"So glad you could come," Richard said, smiling at me, reaching out to give me a cursory but welcoming hug.  "Pete here, said you wouldn’t come, after what we did to you last time, but I said you would, so I win."

"And you are used to winning, I imagine," I responded archly.  My nerves were tightened to the bursting point.  I was, frankly, scared stiff.  I knew they really had it in for me this time.

The other two boys, whose names I hadn’t learnt yet, grinned at the friendly rivalry between Richard and Pete.

"I was concerned," Pete remarked, eyeing me thoughtfully, "in case we were too rough with you last time."

I shook my head vigorously, unconsciously encouraging my shoulder-length tawny hair to swing in its perky ponytail.  "Not at all," I said.  "It was very... er... nice."  I’d been taught as a little girl that that was the polite thing to say.  But it was true, the memory of it was just that - nice, but the thought of copping that again had already tied my stomach into painful knots.  Afterwards, the memory of my first bondage session had been nice, but looking forward to it again was utterly terrifying.  And I felt I was betraying myself in some way by admitting that much.  And having received no invitation from Richard all the week, I began to feel that I’d done something wrong, or that they were disappointed in me.  And then, on Saturday evening, Richard had strolled up to me and said quietly, "Tomorrow... all day?"

And, of course, I agreed immediately.  What else could I do?

Richard smiled broadly, and I knew I’d said the right thing.

"But we did threaten you with more... er... sophisticated things this time," Pete persisted.  "I thought, perhaps, that we might have scared you off."

"But I’m here," I frowned, slightly irritated by this persistent questioning.  I was doing my level best to hide the fear and apprehension I was feeling.  I had debated long and hard whether I would come today or not.  I had definitely decided not to come, but then some nagging little place at the back on my mind told me I would regret it if I didn’t.  I decided to ignore that unwanted prompting, only to be forcibly reminded of the way the four boys, under Richard’s conspicuousness leadership, had aroused my sexual yearnings beyond what I had previously considered possible.  And who could resist something like that?  And I’d decided I could trust them not to let any harm come to me.  I had, hadn’t I?  I wasn’t sure, but I might have.

"I’m here," I reminded them, needing to remind myself that this was indeed reality, and not a bad dream from which I might waken any moment now.

"So you are!"  Richard enthused.  "We ought to get on, Wendy, or we won’t be able to keep you tied up all day, as promised."

My heart sank.  I couldn’t recall their promising anything like that - other than to themselves, of course.  And nor had it even been discussed.  "All day?"  I stammered.  "Isn’t that a long time?"

Richard grinned.  "No longer on a Sunday, like today, than any other day, I believe."

I couldn’t disagree with that expression of logic.  And I knew there was no sense arguing, or trying to bargain with them, for they would simply do whatever they decided with me in any case.  I was completely at their mercy.  But I had only myself to blame, for I had come here willingly this morning, knowing full well what they intended doing to me.

Richard reached out and, without signaling his intentions to me, grasped the hemline of my crossover top, pulled it gently but swiftly over my head.

I gasped at the unexpectedness of his action.  We were standing where we’d met last time, in a shady area to the rear of the house.  I knew they were going to strip me this time, but I expected them to do so indoors, not exposed to the little playful summer breeze outdoors.  I anxiously chewed my lower lip.  This was going to be worse than I’d imagined, and I’d been dreading it!

Pete unfastened the waistband of my miniskirt and slipped it down my legs.  I obediently stepped out of it, unconsciously obeying them without regard to my feelings.

I told myself that my bra and panties were just as concealing as any bikini, but that argument didn’t wash, for I still felt embarrassed and mortified.  And I’d simply let them do this to me.  But, I knew if I hadn’t, it would have been far worse for me.  I could imagine their just ripping my clothes off me, instead of removing them gently - almost lovingly - as they were doing now.  I appeased my spasm of guilt with that thought.

One of the other boys unfastened my bra and removed it.

The breeze kissed my freed breasts with its skittish fingers.  I desperately wanted to hide them with my hands, but I knew that I would be subjected to even worse treatment soon, so kept my hands to my sides.  I would let it happen to me.  I would not resist in any way.  That was how I’d visualized it during the week.

