Crowd

story continued from part one Part 2: Still Afloat Kate had been at sea now for a week. She was riding the wave of excitement and intrigue. Four times now she had been part of the club’s shows, three times it had been in the vac cube, immobilised and unable to see or hear, her body had been overloaded with feelings, such power it had on her, no way to move, to escape the prying hands. She had braved torments of ice and being touched and slapped all over as a latex shell held her in a contorted position. Then each night she’d been lifted away by Simon and his group of men and left to float with her performance partner Becky in a relaxation pool. ...

story continued from part two Part 3: Missed Duties Kate walked around the backstage nervous, it was time for her to be out in the club without the support of her very close friend Becky. She recalled last time when Mark a past work colleague had found her, she had been trussed up suspended just above the crowd, only a small latex thong to cover her crotch. She had been terrified her old work friends and family back home would find out what she did now. They just thought she worked as entertainment crew on a cruise ship. True enough as long as that included semi naked performances of bondage and encasement for guests on a cruise ship for sexual experiences. Kate was waiting for her boyfriend and team member Simon who would be helping her in and out of her toys. Tonight she was trying out something new. The team had been busy in the workshops and had built a plastic pole sphere. From the hooks a model could be attached in a spread eagle position inside. Once attached it wouldn’t matter how the ball rotated, the model would be held immobilised. ...

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

(story continues from Training Rose 7: Cannes to Las Vegas) Part 8: Supreme Champion An elderly three engined Boeing 727 airliner was waiting for us at McCarran airport as we arrived just after dark, a 727 with cigarette burns on the varied hues of its filthy second hand upholstery, blues, greens some even in orange and red check, but despite the fact it smelled like a bear pit all three engines seemed to work and it took off easily enough yet almost as soon as it levelled off it seemed to start descending again through the darkness and the pilot announced, “This is your Captain speaking, don’t bother releasing your seat belts we shall be landing at Dream Land in less than five minutes.” ...

The True Story Of My First Visit To A Bondage Club. I’d been back in the city for about six weeks and was sharing an apartment with Mandi when she suggested that I went with her to the Club the next Friday night. She said that I could see for myself what the local BDSM scene was really like. Up until then my only experience of bondage had been being tied up by boyfriends and, since I’d come back to the city, being tied up by Mandi. I found that more and more I loved being helplessly and inescapably bound. I’ve come a long way in the bondage scene since then and, although what happened to me on that first visit to a bondage club may now seem a little tame, I think that it’s worthwhile looking back to my first experience of professional bondage and bondage in front of an audience. ...

I have been into bondage and self bondage since I was very young, maybe 6 or 7 years old. I travel a lot and spend many hours in self bondage on my trips. I like to cross-dress also and don’t look too bad. This is a true story, one of many to be told. During a trip to Las Vegas in about 1989 I was staying in a smaller motel on the edge of town. I prefer motels with outside entrances to the parking lot directly from the room, no hallways. I was planning an extended bondage session and hoped to enlist some outside help to humiliate and perhaps torment me. ...

(story continues from Training Rose 5: Saddleworth to Cannes) Part 6: Dressage Henry had actually come up trumps, I had barely arrived back at the farm than he took me to the big barn behind the stables, one I had never been to before, and I saw it contained a half decent training arena. “What do you think of this?” he asked. It was a little black box with a strap. ...

(story continues from Training Rose 6: Dressage) Part 7: Cannes to Las Vegas “What on earth did you want to go and do that for!” Daddy demanded as I stepped down from the podium, or what was left of it after it collapsed when I did my victory jump, to a faint ripple of polite applause with my Cannes grand prix winners gold medal around my neck. I had just won arguably the worlds most prestigious pony-girl event the Cannes Grand Prix outright and yet still he still found cause to criticise me, he really was impossible. ...