Cell

6: Fallen Angels Trisha awoke from a restless sleep when she felt one of the walls of her padded prison open and a brightly lit corridor appeared behind it. She could hear voices and jumped to her feet. Ready to fight, she waited for Faluden’s henchmen to burst into her cell and overpower her, but her claws would not make it easy for them. “Come on, you cowards!” she shouted into the hallway, but no one answered her. Trisha frowned and licked her dry lips. She cautiously walked to the door and looked left and right into the hallway. Her cell was located at the end of a long corridor, and she could see other doors, but they were locked. The hallway itself was as clean as Celine’s laboratory and had been made of smooth white stone. She immediately thought that her sister was behind it. Trisha began to calm down. This was probably some kind of emergency shelter built by Celine, and her suit had brought Trisha here to escape the fireball. She put on a smile and walked toward a nearby corner in the hallway, behind which she could hear voices. ...

Kim’s Prison Part 1 - Kim’s Demon/Angel “…and as you can see…” the teacher said, looking around the class before her mouth formed into a thin line, “Miss Denvers. May I have your attention, please?” Immediately, all heads turned to the blonde girl in the back row, who continued to stare outside, bored. “Miss Denvers!” Still no response, and it was only when one of the students poked Kim in the ribs that she looked up. ...

Open and Closed Two weeks later and we were back in my basement. We had stayed in contact after her first visit, though she was hesitant to meet up again. I didn’t press the matter. If she needed time to work through what had happened, I was willing to be patient. Keeping our developing relationship low key turned out to be the right approach. Here she was once more, ready to explore the use, or misuse, of the various items in my collection. ...

The Collection “So, this is my collection.” I waved an arm around the room. Pegboards lined every wall. Hanging on hooks were the results of a lifetime’s obsession with my peculiar hobby. My guest didn’t reply to the introduction. Instead, she slowly made her way around the room, taking the full tour of everything on display. When she returned to the door, she looked up at me with a question. ...

The Beginning How did I get here? I’ve asked myself that question over and over. The answer is however quite obvious: I walked here all by myself – eyes open – no cohesion – no tricks. Like walking into a trap marked by all sorts of warning signs – believing that I could just take a peek inside – and get out before the trap closed. BAM! Or actually it was more than a sigh. I was caught. With no escape. And nobody to blame but my own stupidity. And my stubbornness. And believing I was smarter than everyone else. ...

The Halloween Dinner Belle pulled the mail from her box in the lobby, quickly sorting as she walked. There was the usual junk mail, a couple items for her roommate and a jet black envelope addressed to her. She felt a little flip flop in her chest as she read the return address. It was from Rick and Jill. As she entered the shared apartment Belle dropped the mail on the sideboard. Christina, her roommate would pick out what she wanted and discard the rest. For Belle, it was more important to slip into her bedroom and read the note from the couple who had so wonderfully and mercilessly tied her up. ...

33: Trapped in the Cursed Horny Jail With an amused smile, Kim stood over the dollhouse and reshaped its interior according to her wishes. At the same time, her mistress’s magic flowed through her body. It was an intoxicating feeling. An idea popped into her head, and she liked it. A wonderful punishment for her sex-addicted sister and a suitable prison for Celine’s sister. Trisha, that useless shifter. She had to be punished. ...

2: The (un)willing test pilots The Gritek Industries Research Center loomed menacingly over the outskirts of Newhaven. As a technology leader in micro-robotics and nanotechnology, top secret tools for security technology and military appliances are being developed here… as far as the company management was concerned. “No no no!” Cassandra Adela von Rabensprung’s annoyed voice echoed through Test Hall C. “Charm, elegance, Grazie! This is supposed to be a promotional video, not a horror movie! Nobody will invest in us if you keep flopping across the floor like a fish out of water. Let’s start over again!” ...

Part Two *CLANG CLANG CLANG* “Time to get up girls, I have your breakfast and your outfits for the day. Once you’ve eaten and dressed we will begin your morning exercise routine, Master Lenix will be returning this evening so you must be prepared for his inspection,” Charles announced from the other side of the cell doors. A week had passed since Hana and I were first brought to the Lenix estate, and the reality of our new lives had slammed into us day one. Shortly after Hana’s forced video session he had dragged her away for the night while his butler Charles had escorted me to my cell. The cell itself wasn’t too bad, but the cold steel bars and the heavy lock were a constant reminder of my captivity. ...

Long Weekend Preparation* Another long weekend all to himself, and the time to indulge in his favorite hobby, if that term applied. Three days to enjoy the benefits of enforced leisure, without a care in the world. Best of all there would be no interruptions while he decompressed from months of built-up stress. His capacity for patience wasn’t high, which would normally be a complication when attempting to calm the soul with some introspective meditation. That might be difficult for others, but he had found a way to guarantee his focus would not stray. Thanks to both modern and centuries old technology he had developed a solution that was infallible. ...

Part 4 “You have a…list,” I asked incredulously as I took another bite of what was supposed to pass for scrambled eggs. “Yep, first thing I’m going to do is get Lacie somewhere safe, then I’m going to find my way back home and get the inheritance I am owed from my uncle and then… then I’m going to find that bastard Lenix and burn his estate to the ground, preferably with him still in it,” Bunny murmured, her voice filled with a fiery determination as she stared daggers at the food tray on her lap. ...

Ch.6 First Day of Training pt.2: Rented Out “And how shall we prepare these lovely women for you, Mr. Anderson?” called out Dominic, his voice loud and clear, like the voice of an announcer at a sporting event. He had the crowd enthralled. “You don’t happen to have those dollsuits you sell at the Dollhouse available at the club by any chance, do you?” asked Clay with a wicked grin on his face. ...

‘Section 15.18 The Submissive agrees to service or be sexually used by any person or persons of the Dominant’s choosing. Such encounters may include participation of multiple people at a time if that so pleases the Dominant. The Submissive will be bound, restrained and blindfolded during these encounters and this is by the Submissive’s expressed request and consent. _The Submissive explicitly grants his permission to be sexually used and abused by those individuals invited by the Dominant to take part in the activities with the Submissive, and furthermore, the Submissive grants his permission for those individuals to complete such acts on the Submissive while the Submissive is bound, restrained and/or blindfolded.* ...

Part 4 …With the door closed and securely bolted behind me I stood there with my nose to the cool and thick concrete wall for a few additional seconds; surreal would be an understatement, but then again I actually chose this option. A minute is not very long at all to sort out my new temporary holding cell in the coming pitch blackness either, but what’s coming can’t be called a surprise either. Bucket in the corner, water bottles next to it, and the coarse wool blanket at the foot of my improvised bed, the simple pillow at the head. I’ve arranged for my head to be furthest from the door rather reflexively, not sure why though. I’m not exactly tired either, more amped up I’d say, heart pounding in my chest and all. The feeling is near-sexual for me, my body reflexively readying itself for “something.” ...

Week One - Day 1 - Monday Chapter 1: The Binding Dawn The summer sun draped the manor grounds in a thick golden haze, its warmth seeping through the stable’s weathered slats. Hay dust hung in the air, glinting like tiny embers in the slanted light, settling softly on the packed dirt floor. Brynlee, in her mid-30s, with sharp yet warm green eyes and raven hair tied back in a loose braid, leaned against a stall door, arms crossed over her leather vest. She’d been at it since dawn—forking out soiled straw, brushing down the horses until their coats gleamed, her jeans now smudged with stable grit. The work grounded her, a steady pulse beneath her restless energy, but her gaze kept flicking to the stable entrance. She was waiting—for her. ...

30: The Sarah Games Jenkins estate, outside Leon City Sarah opened the sarcophagus and it hissed softly as oxygen flowed into it from under the lid. Immediately she could hear her two guests take a deep breath and start coughing. “Welcome home,” Sarah whispered in amusement and threw the lid aside, which fell to the floor with a loud bang. Ava and Summer, who were still squashed in the sarcophagus, winced in shock. Ava in particular groaned loudly as the bruises from the abduction began to hurt. ...

Part 3 …That heavy steel door is the only way in or out, the concrete walls at least a foot thick - at least based on the depth of the threshold itself - and even with just the single unlocked door latch holding it closed I was pretty much a prisoner in a jail cell; solitary-confinement style. I called out to Alice, telling her I was stuck, but I had low expectations of actually being heard as the room itself felt like it absorbed my voice. I also remember seeing five very strong industrial-type hinges on the outside of that door, so it was obviously heavier than any ordinary interior door that closing its significant mass a few moments earlier with an ear-popping thud had confirmed. Even without hearing my call for rescue Alice knows where I am though, so it should only be a matter of time until she checks on me and rescues me; or so I hope. ...

Part 2 …My improvised cutting-board paddle was only so bad, even with the surprisingly strong Alice wielding it, but what was most profound for me was laying my naked-self across her lap like a naughty child to receive my punishment; I’m talking serious flashbacks back towards my naughty-years youth. The sound was more intimidating than the sting itself - just as it was back then with Mrs. Henderson - but Alice was setting the obvious precedent of corporally punishing me for even minor social misbehavior, therefore correcting my bad behavior, not truly wishing to physically injure me. She had held her left hand firmly between my shoulder blades while her right did the deed with a near-athletic efficiency and follow-through, telling me this wasn’t the first time she had ever paddled a naughty adult. I didn’t know exactly what to do with my hands during my punishment either, but I had a pretty good idea what not to do with them! So in short, I wasn’t left crying like a little boy by the time Alice was done with me, but I most certainly wasn’t laughing either… ...

The Select Bank headquarters slouches toward the riverbank, nothing like its competitors’ skyscrapers in the core of downtown a couple miles away. The office we’re sitting in, though, is just as sleekly appointed as any of its counterparts I’ve seen in the last four months. Below the huge windows of the top-floor office, its strip of landscaping gives way to the tangle of undeveloped land it neighbors. I’m sure the clientele appreciates the privacy. The river here is wide and sluggish, a single small boat picking its way upstream. ...

Part 4: Coup Carol was vacuuming the floor of one of her clients as she had been for a while since coming back to her Queen. She was wearing her traditional pink and white maid uniform. Her white stocking tops barely reached the petticoats under her skirt. Her pink ballet boots were locked on and had become a permanent part of all the maids’ uniforms. Her wrists and ankles were locked in leather cuffs with eight-inch chains in between. ...

Part 1 Laura had been looking forward to the escape room for weeks! She’d heard about the new escape room place that had just opened last month called Locked in Escapes. So far, the reviews she’d heard of the place were great, and there was one room that her and her roommate Judy had their eye on. It was called Lady Crimson’s Dungeon; it was the toughest room offered by Locked In and they couldn’t wait to try it out! Also being college students, it fit within their budget, and they figured it would be a fun way to spend a Friday night. ...

…“What do you want to do for Halloween THIS year dear?” I asked my significant other. “I’ve got nothing, literally not a clue,” he responded back. I feel the same way to be honest, so I can’t find fault, I’m just not into it at all this year particularly. We simply don’t get near the volume of trick-or-treaters like we used to back before covid; there used to be easily a hundred, but last year that number was maybe fifteen total, to include the little ones on our block and their precious costumes though. It was at one time a great way to get reacquainted with the neighbors, just a fun party-like night, but if last year was any sign of the times we knew it would be all over shortly after dusk, and we’d be left with far too much extra candy in the house… ...

Dime In Change The Next Weekend* Friday afternoon, while the building was emptying fast, Roy casually walked by Dale’s cubicle to say hello and ask if she would like to go to dinner. “I’d love to,” came her expected reply. She took a deep breath before risking it all. “What about a weekend instead of a dinner?” How would he react at her being so forward? Roy wasn’t stupid; he’d see all the implications in that question. ...

Chapter 25 – Sex Toy Catalog Lucija had suggested that our company’s sex toy catalog pictures, both for the web and print, were sterile. They were just pictures of our products sitting on tables or against solid backdrops. “They show the products clearly, but they don’t incite the imagination of the customers,” she argued. “Besides, we should be using short video clips, especially on the more complex electronic products.” “But we don’t have the sets, lighting or photo equipment to take the kind of shots you are suggesting.” I countered. ...

Chapter 21 – Another Demerit Trial When I checked the security camera’s later that afternoon, Lucija and Paula had tied the slut’s left ankle to her left thigh, holding her left foot up to her ass. They had her standing on just her right foot. Her wrists were in suspension cuffs, I guess Lucija didn’t want any more handcuff marks. Her arms were pulled back in a strappado and tied high up on the bars. If they had tied her in this position right after I sent them downstairs, she would have been in this stressful position for about 20 minutes. I was about to get worried when I checked another camera angle and saw Paula, sitting just out of the cell, watching the slut carefully. Well, I wanted them to take the slut’s mind off her troubles. I was quite sure she wasn’t thinking about anything except when Paula was going to let her down. ...

Part 1 Mr. Info was delighted with his shift today. Thanks to his posters, some very bad accidents had once again been avoided and dangerous artifacts safely stowed away. Although the DSO was still a little suspicious of his warnings, more and more employees were grateful for his help, be it through a “Caution, release leads to the dollification of all of Louisiana” or a “Caution freshly wiped” poster. Mr. Info shook his head in amusement as he scurried from one poster to the next, remembering the clumsy mouse girl, Heidi, who almost slipped when she read the latter. ...

Chapter 16 – Tim in Trouble & Heath into Paula Lucija and Tim’s relationship was about to take another turn anyway. A new shipment of fabric had come into the port; Lucija picked it up and brought it by the chateau during a break in classes on Tuesday when Tim wasn’t expecting her. When Lucija walked down to the Cellar, Tim had Heather bent over the cutting table, his pants down around his ankles, and was six inches into her ass and pumping hard. He had pulled her hands behind her back painfully twisting her shoulders almost to dislocation. He was using her arms as handles to yank Heather back into his dick so violently that he was bruising her wrists. ...

As I walk into my garage I hold out the lamp and peer into the darkness that crowds round its feeble light. The whole garage smells of oil and petrol and paraffin. A faint whiff of perfume lingers in the air, not a smell I get in here as it’s not really a woman’s place. Old Mrs Duffin from the farm came down with her van now and again but she smelt of cows and horses. ...

Chapter 13 – Lucija Takes Charge of Tim It was almost dinnertime so when I finished my 47th e-mail of the day I stopped work and went to find Maggie again.” “Are you going to take Lucija her clothes back, it’s almost dinner time?" I asked. “Wasn’t planning on it,” she said, handing me the handcuff keys from her pocket. “What are these for?" I asked. “I wasn’t planning to go back downstairs. Why don’t you go down and release her.” She said with a smile. ...

Chapter 12 – Lucija Learns to Suck Cock A few days later, on one of her usual days, I noticed Lucija had arrived but then I didn’t see her around. On a hunch I checked the Wine Cellar security cameras. It’s amazing how people completely forget cameras are present. I guess it’s because they are everywhere nowadays, we just don’t think about them. Anyway, on the camera was Lucija, tied on her knees in front of the Blow Job Trainer that was mounted to the cell bars sucking for all she was worth. Maggie was kneeling next to her talking, Heather handcuffed to the bars. ...

Chapter 11 – Lucija Becomes Family Lucija never talked about her time with Heather, but she did start spending several hours a week in the cellar, just talking, and learning from Heather. She even asked Paula to put her on the Dominant in Charge rotation, but Paula convinced her she wasn’t experienced enough with domination. She was allowed to take meals down, give Heather hose baths and help in other ways as time went on. ...

Chapter 10 – Hiring Lucija As I headed back to my apartment for the night, Lucija called. I was a little surprised but kept cool. “OK, can you meet me at my parents’ house at 7, you can talk to my father then, not that it will do you a lot of good,” she said. “I’ll be there,” was all I said. At 7pm I rolled up to an older home but one befitting the mayor. Lucija and her mother were sitting on the front porch, obviously waiting for me. Her mother was an attractive, trim woman, I’m guessing in her mid to late 40’s. She reacted shyly but smiled warmly as Lucija introduced her. I couldn’t help but wonder how much Lucija had already told her and if I had an ally or adversary. ...

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.” ...

Chapter 8 – Tormenting The Slut “So,” I asked Paula, “Do you still consider yourself a switch?” “I haven’t subbed in years,” she said thoughtfully, “but yeah, for the right person, maybe.” “Let’s go see what’s happening downstairs,” I suggested. When we got to the wine cellar, Maggie had taken the old chair and put it outside the bars right in front of Heather. She was sitting there lightly rubbing the tip of the vibrator against Heather’s clit, which was sticking out prominently between the crotch ropes. Heather was already starting to sweat. ...

Chapter 7 – Settling In At dinner, everyone was talking about their day. The whole group had really started to settle into their life at the chateau. You can only do so much laying around on the beach before even that becomes boring. Carl had discovered the internet connection was indeed fast enough to allow him to code and he had been learning and playing with the latest updates in HTML5 and Ruby on Rails. When I showed him my sex toys e-commerce site, he had several great ideas for improving the user interface. So, I gave him the backend passwords, negotiated a price and he went at it. Now he spent almost all his time with his head buried in his laptop, even when he went to the beach. ...

Pat(ty) My given name is Patrick. I’m twenty-three, I’m into self-bondage, and I’m a cross-dresser. Not all the time, you understand; I have to work for a living, but cross-dressing is my fetish, and for lack of interest in almost anything else, my one hobby. I’m sure that I probably spend more time and money shopping for shoes & clothes than the average female, but it’s what I like. I’m lucky that I have a body that lends itself to female attire; I’m five feet eight inches tall and slender, at one hundred thirty pounds. My almost-black hair is cut in a ‘page-boy’ style, which I hide by wearing it pulled up into a ‘man-bun’ or up under a hat. With my hair down and make-up on, I’m quite passable as a girl and I often go out dressed as one. I’m not gay, but I love flirting with men while I’m dressed in something sexy. ...

Chapter 5 – A Bondage Orgy Preparation Now that I was largely caught up on the events in the cellar by watching the camera feeds, I closed the tablet and went to find Paula. I found her in the kitchen chopping ingredients to go make a salad to go with the steaks. “Ever played with hoods?” I asked, unpacking the stuff I bought at the bondage store. “Yeah,” she answered, “but my local dungeon in London didn’t have one that nice. That looks custom made.” ...

Chapter 3 – Sex on the Beach The roofers were making good progress patching and replacing tiles. I watched them for a while after lunch. Then I helped Tim, Cradic and Reese move all the ivy they had pulled off the walls into the dumpster the Roofers had rented. We also moved a bunch of other limbs, branches, and trash into the dumpsters. By the time we finished it was late afternoon and we were all sweaty. The chateau didn’t have hot water (yet, I’ll have to work on that) so Reese suggested we get some wine, cheese, crackers, and all go down to the beach. ...

*Part 11944 _>_My beloved Trisha,* It’s December in 1944… I’m afraid I don’t know what day it is… they blur together. I sit in my hiding place and can only wait for my informant to show up. I really hope he doesn’t have anything that requires my attention. Nice guy. Yes, regrettably a bit curious too. Part of the job, I guess. Sometimes I wish you were with me and yet I’m glad you’re not. We really need to get here when you are back and the war is over… both should be soon. At least I hope so… ...

Chapter 2 – The Prisoner Heather had been SO close, so fucking close. If Paula had given her one more minute with that penis vibrator! She spent several frantic moments after the lights went out, trying to rub her orgasm to completion. Being locked in the dungeon of her fantasies, in the dark, even having been slapped, was all making Heather very wet. But she had been telling me the truth on our first meeting. Without something filling her vagina and pressing against her G Spot, no amount of clitoral stimulation would get Heather off. Most women she knew were the opposite, they had no chance of getting off from just vaginal stimulation. Heather had spent her adult life trying to get off with just her fingers and never succeeded. She was SO fucking horny. ...

Chapter 1 – Inheritance The inheritance was a complete surprise. I knew he had family in Croatia but all contact with them had been lost during the Communist era when Croatia was a part of Yugoslavia. That’s why the registered letter from an attorney in Zagreb was met with considerable suspicion. Was this another Nigerian Prince scam? But it was a registered letter. And it wasn’t asking me for my bank account number or anything. And it had believable details, like a copy of the deed that I could verify online. ...

It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now Colleen felt like an idiot. No, worse than an idiot. She felt like an impulsive child, and that feeling embarrassed her more than any feelings of being labeled an idiot. As the van drove away and left her by her SUV on the side of the interstate, Colleen thought about what led him to this embarrassing place. Colleen Bens was a 27-year-old police detective, who was currently assigned to the Missing Persons Unit in the Jacksonville Police Department in Jacksonville, Florida. She joined the agency after she graduated from the University of Florida with a degree in Criminal Justice and a minor in Psychology. Colleen was also a three sports player all four years while at school, playing softball, volleyball and basketball. ...

Chapter 47: Puppy Maggie Finds an Owner Leon had been a farmer all his life, and since he had married Lou, who the family called Gran, they had two adjacent farms to keep up with. Leon knew, at 70, that he couldn’t farm the land himself, so he quickly leased his and Lou’s fields to another farmer in the county who was happy to cultivate them. His old farmhouse Leon rented to a young man whose family he had known for years. Stewart had gone to the University of Alabama and studied agriculture and farm management but seemed content to run a small contracting and handyman service. Leon and Gran both liked him and used his services around their house and farm for anything they could no longer handle due to age. Of course, Bob and Fred, Gran’s son-in-law and Grandson-in-law were both willing to help with chores or projects when they were around. But there was still a lot to keep Stewart busy around the place and it seemed he was always there one or two days a week. It didn’t hurt that Gran fed him a home cooked meal anytime he was around. ...

Chapter 46: Puppy Maggie Clair and Fred rarely disagreed and almost never argued. In fact, Clair couldn’t remember a time when she or Fred had raised their voices to each other. But they did have a respectful disagreement about pets. Clair wanted a dog; Fred would compromise on a goldfish. “We can’t keep up with a pet while we’re in college. Besides, The Married Dorm is no place for a pet,” He would argue. ...

Chapter 43: Crucifixion Picnic, Prelude Peggy noticed that Jenni was in her office cubicle alone for a change, so she decided this might be a good time. “Hea, boss, got a minute?” Jenni looked up, “Oh, yea, take a seat Peggy, what’s up?” “I assume we’re doing the usual company picnic on the 4th?” Peggy asked. “Un hu, Jerri started planning it before she lost this month’s election, so she’s still working on it from the cell. Why?” ...

Thomas tosses another log into the firepit and grins with a boozy delight as it sends a cloud of sparks flying high up in the chilly autumn air. Susan pulls her feet underneath her body and draws her hands up into her sleeves in a futile effort to keep them warm. “…Catherine was only 16-years-old when the villagers came for her,” Lucy continues her story. “But most shockingly, it was her brother, the new Earl of Osterley, who strode at the front of the howling mob. The torch in his fist would likely have sent sparks flying… not unlike our firepit just now, I suppose. Did the Earl believe the tales about his younger sister? Or was this a convenient way for him to increase his share of the family’s fortune?” ...

…I laid in bed, not quite awake, my mind slowly coming online after one of the most kinky dreams of my life, and that was saying something as I had been having some wild ones lately. My husband Greg had left early on another of his extended business trips, he was taking as much work as he could handle lately as we had a new home and mortgage that was truthfully just a bit intimidating. ...

Getting There The scenery outside the airplane window was empty desert, punctuated with the equally desolate mountain ranges. The small twin-engine plane was a four seater, with the pilot in front and Darla in the back. After leaving the civil airport in Ontario, outside Los Angeles, she was able to track their progress eastward until they reached the Mojave Desert. At that point she was lost. The landscape below them was a featureless expanse of rock, gravel and sagebrush. There were no roads, either paved or dirt, to indicate anyone had ever been down there. Their destination was definitely off the beaten track, though it made sense since Mr. G’s establishment required isolation in order to exist. ...

10: Best Catburglar/Kidnapper Ever III “I… I can’t get in!” hissed Maike, banging her fist on the desk. Her laptop and the screen of the computer she was trying to hack bounced into the air. “Wow, calm down first. Well, then it’s well protected, that didn’t stop you before.” Jade said with her arms folded behind her head, spinning boredly in her office chair. “Jade, look around! This is a toddler’s room! How can the computer be better protected than my own!” ...

The Half Dollar* “This place was last used as a County Sheriff’s substation back in the 1960s. When the factory shut down just about everyone on this end of the valley left for greener pastures. Most of the old buildings around here were torn down in the 80’s when there was a big environmental push to return the land to original prairie. There isn’t enough water for farms, so all that’s left are a few houses and this place. When I bought it at auction it was in rough shape but over the years I’ve been able to restore the building to as near authentic as I can, from old pictures.” ...

Part 9 Down in the dungeon, her prisoner had had altogether too much thinking time; strapped along the bondage horse, exhausted, sore and unable to move after his cropping; there hadn’t been much else to do. The problem was that in his previous life, before accepting his Goddess’ collar and now surrendering to her his free will, body and soul in perpetuity, safeword-free, he had always been something of an over-thinker. This is not good when you have nothing but thinking time and your free-will has been given over to another, and that other is making way more of it than you thought her capable of. The identity of these “new friends” she had mentioned, who had taught her about administering pain, and their possible other influences on his Goddess was turning his mind inside out, and back to front. She hadn’t been in the scene, or known much about BDSM until meeting him, and he wasn’t aware of any local acquaintances - kinky or vanilla - so who WERE they? ...

Part Four Well, you find me back down in the castle dungeon in one of the cells, and currently I’m bound face down and semi-naked across the width of an old torture bench, though this time I’m not here for public viewing, I think that the guests have finally all left for the day, though I seem to have lost track of time at the moment. Nobody, other than Hanna and Kate know where I am, hidden out of sight of the general public; I had been bound here earlier in the day, at my request, for something that I’ll explain later. But you can guess that I was currently enjoying my present situation, my love of bondage and restriction should be well known to you all by now. ...

My name is Amanda. I’m 34 years old, 1.65 m, and 62 kg. I’m fit (hot), with big breasts, strong legs, and a thin waist. I’ve always fantasized about being trapped in prison full of handcuffs and restraints. However, I wanted a safe and controlled environment. I heard about BDSM Paradise, a remote island in the Caribbean, from a friend, and I immediately became interested. I got in touch and received a quote and a form to fill out. The price was too high, but I could afford it (thanks to a nice inheritance I received). The form was quite long, with personal details, medical details, and a list of what they offered, and I would have to mark what I preferred. The list was as follows: ...

My thong-split ass perches on the edge of the high stool and I watch as Blayne goes through a mess of electric cables and plugs on the floor. He’s trying to find a free socket to get some power for the device. I’m half way between excited and nervous! I’m already pretty uncomfortable being so underdressed in front of Blayne, but what he’s about to do to me next is another level. ...

Chapter 2 – A game most serious The dungeon is dimly lit, and the walls are damp and cold, giving the girls a chill as they walk. Laura is acutely aware of the chains connecting their collars, which force them to move in unison. Jessica is tense and nervous, knowing that her friends’ fates are tied to her own. Sarah on the other hand is excited by the prospect of what is to come. As they walk, Alice instructs them to mind their footing and to remain silent, warning them not to disobey the rules of the dungeon. ...

Part 3: Next Day Kelly woke as Beth released the rope that held in her a tight hogtie. Kelly groaned in relief as her stiff legs could finally straighten even if they were still tied together. Kelly was still exhausted and sore from yesterday but there was no rest for the weary as Beth pulled the vibrator whose batteries died hours ago from Kelly’s ass. Kelly grunted as it came out and felt a sense of emptiness even though her ass was quite sore. Beth did not disappoint Kelly too long as she grabbed the plug from last night. It was clean now and Beth mercilessly shoved it into Kelly’s ass. Kelly screamed out but Beth gave Kelly a solid slap on her ass that caused her bound body to buck. ...

Chapter 23: Cell, Team Parties At the Magnolia Tea Room, Karen requested a table in the back corner where the tennis teammates could talk in peace. Once they were seated Carmen said, “OK, Spill the beans!” Jill looked around at the three women, her best friends since college, and pondered what and how much to tell them. She noticed, for the first time, that Carmen had a pretty gold chain around her neck with a heart shaped padlock. She must have put that on after showering. ...

Chapter 22: Cell, Cleaning and Tennis After letting Jill rest for about an hour, Helen took one of her new creations down to the cell. It had only taken her a few minutes with the equipment at Schwartz Iron Works to make a full body chain that worked with the cuffs and collar that Bob had previously commissioned from Shwartz. When she took the chains down, Jill had fallen asleep on her bed, so Helen ran the chains along the cell bars making a clanking sound. ...

Chapter 20: Cell, New Toys Helen took the Hitachi with her and dropped it on Bob’s workbench on her way upstairs. First, she dropped by her bathroom to take a leak and use a wet washcloth to clean her and Jill’s fluids off her genitals. She also stopped in the kitchen to fix a quick sandwich before heading back to Bob’s shop in the basement. The lumber store had ripped the sheet of plywood in half longwise into two 2 X 8-foot sheets. Back in the workshop she used the table saw to cut one of these halves into 2 X 4-foot sheets. She found Bob’s hole saws and selected the size just slightly smaller than the Hitachi vibrators head. ...

Chapter 19: Cell, Helen Moves In Authors Note: These chapters will make almost no sense if not read in order. If you haven’t, I strongly suggest you go back to the introduction and chapter 1. Bev and Helen showed up about 2pm on Sunday. Bev came to drive the Truck back to Schwartz after Helen moved but she also wanted to see the finished Cell since Helen had done all the final work. Bob heard the truck pull up and greeted them at the front door. Bev was wearing the Schwartz Iron works standard uniform coveralls, but it was Helen that Bob was taking in. ...

Chapter 18: Cell, The Jill Keeper After Helen accepted the position of ‘Jill Keeper’, Bob asked, so when do you want to start? “Can I come around Sunday Afternoon and bring my stuff. Then I can spend Sunday night here and start Monday morning?” Helen asked. “Works for us!” Bob responded. “We probably have some more details to go over if you have time?” “Awww, let me show Helen her room first!” said Jill, still very excited. ...

Chapter 17: Cell, Helen’s Job Offer Jill had been thinking all day. She was excited that Bob had kept her locked in the cell since Friday night. She had blown him Friday night after he had abused her nipples with some nasty alligator clips he picked up at the hardware store. Bob found them in the electrical department and bought them when he couldn’t stand to clamp them on his little finger for more than a few seconds. ...

Chapter 15: Cell, Jill Cheats on Bob The projects with the Schwartz Iron works continue and Jill discovers she may be bisexual. Enjoy. After a few weeks, Bev called to tell Jill they had the decorative gate done and ask if Jill would like to drop by their workshop and see it. Jill was so excited she was over within an hour. Helen saw her coming and took her back to Bev’s corner of the shop. Jill was amazed at the work of art Bev had created but Helen was amused that Jill kept stealing glances towards the door to their living quarters. ...

Chapter 14: Cell, The Order It was the third of the following month before Jenni could schedule a visit. When she showed up at Jill’s front door, Jill was excited to get her fence project started. “Hi Jenni, any problem finding the house?” Jill asked. “No problem at all, and it’s Jerri.” Jerri replied, “Guess who lost the election this month!” “Oh,” Jill realized with twins you couldn’t make assumptions. ...

Chapter 13: Cell, Schwartz Iron Works Life was good for Jill and Bob since Clair had gone off to college. Jill’s weight was under control thanks to regular walks and rejoining her tennis team. Bob was also building a reputation at work as an outstanding salesperson, and one who went out of his way to help others. Bob never hesitated to coach or help younger or less experienced salespersons. It was obvious to both management and his coworkers that Bob was more concerned with the company’s success than his own. ...

Day 1 Plan B Barbara Manning tossed the rejection form letter onto the table. It wasn’t unexpected; she knew in advance her chances of being accepted were poor. Still, it was a disappointment. Based on her research the Facility would have been the ideal place to achieve her dream. Now she’d have to move on to her “Plan B”, the closest alternative she could find. There were the standard routes endorsed by the South Island government: apprentice to a company; enter into the first phase of a standard agreement; or for a lucky few being accepted by the Facility. The last option was now out of reach. The company route was the least attractive option, since it might take years to reach the same stage as a standard agreement. And for a standard agreement she needed a second party, which brought her back to the original problem: there was no second party. Both approaches were far too slow and cautious for her taste. And neither really addressed her underlying need. ...

Craig woke up with a start as a cold shiver ran through him! “What time is it?” was his first thought, it was obviously still dark outside, there was no light leaking in around the curtains. And why wasn’t Bobbi in bed? Oh yea, this was Saturday, she was still locked in the cell in their basement “playroom”. Craig sat up on the side of the bed… and floated slowly up towards the ceiling. ...

Part 8 Chapter 22: Strange feelings The days passed, and I was so comfortable and enjoying my commitment at the hospital that it was hard to remember what it was like to be on the outside. I asked Amanda about this feeling. Amanda told me it was pretty typical. “They call this effect institutionalization. But not to worry and enjoy the feeling. It will soon go away when you get out and return to the real world.” The odd thing was I was starting to feel the real world was a lot more frightening than here in the hospital. ...

