Ever Increasing Bondage 7

by Steve Spandex

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2015 - Steve Spandex - Used by permission

Storycodes: FF/ff; nylon; cocoon; encased; bond; gag; spandex; latex; ropes; cartrunk; transport; dungeon; wrap; tape; hood; sd; tease; torment; revenge; cons/nc; X

(story continues from )

Part 7

It seemed as if the world and everything in it had suddenly disappeared. Was this what it felt like to die? There had been a split second when the squeal of brakes had coincided with a swift slow down in the vehicle’s momentum... then nothing.

Well, perhaps not quite nothing.

The rain seemed to still be falling onto her face and spandex covered body and legs. And there was a soft whimpering sound from close by. There was no pain, but as she tentatively stretched her limbs, Lauren found that she was still unable to move. She was most definitely still in a state of very strict restraint, she concluded. So that meant that either she had died and gone to some sort of heaven for bondage addicts... or else she had somehow survived what seemed like an almost inevitable collision. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.  All that met her gaze was a sea of blackness.  For a second or two, she could make out nothing in what seemed like an endless dark void. But then she sensed this black whatever-it-was moving slightly.  As her eyes focused, it became apparent that the blackness wasn’t quite so all-encompassing as it had first appeared, but seemed to have a slight shine or shimmer to it; as if some source of light, however faint,  was bouncing off it. And then there was the smell; that familiar aroma of latex. Lauren cast her eyes upwards slightly, just as a low moan of anguish reached her ears from somewhere close at hand.

Then, suddenly, it all became clear to her. Miraculously, she wasn’t dead. In fact, she didn’t appear to have even been injured. The nature of the black vista that had first greeted her was shown to be Amber’s black cat-suit; Lauren’s eyes being no more than two inches away from her latex-clad thighs. Looking upwards, Lauren could see the overhanging branches of the tree, through which the leaden sky peeped and the rain continued to fall. Closer to home, the black fabric of Amber’s attire writhed and contorted in her ever more desperate attempt to free herself from a state of bondage that she had been encumbered in for the best part of twenty four hours; the soft squeak of latex against latex competing with the pattering of raindrops all around. From her head, a mess of dirty blonde hair swayed to and fro as she wrestled with her restraints.

The sound of car doors opening and almost immediately closing again preceded the appearance of the twins within Lauren’s line of vision. Jade crouched down and examined the gap between Lauren’s face and Amber’s legs.

“That was a bit too close for comfort Jas. You cut it a bit fine there.”

She turned to the women chained and strapped horizontally across the front of the Land Rover.

“Sorry about that Lauren, but we needed to show you what an evil bitch our cousin can be. You tried to help her, and how does she repay you?”

She paused for a second, before answering her own question.

“She puts you through an ordeal that she knows will scare the shit out of you.”

She stood to her full height and looked contemptuously at Amber, who stared back at her, wide-eyed.

“So Amber, as you’ve shown that you haven’t an ounce of decency in you, your punishment has just increased tenfold.  It’s time you took another turn strapped to the front of the car.”

Amber’s response was to redouble her efforts to free herself, whilst pleading, for what seemed like the thousandth time, to be forgiven for her sins. The ball-gag and duct tape, however, made her words unintelligible, and were, of course, ignored by her tormentors.

As Jade was speaking, Jasmine had commenced unlocking the padlocks that held the chains around Lauren’s legs and torso. With these removed, both Jade and Jasmine released the leather straps that had kept her immobilised, then set her down on the ground. Mercifully, the trees’ canopy sheltered the ground directly below from the worst of the rain, and the thick mat of pine needles remained relatively dry. Still trapped in the bondage-sleeve, and with her legs still bound, Lauren could only watch as the twins began removing the ropes and neck chain that were anchoring Amber to the tree.  As they were about to manoeuvre their cousin back into the position required to once more strap and chain her for another high speed caper, however, Jasmine stopped and turned her head. She seemed to be listening intently.

“Do you hear that Jade?”

Her sister, too, stopped and listened.  At first, all Lauren could hear was the rain lashing down, the wind in the treetops and the whimpering that emanated from Amber’s stuffed and sealed mouth. But then, ever so faintly, she heard it too. Far away, it seemed, the wail of a police siren could just be made out. Jasmine turned to her sister.

“Do you think someone’s seen us and called the police?”

Jade dismissed the idea.

“You know how the sound from those sirens carries for miles. It’s probably coming from the main road.  The A12 is only a couple of miles away, after all. There’s no reason to think this has anything to do with us.”

She returned to the task of trying to get her wriggling cousin ready for her next ride. Jasmine, however, was less convinced than her sister, and maintained her vigilance. And after a few seconds, the monotonous wailing sound did indeed seem to become a bit louder. 

“You know Jade, I don’t think we should take any chances. Let’s get out of here just in case they‘re coming this way.”

Reluctantly, Jade conceded that her sister was probably right.

“Get Lauren in the car and I’ll deal with this bitch.”

Jasmine hurried over, grabbed Lauren by the shoulders and dragged her towards the Land Rover. Opening the back passenger door, she hauled her bound friend into the foot-well and left her lying there, face upwards.  Lauren was glad to be out of the cold and rain as her spandex cat-suit was now soaked, which was causing her to shiver uncontrollably. Seconds after she was laid to rest, however, a layer of insulation was dumped on top of her in the form of Amber. In contrast to Lauren, Amber was pushed into the tight space between the front and back seats face first, which meant that, not only was she lying on top of Lauren, but they now found themselves eye to eye. Amber’s skin-tight cat-suit glistened in the dim autumn light and she was shivering violently; whether from cold or fear was difficult to say. Probably a combination of the two.

