Author's Note: I originally wrote this story over a decade ago and it was included in my first published book. The book is no longer in print, so I'm offering the story here for free. Enjoy and comment as you will. Bondage blessings to you all.


Part 1

All the toys are assembled as he described in the letter and the video camera is set up on its tripod. Even though he's far from me right now, my husband and I can still play master/slave games. I want this video of myself to be really good for him so I'm wearing the black PVC outfit he bought for me last year, the crotchless one with the open breasts and the lacing down the sides that, when pulled tight as they are now, squeeze my tummy tiny, kind of like a corset.

I've set the camera for a reasonably wide angle on the lens. This way he might not get any close ups once the games begin, but I'm not likely to move out of the picture, so he won't miss any of the action. I turn to the camera to address him.

"Hello, Master. I figure because we might someday watch this tape and wonder what the heck's going on, I'll save us the future trouble and give a little introduction. You're off on business to Wisconsin again, and I won't see you for about another five weeks. I miss you so! You've already been gone a little more than a week when you sent me this letter instructing me, as your love slave, to make this video and send it back to you so you won't feel quite so lonely. When you get it you'll have fun watching it, I'm sure. But right now I get to have fun making it for you.

"To start with, as you can see, I've worn this slave outfit for you 'cause I know it's one of your favorites. Oh, and nothing's started to grow back yet since the last waxing. I'm as hairless, nakedly clean and available down there as a good slave should always be for her master.

"Oh, and before I forget, I know you always want me to play safe, so I've already arranged for Tina to drop by around eight, just in case I get stuck. That gives me almost two hours (if I can stand it that long) before she gets here."

I point to the top of the decorative pillar he had installed near the wall in our bedroom.

"Now, in accordance with your instructions, Master, hanging by a thread at the top of the post are all the padlock keys except one. I can only reach them on my tippytoes or in my stilettos, which you can see I'm wearing right now. I know you love how these shoes look on me, how they force my foot to point straight down and the sharp curve they put in my calf, and I'm glad you instructed me to wear them because they make me feel more like your helpless slave. Thank you, Master.

"Again, according to your command, only one key is made available to me, which I wear around my neck on a string like a long necklace. The lock it fits will hold my shoe on. I can see how it's going to be difficult for me to reach the lock with the key. Very clever, Master. Of course, once the handcuffs are locked on, the only key I'll be able to reach will be the one on the cord around my neck, and even that one will be tough to get at and use. Okay, time for a close-up so you can see why this key will be so important to me."

I step out of the picture for a moment, returning with a chair which I set near the camera. I put my right foot up on the chair and take off the black stiletto. I hold a tiny key near the camera lens.

"This is the key to the handcuffs," I announce as I press it into the arch of my bare toes and grip it there.

I put the high heel back on again, trapping the handcuff key under my toes. Next, I wrap a black leather cuff snugly around my ankle, pulling the attached thinner strap under my shoe in front of the skyscraper heel and back up to the inside of my ankle to the small staple that holds it.

"Your letter specifically said to padlock this stiletto stirrup on the inside of my ankle when normally I would hang the lock on the outside. Although this will make things a little easier for me in the situation you've planned for me, it's still going to be tough to reach the lock with the key around my neck while my hands are manacled behind me. But I'm sure you will certainly enjoy watching me squirm as I struggle to reach it between orgasms."

Next, I move the chair out of the way and put the rest of the toys on the floor before securing one end of a chain around the base of the pillar with a padlock and the other end on my left ankle.

"There's about three feet of loose chain tethering me to the post, Master. This will prevent me from inadvertently rolling out of camera range. Just to make reference on the tape why this is necessary, ever since playing bondage games with you, I've lost all sense of self control when I have an orgasm, relying totally on my bonds to control me. So, without this for a leash, who knows where in the room I'd find myself when my ecstasy finally fades. By the way, thank you, Master, for allowing me to learn to give up such control so I can bask in the freedom of unrestrained orgasmic response. Without your bondage I would never have acquired such a liberating habit.

"That leaves only three more instructions to follow. Here comes the fun one. You've ordered me to lock a vibrator in myself, but you didn't specify how. I've decided to continue the chain motif by using the chastity chain you put together for me."

Three short lengths of sturdy steel linkage are attached together by a two inch wide steel ring. Placing the ring behind me, two lengths wrap tightly around each side of my waist to meet in front, held by a padlock which I don't close quite yet. The third length falls between my butt cheeks and will run through my crotch and up in front to the lock. But first...

"As you've instructed, Master, I've put fresh batteries in the vibrator. I'm turning it on now. Wow. Are these batteries stronger than normal or is it just my imagination? Okay, now I'm working the base of this dancing monster into the special rubber cap you got for it last month. It's pretty tight. There, I'm getting it, uh huh, yes, it's in all the way now. Oh, Master, this is devious. This cap will prevent me from switching it off. And the ring on the bottom will make sure the chain holds it in place. I can see how this will guarantee there's absolutely no cheating. Here goes."

Already wet from excited anticipation, I slowly slide the buzzing tormentor up into me, making sure the camera gets a good view of it sinking into my depths. Then I thread the chain through the ring at its base and pull tight to the open padlock at my navel. The shiny steel links burrow themselves into my vulva, driving the vibrator almost completely out of sight.

"With a snap of this lock, Master, the vibrator will torture me nicely until I can free my hands to reach the keys hanging high on the pillar. I can feel the vibrations of the dildo carried along the chain as it presses tightly on my clitty. It won't be long before I'm squirming out of control totally.

"Because you're not here, Master, and you can only watch me on video, there won't be anything important for me to use my mouth for. So in accordance with your instructions I'm going to gag myself for you by strapping this big, red, rubber ball in my mouth. This way you can clearly see how utterly gagged I am. Once I cuff my hands behind my back I'll never be able to reach to unstrap it. So this is about it for the narrative portion of the presentation, except, of course, for whatever moaning and groaning I'll probably do. I really wish you were here, Master. There's nothing like having your hands on me when I'm helpless."

And with that, I lean close to the video camera so he can see clearly as I seal my mouth with the ball gag, squeezing it in behind my teeth and buckling it tightly in back. In fact I buckle it a notch tighter than he usually does. Sometimes I think he's just a little soft on me when we play, so I'll show him how I really like it.

Now for the coup de gras. In clear view of the camera I slap a handcuff around my wrist and click it tight enough that I can feel it hold me, bearing in mind that without the key I can't double lock it to prevent it from accidentally closing tighter and hurting me. So it could be a little tighter and, in fact, I wish it were. But I demonstrate near to the camera lens that it is indeed inescapable, as I try to pull it off over my hand without success. Turning my back to the camera, I show my master as I close the other cuff around the other wrist. My commitment to helplessness is complete as the ratchet clicks with a tone of finality.

I've now trapped myself, rendering myself totally defenseless for my master's viewing pleasure. The bondage alone is enough to bring me close to orgasm, I love it so. But with the vibrator buzzing away deep inside me, climax won't be long in coming. I settle back on the floor and squirm in delicious anticipation. I'll let my master watch me have my first orgasm before beginning to attempt escape from my happy bonds.

My breathing grows heavy as I start to writhe on the rug. I tug on the handcuffs, enjoying their implacability. I love my bondage, especially at Jeff's hands. I count myself enormously fortunate to have such a husband to whose mastery I can so happily surrender. He may not be here in the room with me now, but I've bound myself according to his instructions and I'm taping it for him to see, so it's almost as if he's here watching but not touching. It may be for him that I submit to this, but it's also for me. I crave the control of my bonds. And the very real peril that I may actually fail to escape this self imposed restraint thrills me to the core.

I pull against the chain that holds my ankle to the pillar. Of course it holds me fast, I'm only seeking to experience every nuance of my captivity. I find myself wishing for more straps or ropes to hold my body, despite the fact my simple bonds are nearly inescapable.

Climax draws near and I grunt against the rubber ball that spreads my jaws and stuffs my mouth. My abdomen twitches and my loins grip spasmodically at the vibrator locked tightly within me. Very soon I will lose control.

Aside from the fact that my bindings afford Jeff the ability to hold me tight, even from a distance, one of the most wonderful things I love about bondage is that when I climax I can thrash around and buck as hard as I want to, knowing my bonds will hold me safely in place. In fact, I've gotten in such a habit of abandoning myself so completely to orgasm that, if we make love without bondage, it's all Jeff can do to hold me down and keep me from hurting myself. It's a good thing the bedroom carpet is so thickly padded. Still, I may come through this playtime with a few bruises to show for my pleasure.

As if I could see him, I stare at Jeff through the camera, wishing he were really here. He wants to see me bound and in ecstasy. He's about to get his wish. I feel that itching burn intensify deep inside my belly. My orgasm hasn't even hit me yet, but I'm beginning to pant through my nose, little moans escaping with each exhaled breath. I bite against the rubber ball that imprisons my mouth, denying me speech. My eyes close and my head falls back as the first wave of ecstasy washes over my senses. Here it comes.

My hips twist and sway. I can feel the heat in my groin burning. My inner muscles twitch and grab at the invading vibrator and my body begins to convulse. BANG! I'm cumming! I feel the floor against my shoulders. My hair flies around my face. I shiver and buck against my restraints. My bare nipples rub harshly against the carpet. Somehow I've wound up on my belly, humping my hips against the floor as hard as I can, grunting loudly through my nose. I must be putting on quite a show for my master, Jeff.

The muscles deep within me spasm with intensity around the busy dildo. If it weren't for the chain holding it tightly in me, it surely would have shot out across the room by now. My arms flail wildly behind me, held only to each other by the unbreakable grip of the handcuffs. My legs fly everywhere, my feet hitting hard on the floor, cushioned by the thick padding beneath the carpet. I roll around, completely lost to the throes of ecstasy. The chain on my ankle pulls me toward the pillar as I draw my knees to my face, straighten out and roll around some more. I am completely unable to control myself, a helpless prisoner to my own pleasure!

