Hood, gag moaned | Helplessly hooded bdsm stories

I don’t know how long I have been here. Time is uncertain when you are hooded. Hours seem like days, very long tiresome days. No light penetrates; there is no sense of passing time. I sleep when I am too exhausted to be afraid. I awaken at the slightest sound, instantly and painfully alert. The waiting sometimes is as unbearable as the anticipation. With each footstep outside the door I cringe, my muscles tighten; I bite down on the thick padded black leather gag that fills, my mouth. The taste of moist worn leather, sticky, imprinted with my teeth from my having bitten down on it for so long. The footsteps pass by and I am left again in my solitude. Left to think. As much a prisoner of my mind as of my bonds.

Newscasters tell you statistics about how many violent crimes occur each minute, how many babies are bora each second, how many homes are broken into each year… .They never tell you the important facts. How many ladies are bound each day? How many lovers use ropes to extend their embraces? How many women writhe in orgasm, their moans unheard outside closed doors, pulling desperately on the leather bands that secure their wrists? These and other such thoughts occupied my mind during the silent times, the times when no footsteps had been heard for awhile.

I waited silently for a very long time, my breasts heavy from the weights that had been added to my nipple clamps. Sweat dripping down the cleavage between them, a heavy mound of flesh on each side pulled painfully downward with the weight. I tried not to move. Moving only made my tired muscles ache more, made my nipples feel is if they would be pulled off. I sat up against the wall, hot, dripping, drooling under my hood, silent except for my breathing or an occasional gasp if I thought I heard a sound. Perhaps they will forget about me…Oh no! Perhaps they will forget about me! I am totally helpless. I need them! The thought disgusted me. I tried to move again. The weights pulled down. My breasts ached so much. How long had I been here? Surely not more than a day, perhaps parts of two days. I tried desperately not to think of my situation, to think of more pleasant thoughts.

If you had seen me on the streets, before I was brought here, you would have thought me pleasant to look at. Modestly dressed, clean and well groomed. A tall lady, well built, fairly muscular yet lean, full well-shaped breasts. Long straight hair, almost black in color. Pale blue eyes with a sparkle. That is what I have been told, for they are my Grandmother’s eyes. My mother always told me that, and I agree. It is a pleasant thought. I have also been told that I am beautiful. I have never believed this, but I do think that I get prettier with age. Most women do. Once the childlike look of the teen years has passed, women… most women, if they are lucky as I have been, acquire a beauty all their own. The tiny imperfections seem to add character. The body moves with more confidence and grace.

If you could see me now you would be shocked. Perhaps shocked is not exactly the right word…mesmerized, yes, or stunned. I can only imagine what I look like. My eyes can’t sparkle now. They are covered by the hood and feel sticky with the residue of my tears. And, my long hair doesn’t hang freely about my shoulders. It is wound up inside my hood, increasing the feeling of pressure on my encased head. But, I am thankful for this. I am so hot and sweaty. I wouldn’t want my long hair wrapped carelessly around my neck or sticking to my naked back.

The sound of the large bolt on the outside of the door when they had brought me in, and each time someone came to me, told me that escape was impossible. Escape. How could I even think of such a thing? I was naked except for my bonds and my high heels. Naked except for the locking leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles. My ankles were locked together. A cold, short and very heavy piece of chain went from the lock at my ankles to a ring at the center front of the collar attached to my hood, forcing my knees to be drawn upward against my chest. My wrists were cuffed and padlocked together behind my back, a leather strap holding my elbows completely together. I felt every bit like a prisoner, large padlocks at each point: my wrists locked to each other, my ankles locked to each other and then chained and locked to the front of my hood. My hood locked onto my head. The hood was so perfectly fitted that I could no longer feel it as a thing apart from myself.

At first, when they put the hood on, I was struggling frantically. It scared me like nothing ever had before…so black, so thick, so…final. The padlock hung open at the back of it, the lacings wide apart. It took two men to hold me while the third put it over my head. I screamed! “No! Please! Anything!” I tried to move my head away but it wasn’t possible. The men laughed as it went over my head, the laughter of men who know they can do whatever they like without pause. It wasn’t difficult for the third man, the rough unshaved man who stunk of cigarettes, to pull the hood over my shifting head. The other two held me tightly, so tightly that tears filled my eyes. I couldn’t move my upper body. I tried kicking at them, but my balance was unsteady atop my high heels. My still dressed body tried with all of its might to escape. I was so scared. So scared. The men laughed. One, the -man on my right side, grabbed roughly at my bulging breasts. I thought I heard the fabric of my dress tear. I screamed. They laughed again. I managed a kick to the man on the right. He grabbed at my breasts again. I heard them all laughing. I fought furiously and kept kicking wildly.

“Watch she doesn’t hurt nothin!” the man on the left chided.

“I’ll watch all right!” was die response. Another tear at my dress. I felt the cold air on my chest, bare now except for the clinging strips of cloth. The third man had the hood over my head and vita* beginning the lacing. I screamed again and then turned to begging. “Please, please. Anything you want. Please don’t.”

