Belt on Gromet's Plaza Archive

Committed

Sat, 03 May 2025 00:00:00 +0000

“…So this building was built in 1887. Originally, it was a sanatorium, although ‘sanatorium’ might be a little euphemistic; it was, in fact, an institution where affluent families sent family members suffering from ‘psychoses’ to ‘recuperate’ outside of the public eye. The intentions were laudable – comparatively – but in terms of modern standards the level of care provided was… well, a tad barbaric perhaps. Not long after the turn of the century, the sanatorium went bankrupt and the building was abandoned…

The Chateau

Sat, 24 Feb 2024 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 9 – Slut Walk

I could tell Maggie wanted to walk out there and help Heather on her ‘Slut walk’. She still thought of Heather as her friend.

“Maggie, if you want to coach her,” I suggested, “then make her start just walking, again and again, until her legs learn the right distance step. Then she can go a little faster and increase the speed more each trip. But DON’T time her. She has to guess when she’s fast enough and ask me to time her. There is a penalty if she thinks she can do it and then fails.”

Chain

Sat, 15 Apr 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 31: Farm, Break the Girl

Fred went looking in George’s old tools. He found what he was looking for, a large carpenter’s hammer and four very large nails. He laid these at the base of one of the barn’s support posts then walked back to the house. Fred again gathered things in a plastic grocery bag. He picked up the four pieces of rope they had used yesterday from the kitchen counter. He also grabbed four of the empty water bottles from yesterday and refilled them from the sink. Gran was running out of water bottles in the refrigerator and Fred was feeling guilty about how much of their stuff he was using anyway.

Indecent Proposal, Two For One

Mon, 27 Feb 2023 00:00:00 +0000

…Not having to be told twice, Jack plunges back into my squishy self, sinking deep as we stare just as deeply into each other’s eyes, that savoring “I can’t actually believe you’re letting me do this” look clear in his expression. I can’t explain this rationally, but this is the one, I just somehow know it; this is the specific time that Jack’s seeds will take root. His face reads pure ecstasy as he lets go, and I don’t think this is just a physical thing alone. He maybe knows it too, knows that we’re just about to start our own little unique family unit together, and his expression tells me he’s fine with this, long term consequences and all.

Chain

Wed, 22 Feb 2023 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 24: Farm, Clair’s Chain

One afternoon, on one of Clair’s regular Facetime calls with Gran, Mr. Franklin answered the phone. Clair thought: “I’m really going to have to start calling him Leon, since he’s sleeping with my Gran.”

“Oh, hello Clair, Lou can’t come to the phone right now, she’s uh, tied up.” Leon said.

“You mean Chained up, don’t you?” Clair giggled.

“Well, I might as well admit it, since she’s going to be there a while.” Leon replied, “Do you want me to take her the phone?”

Tired and Spent

Tue, 28 Dec 2021 00:00:00 +0000

…It was nothing but a Sunday morning summer hike, or at least that’s the way we had planned it. We like to get out together, away from cell phone signals, and the hustle and bustle of everyday life. These little day hikes are almost like therapy for a married couple like us, and I truly like spending time with my husband, he’s a great guy, very giving. He generally likes to be the one doing the giving, but every now and then he surprises me, reminding me that there are two of him inside that one body, just like there are inside myself.

Our Game

Mon, 18 Oct 2021 00:00:00 +0000

Spouse’s Version

Just like Techster, I have my spousal responses to times when Techster is stressed out.

Recently he experienced the worst thing a man can live through: he was the victim of a state budget cut and lost his upper level management job of nine years as Project Director of a state agency.

If you knew Techster you would be proud of the way he bounced back. He gathered his reference books, loaded his van and in twelve hours had a job as an engineering consultant. His new job was a ‘Mc-Job’, if you know what I mean. Although it paid well by the hour, it was lacking any benefits whatsoever.

Sharon's Outcall

Sat, 12 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000

It had been in the cavernous file room that Sharon Michaels had made her great discovery. She had gone into the large room, with its dim lighting and dusty racks to locate an old company sales contract. Sharon had entered the room silently, walking on flats, rather than the high heels that she normally wore to work. That way, she didn’t make any noise while walking, which her high heels would have done.

Timelooper

Sat, 12 Sep 2020 00:00:00 +0000

CHAPTER ONE - The Marsden Mansion

David DeAngelo walked slowly into the elaborately-restored ballroom of the Marsden Mansion. Doctor Victor Marsden was very rich and more than a little eccentric– though some people would use the word kinky rather than eccentric. Rumors of his parties had swirled around the small town of Pattersonville for the sixty years he had owned Marsden Mansion, once called the Patterson Estate.

The Pattersons founded a town around their mill in the late 1800’s and named it after themselves. They soon became immensely wealthy. The second generation built a huge country estate back in the 1920s. The roaring twenties were an era when rich people showed off their money. It was also an era built on inflated property and stock values. The Pattersons went bust in the crash of ‘29 and the estate fell into ruin.

Playing Chauffer

Tue, 24 Dec 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Continued from part 7

“…A maid?” I thought, while trying not to crack a smile with the imagery such a concept suggested. I was reminded of an earlier suggestion Jim had offered as to borrowing Jack the maid just before our first alone date. No details had been offered during that phone call, just the seeds planted in my mind’s eye with a playful suggestion that amused me, and the possibility of a compromising photograph while properly turned out in a feminizing maid’s uniform for the task. Such a picture obviously had many purposes, but the greatest of which surely had to be continued incentive to submissively behave lest such a picture be used as blackmail by either of us.

Exhausting

Sat, 23 Feb 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Julie stared at herself in the long mirror studying her long toned legs, flat stomach and perky breasts, the tight spandex that had become her signature look shining in the light. The spandex had originally been worn for her workouts but as they became more frequent she began to wear the tight material more often. Julie loved the tight shiny material and the way it hugged her body eventually wearing layers of it to add to the restrictions during her workouts and during her normal activities during the day. The thin blonde had started to mix her two favorite pastimes bondage and working out adding thick bungee cords between her cuffed wrists and ankles. Julie had also taken her weight support belt attaching chords to it then attaching them to her ankles and wrists forcing her body to fight the resistance of them to increase her work outs.

Playing Chauffer 7: New Deal

Sat, 10 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from part 6)

Part 7: New Deal

“I don’t know how much ‘more’ there is right now” my barbarian sheepishly confessed with a relieved smile once he realized he and I were on the same proverbial page, and that instead of going too far, he hadn’t gone far enough… yet.

I for my own part felt guilty for even asking, what man of almost forty could wow a younger woman two days in a row with such a rip my clothes off kind of passion, and still be up for more immediately afterwards? Men needed to recharge, like a battery, where I could do this until I was too sore to go on, and then perhaps even a little longer if the lust were high enough. Jim had shown me this side of myself, or perhaps he had just reminded me of it’s existence, but in either case I found myself becoming a very sexual being, and selfishly I wanted more.

Playing Chauffer 6: Meeting The Barbarian

Sun, 20 May 2018 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from part 5)

Part 6: Meeting The Barbarian

“No, not at all” I answered, the irony of having both my self enslaved husband’s manhood and a key that unlocked it forever sealed in a transparent glass like material not lost on me in the slightest.

…I was now convinced that there was most certainly a second key hidden about someplace anyway, my husband Jack failing his own trust test miserably because of it’s hidden existence, and THAT I had decided would be his last mistake with me. One way or the other that key would be found, I told myself while suppressing my rage at the depth of his deception, and then this faux play chastity game of his would become something very real, and then the clock on his enforced servitude would start for real from that date of discovery…

Pranked by my Boyfriend

Sat, 28 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Trashgirl spent many a day dreaming of being dominated, her boyfriend Paul was only acutely aware of some of her darker desires. Although they had a very active sex life there was always something missing for trashgirl. She had became aware of trash play via gromet’s website and was more than an avid visitor.