The rear door slammed shut and the floor of the car dipped slightly, as the twins jumped into the front seats. Seconds later, they were on the move and accelerating away, although at a more controlled speed than the last time the car had been in motion.  For several minutes the vehicle maintained a steady pace, until the uneven nature of the terrain seemed to ease, which suggested that they were now back on the public highway. From her position on the floor, Lauren could, if she looked upwards and to her left, see Jade peering over her shoulder between the car’s front seats; checking the view behind them.

“It doesn’t look like we’re being followed. I guess it was a false alarm after all.”

“Better safe than sorry though, Jade. It might have been a bit embarrassing trying to explain what we were up to if we’d been caught. And I bet Amber would have made sure that we were arrested. ”

“Yeah but it might have had its compensations though.  Just think, being handcuffed by a couple of hunky policemen.”

Both of the twins laughed. It seemed that they found this scenario quite an appealing prospect.


After a few minutes, the twins lapsed into silence as they made their way along the wet and winding country lanes of Suffolk.  With Amber’s weight on top, and with her arms trapped beneath her, Lauren found her position on the floor to be uncomfortable and verging on the painful. She contrived to manoeuvre herself into a more relaxed posture, and it was at this juncture that Amber decided to risk a stab at communication. Up to this point, Lauren had done her best to avoid eye contact, but now, as her fellow captive begged for Lauren’s assistance in putting a stop to the nightmare that the twins were inflicting on her, their eyes met.

Despite all that Amber had put her through, which had culminated recently in letting her suffer on the front of the Land Rover, Lauren couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It was obvious that she had been genuinely terrified at the way the twins were treating her, and even more so by the prospects of what might still be to come.  Her muffled “You’ve got to help me”, however, was overheard by Jade, who turned between the front seats and looked down on the pile of bound women behind her.

“Now, now girls. No trying to communicate with each other.  We can’t have you two conspiring to break free can we? I know she wants you to help her Lauren, but all she’ll do is tie us up and take her revenge on us all, including you.”

From her position at the wheel, Jasmine chimed in.

“So don’t even think about helping her get free Lauren. If you do we’ll have no choice but to punish you as well.”

Amber shrieked a curse at the twins, which simply made them laugh.

“Scream at us all you like, but we’re in control now, and the chances of you going free in the next few days are non-existent.... Ah, nearly home now Amber.”

This remark coincided with the vehicle bumping and jolting along a less even piece of terrain, which was obviously the track leading back to Amber’s makeshift lair. And this assumption was confirmed only seconds later when the car came to a halt and the twins began to remove the two trussed and helpless women out of the foot-well. It was still raining outside, which encouraged Jade and Jasmine to get into the ramshackle building as swiftly as they were able to persuade their two ankle-bound prisoners to hop.


The chain hanging from the basement ceiling was a grim reminder of the way Amber had been forced to spend the previous night. But it wasn’t towards this central point in the subterranean chamber that Jade ushered her handcuffed and frightened cousin, but instead she was guided, inch by reluctant inch, towards one of the darker corners of what was itself a relatively ill-lit, windowless cavern.  Lauren, who had been helped down the stairs by Jasmine, was now gently persuaded to sit on the stone floor.  She watched as Amber was forcibly lowered to the ground and compelled to sit with her back against a sturdy metal water pipe that ran from floor to ceiling, parallel with, and only inches away from, the damp, cold walls of this underground dungeon. With their victim in position, Jade was joined by her twin, as between them they set about ensuring that Amber and the pipe would be remaining conjoined for the foreseeable future.

This they achieved by treating their protesting latex-clad relative to the bondage equivalent of a three course luxury banquet. As a starter, several strong leather belts were expertly wrapped around both their squirming cousin and the mooring post, before being pulled tight and buckled securely. The main course consisted of a multitude of ropes which, when tied around Amber’s torso to the twins’ satisfaction, left her smothered in stringently bound cords from shoulder to waist. So numerous were the coils that, from where Lauren was sitting, the whiteness of the bonds was in greater evidence than the black cat-suit beneath.  And for dessert - the icing on the cake, so to speak - a generous wrapping of duct tape was applied, which supplemented both the ropes and the straps, and could have left Amber in no doubt about the hopeless nature of her plight.

“There you go Amber, all nice and tight again.  Jade and I are going to leave you here for an hour or two while we decide on our next course of action. Rest assured, though, that the way you betrayed Lauren out at the airfield has added a considerable length of time to your sentence.”

Amber squealed and did her best to pull herself away from the pipe, but she simply couldn’t budge even a fraction of an inch. Jade now picked up and continued with the thread of her sister’s latest utterance.

“Yes, Amber, we haven’t decided exactly how long your captivity is going to last, but suffice to say that by the time we let you go, the concept of freedom will seem like a distant memory.”

With Amber’s feeble protestations falling on deaf ears, Jasmine and Jade returned to the centre of the room.

Lauren stole a glance over at Amber. Whilst the twins had been in the car for most of the storm, and therefore relatively unscathed by the deluge, it was clear that both she and Amber were soaked to the skin. And the freezing conditions in the depths of this ruined building were only going to make things worse for both of them. Luckily, for Lauren at least, respite was at hand.

“It looks like we need to get you out of that wet spandex and into something a bit dryer, Lauren. We’ll take you back to our house and find a nice clean, dry cat-suit for you to wear.”

