Convoluted Knots · Part 2 (2/2)
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Just as she took this in, she felt no more actions from her captor, a very sudden change from his up to now relentless rhythm. But no, nothing. There had to be something, he hadn't done all this without preparation, without quite some experience. Who was he? What would he do to her? But the sound of the wind and the swell of the waves left her questions unanswered.
Could it be that she was now alone on an otherwise abandoned boat headed straight out to the ocean? How could she get free and get back to land and safety? Joanna screamed into her gag. Being a damsel in true distress was not the same as her fantasy. She pulled on her bindings, twisted this way and that, but got nowhere. Too many ropes, each knotted, wound, cinched, forming a complete web of restriction. She couldn't move at all. It was her powerlessness that got to her, nobody to negotiate with, no hope of escaping such careful and tight restraints, and not even the hope that someone might spot her and come to the rescue, she shook with a mixture of anger and desperation, but to no more avail than her previous attempts.
She wasn't powerless in the face of a playful partner, she was just like a growth to the mast, and mattered no more than one. How long was this trip to hell going to last? Then she remembered. When a pirate captain was captured, either he was put to death, which was the merciful option, or he was tightly tied to his ship's mast, and left to die of hunger, and thirst and exposure to the sun, as the ship took him on her senseless course. Was that going to be her fate? She struggled, and struggled, and struggled. She pulled one way, pulled the other. Nothing budged. It was like she was welded or glued to the mast.
Whatever she had done to get free had failed. Not only failed, but totally failed. Not one knot had slipped, there was no more play in her bonds than when Luke had tied her up. He knew his stuff well indeed, and she was going nowhere. She could only hope that Mike would materialize, and her hare-brained scenario would unfold happily. Never had she felt so helpless. At the same time, she noticed that she was feeling not only hot under her layers of clothes and rope, but also seriously wet.
Just as she was focusing on that pleasant feeling, a voice startled her. Luke's, or Mike's? Someone else's? It was Mike. Great! Relief washed over her. And anticipation of a hot scene. She has trouble hearing what Mike was saying, as her ears were covered by two hoods, but, as he spoke very close to her head, just to make sure. "Well, darling, it seems that Luke has done his job well. He should, considering his reputation and the hefty price I paid him to do it. Did you know he is one of the best riggers in the BDSM scene? No, stupid of me, how could you? He knows who you are, but you don't know who he is. You sent him your pics, but you never met him, at least not before know, when your blindfold prevented you from seeing him or knowing what he looks like."
Joanna had no idea what Mike was talking about, but, somehow, she had the awful feeling that he was speaking the truth. She had been too well tied up for it to be other than a highly experienced rigger. How? Why? She tried to speak, but the gag was just too large to allow her to form any words.
"Well, baby, I guess it is time to let you know what the situation is. You see, when I get into a serious relationship, one which could develop into something more, I do a bit of research. And I did this with you too. Guess what I found? A woman who makes her money by dating rich guys, claiming to be a bondage freak, getting them to tie her up and treat her roughly, of course saying all along that this is what she wants. And then once the session is over, she rushes off to a friendly lawyer to press charges of assault against the hapless boyfriend. Who, faced with the prospect of years in jail, agrees to settle for a tidy sum, and never discuss this ever after. At which point you are free to start all over again with the next guy."
Joanna was dumbfounded. Mike knew all along! Instead of falling blindly into her trap, he had been a step ahead of her, and she had fallen into his. That is when she realized that her powerlessness was no longer a game, but a very real and dangerous situation. She tried everything she could to get free, or at least talk to Mike, to defend herself, to tell him that she loved him, that he was different, to remind him of the good times and great sex. No way, Luke, the BDSM expert, had made sure of that. She couldn't move, or speak. She was reduced to total helplessness.
"So, you see, baby, when I found this out, I got in touch with 5 of your former victims, and, together we decided what we would do with you. We reached a quick consensus that the punishment should fit the crime. You fooled all of us into thinking that tying you up was doing you a favor. Now we fooled you into thinking that getting tied up would do you a favor."
"So what happens now? You realize, of course, I can do anything with you, and I will. The only question is: what? Do I untie you from the mast, but keep you tied up, and sell you to slave traders? Do I sell you to the producer of snuff movies? Or do I just strangle you here and now? Ah, your struggles and cries are gaining in intensity, so maybe you are getting more worried, even desperate?"
"No point in letting you wonder and search frantically for the answer. But, when you know, you might wish that you didn't. What we decided is that, as you fleeced more than one victim, you should suffer more than one fate. The first one is this: I will sail your boat right in the middle of the shipping lane, and then before I step off and sail back to port, I will set the autopilot to make your boat go around in circles right in the path of the many large ships heading for or from the harbor. I hope you are lucky, Joanna, and that good radar helps them avoid your boat, and saves you from drowning tied to the mast of your sinking vessel. But nights are dark, and it may well be that the urgent call of a horn is the last sound you hear before the steel bow crushes your boat."
"But, you will ask, why did I mention multiple fates? Well, in 3 days, if the GPS which I have placed on the mast is still beeping, it will mean that you are indeed lucky, and have survived. I will then come and get you, for round n°2. And, before you ask, no, I won't disclose what that might be. Half the pleasure is the wait, isn't it?"
