Bondage Model free porn video

Part 1

Hi, my name is Sally and I live in rural Devon, England, one of the prettiest parts of the country. I am 25 and single, have long blonde hair, a slim body and 34C breasts. I inherited a large Victorian house in a tiny hamlet, so I have no mortgage and can get by nicely on my salary as a part-time teaching assistant at a local primary school.

I have had a fetish for bondage ever since I was a young girl, but I've never trusted anyone enough to tell them that, so I am heavily into self-bondage. My location is ideal for this – isolated, with no nearby houses and a large garden which is not overlooked, and in the middle of woods and hills. I have played out many self-bondage games here without any danger of being discovered.

On this particular occasion, I was having a new septic tank installed at the bottom of the garden – not very glamorous, but true. The workmen had dug a hole for it, about six feet deep and 10 feet long by four feet wide, but the delivery of the tank itself was delayed by a few days, so I was looking down into a deep pit in my garden, and my weird, perverted imagination started to work overtime. What an ideal opportunity, I told myself, for a unique self-bondage situation ! I could get into the hole, away from prying eyes but open to the elements and beneath what promised to be a clear blue sky, tie myself up, have some fun in the dirt, wait for my release and then get out and carry on my day – simple ! Of course, there would be a little more to it than that, there always was with me, but the initial outline of the plan was simple. It was a Friday, and I spent the rest of the day thinking up exactly the bondage I would use, what I would wear, and what extra little challenges I could set myself.

I woke really early the next day and, as I was too excited to sleep any more, got into my running gear and was out in the early August morning by 6AM. I live on the side of a steep hill with a public footpath running up through the woods to an ancient hill fort (just earthworks, no castle walls or anything). I jogged up there, happy to see no-one else was about at this ungodly hour, and looked around for a suitable hiding place for my handcuff keys. I hid them under a heavy rock by the third fence post from the gate into the next field – I memorised the location carefully as I would be retrieving them later, possibly in the dark, as wandering around here during the day in handcuffs and other bondage paraphernalia would be a bit risky, as walkers frequently came this way. I continued my run for another five miles, feeling very virtuous, which would make up for the naughty stuff to come.

By the time I got back, the sun was up, it was already quite warm and I was very sweaty. I jumped under a cold shower, which perked me up, then I warmed it up so I could shave my legs, armpits and pussy – by the time I got out I was as smooth as a baby ! I went downstairs in the nude and fixed myself a big breakfast – I was planning a long day and wasn't sure when I'd get my next meal. I went out in the garden, still nude, to check everything was okay. The ladder into the hole was in place, and I had rigged up a pole overhanging the hole from which I would suspend my release keys. It all looked good, except ... it looked really dry down there. I had envisaged myself rolling around in the mud, getting filthy while I struggled desperately in my bonds. To rectify the problem, I got the hose which was lying on the grass, turned on the tap and pointed the jet into the hole. I made the whole thing nice and damp, allowing a puddle to form just where the keys would drop, then left the nozzle dangling over the edge of the hole to make sure it didn't dry up later in the day, turning the tap down a bit so it didn't flood it and drown myself.

Back into the house and more preparations. First, one of my back-up plans – a note to leave on the kitchen table for my friend Catherine, who always comes over for coffee on Monday morning. If I was still not free by then – hopefully that was never going to happen – she would find the note telling her I was stuck in the hole and come to help me. Catherine didn't know about my fetish and it would be horribly embarrassing if I had to get her to release me, but better that than be there when the tank was delivered on Tuesday ! Now to get dressed up for my little adventure.

I may not have mentioned this but I also have a fetish for tight, clinging rubber, as well as the bondage thing. I took out a pair of black latex stockings and slid into them, pulling them up to the top of my thighs, enjoying the feel of them gently squeezing my legs. My breathing was already a little shallow and ragged as I picked up my shoes. They were black patent leather with two inch platforms and six inch heels, real fuck-me shoes, which were a little painful and difficult to walk in but so sexy it was worth it.

Next I stepped into my black latex body suit and pulled it up. It was cut high on the thighs and was no more than a thong at the back, leaving my buttocks entirely bare. I struggled into the arms of the suit, which ended in integral gloves, then pulled the zip from just above the crotch to the high neck line, so that my upper body would have been entirely encased in rubber, if it hadn't been for the fact that there were cut-outs over my breasts so that they were left exposed and accessible. I was definitely struggling to breathe now as my level of excitement grew, my heart thumping in my chest. My hands were shaking as I picked up the black latex hood and put it over my head, pulling my blonde hair through the hole at the top, twisting and inching the tight rubber down until it covered my face and formed a close fit against the neck of the suit. I turned and looked at myself in the full-length bedroom mirror and, as always, I was stunned by the figure in front of me, transformed from a very ordinary young woman into an absolute sex goddess. I had to tell myself to try and calm down as I picked up my cloth and polished the rubber until I was gleaming from head to foot. I was within a whisker of cumming but knew I had to control myself or I would never finish what I'd started out to do. I took out my rubber bit gag and strapped it tightly between my teeth, forcing my jaws apart; I tucked the chin strap in place and ran the straps up my cheeks to the top of my head, where another strap went to the back and buckled up behind. There were squares of leather attached to the side straps which acted like blinkers on a horse, removing my peripheral vision and forcing me to turn my head if I wanted to see something to my side. Again I checked myself out in the mirror and felt even more turned on as my mouth started to salivate and I had to struggle to stop myself dribbling. I ran my gloved fingers over the few areas of flesh still exposed and felt hot, really hot, and not just from the confining rubber. It took a supreme act of will to stop bringing myself off in a glorious orgasm.

