Let me introduce myself. My name is Anne, I'm in my early thirties, I'm blonde, blue eyed, 34C-26-36 – not too shabby, even if I say so myself. I live in a pretty cottage – the result of 10 years' hard graft in the computer industry and a messy divorce – in a small village right next to Salisbury Plain which, for those of you not from England, is a huge area of chalk downland owned by the Ministry of Defence and used about a third of the year for army manoeuvres and artillery firing. The rest of the time it's an enormous playground for the public.

When I was a kid, my heroes were strong women on TV and in comics who got into scrapes but usually got themselves out of trouble again – damsels in distress but with attitude. Charlie's Angles, The Avengers, Wonder Woman, even Lois Lane, although she tended to rely on Superman to save her, which was a bit pathetic. My favourite was the gorgeous Diana Rigg as Emma Peel in The Avengers, smart, sassy, sexy and feisty as hell, getting into trouble and being tied up, but escaping and getting the villains in the end. I was always playing the sexy super-spy in my fantasy games.

After suppressing any adventurous ideas in ten years of mundane marriage, when I got divorced I decided I would live out my fantasies to the full and the wide open spaces of the Plain were the perfect backdrop to my self-bondage games. I spent the boring journeys to and from work dreaming up wild ideas, then used the evenings to research and test out my bondage techniques and release mechanisms, building up to the weekend, when I put the whole thing into action !


Story 1 – A long walk to freedom

I head up to the Plain on Friday night around 9 pm after a lovely summer's day, the sun now below the horizon and the sky red. At the edge of the Plain is a dirt track, suitable for cars, bikes, horses, and I turn right, driving for about half a mile. The Plain is a mixture of open grassland, isolated bushes and wooded copses. The ground rolls along with occasionally quite deep valleys where streams cut into the chalk, and I stop at the bottom of one of the deepest. Alongside the dirt track I'm driving on runs another, much rougher track which is used by army vehicles such as tanks and half-tracks. This has been churned up and the whole thing is covered in a huge muddy puddle at the bottom of the valley which stretches about 20 or 30 yards along the track and even more spreading out onto the grass on either side.

I take the keys to my handcuffs, my first release mechanism, and lock them in a small metal box, then take aim and throw the box into the middle of the mini-lake. The box sinks quickly under the surface and, whatever else happens tonight, I know I have to get in there if I want those keys back !

I drive on a couple of miles until I reach a wooded area and I park up under the trees. I walk down into the woods maybe a quarter of a mile and find a fallen tree on the side of the path I have been following. I take my second release mechanism, a sharp knife, and stick it into the trunk, then I head back to the car, keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of anyone else out here in the dark, but all seems quiet.

Back at the car, I can now prepare myself. With my heart already pounding, I take off my trainers, pull my fleece over of my head and step out of my leggings, enjoying the cool night breeze on my now naked body. I fondle my nipples, which quickly become hard and erect, then touch myself between my legs, feeling how damp it already is down there. I open the car boot (trunk) and throw in my clothes before grabbing my bondage gear. First is my favourite gag, a large red ball which pushes behind my teeth, and is part of a head harness, so there are wide leather straps tight across my cheeks, under my chin, either side of my nose half covering my eyes and over my head. Next are the toys – a five inch butt plug and a seven inch vibrator, which I slide slowly into place. These are held by a crotch chain, padlocked tight around my waist and pulling the toys deeper inside me. The key to unlock that is in my house, so I'm stuck with those for a while. I put the vibrator on its lowest setting, to tease and torment me in the coming hours.

I sit on the edge of the car and tie my ankles together, wrapping the rope tightly around, then cinching before tying it off in a secure knot at the front. Another piece of rope just above the knees, tied the same way, finishes my legs. I attach my handcuffs to my left wrist, then flip my legs into the car and lie down. I reach up and pull down the boot, shutting myself in the pitch black, before putting my arms behind my back and closing the free cuff on my right wrist. I let out a loud moan of fear and excitement as I stretch and strain in my bonds, feeling the limits of my confinement.

My imagination kicks in. Here I am, bound and gagged, left to die by the gangsters I was investigating, who thought I was too close to the truth. They're pretty kinky gangsters, having stripped me naked and forced these things into me, and I imagine them holding me down and raping me in all my orifices, before tying me up and leaving me. But they're also pretty stupid gangsters, because they have locked me in my own car and I have planned for this very eventuality. One side of the back seat will fold down and I have fixed it so the latch doesn't close. All I have to do is wriggle into the correct position and squirm my way into the back of the car. Every move reminds me that I am impaled on two vicious dildos and I realise this isn't as easy as when I rehearsed in my garage, with clothes on, without the gag and the toys and, perhaps more importantly, without the rope around my knees. But I know I can do this, its just going to be harder and take longer, just as I hoped and expected. Pretty soon, there is drool on my chin, sweat under my armpits and love juices on my thighs; the harsh carpet is rubbing me raw but, inch by inch, I am making progress. I have to stop every few minutes to rest and to try and satisfy the frustrating stimulation the gently buzzing vibrator is giving me, but it is no use, I am never going to get off like this, I just have to struggle on. At last I have squirmed my way out of the boot and into the back seat. I manage to reach the door handle and the door flies open, as I am leaning against it. With a desperate muffled cry I fall backwards and land in a heap on the grass, now damp with dew. I pull my legs out of the car and kick the door shut. With some difficulty, I get myself up onto my feet. Stage 1 of my escape is complete; now for stage 2 !

This is where my little scenario breaks down – the gangsters wouldn't leave a knife randomly in the woods for me to find, or a key to my handcuffs in a puddle a couple of miles away, but what the hell, its my fantasy and I need a challenge. I start off on my journey by hopping over the grass towards where the knife is hidden. I manage to get maybe fifty yards before I land awkwardly, lose my balance and fall to the ground with a scream and a groan as the wind is driven out of me. I crawl to the nearest tree and shuffle myself up its trunk until I'm vertical again and carry on. I get only twenty yards this time before I fall and I can feel the bruises on my hips and shoulder already starting to ache. I decide to shuffle along on my bum for a while, which is a lot safer, but every move pushes the butt plug into me, bringing a pained whimper around the gag. I notice the cool night breeze has become a cold wind and it chills every part of my body which has been sweating, which turns out to be mostly everywhere – all over my face, particularly under the leather straps, which are now chafing, under and between my breasts, between my thighs. It feels cold and uncomfortable, but that's what I expected, right ? I soldier on through the woods.

Eventually I reach the fallen tree and I can see the knife. I can also see something I hadn't noticed before, which is that the trunk is surrounded by stinging nettles. I shuffle over to a tree and struggle to my feet so I can hop over to the knife – at least that way I only get stung on my feet and legs. I sit down on the trunk and pull the knife out, before hopping away from the nettles to a nice patch of grass. Here I lie down on my stomach and pull my legs up behind me, so I can start cutting through the rope on my ankles. My fingers are cold and I drop the knife a couple of times, having to scrabble around to pick it up and start again. As before, this is all a lot harder than my rehearsal, but finally the rope gives way and my ankles are free. The rope above my knees is awkward to reach but persistence pays off and I get my legs free. Stage 2 complete, just Stage 3 to go !

