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Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 10

by Hagster

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© Copyright 2003 - Hagster - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/ff; bondage; con; XX

Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage - Chapter 10
by Hagster
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage 
Chapter Twenty
“What Happened?”
Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage Chapter Twenty “What Happened?”

That’s odd, I thought.  What happened?  The last thing I remembered was being given the best-damned oral sex I had ever experienced!  It was dark.  Why was it dark?  I felt confused and disoriented.  Why can’t I see anything?  I rolled my head from side to side and reached out with my hands.  I could feel the arms of the recliner against my palms and the foot extension under my feet.  Apparently I was lying in the recliner.  But what happened?

I rested for a few moments longer, then surmised I must have passed out.  Damn!  That was some good shit!  Seconds later, I realized my eyes were closed.  I opened them slowly allowing them to adjust to the light.  Gee, that made me feel intelligent.  I felt a warm hand on top of mine and saw Kristen’s face hovering over my own.  Her other hand was holding a damp cloth to my forehead.  Her eyes brightened and she smiled broadly.

“Whew, Sam, you scared me.  Are you all right?”  She seemed somewhat shaken, yet relieved.

“Yeah, I think so.”  I still wasn’t positive about what happened, but had a clue.  “What happened?”

“Well, I’m not sure, but I think I fucked your brains out!”  She horse laughed.  “You can speak and see and hear, and apparently reason, so I’m guessing there’s no permanent damage.”  She chortled again, and offered me a glass of water.  “Here, this should help.”

I eagerly grabbed the glass and swigged a large gulp of water.  Oh boy, that tasted and felt great.  There’s nothing like well water, chock full of minerals!  If you can’t taste it, smell it, or cut it with a knife, it isn’t real water!  I handed the glass back to her and uttered a restful sigh.  Once again, all was right with the world.

Kristen had rewound the videotape again and we moved over to the couch to watch the movie.  We both put our robes back on and sat down next to each other.  After the third time of watching the opening credits, you’d think I would have had them memorized.  I didn’t.  Maybe I was brain damaged!  She laid her head on my shoulder and against my bosom, and we held hands as the movie rolled on, this time uninterrupted, except for the occasional bathroom or kitchen break.

I was not disappointed in the movie, meaning the confirmation of my initial assessment of it probably being the usual Hollywood tripe and drivel laden with predictable and maddening scenarios and plot twists.  But, to be honest, it was entertaining. 

We sat together on the couch for two hours watching the movie.  It felt pleasant to share some quiet time with a close friend without being burdened with unbridled sexual activity.  I enjoyed our close contact and intimacy.  Just the two of us.  Wait a minute!  Just the two of us?  Kristen rewound the tape and laid the remote on the table.  I tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention.  “Uh, Kris, I just realized there’s only two of us watching this movie.”

She looked at me in feigned disbelief.  “What?”  She threw her hands up, palms extended, facing up, and shrugged her shoulders.  “You mean Trish?  She’s already seen it.”

“No, what I mean is ‘where is she’?”

She rolled her eyes and formed an “O” with her lips.  “Oh, she’s around here somewhere.  Why?”

What’s with the “why” shit?  Why was Kristen being so coy?  “What do you mean ‘why’?  I just want to know where she is!”  I thought back to the movie we had just watched.  “Did you kill her and hang her up on a meathook?”

“Are you serious?”  Her mouth hung open as she shook her head slowly a few times.  I did not answer.  She guffawed.  “You are!  You’re serious!” 

I gave her an animated ‘well, what am I supposed to think?’ type shrug.  “Well, no, but why won’t you tell me?”

“Okay, you win.  If you’re up to it, let’s go find your tormentor.”  She stood up and lent me her hand.  “Where do you think she is?” 

“How the Hell would I know?  You’re the one who stashed her body!”  I snickered.  “How about buried in the garden?”

She chuckled at my statement.  “No, she is inside the house, if that helps.  “That’s two questions.  Be careful, you only have eighteen left.”