It’s Saturday night, and by now most girls are looking forward to have sex with the men (or women) in their lives. For most, that would be regular vanilla sex. But not for me. Not anymore. Ever since my current boyfriend, Carl introduced me to the joys of bondage and discipline and made me his submissive. I now crave what I once considered perverted and degenerate. My name is Sabah Jenkins, and tonight I’m twenty-six years old. I have black hair and eyes, I’m 5 foot 4 inches tall and weigh 120 lbs. I have a nice body, with modest breasts, a thin waist, and a firm bum. ...

The Plan She had planned it all very carefully. The time, the location, weather, equipment, even the phase of the moon for light; everything was perfect. Now she faced the one last decision to put her plan into action, the final moment at which she could stop, back out, and change her mind. Little did she realize how a simple weekend outing would turn into an adventure that profoundly changed her life. ...

Here I am, kneeling on the cross on the floor in my new cell, waiting for my mistress. It is 5 minutes until 10 am. I am dressed in a satin black and white maids outfit, a corset that was made for me, I had put it on this morning and tightened it the best I could, my waist is constricted to 30 inches, but the corset can be tightened to reduce my waist to 24 inches. The corset has 8 suspenders to hold up the black seamed stockings that I am wearing, covered by the 4” heels that are locked on with padlocks, the keys are upstairs. I am wearing a stainless steel cock cage, this is small and if I attempt to get an erection quickly become uncomfortable. This has been locked on for the last week on mistress’s instructions, the absence of some relief has been driving me mad. ...

Part 7 Chapter 19: All wrapped up in research The lights came on in my cell, and Patti walked in. “Hi Mr. Murphy, how are you on this fine morning?” “Good!” I said. “Well, it’s a big day for you, going for another wet pack. Are you excited?” Patti asked. “Well, excited and a little scared,” I said. “Well, you liked your last one, didn’t you?” Patti asked. “It was interesting last time, but this time it’s for a whole week!” I said. ...

Part 6 Chapter 15: The long drive home We drove towards the state hospital. A few minutes after setting out Cathy pulled into a roadside drive-through. The girls ordered some food to go for themselves and we pulled out as soon as they collected their order. I said, “Hey, what about me?” “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Murphy, we have food drinks in the ice chest for you!” said Kelly. They drove a little farther down the road and pulled over at a roadside rest stop. There were a few picnic tables under some big trees. Cathy pulled the van up by one of the picnic tables and stopped. Kelly announced that we were going to have a picnic. Cathy took the food and drinks and set them on the table, while Kelly opened the sliding door. I obviously stayed sitting, strapped down in my chair. ...

Part 5 Chapter 12: Packing up the old life (Or now you see him, now you don’t) Over the next few days, there was not too much to report for me, as I was secured to my bed, except for being taken to the shower room and showered once, so the days started running together. However, other plans were being laid for me by my girlfriend and my doctor at Amanda’s home. ...

…You never know what life will throw at you, case in point my next customer was apparently new in town, and wanted an alarm system for her fine new home. This wasn’t “my town,” and wasn’t some cookie cutter Mc-mansion in a sub-division either, but a beautiful massive stone building way out in farm country that reeked of wealth, both the original owner’s well over a hundred and fifty plus years earlier, and apparently this older woman’s who was to be my next customer. The stone construction was timeless, and I like the aesthetics of such buildings personally, my own humble stick constructed home - that wasn’t really mine any longer - almost certainly dust one day, where this fine home will still likely be standing long after we’re all gone. ...

Continues from chapter 28 29 It’s been perhaps three months since that day. Untold weeks on Level 8 followed by the return to my beloved ’normal’ life at the ICRI. The first night after my release was particularly poignant, with an emotional welcome home from our Matron, the Warden of Sublevel 2. We both had a good cry as her big white rubber arms squeezed me as though to never let me leave again. I felt almost like the prodigal daughter although of course we both knew that I had taken no initiative in my departure. I could, in hindsight, have hastened my return but we all need to learn our lessons at our own pace. I guess I’m kind of slow. ...

Chapter 1 Dori was a twenty five year old administrative assistant at a mid-sized company. Her given name was Doris, after her grandmother but from a young age, she had insisted on Dori. Who names their child Doris in this day and age? Her name sounded like she was a seventy year old grandmother. Though not unattractive, Dori was not a popular girl, nor did she make herself up or wear clothes that drew attention to her womanly curves. Though her light brown hair was lovely, her well-formed hips and full C cup breasts were nearly hidden under her conservative clothing. Her soft curls framed a lovely face with pink lips and expressive brown eyes. Her makeup was understated and she always kept her head down and barely looked at anyone around her unless they were directly in her path or she was talking to them as required for her job. She was shy and didn’t go out of her way to talk to anyone, though she did have friends, they were few, and not part of the popular crowd. ...

Chapter 3 (part 2): Compelled Into Bondage Charlotte had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed since Annette had taken her into Mistress Jaclyn’s Dungeon. She had given up wearing a watch long ago, dependent on her phone for the time. She would rise from the cot, and pace back in forth in the jail cell, her steps limited by her ankle chain. Twelve inches did not allow for a great deal of movement, but then again, she was now confined behind steel bars. Charlotte would try again and again to open the door, but naked flesh was no match for cold steel. ...

Chapter 6 (part 2): A New World Two and a half weeks after Mistress Jaclyn had called to say goodbye leaving Charlotte emotionally shattered, the package arrived from the lawyer. In addition, there was another item that she would have to sign for. Charlotte had signed for both at the Post Office Saturday morning, since they were unable to deliver them Friday while she had been at work. The box was something that she had been expecting; and Charlotte wondered what the separate letter contained. ...

Chapter 6 (part 1) - The Sacrifice In the days after the departure of Boris and Arkady, suddenly Sir Ian took a new interest in Davinia. Previously, he had left most of her training to Lady Samantha. But now, with his two guests gone, Davinia became the center of his attentions. Davinia and Erin shared a jail cell in their slavery, and one morning, Erin was taken away by Lady Samantha. Her wrists had been locked behind her back, and a red ball-gag placed between her lips. Lastly, Lady Samantha had locked a leash to Erin’s collar, and her companion was led away to whatever fate awaited her! ...

Chapter 5 (part 1) - Lady Samantha and the Lash Davinia knelt naked in front of Lady Samantha in the Dayroom; her hands held behind her back, but unlocked. As a slave, that was the position she had learned to assume in front of her Master and Owner. In the months that Davinia had been taken prisoner by Sir Ian her will to resist had been broken, and she had changed into a submissive sex slave, eager to obey all commands given to her! ...

Chapter 3 (part 3) - A Close Shave The next morning, Davinia was awakened by Yvette, who conducted her for a morning bath. Davinia was bathed and her hair washed, and her underarms and legs were shaved. But what happened next would change her forever! Davinia stood up in the bathroom after her legs were done, only to have Yvette look sternly at her. “Not finished, Mademoiselle! Lady Samantha has ordered me to shave ze pussy!” ...

A Weekend Trip “So when am I going to find out where the surprise destination is?” Darlene asked. She and Joe Riordan, the owner of the movie prop company, were the only two left in the building on a late Friday afternoon. She was sitting at her desk in the rear of the building, in the accounting department behind the warehouse. Joe sat on the edge of her desk. “Not just yet. I do have some coming attractions though. Want to hear the trailer?” Joe had taken over the family business a few years ago from his father. The main line was providing various props to movie and television production companies. A lucrative sideline was selling old movie memorabilia, primarily on the internet. Darlene, an aspiring art director, had been hired to catalog props when they were used in order to document the provenance, the proven history, movie fans demanded. ...

Continues from chapter 22 23 Somehow the return of the Dominatrix had re-centred my consciousness into the ‘me’ that was strapped in place. Yet the new floating sadist me was still present: I was suffering from multiple assaults on my senses and getting off on it at the same time. Warden 7 produced a shining metallic device vaguely resembling a half clam shell but curved inward on both ends. It was thick and heavy looking and was soon attached to the chair between my legs and re-positioned so that it completely covered my genitalia. There must have been a hole or slot for my catheter tube since I felt no sensation of it. An electrical cord trailed away from the thing and disappeared out of sight. To this day I know not the mechanism by which the odd machine functioned. ...

She had him! After months of searching, Pilar got word that Mike wasn’t as forthcoming in his financial statements as he claimed. The text from her lawyer said that beneath layers of legal documents and shell companies there were far more assets that she was entitled to share as ‘Community Property’. Well, that was just like him. Mike was a secretive, controlling S.O.B. If she had really known how much of an asshole he was, she would never have married him. ...

Zoe was a student on summer break from college. She saw an ad for a prison museum which was offering an overnight ghost hunt and as a bonus the participants are dressed in period prison uniforms and get to sleep in a locked cell. They call the event Convict Lockdown. Zoe was super excited about the prison uniforms and being locked in a cell, though the ghost hunt was not a big deal to her. Zoe called them and reserved her spot, or cell, as the person at the prison museum put it! ...

18. Kira’s tribulations Ben woke with a foreboding feeling, something seemed off and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Chloe was still blissfully asleep next to him, chained to the bed but he had this uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He got up and checked the other bedroom where James was still happily snoring away. He came back into his room and turned on the closed circuit TV to see Kira standing near the end of the chain’s length screaming and crying. Chloe awakened at this and looked at the monitor. ...

15. Kidnapped Again and Sold T woke Chloe from her sleep and they did their usual morning routine before they filmed the second video. T whipped Chloe to an earth shattering climax, just as she had promised, the chains rattling as her body shook during her orgasm. He locked the permanent collar around her neck as she begged him to do it and then pretended to brand her, branding a piece of thick leather to make it look as real as possible. The filming went well and Tom again praised them for their excellent work. ...

13. Kidnapped Chloe was struggling against the two hooded men wearing cloth over their faces as Ben walked down the hall. They had entered the bedroom and surprised Chloe as she lay there, already bound helplessly. The men crept in as Chloe rested, nearly dozing off after her multiple orgasms. The two things that kept her awake was her need to drink and replenish her fluids and use the toilet before bedtime. Chloe tried to warn Ben but the larger man grabbed her and clamped his large hand over her mouth, preventing her from crying out around her gag. Unaware, Ben plodded down the hall and the other man hit him over the head with something as he entered the room and he went down in a heap. ...

Anna’s Punishment, Day 3 The night had passed in a blur. The sedative clearly still had an effect since the sleep I got didn’t feel like normal sleep. It was more like a complete oblivion of unconsciousness. No dreams, no sensations, just the soothing nothingness. I didn’t truly wake up even when a couple of the handler goons had shown up in the middle of the night to unstrap me. I barely remembered that it had even happened, but foggy flashes of them unstrapping me and helping me to use the bathroom hadn’t been dreams. They hadn’t talked to me beyond simple barked instructions. If I had tried to talk to them, I had either forgotten or simply failed. ...

Continues from chapter two Chapter 3 – Slave Training Tawny awakened to find herself completely unfettered. This surprised her, but she was still locked in the small cell. It had three concrete walls with bars across the front. It had just enough room for the cot she had slept on, the toilet, a sink and a shower with a clear glass door. She supposed the glass door was functional to keep the water in, but still be able to keep an eye on her. There was no one around so she used the toilet and as she finished washing her hands she heard a voice through a speaker say, “Good morning, slave.” ...

Gail Bell sat in her cubicle, eyes focused on the computer screen in front of her, her fingers furiously typing out a program on the keyboard. One line of code after another appeared on the screen, she hoped that she would be able to do a test run before the end of the day. Or else she could simply log on from home and finish the program and do a test tonight; or come in on Saturday to finish it. After all, in the IT field you can work any eighty hours you want! ...

Part 1: Reunited in Submission Jennifer Tyler sat at the Dunkin Donut’s window, wondering what she was going to do for Thanksgiving. For the holiday weekend, she had no good options. How could she have made such a mess out of her sex life in the last few years? Idly, she took another glance at the copy of the Times on the counter. Then another sip of coffee, the donut she had for breakfast long since consumed. Finally, she stared out the window, watching the early fall of snow. ...

Part 1 “Enter,” Mistress Stephanie commanded from inside the library. Her Maid Camille opened the library door for Allison Robbins, Stephanie’s newest prospective client. Allison was twenty-one, just out of college, well built and attractive, a Greenwich socialite, heiress of a modest fortune, and unfortunately for her, getting into trouble and being chased by the paparazzi. “Mistress Stephanie, Allison Robbins is here,” said Camille. “Thank you, Camille. Allison, so nice to meet with you, please take a seat,” Stephanie offered. ...

Continues from part one_ ### Part 2 Exactly one week later, Allison had gone out to dinner with two of her girlfriends at a local restaurant. Halfway through dinner, she looked over – and there was Mistress Stephanie having dinner with another woman! Suddenly, Allison broke out in a sweat! What should she do? Should she simply ignore Mistress Stephanie and company? Should she walk over and say hello? Just what sort of etiquette was involved in seeing a Dominatrix? ...

Continues from chapter one_ ### Chapter 2: A Dark Existence She waits, uncertain what her slavery will bring and who demands it. Wrapped in her cocoon of bondage after being kidnapped from her home, May wondered who had ordered her abduction. She’d been driven around for a long time now and recognized that the vehicle had stopped. She speculated whether this was a stop for gas or their destination. As she wondered, she barely felt the needle slide into the side of her buttocks, and moments later her musings turned into dreams as she was carried into her new world that would be both her home, and prison. ...

“Ah! Done!” “Good Job, Tracy!” Tracy let her hammer fall on the stripped floor of the basement. She sat down on it and spread her legs open, resting her tired calves. The small girl was wearing dirty construction shoes and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. Her Zelda T-shirt was not in much better shape. But yet, she still looked cute in the eyes of her girlfriend, April. ...

Part One After my rescue from the clutches of Doctor Sara by the FBI I found myself without a job of course. In one sense this didn’t matter too much as I didn’t need to worry about finding a roof over my head or paying for the essentials. You see, Mr. Mazzoni and the Doctor had been rounded up and I was whipped away into a safe house where my basic needs were looked after and I could be kept safe until the trial. It turns out the FBI had been after him for a while and so I found myself embroiled in the middle of a high-profile trial as a key witness. One reason I needed to be in a safe house was that Mr. Mazzoni’s henchman – the guy who had taken me to the doctor’s lair - had avoided arrest and the FBI feared that he would try to silence me. Sure the doctor had been caught red-handed torturing someone and her conviction was assured, my testimony there was just to add strength to the prosecution’s case. But I was the only tangible link between the doctor and Mr. Mazzoni’s nefarious shipping activities. These, I turned out included the import and export of drugs and young women for the sex trade. At least I now knew what fate had been planned for me once the doctor had tired of her tortures and why she was at pains not to mark me too badly. ...

After the recent party, I was left to do most of the clearing up. Sara helped a little but, predictably, left me to do most of the work, tottering around in my five inch sandals and, as usual, wearing the maids outfit. I had previously agreed with Sara that she would have to keep the house clean if she wanted to stay with me, and failure to do this would have consequences. I like my house to look very neat and tidy and be very clean and I’m prepared to put in the work to keep it that way. Sara has a very different view about housework – for her it is to be avoided at all costs. ...

Part One This is one part of a scene Sara and I participated in together. I tied her up and then tied myself up. You can read Sara’s side of the scene in #17b Andreabound ties me up. Sara was long overdue for a turn under the ropes. I had introduced her in a most gentle manner to a simple hogtie last time. This time I thought I would take her a little further. It was important, I felt, that she understood a little of what it was she did to me. How else was she to understand the potential damage she could do? ...

Continues from chapter one Chapter 2 Abigail, the most respected slave trainer and highly ranked woman in ControlCorp, found herself temporarily in the hands of two amateur slavers due to a series of unfortunate misunderstandings. She was fuming, as she stood before these two fools bound and naked wearing her new ‘company uniform.’ She stood there blindfolded, wearing the sluttiest 7-inch training heels the company produced, and her arms bound in a sadistic black rubber elbow binder. She also had the company’s sophisticated SmartGag in her mouth, preventing her from speaking unless spoken to by a male employee, and could apparently highjack her voice! That stupid thing was the reason she was in this mess in the first place. Then finally, she now had her poor virgin asshole stuffed with the largest training plug she’d ever seen, with another devious device stuffed into her pussy; both locked and sealed away by the chastity belt her captors had just secured around her waist. She couldn’t wait to destroy these assholes; she was just waiting for her chance. ...

It had been on my to-explore list for some time and we just got word that we only had two months left before the place was bulldozed to make way for a new development. The perks of being friends with some of the towns planners. I also got a permit to get us past security, on the guise that I would inventory anything of interest left on the site that the council could make money from by selling. However, there was one condition on the permit and that was that there had to be myself and one other person present during the visit; who that was, was my call. ...

WARNING! This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains Strong Sexual Content. It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior. If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state, nation, or planet that prohibits such behavior, stop reading immediately!!! Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by e-mail. The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format. However, individual readers may make single copies of the story for their own, non-commercial use. ...

Olive Wade was a teacher, just turned forty who lived alone in an upper middle class suburb in the western suburbs. She was of average height, with a trim, but solid figure, a round, often smiling face and wore her dark hair in in a short page boy cut. She was generally regarded as a good primary teacher. She had been married in her late twenties but this had ended in divorce after three years. However, she still liked the company of men and had enjoyed a couple of discreet affairs. At present she was unattached. ...

Ruby had just come back from the family attorney. Seems the dried up Oil Well that her late parents gave 5 years ago sprung a leak and came back to life. She now has more money than she knows what to do with, (But She will Try.) Ruby lived with her roommate from College. Michelle was a free spirit and eco-activist always traveling for her cause. This left Ruby a lot free alone time to pursue her well-kept secret of playing with self-bondage Michelle never knew or Ruby thought so, but that was about to change ...

Chapter 1: Awakenings A faint sound began to become clearer as the fog from her mind began to dissipate. Initially it was distant but it began to gain sharpness and clarity. She blinked her eyes and was in a stupor, she fought to come to full consciousness as the medicated stupor, clinically referred to as Chemical Restraint, was slowly wearing off. “Can you hear me, Marie?” The therapist was working to awaken her latest patient, and was satisfied to see her eyes had began to blink. ...

Carol was having second or even third thoughts about what she had done. She had let her wildest fantasies and kinks control her way of thinking. Her desire had led to serious trouble with no hope of escape or release. She sat there shaking in her full body bondage as the sun kissed her thick latex suit. She moaned quietly behind the massive gag she had given herself. She had just ended her life in many ways. All because her pussy was turned on by bondage, latex, gags, isolation, sensory deprivation and other sick and twisted ideas. Even going over it now was making her wet. For fuck sake why was she so disgusting and inhuman. As a tear rolled over her tightly rubberised face. ...

Jennifer had been training hard for her new role as a personal fitness trainer. In a new city. She had already setup her website and got the equipment in. She would be going to people’s homes and getting them fit and health. She would be able to tailor the training to the person specifically and work whenever they were free. She wanted to be at the top of her game before his meet anyone. So for the last 6 weeks she had been workout almost every day. ...

story continued from part one_ #### Anna’s Punishment, Day 2 It had not been a good night. My head was pounding and I felt dehydrated even though I had drank all of the water that had been left on my table. The snacks I hadn’t really touched, even though I knew I probably should’ve eaten something. But they were dry snacks, so I knew they’d stay good even if I saved them for later. ...

story continued from chapter seven Chapter 8: Big changes in my prison! Update 2 from my prison Much has changed since my last update. Most significantly, Master has acquired a new slave. She now resides in the cell next to mine. I was hoping to gain access to that cell to give me more living area, but that is not to be. No matter. Now I have a friend. I did not realize just how lonely I was. ...

story continued from chapter eight Chapter 9: My Punishment…… (Update 3 from my prison) In case you don’t recall from my last update, Master caught me playing with myself and told me I needed to be punished for playing with “His” pussy. He said he bought it when he bought me. After the three of us had a nice breakfast, Master told Jules she would be spending the day in her cell and that I would be serving my punishment for playing with “His” pussy. I was told to get naked and given a large ring gag to put on. I had my wrist and ankle cuffs on as well as my shock collar, fully charged. Master led me into the playroom and directed my attention to a large curtain. He let me study the curtain for a few minutes. I wondered what was in store for me. The suspense was quite intoxicating. Even though I knew my punishment would be severe, it was exciting to think about what might happen to me. Finally, Master opened the curtain. He led me to what looked like a black, over stuffed, cylindrical pillow with the bottom half removed. It looked something like a small barrel cut in half, lengthwise. It had a large, peach colored dildo sticking up from it. Master applied some KY jelly to the dildo and told me to sit on the device. ...

story continued from chapter six Chapter 7: So this is my station in life now…… In case you don’t remember from previous chapters, my b/f, now ex b/f, has sold me to a man who keeps me locked in a cell in his basement. So my story continues…. I have been held captive for about seven months now and have settled in to a routine which is tolerable. Actually, tolerable is too nice of a word. Survivable would be a better description of my life. The first five or six weeks were terrible. I was very defiant and downright angry all the time. If I was rude, I was beaten. If I was loud, I was beaten. If I was defiant, I was beaten. Food was withheld from me, as was sleep, whenever I did anything that annoyed my Master. I was forced to perform oral sex on my Master whenever he chose and was raped whenever he felt like it. My life was basically a living Hell. ...

story continued from part five Chapter Six Handcuffs. Ball gags x2 Rope of 3 different types. Gaffer tape. Nipple clamps. Hoods x2 Dildos of various lengths etc 4 Butt plugs x3 including 1 electro. Tens unit. Whip Straps x6 Leather harnesses x2 Sounds like a rape kit, but no this is all what you have to take on holiday if you are going with Claire. That’s also why we can only go in the UK if we are intending to play. Anyway being a master and film producer is not easy. I mean for god’s sake the pressure to come up with new story lines and different styles of bondage are to be honest so hard. Yes I know not a good reason to moan but it adds to the pressure to entertain. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Worm Scarlett struggled against the heavy duty bondage she had been placed in. She was giving it everything she had as she trying to get just one of the restraints to give way. The network of stocks and cuffs that kept her prisoner, had been built to last. Her mind had been so forced on breaking free, she had forgotten about the asphyxiation put upon her by the gas mask. She suddenly had no oxygen in her lungs or in the mask. Panic rolled through her as her hearth rate spiked and sweat start to pour out of her skin. Tears started to dip from her fear filled eyes and over the latex hood she was wearing. The latex bondage suit she was in started to feel even tighter than before. The arm-bender was starting to kill her shoulders and elbows as finally a small amount of air entered the gas mask. Her latex enclosed fingers had started to scratch the inside of the rubber mittens. As she tried to claw her hands free. ...

It was a dull weekday morning and Lily Maxted was making her way to work through the inner city streets. Lily was a slim, taller than average girl in her early twenties. She had a thin pleasant face with a pointed chin and short, slightly wavy brown hair. Though no beauty, some might have called her attractive in a quiet way. Today she was dressed for work, wearing a wide woollen skirt, simple white blouse and a warm brown cardigan. Because rain had been forecast later she wore a blue plastic raincoat that rustled as she walked. She carried a leather handbag with a long strap. ...

story continues from part three Day 4 After the torments of day 3 were over and I collapsed onto my mattress I was unable to get any sleep at all. I had just lay there awake all night crying and thinking about my situation, about how trapped I was. I had never felt more helpless and alone in my life, I doubted anyone ever had. Everyday of my sentence so far I had made some infraction of the rules and earned more days to my sentence. I was terrified that my torment might never end; I would be tortured here day after day until I finally died in misery and pain. ...

story continues from part two Day 3 After my second day of my sentence I was so much pain that sleep was nearly impossible. I needed sleep desperately to put an end to the constant pain I was in. My shoulders and my jaw were an unending throbbing pain. I could barely move my jaw at all and my arms were almost useless. I had laid on the tiny mattress trying fall asleep but the pain and memories of the previous day of agony kept me awake most of the night. Unaware of time, all I had was a timer that read all zeros, and then the door swung open startling me from my haze. ...

Chapter 1 Claire and I had been friends for ages. We both seemed to know that at sometime in the future we would be lovers. It was one of those friendships where you know each others’ mates and go to the same parties but just never sort of get together. Claire seemed to be really sad at this party and being of a group of people who always have a laugh she stood out in her desolation. ...

Story continues from Tale of Two Brides Allison here, and boy did I have a day today. It’s been a few months since our ill-fated bondage walk in our bridal dresses, and since then, we haven’t done a whole lot, simply because we don’t know what our neighbor is going to do with the sole picture that she took us as we were standing there in our dresses tied and gagged. ...

story continues from part one Part 2: The Jailbreak In the morning the sheriff and the town’s mayor visited me in my cell, I having been provided a course wool blanket that I had kicked off after I discovered it’s rough texture and my abused backside didn’t get along well. The ferocity of my punishment made me feel quite warm anyway, like a sunburn, and I slept on my belly to try to find the maximum comfort all things considered. The sheriff had let me shower off in the jail’s open shower stall before putting me up for the night in my cell, and it was there that I removed the sadistic but wonderful little balls that I had been given as a consolation prize by my one time professor and temporary executioner. ...

story continues from part one Day 2 The cell door opened with a creak. It would take a much louder noise to awaken her after the day she had yesterday. She had fallen asleep quickly despite the considerable pain she had been in. Once asleep she hadn’t moved a muscle. “Wake up Ms. Thompson.” Mr. Carson said No reaction she was still sound asleep. “Ms. Thompson, wake up!” he nearly shouted “Or you’ll get another day.” ...

Sophie was enjoying a nice cold glass of white wine as she relaxed in front of the TV. She lived in a beautiful model house just outside the city of Liverpool. She had just had the whole building renovated and had a basement added as well. A massively costly project and that took a long time to complete. Luckily for Sophie her grandparents were fantastically well off and paid for the lot. She never had to lift a finger in order to get money. Sophie was also very pretty and sexy and she knew it. She was also very unlikable as a person and was often on her own. She had no problem with being by herself and found it enjoyable most of the time. Besides she was never alone. Sophie was brutally sadistic and had a list of fetishes longer than a porn website. She had lots of time and money to do whatever she wanted and no one would stop her. Mainly because no one was around to say or do anything. And if they were she would have never listened to them. She had told her grandparents the basement was for for a gym and hot tub, when they paid for the work to be done. ...

I made a big mistake, a BIG mistake. I thought it would be over quicker and so it would be easier. Wrong. How hard could it be? Oh my God! I had eight more days and after one day, actually 8 hours, I thought I was going to die. Let me explain… In 2033 the crime rate was sky high. The prisons were overflowing. So a law was passed that gave convicted criminals a choice, do much longer time than in the past or do much shorter time in a correctional facility where you would be punished during your sentence. The punishment was in keeping with your crime. For example, my crime was perjury; I was to be punished for speaking falsely so I was to be punished by being gagged. You don’t even want to know the punishment for prostitution, holy shit. Anyway I chose the punishment facility; I figured how hard could a gag be? This is my story of my first day. ...