Now that my legs are free, I can move much easier and I can cover the ground much quicker. I'm about half way there when I hear the sound of an engine and I see headlights in the distance, coming my way ! I am about 100 yards from some woods behind me and the same distance from bushes in front, too far for me to run and hide before the car reaches me. I quickly decide my only option is to lie down flat in the grass and hope they don't see me. I am about twenty yards from the track and it is very dark and the grass is about a foot high, so I am pretty sure I will be okay, but my heart is pounding as I press myself flat against the ground and stare at the approaching lights. I am shaking violently, partly from the cold wet grass pressed against my body but mainly from uncontrollable excitement at the prospect of being discovered !

The car goes by without slowing and I relax a little. I imagine it is the gangsters coming back to check on me, or maybe to finish me off. What a shock they will get when they find I have escaped ! After the car has disappeared over the next rise, I head off in the other direction to my next test. As I come down the hill, the water below me glistens in the moonlight and I realise the puddle is more like a lake, stretching out on both sides further than I thought, and a feeling of trepidation creeps over me. I reach the edge and step gingerly into the cold water. My foot immediately sinks into the mud several inches and my concern rises. A few steps in and my feet are sunk in the mud and the water is already around my knees. A bit further and the mud is sucking at my shins, making it really difficult to get one foot in front of the next, and the water is now lapping around my pussy. By the time I reach the middle, which is where the box should be, the water is around my waist, although my feet are not sinking any deeper, for which I am grateful. But now I have to bend my legs so I can grope around in the mud to find the box, which brings the water up to my breasts, chilling me even more. Now I am shivering from the cold rather than any excitement. I grope around but find nothing. I realise this could take a minute or an hour, depending on how well I have remembered where I threw the box, and all the time I am vulnerable to discovery, only a few yards from the track and totally exposed.

And then, my worst fears are realised, I hear the car engine again, coming back ! Desperately, I try to run away from the track, but the mud sucks greedily at my feet, holding me back. Becoming ever more frantic, I splash through the water, but the mud clings to my foot and I fall headlong into the water, which closes over my head. Without the use of my arms to rescue me, I flounder, trying to get my feet onto firmer ground, while the murky water seeps into my mouth around the gag. At last I surface, coughing and spluttering, in time to see the headlights appear over the brow of the hill. Fighting to stay calm, I crouch in the water, just my head above the surface, until the car is nearly upon me. Then, taking a deep breath, I duck under and hold myself there as long as I can, until my lungs are bursting and I am forced back up. To my intense relief, I see the tail lights heading up the other side of the valley and then out of sight. Once more I am shaking violently, from both fear and cold, as I resume my search.

An hour later, I am freezing and frightened, having wallowed in the mud and had no luck at all. How stupid of me not to put some kind of float on the box, so I could see where it was. Or better still, toss it on the grass rather than in this mire ! I start to think about what to do if I can't find the key, what's my contingency plan ? Well, I have to get home to my second set of keys, but my house key is in the car and obviously I can't drive with my hands cuffed behind my back, so I have a two-mile hike back to the car, then a three mile hike to my house, the last mile of that on public roads and the final bit through the centre of the village while naked, gagged and in handcuffs. Not a pleasant prospect and I start to cry at my stupidity.

Another hour later, I am ready to give up and start my desperate trek, when my fingers touch something smooth, close around something square, and I bring to the surface – the box ! I scream in triumph and relief, before dragging my sorry ass out of that horrible water. I stagger the two miles back to the car, retrieve the key to the box and try with frozen, tired fingers to unlock it for a good fifteen minutes before succeeding. Finally I get the handcuffs off and – sweet relief ! – remove the ball gag from my aching jaws. As I switch on the engine and start to warm up, I see that it is now 3.30 am – I have been at this for six hours !

I don't bother putting my clothes back on, I'm too tired and just want to get back home, to a wonderful hot shower and a very well deserved orgasm, maybe two or three ! As I soak up the warmth and wash away the filth, I realise the difficulties of the night have made it, rather than ruined it. This has been my best self-bondage session ever !


Story 2 – Stakeout (added: 05/21/2010)

It is another summer's Friday night, about 11pm, a lovely warm evening. I am back on the Plain and ready to play. This scenario requires some setup, so while I am doing that, I decide to get in the mood. I strip off first, enjoying the kiss of the breeze on my naked body. My gag of choice tonight is a ring gag, which I strap into my mouth as tight as it can go. Next I insert my 10 inch vibrator with its little clit tickler into my already well-lubricated pussy, and the vibrating butt plug into my bum, all held in place by a good tight crotch rope. Then I padlock leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles.

Now I get the bondage gear out of the back of the car. I have two breeze blocks, which I haul down to a small clearing in the woods, before returning for the rest of my gear – ropes, stakes, mallet and a cool box full of ice. This mechanism is complex, so pay attention :-) I put one block down at the foot of a tree on the side of the clearing and tie a length of rope to it. The rope is threaded through a brass ring, tied to the tree trunk about three feet off the ground, and then through a metal hoop hammered into the ground. About two feet of rope extends from here to a brass ring tied to the end of the rope. I get a 1 kilo bag of ice from the cool box and tie a rope around the middle of it. The rope is now threaded through the brass ring and I tie another brass ring on the end of it. I hammer a stake into the ground in the middle of the clearing and then haul on the rope, raising the breeze block off the ground, until I can slip the final ring over the stake, holding everything in place, with the bag of ice straining to get through the middle ring but of course being far too big to get through – at the moment. I repeat the whole setup with the other block and a tree on the other side of the clearing. Now both rings are on the central stake and I tie a short piece of string between them, then remove the stake. The string is pulled taut by the weight of the breeze blocks but holds the rings a few inches apart. I place a knife between the rings. So far so good.

Next I bang in two stakes, about ten feet from the setup above and about six feet apart. I tie rope to each stake and I am now ready to get into the bondage. I sit down and spread my legs, tying the rope from each stake to an ankle cuff, holding my legs nice and wide. I lie down on the ground and check that I can reach the rings above my head – no problem. But before I get there, I need to do two more things. I have a small bottle of honey (I'll explain in a minute) and I squeeze it on my body, then smear it over my stomach, breasts and pussy, then wipe my hands across my face and lips – hmm, sweet ! I throw away the bottle and then tie a scarf tight across my eyes, blindfolding myself. I lie back down on the ground, reach down and turn on the vibrators, then reach up for the rings. Taking the padlocks I have brought, I thread one through the D ring on my right wrist cuff and the right ring, clicking it shut. I repeat on my left wrist and I am almost ready. I fumble around for the knife and place it against the string holding the rings together. My heart is pounding in my chest and I am already close to orgasm as I quickly saw through the string.

I let out a squeal of surprise and shock as my wrists are pulled violently apart. Instantly, I am spread out in a cross, with my arms and legs taking the strain. I tug frantically on the ropes and find that I can pull back my arms maybe two or three inches, before the weight of the blocks drags me back into my fully stretched position. As I twist and turn in my bonds, straining against their strict confinement, I am suddenly crying out and moaning as the orgasm hits me, sending waves of intense pleasure through my body for what seems like forever. At last the climax is spent and me with it – I lie on the ground motionless and my mind begins to drift.

