“For example,” he continued. “We know exactly how to flog, cane and spank a woman so that she is certain that her skin is coming off her bones, that her ass is being deduced to a bloody pulp. She is gagged and blindfolded and chained or tied in such a way that she cannot see her own body, but she will feel as though she is being beaten within an inch of her life. You will know what this feels like. I guarantee it. And you will wish for and beg to be released, for the whipping to cease, for the chains to be slackened for just a few minutes. All of this is what you are here for. Enjoy it. It is a matter of our will and our power being used to possess, to own and direct you. Do you understand that?”
Marianne nodded slowly and before she could say another word, Nicholas said, “open you mouth and lean close to me.”
The excited young woman leaned forward and as she did, her coat slipped from her strained shoulders and fell to the dining room floor, revealing her bound arms and wrists. No one seemed to notice. No one stopped eating. A waiter appeared and lifted the coat, placing it gently back around her as Nicholas inserted the leather pear into her wide open mouth and brought the twin leather thongs back, tying them tightly behind her head, under her cascade of dark hair. He twisted the small, winged key on the outside of the pear where it emerged from her widely spread lips and slowly engaged the mechanism inside the pear, expanding it until her jaws were fully open and the leather device filled her entire oral cavity. Unconsciously, she gurgled quietly, trying to adjust to the gross thing in her mouth, marveling at the effects which were well beyond anything she had done to herself in the past or imagined anyone might do to her.
Yes, of course, she had been gagged before with things that she thought were inventive and clever. The common sponge balls, the handkerchiefs, the scarf and tape combinations. The rubber cock that had the interesting serrations and the squeeze bulb on a hose that allowed her to shoot a load of warm cream into her mouth when she rolled over and pressed her shoulder against the bulb. She had even tried fruits and vegetables, carefully sculpting a hard, fresh potato so that it barely fit between her stretched jaws, filling her mouth with the bland potato taste and effectively muffling her ardent test shouts and screams before she wrapped the wide length of stretchy spandex around and over her gaping mouth.
She realized now that even without the binding thongs, she would not be able to extricate the pear unless it was collapsed and someone else pulled it free of her clamping teeth and jaws. Fully extended, the pear became a dual-functional plug that not only silenced her, but served as a reminder that her mouth, as well as her other body parts and openings, no longer belonged to her.
Nicholas pushed Marianne’s long hair a bit more over her face to partly conceal the somewhat stunned, pop-eyed, stretched jaw look she now exhibited. “Now spread your thighs and raise your ass. I have a similar object to insert in your pussy. You will not sit down until I say so.” He drank more champagne.
Puzzled by his request and wondering exactly how she could raise her ass and hold her position on the hassock, Marianne spread her legs, placing her feet as wide as the table legs permitted. Then she cautiously leaned forward and slowly raised her ass, at first pulling the sticky hassock with her and then feeling the top leather peel away from her sweaty butt and fall back in place on the floor. She held this position while Nicholas stretched forward and reached between her thighs, softly brushing the velvet inner tissue that lined the foyer of her sex, then parting her wet cunt pedals and carefully inserting a leather dildoe that Marianne had not seen in his hands. She started as the head of the long prong seemed to insert itself and crawl up the warm, moist channel, nestling quietly there with Nicholas’ light upward pressure.
Marianne was sweating heavily now, the salty drops ran down her back and between her breasts, making dark marks on her dress. She was panting, gripping the leather invader tightly when Nicholas removed his hand, wiped it on the hem of her dress and sat back, watching her carefully. Inside her accommodating cunt, Marianne felt something strange happening. The probe that had so easily slid in was growing, it was expanding as if it had a life of its own and she felt it swelling to fill the dark cavity where few other inert objects had ever strayed. She raised her head, which had been resting on the table cloth next to her dinner plate, and looked into Nicholas’ dark eyes.
