Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

Double Jeopardy

by SelfBoundOR

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2009 - SelfBoundOR - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf+; rope; gag; cuffs; nipple; toys; mast; fantasy; stuck; cons/nc; X

Authors Note: This story while it is not a direct follow up to The Villain, it resolves the open ended-ness of that story with a bit of flashback.


Sarah took a sip, but then had to resist spitting her mouthful out across the table.  She managed to swallow without dousing her companion, and burst into a big laugh afterward, "Are you serious, he said that?"  Kate was caught in a bite of her cookie, excused herself as she swallowed and responded in kind, "Yeah, that little douchebag actually thought I OWED him for coming to my rescue...” She realized her voice was rising to a level audible to those at nearby tables, and she put her hand to her mouth and chuckled, giving an embarrassed look that Sarah returned.  Kate had picked this place for coffee because it was usually empty after lunch and they found a quiet nook there to chat about things that they didn't necessarily want others to hear.  People near the front of the cafe were talking about movies from the 50's.  Two retired men near the kitchen were arguing about Jack Dempsey vs. Muhammad Ali, an age old "Who would win?" contest men and boys had all their lives.  These were nice and boisterous, and they drew attention from the two attractive women sitting in the back, their hushed tones carrying the sordid details of humiliation and discovery at the hands of one man named Matt who, unwittingly, must have cashed in all of his “lucky chips” to fulfill his fantasy of finding a gorgeous young woman naked, bound and helpless, inadvertently falling under his clumsy control; not once, but twice.

Sarah and Kate shared the ignominious medal of having been caught by that buffoon while indulging in a little innocent self-bondage that he turned into dangerous no-escape situations.  Kate recalled the story like an episode of a TV show, a rhythmic tale of plans gone wrong one day when she set herself in a taut spread eagle to the corners of her bed with iron head and foot boards, lingering joyously alone for several hours, leaving out no small details about her favorite black gag and the custom clamps she had made that started at excruciating and went to medieval.  Sarah imagined a laugh track as the story progressed, and the lively whispers evolved into a debate of the benefits of being spread versus closed in a tight bind; Sarah argued her points for the defense with the memory of the Matt event still fresh in her mind.  They found their conversations of technique and style titillating and informative, and both lamented the fact that they had not had each others company and counsel sooner than that night two months ago when they first met, sharing two technical mistakes that made them a unique pair; they both dated Matt and in the fuss and flurry of their kinky indulgence, they both forgot to lock their doors on fateful nights.

"He is one lucky fucker" grumbled Sarah. 

Kate retorted, "So are you.  If he had brought home any other of his friends that night... well... who knows if anyone would ever had seen you again.  Matt is actually a nice guy.  I guess that why I let him stick around for as long as I did once he knew my... tendencies.  He pretty much behaved himself and came when I asked.  I wouldn't want to reveal it to him, but there were a few times he really did save my ass.  I definitely drop keys more often than I like to admit."  Sarah smiled a big grin and took another sip of coffee.  Kate continued, "If he had brought Dave to your home... or STEVE... oh my god, I don't want to think about what they would have done to you." A nervous flutter passed hidden through Sarah as the memories came to mind.  Kate added, "I thought it was odd at the time that he insisted I go to your place after the movies.  I'd like to think he was trying to introduce kindred spirits, but he was probably looking for some once-in-six-lifetimes three-way." 

Sarah shielded her mouth as she let out a hearty chuckle, "The look on your face when you came through the door and he turned on the lights will be burned into my brain forever.  I thought I was embarrassed by his discovery.  I think I almost fainted when he DID bring someone home.  Most people would have been horrified, or immediately afraid of being the unwitting accomplice in some desperate caper.  Looking back, I think now that maybe you were critiquing knot placement and my choice of men." 

Kate took a little breath through her nose as she gave a slight laugh at the thought, "I was... and they both sucked." 

"Screw off, you bitch". Sarah said sarcastically through her smile, "You and I were apparently cut from the same damaged cloth." 

Kate raised her cup, offering a toast, "Well, here's to damaged cloth, as long as it's being used for tight cleave gags." 

Sarah's lips curled into a wicked grin, "I'll drink to that."  Their cups gave a high-pitched little "tink" as they touched.

A minute of quiet passed between them as a little tension built, the thoughts of their exploits rattling around fresh in their heads.  Kate caught Sarah gazing at her just a second too long and broke the silence first, "I have to keep saying thanks to you.  You've been a godsend since Matt's usefulness dried up; I'm not letting that weasel within a thousand yards of me, or you." She paused a moment, thinking, "Without you, I'd be climbing the walls for a little bit of scene.  I might have even resorted to my teenage antics... I'm a little too old for naked mad dashes in handcuffs across the park at dawn... "  Sarah heaved a little laugh. Kate went on, "I dare say, you've kept me downright respectable; at least out of jail.  And yet, you're very bad for me, a reliable enabler” 

Sarah responded with a snark, "I'm here to serve.  And let's call it more of... a codependency." 

Kate gave a satisfied nod and sat back in her chair, "If you insist, my dear.  Though I have to say the dependence has been rather one sided, and I've been quite selfish, and happily so.  Which leads to my next question..." Sarah set her coffee down and braced for the question she knew was coming, "Why haven't you let me release you yet?  You've come to me three times like clockwork.  Hell, the last time, I didn't even set up my own release; I knew you'd come.  Bet you didn't know that."  Sarah raised an eyebrow.  "You've more than proven your trustworthiness as far as I'm concerned... why won't you let me return the favor?"  Kate's voice dropped to a whisper, "Have you even been playing?"

Sarah was silent for a minute and Kate watched as her face revealed a little apprehension to the question.  She was deep in thought, and Kate came in again, "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't pry..."

Sarah cut her off apologetically, "Oh no... you're not prying.  On the contrary; I can't believe I have a person who not only understands the little demons in my head, she shares them.  You're a gift, and I don't want to squander it." 

Kate blushed a little, "Well, I don't want to wear out my welcome with you.  I just want to be sure you don't have misgiving about our arrangements.  Neither of us should feel one ounce of reservation about our choices or our pleasures.  Personally, I have never been happier..." 

Sarah smiled and her expression returned the compliment, "I'm in a great place in my life, and you make it a little better every time we have our talks.  I'm dying to get a little crazy again and take some big risks. Lord knows I need it.  My last few session have been pretty tame, and even the night with Matt, while terrifying for a while, lacked a little of the luster I experienced this one night a few months ago..." Kate was silent, her eyes wide in anticipation of a great story.  Sarah's face to on a look of resignation as she began to "confess" about the night in the shower, her voice a whisper, forcing Kate to lean in.  Her memories and emotions about the evening ran deep, and her arousal bloomed as she recalled subtle details like the tension of the ropes around her breasts and through her nethers, the Velcro strap she thought was a clever break point, the way the short clamp chains fought with the shower floor to keep her dancing and sliding around in her own excretions, making balance a near impossibility, adding to the precarious situation.  She revealed how sexy and vulnerable she felt, how her femininity became a blessing and a curse as she writhed in agony, how perfect and complete the bondage seemed to her.  Simple as it was, it held her fast and long.

Kate listened raptly, injecting little technique questions about her process.  She asked about the release and Sarah looked at her sheepishly, sighing at first as if to clear the air, "I thought... I thought I could pull out of the clamps.  I had no idea how steadfast they'd be.  I felt like they were welded to my nipples."  She paused, a few butterflies danced through her stomach as she recalled the subtle error that nearly did her in, "My plan was to simply struggle out of them, pull and yank, through the pain, and walk over to the key.  But I learned otherwise..." Her breathing deepened, partially from anxiety, but more than a little from the sense of arousal the memories of fear and uncertainty generated.  Kate listened silently as Sarah continued, "I can't believe how foolish I was, and if plain dumb luck didn't strike when it did, I don't know what would've happened to me.  I wouldn't be here telling you this story.  The 'Matt' event never would've occurred.  You would have read about me in some paper or on-line... the robbery victim left to die alone in some isolated apartment..."  Sarah stopped, and closed her eyes; a tear slipped from her left eye and she stifled a sniffle.  Kate consoled her, "Sweetie, it's OK.  You're here, with me... life continues.  See?"  Kate held her hand out like a spokes model, presenting the hustle and bustle of daily life to Sarah, a reminder she was young and alive, and it was not to be wasted.

Kate spoke softly, "Don't you see, fate has brought us together.  This is why I'm here.  It's Kismet!  Matt the Jerk's only reason to be alive was so that you and I could meet… and together, we can face your demon.  That second time you came to my apartment and were surprised to find me still chained to my bed... how do you think I felt?  I didn't want to drop the key... I wanted to break out, pleasure myself and titillate you with stories of my exploits.  But the sound of that key hitting the floor... I can't tell you what terror went through me.  You can't imagine how gruesome the accident in my head was; the one person aware of my peril incapable of getting to me.  Every horrible person I knew was going to come in through my bedroom door and torture and rape me.  But deep down I knew you would come, and you did.  The terror and the waiting are only delicious because relief is coming and we get to stand at the edge of the abyss another day.  You brought me the relief.  And it's time I did the same for you." 

