Sandy moaned into the rubber ball in her mouth, pulling tentatively at the various chains holding her to the floor. She had actually imagined something like this when she discovered the floor rings. Thus, it was not a great surprise when, after examining the ham and Swiss on rye sandwich and discovering that it held neither ham nor cheese, Jim seized her by the wrists, cuffed her hands behind her back, stuffed a gag into her wide open mouth and hustled her back to the maid's chamber for further training.
Jim pulled lightly on the new clit chain and drew it up between her buttocks and brought it through another ring mounted at the base of her spine on the heavy waist chain. At this point, the chain was split into two separate ones that led over her shoulders and down over her chest where they connected to her tit shackles. Jim made sure these were all quite snug, allowing very little movement. If Sandy tried to lower her body even an inch the shoulder chains tightened and pulled mercilessly on her shackled clit. She immediately found that she could reduce this strain by lowering her shoulders. The relief was short lived because Jim was behind her again inserting a smoothly curved ass hook with a ball on the end into her unwilling and tightly clenched anal aperture. He forced the cold, well-lubricated ball end of the steel hook into her ass and, as she tried to resist it, Sandy moved the wrong way and was instantly reminded of the chains on her clit, lower lips and nipples.
Bound by hand, foot and waist to multiple floor rings, she could only wiggle her ass and hips, trying to dodge the impending penetration of the curved anal hook and its impossibly large ball. She hissed through her distended nostrils as the smooth, polished steel ball pressed into the tightly clenched and now well greased entrance to her ass. Suddenly, Jim applied more force and the ball popped through the tiny portal and the curved hook followed easily. Once the ball was in, the rest just followed. The steel hook entered her ass and slowly slid up inside. It kept going, deeper and deeper until she felt the rest of the hook coldly in full contact with her upper ass crack and then her back. That was when Jim attached the eye at the other end of the hook to a strong, elastic bungee cord that was pulled up and fastened to the back of her gag strap. He pulled her head back as far as the chained collar allowed and shortened the bungee cord so that there was great tension between the hook up her ass and the gag strap. If she moved her head further back, which required effort because of the chain holding her collared neck to the floor, the bungee cord relaxed slightly. If she canted her suffering head forward, the cord tightened the pull on her asshole, forcing her to jack her hips backward and up to lessen the strain.
“Now,” he said. “This is going to give you some additional motivation to learn the maid's duties quickly.”
Sandy whined, unable to move without some chain and shackle tugging unpleasantly at some sensitive body part.
“Let's review your situation, Miss Howell,” Jim said, reminding Sandy that she had on more than one occasion insisted that he call her that instead of the more common “my girlfriend” title that she loathed.
“I think you are now properly arranged for an evening of discomfort and attention to your vital body parts. You are well gagged, sightless, fastened to the floor in no less than ten places, your head is nicely back so that you are staring straight ahead, your ass is plugged with a steel hook, your tits and labia are snugly attached to the floor rings and your cute little clit is bound to your nipples. You cannot sit, stand, walk, or even rest back on your heels because your knees are pulled in the opposite direction of your ankles. The shoes are a nice touch, don't you think, being so constructed that after awhile you will wish they were not there, forcing you into an uncomfortable bent posture that will, in time, annoy your foot and leg muscles. In spite of your crotch being crowded at the moment, I feel that you still lack the proper motivational incentives for this course in domestic responsibilities. What do you think?” he asked sarcastically.
“Muumnik ay unt,” Sandy replied.
“Yeah, you're probably right. Let me see what I might have to take care of that itch,” Jim said as he walked into the maid's rather elegant bathroom and rummaged through the cabinets and shelves. “Nothing big enough here to fit up her gaping cunt,” he said, laughing. He walked back into the room and opened the small trunk that he had earlier placed next to the foot of the bed.