She had read every story at least ten times concentrating on the bondage and disposal of many beautiful women. Many a night she had sneaked out of bed and away to the toilet, Paul slept peacefully as she pleasured herself quietly thinking of those strong black trash bags she had hidden away under the sink.

Spanked in Leotards

Thu, 12 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000

I was nineteen years old and had been experimenting with my sister’s leotards and tights for several years now. I remember when I first tried on her long sleeve black leotard and the matching black tights. I loved the way my cock made a nice big bulge in the front of the leotards. I ran my hand over the bulge and my cock instantly began to stiffen and grow. I pulled the leotard leg opening to the side and pulled the tights down far enough to bring my cock out of the opening. I began to jerk off furiously and shot a huge load of hot cum all over the leotards and tights. I repeated this ritual many times until I became accustomed to wearing the leotard and tights without the immediate need to stroke my cock.

His Trip

Mon, 14 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Ever since Lisa and John married several years ago Lisa has been locked securely in her chastity belt and steel collar. Each has improved over the years until now Lisa’s belt and collar is custom made from stainless steel. The attached thigh cuffs and belt fit her perfectly maintaining complete security from any probing items that might try and penetrate it. When John has to travel for his job he leaves her locked in her steel sometimes adding a chain from her collar to belt in both front and back just to add to her frustrations. The chain makes bending even more difficult than with just the wider than normal waist strap of the chastity belt forcing Lisa to have to use her knees instead of bending at the waist.

Forever Chastity

Mon, 07 Nov 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Jodi lays stretched between the jaws of the huge machine, her wrists and ankles tethered by thick cables keeping her taunt. The only support for her body is the jaw of the machine her waist was now sitting in waiting for the upper half to clamp down and do its magic sealing the tight band of steel permanently around her waist. Morgan was at the controls, he had been the one to build her chastity belts in the past and had come up with this solution to help her achieve her dream of being chastised forever. Jody had worn the last belt he had created for her for a year straight, he had the key the whole time making her a deal that if she completed her challenge showing him she really wanted to be belted forever he would figure out a way to lock her in it permanently. Secretly Morgan hoped the large heavy steel would prove too much for her and he wouldn’t have to go through with his promise.

Directions (Read the)

Sun, 31 Jul 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Eva had wanted a matching set of steel restraints for years, searching the internet and fetish shops regularly hoping to find the perfect set. Eva not only wanted to use them as they were designed but wanted them to be pretty enough to wear as jewelry letting everyone who saw them know her preference and what she was looking for. She had purchased several wrist cuffs but none had ever met her standards. The last cuffs she bought were beautifully polished with almost invisible seams and fold away d-rings that fit nicely into the thick steel when not being used but the cuffs failed to meet her expectations elsewhere.

The Secret Life of Rica 8: Inevitable

Sat, 05 Dec 2015 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Secret Life of Rica 7: An Unexpected Visitor)

Chapter 8: Inevitable

Erica took her time studying Bea, her face, her hair, her legs, her waist, the swell of her bust. Bea had let her down badly with Ee-Zee. She was blushing but was that a sign of guilt? Or something else?

Bea’s impish pout dissolved into a smile. “I know. I know. I was very naughty.”

Erica refused to look her in the eye. “Yes you were. It’s time for your punishment.” She kept her voice even.

Emma's Entombment

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1

Emma Lewis crept away from her tent, determined to visit that secret corridor she’d found at the dig. Being a gossip it’d been hard to keep it to herself until the last of the team had left for a long weekend in Cairo, leaving her as the senior member to catalogue their finds. It was still steaming hot as she slid silently past the guard, who as usual was asleep at his post. Coming into the dig site Emma was pleased to see it was deserted, that everyone had left as intended. She really was alone and the girl smiled as she headed down the passageway into the centre of the complex. They’d only been here a few weeks and according to geo-physical radar this was only a tiny bit of what was at the site. Like Emma’s secret, the small rolling stone she’d nudged with her leg while brushing past a group standing there chatting. It had moved with surprising ease and she quickly shoved it back. Determined to see what was down there first, rather than playing second fiddle to the boss. Since then she’d only been alone there once and had a minute to move the stone, shine her torch to see what was there then roll it back before she got caught. Now was her chance to explore and the youngster looked around then bent down and placed her hands and pushed. Emma smiled as it smoothly eased aside, allowing her to peer in. At first Emma was disappointed. It was only about fifty feet long, the sandstone passageway and a very low roof. Barely four feet high with one entrance off to the right at the far end. Grumbling slightly she crawled through the gap then turned and tried to roll the stone back. It took an effort but finally she succeeded at her task. The slight ‘thump’ as it rocked into the groove underneath made her tremble. Emma paused then tried to move it, more strength was needed but it did eventually shift. Once Miss Lewis knew she could get out then her fears vanished. The floor was surprisingly smooth as Emma crawled along, wishing she’d worn shorts rather than the trousers she had been ordered to use. The locals here seemed to ogle her too much and it was her boss who’d suggested to the girl she covers up. But now alone and ‘sealed in’ she didn’t care, once down the passageway she intended to strip off.

Emma's Entombment 2

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 1

Part 2

Had Emma not just used the toilet she’d have wet herself! “Quiet missy!” came the harsh instruction as she’d started to squeal. The other arm now across her own, stopping her reaching up to get it off her face. The unknown assailant wrestled the youngster into the inner part of the tent then pushed her to the floor. A stunned girl looked up to see a surprised looking Professor Cline staring back at a very naked and now blushing senior researcher as Emma tried to cover her chest one handed, the other over her midriff. Foolishly she tried to make a dash for it rather than explain herself having been asked what the hell she was playing at and the guy reacted faster than she expected, forgetting he was an Army self-defence instructor from years ago before academia came knocking. Grabbing Emma’s arms and twisting them behind her back, pushing her back to the floor again this time face down. To her shock he lashed her wrists together with the cord from his bathrobe before lifting her up and throwing the girl onto the camp bed! “Stop struggling or it’ll get worse!” he snapped as she wriggled and tried to get up. Eyes widening as his own looked her over and again Emma flushed as his face broke into a grin at the sight of a naked and bound female in distress.