Sarah dabbed another tear from her eyes and gently blew her nose, calming down, "You're right... I need to do something for me... to get back in the saddle..." 

Kate cut her off, reinforcing her point, "No, Sarah.  You need to do the same session.  Embrace your fear and know I'm there for you too." 

Sarah stared into her friend's brown eyes and mulled her words.  She was silent for a minute more, then, "OK... come to my apartment at 9 on Friday night. 

Kate beamed, "I'll be standing behind you with key in hand at 9:01.  There's a locksmith down this street.  Let's get a copy of your house key."

The rest of the week was nearly non-existent to Sarah as her thoughts strayed every few seconds it seemed to her imminent sentence and punishment.  The thrill and anticipation she had felt some months ago prior to the first time was replaced with dread and apprehension.  She was a repeat offender, fully aware of what awaited her during her new incarceration.  Even Kate's words and guarantee were of little comfort, and by the time Friday afternoon arrived, her desire to plead for a stay of execution was palpable; but who would listen.  Kate was adamant about returning the favor, and in many ways, Sarah felt like she was doing this for her as much as herself, maybe even a little more.  This would certify their codependency in rope and steel, and that actually made Sarah a little proud.  She and Kate were fast friends, and she didn't want to disappoint.  Still, 5PM came too fast for Sarah's liking that day, and she made her way home with the resolve of a "dead woman walking".  She swore every person on the train home knew exactly what kind of “perverse” activities were in store of the voluptuous brunette leaning against the door, and she could feel their judging eyes and imagine their lust and disdain at the fact that she was naked under clothes, her blouse, her skirt, her undergarments merely brushing against her creamy pale skin, tickling and arousing her.  Her nipples stiffened under her bra and she peeked down to see just how much was showing.  The suspense was killing her.

She flew through her front door right after 6PM, closing it quick and locking it, then opening the lock and locking it again to be sure she heard the dead bolt click in place.  The only other person with a key was still a few hours a way and Sarah bided her time.  She dumped her bag and keys on the kitchen counter and kicked her brown shoes with the three-inch heels to the corner of the hall near the door.  She may have hated shoes, but she still wanted to wear sexy ones if she had to.  The cool hard floor greeted her warm, bare feet and she indulged in the first sense of freedom she had felt all day.  It was refreshing and a wave of relaxation washed over her.  To add to that sensation, she headed for her bedroom, stripped her clothes off from head to toe and gave every inch of her body a full stretch.  Her full 36D breasts danced and shimmied as she worked out the kinks and a little spark of lusty desire burned like a new ember in her brain.  She kneaded her tits and gave her nipples the pinch they'd been asking for all day.  She let the dull ache linger for several seconds and her eyes slipped shut gently.  Her kink motor slipped into 2nd gear and she remembered a little promise she had made to herself the last time she prepared for this session.  She pulled the naughty box out of the closet and retrieved her gorgeous, shining furry ankle shackles with the 12-inch chain.  She tucked the key to them into a corner of her nightstand and bent over to apply them.  The cold steel against her delicate ankles shown like jewels, accentuating her shapely feet, and the slow mechanical clack of the ratchets as they form fitted to her limbs were like a favorite song; she could hear it over and over again.  Wearing them as she padded about the apartment in her bare feet just felt so damn sexy to her; it was just what she needed to get in the right state of mind.

She left the box on the bed and headed for the kitchen, the sound of the chain rattling against the floor as she took tentative steps in her restraints was loud and disturbing and she imagined the whole building could hear what she was doing.  In the kitchen, she pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and uncorked the bottle of red she loved sitting on the counter.  She took noisy hobbled steps to her couch with her glass of wine and curled her legs under her and reposed naked into the soft cushions, the fuzzy material comforting to her skin.  She left the lights off and sipped her wine silently in the waning light of the early evening, posing and admiring her pretty arches and soles captured in metal, and imagining the next couple of hours to come.  Her nervousness had finally been replaced with a little excitement and the green shoot of a story started to sprout in her dirty mind.  She was the renegade Queen of a defeated people, proud and defiant even now in the hour of her enemies' triumph.  Her victors, wanting to make an example of her, had condemned her to prison and torture in the high tower, reduced to a sex slave for the pleasures of her new masters.  She was mere minutes away from her sentence, but being respectful of her former rank, she was granted one last gentle luxury; a glass of her former home's vintage on a soft couch, a favorite indulgence, even if she had to partake while naked and chained.  She sipped her wine slowly, with dignity, embracing these last few moments of freedom.  The Queen was unafraid of the horrors that lay before her, and vowed she would be an example of resilience in the face of agony.  Sarah's heart raced as the flowers of the story bloomed and she gulped the last of the wine from her glass and got gingerly onto her feet to attend to the task at hand.

In her bedroom, she made quick work of the majority of her rig.  Her new ropes provided the breast and crotch tie, the cords doubled over and pulled snug, making firm coils around her torso.  Her breasts were pulled tight into the bulge she loved to menace them with and she rubbed and poked at the now taut skin that protruded into her view.  The crotch rope, a simple tie that seemed to work so hard against her, was alluring in the mirror; the torturous thong bikini that became more maddening to wear with every move she made.  She slipped the red ball between her teeth and wrapped the harness around her head; nothing in her wardrobe fit quite as perfectly as the leather straps that left her silent against her will.  She slipped her handcuffs into her belt and gave them a tug to remind her who they were really working for, and they slid teasingly over her curvy ass she walked about, almost ready for her stay.  The Queen looked in the mirror, the elegant woman who just a few days prior was clad in the finest silk and satin royal gowns was now trotted out in a mockery of clothes made of tattered rope that offered not even a false shred of dignity.  A tear fell down the Queen's cheek as the memory of beauty and honor faded, replaced with lust and servitude.  Death would have been preferable, but her captors would not allow such as easy escape, and her arduous fate was sealed.  Resigned to hers and the Queen's doom, Sarah plucked the clamps and the Velcro strip from her box with little fanfare, wiped the tear she shed from her cheek and entered the dungeon of her bathroom.

She stood for a moment staring at the shower door, her cell, and the visible heart of her fear.  She realized that she forgot to check the time, but since she was home after 6 and took her time getting to this point, she wouldn't be in her bondage that long; she really only wanted to be in long enough to get herself worked up nicely, have a little screamer into her pillow (or her gag) and follow through on her promise to Kate.  Her mind a ways off from her body, she opened the door to the shower stall, stepped in and closed the door behind her with a water-sealing click.  In a moment of sprite-fullness, she thought it would be a nasty gift for Kate to stopper the drain and leave a shower full of urine for her to deal with.  She applied the stopper and chuckled to herself behind her gag, a happy little grunt repeating itself in her throat.  In the little chamber, she wrapped the clamp chain up in the Velcro and wrapped the strap around the handle-bar mounted into the wall.  She let the wicked jaws hang there for a minute as she contemplated what was at stake here: her body, her sanity, her friendship.  If she was lucky, all three would survive the next hour or so in one piece.  After her moment's hesitation, she scooped the clamps up and quickly applied them to her pert tips.  The sting swelled into a spark that spread into a fire and within seconds her nipples were little beacons of anguish.  Her determination was plummeting and in a moment of panic, she did the opposite of what she wanted to do and snapped the cuffs shut around her wrists behind her back. 

The full understanding of what she had just done was slow to emerge and she wrestled against the cuffs and crotch tie for a few seconds in an effort to bring her hands up and slip the clamps off, but it was too late, and now she knew it.  Her nipples seemed even more enraged than the last time and she imagined she now knew how ants felt when a rotten little kid tried to burn them with a magnifying glass.  Those ants were dying their excruciating, lingering, incinerated deaths on the brown tips of her breasts. She gulped air through her nose and the corners of her mouth in a vain attempt to quell the hot needles she envisioned were torturing her most delicate flesh.  The pain was intense so fast, she couldn't understand why; and her knees, only a few minutes into the session, began to tremble and buckle.  Her feet started to dance looking for sturdy purchase, and she soon remembered first hand the subtle agony and exhaustion of being forced onto her toes.  Her arms kept trying to snap away from her body in a futile gesture to maintain balance, and each time the twitch registered like the tail of a whip lashing against her tender labia.  The sum total of her distresses were too many to manage at once and deep groans formed in her throat as her lungs groped for air to fuel the multiple torments. 

