The Chateau

by Budman

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© Copyright 2023 - Budman - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; M+F+/f; mpov; bond; cuffs; hum; enema; group; chain; rope; dungeon; cell; naked; blindfold; hood; gag; straps; objectify; cons; XX

Continues from

Author’s Note: As with most of my stories, you will get very lost if you don’t read this story from . I encourage you to go back and take the chapters in order if you aren’t already.

Chapter 5 – A Bondage Orgy Preparation

Now that I was largely caught up on the events in the cellar by watching the camera feeds, I closed the tablet and went to find Paula. I found her in the kitchen chopping ingredients to go make a salad to go with the steaks.

“Ever played with hoods?” I asked, unpacking the stuff I bought at the bondage store.

“Yeah,” she answered, “but my local dungeon in London didn’t have one that nice. That looks custom made.”

As Paula admired the hood, its attachable blindfold and 3-inch penis gag, I also pulled out the leg irons, belly chain and connecting chains.

“I’m sure you know what to do with these?” I asked.

“Hmmm, are we going to use the connecting chain or the belly chain?” She asked.

“Why not both.” I smiled.

“I was thinking,” I offered, “we should plan to start cooking steaks around 6 pm. When you finish that wonderful looking salad, would you please go down and chain our guest of honor. You might take someone with you because she’s going to have a lot of trouble navigating the stairs with these short leg irons. Lead her upstairs and put her back against one of those columns between the living room and dining room. Use a hank of rope to tie her to the post. Meantime, I’ll go start the charcoal and salt the steaks and let everyone know dinner and an orgy will start about 6:15.”

“Mal asked,” Paula said, “if we were going to give her an enema, you know, to make it less messy for the guys if they take her ass?”

“Shit,” I said a bit frustrated, “that would be a great idea, but I didn’t think to buy an enema kit.”

“Well, I have one.” Paula admitted.

“Really?” I questioned, “just how much stuff did you carry in your saddle bags? Makeup and now an enema kit?”

“Let’s just say I get way too many yeast infections and I have a dual-purpose douche and enema kit to keep the cunt clean.” Paula said looking embarrassed.

Paula took Carl with her and when they reached the wine cellar Heather was just sitting cross legged on her mattress smiling, no doubt fantasizing about the coming orgasm she had been promised. I was busy getting the grill ready, but I watched later on the security camera recording.

Paula: “Well slut, are you ready to dress for your big night?”

Carl: “I heard she wasn’t talking to anyone; I would think she didn’t want to get laid except for that huge smile.”

Paula: “Yea, she’s being a real little bitch!” Of course, Paula knew the reason Heather wasn’t talking but she was becoming as interested as I was in the effect Heather’s silence was having on Carl and the others.

Heather sat there quietly, as I had instructed her, terrified that if she even nodded, she would lose her chance at an orgasm. But her silence was having just the effect I expected, Carl was irritated.

Carl: “On your knees, here on the floor slut!” he said, following Paula’s lead in calling her slut.

Heather might not be talking, but she obeyed. As she moved, her eyes were glued to the enema kit Paula pulled out of her bag. Paula squirted a bit of dish soap into the vinyl bag then filled it with a full two quarts at the sink.

“Cold water enemas suck, but I was too lazy to bother with heating water just to clean out a whore.” Paula laughed as she screwed the cap on the bag.

Paula didn’t think to bring lube with her but that was OK because Heather’s cunt was dripping. As I watched the video, Paula stuck the nozzle in and out of Heather’s cunt several times then unceremoniously stuck it deep in her ass. She hung the bag on the iron gate and opened the valve about halfway.

Heather started moaning almost immediately. That cold water was draining into her quickly and the cramps started immediately.

Paula: “Stay in position slut! or we’ll use these leg irons to chain your ass up on the bars.”

It looked like Heather was doing her best to stay kneeling, but the intense cramps were hitting her every 10 or 15 seconds and her groans and whines were delicious.

