Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Alysons Story 4

by Fetterer

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© Copyright 2003 - Fetterer - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; F/f; bondage; cons; XX

Alysons Story by Fetterer
Chapter 11

Alyson and Hazel maintained their existence.  Alyson was always submissive to Hazel, but occasionally, Hazel wore some of the bondage devices like the heavy chains.  She was so partial to the iron helmet that she frequently wore that alone when they watched their videos, and she infrequently wore the pear gag.  Also, both women rode the horses with the dildoes in their cunts; Alyson occasionally also used the ass dildo too, but Hazel hadn't tried that yet.

One evening, while they were both on their horses, with their cunts stuffed, after they had watched another German pain video with lots of needlework, Hazel said, "I was reading one of those books in the private library."

"Which one?" Alyson asked.

"The one about sexual tortures."

"Hmmmm, and what did you learn?" said Alyson.

"Well, for one thing, it's not unusual for the dominant to sometimes be submissive.  That is, there are the professional pain masters and mistresses, but people like us who do it for enjoyment, well, sometimes they switch roles."

There was silence, "Hazel, do you want me to dominate you?"

Hazel looked at her friend, smiled brightly, "I think so.  Maybe we can explore that this weekend?"

"Hazel," began Alyson, "of course I will.  You've been so very good to me, I really couldn't deny you anything.  But why?"

Taking a deep breath, Hazel began to expel it as she said, "It's just that I see you getting such obvious pleasure that I want to see if I can too.  Oh, I know the pain might put me off, but I know you'd let me go whenever I might have to ask."

"You bet I'd let you go.  You're sure it's only curiosity?"

Hazel grinned, "Well, you certainly do look like you're having fun, and if you can generate that much enthusiasm, I'd like to see what I can do."

Alyson smiled and nodded, and then Hazel continued, "I also found some other things in that book that you haven't told me about."

"What are they?  Maybe I don't yet know them."

"Well," said Hazel, "one is a variation on these horses."

"Explain," requested Alyson.

"Instead of the part we straddle being the wide, padded thing these have, it is a simple two by four.  The arms are tied behind the back and then the wrists are hoisted so that upper body goes forward.  That makes the weight rest a little on the clit.  And then to add to the enjoyment, ropes are tied on the ankles and the feet are pulled back and up so your whole weight is on your cunt, most especially your clit.  An option is nipple clamps tied to the two by four.  Another option is let the feet hang free, but to hang significant weights from the ankles.  What do you think of that? Did you ever hear of it?"

 "Yup," and then Alyson proceeded to tell Hazel about her self-bondage and the computer. "Do you want to try it?" Alyson asked.

Hazel chuckled, "Hmmmm, I'm not surprised that you know it; but, no, I'd like to see you do it first.  That's if you're interested."

"Hazel, are you conning me?" Alyson demanded.

All sweetness and innocence, Hazel replied, "Moi?"

Alyson giggled, "It's pretty tough, but I'll do it."

"Oh, good," said Hazel, "that's what I thought you'd say.  C'mon, let's get off these tame horses and go downstairs.  Everything is all set," concluded Hazel as she lifted herself off the dildo in her cunt to the sound of the familiar pop. Alyson's pop occurred at the same time and the two nude women descended to the dungeon.  Sure enough, in the middle of the room, was a two by four mounted on extra high saw horses.  Beside the apparatus was a small step ladder.  Mounting the ladder, Alyson said, "You just happened to have this ready?"

"No, I planned it.  I had Alex help me.  He knew all about it, and he even found some of the parts the previous owner had."

By now, Alyson was holding on to the two by four, and was swinging her right leg over and planting her right foot on a small stool on the other side.  She stood upright, straddling the plank.  Her cunt was about two inches above the plank, and she asked, "Now what?"

"I think the next thing is for me to bind your wrists together behind your back."  Alyson obligingly clasped her hands behind her back while Hazel pulled up another small ladder.  Very quickly, Alyson's wrists were secured with several wraps of a soft rope. Hazel then climbed higher on her ladder and threaded the rope through a pulley that Alex had put there. Climbing back down her ladder, Hazel then proceeded to tie ropes to each of Alyson's ankles, and each of these, she ran through pulleys above and behind Alyson.  Then Hazel said, "I think we're all set. Want to try to squat down so that your cunt straddles the plank?"

