have known from the way my husband kept glancing at his watch that he
had more on his mind than just planning the details of my bondage. And,
later, I certainly should have been warned that something special was
in the works by the way Jason took such extra care with my outfit.
But the sheer pleasure that I always find in B&D must have blinded me just as thoroughly as did the discipline helmet that Jason later buckled so snugly over my head. And so, in total darkness, I ignored everything else and simply luxuriated in the lovely sensations that go with being put into serious bondage.
The helmet was only the beginning. At Jason’s command that Saturday morning, I had stripped to the buff and the accompanied him to our hidden, elaborately equipped basement, knowing quite well that I would enjoy no more physical freedom for the rest of the day. But I remained silent, for my handsome husband-Master does not appreciate idle chatter when bondage is on the agenda.
I took my usual position between the two heavy posts in the subterranean chaining room and obediently held out my arms so that Jason could buckle a thick leather cuff over each wrist. Each cuff was fixed at the end of a strong rope pulled down from a pulley at the top of one post, and he quickly used the pulleys to draw my arms up above my head and out in a taut vee. Then he locked a pair of cuffs about my ankles and used them to spread my legs wide apart. Now that I was spreadeagled so rigorously, my body was readily available to my husband’s plans for my bondage outfit today -- and to his teasingly exploratory hands!
From behind me, his arms circled my waist. I gasped with pleasure, and then gasped again when his hands cupped my breasts. I must admit that my bosoms are more than generous, but they are also firm enough that I rarely need a bra. And they are sensitive. Jason’s squeezing and rubbing my nipples started an itchy warmth in them that I loved. Then his fingers found my crotch, enticing me into a vigorous bump-and-grind routine for a moment.
But bondage, not arousal, was the chief aim of Jason’s plans. And so he stepped away after having given me just a taste of how exciting he can be. The next thing I knew, a discipline helmet was being pulled down over my head. It is tight enough as it is, so he had to work to get it properly positioned. At last, though, my nose was in its niche and I could feel the cool brass of the mouth-hole zipper at my lips. The small mesh holes at my ears would allow me to hear his commands.
The helmet’s eye-slits had already been buckled shut, consigning me to total darkness. He started right away to tighten the helmet’s laces until its black leather must have been glossy with tension. It felt as though my head were being squeezed inside a pitiless vise.
As soon as Jason was satisfied that my helmet was secure, he brought a rubber-covered steel tongue-clamp for me. Of course I didn’t know this until he jammed the horrid gadget in through my mouth-hole and pressed it hard against my lips. Despite the instinct to clench my teeth shut against this unwelcome invader, I made myself open my mouth as wide as I could so that he could fit it inside my mouth. The right and left sections of the device closed snugly to imprison my tongue between them, guaranteeing my silence and also a fair amount of continuing discomfort.
The gag’s broad rubber mouthpiece covered my parted lips, and was held firmly against them when he buckled its retaining straps behind my head. With it in place, there was no need to zip the mouth-hole shut. My only connection now with the world around me would be what I could hear of it, for neither my eyes or my mouth could be of any use at all. My studded corselet came next, a sturdy leather garment that cinches my waist in to really waspish slenderness. Jason laced it to severe constriction, so close that it limited my breathing to quick, shallow pants. It seemed even tighter than usual. And then I felt him attaching my bodystrap at the front of the corselet. The strap is braided of coarse leather thongs so that its pressure between my legs can be quite erotic when he pulls it taut.
And tighten it he did, running the free end through the buckle set at the back of my corselet and yanking on it until I had to arch my back in protest against its relentless grip. The strap pressed harshly up between my lovelips and I knew that it would tantalize my sexbutton there whenever I moved. I rolled my hips gingerly to explore the strap’s erotic torment.
Then I was surprised to feel Jason fitting my breasts into the thong-woven cups of my squeeze-bra. He usually prefers to have them completely open to his inquisitive hands, so I had to wonder what he had in mind. The thongs make it possible for him to tighten the cups until my breasts are molded into generously firm cones of warm, tender flesh, and he used them expertly for that purpose. The fact that they are open-tipped means that my nipples protrude eagerly through the openings, more acutely sensitive to arousal than ever. My body stiffened when he took advantage of their exposure to give each nipple a long, open-mouthed kiss, complete with suction and a tantalizing tongue-lashing. It was obvious that Jason wanted me in a state of arousal.
There was no doubt of what would come next. Now that my nips were thick with excitement, they were ready for the cones. These are hollow cones of stainless steel, with the base of each one open to receive its unwilling prisoner – one of my nipples! I could feel him fit one of them over my right breast and then turn the ring at the tip of the cone. This tightened the ring of tiny metal teeth inside the cone’s base, squeezing the tender knob inside it until it could not come off. I had worn the cones often enough to know that a leash attached to them would encourage my eager response to whatever he commanded. A harsh tug at the devices could really hurt! I sucked in a deep breath, sensing the cones’ firm grip, and shuddered at the prospect of wearing them for God knows how many hours. Finally, Jason locked a thin chain loosely between the rings, which assured me that he could make use of my breasts’ sensitivity whenever he wished.
I was still quivering when he freed first one leg and then the other in order to fit them into my thigh-length, stiletto-heeled boots. After they had been laced to skin-tightness, he locked wide steel cuffs about my ankles and linked them with a 12-inch hobble chain. I tested its length cautiously, admitting reluctantly to myself that the short, respectful steps it would require would be quite appropriate for a female in my situation.
Then he freed my left wrist from the cuff that held it stretched above me. I let that arm hang down naturally, wondering what sort of arm-bondage he had chosen for me today. I found out soon enough!
