Investigative journalist Jenna has unearthed a conspiracy that goes right to the heart of government. Conspirator Rob Fletcher has locked her in his cellar till she promises to keep her mouth shut, and Jenna doesn’t know how much longer she can hold out…
Conspiracy Part 3
Rob let Jenna sleep for several hours in the morning. Having spent 14 hours tightly strapped upright to a pole in his cellar, she needed the rest. She also desperately needed to come, but as that was his hold over her, he wasn’t going to let that happen. She slept cuffed and gagged, her arms behind her to stop her touching herself, her mouth covered with tape to stop her distracting him with her shouts.
Despite everything, she slept. She’d always had a gift for sleeping, and she needed to keep her wits about her. Rob wanted her to sign a confidentiality agreement promising not to reveal what she knew about him; Jenna, journalist to the bone, would do no such thing. Problem was, he was going to keep her here in intense frustration till she gave in. Which would win – her desire to publish or her desperate need for an orgasm or several? She didn’t like to think too much about it. Already her mind was wandering, telling her to give in and let him release her from this torment.
Rob was waiting for her when she woke. He let her use the bathroom, then carried her downstairs to his kitchen. She had given up fighting him, as she knew now she couldn’t escape and she needed to conserve her energy to resist his assaults on her frayed sexuality.
Her bound her to a chair, her arms tightly behind her, her legs roped to the chair legs. She sat forcibly upright, her thighs and chest roped hard to the seat and back of the chair, her breasts bound so that they stuck out in front of her, sensitive red globes.
When he had her secured, he removed her gag and sat down comfortably beside her. As he raised a glass of water to her lips, she shook her head, but soon realised she had to drink, no matter how humiliating the situation. She drank it thirstily, and ate the fruit and toast he offered.
Rob watched her as he fed her, admiring her figure and her sulky expression under the tousled hair. The rope suited her. She looked like a wild animal that had just been captured and was waiting for its moment to rip his guts out and escape.
‘What are you smirking at?’ she asked when he had fed her the last piece of fruit.
He grinned broadly now. ‘Your expression is a picture.’ She scowled at that and tugged angrily at her bonds.
‘You can’t keep me here forever,’ she said, though secretly suspecting that he might.
He shrugged. ‘Depends how long it takes me to break you,’ he replied casually.
As he turned away to clear up the dishes, she shivered. Break her? What did that mean? If he meant somehow to torment her so much she willingly became his what – his slave…?
Jenna gulped. She knew instantly that it was possible. She could see herself being voluntarily bound by him, pushed down to her knees, spanked and whipped… where had this all come from? It was so potent, but she had to resist. This wasn’t just a private game between them. If she submitted to him, she’d lose her chance to publish the scandal of the year.
As she turned these thoughts over in her mind, Rob stepped up behind her and, with the advantage of surprise, pushed a fat chunk of wooden dowling between her teeth, which gagged her like a bit. He pushed her head forward and twisted the stiff wires that were wrapped around each end of the wooden stick together behind her head, locking it into place.
Jenna shouted into the gag and could hear formless noises come out of her mouth. This was worse than a ball gag. At least with a ball gag she couldn’t hear herself…
He picked up her chair and positioned her right in the centre of the spacious kitchen. She struggled again against her ropes but there was no escape. All she did was pull her breast bondage tighter. She looked down at her aching breasts and moaned softly.
Rob returned with a tray of green leaves which he placed on her lap. She was powerless to shake it off. He pulled up a chair beside her and smiled in a very disconcerting way.
‘All you have to do,’ he began, ‘is nod your head to tell me you’re ready to sign the agreement. Then all this will stop, and you’ll be allowed to come.’
Jenna knew she was already dripping onto the wooden seat of the chair. She steeled herself and shook her head firmly. Oh god, how she needed to come… but she wouldn’t give in.
‘Alright then,’ he said, and carefully picked up one of the green leaves by its stem.
