The Magic of Daphne

Ch. 6

“The bondage gear you’ve shown me so far looks kind of flimsy.  No offense.”  Brad said to the hot adult store clerk.  She was mystified as she had shown him very expensive bondage contraptions.

“These armbinders here have metal reinforcing the latex and padlocked bolts above and below every joint for total immobility.  Everything is double anchored to the clit and tits of your captive to guarantee no struggle and this posture collar can be adjusted to pull her head back 30 degrees.  This is our most expensive item; you can’t possibly doubt the intimidation and quality of this suit.  It’s built like a damn SUV!!”  The hot girl was taking this negotiation a little too seriously.

“Well…hmm, it’s just that, well…”  Brad was methodically looking it up and down.  “She could probably slide her wrists through that strap, arm down that metal sheathe, then use a concealed blade to saw around that load bearing buckle after dislocating her shoulder, and once she got her fingers to those bolts, it would be over.  She wouldn’t even need to pick the locks.  It squeezes her, but it would be better if her spine was completely immobilized and if the tit and clit clamps had a tighter bite and maybe even some teeth and…”

“Is this some kind of put on?  Is this some sick fucking joke?”  Brad had offended the sensibilities of the fetishist saleswoman like he had told her he was a member of Al-Qaeda.  Apparently the very ordinary Brad was already more sexually hardcore than this heavily tattooed, completely pierced clerk.  She briskly walked out of earshot to an older, distinguished looking gentleman at a desk behind the counter.  She looked hot and bothered and was yelling something he couldn’t quite make out.  She pointed his way and the grey haired man looked up and caught his eye.

I should go, Brad thought.  They’re acting like I’m a serial killer or something and might call the cops.  He looked at his watch and was thinking he needed to get home if/when Daphne freed herself.

Daphne was still completely entombed in bondage and felt her mind drifting to an unconscious world where strange thoughts and random images were floating by her in a dream.  She reflected on how she tried to live a life of secrecy and trusted no one.  Even as a child, she was always disappointed with those she let into her private circle.  It was like yesterday she saw her devoutly religious father cheating on her mother but was too afraid to tell anyone.  She remembered how she caught her older brothers in her room and reading her diary and her elementary school best friend picking on her when the ‘cool’ kids came around.

Worse though was her distrust of people after becoming a worldwide celebrity.  Men were always after her money and pseudo-celebrities were trying to get with her to improve their careers.  Hired help were getting paid off to rummage through her house to photograph prototype magic devices or blueprints for future acts.  Maybe worst of all was how sexually private she is but she felt pressured to do Playboy, make out in public, or let the few boyfriends she had bring cameras into the bed room.  She knew very well that those images would get out and unlike most celebrities, she did not want the world to see.

She was having horrible flashbacks of her last boyfriend, the one it took her two years to recover from before she let Brad into her life.  She thought he was the greatest guy alive and he was charismatic and charming and romantic.  He had swept her off her feet after a mutual friend had introduced them to each other.  And two months of their fantasy relationship had passed when she finally accepted his offer to follow him into the bedroom of his post-modern Manhattan condo.  She was so horny from denying herself for so long.

They started soft and slowly with him peeling off her clothes and then him exposing his big, strong hairy chest to her.  He laid her down on his silk sheets and she laughed as he removed her final article, her panties, with his teeth.  She couldn’t stand it anymore and they madly groped each other and threw the delicate dance of romance aside for a cardio workout style fuck.  They couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

To her surprise, he separated himself for a brief moment and pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a drawer arms length away.  But these were no ordinary handcuffs; they were Saf-Lok MK 4s which Daphne, an expert on restraints, knew to be very expensive and very high quality.  She looked a little apprehensive, but without missing a beat her boyfriend shifted her mind back to the foreplay as he was squeezing her breast while pushing her back against the unusually tall, steel headboard.

“Baby you’ll like this,” he said as he pulled her wrists high above her head with one hand, using the other to finger her clit while using his tongue to lick her tits.  She was up for anything at that point.  He then, like a well rehearsed Don Juan, cuffed her left wrist, fed the other bracelet through the decorative metal piece atop the headboard and locked her other wrist to it as tightly as possible, having to pull her whole body up to do it.  Her arms were stretched so high above her that it was already becoming painful.  It must have been a beautiful site to see her ribs jutting through her milky white skin and her perfect breast pointing to the ceiling.

She found herself squatting on her toes to relieve some tension on her shoulders.  He lathered her humming body, including the inside of her pussy, with something like cocoa butter and she was slippery and shiny and felt sexy all over.  She knew he was getting a breathtaking view of every contour of every muscle and he kept complimenting her to the point that she was in full blush.  She should have known something was wrong when he reached over to the same drawer, pulled out a key and proceeded to double lock the distinctly solid and heavy handcuffs.  But, a doubt had not even crept into her mind.

