Cemented

M+F+/f, consensual, S/M, hair,

Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.

Although there is discussion of a snuff film in the story, this is NOT a snuff story. If you need to be reassured, go to the last part of the story and you will find the heroine riding off to new and better adventures. The author is well aware that some folks really don't like snuff (personally, I think it is a waste) and so I am going to extra lengths to appeal to your curiosity.

Cemented Chapter 7

In this chapter, Valerie faces another of her death scenes. Will it be the end? Read on.

Valerie was not put to any efforts for four days after her crucifixion. The wounds in her hands and feet were cleaned and stitched closed, and in that period had healed a great deal. Her stamina returned as well. Strange to her, she had no contact with the Group during the healing time. Her maid changed her bandages and checked her wounds each day but that was the extent of her contact with anybody except when her meals were delivered.

On the fourth day, her maid invited her to stand. She winced, but found she could indeed put her weight on her feet. Her maid then fitted her with a special pair of high heeled boots. When Valerie objected to high heels, the maid told her, “Valerie, you are very used to wearing high heels. It would be stressful to your feet to go flat now. See, the heel is a modest three inches.”

Valerie extended her foot and the maid drew nylons up her legs and then the boots were laced on. When she stood again, she had to admit the boots were easier to stand in than in her bare feet. Her maid then helped her into a leather, corset like garment that came up over her tits but which had cut-outs for her nipples. Very quickly, she was laced in.

“Would you like gloves and hood?” the maid asked.

Valerie thought a moment and then said, “Both.” And very quickly, the opera length gloves were drawn up her arms to her arm-pits and then the hood was on her. “Ah, no gag, at least right now.”

And there she stood, four days after being nailed to a cross for several hours (she still didn't know the exact amount of time) on her feet in her fetish garb. She walked around her suite, slowly at first, but then with purpose. Along the way, she lighted a cigarette. She looked at herself in the mirror and wondered about when this would all end. She readily admitted it had been a great time, much better than she would have imagined. She was sad that she hadn't learned all these things about herself earlier, but she would not attempt to welch on her deal.

Unbeknownst to Valerie, the Group was then meeting. They had agreed that Valerie had presented them with much more than the amusement they had sought. Indeed, what they had received for their monetary arrangements far exceeded their hopes. Of course, once Valerie had delivered herself to them, they could have easily reneged on the money but they were honorable people and would not have thought of cheating Valerie out of such a piddling amount. Nevertheless, the Group was planning her demise. Just as much as she, they too needed a rest for their libidos had been stretched for the several days Valerie had been with them. It was agreed that the next episode would be the last episode.

Valerie, of course, was unaware of the Group's plans but she was aware that what she now had would end, probably sooner than later.

The death episode had to be very carefully planned. First of all, like all the previous events, it had to be filmed. That had been the whole purpose of the exercise and, while they had great footage of Valerie being buried alive, crucified, whipped, dunked in a vat of shit, and all the other things, they wanted to be true to their purpose. Secondly, if somehow, her death was found out, there could be no way blame, or even any connection, could come back to them. Her body clearly documented that she been badly treated and there were whip marks and her hand and foot wounds. Well, they couldn't un-do the wounds and it just wasn't feasible to keep her until everything healed. The alternative then was to make the final episode such that her body would be more heavily marked than she had endured to date. How?

Well, they had additional property down river where there was a series of rapids with sharp, cutting rocks. That satisfied the marking of her body, but it seemed anti-climatic to simply throw her into the river and wave bye bye. Ultimately, they settled on a form of the dunking stool used to detect witchcraft. She would be secured in a heavy, metal chair. The heavy chair would be at one end of a long pole capable of supporting her weight. By balancing the beam on a fulcrum, the chair (with her strapped to it) could be lifted up and then swung out over the river, and then the chair could be lowered and raised to dunk her. They could vary the amount of time she stayed under so that she could demonstrate some distress, and ultimately, they just wouldn't lift her out of the water. Subsequently, they would recover the body and then throw it into the river to allow the rocks to have their will with her body. Chances were excellent that she'd never be found, but if she was, the river would have hidden all signs of her rough treatment and she'd just be considered a drowning victim.

The next day, Valerie again found no clothes so she surmised she was to appear nude again. She was bored with the healing routine. Her hands and feet were fine and the whip marks on her back had faded to barely perceptible lines. Down she went. She was surprised for the Group today was only six.

Breakfast was a gala affair with champagne and a heavily laden table. There was much chattering. Valerie didn't notice that while everyone had loaded their plates, the Group didn't seem to be eating much. She enjoyed herself. The absence of one of the members of the Group was explained that an emergency had come up that only he could attend to. She suspected it might have been the doctor person but she couldn't be sure.

After the dishes were cleared away and smoking had begun, one of the Group's men said to Valerie, “Today, we are going to see if you are a witch.”

