Chapter 27: The Dawning of a New Era
Saskia watched as the car advanced slowly up the driveway; the sound of gravel crackling beneath tyres disturbing the stillness of the evening. The outlook from the small office window gave an excellent view of the approach to Shackleton Grange’s main entrance, and she was able to observe the dark green Toyota coming to a halt beside the derelict fountain, before the doors on both sides opened simultaneously and the pair of occupants emerged into the failing light. A minute or so ago, the buzz of the intercom had been followed by a disembodied female voice informing her that Megan and Alison had arrived for tonight’s class, and now Saskia was able to put faces to the names, as the duo slammed the car doors shut and began to walk slowly towards the house.
Both had long flowing hair - one blonde, the other brunette - and both looked to be in their mid twenties. But it was their choice of clothing that stood out and would, if any member of the public had been on hand to view this strange spectacle, have betrayed the fact that these two females weren’t simply out for a drink at the local pub. For they were both wearing one-piece leather outfits that fit snugly to every inch of their figures, and left very little to the imagination. Climbing the three steps that led up to the porch, Saskia now lost sight of the two arrivals, although the clacking of high-heeled boots on ancient stone seemed to echo around the old building and remain in the air for several seconds after their disappearance from view.
From somewhere within the house a bell sounded, and Saskia watched through the open office door as Sapphire – now, along with Electra, released from her subterranean prison and acting on the orders she’d been given - marched purposefully in her freshly acquired silver latex cat-suit towards the ringing sound. A second or two later, the telltale creaking of the heavy door signalled the entrance of the first of tonight’s pupils into the house. Saskia was on the point of leaving her control room to welcome the arrivals to the BATH Society’s first event under its new management regime, but before she had taken more than two steps towards the door, the intercom buzzer once more erupted into life. Torn between greeting her guests and answering the two-way communication device, Saskia chose the latter, satisfied that Sapphire had understood her earlier instruction to convey tonight’s novices into the hall where the class was to take place, and certain that Cathy was on hand to do the ‘seating and greeting’ in her absence.
Returning to the desk, Saskia pressed a button on the machine and spoke into the microphone. After the opening pleasantries, Saskia received the information that the person now waiting at the gates was named Olivia, and that she too was here for the same purpose as the recently arrived duo. Operating the mechanism that opened the gates, tonight’s host directed the newcomer to make her way up to the house.
Unlike the first arrivals, it transpired that Olivia had made her way to Shackleton Grange on foot. Or maybe she’d been dropped off by someone at the gates. Whatever the case, it took a couple of minutes for the latest recruit to appear in Saskia’s line of vision, as she took the left hand spiralling path around the fountain, with its bondage-inspired statues welcoming her in stony silence. Despite the warmth of a spring evening, Olivia wore a black leather overcoat which covered her from neck to knees, but her lower legs were clearly attired in skin-tight latex, and Saskia guessed that the coat was there to hide – from prying eyes and passers-by as she made her way here through the villages and country lanes - the fact that the rest of her slim frame was also thus attired.
Saskia marvelled at the realisation that all these women were turning up here willingly, either wanting to tie or be tied. And to think that until very recently she had no idea that such practices even existed, at least not on an organised level such as the set-up that Dolores had here. But what was arousing her more than anything, was the thought of watching these women tie and gag each other up tightly, and - even more exciting - actually taking an active part in the binding process herself.
The intercom buzzer once more interrupted her daydream. Glancing at the clock on the office wall, Saskia noticed that it was now nearly ten to seven. With paying customers turning up with increasingly regularity, everybody would soon be accounted for and the class could then get underway. As she leant forward to press the button that would allow her to speak to this latest arrival, Saskia noticed that her hand was trembling; not from fear, as had so often been the case since her arrival at Shackleton Grange, but with anticipation.
****
Bethany had been sitting in quiet contemplation for the past half hour or so. Her position by the window of the room in which the class was to be held gave her a magnificent view of the grounds of the manor house, with the wooded area beyond. A murmuration of starlings briefly filled the gradually darkening sky with their synchronised acrobatic display, and from somewhere in the spinney, a nightingale began its crepuscular serenade. Aside from this avian activity, and the gentle ticking of the clock, the house seemed at peace.