The third man continued lacing, quickly and efficiently. He had done this before. He didn’t pay me any notice. I felt the hood begin to mold tightly around my skin. Its initial coldness fading. The soft pressure on my cheekbones and chin. The smooth leather lining was fitting perfectly over each part of my face. The lacings were pulling it snuggly around my head. My sense of hearing was fading. The smell of new leather was overpowering, so heavy and warm. “Please.” I begged again, softly, almost a desperate whimper. I hoped that this would appeal to them…the acknowledgement of helplessness…that it would bring some sense of gallantry out in at least one of them. Perhaps just one of them had a heart, or had a memory of a loved one in need that he would relate to. No.

The hood was warm now. How quickly leather warms to the skin. I heard the heavy padlock click to announce its closure at the back. I was locked inside. Too scared to speak. Unable to see, only my mouth left open. Not for long. Before I could decide what to say to these men, a thick padded leather gag was forced into my mouth. The man on the right had pinched my bare nipple. I unwittingly opened my mouth and the third man stuffed the gag deep inside. All three laughed. I moaned. My nipple hurt. I didn’t know what would happen to me. I couldn’t even think. I only reacted to each touch, each grope, and each movement. I tried to hear what they said to each other. The hood muffled my hearing, especially whenever one of them touched my head.

The third man was holding my head in his hands as he stood behind me, one hand over each of my ears. I was almost deaf. Even the slightest touching of the outside of my hood made all sounds more difficult to discern. All I could hear would be an echo of the touch, the sound of static, like a loud rubbing sound, magnified somehow by the completeness of the hood and its pressure on my head. When no one touched the hood I could hear fairly well. Not perfectly, but when paying close attention perhaps not badly. I tried to shake my head free from his hands. He put one arm around my neck. With his other hand he cupped my gagged mouth.

“Be still”

I felt each man lock a leather band around the wrist in his control. They helped the third man padlock my wrists together behind my back. I struggled as much as possible, but very little was felt by them. I was so weak in comparison. He added a leather strap around my elbows, pulling them together and holding them there.. Then my ankles…cuffed and locked like my wrists, locked together so that I could nql walk without assistance. I had to depend on my captors to keep me upright.. Any movement and I would lose my balance, fall into the arms of one of them. What a horrible thought! To have to depend on these men for my safety. I hated them. I would rather fall if it would put an end to my captivity, but I knew it would not. They had put too much effort into my capture to be easily satiated. I knew that much as I stood before them hooded and disheveled.

For the first time, I felt myself bite down into the thick padded gag. It was soft and yet it filled my mouth totally. Biting down on it somehow made me feel better. I thought about how men in the old west bit down on bullets. Yes, I thought, it makes tilings better somehow. I wasn’t left with my thoughts of such things for long. The man on the right, who might not even be the same man now, he felt smaller, more like the man on the left had felt, began cutting my clothes from my body. I struggled, but the third man, the strong one who stunk of cigarettes, held my body firmly against his, his arm still around my neck, my head tilted back towards him. My hands could feel the erection in his pants. I thought of grabbing at his balls, wrenching them. But no. What good would it do. I couldn’t speak my demands with this gag. If he got free of my grasp I would be severely punished. I could guess as much.

I was cold. My dress was gone, no doubt shredded beyond repair. If I did escape I would need clothes. Only my panties and high heels remained of my clothes. The men were amused by my panties. One of them gently stroked the front of them. I felt the touch of his hand, its roughness, through the soft white cotton. Another pulled them up high on my waist, stretching the fabric. The elastic sides cut into my soft flesh. I could only imagine that this accentuated the shape of my body. Again, I felt a hand smoothing over the top of the crotch panel. He was enjoying himself, taking his time. What was he thinking as he stroked this strange woman, a woman whom he had no right to touch in any way let alone to be gently stroking the most sensitive and private part of her body?

I moaned and clenched my legs together. Perhaps it will be over soon. They, will take what they want and tire of me. I will be left to gather the shreds of my dress and find my way home. I was dreaming again… anything to not be focusing on their touching. Another man pinched my left nipple. It was already embarrassingly hard. My breasts were too obvious! They seemed to demand attention by their very presence. They stuck out, firm and full. Nipples always ready. A cool breeze on a summer day would often be enough to make them hard, to draw even more attention to their ample size.

All three seemed to enjoy the show. They laughed, fondled me, pinched at me, and stroked my panties. I twisteid and turned as much as possible, which wasn’t really much at all. The arm around my neck held tighter.

“Enough! Cut them off too!” the third man commanded.

“Naw. I like em. Reminds me of that girl, you know the one.”

“Yehjknow. Now cut’em off!”

I didn’t have time to react. The fabric yielded so easily and there I stood, naked except for my shoes. Why had I ever gone to that club? Why had I been so reckless, so eager for excitement?

The man on the left was stroking me again only now the panties weren’t in his way. I felt his cold callused fingers trying to probe between my clenched thighs. I could hear my heart beating. It was so loud. My chest expanded, heaved. My legs seem to go weak. If only I would faint. Then, it could be all over. Perhaps they would get scared and let me go? But I didn’t faint. I had always been, too strong of a person for such acts. Now, it was my loss. I moaned and wiggled mv hips as thev continued to pinch and prod.

