Ballet Bound

by kbound44

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© Copyright 2006 - kbound44 - Used by permission

Storycodes: FF/m; bond; balletwear; slave; reluct; XX

The van rolled slowly to a stop. I felt light-headed, seemingly not enough air. Excitement mingled with fear as I tried to move in my exquisite prison, a soundproof rectangular wooden chamber underneath the solidly built in seats of the dining area in the rear of the conversion van. Measuring twelve inches high, twenty inches wide and seventy-two inches long, it was a perfect fit. Tightly bound and heavily gagged, lying on my back, the top of my head and the bottom of my feet pressed against the ends, shoulders snug against the sides. On the outside panel, decorative gold vents at either end provided air, augmented by a small electric fan flush mounted to the right of my head. To anyone, it was a typical vacation vehicle, one of the many on the busy interstate. I tried to squirm but to no avail. Sealed perfectly in this coffin- like arrangement, an invisible captive. 

They prepared early that morning. My outfit was laid out: snug black dance belt, women�s black footed tights, women�s black Capezio ballet slippers and a black, long sleeve, turtleneck leotard. Dressed, they began to secure me lying on my back upon the narrow black lacquer coffee table in the large living room of their luxurious hillside home. Lisa, tall, lithe, black haired, stood menacingly over me, " hands against your sides, ankles together, toes pointed in your pretty soft slippers my love." Face reddening, complying to her strict commands, the table felt cool against my nylon clad back as I looked up towards the high vaulted ceiling, a gold fan slowly turning. Distant voices from the house next door, a party? How could they ever suspect my plight! Suddenly, Kappi, petite, shapely, blonde, appeared, her large blue eyes twinkling as she surveyed my supine position. 

"You are our own personal transvestite captive, subject to our desires and whims. This little trip will find you bound and gagged constantly, your ability to move or speak totally our decision. A mere piece of baggage." Lisa suddenly swung over me, on my stomach, pinning my arms to my sides. Gasping, I opened my mouth for air, trying to scream. Kappi was ready and quick, thrusting a soft white leather wadding into my mouth, painfully packing it. A large square of white surgical tape sealed my lips. Whimpering, I could barely utter a sound as they began to bind me. Quickly Lisa switched positions, expertly rolling me over, reversing behind and applying a powerful full nelson, firmly pressing both hands into the back of my neck, paralysing my arms, numb and weakly angled out at my sides. Slipper clad feet flailing, Kappi grabbed both ankles and held tight. 

"Whoa lady, be still, I want to fit you in some nice leather, stop your struggling or Lisa will really hurt you! " I relaxed and became limp, Kappi laughing, releasing my ankles, produced a pair of black leather bondage pants. Kappi guided the bondage pants quickly on, cinching the waist drawstring, knotting and locking the arrangement with a small padlock at the small of my back. Side buckles encircled my wrists, pulling them into the sides of my thighs. My knees were pushed together and held as a fine chaining arrangement sewn into each knee drawstring clicked shut. Facing into the black table, I tried to resist as my ankles were roughly crossed tied. A rope began to wind around my shoulders several times, pulling taut. Lisa then began to work a pair of her nylons over my head, winding the legs around my neck and tying them off, whispering in my ear, " be still bound ballet boy, clad in leather and nylon from head to toe, always at our discretion, helpless." 

The panel popped out, light and air rushed into the coffin-like box. Squinting, my muscles painfully stiff. Lisa was like a purring cat, on her hands and knees, surveying my predicament. Firmly grabbing an ankle and arm, she pulled me from the solid wooden chamber. She slipped her arms around my shoulders, clamping hands across my chest, quickly pulling me upright off the floor, my toes barely touching. Kappi helped as I was lain face down on the small dining area table. I tried to make a sound through the wadding, tape and nylon encasement. Lisa chuckled, " don�t even, it�s useless. " She grabbed the back of my neck, firmly, into the table. " Nurse Kappi has a little injection for you, something to help you sleep while we bring you into the hotel. " I could feel one of my nylon sleeves being rolled up. " Drugged, you will be stuffed into a very small double locked trunk, still tied of course, and be brought up to our suite." said Lisa. " The lobby crowded with happy vacationers and their children, playfully circling your trunk, no one in their wildest imagination would suspect," cooed Kappi. The swabbing, the prick on my arm. " When you come to, you will still be our helpless captive, " said Lisa. A grey dullness began to envelope me... 

