Damsel in Distress 2

Part Three

Barbara could not accurately determine how long it had been since John's latest revelation impacted her somewhat overwhelmed sensibilities. Both she and time were obviously on vacation, suspended, as it were, in a moment beyond time, beyond reason, in a reality she'd never contemplated or experienced before. 'I feel like a butterfly caught in a spider's web,' she analogized after her third and fourth writhing frenzy drove her out to the brink of yet another impossible climax. 'How long did he say?' The ticking of a clock focused her audio awareness on a far corner. 'If I could just get some friction somewhere.' Stretching her legs brought both nipples to within a quarter inch of the silk sheets below. It was to this end that Barbara Gwenn manipulated herself until her trainer went off duty.

The feel of his right hand on her left ass cheek sent a jolt of fearful expectation up and down her outraged nervous system. "Mmmuh!" 'I didn't hear him come in.' She felt the weight of his body settling in on the mattress. The gag was removed. "John?" He did not answer. "Is that you?" Still no answer; just the delicious caress she had so longed to suffer. "Please say something." Instead, he grabbed a fistful of hair, pulled her head back, and stuffed her mouth with an organic sponge. "Ahnnmm!" It was soon held in place with several turns of Elastoplast. Barbara recognized the feel of her keeper's hands as he worked the gag. 'Thank goodness.' A sigh had barely escaped her nostrils when the feel of something harsh impacted her vulnerability with the sudden knowledge only the well executed sting of a high speed switch could minister. It sunk deep into her buttocks, running parallel to the head frame, and seemed to go on for a minute or so in super slow motion indifference to how the event was bulls-eyeing Barbara's under-indulged expectations.

She waited a second stroke, expecting the worst, but it never came. A part of her wanted it to. Another part screamed, 'Are you out of your mind?' John removed the blindfold and stepped back to wait on his damsel's eyes to clear and focus. She gazed up at his nearly naked form. The bulge in his bright-white briefs sent a rush of molten blood to her groin. An autonomic signal caused her hands to flex helplessly, just an inch and a half from the point-of-impact shockwave now growing wider and wider beneath and above the soft, milky surface of her perfect little rump.
John's eyes focused on hers. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear this was your first experience with a man like me."

The wonder of the moment made Barbara's vitals twitch with torn delight. The soaked up puddle beneath seemed to validate her predicament in a way all to familiar to her trainer's practiced sensitivities. He glanced at his wristwatch before removing it and placing it on the night table to their left. Barbara had been bound for a little more than an hour, only, to her, it seemed more like two. John walked out of her field of vision, removed his briefs, climbed onto the bed, and straddled her upper legs. The erection Barbara had waited too long to feel inside her came to rest on the tops of her pinkies.

"Mmuh, mmuhuh," appreciated John's damsel as the weight of her man's upper body joined hers, and the ropes dug deeper into her arms and torso. Barbara groped for a grip on her lover's stick as he reached under the pillow to their right for what looked like the handle of a knife. Her suspicions were soon confirmed when the unmistakable click of an instantly emerging switchblade widened her eyes and sent a shiver of sexual fear racing to her frantically twitching lower parts. The ropes dug deeper into her flesh as she struggled furiously in her wantonly vacillating deliberations. She lowered her head and closed her eyes to avoid the unthinkable, only to feel the soft groping of her lover's hand on her left breast and nipple. "MMUHUH!" she screamed just before her fantasy man cut the line that held her suspended torso in check. They fell to the bed. Another hand worked the right breast for a bit before the weight of John's body lifted off his damsel's back. She continued to get as good a grip as she could on his hardness, but without success, given the angle and his teasing, inch-by-inch withdrawal.

He was quickly off the bed, undoing the knots at the bedpost of the right leg tether. Barbara felt her knee bend as the ball of her foot made contact with the right ass cheek. John then bound her ankle to its corresponding upper thigh with five turns of rope and a two-turn cinch. While he did, his damsel rested and collected her scattered thoughts. The left ankle was soon similarly bound to its thigh. Barb turned her head right, stared at the knife lying on the pillow, and wondered if she would soon regain the use of her arms. A double-edged wish overtook her as she wondered if John would take her, bound. The thought passed quickly in the realization of his now, sprawled out presence to her right. He rolled her onto her left side and filled the gap between them with his fit-n-trim physique.