“Let’s take her downstairs. He wants ner to wait downstairs.”

“What?! Who? What did I hear?” I thought I heard one of them say “He”\ The third man spun me around and threw me over his shoulder. I moaned. His shoulder cut into my stomach. I bounced uncomfortably with each step he took. He was holding me over his right shoulder, his right arm wrapped around my bare thighs. With his left hand, he continued to reach inside my thighs. I squirmed only a little. I was so afraid of falling. I couldn’t fight him. He kept poking and I felt the cold air between my legs. I couldn’t see, but I heard a door open and then the bouncing feeling of my carrier going downstairs. I will be sick.

He stopped outside a second door. I heard the jingle of keys, big heavy keys and the sliding of a bolt followed by the creaking of a heavy door. I listened for any other clues to where I had been taken. I thought that I heard the sound of running water in the background. A musty smell.

The third man placed me gently onto my feet inside the room, then lowered me onto my bare bottom. The floor was thickly carpeted. I immediately began wiggling away from him. He didn’t stop me. Then I felt my back hit a wall. Laughter again. I sat there, not moving, while one of the men connected a short but very heavy piece of chain between my ankle lock and my collar, pulling my knees up to my chest. I heard some sounds, nothing I could discern, and then laughter again. One of the other two men approached and knelt down next to me. I tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go. He pinched at my. right nipple, hard and uncaring. I moaned and bit into my gag. He held tight for a moment and then replaced his fingers with some type of metal clamp. It was cold and yet I felt intense warmth throughout my breast. I moaned again and turned my head away. Tears tried to run down my hooded face but were quickly absorbed by the soft leather. Then, the next nipple. First the hard pinch of fingers, then the harder pinching of the clamp. Heat again.

I tried to lose myself in thoughts but couldn’t think of any that were more powerful. As if he sensed that I was trying to escape, if only mentally, he began adding magnetic weights to each nipple clamp. I could feel each one pull from the magnetic force and then click as it bonded. He toyed with a few of them, allowing the magnetism of the weight in his hand pull at the weights on my nipple before permitting them to join. My nipples were now pulled downward. It hurt to try to lift them, or move them in any way. The weight and the pinching were all I thought of.

Then the third man, the foul one, bent down close to me. His hands were stroking the outside of my hood as if molding it onto my head. I heard the loud static sound again and lost my ability to hear. I knew that I would no longer be able to stand. I would not be able to escape. I felt his breath on my bare shoulders, hot and moist. His hand reached around and felt the weight of my right breast, then my left breast. He stroked each gently. Then he reached between my legs, moist. I could not help it. I hadn’t even noticed until he had touched me. Dripping wet. As if to further embarrass me, he announced this fact to his two cohorts. All laughed, then they left. I heard the bolt on the heavy door, heard the lock click closed, heard their footsteps fade.

I was trembling. My muscles were tired from struggling. My breasts already ached terribly from the clamps and weights. I leaned my head back against the wall and concentrated on breathing without expanding my chest. I tried not to move. I tried not to think about my hood or the fact that I was naked in a strange room with three men nearby and possibly a fourth on his way. I thought of other people, of lovers who play such games in the safety of their homes with “safe words” and “escape mechanisms”. I listened. Nothing except the faint sound of running water far away.

My hood was warm and soft. I say my hood because it takes so little time for a tight leather hood to feel like it is part of you. It molds over your head as if melting onto your skin, warms to your body temperature, lovingly caresses you. After a mere few hours you scream for it not to be removed. It has become a living and protective part of you, a shield from the outside world. I know this now. I have been hflbded for many hours, perhaps more than a day…or longer. I love my hood, the way it covers and conceals my motionless tears.

As I have said, hours went by like this. I have no idea how long. I was so lost in my thoughts, my pain and exhaustion. I sat, waiting. Left only with my thoughts, going over the events that have occurred. Then, without warning, the sliding of the heavy bolt! I stiffened. The weights pulled at my nipples. I bit into my gag.

I felt hard big hands turning a key in the lock that connected my ankle cuffs to my neck. In an instant, I felt my ankles go free. I would be able to stand again, to stretch out my long muscular legs! He pulled me to my feet, using the chain connected to my collar as a leash. Only when I was standing, leaning with my back against the wall, did he unlock the chain from my collar. He took the short length of chain and used it as a hobble between my ankle cuffs, locking each ankle to an end of it. Then I felt him stand up in front of me, I was so embarrassed to be standing naked, bound and hooded in front of this unknown man. Yet, I was grateful for the chance to allow my legs to regain their strength. I felt so weak and helpless… so out of control.

He turned me around several times, very slowly, holding onto me by my shoulders. I lost track of where the wall was. I felt dizzy and weak. All I could sense were his eyes upon me and the feel of his hands on my shoulders. Finally, he stopped turning me. He came up behind me. I could feel the warmth of his body approaching. He put a hand over my gagged mouth and pulled my head back onto his shoulder. I leaned my body back towards his. I could feel the fabric of his clothes against my bound arms. The weights dangled against my breasts and ribcage, cold and uncaring. He held his hand over my gagged mouth for several minutes, gently pressing the gag even deeper into me. I heard the pounding of my heart and then of his.

