The Brass Bedstead (b&d) Copyright Albert Vines 2002. All rights reserved. This story may be copied or posted, without changes or omissions, for non-commercial purposes only (meaning no charges, no profits, which rules out a lot of deadhead pseudo free sites). Please keep the author tag attached along with this notice, and let me know where you've sent it or if you like it: albert.vines@yahoo.com Disclaimer: This story contains graphic descriptions of sex. It is definitely NOT for anyone under 21 or who is offended by such material. This story is fictional and any resemblance to anyone dead or alive is purely coincidental. I welcome comments and suggestions from readers : albert.vines@yahoo.com The Bed This was inspired by someone called Ariel and her desire for a brass bed. It's actually consensual and non- violent. I never set out to buy an old-style brass bed. It wasn't something that really suited my apartment, a modern, sparse, almost clinical building in a riverside redevelopment. Then late one night, surfing the channels, I stumbled across a scene in a film that gave me my inspiration. The film was low-budget sexploitation. It told the story of a woman whose relationship with her husband was based on mutual loathing, right up to the moment where it almost got violent, at which point they'd stare into each other's eyes, fall into bed and make mad, passionate love. Not at all clich'd. Oh no. But one scene stuck in my mind. It was filmed from floor level outside the doorway, looking up into the room. And there was the bed, an old, brass bed. He had thrown her face down onto it, her head towards the camera and then he'd thrown himself on top of her. In his blind passion he tore at her clothes (as I'm sure we all would). The woman brought herself up onto her elbows and clamped her teeth round the rail across the foot of the bed. She closed her eyes and the camera zoomed in onto her face, seen through the brass framework, a picture of agony and ecstasy, leaving you with the feeling that some mutually enjoyable anal sex was next on the agenda. Art should always inspire and this film (though in fact artless) did just that. I set out to obtain such a bed. It took a lot longer than you might think, but in the end I got one to my liking. Why did it take so long? Well, what I wanted was big (in the end I got king-size) with a stout horizontal rail at the head and the foot between tall bed-posts topped with finials. It needed to be substantial too, I didn't want something that looked the part but would collapse under the type of strain I had in mind. I anticipated some electrical stimulation too, so the more brass the better. I ended up with a repro-antique that cost several thousand dollars. The only steel in it was the mattress platform, a stiff, steel angle holding a sprung steel mesh. The brass posts bolted to each corner are held apart by slightly curved horizontal rails. At intervals of about a foot along the horizontal rails, vertical brass rods descended towards the floor. It was perfect. I had to re-design my bedroom, but a makeover was already overdue. The bed took pride of place in the centre of the room. It was a remarkable, solid brass, invitation to debauchery. Now for the piece de resistance. I created a bit-gag out of the horizontal rail across the foot of the bed. It was simple to do; two layers of leather wrapped around the rail, held in place by small straps on each side, each strap also attached to the ring of a modified bit gag Why did I use the rail across the foot of the bed? Well, the rail across the foot of the bed was about nine to twelve inches lower than the equivalent rail at the head of the bed. Which gave the required stretch between the bit gag and the posts. I strapped a small yacht pulley to each of the bottom posts at the finial, through which a white cotton rope, the thickness of my little finger, ran down to black, heavyweight rubber, wrist restraints. A vision formed in my mind of a swimmer, trunk out of water in the butterfly stroke. This was the position I was after! At the head of the bed I fixed the pulleys halfway down the posts, at the junction between the horizontal rail and the post. Some experimentation with the height of the wrist restraints led me to my next refinement. I found a supplier of gymnasium equipment through the Yellow Pages and chose some cubes of expanded polystyrene foam covered in a tough PVC cloth. I checked the positions of all the pieces personally, then I made some small adjustments to fit my first conquest. Julie I chose Julie as my first 'model' because she likes to be treated roughly, then she spends hours telling you exactly how it was for her. This can be tedious in the extreme, but when you start on a project such as this some user feedback is helpful. Otherwise you risk dislocated joints spread across the floor in front of you. I may be cruel but I'm not stupid. That sort of result starts a train of events that begin in a hospital and end in a cell. I knew that Julie liked it rough and Julie knew I could deliver sex the way she wanted it, although she had no idea how much more there would be in store for her further down the road. One day soon I planned to take her over the edge, into something she never dreamed of. Julie's about as close to the average English girl as you'll get, slim and almost flat-chested. She has a cute waist and long legs, which focuses your eyes nicely on a well-rounded arse-end. I told her over a drink one lunchtime that I'd bought a new brass bed. She works not far from my office, so we often have lunch. Her eyes lit up and she wanted to visit there and then. I played hard-to-get for about a week, by which time she was promising me the time of my life. I made it clear that she'd feel the effects for some days; this just made her more determined and more licentious. Finally she said she'd do anything I wanted, anything at all, just show her the way to The Brass Bed! What could I say? It's an impressive bed on its own, without the modifications I'd made. Julie was in awe of it from the doorway, by the time she got up close she was slipping out of her shift dress and kicking off her shoes. She saw the wrist restraints first, then she took in the bit-gag. She looked towards me nervously and paused in her haste to undress. I smiled what I thought was a wicked smile; she told me later I looked embarrassed. I must practice my wicked smile more. Luckily my reaction overcame her apparent worries and she finished her strip with a flourish by throwing her underwear over the other side of the room. With a wicked smile (which really looked wicked!) she asked "Are we going to play horsey?" "I think we are. You said you'd do anything I wanted, anything at all. So now's your time to deliver. To coin a