BINDING AGREEMENT, PART VIII
Bonda's puss was on throb overdrive by the time the last of Mistress Sally's
disciples of discipline arrived.
"This is Bonda," the Mistress said as she escorted her tribe before the tied
little tart. "She is in training to become Mr. Ensign's greatest work: ÔBonda,
the Princess of Self-Discipline.'"
The woman laughed and sneered. Bonda gurgled behind her penis gag.
"Master Nick and Tyrenna will release Bonda from her present posture," the
Mistress said, "and bring her back out bathed and naked so you ladies may watch
her undergo her transformation from the buff to total bondage."
Bonda was carried off, unshackled, stripped, showered, and fitted with a clear
plastic, adjustable mouthpiece. The two-piece appliance, hinged on either side
wat the rear and equipped with small but sturdy gears, fit perfectly against
Bonda's upper and lower teeth. Tyrenna had applied a clear gel, much like a
denture creme, to the upper and lower portions, and Bonda felt the cold gel flow
between her teeth and up into her gums. Tyrenna reached deep into Bonda's mouth
and forced her jaws wide apart by separating the plastic pieces. Bonda's jaw
stayed agape after Tyrenna stood back. The gears had locked. Bonda took a deep
breath and felt the cold air race through her mouth, down her windpipe and into
her chest. She could breathe just fine. Then Bonda tried to shut her mouth by
trying to shake the release point of the gears free. There was no chance. All
she succeeded in doing was opening her mouth wider. She blinked.
"Great!" she tried to say out loud. But it came out
"g-g-g-a-a-a-a-t-t-t-t-e-e-e." Bonda wiggled her tongue. She was agog over her
gag. To anyone standing back more than inches from her, it looked like Bonda was
voluntarily holding her mouth open, shaping her lips in a perfectly round "O".
She tried to stick her hands in her mouth, but Tyrenna grabbed her hands and
locked them behind her with thumbcuffs.
Master Nick and Tyrenna each grabbed an arm and escorted Bonda back to the
waiting assembly of dominants. There on the floor was a pile of bondage
appartus, all of clear plastic. Bonda's thumbcuffs were unlocked.
"Ladies," Mistress Sally said, "have at her."
The women picked up the goodies - two clear hard-plastic dildos, clear ruffled
panties, a clear, molded plastic corset with nipple openings and clear arm and
wrist staps on either side, a heavy plastic hood, a molded plastic posture
collar, plastic stockings, 7'' molded plastic knee boots, a clear plastic
neck-to-ankle hobble dress (sleeveless, of course, since Bonda's arms would be
fettered) - and within two minutes Bonda was standing before the group, all
dressed up and bound up, but still exposed everywhere because of the see-through
nature of her garments.
Then came the real torture.
Four of the women grabbed huge, high-powered hot-air blowers, and began to work
their way up and down Bonda's body. The plastic dress melted like shrink wrap
against her body. She literally was wrapped up like a piece of meat. Then
Tyrenna stepped forward, pushed a short breathing tube through an opening in the
plastic hood and half way into Bonda's mouth, and then stood back and the four
women worked on Bonda's head. The plastic shrank around her nose, her eyes, her
cheeks, and her mouth. Her hair bunched up.
When they were through, Bonda looked like a bound blow-up doll, with the
inflation tube poking out of her mouth. She could still breathe, but only
through her mouth. Her vision was distorted by the crinckled contours of the
plastic the held her captive.
"Okay, ladies, it's time to apply your specialties," Mistress Sally told her
girlfriends.
One woman grabbed a quirt, and went behind her finding spots on Bonda's buttocks
to leave her marks. Bonda found herself trying to shuffle forward to avoid the
sting. She minced. An inch at a time. And that wasn't fast enough to stop
another woman from coming in front of her and quickly applying weighted clamps
to each of her well-packed nipples.
The Quirt Lady stopped long enough to allow another Mistress to attach a
two-pronged leash to the nipple clamps.
