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She would buck and squirm, and the weight would bob up and down
and nick the plate, and then the shock would hit her like a
whip lash.

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But she couldn’t take much of the shock, so, in spite of her
arousal, she would arch he naked body, pulling the weight away
from the box. Back and forth she would sway, slumping from
exhaustion, moaning into her gag when she heard the clank of the
metal plates making contact, then steeling herself for the shock
to her cunt. Her body glistened with sweat.

Her hair flailed about her as she shook her head and bit down on the rubber penis
in her mouth and willed herself into a balanced posture.

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From the box ran a wire connected to a pole. The pole jutted up
from the floor, gleaming metal. It’s end, a dildo, was planted
deep in the girl’s cunt. It was thick and stretched the lips of
her pussy wide. It was shiny with her juices. If she slumped
forward, relaxing her pose, the weight would drop down onto the
box, completing an electrical circuit. When the circuit was
completed, the box would send a mild shock to the dildo – just a
few volts but enough to make the girl squirm from it’s fiery
bite. If the weight stayed on the box, the current would continue
for twenty seconds, stop for twenty seconds, then start again,
and so on, until the connection was broken.

So she had a choice, this girl in bondage. She could yank at the
strap, causing the clamps to bite at her nipples, or relax and
send the shock ripping into her cunt. When that happened, she
found that her writhings on the end of her perch set her pussy
aflame!

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She stood, balanced, though just barely. By force of will, the
naked girl tried to remain absolutely motionless. But to do that
was almost impossible. It was the point of her bondage, of
course.

She stood erect, her legs spread wide by a metal bar strapped
between her ankles forcing them apart. Her arms were pulled
behind her back, strapped together at the elbows and wrists
forcing her breasts forward.

Her long blonde hair cascaded down her bound arms all the way to
her slim waist. She was gagged, her mouth stuffed with a penis
gag and covered by a thick leather strap. Otherwise she was
completely nude.

That was the standard stuff, in and of itself arousing as it
silenced and commanded her naked body, offering her charms in
wanton invitation. But there was more tonight – much more!

On each of her erect nipples was a small spring-clamp. These
connected to a thin leather strap, which then connected together
in a heavier strap. This went up to the ceiling rafter and over a
pulley there. At the other end of this strap from her nipples,
dangling just a few feet in front of the girl, was a metal
weight. It rested no more than an inch above a box with a metal
plate on it’s top. In fact, if the girl weren’t leaning back and
away, her taut breasts pulling at the strap, the weight would
rest on the box. The girl arched herself backward, trembling,
struggling to keep the weight away from the box. She had good
reason to.

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In the morning Sue and Betty got up and decided to clean the
house before releasing Gwen from her bondage. But to let Gwen
know that they were still there they placed a set of nipple clamps
on Gwen’s lovely boobs. After lunch they carried Gwen down to the
basement and slowly removed the plaster from her face. As soon as
her face was free Gwen wanted to know if it was all over now.
Betty answered that it was for now. Soon they had Gwen free from
the plaster and cleaned up. To celebrate Gwen’s discovery about
herself. In the morning as Gwen went home she looked forward to
when she could return and have Sue and Betty.

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Down in the basement Gwen was seated in a sturdy chair and her
legs were tied to the chair. The walk down the stairs had excited
Gwen extremely. The combination of the BEN WA balls, the vibrator
and the feel of the rubber were just too much. It was something
else!! Sue removed the gag from Gwen’s mouth. “We must keep your
strength up for the final bind of your stay. So eat your
breakfast” and Sue then proceeded to feed Gwen some eggs and
sausage for breakfast. Gwen kept quiet since every time that she
tried to talk Betty would pinch Gwens nipples very hard. It did
not take many times for Gwen to get the idea. What was to come
next?

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Sue quickly wrapped a loop of rope around Gwen’s wrists and
made the knot tight. Gwen was shocked. As she opened her mouth
to complain she found a pair of her own panties being shoved into
her mouth. Sue quickly used a silk stocking to knot it in place.
Soon Gwen found her knees and ankles tied tightly together. “Well
my pretty” said Betty, “lets see how flexable you are” and quickly
began to tie Gwen’s elbow’s together. She had to pull and tug but
finally succeeded. Then pulling the rope tight tied Gwen’s wrists
and ankles together. “Well that should keep you until morning”
Sue said as she turned out the light. Gwen wondered what would
happen now. Oh, when was Sue due back?

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After two eternities of this, stewing in my juices, clenching and
straining, I resolve to come, if nothing else, by pulling on the cord
and rubbing the vibrator within me. I pull in a steady concerted
rythmn, ignoring the bump-bump of the weights hanging off the clamps.
My legs fight the restraints fight the unyielding iron bar inbetween
them. I feel the urges start, I see the spark that lights the
bonfire.

Bondage Class


As it passes, the end of the whine escapes through my nose, and my
owner whispers yet again sweetness and smiles in my ear, “The motor
will turn on when you tug on the string, but only for one second.
Then,” I hear the grin widening, “it will shut off for four. Have
fun. Oh, and don’t move around so much.” The cover scrunches in my
ear again, also cutting off a sliver of light I was able to pry from
the tape.