After more groping and sweet words he pulled out very professional ankle cuffs with a long chain attached.  He cuffed one leg and then threaded it through consecutive bars at the base of the headboard and then cuffed the other end to the other foot.  She was still squatting on the bed supported by the tips of her toes, while her bent legs were splayed wide open, but now her butt was pressing firmly against the headboard.  Her quads and thighs were now quivering as they fought to keep her body weight off her wrists and the body grease was letting her man make out every detail of every muscle’s rhythmic dance.  With her legs bound, she could no longer reposition to rest one leg at a time.  Her Don Juan then proceeded to double lock the ankle cuffs.  “You are so cruel!” she said with a smile.

“You’re beautiful, you’re precious,” he was saying as he carefully outlined every angle of her swollen pussy with his fingers.  Stranger so, he proceeded to take out a brush to perfectly style practically every strand of her hair and used a towel to pat down some excess moisture from her face.  Next he took out a ball gag and danced the ball over her mouth, which she instinctively licked.  She had rarely seen them, but was so turned on and taken by his magic that she let him padlock it in place without any movement of protest.  He slowly kissed her cheek and then the other side of the gag. 

Don Juan pulled something else from the drawer, something that looked like two clips linked by a chain.  “This is going to be intense but you’ll love it.  Trust me.”  He went to her clit without any shyness and just clipped the alligator clip to the front of her nub.  She moaned into the gag and felt lightheaded, but before she could react he pushed her down into maximum squat, putting severe tension on her arms and knees.  He looped the chain of the clit clip under a horizontal bar at the base of the headboard and then back up to her clit to clamp the posterior of her clit while the chain was in full tension.

The pain was horrendous and she was forced to stay at a maximum squat to keep her clit from being pulled hard by the chain.  Her hamstrings and quads were now shaking violently and Daphne was trying to will her muscles to relax because the shaking was being transmitted to her clit.  Every time her body reacted to his repeated fondling, she would painfully stretch out her double clamped clit and she could tell he was trying to provoke such a reaction so he could see her squirm.  Her taught arms were bothering her but whenever she tried to sit up and relax, she would be reminded of the clit bondage. 

This basic design Daphne knew well was called a ‘double bind.’  One movement to relieve pain would cause pain somewhere else resulting in the person oscillating in torture.  In an effort to expand her escape act, she always tried to add double bind escapes particularly for finales, but never had she seen one so wicked and unexpected.  She was a little impressed with its ingeniousness but desperately wondered how long this foreplay was going to last.  As the seconds ticked by, her legs were shaking with greater violence.  Her boyfriend topped it all off with nipple clamps which were almost as painful as her clit’s.

“You are perfect baby.  I wish you could see yourself right now…well maybe you will.”  He let out a mysterious chuckle.  She closed her eyes and tried to focus on his suave, soothing accented voice.  “Only someone like you can stay like this for so long and please me so.”  He then pulled out a small screwdriver (the kind you see in eyeglass repair kits) and tightened the tension on the adjustable clit clamps.  At the time it seemed just cruel and weird but in retrospect she thought maybe Don Juan knew her well to think she might successfully pull out the clit clamps by lifting up her body, tolerate the pain using her renowned willpower and give herself enough mobility to escape.  Now with the new tightness, the only way to yank out her sex was to leave pieces of her clit behind.  That was beyond her mental capabilities, though if she didn’t focus on controlling the spasms, this might accidentally become a reality.

The boyfriend finger fucked her bouncing body a bit and licked her stretched out clit.  It looked three times its normal length and started to discolor.  Her mind was totally swimming in the moment and she was starting to feel less concerned about her well being and more into pleasing her maestro.  “You are sooo good!”  He shouted.  “The sexiest woman in the world and my lover.  You must always remember that I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you.”  That sounded a bit strange, she thought, but she believed him.  Daphne’s breathing was becoming ragged. 

Then he did something really shocking, he got off the bed and walked away. 

She moaned into her gag, trying to alert him.  He went to the other side of the large master bedroom and pulled out what looked like photography lights from behind the window curtains.  He pulled a tripod and camera case out from under her bed.  He began to set things up methodically and swiftly.  ‘What the hell is going on’ she wondered.

Her maestro was measuring light levels, setting up diffusers, patting sweat from her head and styling her body to the last detail.  He spent less attention to her escalating hell and more on what looked to be a professional photo shoot.  She was starting to sense that her man was avoiding eye contact and looked like he felt very guilty.  It was becoming obvious to her that this man was anticipating a gigantic payday with these pictures and now she was swearing at him through the gag.