I allowed him to bend my arm double, and knew immediately that I would be wearing the shortgloves today. Sure enough, I could feel him work the leather sheath up over my elbow until it reached my wrist and underarm. Tightening the laces came next. When he was satisfied, the back of my wrist was jammed firmly up against my shoulder inside the shortglove’s crushing embrace. He repeated the operation on my other arm, leaving both of them completely useless. My fingers grasped vainly at open air.
To complete my arm bondage, Jason went behind me, ran a strap through the rings set at the tips of the shortgloves, and drew them together until my elbows met in the center of my back. The tension on my shoulders was fierce, but I knew that I would get used to it in time. After all, this was by no means the first time my arms had been immobilized this way.
Okay, I thought, what more can you add to my plight? The answer was a chain from the top of my helmet to the ceiling, effectively anchoring me just where I stood. The way my arms were fixed forced my breasts outward against the bra’s thongs, making the thin leather strips cut more deeply into their sensitive skin and squeezing my nipples inside the cones even more snugly. I writhed with anxiety when he twisted them a bit to test their security.
Then I heard the doorbell ring. Ordinarily we would ignore it, but to my shocked surprise, I heard Jason mutter to himself, “Right on time,” and then the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. Well, he’d probably ordered something.
I waited patiently, shuffling atop my boots once in a while and savoring the way the bodystrap squeezed my clit. Surely he would be back in a minute or two. I twisted my shoulders experimentally, making my bosoms sway and exaggerating the bra’s snug embrace.
Then, to my horror, I could hear Jason talking to someone and the sound of more than one pair of feet on the stairs. He was bringing someone down to our private basement! Our rule of absolute privacy when I’m in bondage was being flagrantly ignored! I squirmed in an agony of confusion. No one but my husband should ever see me like this!
But then I heard Jason say, “Lyria is all ready for you, Burch. I think you’ll like the way I’ve fixed her.”
I could hear the footsteps come to stand directly in front of me.
My God, he was going to show me off to someone else! This was something I would never have allowed if I could help it. But, obviously, there was no way I could avoid it now. I bit down on my gag and tried to turn away from Jason and his guest. But the footsteps simply followed me around.
Then, shocking me even more, I heard a sultry feminine voice say, “Why, she’s gorgeous, Jason! What a figure! And those nipple-cones! Oh, I can’t wait to be introduced...”
Jason responded graciously. “Thank you, Yaneen. You’re looking lovely yourself, you know.” Then the voice of the man Jason had addressed as Burch said, “I think you can open her eye-holes now. She ought to be able to see her new friends.” I immediately liked his voice, deep and growly.
There was a fumbling at my helmet and then I could see again. But I kept my eyes shut, horribly embarrassed to be on display like this, until the woman called Yaneen said to me, “Come on, Lyria we’re your friends! You can look at us!” Cautiously, I opened them.
Standing in front of me was a voluptuous blonde -- in bondage! She was nude above the waist, showing a marvelously full, firm pair of tits that appeared to have large steel rings embedded in them deep behind the aureoles. They were unused at the moment. Below her breasts was a short, snug skirt of black leather. On her feet was a pair of open-toed sandals with very high heels. I could see a heavy steel collar about her throat and had to guess that her arms were secured behind her in some way. Her smile was warm and sympathetic. I grunted through my nose to acknowledge her greeting.
Turning my head, I could see that Burch was a heavy, square-built redhead, dressed in a leather vest and tight leather trousers. He seemed to be impressed at what he was seeing — me!
Jason grinned and said to me, “Surprise, sweetheart! Burch and Yaneen are into bondage too, and I thought we should get together with them. I read some of his stuff in last month’s Bondage Bulletin and liked it. So I emailed him and we got together last week in the city to talk things over. He told me about his wife Yaneen, but this is the first time I’ve gotten to meet her in person.” I grunted again.
Burch moved to stand in front of me. “Since you and Yaneen seem to like the same things, Lyria, we thought that the two of you should get together.” I did my best to nod my head. Maybe bondage for two would liven things up!
Burch went on. “Yaneen is only in light bondage just now, but if you’ll wait, I’ll help her into something more uncomfortable.” I liked the way she wriggled in happy agreement.
She turned around and I could see that her wrists were snugly strapped in an X behind her. Her husband quickly unbuckled the strap and gave her a minute to pat her hair into place before he fitted her wrists into a pair of cuffs connected by a hinge so that her hands were fixed immovably palm-to-palm at her back. Then he used the strap from her wrists to bind her elbows together in the center of her back, wrenching her shoulders back as severely as mine were.
Yaneen stifled a moan, shook her head, and then said softly, “It’s so nice not to have to worry about my arms any more. Thank you, Master.”
Burch knelt in front of her and after he arose I could see that he had hobbled her by locking a 20-inch chain between cuffs snapped over her great toes. It was her open-toed sandals that made this possible. I’d never been hobbled that way, and supposed that it was probably more restrictive than an ankle-chain because it would hurt more to overstep its limits. But Yaneen didn’t seem to mind.
Her skirt came off next, revealing a broad belt tight about her waist and a wide bodystrap of chain mail between her thighs.
“That’s her chastity-belt, Jason,” Burch explained. “It has a short dildo fastened to it so that nothing else can get into her. She says it keeps her amused — and I believe her! Why, sometimes when she’s wearing it, she’ll go into orgasm after just a ten-minute walk. Of course,” he chuckled, “I have to keep her moving pretty fast.” Jason shook his head in admiration.