The opening of the door to the room shattered this sense of serenity, however, and Bethany turned around awkwardly in her seat towards the source of this commotion. The scene she witnessed consisted of a group of four women, two of whom were familiar. Cathy led the way, dressed, as always, in her black spandex cat-suit, followed by two women who were unknown to her. Bringing up the rear, as if guarding against any escape plans that the strangers might be contemplating, was the hooded and subservient Sapphire. Ushering the newly arrived pair over to the window, Cathy made the introductions.
“Bethany, I’d like you to meet the first of our guests tonight, Alison and Megan.”
She turned to the duo of identically dressed, leather suited females.
“This is Bethany, who will be helping out with some of the practical demonstrations we have planned for this evening.”
With difficulty, Bethany rose from her chair, as the blonde member of the pair – whether this was Megan or Alison wasn’t entirely clear – stretched out her leather gloved hand. Bethany found herself hit by a wave of emotion that encompassed both embarrassment and pleasure, as she twisted her torso to one side in order to show the visitor the reason she was unable to shake hands at that particular moment. The sight of the handcuffs served to fascinate the two women, and acted as an ice-breaker, as both moved forward to question her on this state of obviously willing captivity, and it occurred to Bethany that they - as she herself had been only a week ago - were new to this kind of event, and were greatly pleased to meet others who shared their obsession with all things bondage. So mesmerised were they with their discovery of a fellow bondage aficionado, that neither seemed to hear Cathy’s parting words as she and Sapphire headed back towards the door.
“Right, I’ll leave you in Bethany’s capable hands for a few minutes until the other students arrive.”
****
Before too long the full complement of seven novices had found their way through Shackleton Grange’s electronically controlled gates, and had been ushered into the designated room in which the action was to take place tonight. After the assemblage had been allowed to mingle and get acquainted for a few minutes, Saskia and Cathy made their entrance. Behind them, the three servants followed, dressed in their colour coded latex cat-suits which hugged their lithe figures. Adorning their heads were the customary hoods, which blocked out their features save for the nostrils, eyes and the fountain of hair that sprouted from the top. Cathy and Saskia, by contrast, wore no facial or head coverings, and their cat-suits were of black, shimmering spandex which also highlighted every curve of their slim frames. Taking a deep breath, and trying to hide her nervousness – or was it enthusiasm? - Saskia addressed the now hushed congregation.
“Good evening ladies, my name’s Saskia and I’d like to welcome you all to Bondage Class. I don’t know how many of you have been here before, but if you have I’m sure you’ll be wondering where your usual hostess, Mistress Dolores, is tonight. Well unfortunately the Mistress is indisposed just at this moment, so tonight’s session will be led by me and my two colleagues Bethany...”
She gestured with her hand towards the manacled woman, in identical garb to her two fellow hosts, who now sat in the midst of her new found admirers.
...and Cathy. Don’t worry though, Dolores will be putting in an appearance later, I can assure you of that.”
****
With more than a little trepidation, in case the standard of instruction should prove to be unsatisfactory to the clearly bondage-hungry group of women who had paid good money to come here today, Saskia opened proceedings by demonstrating a few simple tying techniques on the three compliant and docile servants, who simply sat and allowed her to apply ropes to their wrists and legs without hindrance. As she got into her stride, however, a fervent passion for the task in hand began to kick in, and after a few minutes she suddenly realised that her audience were watching intently, taking in everything she showed them and hanging on her every word.
And with this revelation, Saskia’s confidence received a massive boost, and she found herself playing the role of Bondage Mistress as if she’d been doing it for years. Soon, once Crystal, Sapphire and Electra were well and truly incapacitated, the seven apprentices were given the opportunity to practice what they’d just learnt. With the willingly volunteering Bethany making up the numbers, the girls split into pairs and began exploring their bondage desires to the full.
