Enslaved on Gromet's Plaza Archive

In the Land of the Dolls 5: And Then There Were Three

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

(story continues from In the Land of the Dolls 4: Out in the Garden)

Part 5: And Then There Were Three

The sun beat down on our bare flesh and we were both gaining a glorious tan at odds with our bright red hair and steely blue eyes. Bright red hair that was growing long and thick in a way it seldom did back home. Home, ah what a delightful thought that was. And then, some days, only a distant memory to which I had no wish to return.

In the Land of the Dolls

Mon, 05 Mar 2018 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1: There has been a mistake here.

“Look, there has clearly been a mistake here”

“Madame, allow me to assure you that you are mistaken. Your order has been processed exactly as you placed it. I have it on the computer in front of me”

“And I assure you that this is not what I ordered”

“Madame, I have to tell you that you have received exactly what you ordered. 1 large size child’s doll. Snow White type. And that is all you will be charged for”

Item #37

Sun, 03 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000

It all started out as a joke.

The local riding club was planning its annual auction to support the stable, and a couple of the young women decided to auction off one of its members dressed as a pony. Expenses were high, and it was thought that such a stunt would bring in some much-needed revenue. They chose Brianna, one of their best riders, who agreed to be the “pony girl.”

Donor X

Sat, 02 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000

James discovers that he is very special… and very desired. In a future world, not that distant from our own, overpopulation is no longer an issue… but the survival of the human race is. Eighteen-year-old James Wiseman reports for his first monthly “deposit” and finds out that he is a very special young man. I normally don’t write stories based on others people’s ideas, but when Literotica member dimimis1991 proposed this to me, it struck a chord deep within my twisted mind and I could see this story unfold. His idea was a young man whose sperm was so special that he becomes effectively a captive slave. I put it in the future to give context to the story I built around the idea. I will leave it to the reader to judge whether James has ended up in a heavenly or hellish situation.

That Good Story

Mon, 30 Oct 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Good evening and welcome to our little tree-house of fear, Tonight, for your entertainment and terror we bring you.. (by the way, I am now affecting my best Vincent price voice)… a tale ofAliens from far off worlds, of beautiful damsels in distress and of abduction and transformation. This tale is not intended to shock or repulse, but merely to inform and worn of the terrors that exist beyond our every day experiences. For where the tales of the T light zone (to avoid copywright issues) are pure fantasy, the tale you are about to be told is all true…….

Beg For It

Fri, 29 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Do not use without the author’s permission.

“Fuck off, scumbag.”

Sonny was hurt. All he had asked for was some spare change for a cup of coffee, and this rich-bitch cunt had all but kicked him in the balls. Dressed in her expensive suit and talking on her smart phone like she was the fuckin’ Queen of Sheba or something. She thought she was so superior, walking down the street with that toned gym body, perfect hair, and designer fucking shoes. Screw her. She was worse than many of the others. He had hoped that the recent gentrification of the neighborhood would mean more handouts, but that was not the case at all.

Herja's Arena

Mon, 04 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Based on the Deviantart Posts “Underground Deathmatch” by Nanasbananas

A female muscle loving high school student meets the amazon of his dreams

I was in love. She was a goddess. She was sex made flex. She was … oh you get the idea. The only problem? There was no way in hell I was ever going to meet her.

Her name was Herja. She was the star of a very popular Youtube channel dedicated to the physical domination of men by a blonde Amazonian fighter. She would lure cheating men into her underground gym and beat the living shit out of them so they could learn their lesson. Herja was gorgeous, leggy, busty and ripped. The sight of her was enough to make me rock hard.

Lesbos Connection

Wed, 10 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1. Coming Out

Chapter 1.

I made the decision today. I am going to ask if I can have a boob job. After a year on hormones I have grown small puffy attractive boobs that women seem to love touching. Perhaps my boobs remind them of when they were feeling their own rising sexual appetites as they developed their teenage boobs or perhaps they bring out the latent lesbianism in some more mature women who sometimes become attracted to the teenagers beyond their normal reach and substitute me in their desires.

The Abduction of Amanda 2: Taken and Sold

Thu, 04 May 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Author’s Note: This my third posted story under my bondage modelling name this time as I model for bound Kathy and friends and on fetlife. The way it is written may seem strange but please bear with me I have done it as I would replies to the online game I play from my perspective as the story is based on a game my hubby ran.