Okay, here is the scenario. I am a super-spy, working to infiltrate a KGB sleeper cell when they discover me. I manage to take down four of them but eventually they overwhelm me and I am bound, gagged and dragged away for interrogation. They torture me for days but I won't crack. Now they try something different and I find myself staked out. The KGB section leader tells me they have staked me out over an anthill and smeared me with honey to attract the deadly fire ants, which will torment me with a thousand bites before their poisonous venom seeps into my bloodstream and kills me, maybe in two or three days. They leave me to my fate, laughing and joking as they disappear into the night.

I don't really have any idea what the honey smeared on my body will do. We don't have any deadly biting ants in England, which is good, but it may attract ants or other insects and I hate insects, the thought of them crawling on me is horrible, hence this rather bizarre torture I have set up for myself. The thought that they might even crawl into my mouth through the ring gag is hideous, but then that's why I chose the ring gag, to torment myself with the possibility. I also don't really have any idea how long these bags of ice will take to melt and therefore how long I am trapped here for. I did test this release mechanism in my garden, but not with me in it, and I got impatient and poured boiling water on the ice to speed things up and prove it worked. It took two kettles of boiling water, so I could be here for a while.

I let out a squeal as something lands on my face and sticks there. Then there's lots of other faint little touches, and as I start to panic I realise they must be midges, swarming above me and occasionally coming too close and getting trapped. I moan in fear and disgust as I feel several land on my sticky lips. I toss my head from side to side to try and get rid of them, but now they are on my body too, making me itchy as hell, and I squirm desperately but ineffectually in my bonds, pulling at the ropes on my wrists and ankles. The renewed attention on the bondage makes me get excited again and, with the vibrations in my ass and pussy driving me wild, I reach another crashing climax.

With the blindfold on, I cannot see how the melting is progressing, so have no idea when I will get free, and the time starts to drag. My pussy is aching from all the stimulation and my butt is hurting too, but the vibrators keep going and inexorably, unstoppably, I am forced to another orgasm and then another, until I lose track of how many or how often. Eventually, I fall into a semi-sleep.

When I wake, something has changed. I try to move but the ropes hold me as tight as ever. I realise the warmth of the evening has gone and there is a chill wind blowing ever stronger. I feel the first hint of moisture in the air and within seconds, the rain is hammering down in the way only a summer storm can. I am quickly drenched and I have to turn my head to try to avoid rain going directly into my mouth, but it is impossible, and I end up having to swallow it as it pools. This turns out to be a good thing as I realise just how thirsty I am and I turn my face up to the sky to catch as much as I can. I can feel the earth underneath me turning to mud and a shallow puddle starts to form around my body. But the rain has started to chill me and I find myself shivering uncontrollably. A sudden thought sends a pang of fear through me – could this rain slow or even stop the ice melting ? The temperature has dropped, but not that much, I tell myself, it won't make much difference. I pull on the ropes but there is no release there.

Gradually the rain stops and eventually the batteries in the vibrators run out, which is a sweet relief. Suddenly I feel something crawling onto my leg and then heading up my body. I scream and try to wriggle enough to shake it off, but it just scurries up my thigh and onto my stomach. I don't know what it is – it feels much bigger than an ant, and it moves horribly quickly as it heads back down my stomach and into my pubic hair. I am screaming hard now, not caring if anyone hears – in fact hoping someone does and comes to rescue me from this terror. The creature scurries up my stomach again and between my breasts, heading for my face, and my mouth. As it crawls onto my chin, I throw my head from side to side, while screaming, until saliva is being thrown from my open mouth. By the time I stop I am dizzy, but the six-legged monster has gone. As my heartrate slowly returns to normal, I doze off again.

I wake up at a sharp sound and reflexively pull on the ropes. There is a little give and I hear the sound again, recognising it as the ice bag starting to pull through the ring and the ice cracking. I tug frantically on the ropes, this way and that, trying to encourage it to melt faster. More noises and a little more give encourage me to keep trying, which I do for a good twenty minutes. And then – finally ! The ice has gone, the bag pulls through the ring and my right arm is free ! I pull off the blindfold and check my other wrist but there is some ice still left. I reach out and manage to pull the bag free and the rope comes away. Now I can remove the gag, untie my ankles, and move my aching body from its spread-eagle position. My arms, legs, back and jaw hurt like hell and I massage them to ease the pain. Then I pull the vibrators out of my body, which makes me much more comfortable.

After I pack up all my gear in the car, I see it is 4 am and I have spent 5 hours on this little adventure. A great success, but maybe a little too long !


Story 3 – Suspension (added: 05/21/2010)

After the success of my stakeout scenario, I have decided to try another challenging position – the suspension. It has moved into Autumn now, with the weather colder and more unpredictable, but I don't let that interfere with my Friday night timetable. I have my coolbox again, for the ice release, plus a stool, as well as my usual bondage gear. I strap in my new favourite gag, which has a wiffle ball – a hollow hard plastic ball about the size of a tennis ball with holes in it – which allows me to breathe, scream and drool like a mad thing, all favourites of mine. I have my vibrating butt plug and 10 inch vibrator firmly in place and I put cuffs on my wrists and ankles before I set off into the woods.

I find a nice little clearing far from prying eyes and set up. I tie a brass ring to a tree trunk, then a long piece of rope to a 1 kilo bag of ice, then thread the rope through the ring. I toss the rope over a convenient branch and place the stool under it. Standing on the stool, I tie a steel hook to the end of the rope, just where I can reach it. I swing on the rope experimentally and it holds my weight, the bag of ice straining against the brass ring. I drop to the ground and I'm almost ready. I padlock my wrist cuffs together and then clamber back up on the stool, before padlocking my ankles together. I switch on the vibrators and put my wrists over the hook above me. As usual my heart is pounding as I reach the point of no return. I check I have done everything I need to but still can't make myself take the final step.

I think of my scenario. I am a single woman living alone in my village, providing herbal remedies to poor people. But it is the middle ages, and the lord of the manor wants me for his concubine. When I refuse, he calls in the local priest and denounces me as a witch. The priest is old and corrupt, so with the appropriate bribe in place, he agrees I must be tested – by being hung from a tree for three days. If I live, then I have used my witch's powers to survive, if I die I am innocent. They rip off my clothes and drag me up to the Plain, suspend me from a tree and ... with my excitement at fever pitch, I close my eyes and kick back hard on the stool, sending it flying and me swinging from the rope. I let out a long loud moan of pain and excitement all rolled into one as I dance on the rope, squirming to try and get my wrists and arms more comfortable but also for the effect. The vibrator drives me on too, until I have the most incredible orgasm.

I have only been hanging for five minutes and already my shoulders are burning. I look at the ice bag and see a few drips. I have timed this properly this time and the ice should last an hour or less, but at the moment that is looking like an awfully long time.

I decide to distract myself by watching the scenery – unfortunately what I see are rain clouds heading my way. As I twist gently, first one way and then the other, the rain starts and soon it is whipping against my bare skin, as the wind starts to blow hard, as it can here. I look at the ice bag and will it to melt. My arms are screaming at me in pain now and even the vibrators can't distract me. I just want it to end.