The next hour and a half seemed to fly by, with everyone present getting more and more engrossed in their labour-of-love, until finally all the submissive halves of the pairings seemed to have had their appetite for being inescapably bound well and truly sated, with the dominants attaining equally satisfactory fulfilment from their chosen role in the process.
Saskia, who had been watching from the sidelines with an ever increasing sense of pride, turned to Cathy.
“I think it’s about time for the night’s main event. Help me untie the servants and we’ll get Dolores ready for her unveiling. I’m sure, given the attentiveness and enthusiasm that the girls are exhibiting, that they’ll really enjoy seeing a demonstration of just how restrictive multi-layered, totally immobilising bondage can be.”
A broad smile illuminated Saskia’s face, and she realised that she was becoming extremely excited at the thought of the upcoming presentation.
****
With the three mute and obedient servants released from their bindings, Saskia dispatched them to go to the storeroom and pick up what she cryptically referred to as “tonight’s star exhibit”. Without hesitation or show of emotion, the trio hurried in single file towards the door. They were gone no more than a minute, however, during which time a general murmuring of anticipation gradually set in amongst the waiting group, whose curiosity had been whetted by Saskia’s remarks. When the black, silver and pink suited figures returned, they were struggling under the weight of a large wooden trunk, with strapping buckled securely across the top to prevent the lid from opening. Two large padlocks had also been fitted for the same purpose. Setting their load down in the centre of the room, the three bearers stepped back and stood against the wall, gazing vacantly into space with the hands behind their backs, leaving the stage clear for Saskia to once more take control.
“So ladies, as I mentioned earlier Dolores wasn’t in a position to take charge of the class tonight, but she was still keen to make some kind of contribution to the proceedings. What you’re about to witness is a display of how several layers of expertly applied bondage can be far more effective, not to mention more aesthetically pleasing, than one. And for this demonstration, Dolores has generously agreed to act as the guinea pig, to allow you to not only witness the procedure of putting someone into a completely escape-proof cocoon using a variety of different materials and bondage equipment, but also to show how comfortable and relaxing this state of total incapacitation can be.”
As she spoke, Cathy had been unlocking the padlocks and was beginning to remove the stout straps that sealed the sturdy container. With these obstructions discarded, Saskia moved to one end of the box, whilst Cathy positioned herself at the other. With a sense of the dramatic, Saskia built up the suspense with a slow countdown.
“Ready Cathy? Three...two...one...OPEN!”
Pulling back the lid in tandem, the pair wasted no time in swiftly tipping the now open trunk forwards. As they did so, a strange sight was presented to the group, as the contents of the box flopped limply onto the floor. A loud gasp of surprise seemed to well up in unison from all the unsuspecting females, as they laid eyes on the Mistress of Shackleton Grange for the first time. But if they’d formed any mental image in their heads of what a dominatrix was supposed to look like, the vision that greeted them now was unlikely to have been the one they had in mind. For there, lying immobile on the carpet, was a semi-naked woman who seemed to be either asleep or unconscious; the only sign that she was actually alive being a slight grunt of anguish as she initially hit the floor.
Closer inspection revealed that the woman’s only item of clothing consisted of a pair of black tights that adorned her long, slim legs. From the waist up, her milk-white skin was open to the elements. Her long wavy hair hung in a tangled mass across her face, but even through this unkempt mess, it was clear that her mouth and cheeks were hidden from view behind a wall of grey adhesive tape that had been wound around the lower part of her head several times.
And this wasn’t the only part of her anatomy that had been subjected to the application of this strongly bonding medium, for along the length of her black-clad legs, at four strategic points between ankles and thighs, bands of the battleship grey binding agent had been stringently wrapped to ensure her lower limbs remained bonded together side by side. And the hoops of tightly wound restraints hadn’t been confined only to her solitary item of clothing , for around her waist, as well as both just below and just above her breasts, more encircling strips of the unbreakable tape had been applied directly onto her skin and pressed down to ensure that removal by the wearer was not an option.