Once the bag was empty, Paula waited about five more minutes. Carl had a huge erection and Paula was tempted to make Heather suck him off before she let her void her bowels but a) Carl needed to save it for the orgy and b) Heather probably couldn’t have held it, which would have resulted in a huge mess. So, Paula just stroked him through his shorts and winked at him. Carl returned the favor, fingering Paula through her sundress while they watched Heather suffer.

Paula: “You can go!” The three words weren’t completely out of Paula’s mouth before Heather was moving towards her camping toilet. The sounds that came out of her ass as water, air and shit exploded caused her to turn bright red.

Guys love bathroom humor, Carl doubled over laughing, which further embarrassed Heather.

After a few minutes Paula said, “Let’s go, again!” and she pointed to the floor, “NOW!”

Heather scrambled to get into position and Paula filled the bag again, this time without soap.

The second enema must have been worse than the first. Heather was sobbing between cramps. After the bag was empty, Paula made her stand and bounce up and down. “Mix it up slut, rinse those guts, because we’re going to do this until you run completely clear. So, the longer you hold it in and the more you slosh it around, the less of these you’ll have to take. Heather did her best, but the cramps caused her to double over every time she started bouncing.

“You can go whenever you want slut, just remember, the longer you hold it... “ Paula reminded her.

But Heather was on the camp toilet before Paula could finish the sentence.

Paula: “Not clear enough, get in position.”

You could see in Heather’s face that she wanted to beg, wanted to plead with Paula not to fill the whole bag, to use warm water, to let it in slower, to be merciful. But Heather stayed quiet, and Paula stuck the tube in her again.

After Paula told her “times up.” She actually held the water a few minutes longer, then waddled to the toilet.

“Third time’s the charm cunt!” Carl said as he looked at the clear liquid in the toilet.

As she looked up from the toilet, Heather noticed the chains Carl was holding. Heather had never worn chains like these, and her emotions ran the gamut from thrilled, curious all the way to terrified.

Paula: “Make sure you pee while you’re sitting there slut, you won’t have another chance for a while.”

She gave her a minute to make sure she was done.

Carl: “Stand up, hands in front.” And Carl applied the leather cuffs I had bought to Heather’s wrists. He then wrapped the collar around her throat and the ankle cuffs to her legs. The transport chain had a Y at one end and using one of the eight keyed-alike padlocks I had purchased he locked each end of the Y to an ankle cuff. Next, Carl carefully measured the chain, having Heather bend at the waist slightly and then padlocked the other end of the transport chain to her collar. Heather could ALMOST stand up straight. Even with her ankles close together, she had to slightly bend her knees or at the waist. If she wanted to spread her ankles, because of the way the Y pulled down, she would have to bend over more.

Carl finished by wrapping the belly chain around Heather’s waist, pulling it REALLY tight and using a sixth padlock to lock the belly chain around the transport chain and both leather wrists cuffs to the belly chain. Heather’s wrists were now tightly held in front at waist level. Because the transport chain’s Y only allowed about 18 inches between her ankles (and that only if she bent at the waist), walking would be slow measured steps. And climbing the stairs was going to be interesting.

Since Heather still wasn’t talkative, Carl didn’t say anything either. He just pocketed the keys to the padlocks and stepped back to allow Paula access. Paula took one of the shanks of rope I had bought and tied one end to Heather’s collar padlock. She then started pulling Heather towards the stairs, indicating that Carl should stay behind her to steady and catch her if she should fall.

Walking in transport chains was a whole new experience for Heather. It took her most of the way across the cellar to even begin to figure it out. She had to bend at the waist to get enough slack in her ankle chains to take a short step. Bending at the waist with hands cuffed close to the belly throws off the balance. Paula wasn’t taking it slow, forcing Heather to take very short measured but fast steps to keep up. It also didn’t help that Heather’s bowels were still cramping slightly.