Jenna stared, eyes wide, as he moved it towards her left breast. She wasn’t much of a botanist so she couldn’t tell what it was till its tip brushed against her nipple and the powerful sting made her jerk in her bonds and scream into the wooden gag. Fucking nettles! The chair rocked on the tile floor as she tried to pull her arms free to reach her afflicted skin and rub the pain away. Tears began to run from her eyes as Rob slipped a finger between her legs and gently rubbed her clitoris, which was swimming in her juices.
‘Darling, I’m sorry,’ he said, stroking the side of her face. She glared at him pleadingly.
‘Don’t,’ she tried to say, but could only grunt through the gag.
He picked up another nettle leaf and raised it to her line of vision. ‘You can stop this any time,’ he said calmly, and stung her right nipple.
As Jenna bucked and moaned, he stung her again and again, covering each big, swollen breast with stings. She closed her eyes, sucked in air through her nose and tried to fight the hot pain in her breasts, and the hot fire between her legs…
Rob now pinned two clothes pegs on her swollen nipples and slipped a finger inside her, caressing her gently from within. It wasn’t enough to make her come, but enough to drive her mad. He picked a small, new nettle leaf with a vicious sting and applied it liberally to her breasts.
Still she didn’t nod her head. She was writhing in her bonds, rigid against them. Her head rocked, her breath came in gasps, and her pussy contracted over and over against his finger. Suddenly, with a loud moan, she erupted into unmistakeable orgasm.
Dammit, thought Rob. She had a greater capacity than he’d supposed for getting off on torment. He’d only meant to make her so frustrated she’d sign the agreement in exchange for an orgasm. Now he had to start all over again.
He stood up, trying to hide his own frustration. ‘You came,’ he said flatly. He looked down into her exhausted, triumphant eyes as she lay slack in her bonds, flickers of pain still running across her face.
With clinical detachment he soothed her breasts with lotion: after all, he wasn’t cruel beyond what his partner could enjoy. Jenna breathed deeply, aglow with orgasm, thrilled at her strength not to give in. What this meant for her now she didn’t care to think about… for now, she’d won the battle.
Rob released her from the chair, leaving her arms bound behind her and her gag in place. He swept her over his shoulder and carried her out of the room.
‘You’re not going to win,’ he said ominously. It was personal now.
If she wanted orgasms so much, he was going to give them to her. Until she was sick of them.
He let her sleep for a while again as he prepared for her next punishment. He had cuffed her to the bed spreadeagled so there’d be no escaping. He replaced her gag with one made from a handkerchief balled up inside her mouth, and many turns of plastic bondage tape covering her mouth, indeed the whole bottom half of her face. The tape gleamed dully in the light of the bedroom, and silenced her effectively.
She didn’t know how long she’d slept, but she woke to the sensation of the cuffs being tightened and her limbs stretched more widely across the bed – giving him instant access, she knew, to her still wet labia. She grunted into her gag but the sound turned into a moan as Rob, sitting beside her on the bed, trickled his fingers across her left breast, bumping against her very hard nipple.
She fought the pleasurable sensations for as long as she could, tensing her body against the cuffs that held her, trying to shout through the gag, but she had to give in: Rob’s hands and tongue were at work all over her body. His tongue circled her nipples as his fingers ran through her hair, and he caressed her in each one of her most erogenous zones. Bastard, tricky bastard... she thought as she felt her body quiver and surrender to his touch. Eventually she was moaning encouragement, not insults, as he edged ever nearer her clitoris. With his fingers inside her and his tongue licking her expertly, she came with a long, flowing orgasm, bucking in her bonds, desperate to feel his cock inside her.
Afterwards, he disappeared and she lay in a haze, wondering about this turn of events. First he kept her from coming to try to break her, and then he gave her this little present. Perhaps he was giving in. There was no way he could keep her prisoner forever.
Her hopeful thoughts were dashed when Rob reappeared with an ominous-looking piece of metal.
The three foot length of metal was about four inches wide, and flat apart from four cuffs set along its length, two at each end, which she presumed would soon be locked around her. Watching her expression with a wicked grin, Rob opened the device: one half of each wide metal cuff was hinged, to allow the victim’s limbs to be inserted and locked into place with a padlock through each of the four hasps.