When it does, it takes me by surprise as I fall to the ground, tumbling inelegantly and lying on the wet grass, moaning at the pain in my shoulders. I want to lie there forever, but it is still raining and I am just getting colder, so I struggle to my feet and hop and shuffle my way back to the car where I can unlock my wrists and ankles and warm up.

I have to admit, this scenario has been a bit of a failure – too long, too painful, not enough orgasms ! I don't think I'll be doing this one again for a while. Maybe if I could get spanked, or caned, or even whipped while hanging there ...


Story 4 – An unexpected development (added: 05/29/2010)

Stop the press, Dear reader, I have a boyfriend ! We met at the tennis club – how English middle class is that ? His name is David, he's a couple of years older than me, he's black, 6 foot two and has an impressively athletic body. He has his own business in commercial property, so he's not short of money either. But much more important, he's intelligent, witty and good fun to be with. We had our first date, kissed on our second date and ended up in bed together on our third date, which isn't too slutty in my book. And it turns out he is also a good and thoughtful lover. He spends plenty of time on foreplay, especially my breasts, which I love, and he is skilful and patient enough to make sure I cum every time he does, sometimes more !

We'd been going out for a month and he took me out for a meal, at which we had a lovely time but I may have drunk a little too much wine. He drove us back to my house and we were pulling off each other's clothes as we went inside. David pushed me down across the dining room table and smothered me in kisses, using his lips and tongue all over my body to drive me wild. I yanked his trousers down and pulled his erect member between my thighs and guided it into my hot pussy. I was glad the house was detached and away from the neighbours because I screamed and wailed like a banshee, quite unlike me. I sat up on the table and wrapped my legs around his waist. He picked me up and carried me, impaled on his cock, upstairs to bed, where he finished me off with some aggressive thrusts of his powerful hips. A few minutes later we were cuddled up under the covers and I drifted off to sleep in deep contentment.

When I woke up, my head was fuzzy, but I sensed something was wrong. The covers weren't on me and I could just make out David kneeling on the bed, looming over me. I went to prop myself up on my elbow, but I couldn't move my arm.

"David ? What's going on ?" I mumbled, still only half awake and half sober. I suddenly realised that my wrists had been tied together behind me and, even more astonishing, David was wrapping rope around my elbows.

"What the hell are you doing ?" I asked rather more loudly and firmly. He ignored what I said and started pulling on the rope, pulling my elbows closer together.

"David, stop it, I don't like you doing that" I said urgently.

"Really ?" he said, still pulling my elbows with the rope, until they were only a few inches apart, before starting to cinch and knot.

"Those stories of you prancing around in the nude and tying yourself up indicate the opposite" he said calmly. I gulped in embarrassment, realising he must have been on my computer and seen what I'd been posting to this website.

"They're just fantasies" I lied, "I would never actually do that stuff".

"Well, I would have thought that before I found all your bondage paraphernalia" he said calmly, holding up my ring gag in front of me. I had no answer to that and did nothing to stop him as he gently but firmly strapped it into my mouth.

He helped me up off the bed and led me downstairs to the kitchen. He pushed me up against the work surface and forced me to bend over until my breasts were squashed flat against the cold marble. I felt his hand roaming over my buttocks then across my hot wet lips as his fingers slid into my pussy and his thumb pressed against my sphincter and then pushed into my anus. I let out a loud moan of appreciation and I found myself drooling uncontrollably onto the surface below me. And then his fingers were replaced by his long, hard cock and I was in heaven. It was the first time I had ever had sex in bondage and my mind was blowing as he was sliding in and out of me like a well-oiled machine. Pretty soon I felt my orgasm building and I didn't hold back on expressing my feelings as my arousal level rose above and beyond the point where I could handle it and I came very noisily indeed.

As I was gasping for breath, David pulled me off the worktop and turned me around, squeezing my breasts deliciously hard and biting and sucking my nipples. Then he took me over to the table and made me clamber onto it and lie on my stomach. He stood in front of me and held my head as he slid his still erect member through the ring and into my mouth. I could smell and taste my own juice on it as I caressed it with my tongue, but I was loving every dirty little detail of this. I felt him push deeper and then the head of his cock touched my epiglottis and I gagged. He pulled back as I choked a bit, but then pushed deeper again. I gagged again and he withdrew, but when I had recovered he was back, pressing against the back of my throat. I knew he was trying to get me to deep throat him, but I had never done that in my life and it was a bit scary. However, he was persistent and on the third time I didn't gag and he slid out and then all the way in again. As a reflex I tried to swallow the saliva building up in my mouth but as I did he pushed forward and suddenly his cock was in my throat and I couldn't breathe ! It was only a few seconds before he pulled back and I sucked air in through flared nostrils, but then he was back. I swallowed again and he pushed his erection as far as he could into me, until his pubic hair was in my nose and his balls were pressing against my chin. He let out a strangled cry and pulled back as he came, his cum quickly filling my mouth to overflowing, dribbling down my chin. He pulled out of my mouth as another spasm jerked his cock and it spurted even more cum across my face. Another first for me, getting splashed in the face, and I was loving every minute of it.

David helped me down off the table, then removed the gag and wiped the cum off my face.

"Oh, that was incredible !" I purred, "I've never done anything like that before. Untie me and we can go upstairs and I'll really show you a good time".

"I'm sorry, I can't do that" he said, fiddling with something from a kitchen drawer.

"What do you mean ?" I said, "That was fantastic, but my arms are getting sore – its quite hard having my elbows tied like this, you know".

He reached forward and, as I just stood there dumbfounded, he put a long strip of sticking plaster over my mouth, gagging me again !

"I can't set you free, I'm afraid" he said in a steely tone, "You see, I know you've been investigating my white slavery racket and I can't take the risk that you could expose me and ruin what is a very lucrative business". As he explained this quite calmly, he picked up one of my lipsticks and started painting over my lips below the tape. Obviously, we were now into some role playing game, but I had no idea what he was up to or where this was going.

"There, that looks good – from a distance and in the dark, no-one will notice the gag". What was he on about ? Who was going to see me to not notice I was gagged ?? I mmmphed behind the tape and started to struggle uselessly against the ropes as it dawned on me that this was getting a bit weird. He took me upstairs and went to my underwear drawer, taking out my vibrator and butt plug as if he already knew they were there – which presumably he did, he must have been searching through my stuff. He made me stand with legs apart as he inserted them, gently but firmly, and then tied a crotch rope over them, far too proficiently for my liking – it occurred to me that he seemed very comfortable with ropes and gags. He made me put on the high heels I had been wearing earlier that night and then took me downstairs. He wrapped his coat around me, buttoning it up over my naked body and bound arms, then to my horror opened the front door and forced me to walk outside.