Chapter One: The Abduction

The Open House

Tue, 31 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Part 1

Kelly and I had done all the preparations for the open house the signs had all been placed and we are open for business. We picked this house for its long driveway and tree line blocking the view of the attached garage which our van was conveniently backed up to the doors of. I walked into the kitchen to find Kelly setting out cookies and Coco as it was a cool day in Arizona. Kelly fully looked the part in her black dress, black stockings, black 6" closed toed platforms, and her black leather gloves. Kelly’s long blonde wig perfectly hid her long dark hair I love so much. She also wore several other false items to throw people off. Me black suit, black wig,black mustache. We quickly before anyone arrived went over the plan, we need 3 choice pieces of ass for our first Internet auction to our overseas friends. We need to be on the same page do as we practiced and get the hell out of here fast before the real realtor comes by. Kelly will show the guest around and open doors etc as she has the gloves on and we don’t want to leave fingerprints.

Private Dreams

Mon, 30 Jan 2017 00:00:00 +0000

Madison had been into bondage her whole adult life, her entire body had been sculpted by the things she forced it into. The tiny waist she had was due to her passion for corsets, she had not been without one since she was eighteen, wow, eighteen she thought just over ten years ago and look at me know. Madison stood looking at the body that had gotten her everything she had ever wanted enjoying herself as she stroked her muscular legs admiring the tall heels she always wore locked on and how they forced her legs and ass to look so good. The corset she currently wore hadn’t been removed in six months and kept her waist at a svelte sixteen inches with its half cups supporting her large breasts that had been kept firm and perfectly shaped by the “bras” she was never without.

The Forbidden Tablets

Sun, 20 Mar 2016 00:00:00 +0000

Historical, Fantasy, Non-consensual, Public Nudity, Flogging, Public Humiliation, Public Sex

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A young princess gets to proclaim a traitor’s punishment.

In ancient Arabia, intrigue and betrayal in a tribe ruled by women leads to a severe, but very erotic, punishment.

Author’s note: The Thamud were a real tribe in Ancient Arabia. No one knows why they disappeared around the time of the rise of Islam. Some say it was because they were Matriarchal in an ever more Patriarchal society. Oral tradition says they were wiped out by the lava flow and dust from a volcano. No one knows. And this story of ancient tablets which tell their story is fiction… for now.

The Building

Fri, 30 Oct 2015 00:00:00 +0000

The building broods where the cloverleaf junction meets the railway tracks, squat and massive, dominating the crossroads. Its position no coincidence, at the conflux of concrete and steel, where the ghosts of murderers cannot find their way back to take their revenge.

Up where the warehouses cower beneath screaming graffiti and vast pillars carry the arcs of the highway far overhead, where waste-grounds of abandoned development projects give way to weeds and squatter camps, the building hefts and spreads its tentacles.

T-Immobile

Sun, 26 Jul 2015 00:00:00 +0000

_Author's Note:_Another quickie . I’m sure many of us have had similar ideas when watching the commercials. This may read a lot like a re-tread, but it deals with images I enjoy.* “And…CUT!” The director called out. “That’s a wrap people. See you all again on Monday.”