Minutes go by as the handcuffs, dildo and gag compel my orgasm to continue unabated. But at last the intensity begins to die down. I'm still cumming, but I'm regaining control over my actions. I feel a little dizzy as after-waves of pleasure seem to sweep across my vision like a multi-colored fog. I notice I've drooled a bit around the fat rubber ball.

Climbing to a sitting position, hair sticking to my sweaty brow, I look to the camera, panting hard. Jeff, you had better like this. Now you can watch me set myself free, because I don't think I can take too many more climaxes like that one without you here with me.

I reach my cuffed hands around my right side and take hold of the key dangling on the cord around my neck. My right hand reaches farther than the other, of course, but neither will reach my gag to set my mouth free. For that, or to do anything else, I need the handcuff key locked in my right shoe under my toes. I pull my right ankle up onto my left thigh to fit the key around my neck into the padlock that holds my shoe on. Oh, no! I can't reach my ankle! I pull with my leg, grunt and rock back and forth, trying to raise my foot higher into my lap. I've got to get this key into the lock or else I'm stuck here for more than another hour until Tina gets here to set me free. And there lies the nature of my peril; if I can get free, fine, I've had my fun. But if I can't, the intensity of my forced pleasure will drive me crazy long before Tina will arrive. I just can't take another whole hour of orgasms without Jeff! But I can't get a hold of my foot to pull it near enough to use the key.

Desperately, I get to my knees to try to use my own weight to my advantage. With my ankle against the floor, if I press myself down toward it in something of a crude stretching exercise, I might reach it. I have to stretch my other leg out behind me, out of the way, but the chain on my ankle prevents me. I'll have to face away from the pillar I'm tethered to. My faded orgasm, faded but not absent, threatens to return at full strength soon, as I squirm around and change position, aware that the camera is getting a great side view of me. Once again, I pull my ankle up over my knee. Then I hoist myself up onto my knees and begin to lean down, slipping my left knee back and straightening that leg. I flip the hair up off my face and realize I'll have to reach my hands around my left side to even touch my foot. Reluctantly, I let go of the key and switch my bound hands around behind me to the other side.

Success! I've grasped the tall heel of my shoe. But the key now rests on the floor beneath my chin. Unable to reach it, I sit up. The chain on my left ankle causes me to turn toward the camera as I pull my leg under me to get to a sitting position. The thought comes to my mind: Did Jeff think in advance how all this might happen? I feel so controlled. Hundreds of miles away, he's not even in the same state with me and yet he wields such control over my body. I haven't quite stopped cumming and I nearly swoon at the notion of his power. Oh, how I love him so.

I still have hold of the heel of my locked on stiletto. All I have to do now is swing the key that dangles from my neck into my right hand and fit it into the padlock and the handcuff key will be mine. I'd better hurry as the vibrator is once again joining with my helplessness to build up those joyous sensations deep within me that will surely steal away my ability to function.

I sway back and forth repeatedly, but the swinging key keeps missing my hand. I feel so bound, so helpless, so desperate, so turned on! The little orgasm that never really stopped is building again toward another wild crescendo. No, I can't yet lose control again, I've got to make this work. At last the key swings into my hand. I fumble with it in my fingers as my left hand pulls my foot a little closer.

Sensations of rapture swell within and a flush of prisoner's pleasure washes over me. I'm just about to get the little key to reach the lock when ecstasy forces me to abandon my struggles and I fall back on the floor, arching my spine and moaning loudly. There should be no doubt in Jeff's mind when he sees this that the vibrator and the strong sense of helplessness brought about by my bondage have conspired against me and just pushed me over the edge again. All I can do is writhe defenseless on the carpet until my orgasm begins to subside. But with the vibrator's unyielding insistence, I'll only have a short while between climaxes to try for freedom a second time.

It's a darn good thing I arranged for my best friend to let herself in around eight o'clock. If I can't get out of this, at least I'm sure to be rescued. One thing Jeff and I believe in is to always follow the safety rules. But it's not even seven yet. Can I stand another hour of this?

The phone rings. Well I certainly can't answer it in my current condition. The machine takes over and I'm pleased to hear Jeff's voice, even if it's only a recording.

"Hi, this is Jeff. I'm sorry I can't get to the phone and it seems Julie is a bit tied up at the moment. But if you leave your name, number and a brief message, we'll get back to you as soon as we get the knots loose."

Beeeeeeep!

"Hi, Julie, this is Tina. I'm sorry but I can't make it tonight like you asked me. Something came up. But I'll catch you tomorrow night. Gimme a call later. Gotta go. Bye."

As I hear her hang up, my stomach knots, my heart races and my loins grip tightly at the humming plastic fiend within me. She's not coming?! I'm stuck like this? For how long? No, not until tomorrow night! I've GOT to get myself loose!

With renewed effort and a strength I didn't seem to have before, I reach around from behind me with my cuffed hands, bruising my wrists on the steel to grasp my ankle and pull it toward my chest. Reaching for the key, I'm shocked at not finding it. GAWD no! Where is it? The string must have slipped off over my head. I panic, rolling around on the carpet looking for it. It's nowhere to be seen. Where the hell is it?

Suddenly I'm climaxing again. I grunt against the ball gag and scream through my nose. I can't help but thrash around, rolling over on my stomach and banging my hips against the carpet. I try my best to rub my clit against the rug for the next minute until, once again, I can regain a little composure. Lifting my head, I look back over my shoulder and scowl angrily at the camera. This is your fault, Jeff. But I know my master, he'll just get a good laugh out of this. And he's sure to get himself off, too.

My insides are still twitching in pleasure at my helplessness when an idea dawns on me. Wait a second! If the key is on the floor I'll reach the lock on my ankle easier with it. Why didn't I think of that before? I look around again but I still don't find the key. Am I sitting on it? I roll to the side, almost unable to control my orgasmic convulsions. Still no key. Where the hell..? If I don't find it I'm doomed to spend the night bound on the floor at the mercy of my buzzing, tireless, plastic tormentor. That thought did it! I've lost control again to my hormones! I roll and thrash and twitch and writhe, my strength draining away. Despite my ecstasy, I'm almost ready to cry. I've just got to find that key. I don't think I can take much more of this.

I hear the front door close. Jeff is hundreds of miles from here and Tina said she can't come by. So who else has a key to the apartment? No! Please tell me I didn't leave the door unlocked. It could be anyone at all. Maybe it's someone breaking in. Oh, I'm in great shape to defend myself! I've been panting already from the orgasms, but now my heart is REALLY racing!

Tina walks through the bedroom door. I'm emotionally relieved, but the adrenaline rush from the fear propels me to yet another level of crushing climax. She steps over me as I squirm and moan and strain against the bonds. She leans into the camera, waving.

"Hi, Jeffie. I figured you guys were up to something like this, so I came over to... Well, actually I haven't cum yet, but I intend to. I assume you'll give me authority to have my way with Jules, here, as long as it's fun for you to watch. Besides, you're not here to stop me and she's certainly in no position to."

She moves to the edge of the bed.

"Oh, is this the letter?"

Crossing her long legs in clear view of the video camera, she picks up the letter Jeff wrote me with the instructions for my present state of harassed helplessness.

I pant hard through my nose as I squirm on my stomach, struggling through my sixth or seventh climax. My hips rock involuntarily as the ecstasy holds me captive as much as my bonds. I look up at Tina, hoping for release. This has been a thrilling lot of fun, but enough is enough.

She sits on the bed reading the letter with my master's commands. Her shapely legs are crossed and drawn up a bit, looking very sexy and very long because of her short black miniskirt and... What?! Six inch black high heels?! I've NEVER seen her wear stilettos. I thrash around waiting for my orgasm to end, but this one seems to be longer and stronger than ever. I've been so lost in orgasm that I didn't realize at first what she said into the video camera, but now it sinks in. She hasn't come to rescue me but to torment me further. My climax suddenly hits a deeper level and I feel so utterly defenseless in my sexy bondage. I spread my legs wide, trying desperately to rub my clitoris on the carpet, but the chastity chain holds my bud just barely out of reach of most of the nappy fibers. I moan and groan through my nostrils and drool some more around my gag as I frantically hump the floor, scissoring my legs back and forth, not caring she's there to see me. My bound hands tug on the chain that separates my butt cheeks, unable to reach the buzzing dildo locked in by it.

"What's this on your back?" she asks. "A key?"

A key? The key is on my back? I feel her pick it up off me and its cord tugs at my throat.

"Oh, it's around your neck. Lift your head for me, sweetheart, and I'll take it off you."

I manage to comply, despite my ecstatic writhings, and she slips the cord up and over my head. She rolls me over on my back and I continue to squirm. I'm relieved as she fits the key into the little padlock on the stiletto stirrup, turns it, and releases the leather assembly that holds my shoe on. My toes grip the handcuff key as she tosses my high heel aside. Holding my foot in the air, she takes the tiny key and lightly runs it down the sole of my bare foot. My instant reaction is to jerk my foot away, but she holds it firmly and chuckles as she tickles me again with the key that holds my freedom. I roll on my belly, twisting my foot away from her, then roll back, sit up and pout at her with the saddest eyes I can muster. She lowers herself to one knee and lets her hand graze lightly up my inner thigh to rest upon my labia. I'm helpless before her and now she's touching me like she's never done before. She's stroking my naked pussy!

I struggle to maintain self control as my orgasm shifts gears again without ceasing. But control is lost to my beautiful tormentress as I squirm and writhe at her hands.

"Did you like my little phone call about not showing up? I'll bet you thought you'd be stuck here all night, didn't you? I'll bet the idea really got you hot, didn't it? Why, look how wet you are all around your dildo! You're having so much fun, aren't you? But guess what? You ARE going to be stuck in bondage all night, because I don't think you've had enough fun yet. I've got sweet plans for you, sweetheart. By the way, Jeffie told me where you guys hide all your bondage gear."

Oh, gawd! If she's acting this bold with the camera running, what's she going to do when the tape runs out?


