Ceremony on Gromet's Plaza Archive

The Student and the Soldier

Sat, 01 Jun 2019 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 25

“It’s not right, Suzi. You know that tomorrow is your wedding, and your plan to spend the night with Paul is just wrong!” Mom was giving me the business about my decision to spend the night before our wedding in Paul’s bed.

“Mom, I’m going to say this once and only once: my life started when I met Paul. I have no intention of pretending that I want to even spend one night without him by my side. Everybody knows I’ve been living here with him. Why should I spend tonight alone?”

The New Spring Line

Mon, 26 Nov 2018 00:00:00 +0000

The characters and situations in this story are a work of fiction. Permission to use the characters in this story has been given by their original creator, Andy Latex as noted in his blog Smooth Slick N Shiny. This story is meant as an ‘alternate reality’ of his fictional universe.

continued from part 11

Part 12

Blackness! Horrible, horrible blackness!. The white noise. Unrelenting. Never stopping. Can’t move a muscle. Can’t even speak! It has gone on for how long? Days? Weeks?

A Collar for Puppy

Sun, 02 Apr 2017 00:00:00 +0000

My nervousness reached a new peak as I waited in the park shelter. The late summer’s day provided a perfect day but I was sweating. The park we had decided on was perfect. My soon-to-be other half waits under the great tree, our guests seated and waiting for my appearance. As the music starts, I start down the aisle. My shoes sink into the deep lawn and a primal part of me wants to run. As my gaze darts around I see that smile. The one that never fails to make me weak at the knees. That smile that I live for. I surrendered myself to that smile, that powerful personality long ago. I focus on that smile, raise my head and manage to make it to the end of the aisle. Today we make things official by making our bond public.

Packaged Bird

Mon, 21 Dec 2015 00:00:00 +0000

story continued from part one

Part 2: In the Trunk

My life seemed to be changing fast; I was now seeing Gino on a regular basis, our romantic liaisons usually resulting in my body being tightly bound in some way or other, either the old classic spread-eagle on the bed; or hogtied, tightly trussed up and wriggling while he watched sport on television. I insisting that I would never watch a game even if he bound and gagged me, a challenge which he greatly accepted and the rope flew around my body, leaving a trussed up package on the floor, the gag in place to stop any complaints, not that there any from me now I was tightly bound.

Coven 3

Thu, 30 Oct 2014 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from Coven 2)

Cast of Characters

Lulu – Blonde, full-figured, a paid sacrificial-victim of cult Anne-Marie – Witch-leader, coven organizer, roommate Jo-Anne – Assistant coven-leader, witch, devil-worshipper Bob and Dick – Cult gay couple, piercing-suspension experts Freddy and Harry – Cult medical men, bleeding-wound staunchers Marge - confused teenage motel-keeper’s daughter Sam and Alexis - rich, cruel, cult’s only married-couple Shrouded Coven pacing-chanting members, a “Leaping Lures” [fishing-cabin motel] desk-clerk – all small-part players

A Bride for Goth

Thu, 09 Jan 2014 00:00:00 +0000

This was a good time for Lanita, a young girl of sixteen summers, for she had been chosen as a special bride for Goth.

Goth was reputed to be the most handsome and strongest man in the whole nation.

Nobody in her Tribe had ever met or seen him, apart from the ruling Elders.

Every month a young girl was selected from the surrounding Tribes to be given to Goth as payment for his protection, but once a year, a maiden was chosen to be Goth’s Bride.

Slaviversary 4: Little Boy's Random Memories Pt 2

Wed, 28 Aug 2013 00:00:00 +0000

(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.

Melanie's Mystery

Sat, 14 Jul 2012 00:00:00 +0000

Melanie Richards was a serious student… of bondage stories. Spending hours evey month reading on-line tales of damsels-in-distress, girls getting themselves into trouble and she’d always wished for something to actually happen to her, rather than just reading made-up tales. A talented artist Melanie had started producing sketches from the stories she’d read and her boyfriend William, who worked as a self-employed craftsman treasured each one. Getting rock hard seeing images of women tied up and helpless. Though he and Mel did this for real he never felt brave enough to really make her bondage inescapable, not wanting her to get hurt or marked from cords and ropes. So when Melanie showed him a story of Melissa on Gromets site, being trapped inside her statue it was something that he thought could be made possible. Getting hold of wood wasn’t a problem. His father had been pleading with him to take down an old oak tree from the garden for at least a year now. The fact it was so huge had been the problem, mainly because of the cost. No way could an amateur and a few mates have attempted the task. The trunk must have been at least three feet in diameter and going up thirty feet before it started to split into different branches, the tree itself reached over a hundred feet high and was an impressive sight. A smallish win on the lottery had finally enabled Bill, as he preferred to be called to get it brought down in stages. But the crucial thing was that main trunk. Now cut into seven feet lengths and Melanie, having seen them one afternoon had quietly asked if Bill could make a statue, ‘like the one in Melissa’s story’ out of one. Young Mr Kane had grinned and agreed, getting Trevor, his mate to transport two of the lengths to the workshop attached to their home. He actually said to his buddies they’d probably end up as firewood for dad’s woodburner but for the moment he’d do his best and duly started work. Firstly slicing each from top to bottom then gradually hollowing the halves out. This meant Melanie had to be ‘acurately’ measured and an enjoyable day was spent as he wrote things down like ‘nipple to…’ ‘neck diameter’ and suchlike. She’d done a couple of sketches to show what was required and Bill used a lot of his free time out there doing her bidding. He actually made two, one exact like Melissa’s with the arms by the side, but the second had been his idea, with the limbs crossed behind the back. Each had been completed from inside and Melanie had spent a few minutes closed up in each, though sadly there hadn’t been any dildo or gag to finish the effect off. She didn’t complain as he’d worked so hard on these for her benefit, all he’d had to do now was carve the actual figure from the outside. While waiting for him to do the carving Melanie set up a page on Wiki, devoted to ‘The Goddess Bondeeja’ A totally fake site with sketches she’d done of the statues Bill was making and tales of who ‘Bondeeja’ was. It was a bit of micky-taking of Egyptian heritage and history. The country relied on it for tourism but she thought it unlikely anybody would take her page seriously. As Wiki’s reputation for accuracy was the butt of much humour the pair had thought little about it. They were however quite surprised at how many visits their page had. Melanie hadn’t wanted any comment left so didn’t include a ‘contact us’ link at the bottom. Weeks’ later Melanie smiled as Bill led her into his workroom after their dinner, having told the girl that her figure had been finished. The lassie delighted to see the newly polished statue in the corner as he’d promised. It looked like the second one she’d tested. Arms behind the back, rather than his first effort so she knew what was coming next. “Wow, it looks amazing” she gushed, pleased that somehow he’d made her statue hips a little narrower than they actually were. “Ready then?” he asked and she undressed, stepping out of her slinky red number, shivering in the frigid air conditioning in here, then shedding her underwear too. Coming over to see her ‘home’ for the next hour or so. After a long kiss she turned away and allowed Bill to help her into the bodysuit. This made of industrial thickness latex and despite the amount of talc used it still took a long time to get Melanie all zipped up. Her hands were eased into gloves but she was surprised when he balled her fingers up then secured them with fasteners she didn’t know about. “Cannot have you knocking to get out,” he grinned and she smiled, waving a fist in front of his face. It was pretty warm inside the suit and the lass would be glad once inside the statue. It’d been cool while testing it outside and naked, but here, in the chilled room she should be the same with the suit and bandages on. These took an age for Bill to apply and through it Melanie got more excited. At one point he had to dry her off with a towel as she’d dripped on the floor! “Should have stuck a certain something in there to block you up,” he’d chuckled, dabbing away. His sensitive touch almost made things worse. But finally she was a glorious white-wrapped mummy, only the center part of her face was visible and she asked to see herself in the mirror before he did her eyes. Bill didn’t ask why she wanted both her nose and mouth left free. Normally he’d insist she be gagged but didn’t want to spoil this today, though he had read the story to see what had got her going, so made a couple of extras to surprise her. Bill came up with the last of the bandages, kissing Melanie before placing two pads over her slightly scared eyes, blocking her ears with plugs then wrapping her head under several layers like the rest of her body. She could barely move her jaw to accept a drink and Miss Richards hoped she’d be fine. Taking Melanie’s arms he guided her back, easing her into the statue, watching as she positioned both arms behind her with some difficulty into the slots. Sighing as her shoulders rubbed the top then slid underneath and she was in. Mel didn’t say how tight it actually was with the thickness of the suit and four layers of wrapping over the top. She thought it’d be amazing if Bill could get the front bit shut! “Yes, that’s great, you can love” she said to the nose tapped question, ‘was she ok for him to close it up’, smiling happily as they had another session with tongues. Another tap on her breasts and moments later a now shuddering Melanie felt the air flow change and the smell of polished wood getting stronger as the front came round. She gasped as the pressure suddenly arrived, forcing her breasts back into her body, the front bit for her face now gripping tight, even the wooden bits that held her legs apart were the same. In the story the gag would appear at any moment… so she squealed loudly when one slowly drove itself in over her eager tongue. ‘Next’s gonna be a…’ Melanie grunted as a huge dildo arrived, sliding gently into her thankfully wet zone and filling the lass totally. They both stopped at the same time and Mel was thrilled that he had added the extras, but slightly stunned at how tight this was. The thickness of the latex suit and bindings meant she was actually larger now than when testing it earlier. ‘Like I’ve put on weight’ she moaned into the gag. Two thumps on the sides made her jump and Melanie realised he’d finally got the latches across as the pressure increased slightly again. Not knowing how much difficulty it’d been for Bill to do it. He’d pushed those two protusions into the statue at face and lower areas and it made him grin. “No wonder she squealed! The minx.” Another bang, right on the carved nose was the signal that she was completed and he wheeled the statue into the corner, set the angled lighting on it and snapped a few photos for the collection. No way would any of their friends believe that the figure was actually occupied by a stunning brunette, helplessly mummified, wearing a thick latex suit below that and plugged in all bar one of her holes. Melanie was definitely a virgin at the rear and he’d respected her wish to remain so. Having shot the photos for the Wiki page he went off for a drink then returned, sitting in the armchair and watching his girl. Trying to see and hear if she was close to orgasm. She was actually unconscious, having an earth-moving series before he’d come back from the kitchen having cleaned and done the washing-up. Bill’s eyes drooped and he set his alarm for another half-hour, she wouldn’t mind two hours rather than what had been agreed! Dimming the lights and he was dozing very shortly. Coming to with the buzzing of the clock Bill grumbled at the headache thundering through his brain. He’d only had two drinks and surely it shouldn’t be that bad. It was eight PM and would take at least an hour to strip Melanie’s bindings off so he’d best get started. Arriving at the statue he reached for the side catches… and stopped. They were not there! Bill Kane frowned, then checked the other side in case he’d… but nothing there either. Just two wood blocks shaped exactly like the catches, but wrapping his fingers round each one soon proved fruitless. A close look and he could see the carve marks deep into the wood and knew that somehow there was a serious problem here. Getting a torch from the drawer he shone the beam up the nostrils, expecting to see Melanie’s nose… but it appeared to be empty. A shaking boyfriend grabbed a blunt screwdriver and inserted it. Slowly sliding it well beyond the normal length of the human nasal passages, then wiggled it about. “Oh my goodness!” he said, now slowly comprehending the impossible… Melanie had vanished.

