Part 1

I decided to write this story to tell how two entirely separate interests – my love of bondage and my boyfriend's love of women in uniforms – combined to form something much more powerful and exciting than the constituent parts.

My name is Gayle Travers and I'm a red-headed Welsh woman. In this country, that is a dictionary definition of 'feisty' – or, as we say here, stroppy bitch with attitude. When I was growing up, all my heroes were feisty women – on TV, in films, in books, in comics – and they were strong, assertive and independent, right up to the point where they were caught by the baddies (usually men) and tied up. In some cases, they escaped on their own but in most cases they had to be rescued by the hero. So when I was a kid, I always wanted to play with the boys and get tied up. If I managed to escape, that was great, I'd basically won my battle against the baddies. If I didn't manage to escape, that was great too, as I had to suffer whatever punishment or torture they chose, whether it was tickling, being left tied up for hours or, on one memorable occasion, being lightly spanked.

Once puberty hit, everything got more complicated. I went from a flat-chested tomboy to wearing a D-cup bra, and given I was only five foot six, that was pretty dramatic. I still wanted to be tied up, and was more than happy if a boy wanted to take advantage of me in such a helpless state. But the problem I found was that boys were either weirded out by the idea of bondage, didn't have a clue how to give me what I wanted from the situation or were far too keen to tie me up and do what they wanted, rather than give a damn about what I might like. This last situation occasionally led to some pretty good sessions, but I was worried I'd end up being tied up by a psycho who got off by watching me die – not my idea of fun at all.

By the time I was at university and met Steve, I was pretty wary and didn't volunteer information on my passion for bondage. It wasn't until one drunken evening that I told him of my particular kink. Next morning, I was worried that I'd blown it, but he was ultra cool, he wasn't over-excited about it but interested, and he did exactly the right thing – he asked me all about what I got out of a good bondage session and made sure I got it. Our sex lives became much more exciting – I got tied up exactly how I liked it and he got as much sex as he wanted.

But he didn't tell me about his own interests, no matter how many times I asked or promised to make his dreams come true, whatever they were. I'm no psychologist and I'm not going to bore you with my pet theories, but he's a pretty closed guy. The truth came out entirely accidentally, when we were invited to a fancy dress party.

I decided to go as a policewoman. I started off with the basics of any good fancy dress costume – sexy underwear, stockings and suspenders, and high heels. On top of this I wore a crisp white cotton blouse and black wrap-around miniskirt. I accessorised with stuff I got from the toy shop – a policewoman's hat, black and white checked scarf, police badge on the breast pocket, and a belt from which hung a rubber truncheon and handcuffs – metal but with safety catch releases.

When I opened the door to let Steve in, I laughed out loud – he had, quite independently, decided to dress as a robber – stripy T-shirt, mask, black gloves and trousers, and a bag marked 'swag' on his back. He also had a utility belt a bit like mine, with a torch and a coil of rope on it.

"Wow, you look incredible !" he said as he stood there, gawping at me.

"You'd better be careful tonight, sonny, or I'll be taking you into custody" I said, twirling the cuffs around in front of him.

We went off to the party and he was incredibly attentive, all over me like a rash, grabbing my arse in the slow dances. It was a bit embarrassing, and I suggested we leave early, thinking we might get a bit frisky back at my place.

I was a little the worse for drink and was leaning heavily on Steve as, with arms around each other, we crossed the park near my lodgings. I don't know if I slipped or was pushed, but I found myself on the grass under the trees, with Steve kneeling beside me. He grabbed the cuffs from my belt and suddenly my arms were behind my back and locked together. He turned me over and, to my surprise, grabbed my blouse and ripped it open, sending buttons flying in every direction. My bra followed, the straps pulled off my shoulders and the whole thing dragged down to my waist. He took the coil of rope from his belt and wound it around my body, pinning my arms to my sides and criss-crossing it between my breasts, while I looked around nervously to see if anyone was watching.

"This constitutes assaulting a police officer, mister !" I protested with mock seriousness. "You'll be going down for a long time for this".

"You're going to be the one going down" he said as he dragged me roughly to my knees. He unzipped his pants and his erect cock sprang out in my face. He grabbed my hair, knocking off my hat, and pushed his shaft into my mouth harder and deeper than he had ever done before. He was like a man possessed, thrusting in and out, pulling my head forward and back, ignoring the gagging and choking noises I was making. I was just fighting for air at this stage and wondering what had got into my normally kind and considerate boyfriend. I didn't have long to think about this as he came to a pitch of excitement, grunting and groaning as he approached his climax. He had never cum in my mouth before, and for all my experience no-one else had either, but that taboo was well and truly broken. There was so much of it, it was dribbling down my chin and onto my breasts, then he pulled his cock out of my mouth and spurted even more of it across my face ! I thought about spitting it out, but instead I swallowed it, finding the taste not too repulsive. Steve took the scarf which was still around my neck and used it to wipe his gunk off my face, but just when I thought this was nice thoughtful boyfriend back, he crammed the scarf, with its sticky coating, between my lips and into my cheeks till I looked like a well-fed hamster. He took off his belt and wrapped it around my face, covering my mouth so I couldn't expel the gag.

He helped me to my feet, then dragged me deeper into the trees, well away from any prying eyes. There, he forced me down over a fallen tree trunk and, pulling my skirt up around my waist, yanked down my panties and thrust his fingers into my already dripping pussy.

"You'd better brace yourself, copper" he growled in my ear, "Here I come". And he did, banging his stiff cock into me hard and fast, right up to the hilt, making me gasp in surprise and some discomfort. But I was soon enjoying being fucked hard and rough, as much as he was evidently enjoying himself. I reached orgasm just as he shot his load and, once again uncharacteristically for him, he pulled out and fired his cum across my bare buttocks. He was obviously in a dirty mood, and I was not complaining !

He turned me over and I saw him take another length of rope from his 'swag' bag – I like a man who's prepared ! He tied my body against the fallen tree, pulling the ropes viciously tight, just the way I like them, leaving me completely helpless and at his mercy. He got yet another rope and tied my legs wide apart, so I was wide open for anything he wanted to do to me, and he started off by sucking on my nipples, which drives me wild at any time, let alone when I'm trussed up. I felt his hands roaming over my nearly naked body and then his fingers were inside me, working on me, rubbing on my swollen clitoris until I was crying out into the gag. I saw that he too was getting interested again, as he massaged his semi-erect cock with his other hand. I moaned and whined to a second orgasm, then he came across my breasts, before finally sagging exhausted next to me.

He untied me and removed the gag, before straightening my clothes as best he could, but he kept my wrists cuffed behind my back as he led me the short distance back to my digs. I was really excited about being in bondage in public and I felt my heart racing as a group of men approached us walking in the opposite direction down the street. Steve held me close to conceal the handcuffs then leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"Don't make a sound, copper, or you're dead" I saw the guys staring at my unbuttoned blouse with my bra and cleavage on show and there was some whispering and laughter, but they didn't stop us.

Luckily none of my housemates were around when we got in and we went straight up to my room, where Steve tied me to the bed, gagged me and made me cum over and over again, using his fingers, tongue, lips, eventually his cock when it recovered, even the rubber truncheon.

I was very embarrassed the next morning as I sat around the breakfast table with my housemates sniggering and asking if I was alright, as I'd made so much noise in the night. I'm sure they knew I was gagged, but I just found the idea of them listening to me a huge turn-on.

I had lots of questions for Steve – was he just turned on by police uniform, or was it the authority figure being toppled which turned him on, or would any uniform do ? When did he first find out about this, did he have some childhood trauma ? But he couldn't or wouldn't answer any of them and I was left frustrated and guessing.

So I decided to experiment. If the police woman was an authority figure, the least authoritarian uniform I could think of was a school uniform. I told Steve I would be at his door on Friday night, when he had told me that the house would be empty, dressed as a school girl and he could do whatever he wanted – if he didn't find it sexy, we would try something else.

While I was getting ready, I received the following text message:

"safe wrd is GOOGOO – can b undrstd w or w/o gag. use it if u need 2 steve xxx"

This started me thinking that tonight might be rather more interesting than I had expected. How right I was !

I wore the same miniskirt and blouse as before, with buttons sown back on, but I accessorised with plain white underwear, glasses, a school tie, white knee socks and plain black shoes. I did my hair in bunches and wore no make-up, except for fake freckles on my cheeks.

"Ah, Gayle, thank you for coming to see me. Come in, please" Steve said with a serious face as he opened the door. I went in and followed his lead to the dining room, sitting when he motioned towards a high-backed dining chair.

"Gayle" Steve said gravely as he paced in front of me, "Your disciplinary record at school is terrible – fighting with other girls, smoking, drinking, arguing with teachers, talking in class – and detention has had no impact on you. That is why I have sought and gained your parents' permission for drastic action. I have also had to obtain special permissions from the school governors and the local education board for the ... innovative approach I have proposed". This sounded quite promising.

"Sir, I –", I began, but he interrupted.

"Silence ! One of your major problems is that your mouth gets you into trouble. That is why I must deprive you of your voice" Before I could react, he had forced a rubber ball the size of a tennis ball into my mouth. As I struggled to stop him (sort of), I realised the ball had been strung on a chain and he had quickly and efficiently locked it behind my head with a small padlock. I pulled at it, but the chain was tight across my cheeks and the ball was jammed deep into my mouth so I couldn't remove it. I looked up at Steve in mock outrage, bafflement and fear, 'mmmmphing' furiously at him.

"That's much better. Now I am going to give you some time to think about your behaviour, with no distractions". Suddenly I felt a rope around my body, just below my breasts, pinning me to the chair back and my arms to my sides. As I struggled to get free, the rope was wrapped around me three times before being tied off behind me. Steve grabbed my wrist and tied it down by my hip, to the back of the chair, again wrapping the rope around three times. He did the same to my other wrist and I was now unable to do much other than kick my legs and complain incoherently into the gag. Soon he had me even more restricted as he tied my ankles to the legs of the chair and then my legs, just below the knee, to the chair leg, just below the seat. He gradually, calmly and carefully added more rope across the tops of my thighs and across my chest above the breasts, so I couldn't move from the seat or the back of the chair, each rope wrapped three times and tied as tight as he could manage. All I could do now was move my head and wiggle my fingers, but he had more rope to add. He joined the ropes across my chest with one between my breasts, pulling the ropes together and tightening them even more, until it was becoming difficult to draw breath. He did the same on either side of my breasts as well, so that the ropes were now squeezing my breasts in a vice-like grip. Another length rope was passed around my waist, three times as before and tied tight so my stomach was pressed in, restricting my breathing a little more. I had never experienced bondage as thorough and as tight as this before and it was such a turn-on it was a little frightening. None of my clothes had been much disturbed by all this, apart from my skirt riding up my thighs rather a long way, and there was no way I was going to have sex whilst tied up like this, but I was wet with excitement, which I hoped Steve might notice and attempt to satisfy at some point.

