The Third Week bondage story | gag, boots, cuffs, gagged

She didn't mind losing the bet. After all, the forfeit was not at all to her dislike. She spent the remaining ten days trying to imagine what was going to happen? What scenarios had he dreamt up for that week in the wilderness cabin?

She did think, with a delicious little shiver, that it was just as well she was able to trust him... explicitly. After all to go with a man, and a strong man at that, to a remote cabin that was miles from anywhere, and allow him to make her into a helpless captive? She wouldn't have any say in the proceedings once he had tied her, or cuffed her, or chained her, or...

She shivered again. She was going to forego all safewords and signals so as to be truly an imprisoned damsel. She had this aching desire to know what it was like to be as one of those characters she had fantasised about from films and television. Women taken against their will and held helpless in real bondage, gagged and bound.

The ten days dragged to an inevitable end and, after an early breakfast, she waited with mounting excitement for the sound of his car as he came to collect her. "No need for luggage," he had instructed her. "I'll bring what supplies we'll need and you won't need clothes other than those you come in." That must mean she was going to be held naked as well as gagged and bound. But what was she going to do for six whole days tied up, unable to talk... and he ought to blindfold her so she could not identify her kidnapper. Without clothes - it could get cold up in them thar hills!

He arrived with two honks on the horn and bade her get in. "Hurry girl!"

Huh? Does it need to start already? He drove only a short distance and then turned off on to a dirt road that headed straight into woodland. He stopped the car, switched off the engine and got out. Round at her door, which he snatched open, he pointed what looked like a gun and snarled: "Don't make a sound unless you want to see a hole. Get out and kneel on the ground."

She was a little disconcerted by his abnormal tone and bearing but, with a little tingling feeling, she obeyed. He drew her hands behind her and secured them palms out with hinged cuffs. He secured her ankles with a similar pair of cuffs and then blindfolded her. She was beginning to enjoy the proceedings when he suddenly grabbed her jaw which forced her to open her mouth and pushed in a ball-gag. Next came a normal pair of cuffs with which he locked her hands and feet together and there she had it - completely helpless.

The next bit was not quite so much fun however. She heard some familiar sounding noises which, in the excitement of the moment, she failed to identify but he quickly provided the explanation. He must have been opening the boot. Lifting her he turned her from her sitting hog-tie to lie on her side in the car's boot and then packed cushions around her. It made little difference to her when he closed the boot because of the blindfold but she was left to wonder how long she would have to endure this. But then, real kidnappees simply had to get on with it...?

Hi! I thought people weren't supposed to be left without supervision when they were wearing a gag? But the words stayed were they were born. There was nowhere for them to go. And anyway it wasn't as though she had never been gagged before?

At first, as he backtracked over the dirt road, she was very uncomfortable, as each and every bump seemed determined to eject her from the vehicle but eventually, after a short stop, things became very smooth. Now she had another worry. What would happen if the police stopped them for any reason and searched the car? Should she behave like a real kidnappee and accuse him of... but that would end the week before it had even started. And her week's leave would be wasted! No. She would have to confirm his story; back him fully. Did that perhaps explain why he seemed to be driving very steadily? Not that he was ever a reckless driver and, for that matter, she had never ridden in a boot before. Let alone bound and gagged. She smiled to herself as much as the ball behind her teeth would allow. But he was undoubtedly driving with great care.

But, just as she was settling to the ordeal, there came a new worry. What if some other lunatic were to ram them in the rear? Would she be squashed? If the car caught fire? After all what little she knew about cars told her that she was packed right on top of the fuel tank.

They were stopping. No slowing. Once again she was subjected to a bumpy ride and then they stopped. He opened the boot, removed the cushions from around her and lifted her out. It seemed to be very quiet although there was a familiar background noise - ah! Trees. They were in woodland... but we can't be there already, surely?

He left both the blindfold and the gag in place and asked if she needed a loo break.

She nodded yes. But it failed to produce the expected release. He lifted her skirt, pulled down her panties and supported her in the "appropriate position". She was outraged; that certainly came under the heading of taking liberties. But... er... she couldn't even say it. She was his to do with as he pleased? Lesson number one from the hostages manual.

He left her all bare behind and began to loosen the gag: "Not a sound," he said sternly. "I'm going to give you a drink but, just one tiny squeak, and you go thirsty for the rest of the journey. You understand?"

It took a moment to sink in. Then she nodded slowly. He eased the ball from her mouth and replaced it with a small nozzle from which water began to trickle. Yes, he was being considerate and she hadn't realised how dry that gag had made her. When she had taken on board what he considered to be enough he removed the bottle: "Open wide." He put in a much smaller ball and this time sealed her mouth with several layers of duct tape.