story continued from part two Part 3. Chapter 1. He had to check. To see whether the ghosts had done their magic or not. Only James had felt guilty at not having told Heather that he’d made imprints of the keys before tossing the originals down the vent. That’d had been the worst part of the whole thing for him. The symbolism of throwing those keys away thus imprisoning her for all time. So now six months after he’d attended her ‘funeral,’ along with his parents in Ft William, he was actually going to see if her body needed to be disposed of. It was a hot October afternoon and he’d packed a picnic, planning to… well hoping to share it with her. Arriving at Claggan his heart was already pounding, the same way it always did on sighting the ruin, but as today he was going inside this was different and in a way he didn’t know whether to continue. If she was dead, then so be it, but if Heather really was alive… that might cause more problems for both of them. He had enough to deal with at the moment already. Most times he’d just driven past on his way to the peatbeds. Only the first, the occasion when all three of the family had been present to witness James scattering the ‘ashes’ Kelvin had provided did his parents see just how much he’d thought of Miss McCreadie. They’d arrived back from Aberdeen the night before the funeral, not even knowing she’d ‘died’. Only his devastated face greeting them had silenced the pair. June’s plan to show him the delightful pictures of their newest arrival were halted. The three had travelled to Ft William for the service and only then, talking to Janice did Kelvin find out from the concocted story they’d agreed on that Heather had ‘died’ in James’ arms the week before. He pledged right then to look after the lad as best he could during the following months. His boy had been grief-stricken at first but used time to work off his sorrow and the farm would prosper as a result. The photo of Miss McCreadie taken by him up the tower at Claggan Castle during that first magical holiday then made an appearance in his bedroom. Anytime he needed space away from the farm he would tell the others he was off to visit ‘Heather’s place’ Today he was going to see if she was really there! Parking up he grabbed torches and stuff then went downstairs, pleased to see the place was as he’d expected. Even the manacle room was intact, though he knew where the keys were for those ones. Spraying oil onto the hatch chain James hauled up on it. The massive lump slowly rising up to the side. James quietly eased the two wedges into place to support it then nervously approached the first of the locked doors. Sliding the key into the lock he prayed it’d work, sighing with relief as it clicked and so the bolts followed and James went through, doing the same to the second door and finally he stood outside Heather’s cell. Sniffing the air and relieved there was no smell of decaying corpse. He looked through the bars, the candles burning as before and he saw… Chapter 2. Ever since those keys had rattled down the pipe Heather McCreadie had prayed like never before for something to happen. The first night being the worst as the ghosts never came for her. She’d felt really grim, stomach cramping, lungs burning her alive and at one point Heather begged for something to take her away from this before passing out. So was surprised to wake later with only a slight pain running through her body. Had they been after all? With no sense of time Heather worked on ‘sleeps,’ using a nail and scratching lines into the wall above her bed. Like in cartoons of prisoners ticking off the ‘days-til-release’. Though the thought that she’d never leave here had driven Miss McCreadie into hysterics at one point on her seventh period of ‘wake’ as she called it. Smashing her fists into the wall, tugging the restraining bolt there then trying to get the chain off her collar. But James’ handiwork was too good so another ‘day of despair’ began for the girl. By ‘wake’ ten she no longer ached, in fact Heather felt quite good. Starting to realise she was putting some weight on again. If only she’d got James to leave her sandwiches or something else instead of just biscuits and cake. “Guess he assumes I’ll be dead by now instead of almost cured!” she grumbled. “I wonder what my ‘funeral’ was like?” a faint grin in the darkness of her humour. The ghosts came for her days later as she lay there. Though at first Heather thought she was dreaming as her blanket drew back and the dress came up. Looking down however she saw it really moving and she smiled as it got to work. Minutes later she was squealing in ecstasy as it brought her off into one hell of an orgasm. So maybe things weren’t so bad if this kept happening. Occasionally she’d lose it and tug at her chains but the girl had eventually resigned herself to her situation. So she lived on regardless, doing limited twisting and bending exercises because of the wrist cuffs, shuffling up and down the cell but the girl couldn’t complain. She was the one who’d asked James to put her down here, if ONLY he hadn’t obeyed her last request and toss the keys down the vent. He’d assured Heather they were the only ones and she believed that to be true as he’d promised never to lie to her. Her current ‘day’ dream continued, hearing quiet footsteps in the corridor and the squeak of a bolt at her cell door, then the lock clicked so she smiled and opened her eyes to see… A FACE AT THE BARS! Heather scrambled off the bed, her eyes widening as the door creaked open and James slowly walked in. Stunned she was alive, and looking like the first day he’d seen her last year. That beautiful face back to normal, paler in the candlelight, but currently with a look of utter shock on it. “Hello honey, I’m back,” he said as she gaped. “JAMES!” she squealed, bursting into tears and he came closer, wrapping the girl in his arms. Thrilled she was all right and he savoured the feelings he’d thought he’d never have again. Their lips meeting for a kiss then he ruffled her hair. They stayed like that for ages before she gently pushed him away and sat down on her bed. “The keys you put down the vent, you said those were the only ones, how did you get in?” she said at last, a note of what to him sounded like annoyance or accusation in her voice. He looked surprised at her tone, then realised she was naturally struggling to comprehend what was happening. “Well… at the time they were,” he said, looking a little sheepish. “But I didn’t say I’d made imprints into clay beforehand, then had new ones made. So I didn’t lie, just… bent the truth somewhat,” and she smiled a little as he carried on. “I had to know one way or another about you. Heather love, I cared so much for you and now I know you’re alive I’ll promise I always will. Besides you are looking rather good today.” Heather smiled at that, lifting her legs up and showing him she was still manacled as before. “Yeah, it’s been a struggle. But my ghostly friends eventually did their stuff… so it appears I’m cured… or at least in remission or whatever it’s called. No aches or pains anywhere,” she said and looked down at her wrists. “However buddy I’d be a lot better if you took these off please, or at least cut the link,” Heather asked, waving arms indicating the chain between them, the same for her legs. “Going to the bucket is bloody difficult, especially in this dress. I nearly tipped the damn thing over one day overbalancing.” He grinned at her and she looked pained at first, then smiled as he said he’d cut them. How he’d get the actual cuffs off her limbs would have to be worked out. Somehow he’d get her next door into the workshop. But how to do it while she was still chained to the wall as he knew the ’link’ to the castle must not be broken… and that began to worry him. Did Heather realise this yet? Heather waited nervously as James went to fetch his bolt-cutters, happy that soon she’d be able to get outside and her body tingled with anticipation. He returned, telling her to sit down so he could start with her ankles. “Why? Fancy having a little… once I can open them wide enough?” she chuckled and he went red. “No, well maybe later once I know you’re OK,” he replied, telling her to be patient. James positioned himself and snipped through the second loop from the manacle itself. The first would need to remain intact for the snaplocks. Another snip and the chain dropped away with a clatter. Heather raised one leg on its own, then the other before standing up. “Nice, now do my wrists so I can give you a great BIG bearhug.” He did so, letting the link that’d bound her fall away and Heather groaned, as she was able to flex both shoulders’ independently. Swinging her arms for a moment. “C’mer,” she giggled and wrapped herself around, hugging him tight, both of them starting to cry as they held on. After a while of this they dried up, James wiping away her tears before she sat down and held the chain by her collar. “Last one,” she grinned, that fading on seeing him place the boltcutters on the bed well away from where they should be heading. James looked painfully at her then shook his head. “I’m sorry love. But I cannot do that one, if I cut it love, you’ll probably die and… I’m not prepared to risk that,” he said at last. Heather McCreadie was stunned into silence. Her mouth flapping open in disbelief. “But you MUST!” she finally squealed, tugging the chain, staring at him, her eyes wider than he’d ever seen before. The girl getting to her feet and going to the wall. Placing both hands near the bolt and pulling as best she could, begging him to do the last cut then take her home to Braemore. James had to stop her, grabbing the lassie and spinning Heather around, forcing her against the stonework, holding both wrists high above her head and pressing himself against her. Unfortunately he was not used to dealing with pretty girls in dresses, thinking the restrictive length of her outfit would stop any kicking. Forgetting that Heather’s ankles were free and she made him pay. A well-placed knee missed his crown jewels by a fraction, bouncing off his thigh but still making James wince. “That’s enough missy, settle down,” he snapped as she tried that again, really struggling and crying but helpless in his grip. She tried a different tack, attempting a head-butt that only just missed and he lost control. Quickly letting go of an arm he slapped Heather’s face as hard as he’d do with errant livestock. The blow stunned her but did the trick. A flaming imprint of his fingers on her cheek and she stopped struggling, but James was not in the mood to cease. Dragging Heather to the bed and throwing her on, then he mounted her and pinned the girl down, his face inches from hers. “Now stop it, or I’m gonna leave you, understand?” he barked, “Down here, alone, afraid, locked in your collar, the doors and hatch secured and me gone for ever. Do you want that, or shall I try to help you?” he said. The last bit quieter as he could see how terrified she’d become. Heather’s tearstained face looked up at him but knowing he was right was still devastating for her when she’d thought it’d soon be over. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as he let go, getting off and allowing her to sit up then embrace him. “But you must see… it’s been such a nightmare down here… I didn’t want to continue living. Yes I was alone and afraid, so please don’t taunt me!” her voice getting angry again. However seeing him starting to glare at her she moderated the tone, afraid he’d abandon her after all. “I… at one point I really wanted to die and be done with it,” she said but stopped on seeing him stiffen. His hands gripped hers tight enough to hurt but Heather was amazed when he started to cry instead. “Please love, please never say that, after what I’ve just been through,” he wept and now it was her turn to hold on as he then told the girl something that appalled her. “Barely a fortnight ago I had to attend two more funerals. My best friends Gary and Martin. Both of them fellow farming mates’ killed in a tractor crash on the Ullapool road a week or so before. Drunk-driving trucker ploughed headfirst into them. I was following with Kelvin and saw the whole thing. We rushed to help but once there saw it was hopeless and we needed proper cutting gear rather than trying ourselves. Running back to ours to phone for the rescue guys we were fifty yards away when the whole lot blew up.” Heather gasped at that, clutching his hands as the guy trembled. Hearing those screams echoing again in his head as people died in agony. “Imagine how you’d have felt losing Janice and one of the others and seeing it happen?” he continued. “Now I know you’re alive love, then I… I can try to save you when I couldn’t rescue my friends. Will that do? I’m promising you now Heather that I’ll do my best to make life here more comfortable. But you in turn must realise that you simply cannot leave… ever. Remember, according to records you’re officially dead anyway. These ghosts here have given you a wonderful second chance that my Gaz and Marz will never get, OK?” Both of them were now in tears and he apologised for losing his rag and she nodded, stroking his face, kissing him tenderly as he simmered down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” James man enough to accept what she said, cuddling her body until she’d settled. Chapter 3. To change the subject Heather asked about Jenna’s baby, remembering she’d been due. Astonished to find the young Hollie Louise was nearly six months old. Her eyes watered at the fact she’d never be able to have a child herself, also shocked at how long she’d already been incarcerated here and it shook her up, James stroking to calm her again with a kiss for good measure. “Louise, that’s nice. It was… well is my middle name too,” she said softly. James nodded. “I know, Jen asked me to suggest one and rather than being too corny or obvious, I said Louise instead, they liked it so H-L she became. Think Kelvin and June are aware of my reasoning, and they don’t mind. But what they’d say if they knew I was here talking to the real ‘Lou’ I dread to think.” They both chuckled at that. James also saying that Jen had finally decided to clear out her wardrobes, purging at Braemore and her place in Aberdeen. “Four bloody great bags of gear going to charity shops or the dump. Do you want any of them before I junk the rest?” She agreed and he said he’d bring the whole lot next weekend for her to rummage through. “I think your ’naughty nightie’ is in there!” he grinned and Heather blushed SO red. There were some spare blankets at home he’d fetch as well. The guy wasn’t sure how cold it’d get down here. Heather saying so far the temperature seemed to remain constant and was comfortable enough but she’d appreciate extra protection. However he did warn her that there may be the odd time due to bad weather when he’d have to miss a couple of visits. The last few winters hadn’t been that bad for snowfall but she needed to be prepared. “Well I got through the first six months alright. So we’ll see about that when it comes.” Getting a rub as James knew how hard this was for her. He announced plans to ‘chain-up’ the corridor thus it would allow Heather to move around her floor. She could use snaplocks on those loose loops of the manacles and get from room to room without breaking the ’link’. Though having realised what this might mean she paused and asked him to do the whole place instead! “There’s plenty of chain lengths still next door, isn’t there?” James went into the workshop and looked at the racks, measuring lengths with his eyes. She was right and as he was a member of the Mountain Rescue team now he had a whole box of climbing snaplocks in the jeep. So he came back and told her, seeing Heather’s eyes light up. “It’d mean I could even go… upstairs… beyond the hatch, couldn’t I?” she said, nervously hoping… “Yep. I’ve got no problem with that. Do you good to get some daylight love,” he replied and she rushed forward and gave him a hug. Over the next two hours he did a great job. Banging spikes into walls and affixing cables to them. Returning to Heather and saying it was all done as she’d asked. There was enough slack for them to overlap so she could clip one ankle to the next length before undoing the first but now she could get to the main door. “But you MUST check before moving on. This is so important honey, I wouldn’t want to lose you now,” he said and she nodded, getting a reassuring kiss. The closest one stretched from the first corridor barrier right into her cell though James warned her each length weighed a lot. “Keep me exercised then,” she grinned, holding the snaplock. Heather clipped it to her leg and checked it was secure, showing James the little tab was across. Then he came close with the boltcutters and she held the neckchain, allowing him to pause, then snip the loop. “Oh goodness that’s better!” Miss McCreadie exclaimed as the weight dropped off and she could relax, letting the chain go with a clatter as it fell to the floor. “Yep, I’m fine. No dizziness love” she said having paused to see. James smiled as he fitted a snaplock to the end, saying as these shouldn’t undo she’d be OK. But put the ankle one on as well when sleeping ‘just in case’ one came off. Heather agreed before giving him a kiss of thanks. Then heading for the door, nervously peering out of the cell before stepping into the corridor. She didn’t bother teasing James by locking him in but paced herself to the staircase, managing not to trip over on the chain, though the drag was considerable as he’d warned. Arriving at the bottom she looked up, feeling a breeze on her face but didn’t go further despite the next length from above being there ready for her. James came up behind, sliding hands round her waist. “You going on up?” he asked, surprised when Heather said no. “Guess I’m scared, OK?” and that got her a kiss and stroke before they went back to her room and sat on the bed for another cuddle. “So what do the ghosts do to you now you’re OK?” he asked. Fascinated at her reply about the sexual side, seeing her eyes close and a warm smile at the memories. Opening in amazement when he asked would the ghosts do the same for him? “Hardly likely James, for a start you’re not chained to the wall by any means, no collar or manacles.” He sat there mulling things over. “If I mounted a new one and chain near to yours. Then did my wrists and legs, I wonder?” He got up and went next door, seeing what was left, then returned carrying a whole lot of stuff that was dumped on the bed. Even asking her permission before knocking the spike in. James felt foolish, as an idea of wearing restraints just to see how Heather felt seemed ridiculous. But he’d issued the challenge and Miss McCreadie was accepting it. The girl however also said he’d ’look so sweet all dolled up in a frock’ and that made him splutter as she pointed to her outfit. “No I didn’t mean that as well,” but she said no. “The only way they’ll do it is if you’re wearing the dress and lying down, remember there should be a second in the casket. Go and fetch it and we’ll see.” The guy went upstairs to the casket and opened it. Dragging out the two grey dresses then finding the last at the bottom. Rolling it up and returning downstairs to see her grinning broadly at him. So the fact Heather was needling him made things worse as she examined it closely. “Yep, I think you’ll fit” She held it open and he took it off her, trying to remember how she did things. Planting one foot into the middle, then the other before lifting the front bit up; surprised at how heavy it was. “Not bad,” she chuckled as he got the robe to his waist, then reached an arm deep down into the sleeve before she helped James do the other and shrug himself into it. It was a better fit than he thought, snug round the arms as the girl went around the back and started doing the hooks-and-eyes, telling him to breath in a bit as it was hard to do him up. “You’ve put a little timber on, yes?” and James admitted he had. “Too much breakfast at home. Even June’s been on at me,” he chuckled. Heather smiling, “Yeah, toast, it’d make a change from cake and biscuits, even choccy ones,” and they both laughed at that. ...

story continued from part one Part 2. Chapter 1 The ghosts had tormented Heather to the most wonderful orgasms and she lay exhausted on the bed after the last cleaning session. She had no idea of the time now. It felt like she’d been here ages yet her water supply had hardly been touched. The girl sure she’d finished one of the bottles. But they were both full, so was her biscuit box and that was curious knowing she’d eaten all the choccy ones within hours of the hatch going down. Even her waste bucket didn’t smell though clearly she’d used it, the level of antiseptic not changed from when James had filled it. She jumped on hearing the chain start to rush, knowing James had returned, and for a moment she was disappointed that he’d come to free her. Eventually the doors clattered open and he was there. Dressed as usual, carrying a clear bag containing what looked like the dress she’d worn yesterday. Coming close as she got up, the pair embracing, Heather trying not to cry as his lips met hers. This night had been so special and now freedom… if she wanted it. She paused when James asked her, then to his relief she nodded. For a moment he had a daft idea that she’d ‘gone’ in the head and wanted to remain here for longer. But she began to strip off the dress, folding it up then getting into the modern stuff he’d brought. Finally stepping into the heels and saying she’d like to go ‘home’. He didn’t offer to bind her, and they held hands all the way to the jeep. That evening lying in James’ bed having had a refreshing bath, the girl again wearing Jen’s nightie she told him what had happened. The ghosts had come for her, thus proving the theory about the spirits. “It was fun, I’ll be a little sore for ages but I was right though. Strangely it’s given me a lot of energy too. Sounds silly but I feel my batteries had been running down the last few months, now I’m fine again.” He smiled in the darkness and asked her just how much energy she had, the fact she could ‘hear’ him smiling at the loaded question was enough and her hands reached for his shorts. “Enough to give you a shock matey,” she grinned as their lips met, his hands easing the dress up. It was a very tearful Heather McCreadie who bid James goodbye next morning. She knew time was passing and she had to get home to Ft William, though they promised to keep in touch. Kelvin and June arrived the following evening and found the lad busy in the yard, though he seemed a little distracted. But as he’d been alone for the last week since Heather and the other couple had gone they left him to it. That night he was in the office when Kelvin said Heather was on the telephone. He managed to control his emotions as he came in quickly to speak to her, that lovely voice echoing down the line, the girl saying she’d safely arrived back in Ft William and thanking him for what he’d done. Kelvin overheard him wishing her well, the old lad grinning in the kitchen as June chided him for being nosy. “Hmmm, nice lass that Heather,” he said when James came into the room. He saw his son pause, then grin and go red before turning away. Kelvin knew… you couldn’t hide that sort of stuff from your father and before bedtime he came to see his lad. Having done a walkround of the farm and not able to find fault anywhere. James was making a good job of this. But he did want answers. Coming in to the office where the youngster was busy with paperwork. Placing a coffee cup on James’ desk. “How long?” he asked, the lad freezing for a moment. “Heather left yesterday morning, and yes, we did, alright?” was his reply, turning to see his dad smiling at the boy’s discomfort. Not cruelly, but knowing all the same. “Good lad, if you’d lied to me I’d have kicked your ass off of the farm. I’m damn proud of what you do here,” he said, giving the youngster a warm hug. As he left the room… “And yes James, she’s welcome back anytime,” he said, the boy had a grin on his face at that. “Does mum know?” was a reply and Kelvin nodded. “Yes, she knew straight away, even before the phone call came,” and the boy looked puzzled. Dad smiled now, “Heather has a penchant for chocolate biscuits and there was half a pack in the larder, now there aren’t any. I know you don’t like them… so there.” And return Heather would, months later in September. Chapter 2. Somehow the girl knowing that June and Kelvin were away on holiday in Spain, the first time they’d left Scotland for years. James was working in the yard when he saw a familiar figure coming down the drive, pack on its back, those slim but firm legs and a tired but oh so cheeky smile as she got closer. Dropping his toolbox he rushed up and greeted her. Kissing Heather, rubbing Heather, thrilled Heather was once more in his arms. Interrupted by the sheepdog sticking its’ wet nose between them. “Gerroff you silly bitch,” he said as they both laughed. Heather squealing as he then spoke to the dog! Giving the animal a shove to one side so he could hold the girl again. She too was pleased to see him and their chat that night was of… how they’d missed each other. Most holiday romances are just that and until today they’d only occasionally spoken on the phone. Both were just too busy with work. But now… He made dinner while she sorted her washing out and had a bath for the first time in three days, the girl planning to be here all week and some of the next. But once they’d dined and were sitting on the sofa cuddling she also told James something that alarmed him. Despite her outward appearance Heather was very ill and that was why she’d come. “Since that night in Claggan that I’d said recharged my batteries I’d been OK, until three months ago when I collapsed without warning. I just get so tired, really listless and sometimes I just cannot feel the urge to do anything. Yet this week I’ve been OK travelling up here on the coach, and today I managed to walk right from Ullapool to Braemore. Eleven miles with full backpack. So damn frustrating when it happens. I still work at the shop with the other girls but the medics are baffled when I can do things one day yet not the next. They know there is something wrong with my innards because of the bloodwork figures but the other tests prove nothing. So I hoped, James, that having come here to be with you…” “That you’d let me spend another night locked downstairs in the castle. See if that helps.” James stared at her, the girl looking back, eyes pleading with him not to deny her the chance. Smiling when he nodded, breaking down in tears and they came for a hug and kiss. “Not tonight though?” he asked and she grinned, not resisting as he placed both hands on her waist, easing Heather towards the bedroom. A wonderful night of gentle sex followed and by the end of it he’d promised to help Miss McCreadie do anything she could. Next morning he began preparations while she slept on. Nipping over to Dornoch and buying a single sized bed. No way was he going to leave her lying on an old straw one again. This was taken straight to Claggan and installed, pleased the place was exactly as found. More food and water, plus the bucket were placed where they’d been before. Returning home to see Heather in the yard dressed as normal, playing with the sheepdog. She beamed on seeing him and they kissed and hugged. The girl pleased to hear what he’d done up at Claggan. “OK then, we’ll go up there tomorrow. I’m feeling good again today so we’ll do some work, if you want?” The pair did so, Heather able to drive the tractor again, though once past lunchtime the girl said she was tiring rapidly and could she go in. He took her back to the house, leaving her in the lounge on the sofa wrapped in blankets. James amazed at how quickly she’d deteriorated. “See, that’s how annoying it is for me too,” she murmured as a coffee cup was handed over. James looked into her eyes and saw how dull they’d become and he was appalled. He said little else, except a gentle scold at the fact this could have happened yesterday during her walk to get here. She did have a SOS pendant given to her by the hospital. If she’d collapsed anywhere in the UK all Heather had to do was to press the red button on the front. This would activate a GPS alarm and somehow the emergency people could find her. “It’s designed for pensioners,” she shrugged sadly, “but I don’t think I’m going to get that old.” So now told her off for being morbid, the girl nodding ruefully, getting a hug and kiss at the end as an apology. They didn’t make love that night, though she did ‘borrow’ Jen’s nightie and the couple faded away together. Next day she was tired first thing, though she cooked their meals and did some housework, remaining inside until it was time for them to go to the castle. She didn’t ask to be bound, nor did he insist and before long they were there. Seeing Heather’s eyes light up as she stepped through the doorway, a pat of the stonework as they went downstairs. He said little as he helped Heather dress, then securing the collar and manacles till she was done. They had a long kiss then he left, doing the doors, quietly sealing the hatch up and leaving Miss McCreadie to the ghosts, the guy praying they’d do something to help her. ...

story continued from part three Part 4. Chapter 1. It had been a long a bitter winter for Heather McCreadie even though she was safely underground. The girl woke after every ‘sleep’ praying this would be the day he’d come to see her. Even a shouted word or two down the vent pipe would be a start but all she’d endured was silence. Heather sighed and dressed herself, wearing what was still her favorite of Jenna’s outfits now it seemed to be getting warmer again. The black thigh length one, adding the high heels that she had got used to over the years. The ghosts ensuring that little of her stuff wore out once replaced in the wardrobe. Now she slipped next door for a drink and her breakfast. This of sliced bread and… well today it would be honey as she’d had jam yesterday. A look in the other jar and yes, the level was back to the top. She sat down and not for the first time recently Heather McCreadie began to cry. The tears flowing as she remembered the fine summer days, especially those of last year. When James had brought her up beyond the hatch and she’d discovered the castle hall had been turned into a dining room. A table and two chairs with champagne and a picnic feast. It’d been lovely to sit in fresh air and eat though she did wonder what the occasion had been for. Trying to be happy on discovering this was her five-year anniversary took a monumental effort. Even James realised he’d made a mistake as her face crumpled. At one point he thought she was going back down, unable to face it but as usual Heather proved her fighting spirit as she finally smiled. “Yeah, but as I’ve said it’s better than the alternative! Get the wine open pet.” Going through with the meal… and what followed downstairs afterwards. Now she’d just be happy to hear his voice as it felt like months rather than weeks since he’d left with her screams ringing in his ears. That had been traumatic enough for her, as she’d become used to the limited freedom he’d allowed her. With the front access door locked Heather now had the run of the castle during the summer months. He’d even created a studio upstairs in the tower for the girl to sit and do her drawings. But the last two visits had not gone well, and when James hadn’t returned having forced her below stairs after the second it somehow worried Heather that maybe he’d abandoned her after all! The first of the two he’d arrived but seemed a little distracted, plus the weather hadn’t helped. Heavy rain and a bit windy and he’d apologised saying he was busy and couldn’t stop long after all. They’d planned a whole day and now it’d been spoiled, James saying that there was a chance of some very bad storms coming through the area in the next few days. “This is nothing love to what they’re forcasting,” explaining that the remains of a bad hurricane were crossing the Atlantic and due to hit the whole of Scotland head on. While this happened a few times a year, this particular hurricane had caused devastation on the Eastern seaboard of the States and Canada. Many people had died despite warnings and now it was coming this way. “Well Claggan’s probably survived worse,” she quipped. Only for James to scowl at her. “Yeah, but for those of us up top it’s not so easy to deal with.” Which might be a little harsh on Heather but she paused then apologised for being flippant. He gave her a cuddle and did the same, but told her she should spend the next couple of days packing up the tower studio please. The girl dreading the winter to come as it might mean she’d… have to remain under the hatch for up to four months. She’d agreed to do that, got a hug then started after he’d gone. Emptying the cupboards and carrying the lightest of the chairs and stowing them in the manacle room. But the weather didn’t let up and the wind got so bad she was not able to get the heavier bits down the slippery staircase. So when James returned, this time in a really wound up state they had the first row in years. “Bloody hell love, I did ask for everything to come down, and all the way too. Not the manacle room but in there!” he said pointing to the first of the rooms by the hatch staircase. Now Heather knew he’d said no such thing and protested. It wasn’t her fault and he hadn’t told her. “Right well come on,” he urged, leaving her behind while he went to the tower letting Heather move the bits downstairs from the manacle room. Unfortunately she tried to do this wearing heels. He found her tottering slowly along the corridor, almost falling over as she changed the snaplocks and James lost his temper. Snapping at her to hurry up and get into sensible footwear. “What’s the hurry love?” Heather asked having changed into sneakers. The girl alarmed on finding out that the storm wasn’t decreasing as expected. This would be the first direct hit of a hurricane for over a century. “I’ve got a lot on my plate so don’t need to worry about you as well. There’s even talk they’re gonna start evacuating parts of the Western Isles, Oban and Ft William in the next twenty-four hours. Any low-lying coastal bits are in danger. I’ve got a whole bloody farm to sort out, plus Wally needs help. Now get moving!” he barked, slapping her backside none too gently. That was too much for her and instead of going faster Heather petulantly began to slow down. It took him a few trips to realise she was playing up despite his repeated urging, seeing her unpacking boxes rather than shifting the next lot and took action. Catching her bending down he grabbed hold of Heather’s arms and snaplocked both wrists behind her back. She screamed at him to stop but the lad threw the girl over his shoulder then carried her into the bedroom and dropped Heather on the bed, holding her one-handed as she tried to resist. Grabbing the chain from the wall with the other he wound it round the frame a few times till only a short length remained then attached it to her collar. Removing the other one off her leg as she tried to kick him. He smirked telling her to stop struggling then secured her ankles together. Leaving her lying there unable to even sit upright. “THAT’S for misbehaving! You had enough warnings. If you shut up wailing missy I might free you before I have to leave. Got it?” That did break through her rage at what he’d done and Heather just lay there sobbing as he walked out of the room. Slamming and bolting that door too. All she heard over the next hour or maybe more was him moving stuff around, up and downstairs until he returned and came in. Seeing her distraught and helpless, her eyes red with tears. She didn’t even flinch when her wrists were freed then her legs. Miss McCreadie waited till he’d put the chain onto her ankle then freed her neck and got up. Ignoring his outstretched arms offering an apologetic hug then walking past him to go and use the toilet. “OK, suit yourself lassie,” he said shortly. Heather didn’t reply and left him standing there. Coming back she made a half-hearted attempt to apologise. Stopping when James said this time he’d have to put the hatch down on her. “No,” she replied, her face paling by the second. “I’m honestly sorry for playing up, I just didn’t think. Please don’t… just lock the corridor and the front one instead. What if it floods down here? If only the first door is done then I might be able to break it down or… well…just… don’t leave me down here,” she whispered clutching his arm. But he wasn’t in the mood and refused. “Sorry but I cannot risk it Heather. The drains are perfectly adequate. Now I need to go.” Then turned and walked out without offering her a kiss. Quickly she followed, changing snaplocks but he was faster. Passing the passagway door and flinging it shut in her face. She screamed at James not to do it but the echo of the bang drowned her voice. The bolts were slid across then a key secured her inside as she continued begging him not to leave. Instead he passed through the manacle keys and told her to remove her wrist and ankle cuffs. Heather paused and he said if she didn’t hurry up then they’d remain on her limbs. Now the girl complied, unlocking each but instead of passing them one at a time she gathered the four and stuffed them through the bars together then bounced the key off his head as he’d bent down to pick them up! “You don’t care about me anymore,” she wailed as he came up, eyes blazing with anger. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this. Didn’t she realise the danger he was in? The drive back to Braemore was going to be treacherous enough and he could feel the stronger breeze even down here. “Perhaps I care too much,” he retorted and turned away. Ignoring her banging both fists on the door as again she pleaded not to be locked downstairs. Calling him a bastard and other rude names as he hurried upward trying not to cry. He couldn’t help it as her voice taunted him so he let the chain run freely instead of through his hands. Cutting off the hysterical last screams as it slammed down on the girl he still loved whatever she did or said. James cried all the way home, only the fact it was pouring with rain as he did the gate did he manage to disguise this once drying off in the kitchen. June was concerned but he fobbed her off saying one of the gates had slammed on his fingers. Showing her the marks actually caused by punching Claggans’ walls in a rage on the way out. Ordering the castle ghosts to look after his beloved Heather… or else. Chapter 2. That was the last time he’d visited and she was convinced it had been her fault after all. She spent so many hours over the next few days just sobbing, praying to the ghosts. Even they seemed to leave her alone and at one point for the first week the boxes didn’t refill themselves and Heather had to start a rationing plan. Candles too burned until she was down to the very last one. That night she went to bed and prayed that whenever he did return that she’d do anything he desired. Next morning Heather awoke, just the one candle barely alight with an inch to go, flickering in the breeze that seemed very strong considering where she was. But she could see the others had regrown and quickly she lit them, sobbing with thanks as things got brighter. Once dressed she went next door, checking the boxes and her heart surged to see they were full again! Since then she’d prayed every day for James and his family. Today Heather did the washing up then was about to head into her sitting room when a familiar sound reached her. Moments later she was delighted as the hatch chain began to run, squeaking slightly as it obviously hadn’t been oiled for ages. The girl trembled and reached for the corridor chain, almost forgetting how to clip it on her collar. “It’s been that long dammit,” she growled, her emotions all over the place but trying to put a happy face on as footsteps came slowly downstairs. Not the usual hurry however and he looked through the bars to see her standing there. “All secured?” he asked and Heather was shocked. Not even a flicker of emotion or recognition and despite this she nodded. He couldn’t still be angry after last time? The door was unlocked and bolts drawn back then he pushed it open. James walked slowly back into her life yet STILL he showed little, carrying a couple of bags of stuff to add to her supplies. He brushed past and went into the kitchen, dumping them on the table, hearing Heather’s heels clicking behind him as she followed. “James, love… is something wrong?” she asked, shuddering when he froze. The guy turning towards her then he almost seemed to collapse. She rushed forward and caught him, easing the guy over to the bench and got James sitting down. “Ouf…” he said, his breathing a little ragged and Heather’s heart gave a jump… as she’d once been that way herself. Surely he wasn’t… ill? He looked up into her beautiful face, his own trying not to show the pain, but she knew. Taking his ice-cold hands into her own. “James, is it… that?” she whispered and he nodded as she sat alongside. “Yeah,” he said, feeling her shaking as it struck home. “I got the results yesterday. Even Kelvin doesn’t know yet, nor does mum. She’s been over with Jen for a fortnight, but coming home tonight, our lassie popped out another rug-rat a week ago.” And that was a surprise, as Heather didn’t know his sister had been pregnant. Normally he kept Miss McCreadie up to date on family stuff and that surely would have been told. So how long was it since his last distressing visit? “I’m sorry it’s been so long Heather. In fact I’d better level with you right now, but we’ll do it next door in… your bedroom please,” he said, gripping tight. They went and sat down and the tale emerged. Heather McCreadie managed not to faint on finding out it was summer… the FOLLOWING year! “It’s been that long?” and he nodded. Yep, eight months actually and its now July. Going on to say that ‘up-top’ they’d just endured the worst weather for decades. “Possibly you honey, were the safest person in Scotland down here. Especially during that October hurricane.” She nodded, clutching his hands and immediately apologised for what she’d said back then. “Yeah, I must do the same for what I did to you, I kicked myself for days afterwards. Guess the ghosts gave you some grief?” She nodded wryly and their lips met for a long kiss and they both wept as the couple held each other tight. She was appalled to hear about the damage across the country. Four hundred dead, many thousands injured and property damage running into billions. “We lost the roof off the large barn and another was written off… the small one where I found you,” he said, the girl blushing on remembering that night. He did too but apart from that they were sheltered in the valley and had escaped the worst. “Poor Wally however has lost everything. Thank goodness I was able to rescue him as his place was exposed out on the hilltop. We’d moved his stock into our spare barn so the animals made it but I had to drag him away at the end, he didn’t want to leave. Just as well I did because the farmhouse… just vanished, only the floor-base remains. He’s staying with us now. Lives in Jen’s room till his insurance pays up. He was supposed to retire years ago leaving the place… to wee Martin, my mate who died in the crash in 2006? Now we’re not sure what’s gonna happen to him.” Heather sat there fiddling with her dress as the tale continued. “I’m so glad I’d altered the vent system so your air came from the new one inside the castle walls. The pipe outside would surely have been well under the umpteen-foot drifts that have blanketed the high moors. I screwed it shut or you would have had white stuff blowing out of there, coulda made a snowman on yer carpet,” he chuckled wryly knowing Heather loved snowballing. They’d had a session in Ft William with the other girls after their ’engagement walk’. “It started days after the hurricane. That’s why I didn’t come back, we were too busy with Wally and rescuing others. Even now there’s still a lot that hasn’t melted. Never seen snow lying here in July for Petes sake.” She did mention that at one time she’d needed to block the original hole up, the first time it’d seemed painfully cold blowing down despite the top being shut. Needing to wear the old dress over her normal clothing AND use all the spare blankets. James replying,“it hit –28C not ten miles from here, guess it was that night. I really panicked, worrying ‘bout you.” She tried to smile. “Thanks, sorry but I really cursed you that time. But please honey… what’s up with you now then?” He paused and she trembled as a painfully familiar story emerged. Pains, aches, tiredness coming and going after Christmas. James couldn’t afford time off the farm and dared not say anything to his folks. “Pride go’eth before the fall? Then I did big time out in the yard two months ago. Wally was there and said I just stopped, got out of the jeep and went down like a sack of feed. He thought I’d had a heart attack, think it nearly gave him one too!” he quipped, trying to cheer Heather up though he guessed she knew what was coming. “So I was carted off to Inverness. Spent a week being prodded and probed in places too uncomfortable to mention in polite company. They found nothing. Bloodwork showed zip according to them. But I wasn’t convinced. So once back at Braemore I spoke to your Dr Chalmers, you remember her love?” Heather nodded. “Yeah Lucy was… is great…and?” “She drove all the way to see me. You didn’t know she was ex MOD?” and Heather looked amazed. “Well she is, and she tested for various contaminants having remembered me… and came up trumps. Only it’s something that hasn’t been known here… since WW2. That’s why your cancer got missed. Now… it’s my turn. I’ve got the same bloody problem you had… and she’s warned me we’ve gotta keep it secret. If it gets out, then the whole of this part of Scotlands’ in deep trouble,” he said at last. Heather gasped, surely he couldn’t be serious. “It’s not infectious, but Lucy will have to answer some very awkward questions if or when it worsens. Like how she and I know each other. The fact she knew you. She’s sure MOD would find that out too easily if I went back to hospital, so…it looks like… I’m going to have… to well, leave and go die quietly somewhere instead.” Miss McCreadie burst into tears, thinking that maybe it’d been Claggan that had poisoned both of them instead of saving her. “But James… you can’t do that!” she said, gripping tight in case he left straight away. The thought he’d lock her down here permanently was too horrible to contemplate. These last eight months had been hard enough. Knowing he’d NEVER return… no chance and she waited a few minutes before speaking. Chapter 3. “Well I’ve got an idea. Daft as it sounds but I need you to think carefully before you refuse,” she said after a long thought. “It’s a multi-part thing” and she asked the following… A. Was Lucy aware Heather was still alive, had she asked James what had really happened to her? B. If not, would she believe James if he told her the truth, bringing Dr Chalmers to see for herself? C. Would she, to avoid implicating herself again… cover up James own disappearance? D. If she agreed, was James… prepared to come and live here at Claggan full time? E. Would Kelvin and June go along with this having discovered Heather was still alive? “Well you certainly have thought this out. How long?” he asked. Not surprised Heather had wondered right from day1 whether her illness had been caused by what she’d done. “Guess I’ve had time to mull it over honey,” she said and a smile touched his lips. “But it’s too late to worry about it now. I guess if I took this chain off, I’ll be dead within minutes.” she replied, touching the snaplock on her collar and for a moment James thought she’d undo it. “No!” he barked, making her jump as she hadn’t meant to get that close. He apologised, she said nothing but looked puzzled when James reached into the other bag and pulled out her wrist cuffs. Asking her to put them on and she paused, surely this was hardly the time to start playing games. “Please Heather, just do it,” he sighed unlocking them. She shrugged and applied each one, securing them then returning the keys after repeating this for her ankles. Maybe I’m going upstairs, she thought, though as James was dressed in a heavy jacket and trousers with boots too she wasn’t sure. He’d said it was summer up there… Once done he ordered her to wriggle across the bed and allow him to snaplock her down. “James love, surely this can wait…?” Heather said but was unprepared when he took her arms then started pushing the girl down. “Alright… I’ll do it. Just WAIT A MOMENT!” she snapped, for the first time in ages becoming scared of him again. Heather now shuddered as she lay back. The ‘snip’ of each one binding her to the bed was not pleasant today and she was worried at what was happening. That more so once he’d spread-eagled her, as James then produced material, swiftly hands grabbing her jaw and applying the gag, forcing it deep into her mouth, muffling squeals as Miss McCreadie naturally began begging him not to… ...

