Message-ID: <16167eli$9810080546@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "evault" Subject: The Erotica Vault Story Post: Binding Agreement, The adventures of Bonda Otytely. (F f, ltx/rub, encase, bd, cst) Post 2 of 4 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.bondage,alt.sex.stories.d,alt.sex.stories.moderated Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Ultra-Time: 8 Oct 1998 08:30:07 GMT Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <01bdf293$678c3c80$fb4006d1@workhorse> ********************************************************** * Posted from the Erotica Vault * * New PERMANENT Web Address * * http://www.eccentrica.org/evault * * Email evault@mailcity.com * * Binding Agreement Part * * The Adventures Of Bonda Otytely * * Posting 2 of 4 * * The Best FREE Erotic Story Archive * * on the net :) * * * ********************************************************** BINDING AGREEMENT, Part IV By the time Bonda finally came down to earth again, literally, she was one giant spasm, unable to itch, bitch or think straight. She wanted to be free -- not forever, just long enough to regain the sensations of touch and movement. When she came down, she went nowhere but sideways. Her bell balloon bondage was tilted on end, and then she heard Tyrenna's voice through her earpieces: "Time to let the good times roll, dear," Tyrenna giggled. Bonda felt her caged and coccooned self rolled through the hallways and (bounce, bounce, bounce) down the steps of Mistress Sally's little slave hut. By the time she rolled to a stop, her head was spinning faster than a cotton candy machine. Her rolly- polly ride had pounded her breasts and buttocks, and jostled her crotch enough to remind her that Invaders 1 and 2 were still take up space in her spaces. Her bell was flipped roughly upright, and she felt the balloon slowly decompress. She felt the feeling return to places where she'd lost it, even though she was still mummified in her latex and metal. The feeling reminded her of the rush when she used to unlace her wicked leather corset, which cinched her down to an 18'' waist. Except this relief went from head to toe. Tyrenna cut away her latex prison with quick snips of her scissors, and the latex literally sucked away from her body as Tyrenna peeled it from her. Bonda suddenly shivered. It felt cold around her. Then Tyrenna sprayed her caged form with a heavy, warm mist of water. It felt so good. One by one, Tyrenna dialed the combination locks and they popped open. But it was at least 20 minutes later before she was on to Bonda's hooded head, her buckled bindings, her fettered feet. Finally, she was free of all devices except those three nasty inflatables. "Leave the gag in for now," said Tyrenna. "But you can take everything else out." Bonda did. Tyrenna snapped a leather and rubber collar on Bonda's neck. The collar was attached to a chain, which in turn was attached to an overhead track that ran vertically across the room. Tyrenna ordered Bonda to submerge herself in a huge, neck-deep bubble bath built into the floor of the room. "Enjoy yourself while you can," Tyrenna said. "We only allow an hour off between punishments. There is a toilet over there, and a dressing table with perfumes and other toiletries next to it. I'm going to fetch you some food." By the time Tyrenna returned, Bonda was in front of a dressing table, primping herself. Bonda's gag was removed and she was instructed to sit down and dine. Throughout the bath, and during the meal, Bonda had found herself rubbing her body, getting the sensations back to normal. Her puss and her breasts were particularly sensitive. Her sweaty red skin tone had almost returned to its normal pinkish hue. She felt terrific, she thought. Her whole body felt alive. She felt like she'd just awaken from an erotic night full of lovemaking, with a glow all over her. She was satified in every way but one. And why not? She was clean, freshly relieved, and filled with good food, a gourmet breakfast, no less. What was next? Mistress Sally's earlier words echoed in her head: "We have a wonderful day of self-punishment lined up for you...." Her flashback was interrupted by Tyrenna clearing her throat. "Free time's up," she said. "It's SGTT -- Slave Girl Torture Time." Bonda moaned as Tyrenna released her from the overhead chain and attached a long leather leash to her collar. "Follow me, dear," she ordered, and the two walked back up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. They entered the last room on the left. Bonda was led over to a dressing table and ordered the remain standing as Tyrenna dressed her in long, white latex stockings, 8'' red leather ballet boots, a matching red helmet with eye, nose and mouth openings, and matching red gloves. She was then wrapped and laced into white heavy-latex sheath dress that allowed her only inches of space to wiggle-walk her way around. Her collar was detached and