Cellar

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. ...

Sarah had recently inherited an old cottage after her auntie had passed away. It needed some work to fix it up but it was just the break she needed to get onto the property ladder. She hadn’t known her auntie well, mainly that she lived a secluded life and apart from Christmas and birthday cards, she never really saw her. Sarah was in her twenties and single. She was pretty with a sexy body but seemed unable to find her perfect man. ...

Continues from Part One Part Two Chapter 4 There the casket remained, Jenna coming around at least once a week, usually on the Tuesday night and she’d happily climb into the box, Ted locking her limbs but on at least one occasion realised his hands had brushed her breasts while lowering the girl into the collar. To prove that theory on the next visit she arrived early and stripped off her skirt and blouse. Wearing her best underwear and was in the box, kneeling and ready. Gagged and blindfolded with her ankles already done. Ted had come in and saw Miss Rennie there… ...

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… ...

Part 1. Getting caught. I see myself as an artist. I have turned the skill of pick pocketing into an art. I am able to asses where people carry cash and other valuables and then I usually know the best way to get my hands on it without them noticing it. My name is Manon. I am a young woman blessed with an athletic figure and I am good in running and gymnastics. I like what I do and have never been caught. I have a lot of freedom and combine my “work” with traveling to the cities around the world. My strategy is always to dress innocent and slightly sexy. In this way people do not suspect me and the men are usually distracted. ...

Mackenzi gave the steel shell door a shove with her shoulder and it burst open, causing her to nearly fall into the sweltering garage. As if the oppressive heat and humidity outside wasn’t bad enough… She closed the door behind her again, giving it another shove to re-stick it closed. To her right was the back door to the house, and the puff of cool air conditioning sent a shiver across her damp skin as she walked inside. ...

Mackenzi gave the steel shell door a shove with her shoulder and it burst open, causing her to nearly fall into the sweltering garage. As if the oppressive heat and humidity outside wasn’t bad enough… She closed the door behind her again, giving it another shove to re-stick it closed. To her right was the back door to the house, and the puff of cool air conditioning sent a shiver across her damp skin as she walked inside. ...

(story continues from Homecoming 6: Silent Witness) Authors note: This is a standalone story featuring characters from Homecoming Part 7: Arietta’s Turn “Mother, do I have to?” Isolda sighed softly. How can it be, she thought, that I can rule and entire kingdom, yet I can’t seem to get through to my own daughter? Maybe the old ways really are best. “Etta,” she said softly, “it’s not like I’m asking you to do anything difficult.” ...

This story narrates in detail the acquisition, sexual reassignment and transformation of two young men into permanent possessions of members in a very exclusive club, as described in “A Weekend at the Club” and therefore should be read in conjunction with that story. Part 1: Acquisition Membership in the Club is exclusive. The Club is exceptionally secret and has very limited membership. They are all very rich and live very private lives, which allow them to carry on their very private interests. Put simply they acquire – abduct – innocent (well for the most part) young men and women and turn them into their slaves. Outrageous and deplorable in this modern age? Certainly, but it does happen, and with sufficient resources, boundless imagination and secret and inescapable locations, this Club has proved very successful. ...

story continued from part one Part 2: Training It was with mixed emotions that Olivia and Tanya, or 11 and 23, emerged into the bright sunlight of a summer’s morning. They had followed each other up the back stairs of the west wing of the huge mansion in which they were being held. Olivia had followed Tanya and had admired her shiny tight rubber rear, and the wiggling of her tail as she took the stairs carefully. Now they stood docilely, side by side as their mistress clipped a short steel rod of about 9 inches to the D-rings on the sides of their belts, leaving them locked together, but not touching. They both breathed in the warm sweet air, something they had not done for a long time, and took in the limited view from between their blinkers. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: Meeting the Family and Final Training The next two months were hard toil, not for their mistress of course but for the poor ponies. It was as if they had to start all over again, and to a certain degree they had. It’s true that if you lose one of your senses then the others become more acute, but it took a torrid first week for them to become more sensitive to the bit, reins, and worst of all, the vibrating butt plug. The first day was a bit of a shambles and mistress called it a day at lunch. She had taken them upstairs and outside to the vast gardens, lined them up in the arms of the buggy, and then simply said. ...

I woke up with a start, trying to move my hands I realised they were cuffed behind me, the stainless steel manacles were digging into my wrists from the tension of the chain coming from my manacled ankles. The back of my neck was sore from the 2” wide stainless steel collar that encircled it, not helped by the chain that was attaching me to the wall only 12” away. I was lying on my side, the only position in which I had been able to get anyway like comfortable, my legs ached, bent as they were towards my hands. ...

