Subject: STORY "Selected ObBondage Stories" (NC, S&M, Long, Repost) Keywords: NC nonconsent rape torture repost Long Some pieces I've used as ObBondage (Obligatory Bondage) comments in long messages to alt.sex.bondage containing minimal bondage content follow. I hope that you enjoy them. Warning: Most of these are nonconsensual stories of abduction and rape and/or torture. Please don't read them if that type of story is disturbing to you. _________________________________________________________________ "Mary" The snow was starting to cover Mary as she lay bound and hooded by the side of the road. On this dark and (snow) stormy night there had been no traffic since she had been dumped from the van, and if any passed now it was unlikely anyone would spot her. If she was going to survive this night she would have to save herself, and as this fact sunk in she began to shake off the shock and stupor that she had felt since the assault. She could hardly be blamed for her reaction. A simple milk/bread/paper (all of which she already had in stock) run before the storm had become a nightmare. With everyone else in the city having the same idea, she'd been forced to park at some distance from the store, and as she walked back to her car, arms laden and her attention on looking for solid footing, she'd been any easy mark for the teenaged boys who appeared from nowhere and dropped a cloth laundry bag over her head before dragging her into a van. For the next several hours the van had driven slowly over an erratic route while several unseen men had pawed and penetrated Mary, stopping only when it was time to switch drivers so the previous driver could take a turn on her. When they were finally sated they bound her ankles and stuffed a oily rag in her mouth (her wrists had been tied behind her immediately after she was pulled into the van) and shoved her out of the slowly moving van. At least they had pulled up her pants and buttoned her coat before dumping her, she had thought as she lay stunned in the snow. Only later did she realize they were probably just trying to make her death slower. As she came to realize that there would be no help and she needed to fight or freeze, Mary shook off her stupor (and a lot of snow) and began a serious struggle with her bonds. Fortunately they'd been in such a rush to get at her that her gloves had been left on when her hands were tied, so she still had some feeling in her cold hands, and the gloves saved her wrists from lacerations as she franticly twisted them to and fro until the ropes loosened a bit and she was able to pull a hand through it's surrounding nylon loop. She pulled off the hood, and the biting cold wind struck her head, wet from her exertions and from the fact that she'd had her hat on under the cloth bag. She needed to find shelter soon. When her stiffening fingers finally managed to free her ankles, she stood up unsteadily and looked around her. She'd been unable to keep track of where the van had gone, and she didn't recognize the place. It was an isolated road, dark and empty. She had no idea where she was or where to go. Since the van had sped away after dumping her she knew which way it had gone, so she turned the other way and stumbled off into the night. Mary had no idea how long or far she had walked before she saw a house, it's lights on, at the end of a long driveway, and trudged towards the lights. Reaching it, she pounded on the door as hard as the petite and exhausted woman was able, and tried to shout but only managed a weak croak. "Who's there ?", a woman's voice inquired. Hope giving her strength, Mary was able to call out, "Please help me, I've been raped". After a moment a matronly face appeared in the front window, and checked the front of the house, then the door opened to a chain's length and a woman glanced at Mary's trembling form before opening the door and helping her through the doorway and into a nearby chair. "Thank you, thank you", Mary gasped. "Hell", a man's voice snorted, "she's about as appealing as a drowned rat, son. I thought you said she was a looker". "A few hours ago she was", a familiar voice replied, as Mary turned with a start towards the next room, where a middle aged man and four teenage boys were seated around a table, "thaw her out and clean her up and you'll see", the voice continued, while a pair of handcuffs locked about Mary's wrists, and the woman grabbed her by the hair and dragged her through two rooms while Mary screamed "NO ! OH GOD NO, NO, PLEASE NO" until she was tossed into a closet and the closet door locked, and as Mary began to sob, a sweet voice pleasantly commanded, "Now all you boys just sit back down, there'll be no dessert until after you've finished your supper". --------- ObBondage 2: "Bad Cop" A young housewife had just gotten her husband off to work and her kids off to school when there was a knock on the door. She opened the door to see a uniformed policeman, who asked "Maam, is everything alright here ?" "Yes", she said, "Why do you ask?" "Well, Maam, I don't wish to alarm you, but we've had reports of a rapist spotted in this neighborhood. Could I come in and check your house ?" "Certainly", she said, opening the door to let him in. "Do you really think there might a rapist in the house ?" "Yes, maam, I do", he said, extracting a roll of tape. With a quick move he reached over her head and covered her mouth with tape. She reached for the tape but the man in the uniform seized her hands, and tripped her, and she hit the floor with his knee in her back and this knocked the wind out of her. Stunned, she offered no resistance as her hands were cuffed behind her back and the tape was wrapped around her head many times, until her mouth and eyes and all of her face but her nostrils were securely covered. Cutting the tape, he seized her ankles and taped them together, then dragged her to the bottom of the stairs. "Now, Madame, crawl up the steps, then squirm in the direction of your