It was about 4 am and the street was deserted, but I felt incredibly vulnerable as he led me to his car and helped me into the passenger seat, fastening the seat belt across me. He drove off and after a few minutes I realised we were going towards Salisbury. Twenty minutes later we were driving into the outskirts and I was getting really nervous. We drove past early morning street cleaners and shop deliveries, the men oblivious of the gagged and bound, nearly naked woman a few feet away from them. As the car slowed and came to a stop in the main street of the town, my heart was racing – what the hell were we doing here ? David helped me out of the car and walked me into the main shopping area, in which a man was pushing a street sweeper noisily around. We stopped in front of a shop with its windows whitewashed over and a 'To Let' sign on it. David took out a bunch of keys and unlocked the door, then 'invited' me inside. I looked over at the street cleaner and saw him glance over at me, before continuing on his way.

The shop had been stripped inside, with just bare shelves left, and rubbish strewn around on the floor, the only light coming through the large picture windows from the street lighting outside. David unbuttoned the coat and took it off me and I was very conscious of the fact that he hadn't locked the door when we came in. He went into a back room and returned with a chair, made of tubular steel and leather back and seat, and placed it in front of the window.
"I need to arrange your disappearance, once and for all. A slow boat to Morocco, then a spell in my slave training camp, before being sold to the highest bidder. I normally deal in much younger girls – seventeen to twenty three – but I should be able to arrange something for a more mature slave like you. I'll sell you on your experience".

As he was saying this, he sat me down in the chair and firmly tied my ankles to the legs. Then he untied my arms and despite my best efforts to break free, tied my wrists securely to the arms of the chair. He took off his belt and strapped it around me, across my breasts, covering my nipples and squashing them against my body as it pinned me to the back of the chair. I struggled frantically against the bonds but there wasn't an inch of slack. He whipped the plaster off my face and I saw him taking my wiffle ball gag out of his pocket.

"You can't leave me here, David ! We're in the middle of the city ! Someone will see me, will –' My protests were cut off as he stuffed the ball into my mouth and strapped it in place.

"I think you'll be safe here, this whitewash is okay as long as someone doesn't press their face against the glass and peer in. I will pick you up tonight and whisk you away to your new life of slavery. Ironic, isn't it, that rather than end this trade you will become just another victim of it. Ironic too, I suppose, that someone whose ancestors suffered in the original slave trade now runs the biggest white slave operation in Europe. You can think about that while you wait for me to return". He turned to the door but then seemed to remember something and turned back. He reached down between my legs and turned both vibrators on full.

"This will keep you distracted while you wait". As he turned away, I cried out through the gag, begging him to let me go, but he walked out of the door and shut it behind him. I heard the key turn in the lock, then he came up close to the window, I saw him smile and wave, then he walked off !

I couldn't believe it – my perfect boyfriend had turned into a perverted sadist ! As I struggled desperately, twisting my wrists and legs, straining against the belt around me, I realised I was in a real life damsel in distress situation – naked, bound, gagged and about three feet away from where, in a few hours, hundreds if not thousands of people were going to be walking by, but this time there was no release mechanism, no guarantee that I would be able to get free at all. As these thoughts ran through my head and I twisted and squirmed in front of the glass, I became incredibly aroused and I was soon thrashing around in a frenzied climax, driven on by the vibrators but made so much more intense by the situation. It seemed to go on forever, until finally I slumped in the chair, exhausted, saliva drooling out of my mouth and running between my crushed breasts and down my body. I realised this was 1000 percent more arousing than my self-bondage sessions, but at the same time I was as scared as hell.

Nothing much changed over the next couple of hours as I struggled fruitlessly against my bondage, interspersed with breaks for a rest and to 'enjoy' another orgasm – funny how the novelty fades after the first five or so ! The street lights went off and the sun gradually brightened and flooded into the shop, making me feel even more exposed. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the first shadow of a person walking by fell across me. Gradually the number of people passing grew, as shop workers arrived, and then as the sun came up over the buildings opposite and streamed through the window, the first of the shoppers wandered by. I knew I had to control the amount of noise I was making, but with the vibrators still buzzing away, it was not easy to stop myself moaning as the arousal level went up yet again.

The street outside was quite busy now and I could see the shapes of lots of people going by. Suddenly, there was a bump on the window, making me jump, and I saw two youths, play-fighting and wrestling right in front of me, pressing themselves against the glass. It would only take one of them to look around, become curious about what was in the vacant shop, and I would be exposed. My heart was in my mouth, but after a couple of minutes, they ran off, and I finally breathed out.

This incident, and the now strong sunlight directly on me, had left me bathed in sweat. As I adjusted my position on the sticky seat, I felt the belt slide ever so slightly across my skin, moving up a fraction of an inch. It was the first movement I had felt and it gave me a desperate hope that I might just be able to get free. I began to work methodically, blind panic and frustration replaced by hope and a vague plan. I twisted my upper body from side to side and pushed my arms wide trying to get the belt to ride up my body and eventually over my head. Each twist moved the belt only a fraction of an inch and it was hard work. After half an hour I had moved the belt up by maybe half an inch. But it was progress and I kept going. Ever so slowly, the belt rode up my arms until, joy of joys, my nipples poked out from underneath it. Things got a little easier from there, as my breasts became free of the belt and reduced the tension on it. Suddenly it just rose up to my chest and moments later it was hanging loosely around my neck. I felt like crying with relief, but I was still a long way from freeing myself. I wriggled and ducked my head until the belt was up, over and on the floor behind me. Now I could lean forward. If I could remove the gag, I could work on the ropes on my wrists with my teeth. I leaned forward as far as I could and turned my head, but I couldn't get a grip on the buckle strap to undo it. More frustration ! In annoyance, I grabbed the strap next to my mouth and started trying to pull the whole thing away. The combination of desperate strength, the sweat on his face and the drool on my lips and chin resulted in the ball just starting to creep out of my mouth. Ignoring the pain of the hard plastic digging into my skin and bruising my lips, I pulled and pulled until the ball popped out of my mouth and scraped down my chin, until it finally came free and the gag hung loosely around my neck. Success !

Now I bent down and went to work with my teeth on the rope around my right wrist. The knots were awkwardly placed and well-tied, but I was determined and confident this time. As I worked away, I was relieved that the batteries in the vibrators finally ran out, giving me some respite. Meanwhile, the crowds outside my window continued to increase and get louder as Saturday lunchtime approached.

At last the final knot loosened and my arm was free. This time I did weep with relief as I quickly untied myself from the chair, then stood up and removed the dead vibrators. I moved to the back of the shop, away from prying eyes, and thought about my next step. I searched around the shop and in the back rooms for something I could wear and, stuffed down the back of a radiator, I found a crumpled and dirty white vest. I did my best to smooth it out and put it on. It reached down to cover my bum, just, and while the top was alarmingly low, it covered my nipples, so I was decent, but it clung to my body, outlining my buttocks and making my nipples poke through the material. It was also stained and there was a large hole over my right hip, but it would have to do. I put the belt on over the top, slipped on my high heels, straightened my hair as best I could and felt ready to go. But where ? I had no money for a taxi or bus and I was 15 miles from home, so what to do ? With a grim determination, I knew what to do – go and get that bastard David !