Carly Foulkes let out a relieved sigh and climbed off the Kawasaki ZX10 that sat on the stage in front of a large ‘Green Screen’ used for special effects. “Any longer on that damn bike and I’d be walking like a cowboy for a month.” She thought bemusedly to herself, as she pulled off the full-face crash helmet. The last hour of taping had required her to keep the helmet’s face shield down the majority of the time. That, combined with the heat from all the lighting had given her waterproof makeup a run for its money. Still, the warm air of the studio felt cool against her flush skin. Unfortunately for the moment, her hair and face were the only things benefitting from exposure to “fresh” air. That was because Carly was still clad in the sponsor’s signature, black and magenta colored leather catsuit. Of course, no one associated with the commercial openly called it that. Be it referred to as a “costume, riding togs, leathers” whatever, all knew that it personified the oldest adage in advertising. Sex sells. And Carly was selling it big time. Hokey as it might sound, she looked as if her shapely, 5'9" frame had been poured into the leather garment. Add to that the feline grace with which she walked, even while wearing the high heeled boots and the cell phone carrier’s profits had almost doubled. Her compensation for this had made sweating buckets during each shoot infinitely more tolerable. Still, as she “squished” back to her dressing room, the crew rapidly breaking down equipment in anticipation for the upcoming weekend, Carly briefly longed for the early days as spokeswoman when all she had to wear was a frilly pink dress. “I’ll be in shorts and a tee, drinking ice cold Evian in less than 10 minutes.” The actress reminded herself. Carly was smiling at this image as she entered her dressing room. The smile vanished in confusion and beneath a large cloth which suddenly covered the lower half of her face. At the same time, a powerful arm wrapped around her torso trapping her arms. The cloth felt damp and cool, but also seemed to burn her skin. When she gasped in surprise, her eyes, nose and throat began to burn as well. Knowing that something was wrong, if not exactly what, she began to thrash instinctively. “That’s it baby, fight me!” Whispered a familiar, yet uncharacteristically menacing voice in her ear. This only exacerbated Carly’s confusion which, even under these circumstances, seemed to have blossomed drastically out of proportion. The actress twisted and grunted whilst trying to call for help. With each of these efforts, she drew more of the noxious fumes into her lungs. Rapidly, her confusion seemed to grow less important. In fact, the need for, or ability to frame any rational thought felt less and less imperative. Ignoring a far off cry of caution, Carly toppled into the welcoming arms of oblivion. “Confusion” seemed to be the watchword of the day. As Carly slowly awoke, her body taking a languid inventory, the actress registered an assortment of aches, pains and other “oddities”. She fumbled to remember what had taken place. Had she recently gone through a particularly grueling Tae-Bo class? Had she and her boyfriend enjoyed a night of exceptionally energetic sex? None of the pieces seemed to fall into place. Her shoulders, arms and legs ached as if just having worked out, but that didn’t explain the ache in her jaw. Her breasts hurt and her sex felt weird, but that didn’t explain the crush on her head and torso, nor the semi-urgent need to defecate. Figuring it was time to wake up and work things out, Carly decided to get the blood flowing with a good old fashioned stretch. It was when nothing happened that she put it all together. “I’m tied up!” She realized. Straining once more, it hit her at what an understatement that was. She could hardly move! “hhhmmnnnngffff!!!” The beauty called for help. She was dumbfounded into silence at how muted her cry was. Belatedly, she became cognizant of how her gaping mouth was filled to overflowing by a spongy mass. She tried to spit it out, but her tongue was trapped beneath the dense packing. She tried to close her mouth, but the pressure of the stuff kept her jaw jacked wide open. Something narrow bit into the corners of her mouth passed around her head and dug into the base of her skull with particular ferocity. Carly tried to reach up and rip the abomination away. That’s when the mystery of her aching shoulders was solved. Her arms wouldn’t budge! More accurately, they were crushed together behind her back from fingertips to elbows and beyond. She kicked out desperately, but her legs remained stubbornly folded. In an odd observation amongst all this disturbing discovery, Carly noted that she could feel the heels of her boots pressing into her butt cheeks. This spurred the realization that she could feel the familiar cling of the catsuit all over her body. “Back amongst the living, are we?” Said a voice off to her right. The actress whipped her head that way, dread sweeping over her as it was clear that that was all she could move. Her wide, frightened eyes settled on her director sitting casually in a nearby chair. He was holding a camera and on the floor next to him was a monitor facing in her direction. It took a long moment for Carly to realize that the person in the image was her. When in costume, she was accustomed to seeing nothing but leather from the neck down. But now she gazed upon the color coordinated “accessories” to her advertising persona. Some kind of ‘sleeve’ trapped her arms behind her keeping them perpetually straight. Carly strained once more against it, the sleeve’s gleaming black and magenta surface hardly flexing. She wriggled her fingers what little they could. She couldn’t feel her sweaty fingers or palms and deduced she was still wearing the costume’s tight gloves. 