Jim’s room had no windows. It was a small room with naked walls, and a cold, hard floor. Jim had been awake for a while now, though he could never be certain how long it had really been. The only light emanated from the small gap under the only door and to Jim’s eyes, it was bright, almost blinding. It made him very nearly certain that it was daytime already. ...

Story continues from part one Part Two Day in the Dungeon Master untied us and had us put on our cuffs on our wrist’s and ankle’s. Master dealt with Kim first. “Hand’s behind your back”. “Yes master” said Kim softly. Master grabbed her wrists and locked a small padlock through the D-ring’s in her cuffs. He knelt down and locked a 12"chain between her ankle cuffs and then buckled her ballgag into her mouth. He clipped the lead to her collar and Kim was ready for her journey. ...

Claire was a journalist and reporter for a small local news paper. She was trying to get to a bigger news outlet and was using her amazing looks and sexy body to do that. She had become a honeypot reporter, using sex to get information and then turning that into a story. A story which had a massive impact on the person she wrote about. Normally the story was based on someone in power cheating on their wife or girlfriend. They lost everything more often than not. She always used a pen name when writing for the paper. So no one would know who she was. Or so she thought. ...

Part I March 29-2017 There are times in one’s life, that a simple decision to take a much-needed trip turns out to be more than one asks for. That doesn’t mean that the original intention of taking that trip was ill advised, or that the measurement after the fact is nothing more than playing a Monday Morning Quarter Back after the Sundays Game, it just gives one the ability to Ponder Life’s Destiny and Life’s Meaning. ...

A bit of background, in addition to my regular 9-5 job, I do a bit of writing for a small community newspaper where I live. Just a bit of a way to supplement my income. I write under a pen name, so as to be able to write openly without friends and family knowing it’s me. A few months ago, the editor called me, and asked me if I’d be interested in doing a special story, as crime prevention week was coming up a few months later. I said sure, and he said we’d set up a meeting to go over some story ideas. ...

(story continues from The Bones In The Dungeon 7) Part 8: Final Betrayal Part One I slept well with the self satisfying feeling that I had done the right thing, despite my regrets at trapping the devious bookworm in the cell next to mine for all eternity. My former ghostly dungeon master had recovered my magical book from it’s hiding place in the palace library on Halloween, the one day of the year when he could, and it was with this that I freed the real Beth Eckhart and trapped the bookworm whose body I claimed for myself. She had earned her fate with how badly she had treated me, and her revealed true intentions to steal the castle and it’s wealth for her own purposes. Henry would never know how close he came to loosing his family estate, nor of my many torments with the effects of the magical seal put on my tongue by the oath I foolishly made to the bookworm in her Beth Eckhart persona. ...

The divorce had been final for almost a year. Maria and the business were long gone, it was her concept and hard work anyway. I kept the 2 acres in Connecticut and the beach house in Laguna, both already paid for, and more than enough money to enjoy them both. I wanted out and she wanted more. We were both very different people now, I had taught Maria business, and she taught me the intimacy of sex. She showed me ways to enjoy sex my rigid Connecticut upbringing never dreamed of or thought of as indecent. ...

Ed: We’d been into bondage for a long time, since the start of our relationship. And it wasn’t long before bondage was more than just part of sex play. The evenings and weekends would see Sue restrained one way or another - sometimes simply a pair of handcuffs, other times a full hogtie and harness gag. Sue: Finding someone to share my fantasies with was as much a relief as it was excitement. Years of secret thoughts and clumsy, awkward scenes fell away when we met. Not that is happened right away, it took time to build trust and experience for both of us, but we understood each other. ...

Each invitation came with a small package. The invitations were sent out in the morning by courier to mobsters throughout Metropolis and the surrounding areas. Each recipient was invited to attend a not-to-be-missed party the next evening. Since the invitation came from Lex Luthor, no one was inclined to miss the party, but the contents of the packages clinched the deal. Each package contained a pair of boxer shorts and, if the mobster had a teenaged son who would be attending, an extra pair for him. The shorts were made of limp, skin-smooth, transparent-white plastic film and came with a note recommending that the recipient wear them under his trousers while he attended the party. ...

Mary was a hard working nurse at the JR hospital in Oxford. She was on her break and going through a huge number emails and text she had just received from an unknown sender. The sender was giving her shocking information about what her boyfriend had been up to over the last 3 weeks. He had been sleeping with another women and lying to her about almost everything. Mary was secretly a sadistic and cruel girl and had come up with a horrible plan of revenge. She had a basement she never used and had money to spare, thanks to her parents. She would wait for the best moment and ruin his life. She finished her shift that night and sent him a text saying she was going to be busy and unable to meet up for a couple of weeks. This would give her some time to get things going. ...

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. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in arrest, injury or death. Kitsune F Alexander M/f; kidnapped; captive; cell; bond; gag; collar; corset; breast; piercings; bells; toys; insert; force; oral; anal; climax; enslave; cons/nc; XX Authors brief warning: this story is a bit dark, but more psychologically than physically. This is a work of fiction; in real life, consent is important, and you should not reenact anything you read without legitimately obtaining it from all other involved parties. ...

WARNING: This story contains scenes of death by impailment, if you do not wish to read such scenes then don’t read this story. The cell in the Turkish prison was damp and cold; dirty straw lying on the floor was my only bed. From the nearby cells, came the sobs and cries of my recent companions, two of whom were young women. I lay on the straw, trying not to think of the dreadful fate that awaited us in the morning. ...

story continued from part nine Chapter Ten When I got back to the cell, Jacky was on the bed sleeping and the bowl on the table was empty. I tried not to disturb her, sat at the table and began to separate the project by priorities. The first concern that I was intent in pursuing was if they had contracted an engineer for all the work involved and I needed to get in contact with him before we started. For some reason the plans in the laptop did not include the contact and name of the engineering company or the architect. ...

story continued from part five Chapter Six After landing in Ft Lauderdale, when I got up and tried to walk, it was so painful that I could not walk and deplane without help. Thom just picked me up and carried me to the limo. For some reason it was getting worse and I was developing a temperature above normal. I found it impossible to sit so, I knelt on the floor of the limo and leaned over the seat. ...

story continued from part seven Chapter Eight I was practically hanging by my head with liquid and nourishment being fed through the tube, enemas forced every so often how long in between was impossible to know and bladder being automatically relieved. It was becoming evident that I was being stored. There was a catch to my suffering storage, every movement in my rectum with the enema butt and the tube movement in my pee hole and even the forced enemas, produced an incredible orgasmic experience that I am sure the pain inflictors had no knowledge of. ...

story continued from part eight Chapter Nine Thom came into the room and Jacky automatically got on her knees and lowered her eyes to the ground. I decided to defy the humiliating gesture and see what would happen. Thom told Jacky to get up and sit back on the sofa. I knew that I had a golden egg and I was the goose for now and was going to take full advantage of it. They devised the new transgender surgery and up to now ignored the incredible effects of joining the libidos of both sexes into one body. He sat across from us and started; I have decided to assign you two to a new endeavor in a town in Florida called West Palm Beach. I purchased a mansion there, and it is being fitted to be a special B.D.S.M. club. It will have special rooms and a very special dungeon. It will be used by the richest people of the world. You both had some training here to know what has to be done and how to make sure slaves stay on discipline. ...

story continued from part four Chapter Five I woke up in a rubber covered bed and when I tried to move I noticed that I was strapped to it and covered with a rubber sheet with a penis gag in my mouth and another penis dildo up my ass causing a throbbing sensation so I surmised it must have been large. I was in total darkness but there was a somewhat familiar smell to the place. It came to me that Derek the handsome guy I had sex with last night had kidnapped me and god knows what was going to happen to me. I was uncomfortable with the intrusion in my body and nothing was happening. ...

story continued from part 12 Chapter 13: The Return of Valerie Newman One mid-morning, just before lunch, Beth and Cassandra were relaxing together in the jail cell after a particularly hard scene the night before. Mistress Allison had whipped them both to a screaming frenzy, and their bodies displayed the whip marks that they would carry for some time! Afterwards, they had sought comfort in each other’s arms: after all, what else could two naked girls do while confined in a jail cell? ...

story continued from part 13 Chapter 14: Spring Fever The deep snows of the rural Pennsylvania winter had now given way to spring, and the view from outside the picture window was now a riot of green! Springtime was the season of renewal, and Cassandra looked out of her bedroom window and reflected on how her brush with death had instead resulted in new life as bondage companion for Beth! Previously, she has just experimented as a submissive, not certain if she wanted to that lifestyle. But she had entered Beth’s house in a winter blizzard, and her life was now transformed! ...

(story continues from Jill’s Adventure into Total Slavery 6: A New Slave Arrives) Part 7: Heather and Norma get caught Tom finally contacted Jason and told him that they would be visiting in two week and the girls were looking forward to the vacation, as the last month had been very stressful, but everything was working fine and there was no major loss. Tom told the girls to go shopping for new outfits for the vacation as they earned it with their hard work over the last month. They left to go shopping, where they both bought string bikinis and skimpy outfits and Norma also bought a few sexy nightgowns to please Tom. ...

For a while I had been trying to get my boyfriend interested into bdsm. I consider myself a domme, and have been one for years. I have always known any man I ended up with would have to be strong enough to deal with this. So about a year ago, I met Mark at a charity run. We started dating. I had considered myself at the least Bi up to this time, but things kept going better and better, and became much more serious. Finally we talked BDSM. I don’t know why, but subbing a little to him just felt right, and over time we tried things, but he was always a bit clumsy about it all. ...

(story continues from Kira 2) Part Three “My Queen?” For a moment, the woman standing in the center of the room seemed not to hear. Then, slowly, she turned, hands fumbling at a buckle for the armor she wore. “What is it?” “My Queen, you have a visitor.” The woman scowled. “Do I look like I have time for a visitor? Whoever it is, get rid of them.” “Yes, my Queen. I will tell Her Majesty you are not accepting visitors today.” ...

A little glimpse of what drives me, my fetishes revolve around latex, and tight inescapable bondage. All my fantasies involve me serving a Latex Clad Mistress. I’ve visited Miss Maya several times, and every time she has pushed me and my limits to her satisfaction. I’ve never been into the pain side of the scene but have decided to try a little predicament bondage. I have scheduled a session with Miss Maya 2 weeks in advance. I find the extra time waiting to see her part of the submissive experience. ...

(story continues from Emma’s Entombment 4) Part 5 The words were repeated and she knew it was Tony himself. Her beloved husband… and executioner! Emma Cline turned around to see him standing there. Alone, smartly dressed in a suit. Suddenly realising he was wearing the same one used on their wedding day. Just like her bridal suit there in the wardrobe. Even the heels had been returned after she’d lost them at the courthouse. But why today? She got up from the floor, dusting down the simple black frock worn today. Coming closer then reaching nervously for him and they touched. The first physical contact she’d had with a human for a year. They finally kissed before Emma broke down, Tony the same and they held each other tight. His hands rubbing her trembling body, even brushing over her ass and he felt Emma twitch at that. Eventually they broke off and he led his wife to the bed. “You’re a day early… ” she whispered. Using her voice for the first time in a month, having started talking quietly to herself again. He looked at her calendar, seeing the 24th not yet crossed out. “No, your calendar is wrong sweetheart. It’s got a November 31st, same as mine and neither of us noticed.” Emma tensed up… “So it is today then? Happy bloody Christmas love… Have a death sentence as your pressie,” she sighed, Tony somehow managing to grin at that before she did with a resigned smile as they embraced again. “What happens now then?” Tony took a deep breath, dreading what he needed to say. “It goes like this. You and I have til 5pm in here, well to get ourselves ready, though as you can see I already am. When the bell tolls I have to place these on your wrists,” getting out a set of handcuffs. “Then once they’re on I knock on the door. We’re let out, whereupon I escort you downstairs, surprisingly we’ll be alone as the warder will be packing up the rest of… your stuff. He’s doing mine as we speak.” She nodded, shuddering, as the worst bit was to come. “Once downstairs I lead you outside to the courtyard. Two hundred feet away you’ll see… the pit… and the gallows beyond that.” Her fingers gripped tighter now. “We walk forward until our destinations are reached. You will be placed by myself into the hole. There are steps leading down so no jumping!” Emma gave him a stare for that one but he ignored it. “You’ll be secured to the pillar within it by cuffs, one for each of your limbs. I’ll blindfold you if you require it. Then sand will be thrown into the pit until it reaches your chest and levelled out… ” Emma shivered again… “Then wallop?” she asked and Tony nodded. Unable to speak now. “Well love, I hope your aim is good then… ” she tried to joke but now it was Tony who began to cry. ...

story continued from part 4 Part 5 The words were repeated and she knew it was Tony himself. Her beloved husband… and executioner! Emma Cline turned around to see him standing there. Alone, smartly dressed in a suit. Suddenly realising he was wearing the same one used on their wedding day. Just like her bridal suit there in the wardrobe. Even the heels had been returned after she’d lost them at the courthouse. But why today? She got up from the floor, dusting down the simple black frock worn today. Coming closer then reaching nervously for him and they touched. The first physical contact she’d had with a human for a year. They finally kissed before Emma broke down, Tony the same and they held each other tight. His hands rubbing her trembling body, even brushing over her ass and he felt Emma twitch at that. Eventually they broke off and he led his wife to the bed. “You’re a day early… ” she whispered. Using her voice for the first time in a month, having started talking quietly to herself again. He looked at her calendar, seeing the 24th not yet crossed out. “No, your calendar is wrong sweetheart. It’s got a November 31st, same as mine and neither of us noticed.” Emma tensed up… “So it is today then? Happy bloody Christmas love… Have a death sentence as your pressie,” she sighed, Tony somehow managing to grin at that before she did with a resigned smile as they embraced again. “What happens now then?” Tony took a deep breath, dreading what he needed to say. “It goes like this. You and I have til 5pm in here, well to get ourselves ready, though as you can see I already am. When the bell tolls I have to place these on your wrists,” getting out a set of handcuffs. “Then once they’re on I knock on the door. We’re let out, whereupon I escort you downstairs, surprisingly we’ll be alone as the warder will be packing up the rest of… your stuff. He’s doing mine as we speak.” She nodded, shuddering, as the worst bit was to come. “Once downstairs I lead you outside to the courtyard. Two hundred feet away you’ll see… the pit… and the gallows beyond that.” Her fingers gripped tighter now. “We walk forward until our destinations are reached. You will be placed by myself into the hole. There are steps leading down so no jumping!” Emma gave him a stare for that one but he ignored it. “You’ll be secured to the pillar within it by cuffs, one for each of your limbs. I’ll blindfold you if you require it. Then sand will be thrown into the pit until it reaches your chest and levelled out… ” Emma shivered again… “Then wallop?” she asked and Tony nodded. Unable to speak now. “Well love, I hope your aim is good then… ” she tried to joke but now it was Tony who began to cry. ...

Margo was searching a old army base in the centre of the Oxfordshire countryside. She was an urban explorer and enjoyed looking round old buildings like factories. She loved the history of abandoned structures and the ghostly feeling of them. She was a 26 year old with a out going look at life. Her long bright red hair was matched by her red lips. She had soft brown eyes and a fresh face. She was tall with an hourglass figure and had perfect curves. Her ass was stunning as was her breasts as they completed her sexy look. ...

Chapter 1 When Kate and Brad had seen the house, the cellar had been the selling point. When looking around the house they had opened a heavy door and gone down a flight of stairs into a typical looking basement, apart from the fact that just behind the stairs there was a heavy barred door and a few steps behind this door what could only be described as a jail cell. The cell was about 10 foot square, solid stonewalls on three sides and bars at the front, and the ceiling was an old heavy brick arch. ...

story continued from part one Chapter 2: New Rubber Toy Inducted The prostrate form, dazed and befuddled by the overwhelming sensory tour de force, almost instantly fell into another stupor as the vehicle slowed to a halt - the engine already silenced. After a few moments doors opened briefly and then closed - gently but seemingly with hurried purpose. She was suddenly stirred to consciousness as the hatch-cover to her compartment was unlatched and lifted upward with a squeal of hinges. ...

(story continues from The Ship’s Queen 4) Part Five “Yes, I had served with them once, why do you ask?” “It would violate a confidence if I were to tell you sir.” I didn’t want to inform on the muscular cargo man Mr. Kane, and what I thought was his rather unique form of sailor torture porn starring me getting whipped while strung up in a similar fashion. It made me wonder at the time how a cargo man could afford such an expensive device, and that in turn forced me to reflect on the Captains words in private with me about making a proper visit to Mr. Cook “in the flesh”. The implication was simple, I, (or at least my hologram), had already visited with him not in the flesh, just as I had already visited with Mr. Kane in much the same way. ...

A business trip to the back end of France, here I was in the middle of nowhere! Nothing around for miles and miles except countryside. I had not seen a single person here except for the woman that let me into the site. The site was boring but had been taken over by one of my UK customers, they wanted their IT systems integrating, which in itself had taken about 4 hours. I was booked here for a week. I was staying in an attached flat. Which was so far into rural France there was barely power. We had to pull all sorts of tricks out the bag to set up a wireless network just to get this company connected to the internet. I had completed my work, and there was nobody due back to the site for the next five days, then it was just for a test of the systems and a signature so I could be on my way back to the channel tunnel. ...

I was a student at a west coast university some years ago, with several changes in major and not really expecting ever to graduate. My way was paid in full, and I saw no reason to hurry to get out in the “real world” and get a job, and all that get up early garbage I saw some of my friends doing. My present major was political science, and the only reason I chose that was it looked easier than my last major. Despite the easy nature of my latest chosen field, I found myself falling below the GPA level that guaranteed my free ride, but fortunately I wasn’t alone. ...

story continued from part one Part Two Sarah was in real trouble as she struggled for her life inside the steel cage. Her body was killing her as the cuffs bite into her skin. The smell coming from the suit was never ending and made her feel sick. The thick rubber was making her sweat and a small lake was now rolling around her suit. Her skin was itching as the tight rubber trapped the sweat. She could no longer feel her arms and legs as they had gone numb. Her clear plastic hood was filled with condensation, sweat and drool as she cried through her leather muzzle. Her wet hair had fallen over her face as each breath streamed up the hood. ...

story continued from part three Part 4: The Wedding Album Where to begin? Each detail of that day is embedded deep within my consciousness, for it was the signal turning point in my existence. There was my life before, which seems drab and pointless now; and my life after, the thrilling, extraordinary life of a rubber slave doll that I had secretly craved long before I could even put words to it. It seems more than a union of two souls, more than a troth that was pledged; it was a kind of rebirth of body of spirit, the razor-sharp demarcation of a life begun anew, the destiny I have always been fated to fulfil at the hands of my beloved Mistress Latexa. ...

James could almost sense her high heels walking toward him. He could not wait for his rubber bondage session with his ex-girlfriend to start. James had been sent a number of emails from his ex, they had started coming through a couple of days ago. He had not talked to her for over two years and was shocked to see her communicating with him. The relationship had been great and they got on very well with each other. The reason it fell apart was down to his fetishes and the fact she was not into anything kinky. But as he read the emails, his eyes dropped to the floor. ...

Part 1. Heather McCreadie sighed as the ruined castle loomed closer. This unexpected storm had thwarted her plans for a good walk today and it was raining hard enough that she’d decided to take shelter and ride it out. Coming inside and dumping her rucksack by the door. Obviously she was alone, thirty miles north west of Inverness on a long walk to Ullapool. But now she needed to let the mountain rescue people in the closest town know she was safely in cover. A check on her map for the co-ordinates of Claggan Castle and she sent the text and her intentions to stay here overnight. She had a week’s worth of food; full water bottles topped up an hour ago, a tent and so on. Her phone bleeped and she read the kind acknowledgement from that hunk ‘Geoff’ whom she’d spoken to when sorting her route and contact times. If only he’d been single she sighed, having remembered the wedding ring on his finger. Shutting off the phone to save the batteries though she did have spares too. Despite the rain it was warm enough for her to strip to shirt and shorts, August can be cooler but not this year, with records tumbling every month it appeared. But at least with the storm it kept the midges away and she quickly doused herself in ‘Off’ in case any of the buggers had also taken shelter and wanted to torment a tourist while the clouds passed by. She replaced her walking boots with the light canvas sneakers and decided to explore. Claggan Castle was a disappointment as she went from room to room on the upper floor, sheltering in doorways as the roof had long ago fallen in. So she returned to the ground floor and had a drink before attempting the staircase into the darkness below. Torchlight showed there was little here, every room was just a dusty space, the rough stone flooring thankfully dry and she wondered whether to sleep in one tonight. There was no draught so why not? One of the last two rooms on this floor was examined, there was another staircase that led below but no way was she going down again, also it seemed to have a hatch partway down. This chamber had tiny gaps in the walls where daylight shone through as she remembered the castle was built on a slope just below the summit of the hill. So despite being one floor down from the main hall there was still illumination on this side and the girl marvelled at the design. Also it was thankfully away from the wind. Heather gasped on seeing a few old manacles hanging from chains at various places, more on the floor about two feet apart underneath each of the upper sets. “Well I never,” she gasped gently kicking one with her shoe, the faint ‘clink’ of chain making her shudder. She’d never tried ‘bondage’ herself but didn’t mind reading about it on sites. She was becoming an avid reader of these now and hoped the girls she lived with in Ft William wouldn’t find out. But no way had she allowed anyone to actually tie her up. Mainly because she’d been too embarrassed to ask either of the guys she’d dated in the past. Her hands reached up to one of the loops and gave it a prod, seeing it swing slightly under her touch. Then she tried to ease the thing apart but no surprise it was jammed. Well having been like this for a couple of centuries she’d hardly have expected less. Out of curiosity she tried all the lower ones, amazed on actually getting two of them to open. Her heart hammered as she pushed one closed again, the metal snapping shut but thankfully Heather did not have her fingers in the way. So now she reached for the higher ones, but only got one to move a little until she tried the last pair, ironically above the only floor ones that still worked. Heather’s eyes widened as she, with difficulty and a lot of effort had both of the manacles open, then snapping shut again and it made her tremble inside. She reached up and held both at the same time but didn’t dare close them round her limbs. But still imagined herself helplessly chained to the wall waiting to be…well whatever people had done in old times. Tonight’s’ session in her sleeping bag was going to be interesting. Miss McCreadie left the room and went into the last, pleased there was natural light here too, but she was surprised to see this one had an old casket set into a recess next to the fireplace. The other rooms had the same but this was the first to have been occupied. She paused then decided this had to be examined and with a lot of effort dragged the box out into the middle. A latch was eased aside and she flipped the lid up, managing not to choke as a cloud of dust came off the top. The casket was half-full of greyish material and Heather wondered whether…yes. She lifted up the first one and discovered it appeared to be the remains of some sort of robe or dress. Quite heavy material and a little smelly of course, in bad condition but not surprising considering how long it’d lain there. Miss McCreadie held it against herself, the hem just skimming the floor. Laying it to one side her torch showed there to be a couple more and these too were examined by torchlight. The last appeared to have a pattern on it and was of a higher quality fabric and considerably better condition than the other two. It thankfully didn’t smell either, though it was a lot heavier thanks to having an inner skirt. She smiled and carried the robe out of the room and back to where her rucksack was. The light here much better, Heather impressed at the find, laying it out on her camping mat. A simple stylised black cross was the main motif on the dark grey bodice, more black trim around the edges of the collar, cuffs and the hem itself and Heather wondered what it had symbolised. Again wishing she’d listened to her teachers more at school. But something about this made her pause and wonder… Would it fit her? Surely women in the 1800’s were of smaller stature and build, but Heather wasn’t exactly Amazonian. She’d been one of the smaller girls at school so was normally not picked for any of the sporting teams unless the skippers’ were desperate, instead preferring the individual athletic events. Miss McCreadie stripped naked then reached for the robe. It had hooks and eyes up the back, at least two dozen and Heather groaned, knowing she’d not be able to do them all up. A few would surely do so nervously she stepped into the heavy dress and drew it up around her waist. Impressed that her hips did indeed go in, so she carried on. Easing first one, then the other arm into the sleeves, then raising the front to cover her breasts. It was a little rough against her skin but she didn’t care. Heather was delighted as she got the top hooks secured behind her neck and a couple below that too. Reaching down behind her back then tried to get a few more from her waist upwards. Heather was so flexible and carried on till she was amazed to get them all done. It could have been made for her and the lass was thrilled. A pause to set her camera on the casket lid and snap a few photos on the timer. Posing for her lens then checking the screen and it looked great. She wandered about, the dress doing it’s best to trip her up, as Heather had never worn anything like this before but persevered. Moving her rucksack downstairs into one of the other rooms where it was dark but quite warm. Looking outside it was raining just as hard but as she didn’t intend changing plans Heather could remain here and…play? Heather McCreadie walked back into the room where the manacles were. Wondering if she had the courage to try one on. Standing up against the wall and reaching up till she held one in her right hand then shuffled across and grabbed the other. The effect was amazing and she knew it had to be done. She got them both opened then let one go and nervously placed her wrist in the other. Pausing a long while then easing it…SNAP. She gasped as it gripped her limb, the lassie almost fainting on the spot, realising that she’d actually manacled herself to the wall! Standing there for a while then getting the thing open again and freeing her wrist. Sighing as the strain on her shoulder was reduced. Heather shuddered then looked down at her feet, seeing the other cuffs either side of her. Another intake of breath then she bent down and did her left ankle. A pause and she opened her legs as far as the dress would allow then just managed to get the other one secured. Leaning against the wall Miss McCreadie looked above, seeing the manacles either side and smiled. “Well you got this far,” and reached up and grabbed both with some difficulty, as they seemed higher up. Then she realised that with her legs apart it was her that was lower. But she still managed to get her wrists inside with fingers now gripping the fronts. Tapping them lightly against the walls but the cuffs wouldn’t close. So she paused then did it much harder and this time it worked fine. The two manacles snapped around her wrists and she gasped again. The feelings were incredible and Heather closed her eyes at what she’d just done. Now chained by ALL FOUR limbs to a remote castle wall! Heather began to moan, imagining hands running over her dress, fingers reaching for her breasts, sighing as someone began to play with her nipples that were now straining against the bodice. Tremors rushed through her body and more hands began to lift her robe up! Her eyes snapped open at that and she looked down, but of course there was nobody here… However her dress WAS moving of its’ own accord! Now bunching to around her waist and Heather squealed in shock… only for an invisible hand to clamp itself over her mouth, holding her firmly as she naturally began to struggle. More fingers running over her legs… all heading north and Miss McCreadie bucked violently against the wall as she felt one begin to slide into where it matters most. She tugged hard on the cuffs; her hands straining against the cold metal and at one point she thought one was about to give way. But the invisible fingers began to run in and out and she shuddered, flushing too on feeling herself start to get wet! Just when Heather was thinking she’d get to orgasm the fingers withdrew, her dress flopped down and she was left groaning in disappointment! What a tease her imagination had been to her and a smiling Miss McCreadie relaxed in her bonds, trying to tug one wrist free without hurting too much. Trouble being the last time she’d really had to strain with both hands to get one open. Now with her wrists a couple of feet apart and no way of closing the gap because of her legs like that, it started to dawn on Heather that maybe she had a problem here and really was stuck! The thought terrified her, but the shame of getting herself into this was equally damaging and Heather tugged harder on the cuffs now. Really digging painfully into her hands now, then she squealed as one suddenly snapped open, almost throwing her off balance. She paused, breathing heavily and sighed, reaching up and after a few minutes of straining the other flicked open too. Heather almost sobbed with relief; cursing herself for stupidity and having got her breath back bent down to start… Miss McCreadie screamed when the invisible hands grabbed her arms and torso, pushing her back hard against the wall, wrists being slapped into the cuffs again and them snapping around. Her face held firm. Muffling the wails as her dress began to rise and once round the waist she felt something entering …and this time it definitely wasn’t a finger! Easing itself into her and of a size that normally she’d have appreciated seeing the hunk that possesses it… but NOT now despite what she’d thought earlier. It began… in and out, really working her over, and though she tried to resist her body couldn’t take that much of this. Heather began groaning again as the rhythm increased and she started moving to match it, gripping as best she could until the inevitable happened. Crashing over her like a wave and Heather screamed into the hand holding her jaw before passing out. Coming to later on Heather groaned as the headache surged through her. Lying in her sleeping bag, two ‘nightlight’ candles burning on the floor nearby. THAT made her sit up and after popping some painkillers with water Miss McCreadie flicked on the torch. Seeing her rucksack where she’d left it and that was baffling, as somehow she’d changed rooms too, as there were no manacles in here. Heather wriggled out of her bag, using the torch to examine her wrists and ankles. Stunned to see no signs of bruising at all. The way she’d tugged her arms there surely should be some marks…but no. Also she was dressed in normal 21st century clothing with no sign of that dress. So had she dreamt the whole thing up? But it was a little chilly now so Heather got back into her bag and minutes later dozed off again. Up bright and early next morning Heather McCreadie cooked herself breakfast on the little stove then packed it away. A last look round and no surprise found herself back in the dungeon, though she still did not intend to go downstairs to the next level because of the blockage. Those cuffs hung there and she shuddered, wondering whether to try… “No chance!” she grinned and turned away. Peeking next door she saw the box where the dress had come from, in the recess as expected. A closer look and it appeared as if it’d never been touched, a faint layer of dust on top. Having sent her planning text Heather departed Claggan Castle, her mind churning at the thought of those cuffs and that dress. Why she couldn’t shake it off she didn’t know. Perhaps rather than reading a story she ought to write one and contribute it! All that day as she tramped across the countryside Heather could almost hear the clank of chains in time with her footsteps! At one point convinced she heard horses thundering past, their riders urging the animals onward. So she was mightily relieved to get to the village at Braemore, the place where she’d rejoin the A835 to Ullapool. Her farmhouse bed and breakfast a hundred yards short of the road itself where traffic was hurrying to get to the port before the last boat left. A footpath followed this course but half a mile parallel, so she’d do the last 11 miles in peace before her ferry left at 3pm on Monday, the girl having decided to do a circular walk tomorrow and stay here again if there was room. Checking in with the farmer’s wife, June showing Heather to her room then offering tea and some rather delicious cakes which the girl found hard to resist after a strenuous day’s trekking. The owner himself, Kelvin joining the pair later on, saying their son, James would be home from the market soon but would not be meeting up with them yet. The tractor had a flat tyre so he’d need to repair it before nightfall. Miss McCreadie was able to get some washing done in the sink, having a dig into the top of her rucksack where dirties were kept separate from the rest. They chatted on while the girl did her stuff, pleased that the visitor wasn’t one of those that just stayed in their room rather than interact with them. Also the room was available for the two days and Kelvin suggested a walking route that could easily be done in a few hours. Checking Heather’s map and seeing the girl had the newest version that had only been out a couple of weeks. “Nice to see some youngsters know what they’re doing. City kids have no idea!” he grumbled. The girl smiling as she cleaned one of her pairs of boots, rewaxing them at the same time. June impressed the slightly built Heather was able to carry such a load as she held the bag briefly. The youngster explaining, “My father was a Regimental Sergeant Major in the Paras’ he used to carry eighty pound packs all the time. When I went trekking with him, he always trained me to ‘earn your keep young missy. Don’t carry what ye dinna want!” he’d say as we’d set off for another fifty plus mile weekend. But they kept me fit I can tell you and my current trips still do. No need to pay silly prices to go to a gym.” A wistful smile at the old man and her mum, sadly two years gone now, she missed them so badly. The elders nodded Kelvin now knowing why she was so well prepared. Heather found the phone signal here was poor so used their landline to call Dornoch to let them know she was safely off the high moors, then a second to Stornoway, to her friend Mary, the lass she was visiting on Monday. However she found out from Mary’s mum that the girl was going down with a bad cold and would be unlikely to want to go hiking later on. She’d call Heather at the farm tomorrow and let her know whether to come over. “OK, thanks for the advice, bye.” June commiserated with her when Heather said a call might be for her Sunday evening. Miss McCreadie pleased that at least she hadn’t paid for the ferry tickets yet. “I’ll do the circular walk tomorrow, stop here with you then we’ll see.” They thought that good advice and Kelvin suggested a few paths around Ullapool that Heather could do if she got stuck there. Once tea was cleared away she finished the washing and hung it up, leaving the kitchen and wandered about the farm, seeing a jeep arriving and what could only be described as ‘Young farmer HUNK!’ emerging from the battered old vehicle. Coming over to see whom this pretty blonde thing was leaning against a wall with a small camera snapping the scenery nearby. Greeting her cautiously, because his hands were covered in muck as he apologised, his eyes roaming over the rather tight T-shirt and shorts displayed there. Not a voluptuous figure but more athletic than he’d seen for a while, Athena tennis poster girl maybe. However that face was easily stored away in the memory box as one of the better ones to have stayed recently. Even more of a smile on later finding out she’d be here all day tomorrow too! Heather couldn’t help blushing then told him the good news about the tractor, surprising the lad on an offer to assist if he wanted? “Nothing else to do so why not. I can handle a spanner thanks.” Well… another chance to closely eye up that body was easily going to be accepted and they headed for the barn. It took them two hours to get the wheel sorted and do some other stuff, seeing Heather appeared happy to help doing whatever was needed. She just seemed to be one of those kind people rarely seen these days. Both got thoroughly dirty but laughed about it, high fiving the other as June called the pair in for supper. James and Heather quickly rushing through showers and at least the farm had plenty of hot water for them both! ...

story continued from part ten Chapter 11: Notice of Discipline One of the rooms in Beth’s house served as her office. After all, she was wealthy, and not only had a family fortune, but she also served on the Boards of several large corporations! In fact, it was a fully functional office, with a computer, printer, copier, file cabinets, water dispenser, and even a coffee maker! There was even a separate desk for a secretary, if she had one! ...