This led Valerie to smile because she knew what he meant. “So, it's the dunking chair today? Well, I suppose I could do with another bath. When do we start?”

“Right now,” was the reply and the Group members were just a fraction of second faster, rising to their feet. They all piled into two SUV's and drove off.

“We aren't going to use the river?” Valerie asked.

There was only a grunt of a reply and Valerie experienced her first stab of trepidation, but said nothing more. The other property was only a short distance and equally secluded. As they walked along towards the river, a muffled roar began to increase until they cleared the woods near the river. The rapids gave the river an entirely different appearance than the placid water at the other location. This scared Valerie all the more, but she was resolved not to give vent to her apprehension. She rationalized that this day had been bound to come.

Very quickly, she was secured to the chair with ropes above and below her boobs, at her wrists and upper arms, thighs and ankles. Then, the four men present bore down on their end of the pole and lifted Valerie off the ground. Very swiftly, her chair was swung out over the river. She had no sooner stopped swinging when down she went into the churning water. She hadn't readied herself and swallowed a bit of water which brought on a coughing spasm when she was lifted out of the water. They waited until she had stopped coughing before lowering her into the water a second time. This time she was prepared, and had no trouble. She smiled at them when she was raised up.

The smile was a shock to all. They understood that somehow she had figured out that this would be the end of her. And she was lowered again.

But this time down, she got a surprise – there was someone there! A figure in a wet suit appeared right in front of her and held a finger to the face plate of the tube in the mouth to indicate to say nothing. This figure (she couldn't tell if it was male or female) then began to use a small cutter to work on strands of the ropes holding her. The rope wasn't being cut at once; rather, the ropes were being cut strand by strand so that the rope would appear to have snapped. Before the figure had finished, she was yanked to the surface again. She had been down longer than before and needed to clear her nose.

What was going on, she wondered. The Group clearly intended to end her life here, but this rubber suit person was trying to release her from the chair and, presumably, save her. The question was: did she want to be saved. Eventually, she concluded that she would accept saving if it happened. The Group was responsible for her predicament now, and if they had failed to properly secure her, that was their problem. What she might do if she didn't die today she put aside to consider if and when.

Two more dunkings occurred. Each time the rubber suit frayed the ropes more. Finally, with the light fading, the men lowered Valerie and walked away from the boom. It came to Valerie that this was it, she wasn't coming up, at least on the chair. The rubber suit quickly released her from her ropes, transferred the breathing tube to her mouth, and then pulled her away from the chair. They had to swim under water quite a distance before they'd be out of sight of the Group, but Valerie, a strong swimmer, helped herself a great deal. At last they entered some weeds along the far shore and surfaced just enough to get a breath. The rubber suit then became clear to her as a man, but not someone she knew. He gave her a tube and together they sank below the surface and stayed there a couple hours to make sure the Group had left. Besides, her personal attitude had changed considerably: even though this man had rescued her from death, she figured she didn't owe him a thing – she hadn't asked him to do what he had done. What he had done had been his own doing and for his benefit.

Meanwhile, the Group had hoisted the chair. When they saw she was no longer in the chair, they brought it quickly to shore. They looked at the frayed ropes and wondered, but it was easy to convince them the water had caused it. They did take time to walk downstream on the river bank to see if she might have been carried to shore. After a mile, after the end of the rapids, they stood and stared at the river, and concluded that Valerie was no more. They thought her body might wash up but even that did not concern them. They trudged back to the SUV's, dismantled the camera equipment and left.

It was full dark when Valerie and the rubber man climbed up out of the river on the opposite bank. He led her inland a few paces where there were towels and some clothing. Valerie had not worn clothes, other than leather of some sort, since she had arrived in the company of the Group, and she was pleased to see that this pile for her was no different, including lace up, high-heeled boots.

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?” he replied.

“Oh, shit, you know fucking well what – save me.”

“Oh, that,” he said smiling, removing the air tanks from his back. “Well, I thought you might be a nice friend.”

She stared at him, but the anger was clear in her face.

“Okay, Valerie, I was one of the men who abused you these past several days. When we planned your death scene yesterday, I decided to save you for myself.”

Nodding, Valerie said, “Okay, so now I'm yours? To do with as you will?”

“Well, that could be one explanation, but I hope you might think of others. Actually, of the Group, I'm the only one not married. My ex wanted no part of leather and rubber and bondage and all that, so we divorced several years ago. I've been looking for the ideal mate ever since, and I think I've found her.”

“Me?” Valerie said, “well, I won't thank you for saving me – that was your decision. I will not be your slave. The last several days have introduced me to a new me – and I will be independent.”

“Fair enough. Shall we go to someplace more private?” He led the way to two motorcycles. She laughed. They each climbed onto a bike and roared away.

Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at: belted1@verizon.net

Comments and criticism are welcome.