Bound In Leather 13 - free bondage story


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In the morning, the bridle went back and the bondage became more stringent for a while. After breakfast-which my bride had to make for me, since Fifi was still wrapped up like a cocoon on the front porch-I went in to the nearby town to buy a Ping-Pong ball and some coloured drawing inks. I had had an idea.

On my retum, I was met at the door of the cottage by two delightful-looking maids in uniforms. These consisted of stiffly starched, blue linen tunics, very tight-fitting from the ultra-high, stiff collars down to the wasp-waists. Below this, the skirts sprang out very full and stiff, but were short, with narrow lace ruffles around the tops of the legs. The stockings, of a champagne tint, came right up under these skirts (I found out later that Nicki and the others did not go in for the Can-Can style of a flash of bare thigh above the stockings until late in the afternoon, ore more usually, early evening) and the shoes were plain black pumps with six inch heels. To finish off the girls wore plain caps and matching simple aprons and cuffs in white. Perhaps the most striking thing about the outfits was the way the girls stuck out in back. At first I thought they were wearing bustles, in the Gay Nineties manner. Then I saw they were being forced, in some way, to bend their backs so steeply that the upper spine and lower spine made almost a right-angle bend at waist level. The effect was to make them thrust their bosoms forward in front and rearward in back. 

"Hi, boss! How do you think we look?" Nicki greeted me, turning in profile, to give me the full effect. "Like a couple of pretty pouter pigeons," 

I grinned, and asked, "How on earth do you get that effect?" 

My wife explained and demonstrated that they were wearing what she called "German spine-benders," which were strips of steel an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick which ran from the top of the collar down the back, under the body and up in front; where the steel emerged in front, it forked, and the two arms of the fork continued up in front, following the line where the thigh joined the body, almost to the waist. Since the steel was curved to fit against the body all the way, and to force the spine into the curve desired, the wearer had no choice but to conform to the exaggerated curve required. The steel was worn next to the body, beneath the underclothing and corset, so that it was invisible. Only the effect could be seen. After the demonstration was complete, my wife smiled and said: 

"Now if you'll limit our freedom and silence us, we'll get along with the house-work." 

The silencers came first. These were in the form of ball-gags of a special type split in the middle with a hinge at the back of the mouth. After the ball was forced into the mouth-a matter of some difficulty, because of its size-a metal bar was passed, bit-wise, between the teeth, forcing the two halves of the ball apart and the jaws wide open. Most gags are secured as high behind the head as possible, as the wearer is usually required to carry her head high. These ball-gags were different. The bars were held in place by chains, the ends of which were locked together behind the head, but as low around the base of the neck as possible. This, dragged the lower jaw back and down and made the wearer tilt her head steeply forward, enforcing a look of shyness that was most delightful. an interesting refinement was the fact that a steel eye, attached to the spine bender, emerged from the collar at the back, and the bit-chains were padlocked to this. As a result, the victim was unable to turn or move her head in the slightest, but was required to look at the ground in front of her feet, like a shy school-girl. To permit my pretty maids' freedom, yet allow them to do some work, they each wore a separate cuff on each wrist. From each cuff, a long chain went back, under the body and up to fasten to the ends of the bit that held the ball-gag in place. The chains were of such a length that the wearer had a good deal of freedom at waist height and below, but if she tried to get her hands to her mouth the chains drew tight and applied pressure to the bit and hence to the gag. Since their heels were only six inches high, I made each girl wear ankle-cuffs, joined by about ten inches of chain, to keep her stride within modest, feminine limits.
Their restraint complete, the two silent maids curtsied prettily started to work. They emptied ash-trays, straightened magazines, one got the dust mop and the other the floor-sweeper. They went to it with a will and as much speed as their limited freedom permitted. But every move was planned to catch my eye. As Nicki leaned forward to fluff up a sofa cushion, (and the steeply arched rigidity of her spine forced her to do all the bending from the hips), she would face away from me and place her legs tightly together, so that I would get the full benefit of the dark seams of her stockings, running straight as a die up the back of her lovely legs. Both girls made the most of every opportunity of demonstrating the fact that the neat short paces their ankle chains enforced should as they walked. 