replaced by a 5'' posture collar sewn into the dress, with O-rings that buckled to her red helmet on either side and at the back. The back buckle forced her head back to the point that she found herself staring at the ceiling. Bonda considered her position: her arms were still free, she should still see, and she could breath freely. Was this their best bondage? No. As Bonda stood there teetering, Tyrenna wheeled over an 7-foot-high, 4-foot square plexiglas box on wheels, all framed in heavy-duty metal. Rods, rings, chains, clamps, pulleys and sex toys ringed the sides and hung from the ceiling. On the plexiglas door were the letters: PERPETUAL PUNISHMENT MACHINE. Tyrenna opened the door and ushered Bonda inside. Bonda tippy-toed her way to the middle of the box, where Tyrenna secured her by her helmet to a pully overhead. Tyrenna pulled adjustable L-shaped bars down from the ceiling, almost parallel to Bonda's shoulders, but slightly higher. Bonda was strapped into the bars at the shoulders, above the elbows, below the elbows, and at the wrists. She could swing her arms slightly forward and back, but not from side to side. Next Tyrenna strapped a black leather strap across her mouth, forcing two hard-rubber blocks into her mouth. After the leather was strapped behind Bonda's head, Tyrenna turned a crank and the two rubber blocks started to part. Bonda's mouth slowly opened wider and wider until she felt her mouth could be extended no more. She droooled helpessly. Then Tyrenna fit a brank over the bottom rubber block. A rubber shaft was mounted at the far end of the brank, and Bonda could see that a groove down the center of the brank could guide the shaft directly into her mouth. A system of pistons was attached to the underside of the brank, and as Tyrenna pulled up and down on the bottom piston, the rubber shaft slid into Bonda's mouth, across her tongue, and back out. "That should keep your mouth occupied," Tyrenna said. Bonda flinched. Tyrenna hummed to herself as she fit a metal girdle around Bonda's middle. It also had a series of pistons and pulleys, and somehow (Bonda could not lower her head to see), one piston on her girdle was attached to the bottom piston of the brank. "Spread your legs," Tyrenna ordered. Bonda moaned. Her rubber sheath dress had little give, but on her tippy-toes, she was able to extend her ankles about four inches apart. She felt an adjustable spreader bar being attached to either ankle, and then Tyrenna cranked her ankles apart even further, to maybe a 6" gap. Bonda screwed short extension poles into the spreader bar; two in front, two in back, all with O-rings attached. She then attached stiff aluminum poles from the O-rings in front to O-rings at her tethered wrists. Identical poles ran from the back poles at her ankles to her elbows. Poles secured from her elbows to her sides prevented her from twisting too far to one side or the other. Bonda wasn't sure yet what all this accomplished. "You are becoming a mechanical doll," Tyrenna said. "These parts will all interconnect and, like a Rube Goldberg device, create an on-going, self-driven series of actions-and-reactions, all designed for your personal discomfort." Bonda's dress had black rubber pop-off plugs at the most convenient locations: her butt, her crotch, and her nipples. One by one, Tyrenna unplugged the holes. She attached a series of pulleys and poles to the metal girdle. Two poles angled out in front of Bonda's breasts, about six inches away from her body. Bonda winced as a huge nipple clamp was attached to each breast. Each clamp was attached by a wire that ran inside the rods and back to the girdle and its interconnected pulleys and pistons. Behind her, Bonda felt Tyrenna screw a rubber shaft onto the end of a piece of tubing. Tyrenna attached the shaft to the end of a U-shaped series of tubes than ran from the metal girdle and went out, down, and back up, between Bonda's cheeks. The shaft found her dark cavity and burrowed all the way up. The same process was repeated in front: out, down, and up, up, up. Then came a metal box the screwed into the back of the metal girdle. It, too, had four separate piston-pole extensions that went out and down to four spring-loaded table-tennis paddles: two aimed at her left cheek, and two at her right. Other poles ran from the box to her elbows and heels. Finally, Tyrenna came around front and attached a very long pole from Bonda's posture collar the the spreader bar. But the pole, secured to the middle of the spreader bar, was a little too short: Bonda could touch the floor with the left toe of her ballet boots, or the right toe, but not both. "Let me explain what's about to happen," Tyrenna said. "The wheels on the outside of your plexiglas prison are set to force you to walk in a large, continuing circle around this room. Every time you take a step, the pistons and poles will push and pull and take on a life of their own. They will