At the steps it was a whole new challenge. First, she heard Paula start to climb the steps then she hit her ankle on the bottom step. Heather discovered that the only way she could get even half her foot on the next step up was to go up on tip toe on the lower foot. It took her a few tries and several steps before she found a rhythm. Paula was, thankful, patient with her on the steps, Carl less so. He was really enjoying the sight of Heather’s ass, going up the steps in front of him. He couldn’t resist giving it a hard smack every time she stepped back down to reposition her feet or try again.

It took a while, but they finally reached the main floor. Paula led Heather by her makeshift leash towards the dining room. Heather remembered enough about the layout of the house to know where they were headed. Paula kept dragging her forward.

As they entered the long living / dining room all eyes turned to Heather. Living in primitive conditions, riding their bikes from place to place, the women of the group had long ago given up much grooming. They lived in either bike shorts and stretch tops, blue jeans, and t-shirts, or more often, comfortable one-piece sun dresses that were easy to wash and cool to wear in the Mediterranean climate. Only Paula, Reese and Maggie had even brought makeup and very little of that. Hair care consisted of running a brush through their hair every day or so. It had been so long since Maggie had dyed her hair that several inches of brown roots could be seen under the purple. The guys weren’t much different. And since washing, clothes, or bodies, involved heating water, that hadn’t happened too often either.

Into this crowd walked Heather. Her skin was clean, soft, and almost shining behind her chains. Her hair wasn’t too long, but it was pulled back in a cute ponytail. Her makeup was slutty, but perfect. More than that, watching her walk, nude, in her chains, slightly bent over so her ass stuck out and swayed, was better than watching a runway model in lingerie.

The guys noticed. A few of the women noticed.

All the women noticed the guys noticing.

“Looking HOT slut!” Mal called out, which started a general chorus.

“Wiggle that butt girl.”

“I’m looking forward to having me some of that chained cunt.”

“You look beautiful Heather!” Carl said, which prompted a different chorus of “Ooooo.” And “Carl’s got a girlfriend.” And “You can fuck her anyway Carl, you don’t need to flatter whores.” To which Carl turned red.

The women just stared at the guys acting like middle schoolers. But it’s funny, in the coming days, it was obvious the women were making more of an effort to look attractive. But then Maggie, of all people, decided to join in. “It's too bad the girl sucks at giving head, pun intended.”

Reese added, “I’d have thought with as little as we’re feeding her that she would have lost that pot belly,” Heather just had a cute little pooch, but Reese must have known she was sensitive about it.

“Hea, if she loses too much fat, she won’t have any tits at all.” Paula added, and that WAS true, Heather was barely a B cup, but she had very prominent nipples that, in my opinion, were very suckable. Paula just kept pulling Heather forward with the rope leash.

When they got into the dining room, Carl roughly pushed Heather back against one of the two large ornate posts framing the opening between the living room and the dining room and pinned her there with his body. I guess he was still embarrassed at getting teased about being nice to Heather and took it out on her. Paula then wrapped Heather’s rope leash around the post and her neck several times, tying it off so Heather had to stand, naked and chained, against the post. The length of the transport chain between her ankles and her collar meant that she had to stick her ass out to the side slightly, which would become more and more uncomfortable over the next hour. Paula then pulled Heather’s ponytail out to the side, looked into her eyes to make sure she was OK, then kissed her on the cheek.

While Paula and Carl were getting our slut ready, I had the steaks and corn-on-the-cob on the grill. It was an interesting setting as the group began to gather and ‘set’ the dining room table. The guys had salvaged and repaired three old sawhorses from a shed on the property. They had topped this with one of the sheets of plywood that had been used to board up the windows and doors before the squatters took over. There were no real chairs, but camping chairs or kitchen chairs were brought into this once elegant room. There was also another piece of plywood that they had prepared, propped up against the wall, but I’ll get to that piece later.