I was taken by surprise when the chair was tipped backwards and dragged across the floor out into the hall. Steve opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs and, to my consternation, manoeuvred the chair and me into the dark recess alongside the vacuum cleaner and assorted boxes of stuff being stored.

"Now, I'm going to leave you here to think about how you've behaved and the effect it is having, not only on your school work, but on your classmates, the teachers and your parents. I will check on you later to see if your attitude has changed". He took a scarf from his pocket and, as I struggled against my bonds, he tied the scarf across my eyes, blindfolding me. I heard the door in front of me close and I knew I was now alone, and locked in the dark for who knew how long. A few minutes later, I heard the front door slam and the house was silent – I was truly alone ! I struggled against the ropes, but this only confirmed how tightly I was bound, and fuelled both my excitement and my frustration at being unable to do anything about it. This was turning into a very memorable session for me.

It must have been a couple of hours later when I heard the front door open, followed by voices right outside the cupboard. Steve and his housemates had come in, and it sounded like they had been to the pub. My heart raced as I listened to them laughing and talking only a few feet from me ! The noise faded a little then I heard the TV and worked out they had gone into the lounge. About half an hour later, I was suddenly jolted out of a doze by the sound of the door in front of me opening ! After a tension-raising delay, I felt a hand on my breast, fondling and squeezing it, and I guessed it was Steve – anyone else would surely have said something. The other hand grabbed my other breast and I could feel my nipples hardening and poking through the material of my bra and blouse. One of the hands skimmed down across my stomach and I felt fingers rubbing against the wet material of my panties, making me moan quietly into the gag.

"Hey Steve what're you doing in the cupboard ?" a voice called out.

"Oh, just trying to find something" Steve said in front of me. The hands withdrew and the door was closed, leaving me with my heart pounding and my frustration level sky high. The noise from the lounge continued for about another hour before everyone must have decided to go to bed and the house became quiet. Clearly I was not to be released tonight – the prospect of remaining bound and gagged all night while three strangers slept upstairs was thrilling, but eventually I dozed off.

I woke in the night when I felt hands on my face. After a moment's blind panic I realised the gag chain was being unlocked and the ball pulled from my mouth. I had not realised how painfully stiff my jaw was until then as I tried to work some life back into it. I felt a plastic nozzle put between my lips and water squirted into my mouth, which I gulped thirstily. I tried to drink it all but my jaw was so stiff and the flow so strong I felt it spilling down my chin and wetting the front of my blouse.

"So Gayle" Steve said, "Has your experience this evening taught you anything ?"

"Fuck you, 'Sir'", I spat back at him, "You're a fucking paedophile and I'm gonna get the police onto you, and the newspapers, and – mmmmph !" My stream of invective was cut short by the ball being forced back into my mouth.

"Clearly not" Steve said dryly, "Let's see how you feel in the morning". The lock was snapped shut and then the door in front of me closed – for better or worse, I had talked myself into being in bondage and imprisoned for the night. I wondered how it would feel.

I dozed uncomfortably in the chair, but was woken some time later by hands on my breasts, rubbing, kneading, squeezing. I felt my skirt pulled up to the ropes around my waist and fingers rubbing the front of my panties, then working their way down inside and seeking out my clitoris. I wanted to open my legs and offer my eager pussy up to my 'mystery assailant' (I knew it was Steve, but was having another little fantasy) but the ropes across my thighs and around my stomach prevented me from moving an inch, all I could do was whimper and whine in response to his arousing but ultimately unfulfilling touch. I could feel myself getting very wet down there and, right at that moment, I wanted him to untie me and give me a good seeing-to, but I detected no move in that direction. I could hear Steve's faint grunts and groans as he fingered me, and I had a suspicion that he was actually masturbating in front of me. That suspicion was confirmed when I felt hot, sticky gunk sprayed across my face and hair. A few seconds later, I heard a zip being pulled up and then the door closed, and I was alone again, wondering exactly how I had let myself get into this situation. I marvelled that, only a couple of weeks ago, I had thought that Steve was sweet and kind to the point of being a bit boring. I had certainly unleashed his inner tiger, it was now a matter of whether I could keep up with him. I drifted back into my doze, with vivid images of what I would look like to any of Steve's housemates if they happened to look in here.

I awoke in the morning to the sounds of the boys getting up, having breakfast and watching TV. But the overpowering sensation I had was of the need to pee. My bladder was full and squeezed painfully by the ropes holding me. I wanted to cross my legs or squirm in my seat, but both were impossible, all I could do was clench my pelvic floor muscles and try to keep it in until Steve released me. As thirty minutes became an hour, I went from pain to agony and, with no hint that the housemates would go out and Steve would come, I knew I couldn't hold out. With a deep sense of shame, I relaxed my muscles and felt my crotch instantly become wet. The pee just kept on coming, once I'd started I couldn't stop, and I was soon sitting in a warm puddle which was bounded by my thighs on either side and was soaking my panties and skirt, before dripping off the front of the seat. The smell in such a confined space was horrendous as well, and I started to panic that someone would detect it in the hall outside and investigate its origin.

Eventually I heard the front door open and close, as the others left to do whatever they did on a Saturday morning. The door in front of me opened and I felt the blindfold removed, making me squint against the bright light from the hall.

"Well, Gayle, have you learned your lesson ?" Steve said, standing over me. I nodded my head, deciding I had spent enough time in this cupboard. To my great relief, Steve started to untie me, which took a while. As my arms and legs were freed, I tried to rub some life back into them. I noticed he made no move to unlock the gag.

"I hope you have learned that yours is not the only voice anyone wants to hear" Steve lectured as untied the ropes around my body, "And I hope you have learned that you must do as you are told. Let's get you cleaned up". He helped me up and led me upstairs and into the bathroom.

"Take off those wet things" he ordered. When I hesitated, he said "Do you want to spend another day on the chair ?" I unclipped my skirt and dropped it on the floor, then stepped out of my panties. He held out a plastic bag and I put the soiled clothes in it. I needed a shower, but instead he offered me a wet face cloth and told me to wipe myself clean. I wet the cloth and wiped the dried lumps of cum off my face and tried to tease them out of my hair, then rinsed it and wiped the pee from my legs and around my pussy and buttocks. I was very conscious of Steve watching closely as I did this intimate toilet, and felt very self-conscious, which was a bit weird for someone who was happy for her boyfriend to tie her up all night.

When I was done, he led me into his bedroom and ordered me to stand up against the foot of the bed, facing it. He had a nice brass-frame bed, so I was standing with the brass rail against my hips.

"Bend over" he ordered. I wanted to ask him what he was going to do, but of course I couldn't, I was still gagged. It could be a little light spanking but for some reason I doubted it. Nervously, I bent over the rail until my upper body was parallel to the bed and my blouse had ridden up to leave my bare bottom completely exposed. Steve came over and took hold of my left arm and pulled it towards the edge of the bed, before uncovering a length of chain which had been locked to the bottom of the bed frame and concealed under the duvet. He wrapped the chain around my wrist and locked it in place, then went to my other side and repeated the action on my right wrist, so that I was now bent over with my arms held out to either side of me, such that I couldn't straighten up. I felt Steve grab my left leg and pull it towards the corner of the bed, before chaining it in place, then moving to my right leg and locking it so my legs were wide apart and I was held draped over the bed frame, unable to get up. I looked around nervously to see what he was going to do next.

"Corporal punishment is an established method of discouraging bad behaviour and encouraging good behaviour, and I will be using it to try to modify your behaviour, Gayle". I looked at him with growing trepidation and saw him pick up a three inch-wide black leather belt and carefully wrap the buckle end of it around his hand, leaving plenty of leather swinging ominously. I suddenly felt very scared and, at that moment, I remembered the 'safe word' message. I realised I could avoid what threatened to be a painful thrashing, as I watched Steve move around behind me and felt him push the bottom of my blouse away from my bare buttocks. Just one word ...

I'm still not sure why I didn't use it. I had no desire at all to be hurt, I knew I would get no sexual pleasure from it, I'm not a masochist. But two things stopped me speaking – I knew that Steve must, at some level, want to do this and somehow I didn't want to disappoint him; the other, much stronger, reason was that in terms of the bondage game I was playing in my head, this was the consequence of being tied up and not escaping before the 'baddy' returns to have his wicked way with me – using a safe word would be 'cheating'. So, instead of using my get-out, I begged for mercy, staying in character as the naughty schoolgirl who finally sees the consequences of her bad behaviour.

"No ! Please ! Sir !" I cried through the gag, the words coming out mangled but just about understandable.

"I'm sorry, Gayle", Steve said as he raised the belt, "It's too late for that". At that moment he brought his arm down and my world was full of exploding stars, I screamed in pain as I felt the edges of the belt dig into the soft flesh of my buttocks. I was pulling at the chains holding my wrists and ankles in a desperate attempt to escape as he raised his hand again and the leather belt slapped loudly against my skin, bringing another anguished howl from my stuffed mouth. The third blow brought the first tears springing from my eyes, and by the time he had hit me a fourth time, my face was wet with tears, as well as saliva forced around the ball gag and drooling down my chin, and mucus blown from my nose and running onto my top lip. My arse cheeks were on fire by now, striped with marks where the edges of the belt had raised ugly welts. I had stopped trying to look at him to plead for mercy with my eyes, now I had screwed my eyes shut and was praying for the punishment to stop. My eyes shot open and another scream rent the air as I felt the leather cut across my buttocks again. I dropped my head, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to come to terms with a level of pain above and beyond anything I'd ever felt before, then crying in agony as he lashed me once more.