Someone behind me carefully pushed down my skimpy panties, and I obediently stepped out of them, as I had my skirt.  To my surprise, something soft captured my arms behind my back, trapping each wrist to the opposite elbow.  I cried out in alarm, and instinctively tried to free myself.

"It’s a waste of time, Wendy," Richard laughed.  "You’ll never get out of that!"

So I was forced to stand with my arms secured behind my back whilst they leisurely walked round me, taking in every line and intimate curve of my naked body.  If I thought I had been embarrassed and mortified before, it was even worse now!  I wanted to flinch against their barefaced scrutiny, but I wouldn’t give them the pleasure of seeing me cringe.

"Really nice," Pete said, looking me straight in the eyes.  "You really have a beautiful body, Wendy.  You ought to be proud of it.  So proud, in fact, that you ought never cover it up!"

And the others added equally complimentary remarks of their own.  All were delivered with total honesty.

There wasn’t an inch of my body that they hadn’t leisurely scrutinized, but I couldn’t help feeling enchanted by their comments.  After all, I had anticipated something like the lewd remarks a girl has to suffer at the average party when she inadvertently exposes slightly more than usual.  But this was quite different.  Yet again, I was delighted because I was pleasing them.  And, as I’ve said before, that is very important to me.  I love pleasing people who are nice to me.

"Enough of the praise session," Richard laughed, and immediately became businesslike.  "We must choose a location for your day-long captivity.  It’s to be your choice, Wendy."

I hadn’t expected this.  But it was clearly designed to increase my apprehension - which it was doing remarkably well.

They took me indoors for the first time, surrounding me as though I were their prize captive - which I was, I prompted myself.  They frequently laid their hands on me, touching me, guiding me as though I were precious to them.  It was rather nice really.  Or would have been, if what lay ahead wasn’t on my mind all the time.

They took me from room to room of the expensively furnished house.  They said little, leaving me with my own thoughts.  And I was expected to choose one of them, I reminded myself.  But none of them seemed right for what was going to happen to me.  I began to get worried that I wouldn’t be able to choose.  The worry made the apprehension I already felt even worse.

We descended to the ground floor after inspecting some of the bedrooms, and then I was taken down another flight of stairs into a large room under the house.

I gasped, and recoiled with horror, for this large, dimly lit room was equipped as a dungeon, with grotesque implements of torture lining the plain stone walls.  I didn’t want to stay in this horrible place for one moment more than I had to.  If I had been full of fear before, I was overcome with abject terror now.  "Here," I heard myself whisper, without realizing I had made a decision even.  And that single word seemed to echo off those heartless stone walls.

"Sure, Wendy?"  Richard asked, regarding me closely.

I nodded, flustered by the fact that I had decided the opposite of what I intended.  I was two different persons at the moment.  One desperately wanted to save herself from this planned ordeal, and the other was set on throwing me to the wolves, for this room was clearly a place of utter submission, and that was what I had agreed to let them do to me!

"Just one point..." Richard stroked his goatee beard thoughtfully.  "If we tied you in one of the bedrooms, for example," he said, "then we would abide by certain rules of civilized behavior."  He regarded me quizzically.  "Whereas, down here, there are no rules.  Anything goes.  Anything at all might happen to you."

"Here," I said again, slightly more firmly this time.  "I want it to be here."  The torturous part of me that was clearly choosing to ignore the fearful state of the rest of me wanted it like that.  I was to be given no mercy.  I felt I was signing my own death warrant, but the controlling part of me desired it.  And the fearful part of me had to meekly surrender.

"Sure?"  Richard asked me, glancing round at the others as though he had scored another point.  Richard could have been teasing me, I decided, but I didn’t think so.  I knew he was for real.

I nodded.

Before I could qualify that decision, I was lifted up and placed face-down on a padded table in the shadows in one corner of the room.  Leather straps were tightly fastened around my body, holding me down in an evil embrace from which there was no escape.

Without warning, someone slapped my naked bottom.  Hard.

I cried out, as much from the sudden overwhelming sexual desire that flooded over me as from the actual hurt - which was considerable.

The slap was repeated by a different person this time.  They were all taking their turn at spanking me!  What had I done to deserve this?