Finally, when the rest of the place was straightened, the two maids headed for the bedroom, and I chased Fifi into the kitchen and told her to start getting lunch ready. Nicki had to make the bed by herself. Then I released her hands and removed her gag and told her she could rest a while before changing her clothes for lunch. While she was resting, I strolled out to the kitchen to see how Fifi was coming along with the lunch. 
Just before lunch was ready, Nicki came swaying gracefully into the living room, her carefully cultivated figure shown off in all its arrogant artificiality by her costume. She still wore the same super-long stockings, but everything else had changed. Her pretty feet were propped up by brilliantly polished, brown kid pumps, with slim, seven inch heels and ankle straps to hold them snugly in place. Above the stockings she wore shorts of brown rubber. Never have I seen such snug-fitting pants; her stocking tops, the four short, ultra tight suspenders to each leg everything beneath them showed through quite clearly. The tiny stiff corseted waist was accented by a narrow brown leather belt, pulled in as tightly as possible. Above the waist for contrast she wore a very full-fitting, off the-shoulder blouse of heavy, white satin. The long sleeves ended in tight cuffs, which showed that, for once Nicki wore no gloves. 

"I don't think you've ever seen me in shorts have you boss?" 

Hands on slim hips, she turned to display her figure from every angle. While I told her how lovely she looked, she looked up at me and murmured: 

"I don't know how you feel about it, chief, but I feel more attractive when I'm helpless." 

"Of course," I answered, "any girl is more attractive when she is helpless and that seems to go double for you, since you get so much enjoyment out of it." 

"That's what I hoped you'd say," she smiled. "Just a second," 

and she bustled out with a charming air of importance. In a moment, she returned carrying an odd-looking garment in soft, brown leather.
She handed it to me, saying: "'This is a new kind of straitjacket I just had made up. I haven't even tried it on yet. Let's see how it fits." 

Basically, it was cut like an Eton jacket, extending from a low collar to an inch or two below the waist. It opened down the back and I held it while Nicki slipped into it. Settling it around her figure, I pulled up the lace fastening that ran down the back; it fit perfectly. The sleeves were about a foot longer than her arms and tapered down into long straps, one of which ended in a buckle. 

"How do these work?" I inquired, 

"cross the arms in front and then buckle the ends of the straps in back?" 

"What! That will make me hunch my shoulders forward awkwardly. Just the opposite, chief. Cross the arms in back and buckle the strap in front." 

Quickly, I placed her arms as required and pulled the strap tight. 

"There! Isn't that better? Doesn't it make me hold myself nicely?" she inquired, admiring herself in a nearby mirror. 

"I'll say it does," I answered sincerely, then asked, `What is this strap hanging down in front for?"

 "Oh that goes underneath and up to a buckle at the back. Will you pull fit up, please?" I did, and Nicki looked adorable. 
Nicki and I were just enjoying her straitjacketed helplessness when Fifi came mincing in with a pre-lunch cocktail. As she came toward us, she looked like the typical Victorian domestic; with her German spine-bender and ball-gag still in place. Her head was tilted shyly forward, while she was forced to move with a swaying of the hips. Her steel grey satin uniform extended from a high collar, right down to the floor and the big leg-of mutton sleeves concealed the arm-corsets which obviously made her elbows rigid. Her big apron, of white was stiffly starched and crackled crisply as she moved. 

"There!" she smiled proudly, "didn't I fix her up to look every inch the modest servant of the 1890's?" "

You sure did." "Umm-mm. Don't be too sure, boss," she grinned. "Turn around, Fifi." 

Fifi revolved on her high heels and I got quite a shock, because those same seven-inch heels, her dark opera-length hose and short skirt were displayed. 