bedroom". Her response was indistinct though so much tape, but sounded quite angry, which, taken with her lack of movement, made it appear to be a refusal, so the man drew his baton and liberally stroked her thighs and buttocks. She wanted to cry, but realized that if she did and her nose ran while her mouth was sealed she might possibly suffocate. "I can't risk being hurt too much in this condition", she thought, and when the rain of blows ceased, she started twisting her body to make the difficult ascent up the stairs with her wrists and ankles cuffed and taped. By putting her knees to one side and pushing upwards, then using a shoulder to hold her place while she pulled her knees up to the next step, she slowly slithered up the stairs while her captor followed, occasionally prodding her with the baton and ordering her to hurry. Reaching the top of the stairs and dragging herself unto the next floor, she stopped to rest, but a toe in her ribs made it clear there was to be no rest, and she turned right and started slithering down the carpeted hallway. With her eyes taped she couldn't tell where she was, and she had no experience to tell her how far she might have slithered. It felt like she had crawled for miles. "Halt", her uniformed captor ordered (he couldn't really be a cop, could he ? she wondered. "Damn, I wish I'd thought to check his nameplate"). He rolled her over on her back, the hard metal of the handcuffs pressing into her kidneys. She heard a click as he grasped the neck of her shirt, then slipped a knife under it, slicing it down the middle and shoving the fabric aside before cutting off her bra. "It occurs to me that we've been passing up a chance for such nice rug burns". He rolled her over on her belly, grasped her ankles, and dragged her back up the hallway, the carpet grabbing at her bare breasts as she was pulled along. "OK", he said as he dropped her ankles, "start crawling again", punctuating his command with a stroke of his nightstick across her shoulders. She began squirming again. Shit, she thought, I never realized they made carpets and brillo pads from the same material. While dragging her naked flesh over this unexpectedly abrasive surface held no appeal to her, the frequent blows from the baton reinforcing her captor's command to "Crawl, bitch" were a strong motivator and she moved forwards for another eternity until his foot came down on her neck. "Far enough. This looks like your bedroom". No, she thought, no, please, not in our bed. The toe of his shoe tapped her left temple. "That way", he ordered. She hesitated, and a harder kick landed on her ribs. "NOW". She bent to her right and began crawling into her bedroom.... ---- "Bands" The couple took a two week vacation in July, and used it for bondage play. Having spending most of their free time that summer in their dark dungeon, they were both a bit pale, so during their vacation they decide that she would spend the days spreadeagled on the lawn (they turned her over a couple times a day) while he: rubbed her with tanning lotion; stimulated her by hand, mouth, and vibrator; applied an assortment of clips, clamps, and cords; and, course, flogged and fucked her. One detail they decided on was that she would be blindfolded and gagged during the day (the gag being leather with a plastic tube leading into her mouth so she could be supplied with fluids (of various kinds, one of which helped keep her supplied with salt)). One of the effects of this was that she developed a nice even tan all over - except for pale bands across her eyes and across her (facial) cheeks and lips, a most interesting effect and conversation piece. They decided to maintain the appearence for a while, and let the bands of color on her face replace the wearing of a band of leather about her throat. ---------- "Downer" Story: "Downer", by SD (M/f, NC, extreme cruelty) The reporter's stories were becoming inconvenient. Her stories required inside information, and the inconvenienced people suspected a leak, so the young lady was ambushed by some masked assailants who hooded and handcuffed her and took her to an isolated airfield. While waiting for a plane to land she was stripped and whipped and questioned under bright lights, which gleamed off her pale, naked body as the frightened woman sweated under the hot lamps. But though frightened, crying and pleading for mercy with each stroke of the whip, she wouldn't reveal her source. Finally the plane arrived. While the small plastic packages were unloaded and the long wooden boxes loaded and the plane refueled, the naked woman was told she'd have one last chance to tell the naked truth. When the plane was loaded and refueled, the blindfolded, naked, and leashed woman was dragged to the plane, as the ground crew covetously admired her slender curves, while noting, some fearfully, some with pleasure, the angry stripes and welts which covered her body. She was taken into the plane and it lifted off. Her captors fastened her elbows together with some ty-wraps that had come with some electrical supplies, then tied her wrists tightly and brought the wrist rope up under her elbows rope, and attached the end to a winch and lifted her off her feet, her elbows now above her head as she screamed and cried and the movement of the plane rocked her from side to side and increased the terrible strain on her arms and shoulders and causes the sharp edged plastic to cut into her arms, and blood began trickling from her elbows. Once over water, her masked captors removed her blindfold and opened the cargo bay doors over which she hung. "We can end these stories two ways. One is by dropping you into the ocean. The other is by plugging the leak. Without him, you can't hurt us. The story of your abduction and torture will sell some papers, but you haven't seen anything that would be of use to the cops. You name your source, and when we confirm it we'll let you go. Otherwise, we'll let you go now". The woman looked down