“Ah, just what the gynecologist ordered,” Jim exclaimed, pulling something out of the trunk. Sandy heard him manipulating something metal and heavy around on the floor behind her spread legs, touching the several chains from time to time and then pushing aside the small chain from her clit to her nipples and doing the same with the heavier one that pulled her waist backward. As the heavy chain moved away from her spread lips and open pussy, she felt the soft head of a realistic rubber dildoe being eased up her cunt. It was hardly painful and in a second or two, she felt her body release the fluid that would make the penetration even easier. In fact, she had been yearning for this since the entire session began. Now, she thought, finally, she was going to get off with what she hoped was a monster dick up inside her.
Jim was only too aware of this as he continued to thrust the prong into her, pulling it in and out and sideways just to entice her further. She felt it going deeper and deeper and then settling inside as he manipulated something attached to the giant prong. A pair of cords was being attached to her waist chain and these led to the squat metal box on the floor. A long metal arm reached up from the box and joined the deeply submerged dong inside Sandy and then, without any warning, the thing began to pump.
The “thing,” was your basic fucking machine. It had a setting for a basic in and out drilling, plus an added random, multidirectional movement that was, Sandy quickly learned, the truly diabolical creation of some insane inventor. While the roto-rooter was engaged in the normal in and out motion, it would suddenly and, for Sandy, maddeningly, pause for fifteen seconds or so and then begin a combined side to side, rotary motion that was alarming in its intensity and distracting as it tended to activate previously inert areas of her cunt.
Jim said that this gadget was, in his words, “nothing too sophisticated,” but from her short experience, Sandy considered it to be advanced enough to drive her crazy with its indefinite and relentless ramming and drilling into its targeted hole. The arm moved in and out in a slightly parabolic pattern, causing the probe to not just pump in and out, but also to wobble side to side a bit. Sandy quickly responded and met the deep drilling movement with an exaggerated thrust and rotating of her hips, all the while tugging at the chains on her tits, lips and clit. The effect was monstrous. It took her less than three minutes to have her first orgasm and the thing, of course, having no intelligence, gave her no respite. It simply continued to rummage her exposed hole without any regard for her gagged pleas for some sort of break or rest. The waves of stimulation, coming from all of her various parts, were overwhelming. Her tits were driving her crazy and the ringed, bound and blood engorged nipples tugged relentlessly at their tethers which, of course, tugged in turn at her swollen, pierced and shackled clit. The things in her ass, an alarmingly effective duo of cold, smooth steel hooks connected by bungee cord to her gag strap and the deep penetration of the dildoe, sent confused, but always exciting messages to her already overloaded brain's erotic centers. The thing riveting away in her cunt was the most active distraction. The machine had a mind of its own and was ceaseless in its efforts to drill, probe, agitate and otherwise excite the surrounding tissue and organs.
In short, this new position was a concert of stimulation, a full symphony orchestra of perilously efficient instruments playing a musical score that she continued to try to respond to and knew that there was no way she could stop. Jim’s devices were once again doing what they always did to her. She alternated between absorbing the impact of the multitude of stimulations and trying to turn off the entire barrage and understand what device was doing what to her various nerves and body parts. When Jim first introduced her to the piercing and associated jewelry, it had not occurred
to Sandy that these tiny gold rings and shackles would be used and available for such a broad range of shockingly effective sexual effects. In this kneeling, totally submissive position, blind, deaf and unable to speak or even move more than fractions of an inch in any direction, Sandy was slowly building a great erotic data base in her head and in her body. Over time, even these extreme measures would have the same passive impact as the terrible tortures she encountered in her many erotic dreams.
Suddenly, she was back in real time. To her shock, the damned fucking machine was not only versatile, unpredictable and insatiable, but it also apparently had a liquid reservoir and pump. On certain occasions, after an exaggerated and extended pussy pumping, the thing would seem to shut off in mid stroke, shiver a bit and then pump a jet of some sort of warm fluid into her hole. This simulated ejaculation was one of those touches that Jim loved and he added this feature to the machine after the first few experiments. He refused to tell Sandy, until later, exactly what the fluid was.