I knew the next part of my preparation would be the hardest, as I squeezed lubricant onto the seven inch vibrating butt plug, spread my legs, pulled the body suit to one side and, bending forward, eased it into my backside. I groaned as it opened me up and then went deeper and deeper until I felt completely stuffed. I was panting and saliva was now drooling over my chin. I caught it in my gloved hand and rubbed it over my bare breasts. Slowly I straightened up and picked up my vibrator, one I had only recently bought, which had a curved shaft so that the head pressed against the G spot, and a special 'butterfly' attachment to stimulate the clitoris – I loved it. This one didn't need any lubricant as I was dripping already and as I pushed it into place, I felt my knees trembling and once again I had to fight to stop myself cumming. I took a few seconds to regain some semblance of composure, before pulling the latex back into place and hiding the invaders.

I picked out my shiniest pair of handcuffs and closed one bracelet around my right wrist, leaving the other open for later. I put a long piece of chain, two padlocks and two wide leather belts into a bag and tottered uncertainly downstairs.

I would be using an ice release mechanism and I went to the freezer to retrieve it. I had a plastic bottle filled with about four litres of water (over a gallon) which had been in there for over a week. In the middle of the ice was a set of keys which worked the padlocks in my bag, tied to a block of wood which hung out of the neck of the bottle – this ensured that the keys would definitely not get accidentally stuck in the bottle and also I would be able to find the keys with my searching fingers once they fell to the ground. As I lugged the bottle out into the garden, I picked up my second back-up plan, my mobile phone, which would go into the hole with me and enable me to call Catherine if I got trapped down there.

I fixed the bottle to the pole by the ring I had attached to the bottom, so it would hang upside down as the ice melted. Knowing it was going to be a hot sunny day, I had wrapped the bottle in aluminium foil to prevent the ice from melting too quickly. I made my way awkwardly down the ladder, my nervousness and excitement rising as I stepped onto the wet earth and felt my heels sink in. The fears and doubts inevitably started to rise and I had to try and push them from my mind as I finalised my preparations. I put the end of the chain around my waist, pulling it as tight as I could before I padlocked it in place, then I ran the chain down between my buttocks, through my legs and up and under itself at the front, forming a crotch chain which could be pulled tight as I struggled. I sat down on the cool mud and wrapped the silvery links around my thighs, then ran the chain between my legs to wrap around my ankles just behind. As I closed the second padlock, I knew I was now stuck here until the ice melted, but I was not yet finished. With some difficulty, I managed to loop the leather belts around my upper body, one above my breasts and one below, pulling them tight as I buckled them, pinning my arms to my sides. Nearly there ! I managed to reach down between my legs and switch on the two vibrators and, with my last bit of focused willpower, twisted my arms behind my back and closed the bracelet around my left wrist, completing my bondage. At last I could give myself over to the intense feelings running through my body and I let out a guttural moan as I toppled over onto my side and stretched my legs back, rolling onto my stomach and pulling the chain tight, driving the vibrators deeper into me. Within seconds I was crying and moaning through one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had, as I writhed on the ground, twisting and turning as I came so hard and for so long I thought I was going to die.

When my orgasm finally subsided I already felt spent, but I knew I had at least another two hours of this. The vibrators had an intermittent function, so after ten minutes they shut off for ten minutes, giving me a brief respite from their stimulation. I went through cycle after cycle, being forced to cum each time the vibrators started up. I hardly moved, except to squirm and writhe around when I started to cum yet again.

Soon I was burning up, and I realised that, with the August sun directly overhead, black rubber was not the best sunbathing costume. I twisted myself around until I could see my release mechanism but there was only the occasional slow drip of melt water, so it was going to be a while and I needed to cool off. I could see the hose pipe was still running and I wriggled and squirmed, inch by inch, towards it, the chain digging into my ankles and thighs and pushing the vibrators further into me. When they fired up again, I couldn't go on as they drove me to another climax. When I had cum and they had paused again, I felt too shattered to move but knew I had to or I would be in an even worse state next time. I shuffled painfully over the ground until I could slide into the pool of muddy water under the hose and I positioned myself so that the cold water was spraying over my head and body. It was a sweet relief and I just lay there, resting, until the vibrators kicked in and tortured me again. My bottom was giving me terrible pain by now, as the butt plug had been thrust much further in than I was used to, and my pussy was aching after so many orgasms. But this was what my self-bondage was about – if I didn't want to be suffering I wouldn't have got into this. My body and my beautiful shiny rubber outfit were now covered in mud, but I didn't care, I just had to lie there and grind my teeth against the bit, while I waited for the ice to melt.


