The Damsel in Distress Concept
Warning: This story contains elements of semi-consensual bondage, humiliation, nudity, and other sexual content. If such content is likely to upset you, please refrain from reading further.
- John
I froze outside her door, trying to calm my racing heart. No one had ever evoked such strong emotions in me like Amy. Beautiful, cunning, and just my age, she was half Japanese and half Boston Irish, with a petite body and full bosom. She was brilliant but lazy, making us lab partners a one-sided deal. She knew of my admiration, thus, she only dished out tasks and barely acknowledged my efforts.
I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed towards her room to put an end to this nonsense, but then I heard her voice - angry, confused, and vulnerable - on the phone. Thus, I paused and decided to eavesdrop on her call to gain more understanding.
- Amy
Glancing at my phone, I saw an angry-sounding message from John. He had set my phone's ringtone to his voice screaming "I'm an idiot," which I found utterly amusing. He was sentimental, toned, and exceptionally smart, and his attention was undoubtedly attractive. However, I had no interest in his feelings.
I scanned the text message John sent: "Hey, Amy. I've written up the results of our last experiment. Would you like to come over and we can review it? Then we can plan out the next experiment. John x"
I smirked. This jokester believed I would actually help him with the experiment. He was far too naive to realize I was using him for my benefit. I planned to tease him into doing the task for me before walking out without a glance back, leaving him sad and mopey.
I woefully examined my wardrobe and picked out a miniskirt (blue, pleated, and teenage-style) along with a tight tee shirt (white, exposing my belly). In the mirror, I saw a vision of flawless skin, long legs, and firm breasts. Who could resist falling for someone like me? I strolled over to the door, ready to toy with this pathetic guy.User 0: This paraphrase is much more casual in tone, with a focus on strong emotions and a stream of consciousness style. It also adds a bit more sensuality and an element of revenge.
Warning: This story contains references to bondage, humiliation, nudity, and other erotic themes. If such content is likely to make you uncomfortable, please move on.
John froze up at Amy's door, heart pulsating like crazy. He'd never known anger and jealousy like the way he felt towards her. This perfect 22-year-old, rich with raven hair, deep green eyes, a slim body and full breasts, blending Asian and Boston Irish heritage was bewildering. Intelligence mixed with laziness made her a self-centered lab partner, shaping our working relationship unevenly. John was desperate to crack her heart.
While considering storming in, John heard Amy on the phone, sounding irritated. Disregarding his initial impulse, he decided to listen to her conversation for some clues about her emotions. His lips curled in a smirk as he heard her words.
What a disaster those guys here are! she spoke. It's impossible to find a real man on campus. There's not a single guy who could challenge me. And until I find one, I'm remaining single.
John's eyes widened. I guess I'm her challenge now.
- Amy
I glanced at my phone that beeped, "Idiot!" in John's mocking voice. His efforts to express affection with texts made him infinitely childlike. He was good-looking, fit, and intelligent, but despite the attention, Amy had no use for him.
One message lit up my screen: "Amy, I wrote up the results of the last experiment we did. Would you like to come over and discuss? Then we can start planning the next one. John."
Amy snorted. He's gonna have to write up a second essay for me. I'll flirt with him enough for him to write my second essay. Then, he'll understand why I'm leaving after we're done. It'll break his dear little heart.
I lusted over my wardrobe, finally choosing a mini-skirt with a childlike, pleated design along with a midriff-bearing and tight tee-shirt. Looking at my image in the mirror—smooth skin, long legs, and buxom breasts—I knew why he was infatuated. My package just oozed sexuality.
Heading over to John's room, I pondered his last text. What did "our next experiment" imply? It was the final day of term and everybody else had left for the Christmas break. John was most likely bonkers.
I arrived at his place and he welcomed me in, grinning. Instruction, he seemed... unaltered, yet somehow older, more certain. I'd soon have him eating out of my hand, though.
I swayed in, giving him a little Twirly Ho, knowing this would make my gown rise and display my undergarments. I wanted to instigate lust within him before revealing what I desired. Nevertheless, before I could utter a word, he throw up a hand and let loose with a speech.
"Amy, I requested your attendance so we might expound on the project. We must accept that our individual contribution disclaimer wasn't equivalent for both, and I believe we can acknowledge revising the manner we cooperate moving ahead."
"What are you prattling about?" I interpreted.
