Slave meditation | Gerda story | free bondage stories
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"You're in meditation now," said the instructor loudly, so that she could hear beneath the hood. "I understand from reports that you are a very reluctant slave. I like that, because it will give me many opportunities ti deal with you severely. So relax now, think about your sins and demerits, and prepare yourself for what is to come."
Then there was silence, deep black silence while Gerda tried to come to terms with herself in vicious bondage.
What am I doing here ? (thought Gerda ). I am one of the top models in Paris - encased in hot rubber and leather and unable to move a muscle, breathing through two tiny tubes, unable to communicate in any way with the outside world because I am cruelly gagged and unable to see. I have been strapped down so tightly I feel like a corpse. My arms and hands are already rubbered in elbow gloves and are now helplessly encased inside the thick leather sleeves of this wretched meditation bag. I am secured to the table with about a dozen leather straps from head to toe.
My reason tells me there will always be someone in attendance in case I choke or become ill. So I must relax and try to remember Yvette's words of advice - 'Relax and enjoy it.'
I try to project my mind outside of myself in my captivity and look down on the anonymous figure I have become. I see that I am a tightly encased body in thick, shiny black leather held down by numerous straps every few inches up my body. Out of the heavy leather hood sticks two rubber breathing tubes. Is that really me inside ?"
The mental image stirs me despite my anger at the humiliating position. The hell with my training. Just why should I be put into this insufferable and impossible situation ? Why am I here, being trained as a slave for Guy, my loved one ? how dare he inflict this on me ? Willingly I will go down on him, pander to every sexual need he may require, love and cherish him in every way, so why this dreadful training for some weird subservience as a slave ?
Abruptly I return to myself, the bondage cruelly tight and wrapping me into a cocoon of helplessness. My heavily rubber-gloved arms are strapped inside the leather suit so firmly that it is impossible to move even a finger.
I try to remember the other advice I had been given, to sink into one's bondage and punishment. But how can I ? Every single muscle of my body is constrained by tight rubber and leather.
So I lie here, immobile, breathing through my precious nose tubes, the wide rubber gag inside my leather helmet stretching my cheeks and mouth, the soft foam rubber blindfold effectively keeping y eyes closed.
Suddenly a wonderful feeling encompasses me. The blackness over my eyes disintegrates, and I am in a palace with girls waiting on me. Then Guy, my devoted lover, enters dressed in his fantastic white leather outfit. He came to me, knelt, and kisses me through the thin rubber I am wearing, then indicates my girl slaves who are bringing in a figure dressed entirely in shiny white vinyl.
"Now look well, slave Gerda" my lover said in a low voice, charged with sex. "For this is your slave. In that heavy costume, you cannot know if it is male or female. He or she is yours to put to death by any means you wish. But, to win my love, you must take pleasure while you cause its' death."
I screamed and protested because I did not want to be responsible for anyone's death and suddenly I was the figure in the white vinyl, totally encased, with a hood with eye and nose holes only. I saw Guy and my other self through a thin mist and heard myself cry out to them.
"Dress me properly and completely, in rubber and leather, then whip me to death. I love you so much, Guy, that only in this way can I prove it to you. Gag and bondage me tightly so that I can suffer your strokes, and remember that I love you until I die !" The scene faded and I came back to my meditation bondage. I felt numb all over, but now it was a pleasant sensation and now I felt curiously happy that I was unable to move even a finger. I found, in my blindness, a difficulty in concentrating on my immobility. Again I seem to be drifting through the air, untrammelled by a physical body. Now I was in a dungeon full of terrifying instruments of torture, but strangely unconcerned as if I belonged there. My body was encased in tight leather, with holes to allow my breasts to poke through. My hands are manacled behind my back, and my booted feet spread apart by a metal rod strapped between my ankles. I had no idea of time, had I been here for ten minutes or ten hours ? All I knew, in a flash of pure sexual exhilaration that I seem to be enjoying it.
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On the stroke of midnight, after seven hours in meditation, Gerda was released from her bonds by an instructor and a serving maid.
She was only partly conscious, her erotic dreams and fantasies mingling with slowly returning reality, that she was a slave in bondage.
Her limbs ached and tingled as the straps were removed, and as her legs were lowered to the floor the instructor held her securely by the shoulders while the maid unlaced the heavy leather sheath.
Curiously Gerda felt wonderful as her senses returned. She did not want the terrifying helmet loosened, loving the complete and tight enclosure cutting off sight and sound so that she could escape into the darkness and soar in her own fabulous dreams. At the beginning the heavy gag had caused her jaws to ache, but now she felt a pleasant numbness, as if her face was encased in cement. It was with regret she felt the thick leather hood being unlaced, and next moment she was blinking in the light through the eyeholes of her own latex mask, clamped wetly against her face. As the gag was pulled out, she worked her mouth and gratefully accepted the glass of brandy offered by the instructor.
A jovial faced man moved over and applied a stethoscope to her latexed chest. He was obviously some sort of medic.
"Hi doc," she said weakly, "Am I keeping you up ? What day is it ?"
He grinned at her. "You've a remarkable constitution Gerda ! it's midnight, you have been in meditation for seven hours." He dropped the stethoscope. "A strong heart, too, you're as fit as a fiddle. Feel all right ?"
"Fine, I think ! Stiff as hell, bit I'm thawing slowly. Doc, how is it possible for me to feel even tolerably good ? I feel as though I've been on a LSD high. Does meditation affect everyone this way ?"
"Only sometimes. Others emerge feeling religious. Some fight against it and suffer, then I am afraid I have to keep them in the clinic for the night. Nothing serious, just exhaustion. And then sometimes it can be very therapeutic."
"You're kidding !"
"No. Pure meditation, with sight and sound and movement completely cut off can sooth a troubled mind. The victim feels she is completely helpless and all responsibility and worry have been taken away from her. That, of course, is why so many women love slavehood after they have adapted to its' rules. No more responsibilities, just obey !"
The instructor brought across a heavy mackintosh robe and held it out for her to slip in to. "Put this on, you mustn't get a chill while your circulation will be slow."
Gerda buttoned up the long rubber gown, feeling slightly unreal and absurd, the three of them acting as if they were at a cocktail party. As if reading her thoughts, the instructor smiled through his leather hood.
"You're dismissed, slave Gerda. My congratulations, you came through splendidly !"
Gerda took a step and gasped out loud, nearly falling at the sensation. In her aroused state, the wedges still firmly in place gave an almost intolerable amount of stimulation with every step. She saw her audience grinning widely as she pulled herself together, as best she could, and walked out the room with as much dignity as she could muster.