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I don't know how long it took but at last I heard a plop and saw the wooden block floating in the water a few feet from me. I felt a wave of relief, but when I tried to wriggle towards the key, I couldn't move ! I was exhausted by the vibrators, which thankfully had run down their batteries, and I had sunk into the mud a few inches and it did not want to let me go. With a suddenly rising panic I thrashed from side to side, sending waves across the pool and after a few seconds I got myself free and could move again. I struggled through the water towards the block but, frustratingly, I kept washing it away from my grasp. Eventually I got it and crawled out of the water.

I have had plenty of practice at unlocking padlocks with my hands cuffed behind me but here I had three extra problems. One, I was exhausted, two, I was wearing latex which meant 'feeling' the key into the lock was impossible and it was more just hit and miss, and three, the lock was full of mud, making it even more difficult to insert the key. So a task which would normally take a minute or two took me fifteen, maybe twenty. But at last I had it undone and I was able to stretch my legs. I spent a few minutes getting some life back into my legs before I struggled to my feet and staggered over to the ladder.

I had previously tried climbing the ladder without using my hands just to make sure it was possible, although then I had been wearing trainers, with my hands clasped behind my back, rather than in stiletto platforms with my arms strapped to my side and my wrists handcuffed. So I was a little nervous to say the least as I put my foot on the first rung. The trick was to pretty much lie on the ladder and push myself up with my feet one rung at a time. To my surprise and relief, it turned out to be not much harder in my bondage, although it was a little uncomfortable rubbing my bare breasts against the rungs as I shuffled up. Pretty soon I was at the top and was able to slide off the top of the ladder and onto the grass. I had escaped !

When I'd had a few minutes rest to get my breath back, I went to the house and into the kitchen. It was four in the afternoon, which meant I'd been at it for at least five hours, but it was still far too light for me to go out and retrieve the handcuff keys. I cursed myself for overextending the session, while secretly I was enjoying the thought of the extra time in bondage and discomfort – maybe I'm a masochist too ! Now I had several hours to kill and, as I was thoroughly exhausted, a nap seemed a good idea. However, I was filthy and didn't want to mess up the sofa or the beds by lying on them. Instead, I went to the shed in the garden and dragged out the seat cushions for the garden furniture, arranged them on the lawn as best I could, and lay down. Within minutes I was asleep.

When I woke up it was dark. It was a warm, still summer evening and, although I was stiff and aching all over my body, I felt refreshed by my sleep. I decided it was dark enough to risk going up the hill and I set off immediately. At my gate, I crouched down, looking this way and that, listening for the slightest sound. Satisfied no-one was around, I slipped out of the gate and headed along the path towards the ancient monument. I heard an owl hooting in the trees but not much else. It was an uneventful journey and I found the rock I'd hidden the keys under fairly easily in the dark. Lifting it was rather more difficult than I had anticipated, with my wrists cuffed and arms immobilised it was almost impossible to get any leverage on it to roll it away. Several times I had to stop to catch my breath and try and think of another way to come at it. I began to think that, after all I'd had to go through, I was going to fail at the last. I finally got it to move by sitting with my back to the rock, fingers underneath it, with my legs spread and my stilettos digging into the ground. I was able to move it just enough to retrieve the keys and I let out a groan of relief.

I am pretty adept at undoing cuffs behind my back and I soon had them undone. I unbuckled the belts and lay on my back with arms and legs splayed, enjoying the freedom. The first thing I had to do was ease that monstrous plug out of my butt, which was a pain and a relief at the same time. I took off the gag and the shoes, too, to give me some respite. Gathering up my gear, I trotted back down the hill to the house and, once safely inside, stripped off the rubber, eased the vibrator out of my sore pussy, and poured myself a big glass of wine. Another bondage session successfully completed ! This had not only given me many orgasms already, it would be in my dreams for a long time. I was just about to head off to a well-earned soak in a hot bath, when I remembered my note on the table. Picking it up to throw it in the bin, I noticed some extra writing and, with a growing feeling of panic, I read the following:


Sally,
Popped over to see you but you were tied up – or was it chained up ??! Anyway, see you on Monday as usual if you're free (and even if you're not !).
Catherine


Oh my God, I thought, I've been found out ! I went bright red in embarrassment, even though no-one was there to see. Everyone will know ! I'll be a social outcast ! I'll lose my job ! As I thought a bit more about it, I realised a number of things – one, she hadn't freaked out, two, she hadn't stopped me, and three, she hadn't freed me. I thought about her watching me struggle, bound, gagged, in rubber, and a familiar feeling of excitement started to rise. Maybe this wouldn't be the total disaster I'd first thought …


Part 2 (added: 10/17/2010)

The time until Monday morning seemed to drag by, with me in a constant state of nervous anxiety. What would I say to her, how could I explain my behaviour without coming across as a sick pervert ? Could I make up a lie ? How did you come up with a reasonable explanation for being handcuffed and chained at the bottom of a hole – a phantom attacker did it ? The note, the ice, the fact that I escaped all showed that to be a lie. As the time approached I felt physically sick.

