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©Felix Dartmouth, 1998
Note: some of the illustrations from this episode are from Archives BBS CD-ROM 04 which features photographs by Felix Dartmouth and other photographers.
An Easy Job 12 – Locked in Lingerie Bondage
Taking Stacy by the arm, he went to the door and looked down the hall. The coast was clear. Pulling up on her arm, he quickly dragged the gagged woman in lingerie down the hall to his room, and fumbled for the keys.
Stacy was very nervous at being seen in this state, but the keys came out of Jim’s pocket, and found their way into the keyhole, and the door opened. Jim expeditiously took Stacy over to the bed, and whipping out a thin cord, tightly tied her hobbled ankles and fashioned a strenuous hog-tie, arching the gagged Stacy’s back. Now he could relax and take a shower, without worrying about the possibility of his prisoner escaping. Just to make sure, however, he took out his handcuffs, and snapped them firmly just above her elbows, just in case.
Stacy groaned in her intense bondage. The handcuffs were the final straw. She had not been so stringently constrained since the dark dank cell of the “police” or whatever they were in Mexico. Every move was a discomfort. If she were perfectly still and relaxed, the discomfort was not unbearable.
“I’ll be out in less time than it took you,” assured Jim, loosening his tie, and taking off his coat. He went into the bathroom, and Stacy heard him turn on the shower.
Left to her own thoughts, she pondered the difficulty, but the
deliciousness of her situation. This reminded her of the passion that she felt as she lay bound in Fernando’s bed, the frustrating overpowering passion that still was not truly quenched as a man can quench it.
She longed to leap off the bed, take Jim by the shoulders, look him in the eye, and say “Take me!” without words. All her efforts, though in the bound state that Jim had arranged for her, permitted her only to move several inches in each direction, and that only with pain and difficulty.
While the hog-tie itself was bad, the final touch of difficulty was the
handcuffs locked just over her elbows. It was not hard for her elbows to touch, but the unforgiving steel bit into her muscles and punished even the thought of exploring any weakness in her bonds.
Her gag, the same one with which she was so familiar because she had worn it on the plane, was not strapped on too tightly, but even the hardest thrusting of her tongue could not cause it to fall in front of her teeth, and down under her chin. At least this did not cause her wracking pain to try. She found it most comfortable to simply suck
her ball deeply into her mouth cavity and hold it there. She simply had to allow her arms, legs, and shoulders to go limp, and wait for Jim to come undo her.
Soon enough, as he had said, Jim finished with his shower. “Wow, that was great!” Jim said. “Nothing like a nice hot shower to wash off the grunge of another country. Her let me undo you a little bit.” Stacy was in no position, or frame of mind to object. Jim came over and undid the rope that effected her hog-tie, and then undid her ankles, and resumed his dressing. Still gagged and elbow-cuffed, Stacy managed to struggle to a sitting position.
Her blonde hair was over her eyes, and there was nothing that she could do to remedy the situation, and she moaned for Jim’s help. Jim looked over, saw her plight and sat down next to her to move the hair out of her eyes. Stacy fell against him and Jim found himself with his arms around the blonde girl in in sexy underwear trussed up to his specifications for the evening.
Stacy was trembling with desire, as she turned, pressing against him, and she lifted her face to his, as if to kiss him, and with her gagged mouth, pressed against his cheek, breathing heavily through her nose. Jim kissed her bottom lip, and held her.
“Now, I know what you’re feeling. This is hard, and you are reaching
out for anyone, and I’m here.”
Stacy shook her head. “Don’t try and say different, because I know. While you are in my protection, I can’t allow anything of this type to happen, I hope you understand that. Do you?”
Stacy nodded. Jim continued to hold her, then after a moment, he kissed her cheek over the gagstrap and helped her up. Stacy wished he would undo the handcuffs cinching her elbows, but this was apparently not to be. Jim left her to stand in her hobbles as he neatened his tie and put on his jacket. Her stance was strained, and her breasts, covered only by her black lacy bra, extruded over their coverings along the bra’s upper border.
She had to lean forward somewhat to keep her balance, so her midriff, compulsorily thrust outward, was highly attractive in the fetching garments that she had chosen to don. Jim picked up his briefcase and took Stacy by the arm and stood her by the door, as he checked to see if the hall were clear. It seemed to be, so he took his charge, and they began the short journey down the hall. There were few steps for Jim, but the steps for Stacy, with her short hobble, were many.
I n S ta c y’ s r o o m , Ji m fi rs t u n buckled her ballgag and looked
her in the eyes. “Is everything OK?” he asked. Stacy nodded, and then they kissed. It was a long, deep kiss, one which was fueled by Stacy’s pent up hunger for a man. Jim cut the kiss short as he felt Stacy’s furry mound rubbing against his hard response to her passion, but he still held her in his arms.
“Jim, the handcuffs are killing me!” said Stacy, and broke the
spell. Jim smiled and turned her around and unlocked the offending steel bands from around Stacy’s upper arms, and she moaned gratefully.
“Are you hungry?” asked Jim.
“You bet I am. They kept me ‘cuffed and gagged on the plane, so
really I’m starved.”
“Well, downstairs they have a great Filet Minon if that’s to your
taste,” said Jim.
“You bet it is!” said Stacy. “I have had nothing but fruits
and vegetables since this ordeal began last Friday.”
Jim began untying her legs, and when this was done, he began on her
wrists. “OK, there now get dressed, and lets go on down to eat.”
Stacy, free, jumped up and down and took her blouse and skirt into the bathroom to put them on. For some reason, even though she had already been fully manipulated by Jim in her underclothes, she did not want him to see her put clothes on. With her blouse and skirt on, she walked out into the bedroom to strap on her heels, and
sat down on the bed next to a pair of handcuffs, and another item that she had never seen, but it was like handcuffs on each end of about a twelve inch chain.
She looked up at Jim. “What are these?” she asked, pretending
not to know as she picked them up.
“Leg irons,” said Jim. “I always carry them. They can be just as effective in restraining a prisoner as handcuffs in a way, because when you are wearing handcuffs, it’s possible to run, whereas with leg-irons, this is impossible.”
“These aren’t for me, I hope!” said Stacy, as she bent over to strap on her high heels.
“They sure are. Since your hands will be handcuffed in front of you
for dinner, I am going to need to make sure that you don’t do any heavy moving about.
They’ll be plenty loose for the walk down to the restaurant, but I’ll tighten them up when we are seated. You understand of course. Why don’t you put them on?”
©Felix Dartmouth, 1998
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