Archive-name: Bondage/strict.txt

Archive-author: John Savage

Archive-title: Strictest Bondage, The





         an excerpt from "Tales of the BondageMasters' Club"



              It was a dark and stormy night and a few of us had taken

         refuge at the BondageMasters' Club, the very exclusive

         private club you've probably heard of and wished you could

         afford to join.  All of the dungeons downstairs were booked

         up right then which led some of us to gather around the

         fireplace in the lounge.  We talked about one thing or the

         other and pretty soon the conversations got around to a

         commonly asked question at the Club: what is the strictest,

         heaviest bondage you've ever seen?

              Bill Colins sipped his brandy and related a time when he

         was in college and had his girlfriend over to his parent's

         house.  They were gone to Europe and he had run of the place.

         Having all the time in the world, he decided to try the most

         elaborate bondage he could imagine.  He took his girlfriend,

         a lovely young lass of nineteen summers and delightful

         curves, so we were led to believe, to the garage.  This being

         a three car garage, there was a wooden post in the middle of

         one side, about eight inches on a side and painted so it was

         smooth.  It was not hard, he said, to persuade Nancy to

         remove her clothes; she having already had a couple of

         cocktails and being in an amorous mood.  When she was

         completely naked he backed her against the post and had her

         wrists tied behind it before the sweet young thing realized

         what was happening.  Actually, I suspect she was as

         willing a "victim", as all of my girlfriends had been back in

         the college days.

              Then, he continued, he dragged out a carton of cotton

         clothesline packages, twenty-four in all, and proceeded to

         open them.  The rope began to flow on to the girl who giggled

         delightedly and seemed to find nothing out of the ordinary

         about being bound naked to a garage post.  Rope was soon

         wrapped around her legs, binding them to each other, then

         around the legs and the post, locking them firmly to the

         wood.  More rope found its way around her waist, tucking in

         her tummy most delightfully.  At first he wrapped with the

         breasts sticking out between the coils of rope.  But as more

         and more rope went on, he found that those breasts were about

         the only skin showing and that seemed to spoil the effect.

         So he wrapped rope around them and the post, squashing them

         into pancakes.  Or at least that's what it seemed like, he

         confided.

              It took a long time, especially being careful to wrap

         and knot each rope so that it couldn't fall down, but he

         eventually had the poor girl wrapped from head to toe.  The

         rope began at the tops of her feet and continued up without

         interruption or skin showing until it reached the bottom of

         her chin.  A great deal of rope had been wrapped around her

         neck so that the shoulders were covered.  But that rope had

         been only mildly tight so that there was no problem with her

         breathing.  Carefully wrapped rope filled her mouth as it

         passed between her lips and around the post.  More rope

         wrapped her head and the post from her nose to mid-forehead.

         There was enough rope over the eyes that she was effectively

         blindfolded.  Then he stood back.  Only her feet and a little

         bit of her face here and there showed, the rest was solid

         clothesline.   Even from the back no skin showed, the arms

         and hands and even fingers had been covered with rope.

              Bill then reaffirmed why he was a member of our

         exclusive club.  He took some thin twine and, while down

         on hands and knees, bound her big toes together.  Beautiful

         touch, that, heh?

              Finally the bondage was complete.  Bill surveyed his

         handiwork and approved.  Never in all the existence of woman

         and rope had one female be so completely bound and helpless.

         He ordered her to struggle, to exert all her strength to free

         herself from that cotton prison.  The toes wiggled a bit and

         maybe there was the slightest tremor in the hair on top of

         her head.  But that was all.  It was beautiful, he assured

         us.

              We all agreed that such bondage was good and certainly

         extremely strict, if somewhat lacking in originality.  After

         all, anyone can come up with the idea of simply wrapping the

         girl with three day's output of a rope factory.  Truly

         imaginative bondage had to have something a bit more, some

         spark of ingenuity.

              Mark came forward then with his version.  The girl, he

         said, was the wife of a friend, her name being Nora.  This

         friend was very much into leather and bondage and enjoyed

         applying both to his wife.  The night in question Mark was

         invited over to witness the standard procedure used to secure

         Nora for her night's rest.  They had a special bedroom they

         used as a playroom, so the guy could purchase or build all

         the equipment he wanted.  Mark settled himself in a corner to

         watch.  Nora began by shedding every stitch of clothing.

         Having never seen Nora in the buff before, Mark said that he

         was quite delighted to find that the normally drab and

         shapeless clothing worn by that slender twenty-five year old

         female hid a very shapely body with proud, perky breasts.

         Immediately her hands were bound behind her back with the

         palms facing each other.  Then the elbows were bound together

         with rope both above and below them.

              Nora sat on the edge of a leather covered and padded

         table while her legs were bound at the ankles, and above and

         below the knees. Then those legs were inserted into a leather

         sheath that came all the way up to her waist.  The sheath was

         like a single glove used for bondage of a girl's arms but

         designed to fit the legs.  There were laces up the front and

         her husband worked them upwards until they were tight all the

         way from her ankles to her tummy.  Wide leather straps were

         added around her legs at the knees and the usual above and

         below the knees.

              Nora then stood up as her arms were fitted into a

         leather single glove and it was laced up.  There were two

         straps that passed over her shoulders to secure the glove on

         and prevent it from slipping down.  Then came a sort of

         straightjacket, made of black leather and having no arm holes

         whatsoever.  The leather jacket went on and laced up.  A wide

         strap sown into it at the tummy had a roller buckle and was

         pulled down very tight.  Another wide leather strap at the

         top was buckled around her neck.  Two other wide straps were

         attached and buckled around her torso above and below the

         breasts.

              Nora smiled at Mark who could guess what was coming

         next.  With most of her covered by leather restrictions, only

         her head was bare.  First came a ball gag, not too large a

         one, just enough too fill her mouth.  That strapped behind

         her head.  Then a padded blindfold over her eyes.  The

         discipline hood was also black leather and also laced on

         after being molded onto her face.  There was a wide leather

         strap around the bottom which buckled around the neck, right

         over the neckpiece of the straightjacket.  The only bit of

         skin now showing was Nora's nose, the last, sad piece of a

         once proud girl.

              But, of course, you knew the table would come into this,

         Mark assured us.  We nodded.  Nora was picked up and laid

         down on the table, tummy side down and stretched out.  More

         leather straps appeared and went around the narrow table and

         the already helpless girl, securing her to the table.  Her

         ankles were pushed down until the toes pointed.  Straps held

         her legs, hips and torso.  If those straps had been her only

         bondage, Mark doubted she would have escaped.  A final strap

         over her neck pulled her head down to the padding and held it

         there.  The face was turned towards Mark and he could see her

         nose flare as she breathed.

              It was a wonderful piece of bondage, Mark stated.  The

         captive girl could not move a muscle.  She was being pressed

         in by rope and leather on every inch of her body, a constant

         and very vivid reminder of her helplessness.  Mark could see

         the outline of ropes around her legs through the leather

         encasing them, so tight was the sheath.

              Mark paused to take a drink when someone asked him if

         Nora really sleep every night so bound in leather.  Mark

         pursed his lips and admitted that no, she didn't.  Nora had

         later admitted to Mark that she didn't spend every night like

         that.  Only the weekday nights, she said.  On the weekends

         her husband put her into really strict bondage!

              We chuckled and admitted that such leather bondage was

         pretty good.  We had all seen similar bondage from the

         leather-lovers in the Club and knew that it could be very

         stimulating and exciting.  For both the binder and bindee.

              Then came Ronald's turn.  He sighed and said that he,

         being newer to the bondage field, had less experience with

         such matters but that he had one time seen some bondage that

         was both strict and unusual.  He had a mistress on the side,

         something his wife did not know about, and he visited this

         young lady once a week or so, paying in exchange a portion of

         her rent and allowance.  It worked out well as he liked her

         and she was totally open minded about his bondage tastes.

         Well, one evening he was due to visit Charlene.  Unlocking

         her door with his key, he entered to find a dark apartment

         with no sign of life.  Exploring a bit he found her bedroom

         door was closed.  He opened it.  Inside it was dark but he

         heard a familiar sound, the muffled moan of a female in

         distress as filtered through a gag.  He flipped on the

         lights.

              Charlene was indeed in distress.  For long moments

         Ronald could do nothing but stare.  His mistress was

         suspended in mid-air in the center of the bedroom.  Moreover,

         she was completely naked save for a ball gag and leather

         bands around her wrists and ankles.  Someone had screwed

         heavy metal rings into the floor on opposite sides of the

         room and another set into the ceiling next to the wall.

         Charlene had been stretched out between those rings in a

         giant "X", arms and legs spread wide.  Leather bands

         encircled her wrists and ankles but rope continued from the

         bands to the rings.  She was so far above the floor that her

         belly button was level with Ronald's nose.

               The naked, wide open body in such unique bondage had an

         immediate effect upon Ronald.  Assuming that Charlene had

         requested someone to put her in this bondage as a surprise

         for him, he threw off his clothes, tearing some of them in

         the process, and threw himself upon her body.  Of course, he

         discovered that a girl suspended several feet off the floor

         could not easily be raped.  Her pussy, it was true, was in

         good position for the attention of his tongue or fingers, but

         his tool was not normally capable of reaching such heights.

         Necessity being the mother of something, Ronald grabbed a

         chair and stood upon it that he might reach the promised

         land.

              Later, after a quick but satisfying orgasm for both of

         them, he untied her legs and allowed her to stand upon the

         chair while he released her arms.  It was when he unbuckled

         the gag that he found out that Charlene had not been so

         displayed for him but rather that another of her "customers"

         had bound her like that as cruel joke.  This other guy

         figured that a sexy, beautiful girl like Charlene had more

         boyfriends than just him and one of them would find her in a

         day or two.  Fortunately Charlene had spent only one day in

         her suspended spreadeagle and had not suffered any permanent

         injury.

              That, we agreed, was indeed strict bondage and quite

         inescapable, which is, of course, the first and most

         important definition of strict bondage.

              Then it was my turn.  Once, I related, I had the

         pleasure to be challenged by a delightfully cury young

         miss who insisted that I couldn't dream up a bondage position

         that both prevent her escape and tax her ability to endure.

         Since Susan had a healthy, full figure to go along with her

         innocent and sweet looks, I accepted the challenge.  Being

         aware of her tendency to prefer nudity to clothes when bound

         up didn't hurt, either.

              On the evening of the challenge, she showed up at my

         house wearing a wonderfully tight dress with ridiculously

         high heels she could hardly walk in and smug grin that said

         other males had answered her challenge and failed.

              The playroom was equipped with a number of rings in the

         ceiling, walls and floor.  It was also soundproofed and the

         window had drapes so thick as to prevent any light from

         escaping.  And females never escaped from that room, either.

         Susan looked approvingly at the ropes I had laid out

         and nodded at the rings.  She stipulated that there was to be

         ropes only, no chains or handcuffs, etc.  There were to be no

         ropes around the neck (a precaution I normally observe

         anyway), and that I would not allow my hands to wander to

         places of her body of interest to a man but not necessary to

         the process of binding her.  Should I take such liberties I

         would be slapped silly when she untied herself, I was

         assured.  I agreed to the provisions and we began.

              First off she removed her clothes without my asking.

         Her body was indeed as beautiful as I had imagined from the

         curves of her clothing.  She bicycled a great deal and

         displayed a wonderful muscle tone with being overdeveloped.

