THE THIRD TRIP
And so they had gotten accustomed to having their lives with more
money, and their life with their special brand of fun.
Some place along the way, they had a very serious discussion
about over-indulging themselves. Now that they could afford
almost anything, they worried they might get jaded; and so they
had established a ration. Total number of hours per month for
use of dungeon apparatus was fixed, although time spent in any of
the three cells by either of them would not count against
apparatus time. Significant whippings for each were limited,
though love making sessions involving the use of whips, paddles
and the like were excluded from the time limitations.
Very early, they realized that some of the dungeon play might be
so exhausting that fucking and sucking might not be feasible. It
was agreed that whenever that happened, some vanilla sex would
follow before another trip to the dungeon. Of course, they
realized they would not be punching a clock, so to speak, but
they were serious about not becoming hedonists.
And so life went on.
The trip in the second year was to be made to some out-of-the-way
places, not ordinarily on the agenda of the typical tourist, but
which would have particular appeal to them. It had been amazing
how their world had expanded since their first trip to Europe.
The D&S community was small, but tight.
The trip would last 22 days, and would take them to every
continent except Australia and Antarctica. From the time they
left until their return, Mary would be in some form of bondage or
another. That idea alone was enough to have her on edge for the
whole fucking week before they left. And, it was a fucking week,
indeed.
It was felt the elaborate brace outfit they bought two years
earlier would be impossible to explain in their luggage, and Mary
couldn't wear it for the full 22 days. Well, she could, but they
planned on some energetic sight seeing and that wouldn't be
possible if she was carrying all that steel.
For the flight, she wore a heavily boned corset and a locking
chastity belt. On her wrists, were heavy bracelets which looked
odd, but were discrete as there were electro magnets built in --
when the switch was on, the magnets held the bracelets together
firmly and she was cuffed as well as she would be in any of their
conventional cuffs.
Lacing the corset on her was always a thrill for both of them.
She didn't corset every day, being torn by wanting the
compression of the corset and the desire to be essentially naked
under minimal clothing. The chosen corset was a silk brocade
with metal stays every inch, very heavily boned indeed. She
stepped into it, and, with Ike's help, pulled it up her body.
Her titties rested in half hammocks, and it descended downward to
just above her shaven pussy. In the back, her ass was mostly
bare as the corset came down to just below the start of the crack
of her ass. She held it up as Ike began the first tightening of
the laces. As he did so, she felt herself begin to fall into the
grip of the garment.
After he tied it off the first time, she did some stretching
exercises. They had found this to be helpful so that the corset,
while still somewhat lose, might accommodate itself to her
figure; she also was able to release any skin folds. Then she
grasped the post of their bed, and the serious lacing began. Her
breath began to come in short, shallow gasps; sweat beads had
begun to pop out on Ike's forehead and his breathing had grown
more ragged.
When he tied it off the second time, Mary held on to the post for
a few seconds, and then turned to him with that sneaky smile on
her face. For years, he had known that smile: she was turned on.
It still baffled the two of them how getting laced into a corset
would turn her on, but it sure as hell did.
Because of her fairly rigid posture, positions were somewhat
limited; but, over the last few months, it had become their
chosen way to butt fuck when she was in her corset. She bent
just a bit, reached behind her as best she could to grasp her ass
cheeks and pull them apart, and Ike just stepped up; and, holding
her shoulders, he pressed into her.
It never ceased to amaze her: before the corset, she really
hadn't looked forward to butt fucking. Oh, the stuffing of her
ass was good, but....well, it just wasn't something she looked
forward to with a keen desire. And then came the corset, and she
wanted him in her ass all the time. Who the hell cared why, it
was just great. Ike wondered why the hell he hadn't bought her
the corset years before!
Later, when he had withdrawn, and then had helped her to clean up
(with a wry, inward grin, she thought the corset did have it's
benefits), she again grasped the post, and Ike continued the
constriction. As the corset closed in on her, relentlessly, she
began to sense the moment when she would swoon. Geeze, the first
time she had swooned while Ike was tightening the laces, he had
been scarred out of his wits. She had just dropped, like a
stone, without warning. Momentarily witless, he took a scissors
and cut all the laces, and then was on the verge of calling the
rescue squad when she began to come to. Her reaction utterly
startled him: she giggled. From then on, when they wanted the
constriction to be maximum, she would be laced to swooning. He
would ease her down to the bed, and then loosen the laces just a
tiny bit before tieing them off as he waited for her to come
around. Mary had discussed this with her doctor, who was amused
but who assured them no serious harm would occur provided they
continued the habit of the slight loosening to ensure proper
blood supply to her head.
