Chapter Eight
Ash was exactly right in that whatever secret agendas I might have, I knew they
would have to stay secret. Which meant absolute obedience. I came to that
conclusion very quickly as the pain in the various parts of my body went on and
one. The load on my wrists stretched my arms and after the first hour made my
shoulders seem like they were about to be torn apart at the sockets. My neck
ached with the need to constantly lift my head so as to keep my nose clear of
the drool that leaked around the rubber ball, and to allow passage for the tears
that regularly rolled down my cheeks. My ankles likewise bore the burden of my
weight, but the pain there subsided into something relatively bearable compared
to the fire that burned in the soles of my feet.
But these limb torments were as nothing to the one that pulled at my poor
nipples and the lips of my pussy due to the terrible lead ball supported by all
four clamps. I could see the instrument of my torture hanging beneath my
stomach, whenever I let my head drop - a reminder from Ash of the folly of
disobeying the person who held such power over my life.
I alternated my tears with a whimpering keening sound, eventually focussing on a
spot on the concrete floor such that the pain began to recede. Whether this was
real or not I don't know. I tried to concentrate on this spot to the exclusion
of all other things, to take myself into Subspace where the pain would lessen
and my body would cease to be the receptor of such sensations. It was like
trying to empty your head of all thoughts - something I had always found
difficult. This time I think I managed it, and I found myself in a strange
twilight world where Jan Sherwood ceased to exist and my surroundings dissolved
into a haze of nebulous shapes and sensations. The silence was broken only by
the ragged sound of my breathing, interspersed with snuffling and inhaling as I
sought to clear my nose.
Time had stopped, as had my thought processes, when the steel door swung open
again and Ash returned to survey my form slumped in the suspension ropes in the
centre of the room.
The return of an outside influence brought me back to reality with a physical
jolt, much like those strange spasms that you occasionally get when you're
almost asleep. The nature of it brought the pain flooding back and I knew I
could not return to Subspace again. I cried piteously, moaning and drooling
further.
"And how are we now, Jan?" A moaned response. "Have we learned our lesson?"
Pathetic nodding of head. He stood beside me and stretched out his foot, the
toe of his shoe flicking the lead weight hanging half a metre below my stomach.
My moans went up an octave as the renewed pain shot through my tortured nipples
and pussy. There followed a light touch on the still smarting soles of my feet.
I jerked and tried to writhe within my bonds but the strain in my extended limbs
was too great to do more than shudder.
"I am now thirteen thousand five hundred dollars richer, and your car has a new
home," he said smugly. "Life is good, I think." I made no response. Then the
weighted ball was unhooked and I momentarily came alive, howling behind the
rubber ball wedged in my mouth, as the blood flowed back into my tormented
flesh.
He let my feet down first, but I could barely stand, so painful were they. They
remained cuffed and locked together while he unhooked my wrists and cuffed these
together behind me. I was light-headed and could make not the slightest
resistance as he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bed, dumping me
in a heap before removing the gag from my mouth. Then I was in darkness again
as he left, the door closing with the sound that I knew would remain with me in
my nightmares for the rest of my life.
* * *
Some hours passed before he returned to feed me, this time with some thick stew.
It was the first hot food I had received since my capture, and I confess it
tasted pretty good. I suspected it was out of a tin, but I wasn't going to
complain as he fed me sitting on the edge of the bed. He was obviously in a
good mood. He showed me the cheque he had received for the sale of my car to a
dealer and chatted boyishly about the sale, but I said nothing. I tried not to
look at him, not trusting myself and terrified of what might happen to me if he
misinterpreted my expression or the tone of my voice.
My dinner over, he stood up and paced the room for a short while.
"The auction of the house is set for next week, Jan. Just thought you might be
interested. All reports from the real estate people suggest there is a lot of
interest. They're doing a bit of a publicity blitz. There will be a nice
colour photo in the newspapers over the weekend and fliers will be going out. I
think we'll get a good price." He stopped and turned to stare at me. "That is, I
will get a good price." He grinned. "There's no doubt about you, Jan - you're
changing my life - absolutely for the better, I must hasten to explain," he
added with a short laugh. "There is one element of it that we have not yet
contemplated, however, have we."