Sarah slipped out of reality and saw her Queen, dark hair, pale skin and the men who would be her inquisitors, faceless and wretched, their cocks engorged at the sight of the deposed royal desperate in her dance for relief and ravishing from harnessed head to shackled foot, desiring more to see her suffer as a chained animal and seethe with secret yearning than to merely expel their lust in a minute's pleasure.  The Queen moaned behind her sealed mouth, and twisted ecstasy spread across her face as she was finally allowed to exult in the gutter pleasure of physical torment that awakened the feminine aspects of her body that she long desired in secret but not dare partake of as a member for her former station.  The regal hostage contorted and spun her hips, letting the rope burning her pussy rub her into a frenzy.  The perverse men were of little consequence as the Queen welcomed the now throbbing ache in her nipples, pounding in time with her heart beat.  A slick wetness formed between her legs and the Queen focused on the sensation of the large warm drops spilling from her soaking sex, rolling down her thighs with a million tiny legs.  They wanted to humiliate her, but more than they, the Queen wanted to bask in the warmth of her sexuality and helplessness.  With her old life a distant memory, the Queen submitted to her new role and embraced her fate.  There was nothing left for the raven beauty but to relish the one thing that was hers anymore: her visceral passion brought on by her utter degradation and descent into submission.  There was nothing to do but stand there helpless and enjoy every piece of pain and pleasure her body could muster from its bindings.  The Queen threw her head back as gasps racked her heaving chest and a warm vibration began to explode from her loins...

Wave after crashing wave of intense orgasm flooded through Sarah's body, and if she could have opened her eyes, she imagined she would have seen every cresting sensation physically ripple over her skin like a storm in the ocean.  She perceived that each tingle she felt appeared as a shimmering good bump and her flesh had the texture of living TV static, abuzz with everything and nothing all at once.  Her climax flowed from its font for several more seconds and her hips were thrusting the air, making her crotch rope slide against her clit, making the intense sensation linger.  She gave her hands a yank behind her and the fresh dig sparked another burst of bliss; this time spraying a spatter of her natural lube all over her inner thighs.  The flood streamed down her legs, sneaking into her arches and spreading under her feet, smearing across the floor of the tub.  Her feet slipped outward on the fresh dampness and her legs started to spread.  The ankle chain snapped taut and she fell away from the wall, the clamps chains also snapping straight, holding her upright but adrift in space.  Sarah let out a low growl from the multiple points of pain setting off sparks high and low.  The tingling began to ebb, leaving behind a warm, glowing flush throughout her body; her nipples throbbed as if every impulse in her being were wired to pass through them first.  Minutes passed and the waves subsided and her breath took on a steady pace.  The puddle of her slippery juices started to dry and leave a sticky little patch for her to dance around.  She stood their pinioned to the wall, rocking back and forth from one foot to the other, embracing what was left of her sexual rush.  The endorphins were quickly disappearing and the ache in her nipples and crotch reignited with lighting strikes.  Her slow breathing was interrupted with sporadic whimpers as trembles returned to her limbs, shaking her off balance and tweaking her clamps as she fought it.

Her orgasms over, agony now arrived; the constant unrelenting reminders of every second she was to spend in her constrictions.  Additionally, her little gift for Kate was already starting to build pressure in her bladder.  She could feel every inch of her ligatures: the ropes, the cuffs, the shackles, the gag, the clamps; every implement she imposed on herself ordered her to do one thing - obey.  Her job now was to stand as still as possible and prevent her toys from searing what was now chaffed, raw and compressed.  She spread her legs to the length of the chain and found a momentary stable position in which to silently wait, but her willing spirit was no match for her weak flesh.  Her calves started to shake as her toe stand became too much to bear and she danced about a little to ease the strain.  With a few more deep breaths, she could feel her dam breach and a slow trickle started to slip from her down below.  She let out a deep breath and relaxed her muscles issuing a surge of hot urine that immediately spattered against her crotch rope.  The spray sent large drops in all direction and her legs and feet were quickly covered in a wet coating that streamed to the floor of the tub, re-icing the surface she stood on.  She had not peed since the morning and her flow ran for nearly a minute. 

New waves of relief washed over her with a warm satisfying rush as she continued to pee unabated.  The wall directly in front of her reflected a good deal of the spray and her legs were now drenched, her feet were no longer just wet but instead sitting in a large puddle that filled the whole bottom of the tub about a quarter inch; the drain stopper was obviously doing its job.  Her stream finally ended and she surveyed the damage.  Her legs were soaked from crotch to ankle, quickly getting sticky; her feet weren't so much wet as completely submerged to her toes.  She sloshed about in her fluids as her feet slipped continuously on the newly slick surface.  The rope running against her pussy was hard and rigid from the soaking is absorbed, exacerbating the raw burning she felt whenever she moved.  Worst of all, the smell of the pool she stood in became very pungent very quickly, the worst odor of a filthy women’s bathroom in a seedy club, and it started to make her gag, but with the ball tight between her teeth, she could do nothing but inhale the ripe fumes into her nose.  A new sense of shame knotted Sarah's stomach as the image of the Queen, debased and filthy, standing naked and bound in a blocked sewer of her own emanations, became the nadir of that once majestic life and any light that had illuminated her greatness was now completely snuffed out.  Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes and she embraced their shared misery, ready to bear the Queen's humiliation and submit to the unknown stretch of time that lay before her.

Time became a meaningless sensation as Sarah loitered in her dungeon.  She was unable to tell if her breaths counted the minutes or if it was the other way around.  She didn't care anymore, and for just a moment, a small piece of Sarah imagined her joy and horror if Kate somehow was unable to show up to save her.  She wasn't even going to try pulling herself free of the clamps; they already hurt way too much.  Besides, if she was willing to submit herself to this torment a second time without a good plan, then perhaps whatever fate she met here was deserved, and she thought maybe she could face her mortality if she could spend her last hours like this.  Her own harsh judgment and sense of desire set off the little war in her head as it did last time between resignation to her fate and the basic desire for survival, and she let the two duke it out on a placid battlefield.  She would remain here, quiet and ready for whatever happened. 

Soon enough, the "survivalist" army shouted cheers of victory as Sarah could hear the click of the lock in her front door and creak of the hinges from beyond her private cage.  Footsteps entered her bedroom and she could hear something flop on the bed.  The bathroom door opened, followed by the shower door behind her.  In that position, it was impossible for her to turn around far to see who was there, but over her shoulder the smiling face of Kate greeted her, and a little sense of embarrassment was mixed with a swelling of relief and glee.  Her friend looked happy and she was glad to have suffered for her.  Kate ogled the prisoner, "Oh my god, I knew you were pretty, but look at you.  You're like the model for an erotic Greek statue.  You make me sick.  Are you sure you're not a porn star?" 

Sarah blushed at the compliments, and thought, as she WAS providing an enticing sex show to her friendly voyeur, that perhaps in their little world here and now, she was a porn star.  She gave her ass a little wiggle and a little moan sneaked out of the gag.  "Oh very nice", Kate quipped.  The smell of the urine reached Kate's nose and she wrinkled her face in protest.  "Oh… and not so nice... is that for me, you filthy little bitch?"  Sarah gave a throaty chuckle at her complaint and gave a little splash with her foot.  'Well, smarty pants, since you were so thoughtful, I thought you'd like to know I have a little something for you."  Sarah puzzled for a second, considering that in her rescues of Kate, she was quick to just get the key into her hand. But Kate had not even picked up the shiny slip of metal from the vanity where she left it earlier.  Kate let an evil grin spread across her lips, "I'll be back in a minute.  Don't go anywhere..."  Sarah groaned.

Kate left the shower door open and disappeared into the bedroom.  Sarah imagined that in her inaugural release, Kate wanted to get her a little gift to commemorate the evening.  She chuckled to herself and turned her head back to the wall to ease the strain on her neck.  After a patient minute, she could hear soft footsteps emerge behind her, and she turned her head again to see what Kate had made her wait for.  A full cramp knotted itself up in Sarah's stomach as she caught sight of the woman behind her.  Kate was completely naked, her tan skin looking even darker in the shadows from the bathroom lights behind her.  A large red ball blazed its warning from its nest deep between her lips, the straps of a harness gag holding it in.  Skintight ropes dressed her breasts in the same fashion as Sarah's; her gorgeous 32C's bulging and straining in the compression.  Ropes cinched her waist, almost painful to look at, meeting a pair of cords tight as guitar string emerging from her crotch.  Kate performed a sexy little dance to show off for Sarah, who watched silent and still. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Kate stepped delicately into the shower stall, her tan bare feet submerging into the stale yellow waters swilling around the curved floor; she seemed to expect the ground to be slick and took caution to step carefully.  Sarah did what she could to keep her eyes on the bondage nymph, but her neck was starting to ache from the twist.  The shower stall was only a few inches bigger than a public phone booth, and Kate was right on top of Sarah, her tied tits rubbing against her bound arms and back.  Sarah could feel the warm flesh against hers and a new panic set in as this situation was suddenly well beyond her guessing the outcome.  What was Kate's game?  What about the release she was promised?  What could she expect Sarah to do in her state?  Her chest started to heave as Kate's hands wandered over her curvy ass, caressing the soft cheeks, her fingers following the trail of the crotch line into the warm moist darkness below.  Sarah gave an angry grunt and tried to resist the invading hands, but there was just no where to go and she pressed her body against the wall of the shower, her tits splayed against the cold hard plastic, clamps scraping the gritty texture, helpless to escape.  A series of whimpers started to repeat out of Sarah's gag-sealed mouth and she tried to turn her head as far she could to meet Kate's gaze and implore her to stop, but Kate was directly behind her, hidden from view.