Part 2 (added: 10/24/2009)

I always knew Tina had a mischievous streak, but I never dreamed she'd take advantage of my helplessness and victimize me like this. I suppose I should have known better, thinking back to when we were in High School together. She'd be the one with the schemes to set up the boys, getting them into trouble. Neither she nor I had any problem attracting dates, and she loved to coax the boys into doing things for us for which they'd surely be called to the Principal's office. Yet for the longest time she and I never suffered a scratch of blame, not until the Vice Principal caught on to what we were up to, and even had it figured that Tina was the real culprit.

I recall enjoying the thrill coursing through me as I was called on the carpet along side her for some sordid prank or another that we had gotten a boy in trouble for. My heart was pounding like crazy, and that I understood because there was a certain level of fear associated with it, but I never expected my pussy to tingle so madly at the time. I guess that was my first real recognition that there was something inside me that loved the control of authority, and I was figuring that out as I later shared my feelings with her. Well of course I told her, after all, she and I were inseparable, even though she told me she thought it was just plain weird to get off on getting caught.

I had always trusted her with my most precious secrets, just as she had with me. For years she has had the privilege of watching me nurture my proclivity toward submitting to boyfriends. She never really enjoyed any of her boyfriends, so she managed some understanding of my consternation at the caring and loving suitors who didn't know how to give me what I needed. She at least led me to believe she understood as I searched for the right man, always hoping this next one would be the one. She had comforted me through abusive affairs. And she'd rejoiced with me when I finally found Jeff, and again at each step in our developing relationship until I married him, truly making him my Master. Even if she couldn't relate it to her own feelings, she shared my joy while she mentally chronicled how I learned to love the bondage Jeff put me in as our courtship started. She would smile as I beamed at each step I took in granting him a deeper trust and he wrapped my heart more tightly with invisible chains of love. She may not have been there during my most intimate moments with Jeff, but she saw us together a lot and I told her everything. She is my confidante and confessor. She has been with me every step of my submissive development into the happy slave I've become.

I guess that the dominant/submissive relationship that my husband and I enjoy has rubbed off on her. Despite all our sharing of secrets, she never let on that she was learning to appreciate the way I reveled in my submission. Perhaps at first she didn't realize this, but she must have been paying close attention. I mean she had always been the leader and me the follower, but now look at how easily she takes to the role of dominatrix over me as I thrash about, orgasming in my helpless bondage. Never in a million years would I have expected her to pull this stunt on me.

She's my best buddy, for crying out loud. But here she is with her hand in my naked, spasming crotch, her fingers feeling the chain tightly wedged into my sopping pubis, the way it threads through the rubber ring on the end of the special cap that holds the tormenting vibrator deep within me.

I've never fancied the idea of doing something sexual with another woman (let alone with Tina!), but the complete helplessness and utter vulnerability of my situation compels me on to an incredibly intense climax. My hands tug unconsciously at the handcuffs that hold them behind me, further bruising my wrists. I flail about on the floor, pulling away from her, my legs kicking about and my left ankle bruising against the chain that tethers it to the pillar. Tina may not have a chance of keeping control of me during my energetic contortions, but I'm still helpless and very much in her power.

Despite the fact that it's my best friend who's toying with me, rather than my Husband/Master, I can't believe how much I'm enjoying this erotic escapade. I can't seem to stop cumming as again I grind my nipples into the nap of the carpet and thump my pelvis against the padding beneath, scissoring my legs against the feel of the vibrator's unceasing stimulation and the taut chain pressing hard against my clit. My inner muscles clench madly against the tightly fitting dildo, unable to expel the formerly welcome intruder. The notion that I'm helpless to change this fact only increases the feverish flow of hormones through my tortured loins.

The ballgag is one of my favorites, so large that it holds my jaws wide apart, almost uncomfortably so, making it virtually impossible to swallow. It makes me feel so defenseless that I'm usually half way to a climax just by wearing it and having my hands bound so I can't take it off. By now I'm drooling around the rubber stopper like crazy. It embarrasses me to be seen by Tina this way, so helpless and so uncontrollably orgasmic. As my climax compels me to twitch and flop about on the floor, I pull my lips back, baring my teeth against the ball, and try to suck back some of the saliva, making a wet, slurping, sucking sound that only embarrasses me further. It serves to increase my sense of helplessness and vulnerability, thus intensifying my orgasm and making me thrash around with greater zeal. Drool is everywhere, puddling here and there, soaking into the carpet, slopped across my face, breasts and shoulders, soaked into my hair. I blush furiously and strain at the force of my thundering paroxysms, the muscles in my belly clenching furiously, wrenching the pleasure from my organs.

Though I know it's impossible, I'd swear this one climax has lasted for a quarter hour, but at last I feel the driving force of my orgasm begin to wane. This whole episode has been a delightfully amazing rhapsody, but enough is enough for pity's sake. The buzzing of my personal invader keeps a milder pleasure humming right along with it as I collapse face down upon the carpet beneath me and pant to save my life through widely flared nostrils. I need to catch my breath and regain a little strength before my hormones conspire with the evil toy to push me up toward another peak. I don't think I can take another climax. My hair is in my face as I turn my head to look at Tina. I have no choice but to beg her assistance.

She is sitting on the bed again, grinning at me. She looks as mischievous as I've ever seen her. I'm worried. I've seen that look in her eye so many times before. I've got to reason with her. I can't take much more of this. Yet, how do I reason with her when words are denied me by the rubber sphere filling my mouth?

With supreme effort, I throw my head to clear my face of most of the hair and, squirming humiliatingly, I crawl over to her, whimpering pathetically, my eyes pleading for all I'm worth. Surely she'll take pity on me. Surely she'll show mercy toward her best friend. She just has to or I'm done for. With my hands shackled behind me, crawling is difficult and I haven't the energy to keep my face lifted to look at her. I feel my ankle jerked back by the chain that tethers me to the pillar; I can crawl no further. I look up at her again as she stands back against the bed, her long legs crossed, the toe of one stiletto heeled shoe only inches beneath my nose.

"Oh Jules," she shakes her head at me. "What a sad case you are. Here you are, having the time of your life, and you want it to stop?"

I nod vigorously. Yes, please stop it!

She lowers herself, crouching to the floor before my prostrate form, then her knees fall to either side of my head. She cradles my head in her hands, lifting my face to her as she leans in close. "You've been climaxing for quite a while, haven't you? Peaking, falling, and peaking again, over and over."

Again I nod, this time letting her feel my exhaustion as she holds me. I continue panting hard, my heart still racing, as she lays my head back to the carpet.

She leans over my bound body and strokes her hands along the bare globes of my bottom, exposed by the decadently seductive design of my fetish attire. Her finger traces down the length of steel links where the chain pulls tightly between my bottom cheeks. Weaseling around the chain, her fingertip finds my anus and she tenderly teases it, pressing just enough that it starts to open to her.

Gawd no! Please don't tease me to another climax. I just can't take it. She's goading my hormones into bringing my sensitivity back up and I could swear the vibrator shifts gears to affect me more. I squirm again, trying to get away from her. Summoning all my strength, I manage to roll to the side and escape her exploring hands, but I can't escape the vibrating toy trapped within me. I whimper and plead vehemently, my eyes imploring her as I continually shake my head no.

"Oh, alright. Hold on a second."

She gets up off the floor and I'm hopeful as I watch her step over me and reach for the keys hanging high on the pillar. Straining to reach, she manages to grasp them and, with a simple tug, she snaps the thread that had held them so far from me. She now holds all the keys that keep me prisoner and she playfully dangles them in front of me, stepping toward the tripod.

"Come on over closer to the camera, Jules. I want Jeffie to get a really good look at this."

For some minutes I had actually forgotten about the video recording being made of the scene. Heaving a sigh of disappointment, I collapse again for a moment. Then, groaning at my predicament and knowing she has me where she wants me, I rustle up a little hidden bit of energy and squirm across the carpet, sure that the camcorder is picking up every detail of my humiliating struggle to approach her. It dawns on me that she's being a perfect dominatrix, or at least as perfect as I would figure, having never submitted to a woman before. It absolutely kills me that it's Tina who's dominating me in my bondage. I look again at her shiny new stiletto shoes and begin to realize how she's planned this. But I'm at a total loss as to why she'd want to do this to me in the first place.

"Up on your knees," she orders me.

She's kidding! Can't she see I don't have the strength? I'm so drained, it's record breaking. Again the carpet meets my face as I collapse.

Suddenly I feel her palm striking my fanny hard. Six quick slaps in a row, and they hurt too, but all I can do is squirm, rocking my hips side to side. The vibrator sings an insistent accompaniment to the rhythm. I whimper again and start to cry.

She leans close and inspects me, at last recognizing the depth of my exhaustion. "Wow, you're not faking it. Alright, I'll give you a hand."

She grasps my shoulders and pulls while I heave, trying to help her help me up. With great effort from each of us we finally get me up on my knees, sitting on my heels. She dangles the keys again in front of my nose. I look at them and then up to her, my sad eyes begging for release.

"You want out?"

I nod.

"Sorry sweetie, I like you tied up like this."

One moment she offers me hope. The next she drives me toward depression.

"But I'll do this for you. I'll get rid of the dildo. Would you like that?"

The next moment she fills me with hope again. I nod as vigorously as I can, my doleful eyes gazing up at her pleadingly.

"On one condition."

I can't believe it. She's holding my hormones hostage. My head lolls to the side, my eyes closing and my lungs emptying in a long sigh of exasperation. I give a nod which doesn't at all mask my utter exhaustion. I feel my saliva leak around the huge rubber ball and drool over my breast. My hair sticks to my wet chin as I wearily lift my head again and look up at her. What's her one condition?

"You have to agree to be completely obedient to me, as if I'm second in command only to your master. You got that? I mean it. If you don't make me happy the dildo goes back in with fresh batteries and I play with you and tease you till you pass out. I really mean it." Her expression and tone of voice tell me she isn't kidding around.

What choice do I have? Again I nod. I can't believe my best friend has betrayed me so. Or has she? I suppose in her mind she's giving me what she thinks I want. But I want it from Jeff, not from her. And Jeff knows just how far he can push me. He and I have spent years honing our relationship and learning all there is to know about how far to take something and when to back off. She has no idea about any of this. She probably doesn't even realize... Well, I have shared all my secrets with her, after all. Maybe she'll actually back off when I need her to.

