Gromet's PlazaSelf Bondage Stories

The Merry-Go-Round

by Zack

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© Copyright 2008 - Zack - Used by permission

Storycodes: Sbf; outdoors; stuck; caught; M/f; bond; bdsm; rom; hum; cons/reluct; X

I was reading on my front porch when I heard the letter carrier's old car stop at my mailbox. I looked up from my book and felt a surge of hope. Maybe a letter from Bob had arrived at last! I hadn't heard from him for so long! The only things about the city I really miss out here on the farm are the Internet and e-mail. I ran down the long gravel driveway to the mailbox and eagerly opened it. Yes! there was a letter, and it was from him! I tore open the envelope, extracted the single page of lined notebook paper, and read the hand-written words.

Dear Susan,

This is hard for me to say, (and I suppose I should tell you in person), but I think it would be better for both of us if we called off our engagement. It is clear to me that our lifestyles just don't match up. I'm a city boy and you're a country girl. I know how much you love living in your Grandma's old house, but that's not for me. I just can't live like that. Omaha has many of the problems of urban life, but I enjoy it. I realize you inherited enough money to support us both, but without the challenges of my work I'd grow stale and bored. You have to be careful it doesn't happen to you! During my last visit I noticed you had let yourself go both mentally and physically, and I'm afraid the same would happen to me if I vegetated out there in the sticks.

Also, I'm not comfortable with your rope kink. There's nothing wrong with it, and I'm not being judgmental, but tying you up just doesn't do anything for me.

I still regard you affectionately, and I hope you have a good life.

Sincerely, Bob

When I read the first sentence I was so shocked that the world went dark and I had to clutch the mailbox to keep from falling over. When my vision cleared I frantically read the letter several times, hoping irrationally that the words would change. When it finally struck home that the love of my life (and my only lover) had rejected me I broke down and sobbed uncontrollably, standing there beside the road with the crumpled letter in my hand.

"Hey! Are you OK?"

I looked up. I wiped my eyes and recognized Jason, the kid who lives on the farm across the road. He wasn't bad looking, tall and with a farm boy's muscles, but his unruly blond hair and perpetually sunburned face made him look immature, even though he was twenty one, just two years younger than I.

I managed to answer, "Yeah, I'm OK, Jason."

"You sure? You were crying for a long time. Did someone die?"

"No, I just got some bad news, that's all."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"No. Go away. There's nothing you can do for me." Nobody can do anything for me. I turned my back on Jason and hurried up the drive to the house. Halfway there I noticed I still had the letter in my hand and I paused to rip it up and scatter the pieces.

When I got back inside I collapsed on my bed and wept. "It's not fair!" I mumbled into my pillow. "I'm always being abandoned by everyone I love." My parents had been killed in a car crash when I was in the third grade, and I had been raised by my grandparents.

I cried for a long time, feeling more and more sorry for myself. "I should have seen this coming. How could I have been so stupid? I guess that's what happens when you grow up by yourself. I wish I had gone to high school with the other kids. Maybe then I wouldn't be such a dork." My grandfather died when I was in the eighth grade, and Grandma had home-schooled me after that. I had a hard time persuading her to let me attend ISU because I would have to live on campus.

I remembered what it had been like at college. Most of my time was spent studying, and I didn't have much of a social life. Bob was the first man who ever paid any serious attention to me, and I had fallen hard. We lived together for over three years, and planned to marry. Then about a month before I graduated Grandma was diagnosed with incurable liver cancer. So after I got my degree in mechanical engineering I returned to the farm to take care of her instead of getting a job. Bob found work in Omaha and we agreed to postpone our marriage. Grandma really needed me. She wasn't expected to live for more than a few months, and I couldn't even think about a wedding while I cared for her.

I was desolated when Grandma died five months later, in spite of knowing it was inevitable. Bob and I exchanged calls and letters frequently and he visited me a few times. We still talked about getting married soon, but never actually set a date.

Bob's last visit was a month ago. He seemed different, and I should have paid more attention. All Bob talked about was how interesting and challenging his job was, and about his new friends. "How could I have been so oblivious?" I screamed. "Looking back, it's obvious he thought his new friends were much more sophisticated than Susan the country bumpkin, even if he never actually said so." I pounded the pillow. "And how could I have missed the meaning of his evasive answers when I suggested we live on the farm after we married? I've been so stupid! The signs that we were growing apart were so clear."

I wanted to stay in bed forever, but my full bladder finally forced me to get up. I headed for the bathroom, pausing to snag a Snickers from the carton I keep stashed under my bed. While I was on the toilet I smelled my armpit and winced. "Whew! I really need a shower. How long has it been? I can't remember." I stripped and got into the shower, and when I finished I felt a lot better. After toweling myself dry I munched on the candy bar and pondered the contents of The Letter, which had been indelibly seared, seared into my memory.

"Bob's got a lot of nerve!" I muttered angrily. "Where does he get off saying, 'vegetate out in the sticks'? And I have not 'let myself go'." I moved in front of the full-length mirror on the bathroom door and contemplated my naked body. I saw my long dark-brown hair, my 5' 5" height, my high firm breasts, my semi-pretty face with its brown eyes. I also saw the roll of fat around my middle, my flabby thighs and butt, my wide hips. I groaned, "Bob was right. I have let myself go. When was the last time I exercised? What I have I done with my mind? Nothing, except read trashy novels."

"I'm going to shape up!" I vowed. "I'm going on a diet. I'm going to work out regularly." Then I reflexively took another bite of the candy bar. I looked at my image with disgust. "Who am I kidding", I moaned. "I have the willpower of a three-year-old. I'll never do anything like that unless I'm forced to do it." I paused to consider what I just said. "Hey, that's an idea! I bet I could combine forced exercise with self bondage. Improvement and orgasm, all in one package!"

I had a plan! I hurried to my desk and grabbed up pencil and paper. "What kind of exercise?" I muttered, "Nothing too strenuous, at least not at the start. Walking would probably be best. And to regulate it I could make something like the walkers horse trainers use." I sketched out a metal arm revolving around a vertical post. "This should work. But where do I set it up?" I went out the back door of the farmhouse and into the yard. I giggled when I realized I was still naked. But this didn't bother me, because I have plenty of privacy with all the trees and the fence.

When my grandfather died Grandma leased out all of the farmland except for a few acres around the house and barn. This homestead is surrounded by a thick windbreak, three rows of spruce trees planted in the '50s, which now form a screen that completely blocks any view into the yard. Grandma felt insecure when she was living alone while I was at college, so she installed a 12-foot chain link fence, with razor wire at the top, all around the outside of the windbreak. I usually left the driveway gate open, but if it were closed and locked casual visitors would be very unlikely.

I surveyed the yard. The barn was about a hundred and fifty feet from the house. The barn and the equipment shed formed adjacent sides of a square about ninety feet on a side. This square was paved with crushed granite, and in the middle was a large steel pole that supported a light. I examined the pole carefully. It was six inches in diameter and set in concrete. I muttered, "This should do it. And the electrical power is already available. I'm going to need that for my computer." I stood there naked and lost in thought as my mind made and modified elaborate designs.

The next days were busy ones as I built the equipment I designed. Grandfather had never thrown anything away, and the barn and the old equipment shed were stuffed with parts and materials, as well as all of the tools needed on a working farm. In a flurry of sawing, drilling, and welding, I built and installed a steel arm, the main part of my design. It was thirty feet long, made from pipe and angle iron, and attached to the light pole with brackets that allowed it to rotate freely, but only in one direction. At the outer end was a canvas awning to provide shelter from the sun and rain. There was also a shelf to hold books and a blanket. About ten feet from the end was a covered shelf for my laptop computer. The only parts that were difficult to fabricate were the slip rings that transmitted AC power to the laptop charger.

I was proudest of the mechanism I designed to dispense food. Every time the arm completed a rotation it advanced a gear train one tooth, and after a number of revolutions set by the gear ratios the mechanism doled out a measured quantity of the trail mix that I had chosen as my food supply. The trail mix was held in a large, upside-down jar at the top of the machine, and the mechanism first filled a measuring cup and then emptied it. From the cup the trail mix cascaded down an old rain gutter and collected in a washbasin attached to the end of the arm. I would have to lick up my food from this basin, like an animal. "Bondage and humiliation", I said, "what a combination." I planned it so I would get one ration of trail mix each day, giving me about 500 calories.