Groggily, my eyes opened, still clad in the same outfit from the morning, I was on my back in the middle of a very large bed. Not tied or gagged, trying to sit up when a strong hand clamped over my mouth, forcing me flat on my back! It was Lisa continuing the pressure, I remained still, knowing her strength. " Do not make a sound , " she hissed. " He seems fine, lets tie him up and go, " chirped Kappi. Spider like, they both moved over me... The bed became a place of frenzied activity. Lisa roughly shoved the same soggy white leather wadding into my sore mouth, sealing it with a fresh square of white surgical tape. The custom black leather bondage pants were secured: waist drawstring cinched, knotted and locked, wrists buckled, knee chain clicked shut, ankles crossed and tied. I was totally helpless as they lifted me from the large soft bed to the hard small trunk. As they lowered me in, my knees were drawn into my chest to fit. Lisa brought out a two inch black strap, winding it around my back and just below the front of my knees, forcing me into a an extreme folded position. Lisa and Kappi seemed very pleased at my discomfort, I tried to look up but they quickly slammed the lid shut. Enveloped in total darkness, the muffled clicks of the trunk locks, then the suite door shutting. 

They wasted no time in starting their vacation. I was a total prisoner, boxed up, sealed, to be used as they wished. Lying uncomfortably in the blackness of the stuffy trunk, my mind wandered back to the day I was first abducted... It was a fine sunny day entering through the heavy metal door of the small windowless warehouse suite. My mail order dance supply was doing modestly. In this quiet industrial park there was never a walk in customer so it became a habit to slip into slippers, tights and a leotard to work comfortably. Quickly changing into a white dance belt, white men�s high waisted Repetto tights, white, long sleeve, turtleneck leotard and inexpensive pink Capezio "studio" ballet slippers with the straps already sewn in. Some bondage items were in order, three-inch black leather ankle and wrist cuffs, locked on with small silver padlocks. No other restraints were in order, I needed to move freely to get some work done. The hours flew by as I focused on inventory. 

Late in the afternoon, the heavy metal door swung open. The back of my neck tingled, face flushed, caught totally unawares, I turned to face the door. It was the leasing agent, Sylvia, tall, thin, pale, raven haired, with two other women, it turned out to be Lisa and Kappi. They laughed; I felt I was at a big disadvantage, outnumbered three to one. " See, I told you, " said Sylvia, " I knew we would find him in slippers and tights, this is going to be too easy. " The small blonde levelled a small black handgun at me. " Get up on that counter, on your back and shut up! " Immediately complying, I was lying on my back on the small glass display counter. They were over me instantly. "Hands to your sides, ankles together, toes pointed, lie still and quiet." What was happening? Outside, the other businesses were closing for the weekend. Soon the area would be deserted. This had been timed well. " Open your mouth, " she commanded as a heavy black leather brank gag was fitted, the hard leather insert ramming in, Lisa continued, pulling taut, buckling from behind, my eyes grew wide, tears forming at the harsh pressure. Sylvia laughed, " you unwittingly provided me with the perfect information when you applied for this space. It was perfect! You fell into my web, a true submissive to be snatched as soon as I found a way to sell you off. Lisa and Kappi want you, I want your business. It is being arranged legally. No one will be the wiser as I take over." 

" Get used to this, " said Kappi as Lisa rolled me to my stomach. " You will be constantly gagged, unable to speak, a designed mute. " My ankles were pulled together and roped through the inside metal u- links of the leather ankle cuffs. My wrists were fastened in the same way with leather wrist cuffs. Unwittingly, I made it easier for my kidnappers to render me instantly helpless. A rope was wound above and below my knees. Elbows almost touching, ropes cinched above and below my elbows. Multiple winds of rope around the shoulders. Facing into the cool glass, I tried to struggle but was held perfectly. A thin, long fingered hand grasped the back of my neck firmly, " be still," hissed Sylvia into my ear. She planted a sweet kiss on cheek. Soft silicone plugs were inserted into my ears and taped into place. Flipping me over on my back, Lisa closed my eyelids as cotton was placed over each eyelid and taped. Bound hand and foot, the evil brank gag totally covering the bottom half of my face, unable to hear or see, I felt myself being lifted from the glass counter. They would do as they wished. Needless to say, I never saw Sylvia or the business again. Numb with fear, they easily transported me to a planned location. 