at the blue ocean so far below. Weak and frightened and in terrible pain, her reserves of strength and courage had been depleted. She thought to herself that her source was just a crook with a grudge, and that her stories could do nothing to prevent crime from happening. Were some bums in jail a little sooner than they would otherwise wind up there worth leaving her young child motherless, she wondered. As the winch started to turn, lowering her out of the plane, she screamed out "Stop, I'll tell you, please don't drop me !". They stopped the winch, and say, "Tell us, and we won't drop you". She gave the name, and one of her captors said "That's who we thought it was, thanks for the confirmation", and the winch started to lower her again. "Please, no !", she screamed, franticly, "You said you wouldn't drop me if I talked ! I talked ! Please, you promised, please don't drop me". "We always honor our agreements", a captor answered. "We aren't going to drop you. We're going to lower you and let you hang from the bottom of the plane. If your arms don't tear off and drop you into the ocean, and the windburn doesn't kill you, then dragging you along the tarmac when we land should do the job. You didn't really think you could cross us and live, did you ? Fool. You can't stop us. No one can stop us. It must really be a downer to be only now facing that fact", he said, as her feet dipped beneath the plane and she felt the wind whip her bare legs, and the winch continued to turn. ------------- "Why ?" (NC, M/f, F/f) by SD It was nearly 6:00 PM when Jean Sugarmann left work. In the normal course of events she would have been home with her family by 6:30. This was not a normal day, however, and she never reached her car, being stopped in the nearly empty parking lot by an armed pair, a man and a woman. Mrs. Sugarmann was blindfolded, gagged, and her wrists and thumbs were cuffed behind her back. She was forced to kneel and to place her head on the wooden block on the floor by the woman's feet. The woman then placed her foot on Jean's neck and the barrel of a small caliber rifle to Jean's head and ordered her to be still and silent until further notice. After a short trip the van reached a warehouse. Pulling inside the warehouse, Jean was ordered to sit up, and a leash fastened around her neck. She was then ordered to stand, her walking shoes were replaced by the high heeled pumps in her bag, and her ankles were hobbled. She was then led from the van and through the warehouse until the group came to some stairs which the blindfolded and hobbled captive negotiated with difficulty, but which eventually brought her to a walk-in freezer. She was forced into the freezer (the temperature of which had been set so that it was quite cool, but well above freezing) and the freezer door closed. Her hands were then released, and she was ordered to remove her clothes. She seemed unwilling to comply with this order, and her captors began beating her with thin canes. Eventually she slid off her vest and her trembling hands moved to the buttons of her white blouse, and the beating stopped as she unbuttoned and then removed her blouse, and then unzipped and pushed down her blue, just-above-the knees skirt, and stood in her undergarments and heels. The resumption of the beating convinced her that a slip, bra, and panty hose were articles meeting the definition of clothing, and she removed the slip and bra and pushed the hose to her ankles, where the hobbles on her ankles prevented their further movement. Her captors took her arms and lay them across one another behind her back, then tightly bound them together. The hobbles were removed, followed by the removal of her hose, then she was forced to slip back into her shoes and to walk, shivering, further into the cold storage facility. When she reached a small stool a tug on her leash brought her to a stop, and she was order to lift her left leg, the ankle of which was tied to her thigh, and she was lifted onto the small stool, which was barely large enough for her one foot. A noose was lowered and tightened around her neck and she began urgent protests into her gag. "Shut up", she was ordered, as the gag was removed. "We're only interested in your screams, not your words. The next attempt to communicate will cost you your life". Her left shoe was removed, and her captors then began using short, stingy whips on her, working all over her long, slender leg and her slim frame, paying special attention to the medium sized breasts that created such a voluptuous appearence on so small and slender a body, as well as to her exposed left foot. The strokes were sharp but didn't carry the force to knock her off the stool, though her own futile efforts to move away from the whipping caused her to sway on her stool and nearly caused her to fall before she realized she had to remain still if she wanted to stay alive. Her apparent interest in remaining alive urged her tormentors on, and from all directions came the sharp whip tips to bite again and again into the cool surface of her foot and thigh and her buttocks, back, breasts and belly. She'd been screaming for some time, her screams echoing off the walls of the makeshift dungeon but going no further. Eventually Jean could no longer prevent the words from sneaking out between her shouts and sobs, and she cried out again and again "STOP - PLEASE STOP - WHY ? - WHAT DO YOU WANT ? - WHAT HAVE I DONE ? - WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ? - WHY ? - WHY ?". Despite this breach of orders, her captors took no overt steps to end her life. Finally tiring of her questions, the man caught her tongue with a pair of pliers, then stapled it to her upper lip. "All right, you want to know why we're doing this, what it is we want ? We want this to hurt so much that you will prefer to jump off the stool and strangle to death in that noose around your neck than bear the pain for another moment. "What have you done ?" I don't know, what have you done ? Did you think that what you've done or not done would keep you safe ? "Why you ?" Why not you ? Do you deserve to live any more than the next person who would have come out that door does ?". He then went back to stinging Jean's terribly sore breasts, and the evening hours were filled with the crack of leather on bare, cold flesh, and a woman's screams, which as the night wore on sometimes also cracked, and were often supplemented by laughing voices, until suddenly these sounds were replaced by the sound of rope rubbing on metal, and as that sound slowed, by the sound of two sets of footsteps leaving the room. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Assorted Images, mainly Femdom A man sits tied to a tubular chair, it's steel cold against his bare flesh, but he barely notices the cold of the tubes. Uppermost in his mind is the cold of his bare feet, which rest buried by ice cubes in a small tub. From his bound ankles a cord runs through a small hole in the tub and through a pulley to his testicles, and any attempt to raise his feet pulls cruelly on them. **************** A naked man lays on a hard floor, his hands tied behind him, his ankles bound and raised and a cord running from them to his penis, to which it is tightly and tautly attached. A woman strikes him rapidly and repeatedly across the upper back with a cane. When he starts to cry, she kneels by his head and says "You poor dear, would you like me to try something else ?" The gagged man nods his head in relief, only to look up in horror as she lights a blowtorch and begins moving the flame about near the soles of this feet. "Is this better, dear ?", she asks with a broad smile and a wicked gleam in her eyes, as the heat on his feet makes him try to move them away from the torch, cruelly pulling on his already stretched cock. ****** A naked man hangs by his handcuffed wrists. He holds his hobbled hindlimbs off the ground, letting the pressure rest on his wrists and shoulders for as long as possible, then lowers his feet to press his toes to the ground, but to raise himself enough to take the weight off his arms, he must stretch his already painfully stretched scrotal sac, tightly wrapped in thin cord pulled taut and tied to an "O" ring on the floor. When the pain in his balls becomes too great to bear, he raises his tied legs and hangs by his aching arms for a while. The woman has been watching in amusement. "Decisions, decisions", she says in a taunting voice. "Do you want to put pressure on your wrists, and risk not being able to use your hands again, *if* I ever let you out of here, or stretch your little balls some more, and risk losing them. Such hard decisions. I'll be kind and spare you the agony of making decisions", she said, and she took the short chain between his ankles and attached another chain to it, then pulled his feet well off the floor before yanking his head back and attaching the new chain to the ring of the leather training harness locked on his head. "Isn't that better ? Now you don't have to make any decisions. But you also aren't getting that delightful genitorture, are you ? I don't want you to feel deprived", she said, "but I surely enjoy being depraved", she added with a smile as she started turning his body as it hung in it's chains, turning it around and around and twisting and tightening the cord to his balls, pulling them further and further out as he groaned and squealed into his gag. "No more ? OK", she said, pushing him in the opposite direction from the one she had been, and watching him spin back to his original position. "Wasn't that fun ? Well, it was for me. Let's do it again", she said as she started turning him about again. "I wouldn't worry too much about what condition you'll be in when I let you go, love, cause I'm *never* going to let you go. Or, maybe I should say", she said as she released him and set him to spinning again, "that I'm never going to let you leave." ******** The woman jerked her left foot away as the electric prod touched the bare toes that her high-heeled sandals exposed, the action being transfered to a spiked paddle that swat her bare ass again, it's many sharp needles leaving small bleeding punctures, and she screamed, to the delight of the children. The little boy touched his cattleprod to the toes of her right foot, emulating his sister's action, and the foot jerked away. The action was involuntary, she knew all too well the pain that would result, but she couldn't stop moving in reaction to the touch of the cattleprods, and the action of her right foot's movement caused a spiked paddle to swat her bare breasts, adding to the already considerable number of small holes in then. The children's mother watched with amusement as the kids played with their new toy. They always broke them so quickly, she thought, but she enjoyed indulging them. Besides, she went through a lot of toys herself, she thought, glancing at the naked man who stood facing the pole, his hands chained to the top of it, his belt of chain attached to the pole, and his feet outstretched and fastened to rings in the platform. He was looking at the children's play with the busty slut, and despite himself he was becoming erect. He was resisting the desire, as he knew that the upward path of his penis was blocked by a set of very sharp needles, and if he became fully erect his arousal would be quickly deflated. Worse than that, the woman who had captured him (it had been so easy, but how could he have said no to anything that such a lovely creature asked ? Could anyone have resisted such a demigoddess ?) had shown him the device that would be used to cauterize the wounds and keep him alive a bit longer. The crocodile shaped pincers rested in the brazier where he could see it, the elongated snout made to fit around a penis of his width (even when cold, having the various pincers settle around his cock (while she looked for the right size) was quite unsettling; he could scarcely