With the corset firmly in place, the chastity belt was fitted to
her. She had two, one to be worn alone, and one for over the
corset. Both were made the same way, one being slightly larger
to fit over the corset (even with the waist reduction, there was
a slight swelling to her hips; they had tried to fit the first
belt over the corset and, while it would work, they decided to
spend the money to make a proper fit). There was a locking belt
with a front piece that descended downward between her legs which
ended in two chains going upwards over her ass cheeks to the belt
in back. The front piece fit her pussy closely, with a thin slit
through which the outer lips of her pussy would protrude
slightly, but which prevented insertion of anything. The
pressure on the lips kept her in a constant state of low arousal,
which was just fine, for the both of them.
The bracelets were then fixed in place. They really were
massive, but most people who even looked at her when she had them
on simply considered them rather bold statements, but nothing
more.
The rest of her traveling costume was a very tight leather skirt,
stay high hose, knee length boots with a moderate 3 inch heel,
and a loose fitting suede blouse. On her neck, was a gold collar
that locked on with a concealed lock. Her coat was leather.
Getting through security at the airport was much simpler now.
One of their very many new friends/contacts put them in contact
with the head of Security at JFK. They frankly told him that
Mary wore corsets with metal stays. The result was that when
they traveled, they would notify him in advance; then, when Mary
would pass through the metal detectors and blow all the alarms
and whistles, Ike would suggest the guard at the gate call the
head of Security. Ike would identify himself, and they would be
passed through.
For Mary, the security gate was always an ordeal. She just
couldn't not blush, and she always felt everyone was looking at
her. In truth some would look, but mostly in sympathy for who
hadn't been stopped at least once. But their permission to
proceed after a single phone call would result in curious stares
but never questions.
Of course, this time Mary's outfit also attracted attention. The
narrow waist could not be missed [Ike had required that once in
the airport, she carry her coat over her arm], but even if one
could tear their glance away from the waist, there was the skirt
and the boots. But Mary had learned to turn her embarrassment
over attracting attention to her advantage, and she proudly
sailed through the airport, knowing a growing confidence.
Once on the plane, seated in first class, with Mary by the
window, Ike activated the bracelets and she sat with her hands
demurely clasped in her lap. Only the keenest observer would
notice that she rarely moved her hands. And, when things had
settled after dinner and the lights went down, Ike produced the
ubiquitous nerf ball, which Mary gladly opened wide to receive.
The nerf ball came out a couple times to be wetted, but stayed in
until just as a sliver of dawn appeared. Ike also released the
magnets so Mary could freshen up. The beauty of wearing the
leather was that it didn't wrinkle and her clothes looked just as
fresh as they had when they boarded.
The limo met them and whisked them off to their hotel. Once
there, they both stripped; well, that is Ike stripped and Mary
went down to her corset. Ike activated the bracelets and tied a
rope between her cuffed wrists that he pulled over the top of a
door and secured it so that her arms were up over her head. He
then secured her ankles with manacles and, after removing the
chastity belt, he began to loosen the corset. Mary expressed her
usual relief to be freed of the constriction, and then they both
stepped into the Jacuzzi, where they relaxed for an hour or so.
Bed, with sleep, followed with Mary still secured at wrists and
ankles.
Refreshed after a six hour sleep, Ike ordered room service. The
nude, cuffed and shackled Mary stepped into the bathroom while
the meal was set-up.
There followed some "private" time. Suffice to say showers were
essential afterward. Also, Mary's ass tingled!
The day's entertainment wouldn't begin until very late, so they
decided to go for a walk. Mary was locked into her chastity belt
and she wore the bondage bra too. Her outer garments were more
prosaic than on the plane, and although in leather jacket,
sweater, jeans and boots, she attracted no more than the usual
attention a beautiful woman might. In point of fact, it was
clear that Ike's very full beard was more of an attraction than
the woman who was with him.
After their walk, they had a light supper, and just hung out in
their suite. Around 10, they began to dress for the evening.