Kate's hand reached around into Sarah's view, startling her and causing her to give her short clamp chains a yank.  She let out a squeal and Kate allowed a throaty laugh at the sound.  She gripped the Velcro strap that held Sarah's clamps on the bar and slid it to the left end as far as it would go.  Sarah followed the movement as if bidden by an unseen force, in an attempt to keep the chains balanced and centered between her tits, and she found her left arm pressed firmly against the wall on that side, forcing her hard into the corner to keep the chains slack.  Kate disappeared from view, dropping down behind Sarah, and the rattle of chains were loud and distinct.  A definite tug on Sarah's shackle chain made her slide her feet closer together, sending urine into a sloshing tidal rhythm and making it harder for her to balance squarely.  She couldn't look down past her tits with them protruding from their bondage, so she did her best to interpret the sound of chain against chain coming from below; her ankles experiencing a definite constant tug of their connection.  She could feel Kate's shoulder pressing into the back of her thigh, and her confusion cleared up, replaced by a shard of terror piercing her stomach as the distinct sound of shackles ratcheting shut broke the quiet of the room. 

Kate stood up and wrapped her arms around Sarah's body, her dark sun baked arms standing in bright contrast to the soft milky skin of the helpless woman.  The embrace made Sarah panic even more and her chest and stomach put out a wave of gasps that the slender strong arms around them rode with ease.  Kate rubbed her leather-strapped face against Sarah's arm with a gentle cuddle, and then looked up into wide terrified eyes.  As a sign of her caring for Sarah, she propped up on tiptoe and pressed the ball protruding from her mouth against Sarah's, a sort of loving bondage kiss.  In this awkward lingering embrace, Sarah could feel Kate tugging on her shackles and knew that their chains were now wrapped around each other.  Kate leaned back from the "kiss" and looked lovingly into Sarah's eyes.  She grunted a series of unintelligible words, and Sarah tried to in vain to discern the expression in her eyes, a mix of love and sorrow, with a hint of a plea for forgiveness. 

Sarah felt as if she would pass out from the hyperventilation rushing through her nose, a shadow of fear from this mysterious woman's unknown intentions darkening her expression.  Kate released Sarah from her hug and pressed in along side, her right arm pressing hard into the wall on the other side of the now too tiny chamber.  Her hands emerged from her sides with a pair of clover clamps and a Velcro strap, and Sarah let out a scream into her silencer.  Her eyes went wild with fear at the thought of her friend's foolish escapade and she shook her head vehemently in a show of disapproval.  Kate could make out with certainty the one word Sarah repeated several time before they dissolved into anguished sobs, "No".  Sarah's eyes shed a flood of tears as her friend went about the task of securing her clamps to the right side of the shower bar.  Through her veil, Sarah noted how much thicker and heavier the metal of these clovers looked than hers, and the desperate reality of her situation really hit home. 

She let out one more loud throaty "No" through her gag, pleading, her throat raw and her voice cracking from begging, as Kate applied the deadly looking clamps to her own hard waiting nipples.  Sarah could feel the wave of pain Kate experienced as these special implements bit down and started their relentless task, causing their wearer to throw her head back and bark disapprovingly into her harness, thrashing slightly against the helpless observer.  With the clamps in place, the two women, though fit and sexy, were crammed tightly into the narrow space, their short tethers limiting their movement as much as each other’s bodies.  Kate managed to slip her hands behind her, and Sarah threw her head back and bellowed a cry for help at the ceiling, her hopeless grunts falling on no one's ears but the woman in her personal space distracted by her tasks.

A slow, deliberate ratchet sound echoed its staccato from behind the new victim, and Sarah dissolved into full blown mourning, unable to see and hear from the rush of water and blood to her head.  She was furious and terrified, out of her mind with fear that the one person who knew where she was and what she was doing was about to seal herself in their shared tomb right along side her, as helpless as she to escape.  Despite knowing that Kate could not understand what she said through her gag, compounded by her gasps and sobs, Sarah tried to reason with her, but the futile words she tried to utter failed to emerge even in her own ears.  Kate ignored the last angry missives and struggled to squeeze her left arm back in front of her, twist it around and push her hand between Sarah's right arm and right side.  Sarah had nowhere to go and stood in silence, forced to allow the madwoman to apply one more strict kink into their rigging.  Kate managed to slide her left arm under Sarah's right arm and bend her arm back behind her, linking their arms.  With a stretch that made both of the women moan in pain as cuffs and crotch ropes creaked to their limits, Kate met her left wrist with her already cuffed right hand and slipped the remaining shackle around it, forming the cuff tight with a series of clicks and sealing the deal with the snap of her double-lock buttons.

Sarah stared at the wall directly in front of her, devoid of thought as the shock of her dilemma settled in.  The earlier idea of her death in self-bondage made her release seem all the more appealing.  Now Death herself joined the helpless fray, and Sarah never knew how sexy and alluring she could be.  The woman inextricably draped across her arm startled to tremble, either from anticipation, or fear, or perhaps just the fatigue brought on by the work she just performed dooming the two of them in the makeshift prison.  She couldn't drum up the courage to look Kate in the eye, and despite the skin-on-skin contact with her fellow hostage, she felt even more alone than before. 

Perhaps it was the comparison to how she felt earlier, with the promise of release a short time away, that made her new sentence all the more deep and consuming.  It was as if this woman replaced her simple restraints with bricks, and mortar and cement and embedded her permanently into the structure of her bathroom, a fixture to remain here for the ages, used by others without regard like the sink or the toilet.  She tried to imagine her Queen; so base and meaningless in her new role that the sadistic binding of her to other women, prostitutes and adulterers who were already used to trading their sexual pleasure, did nothing to lower her spirits any further, she was already so broken and numb, this slight could do nothing to her beyond pain her already aching muscles.  The title of Queen meant nothing now; that was another person in another life.  This naked, bound sex toy chained to the walls by her nipples and caged with the other animals was simply Sarah now.  And she was meaningless and non-existent to everyone except the line of men who came to the women’s dungeons for sexual release from the nameless, helpless pussies that lined the cell walls, clamped in place and facing away from the door so no one would care who or what they ever were. 

If her front door were to open now, she was sure it would be Matt, Dave and Steve, tipped off by the little slut tied next to her to the fresh meat open for the taking here this evening.  She probably even left the damn front door unlocked again, with a note to "come on in!"  Sarah felt so stupid, she was sure that was the plan.  Kate was far more adventurous and sex crazy than she, and this was the perfect ploy to get some that evening and be sure others would follow.  "Hey, you want to bang me and Sarah? At the same time?  I can arrange it, and she won't even put up a fight...” Sarah thought angrily to herself.  How could she fall for that "Your turn" bullshit?  Why would Kate give her up like this for a little pleasure of her own?  Did her woman's solidarity mean so little to her?  Her own body?  Sarah caught her breath and shook off this paranoid line of thought.  No, no that couldn't be it.  Kate was a horn dog and a risk taker, but she was grounded and she did everything on her own terms.  But were these her terms?  Did she want this that badly?  No way, she wouldn't risk everything to let those assholes have me one time, or her.  Though it would have been the perfect crime... two women brutally tied up and raped; who would ever believe those guys' story, the real story?  No!  That couldn't be it... there were too many variables too many unknowns and danger.  Something else was making her do this.  Perhaps some intense fantasy that wouldn't let go of her mind?  Her libido?  Is she in love with me?  "Fuck, this would be some way to show it", Sarah thought.  I hope we survive long enough to find out what it is. Sarah finally turned to look at her kidnapper/fellow hostage.  Here eyes were closed and she was lost in thought, enjoying this predicament on some level Sarah couldn't even fathom.  "I hope she's happy where she is, wherever that is..."

