The Handcuffs · Part 2 (2/2)
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“Oh yes I am,” I replied, pushing it past the crupper. I untied her ankles and rolled her onto the floor again, retying them side by side and then tying her thighs together as well. She was now bunched up with the bullet deep inside her but her breasts were still accessible. She had earned a reprieve from the pegs but that did not stop me fingering her still swollen nipples.
Maxine had never encountered multiple orgasms before she met me. Her dominance had meant that once she climaxed she pushed her partner away. With bondage she had no way to stop me stimulating her further. The first time she had been surprised, pleasantly so, but continued stimulation eventually became a trial. She was capable of over a dozen orgasms in quick succession being unable to stop while the stimulation lasted. Her pride and bravado prevented her from calling a halt. She had never yet used the safe word. Today she would have to admit defeat, I decided.
Vibrators were less effective than human touch but with her legs locked tightly together, the added pressure of the crupper and my attention on her nipples the result was inevitable. I continued rubbing her nipples as the first convulsions came, making her surpress a shriek of indignation. As her climaxes became more frequent her self control was severely tested.
“The word is ‘Enough’” I reminded her. I pinched her left nipple and held it. It was cruel I know but I was determined.
“No!” She strained, “No………” The agony of admission “Enough!”
Even with the bullet turned off she was still shaking as I released the ropes. The key to the handcuffs was still in my pocket. I fished through my discarded clothes and retrieved it. As I unlocked the first cuff I did not register the tension in her arms, or if I did I took it as her wanting to be free, but no sooner was her hand released then she pulled away and scuttled off. I assumed she needed the toilet. I busied myself getting decent. It was still early in the evening and I am not one for lounging around in a dressing gown, or naked for that matter.
Maxine returned sporting a very short skirt and a ‘slinky’ top that left nothing to the imagination. She trotted over to me and knelt with her wrists in front of her the handcuff dangling invitingly.
“I want to serve you, “she said solemnly.
You could have knocked me down with a feather. She did not look up at me just waited with her arms raised, wrists together inviting me to cuff her again. How could I refuse such an offer.
“What would sir like?” She said in her best maid’s voice, “Tea, Coffee, something stronger perhaps?”
“A beer will do nicely,” I answered still a little taken aback.
“Certainly, but first….” She got up quickly and retrieved the gag that was still lying on the floor. She returned to her knees and presented it to me. “I am yours to command, “she said simply.
My head was now spinning. Never before had she shown such tendencies. What had I done? I looked at her submissively waiting. Her mouth opened eagerly to accept the penis gag.
“Go on then,” I chivied, “and mind you don’t spill it.”
There followed a very pleasant if surprising evening with Maxine attending me, kneeling or standing, attentive yet not intrusive. She made the perfect slave, yet there was one more surprise for me.
As I declared it was time for bed she came in front of me and knelt down blocking my exit. She started to undo my trousers, the first unforced provocative action of the evening. As my penis was freed she gave it a couple of strokes to encourage it then raised her head and put her hands to her gag, touching it. I immediately realised what she wanted. Her head rested on my groin as I removed the strap. She then gently pushed my chest back and proceeded to give me the best blow job I have ever had. I was flabbergasted.
As my composure returned I looked down to see her still kneeling between my legs and smiling. I put my hand to my pocket.
“Wait,” she said softly. “I have found this evening exhilarating. Not having to think, not having any control. I want it to go on.” She paused, “I want to be your slave.”
“I would wear these all the time I am at home, except, I could not cook or even care for myself properly. Perhaps you could find something a little less restricting? But it must be inescapable. I need that sense of helplessness. It’s intoxicating. Please?”
“How far are you prepared to go?”
“As far as I can.”
“How will I know if it goes too far?”
She thought a moment. “How about a special word, one that means that I really have had enough?”
“Such as?”
She considered for a few moments, “Wilberforce,” she stated.
It seemed poetic to nominate the name of the person instrumental in banishing slavery from this country as the name to finish her bondage, because bondage it would be.
“What do you think?” She purred, “do you think you could tame me?”
I was still luxuriating from my recent orgasm. The thought of having Maxine at my beck and call, with no more argument or power struggle was very appealing.
“Go to bed,” I told her. “I need to look for a few things on the net.”.
She scurried off without a word. I hadn’t even unlocked her hands. Perhaps she wanted to keep them on all night?