“What do you mean ‘eighteen left’?  I thought for a second, then realized she was playing another game.  “What, are we playing Twenty Questions now?”

“That’s sixteen.”  She nodded and grinned.

Oh, great, why must everything be a fucking game with her?  I had to be careful about using up my allotted questions.  “What happens if I go over twenty?”

“Fifteen.  Are you going to let me answer?”  I nodded.  “If you go past twenty, you have to follow every order and command I give you.  You said you trusted me, right?”

“Yes, I do.  Okay, agreed.”  I started to plan my questions.  “But what happens if I win?”

“Fourteen.  Then you are the boss.  I follow your commands.” 

At last, power over Kristen.  I had to win this little game! 

“Is she behind a door?” 

Kristen thought for a moment.  “Yes.  Thirteen”

“Is she in a closet or cabinet?”

“No.  Eleven.”

“Eleven?  That was just one question.  Why eleven?”

“A multiple question with two possible answers.  Nine!”

“Now wait just one minute!  That was only just one question!”

“Yeah, one question, but you asked it twice.”  She was really getting a charge out of this!

“Okay, fine, whatever.  Can we continue?  Aawww, shit!!”

“Yes. Eight.”  Kristen was laughing really hard at that point.

“Is she under a piece of furniture?”

Kristen didn’t respond for a few seconds as she thought.  “Yes.  Seven.”

I had to analyze the situation.  Trish was behind a door and under a piece of furniture.  That means the bathroom is out and the kitchen has no furniture.  But, she’s behind a door.  Well, crap, every room has a door or doorway, therefore she could conceivably be in any room except the kitchen or bathroom.  I had to make my final questions count!  There was only one strategy left.

“Is she in this room?

“No.  Six.”  She knew what I was doing and grinned smugly.

“Is she under a bed?”

“No.  Five.”

Well, that eliminated all of the bedrooms, upstairs and downstairs.  Wait a minute.  Upstairs?  Aha!  "Is she in the attic?”  Shit, why didn’t I just say ‘upstairs’?

“No.  Four.”  She punched me in the shoulder.  “You’re almost finished.  You’d better concentrate!  Maybe you are brain damaged?”  She was mocking me and starting to get under my skin.  I sneered at her.

“Ow!  What’d you do that for?  Crap!!!”

“Just for shits and giggles!  Three.” 

I refocused my efforts.  “Is she upstairs?”

“No.  Two.”  She was nearly doubled over with laughter.  It was distracting and maddening.

“Is she in the dining room?”  There was a table in there, afterall.

“No.  One.”

Shit, where could she be?  I’d eliminated every room in the house.  Then it dawned on me!  Could she have been so…?  No, that wasn’t under a piece of furniture, it was an appliance, however.  Would she have dared?  I was out of options.  I knew I had lost the game and had only one more chance.

“Did you stick her in the freezer?  Did you?”

Kristen literally fell to her knees and collapsed against the couch.  “NO!”  She was laughing so hysterically that she actually lost her breath and had to lie down on the floor.  I couldn’t have felt more ridiculous.  I was crushed.  Perhaps I was brain damaged!

She grabbed her belly and tried to stretch, eventually calming herself.  Her laughter gradually subsided and she regained her composure.

“Okay, okay, calm yourself!”  I was thoroughly ashamed at my failure.  How could I not locate someone in my own house?  And to top it all, I was obligated to follow every one of Kristen’s orders.  I cringed at what that might entail.  The only saving grace was that I trusted her and she seemed to respect me.  I was never one to welsh on a deal, so I resigned myself to obedience.  “You can stand up now!”  She grabbed my outstretched hand and I helped her to stand.

“You know, you really suck at that game!” she mocked. 

“Well, it’s a lot easier when you know the rules of a game even if you don’t know you’re playing!”  I flipped her the bird.

