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Strapping Time
by Jenny Bonici
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© Copyright 2017 - Jenny Bonici - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/ff; bond; naked; leather; straps; hood; gag; hogtie; contest; cons; X
jpn
Strapping Time Jenny Bonici M/ff; bond; naked; leather; straps; hood; gag; hogtie; contest; cons; X
Story published to celebrate the life of the author Jenny Bonici, who sadly has passed over way too early from Leukaemia. Jenny sent in many stories over the years from 2002-2014. Her friend Doug sent me the remaining stories and said, "A few years ago Jenny contributed a number of stories to the Plaza. You may not have realised that at the time she was suffering from Leukaemia. Unfortunately the Leukaemia finally got the better of her. She was a bubbly personality and put on a very brave face in spite of knowing that she was dying. We all miss her."
 

“Now that sounds like an interesting idea.” Said Mandi when it was suggested that we try bondage using leather straps instead of our usual ties using rope or duct tape. The only problem was that we did not have any leather straps.

As we both were bordering on being stony broke at the time, there was little chance of either of us dashing off to the nearby store where we usually got our bondage gear to buy a selection of leather straps.

At this point Simon piped up. “Come round to my place sometime, I’ve got plenty of leather gear you can try on if you’re interested.”

Neither Mandi nor I needed a second invitation. That is why we found ourselves at Simon’s place the following weekend.

Simon was a great one for coming up with bright ideas, so it was no surprise when he said. ”Let’s have a competition. Let’s see which of you two can last the longest without saying the safe word or begging for release. There won’t be a prize – the one who lasts longest will have the bragging rights that she is the toughest slave and outlasted the other.” Now that sounded like a fun way to spend the rest of the afternoon and maybe the evening - or even on into the night.

Simon dragged a box of assorted straps and other leather gear out from under his bed and we both followed him back into his lounge room.

“OK, get you gear off and we’ll start.”

As I had stripped off first he said that he would start with me.

He pulled a soft black leather slave hood over my head and laced it up at the back. At the bottom of the hood was a wide leather collar that he buckled round my neck and secured with a padlock. The hood was not going to come off in a hurry.

“Open wide.” He said as he pushed a fat pear-shaped gag into my mouth and made sure that all the press studs snapped into place so that there was no way that I could push it out with my tongue. Then came the padded leather blindfold. Again it was held in place by four press studs.

He pulled my arms behind my back and buckled a wide leather strap round my wrists. Another strap went round my arms above my elbows. He seemed to delight in pulling this extra tight until my elbows were just about touching.

He got me to lie on the floor so that he could strap my ankles and above and below my knees. Again padlocks clicked closed to make sure these straps were there for keeps. Then he put another strap around my body above my breasts. I was soon to find out the purpose of this last strap when he used a final strap to link my ankles to the chest strap. He pulled this one so tight that my head was lifted off the floor and my body was arched in a severe hogtie.

I began to wonder just how long it would be before I asked for release. However I was determined to beat Mandi who I assumed was now being bound in a similar manner. Simon had said that he was going to strap up Mandi in another room where there was more space. As music from a Stones concert that Simon had downloaded was playing on the TV, there was no way that I could hear if she was being subjected to the same torture as me. Perhaps it was all a plot to get me tied up while the pair of them spent the afternoon in bed. But I had to assume that Mandi was also suffering like me and there was no way that I wanted her to win. So I was just going to have to stick it out as long as I could.

After about half an hour, or was it an hour – I had completely lost track of time – I felt hands tugging on the hogtie strap. “Are you OK? Do you want out? “ It was Simon’s voice. I tried to ask if Mandi had given up but my words just came out as a mumble past the gag and through the drool that was now dribbling freely from my mouth. Simon seemed to get the message as he told me that Mandi hadn’t given up. That’s just what I didn’t want to hear.

Finally I had to give in. If I didn’t go to the bathroom soon I would embarrass myself all over the carpet. I called out the safe word - three hoots past the gag. There was no response so I hooted again. Finally after several tries I felt a pair of hands undoing the buckles. No, that wasn’t a pair of hands – that was two pairs of hands. The second pair must be those of Mandi. I had won! I looked at the clock, I had lasted about 2 hours.

After I was free and had visited the bathroom I asked how long Mandi had lasted. “Oh, just over an hour and a half.” Was the reply.

“So why did you two leave me tied up for so long?” I asked.

“We wanted to see just how long you could go.”

I still do not know whether that was a true answer or whether the pair of them had spent the whole afternoon screwing the daylights out of one another in the bedroom.

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21.07.17

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