"What about the restraints?" I mused. "They can't be too restrictive, not for long-time bondage, and neither can they cause any chafing or circulation problems. Leather and chain, that's the way to go." I rummaged in the barn until I found a two inch wide, heavy leather strap. I used this to make wrist cuffs. I wrapped the strap around a wrist, cut it so there was an overlap of about an inch, and punched two holes near the end of the overlap. Next I marked these hole locations on the other end of the strap and punched two more holes. Now I took a nylon zip tie and looped it through all four holes. This left enough slack to allow me to slip my hand through the cuff, and when I pulled the end of the zip tie the holes lined up and the cuff tightened firmly around my wrist. "That does it," I exulted. "No buckles to come undone, no bolts to come loose. The only way to get the cuff off is to cut the zip tie."

"Now for the rest of the bondage. This chain should do it." I wrapped a medium-weight chain around my waist and padlocked it. There was about five feet of chain between its end and the padlock. I rotated the chain so the lock was in the back and held my wrists against it in front. I fingered my clit. "This'll do it. All the important parts are in reach, but I won't be able to interfere with the mechanism." I had welded a ring to the end of the arm, and I padlocked the free end of the chain to it. I walked forward and the chain around my waist pulled the arm after me. "Perfect. The friction is low enough that I won't need to pad the chain around my waist. Now, can I get loose?" The arm height was such that the ring was just below my waist, so I would have no trouble unlocking the padlock with my cuffed hands.

Once I had the basics completed I took care of the details. I dug a short, narrow latrine trench. It was outside the path I'd be walking on, but close enough that I could reach it. I practiced squatting at the end of my chain. I grumped, "This might be messy. There's no way I can wipe, that's for sure. I'll have to be bare from at least the waist down. I really need that awning. Without it, my alabaster body will fry in the sun."

For a water supply I used an old self-filling dog dish. I connected this to a hose and made sure the float valve still worked. To keep the bugs out I covered the dish with a plastic bowl turned upside down and sealed in place with tape. I drilled a hole in the bowl and stuck in a plastic tube so I could suck up water from a kneeling position. I found an old canvas army cot and set it up near the water dish.

Once I fixed up everything outside I went back to my desk. I pondered, "So much for the hardware. What about the software? How far do I want to go, and how fast? Let's see, my normal walking pace is about two and a half miles per hour, and if I walk ten hours, that's twenty five miles a day. I should be able to do that for two days. Fifty miles is a good number. If I do one session a week I should be in shape before the end of summer." I determined the gear ratios for the feeder mechanism and put the correct gears (taken from an old transmission) into it.

I decided to have five two-hour intervals of walking with half-hour rest periods separating them. I wrote a simple program to time the intervals and voice the appropriate commands; 'Rest', 'Move', etc. I digitally distorted my voice so the commands sounded harsh and demanding.

"Ok, Susan", I said, "you've got commands. But why do you think you'll obey them? You need some incentive." I thought about this for a while. I considered some sort of automatic whip, but I ruled it out as too complex and too easy to jam unless I was tied up tightly enough that I couldn't get to it. Then I remembered Grandma had once trained a dog using a shock collar. This had a remote control that allowed a dog to be immediately disciplined for disobedience, such as not coming when called. "OK, a shock collar. Would that work?" I rummaged around in the cellar until I found the old collar and the remote. The collar had a built-in battery that had died long ago. I replaced it with an external battery.

"Now to test it. What's the most sensitive part of my body?" I giggled. "The next most sensitive." I was wearing a loose tee shirt and no bra. I held the collar under my shirt so the electrodes were touching my left breast, one on each side of my nipple, and triggered the collar. "YEOW! That really hurts!" I rubbed my breast. "The dog never reacted like that. I guess all that hair on its neck blocks some of the charge." I checked the old battery from the collar and saw that it had a lower voltage than my battery. That would make a difference in the shock voltage, too. I muttered, "If intense pain is an incentive this is a very good incentive."

I modified the remote so it was powered and controlled by my laptop's USB port. I dismantled the collar and put the working parts and the new battery into a short length of plastic pipe. I found some wide pieces of leather and used them and the leftover cuff strap leather to make a bra. I riveted the pipe with the shock gear to the bra so it nestled between my breasts. The electrodes were replaced with two wires that were fastened to the bra so that their bare ends were fixed next to my left nipple. I punched holes in the bra cups so my nipples protruded. Like the cuffs, the bra straps were held closed by zip ties, and the shoulder straps crossed so the bra couldn't be shrugged off. Having my nipples poking out like this was really going to discourage me from trying to rub it off. I had a momentary qualm about all this, but it was overpowered by a wave of arousal as I thought about how helpless I would be.

I had installed switches on the walker arm so the computer could detect each rotation. I made some calculations. "At two and a half miles an hour each revolution takes about 51 seconds. Suppose I have a fifteen-second grace period?" I wrote a subprogram that started a fifteen second count if a rotation of the arm wasn't detected every 51 seconds. Once the fifteen second cycle started its count was added to a random number, and if the sum exceeded a threshold the shock was triggered. I experimented until the threshold was set so there was a 10% chance that the shock would occur within 2 seconds and a 5% chance it wouldn't occur at all, but instead just start a new cycle. Once a revolution was detected the shock cycle stopped and a new 51 second countdown started. I thought, "The uncertainty should make this very interesting. And it needs some verbal signals." I programmed it so the computer commanded, 'Faster, slave' when the shock cycle started, and there was a loud, whip-like CRACK when the shock was triggered.

Once I was done I thoroughly tested the system. Everything worked perfectly.

* * *

Today was the day I'd start creating the new Susan! I was up before dawn and the first thing I did was close and lock the front gate. I didn't worry about the mail, because I never get any. My accountant handles all of the bills and business stuff. I have no friends or family.

I placed a long ladder against the light pole and climbed to the top of my mechanism. There was a wire bracket there and I put a key ring holding a padlock key on it. Once I completed my fifty miles the last gear in the train would have made one rotation. Then an arm on the gear released the bracket so the key ring would fall into a short piece of inclined gutter, and from there into the food gutter and so into the basin, where I could pick it up with my teeth.

I put away the ladder and went onto the back porch and stripped. I put on socks, my hiking boots, and the leather bra with the shock stuff. I made sure each cuff had a D-ring and put my hands inside the cuffs. I pulled the cuff zip ties tight and cut off the excess. I tested the cuffs and they were snug on my wrists. I wrapped the chain around my waist, padlocked it, and rotated the chain so the lock was behind my back. Using two padlocks, I locked the cuff D-rings to the waist chain, in front of my body and as far apart as I could comfortably reach.

I left all of the keys on the porch and went over to the walker, carrying the open padlock that matched the key I placed at the top of the mechanism. Yes, I had checked very carefully that the key would open this padlock!

Before I locked myself to the ring at the end of the walker arm I started the laptop. It was a little awkward, but I could reach the keyboard and touchpad, and I booted up the program. There was a 'test shock' hotkey and I pushed it.

ZOWIE! The pain was intense. I didn't remember it being this bad. It was more like a cattle prod than anything else. (Don't ask). I asked myself, "Susan, do you want to go through with this scheme? That shock hurts a lot." I answered myself, "True, but I'm not likely to get shocked often, if at all. All I have to do is walk at an easy pace for a couple of days. I can do that." Reassured, I pressed the 'start' hotkey and padlocked the end of my waist chain to the ring on the end of the walker arm.

I was eager to start. Then an alarm clock rang. I had forgotten that the program would sound an alarm to wake me in the morning fifteen minutes before the first walk cycle started. The sun was just coming up and it looked like it was going to be a nice day. The three-day weather forecast predicted scattered thunderstorms, not unusual for mid-May in the midwest, and daytime temperatures that were warm but not blazingly hot. I fidgeted while I waited out the fifteen minutes.