“Waa, waa, waa,” she cried with an infantile taunt.  “You should have caught on sooner!”  She had continued to hold my hand, and led me off toward the kitchen.  “Follow me, loser.  You know, you were pretty damned close!”

“The freezer?”

“Yes and no.  The freezer is a piece of furniture, and Trish is under it, not inside of it.”

“But the freezer sits right on the floor, she couldn’t possibly…”  My sentence trailed off as I finally figured out where she was.  “The storm cellar?”

“The storm cellar.”  As we spoke, we walked through the kitchen and into the utility room where we had the washer and dryer, the freezer, and some storage shelves and cabinets.  In the floor was a long trap door that concealed a flight of old, oak stairs that led to the concrete walled storm cellar. 

I had only been in it six or seven times in my entire life.  It was dank, usually damp, and always creepy.  There were a few shelves on the wall, some pallets, and some wooden benches that were always water logged.  The cellar had no drain basin and tended to collect water in a heavy rainstorm, so we had installed a sump pump in order to keep it drained.  Hopefully the pump had been working or Trish would be sitting in a pool of water.  I jerked to a stop halting Kristen as well and looked at her.  “Is she really down there?”

“Well, yeah. Why?”

“Didn’t she complain?  I mean, how long has she been down there?”  I was obviously concerned.

“Well, let’s see, it’s almost one o’clock now, and hmm, let me see…  four or five hours?” 

My jaw dropped at her time estimate.  “Shit, Kris!  You’ve got the door latched!  She couldn’t get out if she wanted!”  Her face was without emotion.  “She could have been screaming for help and we would never have heard her!  What if she was trying to get out?”  I was beside myself with aggravation.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, now.”  Kristen put one hand on my shoulder and the other on my cheek.  “Trish agreed to it, and she’s perfectly safe.  Besides, she couldn’t yell for help even if she wanted to.”  She removed her hands and kneeled down to unlatch the door.  “It would probably be easier to show you than to explain.”  After unlatching the lock, she grabbed the handle and wrestled the heavy door upright, leaning it against the wall.  The hinges creaked as the raised door revealed a black void underneath.  Kristen reached for the light switch and flicked it on.  A dim light illuminated the cellar and a musty stench emanated from the lighted chamber. 

“Sam,” Kristen stared at me and placed her finger over her pursed lips as she whispered, “follow me down the stairs and don’t say a word.  Try not to make your presence known, and don’t say a word, no matter what, okay?”

I leered at her out of the corners of my eyes and reluctantly agreed with a nod.  The sound of her boots echoed with dull clicks as the heels contacted the steps.  She descended slowly.  I had a hard enough time walking in shoes with two-inch heels, yet she seemed graceful and elegant in her five inchers while negotiating a steep set of rickety stairs.  Impressive!  She didn’t try to disguise her footfalls, almost trying to amplify their presence.  My bare feet, on the other hand, padded quietly behind making no noise other than the short chains at my ankles tinkling on the wood, and causing the steps to creak under my weight.

After reaching the bottom of the stairs and standing on the damp concrete floor, I was reminded of the layout.  The cellar was ten feet by fourteen with steel joists running across the ceiling.  Four six-inch tubular columns were equally spaced about the room reaching from the floor to the ceiling.  It was a fairly well built room made to survive tornadoes.  Kristen was using it as a makeshift dungeon.

Trish was standing in the middle of the cellar.  Well, maybe standing was an understatement.  I saw her naked body before me.  The leather cuffs on her ankles were chained to each of two of the posts with her feet resting against each base, about three feet apart.  The leather wrist cuffs were chained to the tops of the posts and kept her in an upright spread-eagle.  I was viewing her from the rear, and, I must say, the sight was outstanding!  Her ass was absolutely perfect!  Inviting!  Kristen had affixed the chastity belt to Trish, the one with the two vibrators, one for her pussy and the other for her asshole.  The leather straps accentuated her waist and rear end.  Even though I tried to empathize with her situation, I couldn’t help but be aroused at the prospect of her being forced to be available to my every whim.  The bitch couldn’t resist me now!