As promised, torment was constant as I was continuously resecured to fit my new surroundings. At present, Kappi dressed me in a flesh colored dance belt, sheer pantyhose and women�s white ballet slippers. The ultimate restraint device, a white leather straight jacket, encased my body from the waist up. Arms inserted into the oversize sleeves, crossed and tightly held across my chest, double buckled and padlocked from behind. There was also a waist drawstring arrangement, pulled painfully into the back of my waist, triple knotted and padlocked. Kappi slipped my ankles into a pair of old style metal handcuffs, with a single chain loop. Lying in the blackness of the small, stuffy closet, I wanted to scream. Toes pointed, I tried to stretch, squirming against the leather gripping my upper body and the metal holding my ankles, the red rubber ballgag firmly set in my mouth. The things they had planned, snugly fitted bras, panties, nylons, silk blouses, leather skirts and spike heel pumps along with relentless bondage seemed oddly attractive. Obviously, these two had some devious plans in store for me. 

In the darkened room, tied to a bare wooden chair, muffled voices sounded through the locked door, the light laughter of a celebrated accomplishment among fellow conspirators. Earlier they forced me to sign documents giving Lisa and Kappi all legal control. A soft black, small anal plug, had been inserted, a swatch of surgical tape an extra precaution. My penis was sheathed in red latex, a sized silver ring encircling the base of my penis, keeping me erect with no chance of relief. A snug white dance belt, women�s pink footed tights, women�s pink ballet slippers and a women�s black, long sleeve, small keyhole back, turtleneck leotard completed my body packaging. I was tied to a bare wooden chair. My ankles were roped to each front chair leg, each wrist roped behind the chairback to each upright. A black leather belt wound firmly around my chest to the chairback, no slack, buckled behind. A strong light silver chain encircled my waist, padlocked firmly at the small of my back, the single length of chain coming from that padlock snaked down out the chairback, down to the crossbrace between the two rear legs, where it was wrapped around and padlocked again. Grey duct tape wrapped around my head, holding the soft white cloth firmly packed in my mouth. 

Their lawyer friend, Nina, six foot, long legged, firm body, blonde, presented the documents as I "sat" at the large black dining room table. Lisa freed my right hand, letting me "sign" but quickly applying the rope. Nina was radiant, feeding off my helplessness, shuffling the documents, initialling, counter- signing with my owners, her gaze fixed on me. She stood up, towering, long sleeve silk blouse, black leather mini- skirt, black nylons with spike heel pumps." Your willing signature has sealed your fate, Lisa and Kappi have total legal jurisdiction over you. " I could not move a muscle while Lisa tilted my chair back and began to pull me from the table, out of the large dining room. Nina blew a kiss as Kappi laughed, Nina, " I am going to keep you for a few weeks while the girls vacation. They were much too easy with you. I have some strict ideas to keep you an immobile slave, a mere piece of ornamentation to have around. " 

They were pointing and laughing as I was set in the adjacent room, Lisa closing the door, quickly checking my bonds. Lisa purred into my ear, " she is a very strong woman who will manipulate like a living puppet, devising various tortures. Oh, by the way, she is also a registered nurse, knowing the physical limits she can extend you. Accept it, do not resist." I tried to struggle as Lisa turned her back, walked from the room, clicking off the light, closing the door, leaving me in silent darkness. Lisa was right. Nina was extreme, keeping me continuously restrained and totally helpless. She kept me in balletwear constantly, a favorite being black dance belt, women�s grey footed tights, women�s pink ballet slippers and a women�s black, long sleeve, small keyhole back, turtleneck leotard. Of course the anal plug/ sheath/ ring arrangement was standard. 

