Exerpt from “An Easy Job” #1 May 1993
Copyright Felix Dartmouth, 1998.
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Angelica felt that she had triumphed by having only her wrists restrained, and then only in front of her as she was lead off by the prison officers. Her mind was changed when she saw the dingy army-green vehicle in which she was to be transported. Her arms were held tightly as she was lead to the back where the door was unbolted. The woman gripped her hair tightly, and the man stepped into the van, and emerged with a human body length canvas bag.
Angelica instantly knew its purpose, and she shouted “No”, but it was to no avail. The bag was instantly sacked over her head, and over her protesting handcuffs and taken down to her ankles and belted shut. There was an opening for her head, and when her black curls had found their way through, a belt was tightened about her
throat. Screaming, Angelica was lifted into the van and taken into one of the small lockers that were on either side of the van. A dim bulb was at the top of the three by three foot locker, and Angelica, bagged in this canvas body sheath was clipped by two points to the sides of the locker, and then a strap was tightened about her body, pinning her wrists to her sides and preventing her from removing the small tight clips that Jim had placed on her nipples.
Alexis, with her wrists bound behind her back, roped up to her shoulders, and ball-gagged – illustration inspired by An Easy Job, a bondage text file by Felix DartmouthShe then felt a metal brank lowered over her head and inserted into her mouth. The device prevented her from turning her head from side to side, and also prevented her from closing or opening her mouth, much less speech.
She was stunned at the treatment that she had been accorded, and hearkened back to the night before with Jim where she had felt that she had been so cruelly mistreated, spending the night bound and gagged. The locker door slammed shut as it was locked, the light above her head turned off, leaving her in stifling darkness. She fought off the panic she felt in the darkness, and reminded herself of an airplane lavatory, where, when it was locked, the light turned on. Here, when the locker was locked, the light turned off. She was a little amused that she should be thinking about airlines, as her freedom and her profession seemed so far away.
Maintaining her balance as the van went through various twists and turns through the streets, Angelica heard other women also captured, bagged, lockered and branked into the stuffy confines of the Mexican paddy wagon.
Ultimately, the van pulled up to a halt, and after some shuffling as the other female prisoners were extracted from their lockers, Angelica was released from her brank and pulled out of the small enclosure still encased in the canvas bag. Able to take small tentative steps, Angelica was pulled forward after she was lifted off of the van onto a foreboding walkway.
There were several other women, all in similar canvas body sheaths, and they all looked young and attractive. There was one blonde; the rest were brunettes like Angelica. All were pushed into a holding cell and the door was closed and locked. Several of the women were sobbing and their faces were wet with tears with makeup streaking. One of the women, the blonde, was ball-gagged. Angelica guessed that she must have been particularly recalcitrant during her arrest to have been so treated.
“What are you in here for?” asked one of the girls to Angelica. Angelica did not see how it would be to her advantage to tell her the truth. “I really don’t know why I’m here. They just came with a warrant for my arrest. I don’t even know what I’m charged with.”
“I’m afraid that I know what I’m charged with. I wrote a check to the supermarket that bounced. I got the notice from the bank just yesterday. I was going to go take care of it, but the first thing I know, the police are at the door with their straps. My husband was frantic! Both the kids were there, and they saw them strapping me up. I hope he gets me out soon, but I’ve heard sometimes that takes several days for just processing. This is just a nightmare!”
Angelica felt sorry for the attractive young woman, whose head poked out for the canvas enclosure that she was strapped into. There were many things about Mexico that Angelica hated, and the lack of due process was one of them.
In the U.S., you might be arrested, handcuffed and taken down to the police station, but in Mexico, you are presumed guilty and are taken directly to the prison, and from there, it is an administrative nightmare to get out.
The door opened, and a heavyset woman guard entered, carrying a mass of chains and leather straps.
One by one, she approached the ladies, and extricated them from their canvas sheaths.