MOVE! I was startled when the program blared this command, but I quickly leaned into the chain and started walking. The arm smoothly followed. A metal wheel from an old wheelbarrow supports the end of the arm, and it made a quiet crunching sound as it rolled over the hard-packed gravel.

I walked for a while to check that everything was working properly. When I was sure it was I drifted off into fantasy land. I was a captive Trojan maiden. A handsome warrior had selected me as his share of the loot from the fallen city. Now I was being marched to the ship that would carry me away to a life of sexual slavery in Greece. Helplessly bound, I struggled against the cuffs on my wrists and pulled on the chain so it cut into my waist, but there was no escape. My hand went to my crotch and fingered my clit. I lost track of everything except the sensations centered between my legs. I closed my eyes and moaned as I neared climax...

FASTER, SLAVE! The command wrenched me out of my fantasy and I started to run, hoping to complete a revolution before the shock was triggered. CRACK! Too late! I screamed as pain shot through my breast. I slowed to a walk and muttered, "Well that was fun, not!. I better hold off on my fantasies until the rest period. Or else learn to enjoy pain."

I concentrated on walking for the rest of the first two-hour session. When the computer said REST I quickly lay down on the cot. "Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, captive maiden, handsome warrior, helpless in bondage." I struggled against the cuffs, and my fingers resumed their task in my crotch. And this time I wasn't interrupted.

MOVE! Rest period was over, not that I got a lot of rest. I started walking again, and after a while I was bored. This wasn't at all like a hike in the mountains, where there were birds and flowers and a trail winding through pretty scenery. This was just round and round, a merry-go-round going nowhere. I tried to think about technical problems, how I would redesign this machine, what other exercise equipment I could make. I managed to keep my mind occupied until the next rest period.

I was tired. I had walked ten miles. I tried to think erotic thoughts, but I wasn't really interested. I had just about orgasmed myself out during the last rest period. I rested.

All too soon the MOVE! sounded. I got up with a groan and started walking. I needed to keep myself distracted. I didn't dare drift off into fantasy land, so I tried to occupy my mind with other thoughts, such as my growing hated of Bob, that rat, and the loathsomeness of men in general. This led to brooding about how alone I was, and the bleak prospects of finding any companionship. Before I knew it I was crying. "Oh stop whimpering", I muttered. "You chose this life. If you wanted to be in a crowd you should have moved to a city."

The pep talk didn't exactly cheer me up, but it distracted me from my emotional distress and let me notice my physical distress. I was getting tired. My feet seemed to be OK, but my legs were dragging. There was a pain in my back. My natural pace was slowing, so I had to consciously work at completing a revolution in the required time. I was very hungry. The next two hours seemed to last forever, and when the rest period started I collapsed on the cot.

So it went for the rest of the day. I heard the 'Faster, slave!' warning several times, but I always managed to speed up enough to avoid the shock. I was so hungry my stomach hurt, and I yelped with joy when the feeder mechanism released the trail mix into the basin. The computer wasn't sync'd to it though, so I had to make six more revolutions before the blessed STOP command. I bent over the basin and gobbled up the food as fast as my tongue could move.

I was very tired. I hadn't realized I was so far out of shape. One summer Bob and I had gone backpacking in the Rocky Mountains, and I had easily walked over twenty miles a day, up and down mountains, while carrying a pack. Now just going around in a circle on level ground left me exhausted.

It was still several hours until sunset, but, tired as I was, I wasn't ready to sleep. I had some technical magazines in a plastic sack on the shelf fastened to the end of the arm and I dug one out. I lay on my back on the cot and used the blanket as a pillow. I could hold the magazine so I could read it, although turning the pages was awkward. I tried to concentrate on my reading, but my tired legs and aching stomach distracted me.

When it got dark the sodium light on the pole came on automatically. This disturbed a couple of birds that had been roosting on it and they noisily flapped away. I considered removing my boots, but it was a struggle to reach the laces and I didn't want to risk not being able to retie them. I moved the cot under the awning so the light wouldn't shine in my eyes and spread out the blanket. With great difficulty I inched my way under it. I used the sack of magazines as a pillow and tried to relax. I struggled against the cuffs and worked myself into another orgasm. Then I fell asleep.

When the alarm woke me the next morning I was so stiff I could barely move. I did some stretching exercises and somehow managed to get my legs to work. I was just able to squat over the latrine without falling in. My crotch was sticky, and the only way I could wash it was to suck up mouthfuls of water and spit them down my front. Not a dignified way to start the day.

This day was a repeat of yesterday. Hours of trudging around in a circle interrupted by all-too-brief rest periods. The 'Faster, slave' warnings happened more frequently today, and twice I was shocked. The shocks hurt more, and I worried they were eroding the skin on my breast.

Finally the end of my ordeal was near. The trail mix cascaded down the gutter and into the basin. I looked up at the brass padlock key glittering in the afternoon sun. Suddenly, one of the birds roosting on the light flew down, grabbed the key in its beak, and flew away.

I was stunned. I staggered on autopilot until I heard the STOP command, and then I collapsed on the cot and wept.

I cried for a long time. Eventually I stopped, except for an occasional sniffle. My face was a mess, covered with tears and snot, and I couldn't fix it. This was a minor problem. I sat up and tried to evaluate my true plight. First the recriminations. "How could I have been so arrogant! I had a perfect design, nothing could go wrong! I never even considered a safety backup, or a second release method."

"OK, Susan," I muttered. "You're in trouble. Now how are you going to get out? Can you get loose?" I examined the padlock that connected me to the arm. It was a good-quality, pin-tumbler lock. I might have been able to pick it if I had the tools, but there wasn't even a twig within reach. The other padlocks were just as secure, with the added disadvantage of being inaccessible as long as my hands were cuffed. I struggled with the cuffs, but they were as snug as ever. I had carefully smoothed out all of the rough spots on the arm, so there wasn't any place to abrade the leather.

What about somebody finding me? Jason's family was the only one who lived near by, and I had told him in so many words to go away. With the gate locked it wasn't likely he'd be casually knocking on my door. My accountant? The last time I saw him in person was when I signed my tax return, but there were occasions when something came up and he needed to see me. He'd call first, and if I didn't return his call he almost certainly would come out to the farm. If he couldn't get in he was persistent enough to eventually call the sheriff. Of course, they might find nothing but my skeleton by then.

"Don't be morbid, Susan!", I shouted. "You'll get out of this!" My stomach growled, and I licked the food out of the basin. This prompted me to take a close look at the food jar. I estimated there was one to two week's worth of trail mix left. I had water, so I could last another month or so after that. The prospect of being chained out here for that long was very unpleasant, but not necessarily fatal.

For quite a while I lay on my cot, my mind churning, but I was so tired that eventually I fell asleep. The next morning I was awakened by the alarm. "Oh, shit!", I exclaimed. "The program doesn't shut off automatically. That means the damned shock is still active." I knew that I would have to keep walking to get the food, but I was not happy to be forced to keep up the pace or be shocked. I hurried to get ready before I had to start walking.

The following days passed in a blur. All I thought about was rescue, and moving fast enough to avoid a shock. I was so worried and upset that I wasn't even tempted to engage in erotic activity. My only measure of time was the declining level of food in the jar. One evening I got only a trickle of trail mix, and I knew my time was running out. I tried to keep my hopes up, but I was very, very frightened.

The next day I had almost completed the first two hours of walking when I heard an airplane engine. I looked around the edge of the awning and saw a small, single engine plane almost directly overhead. Judging by the size it was at least a mile up, so there was no way the pilot could see me. My flare of hope died out. Just after the rest period started I heard the plane again. It was coming from the other direction and seemed to be a bit lower. Hope flared anew. What was the ground-to-air distress signal? I know! Lie on the ground with arms and legs outstretched. I couldn't stretch out my arms, but I did spread my legs.

The plane continued on without so much as waggling a wing. I was crushed and started to cry. Hope dashed is worse than no hope at all. I sobbed on the cot until I got the MOVE! command, and then I stumbled to my feet and continued my death march.

"Hi, Suzi. You seem to be in a bit of a fix."

Astonished, I stopped and looked up. "Jason! How did you get here?"

"I climbed over the fence. What's going on? You do this to yourself?"

