Please! Lori begged John again, he just shook his head no as she sat struggling in the chair tie she had been placed in after she had begged him to tie her arms tightly together behind her back. This he did gladly and proficiently quickly wrapping several loops around her elbows using each loop to draw them tighter together. Once her elbows were crushed together he added three more wide bands of tight rope on her arms and wrists. ...

Part 1 Kelly and I had done all the preparations for the open house the signs had all been placed and we are open for business. We picked this house for its long driveway and tree line blocking the view of the attached garage which our van was conveniently backed up to the doors of. I walked into the kitchen to find Kelly setting out cookies and Coco as it was a cool day in Arizona. Kelly fully looked the part in her black dress, black stockings, black 6" closed toed platforms, and her black leather gloves. Kelly’s long blonde wig perfectly hid her long dark hair I love so much. She also wore several other false items to throw people off. Me black suit, black wig,black mustache. We quickly before anyone arrived went over the plan, we need 3 choice pieces of ass for our first Internet auction to our overseas friends. We need to be on the same page do as we practiced and get the hell out of here fast before the real realtor comes by. Kelly will show the guest around and open doors etc as she has the gloves on and we don’t want to leave fingerprints. ...

Angie lay in her favorite position thinking about the conversation with Jim she had yesterday, as she pants around the large ball gag she had strapped tightly between her teeth. Angie tries to look around even though she was wearing the rubber blindfold and smiling as she tugged at the rope connecting her wrists to her ankles wondering how long she has before the cutters will drop nearby. She couldn’t help but still feel slightly embarrassed at the admission of her favorite bondage position or the fact that she had told him so freely and so quickly after meeting him. ...

Jane walked to the bus stop her high heels clicking on the pavement the snug pencil skirt limiting her steps slightly. Jane thought maybe she should taper the skirt more missing the restriction of her other skirts, under the skirt and loose top she can feel the steel covering her breasts and pussy shifting and smiles to herself. Jane had been intrigued by chastity belts since first seeing one in a movie when she was young even making herself one out of her dads duct tape and wearing it all day until needing to go to the bathroom and having to cut it off. During high school she had found several on the internet and dreamed about wearing one but was never able to afford them. During her junior year she had found a used belt and even though the thought of it being worn by someone else made her uncomfortable she decided to buy it and clean it very well before trying it on. ...

Madison had been into bondage her whole adult life, her entire body had been sculpted by the things she forced it into. The tiny waist she had was due to her passion for corsets, she had not been without one since she was eighteen, wow, eighteen she thought just over ten years ago and look at me know. Madison stood looking at the body that had gotten her everything she had ever wanted enjoying herself as she stroked her muscular legs admiring the tall heels she always wore locked on and how they forced her legs and ass to look so good. The corset she currently wore hadn’t been removed in six months and kept her waist at a svelte sixteen inches with its half cups supporting her large breasts that had been kept firm and perfectly shaped by the “bras” she was never without. ...

Sally sat on a stool at the island of her kitchen, and contemplated her fate. She had promised husband Scott that he would find her in a bondage predicament when he came home from work tonight, and she had several ideas. It was now 4:30 PM, and Scott would be home around 6:00 PM, so Sally needed to make up her mind and get busy. She had been considering several scenarios all day, and as she put down her coffee cup, she decided she needed a session on the rack tonight. ...

Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post. https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312 Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor. No customers detected Restocking and purchase orders complete Preparing end of day reports Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black. Power failure. “Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.” Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness. “Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said. A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure. “My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said. “We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said. The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask. “You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said. “There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said. “Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said. “Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.” Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed. “How much time do we have?” “45 minutes before the power comes back on.” The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store. Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back. He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery. After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now. The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode. Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle. In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine. Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space. An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke. Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck. She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier. More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick. Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it. The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow. Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down. “You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.” He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free. “Is this one of those initiations?” He said. “I got robbed.” Carrie said. “Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said. “Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.