Part III – Maxine's Enslavement
It may seem strange to voluntarilty give up your personal freedom but that’s what I have done. My name is Maxine. I have been married for less than a year to the man I now call Master. At home and in his presence I am his slave, but that is where it finishes. At work I wield a great deal of authority with people under me. I am a high executive. I know how to command. I am only learning how to serve.
For the events leading up to my enslavement you must read the Handcuff stories. I discovered that when I had no escape, no choice, then all my cares were taken away as well. I did what I was told, after a day of stress and decision making this was now what I wanted. There were a few days between my first decision and the arrival of my new restraints, during this time we were able to finalise the arrangement.
The first stage was to draw up a contract. Slavery is about bondage and contracts are binding. We arranged with a local solicitor to have the contact witnessed. They did not need to know the contents, just witness and store it. The basics of the contract gave Patrick, my husband and master, complete control of my actions and clothing while in his presence or within our house. Within the authority of the contract is the use of any sort of restraint that does not endanger my life but no form of beating or whipping. Strictly speaking if Patrick came to me at work I could not refuse him; I trust him not to avail himself of this right.
I was intruiged to know what Patrick had bought this time. The handcuffs were very effective at restraining me but reduced my dexterity too much for even the simplest of tasks. They were inescapable, even with the key in my possession. Despite the contract I knew that I would attempt to gain or increase freedom of movement from any restraint if possible so he would have to come up with equally secure means to hold me. Patirck’s solution was both secure and ellegant: leather cuffs with a stainless steel sleeve. The each cuff locks with a small padlock which are virtually impossible to unlock with one hand. To the onlooker the cuffs appear to be ornamental metal bracelets.
Closer inspection reveals a D ring on the inside wrists. When I get home I have to bathe and put the cuffs on myself, then present myself naked before my master. He will then decide what, if anything I am to wear and if I am to be restrained.
Patrick likes to see me naked, or as good as. He will sometimes allow me a short skirt, especially if I am doing housework. I have a full length pinny for cooking or when using certain cleaning fluids. I have also a pair of rubber gloves. I am always restrained in one way or another, even during the night while sleeping. The usual beginning is a collar, similar in appearance to the cuffs, with a D ring at the front and back. Through the back ring is threaded a chain which is attached one end to each cuff. The length is such that to reach my bottom I have to put one hand high up my back in a hammerlock position, reaching my pussy is impossible.
He will often insert some sort of torment into my vagina, either love balls, a bullet vibrator, or just some type of crupper, knowing I cannot remove or effect them. He has various pre-made items for my groin or chest made from leather or chain. He is also quite skillfull in ropework. He has ankle and thigh chains that can allow partial movemnt or none at all. I cannot complain, even if I am permitted speach. I have got quite used to wearing a gag, including a ‘breather’ version with a tube that prevents accidental suffocation for prolonged use, usally overnight.
Until recently I did not understand why Patrick liked to bind my upper body especially my breasts. Now that I am in some sort of bondage most of the time I have come to appreciate, if that is the right word, some of the sublties of prolonged pressure to parts of my body. I have had my nipples pierced with permanent barrel studs. These make it easier for my master to attach string or chains to my nipples. I can be kept in a permanent state of arousal and frustration with no means of release until my Master wishes. It seems that my master wishes this most of the time. Patrick has always wanted more sexual activity than me, but now I do not have a choice, I have to accept it.
I must admit that the combination of frustration and uncontrollled (by me at least) stimulation has produced orgasms of a magnitude that I had never known before. I have also learnt how to please my Master properly without thought of reward or recompense. If my master wishes me to orgasm I cannot prevent it, if he wishes me frustration then that will happen too.
I do not mind when I have no movement at all. Once I have established in my my that I am inobile I sort of switch off. There is no point in fighting the ineveitable so while I wait to see what is going to happen I let my mind wander. It is these times that I can often come up with great ideas for my work. I must say that since my enslavement I have become even more focussed at work making me more successful than ever. However when my bondage is light I try and make myself as comfortable as possible, or I fiddle with my bonds, even though there is no escape.
I get frustated, even angry with what is being done to me and need to use all my mental abilities to calm myself down and accept the situation. If I am given a task I can concentrate on that, but if I am just waiting then it is very difficult. Punishment is further restriction or added discomfort. Any vocal complaint and I am gagged. The result is that my self control has increased along with my tolerance. These skills too have assisted my career.