Suddenly, he let go of my mouth, grabbed my shoulders again and started walking me forward.

Then,, without warning, he pushed at the back of my head. I bent over forward, my shoulders and head pressed against the wall, my heavy breasts nibbing up against it. As I leaned my upper body against the wall, I felt its cool familiarity. It felt good to my naked body. I didn’t think that I would be able to stand without leaning against this wall. My legs were so tired. My breasts hurt from the weight. The pain seemed to worsen with movement. But he would not let me rest here. He pulled my hips away from the wall, forcing me to bend even more at the waist. I moaned deeply. The weights now dangled from my aching breasts and I felt the drool forming around my mouth. New tears formed in my covered eyes.

I didn’t hear him unzip or unbutton his pants, just the sudden feeling of his erect flesh pressing up against my bottom, forcing its way into me. He pulled my hips farther from the wall, making me support myself on my upper chest. My hard nipples were now pulled straight downward by the heavy weights. My head, sightless, turned to the side with one ear hard pressed. I moaned loudly as he grabbed my hips harder and made his final thrust into me. Then, without a word, he stepped away. I felt a hand grope at my sweaty bottom, giving it a few playful, but hard, swats. I swallowed and breathed again. My cheeks were wet inside my hood. Drool was forming around the sides of my mouth. I had bitten so hard into my gag that the saliva had been forced out of my semi-open mouth.

He grabbed one of my upper arms and began leading me out of the room. I thought I would fall. I could feel myself, or rather him, dripping down the inside of my thighs as we walked down a long corridor. I could still feel him inside of me. I tried not to think, but the throbbing between my legs! How dare he! We walked. He allowed me to proceed slowly. I was dripping more steadily now. The throbbing continued. I tried not to think. We passed others in the hall. I could smell the foul man again. More laughter. I lowered my hooded head. Surely they saw the dripping. I must have even had red hand marks on my bottom. I could still feel the warmth where he had hit me. My face turned red inside my hood. I felt the blood rushing to it.

We entered a room. He pushed me down onto the floor and closed the door behind, us. I heard the lock turn and the sound of a key being removed. I dropped my head to the floor. Music played in the background, heavy with a drum beat, tribal and alive.

“Come here,” he said. His voice was deep and purposeful. His manner of speaking slow and confident. I could not… I would not.

I didn’t here him approach, just the sharp stinging of the crop that came down on my bare bottom. I screamed through my gag and struggled to upright myself. I was backing away from his direction when the second hit came. Then the third. I was frenzied. I don’t know what happened, I only reacted, moving from side to side trying to anticipate where he would strike next, screaming all the while through my gag. Finally, reacting without thought, I started to move towards him, towards where I sensed he was. As I did, the blows stopped. I continued towards him, my body hot from where he had hit me. I could feel welts already forming on my bottom and thighs. I was gasping for breath. Stop, please stop. I kept moving closer to him until I felt the side of one of his legs against me. I will rest here.

In my turmoil, I hadn’t noticed jlie weights on my breasts. Now, again sitting still, I felt them. So painfully heavy. NJy nipples were numb but the weight still caused a hot aching in each breast. I was covered in sweat.

He walked away from me. I bit down on my gag, preparing for the next cropping. Nothing. My body trembled.

“You will sleep here tonight,” he said softly. I wouldn’t have even heard him if I hadn’t been paying perfect attention, straining for a sound that would foretell what would happen to me next. That was all I heard. I didn’t know if it was dark in the room or where he had gone. I waited a few minutes and then lied down onto the soft carpet of the floor where I quickly fell asleep.

I don’t remember most of the night. I only know that I awakened at one point to find that the nipple clamps and elbow strap had been removed. The room was silent and warm. I surprised myself by going right back to sleep and by sleeping the entire rest of the night. The next morning I was awakened by the touch of a man. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. I wasn’t sure which man it was, but something told me that it was one of the first two who had held me for the third. I knew it was not the man who had cropped and violated me. Of that, I was certain. It is odd how you remember things like the feel of skin or the smell of a man without caring to at the moment. I will always remember the touch of these men. The two, the third, and the man who controlled them… and me.

I was uncuffed and led into a large bathroom that must have been adjoining the bedroom where I had spent the night. I didn’t even try to struggle. There was no point, I was naked and the hood was still locked on. I was also desperate for a drink and some food. They took the gag out, but left the hood on. I was too afraid to speak. I kept thinking of something to say, some way to convince this man to let me go. It all sounded so useless.

I knew he wouldn’t let me go and I didn’t want to incite him into doing something cruel to me as a punishment for my words.

I had never bathed blinded before, so I found this difficult. It was made even more difficult and uncomfortable by the presence of the man. He didn’t leave me the entire time. I was not used to this. I kept hoping that he would give me even a few minutes of privacy. He did not. Finally, timidly, I asked that he leave me for two minutes so that I might…he agreed. I got two minutes, no more.