And then there she was. Catherine is nearly forty, but looks after herself despite having two twenty-year old c***dren – a classic yummy mummy (or MILF, if you prefer). That day she was dressed in tight jeans and high heels, which showed off her nice legs and tight arse, belted at her slender waist and a tight white T-shirt stretched over her ample breasts – quite over-dressed for our usual Monday coffee (I was in the more usual loose fitting long skirt and blouse, with flat shoes. I also noticed she was wearing more make-up and jewellery than was usual as she swept into the kitchen with a broad smile and talking some inconsequential nonsense about the approaching village fete.

Catherine used to work in London before she and her husband moved to the country a couple of years previously, barging into village life and taking over, as people used to a faster pace often do. They were well off – Derek had been something well-paid in the city before 'retiring' here at forty five, now doing consultancy and having a few directorships. She had introduced herself to me a few days after they arrived and never given me a chance to refuse her friendship, even if I'd wanted to.

She was looking at me expectantly and I realised I had missed something important as I fretted about the subject were weren't discussing.

"Sorry, what did you say ?" She smiled at my discomfort.

"I said I've got something to show you on the Internet, if you're interested". Oh boy, is it a new jam-making recipe or a village fete website she'd signed up to, I wondered as I brought in my laptop. She tapped away for a minute and then turned the computer to face me. Suddenly my heart was racing as I saw a picture of me, in my rubber, in the hole, chained and cuffed. I stared at the picture, my mind a blank, until it eventually started to unfreeze. How had she downloaded this photo, which she had obviously taken on Saturday as I lay there, unable to see her because of the blinkers, onto my computer ? I took in the rest of the screen and realised to my even greater horror that this was a website, with the name www.devonbondagegirl.com.

"That's right" she said as she saw the look on my face, "You're an Internet porn star ! I only set this up yesterday and there are no tags to bring anyone here, but some clever people have discovered you already". She leaned over and scrolled down and I saw that there were more, lots more, pictures of me. At the bottom of the page there was a counter and it read "000153".

"Please, you've got to take it down !" I said desperately.

"Oh don't worry, nobody can tell its you. Its wholly anonymous – at the moment" I heard the unspoken threat and looked at her smiling face.

"What do you want from me ?" I asked with a mixture of suspicion and fear.

"Well, for starters I'd like to know more about your little hobby. I'd like to see your bondage equipment". I couldn't take this in, what was happening ?

"Now !" she said as I hesitated, and although she was still smiling there was a steely look in her eyes. As if in a daze, I meekly led her up to my bedroom and opened the blanket box where I kept everything.

"Lay it out on the bed for me, so I can see it better". I did so, laying out padlocks, chains, ropes, handcuffs, belts and gags – I was a little surprised at how much I had accumulated over the years.

"Nice – but what about sex toys, I'm sure you have a few of those !" Reluctantly, I opened a drawer and took out the various vibrators, dildos and butt plugs I owned and put those on the bed.

"Wow, impressive !" she said. "What about clothes ? I know you're into rubber in a big way, let's see your collection". Feeling sick with embarrassment, I went into another blanket box and started to unload that – as well as the stuff I had been wearing on Saturday, there were several additional pairs of stockings, some crotchless panties, latex opera gloves, a mini-skirt and a sleeveless top. By the time I had put them all out, the bed was covered.

"Hang on, I'll be back in a second" she said and disappeared downstairs. I wanted to cry but realised that, despite everything, just handling the latex had turned me on. Just looking at everything laid out was exciting. Catherine was back less than a minute later and she was carrying her digital camera.

"A snap for the website of you and your stuff" she said, putting the camera to her face and pointing it at me.

"No !" I squealed, "You can't ! I'll be recognised !"

"Hmm, you're right" she mused, as if it hadn't occurred to her. "I'll tell you what. If you put your hood on, you'll be okay. But if you do that, you need to take off your clothes first"

"What ?" I said, just too frightened and confused to understand.

"Simple – stay as you are and I take a picture of schoolteacher Sally with her kinky gear, or strip and I take a picture of Devon bondage girl ready for a session".

Now I understood. I picked up my latex hood, but Catherine said sternly "clothes off first, hood second". My hands were shaking as I unfastened the buttons of my blouse and pulled it off, then loosened my skirt and let it slide to the floor. I looked imploringly at Catherine but she motioned for me to continue, and I slowly removed my bra, covering my breasts with an arm, until I realised I needed both to pull down my knickers and she'd already photographed by boobs anyway. As I kicked off my panties, I grabbed the hood and pulled it quickly over my head. As I did so there was a flash and I realised she had taken her first picture – it wasn't the last. I tried to cover my nakedness but she made me kneel down in front and spread my arms along the edge of the bed, fully exposing myself. After snapping a dozen posed shots, Catherine put down the camera and started to examine the bondage items with more interest.

"Put this on for me, would you ?" she said as she held out my ball gag with head harness, one of my favourites.

"Oh please don't make me do this" I begged in total embarrassment at the situation.

"Well, if you're not happy, that's fine. A quick email to the chairman of governors with a link to your site, updated with your name and address, should give him a clue what sort of person he has working in his school".

"You wouldn't !" I exclaimed, genuinely shocked.