Even if I’d wanted to, there was no way I could join the conversation. And a moment later, Yaneen was silenced as well. Burch produced a dildo-gag from somewhere, she opened her mouth obediently, and he forced the sinister-looking hard-rubber rod back deep into her throat. She grunted huskily but held still while he buckled its retaining belt tightly about her head. Now her lips were covered the same way mine were, by a soft rubber rim that surrounded the protruding end of the gag. She winked at me.
“What would you suggest as the best way for these lovely ladies to get to know each other?” Burch asked.
Jason detached the ceiling chain from the top of my helmet and then pulled the gag out of my mouth so that he could pull the helmet up off my head. The gag was reinserted immediately, of course, and secured in place with more straps. He pursed his lips. “Well, since neither one can say a word just now, I guess it will have to be a physical acquaintance.” Then he grinned. “You know, I think I’ve got just the gadget for them --a double-dildo that I picked up years ago but never had a use for until now!”
“Sounds interesting,” Burch said. “I’ve never seen one, although I’ve heard about them. Two dildos set parallel at the ends of a telescoping rod, I think.”
“You’ve got it,” Jason answered. “Hold on a minute.” He hurried off to the storage room and soon returned with the object Burch had described. What a sinister device it was! Each of its hard-rubber dildos was close to eight inches in length, and probably two inches in diameter. Worse, their surfaces were ribbed and pebbled so that their insertion would be extra tantalizing.
“I think face-to-face will be more interesting than fixing them back to back,” Burch offered. “Here, I’ll take Yaneen’s chastity belt off her.”
She closed her eyes and moaned during the procedure, obviously sorry to lose her regular companion. But I figured the new one would more than make up for its absence! Jason slid the two sections of telescoping rod apart and Burch took one of them, admiring its attached dildo.
After Jason had removed my bodystrap, we girls were instructed to spread our thighs so that the dildos could be properly inserted. Jason brought some aphrodisiac crème to be smeared on them, and for the next few moments, I was too occupied with my own sensations to pay any attention to Yaneen. Jason aimed the monstrous pole at my puss and began to work it up into my love-tunnel, bringing anxious grunts and then some happy moans from me. The feeling was just delicious!
I twisted my hips slowly to assist in the invasion, shivering as the crème ignited a fiery heat inside my cunt. Then I stiffened with excitement when its flared base touched my clit. My hungry grunts became a hum of pleasure. That thing was so wonderfully long and thick!
Finally, Jason secured the dildo in place with straps pulled up taut to both the front and rear of my corselet. I felt totally, exquisitely invaded. My breasts heaved against their thong prisons with lusty enthusiasm.
Then I saw that Yaneen was having the same experience. Burch had secured her dildo in place and now was moving its forward-jutting rod up and down just enough to make her fully aware of its erotic presence. She hummed and grunted with excitement.
Now it was time for us to be fitted together. Our Masters made us move toward each other, preparing to join the rods telescopically, and before long we were standing face to face. Our hips were shoved closer together before the connecting rod was secured, and we each found our nipples pressed firmly against the other’s.
Our simultaneous moans of arousal brought smiles to our Masters’ faces. Then we discovered that turning our shoulders would bring our breasts into action, rubbing and frictioning them with delightful results. Some gentle hip-thrusts taught us how to bring the dildos into play as well, and soon we were writhing and jerking with serious intensity.
Since Yaneen’s breasts were bare and mine were tipped with the cones as well as being shaped by my squeeze-bra, I could provide more stimuli than she could. I leaned forward, making my cones dig into her bosoms, and then turned slowly from side to side. She hummed her appreciation and then returned the favor by thrusting her hips forward sharply. The action my dildo gave me was marvelous, just as it must have been for her.
After we had spent a few moments in exploring just how best we could enjoy our situation, Burch reached in between us to grab the rod linking our two dildoes. He began to yank up on it rhythmically, intensifying our pleasure, and chuckled as we moaned in unison. He kept it up until we were both grunting with real excitement. I thought I might be close to cuming, but he stopped before I could get there.
“Some extra action to keep them happy, eh?” Jason asked. “Really, though, I’m not sure they ought to fire off quite so soon.” Burch let got of the dildo-rod and backed away. “You’re right,” he agreed. “Yaneen is much more fun when she’s dying to get it off than when after she’s popped. Let’s make sure we don’t have them climaxing too soon.”
The result was that we were soon relieved of our internal fixtures. Both of us sighed bitterly when they were removed, but our husbands were firm. “You’ll get yours before the day is over,” Jason promised me. “And think of how much better it will be after you’re been hungry for so long!”
He was right, of course. There have been times when he kept me aroused for several hours before finally letting me reach climax, and the resulting explosions were just incredible. But to be frustrated for such a long period of time is hardly a lot of fun. However, that’s the way it has to be: as long as I’m the slave, he controls my body, not me!
I don’t think either of us slaves felt right with nothing between our legs, and apparently our Masters didn’t like it either. They consulted for a few minutes, and then Yaneen and I found ourselves bodystrapped once more. Burch substituted a strap braided of coarse leather thongs between Yaneen’s legs, and I got a new one of nylon rope with a teaser fastened just where it crossed my clit. Each one was tightened until we grunted. I wriggled with happiness. No rest for the enslaved!
“They really ought to have a chance to talk to each other, don’t you think?” Burch asked Jason. “They’ve probably got a lot of interesting stories to tell.” Jason agreed. “Sure, but we’ll want to make sure they aren’t too comfortable.”
Burch and Jason discussed the problem at length, leaving Yaneen and me to and quietly by ourselves. The solution our Masters finally came up with was, well, Masterful!
