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From: "evault" <evault@xoommail.com>
Subject: The Erotica Vault Story Post: Binding Agreement, The adventures of Bonda Otytely. (F f, ltx/rub, encase, bd, cst) Post 2 of 4
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**********************************************************
* Posted from the Erotica Vault *
* New PERMANENT Web Address *
* http://www.eccentrica.org/evault *
* Email evault@mailcity.com *
* Binding Agreement Part *
* The Adventures Of Bonda Otytely *
* Posting 2 of 4 *
* The Best FREE Erotic Story Archive *
* on the net :) *
* *
**********************************************************
BINDING AGREEMENT, Part IV
By the time Bonda finally came down to earth again, literally, she was
one giant spasm, unable to itch, bitch or think straight. She wanted to be
free
-- not forever, just long enough to regain the sensations of touch and
movement.
When she came down, she went nowhere but sideways. Her bell balloon
bondage was tilted on end, and then she heard Tyrenna's voice through her
earpieces:
"Time to let the good times roll, dear," Tyrenna giggled.
Bonda felt her caged and coccooned self rolled through the hallways and
(bounce, bounce, bounce) down the steps of Mistress Sally's little slave
hut. By
the time she rolled to a stop, her head was spinning faster than a cotton
candy
machine. Her rolly- polly ride had pounded her breasts and buttocks, and
jostled her crotch
enough to remind her that Invaders 1 and 2 were still take up space in her
spaces.
Her bell was flipped roughly upright, and she felt the balloon slowly
decompress.
She felt the feeling return to places where she'd lost it, even though
she was still mummified in her latex and metal. The feeling reminded her
of the
rush when she used to unlace her wicked leather corset, which cinched her
down to an
18'' waist.
Except this relief went from head to toe.
Tyrenna cut away her latex prison with quick snips of her scissors,
and the latex literally sucked away from her body as Tyrenna peeled it from
her.
Bonda suddenly shivered. It felt cold around her. Then Tyrenna sprayed
her caged form with a heavy, warm mist of water. It felt so good.
One by one, Tyrenna dialed the combination locks and they popped open.
But it was at least 20 minutes later before she was on to Bonda's hooded
head,
her buckled bindings, her fettered feet. Finally, she was free of all
devices
except those three nasty inflatables.
"Leave the gag in for now," said Tyrenna. "But you can take everything
else out."
Bonda did.
Tyrenna snapped a leather and rubber collar on Bonda's neck. The collar
was attached to a chain, which in turn was attached to an overhead track
that ran vertically across the room. Tyrenna ordered Bonda to submerge
herself
in a huge, neck-deep bubble bath built into the floor of the room.
"Enjoy yourself while you can," Tyrenna said. "We only allow an hour
off between punishments. There is a toilet over there, and a dressing
table
with perfumes and other toiletries next to it. I'm going to fetch you some
food."
By the time Tyrenna returned, Bonda was in front of a dressing table,
primping herself. Bonda's gag was removed and she was instructed to sit
down and
dine.
Throughout the bath, and during the meal, Bonda had found herself
rubbing her body, getting the sensations back to normal. Her puss and her
breasts
were particularly sensitive. Her sweaty red skin tone had almost returned
to
its normal pinkish hue.
She felt terrific, she thought. Her whole body felt alive. She felt
like she'd just awaken from an erotic night full of lovemaking, with a
glow all over
her. She was satified in every way but one.
And why not? She was clean, freshly relieved, and filled with good food, a
gourmet breakfast, no less.
What was next?
Mistress Sally's earlier words echoed in her head:
"We have a wonderful day of self-punishment lined up for you...."
Her flashback was interrupted by Tyrenna clearing her throat.
"Free time's up," she said. "It's SGTT -- Slave Girl Torture Time."
Bonda moaned as Tyrenna released her from the overhead chain and
attached a long leather leash to her collar.
"Follow me, dear," she ordered, and the two walked back up a flight of
stairs and down a long hallway. They entered the last room on the left.
Bonda was led over to a dressing table and ordered the remain standing
as Tyrenna dressed her in long, white latex stockings, 8'' red leather
ballet boots, a matching red helmet with eye, nose and mouth openings, and
matching red
gloves.
She was then wrapped and laced into white heavy-latex sheath dress
that allowed her only inches of space to wiggle-walk her way around. Her
collar was
detached and replaced by a 5'' posture collar sewn into the dress, with
O-rings
that buckled to her red helmet on either side and at the back. The back
buckle forced her
head back to the point that she found herself staring at the ceiling.
Bonda considered her position: her arms were still free, she should
still see, and she could breath freely. Was this their best bondage?