The table was ‘set’ with some flowers the women had picked from the side of the trail to the beach. Everyone brought their own water bottles and camping plates and utensils. Paula served the salad in one of the large pots in the kitchen. The butter and other condiments were served in their grocery store containers. In spite of the meager setting, the mood was festive, almost giddy. It wasn’t that the group was sex starved, well, except for Heather. They fucked, sucked, and licked whenever they felt like it. But something about having real meat for a change, followed by an orgy where they got to play with Heather, had everyone in an exceptionally good mood.

I had intentionally asked Carl, who seemed to be the keeper of the stash, to only pass around a couple of joints. I also bought some cheap bottles of wine. But I wanted the group high on sex and sadism, not chemicals.

The steaks had a few more minutes on the grill and the aroma was drifting through the dining room, making everyone hungry. As the group gathered, they chatted about their day, how good the food smelled and never said a word about or acknowledged the blindfolded, naked, chained slut tied to the pole. But I did notice several people walk by and pinch one of Heather’s nipples. For a while, Tim stood beside Heather while he chatted about their day with Maggie and Mal. The whole time he stood there he was fingering Heather and occasionally he would put his fingers in his mouth and suck Heather’s juices, then go right back to fingering her. Heather, as one would expect, was having a hard time standing still.

“OK, everyone,” I announced, “bring your plates and come get a steak and corn, I don’t have a serving platter.”

It was a wonderful dinner. The steaks were huge, more than most of us were going to eat. The wine bottles were passed around. The joints were passed around, The Steaks were perfect. The company, conversation and atmosphere were entertaining. I cut a piece of steak and took it on the end of my fork to Maggie. I kissed her then put the morsel in her mouth. While she was chewing it greedily, I took one of the clothes pins I had bought earlier and clipped it onto the meatiest part of her right nipple. Blindfolded, she hadn’t seen that coming and she almost choked on the meat. Then I went back, sat down, and continued to eat my dinner.

The group quickly got the idea when I passed the box of clothes pins around. At random times, various people got up, took a fork full of salad, or their corn-on-the-cob or a bite sized piece of steak and hand fed Heather. Paula, bless her heart, even thought of giving Heather some wine. By the third feeding, she clearly understood that each morsel of food came with a price. You could see her tense up as each item touched her lips.

It didn’t help Heather’s cause that she was doing this little sexy dance. I don’t think she realized she was doing it, or the effect it was having on the room, since she was blindfolded and in her own little subspace. The rope tying Heather to the column wasn’t that tight, it would let her move her neck up and down the pole several inches, although she couldn’t sit down. But the transport chain from her collar to her ankles was about 2 inches too short for Heather to completely stand up straight. That seems minor, but Heather had to keep her knees just slightly bent or she had to push her hips out to the right or the left a bit.

Muscles get tired when they have to hold the body in a position. Heather didn’t realize it, but as she shifted position to relax tired muscles, she was doing this subtle, very slow-motion pole dance. Eyes, both the men and the women, kept glancing up to watch her. I’m not sure everyone understood exactly why Heather was writhing at her pole, several of the group just thought she was such as slut in need that she couldn’t stay still. Because of these opinions, more than a few of the clothespins were placed in extra tender places, like Heather’s neck right at the bend of the shoulder, or an ear lobe.

I didn’t want to leave the clothes pins on too long. Everyone had a turn, and several people fed her more than once. I counted 12 pins on her breast and one on her big toe (that was Mal). I got up, fed her some salad then took OFF the clothespin I had first put on her nipple. She winced, but when I grabbed it with my lips and sucked on it, she squirmed and nearly spit out the salad.

The group quickly got this idea too and by the time everyone had finished with dinner all the clothespins were gone and Heather had eaten enough to sustain her through her coming ordeal.

“Time to clear the table and get comfortable,” I suggested. “Tim, would you and Cradic swap out the plywood? Heather and Reese, would you gather the sleeping bags from the sleeping room, put a couple up on the plywood and spread the rest around the room.”

The guys had moved the ‘dining table’ plywood which was a full sheet and placed it against the wall. They had replaced it with one that was much smaller, only 2 feet wide by almost 4 feet long. There was only room for two of the sawhorses under it.