Mary would wear a full-length rubber suit. The nude Mary was
heavily talcum powdered. Her legs went in first and then,
holding her arms straight out in front, Ike pulled the upper part
to her, and then on to her body. The suit was zipped up the
back. Naturally, the fit was not loose! A full hood went over
her head. There were holes at eyes and mouth, but these, Mary
knew, would shortly be covered. Her long red hair exited her
hood in back in a huge pony tail. Next, Ike put a rubber
straight jacket on her. Her arms were crossed in front of her
and then secured behind her back. Rubber, high heeled boots were
laced on her by Ike, and then a shackle with a comfortable length
of connecting chain was attached to her ankles.
She sat while Ike dressed in soft leather slacks, knee boots and
a silk shirt. His beard covered the fact the shirt was open. On
his head, he wore a leather cap. He wore a belt from which a
quirt and a paddle dangled. Finally, he produced a rubber pump
gag, which Mary opened to receive. Ike pumped it until she
nodded that it was enough, and he squeezed the bulb once more for
good measure. She had known that he would do that so she had
nodded early, as he had known she would -- so they were even. He
then produced wrap around sun glasses like she wore that first
time in the wheel chair. She could see others, dimly. And they
left.
Mary felt very brazen indeed, strolling through the hotel lobby,
dressed as she was. Yet, the British reserve held, and no one
screamed, starred or in any way gave any indication of having
seen them.
The limo awaited them at the door.
After a short drive, they were at a private party at a large,
English mansion. The host met them at the door, collar and leash
in place, and nothing else. Mary noted that how different
reality was from fantasy. While the host was definitely sub,
and being humiliated, he was more the normal, middle aged male,
with pot belly and fleshy thighs. He might not make a good
subject for a magazine cover, but it was reassuring to see
someone more like the average male in such a setting.
Half the guests were in some form of restraint and/or
embarrassing costume. Mary and Ike moved easily through the
crowd, and both marveled at how they had changed from the days
when their bondage was very private, just between them, and now
when they regularly moved among others who lived the lifestyle
they did.
One female guest sub was in a spider web. That is, she was tied
spread-eagled to a rope web. On her head was a heavy leather,
feature-less hood that covered her down to the nape of her neck.
Her eyes were covered with a shield. The reason for such
protection was that she was the target for the darts game: other
guests used modified darts to aim at particular bulls-eyes
painted on her body: each nipple, the navel and the area of her
groin just above the pussy. The darts were lighter, and the
needles shorter, but if the dart struck her correctly, it stayed
stuck into her. That was why her face and neck were protected.
A few darts stuck in her, but most missed. It was considered
fair for her to be able to twist a bit, and that often deflected
the darts rather than permitting them to stick her. Here and
there were spots of blood on her body, but she was not claiming
distress.
Subs who were able [those not encumbered] could throw an
unlimited number of darts at their hapless simpatico; doms had to
agree that if they were unable to stick her once in five times,
they had to offer up their sub for some sort of event. Ike
tried: the first three were serious attempts to stick that sub,
but the last two were half-hearted. The Mary, who had cheered
his first three efforts, loudly booed his two failures, knowing
something awaited her later in the evening.
To her surprise, Mary was immediately taken to work off Ike's
failed attempts at sticking the sub female target. Mary was
confidant that nothing really serious would happen to her, and
she looked forward to being released from her straight jacket. .
.but it didn't happen. She was led to a metal frame. She was
assisted to step up onto pegs that were well within the range of
her shackles. Her legs were then secured to the frame. Then,
she was bent over a bar and secured that way. She was in a
whipping frame. Well, she'd done that before, many times in
fact, so she really didn't fear it. But she had reckoned without
the experience of being in rubber, or the fibre glass wands that
would be used to beat her ass.
The first stroke she felt on her ass was a revelation. Never had
she felt such fire in a first or a fiftieth stroke. She wasn't
sure she'd be able to do this. But then, what could she do: she
still had the gag, she was secure, and everyone calmly expected
her "to do her duty."
She did her duty. She did her duty to the tune of 10 strokes,
each blood curdling, and each the equal of all the other strokes
added together she had ever endured. [Later, when they were in
the limo, on the ride back to their hotel, with Mary sitting very
lightly on the edge of the seat, she informed Ike that if he was
going to continue to play darts, she was going to see that he
practiced when they returned home. He inquired if he'd have a
similar target, and she retorted, that could be arranged for
whatever good it would do.]
Her ordeal over, Mary was released. For the rest of the evening,
she avoided every opportunity to sit. She even refused her turn
at sitting on a guy's face, the old smother game. She marveled
at the guy who wore a saddle on his back, giving rides to all the
females present, dom and sub alike.