Outward Bound is an international, outdoor-education organization which organises challenging expeditions aimed at promoting wilderness survival skills. This story, however, brings a whole new meaning to the term. **** Jessica scoured the landscape in every direction, in what turned out to be an utterly futile effort to find a familiar landmark on the featureless Scottish moor. She had to face the fact that she was lost. She cursed to herself beneath her breath. What the hell was she doing out here all alone in the wilderness, miles from civilisation? The Outward Bound holiday hadn’t been her idea, nor indeed something that she’d been particularly keen on getting involved in. But her friend Penny had, over the course of several weeks, managed to convince Jessica to go along with her. Her boyfriend Mike, who as well as being her lover also happened to be Penny’s brother, had also cajoled her into taking up the challenge. In fact he’d been extremely keen for her to go; strangely over enthusiastic really, when she thought about it. As he couldn’t take any time off work at the moment, he’d told her, she should take a break without him and get away for a few days. ...

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. ...

Sally had found the place some months ago, she had visited it with the real estate agent, a disused church in the middle of a nearby town, this was Wales, there were probably 1000’s of these places up for sale, this one was only £40,000. The Church had no land or parking so conversion to anything of value was always going to be difficult, it had been on the market for 2 years already – therefore it would take a long time to sell – this suited Sally perfectly. ...

Sally had found the place some months ago, she had visited it with the real estate agent, a disused church in the middle of a nearby town, this was Wales, there were probably 1000’s of these places up for sale, this one was only £40,000. The Church had no land or parking so conversion to anything of value was always going to be difficult, it had been on the market for 2 years already – therefore it would take a long time to sell – this suited Sally perfectly. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: The Fitting Sylvia directed Katherine towards the front of the retail space where the dresses and gowns were arrayed on fashionable mannequins. Although all the fashions were feminine, several of the mannequins, Katherine noticed, were male, although feminized male figures with feminine chests, waists, and hips. Every dress was of soft, shimmery latex, strategically placed lighting showing them off to their best benefit. Every dress was also constraining, tightly fitted, and obviously meant to confine and limit the wearer’s freedom of movement. In some cases this restraint was quite subtle. A tighter than normal skirt or straps that draped loosely on the mannequin but would have limited the stride and resisted the movement of the wearer. ...

“It’s a relatively simple spell,” she said. She was dressed simply in a plain grey dress, no tights or stocking and low heels, despite this her 5’ 6”height and the voluptuous shape of her body made her very desirable. She was a witch who had imprisoned in a cellar beneath my house for nearly 400 years. It all started when I bought this Elizabethan house, it was almost derelict and I worked on it for 2 years to restore back to its original state. I had inherited a large sum from my parents and at 40 years of age could retire and do almost anything I want to. ...

story continued from part one Part 2 By this time, Tara had forced her tired limbs & aching body into a sitting position, waiting with baited breath for the next sound to reach her, & hoping against hope that the voice hadn’t been just wishful thinking on her part. Her next encounter with her potential rescuers - for there had to be at least two of them out there given the voice - was not aural but visual. Through the encrusted glass & the mesh, the outline of a man’s face appeared briefly before disappearing again, only to return a few seconds later. The voice again accompanied this second appearance. ...

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 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. ...

SM Ackerman is the author of several bondage & DiD stories to be found on Amazon & Pink Flamingo, check them out online. My name is Louisa and I have hated being called that since I was very little, so everyone calls me Lou. I am twenty-three years old, five-foot-nine, and at school I was called string-bean, the reason I am sure is obvious and I don’t intend to go into more detail than that. My sister who is four years younger than I am insisted that I write this story, so that the whole world would know what a bitch I was to her on that fateful day so many years ago. ...

Author’s note: I never expected to write a story that took place in Regency England, the favorite setting for Romance novels (also known as bodice rippers), but here it is. Many thanks toJennifer Harrison for providing details of Wiltshire and for channeling the thoughts and emotions of her ancestor and namesake. I groaned as I tried unsuccessfully to ease the pain I had endured since midnight of the previous day, locked in stocks that imprisoned my wrists and ankles in their implacable oaken clasp. Once again I strained to see if the sky was darkening, peering through the small barred window at the top of the cellar wall. My torture would last until sunset, if I survived it. But I knew I would survive this torture, even though my back ached from being bent so long, even though my muscles were tied in knots from their forced immobility. The thick wooden dowel forcing my mouth to stay open made it feel as though my jaw would drop off. ...