imagine how horrible it would feel hot. But he knew the woman's screams and the bouncing of her bloodied breasts would eventually overcome his will and turn his penis into a pincushion. Glancing at his blonde captor, her long hair glimmering in the light thrown by the hot coals, he saw her coolly studying him, and patiently waiting for him to impale himself. The children wouldn't break their toy before she broke his resistance, and there was no need to rush or hurry. *********************** The man stood spreadeagle, arms and legs chained to rings in the wall he faced, a wall lightly coated in wet clay through which a sharp electric current flowed. He had tried to keep away from it, but the floggings he'd received had either driven him into if was thud or made him jump into it with sting, and each time he had screamed and quickly jumped as far from the wall (a few inches) as his chains allowed, his captress had laughed. She'd been out of the dungeon for some time, though he couldn't judge the passage of time well. Long enough for him to recover some of his strength. Probably long enough for her arm to recover, he thought. But when she returned, she didn't pick up any of the whips. She strode slowly up to him, the sound of her heels on the cold stone floor echoing off the bare stone walls of the dungeon. "So much pain. Time for some pleasure", she whispered in his ear before nippling on it, and her fingers sought out his nipples and skillfully manipulated them. Her lips and toungue were very skilled, whether they were gliding over his face and neck or speaking aloud the images of his dreams or just making animal sounds of lustful desire, and he despite his fear his passion, and other things rose, and...his penis touched the clay and he screamed and spasmed and slumped twitching and whimpering in his chains, as she laughed again. "That was easy. Now that you know what's going to happen, it will be a little harder... ah, a little more difficult. But trust me, dear, you will arise again, and again, and again, until I get bored with your screams and whimpers, and that will take a long time, love", she said as she gently stroked his hair. "And when I do get bored with you, I'll raise the current, and bring you up one last time. And there's absolutely nothing you can do about it". ******************************************************* A painful twist (FemDom Story Idea) I finally get a chance to meet my Mistress. She's not quite what I expected, but it wasn't her looks that I was primarily interested in, so that's OK. We meet at a hotel and talk for awhile, and she speaks in depth and detail about matters raised in my messages, including the most private information. Then she says she has an idea she wants to try, and will I go along with it. I, of course, am very eager to please my Mistress, and agree. She leaves, but returns shortly in a nurse's uniform and wheelchair. She says she want to strap me into the wheel chair and roll me, in public bondage, down the street to a waiting van. I'm not much on public bondage, but she assure's me that this will barely draw a second look, and she really wants to do it, so I agree. She straps me in, and then says, since you're so bashful I'll bandage your face so no one will recognize you, and begins to do so. I don't think much of the idea, but don't wish to contradict my lady, and don't protest. Soon my head is swathed in bandages, and aside from being unrecognizeable (as much as people my size can be), I'm also effectively gagged and blindfolded. The trip to the van seems, so far as I can tell, to go uneventfully, but I can't see and my lady has for some reason ceased talking to me. As we ride along in the van I wonder what can account for this silence. We stop, and she rolls me into what seems to be a house, and leaves me alone for what seems like eternity. Finally, she removes the bandages, and I see that I'm in a very well supplied dungeon, one set up for very heavy players, which takes me a bit by surprise, but doesn't worry me, for I know she'll never harm me. Then the waist length blonde wig is removed to show a head of short black hair, and she gives me a scornful smile. "Hello, fool. <X> never came back this fall, she quit to stay in the East. As her boss, I had to clear out her email, and most interesting email it was. I decided to keep the account open and use it myself. At first I just thought I'd wreck your mind, but then I had this perfectly delightful idea. I'd complete the job of seducing you, then have you walk into my trap. Now I'm going to torture you till you plead for death, then I'll torture you some more, then take a break till tomorrow so you can spend a night thinking about how unbelievably terrible it was, before I start working on you for real. That's when I'm "gonna get medieval on ya". And then you know what I'm going to do ? Then I'm going to kill you, and when they find your body and wallet they'll check your home, and find all your correspondence with <X>, including the confirmation that she'd meet you at that hotel, where plenty of people will remember a woman with such long blonde hair. And you know what's really great ? <X> is in town for the weekend, just like you, sorta. That's why I told you to come here. She's have a very discreet assignation with a woman who will be having a tragic accident on the way home; bye bye alibi. When the cops learn she was in town, and you were in town to meet her, and ended up dying by inches, then read the correspondence between "you two", she'll be arrested, and there's a real good chance she'll get death for this. I'll come east to witness that; it'll be so much fun to watch that beautiful blonde bitch - oh, yes, she's quite stunning, what a pity you never got to see her - squirming on the gurney when the poison begins to take effect". "Well, time to get started", she says, as she cuts away my clothes and twists a cord tightly around my scrotum, and uses the cord to pull the wheelchair