Note: Originally written as a six stories/sequels, all merged into one here.
Part I (Good Dinner)
Karen slammed the large box full of folders on the desk with a sigh.
“There you go, Lynda, just a few more.” she said with a grin.
Lynda, who already had her hands full of folders turned around, frowning, looking at the floor where there were already a dozen boxes.”.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. Apparently the head office is cleaning their archives and sending them to us to file off. The delivery guy said that he still had to get about a dozen more.”
“Damn! I’ll be stuck here for the rest of my life.”
“I wish I could help you..” said Karen, when a phone was heard ringing from outside the archives room.
“Yeah, better go pick that up. I’ll be fine.” answered Lynda, beads of sweat covering her forehead. She had long blond hairs, held into a tight ponytail, but had a few strands hanging over her forehead which were, for the moment, glued there with the sweat..
Karen almost ran out of the room, her long curly brown hairs swinging in the draft, wiggling her butt in her tight dark blue stretch jeans, hopping on four inches pumps, she picked the phone while taking place behind her receptionist desk, spewing out the scripted answer.”
“Smith, Smithers and Smithens Lawyer’s office, my name is Karen. How may I help you today?”…
Lynda looked at Karen walk away, admiring how she could manage to walk, run, sit, basically spending all day in those extremely tight jeans and high heels. Yes, the jeans were stretchy, but Lynda wondered if there was any stretch left in them once Karen had them on. She didn’t seem impaired at all, she even managed to carry quite a few boxes of folders in between answering phone calls, taking messages, getting urgent mail to different offices. She was rushing all day long.
At lunch break, they sat together at the same table. Karen was already sitting when Lynda approached, wearing stretch jeans and sneakers with a wedge high heel. Karen noticed the new shoes.
“That is new. Never saw you in heels before.” she said as Lynda took a seat facing Karen.
“Oh, I do wear heels on some occasions, but I don’t see myself spending all day in them like you do. My feet would kill me before lunch.” she said, with a nervous laugh. I’m just trying out those sneakers this afternoon. They were looking comfy.” she said, stretching her leg to the side of the table to show the footwear off.
“They’re really nice. So, how do they feel?” asked Karen.
“Quite good actually.” answered Lynda. “I would almost say comfortable… I…”
Karen looked at her, waiting for the rest of the phrase, chewing her food.
“You were saying?” she asked.
“Ah, forget it. That’s silly.”
“There’s no silly questions, just silly answers.” said Karen.
“Well, I was wondering how you managed to keep those heels all day. Your feet must be hurting like hell at the end of the day.”
“I feel fine. Look. I’ve been wearing high heels since I was a teenager. I have pretty much nothing without heels, only a pair of sneakers I wear when I absolutely have to. Otherwise, it’s heels all the time.” answered Karen, not twitching a bit.
“Really? wow… Oh, say, I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I was about to forget it again, I owe you a dinner for when you filled in for me, last month. How about this Saturday? My place?”
Karen was taken aback.
“Err, seems fine. I’ll talk to Phil about it. I don’t think we have anything planned.” she said, taking another bite. “I’ll confirm it tomorrow, okay?”
Lynda agreed. They chatted about odds and ends for the rest of their lunch break then went back to work.
The high heels topic wasn’t really brought back for the rest of the week, but Lynda did wear those wedge sneakers every afternoon.
Lynda was pacing back and forth in her apartment, wondering if she had forgotten something, checking back on the roast beef in the oven, the wine, the table dressing, then checking the time, knowing perfectly they could come by any minute now.
She nonetheless startled when the door buzzer was activated. She opened the door and stayed in shock for a few minutes.
Lynda and Phil were there, Phil in a perfectly cut suit and tie, and Karen in a very well cut pair of leather jeans, snug just enough to emphasize her legs, and a leather jacket that appeared almost molded on her voluptuous forms.
“Hello Lynda. Recognize Phil?” said Karen as Phil extended a hand, yet puzzles as to why Lynda was kind of frozen in place.
“Oh… Yes. Hi.” she said, shaking his hand, then kind of coming out of her transe “Oh… oh, please come in.” she said, making way so they could enter.
“Something wrong?” asked Karen, feeling Lynda was kind of shocked by something.
“Well, it’s… I… I thought I had mentioned it wasn’t going to be anything fancy or anything, just a casual dinner, and… well… you’re both dressed up and here I am..” she said, opening her arms, showing she was wearing simple jeans, a loose shirt and the wedge sneakers. The outfit was simple, yet perfectly acceptable.
“Well, I believe it’s us that should apologize. Anyways, Phil has pretty much nothing else than suits and ties…”
“That’s what I prefer to wear.” he cut in.
“… And this is… well, what I wear on a casual Saturday.” said Karen, turning around, showing her perfectly cut black leather outfit, making Lynda realize that she was wearing pumps with at least a five inches heel. She found her two inches wedges silly.
“Ah… well, anyway… it’s not as we’re going out.” said nervously Lynda, when in fact, *they* were getting out, just not her.
She invited them into the small living room, pretty much next to her dining room. Only the kitchen was slightly separated from the dining room by a large island counter.
She poured some wine and began to chat about all and nothing. Karen was sitting very straight, always keeping her hands on her lap.
The oven timer alarm made Lynda get up.
“Need any help?” said Karen, getting up to follow Lynda.
In the kitchen, Lynda told Karen where to find things, and they both got the plates ready, but Lynda insisted she would do the service alone, so Karen went back to sit besides Phil.
Lynda poured the wine, served the entree, the soup, then the main dish, followed by a luscious dessert. It was then, over the ice cream, that she… broke the ice.
Say, Karen, I… I’m sorry for what I’m about to say, but I…I just have to ask and I don’t think I would get any better occasion than this.” began Lynda, to a puzzled Phil and a Karen visibly off guard.