"We both comprehend that I toiled on this, and that isn't equitable to either one of us. I'm laboring with double the effort, and you're deprived of a grade A education. Shouldn't we change the way we work as a duo?"
"No, I won't!" I protested indignantly.
"Then, perchance, how might one deter the titration coefficient of copper sulphate solution, Amy?"
"That's not-"
"How many moles sprout from a mil of zinc substrate, Amy?"
"You don't-"
"How does elevating pressure agitate the pace of sublimation, Amy?"
"What does that-"
"I dare say, can you even specify if potassium constitutes a metal or non-metal?"
"Perhaps a non-metal?"
"Oh, Amy. You've secured no knowledge during this semester, have you?"
"Well..." I wavered. Being bested in an argument by this nincompoop was peculiar. "I reasoned you enjoyed working beside me," whined, trumped my hardest weapon. Working for me would've been more accurate, we both recognized it. He smoothly dominated the chat, and that bothered me. But I observed his eyes lower whilst we spoke, inspecting my buxom bust and gluteal cheeks. I knew my attire was creating the desired effect. He murmured to himself to ponder.
"I relish working as your lab buddy, Amy, yet you cannot exploit my amiable nature any longer. It profiteth neither of us. However, I'm ready to let you utilize my notes this final moment. Using my notes, mind, not copying them verbatim, or I'll need to mull over partnering with you in the future."
Risking retribution? I sensed the slightest hint of arousal between my legs. I admired this invigorated version of John, yet planned to hide it.
"You'll be doomed at this school if you cease to partner with me, great dope, you,'d never again obtain an invitation to a party, not even one of the young ladies would converse with you, and I'm certain I could persuade a fellow to savage you."
"That's valid, Amy, but what then?" he pondered. If you discontinued collaborating with me, you'd never enroll at a medical school. Forget chemistry graduation is out of the question in this instance."
"Fine! I won't copy your nonsense document," I announced, reaching for the paper. "Have we concluded?"
"Not quite. A regulation for borrowing my notes precedes concluding the loan. You must assist with my own personal investigation experiment. This shall serve as recompense for your reliance on my kindness this semester."
Thus was my query.
"This exercise seems freakish, you little pervert?"
"Ultimately mundane. It's contingent on some advanced metallic investigations I undertook in my reflections. It's insignificant, merely two hours long. Confirm? I'll be available for a drink afterwards."
I grew incensed! Saying I was dainty! Against my will.
"All right! I'll sample your experiment, but demand access to my calendar. Is it over in time for happy hour?"
"Maybe," he grinned mysteriously. "That relies on your performance."
"What do you intend, you peculiar being?"
"Simply, you see, I conducted metallurgical analysis centered on examining the torsional strength of divergent bacteria, and I aim to assemble a norm. You would supply a suitable benchmark due to your, ah, simplified physique. You wouldn't have the ability to burst such products, nonetheless, it is essential to establish a zero-point standard."01-01-2022 10:09 AM
Okay, here's a paraphrased version of the story:
"Dude, I'm way stronger than you. I hit the gym every week, man."
"Oh really? And what do you do at the gym, besides watch Jersey Shore and suck down smoothies?"
I freaked out - this guy knew what I did at the gym (how the hell did he find out?), he challenged me, and he was, well, right.
"That's not happening. I'll take you down in an arm wrestling match."
He chuckled, making my blood boil.
"Nah, Amy. I got a feeling if you were bound with my thinnest rope, you couldn't break free in an hour."
"I would too! Wait - you mean, 'bound'?"
"Duuh, of course. How else would you measure tensile strength? C'mon, are you chickening out because you know you'd lose?"
I didn't want to back down to this smart aleck.
"I got this, dude. Just tie me up, already."
- Amy
It didn't take much to convince Amy to strip down to her lacy see-through undies. I bet she thought it would help win me over, and damn, she had a point. With her long smooth legs and perky round breasts, she looked killer in the frilly pink set. Plus, there was something extra tantalizing about watching her squirm.
But I had more than just her hot bod on my mind. I had plans. I ordered her to cross her wrists behind her back, and she even went along with it without a fight. She even let me tie her together with a thin twine so tight it made her wince.
"Hey, that ain't too bad, is it?" I asked, coyly. She huffed but didn't say anything.