"Try me" she said sternly, holding out the gag. Reluctantly I took it, admitting defeat. I pushed the ball into my mouth and fastened the straps around my face, under my chin and over my head. Catherine came closer and, with a cruel smile, ran her fingers over the ball and my lips.


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"That's better. The sooner you learn to obey my commands, the better". She turned her attention to the chains and handcuffs, before selecting a length of white rope and walking around behind me.

"Put your hands behind your back", she barked, all pretence of this being a game or a bit of fun now dropped. As I did so, she wrapped the rope around them, knotting it tight and then synching between my wrists until there was little room for movement and, when I twisted and struggled, it was clear she had done an efficient job – I would never break free. I felt her wrap the rope around my elbows and start to pull it tight, forcing my arms closer together. I let out an alarmed cry as she yanked on the rope until my elbows were only inches apart, before tying it and again synching it. It felt like my shoulders were about to pop out of their sockets.

"We'll be able to work on that so you're supple enough to have your arms fully pinned together". The thought of 'working on it' filled me with dread but I had no time to contemplate that as she wrapped more rope around my body, pinning my arms and squashing my breasts. She then tied rope around my waist and passed it between my legs as a crotch rope, pulling it so tight before tying it off that it pressed painfully against my clitoris as it cut between my pussy lips.

"There, don't you look a picture ?" she said, then proved it by taking several of me, making me bend over and spread my legs so she could get a good shot of the crotch rope with my bound hands wriggling uselessly above it. I felt sick with shame that these photos would be displayed to the world, but at the same time, the feel of the ropes digging into me and the humiliation of my position were inexorably turning me on. I felt afraid and confused as Catherine roughly led me into the bathroom. At her prompting, I awkwardly stepped into the empty bath and sat down on the cold porcelain. At her orders, I struggled to lie down and twist around until I was lying on my stomach with the lower half of my legs bent up behind me. She grabbed my ankles and wrapped rope around them, tying them across each other, which forced my knees apart against the sides of the bath. I felt her applying more rope and then my head was snapped back as she tied my ankles to the D-ring on the top of my head harness and pulled it shorter until my ankles were only a foot or so from my head. I was struggling to breathe as the stretching of my neck restricted my airway and the fact that my weight was now all pressing down on my stomach and chest. I hardly noticed Catherine wandering around me taking pictures from every possible angle. I could feel beads of sweat breaking out on my brow as every muscle in my body was strained by the strict bondage.

"Oh dear", I heard Catherine say with mock concern, "You're getting all hot and bothered. This will soon cool you down". Suddenly there was a jet of ice cold water in my face and I was struggling even more to breathe as the water seeped around the ball gag and started to fill my mouth. Meanwhile I could hear water rushing into the bath as she also turned on the cold water tap at full blast. I realised that when I'd had a 'cold' shower before, I had never had it really cold as it was now, every drop stinging me like a needle. I could feel the water rising rapidly around me, inching up my prone body until it was lapping at my chin, and still I could hear the water rushing in. As the water started to cover my lower lip and half the red ball in my mouth, the taps were finally turned off, leaving me having to clamp my lips against the ball and breathe only through my nose.

As I strained to look up, I saw Catherine sitting on the edge of the bath, her hand trailing in the water and then cupping it and letting it dribble down my face.

"There, comfortable now ?" she asked rhetorically. "I've just got a few things to do. I'll be back later to see how you're getting on". I struggled to scream No! at her, but only succeeded in starting waves pushing the water over my face and making me swallow a mouthful. Catherine disappeared from my view and I heard the bathroom door shut and I was alone. I panicked and tried to break free of my bonds, even though I knew it was hopeless, but I quickly stopped as I realised that with any movement I risked drowning myself.

I don't know how long she left me there but it was hours rather than minutes. I was freezing cold and couldn't relax for a moment as my muscles were held under such tension by the ropes, and I had to keep biting down on the ball gag to prevent water running down my throat. I felt myself starting to become a little delirious as I lay there, wondering how something I had enjoyed so much had so quickly turned into such a nightmare.

I snapped back to reality when I heard a noise downstairs and then the bathroom door opened and she was back.

"Still here then ?" she joked humourlessly. "Do you want to get out ?" I couldn't say yes or nod my head, I just made some vague noise to convey how much I wanted to get out.

She cut the rope between my head and feet, the result of which was that my legs fell backwards and my head fell forwards, into the water. My body was so stiff I could hardly move and I couldn't get my head out of the water, which was now going up my nose and down my throat. I kicked wildly and desperately as everything started to become dark and my lungs were bursting. Just as I was about to pass out I managed to twist my body sufficiently to raise my head and coughing, spluttering and gasping for breath, I broke the surface. Catherine cut the rope around my ankles and told me to get out, seeming not to notice or care about my distressed state. I hauled myself over the side of the bath and lay on the floor like a landed fish.

She untied my arms and I was finally able to stretch and get some circulation going again. The rope burns on my wrists and arms were quite vivid and as I rubbed them I realised that if I wanted to go out today, I would have to wear long sleeves to cover them up.