Note: This very short story was inspired by the Dec. 6, 2016 New York Post. https://twitter.com/nypost/status/806114238594957312 Carrie is preparing to close the store for the night, well, she is watching the store’s automated systems preparing to close the store. After the last upgrade Carrie wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been fired, the system never has a major failure, it fixes its own minor issues. The supermarket cleans itself, stocks itself and opens and closes itself and answers customer questions by smart phone text all by itself. Her job has been reduced to watching the monitor. No customers detected Restocking and purchase orders complete Preparing end of day reports Carrie logs off the system before the diagnostic reboot, she is supposed to stay until the system comes back up and starts overnight cleaning operations but twenty minutes of pay isn’t worth hanging around for that. Carrie is grabbing her things when the whole place goes pitch black. Power failure. “Why aren’t the emergency lights on?” Carrie said as if the system was going to respond. Her knee slams into a server rack. “Owww, don’t worry about me, stupid piece of junk.” Carrie finds the door and feels her way out of the office. She sees lights, thank goodness. “Hey, over here, help.” Carrie said. A figure approaches. The light strapped to his forehead makes him look like a shadow, but from his size Carrie can tell it’s a man. He grabs her, dragging her further into the dark store and toward the second figure. “My shift is over, you don’t need me to work on the system.” Carrie said. “We’re not fixing the place, we’re robbing the place.” The man holding Carrie said. The second man turns his light on Carrie and the man behind her, she can see he is wearing a ski mask. “You know there’s no money here, right?” Carrie said. “There’s no money anywhere since automation, we’re forced to steal stuff.” He said. “Well you don’t need me for that either.” Carrie said. “Sorry Honey, but you’re staying right here.” Carrie’s wrists are pulled behind her back and secured with plastic cuffs. Several strips of tape are pressed over her mouth and she is lowered to the floor, her ankles are cuffed. “How much time do we have?” “45 minutes before the power comes back on.” The two men get to work rifling through shelves and filling plastic boxes on a push cart, and they’re not being neat about it, spilling food and trampling on containers all over the store. Carrie tries to worm her way out of the bakery aisle toward the entrance and maybe get someone’s attention, but only manages to cover herself in flour, molasses and whatever else is on the floor before one of the men comes back. He sees Carrie’s attempted escape, folds her legs and uses a cable tie to hogtie her, then tells her they’re off. Now she can only wait for the power to come back and the system to report the robbery. After some time Carrie hears the snap of a breaker and the low hum of the computers powering up. It won’t be long now. The system lost power at the start of the diagnostic routine and now displays a message on the terminal. This is where Carrie would recover full function of the system, if she were at the terminal and logged on. The system waits the preprogramed three minutes for input then sends a text to Carrie’s phone to respond to a system failure and initiates post-closing operation in safe mode. Low level lighting comes on, just enough for sensors to scan the store and assess the cleanup required. The job begins by deploying the Spider, Self-Propelled Debris Remover. It looks more like a Hippo with its square shape and large maw. Traveling up and down the aisles, it uses its two arms to sweep trash into the front intake, depositing full trash bags out the back at the end of each aisle. In the bakery aisle Carrie sees the machine coming but can’t get out of the way. The end of the arm moves past her then folds at the center like an elbow catching Carrie in the side and pushing her toward the intake where she is swallowed whole by the machine. Inside she is swept into a large plastic bag as more trash is heaped on top of her. When full her bag is tied and ejected from the back of the machine. Soon the aisles are clear of trash and black plastic trash bags form a row along the dairy and meat section. Carrie struggles but the tight hogtie, sticky contents and the heavy plastic bag itself prevent much movement. She concentrates on creating breathing space. An overhead trolley system collects the bags so floor scrubbers can be deployed. Carrie feels herself being lifted as her bag moves through the delivery room then drops into the dumpster outside. She knows she is in trouble and can’t understand why the police haven’t arrived. AI, that’s a joke. Suddenly a loud bang and rumble echoes through the dumpster. Of course the truck is here. The sound of hydraulic pistons and the dumpster is lifted. Carrie feels her weight shifting, then she is falling into the back of a refuse truck. She hears the dumpster hit the pavement, then the sound of hydraulics again as the driver compacts the load. Carrie is pushed around as the flour, sugar and other bakery debris in her bag is pressed into her. She wills the compactor to stop as it continues to press her into the trash. Her bag pops just as the piston stops and reverses. At least she can breathe easier. More trash is added at each stop with the driver cycling the compactor every three or four loads. Fortunately they have all been at restaurants, though Carrie doesn’t feel very fortunate, she is pinned in a wall of plastic bags and smells fried chicken, fried beans and fried fish. She fights to not be sick. Hydraulic pumps start and Carrie panics, she can’t take another compacting. This time the whole wall moves as the trash is ejected from the truck. Carrie falls from the back and tumbles down a mountain of bags and waste being tossed from her plastic prison in the process. Her hair is plastered with grease and food and she lost a shoe, but she lived through it. The trucks have gone, only the sound of seagulls circling looking for a meal. Carrie can move a little, but getting back up that mountain of trash will be impossible. If she stays here she will surely be buried in trash tomorrow. Carrie hears a faint sound, like someone crumpling plastic wrap in their hand. It’s getting louder. Footsteps. An old man bends down. “You’re a girl, imagine that, I though these old eyes were fooling me again.” He studies the situation then takes out a small pocket knife and cuts the hog tie and wrist cuffs. Carrie sits up and pulls the tape from her mouth, he hands her the knife to cut her ankles free. “Is this one of those initiations?” He said. “I got robbed.” Carrie said. “Didn’t we all, I’ll be happy to share my wealth if you want to look around.” He said. “Thanks, I’ll just look for my shoe.” Carrie said.

