She woke from complete exhaustion to find Carlos moving the blanket off of her. He was naked and had a huge erection. “The code didn’t work, bitch.” He snarled at her as he rolled her on to her back. “Now you’re going to pay.”
Gina took stock. Her shoulders still hurt pretty bad but could be used. She was wearing a collar and looked to see the chains running from it to either side of the garage, holding her in place. She still had both sets of suspension cuffs on. As she was rolled on her back she felt a bit tender but really not sore anymore and not in pain. And Carlos wanted his normal Saturday morning wake-up call. Goody!
And they were still playing the game. She could fight back. She started pushing him off and trying to roll out of the way. If he wanted his morning nookie this morning, he got to earn it. She struggled with arms and feet but Carlos quickly switched to pulling her arms outward and locking her wrist cuffs to the chains holding her collar in place. They had a nice fight which Gina managed to not lose too quickly, then Carlos just lay on top of her and drove deep for his prize.
And with a yell Gina found there was at least one part of her that was still very sore. But she was flat on her back, Carlos was squeezing her breasts and had her pinned. He would not be denied. Gina, turned on by the situation and her ability to have a good old-fashioned struggle and fight to resist him, came very quickly. When she squealed and shook Carlos blessedly stopped and let her have her ride. When she nodded he continued and soon was on a ride of his own. He opened his eyes to look at Gina smiling at him underneath him.
Carlos asked and Gina after a moment of reflection said she was willing to try to go out to breakfast. She agreed they could come back afterward and put her right back where she was now and go from there. Once loose she dug in the bag Carlos had brought in and on a whim decided to forgo the bra. She found a t-shirt. pants and her flip-flops. She didn’t need to explain why she wasn’t wearing anything skimpier.
Breakfast was fine, her shoulders still hurt a little and the clothes weren’t a whole bunch of fun when she moved, but the aspirin she had asked Carlos for before leaving were starting to help. It was a pity there was no alcohol available but it was a breakfast place.
When they came back in, he became rough again. They went in the front door, the chime sounding as it opened. As the door closed Carlos roughly grabbed her.
"Step out of your shoes!" He demanded. Looking down, hiding a smile, she did as she was bid. Then her t-shirt was roughly pulled up and over her head and her pants down, leaving her naked to his gaze. A pair of handcuffs she wasn’t sure where they came from were ratcheted down on her wrists behind her.
"Are you going to come back to the garage with me peacefully?" he asked her threateningly, "or do I have to persuade you?"
"The only way I'm going with you is if you carry me unconscious over your shoulder!" she declared defiantly, playing her part well and wondering how he would respond. Respond well he did, she thought. He grabbed a nipple very firmly and started walking. She got a sharp tug on her breast that she really could have lived without. She followed him compliantly after that, her question answered and not wanting more of the same type of information. But she did feel she had lost that one far too easily.
Back in the garage, he led her to where she had laid previously and told her to put the wrist and ankle cuffs back on. "Get those back on yourself and be real quick about it. Or I’ll string you up and whip you again. And now I’ve got all day." He sounded so stern and threatening Gina couldn’t help but crack a smile. She did hide it from him, though. She had said they could come back to where they left off and this was close enough. She did as she was ordered.
Carlos had retrieved her clothes and shoes from the entryway while she completed her task. He took the ankle spreader bar and attached it to a chain running to a solid anchor point on the floor. Gina, done with the leather cuffs, watched Carlos take the wrist spreader bar. He retrieved a come-along from a shelf and attached it to a similar anchor point on the opposite wall and to the wrist spreader bar. There was a Gina-sized space between the two spreader bars on the floor, and the come-along had about eight feet of line it could reel in. Oh wow, Gina thought, guess what is coming. To figure this one out wasn’t going to be a stretch.
She excused herself for a bathroom break before things began; might as well get that out of the way now. She came back and nothing had really changed. Carlos had tucked her clothes back away in the bag but the spreader bars were still where they were. She thought about where they were when the game stopped; she was on the floor with the collar on and her wrists spread to the chains centering the collar. OK, she decided, he can have my wrists but everything else was game on. She told Carlos as much. She had no doubt that he was looking for a sexual round two for the morning. She had no doubt he would get it but he had to earn this one, too.