Alyson began to do just that.  It took only a slight squat for her skin to make contact.  She dropped too quickly, and was unready for the sensation, so she rose up again, but then began to lower herself a second time, more slowly.  This time, when her skin made contact, she shifted a little, and finally, satisfied, she lowered herself until her weight was on the board.

"How's it feel?" Hazel inquired.

"I'm not sure I can do this," replied a panting Alyson.  "Let me try again. Ahhhh. Ouch. Damn, damn. It's going to be rough," Alyson replied, "but let's get on with it."

Hazel knelt, and while slightly lifting Alyson's left foot, removed the stepladder on which she was standing, and then she lowered Alyson's foot.

"Don't put that ladder too far away," said Alyson.

"Too much?" Hazel asked solicitously.

"Not quite, but I may be surprised.  Go on.  Do my other foot."

So Hazel did the same with Alyson's right foot, and then Alyson was resting her whole weight on her crotch.

"Hazel, this is a really tough stunt, but I'm pretty sure I can handle it.  Go on and do me the rest of the way."

So Hazel pulled down on the rope that was over the pulley, raising Alyson's wrists behind her and pitching her body forward.  When she was well forward, and Hazel reckoned Alyson's clit was in contact with the two by four, she tied off the wrist suspension rope. Then, grasping the ropes for both ankles, she pulled and Alyson's ankles went back and up.

Alyson grunted, and said, "Hazel! stop a moment!  This is really tough."

"Too much?  Want me to put the stools under your feet?"

An obviously straining Alyson replied, "No, just let me catch my breath.  Okay, finish the job!"

So Hazel pulled the feet back and tied the ropes.  She then increased the tension on the wrist rope, and stepped back.  What she saw was incredible.  Her friend had an expression of ferocious concentration and she was actually perspiring.  Her breaths were coming in short gasps. After listening to Alyson's ragged breathing, Hazel said, "Can you hack it?"

Alyson turned her head ever so slightly, and even managed a wan smile, as she replied, "This is the worst I've ever experienced, but I want to stay here a while.  My clit has never had an experience quite like this, and it's learning how to deal with it."

Hazel giggled, and then asked, "How long?"

"How long did they recommend in that book?" Alyson shot back.

Hazel replied, "Well, they don't really say.  They say someone experienced with it can last a couple hours, and the record is nine hours."

"Oh my god," Alyson exclaimed.  "Nine hours like this?  No thank you.  Leave me on it for a half hour, and then let's discuss it. But please don't go far away  and please don't put any chains on yourself.  If this gets to be too much, I want to get off quickly."

At the end of the half hour, Alyson said she wanted an additional fifteen minutes, and she asked Hazel to increase the tension on her arms. Hazel did so, and then merely moved back out of sight.  She watched her friend's body cope with the traction.  She heard her moan and groan, but she heard no request for mercy.  Finally, when the fifteen minutes were up, Hazel released her friend.  She had to help her down, and then help her to a couch.  Very gently, she placed Alyson on the couch, and then she applied warm towels to Alyson's crotch.  And then she kissed her friend's cunt.  Nothing was said for a few moments, and then Hazel squatted down and proceeded to lick and suck her friend to orgasm.

Later, up in bed, smoking cigarettes, Alyson explained the sensation.  "Quite literally, you feel as if you sitting on a white hot crowbar.  I wasn't sure I could actually deal with it.  The first several minutes, I knew I couldn't and I was on the verge of asking you to get me off several times."

"Want me to get rid of it?"

"Not at all.  After I'd been sitting there a while, it occurred to me that it wasn't getting worse.  I was learning how to deal with it.  It hurt like hell but I had done it.  It was then I began to relax a bit, tentatively, but more so.  It is hellish but I do want to do it again," she said, adding, "after my cunt cools off.  And thanks for the kissing.  That made it better very quickly," she added, grinning.