Kristen put a finger to her lips and motioned for me to sit on the bench against the wall in front of Trish.  I sneaked around as quietly as I could while Kristen circled her captive a couple of times like a predator sizing up its prey before striking.  She shed her robe and hung it on a nail in one of the shelves.  Her choice of clothing reflected very well the attire that would be chosen by a dominant mistress.  I don’t know why I had not connected the dots earlier.  God, she was hot!  The clicks of her heavy steps reverberated throughout the cellar.  Did she have tap plates on the soles and heels of her boots?  It sounded intimidating! 

I sat down on the bench and kept my mouth shut.  Looking at Trish I noticed she was wearing the gag Kristen had been forced to wear the night before, a blindfold, and a leather collar around her neck.  Her head was hanging low, and it didn’t take long to figure out why.  A pair of jewelry chains were attached to her nipple rings and were pulled taut to the “D” ring at the front of her collar.  The slightest head movement would pull at her nipples and cause her great discomfort.  I also noted that the remote for the vibrators was tucked into the belt of the chastity.  Kristen had done a pretty good job of immobilizing Trish.  I was beginning to wonder about what she had planned for the afternoon’s festivities.  My questions would soon be answered.

Sammy Joe’s Barnyard Self-Bondage
Chapter Twenty-one
“You’ve been very bad!”
Chapter Twenty-one“You’ve been very bad!”
Trish heard the footsteps and tried to track Kristen’s location with her ears, but her head’s movements were extremely restricted.  I watched in fascination at what was about to happen.  Kristen ceased her stalking and drew close to Trish’s neck, whispering into her ear.  I couldn’t make out what was said, but did notice Trish nod her head, either in agreement or understanding.  I didn’t know which.

Kristen stepped back and flipped her hair and clicked her tongue.  “Okay, Trish, shall we begin?”  Trish shook her head, as much as she could without pulling on her nipples.  “Now, Trish, that’s an inappropriate response.  Once more…  Shall we begin?”  Trish again shook her head.  Kristen shrugged her shoulders at me and reached over to one of the shelves and grabbed the riding crop she had placed there earlier.  She caressed and stroked the leather implement with affection and licked the end flap, wetting it with her saliva.  I saw the crop rise to her side, then watched as the tip was slapped against Trish’s left butt cheek.  A sharp crack sounded and Trish reflexively jerked her head backward in response, tugging at her nipples.  Both breasts were pulled upward and a muffled scream emerged from behind her gag.  She quickly leaned her head forward to ease the tension on her nipple chains and yelped.

Kristen sneered and scoffed at her victim.  “Shall we begin?”  Trish immediately responded with a vigorous and repetitive nod.  “That’s better.”  She placed her left hand on Trish’s cheek.  “That’s much better.”  She pulled back her hand and kissed Trish on her forehead.  “You’ve been very bad!  What shall we do about it?”  Kristen remained motionless as she waited for an answer from Trish, an answer that would never come.  “Okay, since you have no suggestions, how about this?”  She paused for a moment, then licked her lips.  “How about a nice whipping, huh?  Would that be fine with you?”  Not only could I not believe my ears at what Kristen had just said, I couldn’t believe my eyes as Trish nodded her head!  My mouth fell open as Kristen acknowledged and raised the crop once more.  I cringed at what I thought would surely be a painful experience.

“This is for whipping me once!”  Kristen slapped the crop against Trish’s right butt cheek, causing her to jerk her head back again.  She screamed again as her nipples were pulled to their limit.  Kristen walked around in front of Trish allowing her to relax before resuming the assault.  “This is for whipping me a second time!”  The crop lashed out and scored a direct hit against the underside of Trish’s left breast.  Her blindfolded face grimaced in anguish at the pain, but she settled down quickly.  “And this is for failing to ask permission from Sam to perform oral sex on you.”  Again the crop lashed out against Trish’s tender flesh, the underside of her right breast that time.  Her shrill scream was muted while her body struggled and writhed against her restraints.  It was all so very erotic, and was causing me to become extremely excited.