But she leaves me no choice in the matter anyway, so I relent to submitting to her as my mistress for the evening. I decide I can show her my intention by kissing her foot, hampered by the huge gag, of course. I bend low and press the ballgag against her ankle, straining to reach my upper lip around it to touch her stockinged leg.

"Oh my. That's very nice, Jules. And I'm glad we're making some progress here. But that's not where I want you to kiss me."

I feel her hand cup me beneath my chin and lift me up from my bent position. But she doesn't lift me all the way up. She stops me at her crotch and I see that she has lifted her black leather miniskirt. Her musk is potent and I discover that she's wearing no panties. She steps a little forward, her spread feet straddling my hips, as I kneel submissively before her, groaning that it has come to this.

Oh gawd no. I've never done anything like this with a woman and I certainly don't want to start such things with my best friend. I begin whimpering again and, in response to my sense of distress, the vibrator finds my loins perking up once more at my helplessness. No, please no. Why can't I just tell myself not to cum? Why have I developed my libido to spring to such liveliness as my helplessness is so clearly demonstrated?

My whole abdomen aches from far too many orgasms already. The vibrator buried within me buzzes away, its batteries not even beginning to show signs of weakening. The tight chain holding the invader deep inside me carries the vibrations to my captive clit. Despite how the muscles in my belly need rest, I couldn't hope to escape another crushing climax. I desperately need her to unlock the chain and take the crippling thing out of me before it half kills me.

"I'll save you from your torturous toy," she assures me. "But first you'll do a really good job for me, won't you?"

I nod, knowing I'm absolutely defeated. I really wish she'd free me of the evil vibrator first, but I'm totally at her mercy and so I'll do anything she says. I'm going to have to. I just hope Jeff understands and doesn't get upset at me for submitting to her this way. After all, I'm supposed to be his slave, not hers, and he's not too big on the idea of sharing me, or, well, at least not without his immediate supervision. More than that, I hope he finds it enjoyable to watch on the video recording. After all, this was supposed to be for him before Tina interjected her own agenda.

She pulls my head into her crotch as she squats to meet my face, her parted thighs brushing on either side of my head, over her gripping fingers. A shudder runs through me as I have no choice but to allow myself to be controlled by her this way. The shudder is enjoyable and I curse myself for liking it.

My nose makes contact, finding her to be wet with excitement. She rubs herself against my nose, spreading upon me enough of her own juices to nearly match the abundance of saliva on my chin. I'm almost choking on the strong scent of her arousal, but as she squirms against me I rub back, trying to give her what she wants. My wrists hurt, calling my attention to the fact that I'm unconsciously tugging on the handcuffs. I feel so vanquished, so vulnerable, so helplessly in her power, and my crotch responds with renewed excitement. No, I can't cum again, especially not now. I whimper against the gag in my distress, yet I rub my nose deeper into her wet nest. I'm hoping that my obedience to her will earn a more immediate freedom from the tormenting toy which is once again, in consort with my spiraling sense of enslavement, causing my wanton flesh to ignore my exhaustion and work toward another orgasm.

I hear her panting from her building arousal, and I pant also from my own, my nostrils flooding with her potent musk. Her moisture dribbles down across my upper lip as I nuzzle my nose against her clit. I hear her moan as I provoke within her the same pleasurable sensations that have racked my body for about the last hour or so. I make a conscious effort to bring her off quickly, hoping to push her to orgasm before mine overtakes me. Once I start cumming I'll lose control again and I'd better have gotten her off by then or she won't be happy with me.

I sense her desire increasing as I continue trying to ignore mine and concentrate on rubbing her the right way. I'm relieved at these signs that I'm succeeding, but worried at the signs of my own building arousal. Her thighs press more firmly against my head, crushing her hands against my face as they pull me more tightly into her. She moans more loudly and I can feel her mons twitch and the muscles deep within her vulva contract against me. Suddenly I can't breathe as she pulls me tightly up into her sopping sex, threatening to drown as much as smother me. I'm tugging desperately on the handcuffs only to feel more trapped than ever. Oh no, here I go again. Still I try to concentrate on rubbing her off with my nose, wanting nothing more than for this to be over with. Her knees shake and her weight starts pressing me back toward the floor as she cries out from what must be a wondrous orgasm for her.

With my helplessness so convincingly demonstrated, I lose the control I was so precariously trying to cling to, lost now in the throes of my own ecstasy. My energy drained, I succumb to a gut wrenching climax, my body weakly twisting and half struggling for freedom as my abdomen spasms and clenches painfully with unwanted pleasure. I need to breathe, but she still holds my head locked between her thighs, my face buried in her quivering snatch. Her knees hit the carpet as I collapse beneath her, but she still has me held captive in her crotch.

"Oh gawd that was good!" she loudly exclaims in a ragged voice with enough volume that it barely penetrates to my ears through her thighs which are still tightly clamped over them.

At last she relaxes her legs and falls forward to rest on her hands and knees above me, and from the grip of her thighs, I fall back to the floor beneath her, my lungs heaving for life. I'm snorting her cum as my nostrils flare and try to clear. Some of her cum has gone up my nose on the right side and I can't clear it all out. It stings, though not a lot, but the pungent fragrance is now sure to be with me for a long time. I pant hard for breath, even as my hips twitch with defiant joy at my enslavement, draining me of the last of my energy. Painful yet joyous moments pass until my pelvis begins to quiet its involuntary movements as my ecstasy fades. My belly feels like I've been doing a thousand sit-ups.

I open my eyes to see her smiling down at my face as she still crouches over me. Then she surprises me by lowering herself to me and licking her own juices from my face, her tongue trailing over my nose, across my upper lip and even lapping up the moisture off the fat rubber ball. She kisses me all over my cheeks, my forehead, my nose and chin, my jaw, and finally she nibbles upon my neck.

I'm so completely exhausted that I can't even show my incredulous surprise at how lasciviously she's acting toward me. We've shared all kinds of secrets in the past, but apparently not everything. I never would have guessed her to have these Sapphic tendencies, and I'm further shocked that she'd play out this lesbianism with me of all people. Bound and helpless, I'm totally at her mercy and unable to escape her lustful actions. I feel so victimized and my twat twitches in response. No, not again. I can't possibly cum again.

"Thanks Jules," she pants. "That was wonderful." She may not be as breathless as I am, but she has certainly spent some energy. "I guess I'll save you from your battery powered friend now."

I'm so relieved as she crawls over to where she dropped the keys and then lays on the carpet beside me, fumbling with the padlock on my chastity chain. The first key doesn't fit. The second fits but doesn't turn. She doesn't know which key is which and meanwhile my pussy is threatening to build its responses to my bondage with another climax.

At last one of the keys turns and I hear the lock snap open. My loins are so nearly numbed by the constant vibrations of the dildo that I hardly feel the chain loosen slightly with the snap of the lock, but I certainly feel it lift away from my belly and pull from between my labia as she begins removing it. The waist chain falls to either side and the buzzing dildo slides a little out of me as she slips the crotch chain through the ring on the rubber cap that tightly grips the end of it. Each link clinking through the ring gives a new definition to the deep feel of the motorized monster. I'm afraid I'll cum again before she finishes removing it. But as she mercifully pulls it from me I feel a sense of loss mixed with my relief. I'll never understand why but, despite my great need for rest, I feel a mourning for the loss of the constant vibration and the feeling of fullness offered by the toy.

I can hear her wrestle with the slippery phallus until she manages to remove the rubber cap and reach the switch that it hid. I'm breathing easier now that I hear the silence. No more buzz. My poor abdomen can rest at last. My eyes half open again to see her looking me over, her gaze traveling up and down my bound, energy depleted body and studying my face.

"Wow, I guess you really are finished for a while. Okay, I'll set you free a little, but not completely. I'm still in control."

At this point I don't care. Any freedom will be welcome. My eyes close again as I lay here awaiting my measured liberation. I can feel the handcuffs digging into my back a little, and I'm almost too exhausted to move, but I raise my hips a little and slip my hands to the left so the steel manacles show to my left and I'm resting upon my right arm behind me.
She steps out into the living room for a moment, then I strain to raise my head a little to see her carry back a large brown paper bag, stuffed with something. I drop my head back to the floor as she sets it down on the bed and retrieves the key ring.

She fumbles for the proper key again and unlocks the chain from my ankle. I've barely the strength to flex my leg a bit to feel the freedom restored to it. Then I feel her fingers at my cheek as she turns my head away from her. Yes! She's unbuckling the gag. The strap tightens for just a moment as she yanks at the buckle, then it falls loose upon my cheek. She tilts my head to face up again and takes hold of the strap where it protrudes through either side of the ball. I can feel her tugging, lifting my head off the floor and I strain to open my jaws wider, but it hurts to do so.

"Dang it, Julie, this thing is wedged in so tight it's ridiculous."

I know, it's a huge ball. That's why it's my favorite. It gags me really solidly and multiplies my feeling of helplessness.

She starts to press it down into my lower jaw and rolls it forward, squeezing it from behind my upper teeth. I feel pain deep in both ears, but I also feel the rubber ball scraping past the edge of my upper teeth. At last it pops free, but I feel her still hold it against my lips. I open my eyes and look up at her.

"You've told me how you do this for Jeffie. I expect you to do the same for me."

I'm still handcuffed, and I'm too exhausted to even think about fighting her anyway, so I comply. In the same ritual that I do for my Master, I suck the saliva off the ball, then kiss it, and finally swallow the accumulated mouthful of drool. She smiles down at me as she takes the gag away and I waggle my jaw to work out the bit of strain in it from the duration of its over-extension.

The next thing I know, she's leaning close again and closing her mouth over mine. She kisses me, her tongue licking my lips, but I'm too shocked to respond. She backs off and looks at me with stern eyes. "Hey, kiss me like you mean it."

It seems strange to hear my own voice as I finally have a chance to argue with her. "But Tina, you're my best friend, not my lover." There's no anger in my words, I'm simply whining in exasperation.

"Wrong. I'm your mistress, and you'll do as I say."