When I was done, he handed me a slinky spandex bodysuit to put on. It covered every part of my body, froin my toes to my neck. It even had built in gloves. He tucked the neckpiece up under the bottom of my hood. I was encased in this slinky sexy fabric^ Pwas so happy to have some way of covering my body that I didn’t protest: It was” so tightthat it felt like a thick layer of skin, cool and soft. I put my shoes back on without having been told to. I have never felt comfortable walking around without high heels.

“Turn around,” he said coldly. Without thinking, I pounded him with my fists and made a run toward where I thought the doorway was. I screamed as I hit into the doorframe and bounced backward. He grabbed me instantly; holding me by my arms which he had clasped behind my back.

“Jack, get in here”, he yelled. I screamed, “Noooo!” as I heard the sound of footsteps running toward us, pounding on the carpet. I struggled frantically, but his grip held. I got one good kick in before the second man arrived! It was a small triumph, but something. The second man grabbed my kicking legs and strapped them tightly together. I could feel my anklebones pressed together. “Oww!” I screamed. “Let me go!” I struggled as hard as I could. Without a word, he strapped my wrists together behind my back and spun me around. “Can’t handle her alone, huh!” he chided the first man as he strapped my elbows back together. “This lady needs some cooling off time! I’ve got just the plan.”

I struggled and yelled as he pushed me into the first man. I couldn’t stand on my own. I was getting dizzy from the spinning and struggling, and the ankle strap was so tight that I couldn’t get my feet to agree on how to balance. The spandex bodysuit now felt hot and sticky. Still, it was better than having their hands on my skin. “Let me go!” I screamed again.

“Turn her around,” he said to the man who was holding me. I was spun again, arched backward with an arm around my neck. The second man approached me. One on each side. Nowhere to go. I stopped yelling so that I could listen. I felt something pushing against my lips. I yelled out. “Pllea” was all I got to say before a new gag was inserted. This one felt.like firm rubber, phallic shaped. It went deeply into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. I squirmed as he ran the gag straps around my head, fastening each tightly. It was some kind of a harness gag being put on top of the smooth leather hood. I tried to bite down, but the mouthpiece was firm.

“Let’s go,” he said. Without another word, I was thrown over the second man’s shoulder and carried out of the bathroom. I felt myself carried down a long corridor, followed by a couple of steps upward and then through a doorway. I hit the edge of the doorway with my kicking heels as we entered. It felt cool where he put me down, I could feel a slight breeze, perhaps it was some sort of a patio or garden room. I am not sure to this day. I could feel the air, cool going up my nostrils…the only part of me exposed. And, I could smell the faint scent of roses.

“This will cool you off,” I heard the second man say as he lowered me onto the hard flooring. It felt rough through “the spandex bodysuit, like concrete or brick…but there were no seams. I sat still as they strapped me into a sitting position, my knees drawn tightly up to my chest, straps holding every part of me together. A chest strap went over the top of my breasts and around my upper arms. Another strap bound my knees together. A third strap bound my thighs together. A fourth strap bound my ankles to my thighs and then wrapped around my lower back. Yet another strap went over my shoulders and under my knees. Finally, a strap connected my ankles to my wrists, running tightly under my bottom. I could not move.

One of the men picked me up. I had stopped paying attention to them, so I can’t tell you which. I felt myself being lifted like a tightly bound package. No part of my body moved independent of the rest. By breasts were pressed hard into my thighs, my chin resting on my knees. I was carried only a couple of feet, it couldn’t have been more, and placed on top of a slippery block. Within seconds I felt the cold penetrate the bodysuit covering my bottom. It was a block of ice! I squirmed, and even fell to the side for a moment before one of the men lifted me upright. I felt a clasp attach to the top of my head and a sense of pulling. One of the men was using a rope attached to the top of my hood or harness gag to pull me upright. I felt my body become more rigid as the rope kept pulling upward. Hands adjusted my bottom on the ice block, my heels hanging off the front. Already, my bottom was freezing cold. The wet cold had penetrated the bodysuit and was attacking me.

One man started laughing, and then the other followed. I tried to squirm, but it ended up like a wiggle. They laughed louder. Another pull on the rope. I moaned loudly. My head was held perfectly erect.

It was only after the men left that the full horror of the situation occurred to me. This ice block will melt! The warmth of my bottom will melt it! I will be left hanging by my head, encased in spandex and leather, until someone comes for me! I didn’t even try to squirm. That would only make it melt faster. My bottom stung from the cold. It felt raw, wet and exposed while the rest of me felt hot and snug. I moaned again. I could feel the ice melting under me. It wouldn’t be long. Everything would continue to tighten until I was supported only by my head and the body harness that they had made out of straps. I could do nothing.

Later-that day, I was allowed to “warm up” while being entirely wrapped in adhesive bandages and then strapped to a pole. The two men never removed my hood. They never left me alone again either. Both men attended to me. Both participated in stripping the black spandex off of me as I stood before them naked and shivering.^They took turns_with wrapping my body in bandages, spinning me around as they did so. One would hold me upright, my wrists and elbows still secured behind my back, while the other would wrap around and around. They took their time, making sure.that each wrapping overlapped the last and that each was tightly in place.