Maid Of Honor

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 00:00:00 +0000

“Mom, shoo! We can handle things. That’s why they invented maids of honor.”

“He’s your ex.”

“And I’m gay. Who says I can’t have a maid of honor who’s a man?”

“Because, technically-”

“Mother, please go pester someone else.”

The door closed. Footsteps retreated down the hall.

“You know, this is a bit weird.”

“Babe, you don’t know weird.”

Dan gave her a quizzical look.

Marsha bent and pulled a box from under the bed, flipped off the lid. Pulled out a pair of white panties.

The Sacrifice

Sun, 15 Apr 2012 00:00:00 +0000

The shadow emerged from the dark underbrush. Cheryl yelped. It was a man, naked with a bizarre headdress - a wooden mask that covered most of his face and a mass of straw that hung down past his shoulders. He wasn’t totally naked. His penis was wrapped in some kind of vegetation. It stood straight out and bobbed obscenely as he approached.

Cheryl took a step back, then another. A third brought her up short as she bumped against a second man. He grabbed her.

Share the Joy

Sat, 25 Feb 2012 00:00:00 +0000

Through the wonders of their technology, the experiences of the bride and groom are actually beamed into the brains of the participants, so they ‘participate’ in the deflowering, yet they’re still in their own minds experiencing the group hug.

Ip Terla is the first to be called. She leaves the table, crosses to the door, pale yellow gown streaming behind as she walks. She is a vision - the physical ideal of my childhood dreams. That we should be thrust together after such a long absence, and under these circumstances …

The Sight

Sun, 27 Nov 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Med scratched the dry, parched ground. The plants were wilted and no amount of hand watering seemed to help. She looked up, used her sight. Rain! She looked deeper. It wasn’t just a passing shower, but a good, drenching rain and it was headed her way. Med smiled. It had been a long, dry month.

“Medin’la.”

Lost in sight, Med, startled, whirled.

“Oh! Uh, yes, yes, I’m Med’la”

“Medin, I am Torina’La.”

The Joys of Spring

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 00:00:00 +0000

Foreword

Many of the forums that deal with fetishes, in particular bondage, will invariably have asked the question: “When did you first get into bondage?”

The answers will usually contain tails of self-bondage and experimentation as teenagers, in some cases, early teens. But behind these explanations, the conversation will usually ask what gets you hot, or what was your first experience of bondage? The answer, for many people, tends to be film or literature that is not aimed at a bdsm audience. For me, it was horror movies and stories. Horror movies of the time, although having the usual slasher pics, also contained many images where the heroine was bound, ready for the hero to rescue. However, before this scene, you will always have a body count of heroines who did not escape the sawmill.