“At work, we share lunch, and we work together only on occasion, I mean I’m stuck in archives while you’re glued to your receptionist’s desk.
Anyways, I noticed when we worked together that you work with your hands close to each other. I mean you pick one object, like a glass, yet you bring both arms in the movement. Sometimes, you seem to realize it and remove the useless arm, but you do that without realizing it.
Here, in the kitchen, you did the same. I saw you reach with both hands to get the salt shaker, while only one hand was actually working. It’s like they were… tied by an invisible chain.”
“Err… Well.” began to say Karen, her face getting red, Phil looking at her, amused.
“And I also noticed,” continued Lynda “that when you’re sitting, like when you came in, or… right now for that matter, you keep both your hands together on your lap.”
“Well… I was raised in…”
Lynda didn’t let her finish. She didn’t care about Karen’s explanation. She wanted to push her own.
“Okay. Here’s my theory… Damn, I drank way too much wine. I can’t believe I’m telling you this… oh, there it goes. Are you two in one of those 50 Shades of Grey relationships or something?”
Phil spit his mouthful of wine, laughing, trying to wipe the spill off the table with napkins, while Karen stayed there, mouth wide opened. She looked at Phil.
“Your call, hon.” he said, still laughing.
“We… I… It’s not…”
“Oh, come on, Karen!” continued Lynda. “You come to work wearing jeans so tight that you can barely sit in them. I even suspect that, in some occasions, you were wearing a corset underneath them. You wear heels like if you were barefooted. Damn! I saw you run out in the rain the other day and I doubt that, with my sneakers, I would have been able to follow you. Many of your jackets are so tight that you can barely open the door of your car. And, especially on Monday mornings, you have those weird… marks on your wrists or on your face, or… like now, on the side of your head, just there, close to your ear, looks like an imprint of something circular, like the ring of a harness or something… And… and you squirmed a few times on your chair… are you wearing toys or something too?”
Karen was red with embarrassment, while Lynda kept silence, awaiting something, then she reached for the wine, filled her glass and gulped almost half of it on the spot.”
“So?” asked Lynda. “Are you two into this BDBM… something relationship?”
“Well… Okay, the truth is out. Yes we are. I love to be bound up, and I spend most of my time at home tied up. There. I’ve said it. you’re happy now?” said Karen, like if she was not ready to take any hit on her, ready to lose Lynda’s friendship, ready for the humiliation, the finger pointing, ready to… whatever would happen, but not for that…”
“Oh great!” said Lynda, getting up her chair, going to a cabinet and retrieving a plastic bag.
She took her seat back, put the bag on the table and opened it, getting out a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and a beginner’s ballgag held with something like a shoelace.
“Would you use those on me? I mean… I already did it, but it’s not the same when the key is just at arm’s reach.” she said, picking the ballgag and fastening it in her mouth, tying a knot and a buckle behind her neck, then taking the cuffs, closing one hand to her left wrist and putting the key in front between Karen and Phil, extending both hands, waiting with anticipation.
Phil looked at Karen with an amused look.
“I never thought I would have to say that here, but… give me your purse.” said Phil.
Karen in shock, handed him her purse. Phil opened it and retrieved a pair of black steel police cuffs and a simple ballgag with a lockable leather strap.
Lynda pulled the gag out of her mouth with her hands, without untying it.
“I knew it! I knew I was right! You two are kinky!” she said, putting her gag back when she saw Phil’s serious face.
He put the ballgag in Karen’s mouth and tightened it very tightly. Lynda went wide eyes when she saw Karen’s jaw held wide open, the ball forced between her teeth, locking her jaw, then being tightened until her lips were all stretched out. Even with her hands free, she would have never been able to pull it out like she did.
He then put the cuffs on Karen’s wrists, keeping her arms in front of her. He got up and went to Lynda who, sheepishly now, offered her hands. He fastened the cheap cuffs, figuring that if she pulled hard enough, they would come apart. He undid the ballgag string knot. He made a loop in one end of the string, then fed the other end through it and tightened.
Lynda felt the ball being forced deep into her mouth, her lips stretching, before he tied it firmly. This time, she would not be able to pull it out with her hands. She felt him make many knots. She would have a hard time undoing them with her hands cuffed.
She felt stuck. She had no clue how cheap her cuffs were. It was a symbol. She was not under her own control. Someone else was in charge. She became wet.
“Okay, ladies, if you want to play it this way, clean this table and clean the dishes.” said Phil with an affirmative tone.
Karen jumped up, picked up most of the plate, with her bound hands, while Lynda was struggling with just a few items. “Practice makes perfect” she thought, looking at Karen working.
They began to work in the kitchen, cleaning the pots and pans, filling the dishwasher when Phil called for some more coffee.
Karen, used to be the one serving Phil, headed for the coffee maker but was stopped by Lynda who gestured that she wanted to do it.
Karen let lLynda take the place. She didn’t look at her, continuing on washing the dishes. A few moments later, she heard Phil’s firm annoyed tone.
“What the hell is that? It’s spilled all over. Stay there. Don’t move.”
Karen knew better than to go and have a look. She continued to clean the mess in the kitchen while she heard the apartment door open and close. A few minutes later, the same thing, then she heard some hustle.
“There. That should teach you some manners. Now, bring me another coffee, WITHOUT SPILLING IT and clean that mess.” she heard Phil say.
After what seemed quite a long time, Karen heard some shoe shuffling. She turned around and couldn’t repress a laugh. She knew why Phil had left the room.
He had gone back to the car to retrieve a roll of wide cotton rope. He had tied Lynda’s elbows in her back as tight as he could which stretched her wrists between her cuffs, rendering her arms pretty much useless.
He then made a hobble rope cuff between her ankles, leaving just a few inches of space between them, wrapping the rope into a rigid coil between her ankles.