pull and release your nipples. They will push each shaft in and out. They will trigger and re-set the paddles. Your body will react to each pain, each paddle, each probe, and as you react, you will naturally wiggle from side to side, pushing yourself forward, forcing the cycle to start all over. "To get you started, all I have to do is release the brake locks on all four wheels, give you a littttle push, and off you go. Are you ready?" Bonda wiggled her tongue and grunted. "Good," said Tyrenna. One by one, Tyrenna released the brake locks. After she released the last one, she stood up and looked at Bonda's motionless form. She went behind Bonda and pinched her left cheek. Bonda lurched forward, shimmying slightly from side to side. Bonda was off. She heard Tyrenna shut the plexiglas door behind her and the could feel the poles and pistons take on a life of her own. Whoosh. Clink. Whoosh. Clink. Left toe. Right toe. Swat. Whoosh. The shaft went deep into Bonda's mouth, gagging her, and slid back out. The other shafts did the same. Her nipples went taut, them limp. The paddles slapped her butt. Left. Right. Nipples taut. Nipples limp. Shaft in. Shaft out. Whoosh. Slap. Whoosh. Pull. In and out. Slap and pull. By her second trip around the room, Bonda wondered how long she could hold off an orgasm. Not long. Her body shook with delight before she made it around a third time. But she kept going, unable to stop. "Isn't this fun?" Tyrenna mused. "You come and go at the same time. You'll do five trips of 100 laps each, with a 5-minute break in between." Whoosh. Slap. Whoosh. Pull. In and out. Slap and pull. She came. She went. She had no choice. BINDING AGREEMENT, Part V By the time complete her fifth and last 100 laps around the room, Bonda had lost track of time. Had she been trapped inside the plexicage for hours? For days? She didn't think she'd ever want another orgasm. Too many. Too sore. And too tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. Tyrenna freed her and dragged her back downstairs for another bath, another potty break, another meal, and, of course, another ordeal. "How are you handling things so far, dear?" asked a suddenly conversational, almost chummy Tyrenna. "I feel like I could sleep for days," said Bonda. "I've been to the two extremes: at first I never thought I'd get aroused, and then I never thought I'd could stop it. Right now, I don't care if I ever have another orgasm. I'm so raw." Tyrenna pursed her lips. "You should remember what you say, dear. Mistress has this cruel way about her. The things you think you need, you don't. The things you don't think you need you, really do." Bonda was puzzled. Why was Tyrenna talking in riddles? She cocked her head at Tyrenna, as if to say: "Huh?" "You'll understand," Tyrenna said. "Starting with your next adventure: THE SLEEPING BAG." The Sleeping Bag. When Bonda first saw it, she almost laughed out loud. It was a very, very baggy, a long, heavy piece of rubber with a few hoses here and there. "For once, we've got nothing to probe, nothing to pinch," Tyrenna said. "We simply need to have you fit yourself with this white rubber baby doll nightie and matching panties and rubberized helmet." Before the helmet went on, Tyrenna slipped a blue ball gag with a breathing hose into Bonda's mouth. Bonda was very relaxed. The gag had a breathing hose. The helmet had a cupie-doll face painted on it, and other than the breathing hoses extending from the nose, Bonda saw nothing hellish about it. It laced up the back. There were no eye holes, but the opaque eyes allowed Bonda to at least see light and make out movement. Bonda could hear Tyrenna's every move. Bonda hummed into her gag. This was easy. Tyrena slipped on ankle and knee straps, then a pair of laced white rubber gloves that extended all the way to Bonda's shoulders. Bonda wiggled her fingers and swang her elbows. No real discomfort here, she thought. She felt Tyrenna afix a posture collar, to which a metal head cage was attached, with two bars each running from side to side, and from the back to the front. The bars held Bonda's head firmly fixed in a straight-forward position, but were not overly tight over chafing. Bonda felt her left arm being lifted over her head and across the cage. Her arm was attached to the cage with two straps at the elbow and one at her wrist. The same was done to the other arm. Her arms were now crossed over her head -- securely, but not painfully. Tyrenna stood back to see her bound victim. Bonda could see her form before her, but only the shape. She saw the form come closer, until it was standing directly in front of her. Tyrenna rubbed Bonda's crotch through her panties. Bonda moaned softly. Tyrenna reached up gently fingered each of Bonda's nipples through her nightie. Bonda moaned softly again. Then Tyrenna pulled hard on Bonda's nipples. Bonda screamed behind her gag: "M-m-m-p-p-p-h-h-h-h!!!" Tyrenna retreated two