"I'm busy for the rest of the day, so I'll leave you to sort yourself out", Catherine said, leaning over my prone body, "But here's something to remind you of your new position in life". As she said this she grabbed my hands and closed the bracelets of a pair of handcuffs around my wrists in front of me. I looked up at her in confusion, saying "What's going on ?" around the gag.

"Ciao, see you in the morning" she said with a little wave, and then she was gone. I stared at the cuffs and twisted my arms this way and that, as though that was going to make any difference. I heard her leave the house and realised I was on my own with this problem. My first priority was to remove the gag, which was making my jaw ache, and it was a huge relief when I managed to unbuckle the harness and pop the ball out. I also pulled off the hood, which was making my scalp sweat. Next was to get out of the handcuffs, but when I went into my bedroom, all my toys, including the other sets of handcuffs and, crucially, all the keys, had gone. I checked drawers, cupboards and boxes but they were nowhere to be found, and I had to conclude that Catherine had taken them all and I was stuck in the cuffs until she freed me.

I had to cut off the crotch rope with a kitchen knife and then I faced the problem of getting dressed. I was able to pull on a pair of track pants and trainers quite easily but, of course, I couldn't put a top on with my wrists cuffed. In the end, the only thing I could find to wear which didn't have sleeves or straps was a boob tube, so I looked a little odd, as if the handcuffs weren't bad enough.

I made myself something to eat, as it was now early evening and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, then sat down to try and work out what I was going to do about the situation I found myself in. Clearly, Catherine intended to make the most of this opportunity – but I didn't really know why she was doing it, was it to punish me, teach me a lesson or was it something else, something darker ? I needed more information and the only place I thought I might find it was on that website she had shown me earlier.

I called it up and was shocked by what I found. The site had been updated and now opened with a close-up of my face, albeit hidden behind the latex mask but it was clear and detailed, not just a grainy shot in the distance, as before. Underneath this was some text, which I read with increasing dismay:

Hi, I'm Devon bondage girl, welcome to my site. I recently became the plaything of Mistress Kat and she has created this site so that you can all share in my love of bondage and submission. My Mistress will post updates here whenever she can, so check back frequently. Maybe one day I'll have the courage to tell you my real name and I can stop hiding behind this mask. In the meantime, please enjoy.

The threat of exposure in the message was clear, but the way Catherine had called herself my 'Mistress' and me her 'plaything' was even more frightening – it was obvious the relationship she intended to impose on me, one in which she was the clear dominant and I the reluctant submissive.

Below the message were three links with thumbnail pictures, labelled 'In A Hole', 'My Toy Collection' and 'In The Bath' and I noticed that the counter had jumped to '014294'. I followed each to find a matrix of thumbnail pictures behind them, showing me in the various situations. I checked each picture carefully to see if my identity or the identity of my house was revealed, but they were thankfully anonymous. As I browsed the pictures, I found myself becoming aroused by the views of me in tight bondage and I remembered how good the ropes had felt, cutting into me and rubbing against my skin as I struggled vainly against them. My hands moved down between my thighs and then I was fingering myself, bringing myself to a noisy climax as I stared at my frightened face behind the hood, my lips stretched tight around the ball gag, which was slick with my saliva. When I was done I slumped across the computer and sobbed quietly, utterly devoid of ideas how I was going to escape. I went to bed miserable that night, my head spinning as I tried to work out what to do, but every time I thought about being tied up by Catherine I found my fingers in my pussy, working me to another climax. I did not sleep well, and my dreams were all of bondage and imprisonment.

The next morning I felt like shit but I had decided I needed to confront Catherine and stop this once and for all. I waited nervously for her to arrive and then showed her in.

"Ah, I see you've checked out the updates to the website", she said, indicating the laptop on the table.

"Catherine, we have to talk –" I started but she held up a finger.

"From now on you must address me as 'Mistress Kat' or 'Mistress'. You have to understand and accept your place".

"Catherine, I don't like this, you have to unlock these –" This time I was stopped by a slap across the face, the force of which knocked me sideways against the wall.

"I don't have to do anything !" she screamed into my face. "You still don't get it, do you ? I own you ! If you don't do what I say, I will destroy you ! It would take me a matter of minutes to add your name and address to this website and email a link to everyone at school, everyone in the village, all your friends, even Devon Life ! Now get down on your knees and beg my forgiveness !" Stunned, I sank to my knees in front of her and mumbled at the floor.

"I can't hear you !" she shouted.

"Please forgive me, Mistress" I repeated more loudly. She smiled down at me and ruffled my hair like I was a c***d.

"You're young and all this is new to you, I'll forgive you – this time" she said patronisingly. "Now you need to get changed, we have a busy day ahead of us". I stood up and she unlocked the handcuffs. I was just about to go upstairs when she called out.

"Wear that rubber skirt and top. And those shoes you wore on Saturday". I had never worn any of them in public before, but I had no choice and a few minutes later I came downstairs, dressed in black latex. Catherine did not look pleased.

"Did I tell you to put on underwear ? Take it off !" I slipped my bra off and pulled down my knickers, trying to lower the hem of the skirt to cover my privates.