I knew what was coming next.
"We've established the parameters of our relationship, Jan. You now know your
place in the order of this world - or so I fervently hope. Is that the case?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered, staring at my feet.
"I really and truly hope so. I would not want to have the trouble of giving you
another beating like this morning... It would be so upsetting for me to think
that I'd failed again. Any punishment you have received so far would be a
fraction of what you would receive if I had to go through that process again. Do
I make myself understood, Jan?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are we sure?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Lie back on the bed."
I did as I was commanded, my cuffed wrists trapped under me. He positioned me
with my stiff-cuffed feet near the frame at the foot of the bed then wandered
across to the cabinet beside the door. From inside the cabinet he produced
several lengths of rope and a roll of silver duct tape. I groaned inwardly at
this last item, for the recollection of the first hours I had suffered here,
bound immovably with the hated tape, was still fresh in my memory, along with
other memories I would never have considered possible.
The cuffs came off my right ankle which was soon taped securely to my right
thigh. My left ankle was bound similarly and I found myself with my knees in
the air aware of how vulnerable I was becoming. This was obviously Ash's
intention, for one length of rope was threaded through behind my right knee and
both ends tied to the right side of the bed. Moments later my vulnerability was
confirmed as the same treatment was meted out to my left leg and I lay there,
spread and scared. His hands worked the third rope through the wrist cuffs
underneath me then pulled them hard towards the foot of the bed. With my knees
tethered as they were, my only option was to slide towards the foot of the bed
while my legs were pulled in the opposite direction, exposing my buttocks in a
way that left me in no doubt what was going to happen.
Ash walked to the cabinet again. My breath was coming faster now, and when I
saw him return with a paddle and a small bullwhip I began to shake
uncontrollably. He stood beside the bed and looked down at me. I didn't trust
myself to speak, but implored him with my eyes, which now leaked tears of
self-pity. I began to sob quietly.
"Now, Jan, you need to understand what is going to happen to you. Life is not
all bad if you do your part." He held up the bullwhip. It had a thick
leather-bound handle and a tail perhaps a metre long, wrapped around the handle.
He held it in front of my face.
"Lick it! Good girl. Now kiss it!" I did so. I could smell the strong smell
of leather and sweat. "Now open wide..."
The wrapped handle was abruptly jammed between my teeth. I spluttered
involuntarily. His voice was abruptly slow and cold with his next words. "If
you let go of that, I will use it on you. Make no mistake."
"We are now going to get to know each other a little better, Jan - in the
biblical sense."
Even though I knew it was coming - that it was inevitable - the shock was still
there. Despite all the torture and humiliation I had suffered to date, the
penetration of my person by objects, the abuse of my sex by whipping and
clipping, this was the coup de grace - the rape of Jan Sherlock by her captor.
I closed my eyes at this point, letting the tears run silently from the corners
down my temples. I thought I had mentally prepared myself for this, but I was
wrong. I had known that Ash would not stop at financially ruining me. That had
obviously been the first priority - striking while the iron was hot. The sexual
side had been inevitable, but I had subconsciously held on to a slim hope that
it might not happen, and now my denial had caught up with me. My experience
with Graham in his Sydney dungeon had been exciting and stimulating in all sorts
of ways - until the final night. This time the nightmare just continued. I
considered that my situation could really become no worse, however. I had to
accept what was to come as being at least better than a beating. I resolved to
make the situation work for me - to channel my anger and determination into
getting even. What this latest outrage did was to up the revenge stakes a
notch. One day, the time would come, the opportunity would appear...
I was expecting to feel him enter me but what happened next was a surprise.
There was a resounding smack as a paddle caught me squarely across the right
cheek. I gasped, nearly letting the whip fall from my mouth. Then a searing
pain across the other cheek. Six on each side with the paddle, then a further
six on the inside of my thighs with the short-handled flogger. I was yowling
and crying by this time - the whip in my mouth was nowhere near as effective in
silencing me as the ball gag, and was obviously not intended to be. The finale
was a trio of strokes vertically down my pussy that saw me writhing and chewing
on the leather handle jammed in my mouth at the terrible pain between my legs.
