Tied in layers of rubber and leather | Gerda's story 54 | free bondage stories

Gerda waited. Up till now, it was not too bad. She had endured long nights in meditation and heavy bondage. She heard the faint crackle of Laura's costume as she walked back and forth.

"You will then be laid into a coffin which has been made to your exact measurements. A wooden sarcophagus, in fact, fitted to your body. Your breathing tubes will be passed through small holes in the lid, which will then be hammered down, making it air tight. You will remain inside for twelve hours. Rest assured that your air supply will be constantly monitored, and there is an emergency supply in case of problems with the pump." She turned to the Instructors. "Put her into the meditation sheath."

Dimly Gerda was aware of the thick tight leather sheath being slid onto her, and her arms being forced into the enclosed sleeves, then the familiar tightening of the laces from the feet to the neck until she was a rigid piece of humanity, totally incapable of moving or crying out. Her fear of claustrophobia flooded back. It was quite one thing to be in helpless meditation secured to an operating table or bed, quite another to be nailed into a heavy coffin. She tried to protest, to ask them to wait, to reason that this was too much. Only muffled grunts emerged from under the strict hoods.

Effortlessly two of the Instructors lifted her up, then lowered her slowly into the wooden coffin lying on top of the operating table. It was a tight fit, and they had to push her body into it. She felt the rigid wooden sides, curving in to hold her thighs and legs equally closely, her arms and hands and fingers useless inside their layers of rubber and leather. She tried to scream in protest, but her mouth was too tightly closed by the rigidly laced hood.

Then, blessedly, she heard her Master speak. He leant down close to her head, so that only she could hear his voice.

"relax, my little slave ! remember all your training now, and always remember this is a test of your own qualities. It is not a punishment to endure, but a test to be passed ! Be brave now, for I love you and I want you to return my love with your own submission and strength."

She felt tears in her eyes, wetting the inside of her mask, then she felt a brief constriction at her nose as rubber pipes were attached to her nostril tubes, and cool air began flooding into her lungs. She realised she was now totally divorced from the world outside, helplessly dependant on the air pump.

Impassively, Le Compte nodded to the Executioner, and one of the Instructors fitted the lid of the casket over the top, while the other took six nails and hammered them trough the lid. But, unknown to the hapless slave inside, two thick steel jemmies had been inserted at either end to ensure instant opening of the lid in case of trouble.

Gerda felt and heard the hammer blows as the coffin top was sealed down over her body. She tried to wriggle, but she was so tightly squeezed into the box, and the lid so low, that it was impossible to move. She drew in great lungfuls of air, as if to reassure herself that she was still alive.

I'll never stand it, she thought in a frenzy, I must get out somehow, how can I give the emergency signal from in here ? I would be dead long before they could get me out. In frightful expectation, she breathed in deeply, half expecting a suffocation despite the Executioners words.

Steady, girl, remember what Guy said, they're not going to murder me, it is only a test ! She wished she could move just on finger, or even her mouth. Her face felt as if it had been encased in concrete.

Above. the Executioner looked down impassively at the sinister coffin with the two pipelines emerging like snakes, connected to the smoothly purring air pump. She tried to imagine what her slave was suffering, and felt a surge of sexual pleasure. Mentally she ignored it, she had a heavy responsibility as this was her own idea and Le Compte had only reluctantly agreed to it being part of Gerda's examinations. There would be plenty of time for fun and games with her slave later. She turned to the three Instructors.

"Two of you must remain on duty at all times. You will be relieved every two hours. Keep your eye on the pressure gauge. If it falls even slightly then bring her out immediately. If it rises then you call me at once, but don't do anything, it will only mean she is panicking and I can be here within seconds to make a decision. If the pump malfunctions then swap her tubes to the emergency supply and bring her out. I hope that is clear, we take no unnecessary risks."

"Madam, do you really think that she will be able to last the full twelve hours ?"

"With slave Gerda, anything is possible !" replied Laura enigmatically.

Several hours had passed, although Gerda had no means of knowing it. One minute could seem like an hour if she panicked, or an hour could drift past with her hardly realising it if she relaxed completely.

She knew she was now slightly delirious, as between bouts of sanity, when she regained some control of her mind, she sensed she was hallucinating. She welcomed these dreamy spells, as she lost all awareness of the tight restrictive hoods and the cruel bondage of her costumes. Most of all, it was possible to ignore the fact that she was utterly helpless inside a coffin.

Eventually it became difficult for her to grasp where she was, even in her increasingly rare lucid spells. Her arms were numb and she thought for a moment her dream of being amputated had come true. The darkness was so intense she no longer tried to open her eyes against the tight masks. Her jaw was fixed immovably, and she felt she would never speak again. Only the gentle pressure of the air being forced into her lungs assured her that she was not already dead.

For a time she dreamed she had the Executioner suspended in the nude from bound wrists, while she tried desperately to whip the slim white bottom. But try as she might, the whip swung through the air in slow motion, landing uselessly across her buttocks, while Laura twisted in her bonds to mock her, urging her to whip her harder.

Then suddenly Gerda was fully conscious in her dark prison, aware of her situation. She tried to move, relieve to feel a gentle 'gluck' of perspiration somewhere around her waist. She breathed in deeply, thankful the was no problem with her air supply, trying not to imagine all the things that could go wrong

Her mind was very clear now. This is what it's all about, she reasoned, to be able to accept any punishment or torture or test without panicking. Panic was the destroying agent, if you could somehow cast it aside you could reason with Fate and come to terms with your problems. She wished she had a rod to mack on, then realised she was so tightly laced into the leather sheath it would have been impossible anyway.

Dear Guy, she thought, I bet you're suffering for me at this moment, knowing what I am going through. Don't worry, i can stand it now and relax, and, as Yvette advised, almost turn into pleasure. I'm warm and comfortable - well, I'll make believe it - and now I'll drift off to sleep ....

She awoke suddenly, panting for air, black darkness a physical blanket fighting her very reason. Her invisible arms fought invisible enemies, then she was taking deep breaths of pure air, her sensed returning.

Above, the two Instructors already had hold of the jemmies to force open the coffin, the rising dial suddenly alerting then to her panic attack. They watched with relief as the needle returned to it's normal position.

She lay there, conscious and pleasantly unworried. She knew now that the worst was over and there was no need to panic or become anxious. Slowly she drifted off onto a cloud again, but now her dreams were pleasant and her breathing deep and regular.

After twelve hours Guy and the Executioner stood by as the coffin was opened. She was lifted out by the Instructors and gradually released from her heavy bondage and masks. Wearing only her working suit and mask, she found her limbs were still too numb to support her weight. Guy leant over and kissed her still num mouth as she was carried away. One bleary eye winked at him through the hood.