At first, Dolores lay on her back with arms hidden beneath her, showing no inclination to move, as if in some kind of trance. But as the transfixed spectators – some of them still in varying states of bondage – stood up and moved in to get a better view, Saskia stepped forwards and rolled the demonstration model over onto her stomach, to reveal that, not only did the tape around her upper torso incorporate her arms within its confines, but that her hands were held closely together, palm to palm, due to the fact that her wrists had also succumbed to the grey encircling tape that held her in check. For what must have been at least two minutes, none of the astonished throng spoke, clearly awe-struck by what they were witnessing. So it was left to Saskia to break the spell.
“Now you’re probably thinking, ladies, that Dolores is already bound to such a degree that she could never escape, and you’re probably right. But why take that risk? Why not make doubly, triply, or quadruply sure that she’s securely and inescapably trapped by adding a few further ligatures and fetters, just to be on the safe side? And that’s exactly what we’re going to do now.”
Manoeuvring their model back to her original position, Cathy knelt down and swept Dolores’ dishevelled locks away from her face. A slight moan, only audible to anyone in the immediate vicinity, found its way passed the layer of gagging tape, and if the onlookers had been attentive, they would probably have noticed the fact that the star exhibit’s eyes were glazed over and heavily lidded, as if under the influence of some drug or other mentally debilitating substance. But none of those present seemed too concerned with examining those dull, unresponsive eyes right now; more interested, it appeared, in the bonds that she wore on her limbs and body, and waiting with bated breath for more to be added. And, of course, Saskia and Cathy were only too happy to oblige.
From the bottom of the trunk, Saskia produced several pairs of tights; all of forty denier weave and flesh coloured. A look of bemusement came over many of the watchers at this point, the unasked question being why, when the model’s legs were already hosiery clad, were these additional pairs necessary? It was Bethany who now took up the commentary and enlightened the group, while her two cohorts got on with the task of making their victim as secure as possible. Still handcuffed, and now with the added burden of roped and secured legs, she sat amongst the rest of the audience and explained how Dolores was going to be encased in a second skin of fine silky mesh from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
As her aural clarification of events echoed around the high ceilinged room, the visual experience on offer showed Cathy lifting Dolores’ legs away from the floor, whilst Saskia slipped her already taped feet into one leg of the tights. Once this initial insertion had been achieved, Cathy hoisted the less than fully compos mentis woman to her feet, so that Saskia could work the sleek nylon hose up her legs, over her thighs and hips, to finally finish at her waist. For now, the second leg of this pair of tights simply hung loosely down the back of Dolores’ now encased legs. But if any of the watching crowd were perplexed as to why it should be left dangling in this manner, Bethany was quick to inform her listeners that this was not an oversight, and that the loose end would be tied up neatly in the near future.
The next stage in the performance followed a similar formula, only this time one leg of the next pair of tights was slipped over Dolores’ hands before being pulled up her arms and the waistband stretched over her shoulders. That was the easy part. The next phase of the operation involved stretching the mesh of the second leg to its limits and pulling the thin fabric over Dolores’ head. It was touch and go whether there was enough elasticity in the pliable fabric to achieve this aim, but with much straining and cajoling by Saskia, the former Mistress’ hair and facial features finally slid beneath the breathable covering, obscuring the once clearly visible details behind a slightly fuzzy, blurred screen, whilst flattening down her nose and eyelids. Pulling the leg down further, so that the now grotesque looking woman’s head slid ever deeper towards the toe end of the tights, both Saskia and Cathy worked as one to stretch the fabric down over her shoulders, then onwards past her breasts, until the mesh was at the limits of its endurance around her midriff.
With this second pair of tights now in position, the bemused and befuddled Dolores was forced – with Cathy holding her at the shoulder to avoid a nasty fall - to complete a 360 degree twirl around on her bound feet, so that the audience could take in the now encased woman from every angle. But if anyone thought that this was the final act involving the use of hosiery as bondage material, they were soon proved wrong, even though a gap of only a few inches of exposed flesh now existed between her breasts and waist.