         Being in good shape, she assured me, was a big aid in her

         overcoming the bondage placed upon her by over-confident

         males.

              I began by placing her wrists together, palms facing

         inward, and binding them.  I took my time, placing each

         winding of the cotton clothesline carefully so that the ropes

         were even and fairly snug.  Then I wrapped the rope between

         her arms and over the wrist ropes to cinch them down.  I tied

         three very tight knots then cinched down a couple more turns.

         Then I tied three more knots and cinched down again.  The

         final three knots left about two feet of rope hanging free.

         She noted the rope hanging down and smirked at such

         sloppiness.  I then bound her elbows after pulling them

         together.  That bondage was also cinched down and multiply

         knotted.  Then the rope dangling from her wrists went up to

         the elbow bondage where it was wrapped tightly and knotted

         half a dozen times.  She had been following the bonds

         as they went on and was not smirking now.  She knew that the

         final knots being up at her elbows would make them impossible

         to reach.

              I wrapped loops around her hips and wrists, pinning her

         arms to her bottom.  I cinched that rope down between her

         arms and body then ran rope from her wrists down between her

         legs and up to the rope in front.  It passed over that rope

         and back through to her wrists.  Those crotch ropes were

         pulled tight and knotted several times.  Then the end of the

         rope was passed up to the elbow bondage and the final knots

         placed there.

              In a similar manner I bound her legs at the ankles and

         again above the knees.  As I fetched the gag I noticed that

         Susan's nipples were standing out, rigid as if she were

         highly excited.  I had seen that reaction too many times

         before when binding women to not know what it meant.

              I selected a ball for a gag that was just large enough

         to fit into Susan's mouth.  It was, of course, tightly

         strapped in the back.  Then I added a discipline hood, the

         kind that is made of soft leather and laced up the back so

         they can be made very tight, like a second skin.  Only her

         nose showed through the hood.  I explained as I laced it very

         tightly that the hood was to assure she would not be able to

         use her mouth or teeth to aid in her escape attempt.  Also, I

         sweetly told her, the hood helps because it prevents her from

         seeing her bondage.

              Now I was almost ready.  I helped her down to the floor

         and tied a heavier rope around her ankle ropes.  That rope

         went up to the ring in the center of the ceiling.  Soon Susan

         was suspended completely off the floor and upside down.  Her

         leather-encased head was twisting this way and that as if in

         indecision and her fingers fluttered nervously.  That was a

         very helpless girl, and yet I was not finished with her.  For

         a girl who had demolished other male egos one must take

         every precaution.

              On the top of the discipline hood there was a small loop

         of leather.  Susan had probably not notice it there.  And she

         might not have noticed that directly under the ring in the

         ceiling was another ring in the floor.  Humming merrily to

         myself, I tied a short piece of rope to the hood's loop and

         to the floor ring, pulling it snug so that her head ceased

         its turnings.  Now Susan was stretched out between the floor

         and ceiling, in strict bondage and upside down.  I informed

         her that it was now her turn in this contest, speaking loudly

         so she could be able to hear me inside that leather hood.

         And I informed her that I would return to free her in two

         hours, the agreed upon time limit.

              I returned in two hours to find a sweating, exhausted

         and very defeated girl.  No sooner had the ropes been removed

         from her arms then she embraced my legs and vowed eternal

         submission to the male who could make her so helpless.

              Everyone agreed that the upside down bondage was very

         good.  But some thought the garage post might have been a

         little better, while some held out for encasing the girl in

         leather and strapping her down to the table.  Only Ronald

         insisted that an X suspension was better but his logic was

         based on the fact that only that position of them all allowed

         for access and the performance of the sex act.  The argument

         and more examples continued on into the night, as is usual at

         the BondageMasters' Club.

              Which did you think was the strictest bondage?







         Like Father, Like Son



         by John Savage





              Lynda smoothed the nylon over her shapely leg and

         affixed the garter snaps to the top of it high up on her

         thigh.  After slipping on the high heels she stood to view

         the results in the mirror.  Looking back at her was a tart, a

         whore dressed in her working clothes, or perhaps the starlet

         in a porno movie.  The girl was young, only eighteen, and

         pretty, with long blonde hair falling to just the level of

         her pert nipples.  She studied her face as she often had done

         in the mirror at home.  The lips were a little too large but

         they were made to pout.  Her eyes were bright blue, outlined

         now in a hint of blue shadow.  The overall appearance was

         still that of an innocent and sweet teenager girl next door.

         She wanted to stamp her feet but was having enough trouble

         standing on the five inch high heels.  Even applying makeup

         and dressing like a harlot hadn't altered her youthful

         appeal.



              She turned to study the effect of the clothes.  The bra

         was lacy and see through, showing off her large breasts

         rather than hiding them.  She could easily see her erect

         nipples poking at the black satin.  The panties were more of

         a G-string, a tiny bit of black nylon in the shape of a vee

         that almost covered her pubic patch and was little more than

         a string around her waist and between her bottom cheeks.  The

         garterbelt was thin, simply a support for the nylons.  She

         had chosen the plain black one over those with frills and

         lace.  The nylons were dark brown and had the old fashion

         seam running down the back.  It had been maddening for her to

         try and get that seam straight.  She wondered how her mother

         had done it every day.  The shoes were black patented leather

         with ridiculously high heels.  She could see the tip of her

         nyloned toes sticking through the opening at the end.



              The effect was certainly not the Lynda her friends knew.

         Before that mirror was a full-figured woman, youthful and

         with wonderfully firm breasts and legs, and a flat tummy, but

         undoubtedly a very real woman and very sexy.



              She sighed, wishing she could have made her face look a

         little older but otherwise pleased with the effect.  The old

         fashioned nylons felt strange to wear but she had to admit

         the effect was interesting.  And those high heels!  Being

         just over five foot and eight inches, Lynda had never felt

         the need for high heels.  But standing on tiny heels that

         raised her own heel five inches above carpet was something

         else.  Yet she had to yet again admit that the effect was

         nice.  The shape of her legs had changed.  She was not sure

         just what the difference was but they certainly had never

         looked as sexy before.



              But seven o'clock was coming up and she had to hurry to

         prepare herself for Steve's coming.  Going to the bed she

         checked the placement of ropes.  Then she sat down in the

         middle of the bed and spread her legs wide.  Each high heeled

         foot came to rest on a length of rope.  The other ends of

         those ropes were tied tightly to the corner legs of the bed.

         Bending over Lynda took one rope and wrapped it tightly

         around an ankle.  Several knots held it firm.  Then she

         secured the other ankle.  Stretching back until she was

         laying propped up on her elbows, she tugged at each ankle to

         confirm that the legs were securely bound with no chance of

         the ropes coming loose.  Then she lay on her back and picked

         up the leather gag she had found in that strange little book

         store on Main street.  It was one of those book stores that

         catered to adult tastes and also carried a selection of what

         the clerk referred to as "B&D" equipment.  Lynda had been

         intrigued by the leather cuffs, handcuffs and other bondage

         items displayed behind the glass case.  And more than a

         little embarrassed by the display of rubber penises.  But she

         had bought what she had decided she would need and ignored

         the silly smirk on the clerk's face.



              The gag was simple but effective.  Lynda knew, she had

         tried it.  It was a band of leather with a buckle so that it

         could be passed over the mouth and buckled behind the head.

         Attached to the inside of the gag was a leather ball that

         filled the center of the mouth enough to push her tongue

         down.  When Lynda had tried it she found the taste something

         less than desirable but it had been effective.  She also

         liked the helpless look it gave her face when she viewed the

         tightly strapped leather in the mirror.



              With the gag in place she turned her attention to the

         final piece of her plan.  Placing her hands above her head

         she found the handcuffs.  Her measurements had been pretty

         close and she had to stretch and wiggle her body upwards as

         much as the ankle ropes allowed in order for her to place her

         wrists one at a time in the metal circlets and click them

         shut.  As the second one clicked shut until it was firm

         around her wrists a shiver of excitement danced down her

         spine.  Up to that point she could have undone the ropes and

         retreated from her plan.  But now her wrists were both locked

         firmly above her head and with that her entire body was

         secured and helpless.  The handcuffs, she knew, could not be

         moving no matter how she struggled.  She had also purchased a

         short length of small chain and two padlocks.  One end she

         padlocked to the frame under the bed.  The other end was

         padlocked to the small link joining the two cuffs.



              Lynda tested her bondage.  Her knees could bend only the

         slightest and there was no way she could bring her legs

         together.  Her wrists were captives in steel and would stay

         such until freed by someone with the key.  She wiggled her

         body and noted how the large breasts jiggled within the

         flimsy bra.  Good, she thought.  When Steve comes in the door

         a bit of honest struggling will put on a good display, a

         display that should evoke extreme sexual excitement.  And

         then he would have his way with the bound down and helpless

         Lynda.  She sighed.



              Since he had become her boyfriend Lynda had sought new

         ways to excite this male and simulate his lovemaking.  For

         Steve, you see, had a little problem keeping an erection long

         enough to please the highly sexual Lynda.  Still she loved

         him and tried her best to tease and excite him.  Once he had

         been looking at a old movie and made the comment that he

         found those nylons with the seams and garterbelts a real

         turn-on.  It had taken several weeks to find the clothes and

         bondage equipment but now she was prepared to shock him with

         a wanton display of sexually stimulating dress and bondage,

         both of which he liked.



              And Lynda had to admit to herself that she found the

         erotic clothing exciting.  And the feeling of helplessness,

         the knowing that she was unable to free herself, that she

         would stay stretched out on that bed for as long as her

         boyfriend wanted, was doing strange and wonderful things

         inside her.  Visions of Steve leaving her bound to the

         bed all night and repeatedly screwing her flashed in her mind

         and left her mouth dry and her body tinglely all over.



              Steve had told her he was coming back to his apartment

         at seven so she had let herself in at six and brought her

         sexy clothes and ropes.  In twenty minutes he should be

         coming in to finding the girl of his dreams awaiting

         helplessly for his pleasure.  And her's.



              Lynda giggled into her gag then, just as a test, cried

         out in a simulated but loud moan of pleasure.  The cry was

         nicely muffled by the leather inside and over her mouth.

         Steve liked girls helpless and he would find a prime example

         laying on his own bed.  The twenty minutes passed slowly for

         a bound up girl.  Yet there was a strange sort of excitement

         and that made it a very pleasurable twenty minutes.



              Suddenly there was a sound from the front room.  Lynda

         tensed and felt quivery inside .  Footsteps approached the

         bedroom door.  She gulped and began her struggling act.

         Except it wasn't totally an act.  The thought suddenly

         occurred to her that perhaps this wasn't Steve!  Maybe a

         burglar!  Or...



              It was Steve.  He stood in the doorway and stared open

         mouthed.  Lynda increased her struggled, especially those

         that jiggled her breasts and thrust her hips up and down

         suggestively.  She made moaning noises.  And she was not

         acting.  She suddenly found herself very horny.  She wanted

         her man to rip off his clothes and throw himself upon her

         body in a rage of lust.



              Steve stood there with his mouth hanging open.  "Well,

         shit!" he finally managed.  Lynda's heart sank when she saw

         him stagger a bit as he crossed to the bed.  It was obvious

         he had been drinking again and that meant what lovemaking

         ability he normally had would be right out the window.  Even

         with her dressed like a whore and totally helpless on his

         bed, he showed only mild curiosity.  All those really great

         wiggles were wasted, she moaned inwardly.