First, our arms were freed. It took a while for my shoulder muscles to relax after the elbows-back position my arms had been in, but before long I was feeling natural again. Yaneen hadn’t been under quite so much stress, so she was ready for what came next right away. But I gave a moan of sympathy when Burch fixed a leash to the chain between her breast-rings, knowing that she would be even more vulnerable to “corrective” use of the cruel ornaments.
What came next was our being herded into the basement’s “exercise” room where Master Jason fixed a long crotch pole, about four inches in diameter, some three feet above the floor between two great stone pillars. Our hobbles were removed and we were helped to straddle the pole so that we faced each other about two feet apart. The pole was wide enough so that sitting astride it wasn’t really painful, but since our feet could barely touch the floor it did keep each of us sharply aware of the pressure concentrated between our thighs.
Then the men used thick leather straps to bind our knees and ankles tightly together below the pole. Our arms were still free of restraint, but that didn’t last long. Jason locked heavy iron cuffs over my wrists and then linked them with a six-inch chain, after which Burch did the same for Yaneen’s wrists but did it so that her wrist-chain ran between my arms. Now we were definitely connected.
Two great leather collars were buckled about our necks and leashes from them were pulled up to the ceiling to be fastened there. Their purpose was to prevent either of us from tipping sidewise on the pole, which became obvious as soon as the men used more straps to pull our ankles up behind us. Now we were suspended entirely by the pole, focusing fierce erotic pressure on our private parts and heightening our discomfort considerably.
Finally, our gags were removed. “You girls can jabber away all you want now,” Burch told us with a chuckle. “And if that gets boring, you can always play with each other’s tits.”
Both of us said the required thank-you as the men left the room.
We were silent for a moment, and then I asked, “How long have you been into bondage, Yaneen?”
She smiled and said, “Gee, since I was a little girl, I think. I don’t remember just when I first found out how great it is to be restrained, but I had dreams about it when I was still in grade school.” She paused and then aid, “And how about you?”
“I really didn’t know about bondage until I was in high school, so I guess you’ve got a longer history than I do. It was an older girl who first tied me up. We were having an argument in her bedroom and she ended up sitting on my back and roping my wrists together. But we weren’t dykes or anything, just experimenting.”
I wriggled my hips and sighed at the pleasant pressure this inflicted between my legs. Yaneen said, “Yeah, isn’t it great to have husbands who like to do this to us? I was just lucky to find a guy who knew more about it than I did...Burch had been into B&D for years before I met him.”
“That’s funny,” I responded. “I had to teach Jason to be a bondage-master. He’d never heard of it before we started going together,” I laughed happily. “After a month or so of being married, I finally got up the nerve to suggest that I might enjoy sex more if I were restrained in some way. I had some coils of nylon rope ready and told him what I wanted him to do.”
I paused a moment, recalling that evening with pleasure. “Jason was reluctant at first, but after he had my arms tied behind me and each of my legs doubled, he discovered that I clearly enjoyed being screwed while in bondage. And he admitted afterwards that he enjoyed it a lot more too. He caught on fast after that first night, and it wasn’t long before he was the real Master and me just his willing slave! Oh, and as time went on, he became marvelously inventive, which made things even better.”
“It certainly looks that way!” she said with a smile. “The way you were fixed up when we got here was fabulous.” Then she paused and leaned forward. I gasped as her hands sought my breasts. “If he can play with these,” she murmured, “I guess I can too, even if they are equipped with these awful gadgets. Is that okay with you?”
I sighed and shook my shoulders to make my breasts sway. “Sure, dear. But I think I should have the same privilege.” And so I took her firm, heavy bosoms in my own hands and explored their rings while she cupped and massaged mine. Each of us was quiet for a time, concentrating on stimulating the other’s sensitive globes and giving little aah’s and ooh’s of pleasure.
After a few moments, I tried to lean forward for some oral action but my neck-leash was too short to allow that. She experienced the same obstacle. “Okay, it will have to be our hands that do the work,” she said softly while she manipulated and rolled my cones between her fingers. I grunted with approval and did the same for her.
“God, oh God,” she husked, “That really feels good. Uh, let’s just keep this up while we talk.” I agreed immediately, and for the next ten minutes or so we offered manual pleasure to each other while exchanging stories about our careers in bondage.
It wasn’t that we were able to bring ourselves to climax, but the feel of her gentle hands was enough to keep me happy and relaxed in spite of the bar between my thighs. It was clear that she felt the same way.
“What’s your favorite fix?” I asked her while we were so intimately engaged.
Yaneen tilted her head to one side and smiled. “I don’t know, I like ‘em all, I guess. But I do get a special charge out of it when Burch laces my arm up in a singleglove behind me and then works a teaser dildo up into my puss. He secures it there with a bodystrap, of course. He likes to put me on an exercise bicycle after that, strapping my feet to the pedals, and I’ve got to pedal as fast as I can for ten minutes.”
She nodded her head in approval of what she was describing and gave each of my breasts a firm squeeze. “Oh boy, with that gizmo in me, I really get worked up while I pedal. Burch uses a little flywhisk to keep me from slowing down, so I really can’t avoid what happens to me.”
“And that is...?” I asked.
“Well, most of the time,” she smiled, “I shoot off before the ten minutes are up. I’ll bet you’d do the same thing.”
“Amen,” I murmured. “I’ve had almost the same experience while pulling Jason around in a two-wheeled cart at our summer place. It’s private enough so we can do things out in the open, and he really likes to put me into pony bondage and hitch me to that cart.”
Yaneen raised her eyebrows in curiosity and said, “Ooh, tell me more about that! It sounds wonderful.”