Kate was in fact quite deep into her own mental wonderland where she and Sarah were two of many young anonymous women, kidnapped and broken, kept in storage before being presented before a rowdy slave market of international power brokers looking for entertaining decorations to hang in the secret sex rooms of their isolated mansions and yachts.  But unlike the frightened woman chained to the wall next to her, Kate secretly made a dark deal, and willingly submitted herself to the slavers and their cruelty, driven by her unquenchable desire to be subjugated for her own perverse sexual pleasure.  The slavers considered her a prize for her wanton nature, and would have made her a top pick at the market, fetching the highest price.  But in her desperation for visceral satisfaction, she begged the men to send her down with the cattle, and humiliate her with the agonizing bondage they used to dehumanize the others.  The slave sellers had found that accentuating the pain and suffering of those features that defined the women’s sexuality was the quickest and most effective way to impose their will.  Her breasts and crotch were given apt attention, the sensation of the ropes an unending reminder of her fragility.  Her gag was a fairly recent addition to the training system, as the keepers simply grew tired of the grieving henhouse that developed over time.  The ankle shackles were merely a safety measure, keeping the cargo from easily escaping should one somehow break free.  That feature had yet to be tested.  But the application of the clamps, led by a sadistically short chain to the wall, was the piece that made her breasts, a prominent symbol she considered one of her sexiest physical assets and icon of her feminine mystique, ablaze with pain as they now worked against her; a constant reminder of her soft, meager flesh.  The full consequence of her decisions weighed heavily in her mind, and she felt her desire slipping away, replaced by regret and fear.  The agonizing pressure and burning she experienced from head to toe was only mounting, a ceaseless fire spreading from treetop to roots that she was powerless to stop.  In a moment of lapsed control, the victim who volunteered for her horrible duty released a few gentle sobs, her body convulsing gently as she gasped, allowing her to share the tactile results of her new despair with her cellmate, linked at the arms. 

Sarah felt Kate's body spasm as she heard throaty gasps escape her gag.  She turned to look at her and saw tears flow from her closed eyes.  She gave a little grunt to get Kate's attention who turned and opened her wet eyes to meet Sarah gaze.  Looking into each others eyes for the first time as equals in their predicament, Sarah suddenly saw the desperation she had tried to convey earlier herself.  Where Sarah's agony had subsided somewhat into a constant dull ache and numbness, Kate was only in the early stages of the spreading needles that stung every constricted inch of her.  Her eyes welled up with tears and a frightened look came across her face, a non-verbal clue that she was beyond control herself.  Sarah squashed the angry thoughts that her reliance on Kate to free her was dashed.  But she still felt that Kate had to have some plan and an idea, so when Sarah saw the helpless look of despair in Kate’s watery eyes, her own resolve disintegrated and her heart sank.  Sarah's fear quickly caught up with Kate's and the two sobbed uncontrollably for several minute, sending waves of unwelcome movement through each other that had nowhere to be transferred but to their tethered nipples.  Even just looking at each other was hard work; their lower bodies turned inward from the pull of their linked shackles, but their torsos, wedged between the walls of the stall and squared to the back wall by the pull of the clamps, were forced slightly outward, and turning their heads to see one another for more than a glance was straining at best.  Moreover, the few inches of room Sarah had enjoyed to ease the strain on her enflamed nipples by leaning on the wall and relaxing the tension was completely eliminated; both pairs of clamps were persistently snapped taut in an angry struggle to maintain their control, and they were winning.

While Sarah's libido had since waned in the throes of the rigorous session, Kate's was just now getting primed. Her sense of fear and helplessness stoked the furnace of her fantasy, while her tight rigging and the constant intimate contact and tearful exchanges with her cellmate provided a sumptuous reminder of why she had wanted to be there in the first place.  Every detail was working to feed her desire, and she soon found herself thrusting gently into the air, letting the now damp crotch rope works its friction magic.  The rope splitting her labia soon became quite slick and her thrusts turned into sexy little hips sways that were constantly rubbing up against Sarah.  She knew she had to let Kate take her turn in the earthquake simulator, if only to get her back to thinking of the here and now and what to do after the bliss had worn off.  But Sarah's patience was wearing thin as Kate's regular gyrating had started for her a wave of anguish that made everyone of their movements translate into a firm and constant yank on the clamp chains; great on the way to your climactic build up, no so much after they've been tormenting you for a few hours already.  Gaspy little moans sneaked out of Kate's gag and Sarah did her best to try and indulge in her friend's growing ecstasy.  She returned little moans of her own, feeding the image she was sure Kate had of the two of them in the thrall of some evil-doer or outrageous dare gone wrong, driving each other to distraction with their animal needs.  And soon enough, the gasps switched from pandering to authentic as they actually started to translate into Sarah's own palpable pleasure as she, too, began to grind against her crotch line, slipping surely over her sensuous rail. 

Kate's heat had sparked Sarah's passions into the start of a new frenzy, and her creative gears were once again spinning, fueling her emotional fire.  Sarah's Queen-turned-slave-toy revolted against her use as cheap pleasure drone in a momentary relapse of dignity.  Her stay in the palace as a highly sought after concubine was short lived as she tried to stab the visiting emissary she was given to.  Her captors returned her not to her private training room, but the lowest pits of the palace where even natural light failed to enter; the bottom sewer where every stream of refuse and excretion eventually flowed and only the most hardened criminals and incorrigible slaves were kept.  The young food servant she was now trapped with was caught spitting into the House Master's meals and the two of them were to be subjugated as cruelly as possible.  The cage they stood in was flowing with the castle's leavings and they danced and sloshed through the horrendous slurry.  They could hear their fate just feet away from them, male prisoners locked just on the other side of an iron gate were going to be given a reprieve from their forced labor with a treat of these two soft warm bodies.  The inmates' groans on both side of the door spoke of very different needs.  The two women trembled at the horror of their new sentence and begged in futility for forgiveness.  The male inmates, at least 10 of them from what the women could see in their bound state, were long used to the foul odor of their home and fixated on the smell of the wet juices flowing from between the sex slaves' legs and beat and punched each other bloody, jockeying to be the first to taste the sweet nectar.  Sarah envisioned the impending ravaging and her breathing settled into long, slow enraptured draws.

Despite the varying scripts in the women’s heads, Sarah and Kate were now vigorously riding the tight garrotes strapped to their nethers, thrusting and undulating with desperate need to satisfy their urges.  They grunted and moaned into their gags, swaying from unison to response, driven by the constant rubbing of their arms, legs and hips against one another.  They teased each other with the chains of their shackles, pulling them tight to taunt the other and increase their own helpless feeling another notch as they struggled in the real and virtual worlds they inhabited.  This was as close to sex with one another as the two women could have been in these circumstances, and neither was ready to hold back one bit.  As they writhed and bucked, their gorgeous full asses in constant motion, the women further taunted one another silently by pulling on each others arms at their entwined elbows, giving the other woman's handcuffs a steady pull, translating into a deep tug on her pussy bindings.  The bound lovers were at once pleasuring themselves and each other and this awkward battle of intimacy went on for quite a long time as each little welcome intrusion would break concentration just enough to prolong the sex match indefinitely.  As one, Sarah and Kate were rocking their shoulders ever so slightly; letting the warm dense sensation in their nipples undulate just enough between tug and pull to add to their delight.  Without words, each one knew exactly what the other needed to entice them further toward bliss or nudge them back to the frustrating edge.  Their subtle choreography was becoming automatic and the two disappeared into their heads while still occupying each other's personal space, communicating their affection and passion for each other physically while enduring the desperate dramas within.

Kate's "willing victim" became overwhelmed by the swelling sense of vulnerability imposed by her enslavement, and she surrendered to the inevitability of her horrific lot.  The orgasm broke over her with such intensity that her knees gave out and she hung for a moment by her nipples, flipping the "nitrous switch" on her already full burn.  Sarah did what she could to right her limp friend, but the tug on her arm was the catalyst she wasn't expecting; the young, imprisoned food servant gave out and surrendered physically, falling from her steady vigil to protect them from their self-induced pain.  All at once, Sarah's arms, crotch, nipples and ankles were jerked hard to buttress her friend, and her “iron gate” swung open letting the surge of voracious animals take her by force.  The genie had sprung from its bottle and wrapped her in a sense of bliss as the TV static sensation rippled under skin.  The two women moaned and spasmed, momentarily ignorant of each other, and all the stops came out as they rubbed and ground their way through the rush of tingling nerves and endorphins.  Full throated, lusty moans ebbed into shallow gasps and whimpers over the next few minutes as Sarah and Kate returned to Earth, spent and adrift.  The breathing slowed, and control of muscles returned along with the ache of fatigue and strain, and reality stared them in the face with the blank eyes of a shower wall.  Sarah and Kate exchanged glances, but rather than apprehension, their faces expressed appreciation for what they gave to each other, a loving thanks for the intimate time together.  Whether that feeling could survive the coming stay in their fix was yet to be seen.

Sarah's post-coital pee ritual was beginning to manifest, despite not having taken in a drop of water since her ordeal began; she couldn't imagine where the pressure was coming from.  She slid a foot tentatively a few inches back and forth through the well tread waters already lining the bottom of the narrow room, noting its depth by the sloshing sounds, and wonder how much higher it could go if the two of them had to pee as much again.  She turned to look at Kate and before she could get her attention, the sound of a stream and the random spatter of rainfall into puddles filled her ears, and she realized that Kate was relieving herself already.  The crotch ropes of course disrupted her hot flow and the sprinkler head effect sent big drops in every direction.  Sarah could feel the reflection of the spray all over her legs.  Kate let out a relieved groan as her excretion continued unimpeded by her inability or desire to avoid it.  Little yellow creeks running down the back and front of her legs swelled into cascading sheets, gushing like overtaxed storm drains into the rising pool below. 