Heaving a great sigh, "Yes, ma'am," I relent. What choice do I have in my present state of captivity?

Again her mouth is on mine and I kiss her in return as I would my husband. My tongue reaches into her mouth and probes around, but it just doesn't feel right. Still, I ignore my feelings and kiss her back, trying not to disappoint her, trying to earn a bit of favor from her.

When I feel her hand on my right breast, gently kneading the mound as her kiss becomes more passionate, I roll my head to the side to escape her lips and tongue. "Please, Tina. I can't do this."

She pulls away with a disgusted look. I've displeased her, but she's not my mistress, no matter what she says, so big deal. I can't believe she's pulling this on me. How many years have we known each other? And I never foresaw this coming from her. How could I?

I plead with her, filling my voice with as much soulful begging as I can muster. "Please, Tina. Please don't do this. You and I aren't like this with each other. I'm afraid this will ruin our friendship."

"It's time our friendship changed anyway, Jules. You remember how I never liked any of your boyfriends very much? I could never tell you when we were younger, but it's because I was jealous."

"What? I... I don't understand."

She lays on her side, pressing up against me, her head resting on her outstretched arm. She whispers in my ear, "I really am surprised at how blind you are, Jules. I've always wanted you, and now I've got you."

I turn my head and look at her with incredulous eyes. "Got me? Oh, wait a minute. You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"

"I can't believe I need to spell it out for you, love. What do you think I mean?"

"You're not saying you're a lesbian, are you?"

Her eyes sparkle at me as she smiles broadly, her nearly perfect teeth gleaming brilliant white between her ruby painted lips.

"But you don't dress like a guy or anything," I counter.

"Where does it say I have to be butch to be a lesbian?"

"But you've dated men," I argue.

"Boys, back in school. I was trying to be 'normal' back then. When's the last time you knew me to date a guy? Hmmm? Been a long time, hasn't it? Of course I didn't tell many people for a long time, not even you. Still, I expected you to figure it out. You of all people, Jules."

"I... I didn't know," I stammer.

"Yeah, that's what surprises me. I've always been attracted to you, and yet you never once picked up on the signs. We've been best buddies since we were barely teens. As a kid I used to be ashamed of the thoughts that ran through my head about you. But as I matured I came to accept myself for what I am. I've dated other women but I've always longed for you. In time I figured out that I'd have to become some kind of dominatrix to be able to claim you and I started secretly looking into this whole BDSM thing, but by then you and Jeff were going pretty strong. I've resigned myself to the fact that I can never truly have you, but for tonight you're mine and nobody can do anything to change that. I'm finally making a secret dream come true."

"Oh gosh," I stammer dumbfounded. "Tina, I... I don't know if I can handle this. Please let me go."

"Are you afraid of being unfaithful to Jeff? Don't worry about that. You're my pretty prisoner. It's not like you're deciding to cheat on him. I'm totally to blame. You're my victim. But don't worry, I won't hurt you, and I'll even keep the tape running so your precious Jeffie will know everything that happens between us."

My heart sinks. As long as she keeps me in bondage, I haven't got much choice in the matter. Inspiration hits my weary mind and, with an ulterior motive, I try appealing to her mercy.

"Tina, these handcuffs are really hurting me. Could you please unlock them. You know Jeff wouldn't be very happy if I end up injured."

She gets up on her knees and lets her eyes roam my body for a moment. "Hmmm. Yeah, I think that would be a very good idea." She looks through the keys on the ring for the right one. The handcuff key should be easy for her to recognize.

I'm surprised at how much effort it takes for me to just roll over on my stomach. I'm really exhausted, and now I just lie here waiting for her to unlock the manacles which have bruised my wrists. I hear her get up for a moment. I'm too spent to even lift my head and turn to face the other side to watch her, so I listen to her movements as I look at the camcorder humming away on its tripod near the far wall.

It sounds like she's pulling the travel bag from beneath the bed. Oh no. She's getting out some rope, or perhaps some of Jeff's other bondage toys. Now I'm worried that, although I'll be relieved of the harsh steel handcuffs, I'll not be set free as I was hoping for. I'll remain her helpless captive, spending perhaps the whole night as her unwilling slave.

She stands behind me, leaning over me to see my face, her hands held behind her back. "We're making this video for Jeffie, right?"

"Yes...?" I'm laying on my belly, craning back over my shoulder to look up at her as she stands to the back side of my head. I couldn't see what she's holding even if it weren't behind her back.

"So he really likes his bondage serious, right?"

"Your point being?" Now she's really got me worried.

"I'm going to tie you up for his video in a way that he'll really appreciate. You'd want him to be satisfied, wouldn't you? After all, you're his slave."

I can see that it was foolish to hope that she'd just unlock the handcuffs that I might put a stop to her madness. Now I try lying to counter her point about my relationship with my Master. "We only play at that. I'm not really his slave; I'm his wife."

"Oh come on. You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?"

I strain to roll back a bit and look at her with as much innocence in my eyes as possible under the circumstances. "Really, it's a game." I discover myself nervously tugging again on the handcuffs.

"Oh, you yourself have told me otherwise. Besides, I've been having a few talks with your master and he assures me that it's a bit more than just a game. And despite my personal plans for this evening, you are making this video for him. Now are you going to be cooperative for his pleasure's sake, or earn his wrath later?"

"I don't think I'm the one earning his wrath right now," I counter.

"Oh, I disagree. You're supposed to be entertaining him on tape. I have a hunch he'll be plenty entertained by your submission to me."

The thought occurs to me that she could actually be right about that. He does indeed love my submission and has enjoyed watching me submit to some of our D/s friends in the local support group at a few play parties. Of course none of those encounters were really sexual, although they were certainly sexy. So there is actually the possibility that he would be quite pleasantly stimulated by seeing me submit in bondage to my best friend. This whole thought process flashes through my mind in a second and I'm left silent, having no rejoinder to her statement.

I hear her rummage through the travel bag of bondage gear. Her sigh is clearly one of disappointment. I couldn't guess why she'd be disappointed with the toys in the collection that Jeff and I have amassed. Then I hear the rustle of the paper bag.

"I thought for sure you'd have more rope than this. But that's okay. Something told me today to make sure I'd have enough, so I stopped by the hardware store and got some extra."

"Uh oh. What kind did you get? I hope not something hard and scratchy."

"It's three eighths inch nylon braid. Jeffie told me to get that kind when I had asked him about it once."

"Please don't call him Jeffie. It's so disrespectful."

"Ah, but that's the difference. You're his slave and you hold more respect for him in that way. Jeff and I are more playfully disrespectful toward each other. Surely you're not blind to that too."

She's right about that; I've seen them tease each other with smart-alec remarks. But it still bothers me that she calls him "Jeffie."

The notion suddenly occurs to me that if she ties me up in rope, with her lack of expertise in knotsmanship, I'm likely to wiggle out of it and be done with this for the night. Don't get me wrong, I love my bondage, but not at the hands of anyone else except my Master/Husband Jeff, or at least under his watchful, protective eye. I'm hopeful as I feel her lift my handcuffed arms above my prone body.

My shoulders feel the tension as she pulls my cuffed hands about two feet or so above my back and begins wrapping the rope around my elbows. She tightens the wrappings, drawing my elbows together, and winds the rope firmly around my upper arms. Jeff loves that he can tie my arms so my elbows touch, but how did Tina know that I could handle this? She cinches the binding with a few windings of rope around the wrappings, threading it between my bound arms and pulling it tight as she knots it. Then she erases most of my hope of escaping her ropework by pulling the leftover length up over my left shoulder, lifting me a little off the floor to cross the line over my chest and pull it beneath my right arm to the knot again, then up over my right shoulder, crossing the first wrap high on my chest and under my left arm to tie off again between my bound elbows. These ropes over my shoulders will prevent me from wiggling the elbow bindings down my arms, should they loosen enough to let me try that, and I'm wondering how much studying of bondage she's done to prepare her for imprisoning me. This is as good a binding as Jeff does on me, and I'm already guessing I won't be able to wiggle free.

I feel her fumbling a bit to get the key into the left handcuff. It loosens and she then unlocks the right one and discards the metal manacles, tossing them to the bed. With my elbows bound the way they are, it makes no difference if my hands aren't tied, but immediately she replaces the steel with rope on my wrists. Within a minute she has my hands bound palm to palm, wrapped and frapped, and now she's winding another length of rope up my forearms, mummifying them in the soft yet firm nylon braid. Jeff never uses this much rope on just my arms; a short length around my wrists and another at my elbows is usually enough to render me absolutely helpless for hours. I wonder what this binding looks like to the eye of the camera.

Too exhausted to fight her handling of me, I lay limp on the floor, allowing her to bind me as she wills. I'm already helpless, so what good would it do to resist her? Of course a bit of struggling would make a better video for Jeff, but I simply haven't got the energy.

She leans down and bends her face close to mine. "You really are tuckered out, aren't you?"

I nod listlessly, not even spending the energy to say yes.

"So should I play with you or simply bind you?"

She gives me a choice? Well the answer would be the same even if I were abounding with vivacity. "Just bind me."

"Oh, I think you should show me a little more respect at this point. I want to hear you call me Mistress."

I lift my head a little and look up at her with disbelieving eyes. She's looking back at me with that playful, mischievous look I've known since childhood, but there's a certain evil gleam mixed into it. Sadly, I realize I'd better play into her hand and keep her happy. Surely Jeff will understand.

"Please bind me, Mistress."

She breaks into a broad grin. "Ooooo, now that sounds just about right, don't you think? Let me hear it again, and make it sound even more real this time."

I'm defeated, and a profound sadness suddenly wells up within me. I don't need to throw any false emotion into the words as I'm almost ready to start crying. "Mistress, please bind me." Having said it, I feel that old tingle inside my nose and I steel myself against shedding any tears. No, I can't cry, I can't let her get to me. I've given her what she wanted, at least for now. I just hope she doesn't take this too far.

"Mmmmm," she sighs with sensual satisfaction. "Yes, I really do like the way that sounds. I think I could really get into this Mistress thing."