              "What the hell you doin', woman?  What, can't talk?

         Shit!  And where'd you get them funny shoes?  And all that

         other stuff?  You didn't take any of my money, did you?"  He

         paused to sniff.  "You're the damnest, weirdest woman I ever

         had."



              Lynda wanted to cry.  All those bad things in Steve were

         coming out right when she had wanted and expected a loving,

         excited male.



              A male hand roughly grabbed her right breast to kneed

         it.  The treatment was too harsh and hurt her flesh but it

         was something and she responded with a moan and tensing of

         her body.  She pleaded, both for him continue and to be more

         gentle, but the words never formed and only whining noises

         came out of the leather gag.



              Steve squeezed the breast and pinched the rigid nipple

         but his heart just wasn't in it.  "Hell," he said, "I need a

         drink."  He left and there followed sound of banging and

         clinking glass.  He looked mad when he reappeared.  "Shit,

         ain't got nothin' here."  He sniffed again and eyed Lynda.

         "Ain't you the dumbest broad.  Shit, I didn't tell you to get

         all dressed up funny.  And I'll be the one to tie you up when

         I want it.  You did that yourself?"  Lynda nodded.  "Hell,

         ain't that stupid!  A cunt that ties herself up!  Shit, I

         need a drink."  He stumbled away and Lynda heard the front

         door slam.



              Lynda's heart sank as her hopes for a fantastic night

         disappeared.  She wanted to cry.  Steve would go out and find

         his drink.  And another.  He wouldn't be back into very late,

         if then.  There had been times when he didn't come back until

         late the next day.



              Lynda wanted to scream with frustration.  She jerked

         against the handcuffs but only hurt her wrists.  Then

         suddenly she froze as it dawned on her that when Steve had

         stumbled out, there also went her freedom.  She had wanted

         him to keep her tied down and make love to her all night.

         Now she just wanted out.



              Now her efforts were not to please a man but to

         really escape.  But, after ten minutes of frantic struggling

         she had only tightened down the ropes on her ankles and hurt

         her wrists.  Her body still lay stretched out invitingly on

         the bed.  Too bad there was no man to accept that invitation.



              Just as Lynda was accepting the long, lonely wait she

         would have until Steve sobered up and came home, there was

         the front door opening.  Lynda sucked in her breathe and hope

         flared inside.  But a minute later a head showed at the door

         way and it wasn't Steve.  This man was handsome but older and

         carried a package.  He seemed very surprised to find a nearly

         naked girl tied down to a bed but not shocked.  He entered

         and put the package down on the dresser.



              For a while the two looked at each other, Lynda fearful

         and embarrassed, the man puzzled.  Then he frowned.  Then he

         smiled.  "Now let me figure this out," he said.  "Steve knew

         his father was coming over tonight with some of his stuff

         from home.  Being a little crazy, like his old man, he

         decides that he's going to give me a birthday present.  It's

         only two weeks away, you know."  He paused and stroked his

         chin.  "But what to give his old man who has everything?

         Then it comes to him: give him a girl!  And what does he do?

         He gets the girl, probably a professional lady of the

         evening, to dress up in a way that he knew would turn on a

         man old enough to remember seamed nylons.  And he ties her

         down to his bed and leaves her there for his father to find."



              He shook his head in wonderment.  "I would never had

         thought Steve could have come up with such a wild idea.  And

         so much an appreciated one."



              He smiled warmly down at the imprisoned girl and began

         taking his clothes off.  Lynda lay there stunned for long

         seconds then began struggling against the ropes.



              "Don't worry, dear, your performance is great.  I do so

         love the way a girl looks when she's tied up and helpless.

         And you're about the best looking thing I've ever seen.

         Steve sure can pick them."



              Lynda cried out and moaned.  She knew her body was

         exciting this man with its struggled but she also had to

         communicate to him that he was totally wrong!  She pulled and

         twisted, aware that it was a great show but for the wrong

         reason.



              Suddenly Steve's father was down to nothing and Lynda

         gasped.  This man might have been older than she but that

         body was fine looking, trim and firm.  There might be a touch

         of grey at the temples but that rod was erect, pointed

         straight at her pussy and huge!  Lynda whined pitifully then

         sighed.  She wanted to laugh.  She was getting what she

         wanted but from the wrong man!  Then she forgot about

         laughing as he climbed upon the bed and began.



              It came as a shock to the helpless girl when this man

         didn't just push her thin panties aside and ram that huge rod

         home.  Instead he began stroking her legs with gentle hands.



              After initial fear, she settled down.  This man knew

         what he was doing!  The gentle fingers traced lines upon her

         bare skin and over nyloned skin.  They tickled and teased and

         simulated nerve endings where Lynda hadn't realized she even

         had nerves.  The spread and bound legs could not be closed

         and the inside of her thighs became a prime target for his

         attentions.  Then he was along side her, his fingers and

         tongue teasing her nipples.



              Lynda was surprised to find that she was already

         sexually excited and his man was playing upon her body like

         it was a fine instrument and he an expert.  Soon she was

         moaning and swaying the few inches allowed her body as she

         responded to his touch.  Then his head disappeared from her

         view between her legs.  At first Lynda was puzzled but then

         she felt the panties pulled aside and her private part

         opened.  Suddenly she jerked, baffled by a feeling she had

         never felt.  Then she moaned in sincere pleasure and

         surrendered herself to the incredible sensations as his

         tongue lapped her most private and sensitive spot.  With

         skilled hands and tongue this man took her to heights she

         hadn't believed possible.  No man had every done a thing but

         squeeze her breasts until she was juicy and ready then rammed

         home his tool until he came.  But this man drove her crazy

         with pleasure she had never known existed.  She crashed into

         a series of orgasms that left her whole body trembling.



              Then he entered her, slowly and gently, and began a love

         making such as she had never experienced.  Several orgasms

         later she was crying out in mindless pleasure as her body

         arched hard upward to meet his body.  She floated away.



              A long time later Lynda came back to earth.  She slowly

         became aware that she was still bound to the bed but the gag

         had been taken out.  Steve's father was siting in a chair,

         reading a book and smoking a pipe.  The sweet aroma drifted

         over to the captive girl.



              "Glad to see you're back with the living," he said

         warmly as he put the book down.  "You spaced out for a while.

         Never have understood how women do that but it must be

         wonderful."



              "It is," Lynda whispered.  "It is."



              "Good."



              "But I have to tell you that I'm not..."



              "Not a professional?"



              Lynda frowned.  "You knew?"



              "Of course.  I've seen your picture.  From Steve.  By

         the way, my name is Mark."



              "Hello, Mark.  Please excuse if I don't shake hands,"

         Lynda replied with a laugh in her voice.  She liked this man.



              "You're forgiven."



              "But if you knew I wasn't a...  Professional, why did

         you..."



              "Why did I make up that little story?  Well, I figured

         that if you liked what I did to you, you wouldn't mind.  And

         if you didn't like it , I'd just leave you tied down and

         gagged and let you think it was all a misunderstanding.  You

         did liked it, didn't you?"



              "It was the most wonderful thing I've every felt."



              "Good.  Do you want to be untied now?"



              Lynda paused before replying.  "What are my options?"



              "Well, I can untie you and we'll go our separate paths.

         Or I can leave you tied and replace the gag for Steve to find

         you whenever he returns.  He drinking again?"



              "Yes."



              "Or...  I can leave you tied down and rape you again."

         He smiled.  "Later I'll untie you and we'll go some place for

         a nice late dinner."



              Lynda found herself with two emotions.  One was a very

         strong attraction for to this man.  The other was a tingle

         and warmth beginning in her pussy.  Here was a man who had

         all the nice features of Steve without the bad.  And without

         the low sex drive.  She could see his rod was again standing

         upright, pointing at her.  She smiled back.  "I'll take

         option number three.  Rape away!"



              But as he was beginning to excite her captive body she

         had more practical thoughts.  "Are you good at tying a girl

         up?"



              "An expert."



              "Do you like it?  Ohhh, that's the right spot!"



              "Love it."



              "Are you married?"



              "Not any more."



              "Got a girlfriend?  Ohhhh...  That's nice."



              "Not right now."



              "Want one?  OOOOOOOHHHHHH!  OOOOHHHHHH!  TAKE ME!"



              "Okay."







                        The End





         THEEND







         Justice is Blind

         by John Savage



              "And would you tell the Court in your own words, Mrs.

         Markham, of the events that happened to you on the evening of

         July 24th at the hands of your husband?" asked Sleazer of

         Sleazer, Sleazer and Hardcore, the attorney representing the

         beautiful and well-built Mrs Markham.

              "Well, I was getting ready to go to bed when my husband

         tied me up and raped me!  He had me all tied up and took

         advantage of my helpless condition."

              "Mrs. Markham," interrupted the Judge.  "It would help

         these divorce proceedings if you could give myself and the

         jury a better idea of precisely what happened.  For example,

         can you tell us exactly how he tied you?"

              "Your Honor," interrupted Attorney Sleazer, "we have

         anticipated such questions and with Mrs. Markham's help have

         prepared an exhibit that will show you and the jury exactly

         what Mr. Markham did to his wife."

              "Proceed," said the Judge, agreeably.

              Attorney Sleazer motioned to an aide near the back of

         the courtroom who in turn opened the doors and disappeared

         for a second.  When he return he was escorting a beautiful

         brunette wearing baby-doll pajamas and had her arms bound

         behind her back.  They walked down the aisle to where

         Attorney Sleazer held open the low gate for her to approach

         the bench.

              "The exhibit you see is as an accurate a representation

         as can be made," Attorney Sleazer said.  The girl you see is

         a professional model chosen because her general size and

         build is very close to Mrs. Markham."  The judge leaned

         forward for a better look.  He had to agreed that this woman

         was indeed build very much like Mrs. Markham, both having

         larger than average breasts and very shapely legs.  Attorney

         Sleazer continued, "As you can see, Mr. Markham tied his

         wife's arms behind her back with the wrists crossed and the

         elbows linked by that rather tight winding of ropes here.  We

         have even tried to duplicate the condition of her clothing

         after his sexual assault.  This is Mrs. Markham's actually

         pajamas.  You will note the torn condition of the baby-doll,

         exposing one breast without shame."

              Turning to Mrs. Markham, he continued, "Would you please

         tell the court exactly what he did to you after he bound your

         arms in this cruel manner?"

              "Yes.  Well, he fondled my breasts for a while as

         I was standing there, still frozen in shock at the quickness

         with which he had tied my arms.  Then he messaged my...  My

         sexual parts until I was...  Well, until I was rather horny.

         Then he threw me on the bed and pulled off the bottom of my

         baby-doll."

              "Like this?" asked Attorney Sleazer as he pulled down

         the model's filly panties.  She cooperated by lifting each

         foot to allow him to remove them completely.  He lifted them

         high for all to see.

              "Yes.  And while I was laying there, nearly naked and

         helpless, he...  Well, what you said, he assaulted me."  She

         paused dramatically for several seconds then added, with a

         slight smile, "three times."

              "But this was not the end of his mistreatment of you,

         was it?" prompted Attorney Sleazer.

              "No.  When I came to after swooning, I found he had tied

         me another way.  It was terrible and most embarrassing."