steps. "Okay, I guess it's time to bag our prisoner," Tyrenna said as Bonda stood there, shaking off the pain. "But first, I need to summon some helpers." Tyrenna rang a bell and within seconds Bonda saw three other dark figures in the room. She felt herself being lifted up and into the sleeping bag. The bag was held up all the way to her neck while Tyrenna fitted extension hoses into her three breathing hoses. Then Tyrenna and her friends pulled the bag over Bonda's head. Bonda was now it darkness. The rubber made it warm inside. Too warm. Bondas was sweating as she felt eight hands and arms wrap around and lift her onto a platform. She almost tettered, but was able to balance herself. She heard Tyrenna clear her throat: "You are standing on a plexiglass platform that is actually the bottom of an airtight plastic tube. Your breathing devises will be attached to the outside of the tube. Your bag has several inflatable bladders, and once we've fitted you inside the tube, the bladders will be inflated. Then, dear, you can sleep -- if you can." Bonda could hear the tube fitted over her bagged form. She felt the cool air from the outside rushing into her hoses. She felt the tube locked to its base, and she felt her body titled sideways. The tube was on its side now. Then the inflation began. Bonda did not know, but the bag had several layers of rubber. As each layer was inflated, the layer closer to her body shaped itself tightly around her form. As each layer was blown up, she felt the air push slightly this way and that in the tube. She heard air pocked pop open. Soon she was floating on the air inside the tube, within her prison. The inflation contrinued. She heard the rubber screech against the outer tubing as it sought spaces to squeeze into. Soon the air pressure was so tight, Bonda could not move at all. Still, she felt her body bag inflated more and more. Finally, when Bonda felt the inner core of the bag pressed tightly into every crack of her body, pressing her like a smothering lover, the inflation stopped and felt her tube lifted. She was carried over to the pit where she had bathed earlier. It had been drained and refilled with cold water. Her captors dropped Bonda's tube on top and it floated. Bonda felt hands hold the tube motionless. Bonda heard Tyrenna's voice echo through the tube and the layers of her rubber prison. "Okay, girls, let's take her for a spin." Bonda felt the tube spin rapidly sideways in the water, floating freely across the pit and back. Finally, it slowed. She breathed in and out, testing her breathing hoses. She was getting air, okay. Finally, she felt the tube go almost upright, then rock downward. Bonda twisted as hard as she could in her tubular coccoon. The tube rolled over twice, landing, again, upside down. "Damn," she thought to herself. "I forgot to breathe." Bonda was rolled face up and held as long metal cannisters were attached to either side of the tube the air hose in her mouth was split like a Y, with hoses attached to each cannister. Three-inch hose were attached to her nose-hose extensions at the back of her head. "Breathe in through your mouth and out your nose," Tyrenna said. "You have enough air in these cannsters for several hours. But the weight of the cannisters will force you underwater, although not enough to touch bottom beucase of the air inside. You will be submerge deep enough that when you exhale, the nose hoses will blow bubbles. You'll find those bubbles are awfully noisy and as go past your head and up to the surface, but hey, you'll know your breathing." Tyrenna laughed. "Okay, girls, let her go." Bonda felt the tube submerge below the water line. She could still breathe But inside her suit, it was hot. She felt her body sweat profusely. "You're probably sweaty in there," she heard Tyrenna say in a voice distorted by its travel underwater to Bonda's ears. "By the time you're out of there, you're skin will have probably shriveled. You'll be a prune. But first you'll start itching again. Some of it will be uncomfortable. But some of it, especially around your sore crotch and breasts, also will be erotic. But, of course, you'll be unable to do anything about it because you can't use your hands, and wiggling will only make it worse. "For now, just consider yourself the belle of bondage -- Tyrenna's first official diving belle, if you wish." Bonda snorted. When she did, the air exploded from her nose hoses, causing enough bubbles to rock her tube from side to side. ********************************************************** * Posted from the Erotica Vault * * New PERMANENT Web Address * * http://www.eccentrica.org/evault * * Email evault@mailcity.com * * Binding Agreement Part * * The Adventures Of Bonda Otytely * * Posting 2 of 4 * * The Best FREE Erotic Story Archive * * on the net :) * * * ********************************************************** -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----