With her chiselled body, perfected in the gym, she loved to wrestle me through the huge condo. Her height leveraged against me, pounding me into many supine positions, another of Nina�s favorites: she the top, me the bottom. Her only real security concern was secure gagging, some kind of leather arrangement locked on me, the brank gag being a favorite fetish. " I like how flesh colored one makes you look like you have no mouth, an exquisite captive." Or a flesh colored leather hood with no openings except for small nostril openings. This really excited her, but she was selective about it in order to keep the desire level high. So I was stuffed into closets, cupboards and any small spaces. Tied to poles, columns and furniture. Suspended by wrists, torso and ankles. A mere object to manipulate for amusement. Nina loved to have a visitor, say a repairman, working in one part of the condo, alternating between talking, flirting with him and slowly strangling me as I lay bound in another part of the condo. 

In her large brass bed, lying on my side, ankles crossed and tied, another rope pulling my slippered feet into the center of the brass footrail. Wrists crossed and tied behind my back, pulled into the small of my back by another rope attached to a tightly cinched rope encircling my waist. A wadding of soft white leather packed my mouth, sealed in with a square of heavy grey duct tape. There was a rope, noose like, around my neck pulling me into the brass headrail. Perfectly held in the center of the huge bed, any movement tightened the ropes at my feet and neck. Nina had a black leather strap around my neck, coming in every so often, slowly notching it, forcing me to lie absolutely still. She had me. The last thing I saw before blacking out was the evil smile on that beautiful face. 

When Dom Nina had to leave, I had to be secured. The closet in the small bedroom on the second floor had been converted for this purpose. How she had this constructed without arousing suspicion was amazing. No doubt it was some lesbian acquaintances or a blackmail job. At any rate, it was a work of art. The closet was tiny, measuring twenty-four inches wide, forty-eight inches long and sixty inches high. Heavily soundproofed, the walls were padded, institutional quality, in a light grey rubberized material that was indestructible. The floor and ceiling were a flat surface of the same material, the ceiling having a small diameter recessed lite, protected by a thick clear unbreakable plastic lens. This light had a dimmer switch, obviously operated from the outside. It could be very bright, in between or pitch black. There were various plastic coated loops, of the same grey material, at various points in the wall and ceiling. A captive could be secured or suspended from these various points. Air was circulated through a five-inch diameter hole in the far right corner of the ceiling, again, covered by a plastic grill of the same material as the recessed light. 

The entry was the key. From the inside of the bedroom, it looked like a lite oak panelling covered one whole wall. In reality, the irregular divisions of the panelling concealed the twelve-inch wide, sixty-inch tall door that swivelled into the secret chamber. This was unlocked by a small hand held electronic unit, releasing three inner bolts on the door via a programmable combination in the electronic unit. Dependent on Nina�s hurry or mood, I was placed in this chamber in different modes of restraint. The common denominator was she liked to have me gagged in some sort of way, even if it was a totally perfect soundproofed environment. The room itself was decorated in the manner befitting a young teenage girl. Pastels, frills, a small single bed, stuffed animals, Wedgewood Blue dresser. The irony was me secreted within. 

It was more ironic when her niece Rachel, seventeen, brown- haired, pony-tailed, intelligent, inquisitive with a sadistic streak from Boston came to visit for the summer. Then Nina became the stern teacher, Rachel the eager to please student, me the helpless subject. Nina had me for many months. I never saw Lisa or Kappi, although they may have been at Nina�s while I was secreted elsewhere. There were many built - in compartments in which Nina happily stuffed me. Slowly, a variance came to my routine. Nina began to take me to her various SMBD clubs to display and instruct others in her exquisite bondage techniques. I looked forward to these outings, as Nina would have to take me from her condo and drive me to the club, her imagination in these arrangements was both terrifying and exciting. Getting me to her vehicle was easy; the two-car garage was attached. It was how I was dressed and restrained, which vehicle and where I was placed in that vehicle: as a visible passenger or as hidden cargo. I never really knew till she got me to the garage and even that was arousing, slung over her strong shoulder or forced to hobble on my own. It was the thrill of being captive in public, taken to an unknown destination full of strangers. 