I lay there whimpering as the barrage of blows ceased. I dared not open my eyes
for fear of seeing him preparing to unleash some new horror upon me. The
unexpectedness of the beating and the pain it had caused had totally driven the
thought of sexual penetration from my mind, and with it the mental preparation
for such final ignominy. I was still gasping and wishing the pain would go away
when his fingers slipped inside me.
"You're wet, you little slut!" he declared with a triumphant tone. "I knew it.
You'll enjoy this."
The suddenness of his entry startled me again, together with the ease with which
he slid inside. I gathered at once that he was reasonably well endowed, and
despite the beating I was also well lubricated with my own juices. I was
momentarily astonished at this - a part of my brain identifying the fact and
with it the strange feelings I had not expected within my loins under such
circumstances. In Sydney Graham had beaten me once on the pussy - admittedly
nothing as painful as this, but certainly enough to get the blood flowing. When
he entered me that time it seemed as though every moment had been amplified and
the sensations heightened.
This time I knew the flogging had been too brutal, that it could not possibly
enhance what was to be a trial unwished for. I tried to ignore the stale smell
of cigarettes that still clung to Ash. How appropriate a name, I thought
ironically. The smell would stay with me, I knew, reminiscent of that first
night of terror when I had been blindfolded and captured in my own bedroom.
Smell was such a powerful emotion I doubted I would ever be able to shake myself
free of the feelings this would conjure up.
I was aware that Ash was now naked - his flesh warm against the tender sweaty
surface of my own. He thrust into me, but had only done so a few times when I
suddenly felt a rising tide in my loins that I could not control. I could not
believe what was happening and that I could be as out of control as this. What
had he done to me? The heat intensified and a great wave surged within me,
leaving me gurgling and panting through the handle still clenched in my mouth.
My eyes were screwed shut as the pleasure tide roared through my limbs leaving
my hands clenching in their cuffs beneath me and my legs straining to close on
the being impaling me between them.
But it was an incredible sensation of pleasure - a stark, unbelievable contrast
to the pain that had so recently swamped my poor body. Despite my principles
and my determination to resist I found myself powerless, and surrendered my last
vestiges of will to the onrush. I was aware that somewhere distantly someone
was making a kind of gargling cry that went on and on.
Eventually it dawned on me that I was the one making the noise, as I slowly came
back to earth. Ash had briefly paused to let the climax take hold, but was
clearly far from done himself. He hammered away at me for another fifteen
minutes, and again, despite my best intentions I lost a further battle, this
time of a lesser severity, but which combined with his own climax to leave us
both panting and soaked in perspiration. All thought of the beating was now
lost from my mind, which had gone beyond logic by this stage. I was exhausted
from the sustained suspension, the beatings and the climactic attention I had
just received. I just wanted to collapse, to roll into a little ball and send
the world away for a long time...
* * *
I guess that day marked a watershed in my captivity. It was the first of many
times in which I was used by Ash for his personal pleasure. Invariably in each
of these instances I was bound in a helpless and exposed position - something he
delighted in doing, not least because any so-called foreplay usually consisted
of a flogging for yours truly. I was unable to resist, and usually unable to
protest.
It was a watershed also in that I came to the unavoidable, unexpected and
somewhat difficult-to-accept conclusion that the flogging actually served to
enhance the subsequent coupling. I discovered that the mixture of pain and
pleasure took me to new heights which I had neither experienced nor expected. I
was bewildered by this, since I still loathed Ash and what he was doing to me.
The conflict in my own mind left me confused and - I reluctantly admit - less
determined in my resolve to overcome my situation no matter what. There were
issues of sexuality which I had not expected or even known to exist, and which I
had no avenue for discussion with anyone. Depression closed in on me and for a
long time things got worse. The Stockholm Syndrome, where hostages make friends
with their captors, seemed a possibility for a while, although the appearance of
Ash always left me uncertain because of his unpredictability. I could be bound
in a stringent position and receive a beating, which might or might not be
followed by intercourse. Or I might simply be left there, with no explanation.