"Six of the best" Steve said calmly, "I think that is enough – for now". I felt something cool and soothing on the burning skin of my bottom and saw that Steve had applied a wet facecloth to the tortured area. As he gently dabbed at the livid marks, he bent over and I felt him kiss my buttock along the stripes I was sure must be now glowing. Gradually the kisses became a little firmer and I felt his tongue licking me across the most bruised areas. Bizarrely, I was suddenly becoming aroused, and when I felt his tongue slide between my thighs and onto my swollen pussy, I was shocked by my strong reaction. The pent-up frustration of the past twelve hours or so meant that, only minutes after crying my eyes out at being beaten, I was now panting like a bitch in heat and thrusting myself backwards into Steve's face, hoping to force his tongue a little deeper. I was rewarded by the feel of my clitoris being uncovered and nibbled by soft lips. As his tongue slid onto it and started to lick all around it, I felt the frustration of the last few hours suddenly released and I quickly reached a stunning climax, which literally took my breath away.

As I gasped for breath I heard the front door slam shut, followed by footsteps on the stairs and a voice just outside the bedroom door.

"Hey Steve, you ready to go to football ?" I heard.

"Just give me a few minutes" Steve called back, "I'll see you downstairs". As he said this, I felt his hard shaft thrust into me and I let out an involuntary gasp, which must have been heard outside the door. Steve pounded into me, making the bed frame creak and bringing moans and then cries from me as I climaxed again, long before he came himself. I was sure anyone downstairs would have heard the whole thing. As I lay draped over the bed frame, exhausted, Steve leaned in close and said quietly:

"I'm going out now, do you have anything you want to say to me ?" It was another opportunity to use the safe word and escape further punishment, but I found I could still not bring myself to use it. I lifted my head wearily from the bed and, looking pleadingly in the eyes, incoherently mumbled around the ball in my mouth, spittle bubbling around it and running down my chin as I begged him to let me go. Seeing that I was not going to give in, he smiled and kissed me on the nose, before grabbing his coat and leaving, shutting the door behind him. I slumped back over the brass rail, suddenly feeling the cramp in my thighs and forearms. What was wrong with me, I thought, why had I let myself be left in this uncomfortable situation for several more hours ? Of course, I knew the answer – I was a sick freak who liked to be bound (or in this case, chained) and gagged.

When Steve finally returned, hours later, having played a full game, had a shower and several pints with the lads in the bar, every muscle in my body was crying out for release. But as he unchained me and massaged life back into my aching limbs, my mind was already working on the next adventure we would have together.


Part 2 (added: 03/21/2011)

One of the girls I shared with was in the Officer Training Corps, and she agreed to let me borrow her army fatigues, so I sent a text message to Steve:

"Lance Cpl Travers ready to report for action Friday". And I quickly got the reply:

"Report my quarters 2300 for night manoeuvres". So the game was on.

I turned up in camouflage jacket and trousers, beret and big shiny boots and snapped off a crisp salute as Steve opened the door. He was in a peaked cap, green jersey with official officers' pips on the shoulders and khaki trousers, with brown leather gloves and an officer's stick tucked under his arm. I was impressed.

"Lance Corporal Travers reporting for duty, Sir !" I barked, rather hoping no-one inside was listening.

"Very good, Travers, follow me" Steve said and walked past me. I turned and followed him to the fairly dilapidated old car he ran as a poor student and got in next to him. He drove in silence out into some woods fairly near where he lived and parked up under the trees. I got out when ordered and stood to attention while he walked around me, inspecting me. It was a moonless night, so very dark under the trees, and there was a chill in the air which I tried to ignore.

"Tonight's exercise is a test of your ability to resist interrogation, Travers, so I will not be pleasant, do you understand ?" "Yes, sir !" I responded.

"Right, let's get started. You have been captured by the enemy – I'll be playing the part of your captor and interrogator. The object of the exercise is for me to get you to tell me the secret password, by any means at my disposal, your job, obviously, is to not give anything away". I guessed that by secret password he meant the safe word we had agreed.

"Firstly, remove your uniform and stow it in the car. At the double !"

I quickly stripped off my fatigues, boots and socks, before returning to stand to attention in front of him. I was now wearing only a green vest with the word "ARMY" stretched across my chest and tight white panties. I could feel the cool night air playing across the large expanses of bare flesh now on show and my nipples were, appropriately enough, standing to attention through the thin material of the vest. Steve walked around behind me and suddenly I was plunged into darkness as a cloth bag was pulled over my head and draw strings pulled tight around my throat. Before I had time to react to this, my jaws were being forced apart and a hard rubber ball forced into my mouth, pulling the cloth tight across my face as it was buckled behind my head.

"Put your hands behind your head, prisoner !" Steve shouted in my ear. As I did so, I felt him grab my wrists and cross them, before wrapping a plastic cable tie around them and pulling it tight. When he let me go, I realised the cable tie must have been looped through a D ring on the gag strap, because my arms were now pinned behind my head.

"Now we march to the interrogation centre" I heard Steve say, then I felt him push me in the back, making me stagger forward, down the track we were on. He pushed me and shouted at me, forcing me to go faster, despite the fact that I couldn't see where I was going and was frightened of falling. I felt branches brushing against my face and body and every twig or stone in the path dug into my bare feet as I stumbled along in total darkness. A couple of times I nearly fell, but I managed to get my balance back. Steve's commands became more urgent and I suddenly felt something, I guessed his officer's stick, wallop me across the buttocks, driving me on. After a while I felt my feet squelch into mud as the track widened out and, by the feel of the breeze on my skin, I guessed we had emerged from the woods into a more open space.

"Get down and crawl" Steve ordered and he pushed me down onto my knees on the muddy path. As I hesitated, I felt the sole of his boot against my back and with a hefty shove he forced me down so I was lying face down, propped up on my elbows. Another push from the boot encouraged me to start crawling forward through the mud, which was already sticking to my knees and elbows.

"Get your arse down !" Steve shouted, and I felt the stick deliver another stinging blow across the buttocks, making me drop my hips until my stomach was pressed against the ground. I crawled as fast and as low as I could, slithering along like a snake, while the insults and painful swipes of the stick rained down. A few yards further on, I found myself splashing through several inches of muddy water, soaking my vest and pants and making them cling to my body. After about fifteen minutes, my arms and legs were aching from the effort and the thin plastic strap was cutting painfully into my wrists, so I was glad when I was allowed to struggle back to my feet and stagger on. After a few more minutes, I felt concrete under my feet and I was pushed through a door into some kind of building – we had apparently arrived at the 'interrogation centre'.

I stood there for several minutes, dripping and shivering in the cold, while I heard Steve moving around me. Suddenly the plastic tie on my wrists was cut and I was able to move my arms, allowing me to massage some feeling back into them. But almost immediately I felt my left arm grabbed and hoisted above my head. A noose was slipped around my wrist and tightened, holding my arm up. This was repeated on my other arm and I was once again helpless. I felt my foot pulled out to one side and tied in place, quickly followed by my other leg, so I was now stretched out in a star, unable to put my heels down on the concrete.

I felt the gag strap loosened and moments later I was squinting in the dim light while exercising my stiff jaw. I was in a large barn, with straw piled up at one end, and I was tied to a wooden frame at the other end. The only light was coming from a torch, which Steve now pointed in my face, temporarily blinding me.

"Are you ready to talk ?" he demanded, grabbing me by the hair and pulling my head back.

"Name, rank and serial number, nothing more" I said, sounding more confident then I felt. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I found it stuffed again and the gag strap being buckled tight. But this was a different gag, it had a hard plastic ball, hollow and full of holes, and within seconds it was full of my saliva. Steve let me go and turned away, putting the torch down on the floor. As he turned back to face me, I saw he was holding a knife and my eyes opened wide in horror as he laid the blade against my cheek.

"Sure you don't want to talk ?" I held my breath, not daring to move and I realised that, despite the cold, I was suddenly sweating. He grabbed my vest and with a quick downward movement, slashed it open from neckline to waist. Pushing the ruined material to one side, he grabbed my breast and squeezed it hard, making me cry out in pain. As I looked down, a long string of saliva drooled out from the gag and slid down my chest, between my breasts. He cut through the shoulder straps of the vest, pulling it away and throwing it on the floor, then smeared the saliva oozing down my body across my nipples, rubbing and tweaking them until they were standing out firm and proud. As I began to moan softly under his expert touch, he leaned in and took a nipple between his lips, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. He repeated this on the other nipple, all the time fondling and squeezing my breasts, driving me wild. I felt his hand slide down across my stomach and into my panties, which were now damp with my juices, as well as the muddy water they had soaked up. I pushed my crotch forward and let out an animal grunt as his fingers opened me up and started toying with my engorged clitoris.

Suddenly it all stopped and he stepped away from me. I had closed my eyes and thrown back my head as I had become so excited, but now I opened them and focused on what he was doing, and I found my heart pounding in fear rather than excitement. He was standing in front of me holding a flogger, black leather thongs cascading from a thick handle gripped firmly in his fist.

"Oh 'y Go', No, 'ease 'on't !" I spat through the gag, pulling desperately at the ropes holding me in a vain hope of escape. I looked pleadingly at him, not wanting to believe he was really going to use that thing on me.

"I just want the password, soldier", he said quietly. "Why suffer needlessly for that ? Just tell me what it is and I'll untie you, give you your clothes back, and let you go, its that simple. So ... are you going to tell me ?" I stared at him and then at the flogger, fearing the pain he would undoubtedly inflict with it unless I gave in. I didn't want to suffer that pain, but it was like I was hypnotised or brainwashed or something. Instead of giving up the safe word, I slowly shook my head. I saw a cruel little smile flicker at the corners of Steve's mouth.

"Have it your own way" he said, walking around behind me. I braced myself for the blow across my back, but it didn't come. Instead, he appeared on my other side and as I turned to look at him, I felt the blow strike me across the breasts. I screamed as the leather thongs hit me, almost biting into the tender flesh, but before I had even managed to process the flashing pain coming from my tortured breasts, the thongs hit me again, this time across the stomach. As I squirmed and thrashed and cried out in agony, the blows came thick and fast, across my breasts again, on my back, the front of my thighs, across my buttocks. I was sweating like a pig now, even in the cold air, and with tears running down my cheeks, saliva drooling down my chin and even snot running from my nose, I must have looked a mess. I'd watched videos of women getting thrashed on the Internet and it didn't seem too bad, but let me tell you, this was awful ! Every new blow was a fresh agony, made so much worse when it landed on flesh already tender from an earlier strike, and pretty soon I had been hit everywhere from shoulders down to knees, front and back. I was now hanging by my wrists between blows like a rag doll, no longer able to beg him to stop or fight against my bonds.