The girl that Angelica had been talking to was first, and Angelica was surprised to see that when the canvas was removed, the girl was dressed in no more that a thin camisole and panties, and high heels. Her small but firm breasts were pulled tight by the manner in which her hands had been strapped by a plastic band behind her back.
This reminded Angelica of the way that Stacy had boarded the jet where Jim had recruited her into this bondage situation. Those plastic strips with the one way ratchets must be an extremely convenient restraint device, and easy to carry as well. Angelica imagined what it must have been like for this young woman, at home in bed with her husband wearing a sexy outfit, hoping for his attentions when the knock on the door came. The police no doubt forced their way in, and did not even allow her the opportunity to get dressed under their leering supervision. (She flashed back to the Bogart-style detective movies where, when a beautiful young villainess was taken into custody, she was told to “pack your lipstick” before the handcuffs and leg irons were applied.) Instead, as soon as they saw their object of detention, they pulled out the polyethylene strap and grabbed the woman, holding her wrists behind her as the ratchets on the strap were closed, binding her hands together palm to palm behind her. Then, they reluctantly allowed her to put on black high heel pumps before taking her out into the street in her revealing outfit in front of her children, husband and all the neighbors in her no doubt crowded apartment complex (Angelica knew that only a very few could afford a single-family home in Mexico City).
When the young lady in the camisole had stepped clear of the canvas bag, the matron took a collar from the pile of chain and leather at her feet, and drew it about the hot check writer’s throat, and strapped it on. A small lock was then produced, affixed to the collar at the back of the neck, and the young woman was collared for the duration of her stay, whether it was three days, or thirty years. Next a leather strap was encircled about her elbows and they were drawn and strapped together.
The procedure was repeated with all the women, and Angelica watched to see how each of the women was dressed to see just what type of people were in the prison with her. She expected them all to be dressed poorly, in work clothes or the like, but as each was unbagged, she saw a variety of attractive clothing, and suspected that this round of arrests was for a special type of crime, rather than theft, drug dealing, prostitution, or the like.
The attractive blonde, with carefully curled hair, wore a flowing red silk dress that would have been at home in an office or in a social meeting. Her wrists and elbows were tightly bound together with thin cord, and she was obviously in pain after her ordeal in the canvas transportation bag. She bit her full lower lip in frustration as she was collared and not rebound in handcuffs, polyethylene strap or some more humane restraint. She was perspiring, and as she tried to shake her blonde curls from her eyes, some of her hair clung to the sweat on her cheeks. The matron moved the hair from her eyes as she locked the collar tightly onto her throat. Angelica imagined her apprehension. In a meeting at a Catholic Church for the Sunday School teachers, two officers, one of them a woman walked in with the Father of the church. He seemed embarrassed, and he was wringing his hands.
“These two officers need to see you,” he said to her, as though betraying her with a kiss.
The officers seized her silk covered arms as she rose, indicating that they possessed a warrant for her arrest, but not indicating what she was to be charged with. The other women in the group were horrified, but sympathetic, as tears flowed from the eyes of the lovely blonde in red. Her wrists were held behind her by the woman officer as the male pulled out a ball of thin cord and a pocketknife and cut a length for her wrists then herelbows, putting this length, a longer one over his shoulder. Her wrists were tightly bound and cinched, then her elbows were cinched as well. Sobbing the woman in silk was dragged from the Church to the Mexico Prison for Women.
One woman in a business suit seemed especially out of place. She kept her face expressionless, submitting wordlessly as she was unbagged and rebound by the stout matron. She wore a light brown suit with a pink ruffled blouse. Her light brown hair fell just to her shoulders, carefully trimmed to be neat, but feminine. She had been restrained in a rather discreet manner. Her wrists were taken into handcuffs and chained about her waist in front of her. The waist chain, however, was drawn underneath her jacket, and the buttons were fastened both above and below her handcuffs, which were very tightly fastened just below her wrist bones and above her hand bones.
Continuing her considerations of the fate of her fellow prisoners, Angelica, in her own canvas, leather and steel strappings and tormented by her nipple clips imagined this young lady pulled out of a board meeting, and talking the arresting officers into binding her in this manner, perhaps with her even suggesting the wrist chain as additional security as a compromise.