She gets up again and steps behind me to fetch more rope. The next moment she's wrapping it around my ankles and cinching it snug. She rolls me over on my back, onto my bound arms, and repeats the binding with more rope above and below my knees.

As she binds me, I allow my sadness to settle into a mild depression. I'm still laying quiet, not showing the faintest sign of vigor, and I don't intend in any way to help her as she continues to immobilize me. But her ability to handle my limp form surprises me as the ropes continue to be added to my bondage.

I see her pulling lots of rope from the paper bag she brought and adding to it the rope Jeff already has in our collection. Soon my legs are sheathed in rope from ankles to knees, just like my arms from wrists to elbows. My thighs are also tightly bound by yards and yards of line, covering them from my knees nearly up to where my stocking tops would be, were I wearing any.

I'm adamant in not helping her as she rolls me over again and grabs hold of my hips, pulling them to heft my bottom into the air. She kicks at the backs of my thighs and grunts, "Tuck your knees up under you!" It's clear she wants me in a kneeling position. Tough! If she wants me kneeling, she'll have to get me there herself.

Panting with exertion, she grabs the riding crop from Jeff's bag of goodies and slashes the air a few times, making it whistle wickedly. Then she points it at me and, with anger in her eyes, she demands, "You'd better start acting like a good and helpful slave, Jules, or there'll be hell to pay!" She steps around to my side and strikes my bottom sharply with the crop.

I yelp from the attack of the nasty little implement, jerking in response to the impact and surprised at how fiercely she can wield the weapon. "Yes, Mistress," I answer her, hoping it's what she wants to hear. I flinch as she points the crop at my face. Then, with supreme effort, I arch my fanny into the air and pull my knees up, my upper body slipping back on the carpet. The ropes around my thighs and behind my knees seem to tighten as I flex my legs, bringing my knees up somewhere beneath my breasts.

"Sit up straight!" she barks at me. "Or rather, kneel up straight."

I struggle to comply, groaning as my muscles find that they still can move, but I'm just not able to get myself to the position she demands. My weight rests on my knees and my turned face. Grumbling with her disappointment in me, she grasps my shoulders and from there she has to lift me to help me up into a kneeling position. I quickly find that my balance is precarious at best and I struggle to keep from falling to either side.

Bound as I am, not only by the over use of rope upon my limbs but also by the near complete lack of strength in said limbs, I'm obedient to lift my chin for her to slip a tall black leather collar around my throat. I figure the hole in the strap that Jeff usually buckles the collar to must be visibly marked by its use, because she secures the collar just as snug around my neck as Jeff usually does. A little lowering of my chin and I can feel that the big steel ring in the front of the collar is barely off center to the right. Nonetheless, she yanks at it a bit until she's satisfied that it's perfectly centered.

She steps away, her eyes taking in my bound and kneeling form. She smiles and says, "Struggle a little for the camera."

I roll my eyes.

"Oh, I know you're still tired from your orgasmic workout, but give it a little effort. Do it for Jeffie." She emphasizes her request as a command by tapping the riding crop against my shoulder.

What choice have I? Leaning my head back and turning it over one shoulder, I try to get a look down my back to see how my elbows are bound. No good. The abundance of rope pinches a bit as I bend my elbows and twist my hands around to the left. What I see of the ropes on my wrists and forearms doesn't encourage me. I'm truly trapped, but I'll be obedient. I squirm a little, watching my balance and tugging on my arms, shifting them laterally against each other only to find they'll move less than half an inch this way. I rise up on my knees, slowly on account of my weakness, and carefully twist at the waist to look back down at my heels. My ankles are well tied and I can't see any flesh at all through the wrappings of rope that encase my calves all the way up to my knees. I look back at her for a moment, double checking that she really expects me to spend what remains of my precious energy in an absolutely useless struggle against these bindings.

She raises her left eyebrow in that way I've seen so many times before in our youth, meaning that she expects to get what she's demanded and I'd better go along with her. Just as when we were kids, she's still the leader and I'm still the follower. She obviously expects that not to change, except that I should now comply even more completely.

I turn and look to the camera, the thought occurring to me that the tape should be running out in a while. At that point it will be two hours since I first started binding myself for my Master's pleasure. I've lost track of time and, from my position on the floor, I can't see the clock on the dresser, but I can't imagine there would be as much as another hour to go on the tape. I never expected to fill up the tape and make this adventure last the whole two hours, but Tina has certainly changed that. I'm sure Jeff will be pleased that he's getting more video of me than either of us had hoped for. So I resign myself to squirming in the bonds Tina places me in until the camera tells us that there's no more tape.

Didn't she say that Jeff will be able to see all she does with me tonight? So there really is hope that it will end before too long, because the video tape should be running out pretty soon.

Summoning a bit of strength, I wiggle against the tightness of the ropes for the camera's eye. But Tina surprises me as I face forward again and I jump back just a little as she reaches for the ring on the front of my collar with another piece of rope in her hand. She quickly ties it through the ring and, voila, I'm leashed. What next? She threads the rope leash through the bindings just above my knees. Now I'm really worried.

"Tina, please stop this. Please! You're only going to be in trouble when Jeff gets back."

She leans her face down to meet mine very closely. Her expression tells me she's perturbed. "Jules, you talk too much."

"Uh oh. Does that mean what I think it means?"

"If you think it means you're getting gagged again, you're right on, sweetie."

"Oh, please don't."

"Hey, that doesn't sound like a slave submitting to her mistress. You can do better than that. After all, I could gag you nice, or I could gag you nasty. Hmmm?"

Dropping my gaze, I submit as she desires me to. "I'm sorry, mistress. Please gag me if it's your desire to do so, mistress, but please be kind about it."

I lift my gaze to her again, my eyes soulful, to see her smiling at my contrite compliance. She reaches into Jeff's travel bag and pulls out the plastic bag with the gags. Her hand fishes around in the transparent bag until she finds a large, soft sponge ball. I open my mouth for her and she stuffs it in. Obediently I close my mouth, squeezing it in, and press my lips together. I'm not surprised to see her next find the roll of shiny black duct tape. She peels off a piece and places it over my closed lips, smoothing its ends over my cheeks. Another piece is then laid diagonally across my mouth and she smoothes one end up over my cheek bone and the other down beneath the curve of my jaw. A third piece matches this last one, crossing it to cover the other cheek. She backs off to survey her work.

"Very nice, Jules. It matches your black PVC outfit."

She doesn't have to remind me I'm wearing it. I've been sweating in it for a while and now I'm itching everywhere the black plastic lays against my skin, which fortunately isn't much. She steps behind me and smoothes her hands over the shiny material, making me itch just a little more. Her fingers follow where the slick black parts into two strips down either side of my abdomen and run between my legs to frame my naked sex. I suddenly realize she's humping her crotch against my shoulder as she slides her hands across the slick fetish lingerie. I flash angry eyes at her for just an instant as an exasperated grunt escapes my nostrils.

"Oh really!" she chides me. She reaches beneath my bound thighs and takes hold of the rope leash she had thread through my knee bindings. Pressing on my back as she pulls hard on the rope, she leans me forward and doesn't relent until I'm doubled over, my breasts pressing against my rope encased thighs and my chin just above my knees so my nose is to the floor.

With my bottom so well raised in the air, I'm worried she'll fetch one of Jeff's paddles, but she continues to thread the rope through my ankle bindings and knot it off. Next, I feel her threading the rope through my wrist bindings and pulling my hands down toward my feet which, of course, lowers my bottom, pressing my heels into my butt. She has very effectively tied me into a tight little ball. I squirm a bit and find I can only turn my head, wiggle my fingers and flex sideways at the waist in a provocative manner. Then she surprises me again by tying my big toes together and tethering them back up to my wrists, forcing me to keep pointing my feet straight like a ballerina. It's at this point that I realize that my pussy is on fire with fetish desire, the inner heat generated by the intensity of my bondage and my habitual love of the helplessness.

"Now where did I put that riding crop?"

My eyes go wide and I offer the first of a series of forlorn grunts against my gag. I turn my head and plead with my eyes. There's that tingle in my nose again; I'm going to start crying.

"I'll use it on you if you don't put on a show for the camera."

Put on a show? I can hardly move at all! What kind of show can I put on? Nevertheless, I start squirming against the tight ropes, amazed that a little bit of my strength has begun to return. Concentrating on my escape attempt, futile though it may be, I manage not to cry and my emotions start to settle down again. I imagine I must be a pretty sexy sight to the eye of anyone who loves to see a woman hopelessly trapped in bondage. With all the trouble this has become, Jeff had better like this.

Apparently satisfied with my efforts, Tina turns from me and hefts the travel bag up onto the mattress. Then she sets herself on the bed, crossing her long legs elegantly, and begins rummaging through the bondage toys that Jeff and I have collected over the years. As I squirm and struggle uselessly, I keep looking back up at her to see her examining some of the items of restraint. I strain a bit against the miles of rope that surround my limbs, chewing a little on the sponge ball that keeps me voiceless.

The ratcheting sound of the handcuffs grabs my attention and I look up to see her closing one around her left wrist. She tests how it would hold her, making sure she can't slip her hand back through. Then she looks into the plastic bag and smiles to herself at seeing her hand pulling out a leather plug gag, the plug closely resembling a penis. She looks down at me for a moment as she holds it up.

"I always hated the idea of putting a guy's pecker in my mouth. But one time while I was having a really good time with this kinky chick I used to date, she was wearing a strap-on and she made me blow her. It was really sexy and I sort of felt as though I was doing something really nasty that I should've been hating. It really turned me on before she screwed me silly with the thing."

Why is she telling me this?

"It looks just long enough to go into your throat. Does it?"

I nod. The truth is it just reaches deep enough to touch my uvula, making me have to constantly fight my natural gag response. Jeff usually only makes me wear it for punishment, calling it fellatio training.

"Hey," she reminds me, "aren't you supposed to be putting on a show for your master?"

I'd forgotten to keep squirming against the miles of tight rope, so I resume my fruitless efforts for the camera. But looking up again, I watch in amazement as she opens her mouth, inserts the phallic plug and buckles it tightly behind her neck so the black leather front panel flattens her lips against her teeth, sealing her mouth full with the plug. I forget my struggles for another moment as I watch her, but she glares at me and I remember to continue wiggling against the impossible amount of rope holding me prisoner.

