Mandy and Kelly’s Plaything · Part 1 (1/2)
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Somebody once said curiosity killed the cat. Well in my case, it didn’t kill me, but it certainly turned out to be a lot more unpleasant that I anticipated. It was my own fault really. One Sunday afternoon, I was idly scanning through some ads at the back of a local magazine, and for some reason, one of them caught my eye. Two mistresses require naughty boys for humiliating correction it read, severe lessons at reasonable rates guaranteed. My curiosity was immediately aroused, and the term ‘reasonable rates’ was tempting.
For a long time I’d experimented with bondage by myself, but I’d often wondered what it would be like to be properly restrained and teased by a girl so that I couldn’t possible get out of it. Especially if she knew what she was doing. I couldn’t resist it, so with a trembling hand, I picked up my mobile and rang the number in the ad. A soft, silky voice answered. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘Yes’ I said, ‘I saw your ad in a magazine, and I was wondering if I could arrange to visit you.’ ‘What sort of service do you require?’ she asked. ‘Well actually’ I said awkwardly, ‘I’d like to try some really strict bondage.’ ‘Would you now?’ she chuckled, ‘Well you’ve certainly come to the right person.
It’s a speciality of mine. When would you like to come?’ I asked her how much she charged, and was pleasantly surprised to hear how inexpensive it was going to be, so I arranged to pay her a visit the following Saturday afternoon.
‘By the way’ she said, ‘There will be two of us to take care of you, and I can assure you we enjoy what we do. That’s why we charge such a low fee.’ I rang off, tingling with anticipation, impatient for Saturday to come. The week dragged by, but eventually Saturday came, and right on time I found myself ringing the doorbell of a detached house in a pleasant leafy London suburb. The door opened, and a tall attractive girl with long brown hair opened the door. She smiled at me and said ‘You must be Greg’ she said, ‘Come on in.’ I went into the hallway, and she led me through into the lounge. A good-looking blonde girl stood there and said ‘Hi, welcome to our little house of correction.
Take a seat.’ We all sat down, and the brunette introduced herself as Mandy, while the other girl was Kelly. Mandy poured each of us a glass of refreshing orange juice and as I took a sip she said ‘Right then. Now just what sort of thing are you interested in?’ ‘Well as I said on the phone’ I said, ‘I want to try some really strict bondage.
I want to be made to feel completely helpless and at your mercy.’ Kelly looked at Mandy and broke into a broad smile. ‘Well we can certainly do that’ she chuckled. ‘Have you ever been trussed up before?’ ‘Not since I was a kid playing cowboys and indians’ I said, ‘I’ve tried tying myself up a few times, but obviously I’ve always done it so that I could undo myself. No, I want to be properly helpless.’ ‘And so you shall’ smiled Mandy, ‘I can promise you that with the toys we’ve got, you’ll have absolutely no chance of getting out of it. We are experts, believe me.
But before we start, I think we’d better settle up first.’ ‘Oh sure’ I said, taking out my wallet, and I paid her the required amount for an afternoon with them. ‘And just one other thing’ she added, passing a printed form across to me. ‘This is a document in which you specifically ask us to tie you up, exonerating us from any blame as to what may happen. We don’t want you suing us afterwards.’ ‘Fair enough’ I said, eager to start. I signed the form, barely looking at what it said, and passed it back to her before draining my glass of orange juice and putting the glass down on the table.
Mandy watched me empty the glass, looked at Kelly and gave a slight grin. ‘Good’ she said, putting the money and the form into a drawer, ‘Come on through to our little nursery play room.’ We all stood up and went out of the lounge, down the passage, and into a room at the back of the house. The room was an Aladdin’s cave of bondage equipment, and it took my breath away. Every imaginable device for restraint was visible. Handcuffs, gags, leather arm binders and even a straight jacket all hung neatly in their place. Straps and ropes of all sizes hung from the wall, and in one corner was a set of stocks and a pillory.
An examination couch fitted with numerous straps was against the wall, and there was even an adult size baby’s cot and highchair, both equipped with numerous restraining straps. ‘OK’ said Mandy, ‘Now the first thing I want you to do is take off all your clothes. We’re going to give you something more appropriate to wear.’ I did as I was told, and was soon stark naked.
Kelly opened a drawer and took out a large sized disposable baby’s nappy, a terry towel nappy with some nappy pins, and a large pair of translucent plastic baby pants. ‘Are those really necessary?’ I said hesitantly. ‘Of course’ grinned Mandy, as she put the terry nappy on the floor and expertly folded it, ‘We don’t want any shall we say, little ‘accidents’ while you’re tied up, so I’m just going to put this terry nappy on you, with the disposable as a nappy liner. Now lie down on the floor while I put them on you.’ I saw no real point in objecting, so I did as I was told.