Several times one commented that a turn of the wrap was not tight enough. It would be redone. My moans didn’t concern them. They carried on an idle conversation that I stopped straining to hear after only a few minutes. I only paid attention at times when one or the other would pinch my nipples or try to reach a finger between my thighs. I didn’t try to stop them. I tried to bite down on the mouthpiece and remain quiet. I didn’t like the way they seemed to take satisfaction from my moans and my embarrassment. I would do my best not to react, not to encourage them. They would be done with the wrapping soon and my body would be covered.

Each then participated in strapping me firmly to the thick pole that was mounted in the floor behind me. We were in a different room now, not far from the outside area where I had been left to hang for what seemed like hours after the ice block had melted beneath me. The top of my hood was clasped to a point on the pole only inches above my head. I couldn’t move right or left, forward or backward. I just stood perfectly upright-atop my stiletto heels. I was happy to be covered and left alone. I was warm. Their fondling of my body had stopped. They had gone and I was left with only my thoughts. I stayed that way, somewhat happily, for quite some time. I think that I might have even fallen asleep at some point. At the very least, I was calm…for the second time since my arrival at this place.

I remember the sound of a door opening nearby. I became fully aware again and for the first time noticed that I had been drooling inside of my hood. The whole area around my mouth was wet. I couldn’t close my mouth with this gag. The prior one had let me bite down and get my lips somewhat closed. This one was firm and kept my mouth open. I was glad to be hooded so that no one would notice.

Sometime later in the day, they came to get me again. I was tired and very hungry. I didn’t mind the embarrassment when they removed the harness gag and allowed me to eat and drink. I was grateful, and ate without a word. My arms ached and I was so tired. They seemed…kind somehow. I sat naked at a table, still hooded, my ankles chained to a bolt in the floor. My wrists were cuffed together, but I could manage. I was so grateful. I didn’t even protest when they regagged me.

It must have been late in the day when we finished. I was allowed a few minutes to clean myself in the bathroom, but I was not left alone. One of the men fastened a leather garter belt around my waist and put stockings on my legs. I could sense that the other man was nearby, but he didn’t help. The two men were very quiet now. The man who had put the garter belt on put stockings on my legs, and replaced my shoes. Then, he put long leather gloves on my hands, gloves without fingers. My arms were bound behind my back, squared off and strapped tightly. I was walked into the main bedroom. I remember knowing instantly what room I was in. The thick carpet and the soft sound of the rhythmic music playing in the background. I wanted to sleep, even if it meant another night on the floor at the foot of the bed.

They walked me forward, off to a right angle from the doorway. Then one of the men turned me around and backed me up against a short thick pole that must have been bolted into the floor. It felt so solid, like a lopped off tree trunk with very deep roots. It was the perfect height, running just the length of my legs, ending just short of my full bottom. I was strapped tightly against this pole, my arms and my head pulled from behind by straps, so that I was held perfectly upright. My chin was held high, my breasts naked and sticking very obviously out. They left, closing the door behind them. Again I stood waiting, listening.

This time, I did not wait long. Within minutes, I heard the door open again. There was no sound of footsteps, just the opening of the door. I tensed when I felt his body near me. I knew who it was instantly. He ran a hand over the flesh of my left breast, pinching at my sore nipple. I moaned softly. I felt his touch on my bottom, soft and big hands feeling, my skin. His every touch spoke of a right to do as he pleased with me. He was not timid. He acted as if he had a right of ownership, as if I belonged to him. I felt him move behind me. His hands touched my shoulders and then moved up onto my hood. He stroked the outside of it, running his hands along the front, over my eye covers, down my cheeks, over my mouth covering. He paused only a minute as his hand moved across my mouth, as if he were further gagging me. Perhaps he was thinking about the last time that he had put his hand over my mouth. I felt my stomach go weak. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest. He started to speak and I strained to hear every word.

“You despise me because I make you feel. I bring your body alive against your will. I show you what you are and what you can be.” .

I bit down into the gag, but it offered no comfort. It wasn’t padded and sticky with saliva as the first gag had been. It was a firm and unyielding rubber plug, a phallic-shaped intrusion into my mouth. I tried to shake my head, but only my breasts moved. He^walked jiway from me. I listened to hear where he was going. I couldn’t hear. He moved silently. The next thing I heard was the sound of my own yelling as a crop struck my exposed bottom. I squealed through my gag! I moaned loudly, then squealed again as the second blow came. Then the third and fourth. I could feel the welts rising on my flesh. I tried to shake my head or even lower it, but the combination of the hoods thick collar and the head strap dbwn my back kept me upright. I felt the drool coming again and the tears in my eyes. I shook my breasts only for a moment and then thought better of it. Finally, I just moaned and whimpered. My bottom was hot and stinging. I could feel my chest still heaving from the excitement, forcing my breasts to stick out farther between the straps. All I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my chest. I tried to control my breathing when I heard his voice again.

“November 7, 1994: He talks about fairy princesses, unicorns and dragons, saying that he would be less surprised to find that they existed then that someone like me existed. He calls me a fantasy creature. I feel like I have been sleeping for years, and tell him so. I was asleep for so very long, my body cold and my reality hardened so that not even my fantasies could soften and warm me.”