Gina lay down and stretched out her arms with her knees drawn up. He fastened her wrists to the ends of the wrist spreader bar. When he straightened up Gina started fighting and almost managed to spill Carlos over. Better be careful, Gina thought, her wrists were locked in a spreader and if she knocked him out it might be hard to get out of them. Then she thought about it, no, as long as her feet were free she could get to the wrist cuffs with her mouth. So she continued to struggle, to pull away from the other spreader bar, and fight. Carlos got plenty of feels of her naked body and kicked (hard enough to register but of course not as hard as she would if this was real) a few times before her ankles were secured.
Carlos wiped his hair back out of his eyes. He cranked on the come-along until it was starting to drag her across the floor. There was still a little slack, but not much. She could probably rattle the chains on her wrists and ankles but not do much better.
Carlos stopped and straddled her hips. He reached down and grabbed her nipples between his fingers but only pulled up a little on her breasts, didn’t pinch and wasn’t hurting her. She stopped her struggling at that; she wasn’t in a hurry to go back into the pain side of things if she had a choice.
“Oh four seventeen wasn’t it bitch!” He snarled. “Want to give me the real PIN number?”
She defiantly rattled the chains holding her wrists. “No. Why? You won’t kill me; you can’t get the code from me if I’m dead. I just need to hold out until Daddy’s men find us. All you can do, you sicko, is hurt me, and that won’t work.” He could certainly tighten up the come-along and stretch her on his de-facto rack. And any time he wanted to he could take her body. If she wasn’t stretched too tightly, she was quite ready for that whenever.
Carlos smiled and let go of her nipples. “Snap your fingers when you’re ready to talk. Oh, there are other things I could do to you.”
His hands slid down to her sides and started dancing along her ribs. She exploded in a convulsion of laughter and desperately tried to shy away, impossible with him straddling her. Her armpits and feet weren’t really that ticklish but her sides were prime targets.
He was merciless. She laughed and laughed and laughed as she shrieked at each new attack and tried to wriggle away. She could move enough to at times get barely away but he was always right back at her and instantly she was in shrieking trouble again, rattling the chains on her limbs and trying desperately to evade.
It was enough of a turn-on, her naked and trying frantically to avoid him. She eventually found herself hyperventilating from taking so many deep breaths and exhaling so explosively. That was starting to scare her and it began to show on her face. Carlos saw it. He stopped and stood up.
“Just breathe, baby.” He cautioned her. No longer provoked and with her nerves scrambled she was able to rein it back in to normal in a minute or two.
She finally let out a big sigh and lay still for another moment. Then she opened her eyes and the fire was back. “Nice try, but that won’t work. Sure, you could do that again. I’ll just pass out. Better than being dead, which is what will happen if I give you the PIN. Daddy’s people have got to be closing in by now.”
“Not likely.” Carlos shot back. “I laid plenty of dead-end trails. But I won’t kill you. Why should I add murder to this? Once I’m away I’ll use my burner to tell your daddy right where you are and you will be safe. And I’ll be gone and rich. You’re going to break. It’s only a question of how much you choose to hurt before then.”
“So you say. Dead women tell no tales. And while you’ve got me tied up here you can do anything you want to me. Even lie about your intentions.”
”Yeah but still. You could give me the real pin number, I could go get the money and be gone. You could be free and safe in about three hours. Or there are other ways I could make it hard for you to breathe.”
Gina truly hoped Carlos didn’t have in mind to hang her, noose-type hang her. It had never been done to her, but it would be in bounds for the weekend. She had no doubt Carlos would keep her safe, but safe might mean letting her struggle and strangle until she finally really passed out and only then immediately getting her out of it. She had no desire to go through that.
“Still.” He continued. “PIN number? Or do you want more?” She just rolled her head away from him and said nothing. One day down, one to go. She was going to win this weekend. She realized he didn’t understand that she had slipped away when he was using the flogger last night. She didn’t want to tell him; the chances were reasonable that he’d quit the game out of concern for her safety. She’d tell him on Sunday or some other weekend when they were cuddled in bed. Right now it was an advantage; he thought she was tougher than she actually was.
