Continually Increasing Bondage

by Steve Spandex

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© Copyright 2019 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/f+; FF; jail; cell; bond; captives; latex; catsuit; trick; overpower; ziptie; rope; gag; casket; encase; Solo-M; spandex; outdoors; cons/nc; X

story continues from part 9

Chapter 10

“Very nice. Very nice indeed!”

Hazel purred with delight as she cupped Jade’s duct taped chin and forced the helplessly chained woman to stare upwards into her eyes. For several seconds she smiled unfeelingly at her prey, as if taking great pleasure from the fact that she was visibly quaking with fear. Then she briefly glanced back over her shoulder at the woman standing motionlessly by the door.

“I must say Amber, you’ve done a pretty good job of making them look presentable. After all, when you said you’d had them here for a couple of days, I assumed they’d be giving off quite a nasty odour by now. But what with the nice clean cat-suits and the freshly washed hair, I can see you’ve made every effort to make them attractive to any potential buyer.”

Hazel released her grip on Jade’s face and sauntered three steps to her left, so that she was standing only inches away from Jasmine, whose head remained bowed. Reaching around, Hazel delivered a hard slap to the bound woman’s right thigh. The sharp sound echoed around the otherwise still room, and was followed a microsecond later by a slight squeal that emanated from the sealed mouth of the victim of this assault, who winced as if expecting a second smack to arrive at any moment. Hazel, however, seemed already bored with tormenting the twins, and had her sights set on the final member of the trussed up trio; the one that she really wanted to see suffer for her perceived crimes.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Lauren. I have to tell you that I’ve been so looking forward to getting acquainted with you again. Just for old times’ sake.”

She grabbed Lauren’s ponytail and pulled her head back harshly. Bending her knees so that their faces were no more than an inch or so apart, her next utterance was breathed as a malicious whisper, so softly that only Lauren could hear.

“We’ve got a few issues to discuss, you and I, before I sell you on to your new owner. And believe me, once I’ve finished with you, a life of servitude in some far off land will feel like a luxury holiday compared to what I have in store for you.”


A noise from behind her broke Hazel’s concentration. Letting go of the still damp hair, she quickly turned around. Amber had advanced to within three feet of where her enemy stood.

“So what do you think Hazel? Are you prepared to pay the fee I’m asking to take them off my hands?”

Hazel hoped her words didn’t come across as too false or insincere.

“Why of course Mistress de Sade, it would be a pleasure. Especially this one.”

Hazel beckoned towards Lauren, whose upturned, tear-filled eyes were wide and panic stricken.

“Good, we have a deal then. £5,000 each I believe was the agreed figure. Now if you’ll just hand over the money, they’re yours to take as soon as you can arrange transport.”

Hazel looked at Amber as if she was mad.

“Hand you the money? You didn’t really believe that I’d bring all that cash here tonight did you? When this whole thing could have been a set-up? You must think I was born yesterday.”

She gave a contemptuous snort of laughter, as if the very idea was preposterous.

“No, the money’s in a safe place just at the moment, but I can easily get my hands on it within twenty four hours. But until I’d had a good look at the merchandise, I wasn’t going to take any chances.”

Amber’s face reddened, both with anger and a touch of embarrassment. Anger because Hazel had laughed in her face and belittled her. But mainly because - although it was painful to admit, even to herself – it was now obvious that this was a vital detail that she’d failed to factor into her otherwise meticulously planned scheme. Of course Hazel wasn’t going to carry that amount of money around with her, especially when she was wary of her rival’s intentions and didn’t know where she was being taken. Figuratively, Amber kicked herself; how could she have been so stupid as to not work this out? It seemed that her greed, plus her desire to complete this whole sordid operation as quickly as possible, had caused her to overlook this important point.

But now this created another dilemma for Amber, which she had to come up with a decision on fast. The idea was that she got her hands on Hazel’s cash before overpowering her and tying her up. Her hope had been that, once the deal had been done, Hazel would be so preoccupied with her purchases that she’d be distracted to the point where Amber could swiftly utilise the chloroform she had hidden in her bag.