She was collared and locked and the handcuffs were then removed as was her waist belt and her jacket was pulled off and tossed onto the cell floor.
Her pink ruffled blouse was surprisingly revealing, having a lace brocade revealing her cleavage. The blouse was sheer, and it reminded Angelica of her own stewardesses uniform in that all the underclothes, the bra and slip straps, were clearly revealed. The matron quickly bound the businesswoman’s wrists behind her, then she fashioned a rope shoulder harness by passing rope behind her neck and knotting it between her shoulders. The rope was then passed down to her wrists and they were drawn up to the middle of her back.
The woman winced, but did not protest. Her jacket was picked up from the floor, and stuffed between her bound arms. It was fine there, and it would be dealt with later.
The ball gagged woman was next, then Angelica. When the canvas was removed from the lady with the mouth stuffing, Angelica was shocked to see that she was completely nude and bound tightly with rope at the elbows, wrists, and with rope tightly encircling her torso above and below her ample breasts, with a cord passing down through her crotch area and back up to a tight knot at her wrists.
She was weeping, but seemed a bit calmed that the canvas was removed.
The woman in the red remarked to the young lady in the business outfit that she felt lucky that she was at least brought clothed to the prison.
A swift reprimand from the matron silenced her chatter.
Angelica herself was taken and stripped of the canvas sheath that constrained her, and all there (that were prisoners) were surprised to see that she had simply been handcuffed with her wrists in front of her. The businesswoman who had been brought in handcuffed had the additional security of having the restraint chain about her waist.
This did not last long, however, as the handcuffs were immediately unlocked and replaced by thin cord that bound her wrists and elbows tightly behind her, similar to the woman dressed in the red silk. Angelica’s blue chiffon dress with the shirred shoulders compared favorably with the outfits of some of the other women, although she found it amusing that she was comparing herself to bound prisoners in the Mexico Prison for Women.
As she took a step, a hand grasped her by her black tresses and bent her over for the collar. It was tightly affixed, so that it was slightly uncomfortable for her to swallow. The lock was snicked into place.
A thin chain was drawn through the collars of all the women, and they were lead down a dark army green hallway. The woman in the business suit, her wrists now drawn up tightly by her improvised shoulder harness, lost her cool composure and broke down into a weak sob.
The women filed past cell after cell, all with women bound and gagged, looking with relative envy at those that would be joining them, but who now at least were given the pleasure of walking and wearing street clothes.
After four sets of iron gates had mechanically and noisily shut behind them, they were lined up in front of a long counter.
“Here you will be stripped and searched,” said the matron, loudly to all.
Each woman, chained onto the coffle was confronted, one by one, by two female guards, one carrying a thirty gallon trash bag, and the other carried a pair of scissors. The woman in the sexy sleepwear was first, and her slim coverage was quickly ripped off her bound body. Despite the relative small loss of covering compared with the rest of the women prisoners there, a disproportionate protest came as the panties were roughly cut from her slim waist.
Each was roughly stripped, and Angelica remained calm and held her chin up, maintaining her dignity and knowing that she would be reimbursed for the dress and lingerie that they cut though.
Tatters of her chiffon sleeves remained, tied onto her arms by her elbow ropes.
Like Angelica, the other women were left with tatters of clothing that was not cut off by the guards because they were bound to their limbs by ropes, straps or chains. The breasts and hips and legs of all the women were revealed.
Probing fingers searched each of them, and they were taken in a showered off. Then, wet, cold, and still cruelly bound, they were all ushered into a cement holding cell with no beds or benches. The cell-door clanged shut, and the lights were extinguished. The women had been safely sequestered for the night.
Left standing in the total darkness, with elbows and wrists bound, they tried to find a seat on the cold stone floor.
More adventures of Angelica and her companion Stacy in the exciting bondage story series “An Easy Job” are on the Archives BBS CD-ROMS. Felix is still writing and publishes on his website as a public service.