              "If it pleases the court, I have prepared another

         exhibit to demonstrate this new and shameful bondage he

         subjected her to."  Attorney Sleazer motioned again and

         another girl was escorted into the courtroom and up to the

         judge's bench.  Exhibit A moved aside to stand by the jury

         box, only a few inches from the ogling eyes of twelve honest

         men and women.  Mostly men.

              This new exhibit was a blonde of the same shapely curves

         and large breasts of Mrs. Markham.  It had been difficult for

         her to make her way down the aisle because her legs were tied

         together at the ankles and knees.  She had to hop.  Her arms

         were also tied, behind her back and in a most cruel fashion.

         A harness of rope had been made by wrapping rope around each

         shoulder and across her back.  Her hands had then been pulled

         high up on her back, crossed and bound, both to each other

         and to the harness.  It was obvious that not only was it

         impossible for her to lower her hands, but that this position

         was very uncomfortable.  The tattered remains of a baby-doll

         was hanging from her shoulders, held on mostly by the rope

         harness.  Both breasts were sticking out in front and the

         nipples were erect.  There was no bottom to the pajamas.

              "You Honor will please note that at this point Mrs.

         Markham was so close to being naked as to hardly be called

         clothed.  Since Mr. Markham was left bound like this for a

         total of four hours, we tied this model in this manner before

         this morning's session about six hours ago so that

         she would reflect the same amount of pain and discomfort Mrs.

         Markham experienced."  He turned to Mrs. Markham.  "And

         please tell the court what he did to you while you were tied

         up like this."

              "He...  He whipped my bottom."

              "Like this?"  Attorney Sleazer withdrew the belt from

         his pants.  Without being told to, the model turned her back

         to the bench and bent over.  A swish and a crack sounded and

         the model jerked upright with a cry of pain.  "As your Honor

         can see, we have simulated the approximately two dozen

         strokes given to Mrs. Markham by a whipping given to this

         model right after she was tied."  He waved Exhibit B aside

         and she hopped off to stand by Exhibit A.  "Then what

         happened, Mrs. Markham?"

              "Well, after he whipped my bottom he made me kneel down

         and...  Well, a lady can hardly say such a thing out loud.

         He forced me to... to...  To perform an oral sexual act."

              The model was helped down to her knees where she bowed

         forward and lifted her head.  She made an "O" of her open

         mouth.

              "That's quite alright, Your Honor, you needn't come down

         from the bench.  If you'll return and zip your pants back up

         I'm sure we can arrange for a private demonstration of this

         part in your chambers.  Later.  Thank you.  Now, what

         happened after that."

              "Well, after he was satisfied he went to sleep on the

         couch and left me laying on the floor.  I think I stayed

         there for about four hours.  Then he woke up."

              "And what happened to you then?"

              "He untied my arms but tied me another way before I knew

         what was happening.  This time he tied me to some kind of

         wooden framework he had made in the garage."

              There was a commotion at the rear of the courtroom.

         "That's only my aides bring in Exhibit C.  We took the wooden

         framework from that garage to introduce as evidence." Three

         men were manhandling a large and bulky object down the aisle.

         Beyond the fact that it was taller than a man and about six

         feet long, nothing could be seen of the details because the

         whole thing was covered with a tarp.

              "What happened then, Mrs. Markham?"

              "When my husband finished tying me to that thing he...

         well he put a plastic vibrator inside my pussy and turned it

         on.  Then he left!"

              "How long did he leave you, Mrs. Markham?"

              "Until the next day.  About noon, I think it was."

              "Your Honor, we have again set up a demonstration of the

         exact torment Mrs. Markham was made to undergo.  We introduce

         Exhibit C."  With a flourish he pulled the tarp free.

              The framework was a rectangle.  The model was tied with

         arms and legs wide spread in an "X", each limb tied with rope

         and pulled extremely tightly towards one of the corners.  She

         was completely naked.  And she was completely upside down!  A

         wire ran from a couple of car batteries on the wheeled cart

         the framework rested on, up one side, over to the center top

         and then down, straight into the upturned pussy.  Nothing

         could be seen of the end of the wire but a humming noise and

         the twitching and jerkings of the girl's hips suggested that

         the mentioned vibrator was inside the model's pussy,

         vibrating its little heart out.  The girl's eyes were closed

         and her body was covered in a fine sweat.  Trembles passed

         along her taut legs muscles and along her belly.  Her hips

         rocked back and forth the few inches allowed her by the

         extremely tight bondage, approximating the sexual thrustings

         of a highly excited woman.

              "In the interests of accuracy we secured this model in

         the same manner as Mrs. Markham had been.  Including the

         vibrator.  She has been subject to this treatment for

         approximately the same six hours that Mrs. Markham was."

              At a wave of his hand the aides rolled the framework

         over to the jury box, placing it so that the front side of

         the naked and suspended girl, the one with all the good

         parts, was facing the jury.  Occasionally the upside down

         girl cried out soft moans of pleasure and shook her head but

         her eyes never opened and, although not gagged, she never

         once protested this harsh treatment nor begged to be let

         loose.

              "And then what happened, Mrs. Markham?" continued

         Attorney Sleazer.

              "Well, he came out to the garage and untied me.  He

         apologized for what he had done to me, blaming it on the fact

         that he was drunk at the time."

              "I'm sure your Honor and the ladies and gentlemen of the

         jury can see through these exhibits just how cruelly Mrs.

         Markham was treated at the hands of her husband."

              The judge and jury were certainly staring hard at the

         exhibits aligned before them.  Exhibit B had bent over so the

         jury could see her bruised bottom better.  Exhibit A was

         waving her exposed breast in the face of anyone she could get

         to pay attention.  Exhibit C just kept on moaning.

              "After experiencing this terrible treatment you felt you

         were forced to sue for divorce, right Mrs. Markham?"

              "Yes.  He did all those things to me and then said he

         was ashamed of how he had treated me and would never even

         dream of doing anything like that again.  Can you imagine,

         that brute absolutely refused to do any of that stuff to me

         again!  Of course I have to divorce the cad!"

                            The End





         Susan's Story -- Part I: Immobility

              The following is a letter written by Susan at my

         request.  Susan is a very real person and a sweet girl, and

         I have placed her in enough strict bondage to knew full well

         just how much she loves it.  I have cleaned up the spelling

         and grammar a bit but other than that this is Susan's story.

         I hope you enjoy it.



                                John Savage





          Dear People,



               My name is Susan and I was asked by John Savage if I

          would write to you and tell something about the way I enjoy

          being tied up.  I understand you are interested in

          submissive females.  I guess I qualify as one.  I'm female

          and I love to be tied up.  Maybe that sounds strange but I

          like it.  I'm not sure I can explain why but I do and that's

          all that I care about.



               My first heavy bondage experiences came when I was a

          college student, a junior majoring in English, and living in

          the dorms on campus.  My roommate, Nancy, understood my love

          of bondage and tied me up when we could get away with it.  A

          dorm room isn't always the most private of places so we

          worked it out that she only tied me up after most everyone

          had gone to bed and we weren't likely to get visitors or on

          a weekend when a lot of the students go home.  We were

          planning to get an apartment as soon as we could, but at

          that time we lived in the dorm.



               Nancy and I got to talking at the beginning of the year

          about sex and it sort of came out that I feel real sexually

          excited when I'm tied up.  I thought she would laugh but

          instead she said that she understood and would help me if I

          wanted.  We got some rope from a hardware store and began

          experimenting.  We did it at night with the lights out.  I

          would light a small candle so we had some light.  Usually I

          wore my panties only.  At first I used to wear a bathing

          suit or my panties and bra.  But after a while I got to

          wearing only a pair of panties and sometimes Nancy would

          tease my nipples after she'd made me all helpless.  But

          that's all she did.  She's not lesbian and I didn't mind.  I

          think back and am sure it would have been fun if she were,

          but back then I was so happy being well bound that I didn't

          mind the lack of other sexual attention.



               Anyway, we got to playing around.  At first she wasn't

          too good at tying me.  I'm kind of strong for a girl, and

          the first few times I could get out easily.  But Nancy

          learned that I don't mind being tied real tight.  She also

          learned that I'm serious about being tied.  I want it for

          real.  I mean, if I can get undone, what's the use of being

          tied?  So she got good at tying me until she tied real tight

          and I never got free, no matter how long I struggled.



              We found that what worked best was to tie me and leave

         me tied for long periods.  Since she didn't have sex with

         me, all the pleasure I got is from being tied.  And I like

         being tied up for long times, sometimes hours.  I have

         rather good circulation and can stand being tied for a very

         long time.  Nancy knew that and wasn't afraid that she'd

         hurt me or anything.



              Usually I got tied at night.  Since we didn't stay up

         real late but didn't dare get me tied until after about ten

         or so, we didn't have much time.  I mean, both of us would

         have been terribly embarrassed if someone were to come by to

         visit and find me tied, nearly naked, to a chair in the

         middle of the room.  Nancy wouldn't have liked it either and

         would probably never have tied me again.  We turned out the

         lights and I lit the small candle on my desk.  We made sure

         the door was locked and even put a piece of cloth along the

         bottom so that not even the candle light showed out.  Then I

         took off my clothes down to the panties.  Usually Nancy

         would ask me how I wanted to be tied.  My favorite ways are

         what they call a hog tie and being tied to something real

         solid.  I wished we had had a big, round wooden post in the

         middle of our room but we didn't.   Usually I got tied on my

         bed but sometimes to the chair.  I liked to struggle and

         that's why I liked to be tied to something solid, so I

         couldn't move much and couldn't make noise.  One of the best

         ways we found was for Nancy to tie my arms behind my back.

         She used the clothesline we bought and I hid in my suitcase.

         She pulled my arms together real tight, even making my

         elbows touch behind my back.  She always tied the knots up

         by my elbows, where my fingers couldn't reach them.



              After my arms are tied real tight I sat down in the

         chair.  We had metal chairs and they're pretty strong.  I

         put my arms over the back of the chair and Nancy tied a rope

         around my waist and the chair back.  Then she tied my left

         ankle to the left back chair leg.  Then my right ankle to

         the right chair leg in the back.  She tied the ankles up

         near the seat so that my legs are bent double and really

         forced up.  She tied them to the back of the chair so they

         couldn't slide down the metal chair leg.  I had to spread my

         legs real wide but that's okay.  Then she tied a rope from

         my wrists down under the chair and up the front.  She pulled

         that rope through the rope around my waist and back down to

         my wrists again.  Then back up to my waist where she tied

         it.  That pulled my arms down and prevented me from moving

         them from side to side or reaching for any of the knots on

         my ankles.  It also sort of locked my body against the chair

         back.



              After all that she was usually finished.  I was tied up

         pretty good and couldn't move much.  My legs couldn't move

         at all because of the way they were bent and tied to the

         back legs of the chair.  My arms couldn't move and my back

         was held against the back of the chair.  About the only

         things I could move were my head and feet and my fingers.

         It's a real way to be tied, let me tell you!  I remember

         that I began to feel helpless when she brought my first leg

         up and tied the ankle.  By the time she was finished, I was

         feeling real helpless and kind of tingling inside.