She came up on Ike visiting with some others, and he was
discussing their travel plans, and the fact that Mary would be
bound some way for the whole trip. A female dom smiled at her
and announced that Mary was a very lucky woman to have such an
attentive dom. Mary's response was that Ike wasn't always the
dom. The female dom glanced from Mary to Ike in some confusion,
and then she laughed, figuring Mary had spoken out of turn. But
it was Ike who agreed with Mary, stating what she said was true.
The female dom stalked off. One of the men with whom he had been
talking poked him in his ribs with his elbow and said the woman
who left was none too pleased. Ike merely shrugged.
Ike took Mary's straight-jacketed arm and led her away. He
related the conversation in which the one man had suggested a
side trip in Africa where some women and men did the most amazing
things with animals. Excitement arose in Mary's eyes.
A couple they met was Fanny and Frank. Fanny was a very imposing
figure in black leather: thigh high boots with very high heels, a
black leather corset-like outfit that did not so much draw her in
as to re-distribute what she had in an Amazonian fashion. She
wore long leather gloves to her arm pits, with sharply-pointed
studded cuffs on each wrist. Her hair hung loosely to her
shoulders and on her head she wore a broad-brimmed, low crown,
leather hat. In one hand was a long, black cigarette holder in
which a long, white cigarette glowed. In her other hand, she
held a leash that led to Frank's collar. They knew Frank, not
because he said who he was, but because Fanny introduced the two
of them. He had on a full leather hood, with eye holes and with
the mouth covered over with a strap that presumably had a large
leather bulb in his mouth. He was wearing a French Maid's
outfit, with a very frilly skirt that stood out perpendicular to
his waist. The bodice of the outfit was cut in such a way to
display his nipples, on which were comfortable clamps [it might
be debated if there were such things as "comfortable" clamps;
decidedly, there were clamps which were distinctly uncomfortable;
these were suitable for long-term wear]. While his male
equipment could not be seen, several weights could be seen
dangling between his legs, so presumably he was supporting some
strain. On his feet were thigh high boots, similar to Fanny's
except the heels of his boots were higher, and shackles with a
moderate length chain. His arms were behind, enclosed in a
single glove. Even though built like a male, because of
repetitious training by Fanny, his elbows were only a few inches
apart [they had been together at various times, but it was felt
better to not go the max since he'd be in the glove for a long
time that nite].
Fanny explained that she had learned Frank liked to be bound,
that she had studied the whole scene, on her own, unbeknowningst
to Frank, and then became the dom to his fem/sub side. It was a
funny thing, she said, drawing on her cigarette, that there had
been times when she knew Frank wanted something but since he
never told her, she was puzzled and even hurt. She knew he liked
bondage, and she initiated bondage related love-making on
occasion, but while he responded, and seemed to enjoy, she knew
she hadn't found the right combination. Then there was a time
she found some of his collection of erotica, and hoped that would
unlock his secret. She learned then that he wanted to be the one
tied, but his fem side she didn't learn about until she
discovered a file on their computer about a "Terri." She read
it, and was fascinated by her husband's skill at writing erotica,
and it was then she finally puzzled out the last piece: Frank was
Terri, and she, Fanny, his wife, was Jennifer!
While Ike paid close attention, and observed the mute and bound
Frank closely, Mary paid especially close attention. This
situation, including the names of Terri and Jennifer, was very
much like something she had read long ago on a bbs. The author
then had been named Frank. They had been very close, and had
exchanged some very hot chat; but then they sort of drifted
apart. Finally, Mary asked Fanny if they lived in a certain
city, and Fanny first blinked, and then said yes; adding was she
the Mary of the huge gags?
For about an hour, the three of them visited, while Frank
continued to stand, mutely, in his high heels and single glove.
Finally, it was agreed they would meet in some months in the USA.
Later that nite, back in their hotel room, Mary laid on her
tummy, bound at wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed.
Her bonds didn't stretch her, but she was secure enough so that
she couldn't use her mouth or either hand to free herself.
The next day, in corset and chastity belt, but with leather jeans
and jacket, and walking boots, Mary went with Ike to Madame
Troussard's. They had missed the famous wax museum on their
previous trips, and this time they had set aside a particular
time. They made quick work of the main exhibits, but both
marveled at the artistry.
Their main interest, however, was the torture chamber exhibit.
As soon as they rounded the last corner in the corridor, Mary
felt her inner lips, contained within the chastity belt, moisten.
Ike too was looking "forward".
