Conspiracy 2

by Jezziebelle

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© Copyright 2006 - Jezziebelle - Used by permission

Storycodes: M+F/f; bond; kidnap; packed; trunk; reluct/nc; X

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Investigative journalist Jenna has been caught trespassing on shady entrepreneur Rob Fletcher’s property…

Part Two

The corporate party at Rob Fletcher’ shady enterprise was in full swing. Jenna, of course, had found herself to be too tied up to attend…

Rob circled round the party, greeting friends, acquaintances and business partners warmly. A few he took aside into a corner and murmured something quietly to them, each time resulting in a pair of wide eyes and an eager nod.

An hour or so later, as the main body of the guests dispersed, Rob’s chosen few – his closest friends – lingered behind and followed Rob into the bowels of the building, heading for the warehouse. There were three men, and one adventurous woman. They were high with anticipation, and chattered nervously.

The sight that greeted them as they entered the warehouse and Rob turned up the lights was Jenna’s naked, trembling bottom pointing straight at them.

‘Jesus,’ breathed Pete, the first to step forward and admire. His eyes traced her bonds: bent at a ninety degree angle over some kind of metal frame, Jenna was stretched out and pinned by cable ties from her bound ankles near the ground to her outstretched arms, raised above her head and fastened to the far side of the frame. Her head faced downwards, her tousled hair obscuring her identity. At the sound of the visitors entering, Jenna had begun to struggle again, and they watched her in delight as she writhed against the harsh ties and moaned almost imperceptibly into her gag. Just visible on her bottom were the slight red marks of Rob’s earlier spanking.

‘Who is she?’ asked Mike, divesting himself of his jacket and loosening his tie.

‘An investigative journalist who’s discovering it might not be such a good idea to fling unfounded accusations at me,’ replied Rob with a straight face.

Mike laughed. ‘Come off it, we all know she’s someone you’ve hired for the evening. But we don’t mind.’

Rob raised an eyebrow and said nothing. He’d told the truth, and if they chose not to believe him that was their business.

Sam was frowning. He stepped forward and ran a hand over Jenna’s taut bottom. Then he slipped his index finger between her thighs and felt for her pussy. He withdrew it glistening with her juices, and smiled.

‘Well, she’s enjoying it. I guess we can tell our consciences to take a hike.’ And with that, he unzipped his trousers, withdrew his already hard cock, and pushed it straight into her.

Jenna screamed into her gag as she felt her internal muscles contract around him. Oh god, that felt so good… and the consciousness that Rob was doing this to her without her consent, as punishment for being caught rifling through his files, drove her even higher. The position she was bound in made every last inch of her accessible to Sam’s plunging cock. And there were at least three more people watching…

She’d never been fucked whilst unable to move before, and the sensation was intense. The more she writhed, the tighter her bonds felt. From behind her came voices saying things like ‘Go Sam!’. Sam thrust deeper and faster, starting to spank her as he did so, which made her even wilder.

Feeling a vibration beneath her, Jenna opened her eyes and got the shock of her life to see a petite woman gazing up at her. She was climbing into the inside of the metal frame, squeezing herself inside till she was directly under Jenna. Instinctively, Jenna turned her head to hide her face, but it didn’t matter, because Melena didn’t recognise her.

Jenna’s breasts were bound with cable ties, one round the base of each so that they swelled angrily beneath her. She froze as she felt a gentle caress on each of them. Then a hot tongue circled each nipple, and soft lips worked them into hard lumps. Jenna was pulling at her bonds, trying to escape this enforced lesbian encounter, but all the while getting hotter and hotter, moaning continually through her gag. As Sam gave one last thrust and came inside her, Melena sucked hard on one nipple and pinched the other till Jenna was overtaken by a wave of orgasm so strong spots swam before her eyes.

‘My turn,’ said Mike, and took Sam’s place immediately. His cock was a little shorter, but thicker, and stretched Jenna quite considerably.

Melena withdrew, and after a moment Jenna felt Rob loosening the ties round her arms and torso. He moved her arms so they were spread out towards the far corners of the frame, and tied them securely in place. Jenna could now lift her head and look around, if she wished, but she didn’t. Not until Melena climbed on top of the frame and sat down in front of her did Jenna look up and catch sight of something she’d never seen before, and didn’t really want to see now.

Melena lifted up her skirt and slid so Jenna’s face was directly between her legs. She was so close there was nowhere else she could move her head – she was pressed into Melena’s pussy, already feeling her juices wetting her face. With Mike reaming her from behind, Jenna had enough to worry about, and this was too much. As Melena undid her gag and pushed her face into her, she rebelled, shaking her head and shouting. She’d never wanted to do this. She’d always thought of herself as 100% heterosexual… and now here she was being simultaneously fucked and forced to give oral sex to a strange woman…

Melena had to pinch her nose, hard, till she would oblige. Unable to breathe much through her mouth, and tears coming from the pain in her nose, Jenna was forced to comply. She put out her tongue and started to lick, reluctantly, Melena’s hands pushing her ever closer in.