Emma's Entombment 3

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 2

Part 3

He’d honour that promise too. A hero’s return to England, bravery awards to him and the two lads, Cline making sure their actions were recognised but all the time he was dealing with her. Firstly the debrief for the trip, then an extensive series of operations on her ankle before rehabilitation began, this last bit paid for by the Army. They’d been so proud of him, and rather than ‘standing a few rounds’ he’d asked them for physical and financial help for her. But on personal notes it was soon apparent that Emma Lewis and the Prof were becoming ‘an item’. Within eighteen months they got engaged, a year later a quiet registry office saw her becoming Mrs Tony Cline. Only a few were there. Both sets of parents, Tony’s closest mate was best man and Emma’s sister was bridesmaid. Even here the girl showed a slightly rebellious side. Turning up at the place wearing a cream trouser-suit and heels rather than a ‘meringue.’ “He’s marrying me, not the dress.” she’d said when telling her mum what was to be worn at the service. “It’ll keep the bills down too dad,” and they’d all laughed at that. Cline however was thrilled when she arrived. “Typical Em, do this and straight to the pub,” he chuckled and things went ahead. Two weeks later her new passport had arrived and they were off on honeymoon… to Egypt! “Thought that would be the LAST place you’d go guys. Guess you could do some work for us too?” they were asked chatting to the others in the Oxford faculty. Both grinned but didn’t say that they intended to return to Neen-Al-Tudlobry, the site of their dig to see what progress had been made by the Museum staff who’d taken over. Only the couple knew there was another motive and it was Emma who’d proposed an idea. Despite what had happened she still had a thing about that sarcophagus and what it had contained. “Yeah I like you wearing that robe too,” Cline chuckled when talking about it, but his fiancée wanted to take it to the next stage. “I’d like you to bury me in there while dressed and restrained!” He was amazed, Emma showing him how it could be done. “There must be spaces there in that room or the bigger one where tombs are placed, just haven’t found one yet. It’d just be for a couple of hours’ mind. The air in that thing was a bit stuffy after thirty minutes last time. We could measure it. Close the lid while above, time it then I’ll knock on the top when I’ve had enough, or after two hours you’d open it anyway.” After a night’s sleep to think it over he had agreed, earning him a long smooch. So the newlyweds arrived in Cairo, pleased to be back as familiar sights and smells of the capital enveloped them. They didn’t bother with that many of the sites. “Seen one pyramid, seen em all!” he’d joked but they did go to the National Museum. The pair wanting to see the display of artefacts from their dig, all the stuff having been returned to Egypt after examinations and a year-long exhibition in Oxford. The local archaeologists were delighted to have the pieces back rather than losing them and were grateful to the British. They were just finishing when a big man turned up. “Mr Tony, welcome back,” he’d said effusively. Professor Feroz greeted Cline like a brother, the bearhug and rub of faces something he was used to. Emma didn’t get that, the Egyptian was unsure but eventually they carefully shook hands as he inclined his head. The girl happy with that as she was introduced as Mrs Cline instead of Miss Lewis. “Ahh, now I understand, rescue the lady, then marry the lady, good plan,” he said. A cheeky wink to her and she blushed SO red under her headscarf. Having dressed today in a shawlwa-kameez, the robes most women in Egypt wore and that had earned her a lot of respect from the hotel staff and approving looks here too. The locals used to Westerners’ flaunting themselves in public. Coffee was brought to the boss’ office, Emma dutifully serving them, mainly so she could dilute her drink first. A big cup of this stuff would exceed her normal caffeine intake for the day! They talked a while about the exhibition then chatter turned to the site at Neen-Al-Tudlobry itself. Feroz said while the wreckage had been cleared, building proper accommodation and suchlike they’d continued for a year once the political crisis had eased. But then they’d stopped six months ago due to financing problems. “Yeah, we’ve all had that,” was her retort and that got Emma a laugh from both men. The place was so remote, nearly sixty miles from Cairo on bad roads too so any ideas of opening it to the public had been abandoned for the moment. The equipment had been left on site but mothballed, a caretaker visited once a week and no problems had been found. Yesterday’s report was the same. While not good news for tourists Emma’s heart had leapt as it meant… they’d be alone for… playtime! Cline didn’t mention they were going there and Feroz soon changed the subject onto something else. They left an hour later; Emma blushing as this time she did get a warm hug. “Tony Cline, you look after your lovely lady!” he was ordered and the Prof laughed. “Good stuff, means we’ll be fine,” she grinned as they returned to the hotel and that night their lovemaking was as passionate as they’d ever been before. Driving down the track next day Tony had watched Emma out of the corner of his eye. Seeing her fingers trembling slightly. Feroz had made no comment about the Abdul situation, leaving the couple wondering if he’d ever turned up or what. It also had not been mentioned during the Oxford debrief. Pulling into Neen-Al-Tudlobry was like going back in time. Seeing the dusty buildings that had appeared since they were last here. Taking Emma’s hand Cline led his wife towards the dig, feeling her shaking, but this eased as they got closer. Walking inside they wandered around seeing new passages leading to empty chambers. None with any wall markings and this was partly the reason progress had stopped. The place just wasn’t providing clues and rewards had been slim. Finally they came back up the passageway to ‘her’ stone, still amazed that nobody had realised what lay beyond it. It took a harder shove this time; sand had blocked the groove until Tony swept the slot out with a hand before easing the stone back again. Crawling up the passageway following his wife’s lovely ass. Emerging into the room he saw Emma’s face lighting up as she realised the place was intact, though looking at the floor he could see a large pile of sand against one wall, slightly different colour to the stuff that was already on the ground. Right underneath the crack that provided the lighting in here. There must have been one hell of a storm recently or surely in 3000 years the room would have been filled long before. Listening to his wife opening the sarcophagus and a sigh moments later. Turning he saw Emma holding the robe to her face, gently rubbing the material with her nose. She smiled, blushed then handed it over and began to strip off. Soon she was tying the fastenings at the back, Cline just happy to watch her manage it with some skill. Emma Cline felt a wave of calmness sweep over her once she’d finished. Paused then beckoned him closer. Hands going onto her body and rubbing all over, noticing she’d stopped trembling now. “You alright?” he asked and she just clung to him as he worked on. Feeling her nodding. “Yes love. It’s great to be back… and wearing this. Just feel so different when I’m in it. At peace with myself and not afraid to be here because of… him. Sounds strange but I do OK?” He grinned then turned Emma around, resting his head on her shoulder and whispering how much he loved her. Cupping her breasts from behind then stroking and she made no attempt to stop that. Shuddering as the nipples grew harder. “That’s lovely… you can do that all day,” she chuckled. Minutes later they stopped and Tony led her to the sarcophagus. Removing the bands then waving her to step in. She paused then looked at him in disappointment. He grinned, apologised then replaced them all then tried again as they agreed the freedom time. A kiss was given once she was secure and then he locked the front. Leaving her alone while going off for a pee and a good walk round the caverns. Emma was thrilled once the fourth thunk had passed. Gently writhing in her bonds, wondering if Tony would allow her to take the robe back to Cairo tonight. To sleep in it with him holding her all night, it would be nice so she planned to ask him later. Maybe she could have the belt too? Tony wandered around the room having returned, scraping sand into piles as if he were about to make a sandcastle! Boots making ruts in the surface then one caught something; a lip or ridge and the archaeologist in him went to work. Soon he had two ridges at an angle, going further round and before long it formed a square, possibly about three feet in all directions. “Like a hatch?” Looking up it was right in the middle of the room, measurements with a tape measure? Yes, it was EXACT. To the nearest inch in all directions, but what was it? He wondered whether to, but Emma was due out in… two minutes. This time he did hear her calling and soon the sarcophagus was opened just as his watch began bleeping. “Well done, you just did the full two hours Em. How was it?” and she smiled, replying it’d been all right and surprised that the air was fine even after that session. “So two is not a problem, or maybe three hours at a push. But no longer.” Looking a little sad to be asked to remove the robe and get dressed because he had something to show her. She’d ask her question lat… Then Emma glanced down at the floor, surprised not to have noticed what he’d found. They walked round it and eventually Tony decided to get a crowbar. Returning a few minutes later with the implement plus a couple of tyre levers from a battered truck parked nearby. After ten minutes of levering Tony finally had his answer. It WAS a hatch and between them they raised one side. Folding the thing back, then letting it thump into the sand as it wasn’t hinged but loose. Both heads peered over the edge… to see nothing! The hole below was empty, going down about maybe eight feet? It was smaller than the hatch as the edge of the lid came in at an angle or they’d never have got it open without damaging it. So the hole itself was only about eighteen inches one way and two feet the other. Fetching the tape measure he fed the end down, watching the length until Emma said stop on seeing the silver tab hit the sand and bend. “It’s ten feet deep exactly love,” he replied, making it off before looking up at his wife, but beyond her head was the sarcophagus and he got up. Holding the tape against it and reaching up. “I’m six feet and it’s at least another one to the base of the stone loop on that stub. Add that and I’d say seven and a half. So… ” he stopped then reached to one side and told Emma to go around to the other so they could measure the sarcophagus itself. Calling out the totals then the couple looked at each other… “Right in the centre, facing east if you lower it correctly… There’s your answer Emma love. It just fits with an inch or less all round. Well… Welcome to your tomb, that’s where you’ll be buried,” he grinned and she smiled nervously. Her eyes widening at the thought. Saying it was one