He captured her hands first, releasing them one by one from the bedposts and trapping them with the bar. The inside of each cuff was padded with leather, and they closed tightly around her wrists. He had placed her wrists inside the two inner cuffs, which were about two feet apart, and slipped each padlock into place with a dull click.
He then released her right leg, and was caught short by the almighty kick she gave with it the minute it was free. With one leg free, and her arms only restrained to themselves, it was now or never to escape. Her foot made contact with his chest and knocked him back onto the floor where he landed with a grunt. Breathing fast through her nose, she shook off the remains of her post-orgasmic haze and flung herself into a sitting position on the bed, her eyes scanning the room for the keys to release her.
She didn’t get much time. Rob was on his feet with a nasty glint in his eye. She saw it as he stepped towards her, and didn’t know if she was more aroused than frightened or vice versa. In any case, the confusion stunned her for a crucial second. He had her lying down again, straddling her chest, before she could think to hit out with the bar locked round her wrists. He pulled the bondage tape from a pocket, and as she thrashed beneath him proceeded to wrap it firmly around her face, covering her nose but not her eyes.
She managed to take one deep breath before it was too late. Panic rising as he stood back, she implored him with her eyes to take it off. He shook his head.
‘Not until you behave,’ he said casually, and then took his own sweet time locking her ankles into place in the cuffs at the ends of the bar.
She lay still, even lifting her legs into position to help him. Her heart was racing, her lungs bursting. Not until she was secure, her legs bent back with her toes pointing to the ceiling and her ankles locked next to her wrists out to each side of her chest, leaving her rolling helpless and available on the bed with her limbs in the air, did he slowly unwind the tape from her nose, leaving the gag intact.
And then he unzipped his trousers, took hold of her hips and plunged his cock deep inside her.
She came again within minutes, whilst she was still sucking in air through her nose as fast as she could. She screamed into the gag and felt her body tense against the bar’s cuffs as somewhere in the back of her mind she realised she’d just got off on being so helpless, she couldn’t even breathe...
After Rob had come inside her, he withdrew and left her panting on the bed. She looked amazing, locked into the bar: her thighs spread backwards across her body, her calves and forearms pointing upwards in parallel, her ankles and wrists locked next to each other. Both her vagina and ass were on display, and her bottom cheeks lifted for a spanking or a whipping. Her breasts were framed by her contorted limbs, her face appearing above them through the loop made by her arms and legs and the metal bar.
‘Darling Jenna,’ he said finally, as she came back to reality and focussed on him. ‘You’ve made me mad now. I’ve almost forgotten why I’m doing this.’
His hands absently rubbed the soles of her upturned feet and she squirmed.
‘All you have to do,’ he continued softly, ‘is beg me to stop.’
Their eyes met for a long time. This had gone beyond the conspiracy now. Rob barely cared if Jenna published or not. Jenna, for her part, had forgotten she was a journalist. He just wanted to make her his. Entirely his. His slave.
And Jenna scared herself by realising she wanted him to.
She shook her head violently, trying to shake some sense into it. There was no way she could give in...
The movement jarred Rob into action. He turned to the small pile of equipment he’d placed earlier at the foot of the bed and retrieved two screw-on metal nipple clamps. They soon adorned Jenna’s breasts, very tightly. She groaned and shivered as he ran two lengths of string from the clamps and tied each one off to her corresponding big toe, where her feet were locked above her. With her feet bent back, the tension wasn’t too great.
Working with concentration, Rob then positioned a vibrating butterfly over Jenna’s clitoris and strapped it into place. A large egg soon followed, sliding easily into her slippery vagina even though it filled her very full. Both were turned on low. Jenna began to moan, rocking her hips softly, her eyes opening wide as the movement somehow made her toes tug on her nipples clamps. She could see Rob smiling gently as she did so.
Now he squirted cold jelly liberally on her ass and worked it carefully inside her with his fingers, watching her face as she contracted around him, feeling another orgasm build even though she was exhausted. The plug that slid inside her was practically solid, and very fat. She shouted out as it passed her muscles and seated itself within her, tormenting her already. That, too, vibrated, and Rob turned it on.
