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Pi Lambda Kappa – Part 05 – Sorority in handcuffs

Gwen, ball-gagged - Pi Lambda Kappa text series
Gwen, ball-gagged – Pi Lambda Kappa text series

Pi Lambda Kappa, 05

©Felix Dartmouth, 1998

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Pi Lambda Kappa, 05

Gwen, handcuffed and collared - Pi Lambda Kappa text series
Gwen, handcuffed and collared – Pi Lambda Kappa text series

It was Friday afternoon, and her roommate had gone on a date. Roxanne was anxious for her to go so that she could have the room to herself. She got back to her dorm, locked her door and opened the closet door to examine herself in the full length mirror. She admired the way she looked dressed up as she was in the bright red silk blouse with the full sleeves and slightly puffed shoulders and swooping neckline. Her dark straight skirt emphasized the slim quality of her figure and took the eye down to her
black heels.
She walked over to her chest of drawers and pulled out the bag with the two pair of handcuffs that she had purchased. She opened up the lightweight pair and locked and unlocked them to make sure that the key worked. It worked fine, as did the spare. She marveled at the light weight. The difference of three ounces really was noticeable.
Leaving the keys on the bed, she took the handcuffs and walked over to the mirror and locked them on her left wrist. She looked at herself, turned sideways and hung her one handcuffed arm down to her side. Then, turning her back to the mirror and looking over one shoulder, she locked both her wrists behind her back. She turned both wrists outward, once the initial locking had been effected, and closed the ratchets tighter so that her wrist bones were pinioned in a palms outward position as is recommended in the handcuff instructions.
She modeled in front of the mirror. From the front, the handcuffs were not visible, but something indiscernible had entered her posture that indicated that her wrists were not held in a natural position. Her breasts were distended just so, and she knew that if she were on the street, that it would be obvious that she were handcuffed even to the casual observer from the front view.
Of course, from the back, the gleaming aluminum cuffs were clearly visible against the deep red silk and black skirt that she wore. She wanted to get undressed, but she was handcuffed, and she went to relax on her bed for a minute before she unhandcuffed herself and got undressed. She went over to the bed and sat down, the lay over to her left and on her stomach, with her hands trying to find a comfortable position behind her as she lay there.
She allowed herself some time to just lay there and dream for a while. Suddenly the phone rang. It had rung twice before she even sat up, and as she fumbled for the key, it had rang another three times. She decided to try and answer it with her hands ‘cuffed, then maybe the caller would excuse her and she could get uncuffed. She was able to get the phone to her ear, but there was a strain on her wrists.
“Hi Roxanne, this is Ron,” said the voice on the other end.
“Ron, I’m glad you called. Listen, I’m having a little problem.
Could you hold on for a second?” asked Roxanne.

Gwen, ball-gagged and collared - Pi Lambda Kappa text series
Gwen, ball-gagged and collared – Pi Lambda Kappa text series

“Sure,” came the reply.
Roxanne let the phone drop on the bed as she allowed her strained arms to rest a moment. She took the handcuff key, and saw that she had put her ‘cuffs on so that the keyhole is on the top where it is hard to reach. By careful and painful twisting, she was able to match keyhole and key and twist to gain her freedom. She was anxious to talk to Ron, and she left the handcuffs locked to her other wrist as she picked up the phone.
“I’m so glad you called!” said Roxanne, trying to get her
breath.”What was the matter?” asked Ron.
Continue reading Pi Lambda Kappa – Part 05 – Sorority in handcuffs

An Easy Job 12 – Locked in Lingerie Bondage

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©Felix Dartmouth, 1998

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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.

Sue-Anne locked in a Martin Rigid-Cuff - punishment bondage for errant young woman
Sue-Anne locked in a Martin Rigid-Cuff – punishment bondage for errant young woman

“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.”

A Slut in Handcuffs at a formal event
A Slut in Handcuffs at a formal event

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.

Sue-Anne put to bed in high heels, handcuffs and irons
Sue-Anne put to bed in high heels, handcuffs and irons

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


Campus Parking Ticket Roundup-Episode 1-arrested women


©Felix Dartmouth, 1998

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Campus Parking Ticket Roundup


Jim Cranston – Assistant Chief of Police
Donna Cranston – his wife
Ron Johnson – Chief of Police
Regina Strong – Police Sergeant
Billy Marks – Rookie Officer

The Board of Regents Meeting

I had just joined the State Teacher’s College police force as the Assistant Chief of Police four months before. I was at a Board of Regents meeting, where I was standing in for my boss when the topic of campus parking came up. At State Teacher’s we had a lot of the problems that any college town has, bounced checks, drugs, a few firearms violations, burglaries, but parking violations were the problem that took up most of the time of the campus police.