"Yes. I needed to diet and exercise and to force myself to do it I built this walker. But I got stuck, and I've been here for days and days. It's a long story. How did you know I was here, and in trouble?"

"I hadn't seen you for a couple of weeks and I was worried. I didn't think you'd gone anywhere, because your car is in the driveway. So I got out my old RC model plane. It has a downlinked video camera, and I flew it over your house to try to spot you. When I saw your signal I knew you were in trouble so I got a ladder and climbed the fence. I had to cut some of the razor wire, sorry."

"That's quite all right. Oh. Jason, I thought I was going to die." I started to cry.

FASTER, SLAVE! I jerked and started to run. CRACK! I screamed and shouted, "Quick, Jason, stop the program! My laptop is on that shelf."

Jason hurried to the laptop. "Let's see, 'Stop'. Got it. Hey, what's this 'test shock' button for?"

CRACK! I screamed again. "Don't touch it! I get a shock on my breast. It really hurts." I cried some more.

Jason took me in his arms and kissed me. "It's OK, you're safe now."

I kissed him back. "I was so scared. You saved my life, Jason."

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" Jason looked thoughtful. "I suppose that means I own you now."

"What! You can't own somebody. Stop joking and get me loose."

"I don't mean I have a legal title, but morally you now belong to me. But it's a great deal for both of us! I've got lots of ideas for inventions, and you have the math and technical skills to help me develop them. I'm almost broke, and you've got enough money to support both of us. And best of all, I like to tie up girls, and you like to be tied up."

I blurted, "What makes you think I like to be tied up?" I knew I'd said a stupid thing as soon as the words were out of my mouth, and I blushed with embarrassment.

Jason laughed, "Why do I think that? I guess one hint might be that you chained yourself up out here. I also remember when we were kids. I must have tied you up once or twice a week."

"Yeah, until the time Grandma came into the barn and found me hogtied. Then you were banished forever. How old were we then?"

"I was eleven and you were thirteen."

"That sounds about right. I always suspected that Grandma knew all along what we were doing and only put a stop to it when I entered puberty."

"Yeah, those were fun times." Jason rubbed his hands together. "So it's all settled! I'll move in right away."

"Not so fast, Jason! I don't want you to take over my life. And tie-up games are fun when you're a kid, but we're adults now. Please let me loose! I'm literally starving, I need a shower, and I haven't had my boots off for weeks. The keys are on the back porch."

To my immense relief Jason got the keys from the porch. He came back and sorted through them until he found the one for the lock that held the waist chain to the walker arm. He unlocked it, but instead of releasing the other locks he put the chain between my legs and used it as a leash to drag me toward the house. "What are you doing?" I shouted.

"Just what you want. I'm taking you to the house so you can eat and get cleaned up."

"Let me go! Get this chain off me!"

"Not just yet."

We continued on to the house and into the kitchen, with me struggling all the way, or as much struggling as I could do with the chain digging into my crotch. Jason opened the refrigerator. "There's nothing in here but half a quart of sour milk. What do you eat?"

"There're pizzas and stuff like that in the freezer."

"That's a rotten diet. You need fresh vegetables, whole grains, all the healthy foods."

"Wonderful! I'm the prisoner of a food nazi. I don't like vegetables!"

"You really do need somebody to run your life. Outside!" Jason pulled me out onto the porch and locked the chain around the railing.

"I'm going to my place to get some decent food. Where's the key to the front gate?"

"On the key rack in the hall. Please let me loose. I'm so tired of being chained up."

"I'll release you in a little while. I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere."

I shouted after him, "That joke stopped being funny when I was ten!"

With Jason gone I had a chance to calmly decide what I wanted to do. I may like being tied up occasionally, but I'm not a submissive, and I don't want to be anybody's slave, especially a man's. I didn't want anything to do with men. One betrayal and the associated heartbreak was enough. If it hadn't been for Bob, that rat, I would have never ended up chained to the walker. I muttered, "Nothing personal, Jason, but I've had enough of men. From now on I'll get all of my sexual excitement from a vibrator." On the other hand, he did save my life, and I couldn't pretend I didn't owe him, big time.

I managed to get a leg over the chain so I could sit down. Jason returned in about ten minutes, carrying a plastic bag. "OK, Suzi, here's enough for breakfast. I'll have to go shopping later. Let's go inside and get you fed." He unlocked the chain from the railing and we entered the kitchen.

"At last! Now will you please, please let me loose?"

"Sure. But you do look cute like that." Jason unlocked the padlocks and I let the chain fall to the floor.

I stretched my arms over my head. They were stiff, but I had exercised them as much as I could, so it wasn't too bad. "How about removing these cuffs? And the bra, too. I want to see how much damage the shocks caused."

"OK." Jason got the kitchen shears and cut the zip ties holding the leather straps in place. I anxiously examined my left breast. There were red marks, but the skin didn't seem to be permanently damaged. I rubbed my wrists. There were pale bands of untanned skin where the cuffs had been.

I was now totally nude except for my boots and I was suddenly uneasy about it. "I'm going to get my robe from the bedroom." I started to leave the kitchen and Jason quickly grabbed my arm.

"I'll go with you, Suzi." We entered the bedroom and Jason had a look around while I was getting my robe from the closet.

Jason took my cell phone off the dresser and put it in his pocket. "Hah! Look what else I found!" Jason held up the carton of Snickers. "You won't need these, Suzi. They're bad for you."

"I don't care! I like them. I told you Jason, I don't want you to run my life!"

"Let's go to the kitchen. I'll make you breakfast and we can discuss it."

"OK, OK, I'll do anything for some food."

I sat at the kitchen table while Jason cooked. "All right, Jason. I know I owe you. I'll give you some money and I'll help you with your inventions. I may even let you tie me up once or twice. But I won't be your slave and you can't live here."

"That's not an unreasonable position, Suzi. But I cannot agree. When I saved your life I took on a responsibility for it, and I wouldn't be doing my duty if I let you go on with the way you've been living. You don't eat right, you don't exercise enough, and you do stupid things like chaining yourself up without a backup. I cannot take proper care of you unless I supervise you 24/7, so I'll have to live here."

"How can you say that with a straight face!" I shouted. "That's a load of sanctimonious crap, and you know it. And my name is Susan. I haven't been Suzi since I was a child."

Jason smirked, "There, there, Suzi. Calm down. I know you're upset, but what I want is best for you, and you'll realize it yourself if you think about it."

I was seething. "Don't patronize me, you, you...." Jason put the food on the table, and I interrupted my rant. I was too hungry to argue.

Jason had prepared one fried egg and a small bowl of oatmeal. "Is this all I get?" I asked.

"You have to start off slow. Your stomach has shrunk. If you eat too much at once it'll make you sick. You can have more at lunchtime."

OK, that was plausible. "Where's the sugar for the oatmeal?"

"Sugar's bad for you. I put some raisins in the oatmeal. That's all you need."

I decided not to argue. I made the food disappear. It was delicious. "Thanks for the food, Jason. I'm going to shower now."

"OK, I'll clean up the kitchen and make a list of what we need from Walmart."

I went in the direction of the bathroom, but instead of getting into the shower I snuck down the hall and out the front door. Jason's parents are very religious, and they wouldn't approve of Jason keeping me as his sex slave. Once I got to their house he would have to stop this nonsense.

That rat locked the front gate! I had been sure he would've left it open. Jason said he cut the razor wire to get in. But where? I ran along the fence, looking for the place where the wire was cut. I didn't find it this way so I retraced my steps. I saw the ladder at the other end of the front yard and ran toward it. The front door slammed, and there was Jason! I shrieked and tried to hide in the windbreak trees, but Jason tracked me down and dragged me back toward the house. I managed to break loose, but he tackled me on the front lawn.

I struggled desperately. Jason turned me face down and knelt across my butt. He pulled my left hand behind my back and a zip tie tightened around my wrist. I felt him slip another tie thorough the one already around my wrist and close the loop. He grabbed my right wrist. I fought to keep him from bringing my hands together, but he was too strong for me, and he easily put my hand through the loop and zipped it tight.

