TheKnothead
08-22-2006, 10:04 PM
Well...here goes...an idea that's been floating around in the back of my mind...probably should have stayed there...
Heather gradually became aware that something was wrong. She was on her back and she never slept that way. Restlessly, she tried to turn over and couldn't. Rousing, she noticed other things as well; her arms over head, an ache in her jaw and the strong scent of leather. Something was very wrong.
Heather's eyes flew open and were greeted by the image of a naked woman, bound securely to a narrow padded bench. Momentarily stunned, she took in the sight. A leather hood was cinched tightly over the woman's head with only her eyes and nose left open; a wide strap tightly sealed her mouth. Both arms were pulled up along side her head, bent at the elbows and bound at each wrist with five or six turns of coarse rope to the legs of the bench. Additonal bands of rope at the biceps cinched her upper arms to the bench as well.
Heather's eyes widened as they quickly traveled down the bound woman's form. More strands of tightly pulled rope, some just above and some just below, captured and compressed her generous breasts. Two smaller strands, loosly twisted, cut straight across, trapping her dainty nipples between them and had been pulled tightly causing her flesh to bulge tautly between the other bindings. Two more bands of coarse rope secured the woman's waist and hips to the padded bench. Her long legs had been folded, ankles bound to her thighs. A narrower band, cinched just below her bent knees, first raised, then spread wide, then held fast into place her bound legs.
Panic welled up inside when she finally realized that she was looking at her reflection in a mirror. Flooding, her senses reeled; the hood closed in on her tightly, the gag packed full her sealed mouth and every band of rope could suddenly be felt. Heather's head arched up and instantly she met with a full burning pain in her bottom. Every muscle in her body went taut and she struggled fiercly against the unyeilding bonds. Kicking her legs, twisting her arms, arching and straining and blindly shaking her head, Heather tried desperately to wrest something free. Nothing gave way and the pain only increased as the ropes held her fast in their hot embrace. Wildly searching fingers clawed for a way out; a knot, a loose strand--anything! Her nails could just lightly brush at the strands trapping her wrists. Heather screamed out for help, for all that she was worth, but the large rubber phalyus strapped tighly in place, reduced it to a hum.
Black shapes dancing before her eyes, heart racing and pounding in her ears, and gasping for air; Heather realized that she had to calm down. Panting breaths, snatched in quickly through her nose, were all she could get. Focusing on breathing, Heather ceased struggling and sagged back into the bench. Succumbing to the ropes binding her, she tried to re-group. She tried to force air around the gag, but it was too tight. She tried to bite through it, but found it too resiliant. Closing her eyes, she took several long slow breaths and noticed that the pain in her bottom had eased along with her struggling, though it, like her mouth was filled full with a plug. The ropes at her breasts tugged a bit deeper and chaffed ever so slightly as she pulled in sweet air.
Shaken, but breathing easier again, Heather surveyed her predicament. Keenly aware of the plug lodged in her butt and that it was somehow connected to the hood, she carefully turned her head and peered over her bound arms at the room. It was small, dimly lit and felt cool against her flushed skin. It seemed to be a basement or cellar and she couldn't tell where the light was coming from. There wasn't a door that she could see and assumed it to be above her head, but she couldn't look that way, so she didn't know for sure. There was a sturdy old table to her right with more rope on coiled it and some cabinets along the brick walls to her left. There was the mirror in the ceiling along with several heavy rings. Within the constricting embrace of the hood, she could smell only leather and all she could hear was her still pounding heart.
Heather scanned her bound reflection in the mirror again, to see if there was any hope for escape. Allowing her eyes to trail down her bound form, past her hips, they came upon something she'd missed before that made her struggle anew. Her eyes locked on a large mechanized dildo, poised just nudging the lips of her bare vagina. She fought against the ropes to escape its menacing touch, but the dildo remained as it was, nestling just at her entrance. A familiar tightening and tingling formed deep in her belly, spreading warmth through her loins. Her nipples began swelling against the cords and the plug in her mouth seemed to grow. She struggled harder and the ropes around her chest pulled and tugged at her breasts.
Angrily, Heather tried to repress the stirrings within. She was still somewhat amazed and dismayed that the thought of being helplessly ravaged could excite her so. She'd seen these "machines" online; she'd seen all of these things before. She'd gazed at the pictures and imagined her plight. She'd tried to deny these urges and chase them away, but they'd haunted her, growing ever stronger. Still, shaving her "pussy" had been the most deliciously kinky thing she'd ever done. And yet, she'd recently broken up with her boyfriend, when he just couldn't understand that these cravings were a part of her, like it or not.