Eyes screwed tight shut, Jenna came for the second time just before Mike, and just after Melena.

Rob rebound her arms so that they were pinned behind her. Mike and Melena stepped back, and let Pete approach. Dazed and exhausted but still bound motionless and on fire within, Jenna froze as he began to lubricate her ass with her own juices.

At the same instant, Jenna wanted nothing more than his cock in her ass, and wanted to kill everyone in the room for so casually taking her anal virginity… She moaned loudly as his cock began to press against her ass, every muscle straining to keep him out – then her body gave way, and the head popped inside. Every nerve ending shrieked as Jenna writhed in her bonds, Pete pushing ever further in till she was impaled on him. He began to thrust, slowly, deliberating, savouring the sensation.

In front of her, Sam was ready to go again. He clambered around the struts of the frame till he stood before her, groin at the level of her face. He lifted her head by her hair, and manoeuvred till her mouth captured his cock.

Jenna had no strength left to argue. Her body taken possession by these strangers, she gave in, and let them fuck her from both ends. Melena slid a slender hand into her pussy from beneath, filling her completely. She fell into an ongoing orgasmic haze that seemed to stretch for hours, as the invaders slid in and out, in and out, in and out…

When she awoke, everyone had left.


Rob left her alone for an hour to cool down, then returned to the warehouse to release her.

‘Bastard,’ she murmured as she slumped to the ground, stiff muscles unable to keep her upright. Even in her abused, dishevelled state she was sexy. Rob could still read the black words he’d written on her body a week ago. IT’S NOT WHAT YOU THINK. Well, it was true. Finally recalled by pity, he took off his jacket and put it round her shoulders. She glared at him, but wrapped it round her.

‘Trespassers will be dealt with,’ he said calmly. ‘You also tried to steal my property.’ He was referring to the letter she’d taken from his office hours ago.

‘You are going down,’ replied Jenna. ‘You think this kind of treatment will stop me from publishing my story? In fact, what makes you think I won’t report you to the police right away?’

‘If you weren’t in this at least partly for the kinky benefits,’ replied Rob with a grin, ‘then you would have had me arrested long ago.’

Too late, Jenna looked up and saw that he’d taken a wad of cloth from his pocket and was pouring some kind of liquid onto it from a bottle.

‘Time to go home,’ he said as he clamped it over her nose and mouth. ‘I’m sure we’ll met again.’

Slipping rapidly from consciousness, Jenna managed to direct a couple of choice swearwords at him before she passed out.


Awaking in her bed again, muzzy headed from the anaesthetic, Jenna thought to herself that this really had to stop happening.

Remembering last time, she quickly threw back the covers and checked her body for more messages written in permanent marker. There was nothing, thank god. But there was something round her neck…

Staggering to the mirror, Jenna faced her reflection with a look of horror. Buckled round her neck was a thin, black leather collar with a silver buckle. The buckle was padlocked shut.

What was he trying to turn her into? Some kind of kinky slave who would succumb to his every whim? Just as Jenna’s self righteous ire welled up, she had a sudden image flash into her mind of herself bound in Rob’s warehouse, fucked by four strangers, and enjoying every second, much against her conscience… She shook her head violently, refusing to give in to it, and went to work on the collar.

Nothing would remove it, at least not without taking her head with it. Giving up finally, with tired arms and a sore neck, she stepped into the shower and prepared to start the day.

Jenna, a successful investigate journalist, believed Councillor Jones was coordinating a election rigging conspiracy to get himself re-elected and thus not have anyone find out about his embezzlement and countenancing of illegal chemical dumping in a nearby river. She had also found out in the course of her researches – or at least thought she had – that Rob Fletcher was in on the conspiracy.

No matter how tight he tied her, she was not going to give up her story. She was adamant.

She’d exhausted every lead and still needed proof of Rob’s involvement to close the circle and publish with confidence. What she needed was an interview with him, but he’d already proved he was not to be trusted.

She spent two days looking for the ideal venue. When she found it, she rang Rob’s office and left a message telling him where to meet her. She wasn’t sure he would come, but it was worth trying.

She’d found an old warehouse that had a secure metal grill dividing the room in two. It could be rolled back, but tonight it was locked firmly in place. Rob had been told to enter on the left hand side. Jenna, safe on the right hand side, would be able to make her escape easily should he try to reach her.

She wore a scarf to cover the collar locked round her neck.

At ten pm, he arrived, and walked slowly into his half of the room, an expression of curiosity on his face. Jenna shivered, remembering the things he had done to her, but stood firm. It was her turn to be in control.