This was music to Lauren’s ears, but at the same time she realised that Jasmine and Jade had no intention of being so kind-hearted to Amber. And it occurred to her that, if they left her here for any great length of time - which seemed to be in their master-plan - she could develop hypothermia. As the twins helped Lauren to her feet, she tried to communicate these fears to her friends, but her concerns dismissed.

“Did Amber care about our wellbeing when she turned that cold shower on us? Of course she didn’t. Well now she’s getting a taste of her own medicine. And besides, struggling against all those coils of rope and wrappings of tape will soon warm her up.”

Jade began guiding Lauren towards the stairs.

“She’s not worth worrying about Lauren.  We’ll decide what to do with her later.”

And with Amber’s muffled cries of anguish assaulting their ears, the trio made their way upstairs and sealed the cellar door behind them.


In similar fashion to her initial journey that morning, Lauren found herself being bustled into the luggage space at the back of the Land Rover and strapped in for safety. Then the return trip to the twins’ house began. Once back in the driveway of the old farmhouse, the still wet and quivering Lauren was helped inside. She was expecting to be allowed to wash and refresh herself in the same manner as this morning, but it seemed that the twins were wary of releasing her from her bondage completely now, as Jade explained as they entered the bathroom.

“As you seem to be taking Amber’s side at the moment, we’ve decided that we can’t have you trying to escape and attempting to get back to the house to help her. So we’re going to have to keep you under restraint at all times at the moment.  Sorry about that Lauren, but needs must.”

“I shouldn’t think Lauren’s too bothered about that Jade.” her twin responded “She never seems to tire of being tied up, so I don’t suppose this will unduly upset her.”

The ‘this’ Jasmine was alluding to turned out to be a leather hood, which was placed over Lauren’s  head and pulled down to her neck. The hood was small and fit snugly around her temples, cheeks and jaw. And it tightened even further when one of the twins buckled it up securely at the rear of her neck. Lauren soon discovered that there were no openings for either mouth or eyes in this sensory depriving headgear, but merely two slits that aligned with the nostrils for breathing purposes.  Even through the soft but strong fabric, the sound of a padlock being fitted at her neck informed Lauren that taking the hood off, even once her hands were released, would be impossible.

With the head restraint fastened immovably, the process of getting Lauren out of her clinging wet attire commenced. Firstly the three straps around her waist, chest and shoulders were unbuckled and removed. Then it was the turn of the single-sleeve mitten to be relinquished; an act accomplished by one or other of the twins – being in darkness, Lauren couldn’t deduce which – unlacing and then pulling the leather sheath from her arms. Next the pressure around her legs slowly eased, as the three ropes were released and removed in turn; beginning above her knees and working down to her ankles. Now all that remained was for the rope that still held her wrists together with such effectiveness to be released. She held her hands out behind her, in expectation of the removal of this ligature. For a few seconds nothing happened, and she was about to protest that she couldn’t get out of her wet clothes without liberation from this final obstacle, when she felt fingers picking at the tight knot behind her wrists and the bond slackened and fell away; the gentle thud of rope landing on carpet being heard a split second afterwards.

“Okay Lauren, take that wet cat-suit off and we’ll get you dried off and warmed up a bit.”

Despite her eagerness to get the cold clinging material away from her skin, Lauren found her hands automatically reaching up to her neck, in an effort to remove the claustrophobic leather hindrance that smothered her head. Prising the tight leather upwards, however, proved out of the question, and invoked a strong rebuke from one of the twins.

“Stop trying to get the hood off. You’ve got thirty seconds to get out of the cat-suit, or we’ll assume you want to keep it on. Now what’s it to be?”

The threat worked, as the thought of having to spend longer in her wet spandex proved too much to bear. Starting at the shoulders, Lauren began peeling the damp stretchy material down over her breasts and past her hips. As she rolled the reluctantly retreating fabric down her thighs, the awareness hit her that the room was in total silence, and she became self-conscious about the fact that the twins were now able to view her nakedness. She needn’t have worried, however, because as soon as the cat-suit had passed her ankles and she was purging her feet of the last remnants of this sodden garment, she felt a large, bath-towel being wrapped around her shoulders. This had clearly been left hanging over a radiator, and the welcome heat that this provided, she quickly maximised by pulling the soft fabric around herself and revelling in its comforting warmth.

“We’ll be back in five minutes Lauren.  There’s a pair of tights and a fresh cat-suit by your feet. Make sure you’re dressed by the time we return.”

The heavy bathroom door slammed shut. Lauren waited for a minute or maybe more, savouring the last ounce of residual warmth from the rapidly cooling towel. Then she carefully crouched down and felt around on the floor until she located her fresh garments. She quickly sheathed her legs in the tights and pulled them up to her waist, before reaching down until her fingers came into contact with the familiar texture of smooth spandex. Working out which were the arms and which were the legs took half a minute or so, until she finally had the appendages correctly aligned. She tried lifting one leg to begin ensconcing herself into the soft garment, but found herself beginning to lose her balance. Whether this was down to her limbs still being weak from such a long stretch in bondage, or maybe the fact that she couldn’t see conspired to make her lose her bearings. Or possibly it had something to do with the aftershock from the near death experience she’d suffered only an hour or so ago.  

Whatever the reason, the fact that she almost toppled over made her realise that sitting down and wrestling herself into the tight stretch fabric was probably her best bet. Even then, working blindly made getting herself into the constricting costume a testing experience, and she only just had time to stand up, pull the zip up to her neck and smooth the skin-tight weave down over her legs, arms and body, before the door opened once again.  Without ceremony, she felt a pair of hands take hold of her by the shoulders and turn her around, whilst another pair grabbed both of her arms and pulled them behind her back. She experienced the cold metal embrace of the handcuffs around each wrist in turn, before the staccato clicking of the ratchets informed her that the descent into her next phase of bondage was well and truly underway.