They all must have had two or three turns, for the blows seemed to rain down on me forever.

And, suddenly, they stopped.

"You were warned!"  Richard stated.  "Do you want to change your mind now?"

I shook my head.  The desire that encompassed my body had taken hold of all my senses.  I certainly didn’t want them to stop now.  Whatever they did to me.  I was ready for the worst!  I even wanted them to hurt me now.  I was totally theirs!

They unfastened the leather strapping that had secured my wrists to the opposite elbow and quickly started to lash my wrists together as before.

Only it wasn’t the same as before.  Last time, I’d been apprehensive and fearful.  This time, I knew, the restriction was going to have fierce sexual overtones to it.  Nor was the binding quite so careful as before.  They were in earnest this time, and the ropes were being pulled cruelly tight.

I screamed aloud as my elbows were drawn sharply together.  I felt as though my shoulders would be dislocated any moment now, but Richard’s calm voice telling me that it was all right soothed me.  They were using much more rope this time, winding it round and round my tender flesh so many times before finally clinching it.

And then they roped my ankles.  The constriction was now intolerable, but I knew they hadn’t finished yet, for they firmly pulled my secured ankles up to my wrists, the contortion of my body being worse this time because I was secured to that padded table, whereas I had been free last time.

I tried to breathe, wondering if I would be able to, the constriction was so tight.  I forced myself not to panic, not to beg them to release me, for I had agreed to this - or I wouldn’t be here, I reminded myself.  But that yearning part of me really wanted them to do this to me, even though it was so much worse than last time.  For then, they had been careful with me, conscious that it was my first time, and they didn’t want to upset me so that I would come again.  Now, they were showing their true selves.  I was their captive, and they saw no need to be gentle with me.  I lay still and just let myself sink into the utter helplessness which, it seemed, would be my lot for the entire day.

"How’s that?" Richard asked.

It was awful.  "It’s like being cast in concrete," I gasped, wondering how I was going to suffer this for more than a few moments, let alone all day.

"We can’t exactly cast someone in concrete," Richard mused thoughtfully, "but we can bury you up to your neck in sand another time.  I’m told it’s almost as good."  His voice took on a sad tinge.  "Though no one has ever come back for a second treatment.  But you might, little Wendy.  We have great plans for you, you know."

And that spiteful little demon within me made me feel that being buried up to my neck in sand might be a thrilling experience.  But I had to get through this first, I reminded myself.

"There!"  Richard exclaimed.  "That should see you settled for a little while. We’ll come back shortly and finish off the job.  Then you’ll be able to settle down for the day.  All right?"  And he gave my exposed buttock a really hard slap that sent all sorts of longing messages flooding through my helpless body.

I could only nod, for I knew it wouldn’t matter what I said now.  But settle down for the day?  Did they really mean me to endure this for that long?  I wanted them to release me immediately.  But did I?  Being captive and completely helpless, unable to move a muscle like this was an incredible experience, which I’d dreaded like fury all the week, but now, now that I was actually living it, I was beginning to accept it as something which I regularly had done to me.  It wasn’t part of the normal day-to-day Wendy, but was an integral part of the other than day-to-day me.  I couldn’t imagine living now without this happening to me from time to time.  During the week, I’d actually found myself missing being tied up!

So I was left alone, and set about enduring the painful constriction of my limbs, my total helplessness, my nudity, for all were quickly combining into an overall ache that was beginning to be rather pleasant.  The only separate thing was the incredible sexual yearning which just couldn’t be satisfied.  I really wasn’t liking this, was I?

There was no sound of the wind in the trees this time, as there had been before, when they had hogtied me beside the swimming pool.  This time, there was only silence - the silence of the tomb.  And I had the feeling that this underground dungeon, which could only be so well equipped for one reason, was totally soundproof.

After what seemed an age but, in reality, must have only been a half hour or so, they all came up to me.  I had no idea if they’d been in the room with me all the time, or if they’d been somewhere else.

My mind went into a total spin.  I had the feeling that whatever was going to happen now was going to be to my distinct disadvantage.

"Now, we’ll get down to business," Richard remarked almost conversationally.

"First of all, a nice plug in that tight little bottom of yours," he announced with a smile in his voice.  "You will enjoy that, won’t you?"