thing, actually going through with it? How to get the thing in the hole was the most important question as it weighed a lot. Probably half a ton or more and Cline was impressed that Emma had moved it alone before. She grinned, flexing her arms like Popeye and that got her a tickle. “Wonder if this place has a winch? Doubt it. Seems the guard might have missed a few bits vanishing but surely not an a-frame or similar. We’ll have a look.” Coming outside to examine a couple of the buildings and finding them empty. One with unmade beds in and they wondered… “No, it’ll be getting dark in three hours Emma, plus the hotel would report us missing. We’ll come back tomorrow and look in the others. Nile cruise doesn’t leave til Thursday so we’ve got a spare day anyway.” She looked rather disappointed, Cline knowing she was not looking forward to the drive back more like. They had a drink and left Neen-Al-Tudlobry and made it back after two hours of her hanging on for dear life. Tony not the world’s slowest driver, nor had he allowed her to bring the robe so it was a quiet ride back. She’d brightened up after dinner and they went for a walk round the square, marvelling at the hustle and bustle of this place. Next morning they awoke to a stormy sky and a phone call from reception before breakfast. The Nile cruise had been delayed by 24 hours because of the weather but surprisingly Emma seemed pleased. “OK, we’ll have an inside day, maybe go back to the museum as we did miss a lot of it, then go to Neen-Al-Tudlobry Thursday. Don’t fancy that long drive today in crap conditions, especially after last night.” A slight edge in her voice so he needed to be conciliatory now. “If we check out of here tomorrow as planned maybe we could stay at the port and join the boat Friday. If I recall the hotel near the dockside is that one where they filmed Poirot.” Cline agreed, as it was a great plan and not one he’d thought of. He was a movie buff and had wanted to go, but had forgotten about this til now. To actually stay there for a night would be superb. Getting the concierge to book them a room, also now discovering the port was closer to Neen-Al-Tudlobry than here so it would allow them more playtime as well. “Couldn’t have turned out better. But you better get dressed first love, not going out in your night-shirt!” he said once confirmations had come through. She looked lovely again as they left the hotel, this time wearing a dark blue maxi-dress and matching jacket over the top, as it was rather cool. Obligatory headscarf so only her Western running shoes and a wisp of blonde hair coming from one side made anyone look twice as they headed for the museum. Rashid Feroz soon heard the couple was back. Inviting them for a private lunch once they’d finished the bits they’d wanted to see. Then after that he allowed the pair to visit the normally off-limits restoration areas. “After all, you know most of what is in here. You might even have found some of it!” and that made Emma laugh. Her heart jumped on seeing a similar sarcophagus to the one at Neen-Al-Tudlobry. A brief look and she noted there were no pins inside. Tony had already forewarned his wife not to mention where they’d been yesterday or that they were going back. Just saying to the Professor they had done some ‘off-road’ driving in the 4x4, also about going on the cruise Friday. Departing after ‘coffee plus’ they were in high spirits, hubby holding Emma’s hand as they trawled through crowded streets. Then out of the blue he paused, Em walking into his back; she’d been window gazing so not paying attention. Cline had turned around, his face paling. Murmuring “Quickly love, go into that alleyway, move it!” That last part delivered in his Army ‘do it NOW’ voice. The girl obeyed as he then followed, almost pushing her ahead then an arm grabbed her waist, the other coming across her mouth and she panicked until Tony hissed ‘shut up love… please’. For a moment she froze, fearing the worst before he let go. Telling Emma to stay put while he checked something out. A minute later he returned, apologising for that but ‘suggesting’ they return to the hotel… now. She fell silent. Now getting frightened as he hurried her along. The dress trying to trip Emma up and only when they were in the lobby did he relax and let go of her hand. Once they were in the lift Tony told her what had happened. “I’m sure we nearly bumped into that bastard Abdul!” Emma was appalled. Bursting into tears and that took a while to get through. Ignoring a look from a hotel staff member as they hurried to their room. Only once the door was closed and locked did she start to calm down and apologise for that. He cradled her body, gently crooning sweet nothings until Emma was smiling again. She did request a room-service dinner and well before ten the couple went to bed, planning an early start. Tony lying there holding his girl tightly, her warm body swathed in a peachy cotton night-shirt. “Not nearly as good as ‘that’ one I’ll be wearing tomorrow, plus all the other stuff,” she finally smiled, teeth glittering in the moonlight, Tony pleased that she seemed alright now. They didn’t make love as she assumed would happen as just for once he had the headache! Up at five and Tony was surprised Emma took so long with her bath. Normally she’d hop in, wash then dive out again within minutes. But today she sat there gently rubbing everywhere with her sponge. Declining his offer to help, mainly so he could give her breasts some love! “No. I’m fine honey, no worries. Just savouring this. Once I’m there it’s gonna be a long time til the next one.” He grinned, looking again at his watch and she smiled then slowly got out, dripping water everywhere. Tony taking the fluffy towels and drying her from head to foot. Once at her dresser he was also allowed to brush that blonde mess into something more respectable. Seven AM saw them at breakfast and if yesterday’s outfit was good, today’s’… was wow. Emma decided to wear her ‘bridal suit’ and those heels. Tony stunned at this so he took some photos of her out on their veranda, the sun low in the sky and she looked beautiful. The staff too almost fell over themselves to serve the pair though he noticed Emma not eating that much. “They think you’re some sort of film star love,” he chuckled as she sat glowing away. They were checked out by nine, with baggage in the 4x4 and soon heading for Neen-Al-Tudlobry where they arrived at eleven. On the way they’d chatted about the dig in a professional way, Emma finally deciding that as ‘her’ room was the only one that had a full set of hieroglyphics on the wall that Neen-Al-Tudlobry had actually been abandoned before being used. The other part decorated room and the few artefacts found seemed to support that theory. “A shame Rashid Feroz doesn’t know. Guess once we’ve finished we could always ‘discover’ mine. Would be embarrassing for us but least it’d give him something better than what he’s got.” Tony Cline thought that was a great idea and stroked her leg until she pleaded with him to concentrate on the driving! The girl quietening down as they turned up the last valley road, twisting in her seat and admiring the view away to the east. By the time they trundled down the track he could see Emma trembling, but a pat on the knee reassured her and least she didn’t bitch about the ride now they were alone. Arriving at the dig she sighed and got out. Changing her heels for the running shoes. “Way more practical,” she finally laughed standing upright again. They walked into the buildings not yet checked and she heard a ‘yes… result’ from her man. Looking through the door she saw him pointing to an a-frame winch. Just what was needed to get the sarcophagus in and out of the hole. It needed to be dismantled first and getting it into the room was going to take time and effort. “Your bath is gonna be wasted love, you’ll sweat buckets. Least we’ve got towels with us!” She grinned and walked out as he started to dismantle the winch. Going into the dig and patting ‘her’ stone as she went past. Turning the corner to the right, knowing that only a few feet of earth separated her from the room where this had all started. The girl paused seeing something not remembered from before. A tiny disc in the wall, like the one on the sarcophagus that enabled it to be secured. So small you could easily miss it. She looked up and down the corridor and noticed a couple more. Reaching out she grasped one and with difficulty turned it. Jumping on hearing a familiar ‘thunk’ as if a lock had moved. Peering closely at it from where the sound had originated Emma discerned there was a vertical line nearby. Emma heard Tony calling so she replied, asking him to come closer. He did, walking round the bend and seeing her point, telling him what had happened. He looked and smiled. “Reckon it’s a door?” She nodded so they got some tools and scraped three millennia of dust away to see the sides and top. After a few minutes work he tried and pushed… hard. … CRACK. The wall moved! Emma squealed and grabbed his arm as he almost fell forward. The stone moving away on some sort of ridge and they stepped through…and found another empty room! Horizontal ridges cut from the walls as if they were shelves, alcoves too. “Looks like a storeroom,” was the agreed consensus. “Bugger, probably loads around the place. You’re right love. I think we really should tell Rashid Feroz, he might find something decent after all,” he said and Emma laughed, jabbing him in the ribs before she got a tickle in return. They paused for a drink then he walked back up, seeing another disc, not that far from the stone. “How did we miss that?” she asked. Glaring at it then Tony relented. More scraping and shoving then suddenly a repeat performance as another secret door was opened. This one leading straight into the room and Emma’s heart leapt on seeing the sarcophagus that would soon be buried with her in it. Now they worked quickly. Emma stripped off the jacket and over the next hour the winch parts were carried through the new entrance and Tony assembled it. Testing took a while. The sarcophagus was lighter than he thought once it was off the floor. Swinging from side to side on its loop. Emma weighed eight stone so he opened the door, got her to stand with her fingers holding it mostly closed from inside then tried again. Finding out it’d not be a problem. She trembled when Tony put the sarcophagus right into the hole a couple of times as it looked SO deep. Butterflies’ orbiting in her stomach and the girl was glad she’d not eaten too much this morning. He turned having levered it out, seeing her walking out of the room, stopping it then following his wife back to the entrance. Emma stood there holding the rocky outcrop, looking up at the sky. The girl jumping as he slid both hands round her waist then asked if she was alright. “Yes, just appreciating the view Tony. When I’m locked in there it is totally dark. Even after an hour I could see nothing. Not even that groove mark on the inside. Takes a bit of getting used to, OK?” He nodded, convinced now that Emma was having second thoughts and he couldn’t blame her. He’d once had an operation on his eye as a kid and needed to wear a patch for a month. Covering the other one time he’d stared into blackness and it had scared him. Now he understood a bit more.