It happened that Hazel had to go back to the States for a managers' meeting, so Alyson was left in charge.  Before she left, Hazel made Alyson promise her self bondage would be done with safety.  "I know it's too much to ask that you not use bondage or whatever while I'm gone.  But just remember it's more fun with me around, and you have to be alive to do that."

Alyson used fetters and shackles the first couple days that Hazel was gone.  She rode the leather padded horse, with just one dildo, to watch the pain videos.  She also stayed late at work, and got completely caught up in every area.  She realized that if she stayed in the big house, without Hazel, she'd try progressively more strenuous bondage; and she deeply appreciated what Hazel had said.  Hazel was due back in two days, so Alyson decided to take a little trip.  She would take the train to Munich, and go to the opera.

She called Hazel to let her know that she too would be away for a couple days, and Hazel agreed that would be a good idea.  She packed a small bag, and off she went.  The train ride lasted all nite but she'd had a sleeper and she awakened refreshed.  She planned on going to a museum, then she would rest before dinner and the opera; afterwards, she'd go right to the train for the tip back to Romania. Before she left the train, she had changed into motorcycle-like leather jacket, levi’s and harness boots.  To save space, she smiled to herself, she hadn't packed any underclothes, so that she now was nude under her clothes.

The museum she chose was near her hotel and, after dropping off her valise, she strolled the couple of squares to it.  The attendant at the door (an older woman) raised an eyebrow as Alyson walked in, but merely nodded a greeting, and collected the modest fee.  Alyson picked up the proffered guidebook and began to enter the exhibit area. After an hour of wandering aimlessly, Alyson came upon a sign indicating The Inquisition exhibit was down a set of stone stairs. With renewed interest, Alyson made her way down the stairs.  At the foot of the stairs, in a glass case, was a thumbscrew.  It was old and somewhat rusted.  It was a very simple instrument: a U-shaped piece of metal with a screw like key just back from the open edges. By turning the screw, the two ends came together and pinched anything between them.  Alyson felt herself become wet.

After several minutes, she moved on.  A few feet away was a low bench and on the floor in front of it was an iron, boot-like device.  Nearby on the floor were a mallet and a couple wedges. This was the infamous iron boot: the patient's foot was put in the boot and the wedges were used to shatter the leg.  Alyson looked around and listened, but she could neither hear nor see anyone; so she quickly seated herself on the bench, and then pulled off one of her boots and the sock.  Gingerly, she slid her bare foot into the iron boot, and she felt a shiver as she thought of those whose feet had been forced into the device.  What must it have been like, she wondered.

After a few moments, she removed her foot and put her sock and boot back on.  Rising, she moved along.  She came upon a rack, very much like the one she had been on.  The manacles were very old and she doubted they were small enough to clasp her wrists.  The next device was an Iron Maiden.  It stood with its two doors slightly ajar, revealing the many spikes that would penetrate the front and back of anybody forced inside.  This was a very sobering device. Near a brazier, she found a metal chair.  Here, the patient was strapped into the chair and a fire kindled under the seat.  Alyson was tickled by the similarity of that name with the more modern electric chair.

On a bench near the chair was hideous metal helmet.  She read the description:
               HOT HEAD: This item could be heated
               and put on the patient's head.
               Depending on the heat level, the
               head could be made uncomfortable, it
               could be burned or the skin could be
               fried off the skull.  Another use of
               this device was to pour hot liquids
               into the ears after attaching small,
               funnel like devices.  Finally, the
               helmet could be used just as is,
               being secured to the person, who
               rapidly tired because of the weight.

Alyson attempted to pick up the helmet and found it weighed at least thirty pounds.

Moving around the exhibit, she found the strappado, the individual's hands were tied behind their back and then they were hoisted up.  This would be quite painful, but then the patient would be dropped, causing severe pain.  The further the drop, the more the pain.  For very serious situations, weights might be attached to the feet.  Shoulder dislocation was likely after more than very short drops.  Alyson stared intently at this item, marvelling at its simplicity but conveying much pain all the same.