But what were the options now? Overpower Hazel without getting her hands on the money, and have to make do with the simple satisfaction that she’d captured her foe and could now mete out a day or two of punishment bondage? Or did she get involved in the longer game; bide her time and wait until tomorrow, then harvest both the financial and vengeful rewards that she’d been dreaming about? Almost immediately, she decided on the latter. Her thoughts on the subject were interrupted by Hazel’s voice, low and almost inaudible, as she once more let Lauren know of the pain – both physical and psychological - that she would be inflicting once the helpless young woman was her property. Amber decided to intervene and reassert her authority. She may have been made to look a fool, but she still wasn’t going to let Hazel talk to her prisoner like that.

“Come on Hazel, no interacting with the merchandise until the deal is settled. After that you can do what you like with her... all of them, in fact. Now let’s get out of here and back to civilisation. We’ll leave these three little cuties to ponder their fate until tomorrow.”

Momentarily, anger flashed in Hazel’s eyes. She had an intense dislike of being told what to do, and she was keen to get on with the task that she’d come back to Suffolk for. This brief show of rage, however, was witnessed only by Lauren, as by the time Hazel turned to face her host, she revealed a broad smile, and without a word headed compliantly towards the door, where Amber stood fidgeting with the door handle, as if anxious to leave as quickly as possible.


Jade heard the door to the cell close, and waited for the familiar sound of the key turning to confirm their entombment. But to her surprise, this never came. The conversation between the two rival dominatrices still continued for a few seconds after departure, although the nature of their discussion was unclear, both due to the lengthening distance involved and the fact that the clicking of two sets of high heels on the metal floor drowned out the words and made listening conditions less than ideal. Soon the sounds faded into the ether, however, and the three swaying captives were once again left to their own, very limited, devices.

Once more, Jade started to pull on her tethering chain, this time with renewed vigour. For if her ears didn’t deceive her, and the door really hadn’t been secured, then there really was a chance, if she could pull the ring from the ceiling, that she could get away from this place and raise the alarm.

Whether her fellow inmates had perceived the implications of what had just transpired or not, she wasn’t sure, but with her optimism now higher than at any time since her arrival here, Jade set about the task in hand with her confidence batteries recharged, which resulted in energy and strength levels being attained that she didn’t even know she possessed.

It must have taken an hour or so of exhausting labour, during which, on more occasions than she cared to remember, she was on the point of giving up. But each time that her faith in the project began to lapse, a sudden splintering sound from above, or a fresh shower of dust and debris, would galvanise her once more, revive her sagging spirits, and a fresh sense of expectation would arise within her.

Then came that glorious moment when her perseverance paid dividends. All of a sudden, after a burst of enthusiasm that had seen her pull down with all her weight on the stubbornly resistant shackle, there came from above a sudden crashing sound that could only by likened to a bolt of thunder resonating around the room, which coincided with the chain instantaneously loosening.

The downside of all this commotion, was that the sudden slackening of her tether saw her fall helplessly forwards, and with no hands to protect her, within a split second Jade’s head hit the floor and a flash of blinding light preceded, by a fraction of a second, a searing pain in her left temple. The last thing she recalled, before unconsciousness overwhelmed her, was a shower of falling rubble cascading around her ears, which corresponded with the stymied screams from one or other – or possibly both - of her fellow captives. Then an empty blackness took control of her senses.


Amber’s torch beam picked out the metal flight of stairs up ahead which would take both Hazel and herself down to ground level. From behind her, she could see the light from Hazel’s torch as it wended its way from side to side and up and down, as if her visitor was gazing around into the cavernous darkened space, where landings, stairs and cell doors abounded at various levels above them. Hazel had been talking constantly, it seemed, since they’d left Lauren and the twins, and from the sound of her voice, Amber was able to gauge just how far behind she was. And at the moment, it seemed she was keeping a distance of a few yards, which put Amber more at ease with regard to the likelihood of a sudden ambush.

“There’s something I don’t understand Amber. I can’t figure out why you bothered to involve me in this little money-making scheme of yours. After all, we don’t exactly regard ourselves as friends, do we? Why didn’t you just sell the three of them on yourself? That way you’d have got a much higher price for them.”