“Not to worry,” Nicholas soothed. “It is absorbing your juices and swelling with them. It is almost alive, feeding off your internal moisture. It won’t come out. I guarantee it, and you’ll be able to feel it grow for the next few hours until you’ll feel as if you were being fucked by an elephant, but with what is, I hope, perhaps more finesse.”
Marianne moaned, slowly sitting up and letting her hot butt back down onto the hassock’s now chilled surface.
“You like that?” Nicholas asked.
“Uh, huh,” was the gagged response.
“Good,” Nicholas said softly. “Because here’s another one for your ass. Raise it again and hold that position until you are told to sit back down.” He held a fat, black, leather faux dick with a serrated body and a head that looked almost real.
Marianne moaned again and shook her head, certain that this foreign thing would not fit in her nether channel.
“Raise your ass,” Nicholas commanded and she did as she was told, feeling the thing in her cunt continue to seek every bit of internal space it could find. Somewhere in her head, she wondered how she was going to rid herself of these monster dicks, but that thought passed quickly as Nicholas reached forward with the new dildo in his right hand while griping her right ass cheek almost brutally and pulling the smooth globes of her butt wide. The semi-soft head of the new dick was pressed against her anus and then, with what seemed like unnecessarily rough force, Nicholas pressed it home and Marianne felt her rear sphincter rebel, resisting the intrusion.
“Take it,” Nickolas hissed, pressing harder.
Marianne’s rear gates seemed to relax at the harsh command and slowly, the leather-headed thing pushed aside the soft, now nearly unresisting flesh of her rectal sphincter and entered the secret vestibule of Marianne’s colon. In a few seconds, the thing was deep inside, pressing further. She felt the now overly fulsome feeling of having these two unwanted guests camping in her groin and she struggled to relax her internal muscles so that they might better and more easily accommodate the unauthorized trespass.
This is not what I thought it would be like, she thought.
I always figured that a dual fucking would be gentle and slow and easy to take. This is neither gentle nor easy. My guts feel like they’re going to explode at any minute. These fake dicks are terrible.
Noting her lack of concentration, Nicholas grabbed a handful of Marianne’s dark hair and pulled her head up from the table where it had been resting while she tried to mentally accept this dual violation in a public place.
“Look at me,” Nicholas said in a whisper.
Marianne looked up, startled and perhaps a bit fearful, shifting her body on the hassock, and trying to improve the strain on her shoulders. The leather of the seat was once again warm with her body heat and growing damp from her leaking pussy and simmering asshole. Despite the double fuck she was undergoing, the contact between her bare ass, thighs and the hassock was shockingly more stimulating for her and she realized suddenly that the skin on the back of her thighs and ass was once again stuck to the seat. She shifted her weight, but the leather seat remained glued to her ass.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Nicholas asked, patronizingly, noting her apparent wiggling and discomfort.
“Hummm.” Marianne hummed, leaning forward again, touching Nicholas’ knees with her own and nodding her head.
“Good,” he said. “This is a tiny fragment of what you signed up for. So sit up straight, look me in the eyes and remain silent. And stop wiggling your ass. You are now officially mine.”
Marianne thought back to their earlier contact, wondering how this would all end and still quite sure that this was indee
d what she yearned for all along. She thought back to the earlier meetings. To be exhibited in a restaurant, tied, gagged and double impaled while other people around her seemed oblivious to her plight was more than she ever hoped for. But it was real and it was happening. Marianne remembered her first meeting with Nicholas.
After some elaborate preliminaries while they checked out each other’s credentials, she completed forms and questionnaires on the firm’s secret and obscure website, BremenToolCommerce.com.de. They asked and demanded true and in depth answers to every question, some of which she had no answer for and had to dig back into her memory, searching for details that time and guilt had masked and filed away in the back recesses of her mind. The questions and her answers remained.
Q - How often are you engaging in solitary sex?
A - Once or twice every few days. Sometimes more. Sometimes not at all.
Q - Have you ever been held against your will?
A - Yes.
Q - By whom?