The third and final pair of tights were much easier to encase Dolores in than the previous two had been, because one leg of this pair was simply pulled down over her already smothered head, then dragged down her body to meet the first pair at the waist. With this latest affront to her liberty also encompassing her already sheathed arms, of course, this meant that they were now doubly trapped, with the second layer lashing them to her back from shoulders to hands. And just to compound her misfortunes, the spare ‘tails’ from the first and third pairs of tights were now put to good use, as these were wound around the hapless woman’s body as tightly as they would stretch, before being tied off around her already cocooned wrists. As Dolores was once more encouraged to hop around in a circle for the viewers’ pleasure, a ripple of applause from the admiring women broke out spontaneously. But if they were under the impression that the completion of the tights encasement signalled an end to the bondage process as a whole, they were way off the mark with this assumption. In fact, this was only the beginning.
Picking up a reel of duct tape each, Saskia and Cathy began to add a second layer of the industrial strength adhesive to the now slightly obscured figure that stood in statuesque silence, mentally unaware of exactly what was going on around her, and powerless to have done anything about her worsening situation anyway. With Saskia starting at her feet, and Cathy at the neck, the duo worked quickly and efficiently to wrap the strongly bonding sealant over the exact same parts of their prey’s anatomy as those original strips just visible beneath the tights. Once finished, the subject of their handiwork gave the appearance of a flesh coloured sausage, with bands of grey at regular intervals all down her body from shoulders to ankles. It was clear that nobody, least of all one whose brain was still numb from her enforced intake of sedatives, could escape from this level of bondage.
But even so, Cathy and Saskia had no intention of letting Dolores off that lightly. And so, as their attentive audience looked on, they once more got to work, as the next chapter in what was turning into an epic bondage extravaganza began to unfold.
****
With Cathy standing by, should Dolores wobble on her closely bound feet and start to fall, Saskia crossed to a small table that stood close to the door, on which a suitcase, hitherto unnoticed or at least uncommented upon by the assembled guests, was situated. Pulling the lid upwards, all eyes were fixed upon her as she withdrew what looked like a large, catering-sized reel of strong, transparent cling-film. Bringing this back to the stage where tonight’s strange drama was being enacted, without delay she began to wind this tightly around Dolores’ already tights encased and doubly taped legs. The purpose of her actions needed no explanation from any of the three conspirators, as the thin, clinging, see-through plastic film was wrapped three or four times around the helpless woman’s calves, before the encircling process gradually worked its way upwards over her knees, around her thigh, and ever onwards over her buttocks, pelvis, midriff and breasts, before finally reaching her shoulders. Up to now, the wrapping had been on the horizontal plane, but once the neck area was reached, it took on a diagonal slant; crossing from the deposed Mistress’ left shoulder down to her right hip, then around her back to once more rise up over her breasts to her right shoulder. Several times this pattern continued, until the film was all used up, at which point Dolores had been immersed under several layers of this insulating wrap from ankles to throat.
And it was at this juncture also, just as Saskia was discarding the inner cardboard tube around which the film had been packed, that Dolores let out a strange mumbling sound; a mixture of surprise, fear and incomprehension all mingling together in a short burst of incoherence, that signalled to Saskia, Cathy and Bethany that their captive was starting to come out of her unnatural slumber, but which, to the rest of those present, simply suggested play-acting on the part of a willing participant. Which was precisely what they had been led to believe she was. Cathy and Saskia exchanged glances, both realising that soon Dolores would be coming round, and that they needed to get the process that they’d started complete before anyone suspected the true reality of the situation.
Once more delving into the suitcase, which had been pre-packed with much of the equipment that they were going to need tonight, Cathy withdrew the next item that Dolores would soon be modelling. Not only was the black spandex sheath both durable and pliable, but it fit Dolores’ mummified form like a tightly constricting glove, which clung to every inch of her now totally encased form. With two layers of tights already covering her head, the former tyrant’s sight had already been blurred by the mesh, but now, as Saskia and Cathy eased the latest casing up to her face, everything must have suddenly gone dark for the confused recipient of this latest layer of bondage, as the spandex glided smoothly over her cranium to entirely obscure her from the many watching eyes. Another low groan, this one slightly louder and more prolonged, issued from the head end of this black, human-shaped package, which now lay prone on the floor of the classroom.