But her next test was at hand. Carlos had stripped naked and tightened the come-along until there was no slack left but she was not hurting. then brought over her FM and placed it between her ankles. She groaned inside herself but lay still, unmoving and unspeaking. She remembered her previous experience when he had used that on her. No, this wouldn’t hurt but it would sure qualify as torture.
Soon enough it was set up. Carlos looked down at her trapped body, the dildo on the end of the rod already within her. He had his cell phone in his hand, no doubt the controller app running on it. “PIN number? Or do I start this thing up?” Carlos’ manhood was stiff and strong. If he was going to run the FM on her, seeing that part of him wasn’t helping things at all.
“How long?” She asked. She had no doubt what setting it was on.
“I’ve set the timer to run for two hours.” Carlos answered. Gina’s heart sank. She’d be a drooling mess of explosive need by then. And she doubted he’d be wanting to let her go and satisfy her this time.
“Thirty minutes, please!” she begged. “We both know what two hours of that will do to me.”
“PIN number, please?” He shot back. She just gave him a nasty look and huffed. Carlos shrugged. “Two hours it is. I’m going to go take a nap. If you don’t give me the real PIN number then, I could always turn it back on and go back to sleep.” Gina winced.
Carlos made a small motion with his fingers and the FM came to life. He watched the first few strokes go in and out of Gina and watched her struggle uselessly to try to get away. She finally gave an angry tug at her wrist cuffs and then lay still, fighting the feelings.
Carlos smiled. Good luck with that. He walked away and closed the door behind him.
Gina struggled some more. Would he really leave her here for two hours? She was already itchy from the tickling and the sight of Carlos walking around naked. Her grace period, normally ten minutes or so before the machine got to her, would be much less this time. She struggled again but soon gave it up. She couldn’t move far enough to get the FM dislodged. Damn him anyways. Have a nice nap. She sure wasn’t going to get any sleep.
She had no sense of time. Her quiet place, like when she was locked on the trellis, wouldn’t come here. She had to be in real pain for that to happen, and being driven crazy like this wouldn’t do it. She was on the ground and could not see the clock on top of the filing cabinet. The stroking of the FM felt good, but as always not enough to bring her off. She tried tightening her Kegel muscles and while that intensified the feelings she couldn’t keep that up forever and eventually gave up. She was now whimpering with each inward stroke, shaking just a little, and she started to lose it again. Another long tunnel, bright pink with need. Anything. She’d settle for the stroking and the waves they caused to ripple up and down her just to stop but there was no one to stop the FM’s attack. And more than anything she just wanted a real cock inside her, to stroke her to an orgasm. Desperately. Each wave was pleasure, but it was also mocking laughter. You know what an orgasm is and this isn’t it, won’t be it, and you can’t do shit about it. To feel a real cock inside her, to feel someone touching her nipples, would be nirvana. She gave a loud grunt and shook her chains in frustration. No nirvana here. Only cruel taunts as to what it could be. Over and over and over again. She drifted away, but not to sleep. Just deep in a desperate struggle against her own body. She lost contact with the garage, the world around her, with time itself in the fight as the feelings grew and grew and grew.
And Carlos was back. She had no idea how long had passed. He was standing above her, still naked. The FM had shut off and he was pulling it away and setting it off to the side. She eyed the hard cock between his legs, a cock she had felt between hers so many times. She had to have it. Now! She struggled for a second but was still tight.
“How long?” she whispered. About an hour and a quarter, he told her.
“Fuck me!” She begged in a whisper. “Now. Before I die.”
He lay down on top of her. Yes, it’d be a little painful she thought, she was bound to be sore. She could feel his cock resting on her landing strip. Hard, pressing into her. All he had to do was move a little down and then plunge in. Nirvana.
He looked at her trapped body from about a foot above her. He knew where his cock was, knew how much she must want it. “PIN number.”
She lost it. Shaking her head, she was almost yelling. “Don’t you dare be playing that damn game with me right now. You had that damn thing running in and out of me for over an hour! You KNOW what that does to me!” She was shaking her head, angry. “Don’t you dare. You fuck me right now!”
“PIN number,” he repeated impassively!