Mary flopped down in the nearly empty train carriage. It was late in the evening and the rush hour was long over. At the end of long day stocktaking and a walk to the station through the sudden summer downpour she felt spent. Thank goodness she now had a week off to recover! She rested her hand on the next seat to change her position and realised that she had placed it on a discarded magazine. She picked it up and looked at the cover and blushed. The front was taken up by the title “Pony Experiences” and a large picture of a naked girl dressed in a strange harness. ...

The Research Phase Ira Miller had been scouring dozens of alluring websites for weeks, now that he had filed his tax return & saw a substantial refund coming his way. He could finally afford the vacation of his wildest dreams, a trip abroad to a week at a rubber “camp” specializing in bondage & discipline. Admittedly, the pictures of the owners of these highly esteemed establishments were powerful motivators, as were the descriptions of the elaborate bondage rituals they held in store for their prospective customers, catering to a wide variety of tastes & sexual idiosyncrasies. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: At Inga’s Mercy Ira already had the feeling that Bettina had prepared him for a domination session that would make his first day seem easy. Inga locked the chain from the second alcove’s arch to his collar post as she removed Bettina’s from the first. She was a solid, muscular woman of about 35, with broad cheeks & a diminutive, but graceful nose with a straight bridge & slightly upturned tip. She had long blond hair that hung in two braided pigtails, & she wore an all black well polished latex catsuit stretched to its limits. Her powerful biceps & calves glimmered in the fiery light of the hallway. “A tight-skinned shiny pork sausage with an attitude, built like a brick shithouse” thought Ira to himself. He wasn’t exactly enthralled to be her prisoner, but, all things considered, he submitted to her somewhat deliberate demeanor. ...

James slowly started to regain consciousness as he come back to the real world. His vision was blurry and his mind was hazy as he struggled to see clearly. The area he was in was pitch black with only a couple of red lights in the corners of the room. He tried moving his arms and legs and found he was unable to do so. He tried to speak and not only did his jaw remain still, but he couldn’t hear a thing. It was like he had said nothing at all. His body felt compressed and squeezed by an unknown force. He also had an odd smell filling his nose each time he breathed in. He wanted to know what the hell was going on. What had happened to him last night? He was having a great time an a local music club as a heavy metal band played on stage. The lead singer was a stunning and kept looking at him as she screamed into the microphone. He loved the way she looked as she jumped around the stage like a mad hatter. She was wearing some shiny black leggings and a leather corset that covered her body. She was also wearing a leather dog collar and black gloves that worked their way down her arms to her shoulders. She was as hot as hell as her long black hair rocked around her. He couldn’t see her face very well, thanks to the endless flashing lights and other people in the crowed. He was a little bit drunk and wanted this hot girl in his bed tonight, so after they finished he went over to her. They talked for a short while and then they left the club in each others arms. She had asked him back to her place and after a couple of drinks and a good laugh, they had gone to bed. Oddly his brain was at a blank as to what happened in the bedroom. He kept thinking about what may have happened for the next 5 minutes until his brain remembered what the odd smell was. He was not looking for the answer to that question and found it distracting at first. But slowly it worked it’s way into the centre of his thinking. The odd smell was latex, 100% it was latex. Now why could he smell latex? And could that have anything to do with the night before. He remembered her outfit from last night, it was black and shiny. It could have been latex and she could have a latex fetish. Fetish was a word that made him uneasy. He had seen a number of different fetishes on the television and in books over the last few years. They all looked odd and wierd. Not something he wanted to be a part of and was starting to hope he had not had sex with this girl now. She was likely to be a nutter and he needed to get far away from her. James hated odd people and wished the world was a more normal place. He had no idea how right he was about this girl. But he had no hope in hell of escaping her latex bondage cell. She had mixed drugs into his drinks and had got the cold concrete bondage cell ready. She waited for him to finish his 4th drink of the night, before leading him to the cell. The second she opened the door to his new home, he tried to run away. The image of the room was burnt into his wide open eyes. He struggled to put one leg in front of the other as the drugs started to hit him. He used the wall to aid himself as he tried to make it to the front door. His legs had start to fold over and his eyes had started to close. He was fighting to stay awake as she softly smiled at him. His body was becoming numb and his vision had left him in the dark. Soft moans broke free from his lips as his mouth lost the ability to talk. He was now breathing heavily on the floor as the last bit of life left his body. He was out cold and just a couple of steps from the exit he so wanted. She removed his street clothes and dragged his into the concrete cell. Once inside she forced him into a tight rubber bondage suit. The suit covered every inch of his body in the warm latex. The only part of his body not covered by the rubber was his dick. The rubber suit was already well lubed and had been shinned. The rubber suit was squeezing into his body as she added a very special outer layer. It was a rubber vacuum suit. The suit was a little bit bigger then his bondage suit and covered his whole body, from the neck down. His dick went into a glass cage and torture device. She closed and locked the zip at the back of the suit and started the vacuum. She had lubed the inside of the vacuum suit so the rubber did not stick together. The vacuum slowly enclosed his body in a very tight grip as the air was sucked out. The now vice like suit was being emptied of air at an alarming rate. The rubber suit folded itself around his hands and feet. It pressed itself against his rubber covered body and made breathing hard work. As the last of the air was taken from the rubber suit, it become almost solid. The rubber crushed into James’s latex covered body as the vacuum completed it’s work. The way the suit wrapped around his body made it look like he had flaps. They outlined the whole rim of the suit from his neck to his toes. It helped make the suit airtight and it hid the opening to undo the vacuum. Now the bondage suits had been completed it was time to add a collar and a couple of hoods to the mix. The first hood covered his head completely apart from four small holes for him to breath through and see out of. The thick rubber bondage hood also had padding around his eyes and ears. The hood had a build in penis gag which filled James’s mouth and made speaking impossible. The gag controlled his teeth, tongue and jaw. She laced the hood closed and placed a padlock at the base of the hood to stop it from coming off. The holes around his eyes allowed him some light and vision. But he could only see a small dot of colour against the darkness of the hood. She then placed the second bondage hood over his rubber head. This one looked like a cross between a diving mask and space helmet. The back part of the hood was rubber with a web of straps running across it. A zip could be seen running down the back of the hood. The front of the mask was see through glass from top to bottom and side to side. In the centre on the inside was a rubber face mask with a number of tubes coming from it. The tubes exited the mask near the chin and worked their way around the right side of the hood, just below the ear. The rubber face mask would cover his mouth and nose. The tube would give him air from a controlled supply. She squeezed the hood over his head and closed the zip, then she pulled the straps tightly around his head. She when added the neck long leather collar to his outfit. The collar would stop him from moving his neck more than a couple of inches in any direction. It was gripping his neck in a tight embrace as she locked it shut. Now that her new subject was suited and booted it was time to put it in some bondage. She already had 10 leather cuffs with heavy chains ready for him. She also had a spreader bar for his ankles and knees. The concrete cell had a web of eye hooks on both the floor and ceiling. From which long heavy metal chains had been rolled into a circle like a snake. She also had some large metal belts waiting for him as well. First she placed a leather cuff on each of his ankles and closed them as tightly as she could. She then locked the spread bar to the ankles cuffs to kept his legs wide apart. She then locked the spread bar and cuffs to the floor by using two of the eye hooks and accompanying chains. She pulled the chains until they had no give left in them. His ankles had now been bound to the floor and they would be followed by his knees. Placing two more of the leather cuffs round his knees and linking a smaller spread bar between them, she restrained his lower legs. She once again chained them to the floor and padlocked everything shut. With James unconscious and folded over at the stomach, it was getting challenging to work on him. So she added two cuffs to his wrists and elbows and grabbed a couple of chains from the eye hooks on the ceiling. And started to put them together above his head. She may have been around 6ft, but it was hard to reach his stretched out hands. She did it by standing on the spreader bar between his knees and climbing up his body. With him acting as a footstool, she connected the chains to the cuffs and pulled them tightly closed. His arms now hang lifelessly above his head. With another layer of bondage around his elbows. She was careful not to rip the rubber vacuum suit on her way down and checked it over the second her feet hit the ground. She was smiling at her helpless victim as she wrapped three large metal belts around his body. The belts squeezed the air from his body as she padlocked them closed. She then joined them to the floor and ceiling using the chains. The rubber vacuum suit was folding over the metal belt as she add a chain to his collar. It would keep his head pointing towards the ground. She then added the last set of cuffs to his upper legs and locked them to the ceiling with chains. He was now completely bound and anchored to both the ceiling and floor. The cuffs and belt cut into him and the rubber suits added almost painful pressure. He would never escape from his new home. She still needed to set up the toy covering his dick. But she wanted him to wake up first. She wheeled over a large metal table with two levels. On both levels, she had placed a mountain of machinery with tubes and wires running all over the place. She joined up the tubes from his breathing mask to a machine on the top level. It would now control his breathing. She had done it. Now she just needed him to woke up and live out a real nightmare. So she turned off the lights, locked the door and waited. James slowly started to regain consciousness as he come back to the real world. His vision was blurry and his mind was hazy as he struggled to see clearly. The area he was in was pitch black with only a couple of red lights in the corners of the room. He tried moving his arms and legs and found he was unable to do so. He tried to speak and not only did his jaw remain still, but he couldn’t hear a thing. It was like he had said nothing at all. His body feel compressed and squeezed by an unknown force. He also had an odd smell filling his nose each time he breathed in. The memories from last night come crashing back to James as he become fully aware of what happen. He was no longer dead to the world and started struggling for movement. He found almost nothing more and if it did, it was only an inch or two. He was in bondage and he hated bondage. He could only see through a pin hole, he could not speak and he was completely deaf. This was serious bondage. He had no idea about his new mistress entering his concrete tomb, until she started playing around with his new penis toy. Because of the technically placed holes in his rubber suits, she could remove the cage and add some fun toys. She could do everything without deflating the vacuum suit. The suits also acted as a cock ring and kept blood trapped in his penis. Which meant the second she removed the cage (the only thing keeping his cock safe) His dick was rock hard and pointing skyward. She was smiling away to herself as her dreams of having an unwilling slave to torture. His dick would be her play thing for as long as she wanted. She had a long steel pole in her hand ready. Lube was dripping from in and onto the floor as she moved it into position. The pole was the same size as his piss hole and would be hell to insert. The lube would help her push it all the way in. Adding some lube to the tip of his penis, she started drilling it into him. He started to breath as quickly as he could and the chains started to rattle as he tried to break them. Inch by inch the steel pole worked it’s way down the small hole. She was playing with him as it reached the end of his manhood. She quickly added a clear plastic strap at the base of his cock and another just below the tip. The metal pole had a ring on the top of it. The two plastic straps had four smaller rings, one on each side. She linked four metal chains to the top ring and then vertically linked them to the rings on the straps. Each chain was tighten to an almost penis bending level. She then added four shock pads to the shaft of his dick and started working on the balls. She was going to use a vice like device to crush his worthless balls. Two black plastic squares where placed above and below his balls. She then added four screws to each of the corners and started closing them. For the first minute he felt nothing and then pure pain shot from his balls. The vice had them in it’s grasp. She was loving his reaction as she locked the cage back onto the suit. She flicked a switch and the cage begin to empty of air. She was making another vacuum, but his time his manhood was the target. The air quickly disappeared from the cage as his cock was stretched out even more. She then turned the e-slim on and set the levels to low. She would work her way up the volume. She also wanted to give him something new to smell. The odor from rubber tubing, must be getting boring by now. So she added a new tube into a free port on the breath control machine. The tube had a rubber dildo at the end of it. The breath control machine had a computer operated pump and two re-breather bags. The tube connecting to his face mask was right next to the bags as was the new dildo tube. The pump filled the bags with air every 60 seconds. But in the time before that happened he would be breathing air out of the rubber bags. He would now also be taking in air from her rubber dildo. Which would be placed deep inside one of her holes. She unzipped her red rubber catsuit at the crotch and let her pussy and ass come out. She then rubbed some lube on the dildo and slid it into her wet pussy. She had spent the night masturbating herself to sleep and had not showered all day. She played with the e-slim as he struggled for dirty air. She could see him trying to break the cuffs and chains by pulling them. She could hear soft moans from his bondage hoods. She then slid the dildo into her perfect ass. Her other hand was playing with her pussy as she felt him sucking air through the tube. Her heart was racing as the dildo was compressing and expanding with each grasp of air he took. She turned the e-slim to maximum and started kissing the dildo. She was playing with it as he continued to breath in and out. Using her hands and mouth, she pretend it was a real cock. She lined herself up with his eyes holes and give him a show. Not that he enjoyed it as he was shocked endlessly. ...

story continued from part five Chapter 6: Kate Gets Flogged Cassandra stood in gagged silence during the strangest elevator ride in her life as they descended to the basement. Mistress Allison stood in her leather dress, holding Cassandra’s leash. Both Cassandra and Beth were naked, gagged, and chained together. Once a previous boyfriend had asked Cassandra if she wanted to do a quickie in an elevator, but Cassandra had refused, pointing to the camera projecting from the ceiling. ...

story continued from part two Chapter 3: A Strange Job Offer When Cassandra awoke the next morning, it was to brilliant sunlight streaming through the window! Her eyes opened, and she slowly awoke, comprehending that the snowstorm that had brought her to this strange house had ended. Rubbing her eyes, she wondered if yesterday’s events had all been just a dream. But no, the bed smelled of sex, her lips still had the taste of another woman upon them, and finally the collar was still locked upon her neck, and the chain still held her fast to the wall! ...

story continued from part three Chapter 4: Shared Captivity “Lift your hair,” ordered Mistress Allison. It was early evening, and Cassandra and Mistress Allison were standing in the basement next to the washing machine. Displayed on the domestic appliance were a collar; a set of gleaming handcuffs; a leash; and a red rubber ball gag. It didn’t take much to make a girl helpless! Cassandra stood silently as Mistress Allison locked the leather collar around her neck. She was wearing a blouse and skirt; and a pair of high heels on her feet; with nothing underneath. ...

story continued from part four Chapter 5: Wage Slavery When Cassandra awoke the next morning, she found that she was alone in the cot. Beth was in front of the prison sink/toilet; calmly brushing her teeth. “Good morning,” said Beth. “Good morning,” Cassandra replied as she sat up, naked as her companion. Beth washed her mouth out with a cup of water, then proceeded to wash her face. When she was finished, she toweled herself off. ...

(story continues from Sisterly Curator) Part 2 After what seemed like an eternity and falling asleep several times, there was a brief buzz swiftly followed by the lights flickering into life. A few more seconds and I could hear the door being unlocked. Jade walked over to me calmly, unclipped the chains, and helped me up into a sitting position. “What time is it?” my voice cracked and croaked. “It’s about 7:30” she said calmly. ...

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon in autumn; Vicki had walked to the local shops to grab some bits and bobs for lunch. As normal for a Sunday we had been playing beforehand so she had decided as she often does to simply wear what she was wearing around the house. Vicki liked to get the curtains twitching in our little village, today she was wearing suede thigh boots, leather mini skirt, with a simple cropped denim Gillet. She had a whole bunch of bangles on each arm, mostly because she liked the jingle when she moved, but they also help to cover up the handcuff marks on her wrists! ...

Bunny was one of four friends that searched and explored old abandon buildings in and around the city of Oxford. Bunny was a lively and loud character with her long purple hair dropping over her beautiful face. Her large breasts popped out of her chest so did her perfect ass. She was just under 6ft and had a slim and trimmed body. Bunny was dressed in a rock and roll style with black leggings and a leather jacket. She was also wearing white converse shoes and white Animal T-shirt. Bunny was one hell of a good looking girl. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: Why Still breathing heavily in the blackness of his bondage cell. James started to take in what had happened to him over the last couple of days. His dick was starting to turn the same colour as the rubber it was bound in. The pain shooting from his cock was causing him a dark pleasure. He was starting to love the rubber suit and total bondage. Jess had started to break his mind and body through her sadistic tactics. She was taking control of his whole life and more importantly his manhood. He knew he was in deep trouble and with each day that passed the punishment would only get worst. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Controlled Having somehow happened to have fallen asleep or more likely passed out from the torture. James woke up still completely covered in rubber and restrained to his bondage bed. His rubber suit was filled with sweat from the night before. His semen and blood had pooled and dried around his ass and over the padded bed. Breathing slowly through his nose the pain from last night was returning. Still taped and unable to move the fear of what may happen to him today filled his mind. How long would it take Jess to control him in both body and mind. His penis was pleading to be released from the metal chastity cage. Luckily the Viagra had passed through his system and his dick was not pressing against the cage any more. ...

James was ten minutes early for the date of his life. Silently waiting for Jess the girl of his dreams to arrive. Sitting right at the back of his favourite pub in the centre of Oxford, he nervously sipped his drink. The pint of Fosters he had ordered barely went down after each sip. His hand shaking a little more with each minute that ticked by. He kept checking his phone to see if she had text or called him. But there was nothing but the text from earlier in the day. About meeting up for a drink and a meal. James had got his date a red wine for when she finally walked through the door. Suddenly he spotted a flash of long red through the crowed of people around the door and bar. It was her. Luckily she soon spotted him waiting for her and walked over. She looked stunning tonight with her black leather jacket and boots, tight leggings and black Atticus t-shirt. It was a great rock and roll look and it suited her down to the ground. James stood up and give her a quick kiss and cuddle before pulling her chair back so she could sit down. He then sat down himself and asked if the wine was o.k. She thanked him for getting it said it was nice. They then looked through the menu and ordered some food. They stared talking about a number of different things. From films and music to the news and the weather the date was going well. The food was very nice and the drinks kept coming. James was paying for everything and was a little bit shocked when Jess said she would get the next round. James asked her to get him another pint of Fosters and then he needed to head home. Jess left the table and went to the bar. She took her time getting served and walking back to the table. And the pint of Fosters she give him tasted a little bit off. Maybe she had played a joke on him and added a shot of vodka. He was never going to ask if she had done anything. That would have been a stupid thing to do. He just continued drinking and talking to her until the pint was empty. It was now time to head home and sleep off the six pints he had drunk. Jess had only had one alcoholic drink all night and was fine to drive. Happily she had parked right outside the pub and they where soon in her blue Ford Focus. They started driving back to James’s house which was only 5 minutes drive away. James himself was feeling a little dizzy and had a headache and wanted to go to bed. Jess asked if he would like some water to help and handed him a 500ml bottle of water. James almost drunk the whole 500ml in one go and soon felt a little better. Then out the corner of his eye he spotted that they where leaving Oxford and driving into the countryside. He was feeling heavy and his eyes had started to blur. He tried to open his mouth, but nothing happened. He was trying to keep his eyes open with what little energy he had left. But it was no good. He was soon completely dead to the world. The car kept going deeper into the darkness. James had been drugged by Jess. As it happens more than once. She had put a couple of sleeping pills in his last pint and the water was mixed together with chloroform. When you mixed the two together you would be sound asleep for some time. Two hours later Jess parked the car outside a small wooden farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. The place looked completely abandoned and unused for years. Jess got out the car and walk up to the old wooden door and pushed it open. It almost fell off it’s rusty hinges as it opened up. Jess went into the dirty old house and headed for the ground floor bedroom. The room was completely empty of stuff and light. Jess knew what she was doing as she walked into the centre of the room and lifted up an area of carpet. Hidden under a small bit of removable carpet was a secret door. You needed to enter a password to open the thick metal door. It looked like it was from an old submarine. Jess quickly entered the password. “rubberhell” There was a loud clicking and unbolting sound as the door lifted up. Lights flickered on illuminating a short vertical metal ladder and another metal door at the bottom. Jess climbed down the ladder reaching the second door. The walls around her were painted black and felt like they where closing in on her. She needed to enter another password to continue. She soon keyed it in. “iwilltortureyou” The same clicking and unbolting echoed from the door as it opened. Jess turned a number of switches on, which poured light into the stainless steel room. Right in the centre of the room was a large stainless steel cell/cage/prison/box it’s up to you what you call it. It has only one enter or exit and is completely soundproof. The cage was it’s only little world completely cut off from anything or anyone. And in this new world Jess was god. It took her a couple of hours getting James from the car to the first room. She needed to use a body harness and some rope. But somehow she made it happen. The secret underground camber was split into the inner and outer room. The inner room was the inescapable metal prison cell. And the outer room was for getting the prisoner ready for his time in the prison cell. Jess had all the time in the world to put her captive in his new outfit and lock him in place. She started with a full black rubber catsuit which closed tightly around his unconscious body. The thick rubber suit would cover his hands and feet as well. His cock and balls where not left out as the rubber was wrapped round them. It looked like he was wearing a condom and his dick and balls where pointing out from the suit. She locked the zip at the back of the beautiful suit closed then she moved onto the next item. ...

How long had it been. Betty could not say. She knew she was under ground. She had not seen the light of the sun since she was kidnapped and brought here. Where ever ‘here’ was. A body harness was underneath a simple t-shirt. The harness encircled the neck, chest and waist and slipped between her legs. Hands manacled behind her that connected to the harness. The t-shirt was extra long so it covered past the hips. A short chain hobbling her ankle so she could only walk heel to toe. Then a slip on work out shoe. That was it. ...

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. Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2014 by The Technician ( [email protected]. ) Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden. ...

This is a story I co-wrote with my kinky female friend SadiaX. We take turns adding from the point of view of our own character. Part One I love my job with the British Intelligence, I have been part of many successful recon missions over the years. The salary is great and it means I can travel the world. It hadn’t always been easy, my initial 6 weeks survival training with the SAS acquiring all the skills I would need was very challenging, especially the interrogation tactics weekend. I have built up quite a reputation amongst the underworld and have evaded capture on several occasions. My career is my life, I have no time for family or friends but then my role as a British secret agent requires a degree of detachment from emotional involvement. That said, I miss intimate contact with another which proves difficult sometimes owing to my high sex drive. ...

“My Lord Aloric?” The man named Aloric glanced up from his desk. “Yes?” “My Lord, we have the item you purchased.” Aloric smiled. “Very good. Bring her in.” Nodding, the man backed from the room, only to return a moment later with another. Between them, they carried a bundle that squirmed and grunted in their grasp. Once inside the door, they set the squirming bundle on the floor. “On her feet, if you please.” ...

What the fuck was I thinking? How could I trust a perfect stranger to do this to me? I’m not sure how long I’ve been here since he left me in the bondage I desired to be in. All sense of time has left me. Has it been just minutes? Hours? Feels more like days. It really doesn’t matter, though. I no longer desire to be here. I desire freedom. But, how far is that from now? I just wanted out! ...

“Pillow talk”, she called it. The openness she showed after a night of awesome sex. The openness about what she was thinking, as well as her deepest fantasies. He was wanting to do something really personal to pop the question. People keep talking about “the romantic proposal”, but Devon wasn’t like that. She didn’t care about the roses, about the “girlfriend talk” about proposals. She knew what she wanted in a wedding, but didn’t really care about the proposal. This will work to his advantage. He started thinking about a way to give her a proposal that she will remember – not necessarily from a “share with the priest” perspective (we may have to make up a story for that one), but more for a “fulfill a fantasy” memory. ...

Story based on an original story entitled “The Trap” by Wanda Tara and I had been co-workers for a few months. We worked together at a clothing company that specialized in latex, leather and bondage wear. Even though we both landed our jobs at around the same time, Tara always told everyone that she had seniority over me. Truthfully, from the moment that we started we had been competing with one another in all of our projects. Let’s face it, niche companies like ours needed to watch its expenses, and we both knew that the company really only needed one fetish fashion designer. I tried not to be overtly competitive, but I knew that she was doing everything in her power to keep her job. ...

Carnaj now has two books out on Amazon, click here to visit the page where you can view and purchase two books, one containing a short story by him, as well as an actual novella. Both contain bondage. Hopefully you will check them out… A man submits himself as a Ward of the State for a weekend of Stress Relief at a Mental Institution. Due to a clerical foul up he is scheduled for intensive bondage and restraint, more so than he signed off for… ...

story continues from part nine Part 10: The Jacket Kat was now bound in place waiting to be feed some horrible mix of so called food. She could still just about see Jess still struggling across the room from her. Her mouth was ready and willing to accept any food that came down the plastic tube. Kat was not ready or willing to be humiliated in this way. But for some unknown reason she was still turned on by the idea. Her catsuit squeaked as Kat struggled to escape from the feeding hood and bondage chair. “Would you like to know what’s for dinner tonight Kat?” Kat tried to shake her head to say no. But her head was locked in place. “Well you remember your latex prison cell. I kept you locked in that small room for seven days and only feed you through a small plastic tube in the ceiling. But I also used the room as a toilet for seven days as well if you remember. Well I said I would clean it, I lied. I sucked all the piss, cum, shit and rotten food into the tank above your head. I even did the same with the latex catsuits you where wearing. I would not like to be you in 10 seconds time.” Kat woke up the next day, she was naked and locked in a huge steel cage. She was restrained with thick metal cuffs, they wrapped around her legs, stomach, neck and wrists. All the cuffs where locked together with thick steel chains. Kat was also hooded. The thick latex hood had a built-in rubber gag and blindfold. The hood was tightly laced up at the back, it was also padlocked. Kat was also wearing a thick leather collar with a number of D-rings. Kat had loved the feeding hood from the day before, even thinking about it now made her wet. She wanted to be back in the feeding chair. ...

story continues from part eight Part 9: Latex Prisoner Part 2 Kat looked longingly into the only light filling her latex cell, wishing she would be released from this hell-hole. She had been kept locked in this room for seven days now, her Master had been nice enough to feed Kat through the plastic tube. Unlucky for Kat the food and drink she was given often fell into the horrible mix of piss and cum that filled her cell. Kat would still eat it, she need to please her Master. ...

(story continues from Slaviversary 3: Little Boy’s Random Memories Pt 1) 4: Little Boy’s Random Memories Pt 2 I was trying to catch my breath as I lay, still hogtied, on Mistress’s leather clad lap. I was bare from my chest to my knees. Helena had pulled the waists of my sweatpants and shirt in opposite directions so she could tickle me more efficiently, and Mistress had seen no reason to alter that. ...

story continues from part seven Part 8: Latex Prisoner Kat woke up from her bondage hell at about 2pm the next day. She was laying in her master’s bed completely naked. She was broken, her hair and make up where ruined. Her body was still covered in sweat from the day before. She still stank of heavy latex from her early bondage session. Kat quickly got out of bed and started looking for her master. But he was gone, Kat had been left in the farmhouse by herself. Waiting for her in the living room was a video message from her master. Kat hit the play bottom on the remote control and the TV sprang to life. “Hello again Kat. I have been needed at work, so have had to leave the farmhouse. I should be gone for a couple of days. You should be o.k for food and drink and the TV has lots of channels for you to watch. However I have padlocked any room in the house which contains bondage equipment. Do not want you to have too much fun without me!” Kat would be all alone in this huge farmhouse for two days. Kat went to have a good look round, she had not seen a lot of the house. She had spend most of her time being restrained, gagged, hooded, humiliated and rubberized. She quickly started looking around, seeing which doors she could open. More often than not they would be locked. Kat started to wonder how much bondage equipment was hidden behind the locked doors. If she pressed her face against some of the doors she could smell the strong smell of latex. Behind one of the locked doors Kat could swear she heard a noise. She listened for the sound again, she heard nothing this time. The door itself stood out, it was made of metal and was covered in padlocks. ...

Dear readers. With my fifth book ‘A New Life’ finally published on Pink Flamingo publications (see the links) where you will also if you look, discover a few and different collection free short stories placed there for your entertainment. I thought it was once again time to place a few more short and varied stories on to the plaza, I hope that you enjoy the them. By the way and just so you know readers, feedback is always appreciated by all of the plaza’s authors, so many thanks to those that take the trouble to leave it. ...

Jason was broke and desperate for a job. Flunking college and drifting through part-time jobs had quickly bored him and he was currently spending his days drinking with friends or lounging around the house… his lacklustre start to life was not endearing him to his disappointed parents. Aged 22 and basically a bum, the threat of being kicked out by his dad lit a fire under his ass and after several months of moping around he came across an advert in his local newspaper. The fact that he even happened to be reading a newspaper at all was strange in itself, as Jason rarely picked up anything that didn’t contain pictures of naked or scantily-clad ladies. On this day however, fate led him to this advert. “Full time job on offer with excellent prospects, athletic young gentlemen required. Ring (number supplied) for more details.” Intrigued, Jason picked up his phone and decided to find out what it was about. ...

Bobbie awakens laying on a hard flat surface, feeling a bit light headed, not really to sure what is happening or why. she looks around, but the light is very dim, she sees 3 solid walls and a wall of bars, she appears be in a small cell. Her body feels tightly encased and as she slowly lifts her head and looks down she understands why, her legs are encased in latex and as she proceeds to gaze at herself, finds she is totally encased in a latex cat suit, with only her little clitty exposed, locked in a stainless steel chastity device. ...

Orignally posted 2010, this story now revised and expanded Part 1: A Search Through The Dark Side “Hello and welcome to a new episode of “In The Flesh” and this week we are in the hotspots of Paris, aaaahh the city of love. But we are here on a special reason. Rather than show you the sexy and pervy side of the city, tonight we are on a mission. We hope to take a walk along the darker side of the street. Like all you folks we have been trawling the Internet and looking for some new interesting sex sites and as you know our programme has always sought out the unusual and bizarre.” ...

continued from part one Part 2: A Fate Worse Than Death? It was mid afternoon the next day when Michelle got the call from the control room and the conversation passed very fast, in French. “Madame, we have a problem with erm, Rubberta. He… erm, she has not eaten today. We thought it was perhaps her reaction to his new… life and thought we would give her some time to adjust, but it is late in the afternoon now and he, well she, shows no signs of cooperating. She has not eaten all day, just sits there, lies there doing nothing.” Michelle stared at the screen for some time and thought on this, then said. ...

(story continues from Tough Love Part 8: Enslaved) Part 9: Retribution I opened the door to Lucy’s bedroom and entered carrying a tray with two cups of steaming, fresh coffee. I placed the tray on the dresser beside Lucy’s bed. She stirred and opened her eyes, she smiled sleepily and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She stretched her arms up and yawned, the sheet fell to her waist and I stared longingly at her perfect breasts. She made no move to cover herself as I handed her a cup from the tray. She sipped the coffee, I crossed to the window and opened the blinds, allowing bright sunlight to flood the room. A groan came from the bed and I saw Barry squinting against the light as he awoke. Lucy leant down and kissed him “good morning sleepy head,” she said. ...