When next I look up at her I'm astonished to see that she's tied a rope around her waist and threaded it beneath her to run down through her naked crotch, the leather miniskirt hiked up around her hips. A leather belt binds her ankles together and another pulls tightly upon her flesh just above her knees, binding her legs together as one. She fits the key into the handcuff and unlocks it for a moment, then closes it again about her slender wrist. I can't believe it as I watch her reach behind her, take hold of the rope through her crotch and tug at it. Once again I hear the ratchet of the handcuffs and I know that she has locked her hands behind her as she continues tugging on the rope to stimulate herself. She hoists her strapped legs up onto the bed and lays on her side, eyes closed, sucking on the deeply penetrating gag and yanking madly on the crotch rope.

I've totally forgotten to struggle against my bindings as I watch wide eyed, surprised and bewildered. Never would I or could I have predicted this from her, reveling in the antics one would expect of a submissive. She moans against the gag and writhes upon the bedspread, obviously enjoying the firm restraint of her bondage. Within a few minutes she has climaxed, her movements slowing to a relaxed, sensual little squirm as she heaves to catch her breath. Her eyes open again to smile at me over the tight black leather face panel of the gag. I'm absolutely astonished to have watched her do this, especially after she so soundly dominated me and climaxed from that.

Ah, but now she's in the same predicament I am. She's bound herself and there's no way I can help to free her. And she's likely to be stuck up there on the bed for fear of falling off, unless she can swing her bound feet over the side to put her high heels squarely on the floor But then she'd have to hop around on those dangerous stilettos, hoping not to lose her balance. A part of me wants to laugh at her foolishness.

But foolish she is not. She had kept the keys in her hand and, after a bit of fumbling struggle, she manages to fit the handcuff key into one manacle and unlock it. Pulling her hands in front of her again, she unlocks the other hand and then reaches behind her head to release the gag, sucking on the plug as it slides from her lips. She grins at me lasciviously, her tongue sliding along her upper teeth. Oh no, now what's she thinking?

It takes her no time to unbuckle the belts that pin her legs together. Then she does a curious thing, curious for a Domme, anyway. She pulls the crotch rope firmly up into her naked mons, tugging the hem of her leather skirt higher out of the way, and ties it tightly in back. She rubs the flesh on either side of her cleft pubis and keeps herself excited.

"Do you think Jeffie will enjoy seeing me bound and enjoying it to the point of cumming while you still struggle on the floor?"

The question must have been rhetorical as she doesn't wait for any kind of hampered answer from me. She rummages again through the travel bag for more goodies. She giggles as she pulls out the black leather mono-glove arm binder, hanging it before her gaze from one hand. From the look in her eye, she obviously appraises it highly.

She looks at me suddenly, the mischievous gleam brightening in her eye. "Oh wait! I remember where you once told me Jeff keeps the spreader bars!"

I pray she wants to try them on herself as she hurries to the closet to seek them out. But I'm worried as she lays a couple of them on the carpet beside me. She has selected the one that's about three feet long and the five foot bar as well, the longest one in Jeff's collection. I drop my forehead to the floor and snort my dismay through flaring nostrils. It's been a really long time since I haven't been happy to be kept in bondage. Okay, so my pussy is dripping again with desire, that doesn't mean I'm happy.

I feel her take hold of my bound hands, cupping them in hers, and I notice the tingle in my fingers.

"Your hands are cold and I don't like the color of them. I remember Jeffie telling me how he would watch out for this kind of thing. I guess I'll have to get some tips from him on how to tie you really well without strangling your extremities. Oh, don't worry, I'm planning to use leather gear on you next. I figure you'll appreciate that."

She's right about that. If I'm to remain bound, leather restraints would be preferable. These ropes have already begun to hurt, and my relief at this change in her actions is profound as she demonstrates that she knows a little something about watching out for my safety while I'm helpless. But suddenly there's a new pain as she starts spanking me. Wide eyed, I squirm as much as the tight ropes will allow, yelping and pleading through my nostrils. The bindings won't allow me any latitude to escape her stinging palm as she giggles delightfully in my helplessness at her playfully punishing hands. But the paddling doesn't last long and she's soon pulling at the knots to free me, reassuring me that she does indeed put my safety before her fun.

Within moments my toes are untied, my bound wrists are no longer connected to my ankles and the line is pulled free of my knee bindings, allowing me to rise up again in a kneel. My eyes convey my gratitude that she's setting me free and already a lot of pressure from the bindings has been relieved. She smiles sweetly in return and I clearly get the picture that my best bet is to submit to her as she desires, though I loath to do so.

She ties the end of the rope to the top of the high bedpost, pulling at my collar and forcing me up tall on my bound knees. Then she kneels behind me and starts picking at the knots and ropes that bind my arms. My head arches back to allow for the rope that tethers my collar up against my chin and I don't bother trying to look back over my shoulder as I feel the layers of rope begin to fall away from my arms. As the blanket of rope falls away one wrap after another, the air feels cool against my sweaty skin. At last the yards of smooth nylon line lay tangled on the carpet and I breathe a little easier for my measured liberty. I sigh heavily with relief as my wrists are finally freed, and I wiggle my fingers and flex my wrists to get the blood circulating again. But she gets up, leaving my elbows pinned together and I can't help but grunt in dismay as she comes around into view again.

"You like this, don't you, Jules?" she asks, holding up the black leather mono-glove arm binder.

Jeff paid a lot of money for this well crafted item, and we've certainly put it to good use. I've spent entire nights held captive in its cozy embrace and happily discovered it to be absolutely escape proof. It is undeniably pure heaven to be held in bondage while my Master takes his pleasure of my helpless body in whatever manner pleases him. But Tina is not my master.
Honestly answering her question, I nod as best I can with my head tilted back by the taut rope tether from my collar. I'm not happy that she's simply changing me from one form of bondage to another, but at least I'll be comfortably restrained in a binder I've grown to love. Things could be worse, I guess.

She disappears behind me again to kneel and fit my hands into the leather mitten end of the sleek single sleeve, and I don't fight her. She tugs on the laces, pulling the soft leather snug around my wrists and forearms, then knotting the lacing cords there. Only then does she untie and remove the rope from above my elbows and shoulders, tossing it aside. She smoothes the leather up over my arms to where it reaches just below my shoulders and again tugs on the lacing, drawing my arms inextricably toward each other. She pulls it just a little tighter than Jeff does, but the leather transfers the pressure evenly along my arms so it feels like a tight second skin. I only wish it were my Master binding me rather than my, shall I now consider her my former best friend?

Having tied off the laces so they won't come loose, she slips the shoulder straps up over my shoulders and buckles them snug so I have no possibility of wiggling out of the expensive restraint. I can barely wiggle my fingers within the snug mitten and the slight weight of the inch wide steel ring sewn into the end swings below my encased digits, eternally beyond my reach. Amazingly, I begin to act out of habit; I begin to lose myself in the tight feel of the supple leather and relax into a state of near bliss, lulled by the familiar captive comfort of the fetish garment.

I've always liked this arm binder, the way it hugs me, pinning my arms helplessly behind me as it fills the air with the fragrance of leather. The pungent scent of Tina's sex is still present within my nasal passages, yet the powerful aroma of the supple leather floods my senses and I discover my loins melting again with longing. Suddenly I startle myself out of my brief reverie. No, I can't build to another orgasm, yet I certainly don't want to be aroused with no reward of climax either. Oh, the madness of my predicament!

Tina is delighting in this madness. She runs her hands over my tight leather second skin, pressing herself against my bound arms, gripping my shoulders and pulling me back against her. A hand comes around in front of me and caresses a breast, then the other hand copies the first as her fingers coax arousal from my captive form. After a little breast massage to further charge my engines she tweaks and pinches my nipples, sending erotic sparks straight to my moistening mons. She reaches around and unties the rope from my collar and suddenly pulls me down on top of her as I topple back against her and we end up lying on the carpet together, her hands still fondling me, one of them reaching for my crotch.

I grunt in protest, but to no avail. She continues her lewd advances. Her fingers delve deep into my private cleft, rubbing enticingly on my swelling clit, and come away coated in the moist evidence of my growing, though unwanted, excitement.

"Ooooooo," she says, looking at her wet fingers. I can hear the taunting smile in her voice. "Looks like Jules is enjoying herself."

She lifts her fingers to my face and I quickly snap my head to the side, but not before she wipes a little of it against the underside of my nose, refreshing the scent of woman sex still trapped in my nostrils. Then she pulls her hand back behind my head and I can hear her sucking my juices from her fingers.

With a burst of adrenaline energy I buck free of her grasp and roll away to lay a couple feet to her side. I look at her with angry eyes. I don't want her making love to me again.

She laughs at me while still sucking on her fingers. Then she gets up, towering over me in her stilettos and reaches for the crop on the bed. Her skirt is still hiked high on her hips, held there by the tight crotch rope which is obviously soaking where it briefly disappears between her swollen labia.

"I want you on your feet, now," she commands as she looks down the length of the crop at me, its tip waving just inches from my nose.

She's got to be kidding. My legs are still mummified in tight wrappings of rope and my arms are sheathed behind me. But it's clear that she expects this to be no hindrance to my compliance. Fearing her lack of expertise with the riding crop and how she could really hurt me with it, I resolve to be obedient to the best of my ability.

Heaving a great sigh, more of a snort really, I roll onto my stomach, then curl up my bound legs beneath me, pulling myself toward a kneeling position with my head still on the floor. I discover that my strength is returning, but of course I'm still weary from my orgasmic over-workout.

Tina tosses the crop onto the bed and reaches down to grasp my shoulders as she did before. Heaving together, we find it easier this time to get me up on my knees. Now comes the hard part. I throw my weight backward, lifting my knees from the carpet. At the same time Tina pulls and lifts me up onto my toes. She keeps my balance for me as I rise to my feet and stand for her.

"What a good girl," she says. "I knew you could do it."