Barbara was soon in his arms and left leg, hanging off the bed, feeling his erection between her legs. He reached for the night table drawer, extracted a remote, punched out the lights, and clicked on the 36 inch TV screen against the wall beyond the foot of the bed. If he'd let go of her, Barbara would have fallen to the floor. The possibility elevated her sense of the absurd to newer heights of incredulity. 'I've never been this horny in all my life. He'd better take me, or I will surely faint from frustration.'

The image on the TV screen gave Barbara another major reason to wonder what would happen next. Pamela, the girl she ran into at the front door, the one who liked to dress in tight, high skirted suits, filled the screen with an image so profoundly unimaginable it sent Barbara into a state of complete and utter, awe inspiring suspension. It was then that John decided to inject himself into the moment. The feel of his throbbing erection entering her under-satisfied crevice set off a series of writhing undulations, giving Barbara cause to let fly another medley of hit tunes from out of the newly forming song book of her kinky passion.
"Nuhuh! Mmmmmmmmuhuh! Ohnnnnnnn"!
The feel of fingers on her right nipple, and mouth on her severely arched neck, sent her into a reeling, out-of-control ecstasy, the likes of which she was sure could not have possibly invaded her sensually starved procrastinations before the evening began.

Meanwhile, in the attic, Pamela did her best to maintain a perilous balance as she dealt with her dilemma and wondered who was watching it on closed circuit TV. Thanks to the hairdo she'd chosen for the latter part of the evening's challenges, and the leather gag that covered the lower part of her handsome face, unless one was intimately familiar with Pam's built-like-a-brick-shit-house figure, there was no way to determine who she was. Tethers tied to comfortable leather cuffs, held her ankles wide apart, and arms, by the wrists, to the rafters of the 156 year old attic, creating a spread-eagled 'X' atop 7 inch, black, patent-leather heels. She was double plugged with a red-leather chastity belt, and her nipples tethered with dental floss, bringing her ample breasts a half inch closer than they would have been had the floss not been applied. A ten-ounce fishing sinker, dangling from the center of the nipple tether, rounded off the fix. The flexing of fingers, and the clicking of locking gears, echoing through the large room, made it clear to any trained observer that Pamela was being stretched in all four, extremity directions. A vibrating dildo affixed to a stick directly under her plugged and throbbing wet spot, gave her reason to spread her legs further. But, alas, the attempt was a futile one, given the wrist tether restriction, unless, of course, Chris chose to give her some slack, which he would, eventually. The more he gave her, the closer she would get to injecting the dildo into the strapped in, hollow plug in her gushing pussy. But for now, things were as they should be, and viewers had no choice but to wait with Pam as the drama of delayed gratification unfolded into the matrix of the evening's outcomes.

Barbara was beside herself with justifiable concern for what could happen to her next, which, of course, had its desired effect on John's end of things. He rolled them away from the side of the bed and sat her atop him. Impaled as Barbara was, there was nothing she could do but kneel, wait for friction, and hope her lover would not come before she did. The nipple pinching and breast massaging continued, as did our damsel's writhing body language, which she soon realized made her lover's pulsating hardness even bigger and longer inside of her. She tried not to struggle, knowing how it would affect John's severely taxed self-control, but the decision had long since gone autonomic on her end of things. The dilemma was classic. The smile on John's face said it all. His damsel was in a state of extreme sensual distress, and she could not have been more pleased with its eventual, unprecedented outcomes.

Part Four

When Barbara entered the TV room, the first revelation to catch her eye made the black-leather collar around her neck tighten somewhat. 'Thank goodness no one's here.'
"Take a seat," said John through her wireless headset.
There were several places to do so. Barbara chose the couch directly in front of the huge monitor on the wall opposite the door. It slammed behind her, as per John's instructions to guide Jackie. The strapped on, 6 inch heels, made the 18 foot trip a good deal more demanding than it would have been had Barb still been in her favorite, everyday Nike's.