Suddenly it it occurred to Heather that whoever had done this, had wanted her to see; to watch herself helpless, trapped in her dreams. She gushed at the thought and struggled again, unable to take her eyes off of the mirror. Her best efforts showed little effect, but watching her futile struggles fanned the flames deep within and her skin to glow hot. Wriggling her hips and arching her back against the taut ropes created wonderful sensations throughout as her fear ebbed and lust overtook. Moving her head side to side, jiggled the plug pressed up inside, causing spasms of pleasure to shoot all around.
A whirring sound startled Heather breaking her reverie. She froze. It came from the machine. In facinated horror she stared as the whole machine began to glide slowly forward. She screamed into the gag and wrenched at her bonds, but relentlessly it pressed its way in. Deeper and deeper, inch by slow inch, filling her full it finally came to a stop. The whirring changed tone. Heather could now see a vibrator with a little knob on the end, slowly swinging down from the machine approaching her mound. It too slid smoothly into place, resting lightly against her. The whirring stopped.
Fearing to move, Heather lay waiting, absorbing the new fullness inside her and the knob against her mound. She burned with desire and her fingers nervously twitched, as did the muscles in her thighs. Thinking she'd heard something, she jerked up her head, forgetting for an instant; her ass spasmed sending little electric tremors coursing through her body. She shuddered in both fear and excitement.
Without warning the vibrator sprang to life on her mound; Heather wailed out in suprise biting down on the gag. Her hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against the mad buzzing. The massive dildo deep inside began to retreat and she clamped down wetly, impulsively. Nearly free, it reversed direction and surged back in.
Heather's eyes closed as she was plunged into a sea of sensations; aching nipples and throbbing breasts, cock filled ass, pussy, and mouth, the maddening vibrations on her sweet mound and the merciless ropes that bound her helpless and exposed to it all.
Writhing in ecstatic delight within the confines her bonds, Heather rode out the storm, shrieking into her gag in rapturous abandon. Beyond what she'd ever imagined, each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. The storm pounded on, crushing and slamming her farther and farther into a world all her own. Drowning in the wash and the roar, straining and moaning and thrashing about, she threw back her head and exploded into the darkness.
When she roused again, Heather was in her bed. Confused, she sprang up, flipped on the bed-side lamp and searched wildly around the bedroom with her eyes. Everything was as it had been when she had gone to sleep. "Had it all been a dream?" she'd queried silently, feeling an odd sense of disappointment.
Reaching for the light switch again, she noticed her wrist; red marks encircled it. Quickly glancing down, Heather found that across her breasts were more of the bright red marks and still dimpled grooves where the ropes had been. Running her fingers lightly over the tender dents in her skin, a sly smile spread slowly across her face.
Heather gradually became aware that something was wrong. She was on her back and she never slept that way. Restlessly, she tried to turn over and couldn't. Rousing, she noticed other things as well; her arms over head, an ache in her jaw and the strong scent of leather. Something was very wrong.
Heather's eyes flew open and were greeted by the image of a naked woman, bound securely to a narrow padded bench. Momentarily stunned, she took in the sight. A leather hood was cinched tightly over the woman's head with only her eyes and nose left open; a wide strap tightly sealed her mouth. Both arms were pulled up along side her head, bent at the elbows and bound at each wrist with five or six turns of coarse rope to the legs of the bench. Additonal bands of rope at the biceps cinched her upper arms to the bench as well.
Heather's eyes widened as they quickly traveled down the bound woman's form. More strands of tightly pulled rope, some just above and some just below, captured and compressed her generous breasts. Two smaller strands, loosly twisted, cut straight across, trapping her dainty nipples between them and had been pulled tightly causing her flesh to bulge tautly between the other bindings. Two more bands of coarse rope secured the woman's waist and hips to the padded bench. Her long legs had been folded, ankles bound to her thighs. A narrower band, cinched just below her bent knees, first raised, then spread wide, then held fast into place her bound legs.
Panic welled up inside when she finally realized that she was looking at her reflection in a mirror. Flooding, her senses reeled; the hood closed in on her tightly, the gag packed full her sealed mouth and every band of rope could suddenly be felt. Heather's head arched up and instantly she met with a full burning pain in her bottom. Every muscle in her body went taut and she struggled fiercly against the unyeilding bonds. Kicking her legs, twisting her arms, arching and straining and blindly shaking her head, Heather tried desperately to wrest something free. Nothing gave way and the pain only increased as the ropes held her fast in their hot embrace. Wildly searching fingers clawed for a way out; a knot, a loose strand--anything! Her nails could just lightly brush at the strands trapping her wrists. Heather screamed out for help, for all that she was worth, but the large rubber phalyus strapped tighly in place, reduced it to a hum.
Black shapes dancing before her eyes, heart racing and pounding in her ears, and gasping for air; Heather realized that she had to calm down. Panting breaths, snatched in quickly through her nose, were all she could get. Focusing on breathing, Heather ceased struggling and sagged back into the bench. Succumbing to the ropes binding her, she tried to re-group. She tried to force air around the gag, but it was too tight. She tried to bite through it, but found it too resiliant. Closing her eyes, she took several long slow breaths and noticed that the pain in her bottom had eased along with her struggling, though it, like her mouth was filled full with a plug. The ropes at her breasts tugged a bit deeper and chaffed ever so slightly as she pulled in sweet air.