Lynda had wide eyes and was heavily panting, holding the near empty coffee cup in one hand, which was leaving a trail of spills from the dining room to the kitchen.
Then Phil appeared behind her, smiling. He winked at Karen. He perfectly knew that bound like that, it would be impossible for her to fill another cup of coffee, even less bring it back to the dining room without spilling half of it.
Lynda wanted to know the game. She got served.
Keeping out of sight from Lynda, he watched her trying to grab the coffee pot, but she couldn’t reach it. She tried to lean on the counter, pulling hard on her cheap cuffs when they gave out. Her arm thrusted forward, hitting the coffee pot with the steel cuff, breaking it, spilling the hot coffee everywhere.
Lynda screamed under her gag. Karen rushed to her but Phil, unimpaired, was there way faster, pulling her away from the hot liquid. In a flash, he had his emergency knife in his hands and was cutting the gag string as well as the ankle ropes.
“Are you okay?” he asked Lynda, looking at her hand.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a 1st degree burn on my hand.” she said, then snapping out of it, began laughing nervously, looking at her broken cuffs.”
“When you pay for low quality merchandise… I would suspect that those were NOT police issued handcuffs with fur, as they were described.”
“It all depends how much you paid for them.”
Phil and Karen cracked up.
“I think that would be enough for tonight’s initiation, don’t you think?” said Phil, picking up the pieces of rope, throwing them out and handing the ballgag with the cut-off string to Lynda.
“I’m sorry… Oh, look at that mess.” said Lynda, picking up the paper towels roll.
“Nah, it’s okay. Leave that to Karen.” he said, directing her back to the dining room.
“But… no coffee?”
“I’m sure Karen will find a way to make some tea. Right hon?”
“What? Did you say you wanted your ankles cuffed too?”
“That’s what I thought. So, Lynda. Tell me. How was it?”
Lynda began to describe how helpless she felt and how everything seemed out of her control, and that she liked it, liked the feeling, that it was doing strange things in her mind.
Karen had finished cleaning the spills and sat on the wooden seat of the chair, letting herself literally drop, making a loud clunk when she sat. She startled but tried to let it flow.
“What was that noise?” asked a puzzled Lynda.
“What? What noise?” was sort of saying Karen (still gagged), looking around, trying to get the attention elsewhere, looking at something that could have made that noise.
“You’re wearing a chastity belt!” said triumphal Lynda.
“A chastety?…” she mumbled through her gag, as Phil turned to her.
Karen silently got up, and undid the belt, button and zipper of her leather jeans, pulling them slightly down, showing a shiny stainless steel belt wrapped tightly around her waist and crotch.
Lynda’s face illuminated.
“Oh my god!” she said getting up, carefully approaching, stretching a hand to touch it, but hesitantly, as if she was afraid to burn herself on a hot stove.
She touched it, lightly at first, then, feeling it wouldn’t burn her fingers, touched it more thoroughly, while Karen and Phil were looking at her, smiling, finding her reaction funny.
Karen suddenly twitched at the same time Lynda took her fingers off of the belt, startling, only to put them back on. Her eyes widened. Karen was frowning at Phil, who was smiling, holding something in his hand.
“Vibrating doldos?” asked Lynda. “Details! I want details!” she said, sounding like a kid in a candy store.
“Revenge is a dish best served cold” whispered Karen to Phil through gagged lips.
To Be Continued
© Pete, March 16, 2017
Part II (Good Surprise)
It had been a week. It had been an arduous week. Karen wanted to keep it low while Lynda was eager to learn more. They were found whispering on many occasions, raising suspicions amongst others that they were planning something. Rumors went wild.
“Drop by someday, BUT, but be sure to call ahead.” had said Karen, making big menacing eyes, to make sure Lynda understood the message. Deep inside, she hoped she would not stop by, but she was, reluctantly, giving Phil’s invitation. That didn’t make her tone down from her excitement of the different try-outs she had made every evening of the week.
It was around 11 on that Saturday morning. Phil was reading the latest financial news on his tablet, smiling at Karen occasional moanings while she was doing her chores, when the doorbell rang.
“What the hell…” he said, getting up, going to the door. He recognized who it was through the frosted window of the door. He opened the door, just enough to stick his head out.
“Lynda? What are you doing here?”
“Well, Karen told me that I could drop by, so… here am I.”
“Err… Didn’t she tell you to CALL before? She might be in a situation where she can’t come by.” said Phil, displeased.
“Of course she told me. And that’s the reason why I didn’t call: I want to see her in one of your daily… routines.” she said, with a large smile, “and I’m here to participate to… whatever it is.” she said, producing a large heavy plastic bag, Phil recognized the discrete logo printed on it, as one of their favorite fetish stores. “Can I come in?” she said, still waiting for Phil to open the door.
He did and Lynda walked in, wearing very tight stretch jeans, a vinyl jacket and high heels sandals.
“I’m sure she won’t mind.” said Lynda, trying to look over Phil’s shoulder, looking for Karen.
A slow pitch grunt followed by a yelp was heard, coming from the far end of the house.
“What is she doing?” asked Lynda with a devilish smile.
“Err… ironing my shirts.” said Phil.
“Ooo… can I see the setup?… Please?” she made with puppy eyes, but apparently it wasn’t to impress Phil.
“Oh… okay.” she quickly added, trying to defuse the situation. “Here’s the deal.You show me how she’s set up, and I… I’m…” she said, looking away, as if to think, weighing the implications of what she was about to say, getting wet just by the thought of it. “… I’m… yours for the next 24 hours.” she said, looking at him, straight in the eyes, proving that, yes, she was serious.
Phil thought for a few moments.
“Okay. Fine. Give me this” he said, as he grabbed Lynda’s bag. “Follow me.”
Lynda followed Phil to the back end of the house, and approached slowly, trying not to make her heels make too much noise.
When she reached the door, she was stunned by the sight.