Jenna was already melting into orgasm as Rob picked up the whip. It wasn’t a serious one, but she would certainly feel it: made of many long, thin strands of soft rubber, it ranged from soft teasing to proper strokes in the right hands. Rob had the right hands. He tapped her bottom gently with it, letting her know what was coming, and raised the strength of his strokes as she crested her orgasm.
Jenna came again – amazingly, a third time in such a short period... It almost felt like it had been dragged from her. She writhed in pleasure and pain, her feet flexing wildly and torturing her nipples in the process, her head rocking from side to side. Rob didn’t stop whipping her. The strokes built up in strength and frequency, the ends of the rubber strands sometimes catching her labia, till her bottom was burning with an addictive heat. The third orgasm never quite ended before it became the fourth.
Jenna lasted almost two hours before she broke. She lost track of the climaxes he forced her on to, using the vibrators, his hands, his tongue, the whip, the clamps, even a electrical device that sent tiny shocks coursing through her body – and which made her anal muscles contract so hard that each time practically counted as an orgasm. Her hands and feet had gone numb from being raised in the air by the bar, and her nipples were on fire. The gag still held, keeping her shouts and moans inside her. How was she going to get him to stop? No more, she could take no more, she was his entirely and would do whatever he wanted...
Eventually she got his attention by humming rhythmically into her gag, repeating morse code SOS over and over again till he noticed. She was so exhausted it was an effort. He paused in his ministrations, caught her eye, and started to release her.
As soon as she was unlocked and ungagged, he turned her over on the bed and bound her arms behind her and her ankles together with the bondage tape. Standing beside the bed, he said simply, ‘On your knees,’ and waited.
Stiff and sore, and still bound, Jenna struggled into a sitting position and slipped gracelessly to the floor, kneeling before him and pressing her face into his crotch. He unzipped his trousers and she took his length inside her mouth with a hunger he had only dreamt of. Floating on a wave of triumph, he came down her throat within a few minutes.
He pulled her onto the bed, clumsily releasing her from her bonds, feeling her arms wrap around him as he entwined himself round her. Tangled together, they fell asleep before either of them had the breath for words.
Jenna woke first, her sore and aching body protesting its ill treatment, but her soul glowing inside. Rob was still asleep. For the first time since she’d arrived in this house, she was free from restraint. She could leave now, and publish her story.
For some reason she was still lying there when Rob awoke.
‘So what are we going to do now?’ he murmured, running his hands over her body, tracing the rope and whip marks from earlier.
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Jenna. She honestly had no idea. She couldn’t expose Rob, not now... not when he’d made her his. But still, she had her principles...
Rob had reflexively picked up a length of rope and was winding it gently round her wrists, knotting it securely. Jenna smiled at him as he realised what he was doing, and he grinned sheepishly back at her.
‘You just look so good all tied up,’ he said, and she lay back sleepily as he continued to tie her. It felt so right... With her legs and knees comfortably pinned, and her bound wrists tied off to a rope round her waist, she snuggled against him, happy beyond measure.
‘I’ll make a deal with you,’ he said, after a while. ‘You keep my secret, at least for now, and I’ll keep you.’
Jenna smiled to herself. ‘Seems like you get all the benefit there,’ she murmured teasingly, earning herself some just-tight-enough breast bondage for her pains. ‘But if you insist,’ she gave in, ‘I’ll agree if you throw in at least one other juicy story. You must have lots of scandals tucked in the back of your filing cabinet.’
Rob gazed down at her bound body and contented face, and realised it was worth it. ‘OK, deal,’ he said. ‘But there are at least two ex cabinet ministers who are really going to regret this...’
Over the next few months, Jenna’s by-line became the one to watch out for as she came to specialise in political exposés which nobody had seen coming. She wrote her copy bound tightly to her chair, her wrists manacled to the computer keyboard, her mouth securely gagged, and she’d never been happier – or written better.
If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!