The Three Little Maids bondage story | gag, slave, plastic

Lena and I are not lovers in the sense that the term is usually bandied around. Yes, we do make love, often and passionately, and we are greatly endeared to each other. But our relationship is not founded in that strange "chemistry" about which romanticists so love to prattle. You don't understand? That is far from being unreasonable but ... does it matter?

Lena is my slave. She has lived for the past eighteen months or so in my house and in my chains; they have never come off in the whole of that time simply because they can't be taken off without some serious engineering effort. A dozen or so hardened-steel pop-rivets have made them a permanent part of her anatomy. Each of her wristbands and each ankle band is secured with a neat triangle of three rivets the centre one of which holds the end of a chain. She can separate her wrists by perhaps twenty inches but the hobble chain allows her only fourteen... Scandalous? It is what Lena wants and it gives me a deal of pleasure as I observe her going about her duties caring for the house and for me and all the while clinking and clattering as her chains come into contact with almost everything imaginable.

I have to watch for chafe even though I made those manacles with care and I also have to design her clothes specially so that they can be donned and removed despite the restraints. I design them - Lena makes them. Lena is happy; I am happy. So? Ah, you thought that slaves lived in a permanent state of nudity? In that you are wrong. A slave lives in that state that pleases his/her master/mistress. I enjoy contact with a naked female form in the right place and at the right time - I'm not a pervert - but mostly I prefer the female body clothed but in such a way that it is revealed with more subtlety than a sculptor's effigy. The real woman is not only curvaceous warm and soft; she MOVES and it is then that her true beauty can be revealed by the clothing she assumes. I keep Lena in simple flowing light-weight garments and they show what lies beneath with greater effect than would that which lies beneath. The material may be anything from opaque to sheer transparency; what really matters is the manner in which it follows her form.

Our house, though not small, is not by any means pretentious. It boasts four bedrooms plus a very-small fifth that undoubtedly was designed as a box-room. Below we have three reception rooms, kitchen with housekeeper's room off and a scullery. There is also a garden room - a utility room if you wish - that gives on to the seven acres of grounds. A goodly slice of that garden is the end of a section of woodland but, through an understanding with our neighbour, it remains unfenced; we both use it in its entirety. On another border of that wood there lies a small house which is owned and occupied by twin sisters and these, yet to celebrate their twenty-first birthday, had set themselves to make my life miserable.

Lena maintained that they were jealous. "Susie," she declared, "has the hots for you and that is why she tries to drive me away."

"Silly girl. How can she drive you off when I keep you in chains?"

"Isn't that the point? She would like to take my place."

"Hmm. Perhaps we could use an under-slave?"

"Yes. That would certainly make it easier for me to kill her."

"That is NOT a nice thing to say. Not at all funny. And you will NEVER say it again."

"But..."

"You want that gag? It could become just as permanent as your manacles?"

The last thing I needed in my life was a set of warring women but Lena's comment gave me food for thought. The idea that it spawned grew until it lost its sense of the ridiculous and began to look like a reasonable course of action. If Susie - and sister Connie - wanted trouble then I was just the bloke to teach them to be careful in their wishing.

It was just luck - my luck not theirs - that I spotted them from an upstairs window. Clad in hot-summer-day tight-fitting hotpants and tops that were only a triangle of silk-like material that clung to their modesty by a couple of thin tapes, they were making a stealthy approach through the wood. That is not the way friendly neighbours make a social visit and so I deduced that they were up to mischief again. The planning phase of my counter-measures, and the subsequent arrangements, were all in place and I went into action. I pocketed the handcuffs, cable-ties and the ballgag and opened out the stout pillowcase that had surely never been designed for comfort. I left by the back door so that they would not realise that I was on the prowl.

The terrible twins seemed to have disappeared. I made a tour of the entire grounds but failed to come upon them anywhere. Had I been mistaken?

Were they in fact innocently miles away on legitimate business? I could not believe it but, if that were so, the only place that they could be was actually in the house. In truth I had misjudged them - they had been on a good-neighbour mission.

As I entered I heard some strange noises; giggles mixed with incoherent sounds and slight bumping noises. There in the dining room I found them. Lena was stretched out on the table tied tightly in a spread-eagle. She was silenced by a monstrous cloth cleave-gag which barely permitted the escape of a gurgle as she thrashed desperately under a merciless tickle attack.

How dare they treat Lena...? But ... opportunity strikes but once they say. So intent were they on their nefarious activity that, both standing with their backs to the door, they failed to hear my stealthy approach. The pillowcase was gathered into a ring between my hands and held aloft as I reached within six feet of Connie and then it was that the Gods showed me a kindly face. Connie stepped back, her intention being I believe to go around the table to the other side of their victim, but that movement brought her right under my maiden trap. A quick down-strike with a powerful pull and the startled girl found herself blinded and with severely hampered arms. It was but a moment's work to take advantage of the surprise by catching her hands, drawing them behind and snapping the handcuffs around slim wrists.

