Satine the Domme · Part 2 (2/2)
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er male clientele, often with no warning, and with no attempt to get their permission. She loved the sounds a bound body made when you took away their face. She loved the looks of terror her clients would have as their world went dark. She especially loved the muffled mews of fear, and the helpless questing for sound or light that their encased heads would do.
Now she was going to be the one in the helmet, and there would be no safety measures around. No one else in the world would know she was bound and hooded like this. Satine had a terrible secret that she had never told anyone, because in her line of work, everything was about being strong, and brutal, and without any emotions. Satine, or more precisely Jennifer her real self, was pathologically terrified of enclosed spaces. She knew that there was no more claustrophobic an idea, more complete an enclosure of a person, than a tight, leather helmet. She stared wide eyed at Eastwick, as he showed her the inside of the helmet, with its paddings for her mouth, her eyes, and ears.
How there were straps that would run around her head, over her mouth, over her eyes, sealing her in with locks and belts. How there was no other opening besides the holes for her to breath in her ultimate nightmare. She snapped with terror, bucking against her bonds with a fury she had never known. She twisted and tried to move away, sliding uselessly on the ground. She grunted negative sounds, shaking her head violently from side to side, drool flying outwards from her gagged mouth. Eastwick was amused by her reaction to the hood.
"So you are scared of this thing? Of it encasing your head, blocking out everything? You afraid of enclosed spaces? Can it be that the cities most heartless dominatrix is scared of being bound herself? Oh this could not be more perfect, could it." He grinned as wide as he could as he said this.
"Go ahead and stop me "Mistress Satine". You control men, you use them, you hurt them for your pleasure. Now all you have to do is order me to stop, to whip me for my disobedience. All you have to do is tell me what to do, and of course I will accept what my mistress commands."
Satine stopped her frenzied struggling and stared at her captor, tears in her eyes, pleading with him as best she could. She wanted to promise him money, or to never report what had happened. She was willing to give him anything in her power to stop that helmet from being laced onto her. She groaned and mumbled in her gag, begging him to not do this.
"Whats that Mistress? You want this hot, leather hood on you? You want to see what its like to be so helpless, so confined, so you can understand what all those men felt like? Okay, your wish is my command."
The helmet was the type that laced up the back, and Eastwick had loosened the lacings enough that it could fit easily over Satines tear stained, pleading face. She screamed into the gag, shaking her head so violently that Eastwick feared that she might injure herself. Still he was enjoying the plaintive wails coming from her, the genuine fear that she was demonstrating. He had heard stories about how much Satine enjoyed taking away a mans very ability to be human, to turn them into faceless anonymous objects that she could then abuse sexually. Now he was very thrilled to find she feared this very thing, and it was the very thing that excited him most.
The helmet settled over her head, and Eastwick pulled it straight, so the nostril holes lined up properly. This was not easy, because Satines panic was somehow even increasing as the helmet was applied. As soon as the helmet fit properly, Eastwick pulled on the bottom of the lacings, and tightened the helmet. Any light that might have been getting through was instantly cut off, and now her head was encased in hot, thick leather. He slowly, with relish, tightened the lacings, each pull sealing poor Satine further in her own personal nightmare of claustrophobia.
Her desperate cries were further muffled by the leather over her mouth, and her ability to breath was so compromised by the tiny air holes, that despite her terror, she was losing the ability to fight. When Eastwick was satisfied that the lacings had absolutely no give left in them, he knotted them at the base of her neck. Then the attached straps were pulled around and also tightened with brutal efficiency. One over the eyes, one over her head and under her aching jaw. Finally the largest one, over her mouth and the ball that protruded from it. Her pathetic cries for mercy were now nothing more than almost silent useless mews.
"Most other times you are hooded, and you will be hooded for the rest of your life bitch, I will fill your ears with something, to take away your hearing. But I wanted you to hear what I was going to do with you, and to know how hopeless your chances of ever escaping are." Satine could do nothing more than sob helplessly over this information.
"I am putting a key lock on your helmet. You cannot get out of it, unless I want you out of it. I could let you go right now, and you would have no way to remove it from you." He explained to her, knowing that even over her soft, helpless crying, that she could still hear him. When Satine heard the lock click, a whole new round of panic fueled struggling began. She threw herself at her bonds, her arms twisting upward in the armbinder trying desperately to reach her encased head. This new bout of helpless struggles was too much for Eastwick. His dick already was harder than he had ever known it to be, and this perfectly bodied bitch in complete bondage had to be taken now. He glanced at his watch, saw that it was only 3:30 in the morning, and knew he had at least a half hour to indulge himself before he packed Satine away for shipping.
He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder casually, and carried her into the bedroom. She continued struggling the entire way, her oxygen deprivation fighting with her panic. He threw her on the king sized bed, and quickly stripped. He knew that there was no way she would have any lubrication in her state, but he was prepared, as he had oil to allow him to place a couple vibrators in her later.
"I wonder if you have ever allowed a man to fuck you before, Jennifer?" He asked. He purposely used her given name to debase her a bit more. "I bet you have saved that cunt of yours only for your girlfriends, and their tongues."
Satine knew what he was saying was true. She hated the idea of being penetrated by anything, and never used dildos in her sex play with her female partners. She was still, technically a virgin, since she had known from an early age that she found men repulsive. She was shocked to feel his cock on her sex, moving around over her, covered in oil. She screamed into her gag again, and tried to move away. Eastwick easily held her down, and pressed his dick against her opening. She could do nothing to stop him as he thrust his way in. Her nightmare somehow had managed to even get worse. Not only was she bound, and hooded in leather, but she was being raped by a man.