No.
As Bonda stood there teetering, Tyrenna wheeled over an 7-foot-high,
4-foot square plexiglas box on wheels, all framed in heavy-duty metal.
Rods,
rings, chains, clamps, pulleys and sex toys ringed the sides and hung from
the
ceiling.
On the plexiglas door were the letters: PERPETUAL PUNISHMENT MACHINE.
Tyrenna opened the door and ushered Bonda inside. Bonda tippy-toed her
way to the middle of the box, where Tyrenna secured her by her helmet to
a pully overhead. Tyrenna pulled adjustable L-shaped bars down from the
ceiling, almost parallel to Bonda's shoulders, but slightly higher. Bonda
was strapped
into the bars at the shoulders, above the elbows, below the elbows, and
at the
wrists. She could swing her arms slightly forward and back, but not from
side to side.
Next Tyrenna strapped a black leather strap across her mouth, forcing two
hard-rubber blocks into her mouth.
After the leather was strapped behind Bonda's head, Tyrenna turned a
crank and the two rubber blocks started to part. Bonda's mouth slowly
opened
wider and wider until she felt her mouth could be extended no more. She
droooled
helpessly. Then Tyrenna fit a brank over the bottom rubber block. A
rubber shaft was
mounted at the far end of the brank, and Bonda could see that a groove down
the
center of the brank could guide the shaft directly into her mouth. A
system of
pistons was attached to the underside of the brank, and as Tyrenna pulled
up and
down on the bottom piston, the rubber shaft slid into Bonda's mouth,
across her
tongue, and back out.
"That should keep your mouth occupied," Tyrenna said.
Bonda flinched.
Tyrenna hummed to herself as she fit a metal girdle around Bonda's
middle. It also had a series of pistons and pulleys, and somehow (Bonda
could not lower
her head to see), one piston on her girdle was attached to the bottom
piston of the
brank.
"Spread your legs," Tyrenna ordered.
Bonda moaned. Her rubber sheath dress had little give, but on her
tippy-toes, she was able to extend her ankles about four inches apart. She
felt an
adjustable spreader bar being attached to either ankle, and then Tyrenna
cranked
her ankles apart even further, to maybe a 6" gap. Bonda screwed short
extension
poles into the spreader bar; two in front, two in back, all with O-rings
attached.
She then attached stiff aluminum poles from the O-rings in front to
O-rings at her
tethered wrists.
Identical poles ran from the back poles at her ankles to her elbows.
Poles secured from her elbows to her sides prevented her from twisting too
far to one
side or the other.
Bonda wasn't sure yet what all this accomplished.
"You are becoming a mechanical doll," Tyrenna said. "These parts will
all interconnect and, like a Rube Goldberg device, create an on-going,
self-driven series of actions-and-reactions, all designed for your personal
discomfort."
Bonda's dress had black rubber pop-off plugs at the most convenient
locations: her butt, her crotch, and her nipples. One by one, Tyrenna
unplugged
the holes. She attached a series of pulleys and poles to the metal girdle.
Two poles
angled out in front of Bonda's breasts, about six inches away from her
body. Bonda
winced as a huge nipple clamp was attached to each breast. Each clamp was
attached
by a wire that ran inside the rods and back to the girdle and its
interconnected
pulleys and pistons. Behind her, Bonda felt Tyrenna screw a rubber shaft
onto the
end of a piece of tubing. Tyrenna attached the shaft to the end of a
U-shaped series
of tubes than ran from the metal girdle and went out, down, and back up,
between
Bonda's cheeks.
The shaft found her dark cavity and burrowed all the way up. The same
process was repeated in front: out, down, and up, up, up.
Then came a metal box the screwed into the back of the metal girdle. It,
too, had four separate piston-pole extensions that went out and down to
four
spring-loaded table-tennis paddles: two aimed at her left cheek, and two at
her
right. Other poles ran from the box to her elbows and heels.
Finally, Tyrenna came around front and attached a very long pole from
Bonda's posture collar the the spreader bar. But the pole, secured to the
middle
of the spreader bar, was a little too short: Bonda could touch the floor
with the
left toe of her ballet boots, or the right toe, but not both.
"Let me explain what's about to happen," Tyrenna said. "The wheels on
the outside of your plexiglas prison are set to force you to walk in a
large, continuing circle around this room. Every time you take a step, the
pistons and
poles will push and pull and take on a life of their own.
They will pull and release your nipples. They will push each shaft in
and out.
They will trigger and re-set the paddles. Your body will react to each
pain, each paddle, each probe, and as you react, you will naturally wiggle
from
side to side, pushing yourself forward, forcing the cycle to start all
over.