Sarah, repulsed and engaged all at once by the idea of having to actually stand barefoot in someone else's piss rather just imagine its humiliating qualities, eased the anxiety in her stomach with some slow breathing.  She relaxed, and her own warm musk slipped from her, a wave of relief washing over her as quickly as the liquid down her legs.  It was not quite as intense as Kate's, but it was more than she anticipated, and she gave a little hum of satisfaction as he finished.  She wasn't sure if it was enough to hit Kate's leg from the spray, but Sarah noticed Kate let out a surprised little squeak and then a naughty chuckle behind her gag, obviously relishing the shared indignity.  The constant slipping dance of the two gave the pool a constant wave which made it difficult for Sarah to determine just how deep their private sewer actually was, but she was well aware of little splashes hitting her around the ankles, and both her feet felt warmer with the new infusion of fresh body heat.

Exhausted, aching, the two bound women stood as motionless as their slipping feet would let them, which was not very.  Pained little grunts added to the soundtrack of the lapping waves, a clear indicator that while their self-imposed distress was not due to end anytime soon, it also was not going to get better.  Kate found herself slightly more contorted from the arm link than Sarah, and she tended to dance a little more in a vain attempt to find comfort.  Sarah started to get concerned as she found her own footing repeatedly compromised by Kate's over compensation to her loss of traction, and her feet were nearly slid together in too narrow a stance from the yanking Kate gave the shackle chains.  Sarah gave a grunt in protest and pulled a little chain back to her side, and a tug of war ensued.  Kate had thought the linking of their shackles was a clever kinky form of writing "BFFs" in their school notebooks full of hidden doodles of handcuffs, but she was regretting the decision now and it was costing both of them precious energy. 

For what seemed an eternity, Sarah and Kate shuffled and vied for balance, a never-ending three-way duel between the two of them and the clamps; a contest of wills to see who could pull the hardest and make their intentions known, and neither of the women were winning.  In a moment of frustration, Kate kicked out as hard as she could to the right, yanking Sarah's feet firmly together and forcing her body to lean hard against the clamp chains, making her let out a definitive howl.  But Kate's kick also breached the corner of the tub where she had not stepped before and found she had kicked something over, but what it was she could not see, her tits more than enough in the way to be able to see straight down from her vantage point.  As she moved her momentarily slackened foot over the object, realizing it was some sort of plastic bottle, Sarah got her footing and yanked her chains back.  Kate's foot stomped down hard on the cylinder, and a definite pop could be heard as the force jettisoned the cap, sending it ricocheting off of two walls before landing with a splash in the bottom of the stall.  Both of the women froze and turned to face each other, trying to read their faces in an attempt to discern was that was.  Sarah briefly admonished herself for not pulling the bottles of products out before she began, and realized with a personal angry grunt that they would all have to be washed off thoroughly after the pee soaking they were all getting. The two stood still for another minute, and then, over the acrid smell of their combined fluids permeating their every breath, Sarah smelled the distinct aroma of her favorite conditioner, tea tree and mint, and she let out a lamented whine as she realized her $50 bottle of conditioner was now slowly spilling into the bottom of the stall, blending with each kick and slide into the wretched waste water.

Kate was now clearly beyond flustered, approaching panic, someplace she had thought she could avoid earlier.  As she stepped around seeking purchase on the balls of her feet, the conditioner floated under her left foot which then slipped out from under her, snapping her ankle tether angrily.  She let out a groan that Sarah detected was unexpected pain versus the kind they had been savoring more or less until then, and she found herself yanked hard from the wall, chains pulling taut as she helped her partner in misery regain her balance.  But soon enough Kate was falling again, and Sarah got her back on her feet just in time to make use of the arm hold and catch her own lost step.  She let out a dismayed whimper and realized that every place she placed her feet, any minute amount of traction she had found earlier was completely gone.  Soon, the two of them were gasping a chorus of perpetual grunts and squeals as they slipped and slid with every move.  They flexed their outer arms against the walls of the shower and tensed their hooked arms, forcing each other harder into the narrow space.  This bought them a few minutes of extra support as they tried everything they could to keep their feet from sliding out from under them.  The conditioner has permeated the entire pool and what they could not see was the sickly grayish color of the sweet and pungent liquid, their feet obscured beneath the cloudy surface that made the floor feel like grease on ice.

After several minutes of silent problem solving, they tried to take turns flexing and relaxing to extend their batteries into the harrowing night.  Sarah found that if she took short sliding steps forward, she could actually recreate the balance of walking and this helped keep her upright and ease a little tension on their nipples.  Kate followed suit, finding the motion a bit of relief compared to the rigid standing they had been maintaining most of the evening.  They continued to flex their arms in turn and break step to avoid pushing too hard one way or the other for what seemed like forever.  Before too long, their legs, feet and arms were straining to exhaustion and the walking became more of a Bondage Death March to Nowhere.  Any attempt by either one of them to translate this mindless horror into a fantasy about forced labor or prisoners marched through the swamp quickly dissolved as fatigue and pain were now working more against them than for them. 

Occasionally, one of their knees would buckle, causing them to slip and fight their way back to upright, completely drained of desire and will.  They traded places repeatedly, back and forth between quiet resolve and teary wailing at the turn of events.  Sarah was so numb from the night's activities that the idea of release had completely left her head.  After another "mile" of the march, she wondered suddenly just what they would do.  Kate had to have gotten into this with a plan; there was no way this was a one-way trip into madness and torture, she just didn't seem that foolhardy.  Kate knew something she didn't, and now in the last hour of treading lubricant, she seemed off in another place, thinking not about some pleasurable dungeon but rather calculating, wondering, looking over her shoulder for something that wasn't there.  Perhaps Kate had some timed trick up her sleeve and was trying to get a grip of how long they had been in the shower-cage; too bad that sleeve was probably lying on the floor in another room.

The hostages continued to tread the slimy soup, their breaths shallow and quiet, the only noise above the sound of churning piss and conditioner.  It was a steady soundtrack and Sarah closed her eyes in an attempt to drift off enough to make time slip by if possible.  Her ears were highly tuned to the constant splashing and her friend's long breaths, which was why the click of the lock on her front door seemed so out of place; someone was coming in.  Her eyes snapped open at the sound and she turned to Kate to see her reaction.  She seemed lost in thought and didn't seem to pick up the noise from Sarah's apartment like she did; Sarah was quite used to being tied up somewhere in here listening for danger.  The door shut solidly and Kate came around at the heavy noise.  She turned and saw Sarah straining to glean any info from the sound of the new intruder.  Kate shook off her stupor and began shouting desperately into her gag, unconcerned, it seemed, about who it might be.  Sarah watched her silently; worried about the attention she was drawing to the two of them still naked and fully helpless in shower.  She wasn't sure how it would have been possible, but she had no idea at this point what plans were in play, and for all she knew, that was Steve and Dave with a few new friends, and the fear of her rape fantasy from earlier in the evening came front and center; the sex starved prisoners had apparently really broken through their iron gate.  The bathroom door opened and Sarah gave a feeble "Hello" that came out as a heartless whimper as Kate was cooing into her gag.  The shower door opened and from the corner of her eye, Sarah saw the beautiful face of a middle aged woman with long curly red hair stand on the other side of the watery threshold.  She wasn't quite sure what to think about the nasty grin that grew on her face.

"Oh... my... god... look at you two.  You really tied the knot this time, Kate.  Are you sure you two aren't married now?" the sultry red head snarked to the backs of the two women.  Kate gave an approving chuckle.  The red haired suddenly recoiled a few inches, "Whoa!  Have you've been breathing in this sour urinal smell the whole time?"  She choked a little bit and swallowed, "Oh man, that's horrible.  Nice touch, pervettes." 

Sarah swallowed the pain of her neck breaking head turn to keep her eyes fixed on the mysterious woman.  She saw the green eyes of her would-be savior scan her body up and down, an approving raise of the eyebrow marking her satisfaction. "Wow, you were right, Kate.  She's a knockout. Her skin is as white as mine..."  The woman stretched to catch a side glimpse of Sarah, "And I'm pretty sure she has bigger tits than anyone else.  If I were you, I would have figured out a way to get myself in front and enjoyed those beauties." 

Sarah’s eyes widened at the suggestion, her brow furrowing into a severe look of concern and confusion, and tears welled up with a little whimper trailing off behind the latex, "Oh no... Kate planned this." she thought. "She knew the whole time she was going to do this to me, keep me here helpless, break me and then sell me out to this bitch.  Oh my god, for what?  What are they going to do now?  Oh god, PLEASE DON"T LEAVE ME HERE!"  The last thought came out as an unintelligible series of sobs and grunts as tears streaked out of here eyes.  The red haired woman leaned in and wiped the tears from Sarah's cheek, then moved her hand higher to stroke her head, long slender fingers running over the straps of the harness, responding to her cries with the utmost tenderness, "Oh sweetie, no... nothing bad is going to happen now.  I'm here to help you, not hurt you.  Hold on..." 