I half-looked forward to his visits, however, if only for a break in the
routine, for the boredom was getting to me. In a way this was the worst aspect
of my captivity.
Once or twice I tried to engage him in conversation, but each time I wound up
with weights hanging from my nipples and pussy lips, bound in a terrible
position for having disobeyed my code of conduct. All the remainder of the time
I was kept - at very least - with my hands cuffed behind me and my ankles
cuffed and locked together.
After perhaps ten days had passed, Ash entered the room to announce that the
auction had taken place and that my house had sold for two hundred and twenty
nine thousand dollars. Even after the real estate people had had their cut, Ash
would be left with a healthy profit. The news only served to depress me
further, as did the announcement that the auction of all my belongings would
take place in two days time.
On this particular visit he brought with him a cardboard carton, which he put on
the floor next to the bed, where I sat.
"I've brought you a present, my dear," he told me lightly. "I do hope you like
it. It will make your life a little more comfortable down here." He opened the
flaps with a flourish and I looked down to see a jumble of stainless steel
strips and chains. My heart sank. It was another of his devious schemes, I
knew, which would inevitably end up with me in some awful position having
horrible things done to me.
That said, I could not help my interest piquing as he extracted what turned out
to be a 'belt' from the mess of chains and fastened it around my waist. It
fitted perfectly. It was about four centimetres wide and made in a single piece
of stainless steel, perhaps three millimetres thick. By pulling the ends apart
he was able to slip it sideways on me then rotate it so that the ends joined
over my navel. Here there was a rebate at each end so that they overlapped
without any increase in thickness, and through the middle of these overlaps he
inserted two rivets, snapping them off with a riveting tool. I didn't know how
the belt could then be removed. On each hip there was a small D-shaped
projection through which there was a small ring, about three centimetres in
diameter. There were further such D-projections in the centre at back and front,
but without the rings.
I watched curiously as he then fitted stainless steel cuffs to my ankles.
These were hinged, with an inner lining of dense foam that made the cuff fit
snugly against my skin. Unlike the belt, these cuffs locked in place with a
small padlock on the outside of my leg and had a D-ring on the inside -
obviously for hobbling purposes.
The same operation took place on my wrists, with the metal cuffs soon locked
into place. The last piece of equipment turned out to be a collar. Devoid of
lining, it was riveted into place like the waist belt. Like the belt it had
four small D rings on it. I didn't like to consider the possibilities here.
Then the thin stainless chains came out, and before I was even free of the
leather cuffs, I saw the chains locked on to each ankle cuff, run through the
hip rings and then connected to the wrist cuffs. A long length of chain locked
to the back of my collar and was then attached to the post in the centre of the
room. The leather cuffs then came off and I was told to stand. I did so with a
rattle of hardware and found my wrists drawn snugly in to the hip rings as I
straightened up. That was when I realised that to move my hands above my waist
I had to bend my knees somehow, whether it was by raising my leg, or by
squatting or kneeling. Ash was immensely pleased with himself.
"Like them?"
"They're very... pretty... sir," I said at last.
"Suits you," he said. "But Jan you must remember that everything good has to be
earned. These chains offer you so much more freedom, without taking away your
basic restraint. You should first understand what can be done with them.
Kneel."
With these ominous words I did as I was commanded, and waited while he locked a
few links between my wrist cuffs, then attached this short length of chain to
the front D-ring on my collar. He stepped back to admire his work.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed, looking down at where I knelt, my hands cupped either
side of my jaw as though I was just resting my head in them. "Remember this
position. It's what happens to slaves who are disobedient." And with that he
turned and departed, leaving a host of thoughts racing through my mind.
The most immediate was what freedom of movement did I have? I thought initially
things might not be too bad, until I tried to stand and found myself bent at
waist and knees in a most uncomfortable position. I could walk about the room
in this contorted manner, a bit like a chicken strutting its stuff, but not
being able to straighten my legs or arms was going to be distinctly unpleasant.