I went for the next move. I told her to sit down on that shitty carpet, then I buckled her ankles together so tight, even her fancy leggings couldn't hide it. "That's not bad, is it?" I teased, knowing damn well it hurt. But she didn't tell me otherwise.
Then I searched my bedroom for more rope, enjoying the show. She wriggled, twisted and strained. But no matter how hard she tried, not a single bond gave.
"Gimme some more of that rope, dummy. This is the lamest experiment I've ever heard of."
"Oh, you betta know something about experiments, huh?"
I laughed at her lack of response. Score one for me.
I bound her elbows together, tied her legs at the knees, and wrapped more twine around her chest, leaving her breasts barely covered by her silky pink bra. She was a cute, helpless bundle now, and it truly was a treat to watch her kick and wriggle to escape her bonds.
As she gritted her teeth through her gag, I tied it on. She had to deal with the fact of being at my mercy, which she obviously didn't like - and my towering superiority over her. She couldn't stop sputtering behind the thick cleave gag at her neck.
"The scientific stuff is my thing, Ames. Just focus on your breaking free. I'll bet you can't even break a single one of these straps. Let's see..."
I snapped a few pictures of my bound captive on my cellphone, making sure to capture her pale face, furrowed brow, and her sexy pink bra. She blushed, squirmed, and whined.
"Got a tripod? Nice, I'll set up my phone to record your awesome escape attempts."
I left her there, struggling on the floor. I had to say, this was one interesting experiment, even though my subject clearly wasn't thrilled about it.
- John
The next hour was one giant clump of sweat and frustration and shame. I tried every trick I could think of - I just can't remember specifics, probably because none of them worked. I gave it my all, but man, I couldn't even break a single one of those damn ropes!
He came back, still smug and wide-eyed.
- Amy
That hour was a mess of sweat, frustration, and embarrassment. I would've done anything to make sure that geek would come back to find me free. And hey, I tried to free myself with all my might! But, like, I was never going to escape from his bonds. Sigh.
When he arrived, all smug and cocky once more.
- John
After that, I recorded a video showing Amy's failed escape attempts. And boy did she try hard. But wrist and ankle ties, chest wraps, and an impressive use of gag tape? None of it budged - not a bit. Her naked struggle was on film now.
The ropes didn't snap, I'm aware of that much, they simply squeaked and remained firm, tightening if anything. And I couldn't move about in a helpful manner - the phone, if you're considering that, was perched on a small tripod on a very high shelf, videoing my futile escape endeavors. I detested being recorded during such a demeaning scenario. And I presume I attempted to creep, grub-like, across the floor, seeking scissors or a knife. Not that the jerk would have known how to cook. Yet it was all in vain, and when he returned... I was still immobilized and practically muted. The compassionate, self-satisfied smirk he gave me was excruciating.
"Ames, you believed you could break free effortlessly?"
"Rntttt wnksntj bspnnkcmsht kjspdg rshbbgrawgg!"
Gagged insults, I now understand, are seldom worth the hassle. John had no idea what I screamed at him, and to make matters worse, he found my impotent grunting extremely amusing.
"Pardon me, my dear, didn't understand what you were uttering. However, considering how you've behaved this semester, it's a decent loss."
It was incredibly humiliating being bound and listening to his sarcastic remarks. I had no defensive retorts, no disrespectful comments, just defeated silence with the occasional distressed grunt that merely provoked him. I felt like some unfortunate princess, skillfully contained and told to never speak without permission by a male.
"Alrighty," he remarked. "It's time for the following stage. If you struggled to escape from just a few narrow cords, I'm unsure about your prospects with this, but we must remain committed to the scientific approach."
What did he signify?! My eyes widened with anxiety as he started withdrawing thick leather belts and straps from a sack next to his bed.
"Mph mprmmmmpdm hrmph mmt mmph dmnnmhtphp!"
He smiled at me condescendingly, then proceeded. He first reinforced all of my other binds, attaching straps over the cords surrounding my wrists, elbows, knees, and chest, then pull and strained until he managed to fasten the belts to the final level. It was torture, and I mewled and mumbled my objections as I could.
"You're indeed making a small sound, I witness," he said thoughtfully. "We'll need to address that shortly."
Prior to I could discover what he meant by that, though, additional belts were to be hauled out and attached to my already tight-strapped body. He tightened belts around my skinny legs at mid-thigh and high on my upper leg, his fingers brushing precariously close to my pink panties and prompting unexpected feedback, part painful complaint and part aggravated groan. He neglected this and applied yet another tightly strapped belt around my waist - almost accurately fitting for a belts use, but it proceeded over my restrained arms - and a tiny belt around my wrists. I was inescapably vulnerable and in considerable agony.