I cupped her breasts in my hands once more and made them quiver. “It’s quite an experience,” I told her. “The cart has a narrow tongue – that is, a drawbar -- that Jason fits up between my legs, and then he runs straps from it up to the front and back of my corselet to make sure it’s snug. No bodystrap, so the pole touches my clit directly. He puts shortgloves and a squeeze-bra on me, high-heeled boots but no hobble, and then fits a real horse’s bit in between my teeth. Then I’ve got to pull him around the yard.”
She gave a short whistle. “Wow, what a great workout. How does he tell you where to go?”
“Ah,” I said, “that’s where the bit comes in. It’s something like a horse’s bit, fitting in between my jaws and holding my tongue in a kind of sleeve. The ends come out of the corners of my mouth and bend up beside my cheeks. That’s where the reins are connected. When Jason pulls back on one of the reins, it twists my head in that direction and makes the bit squeeze my tongue at the same time.” I gave a deep sigh. “As you can imagine, it is very effective.”
“And does he use a whip too?” she wondered.
“Not a big one,” I answered, “but a kind of ‘cat’ that won’t cut, even though it stings like crazy. Oh, he’s very good at encouraging me with it! But I just can’t go more than, say, twenty minutes like that. Jason knows that, and by the time I get him back to the barn, I’m just about worn out. Then he unfastens the drawbar and replaces it with a really tight bodystrap.”
I paused and then added, “If I’ve been very obedient, he’ll run a teaser dildo up my puss first, just as a reward. Then, even if he decides to double my legs inside a pair of thigh sheathes, I can wiggle around enough to get some nice action from the thing. But that’s just until he wants to take me himself, which usually happens pretty soon. I guess having me pull him around like that is a major kick for him, since he usually straps me over a barrel and bangs away as soon as he’s got the cart put away.”
“Wow,” Yaneen said softly. “I’ve got to talk to Burch about getting a cart like that. Better yet, Lyria, do you suppose we might visit you at your country place next summer?” She squeezed my breasts together and ran her thumbs over my cones, drawing another gasp of pleasure from me.
“I think that would be wonderful,” I told her. “We might even team up to pull the cart...I’m sure Jason and Burch can figure out some way to harness us together.” Yaneen smiled. “You can bet on that!”
Then our husbands rejoined us, having made additional plans over beer and chips. “Getting acquainted, are we?” Jason chuckled. “Well, I guess a little titty-teasing is always a good ice-breaker.”
Yaneen and I nodded, faintly embarrassed. “Yes, Master,” I answered, “We find we have a lot in common. And my new friend is very good with her hands!”
“Okay, ladies,” Burch announced, “We’ve got something new for you. What would you say to a tug-of-war? In bondage, of course. But first we’ve got to get you down from that comfortable pole you’ve been sitting on.”
Yaneen snorted, “Comfortable indeed! I think my crotch is going to have calluses on it if I don’t get down soon.” Her husband came over to us and unlocked her wrist cuffs. Then he reached out for her breasts. “More likely you’ll get calluses on your tits, kid. Lyria has ‘em pretty heated up, I can see.” She moaned and leaned forward to give him easier access to her thick-tipped beauties. He pulled teasingly at her rings, making her gasp.
Jason started to work on my legs at the same time, freeing them so that I could tip to one side and get one foot down on the floor. In a few moments, both of us slavegirls were briefly free of restraint and ready for our next adventure.
The freedom didn’t last long, of course. Jason was quick to lock my hobble in place again, and then to fasten my hands behind me in a pair of hinge-cuffs. Yaneen got the same treatment at her husband’s hands, and then we were led off to the chaining room for our new outfits.
“Four ‘no-bends’ for each of you should make this interesting,” Burch explained. Well, I thought, this will be something new! Sure enough, the nasty gadgets were waiting for us on a table. I examined them carefully. Apparently Burch had brought them in his car, since I had never seen such things in person before. Burch went on: “Once we get you into these fancy gadgets, we’ll see how you do in a tug-of-war.”
A ‘no-bend’ is a pair of linked cuffs that go on an arm or leg, just above and below the joint. The steel bands that link the cuffs make it impossible to bend the joint, leaving the wearer stiff-armed or stiff-legged and thus extremely clumsy. I waited for Jason to free my wrists and then extended an arm so that he could put the no-bend on it.
It was tight and rigid. I found that I couldn’t bend my elbow at all, and after a padded ball-mitt had been put over that hand and laced up, that arm because quite useless. And when all of my arms and legs had been fitted with the no-bends, I wasn’t sure I could move at all. Yaneen had worn them before, obviously, but she seemed just as hampered as I was.
“Try walking around,” Jason suggested. Well, not being able to bend my knees even the slightest bit, I had to swing each foot around in a small half-circle to get it in front of the other. And I could only touch my thighs because my arms were so stiff. “Golly, Master,” I said, “I never dreamed I could be so helpless without any handcuffs or hobbles! How on earth can I have a tug-of-war with Yaneen?”
“I’ll show you, dear,” he told me patiently. Jason and Burch turned us victims away from each other and then knotted a long nylon boat-line to the front of my corselet. Back it went between my legs, and Yaneen’s gasp told me that the other end had been drawn between her legs and fastened to the front of her corselet. Clearly, the girl who could stand more pressure in her crotch would be the winner! Fortunately, the room was large enough so that we had plenty of space for maneuvering.