Shaken, but breathing easier again, Heather surveyed her predicament. Keenly aware of the plug lodged in her butt and that it was somehow connected to the hood, she carefully turned her head and peered over her bound arms at the room. It was small, dimly lit and felt cool against her flushed skin. It seemed to be a basement or cellar and she couldn't tell where the light was coming from. There wasn't a door that she could see and assumed it to be above her head, but she couldn't look that way, so she didn't know for sure. There was a sturdy old table to her right with more rope on coiled it and some cabinets along the brick walls to her left. There was the mirror in the ceiling along with several heavy rings. Within the constricting embrace of the hood, she could smell only leather and all she could hear was her still pounding heart.
Heather scanned her bound reflection in the mirror again, to see if there was any hope for escape. Allowing her eyes to trail down her bound form, past her hips, they came upon something she'd missed before that made her struggle anew. Her eyes locked on a large mechanized dildo, poised just nudging the lips of her bare vagina. She fought against the ropes to escape its menacing touch, but the dildo remained as it was, nestling just at her entrance. A familiar tightening and tingling formed deep in her belly, spreading warmth through her loins. Her nipples began swelling against the cords and the plug in her mouth seemed to grow. She struggled harder and the ropes around her chest pulled and tugged at her breasts.
Angrily, Heather tried to repress the stirrings within. She was still somewhat amazed and dismayed that the thought of being helplessly ravaged could excite her so. She'd seen these "machines" online; she'd seen all of these things before. She'd gazed at the pictures and imagined her plight. She'd tried to deny these urges and chase them away, but they'd haunted her, growing ever stronger. Still, shaving her "pussy" had been the most deliciously kinky thing she'd ever done. And yet, she'd recently broken up with her boyfriend, when he just couldn't understand that these cravings were a part of her, like it or not.
Suddenly it it occurred to Heather that whoever had done this, had wanted her to see; to watch herself helpless, trapped in her dreams. She gushed at the thought and struggled again, unable to take her eyes off of the mirror. Her best efforts showed little effect, but watching her futile struggles fanned the flames deep within and her skin to glow hot. Wriggling her hips and arching her back against the taut ropes created wonderful sensations throughout as her fear ebbed and lust overtook. Moving her head side to side, jiggled the plug pressed up inside, causing spasms of pleasure to shoot all around.
A whirring sound startled Heather breaking her reverie. She froze. It came from the machine. In facinated horror she stared as the whole machine began to glide slowly forward. She screamed into the gag and wrenched at her bonds, but relentlessly it pressed its way in. Deeper and deeper, inch by slow inch, filling her full it finally came to a stop. The whirring changed tone. Heather could now see a vibrator with a little knob on the end, slowly swinging down from the machine approaching her mound. It too slid smoothly into place, resting lightly against her. The whirring stopped.
Fearing to move, Heather lay waiting, absorbing the new fullness inside her and the knob against her mound. She burned with desire and her fingers nervously twitched, as did the muscles in her thighs. Thinking she'd heard something, she jerked up her head, forgetting for an instant; her ass spasmed sending little electric tremors coursing through her body. She shuddered in both fear and excitement.
Without warning the vibrator sprang to life on her mound; Heather wailed out in suprise biting down on the gag. Her hips bucked involuntarily, grinding against the mad buzzing. The massive dildo deep inside began to retreat and she clamped down wetly, impulsively. Nearly free, it reversed direction and surged back in.
Heather's eyes closed as she was plunged into a sea of sensations; aching nipples and throbbing breasts, cock filled ass, pussy, and mouth, the maddening vibrations on her sweet mound and the merciless ropes that bound her helpless and exposed to it all.
Writhing in ecstatic delight within the confines her bonds, Heather rode out the storm, shrieking into her gag in rapturous abandon. Beyond what she'd ever imagined, each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing over her. The storm pounded on, crushing and slamming her farther and farther into a world all her own. Drowning in the wash and the roar, straining and moaning and thrashing about, she threw back her head and exploded into the darkness.
When she roused again, Heather was in her bed. Confused, she sprang up, flipped on the bed-side lamp and searched wildly around the bedroom with her eyes. Everything was as it had been when she had gone to sleep. "Had it all been a dream?" she'd queried silently, feeling an odd sense of disappointment.
Reaching for the light switch again, she noticed her wrist; red marks encircled it. Quickly glancing down, Heather found that across her breasts were more of the bright red marks and still dimpled grooves where the ropes had been. Running her fingers lightly over the tender dents in her skin, a sly smile spread slowly across her face.