further into the dungeon. -------------------------------------------------------------------- [Note: the following two fragments were never ObBondage entries, but this seems a good place to include them] "The Last Days" (fragment;unfinished) by SD Warning: The story that follows has no relation to the BDSM lifestyle. It's an evil story about evil people doing evil things to people without their consent, and if you aren't interested in reading such a story, please stop reading now. There's going to be rape and torture and murder and while I won't have space to break every taboo I'm not going to observe any of them. Please believe me it's going to be very rough stuff, so if that's not your taste in fiction, stop reading now. Please. Part 1 Coming into South Baratan was pretty easy, since everyone else was trying to get out. The decade long war with North Baratan was coming to a close, one appropriately brutal to this long and savage conflict. Since everyone in the SB government, army, and security force expected to be shot when the North took over - if not by the ruthless leaders of North Baratan, who would want no leadership around which an opposition could coalesce, then by the people of the South who had suffered under the brutality of the current regime - South Baratan was making a determined resistance. At least those with no resources were putting up a fight, some just to delay the inevitable, some until they could steal enough to pay their way out when the defeat, the inevitability of which could no longer be denied, finally came. Those who already had stolen enough were busy transfering funds and family overseas. As this included all the top government officials, the government was effectively being run by those midlevel officials who were still trying to get theirs, and they were getting desperate. All of which suited me fine. Desperate peoples' price went down. Of course, the integrity of the local officials had alway been pretty cheap. Most things were in Baratan. I'd met an old contact in the Interior Ministry. A couple cashiers checks from the trading house of a well known overseas Baratani family, one for a moderate sum of dollars, the other for an immoderate sum in Swiss francs, made him quite hospitable. The larger check was dated 90 days from today. He didn't need to be told that the check wouldn't be any good unless I made it out of Baratan. I had quite a few of those, and soon there where a lot of officials who had a real strong interest in my returning home alive. After that I could have the Krugerrands delivered; cashiers checks worked at one level, but as you went down the ladder cash and gold, especially gold, worked wonders. I never holidayed in Baratan without gold. This might be my last Baratan holiday; it would have to be special. The University had been shut down again last month, with the usual roundup of the student leaders. It was amazing how many women became student leaders in such a patriarchal society. Most of them were holding up pretty well; some of the clever ones might have figured this was a good time to get thrown in jail, as in a couple months the government would be gone and political prisoners would be heroes to the new government. If they'd known more about their own government they'd have known that wasn't going to happen. Six young ladies now stood against the walls of this windowless room in the local Lubyanka, their arms outstretched and chained to rings installed above the level of their heads. A young man knelt in chains in the middle of the small room. At my signal the guard standing next to him brought the sword down across the left side of his head and his head rolled across the floor as the girls screamed into their gags and futilely struggled in their chains. I quickly scooped up the head and held it before one of the screaming beauties so she had a chance to observe the twitching of the face. "This is the one that betrayed you", I shouted into his ear, and observed her madly shaking her head "No". One of the fun things about Baratani college students is that they all speak English. Another is that they all seem to be studying literature or law, and the University doesn't require any physiology courses for those majors. I tore open what remained of her blouse, exposing a pair of small but lovely breasts, then took a short rope with hooks tied to either end and drove the hooks into either temple of the severed head, then put the rope around the girl's neck so that the still twitching face rested in her cleavage. She started shaking madly as she tried to get the head off her, but a baton in the solar plexus knocked the fight out of her. "Let the poor man have some fun, dear", I said. "Now, all you traitorous bitches shut up and listen", I said for all to hear. "You have all betrayed your country by your subversive activities, and there is no punishment too severe for your crimes. But because of your youth, a forgiving government has asked me to attempt your reeducation. I have little time and many clients such as yourselves, and, if you are not willing to cooperate, then I have been authorized to administer appropriate punishment, as I did with your incorrigible comrade", I said, gesturing towards the bleeding form, noting as I did so that the anticoagulants had worked well and the blood was pouring nicely from the stump of a neck, noting also that the room was tilted and the blood was running towards number three, who had already moved her shackled feet as far away from the flow as the chains permitted; I estimated it would reach the toes of her stockinged feet in about two minutes. "Your training will begin tomorrow", I continued, "use the night to consider your guilt and to contemplate how lucky you are to have this chance. I trust you will not throw it away". With that I exitted the room, followed by the guards I had rented from the warden when I had bought the prisoners I wanted to play with, and left the captives to consider their situation. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Password (unfinished) by SD Warning: The following story describes nonconsensual abduction and torture. If this is offensive to you, please stop reading now. It had been frustrating day spent in meetings that went nowhere, and it was shaping up as an equally frustrating night. There was nothing to do at night in this quiet northern California town. The hotel was nearly empty - how many people could there be who wanted to come to this place - and wasn't even equipped for PCs, so Patricia couldn't read her email or access her favorite BBS. Oh, well, she'd go to bed early and get an early start tomorrow. She could be home in a few hours if she got out of here early and beat the traffic to the airport in SF. She'd told the office she would be here for a few days, but one day of being kept waiting for meetings in which no one said anything was enough to convince her this trip was a waste of time. She had no idea why they'd invited her up here; they obviously weren't interested in her firm's services. She'd tried to place a call to the office to say she'd be leaving tomorrow, but the switchboard kept telling her the lines were busy. If she found her subordinates were calling the WHIP line again, they'd get all the punishment they could ever want. She'd turn in now; glancing out the window at the darkened stores and empty streets, it looked like everyone else in town was already in bed. She was startled out of her dream to find her a towel over her nose and mouth, then she descended into darkness. She awakened in what seemed to be the office of a kinky gynecologist. Not that she could see much of it. There were bright, hot lights to either side of and above her head, and the blinding white light was about all she could see. It was too bright to bear so she closed her eyes. What made it seem a gy's office was that she was in stirrups, but this was the first time she'd had her ankles strapped into them. Patricia was laying naked on a table with her feet up and locked and straps across her waist and chest. The strap across her waist had additions to it for her wrists; she tried pulling her hands out, but they were buckled too tightly. She tried to shake the stirrups loose and to move the straps, but nothing gave. She wasn't getting out of this until whoever put her here chose to release her. "Nice to see you're awake, Ms.V" came from someplace near her; she opened her eyes but could still see nothing so she closed them again. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing ? Don't you know this is kidnapping ?" she said. "Who I am is not important, I think I'm conducting an interrogation, and yes, I know this is a kidnapping. I'm hoping you'll be sensible so it doesn't become something worse". "An interrogation ? What is it that I might know that anyone would want to interrogate me ? You must have mistaken me for someone else, please let me go. I won't tell anyone about this." "That's correct, you won't. But you're not correct about the mistake, or about you not knowing anything valuable. A certain LA businessman of your aquaintance was playing a game with you and a Master you know well. This game involved torturing him until he revealed a certain password. The password he placed in an envelop to have beaten out of him was, foolishly, a genuine password, one that permits access to a large fund he manages. The Master destroyed the envelope after your friend gave up the password, but both the Master and you heard it. The Master cannot be located at this time; should the businessman disappear or be found dead the password would surely be changed. This means that you are the only source for a bit of data worth tens of millions of dollars, and you are going to tell us what it is. If you are smart you'll tell me now and spare yourself any further discomfort, if not, ... you'll still tell me". "Yeah, well what happens if I do tell you ?", the victim asked. "I can see you realize that you would be a loose end that could cost us millions should you talk. Obviously we can't release you. But don't worry, we aren't going to kill you. We have made arrangements with a special house in Bancock to deliver you there. They offer discrete services to men who like a helpless victim. In a couple years we'll have siphoned enough money out of the fund, untraceably, to all retire wealthy. All you have to do is survive two years of daily torture and sexual service and you'll be free". Sure, she thought. If they're telling the truth, and if I survive in that hellhole for two whole years, and if they're successful, and if they remember to make a call, and if the bordello will surrender an asset, then I'll be free. Chance of all that is about zero. I've got to hold out till a can find a way out of this, she thought. "Well, Ms. V, what do you say ?" "Look, when I'm in a scene I'm pretty distracted, I wouldn't notice or remember a word of what was said". "For both our sakes, dear lady, I hope you're lying. Fortunately, we have time to find out. Your foolish friend is on vacation, and you're not expected back for several days. This gives us plenty of time to play before we must have the password". "First let's make certain you're going into this with your pretty eyes open", her tormentor said as he pulled Patricia's left eye open and clamped it up, then did the same to her right, subjecting her hazel eyes to the painfully bright lights. The appliance fitted about her head to hold the clamps also had two thin tubes, which started dripping into her eyes. "Just a saline solution very close to human tears. There'll be a drip in an alternating eye each ten seconds. We don't want your eyeballs to dry out. You WILL be blind if you look into this light too long, but that will take a while, and I'm sure you'll come around before then. I hope you do realize that neither your value to us nor your value to your new home-to-be is dependent on your retaining your vision. They