The back door of the shop was a fire escape, wired with an alarm. What if it was connected to the police station ? Well, I didn't care, I wasn't going to wait around for them and if they contacted David, he could explain why there were ropes and vibrators strewn around ! As I went out into the sunlight, it felt good to be free, but I was incredibly conscious that I looked – and smelled – like a cheap prostitute after a hard working night. I tried to look confident and ignore the disgusted looks I got from the good people of Salisbury, but I was slightly undermined by having to keep pulling on the hem of the vest to stop it riding up and exposing my bum and worse. There was a surreal moment when a Japanese tourist stopped me and asked me to take a picture of him and his girlfriend in front of the cathedral. When I handed his camera back he thanked me, but then dropped down on his haunches and took a photo of me, getting a great shot of my pussy underneath the vest. I staggered off, hugely embarrassed.

"What the FUCK do you think you were doing ?!" I screamed across the office at David as I stormed in. His assistant – Brenda I seemed to remember – looked up in surprise, looked me up and down with an appraising eye, and then looked down at her work with a smirk. David smiled and stood up to meet me.

"Ah, Anne, so glad you could make it, come into the office". He ushered me into a back room and shut the door. I turned to berate him, give him a piece of my mind, but he pressed his lips against mine and our tongues met. I felt his hands on my buttocks, then he pulled the straps of the vest off my shoulders, exposing my breasts.

"God, you look sexy !" he breathed as he cupped my breast and bent to suck the nipple.

"You bastard !" I gasped, "You left me, tied up and naked, in front of all those people !"

"Must have driven you wild" he said as his hand slipped under the vest and fingered my dripping wet cunt.

"That's not the point !" I moaned as he unzipped his trousers and released his rampant erection.

"Sorry, what is the point ?" I couldn't answer as he had picked me up and impaled me on his beautiful cock, and whatever I had been thinking went out of my mind. I didn't hold back as he fucked me hard, thinking how much Brenda would be enjoying the show next door.

When we had finished and I had straightened my clothes as best I could, David drove me home and left me to clean myself up while he retrieved my toys from the shop. I ran myself a bath and lay there all afternoon, pleasuring myself as I replayed my incredible, unbelievable, unbeatable adventure !


Story 5 – M Appeal (added: 06/16/2010)

I couldn't believe it. It had been three weeks since he had tied me up and given me my best ever adventure, yet David had not mentioned it since ! Admittedly, I had told him how annoyed I was and how it had threatened our whole relationship, but even I didn't think I was very convincing. He gave the impression he didn't mind one way or the other, whereas I thought about that night and day all the time, it dominated my waking dreams.

I knew I had to bring it up myself. So I just told him how hot I found the idea of being kidnapped, raped, maybe even tortured, and having to escape from peril.

"Of course you do" he said smugly, "I knew that as soon as I read your stories. You're not really a submissive, but you want someone else to take control. You're not really a masochist but you want to be made to suffer. I get it. I'll organise something to satisfy you and let you know". And with that, we dropped the subject and had mad, passionate sex.

The next day I found a typed note on my doormat –

"Mrs Peel

If you want to expose the white slavery ring, come to the following address at midnight on Friday. Do not mention this to your partner, Steed.

A wellwisher"

I immediately became almost uncontrollably excited – this was clearly from David and it was an invitation to a game. The idea of playing my idol, Emma Peel of The Avengers, was inspirational and I immediately started thinking of my costume. Obviously it had to be a catsuit, although I wasn't sure they still made them. I typed it into Google and was overwhelmed with pictures, mainly from porn sites and fetishwear specialist catalogues – a sea of leather, rubber, latex and PVC. I got really quite excited at the thought of me wearing something like that. I had a meeting in London the next day and resolved to go around the sex shops and fetish boutiques in Soho.

I had a great time, nervously going into sex shops and startling all the guys in their dirty raincoats. I started to enjoy myself, unbuttoning my blouse until I had a good deep cleavage with my bra on show, bending over until my stocking tops were visible, picking up dildos and playing with them. I even bought a few things – a gimp mask, a new pair of handcuffs and a ridiculously big butt plug. Then I went into a clothes shop with all sorts of sexy stuff in the window and tried on every different style of catsuit they had. In the end I chose a black latex number – I loved the way it felt, clinging to me and squeezing me like a second skin, and the way it looked, so shiny and showing every bump and blemish on my body. I bought the spray and cloth they recommended to make it all shiny and went on my way. I had one more stop – at a replica gun shop, where I got myself a silver revolver like the one I remember Emma using.

"How do you fancy a drink tomorrow night, maybe go to a club ?" David asked on Thursday night. Oh, so you want to play it like that, do you, I thought.

"Sorry, I need to wash my hair" I said, smiling sweetly.

"Yeah ? Maybe I should do that too"

"Oh yes", I said, "Nothing worse than dirty hair".

When I started getting ready the next night I realised I couldn't wear anything under the suit, it would ruin the line. I also realised that the was a danger that I would get my pubic hair caught in the zip, which went from the small of my back to my neck. So, for the first time in my life, I shaved myself bare, which just made me feel even more of a porn star !

Having showered, shaved and powdered myself, I squeezed myself into the tight latex and put on my black pixie boots with the three inch spike heels, which matched the suit well – though maybe a little impractical for super-sleuthing, I didn't care. I then spent nearly an hour shining myself up, until I could actually see my own face reflected on my stomach ! Incredibly erotic, too, rubbing the latex was like fondling my own body, a real turn on. I strapped my holster to my thigh, finished my wine and was ready to rock and roll.

The address I'd been given was for a five storey office in a business park, so it was deserted at midnight on a Friday. I parked out of sight and sneaked around to the corner, pressed against the wall and gun at the ready, like a good spy should. I went around the back, as no-one would go through the front door, and was rewarded when I found a window left a fraction open. I pulled it up and hoisted myself through the gap, dropping to the floor with cat-like grace. I went down the corridor stealthily, trying each door but finding each one locked, until I cam to the final door, which yielded as I gently turned the handle. I pushed the door open just a crack, seeing that it was pitch black inside, and slid through the gap. As I reached the light switch, suddenly there was an arm around me, pinning my arms against my sides and then a cloth clamped over my mouth. I just had time to think 'My God, I'm being chloroformed, how authentic is that !' before I lost consciousness.

As I woke up, the first thing I knew was that I was hanging by my wrists. As I looked down, I could see that my legs were spread wide, shackled to either end of a long spreader bar. As I looked up, I saw my wrists were locked in leather cuffs attached to silver chains hanging from the ceiling. I stood on my feet to take the strain off my arms and could feel the hamstrings in my thighs being stretched by having my feet so far apart – this was a challenging stress position. I was in what looked like a boiler room and it was swelteringly hot – not great when you're dressed heads to foot in black latex, I was already itching beneath the rubber.

"Mrs Peel, so good of you to drop in !" David appeared from behind me, dressed in black leather pants, no shirt, a black hood, with studded leather collar and cuffs – every inch the executioner. At least I assumed it was him – it could have been another well-built 6ft 2in black guy !

"I'm guessing I'm not going to hear anything useful about the white slavery ring".

"Sadly no. So nice of you not to let anyone else know you were coming here".

"A girl has to have her little secrets".

"Quite so. I'm sure you're wondering why I have brought you here"

"Not really, no. But I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway"

"Don't annoy me, Mrs. Peel, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry"

"Whereas at the moment I really appreciate how friendly you have been" He came up to me, putting his masked face just an inch from mine. I felt him take my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger as it strained against the latex and squeezed it until I screwed my face up in pain. Then he stepped back.