The skirt, while full-length in front, was cut to the knees at the back. The contrast between the conservative front view and piquant rear view was quite amazing.  In a moment, she turned to face me again, leaning forward stiffly from the hips as she offered her tray. On it, in addition to a very large Manhattan cocktail, was the blind-fold part of her leather branks.

"We thought you might care to be served lunch by a blind maid-especially as I'm so helpless," Nicki explained. 

"Good idea," I agreed, then inquired, "but why the blindfold? Why not one of those leather discipline helmets?" 

"Oh, because it's impossible to move around blindfolded if you have anything over your ears. It's hard enough to hear echoes from furniture and things, but it's out of the question with your ears stopped, even lightly." 

"I get it, " I nodded, standing up. "Come here, Fifi, let us fix you." 

With an air of shy unwillingness, the French girl came closer. In a very short while, I had the straps and pads in place and pulled up to the point where my silent victim squirmed uncomfortably. She had to be careful, however, as she still held the cocktail tray and full glass. When her blindfold was adjusted to my taste, I sat down again and made Fifi stand beside me with her tray, so I could reach the glass easily. The drink finished, I told Fifi to serve lunch, and my bride and I went out to the glassed-in porch, where the table was prepared for us. On the way, I picked up a length of rope and explained to Nicki I thought I would tie her to her chair.

 

"Thank you," she smiled. "I was hoping you would. Of course, I knew you'd tie me if I asked you to. But it's nicer not to have to ask." 

A short while after finishing my drink, as my wife was tightly corded to her chair, I took two more turns of the rope around her slender waist, then brought the ends back under her body, around a bar in the chair-back, just at waist level and up and around her back arched shoulders and the upper part of the chair-back. Cutting off two shorter pieces of rope, I brought her legs back along the outside of the chair and bound each slim ankle to the back legs of the chair. As a result, she sat stiff and upright as a ramrod. As our blind and silent maid served the soup, I asked: 

"Nicki, darling, when you brought that straitjacket for me to put on you, you remarked that you had just had it made up and never tried it on." 

"Umm-hmm, that's right. It was only finished the day before we got married." "That brings up a point that's been worrying me. You and your mother seem to have an endless supply of boots, shoes, corsets, clothes, and so on. Where on earth do they all come from?" 

"Well, you see Dad and Mother have been going in for bondage, high heels, and so on, ever since they were married. Over the years they've built up quite an establishment-though, of course, since I've been old enough to have a share in it, it has grown even more." 

"How do you mean?" 

"Well, you've met Fifi; but Dad's payroll also includes an English dresser, a French corsetiere, a French dressmaker, an Italian boot-maker, and an old, German surgical instrument maker, who looks after things like spine-benders, ankle-cuffs, harem belts, etc. Oh, I nearly forgot our Belgian glove maker, who also does discipline helmets, this straitjacket, and the like." 

"Sounds like the United Nations." 

"Very much so-but they get along better. You see, nobody can make a shoe, or a boot like a good Italian shoemaker. Same with the other items. So the result is, no matter what Dad, Mother, or I-and now you-may think up, we can have it made in a week at the very outside; usually less." 

"The cost of all that must be staggering." 

"It is. But Dad manages to get by-and have a little left over, as he puts it. Then, as he says, it doesn't cost any more than running a yacht." 

So the conversation ran while Fifi served us and I fed my pretty wife. Toward the end of the meal she exclaimed: 

"Say, boss, I've got an idea. Why don't we go up to our place I mean Dad's place-this afternoon? Lots of interesting things there and plenty of room to try them out on me." 

"Sounds fine to me. Maybe you ought to show me how well you can get around there blindfolded." 

"Nothing easier. I'll be proud to demonstrate." 

"Okay. I'll start by blindfolding you now. But after my own method." 

I sent Fifi into the bedroom with orders to bring out a whole tray of cosmetic material, a bottle of spirit gum and some adhesive tape. I also told her to bring the Ping-Pong ball and coloured inks I had bought. 

"What on earth is the Ping-Pong ball for?" asked Nicki, eagerly. "You'll see-or rather you won't see, since you'll be blind," I; grinned.