With a “One, two, three, GO!” our masters got us started. But without the ability to bend our knees, we had a real problem with traction. I finally leaned forward from my waist, trying to use gravity to help me pull Yaneen behind me. She got the same idea, though, so while we were able to tighten our mutual bodystrap and increase its pressure between our legs, neither of us could make the other move backwards. Struggle as we might, the no-bends left us too clumsy to make any progress.
Both of us still wore our high heels and that added to the difficulties. After maybe five minutes of this clumsy stalemate, Burch said to Jason, “Hey, we may have invented the impossible contest. Let’s take one of the no-bends off one of each lady’s knees, and then see whether they can give us some more action.”
So that’s what they did. But having to work with one leg that couldn’t bend meant that it would get in the way of any attempt to use the bendable leg. By putting my stiff leg out to one side, I managed to squat a little with the other leg and then lean forward against the pull of our bodystrap. ! I could feel myself moving forward, which meant that Yaneen was being forced backward, so I attempted a quick jump-and-turn with my bendable leg to continue the pressure on her.
Her squeal warned me that I had gotten her off-balance. A second later, I could hear her fall to the floor. With the no-bends on her arms, she had no chance to break the fall and so landed pretty hard.
“Jesus, that hurt!” she grunted.
I turned around to see Burch kneel beside her, concerned that she might be really injured. But as soon as he had unlocked the no-bends, Yaneen was able to get to her feet.
She looked at me with a humorous grimace and said, “I guess you win, Lyria. Congratulations!” I made a small bow and smiled at her. “Just luck, dear. What a crazy contest anyway!”
After Burch had fixed Yaneen’s wrists behind her once more and locked a hobble between her ankles, he and Jason retired to the next room to figure out what to do with us girls next. I stood there, still in my no-bends, and said to my new partner-in-bondage, “Honey, now that we’re able to do it, why don’t we do a little titty-kissing while our Masters are away?”
She agreed happily, and came over to me. “Me first,” she suggested, and leaned down to place her warm mouth over my left cone. Marvelous! She sucked and lashed at it with her tongue, working it back and forth until I was humming with pleasure. “My turn now,” I demanded, and proceeded to return the favor with my mouth. Fortunately, the no-bends still locked over each of my elbows and one knee did not interfere with this activity. By the time our husbands returned, Yaneen was as pleased as I was.
Both of us were smiling, but Jason’s next announcement changed our smiles to open-mouthed interest. “Burch and I think you gals will look cute as twins,” he told us. “We’ve made plans for a very interesting way to put you together, and we may as well get started.”
First, we had to be gagged again. Yaneen got a tongue-clamp and I was the unhappy recipient of a very thick dildo-gag. If only Jason hadn’t pulled its headstraps so tight! Then, after my no-bends and Yaneen’s shackles had been removed, we were ordered to stand side by side. She stood at my left so that her right leg was touching my left one. Burch cocked his head and said, “We’re going to need higher heels for Yaneen if they’re going to match up in height.” Jason nodded and said, “Well, I’ve got some lower heels for Lyria, which will produce the same effect, and that’ll save you a trip to your car.” Burch agreed.
And so I was fitted with lower pumps before the actual twinning began. It began with a wide leather belt buckled tightly about our inner thighs right at crotch level to hold us firmly together. Then more straps were wound about our two legs, spiraling down to our ankles and being secured there. They were really taut. Yaneen and I turned to look at each other and grinned with satisfaction. This was going to be fun!
An extra-large clamp was then fitted about our twinned ankles and short chains were locked between it and the cuffs on our free ankles -- as if we really needed to be hobbled! Next came shortgloves for our inner arms, and after each was laced snug, more straps were used to lash them firmly together from our armpits down to our elbows.
It was the way our outer arms were fixed that made this more than an ordinary arrangement. Burch fixed a long nylon rope to the front of Yaneen’s corselet, ran it down and back between her legs, and then Jason made me lift my right arm up and hold that hand back over my shoulder. Burch pulled the end of Yaneen’s crotch rope up and through the D-ring on my wrist cuff and began to tighten it.
By the time it was knotted and he was satisfied, my shoulder was harshly twisted and my hand was well back behind my shoulder, exerting considerable tension on the rope and making it cut sharply up between Yaneen’s buns. A moment later, the men repeated the operation, but using Yaneen’s free arm and my crotch rope. Each of us moaned through our gags at the strain on our arms and the unavoidable pressures between our legs.
We each tried to ease the crotch ropes’ bite by turning away from each other as much as we could and forcing our elbows higher and our hands farther down our backs, but that took serious effort and neither of us could sustain it for very long. At last, we realized that we would have to put up with the misery, for it could not be avoided. With our torsos arched outward and our breasts brazenly exposed, we were definitely unhappy!
Jason immediately added to our misery by bringing out a flywhisk whip. “Let’s get moving, girls,” he said and snapped the lash across our fannies. Those thin leather cords stung! As we stiffened at the sudden pain, each of us pulled harder at the other’s crotch rope, producing more muffled sounds of discomfort. A second blow across the backs of our thighs persuaded us that we should try to move forward.
After a moment’s confusion over whether our inner or outer legs should move first, Yaneen and I managed to take a few clumsy steps. But the strain on our back-drawn outer arms seemed to get worse as we moved, as did the ropes’ brutal pressure between our legs. Jason’s repeated application of the flywhisk to our backs and buns made us moan with pain but did not help us move more quickly.
Finally, Burch said, “I think we’re asking for more than the girls can give us, old man. Let’s try another way to fix their outer arms.” Yaneen and I nodded eagerly at his suggestion.