Emma's Entombment 4

Sun, 15 Nov 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part 3

Part 4

It was Emma who awoke first, cradled in her husband’s arms. Seeing the sun rising over the wonderful Cairo skyline. She sighed and snuggled closer to her man… knowing… knowing… Knowing this might be their last day alive! In the months after her surprise release from the casket by Rashid Feroz and his men, she, and her husband had endured a living hell at the hands of the Egyptian authorities. Yet at first it seemed to have been all right. Emma had stood in the sarcophagus for what seemed hours, convinced now that she was permanently entombed, when suddenly her ears heard a ‘thump’ “Surely… not?” she whispered, then minutes later her eyes blurred with tears as the faint sounds of what appeared to be digging reached her. “Oh Emma, I’m sorry… they’ve come after all!” she wept, part wanting freedom, but also now wondering if this was Tony alone as it got louder. But why was he digging anyway? The sarcophagus only had to be hooked up then winched out, unless that had somehow broken. Gradually she could hear voices… not just Tony when he’d yelled, hoping for her to reply. Trouble being that Emma didn’t want to be freed now if it was not just something between them. The idea she’d get opened up like some exhibit terrified Mrs Cline so the girl didn’t reply. “Please Emma, fight for me… ” she sobbed, those veils soaked with tears and sticking to both cheeks now. Tony was relieved when they arrived there. Himself and Rashid Feroz, plus two men from the museum but the Professor’s wife Fatima was also here; brought by her husband to look after Mrs Cline if she’d survived. Feroz was amazed when Cline showed him the room and his eyes swept the walls, the Brit however was appalled to find the place empty! “But it WAS here Rashid. I promise you… IT WAS HERE!” he said, jabbing at the floor. The two workers looked baffled, their boss guilty as he stared at Cline. “My turn to confess Tony… ” he said. Only Cline’s professionally trained responses to a crisis stopped him killing the Egyptian right there when Feroz told him about the police report. Simmering down after he finished, his boots scraping around and eventually finding the edges of the hatch. “OK, guess we’re as bad. But let’s not waste any more time.” So they began. Cline assembling his winch while the workers dug. Feroz preparing a drill to make some air holes. The three local men’s eyes widened on hitting the top of the sarcophagus. Cline just relieved and it was he who started yelling to his wife, praying for her to respond. Not knowing she was weeping quietly below. The sound of the drill was terrifyingly loud as it bored into the top. Feroz easing it down, worried that he might end up killing Mrs Cline himself. So he did holes in the corners away from where her head should be, several now showing darkness against the sandstone. He stopped after doing ten. Lying on the edge then banged on the top. “Mrs Cline, its Professor Feroz. Are you alright… ?” he said. Everyone listening intently… Twice more he tried and was about to admit defeat when… “Yes Rashid… I’m fine… Is Tony there?” they heard faintly. The two workers looked stunned, each hugging the other, as it appeared their mission was successful now. Cline was in tears, his face buried in both hands before he went and embraced the two men. Fatima standing to one side looking amazed. Her lips moving as she prayed thanks to her God for the deliverance of this lady. Delivering Mrs Cline to the surface took another hour. Now she’d accepted the idea of freedom Emma began to talk to her man as he briefed her on what had happened. She took it well, knowing they would be in Rashid’s debt for many a year now. Either financially or something else. More holes were drilled around the top, obliterating the face now then the whole front part of the head fell away, revealing… The Egyptian group stared at the sight of the white veiled figure inside as they looked down. Tony had not told them about Emma’s attire and he knew the level of embarrassment would get worse as more of his wife’s lovely body was revealed. More digging from the side now and soon they were down halfway. Her chest visible now and the workers stunned as they stared at her breasts. Her face inside rocking slightly, that gold collar around its neck and she was still crying as well. When they stopped for a break everyone except Tony went outside. Leaving him to cradle Emma’s face and try to unlock the first of her restraints. Searching for the lever brought a puzzled look. “They fell out, all six of them,” she shrugged on being asked. Then Cline heard the rest and it made him shudder. Realising that they were going to have to smash the whole sarcophagus apart, in-situ and his heart sank… .only to see her suddenly starting to smile at him. “What’s so funny… honey,” he began, smiling now at the rhyme. She grinned back, trembling as he crouched down and the couple had a long kiss. Emma’s eyes beginning to water again at the thought of freedom seconds away. “The pins are all upright. Now you remember that surely Tony? You put the restraints on. It’s easy. Just put your hands under my arms… and lift!” His head fell against hers and they kissed again before he bent down, sliding his buckets, firstly over those breasts making her squeak before getting into position. Under her armpits and… Emma Cline squealed as she felt herself rising. Neck, back, the legs and her wrists all suddenly loose from their pins. The weight coming off her feet for the first time in ages was SO good as she clung on. Bursting into tears as he brought her up and out of the sarcophagus and laid her down on the sand. Grabbing a blanket that Fatima Feroz had been sitting on while the others had worked. Wrapping Emma’s torso to protect her modesty as she kicked off those shoes with a groan. “Bit late now, those two have been staring at them ever since that big chunk came off. Which, unfortunately is more than can be said for my ‘jewellery.’ They all tightened again after the sarcophagus was closed. Then the handles fell out too. You’re going to have to grind them off!” The collar was going to be the problem. Far too tight to cut from inside out and the other way would risk slicing into an artery. It took Tony long enough to remove the veils, at first feeding them through. Before ending up chopping the material apart from above with a knife then tugging the fragments away. NOW they could properly kiss. Lips locked together and it felt so good as he stroked her cheeks. Dabbing them dry with a hankie, amazed that despite her ordeal Emma still looked lovely, if a little red around the eyes. Make-up was smudged too. “You’re a bloody mess!” She laughed now, hugging him tightly, the tears soon restarting however and that was how the others found them. Locked together and only a polite cough split the couple apart. Rashid Feroz was amazed to see her free. Staring at the gold loops around her limbs, the collar too. Thankfully the blanket covered her body but those long slim legs were clearly visible through the material of her dress. Fatima just looked shocked, but eventually came closer and was hugged by the ‘victim’ as she still thought of the girl. The other two men looked on impassionless now. Seeing as their job was done. Feroz spoke to them both and lots of nodding was done. Cline came up and personally thanked them, then Emma staggered to her feet, wincing in pain but walked over with Fatima’s assistance. Taking their hands and kissing them on both cheeks. It seemed to satisfy the pair, Cline noticing the younger guy had stroked Emma’s ass! They packed away the winch then left, taking the truck with them. Tony intending to drive the other two back in their jeep. Firstly they had to get those restraints off Emma’s body and led her out of the dig. The girl breathing fresh air, even though it was way after dark. Two long hours later Emma Cline was genuinely ‘free’. The last loop cut into three segments lying on the workshop table. She picked up the bit marked ‘Emma’ and briefly kissed it before Tony brought in a suitcase and his wife went alone next door and dressed herself into… well something a little less revealing! Fatima Feroz held Emma’s robe and cradling it to her face with a sigh as the girl returned. Rashid saw this and grinned, his wife starting to blush and she turned away. Mrs Cline taking it from the lady, folding it carefully then ‘presenting’ it with a bow. Feroz saw a look pass between them then the ladies hugged again. The Egyptian’s wife looked to her man and he nodded. An embarrassed smile on Fatima’s face then they all laughed as she went red. She tucked it into a bag then suggested it was time they went home. Cline looked at his watch and winced. Nearly 10pm now and he guessed the hotel ought to be told they were going to be very late. He asked Feroz to call them and the man did, but during the conversation Tony realised something was wrong. Rashid jabbering away then he nodded, seeing Fatima too appeared to be agreeing with him as the call ended. “They thought you were not coming, especially as most of the other guests couldn’t get there either because of the accident.” The two Britons looked puzzled before he explained “Sorry Tony, but a container ship broke free from its moorings and hit your boat, splitting it in two! It’s OK, nobody got killed as the tour hadn’t started receiving guests. The crew is fine too. Some a bit wet, as they had to dive off the back. But it means no vessel, as the company only have the two and the second is up river.” Emma looked disconsolate now, only cheering slightly as the Feroz’s invited them to remain at the house as their guests. Cline didn’t want to impose but it was Fatima who insisted. Rashid going along with it, though he did laugh and asked Emma’ if she’d like to return to her sarcophagus instead! That cracked everyone up and they departed, getting to the Feroz apartment just after midnight. Rashid saying he hoped that they would stay the weekend… as he wanted a longer look at the extra bits at Neen-Al Tudlobry. Now he had the ‘experts’ he hoped more interesting artifacts would appear. Tony looked at his wife and she glowed, the girl intending to be more honest and reveal the existance of the storeroom. So that was agreed and on the Friday afternoon the Professor and both Clines’ returned. Fatima was at work so was unable to come. “Some of us have proper jobs. Unlike