, I had tight ropes and nothing inside my
hot, juicy pussy. I swore by the Great Horny Toad that I
would get that girl and torture her! I would find ant hills
to tie her to, I would find four horse to draw and quarter
her, I would hang her by her thumbs until she screamed for
mercy! And then I would get mean.
Needless to say, I strained, pulled and jerked at my
bonds but they held. Tiny, pitiful moans escaped my nose to
harmonize with the loud gasps and moans of ecstasy Monique
was filling the bedroom with. Then, in perfect coordination
with her third orgasm, I hit on it! It was simple and I'm
sure Monique hadn't thought of it. And it worked. I dug my
fingernails into my ass, both hands, as hard as I could.
Then I exploded into fireworks and skyrockets.
Later, hanging limp in my dark little prison, I came
back to life. My ass was sore but, gawd, I felt good.
Monique and her boyfriend lay exhausted on the bed, her hands
still tied. For a long time we all rested. But finally I
saw his hand creep over to cup her breast and knew that the
recuperative powers of the young had worked their miracle.
Monique leaned over and kissed him. Then she told him
sweetly that there was more rope in the drawer and that
perhaps he would like to tie her legs spread ever sooooo wide
to the legs of the bed. As he dove for the rope, Monique
turned in my direction and gave me a wink. It was going to
be a long night!
The End
The Experiment
an excerpt from "Bondage Tales" by John Savage
The weather was hot outside but inside the air
conditioning blew cold air at me, making the sweat stick to
my skin. I made my way to Dr. Wayward's office and entered.
He was waiting for me with his usual silly grin. We got
right down to the experiment without delay.
I went through the inner door to the experiment lab.
In there the temperature had been set to a more reasonable
degree, neither hot nor cold. I unbuttoned my light summer
dress and peeled it off. Dr. Wayward didn't seem surprised
to see that was wearing no bra. My panties and shoes went
next, leaving me standing there, naked and smiling.
Dr. Wayward put the harness on my body, being careful
to place the wide leather strap squarely between my legs and
buckling up the cross straps tightly around my body. There
were two rings sticking up at my shoulders but otherwise
everything was buckled down nice and tight. I made sure
each strap fitted comfortably as the doctor went back to his
cabinet.
The good doctor came over carrying a piece of rope in
his hands and I knew what to do. I put my hands behind my
back with the wrists together. He wrapped the cotton
clothesline around my wrists several times then ran some
rope counter to those to cinch them down. He tied the
knots up and inside where I couldn't reach them with my
fingers. Then he fetched the leather sheath that fitted
over my arms so that they were encased in leather from the
fingertips to the armpits. Two straps went over my
shoulders and secured the sheath so there was no way it
could slide down. During the first experiment he had me
struggled as hard as I could to make sure the sheath
couldn't loosen or come down. I remember jumping around the
lab, wiggling my arms and twisting every which way to try
and get my arms free. But the leather sheath had been
designed well and I was convinced that I could never get it
off without outside help.
After the sheath came the gag. He used, as he always
did, a piece of rubber that was wedge shaped and tasted
vaguely of disinfectant. After the wedge was firmly in my
mouth he placed the strap around my head and buckled it
behind me so that it held the wedge solidly in place. My
mouth was slightly open and my tongue pressed down. I knew
from previous tests that I could utter no word, and hardly
any sound would even come out were I to try to scream. The
gag is followed by two plugs pushed into my ears that cut
off all hearing.
Dr. Wayward positioned me under the hoist and connected
the two hooks to the rings on my shoulders. Then he placed
the padded blindfold around my head so that I couldn't see
the slightest bit of light. But it was comfortable. Then I
could feel him fitting the hood over my head. It was also
made of leather and covered the entire head very snugly.
That was mainly because of the laces that ran down the back
from almost the crown of my head to my neck allowed him to
tighten it until it was molded to my features. There was a
wide, thick leather strap attached to the bottom of the hood
and that was buckled down firmly around my neck. I doubted
that I could have gotten the hood off even if I had my hands
free, which was certainly not the case.
With my head completely encased save for my nose
sticking out, and my arms locked in their leather prison, I
heard the whine of an electrical hoist and felt myself
rising into the air. When my feet were off the floor he
stopped the hoist and I swung there for a minute. Then he
returned and I felt the ropes going on my legs.
The doctor always ties my legs exactly the same way.
First there is the rope around my ankles. When that is
knotted down, there comes around some windings around my
legs just above the knees. He wraps the rope around my legs
very carefully then ever so slowly passes the rope between my
thighs and down and between my legs and back up until he has
half a dozen wrapping as cinch ropes. Then he ties the
knots.
At that point I'm pretty well tied up and not going
anywhere. But he's not finished with me. I can't hear it
but I know he's getting the large leather bag positioned
under me. Then I feel the leather being pulled up my legs.