I said nothing.  I hadn’t anticipated anything like this.  Though, to be perfectly truthful, I had no idea what to expect.  Other than that they wouldn’t let me off lightly.  I licked my lips apprehensively and hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much.

I felt something cold and slippery rubbed well into my bottom.  I forced myself to relax, though I was frankly terrified.  One of my girlfriends had told me about being sodomized against her will, and had admitted that it was rather nice when she’d made herself relax and just let it happen to her, and that she now readily agreed to it whenever a boy wished it, so it couldn’t be all that bad.

So I forced myself to relax and felt something hard and cold slide deep into me.

"Good girl," he said.  "But that one was much too small.  You clearly know what to do, so let’s try a much larger one."

The plug was withdrawn, and I prepared myself for a worse onslaught.  Something hard and cold was pressed against me.  It felt huge.

"Relax," Richard said.

"It’s too big," I murmured, then forced myself to relax even more, which made me more tense, for I instinctively knew that he intended ramming it into me, whatever resistance I put up.  I thought of that friend of mine and her experience, and tried to relax as much as I could.

I felt the tip of it enter me a little way.  "It’s too big," I murmured again, fearful that I was about to be torn apart.

"I’ll let it rest there a moment," he said.  "Having got this far, we’re not giving up now."

And the others started gently rubbing my back, tracing the outline of my captive arms and legs with their fingers and playing with my breasts.  I’d always enjoyed lots of individual attention - what girl doesn’t - but this was over the top.  I’d never been so pampered.  I battled with myself to relax against the steady pressure Richard was maintaining on the plug.  I felt it being forced into me bit by bit.  I knew that any resistance on my part now would be futile, though I wished he would change his mind and not do this to me.  But, strangely enough, I was dreading failure more than success.

I felt him increase his pressure, against which I automatically tensed.

"Relax," he murmured.  "I’m not going to stop, so you might as well make up your mind to let me in.  There’s a good girl."

I resisted.  I just didn’t want this to be done to me.

I wanted to cry out with the frightfulness of the situation.  It was like a living nightmare.  I knew he would never be able to get it into me, but I also knew he wouldn’t give up.  He wasn’t that sort of person.  But the many hands tenderly making love to me, combined with the shocking violation that was being forced upon me was an incredible experience.  I simply didn’t know where to localize my thoughts.

"Pretend that it’s Pete who is trying to get into you," Richard murmured.  "I have a feeling that you rather fancy him.  Do you?"

I said nothing.  My immediate predicament was too horrible to contemplate talking about my lovelife.

"He really fancies you to bits, you know," Richard continued.  "If he gets you on his own one day, you’d better watch out, my girl!"

And, suddenly, it was no longer a hateful piece of rubber that Richard was intent on forcing into me, but Pete’s sexual desire.  I also thought of what my girlfriend, Mary, had said about it being rather nice if you relaxed and just let it happen.  I must have relaxed, for I felt myself open and the plug slide right into me.  It was still just as huge, but it was now fully inside me!

"Good girl!"  Richard enthused.  "I knew we could manage it.  Doesn’t that feel nice?"

And the others continued their incredible attention to my helpless body.

And putting it that way, deliberately using the word ‘we’ made me feel for the moment that we were on the same side, whereas he was the aggressor and I was his victim all the way.  "It’s all right," I murmured, for once it was fully in, it immediately began to feel an integral part of me.

Richard chuckled.  "You are really going to enjoy this, little girl!  Now, Wendy," he said lightly, "I suppose you would like a nice big dildo inside you as well.  I wonder how big you are.  You’re not a virgin, I’m sure of that.  Are you?"

I shook my head.  There was no use lying about that, for he would soon find out that I wasn’t.

"Then let’s try this nice big one.  Only very special girls can take this one."

The knowledge that he thought me special made me feel very kindly towards him, despite the outrageous things he was doing to me.  And, yet again, I felt as though we were on the same side, despite my clearly being his victim, and under his total control.  I knew I was well lubricated so anticipated his having no real difficulty getting a dildo into me, but I hadn’t banked on the size of it when he held it before my eyes for a moment.  "It looks the size of a clenched fist!"  I gasped when he touched it against me."

