Tamara's Extreme Bondage
Part 6
Tamara took her teetering paces slowly, feeling the plugs within her compressed
loins twitch back and forth when her legs brushed against the alien,
uncomfortable, and deeply controlling shaft between them. The short wires
between her ankles and its tip added to her distress when they snapped tight
with each restrained little pace; forcing the vaginal plug to surge back and
forth within her abdomen. She didn't want to walk; but his commandingly firm
grip on her rubber-entubed arm governed her completely and she was frog-marched
back to her perch. When she tried to sit, she was horrified to find that the
rigidly mounted 'Bar would not permit it! The 'Bar only allowed her to lean her
fear-clenched buttocks against the stool's edge. Gasping against the fierce
constriction of the corset and still trying to shake her head to indicate that
she wanted out; she suddenly felt something that dragged continually at her head
and face connected to the helmet, making her feel even more controlled.
"I can see that you're having some difficulty breathing, Tamara." he muttered,
connecting then tugging on the two long corrugated rubber hoses that would
maintain and so overwhelmingly govern her life from now on. With a rapid twist
of each wrist on the hose's bayonet mounts, they were locked to her helmeted
head. Thirty seconds passed while he observed her staring eyes through their
multiple coverings. Her chest heaved desperately to get air into starving lungs;
but the inner masks sucked even more tightly against her face when she attempted
to inhale, only to be met with a wall of nothingness He turned on the
oxygen-enriched air supply then again watched closely. Now, her lungs were
forcibly filled then allowed to exhaust themselves, thanks to the compression of
the corset and suit, before being re-inflated. Tamara was but the flesh
surrounding an air exchange mechanism, almost a human robot, encased in rubber.
Her eyes closed in relief. At the regulator, the breathing bag slowly inflated
and deflated in cadence with each breath.
She'd become a soundless effigy of a female, her face, head, and body totally
obscured and bound within the Discipline suit.
She wanted out!!
Once more she tried to raise her useless mitted hands to the unbreakable bubble
covering her under-masks, desperately trying to pry it away from her face and
head. The smooth rigid ovoids slid in futility back and forth over the slick and
unbreakable surface of the helmet's face-cover.
He grabbed her left mitt and pulled her to her feet, the joining chain snapping
tight.
Tamara, who'd almost begun to wallow in masochistic fantasies, despite her fear
and the total enclosure, stood slowly then followed him reluctantly and
unknowingly. She felt as though she was being led off to her execution, or that
she was some kind of diver, or an astronaut going on a special mission. In a
way, she was all three.
She minced along behind him, the central links of her mitt chain held firmly in
his fist, continuing to deeply inhale the life-blood of air pumped into her
lungs through the uncomfortable and confining mask. For a brief moment, she
enjoyed her incarceration and how the plugs and 'Bar further restricted her
freedom; but then the corset made itself felt with a vengeance when he
disconnected the air supply hoses! She immediately began gasping desperately for
breath against the stringent compression of the python-like constriction of the
corset and rubber suit, desperately longing to have her air reconnected. A deep
foreboding quickly overcame her short time of arousal.
She could see the approaching wall only as a blurred surface somewhere in front.
When they got closer he swung aside the large tool-covered panel to reveal a
heavy steel door that she had not even known was there. "What the hell?!" she
wondered in surprise. He opened it and drew her through the thick, sound-proofed
slab into a large, sparsely furnished, cement-walled and -floored room.
He attached a small hand pump to each air connection on her breasts and in short
order she would find that the tight rubber donuts surrounding them were
inflatable ensuring each breast would always remain fully captive within its
highly specialized containment. It was be a terrifying revelation. As the
rubber teeth in the suit buried them selves into her expanding bust. "That
should give you something to think about until I return." He clipped a waiting
chain to a ring on her collar and stepped out of the room.
Behind them the door swung closed and locked with a series of harsh metallic
clacks. She didn't hear her fate being sealed, for her ears were far too
efficiently plugged under the compressing imprisonment of the helmets and masks,
and he'd turned off her sound sensing anyway.
He looked around the dungeon while she stood helplessly beside him, still
gasping desperately for each strained breath, quivering with barely repressed
fear of what was to come next and waiting for him to play out the rest of the
game; totally unaware of her coming 'education'.
She'd agreed to her part for the 'scene', along with its elaborate costume of
isolation and enclosure. Too, she'd also accepted that she was unaware of how it
was to actually be played out; but now she realized that perhaps it was going to
be more than she'd bargained for.
The white-painted chamber was starkly laid out. To one side was a comfortable
chair and desk, a large monitor, and a computer CRT with key-board. On the other
was a wide and very long treadmill, much more elaborate than the kind favoured
by health clubs. It didn't have side-rails; only two heavy straps hung from the
ceiling with gleaming hooks on their ends, waiting at the centre. At the back of
the chamber, a centre-post-supported, narrow, strap-encrusted beam was
positioned some three feet from the wall, enclosed within a small,
tightly-barred cell while in the rest of the Dungeon numerous thick-linked
chains dangled from the high ceiling.
Tamara pranced along behind him, her wrist chain firmly clamped in his fist as
he led her to the centre of the chamber then positioned her in the middle of a
three metre diameter, circular steel plate. Through slots along a
finely-machined central joint, glittering connectors of various hoses, wires,
and the shiny snap-hook of a heavy leather leash protruded. She couldn't see
them of course and had no idea that they were soon to be attached to her Suit,
and thus to her. Once standing in position Tamara fought a slowly losing battle
for each breath, twisting fitfully in her carapace; whining piteously from the
pain of the needles inserting themselves ever deeper into her nipples. Each
breath had become an agony of piercing while her breasts swelled and flexed
within their separate imprisoning containments. He bent down and pulled the
heavy leash from its slot, immediately clipping it to the tip ring of her 'Bar.