2" wide leather straps (matching color scheme of course) pinned her arms to her spine by passing around her ridiculously reduced torso. Some sort of waist cincher or corset squeezed her midsection without pause, eliminating any hope of bending or twisting. More of the same straps kept her legs folded. She couldn’t be sure, but it felt like they’d been strapped individually and then together. Above where the leather ended, things were no better. The least distressing feature was her hair, which had been gathered into a tight ponytail high on the back of her head. Substantially more distressing, was a one inch leather strap bisecting a magenta mass that looked to be trying to spill from her gaping mouth. “ggnnnnmmffff!” Carly grunted, involuntarily screen testing the gag for the camera. The director chuckled, tossing a foam ball almost 6" in diameter up in the air. It was the exact same color as what peeked out between Carly’s painted lips. “Kids aren’t the only ones who can play with these.” He said. “I must say, I had a hell of a time cramming it all into that pretty mouth of yours.” Carly wouldn’t have believed it possible that such a large object would fit in her mouth if she weren’t experiencing the devastating effect first hand. “nnnnnghhhh!” She grunted in a combination of discomfort, anger and bafflement. She wanted out and she wanted out NOW! Explanations (and apologies and lawsuits) could come later. Carly thrashed at her restraints in a panic-fueled fury, unconsciously keeping track of her progress in the monitor. Although she knew exactly how much effort she was exerting to break free, it did not reflect on the TV screen. At best, it looked like she was writhing in slow motion. Exhaustion quickly overtook her and she lay there gasping, her body drenched with sweat beneath her leather second skin. “Well,” the director said, “that was quite a little tiff. God, actors can be so hard to work with. And we’re not even done with your costume yet.” “First, a little something to enhance your ‘Damsel in Distress’ motivation.” He fixed the camera to a squat tripod and strolled over. Using his foot, he rolled Carly on to her side then knelt beside her. With great apprehension (and helplessness) the actress looked down to follow his actions. She noticed three rubber hoses with bulbs at their ends trailing away from her catsuit. One was at her chest, the other two from a strap that descended from the corset and dove down between her legs. Only now did Carly notice the firm pressure against her crotch, the strictness of her other bonds overshadowing it. The spokeswoman tried to twist away from her assailant with negligible results as he reached for the hose at her chest. She could do nothing to prevent whatever he planned to do next. “I do apologize for having to take certain liberties in your preparation.” He explained remorselessly. With that, he began squeezing the bulb. Almost immediately, Carly felt a tightening around the base of each breast. This was quickly accompanied by an uncomfortable “prickling” sensation consuming each tit. The brunette tried to flinch away from the sensation, but her breasts had nowhere to go. She looked up at the director in distraught puzzlement. “An inflatable rubber bra with rubber spiked lining.” He answered her unable-to-be-spoken question. “Although quite stiff and sharp, the spikes won’t pierce your skin. That is, unless you struggle too hard.” By the time he disconnected the hose, Carly thought her breasts had been placed over hot coals. She tried to twist or shrink away from the horrible sensation, but could find no respite. She quickly discovered that any attempt to shy away only caused her more grief. Tears welled up in her eyes, eyes which pleaded with him to let her go. His expression told her he had no such inclination. Instead, he began squeezing the first of the two bulbs lower down. To her horror, she felt something expanding inside her vagina. It rapidly grew to proportions she’d never experienced during intercourse. He stopped pumping somewhere between extremely uncomfortable and agonizing. Throughout the process, Carly had kept up a stream of muffled protests, complaints and pleas, none of which did her any good. “Boy,” he said as he disconnected the hose, “if you’re gonna raise that much of a fuss over that, you’re probably not going to like this at all.” Squeezing the last bulb, Carly’s eyes shot wide as something began to expand in her rectum. She went ballistic, having never diddled with her back passage in the past. Her doubled up legs tried to knock his hands away while at the same time she tried to squirm in any direction but here. Her breasts started to scream “Knock It Off!” but she kept trying. And the probe kept inflating. By the time he disconnected the last hose, the brunette beauty was writhing like a hypothermic eel. When exhaustion finally put a halt to her escape attempts she was no better off. As she lay there, she realized that remaining motionless caused her the least amount of intolerable duress. Her eyes were drawn once more to the monitor. The flush face and tearing eyes on the screen only hinted at the perverse depth of what she was experiencing. “You never knew that acting could be so fulfilling did you?” He said. “Well, that takes care of the inside, let’s finish with the rest of your costume.” He callously rolled Carly back on to her stomach. The jabbing at her breasts trebled but she dare not attempt to rock back on her side. Her “nnnnnmmmphh!” was more groan than protest. She watched him with disinterested interest, her brain still trying to wrap itself around her predicament. He approached with yet more leather, color coordinated as usual. “This should help quiet your incessant yapping.” He said. Carly’s world went dark as something was pulled up over her face. Her vision did return, but she found that she’d lost most of her peripheral vision. She felt leather enveloping her head accompanied by a yanking on her ponytail. The thick skin shifted as the director made some minor adjustments. And then the whole thing began to shrink as a fierce tugging pulled her head up involuntarily. It continued to shrink until not a millimeter of her head escaped the squeeze. Although she could still see, the sensation was stifling and claustrophobic. “mmmmmnnnnh!” Carly groaned, the sound emanating more inside her head than out.