"In any case, if being a damsel in distress excites you, as you stated so eloquently to all your victims, as well as to Luke and I, you should be thanking me, because, nobody ever was more a damsel in distress than you right now. So, enjoy yourself! Oh, and just because you said you loved it tight, let me enhance your excitement before I exit. And, just to make you pay for my grief and pain when I found out the truth, I will now inflict grief and pain on you. Or rather, I'll let your situation do it to you!"
Joanna, petrified at what Mike had said, suddenly felt hands at the back of her head, untying the string that kept her head tethered to the mast. Mike then took down her two hoods, unbuckling her gag strap, only to re-buckle it 2 notches tighter, eliciting a sudden "mpffff" of pain from her. Joanna felt something slipped over her head, and smelled leather. She felt her head encased in it, as it was gradually tightened by Mike's vengeful hands, until she felt like a vise had her head in its grip, and her breathing through only two noseholes was added to the list of her problems.
But Mike wasn't done yet, far from it. Joanna felt her waist gripped in a vice very much like her head was, until the constriction grew and grew, and her breathing already labored, became shallow. "Yes, a corset, dear Joanna. Not a fancy one like you like to wear, a strict one, that can really reduce your waist, and your breathing ability with it. Don't fight your situation too hard, or you might well run out of air and black out. And, yes, a corset gets more and more uncomfortable with time. In a few hours, I am told, you should feel it keenly".
Then to her surprise, Joanna felt Mike untie her ankles, then her knees, and she could not understand why. Of course, welded to the mast from the waist up, she couldn't achieve anything, but wondered what her aggrieved lover had in mind. She soon found out: more ropes! Another harness, which ran around her corseted waist, her shoulders, and with twin ropes through her crotch. And, while she couldn't see it or feel it, the harness was hooked to cleats on the mast, so that it couldn't slip down. Joanna, was terrified. She was now well aware of Mike's desire for revenge, and of her helplessness. Inside her tight bondage, there was nothing she could do to escape, and her gag prevented any kind of dialog. Besides, what was he doing tying her up more, when she was already trussed up tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey?
That is when she felt Mike pull one of her feet away from the deck and raise it until the booted heel was as far up as it would go. She was now resting only one leg, as she felt her other one tied up tightly to the harness Mike had just created. That was not good, having to stand on one foot for many long hours! But that was nothing compared to Mike's real intent, as he grabbed her second one and pulled hard to raise it off the deck as well. A soon as she understood, Joanna resisted, or tried to, as panic welled into her to a higher level, but there was nothing she could do. Her second foot rose off the deck, and her body sagged, only held by its web of ropes.
She was now hanging off the mast, one leg on either side of it, and the twin crotch ropes Mike had just put in place held most of the load, and, accordingly, felt like they would split her in two. That was impossible! Mike couldn't leave her like that! There was no way she could survive like this, all the tension, the stress, the pain!
"OK, honey, we are done with ropes, and I hope you will agree that you are now truly the damsel in distress that you said you wanted to be. I will now add a final touch, because you deserve to suffer as you have made other suffer. Until now, you only have to contend with the tightness of your position, and the constricted breathing, but you are warm and dry inside your suit. I am about to change that, because leaving you wet and cold is exactly what I think you deserve. Remember the chest-high waders and attached boots you chose to wear on top of your overall? I will now fill them up with cold seawater until they overflow.
And I'll pour some into your overalls and inside your wet suit too, so you are soaking in cold seawater up to your neck. I am told that feeling the cold drain your body heat is exquisite torture, enough to break even the strongest of spirits! And, also so I am told, seawater on human flesh for many hours becomes another form of torture."
In sheer terror, Joanna felt Mike open the top of her overall, then wet-suit, and pour water right down her body that was so cold it made her scream into the ball-gag. It was so cold she could feel its level sink down to her knees, then rise up her raised ankles, up her hips, soak her pussy, up her belly, past her breasts, until it reached neck level. She was soaking wet, and miserably cold. How could Mike do that to her? She felt Mike closing her suits back up again. When would this hell end? Was Mike finally done, and what would become of her?
As she asked herself this question, all of a sudden Joanna felt a splash of water right on her head. Or rather on the leather hood that tightly encased it And another, and yet another. She couldn't see or hear them coming, which made each one terrifying, as she felt it could drown an suffocate her..
"That, dear, is the last straw, the proverbial one that will break the camel's back, as they say. Because each one of your-last minute embellishments is leather, your hood, your collar, your corset. And now, very wet leather. Well, wet leather eventually dries, and, as it does so, it shrinks. So each piece of leather I have fitted you with will shrink. The posture collar, the corset, the hood, will all get tighter and tighter as they dry off. Isn't that a nice final touch? Well, sorry, but I have to dash off, we are getting into dangerous waters now, and you don't really need me here anymore. Let me just fix the autopilot, and, byyyyye!"
The hoods on her wet suit and her plastic overall were then put back in place and her head tethered back to the mast.
And then: nothing! Could it be that Joanna had been left in this incredibly risky and torturous situation? The silence around her was all the answer she needed. Yes, Mike had indeed done this to her. The rich-kid, naive and sweet lover had turned into a fiendishly clever one at extracting the worst possible revenge out of her, and there was nothing she could to avoid it.
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Convoluted Knots · Part 2 (2/2)
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