              Oh, I'll have to tell you about the time we tried to

         make me completely immobile.  Nancy tied me just as I've

         described but before she tied my hands behind me, we wrapped

         my hands with tape.  I made each hand into a fist and she

         wrapped what is called strapping tape around and around my

         hands until there was no way I could open my fists.  Then,

         after she tied my arms with the elbows touching, she wrapped

         more tape around both hands, taping the fists together.  I

         couldn't even wiggle my fingers!  Then, after I was tied to

         the chair in the usual fashion, she tied some cord around my

         big toes and pulled it back up to my elbows.  Can you imagine

         what I'm saying?  First off, my feet were pulled back and

         tied to the chair legs so that the bottoms of my feet were

         pointed back and sort of up.  Then she tied my big toes up

         towards my elbows so that I had to bend my feet into an arch

         that was downright painful.  But it keep my feet from

         moving.  I couldn't unbend my feet at all and since the big

         toes were pulled inward as well as up, I couldn't even move

         them from side to side.



              Then there came my head.  Normally I could move my head

         around.  Didn't do me any good but I could move it.  But

         that one night we were going to try and make it so I

         couldn't move at all and we had to do something about the

         head.  Nancy had a piece of round wood that we had screwed

         two metal rings into the ends of.  She put that in my mouth

         and tied cord to the two rings at the ends.  I'm sure you

         can guess what came next.  Those cords went down to my

         elbows and were pulled until my head was forced back.  I had

         to look up at the ceiling.  It held my head from moving

         forward or backward.  But we discovered that I could still

         shake my head somewhat from side to side.  For a while it

         looked like there was nothing that we could do but Nancy

         came up with an idea.



              I have pierced ears.  Nancy just put on me a pair of my

         earrings that are nothing more than gold hoops.  Then she

         tied a piece of cord to one earring and stretched it across

         the room to my desk where she tied it to one of the desk

         legs.  The other earring she tied cross the room to a leg of

         her bed.  She pulled both cords pretty hard until my ears

         were being pulled away from my head and hurt.  But it

         worked!  I couldn't shake my head from side to side because

         I would probably rip the flesh of my ear.



              So there I was.  My body was completely unmoving and

         unmovable.  I couldn't talk with that wood in my mouth so I

         was gagged.  I really felt helpless.  Nancy tickled me for a

         while.  That may not sound like much, but under the

         condition my poor body was in, it was torture! She even

         tickled my breasts a bit and I loved that.  Then she left me

         alone.  And I mean alone!  She actually left the room with

         me sitting there all helpless and hurting.  It was wonderful

         and terrible at the same time!  I could feel myself getting

         all hot and excited inside but couldn't do a thing.  Usually

         I can struggle some and, if Nancy was kind when she tied me,

         sometimes rub my private parts against something to get

         sexual satisfaction.  But that night I couldn't move a thing

         and it was terrible.  I was horny as hell but couldn't do a

         thing about it.  I wish I could say that I managed a climax

         just from the terrible helplessness but I didn't.  I need

         some contact with my private part.  It doesn't have to be

         much but it should be something.



              When Nancy came back I was terribly frustrated and

         hurting.  Of course, I was also exactly as she left me.

         After she untied me (about an hour total time from the

         moment she put the last knot in place to the time she

         started to untie me), I threw myself on my bed and

         masturbated like crazy.  I didn't even care if Nancy saw me

         doing it.



              But we did that only once.  Nancy agreed that we should

         try it again only this time go for two hours instead of one.

         She figured (and I was forced to agree) that if she just

         leaves me alone I'll have to set a new time record of two

         hours.  Or three hours.  Or whatever she wanted!



              Well, that explains about the time we tried to make me

         completely immobile.  I know it isn't the same reading about

         it as living it but I hope you enjoyed my story as much as

         I've enjoyed writing it for you.  It sure brought back

         memories for me!







                             Yours,



                             Susan



         Susan's Story -- Part II: The Hogtie





              The following is another story related to me by Susan,

         a real girl who has lived more bondage experiences than most

         people fantasize about.  She loves bondage and has been tied

         up more than anyone else I can think of.  And I should know,

         it has been my ropes around her many times.  Here she tells

         us more about her college days and an interesting hogtie.

                               John Savage





              My name is Susan and John insisted I write down some

         more about my experiences.  He promised that he would reward

         me with a nice tight hogtie while he read my letter and

         typed it into his computer.  And that reminded me of an

         interesting afternoon I once spent in a hogtie.

              If you read my first letter, you know that my first

         heavy bondage experiences came when I was a college student,

         at the hands of my roommate, Nancy.  She was a delightful

         girl to have a as a friend and understood my love of bondage

         completely.  She used to find the damnest ways for me to be

         tied up, usually in our dorm room and apartment but also all

         over the campus.

              Being that helpless is nice and one of the best ways to

         be tied is the hogtie.  Generally Nancy hogtied me on the

         bed.  That worked like this.  I got undressed.  She tied my

         arms behind me with the elbows touching.  Then I sat on the

         edge of the bed while she tied my ankles and above my knees.

         Then I rolled onto the middle of the bed on my stomach.  She

         tied my ankles up to my wrists until they are touching, that

         is, my fingers are spread wide and my palms pressed against

         the backs of my ankles.  But that wasn't all.  Then she tied

         a rope from my knees down the end of the bed and to the

         rails underneath.  Then she tied a loop of rope around my

         neck and down the top of the bed.  Those two ropes kept me

         stretched out and from struggling too much.  If I struggled

         from side to side, the rope around my neck tightened.

              That type of hogtie isn't too bad.  I can take it for

         hours on end.  But the longest time was one Sunday.  It was

         a holiday weekend and the dorms were pretty empty.  Nancy

         was going out on a date that day and would be gone all

         afternoon.  I asked her to tie me while she was gone.  I

         expected to be just tied arms behind me and legs together

         like we often did when she left me tied all night.  But

         instead she ordered me to strip naked, I mean completely

         naked, and then she hogtied me.  It was a good hogtie, the

         elbows were touching and my hands were tight against my

         ankles.  Even my knees were tight together.   Then she

         surprised me.  I had thought she was going to leave me on

         the bed.  I was pretty sure she wouldn't put a rope around

         my neck, we didn't do that when she left me alone.  But she

         rolled me onto the floor and I found myself laying on my

         stomach on the rough carpet.  Then she rocked me back and

         forth and sort of pulled me until she had me over to the

         closet.  She took out all the shoes and rocked me into the

         place under the clothes pole.  She took my clothes off the

         pole and put them on my bed.  I could look up and see the

         wooden pole and knew what she was going to do.  I was scared

         but excited!  How can I describe the terror and wonder and

         excitement at the thought of being made so extremely

         helpless and left alone?

              Nancy took a piece of rope and tied it to my elbow

         bondage.  She knotted it several times firmly then ran it up

         to the pole over me and back down to the elbows.  There she

         pulled until I could feel my elbows being pulled slightly

         up.  Then she knotted the rope several more times and left

         me.  A little experimentation showed me how helpless I was.

         I could struggled.  I could even rock from side to side a

         bit.  But I couldn't roll over on my side and I couldn't

         crawl (a nearly impossible thing when hogtied like that

         anyway).  I couldn't move more than an inch or so in any

         direction before that rope connecting my elbows to the pole

         stopped me.  I was so deliciously helpless!

              I struggled.  Then I rested.  Then I struggled again.

         They were serious struggles.  I can't just pretend.  When I

         struggle I really try to get free with all my might.  But I

         was helpless.  I figured later that she left me about eleven

         in the morning.  She didn't come home from her date until

         well after dinner, about nine that night -- ten hours in a

         helpless hogtie!

              I was exhausted when she opened the door and turned on

         the light.  I was in pain.  I had also experienced about a

         dozen orgasms, entirely from struggling against the ropes

         and rubbing my breasts and pussy against the rough carpet.

         Nancy told me that her date wanted her to spend the night at

         his apartment and she was going to but that she told him she

         had to pick up some things back at her dorm room.  She said

         she didn't think it would have been good to leave me all day

         and then all night.  She untied me, grabbed a change of

         underwear and left.  I was a naked, exhausted, pile of flesh

         and rope on the floor.  But I was happy.

              I don't mean to say I was excited and turned on and

         enjoying every minute of it.  Far from it!  There were times

         during that ten hours and in bondage since when I truly

         wished I were free.  There was pain, real pain.  My

         shoulders hurt so much that I could hardly bring my arms

         around in front of my body when she untied me.  There were

         many times (between orgasms) when I cursed myself for every

         letting such things happen to me.

              But I still go back and ask again.  And come up with

         even wilder, more cruel, heavier bondage for Nancy or anyone

         to put me in.  Does that make sense? I don't think so but I

         also don't care.  I know what I like.  I know what I need.





         Hanging Upside Down and the Feather



         an excerpt from "Dragon's Lair"



         a novel by John Savage



              Close call, she told herself.  "Young Reporter Becomes

         White Slave," was almost the headline.  After her pulse

         slowed to somewhere close to normal, Lynn went the the

         center of the room where the redhead had so recently been

         fixed.  Fascinated, she stared at the hanging chain and the

         wooden triangle.  So simple, yet so effective at causing

         discomfort and pain.  She put one foot on the wooden

         triangle and reached up to grab the hanging chain with one

         hand.  Her other hand reached behind her and grabbed her

         right foot as it bend back and up.



              Even through the rubber soles of her shoes she could

         feel the sharp edge.  For a minute she held the position,

         noting the stress on her right thigh, wondering what it

         would be like to have to stand there, to really have one

         wrist handcuffed to the chain and the other wrist

         handcuffed to the opposite ankle behind her back, not just

         playing make-believe like now.  And to stand for an hour,

         alone, held by cruel, heartless metal, muscles aching.  Then

         a second hour.  Would a third be possible?  Would she have

         any choice?  Of course not.  She would stand and stand and

         stand until some other individual, some savior, came to free

         her from the clutch of hard metal.



              Lynn let go and dropped her leg.  She shook her head.

         Three hours that girl had been left in this tortous position!

         The word agony came to her mind.



              She left the room to find the hallway empty.  For a

         second Lynn considered getting out of there as fast as she

         could.  One good scare should be enough to teach any

         reasonable young girl a lesson.  But she was a reporter and

         never claimed to be reasonable.  Her consideration of escape

         lasted only long enough for her to realize that there were

         major elements still missing from her story.  Like who the

         white slavers were and where they got their girls from.  And

         where did they send them to?



              The next door led to another small room.  In the center

         was a single metal pole coming up from the floor and ending

         a little over three feet later.  It was topped with a huge

         rubber penis.  There were two small rings attached to the

         base of the pole.  It didn't take Lynn long to figure out

         that a girl could be made to straddle that dildoe, to be

         lowered onto it until it was up inside her....   If her

         ankles were tied to those rings...  Well, the girl wouldn't

         be walking away, that was for sure.



              Lynn stood by the pole and measured it against her

         body.  She would have to stand on her toes but it wouldn't

         be too bad.  If her hands were tied behind her and her

         ankles secured to those rings...  Lynn shuddered a little at

         the thought.  She would be very helpless, unable to step off

         that upthrusting pole.  And that huge dildoe, molded into a

         good likeness of a male organ, would certainly fill up her

         pussy, fill it like no human penis had ever done.  Lynn was

         no virgin but not a prostitute either.  She had seen a few

         male rods, but never one quite like this.  It wasn't the

         length so much as it was the width.  It would certain make

         her feel filled.  And, unlike its human model, this penis

         would never go limp.



              Lynn sighed.  There had been a few times where the

         human flesh had been a little weak and Lynn had lost out on

         some good love-making just when she was most ready for it.

         Those times she would have wished her lover had the

         staying-power of this rubber monster.



