Rebecca’s shopping trip yesterday to Pacific Fair with Me was not her first one. She had already been there once before although not in the way she imagined she would be going *wicked grin*. Here is HER version of events in regard to that very first trip:
Rebecca had no
idea what was happening, bound, gagged and blindfolded as she was. The woman was fashioning a hobble rope around
Rebecca’s ankles while she gasped for breath as best she could on the chair. Rebecca’s
wrists were pinioned together behind her, secure in locked leather cuff – enough
to give her the uneasy feeling that she would be wearing them for a long time.
She had already
endured what seemed like an hour of being bound on the floor of the dungeon,
victim of the woman’s malicious whims. She had been gagged for a long time, the
hard rubber ball jammed in her mouth, the straps tight at the back of her neck,
either side of her nose leading over the top of her head, and the extra one
that ran around her jaw from temple to temple. When the nipple clips had been
put in place Rebecca could only whine and mumble in pain as the jaws bit into
her tender nubs. Behind the blindfold she could not see what the next torture
was destined to be. The woman was playing some sort of bizarre dice game with
her, throwing a bulky dice to determine how each limb would be bound and how
long the victim would have to endure the stringent position.
wound up with her ankles parted by a spreader bar, and each leg taped shin to
thigh in the bent position. It made it difficult to even squirm about on her
back, and she daren’t roll on to her stomach because of the pain her clamped
nipples would have to endure. She had tried to undo the heavy leather ankle
cuffs, but after managing to reach them with her fingers she found they were
locked in place. She despaired, pleading through the gag for relief whenever
her tormentor came into the room – in vain. She did not know what her fate was
to be. She heard snatches of a phone conversation – some sort of delivery plan.
It scared her.
There was the
pain and there was the unrequited pleasure. First the butt plug was jammed in
her arse, locked in place by a stainless steel crotch strap. In contrast to the
filling sensation in her rear, she had been unable to deny the throbbing in her
loins, but could neither reach this nor turn over to grind her crotch into the
thick carpet, as she suddenly so wished to do. She was sure the woman had
secured her specifically with this frustration element in mind.
When her legs
were finally released, Rebecca was allowed to sit on a chair, panting hard
through the gag at the exertion of being forced to get to her feet. As the
woman finished tying the hobble rope around her ankles, there came the sound of
whined. What was going on?
“Stay there, girl,”
the woman’s voice said. It was firm and husky, in control of the situation and
confident that the bound prisoner could do nothing to avoid her fate.
the door close as the woman left the dungeon, followed by muted voices. Her breathing was laboured, constricted by
the corset laced tightly around her waist over the top of the snug maroon lycra
skirt and top. The high heeled boots were also tight – her whole body seemed to
be encased, from the harness on her head to the five inch heels.
The woman came
back, unzipped Rebecca’s top and released the clamps from her nipples without
ceremony. Rebecca screamed into the ball jammed in her mouth as the searing
pain flooded her body and left her snorting and whimpering.
“Get up, girl!”
ordered the woman. Reluctantly Rebecca did as she was told, fearful of what was
to come. She was prodded across the room in the blackness, tottering in her
booted heels on the thick carpet. The woman then seemed to tire of her charge’s
hesitancy as they reached a step, and pulled the leather blindfold off. Rebecca
blinked in the light.
grinned mischievously at her. She wore a woollen skirt and a red top that
showed an enviable figure, topped by lustrous blonde hair stopping at her
shoulders. Red knee-length boots completed the outfit, matching her top and
“Come on,” she
ordered. Rebecca looked down and saw the step, managing to get up it in the
hobble rope. The woman pushed her towards the door.
Rebecca. Was she going outside, bound and gagged and looking like a slut in
short skirt, corset and killer boots?
prodded her out the door. Rebecca saw a car was waiting in the driveway just
outside the gate, with its boot already open. Dear God, what were they going to
do to her? The woman wasted no time,
towing her through the gate and pushing her without ceremony, backwards into
the boot. She barely had time to curl her hobbled legs inside before the boot
shut with a thump.
She was in the
boot of a car, corseted, bound, gagged, plugged and hobbled, being taken to who
knew where? Surely this only happened in bondage novels, not for real? She
chewed on the gag but could barely make much more than a mumbled whine.
Distantly she could hear snatches of voices inside the car – faint
The car backed
down the drive. Rebecca lay on her side facing the rear, her nyloned knees
braced against the back, her head against one side behind the rear wheel arch. The
boot was not the dark claustrophobic black pit she might have expected. Illumination
seemed to come about where the sun shone through the brake and indicator
lights, which were accessible from inside. She looked about. There were a
couple of small holes in the rear parcel shelf that suggested she would not
still not believe that she was bound and gagged in the boot of a car being
driven around Surfers Paradise! What would people think if they knew? What if
there was an accident, even a minor nose-to-tail? The thought sent a chill
mixture of fear and thrill through her blood.
She had no concept
of how far they drove. Maybe it was fifteen minutes. The light suddenly dimmed
and they went over a bump that suggested an underground parking lot. They slowed right down and there came the
sound of other people nearby as they came to a halt. What would those people
think if they knew a bound, kidnapped young girl lay helpless only metres from
There came the
sound of car doors opening and closing, then the boot opened briefly. Rebecca saw past the sly smile looking down
at her – enough to realise her thoughts were correct,
and they were in a shopping centre car park.
shopping,” the woman said peremptorily, then slammed the boot closed again. God! How could this be? She was helpless,
unable to get free, though with just enough movement to be spared the cramps
that might have come from poorly placed ropes. What was going to happen to her? How long was she to be left in this
prison? She chewed on her gag again. Was the air becoming stuffy, or was that
just her imagination? She shifted
uneasily, wondering if she could get closer to that small hole. She had heard
of people dying from exhaust fumes, but so far there had been no hint of such. Time
seemed to slow down and she was surprised when there came the sound of clicking
boot heels and the boot suddenly opened again.
alive, I see,” said the woman as though kidnapping a young innocent was all in
a day’s work.
Then they were
on the move again, sliding about in the boot as the car rounded corners. Again Rebecca had no idea of time. She tugged
on her wrist cuffs and tried to ignore the presence of the big plug locked in
her arse. Her nipples were still sore from the clamps, but fortunately she had
not been forced to endure those on top of everything else during the trip.
They were back
at the dungeon after another indefinite period. Rebecca’s ankles were released
and she was hauled from the boot and hustled in through the front door again,
out of sight of the general public once more, into the fantasy world of
Mistress Adira’s dungeon . . .