And so the ropes were removed. Instead, our outer arms were simply pulled back and secured there between us, wrist-across-wrist with a thick strap buckled taut. This arrangement twisted our shoulders back severely, but it was certainly an improvement on the previous tie. And then Burch mused, “I wonder if they can walk with only two legs. Let’s bend their inner legs double and see what happens.”
Jason agreed with a laugh, so soon we found our hobbles removed and our paired inner legs bent double at the knees and strapped up that way, leaving the pair of us to stand on my right leg and Yaneen’s left leg. We teetered warily, not even trying to take a step, until Jason applied his flywhisk to our bottoms again. “Go ahead, try it,” he urged us, with some irritation. We winced and grunted, but hadn’t the faintest idea how one of us could lift the only leg she was standing on in order to take a step forward.
Then it occurred to me that if we leaned to the left, putting most of our weight on Yaneen’s leg, I could quickly swing my leg forward a few inches and thus take a step. Gagged, of course, I had no way to tell her. Instead, I just leaned to the left, making her do the same, and then tried my maneuver. It worked! She got the idea, and next we leaned to the right so that she could do the same thing. In about 30 seconds, we had taken two steps and not fallen down!
Burch and Jason cheered happily at our agility. “Keep it up!” Jason told us, and Burch said, “Way to go, gals!” So we repeated our awkward form of walking, slowly and carefully, until we reached the wall. But making a turn was more than we could manage, so we had to stop right there.
“Can’t make it, ladies?” Jason asked sarcastically. “Well, I guess some people just don’t have the knack for being twins. Too bad!”
Then Burch said, “Look, old man, it’s just about noon. Why don’t we give our lovely friends a little more freedom and see about some lunch?” Jason agreed immediately, and before long Daneen and I had been freed from our complex bondage, or at least to some degree. The men decided to leave our inner legs strapped together, but not doubled, and changed our arm-bondage so that each one’s arms were drawn up in a forearm-X behind her. And our hobbles were left in place. The only real improvement was that we could now move with a little more agility.
Before long, we were led by our breast-leashes to the stairs that would take us up to the main floor. Going up stairs in a three-leg arrangement was by no means easy, but the threat of those leashes was enough to persuade us to try. We did manage it, finally, without needing to be encouraged by sharp tugs at our bosoms, and were husking with exhaustion by the time we reached the top.
Jason halted us just outside the kitchen. “You know, Burch, just watching these sexy chicks go through their paces has left me in a state of, well, excitement. What do you say that we have a go at our lovely wives before lunch?” As Daneen and I looked on with growing interest, Burch tilted his head and appeared to consider the proposal seriously. Which would it be -– lunch or sex?
At last, Burch nodded. “I’m not sure we want to do this in each other’s company, but I definitely agree that I am also in need of serious relief.” We girls sighed with satisfaction and hummed our approval through our gags. So it wasn’t long before we were freed from each other and then led to separate bedrooms.
As I knew he would, Jason made me stand with a heavy crossbar just behind my waist and secured me there with straps from each side of my corselet. With my arms still cross-X’d behind me, I was completely vulnerable to his plans, which included spreading my legs wide with ankle chains and then pulling my head back with more ropes from the back of my gag-strap down to my X-strapped forearms. This of course left me completely open to his assault -- not that I wanted to object in any way!
After a fair amount of oral and manual attention to my grateful breasts, he knelt and applied the same kind of stimulation to my lovelips and clit, making me moan with desire. Only after I was twitching and jerking with unbearable need did he give me what I so desperately needed – an invasion by his wonderfully thick, hard manhood! It didn’t take me long to explode with ecstasy, and it made me even more grateful that he could hold off much longer before cuming himself. Our sighs and murmurs of gratification lasted for another ten minutes before he took pity on my stressed position and released me from it.
Burch and Daneen did whatever they do in circumstances like these, and by the time Jason and I had reappeared in the kitchen, our guests were emerging from the other bedroom. Neither of us girls wore any kind of restraint for the moment, but of course that didn’t last long. We were still enjoying the warmth of our carnal encounters and our men knew that we were not about to spoil things by trying to get away or engage in any other sort of mischief. And without gags, we could murmur our satisfaction to each other.
“Okay, “ Jason said, “lunch ought to come next. Tell you what, Burch, why don’t I whip up some scrambled eggs while you decide how the ladies should be positioned to eat?”
Burch agreed with a grin. “This ought to be a real challenge. Hmmmm, how to let them eat scrambled eggs?”
Well, he met the challenge well enough! Before long, we girls had our legs strapped double again, but separately this time, and a couple of “low ponies” were introduced to the scene. Each was carved from a block of solid oak, maybe eight inches by four and eight inches high, with the top of each one narrowed and rounded. It was clear that we were to sit astride these things. They wouldn’t be as awful as the “wooden horse” we had heard of, but they certainly wouldn’t be comfortable! Our knees would keep us from tipping over, but the pressure between our thighs would be inescapable.
Then Burch went and got two pairs of no-bends for our arms and quickly had them locked in place over our elbows. He moved the oak blocks to face each other and instructed us to mount them. Doing this with our legs already doubled was difficult, but at least we could use our stiffened arms to help. Then came the creative part of Burch’s plan. First, we were shoved forward until each of us could rest the hand of one stiffened arm on the other’s shoulder. He used my right arm and her left to find the proper distance between us.
Well, this just wouldn’t do! Burch brought some thin chains and fastened them from my right nipple-cone to her right breast-ring, and the same with our left breasts so that the chains formed an X between us. And then he tightened them just enough so that in leaning back order to feed each other, we would have to put real tension on the chains. Every bite, then, would involve some moderate pain, no matter which one of us was “serving” and which one was receiving the spoonful.