              Tearing herself away from that line of thinking, Lynn,

         checked the hallway and went out the door.



              The next door was a the end of the hallway and didn't

         open into another torture room as she had expected it to.

         Instead it revealed an observation room.  There was four

         empty, comfortable chairs, leather covered and very plush.

         The chairs faced three large windows set into an otherwise

         blank wall.  The arrangement allowed a person to sit in any

         of the chairs and view what was going on in any of three

         rooms on the other side of those window.  And there was

         certainly activities going on to watch.



              Lynn's first reaction was to retreat before anyone on

         the other side of the glass saw there.  But before she

         turned to go something caught her attention.  Each of the

         three rooms revealed seemed dark, darker than they should be

         if one allowed for the normal levels of light the humans

         liked.  Then it dawned on her; these were one-way mirrors!

         She could see easily into the other rooms, but they would

         see only a mirror even if they looked directly at her.



              Assured of concealment for the present, Lynn approached

         the first window on the left.  There were two girls in that

         room, and Lynn had trouble believing what they were doing.

         One of the girls was of Mexican ancestry.  Her hair was long

         and shiny black and her skin was chocolate.  Because she was

         naked, Lynn could see that she had the large breasts and

         muscular legs of many of the young Mexican girls.  Lynn

         guessed her age at no more than nineteen.



              The other girl was kind of plain, a mousy looking woman

         in her mid-twenties, her hair halfway between brown and

         blonde, her figure slender but not remarkable.  She was also

         nude.  Her breasts were only medium sized but held good

         firmness and shape.  Her muscle tone was good, Lynn guessed

         that she played tennis once a week.  A typical, average sort

         of woman.  The kind you see hundreds of times on the street

         or in a supermarket and never give a second thought to.



              But it was the mousy little one who was free and the

         muscular, larger girl who was bound up and helpless.  The

         raven haired girl was hanging upside down, her ankles lashed

         to a pole, which forced her legs wide apart.  The center of

         the pole had a ring bolted to it and a steel cable hooked to

         the ring.  On the ceiling was an electric motor and hoist.

         That explained how the heavy girl had been pulled up until

         her head was a good three feet off the floor.  Her arms were

         bound behind her back with the wrists facing each other and

         the elbows tied.  The elbows weren't touching but the

         clothesline was cutting so deep into the flesh just above

         the elbows that Lynn was convinced that who ever had done

         the bondage had tried very hard to make the elbows touch.

         That they fell two inches short of that goal was the fault

         of the solid build of the Mexican girl, not the efforts of

         the binder.



              Neither girl showed the slightest interest in Lynn's

         direction so she walked up right to the window to watch.

         The mousy brunette circled the hanging girl, one hand

         lightly touching her body here and there.  Every time she

         touched, the hanging girl jerked the body away.  Lynn looked

         closer then she laughed.  The hanging girl wasn't struggling

         to escape the sharp attention of a needle, nor the burning

         sensations of a red-hot poker.  She was jerking to avoid a

         feather!



              It seemed funny to Lynn at first but the more she

         thought about it the more it made sense.  Being helpless and

         tickled could be real torture.  Especially for someone who

         was very sensitive.  Lynn remembered being tickled by her

         cousin while he sat on her.  That hadn't lasted too long but

         it was bad enough.  Who knows how long this tickling had

         been going on?  Or how much more sensitive your body became

         when completely naked and hanging upside down?



              The brunette continued to circle the tormented girl.

         The feather danced over the exposed body, seeking and

         finding the most sensitive spots, the tenderest nerves.  The

         large breasts, strangely shaped by the reversed gravity,

         were a favorite target, as were the smooth insides of the

         velvet brown thighs.  With each jerk the long black hair

         swayed and danced in the space between the girl's head and

         the floor.



              As one hand teased with that horrid feather, the other

         unashamedly toyed and stroked the brunette's pussy.  She was

         enjoying this work.



              Lynn watched, sensing that the drama had been building

         for sometime and was approaching a climax, perhaps in more

         ways than one.



              Another turn around the hanging body and the brunette

         stopped.  The feather fell, unnoticed.  Both girls were

         breathing hard although Lynn could hear nothing on her side

         of the glass.  She had noticed they were talking before this

         but had been unable to make out any words.  The two girls

         held hard eye-contact for several long heart beats, both

         with their legs wide spread and braced, one firmly on the

         ground, the other hanging upside down.  Then the hanging

         girl slowly closed her eyes.  The muscles in her ass began

         clenching and relaxing, thrusting her hips gently forward

         the few inches this strained position allowed them.



              The scene remained static; the only movement was the

         slow swaying of the hanging girl as her hips thrust and

         relaxed, an indication of the burning within.  Slowly her

         eyes opened again.  They met the brunette's again and held.

         Tormentor and tormented.  But there was a bond between them:

         both woman had bodies that burned with desire, ached for

         release.



              The brunette stepped forward and lowered her mouth over

         the inverted pussy.  Lower down the raven haired head lifted

         and buried itself between the brunette's thighs.  She spread

         them a little more to allow easier access then clamped her

         hands on the chocolate girl's ass.  She dug her nails in

         like a wild animal.  In a silent frenzy of passion both

         females lashed each other's clits with their tongues,

         driving each other wilder and wilder.



              For a long time the frenzied love-making continued as

         Lynn watched, fascinated.  It looked as if every muscle in

         both bodies were rock hard rigid.  The hanging girl's hands

         were clenched fists one second and fluttering fingers the

         next.



              But nothing lasts forever.  The brunette's head jerked

         up and she moaned her passion so loud that it came faintly

         through the thick glass to Lynn.  Then she fell to the floor

         where she curled up into a ball on the carpet.



              Lynn had to remember to breath.  She was surprised to

         find that she had been digging her fingernails into the

         wooden window edge.  Taking a deep breath, she shook her

         head to break the spell.  What an incredible show!  Lynn had

         never considered herself a lesbian but she was not a sexual

         innocent; she had seen two woman making love before and

         thought it interesting but little more.  But this was

         something else!  The intensity of their passion came through

         the dim glass like a physical blow.  Lynn had never seen

         anything quite like that before.



              The brunette remained on the floor, shivers playing

         over her naked body as she hugged herself, eyes closed, off

         in a private world of ecstasy.  The hanging girl arched her

         body and trembled all over for long minutes before quieting

         down.  Her eyes stayed close and her head swayed back and

         forth in dreamy circles, the tips of her long black just

         brushing the thigh of the girl on the floor.



              Lynn took a step back.  She didn't know what to think.

         Was this punishment?  If so, that Mexican girl didn't look

         very punished.  She looked as if she were deep in sexual

         satisfaction.  A reward?  Both?  Or maybe just part of the

         training?



              Lynn went to the second window and another scene from a

         madman's B&D fantasy...







                                   The End

         Hot August Day



         an excerpt from "The Bondage Master" by John Savage







              There was not the slightest hint of a breeze under the

         blazing summer sun.  I felt as if I were baking in my clothes

         but Laura probably felt worse as she stood in the direct

         sunlight wearing only a pair of high heel shoes.  Well, the

         shoes and some cotton clothesline that held her arms firmly

         secured behind her back with many cunning turns and knots far

         from the searching fingers.  I had bound her almost half an

         hour before and she had worked at the ropes nervously for all

         that time, twisting this way and that, trying to bring her

         arms in front of her body, trying anything that might allow

         her to escape her fate.  But that hot summer afternoon escape

         was not for her.  I paused by the car to look over the

         landscape, including the naked and bound girl I had brought

         into it.



              It was California desert, mostly sand with ragged rocks

         and a few stunted shrubs here and there.  The only signs of

         man were the automobile beside us and the road we had

         followed to her get here, little more than a track across the

         hot earth.  Laura stood beside me and looked nervous.  She

         couldn't say a thing because of the ball gag filling her

         mouth and securely strapped behind her head.  Keeping her

         from verbally changing her mind was a part of the game, a

         part of keeping her helpless and obedient to my wishes, no

         matter how the beautiful and very sexy woman might suffer.

         Laying in bed last night the idea of a desert bondage hike

         had seemed amusing to both of us but in this relentless heat

         she was having a great many second thoughts.  She saw me

         looking at her, eyeing her lush body, and shook her head.  I

         pretended to not see her negative and fetched a couple pieces

         of rope from the backseat.  She made whining sounds through

         her gag and came close to me.  She rubbed her body against

         mine, teasing my shirt front with her erect nipples in a need

         born not entirely from sexual hunger.  She was offering me

         the only thing she had to barter with.  I'm sure she would

         have been pulling down my zipper had not her arms been bound

         tightly behind her back.  I'm sure she figured that if I were

         to have sex with her right then I would loose the desire to

         leave her alone in this hostile environment.



              But she was lacking in bargaining power.  I would have

         taken her right there on the burning sand if I had been so

         inclined.  But, being the perverted individual I am, I

         figured she would enjoy a bit of sex much more after having

         undergone her ordeal.  I know I would.  I shook my head

         slightly and she knew her invitation had been turned down.



              Then she bend over from the waist, bowing her head down

         until it was the level of my fly and giving me a fine view of

         her bound arms.  I noted how the ropes had dug into the flesh

         just above her elbows and again below them.  The ropes were

         still very tight and firmly double and triple knotted, all up

         by the elbows were the fingers could never reach.  Laura

         nuzzled her gagged mouth against my pants in an offer that

         could hardly be misinterpreted.  But I could have easily made

         her give me a blow job, on her knees in the hot sand, her

         mouth paying homage to my maleness.  Then strap her ball gag

         back into her mouth and go on with my plans.  And she knew

         it.  After a few moments she rose with a delicious whimper of

         defeat.



              I looped her hips and wrists with a rope and wrapped a

         dozen turns, pinning her wrists against her butt.  Then I

         cinched that rope down with turns between her arms and body

         and more running down between her legs and up to her tummy.

         The rope looped over her tummy rope there and passed back

         between those lovely legs to her wrists.  A few turns there

         secured the tension I wanted.  But I had left about two feet

         of rope which I used to bring the end up to her elbows where

         the final three or four knots secured it.  I had been careful

         to pull apart her vagina lips so that the two ropes passed on

         either side of her clit.  In the finished product those ropes

         were invisible, buried under her lips and crushing her clit

         between them.  It would be an interesting hike for Laura.



              But Laura was young and healthy, a girl well able to

         take vigorous treatment as I had proven numerous times.  And

         just walking along a desert road, even with crotch ropes,

         would hardly be a challenge.  I walked around behind her as

         she stood nervously looking at me.  Her long black hair had

         been framing her lovely face and descending all the way to

         her erect nipples.  I pulled it back over her shoulders and

         carefully braided it into a single pigtail but one that came

         out high up where a ponytail would have.  Along with the soft

         hair I braided two stands of rope so that the hair and rope

         were intertwined firmly.  Then I passed the ends of rope down

         to her wrists and between the sweaty palms of her hands and

         back up to the elbows.  There I pulled gently until her head

         arched backwards.  As I kept the tension with one hand, I

         used the other to pull her forehead back until she was

         staring almost straight up.  I knotted the rope and stood

         back.



              It was a beautiful sight, a beautiful woman hardly out

         of her teens but of full and ripe body, cruelly bound.  I

         traced the line of her upturned throat down to the full and

         rigid nipples.  I cupped one heavy breast in a hand as if

         weighing it.  It was quite firm, almost as if straining to

         explode outward from her chest, so effective was the elbow

         bondage coupled with pulling the head back.  I noted a fine

         sheen of sweat on her breasts as they stood proudly in the

         bright sunlight.  She was beautiful!