Legends

Wed, 20 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Know, oh Queen, that, with the ascension of Zarela to the throne, a period of darkness descended upon the land. Unlike her mother, who prized learning, Zarela worshipped the flesh. Philosophers, teachers, any who supported free thought, were arrested on the flimsiest of reasons, if any reason at all were given. These were put to the harshest of labors. Many collapsed under the harsh treatment. Those who did were quickly taken away, never to be seen again.

The Ponygirl Wish 3: Rebellion & Retribution

Mon, 21 Jul 2014 00:00:00 +0000

(story continues from The Ponygirl Wish 2: Training)

Part 3: Rebellion & Retribution

Amber woke with a start. There was somebody in her room. There was somebody sitting on the edge of her bed. Amber’s eyes sprung open and she almost screamed. Then she stopped herself. It was a young woman. No older than Amber and quite small. The girl was almost naked. She wore a cinch around her waist similar to Amber’s but tight. Much tighter than Amber’s. Amber gasped. She had metal cuffs on her wrists that were joined with a light chain about eighteen inches long. Around her neck was a shiny chrome collar. Her mouth was covered by a flesh colored panel and on closer inspection it was clear that the panel held something in her mouth.

Enslaved by Friends

Wed, 12 Dec 2012 00:00:00 +0000

When I met up with them I never thought of what would have happened that afternoon. Laura and Rose were two very good friends of mine. They asked me if I could help them with learning for their exams at the university. As I arrived at Laura’s home they both greeted me and let me in. We started to study and everything was good until Rose left the room for a moment. I didn’t notice her approaching me from behind because I was too distracted with helping Laura. She quickly covered my nose with a cloth with some kind of chloroform on it. I quickly fainted and everything went black.

Predator & Prey

Mon, 06 Mar 2006 00:00:00 +0000

It began with the advert in the contact section of one of the more popular fetish magazines.

Male submissive, rubber fetishist required by demanding dominatrix. Serious applicants only. Must be healthy and willing to undergo extensive and rigorous training in rubber immersion and submissive slavery. Box 4994