Sacrifice to the Netherworld

Sat, 22 Nov 2008 00:00:00 +0000

“Hurry it up already!” Cathy struggled through the bushes, cursing as the bottom of her trench coat was caught on some branches. “I’m going as fast as I can!” “Well go faster! And stop making so much noise!” Groaning as they emerged from the thickets, Cathy pondered how best to tell Ruth that she was going to pick what house they were going to egg come next year. The creepy mansion deep in the forest was just too much of a pain to get to. But at the moment silence was indeed golden, for if this was going to be pulled off successfully, then they were going to have to stay as quiet as possible. That, and keep a low profile among the foliage. “Remind me again why we’re wearing these?” She asked, pinching the rubber of her black bodysuit. “Stealth of course!” Ruth said as she recounted the eggs in her basket. “Camouflage…and besides, don’t you like wearing skin tight rubber?” “Well…” “Come on, admit it!” “Well, yes…but…” “Then why are you complaining!? Look at it this way…if we pull this off, I’ll be sure to tie you up myself when we get back to your place, then give you a massage. How does that sound?” The idea of a massage, especially when wearing rubber, sounded very nice indeed. “All right,” Cathy said with a sly smile. “But only if we pull this off.” Grinning, Ruth got low to the ground and started to creep across the lawn, but stopped. “Hey, where’s Nathan?” Cathy glanced back into the bushes. “No sign of him.” “Too bad…looks like he’ll miss the fun.” Together the two girlfriends snuck across the grounds of the mansion, moving close enough to strike. Halfway across the grass they each pulled out an egg, making sure to keep the bag wide open so they could grab more. They finally got close enough to striking range, impressing Cathy. Secretly, she had doubted that black rubber bodysuits and trench coats would act as suitable camouflage, but it seemed to have worked well enough so far. Maybe Ruth’s not as dumb as she seems. Still, best to remain wary. As the two inched forward ever so slightly, Ruth held up her hand. “Stay here. I’m going to sneak around a little bit that way.” Cathy nodded. “Wait until I give the signal, then we strike. After we empty the bags, we split and head back home. Got it?” “Yeah.” Grinning, Ruth slinked her way around the edge of the house, aiming for the very tip of the backyard, leaving Cathy by herself to watch Ruth’s progress. Glancing back towards the bushes, Cathy nervously looked for any sign of Nathan. It wasn’t like him to be late like this…had something gone wrong? Several possibilities came to mind…most likely he had lost his nerve and chickened out, gone home maybe, or even to the police. God, she hoped not. This was just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun…the last thing they all needed was to get caught up with the police. Ahead, Ruth was holding up one of her eggs, readying a throw. Realizing that it was best not to dawdle, Cathy pulled out an egg of her own, readying her aim and targeting the nearest window. But it was difficult to focus…something here didn’t seem right. Granted, what they were doing wasn’t exactly the right thing to do, but it was as if something was trying to warn her about a great danger they were walking right into. The next few seconds unexpectedly proved the warnings correct. Lights snapped on all around the house, illuminating the lawn and enveloping Cathy and Ruth in brilliantly powerful lights. Caught off guard, Cathy dropped her eggs, staggering backwards. She knew only two things. One, they had been seen, for she could hear shouts and yelling. Two, they had to run. Run as fast as their legs could carry them and get as far away from this place as possible. There would be no pranks tonight. Eyes temporarily blinded by the sudden blast of light, she staggered backwards, tripped and fell onto the wet grass. She immediately tried to stand, but her boots slipped. It took precious seconds to regain her footing, but by then she could hear people running towards her, yelling and screaming. As they closed in on her, Cathy had the horrible realization that they were completely and utterly screwed. She had no idea, no idea at all how right she was. *** It had happened surprisingly fast. Once captured on the lawn, a blindfold of some kind had been forced over Cathy’s eyes as metal slipped around her wrists, locking them together. She recognized the feeling quickly, realizing that they were handcuffs. But she had little time to think as she was dragged across the lawn and then inside the house. After that Cathy quickly lost track of what was happening, save hearing doors being opened and closed, and realizing that she was being dragged down many flights of steps…into the basement maybe? Her unseen captors eventually came to a stop. The handcuffs were undone, but Cathy didn’t try to fight, knowing that fighting would possibly make her captors hurt her. Best to go along, accepting what was going to happen. She was terrified, knowing that all this was going to lead to the police being called, spending the night in jail, then heading to several court hearings. But all she could do at the moment was try to avoid being hurt. Her hands were forced above her head after the trench coat was pulled off. Cathy shivered in embarrassment and humiliation, knowing that she must look ridiculous in her rubber bodysuit. But no words were spoken as thick metal was forced around each of her wrists, then locked into place, leaving her standing with arms dangling. And then the process was repeated for her feet, with thick metal locked around her ankles and bolting her feet to the floor. Then the blindfold was ripped off. Bright light assaulted her eyes, squinting them shut. Blinking rapidly, Cathy caught a glimpse of three people walking away, closing a door behind them, then locking it in place. When her vision came back completely, she looked around, trying to see where she was. To her surprise the room looked like a medieval dungeon with concrete walls, heavy wooden beams crossing the ceiling, straw covering the floor and even two torches stuck into the walls, providing just enough illumination for her to look up and see her wrists in thick ceramic shackles. A quick struggle revealed that they were sealed tight. No amount of struggling was going to get her out of them or the ones around her ankles. Looking around though, she saw another surprise. At first Cathy had feared that she was the only one confined in this dark tomb, but she had a fellow inmate. “Nathan!” Stirring in his shackles, Cathy and Ruth’s roommate Nathan opened his eyes and blinked, looked around. They went wide as he caught sight of her. “Cathy! They got you too?!” “Appears so.” She shook her shackles. “Where the hell are we?” “In the house?” “Besides that.” “I don’t know.” Nathan’s eyes were full of fright. “Call me dumb but it looks like these people are dungeon enthusiasts. Normally I’d call that a good thing…” “But not now.” Nathan nodded. “Are you hurt?” “Uh…no.” “That’s good. No injuries?” “No.” Nathan whined. “Stay calm.” Cathy tried to think of something to say, anything to keep both of them occupied and their minds off their situation. “What happened to you?” “Me? I was heading around the other side of the house when I was ambushed. Three guys in black jumped me. Next thing I knew I was locked up in here. And then here you come, all dressed up and chained too.” “Guys in black?” “Yeah, like Seal guys or something. It was like they were waiting for me or something.” Cathy tried to think about what that meant, but she couldn’t focus on both that and the realization that a large bulge was growing near the crotch of Nathan’s bodysuit, that he was eying her over (while trying to hide it at the same time). Normally such attention would be flattering, but now was not the time for it. “So…what do we do now?” Nathan asked. “I guess all we can do is wait.” She said. “See what happens.” “You don’t think they’re going to…torture us do you?” “I don’t know.” It was a grim idea, being that they were locked in a dungeon and all, but then again this could all be just for show. Or perhaps the owners of this house were medieval enthusiasts. Perhaps a bit obsessed, but still… The two of them stood there for a few minutes in silence, waiting for whatever was coming their way. A glance every now and then showed Nathan’s bulge still in place. “Never should have done this…” Nathan muttered. “Whole thing was so stupid! I swear, if I ever get out of here alive I’m never going to egg someone’s house ever again!” “It was supposed to be for fun.” Cathy assured him. “None of us wanted this to happen.” “Damn right! I don’t want to be chained up like this!” “I thought you liked being tied up.” That made Nathan blush. “Well…normally yes but…” “It’s nothing. Just forget about it.” “Look, if this is about the bulge I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You just look so…” “No, it’s not about that. But can I ask you something?” Still embaressed from what he had said, Nathan nodded. “I guess so.” “Why were you on the other side of the house?” It hadn’t been until a moment ago that Cathy realized that something about Nathan’s story seemed suspicious. “Uhh, Ruth told me to sneak up on that side. Why?” Cathy’s eyes bulged. Nathan being told to sneak up on the other side? Ruth had specifically told Cathy that they were all going to sneak up together as a group, not split up. She had another feeling in her gut, telling her that something was very, very wrong. As if in response to her questioning, the door to the dungeon opened with a loud creak. Both of the dungeon’s occupants were quite surprised to see who walked in. “Ruth!” Nathan twisted in his shackles. “Thank God! Get us out of here!” Ruth, still dressed in her bodysuit and trench coat, eyed the two, looking them over. There was a look on her face that Cathy didn’t recognize, something cold and heartless. As if confirming her fears, Ruth walked up to Nathan, stroked his chin. “Sorry Nathan.” She said sympathetically. “But I’m afraid that’s just not possible.” For a moment Nathan stared at her, confused as to what she was saying. “W…what are you talking about?!” “You were caught about to egg this mansion. And the owners are very upset about that. They don’t like being egged." “Then tell them I’m sorry!” Nathan was starting to panic, sweat pouring off his forehead. “I’m sorry and I won’t do it again, I swear!” Ruth grinned. “Oh, I’m sure they have no doubt about that. But you and Cathy have to be punished for what you did.” “But we didn’t do anything!” “But the intent was there. You had it all planned out and were planning to egg this house.” “But you were going to do it too!” She grinned. “Well yes, but the owners of this house and I have a certain, how do you say it?