With that she turned to the vanity and picked up the shining silver key from the smooth counter, turned and placed the key gingerly between Kate's waiting thumb and forefinger, taking care she had a good hold of it.  Sarah watched what she could in her twisted position and listened as Kate nimbly opened her cuffs like a professional lock pick.  Kate started to take deep labored breaths as she let her arms lower from her sides, the breaths turning to groans as the ache in her stiff muscles hit full force.  As gently as possible, she pulled her arm out from around Sarah's, and the two of them let out satisfying grunts of relief and pain.  Kate got her hands in front of her and leaned into the wall, trying her best to keep the clamp chains slack and keep Sarah from slipping. 

The red haired woman watched the slow deliberate dance approvingly, studying their moves as if keeping a mental checklist.  Kate's hands dropped apprehensively to the heavy metal jaws on her nipples and gave them a squeeze.  It appeared to take a good deal of effort to peel the dangerous looking clips from her skin and as they dropped out of her hands and swung free, she pressed her body to the wall and let out what would have been a blood-curdling scream were it not for her tight gag.  Some hours ago Sarah might have wondered what the neighbors thought, but now she couldn't care less; she wondered only when it would be her turn to get the metal antagonizers off.  Kate found her composure and stood up straight, turning to Sarah.  She spoke into her gag is if she forgot it was there, and the red haired woman translated the idea to Sarah, "My dear, Kate is apologizing to you profusely and would gladly do anything to help right now, but she is bound by rule to simply hand you the key to your handcuffs." 

Sarah felt Kate take her softly by the wrist and hold the key against the pad of her thumb, keeping it still until Sarah was able to move her fingers and figure out up from down in her completely numb hands.  She gripped the key and Kate let go of her hold, the woman followed up, "I know this sounds incredibly cruel considering what the two of you have been through these hours, but you have to let yourself out.  Maybe you think you can't do it right now, but there can be no question about who binds you and who sets you free.  This is part of our rules."  Sarah turned to look at Kate, her body trembling from head to toe without her support now and Kate stood there, still wrapped in her breast and crotch ropes, harness gag firmly closing her mouth, her shackles still ringed around her ankles, her feet vanished below the milky surface she could now see had formed.  She was gripping the bar next to her clamp anchor for support; her eyes were big and pleading while she watched Sarah motionlessly. 

Sarah leaned into the wall in front of her and turned as much as the clamps would allow her toward Kate, and she gave her torso as shake, begging for help to free her nipples first.  Kate stood there, her eyes imploring understanding, she was held by this code to do nothing.  Some tears ran from Sarah eyes and she strained to bring her hands together close enough to find the keyholes in her cuffs.  It had been so long since she snapped them on; she couldn't remember whether she set the holes out or in, for her to open or Kate.  She fumbled for a minute, trying to coordinate her hands and fingers, but fatigue was just too great a hurdle and the key slipped from her fingers into the murky swamp below.  She sobbed as she realized what she had done and pulled hard against her clamps, turning to the two women who watched her suffering, and begged for help with her eyes and her sore throat. 

Kate got down on her knees, careful not to pull Sarah's feet out from under her, and ran her hands under the surface of the vile mixture, horrible smelling now that it was quite stale.  She didn't break stride as she slid her fingers around the floor and emerged from the depth with the key, which she gently placed back into Sarah's fingers.  The red hair woman spoke up, "Sarah, you have no idea how much affection Kate has for you.  I wouldn't dare stick my hand in that disgusting mix for one second to pull the drain plug.  She happily retrieved your key. And she's still waiting in it because she knows the rules."  Kate looked up at Sarah like she was looking into her lover's eyes, waiting for her next command, her calves nearly gone in the cloudy brew.  Sarah now knew at least where the holes were and after another minute of feeble fumbling, her right wrist fell away from the bracelet that held it for what seemed like a lifetime.

Sarah freed her hands from the cuffs and she took a second to fish the crotch rope from its deep chasm.  She let out a satisfied grunt and leaned into the wall as Kate did when preparing for the worst part.  She placed her palms flat against the wall and got her balance and slid one hand to the bar so she could hold on while the other hand did the dirty work.  Her left hand gave her left clamp the strongest squeeze it could and her arm trembled from the extreme exhaustion.  The clamp begrudgingly pulled free and before she could move to the other, she let out a scream that seemed to come from her toes and ran through her body, picking up speed along the way.  The feeling rushed back into her nipple on the backs of a thousand needles, and she rubbed it gently in a vain attempt to ease the burning.  She squeezed the right clamp and it popped off with a little pull, starting the enraged fury in the tiny patch of skin all over again.  She spent several seconds wondering if she was actually free from the horrible devices, swearing to never use them again.  She leaned into the wall and then felt a hand brushing her calf. 

She looked down and saw Kate looking up at her, still kneeling in the white broth, pointing wordlessly down to the middle of the floor.  Sarah started to bend over, but then leaned back against the side of the shower and slid down, letting herself drop slowly onto her ass and she took a seat in the fetid soup, her legs twisted up with Kate's.  She let a leg slip out from under her and a mini tsunami of malodorous filmy sludge flooded over the threshold of the shower stall, spreading out over the floor.  The smell caught them all off guard, but the red haired woman the most, and she covered her mouth while she looked down to see her shoes spattered with new dark spots where the liquid had landed, "Ooowwhh... you guys... these are Manolos!"  Sarah's head slumped to her shoulder, the exhaustion getting the better of her as she passed out asleep on the floor of the shower. Kate turned and looked up at the red haired woman, throwing her hands to the sides and shrugging her shoulders as if to mime, "Now what?"  She responded as she brushed the foul fluids off of the toes of her shoes, "Help her finish, Kate, and maybe run the shower to get you two cleaned up.  I'll go put on the kettle."

Kate spent the next few minutes getting the two of them out of the rest of their bondage gear.  She pulled the stopper and let the horrid pool they had formed run down the drain.  She scooped up the key Sarah had dropped as she passed out and unlocked all of their entwined ankles.  She unbuckled their gags and started to work on the knots when Sarah came to and reached down to help her finish.  She was groggy and disoriented, but she managed to get the tight lines loose and sloughed them off like sweaty gym clothes.  The gear sat in a heap around them at the bottom of the tub and Kate stood up and turned on the water, nice and hot.  She closed the door, helped Sarah to her feet, and the two spent several minutes luxuriating in the clean hot stream, the film of sweat, tears, piss and cum sliding off of them. 

Sarah ran her hands through her wet hair and looked Kate in the eyes, water from the faucet pouring down her face, the one she recognized before the harnessing.  She finally spoke, her voice scratchy and trembling with a little anger, "How could you have done this to me, Kate?  How could you torture me like this, and yourself?  How did you think we were gonna escape?  And who is that woman?  Did you two plan to kidnap me?  Are you going to keep me here against my will?" 

Kate looked into her eyes apologetically, "Oh honey, I don’t have the slightest desire to hurt you beyond your own pleasures.  Of course, if I was going to keep you here, I never would've untied you.  You're too pretty a package to just let go.  No... this is better than you could expect."  She leaned in like she was revealing a secret, "This is going to make our lives better, the part of our lives we like to share.  It isn't just you and me anymore, sweetie.  You've been let into the club." 

Sarah looked at her like she was crazy, and Kate smiled at the thought, "I don't want you to think I would ever hurt you for my own needs. I'd gladly hurt you for your own, but you're too important to me to make you want to leave me."  Kate embraced Sarah who returned the gesture, pressing their wet skin against one another.  "Do you remember when I first started this and I 'said' something to you through my gag.  I had a short speech memorized like a dork, but I was already gagged and too raring to go.  I said, 'Please don't cry.  I love you and I'm doing this for us.  When this is done and we're utterly spent, you'll understand and maybe even appreciate this trial'." 

Sarah pulled away to look into Kate's eyes, "Trial?  Kate, what are you talking about?  All I wanted was a kindred spirit who understood and shared my needs, and maybe make life interesting.  Was that too much to ask for?"

Kate gave Sarah a knowing look, "It's not, and if it's all you want, it can stay this way.  But today, you've gotten a whole lot more than you bargained for, and its gonna be worth it.  I promise.  The club needs you as much as you will need it."  Sarah stepped away from her as far as she could go in the tiny shower, now seeming huge with their range of full motion restored.  "What club?  What's changing?  Who is that woman?" Sarah demanded angrily.  Kate soothed her with a look, "Her name is Anita, and it might be best if I let her explain the rest."

Sarah and Kate lingered in the shower without another word until the hot water started to run out.  Kate never took her gaze off of Sarah, trying to break the awkwardness between them.  Sarah kept her eyes low and disappeared into her thoughts, wondering what to make of all of this.  They shut the water off and Sarah stepped out first, grabbing an extra towel from the linen closet for Kate, who ran the towel over her skin quickly, leaving a little dew in various spots, and gave her hair a quick tousle.  Sarah cracked a smile at how fast she seemed to be done, "Nice to have short hair, huh?"  Kate appreciated the chat, "I wouldn't have it any other way." 