I found I could only get on to the bed with some difficulty, but at least once
there I could lie on my side or sit cross-legged.
Another, different thought popped into my mind. The fact that Ash was near to
completing his objective in selling off all my assets could have meant he had no
further use for me. Instead he had just spent what must have been a
considerable amount in getting these customised restraints made. This told me I
was here for the long term - whatever that might mean. He had mentioned
something about a study or experiment when I had first arrived, but in my pain
and exhaustion and fear I had not taken it in. Was this part of it?
I had been released from the more stringent bondage, and ultimately I surmised I
would have more freedom of movement. Would I have enough to somehow overpower
Ash? I suspected not - not in the present form of restraint, anyhow. Any such
attempt would have to be based on the premise that the keys to the chain
securing me to the post were either on Ash's person or in the cabinet. I did
not want to take the chance of overcoming Ash and finding I was still trapped
here with the only option being to let Ash fetch the key. Somehow that would
not work, I reckoned.
The realisation that there was some sort of long term purpose to my captivity
left me struggling with mixed emotions. There was relief that such a future
existed, but the thought of this captivity stretching out interminably filled me
with trepidation and despondency - feelings that lay heavily with me over the
next day or so. Life in my dungeon did not get any easier, even though my hands
were no longer cuffed behind me and my ankles were not joined. I could not
straighten up and my back and legs began to ache as a result. Ash delivered
food in a bowl on the floor - usually some sort of stew or pasta - designed
obviously to make it difficult to eat without the use of my hands except in a
very limited way. I managed the task kneeling beside the bed with the bowl
sitting on the edge. Drinking was still a problem and inevitably I got wet and
cold. I found I could not quite reach the shower taps with my hands in my
crouching state, but I could still raise one foot high enough to turn the tap on
with my toes. This process was cumbersome and chilling and further depressed my
spirits.
I guessed that nearly two days passed before he came back to release the chains
from where they were locked to my collar. I was pathetically grateful for the
release, for the restraint had been much harder than I had expected. Although
not as stringent as some of the things I had endured, the long time I had been
forced into the crouch and the unknown duration I was faced with all took their
toll on me. I became like a pet awaiting its master for the lifting of a
punishment that had been imposed for no reason.
The release - as usual - did not come without payment, as Ash stuffed a ball gag
in my mouth, roped my elbows to each edge of the bed and gave my buttocks and
pussy a thorough flogging, before fucking me thoroughly. I had discovered in
the course of these sessions that he at least wore a condom. Again, this lent
credence to my theory that I was to be held for a long time - long enough so
that complications like pregnancies were to be avoided by all parties. That was
some small relief to me, although a pregnancy would have been welcomed if it
meant my escape from captivity. But somehow that would have been both unlikely
and unexpected, I decided.
After he had satisfied himself Ash unlocked my hands from my collar and I
stretched out on the bed, luxuriating inwardly at the relief it gave my muscles.
Ash was grinning again, and I knew something else had transpired.
"Isn't it amazing what you accumulate over time," he said. "Until you come to
insure something, you don't realise how much money you've sunk into material
things. I think the same applies to auctions. Of course, Jan, the good thing
about your possessions was that they were all so new. You'd bought the house
then furnished it really well. No junk for you. That inheritance certainly set
you up nicely." He paused and cupped his hand under my chin as I knelt on the
bed. "Nearly fifteen grand worth. I think this calls for a celebration. I'm
feeling extremely magnanimous, Jan. I will grant you a favour - a 'boon' they
used to call it. It must be reasonable, and within my power to grant. As long
as you don't expect something silly like release," he smirked.
I paused for a moment. It was the first real concession I had got from him. Was
this a sign of an easing of my restrictions? How daring should I be? I did not
want to upset him by being over ambitious and ending up with nothing - or worse,
ending up being punished for being impertinent.
"Please sir - I'd like something to read. A book? A big book?"
He smiled at me, and for a moment there almost seemed to be warmth in his smile.
"That's very good, Jan. Very reasonable. Yes, I guess you must be getting a
little bored down here. I will see what I can do to alleviate that. Yes, you
may have a book, and I will consider the thought behind your request."