Many of the students lived in small nearby towns, and lived off-campus and drove to class, and the parking lots for students were several blocks away from the class buildings. We had 7 officers whose job it was to write parking tickets, and they were issuing approximately 30 tickets each per day. There were over $2,000,000 in outstanding parking tickets for current and former students.

I was on the hot seat. Even though I had only been there four months, it was clear that the Board wanted this problem addressed in an aggressive manner. I was at a conference table with 9 board members and several support persons and we had come to my place on the agenda. One of the board members addressed me.

Drill team member Gwen harnessed in leather
Drill team member Gwen harnessed in leather

“Officer Jim Cranston,” he said, “you know that this parking situation has gotten completely out of hand. Our campus is getting a bad reputation because there is no place to park, and many of the students seem to be violating the parking regulations with impunity.”

I knew that I had to appear concerned, but I didn’t want to seem like a “cowboy” on my first appearance before the Board of Regents. “I have been reviewing the problem, and there sure is a lot of money tied up in those tickets. I understand that we are holding student’s transcripts if they have outstanding traffic tickets.”

“That’s the reason that you are here, Officer,” a gray-haired woman in a smart dark suit said. “We need some fresh ideas on this matter. Until a student graduates, or requests a transcript, there is just not a whole lot of leverage to get them to pay. I think that we need to implement stronger measures.”

I was a bit uneasy with this. Here we were at a teacher’s college in Louisiana. 80% of the students were young women from small towns who were either going into teaching, arts or business professions. Since I had come here from New Orleans, I had worked with a
pretty rough crowd, and I knew there was a big difference between the criminals in NOLA and a parking ticket violator here! I wondered what kind of “stronger measures” the Board had in mind.

I spoke carefully. “Of course, the department is here to follow the guidelines of the Board with respect to the priority that should be given this matter. What immediately comes to mind to me is that we could implement a range of sanctions, from barring scofflaws from class all the way to actually issuing warrants for their arrest.”

“Now I think you’re getting our drift, Officer,” said the man who had
spoken first. “What we are considering here is proposing to the city council that any person, student or not, including faculty members, who have greater than three unpaid traffic tickets to be guilty of a misdemeanor, and therefore subject to arrest. This will give our campus police the authority to arrest and force payment of this horrendous number of outstanding tickets. Now, you need to tell us what you need to make it happen if we give you the law you need to make the arrests.”

“I think I am beginning to understand your priorities here,” I said. “I
will go back and discuss this with the Chief of Police and we will be back without recommendations. We will need to upgrade several aspects of our department, including the holding facilities, the women police officers, a paddy wagon, and additional restraints
required for the increased volume of prisoners.”

The Board seemed to all relax at once. I think that this is what they wanted to hear! I went a step further.

Campus Parking Roundup 06


©Felix Dartmouth, 2000

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for Training
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Jim Cranston – Assistant Chief of Police
Donna Cranston – his wife
Ron Johnson – Chief of Police
Regina Strong – Police Sergeant
Billy Marks – Rookie Officer 

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Campus Parking Ticket Roundup – Part 6

 Regina also had two undergraduate woman prisoners to take back to the College Jail.  She had walked Donna, in her humiliating French Maid outfit, her excruciatingly tight rope bondage and gag to a bench in the hallway, and handcuffed her ankle to a steel ring in the concrete floor.

She signed for the prisoner and then asked about the
other two girls that she was to escort back to the College Jail.

Handcuffed and leg-ironed in suburbia
Handcuffed and leg-ironed in suburbia

They were brought out from behind a steel door.
They had on very pretty dresses and their hair and makeup had been carefully done.  One wore a light
yellow sundress with bare shoulders and a pleated skirt and white high heels.  The other wore a white shirtdress with a wide and tight black belt and sheer sleeves.  They were two sorority women.  Their treatment must have been far different from the treatment accorded Donna because they were in high spirits.

They were handcuffed, and leg-ironed, of course, and
their wrists were cuffed behind their backs, but they were chattering about getting back to the college and getting back to their life.  Their parents had flown in and paid their fines, so they would be released upon return to the College Jail. 

©Felix Dartmouth, 2000