Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Hypnotically Bound 3

by John Roper

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© Copyright 2003 - John Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; Hypnosis; con/nc; X


Hypnotically Bound - Part 3
by John Roper
Hypnotically Bound 3 by John Roper 
Susan's two-block walk to Moon's dry cleaning establishment gave her time to unwind, something she had not been able to do since meeting John. Her gait was slow and deliberately casual, as if what she was about to experience happened all the time- a subtle sign she did not take lightly, given the addictive nature of her premier adventure into the fun world of hypnotic bondage and discipline.

The closer Susan got to Moon's Dry Cleaners, the hornier she got, knowing full well that she had agreed to a photo session that would last an hour, and that she would allow herself to be bound, chained, whatever, by a man with whom she hadn't shared more than four minutes at a time of get-acquainted conversation.

It was a Sunday night; the streets were deserted, making the click of Susan's sky-high heels echo eerily against the sealed up store fronts that lined the main drag of her suburban neighborhood. Moon had left the front door to his establishment unlocked, and a candle burning on the floor in front of it. When the door closed behind his new subject's uneasiness, a cool breeze blew out the candle. 

As per her first, hands-on binder's instructions, Susan walked straight through the flip-up counter opening and into the narrow, center aisle of thin-plastic-covered garments, on hangers, that lined either side. A night light over a floor door leading to the basement staircase beckoned ahead. She descended slowly, while the juices percolating feverishly between her legs made it clear Susan’s libido was more than just ready to enjoy whatever her new playmate had in mind.

When she reached the bottom step, the sound of the door closing and latching above sent an uncommon tingle down her spine. While Thai Moon’s latest experiment’s eyes adjusted to the brightly lit surroundings, she thought, 'Pull yourself together, girl. This is no time to be losing it.' 
The cinder block walls and cement floor of the basement were painted a dark gray, sharply contrasting the naked, wood beams above, which held an assortment of hooks, pulleys, rings and such, giving Susan reason to believe she'd discovered a place that would probably be an integral part of her newfound lifestyle for many a day. 

A four-inch in diameter, metal support pipe stood in the center of the triangular shaped cellar. It, too, was painted a shiny gray, and sported four, stainless steel rings, which dangled from the corners of the square plate that secured it to the ceiling.
"Good evening," greeted Master Moon through the playroom's three, corner speakers. "Shall we begin?"
Susan realized immediately she was being watched. "...What did you have in mind?"
"Place your purse on the floor in front of you."
While she did, Susan recalled the first time she'd ever laid eyes on her kinky host and wondered how long he'd been setting her up for this particular occasion. "Remember," she reminded him, "we only have an hour to play with."
Moon reminded her, "...from the time I finish binding you and start rolling tape."
Susan's flashback of John and Joan tied up on her bed brought on a facial twitch, and an equally sudden need to touch herself. 
'This is wild.'

"Take off the dress," directed Thai Moon from his control room. Monitors to Susan’s right and left screened two different angles of the event. "...Now stand with your back to the pole, reach behind it with both arms and grab your left wrist with your right hand."
As Susan did as the lights dimmed a bit to add an air of dramatic effect to the video.
"Wristwatch," trigger worded Joan's on-tape voice before Moon switched off the intercom amplifier, exited the control room, and stepped out into the scene.
Susan's eyes widened when his presence made itself known. He was fully dressed in skin-tight, black leather pants, white T-shirt, and black boots and belt. 

"Open your mouth." Moon stuffed it with a sponge and blue ball gag, which he strapped on in back. "Lower your head." The move allowed him to tighten the buckle one more notch as he spoke. "You are a beauty, my pet- a rare find, the kind of damsel that comes along only once or twice in a lifetime." Moon then turned, picked up Susan's purse off the floor, and left the cellar, and his newfound playmate to her perplexed concerns. "...Be back later."
'Later? But I thought...' Susan could hear his ascent back up to ground level, his walk across the hardwood floor above, and the lock being set in the front door of the triangular-shaped premises on the V-shaped corner of Packard and Franklin Avenues. 
Her immediate instinct was to let go of her wrist and relax until he returned. But when she tried to loosen her grip, not one finger would obey the simple command. Hard as Susan tried, she could not convince them to relent. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
There was nothing wrong with Susan, other than the fact that she'd allowed Joan to hypnotize and program her into hypnotic submission on the first night the two confessed their kinky propensities to each other. 'My God,' pondered Susan, 'what have I done?'