…understanding.” Nathan didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. Cathy on the other hand, was starting to realize what was going on, as well as what had been going on behind the scenes. “You set us up.” She said in disbelief. “You set us up." Ruth walked over, started to stroke Cathy’s chin. “Oh dear sweet Cathy, you have no idea.” She glanced at Cathy’s breasts. “You are very attractive you know. Especially in rubber…he’s going to just love you.” “He?” “My employer. But before he gets to you…” She pressed a finger to Cathy’s lips. “I’m going to do you a favor. Just something between the two of us. He wouldn’t want it, but I’ll forget about him just this once.” Reaching up, she took the zipper of Cathy’s suit and pulled it down, revealing the soft body beneath it until she revealed Cathy’s moist crotch. Cathy realized what was going to happen just as Ruth stuck her fingers inside Cathy and started to stroke. Caught off guard, Cathy struggled, recoiled at this unwelcome intrusion, no matter how sensual it might be. She fought to pull away, but the shackles fiendishly held her in place. All she could do was thrash her body back and forth a few inches, which, ironically, made Ruth’s wiggling more intense. Despite his own fear, Nathan watched the scene before him. Not surprisingly, the bulge in his crotch grew even bigger. Cathy fought as hard as she could against the intrusion, but while her mind was dead set against it, her body was surrendering to the slowly increasing feelings of pleasure washing over it. Her body began to shake and twitch uncontrollably, muscles tightening as the climax approached, even as Cathy helplessly tried to stop it, as her mind began to waver in whether to give in or not. But in the end, the pleasure was too much. Cathy shrieked, yanking against her shackles for all she was worth, muscles contracting as she orgasmed. For a brief moment she was utterly still, teeth clenched and eyes shut, pulling against the shackles…and then the moment passed. Her body went limp, legs giving out beneath her. Normally the pain of being held up only by steel shackles would have forced her to stand, but the haze of pleasure shoved the pain aside. “Enjoy it.” Ruth said with a reassuring smile. “Might be the last one you’ll have for a very long time.” It was only by chance that Ruth was distracted by Nathan, now shaking involuntarily, the bulge in his suit bigger then ever. She walked over, said nothing as she looked him over. Then after a few seconds of consideration, she shrugged, reached out and began to squeeze the rubber. Already turned on, it only took ten seconds to bring the second captive to orgasm as well. “Even though I’m not attracted to men,” she said to Nathan as he limply hung in his chains. “You always were kinda cute.” He glanced at her, breathing deeply as sweat pouring off his head. Ruth could tell that he had enjoyed it much more then Cathy had. It would have been fun to play with them for a while longer, but that wouldn’t be happening tonight. “Hope you both enjoyed the show.” She snapped her fingers. “But I’m afraid the time for fun and games is over.” Four men walked into the room, curiously dressed as ancient Egyptians. Cathy looked at them, still recovering her strength. The fog of pleasure and drowsiness was fading, and with it went the emotional numbness, once again allowing her fear to rise. “Cathy?” Nathan said fearfully as two of the men walked up to him. “Cathy?!” “Don’t fight Nathan.” Cathy warned him, fearing that the men would hurt them if they resisted. They certainly looked capable enough. “Don’t try to fight them.” “You would do well to listen to her.” Ruth said as the two were unchained, only to have their ankles and wrists tied with thick rope. “She speaks the truth.” Bound once again, the two captives were marched out of the dungeon and into the basement of the mansion, a sight that few indeed had been privileged to see. Candles shone in elegant chandeliers, softly illuminating the marble stonework that lined the walls and the soft carpet underfoot. It had the feeling of a temple of some kind, complete with two large poles straddling both the floor and the ceiling. Marched forward, Cathy struggled to keep from tripping, unable to use her hands to catch herself. Her guards were utterly silent as they came to a stop before a small group of people standing with their backs towards the captives. Judging by their elegant robes and outfits, Cathy guessed that these were either the owners of the house or some kind of religious figures. But why the Egyptian outfits? Ruth walked up beside them, her rubber suit glistening in the candlelight. “You summoned us master?” The tallest of the group turned, revealing a bald man in his early fifties, dressed in soft white robes. He said nothing, but his eyes moved over Cathy, taking her in. She slunk slightly under the sight. There was something about his gaze that chilled her to the bone. “You have done well Ruth.” The man said, his voice deep and rich with age. “She will serve us well.” Cathy managed to work up enough nerve to speak. “Who are you? The owner of this place?” “Yes. My name is Adam, and this is wife, Anna.” The woman standing next to him turned around, an old book held in her hands. “At least, that is the name that we are known by in this age.” Leaning over, the man whispered something into the ears of what Cathy guessed to be a guard, who nodded and walked off. “You were thinking of egging my house, were you not?” “Yes. We were.” Cathy figured that it was best to be honest. Lying while bound and helpless did not seem to be a wise idea. The man smiled. “You are honest, a rare trait indeed. You young ones always lie to save your own skins. It’s in your blood. You are rare indeed…special.” He walked up, smiling, rubbing his finger over her chest, just above her breasts. “And fate has bestowed upon you great beauty.” “What are you going to do to us?” “We’re not going to call the police, if that’s what you’re implying. Not that they could help you anyway.” “What do you mean?” Cathy was thinking fast, trying to make sense of what he had said, already fearing the worst. “You were planning to commit a crime and although you have acknowledged and confessed your guilt, punishment is still needed. Because of your crimes, you will be punished in a most special way indeed.” “May I remind you that what you’re doing could be considered kidnapping?” Cathy coolly informed him, trying to sound more confident then she felt. This whole situation was getting more and more unnerving with each second that passed. The man smiled. “True…but who would miss a criminal? From all that have seen throughout the years, they are rarely missed. You are starting to realize that something is happening, no?” Cathy just looked at him. “It is something beyond anything you could possibly understand.” He stroked Cathy’s chin, ignoring her defiant look. “Do you see that book my wife is holding?” Cathy managed to look away from the man for a few moments, saw the book. The woman was thumbing through the pages. “Yeah.” “That is a very rare book…the only one of it’s kind in the world. No archaeologists know of it, nor do any museums. It is the original Egyptian Book of the Dead.” Cathy’s eyes snapped wide open in surprise. “You’re kidding.” “I do not ‘kid’.” Walking over, he slowly ran his hands over the worn leather cover in reverence. “This was written thousands of years ago by some of the wisest, most knowledgeable priests of the day, containing secrets about life and death, secrets that span time and space itself. But it also contains information that was deemed too dangerous to pass along to future generations. So an attempt was made to destroy the book, but one lone priest managed to steal it away.” The book was opened, its pages flipped. “Spells, sorcery, alchemy, all lie within these pages. With this book, one can obtain immortality…or even…” A fearsome smile came across the man’s lips. “…talk to a god.” Cathy and Nathan gulped, even as the man, his wife, and Ruth lit up with delighted smiles. In particular, Cathy couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Your mind could not possibly understand the secrets of the book, nor it’s implications for mankind. All you need to know is that there is one enchantment, one spell that has been used for thousands of years, usable only once every century during the late months when the moon is at it’s highest and the darkest energies swarm the earth. Only then can the pathway be opened.” The book was softly closed. “But you do not concern yourself with that. Rather, you should prepare yourself for the trial to come.” Cathy gulped, heart racing. “Trial?” The man walked over to her. “It is a trial that will push you beyond the limits of pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy, anguish, despair, joy and happiness…you will experience all of them beyond what humans can ever hope to feel.” Cathy instinctively struggled, tried to move away. But the guards flanking her grabbed and held on, forcing her still. “Hey, leave her alone!” Nathan shouted. The man glanced over at him curiously, as if noticing him for the first time. “Hmm… normally males are not accepted. But I suppose you’ll do.” There was a loud creak near the back of the room as a pair of thick wooden doors were opened. Both Nathan and Cathy nervously looked over as attendants and guards walked into the room, the attendants carrying boxes upon boxes filled with something that the two couldn’t see. They kept coming, one after another, a seemingly endless tide. “Who are they?!” Nathan whispered to Cathy. “I don’t know.” But after a few moments the attendants began to carry in something new. Large white wrapped forms, between five and six feet long, oval shaped. As they were brought in, Cathy gasped as they were laid on the ground, for they were moving. Or more precisely, wiggling, like caterpillars struggling to escape from cocoons. She realized with horror that there were people inside those white forms. “People! There are people in there!” She turned to their captor. “What have you done to them?!” “They are those chosen for the ceremony.” The man said calmly. “The latest sacrifices. All intruders like yourselves…young