I was in too much pain to notice that the whipping had stopped. When Steve released my arms, I fell forward and he had to catch me and lower me onto the concrete floor. I just lay there, enjoying the coolness against my burning skin as I tried to cope with the slowly subsiding pain. I felt Steve pull my arms behind my back, but I was too exhausted to resist as I realised he was tying my wrists together, then my elbows, then wrapping rope around me to tie my arms against my body, squashing my breasts in the process. He helped me to my feet by the simple expedient of grabbing me by the hair and pulling. Once upright, he dragged me into the darker recesses of the shed, over to the straw bails, and shoved me onto them, not thinking about, or not caring about, how my already sore body would be scraped and scratched by the sharp stalks poking out of the bails.

As I lay there, my panties were pulled down to my knees and I was pretty sure I knew what was coming next, but I was wrong. I felt something cold dribbled between my buttocks, then Steve's fingers working the lubricant in and around my butt hole. I was going to be anally raped – that was how I felt about it, I had never been taken up there and I had no desire to be now, it seemed dirty and degrading to me.

"Oh, S'eve, 'ease 'on't 'o 'is 'o 'ee !" I begged, trying to get myself up off the hay, but he pushed me back down and forced my legs further apart.

"All you have to do is give me the information I want, you know that" he said coldly. He didn't wait for a response, instead I felt him spreading my buttocks and pressing the tip of his cock against my greased-up hole. As he thrust forward, I screamed in pain, my butt hole was stretched wider than it was meant to go and his shaft forced its way into me. I'd like to say that I enjoyed it at some level, but that would be a lie, all I felt was pain, followed by discomfort, followed by humiliation as he thrust himself in and out of the tight hole. He quickly came inside me, then pulled out, leaving me with the disgusting feeling of something running between my buttocks and down my leg. He pulled my panties off and wiped me with them, before throwing them away.

I felt sick at this point at what I had let him do to me. It had started off as a little bit of fun, a bit of role play, but it was now something much darker, and the problem was I wasn't sure if it was his fantasy or mine. Here I was naked, bound and gagged, in some unknown place in the middle of the night, and I'd been whipped and butt-fucked. And yet, I could have stopped it at any point and had done nothing. Sure, Steve was the one doing all this stuff to me, but I had gone along with it all. Even now, while I was feeling disgusted at what he had done to me, some part of me was loving my situation, my utter helplessness, my torture and punishment for being a 'feisty' girl. I deserved to be punished. I wanted to be punished.

Having got his end away, Steve was ready to go now, and dragged me out of the building and back into the night. I had crawled there, but now I was forced to run back to the car, with the flogger flicking at my buttocks to encourage me. I was grateful for the ropes squashing my breasts against my chest, as they stopped them bouncing as much as they would have done. I hurried back up the track, then through the woods until we reached the car.

"Well done, Corporal Travers, you have successfully completed the first phase of tonight's exercise". First phase ? I hoped phase 2 involved a hot shower and soft bed, but I doubted it.

"The scenario is that you have now escaped your captors". That's good, I thought. "Now you must use your survival training to avoid recapture". That didn't sound quite so good.

"We'll rendezvous here again at 2300 hours tonight, for your extraction". With that, he got into the car, slammed the door shut and started the engine.

"Nooooooooooooooooo !" I screamed in horror. The car window rolled down and I saw Steve was smiling.

"All you have to do is give me the password, Travers – last chance". I stared at him – why couldn't I just say the fucking word ?! As I stood there in silence, he rolled up the window and drove off down the track. I ran after him, screaming something incomprehensible, until he got to the end of the track, pulled out onto the road and sped away. I couldn't believe this was happening, it must be a bluff. I sank to the ground and leaned against a tree, waiting for him to come back and pick me up. I waited. And waited. And fell asleep.

I was woken by the sound of an engine very close and bright lights, and opened my eyes to see a car coming along the road a matter of yards from me. Luckily, I was a few yards down the track and had slid off the tree I had propped myself against and was lying half-hidden in the grass. The car flashed by without slowing, but I realised just how exposed I was. The sun had risen, it looked like it was going to be a beautiful sunny day and I also saw a sign pointing down the track I was next to with the word "Bridleway" on it – so it was likely it was going to be used by the general public on this Saturday. I had to get out of there.

I was disappointed and worried to find that the trees around the track were not densely packed, as I had assumed, offering ample places to hide, but were conifers spaced widely, and were only a few yards deep on either side, so hardly even hid me from the road, never mind the track. Open fields beyond the trees offered no cover either – my only option was to hurry down the track. I soon came back to the barn where I guessed I had been held the night before, and I saw that it was one of a set of farm buildings around a farmhouse. I could hear dogs barking in the house and knew I couldn't hide here. The track I had been following went down into and through the farmyard to the meadows beyond, but a path led off to the side, up and over a small hill, and I raced along it, happy to get out of sight of the farm.

I must have gone at least a mile along the path, becoming increasingly anxious about finding suitable cover. Eventually the trees gave out altogether and I stood there, looking at an expanse of totally exposed open fields. In front of me, the ground fell away to a river in the bottom of the valley. On the other side of the water, the ground rose again through a field of crops, but at the top of the hill I saw an oasis of trees, maybe only an area ten feet by ten feet, but completely overgrown – the perfect hiding place ! In fact, the only hiding place, but separated from me by fifty yards of bare ground and a river. Well, this was turning into a real adventure !

After a couple of minutes intense looking around and listening, I set off down the slope as fast as I could. When I reached the river, I realised there was a problem. The water was deeper, wider and moving faster than I'd thought, but that wasn't the problem. There was a line a rocks which were intended as stepping stones, but I knew I couldn't risk using them – they were too rough, too far apart and too wet, the chances of slipping and falling were way too high. So I stepped into the water and let out a howl – it was icy cold. I waded across as fast as I could, trying to ignore the cold as it swirled around my knees, and then at the deepest point, around my waist. I stumbled frighteningly on sharp or slippery stones a couple of times, but I made it across and scrambled out at the other side. I dashed up through the field, which seemed to be sown with wheat which came up to my knees, and reached the small copse of trees. It was surrounded by a wooden fence, which I realised I would have to crawl under, but as I got down on my knees, I saw that the entire copse was interwoven with bramble bushes and that I was going to have to force my way through them to get in. I looked around for another way in or a better option, but I already knew I had no choice and I should just do it as quickly as possible. I had to lie down on the bare earth and wriggle my body along to get under the fence and I was about half way when I felt the first set of thorns ripping into my thigh. I carried on, trying to ignore the pain as they scratched my arms, my buttocks and my feet. Once I was inside I struggled back to my feet, stayed bent over and pushed my way through to the middle of the copse, stifling a cry when a bramble caught me across the breasts and drew blood. I found a spot without brambles and sat down, finally feeling safe and hidden. A few minutes later I was lying down and a few minutes after that I was fast asleep.

When I woke up, it was stifling hot. I was bathed in sweat and a cloud of flies flew up when I moved, which was pretty disgusting. My head was pounding, my mouth was parched and my throat was aching, and I knew I was severely dehydrated. I was starving hungry, but I knew I could manage the day without eating – hell, I might even lose some weight – but I had to take on some water, and pretty soon, or I would be in serious trouble. I didn't want to leave my hiding place, but the thought of all that cool, sweet water only a few yards away was just tormenting me. Eventually I couldn't stand it any longer, and I crawled back through the brambles to the edge of the copse and looked out. Everything was still, quiet and deserted. Taking my courage in both hands – not a very appropriate turn of phrase given my arms were still tightly bound behind my back – I scrambled out under the fence and staggered down the hill to the river, looking a round nervously all the way.

I jumped into the icy cold water, but it felt glorious this time, washing over me as I sank to my knees and dipped my head to gulp it down through the holes in the wiffle ball. A fit of coughing stopped me for a few seconds, but I quickly sucked down as much water as I could, until I could almost feel my stomach bulging and sloshing. When I had slaked my thirst, I just sat there, letting the water wash over my body as it rushed by, making a little bow wave around my breasts.

That was when I heard it – the sound of a diesel engine. I rapidly scrambled onto the river bank and listened intently, trying to determine exactly where the noise was coming from – I remembered David Attenborough saying animals never ran until they saw the danger, because they could be running into it, and I crouched there like a demented Meerkat, head twisting this way and that, trying to triangulate the sound. Then I saw the roof of a tractor, coming over the hill directly towards me across the field – I would have been in the middle of if I'd started to run back to the trees. Looking around frantically for any cover, I saw an old animal feeding trough twenty yards to my right and immediately made a dash for it. I risked a glance at the tractor and could see I only had seconds left before the driver came into my view and, therefore, I came into his. I reach the trough and, without thinking or hesitating, I scrambled into it, falling in with a heavy thump as I landed painfully on my hip. The bottom of the galvanised metal trough was covered by a six inch deep slurry of mud, water and green algae, which stank atrociously as I slid into it, but I had no choice except to press my body as low as I could so I wouldn't be seen, my nose just inches from the noxious slime.

I listened intently, not daring to look, as the engine noise grew louder until it seemed to be almost on top of me, before finally starting to recede again. I thought I would risk a look now, but I found I had another problem – I kept slipping in the ooze and couldn't get myself back onto my knees. Eventually I managed to do a gym-style crunch, raising my upper body just enough to see over the edge by raising my legs as counterbalance and really working my abs. I saw that the tractor was spraying some chemical on the crop in the field and, given that he would need to go up and down the field several times, I guessed this was going to take a while. I relaxed and sank back, feeling the disgusting stuff I was lying in getting into my hair. I resigned myself to just lying there and listening as the tractor went back and forth.

The sound was almost hypnotic as I lay there, watching the white fluffy clouds going lazily by overhead. Suddenly the noise stopped as the engine died and I heard voices only a few yards from me ! It sounded like a group of walkers chatting with the tractor driver, asking him which way they were allowed to walk. It only lasted a few minutes before the engine started again ,but it just brought home to me exactly how vulnerable and exposed I really was.