I realized Paula had finished taking dishes to the kitchen. “Paula,” I asked, “would you help me put the hood on Heather?”

Paula started opening the hood and loosening the laces up the back. Heather watched this process with growing dread. This was her first sight of the hood. She wasn’t claustrophobic, that she knew of, but she had never worn a hood before. This one was heavy leather, black, and quite imposing. She was having to fight off panic as Paula pulled the hood over her head and pulled her ponytail through the top of the laces.

It wasn’t as bad as Heather was expecting. Paula centered the eye holes, the nose and mouth opening so Heather could see and breathe. And Heather did have to admit that the new leather smelled wonderful. Paula started lacing the hood, pulling the laces tight from top to bottom. Once she got to the bottom, she tied a temporary bow and then started back at the top tightening each row of laces again. Now the hood was starting to squeeze Heather’s head uniformly, not uncomfortable, but it would be impossible to ignore.

But then, after she re-tied the laces, she picked up the eye panel. This leather oval snapped over the eyes, had foam pads that resulted in complete darkness. Paula snapped one side down but before she could snap the other side Heather lost it. She started shaking her head, pulling at the rope holding her to the column, trying to keep Paula from blinding her.

Paula shouted, “Heather, get a hold of yourself!” And Heather stopped fighting but looked panicked.

“You can handle this,” Paula said calmly, “it’s just a blindfold. We’re not going to gag you right now, just the blindfold. If you don’t cooperate, you’re going to lose the privilege of an orgasm.”

That seemed to calm Heather down and she started to take deep breaths. Paula noticed, in spite of the panic, Heather hadn’t said a word.

Paula, stroking her arm: “It’s OK baby, you can do this, just focus on how much you want to cum!” And Paula snapped the other side of the blindfold in place.

Carl looked at Paula from across the room with a mixture of lust and concern. I’m sure he was feeling conflicted. Carl was already naked, and I could see he was sporting a huge erection. He was getting turned on by the power and the bondage. But he also considered himself the leader of the group and he had never seen a woman react this violently.

Paula smiled at him and winked, mouthing “it’s ok.” She picked up the gag and buckled one side of it to the hood. “We’ll leave the gag out for a minute until you calm down, slut, but you will have to deal with it in a few minutes.”

Heather had to focus on hearing what Paula was saying. For one thing she was dropping into subspace, zoning out into her own little world of darkness and the helplessness of chains. On the other hand, the hood muffled all sounds.

I arranged three open sleeping bags as a kind of pad on the plywood. Then I retrieved the 2-inch tie down straps from a bag against the wall.

“Paula, would you get the lube and condoms? I also put a bag of stuff in the ice chest, you’ll know it when you see it,” I asked. When Paula looked at Heather, telling me with her eyes that she didn’t want to leave her, I tapped Maggie on the shoulder, “Stand by Heather’s head and touch her, just to keep her calm, OK?”

After I had the smaller plywood table arranged the way I wanted it, I walked over to Heather, and without warning, touched her lips. Heather thought I had one more morsel of food for her and opened her mouth. I stuffed the penis gag that had Paula left hanging half on her hood, into her mouth and secured it. That gag was designed to push that silicone penis right to the edge of the gag reflex. Heather started to panic again; I don’t think she had ever worn a gag like this.

“Calm. It’s not going to choke you. Calm. You have to handle it because it’s not coming out,” I said quietly near her ear. I held my hand on her arm until she calmed down a bit.

Maggie was standing beside me, watching Heather intently, making sure she wasn’t going to throw up inside that hood. Several people were already laying on the sleeping bags and starting to make out. Paula and I were the only ones still fully dressed, most of the others had at least stripped off their various clothing. I hated to interrupt them, but I needed help getting Heather situated.

“Hea, I hate to interrupt, but before things get too hot and heavy, let’s get our guest of honor situated,” I said.

Carl, Mal, Cradic and Tim all went to Heather and, after untying her from the column, led her to the plywood.