'Wonder what time it is,' she thought while sitting and waiting on the next phase of her first B/D party experience. The image on monitor was Pamela, in the same configuration she'd been in since John punched her up in the bedroom, with one, notably stimulating difference. The vibrating dildo on the end of the stick directly below her crotch was now buried deep inside the hollow-rubber penis within her perennially twitching pussy. To make matters worse, given the sardonic genius of the fix, Pamela could do nothing to help things along. Her legs were stretched too far apart, and arms tethered too purposefully to the outer extremes of her dilemma. A constant stream of moans, groans and animal wails gushed from out her severely stuffed and restrained lower face, filling the quadraphonic-wired, audiovisual chamber with the kind of feedback Barbara was sure would soon reverberate throughout her own, soon-to-be, bound-and-gagged submissiveness.

'Why am I still here?' she asked herself. 'It isn't as if these guys kidnapped me, or something.' The strapless, very high cut, tight fitting leather outfit John had chosen for phase three of his new damsels' adventure clung to her like several coats of rubber paint. All she had on underneath were next-to-nothing, black panties. 'I've never been this horny, for this long, in all my life.'
"Would you like to try that on for size?" asked John through the headset.

Barbara's focus left the screen as she crossed her legs and assumed a more attentive posture. She wanted to say something smart, but the words never got to her vocal chords. Her fingers locked and found a place to settle, atop her dominant, left kneecap. She was not gagged, but the freedom to speak simply would not exercise its power.

The image on screen faded to black. The door opened, and in walked top-heavy Tanya, in the same outfit Barbara was wearing, only she was blindfolded, with arms parallel bound, at the elbows and wrists, behind her back. Jackie escorted her to a wooden, industrial strength, straight-back chair, which had been screwed down to the floor and situated between Barbara and the 55-inch monitor. Tanya's arms were guided over the back of the chair as she sat. A leather bag, filled with ropes and such, and slung over her keeper's right shoulder, was quickly emptied onto the floor.

Barbara watched as Jackie bound Pamela to the chair. The expertise with which she did so sent a reminding shiver up and down her strictly postured uneasiness. The temptation to touch herself inspired another stressful minute or three of kinky contemplation... Her interlocked fingers tightened their grips considerably...
"Speak not a word, make not a sound," said John softly.

Tanya was not gagged, but she spoke not a word, wondering if she and her unknown binder were the only partygoers in the room. Her ankles were crossed and bound; lower thighs, too. A tether ran from her wrists, under the chair, to her ankles, which were drawn directly under the seat by the no-slack length of 3/8ths inch nylon line Jackie securely knotted to the bottom-rear spar of the chair. Another line ran from a waist lasso, down between her legs, under her rump, to the wrist tether, and back again to the waist lasso. Jackie brought the soul of her right skyscraper up the right side of the chair, and started pulling on the line, and didn't stop until all its slack had been taken out. The double-edged crotch rope dug deep into Tanya's crevice, pinching the snug-fitting, leather skirt in the process. She threw her head back and opened her mouth wide while Jackie did the knots in the waist lasso.

For the next three minutes, Barbara watched Jackie weld Tanya's torso to the back of the chair with a hundred foot length of half inch thick, deeply seamed, nylon rope, making it almost impossible for Chris' top-heavy damsel to negotiate any appreciable, crotch rope friction.
John interrupted Barbara's fascination with a major press release. "We have a custom with newcomers, a traditional way of letting them know what we're up to whenever our flyers start popping up around the neighborhood."
Barbara took a long, deep, silent breath, and sat up a bit straighter. 'Lucky me.'
"Tanya betrayed a confidence," divulged the new man in her life. "Fortunately, it was leaked to one of our seasoned operatives, who played along until our little center of attraction spilled every bean she could think of. You are invited to participate in the disciplinary action our inner circle voted to execute at this session. If you would like to play along, or not, just nod or shake your head."
Barbara suddenly realized she was being visually monitored. 'Wow.'
"Take your time deciding. We have all weekend."
Jackie tied the last knot in the torso bind, gave Barbara a wide-eyed look, and left our two damsels to their choices, slamming the door as she left.