Then he was gone.
* * *
I had established in the meantime that in my relatively unrestrained state I
could nearly reach the door while standing up. Tracing a circle around the post
I could almost reach every corner of the room if I laid down and stretched out
my legs. Such were the tedious things I occupied my mind with. I could now
circle the post continuously as a form of exercise, which at least was a bonus
for me. I counted how many circuits I did before I got tired, using this as a
benchmark to try and maintain some sort of regime.
The book appeared with the next meal. Both were shoved inside the door without
Ash entering the room. Then the door clanged shut and I was left standing in
the darkness, cursing myself for not stipulating some form of light to read by.
Of recent times the light provision had been intermittent - on some sort of
timer I suspected, although I found it difficult to detect any pattern without a
watch. My sleeping was probably to a pattern although I couldn't detect one
here, either. I just slept when I felt like it.
I felt around and picked up the book and the plate of food, retreating to sit on
my bed. The book was a paperback, maybe an inch thick. I wondered where it had
come from. I wondered what Ash would read...
It seemed like a day before the lights came on again. I should have guessed
that Ash would prolong the darkness just to frustrate me. It was like the three
wishes given out by the genie, the end result being that they are used
thoughtlessly for no net gain by the recipient. Ash was obviously thinking the
same way. On his next visit he asked would I like the light on for a while, to
which I eagerly agreed. I looked at the book and saw it was a Wilbur Smith
novel. My heart leapt in anticipation of the simple act of finally being able to
read, to escape in my mind from the depressing surroundings of my captivity.
Perhaps I was too transparent in my expectation, for my captor took equal
delight at pulling a soft leather discipline helmet from his pocket and
flourishing it in front of me.
"Oh no, sir, please! Let me read..." I cried like a child. I could not believe
myself and how desperate I had become for some sort of intellectual stimulation
It was a plea I made without thinking - another mistake. Not only was I going
to get the helmet, but because of my little outburst I was going to have a gag
to go with it. Disconsolately I opened my mouth to let him work a soft rubber
ball behind my teeth before the black leather blotted out the light as the laces
were pulled tight down the back of my head and the reinforcing straps were
locked at the base of my neck.
"I'll leave the light on, shall I?" he whispered next to my ear before there was
the heavy clang as the door shut.
* * *
It must have been perhaps half a day later when I got my sight and speech back.
When I finally got to read, however, it was only with my hands now chained
together behind my back. With every change of restraint Ash was insistently
emphasising how dependent I was on him, and how little he need do to make my
life uncomfortable in the extreme. Having my cuffs locked with a short chain
through the D-ring at the rear of my belt was in many ways more difficult than
when I simply had leather cuffs on. I was again unable to fully straighten my
legs, although this was not so severe as when my hands had been linked to my
collar. This time, however, feeding was really messy, and my hands were not as
mobile as the previous position, being secured to the belt. Again, he left me
for probably a day like this, but it was a day to blissfully savour the joy or
the written word again, to transport myself to another country and the
adventures on African shores.
I sat cross-legged on the bed, the book held open under my feet. I tried
turning the pages with my toes but usually ended up having to turn right round
to use my hands. By this time I had got used to the belt and the metal cuffs
with their foam linings, which turned out to be moderately comfortable.
About halfway through the book Ash turned up to release my hands from the belt.
He was again in a good mood, flourishing a cheque from the sale of the house.
"I think we need to make things a little more interesting and comfortable for
you, Jan. What do you think?"
"I'd like that, sir."
He appeared to be half thinking out loud. "Maybe we should put a television set
down here. Yes, that would be good. Is there something else you'd like,
maybe?"
I really thought at this stage that I was making progress, that my gradual
approach was working. "Could I go outside, sir? Just for a while?" I didn't
know what my chances were here. I didn't know what the practicalities were,
whether he would even consider it, whether it was realistic, or what it would
lead me into, but whatever the difficulties, it had to make for a change from my
present condition and the pathway to some chance of escape. I still had no idea
what he intended for me in the long term. I wondered if I could insinuate
myself into doing some housework - something which might also allow me some sort
of opportunity to get away.