Sitting her down on the carpet, the twins made light work of binding Lauren’s ankles and knees, before helping her once more to her feet. Although now once again incapable of fleeing the scene, the hood remained firmly locked around her head. Making her hop out of the bathroom, down the stairs, along the hallway and out the front door with her legs bound, struck Lauren as a rather cumbersome way of getting her back into the car. Why didn’t they allow her to walk to the vehicle and then tie her legs? But that was just the way the twins operated, she guessed. Making life easy – either for themselves or their captive – was of secondary importance. What mattered was that their victim had no capacity for either fight or flight.

Not that Lauren had any desire to entertain either of these options, as she had no complaints whatsoever about the treatment being meted out to her.  As soon as the handcuffs had been placed around her wrists, she’d once more experienced that blissful sense of well-being that always accompanied being trussed up and rendered helpless. If only this ongoing situation with Amber could be put to rest, then she would have been one completely carefree young woman.


It must have been late in the afternoon by the time the twins bundled Lauren into the car and placed her, sitting upright, on the back seat. She felt a seat belt being pulled across her chest to stop her moving around during the journey – either by accident or design - before the familiar drone of the engine let her know that they were once again on the move.  If Lauren’s estimate of the time was correct, then it would be nearly dark by now given the time of year, which was probably the reason that the twins didn’t see the need to hide Lauren’s masked face from public view. Where were they going? It seemed a good bet that they were headed back once again to further torment Amber, and this was confirmed by the twins as they made the short journey back to the old house that had become their cousin’s place of incarceration. The conversation was, inevitably, one sided, as her gag, together with the constricting nature of the hood that retarded the movement of her jaw, meant responding to the twins with anything other than the occasional muffled “mmph”, was beyond Lauren’s capabilities.

“So here’s the plan. We’re going to pay a fleeting visit to Amber and drop a few hints about what we’re going to do to her later. We won’t give her any specifics, of course. It’s the fear of the unknown, and what we might do to her, that’s really going to put the frighteners on her. Then she can spend the night worrying about how long it will be before we return and put our plans into action.”

Lauren must have made some sort of sound at that point which conveyed the unease she was feeling at the nature of talk like this. Jasmine sighed.

“Yes Lauren, we know you don’t approve of the way we’re treating our dear cousin, so we’ve come up with an idea. Originally, we were going to leave you behind at our house while we went out for something to eat.”

“But then” Jade took over from her sister “we thought that, as you’re so fond of Amber, you might like to spend the evening with her. Just so that she doesn’t get too lonely in her prison cell. You can share bondage tales and really get to know each other better.”

The twins giggled at this concept.


Before long, the bumpiness of the journey signalled the imminent arrival at their destination. Still hooded, handcuffed and bound, Lauren was removed from the car and forcibly marched into the building. No sooner had they entered the dark hallway of the decaying ruin, than the sound of someone wailing, faintly and pitifully, could be made out. But as the cellar door creaked slowly open, the volume levels of these desperately mournful cries increased tenfold. The howling continued until Lauren had been guided to the bottom of the stairs.

“Shut up Amber, or we’ll be forced to shut you up... for good.”

This threat from Jade seemed to have the desired effect, as almost immediately Amber lapsed into silence, save for an almost inaudible whimper that seemed to issue through her gag involuntarily every few seconds.

Without warning, Lauren felt the padlock at the back of her neck being released, and seconds later the leather, which had been acting as a second skin over her face, began to slacken and the sensation of the hood being lifted from her head corresponded with the return of her vision. She blinked in the dim light while her eyes made the necessary adjustment to the relative brightness. The first thing that greeted her returning sight, was that the twins were no longer in their usual bondage garb of spandex, but had changed into their ‘going out’ clothes; Jasmine wearing a tight white t-shirt and even tighter jeans, with Jade in a clinging silk blouse, short skirt and tights, all in black. Both wore high heels.

But the twins clothes only briefly held her attention, as the next thing she saw made her gasp with dismay.  Amber was still sitting where the twins had left her, roped and taped up to the nines.  But even in this shadowy realm, it was clear that she was shivering uncontrollably. And then there were her eyes. Large dark circles rimmed with red that peered out from the holes in her latex mask and seemed to be pleading for release; for an end to her torment; for compassion to be shown. Indeed, the perilous nature of her plight seemed to suggest that she was actually pleading for her life, as it was clear that if she was left here overnight, she would be unlikely to still be alive in the morning. But what really worried Lauren was the fact that the twins didn’t seem to notice this. Or if they did, they simply didn’t care. Indeed, their attention at this very moment was focused entirely on Lauren; and more specifically, on increasing her bondage to a level whereby she would be powerless to help Amber out of her predicament.

Within seconds, Lauren found her arms – still in the handcuffs - being once more enveloped in the single-sleeve mitten that she’d been wearing earlier that day. The familiar tightness, as it was laced severely around her elbows and shoulders, was followed by the application of the belts around her limbs and torso, welding her arms to her back and restricting still further her ability to move.

“There, that should stop you tampering with any bonds; either your own or Amber’s.”

Lauren found herself being coaxed to sit down on the hard stone floor. Unexpectedly, Jade produced another piece of rope and deftly threaded it through Lauren’s legs. Whilst looping the soft white cord around her waist, threading it through the lacing of her bondage sleeve, pulling it ultra-tightly and finally knotting it, Jade winked at Lauren and whispered in her ear.