phrase, Adopt the position." "On one condition, you know my limits, no trips to hospital and no broken skin. OK?" She looked more serious now, so I followed her lead and looked serious too. "OK". It was enough to get her onto the bed on her knees; with one hand either side of the bit gag she bent forward to try it for size. Her jaws opened and she moved her face forward to take it between her teeth. Her tongue was pressed back and down beneath the bit. Her jaws closed tightly onto the bar. She opened her mouth and lifted her head back to look me in the eye "Please don't hurt me, I swear I'll let you do anything if you promise not to hurt me". This was her litany last time we enacted out such a scene. I smiled and nodded reassuringly from beside the bedpost. Then my face took on a sterner expression as I said "I won't damage you, now get back onto that rail". Julie complied. I moved to the bit gag and fixed her head to my bed. Her hands still held the rail, her back arched up to the base of her spine, a few inches higher than her head. I carefully ran my hands through her hair, chestnut brown and totally natural. I smoothed it from her temples and gently pulled it back into a pony tail. Then I slowly plaited it, from her temples to the nape of her neck in a French plait. Her eyes were opening and closing, her breathing began to quicken. From the hair at the nape of her neck my fingers travelled the short journey to the sides of her breasts, then touched her lightly across the base of each breast, before drifting each palm across her hardening nipples. Her eyes now closed, and remained closed as she drifted along on a sexual high. I took her left hand first and moved her wrist across towards the restraint. Her eyes remained closed. The stiff latex of the restraint closed upon her slender wrist. This was the point of no return. As I buckled the strap across the top of the restraint I knew I had her. With her mouth strapped to the rail she couldn't reach this wrist with her right hand. If she realised this, she gave no indication. I moved to the other bed post and drew her hand towards the restraint. This time there was a slight resistance, not wanting to go too willingly to her fate. I gripped her wrist more tightly and held it still while I wrapped it in rubber, buckling a strap to seal it in place. Julie's arms were now held out from her body, towards each side, though still bent through ninety degrees at the elbow. I took up the slack on each rope; first one arm and then the other straightened and stretched towards the small pulleys fixed to the post-head finials. I fastened the rope end to the bar. Her eyes opened but did not focus, she seemed to stare at the junction between wall and floor. Her breathing was now quicker and deeper than before, her skin beginning to flush from her jaw to her neck. I took off my clothes while watching her from one side. Her focus never shifted. She was, quite literally, staring into space. I took a sleep mask from my drawer, one I'd picked upon an overseas flight. I crouched in front of Julie's face and watched her eyes swim back into focus. "I'm going to blindfold you now. Don't be afraid. OK?" Her head was immobile, her only way of communicating was with her eyes. She gently closed them, awaiting the feel of the cloth over her face. I took this as an affirmative and duly obliged. Julie had parted her knees to bring her backside down and straighten her spine. Her sex glinted, slickly waiting for my attention. It must have surprised her when I didn't touch her there, but instead took each knee and brought them back together. A few loops of the cotton rope around the tops of her knees, cinched tight, brought her arse higher again. I took one of the padded foam blocks and forced it between the bed, the base of her ribcage and the front of her thighs, forcing her knees back slightly, away from her trunk, so that she now appeared more stretched, less comfortable and much more expectant. Now I could finish her restraints. I took the ankle cuffs attached to the bed head and slipped them around each bony joint. A shackle clipped the two together and I tightened the rope to maintain some tension. I moved back to the foot of the bed and looked at her from that angle. Her shoulders and neck seemed sculpted out of flesh, taut, stretched sinews that would soon burn with pain. I could see all that I needed to see. Some small adjustments to the position, some subtle changes to the sequence in which the knots are tightened, and I could have her screaming in agony. My hands moved back to her hair, twisting her plait in one hand I could see the discomfort move through her neck and jaw. I desperatley wanted to play with her pain, pinch and poke into those straining joints. Next time maybe. For now I moved back to Julies knees, releasing the rope cinched into the flesh above her knees. My fingers trailed up her thigh, my hand cupped her right buttock, as my thumb circled over her anus, picking up the slick, slippery fluid from her drooling cunt and spreading it around her trembling sphincter. Her buttocks were smooth and soft, the silky smooth skin a pale porcelain shade of cream. I couldn't resist a slap or two, bringing a flush of pink to the creamy flesh. Julie moved her knees apart, not to lower her rear this time, but instead to open herself up to me. My fingers moved to her clitoris and within a minute or so her orgasm came and her cunt bucked against my hand. I obliged her and moved my fingers deep into her, feeling her inner flesh move as the sensations washed through her. As her orgasm subsided I knelt between her calves and held my cock to her cunt. Without any finesse I opened her cunt lips and pushed my cock deep inside. I fucked her like an animal, my pelvis banging against her thighs and buttocks. My hands held her hips, feeling the bones, pulling myself into her. I watched the glistening length of my cock slide out and in again, until my orgasm came, throbbing through my cock and tightening my balls. I fucked her hard and deep until the feeling subsided. I moved back and my cock slipped from her. I sat back on my haunches and watched my cum ooze from her cunt and slide down the inside of one thigh. I sat on the side of the bed and looked at the tableau; my mind was already moving over the possibilities. The temptation to fist her was so strong, I wanted to scoop up my cum and lubricate her ring with it, to watch my fist force an opening into her anus and open like a flower inside her. But this was Julie and she had her limits, not many, but those that she had I respected. I reluctantly released her ankles from the restraints, then moved back to take a last look at her face, fixed so solidly to my beautiful bed. I was going to have some fun with this new toy.