‘Afraid I might try something?’ he asked in an amused tone. Jenna raised a cynical eyebrow.

‘I assume you invited me here for a reason,’ he continued. ‘By the way, the scarf suits you.’ He flashed her a wicked grin.

Unconsciously, Jenna put a hand up to her throat and scowled at him. ‘All my information still points to you being the lynch pin of this operation. I’m going to publish next week regardless of what you say tonight, but I thought you might want to put your side of the story.’

Rob looked resigned, and stepped forwards to the metal grill. He rested his forehead against it.

‘As you may have heard me say before, it’s not what you think.’

Jenna didn’t realise she was slowly moving ever closer to the grill. ‘That’s not good enough,’ she replied.

‘Can you trust me when I say you might do more damage than good if you publish?’ he asked.

Jenna gave a hollow laugh. ‘Trust you? Not as far as I can throw you. You do recall the last three occasions we met…’ Her voice tailed off as Rob caught her eye and a moment of telepathic communication told them they’d both enjoyed it.

‘You can trust me,’ said Rob, holding out his hands through the grill.

Jenna couldn’t help herself. She was too attracted to this intelligent, mysterious alleged villain to stay back. Slowly, she stepped forwards and put her hands in his.

Rob pulled her arms gently up and out, wrapping her hands round the metal grill and holding them firmly in place. Stretched out against the vertical grill, standing on tip toe, Jenna was pressed against Rob on the other side.

He bent his head, and kissed her through the grill. If he wasn’t supporting her, she might have fallen, so intense was the kiss.

‘I’m on your side,’ he said as he released her, then turned towards the door.

Shaken, Jenna threw caution to the wind and ran for her exit, racing round the building till she met him again in the night air, heading for his car.

‘What do you mean?’ she said, breathlessly. He paused, and looked at her.

‘Aren’t the facts capable of another interpretation? One where I’m as involved as you think I am, but on your side?’

Jenna stared at him, her eyes slowly drifting to his car. They focused on the registration plate, and light began to dawn.

‘I’m sure you’ll work it out,’ he said. ‘But in the meantime, I can’t let you publish.’

‘You can’t stop me,’ she replied vaguely, brain racing, trying to process the new information.

‘I beg to differ,’ he said, as his henchman Paul clamped a hand over her mouth from behind and held her firmly.

Together, they stripped Jenna of all her clothes apart from the collar. Fighting in the cold night air, Jenna didn’t stand a chance against them. Paul kept his huge hand over her mouth so she couldn’t call out. It was all falling into place now. It was the biggest scoop of the century, and she was fighting for her freedom to publish in that Sunday’s paper.

Rob locked metal handcuffs round her wrists, in front of her, and wider cuffs round her ankles and knees. They’d come prepared to abduct her, despite her precautions. As Paul pinched her nose, she was forced to open her mouth for breath and Rob pushed a ballgag inside, buckling it tight behind her head. Then Paul lifted her bodily and carried her to the boot of Rob’s car.

Jenna began to struggle with renewed vigour when she saw the crate inside. Wooden, with a couple of narrow holes bored in the side for air, it was lined with thick felt and had a lid that lay next to it on the floor of the boot. There was no mistaking its purpose. She kicked and hit out but got nowhere. Paul held her over the crate as Rob fed her cuffed legs inside and Paul lowered the rest of her slowly inside. Once her legs were bent inside, she lost all purchase and couldn’t stop them folding the rest of her body into the cramped space, pushing down on the top of her head, and fixing the lid into place. The sound of a hammer and nails sealed Jenna’s fate.

She was curled in a foetal position, her body bent over her knees, her arms folded up close to her chest. The walls of the crate pressed against her from all sides. She screamed in fury into the gag, but all sounds were soon killed by the boot closing above her.


They swung the crate out of the boot of the car outside Rob’s home, a vast modernised farmhouse set in acres of private land. As Paul manhandled it inside, Rob made a swift phone call to Jenna’s editor. No, she wouldn’t be filing a story for this weekend’s paper. Yes, appendicitis, it was a total surprise, but she’ll be better soon.

Paul drove off in the car as Rob went inside and locked the door behind him.

He had to stop Jenna from publishing. If she leaked what she knew, the consequences would be disastrous. He wouldn’t normally use such means, but hey, she seemed to be enjoying it, beneath the self-righteous indignation at being treated in such a way.

He hummed as he prised the lid off the crate, which Paul had deposited in the cellar.


Jenna had had plenty of time to think during the journey, at least when her mind was not entirely taken over by alternating thoughts of anger and arousal.

