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BOOK 1

 

Chapter 9

 

      Connie took off her maid’s uniform and laid it on the bed.  She had been completely naked beneath it.  She was now completely naked except for her shoes.  Traci looked at the bed.  “Am I going to sleep in here?”  “If you play your cards right, you’ll sleep with me” Connie replied.  She got up on a strange shaped piece of furniture.  “This is a spanking bench, but since Mr. Proctor isn’t really into that, we use it for bondage.  Don’t get any ideas once you have me secured to it and helpless” she said with a smile.  “As a matter of fact, I need to make sure that you stay put.”  She put her keys in a drawer in the cabinet, shut it, and locked it with a combination lock, spinning the dial dramatically.  She picked up a long chain, two padlocks, and a thick collar, and handed them to Traci.  “Use on padlock to lock the collar on and to the chain.  Use the other one to secure the opposite end of the chain to that ring in the floor.  I don’t want you to get any ideas about wandering the house after you have me tied down.   I really should gag you too.  Do you have a preference?”  “My preference would be no gag at all, but if I have to wear one, I guess a ballgag would be the easiest.”  Connie dug through the cabinet and pulled out a harness ballgag like Beth had been wearing, except the ball was red, and it had no hole.  “I said a ballgag” Traci complained, “Not that thing.”  “This is a ball” Connie explained, pointing to the red rubber ball.  “It keeps you quiet, therefore it is a gag.  I just need to use one that I’m sure you won’t be able to get off without my help.”  Connie waited until Traci had tethered herself with the chain, and then silenced her securely. 

     Traci didn’t like the ballgag harness, not that she liked a regular ballgag either.  The chin strap kept her biting down on the ball, making it tough to shift it around in her mouth even a little.  The small padlock on each buckle made sure it would stay that way.  She made her displeasure known to Connie with a few muted protests.  “Here we go” Connie told her, getting back up on the whipping bench.  It looked like some sort of bizarre piece of ergonomic furniture.  Connie positioned herself properly.  Her torso was supported by a flat board that was padded and covered in black leather.  It was just a little wider than her body, and reached from just under her chin, to where she bent forward from the waist.  Her upper body was at about a forty-five degree angle to her kneeling legs.  Her breasts went through two holes that had been cut in the middle of the board.  The lower part had the same black leather padded surface, but it was merely six inch wide supports for her knees and legs.  They angled outward sharply, almost parallel to the backboard.  When she got herself settled in place, she was in an odd doggie style position with here knees splayed wide.  Traci could she juices already forming on her exposed bald pussy.  “Do my legs first” Connie instructed.  Traci started buckling the two inch wide leather straps.  They had rollers on the buckles, so they could really be cinched down securely.  “Do me really tight” Connie ordered, and Traci complied.  Each time she tightened a strap, Connie’s limb would sink into the padding until there was no more give.  When she was finished, Connie had a strap around each thigh, above and below her bent knees, around both calves, and another on each ankle.  Her feet dangled over the edge of the footrests, and another strap went around her the insole of her foot, just below the high heel of her shoe, keeping her foot pinned at a ninety degree angle to her ankle.  Connie attempted to move her legs.  “This is great!” She exclaimed.  She could barely move any part of her legs more than a fraction of an inch.  Traci wondered why the bench held Connie’s legs splayed so widely if it was made for whipping.  She figured it out, and a shudder ran through her, goose bumps popping up on her skin.  “It’s so the genitals can be whipped without the victim having any chance of closing their legs and covering them.”  She came around the front, and Connie peered of the edge at her over the top of the bench.  “It’s the same thing with the breasts.  No way to keep them away from the lash of the whip.”  A padded, half inch wide steel bar ran above and below where Connie’s breasts protruded from the bench.  Three thick, threaded screws connected the two bars, one on either side of her breasts, and one in between.  A handle could be turned to bring the bars closer together and tighten them down on the base of the breasts.  Traci reached for the handle.  “Don’t do that yet” Connie instructed.  “It’s really uncomfortable and if you do it now, I’m liable to chicken out and talk you out of it.  Get me all strapped down and gagged before you do my tits.  Then I won’t have a choice.”  Traci nodded, and set to tightening up the remaining straps.  One went around Connie’s waist, contouring her body to the bench.  A second went across the middle of her back, and a third over her upper back, just below her armpits.  Her arms hung down against the legs of the bench.  These too were padded and covered in straps.  One went over each arm, just below the shoulder, above and below her elbow, at the forearm, and wrist.  When Traci was finished, Connie attempted to struggle, but failed.  Her entire body was immobilized.  The only things she could now move were her head and her fingers.  “Do it quick” Connie ordered “I really hate that thing.”  Traci could see why as she picked up the gag.  Connie had called it a butterfly gag.  She could see the resemblance.  The mouth piece was made of black rubber.  It was inflatable with a circular center and two rounded sides that resembled the wings of a butterfly.  It had a pump bulb inflator attached to it by a thin rubber hose.  A push button  valve could be used to release the air, or keep it trapped in side the gag.  The gag part was attached to a three inch wide, black leather strap.  Traci inserted it in Connie’s mouth as she had been instructed to do.  The center went into her mouth, and the wings went into her cheeks in between her lips and teeth.  It was a tight fit to get the sides inserted.  Once she had accomplished that, she gave the bulb three quick pumps.  She knew that the gag was expanding, totally filling Connie’s mouth and trapping her tongue.  Her lips and cheeks bulged out slightly as the air began to fill the rubber wings.  They went all the way back to her molars.  Traci looked into Connie’s eyes.  They looked almost blue now, and very apprehensive.  Connie nodded her head.  Traci pulled the gag strap securely over Connie’s face and buckled it behind her head.  Connie nodded at Traci again, and she pumped the bulb twice more.  Connie’s cheeks bulged out even more, seeming to fight against the imprisoning straps.  Traci locked the valve and removed the bulb and hose.  The air was locked inside the gag.  Connie let out a quiet whimper. 