you three playing games,” she’d said with a twinkle when they’d prepared to depart. A great day was had; Rashid astonished as he saw the storeroom then asked what else they knew about. Slightly dismayed to find this was ‘it’. As far as the couple had got. “However,” Tony said. “We’re not due to be back in Cairo for six days. If you want, as the cruise is off we’ll do some exploring until then. Get all these documented as well, yes?” Pointing to the hieroglyphics on the wall. Rashid Feroz was delighted, agreeing to that so everyone went back to Cairo where Fatima was told of the plans. Mrs Feroz taking Emma off to go food and supply shopping for the British pair. She was still amazed at what Mrs Cline had endured and they had a ‘girlie’ chat about what it had all been about. Emma finding out that her host had a wonderful sense of humour and they’d enjoy their day out together. A dinner for four at a local restaurant then back to their place. Emma and Tony sitting outside late on as the others had retired early. Going past the couple’s bedroom to use a bathroom Mrs Cline couldn’t help listening. Returning to her own she saw her hubby and slyly grinned. “I think Fatima’s getting full use of my ‘robe’” she murmured. Sunday saw them departing Cairo. Hugs and kisses all round before Tony drove his wife away. The pair now armed with enough stuff to last the week, but also official permits and translated documents from Rashid’s office allowing them to be there too. “I wasn’t able to speak to the police but show them these and you’ll be alright. Good luck… and don’t get stuck again!” he joked and they all laughed at that. The rest of the day the couple worked hard in the room. All the hieroglyphics were photographed and e-mailed to Rashid. Getting a ‘well-done’ in return. They had dinner in the open, sitting outside looking up at the stars once the sun had vanished. “You know Tony, I really thought my time had come, will not happen again,” Emma said cuddling him. Turning in later on he came to the dormitory to see his wife dressed in… “Might have guessed. You’ve been waiting all day to get into one of those haven’t you Mrs?” he grinned. Emma now blushing as she sat on the bed waiting for Tony’s wandering hands that were heading towards her breasts. Monday dawned cool and clear so after breakfast Emma dressed conservatively in her blue maxi-dress, this time without the jacket. Trainers applied and Tony had nodded in approval. Now she was striding towards the dig entrance long after lunch when she heard a jeep coming along the track. It drove right up to her and two policemen got out. Promptly grabbing the girl and naturally Emma screamed as they started yelling at her. When she didn’t reply one of the men slapped her hard across the face and she fell backwards and tumbled to the floor in a cloud of dust. Tony heard the commotion and hurried up the passageway, emerging to see his wife being handcuffed then dragged to the jeep and hurled against the side. Shouting at the cops to stop he advanced. Only for one of them to draw a pistol, ordering him in Arabic to raise his hands. Well, the gesture appeared to be that so Cline obeyed. The driver now got out, obviously the senior man and it was Tony’s turn to get the treatment. Of course being a physically imposing specimen he too was cuffed before the couple were led to the dormitory. The policemen seeing the footprints leading to and from the building and knowing where any other people might be found. Both Britons were told to sit down. Emma looking very scared as she was ‘dusted off’ by wandering hands then she was helped to a chair by the two smirking young officers. Her cuffs digging into the wrists and she was already worried about nerve damage as they were far too tightly applied. Cline did his best. Indicating where Feroz’s permits were and one of the men grabbed the file. Leafing through them and muttering something to the boss. He shrugged and nodded. To their relief both sets of cuffs were removed and the pair allowed sitting next to the other. Emma’s hands being cradled by her husband. Mainly to stop them seeing how frightened they both were. A bottle of water appeared and was tossed across. Cline’s great reactions preventing it striking his wife’s face as she recoiled. The language barrier was an obvious problem. Neither of the Clines spoke Arabic and if their captors knew English then they were not letting on as they rabid on for ages. The chief was getting cross now and eventually pointed to them, then the door and Tony guessed this might mean trouble. Emma stared in shock at the gesture to stand up then put her arms behind. Slowly doing so then the officers produced their handcuffs. She made to move towards Tony for protection but a loud command made her freeze. Emma trembled as the cuffs were applied, wincing, as again they were too tight before he pointed to the door and she was led outside. Tony stood helpless as she vanished, hearing her start to cry before her footsteps had faded. A loud squeal of ‘No!’ made him glare at the boss… who drew his own pistol and cocked it! One man returned… smiling and jabbering to the boss. Who now grinned then Tony was led out, the guy surprised not to have been cuffed. To see only the jeep and their own. No sign of his wife and he turned, getting angry now. “Where is she?” he stormed. Itching to go to the police vehicle, as she must be in the blacked out back. But he was forced at gunpoint by the boss to get into the driver’s seat of their own jeep then indications were that he was to lead, the others would follow. Emma was terrified as she’d been bundled into the vehicle and made to sit on the bench. One of the men followed and Mrs Cline shook as he grabbed more cuffs and her ankles were secured together. Another set was applied to a strut below the wooden slats and it’s other loop attached to her restraints between those trembling legs. Pinning her into position. A shout to his mate getting in up front and the driver fired up the engine. She didn’t hear Tony at first then his voice, making her smile briefly before a slap wiped that off her face. Emma made to kick him, only to gasp as the cuffs did their job, digging into her skin and she yelped. A wagging finger from the smirking officer made it worse. Away they roared. Emma trying desperately to hang on, grabbing the slats as the driver tried to keep up with Tony and once more Em wished he wasn’t trying to be a rally-driver. At one point she almost slid off the bench. Only the officer’s hands grabbing her torso stopped Mrs Cline doing that. Of course it gave him an opportunity for a grope too and Emma squealed, making the Egyptians laugh. A barrage of chatter flying between them, before the driver said something in English! “We’ll see you alright Mrs… ” then laughed in a way that made the girl shiver… Emma was shocked; launching into a right rant, going on for a few minutes as the pair just grinned at her. Making Mrs Cline furious now. She threatened to tell their boss what they’d done to her while he was out of view. The one in the back stuck his face close to hers. “We haven’t done anything to you,” her captor grinned… “Yet.” She lost control now. Aiming a head-butt that only just missed as he ducked back. That was a serious miscalculation on her part. More jabbering as he leaned against the partition at the front then said something sharp to his mate. The driver stood hard on the brakes and no way could Emma Cline hold on. Launching forward she tumbled off the bench smacking headfirst into the divider. The anklecuffs digging harshly into her legs and Emma screamed. Shaking her head at the blow and falling to the floor as he accelerated again. The guy in the back moved swiftly now as she rolled about face down, unable to help herself get up. He unlocked the cuff from the strut and tugged upwards. Emma’s feet lifting before he pulled forward and bent her legs towards the wrists. Easing the loop around and relocking it in a hog-tie. Now Mrs Cline panicked before her chin was grabbed and he shoved an oily rag in there, wrapping another over the top as Emma went berserk. This was intolerable but there was precious little she could do except scream. But like Abdul it just seemed to be spurring her assailant on. He laughed to his mate, the driver turning to look and that was SO frightening as the jeep swerved and wobbled over the road. Now she quietened down, hoping this would be enough but young policeman had other ideas for pretty foreign lady. She had things he and Rasul, his mate upfront didn’t. Lifting underneath Emma’s armpits he hauled the girl up onto her knees then forced Mrs Cline back onto her haunches, facing the front away from him. NOW he could get to work. Unzipping Emma’s dress, ignoring her frantic squeals as she realised this was only the start of some serious abuse. He eased the shoulder straps down over her arms, pinning them to her torso. Revealing the lacy black bra and the twin treasures it contained. Deftly that too was undone and her perfect 36C’s were laid bare for them to ogle. The driver guffawing as his buddy placed both hands and squeezed. Emma screamed now as he manipulated them, the driver saying something to him. Pointing to the traffic that was building rapidly in front as they came down the valley into Cairo. The earlier braking had already seen Tony and the boss pulling away and it seemed these two bastards were in no rush to get to the station as he laughed in reply. Mrs Cline would later describe this as ‘Traffic Tit Torment’ as she was fondled in time to the movement of the jeep. Any left turn and that breast would be grabbed. Go right and the other would get it. Braking or acceleration would get both nipples pinched and the girl was soon in agony, not knowing they’d been past the Police station at least three times already! Eventually he tired of this and she was roughly redressed. A sigh followed by a squeal as he let go, pushing Emma forward and her body slammed into the floor, banging the side of her face as she tried to brace for the impact. She was relieved when they pulled through an armoured gate and the jeep parked up. The door opened and her tormentor undid her leg cuffs then dragged Emma out. Marching her past a bunch of his mates, playfully slapping away at least two wandering hands that reached towards her. Arriving in what she assumed was the custody area of course her first intention was looking for Tony as she was made to stand in the corner.