But even though there was no chance whatsoever of the enveloped woman in her wrapped up seclusion breaking free, still the act of making certain that Dolores remained as secure as possible continued unabated. The next fetters to be utilised were five broad leather belts, which Saskia had discovered earlier in Dolores’ wardrobe. With the first being wound twice around the Mistress’ spandex-sheathed ankles, before being buckled tightly and securely, the others soon followed in similar fashion; strategically arranged around her knees, thighs, waist and chest with strict attention to tautness, so that no slack remained and the chances of even minor slippage were zero.
A slight movement - whether voluntary or otherwise couldn’t easily be established – rippled along the length of the until now motionless figure enwrapped in her own private world of bondage. Cathy looked across at Saskia nervously; the effects of the drugs were definitely beginning to wear off, and she feared that in a short while Dolores would have enough of her wits about her to start creating a major disturbance that it would be impossible to pass off as role-play to the innocently watching classmates. Saskia seemed to sense this too, but the desire to complete what they’d started still burnt brightly in her. They’d have to work fast though.
Tipping the remaining contents of the suitcase onto the floor, the onlookers witnessed a long, narrow canvas sack, together with a plethora of ropes and chains, cascade onto the carpet. Quickly stretching the sack out to its full length, Cathy and Saskia placed Dolores’ feet into this second sheath and hurriedly worked it up to her neck. Unlike the spandex sleep-sack already employed, this newly acquired addition to Dolores’ misery wasn’t long enough to reach beyond her throat. But what it did possess was a draw-string around the open end, which when pulled would tighten, to avoid the contents – whatever they might be – from spilling out. And if this worked to keep inanimate objects within its interior, then it also proved effective on a human consignment, as once the strings had been pulled and tied – close to Dolores’ spandex-covered windpipe, but not so tightly that strangulation could occur – it was clear that no amount of wriggling of the captive’s shoulders would ever result in a successful exit.
Saskia looked up at the enthralled faces all around her.
“We’re almost done here, but it would be a shame if these last few bonds weren’t put to good use. So what I’d like you all to do, or at least those of you who still have the use of your hands, is to put into practice the skills you’ve been taught tonight, and help me and Cathy finish the job off.”
It seemed that the four members of the group who weren’t themselves tied needed no further encouragement, as they swiftly stood up and grabbed the available ligatures. Saskia stepped back now, watching with satisfaction as the women encircled their test subject in ropes and chains, securing the former with unyielding knots and the latter with padlocks. They giggled and laughed as they worked, clearly relishing the task in hand, and unaware that the woman who languished somewhere beneath their handiwork was not there of her own freewill.
****
For someone who had never tied anyone up before, in fact had never even considered doingsuch a thing until today, Saskia felt proud of the finished work of art that lay at her feet. But what were they to do now? A slight bucking, thrusting movement indicated that the cocooned woman had lifted her hips clear of the ground and was exploring her newly acquired environment, or more specifically, how to get out of it. Thinking on her feet, Saskia had a brainwave. Bending down to the prone figure, she spoke loudly to the head end of the human parcel.
“Okay Dolores, we’ve finished now. How do you fancy showing your audience just how inescapably trapped you are. And while you’re at it, you might as well give them some indication of how effective that gag is. Go on, give it your best shot.”
She placed her hand on Dolores’ shoulder and shook her gently, as if to encourage the mayhem that she knew would soon ensue. Then another idea suddenly hit her.
“Or would you prefer that we put you back in the trunk and left you to your own devices?”
Fortuitously, as these words were uttered, a strange sound issued from the general vicinity of Dolores’ mouth. Whether this was a response to Saskia’s question, a general objection to the treatment she was being forced to endure, a plea for leniency, or simply a random sound from a woman slowly emerging from a drug-induced stupor, was unknowable. But this mattered not one iota to Saskia, who used the ambiguity of the noise to her own ends. She looked up at the closely scrutinising faces that surrounded her.