Mandy placed the disposable nappy on top of the terry one, and as I lay on both of them in true baby fashion, she quickly brought the disposable one up between my legs and brought the points together at the front before taping them shut. Then she pulled up the corners of the terry nappy on top, and pinned them tightly in place.
Finally she pulled the plastic baby pants on over my ankles and pulled them up my legs. ‘Botty up’ she smiled, and as I obliged, she pulled them up around my hips and tucked the elasticated lags and waist in around the nappy. ‘Humiliating, isn’t it?’ She grinned, and Kelly chuckled as she said ‘There we are, now we can start.’ She went to a drawer, and came back with two palm-sized bags of black leather, together with what looked like a pair of soft black leather mittens. Kelly put one of the small bags into my right hand. ‘Just hold this, will you?’ she said. I did as she said, and could feel that the bag had been filled with what I suspected were polystyrene foam particles.
Once my fingers had closed around the bag, Mandy immediately pulled one of the mittens onto my hand, completely enclosing it. ‘You’ll notice that these mittens are fingerless’ she said, ‘They’re made of leather, and once your hands are in these, they are forced into tight fists that you cannot open. The wrist strap locks on with a key.’ The mitten fitted tightly over my hand, and once it was in place I couldn’t move my fingers at all. I heard the wrist strap lock click shut, and my hand was sealed in the unyielding leather mitten.
A moment later my other hand was sealed into its mitten and my hands were now completely helpless. ‘Good’ said Mandy, ‘Now lie down on the mat face down and put your arms behind your back.’ There was a wooden pallet covered with a plastic covered foam mat on the floor with several straps attached to it, and the two girls positioned me on it so that I was lying on my front. ‘Okay then,’ said Mandy ‘Let’s get you trussed and hogtied.’ ‘Hogtied?
I said, ‘Well that won’t be very comfortable.’ ‘Who said anything about you being comfortable?’ grinned Mandy, ‘You asked for it, and now you’re going to get it in full measure.’ She opened a drawer, and pulled out what looked like a long, tapered bag of black leather fitted with numerous straps and buckles up and down its length. ‘This is called a single sleeve arm binder’ said Kelly, ‘And you can see that it’s pretty simple. It’s a shaped piece of leather that fits over your arms and is designed to make them completely helpless. Here at the bottom is where your hands go, and the rest of the binder fits over your arms up to your armpits.
The width of the binder will pin your arms together from fingertip to elbow tightly, almost together, and the straps around the outside will wrap around your arms about every five inches. The binder goes all the way up to your shoulders. And of course, we’re going to strap you into it as tightly as we can.’ Suddenly realising that wearing the arm binder might well be more uncomfortable that I’d really anticipated, I began to have second thoughts, so I tried to get up again, but Mandy was on me and forced me down onto my stomach again. I felt the leather sheath being slid up my arms, and knew that there was no way that I was going to escape its tight embrace.
Long laces ran up the entire length of the arm binder rather like a shoe, and slowly the two girls began to tighten them unmercifully. They certainly didn’t intend me to be comfortable. It took at least five minutes for them to tighten the laces all the way up the arm binder from the tips of my fingers up to my shoulders, but by the time they’d finished, my arms were clamped together from wrist to elbow, and the leather stretched tightly around my arms like a strong, unyielding skin. There was absolutely no slack anywhere along the entire length of the binder. A flap with a zipper ran up the length of the arm binder all the way up my arms, and covered the laces.
The girls closed it up, and secured it shut with a lock at the top to stop it from going back down. Then they buckled closed all the straps around the outside of the binder. One at the wrists, one at mid forearm, one at the elbows, and one at the top around my biceps, just below the opening at the top. Each strap was pulled tight and each buckle was locked shut with a small padlock. Finally, Mandy took two long straps attached the top of the arm binder, ran them up over my shoulders, crossed them over my chest, and then ran them back behind me, under my armpits, and buckled them together behind my shoulders.
There was now no way that the arm binder could possibly be slipped down and off my arms. I winced at the unaccustomed strain. ‘Look, this is too much’ I gasped, ‘I didn’t expect this. Let me go, I’ve had enough.’ ‘Not likely’ chuckled Kelly, ‘We’ve hardly started yet. You asked for this remember, and you’re going to get it whether you like it or not. Now let’s get started on your legs.’ She pulled out a larger version of the arm binder which was now tightly laced up behind my back, and I realised that it must be a leg binder. But how did it work? Just the same as the arm binder, as I was about to find out, and much to my discomfort.