"Go outside?" His response left me uncertain whether it would even be
considered, or whether it might cause great offence. I felt like Oliver Twist
asking for more gruel. Here I had just been offered the holy grail of captivity
- a television set - and I now wanted to go outside. What was I thinking?
"Hmmmn. All right Jan - I'll think about that one. One thing at a time, eh?"
He smiled at me. I didn't know what was behind those eyes that left me worried
as to where it was all leading.
* * *
The TV arrived the next day, by my reckoning. It was one of those ones with an
integrated video player, which surprised me. Ash evidently wanted to do the
installation with me securely out of action, and his idea in this instance was
to have me kneeling in the middle of the bed facing the head, while a rope was
looped around each chain between my wrist and the hip ring. Pulling these out
to each side drew my ankles hard up to my hips, spreading my legs at the same
time, and pulling my wrists out to the sides of the bed. It was extraordinarily
simple but very effective. Of course not content with merely securing my limbs,
it seemed that I was to be fully plugged as well. I was made to bow forward
while a large butt plug was inserted. It was well-lubed, but still big enough
to make me gasp and groan as it finally slid home. Then came the vibrator
inside my pussy. Neither of these events were strange to me by now. What was
different, however, was the semi-circular stainless steel strip which he
produced at that point, which I realised moments later was a crotch strap. It
fitted over the D-rings on the front and back of my belt, snugly holding the
devices inside me. I quickly concluded there was no way I would be able to
extract them past this strap, even with the use of my hands.
His last focus was my head. It was the same soft rubber ball I had experienced
under the discipline helmet, this time held in place with numerous turns of
silver duct tape around my head over the top of a rubber swimcap. He pulled the
tape first horizontally then wrapped it vertically under my chin, finishing with
a couple of turns over my eyes. I could hear him moving about behind me,
getting things out of the cabinet and obviously preparing for what I was sure
would be my next ordeal.
I experimented with the crotch strap and the inserts, but they were well and
truly embedded for the duration of whatever I was now to experience. Moving my
vaginal and anal muscles around them only served to create sensations that I did
not want to exhibit in front of Ash.
He went away for a while, leaving me kneeling in my darkened, silent world, my
arms pulled out tautly to the sides. It was not the most unpleasant of
positions I had been in, though I was far from enjoying it. My wriggling about
and trying to ease things eventually resulted in my falling forward on my face,
bringing my arms down flat on the mattress. It was a better position, easing
the strain on my arms and shoulders. I may even have dozed in this state until
a searing pain bit through my consciousness as a crop smacked across the exposed
sole of my right foot. I screamed beneath the tape as a second blow fell on the
left one. Six strokes on each foot was my punishment for departing from the set
position, something Ash told me would not happen for quite a while in the near
future.
He undid the ropes on my chains and hauled me to my feet, steering me away from
the bed until my back was against the dreaded steel post. I was made to kneel,
the cold steel pressed against my spine and the back of my thighs, my calves
horizontal on either side of the post. He locked the cuffs of my wrists together
behind the post, then proceeded to wind more turns of the duct tape around my
head and the post, securing the two immovably. This done, the tape and pads
over my eyes were removed.
I blinked in the light, suddenly discovering that my eyes were the only things I
could move above my shoulders. Even below this point, the fact that my head was
fixed rigidly meant any body movement was extremely limited. It was evident that
no further bindings would be required for me. Ash stood up from where he had
been squatting in front of me, and I saw the television set on a small trolley a
little over a metre away. Uh-huh, I thought. Watching the television was not
to be an optional activity. It was going to be total focus. Maybe I would die
by the death of a thousand electron beams, I thought grimly.
Ash wasted no time on formalities, nor did he suggest how long the program was
that I would be watching. I established very quickly that it was a video,
however. The good news was that there would be no advertisements. This was
also the bad news, for it was good old fashioned, uninterrupted porn on a
four-hour tape (as I later found out). Ash switched it on then bent to turn on
the vibrators in my rectum and pussy, before he left without a backward glance,
turning out the light as he did so. With the television obscuring all other
features of the darkened room, and me barely able to move a muscle, I had little
choice to go along with it. Even shutting my eyes could not exclude the sound
effects, and the bastard had evidently turned up the volume, just to make sure I
could hear through the layers of tape around my head.