Kristen ceased her assault and once again circled her captive, her heels clicking loudly as she arrogantly strutted, slapping the riding crop against the side of her thigh as she walked.  Trish “mmphhd” into her gag pleading for mercy.  I could sense her discomfort at not only being bound for all of those hours, but of being whipped just those few times.  Trish was a sorry sot, and I tried to feel for her, but damn, she did deserve everything that was coming to her.  Trish seemed to panic as she anticipated additional onslaughts on her available body.  She flinched at every noise and sighed when no contact was made.  I started to chuckle, but caught myself.  If Kristen were to give me a chance, I was going to give Trish a lashing of my own!

Kristen let loose with a series of volleys against Trish’s bare skin.  She cackled and relished every crack landed upon her friend’s flesh enjoying Trish’s muffled screams and the gyrations of her tortured body.  Thighs, ass, breasts, back… all were assailed by Kristen’s crop.  Trish was screaming and jerking with each lashing, yet she seemed to take it all in stride.  If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn the little slut was enjoying it.  Trish gasped into her gag and struggled against her bonds as each blow landed upon her flesh.  She lurched and writhed and squirmed at the assault.  I began to massage myself while enjoying the floorshow. 

Kristen glanced over at me and saw what I was up to. She winked at me and laid the crop on the shelf, then sat down next to me on the bench.  Trish obviously heard the clicks of Kristen’s heels walking away and relaxed in her bonds, moaning into her gag.  The session had left her body shimmering in the dim light with a heavy layer of perspiration.  She was breathing heavily apparently trying to bring herself back to a near-normal reality.  Eventually, her muscles relaxed and she allowed herself to become limp.

Kristen leaned over and whispered into my ear.  “Well, it looks like it’s your turn.”

My eyes opened wide and my jaw dropped.  I tried to keep my voice low.  “Oh no you don’t!  You’re not going to whip me!”

She laughed back at me.  “No, no, no.  It’s your turn to whip Trish.” 

“Oh, I don’t know…  I’d like to, but I don’t really want to hurt her,” I lied, well, almost lied.  I tried to be innocent and demure, but Kristen knew better.

“You fucking liar!”  By that time our conversation had become more audible and Trish realized that I was in the cellar with them.  I looked over at her and could tell that she was tensing up again, obviously anticipating another barrage of whipping.  “I saw your face last night after she pissed on you and remember what you said earlier.”  She pointed an accusing finger at my face.  “If you don’t pick up this crop and whip her until she apologizes, I will tie you up in her place and whip you!  Remember that we had an agreement and you lost.  Now, trust me and do as I say!”

I swallowed hard upon hearing her words and evaluated what she said.  I had made a bet and lost, and I did trust her.  But, what she was asking of me was new and troubling.  I mean, even though I wanted to get back at Trish, would I be able?  My thoughts were soon interrupted.  “Pick up the fucking crop now, or I will whip that tanned flesh from your body!”  I cringed at the thought and immediately stood and grasped the crop.  Better to cause pain to an accommodating person than to suffer it unwillingly… hopefully!

I watched Trish crane her head from side to side trying to hear what was happening.  I lowered the crop to my side and trod about the concrete floor which felt a bit slick and damp on my bare feet with only the short chains from my shackles clinking and the suction of my soles popping with each step making any sound.  I made my around to the front of Trish and reached into the front of her belt retrieving the remote to the vibrators.  I paused for a moment as I considered what I was about to do to her.  She had seemed to enjoy the whipping Kristen had inflicted upon her, and I did need to release some pent-up anger, so I decided to follow the order I was given.  I turned both knobs to 75%, slipped the control back into the belt, and proceeded to scope out Trish’s vulnerabilities.  