Catherine had brought her open-top sports car and I got in, but then she reached over me and clicked a handcuff bracelet around my right wrist. Grabbing my other wrist she pulled both arms above my head and locked them together through the metal arch of the head restraint behind me. I looked on aghast as she calmly got into the driver's seat and set off slowly through the village. I frantically tried to cover the cuffs with my hands and act casual as we drove past a number of pedestrians but I could do nothing to hide the glistening black latex through which my nipples were clearly visible. I got a few curious looks before we were out into the open country. After a while we joined the motorway and I guessed we were heading for Bristol, the nearest big city, where at least the chances of anyone recognising me were minimal. Every time we passed a truck, Catherine sounded her horn, which made the driver look down on my rubber-clad figure in surprise and delight, drawing a responding hoot of appreciation.


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At last we reached the city and Catherine parked in a multi-storey car park. She released me, putting the handcuffs in her handbag, then led me out into the shopping centre. I blushed bright red as I felt eyes on me from every direction, women barely disguising their disgust while the men ogled me openly and I heard a couple of wolf whistles as well as laughs and whispered comments. We stopped outside a hair salon and Catherine grabbed my arm.

"We're going in here and you are not to say a word in there, not one, understand ?" I nodded my head.

"Answer me properly" she hissed.

"Yes ... Mistress, I understand" I whispered reluctantly. We went inside and waited for the manager to come over.

"Hi" Catherine said, "I have an appointment ? My friend wishes to have a drastic change of image, I hope you can help". I looked at her in astonishment as the manager called over a stylist and they discussed what they would do to my hair !

"I think she needs something totally different, a new look", Catherine said airily. The stylist seemed to accept that I had no say in this and showed a book of styles to Catherine, from which she selected one, making sure I did not see. Ten minutes later, she was sipping a cappuccino and my beautiful long blonde hair was all over the floor.

I'll admit that she did a good job, highlighting and lowlighting what was left of my hair, which had been cropped into a pageboy cut, with my ears exposed and the hair off my neck, but I was devastated, I hadn't had my hair this short since I was eight ! I felt even more conspicuous when we went back into the shopping centre, but Catherine showed no sympathy.

"Cheer up", she said, "It will be so much easier to wear your hood with all that hair gone. See how I'm thinking of your comfort !" I tottered along on my heels behind her as she strode purposefully on. I realised I was totally reliant on her at this point, as she had not allowed me to bring any credit cards or money, I didn't even have my mobile phone. So I followed along behind her, like a c***d, unable to make my own decisions or choices.

We went into a bar in the city centre which was crowded with office workers having finished their day and relaxing, men in suits who looked around when we came in and stared at me as we pushed our way through to a small table and sat down. Catherine handed me a ten pound note and told me to go to the bar.

"I'll have a double G&T and you'll have a pint glass of tap water" she ordered. I had to push my way to the bar and I soon found that guys weren't moving out of the way, they were just leering at me and making me squeeze myself against them to get by. I finally got to the bar and got served, but then had to run the gauntlet again and this time I felt a couple a gropes of my arse and a grab at my tits. I got back to the table and sat with my eyes on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

"Wait here" Catherine said, then stood up with her drink and wandered over to a group of men on a nearby table. I couldn't hear what they were discussing, but I saw them look over at me several times and I saw the men smiling and laughing at whatever Catherine had told them. I felt myself blush furiously again and I looked at my drink with great intensity.

"Hello, darling, buy you a drink ?" I heard next to me and looked up into the face of a man in his mid-twenties, tie skewed and clearly the worse for drink. He pushed onto the seat next to me and I felt his hand grab my thigh, his fingers digging into my skin as he pushed the hem of my skirt up. I tried to pull his hand away but his grip was too tight, and then he leaned into me so I got a face full of his beery breath. His mouth clamped over mine and I simultaneously felt him grope my breast as his tongue tried to force its way into my mouth.

"Hey you" I heard Catherine growl, "Why don't you fuck off back under the rock you crawled out from ?"

"What's it to you, darling ?" the man slurred, "Can't she decide for herself ?"

"No, she can't. She's mine. Now fuck off". The drunk got up and staggered back to his friends, and I heard "fucking dykes" offered as explanation.

"I can't leave you for a minute, can I ?" Catherine said with some annoyance, then pulled me up out of the seat and led me towards the toilets. I recognised the guy Catherine had been talking to standing in the corridor and I saw him glance at her and give a little nod. Suddenly she was bundling me into the men's toilet and down to the end of the row of cubicles.

"What's going on ?" I asked as she forced me into the cubicle and made me sit on the seat. Saying nothing, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Oh my God, please don't do this !" I begged as she grabbed my arm and locked the bracelet around it, then twisted it behind my back, before grabbing my other arm and pulling that behind me too. The ratchet clicked shut and my wrists were locked together around the pipe on the wall behind me. Catherine pulled me forward and forced me to kneel on the tiles with the toilet bowl pressing against my back. She pulled out a second pair of cuffs and locked my ankles together behind the base of the toilet.

"Oh please, Mistress" I wailed desperately, "I'll do anything, please don't do this !" Again there was no reply but I watched in horror as she took a ring gag out of her bag. I whined and tried to turn my head away but she managed to force the ring into my mouth and strap it tightly into place. Now all I could do was whimper as she smiled down at me and patted my cheek.