“NO DAMMIT!” she yelled. She started struggling, harder than she had up until now. If they weren’t suspension cuffs she would have been hurting herself. She was still locked tight. Carlos was still on top of her, on her landing strip, not moving to go inside of her. She couldn’t move far enough to force him in. He just watched her impassively. After a minute or two she gave a strangled screech and lay still.
She looked up at him with venom. “Ninety-two fourteen.” It was her street address, not her PIN. She shook with sudden violence. “NOW, DAMMIT, FUCK ME!”
He reached over, pretended to tap something into his phone as it lay on the ground beside them. After about thirty seconds he came back on top of her. “Nice try. Again.” She gave a vicious jerk at her chains that changed nothing. “Now it’s time,” he continued, “to teach you a lesson.”
Gina was frantic. If he put that thing back in her and turned it on again, he’d better put a ball gag in her mouth beforehand because she would be screaming. And he’d better be in another country by the time she finally got loose.
He had worse ideas. He slid down her, letting his penis slide down her slit. She froze in place, thinking he was going to slide it in her but he kept going. She couldn’t believe it, there and gone? She was shocked into stunned silence.
He slid down and took a nipple into his mouth. Began licking and sucking on it. NO! Gina wanted to shriek but she stayed frozen. It felt wonderful, but wrong spot, dammit. Like this his cock was down around her knees and she was tied too tightly to do anything about it. It wasn’t making things better, only worse. But that was probably the point.
It wasn’t getting her anywhere near what she wanted. Nibbling on her nipples was nice but she wanted him down lower. But that was not even his intention. Once he had both of her nipples fully erect, he stopped and returned after retrieving their nipple nooses from the bag she brought.
The nipple nooses were just that – wire that looked like what you would find behind a picture to hang it on, braided and extremely flexible. It was about two and a half feet long and each end was a loop that the person’s nipple could go through and tighten around it. Unlike clamps it made the nipple above it mushroom out a bit and was more secure than clamps. She cringed when she saw it. There was nothing she could do, naked and stretched out, but she wasn’t thrilled about getting her breasts stretched and back into pain territory. It also meant that while he was screwing with that and her nipples he would not be doing what he really needed to be doing: screwing her.
She could do nothing about it but a slow burn as her ache in her loins slowly, grumpily faded. The loops went around her nipples and he snugged them down. It was a twinge but not a hurt. Yet.
He ran a piece of rope through an eyebolt in the rafters above her and then over to the sink. The end hanging down above her was tied to the middle of the nipple noose and then she watched as he moved back over to the sink. She watched with growing concern as he took the free end of the rope and looped it to the handle of a large metal bucket that had been sitting in the sink.
He pulled up on the free end of the rope, which after it pulled all the slack out of the line dragged her nipples painfully up into the air. She had large breasts; she had found the hard way they could be stretched about six inches (relatively) comfortably. She had found out that the one night she had chained herself to the ivy trellis outside her front door that her breasts could stretch another inch from there, but that last inch was agony. The bucket wasn’t heavy or full but it was enough to easily stretch her nipples up the six inches and a little further into the not-comfortable but not agonizing range. She saw her danger and what was probably his plan. The bucket was low enough that Carlos could turn the sink on and it would fill the bucket. And then it would be heavy enough to stretch her into the agony range.
That was just what he did. He tied the rope so it was pulling hard on her breasts. They stretched upwards into pyramids but didn’t really stretch, the bucket was only a few pounds. But then he turned on the sink and she felt a little tug in her breasts as the water started to fill the bucket.
Carlos knelt over her. “That’s a five-gallon bucket.” He informed her. “Forty, forty-five pounds. All pulling up on your nipples. Sure you don’t want to tell me the real PIN number?”
“Damn you, you bastard! When Daddy’s people find us, I am going to get them to let me kill you myself. Really fucking slowly. It will be way worse than this, I really, really promise you.” She turned her head to look away from him and at the water running into the bucket to torture her. It was running slowly but there was already enough for her to feel it stretching her.