     Traci help up the hood that Connie had selected, but she shook her head and nodded towards her breasts.  Traci turned the crank slowly and the bars started to close over the base of her breasts.  Connie had instructed her not to crush them, but she wanted it tight.  Traci was wondering when to stop.  Her eyes darted back and forth between Connie’s swelling breast, and her eyes.  Finally Connie nodded.  Traci stopped, and then on impulse, turned the crank another quarter turn.  Connie’s eyes went wide, and a muffled whimper came from behind the gag.  Traci pointed to the harness ballgag she wore, and then to Connie’s breasts.  “I’m probably going to pay for that one later.”  She picked up the nipple clamps, and twirled them in front of Connie’s face.  They were connected by a chain, and adjustable.  The ends were covered with plastic, and a screw could be turned to allow the clamp to close as much as you wanted.  The more you loosened the screw, the more the jaws could close.  Traci teased Connie’s nipples until they were fully erect, and then attached the clamps.  She adjusted them until she thought they were secure.  Connie winced a little.  She then picked up the weight that Connie had chosen.  It looked like a large tear drop shaped fishing sinker with a hook at one end.  It was made of lead, and quite heavy.  Holding it in front of Connie’s face, she got the nod.  Hanging it from the middle of the chain, she slowly removed her hand and let the clamps take the weight.  It swayed back and forth on the chain for a moment, and then the clamp pulled off Connie’s right breast.  Connie shrieked around the wad of rubber in her mouth, but it came out as a mew.  Traci watched the weight.  It seemed to be almost moving in slow motion.  When it reached the end of the slack that the loose clamp had given it, it jerked the clamp off the other nipple, and the clamps and weight clattered to the floor.  Connie let out a groan, deep in her throat.  Traci looked at her.  Connie’s eyes were watering, but she nodded again.  Traci picked up the clamps and weight, separated them, and put the weight into Connie’s left hand.  She set about re-attaching the clamps.  When she had finished, Connie’s little pink buds were crushed between the jaws of the clamps, and the weight hung in between, swaying back and forth slightly. 

     Traci picked up the hood and arranged it on Connie’s head, before lacing it tightly down the back.  The hood was thick black leather with no eyeholes.  The stem on Connie’s gag protruded through the mouth hole.  Short plastic tubes that were attached to the hood went up here nose to insure that her oxygen wouldn’t be cut off.  She picked up the last item of restraint that Connie had picked out.  It was called a posture collar.  It was six inches tall, except in front where it tapered down to fit under her chin.  It was made of black leather and very stiff.  Carefully lifting her head, Traci fit the collar on her, and then closed the three buckles that held it tightly around Connie’s neck.  Now her head was forced to face straight forward.  The chin cup held her head up, and she could not move it from side to side at all. 

     Traci stepped back and admired her handiwork.  Connie just lay there submissively.  If she was trying to struggle, Traci couldn’t tell.  She would find out just how much she could really move in a minute.

 

     If you’ve enjoyed this story so far, please let me know.   Feedback is requested and greatly appreciated, as are suggestions for the plots and characters of future story segments.  You can contact my by email at WSoxWinYes@Yahoo.com.  Thanks for your support!  I look forward to hearing from you.