Susie, intent on her wicked way, failed to notice the attack on her sibling; I was able to push the ball-gag against Connie's lips and it carried the pillowcase into her mouth as I tightened the strap. Even then the Gods continued their favour. Deeming that Connie was well enough out of action without the need to secure her ankles, I reached with both hands around her tickle-crazed sister and seconds later a vituperative Susie stood with her hands fastened at her back as I used a second plastic tie to form a cinch. I dodged the kick she aimed at my groin, twirled her back around to face away and pushed her hands up so bending her over the table on to the supine body of my much-relieved little slave. Two more plastic ties and the only weapon that remained to dear Susie was her voice. That too was easy; I untied the cloth gag they had used on Lena and transferred the soggy thing to her late tormentor... uughhh!

"Are you OK?" Lena nodded her relief as she worked her jaw. "Be back for you shortly, " and I shouldered Susie. My burden dumped unceremoniously in the greenhouse and loosely hog-tied, I returned to fetch Connie. Yes, indeed. They looked perfectly sweet as they writhed side by side in their (almost silent) hog-ties; so much better than our more usual encounters?

Back in the dining room, as I untied Lena from the table, I asked her: "Do you know the nursery rhyme 'Mary, Mary, quite contrary...?"

She gave me a blank look and shook her head. "Oh dear, " I chided. "The young generation today seem never to have had a childhood."

"Master. Are you saying that I am ignorant?"

"I say you are but a slave-girl and that is sufficient? For your edification - and DO look as you are pleased to receive such erudite instruction - the rhyme goes:

'Mary, Mary, quite contrary

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row.'

"Now, I have but two surplus maids and I fear that one cannot make a row of just two. Hence you are to be drafted into the ranks to bring their number up to three. But I promise that, when I have had my fun, you shall have the chance to revenge that unjustified attack of ticklemania."

"But Master..."

"No more slave. Less you want to be a third maid wearing a gag?"

She subsided into respectful silence while she too journeyed, over my shoulder, to the greenhouse. No surprise to find the terrible sisters still on the floor but I was pretty sure that the trench I had dug alongside the path was occupying their minds. But then ... 'twas not for nothing that I had left them beside it? I lifted the fuming Susie and set her in a kneeling hogtie in the end of that trench; then I pushed in sufficient soil to keep her in position. Next, Connie. I removed the ball-gag and the pillowcase and then replaced her gag. I deposited her in the centre of the trench but, being smaller than her twin, I needs must pull her out again while I built up the bottom. Lastly, at the end nearest the door, I set my beloved slave and adjusted them all so that their necks were at ground level.

Ignoring the incoherent protests from the two invaders - Lena was evidently enjoying the situation - I began to back-fill the trench until, using the small trowel, I was able to level-off neatly around the three nodding heads. Next, from the plastic bag by the wall, I removed the three throat microphones and strapped one around each neck; that would allow me to abandon them there to take root while I monitored for safety in the kitchen. There was still the chance of a panic session because, as far as I knew, neither of the troublesome two had experienced bondage and so I waited out of sight by the door. It soon became clear however that fury was ruling the roost and was leaving no room for fear. Connie and Susie fought fiercely but they were to learn that soil - or sand - no matter how loosely packed around them exerts an overall containing force that completely nullifies human muscle-power.

I left them there for about twenty minutes until the wuffles and snorts that came over the audio system began to diminish. If the fight was going out of my prisoners then maybe panic might replace it and so I returned. I started by digging-out Lena; her only restraints were her normal shackles and so I sent her scampering off to take a shower. Next I removed the ball-gag from Connie: "Have I made my point?" I asked.

"You're a mean bastard," she replied. "It's getting very cold in here."

"I believe that's what they say about the grave. "The question is ... are you ready to call it quits? Are we even now? No more raids or annoyances or do I have to leave you there longer yet. I'm sure you can stay a couple of days without risk of growing roots."

She eyed me warily over the toecaps of my shoes. There was little doubt, of course, that I had the best of the situation to date and it was unlikely that two smallish girls could retaliate against one of my physique. It was just that, up until that day, they had got away with their skirmishes and I had brushed them off like flies - probably that had been my mistake. Now, with a forceful reply ... would their bullying stop?

"O.K. I'll take that back. You haven't really been mean to us. I think in different circumstances I might even have enjoyed it."

"Well ... there's always tomorrow. You'd be welcome to join the club. I'm pretty sure Lena won't object."

"You mean she gets a choice. I thought she was a slave in your household."

"Very true. So she is. But she is also a very intelligent girl. Not a good idea to brace her as you did this morning."

"Yeah. I apologise. I'll apologise to Lena too but please ... get us out of here."

I started to dig around her until I was able to extricate her like a cork from a bottle. I cut the cable-tie around her ankles but left the handcuffs in place: "Lena can remove them if she feels forgiving."