Much more comfortable... but... if they were out in open country... why in hell did he need to keep her gagged? Oh well, she supposed there could be many hazards in the life of a kidnapper and it most certainly was NOT hers to reason why. Certainly a real kidnapper wouldn't want a captive girl screaming from the boot while he was fending off nosey coppers?

Back there in her steel prison and steel restraints the world was strangely different. The predominant noise, instead of engine snarl and wind-whistle, was a constant singing from the tyres as they spurned the road. The sound rose and fell slightly in pitch as they accelerated and slowed. As she had read of any good abductee, she concentrated on that sound and tried to follow the road. But, if it sounded easy for the heroine in a book or film, it proved to be a load of codswallop in practice. With nothing else to do she kept her mind on the job... but slid slowly into an uneasy doze.

The blast of cool air as he opened the boot awoke her with a start. She was stiff and cold and aching in places she never had known she possessed. He pulled out the cushions and dropped them on the ground, lifted her out on to the cushions and then unlocked the handcuffs that were holding her in that hog-tie. Gently he eased her legs toward the straightness that was their natural right.

Again he warned: "Not a sound", removed the gag and offered her a drink. He was talking again: "We're off the main road now and not likely to meet anyone at all let alone a policeman. And it's getting real cold. I'm going to put you inside the car but only on the condition you behave yourself. Understand?"

Oh, yes. She understood. She was now in the state where she would agree to just about anything if it would keep her from going back into that claustrophobic whining prison. "Please," she whispered, "not the hog-tie."

"You know the conditions. Just one little squeak and I'll hogtie you until your feet are around your neck."

She didn't believe that for a moment but was feeling strangely subdued. Just supposed he kept that threat? Could he be so far into his kidnapper's role that he had forgotten who she really was? She would have remonstrated but he clapped a hand over her mouth: "Careful!"

Leaving the cuffs on her hands and feet he lifted her on to the back seat of the car, face down of necessity, and used all three sets of seat belts to secure her there. He pulled a car rug over her and then closed up the boot. As he climbed back behind the wheel and fired up the engine, there came a welcome blast from the heating system. Soon, very soon, she was asleep.

During the week that followed he gave her everything that she had craved... although perhaps she no longer craved it quite so heartily. Exhausted from her ordeal in the car boot, and revelling in the warmth of the interior, she had fallen into a heavy sleep from which she had not awakened when they reached journey's end. She awoke in the early hours of a morning to find herself snuggled under blankets in a small room but her nose was telling her about the low temperature of the air. Yes - the mountain cabin.

It was an unconscious gesture, to raise her hand to rub that cold nose, but it produced a small panic when she found that neither of her hands would respond. They were tied together and the rope had been passed around her waist. From a very quick experiment she learned also that her ankles were tied together and that a chain was securing them to some point at the foot of the bed. She was no longer gagged but, apart from considerations of safety, it was more than doubtful that anyone would hear her no matter how loudly she could scream?

A visit was not an absolute necessity but it was at least a good excuse and she called. A metallic voice from a small unit beside her answered her third effort: "Wake me again, woman, if you want the gag back."

"But I need to... "

"Tough!"

She lay for several minutes turning that over in her mind. It wasn't at all like Mike but then... she had said she wanted realism? The loo visit wasn't urgent but the gag she just couldn't get enthusiastic about and so, as she pondered, sleep overcame her once more.

Yes. In its way she had enjoyed the week. There had been several scares, periods of extreme discomfort, others of difficulty when he had set her to chores but kept her in restraints. He had used cuffs, cuffs with chains, rope and plastic cable-ties. Those last had fascinated her; she had been unable to stretch them and so he was able to tie her quite loosely and yet without the remotest hope that she could wriggle free. Once he'd zipped them to the desired setting and then cut off the extended tongue she was held inescapably in a very neat binding. She found it particularly arousing to be held loosely yet inescapably.

From time to time he had insisted on silence from her and had reinforced his demand with gags of various sorts. Again the one that intrigued her the most was a ball, of smaller size than usual, but threaded on a wide plastic strap and the mere association of the plastic strap was enough to get her wriggling in her bondage.

Amber Michaels in bondage pictures and video galleries:
tied in black bra	bound in white bra	crotch rope bondage pics	Amber Michaels in bondage

He'd used duct tape too on one occasion and she had marveled at his apparent reckless disregard of expense. He'd wrapped it about her body as though there were no tomorrow and, as new roll succeeded new roll and her body disappeared under layer upon layer, she found herself lying like an ancient mummy on her bed. The only part of her that would move was her hair that insisted on plastering itself across her face.

But Friday had come and soon the expedition would be over. She'd tried to decide whether she would be sorry to be free of her captivity or if, perhaps, she would be quite happy were the "ransom" not paid. She waited for his return simply because there was no other choice; her hands were shackled by two short chains to ring bolts set low in the cabin wall. Higher up she could see two other bolts which presumably had been set so that a captive could be spread-eagled against the wall ...she speculated idly on whether it would be face to the wall or face out?