Nina was well known and respected in the small, close- knit SMBD community. Maybe even feared. I do not think anyone really knew to the extent to which I was totally dominated. She kept me under strict control and silence at these outings. The meetings topics varied, though inevitably I became a centrepiece, bound up in a humiliating way, others observing in an almost detached manner, asking my proud mistress a technical question of some sort. The highlight was the pitting of one slave against another members slave. This challenge consisted of each slave being equally bound, trying to untie oneself and then overpowering the other. The irony was in the humiliation of being dominated by another submissive while an audience looked on. Nina many times intimated it would give her an extreme erotic pleasure to see me in such a predicament with a female submissive. No doubt she had arranged such a fate. Certainly the daily beatings I incurred at her hands was a good training regime. 

Something was up. I had overheard a phone conversation that Nina was planning to be in Europe for the next few months. Obviously something had to be done with me and tonight�s outing was going to be the answer: it was to be my first challenge. Nina had me in "training" all week. This consisted of her turning up her sadism a few notches, and even for her this was very extreme. The ropes and straps were the tightest they have ever been. Gags were extra painful. The hoods felt like a second skin. Suspensions extreme and into double-digit hours. Immobility constant. Anal plug size increased, the penis sheath/ base ring arrangement was varied to keep just on the verge of initial erection, a constant teasing effect. She called her medical training into play, taking me to the very limit of endurance before pulling me back. Needless to say, the effect was cruelly calculated. A twelve-year-old schoolgirl would be easily able to overpower me and do what she pleased. 

This image quickly faded as I felt Nina pulling hard on the rope that was wound around my ankles. I was lying on my stomach on the soft white living room rug. Nina was finishing tying my crossed ankles together. My outfit was relatively simple for the occasion, even skimpy. The black anal plug was firm, with a swatch of white surgical tape, white latex sheathing enveloping/silver base ring arrangement, the white dance belt very snug. Pink women�s footed tights and pink women�s Capezios encased my legs. The black, long sleeved, zip back, women�s turtleneck leotard felt good. She fully packed my mouth with a large wad of soft white cloth, holding it in with a couple winds of cheap grey duct tape around the lower half of my head. My wrists were crossed and tied behind my back. I felt her let go of my feet, " there we go, all set with the ropes." 

There was a thick, black leather bondage bag stretched out to my left, straps askew. My light bondage was about to increase as Nina rolled me into the bondage bag. It was quickly zipped, my face just protruding through the elastic rimmed oval opening. This had been custom made and it fit me like a glove. There were sewn in straps at the ankles (a double set), above and below the knees, waist, chest (a double set) neck and forehead area. As the straps tightened, I could feel the stifling thickness of the heavy leather. This would surely sap me of any last vestiges of energy. Nina tilted my head up, pulling the black spandex sock hood over my head. Unseeing, she pulled me up, put me on her shoulder, facing down and back. We headed for the garage. The encounter took place in a large, cool, empty storage garage. The center was well lit, outlining a large grey wrestling mat. A crowd of about forty milled about on the fringes of the lit mat. I was lying on my stomach at one corner, bound and gagged as I had been in Nina�s immaculate living room. She was standing in the center, in heels and leather, talking to someone, the referee? 

My "opponent" was in the opposite corner. Asian, petite, but well muscled for her frame, obviously toned by gym work. Dressed, black leather halter, black leather capri pants with beautiful black spike heel pumps. She glanced quickly in my direction, laughing, flexing, talking to two women, one holding a leash to her collared throat. Fear sprang up inside me, trying to mmmph through the gag, the ropes on my crossed ankles and wrists cutting into my skin. This was big trouble, danger, as I had been in the bondage bag for a couple of hours before I was rolled out about fifteen minutes ago. My opponent strutted and flexed, moving freely, confidently, while I lay helpless. Nina was coming towards me. Bending, grabbing my ankles, dragging me on my stomach towards the center of the mat. The buzzing in the crowd increased, some scattered laughter. No doubt at my predicament. Still facing into the mat, I felt my wrist ropes being untied. I tried to mmmph through the gagging. Strong hands kept my shoulders pinned flat into the mat, my free hands jammed into the small of my back as rope started to again wind around my wrists, looping, leaving some slack of about three inches of play between the wrists. My ankles were retied in a similar manner. This little bit of leeway was to let you work on the knots to free oneself. This was the key, whoever was quicker in this escape manuver. 