First of all they strapped my ankles together securely, and tucking my feet into the bottom end of the leg binder, they slipped it on over my legs and up to my thighs. Then the lacing up began, just as they’d done with my arms. Starting with the bottom of the opening next to my ankles, they steadily worked their way up my legs, tightening the laces as they went. Past my calves, my knees, and finally reaching my thighs, where they secured the ends of the laces in a non-slip double bow. Then they buckled shut the straps around my ankles, below my knees, above my knees, and finally around my thighs.
Like my arms, I now felt as if my legs had been welded together. ‘Right.’ said Mandy, ‘That’s got your legs nicely together. Now let’s really immobilise them.’ She picked up a black rectangle of soft leather rather like a very wide strap, about a foot wide and four feet long. Down the edge of the two shorter sides ran a series of holes through which laces could be threaded. Putting it on the floor next to me, Mandy said ‘Now bend his legs up behind him.’ As I lay face down, they bent my legs at the knee until my heels were touching my bottom. Then Mandy slipped the leather rectangle under my legs so that the one foot width ran from my bent knees up to my thighs.
This broad strap now stuck out about a foot and a half on the floor on either side of my legs. Mandy brought up the ends of the strap together over my legs, and started to lace the two edges together. My bent legs and thighs were now enclosed by this wide leather strap, and Mandy began tightening the laces. Gradually she worked her way from my bent knees at the bottom up towards my ankles, which were now directly over my thighs and bottom. As they pulled the laces tighter and tighter, the leather sleeve closed around my bent legs, forcing my heels tighter and tighter against my bottom.
As she tied the laces off in a non-slip double bow next to my ankles, Kelly said. ‘There, I don’t think you’ll be able to even wriggle your legs now. But just to be sure….’ She took a couple of broad leather straps, and running them around my thighs and bent legs, buckled them tightly in place. Now my legs were completely and uncomfortably immobilised in the leather leg binder, bent up behind me. I groaned with the discomfort, and said ‘But you can’t keep me like this, this is too much. I really have had enough, so let me go will you?’ Mandy looked at me and chuckled. ‘After all the trouble we’ve taken? Not likely.
I think it’s time to stop your whingeing, so what do you reckon Kelly, d’you think we should gag him next?’ ‘Definitely’ grinned Kelly. She opened a drawer and took out a large red rubber ball gag fitted with an array of leather straps and buckles. I gulped as I looked at it. Suddenly desperate to avoid being humiliatingly and uncomfortably silenced, I said ‘Look, I promise I won’t make any noise if you don’t gag me’ I pleaded. But my plea fell on deaf ears. Gagging me into silence was obviously part of their enjoyment.
Ignoring my request, Mandy held up the gag so that I could see it properly. ‘This is a head harness gag’ she explained, ‘It’s designed to keep this red rubber ball tightly wedged in your mouth. Once it goes in, the only sound you’ll be able to make is a quiet little muffled gurgle. Very effective, and very, very uncomfortable after a while, as you’re about to find out. There’s no chance of you being able to slip it off, because once the straps are fastened, your jaws will be firmly locked around the ball gag in your mouth and will clamp your jaws tightly together.
Oh yes, it’s wonderfully effective.’ I had been listening to her explanation with increasing horror. ‘Look’ I pleaded, ‘I promise I won’t make another sound, but please don’t put that thing in my mouth. I’ll choke!’ ‘No you won’t’ she said coolly, ‘We’ve used it several times before, and even tested it on each other as well, so don’t try that one. Now let’s get it on you.’ She handed the head harness to Kelly, put her knee in my back, and pulled my head back, so I opened my mouth involuntarily. These girls really knew what they were doing, and the moment I opened my mouth, Kelly instantly forced the ball past my teeth and into my unwilling mouth.
After a few seconds of struggling, the ball forced my jaw wide enough for her to push the ball right into my mouth, filling it completely, and holding my tongue firmly down. I groaned and tried to pull my head away, but while Kelly held my head still, Mandy rapidly pulled the main strap of the gag tight behind my head and buckled it shut securely at the back of my neck. But this was a full head harness, and there were other straps to be fastened. One ran from either side of my mouth with a triangular gap through which my nose protruded. It then went up the front of my face, over the top of my head, and buckled onto the strap behind my neck.
Another strap ran under my jaw, up the sides of my head, and met at a tightening buckle at the top of my head. As Mandy tightened the jaw strap, it forced my jaws to clamp firmly around the ball gag, making it impossible to move my jaw at all. I tried to give a shout of protest, but the only sound I could make was a quiet and muffled ‘Mmmmmmp!’ And yet they still hadn’t finished. Mandy looked down at me, grinned, and said ‘That’s better. Now we can talk without any interruptions from you. But we still have something else to make that gag even more effective.’ She pi
Mandy and Kelly’s Plaything · Part 1 (1/2)
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