And Barbara figured, 'Something tells me that woman more than just enjoys her work.' A concentrated scan of the room revealed an obvious, one-way-mirror bubble at each ceiling corner. Knowing that John, and perhaps others were watching her moves, and possibly listening for her vocalized thoughts, made the decision at hand a bit more complex to ponder. Once again, Barbara considered the possibilities, recalling the 'consequences' precipitated by her last, out-on-a-limb choice. 'I love the way these guys think,' she realized before smiling, and nodding her head a few times.
"See the red ball gag on the floor in front of Tanya?"
Barbara nodded again. 'U-oh.'
"Stand up and walk to the back of the chair, and be very quiet about it."

Tanya had been struggling pleasurably in her bondage, doing her best to achieve as much crotch rope friction as the fix would permit. When she felt Barbara's hands on her shoulders, her stunned body language shifted into a higher gear.
"Remove the blindfold," ordered John, "and place your hands back on her shoulders."
Barbara did what she was told. 'I can't believe I'm doing this.'
...When Tanya saw that the hands on her shoulders were female, an uncomfortable second or ten ensued.
"Tanya is totally straight," informed John from the bar in the drawing room. "Fondle her shoulders as if you were about to seduce her."

The TV screen was suddenly filled with video of Tanya and Joyce, the operative who set her up for the forthcoming surveillance footage. Barbara continued to 'take advantage' of the situation as the tape played itself into the disciplinary action at hand. There was no 'live' audio accompanying the exchange. However, there was a voice-over to tweak the tension as only a practiced master can.
"You committed a cardinal sin, damsel Tanya," spoke the mellow tones of her trainer, Chris. "You deliberately, and with great detail, undermined the integrity of our security's infrastructure. As a consequence, you will now suffer a fate equal to your infraction."
A horny calm settled into Tanya's gut and body language as the 'live' audio was punched on and the details of her exchange with Joyce became blatantly evident...
"What are you going to do to me?" asked Tanya as she squirmed in her vacillating juices and tried to get some friction going between her legs.
John fed Barbara her lines through the headset.( "...don't be anyone but yourself.")
"You've caused us a great deal of inconvenience," spoke Barbara, with a renewed delight in the knowledge that neither damsel had the slightest sexual interest in the other. 'This is too much,' she smiled.
"Ball gag her," instructed John. "Pick it up, grab her hair, pull her head back, and stuff that sucker into her big, loud mouth."

Barbara did just that as a new image appeared on screen. She watched it, while securing the gag buckle at the nape of her damsel's neck. Both women watched as a totally nude woman was escorted into what looked like a dungeon, complete with sweaty, stone and mortared walls, dirt floors, hooks, chains, and such hanging from the ceiling, and rope skeins on shelves, ledges and tables everywhere. A cylindrical, gray-painted, metallic pole dominated the center of the room. The woman was taken to it. Her wrists had already been crossed and tied together in front of her.
"Speak the lines I give you to the bound woman in the playroom," instructed John.
Barbara stood next to Tanya, her arms folded under her breasts; legs spread wide apart, her face reflecting an expression of stern but tempered serenity. "Do you know why you are here?"
"...Yes, my Mistress," spoke the damsel as one of her keepers tethered her wrists to the poll, just above the height of her own head. The other lassoed her waist, with a loop in front, ran the half inch thick rope between her legs, and up under the back of the waist rope, then back down and between her legs and up to a ring in the ceiling, where it was threaded and guided back to another ring in the wall directly in front of Tanya, and slip knotted for convenient access.
Barbara was in awe of the moment, and hornier than ever. "Tell us, then, why are you here?"
While her keepers parallel bound her ankles and knees together with several turns of cinched, leather thongs, the damsel spoke her peace. "I am here, my Mistress, for betraying your confidence; for telling an outsider about what goes on here at the house." The fink's nipples had already been tethered with dental floss.
"Chilly down there, isn't it," taunted John through Barbara.
"Yes, Mistress, very."