Part 1 So getting out of work on a Friday and the wife says she’ll be late and wants to stay in. I say to myself, “hmm, I’ve got all this time, maybe I’ll dress up a bit”. I walk to my vehicle with the beginnings of quite a hard on, glad no one else was in the lot. As I drive home I text my wife to make sure she didn’t have plans and told her mine. She replies “Sounds fun. I’ll join you when I get home.” She says “We have a pretty lazy weekend, impress me.” I nearly came there, but figured I’d save it. ...

story continued from part 14 Chapter 15: Cassandra Takes Beth Cassandra sat in front of the dressing table in her bedroom, wearing nothing but a dressing gown! After her first session as a Dominant, she had rushed back to her bedroom and taken quick shower to remove the sweat she had produced while whipping Beth! She knew that Beth was now being prepared by Kate for her night’s pleasure! Mistress Allison had complimented her for the way she had whipped Beth, delivering the right amount of strokes, and varying their intensity! ...

story continued from part 15 Chapter 16: The Bonds of Money It was the third week in a row that Beth had gone to lunch with her friend Valerie Newman. Cassandra had helped her dress, and had watched her leave the Mansion, leaving her alone for the day with Mistress Allison and Kate. Once Beth had left the Mansion, and Cassandra had watched her BMW leave on the long driveway towards the electronically controlled gate; did Cassandra finally summon the courage to see Mistress Allison. ...

story continued from part 16 Chapter 17: The Bondage Evaluation When Cassandra was finally able to tear herself away from seeing how the Black PVC Catsuit hugged every curve of her body, Kate escorted her down to the Library where Mistress Allison was waiting! After knocking and gaining entrance, she found that both Beth and Valerie were now naked, collared, and wearing nothing but bondage bracelets and high heels. They were both kneeling in front of Mistress Allison’s Library desk. ...

story continued from part 17 Chapter 18: Winning The Lottery The next day, after Cassandra had released Valerie, it was her turn to bathe and prepare her guest. Valerie was soon wearing the “O” dress just like Beth, and the two women would spend the day together. Cassandra again wore her Maid’s uniform, but Mistress Allison did not lock the collar around her neck. She wondered why, but did not ask. Mistress Allison did not do anything without a reason, so she knew that whatever the cause, she would discover it later. ...

story continued from part 18 Chapter 19: Epilogue Valerie Newman lay on her belly, bound to the leather footstool in the Library. The day before, while wearing a Latex Maid’s uniform, she had cleaned and oiled the Black Leather piece of furniture. Now she was naked, her limbs tied to the footstool with rope, and cinched tightly! There would be no escape until she was released, and that would not happen before Cassandra had her way with her! ...