A - Boy friend.
Q - For how long?
A - Two days.
Q - Did you enjoy it?
A - Yes.
Q - Have you ever paid anyone for sex or bondage?
A - No
Q - Who knows about your submissive needs?
A - No one but you and that one man.
Q - How do these needs manifest themselves?
A - I have always been inclined towards submission. I need to feel that I’m being controlled or managed, often by force.
Q - Do you have a collection of sex tools and toys?
A - Yes.
Q - List what you have and indicate how you would rate each item, from one to ten, with ten being the most useful and one being the item of least interest?
A - Too many to list. Vibrators, insertables, anal and vaginal toys of various sizes, bondage devices, rubber garments, harnesses, flogging items, whips, quirts, cats, crops, etc. I really cannot rate them. It depends on the time and place and my moods.
Q - Do you own any locking restraints, such as hand cuffs, collars, shackles, belts, branks/hoods, gags, etc? If so, list them below.
A - Yes. Handcuffs, rope, straps, harnesses, shackles and chains. A head cage that seals my mouth, eyes and ears was custom made for me.
Q - If you answered ‘yes’ to the above question, have you ever accidentally found yourself locked in without access to a key for release? If so, describe how you got free and how long it took. How did you react to this experience? Fear, terror, sexually stimulated, ambivalent? Would you or did you repeat it at another time?
A - Sometimes I think what appears to be accidental is in fact intentional. I misplace a key or put on a hood or blindfold with a lock. I later fumble for the key and cannot locate it. This may happen when I am alone for a long time and no one else is present. The resulting feelings are a mixture of fear and being trapped forever, (which is incredibly stimulating), and also a fear of eventual embarrassing discovery. Eventually, an orgasm or orgasms result. The stronger the anxiety, the better the orgasm. I probably try to recreate this situation from time to time, relishing the erotic result.
Q - Do you have a special cache of sexually stimulating clothing? List the items and as above, rate them as to the most stimulating?
A- Rubber and leather suits, trousers, hoods, bras, a chastity belt/breast harness combination, (which is nearly always at the top of the list), and a dozen corsets, some only waist chinches, others that cover from armpits to mid thigh. The degree of stimulation varies from time to time. I suppose the ideal combination is a gag, hood and tight corset. While this is the most effective, getting into it is time-consuming and the delay of a final orgasm is both frustrating and desirable.
Q - Write an essay describing the experience you would most enjoy if you could have anything you wanted. Make the information explicit as to what you would want done to/with you and what, if anything you would do as well. This is a critical question and your honesty and detail may determine if and how we decide to accept you into our program.
A - Essay - Since childhood, I have always felt strange when placed under the strict control of another person. My mother and both sisters were controlling types, so I was not at a loss at home for this. As a senior in college, which was run by catholic nuns, as soon as I turned eighteen, I thrived on the effects of dominating teachers, especially those nuns who used corporal punishment. Having my ass and upper thighs beaten with a ruler or stick was nearly overwhelming and the nuns of course took notice of this and punished me even more. I got locked in closets with my hands tied, once for an entire day and when they found me that afternoon, I was exhausted from the constant sexual experience.
Men in my life took a different and usually unsatisfactory approach, which is why I selected your organization. Most social “dates” ended either with one of us rejecting the other or a passive sexual encounter, usually unsatisfying because the men, while wanting to control me, also were condescending and didn’t want to be rejected for going too far too soon. Others, both men and women, went too quickly to extremes, applying the theory that the more it hurt the more rewarding it was. I had some close calls with these people, including one harshly beautiful, middle-aged woman who sealed me up in her travel trunk and took me to Monaco on a private jet. There, I was kept chained in a tiny room in her mansion and exhibited to her friends for several weeks while she beat and fucked me senseless.