This fastening, thanks to its spring-loaded tightening, forced her shuffle
quickly to the centre of the plates when she felt the dildo's demanding surge in
her loins. It dragged irresistibly, and she had to stand in gagged discomfort,
perfectly centred over the leash's point of emergence. The sensation of the huge
plug's sudden, horribly uncomfortable movement was totally controlling and
demanding and now she had been anchored helplessly in place, only able to shift
her feet in small, restrained steps, trying to maintain her balance.
As soon as she'd been leashed he re-connected her air hoses and snapped them to
clips on the back of her Suit. A pair at a time, he drew the other hoses up;
connecting them to yet other clips. Then came the coiled wires. One doubled set
was attached to the tip of each breast cup, while another went to the front of
her helmet just under her chin where they too were solidly affixed. She'd be
nastily surprised when they were activated! Heavier hoses were screwed onto
fittings just under her air lines and evilly looping coil-cords. These being her
liquidized food and water supply lines. The coil-cords contained the wires for
her nose and tongue discipline electrodes, in addition to her audio channels.
Below her waist, he rapidly fastened additional hoses to her crotch-plate at the
front and others onto the anal area. One set was the sanitary and washing hoses
and the other her waste lines. Now, she was confined not only by her 'Bar leash;
but also by the umbilicals that would tantalize, control, torment, and torture
her.
She couldn't hear a thing within her rubber imprisonment, nor could she see what
was being done despite straining to watch while he went about his seemingly
endless tasks. She knew that he wasn't doing all these things without a reason,
and trembled, now more than a little terrified at her predicament. He quickly
connected a web of dangling chains to the strict harness embedded in her Suit
and she shuddered anew with fearful agitation when he tightened them; making her
feel as though she'd been caught in some huge, cloying spider-web. Again and
again she tried to raise her mitted hands and fend him off; but on her fifth
attempt, he grasped each of her wrists and chained them loosely to the long
spreader-bar hanging just above her head. It was so easy to over-power her
rubber-restricted struggles! He stood back, inspecting his handiwork and after a
moment of careful scrutiny, walked to the desk and settled himself into the
comfortable arm chair with a contented sigh. It was the beginning of payback
time.
"What now?" she wondered fearfully, shifting nervously on her high heels at the
centre of the steel plates; silent and helpless. Not only was she utterly
helpless and under his total control, she now began to realize with horror that
there was no way to escape this 'play' time! His fingers performed a complicated
dance on the keyboard.
With a surprised gasp, Tamara felt herself slowly lifted from the floor and
began kicking her legs against their stringent bondage; whining piteously into
her masks in growing discomfort. The crotch-piece pressed more firmly up between
her legs, driving the huge plugs ever deeper into her body. She squirmed wildly
around the deep skewering of her womanhood, instinctively trying to pull her
hands down against the spreader-bar and protect herself; but it too had risen as
she was elevated! Below her desperately kicking booted feet, the steel plates
she'd stood on a moment before, slowly split down the middle, each half pulling
off to the side with a hiss of hidden hydraulics, to reveal a dimly lit,
three-metre-diameter, ten-metre-deep, concrete-walled well. The thrumming leash
from the tip of her 'Bar descended into its gloom to a spring-loaded reel on the
floor of the silo far below, then all the hoses and wires attached to her
'Uniform' cascaded into the gaping maw beneath her feet, jerking against their
connections. His fingers flew across the keyboard yet again and she slowly began
to descend into the concrete silo of her isolation cell and torture chamber.
From within her helmet, Tamara stared silently and hysterically out at the
brightly lit room. For a moment nothing happened, then it seemed to slowly rise
around her as she was lowered. Some two minutes later she stopped moving to hang
suspended, halfway down the shaft. Above, the still open end allowed some light
to slant downwards and she craned her neck against the restriction of her collar
and helmet to stare hungrily upwards. Inevitably, for she knew instinctively
that it was going to happen she watched the steel plates begin to slide closed
across the top of her deep cell. Slowly, each centimetre of their closing
increasing her terror of what was to come, the two plates of the cap came
together. The light from above began to disappear, then with a muffled, final
clank, it was blotted out when they closed tightly together. Inside though,
Tamara could still see a dim reddish glow, an infra-red floodlight, near the
top; but it wasn't strong enough for her to discern anything other than the
stark wall of the tube surrounding her! It could be very close, or, for all she
knew, staring out through the distorting lenses over her eyes and the thick
bubble locked over her head and face, metres away.
She abruptly realized that she was now truly locked inside the tubular prison,
helplessly suspended in mid-air, halfway down it's length. Certainly, she could
still move her raised hands and arms against their slightly loose chains
fastened to the spreader-bar above her head, and she was able to kick her feet
to the limits of the short hobbles; but she was completely suspended! There
wasn't any way for her to get at a single one of her fastenings even had her
fingers and thumbs not been embedded in the sturdy eggs locked over her hands.
She remained anchored to the floor below by the sturdy strap locked to her
Inhibitor Bar, ensuring that she was kept centred, even though she could bounce
slightly on the spring-loaded chains. With a gagged-strangled and ragged shriek
of near-hysteria she thrashed frenziedly against her restraints, hidden now
within her dimly lit concrete tube, desperate to somehow free herself.
It was no use.