Authors note: This is a very dangerous and stupid thing to do in real life, please be careful what your fantasy life leads you to, in reality. Remember safety first, so be careful always and enjoy. S M Ackerman. Coal Faced. I suppose there must be the obligatory who am I bit! I am tall, slim, blond, gorgeous, sexy, attractive, irresistible and female!!! No I’m only kidding! I am female, and I suppose reasonably attractive, being slightly built, but with little but cute chest. I have nice long wavy hair and longish legs. I hope that will do, so to my story. ...

from the 2007 Halloween special A gentle breeze rustled the leaves as two white ghosts moved slowly along the dark road. A pirate, a skeleton and a witch approached from the other direction on the opposite side of the road walking at a brisker pace. All except the tall ghost were carrying plastic containers. That carried by the short ghost was in the shape and color of a ripe pumpkin. It was Halloween and they were all out trick-or-treating, going door-to-door demanding candy. The two ghosts were a man and a girl, but not father and daughter as one might suppose, rather they were master and slave. As the two groups drew opposite each other the skeleton and the witch stopped to look at the ghosts. Skye, one of the ghosts, felt a chill, stumbled and had to take a few quick steps to recover. ...

“What the hell!” Geoff stood agog at the sight that beheld him just a few yards away on the other side of the bushes. There dancing in the moonlight were some naked men and women. They were dancing around a fire. Geoff counted them. There were six men and six women. They were all chanting some weird incantations. Geoff could not understand what they were chanting. “It must be in some foreign language!” he thought, “I had better get out of here before they see me!” He took one last look at them. From the flickering flames reflecting on their bodies and faces, Geoff surmised they must be about fifty. He had always imagined some nubile young girls dancing naked, but if these were witches, then they could stop someone dead in their tracks just by looking at them. ...

Andrea shifted slightly on the sofa as her brother stormed through the door. Her eyes darted back and forth from the pages of the book she was reading to the out of breath boy. “Rough Friday, freshman?” “What?” Aaron asked, startled by the question. He had not seen his sister sitting there when he walked in. Quickly, the boy stripped off his lightweight jacket, throwing it over a nearby chair, and began to ascend the staircase leading to the top floor of the house. ...

Sara sat anxiously in her first class seat. She had been on hundreds of plane flights before since she started working as a flight attendant, but this time was different. She was a passenger on her way to a two week long vacation. But this vacation was going to be unlike any other she had ever taken and she knew it. Sara met Jason over the internet five months ago and they were looking forward to when she could come for a visit. They had e-mailed and talked over the phone many times and have become good friends during all their conversations. ...

Amy and I knew of each others self bondage games and often talked about them amongst ourselves, but we have never done a game with each other. We decided it was time to change that. After coming up with ideas, we found one that we both wanted to do. In Amy’s basement, which serves as our dungeon whenever any of us do any bondage games, there’s a sort of closet size room in there with no door. That is where we chose to be tied. Our story would be that we are captured by some knights and locked in here until we are to be tortured. First thing we had to do was make a door that we could shut and use to keep us in there. With a little help from some wood, cardboard and a staple gun, we managed to make a pretty nice looking door. We cut some bar shapes near the top to give it a dungeon door look to it, and to let some light in the room. We pushed the door into the frame of the room and it fit very tightly. Perfect. Now to set up our bondage. ...

continued from part three Part 4: Naughty Slave I had broken a rule that may seem unyielding a few days ago, but now, I put myself above it, I had defied the Mistress. I can’t really put my reasons into a single cause, but rather several failures on the part of Stacy. I was genuinely angry with her lack of concern for the scene she was playing out. I felt that she was too dark a person to rule my world, and I would not be a part of her sadistic fantasies. Cruelty was something we never discussed. She left me in a cold dark basement, naked, freezing. It must have been below sixty degrees Fahrenheit down there. I would not be tortured because of her inexperience. I knew this was the first time that she had attempted to ‘play’ with others, and I would not wait for her to figure it out, while my weekend got worse and worse. Even as I go over the justifications in my head, I knew there was something taboo about my actions. Turning against a Mistress, even if she were a bad one, had bad karma. ...

continued from part two_ Part 3: Kelly & Stacy It has been two weeks since my fantastic experience with Mistress Elaine. Even thought I got everything that I dreamed of and more from the experience, I have been going to work each day feeling less excited, and have problems keeping a positive attitude about my thoughts. I shouldn’t feel this way, I say to myself, you’ve had the time of your life, and you’re better than this. But it really doesn’t help, it just doesn’t seem to change the facts of life, I am still the same person, even if I have been enlightened by my new experiences. Besides, there is only one person I could share this experience with, Kelly. ...