It was clear he knew what would happen. I even knew it myself, in my heart, and
no matter how I tried to concentrate on other things, my nipples hardened and
warm sensations began to spread from my loins. And of course what should be the
first event on the session but my friend stainless steel lady, that he had sent
by email to my computer...how long ago was that? But here she was, as though
time meant nothing, still impaled on her pole, the chain stretched over the beam
in the castle while she approached orgasm in spectacular fashion.
The following scenes did nothing to make life easier for me. To say bondage was
a theme would be somewhat of an understatement. Bondage was the focus, and I
lost track of how many women climaxed in the course of the tape, some with male
assistance, some with female help, some with artificial help and some through
various painful and contorted circumstances. Somewhere along the way I lost the
plot as well. The vibrators drove me to a point where I couldn't resist. With
little encouragement I was soon gyrating to my own music - as much as I was
able, that is. Ash had thought this one through again, and the fact that I
could firstly move so little and secondly had nothing to press against left me
frustrated for a long time as I struggled to work out how to counter his devious
methodology.
I finally managed to get my fingers hooked beneath the crotch strap, between
the post and my bottom. It was strained and awkward, but it gave me just enough
to move the front vibrator against.
When I finally climaxed it was again difficult as I lost my grip on the strap
and struggled vainly against the tape holding my head to the post and stifling
my cries. The shudders subsided through my body, leaving my legs trembling in
the wake, but there was no letup from the mechanical intruders nor the sensory
input from the video. The moans from the participants merged with my own as
time stretched out and the second of what was obviously going to be a protracted
series of orgasms began to slowly work its way to the surface...
I lost track of when the video stopped. Somewhere in the four hours the
batteries died on the vibrators and I exhausted myself struggling firstly trying
to achieve orgasm and then to stop the waves that followed. Some women have
trouble achieving orgasm, while some I know appear able to climax merely by
squeezing their thighs together. I don't know which end of the spectrum is the
most desirable, but I know my own body's behaviour. While the first climax may
take some effort, once I am there any subsequent climaxes follow like a wheel
rolling downhill. This instance proved to be an example where the natural
momentum took me away at a speed which kept up with the impetus from the
vibrators and the video. I had never experienced anything like this before.
Graham had toyed with me and had driven me wild, but had always ceased when my
exhaustion had shown through.
In this instance I had no choice and there was nobody to release me from this
continuity of arousal. The sweat poured off me and I became faint from the
exertion. The strain on my back and neck from fighting the tape holding my head
to the post was there in the background, but was repeatedly swamped by the
climactic waves surging from my loins. I did not know how much of it I could
take, not that I had any control over the matter. At length my senses seemed to
merge, as, with my eyes screwed shut my own cries and moans behind the tape
combined with those on the video tape, and I lost track of which noises were
mine and which were other protagonists.
By the time the tape finally clicked to a stop the batteries in the vibrators
had run down and I hung there in the darkness, my breasts heaving and my thighs
trembling uncontrollably, my body streaming with sweat. I was moaning and
panting, my mind still filled with a myriad of colours and flashes that bore no
relation to my predicament or my location. I was off in some faraway place where
reality and tangibility did not exist. It was a strange subspace planet of
noise and smell and sound and indescribable feeling, but devoid of form and
life. My head was buzzing and I felt an overwhelming mix of exhaustion,
satiation, elation and a sensation of being beyond caring.
When the lights snapped on I was only dimly aware of Ash sitting in a chair
beyond the television. I had no idea how long he had been there watching me,
nor did I care. I was wrapped in my own little world and would have fallen face
down on the concrete when he cut the tape binding my head to the post, had he
not supported me. I was barely conscious of being carried back to the bed,
deposited there and having the remainder of the tape cut away. Then the lights
were off again, and I slept...
* * *