Since an early age this had been his ultimate fantasy. He’d spend endless hours fantasising about being overpowered by an imperious domina and forced to serve her. He was now financially independent, but still alone and frustrated. Finally he decided to pluck up courage. There followed lengthy, detailed and intimate correspondence. He was aware that there were a lot of fakes out there - call girls and the like. He became nervous at the length and extent of Madame Isabel’s questions. She wanted to know everything about him; his personal and medical history, his financial status, his rubber wardrobe and his rubber experiences and fantasies. He opened up over time, and she was understanding, for as she explained she too had to be careful. But he learned little of her in their email correspondence, while he emailed his life story to her. Gradually they built up a trust, although he was aware that she knew everything about him and he very little about her. He recognised that he may be taking a risk, but then by now he was prepared to do that. And anyway, what’s the worst that could happen to him? He was an able-bodied man that could take care of himself, certainly with a woman - domina or not. No, if it didn’t work out they would go their separate ways. Finally, she advised him she would take him on for a “test drive” over a long weekend. He was equally nervous and thrilled at this. He was to be prepared to meet her at his flat on Friday afternoon. She would move in and he would be his rubber slave for the weekend. If it worked out mutually then they could move on from there. He was not to tell anyone – as if he would – no visitors, no phone calls; it was to be just the two of them. She would bring her “equipment” and he was to wear only rubber, all his “normal” clothes were to be put away. She had all his measurements and she would bring along further apparel which she wrote he may or may not like. However he was to be her slave and it did not matter what a slave thought. He prepared the spare bedroom, got in food and on Friday afternoon nervously awaited her arrival. To please his Mistress he wore his skin-tight latex catsuit with front zip from belly to neck. It had fitted gloves and feet and at crotch and arse removable oval sections attached by stud fastenings. It was coloured black with red flashings down each side and fitted him like it was painted on him. Already he was warm inside it. Its wrists, ankles and waist had reinforced sections with embedded D rings. He’d chained his ankles and wrists (in front) before. Now he could perhaps venture further, with a woman he could trust. On time the phone rang and he nervously answered it. “Are you prepared?” The voice was quite deep and cultured. “Yes…Mistress.” He stuttered and buzzed her in. Through the peephole he saw a caped and hooded figure emerge from the elevator carrying a large tote bag over her shoulder. He opened the door and she moved past him without a glance and dropped the bag in the hall. He could not see her face, obscured by the larger hood. The voluminous cape in shiny black rubber went down to her ankles. He felt a stirring in his groin. She moved to the living room and examined all around her. “Mmm, quite tasteful. Come here and stand to attention, eyes lowered, which is how you will always approach me. ” He did so, breathing in the heady aroma of her cape. Slowly she pulled back her hood, exposing her face. He almost gasped at her beauty. What amazed him was her age; she couldn’t be more than 25 or 26, much younger than he expected and younger than he with blonde straight hair pulled back in a loose pony tail at the nape of her long slim neck. She had bright blue eyes, gentle features and a small mouth with thin lips. She smiled at his reaction and slowly encircled him, appraising him critically. She felt his firm buttocks and he shivered. She noted the cover over his arse, nodding approvingly, then came round and was equally pleased to see the hard cock at his groin. “Your photos didn’t do you justice. I like to see a firm athletic body, it can withstand punishment more.” She stared at him; he wanted to speak but held it back. He wanted to tell her she was an apparition, a dream, a fantasy. “Well this is not a social occasion, let’s get to work. As I said in my emails, do as I command, always, speak only when spoken to, and please me – always. Never question me – never. You have no will, no opinion, you are not a person; you are simply an extension of me. Cross that line and you will incur my wrath. I don’t play games, this is my life.” She had moved close to him, he looked into her face; it was not cruel, but confident, as if almost amused at her own power. He didn’t doubt it for a second. He’d dreamed of this and now he was to experience it. Slowly, never looking away from him, she unzipped the cape and stepped out of it. He was not disappointed. She wore a long sleeved, high necked dress flared at the waist to mid thigh. The top was black with a red skirt, wrists and collar. Over her mid-section was a heavily boned red and black corset with a series of metal buckles at the front. It was cinched brutally; she couldn’t have been more than 22 or 23 inches around the waist and it pushed her breasts outwards at him. Her long legs were encased in shiny grey latex stockings, with even a seam down the back. Her feet were slipped into 4 inch high sharp toed stilettos. The hem of the skirt barely covered the top of the stocking tops. Her hands were covered in gossamer thin transparent latex gloves, so thin he could see her nail varnish. She grinned at his stunned reaction. “You won’t be getting any of this, but just to satisfy your curiosity.” She raised her skirt provocatively. She wore tight white latex panties, over black suspenders, high cut at the sides, so tight they pressed into her labial crease. He almost came with desire, his breath fast. She chuckled. “You can do your worshipping later. But first to business. Your suit is a good base but there are certain slave adornments that are necessary, some of which you will not like; but then you are my slave and your opinions are of no concern.” He was a little nervous at this statement; she was very businesslike as she lifted the tote bag and returned from the hall. “The spare bedroom?” He nodded towards the room. “Come.” She ordered and he followed her. She took little interest in the room and as he stood by the bed she opened the bag and started pulling out things. His