“Just in case you get bored Lauren. It’ll give you something to take your mind off our cousin’s whining and whinging while we’re gone.”

With the crotch rope secured, Lauren’s leg bonds were checked and tightened. Only then, after satisfying themselves that she had no chance of escape, did Jade and Jasmine finally turn their attention to their other, less willing captive.

“So Amber, it doesn’t look like you’ve made much headway in getting yourself out of those bonds. Such a shame, as we were looking forward to punishing you for trying to escape.”

Jasmine knelt down beside the still shaking woman and checked that the tape that surrounded her hadn’t loosened or become unstuck in any way.

“I expect you’re wondering exactly what we’ve got planned for you tomorrow, aren’t you?”

She let this rhetorical question hang in the air for a few seconds, before continuing.

“Well the thing is, we couldn’t tell you if we wanted to, because we still haven’t made up our minds yet, although we’ve got several possible options up our sleeves.”

“We could bury you up to your neck in sand, like you did to us.” Jade suggested “Or perhaps we could take you down to the estuary of the River Orwell and find a nice spot of quicksand for you to wallow in.”

“Or we could tie you to a chair and duck you in the river, like they used to do with witches in the old days.”

Sowing the seeds of psychological turmoil in their victim’s mind was a pastime that the twins seemed to take great satisfaction from at that moment. And Amber, it appeared, had now lost the will to fight back. Whereas earlier she would have put up a struggle and let rip with outbursts of semi-comprehensible outraged indignation, now the only sounds to make their way past the ball-gag and tape were low groans and pathetic sobs.  After a minute or two more of verbal torment, however, the twins seemed to get bored of the game and turned to leave. But as they reached the foot of the stairs, from somewhere Amber summoned up one last ounce of strength and screamed as loudly as she could.


Simultaneously, she banged her handcuffed wrists against the pipe to which she was moored, causing a clanging sound of metal-on-metal to echo eerily around the underground chamber. Jasmine turned on her heels and looked back at her cousin, a devious grin on her face. She reached into the rear pocket of her jeans and produced a solitary metal key which momentarily sent a shaft of silver flashing across the room as the light from the overhead bulb caught it. She walked back to where Amber sat.

“I dare say you recognise this, don’t you Amber? It’s the key to all your problems. Well I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll leave it here for you.”

Jasmine walked over to a spot on the far side of the room, where Lauren noticed the hold-all bag, which the twins had earlier used to transport all the chains and other bondage paraphernalia on this morning’s jaunt, had been deposited. She held the key up over the open bag and dropped it from a height of six inches into the interior. There was a slight ‘clink’, as the key presumably came into contact with the chains within. Jasmine zipped the bag shut, picked it up and came back across the room; the click of her heels vibrating on the stone floor. She placed it on the worktop where even more of Amber’s bondage and torture apparatus still lay.

“There you go Amber.  If you can get to it, you can use it to get yourself free. If not... well I guess you’ll have to stay where you are until we return.”

She turned and walked towards the stairs, where her twin stood waiting for her. They began to ascend.

“Where shall we go to eat, Jade? I hear that The Unruly Pig at Bromeswell is supposed to be a very good pub for food these days.  And it’s close at hand.”

“We can try there if you like, or alternatively Wilford Bridge is only a little further up the road....”


That was the last part of the conversation that Lauren heard clearly, although even after the cellar door had been slammed shut, the mumble of voices could still be heard for a few seconds, until they gradually faded away into silence.  Lauren noted, however, that although the cellar door had been closed, she had heard no evidence of it being sealed; no turning of the key in the lock or bolts slamming into place. Nor had the light been switched off, as was customary. Either the twins had been too preoccupied with their dining plans and had become careless, or they were sufficiently certain that their two prisoners wouldn’t be capable of getting up the stairs and out of the dungeon under their own steam. And under normal circumstances they were probably right. But this was no ordinary situation. Lauren glanced over at Amber, who seemed to be shivering even more than she had been only a minute or two ago. Her eyes were closed and her breathing seemed shallow and sporadic. Okay, so the twins would only be gone an hour or two, but even then, the chances of them releasing Amber and allowing her to get out of her wet clothes were minimal. She just had to help her escape before she froze to death.

Lauren looked up at the hold-all on the table away to her right. All she had to do was get the key to the handcuffs and somehow manoeuvre it over to the corner of the room where Amber was tethered. But how was she going to do that with her hands stuffed inside the bondage mitten? She tugged and strained at her ankle bonds, but this tight rope, as well as those further up her legs, proved too stubborn to shift. She shook her arms from side to side, and tried to contort them into a position where she could slip out of the leather binding. But of course, as she already knew, the twins had done their job to perfection, and she was inescapably trapped.  How she wished now that she’d paid more attention to Jasmine and Jade’s escapology techniques. So with her arms out of commission, there was only one thing for it. She would have to retrieve the key by some other means.

Lauren shuffled across the floor on her backside, using her feet to propel herself forwards, until she was only inches from the bench. Getting herself into a kneeling position took several attempts, but she finally found herself balancing precariously on her knees and toes. Lifting herself to her full height proved a nerve-wracking experience, as the possibility of losing her balance and falling over at any second seemed a very real danger. However, with a ‘mmph’ of triumph, after a minute or so she found herself standing in front of the table, with the hold-all tantalisingly close at hand.