It goes up until it is over my hips. Then it gets a little
tighter and he has to work it up a bit at a time until the
top of the bag is under my chin. I call it a bag but it is
more like a suit, custom made to fit my body. There are
laces running from half way between my ankles and knees up
to my neck. He starts at the bottom and works the laces
upward, tightening each part as he goes and working the
slack out completely. By the time he ties the knots under
my chin I am covered totally with another skin of leather.
Even my arms, already covered in leather and securd by rope,
are included under this suit.
One might think that this would be enough. But the
doctor wants complete immobility and he gets it. First
there are straps that go around my ankles and buckle tight.
Then around my knees and thighs and waist (pining my arms
tightly against my body) and around my body just under my
somewhat overgrown breasts. But that's not all. I feel
myself move upward and know that the doctor is ready for the
last part of the equipment. When I'm about three feet off
the floor he stops me. For a minute there is no sound or
feeling. I know he's out there moving around and I can
picture him getting the last piece of rope and kneeling down
under my legs. Then I feel some fumbling at my feet and a
second later my feet are pulled down.
The doctor has shown me pictures of myself completely
done up in the experiment equipment. There is a ring at the
bottom of the body suit, right at my toes, and he has tied a
rope to that ring. There is another ring bolted to the
floor right under me and he has tied the rope to that ring.
He pulls it taunt enough to stretch my entire body out a bit
but not to be painful. The purpose of that rope is to keep
me from moving. Suspended in mid-air as I am, I can feel
very little. I have no floor under my feet, no bed under my
body as I lay on it. I am suspended by a harness
arrangement that is very comfortable and there is the
feeling of floating in air. As time goes by it will grow
until I completely loose all feeling of the ropes, straps
and leather around my body. Maybe the tightness of the
equipment has something to do with that, I don't know.
I feel his hands running over my body, checking the
buckles and tightness everywhere, adjusting here or there a
bit to assure that nothing is loose, least of all me. Then
he pats me on the bottom and I feel nothing.
Dr. Wayward has told me that he usually waits a minute
or two to make sure everything is properly set up then he
leaves the lab. He knows that it will take me several hours
to reach a proper state and there is nothing he can do until
then so he goes to his lunch or reads a book in his office.
I, on the other hand, can read no book, eat nothing (unless
you count hard rubber -- I don't), and am not going
anywhere.
What do I feel? I feel very comfortable. My whole
body is warm and snugly wrapped in a leather cocoon. I am
at peace and feel very relaxed. it is nice. I don't have
to think, do anything or say anything. I wait patiently for
ten minutes to pass (counting to make sure it's been that
long). Then I go into what I call the fun part.
When the experiments first started, I used to try and
relax all the time while in the equipment. But the third
time I got an itch in the nipple of my left breast and it
began to drive me crazy. I tried twisting my shoulders back
and forth, hoping that the leather suit would rub the itch.
No chance! It was too tight. Then I struggled, just a bit
at first but growing into harder and more serious jerkings
of my body and limbs, trying anyway I could to stop that
maddening itch in my breast. I guess some place along the
line I lost the itch but I don't remember when because after
a few minutes of struggling against such complete and
hopeless restrictions, I became aware of a warmth generating
from my sex and spreading outward. It was a real good
feeling, an excitement that is wonderful to feel. I was
getting sexually turned on! And it was happening very fast
and hard. I soon forget about the itch as I continued my
struggles in hopes that the wonderful glow in my pussy would
blossom into full orgasm. Well, it is boring in that
equipment, after all.
Since most of my weight was on a wide and thick strap
that passed right between my legs, there was something
pressing my sex. With some violent attempts at struggles I
was able to shift the pressure of that strap so that it felt
soooo good on my pussy. Before I knew it there were
skyrockets exploding in my head and my pussy was on fire and
I felt wonderful!
That was the first time. Every time since I waited
until the doctor left and then I began to fight the ropes
and straps holding me. I even try to scream my head off, it
helps make me feel more helpless. It doesn't take too long
before I'm arching my body within my bonds and trembling as
orgasm after wonderful orgasm explodes within me. I figure
I get in three or four orgasm before I'm tired enough to
just hang limp in the darkness. Since the doctor's never
said a thing about it, I'm sure he's gone to his lunch or
whatever he does all the time I'm getting high on the most
mind-blowing climaxes I've ever felt. Hell, probably that
any girl's ever felt.
Each experiment lasts four or five hours. Dr. Wayward
has been talking about trying some longer experiments,
perhaps eight hours at a time and I've told him that was
fine with me. When the time is up and he lets me down I
tell him the results.
Funny thing is that we've been trying to use this
sensory depravation experiment to induce telepathic abilities
for almost two years now and haven't had a single positive
result! But the doctor is sure it is the right method and I
don't disagree with him. After all, he's the doctor!
The End
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