After an hour or so, the tractor drove away and I was left in silence, but I was too spooked to try and see what was happening. I just lay there, in the stinking soup, just watching as the sun slowly sank out of sight. I waited until it was starting to get dark and there was a slight chill in the air before trying to move.

And then I found I was going to have a real problem getting out. The metal sides of the trough would have been slippery enough, but with the smelly gloop all over the bottom and all over me, every move I made just ended up with me sliding back to the bottom. It started to get properly dark and I began to panic a little as I grew tired and sore with my exertions. At last I found a way. By jamming myself in one corner of the trough, turning on my stomach and holding my breath as I dipped my face into the gunk and simultaneously pulled up my knees and pressed my forehead against the metal, I managed to get my bum in the air and my knees underneath me. Gagging as the evil-tasting liquid came through the ball and into my mouth, I slowly straightened up and got my face up and out of the mire. Carefully trying to avoid slipping, I shifted my weight until I was hanging over the side, with my head facing the ground. With one last effort I pushed with my feet, straightened my legs and fell out of the trough and onto the ground, knocking all the wind out of my body in the process.

Although the river water was once again chilling rather than refreshing, I forced myself below its surface, to wash the terrible stink away. By the time I had cleaned myself satisfactorily and waded across to the other side, I was shivering violently. I tramped miserably back to the track and then to the road, confident I would not meet any walkers at this time. When I reached the spot where Steve had left me, I slumped down in the trees to wait for him to return.

As I sat there, I thought back over the last 24 hours – naked, bound and gagged, I had been tortured, violated and abandoned, left exposed and at risk of discovery, public disgrace and humiliation. I had not had an orgasm and hardly any sexual stimulation, but I had to admit it had been one of the most erotic and exciting days of my life. I was sore, exhausted and really looking forward to getting this damn ball out of my mouth, but it had been worth it. I wondered idly whether I wanted Steve inside me or would rather just bring myself to a glorious lazy climax in a hot bath with a cold beer. I decided having him bring me to a glorious lazy climax in a hot bath would be ideal.


Part 3 (added: 04/17/2011)

Steve and I went on holiday together for the first time that summer, two weeks of sun, sea and sex in the Greek islands. Whenever I went on holiday as a kid with my parents, it was like a military operation as my mum always packed way too many clothes, and I was determined to travel light. I had managed the previous year with a couple of bikinis, a couple of sundresses, two sets of underwear and a pair of espadrilles – this year I was determined to do better.

I took only one outfit, which I would travel in and wear out at night, but it was quite an outfit. I wore my black basque with its frilly lace edging, thong, suspenders, sheer black stockings and platform stilettos, then on top of that my nurse's uniform, with its low-cut, button-up front which I was spilling out of and it had a short hemline just about covering my stocking tops. Steve almost popped his cork right there before we set off for the airport, and it was all he could do to keep his hands off me till we got there – it must be quite uncomfortable driving for an hour and a half with a hard-on !

I certainly attracted some looks as I sashayed through the terminal, lustful from the men, astonished from the girls and disgusted from the women. As we queued for security, I gave everyone a flash of bare thigh as I bent over to remove my shoes and put them on the X-ray machine with my carry-on bag, which contained my entire wardrobe for the fortnight – spare bra and pants if it was too hot to wear the basque, a white bikini which became entirely see-through when wet, a red bikini thong which had forced me to have a very severe Brazilian wax before setting off, and a pair of plastic flip-flops.

When I went through the arch, the beeper went off, probably due to the watch pinned to my breast, and the security guard eagerly came over to check me out. Unfortunately for him, they don't do pat-down checks any more, and he only got to wave his magnetic wand close to my body. Mind you, he did get it incredibly close to me, and when it went off, he carefully investigated the watch, turning it this way and that, copping a quick feel of my breast at the same time.

Meanwhile, my bag was stuck in the X-ray machine and three guards were clustered around looking at the screen. I guessed this was because the contents, other than my beachwear, consisted of several gags, lengths of rope, two vibrators and a range of butt plugs. Once I had put my shoes back on, giving everyone a good view of my arse again, they asked me to open the bag and explain what the gags and ropes were for. I took one of the gags out of the bag and held it up to my face, opening my mouth to insert the ball and holding the strap across my cheeks to illustrate its use. I definitely had a gawping audience now, and I was loving it, my inner exhibitionist well and truly on show.

Once we were clear of security, we had a good giggle and I realised Steve was at least as turned on as I was. As we went down towards the gate, he suddenly dragged me into the gents toilet and, after startling a few guys at the urinals and sinks, pushed me into a cubicle. He turned me to face the wall, and I had to grab the cistern for support as he flipped my dress around my waist, pulled down my thong and rammed his rock-hard cock into my dripping, receptive pussy. He did it hard and fast, and despite our best efforts to keep quiet, we made quite a bit of noise as we reached a frenetic climax together. The thought that the cubicle might be under surveillance to catch drug smugglers just added to the excitement. When we were finished, Steve went off and I strolled out, taking time to wash my hands, enjoying the stares as I bent low over the sink to splash water over my face, neck and décolletage.

On the plane, we were eager to join the 'mile high' club, but a particularly hatchet-faced stewardess was determined to make sure we didn't, keeping a beady eye on us at all times. When I went to the toilet, she was there, looking at me suspiciously and demanding to see what was in my bag. I shrugged and held it open, enjoying her red face as she saw the rope, gags and toys. When I had done what I needed to do in the loo, I decided at least one of us was going to join the club. I slipped off my thong and took out my best vibrator and vibrating butt plug. Once I had fully inserted them, I tied myself a crotch rope and smoothed down my dress, knowing that close inspection would reveal the outline of the rope under the thin material of the uniform, then switched on the vibrators before going back to my seat. As I writhed and whimpered quietly under the persistent attentions of the toys and my cheeks glowed bright red, I'm sure the stewardess knew exactly what was going on, but there was nothing she could do but scowl as she served me drinks. It was a very enjoyable flight !

In Athens, security was a lot more strict, the guards all having pistols and some carrying rifles. The man checking my passport couldn't keep his eyes off my cleavage and I was not surprised when I was asked to step into a side room for further questioning. Steve tried to come with me, but they made it quite clear he was not welcome, pushing him back with their rifle butts. I went into the room and sat down on the straight-backed chair, looking around nervously as the door was firmly closed.

I was questioned by a young guard with a big moustache, accompanied by a large, severe female guard, slightly less good-looking and even more grumpy than the stewardess earlier. He asked me the purpose of my visit, how long I was staying, my occupation, and why I was wearing a nurse's uniform when I was not a nurse and not studying medicine. I said I liked the uniform, I was wearing it for a bet, and I didn't know it was illegal in Greece. This brought a smile from the man, then the woman emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. More questions. I had been in there for over an hour, it was very hot and stuffy, and I was literally covered in sweat, though it didn't seem to affect them, I guess they were used to it.

"We need to strip search you now" the man said, "Take off your clothes please"

"What ??" I exclaimed, thinking this was getting out of hand.

"You have behaved very suspiciously. We need too check you are not smuggling drugs or weapons". The woman loomed over me, pulled out a pair of latex gloves and gave me a thin smile as she put them on. Reluctantly, I stood up and unbuttoned my uniform. There was a large mirror on one wall, and I knew it was a two-way, and I guessed there would be quite an audience by now. As I took off the uniform and put it over the chair, I had the additional embarrassment of trying to explain the crotch rope and toys, which were still in place, though thankfully the batteries had run down. I untied the rope and pulled out the vibrators and put them on the table. The man picked each one up, examining it carefully, dismantling it, even sniffing it, before satisfying himself they were genuine.

"Remove the basque" he ordered. I put my stiletto on the chair seat and unclipped the suspenders, before repeating on the other side, then I indicated to the woman to help me with the clasps so I could take it off. I put it down on the desk and stared defiantly into the mirror, striking a pose for my secret admirers. At that moment the door opened and a very attractive woman in a white coat entered pushing a small trolley with some medical instruments on it. She asked me, in perfect English, to open my mouth, then sprayed something into my throat. Almost immediately my tongue and lips became numb, like I'd been anaesthetised, and when she added a thin plastic pipe to the nozzle and sprayed down my throat, the feeling spread. She then put a long tube into my mouth and told me to swallow as she fed it gradually down my oesophagus. She turned to look at a small screen on the trolley and I could see a camera image of my stomach as she checked I hadn't swallowed any drugs. After a couple of minutes she withdrew the tube, giving me the feeling of being sick, said a few words to the male guard and left. I was rather disappointed, because that meant the rest of the search would be conducted by the rather frightening female guard.

She positioned the chair and motioned for me to bend over and grab the seat of the chair, which I did, knowing that this put me in the perfect position to give the hidden crowd a grandstand view of my pussy. I was surprised and rather scared when I saw her pick up a nasty looking metal thing, which I guessed was a speculum, and a tube of lubricant. I think she only smeared the minimum of the lube on my anus because she was legally obliged to, before she forced the cold metal prongs of the speculum deep into my butt and opened it up, drawing a squeal of pain from me. She twisted it from side to side, just ensuring she caused the maximum discomfort I'm sure, then I felt something pushed down the centre of the device and even deeper into my body. It felt like if the camera had still been in my throat the doctor would have been able to see this thing. After a few more painful and probably unnecessary pokes and prods, she withdrew the speculum and I straightened up, somewhat gingerly.

Now I was forced to lie back on the table, with my legs wide apart, once again giving the mirror an eyeful. The guard didn't bother with lubricant or even any instruments this time, just thrusting her fingers into my pussy and forcing them up inside me. I let out several cries, which gradually turned into moans, as she forced, two, three fingers in, then four. I gasped as I felt her thumb push against my labia, opening them and pressing down on my clitoris. I reached down to try to stop her, but the male guard grabbed my wrists and pulled my arms above my head. I could do nothing to stop her as she forced her whole hand into my stretched vagina and I let out an anguished cry, not quite believing what was happening. Her fingers were clawing at my G-spot and when her thumb popped out and rubbed hard and fast against my clit, I was forced to a noisy climax.