My name is Jessie. I am five foot four inches tall, sandy blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. I am slightly overweight, but I have never had any complaints about that. I love bondage. The whole idea of giving up control to someone who knows how to push all the right buttons. There is no one to date who knows what they are doing. So I do for myself. My house, yes I own my home along with the bank, has a cool old stone basement. Lets just say its perfectly gloomy for a dungeon. The basement has several small rooms that were probably for cold storage of food many years ago. Now they are just empty cold rooms. The dirt floor is perfect. ...

continued from part two Chapter 3: The Prison Suit There had been many persons from my past, even a few from childhood aboard a fair-sized yacht when a fire had gotten out of control in the galley. The lifeboat looked sturdy however and we managed to launch and board her without any great panic. What i couldn’t remember was how i had ended up on this inflatable diving platform, floating alone on a dead calm sea with a tropical midday sun baking my inert body. I had completely lost the ability to move and it was terrifying. There are drugs that are capable of leaving a person in such a state, unable to even blink while still retaining normal consciousness. The heat was terrible; i so wanted to slip into the ocean for some relief. ...

continued from chapter five Chapter 6: Ying & Yang The insistent voice of the alarm roused a sleep deprived Mistress. Descending the stairs she checked her leg bag then made strong coffee, first drinking a large glass of water. It was dawn, the sun had returned. Tightening the belt on her SBR she carried with her the black rubber shoulder bag. Outside she soon felt the warmth of a perfect May day. In the distance her slave was still moving but very slowly. She felt a moment’s pang of regret then a surge of pride; to have a slave like him was beyond anything she had ever dreamed of. She loved him so. They were, she comforted herself with, the Ying and Yang; she the complete dominant, he the complete masochist. ...

It happened that I was assisting a friend in rehabbing a local rental property she had bought recently. I’m no great shakes as a workman, but I could periodically check in and send her updates on the status of the work. The house was a duplex, with flats on the first and second floors. It also had a delightfully dark and dingy old-fashioned basement, which was last on the schedule of things to be upgraded. The space had been divided into a number of small (cell-like!) rooms with concrete block walls. One, a windowless room in the center of the north wall, had been fitted with a cage like door, a welded steel framework with a grille of heavy mesh. There was a latch only on the outside, although an opening in the mesh allowed it to be opened from the inside as well. There was also a hasp for a padlock that could be accessed the same way. I had plans for this room. ...

The child was sitting, alone, digging in the sand with a spoon. She was young, maybe three years old. Asilla glanced around. There were other people in the park, but none nearby. She walked over to the girl. “Hi.” The girl looked up at her with big, brown eyes. Asilla squatted. “My name is Silla. What’s yours?” The child didn’t respond, only stared. Asilla took another look around, held up her hand before the child’s face, and made the sign. The girl began to cry. ...

The child was sitting, alone, digging in the sand with a spoon. She was young, maybe three years old. Asilla glanced around. There were other people in the park, but none nearby. She walked over to the girl. “Hi.” The girl looked up at her with big, brown eyes. Asilla squatted. “My name is Silla. What’s yours?” The child didn’t respond, only stared. Asilla took another look around, held up her hand before the child’s face, and made the sign. The girl began to cry. ...

Chapter 1: Rubber Instructions The Mistress exceptionally had been absent from her home for a few days; attending a series of lectures. What area or areas covered in the conference was not disclosed to either her trusted Housekeeper or slave. All that was known was she would be away until later in the week. She had left detailed instructions for her Housekeeper with regard to attending to her slave whilst she was away. There was to be no let up in his training regime. ...

(story continues from The Great Marvolo Part 2) Part 3 Author’s Note: Thanks to Jennifer Harrison for her assistance, and for letting me read her great-great grandmother’s diary. The next morning Max and I were up at dawn. I was allowed to wear the same baggy housemaid’s dress, and after I performed a hurried toilet we adjourned to the kitchen. He locked the chain to my collar and I fixed a meager breakfast from the food still remaining in the larder. Karl was not around, and when I asked Max where he was I got an evasive answer. When I finished the cleanup Max released me from my tether and took me into the main room. ...

Whenever I think back to that day, I wonder how it could have been done differently. We could have gone a little faster, or perhaps stuck to going through the shadows instead, using the stealth course. So many different variables, so many possible outcomes. But inevitably, I get depressed and moody, thinking about what might have been. I can’t help it, though. I have lots of time to think. My name is ID682, though I was given the nickname, ‘Kitt’ by my fellow slaves, due to my love of cats. I used to be a slave, though I guess I still am. Only now I’m less then a slave. I’m a prisoner, serving a life sentence. Perhaps a little background is in order. I was born in a country where slavery was still legal, though by most standards, slaves are treated well. We’re given plenty of time to rest and pursue some minor activities while in service, and while we’re given lots of work to do, it isn’t strenuous. We aren’t whipped, or given any other form of barbaric and inhumane punishment. At least, not most of the time. You see, there are only a few crimes that automatically earn you the strictest punishment, and the greatest of all these crimes is assaulting your master, and his (or her) family. No other crime committed by a slave is punished so harshly. It happened about ten years ago, if I remember correctly (you must understand, I’m given no calendars, or indications of what date it is during my incarceration). Some of my fellow slaves had devised an escape plan to try and break free of the manor where we lived. Escape attempts by slaves were rare, though they do happen. Because I was one of the quieter slaves, who didn’t make a fuss or bring any attention to myself, they considered me trustworthy. Truth be told, their plan was excellent. Disable the building’s security system, then sneak out in the dead of night, head for the coast, and sail away from the country, to one where we could be free. I wanted to be free, and here was my chance. So I took it and joined with them. It was the perfect plan. But things went horribly wrong. The night of our escape, our master and her family went out into the huge garden that made up the backyard of the manor, seeking to have a late night party. We should have waited and tried again, but too much had been invested. We had to try. So we disabled the security system as planned, and cut the power, then made our way into the garden, heading for the fences. Things didn’t work out as we had planned. We were spotted. We panicked, and though I ran, my fellow slaves attacked our master and her family, trying to put her down. But it was too late, and master managed to summon her security forces. We were captured, our escape foiled. And as we were put in cuffs and locked in the dungeon, we all realized that, because of what we had done, we would never know freedom. We were right. The trial began the next day. We were brought into the meeting room, where our master, her family, her slaves, and everyone who lived in the manor attended. My fellow slaves and I, chained to the floor and gagged, were given no defense, no lawyers to argue our case. Everyone knew what had happened. Our master first told everyone the facts of the crime, and that we had attempted to escape. While that itself would get a harsh punishment, the fact that we had attacked her and her family was so serious that we had earned the harshest possible punishment for ourselves. In only a few minutes, our fates were decided. My fellow escapees, the ones who had planned the attack, were clearly beyond redemption or rehabilitation, for they had planned this for a long time, and had calculated everything before hand. Had they included attacking our master in their plans? I don’t think so, and think that it was only done out of panic. But it didn’t matter now. My fellow slaves, due to their actions, were sentenced to be buried alive, entombed forever to prevent any chance of escape as long as they lived. Upon hearing their fate, my fellow slaves broke down in tears, but, gagged as they were, could not protest. My fate however, was to be different. My master noted that I was the only one who had run, rather then attack her. Thus, I was innocent of the worst crime a slave could commit. But I had still attempted to escape, and I had aided those who had attacked her. Thus, I still had committed a crime, and needed to be punished. But due to my quiet nature, and lack of a disciplinary record, she would show me mercy. Thus, my punishment was given. I was given a life sentence in the dungeons, to be restrained for the rest of my life, and never to be freed. Like my fellow slaves, I cried upon hearing my fate, my tears streaming over the thick gag plugged into my mouth. There were to be no appeals, no second chances. Our sentences were final, and could not be revoked. With a bang of the gavel, our fates were sealed. And not one to waste time, master carried out our sentences immediately. We went out back, where other slaves dug three graves. Coffins were built, and my fellow slaves were forced into rubber body gloves. Restraint belts were wrapped around their waists, and one time use handcuffs locked their wrists to the belt, as one time use cuffs were locked around their ankles, forever restraining them. Their gags were left on as they were forced into the coffins and tied down, removing their ability to move. I watched their panicked faces as the lids were put on and nailed down. Due to their gags, I was spared from hearing their screams as the coffins were lowered into the earth, then covered with dirt and soil, burying them. Simple headstones were erected, though there was no date of death on them. We would never know how long they lasted within their graves. With their punishment underway, it was now time for mine. I was marched into the mansion and into the dungeons, where I was taken to a cell that had been prepared for me. And it was there that I saw how I was to be restrained for the rest of my life, for a thick leather sleepsack was waiting for me. Knowing that it was useless to resist, and that doing so would only bring further punishment, I did not resist as I was put into the sack, my arms and legs going into the internal sleeves. The back was zipped up, and then laced shut, squeezing the sack around my body, compressing and holding it. I was taken and put onto the bunk, where leather straps were applied to me, tying me down, so I wouldn’t roll off onto the floor. And with that, master looked at me, disappointed. I had such potential, she told me, but that it was too late to undo her decision. This sentence was final. She left, and closed the cell door behind her, locking it, and leaving me in my new home. *** I don’t know how long ago that was. Time goes slowly here, in this cell, and with no clocks or calendars, I can only guess how much time has passed since my punishment began. I spend my days here in the cell, locked into this sleepsack. I have never been let out since my punishment began, and wear it twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, but then again, perhaps that isn’t the most accurate statement. I am released for cleaning and hygienic reasons, but I am never awake for those moments, for I am sedated. I sleep, and when I awake, I am still in the dungeon, still in the sack, which has been cleaned, as well as me. I am gagged twenty four hours a day as well, with a giant muzzle permanently strapped to my face, a thick gag shoved into my mouth and into my throat, which is how I am fed, with tubes and liquid nourishment given to me, as well as water. A thick collar is wrapped about my neck, embroidered with the words, ‘LIFE,’ signifying my status as a prisoner. It sounds like a horrible way to live, but while my master may be strict, she is not cruel. She allows my fellow slaves to visit me in my cell, and though I cannot talk to them, they stay with me, and are allowed to stroke and cuddle with me, giving me companionship. Occasionally, my beloved cats are brought in, and spend the day with me, and I enjoy their company, even though I cannot hold them. To keep me occupied, Master has a piece of restraint added to me every day. Some days I will be blindfolded, and on others a hood is slipped over my head. Sometimes she shackles my ankles to the bed, and sometimes she dangles me from the ceiling. Every day is different, the variety keeping me occupied, if nothing else, trying to adjust to my situation. Sometimes, on rare occasions, a television will be brought to my cell, and I am allowed to watch a film or television show. I love those moments, as well when my fellow slaves come down with a book to read to me. But even with these small favors, this is still a punishment. I am locked in here for life, and will never, ever leave. I do not have the freedom of movement my fellow slaves have, and my entire body is locked away. Aside from cuddling, I am not allowed to have any pleasures of the flesh, except that, if I continue on good behavior, I will be allowed to have one orgasm every decade or so. A very good incentive indeed. There are days where I am calm and collected, and there are days when I cry and weep over what I have lost, knowing that my entire world is a standard size prison cell. There is a small window near the ceiling, where a little sunlight comes in from the outside. I can look out it, and see the sky, and the clouds, and know that this is all I will ever see of the outside world again. Sometimes, I wonder if this is all really an act of mercy. I am alive, but it is a life of restraint, of no freedoms. I will be kept this way until the day I die, for that is my sentence, and my punishment. My fellow slaves, the ones who were buried so long ago, they are gone. Sometimes I wonder if they were the lucky ones. Their punishment was horrible, but it was brief. Mine is stretched out, on and on, for decades to come. I can’t help but wonder if I’m the unlucky one.

Part 1: The Taking It was supposed to be just a quiet, ordinary evening at home. Naturally being Taken was always a possibility ever since the law had been ratified over 30 years ago in 1977, but you never plan for it to happen. You don’t plan for it, even though it happens to at least once to 85% of all women in their lifetimes. But you just don’t talk about these things, so you never think about them either. ...

Tomaso was a young carpenter who worked in the village. Tomasoʼs mother drank. His father drank and gambled. The debts were many and continued to grow. At last the Queen sent guards to seize the familyʼs property. Tomasoʼs father suggested that the Queen could make better use of a good carpenter than a dilapidated hovel. After some discussion, it was agreed that the Queen would pay the familyʼs debts and in exchange Tomaso would be hers. Tomaso was taken to the castle where he was locked in a cell. During the day he was well guarded as he worked in the carpentry shop. At night he was returned to his cell. ...

Tristan had been writing me and serving me off and on in Second Life for a very long time. I had seen his picture and felt safe to allow him to finally serve me. We had made all the arrangements prior to his slavery and I went as far as making everything sound WORSE then it would actually be. He got off the plane looking like a lost puppy, I of course was already waiting for him at the airport only he didn’t know that. He only knew to search for a lady wearing a leather outfit from head to toe and to ask “are you Z?”. ...

Lenny’s guys had been running for months now. They started as a group of eleven heading for the boarder, now they were down to two. He had never been the main man before. He was always under his boss, the infamous Capone. Since he had been shipped off to prison in California things had gone to hell. The cops who enjoyed the hospitality of his boss now hunted Lenny and his comrades. Some how now he and the last of his guys had ended up in Arizona. “I think we lost em Lenny. Should we look for John?” Patrick was new, er 5 days after being brought in by Lenny, Capone had been convicted. “He’s on his own now, pin head shoulda kept up” He liked John or painter they had named him for his dubious work with the Tommy. But these were hard times for them. There was no stopping. No Mercy. No hope. “Well wait em out here they’ll pass us by and in the morning well head straight away for the border.” Lenny had wanted out since he was a runner back in Chicago, but experience told him once your in there’s no escape. You either left in cuffs or a coffin. Which certainly rang true it seemed now after watching the cops shoot up one and arrest two others in the last week. “You sure Lenny? They could find us!” “Shut your hole! They will if you keep yammerin on.” He couldn’t sleep. He often went days with out so much as a nap. It was his dreams, his nightmares. While awake he could distract his inner most feelings. Entertaining a friend or fleeing the law kept his mind occupied and off of the pain in his past. But in his dreams he had no control. No will power to keep out the hate distaste and lust that had plagued him. Some times it was the first man he had killed with a billy club. Others it was the girl he led astray who now wanders the red light. A tear rolled down his cheek as he started to recall the horrors, of what he had done, and what he hadn’t done, and what he will do, to escape. He tried to swallow his sadness. With each trial his stomach turned in knots, his head split at the seams. Normally he would keep himself busy. But now sitting with Pat in the darkness hiding away for fear of being caught his dam started to buckle. He couldn’t cry, not here. He stood up and walked from the cover they had hidden under. Pat was dead to any one walking by slumped over his pack like a corpse and with the heavy jacket seemed to not even breathe. He could get caught, he wouldn’t mind if only those memories would leave him. If only he could find a way to start again. He wandered into the near by town. Maybe turning himself in was the right path to redemption. Running certainly wasn’t helping. He gazed up at the local police department. He thought being so close would surely get him caught but ironically only a few bums stood outside not an officer in sight. Lenny stood there for a few moments when the flood was loosed upon his mind and his face. Dropping to his knees he sobbed. Curling into a ball in front of the steps to those who had hunted him for so long. He was giving up. The bums moved away from the terrible sounds now escaping his lips. He drifted off and for the first time in years he didn’t dream. He awoke he knew not how long later, though it was still in the night. He was spread eagle on the pavement his pockets all turned out not a thing left. He didn’t care. He tried to stand but could not. His body seemed frail and weak. “Are you alright sir?” A calm old voice came from the alley. He turned his head to see an old man. “No” he replied turning his head back to the sky. The pain was still there. And though he had let loose some of the feelings held so deep the rest had already filled his reservoir to the brink again. “Well let me take you over to my truck, well go get some soup from the station down the road.” The old man lifted him with what seemed like little effort. This astounded Lenny because of his rather large size. After a short drive they walked into a diner attached to the gas station. Before he knew it a bowl of something was set in front of him. He sighed a little as he picked up a spoon but found he wasn’t hungry. “So what seems to be the matter? You really beat your self up over something.” “I, uh. Well its complicated.” He leaned back in the booth letting his neck stretch to the max as his head looked up to the ceiling fan. “Bah! Complication is only an excuse for ignorance and guilt. So which is it? My guess is guilt since you found the police” the old man chuckled. “Funny they all left on a tip that two of Capone’s cronies were hiding in some bushes a mile or two north. Ah don’t worry what ever you did you seem to be willing to repent, which is good.” He motioned for him to wait as he got up and walked out to his truck. What was he thinking? He had drove and walked hundreds of miles to escape. He couldn’t end up in prison now. He couldn’t go back to those people. That life style. Someone would recognize him eventually and then the choice would be made for him. Why did he walk into town? Maybe it was fortune that made him leave because from the sound of it someone was privy to their hiding spot. He looked down at the soup placing the spoon in the bowl, then up to his lips. Clam chowder. He couldn’t taste it though. It was the feel of the potatoes and clam bits that gave it away. After a few bites the man returned with a small case. “All I want from you is a kind of animal. Just name one and then the rest of your life can begin.” “What?” He had no idea what that was supposed to mean but the image of his first dog popped into his head. He smiled as a reaction. Then snickered as he recalled playing with him in the park. Then a tear as he saw the car that just couldn’t stop in time. “Just name a type of animal please.” He opened the case, lid apposed to Lenny so he couldn’t see the contents. “Dog, well a bull dog… Jack…” What the fuck was wrong with him he couldn’t stop crying. Now in tears he could hardly see a thing just a blur of motion. “Here” he felt a cloth being placed in his hand which he used to dry his eyes. “and take this too. It will give you comfort in your coming hardships.” As though the man could have seen his memories there was a balloon dog with the same color and eyes as his beloved Jack. It was no Jack, seeing as it had no fur or bones but it was comforting. “Be calm don’t be rash and when things hit the bottom, there’s only one way to go. And that’s up.” “FREEZE! Put your hands up now scum bag!” An officer yelled at him while waving his gun followed by several others. He did what he was told and soon wound up in a cell with his empty pockets, half full stomach, and his balloon Jack. So many years of this life and it was going to be over. He just might be put to death with what they had on him. Though this didn’t bother him he just wanted it to be over. He held tight to his Jack as though it was his puppy from all those years ago. He blew the dam and let it all flow wanting to rid himself of the feelings, nothing else mattered much at this point, not pride or honor, dignity or vanity. The guard stood in awe at the hardened criminal and alleged murderer of several people. Lenny tried to wipe the tears fumbling with his jacket when a small fizz could be heard. He saw the hole crafted into the body of Jack by the button of his jacket. “No… Not again… please..?” he pleaded weakly as it deflated to a mash of rubber. The tears now rushed from his eyes unopposed as he held the broken body of his new Jack in his hands just as he had the first. He moaned deep as the memory returned. Then Lenny curled onto the ground in pain both mental and physical as his face smashed into the cement floor. The guard continued his blank stare as the man now moaned and sobbed on the floor of his cell. The skin on his hands seemed to grow dark. And though he had been clean shaven when he came in his face was covered in light brown stubble. The guard didn’t know what else to do so he continued staring at the oddity. He had stood six foot three and weighed an easy two hundred fifty pounds but now he seemed so small lying on the floor. So weak and helpless. So alone and harmless. The clothes seemed loose on him like he was deflating just as his balloon had. The guard turned surprised by the hand on his shoulder. The old man who had tipped them off was standing there. “He will be fine, but his clothes will prove to be too difficult to remove unless you do it now.” The guard rushed to the door and opened is then entered. Only when he was kneeling beside the prisoner did he realize what he had just done. “Seems you failed to capture him and instead snared my dog officer.” The old man chuckled. The guard looked wide eyed at the man then back to the prisoner who’s nose was now black and his upper lip was split. Hurriedly he removed the victims clothing not wanting to invoke the wrath of what ever demon stood behind him. What was happening to him Lenny thought his moaning and sobbing had become more of a whine and his clothes were being torn from him. He couldn’t see through the tears still welled in his eyes but it seemed as though it was a person doing this to him. Hey! He tried to say but only a loud Bark rang through the cell. He looked over his naked chest his hair had shrank and became finer and lighter. He tried to grab the person pulling on his pants but his hands were clumsy. He gazed in horror as his thumbs moved up his wrist shrinking as they went finally turning into a single small claw. He twisted and turned trying to free himself. He could see the guard now was the one who assailed him. What were they doing to him! Some government experiment? Then he saw the old man from the diner standing outside the cell smiling, he froze. ‘and then the rest of your life can begin’ he remembered hearing the old man saying. He understood now, this gift the old man was giving him. He looked back over his back now covered in light brown fur as he saw his new tail poke out of his rear growing rapidly and starting to sway. The guard stood over him now holding his pants in the air. He was as shocked as Lenny. “Jack! Comere boy!” The old man said. “Lets go home!” He wiggled himself onto all fours and hurried out of the cell to his new boss. This one seemed like he would take better care of him then the last one. Finally Jack made his escape, from his boss, the law, his past, the sadness and the guilt. “For your trouble officer.” Jack’s new master tossed a small wood carving of what looked like a lion or a tiger at the still shocked guard. Then turned and walked out. Lenny happily followed him to his new life. ...

It was a beautiful spring day; the type only seen once a year. The sun was shining it’s warmth onto the earth, and the sky was a bright, cheerful blue, with clouds slowly going through the sky, casting gentle shades upon the trees. It was a beautiful day to be buried alive. *** On the outskirts of a local city, there was a prison, dark and dreary in comparison to the beauty of nature. Dull grey concrete composed its foundation, housing within thousands who had been locked away from society, almost all of them political prisoners, who’s only crime had been to disagree with the government. ...

story continued from Ken’s Birthday Gift & Surprise Gift Box Several years ago I got talked into a kind of modeling job for one of the owners of the company I work for. I had never even met the man, but his nephew was present at my one and only gangbang, as I was briefly dressed as Ken’s favorite Barbie doll. I was given to Ken as a birthday present by my boyfriend to cheer him up, (see Ken’s Birthday Gift). Apparently Don, the company owner, was so impressed with his nephews recount of his experience, that he had to have a Barbie of his own. Don, the company owner had contacted Ken, because he was the only one besides my now husband who knew that I was the Barbie persona at his birthday party. It’s a complicated story how Ken became the man who was my primary lover, and a very good one, and how my husband became like our pet dog when we played. We don’t feel guilty because hubby likes being our dog, and we only feed him the best dog food. Ken even built him a three foot high dog run around the old dog house at Ken’s cabin. Ken built the dog run so that we could lock our pet dog outside with food and water if we wanted to go out for awhile. Don was insistent and Ken suggested that he tell Don that I was an expensive present, and that he would make up some crazy price for the weekend. Ken was certain Don would choke at some price, and that would spare him from telling the intimidating man no. In all fairness to Ken, I thought it was the best plan at the time also! ...

story continued from Ken’s Birthday Gift & Surprise Gift Box Part One Several years ago I got talked into a kind of modeling job for one of the owners of the company I work for. I had never even met the man, but his nephew was present at my one and only gangbang, as I was briefly dressed as Ken’s favorite Barbie doll. I was given to Ken as a birthday present by my boyfriend to cheer him up, (see Ken’s Birthday Gift). Apparently Don, the company owner, was so impressed with his nephews recount of his experience, that he had to have a Barbie of his own. Don, the company owner had contacted Ken, because he was the only one besides my now husband who knew that I was the Barbie persona at his birthday party. It’s a complicated story how Ken became the man who was my primary lover, and a very good one, and how my husband became like our pet dog when we played. We don’t feel guilty because hubby likes being our dog, and we only feed him the best dog food. Ken even built him a three foot high dog run around the old dog house at Ken’s cabin. Ken built the dog run so that we could lock our pet dog outside with food and water if we wanted to go out for awhile. Don was insistent and Ken suggested that he tell Don that I was an expensive present, and that he would make up some crazy price for the weekend. Ken was certain Don would choke at some price, and that would spare him from telling the intimidating man no. In all fairness to Ken, I thought it was the best plan at the time also! ...

continued from part 1 What a Day: Part 2 The time I had spent so far in this cell was not as hard as the time I spent within my mind’s eye wondering about what was going to happen next. I cannot explain the difficulty in silence when one has so much to say and cannot speak. To share that the level of restraint I was experiencing was not beyond anything I could have actually asked for and the circumstances that brought together this situation is the most disturbing part of this. The time that Shannon had waited for an opportunity to get even with her sister Janice was astonishing. I was clearly the pawn in a larger issue. ...

Nikki worked frantically at the combination lock, turning the dial and trying it, then turning it again, trying again, and repeating the process over and over again. Frustrated, and distracted she grunted through the gag filling her mouth in frustration as she heard the whir behind her and looked in distress as the keys she desperately needed for release were pulled under the bars of the cell that contained her and well out of her reach pulled by a string. She was well and truly stuck and, as she had planned, completely at the mercy of complete strangers. It would not be long now and she knew it. She would pay for being so stupid. ...

WARNING: Adult only story. Mines, caves, tunnels etc, are potential killers. Do Not enter without serious consideration, preparation, equipment and experience. Act safely and sensibly at all times, stupidity costs lives. Self bondage is fun, and has been fun since before I care to remember, but eventually, no matter how tight the bondage, no matter how strenuous the situation. There comes a point in every fantasists dreams that it is just not enough! The danger is not as pointed as it once was, the need is more desirous of risk, and by risk I mean being hurt or caught or humiliated publicly, and the need to feel the fear of all of these possibilities burns in your mind. I had arrived at just this point in my bondage life, and on the day that I discovered a disused mine shafts air vent. (continued from part 2) ...