Jason rolled me over onto my back. He was kneeling across my body with his knees next to my hips. My robe had come undone in the struggle and I was effectively naked. Jason's hard-on strained to escape from his pants. I tried to be calm. "Are you going to rape me now?" I asked.

Jason got up and pulled me to my feet. "I'll never rape you, Susan. Not now, not ever." He kissed me.

"You could have fooled me. I'm bare and I'm helpless. What's stopping you? Just because people on the road could see us?"

"Let's go into the house. We need to talk."

I struggled against the nylon binding my wrists. "I can't stop you. You just happened to have these ties with you, I suppose?"

Jason laughed. "Well, I did tell you I like to tie up girls. Be prepared, that's my motto."

"You don't act much like a Boy Scout." He took my arm and led me into the house. I didn't resist. What would be the point?

Jason pushed me into a kitchen chair. The chain was still on the floor. He wrapped it around my waist and the chair back and padlocked it. "OK, Suzi, now we can talk. First of all, I was serious when I said I wouldn't rape you. I promise not to penetrate any orifice unless you ask me to."

"Some guarantee that is. I'm helpless and in your power. You could torture me until I said anything you wanted me to say."

"You know I'd never do that. I won't hurt you unless you need to be disciplined." He was standing behind me and his hands stroked my breasts. "That doesn't mean I won't do everything except penetration."

My nipples, the traitors, started to harden. "So now we're back to the slave thing. Please stop, Jason. I don't want to be your sex toy."

"It's more than that, Suzi. I really care for you. In fact, I've loved you since I was in the seventh grade. You may not believe this, but helping you is all I want, and you do need help. Of course, I'll get some material benefits, like living here and using your money, but I swear to you this is secondary to my concern for your well-being."

"Permit me to say I don't believe you. And even if taking care of me is all you want, I don't need help. I'm a grown-up. I'm a college graduate. I'm not a child. I'll solve my own problems."

"By getting yourself trapped in fatal self-bondage?"

"OK, so I made one little mistake. That could happen to anybody."

"You can't make that kind of mistake more than once. You were very lucky."

I couldn't tell how much of the 'help Susan' stuff was what Jason really believed and how much was just bullshit to rationalize treating me as his sex slave. It didn't really matter. Either way, I was going to be his prisoner. I decided my best plan was to pretend to submit, and then escape when I got a chance. If I fought him he'd keep me tied up all the time.

"OK, Jason. I admit I did a dumb thing, and I admit I don't lead the healthiest lifestyle. You're right, I do need some guidance, for my own good. But when you've 'cured' me, will you let me go back to living my own life?" Did I sound sincere enough to convince him I was surrendering?

"Of course, if that's what you want. Once you have the proper habits you'll be able to live without constant supervision. I'm glad you agree to accept my guidance. What's best for you will be my first consideration."

"If you live here how will you explain it to your parents? They won't like it if you're living in sin."

"Don't you know? My parents sold the farm and my dad got a job in Sioux City, managing a corporate farm. They moved a week ago. I stayed behind to maintain the farm until the new owners arrive, which will be in a couple of days. They're a Manhattan couple who want to 'get back to the land'. I'll be surprised if they last until next spring. I'll tell my folks I took a job as their hired man. They'll believe that."

"So even if I got to your house it wouldn't have done me any good."

"Nope. There's no way you can escape my clutches. Bwwaahahaha." He twirled an imaginary mustache.

"OK, Snidley. How about untying me? I still need a shower."

"Sure, Suzi." He sniffed. "You really do need a shower." He unlocked the chain holding my waist to the chair and I stood up so he could cut off the zip ties.

I rubbed my wrists. "Those zip ties have sharp edges. They left some nasty marks on my wrists."

"I'll only use them if I have to. If you cooperate I'll tie you up with rope."

"You're so considerate. How about not tying me up at all?"

"You know you'd be disappointed if I didn't tie you up. Now go shower. Don't take too long, because I've got to go to town, and I can't leave until you're finished."

"You're going to take me with you?"

"Not exactly. Now git!"

I went into the bathroom and stripped. I took my boots off and nearly gagged. I don't think these socks can be saved. The shower felt so good! I scrubbed off the grime, washed my hair, and then just stood under the water and enjoyed being clean again.

Jason yelled, "Hurry up, or I'll shut off the hot water."

I grumbled, but I got out of the shower and toweled myself dry. My hair was still a snarled mess, but I'd work on it later. I dressed in blue cotton shorts, plain white tee shirt, and canvas shoes. Underneath I wore bikini panties, but no bra.

I found Jason going through my desk. "What are you doing? That's my private stuff."

"I'm checking out your finances. Managing your money is just another part of the service. I'm impressed by how large your income is. We can afford much more ambitious projects. Oh, yeah, one other thing. I'll use your credit card for today's shopping, but I'll need one in my own name. You'll have to write a letter to your accountant."

"I guess I could do that." When Hell freezes over. "Where are we going to shop?"

"I'm going to Walmart. You're staying here."

"I am?" By myself? Oh. "You're going to tie me up, aren't you?"

"You have a gift for the obvious, Suzi. Of course I'm going to tie you up." Jason produced several coils of rope. "See, eighth-inch nylon rope. The same rope we used when we were kids."

I remember that rope. It was hard to tie good knots in it, but if they were done right, and Jason could do it right, it was almost impossible to escape. I resigned myself to the inevitable, turned around, and crossed my wrists behind my back.

"Not like that." Jason turned me around and crossed my wrists in front. He made five turns one way, tied a knot, five turns the other way, another knot, and ended with a three-turn cinch and a final knot that I couldn't easily reach with my teeth. I suspected this wasn't the end of it. I had a lot of practice in escaping, and Jason knew that.

My suspicions were confirmed when he led me outside and put my back against the maple tree that was just behind the house. He took another piece of rope, doubled it, and looped it around my wrists, inside the circle of my arms. He tossed the ends over a branch and pulled until my hands were over my head. He wrapped the ends around the trunk and tied them off. I could tell Jason was in a good mood, because he left my feet flat on the ground.

"I've got to tie you outside like this because I haven't checked out the house for any knives you might have hidden. I remember that was one of your tricks when we were kids." He wrapped three loops around my waist and tied the ends behind the trunk. "This is just to prevent any gymnastics. Once I tied you like this but without the waist rope. You turned around, shinnied up the tree, and untied your hands with your teeth."

"Yeah, I remember. But I was a lot more supple then. I had a better strength/weight ratio, too."

Jason kissed me. "I should be back in a couple of hours. Think pleasant thoughts."

"Here's an unpleasant thought. What if you get killed in a car crash? What happens to me then?"

"If I'm not back by dark you can start rubbing the rope on the tree bark. You should be free by dawn. But don't start before dark. If you do I'll have to punish you. See you later."

And with that he left. I ritually struggled, but not for long. I knew I couldn't escape. I was turned on, as I always am when I'm tied up. My nipples were hard and my pussy was moist. But I didn't push it. With my hands tied like this there is no way I can cum, and I didn't need the frustration. I suppose there are women who can climax without much physical stimulation, but I'm not one of them.

This is the downside of bondage: If you're not getting any sexual action bondage gets boring. I stood there with my back to the tree and nothing to do but think. The big question was, should I let Jason fuck me? I did feel a physical attraction, and I do like sex, so why not? Well, I would be giving up a bargaining chip, trading something for nothing. But the main reason for not having sex was fear, fear that I might become a sex slave, unable to live without it. And besides, my pride demanded that I try to get away. I might escape tomorrow, and Jason would be out of my life. I decided to let events play themselves out.

* * *

"Suzi! I'm home." Jason kissed me and ran his hands over my body. I tried not to respond.

"Yeah, I heard your truck in the drive. You ever gonna fix the muffler on that wreck?"

"It's not a wreck, it's a classic." He felt my hands. "Still warm. Are you OK otherwise?"

"Except for the boredom." Jason is very good at getting the ropes just tight enough to be inescapable, but not tight enough to cut off circulation.

"I'll put the groceries away and then we'll talk. Wait here."

I waited. What else would I do? When Jason returned I asked, "Untie me now?"

"Not yet. Let's talk first. I was thinking about where we should go with our relationship."

"'Go' is the key word. Why don't you?"