The first exhibit was a depiction of Joan of Arc, burning at the
stake. For a moment, there was confusion in their minds: the wax
figure was nude, but a reading of the card explained it. It was
normal that one to be burned alive would be naked so that those
watching could watch the skin bubble and there would be less fuel
to cause smoke that would obscure the vision. The addition of
clothes in depictions of burning was done only in the 19th
century when it wasn't considered tasteful to depict a naked
Saint being burned alive. Using the latest in computer virtual
reality, it actually seemed as if Joan's body was being licked by
flames and that her skin was bubbling. The figure was secured to
an upright post with chains criss-crossing her upper body, a
chain around her neck and her hands were chained behind her.
Faggots were piled up to her knees, and the flames leaped up from
these. Mary stood there, transfixed. It was so incredibly real!
Finally, she managed to tear herself away, and moved to catch up
with Ike. He was observing a man, whose feet were locked in
stocks and his hands bound to a pole behind him, having his feet
bastinadoed. The torturer was swinging a metal rod, and the
figure's feet were already dripping blood, with the flesh cut to
the bone in some places. The card for this explained that a
person who underwent a serious bastinado rarely walked again; a
less serious treatment resulted in crippling or at least
incapitation for several weeks.
In another scene, a woman was having one of her tits cut off; the
other, already cut off, lay on the floor. Ike observed that this
would have been a real waste. Mary giggled.
The next scene was more elaborate. A woman was on a rack. She
was naked. Her feet were tied by ropes to a drum at one end of
the table; her wrists to a similar drum at the other end. The
rack was far less massive than what they had at home in their own
dungeon. The explanatory card described the rack, and the effect
it had, pointing out dislocation of one or more limbs was likely.
It then urged pushing a small button for a demonstration. Mary
pushed the button, and a narration began, overtalking the moaning
of a woman, presumably the patient. The drums were set in
motion, and the woman model's body was seen to rise slightly, and
stretch; and then the ladder under her dropped away, suspending
the body in space between the two drums. Mary turned to Ike and
said that they had to try that. Ike queried her about the
possibility of a dislocated shoulder or hip, and she said they
could be careful. He shook his head, but it was clear he was
intrigued. When the narration stopped, the lights in the exhibit
went out; and when they came up again, the ladder was back in
place.
The next thing they saw was a man seated on a bench, with one leg
in an iron boot. A torturer was setting a wedge between the leg
and the inside of the boot. Two other wedges were already in
place, and blood could be seen oozing from the leg. The
explanation card stated this was the Iron Boot, designed for the
simple purpose of crippling a person.
In the next scene, a man was undergoing a penal whipping. He was
secured to a pillar, back outward. His back was a mess of open
wounds, some of which dripped blood. The model swinging the whip
actually did so, and the single strand bull whip, about 12 feet
long, continually snapped in the air.
A small scene had a man sitting in an iron chair that had a fire
under it. The seat of the chair acted like a skillet and his ass
was literally frying.
In another scene, a woman was being pushed into an Iron Maiden.
When the doors would be closed, many spikes would penetrate her
body, none of which would kill but all would injure. She would
be left to bleed to death.
Two methods of hanging were side by side. The one was a gallows,
where a man stood on a trap door, and then the trap was sprung,
the model fell a few feet to be jerked up. The other had a man
standing on the floor with a rope around his neck. Two torturers
hauled on a rope, hoisting the man off the ground by his neck and
he was left to twist and kick until he strangled. Ike studied
this one very closely, telling Mary as they stood there, that it
was possible to hoist someone by their neck to induce
asphyxiation, but to lower them before any damage was done. So
she studied it more closely, and as she was wondering how that
might feel, Ike said with pulleys she should be able to hoist
him. She glanced at him curiously, but said nothing.
There were other smaller exhibits depicting the beheading of
Charles I and Ann Boylin. There was another showing the drawing
and quartering of a nobleman.
Finally, there were three scenes showing more modern methods of
execution. One was the Russian method of a man tied to a chair,
being shot behind the ear. Another was a scene depicting Barbara
Grahm being executed in the California Gas Chamber. The final
scene was man being electrocuted, his body surging against the
heavy leather straps binding him to the chair, with a little bit
of smoke coming out from under the leather mask over his face.
When they made their way outside, both were quite subdued. The
realism of the wax dummies and the apparatus made it all seem so
real. They thought they had seen several people die that
afternoon, to say nothing of the bodies that had been broken.