"I suppose I deserve that. But how can I clean up with my hands behind like this?"

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"Join Lena in the shower. She'll sort you out" and I led her back to the house.

On my return it was clear that Susie was not in such a co-operative mood and had been made more apoplectic by the fact that she had been left buried while I took Connie to join Lena. I untied her gag and gave her the same choice:

"Had enough? Prepared to call it evens?"

"Go to hell. This is illegal imprisonment and you've got some awkward questions coming."

"It might be your word alone against three."

"Just get me out of here and 'phone your solicitor."

"Oh, well. In that case ... what have I to lose?"

Back went that soggy gag. It was remarkably effective in garbling what she said but it did nothing at all about the fact that she was having a good deal to say. "Am I to assume that you are not prepared to bury the hatchet? Be warned ... I'm pretty fed up with your shenanigans and you can stay there if you so choose."

In a quiet conversational voice I added: "Let me know if it gets too cold in there and I'll put the under-soil heating on. How many days do you think you can hold out?"

That small isolated head fair danced with rage upon the earth beneath. I fetched the bucket and popped it over just to rub in the fact that she was utterly helpless and, leaving her there, I went to fetch the video camera, two shortish lengths of alkathene water pipe and some black adhesive tape. On a sudden thought I returned to fetch also that very-large goldfish bowl. That poor neglected piece of furniture had not made contact with any life-form since the demise of my dear Mother and I resolved to put it to work. Back in the greenhouse I set up the camera on its tripod and then fetched some of the potted flowers and plants from the other side. I set them as a floral tribute about the bucket; those of short stature in front, medium-sized ones to each side and the taller ones ranged behind. I was proud of my floral arrangement and it needed but the one extra ingredient!

I lifted the bucket and a pair of blue eyes blinked in the sudden light ... then they blazed. From behind her I said: "I'm going to record an hour of you as a nodding bloom amongst nature's glorious. If, after that time, you are still lacking in co-operation then, twenty minutes later, your effort at sweetness and kindness will be worldwide on the Internet. Yes! I agree. It's blackmail. And isn't it exciting?"

The plastic pipes were laid side-by-side, taped together at one end and then opened out into a crude W-form which I buried beside the irate lady's head so that they impinged on her left ear. Into the far end of one of these I inserted the large plastic funnel and set it up in front of the greenhouse fan. It caused a pleasing disturbance in her hair and would serve also as a good remote indicator.

Still behind her I removed the gag and so released a massive cascade of most unlady-like sound. Then I lifted the glass bowl and carefully inverted it over her head. It did not silence her in the least but it lent some interesting colour to her vociferation particularly when she had recovered from the momentary surprise. Then I left her to talk to the flowers and plants; birds and bees there were not but the wicked thought did occur that the odd bee could be introduced into that spherical window?

Back in the house a lot of woman talk informed me that Lena and Connie had finished in the shower and seemingly were getting along well together. While I listened to the sounds crashing out of my speaker system I busied myself making a large pot of coffee. Alas, while she remained under my makeshift personal greenhouse within a greenhouse, it would seem that Susie was denied even the wonderful smell of that brew but ... we could always keep some of it hot for her and perhaps, if it should waft in that direction...?

The noises from the greenhouse subsided from a recitation of my pedigree to grunts and, after perhaps twenty minutes, finally to heavy breathing. I guessed that Susie had learned that, even without the primary bonds, there can be no escape from a neck-high burial. The breathing sounds changed and became more urgent and then came a cry - not a scream - not a laugh - not even a ... I banged my mug down on to the table and raced for the greenhouse. Lena and Connie were close on my heels as I entered and I haven't any idea which of us was the more surprised. The two girls gasped in unison as they beheld my flower arrangement but my fears were somewhat allayed when I saw that the air-stream was still gently waving the hair above Susie's left ear.

Susie herself was looking up at me with tear-filled eyes but with a serene look on her face that took me aback completely. Until I realised what had happened to her. She had struggled determinedly for freedom only to emphasise her utter helplessness and that had led her to...? I lifted her glass helmet: "At a guess," I said, "you'd not be too unhappy if I left you there a bit longer? I know you can't shake hands but..." I clasped my own together in front of her: "Will you let me do it for you - for us?"

She looked at me steadily for what seemed an age and then her lips twisted slowly to reveal a row of perfect little white teeth: "Ordinarily ... I'd see you in hell first. But ... I WOULD like to do that again. On that condition ... OK ... shake."

And that is the explanation for the unlikely sight that would greet your eyes should you pay repeated visits to my greenhouse. It seems permanently haunted by a row of three disenthralled heads sitting on moist brown earth, hair spread neatly around to frame tape-gagged mouths. I try to vary the video-recordings by using many different arrangements of the potted plants but, in truth, I am getting a little low on ideas. I need a gardener!

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