“On her back,” I instructed as I moved to position her head. All four guys picked up a limb and manhandled Heather onto the plywood. I made sure her shoulders were supported and that the sleeping bags cushioned her neck but made sure her head was completely off the plywood. Moving around to the other end, part of her ass was supported and cushioned by sleeping bags.

Mal and I pulled her ankles back, I unlocked the transport chain from her neck, pulled it out from under her belly chain and then relocked it to her collar. I shortened it until her knees were pulled back at about a 45-degree angle, almost putting her in a ball tie. She couldn’t spread her legs much due to the leg shackles, but she was still very exposed. Her hands were still trapped against her belly by the handcuffs and belly chain.

Handing out the cargo straps, I instructed the guys to put one across her shoulders, one across her body about her elbows, and one across her waist under her hands. The straps were run under the plywood and ratchet tight so Heather couldn’t move. I’m sure Heather wasn’t comfortable, she couldn’t exactly tell me since the penis gag was still in her mouth, but I was reasonably certain she could stay in this position for quite a while. Her back was cushioned by the sleeping bags, and the straps were wide enough to not cut circulation. If there was a problem, it would be her neck. I would have to keep an eye on that.

Paula came out of the kitchen with a couple of plastic grocery bags which she proceeded to tear open and push under Heather’s ass and neck.

“What?” she said as I gave her a questioning look. “You know how much this slut gushes, even with the guys using condoms she’ll still soak our sleeping bags. We have to sleep in those bags tonight.”

“Good plan, mother Paula,” Carl said with a smile. Paula punched him in the shoulder playfully.

Now that we had Heather secured and available, I set out the rules: “There are no rules, except perhaps the condom rule. Ladies, feel free to take the gag out, stand over Heather’s head and let her lick you, especially after one of the guys has been in you. Also, that bag contains an unusually large strapon, one of those designed to sit right over your clit. You can pound her cunt or ass with that, or each other.

“Guys, you also can use her mouth, cunt, or ass. But if her mouth isn’t being used, put the gag back in. Remember, if you switch from ass to anywhere else, change condoms, even on the strapon. I think you all know but I want to remind you, due to the sluts unique plumbing system, and much to her frustration, she can’t cum without vaginal stimulation. No matter how turned on she is, she assures me that it takes considerable stimulation of her g-spot while she is stuffed full to get her off. So, let’s not give her that TOO early in the evening.”

That produced an audible moan from inside Heather’s gag that made everyone laugh.

“Oh, and let's leave the blindfold on and not tell her who we are or use each other’s names. With that hood on everything is muffled, so she’s not likely to recognize your voice, so let’s keep the slut guessing.”

“I’ve brought in some wood blocks,” I continued, “we can use them to adjust the height of either end of the plywood for optimum fucking height. It will take two or three of you to place or remove blocks so help each other out.”

I took the gag out of Heather’s mouth for a minute, then bent down next to her head to make sure she could hear clearly through the hood. “And Heather, I want you to open wide... wider.” I slid a wood block I had carefully measured and carved between Heather’s molars, making sure she couldn’t push it out. It was like the rubber blocks the dentists use to hold your mouth open. Heather started shaking her head and trying to push it with her tongue.

“I know that is very uncomfortable. Imagine wearing it for the next few hours. Imagine how you can’t swallow and the drool and snot running down your throat. Imagine a load of cum in your mouth and you can’t close, around it and swallow.” Then I reached in and took the block out. “Heather, if a single guy here complains about feeling your teeth, I will put the block back in.”

“And Ladies,” I added, “if she isn’t licking enthusiastically enough you might try pinching a nipple to get her attention, or just put the penis gag back in and then pinch her nose closed for a minute.”

Then I leaned in and whispered “Remember Heather, if you say a word before your first orgasm I’ll stop everyone from playing with you. We’ll still have our orgy, but you’ll lay here all night without being touched. Be a good girl Heather, quiet!” Then I put the gag back in.


Continues in

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