Tanya and Barbara watched as both keepers undid the slipknot in the wall ring and hoisted damsel Dolores up onto her toes. The move pulled her away from the pole, stretching her arms in the process. The crotch line dug deep into where it would do the most good. The wall ring hoist rope was secured with hard knots, a ten ounce fishing sinker hung from the nipple tether, and, after the dungeon door was closed and locked, damsel Dolores was left to her speculating-kinky thoughts.
"Having fun?" checked John.
Barbara nodded a subtle 'yes,' and tried not to smile
"Good. Now straddle Tanya and give her a suggestive grin."

Barbara did not hesitate, passing on John's lines as she jockeyed for position in her very overwrought charge's lap. "If someone else should break security in the future, and we find out about it, they will soon find themselves tied to this chair, watching you on 'live' TV go through what damsel Dolores is now experiencing. Either that, or never return to this house, and we will assume you are not willing to accept punishment for your disobedient actions. The choice is yours... I have to pee. See you in a bit. We still have some pleasurable, unfinished business to attend to, you and I." With that, Barbara gave Tanya a look so flushed with sexual innuendo it sent her into a tailspin of negative anticipation. Barb stood, without removing her gaze from the worried one on Tanya's face, looked over at the TV screen, smiled, and very slowly left the room.
"Follow the blinking blue lights," guided John. They took Barbara to a door. "Open it, and be careful on your way down the stairs."

They led to a basement, and continued down a winding corridor to a dead end, where two, hooded keepers waited at attention, arms folded, legs spread about a foot and half apart. They both wore the same outfit Jackie had been wearing all evening. Without saying a word, one of them gave Barbara a ring of keys before leading the other back up the corridor and out of the scene.
"Still want to play," asked John, though his signal was a bit weak, thanks to the depth at which the dungeon had been built.
"You may speak to me. The corridor is also miked."
Barbara's nervousness peaked a bit. "...Uh, sure. What did you have in mind?"
"The keys are color-coded. You are about to learn a secret. Are you prepared to keep it?"
"Yes," assured Barbara as she looked down at the heavy metal ring in her hand. It held 8, large, dungeon door type keys, all with different colored, heart-shaped finger grips. She looked up at the silver studded door appointments, chiseled-metallic framework, ring door handle, and impregnable keyhole casing. 'Wow,' thought Barbara. 'Are these guys into it, or what?'
"Blue will open this door. Green opens the door the green lights lead to, and so on..." (Actually, this was the only dungeon under the house. The Trainers just wanted Barbara to think there were more.)
She did not take the key in hand, but waited for further instructions. 'Please don't tell me to open this door.'
John's tone was soft and daring. "Unlock the door, Damsel Barbara."
An important moment of truth came and went. The door was unlocked and opened. It was dark inside.
"Step in and walk slowly forward."

Before Barbara could take a fourth step, Chris and John grabbed her by the arms, lifted and carried her two more steps, waited two seconds for the lights to come on, guided and pinned her back to the ceiling-to-floor, shiny-brass pole in the center of the 14 by 14 foot room, and quickly parallel bound her arms together behind it at the upper shoulders, elbows, forearms and wrists. The zipper down the side of Barbara's dress was opened, and the sexy garment removed. She struggled fiercely, but loved every second of the experience. Within minutes, she was securely roped to the pole at the ankles, upper calves, lower and upper thighs, torso and crotch. Her waist had been purposely excluded from the wrap. The men then left the room, and locked the door.
"This is trainee Jackie." heard Barbara over the speaker system. "Any questions?"
Barbara heard herself say, "Where's Dolores?" while she did her best to catch her breath.
Jackie smirked, pressed a button on the console, and said, "California."
A tingling sensation filled every pore in Barbara's body. 'These guys are bi-coastal?' She tested her ropes for the first time and noticed. 'Wow, when I step in it, I really step in it.' A TV monitor, hanging from the ceiling, to her right, materialized a wide-angle shot of Dolores' situation in her dungeon.
"Damsel Barbara?" interrupted John. "We have some questions to ask. Are you prepared to answer, or would you like to wait another 20 minutes."
Barbara wanted to take in all of the newfound sensations her first dungeon experience had to impart. "I'll wait."
"We won't intercom you for the next 20 minutes," guaranteed John.
"OK." Ten-foured Barbara.