A device she had never heard of was next.  It resembled a glove. The hand was placed in the glove and then little guillotine like blades could be driven down at the joints to amputate parts of the fingers.  She slid her hand into the device, but found it to be too big.  As she made to withdraw her hand, a voice startled her.

"There was a smaller size for the feminine hand," it said.

Alyson, startled, turned to see who spoke.  It was the old woman attendant.

"Are you interested in these things?" the attendant asked.

Nodding, Alyson replied, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.  You say this device came in a smaller size?"

"Yes, of course.  Did you want to see it?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," Alyson replied.

"Not at all," the old woman replied, "come this way."

Alyson was led to a door, passing two cells with barred doors as she followed.  The attendant used a key to open the door, and then proceeded through the door, holding it for Alyson.  They walked to a table and there was the smaller gauntlet.

Alyson looked at it, and then said, "May I?"

The old woman nodded, and Alyson fitted her hand into the snugger, feminine version of the other device.  It was snug, but the very many little knives were all in place at each joint.

"Why are you interested in these things, fraulein?" the old woman asked.  "Are you simply curious, or do you use them?"

Alyson smiled, and then said, "I use them.  Rather, they are used on me."

"Ah, you are a masochist then?"

Nodding, Alyson said, "Yes, I am."   And then, after a pause, she added, "You have a very impressive collection, but most of them seem not to permit repeat usage."

The old woman chuckled, "Yes, that's true.  Other than the rack, the strappado and some of the other things, most are one-way trips. Of course, if you were interested in giving up the tip of a finger, we could use this to cut it off, or we could crush it in the thumbscrew."

Maintaining eye contact, Alyson, making a show of leaving her hand in the gauntlet, said, "We could, couldn't we?  But that might interfere with my ticket to the opera tonite."

The old woman grunted.  She hadn't expected Alyson to be so steady. Curiosity seekers always seemed to snatch their hands away when she suggested the donation of the tip of a finger, but not this one. Perhaps she truly was a masochist.

Finally, Alyson withdrew her hand, and asked, "Was there more to the exhibit that I missed?"

"Oh yes," the old woman replied.  "I don't think you saw the flailing table or knives, or the Bull."

"I know the flailing idea, skinning the body, but I'm not familiar with the Bull.  Tell me about it."

"Better I show you."  The old woman led Alyson back into the chamber.  They again passed the cells, and then the flailing table. The next item was a large metal item that looked like a bull.  The old woman began to describe it: "The patient sits inside the belly on a wooden stool with his or her head up through the hole in the back.  The patient is either secured inside or left loose.  The vessel is then partly filled with water and a fire is lighted.  As the heat begins to build, a metal dome is placed over the patients head.  As the patient begins to cook, they begin to screech and cry out, and the dome makes it sound like the bellowing of a bull."

"Very impressive," said Alyson, "I'd never heard of any such device.  But another one way trip." she added.

Shaking her head, the old woman said, "Not always.  The wooden stool prevented direct heat transfer to the person.  With the person secured, they could be prevented from touching the metal. Then, after a mild par-boiling, roughly similar to a serious sun burn, the patient could be removed.  In the old days, care was fairly primitive, but today you would be able to survive with appropriate pain."

Startled, Alyson echoed, "Survive?  Appropriate pain? What do you mean?"

"Well," beamed the old woman triumphantly, "you did claim to be a masochist, didn't you?  Isn't pain interesting to you?"

Relaxing slightly, Alyson smiled, "Oh, yes.  Well, yes, pain is indeed interesting to me.  Are you offering to cook me?"

"Not at all.  I am like you.  I was once cooked in that very device.  It was very painful, but, as you can see, I survived.  No, you will need someone else to do you.  Now, come along.  There's still much to see." The old woman moved off but Alyson continued to stare at the Bull. The old woman turned after several steps, saw Alyson still starring, and returned.  "Would you like to sit in it?" the old woman asked.

Lost in thought, Alyson replied, "Hmmmm?"  And then, coming our to it, added, "Yes, very much.  If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"No trouble at all," the old woman replied.  She moved to the Bull and pulled a step stool nearby.  She clumb up and, with some difficulty, lifted the dome like hood and then came back down. Sizing up Alyson, she said, "You're slender enough to slip in the hole.  Just climb up and get in.  The stool is inside."