The rubber gloves came off with a snap and were tossed in the bin. As I sat up, the female guard, scowled a little deeper and handed me the smallest possible moist towellette with which to clean myself, then walked out of the room. As I stood up, the male guard sat back down and started filling out the paperwork. With no further instructions, I put my clothes back on, struggling into the basque and retrieving my thong, as if that would restore any of my dignity. I scooped the ropes and gags back into my bag, put on my uniform, and, when the guard continued to ignore me, I stumbled out of the room, with a last furtive glance at the wall mirror, and stepped back into the real world. Steve was waiting for me, and was horrified by my story, ready to go and give them a piece of his mind, but I persuaded him I just wanted to get to the hotel, into my bikini and outside a large gin & tonic.

We were staying in a small, cheap hotel, but the room was clean and it was only yards from the beach. We changed into our beach stuff and got out there, even though it was already late afternoon. My magic disappearing bikini attracted a lot of attention as I came out of the sea and by the time the sun was going down, we had met a bunch of brits on holiday and had arranged to go out for a drink. There were a few wolf whistles and jokes when I turned up in my nurse's uniform, but it was all good-natured. The girls in the group – Rebecca, Gemma and Hermione, all ex-public school girls, so posh and loaded with daddy's money – did not feel threatened by me, as they were all stunningly good-looking, and the guys – four city boys out on the make – were envious of Steve for having a girlfriend who dressed sexily to please him.

I was exhausted after my earlier adventures and when they said they were going on to a nightclub, I made my excuses. Steve walked me back to the room, but had arranged to join them at the club. He took me up to the room and kissed me goodnight, which turned into a passionate snog, then my clothes were quickly disappearing around the room. I fell back on to the bed naked, but then I found myself flipped over, rope around my wrists, ball gag strapped into my mouth. He pulled me up off the bed and out onto the tiny balcony, which overlooked the main road. Our room was on the second floor and, with only iron railings in front, we were perfectly visible to anyone walking past and looking up, as well as being overlooked by several much larger hotels across the road.

Steve forced me down onto the cool concrete of the balcony and I felt my ankles being tied, then my elbows. He looped a rope between ankles and elbows and pulled it tight, dragging my feet up behind me and arching my back in a strict hogtie. He went back into the room for something and I felt him ease my thighs apart and work a vibrator up into my pussy, followed by a butt plug forced into my still-sore sphincter. He switched them on and gave me a pat on the rump, before disappearing inside again. I heard the French windows close and the key turn in the lock, and a minute later I saw Steve heading up the road beneath me, giving me a wave and blowing me a kiss. So much for my early night ! Instead of being tucked up in bed, I was out here, exposed to the world, in a very uncomfortable bondage, being tormented by the buzzing vibrators, going fast enough to demand my attention but not fast enough to make me cum. It was going to be a long and tiring night.

We had come back at around 11 pm and the clubs didn't close until at least 3 am, so my ordeal was a long one. I was soon dripping with sweat in the warm night air, my arms, legs and back aching at being held in such unnatural positions. I watched groups of happy and drunk holiday makers going up and down the street, grateful that they didn't look up and see me lying there. I watched the hotel across the street as room lights went on, but I guess no-one wanted to look down at the street so didn't bother coming out on their balconies. I had a moment of panic when the light in the room next to ours went on and the French windows opened, and I could hear voices from inside the room, but when no-one appeared on the balcony after ten minutes, I relaxed a little, assuming they had only opened the windows to let in some fresh air. I then heard the sound of two people having energetic and quite loud sex, which did nothing to ease my frustration. After an hour or so, the lights went off and all was quiet.

At last I saw Steve coming back, but to my consternation, he was accompanied by a woman. As they got closer, I could see it was Rebecca, and they seemed to be deep in conversation. Suddenly, Steve looked up and pointed straight at me, and when Rebecca followed his gaze, I saw her mouth form a perfect O of surprise, so I was in no doubt as to whether she had seen me. There was another bit of conversation, Rebecca smiled, and they walked towards our hotel. I didn't want to think about what might happen next, but a couple of minutes later, they were both standing over me with a glass of wine, having a laugh at my expense.

"I told you she was seriously into bondage, didn't I ?" Steve said with a smile.

"Wow ! So she's been here, tied up like that, all the time we've been in the club ?" Rebecca asked incredulously, "And she asked you to do that to her ?"

"Not exactly" Steve confessed, "We have a safe word, and all she has to do is use the safe word and she knows I'll stop".

"But she's gagged" the other girl said with a frown.

"The word is 'GOOGOO' . You can say it with a gag in, can't you Gayle ?". I nodded my head and 'mmmphed' for dramatic effect.

"Let's get her inside and have some fun". Steve released me from the hogtie, untied my ankles, and helped me back into the room, where he forced me to kneel, before removing the gag.

"You bastard, Steve !" I spat at him, "How could you tell someone else about my ... preferences, let alone bring them here and show me to them, like this ? We're fucking finished ! Untie me, right now !" Rebecca looked shocked and concerned, glancing between me and Steve. Steve just smiled.

"She still didn't use the safe word, did she ?" Steve said confidently, " Everything else is just for show, part of the game".

"You think so ?" I hissed, "Untie me in the next five seconds or I'll show you-mmmph !" My threat was cut off as the gag was re-inserted and strapped even tighter.

"I think that level of disobedience requires punishment, don't you ?" Steve said as he dragged me up off the floor by my hair and forced me to bend over the back of a chair, presenting my arse for such punishment.

"Hand me that length of rope, would you Rebecca ?" he said, indicating the rope on the bed. Rebecca looked unsure about participating in any way in this but, under pressure from Steve, she picked up the rope. I, and probably Rebecca, assumed he was going to tie me to the chair with the rope, but instead he held me down firmly with one hand and used the rope as an impromptu whip, whacking me hard across the buttocks with it repeatedly, making me cry out and struggle to get free. Rebecca looked shocked at the violence of the attack – that is, she looked shocked until Steve stuffed my face into a cushion to muffle my cries, then I don't know how she looked. The beating was long and very painful, when it finished I was very red in the face and, I'm sure, red in the buttocks too. Steve pushed me back on my knees and removed the gag again.

"Let's see if that's taught you anything – what do you say ?" Steve panted, a little out of breath from his exertions.

"I apologise for my disobedience ... Master" I mumbled sullenly.

"That's better. What do you say to our guest ?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress, for embarrassing you and shaming my Master" I said, really getting into this new game. "Please let me pleasure you to atone for my unacceptable behaviour". Rebecca looked even more shocked, but when she bit her bottom lip, I knew she was considering it – isn't that why she'd come up here ? Steve piled on the pressure.

"You have to really, Becky, otherwise our little slave will feel even more worthless than she already is".

"Please, Mistress, let me make you cum, otherwise Master will beat me again !" I begged, laying it on thick. Steve smiled a wicked smile, and we could both see Rebecca was going to crack.

"I'll just leave you to it" Steve said to both of us, and stepped out onto the balcony, closing the windows behind him. Rebecca looked at me nervously.

"Are you sure ? He's gone, say the word and I'll untie you. You can stay in my room if he's forcing you to do stuff you don't want to do"

"He is my Master", I said, "He can do whatever he pleases with me. And now you are my Mistress. Let me serve you, Mistress". With a last nervous glance at the window and then back at me, Rebecca finally gave in to her curiosity and her desires. She reached up under her little black dress and pulled down her knickers, then sat on the edge of the bed with them around her ankles. I shuffled forward on my knees until my body was between her thighs and, as I bent forward, she pulled up the hem of her dress to her waist, revealing a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair, glistening in the light, betraying her already well-advanced state of sexual arousal. As I lowered my head and let my tongue run over her mound, she fell back on the bed and let out a loud moan. If the folks next door were still awake, that would remind them of their own performance earlier.

As I set to work, letting my tongue slide down her slit, pushing her labia aside and seeking out her clitoris, I felt her fingers in my hair, massaging my scalp, tugging, and I noticed they were trembling as her moans became louder and longer.

"Oh, yes, God yes !" I heard her whispering breathlessly, "That feels sooooooo good !". I pushed my tongue into her vagina, letting my nose rub against her now swollen clit as I delved deep inside her, before moving back to the main centre of the action and sucking her clit into my hot little mouth and massaging it with the tip of my tongue, driving her wild.

"Oh God oh God oh God, I'm going to cum ! Make me cum ! Yes ! Harder ! Yes ! Yes ! More ! YES !" As she got louder she grabbed two handfuls of hair and pulled me in closer, until I could hardly breathe and her thighs were clamped over my ears so I couldn't hear either. My world was just her cunt and my only purpose was to make her cum. Which I achieved pretty shortly after that, and even with my ears covered I could hear her, so the neighbours must have enjoyed it. I tried to carry on licking her, to force her to a second climax, but she pushed me away, obviously in that very sensitive period right after orgasm and not wanting to push through it. She stood up, pulled up her panties, and opened the French windows.

"I think I'd better go now" she said to Steve.

"Are you sure ? You don't have to, you could stay and ..." He left it open, and she shot a glance at me, concerned about what would happen to me when she left, but also with a hunger for more of the same.

"No" she said, sounding regretful, "I'd better get back". When she had gone, Steve looked down at me with a smile.

"What do you want to do now then ?" he asked.

"I am your slave" I said dutifully, "Your wish is my command". He laughed and helped me up off the floor, before untying my arms. But then he tied me spread-eagled across the bed and fucked my brains out in one of the best sessions we'd ever had. When we finally fell asleep I was still tied to the bed, but I just felt wonderful. This was turning out to be a great holiday.


Part 4 (added: 05/24/2011)

The next day we headed for the beach for a full-on sun-bathing session. I wore my red bikini thong, which meant I went topless and, although I got disapproving glares from the old couple who ran our hotel, everyone at the beach seemed to like it. We met up with the rest of the group from yesterday, who were all a little hung over and quiet, although the boys seemed perked up by my perky breasts being on show.

Rebecca was particularly withdrawn, but came up to me when I went in the sea for a cool-off.

"You know there are red marks all over your bum, don't you ?" she hissed, sounding offended, like people would naturally assume it was something to do with her. "The others asked me how you were when I saw you last night and I said okay. They're bound to ask about the marks, what am I going to say ?" Now I understood, she was worried about being caught out in a lie.