Karen was wearing knee high lace-up wedge heel boots. The heel being any higher, it would have been ballet boots. A 2cm hole had been drilled through the wedge heel, and a steel pipe, along with elbows and flanges, was passing through it, the flanges screwed to the floor. The feet were about 15cm apart.
A tightly drawn leather cuff around her ankle, with a dangling padlock, was making sure she would not take her feet off the boots.
They couldn’t move off the floor. They couldn’t lift, bend, twist, or slide. Her feet were literally screwed to the floor.
It went on over a black latex catsuit, with no apparent zippers. Another set of leather cuffs were tightly locked over her knees, a steel rod linking them at just the right spacing to have her legs comfortable with her feet.
A red leather corset, squishing her from the hips to over her breasts was tightly laced on, a steel chastity belt was making sure it would not be removed. The belt appeared to be very tight under the crotch, pushing deeply in whatever was there.
Two black boxes, the size of a cigarette pack, were hanging by the back of the chastity belt. Some lights were flashing, and Karen seemed to be reacting to it.
Her head was covered with a blow-up hood that had dark lenses over the eyes. Her neck was wrapped into a 6cm wide leather collar, limiting her head movements.
Her arms were completely covered in latex, including her fingers. More leather cuffs around her wrists were linked by a chain, apparently barely long enough to perform her tasks. This chain was passing through an O ring located under the ironing board, itself bolted to the floor.
The pile of raw shirts were in a laundry basket to her left. To reach it, she had to bring her right hand to the ring to have enough chain to reach the basket from her left arm.
Then she would iron the shirt, fold it and put it in a perfect pile to her right, again to the limit of her chain.
Finally, a chain was linking her neck to the back wall, limiting the amount of bending she could do.
Lynda was puzzled at the amount of shirts she had to iron and fold.
“Geesh. How many of those do you have?”
“31.” answered Phil. “One for each day of the month. Usually, only those I used during the week are to be washed, as I run through all of them in the course of a month. However, if I find one shirt with a stain or a wrinkle, she has to do the whole stack of them on the next laundry day. I found one with a tiny wrinkle Thursday. That’s why she has to do all of them.”
“Oh…” said Lynda, taking that it was overkilled, but at the same time… “And those boxes?” she asked, pointing the black boxes at the back of Karen’s waist.
“One controls the vibrating dildos, the other a tens unit. They fire in a specific repetitive sequence. They’re there for some pleasure, some discomfort, but mainly, only to distract her. Why do you think the wrinkle got there in the first place?”
Karen was lost in her world, trying to get in sync with the torments so they wouldn’t fire while she was ironing, which may cause another wrinkle as she would twitch. Normally, unbound, this ironing and folding of 31 shirts would take her about an hour. On this setup, she had been at it for close to two hours.
Her feet were aching, and she was so hot, so teased, she was ready to explode, but she wasn’t allowed to.
She thought she heard faint voices. While picking the last shirt, she turned around, expecting to see Phil… but NOT Lynda.
She startled, and for an instant, let go of the grip on the shirt. With her latex covered fingers, she didn’t felt the shirt slowly slip off. She only saw Lynda make wide eyes and point to her left.
Karen looked up just in time to watch the shirt fall slowly fall on the floor. She immediately tried to catch it, but she was prevented by the neck chain.
“Let me h…” began to say Lynda, reaching for the shirt, but she was firmly grabbed by Phil.
“You do not help her. That’s her problem now.”
Karen raised up, arms hanging by her side, as if in total dismay.
“What’s up… She can’t pick it up. Are you…”
“No. I won’t help her. That’s her problem. Now the setup is easy: she’s to be kept there for the time needed to iron all the shirts for three hours, whichever comes first. If they’re not done by 3 hours, she will have to redo all of them next Saturday morning. Which is what is going to happen.”
“You mean that… she will stand still like that for almost an hour? That’s devilish.”
Phil answered with a grin.
“That’s part of the deal. Now, how about your deal?”
To Be Continued
© Pete, March 25, 2017
Part III (Good Learning)
At this moment, Lynda realized that she might be way over her head. She had expected all that to be fun and pleasure. Now, seeing how Phil’s rules had put Karen into a hard time, she had second thoughts about her deal.
“I want to back out.” said Lynda.
Phil stopped. Stunned.
“I don’t want to do it. I want to take back what I said.”
Phil turned toward her, still very calm. Creepy calm.
“It is your choice and I can’t go against that.”
“Really? Well…” she began to say, relaxing.
“However,” Phil interrupted, “this kind of relationship is based on trust. Karen has full confidence in me that I will not go over her limits. I have confidence in her that she will accept whatever I ask her to do. I have confidence in her that, if she says the safe word, I will get her out of her predicament quickly, then we’ll talk about it, what went wrong, where I did go too far, or what sudden problem arose. By backing up from your prior engagement, you broke that trust on your part.”
He took her bag, handing it to her.
“Now, I will ask you to leave.”
He followed her, and as he was about to close the door on her he added:
“And do not come back, unless duly invited.”
Lynda was in awe. Her mind was getting cramps. Her heart was pounding. The door was closing.
“NO WAIT!” she said.
Phil stopped, the door almost closed, and waited. Silently. Lynda felt the pressure on her shoulders.
“I’m sure that… well… is it how it went with Karen?”
“No. It was different with Karen. We discovered it both at the same time, writing OUR book of rules at the same time, experience after experience. You came here, shove a bag full of bondage gear in my hands and said do whatever you want with me for the next 24 hours.
Actually, I was hoping you would back off. That was way too wild, way too open for a first time. Please come back in if you want to talk about it.” he said, opening the door.
Lynda made one hesitant first step, then walked in, decided to go through with it.
They sat at the kitchen table and laid out basic rules, safe words and so forth.
Once all was done, he looked inside the bag and smiled.