              "You know the way we came," I stated as I checked the

         ankle straps on her four inch high heels.  "Just walk back

         that way.  I'll be waiting for you somewhere between here and

         the highway."  A whine of protest.  "I know that's about ten

         miles, but I won't be right at the highway so you'll only

         have to walk something less than that."



              A noise that sounded as if she might be trying to say,

         "I can't see."



              "Turn your head to the side," I commanded.  She knew

         better than to refuse.  When she turned her head she could

         see to her side, not downward but straight out as the rope

         and hair held her head very limited in its motion.  I knew

         that she would be able to follow the road.  It wouldn't be

         easy with her head bound like that but it would be possible.

         And she knew it.



              There was nothing more to say so I got in the car.  I

         drove slowly for a few yards then stopped to look back.

         Laura was turned sideways to me, her whole body shaking

         slightly, whether from anger, frustration or laughter I did

         not know.  I watched her first tentative steps on a road that

         treacherously alternated between hard earth and soft sand.

         As I drove away I was sure glad that I was a man and not

         subject to such ordeals.  Leave the torment to submissive

         women like Laura, they love and deserve it.



              I waited about half a mile away, the distance I figured

         would take her about an hour to walk.  If she didn't fall

         down too often.  I wondered how she would be able to get up

         with her arms gone and head pulled so cruelly back.  And

         with those ridiculously high heels.  I figured to wait two or

         three hours then go back and pick her up if she didn't make

         it by then.  I'd probably find her laying on the road unable

         to get back to her feet.



              It was hot and miserable.  Even the water I had brought

         was hot as I drank it.  Nothing moved in that harsh

         landscape, there was little sound beyond some kind of bird

         off to the left.  I never did see the bird.  It was so hot

         the lizards and snakes were hiding under rocks.  Sensible

         creatures.



              Laura was walking straight ahead when she came around

         the turn.  I watched her walk a dozen steps then turn to see

         what she could of the road before walking another dozen

         steps.  As she got close I could see dirt sticking to her

         sweaty body and knew she had fallen.  When she saw the car

         she made the mistake of trying to run.  I watched amused as

         she lay in the sand a dozen feet from me.  It was delightful

         to watch her struggles as she sought to regain her feet.  She

         walked the last few feet slowly and planted her legs wide

         spread when she was only an arm's length away.  She was

         breathing hard and I could have watched those magnificent

         breasts rise and fall forever.  Needless to say all the ropes

         were still on and tightly in place.  Her body language, what

         there was of it to see in such bondage, spoke of defiance.

         She had met and conquered the challenge and demanded that I

         recognize her triumph.



              Well, I did.  Dropping my fly, I exposed a rod large

         enough and rigid enough to satisfy a herd of cheerleaders.

         Too bad Laura couldn't see it with her head pulled back.  But

         I took her and roughly pushed her down to the patch of sand

         where the shadow of the car had cooled it down a bit.  Laura

         knew me, knew what was coming, and wanted it as bad as I did.

         When I lowered her to her back she arched her body up until

         she was on her head and shoulders and her feet.  Her pussy

         was arched up most invitingly and her legs spread wide as her

         high heels dug into the sand until her feet almost

         disappeared.  She was making pitiful little moaning sounds

         behind the ball gag.



              It was a beautiful sight, a masterpiece of submission

         that would bring an erection to any male.  I considered

         leaving her like that, pleading for the sexual satisfaction

         she hungered for, just to tease her, a form of torture I had

         often inflicted upon this and other helpless girls.  But,

         well, what the hell, the girl did deserve some reward.

         Besides, my prick ached so much it hurt.  I pulled apart the

         crotch ropes so they no longer covered that wonderful love

         tunnel and rammed home that female-pleasing tool.



              It was short but brutal.  I don't know which of us was

         more vigorous in our thrustings and don't really care.  I

         remember locking my arms around her hips and ramming for all

         I was worth.  It wasn't long before we both exploded into

         giant fireworks.  I think both of us cried out.



              I came back to my senses laying in the hot sand beside a

         beautiful package of woman flesh and ropes.  Her legs were

         wide spread and the body no longer arched but laying on her

         bound arms.  Her eyes were closed.  I though I could see a

         satisfied smile but that's hard to tell with her mouth filled

         with rubber ball.  In slow motion I crawled between her legs

         and pulled the crotch ropes back into place on either side of

         her clit and watched the vagina lips close over the cotton

         clothesline.  Then I helped her to her feet.  She was swaying

         slightly and kept her eyes closed.  Zipping up my fly with

         one hand, I patted her bottom with the other and told her I'd

         be waiting another mile down the road and that I figured we

         could do this for maybe eight miles before we'd be too close

         to the highway.



              Laura moaned deliciously and began walking.







                              The End

         The Date



         An excerpt from "The Adventures of a Bondage Lover"

         by Sharon Bonner as told to John Savage





              One of the most unusual dates I ever went on was not

         even my date but Monique's, my roommate.  At that time I was

         twenty-one and sharing an apartment with another girl named

         Monique.  We had discovered pretty fast that we both had a

         very deep love of bondage.  This meant that we both spent a

         fair amount of time in some form of restraint around the

         apartment.  We were both basically submissive in that we both

         preferred to be the one tied up rather than doing the tying

         but were willing to do the binding chores because it meant

         that next time we would be tied by the other.  And like there

         were some pretty fancy ways that we tied each other up.  We

         tried to outdo each other in dreaming up fantastic bondage

         games to do to each other.



              Well, this one weekend Monique told me that she had a

         new bondage position she wanted to try on me and I, being the

         biggest sucker ever born, said sure.  We went into the

         bedroom.  At Monique's suggestion I shed my clothes, not a

         long operation as we rarely wore much around the apartment.

         In fact, it wasn't uncommon for both of us to be walking

         around naked.  We were both good looking girls and had very

         nice bodies and enjoyed looking at each other.  Well, we

         enjoyed other things with each other besides looking but

         that's private.



              Monique began by tying my wrists together behind me,

         palm to palm.  Then she tied the elbows so that they touched.

         It's lucky that my elbows can easily touch behind my back

         because I get them tied that way so often.  Oh, it does get

         to hurting after a few hours but I can (and have) been tied

         with them crushed together for six hours or more.  With my

         arms well tied with clothesline behind my back, Monique

         brought out one of the ball gags and stuffed it inside my

         mouth.  Those things aren't too comfortable and taste

         terrible but they sure do keep a girl quiet.  With the ball

         strapped tightly and deeply in my mouth I can say nothing and

         make very little in the way of noise, but Monique didn't seem

         to think that was enough.  She placed wide white tape over my

         mouth, crossing it in an X shape and plastering the whole

         lower half of my face.  Then she wrapped an elastic bandage

         around the bottom half of my face very tightly.  The effect

         was to keep sound inside my mouth and there was nothing I

         could do about it.



              I was then set down on the edge of a chair and my legs

         tied.  She used our favorite cotton clothesline to bind my

         ankles together and my legs just above and below the knees.

         She helped me to my feet and stood back to survey her

         handiwork.  There was nothing too unusual about the way I was

         tied, we had both been tied that way many times.   Of course

         the gag was a little bit more severe than usual but the

         bondage was normal.



              Then came the unusual part.  She slide back the closet

         door and pointed to the end wall.  The clothes and shoes had

         been cleared away from that end and I could see a series of

         metal rings that had been screwed into the wooden wall.  The

         intent wasn't hard to figure out.  I hopped over to the

         closet, my big breasts bouncing with each jump.  When you've

         had as much practice as I have, you can hop all around the

         apartment with your legs tied.  Monique positioned me with my

         back against the wood.  Then she began to tie my body to the

         wall.



              The metal rings were set in pairs, one on each side of

         my naked body.  Each pair was very close to my body (Monique

         must have measured carefully for a good fit) and was rope

         passing from one ring to the other was used to secure my body

         firmly against the wall.  It took a while but when she was

         finished there were ropes holding my ankles to the wall.

         Also above my knees, below them, my thighs, my hips, my

         waist, above and below my breasts, and another at my neck.

         Believe me, this girl was not going anywhere!



              But there was one set of rings left and those were just

         above my eye level.  Monique had a cute way of keeping my

         head from moving.  She had a piece of leather about an inch

         wide with a ring riveted into each end.  She tied one end's

         ring to the metal ring in the wall.  Then she turned my head

         so that the side was resting against the wall.  The leather

         strip passed over my head, the lower edge just covering the

         top part of my vision.  The other end was tied to the ring on

         the other side by a small piece of rope.  It was tight but

         not uncomfortable, and it prevented me from turning my head.

         I would be standing there and looking out into the bedroom

         until Monique decided otherwise.  And I didn't like the look

         in her eyes.  She kissed me, teased my breasts a bit then

         announced that she was going to take a shower to get ready

         for her date that night.  Then she disappeared in the

          direction of the bathroom.



              I sighed and began to explore the limits of my bondage.

         Monique tended to take long showers and I figured I was going

         to be standing in this closet at least until she was ready to

         walk out the door for her date.  I tried to turn my head but

         my first suspicion was right, the strap held my head against

         the wall.  I wiggled and pulled against the ropes but Monique

         was entirely too good with the knots and cords.  I couldn't

         work at my wrists because of my arms being pressed against

         the wall. I couldn't even try to work my legs back and forth

         to loosen the ropes above my knees.  In short, I was stuck,

         plaster against the wall and one helpless girl.



              For a long time, during which my horniness increased

         (I just love ropes holding my body helpless), I just stood

         there and experienced frustration.  And there was nothing I

         could do about it.  There was certainly no way my fingers

         could be brought around to the front where they could do

         something about his sexual itch.  And my breasts were out of

         my touch.  I could just see the nipples out of the bottom of

         my vision, standing erect and rigid, betraying the inner

         excitement.



              Eventually Monique came back into my view, freshly wet

         and naked.  She took her time drying off her body right were

         in front of me, pretending she didn't even know I was there,

         displaying its fine curves and fun places.  I'd done the same

         thing to her more than once but that didn't make it any less

         frustrating right then.



              Then she did something that left a cold spot in the pit

         of my stomach.  She straightened the bed.  Then she placed

         two candles on the headboard.  She picked up the towel and

         any other loose things so the room was clean and neat.  Then

         she placed a length of clothesline on the headboard.  She

         slide the closet door closed on me.  But not quite.  She left

         a little crack open, a crack just where my head was, a crack

         that allowed me to see most of the bed.  And a crack that was

         small enough so that no one could really see me in the

         closet, especially if the only light was from two small

         candles.  Her hand reached in and squeezed my right breast

         affectionately.  Then she was gone.



              I sighed.  Her diabolical plan was clear.  Take one

         heavy date with the ever-horny Ted, add a romantic candle lit

         bedroom and a gorgeous dish like Monique who's also pretty

         much always horny herself.  Then add another roommate who's

         completely naked and bound in the closet so thoroughly that

         she can't move or make a sound.  She can only stand and watch

         the show.



              It was about two hours before I heard the sound of the

         front door.  There was voices and laughing.  Then there was a

         silence that I was sure marked a long, passionate kiss and

         the beginning of foreplay.  Sure enough, there came Monique

         to light the candles and turn on the stereo to very soft

         music.  She was followed quickly by Ted who began unziping

         her dress.  True to the harlot's code, she wore no bra or

         panties, enabling Ted to get right down to business.  Soon

         his clothes were flying off and they jumped into bed,

         laughing and giggling like school kids.



