Forced orgasm | Gerda's story | free bondage stories

Gerda stared up at the white ceiling and realised she was in her own bedroom, with her masked serving maid wiping her face with a damp cloth. Then she became aware she was nude, covered only by a thin rubber sheet. She stretched luxuriously, conscious of the stiffness in her limbs.

Maria gave a sigh of relief. "Are you feeling all right, Mistress ? I thought you'd never wake up. They brought you in here an hour ago !"

Gerda sat up, groaning slightly but feeling on top of the world. "What's the time ?" she demanded.

"Nine thirty in the morning. You were kept in the dormitory for ten hours. Was it very bad ?"

"Terrible" Gerda lied. "Actually, I must have had a damn good sleep, because I don't remember much about it ! But I'm starving !"

She took a shower and accepted her daily enema from Maria, then returned to her bedroom to find her maid laying out the reporting costume for the start of the day's training. She remembered with slight misgivings that Guy had told her she would begin her advanced suffocation treatment. She noticed Maria had put out the thin skin-tight black latex body suit with the nipples cut out. As Maria zipped it up the back, Gerda gave a faint shudder, there was something horribly humiliating about having her breasts poking outwards through the tight material.

She allowed Maria to lace on gleaming red leather thigh boots, with pencil thin heels, and a matching red leather corselet which pushed out her firm breasts even further. Then a long pair of thin latex gloves over which Maria pulled a pair of heavy rubber gauntlets.

"Why the extra thick gloves ?" demanded Gerda. Maria giggled nervously.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, orders ! I think it's to prevent you chafing your wrists if you struggle too much." It sounded ominous.

Maria laced on Gerda's slave mask, then wrapped a heavy leather collar around her neck making it impossible for Gerda to turn her head. On the back of the collar was a thick steel ring.

Despite her misgivings, Gerda felt refreshed and at ease as she strode down the corridor in her high heels, delighting in the faint creaking of her tight boots and the feeling of confidence they gave her. She knew she presented an erotic sight with her tiny waist and breasts straining out through the holes in the tight latex suit. She still found it difficult to believe she was the same girl who, months ago, had rebelled against wearing a rubber costume. She had a definite purpose in life now, and was looking forward to her advance training, no matter how severe.

She reported downstairs exactly on time to the small training room marked with a large 'S' on the door. Inside, the Executioner and a serving maid were waiting. Today the dreaded blonde lesbian was dressed entirely in white, a shiny vinyl suit and mask, her long pony tail cascading down her back from a small hole in the back of her hood. Only her hand were visible, and Gerda gave a slight shudder as she remembered that a rule of the centre was that, as a safety precaution, anyone administering suffocation must not be hampered by gloves.

"Good morning, slave Gerda ! I trust you had a restful night and you are ready for your advanced training ?"

Gerda hated the Executioner, who had cut off her long hair when she first arrived on the island, but had learnt a grudging respect for this dynamic woman who seemed to have an instinct for the extent a slave could suffer. Also, she never forced her lesbian tendencies on others, despite the obvious opportunities offered by her position.

"A most restful night, thank you !" Gerda smiled through her mask, determined not to be cowed, "I dreamt of you, Madam !" For a moment Gerda thought she had gone too far, the Executioner's eyes seemed to blaze through her mask, then abruptly she smiled.

"Good for you, slave ! I have always told Le Compte that you were excellent slave material. Now let's make you comfortable."

Obediently Gerda sat in the heavy wooden chair bolted to the floor. From dozens of straps hanging neatly on the wall the serving maid selected several and proceeded to bind her securely to the chair. Thick and wide, they were unbreakable. Finally the ring on her collar was padlocked to a similar ring on the back of the chair, pulling her head back.

"as you will notice," the Executioner said conversationally, "You're chest is free so that you can breathe easily. However, in this advanced suffocation, you must also be in pain, so you will wear these nipple clamps."

She brought over two heavy steel cops and fitted them over Gerda's straining nipples. Each cup had a small hole in the centre, with ratchet screws at top and bottom. After pushing each one tightly against a breast, she screwed up the bottom part of the cup until the steel shell compressed the rear of the breast and forced them even further forward, the nipples being pushed cruelly through the small hole on the centre. Then she tightened the top screw, pinioning the nipples forward. Gerda gave a faint groan of pain. The Executioner finished by giving each nipple a vicious tweak, causing Gerda to writhe in her bondage.

"One day I will have the pleasure of giving you a very severe punishment like that, dear slave ! You'll wear these cups, then strong threads will be attached to your nipples and you will be hauled up until you are standing on the very tips of your toes and left hanging like that, your arms secured behind you. After a few minutes the strain on your toes becomes intolerable. Should you lower your heels, however, you risk de-nippling yourself. It's very amusing !"

Gerda shivered, despite her former confidence. It was another reason why she must become the perfect slave, to avoid such punishment. She tried to ignore her cruelly crushed breasts and concentrate on her love for Guy. She must suffer for him, he had told her so !

Suddenly a black latex hoot was placed over her head and darkness enveloped her once more. She felt it being strapped around her neck and she forced herself to breathe slowly and evenly, knowing it would be at least a minute before the oxygen inside was used up. She consoled herself with the knowledge that, according to the rules, the Executioner must remain close by in case of trouble. She felt the loose latex mask against her face as she breathed in and out, then the familiar warmth came and she felt panicky as her breathing quickened as her lungs began to struggle for the life giving air.

In another twenty seconds she was writhing in her bonds, futilely trying not release her hand to tear off that suffocating hood, gasping frantically as the now useless air coursed in and out of her lungs. She tried to scream, to beg for mercy, to promise them anything just to be able to breathe again, then blessedly she felt the throat strap being loosened and beautiful fresh air was flooding into her lungs as the hood was removed.

"Just a warm up," she heard her tormenter say, "Get your breath back and we'll fix you into the official suffocation helmet !"

She felt a heavy rubber hood being drawn over her masked head and laced tightly up. A thick tube forced itself into her mouth, and she rested for a moment while she regained her breath. Now she was genuinely afraid of what was to come. She realised the tight hood now completely closed off her nose. Slowly she calmed and regained her composure until the nipple clamps were tightened until she was moaning in agony.

"Now, slave Gerda, for your advanced suffocation ! Your breathing tube has a nozzle on the outside, and I will gradually reduce your air supply."

Inwardly, Gerda fought down her fear. She knew only too well that however strong her resolve, she would eventually panic when the terrible fear of suffocation overcame her. There was no way she could avoid that claustrophobic feeling of being unable to breathe and the awful terror set in when reason became a broken instrument and nothing mattered except the vital necessity of getting air into her lungs.

She heard the Executioner walk in front of her, costume rustling as she moved. Then her breathing became harder and she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, as if this would lengthen her life span, knowing it would only prolong the agony. Her nipples were tweaked again, bringing a renewed surge of agony and breaking her concentration, making her pant. She banished the pain in her breasts in an effort to concentrate on the limited air infiltrating into the helmet. She felt the nozzle tightened again, and a few seconds later realised there was no more oxygen.

She started heaving and gasping, her frantic breaths coming quicker and quicker, words incoherently pouring through the breathing tube. She could feel the hood crinkling in and out, then stars began to flash and she gave in, screaming for mercy through the now useless mouth tube.

Almost for the first time, she had failed.