The experiences I have enjoyed most are two types: those I engage in alone and those I have had with other women or women and men together. Given the choice, I would like to have strong, authoritative men force me to have sex, to endure punishment that involved sex and sexual experiences for long periods. As a reward for this, I want to be able to do exactly what they ask, even if it’s illegal or criminal. Of course, the best part of this, aside from the actual deeds, is enforced training, with punishment. Being whipped all over my naked body with a riding crop is something I will gladly accept, but have yet to encounter.
The use of devices in my punishment is important. A strong man will get more response from me if I am tightly tied to a bed or chair or in suspension while he trains me. Eye contact is often important. I want to see that he means what he is doing to me, not that he’s just doing it to oblige. There’s much, much more here, but I think this is the essence of my desire and my reason for pursuing it.
There was another section of the questionnaires that related to criminal experience and behavior. A few of the questions intrigued Marianne because she had in fact given little thought to that direction of her needs.
Q - Have you ever stolen anything from anyone? (Forget about hotel towels and bar matches).
A - Yes. I got caught shop-lifting once. The store declined to press charges when I paid for the stolen items. I was seeking punishment, both verbal and corporal, but it didn’t happen.
Q - Have you ever thought about participating in a real robbery, like a jewelry shop, bank or wine shop? If so, list exactly what you had considered.
A - No.
Q - If someone asked you to help carry out a robbery, how would you react?”
A - I’m not sure. An illegal act that hurts someone else is not really part of my fantasy. Still, it might be thrilling. I am not sure.
Q - Do you believe that robbery and theft crimes require the use of deadly weapons? If yes, what would you use to carry out a robbery? Knife, kosh, gun, brass knuckles, other devices?”
A – I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. I’m not familiar with weapons beyond a kitchen knife.
Terms agreed upon, releases and contracts signed, payments made in advance, Marianne received written instructions that specified that she was to go to a small village outside the city of Geneva and have plaster castings of several body parts made. These included impressions of her head, face, hands, feet, wrists and two very large, complex castings of her lower body. Weeks later, she flew to Frankfurt from her home, met Nicholas at the restaurant and, for all purposes
, vanished that night.
Nicholas finished his dinner, left half of the bottle of champagne for the waiters and walked Marianne out the side door of the restaurant and into a waiting, shiny black Audi A8 sedan. He carried her coat and as she walked through the restaurant, several people turned and remarked about her arm bondage, many smiling as if they knew what was taking place. What they didn’t know was that she was struggling to hold on to the two internal violators that seemed to be slipping down their respective tunnels, threatening to burst out, slide down the wet inner lining of her thighs and bounce uninvited on the carpeted restaurant floor.
They drove fast and in silence to a small hotel where Nicholas got out of the car. Karine, the driver, then took Marianne to a deserted warehouse on the old Rhine Main section of the Frankfurt airport property. They drove the auto in through an open overhead door that closed as soon as they were inside.
“Please bend forward,” Karine, a stunningly attractive former model who worked for Salmon, ordered sharply as soon as the car stopped in the gloomy cover of the warehouse.
“Mummmph,” Marianne said, hoping this woman would remove the gag and allow her to use a toilet.
“Silence,” Karine yelled, swinging a leather-gloved right hand over the seat and connecting with the side of Marianne’s head, just above the right ear. The noise of the glove’s impact was worse than the blow, but Marianne reeled back in the seat, more shocked than injured.
Before she could say anything more, the right rear door of the car opened and a heavyset man in a black coverall and woolen watch cap reached into the car, grabbed her bound arms and pulled her bodily out and onto the dirt floor, leaving the fur on the car’s rear seat. At the same moment, Karine was out driver’s door and came around the auto quickly, slipping a single cuff band around Marianne’s already bound wrists and closing it tightly so that her hands were pressed palm to palm and her wrists more closely restrained.
She removed the leather thongs. The man in the coverall fitted a flat, leather-covered foam rubber pad, which had a slot for her nose, over Marianne’s face and then fastened three leather straps behind her head, sealing the original pear gag in place and reducing any possible noise she might make.
The Couriers Page 8