Bondage is not restricted to the house. I have gone shopping with my hands manacled in some way, attached together or to a belt. I have had my thighs hobbbled which is totally invisible beneath even the shortest skirt. On one winter’s morning I wore a scarf to cover the fact that I was actually gagged! I have also been transported naked and bound in the boot of the car. I find these excursions very exciting, especially the risk of discovery, yet we are completely ignored.
One scenario I had not anticpated was being used as a sex tox for Patrick’s mates. I had no warning. I was tied up for sex. This was not particularly unsual. Since my enslavement my master uses me as he wishes for sexual gratification. Before I used to refuse him when I was not in the mood, especially first thing in the morning, now of course I have no choice. Nevertheless I am often bound to prevent resistance or to allow easier access to one of my orfices. I had never experienced anal sex before and was surprise when first it occurred. I cannot say that I find it pleasant but I have had some unusal sensations that produce different orgasmic reponses.
So here I was tied bent over the piano stool. My hands were locked to my back both imovably and mechanically. I asure you I could not move or free them. My ankles were attatched to a spreader bar holding them apart and presenting my behind for entry to either passage. I was gagged with the infernal multipurpose gag. I hate that thing. Within seconds it can be transformed from the mouthfilling silencer to a O ringed mouthfucker and I have no means of preventing it. I was silenced. I heard the doorbell and squirmed uncomfortably As far as I knew our arrangement was a private affair, vistors were not expected, at least by me. Patrick did not seemed surprised.
I could hear him welcome whoever was at the door and invite them in. I was now getting agitated.
“Here she is, ready and waiting.”
I was mortified. I was also completely unable to move or change the situation. I had always asumed that Patrick would not want to share me with anyone else, but I was wrong there as well. During the evening I was shagged, prodded and sexually abused by men who I hardly knew. The final insult was to stuff a vibrator into me and force me to multi-orgasm in front of his guests. It is to my shame that I experienced the biggest orgasms of my life.
When the evening was finished and the guests had departed I was able to query what had happened.
“You are mine to do with as I wish,” he told me bluntly, “the contract gives me complete control over you while in the house or my presence.”
I was about to argue when he pointed out “Who are you going to complain to? You had better get used to the idea because they enjoyed it so much we are going to do it on a regular basis.”
During the next few days I brooded. I had to admit that I had secretly enjoyed the experience, even though it went against everything I had been brought up to believe. All I had to do was accept that having sex was not cheating if my partner was in full favour of it. He was not only in favour: he was encouraging it! No, he was demanding it! I eventually decided that if it was going to happen I might as well join in willingly. I suggested the next time I be allowed to serve them in otherways like I would him. I suppose I thought he might change his mind if he believed I was enjoying it. On the contrary he thought this an excellent idea!
The next time I behaved as the perfect servant supplying food, drinks and other services. Like I said I am in charge at work so the idea of being at other people's beck and call was something I had to work at. It had been a long time since I had been in such a situation in public. I enjoyed the attention but I would not have had sex with some of his friends by choice, of course I had none. I was there to serve not to choose. I was fucked several times and not allowed any rewarding pleasures although several people took great pleasure in getting me excited then denying my climax. The hardest part was to accept sex without being tied down and to stop myself masturbating when I thought no one was looking.
Later on Patrick was very appreciative of my efforts giving me pleasure beyond my wildest dreams. I was hooked. I wanted more.
He then enrolled me in a belly dancing class and instructed me to research all forms of erotic dancing. This was something new. I cannot confess to being a profficient dancer, at least I didn’t used to be. I have had to work hard to pursuade my body to move as required. To complicate things I am still restrained in some way which makes dancing more difficult.
The parties, as he now calls them, have grown, so much so that he now hires a private room in the local pub. I am no longer the only woman, neither am I the only one in chains. There are several slaves, some male, some female. We dance, serve drinks and perform sexual services for anyone who requests it. I am sometimes tied up, and sometimes allowed to use my hands. I have now learnt how to pleasure women as well as men. My slavery is now fully public. My business success means that we can attend fetish and S&M gatherings around the world where Patrick finds new toys to use on me and I exchange experiences with other slaves. It has opened up a completley new life for both of us. My slavery has paradoxically given me a new freedom. I do not regret a thing.
ends
The Handcuffs · Part 2 (2/2)
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