Jason laughed. "No chance of that. Like I said, I'm staying here to take care of you. What I'd really like is for us to have an adult relationship."

"That's one where you get to fuck me any time you want?"

"No, no. It would be more than that. We'd live together and share our lives, not just have sex."

"Oh, a relationship like the one I had with Bob, my ex-fiancee. A close, loving relationship that would last forever? Right up to the time I get dumped? No, thanks. One heartbreak per decade is all I can stand. What's Plan B?"

Jason sighed. "OK, then we'll do something else that I've always wanted to do. I've got some scenarios that we can act out. Sort of like live-action roll-playing games where you get tied up a lot. Think SCA, with me as the lord of the manor and you as the serf."

"I told you, I don't want to be your slave!"

"Don't worry! You'd rarely be a slave. You could be a captured princess, or a secret agent on a dangerous mission. You'd get to act in many roles. And the bondage would be different, too. You wouldn't just be hogtied and left to squirm on the barn floor."

"Princess or not, I'd still have to do as you told me, wouldn't I?"

"Well, yeah. A captive has to obey her captor."

"And if she doesn't she gets punished, doesn't she?"

"Sure, but I'd never damage you. Just some minor discomfort."

"You mean your whip wouldn't draw blood, just raise welts? What you describe sounds a lot like slavery."

"But we'd only be pretending! We wouldn't do this day and night. You could do as you pleased most of the time."

"You are going to keep me tied up all the time, aren't you?"

"No, only as much as necessary to keep you from running off. Once you realize what I'm doing is best for you, you'll want to cooperate and you won't feel any need to escape."

I thought about what Jason said. In spite of all his smooth talk I had no illusions about what my status would really be: slave. I didn't like it, but it was probably the best deal I could get. Jason was quite capable of leaving me hogtied in the barn with nothing to do but stare at the floor. I capitulated. "OK, Jason. We'll give it a try. But nothing too brutal, please. I'm not a pain junkie."

Jason kissed me. "Wonderful! We'll have a lot of fun." He untied the rope about my waist and released the rope holding my hands over my head. "Let's eat lunch."

We went into the kitchen and he locked the chain around my waist and a chair. Jason challenged, "Test your old skills, Suzi. See if you can untie your hands before lunch is ready."

I examined the rope around my wrists. Jason had slipped up a bit. I was able to reach the cinch knot with my teeth and work it loose. The next knot was on the bottom of my wrist, but with the cinch unwrapped there was a bit of slack and I could move the knot enough to reach it too. I got it undone and was starting to tackle the final knot when Jason called, "Time! Very good, Suzi. You still have your old skills, even after all these years. Or have you had more recent experience?"

"No, Bob didn't like to tie me up, and when he did he wasn't very good at it. This is just the legacy of a perverted childhood."

"Well, anyway, lunch is ready." He untied my hands, put a plate and bowl on the table, and moved my chair up to them.

The bowl contained a greenish-yellow soup and the plate held a sandwich made with some dark, coarse bread. "What's this stuff in the bowl?"

"Asparagus soup."

I took a bite of the sandwich. Egg salad, and very tasty, but the bread crunched, and it wasn't toasted. "What's in this bread?"

"Whole grains, and some nuts and twigs for flavor. Very healthy. Lots of fiber."

"Yeah, it has the consistency of fiberboard." A dark portent crossed my mind. I hadn't seen any meat at either meal. "You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"Of course not. I didn't claw my way to the top of the food chain just to eat nothing but plants."

"That's a relief. I do like my pound of flesh."

"Two ounces, in your case. You're still on a diet."

I finished my soup and sandwich and didn't bother to ask for seconds. "What do you have planned for me now?"

"Nothing. I've got to move my stuff over here, so once you do the dishes your time's your own."

Jason released the chain holding me to the chair. I stood up and was surprised when he wrapped the end of the chain around my neck and padlocked it. He used this as a leash and led me over to the sink. He padlocked the free end of the chain to a shiny new eyebolt screwed into the ceiling.

Jason swatted my butt. "Get to work. I'll be back soon."

I started to work on the dishes. I didn't mind doing them; it was only fair since Jason prepared the meal. I wouldn't be happy to stand here while he moved, though. I knew from experience how long that could take.

I washed and dried the dishes and put away as many as I could. I suddenly realized I hadn't heard Jason's truck. Where was he?

"Hi, Suzi. Finished?" I nodded. "Good. Put your hands behind your back."

I shrugged and did as he said. Jason wrapped two turns of rope around my wrists and knotted it. What was this? He must know I could escape from casual bondage like this in a few minutes. He unlocked the chain around my neck and guided me out the kitchen door and over to the maple tree. There was a long chain bolted around the trunk. Jason picked up the free end and bolted it around my neck. "Why are you doing this?" I complained. "You said my time would be my own."

"It is, as long as you spend it near this tree." Jason untied my hands. "Your magazines are in that bag, and I moved the lounger so you'll have a comfortable place to sit. I'm going to be busy and I can't be watching you."

"It isn't sporting to bolt the chain around my neck. I don't have a chance of escaping. And what do I do if I need to use the toilet?"

Jason pointed toward the house. "There's some bare dirt in the flower bed. Use that."

"Like a pet cat? Do you also want me to scratch dirt over my scat with my paw? This is demeaning, Jason."

"It's supposed to be, me proud beauty. Soon I'll break your haughty spirit. Bwwaahahaha." He kissed me and left.

I adjusted the lounger so I was seated comfortably with my feet up. I opened a magazine and fell asleep.

I woke up when I felt something on my ankle. It was Jason, with a tape measure. "What are you doing?"

"Just getting some measurements."

"Why do I have a bad feeling about that?" I stretched. "I was really tired. I've been asleep since you left. What time is it?"

"Almost dinner time."

"Get all your moving done?"

"Yeah. I got some other stuff done, too. I bought you a new computer and signed you up for the Internet."

"Internet? You can't get the Internet out here."

"You can now. There's a new fiber-optic cable right along the road. Didn't you notice them putting it in?"

"I guess not. When Grandma was sick I didn't pay much attention to anything around me."

"Another question, Suzi. Do you have any CAD experience?"

"I took a computer-aided design class in college, but I'm not very good at it."

"You're going to need to know it for our projects. I'll buy AutoCAD. I always wanted to learn it, but I couldn't afford a copy."

"All of this stuff you're buying is being charged to my credit card, isn't it?"

"Of course. You're very generous, sweety." Jason took out a couple of wrenches and unbolted the chain around the tree. "Let's go inside." He tugged on the chain around my neck and led me into the kitchen. He padlocked the end of the chain to the eyebolt above the sink.

"Jason, I'm tired of being kept on a leash. Will you free me if I promise not to run away?"

"I wouldn't want to put temptation in your way. The chain is long enough to let you move around the kitchen. I've also installed eyebolts in your bedroom and other places around the house."

"Grrr." I wasn't happy about this, but I couldn't say it was unexpected. Jason got a package of carrots out of the refrigerator and I started peeling them. We worked together preparing dinner and it was very tasty, although I wasn't used to eating a meal that included three different vegetables. (Unless you count anchovies and pepperoni as vegetables).

After dinner we did the dishes; he washed and I dried. I yawned. "When I was walking around the Merry-Go-Round of Death I had to get up at dawn and go to sleep at sunset. I know it's still early but I'm tired. Can I go to bed now?"

"Sure, Suzi. I'll move your chain into the bedroom." Jason unlocked the chain. "Go, ahead, I'll follow you."

"Afraid to turn your back on me, are you? Wise decision. Spartacus is my middle name."

"You know, you could spend another night chained to the walker. Don't press your luck."

I didn't. I meekly proceeded to my bedroom and Jason locked the chain to an eyebolt above the door. I could reach the bathroom from here. He embraced me and we kissed. He left my room and I closed the bedroom door. I undressed and put on my nighty. I noticed that everything in the dresser was slightly disturbed. Jason must have been searching for the mythical knives. I performed the nighttime bathroom rituals and got into bed. In spite of my afternoon nap I fell asleep instantly.

"Suzi! Wake up!"

"Huh? What time is it?" I was still sleepy.