Carlos shook his head sadly. “Well, your choice. Let me show you something.” He reached underneath her chest and lifted. At about three inches she heard a clunk from the sink and the stretching pain began to ease. He let her back down and the pain returned. “I figure you’ll stretch about another inch or so. If you can lift up your chest up another two or three inches the bucket will hit the bottom of the sink and it won’t stretch you so bad. But how long can you arch your back up?” He smiled evilly. “But you ought to take as much advantage of that as you can now. Eventually that bucket may get full enough to settle down to the bottom of the sink and then, well, you’ll be hanging in the air from your… Well, let’s just say it won’t be an experience quickly forgotten.”
“How long?” She whispered, scared at the prospect.
“I figure about an hour of this should convince you to give me my money so I can go get it and let you go; I plan to come in and remind you. We’ll see what happens after that. “He paused for a second. “I have plans for you after this which will make this feel like a warm breeze. Just so you know.” He walked over to the side of the garage and came back with a bamboo rod. “This wouldn’t feel good on your breasts at any time. I suspect after an hour of hanging by them there a little of this will have you begging me to go get my money and let you go.”
“You are such a bastard. And you are so dead.”
He smiled as he stood up. “We will all die someday. I expect for me that will be a day far in the future, and thanks to you I will be very rich between now and then.” He got up and walked over to his comfortable padded chair. “You can give me the code any time you want.”
Gina struggled as she heard the water continue to run on the other side of the room. This one was hard. The nooses were doing their job; they hadn’t slipped a micrometer. Her nipples had stretched the other inch up and then a little. She had thrust up but could only do that a few minutes. Then she sagged into the painful stretching, it hurt so bad she was silently crying. The only good side is that it completely killed the effects the FM had made to her.
After a few more minutes she felt her shoulder blades lift off the ground and the pain was starting to make her mind buzz. She had flashbacks to where her mind went when Carlos had stretched her breasts when she was on the ivy trellis, the medieval one. Being locked in the Prince’s torture chamber, hanging on a rack suspended by her breasts. She figured that was where Carlos got the idea for this one, it was pretty much the same position she was in now. It hurt worse in real life than it did in what she now knew as her quiet place vision. Her breasts felt like they had red-hot skewers run through them. It was all she could do to just breathe.
She heard a clunk from over in the sink. It must have been the bucket settling to the bottom of it. She was maybe two inches off the floor, but it didn’t matter. Half an inch or half a mile didn’t matter, it was the same on her breasts and chest wall. But at least she was starting to go numb and adjust to the pain. She fought and vowed to hold back the tears. No joy for the bastard!
Gina writhed and struggled. It hurt terribly but she would not give in and not cry out and give him the pleasure of her showing her pain, or the goddamn code. It already hurt about as much as it was going to. There was nothing to lose, no further to slip, she hoped. She could do the hour, but what if he let it go on longer? He had almost a full day! She couldn’t see where Carlos sat. Was Carlos even still in the garage? Was she alone in the garage with her pain and no way to get out of it, not even anyone to surrender or beg for mercy to now? The pain flowed over her like molasses, coating her, smothering her. Where was her quiet place? It would be handy to run there right now.
At least he wasn't suspending her full weight in a vertical position by her breasts, she thought. She had huge breasts, it was an obvious thing and easy enough to do. She and Scott had gotten drunk once and had done that. Just once and for less than a minute. It had been that bad.
She felt herself floating off, felt a little relieved that she was running to her quiet place. Her view cleared; She was naked and standing on a really deserted beach, nobody around for miles except her boyfriend somewhere behind her, watching her, watching her possibly kill herself. A camera stood on a stand safely far in front of her, filming her struggles as she was drawn toward it and if things went horribly wrong her death. The sun was bright and halfway down in the sky in front of her. The wind was warm and brisk and full of sea air and would have had her nipples standing firm and full if they were not that already. The sun was warm on her skin, the sand comfortable and only a little squishy underneath and between her toes. The ocean breeze blew gently through her hair and teased it as she stood there, forced by fate to take steps forward even though she fought it all she could, because given enough steps she was doomed. She was being forced to walk toward the ocean a distance away, the rope with the two nooses was stretched tight and trailing away in front of her. The sea in the distance roared in front of her and the salt air slapped at her senses. She knew this wasn’t real, that she was just in her quiet place and, oh yeah, laying on the floor in Carlos’ garage with her breasts stretched horribly in pain, but these visions always seemed very real. Easy to believe she was actually here.