"To get you started, all I have to do is release the brake locks on all
four wheels, give you a littttle push, and off you go. Are you ready?"
Bonda wiggled her tongue and grunted.
"Good," said Tyrenna. One by one, Tyrenna released the brake locks.
After she released the last one, she stood up and looked at Bonda's
motionless
form. She went behind Bonda and pinched her left cheek. Bonda lurched
forward,
shimmying slightly from side to side.
Bonda was off.
She heard Tyrenna shut the plexiglas door behind her and the could feel
the poles and pistons take on a life of her own. Whoosh. Clink. Whoosh.
Clink.
Left toe. Right toe. Swat. Whoosh. The shaft went deep into Bonda's mouth,
gagging her,
and slid back out. The other shafts did the same. Her nipples went taut,
them
limp. The paddles slapped her butt. Left. Right. Nipples taut. Nipples
limp. Shaft
in. Shaft out.
Whoosh. Slap. Whoosh. Pull.
In and out.
Slap and pull.
By her second trip around the room, Bonda wondered how long she could
hold off an orgasm.
Not long.
Her body shook with delight before she made it around a third time.
But she kept going, unable to stop.
"Isn't this fun?" Tyrenna mused. "You come and go at the same time.
You'll do five trips of 100 laps each, with a 5-minute break in between."
Whoosh. Slap. Whoosh. Pull.
In and out.
Slap and pull.
She came.
She went.
She had no choice.
BINDING AGREEMENT, Part V
By the time complete her fifth and last 100 laps around the room, Bonda
had lost track of time. Had she been trapped inside the plexicage for
hours? For
days?
She didn't think she'd ever want another orgasm.
Too many.
Too sore.
And too tired.
All she wanted to do was sleep.
Tyrenna freed her and dragged her back downstairs for another bath,
another potty break, another meal, and, of course, another ordeal.
"How are you handling things so far, dear?" asked a suddenly
conversational, almost chummy Tyrenna.
"I feel like I could sleep for days," said Bonda. "I've been to the two
extremes: at first I never thought I'd get aroused, and then I never
thought I'd
could stop it. Right now, I don't care if I ever have another orgasm. I'm
so raw."
Tyrenna pursed her lips.
"You should remember what you say, dear. Mistress has this cruel way
about her.
The things you think you need, you don't. The things you don't think you
need you, really do."
Bonda was puzzled.
Why was Tyrenna talking in riddles?
She cocked her head at Tyrenna, as if to say: "Huh?"
"You'll understand," Tyrenna said. "Starting with your next adventure:
THE SLEEPING BAG."
The Sleeping Bag. When Bonda first saw it, she almost laughed out loud.
It was a very, very baggy, a long, heavy piece of rubber with a few hoses
here
and there.
"For once, we've got nothing to probe, nothing to pinch," Tyrenna said.
"We simply need to have you fit yourself with this white rubber baby doll
nightie and matching panties and rubberized helmet."
Before the helmet went on, Tyrenna slipped a blue ball gag with a
breathing hose into Bonda's mouth. Bonda was very relaxed. The gag had a
breathing
hose. The helmet had a cupie-doll face painted on it, and other than the
breathing
hoses extending from the nose, Bonda saw nothing hellish about it. It laced
up
the back.
There were no eye holes, but the opaque eyes allowed Bonda to at least
see light and make out movement. Bonda could hear Tyrenna's every move.
Bonda hummed into her gag.
This was easy.
Tyrena slipped on ankle and knee straps, then a pair of laced white
rubber gloves that extended all the way to Bonda's shoulders. Bonda wiggled
her
fingers and swang her elbows. No real discomfort here, she thought. She
felt Tyrenna afix
a posture collar, to which a metal head cage was attached, with two bars
each
running from side to side, and from the back to the front. The bars held
Bonda's head
firmly fixed in a straight-forward position, but were not overly tight over
chafing.
Bonda felt her left arm being lifted over her head and across the cage. Her
arm was attached
to the cage with two straps at the elbow and one at her wrist. The same was
done to
the other arm. Her arms were now crossed over her head -- securely, but not
painfully.
Tyrenna stood back to see her bound victim. Bonda could see her form
before her, but only the shape. She saw the form come closer, until it was
standing directly in front of her.
Tyrenna rubbed Bonda's crotch through her panties.
Bonda moaned softly.
Tyrenna reached up gently fingered each of Bonda's nipples through her
nightie.
Bonda moaned softly again.
Then Tyrenna pulled hard on Bonda's nipples.