" He is well secured, does anyone object? ," said the referee. " No objections , the gagging looks excellent as per the lovely Nina�s reputation." The crowd seemed to murmur it approval. " Agreed, " were the voices in unison over me. She was lain next to me, her shining pumps into the field of vision to my right, about two feet away. The leather odour of her shoes wafted into me, an intoxicating sensation. My whole body became rigid with delight, mesmerized by these pumps, helpless. A bell suddenly clanged above us, I froze. She squealed at my hesitation as she swung her hard shoes into the side of my head. Lying as I was I jerked back, arching, my mouth clenching through the tape and wadding. Stars, unfocussed vision, she crashed the pumps into the side of my head a couple more times. Groggily, I felt the smooth leather of her pants sliding over my head as I lay stunned, intertwining around my neck, clamping firmly. The crowd noise was quickly increasing, the referees voice in and out. 

Weakly, I tried to move my fingers to work the hard knots but her thighs immediately tightened on my throat, strangling me, eyes bulging, toes pointing, ankle rope taut. The crowd screamed at her strategy, controlling my air supply everytime I tried to loosen my bonds. Foolishly I tried again and was instantly smothered. Becoming limp, she released. How exquisite, being perfectly held she could work her ropes at leisure, tormenting me repeatedly for the crowd, smothering and strangling. No doubt Dom Nina was wild with erotic pleasure over this turn! Scooting up on me, she forced my head up into her uppermost inside thighs, against her crotch. Barely able to breathe, the leather pressed into me, not being able to see or hear, truly her prisoner as she firmly squeezed, a signal to not resist. I complied quickly. The crowd must have been crazy over this as I was forced to arch my back into this facial prison, my feet angled against the ankle ropes. Slowly she clamped and began to slowly roll on her side, taking me with her, probably to work her ropes. This she-devil had me. Nina had me set up and delivered. 

The victor received the victim, turned over as a captive to be used as she pleased for a month. Nina had kept me weak and docile, always bound and gagged, sometimes drugged for days, hidden away in her condo. No doubt this Asian woman worked out in a gym daily, strong, aggressive, unfettered, vocal, out in the open. I was probably a fantasy for her. She would want to top me again and again. Nina had really worked me over in preparation for this, even using a shoe gag on me, with one of her best pumps in it, for hours at a time, planting a seed for my defeat. Suddenly it was over, vision fuzzy, on my back, tied and gagged just like I started. The garage was empty except for " Asia " and her two female handlers. " Be still and listen captive, Nina has put you in my well-earned care, I have you in my power, in your tights and slippers! " She turned her ropes harshly on me, using her moist gag as a blindfold. They picked me up from the mat, carrying me from the cold garage. 

Kim was a beaten woman. Having come to this country as a "mail order bride," she was immediately taken captive by the SFB, San Francisco Boys. Having to endure their abuse and torture, she was ecstatic to have me in her clutches for a little revenge. Exquisite techniques could be doubly applied to me, and she wasted no time. Her prison became my prison, keeping me on the floor of the small closet of her windowless, basement cell. Imagine, she was sealed underneath the fashionable Victorian Row Home, with me further entombed within, the slave of a submissive. Kim kept the anal/sheath/ring in force, black dance belt, a pair of her own black footed tights and her own well worn black ballet slippers. She slowly wanted to transform me with her own wardrobe to heighten my humiliation and her control. Nipple clamps were always used, slowly increasing the tension with just a little sturdier pair every three or four days. 

On my stomach in the closet, my arms were behind me in an insidious black leather single glove, laced, strapped and padlocked. " This leather was moulded to me. I cried into the night with no relief, it was further tightened, as I will do to you, re-binding you again and again while you bite into your gag. " A pair of old style handcuffs locked firmly on my ankles, the small strong single metal loop keeping my leather clad feet perfectly together. A rope ran from this loop to a heavy gauge metal eyelet drilled into the exact center of the closet baseboard. I was effectively " on pointe , " my slippers pulled perpendicular to the wall, barely off the cold tile. Kim checked this regularly, forcing me to exert an extra effort for form, she often slapped my slippers with a metal ruler if she was not satisfied. Thin black leather straps wound and buckled below and above my knees. Thighs were secured in a similar manner but with a wider strap. 