Meanwhile, back at her apartment, Joan was doing her best to wake up John, trying desperately to free herself from the self-bind she'd so expertly gotten herself into. But the more she struggled, the more she realized how good a job she'd done. The more she realized it, the hornier she got, as the hogtie/crotch rope continued to make matters more and more impossible, breaking her concentration as the red line of her passion had its way with Joan's overheating drenched spot. Most of her effort was centered on removing the gag, for if she could, a simple trigger word would waken John, who would, she hoped, use his teeth to undo the key knots at hand.

SEVEN MINUTES LATER

The sound of Moon's voice inspired the making of two fists before Joan stilled her struggling efforts. 
"I can only imagine what the three of you have been up to since 'Adios'." His star pupil lowered her forehead to the mattress and closed her eyes. It was obviously time for a lecture, and for the master to exert his formidable control over the situation. "Susan isn't at all the submissive wimp you thought she was, and a hell of a lot more assertive. Wouldn't it have been wiser to follow my lead and take more notes before inviting her to participate in what has now become a stickier situation than her experience should have been asked to handle?" 
A nod from Joan preceded an uncomfortable, sink-in pause... 

"How about I untie John for now, and think on how best to punctuate this lesson." Joan looked up at her mentor pleadingly, but he untied John anyway and left his trainee to ponder the possibilities, but not before the phone/answering machine was placed well out of reach, and the volume turned up to maximum. "Later," said Thai Moon as he walked out of the room and closed the door.

SEVEN MINUTES LATER

"Adios," trigger-worded Thai Moon from his console in a rear room on the ground floor of his store. Susan let go of her wrist and immediately walked to the collection of rope hanging from hooks on the wall to her right. Using the swivel stool Moon had provided, she proceeded, once again, to hogtie herself. While she did, her current master videotaped the scene with mischievous delight.

TEN MINUTES LATER

When Joan heard the phone ring, she snapped to attention and waited on the fate her trainer had chosen to impose on her lack of patience "...I trust all is as it should be," taunted Thai before setting things in motion once again. Joan then heard the recorded sound of her own voice turn the key to John's future with "Adios."

Meanwhile, back in the cellar, Susan was released from her hypnotic suggestion when the bind into which she'd placed herself was complete and her eyes had been closed for three seconds. She was still ball gagged, with sponge stuffing, and several turns of elastic bandage added. Her first, intuitive focus was on the huge clock on the wall in front of her. Moon had reset it ahead three hours, to give Susan something to think about as she launched herself into a frenzied escape attempt on the cold, gray surface of her newly discovered, basement playroom. 
"MUHMUHMMMUHUH!" 

The crotch rope dug into her pussy. The half-inch thick ropes hugged and contained her arms and upper body, as all hell broke loose within the private confines of Susan's outraged, sensual and psychological awareness. She tried desperately to lose the gag, without success, writhing frantically and screaming at the top of her lungs to convey what she thought to be an emergency press release to Moon, who leaned back in his control room chair, reached down with his left hand, grabbed his formidable erection, and commenced to thoroughly enjoy the fruits of his training in the fine art of hypnotic submission.

Susan's escape efforts were formidable. So were her multiples.

John, of course, wasted no time taking advantage of his situation either, opting not to remove Joan's gag, knowing full well that if he did, he would also be running the risk of being victimized by another of her trigger words. 
'Perhaps later,' he semi-decided from within his switchable, sexual nature as he dried himself off in the bathroom, after having taken a leisurely shower.