Cheryl had spend the last 5 days at Download festival in Derbyshire UK. She had been drinking heavily throughout and had driven her friends mad. She woke up on the Monday morning with a massive hangover and all by her self. She had been left by herself as her friends had had enough of her. She crawled out her tent in just her pants and bra as a feeling of shame and disappointment filled her up. She had damaged most of her stuff over the weekend as she rocked out. She had nothing she needed to take home. Her tent was ripped and water logged and all her stuff was covered in mud. She was sick, tried and all by herself. She would just bring back what she could. She was looking through the ruins of her tent and found almost nothing worth saving. Just some clothes to wear on the way home and the main things she took with her. Like her phone, money and house keys. But she left 99% of the stuff there. Someone would clean it up for her as she headed towards the car parking. ...

Carla knew transferring to a new school midway through the semester would be difficult to say the least. Friends have been made, relationships formed and she would be the outsider invading the sanctity of the foundations these bonds had been built. Not because it was her nature to subvert friendships and couplings; she preferred to remain at arm’s length from others and avoid the drama so many people her age seemed so eager to engage. It was her sheer attractiveness which always seemed to foster upheaval. At the university she had previously been attending and subsequently transferred from; Carla had been accepted, if not entirely liked. Her ‘stand-offish’ disposition was often confused with snobbery and mightier-than-thou beliefs and misgivings. Carla was the furthest thing from being self-centered and conceited however. She simply believed that college was a place to gain an education and not for one big social gathering. It had been one of these latter which made her take her transcripts to a new school. She had invested too much and came too far to simply drop out. As with almost every misfortunate situation, a number of seemingly unrelated commons converge to make an uncommon. An airplane doesn’t crash because it ran out of fuel; it crashes due to fuel no longer burning. Either a mechanical problem or a human factor or a mixture of the two would be the cause, not a matter of the tanks instantly becoming dry. A leak in the fuel lines, a miscalculation of refueling, frozen ice crystals trapping the fuel behind them at some bottle-neck; but not because the fuel simply decided to go on Hyades. As the aircraft gets starved of fuel due to progression of failures, Carla’s rape was a coalescence of unrelated events with vector lines placing her at the point of intersection. The fact that there was a party going on in the dorm was not the cause. The fact that Vic was drunk wasn’t either. Nor was her room’s door not being fully latched or her lying in her bed studying wearing only her panties to blame. Carla was violated because Vic went to the party, got shit-faced and stumbled down the hall, bumping into her unlatched door, falling into her room causing her to jump and gasp, gaining his attention and noticed her scantily clad body in front of a soft mattress; putting the idea that he was horny in his mind. Had any one of the events in the progression not happened Carla would still be still be a virgin, her sanctity intact, and enrolled in the university she wished to attend. To top it off and seal her decision to transfer, Carla was blamed for the football team losing its star quarterback… be-damned that he had violated her. “Shit happens!” Vic’s girlfriend told Carla, blaming her for her boyfriend’s arrest. “New school… same bullshit.” Carla muddled to herself when her latest single-sided foe flipped her off and yelled; “Fuck you slut! Leave my guy alone cunt!” ‘Single-sided’ because Carla neither liked nor dislike Cheryl; and, as for her guy, Carla had never even said ‘Hi’ to him. Zach, had however, spoke to Carla—in the form of a cat-called “Hey baby!” as Cheryl scowled at her as if she made him or provoked him into doing it. The seeds of providence had been sown, fertilized, and watered thoroughly; merely awaiting to take root and breach the soil. The final evolutionary alignment came as Carla walk from work towards her dorm across a dark, unlit lawn; she being alone, Cheryl not. The attack was sudden, quick, and brutal. One of the girls shoved a rag into Carla’s mouth and wrapped several turns of duct tape around her head to hold it in place. At the same time, another was looping her wrists behind her back with rough, abrasive rope. Yet a third attacked her legs and bound her ankles tightly. Carla was forced into a sitting position and more rope was used around her arms and chest, pinning her arms to her sides and bracketing her breasts above and below; the ends tied between her tits. Another strand cinched tightly around her lower belly and between her legs and around the hemp-rope belt at the small of her back. The loose ends of the crotch-rope knotted around her wrist bindings holding her hands pinned at the top of her ass. Carla’s legs were lashed above and below her knees; her legs pulled high behind her and tied by the ends of rope from between her breasts, over her shoulders and under the breast ropes just under her scapulas. Carla had been trussed into a tight hogtie complete with an equally tight crotchrope forcing the denim crotch of her jeans deep into her cleave and a rope binding around her chest tight enough to make breathing difficult and her tits hurt. “Don’t litter… put trash in its place.” One of her attackers said as they heft her and swept Carla away. The large blue-painted steel dumpster they chose to put Carla in served a day-care facility which catered to college-enrolled mothers. “Baby’s should smell like babies.” Cheryl said as Carla was rolled from the metal lip and into a soft, but smelly, bed of shit and piss soiled diapers. Her fall broke several liners open, exposing her to the liberated and foul disposables. Struggling for her freedom only sunk Carla deeper into them. Sometime later; being no closer to gaining her freedom than she had only minutes after being bound; Carla heard the engine of the disposal truck close in on her, the dumpster bumped and lifted; spilling her and the shit-encrusted, piss-soaked discards in with bags of household waste. Just before the huge Caterpillar D-9 covered her limp and seemingly lifeless body, the operator seen her and checked Carla for signs of life. Carla was rushed to the Hospital and not the County Morgue. ElectroPainLover