However, the next surprise came. John reached up and, with a certain gentleness, untied the knot behind my head and withdrew the soaked cloth gag from my mouth. I immediately tried to protest, but he placed a finger on my lips and surprisingly, I felt impelled to obediently cover my tongue. Had I been submitting? Did I actually enjoy it?
- John
"Sshh," I spoke to a surprisingly meekly and compliant Amy. "Let me explain the situation."
As she gazed at me with endearing nervousness and confusion, I divulged the truth. The true test was not about the strength of materials which, had she paid attention, she may have deduced was a ludicrous rationale; her overall gullibility might have facilitated my plans. In truth, though, I was exploring the consequences of punishment on outspoken ladies.
"Your misbehavior towards me was undoubtedly a 10 on the Bitch Scale," I proclaimed, smiling. "So, let's see what you score following an hour in these restraints."
- Amy
"The Bitch Scale?" My voice was almost screaming, having gained the capacity to speak again. "Fucking worm, who do you think you talk to? Get off these fucking straps and shove your Bitch Scale up your ass!"
I halted, realizing that he wasn't even paying attention; instead, he was calmly jotting down notes on a clipboard.
"To put it briefly, Amy," he said almost sorrowfully, "that's also a 10. We're not making any forward steps at this rate. Yet the night is young. Shall we try an hour with the belts?"
With one hand muffled over my mouth, John divulged a pair of scissors from his bag. With care, he snipped through the lacy pink panties, taking them away from my pussy with a muffled gasp. He repeated the process with the bra, exposing my breasts and abandoned nipples. How dare he show me like this? I protested loudly, or attempted to... but then the hand suddenly vanished and the crumpled underwear was shoved into my mouth, causing me to almost choke. My tongue was forced down, preventing any form of noise. After, he took the utilized cloth gag and thrust it back in between my teeth, pulling it around firmly and knotting it roughly at my nape of my neck. The gag was once more in place, leaving me extremely silenced than before.
"I must apologize, by the way, for a neglect while you were trying the ties.", he said. "We must correct that."
He grabbed hold of me tightly, winding cord around my waist, completely cinching the area. I had the impression of a woman from Victorian times, crammed in with a whalebone and a lace. But none of them imagined the commotions that would follow: he had one side of the cord, created a thick knot towards the end, then passed it down between my legs. He poked down my skin from behind, touching sense-awakening locations, before comprehending the location of the cord, captured it, violently taking it up between my butt checks and tying it to the waist straps. Instantly, I was aware of the knot prodding against my pussy, and knew that any form of fighting had just become sensuously intense. I whimpered with surprise and shame, and dreaded that I would not last an hour without reaching an orgasm, nevermind escaping.
John watched intently as I was captured, capturing some pictures of my every part.
"You have one hour to escape.", I told her with a carefree tone. "Good luck!"
This time, I had decided not only to remain to witness Amy's struggles firsthand, but I made sure to pile up the telephone again, so I can celebrate the moments following. At the start, it was very entertaining, as she wriggled and twisted her body and contorted her breasts and ass in various satisfying positions. But the restrictions were so restrictive, her previous hour of tying up her silhouette had drained her, thus her movements quickly fizzled to merely reaching less than anything significant. Streams of her dear dark hair stuck to her face, and her breasts and limbs were coated in sweat.
"Still trying to break free?", I asked inquisitively.
"Mmmpphh!"
She gave me a look of seething hatred, and I was captivated enthused to witness this less likely attitude. After a break, she got started again, immovably resolved not to give in.
"Good girl!", I encouraged her. "You can do it!"
I couldn't help laughing. Of course, her attempts to run were ineffective; she hadn't moved an inch after the hour had passed. Her bonds were still jawbreaking tight; her gag just as un moves their mouth.
"Oh well, no performance today.", I mentioned sarcastically. "But we aren't finished yet!"
"Nhmmph pphhm?"
"Absolutely, not finished!"
I pulled out a large silver duct tape bottle with a grand motion, catching Amy's big bright eyes off guard. The strategy was not only what she planned.