Actually I'm amazed that I did it. I'm amazed at how my strength is returning to my worn bones and muscles. My abdomen is sore, like I've been doing hundreds of sit-ups, and I want to baby that area, but my energy seems to be quickly rising back to a healthy level.

Once she's certain I've got my balance, she sweetly kisses the back of my neck and then starts pulling at the knots and ropes that capture my legs. As the wrappings of line fall away one by one, I feel life flowing back into these limbs and realize that they had been more tightly bound than I knew. It's somewhat invigorating to feel my legs become bare to the air again as the pressure of the tight wrappings disappears. She unties the bindings above and below my knees and I wiggle them back and forth, enjoying the freedom. Soon the ropes are loosening from my ankles and I find myself soon stepping out of a tangled mess of rope coils around my feet.

"Go ahead, flex your legs. Walk around a little bit."

I'm happy to comply with that one. Lifting each leg in turn, I stretch and flex, pulling each knee up toward my chest and then reaching it out, toes pointing before touching the floor again. It occurs to me that I'm unconsciously putting on a show for Jeff's video and I glance at the camera and almost smile beneath the layers of tape. Jeff always said he loved to see my eyes smiling above a good gag, but a true smile just isn't going to happen right now.

"Okay, that's enough." Tina is pointing at the floor where I was just laying bound in about a mile of rope. "Stand here, face the camera."

I step over to the spot and turn toward the camcorder, but I keep my eye on the woman who has become my mistress for the evening. She stands beside me as I take the position she demands, her left hand on the small of my back and her right at my abdomen to guide me to the precise spot she wants. She steps behind me and lets her hands slip to my sides, then she pulls me back against her. I feel her kiss my shoulder as her fingers glide up the black PVC to find their rest upon my bare breasts. She massages them firmly, her palms mashing and rubbing my nipples, which begin again to harden despite my desire that they don't. I'm ashamed to feel my crotch begin to tingle again at the touch of my old friend. I don't want to respond sexually to her, regardless of the fact that I already have.

Her left hand slips down to my groin as she pinches my right nipple and gnaws at the back of my neck through my hair. My libido is again switching to high, but I clamp my thighs together, not willing to admit her hand entry to my privates. Sorry, Tina, but that's Jeff's property, not yours.

Suddenly she's no longer touching me, and in the next instant I feel the crop bite wickedly into the soft flesh of my buttocks. Her stern voice reminds me, "You'll do as I say, Jules. I'm in charge and if I want you're legs spread, you'll spread them." She punctuates the demand with another stinging bite of the crop. She's swinging it really hard, with little regard for the safety of the skin on my poor fanny.

So I spread my feet about a foot apart and cringe, waiting for the next blow. She doesn't hit me, but reaches around me and taps my breast not so lightly with the nasty thing. I widen my stance a bit, then a bit more as she slaps it between my thighs. Finally my feet are at least 24 inches apart and I'm completely unable to hide my sopping vulva.

As I hear the crop land on the bed again, her hands grab my hips and I'm thrust back against her. Her right hand reaches between my spread thighs and her fingers slip easily between the folds of my pouting mons and I can't help but enjoy the feel of her fingers plunging into my slick vagina and sliding across my well lubricated clitoris. I hate myself for liking it.

"Tsk tsk, you're such a wanton bondage slut," she chides me. "You need to be controlled."

Yeah, well that's what I have my Master Jeff for.

"Sit down on the floor right here. It seems I need to rein you in a little better than you are at present."

Guessing she's going to change my bondage again, I heave a sigh and quickly check for a spot free of the discarded coils of rope. I glance over at the camcorder, figuring that there can't be much tape left to record on, but the little red light tells me it's still catching every detail of the things Tina is doing to me. I comply with her demand and get to my knees, finding it a bit awkward to turn and sit on the floor without my hands to help me.

"Yep, these look like the ones," she says as she pulls from the bag a couple of two inch wide black leather straps with chrome buckles and D rings.

Once I'm seated on the floor she motions for me to spread my legs and she tightly buckles a binding strap around each thigh just above the knee, positioning the D rings on the outsides of my legs. She's not going to bind me with my legs spread, is she? My fear is confirmed as she fits the three foot spreader bar behind my knees and attaches each strap to the ends of it. My legs won't spread wide enough to allow the bar to come up between my legs to the front of them, so it rests snugly against the backs of my thighs.

Above the shiny black duct tape that seals my mouth, my eyes look up to her, offering a pathetically sad and questioning smile, a wordless plea. She smiles back, leans down and kisses me on the forehead, then buckles leather cuffs around my ankles and fastens them to the ends of the longest spreader bar, separating my feet better than four feet apart as the ends of the five foot bar pull on the spring clips to my ankle cuffs, the bar resting just behind my ankles. She looks me over again, returns to rummaging through the travel bag, and then fits another belt around my chest and upper arms, above my breasts. Then yet another one wraps around my upper body and arms, this time below my breasts, and she pulls it very tight as she buckles it.
As my fetish leather bondage continues to swallow me whole in its inescapable captivity, my loins are once again stirring mightily. I try to ignore the growing desire, but my wanton vulva betrays me with its increasing moisture. My abdominal muscles ache badly, but my hormones don't care. I'm terribly aroused and getting hornier as she applies the growing number of leather bindings.

I grunt a bit as she pulls the straps tight so they sink just a bit into the flesh of my chest and pin my sheathed arms snug to my back. I'm not even bothering to whimper in dismay as she's threading a really short belt between my breasts to pull the longer straps into them from above and beneath.

Suddenly Tina pulls up from me and turns her attention to the far wall. She's drawn there by the same sound I heard. The camcorder has at last run out of tape and is starting to automatically rewind. Good! At last all this is over and I can rest after Tina unties me. But she turns back to me and pulls the buckle snug just as she had planned. I beg her with my eyes, whining into the sponge mouthful and the tape sealing my lips. She smiles wickedly at my attempts to invoke her mercy, then she presses my legs back and clips the ring at the center of the spreader bar to the ring on my collar. I'm trapped, doubled up, my gagged and frightened face framed by my bound legs and my private parts spread wide and shamelessly on display.
Ignoring my muted whimpers and pleading eyes, she steps over to the bed and again reaches into the paper bag. I don't see what she's gotten from it, but she then steps over me and walks to the camcorder. Looking it over quickly, she finds the right button and out pops the tape. To my horror, I watch her slide another tape into the camera, close it and turn it back on. The little red record light glares at me defiantly.

As the new tape begins recording, Tina looks into the lens and I'm alarmed by her words. "Hey Jeff, I've got a proposal for you. I sure hope you like the idea, 'cause I think we can make it work out so you and I both get a lot of what we're lookin' for. Here's my idea, tell me what you think. How about adopting me into you're little Master/slave family. I could dominate your little Jules here for your viewing pleasure and in return I'd let you do a little dominating on me. Maybe, from time to time, I could even bring home a couple of tasty young treats for us to bind and play with together. You tell me what you think when you get back from wherever it is you're at right now. Wisconsin is it? Oh yeah, the address is on the letter you wrote to your sweet slave. I'll be sure to mail these tapes to you tomorrow. Meantime, watch what I do next with your helpless Julie."

My mind reels with the incredible impossibilities that are suddenly becoming possible. Oh, but Jeff will surely decline Tina's proposal. Won't he? I catch a look at Tina approaching me with a huge, knobby, rubber dildo in one hand and a tube of lubricant in the other. The fake phallus is bigger than anything I've ever imagined. Suddenly an awful thought flashes into my mind; I realize that with Jeff watching all this, he might actually consider saying yes to Tina. Oh gawd.

A sudden burst of energy rushes into my limbs and I struggle against the bondage for all I'm worth. But my every effort is wasted, absorbed by the straps and bars that hold me helplessly open. Almost without warning I'm overcome by a uniquely intense orgasm, even before she touches me with her menacing toy. It's an amazing, spontaneous orgasm, flooding my being without provocation of being touched at all! Her fingers lube my spasming vulva, pushing me further into bliss. Then the monster rubber toy starts to spread me wide as she pushes it into my quivering opening. I buck and heave against the restraints, unable to stop cumming. The dildo is so big that I'm really tight around it and every little rubber knob feels like a fist pushing into me. I'm lost, no longer aware of Tina or the camcorder, just the toy, the bonds and my forced euphoria. Suddenly her lips are sucking my clit into her mouth and I nearly lose my mind, the mouth filling gag absorbing my scream. The bondage holds me completely at her mercy and time is suspended in endless nirvana as this mind numbing orgasm captures my every thought, erasing any concept of time and obliterating every negative emotional feeling I've been holding against her.

It feels like hours later, though it must be only a minute or two, unless she managed to prolong my pleasure like she did before, but I really don't know. The reality of the bedroom is coming back into focus. Tina is leaning over me, her hands fondling my breasts, her abdomen pushing against the base of the monster dildo which fills me more than I've ever been filled. She tenderly kisses my lips and I realize she has already peeled away the tape and pulled the sponge ball form my mouth. I don't even realize I'm panting and moaning until her mouth covers mine and my tongue acts of its own accord, seeking hers and kissing her passionately.

We kiss for minutes, my climax slowly waning. At last she pulls back a little and smiles down at me.

"So what do you think of my proposal to your Jeffie? Would you like to be my slave as well as his?"

I continue to pant, a little moan now and then escaping my throat.

She emphasizes her question to me. "I'm not sure I'll completely enjoy slaving for him, but I'm certainly ready to pay that price to have you. I love you, Jules. Please tell me what you really think."

I look her in the eye, struggling with my thoughts and feelings. "I, um, well... I've got to be honest with you, Tina. I'm surprised at myself, but I think I'd like that."

Her grin spreads from ear to ear. "Way cool. Now you'll have to beg your master for us. You'll do that, won't you?"

I nod. She plants her mouth on mine again.

It's 3:30 in the afternoon when I wake up and I can't remember how many video tapes Tina ran through the camcorder last night. One thing is for certain; my life as a bondage sex slave is forever changed. But that's the only thing that's certain because I think this is for the better, although I really can't be sure.