“That’s Dolores’ signal that she wants to be left alone now. As far as she’s concerned the shows over, and all she wants is to be allowed to enjoy her bondage in peace. We’ll just put her back in the box and I’ll get the servants to take her back to her room, so that she can luxuriate to her heart’s content in her helplessness. She’ll be quite happy to remain like that all night now. So say goodnight to her, and we’ll have her carted off to her own private heaven.”
Another wave of spontaneous applause rung around the room, as the company bade Dolores farewell, with the odd complement thrown in as to how much they had enjoyed the display, and how much they admired her ability and willingness to endure such heavy and unbreakable bondage. Saskia smiled to herself. If only they knew the truth!
All the while that the wrapping and entrapping of their former boss had been going on, the three silent servants had waited without moving a muscle, seeming not to take any interest in the bizarre proceedings that were taking place no more than a few feet away from where they stood. No sooner had they been addressed by Saskia, however, and asked to reinter their ex-leader, than they were on the case in a second, each seeming to know what was required of them without getting in the others’ way. With Electra holding the lid of the trunk up, Sapphire grabbed the feet end of the package whilst Crystal took hold of the shoulders. Within seconds, the slightly wriggling form had been deposited back into her travelling accommodation and the lid slammed down with a bang. The straps and padlocks followed in quick succession, so that in less than a minute Dolores was ready for transportation out of the limelight.
Saskia checked the clock on the mantelpiece. It was five to nine. How time flies when you’re having fun, she thought to herself. But now it was time to wrap up proceedings and send the clearly satisfied customers on their way. As the three mute attendants dutifully picked up the trunk and proceeded to make their way out of the room with their human cargo, Saskia began her closing speech.
“Well ladies, I do hope you’ve enjoyed tonight’s class, and hopefully we’ll see some, if not all of you back here again in a week’s time for the next instalment in your training. Thanks for coming and goodnight.”
As the excited throng made their way out of the room and prepared to vacate the premises, Saskia caught Cathy’s eye, and saw that she too seemed happy – and indeed relieved - with the way things had gone. And as for Bethany, it was crystal clear from the grin she’d worn on her face all night, that she’d enjoyed the whole experience of being tied up in the company of like-minded souls. It all seemed to augur well for the future.
****
The start of Dolores’ evening remained a little hazy in her memory, to say the very least. Her slumbers had been deep and dreamless ever since that disgusting liquid had been forced down her throat by those three bitches, and only now, after an indeterminate amount of time, did she finally begin to surface from this undesirable state of inertia.
Her first sensory experience, as she rose from the deep subconscious level to which she’d been banished, was of movement, as if she was being transported in some box or container. Her eyes were open, but all she encountered was a void of utter blackness. Then the feeling of motion stopped, and from somewhere, seemingly at a distance, voices could faintly be heard, although her brain was in no state to compute what was being said at that moment. All of a sudden, the darkness gave way to a blurred hazy light, and almost immediately the sensation of falling forward overcame her for a few seconds, before she once again came to rest.
She tried to move, but found her entire being weighted down by a heaviness that she’d never encountered before, and the commands from her still befuddled brain failed to elicit a response from her limbs, which anyway seemed welded together at certain points along their length. Gazing into the space before her, her blurred, dysfunctional vision encountered a sea of blobs that could possibly have been faces, but weren’t really distinct enough for her to be sure with any degree of certainty. And this visual fuzziness was soon to worsen, as some form of covering was now being slipped over her head, and the sharpness and brightness of her outlook dimmed somewhat, as her whole body felt as if it was being slipped into some form of light, material casing. Still not certain of exactly what was happening to her, the voices continued at irregular intervals, whilst her torso was continually being lifted and manoeuvred into various positions against her will, and every few seconds, whatever was gripping her arms or legs would contract still further.