"Seven a.m. I just got a call from the buyers of our farm. They'll be here in about an hour, so I've got to get you fixed up."

I didn't like the sound of that, but in my role as Little Miss Cooperation I got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. Jason disappeared, and soon I smelled bacon cooking. I dressed in the same clothes I wore yesterday. I yelled, "The livestock is ready for transfer to another pen."

Jason wasn't amused. As he fastened my leash to the kitchen eyebolt he muttered, "That'll cost you."

"I'm sorry! I was just trying to inject a little humor into my drab, wretched life. You're awfully grouchy this morning."

"Yeah, it's hard to face the fact that the farm is really going to be sold. I lived there all my life."

I was hungry, so I didn't continue the dialog. Today's breakfast was one fried egg, one bowl of oatmeal, and one strip of bacon. OK, I did need to lose weight. I slurped up the food.

Jason dropped my hiking boots and a pair of socks in front of me. He ordered, "Take off your shorts and panties and put on your boots."

"What for?"

"Because I told you to. You may not know it, but the Internet is a convenient way to order a lot of specialty items, such as ball gags. Keep mouthing off and I'll demonstrate."

I didn't want to have a confrontation so early in the morning so I did as Jason bid. "OK, boots on, panties off. I wonder why being bare around you doesn't bother me as much as it should."

"That's because of your subconscious desire to have sex with me. Hold out your hands."

I did, and Jason zip tied the leather cuffs onto my wrists. He wrapped the short chain around my waist and padlocked it in back. I held my hands against the chain in front.

He commanded, "Hands behind your back." He locked the cuff D-rings together and to the chain around my waist. Only then did he unbolt the chain around my neck. I must have got to him with that Spartacus crack.

He put the chain between my legs and dragged me out the door and into the yard. I protested, "It's really humiliating to be pulled around like this."

"Good. You need more humility."

Jason was leading me over to the walker. I begged, "No, please, Jason. Not the walker. It's evil."

Jason put the end of the chain behind me and locked it to the ring on the walker arm. "It's just a machine, Suzi. Stop being melodramatic. I'm going to be busy and I can't supervise your exercise. You did a good job designing this machine and I'm going to use it." He adjusted the laptop position so I could see the screen. '300' and '5:00:00' were displayed in large numbers.

"I reprogrammed the computer to keep track of the number of revolutions and the remaining time. You can set your own pace, as long as you get the revolutions to zero before the five hours are up. The countdown stops then. You aren't wearing the shock bra because I prefer to punish you personally. For every uncompleted revolution you get one stroke from my belt." Jason punched a key and the '300' changed to '350'. "That's for your lack of subservience." He punched another key and the time display started counting down.

"Jason, you're being cruel!"

Jason cupped my breasts and squeezed my hard nipples. He probed my slit and displayed his moist finger. "Cruel? You seem to be enjoying it. The clock's running, so you better get moving. And I'm not kidding about the beating. See you later."

OK, bondage turns me on. That doesn't mean Jason's not cruel. I did some arithmetic in my head. 350 revolutions was over twelve miles! I started walking, fast.

I must be getting into shape. I finished the distance with about twenty minutes to spare. Finally Jason showed up. "Well, I finished in plenty of time," I crowed. "You missed your chance to whip me."

"There'll be plenty of chances later. The revolution counter goes up to 999."

Jason unlocked the chain from the ring and, you guessed it, put it between my legs. I didn't bother to complain. He dragged me into the kitchen, chained my neck to the ceiling eyebolt, and removed the cuffs and the chain around my waist. I helped him prepare lunch.

While we were eating I asked, "The new owners get everything moved in?"

"Yeah, at least what they had in their U-Haul. I think they've got another shipment coming. More importantly, they offered me a job as their hired man and I took it. So the story for my parents will be true."

"Doesn't the hired man usually live on the farm? You'll have to move back there."

Jason laughed. "Nice try. I told them I was living here, with my fiancee. That was fine with them."

"I'm not your fiancee!"

"Fiancee, slave girl, whatever." Jason unlocked the chain from the eyebolt. "I said I'd be back after lunch to show them around. You can spend some more time with the tree."

"Please, Jason, I have to go to the bathroom and I'd like to do it without this chain on my neck. Please take it off."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Suzi."

"Pretty please, Jason? You can trust me. I won't try to escape. I just want to go to the bathroom."

"OK, but if you do try to escape the punishment will severe." He unbolted the chain around my neck.

I moved in the direction of the bathroom but continued down the hall, and once out the front door I ran all out. I headed for the place where the razor wire was cut. I had it all planned: Over the fence, across the road, and beg the new owners to grant me sanctuary. I was only dressed in a T-shirt and hiking boots, but better embarrassment than captivity.

The rat fixed the razor wire! I couldn't get over the fence. I turned around and there was Jason. He had me trapped in the corner of the fence. I was doomed.

"Hold your hands out, Suzi." I didn't struggle, it was hopeless. Jason wrapped the end of a long rope around my wrists, cinched and tied it, and pulled me back behind the house. He tied me facing the maple tree, and this time he pulled me up onto my toes. He tied my ankles apart at the sides of the trunk and wrapped rope around my waist, forcing it into the tree.

"I'm hurt, Suzi. You betrayed my trust and now I'm forced to punish you."

"I'm really, really sorry, Jason. You don't have to punish me. I've learned my lesson."

"That's good to hear. But just to reinforce the lesson I'm going to give you twenty lashes with my belt."

"Twenty lashes? You can't be serious! I told you, I don't like pain!"

"If you did like pain it wouldn't be a punishment, would it? You can scream and beg all you want. It won't stop the whipping, but it'll give me a rush."

The rat! I resolved to die rather than give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

Smack! A line of fire traced itself across my butt. It hurt, but I could stand it. Jason hit me again, and I grunted. His belt was heavy, but it wasn't a bullwhip. I can stand this!

By the eighth stroke my whole ass was on fire. As Jason kept hitting me my moans got louder and louder. After one harder than usual lash I screamed, and after the next I begged, "Please stop, please stop! I can't stand it any more."

Jason didn't stop. He delivered the full twenty lashes. I was crying and moaning. He kept me tied to the tree for another ten minutes or so before untying me. I gingerly touched my bottom. It was red, puffy, and it hurt a lot, but the wide belt hadn't caused any concentrated damage.

Jason hugged me and we kissed. "I'm sorry I had to do that, Suzi, but I did have to do it. I hope you understand." He wiped the tears off my face.

I did understand. And while I certainly didn't like the pain, taken as a whole the experience wasn't totally bad. I had a lot more respect for Jason now. I kissed him again. "I'm sorry I lied to you, Jason."

"OK, this episode is closed."

Jason chained me to the tree and gave me a stack of paper. "This is a story I downloaded from the web. We can use it for our first scenario. I made a script by deleting the parts of the story that aren't suitable. The pages on top of the stack are the script. Your part is marked with an 'S'."

I read it standing up. It was a sci-fi story, and fairly interesting. My part wasn't complicated. I played a young woman from an advanced culture who is sent in disguise to investigate a planet with a more primitive culture. She accidentally violates a local law and is arrested and imprisoned. She gets tied up a lot. (Duh). Jason's script didn't have much dialog written out. It was mainly scene descriptions and explanations of the characters' motivation and feelings. I didn't need much time to memorize it.

After dinner we worked on costumes and props. I had learned to sew when I was a girl, and Grandma's old sewing machine still worked. Jason worked outside, (leaving me chained to an eyebolt, of course) and I could hear hammering and see flashes of light from arc welding.

The next morning after breakfast we went out behind the barn. I was dressed in the 'peasant girl' costume I made last night. It was very simple, just a dress with a sleeveless bodice and a full, ankle-length skirt. I was wearing sandals and a knitted shawl was wrapped around my waist. Around my neck I wore a wooden medallion with an eight-pointed star drawn on one side.

"OK, Suzi. We'll start the play from where you meet the jailor for the first time."

"Oh, goody! Do I get to kick you in the balls, like in the story?"

"We'll start after that, from where he punches you in the solar plexus and ties you up."