She made a move to scoot past Sarah out of the bathroom and stopped just before leaving, turned and embraced her friend who had just wrapped a towel on her head.  Sarah returned the embrace, and despite spending the last unknown number of hours naked and tormented as one, butterflies gave a little swirl in her stomach as their two bodies pressed together, arms wrapped around one another as if for the first time.  Kate leaned in and snuck a peck on Sarah's lips, and Sarah gave a crooked little smile, "I don't want to lose you, Kate.  If last night was any indicator of craziness to come, I'm ready... I think.  I just need to understand." 

Kate cut in, "You will, I promise." She turned to leave the bathroom and Sarah stopped her, 'Wait, I have an extra robe here.  Do you want it?"  Kate turned to Sarah and struck a sexy pose, her wicked smile that Sarah loved spread across her face, "Nope... I'm good."  She padded away naked, heading for the kitchen, and Sarah giggled to herself, wrapped her plush robe around her and made her way to the kitchen.  Anita leaned against the counter, her look admonishing Kate's exhibitionism as she perched onto one of Sarah's bar stools on the other side of the counter, her legs falling open to either side, offering a splayed exposure.  She looked down at her pose, and then back at Anita with a childish retort; "You can't see anything from there...” 

Sarah came to her defense as she entered, "I don't know how well you know Kate, but after last night, this is downright innocent." 

Anita smiled and pushed a cup toward Sarah, "Thanks for hosting our tea time, sweetie.  I figured you could use a cup."  Sarah took a sip, evoking their coffee some days before when the world seemed a little different and less interesting.  Her eyes were still a little bleary from exhaustion and her eyes took a moment to focus on the clock on the stove, "Oh my god... it's 9:30... in the morning!"  She turned to look at the bright day outside then turned to Kate stunned, "We spent over twelve hours in there?" 

Kate nodded, biting her lip and Anita chimed in from behind her, "Well, love, Kate asked that I arrive for a 9AM release here."  Sarah's jaw dropped a little and she had trouble getting words out, "I spent twelve hours in agony and terrified because you two were on a schedule?"  She paused and turned her head to look at both of them, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't call the police right now and have you both arrested for kidnapping?" 

A sad disappointed look came across Kate's face and she whined a meager protest, "Oh... no... I thought you were...” 

Anita headed off the hurt feelings, "Sarah, I get it.  There is no way to understand why someone you care for would invite a stranger into you home for the purpose of telling you that you're suffering was part of someone's plan... and if you want us led out of here in police handcuffs, Kate and I will go quietly, and probably happily."  Kate's mouth dropped open, here eyes wider, "No not exactly..." Anita raised her hand to stem the tide again, "What Kate has obviously not explained to you yet is that she sacrificed herself to present to you the idea of release partners and group self-bondage, a sort of rite of initiation to our club of dedicated little bondagettes that make our favorite private peccadillo safer and more exciting.  After she told me about you, we both decided we wanted you in our circle." 

Sarah looked incredulous, "You have... a club?  How does that work exactly?" 

Kate chimed in, chipper and trying to impress, "It's sorta like a phone tree.  You contact someone in the club and ask they be available to "meet" you at a certain time at your session location... your home, a club, a car, the park..."

Anita stepped in again, "The rule is if you say your going to be a release partner, you have to show, or let someone else know where to go and step in.  I've never heard of a partner missing a meet-up, but like Kate here, a few have passed the torch in order to be part of the session.  We allow that as long as no one’s safety is compromised and everyone is on the same page.  This was your first so Kate pushed the envelope a bit.  It can get pretty intense."  Kate giggled, looking sheepishly at Sarah, "We know."  Anita smiled as Sarah blushed at the remark, "Kate wanted to show you what was possible, and it was my responsibility to offer the release.  That part is important and it sort of Rule 1 of our system, so I want to clarify; a release partner really has one duty, and that is to put the key in your hand.  It's your self-bondage: you get in it; you have to get out of it.  That's why Kate wasn't as forth coming with help earlier, and she had to wait for you to open the drain before she could fish out the key or free your shackles, the plug was your toy.  But I think it's obvious how she feels about you by the fact that she was willing to wait in the horrid urinal you two created until you were ready... very... loyal."  Kate blushed and dropped here eyes as Sarah turned to look at her, a goofy embarrassed smile forming.  Anita continued, "Obviously if the victim is in danger or really can't escape after the partner observes several release attempts, they would step in and help.  We don't want to lose our precious members."

Sarah was deep in thought, considering Anita's words, then came to with a question, "How many... members... of the club are there?" 

Anita looked proud, "Well, I'm hoping you'll make number five.  Our group is small but loyal, and dedicated to our... particular fetish.  I can say with no uncertainty that my own sessions have gone steps beyond what I thought was possible.  I've taken more risks and have enjoyed greater satisfaction from my helplessness and isolation than before I knew any of these other women.  It's been liberating, as well as conducive to my creativity.  I have a full library of tips, tricks and dares as well as materials you may want to borrow and try out, and of course, our games... I'm working out the logistics on a beauty right now.  You join us and I will make sure you get to join in." 

Sarah was enthralled, and Kate watched with silent joy at her anticipation, "Do you tie each other up?" 

Anita's face had a tinge of disdain, "I would rather that not take place, but what two adults do in their session is between them.  For me, self-bondage is about the fear, the isolation, the waiting... what limits I can impose and surpass in my technique.  And frankly, despite scheduling my release, the sound of my door opening and the partner finding me in my newest rig and toys always makes me feel like I've just been caught partaking in my forbidden pleasures and I'm theirs for the taking... " Anita closed her eyes for a moment and the two younger women stole giddy glances at each other as they watched Anita slip out of reality for just a moment.  "Sorry... Annabelle was particularly naughty the last time she came over.  I will have to find an appropriate way to thank her."  She drummed her fingers on the counter and her mind returned to business, "The other rules are common sense: don't expose your practices or others to the authorities, and be prepared to take responsibility if you are caught by someone outside our circle.  Keep a locksmith's number handy; the bill goes to the "victim" since it’s their lock.  Oh... and we will need some copies of your house keys..." Kate chirped up, "I already have one!"  Anita continued, "Give them to me and I will make sure the others get them, and I will get you a ring of their keys.  We hold ourselves to the highest standards and would never do anything to hurt your trust.  You're important to us now, and we want to be important to you, Sarah.  You're a rare find and we need to stick together.  If you don't have any other questions, I hope you're willing to consider our proposal." 

Sarah took turns looking at the two women as a grin beamed; her head softly nodded her assent, "I do have one question for you, Anita.  How do I know you're as dedicated as Kate?  She was the 'sacrifice', as you say.  How do I know you are not just some figure head, enjoying watching others suffer rather than indulge yourself..."  Anita's face gave a pleasured expression, a sudden wantonness, and she turned the corner and disappeared into the bedroom.  She emerged a minute later without a stitch of clothing from head to foot; an array of cloth and metal in her hands and a pair of clover clamps dancing seductively on the pale tips of her 36B breasts.  She placed a key into Kate's hand, "Go get dressed, and you two go out and get some breakfast, shop a little, see a movie… take your time.  I'm going to work a few things out." 

She fed her panties into her mouth and ran her stocking between her teeth, tying a firm knot behind her head to seal the cleave, then pulled her other stocking down over her head, effectively sealing the whole gag in place and obscuring her vision under a form fitting hood.  She stepped to the corner of the living room, ran a pair of ankle shackles around the riser pipe standing just inches away from the wall.  She knelt down, letting her feet straddle the pipe, and reached back to each side, using a single hand to click the ratchets shut around her ankles.  Sarah stood in her robe, mouth agape at Anita's quick work and unashamed attitude; Kate stood there still naked, shooting a nervous, coy smile at the red head soon to be chained to her friend's plumbing.  Anita snapped a cuff around her wrist and reached behind the pipe and slowly let the other one slip in place, indulging in each loud click.  She tested the bindings and twisted to one side to show off the shining bondage jewelry to the two novices. 

Sarah's expression didn't change as she realized the woman she met an hour ago was now naked and chained on her knees in the corner of her living room, fully expecting the two of them to go out and leave here there to bask in her self imprisonment.  She couldn’t begin to imagine what twisted tasks she had willingly performed on herself if this was what she could do on a simple dare.  Sarah’s mind was flying through the sea of endless possibilities this woman offered, and she felt a little overwhelmed.  A tap on her arm brought her back down and she turned to Kate, soothing her stunned friend, "She’ll be fine.  She’s certainly not going any place, and now it’s you in charge.” 

Sarah ogled the bound woman and smiled at the thought of the tables being turned, even if none of it was really her doing.  Anita squirmed in her cuffs and let out a little moan.  Kate chimed in happily, “C'mon... let's go get pancakes!'


If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
selfbondage stories