In an hour, Sandy became a kneeling, naked, chained, gagged, doubly impaled, sweating, shaking, muttering, sex object with her head pulled back, rigid tits pointing forward at an odd angle and dripping crotch. Whatever noises she muttered into the gag made no sense, even to her. She wanted as much as the thing could give her and more, but she also begged it to stop. In the end, she got neither. Jim returned after what she assumed had been hours. In fact, he had watched her the entire time and made sure that this first session was limited to twenty impactful minutes. He shut the machine off and Sandy slumped as much as her bondage allowed, most of her weight held by the waist chain and ceiling suspension. Jim removed the blindfold and as she opened her sweated-sealed eyes, Sandy saw a large, HD flat screen, mounted on a tripod, directly in front of her. The screen was segmented into four smaller screens and each held a view of a kneeling naked woman: Sandy.
Captured by four video cameras hidden in the room, the picture showed Sandy as she now was. Her maid's uniform was long gone and only the black hose and insane heels remained. Her naked skin gleaming with sweat and the floor around her pooled with multiple body fluids. She tried to refocus her eyes but the images on the screen remained.
“Relax,” said Jim from behind her where she still could not see him. “You're on global TV.” He pressed the remote and the screen quickly filled with a replay of Sandy's earlier performance. She watched stupefied as she saw herself reenact the previous twenty minutes plus the prelude.”Ain't the Internet great?” Jim asked.
***
A few weeks after the initial debut of the mechanical fucking machine, they revisited it in a different format, one that finally gave Sandy an answer to the fluid contents. Jim tied her on her knees in front of the rack with her arms pulled back across the rack bed and her ankles in a spreader bar chained to the rack's base. With her knees spread apart and her body held upright by her pinioned arms, Sandy soon wanted desperately to fuck something, anything. Conveniently, just below her splayed cunt was the usual rigid, stationary, rubber prick. Only with great effort could she lower herself just far enough for the tip of the false dick to barely touch the edges of her cunt. Try as she might, there was no way to get the thing inside her.
In front of her, level with her face, the insidious machine was set up not to fuck her cunt, but rather to probe her open mouth. With her head held in a metal brace and a large metal ring gag locked behind her teeth, Sandy could only accept this latest debasement. She soon had the soft, black dick between her lips and began to try to suck it. A tiny electronic sensor on the false dick soon responded and the machine cranked slowly up to a uniform rhythm while Sandy began to get hot from the thing reaching further and further into her mouth and nearly down her throat. No matter how much Sandy stretched her racked arms, she was unable to get more than a minute's contact with the vertical dildo below her and no matter how hard she sucked and messaged the thing in her mouth, nothing seemed to help. The action continued for about ten minutes with Sandy hot and bothered and the machine pumping anxiously away. Jim sat nearby and watched, handling his own sex just to stay, as he put it, mentally and physically in synch.
When the pumping machine suddenly froze in mid stroke, shuttered and jetted the warm fluid into her throat, Sandy at first resisted swallowing and nearly choked on the unexpected flooding of her mouth. Then she realized that the fluid was, of all things, pure Vermont maple syrup. It tasted sweet and smoky and she swallowed it easily.
“Please note that I added a bit of sweet butter to that stuff,” Jim said casually, as he watched her suck down the syrupy fluid.
“UUUrrrutts,” Sandy muttered from behind the sticky fake prick still stuck in her mouth.
“But you liked it, right?” said Jim, laughing at the small trickles of syrup coming from the corners of her mouth.
“Uh huh.”
Chapter Seventeen
Corset
There were some items of restraint and discipline that Jim knew he could not make. At least not without learning some specialized skills and acquiring additional equipment that was specific for making those items. One important garment that he wanted for Sandy was a heavily boned restraint corset, so he began a search for what he wanted and when he found nothing that precisely met his needs, he made inquiries about custom corset work. While he discovered that there were many retail sources for corsets, both made to order and off the shelf, finding a resource that would make what he wanted proved daunting. His goal was a full body corset that would reach from toes to crown, with multiple adjustable panels at the critical areas: ankles, knees, waist, bust, neck and mouth. This was no small challenge, even for long time corset manufacturers, although one technician told him on the phone that they had in the past, under great secrecy, fabricated something similar for some Middle Eastern royal and that for an obscene amount of Euros, the French firm would attempt to fill his order on a no return basis, all money paid up front.