I feel a gentle pressure and a soft snap as a switch is thrown. I give
a cautionary tug. I tingle. Not just my ass, but I tingle, as if
shocked. The lurch rocks the weights, and my chest is blazing with
erotic fire. The buzzing stops. Tug. Pull. Yank! Nothing. Buzz.

Two Knotty Boys


A tearing sound at my right ear.

“I’ll be hanging a little weight on that,” a cold voice emphasized by a
cold, dispassionate tweak on the clamp. I gasp, sharply. “I wouldn’t
jump around so much if I were you.”

A shock ran, electrifying my spine, as a *heavy* pull followed. I felt
a cold piece of metal swing against my breast, above (no, that’s below,
I’m upside- down) my nub, sparking and spitting with every heartbeat.
I moan, a wail sailing in my ear. The tears flow freely, and the tape
starts to give again. And it holds fast after giving precious ground.

The hell throbs down to a bearable onrush. My mind swims. Febblely, I
reach with my hands, knowing that they will never relieve the pain.
Bound as they are at elbow and wrist, I surprise myself by swinging the
coarsely past my buttocks. Firm hands, cool with sweat, grab the
flailing limbs. By my uncovered ear, I hear, “That is a no-no.”

Gasp. I clench in response, but too late. The head of the phallus is
already past the spinchter. The lubricant steal away what little grip
I had, and whatever it is is now inside my ass. It is cunningly
designed, with a groove near the base (pressing against my previously
warmed cheeks) preventing my natural reflex from expelling it. I bear
down, to no avail.

There is the faint tickle of rope brushing the cheeks, then my hands
are hauled back and down, tied to the attaching rope. I tug and feel a
push within myself, pivoting at the hole. I experiment, forgetting
completely the deep pulses from the front.

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Suddenly, the ear is covered again. My head twists, jerks in vain to
find its lifeline again. I long for even the single touch, for
someone. My desires are answered, in a searing flash on my left
nipple. It throbs in quiet agony as I relish each beat of pleasure,
each pulse of fire. My breathing slows, rythmnic, deep. My nipple is
lightly tugged, slowly twisted, bent double. A squeal, soft and
breathy, follows each of these movements, all the while the chest
a-heaving.

Suddenly, the pressure is snapped away. In response, a loud cry and a
sharp convulsion. That nipple is still tingling when the clamp is
applied to its twin. Slowly, like an evil vise. Knowing better than
to let it rest on only the nub, I try to force it into me. My owner
knows these tricks. The other one received mercy; a generous pinch of
flesh laid within its jaws. This one burned white hot as the jaws came
to rest on the erect, throbbing brown nipple.

Tears welled within my eyes, denied by the tape. I felt the tape start
to lose its hold, the tearing sensation as it parted ways with my
eyelids. Then it stopped. I stil could not open my eyes, and the hood
would admit no light even if I could. In agony, in frustration, in
pain, I thrashed as far as the bonds would let me.

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I try to nudge my head and feel the gentle but firm tug on my scalp.
My hair, my long lucious pride has betrayed me and has joined forces
with what wraps me, holds me, displays me. I hear the blood’s rush in
my ear and this keeps me company. I vow not to count heartbeats, not
to guess or anticipate the time. The temptation is strong. How long
has it been? How much longer until dawn? One… two… three..

Sixt–sensation! The lightest of touches, but something touched me. I
arch my back in a vain attempt to reach someone, something. I feel
nothing nothing more. A sigh escapes my nostril, audible in my inner
ear. That’s it! I can still hear myself, even if I can’t speak. I
wait for another eternity, then count twenty heartbeats, and hum a
moan.

My left ear buzzes with the sound of a thousand scratches. A jet of
cool air rushes to cool my sweat-coated skin. Then a warm, moist
feeling traces some shape. Wet sounds, followed by a sugar-sweet,
playful-cat-sneer voice, “Our little pet is not quiet, is umm? Our
little pet wanna moan, is um?” The tongue flicks in to touch the hairs,
not even the skin. It flicks again, this time at the lobe. Wet,
moist, lovely lips caress the node, tugging gently. The tongue flicks
again. I moan, arch my back and curse my hair.

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I twist, and feel the rope bite into my elbows. I count the heartbeats
throbbing away, fading slowly, softly. If it weren’t for the sound of
blood’s rush in my ears, I would not know if it existed.

My eyes are taped shut, but so long ago that I have come to accept that
my eyes no longer open. I faintly remember my discomfort, my mouth
straining at an object that filled my mouth from within yet still
touched my lips. Once this caused me to salivate uncontrollably, much
to my owner’s dismay. Hanging me by the spreader bar caused the
spittle to back into my mucous membranes, stinging, burning. But my
mouth is now dry, and I have no sensation of fighting an object that
gave yet does not tear.

Occasionally, I would feel the slightest of breezes on my skin, the
most sensitive part, the ones constricted by clothing by day. I know
not what is their cause, nor do I feel them on my face. I hear
nothing, and have heard nothing for an eternity and then some. What
once was warmth, and the soft tendrils of lambswool that encased my
head have become soaked with my sweat, the salty juices of excitment
and anticipation. After time, a concept that now exists only in my
mind, the water and the wool have warmed and now are my skin.