"No hurry," he said.  "It’ll go in.  I know you want it to!"

And he started rotating it gently; sending wild spasms of desire right through me, for the others were still keeping up their continuous fondling of me.  Quite suddenly, I wanted to take every bit of it right into me.  I even tried to pull it into me.

And, without warning, it slid fully in, and I felt I had come home, wherever that was.  I heard myself emit a ragged sigh.

"Good girl!" he exclaimed again.  "That feels nice, doesn’t it?"

I was forced to admit that it did.  I marveled at how incredible it now felt.  The lower part of my body now felt incredibly heavy and full up, as though it had been plugged with concrete.  But, at the same time, I began to feel disappointed that he had apparently finished tormenting me, for the lower part of my body now felt as though it belonged to him - and the others - whilst the top part of my body hadn’t been violated at all.

I had enjoyed the battle of wills - and the ultimate success, which I felt was completely mine. 

Pete knelt before me and, without warning, fastened a small metal clip to one on my nipples.  I felt it dig right into my tender flesh.  I cried out in response to the sudden pain.

Richard laughed.  "I said we hadn’t quite finished yet."  And Pete similarly violated the other nipple.

I screamed out loud this time.  The sharpness of that biting, localized pain was unbearable.

One of the other boys fastened a soft cloth blindfold over my eyes.  It excluded every last glimmer of light, plunging me into the deepest darkness I have ever known.  I shook my head, trying to get it off, but someone securely fastened a strap behind my head.

"That’s the last you will see until this evening," Richard laughed heartlessly.

And for the first time, the sheer enormity of what I had agreed to was thrust into my mind. I wondered how I could possibly survive that long.  The wild cutting agony in my nipples was gradually receding, it was true, but the furious snarl of overall pain remained.

Someone cruelly tweaked the clip on one of my nipples, making me scream out again.  Advantage was taken of my open mouth to force a large rubber ball gag into it, filling it completely. Its straps were also fastened tightly behind my head.  I had wanted to ask if they would release me before this evening, as I wasn’t enjoying it now, but it was too late.  I was fully on my own.  Helpless.  Completely and horribly alone.  I was like a small island in the middle of a very rough sea as waves of sublime agony and distress crashed all about me.  I knew all I could do now was to keep my head above water and not drown.

I heard them leave the room after surveying me for a moment. 

I started debating with myself which part of me hurt the most, but quickly found that all the various pains were becoming a giant inner glow which, I decided, I would force myself to consider pleasant like the previous discomfiture.  After all, it was my solitary companion now.

One or other of the boys looked in on me regularly, and always asked me if I was all right, and if I wanted to be released.  I was irritated to begin with as it sort of broke my concentration, my deliberate sinking into the nothingness of long-term total restraint.  But, on thinking about it, I realized this was a safety issue, and that they were sensibly giving me an ‘out’ should I desperately need it.  Not that I considered it likely, for I had quickly allowed myself to sink into an almost mindless helplessness in which nothing mattered - not even the incredible compacting of the lower half of my body, or the snarling pain from those nipple clamps.  What was nice was when my potential rescuer lightly ran his hands over my imprisoned body and expressed admiration for the way I was suffering this captivity.  Pete did this the best, his sensitive fingers lingering on my really sensitive places, invariably sending my already sensually charged body into wild paroxysms of sexual desire, from which nothing could free me.  The desire for sexual release had become a wailing monster that attempted to overwhelm me completely.

Time drew on, with me experiencing macabre enjoyment when I thought about the gruesome instruments of torture and humiliation in this dungeon which surrounded me.  Although I’d only glimpsed them fleetingly whilst they were stripping me, partly to take my mind off my embarrassment, they remained painted in all their glorious horror on my retina images.  I wondered about a series of cages, some cube shaped which, I presumed a girl could be crammed into, and a couple long and narrow affairs which were roughly the shape of a human body.  Did they immobilize girls into those, I wondered.  And what would it be like?

Then there was a wooden cross like a giant X.  It clearly had no use, other than to secure a girl to, widely spread-eagled.  And then, at one end of the room I’d fleetingly noticed an upright cross.  Did they actually crucify someone down here?  The dread which this line of thinking thrust into my mind became part of the seemingly endless torture I was undergoing.