Meanwhile, back in the TV room, Tanya's orgasms were mercilessly impacting her fear of the future, without letup. Her bodice had been pulled down and 5-ounce sinkers dental flossed to each nipple. Every synapse, nerve ending, and heartbeat was short-circuiting in concert with every other sensual and emotional feeling she was capable of generating. John turned up the lights and punched her image up on his main screen, then piped it into Barbara's room, through the set hanging to her left. A third set hung directly above and in front of her. She wondered what would show up on it, and pondered the possibility that it might be her predicament. A scan of the room revealed several, carefully placed mirrors. There were no sweaty-stone walls, or dirt floor, which was covered with a light-tan, industrial strength, wall-to-wall carpet. The entire ceiling illuminated fluorescent. Barbara had been dancing on the edge of a belated orgasm for almost five minutes when John interrupted her train of thought. "Can we put you on center screen?"
'It's been 20 minutes, already?' thought Barbara as she shook her head 'no.'

The door swung open. Jackie walked to the pole, stuffed Barbara's mouth with sponge, held it in place with a blue ball gag, tied a 5 ounce sinker to each nipple with dental floss, and left.
"Can we now?" asked John.
Barbara looked at herself in one of the mirrors, realized she was closing in on her last minute of pre-orgasmic longing, and shook her head, 'no,' again.
Jackie was immediately back on her case with a black, short-cropped wig, which she expertly placed over Barbara's head and hair. She then left, and locked the door.
"Now?"

Barbara knew that if she nodded a yes now, her orgasm would be caught on tape. She lowered her head to think, and threw it back in a gesture of near completion. John misconstrued the body language and punched off the VCR/record/pause function switch. Barbara's exploding image appeared on center screen. Her eyes were closed during the next several minutes of sensual catharsis, so she did not witness the event on the center monitor, nor was she aware that she was being taped.
John continued the interrogation anyway. "Do you wish to be owned, toyed-with, lightly tortured, kept, trained as a Mistress, D/S? You-name-it..."
Barbara did her best to pay attention, but the effort soon proved fruitless as she manipulated the crotch rope from one climax to the next...
"The only requirement," continued John, "is that you not interact with other training groups. Got that?"
Barbara felt herself shake her head 'yes,' but couldn't remember why she had. Time, space, exterior circumstance had all disappeared into a far corner of her awareness. All she could think of was the climax in progress.
"And there are secrets to be kept: secret doors and passageways to secret places, situations and identities.... You will never be called or visited. Just show up at the house anytime between 6 PM and 3 AM, and we will do the rest."

Barbara's multiple was approaching closure. She opened her eyes and saw herself on television. The enlightenment was all she needed to put the final, finishing touches on her out-of-control eruption. It went on a good deal longer than expected. Barbara struggled furiously to get the nipple sinkers dancing in just the right way.
Meanwhile, up in the TV room, a curious hunk asked Jackie, "Who is that?"
"Be damned if I know," answered Jackie. "This is an old tape- before my time."
But the hunk had seen Barbara, earlier, at the bar, but didn't recognize her with the wig and gag on. Having never attended a B/D party before, he turned to scope the 27 other people in the room and wondered when he would see some action himself.
And Jackie thought, as she looked over at Tanya's exhausted countenance in her chair, and read the new man's mind, 'Don't worry, buster, the night is still young, and I'm off duty at midnight. If you are a sub, you're in for the time of your life. Dominant? I'm switchable. But if you can't handle or satisfy me, I will teach you a lesson in sensual distress you will not soon forget.'
The new hunk turned to look at Jackie's striking figure. Their eyes met. A sly smile covered the Mistress-in-training's face. A chill ran up and down the new man's spine. 'What I could do with her.'
And John said to Chris, in as low a tone as he could, just as the grandfather clock in the corner began to chime out the midnight hour, "Good thing Barbara showed up, or the night might have been a total bust. I like the way she handles herself. She's almost got me believing this is her first experience with bondage and discipline."
As she collapsed in her ropes, almost remembered what she was up to at school, and wondered what time it was, Barbara thought, "Good thing I didn't give them permission to tape this."

Continued in Part Five

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story continues in Damsel in Distress 3

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