So Alyson put her booted foot on the stool and hauled herself up onto the Bull's back.  Then, carefully, she slid her feet downward into the hole.  It took a little squeezing but soon she was in, sitting on the stool with just her head protruding through the hole. The old woman then stood on the stool and lowered the dome over Alyson's head.  She left Alyson there for at least ten minutes before lifting the dome.  Alyson quickly exited.

"That could indeed be interesting," Alyson said.

Alyson was next shown a whipping post, and the old woman encouraged her to embrace it.  There was a chopping block where patients were beheaded.  There was another chair where the patient could be held rigidly for branding, or blinding, or -- in the case of women -- amputation of the tits.

At last, they came to the end of the exhibit.

"Is that all there is?" Alyson asked.

"Oh, no.  By no means is this the end.  You've seen the torture devices of the inquisition.  Let me show you our Chinese room. It's smaller but more ingenious."

Several steps further along, they came to it.

The first engine was the water torture ladder.  The old woman explained: "The patient was tied to the ladder, and then his or her head was lowered slightly.  A block was inserted in the mouth which forced the jaws open, but allowed a wide, open space.  A strip of wet linen was inserted in the open space, and allowed to just come to back of the mouth.  Then, water was dripped into the open space. The weight of the water made the linen piece heavier and it came in contact with the back of the throat causing the patient to strangle.  At just the right moment, the linen was lifted, the patient caught his or her breath, and then the process was begun all over again.  Even for a masochist, this is no fun."

"You tried it?" Alyson asked.

The old woman nodded, and added, "Many times.  I am told if you can deep throat a cock, your chances are better at being able to survive this.  I'm not so sure.  I thought I had become a pretty good fellatrice, but I never mastered this one."

Alyson had a bemused expression on her face as the old woman had candidly explained the device and it's cure.

Next, she showed Alyson the table where the thousand cuts was done. The patient was secured, and then very sharp knives were used to make tiny cuts all over the body.  The executioner's art was to time the loss of blood with the thousandth cut. "Of course," the old woman said, "you can stop well short of a thousand.  I did."

"The Chinese had a variation on the bastinado.  Here the feet of the patient were secured, and then they were slapped repeatedly with light, cracked bamboo sticks.  Now that is very painful indeed, but you live."

The final device in this small area were the bamboo shoots that would be shoved under finger nails and toe nails.  "These are exquisite," the old woman said.

"There is one more exhibit that might interest you," the old woman said, as she again led the way.

"Famous Executions," was what the sign said.

Around the wall were scenes depicting Socrates and the hemlock, the 1,000 cuts of Su Chin, the crucifixion of a Roman slave, the living entombment of the slaves of Egypt who worked on the royal burial chambers, explosion where a person's mouth was filled with gunpowder and lighted off, impalement of the barbarians, drawing and quartering of old England, guillotine of France, hanging, firing squad, the garrotte, the electric chair, and the gas chamber.

"Wow," said Alyson, somewhat breathlessly, "that's heavy.  It's a pity they all ended in death."

The old woman smiled, "They don't always have to end in death, you know.  Oh, some are terminal, especially the gunpowder in the mouth; and drawing and quartering and the guillotine are definitely terminal, but the rest can be endured.  I've tried them all."

Alyson starred at this woman in unabashed admiration.  "You are a wonder.  I've done some of those things.  Crucifixion, being racked, impalement, but other's I've never even thought of."

Chapter 12

The day Hazel returned, Alyson ended up on the new horse.  Between gasps, she told Hazel all about her visit to the museum in Munich and her invitation to Helga Sturm to visit.

"Why would you invite that person to visit us here?" Hazel demanded.

"Because, dearest," Alyson began, "I found in her the same sensitive sort of person you are, and one who has had done to her some of the things I'd like to experience."

Hazel laughed, and the suffering Alyson was relieved.

"Okay, okay," Hazel said.  "And when does she get here?"

"I'm not sure.  She said she'd call."