# # #
Karen was standing still, balancing her weight from one leg to the other, waiting for her time to be completed. She was pissed off against Lynda, to show up, unannounced, and making her drop a shirt, which will make her iron all of them again next week.
The dildos began to vibrate, bringing some joy while the tens unit fired to stop her arousal before she would reach an orgasm. That was devilish, and it was lasting three excruciating hours. The first two weren’t that bad since she had things to do, but now, only to wait, and being teased to denial… Lynda would pay for that. She didn’t know how yet, but she would.
Phil finally came back to take her out of her predicament. He began by unlinking her arms from the ironing board, but then, instead of linking her wrists in front of her so she would go on with the next tasks, he fixed them in a tight reverse prayer position in her back, making sure she had no way to reach the black boxes.
He removed the pipings fixing her boots to the floor and linked her ankles with a very short chain. He left her neck collar linked to the wall and walked away.
Karen was puzzled. That was not the usual laundry routine. Her next task was to put the clothes in the right drawers.
She saw a shadow getting slowly forward, and she startled. She could only assume it was Lynda since her head was completely hidden under a full latex hood, but she recognized her eyes.
A heavy leather harness was holding a very large ballgag in her open mouth. She had on a tight red latex catsuit. Her waist was squished by a corset. She was hobbling on high heel platform sandals, her ankles linked by a single link of chain. The same for the tight cuffs circling her knees.
Her arms were tied in front of her at the wrists AND elbows, greatly limiting her range of movement, and could be quite painful because the way the elbows were twisted, depending on how she moved them.
“Well, ladies, it seems that the tasks will be divided. Lynda, you will put the clothes away in their rightful places. It’s for you to figure it out. Karen, you will be doing the next task.
Oh, Lynda, for every misplaced item, you get marked down.”
Phil unhooked Karen from the wall and dragged her along. As she was passing by the pile of dress shirts, she thought that, anyways, she would have to wash and iron them all again the next weekend so…
As she walked she (apparently) tripped and lost her balance for an instant, hitting with her hips the pile of shirts, which tumbled down, half of them landing on the floor.
“Lynda. You ought to be more careful. Look what you did.” said Phil.
Lynda looked at her with wide eyes, and began to protest.
He took the chain hanging from Karen’s collar and used it to link Lynda’s wrists to her neck in a way that she will have to bend a lot to do what was needed.
“You do not have the right to protest. Action equal consequences. You will pick them up and put them into the dirty laundry basket. Karen, come. I have to hook you to the lawnmower.”
Karen was laughing inside. Good for her. As for Lynda, things were less and less than what she expected it to be.
She loved mowing the lawn, especially on the specially modified tractor mower. She was led to the garage where she hobbled to the mower and waited for Phil to get everything ready.
He began by linking Karen’s collar to a hanging chain, just to make sure she wouldn’t run away, then unlinked her ankles to tied them back to rings embedded in the concrete floor, with her legs wide opened.
He then took a steel bar and screwed it, through a slot in her chastity belt, to her vaginal dildo. The rod was about 15cm long and the other end was also threaded.
He unlinked her from her standing setup and had her climb on the mower, gently getting her to sit down as he fed the steel rod through a hole in the seat, where he screwed it to the rest of the mechanism. He then took chains welded to the tractor body and hooked them to D rings on the side of her chastity belt, tightening them with a turnbuckle until she couldn’t lift her butt off the seat.
He then fixed her left foot to the brake pedal, which has been modified as being a simple steel tube, which would be fed through the hole in her wedge boot. A large washer and a padlock through a hole made sure it wouldn’t slip off. Her right foot, having nothing to do, was simply bolted, using the same rod through the sole technique, to the right footrest.
Her arms were unlinked from her back and linked with a chain just long enough so that they would barely cover the diameter of the steering wheel. The center link of the chain was locked to a freely rotating ring in its center. Finally, the back ring of her collar was chained to the back of the tractor, preventing her from tipping forward in case of a hard stop, some kind of… safety belt… made of steel… and linked to her neck.
Finally, he linked a cable from the mower to the tens black box on Karen’s back.
He started the engine, as she couldn’t reach for the starter key. Immediately, Karen moaned, the vibrations of the engine being directed to her dildo, but at the same time, she was thoroughly zapped by the tens unit. Why? Because it was linked to the brake pedal. Every time it would be used, she would be zapped, and since to start the engine, the brake pedal had to be depressed, she was getting it. She was eager to lift her foot out of it, which she did as soon as the engine was purring like a cat.
The problem was, she couldn’t rest her feet. She had to keep it in the air. From time to time, she would simply get too exhausted and let go, knowing that she would get zapped, but it was all part of the deal, part of the fun.
Now, to control the forward/reverse motion and speed of the tractor: it was equipped with a hydrostatic transmission, which means that a single level is used for that operation: the center position is neutral. The more you push it forward, the faster you go forward, and the farther backward, the faster reverse you go. That level is usually located to the right back fender, but in her case, it has been linked with… you guessed it, her dildo. So she had to work her hips forward to increase the forward speed, and backward to stop and go reverse, all that while she was being vibrated by the engine, and the black box which hasn’t been turned off. Add the bumps and you have the full picture.
She slowly moved backward to gently reversed the tractor out of the garage, under Phil’s amused look. She had the know-how. It wasn’t her first time. She gently backed up, then gently moved her hips forward to stop and drive forward, heading for the lawn, where she began to mow.
The job would take, for a normal operator, about half an hour, but for her, in this setup, she was looking at taking over an hour. Over an hour of getting screwed, vibrated and zapped.
She would be a wreck.
She had a thought for Lynda. Sort of.
To Be Continued.
© Pete, March 26, 2017
Part IV (Good Consequences)
The lawn was done, and so was Karen. Completely. Her brain has been fucked out of her body so many times, she fell asleep of exhaustion, sitting on the lawnmower tractor, awaiting to be freed by Phil.