Traffic

Sun, 11 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Lisa admired her machine. It consisted of a padded table and a motor with a single mechanical arm. The table had two heavy eye bolts attached - one in the front and one in the back, centered widthwise. Each of these had a short piece of heavy chain running through it - these were for attaching leather wrist and ankle cuffs. The center of the table was elevated, so when she lay on it her bottom was raised up. There was a heavy leather waist strap built into this raised portion. When she was bound to the table it was impossible for her to get free on her own. She would only be released after a timer, which she set beforehand, completed its countdown and lowered the keys she needed to unlock the wrist and ankle cuffs.

Beer Bottle Tops

Fri, 25 Sep 2015 00:00:00 +0000

My husband is a runner. Every morning he runs to the train station, four miles there and four miles back in the evening. He keeps several suits and shiny shoes at work and you can see him at half past seven in his Lycra. Today he wasn’t going to run home. I parked my car near to the station; you get two hours free in Aldi, although I wasn’t buying anything today. I kicked off my shoes, locked them in the boot and set off home, barefoot. 5pm and traffic was building up. I set a reasonable pace as I wanted to get home in an hour, although I was slowed a little by a few stretches where the Tarmac was rough. The last mile was through the park and I could have walked on the grass, but I didn’t. That would be defeating the object.

Karin's Jeans

Sun, 23 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000

Note: Added missing part of this story 24.09.15 here

Nick was delighted that she had invited him for dinner. Karin was a fantastic looking woman, about 25 years old, she had recently moved to the country from Stockholm. Like many Swedish women, she was tall, slim and had long blond hair. She dressed casually, typically wearing a pair of blue jeans that just seemed to hug her waist and really showed off her great figure.

A New Rope

Wed, 16 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000

A new rope, knotted at various spots. Each knot has a different torment. Capsaizin on some, Extra strength Ben-Gay on others, hot sauce on a few, and for some relief, lotion on a couple.

I added an eyebolt to the 2x6 holding the garage door track to the front of the garage.

I tied the rope to that eyebolt, and the other end to the entrance door handle to the house.