"Ah," said a mischievous Hazel, "then she's not likely to get here in the next three hours"

Tumbling to the intent of the question, the seriously hurting Alyson said, "Aw, shit, Hazel, you're not going to keep me here for three hours?"

"What?  Insurrection?  Yes, you'll have three hours, and maybe more now.  Enjoy."

"Hazel!  You agreed you'd never leave me here alone while I was on this thing."

"You're right.  Okay.  I'll sit here and watch.  How will that be?"

Not entirely mollified, Alyson replied, "Well, that would be better than being alone.  But are you just going to sit?"

Smiling, Hazel asked, "And what might you have in mind?"

"Why not come over here and sit on my horse with me?"

The thought was electrifying.  Alyson, of course, was well done up. Her hands were tied behind her and lifted high, pitching her body forward.  Her feet were well off the floor so that her entire weight was on her clit.  The nipple clips were in place. For a few moments, there was silence, and then, in a very low voice, Hazel replied, "Is there room?  I mean you're all bent over and that?"

Sensing something wonderful was about to happen, Alyson said, "Maybe you could change my hands?"

"Like how?"

"Well," suggested Alyson hesitantly, not really sure how far she could go, "you might lower them and then cuff them in front of me."

"What good would cuffing them in front of you do?"  Hazel asked, in a petulant voice that implied she knew the answer.

"Well, then," continued Alyson, "if you were to sit facing me, I could then put my cuffed wrists over your head and hug you to me."

Nodding, Hazel moved towards Alyson and her horse.  First, she unhooked Alyson's cuffs from the chain to which they were attached, and then she unlocked one cuff.  Alyson smiled her relief, but quickly brought her wrists together in front of her where Hazel just as quickly re-locked the one bracelet.  Alyson's hands were now locked in front of her.  Some of the pressure on her clit had abated, so she slowly exhaled as she sat back a bit.

Next, Hazel stripped herself and then she slid the step back under the horse.  Then, she went to a cupboard and removed a pair of nipple clamps joined by a short chain, a sizeable weight with a hook, one pair of hand cuffs and one pair of leg irons.  One end of the handcuffs she locked to one of her own wrists, but she left the other, open cuff dangle.  The key she put on a chain around her neck.  She then moved to the horse and hung the chain of the leg irons on 'her' end of the horse.  Next, she clipped each of her nipples and hung the weight on the connecting chain--this caused her to gasp.  Then, very carefully, she stepped up on the step and slowly put one leg over the board on which she would soon be resting her hairy cunt.

When Hazel was astride the board, she slowly lowered her body until her cunt came in contact with the board; then, with eyes wide, she dropped lower, until her crotch took up her weight.  When she had settled, there was a moment of realization: she blinked her eyes twice, and then smiled at Alyson who was watching all this with intense concentration.  Carefully, Hazel lifted her left ankle until she could feel the open manacle.  Hazel's left hand darted out and quickly closed the shackle, locking the left ankle.  With equal care, Hazel managed to secure her right ankle.  Now, without unhooking the manacle chain behind her, her feet would be unable to reach the floor to relieve herself of the very considerable discomfort she was now feeling.

Interrupting the silence, Hazel said to Alyson, "Okay, now put your arms over my head and drop them behind me."  Alyson did so. Hazel then took the weight dangling from her nipple chain and hung it on both hers and Alyson's chain.  Then, she threaded one arm between Alyson's arm and her body on the one side and outside Alyson's arm on the other side, and fastened her wrists behind Alyson's back.

"Voila!" said Hazel with some triumph.

In awe, Alyson said to her friend, as she now shared her discomfort, "Did you practice this?"


"Did you plan it?"


"Then, how....?"

"Alyson," Hazel began in a tone one would use to explain something very simple to a child, "you've taught me well."

Eyeing the key dangling on the chain around Hazel's neck, Alyson said, "Maybe too well.  Are you sure you can reach that key?"