ones who thought it would be fun to play pranks on us, the recluses who live deep in the woods. But they have learned the price of their folly, and they will be punished” He smiled at Cathy. “And now, you and your friend will join them.” A shriek got Cathy’s attention. Nathan was being grabbed by four guards, one for each limb, who then forced him towards a pair of shackles dangling from the ceiling and locked his wrists in them. “CATHY! HELP!” “Stop it!” Cathy shouted, mind swirling with thoughts of horrible tortures being forced upon him. “Leave him alone!” “Why do you care for him?” “He’s my friend!” Cathy said. “Please, just leave him alone!” But the man was ignoring her now. He walked over to Nathan, started whispering something into his ears as some of the attendants opened their boxes and pulled out roll after roll of white bandages. After about thirty seconds he turned and walked away. Nathan’s face had turned white, eyes blank in fear. He was no longer shouting, only looking toward Cathy, looking at her straight in the eyes, as if begging her to help him. He didn’t even resist as the attendants opened the boxes and began to wrap bandages around his ankles. For the next half hour Cathy watched helplessly as Nathan was mummified, his body wrapped up in tight white bandages. It was a slow process, but the guards and attendants did not pause as Nathan’s limbs were wrapped from his ankles up to his neck, then around his arms and back down again, weaving him into a tight cocoon. Nathan didn’t struggle or resist as he dangled from the ceiling, though he was still terrified as his body was tightly wound and wrapped up, each additional layer making it harder and harder to move. During the entire time he stared at Cathy, silent and pleading. Cathy watched, horrified, as his wrapped legs were placed together, then wrapped together in more bandages. They kept moving up and up, wrapping him tighter and tighter, starting to go around his head as well. His manacles were released and Nathan was lowered onto the floor, where his arms were forced to his sides and tied there, then wrapped to his body, rendering him utterly helpless. Then more and more layers were applied, until Nathan was completely mummified, bound in over fifteen layers of white bandages and sealed into his cocoon just like the other helpless mummies lying on the floor. They were just starting to cover his terrified face when the man held his hand out. “Leave his face uncovered. Prepare to wrap the woman.” Cathy’s insides turned to ice at realizing that she was next. The attendants left Nathan on the floor as they began to pull out more fresh wrappings, preparing to begin their next mummification. “It is now your turn.” The man said as Cathy watched the preparations before her, unable to take her eyes away. “And I will tell you what I told him. Do not struggle and do not resist, for if you do, I will force you to watch as your friend’s tongue is cut out of his mouth and eyes are gouged from their sockets.” For a second Cathy was struck with horror. That was why Nathan’s face were still uncovered, allowing her to see him. Then that horror turned to rage. “You monster…” she hissed. “You will not escape the fate chosen for you, but I am being generous in this offer. You can choose to cooperate, or you can resist and force your friend to suffer pain and agony without end. It is your choice.” Nathan was staring at Cathy as she glared at their captor. But her rage could not cover the fact that resisting would only bring Nathan unbearable agony…he had been told the same thing and gone through the process of mummification, choosing not to resist and sparing Cathy the same fate. She couldn’t let him suffer like that. The attendants walked up, bandages held at the ready. “Lock her up.” Cathy winched, but did not fight as the ropes were cut from her arms, allowing the attendants to force them into the shackles dangling from the ceiling. Nor did she fight as her clothes were cut from her body, leaving her dangling naked and completely helpless. She was starting to cry, utterly humiliated and knowing that there was nothing she could do. The man on the other hand, was smiling ear to ear, obviously pleased at seeing her so helpless and vulnerable…innocence held captive by a beast. “Wrap her.” The attendants walked up, knelt near her feet. It took a lot for Cathy to keep from kicking them in the face as they tied the first bandages around her ankles and began to wind them around her naked skin. Nathan was still watching, his eyes focused on her in horror and sadness. He knew what it was like to be mummified, and now he could only watch helplessly as Cathy endured the same fate. The procedure was almost exactly like Nathan’s. It wasn’t hurried, for the attendants knew exactly what they were doing. They didn’t need to rush. For close to an hour they wrapped Cathy’s body, winding the bandages around her legs, torso, arms, neck and breasts, covering her soft skin. But the embalmers ignored Cathy herself, as if they were wrapping a mamequin and not a living, breathing human being. Even when they forced her crotch open and stuffed it with bandages, they worked professionally, not allowing their emotions to get in the way. But it was not the same for Cathy. It was taking all she had to not fight and struggle, to scream and kick and try to escape her fate. Even as much as she wanted to escape, she couldn’t stomach the thought of Nathan suffering because of her, and it was that which kept her still and allowed the attendants to mummify her alive. But she wasn’t strong enough to stop herself from crying, sobbing as tears dripped from her terrified eyes. “There, there my dear. Do not despair.” The man told her. “You are being given a great honor, one to be enjoyed and treasured. You will not only bring y…” “Dearest…” Looking over, the man saw his wife going through the book of the dead. “I require your assistance with the spell.” “Of course.” Leaving Cathy, the man walked over to his wife to assist in whatever they were doing, leaving Cathy by herself. Well…not exactly. Someone else was taking a great interest in her. “You look so…yummy…” Ruth whispered as she walked up. “All rolled up and wrapped into a nice steamy burrito…If they let me, maybe I’ll screw you once they’re done.” Keeping silent to save Nathan, Cathy could do. But to remain silent in the face of this woman…that was unacceptable. “Ruth, you sniveling bitch…how much are they paying you to do this?!” Her terror and grief were now giving way to anger and hate. “Don’t be mad honey. It’s my job to lure the young and healthy to my employers. You two are just the latest…though I am surprised they accepted Nathan. I thought I was going to keep him for sure. But no biggie. I can always get another man.” She giggled as she reached out and ran her fingers over Cathy’s wrapped crotch. “A well wrapped man that is.” “Why?” Cathy’s brief stint of hate had been overcome by fear once more, leaving her voice quiet and despairing. “Why in heavens name are you doing this? Is what they’re offering worth more then the friendship we had? All those years in college and the universities? Moving out on our own? Living together?” Ruth went silent for a moment. Then she quietly shook her head. “I do admit…of all the young ones I’ve come across over the years, I did start to have feelings for you. Like the owner of a beloved pet. All the games, the sex…” She reached up, ran her fingers over the bandages covering Cathy’s breasts. “…but that’s where I made my mistake. I’m not supposed to become attached to my targets. Only makes the job more difficult.” She pulled her finger away. “So that’s when I knew I had to bring you in, before I became too attached.” Walking backwards, Ruth watched the attendants bring Cathy’s legs side by side, then wrapped them together. Cathy could only watch, staring at the woman she had once thought as a friend…as a lover. But now she realized the folly of that mistake, seeing now that she was little more then a cobra in the guise of beauty. The shackles were unlocked and her body was lowered to the floor. Sitting her up, the embalmers took Cathy’s arms and forced them to her sides. Cathy kept her eyes on Ruth, crying as her bandaged arms were wrapped tightly in place, sealing them there forever. And with her entire body wrapped, save her head, she knew there was only one last step. “Wait.” The bandages halted just inches from Cathy’s head. She looked over, saw Ruth holding out her hand. For a moment Cathy’s heart raced at the thought of Ruth having a last minute change of heart. Ruth wordlessly walked over, knelt next to the mummified body of her former friend. There was something in her eyes, a longing that had been repressed. Cathy looked back, silently pleading for release, for help, for anything to get them out of here. Ruth reached down and took Cathy in her arms, bringing her close to her own body, hugging her. Cathy dared to let herself hope that despite her set up, the realization that their friendship had been a farce, despite all the pain, Ruth would come to her senses, see the insanity in all this. It was possible, so very possible. It was in her eyes. Ruth wanted to believe it too. She rubbed her hands over the bandages, stroking Cathy. It was so sensual, so familiar and comforting that Cathy’s tense body began to relax, going limp as it felt Ruth’s warmth …wrapped and bound, held close against a warm body. It was going to happen…Ruth was going to smile and say that this was all a joke, a huge prank she had pulled. Any minute now she would smile and cut these bandages away…or pick her up and take her home, plop her in bed and hold her all night long, and the two of them (well, three) would get a good laugh about this whole thing. A desperate hope, but Cathy let herself hope. She wanted so badly to wrap her arms around Ruth and hold her, to encourage her. Ruth slowly leaned over, eyes closed. Slowly, oh so slowly, she kissed Cathy, her lips warm and moist. Cathy closed her eyes too, returning the kiss, relishing in the moist warmth and softness… …any second now. Any second now and freedom would come… “I wanted you to know that I do feel for you.” Ruth whispered into Cathy’s ear. “And that I did enjoy the time we had together.” Cathy listened…but her hope began to die. Slowly, Ruth laid Cathy back onto the floor. “But it’s just not meant to be.” Cathy stared up at her…as her hope and her heart died. She cried as the attendants moved in once more, began to wrap her head up. She