Amber replied that she simply didn’t have the contacts in the slave trade that Hazel had, and wouldn’t have known how to go about finding a suitable buyer. This seemed to appease Hazel momentarily, and for a few seconds she fell silent. But as they approached the top of the stairs, she began again, and much to Amber’s amazement, her first utterance was of a complimentary nature.

“You know Amber, I have to admire the way you had the three of them all tied up in the video you sent me. I didn’t realise that you’d perfected the art of Oriental bondage to such an extent...”

At this point Hazel paused for a brief second. When she spoke again, however, Amber realised that the gap between them had shortened considerably.

“...But I’m guessing that there’s one Japanese art that you haven’t yet mastered.”

Their route to the stairs involved a sharp turn to the left, and Amber had been focusing on maintaining her footing as they negotiated this change of direction in the darkness. She had thus been momentarily sidetracked. At this cryptic remark, however, she turned to face her opponent. But it was too late.

As she swung her torso around, she was just in time to witness Hazel’s boot shooting towards her at great speed. A fleeting second later, Amber felt a sharp pain suddenly erupt in her solar plexus, as the expertly administered kick hit home. Doubling up in pain, she dropped her torch and fell to her knees. If she’d been perplexed as to what Hazel was alluding to, it was crystal clear now that she was referring to karate, or some similar martial art.

But indentifying the exact discipline or technique used was the least of her worries at present, for in an instant Hazel had circled her disorientated victim and had her arm around her neck. Using her carotid artery and the adjacent vagus nerve as a pressure point, Hazel slowly squeezed. Amber found herself becoming dizzy as the oxygen supply to her brain decreased, and within no more than a few seconds she felt her eyes roll upwards, as unconsciousness overcame her.


When she came to, Amber’s initially confused eyes gazed into a brilliant beam of light that seemed to stem from a source only a few feet from where she lay. As her senses slowly recovered, she realised that this was the torch which she’d let slip from her grasp during Hazel’s attack. But where was her assailant now?

Making an effort to sit up, Amber found that her wrists and ankles failed to respond to the commands her brain sent them. And worse than that, these attempts to move corresponded with sharp pains shooting through her limbs, as the reason for her restricted capabilities became obvious. The ligatures, as she tested their efficiency, felt like thin strips of some unbreakable substance that encircled the narrowest part of her arms and legs, and had been pulled so tight as to dig deeply into her flesh, even through the semi-protective layer of her latex cat-suit. Amber was instantly familiar with the nature of her bonds, as she’d used disposable plastic handcuffs on several of her willing - and one or two not so willing - clients in the past. She also knew that, judging by the severity with which Hazel had secured these tortuous bonds, she would not be escaping their grasp any time soon.

Swinging her legs awkwardly around so that they were directly in the light, Amber saw that a tourniquet-tight cable-tie surrounded each ankle, which had been intertwined with its counterpart to ensure that she couldn’t part her legs. And although she couldn’t view her wrist bonds, she was certain that a similar procedure had been put in place to keep her hands firmly trapped behind her back. Amber dragged her body towards the wall of the corridor and did her best to get to her feet. She cursed under her breath as this took more effort than she’d imagined.

She cursed, too, the evil bitch who had done this to her. But the main target for her anger was herself; how could she have been so stupid as to drop her guard and allow Hazel to get the better of her? Especially when the danger was all too apparent, and she’d been meticulously putting in place measures to avert just this sort of nightmare occurring ever since she’d dreamt up this whole scheme.

The sound of high heels on the metal walkway brought her mind back to the present, and answered her initial query as to where Hazel had gone. At first she could only see a dancing beam of light coming slowly towards her from the direction of the sound, but after a few seconds the blurry image sharpened into the shape of her nemesis. Hazel was smiling a broad, cat-that-got-the-cream smile, and Amber noticed that she carried a holdall bag with her, which she instantly recognised as her own. It was the one she kept her ropes, handcuffs and all the other ‘tools of the trade’ that any dominatrix worth her salt would carry at all times. And there were no prizes for guessing the objective which Hazel now had in mind in relation to the utilisation of the contents.

Leaning with her back to the wall, Amber shied away from the oncoming figure. She knew that one of the few choices she had left now was to either plead for her freedom, or else demand it. As someone not wishing to sound like some pathetic little submissive, which would have anyway been totally against her nature, she decided to take the latter option.

