Strictest Bondage, The

John Savage

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 --