Even if her feet were depressing the brake pedal, she didn’t mind. In fact, she wasn’t feeling the tens unit anymore. Either she had completely drained the battery, or she had become insensitive to its effects.
In any cases, it was like that every week, and Phil never answered her questions as to which was which, stating that it was of no importance.
Lynda was by the bedroom door, looking at her completed work, or rather, completed disaster. She knew many items were not at the right place, especially those laying on the floor, she had been unable to take up, prevented by her bondage setup.
Her elbows were aching and she was eager to get some rest. She could call the safe word, but she was afraid that she would bail off too early. It was strenuous, but she liked it. A lot.
The total lack of control on the situation, the awkward movements she had to make, the strange postures she has to keep, all this, along with the brand new vibrating dildos she had bought, were completely new experiences.
She thought getting stimulated while in bondage would be something special. She never imagined it would be THAT special.
Phil was approaching the door, already counting the items that had fallen off her hands while bringing them in, that were almost laid out like trail markings. He was smiling, on the verge of laughing, shaking his head from side to side.
“Damn. What do you want me to do with all this?” he asked the gagged Lynda, making a broad gesture to show the mess she had made. “You have enough downpoints to… if Karen had that many down points, she would be encased into a cast for over a month!”
Lynda made wide, scary eyes.
“Nah, I’m not to put you in a cast… we haven’t discussed that possibility, but I mean, this is beyond punishment.” he said, looking everywhere.
“huuuuttffff.” she said, moving her arms, trying to inform him that her elbows were hurting big time.
“Yes, of course.” he said, unlinking them, to which Lynda responded by a low-pitch grunt of relief.
“Now that you can pick stuff off the floor, take everything back into a basket. We’ll deal with that later. And don’t count on Karen. She will be a wreck. I heard the tractor enter the garage as I was getting upstairs.”
Lynda nodded and went to work, thinking how this went, and especially on the thought of being put into a cast… for over a month. She became aroused.
Phil walked to the garage, smiling. He knew Karen would be a wreck.
He removed the links and helped her out of the tractor, helping her to walk back inside. Her legs were wobbly and he knew she was ready for some rest.
He helped her down the dungeon where he set her up inside the vacbed, making sure all toys were disconnected. She needed rest. That’s what she would have.
When he turned around to leave, he saw Lynda, in awe, looking at all the devices in the dungeon: benches, crosses, cages, suspension racks, etc.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Ifff. faannfdd fooo fffy fffaffen ffeere”
“You… wanted to know why I had brought Karen down here?”
“Efff” said Lynda, wide eyes, finding awesome Phil could understand anything of what she had said. She looked at Karen, slowly squirming inside the vacbed.
“She’s resting. Mowing the lawn is very exhausting.”
“Oh… fee ffirffe tfoo”
“Oh you’re tired too? Very well, just come over here.” he said, inviting her to a nearby leather covered table, the side of which was completely covered by steel rings. She suddenly had second thoughts.
She had a puzzled look when he came back with a roll of duct tape and what seemed like a nylon sock.
“First of all, the gag is there for a reason: to keep you from talking. I know one can gargle something out of it, but the fact that it is for you NOT to talk.” he said putting the nylon sock over Lynda’s head.
“Time for your first lesson of disobedience. You have a lot to learn about rules, consequences and punishments.” he said, as he began to wrap her head with the duct tape, pushing even deeper the harness gag, and clamping everything shut. She will not be able to produce a single sound with her mouth once it will be done.
He taped everything very tightly, except for the bottom of the nose and the eyes. She felt her head being pressed relentlessly as more layers were added. She counted something like three or four layers.
He then unlinked her wrists, put her arms on each side of her body, bent down and began to wrap her ankles together.
Lynda became quite aroused. It would not be a cast, but being mummified was… appealing.
He wrapped everything pulling hard on the roll of tape. Five industrial sized rolls were used in all. Her arms were hardly pressed on each side of her body, her chest tightly wrapped, making inhaling difficult. She couldn’t move at all.
He grabbed her and gently pushed her on the leather covered table, before taking a bunch of leather straps and fixing her in, the last one held her forehead firmly down.
She saw him bend over her. She could barely hear him, but she read his lips.
“Have a nice nap.” he said before putting a last piece of tape over her eyes.
Lynda was alone, in her darkness, tightly hugged by the ungiving duct tape. She tried to lift her legs, bend her knees, and turn to her side, but the dozen or so leather straps holding her firmly in place on the table didn’t allow it. She liked it. It was almost comfortable, like being cuddled and hugged constantly. Tightly.
She began to relax, to doze off. She was so exhausted, as much as physically as mentally. She wondered how Karen could live that day after day.
Then, slowly, the reality of being over tightly bound, began to surface. her muscles wanted to relax, to move, to flex, but she was unable to. Comfortable was slowly replaced by uncomfortable.
She began to squirm, looking for relief, but it did nothing. The discomfort was slowly spreading. She recalled what Phil told her before wrapping her, something about rules and consequences, that she had a lot to learn about all that.
The teaching was sinking in.
To Be Continued
© Pete, March 30, 2017
Part V (Good… Recover)
Karen has been awake, slowly squirming under her vacuum confinement for quite a while when she finally felt the pressure around her body vanish, and she found her mobility again.
The vacbed was open and Phil helped her get out. He removed the blow-up hood, and laughed at Karen’s face, which was a mix of rippled skin, smile, grin and an “I’m out of this world” eyes.
She laughed back then she startled when she saw the silver cocoon on the other table. She opened her mouth, to which Phil acknowledged.
“Lynda?” she asked.
“Yes. She had trouble understanding the action-consequences principles. I thought of giving her a lesson.”
“How long has she been there?”
“About three hours. Want to help me get her out of that?”