"Don't be afraid" she said soothingly, "Just think of this as one of your public bondage games". She turned and walked out of the cubicle before closing the door on me, and I saw the small bolt slide across as she used a coin to lock the door from the outside. I listened as her shoes clicked across the tiles and the door swung open and then closed behind her. Maybe that is it, I thought with more hope than expectation, maybe she's going to leave me here, chained up in the men's toilets for a couple of hours, while men go in and out, unaware of my presence behind the closed door ? But somehow I didn't believe it. I heard the main door swing open, a man's footsteps cross the room, then I saw the bolt in front of me slide back. Then the door had opened and quickly closed, and the man Catherine had spoken to, who had given her the signal that the toilets were unoccupied, was standing in front of me.

"Jesus", he breathed, "She wasn't lying. Are you alright ?" Hoping this was compassion, I shook my head vigorously and begged him to help me.

"Wow, just like she said you'd be" he said and I realised he thought this was all my fantasy game, that I was pretending. He unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down to his knees, followed by his boxer shorts. His cock was fully erect and, as he held my hair and my chin in a vice-like grip, I had no choice but to watch and feel and taste as he slid it through the ring and into my mouth. He let out a moan of pleasure as he pushed it deeper. I've never enjoyed giving head or been particularly good at it, as I have a strong gag reflex, and I started to retch as he thrust to the back of my throat. He pulled back, but it was not in any consideration for me as he thrust his shaft into my mouth again. Each thrust made me choke and retch, so the noises I was making were quite gross, but he didn't care, he just kept banging away until his cock twitched and, with a strangulated cry, he spurted his cum into my mouth. If I thought I was choking before, this was worse as now I couldn't breathe either. As he pulled out through the ring, I began a coughing fit which splattered cum all over his nice suit. With a curse, he grabbed my hair and turned my head away until I had stopped coughing and swallowed what was left in my mouth. Moments later he was gone and the bolt moved across to lock me in once more.

Just when I thought the ordeal was over, the door was unlocked and I was joined by another man. The process was repeated, as I was forced to take him in my mouth as well. He was different in that he expected me to use my tongue to stimulate him and he dragged my head slowly back and forth on his cock rather than him doing any of the work. The result was the same though and I felt sick as I had to swallow his cum as well.

When a third man entered the cubicle, I desperately tried to remember how many guys had been sitting at that table – four, five ? I now felt sure they were all going to abuse me before I was released. This guy slid his erection in slowly but ignored my choking and gagging as he pushed it as deep as he could, his pubic hair pressed into my face, then sliding it all the way back out and rubbing his cock against my lips and cheek. Inevitably, when he came he was not in my mouth and his cum spurted into my face, hitting me in the eye and across my nose. Instinctively I turned away, but that just meant his second spurt went on my cheek and in my hair. He told me to stick my tongue out and when I did so, he wiped his cock on it to clean off the last of his cum.

The next time the door opened, it was Catherine who came in and, to my intense relief, released the handcuffs and took off the gag.

"Get yourself cleaned up" she ordered, before leaving me to it. I struggled up off the floor and out of the cubicle to the row of sinks. I looked dreadful in the mirror and had to wash my hair as well as my face in the sink to get the cum out of it and I used a paper towel to wipe away the spunk which had dribbled down onto my top. As I finished, the door swung open and a rather surprised gent walked in, having checked the door to ensure he was in the right place. I rushed past him without a word and went back into the bar. Catherine was sitting with the group of guys who had just abused me, chatting, drinking, laughing, but when she saw me the smile disappeared and she got up. We left the bar and I was very relieved when we went back to the car.

"Take off those clothes" she barked as she opened the boot of the car.

"What ?!" I exclaimed, looking around to see if anyone was watching. She swung around and caught me with a slap across the cheek which knocked me to the ground.

"Don't you dare question my orders !" she screamed. I scrambled to my feet and quickly took off the top and skirt, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood in the public car park naked, holding out my only clothes. She snatched them from me and threw them into the boot, then whipped out the handcuffs again and locked my arms behind me. She took out the ring gag and put it back in my mouth, then told me to get into the boot. Awkwardly I clambered in and lay down on my stomach as she ordered, then felt her pull my legs up behind me and cuff them, with the two sets of cuffs entwined so that I was chained into a hogtie. The boot lid slammed down and I was left in pitch black, terrified about what I would have to endure next.

Thankfully, the next stop was outside my house. Catherine freed my legs and helped me struggle out of the car. It was dark and there was a distinct autumn chill as I stood there naked.

"I hope you enjoyed your day as much as I did" she said, "I'll see you tomorrow" And with that, she drove off, leaving me still handcuffed and gagged ! I watched her go in disbelief, but realised I'd better get inside before someone saw me. I needed to eat something, I was starving, but I couldn't with the gag in my mouth. My throat was dry but how could I get a drink ? In the end I stuck my head under a running tap and lapped at the water. I went to bed that night incredibly hungry and miserable, fearful of what the morning would bring.