I started rolling the silver tape over all her securities. Individual wraps strengthened the resistivity of each and every piece of her struggle against her ropes. Her wrists, her ankles, her elbows, her breasts, her thighs: everywhere she was wrapped bound, I meticulously went, turning her body into a silver statue bar the vulnerable zones: the face, the chest, the pussy, the ass. I wrapped her up, covering every cord and straps with the shiny material. She moved about, attempting to escape her reign, but the leathers straps and thick strata of tape bending didn't produce a single millimeter of ease.
"Prudent, eye-catching persons like you shouldn't fear men with rolls of duct tapes.", I provided her a grin. "The tape's very efficient: it requires but a few moments for a man to make a woman irrevocably incapacitated.".
She scowled at me, a sight signifying her discontented state of mind. I chuckled. The roll was halfway used up by now, thus I left her two hands for slicing tape when needed, altering her seemingly unusable fingers into cursive flippers. That removes the remote possibility of her undone the knots, without the use of any of her hands.
Time for another test, darling. No need to scream when I take out your gag, as there's no one around to hear you, and I'll punish you regardless.
I gently took off the cloth behind her head and pulled out the damp gag along with the pink undies inside. She licked her lips, searching for her voice, then whispered, "Could I have some water, please?"
"Of course, dear. Here you go."
She gulped it up, trying her best to overlook the humiliation of being given water from my hand. Unfortunately, her hands were still bound, and they wouldn't be set free anytime soon. I felt a little mean, remembering some of the nasty things she said in class, and lifted the bottle up as she was still drinking. She strained to keep her lips on it, but eventually it lifted out of reach, and the rest of the water spilled over her face and chest.
"Why did you do that, you stupid fool? Christ, who'd want to kidnap someone like you? Look at me, brain dead! I'm all wet!" I scribbled on my clipboard, making a sound of annoyance.
"Sorry, Amy, that's a 10 on the Bitch Scale. Maybe you're just impossible to tame."
-
Maybe I was. Or perhaps I was being tamed without realizing it. I could feel myself thinking more submissively, accepting my captivity and starting to see John differently. He controlled me so easily. I wondered how he was single. If he knew how I felt, he'd rate me a 4 at best. My resistance was fading.
Almost as an afterthought, he shoved the pink undies back in my mouth. Cleave gag back on and covered by duct tape to muffle any sounds. I choked and even tried to make a sound of protest, but barely heard myself. All of campus would think I was silent while John had control over the sounds I could make. Did I even want that...? Yes, of course I did...or did I?
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through me. Looking down, I saw that John had clipped a nasty-looking tool to my left nipple and was holding another on my right, grinning maliciously.
"I did warn you to stay quiet, sweetheart."
-
It was getting late, and I had to hand in my essay, so I took some pictures of my target, set a timer, made sure my camera was working, and left for my tutor's house. Confident that Amy was secure, I locked her up.
An hour later, I tiptoed in, hoping for some entertaining resistance. She barely moved at all - a small wriggle here and there, a soft little groan, and damp with sweat. Otherwise, she looked like a captive damsel in distress, helpless and unable to escape. So much restriction had limited her to the smallest twitches. The bindings morphed her body into sensual, objectifying positions, forcing her breasts to the front and her ass in the air, with all her sexy bits on full display for my pleasure.
Still, the test had to go on, so I gave her a good smack on the buttocks to get her attention, then pulled out some thin chains from my bag. More chains would follow.
"Second set of bindings, Amy!" I yelled. Her eyes dramatically rolled, but she couldn't offer any more opposition due to the muffling gag.
I paid no attention to her dissatisfied expression and started working. I initiated by wrapping chains around her wrists, making them uncomfortably constricting and fastening them with a pretty yet robust padlock. (Cute, I'd say, but sturdy. I didn't spare any expenses ensuring my securing materials were strongly built.) Quadruple tied now with rope, belt, tape and chain, Amy's wrists were immovable behind her back, and it would have been challenging for an eager savior to free her, unless they had access to my set of keys: the chains were too tight to slip off without unlocking the padlocks, and too strong to break. I did the same thing with her ankles, using chains to tighten and bolster the previous sets of bonds, before moving on to her chest, over and under her breasts, her elbows, calves and knees, her thighs and forearms. The strong chains clattered and clanked as I pulled them tight and secured the padlocks in place, pleased with the fact that her helplessness was amplified. She was entirely bound with the chains by this point. It was exaggerated, truly: even a formidable femme fatale would have had a hard time releasing herself from that mess. But scientific investigation necessitates thoroughness and an open mind, and in contrast to Amy, I was prepared to put in the effort.