By this time, Jason had whipped up the scrambled eggs and placed them in a large bowl on the floor between us. Each of us was given a spoon. “Okay, gals, let’s see you feed each other!” Burch said with a short laugh.
“I’ll go first,” I told Daneen, and dipped the spoon into the eggs. Trying to bring it stiff-armed to her mouth, however, did indeed require us to lean back from each other, and Burch’s nasty trick with the chains linking our breasts worked just as he’d planned! “Yow!” I exclaimed at the sensation, and poor Daneen could only moan her misery until she had swallowed her mouthful. And when she assumed the role of “server,” it was she who could complain of the tug at her breasts and I who had to worry about chewing and swallowing instead of giving another grunt of pain.
God knows the eggs were good, though, and the hurt that accompanied each bite was the price we would have to pay, no matter how unpleasant it was. Being hungry as well, we were not about to slow down our feeding rhythm, and so got through the meal as rapidly as possible. When there was nothing left in the bowl, we could lean forward to ease the aches throbbing in our breasts and be grateful that the ordeal was over. In fact, the subtle writhing of our hips announced in no uncertain tones that the “low ponies” had inflicted a degree of arousal between our legs that we had simply ignored during the meal. Paying attention simultaneously to maneuvering a spoon, to eating, to the painful tension at our breasts, and to what was happening to our pussies was more than we could handle. Only now could we appreciate the last of these topics.
Each of us of course had smeared some egg around our lips and chins, which were cleaned up in a hurry by Jason and a washcloth dripping with very cold water. It was not until this final indignity did our husbands begin the task of separating us. Daneen and I both sighed with satisfaction as our arms were relieved of the no-bends and our breast-chains removed. And it was even nicer with the leg-straps unbuckled so that we could stand up once more. Even the 12-inch hobbles locked between our ankle cuffs did not detract from the joy of being at least partially free at last.
“Whew,” Burch grunted, “This has been quite a morning! Do you think a short nap would be in order now?” Jason happily agreed, and then asked, “And I think the ladies should have some sort of rest as well. I propose a nice, comfy sixty-nine for them so they can relieve some of the excitement that is so evident in their pretty faces.”
“Right on, my friend!” Burch chuckled. “Those low-ponies do interesting things to a girl’s privates, even when she’s eating.”
And so we taken to lie down on a very comfortable rug and told to “assume the position.” We both knew what to do, and soon my mouth was at her puss, and vice-versa. Our arms were cuffed behind us, and a broad strap was buckled about our waists so that there was no way we could avoid what we wanted to do anyway! Our tongues were brought into action right away, stabbing, thrusting, whipping back and forth. The men grinned at our moaning and writhing, and bid us a teasing “Goodnight” before going to the bedrooms for their own naps.
Daneen and I both knew that too much tongue-work can be exhausting, so we slowed down to some lazy licking and sucking. The sensations were wonderfully soothing and our excited moans subsided to gentle sighs of comfort. At last, I pulled my head away from her crotch and whispered, “Why don’t we rest for a while, darling, and then see if we can reach one more climax?”
Her “Mmmm-hmmm” signaled her agreement. Believe it or not, we actually slipped into sleep for a while before I sensed by the wriggle of her hips that she was awake again – and interested in some action. That seemed a great idea to me, so both of us went to work in earnest. I pressed my upper teeth against her clit, forcing my tongue as deep into her puss as I could, and I snorted my growing pleasure as she reciprocated skillfully. Twisting our bodies as much as our bonds would allow, we intensified the sensations until I could feel myself on the verge of a fantastic climax. I redoubled my efforts to help Daneen reach the same stage, and at last we both plunged into the fiery heaven of full orgasm. God, that was beautiful!
The enthusiastic noises we made must have awakened our husbands, for we could hear their applause as we groaned and grunted our extreme ecstasy. They were kind enough to let us slowly come back to reality, for they didn’t begin to free us from the sixty-nine for another ten minutes or so. But then we were freed from each other and helped to our feet. “Goodness, girls, you put on quite a show!” Jason said with genuine approval. “It’s a good thing that you’re not together all the time – us guys would be out in the cold!”
Since it was getting late in the afternoon, the men decided that enough was enough for today. Accordingly, Daneen was freed from all her bondage and allowed to put on the clothes she had worn on the way to visit us. A silken shirt provided adequate cover for her bosoms, although they still stood out attractively, and her chain-mail chastity belt had to be fastened in place before she could put on her leather skirt. Burch left her free of other restraints, but assured Jason that once in the car she would be properly secured by a special seat belt. “No need to have her captivity obvious while we’re on the road,” he explained, “but she needs to be assured that she’s not going anywhere without my permission.”
Daneen added, “The seat belt has a bodystrap that runs back under the seat-back and reminds me that I can’t really move. And when my loving Master finds a really bumpy road, he has me gasping at the effects that the bodystrap gives me.” She paused and then whispered, “So when we get home, I’m horny once more. This man makes me love being a slavegirl!”
Cuffed and hobbled, I accompanied them to the front door along with Jason. “What about your coming to our place next weekend,” Burch suggested.
“Wild horses won’t keep us away,” Jason answered. “There’s a lot of new equipment to be used and amusing games we can play, and I’ll bet our ladies will be out of their minds with joy before we’re done.”
That said, we bid our visitors adieu and saw them drive off. “Just you and me now, girl,” Jason said. “But I won’t let you get bored – you can be sure of that.” I dropped to my knees and looked up at him. “You’re the Master I love,” I said, “And thank you for all the fun today. I hope tomorrow will be just as much fun!”