He was reading, reading from my own diary! I bit down hard into the gag and tried to stomp my strapped feet. How dare he! I moaned loudly, not wanting to hear, hoping he would stop, but he continued to read. Slowly and with feeling, making sure that his voice would be heard by me.

“He makes love to me like a man who has, at once, the knowledge of a thousand conquests and the adoration of a virgin. He makes me feel beautiful, his eyes always smiling down on me. A little smile, his lips pressed together and the edges of his mouth turned ever so slightly upward.

The last time that he looked down at me, I was tied on his bed, lying on my back with my legs pulled up and over my head - a tripod. I was tied like that, unable to right myself. He inserted a long white candle between my legs and lit it. As my muscles strained from the tension of the position, my legs began to shake. I looked at the candle, watching the wax melting, forming a hot pool around the burning wick, trying to control the shaking that was continuing to progress us my leg muscles cramped. When the first drop of hot wax hit me, I bucked in reaction, causing several more drops of hot melted wax to spray around my inner thighs. I moaned loudly under my gag. “Make it stop,” I was begging. He kept looking down into my eyes - curious wonder. He had done this to me and. he wasn’t making a move to stop it, not a suggestion of coining to my rescue. He cocked his head to one side and continued to watch as 1 moaned. The pool of hot wax was building again. My legs were trembling and I couldn’t control it, any of it.

I watched him, and then I looked at my legs shaking and the pool of wax building. “Please!” I begged with my whimpers and moans. He just sat at my side watching me - he would make sure I was unharmed, but he wouldn’t interfere. My leg muscles shook violently from the strain and from the excitement. It was an unending circle of events: They would shake, the wax would fall, they would shake in reaction to the feel of the wax, and more wax would build up and fall….

I didn’t think that I could bear it. It was like being whipped - you think it will never end because you have no control and it hurts and yet he continues. He knows it hurts and yet he puts you there and watches you react. Curious wonder. This was last night. Today he is, again, gone from my side -but only for awhile.”

He paused and I sighed. So many memories. I tried to move my arms, to turn my head away, to move in some way to show my displeasure at this new form of violation. Nothing moved. I stood, listening, waiting. I could sense him moving around me, looking at me.

“You love this man even though he tortures you.” He said softly. I could feel a chill on my body. A mist of sweat covered my chest and was forming small droplets that ran down between my breasts. The moisture made me shiver slightly. My bottom still stung from the crop. I had a sudden urge to explain, but I stayed silent. He continued reading.

“Wednesday: There doesn’t seem to be enough time to write down all that we do. One day captures more fantasies than most people have for a lifetime. Yesterday, a friend of his came over. I bent over his lap white’ the thr6e of us watched a spanking video. He spanked me while we watched. My bottom warmed slowly.

The lady in the video was having her bottom caned and appeared to love it. Soon thereafter, I was having my bottom spanked while on my knees in. front of him. He was in my mouth. The other man began hitting my bottom with a hairbrush, harder and faster, while my Master continued to penetrate my mouth. I was so excited. After the man left, my Master tied me to his bed, spread wide apart.

I’m not sure how many times he left me tied, how many times he awakened me, or how long I was there. It seemed like over three hours, possibly four. Each time I would awaken to the feel of him licking between my legs, and would fall back asleep soon after he began gently stroking me. He knows how to excite me and how to calm me - how to control me.

One time, I awakened close to the point of orgasm. My Master had two fingers inside me and was licking me aggressively.”

He paused again, just long enough to bite hard into my upper shoulder. I felt his erection rub the side of my leg as he walked around to the front of me.

“Thursday: I lay beside him and looked into his eyes. We were both tired. He loved me. I could tell by the way that he looked at me if by no other means. Looking into his eyes I saw such intense love that I felt myself melting inside. I have never seen so much love in anyone’s eyes at any point in my life. He didn’t have to say a word. We looked at each other silently and I felt the tears coming to my eyes. I had never cried out of happiness before, only out of sadness. Today, I was very happy. I don’t know why he loves me so much. When I look at myself in the mirror it doesn’t seem possible that he could love me so much. I see all of the imperfections. But, when I look in his eyes I see myself the way he sees me and there is only beauty and goodness and love.”

“He does such harsh things to you, and yet you believe that he loves you.” These were his words, not mine. I felt uncomfortably warm inside, as if all the blood was going to my head and chest. I wanted to be free, to. stop him from reading my words and…I wanted a chance to explain. Not like a slave to a master. I wanted to explain like a woman speaks to a man. Like two lovers speak on dark starlit nights, holding each other tightly. I sighed. My chest rose and then sank. How long would this continue? He read on, entry after entry, filling the room with my words and his voice.

“November 27, 1994: My Master raped me violently, quickly and aggressively. He had my ankles tied to my thighs under me, my elbows tied together, my wrists tied together, my back arching. I was gagged and blindfolded, straining under the vibrator until I had a powerful orgasm. Then he ungagged me, forced himself in my mouth until he was fully erect, regagged me and then mounted me. My legs were still bound, but no longer under me. They were at his sides as he pounded into me. I tried to tell him to stop and tried to escape, even though I loved every moment of it.

