Gromet's Plaza Bondage Stories
Leanne's Revenge
by Jenny Bonici
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© Copyright 2006 - Jenny Bonici - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/m; bond; toys; cons/nc; XX
Google translation
Leanne's Revenge by Jenny Bonici F/m; bond; toys; cons/nc; XX
 

At college Leanne and I had become close friends.  She was tall and always immaculately dressed.  In addition she had a figure that men would drool over and shoulder length naturally wavy auburn hair that would have not seemed out of place in any L’Oreal commercial.  She was great company but men found her a bit of a challenge, as she was extremely brainy (she graduated with two degrees – one in computer science and the other an honours in economics).  But what seemed to put men off more than her being more intelligent than they were was that she had a slight hair lip.  So all you’ve been told about men only being attracted by tits and bums is a lot of rot – the face is the most important asset a girl has. 

There was one student, Greg, who really got up Leanne’s nose as he had often made derogatory remarks about her lip.  So it was not a surprise that when he turned up one evening at UniTies, the campus bondage club, Leanne saw her opportunity to get her revenge.

The evening’s fun and games had been in full swing for some time when Leanne wandered in looking like something out of the pages of Vogue.  Her eyes lit up when she saw Greg already as naked as the day he was born, with a fat gag filling his mouth and his arms tightly bound behind his back.

Without even taking off her tailored jacket she walked over and greeted him with, “Welcome to the club Greg.  I think you’ll enjoy it here but first let’s see what else we can try on you.”

She quickly had his ankles and knees bound as tightly as his arms.  Then she buckled a collar round his neck.  Clipping a leash to the collar she towed him hopping behind her across the room.  On reaching the middle she tied off the end of the leash to a ring in the floor.   As the leash was barely three feet long poor Greg was bent double.  Then she found another short length of rope and secured his ankles to the same ring in the floor.  He didn’t have chance to sink to his knees as Leanne tied his wrists to a rope dangling from a pulley hanging from the ceiling and pulled his arms up behind his back in a strict strappado. 

“Now that should fix you for a while.  Just stay there while I go and get into something more comfortable.” Then turning to the others in the room she added, “Don’t any of you dare feel sorry for him, he’s mine.” 

With hips swinging and obviously feeling very pleased with her efforts so far she picked up her Gucci bag and strode out of room.  It must have been fifteen or twenty minutes later that she reappeared.   Gone was the tailored suit with the pencil skirt.  She now was clad from head to foot in a black lycra catsuit.  Gone too were the stylish black heels, in their place were knee-high black leather boots with equally high heels.  In her hands she brandished a plaited leather whip.

“Now, be a good fellow and keep still, this will not hurt.”  She said as she gently stroked her victims pink ass.  With that she stepped back and let fly with the first of twenty or more stinging strokes across his cheeks.  With each stroke he tried to twist out of the line of fire but with his wrists, ankles and neck secured the way they were, he could not escape the next blow.

“I told you to keep still.  If you keep wriggling about like that I’ll just keep working on your bum on until you learn your lesson and stop moving about.”

Soon his bum was criss-crossed with a pattern of red weals.  By now Greg’s protests had subsided to a few whimpers that he managed to squeeze out past his gag.

Leanne turned again to the audience that had gathered round.  “I haven’t finished yet.  I’ve got another surprise for our Greg.  I won’t be long;” she paused and then added, “But then perhaps I will.”  

Once more she left the room only to return a few minutes later wearing the most enormous strap-on and carrying a jar of KY Jelly.   After well lubricating his ass hole she took up position behind him, grabbed his hips with both hands and slowly inch by painful inch pushed the shaft into him.  Only after its full length was buried in him and she had paused so that he could savour the moment did she start to rock her pelvis rhythmically and drive the shaft in and out.  From the look on her face and the noises that were coming from her lips it was obvious that at any moment she was going to have an earth-shattering climax.  It was only then that I noticed that she had unzipped the crotch of her catsuit and the other end of the dong was deep inside her.

After two, perhaps three, orgasms she stopped but did not pull the shaft out of his ass hole.  Instead she unbuckled the straps round her waist and stood back.  “I think I’ll leave it in, I hate him to feel a draught up there and perhaps catch a cold.”  With that she buckled the straps round Greg’s waist so that there was no chance of him forcing the shaft out.

“His arms and shoulders must be killing him by now – it’s been nearly and hour since I hoisted them up behind his back.  I’d better let them down before I go and clean myself up.”

As she slowly let his arms down he crumpled in a heap on the floor.  Then she undid the bonds that secured his collar and ankles to the ring in the floor.  At least now he could stretch out.  He tried to work the intruder out from his ass hole but he couldn’t reach the buckles on the straps that held it in place.

“He looks like he reckons he can escape.  We’ll soon fix that.  Pass that hood over.”  She pointed to a full punishment hood that was lying on a nearby table.  Greg’s head was soon encased in leather and Leanne was pulling the lacing tight down the back.  Gagged, tightly bound and not being able to see, there was no way he was going to escape now.

Satisfied with her work Leanne again left the scene to clean herself up.  This time it was about half an hour before she returned with not a hair out of place and once again looking like something out of the pages of Vogue.  By the time she returned someone had kindly hogtied Greg so, as they said, “… he would not hurt himself while trashing about on the floor.”

“Oh you are a kind-hearted lot,” said Leanne with a big smile spreading across her face.  “… but look what I’ve got.  This should keep him under control until for a while.”  She brought out a CD3000 male chastity device.

“Where on earth did you find that?” I asked.

“Never you mind.  Give me a had putting it on.”

After a bit of struggling – mainly by Greg – we soon had his penis inside and the ring locked round the base of his scrotum.

“Tell him that the only way he’s going to get it off is to cut his balls off.   I’ve got the keys and I’m going overseas for a holiday.  I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”  Leanne slipped the keys into her purse.  “I’ll see you at the meeting the week after I get back.” 

With that she gathered up her bag and headed for the door, pausing just before she left to add, “Oh, don’t forget to untie him and turn the lights off before you leave!”  She closed the door behind her, got into her small blue car and headed off into the night.

We left Greg tied up for about a quarter of an hour – just so that he could get used to the feel of his sex piece being locked out of harms way.  Once he was untied he tried desperately to get the contraption off - all to no avail.  In fact he tried to remove it even before he got rid of the shaft that was still filling his ass hole.  Telling him that the CB3000 would not show underneath his normal clothes did little to reassure him. 

For Greg the weeks passed all too slowly. But Leanne had forgotten about there being no UniTies meeting on the Easter weekend.  So the three weeks turned into four.  At last the night arrived and Greg was one of the first to walk through the door.  Leanne?  Well she arrived late of course; again looking like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine.   But as she walked into the room I noticed two small keys hanging from her charm bracelet.

 

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16.12.06 | updated - 07.04.17

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