After an evening at home entertaining, Jenny discovers the joys of mummification, but gets more than she bargained for when things start to go wrong… Part 1: Jenny’s Introduction Hi, my name’s Jenny and my introduction to the joys of mummification bondage started when my husband, John invited his friend Mike over for the evening. We’d had a few drinks and talked a lot, mostly about Mike and his recent marriage break-up. He kept saying that his wife, Sally had changed but wouldn’t go into any details. We had a few more drinks and decided to go inside and watch a video. While I got some food together, John sorted out the video we were going to see, grabbing some nibbles I walked into the lounge and placed the food down on the coffee table in front of Mike. John then turned the video on and we watched the film, it wasn’t has good as we’d thought it would be, so we decided to change it. ...

Jenny had experienced the joys of being wrapped, bagged and even buried at the hands of her husband and new found lover, but she still craved more bondage… continued from part one Part 2: Bound for Discovery It had been a couple of weeks since I’d seen Mike, my husband John and I had been busy working, or playing bondage games with different knots that John had learnt from Mike. I should explain here that Mike is my husband’s friend, we have been playing bondage games together for the past few weeks ever since Mike had spent the evening at our home watching videos of me being tied by John for our home videos, they were put on by ‘accident’ by John, he still claims that it wasn’t deliberate. Since then I have been bound in a variety of ways and used by both men for our mutual pleasure. I had come to love being tied by Mike’s expert hands and had sought him out on several occasions to get him to tie me up. ...

The story below is a follow up to my earlier story “You are A product to be Dealt with” and is a work of fiction, But should Hazel return as I hope she will it might be become A true story and its all Gromet’s fault. The phone rang it was seven in the morning I thought to myself “Who the hell is this at this unearthly hour?” The answer phone machine clicked in and my voice mechanically drowned, “Hi Jenny is out at the moment but leave a message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible”. ...

I have always been interested in the medieval times. They were good at restraint and punishment. I had always decided that I too would like to experience the medieval punishment and restraint. I envisioned myself stripped and shackled and led away to the dark castle dungeon locked away. So I created this dungeon scene, my most elaborate self-bondage I have done yet. The house that my girlfriend Adonica and I live in was built in the early 1940’s so the basement was perfect. It needed to be just right however! I wanted this to feel real and the set had to be prepared carefully! I started by carrying in buckets of dirt that I got from the apartment housing that was going up in the lots across the way from our house. Piles of dirt from the basements were easily accessible and I carried bucked after bucket of black dirt down the basement making a very nice and thick dirt floor in the smallest room of the tiny basement. The dungeon was taking shape. Next I covered the window with cardboard so it would be dark, I cut little slots in the cardboard before placing it over the window giving the impression of closely spaced bars. The small amount of light that shown in was perfect for day and at night would be almost completely black as I checked it during the night that week prior to my time of confinement. The outside street light was at just an angle from the house that only small slivers of light shone in, just enough for me to be able to glimpse myself in my bondage imprisonment in the late evening and early morning hours. ...

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. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 12: The Training Room) Chapter 13: And So to Sleep Cathy looked across to the doorway and her heart sank. Time seemed to freeze. If fear had been a marketable commodity, she could have made a fortune in the interminable seconds that followed. For blocking the only exit was the last person in the world that Cathy would have been hoping to see at that moment. Dolores was standing in a slightly more stooped posture than her usual upright stance, and her left hand was held against her stomach. As she moved further into the room, Cathy noticed her wince with pain, and realised that this had to be a consequence of Bethany’s delaying tactics. Her hair, previously immaculately styled, was now tangled and dishevelled, and her face was red; although whether the latter was due to rage or pain it was hard to gauge. Probably a mixture of both, Cathy decided. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 13: And So to Sleep) Chapter 14: The Wheel and the Well Bethany’s journey out of enforced sedation was a harrowing process. Initially resting in a dreamless, artificially induced state of deep sleep, her anaesthetised brain gradually entered a period where vivid images flashed across her mind’s eye. And the scenes that passed before her during this REM phase of her slumbers, forced her to relive a semi-factual account of the incidents that had befallen her since arriving at Shackleton Grange– with a few weird variations and impossible episodes thrown in for good measure. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 14: The Wheel and the Well) Chapter 15: A Plethora of Tortures The almost inaudible flutter of what seemed like a thousand candle flames; the soft plopping sound as a drop of molten wax fell to the stone floor; the gentle straining sound of the rope as it chaffed against the pulley, high above on the ceiling; the creak of the timber cogs, behind her back and out of sight. All these sounds paled into insignificance when compared to the thump, thump, thump of Cathy’s heart, and the irregular sound of her breath as she fought to keep her terrified mind and body under some sort of self control. Although remaining motionless wasn’t a problem for her in the short term, how would she fare after many hours of this stretched out immobility? What if she fell asleep and inadvertently stirred during her slumbers? Would this be enough to submerge Bethany in the deadly waters of the well? ...