“Eighteen!” You wait impatiently for the family servant to enter. Once he does, you notice that from his body language, he isn’t in a very good mood. Beneath the PVC bodysuit, his shoulders are slumped over, as his head. But with it encased inside a steel helmet, you can’t actually see his face and know what he looks like. But you, quite frankly, don’t care. You have other things to worry about. “Is my appointment for dinner set yet?” Eighteen Twenty Five (your family calls him eighteen for short), shakes his head. “You idiot!” You yell. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to reserve seats this late? Cheryl and I are never going to get there in time!” Furious, you stomp to your feet, walk over, and slam a steel paddle across his buttocks. He flinches, probably yelling, but that permanently installed gag silences him. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, you yank his arms behind his back and cuff them in place, making sure the cuffs dig into his wrists ever so slightly. He’ll have all day to think about his impotence. “Get out of my sight.” Eighteen submissively leaves. You wonder just what the hell is wrong with him. You were looking forward to that dinner with your best friend tonight, but it appears that things are going to have to be rescheduled. Growling, you gather your car keys and lipstick. Even if Eighteen is feeling down, he doesn’t have any right to sulk. His masters expect him to carry out their every wish, no matter how he feels. Besides, whatever he did before becoming a domestic servant for life was no doubt awful. He earned this job, and he has no right to complain. Your cell phone rings. You hope its Cheryl, but groan when you see your father’s number on the display screen. “What is it daddy? I’m very busy right now.” “Samantha, where are you?!” “At home, but I’m about to go get my nails done.” “No you’re not! You need to be over here right now! The hearing is going to begin in an hour!” Confused, you glance at the calendar. Oh yes, the sentencing part of your trial is set for today. In between scheduling perm appointments, shopping sprees, and girl’s night outs, you had forgotten. But seeing it now, you groan again. No doubt that high strung judge is going to give you community service. The thought of walking around on the side of highways, getting your nails dirty is enough to give you shudders. “Can’t you pull some strings daddy? I have a lot to do today.” “Samantha McClintock!” Your father’s voice is enraged, and it’s enough to make you stop. You’ve never heard him this angry. “I’ve already pulled enough favors to make the courts as lenient as I can, and this is how you thank me? Your trial is going to end today, and you have to be here! Or God help me, I will not bail you out again! Is that understood?!” You’re strongly tempted to just blow it off, but if daddy is this angry now, how much more angry would he be if you were late? Sighing, you roll your eyes. “All right daddy. I’ll be right over.” “You’d better be.” You hang up before he can unleash another lecture about responsibility and consequences. You’re in no mood to hear any more of those. You get dressed, pulling on your fanciest, most expensive clothes, dressing up. If you’re going to be stuck in some dinky courtroom for the next few hours, you might as well make a fashion statement. No doubt bright colors and heavy makeup would go against the dress code, but you don’t care. After all, you have daddy on hand to bail you out if things get really bad. Putting on a fur coat, you call out, “Eighteen!” Eighteen walked into the room. He’s still slumped over, but there’s a hesitation in his movements. No doubt he’s afraid of whatever you’re going to be demanding of him. “I have an appointment at the courthouse,” You walk over, unlock his chains. “Drive me there.” *** The drive itself takes longer then expected, due to heavy traffic. You look at all the other cars, see that half of them are being driven by other domestic servants, all dressed in many different ways, but all wear the same helmets that completely enclose their heads, making it impossible to see who they are. You wonder if perhaps they’re driving slowly on purpose, just to irritate their masters. “Eighteen, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Eighteen nods, tries to drive faster. But he can’t do much with the traffic as thick as it is. Glancing at your expensive wrist watch, you’re annoyed to see that you have just twenty minutes to get there, and the court is at least half an hour away. “Eighteen, I don’t care what you have to do, get us through this traffic! I don’t care if you have to drive over other people’s cars, just do it!” Eighteen hesitates. No doubt he’s fearful of what could happen if he speeds up and get caught, but you’re not in the mood to care. You have an appointment to get to, and by god, you’re going to make it. You unbuckle your seat belt and scramble to the front of the limo. “Out of the seat eighteen! You’re too slow to drive!” You barely give him enough time to unbuckle his seat belt before you shove him aside, grab the wheel, and gun the engine. The limo takes off, slamming into cars and shoving them aside. Almost immediately, horns blare, but you ignore them. More important matters are at stake! “Idiot!” You yell to one car that refuses to get out of the way. In defiance, you hit him in the trunk, finally getting enough room to squeeze past. Reaching the off ramp, you cut off a few slower drivers and press onwards, ignoring the horns and the yelled obscenities. They’re all beneath you anyway. It takes some more frantic driving, as well as a few ignored red lights, but you finally reach the court, park, and get out, straightening your coat and hat. You can’t afford to look unfashionable or dirty. That would be just wrong. “Stay here,” You tell Eighteen, locking the car. You walk to the building and head inside, ignoring the stares of the building’s occupants. All that matters right now is that damn court and getting this over with. You pull out your PDA and look at the calendar, hoping that whatever community service you’re given doesn’t interfere with all your parties and important events. You finally reach the courtroom and walk in. The judge is there, along with your parents, and a few guards. They all look unhappy to see you. Glancing at the clock, you see why. Despite your frantic driving, you’re still ten minutes late. “Sorry,” you say in your most chipper voice. “Sorry everyone. Traffic was so bad, I like, thought I would never get here!” Your father is almost red, seeing what you’re dressed in. But he can shove it for all you care. After all, he raised his voice against you! “Samantha McClintock, please step forward,” the judge says. She doesn’t sound happy. You walk out and stand before the judge, wondering how long this is going to take. “Can we hurry this up?” You ask. “I’ve got a hair appointment in an hour.” The judge glares at you. “Young lady, do you even realize the magnitude of why you’re here? You’re on your third strike.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, can you go ahead and give me my community service? I’d rather not be here.” The judge pulls out a stack of papers. You groan. No doubt she’s going to try and intimidate you by reading how grave the implications of this are. “Samantha McClintock, twenty five years old, daughter of famed billionaire Jon McClintock, and already you have a long history of run ins with the law. Numerous citations of disorderly conduct, appearances in public while drunk, resisting arrest, being rude to law enforcement officials, and numerous speeding tickets.” You roll your eyes. So what if you’ve gotten into some trouble? It’s all in the name of having a good time, after all. “It appears to me that you have no respect for authority, or the law. And…Mrs. McClintock, will you please pay attention!” You glance up from your little mirror, putting away the lipstick. “Yeah, what?” “Young lady, I can have you arrested in contempt of court. Now pay attention, or I’ll put you in jail for a month, is that clear?” You roll your eyes, making sure she can see you do it. “Fine.” The judge glares at you. “It’s clear to me that, by all appearances, you’re a spoiled little brat who deserves what’s coming to her. Now, with the three strikes law in effect, I could have you put away for twenty five years to life.” “For some traffic tickets?! Come on lady!” “I am referring to your drunk driving records. You’ve injured many people, and so far your father’s lawyers have managed to keep you out of jail.” You smile. “But not this time. Now, this is your last chance, because if you get another felony or another strike, you’re going to prison for a very long time. For this period, I will give you five hundred hours of community service, to be spent picking up trash along freeways and highways. This case is…” She’s about to bring the gavel down when an officer runs in the court. “Yes?” The officer glares at you. “We’ve gotten reports that that woman’s limo sped through traffic and caused some serious injuries. And we have the video camera footage to prove it.” The judge glares at you. “Hey, like, I had to get here, otherwise I was going to be late,” you say. “So I had to speed up a bit.” The judge shakes her head. “I pity you Samantha. I think your father’s money has gone to your head. You think you can do whatever you want and get away with it. But not this time. You’ve proven that you just don’t care about society’s laws or rules. And if you will not abide by our rules, then society will kick you out. Because of the three strikes law, I hereby sentence you to life in prison with no possibility of parole.” She bangs the gavel. “This court is adjured.” Your knees buckle, and your heart stops for a few moments. Life in prison? Maybe you didn’t hear her right. Maybe your ears are clogged with wax, because there’s no way she could have just sentenced you to spend the rest of your life behind bars. The sight of the guards coming towards you, ready for a fight, only confirms that this is really happening. “Get your hands off me!” You scream, trying to knock them away. “Get off me!” But they easily overpower you, and drag you away from the podium, and towards a small door near the back, the one that guards drag defendants through when they’re heading for prison. Your parents are sobbing, both stunned at what’s just happened. You yell out at them for help, begging them to come and get you out of here. But it seems that, for once, your daddy’s deep pockets can’t help you. Then they’re gone, as you’re shoved through the door. The other side is a world you’ve never known. It’s cold and bare, with white walls and no decorations, with only the flimsiest, most bare furnishings. You can hear weeping and sobbing from behind some the doors in this hallway, but you’re too startled to really pay attention. The shock is insulating you from the reality of what’s happening, but even then, you can barely operate, and the guards have to practically drag you around. You’re taken to a side room, which one of the guards unlocks. It’s bare inside, save for a few benches and a few O rings bolted to the floor. The door is locked behind you all. “Strip down,” one of the guards says. “Excuse me? No way in hell!” You spit. “Strip down, or we will force you to.” “You can’t do anything!” You yell. “My daddy will get you all! I know my rights!” “Missy, you don’t have any rights now. And your father can’t help you. Now strip.” You spit at the guards. “Fuck you!” They come at you, start yanking your clothes off. You struggle, scream, try to bite them, even moreso when they yank off all your fancy clothes, toss your purse across the room, careless of the expensive phone and perfume inside. The beautiful shirt and dress you’ve been so proud of, is casually torn off like tissue paper, leaving you naked. “Damn you!” You scream. They take a dark blue jumpsuit and force you into it, zipping it shut. “Now we can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” the chief guard says. “It’s your choice honey. We can use handcuffs, but if you resist, we’ll have to use tighter restraints. Even though the four of them are holding you down, you don’t give a damn about what they’re saying. You want to bite them. One of the guards leans too close, and you do exactly that. “All right, get the jacket and a muzzle,” the chief guard says. “We’ve got a biter.” A straightjacket, thick and white, is brought in. Upon seeing it, you go utterly ballistic. The cold, hard reality of your helplessness hammers home as it’s forced around your body, your arms going into the closed sleeves. Your upper body is forced up, and then your arms are grabbed and forced into a loop on your chest, then buckled down tightly behind you. You frantically struggle, thrashing your arms even as the straps are tightened down, and the crotch straps threaded through your groin. “No, no, no no!” You scream. It’s the last words you give before a muzzle is produced with a built in gag. It’s forced into your mouth, going over your tongue and to the very back of your throat. As it’s tightened around the back of your head, you try to scream, but the muzzle and gag work together to plug your mouth. Leg cuffs are latched around your ankles, so as to stop your struggles. You’re lifted to your feet and forced out of the cell, the remains of your former life lying in tatters on the floor. You struggle against the jacket, fighting it, but it mercilessly holds you, containing your body effortlessly. You can barely walk as it is. When you reach the end of the hallway, the double doors are opened, and a large prison van is waiting, other restrained prisoners being put on board. “No!” You try to scream. “No, this isn’t fair! This isn’t fair!” Nobody can hear you. And they wouldn’t care if they could. You’re marched up to the bus, then put onboard, forced into a seat, and chains shackle you to the floor of the bus. The bus drives away from the court, taking you away. *** The ride to prison is the most terrifying ride you’ve ever taken. You’re trapped in your seat, unable to move, unable to have any say in what’s happening. You can’t even talk. You no longer struggle against the hold of the jacket and the cuffs. You’re too emotionally drained to do so. The scenery outside the windows change from the towers of the city, to the houses of the suburbs, and then the hills and flat plains of the desert. The heat inside the bus begins to rise, and your thick jacket doesn’t make things any easier. You want to ask for water, for anything to quench your rising thirst, but you can only mumble with the thick gag. The bus turns a corner, and you see your new home…a giant, concrete prison that stands in the center of the desert. It looks like hell on earth. You sweat, shaking as the bus passes through the multiple gates, before being swallowed up into the complex. As the bus comes to a stop, guards file into the bus, unlatching your fellow prisoners from the seats and escorting them off. You’re the last one. When they unlatch the chains holding you to the floor, you try to kick them. While emotionally drained, you’re still angry enough to fight, no matter how useless it is. The guards don’t take kindly to that. You can’t hit them, considering that your ankles are shackled together, and to punish you, they handle you roughly as you’re forced off the bus. Entering through several checkpoints, you hear distant shouts and yells. The air reeks of despair and helplessness. Ahead of you, the other prisoners are being sent through X-rays, strip searched, and then being issued prison uniforms. The thought of being stripped naked and having a complete stranger grope your most private parts makes you shudder with disgust. But after you pass through the X-ray, the guards direct you away from the others and through a side door. Despite your fear, your pounding heart slows. You’re curious about what’s happening. You’re taken into what looks like an operating room. And before you can try to figure out what’s going on, your gag and muzzle is removed, only to be immediately replaced with a clear mask held over your mouth and nose. “What are you doing you bastards?!” You yell. “Watch it, she’s a bitter,” A guard says. “Turn up the gas.” “Let me go! Let me…go…le…” Your protests are silenced as a sudden, unstoppable fatigue slips over you. Legs buckling, you helplessly fall to the floor, unable to stand. You hit hard, unable to use your arms to stop your fall. It hurts, but the pain quickly vanishes as you’re overcome with darkness and silence. *** When you wake, things are different. Blinking, you look around. You’re in a cell. Your jumpsuit is gone, as is your straitjacket. For that alone, you’re relieved. In their place are cuffs around your ankles, a belt around your waist, with your cuffed hands locked to them. Thankfully, you’re not naked, nor are there any signs that you’ve been taken advantage of. You’re wearing a skin tight body suit, but the fabric is unfamiliar to you. It’s like spandex, only heavier, yet tighter. You try to stand. With your arms restrained, it’s difficult. As you try to rise, a pounding headache slams into you. There’s a mirror on one side of the wall. Glancing at it, you see a bandage on your head, which no longer has any hair. “My hair!” You shriek. You beautiful, beautiful hair, which you’ve spent hours keeping clean and pretty (thanks to hundreds of dollars from daddy’s pocket), is now gone. “You bastards! What did you do to my hair!” “Shut up lady!” An unseen voice says. “No! I won’t! Why did you take my hair?!” A bored guard comes up to the door of your cell. “Because you’re not supposed to have any. Now shut up, or I’ll have you gagged and jacketed again, only the jacket’s twice as tight as before.” “You can’t do that!” He smiles. “Lady, you got no rights no more. I can do anything I want to you, and nobody’s going to care. I could put you in solitary, blindfolded, for ten years, and nobody would question it. You want that?” You go silent. “Didn’t think so. Now shut your pot hole, and stay quiet.” He walks away, leaving you in your cell. The next several hours go by torturously slow. With no clock to tell you the time, and no windows to hint where the sun is, you’re stuck in the room with nothing to do, and with no idea on how you can possibly adapt to this. Lying on your bunk, you try to think back to what you know about prison. Given your privileged upbringing, it’s not much. You know that since the crime waves the mid century, the system in place is harsher on those who commit crimes. Parole is virtually unheard of. Prisoners spend almost all of their time in restraints while behind bars. A few end up as indentured servants for life, like eighteen at home. Looking down at your shackles, you’re terrified at the idea of wearing them for the rest of your life. But then again, is that really going to happen? Your daddy is surely doing everything he can to get you out. His billions will get you out of here, and you can go home, and forget about this horrible place. But what if that doesn’t work? The thought is only brief, but horrifying. If daddy can’t get you out of here, then you really will be stuck here…for life. Life…to stay here for the rest of your life until you die. The thought terrifies you. *** Time passes slowly. You sleep a few times, but for the most part, you have no idea how long you stay in the cell. It could be several hours, or several days. Others are brought in, getting their own cells across the hall from you, and like you, they’re dressed in the bodysuits, and chained up in a similar fashion. It appears that for whatever reason, whoever is in charge is waiting until there are a sufficient number of you before moving on. Finally, after one last individual is brought in, guards enter the hall, three to each door. You watch as the cell door slides open, but you don’t try to fight. The restraints alone that make impossible, but you can’t fight your way past three guards. So, biting your lip you let them grab your shoulders and march you out of the cell. You’re marched down the hall and out, into what appears to be a classroom…only this room has desks that are bolted to the floor, and there are no decorations, only harsh lights hanging from the ceiling. You’re taken to a desk, where several belts are strapped across your body, lashing you to the chair. You bite your lip as the belts are tightened, vowing that no matter what it takes, you’ll make these guards pay for this indignity. When you’re lashed down, as are your fellow inmates, the guards go the side of the room and wait. The door opens a short time later, and a man walks in. He’s dressed in a fancy uniform, and regards all of you. You can’t help but notice that he’s carrying a briefcase at his side. “I am the warden of this facility,” he says. “And I’m here to tell you that you are all no longer people. You are criminals, the scum and trash of society.” He puts the briefcase on the desk. “You are all here because of your criminal actions, and all of you have been given life sentences. But because our prison system is ever evolving, and ever adapting to protect the citizens of this country from the filth in the streets, you are all the latest volunteers for an experiment.” “You might as well not even bother,” you say. The warden looks at you. “And why is that?” “Because whatever it is, my father’s going to find out about it, and he’ll take care of you.” The threat however, doesn’t intimidate the warden. To your amazement, he actually smiles. “A little daddy’s girl, aren’t we? Missy, your father can’t help you anymore. You’re never going to see him again. You’re here for life, and there is no escaping it. So just accept it.” “Accept it? Accept it?! I’m only twenty five! I can’t be here for life! That’s unfair!” “Society putting up with you for as long as it did is unfair.” “You bastard! I won’t…” “You won’t do a thing, except comply with our orders. Do so, and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so, and you will be punished.” He opens the briefcase. “When you were all brought here, you were put under using anesthesia. The next thing you knew, you woke up in your cells. During that time you were asleep, our surgical team here did a minor operation on your brain, and implanted a small stimulator deep inside it.” He holds up a remote control. “Normally, each device is controlled separately, but they can also be linked together, so that one remote can control several at once. These implants control both the pleasure…” He presses a button, and you suddenly feel euphoric. Pleasure flows through you, overtaking every essence of your being, making you moan involuntarily, shaking and shuddering against your restraints, your body going out of control. Then, a second later, it stops. You go still, immediately disappointed, wanting the pleasure to come back. “And the pain receptors of your brain.” The man presses another button on the remote, and a second later your body suddenly goes taut with pain. Your nerves scream as fire seems to sear them, and it feels like knives begin jabbing you. You scream, thrashing in your restraints, your voice joining the howls of the others as they writhe in agony. A moment later, and it stops. Panting, wheezing, you look up at the warden, and the remote he’s holding. “We have learned that no matter how hard we try, we cannot create a system that rehabilitates all people. But we did discover that we can modify an individual via pleasure and pain, the two most basic senses of the human mind. The concept is very simple. You do as you are told, and you will be rewarded.” He presses a green button, and the wonderful feeling of euphoria comes back. But it only lasts for a moment, before the high wears off, and you’re left in your chair, feeling horribly neutral. “Disobey, and you will be punished.” He touches the red button ever so slightly, and a jolt of pain goes through you. But it’s over before you can even flinch. “This system works on everyone, no matter their deposition, personality, or individual willpower. Drug dealers, murderers, child rapists, all are helpless before the powers of bliss and despair. They can fight, and hold off as long as they can, but it is inevitable that they eventually become putty that we can shape as we please.” He looks at all of you. “While you all will serve out your life sentences here, you will do so as part of this program, for we want to see exactly how far we can go with it. Just how much can we do when reprogramming someone? We will find out with all of you. Some of you will be programmed to act like dogs. Others will be trained to enjoy being used as a punching bag. Others…” He looks right at you. “Will be programmed to accept staying locked up and isolated with no human contact, where even the slightest whimper will bring pain.” “Bullshit!” You cry out. “That’s bullshit! This is evil! You’re evil!” “My, my, you’re a feisty one. But all animals can be tamed, even the brats and brutes of the world.” “I’m not an animal! I’m not!” “Your behavior suggests otherwise.” “Damn you! Damn…” He holds up the controller and presses the red button. Pain surges through you. You scream and thrash, trying to escape it, but there is no escape. The burning hot pain claws and rips into every inch of your body. It lasts for thirty agonizing seconds. When it finally subsides, you collapse into the restraints, unable to hold yourself up. You can’t even look up as the man looks to the other inmates. “A prime example of what you will all go through. You will all know pain and pleasure as we program you. Obey the rules, follow orders, and you will know pleasure. Those who resist, and who break the rules…Well, you’re only just hurting yourself.” You can barely look up at him as the man puts the remote back in the briefcase. “Prepare them.” *** No sooner does the warden leave then you start to fight, struggling as the guards undo the belts holding you down. With the cuffs, you can’t do anything, but you still struggle, refusing to accept your fate. The idea of what they’re going to do with you is too terrifying, too horrible to think. Reprogramming? They’re going to warp your mind, turn you into a zombie. You wail as they drag you out of the room. You’re taken, along with all the others, to what looks like a large surgical room with dozens of tables. Upon each table is a black leather sleep sack with many belts, straps, and buckles. You realize what’s going to happen, but there’s nothing you can do about it. The guards take you to one of the tables and pick you up, forcing you down onto it, and holding you there as they take the sleep sack and unfold it. The inside has internal sleeves for your arms and legs, meaning that once you’re in it, and it’s closed, you’ll be completely helpless and at their mercy. “No!” You scream as your ankles are released from the cuffs, and then forced into the sack. “No, no, no!” With your legs in place, the guards go for your wrists. They’re unlocked from the cuffs, and the belt taken off your waist. Before you can punch them, or rake their faces, they grab hold of your arms. Even with adrenaline flowing through you, you can’t resist them as they force your arms down, and slid them into the sleeves of the sack. You can only watch as they pull the zipper down the length of the sack, closing it, and tightening it around your body. When it’s put in place at your throat, the guards then take the straps sewn into the sack and buckle them together, cinching them down, and tightening the sack even further, compressing it around you. “No! Let me out!” You struggle and squirm, but the sack holds you tightly, refusing to give. “Let me go!” Your yells are met by the guards smug grins, and the weeping and sobbing of your fellow lifers. You look down at yourself and continue to struggle, unable to believe that this is happening, that your body is locked inside this sleep sack, and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing you can do to get out. You’re so focused on the sack that you don’t see the guards pulling out a thick muzzle, and a matching hood. “Wait.” You turn at hearing the voice. It’s the warden, and he walks up to you. His eyes drift over your tightly restrained form, admiring your helplessness, the fact that he can do whatever he wants, and you’re helpless to stop him. “I’d like to talk this one before you do that.” Only then do you look up and see the hood and muzzle, your heart skipping a beat. How much worse can this possibly get? “You know, eventually, after we train you all to do what we want, you’ll eventually be shipped off to brothels,” the warden says. “A far better way to serve society as part of your punishment. Now, you’ll be going there as well, but first, you’re going to do something for me.” “Screw you!” You shout. The main raises the remote, and your anger is tempered by fear. “You’re learning quickly,” he says. “Now, I can’t stand rich, spoiled brats like you. You don’t care about anyone but yourself, and I think that earns you some extra punishment on top of your sentence. But then again, I’m something of a gambling man. I like wagers, so I’d like to offer you one.” You glare at him. “I’ll make you a deal. I have a cell phone with me that I can use to call your father. If you can convince him to pull some strings, then you’ll go to the brothel for the rest of your life, like all the rest.” “Why the hell would I want to do that?” “Because if he doesn’t help you, I transfer you to the private cell block, where special inmates are kept. You’ll be trained to be my little love toy, programmed to accept whatever I put into you without hesitation…as well as being kept in isolation for weeks, if not months, or even years at a time, with virtually no human contact.” He smiles as he rubs the remote. “Such a delicious idea, no? Of course, you’d be sent to the brothels eventually, after I program you to be totally docile and obedient.” He takes out the phone. “Now, what’s your daddy’s number?” It’s an impossible choice. The consequences of what happens if your father refuses to help are too severe to contemplate. That, and knowing that if you refuse, the warden can just take you to the private block anyway means you’re in a loose - loose situation. There really is no choice. You tell him the number. And as he dials, you try to keep up a brave face, but inside, you’re squirming. After all, Daddy loves you. He’ll get you out of this. He’s always stepped in to get you out of a tight spot. There’s no reason to believe he won’t do the same here. With the numbers dialed, the warden holds the phone up to your ear. As it rings, you look over, see your fellow lifers getting the hoods and muzzled strapped on, then carried away to god knows where. Your stomach turns. The phone clicks as it’s picked up. “Hello?” Hope surges through you. “Daddy! It’s me!” There’s no reply. “Daddy? It’s me!” This time there’s a reply, but it’s slow and cautious. “Samantha?” “Daddy, I need your help! These people, they’re doing terrible things to me! You have to get me out of here!” Your daddy waits for several seconds before replying. “Samantha, I’m not helping you.” It’s a moment before you can speak. “What?” “Samantha, you’ve always counted on me to bail you out. But I won’t. Not this time.” “Daddy…” “I won’t bail you out. Do you really think you can get away with this?” “But you have money! You can make it work!” “Money can’t buy anything. I wish it brought me a daughter who wasn’t a spoiled brat.” Your mouth goes dry as you stare at the phone, suddenly unable to speak. “I’m done with you Samantha. I’m so sick and tired of you relying on me for everything. I’m done. Accept your punishment and be a woman, not a crybaby.” He pauses. “I love you Samantha, but I won’t help you. Goodbye.” The line goes dead. You stare at the phone for the longest time, before the warden pulls it away. “Too bad,” he says. “Looks like I win the bet.” He leans in closely. “Your daddy has abandoned you. He’s gone. He’s never coming back. And you’re now alone, in a world that doesn’t care about you.” The guards move towards you with the hood and the muzzle. “Your old life is gone. The rich, spoiled brat is no more. Now you’re nothing.” He presses a finger onto your sack. “You’re mine.” Turning, the warden walks away. “Take her to the private block when you’re done,” he tells the guards. “I’m going to start training her tonight.” You can only stare numbly at the ceiling. You don’t resist as the guards take the muzzle and force it into your mouth, then buckle it behind your head, silencing you. This is the rest of your life. In this sack, in a cell, in a brothel. No more parties. No more fine food and restaurants. No more clothes shopping, no nail polish or fancy fell phones. The only thing you have to look forward to now is constant confinement and restraint, bare cells and bars, and the knowledge that you will never, ever be released. This is a life sentence. As the hood is brought over your head, you sob. Then the hood is on, and is locked in place. And everything is dark. ...

As soon as I walked into the restaurant, I was glad I had made an effort. Part of me had said that it wasn’t a date, I was just meeting another woman, so there was no need to take too much trouble over my appearance. But when I saw how stunning she was, I was glad I wouldn’t be sitting there feeling like a plain Jane the whole evening. Somehow she knew me as soon as I walked in and beckoned me over. She had chosen a quiet table in the corner, away from the others. ...

This story would not have been possible without the inspiration I received after reading “An Unexpected Discovery” Submitted by: Anne. 03/28/10 on the Altairboy webside. It would be helpful if you read that part first. Finally, I would like to thank that author for a truly creative story line. Natasha drove us to my third floor walk-up apartment where I picked up enough things for two or three days. Told the landlord that I would be leaving at the end of the month. ...

John really wanted to go to the ball. All the dignitaries of the city would be there and John felt he could really improve his business with the connections they had. But John was stuck. John had no ticket. He simply could not afford the two hundred and fifty pounds for a ticket. John sat there all week worrying about it all. His business was going down and he would soon be bankrupt. But it was his own fault really. He was ruthless and forced many people out of business until one day they all ganged up and ensured everybody never used his company for anything. All his savings had gone and he was having to scrounge to live. ...

It was very stormy as the boat crossed towards the Western Isles. On board Jesse Haig was looking forward to a month cycling and camping the length of the Scottish islands. A stunning young woman of twenty-two years old, almost Viking in appearance. Think of Hagar’s daughter and you’d get the idea. Thick wavy golden blonde hair, long legs and an athletic body to die for and she’d attracted her fair share of attention since she’d blossomed. Even today while booking her ticket the seller had almost drooled over her. Still a body like hers was a rare sight up here and he’d only been human after all. ...

It was very stormy as the boat crossed towards the Western Isles. On board Jesse Haig was looking forward to a month cycling and camping the length of the Scottish islands. A stunning young woman of twenty-two years old, almost Viking in appearance. Think of Hagar’s daughter and you’d get the idea. Thick wavy golden blonde hair, long legs and an athletic body to die for and she’d attracted her fair share of attention since she’d blossomed. Even today while booking her ticket the seller had almost drooled over her. Still a body like hers was a rare sight up here and he’d only been human after all. ...

Rose walked out of the white metal door with the words “Caution! Violent patient ward” marked red on them. She took several steps forward, then leaned upon the white concrete walls and looked downward on the marble floor. She felt her face blush slightly red as a soft smile slowly emerged from her bubblegum pink lips. A happy little sigh escaped her mouth as she place her nurse cap upon her dirty blond hair that cascaded down past her shoulders. Her cloud white uniform that she wore hugged around her natural curvy body and the skirt reached down to barely her thigh, covering her behind of course. Her legs were uncovered however and were exposed down to her black high heels. After checking her attire she walked off, feeling high spirited in a bad and mischievous way as she went down the hallway of the mental institution. As a working nurse in the nut house, things tend to be a bit crazy from time to time. Fortunately, Rose is able to keep her stress to a minimum and still smile at the end of the day. She then looked up at a nearby clock that was attached to the ceiling of the hallway. It showed 6:15. Yes! She gets off in about 45 minutes. Her life was feeling a bit brighter now as she kept on walking. ...

LEGAL NOTICE: This is purely a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. continued from chapter 10 Chapter 11: Caught by Taffy! Jessica quickly crouched as the florescent lights in the ceiling came to life and flooded the room with their harsh, white glare. She expected the door on the opposite side of the rectangular room to suddenly open and have security personnel pour towards her. Jessica’s heart started to race as she began to steel herself for a fight. ...

(story continues from Echoes of Barking) Part Two Heading off into the hospital Emma began to feel a bit better. Her legs were still a bit wobbly but, as she dabbed her head, she found that there was little blood. She would have a lump, but she could live with that. Peering down at her map she was able to work out where she needed to go in this sprawling ancient building. ...

Part One: Trial Period “Nil by mouth: total submission, total control; total dominance.” “I Love you, I adore you, I worship you, I serve you.” issued from the mouth of her latex occluded slave. The deflation and removal of the breathe-through inflatable gag and the direction, “Speak slave!” had elicited this response. His saliva marking the obsidian black of his latex slave helmet, he remained silent knowing that he had to carefully choose each word uttered. Any attempt to engage in conversation would be cruelly dealt with. ...

The unforgiving florescent lighting stung my eyes as I slowly came to. My head was still a bit cloudy, but I knew that I was lying on the floor. The smooth surface felt cold against my bare skin. As my brain seemed to catch up, new sensations emerged. The most prominent was my aching jaw. I tried to alleviate my discomfort, but my arms failed to respond appropriately…remaining pinned behind my back. ...

WARNING ! This story is intended for adult persons over the age of eighteen and should not be viewed by those under that age or the legal age of consent where you live. This story contains aspects of rubber fetishism and other sexual acts and practices that may be offensive to some people. This story is for ADULTS ONLY! If you don’t like seeing things such as this, Please, read no further. Unless authorized by the writer, this story is considered copyrighted and is the intellectual property thereof. Please do not post to pay sites or any place else with out the authors permission. Thanks to Lola for re-reading and improvements. ...

DO NOT READ IF UNDER THE LEGAL AGE. Thanks to Lolita for re-reading and improvements. Part 1 Steph was just fresh from her MBA. She was going for an interview for a job in a private firm called CellFuture. It was a quite secretive company contracting for the government. It provided prison services. Steph had hesitations before applying but the salary was exceptional. It was the final interview and she had done well, according to the interviewer. Her interviewer was a strict woman, called Mrs. Mayer. She was the CEO. The position was to be her assistant. ...

(Author’s note: Long time reader, first time writer. This story is complete and utter fantasy, so there’s no chance of anyone copying it in real life, ok? Enjoy! ) Chapter One: In which a Rubberman is born A door slid loudly shut and the butt plug snuggled into his ass, awakening him to a groggy consciousness. His first thought would have been about the anal intruder were it not for the fact that he was completely encased in some kind of tight body suit. Getting his bearings, he saw that not only was he lying on the floor of some kind of prison cell, but also from the dim overhead light it looked like his whole body was covered in black shiny rubber. ...

BANG When Charles died, he didn’t expect it to be so quick. A gunshot to the brain ends life very quickly, almost instantly, and that was what happened to Charles. A single 9mm pistol bullet entering his brain and tearing it to shreds, ending his life, killing him before he even hit the ground. In terms of afterlife beliefs, Charles didn’t have any. He didn’t really know what to expect upon death most likely oblivion and nothingness. It was, in a way, this openness that made his first moments after death all the more interesting. ...

continued from part nine Chapter 10: Nurse White enjoys herself. She released the steel waist belt, collar and wrist manacles and let them drop to the floor. Then from the pile of items she picked up the full arm length bondage mittens and fitted them over my hands and arms. She took her time and carefully laced them up tight and buckled all the straps, one at the top, one above and one below my elbows and one around my wrists. She had secured them much tighter than my Mistress did and I found I was now unable to bend my arms or my wrists. ...

continued from part eight Chapter 9: Punishment & Work. “Consider this to be the completion of your punishment as I didn’t think last night was very severe. Also it will make sure that any thoughts of escaping will be put right out of your mind. You know what job you have to do today so I will have to leave the house open so you can go in and out to the workshop for tools and materials. If there are any callers you will have to try and avoid them or else think up some sort of excuse to explain the way you are dressed. Oh yes there are just two more items to complete your working punishment rubber uniform.” ...

I am a transvestite who enjoys BDSM. Many years ago, I built an automatic rack for self torment. The device consisted of a 1 x 10 inch plank, nine feet long, that was supported by bookshelves along one wall of my apartment. At the foot end a piece of one by three pine was bolted to the plank longwise, set on edge. I cut notches in this piece about 1-1/2 inches deep. It looked somewhat like a sawblade parallel to the plank. ...

I am a transvestite who enjoys BDSM. Many years ago, I built an automatic rack for self torment. The device consisted of a 1 x 10 inch plank, nine feet long, that was supported by bookshelves along one wall of my apartment. At the foot end a piece of one by three pine was bolted to the plank longwise, set on edge. I cut notches in this piece about 1-1/2 inches deep. It looked somewhat like a sawblade parallel to the plank. ...

I am a transvestite who enjoys BDSM. Many years ago, I built an automatic rack for self torment. The device consisted of a 1 x 10 inch plank, nine feet long, that was supported by bookshelves along one wall of my apartment. At the foot end a piece of one by three pine was bolted to the plank longwise, set on edge. I cut notches in this piece about 1-1/2 inches deep. It looked somewhat like a sawblade parallel to the plank. ...

Part 4 Chapter 9: Getting some legal help That night Kelly and Amanda started planning how to get all of the lose ends of my life on the outside of the hospital cleaned up. Amanda called her friend Robin the lawyer and told her what she needed from her. The attorney on the other end of the phone was not sure if the phone call was a joke or not. ...

Susan stood in what was to become the master bedroom of the farmhouse, staring at a blank wall. She was a little nervous, and a little cold despite the fact that the house’s central heating was now working. She was nervous because she wasn’t quite sure why Scott had placed her here, although she hadn’t objected at all when he told her to strip so he could put her in some bondage for a while. ...

It was a dark and eerie night when Jan stumbled on the old church. Basked in moonlight from the full moon, the church showed it was in ruins. Parts of the roof had caved in and altogether, it sent a shiver through Jan’s spine. But now she had to investigate the church. Why had she never read about it before? Why was it never mentioned in the local guide books? More importantly, what happened to it? But for now, Jan was happy that she had taken her evening constitutional walk. She would come back in the morning. It was only that after a day of traveling by coach she was glad for a walk after dinner that she found the church. ...

Carol Smith looked at her husband with disdain. They had bought this wonderful big house with a large cellar. Her husband is heavily into bondage whereas she cannot see the sense in it. John had just told her he wanted to turn the cellar into a cell where she could chain him up and lock him in until she saw fit to release him. Carol wanted nothing to do with it. But for John, bondage was just a prelude to sex. A form of foreplay! It made sex that much better once he was free. He told Carol once that he would like her to tie him up and rape him. Use him at her will. But Carol would have nothing to do with it. ...

What a day this was finally going to be. I could just relax, unwind and most of all have peace and quiet with no one around to distract me from doing absolutely nothing but some small yard work, swim in the pool or just do whatever it is that I wanted. The weather was beyond perfect on this June day at a warm but pleasant 26C with a mild wind and no one home. You see after a very long week at work and with my wife’s 24 year old younger sister moving in with us for the summer, time was at a premium. ...

#7 Andreabound in the Basement – Part One Simply the best part of my new house is that it has a basement. My house is built into a hill and I have to go up a flight of stairs to gain entrance to the front door. At slightly below ground level, and at the end of a sloping driveway, is a double garage. The garage area is large enough so I can now park my car under cover for the first time and have plenty of space left over for a workshop area. A door at the back of the garage opens onto a basement area that covers the back half of my house and stretches the whole width. This is my new playroom. ...

This story was based of a series of pictures at a Yahoo group (which has, predictably, been deleted), where a woman was locked in a body cage, never to be released. As usual, any comments or critiques are always welcomed. Be warned that this is a grim story, with a not-too-happy ending. “Will you forgive me, my Pharaoh?” “Why should I?” The supreme ruler of all Egypt glared at his queen. “You have betrayed me, violated our sacred vows, and you have destroyed my trust. Why should I forgive you?” ...

This is not a happy, fun bondage story. If you don’t like grim stuff, then you probably won’t enjoy this story. A special thank you must go to the members of the Gromets plaza forum, whose input and suggestions helped shape this story into its final form “Goodnight!” Twenty three-year-old Rebecca watched as the two old people walked out of the restaurant into the cold night. She let out a sigh of satisfaction. Two more happy customers. She put herself to work, clearing off the table that was covered in dishes and dirty utensils. ...

WARNING Do NOT try this at home, the story is presented here as a fantasy only, to attempt this in real life may result in injury or death. Linda’s Revenge by Subgamble F/mf; kidnap; captives; cell; dungeon; torture; electro; bdsm; crop; stock; prepare; depilation; wrap; encase; entombed; revenge; cons/nc; XXX Authors note: This is not for the squeamish it involves permanent entombment. Linda is a 36 year old tall statuesque woman. She has natural blond hair and blue eyes. She stands a little for 6 feet tall. Her figure is a perfect 36-24-32. She is very athletic and is very strong for a woman. In fact she is stronger than a great many men. She has long legs with calf muscles that men love to eye. For the past 8 years Linda has been married to Ted. Ted is 40 and a computer programming engineer. It is necessary for Ted to travel out of town several times a year. ...

Of course it’s always nice to get something new, especially clothes… but sometimes you’re not happy about the clothes that you’re getting… Part One My Master told me that he was going to give me something, something that we’d spoken about a while ago. Usually he doesn’t respond very quickly but brings it up again sometime later. This time it was about a suit that I’d seen one night whilst watching TV. We were both relaxing watching a soft porn video that he’d brought home, the picture was showing a woman dressed in a tight fitting rubber suit being bound by rope to a frame, I turned and said that the suit looked very good! Weeks had past since that night but when he told me that we were going out to buy something very special for me my heart leapt, moments like this make me forget that I am not only his wife but also his ‘slave-girl’. ...

The story of the *smart* duct tape. - The SEQUEL! Brief Synopsis: After the DT9000 finished with Sharna in the first story, it shut down and awaited its owner to either upgrade the unit or turf it with the trash. However, Sharna’s neighbour, after hearing nothing from Sharna for nearly two days, decides to come by and see if she is ok. Upon finding the house seemingly deserted, she enters through a window that Sharna often leaves open by habit, and soon finds Sharna wrapped tightly in the lounge room. ...