She realized what was happening; she was living out an old classic erotic story she had once read. The rope connected to her nipple nooses was too strong for her to break; she could only pull against it. She had to; the longer it took her to take those steps ahead the longer she lived. She was pulling so hard against the rope it stretched her breasts horribly and felt like long needles running through them. But she had to, had no choice. You could tell where the quicksand was, the water-heavy sand was darker. She had tied a large weight to the far end of the long rope, walked to the edge of the thirty-foot wide quicksand and gave the weight a tremendous swinging heave toward the center of the dark patch. It landed with a juicy thud near the center of the quicksand and quickly sank out of sight. She shivered and hurriedly walked back the many steps it took to stretch out the rope so she could pull against it, stop the weight from sinking so fast, and looked at the dark spot where the rope ended, sank out of sight into the sand and where perhaps she was about to end. No one knew how deep it was. One thing was certain: She had come out here once by herself and checked; it was deeper than the length of rope currently separating her from it. With the rope tied to her breasts, she was slowly being dragged into it by her nipples, one fighting step at a time. If she didn’t get loose or be let loose, into the quicksand and to her own death she would go.
The situation wasn’t that dire right now. Her hands were free; her fate was not out of her own control. She could untie the rope from around the nipple noose chain, walk away, and live. It was delicious, sexual fire, intoxicating, threatening to overwhelm her with every second. It had dominated her dreams; she had to do this. Even at the risk it was. Especially at the risk it was.
She had hard solid chrome steel manacles around both wrists. Both manacles had a long metal pin welded unbreakably to them, sticking straight out to the inside. Around her waist was a solid belt and in the small of her back a cylinder, like a small, long soda can. Either end had a hole for the pins on each manacle, and she had slid the pins in, but only part way. A powerful magnet was at the middle of the cylinder, and all she had to do to seal her fate was to push the pins far enough into the cylinder for the magnet to grab them. The magnet would pull them the rest of the way in where a catch in the mechanism for each pin would firmly hook around a barb in the pin and her doom would be sealed. Hands locked behind her she would be helpless to prevent herself, step by step, being dragged into the quicksand and follow the weight and the rope to its bottom. If it had one.
She had an out. If she could get to the edge of the quicksand, to where her feet started to sink, and was still able, then she would pull her hands free, untie the rope, and roll out of the quicksand and be safe. She would have won. She would have fought the rope all the way to the edge of the quicksand and kept the pins inside the cylinder but never let them get locked. Jeremy was watching her; if she at any time before she got to the quicksand’s edge pulled her wrists and the pins out of the cylinder, she lost the game. He knew that meant she was asking for help and to come help her, but he was far enough away that she would have the rope untied from her nipple chain long before he reached her.
It was an incredible, heady rush, almost like a continual orgasm about to explode. She shook constantly so hard, on the precipice of that world-shattering orgasm, that it was almost hard to think at times. The risk taker in her was exploding, this was the ultimate risk. Would she keep playing her game with the pins and the cylinder, keeping the pins in the holes, never knowing if letting them slip in just a hair-breadth more would cause the magnet to grab the pins and make her helpless? It was hard, just trying to stand when one was that close to one of the biggest orgasms of her life, and stuck there. When the pull of the rope became too much to resist or the pain became too much she would take a staggering step forward to relieve the tension and rapidly the quicksand would irrevocably claim the distance she had forfeited, no way to pull the weight out, no way to stop or reverse its progress to the bottom. She stood with a wide stance, pulling back on the rope to slow the descent of the weight despite the agony it brought to her through her tortured and aching breasts. It was almost a mind-bending task. Lean too hard and she’d fall and the chances were that she’d shove the pins all the way in and trap herself. It was hard to stand shaking that hard from the excitement and from the need to pull against the rope as hard as she could, fought by her own human aversion to pain, breasts on fire worse than she’d ever felt before. The battle went on, a battle she would eventually, if she became trapped and was not rescued, certainly lose.