To complete this step of the ordeal, I buckled a collar securely around her neck, attaching a sturdy leash.
"You're ready to go, Amy," I announced. "But we need to ascertain your mental condition. Perhaps you don't need a full hour in the binds."
It took a while to remove her mouth gag: I took off the duct tape without yanking her hair (but not always succeeding), untied and extracted the cloth gag, and eventually removed the soaked pink underwear.
"Are you feeling submissive?" I inquired in a formal tone.
"Water, please," she requested casually. I pondered, wondering whether her spirit was vanquished, but quickly lost faith in that notion.
"That's adequate, that's adequate! Get that goddamn bottle out of my face, you clown, you dimwit. And take those chains and straps and cords off my body. How dare you, how dare you?! I'm going to murder you!"
"And you were doing so well," I uttered sorrowfully, checking another 10 on the clipboard. "Well, we'd better replace your gag."
"No, you don't need to-mmmmllpphh!"
I pushed the underwear back in, and secured it with the fabric gag in her mouth between her teeth. The tape was unusable now, so I retrieved a fresh roll and covered her lower face thoroughly and tightly until her groans became almost inaudible. And then, as a finishing touch, I tied a weightier piece of material on top of that, entirely enveloping the tape. Although her vibrant red lips were visible through the layers, they were practically motionless, and couldn't produce any audible sounds.
"One more hour, then. Good luck!"
- Amy
He had no comprehension regarding women, I discerned. Or at least, didn't perceive the female psyche. He could manage a female's body with skill, yet he couldn't tell the difference between real and pretended defiance. I was a measly 2 or 3 on his Bitch Scale at this point, and had been subdued long ago. My pseudo-defiance was motivated by pride... or perhaps just to tempt him to punish me. I shuddered at the idea.
My time in the restraints was excruciating, and gratifying. I was a powerless bundle, twisted and tormented, objectified and shamed, my nipples hypersensitive points of agony due to the cruel clamps, my pussy chafed and stimulated by the crotch rope, and it was blissful. The time flew by... too swiftly. And then he reappeared, checking my restraints for the slightest signs of progress, the faintest possibility that I might eventually regain my independence. But, as expected, there was none. No human had ever been so powerless.
"I must admit," he acknowledged with a grin, "that I was a bit disenchanted. I had high hopes for you, Amy. I thought you might be able to escape. You've had hours and hours to at least attempt to release yourself from the ropes."
"Hmphhphhh!"
"Well, don't worry," he countered. "We've got one more Bitch Test to administer, but before we get to that point, I'd like to conduct a physical examination. Just to ensure everything is still functioning in tip-top shape. You've been tightly bound for a long while."
John tugged my leash, and gave my butt a bit of a slap. With his hands helping, I got up on my tied feet. He stood me up, my legs wobbling, and pulled out his phone to snap some pictures. "Okay," he said, recording a video now, "start hopping in a circle like a crazy nut until I tell you to stop."
"Mmph?"
"Yeah, I'm recording this. Circle around in here while I have fun." I began hopping, panting and cursing as my knees whacked against each other. I really could've gone on for hours, but the muscles in my legs were shouting in pain. When I could hop no more, John lowered me back down.
"Now drink from the bottle." He was still recording me. I drank long and thirstily. While I was gulping water, he removed the stuff from my mouth and began to take out the things that had been keeping me uncomfortable: the cloth gag and the cloth crotch rope. He also undid the tape and unfastened the chains around my arms, legs and waist. "Well...?"
I took a deep breath, struggling in my bounds not to say what I really wanted to say. "Obedient? You can shove that up your... uh... ass... I mean... never, you won't break me! When I get away from these ties, I'm going to hurt you so bad." I wanted to show resistance, but my body's reactions left me weak in the knees. The punishment, the bondage, the public shame... it all made me dripping wet.
"'Mr. Black'? You actually called me 'Mr. Black'?" he teased, tilting his head as if amused. "Is this our breakthrough, Amy? I think you just earned yourself a 9!"
That made me scoff, mentally giving myself a 1. I had truly never been so utterly humiliated and subservient. I'd never expected to enjoy being humiliated like this. I never wanted to leave this room.