The poor girl had been chained up in the cellar for so long with no stimulation other than the whipping she had received from Kristen that when the two vibrators began humming inside of her she immediately seemed to come to orgasm.  It just didn’t seem to be fair, so I raised the crop into the air and smacked her ass.  The impact reminded her of the situation she was in and she responded with a muffled gasp and neck jerk, which reminded her of the chains attached to her nipples.  She shrieked into her gag at the pain and tried to shake her head, which only made matters worse.

I couldn’t help but snicker at her feeble attempts at protesting the situation.  I raised the crop and again lashed out at her ass.  Three consecutive connections with her sensitive flesh elicited a torrent of muffled obscenities and curses the likes of which I had never thought would be uttered by Little Miss Innocent.  The initial trepidation I had about inflicting pain upon one of my friends vanished with a hot flash of satisfaction and a warm sensation developed in the pit of my stomach.  A rush of adrenaline shot through my system as I listened to Trish’s fast and labored breathing as she attempted to again calm herself.  It was surely more difficult than it had previously been due to the presence of both the pain of the lashes and the pleasure of the vaginal and anal stimulations.  

Trish came down and relaxed a bit, and I attacked her once more.  She couldn’t see where the blows would land because of the blindfold, so I assumed she figured her rear end would be the target.  When I lashed out at each of her breasts, she appeared to have been caught off guard and shrieked so loudly, I would have sworn she had somehow removed the gag.  Tears streamed down each cheek as she thrashed about in her bonds, pulling her nipples straight up to their limits.  She gasped several times, then relaxed and dangled limply between the poles.

She was recovering from the onslaughts more quickly like she was becoming more accustomed to the torture.  I circled around her sizing up my prey for the next attack.  It just so happened that I glanced over at Kristen to see what was going on with her.  She had an obscenely pleasured look on her face and a free hand placed between her legs and the other diddling with her nipples.  Kristen was obviously enjoying herself and didn’t appear to be in any need of assistance.  She looked at me, gave me a “thumbs up” and blew me a kiss.  She knew what she liked and I suppose I was giving her what she wanted.  

I clinked and plodded my way to behind Trish and targeted the backs of her thighs and calves.  I landed repeated blows upon them, nearly twenty in all, before she finally indicated her desire for me to desist with pleading groans and grunts.  I stopped the whipping for a few moments, then smacked her ass once while she was in mid-breath.  I knew it was wicked of me to do so, but it made me feel so good.  I had managed to catch Trish off guard and throw her body into unexpected convulsions. 

There was a simultaneous screech from Trish and an evil chortle from Kristen.  I walked in front of Trish once more and reached into her belt for the controller.  She wiggled and writhed at the intrusion, then started grinding her hips harder as I turned both knobs up to their maximum setting.  She moaned deeply into her gag as more tears began to race down her cheeks.  I stuffed the remote back into the belt and placed my hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears.  I whispered into her ear and asked if she was okay.  She took a couple of deep breaths and nodded a “yes”.  Her entire body was quivering with pleasure and satisfaction.  

I glanced over at Kristen with a quizzical look on my face.  She just shrugged her shoulders back at me and commenced to stimulate herself.  I turned back to Trish and asked her if she wanted me to stop.  She violently shook her head and managed to indicate for me to continue, quickly!  Damn!  I never would have dreamed she was so into this punishment type of thing!  What a kinky little slut!  Oh well, I was never one to refuse a request.

I put a little distance between Trish and myself and spun around landing a volley of blows on the underside of her breasts and on her nipples that time as well.  Oddly the noises coming from Kristen were more pronounced than those from Trish.  I could only assume the pain was so intense that she was unable to scream or even struggle.  Her breathing was labored, so I reached over to the shelf and grabbed a set of keys and unlocked her gag.  I laid the keys back down and looked at Kristen.  She nodded her head in agreement.  I unfastened the buckle and eased the gag from her mouth.  A stream of saliva poured from her mouth as she swallowed and worked her jaw muscles.  “Thanks, Sam!  But don’t stop!”