Don Juan had an educated guess as to a few of the words.  “Come on Daphne, you know I love you more than any woman I’ve ever been with.  Can’t you just be happy for me and feel good about the great boost to your career these pictures will make when they get out there.  And you look so unbelievably sexy right now.  I promise I will split the money with you.  It’s in the millions baby, the millions!”

The hot lights were making the suffering much worse.  She knew the inherent value of the pics as they would show a confident female superstar as a helpless painslut.  She would never forgive him if he found a way to succeed in this because it would shatter the larger than life image that she spent her career cultivating.  But, already she could never forgive him for this breach of sacred trust.

“Shit!”  She heard him say.  “The damn strobe burnt out.  Stay right there woman and I’ll be right back.”  He flashed her a little smile as he was starting to feel more comfortable in his personal conquest.  She moaned, hoping her now ex-boyfriend would undo her clamps before he left.  He didn’t even look back.

For Daphne, she knew this was her only window of opportunity to consider escape as she knew her legs would soon completely give out in fatigue and Don Juan was out of visual range.  Using the minimal slack she had, she explored the space with her feet, inching her legs ever so slightly behind her.  This of course resulted in greater strains.

Daphne was feeling the cold, brass vertical bars of the headboard beneath the tips of her feet and noticing each bar was a separate piece of the structure by their slight freedom of movement.  She was excited to find that behind each bar was an exposed nut where they were secured.  Although they were likely machine tightened, it didn’t stop Daphne from squeezing the metal nut between her strong toes and using her whole body to torque it loose.  However, she was having to tolerate far greater clit pain in order to achieve this.

Once she felt the first nut come free and heard it plop on the floor behind the bed, she tested the bar and could sense it was still attached by a bolt so high on the headboard, that she would never be able to reach it.  Fortunately, the bottom bolt allowed enough freedom for the bar to lift up which left a space beneath it for the chain to just pass.  She did this for about three bars, with each bar conquered giving Daphne more slack for her legs until her right leg was free enough for her foot to lift up and touch her pussy.

It was at that time she heard her EX-boyfriend walking down the corridor to his bedroom.  She quickly separated her legs and held taught to give the impression the leg chain was still rapped around the bars.  He popped his head in and saw she was still helpless.  “Good girl.”  He said patronizingly like she was his slave pet. 

Daphne was lucky that he was a ‘breast man’ as he walked over to them without looking down at her legs.  He removed the tit clamps and massaged her painful tits.  He groped her perfect breasts and rubbed his face and coarse five-o’clock shadow into them.  “I love you, I love you, I love you!”  He sang musically.  It almost made her feel brief submission for him.  But this was Daphne; she was no man’s gimp.  She pulled away and glared angrily.  She had no problem submitting to a man, but would never have her dignity taken from her as this dick was attempting to do.

“OK bitch, you want to pretend you don’t have feelings for me?  You are too good to play games with me like you whore yourself out to millions of people on stage and TV?  You make me wait months before I can see you naked.  You’re going to whore yourself to me and this camera tonight bitch!”  That was no way to talk to or treat a lady, she thought.  He must have her confused with some imaginary Amazing Daphne he concocted in his mind who was a total slut, a pain slut and submissive.  He had not earned any of the things he was trying to take from her.  Selling explicit photos of her against her will for one thing was ‘hampering’ the relationship.  He was going to get his.

Don Juan went to his desk and took four small rubber bands from a drawer.  He stretched them to their limits to get the first two over each breast to the very back, at the fragile tissue which connected her boobs to her chest.  He put the next two rubber bands half way forward on each breast.  Her breasts were now being painfully squeezed and they were quickly turning red.  He suddenly reapplied the clamps and tightened them with the small screw driver.  The pain was intense to her engorging breasts but she looked straight at his face as if to say ‘I’m going to get you.’

“Daphne, you seem to be taking this so well that I’ll just take my time looking for my missing bulb replacement.”  It took all her effort to keep her legs spread and taught instead of trying to kick him or squeeze him.  Of course she didn’t want to let him know she was making progress in her escape.

As soon as he left again, Daphne allowed herself to moan and show the tortured emotions she hid from her captor.  She briefly looked down at her heaving, suffering chest which no longer appeared to be part of her body.  She then moved her legs, with their now greater slack, to her pussy stupidly trying to pull herself free of the clit clamps.  That was a mistake as she was racked with terrible aches that seemed to cut at her from deep inside.  She realized that if the clamps could not be undone without a little screwdriver or permanently injuring her pussy, then the bar the chain was connected to would have to go.