“Let me go right now you evil bitch! I’ll kill you when I get out of this!”

Hazel’s smile, if anything, became even broader as she placed the torch strategically so it lit up the area of wall against which her helpless rival stood, before sidling right up beside her.

“Well firstly Amber, let me just say that calling me names and making demands like that will get you absolutely nowhere...”

She opened the holdall and fumbled around for something unseen within.

“...And secondly, you may have designs on doing me harm, but getting out of your bonds is - as I’m sure you’re already aware - never going to happen.”

Amber, however, was into her stride now, and screamed into the empty void.


Unfortunately for her, however, Hazel had by now located the items she had been searching for, and had clearly decided to put an end to Amber’s verbal tirade. Placing the bag on the floor by her victim’s feet, she quickly stuffed the already prepared rolled up pair of tights into the mouth of her arch-enemy. For her part, Amber did her best to hinder the process, but she was no match for her experienced opponent, who pushed her head back until it slammed painfully into the wall, then forced the ball of hosiery deeply into the cavity behind her teeth.

Amber tried to repeat her previously screamed insult, or something of a similar nature, but her words were now lost in the sound-muffling fabric. But it was immediately obvious that this was only the first part of the projected gagging process. For once the tights were firmly in place, Hazel began peeling away the end of a large reel of duct tape, which she quickly began using to seal Amber’s lips by winding circuit after circuit around the now severely vocally hampered woman’s head.

“There, maybe that will stop all that obnoxious screaming and shouting. The sooner you realise that your situation is hopeless, the easier things will get for you.”

‘Easier’, it soon became apparent, was a relative term, as it soon transpired that Hazel had every intention of making Amber’s evening a hellish one; whether she acted up or played the model prisoner seeming to have no bearing on the overall outcome.

Picking up the torch and slinging the holdall over her shoulder, with her free hand Hazel grabbed Amber by the arm and began propelling her along the landing. With her ankles bound, Amber was forced to move in short jumping motions in order to keep up with the pace that her captor set, and with the hindrance of the gag, she soon became breathless. Hazel failed to notice this, however, or if she did perceive it, she obviously viewed it as an irrelevance. Instead she took great pleasure in explaining the fate that awaited her helpless hostage for the foreseeable future.

“While you were out cold, I took the liberty of having a look at the renovations you’ve made to the place. I have to admit that I’m impressed. If I wasn’t going abroad shortly, I’d definitely stay around to make use of the facilities. But I’m digressing here. The point is that as I perused the various cells that you’ve fitted out, I came across the perfect place for you to spend the interim period until I sell you on to your new owner.”

By now they’d reached a door which stood wide open. And it was through this dark, uninviting chasm that Hazel steered her unwilling detainee. Amber knew, of course, what awaited anyone unlucky enough to be confined in each individual cell along this landing, so it was no surprise to witness the metal coffin which Jade had tested for her earlier in the week. Now, though, the box lay empty with its lid discarded to one side.

Amber was aware that, once inside this claustrophobic sarcophagus, there would be no getting out again, and this grim realisation caused panic to set in and she found herself lapsing inadvertently into begging mode; a state she had been so determined to avoid earlier, but one which she now found herself unable to keep from welling up inside her. This cut no ice with the emotionless Hazel of course. And it soon transpired that the now indisputable winner of this battle to become queen bee of this particular hive had a few other pre-planned atrocities in mind to inflict on her cowering subject.

Pushing her bound and gagged rival to the floor, Hazel wasted no time in using as many items from the holdall’s stash as she could, to leave Amber in no doubt that she wouldn’t be going anywhere in the near future. Working with an expertise that spoke of years of practice, Hazel soon supplemented the cable-ties with ropes and duct tape, to ensure Amber’s wrists and lower arms were triply bound in her own bondage equipment. Her legs were soon to suffer almost identical cruelties, and further ropes and tape wrapped around her body and arms ensured that they remained as one inseparable unit.