might even prefer a blind victim that none of their American guests need worry will someday identify them. I hope you see the light before your obstinance does any lasting damage to your vision". "I always like to start with the old standbys", he said as he brought out a couple nasty alligator clamps. He fingered Patricia's nipples till they stood up some more, then applied the clamps to her nipples. She gasped and shuddered as the teeth bit into her sensitive flesh. He then applied clothes pins liberally to her breasts and belly and sides and down to her buttocks and thighs. He attached a device containing a pair of large, tight chrome clamps with serrated edges onto the table, then fastened one clamp onto each pussy lip, wringing a cry from her other lips. He then spread her labia and began fingering her, gently caressing her clitoris, slowly, rhythmicly, with gradually increasing speed and pressure. Her hips were one of the few parts of Patricia's body that still had any range of motion, and as he continued manipulating her, she began to moan and her hips began to grind. Doing so stretched her labia in their clamps, but she couldn't help trying to increase the friction on her clit. "OOOO - PLEASE - AHHHH", she said, despite her best efforts to resist her growing excitement. "We could have so much fun if you'd just say the word, Patricia. There are a great many ways I could make you happy, if you'd just cooperate. But if you won't, there are many more ways to make scream", he said as he released her clitoris and grasped and twisted a nipple clamp. "ARGH - OOOO - GOD - IIIEEEE - PLEASE -AAAAA - STOP - OHH - PLEASE STOP - AAAAA". "I can make you say the same things in many ways. I'd so much rather do it with pleasure than pain. Tell me the password, Patricia. Please tell me, you can't think I enjoy doing this to you". "To hell you don't". "Heh, you're right, I do enjoy hurting you, dear. I can go on doing this all night. Can you hold out as long ?". He had the other clamp now and was twisting both and she was screaming and crying and madly bucking against the unyielding restraints. "PLEASE STOP PLEASE I'LL FUCK I'LL SUCK OH GOD NO PLEASE STOP I'LL MAKE YOU SO HAPPY PLEEESE I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE ! OH GOD THEY'RE BLEEDING - YOU'RE RIPPING THEM OFF ! YOU'RE KILL ME - UGHH ! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT ME TO !" "I WANT YOU TO TELL ME THE PASSWORD !" "I DON'T KNOW IT, I SWEAR TO GOD I DON'T KNOW IT, I'D TELL YOU IF I COULD, OH GOD I WISH I COULD". He stopped twisting her nipples. "I don't believe you, Ms. V, but you're right, if I keep this up your nips will be torn off, and I have other uses for them". He removed the clamps and the increased blood flow in her bruised and bleeding nipples made the pain even worse. As she lay sobbing quietly, he stepped away and opened a cabinet, the sound filling her with dread as she imagined so many dire instruments that he might be withdrawing. When he returned, it was with a bottle of antipseptic and an astrigent cream. He grasped her bloodied right nipple and opened the wound as far as possible and poured the antiseptic directly into it, making her gasp, and repeated the process on her left nipple, bringing a yelp. He then rubbed the burning astringent cream into her nipples. "Well, how do you feel so far, Ms. V ? I'll let you think over your position a bit. No matter what happens, you're going to be held here for a few days before we ship you overseas. We can have a lot of fun before you become a part of "the scene" that's part of "the life". Or I can spend that time hurting you. If I haven't made you talk by then, we'll know you don't know what the password is, and you'll still go overseas. We've already accepted the payment for you, and we won't give it back, not if that's all we're going to make from this affair. It won't bother them if you show up somewhat the worse for wear. By the way, in case you've any thoughts that it would be better to hang tough and die here than to go overseas: you're probably right, it would be. But it won't happen; it's not an option. YOU HAVE NO OPTIONS. You can resist and struggle and give me grief, and cause yourself a lot of avoidable pain, but in the end your fate will be the same no matter what you do". With that he removed the reminder of the clamps and pins from Patricia's body, allowing the resumption of the blood flow return pain to parts that had been approaching blissful numbness, and left her to her thoughts. She lay there trembling despite the heat and sweating as she shivered. The eye drips seemed a pointless effort, as so many tears had come from her burning eyes and so much sweat had poured into them that there was little prospect of them drying out. She lay there and tried franticly to think of some way out of this, but could see none. She lay there and remembered every device she had ever felt, or seen, or heard of, and imagined each of them was waiting beyond the white wall that filled her eyes. She lay immobile and helpless and imagined unimaginable pain. Her heart was pounding and the fear ate away a cold hollow space in her stomach, but her chest was hot and her loins were throbbing. Her mouth was bone dry while her crotch was moist, not entirely from perspiration. Feelings of dread and desire and expectations of pain and pleasure intermingled, and time seemed to slow as she waited for the session to resume. -------------------------------------------- END The ASB FAQ, also pertinent to SSB, is available from the WWW at: http://www.unrealities.com/adult/asb/faq.htm The soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm charter is available at: http://www.mindspring.com/~frites/charter.htm ************************************************************************ Steven S. Davis * sd@magenta.com * sdupland@delphi.com * ssdavis@ot.com Homepage, vanilla: http://links.magenta.com/~sd Homepage, pistachio: http://links.magenta.com/lmnop/users/sd.html