"Just tell them you've no idea, I was in bed when you came in". That seemed to placate her, so she moved on to her next worry.

"Are you and Steve okay ? That master-slave thing could be really dangerous, you know"

"It was just a game", I reassured her, "We play them all the time". So then she moved on again.

"That thing you did last night" she said coyly, "It was fantastic ! Where did you learn to do that ?"

"I'm glad you liked it. I just did what I'd like done to me, its easy"

"You've never done it before ?"

"No, but I'm happy to do it again, just say the word"

"I might just do that", she said, and smiled for the first time that day.

It was a fun day and by the end of it I had persuaded all the girls to sunbathe topless, which was much appreciated by the boys, who were having difficulty disguising their hard-ons in their speedos (or budgie-smugglers, a wonderful Australian phrase) and swimming shorts. That night we all went out together again, me in my nurse's uniform, and this time I went on to the clubs with them. We danced up a storm, but Steve managed to go off somewhere with the boys, so at the end of the evening I was left with the girls. Gemma said she had a bottle of tequila back at her hotel, so we all piled back there to do shots.

She and Hermione were staying in a plush five-star hotel overlooking the sea, and her room was much bigger than ours. Rebecca and I sprawled on the bed, Hermione curled up on the sofa and Gemma took the comfy chair, sitting with one leg splayed over the arm of the chair, freely advertising the fact she was not wearing any underwear.

Rebecca, who was by far the most drunk of us, said she had heard that city boys did tequila shots off the naked body of a supermodel, and only seconds later, she had stripped naked and was lying on the bed, insisting we did shots off her butt. I had to go first and I balanced the shot glass on her buttock and poured the tequila. Of course, the glass tipped over and the liquid ran over her body. Some of it ran down and formed a little pool in the small of her back. I bent over her and slurped it up, then licked the tequila off her buttock. Some of it had run between her buttocks, so I pushed them apart and licked right down the crack, lingering around her butt hole and even pushing my tongue against it. Gemma and Hermione gave me a surprised round of applause, while Rebecca looked lost in ecstasy.

"I know !" Rebecca said as I straightened up, "Let's get Nurse Gayle to lick us all out !"

"What ?!" Gemma and Hermione exclaimed in unison.

"Didn't *HIC* I tell you ? Gayle is the Queen of Cunnilingus ! Come on Gayle *HIC* do us all !"

"I only do that sort of thing", I said mock seriously, "If I'm naked and tied up". The two other girls' eyes widened even further.

"Get 'em off, then !" Rebecca roared.

"No way !" I laughed, "Any way, you haven't got any rope". Suddenly Rebecca was on top of me and pulling my uniform off.

"We'll *HIC* improvise !" she slurred as she succeeded in removing my uniform and then dragged my basque, thong, stockings and shoes off me all in one go, which was pretty impressive. She grabbed the linen belt off the dress she had been wearing and attempted to tie my arms behind my back, which was rather less impressive.

"Here, let me help" Gemma said, and I found her looming over me as I lay on my stomach on the bed. She took the belt, quickly and efficiently wrapping it around each of my wrists before buckling them tightly together, forming a very effective tie. She went to her drawers and returned with two leather belts which she used to pin my arms tightly against my body one across my chest above my breasts, the other just below them.

"Oh dear", I said, "I appear to be both naked and tied up".

"So, time to demonstrate your skills" Gemma said with a wicked smile. Once Hermione had pulled off her knickers, the three girls lined up, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me with their legs spread, like a production line.

"Just to make it interesting" Gemma, who was clearly the one in charge here ,said, "You have to try and make all three of us cum as close together as possible".

Taking a deep breath, I took on the challenge, starting at the end of the row, with Rebecca. I dived in and concentrated on working on her clitoris, figuring this was going to be tiring enough without getting inventive. Once I had got her to fever pitch, I moved down the line, shuffling on my knees until I had my head between Hermione's thighs and getting to work. I soon had her moaning and imploring me to make her cum, at which point I moved on to Gemma. She took a little longer to bring up to speed, and my tongue was getting a bit tired by now, but I got her motor running eventually, and I could feel her squirming as she became more excited. When I tried to pull away from her to go back to Rebecca, I found my head clamped between her thighs and, unable to break free, I carried on licking and sucking her clit. Eventually she relented and I shuffled back down the line. Rebecca had been a good girl and kept herself 'revved up' while I was otherwise occupied, so she was just about ready to cum when I took her clitoris back into my mouth and brought her to a frenetic climax. One down and two to go, I moved on to Hermione. She had just been sitting and waiting for me, so I pretty much had to start from scratch again. However, she was soon panting and urging me on, pushing my head deeper between her thighs and bucking her hips as she became more and more excited, before finally letting out a loud half-scream as her orgasm hit home, releasing a surprising flood of her juices into my mouth and face.

Finally, back to Gemma. She took a handful of my hair and controlled the intensity of my work, pulling me forward when she wanted more, pushing me back to keep herself on the edge of orgasm. My tongue was aching by now, and it seemed to be going on forever as she forced me to lick and suck her almost to the point of climax over and over again. At last she couldn't hold back any longer and I urgently worked to force her to cum, just to get the job done. She whimpered rather than cried out, and I could imagine her biting her lip, trying to resist, then trying to keep the noise down to a minimum. But at last she came, in what must have been a glorious orgasm, which seemed to roll on and on, with me keeping it boiling over, until at last she pushed me away and fell back onto the bed, exhausted. I slumped back onto the floor, equally exhausted, licking the juices from my face.

"Time for bed, I think", Hermione said as she put her knickers back on. She gave Gemma, who had fully recovered her composure, a quick peck on the cheek, but Rebecca had fallen into a deep and drunken sleep, evidenced by the gentle snores she was emitting.

"Thanks for that unique experience, Gayle", Hermione smiled, before heading off back to her own room. I was ready to head off to bed too, but Gemma seemed to want to talk.

"So what is it with you and bondage ?" she basked as she sipped on her tequila, "And the slutty uniform, the near nakedness on the beach – do you get off on all this exhibitionism ?" I considered the question seriously before replying.

"Oh, absolutely" I enthused, "I love displaying myself, or better still, being tied up and in danger of being on public display. It's a real thrill".

Gemma thought about this for a while, before she got up and went to her drawers. She took out a silk scarf and I watched in growing excitement as she tied a big knot in the middle of it. As she came over to me, she picked up my thong and folded it up into a ball. I struggled to my feet on her command, and was not surprised when she forced the thong into my open mouth, followed by the knotted scarf, which she then tied securely behind my head. This looked promising, I thought, as she took me by the arm and led me across the room. I was surprised and rather nervous when she opened the room door and pulled me into the corridor, and even more nervous when she hustled me into the lift and we headed towards the lobby.

When we got out of the lift, the lobby was deserted and dimly lit except for a light on the reception desk, next to which sat the night porter, a middle-aged guy with reading glasses. He looked up at the sound of the lift doors opening and he did a classic double-take when he saw me emerge, naked and arms strapped to my sides. I assumed Gemma would make a break for the door, but she marched me up to the desk, bold as brass. The man looked alarmed as we approached, his eyes locked onto my bare breasts, from which they never moved.

"Hi, I wonder if you can help us ?" Gemma said with a sweet smile, "My friend is getting married next week and this is her hen night. Obviously, we're having a bit of naughty fun, but we need some rope. Do you have any rope we could borrow, please ?" The man continued to stare at my breasts and I was unsure he had even heard. But then he gave a grunt and shot off down a corridor to a store room, still reluctant to take his eyes off me.

"So, this must be very exciting !" Gemma said with a smile, "Shame there isn't a bigger audience for you" The porter returned carrying not one but two lengths of rope, for which Gemma expressed delight and thanks. She took one of the ropes and tied one end of it tight around the base of my right breast, making it stand out from my body like a balloon. She passed the rope behind my neck and tied the other breast in a similar way, so it looked like I was wearing some kind of fetish halter-neck rope bra. She took the second rope from the stunned man in front of us and tied it around my waist, before passing it between my legs and under itself, forming a crotch rope with enough left over to use to lead me around like a dog.

"Thank you so much", she said to the porter, "I know I'm asking a lot, but could you just check I've tied it tight enough ?" When the man looked confused, she lifted his hand and put it on my swollen breast, even squeezing it a little. He quickly got the idea, and I squirmed and struggled as he groped my breasts with both hands. He reached down and pulled the rope between my legs violently, making me squeal in surprise and, while I was trying to come to terms with that, he leaned forward and started sucking on my nipple. It felt very strange being fondled and groped by this guy, who must have been pushing fifty, but as his fingers spread my pussy lips around the rope, I had to admit it was having an impact on me, although I was relieved when Gemma started pulling me away.

"Thank you, got to go, 'bye 'bye creepy man", Gemma smiled and waved as she dragged me by the rope towards the doors. The porter gave me a filthy look, as if he was suddenly overcome with righteous indignation at my public nakedness, but I notice he didn't take his gaze off my arse as it retreated through the door.

It was around 4 am, but it wasn't cold, and that certainly didn't explain why my nipples were so rock hard. The hotel opened up almost straight onto the beach and Gemma dragged me out onto the sand, the rope rubbing between my pussy lips as she yanked on it viciously, knowing the pain she was causing. There was no-one out at this time, but I still felt incredibly exposed as I followed Gemma down to the shoreline and then along the sand, stumbling through the breaking waves. Gradually the lights of the town died away behind us as she marched on to the far end of the beach, maybe half a mile, until a rocky headland stopped our progress.

Gemma turned to me with a wicked smile.

"Enjoying your little adventure ?" she asked. I stood there looking nervous, not sure what she planned next, although I realised I was incredibly turned on – how was I going to get out of this one ? As she pushed me down onto my knees, the waves gently splashing around my thighs, she pulled the rope tight between my legs and I felt her wrapping it around my ankles, which were crossed behind me. As she knotted the rope, I started to panic, crying and begging her incoherently to please, please, not leave me her. I even shouted out my safe word – "Googoo ! Googoo !!" – through the gag, even though she didn't know what the safe word was or what it meant. I started to become hysterical as I realised she was going to abandon me here, tied up so I couldn't get free, left to be swept under by the tide or to be discovered by beachcombers.