kept crying as bandages were wound under her mouth, over her nose, around her skull, tighter and tighter until only her eyes were uncovered. The attendants continued to wrap her body for another half hour, sealing her into layer after layer of wrappings until she could barely breathe and even wiggling her toes became all but impossible. What little she could see of her own cocoon was nothing but endless white enclosing her body, sealing her in permanently. She was no longer human now, merely an object. Then with another layer added to her head, Cathy’s mummification was complete. Helpless, Cathy could do nothing but cry as she was lifted off the floor and propped on her feet, unseen hands holding her upright. She was helpless to steady herself as the man, the leader of all this insanity walked over, looking Cathy’s mummy over, nodding in approval. “This is most rare indeed.” He said. “You and your friend…” Behind Cathy, Nathan was being propped up as well. “…you have not struggled and have accepted your fate. In all the centuries that I have lived through, I have never seen this happen. Two souls selflessly giving of themselves to save the other. Everyone who has come before you, including them,” the man indicated the other mummies, “has fought, thinking only of themselves. They suffered the fate I promised for either of you would you have struggled. You are indeed pure souls.” Behind the man, his wife called out to him. “My dear, we are ready to begin.” “Very well.” Turning back to Cathy, he nodded to the attendants. “Because the two of you were selfless, you shall be wrapped together.” Nathan was carried over and propped on his feet behind Cathy. The two were forced back to back, at which point the embalmers wound even more bandages around the two, wrapping them together as one. Cathy could barely feel Nathan behind her as she was bound to him. But at this point she was numb, not really caring anymore. All her tears of fear and despair had been shed. There was nothing left. “Uhh…Cathy?” Cathy sniffed. “Yes?” Nathan stammered, trying to the get the words out. “In case I never get the chance, I just wanted to say I…I…I love you.” Despite all that she had felt, Cathy did manage a smile. “Really?” “Yeah. Ever since you hired me, I’ve been head over heels for you. I just never told you because you were in love with Ruth.” Cathy nodded, not really caring about Ruth anymore. “I always did find you to be really cute. And if it matters, I thought you were a really good housecleaner.” Nathan managed a fleeting, despairing laugh. “Thanks. And if it matters, thanks for letting me get in on all those bandage games of yours.” He had more to say, but the attendants took that moment to stuff several bandages into his mouth, then wrapping it shut. “Nathan! No!” Cathy had so much more to say, but it was now impossible. She started to cry again, despairing at how unfair it was, about the fate that the two of them would suffer through together, whatever it would be. One of the attendants in front of Cathy took three bandages and began to wad them up. Fingers moved to pinch her nostrils shut, but Cathy, wrapped head to toe and too worn out to resist any longer, simply opened her mouth. The attendant stuffed the bandages into her mouth, filling it. Cathy kept crying as bandages were wound under her mouth and over her skull, forcing her jaw shut. She tried to call out, but her tongue wouldn’t move. More bandages went over her mouth, slowly over her face until only her eyes were uncovered, sealing her in even further. When five layers of wrappings had gone around the two, Cathy and Nathan were then tied to a post in the center of the room, giving them a good vantage point of the center of the room. While the two had been wrapped, more candles had been lit, especially at the base of the poles. She knew it was hopeless, but Cathy tried to struggle. She couldn’t even manage an inch of movement. Behind her, Nathan tried the same, failed as well. He barely managed to turn his head and look at Cathy, as if trying to say something encouraging. But any words he had were sealed inside his mouth, hopelessly mummified by his wrappings. He so wanted to talk to her, to tell her everything, but would never get the chance. Both he and Cathy knew it, realized they would never speak again. That fact made both of them cry. In the center of the room, the man and his wife were now dressing themselves in elegant robes of fine silk and cotton, as well as adorning their heads in crowns of gold, silver, and rubies, all expertly crafted…and from the looks of them, incredibly ancient. When dressed, they walked towards the pole, holding the Book of the Dead wide open. The attendants were dragging the mummies of the other people towards the poles, all wiggling helplessly. Cathy could just barely make out the muffled screams of terror coming from behind the bandages. But strangely, no attendants came for Nathan and her. Near the poles in the center of the room, the man and woman began to speak, their voices high and excited. With her ears covered, Cathy had a hard time hearing them, but managed to make out a few words. From what she could figure, they were speaking ancient Egyptian, making it extremely difficult for her to understand what they were saying. All Cathy made out was the word ‘Osiris’, but nothing else. They talked for nearly ten minutes before stopping. For a few moments, nothing happened. The candles began to flicker. Watching the poles, Cathy saw something appear at the base, what appeared to be a small green dot. Tiny at first, but it soon began to grow, getting bigger and bigger with each passing second, turning into what appeared to be, crazily enough, a portal of some kind. What the hell?! It wasn’t possible…it just couldn’t be possible! Here she was, mummified alive and held captive in the basement of a lunatic couple’s mansion and here was what appeared to be an interdimensional portal. Cathy had read about them in her university, but that was over ten years ago. She couldn’t remember anything about them…like if they were good or bad. The portal eventually came to a stop when it was twelve feet in diameter. A strong wind filled the room, whipping past Cathy’s eyes. It was warm, humid air, completely out of place for the basement of a mansion. But that was nothing compared to the bizarre sounds she heard coming from that portal…mumbled babbling of tongues, wind howling, and what sounded like moans. This cannot be fucking happening! But it was. And from the look on the faces of the man and his wife, this was exactly what they wanted. Turning, they nodded to the attendants, who once again began to drag the mummies towards the pillars…only now it was horribly obvious what was going to happen. When each attendant got to within ten feet of the portal, they would reach down and roll their mummy forward. At first, it would only go a foot or so. But then the wind would suddenly pick up and the mummy was dragged towards the portal, inevitably squirming and struggling. But in each case it was always the same. The mummy would reach the portal, then teeter on the edge for just a second…and then fall in, vanishing from sight. The sight was horrifying, but Cathy couldn’t tear herself away from it. One by one, each mummy was rolled over, and then would fell into the portal, vanished as if gobbled up by an enormous predator. The whole process went quickly, taking no more then ten minutes for all twenty mummies. The faces of the man and his wife were blissful, utterly content. From the side, Ruth was watching the scene with a look of incredible lust, her hands frantically rubbing the crotch of her rubber bodysuit. Eventually, every mummy was gone, leaving just Cathy and Nathan. She had known that this moment would come, had even started to resign herself to it, but as the attendants cut her and Nathan down, Cathy struggled, tried to fight the fate chosen for her. But the attendants had done their job too well. She was forced into stillness, utterly helpless under her mummification. Nathan too was struggling, but like herself, he couldn’t escape. They were taken towards the portal. The man and woman paid them no heed, eyes closed in that serene look. Ruth saw them, but her tenderness was gone. There was a cold, hard look in her eyes as she watched them both, rubbing even faster. Cathy could only stare at her with desperate pleading. But she knew it was hopeless. Nothing could save them now. The attendants lay the two on the ground, gave a gentle push. It was almost comical how the two rolled, even as Cathy continued to struggle to gain even a single inch of movement, fighting against the portal. But it was hopeless, for an invisible force took hold of them both, began to drag them towards the portal. She couldn’t help it. Cathy began to scream. She screamed louder and louder and louder into her gag, yet was silent as she and Nathan rolled helplessly towards the portal. They reached it, stopped at the very edge, teetering. Nathan couldn’t see what was going on, but Cathy could. She stared down into the portal, saw a swirling whirlpool of energy that went down into infinity. The bottom, if there was one, was darkness and impossible to make out. There was no sign of the other mummies who had been pulled inside only minutes earlier. Warm, humid air was being pulled into the portal like water forced into a drain. It was impossible to fight it. But she tried. They both tried, struggling for all they were worth. But in the end there was no fighting the invisible force. In the final seconds, Cathy’s life flashed before her eyes. It was tragically short. Not even thirty and here she was, facing death…or possibly something worse. And there was nothing in her life’s experience that prepared her for this, to give her the strength to face the unknown. Absolutely nothing to give her the courage she so desperately wanted or needed. No… …there was one thing. She turned and looked at the man wrapped to her back. He too, was looking at her. That gave her a small measure of comfort. No matter what horrors, agonies, or bliss she and Nathan would find inside the portal…at least they would go together. The invisible force took hold of them both and yanked them into the portal. The basement, the couple, and Ruth quickly vanished as Cathy and Nathan plunged into the vortex, falling down, down, down into darkness, helpless as they plunged downwards. They continued to fall until they were little more then faint pinpricks of light against the dark. And then… Nothing.