The worktop surface was situated at a height of around four feet from the ground, which proved to be the next obstacle in her path. With her arms lashed to her back, she had no way of lifting them up to a height whereby she would be able to push the bag off the work surface and onto the floor. Having her lower face covered in duct tape was also a hindrance, as this precluded using her teeth to grip the bag’s handles and drag it towards her.  There seemed only one other option left open to her. Leaning forwards, she placed her head over the top of the bag and used her chin to drag it back towards the edge. Being full of chains, padlocks and other bondage tackle, the bag proved to be extremely heavy, and consequently very difficult to shift. Gradually, however, Lauren could feel it sliding in the required direction. As it neared the side of the bench, she hopped to one side and gave one final push with her tape-encrusted face, so that the holdall crashed down onto the stone floor.

The noise that reverberated around the cavernous basement roused Amber from her apparent stupor. When she saw what Lauren was attempting, her whole demeanour appeared to alter in an instant, as the prospect of salvation suddenly became a reality again. Where only moments ago she had appeared to have given up hope of ever getting out of her dire predicament, now some of the old Amber spirit had resurfaced, and she began making encouraging noises through her gag; egging Lauren on to find the key and to shepherd it in her direction.

Lauren dropped as gently as she could back down to the floor. Getting the bag to the ground had been an exhausting process, but there were still major hurdles to overcome before she could get the key into a position where Amber could unlock her shackles. And the first of these obstacles was the zip on the bag. As with the recently achieved removal of the holdall from the table, the unavailability of both her fingers and her teeth was going to prove problematic in drawing back the metal fastener and getting at the contents enclosed beneath. That really only left her with one alternative – her feet. Being barefoot, save for the mesh of the tights, was a blessing in this respect, as she was able to grip the metal clasp with relative ease between the big toes on either foot, and slowly but surely, she managed to slide the fastener back and unseal the bag. Once a gaping chasm had been opened to reveal the chains and ropes within, however, another problem presented itself, namely how to rummage through the assembled binding agents to locate the tiny key.

Once again her feet proved to be the answer.  Grasping one of the handles with her foot, then swinging her legs upwards so that the bag turned one hundred and eighty degrees and spilled its contents onto the floor, took three or four attempts. But eventually, with Amber still making encouraging noises from her corner of the room, the stone surface became strewn with all manner of bondage gear. Now it was just a case of sorting through the jumbled mass until the sought after item revealed itself.

To say that pinpointing the key’s whereabouts was like looking for a needle in a haystack would be an exaggeration... but only a slight one. With their flight from the airfield made in haste, the twins hadn’t worried too much about the niceties of folding up the ropes into neat tidy bundles, nor cared about the order in which everything had been quickly tossed into the bag. Consequently, the ropes, chains and straps had become hopelessly entangled and interwoven, so that extricating any particular bond and laying it to one side was not an easy endeavour – especially with the sorter having no use of her hands to assist the process. Added to this was the fact that the key-ring, that had once kept the keys to all the padlocks in regimented order, had somehow come open and released its charges, which only served to make Lauren’s task doubly frustrating. In the dim light, each key looked very similar to the next. After several minutes of trial and error, however, and with Amber getting more irritated by Lauren’s failure to deliver her longed for freedom, she finally spotted a key that she was certain was the one to release her fellow prisoner from her manacles.

Shuffling back across the floor whilst pushing the key in front of her with her toes, Lauren soon covered the distance to her cellmate’s anchorage.  As she reached Amber’s legs, for a second or two Lauren baulked at what she was about to do. This was the woman, after all, who had buried her up to her neck in sand and then left her in what had looked like being a watery grave.  So why was she helping her now?  Would Amber reciprocate and set her free? She doubted it. But what she did realise was that Amber’s life was in danger if she remained here, and that she simply had to help a fellow human being in distress, whoever it was and whatever the consequences might be.

Behind Amber’s back, at floor level, where the pipe disappeared into the floor, Lauren could just make out a gap of no more than two inches in the swathes of duct tape, where the fingers of a pair of shackled hands could just be seen.  Slowly, to make sure she positioned it in precisely the right spot, she eased the key into this tiny space with her toes. For a few seconds, Amber’s fingers stretched and strained, desperately trying to grab hold of the lifeline she’d been thrown.  But then, with a high pitched shriek of triumph, she procured the tiny sliver of metal between her thumb and index finger.  For what must have been fully five minutes, Amber contorted and wriggled – in turn grunting with impatience, or yelping with joy at each minor triumph - as she fought to get the three pairs of handcuffs unlocked.  Lauren marvelled at her dexterity and flexibility as she seemingly twisted her bound body into impossible shapes to liberate herself. One by one, she heard the bracelets opening and watched as each pair of handcuffs became redundant and fell to the floor.

Even with all three pairs of handcuffs lying discarded at the foot of the pipe, Amber still had her work cut out to free herself from the straps, ropes and duct tape that seemed determined to hamper her getaway. Clawing away at the multiple layers of constraining ligatures with her finger nails, however, gradually produced a loosening of the tight wrappings, until she was finally able to wriggle free of the last of these stubborn bonds. For several seconds she rubbed her wrists and then examined them in detail, as if not quite able to believe that she was indeed free at last. Then she stripped the duct tape from her masked face, before reaching around to the back of her neck and swiftly unbuckling the strap that had held the ball-gag firmly behind her teeth for more than twenty four hours. She grimaced as the ball slid from her mouth, and massaged her aching jaw for several seconds, before reaching down to her feet and unlocking the cuffs from around her ankles. Now completely free of her bonds, she tried to stand up. For a second, it looked as if her legs were about to give way under her, and she grasped the pipe that she had so recently been tethered to for support. Gingerly, she bent her knees and stretched her legs, allowing the circulation to gradually return after such a long period of immobility.

