Newspaper

It was the noise of a floorboard creaking in the next room which awoke me from my slumber, unusual as I could normally sleep through a world war in the comfort of my bed. Lying there awake trying to decide whether to ignore or investigate, sod it I’ll get up. Stark bullock naked I crept to my bedroom door and placed my ear against the wood, no sound. Slowly turning the door handle I gingerly opened the door to make my way into the living room. All in darkness, good so far, I can see the reflection of my plasma and my hi-fi equipment. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 15: A Plethora of Tortures) Chapter 16: Saskia the Amateur Sleuth Saskia checked the CCTV footage for what must have been the hundredth time. Although the image wasn’t crystal clear, she was convinced that the female figure seen walking along the platform at Ipswich station and then getting onto the East Suffolk branch line train was the missing woman. She leaned back in her chair and gazed out of the window of her office. After this morning’s rain, the late afternoon sunshine seemed to have brought the crowds out onto the streets of Ipswich, as directly below her window in Giles Circus, late shoppers mingled with people leaving off work for the day, with running and playing school children wending and weaving their way between the ever moving throng. Pigeons strutted and fluttered between peoples’ feet, whilst herring gulls wheeled overhead and landed on window ledges and roofs, waiting hawk-eyed for any scraps of fast food dropped by the passing human melee. Although dulled by the double-glazing, a general hubbub of everyday life could still be heard above the office sounds created by her fellow workers. Saskia gazed upon this scene for a minute or two, before her eyes were drawn further afield, to where the sun’s rays reflected back off the glass façade of the Willis Building. Pondering, she bit her lip. ...

(story continues from The Secrets of Shackleton Grange 16: Saskia the Amateur Sleuth) Chapter 17: The Party A short series of slaps to the face was the catalyst that brought Saskia back into consciousness. These blows weren’t particularly hard, but they had the desired effect of forcing her to open her eyes and stare groggily at the person responsible for this assault upon her cheeks. As her eyes regained their focus, they made contact with those of another female only a few inches in front of her. These eyes, however, were about the only feature visible in a face otherwise covered from neck to crown of the head in a vivid pink hood which appeared almost glued to the contours of the wearer’s face. Saskia also received the impression that she was staring upwards at this woman, as if she were laid out on the floor, or maybe a bed. Behind the masked woman, another woman could be viewed, standing only feet away and looking down on the scene before her. She was wearing a bright red cat-suit that was moulded to every curve of her body, and the sight of this vision in crimson brought back to Saskia where she was and what she was doing here, although the exact circumstances of how she’d fallen asleep were a bit hazy. ...

Thanks to Doctor Vader for his helping hand. My name is Miriam. I’m an attractive blonde woman in my early 20s. Since my first boyfriend, I’ve really been into bondage and anything that fits with it. I’ve been single for a while now and in my private time I’ve tried out a few things in self-bondage and using toys to pleasure myself. I’m very interested in stories about bondage and self-bondage. One time while looking through internet for exciting stories I’d found a site with stories about trash bags, dumpsters, bondage and women who were treated like trash. At first I was shocked, but then I began to get curious about it. I’ve read some stories and began to feel more and more excited about the theme. I wondered how it would feel to be in a trash bag and maybe even in a dumpster too. ...

(story continues from Trapped in the Dumpster 2: Aftermath) Thanks to Doctor Vader for his helping hand. Continued from Part Two Part 3: Trapped in the Dumpster Again Things had gone very strangely the last time. First, I had sealed myself into a huge black trash bag inside a dumpster. I had bound and gagged myself inside the bag and had surrounded myself with paper. Then things went wrong, as very heavy trash was dumped into the dumpster and I was trapped under it’s weight. I was lucky, I was be able to loosen my gag and shout for help. And thankfully there was someone, who had rescued me. ...