"We're going to walk a mile in those shoes, Bonda," the Mistress said as she
cranked down a motorized overhead pulley and attached it to the other end of the
leash. "This device will help pace you while Mistress Florine flogs your little
behind."
Bonda didn't know if she was really forced to walk a mile. But she did know she
was forced to walk for hours in a circle, harnessed to a machine, beaten on the
butt by a bitch. Her feet ached. Her butt was bright red. Her sweat poured down
her body. Her panties were soaked.
Finally, it stopped and a figure walked in front of her.
"We're having a ball, Bonda," said Mistress Sally. "How about you?"
Bonda moaned.
"Not yet," Mistress Sally scoffed. "You will."
Bonda stood still as she felt herself lifted into a long plastic bag. It was
pulled up and over her body and over her head. Her breathing tube was pulled
through this layer of plastic and a four-foot extension was attached. A clear
plastic wedge made sure the tube did not slip out of her mouth. Her nipple leash
was detached, but not the clamps or the weights. The bag was tied over Bonda's
head and a clear hard-plastic ring was attached. Once again, the hot-air blowers
went to work. Bonda soon had no movement left. She could barely make out the
clear 8-foot high ball that was rolled toward her. But she clearly felt the
senstation of the ring above her head being pulled by clear plastic braiding to
a ring atop the plastic ball, which had been popped open wide enough to allow
the group to manuever Bonda's bagged form inside. She was lifted up until she
dangled a foot or so off the floor. And then she felt the sensation of another
layer of plastic being wrapped her, from the shoulders to the tip of her boots,
where another hard plastic ring was attached and tied to the bottom of the ball.
Her nipple clamps remained on, and the weights were pulled through openings in
the wrap.
Bonda dangled there, her weights swaying slightly, as the clear plastic air tube
was fitted to an air hole on the side of the ball. Finally, she felt the ring
binds pulled as taut as possible, so that she hung midway between top and
bottom, midway between the two sides. Then the group snapped the ball shut, with
Bonda inside.
For an hour, she just hung there in her sweat, breathing in, breathing out, her
butt on fire, her puss awash in sweat and, perhaps, her own erotic wetness. She
thought her nipples had become numb to the pain.
She was wrong.
She felt the ball begin to tilt. Her body weight shifted to one side. The ball
rolled back to other way and her body weight shifted again. Soon, her body hung
horizontally inside the ball, the weights dangling down from her stretched form.
As the ball was rock slightly, her weights rocked. The sensation of pain
returned to her nipples. But with it came the rush of being bound and toyed with
by so many others.
Bonda learned to roll with the pain and came. But the rocking didn't stop.
Neither did her urges. She rocked left. She rocked right. Left. Right. She
squirmed in her coccoon for any sense of freedom. There was none.
M-m-m-m, she hummed.
And she came.
Then it all stopped again. Bonda hung in there. Face down. Weights dangling.
Puss throbbing.
"Be thankful they didn't decide to roll you down the hall sideways," she thought
to herself. "Those weights would fly all over the place and then thump against
my breasts."
What could be worse?
Water.
That's right.
Water.
Bonda had been bound up now for several hours - longer than any other punishment
- and she thought the women were through.
They weren't.
Her ball-prison was filling with water. She could hear it rush in from the side.
It steadied the ball as it filled. Bonda figured that the ball must have become
air tight when it snapped shut, and marvelled at the genius behind the
technology that left her suspended in this predicament. She guessed the ball
would eventually fill to the top and she would be left inside for at least a few
more hours. She was resigned to that. She sighed.
But then she felt a new senation. The water had reached the tips of her bound
form and it brought her out of her sweaty comfort. This water was cold. No, it
was icy. Br-r-r-r, it was icy. Her sweating form got goose bumps. She started to
shiver and shake.
She could shiver and shake all she wanted. The weight of the water kept the ball
still in its spot.
The water continued to rush in and soon her whole body was submerged. The red in
her butt was gone now. Her whole body was icy blue. Even her clamped nipples.
Even her O-shaped lips.
Bonda didn't feel like a randy little bondage maiden anymore.
She felt like a tightly wrapped fish being frozen for market.