And then it was time for the leather hood to make an appearance. Now tied from shoulder to wrist and from thigh to ankle, Amber wriggled nervously and whimpered into her gag as the snugly fitting headgear was placed over her skull and eased downwards until it reached her throat. The lacing at the back having been pulled taut, coupled with the straps at the neck being buckled securely, guaranteed that the tiny holes in the facial area stayed aligned with the wearer’s nostrils. The ability to breathe was thus assured, although this was the only small crumb of comfort available to the now completely subdued former dominatrix, as she lay in an inescapable web of her own bondage materials.

And then came the moment that Amber had been dreading even more than any of the preceding affronts to her liberty. Without warning, the now sightless female felt a hand being inserted under each armpit, and she found herself being dragged the few feet across to the spot where the coffin awaited her. For a minute or two, Hazel seemed to struggle to get the bound deadweight into position, but after much manoeuvring and manipulating, prodding and pushing, Amber found herself laying face down in the soft cushioning layer that formed the metal crate’s interior. The sound of the lid slamming into place had a finality about it that caused an involuntary scream to issue through the gag and its double layered covering of tape and leather. But if Hazel heard this, she paid it no heed; simply fixing the bolts in place to ensure that the internee remained within. Only after finishing this task, did Hazel once more deem it necessary to address her now totally vanquished enemy.

“There you go Amber. It shouldn’t be more than a day or two before I get the deal sorted that will see you taken off my hands once and for all. It occurs to me that we’re back to where we were all those months ago, when I had the four of you all safely locked up and ready for shipping out. This time though, that Steve character isn’t going to be around to save his beloved Lauren. This time, I’m going to triumph...”

As the muted sound of departing high heels filtered through the lagging of the box and the padding which covered her ears, Hazel’s last utterance before she shut the cell door sent a chill coursing through Amber’s trussed and tethered being.

“...And you’ll be out of my life for good.”


Briefly, Hazel contemplated going back to tell her three other prisoners the good news about their change of ownership. But then she decided that this revelation could wait until the morning. She’d had, she decided, enough excitement for one day. And after all, Lauren would still be there in the morning to torture and abuse. It would give her something to look forward to.

But first she had to get out of the building. Rummaging through Amber’s discarded shoulder bag, she came upon several key-rings, holding an abundance of keys of all different shapes and sizes. Luckily Amber had them grouped together, like with like; car keys on one bunch, keys to the building and cell doors on another, a set for the gate chain padlocks, and a bunch of intricate keys to the various handcuffs, shackles and other metal restraints.

Swiftly negotiating the corridors that led back to the exit, Hazel was careful to ensure that the outer doors to the building were securely locked and bolted upon departure. She knew that the odds of anyone getting in were several million to one, but caution was a routine she’d cultivated over the course of many years, and she saw no reason to change the habits of a lifetime now.

Commandeering Amber’s car, she drove down to the compound’s gates and opened them, before making her exit back into the outside world. As she did so, she briefly thought she glimpsed a fleeting black shadow moving away to her right, near to the still open gate. What could that have been? She dismissed it as a trick of the light caused by the beams from the still moving car. Swiftly, she climbed out and resealed the gates before motoring off into the night. Now she could relax for a few hours; find a herself a hotel and maybe celebrate with a bottle of wine, before getting a good night’s sleep. Then tomorrow she’d begin to set the wheels in motion that would see her getting rich from the sale of her cargo, before slipping out of the country to begin a new life in the sun.


Steve sat in his car in the lay-by, contemplating his next move. As the evening wore on, fewer and fewer vehicles flashed past, and soon the road was all but deserted. He’d manoeuvred his car around so that he was now facing towards the gates through which all comings and goings, by necessity, had to take place. Through the heavy steel rails that made up the sealed entranceway, he’d earlier noted that Amber’s car had been visible. And from this he deduced that, if anyone was to leave in a vehicle after dark, then their headlights approaching the exit would give advanced warning of this activity, and give him a few seconds – probably no more than thirty, at most – to get into place for his planned rescue mission.

And for this exercise to work, he needed to be as near to invisible as possible. But how was that viable dressed as he was? Steve looked at his clothes; light blue jeans, white t-shirt and denim jacket. None of which was particularly efficient as night-time camouflage. What he needed was to be attired in something much darker... black, if possible. Luckily, he had just the thing with him.