              Ted could hardly miss the rope laying in plain sight on

         the headboard.  He inquired about.  She lied about it.  He

         picked it up.  She hinted that some men are man enough to

         keep their girls bound up like little slavegirls.  He lunged

         at her.  She dodged but not too far.  They wrestled on the

         bed, naked bodies and rope bouncing all over the place.

         Monique's hands got tied behind her back.  She protested with

         a giggle.  He grabbed a breast and ignored her mild protests.

         He slid that huge male rod inside her.  Her protests turned

         to moans.  I was dying.



              Can you imagine the frustration I felt?  Here I was,

         already horny from two hours of being tightly bound, unable

         to even touch myself, and forced -- yes, forced -- to watch

         a couple do the sex act!  And several times!  In several

         different, highly imaginative positions, one of which I would

         have sworn was impossible for a girl with her hands tied

         behind her back.  As Monique's excitement rose to a fever

         pitch, so did mine.  The difference was she had a hung male

         to ram it to her, I had tight ropes and nothing inside my

         hot, juicy pussy.  I swore by the Great Horny Toad that I

         would get that girl and torture her!  I would find ant hills

         to tie her to, I would find four horse to draw and quarter

         her, I would hang her by her thumbs until she screamed for

         mercy!  And then I would get mean.



              Needless to say, I strained, pulled and jerked at my

         bonds but they held.  Tiny, pitiful moans escaped my nose to

         harmonize with the loud gasps and moans of ecstasy Monique

         was filling the bedroom with.  Then, in perfect coordination

         with her third orgasm, I hit on it!  It was simple and I'm

         sure Monique hadn't thought of it.  And it worked.  I dug my

         fingernails into my ass, both hands, as hard as I could.

         Then I exploded into fireworks and skyrockets.



              Later, hanging limp in my dark little prison, I came

         back to life.  My ass was sore but, gawd, I felt good.

         Monique and her boyfriend lay exhausted on the bed, her hands

         still tied.  For a long time we all rested.  But finally I

         saw his hand creep over to cup her breast and knew that the

         recuperative powers of the young had worked their miracle.

         Monique leaned over and kissed him.  Then she told him

         sweetly that there was more rope in the drawer and that

         perhaps he would like to tie her legs spread ever sooooo wide

         to the legs of the bed.  As he dove for the rope, Monique

         turned in my direction and gave me a wink.  It was going to

         be a long night!







                                 The End

         The Experiment



         an excerpt from "Bondage Tales" by John Savage





              The weather was hot outside but inside the air

         conditioning blew cold air at me, making the sweat stick to

         my skin.  I made my way to Dr. Wayward's office and entered.

         He was waiting for me with his usual silly grin.  We got

         right down to the experiment without delay.



              I went through the inner door to the experiment lab.

         In there the temperature had been set to a more reasonable

         degree, neither hot nor cold.  I unbuttoned my light summer

         dress and peeled it off.  Dr. Wayward didn't seem surprised

         to see that was wearing no bra.  My panties and shoes went

         next, leaving me standing there, naked and smiling.



              Dr. Wayward put the harness on my body, being careful

         to place the wide leather strap squarely between my legs and

         buckling up the cross straps tightly around my body.  There

         were two rings sticking up at my shoulders but otherwise

         everything was buckled down nice and tight.  I made sure

         each strap fitted comfortably as the doctor went back to his

         cabinet.



              The good doctor came over carrying a piece of rope in

         his hands and I knew what to do.  I put my hands behind my

         back with the wrists together.  He wrapped the cotton

         clothesline around my wrists several times then ran some

         rope counter to those to cinch them down.  He tied the

         knots up and inside where I couldn't reach them with my

         fingers.  Then he fetched the leather sheath that fitted

         over my arms so that they were encased in leather from the

         fingertips to the armpits.  Two straps went over my

         shoulders and secured the sheath so there was no way it

         could slide down.  During the first experiment he had me

         struggled as hard as I could to make sure the sheath

         couldn't loosen or come down.  I remember jumping around the

         lab, wiggling my arms and twisting every which way to try

         and get my arms free.  But the leather sheath had been

         designed well and I was convinced that I could never get it

         off without outside help.



              After the sheath came the gag.  He used, as he always

         did, a piece of rubber that was wedge shaped and tasted

         vaguely of disinfectant.  After the wedge was firmly in my

         mouth he placed the strap around my head and buckled it

         behind me so that it held the wedge solidly in place.  My

         mouth was slightly open and my tongue pressed down.  I knew

         from previous tests that I could utter no word, and hardly

         any sound would even come out were I to try to scream.  The

         gag is followed by two plugs pushed into my ears that cut

         off all hearing.



              Dr. Wayward positioned me under the hoist and connected

         the two hooks to the rings on my shoulders.  Then he placed

         the padded blindfold around my head so that I couldn't see

         the slightest bit of light.  But it was comfortable.  Then I

         could feel him fitting the hood over my head.  It was also

         made of leather and covered the entire head very snugly.

         That was mainly because of the laces that ran down the back

         from almost the crown of my head to my neck allowed him to

         tighten it until it was molded to my features.  There was a

         wide, thick leather strap attached to the bottom of the hood

         and that was buckled down firmly around my neck.  I doubted

         that I could have gotten the hood off even if I had my hands

         free, which was certainly not the case.



              With my head completely encased save for my nose

         sticking out, and my arms locked in their leather prison, I

         heard the whine of an electrical hoist and felt myself

         rising into the air.  When my feet were off the floor he

         stopped the hoist and I swung there for a minute.  Then he

         returned and I felt the ropes going on my legs.



              The doctor always ties my legs exactly the same way.

         First there is the rope around my ankles.  When that is

         knotted down, there comes around some windings around my

         legs just above the knees.  He wraps the rope around my legs

         very carefully then ever so slowly passes the rope between my

         thighs and down and between my legs and back up until he has

         half a dozen wrapping as cinch ropes.  Then he ties the

         knots.



              At that point I'm pretty well tied up and not going

         anywhere.  But he's not finished with me.  I can't hear it

         but I know he's getting the large leather bag positioned

         under me.  Then I feel the leather being pulled up my legs.

         It goes up until it is over my hips.  Then it gets a little

         tighter and he has to work it up a bit at a time until the

         top of the bag is under my chin.  I call it a bag but it is

         more like a suit, custom made to fit my body.  There are

         laces running from half way between my ankles and knees up

         to my neck.  He starts at the bottom and works the laces

         upward, tightening each part as he goes and working the

         slack out completely.  By the time he ties the knots under

         my chin I am covered totally with another skin of leather.

         Even my arms, already covered in leather and securd by rope,

         are included under this suit.



              One might think that this would be enough.  But the

         doctor wants complete immobility and he gets it.  First

         there are straps that go around my ankles and buckle tight.

         Then around my knees and thighs and waist (pining my arms

         tightly against my body) and around my body just under my

         somewhat overgrown breasts.  But that's not all.  I feel

         myself move upward and know that the doctor is ready for the

         last part of the equipment.  When I'm about three feet off

         the floor he stops me.  For a minute there is no sound or

         feeling.  I know he's out there moving around and I can

         picture him getting the last piece of rope and kneeling down

         under my legs.  Then I feel some fumbling at my feet and a

         second later my feet are pulled down.



              The doctor has shown me pictures of myself completely

         done up in the experiment equipment.  There is a ring at the

         bottom of the body suit, right at my toes, and he has tied a

         rope to that ring.  There is another ring bolted to the

         floor right under me and he has tied the rope to that ring.

         He pulls it taunt enough to stretch my entire body out a bit

         but not to be painful.  The purpose of that rope is to keep

         me from moving.  Suspended in mid-air as I am, I can feel

         very little.  I have no floor under my feet, no bed under my

         body as I lay on it.  I am suspended by a harness

         arrangement that is very comfortable and there is the

         feeling of floating in air.  As time goes by it will grow

         until I completely loose all feeling of the ropes, straps

         and leather around my body.  Maybe the tightness of the

         equipment has something to do with that, I don't know.



              I feel his hands running over my body, checking the

         buckles and tightness everywhere, adjusting here or there a

         bit to assure that nothing is loose, least of all me.  Then

         he pats me on the bottom and I feel nothing.



              Dr. Wayward has told me that he usually waits a minute

         or two to make sure everything is properly set up then he

         leaves the lab.  He knows that it will take me several hours

         to reach a proper state and there is nothing he can do until

         then so he goes to his lunch or reads a book in his office.

         I, on the other hand, can read no book, eat nothing (unless

         you count hard rubber -- I don't), and am not going

         anywhere.



              What do I feel?  I feel very comfortable.  My whole

         body is warm and snugly wrapped in a leather cocoon.  I am

         at peace and feel very relaxed.  it is nice.  I don't have

         to think, do anything or say anything.  I wait patiently for

         ten minutes to pass (counting to make sure it's been that

         long).  Then I go into what I call the fun part.



              When the experiments first started, I used to try and

         relax all the time while in the equipment.  But the third

         time I got an itch in the nipple of my left breast and it

         began to drive me crazy.  I tried twisting my shoulders back

         and forth, hoping that the leather suit would rub the itch.

         No chance!  It was too tight.  Then I struggled, just a bit

         at first but growing into harder and more serious jerkings

         of my body and limbs, trying anyway I could to stop that

         maddening itch in my breast.  I guess some place along the

         line I lost the itch but I don't remember when because after

         a few minutes of struggling against such complete and

         hopeless restrictions, I became aware of a warmth generating

         from my sex and spreading outward.  It was a real good

         feeling, an excitement that is wonderful to feel.  I was

         getting sexually turned on!  And it was happening very fast

         and hard.  I soon forget about the itch as I continued my

         struggles in hopes that the wonderful glow in my pussy would

         blossom into full orgasm.  Well, it is boring in that

         equipment, after all.



              Since most of my weight was on a wide and thick strap

         that passed right between my legs, there was something

         pressing my sex.  With some violent attempts at struggles I

         was able to shift the pressure of that strap so that it felt

         soooo good on my pussy.  Before I knew it there were

         skyrockets exploding in my head and my pussy was on fire and

         I felt wonderful!



              That was the first time.  Every time since I waited

         until the doctor left and then I began to fight the ropes

         and straps holding me.  I even try to scream my head off, it

         helps make me feel more helpless.  It doesn't take too long

         before I'm arching my body within my bonds and trembling as

         orgasm after wonderful orgasm explodes within me.  I figure

         I get in three or four orgasm before I'm tired enough to

         just hang limp in the darkness.  Since the doctor's never

         said a thing about it, I'm sure he's gone to his lunch or

         whatever he does all the time I'm getting high on the most

         mind-blowing climaxes I've ever felt.  Hell, probably that

         any girl's ever felt.



             Each experiment lasts four or five hours.  Dr. Wayward

         has been talking about trying some longer experiments,

         perhaps eight hours at a time and I've told him that was

         fine with me.  When the time is up and he lets me down I

         tell him the results.



              Funny thing is that we've been trying to use this

         sensory depravation experiment to induce telepathic abilities

         for almost two years now and haven't had a single positive

         result!  But the doctor is sure it is the right method and I

         don't disagree with him.  After all, he's the doctor!





                               The End

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