Virtual Bondage 2 Egyptian Queen

Sun, 01 Apr 2007 00:00:00 +0000

Suggested prerequisite: Virtual Bondage Part One

Chapter two: “Egyptian Queen”

Cindy did not feel like herself. Something was wrong but she did not know what it was. It was dark first of all, and completely silent. What is going on? Secondly she noticed the temperature. She could feel her body and the air felt arid and dry. The air temperature had to be close to 100 degrees. She could only think of maybe two times in her 25 years that it had even gotten close to 100 in rural Ohio. And, when it did it was not dry and arid. Usually wet and thunderstorms.

A Final Farewell

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000

Entry from the S(A)X leather Bondage Story competition 2005

Sometimes it just happens

Passions cool

Personalities drift

Relationships change

Sometimes people just stop loving someone, even when the other still loves them

So it was with us

I still loved Master. But he no longer loved me.

Cared for me, yes.

Looked after me still, yes.

But the desire, the interest in me was gone. He never had to say it, but it was there, after nearly 10 years this slave no longer could command his interest.

Final Farewell

Sat, 03 Dec 2005 00:00:00 +0000

Sometimes it just happens. Passions cool. Personalities drift. Relationships change. Sometimes people just stop loving someone, even when the other still loves them. So it was with us. I still loved Master. But he no longer loved me. Cared for me, yes.

Looked after me still, yes. But the desire, the interest in me was gone. He never had to say it, but it was there, after nearly 10 years this slave no longer could command his interest. Used up. Discarded. And I knew that I could do nothing to change that fact, or even challenge it. After all I was his slave, and if he was no longer needing my submission, then that was his right. But because he still cared for me, and because he knew me so well, he listened, and with out argument agreed to my proposal. Slavery is for life. And we had a contract, to be broken by death only. But this was real, real life. You can’t just sell a slave. You can’t just “snuff” them. That is fantasy, and I have no desire to die. But something was needed, something to denote; this marks the end of that life. It is finished. So I offered. Death without dying, Mourning without grief. Freedom from contract but still in slavery. He agreed. Besides, he said, it would be a great party, a good scene. And a final test of my submission. We made our plans. Gathered our friends. Came the day. It begins simply, My deepest friend Mary, fellow slave, agrees to help. We are in the parlour, to one side of the main room, where already a low murmur of voices rises. I am shaking badly. “Are you sure you want this?” she asks, “ It seems such a risk” I nod. My mouth is too dry to speak. “ Ok, let’s do it” I dress, a full-bodied wedding dress, white and flowing. It has a stiff bodice that squeezes my breasts, lace. White seamed stockings, suspender. No panties, as a slave requires none, ever. Very high, impossibly high heels. I have to lean on the wall. But I won’t be walking far. A veil. I have never married, and briefly regret that I never have. But I quickly dismiss this thought. My life has been one for the rod. A white leather belt is padlocked around my waist. Tight. Today was the 1st day in 10 years I have not been bound in some way; I welcome the belt, welcome back my natural state. Wrist cuffs, white, tight, attaching to the belt at the front. Mary laces a beautiful bunch of carnations about my wrists, they hide my bonds, my hands. Mary fusses. She smiles. “Ready?” Yes. I have no other words. Thank you Mary, and If I never see you again, never forget how you helped me. The gag is a simple white ball gag, it seals my silence. I bite down, oh so used to the feel and taste of the submission it denotes. Mary takes the lead from my Cleopatra collar, and leads me to the chamber. The murmurs grow silent. I stare at my Master, looking deep, but there is no love there, just amusement. I am such a silly slave. I’m sure he can feel the heat I generate. I kneel at his feet. He speaks to the crowd, a short speech, retelling of a slaves training by her master, of her collar, her vow. He explains what today means. So it is finished. Then he turns to me, and addresses me. “Do you Slave accept your fate? Do you place your life into the hands of an unknown one here? Knowing that you are a failed slave, failed in retaining the interest of your master.” I nod. “Then I remove your collar, and consign you to your fate” How I delighted I was the day we had purchased it, when Sax Leather was just a shop - not a symbol of our lifestyle. But thats over now. I cry a small tear as my neck sees daylight for the first time in oh so many years. To lose his love is one thing. To fail as a slave is another. I will understand if nobody feels I am worthy of restoration. I stand. My coffin is startling white. It is not a casket, and it is not opulent. Just a traditional white box, cheaply lined. Only a silk cushion gives it any softness, and they hardly offset the stark white straps that festoon its interior. But the lid is glass. And 2 small hose connections incourougsly break the picture at one end, they disappear into the trolley the coffin rests upon. The banks of flowers surround it, and I know hide the hoses and small fan that will connect to the surface. He nods towards it. Now that the moment has come, I feel afraid. In fantasy it seemed so easy. Now it just induces a terrible freezing of my will. How I wish he would just hug me just once more. But that is finished. Until I (if I ever) wear a mans collar again, I am dead to the world. And it is time for my burial. I step into the coffin, lay down, it squeezes my shoulders, my head rubs the end, and my heels scrape the other. Mary fusses about as I stare sightless, at the ceiling. My dress billows, flows, it rustles as I settle into place. I feel nothing as the straps begin to hold me down, make me as one with my box. Fantasy will not contain real panic. I have ashamed my status enough, I do not intend to let panic, if it comes, to destroy my beauty. Flowers fill the gaps, the scent is overpowering. The lid is lowered; it presses the flowers down, almost touches my chest, sits millimetres from my nose. I hear the sound of the screws tightening the lid into place. The glass is thick, and heavy. It says finality. Abruptly all sound ceases, only that of my breathing fills this box. Confined now maybe forever. I can feel a gentle breeze at my head. Three days the air will last. If I am not rescued by then, not felt worthy of the effort to dig six feet of dirt away, then I will not require anymore. I am a failed slave. The cart moves, wheeled through master’s house. Familiar roofs. I sense our friends following. We enter the outside air; travel across his manicured lawn; the box trembles and wobbles as we make our way across the uneven surface. I tremble with it. The sun beats down, and the glass heats me. I sweat. Reality of what is happening begins to grip me, involuntarily my body rebels. I can go no where, I cannot move, a white vision of lace and flowers, so stark against the dark hole I know we are now parked against. Familiar faces of fellow slaves come into view. They will not look at me, one I see is crying. I feel my coffin lifted, I sense an interruption to the airflow, then it resumes. There is a long pause; I wobble, for a moment I am afraid that I will be dropped. I know that my box is being aligned with rails leading to the bottom, that the discreet hoses are being connected. Master speaks. “When a slave submits her will to him, she becomes his product. To do as he will. I renounce ownership of this slave, and in this ceremony I proclaim the disposal of an unwanted product. However, we bury this product today, in the hope that someone here will think it worth restoration. We bury her in the hope of a restorated life.” I’m lowered into the hole, jerking slightly, descending from light into shadow, heat into cold. My grave will be cold, cold, cold. Bottom. I dug this hole, and made sure that my head will be higher than my feet. It is small comfort. A pause. I look at the square of sky above me. More flowers fall on the glass. I look desperately for my master’s face, but never see it. And now I know for sure. Even this last act, this last submission was not enough for him. I truly am lost, forever. I close my eyes in sorrow. The moment catches me by surprise, I never see the earth fall, just open my eyes to the thunder of the falling dirt. Darkness. Instant darkness, only a glimmer of light towards my right cheek. More noise, and it is gone. Frantically I listen to each load, each one fainter than the last. My heart beats frantically. Now I try to scream, it strangles in my throat. The silence, darkness is complete. My heart beats like a drum. My muscles are tense as solid timber, as solid as the lid above me. I know now I am buried six foot down, a patch of disturbed dirt in an anonymous backyard. Already I feel the stiffness that impossible bondage brings settle into my limbs. I know I am totally, completely held in captivity as I have never been before, a position only one born for bondage can understand, now totally dependant on a stranger to save me. If one ever does. I orgasm. I have made my choice. If I am worthy I will see the light again, if not, then this slaves submission is complete.