"Well, if I can't, we'll be here a long time."  And as she finished that, Hazel leaned back, putting strain on hers and Alyson's nipples.  Alyson smiled and she too leaned back. They wiggled and giggled, and eventually they kissed.  At first, it was just a brush of the lips, but then Alyson's tongue darted out and Hazel captured it...and applied a suction like a vacuum cleaner.  It seemed to Alyson her tongue must come out by the roots but then she leaned forward, mashing her face into Hazel's. Their first cums were very quick, and violent, and nearly simultaneous.  After that first one, they alternated.  And after the third for each, they just sort of leaned into each other and rested.

When they finally decided to come down, Hazel suggested she lean back and Alyson, by following, might be able to use her hands to unhook Hazel's fetter chain.  And it worked within seconds.  Then, being able to stand, Hazel managed to release Alyson's ankle ties so that she too could stand.

"Shit," said Alyson as she stood, "getting off that fucking horse is nearly as bad as getting on it."

"Yeah," agreed Hazel, "but being off is definitely better than being on it."  Then, with care, and some fumbling, she managed to unlock her cuffs and the rest was easy.  Shortly, both women were standing beside 'their' horse.  Just then, they heard the door bell.

"Helga?" Hazel asked.

"Probably," Alyson agreed...and then, impulsively, she embraced Hazel and kissed her deeply.

They broke the embrace and Alyson went to the intercom phone and answered.  It was Helga.  Alyson instructed her where to find the key and asked her to come into the house and await them in the drawing room. Ten minutes later, Alyson entered the drawing room by herself.  She had brushed her hair, donned fresh make-up and a leather, full-length jump-suit, and knee high, high heeled boots with a concealed zipper.  Holding out her hand to Helga Sturm, she said, "So glad you could come.  My friend is in the shower and will be down shortly.  Did you have a nice trip?"

Helga was dressed in a leather suit.  The jacket fit nicely, coming down over her hips.  The skirt broke just below the knees, concealing the tops of the boots she wore.  On her hands were kid gloves.  Her only jewellery was a massive silver choker.  A leather tam was on her closely cropped, salt and pepper hair.  She wore no make-up.

"Ja, I did."

The two women sat.  Alyson asked if she might get Helga a drink, and Helga agreed a nice scotch might be in order.

"With water or on the rocks?"

"Neither.  I like it straight."

Alyson splashed scotch in a glass and poured a sherry for herself. She had just served Helga and resumed her seat when Hazel entered the room.  She was wearing a very loose fitting white blouse and a very short leather mini, and incredibly high heeled shoes. After the introductions, and after Hazel had fixed herself a drink, the three women began to visit.

"Helga," Alyson began, "I've told my friend Hazel where I met you and why I invited you to come here.  She understands."

Helga turned her attention to Hazel. "So, you understand, but do you agree?"

Not expecting such a direct question, Hazel was momentarily silenced, and then she smiled.  "Helga,"  Hazel began, "when Alyson brought me into her scene, I said I would try to do what she wanted me to do.  Of course, I had no idea where it would lead nor what might happen to me along the way, but I gave it my best.  There have been times when I've wondered if I had been crazy to agree to participate.  Oh, I was able to avoid being sickened by some of the things that Alyson has asked that I do to her, figuring she knew what she was asking, but some of it has been difficult.  And then, a funny thing happened.  Some place along the way I fell in love with Alyson [this brought a gasp from Alyson], and now I want for her whatever she wants, just so long as it isn't self-destructive."

Helga had picked up on Alyson's surprise and asked her, "You weren't aware of your friend's love?"

Shaking her head, Alyson said, "I really didn't.  Oh, we've made love and she responded, but I never thought that had happened."

"I take it you don't reciprocate?"

A longer pause, and then Alyson replied, "I've loved her from the first time she bound me."

Hazel spoke up, "Why Alyson, you little fiend.  Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Alyson retorted.

Both women rose from their places and embraced. After all were seated again, with fresh drinks, and Hazel had lighted one of her little cigars, Helga asked, "What can I do for you, Alyson, that Hazel can't?"

"Oh," began Alyson, "I believe Hazel can do it, but we need your experience.  I want to be racked, but I don't really want to have my shoulders dislocated nor my arms pulled from their sockets. Teach Hazel how to torment me in a serious manner."

Turning to Hazel, Helga asked, "Since you love her, are you still willing to do this?"