Karen laughed and began to undo the straps, struggling to lose them.
“Geesh. I don’t think you ever got that tight on me.” said Karen.
“Well, you behave a lot more than she did. Don’t worry, we have an agreement.” he said as he began to cut the tape off, using a pair of first-aid scissors. The cocoon popped like an over blown balloon with every scissors cut, and each release of pressure was accompanied with a moan from the still wrapped head. They helped her sit on the side of the table.
He cut the tape off her head, and Lynda laughed at Lynda’s expressions.
“Impressive feeling to be wrapped up, and it’s another one to be released, don’t you think?”
Lynda had understood the lesson. She nodded her head, but kept silent. Phil removed the harness gag and gave her the permission to talk.
“That was… intense… even though that word doesn’t convey all of it.” she said, still kind of dreaming.
“Yes, I know the feeling. Wait ‘till you get a full body cast. That’s a mummification feeling on a completely different level.” said Karen, while Lynda was working her jaw to get some feeling back.
“Now what?” asked Lynda.
“Well,” said Phil, “You’ve both been totally immobile for quite some time. I will give you time to get your muscles all oxygenated, then, as the day isn’t over, I’ll fix you to make dinner.” he said, removing Karen’s chastity belt, allowing both of them for a leak and, perhaps, a change of toys.
He went away, closing the dungeon door behind him, locking them in. Karen gently pulled out the drained dildos as Lynda did the same with her toys, moaning a mix of relief, pleasure and disappointment at the same time.
When she raised her head up, Karen was close to her. Very close. Karen put her gloved hands over Lynda’s latex covered breasts, and she began to squeeze them. Lynda’s nipples had been very sensitive, and that almost gave her shocks. She moaned. Yes. She wanted it. More. Her hand reached down to Karen’s crotch where she found what she was looking for.
Their heads were right next to each other. They could feel each other’s breath. Their mouths found each other. Tongues extended. Lips locked.
Karen pushed her to lay down on the leather covered table. Slowly, gracefully, Karen climbed over Lynda, reaching, at the same time, at something in a nearby table.
Side by side, on the narrow table, Karen took some distance, as much as she could while she fondled at her crotch, pushing Lynda’s hand away.
Lynda had a look and startled. Karen was holding a long, soft silicone head to head dildo. She was inserting one end in her crotch and was about to push the other head up Lynda’s crotch.
“Is it okay to do this?” asked Lynda.
“Ever did it?”
“N… no.” said Lynda, unsure.
“Then, how do you know it’s bad?” she said as she locked her lips on Lynda as she pushed her hips inward, thrusting the dildo deep inside Lynda, who moaned, wrapped her arms around Karen and squeezed, pushing everything deeper in.
They turned around, putting Karen under, as Lynda was gently stroking the dildo, which was moving pretty much equal into one another.
The door made some noise and Phil entered.
“So, how my ladies hav….. Oh. I see.” he said, startled, seeing the last thing he had expected.
The women giggled. He approached.
“Well, you do realize that this table is quite narrow to do a stunt like that. You two should be careful… or someone must make sure you won’t fall off.
He took leather straps and wrapped the woman on the table, squishing their legs together on the table, putting a strap at ankles and on the fold of the knees, then one at the waist and finally one over their shoulders, trapping each other’s hands on the opposite breasts.
“I’ll give you some time, now that I’ll feel safer.” he said, before leaving again.
Lynda felt trapped
“What… what do we do now?” asked Lynda.
“That!” said Karen, thrusting her hips forward, giving a sharp blow to the dildo.
Lynda’s eyes pretty much rolled over as she let out a deep grunt, after which she immediately responded by moving her hips downward.
Somehow, by tying them at the waist and in the fold of the knees, Phil let their hips room to play. He knew what he was doing. They knew how to use it.
Phil was leaning against the closed door, hearing their moaning, evidently enjoying his setup. He smiled. Ideas were forming in his head.
To Be Continued
© Pete, March 31, 2017
Part VI (Good Ending)
He had waited until they had some fun. After all, they deserved it, and Lynda had to learn both sides of this life. When their moanings died down, he entered, freed them and prepared them for the next tasks.
Since Karen has an extensive wardrobe, he replaced the blow-up hood she had on since morning by a simple moulded hood with dark lenses. Her wedge boots were replaced by knee high leather ballet boots. A large ballgag hidden behind a panel gag made sure that there wouldn’t be much wordy exchanges between them. Finally, large but static dildos were inserted before Karen’s chastity belt was locked back on.
Lynda was pretty much stuck in the same outfit, but, in her head, she was planning where the next available money would go.
They were led upstairs, to the kitchen, equipped with hobble chains, and short chains on her wrists. The kitchen setup hasn’t been thought of with having to deal with two bound women, so there was only one O ring where to chained their collars. That created some problems as one would want to pass in front of the other, their neck chains getting in the way.
Phil had gotten out a pretty extensive 4 services recipe, including a soup, a salad, the main course and the dessert.
Karen was a great cook, even in bondage, so he wasn’t concerned about the results, but he soon realized that Lynda was more annoying to Karen than helping, and the reason was simple: she didn’t know the kitchen. She didn’t have a lot of experience in cooking either. Her weekly routines consisted of fast food, frozen dinners and very simple meals, while Karen was an experienced cook, knowing a lot about techniques.
He figured that Karen should teach her, but, how to teach when both girls are gagged? By pointing, and showing. He had to make sure Lynda would not simply have a lay back, kind of “learning”.
He stopped what they were doing and positioned them side by side, explaining that he wanted Karen to show Lynda how to cook. And to do so, he linked Karen’s left wrist to Lynda’s right wrist with a very short chain. Lynda would have no choice than to follow each of Karen’s movements, and at the same time, learn where everything was in the kitchen.