The Brides of the Mummy

Wed, 13 Apr 2005 00:00:00 +0000

“Excuse me Pharaoh, but the women are here for your inspection.”

The sun shone through the pillars of the palace as the ruler of Egypt strolled through the marble corridors with his scribe. His expression was neutral, no facial movement showed his inner emotions.

“Tell me again Maud, how many have you found?” the Pharaoh asked.

“One hundred, my Pharaoh, all young and willing. They are very eager to meet you.”

Rawhide

Fri, 30 Apr 2004 00:00:00 +0000

Roy wrapped the last loop around the leg and yanked hard.

“That is how you rope a calf.”

“Moo” said Amy waving her free arm.

She struggled a little showing how secure the three-legged hog tie was done for calf roping before Mrs. Donnavans 4th grade class.

Sashay Leathers and Outfitters were in the middle of Wyoming’s rough country. It did a very brisk business and was known for its custom leatherwork. Roy Wayne. (No relation by the way.) Was what you would call a Picassos and Renoir of the leather world. He specialized in restoration and reconditioning of any leather item and a maker of dying art of saddlery. He took the business over from his father, who now was in Miami, after his rodeo career was cut short by a bull goring him in the knee. He could walk fine but if you knew his right boot was tricked out to make up for the one inch in height missing from surgery. He had one of those bone diseases that did not let you heal right. Imagine all that time in high school sport and rodeo and he never broke a bone. Then the one time it happened. Wham. He was out for good.

Coven

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

Cast of Characters

Lulu – Blonde, full-figured, a paid sacrificial-victim of cult Anne-Marie – Witch-leader, coven organizer, roommate Jo-Anne – Assistant coven-leader, witch, devil-worshipper Bob and Dick – Cult gay couple, piercing-suspension experts Freddy and Harry – Cult medical men, bleeding-wound staunchers Shrouded Coven pacing-chanting members, a “Leaping Lures” [fishing-cabin motel] desk-clerk – all small-part players

All characters were more than eighteen by the time of the story. ***

CAVEAT: Activities described herein may be hazardous to health, so please don’t try this at home! ***

Coven 2

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

(story continues from Coven)

Cast of Characters

Lulu – Blonde, full-figured, a paid sacrificial-victim of cult Anne-Marie – Witch-leader, coven organizer, roommate Jo-Anne – Assistant coven-leader, witch, devil-worshipper Bob and Dick – Cult gay couple, piercing-suspension experts Freddy and Harry – Cult medical men, bleeding-wound staunchers Marge - confused teenage motel-keeper’s daughter Shrouded Coven pacing-chanting members, a “Leaping Lures” [fishing-cabin motel] desk-clerk – all small-part players

All characters were more than eighteen by the time of the story. ***

Found Video

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

A dark bondage story very loosely based on 8mm with Nick Cage:

Kevin and Dawn had been together long enough for their sex to get routine, not bad, just routine. Kevin wanted to spice things up some and started to bring home videos from the local shop near their house. At first Dawn didn’t want any part of the tame porno movies, but they excited both of them to the point that they never seemed to finish one on their bedroom TV before having inspired sex. Kevin was happily surprised at the new things Dawn would try, things he tried to talk her into before like different positions, and even some light bondage. It seemed if Dawn saw it in a video then it wasn’t too bizzar to try in real life. Kevin knew he had a good thing going and didn’t want to screw it up with his sexy and more exciting partner, but they were running out of movies at the local video store that they hadn’t seen yet.

Gai-Shift - Out of Africa Chapter 7: Crossing the Line

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

(story continues from Gai-Shift - Out of Africa Chapter 6: Full Service)_

_To understand the Gai Shift & to review the characters in this story, check out this useful guide: Gai-Shift Encyclopedia of Knowledge

Chapter 7: Crossing the Line

with thanks to SkyHawk7x

April 17, 199_by Adara Burke, reporter for The Sun_

I prefer past-tense; newspaper writing is always the was, rather than the is. A force of habit, so I recorded the events of this day in my own style. I’m sure Sister Annie would want things documented.

Gai-Shift 7: Pollywogs

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

(story continues from Gai-Shift 7: Pollywogs)_

Chapter 8: High Mistress of Ecuador

“I didn’t think you’d be up this early,” Captain Zana Hoffsteder noted, adjusting her small glasses. “And what ever have you done to Lady Goldwaith? It’s a look that certainly works for her.”

Constance Drummand knew she, herself, looked shopworn. Even crisply attired in the black leather skirt, white blouse, and boots of the London Police Force, the weariness shown through. After all, it had only been five short hours ago when Zana finally unbuckled her from the cabin bulkhead, allowing her to crumple to the decking in a post-orgasmic funk. She didn’t even remember Petra carrying her to her cabin.

Gai-Shift 7: Pollywogs

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

(story continues from Gai-Shift 6: Miss Anna)_

Chapter 7: Pollywogs

The Unbound Pleasure throbbed west, its massive shadow thrusting over Puerto Rico’s lush hills. To catch favorable winds, they dropped low over southern Cuba, the pulse of their propellers rising the faces of brightly-dressed women and imprisoned men.

The warmer lower-altitude air convinced Captain Hoffsteder to order the cabin windows opened, to admit the jungle’s scent. Constance Drummand leaned out an open port, the sun hot on her rubber-clad back, the wind a caress across her cheek. Endless treetops slid past two hundred feet below, then a clearing where a naked man lay pegged out on the grass. A dark woman, scantily clad in a swimsuit, played with his body with a willowy peacock feather. She twisted to look up at the passing airship, waving gaily. Constance smiled and returned the greeting.

Part 18 - The Wedding Ceremony … As narrated

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

(story continues from My Odyssey Part 17: Star Tells Me Her Story … As narrated)_

_Continues from part 17

My Odyssey

As narrated by Anne-Marie Killamajiian, Wife of Ahmed, of the House of Mustaffa, the Diamond Merchant

Warning: This story involves bondage, consensual sex, domination, coercion, sex changes, sexual slavery, rape, and other jiggery-pokery. It is entirely fictional, and is intended as entertainment for adults only. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any location or activity is purely coincidental. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. (As if anybody ever is!)

Sacrifice 250

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

Sci-Fi / Fantasy / Mind Control / Sacrifice / Public Nudity / Public orgasm / Public Sex / Exhibitionism

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Will Olivia be fertility sacrifice two hundred fifty?

Over the course of the 1000 years of existence for Colony Seven, there have been 249 fertility sacrifices offered to the gods. The time for the 250th fertility festival approaches. Who will be chose as Sacrifice 250?

The Eighth House

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

“Welcome to the Hall of Choosing, Lady Jana.” The magus in charge of the ceremony of choices was polite at least, although he had no need to be. He was in his fifties, dressed in the opulent robes of a master, just a step down from the council itself. I was just an apprentice at her moment of choosing, one of the hundreds of eighteen year old women and men set to graduate from the College of the Art and make the choice that would define us for the rest of our lives.

Trina's Wedding

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

Aside to Sharon and Trina;

“Bast, Goddess who comprehends Goddesses, Eye of Ra Protector, Avenger, Destroyer, Keeper of Life, who lives forever”

“Sharon and Trina, you have come to the Temple of Bast, your priestess, and your assembled friends to Unite with each other. This is a solemn moment, which neither of you should ever remember lightly, but rather hold this as a tribute to Bast and to each other.”