Why the black spandex cat-suit of Lauren’s was stashed in the glove compartment, he couldn’t actually recall. But he remembered seeing it there the other day, and knew at once that this was his best bet if he wanted to blend in with his surroundings. Getting changed in the cramped space of the car’s interior was a challenge, especially as he was trying to get undressed then dressed again in record time, just in case Amber and Hazel decided to choose this moment to leave.

Finally, after what seemed like several minutes but was probably no more than two, he found himself kitted out in his girlfriend’s figure hugging outfit, which clung to every inch of his body. Putting his trainers back on – fortunately, he was wearing his black pair – he laced these up and stared back at the gate. No light shone from within, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Up to now, he had been careful to ensure that the car’s interior remained in darkness, so as not to alert anyone to his presence. But now he flicked the interior overhead light on briefly to check his watch. It was nearly ten past six. Amber and Hazel had been inside for two hours or so now, and he was beginning to wonder whether coming back in daylight might be a better option. After all it was cold, and there was no guarantee that once inside the gates he would be able to gain access to the building. Maybe coming back tomorrow would be more productive.

But no, the thought of his Lauren in grave danger ensured that the idea of leaving was quickly jettisoned. And just as he determined in his own mind that his vigil must endure, he noticed a faint glow from the gated area of the walled fortress. Was this a trick that his eyes were playing on him? Or maybe the beam from an approaching car illuminating the road ahead? No, it definitely emanated from the other side of those gates. And as he watched, it was slowly getting brighter.

Wasting no time, Steve jumped from his vehicle and shut the door as quietly as he possibly could. The freezing air made him gasp, and he appreciated now just how little protection from the cold a single layer of spandex provided. But it was too late to worry about trivial things like hypothermia. Sprinting the fifty yards or so back towards the source of the light, he was just able to conceal his presence in the shadows of the high wall prior to the commencement of the clanking of chains, which gave away the fact that someone was unlocking the gate prior to leaving.

Still unsure of his exact objective, Steve watched as the heavy gates were slowly pulled open. Then a car door slamming was followed by the revving of an engine, and a second or two elapsed before Amber’s car emerged into his view. Except it wasn’t Amber that was driving now, but Hazel. And she appeared to be alone. Steve didn’t have time for his brain to process the implications inherent in this data just at the moment, however. Even as the rear end of the car was emerging past the ancient, rusted railings, he was edging his way along the wall, and had crossed the threshold of the former Government-owned premises.

Luckily, for some reason Hazel seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, giving him the time to slip inside and shelter once more in the black shadows that cast their shapes all around. But had he been spotted? Not daring to breathe for several seconds, he heard Hazel alight once more and her heels crunch harshly on the gravel. For a few seconds, the long leather coat, together with the skin-tight latex on the lower legs of her cat-suit, glinted red in the glow of the car’s tail-lights, as she struggled to pull the gates shut. But then she was lost from sight again, and the clanking of the chains once more echoed around the stone courtyard as she sealed the only exit. And then she was gone; the ever dimming lights dissipating several seconds before the slowly receding thrum of the engine finally died down to nothingness. And once again silence reigned.

Taking the small flashlight that he fortuitously always carried in his car, Steve approached the now barred exit and rattled the gates. The beam from the torch showed why they refused to open; heavy chains having been used to conjoin the two halves of the railings together, held in place by enormous padlocks that would take industrial strength cutting equipment to break open.

So he was locked in. But getting out seemed the least of his concerns right now. His number one priority was to find a way into the building, but there were also other thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. Amber’s absence for a start. Unless Hazel had her tied up in the recently departed car’s boot, then she must still be on the premises. Was she here of her own volition, standing sentinel to ensure Lauren didn’t escape? Or was Hazel’s solo exit evidence of a more sinister scenario, namely that she had in some way subjugated her old rival, and that Amber, too, was now a prisoner in this vast Victorian-era penal establishment?

With these thoughts, and a hundred others besides, circling in his brain, Steve made his way towards the dark, uninviting edifice which – he hoped – held the key to the mystery of Lauren’s disappearance.

Story to be continued in part eleven

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