Kinky Bondage Session


Dodds connected the respirator hose to the fitting at Mandy’s mouth,
and the stomach tube to another enema bag on a stand. At last, with a
flick of the switch, the little unit started with a hum, pumping with
an alternating hiss.

Dodds walked back to her supine form and experimentally wiggled each of
the plugs where they were attached to those outlandish looking
breasts. The anonymous but shapely figure within moaned with delight (
or frustration ), but did not move visibly. He looked over the
connections at her mouth, the air hose, the seal of the stomach tube,
the tubing from her rear. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he
began to spread old newspapers around her rigid form and the panel.

This done, he wheeled over the other equipment dolly that had stood
waiting in the corner for this very moment…

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“Ever since I watched your slave Flora suffer this at your hands, I’ve
longed to try it out on you,” Dodds announced softly.

Apparently the ear plugs, covered by the helmet’s thick pads, prevented
her from hearing, for she gave no sign.

When the glue had dried, Dodds guided her backward to the edge of the
slab, positioning her feet with care. He opened his glue can again,
and coated the entire back of her suit with the latex cement. When he
was satisfied with the job, he stood astride her body, and after
threading her enema tube through a small hole, slowly leaned her back
onto the slab.

Moving with care, he firmly pressed each portion of her body against
the layer of glue, permanently bonding her suit to the slab. A few
more touches of glue cemented her arms, hands, even each finger down to
the rigid platform.

For a few moments, he left the room. The distant sound of a car door
slamming was heard… …but within her rubber prison, Mandy heard
nothing. She squirmed a bit, marvelling at the wholly pleasant
sensation of being enveloped in a warm and slippery womb. The dildo
pushed in a bit as she moved, and she tried to encourage it. She found
that she could shift a few inches within the thick rubber suit. This
also had the pleasant effect of massaging her breasts within their
cups. It felt delicious, but it wasn’t quite enough.

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He manhandled her over to her standing bondage rack and
strapped her up to it. For a moment, he admired her exquisite shape.
Although she certainly didn’t have the body of a Cosmo cover girl, the
shiny black latex covering her body made her, in Mr. Dodds eyes, the
ideal woman. Each curve of her body, the long, muscular legs, her
ample hips, was made silky-smooth by the wonderful material. If she
didn’t have the more classic beach beauty figure that Flora sported, it
was of no matter, he preferred his women to look like WOMEN, not
girls.

The additions to the suit gave her a sexier, postmodern look. The
huge, rounded cones of her breasts jutting straight out, and the
mounded cleft between her legs, emphasized her female shape to the
point of caricature. She might be a modern store-window mannequin,
Dodds thought, but one that few window dressers would dare display.

With a sigh, he returned to his work. He got out a large tin of latex
glue and carefully painted-in Mandy’s outline upon the slab. While it
dried, he examined a set of hoses and fittings attached to the
equipment in the corner, handling them lovingly.

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Shortly she was forcibly lowered to the floor, and she felt Dodds’
hands brush her side as he did something around her body. She
shivered, her sense of touch overly sensitive due to her isolated
state. Before long though, she was standing again, only to find
herself being walked over to, and strapped into, the upright rack she
had built herself.

Dodds smiled grimly as he switched on the light. He paused inside the
door, gazing around the room in anticipation. The spraying equipment
stood ready in one corner of the room, the respirator in another. To
one side stood Mandy’s circular bondage board, a motorized, padded
wooden slab to which a slave could be fastened and rotated. He had
already prepared the table on which he would mount his specimen: in the
middle of the floor sat a large platform, tilted on bearings, like a
giant see-saw. A shaft connected under one side disappeared into a
large machine on the floor. The panel was nothing more than a full
sheet of 1″ plywood, over which he had laminated a thick black rubber
sheet with latex cement. He lay Mandy back upon the table, then
carefully chalked her outline on it.

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As she moved, she delighted to feel her suit sliding around her. The
excess oil was too thick and light weight to slosh, but the suit was
somewhat loose on her body, sliding over her skin very sensually as she
walked toward the elevator. She revelled in her aroused state,
deliberately swaying her hips and lengthening her stride. She was
rewarded with many little caresses within her suit. She felt the big
rod macking in the grease, and the little bumps rubbing across her
nipples, grabbing at her labia and searching for her clitoris.

Her heart thumped excitedly as they entered the elevator cage and she
wondered what further devious ideas Dodds had in store. The sexual
feelings she had just experienced were so strong, she knew it would not
take much more before she got off. They dropped like a stone to the
ground floor, then took the stairs to the basement.

The small amount of exercise thus far had already turned her suit into
a mild sauna, the silicone lubricant warming slowly to her body
temperature. She certainly couldn’t feel the slight chill of the
basement. At the foot of the stairs, they turned right, cueing her
that they had headed into the room she often used for enemas or other
watersports, as it had a sink and a floor drain. She had begun to feel
heavy and fuzzy-headed, and she wondered what drug Dodds had given her
this time.