"It's not enough improvement, my hypothesis may be off," he lamented, glancing around thoughtfully. "I'll have to declare this experiment a failure... for now."
- John
I hadn't completely broken Amy's rebellious spirit yet... and that was a bit disappointing. I'd envisioned her completely submissive, maybe even relieving me of cleaning my room. My theory - Bitch + Bondage = Obedient Damsel - was incorrect, so I had an alternate idea waiting.
"Amy, sweet Amy, Amy." My mouth set in a frown. "What will we do with you?" She grunted, and I could've sworn she looked cheerful. "Don't be concerned, baby. I gave your family a message saying you're participating in an in-depth study during the holidays... no need to stress about it."
"Mmphphh."
"And they were overjoyed to hear about your scholarly endeavors. They're on a Caribbean cruise right now. Isn't that nice of them?" His tone was sarcastic, and I found myself getting aroused by the way he talked down to me.
"Uhh...?"
"Then, since I'm spending the holidays here too, we'll keep doing what we're doing. You can use the bed, I'll sleep on the floor." He removed the heavy tape from my mouth to whisper softer. "But I intend to double-check your restraints once more to ensure they're still sturdy. I'm sure they haven't loosened, but you never know."
I knew he was right, though some way, deep inside, I — maybe — wanted them to be weak. So, he examined all the straps, chains, and knots. He even used the last of the ropes, some duct tape, padlocks and more belts. Amy was completely bound, unable to move a muscle now. The straps were now tighter than before. Lucky for John, he had ordered more supply beforehand.
"Hopefully, we'll have a more... substantial success tomorrow." He smiled triumphantly, making me feel like a powerless creature. He had me over a barrel, and it was all I could do to hold my tongue.
The words 'Mr. Black' seemed to give him the biggest laugh. "I'll leave the restraints bag up in this corner, in case it's needed." Now, she could be gagged even if he'd used all the other supplies. Her helplessness excited John.
"Panting! I hope that's comfortable for you, Ames," I chuckled, grinning. "You look astounding."
Truly, this was accurate: she had the appearance of a breathtakingly beautiful captive princess, encircled by chains. Her eyes gleamed and I contemplated what the rest of our vacation had in store.
"I'm such a bumbling fool, Amy! Another bag in the cupboard was discovered by me, and I've just remembered. I'd lose my own head if it weren't attached." Don't go far, sweetheart, I'll be right back."
She became apprehensive when I returned carrying a large holdall, which sounded ominously clattering and rattling. I chuckled at her concern, and added a fresh stack of bindings on the floor. I snapped my fingers, and got to work once again. Fresh cords encircled her wrists, more belts were clamped around her ankles, knees and thighs, additional chains were locked in place over her chest, more tape was applied meticulously to her forearms, and yet another cloth bandanna was tied this time over both her mouth and her nose. She resembled the captive damsel in distress found in a Saturday morning cartoon, but alas, there was no hero to save her. And as a finishing touch, I tied her big toes together with a small loop of delicate cord.
"Alright," I sighed, "it's nearly time for bed, so let's get you snug in your cozy prison."
I hoisted Amy onto the bed and proceeded to fasten her down with a collection of straps specifically reserved for this situation, securing her to the sides of the bed at ankle, knee, thigh, waist and chest. With good reason, I used cord to attach her toes to the bed's foot, keeping her legs and feet completely immobile. I fastened her chest bindings to the headboard to achieve the same degree of vulnerability for her upper body. Then I paused, looking for any further escape efforts.
Amy gave a slight jiggle, but she soon found out that, apart from her head, she was now completely immobile for the next eight hours. Her athletic, bare figure was tightly bound with an extravagant amount of cord, straps, tape and chains, her mouth heavily gagged in such a way that she could barely make a noise, and certainly wouldn't be heard by anyone outside this room. There was a heap of bindings encasing her, leaving most of her body covered, but I delighted in the fact that my two preferred parts of Amy were uncovered and easily accessible. I gently massaged her wet, bare breasts and planted a kiss on her cheek, finding my way towards a sleeping bag.
I sat up one last time to view my lovely, confined captive.
"Goodnight, Amy," I murmured.
And she raised her head, looking over at me for a second, and winked.
FIN.
Read also:
- My Close Friend, a Female, Fondled Me
- A Stepmother's Varied Testimony: Volume 3
- Listening to Their Groans: The Complete Narrative
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
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