Joan was now naked, on her back, in bed, her legs spread wide and tethered to its lower corners, her wrists crossed, lashed together, and tethered to its head. When John appeared and stood before her, in nothing but a towel, she got right down to the task at hand, struggling wildly to take semi-control of the situation, hoping to induce an orgasm on his end of things as quickly as possible, so as to move on to the next unbeknownst episode of sexual domination as soon as possible. The lump under John's towel grew in concert with Joan’s sensually deliberate struggling, raising the level of their self-control to a place it had never been before. 
John removed the towel slowly, spread his legs, crossed his arms, and spoke his mind. "My guess is you didn't expect things to work out the way they did tonight." He took his erection in hand and moved onto the bed, straddling Joan's lower torso and reaching back with his other hand to tease and play with her now, very wet and willing, shaved pussy. "Where's Susan?" 
Joan's eyes went wide before she shook her head as if to say, 'I don't know.'

"I see," spoke John in a tone so soft it could barely be heard. "Then I guess we will just have to wait here until she gets back." With that, he stopped playing with his captive's overheated distress, and lay down next to her. The feel of his hardness- rubbing up against Joan's upper leg pushed all sorts of buttons in her overtaxed, but under fulfilled anticipation.  "Did you think I tied you like this to take advantage of your apparently wanton expectations?"
Joan was at a loss for body language, other than the constant writhing she'd generated since John reentered the room.
The phone rang... "Pick up," said Thai Moon from his control room. "This is important."
Something told John to do just that, even though he and Moon had never met or spoken to each other before. "Who is this?"
"That's not important. What is important is that Joan's boyfriend will be there in about 30 minutes, and you must be on the corner of Packard and Franklin in exactly 45 minutes, but only if you were hoping to get a handle on Susan's newfound predispositions."
John looked down at Joan and squeezed his erection for a bit. "And if I choose not to?"
Moon terminated the connection and smiled as he punched on the intercom. "Remember our agreement, Susan? I will have you for an hour after I bind you and start rolling tape. Since your current predicament was self-imposed, that hour has yet to begin."

The new spin of unexpected dilemma propelled Susan into a crazed state of mindless writhing. Within seconds, she reached the end of her erotic fuse as another string of unprecedented spasms took control of her short-circuiting sensibilities. The multiple continued for as long as it took to turn Susan into the quivering, out-of-control damsel she'd always wanted and needed to be.

FORTY MINUTES LATER

Joan was still gagged and bound to Susan's bed when her boyfriend arrived. John briefed him somewhat before leaving the kinky couple to their appointment with justice. He'd blindfolded Joan, after having driven her nuts with intermittent petting, fondling, kissing, and anything else it took to keep her primed and ready for her unexpected second man's arrival. The sight of her, and the fact that she didn't know a switch had taken place, caused all sorts of pleasurable nuances to erupt from within Bob's happily surprised, psychosexual awareness. He spoke not a word, as he stood, naked, before his favorite damsel, pondering the endless possibilities at hand and deciding whether or not to remove the gag.

When John drove up to the corner of Packard and Franklin, Thai Moon opened the door to his store and said to Susan, "Walk to the car." Its passenger door swung open when John saw his new damsel heading his way. She wore a red, crushed velvet, knee-length cape, and shiny-red, skyscraper heels. The hood of the cape was draped over the top of her face. Red lipstick was all John could see of his damsel's features. Moon accompanied her to the car. She stepped in and sat, guided and supported by his strong right arm. The door was slammed, a smile crossed his face, and he was gone and back into the store. The lipstick had been drawn on Susan's skin-colored gag wrap.

"Well now," noticed John, "what have we here?" 
Except for the heels, his date was naked, her elbows and wrists bound together behind her, with a crotch rope from wrist cinch to waist rope in front. Susan's purse was in her hands, her current situation in John's. 
"My place or yours?" he quipped as he strapped her in with seat belt.

Meanwhile, back at hers, Bob was taking full advantage of his bound damsel. The gag had been removed, but not the blindfold, a risk Bob was more than willing to take, given the choices at hand, and the obvious abandon with which Joan was enjoying her long-overdue gratification.

The phone rang...
The End?
John Roper
 
 
 

29.05.03

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