Then, without warning, all went dark again, as some kind of fabric compressed against her face, followed seconds later by more constriction around her legs and torso. By now, Dolores’ wits had focused sufficiently to realise that she was bound, and that her situation was getting more severe by the minute. Still unable to summon the strength to struggle, the best she could manage were feeble attempts to lift her body upwards a fraction of an inch, or stretch her arms or legs out to tentatively test the limits of her capabilities. For the first time, she attempted to communicate to whoever was putting her through this ordeal, but two things were immediately obvious. Firstly, her mind was still not functioning at a level whereby words could be formed into coherent sentences. But secondly, and far more worryingly, was the fact that her mouth was filled to bursting point with some sort of cloth or fabric, and that all the effort she put in to eject this with her tongue and teeth came to nothing.
As Dolores’ brain slowly but surely regained some sort of hold on logic, and the feeling in her muscles and joints gradually returned, so it seemed that some outside agency was determined to ensure that she was incapable of putting these re-emerging skills into practice. As the minutes passed, more and more layers seemed to make their way around her prone form, and it became apparent to her reawakening sense of reason that her efforts to counteract these ever more debilitating restrictions were doomed to failure.
Now, a multitude of hands seemed to be lashing even more tight bonds around her already cocooned and entombed being, and the soft clink of chains reached her ears. Trying desperately to show her displeasure at this unwanted attention, Dolores’ attempts at speech still wouldn’t form into words, and the soft groaning sound that did make its way through the tightly packed gag must have been ambiguous at best. Whatever the case, no assistance was forthcoming. Or at least none that she would have considered useful in her battle to regain her freedom.
But something was definitely happening out there. A voice, closer now than before , sounded through the layers that covered her ears, and although her brain still couldn’t interpret the words that were being uttered, she received the impression that it was she that was being directly addressed, and that the gist of the sentence took the form of a question. And as if to back this assumption up, someone seemed to be shaking her by the shoulder, as if trying to get her attention. In an attempt to set up some kind of interaction with whoever was out there, Dolores tried to voice her unhappiness at her deteriorating circumstances, but all she could manage was an incomprehensibly muffled growl.
And it wasn’t long before any thought of building up a meaningful rapport with her tormentor and maybe negotiating her release, were nipped in the bud, as suddenly, Dolores felt her completely encumbered frame rising upwards, as two pairs of hands lifted her from the floor on which she’d lain for several minutes now, and for a second or two it felt as if she was floating weightlessly in the air. But this brief sojourn into space was extremely short-lived, as almost immediately she found herself being roughly deposited onto another hard surface, although the sound that her limp form made as the two collided, suggested that she was now resting on something wooden.
But this wasn’t the only noise to reach her, for a split second later, another slamming sound, this time of wood on wood, sounded from just above her head and reverberated in her ears. At the same time, the voices that her senses were just beginning to unscramble into meaningful statements, suddenly became muffled and faraway. Even with her brain still functioning well below normal capacity, it was obvious to Dolores that she had been shut inside a wooden receptacle of some description, and within seconds it was clear, from the jerking, jogging movement that bounced her helplessly from one side of her cramped prison to the other, that this container was being moved. But to where?
After no more than ten seconds, the voices that had been her only link to the outside world faded into nothingness, and the remainder of the journey was undertaken in silence, save for the frantic calls for assistance from the now awakened inmate. But whoever it was that was carrying her, they made no attempt to communicate, and after three or four minutes, her makeshift coffin - for that is what it was beginning to seem like to the stricken woman - came to rest with a loud, shuddering bump.
And then there was only silence.
Dolores used up every weapon in her limited arsenal to find some sort of release from the severe status that she had been left to deal with. But it was no use, and she realised this in a matter of only a few seconds. Hardly able to stretch her limbs, arch her back or flex a muscle, Dolores knew that she was entirely at the mercy of those who had conspired to envelope her in this unbreakable shell. All those layers, plus the stuffiness of the container’s airless interior, were conspiring to make her uncomfortably hot. And even worse, there didn’t appear to be any crotch rope available this time to help her forget her woes, even for a short period of time.
How long would they leave her here? If her captors were teaching her a lesson – which undoubtedly was their goal – then they would presumably take their cue from the length of time that she would have incarcerated them. Which meant that she was in for a very long wait; probably twelve hours or more, even at a conservative guess.
That is, if they ever bothered to come back at all!
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03.04.18