She pleaded with me as the sweat poured from all over her body.  Her flesh was blushed and red from the beating she had received, yet she begged for more.  I obliged her.  With each lashing came a flurry of curses.  She called me every name in the book attempting, I assume, to not only vent her pain and pleasure, but also to provoke me into beating her even more harshly. I landed volley after volley across seemingly every inch of her torso and thighs attempting to break her will, but to no avail.  She taunted and cursed me with every available breath.  The lashes came more quickly, as did the taunts.  Kristen was busily pleasuring herself and was moaning and uttering her own sounds of ecstasy.

I was working up a sweat trying to break the little bitch when she finally got to me.  “Beat me, you piss faced cunt.  You can’t even keep a boyfriend satisfied and have to beat up on your girlfriends!”  I stopped in disbelief.  What had she just said?  I walked in front of her and looked at her blindfolded face.  “What did you say?”  I noticed Kristen had finally calmed herself and was listening intently to our conversation.

“You heard me, you piss faced cunt!  Beat me, you limp-wristed dyke!”  Her words were labored and halting as she tried to hide her pain and fatigue.  Kristen noticed the flames in my eyes and showed concern on her face at what was about to happen.

“Piss faced, huh?!!  Dyke, huh?!!  Limp-wristed?!!”  I nearly yelled back at her with the anger in my voice escalating with each word.  “I will break you, you, you…”

“Spit it out, you stuttering bitch!”  There was no humor in her voice.  She had been trying to provoke me and I was either unable to resist or so caught up in the game to know better.  Kristen rose to her feet just in time to witness the first of several blows designed to shut Trish up.  Blow after blow landed on her breasts and tits, on each cheek and on the backs of her thighs.  And for effect I smacked the insides of her thighs just underneath her pussy.  I struck her more forcefully than before and was rewarded by screams and shrieks instead of curses.  She jerked her body uncontrollably, tightening the chains to her nipples pulling them to their limits.  Her cries ranged from ecstasy to sheer terror and pain.  I raised the crop to begin a new volley as I saw her body fall limp as she hung by her wrists alone, her legs no longer supporting her weight.  

Kristen grabbed my arm and lowered it to my side.  “No, don’t stop!  More, please, more!”  Trish was barely able to speak; yet still begged to be beaten.  I looked at Kristen, as she told both of us “no more”.  Trish cried into her blindfold as Kristen reached around and turned off the vibrators.  

“You’ve both had enough and we need to stop,” she calmly spoke, once again proving she was the voice of reason.  She retrieved the crop from my grasp and placed it on the shelf, then grabbed the keys and asked me to help unchain our friend.  “It’s all right, Sam.  Take a few breaths and settle down.  Trish has a way of provoking people.  Don’t take it personally!”  

“What do you mean ‘don’t take it personally’?”  I yelled back at her.  “Did you hear what she said to me?”

“Yeah, I did.  Just words.  Believe me.  She was just trying to get a rise out of you and you fell for it."” She remained calm and spoke in hushed tones.  "Let’s just get Trish down and we’ll talk about this later, okay?”  I hung my head and agreed.  We unlocked the chains from her ankles first, then released her wrists from the overhead supports.  We helped Trish to the bench and sat her down.  Kristen returned to the center of the room and gathered up the chains, locks, and restraints and placed them into a bag.  By that time, Trish had removed her blindfold and wiped her eyes.  Our gazes met as she leaned forward and kissed my lips.  I tried to pull away, but her sincerity was genuine so I reluctantly returned the affection.

“Kristen has never pushed me so far!  She always stops before I reach my limit.”  She paused for a moment as she kissed me again.  Kristen had made her way up the stairs as Trish and I talked.  I guess she thought we needed to bond.  Looking back, I have to admit she was right.


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