"Two years ago, my brother and I devised a plan to return democracy to this country"

"By hypnotising the prime minister and making him declare you president, as I recall" I extemporised wildly.

"Bravo, Mrs Peel, you remember it well"

"I never forget a lunatic, even in a hood".

"We were sent to prison. I coped, but my brother couldn't handle it and hanged himself. You killed him, Mrs Peel"

"And now you're back for revenge ? How trite !"

"I intend to make you suffer, Mrs Peel, the way you made me and my brother suffer"

"So, you are going to kill me"

"Nothing so crass, or quick and painless, I'm afraid. Pain, shame and humiliation, that's what I intend to deliver, until you will wish you were dead. Let's get started, shall we ?"

"Don't rush on my behalf" I said nervously as he walked out of view behind me. When he re-appeared my sense of fear and excitement increased, as he was carrying a flogger, with many leather thongs on it. I felt my stomach turn and I started gasping for breath.

"No clever quip, Mrs Peel ? Or do you wish to beg for mercy ?" I couldn't believe this – the last time I had been struck, it was a slap across the face by my husband, and had led to our divorce; now I was about to let my boyfriend whip me ! I was sure he wouldn't do it if I asked him not to, but I was totally turned on at that moment and wanted desperately to find out what it would feel like.

"I could say 'do your worst', but I think you might anyway" was as witty as I could manage. He walked around behind me and my feeling of panic rose. I heard the swish of the thongs through the air a second before they hit me across the buttocks and I yelped at the sudden rush of pain. I had hoped the latex would reduce the effect of the flogger but it still hurt like hell. Before I had quite assimilated the first blow, another one hit me, the flogger going back the other way. David started into a rhythm, swinging the flogger backwards and forwards and whipping me up my back to my shoulders and then down to my thighs. I was crying at the pain now, tears starting down my face, when it suddenly stopped. I was gulping down air and still twisting from side to side to avoid the blows I was still expecting to rain down on me.

"Anything amusing to say now ? I will put you out of your misery if you ask me"

"Fuck off and die !" I gasped – very amusing. A moment later I was screaming as the flogger lashed down across my breasts, again and again, then my hips were whipped. I strained against my bonds and the chains above me rattled as I fought vainly to avoid the pain. He paused again and I bent forward, cringing as the whip marks flared and then became a dull ache. Despite the beating, I was more turned on than ever, my pussy was dripping underneath the rubber and was desperately crying out for some extra stimulation, which David now provided by aiming the flogger upwards, between my splayed thighs, the thongs whipping up and directly onto my tingling cunt. I was screaming again but this was in ecstasy as I came hard to a mind-numbing orgasm. I hung limply from the chains, my head drooping, and David stopped the flogging.

I felt my arms released from the chains, which was a sweet relief from the ache of being stretched overhead for so long. But in seconds they were behind my back and attached once again to the chains, which pulled my arms up until they were almost vertical behind me and I was forced to double over, thrusting my bum in the air.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to lose your bon mots for a while, Mrs Peel" he said as he forced the ring gag into my mouth. It was part of a head harness, which he strapped as tight as he could under my chin and across my face. I felt him tying a rope to the D ring at the top of the harness and then my head was pulled back as he tied the rope to my wrists. I was staring straight ahead now and could not look down as he unzipped the top of my catsuit and pulled it apart, exposing my breasts. I let out a yelp as I felt something bite into my nipple and then a moan of protest as the same happened to my other nipple, both clamped. There must have been a chain between the clamps because I felt a weight pulling both nipples away from me, making the clamps bite deeper into my tender flesh. Another weight must have been attached, because the dragging down became worse and the bite of the clamps became more intense. I let out a howl as a third weight was added, tormenting my nipples unbearably.

I felt David behind me, unzipping my suit from the other end, from the small of my back, between my legs to my stomach, exposing my buttocks and wet pussy. There was a squirt and cold gel between my buttocks, being massaged in and worked into my anus. I moaned again, this time in fear and anticipation – I had never taken it up the ass and clearly that was what was coming next. He pressed the head of his cock against my sphincter and opened it gradually, until he could force his shaft into me as I cried out in discomfort and shock. He thrust it deeper, stretching me until it seemed I would split, thrusting in and out with a grunt. I could feel his cock inside me and somehow I was so horny it was turning me on, even though a few hours ago I would have been appalled and disgusted at the idea. He really hammered into me and I fully expected him to cum inside me, but he pulled out and I wondered what he was doing. I saw him appear at my side and he was wiping his erection with a cloth. As he came around in front of me, I realised he was going to put it in my mouth and, as he got close to me I could smell my shit on him. Seconds later I could taste it too as he shoved it through the ring and immediately forced me to take him into my throat. I should have been sick but instead I was sucking and licking his shaft as it pulled out and slid back in to my mouth. I could taste his cum as he got close to orgasm, but then he pulled away, leaving me only with a mixture of his sperm and my saliva dribbling down my chin. But I was ecstatic when I felt him ram his erection hard into my eager pussy and he brought me to my own orgasm in just a few powerful strokes. As the climax ran through my body, he made me cry out as he forced his way back into my anus and finally I felt his cock twitching as he finally came. He splashed his seed all over my buttocks, before walking back around and pushing it back in my mouth to be cleaned up. I eagerly licked and slurped at it, trying to bring it back to its full glory but feeling it shrink even as I continued to work on it. But he kept it there and, after a few minutes, I felt it growing fatter, longer, firmer again, filling my mouth and pushing against the back of my throat. He drew back, until it was entirely out of me, joined only by a thick string of drool, then pushed it back in until his body was pressed against my face and the head of his cock in my throat, then he withdrew again and suddenly he was spurting his load into my face, through the ring into my mouth, and I was covered in his sticky, salty cum, in my hair, in my eyes, over my cheeks. I licked around the ring of the gag to try and gather in every last drop !

It was a glorious relief when David united my arms and removed the spreader bar. As I lay on the floor and rubbed some life back into my aching limbs, I wondered for a few minutes whether I was to be released, but, when he determined I had had long enough to 'relax', David pulled my arms behind my back and bound my wrists one again. He also tied my ankles and legs, above and below the knee, the bright white rope contrasting beautifully as it squeezed the shiny black latex. He spread my buttocks and I felt a fat, long dildo forced into my still well-lubricated pussy until I was filled. He tied a rope loosely around my neck, then ran it down my body, between my breasts, under the chain between the clamps still biting achingly into my tortured nipples, between my legs, over the rope holing my wrists and down to my ankles, pulled up until my knees formed a right angle.

"I will provide you with a means of escape, Mrs Peel, if you have the strength and resourcefulness to exploit it. I will leave a knife for you, on the top floor of the building – if you can reach it and free yourself before I get back, you live to fight another day. If not, well, I'm afraid your crime-fighting days will be at an end. Good luck !" With that, he kissed me on my sticky lips, still stretched around the ring gag, and went up the stone stairs, switching out the light but leaving the door to the boiler room open. I was so exhausted, any thought of escape had to be put on hold as I lay on the floor and dozed off.