Kim encased my head in her old full black leather hood, which had only two nostril openings and an air tube protruding on the outside that connected through to the large penis insert on the inside. This could also be converted to an especially horrifying pump gag. A drawstring arrangement under my jaw culminated at the base of the neck, pulled snug and cinched, padlock everything in place. There was a small but sturdy metal ring sewn into the hood, under the front of the jaw. A taut rope ran from this to a heavy gauge metal eyelet drilled into the exact center of the closet baseboard, keeping my encased head pulled perfectly forward but not severe enough to labor breathing. I was actually placed under a small shelf, about twelve inches high, running the full length of the closet. Very coffin- like. The upper half was a normal closet for Kim, her shoes being kept on this shelf above me. This set- up was a psychological ploy to keep me " under her . " Even with the hood, I could sense her getting things from the closet above, I tried to struggle and mmmph through the gag , she became aroused in ignoring me. 

To further frustrate me, she got two more black leather straps: a three inch wide and a tiny one quarter incher. The three inch wide strap wound around my torso, just below the elbows, pulling the single glove into my back so I could not try to scratch at the shelf above me when she was in the closet. The quarter incher wound and buckled around both of my ballet slippers, not letting me even wiggle my feet to try to get the mistress�s attention when she was getting an item out. If Kim was even further displeased, weights were added to my nipple clamps. But the most evil torment she could inflict, which was an erotic favorite for her but a nightmare for me, was to replace the hard silicone penis insert in the hood with the pump gag. Suspended under the shelf like a puppet, she controlled my air supply. Pumping filled up a rubber bladder in my mouth, filling it completely, forcing me to breathe through the nose, still difficult with the pressure of the roof of the mouth pushing up into the nasal cavity, or if Kim is pinching my nose shut, or if Kim has inserted silicone plugs up both or one nostril. 

Such full pump ups were horrifying and she understood the danger factor and used that technique sparingly. But she would still do it �cause she really got off on it. Mostly it was three- quarter, one- half or less pumps to make me uncomfortable. She would sometimes video-tape a "pumpie," as she called it. Tying me to a chair in front of the vcr, the playbacks were uneasy but riveting to watch. She was nude, with a vibrator or her own hand, working that black round pump with the other hand, sitting or laying on the bare tile floor. A digital clock was nearby for timing if she so desired. It was amazing to see me confined in such a tight space under that shelf, jerking in spasms, stretching, as Kim pumped. She must have did a real quick full pump as my body actually slightly arched, against all the ropes and straps, for a millisecond there is a space between the single glove and my back, the three inch strap below my elbow actually stretched. My head is slightly tilted up and back, the jaw ring rope super taut. She freezes for a second, not believing what she saw, then she drops her pink dildo and does a quick de-compress on the hand bulb. 

Even though Kim had me tied well to the chair while I watched this replay with her, I involuntarily flinched. Amused, she got up , out of my vision. Suddenly, the black leather hood was in front of my face, the rubber latex tube / hand bulb dangling from the mouth connection, her arm vicelike around my throat from behind, whispering in my ear, " you seem to be a little edgy, maybe a nice "pumpie" will calm you. " I tried to struggle in the chair, tears filling my eyes. " Yes, maybe a few nice long "pumpies," she hissed, " while you are mummified in latex wrap so you will not hurt yourself. " I tried to shake my head no but Kim began to work the hood over my head. It was like nite and day. Nina: mature, tall, meticulous in her planning, liked variety, very physical, wanting to use many areas of her lovely residence. Kim: very young, short, quick to do it, sameness, did not really use her strength, had no choice but to make do within the small confines of the cell. I was lying on her bed, sheathed totally from head to toe in thin, white medical latex. My hands were crossed my chest, ankles together, the classic mummy position. Only my neck was exposed and Kim was working on that. She was sitting on my chest, totally nude, straddling me, wrapping my neck with a strip of white latex. The evil hood/ pump gag was on my head, needing to be drawstringed and padlocked. " Aren�t you happy I had this nice soft roll of latex ? " I wanted to tell her to please stop but the bladder in my mouth was about three quarters inflated. No doubt she had that erotic , glazed smile. 
 

continues in part two


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