Bonda screamed behind her gag: "M-m-m-p-p-p-h-h-h-h!!!"
Tyrenna retreated two steps.
"Okay, I guess it's time to bag our prisoner," Tyrenna said as Bonda
stood there, shaking off the pain. "But first, I need to summon some
helpers."
Tyrenna rang a bell and within seconds Bonda saw three other dark
figures in the room. She felt herself being lifted up and into the sleeping
bag. The
bag was held up all the way to her neck while Tyrenna fitted extension
hoses into her
three breathing hoses. Then Tyrenna and her friends pulled the bag over
Bonda's head.
Bonda was now it darkness. The rubber made it warm inside. Too warm.
Bondas was sweating as she felt eight hands and arms wrap around and lift
her
onto a platform. She almost tettered, but was able to balance herself. She
heard Tyrenna clear her throat:
"You are standing on a plexiglass platform that is actually the bottom
of an airtight plastic tube. Your breathing devises will be attached to the
outside of the tube. Your bag has several inflatable bladders, and once
we've fitted
you inside the tube, the bladders will be inflated. Then, dear, you can
sleep -- if you
can."
Bonda could hear the tube fitted over her bagged form. She felt the cool
air from the outside rushing into her hoses. She felt the tube locked to
its
base, and she felt her body titled sideways. The tube was on its side now.
Then the
inflation began.
Bonda did not know, but the bag had several layers of rubber. As each
layer was inflated, the layer closer to her body shaped itself tightly
around her
form. As each layer was blown up, she felt the air push slightly this way
and that in
the tube. She heard air pocked pop open. Soon she was floating on the air
inside the
tube, within her prison. The inflation contrinued. She heard the rubber
screech
against the outer tubing as it sought spaces to squeeze into. Soon the air
pressure was so
tight, Bonda could not move at all. Still, she felt her body bag inflated
more and
more.
Finally, when Bonda felt the inner core of the bag pressed tightly into
every crack of her body, pressing her like a smothering lover, the
inflation stopped
and felt her tube lifted. She was carried over to the pit where she had
bathed
earlier. It had been drained and refilled with cold water. Her captors
dropped Bonda's tube
on top and it floated. Bonda felt hands hold the tube motionless.
Bonda heard Tyrenna's voice echo through the tube and the layers of her
rubber prison.
"Okay, girls, let's take her for a spin."
Bonda felt the tube spin rapidly sideways in the water, floating freely
across the pit and back. Finally, it slowed. She breathed in and out,
testing her
breathing hoses.
She was getting air, okay. Finally, she felt the tube go almost
upright, then rock downward. Bonda twisted as hard as she could in her
tubular coccoon. The
tube rolled over twice, landing, again, upside down.
"Damn," she thought to herself. "I forgot to breathe."
Bonda was rolled face up and held as long metal cannisters were attached
to either side of the tube the air hose in her mouth was split like a Y,
with hoses attached to each cannister. Three-inch hose were attached to her
nose-hose
extensions at the back of her head.
"Breathe in through your mouth and out your nose," Tyrenna said. "You
have enough air in these cannsters for several hours. But the weight of the
cannisters will force you underwater, although not enough to touch bottom
beucase of the
air inside.
You will be submerge deep enough that when you exhale, the nose hoses
will blow bubbles. You'll find those bubbles are awfully noisy and as go
past your
head and up to the surface, but hey, you'll know your breathing."
Tyrenna laughed.
"Okay, girls, let her go."
Bonda felt the tube submerge below the water line. She could still
breathe But inside her suit, it was hot. She felt her body sweat profusely.
"You're probably sweaty in there," she heard Tyrenna say in a voice
distorted by its travel underwater to Bonda's ears. "By the time you're out
of there,
you're skin will have probably shriveled. You'll be a prune. But first
you'll start
itching again. Some of it will be uncomfortable. But some of it, especially
around your sore
crotch and breasts, also will be erotic. But, of course, you'll be unable
to do
anything about it because you can't use your hands, and wiggling will only
make it worse.
"For now, just consider yourself the belle of bondage -- Tyrenna's first
official diving belle, if you wish."
Bonda snorted. When she did, the air exploded from her nose hoses,
causing enough bubbles to rock her tube from side to side.
**********************************************************
* Posted from the Erotica Vault *
* New PERMANENT Web Address *
* http://www.eccentrica.org/evault *
* Email evault@mailcity.com *
* Binding Agreement Part *
* The Adventures Of Bonda Otytely *
* Posting 2 of 4 *
* The Best FREE Erotic Story Archive *
* on the net :) *
* *
**********************************************************
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