He tapped me on the stomach and I said 'Oooff' and fell down. Jason turned me on my stomach, pulled my hands behind my back, and strapped them palm-to-palm with a wide leather strap. He pulled it tight and buckled it. He used a piece of thin nylon rope to make a harness by running each end of the rope forward over a shoulder, back through an armpit, and tying the ends together in the middle of my back. Next Jason looped a wide belt around my arms just above the elbows. He pulled until my elbows almost touched. I'm not too flexible so this hurt a bit, but in the interest of artistic verisimilitude I kept quiet. He used more rope to cinch the center of the belt around my elbows and tied it to the harness. Then he crossed my ankles and tied them together. He ran a rope from the cinch on my ankles to the cinch on my elbows and pulled until my feet touched my hands.

I squirmed a bit, but I knew I wasn't going anywhere. This hogtie was strict! Jason put a bit gag in my mouth. It was home-made from a wooden dowel, and it tied behind my head using rope threaded through holes drilled in the dowel ends. Jason asked, "Can you breathe through the gag?"

I could, barely, so I grunted, "Uh, huh." We never used gags when we played as kids, so I wasn't used to this. The dowel jammed my mouth open and I was already drooling. I could breathe around the gag, but I couldn't talk. That meant I couldn't ask Jason what I really wanted to know, which was: How long did I have to stay like this? I had no illusions about my ability to escape on my own.

Jason carried me over to an old wooden wagon bed and put me inside. "This will simulate the trip to the jail. I've got to go to the house. The cable guy is due any minute to install the Internet. I'll be back in about an hour, after he's gone."

I was not happy to hear this. I do not like to be tied up this tightly and left alone. I tried to complain through my gag, but Jason was gone.

I just lay on my stomach in the wagon bed. I couldn't do more than roll a bit from side to side, and it hurt when I tried it. I had no way to tell the time, but it seemed like I had been like this for an eternity. My hands were numb, unlike my arms and shoulders, which were excruciatingly painful. The pain got so bad I cried, sobbing into my gag.

Finally Jason appeared. "Suzi! I'm so sorry. The damn cable guy hasn't shown up yet. I didn't mean to leave you like this for so long." He sounded upset. He climbed into the wagon and untied my ankles and the rope harness. He removed the straps around my wrists and elbows. I couldn't feel my arms and they flopped limply to my sides. He took out my gag. "You OK?"

I croaked, "Please, can I have some water? My mouth is so dry."

"Sure, I'll get you some." He picked me up and carried me inside the barn and into the tack room. He put me on my back on a wooden bench and then left the barn. I wasn't tied up, but there was no way I could escape. My arms still wouldn't respond and my legs were stiff. I just lay there until Jason returned.

He held a cup of water to my lips and I drank some. Jason looped a chain through a ring bolted to the wall and locked it around my neck. He said, "We'll use this room as the jail cell. I'll bring you some more water and a honey bucket."

"I hope I don't have to spend six days in jail like the girl in the story."

"No, just until the cable guy is done and gone." He left for a few minutes and returned with a plastic bucket and a bottle of water. "Back soon." He kissed me and exited.

Jason finally returned late in the afternoon. He had brought me a sandwich at lunchtime, so I wasn't hungrier than usual. My arms didn't hurt as much now, but I was bored. "Got the Internet working? I asked.

"Yeah, but it wasn't easy. It took a long time before the clown even showed up, and he didn't know what he was doing. I did most of the technical stuff." Jason kissed me and massaged my shoulders. "Are you OK?"

"I still hurt some, but I'm mostly OK. I'm tired of sitting in this cell. Where do we go from here?"

"Let's do the prison check-in scene. I especially want to do the body-cavity search." Jason unchained my neck and helped me stand up. He grabbed my arm and led me into the barn and over to an old wooden table. "Strip!" he commanded.

I put my shawl on the table, then removed my dress and put it with the shawl. I didn't have any underwear.

"Sandals and medallion, too."

I added them to the pile. Jason strapped my hands behind my back, palm-to-palm. He ran his fingers through my hair and looked inside my mouth. "Bend over the table," he ordered. "Spread your legs."

I did as he said. I felt his fingers inside my pussy, and I gasped as he probed deep. He managed to make this more humiliating than arousing. What a great actor!

He chuckled. "You seem to be missing something in here."

I stiffened in outrage and he laughed. He let me straighten up without checking my other cavity.

Jason got a piece of brown cloth from a shelf. '628' was painted on it with yellow paint. "Six two eight is your number," he said. "You no longer have a name." The cloth had a hole in the center, and he put it over my head and under my bound arms. He wrapped string around my waist to act as a belt. The cloth reached to my knees, but it was so narrow it exposed my hips and the sides of my breasts.

Jason took my arm and hustled me outside and over to the equipment shed. He had built a makeshift forge just outside the shed by stacking some firebricks to form a square, hollow column. It was filled with glowing charcoal. Next to the forge were some tools, an anvil, and a bucket of water. The cot had been moved from the walker and placed so one end was next to the anvil.

Jason showed me two steel semicircles, about an inch wide and a quarter inch thick. The number '628' was punched into the outside of one semicircle and the other had a half-ring welded to it. Both ends of each semicircle had a radial flange with a hole in it.

Jason put some steel rivets on the hot coals and turned on a blower. The coals in the forge brightened and there was a shower of sparks. I stared at the rivets as they heated up. When they were red hot Jason commanded, "Kneel beside the anvil and put your head down."

He wrapped a wet towel around my neck and arranged it so it covered my head and my shoulder. He put one semicircle under my neck and the other over it and used a large wooden clamp to hold everything in place. I was excited, aroused, and frightened. I could hear Jason get a rivet from the forge. I could feel the heat as he maneuvered the rivet through the holes in the collar flanges. He moved my neck until the rivet head was over the anvil. I flinched every time he hit the rivet with his hammer. He splashed some water on the rivet and it sizzled.

Jason removed the clamp, rotated the steel circle around my neck, and hammered in another rivet. I now wore a slave collar, and I was so hot I was steaming.

Jason removed the towel. He arranged me on my back on the cot, close to one end. "Bend your knees and put your feet flat on the cot." I did as he said.

The leg irons were crude, just semicircles of half-inch bar stock with the ends flattened and drilled to accept a rivet. The connecting chain was fabricated from two steel rods with interlocking loops forged on the ends. Jason wrapped a wet rag around my right ankle and closed a cuff around it. I was so aroused I whimpered when he touched me. Jason put a glowing rivet through the holes in the cuff, moved my foot so the rivet head was over the anvil, and pounded the rivet flat. Every hammer blow reverberated all through me.

Jason riveted the other cuff around my left ankle. By the time he finished I was quivering. My pussy was dripping. Jason noticed and stroked my pubes. I screamed, "Please, Jason! Please fuck me! Now! Now!"

Jason was not slow in responding. He unzipped his pants and released his cock. As soon as it touched my slit I came, with the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced. When he entered me and started stroking I came again and again, until I fainted.

By the time I returned to earth Jason had arranged our bodies so we were laying full-length on the cot and facing one another. He reached around me and took the strap off my wrists. I hugged his neck and kissed him hard. "Thank you, Jason. It was wonderful."

"I had fun too. What happened? I'd like to be able to do it again."

"It was the rivets. Bondage has always turned me on, but there was always something missing. Ropes can be untied, padlocks can be unlocked, bolts can be unbolted. But rivets are so, so, ...implacable. When you hammered them into place I knew I was totally your captive, never to escape." I kissed him again. "Is it really true that you've loved me since the seventh grade?"

"Yes, it's true. Back then I loved you even though you were an unobtainable goddess. I love you even more now."

"I asked you to fuck me, didn't I? I guess that takes me across the last threshold. I already owed you my life, and now I've given you my body. You own me, Jason. I'll be anything you want me to be."

"How about being my wife? My obedient wife?"

"I suppose that's included in 'anything', if you want to risk it." I laughed. "Wife is easy, obedient is hard. But I'll try. I'm sure you'll help me."

Jason kissed me. "We can work on it together. It'll be good for both of us. But for now, 628, the show must go on!"

The End

Story copyright© 2008 by Zack. All rights reserved. I welcome your comments. E-mail me at zack_writer@hotmail. com


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