When I awoke, the challenges of my current position and the bondage I had been left in became clear. The rope between my neck and my ankles, via my wrists, prevented me from straightening out – if my upper body was erect, my legs were pulled up behind me, if my legs were straight, I was forced to bend forward. Also, the rope was not the smooth white rope used on my wrists and ankles, but a coarse hemp. With my catsuit still unzipped between my legs, every time I moved the rope dragged between my pussy lips and across my clitoris, as well as forcing the enormous dildo even deeper inside me – it was painful and stimulating at the same time. But I had no choice, I had to try to get myself free, its what this was all about, after all. I shuffled across the floor, my discomfort worsened by the swinging weights hanging from my nipples, which were tweaked and stretched painfully with every movement. As I got myself onto the bottom step of the concrete stairs, I let out a gasp of pain as I sat on the dildo and it drove even further into me. Each step was a torment as I shuffled up one at a time.

I won't bore you with the saga of my long and uncomfortable journey up five flights of stairs on what I hoped was not a wild goose chase to find a knife to cut myself free. I could see that it was well into Saturday as sunlight streamed in to the stairwell as I climbed slowly up. When I reached the top floor, I crawled along the corridor and then pushed myself through the doors to the main office space. I was dismayed to find that it was fully furnished – a sea of desks which blocked my view and gave me no idea where the knife I was looking for might be. I had no choice but to crawl up and down the floor, looking behind and under every desk. It felt like hours went by – and it may have been hours – as I searched in vain. At last, when I was pretty sure I'd covered every inch of that floor and I was hot, sweaty, sore and tired, I gave up, lying exhausted as I despaired of ever getting free. Eventually, I thought – maybe the knife is on one of the desks. Dragging myself to the nearest desk, I squirmed and twisted my body against the desk until I had got myself upright, wincing as the hemp rope rubbed across my poor clitoris again. I could see the desk I was at, and could see no knife, but the rope prevented me from straightening up and scanning across the room. In an inspired moment, I shuffled on my heels towards the nearby office chair and threw myself into it, skittering helplessly across the carpet as the wheels spun me away and around, threatening to tip me out. But it stopped and I got control, now able to scoot around the office by pushing myself backwards. At last I found the desk I was looking for, one with a knife with keen-looking, serrated edge. I parked the chair against the desk, struggled to my feet and struggled to reach the knife. Once I had it, I first hacked through the hemp rope and was relieved when it broke and I was able to stand up straight. I tried to cut through the rope around my wrists but couldn't get any purchase, so instead lay on the floor and slowly cut through the ropes on my ankles and then my legs. Able to stand and manoeuvre myself, I looked for a way to get my wrists free. I managed to jam the knife in a desk drawer and then drag the ropes back and forth across the blade. It was a slow process and I had to keep putting the knife back in the drawer, but eventually I was free. I gratefully removed the gag and head harness, then, gritting my teeth against the inevitable pain, eased the clamps off my nipples. It turned out to be even worse than I expected, as blood flooded back into the pinched area and I howled like a dog until the feeling finally eased to a throbbing ache. I also pulled the dildo out of my pussy and marvelled at its size.

I went to the nearest toilets and splashed water on my face before drinking long and deeply. I washed all the filth of the previous night off my face, chest and from between my buttocks, finally starting to feel clean and refreshed. As I came out, I realised the afternoon was already waning and I needed to get out of there. I headed down to the ground floor, but as I went around the building, I found every window and door locked, even the fire escape doors had been chained and padlocked – I was trapped. I considered throwing a chair through a window and escaping that way, but I thought there might be consequences in the real world beyond our little fantasy game. So, in the context of the game, I had to think of another plan.

I went back to the top floor and gathered up the ropes and toys, put the knife back where I found it. David would head up here first to see if I'd escaped and, if he thought I hadn't he would head back down to the boiler room and I might just have the element of surprise. I hunted through all the desks, on this one and the next one down, for something to give me an edge. Eventually, I found a long thin black cord and realised this was my best option. It was getting dark and I hurried down to the basement, where I set my trap. I then lay on the ground to arrange the ropes across my body, to make it look like I was still tied up. I put the gag back in my mouth and realised, rather unhappily, I would have to put the clamps back on my nipples if I was to look like I had not escaped. I let out a scream as the metal bit down on my still-tender skin. I lay down to wait for David to return.

I was startled out of a doze by the sound of a door slamming. I checked my setup and put my arms behind my back, then imagined him going upstairs, looking around, coming back down and – there he was, at the top of the stairs, still dressed in the leather trousers but with a shirt and no hood this time. He was carrying the flogger in one hand, clearly ready to meat out more punishment, and my silver revolver in the other, in case he me any resistance.

"I'm disappointed, Mrs. Peel, I thought you would have made more effort" he said as he walked down the stairs. I let out a moan, to try and keep him looking at me and not in front of himself. As he got to the bottom step, his foot caught on the rope stretched across the stair and pitched forward. I was up before he had even hit the ground and as the gun spilled from his hand I dived to grab it and turned to train it on him. I got carefully to my feet and removed the gag, then the clamps, grimacing once again. I waved the barrel of the gun, motioning for him to get up and raise his hands. I looked down at his trousers and saw the impressive bulge there.

"Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me ?" I quipped.

"Er, just happy to see you ?"

"Let's see. Take your clothes off !" He slowly stripped off, and I admired his naked body as I usually did.

"You're very happy to see me, aren't you ?" I ordered him to lay on his stomach and put his hands behind his back, then I carefully slipped the noose I had prepared around his wrists, before tying them more securely. I tied rope around his elbows and pulled them together, ignoring his grunts of protest. I strapped the spreader bar to his ankles and then forced the ring gag into his mouth, fastening the head harness down tight.

"On your feet !" i barked, and he struggled up. I put down the gun and picked up the flogger.

"How about a taste of your own medicine ? Or would you like to beg for mercy ?"

He stood strong and silent, but he looked nervous.

"No, its okay, that's my fantasy, not yours" I said with a smile, dropping the flogger and going up to him to put my hands on his chest.

"Still, we can still take advantage of this situation" I pushed him down to his knees and then lay him down on his back. kneeling across his face, I pushed my hot little pussy into his face.

"Lick me out good, or I might reconsider that whipping" He went at it with gusto, pushing his tongue up through the ring gag and digging deep into me as I ground my hips down on him. I turned around so that I could get hold of his cock while he licked away, quickly bringing him to maximum stiffness. I bent down and licked along the shaft like a big lollipop, then closed my lips around the bare head of it and let it slide into my mouth. I straightened up as his tongue brought me to the edge of orgasm and I bounced up and down, making his tongue penetrate me. I came to a screaming climax and squirted my juices into my mouth and face, before dragging myself off and repositioning myself so I could take his erection right up inside me and ride him to another orgasm. I carried on riding until I knew he was about to climax, then got off and finished him off by hand, watching as his cum spurted out over his stomach. With an evil grin, I scooped it up and wiped it across his face, getting as much of it in his mouth as possible.
"There you are, a taste of your own medicine !" I laughed.

After that I relented and untied him. I thanked him for what had been a fabulous adventure and we went home for a well-deserved shower and some great post-bondage sex.