Although Lauren had been sitting only a foot or two away from Amber during the latter’s Houdini act, there had been no communication between the two women during this period. In fact, it was as if Amber had forgotten that Lauren was even there, so intense had her concentration been on getting herself free. Now, however, she gazed down at the still bound woman at her feet. From looking as if she was at death’s door only minutes ago, the transformation was quite remarkable. Suddenly, the old, dominant Amber was back, and her anger at the treatment that her cousins had forced her to endure was plain to see. And worse than that, it seemed that Lauren was going to be made the scapegoat for all her woes.

“Fell for it didn’t you? My little ‘help me, I’m so cold I’m going to die’ routine. Maybe the twins haven’t told you, but I trained to be an actress, and I’m extremely good at it.”

She took a couple of paces and stood directly beneath the single light bulb, her tight latex cat-suit glistening in the pale illumination.

“This suit, you see, is virtually waterproof, unlike the spandex numbers that you favour. So I was never actually in any danger of shuffling off this mortal coil. And besides, wriggling around in all that duct tape has made me quite warm. My only concern was getting out of my bonds, and you’ve been so very generous in helping me out in this regard.”

She smiled a humourless smile that sent a familiar shiver of fear through Lauren.

“But if you think that just because you helped me get free that I’m going to do the same for you, then you’re very much mistaken.  As you probably realise, I’ll be out for revenge on your friends for keeping me tied up all this time, and you, my sweetie, might well come in handy as a hostage... or perhaps as bait to lure those two stupid bitches back down here. I haven’t really made up my mind what I’m going to do yet, but one thing I do know is that there’s no rush. Be it tomorrow or the day after, I will have those two begging for mercy. And when I do, I’ll make sure you’re there to watch, just so that you understand that crossing me is a dangerous game to play.”

She smiled again and walked uneasily across the room to where a steel locker stood in the far corner. Opening it, Lauren watched as she retrieved a long black leather coat from within and flung it around her shoulders. She reached in again and retrieved a bottle of mineral water. Eagerly, she quenched her thirst with long gulps of the soothing liquid, which made the helplessly watching Lauren realise that it was a long time since her throat had enjoyed such luxury. But if she was hoping Amber would take pity on her and share her drink, then she would be bitterly disappointed.

“Anyway, I can’t stand here talking to you all night. I’m going home now to get some sleep and plan my revenge. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when the twins discover that you were the one who set me free. If you do see them, send my regards and tell them that there’s going to be a little surprise awaiting them when we next meet. I’ll see you in the morning if you’re still here. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to ring for a taxi. ”

She pulled the latex mask from her head, before retrieving her phone from the pocket of her coat and studying the screen.

“No signal down here.” she mused to herself, then slipped her high-heeled boots on and headed for the stairs without even glancing in Lauren’s direction again.

Lauren squealed as the light in the cellar was extinguished, although she knew that protest was futile. She heard the door slam and two heavy bolts slide into place, although the sound of the key turning in the lock didn’t materialise; presumably because this was still in the twins’ possession.


So what possible conclusions to her ongoing captivity could there be for Lauren now? If the twins returned – which they inevitably would at some point – then how were they going to react to the fact that Lauren had let their arch-enemy get away. Lauren mulled over the possibility that she should perhaps try to convince them that Amber had escaped without her assistance, but she knew full well that the twins wouldn’t buy that one.  So what would their response be to her misdemeanour?  Would they punish her? And if so how? She decided that it was best not to dwell too long on such matters.

But was being punished by the twins the lesser of two evils? If Amber returned, what fate would befall her then?  And of course there was always the possibility that both parties would turn up at the same time. Who would be mostly likely to prevail? And what consequences would a clash of that nature have for her? Was Amber waiting to ambush her cousins at this very moment? If so, could Lauren redeem herself in the twins’ eyes by trying to warn them? The questions seemed endless, but answers were few and far between.


It must have been around two hours after they had departed, that the sound of two familiar voices – seemingly in high spirits - reached Lauren’s ears. The twin’s first attempt to open the heavy cellar door met with failure, and a few seconds elapsed during which time Jasmine was heard to ask Jade whether she remembered bolting the door on their departure. Jade’s reply was given in the negative. The sound of the bolts being withdrawn was followed by the creak of the heavy door opening.

“The light’s been turned off!”

This situation was immediately rectified, and as Lauren’s vision adjusted to the brightness, she saw Jasmine creeping cautiously down the stairs, followed two steps behind by her twin. Gone now was the frivolity that had been obvious as they’d re-entered the house. Now both were on their guard due to the altered circumstances that they’d encountered on their return. As Jasmine reached the foot of the stairs, Lauren attempted to make her aware that Amber was no longer under lock and key. But she needn’t have bothered, because her attempt at speech coincided precisely with Jasmine’s sudden enlightenment.

“”Shit! Where’s Amber? She’s not here!”

Immediately Jade was at her sister’s side. For a few seconds, both women gazed at the abandoned handcuffs, shredded tape and loosely coiled ropes and belts that haphazardly adorned the corner of the room where once Amber had been fettered and helpless. Finally, after what seemed like a geological age, but was in fact probably no more than ten seconds, Jade turned to where Lauren lay a few feet away.

“What have you done!?”

Lauren squirmed in her bonds and offered a sheepish “sorry” through her gag. But that was never likely to be even remotely enough to appease the twins, and her apology was drowned out by Jasmine’s verbal onslaught.

“You idiot! What the hell did you go and do that for? We had her just where we wanted her and now, thanks to you, she’s on the loose again!”