Suddenly, I became aware of voices.  Several belonging to men - I recognized Richard and Pete immediately - and several others.  And a girl.

I couldn’t make out any actual words, for they seemed to be standing at the far end of the room, but the girl’s voice appeared to be in questioning mode, whilst I could detect Richard making lengthy explanations.  There was no contention, of that I was sure, but the girl seemed to need to be satisfied about something.  She was interested in the men’s replies and eventually appeared satisfied - even pleased - and they withdrew, leaving the room as quiet as the proverbial tomb.

Left in silence again, I found myself debating in my mind why I allowed myself to be restrained in this ludicrous way.  I must get something out of it, or I wouldn’t have come here again.  Did I enjoy it?  I honestly didn’t know.  One part of me hated it, the other...  And that was the problem.  I found it impossible to be honest with myself.  It was such a unique experience.  Nothing in my life until now had prepared me for this.  It was all so new to me.

But being totally secured, as I was at the moment, was liberating in a way.  I didn’t have to be myself.  I didn’t have to be anyone.  I could just be.  And the discomfort from those plugs and the pain from the nipple clamps, together with the cramping in my limbs and back was the most intense sexual stimulation I’d ever known.  There simply wasn’t anything like it.  It was like being in a sexual wonderland from which there was no escape.

And, of course, being helpless meant that I didn’t feel guilty about anything that I had allowed to be done to me, for I’d had no say in the matter.

And so I let the time pass with, strangely enough, absolutely no desire to be freed.  I had agreed to serve this time, so I would do so almost willingly, as an inevitability.  And the enforced inactivity and relatively high pain level that surrounded me on all sides aroused in me a curious outer-worldly sense of wellbeing.  In short, I hated the idea of being tied up, but when I was, I was plunged into another state of being which was immensely satisfying at some deep emotional level.

It was with some disappointment, therefore, that I finally heard Pete announce that I was going to be released the next time he returned.  And that gave me time to prepare for release.  I found myself looking forward to being free again, of course.  To be without this incredible discomfort would be nice, but I began to worry how I was going to face them.  Would they be cross with me?  Would they be pleased with me?  It was suddenly very important to me what they thought of me, for at this point in time I was utterly theirs.

The clamps were removed from my nipples first.  To my surprise, it hurt almost as much taking them off as it had when Pete had put them on, so I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.

Then the dildo and butt plug were removed, and I felt suddenly very empty and bereft, for they had, during the day, become my friends - possibly the closest friends I’d ever known.

I had to keep my eyes closed to begin with when the blindfold was removed, despite the gloom in the dungeon, and I found it impossible to talk when the gag was taken from my mouth because my jaw had gone to sleep.  They had to massage my limbs a long time before I could move again but, finally, I was able to stand up.  And without thinking, I went straight into Pete’s arms and let him clasp my incredibly sex-aroused nakedness to him.

"Did you enjoy that, Wendy?"  Richard asked from behind my back.

I said nothing.  It was so nice being in Pete’s arms that I didn’t want the bother of having to talk, or even think just then.

"Tell him the truth," Pete urged me.  "It’s important that we know."

"I enjoyed it," I admitted, feeling guilty for the first time that day, for it really wasn’t the truth.  But what was the truth?  It hadn’t been exactly enjoyable but, nevertheless, I was hooked.  Something within me simply needed this done to me.

"That’s good," Richard smiled.  "Now Pete has something to ask you, I believe."

Pete grasped me extra tightly to him for a moment, and then said slightly hesitantly, "We are all going to a party next Friday evening, and it would be nice if some of us can give someone special to the group as a bondage victim.  I should like to give you to them, Wendy.  Could I?"

The inevitable barb of terror shot through me.  I was on the point of shaking my head, when I heard myself say politely, "I would like that."  I was yet again a victim to a part of me I couldn’t even begin to understand.

"Until next Sunday evening," Richard remarked, sounding very pleased with himself.  "Pete will call for you."

I wanted to ask what was likely to happen to me at that party, but someone handed me my clothes, and Pete fondly helped me to struggle into them, for I was still rather stiff from the day-long restriction I’d endured.  I would just have to wait and see what next Friday provided.

End