heart started to pound as she bent over – the skirt raised above her stockings; and it pounded further when he saw what she had placed on the bed! She turned round and caught him looking worriedly at her. She stood beside him. “We have to get this fine male specimen under control now.” She smiled, enjoying her dominance and smoothed her hands over his latex covered body. “You realise there is no going back from this, all or nothing, my slave on my terms.” He nodded hesitantly and thought, am I out of my depth? He was sure he would soon find out. She was having fun, almost flirting, knowing his fetish for rubber and submission would overcome his fears. “Kneel on the bed,” she ordered, “bound and gagged, I almost get moist at those three little words, a phrase so innocuous to the uninitiated but to us, well you know, don’t you , it just gives us a shiver of excitement. To have a fit young man like you at my mercy, mute and submissive, bound and gagged mmmm, yummy. So prepare yourself, slave to enter a new realm.” She slid behind him; he could feel her breath on his neck. She drew his hands behind his back. “I like your suit, all the D rings make my job of immobilising you all that much easier. Although you’re not going to give me any trouble, are you? If you did you would pay for it later.” She folded his elbows behind his back. He did not resist although his heart was pounding. She attached each wrist’s D ring to the opposite arm’s elbow, and now he was very effectively bound. Next came a 6 inch chain locking on his ankles. He heard the clicks and wondered if there was a way out now. He could talk now before she gagged him, as surely she would. Images flashed through his mind - speak now – back out now. No! This is what you’ve always fantasised about. But reality can be so different. “This is the bit I really like, the fun bit, for me that is.” And she laughed aloud as she held up a large, very large ball gag in front of him. “Open wide now.” He hesitated now; she sensed this and said with a questioning smile. “Yes?” “Look I think maybe…. “No, no, slave it’s far too late for that.” She pulled his chin down with one hand and firmly pushed the ball into his mouth. It was huge and she could hardly get it past his teeth as he grunted his discomfort and tried to communicate with her. “Wider, slave, wider.” “Arrgh.” He thought she would break his teeth, but she was an expert and in it plopped. “Mmm, mmm.” He glared at her but she ignored him as she pulled thick rubber straps across his cheeks, under his chin, either side of his nose and over his head. He slowly breathed through his nose, too late for communication now; he thought and sensed she was thinking the same as she smiled again at his discomfort. Finally she was satisfied the straps were tight enough. “Good, bound and gagged, just the way I like you. But we are not finished yet, not by a long way.” He groaned as she pushed him forward on the bed. His head hit the pillow, his rear in the air. He groaned as he saw her pull on a single latex glove over her gossamer thin glove. She saw him looking at her. “Oh, yes, your anal passage will always be plugged. A true submissive must have a stretched arse to be abused by his mistress.” As she said this she showed him a cock shaped dildo, 3 inches long and 1 inch in diameter, with a flanged base plate next to a narrower neck which he knew his sphincter would grip. “We’ll start out with a fairly small one and work our way from there.” She chuckled and smeared some lube over its shiny surface, then released the press studs off his arse cover. With an extra blob of lube she pushed her finger in slowly; he winced and grunted. “Oh, a virgin, eh? Well you’ll be stretched wider soon enough. Some slaves even get to enjoy it.” She wiggled her finger inside him and noticed that the pressure actually increased his hard-on. “See, you’re getting harder!” he grunted his shock and discomfort, but she ignored him and gently twisted and pressed the plug at his entrance. Initially, stupidly, he tried to clench. “That won’t help you, it’s going in, slow or fast, either way, you are going to get plugged.” He cringed as she slowly pressed it into him. Yes, he was a virgin, he had fantasised about it, but this was a first. He felt he was being split in two – and this was a small cock! Finally, with her gripping him round the waist with one arm and pushing in with the other, it was up to the hilt and his sphincter, almost in relief, naturally squeezed and gripped the neck, and the flange firmly against his crack. This would be no fun to pull out either, he thought. She replaced the cover, pushing in the press studs as he winced, and removed her glove. Then she rolled him over on his back and released his cock cover. The hole was only two inches in diameter and she roughly pushed her hand through, gripped his balls and pulled them out. She looked divine towering over him and despite his position he was rock hard. She took notice of this and stretching the hole, firmly gripped his cock and pulled it through. He screamed but the gag effectively reduced that to a mew. She leant back on her haunches. “Well, you’re a good size, for sure,” she leaned over him and drew her rubber covered finger up and down the shaft, “all the more to punish.” She smiled again, no sign of cruelty at all, but he was starting to get worried about what she had in store for him now. As he was helplessly stretched out in front of her, his hard cock so exposed and vulnerable, he tried to plead with his eyes. She ignored this and knelt over him, showing him an 8 shaped metal contraption of two rings joined in the middle and partly open at both ends. Attached at each open end were two smaller rings. “These are your slave rings, not for around your wrists, or ankles or neck; oh no, these go around your cock and balls. They are self locking and just to make them a little more permanent I am going to cover the interlocking surfaces with some fast setting epoxy glue!”

Christy

Sat, 20 Mar 2004 00:00:00 +0000

Chapter 1

Christy started her first day of her first job. She was right out of business school, inexperienced, and very shy and nervous. On top of that, she wasn’t sure that she would fit in with her co-workers. They were so much more experienced and confident and no one made any move to make her feel welcome. She went home that night totally up tight and in a cold sweat. How badly she needed the security of her rubber bed.

Bondage Boutique