Sal hated Christmas. Not because he was a Scrooge, and he really liked to help others and always put his change in the kettle. What Sal hated was the days after the holiday. Sal worked on a garbage truck. And for a solid week afterwards, the streets would be lined with bins and bags, piles full of trash. The wrappings, paper and boxes were no problem even if they should have been set out next week to be recycled. No, it was all the old toys and furniture and kitchenware that had been replaced by gifts. It was all kept so the new things would be a surprise. And out it all went starting the day after Christmas. ...

(story continues from Indecent Proposal) Part Two “So Mike dear…” I asked my husband while we were settled down on the couch watching some mindless television show, “..what made you choose such ’nice’ clothes for me to model for you?” “I like the way you look in them?” my blindsided husband responded without conviction. “Then why haven’t you ever suggested something like them before? You used to seem to like me to dress more conservatively, most especially around Jack, which I thought I understood until just the other day.” ...

Part 2: Marissa’s Story Author’s Note: This story, “Precious Marissa: Marissa” is penned as a stand-alone story and as a companion story for “Precious Marissa”. As the original was written from Kevin’s point-of-view, this version relates the story from Marissa’s point-of-view. Having two stories tell the same tale but from separate sets of eyes may be a style I incorporate more if people let me know that the writing style is interesting. I know I write long stories and sometimes fill them with more background and detail than some of you readers prefer, but, I am too detail-oriented of an individual to fully pull away from my character development. I feel that this style will allow me to create stories which are complete on their own or can be enjoyed as a collective to fully grasp each character being their own protagonist. Only you, the reader, can let me know if you enjoy the style…so…please do. Thank you. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Gloria has a different interpretation of The Forbidden Book What would you do if you knew that a book that everyone else thought was mindless pornography was actually a communications handbook? If you ain’t a Sci-Fi Geek, you ain’t going to like this one. Mild erotica, but very interesting Sci-Fi concept. ...