 When the maid brought the supplies, I started off by taping Nicki's eyes shut with little strips of adhesive tape. 

"Oh, this feels wonderful!" Nicki sighed happily. "What happens now? It's so exciting wondering what you're going to do next and not being able to see." 

My next step was to take the Ping-Pong ball and a sharp knife and cut two elliptical pieces out of the ball, each about an inch wide. I coated the inside of each, and the closed eyelids of my wife with spirit gum, and when the adhesive was nearly dry, I pressed the pieces of celluloid into place over Nicki's closed eyes. Then, with the coloured inks and a fine brush, I painted a black "pupil" and a bright blue "iris" on each one; then I added exaggeratedly long "lashes" in black to her eye-sockets above and below the celluloid. The effect, of course, was to give her face a mask-like expression, with huge staring eyes. 

As I went along, I explained to my bride what I was doing. 

When I was through she asked, "How do I look?" 

"Like Surprise personified," I told her, quite pleased with my work. 

"I wish I could see myself," she pouted, then decided, "Well, maybe it's more fun this way. The mystery makes it exciting." 

I released her from the chair she was bound to, and we were starting out on the terrace for coffee when Nicki suggested, 

"I know! Let me call up Ching, at Dad's place, and tell him we'll be over this afternoon to look around, and that we'll stay for dinner." 

"Who's Ching?" "He's Dad's Chauffeur-Butler-Caretaker who looks after us while we're there, and keeps the place up while we're not. His brother Kai is gardener, and his daughter Anna acts as maid when we need her." 

"Chinese?" 

"Chinese American. Dad likes them because they keep their mouths shut about our business."

"Going up there sounds like a fine idea to me." I assented. "How about Fifi? Do we take her or leave her here, maybe tied up in a closet?" 

"Whatever pleases you, boss. But I suggest we take her. I think she'll come in useful later. Besides, we can keep her gagged and bound till we need her." 

That made sense to me, so I placed the phone call, then held the phone to Nicki's ear while she talked to Ching. Then we went out and waited while Fifi served the coffee. At that point, I removed her arm-corsets and undid the padlock that held the chain of the ball-gag in place. From that point on she could release herself. Nicki told her to put on a "Gamine" costume and wait for us in the car. She was to have a ball-gag, a leather helmet and plenty of cord with her. 

Coffee and kisses on the terrace was quite delightful. Deciding that her leather straitjacket must have eased quite a bit by now, I tightened it quite a bit. Her useless protests made the task even more pleasant. When we went out to the car, Nicki strolling as casually by my side as though she could see perfectly, Fifi was waiting.

The "Gamine" costume turned out to be a skin-tight black sweater, equally tight, very brief black shots, dark stockings and high heeled sandals. Both the sweater and shorts were tom ornamentally in a couple of places. It took only a second to tie her hands behind her. Then I forced the big ball into her mouth and settled down to the always enjoyable task of lacing the discipline helmet as tightly as possible. The following move was to tie Fifi's hands with her wrists crossed about her corseted waist, with the knot in the front and the ends trailing down. Taking these ends back under her body I brought them up and made her put her bound wrists over her head and as far down her back as she could. I took the ends of the rope in my hand through the rope around her wrists and began pulling. Slowly her back arched more and more steeply, slowly her wrists were pulled further and further down her back. I took longer than I really had to; but my wife couldn't see what I was doing, and I wanted each rope to be adjusted exactly right. I had had enough experience with rope now to know when to stop pulling.  

Then I knotted the rope. Opening the tailboard of the station wagon, I bundled my silent and helpless victim in on the floor. Tying her ankles together, I brought the rope from them up to the one around her wrists and pulled until her ankles and wrists were touching. She was now in a perfect "reverse hoop," a position I had seen described, but had never seen in use before. It is supposed to be even more trying than the Crepaudine. Then I closed the back of the wagon and helped my sightless wife into the front seat beside me and we were off.

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