From her position on the ground, Lauren gazed up at her friend, whose face showed the extreme anger that this perceived act of betrayal had engendered. And it was clear that Jade’s fury was the equal of her sister’s, as she kicked the now empty hold-all across the floor.

“You know something Lauren? We were planning to take you back to our house tonight and let you relax in a nice warm bed, whilst Amber spent the night here in solitary confinement. But now? Your stupidity has put us all in danger, and you’re going to have to pay dearly for that.  Do you think Amber’s going to just let you go? Of course she isn’t. The chances are that you won’t be seeing the light of day again for a very long time. But so be it. You’ve made you’ve bed, now you’re going to have to lie in it...”

A sudden creaking sound from the top of the stairs stopped Jade in full flow. It was probably only the wind shifting the door a fraction of an inch on its hinges, but it caused Jade and Jasmine to look at each other, as if they’d both had the same thought simultaneously. It was Jasmine, however, who articulated their shared concerns.

“Come on Jade, we’d better get out of here. If Amber comes back she’ll seal us in here and we’ll never get out.”

 Both twins made a dash for the stairs and hurried upwards, taking two steps at a time. Once they’d reached the door, they paused momentarily.

“Goodbye Lauren. Enjoy your time with Amber. You’re on your own from now on.”

Blackness enveloped the room and the door slammed shut, but in their haste, the twins once more failed to lock or bolt the door.


For Lauren, the night was a long one, which gave her ample opportunity to reflect on how she had come to be here and to review her whole bondage life up to this point. It wasn’t that she minded being tied up and left overnight in the cellar. In fact, taken in isolation, that would have been a pleasant – indeed welcome – phenomenon. But what she had become sick of was all the unpleasant crap and competitive nastiness that seemed to go with it where Amber and the twins were concerned. She had sussed out very early on that Amber was evil, but until today she hadn’t realised just how spiteful and hate-filled the twins could be. Their actions, both towards Amber and herself during the past twelve hours or so, had really opened her eyes to their contempt and insensitivity towards others, and she vowed there and then that once she got out of here – if she ever did – that she would sever all ties with them. 

The writing should have been on the wall, of course, even from day one. The fact that her initiation into bondage had been a marathon session, which had culminated in her being interred in a wooden box and buried beneath the ground, should have set alarms bells ringing from the start. But the fact that she’d found being tied up in ever more restrictive fashion such a turn on, had blinded her to the more sadistic side of the duo’s nature. Now, however, this malevolence had gone too far and she wanted no more to do with them.

But of course, this left her with a huge dilemma. She could give up being friends with the twins, but her kinship with the ropes, handcuffs and all other means of being securely and inescapably tied up, would be a far tougher metaphorical bond to break. In fact, as she knew only too well, it would be impossible. Now that she had sampled the sheer unadulterated joy of tight and multi-layered bondage, she knew she would never be able to give up on it. Okay, she could always indulge in self-bondage if she had to, but it was no substitute for the real thing. For bondage to be everything she wanted it to be, she needed to know that her ropes and other fetters were such that freedom could never be attained without outside assistance. And self induced tie ups, by their very nature, could never deliver that feeling.

So what was she to do? She promised herself that, as soon as she was free and back in the outside world, she would do whatever she could to find a play partner on her own wavelength; someone who would tie her up to the standards to which she was accustomed, but without the unnecessary spite that followed when Jasmine and Jade were involved.  She had no idea how to go about this, but her resolve was strong. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, she told herself, and somewhere out there, my bondage soul-mate is waiting for me.


To pass the time, and to take her mind off more sinister affairs, Lauren found herself experimenting with the crotch rope that Jade had been thoughtful enough to apply. The sensation, as soon as she pulled the cord as tightly into herself as she was able, proved to be a familiar and very welcome one in otherwise uncertain times. By now she was well versed in the use of this form of stimulation, and she knew exactly what was required to reap the most bountiful harvest from this particular type of self-abuse.  Working the rope rhythmically within her, she felt that warm, wet, blissful sensation stirring between her legs, and the pace of her endeavours slowly increased until her hips and thighs were thrashing wildly in an ever more frenzied attempt to attain the Holy Grail. As she reached her zenith, she moaned long and low into her gag, as her whole body spasmed and writhed in ecstasy. At that very moment, she couldn’t have cared less what became of her. Just so long as she could recreate moments like this, she would be happy to stay here indefinitely.

Lauren was to repeat this performance at various intervals throughout the next few hours, and these intense and extremely enjoyable episodes, coupled with short bouts of sleep, helped her to make it through the night. But all the time, one question remained in the back of her mind. Exactly who would return first, the twins or Amber? She still wasn’t sure which was preferable, but in the end she was to discover that someone else would beat them to it.  


The first that she knew about her unexpected visitor was when she heard a knocking sound; three loud thuds on the wooden cellar door, which reverberated around the stone walls, floor and ceiling of her underground tomb. Having been asleep only moments before, Lauren at first thought that she must be hearing things; after all, who would be likely to visit this place? And even stranger was the fact that someone would see the need to knock on the door. Who would do that? Certainly not Jade, Jasmine or Amber. For a few seconds the silence returned, and Lauren began to think that she’d imagined the whole thing. But then, just as she was becoming resigned to her period of solitary confinement continuing, she heard the door creaking open.  Seconds later, the light came on and Lauren, in her hypnopompic state, could just make out the indistinct shape of a figure moving down the steps. Involuntarily, she made some strange startled noise into her gag. The figure stopped, having descended approximately halfway down the stairs.

“Hello? Mistress de Sade? Is that you?”

Lauren froze.

The voice was that of a man!

You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum


story continues in