Going for the Record

Sun, 06 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Vacuum Duty

Sun, 30 Mar 2014 00:00:00 +0000

I stop as I walk across the carpet, noticing a few crumbs near the couch. My slave follows my gaze, and sighs when she sees them too. But she knows the rules, and starts removing her clothing without complaint as I go fetch the equipment. I return, carrying a box of supplies and pulling the vacuum cleaner behind me. She’s nude and crouching on the floor, ‘face down ass up’. I take the crop from the box and lay ten hard blows across her proffered ass. She can’t help but cry out for the last few strikes. “Sit up,” I command. She does. I take the thick, stiff, leather posture collar from the box, and secure it around her delicate neck. The gag is next. She groans when she sees that I’ve picked the gag she most hates. It’s a simple harness ball gag, but the ball is slightly too large, and it will pain her jaw long before her task is complete. But after all, this is meant to be a punishment. Her hands: I’ve decided to go with wrist cuffs instead of the bondage mittens. I fold her left arm behind her, wrap the cuff around her wrist, and tighten it. Then a thin leather strap, threaded through a ring on the cuff and the ring on the back of her collar. I pull it tight, drawing my little angel’s wing up behind her. I repeat with the the right hand, completing the reverse prayer. I’ve been enjoying the wrist cuffs lately more than the mittens, because I enjoy seeing her hands grab helplessly at the air as she works. I don’t think she realizes that they’re moving. “Turn around.” After she’s facing me, I examine the results. We have made a lot of progress lately. Her upper arms are nearly unseen. The strain of the position pushes her breasts proudly forward. I knead the soft globes, rolling her nipples between my fingers. Her nipples harden, and her breath quickens slightly–not from stimulation, but apprehension. There are several possibilities in the choice of nipple clips. Sometimes I leave her nipples unfettered. Just often enough that on each of these occasions, she can hope for it. Which option is it tonight? Clothespins. She’s stoic as I attach them. “Stand.” It always takes my breath away, how gracefully she moves in this situation. With her arms pinned behind her, standing should be a difficult test of balance. But she floats from the ground like a ballerina. I crouch down and secure the ankle cuffs, along with the 6 inch chain that will hobble her. Now the waist belt. Heavy leather drawn tight. It compresses her diaphragm, causing her breath to quicken again. I turn to grab the vacuum cleaner. When I turn back, her knees are splayed, ready for the next step. Attached to a swivel joint on the handle of the vacuum cleaner is a knobby rubber dildo. As I guide it into her waiting sex, I feel the wetness between her legs. Too bad the gag’s already in. I wipe my messy fingers off on her face so she’ll be smelling herself for awhile. It’s not like she needs to be reminded what a slut she is, but I like to do it anyway. Another pair of straps on either side of the dildo are soon loosely secured to rings on her waist belt. There is not enough slack that the dildo will fall out, but they’re loose enough that it has several inches of motion available. As she pushes and pulls the vacuum cleaner, the dildo will necessarily move in and out of her wet cunt, its knobby surface stimulating her silken walls. I turn the vacuum cleaner on. “OK, get to work.” She looks at me in surprise for a brief second, and then starts on her labor. “Oops, I almost forgot.” I say, as I pull the spreader bar out of the box. I secure it between her knees. It’s my little joke. I never forget :) Without the spreader bar, she could grip the handle of the vacuum cleaner between clenched thighs, and maneuver it around that way. With the spreader bar, the only real contact she has to the vacuum cleaner is via her wet pussy, wrapped around the dildo. Her hips sway forward and back as she gets to work. Back and forth goes the vacuum cleaner. In and out goes the dildo. She has to redo the whole floor when she’s missed a spot, to make sure she hasn’t missed any others. With the restrictions placed on her, it will take her at least an hour to redo the chore that only would have taken her 20 minutes unencumbered. “A stitch in time save nine,” I remind her. I give her another slap on the ass as I walk past her to my study. She grumbles something unintelligible into her gag and continues with her work.

Break Me!

Tue, 14 May 2013 00:00:00 +0000

I Need Help!!

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 00:00:00 +0000

I NEED HELP!!

I live in a nice quiet cul-de-sac where everybody knows their immediate neighbours and carries out little favours now and then. However your personal business is your own business, and it stays like that. Until recently.

My neighbours are fantastic people. Jeff and Debbie, a married and recently retired couple in their 60’s, living their retirement dream to the full. They are currently travelling, spending their children’s inheritance! My other neighbour is Andrea, a divorced woman in her mid 50’s, living on her own as her children are away at university. She works at the local school as a science teacher. Andrea is very friendly and chatty without being nosey. She has blonde hair, cut into a bob and looks and dresses well for her age. As for me, Tom, well I’m a divorced, 40 something, holding down a good job for the local council as an environmental inspector.

At the End of My Tether

Tue, 08 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

I didn’t intend this to be a cautionary tale, but it worked out that way. It just goes to show how experienced self-bondagers can still get “stuck”—in my case, through a series of incidents involving recklessness, false assumptions, and impatience.

My employer allows me to work from home on occasion. Now, if you have that kind of arrangement, I’m sure you have probably worked in whatever seemed comfortable to you—pajamas and slippers, old sweats, or—perhaps—nothing at all. I got the idea for my home work environment from an old union bargaining poster, that portrayed workers chained to their desks.

Not Just a Walk in the Park

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 00:00:00 +0000

This was bad. Really bad. And the worst part was knowing it was my own fault. Have a backup release, went the advice. Be careful. But no, I had to do it all wrong. No backup release. In a public place, or at least not a controlled location. I liked trees, and being tied to them. And being naked. Yeah, I got all that, and better get used to it.

The Rocking Chair

Fri, 26 Aug 2005 00:00:00 +0000

It had been a busy week and I was looking forward to a couple of days off. I cursed the swirling wind and driving rain as I hurried down the street towards home. How I envied Don who mainly worked from home and didn’t have to brave this foul weather and rush hour traffic five days a week. A final squall sent leaves scurrying down the street as I fumbled for the front door key. At last inside and in the warmth of the house, the weather could now do what it liked.

Outdoor Adventure

Tue, 20 Aug 2002 00:00:00 +0000

In my last story, I mentioned how I’d built a timer safe - I’ve been asked about how several times, so I’ve created a document with photos of the safe for those that want it - just drop me an email.

This time I thought I’d describe how I’ve taken inspiration from the other writers here…

I’ve always had a deep fascination of self bondage, and have devised many elaborate ways of restraint and release - however, it has almost exclusively involved being inside the house, or in very close proximity.

Emma's Entombment

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1

Emma's Entombment 2

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Emma’s Entombment)

Part 2

Emma's Entombment 3

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Emma’s Entombment 2)

Part 3

Emma's Entombment 4

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Emma’s Entombment 3)

Part 4

I, Masochist - Chapter 6: Ellen

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from I, Masochist - Chapter 5: Diane & David)

Chapter 6: Ellen

Chapter six of eight is W’s interview with “Ellen”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

WARNING SPECIFIC TO CHAPTER SIX OF EIGHT

This particular chapter deals with child abuse and the adult fall out from such abuse. Although it is essential to my look at masochism, it is not absolutely essential to the story. If you would be upset by the depiction of cruelty to minors (not sexual) then I would advise skipping this chapter.

Medieval Dungeon Party Part 2: The Nun's Fate

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Medieval Dungeon Party Part 1: Punishment for a Sinful Wench)_

Part 2: The Nun’s Fate

When I told you about what happened to me at our Medieval Bondage Party I promised to tell you about some of the things that happened to other people on that memorable night. Here is what happened to Rachel who arrived at the party dressed as a nun.

Rachel was the life and soul of any party. She always said that fat people were happy people – and she was a fat person! Rising no more than 5ft 4 above the floorboards she tipped the scales at about 170lb. She claimed that with her figure she would never need a car fitted with air bags! On the night of the party she breezed in dressed as a nun complete with the full headdress (including a wimple), the crucifix and the rosary beads. Questioned on her choice of dress she said that a nun’s habit was the only dress that did justice to her figure other than a bell tent. When she saw the rack at the end of the room her eyes lit up, “That’s just what I need. If you could make me about a foot taller I would not have to diet!” So it was she became the next victim to be stretched out on our latest acquisition – a very medieval looking rack.

My Summer Of Dares

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Many years ago my two girlfriends and I had the entire summer to get into trouble, and with the oldest of us having her own car to use, and an abandoned hospital complex within driving distance. We planned on exploring it as curiosity demanded, and a hundred other things before we went our separate ways in the fall. The first day we chose was rainy, and not suitable to work on our tans by my friend’s pool, although each of us had a good start on our bikini tan lines already.