January 17, 1995: My Master left me a “message on my answering machine today: “Only the most beautiful of fairy princesses are loved enough for their man to want to enslave them and want to keep them forever chained and kept with them -1 love you My Lady.”

I felt so dizzy by the time that he stopped reading. All of my senses had been focused on the sound of his voice and the feel of his touch as he circled me, reading softly, brushing my erect nipples with his arm. I felt his wet tongue on my nipples and an immediate tingling between my legs. I was wet. His hand stroked my warm bottom as he continued to fill his mouth with my breast. I held my breath and moaned deeply. All thoughts had left my mind. He brought his body directly in front of mine and pressed into me. I could feel his erection through his pants.

He slid down the length of my body^ licking as he went, until his tongue was between my legs. I moaned loudly. Every muscle in’my body tightened. I wanted to scream. I think that I did scream; only it must have sounded garbled and quite muffled. He continued licking. My heart pounded violently, my legs began to tremble and finally I exploded. The tension had been so extreme that I was sure I would faint from the release. I was so dizzy and warm. So thoroughly exhausted. So.. .happy.

He stood up in front of me, again pressing his erection against me, as if to say “we are not finished yet.” Then, he reached around behind me and I felt the strap mat held my head back fall free. I lowered my head and found his shoulder waiting. He held me againsPMn*

“They are very sexy words, wouldn’t you agree.” 1 didn’t move. It felt so good to rest my head on him. He pressed me harder into him, his hands now on my bottom: One on each cheek, his fingers gently grabbing the flesh. He let go, and I felt the release of the strap that bound my upper thighs to the pole. He reached down ahcPrefe&seii tn^temaming three straps and then lifted me over his shoulder; r moaned as I went over. His arm caught a grip of my legs and he lifted upward. ””*::! 3 ‘ ; ’”

He walked only a few feet and placed me down on the bed. It felt so cool and soft. I would have fallen instantly asleep if I hadn’t been so excited. My body still ached, but now it also tingled all oyer. My legs still trembled slightly.

Without the leg straps, I was free to try to run ldrto! kick, but I didn’t think of doing either. He spread my legs and mounted me. I heard his breathing and felt his weight on me a’s he pounded rhythmically. When he was done, he strapped my ankles together. I felt liini lay’down beside me and cover me with a cool sheet and blanket. He rolled me onto my side. It felt good to’be off of my arms. That is all I remember. I slept soundly that second night in his room.

The next day began in an even more strenuous way than the last. I was dressed in a locking leather waist cinch that had’garter’straps. I felt the texture of the fishnet stockings that were put’on iny legs, lie dressed me this day. I didn’t see the other two men at all the entire day. I was allowed to remove the gag for my morning cleaning, but it was quickly replaced thereafter. I had to open my mouth very wide to accommodate the ball that he stuffed in. Then, I felt him strapping the harness part of the gag around the outside of my hood. Everything was so very precise. I could feel my lips protrude only a tiny bit at the mouth opening of the hood around the ball gag. He encased my arms in a leather arm sheath behind my back, with my forearms wrapped around the sides of my torso. I would have liked to have seen what it looked like. All I felt were the lacings, the soft suede leather, and the tight straps that encircled my upper body. He clamped a heavy metal clamp to each of my nipples and hung a heavy object from each clamp. I moaned the entire time. My nipples still ached terribly from the first day.

A series of straps held my legs together at the upper thighs, lower thighs and just below my knees. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable, just confining. I was lying on the floor when I felt him fasten some padded cuffs around my already strapped ankles. The next thing that I knew, I was being pulled upward by my ankles! My breasts dragged along the floor as I was pulled upward, the heavy weights following. I moaned and shook in protest. I couldn’t see and was so scared. When I was fully upside down, swinging slowly above the floor, he tightened a strap that ran from my upper arms to my crotch. It was a type of crotch rope, that kept my body arched slightly backward, allowing my nipple clamps to swing freely. I could feel the intense weight of them pulling down.

I moaned again. I couldn’t struggle. Any movement made the weights on my breasts swing and pull more painfully1 at my nipples. With my arms behind my back and my back arched, I couldn’t even put my head straight down or try to bend forward to relieve the pulling.

He came up next to me. I could feel his hands stroking my thighs, feeling the fishnet stockings. He grabbed at my bottom and gave me a little pull towards him. I moaned again.’ I was drooling now. I could feel it around my stretched lips and heading downward. With my head pulled back slightly, it would drip from my upper lip onto the floor under my head. My body was swaying slowly. “Please let me down!” I begged silently.

He pulled my body against his, my legs up against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. His hands he let stroke the back of my legs. I could feel him grab at my straining thigh muscles. Then, he slid his body down mine. “I must go out for awhile. This will keep you out of trouble. And, should you get lonely, you have only but to moan loudly. My helpers will come to your assistance. Consider that before you decide to make a lot of useless noise.” I listened quietly as life continued to speak. ‘“When I return, we shall have some time alone. Perhaps I shall read to you again.” That was all he said before he left. I hung perfectly still and silent, awaiting his return.