She stretched out her hobbled legs and imagined again what it would be like when she again had the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Great though the week Had been she was beginning to find that perpetual bondage had its downside? But the dreams began to fade as her enforced wait drifted into its third hour; what the hell was he doing? There wouldn't be any point in fetching more supplies from town, as they would be leaving on the following morning. Around the cabin there was precious little that could keep him occupied for three hours? Taking a long walk? Hardly likely but whatever his activity she wished he would remember that she had been left behind and unable to do anything - anything at all - for herself. Sitting there and getting cramped she was helpless and defenceless.

She heard a car approaching. There had been no such sound when he left. Good God; she was vulnerable as hell! Briefly - and futilely - she tugged on those chains but they held her as securely as ever.

To her very great surprise he came in carrying stores enough for at least another week; what the devil was he thinking about? Trust a man ...

"I'm hungry," he said abruptly. "You'll need to be speedy with supper."

"Where the devil have you been? Forgot you left me here?"

"Hold your tongue woman unless you want me to hold it for you. Been to town for stores. We were just about out." He bent to release the chains and substituted handcuffs. He left the leg cuffs where they were.

"But why more...? We'll be going tomorrow."

"No. I've decided to wait one more week. They won't find you and so... they'll pay."

"But you can't. I'll lose my job. I only had the one week."

"That wasn't a problem. I 'phoned in from town - you're sick."

"Hey, wait a minute. You've no right without asking..."

He cut in rudely: "I'll not tell you again. Quiet! I'm keeping you another week. There's not much you can do about it. So get on with that meal."

Now, as she walked into the familiar office, it all seemed very long ago. That second week had dragged and had brought home to her the reality, the horrid reality, of being forcibly held. He had not relaxed the bondage for one second right up to the time he had delivered her back to her home. Then he'd kissed her good bye as though nothing had happened and driven off without even suggesting he went in with her. What had happened to him; he'd not been like that when the adventure started?

Rita buttonholed her: "Boss wants to see you the moment you get in. His office."

That was unusual and her heart sank. It had to be about her unauthorized extended leave? It looked as though he was going to take a tough line. Why else summon her to the office so peremptorily? She knocked and, at his call, opened the door and entered. He took his time before noticing her presence.

"You overstayed your leave," was his uncompromising start.

"Yes. I... I'm sorry sir. I was taken sick."

"So I was given to understand." He had opened a drawer and threw a pair of handcuffs on to the desk. "It was steel-poisoning, I believe?"

How could he...? She felt herself shrinking. Bad enough to be caught out in a lie but that was nothing to the embarrassment of admitting her kinky longings.

"You do realise that there are more than sufficient grounds for your dismissal? Instant dismissal?"

"I think it would be a... er... rather harsh judgement, sir... but I can only ask for your... er... mercy I suppose is the word. In fact it wasn't really my fault. My boyfriend decided at the end of the week that he didn't want to give me up. Locked up in things like that - I couldn't do much... " She trailed off in despair. "Please," she continued, "I do need this job very much."

"Not badly enough to honour your obligations, it seems?"

"Sir, please. If I can make amends in some way... I'd be very willing."

He sat a full minute regarding her. Then: "How far WOULD you go?"

"Sir?"

"You like bondage it seems. Would you be willing to become my slave, to be held in bondage until I consider your release? At least one week - the time you owe me -would ensure you keep your job."

She hesitated. It was a hell of a risk. "Of course, you could prosecute that damned fool of a boyfriend; illegal imprisonment, abduction, even rape?"

"Oh, no sir. Please, I couldn't do that to him. None of those things would be true. I'll agree to your terms... I don't like it but..."

"Come here. Turn around."

Trembling, she obeyed him slowly. He pulled her hands behind her back and fastened them with the handcuffs. Then from the drawer he produced a bright-red ball gag and strapped it very tightly into her mouth.

"This way." He led her to a door at the side of the room and opened it to give her passage first. "I have a few things to do but my son will see to your incarceration. You will see that he gets full satisfaction." And he closed the door behind her.

A well-dressed young man rose at her entrance. At first she failed to recognise him perhaps because she was too miserable to look at him properly. And then, "OOMMMPPHH" which is what the gag made of the word, "You".

He seized her around her waist, carried her to his deep armchair and seated himself with her in his lap. "Now," he began, "we can start that third week. But first you must understand that your job here has gone... for good. Can I interest you in a little trinket? It has the shape of a certain type of gag but, should you put it in your mouth, I'm afraid you might swallow it. I must tell you too that it would be an expensive error and, possibly, I would have to keep you confined until it could be rectified."

She was unable to make a reply and so the shortage of breath was not important.

When she had recovered however, she nodded vigorously.