I stopped howling when she slapped me hard across the face and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up a her grinning face.

"I've tied the ropes not too tight, so if you try really hard you might be able to get free, but be careful you don't fall into the water. Of course, you could just wait for someone to find you – it might take a while, and they might decide not to untie you, of course, but I'm sure you'll get the audience you crave. Do come and tell us all about it when you do get free, won't you, Gayle ?" I watched in horror as she walked away, ignoring my desperate pleas, back towards the distant lights of the town, until she disappeared in the darkness.

I cried and moaned for several minutes, the tears running down my face as the sea washed up against me, the waves breaking across my hips and stomach. I was getting light-headed as I hyperventilated in total panic and despair. But eventually I got a grip of myself and tried to think coolly and logically about my situation. First of all – was I going to drown ? The Mediterranean is not a very tidal sea, so the water wasn't going to be racing in or crashing around me in huge waves; also, I was quite close to the 'strand' line, so the water wasn't coming up much higher, in fact the tide might actually be going out already. So, as long as I didn't do anything stupid, as Gemma had said, I would be okay. Second of all – could I get free ? I carefully squatted down on my heels, letting the water swirl around my stomach and splash against my breasts, and I could feel the knots of the rope around my ankles beneath the water. I carefully explored them with my fingertips, trying to work out the best way of approaching the task of untying them. A slightly larger wave slapped against me, making me panic again as I rocked on my knees, and I straightened up, temporarily abandoning my attempts to get free in favour of attempting to stay alive.

The water receded slowly and as I waited, I could see the sky lightening in front of me as dawn approached. I went back to work on the rope as soon as I felt safe, and if the frustration of waiting had been bad, it seemed ten times worse as I tried to untie the knots with fingers numb from the cold sea water. I knew I had to control myself, as any fit of temper would only make matters worse, but when I finally felt the rope come free, only to discover that the bitch had tied another knot underneath, I cried in despair. But I gathered myself and carried on, hoping that just one more effort would free me.

At last the rope came free, and I pitched forward onto the wet sand, my legs aching after being held fixed for so long. I enjoyed the feel of the edge of the wave washing against me, and realised just how tired I was, but I couldn't rest, the band of light across the horizon told me I had very little time to – well, I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I knew I couldn't stay there. I staggered to my feet and started running as fast as I could, which turned out to be no better than a jog, back down the beach towards the town. I knew I was more likely to meet early risers by going this way, but what else could I do ? I had to get to the safety of my hotel room somehow. I didn't take me too long to get back to where I had first come onto the beach, by Gemma's hotel, but the sun had beaten me – it burst over the horizon in front of me, spilling its revealing light along the beach.

I saw the two joggers first, two guys, standing about fifty yards away, doing their stretches – but they hadn't yet looked around in my direction. I then saw that the street beyond the hotel, the one in which my hotel was situated, was almost teeming with people – well, three or four locals heading for an early start a the various hotels, probably doing catering or cleaning. As I stared at them, I saw one woman look up and stare directly at me – I had been spotted. In a matter of seconds, they all seemed to be staring at me, and I heard one of them call out something in Greek, before starting to cross the road in my direction. At the same moment, the joggers looked around and pointed at me. It felt like a scene from Invasion of the Bodysnatchers !

I had to make an instant decision. I realised I couldn't make it to my hotel past all these people, and even if I did, the door would be locked at this time – the family-run hotel didn't keep its reception open all night. But Gemma's hotel did, and it was right in front of me. With the joggers now walking in my direction and at least two people coming down the side of the hotel, I made a dash for the door. On one side of me I heard Greek, on the other I heard "Hey, babe, where you running to ?" in an American accent, which seemed far worse. I pushed at the door as hard as I could and suddenly I was in the air-conditioned splendour of the lobby.

I didn't look around, I made a bee-line for the lifts, and pressed the call button. I willed the lift doors to open and when they did, I gratefully dashed inside. But as I turned, I saw the night porter standing by the doors, staring at me. The doors started to close, but he put his arm out and they slid open again. I started to cry, shake my head, and beg him to please just let me go, all a once, but I saw the hint of a smile as he reached down and picked up the sand-covered rope still hanging from my waist. He yanked on it, dragging me forward and out of the lift, the salt-encrusted surface of the rope ripping across my clitoris, making me yelp in pain. The dragged me unceremoniously back to the reception desk and forced me to my knees behind it. At that moment I heard the hotel door open and several voices, both American and Greek, started talking very close above my head, and I cowered out of sight.

The furore went on for several minutes, the Americans insisting they had seen a naked woman run into the hotel and they were "concerned for her safety". The porter flatly denied any such thing had happened, pointing out how ridiculous their story sounded – the woman was not only naked but bound and gagged, how absurd ! Another conversation was going on in Greek, presumably on similar lines. Eventually the hubbub died down, the voices retreated, and I heard the door open and close. I also realised the porter had gone, leaving me alone. It was my chance to make a break for it, but as I crouched ready to dash to the lifts once more, I realised the rope had been tied to the desk – I had been tethered like an animal !

A few minutes later, I heard a rumbling noise and the porter reappeared pushing a large plastic laundry bin.

"Get in", he ordered, untying the rope from the desk but holding onto it firmly, "I will hide you". I thought about arguing, which would have been difficult as I was still firmly gagged, but I heard the lift arriving and I scrambled over the edge and fell into the laundry at the bottom. The porter quickly pulled a couple of sheets over to hide me, before answering the questions of the guests who had just come out of the lift and were, hopefully, unaware of my presence. After a few minutes, they left and I found myself being wheeled down a corridor. We entered a small room and I realised it must be the service lift as it went up. We went along another corridor, then into another, larger room. The sheets were pulled off me and the porter was staring down a me.

"You wait here", he said gruffly, "I finish my shift, then take you back to your friends". He disappeared from view and I heard the room door open and close. I knelt up with some difficulty and saw that I was in a guest bedroom, unoccupied. I scrambled out of the bin, falling rather painfully to the floor, before getting to my feet and running over to the door to look through the spy hole. Outside, I saw an empty corridor and, across the hall, Gemma's room number ! All I had to do was get out of the room and bang on her door, and this little 'adventure' was over. I was just about to go for it when I saw a maid's trolley appear at the end of the corridor. Damn, I would have to wait until she had passed before I could escape. It wasn't until her face was inches from mine that I realised she was coming into this room. In a blind panic, I ran across the room and into the en suite bathroom. I stepped into the bath and hid behind the shower curtain, knowing this was only putting off my discovery until the maid came in to clean the bath, but I had run out of options.

I heard the maid moving around in the room, and heard the TV turned up loud on the Greek equivalent of MTV, then the vacuum cleaner started up. I was seriously thinking of just giving up and showing myself – how bad could the shock and disapproval from a Greek maid be ? Of course, she might call the manager, and he might call the police ...

My thought processes were interrupted by the sound of raised voices, one male, one female, in the other room. I thought I recognised the nigh porter's voice, and he sounded fairly annoyed. I guessed he was arguing with the maid that she shouldn't be cleaning the room, and he must have convinced because, after a few minutes, I heard her packing up and, with a few ripe-sounding phrases, departing. I was relieved when the porter appeared and helped me out of the bath, I even offered muffled thanks, until he led me back into the bedroom and I saw the other two guys. They were younger than the porter, one dressed in workman's overalls, the other in a chef's white coat, but both were grinning widely and, as I started to struggle against the porter's suddenly vice-like grip on my arm, they started stripping off the top layers of their clothes. The porter had clearly decided he deserved a reward for helping me, and he was going to share it with his friends.

I was wrestled on to the bed and held down as I watched the porter unzip his fly and pull out his stiff cock. He barked a command and the other two dragged my legs apart while he got down and shoved his length into my pussy, which was raw and dry from the rope being dragged across it. I let out a cry as he forced himself into me, but the response was a large hand clamped across my face. As he thrust into me and the other two groped and squeezed my aching, distended breasts, I closed my eyes to try and shut out what was probably the most horrible experience of my life. But, gradually, inevitably, my body started to respond and I felt myself reflexively thrusting my hips forward to pull in the full length of his member. I knew he was close to cumming now, but I suddenly heard a strangled cry from my left, and I opened my eyes to find that the builder guy had been pulling himself off and at that moment he shot his load straight into my face from point-blank range, covering my eyes, blinding me, and going up my nose so I was almost breathing the stuff in. Seconds later, the porter had finished by pulling his cock out and I felt his hot cum spurting across my stomach.

I was manhandled off the bed and onto my knees. I felt the scarf being loosened and the wad of the thong pulled from my mouth, for which I was grateful, but I knew what was coming next. As I tried to shake and blink the cum out of my eyes, my hair was grabbed and I opened my mouth to receive the cock I felt pressed against my lips. My face was pressed up against the body of the chef – I assumed it must be him as he hadn't cum yet – and his erection filled my mouth to the point of choking me as he forced it in as deep and as hard as he could. I took a breath whenever I could as he fucked my face, there's no other way to describe it, then filled my mouth with his semen. I swallowed it down almost greedily, and I knew I was incredibly turned on by all this rough treatment. When I was forced face down, arse up, over the edge of the bed, I could hardly stop myself from begging them to take me again, but I didn't need to worry, they had every intention of making the most of this glorious opportunity. One after another, they took me from behind, and I reached orgasm after orgasm as they rode me like a wild animal.

At last, exhausted, I lay there and watched as they straightened their clothes and then went out, leaving me alone, degraded, humiliated, ashamed at my wantonness, still tied up, my body covered in my sweat and their bodily fluids. I dragged my tired and aching body off the bed and went to the door, not even bothering to look if there was anyone in the hallway. I stumbled across the hall, ignoring the maid's trolley a couple of doors down, and banged as hard as I could on Gemma's door. As I waited, the maid came out of the room she was cleaning and looked at me in horror. By way of response, I gave her a wan smile and kicked the door behind me a little harder. She started jabbering at me in Greek and striding towards me, but at that moment, the door behind me opened and I fell backwards into the room, sprawling on the floor. Gemma, who was standing over me and was naked, had the presence of mind to close the door on the agitated Greek woman, and I relaxed, feeling safe for the first time in quite a while.

"Thanks for that wild experience" I said to Gemma, "Now get me the fuck out of this stuff so I can have a shower !"