Phone calls and FAXs made the task a bit easier, but the entire process dragged on and on. After weeks of design proposals, selection of materials and fabrics and alterations to the original plans, he agreed on one special design and the work went forward with what both parties decided would be a less costly prototype. This was a somewhat cheaper alternative to a fully finished garment that could not easily or cheaply be altered, once complete. Jim pondered the fact that since he didn't want the final wearer, Sandy, to know about this work, test fittings of the final product would not be possible. The prototype was a compromise and he decided that Sandy would wear it for a period before he approved the final design. If flaws in concept or design became evident in the prototype, they could be corrected more easily. Nevertheless, the price for the entire project approached what Jim might have paid for a very luxurious new car.
When the item arrived by international, overnight delivery, Jim was pleased with the result, but wondered if it would in fact do what he intended it to do. As a test bed, the prototype was less rigid and somewhat flimsy. The amount of lacings was another problem that Jim knew would exist, but seeing it in reality, he wondered if perhaps there was some other, more efficient way to close the many gaps in the garment. From his research, Jim concluded that straps and lacing were the predominant closure methods not only for corsets, but for straitjackets and other similar restraint garments. His search for something else took him into the realm of high tech materials and mechanics. When he quizzed technical people about his ideas, the most frequent response was, “Well, yes, that's possible, but it would be difficult to actually make it.” In any case, one thing was clear, it would be expensive!
Jim set up the upstairs room for the initial test. Sandy wore only a pair of five-inch high heels - nothing else. He bound her to a suspended bar with her wrists strapped to the ends and thin leather straps on her ankles and above her knees. Before they began, he told her that this was a test and that she should make sure that she would not need a bio break for some time because the testing might last all day. Sandy's response was l
ess than positive and she whined and grumbled as usual while he attached her to the hanging bar.
“Enough complaining,” Jim said, fitting the usual huge ball gag between her teeth. “You are such a nuisance, it's a wonder I do all of these things for you.”
Sandy babbled incoherently behind the ball and shook her head, indicating that she disagreed, but wasn't in a position to do anything about it.
Jim laid out the curious-looking garment on the floor, extending it out from Sandy's feet across the hardwood floor. It reached more than seven feet fully extended, but this length would shorten as the various lacings and straps were fastened and tightened. Jim began from the bottom and planned to work his way up.
The first section was a mini corset that came under her high heel shod feet and wrapped over the instep, the lacings being only three holes and boned braces only a few inches long. The second part came up around her heels and reached all the way up to nearly the top of her thighs. This was one area that Jim agonized over because, while he didn't want her to be able to flex her legs, covering the entire length of leg with one boned unit presented problems for circulation around the knee joints. The designer solved this problem with a full set of steel supports along the sides of the leg, two behind the calves and three behind the thighs. Jim pulled the thick spandex and Lycra fabric up to Sandy's crotch, closed it temporarily with a single thick strap and then strapped and laced in the calves and thighs. When complete, Sandy's legs were fully and immobily enclosed in the steel braced, black, stretchy fabric and her knees were separately enclosed in a complex series of small lacings. Jim tightened the straps and laces again, making sure that there were no wrinkles or creases in the fabric.
“Would you like some company in there?” Jim asked, sliding his warm hand between Sandy's tightly clenched thighs.
Sandy whined into the gag ball.
“I'll take that to be a lonely yes,” Jim said, pressing the slippery end of the slim dildoe into the hairless crack of her sex. Sandy whined, moved her hips initially in a feeble attempt to avoid the penetration and then thrust them forward as the plastic-headed probe separated her lower lips and pushed into the warm crevasse of her cunt. Jim eased the entire length slowly up inside. Sandy cooperated as much as she could until the capped end was flush with her flat stomach and abdomen.
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