She began undoing as many bolts that held the horizontal bar at the base of the headboard, with her feet.  She needed to stretch her legs extremely wide to reach the farthest of the bolts.  She was practically doing the splits, to the dismay of her bruised wrists.  All Daphne could think of was his look of surprise when he finds her free and inflicting a permanent injury to her ex-lover.

Once the base bar her clit chain was attached to was completely liberated of screws and bolts, she found she could slide the whole thing out as it wasn’t deeply secured to the structure.  So like Don Juan to have sturdy and impressive looking furniture on the surface that were flimsy and deeply flawed upon closer inspection.  Daphne carefully allowed the horizontal bar to drop without making much noise and was now able to elevate herself as the clit chain was no longer anchored but had to remain somewhat crouched as her secured hands above essentially pinned her whole body down.  Her legs were also free of the headboard and now she stretched them towards the nightstand she saw him put the keys into.  ‘Damn, it was too far out of reach.’

Daphne realized she would have to free herself of the maximally secure Saf-Lok MK 4 handcuffs to escape and would have to pick them only by feel with her hands high above her head.  This would be as difficult as anything she had ever done.  However, what most people don’t know about Daphne is that she not only keeps her lock pick set on her at all times, they are literally ‘at hand.’

Beneath each of Daphne’s elegantly polished nails lies a different tool, long ago surgically embedded after her true nails were purposefully removed.  These fake nails retract in a somewhat gruesome appearing yet painless manner to reveal a tool.  The synthetic nails though are still short enough, tough enough and specially suited for picking out knots in rope.  Her whole body is just one ingeniously designed, perfect masterpiece for escape artistry.  Daphne had long ago decided she would be the best at all costs.

Daphne felt for a keyhole on the cuffs.  Not surprisingly, her thumb was the only finger that could reach it.  She pressed her thumbnail against the steel to retract it and expose the tool beneath: a dual pronged tool best suited for turning the primary locking mechanism of most any standard lock.  This was no typical lock in that the cylinders were deep inside and required exquisite manipulation to release.

The master escape artist was in deep focus as she could feel the tumblers of the lock lining up using small corrections.  She must be a little off because when she twisted her thumb to unlock, she was met with resistance.  Daphne was sweating as she could hear Don Juan opening cabinets and singing to himself far away and her still shaking body was causing her to fumble with the lock and even once causing her to undo what she had so far accomplished.

Her breasts were too numb to feel the splash of her saliva dripping from around her gag to her bloodshot globes.  She watched as the lock sprung loose just like she had been visualizing it moments before.  Daphne suddenly sprung into action, whipping her muscular arms free of the impressive headpiece that had once held the cuffs.  She was now free to open the drawer and undo the cuff that was still on the other hand and the long ankle cuffs. 

She never forgot the array of torture implements she saw in that drawer that this jerk was waiting to use on her.  What she also never forgot was that mixed with her repulsion was a flash, only just a millisecond of curiosity as to how some of those sex toys would feel and what it would be like to be his permanent prisoner in his meticulous modern art fortress.  ‘Not today’ she said to herself as she was hurrying to find things to use as weapons.

With no time to painstakingly unscrew them, Daphne put her clothes on over the tit and clit clamps, pausing only to snap off the rubber bands on her breasts that left deep marks and to tear through the straps of the gag with a blade she had under her fingernail.  It was excruciating to feel her boobs once again circulate blood and to move her aching jaw.  She then grabbed a tripod like a baseball bat and held it over her head.  Although well versed in Jujitsu and Krav Maga, she knew a swift, metallic blow to his head and stomach would be most satisfying. 

As she heard him walking down the hallway, she had a last second thought about what a legal battle/media circus it would be if she maimed him (even in self defense).  Instead she bolted down the corridor, executed a perfect take-down on a very surprised Don Juan and exited the front door.  She drove 100 mph in her Corvette to the hotel and was so pumped with adrenaline, she forgot about the tit and clit clamps.  Only once in the lobby did the horrible pains return and she was starting to get the feeling that she would get permanent damage to her body.  She moved passed the autograph seekers like she was running a gauntlet until she breathlessly entered her peaceful room, locked the door behind her and stripped.  She used one of her lock picks to unscrew the clamps and remove them.  Her wrists, clit and tits looked horrible and she took a month hiatus to psychologically and physically recover.  Almost every day Don Juan called her that month, and each time she never picked up.  He lacked the guts to leave a message or maybe he thought it would be incriminating evidence to apologize on record.

Daphne did not divulge the incident to anyone and Don Juan never approached her again.