Karen was not happy about it. It was a major obstacle to cook. Phil sealed the deal with a hard slap on Karen’s butt, which made the dildos make a sudden move, making her moan. The worst part: Karen was left handed and Lynda was right handed.
Over an hour later, the first course was out. The salad was served. Both girls stayed behind Phil until he was done. Only then, they were allowed to bring their salads. They were both still tied together, forced to sit side by side. Phil only removed the gag.
“We… We eat like that?” asked Lynda, immediately stared at by Karen, who made a silence gesture with her finger over her mouth.
“You will learn, Lynda. It might be the hard way, but you will learn.” said Phil, smiling. She was suddenly scared of that smile.
The women had to eat, unable to use their strong hands, then as they were swallowing the last bits of the salad, Phil was tightly pushing the gags back in place while they got the soup ready.
This time, when it was their turn to eat, after removing the gags, Phil linked their collar to the back of their chairs, forcing them to lay back… to eat soup. The more spill they made, the more they would be punished. Karen had only a few spills, but Lynda had close to half her soup spilled over her latex covered thighs.
They had to clean the mess, still chained to each other. Their respective cleaning were inducing some heated rubbing until Phil grunted that it was not the time.
Moaning, the women resumed the service, bringing the shrimps. they had to eat restrained the same way, but because they had fun at the last service, their “free” hands was tied to the chair, forcing them to share their bound hands to eat.
that proved to be messy. Very messy, with garlic butter everywhere.
Phil cut them some loose for dessert, removing their linking bound, but keeping their neck tied to the high back of the chairs.
Finally, dinner was over, it was time for dishes. Yes, there was the dishwasher, but for pots and pans, it was done by hand. Karen was literally fixed at the sink, with her feet brought together and their ankles attached to a single ring on the floor. She couldn’t move from that spot. In addition to washing the dishes, she had to instruct, by gestures only, where everything was going to Lynda, who herself, had her collar linked to the O ring of the back wall.
“Okay, girls, all seems to be in order, now. Lynda, you should know that Saturday evenings is movie night. If you would come to the home theater room, this way.” he said, with a broad gesture, Karen already on her way.
the room was rather large, but filled with only the minimum… regular seats: two. The rest looked less than comfortable. Karen quickly took place on the only non-regular chair, which was leather covered and appeared to be quite body conforming. Phil was quick to set Karen in, tightening the numerous straps pretty much mummifying her in it.
As Phil tightened the straps that were pinning her things to the back of the chair, Karen realized that she was still wearing her chastity belt, and the static dildos. That was not the right setup. Usually, she gets vibrating ones that are linked with the sound system. She moaned, grunt and squirmed, trying to get the message through.
“Oh, I noticed, Karen. But you seemed so eager to take the chair before Lynda could have a try at it, I thought the toys were not important.”
“Well, you acted selfish, you will be all alone this evening.” he said, yanking the last strap, pinning her head firmly against the high cushioned back of the chair.
“Oh, you want earmuffs? Care for a blindfold too?” he asked, awaiting a single sound, but Karen knew better. She kept silent.
He placed the industrial noise suppression ear muffs over her ears, pretty much cutting every sound around her. With the rubber hood, she wouldn’t hear much except the loudest noises she would hear mainly through her body.
He then paused and looked around, thinking about Lynda’s setup.
Karen couldn’t see much, being only able to move her eyes, and even them had limited peripheral vision by the shape of the dark lenses. She saw that Phil seemed to be working on the floor, then, finally, she saw something move, something… rise.
Lynda had been strapped into an extensive leather harness, put into a very strict hogtie, where her arms were touching her ankles, and her head pulled forward, linked to her ankles. She was getting lifted off the ground, slanted slightly so that her eyesight would be toward the screen. After all, they were there to watch a movie.
Wires were dangling from her crotch and from the zips of her breast cuffs. Obviously, Phil had put some devices on her. She was slowly balancing, the dim lights of the room reflecting on her shiny and tensed latex catsuit.
From Lynda’s point of view, this was rather extreme. Huge dildos have been inserted, and tens pads put on her nipples. Her arms and legs were tied so tightly that no movement was possible, and her head was yanked backward at the maximum her spine would allow. She could move her fingers and her toes, but that was it.
Phil demanded her attention as he began to explain.
“Well, ladies, Karen is already aware of all I will explain. The thing is that Karen is totally deprived of any stimulation. That’s the price she pays for playing without permission.
As for you, Lynda, you have ALL the stimulations, which can be as bad as not having any, because you get simply overloaded, with discomfort at the same time as pleasure.
The way things work is rather simple: we watch a movie. The triggering of your devices, the double vibrating AND zapping dildos, the breast pads, as well as the pads I inserted on your butt, is done by the sound. Not exactly the volume, but the type of sounds: Explosions, shotguns, screams, but also laughs, bells, door closing, and such.
As every Saturday night, we’ll watch two movies: The first one is a SF drama: Arrival*. You’ll discover the second one in due time.
He sat down and began the streaming of the movies. Lynda’s first twitch was at the evacuation alarm at the beginning of the movie, where she got vibed quite a lot, but she got zapped with helicopter sounds. Vibrated when the aliens were talking. She was a wreck by the end of that first movie. When she saw the title of the second one, she almost panicked.
Karen was frustrated. She was totally deprived of everything, except the sight. She barely understood anything of the first movie. She was not eager to see what she will miss on the second one, then it began, and she went wide eyes when she saw the title: [insert your favorite action pack movie here].
Phil looked at them: Lynda balancing with each fire of whatever device, and Karen, obviously pissed off from missing it all.
“I never had two women watching a movie with me. I can get used to that.” he said to himself.
© Pete / monsterp63, April 2, 2017
*’Arrival’ was mostly shot in Quebec (Canada), with a Quebecer Director. As a Quebecer myself, I’m plugging my fellow citizens… And it is an awesome movie too!
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