Rob’s car had government plates. He’d told her that he was involved in the election conspiracy, but he was not the enemy. Eventually, a lightbulb flashed over the crate where Jenna was chained up and nailed in. Of course. Long, long ago she’d heard of a secret government organisation that existed to promote the interests of democracy. When all other measures had failed, and there was no hard evidence to convict the perpetrators of fraud, this secret group moved in undercover… and brought down the conspiracy from within.

When she’d first heard this, she’d naturally thought it was one of those urban myths. But could it be true? It would certainly explain a lot. If it was true, then if she published her story exposing Rob’s front – his company – as a co-conspirator in the fraud, then she could have blown the operation sky high.

Proving the existence of this secret organisation would be a scoop bigger than simple electoral fraud. She knew now that Rob wouldn’t let the corrupt Councillor Jones win the election. But she still had to publish… with her new story.

She thumped the sides of the crate impotently, cursing Rob who had cuffed and packed her so that she couldn’t reach her clitoris. The fact he was turning her on harder than ever before with his antics only made her angrier.


He wrapped his arms securely round the cuffed and flailing woman inside the crate and lifted her up and out. As she fought him, he could feel his erection rising, and smell her own arousal. Oh, why couldn’t work and play combine like this every day, he mused.

He had to use all his strength to subdue her without hurting her, and got a thump round the head from her cuffed hands for his pains. But soon he had her on the floor, pinned down on her stomach, where he unlocked her wrist cuffs and relocked them behind her back, intertwined with the chain from her ankle cuffs so she was effectively hogtied.

He stood up, breathing hard, and looked down at his naked captive. She glared murderously up at him through dishevelled hair, the ball gag cutting off her torrent of abuse.

‘I had a mind to leave you in that crate till Monday, so you just thank your lucky stars I decided otherwise,’ he said.

He knelt beside her and slipped one finger between her legs to feel the slick moisture pooling there.

‘Just as I thought,’ he murmured. ‘Now you have a choice. If you behave yourself till Monday and promise to never reveal what you know once I release you, I’ll let you come. More than once. But if you are disobedient you’ll be kept locked up with no relief for the next 3 days, and not released until you sign a confidentiality agreement. Understand?’

Jenna nodded.

‘So what’s it to be? You can see I’m not going to let you publish, now or ever. So would you prefer the easy way or the hard way?’ He gently rubbed her clitoris till she groaned into her gag. ‘Just imagine, you could come right now if you agree to do it my way.’

Jenna closed her eyes and thought hard as he slowly unbuckled her gag. Heavens, how she wanted to come, right now… and the thought of spending 3 days here with him playing kinky games was intensely appealing. But she was a journalist. She couldn’t just sit on the story. And once she gave her word, she’d be bound by it – she wasn’t one to break her promises.

Reluctantly she decided she’d have to wait him out. He couldn’t keep her imprisoned here for ever… Eventually, he’d give in and she’d be free to publish.

As the ball gag popped out from between her teeth, she forced her strained mouth to form words.

‘You can’t beat me,’ she whispered. He held her gaze for a minute, then shrugged.

‘I beg to differ,’ he replied, and stood up.

Desperate to come, trembling with anticipation, Jenna waited hogtied on the floor for his next move.


He left her several hours later, on his way to bed.

Jenna wouldn’t be getting much sleeping done. She stood in the middle of the cellar floor, in the dark since he’d turned off the light. There were no windows, so she had no sense of time passing.

Her feet were squeezed into stiff, black leather boots with heels so high she was practically on her tiptoes. They laced tightly up, holding her ankles stiff and steady.

Her legs were welded together by supple leather straps that were buckled tightly at 3 inch intervals all the way up to her bottom, digging in to her flesh. They held her upright to a metal pole that ran from floor to ceiling.

A crotch strap ran between her legs, which was attached to her corset. The strap held two massive, metal objects inside her. Not vibrators; just inert objects, filling and stretching her wide.

The corset itself was thick and boned with metal. It ran from the top of her hips up to the base of her breasts, which were bound with black rope so that they swelled up, round and red, above her constricted hourglass waist. More straps held her torso to the pole. Her hard nipples were clamped with metal.

Her arms were pinioned back behind the pole by a binder that drew her elbows together. Her hands were trapped in leather mittens and were balled into fists by strategically placed buckles.

Her neck was surrounded by a stiff posture collar that held her head up high. Her face was hidden beneath a gleaming, soft leather hood that melded to every contour. The only holes were by her nostrils, and at the top of her head where her pony tail emerged and was knotted round the pole. An inflatable gag filled her mouth.

She stood motionless, the only sign of life the rise and fall of her bound breasts as she struggled to breath deeply against the corset. Inside, her muscles clamped down on the invaders buried deep within her and she prayed for release – sexual, not physical. He still hadn’t let her come, though she’d been so close at times as he’d dressed and bound her so carefully. How on earth was she going to survive the next three days without giving in?

Continued in Part Three


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