Several years ago I got talked into a kind of modeling job for one of the owners of the company I work for. I had never even met the man, but his nephew was present at my one and only gangbang, as I was briefly dressed as Ken’s favorite Barbie doll. I was given to Ken as a birthday present by my boyfriend to cheer him up, (see Ken’s Birthday Gift). Apparently Don, the company owner, was so impressed with his nephews recount of his experience, that he had to have a Barbie of his own. Don, the company owner had contacted Ken, because he was the only one besides my now husband who knew that I was the Barbie persona at his birthday party. It’s a complicated story how Ken became the man who was my primary lover, and a very good one, and how my husband became like our pet dog when we played. We don’t feel guilty because hubby likes being our dog, and we only feed him the best dog food. Ken even built him a three foot high dog run around the old dog house at Ken’s cabin. Ken built the dog run so that we could lock our pet dog outside with food and water if we wanted to go out for awhile. Don was insistent and Ken suggested that he tell Don that I was an expensive present, and that he would make up some crazy price for the weekend. Ken was certain Don would choke at some price, and that would spare him from telling the intimidating man no. In all fairness to Ken, I thought it was the best plan at the time also! ...

story continues from part three Chapter 4 Amber peeked out from behind the curtains into the darkness. The outbuildings of the rambling old house that belonged to Jade and Jasmine’s parents were well lit with security lights, but further afield, along the quarter of a mile long driveway that led from the road to the isolated cluster of buildings, the blackness was absolute. Amber checked her watch. The digital display, dazzling in the otherwise unlit room, informed her that it was almost 7pm. Any minute now, the tall blonde woman thought smugly to herself, the prey would show itself. And from that point on, Amber felt certain, there would be no escape for the unsuspecting victim of her subterfuge. ...

story continues from part 7 Chapter 8 In stark contrast to the relative comfort of Lauren’s soft, plush surroundings with the airtight cocoon to keep out the cold, Jade was afforded no such luxury after release from the Japanese-style bondage which Amber had inflicted on her. She had been the first of the trio to be allowed out of her tortuous position, before being marched away from her sister and Lauren. Having spent the past few uncomfortable hours trying to find release from these, the strictest of bonds that Amber had ever imposed upon her, she’d finally had to admit defeat. Normally she was quite adept at getting out of rope bondage, having acquired an expertise matched only by her sister over the course of the years. This Oriental bondage, with its taut webbing and numerous hitches and cinches, knots and splices, however, had left her bewildered and confused as to how to wriggle, squeeze or contort her arms out of the immaculately tied ligatures that surrounded and overwhelmed her. And it appeared, from the grunts of frustration coming from the direction of her twin, that success on this score was also eluding Jasmine. ...

story continues from part five Chapter 6 Jasmine rolled over on the bed and peered through the gloom at the bedside clock. The green digital display announced that it was 6:23 am. It would, she knew, be another hour or so yet before it was light enough to see clearly. This meant that it would be at least that long before she could begin looking for the key to the handcuffs. And without that tiny piece of uniquely shaped metal, she was stuck here. This circumstance was of no concern to her, however. It had been five and a half hours since the clicking ratchets had informed her that she would not be able to slip her hands free from the manacles, so another hour wouldn’t be any great hardship. In fact, she relished the prospect of spending a further sixty minutes or so in her self-induced state of bondage. ...

story continues from part 6 Chapter 7 Hazel shielded her eyes against the wind and gazed out to sea. Despite the wintry sunlight, the wave-lashed Dorset coast, from high above on the cliffs, cut a depressing sight at this time of year. Away to the left, the headland of Hengistbury Head seemed to stand out defiantly and resolutely against the perpetual wrath of the breakers. And closer to her vantage point, the twin fingers of Boscombe pier and, almost directly below her, Bournemouth pier, stretched like clawing fingers out into the choppy grey waters of the English Channel. The beach and promenade, so crowded with bustling holidaymakers during the summer months, was virtually deserted now, with just the occasional jogger, dog walker or fresh air enthusiast braving the near Arctic temperatures. But that suited Hazel fine just now. ...

story continues from part 8 Chapter 9 “Hi Lauren, I’m back.” Steve’s shouted greeting as he entered the house was met only with silence. He wasn’t unduly worried about this lack of response at the time, however. Picking up the mail from the mat in the hallway, he absentmindedly threw this onto the table and went in search of his soulmate. Quickly ascertaining that she wasn’t on the ground floor, he hurried up the stairs and checked the bedroom, then the spare room - the latter known as their bondage playroom, or dungeon - but could find no sign of her. ...

story continues from part four Chapter 5 Amber gazed from the dark interior of the car out into the blackness beyond. Two down, two to go, she thought to herself. She briefly caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the glass and noticed that she was smiling slightly at the notion that the job was half complete, and that, so far, it had all gone according to plan. One of the ‘downed’ duo currently languished only a few feet away in the boot of the car in which they were travelling, whilst alongside her in the driver’s seat, one half of the pair that made up the ‘to go’ category sat, still oblivious to the fact that she would soon become just as much a victim of this whole deception as both her sister and her friend. ...

story continues from part 11 Chapter 12 What it was that caused Hazel to become momentarily distracted wasn’t clear to Steve at the time. Maybe it was a sound that alerted her to the presence of someone else in the doorway; the sound of feet on floor, a gasp of surprise, or even simply the act of someone breathing. Or perhaps she’d noticed something move out of the corner of her eye. It could have been a silhouette briefly crossing the path of one of the now casually positioned torches that caught her attention. Or possibly it was none of the above, but simply a ‘sixth sense’; the feeling of being watched that you have when you know that there’s someone present, although none of your five regular senses seem to have been the receptor to this knowledge. ...

story continues from part 9 Chapter 10 “Very nice. Very nice indeed!” Hazel purred with delight as she cupped Jade’s duct taped chin and forced the helplessly chained woman to stare upwards into her eyes. For several seconds she smiled unfeelingly at her prey, as if taking great pleasure from the fact that she was visibly quaking with fear. Then she briefly glanced back over her shoulder at the woman standing motionlessly by the door. ...

story continues from part two Chapter 3 Lauren cursed under her breath. That must have been the fifth time in the past two hours or so that the phone had rung. Or was it the sixth? To tell the truth she’d lost count by now. But one thing she did know was that these constant interruptions weren’t exactly conducive to a nice, peaceful, relaxing session of self-bondage, which is what she’d been hoping for this Monday morning. ...

story continues from part 10 Chapter 11 Thud…thud…thud… Amber’s conjoined feet beat upwards at the roof of her confining box with as much force as she could muster. The problem was, however, that the shallow nature of her casket meant that building up any momentum was almost impossible, and the fact that the lid of her place of entombment was lagged with a thick layer of foam padding, only added to the muffling effect of her endeavours to make her incarceration known to the world. ...

Emma arrived a half an hour early for the viewing. It was always best to arrive before the client. It also allowed her to make sure that everything was presentable and that there were no unexpected surprises, like burst pipes or collapsed plaster. Although the property was maintained by an agency, it never hurt to check. Emma picked up the print outs of the property that she had bought from the office and leaved through them one more time, just so that she could read the details one more time and compare the description to the actual property. ...

(story continues from Fantasy Football Slaves) Fantasy Football Slave edition The Tara and Racheal story Editor’s note: All characters are fictional. Chapter 2 January 24, just before noon Sue drove the car to Racheal’s home and as they approached the closed gate, all three were amazed at the size of her estate. They were buzzed in and through the intercom and Sue was instructed to park at the garage and they were to walk to the front door. ...

(story continues from Jasmine becomes a Slave) All characters are fictional and any resemblance to living people is just a coincidence as is the football game fictional. Part Two Chapter 3: Learning about Racheal ( some parts are slow but background is needed) After a 20 minute drive, the van passed through an electronic gate and then drove up the long driveway and stopped in front of a huge mansion. “We are home now slave,” Racheal told jasmine. As Jasmine looked at the house she could not believe how rich Racheal was and what horrors were in store for her in there. Dragging jasmine by the leash Racheal entered the house and went directly to the elevator and down to the basement. When the doors opened, jasmine realized just how bad her position was when she saw the best equipped dungeon she had ever seen. ...

(story continues from Jasmine becomes a Slave 2: Learning about Racheal) Part Three Chapter 7: Racheal’s Bound Slaves Racheal allowed jasmine about 10 minutes to regain from the pain of hell. Racheal said, “Now slave I am going to ask you questions and you will respond quickly and truthfully, for if you don’t more minutes in hell will be added, do you understand.” Jasmine nodded her head yes. “Now slave how long were you a Domme?” ...

(story continues from Jasmine becomes a Slave 3: Racheal’s Bound Slaves) Part Four Chapter 11: Jasmine’s Discovery They pushed Jasmine into her cell and locked the door. As she sat on the cot Jasmine had a chance to take note of her condition. She was handcuffed and wearing the control chastity belt so there was no way to pleasure herself. She now knew she was a slave to Racheal who was known as “THE TRAINER”, one of the cruelest Dominatrix’s in the area. Her resolve to fight Racheal was at an all time low from the pain and torture and of being held on the edge of orgasm for so long. Although the orgasm she had at the end of the day was the best she ever had, and while she was watching Racheal and Shelia, she wanted so deeply to please her Mistress. ...

It was very stormy as the boat crossed towards the Western Isles. On board Jesse Haig was looking forward to a month cycling and camping the length of the Scottish islands. A stunning young woman of twenty-two years old, almost Viking in appearance. Think of Hagar’s daughter and you’d get the idea. Thick wavy golden blonde hair, long legs and an athletic body to die for and she’d attracted her fair share of attention since she’d blossomed. Even today while booking her ticket the seller had almost drooled over her. Still a body like hers was a rare sight up here and he’d only been human after all. ...

It had been a slow day at work, but not unusual for a Friday, as people tend to leave any IT problems on Friday afternoon until Monday. Today had been particularly slow at the office. I had given the guys an early afternoon at 16:30 so they had an extra hour for their weekend, and was sat alone in the office just in case a customer phoned in late. I checked my e-mail one last time before closing down the PC’s and doing the rounds, shutting windows and blinds, closing the office doors, quick tidy up of the work bench and then off out the main door setting the alarm and locking the main door. This weekend was a long one as the Monday following was a bank holiday, for which we are closed. I double checked the main door and walked to the car. On the way I heard my phone ping telling me I had a text message. ...

Author’s Note: This is a series of three stories (The last subdivided into two parts), telling the events of the past year from the view of each one of the three main characters. There will be repeating of several key events from the perspectives of at least one of the other main characters. Happy reading my friends ~ Loras Pa6 It was days like today that made me regret retiring as a professional dominatrix and returning to the world of business finance. Nothing went the way it was supposed to. I was definitely glad to be home so I could be comforted by my servants. I entered the house from the garage and my anger doubled at what I saw; only one of my two slaves were at the door waiting for me. My loyal slave kissed my shoes as I entered. “Welcome home Mistress.” ...

(story continues from Slaviversary) 2: The Slut’s Story I was serving Mistress and ‘Master’ their dinner to celebrate his first ‘slaviversary’ (what a stupid name Mistress came up with just to make ‘Master’ happy). I detested calling him Master, especially since he was no more than her submissive. But Mistress insisted he was her husband and I was nothing to her but ’the slut’. I thought back to the time only a year ago that I was a professional Domme (or as Mistress called it: a professional dominant whore, because sex was expected by my customers), with a lucrative side business of selling properly trained slaves into foreign markets. I reflect back on that time and think if I hadn’t been so greedy I would still be a free woman today. ...

(story continues from Slaviversary 2: The Slut’s Story) 3: Little Boy’s Random Memories Pt 1 I was trapped in a device of my own making… literally. Mistress had taken me to our king size bed and immediately stuffed me into the sack of her present. She kissed me through the opening and then slid herself into the shorts. I was immediately in heaven and began to try to send my wife and Mistress there too. I had succeeded, she finally tapped me on the head and told me to stop and I felt her flop back onto the bed. I had given her five squirting orgasms (something she claims she never experienced until she had me). Unfortunately that caused her to slip into what I like to call her ‘Cunnilingus Comas’ where she is so exhausted she literally passes out with me between her legs. Normally I am able to slip out and cuddle with her, sucking her nipples until she comes around. ...

Entry from the S(A)X Leather Bondage Story competition 2005 Catherine Parker is employed by a leading English newspaper, working as a journalist for special features. Based in London for the last few years she has come up through the ranks to become a valued member of her team, and regularly is given international assignments on behalf of the paper. She is 5 foot 4, 28 years old,38 D-21 -36, pretty with long blonde hair, always admired by her male fellow worker’s. but never romances in the office, nicknamed by many around the office as the pocket rocket. ...

(story continues from Summer Training 3)_ _Continued from part 3 Chapter 4 Kim smiled as she drove away, thinking about how easy it was to get Jeffery to let her do her laundry at his house. Of course, she would make sure that her laundry would take time and by the time it was done, she would ask if she could spend the night in Stephanie’s room. If you had boobs and asked nicely, you could get pretty much anything. Once she was there, Kim would also see what Jeffery was keeping a secret. There was something making him nervous as hell and now she was anxious to know what. It wasn’t just the desire to know, but she might also be able to blackmail Jeff into letting her stay at the house while Stephanie and her parents were away. It certainly beat sleeping out in the car or with some guy she barely knew. Another song came on the radio and she sang along with it. Hopefully work wouldn’t be too bad and then she could look forward to tonight. ...

(story continues from The Bones In The Dungeon 5) Part 6 I slept like a rock in my cell despite the “used” way my body felt, and I suspected it would take several days for the marks to fade from my body. I realized I was fortunate not to be permanently damaged by either my Mistress Beth or the muscular man, but perhaps fortune didn’t play all that big a part. If I were seriously damaged Henry would notice and realize this was no game between Beth and I, and if she wanted to use me for her own purposes she couldn’t hurt me too badly without effecting her plans. If I was to be her show pony, she couldn’t treat me too badly without jeopardizing the show, and it was with this new confidence that I addressed her when she came down to collect me several hours later. ...

(story continues from The Bones In The Dungeon 6) Part 7 I just knew there had to be a catch with Beth wanting to take me out for the day, and then I realized it was October thirty first, Halloween, the one day a year that ghosts and other ghouls can travel freely between this realm and the other. I wondered why she would pick this particular day to take me out and away from the castle. Perhaps it actually was ladies night at the club she spoke of, but with my level of suspicion it could also be one of the clubs she had visited in search of satisfaction at the end of a whip, and ladies night there could be a very bad experience for me. I didn’t forget about deceiving her on the great wheel, and I doubt she did either. ...

(story continues from The Coincidence) Part Three Chapter 10: A Friend When Rebecca woke up the next day, she finally felt refreshed. The sickness was gone, and the awful taste was replaced with the taste of Tracy’s wonderful cooking. Rebecca got up quietly so as not to disturb the exhausted Tracy, and showered quickly, the water running over the metal of the collar and chastity belt. Rebecca put her hair up in a high ponytail, noticing in the mirror that the collar said “SLAVE”. Rebecca smiled, understanding why the man called her slave, and pegged it down as another sexy thing. After all, even though she hated the experience, she did successfully get a man. ...

(story continues from The Coincidence 3: A Friend) Part Four Chapter 14: Third Wheel The girls had decided to meet next weekend on Saturday evening, and hang out on Sunday as well. Rebecca left this time with her clothes and their keys, saying that she might go to a bar with Richard on Friday, but promising to drive home separately from him to avoid what Tracy called “funny business”. Tracy wondered how Rebecca would lace herself into a corset, but figured that Rebecca would manage something, or just wear one of her catsuits instead. ...

(story continues from The Final Trek) My time is short, so I bring it to a close. I hope I didn’t leave too many mistakes, but I am worked as fast as I could. I admit to running off my family several times so I could write, for some reason the desire to finish this story compels me. I even think that goal has kept me going a couple more days. KM ...

(story continues from The Great Marvolo) Part 2 Author’s Note: Thanks to Jennifer Harrison for her assistance, and for letting me read her great-great grandmother’s diary. When I heard the Inspector say, “You are under arrest” I was momentarily shocked into immobility. Then I jumped to my feet, but before I could move the policeman pulled my arms behind my back and the Inspector locked handcuffs on my wrists. As I was dragged to the door I shouted, “I’m innocent! You must believe that, Lady Agnes!” Then I was hustled outside and down the corridor. If she replied I did not hear her. ...

Chapter 1 Life was not going well for Bud, a single fifty year old male, and owner of an expensive home in the Los Angeles metro area. Up until one month ago he had been a contract employee of a super secret organization, which engaged in the most nefarious of enterprises, that being human trafficking. This did not involve the procurement of foreign females for sexual services in the United States. To the contrary attractive American females were abducted from their homes and elsewhere, then sold to buyers in Central America and Mexico. ...

Chapter 1: Cathy the Cat Burglar Cathy scaled the perimeter wall and momentarily sat atop the high brick structure. Her eyes swiftly scanned the landscape in front of her; no trace of guard dogs roaming the overgrown lawns, no sign of security personnel or movement sensitive lighting. In fact, aside from the wall and the securely locked wrought iron gates, there was very little sign of there being any preventative measures having been put in place to deter trespassers from getting into the grounds. Her gaze drifted further afield, towards the mansion house about one hundred yards in front of her. The rambling old building, with its Tudor architecture, had seen better days, but was still quite impressive, even when viewed in twilight. How many rooms were there? There must be at least a hundred, Cathy guessed, taking into account the towers that rose at each corner above the main body of the building. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 17: The Party) Chapter 18: A Clearer View of Things When Cathy again saw daylight after the conclusion of the ordeal she and Bethany had shared in the cellar, it was obviously late afternoon. Although the passing of the hours and days was not easy to gauge in her almost continuous state of sensory deprived imprisonment, a quick calculation told her that she had been held here for five days and five nights by this time, which meant that it must be Wednesday. So if Dolores’ assertion that this effort to brainwash both herself and her fellow captive was to commence next week, there were still at least four days in the interim period to be negotiated and survived prior to this form of mental indoctrination being forced upon them. What was going to happen in the meantime? None of the probable scenarios bore too much thinking about. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange) Chapter 2: Kangaroo Court To say that Cathy’s mind was in a state of turbulence would have been an understatement. With her future a complete unknown, the stricken woman spent a sleepless night on the hard, uncomfortable floor of her cell, with little to take her mind off the grave situation she found herself in. In all her years of breaking and entering, she had had a few close shaves. Once or twice, the owner of the property that she had been targeting had almost caught her in the act. Once she had even been chased by an irate, shotgun wielding elderly gentleman, whose valuables she had just managed to liberate. But each time, her feline like agility and speed had been sufficient to get her out of a fix. Even when, on two occasions, the police had arrived whilst she was still at the ‘scene of the crime’, she’d still managed to slip away and avoid capture. This time, however, there was no getting away. Although she knew that being arrested would probably result in her being given a custodial sentence – especially if the numerous other offences she’d committed could be linked to her and taken into consideration – she began to wonder whether this might actually be a more preferable outcome than the one looming large before her now. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 20: The Training Room - Revisited) Chapter 21: Saskia’s Unexpected Discovery With great difficulty, Saskia propelled herself, caterpillar fashion, across the floor of her padded prison. Reaching a corner of the room, she rolled over awkwardly and pulled herself up into a sitting position, with the soft, yielding wall at her back. The effort needed to achieve this posture had made her breathless, and the rag filling her mouth, plus the tape that held it in place, made taking in air a task that could only be accomplished through her nostrils. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 22: Dolores’ Little Secret) Chapter 23: Saskia’s Plans Take Shape Saskia walked out into the hallway directly outside Dolores’ apartments, her mind reeling from the discovery she’d just made and – more importantly – what she’d just done. For several seconds, as she made her way towards the nearest staircase, the sound of muffled screams and stifled banging assaulted her ears. But as she put more distance between herself and the hellish rumpus that the Mistress of Shackleton Grange was stirring up, the less pronounced the sound became, until, once on the landing of the next floor down, it faded away, to leave the old house in a state of ghostly silence. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 2) Chapter 3: Horse Play After what seemed like several hours, during which Cathy had no option but to remain in immovable stasis, the sound of several sets of feet approaching slowly but surely built in volume, until they sounded as if they were just outside the door. The turning of the key in the lock, then the creaking of the ancient wood, was swiftly followed by the unmistakable tones of Dolores’ voice permeating through the layers of latex. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 6) Chapter 7: An Evening of Discovery As Bethany entered the room, the soft hubbub of conversation died down, and all heads turned in the direction of the newcomer. She paused and stood nervously looking around at the assembled women; numbering twelve, if the calculation gleaned from her swift glance around the room was accurate. All wore tightly fitting cat-suits of various materials, which showed off their long legs and shapely figures perfectly. Eight of the women sat in two rows of chairs that had been laid out theatre-style in a semi circle. They sat giggling nervously and whispering to each other behind their hands, and shifted somewhat apprehensively in their seats. These, Bethany guessed, were her classmates. The two mute and hooded servants that Bethany had already encountered, stood to one side, as if waiting for orders. And they had been joined by a third, similarly dressed female, whose outfit, in contrast to the neutral tones of the other two, was a bright vivid pink. The final figure, who had been standing with her back to the door upon Bethany’s entrance, was Dolores. Sensing the new arrival’s presence, she turned and beckoned her to come forward. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 7) Chapter 8: A Shared Experience Dolores took two steps forward, her shadow looming large over the two figures hunched in the dark corner of the room; one entirely cocooned in duct tape, the other swathed only in fear. She bent over and grabbed the spandex neck of Bethany’s cat-suit, forcing her to stand up to her full height. From a distance of no more than six inches, she glared at her house guest, fury flashing in her dark eyes, although when she spoke, her words were those of someone calmly in control of the situation. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 8) Chapter 9: Ice and Fire For Cathy, the last twenty four hours or so had been a rollercoaster ride that had risen skywards and plunged the absolute depths between both ends of the emotional spectrum. **** Having found a strange yet satisfying sexual fulfilment through Dolores’ efforts on Sunday night, she’d slept well for the first time since her capture, and had woken only when a sound from close at hand disturbed her slumbers. The memory of that brief but enlightening encounter was still fresh in her memory, as was Dolores’ assertion that Cathy would - given a few days - begin to enjoy her time spent in inescapable bondage. But was that true? Could she really learn to love the sensation of not being able to move of her own volition? Whilst the experience of last night did indeed shine brightly in her memory, it was no more than a solitary lighthouse beacon on an otherwise unlit stretch of desolate rocky shoreline. ...

(story continues from The Ship’s Queen 3) Part Four I was woken from my slumber by the intercom, it’s bell like ding weaving itself into my most unusual dream. In it I was home once again in the company of my young wife on planet, but dressed as a female maid and feeling not all that convincing in my costume. My best friend and her were entertaining at his large house like the couple they now apparently were, she ringing a hand bell with a tone matching the intercom’s to call me to service as they sat entwined with each other in casual intimacy. I was serving them as well as their guests whom I knew from my snack tray, it’s shinning surface reflecting my appearance back to me and confirming what all present already obviously knew. I was her husband dressed as their maid, and failing terribly at the effort. That in fact seemed the whole point, a commonly known secret on display at the party if you will, with the added implication that this would be the extent of my contribution to our evolved relationship… ...

Sarah was looking out of her bedroom window on the second floor of her large house. She lived by herself in a nice Victorian house in north Oxford. She was a stunning looking 26 year old from Abu Dhabi and had moved to England 10 years ago. Her long purple hair was well look after and flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her brown eyes had layer after layer of mascara on them and a tonne of eye-liner. Her nose had a bull piercing through it and her face was clear and fresh. Her body was thin and well toned and her ass was rock solid. She had playful breasts and a shaved pussy. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 13: Lea and the Unexpected Companion) Part 14: Zainab and the White Christmas “Come on, I bet one phone call and we could all be in the Bahamas by dinner,” Andrea said as she sat and watched Zainab pack. “And as tempting as that is, you made me promise that I wouldn’t let you talk us out of going up to Megan’s place for Christmas,” she said without even breaking her stride. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 3: Andrea and the Changing Friendship) Part 4: Andrea and the Full House Megan and Sophia sat in slack-jawed silence across from Andrea and Lea trying to process what Lea had just told them. “So let me get this straight. You own this place,” Sophia said slowly as she looked around the living room, as if to make it extra clear which place she meant. ...

(story continues from The Stories of Bound Friends 6: Lea and the Digital Friend) Part 7: Megan and the Unorthodox Reunion Lea tried to get past what had just happened. She didn’t want to dwell on being blackmailed into extending her term of service to that AI dominatrix bitch, but how could she not? Hannah was giving her space to think on it, but she almost wished she wouldn’t. Thinking wasn’t helping. Though there’s a lot of things she wished Hannah would do that she had no power to compel. But that’s the gist of being the submissive slave, you aren’t in control. Period. And most frustrating of all, she had a safeword programmed in, but now if she ever used it the program would turn to standby which would stop it from communicating with its unknown server which would lead to all those videos all being released. No, given enough time she might just find that server, find some way to get free, but not right now. ...

(story continues from The Tales of Sir Dwayne 2: The Lark) The Tales of Sir Dwayne - 3: The Offer She offered an honor. He honored her offer. And it is was on her and off her all night! Dwayne smiled at the thought. The whore, nee Lady Brigit, trailed along behind, half stumbling, her tattered dress dirtier. It had been a long day; a long, dusty walk. She’d stop a moment, only to be pulled along by her bound wrists. A long, dusty, boring day. And he was in need. He had had no release the prior night. Having the whore had put him into a mind where release was a given. ...

Prelude He woke shivering in the chill fall air… He was naked, of course, except for the chastity cage that was locked about his genitals, for how long now he could not even remember, and the chains and collar. The coarse burlap that covered the straw pallet that had been his bed for the night did little to offer comfort, let alone warmth, but somehow he had slept. He moaned and rolled about, struggling up to his elbows as he looked around the dim, stone chamber. ...

The Discovery Mandy was a 19 year old beautiful young student who had started her first semester in biology. Since she was a small child she had always been interested in biology and animals especially amphibians like slugs and reptiles. Snakes always fascinated her and she always found them very erotic, as they reminded her of a huge slimy cock. Her opinion of snakes was that they where the perfect lover for a woman. ...

(story continues from Tightly Bound Bride) Chapter Twelve The dungeon was windowless, so Mary had no idea if it was day or night when the door opened, and the lights were turned on. She was blinded by the sudden brightness, and closed her eyes. Squinting, and blinking against the glare, she slowly opened her eyes, hoping against hope that this was all either a bad dream, or extremely bad joke. The immense gag in her mouth kept her head rigid, and she could not turn in the direction of the footsteps. Her heart sank when the person who entered her field of vision was not James. It was Erika. ...

(story continues from Tightly Bound Bride) Chapter Fifteen It was early evening when the intercom from the main gate buzzed urgently. The downstairs maid answered. “Yes?” “Mary Edwards, please.” inquired the voice at the other end. “This is Ms. Erika’s Shultz’s residence.” the maid responded. “Mrs. Edwards died in a plane crash with her husband some months ago.” The voice answered with a tight laugh. “OK,” it answered. “I’ll play this game for a while. May I then speak to Ms. Shultz, then?” The maid hesitated, frowning. “I don’t know if Ms. Shultz is available, Madam.” she answered. “Well,” came the voice. “Tell Ms. Shultz that she either speaks with me, or the police…..its up to her. I’ll wait five minutes.” The maid answered “Yes, Madam.” and rushed to convey the message. In several minutes the electronic gate opened, and Cissi Miller drove up the long driveway, parked, and knocked on the door. Erika answered. “Yes? she inquired politely. “My name is Cissi Miller.” said the dark haired young woman at the door. “I am a good friend of Mary Edwards..formerly Edmonds. I was her Maid of Honor when she married James, and was her bondage Mistress before you were.” Erika’s eyes opened wide in surprise for a moment, but she kept calm. “What might I do for you, Miss Miller?” she asked. “I know for a fact that Mary didn’t die in that crash, and that you have kept her as a slave and defrauded James’ insurance company and his estate out of this house.” “Oh?” laughed Erika nervously. “What a silly story. However did you get that idea?” Cissi turned, and motioned to the car. Erika recoiled when she saw Maria, the little housemaid, get out and walk toward them. “Maria came to me with the whole story, which is taped and will be forwarded to the police just in case you were thinking of any rough stuff.” Cissi looked at Erika like she was smelling a dead animal in the road. “Now, may I come in?” she asked. “Uh….ye…..yes. Of course.” Erika stood back, and allowed Cissi and Maria to enter. ...

(story continues from Tightly Bound Bride) Chapter Fourteen Maria, like a good servant, was very, very diligent in following her orders. There was not a single nook or cranny anywhere in Mary’s body that was not thoroughly inspected and cleansed. Mary gasped as special attention was paid to the pink opening winking from the crack between her ass cheeks, and her denuded pussy. Maria scrubbed these two openings over and over again. One cannot be too sure! ...

(story continues from Tightly Bound Bride) Chapter Thirteen Mary could tell by the position of the sun that is was almost 6:00 in the evening. “Good,” she thought to herself, shrugging the ache from her neck and shoulders. Today had been “silver day”, one of her less favorite chores. The household had hundreds of pounds of sterling silver–tableware, tea services, platters and candlesticks–and once a month it was her task to clean them. She would be dressed in a tight corset and her gray, functional maid’s outfit. An immense harness ballgag would be wedged between her teeth, and her lacy maid’s hat would be placed upon her blond head. She would be collared, and lead down to the pantry, where she would be perched on a hard, uncomfortable stool. Her ankles would be cuffed together, with a short chain threaded through the rungs of the stool. So as not to scratch the silver, her wrists could not be cuffed. Instead a leather belt was locked around her corseted waist. There were rings on either side of the belt. Leather cuffs were locked around each upper arm just above the elbows, and these cuffs were locked to the ring on the belt, keeping her elbows tightly against her sides. There was enough room to reach the silver piled in front of her on the table, but not enough to reach the lock on her gag, or ankles. Mary sighed when she saw the huge pile of silver that she was expected to polish to a brilliant shine before the end of the day. Next to the silver was a giant economy sizes bottle of silver polish, and a pile of clean, soft rags. Reaching for the first piece, she began her task at a brisk pace. She was allowed a short break mid-morning and afternoon, and was un-gagged for ten minutes to drink a bowl of thin, tasteless soup for lunch. With the constriction of the corset, she couldn’t eat much anyway! ...

(story continues from Tough Love Part 7: Beaten) Part 8: Enslaved If I thought my life was bad up to then, the next few days showed me how hard things could really be. Lucy had announced out of the blue that she would be going away for ten days to finalise the contract with the Italians. This news seemed to make Lynn even more domineering. I came home from work every day as usual, stripped off my clothes, donned my apron and did my chores. Lynn appeared to try her hardest to find the slightest fault with my work, and she made sure she thought of many other jobs for me to do. Of course, every order she gave me was accompanied with liberal use of her crop. ...

(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 5: Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the Forest…) Chapter 6: A Tour of the Cellars I lent back against the stone wall and heard myself sigh. My left hand moved unconsciously and stroked Bo Peep’s blonde curls. She made a little sound of contentment and her head moved softly on my lap. I wondered what had become of Snow White. We had all been dragged into the castle together but where we had been confined in our dungeon cell she had been dragged screaming away by a duo of the huge hairy beastmen the Evil Queen used to keep order about her kingdom. ...

(story continues from Trouble in Fairyland 6: A Tour of the Cellars) Chapter 7: Red Riding Hood’s Fate The moment the door crashed closed behind me the heat and humidity hit me so hard it was almost a physical sensation. Dragged away from the squealing Bo Peep in the tormented mechanical embrace of that evil machine my clothes and collar had melted away before the crackling magics of the Evil Queen and now I stood naked beyond a heavy iron-studded door. I felt and heard the bolts being shot home as I stood there with my shoulder blades pressed against the rough woodwork. ...

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 2: A Day of Repentance) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 3: The first day of punishment) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Convicted of terrorism, Vicki is sentenced to penal slavery Vicki, a young woman who works for a large department store, figures out a way to bypass the electronic return tags on expensive dresses sold by the store where she works . This allows her to buy dresses on a Friday, wear them to events over the weekend, and return them on Monday. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 4: A Corporate Flogging Contest) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy learns there is more than one kind of spanking. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 5: Old-fashioned Reformed School Punishment) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy is caned by a robot. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...

(story continues from Twelve Days a Slave 6: Madison Robotic Discipline System) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Slave missy endures a variety of water punishments. This is the story of a young woman’s conviction as a terrorist and what happens to her when she is sentenced to penal slavery. Penal slavery is not impossible. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments to the Constitution of the United States of America do not NOT prohibit slavery. They only LIMIT slavery to punishment for crimes. In other words, the Constitution allows penal slavery. ...