Another wave of mindless panic overwhelmed her, as the horror of the situation became clear. Her bucking and terrified cries were only helping Eastwick though, as her own movements come faster and harder than any time in his entire life. He had never had an orgasm as complete as this one, and he actually lost conciseness for a brief second. He laid on Satine for a moment, reveling in her helpless, and the indecipherable sounds she was making. He grabbed her tits, enjoying their firmness and smooth skin. She continued trying to push him off her, without the use of legs or arms. Her sheer helplessness frustrating her.
Her mind was shutting down, and she slowly began to breath normally, and quit fighting.
"Guess we need to get you packed up for the trip." Eastwick said, finally getting off her. He slipped his clothes back on, while Satine tried to pull her own legs up as she laid on her side on the bed, sobbing silently. Eastwick noticed her position and said. "Don't worry, you are about to be tied up in a nice, impossible to escape fetal position, put in a bag, and taken to my house. You might want to try to stretch out, instead of curling up in a ball like that, you won't be able to move at all in a couple minutes."
True to his word, within a few minutes, Satine was in an incredibly tight human ball. The first thing he had done was put a nice wide leather belt around her waist. He then attached, thick veiny vibrators to another strap, that attached to the tip of her armbinder, and using a liberal amount of lubricant, slid a six inch one in her unwilling ass, and a eight inch one up her cunt. Her struggles when this happened were admirable, but as always useless. The vibrators were immediately turned on, and they squirmed like giant worms inside her, offering no pleasure, only the humiliation of continually being raped in both her orifices by unfeeling plastic.
Every movement of her arms now, only pushed the vibrators farther into her. She was losing more and more of her ability to move, with each application of bondage that he did on her. He then forced her to sit on her knees, and pushed her body down to her legs. Her breasts were pressed against her thighs. He had thought about applying some sort of breast bondage to those amazing tits, but he did not want to cause any permanent damage, at least not yet, and breasts being bound for hours without any supervision could damage them. There would be endless time to apply clamps, ropes and wire to them later.
He had threaded a thin belt behind her knees, then this belt ran over her shoulders, and was tightened. This held her chest tightly against her thighs. More belts ran around the legs and waist, and also her ankles and lower back. She could not move her arms or legs at all now, reduced to the twitching of her feet moving back and forth in helplessness. Finally he ran a strap from a metal grommet at the top of her helmeted head, and slowly pulled it down between her legs, until her head was forced to jam itself onto her knees. He then connected that final strap to her armbinder, and left her on the bed, laying on her side. She was completely helpless now, unable to even struggle in her panic.
He brought back in the large athletic bag he had used to carry the bondage gear that she wore to her house. With a lot of work, he was able to slide her inside of it, and zip it almost completely closed. He did not care that it would be almost impossible to breath in her position with her mouth filled with rubber and her face covered in leather. If she passed out it would be a blessing for her.
He made a walk through the house, making sure that there was no evidence left that he had ever been here. He put the extra handcuffs and tape he had brought in pockets in his leather coat. There was no evidence at all that he had ever been there. He had touched nothing without gloves on, and no part of his skin or hair had dropped off, as he had shaved himself before he had left the house. It was entirely possible that an eyelash or something had fallen off somewhere, but the chances of it ever being connected to him were almost impossible. He had no criminal record, and absolutely no connection to the slut Satine.
He went back to the bedroom, and without a large amount of effort was able to lift her in the bag off the bed, and throw the straps over his shoulders. He could feel her feet trying to twist and move against his back, but he could hardly hear her at all anymore with so many things in and over her mouth. He stopped to pick up Satines keys, ripped clothes and wallet, that were on the floor where he had left them, then set the alarm for the house, locking the door behind him. There was not only no evidence that he had ever been there, there was no proof that she had ever made it home herself. He strolled into the dark, straight to the garage.
The keys opened the side door to the garage, and also allowed him to disable the car alarm and open the trunk. He placed Satine into the trunk of her own car, thinking that she should be thankful that the late model Peugeut she owned had a big trunk. He slammed the trunk down, got into the car, used the garage door opener on the visor and then easily backed out. He sped off down the driveway, to meet up with roads and highways that would lead him to his own house. That house had been set up for the last year with a basement designed for one thing only. To hold Satine, the Dominatrix for the rest of her life in perfect bondage.
He would take her home, make sure she was secured, then take her car to a public parking lot near a train station. He would lock the car, and throw the keys away in the river, take the train home, and begin his experimenting with his new toy. He wondered how she would react to mummification? Or being buried alive? Being encased in full body rubber sheaths, with a pump gag in her mouth, her breasts wrapped with rubber bands and her ears filled with putty. All these thoughts flowed through his brain, as the miles between her house and his changed.
In the trunk, Satine was in a constant state of fear and panic. She was completely incapable of any rational thought. She knew on some level that she was in the trunk of her own car, and that any chance of being rescued were drifting away with every moment. She felt the panic come back upon her, and she twisted and screamed some more into her perfect bondage. If she had known what laid in store for her in the very near future, should would have been even more terrified and desperate. Either way, there was nothing she could do, and her life was no longer her own. The rest of her miserable life was to be spent, bound, gagged, and helpless, a sex toy, a non person.
Satine the Domme · Part 2 (2/2)
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