"Oh, yes, and I want to do it because I do love her.  This is no longer a chore or something to pass the time.  I know Alyson gets a very deep pleasure from her pain and torments."


Taking a deep breath, Hazel plunged on, "Yes, 'know.'  This afternoon, I joined her on her horse.  My cunt was resting on that goddamn board, the same as hers.  It hurt.  By god, it hurt; but I loved her while we were astride it, and I'd do it again to experience what we had today."

"You want to be like her?"

"'Be like her' is not what I mean," replied Hazel.  "Oh, maybe once in a while I like the idea of sharing her torments, and I know I'll want to do it again; but I don't want to do them by myself.  I want to know how to give her those torments just the way they should be given.  I know she gets pleasure from them.  I want her to get pain too, but a good pain.  One she can't control, but one she can trust."

"BRAVO," said Helga.  "Well said.  I will do it."

Through all this Alyson had sat with her jaw hanging down on her chest.  Part of the way through, her eyes started to mist over. And, by the time Helga had said "bravo," there were tears running down Alyson's face.  But she was also smiling through her tears. It was Hazel who looked towards Alyson first, and then Helga.  And then, nearly simultaneously, all three women stood up, moved towards each other and embraced. After several moments, and without embarrassment, the three resumed their seats.  Hazel and Alyson lighted up, and all three sipped their drinks.

"So, what do you want to try?" Helga asked Alyson.

"Well, the rack certainly.  But, after that, I need your help."

Helga nodded before she spoke, and then she began: "Yes, of course, the rack.  It does have a certain macabre fascination, doesn't it? Let's see, you have your own rack as I believe Alyson told me."

"How about hanging?"

There was a pause, and then Alyson said, "Hanging?  As in from the neck?"

"Yes, yes," replied Helga in a very business like voice.

"Well," replied Hazel, somewhat hesitantly, "I suppose you know what you're doing, so Alyson conceivably would survive.  We hadn't talked about it, but if it will do for Alyson what she seeks, I'm all for it."

Again, Alyson was surprised by Hazel's direct involvement.  She had realized her friend was ready to indulge her whims, but she didn't expect this active participation.  And then she realized it was a good thing.  By sounding out all her thoughts ahead of time, Hazel would be more ready to proceed at the actual event.

"Excuse me," Alyson said with a smile in her voice, "since it to be my neck by which I'm to be hung, might I have a say in all this?"

Both Hazel and Helga looked at Alyson as if someone who wasn't supposed to speak had spoken.

Smiling graciously, Helga replied, "But of course dear.  What was it you wished to say?"

This condescending approach sort of unnerved Alyson, and for a moment she had nothing to say.  Assuming Alyson wasn't about to say anything, Helga turned back to Hazel and began to speak: "Hazel, I'm not sure you're approaching this correctly.  It is not so much what Alyson seeks, but what you decide to do to her."

"Stop!" Alyson had regained her voice.  "Helga, I'm sorry but you seem to have misunderstood my invitation for you to come help Hazel."

Again looking at Alyson as if she had made an unwelcome sound, Helga spoke to Hazel: "Perhaps we'll have to gag her or something. She simply persists in interrupting."

Hazel wasn't sure she had heard Helga correctly.  She did know her friend was very upset.  "I'm not sure I understand you Helga.  Is it your intention to ignore Alyson's wishes?"

"Not ignore so much as to not tolerate.  She must be made to understand she is nothing, except someone to feel."

Hazel replied, "Helga, I know Alyson wouldn't have invited you here under these circumstances.  I can only assume you totally misunderstood her, or have willfully chosen to change the arrangements.  If you misunderstood, perhaps we could begin again; if you want to change the arrangements, I suggest you re-negotiate with Alyson."

At last Helga seemed to catch on.  "Perhaps I have misunderstood. Under the circumstances, I think it would be best if I left."

And so she did.

For several minutes, neither Alyson nor Hazel spoke.  Then Alyson said, "Thanks Hazel for setting her straight.  She gave me the shivers."

Hazel chuckled.

If you have any further chapters of
Alyson's Story please let me know

02.11.04 updated
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