A dim thought flashed through Gina’s mind, in the story the rope into the quicksand had been attached to the woman’s clit, not her breasts. Well, needs must, and whatever. It fled in the struggle to deny the pain and continue to pull against the weight no matter how much it hurt, to fight the orgasm that if she had she’d surely lose control and shake enough to lock herself in, an orgasm she dare not have at the cost of her life but was with every step becoming louder than the waves crashing in front of her and more difficult to ignore.
The rope on her breasts became too tight; she surrendered another step and the pain eased for a moment. She sighed with relief since she had managed to keep her wrists steady through yet another step, each one was nerve-wracking and terrifying. They happened when the pain got too great or the weight hit a wet patch and all the sudden the rope gave a hard tug on her stretched and tortured breasts. The steps were normally barely controlled and she had to fight to make sure she didn’t let her wrists slip too far in or she’d hear the loud, ominous click that would tell her she had failed and was now lost to her fate. She wondered what would set off that orgasm if nothing else did, the sound of the pins locking her hands behind her back forever, or her toes as they were walking forward suddenly sinking beneath the surface when she walked into the edge of the quicksand pit.
Why did she come out here and play this game? Did she really want to die? Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. She had never done this before and likely would never do this again, if she survived today. But just the thought of it, planning it made her so hot, so ready to come that she could go off just walking down the hall hot, and she had that sort of wild and crazy obsessive personality that she had finally talked her boyfriend into going with her and being a witness. Perhaps a rescuer, maybe just an observer.
She played with the pins, sliding them slightly in the cylinder in and out. She pushed in, wondering how far she could go, how close to the razor’s edge she could dance. They were four inches long; she had a lot of play. There was a tighter spot at the outer edge for each pin; if it were not locked in you could pull it out of the cylinder, but the tight spot would keep the pins from slipping out accidentally, without a concerted effort. If the magnet grabbed the pins, it would pull them all the way in and the latches would close around the pins and she would be finished. Just a slow, horribly painful doomed battle until her naked body was sucked under the sand. Nobody would ever find her. If Jeremy didn’t tell anyone or show them the videos, she’d be gone without a trace. No one else would ever know what happened to her.
She fought the pull on her breasts, it being painful but stable right now. It was steady, the weight was sinking to the bottom and planning to take her with it. As she fought against it the weight was steady, unyielding, slowly sinking, maybe three to five inches a minute. If she didn’t fight the pull, it was easily twice that. Sometimes it would hit a wet spot and sink fast, giving a hard tug at the rope and she would gasp and despite herself stagger forward a step or two, more terrified that she would lose balance and lock her hands behind her back than with the thought of the ground she was surrendering. She kept up a steady, excruciating pull against the rope. She could take two steps forward and the weight would be off her breasts and she could breathe without pain, but without her pulling against it the slack would rapidly be gone and now she was two steps closer to her destruction,
She played with the pins, slid them back and forth. She pulled one to a safe distance and then for fun slammed the other one all the way in. The magnet wouldn’t catch either of the pins until it could catch them both. Just one being in range was safe. Two being in range was fatal. She shivered, tried harder to fight the wave of pleasure that washed over her. If she gave in and let the orgasm that was drowning her claim her, she knew herself too well. She’d shake badly, out of control, she always did and even more so with the monster this one would be, and lock herself in and seal her fate. It was almost all she could do to stop herself from surrendering to that orgasm, a bitter, delicious pleasure that was why she was here, and a mistake that would likely be her last.
Jeremy, her boyfriend, was in the rocks behind her and off to the side, out of her sight, watching her. If she locked herself in, would he let her die? They had set up a video camera in the sand between the ocean and the quicksand and it was filming every second of her journey in glorious high-def, a little off to the side so it was clear how horribly her breasts were being stretched. With that much resolution Jeremy could crop the video to show her, her naked body from the front, her breasts stretching and the looks on her face as she was slowly pulled toward and then into the depths. Snuff films actually could make quite a bit of money, but with the obvious risk to Jeremy that it would show what happened to her. She was not happy that her whole naked body was being filmed in glorious super-duper-HD, and with the wide stance she had to take to safely pull against the rope it was plenty good viewing. She had a marvelous body, nothing wrong with it and plenty of guys liked looking at as much of it as she would show them, but still… Then again, either she’d make it out of this and she could control the film, or she wouldn’t and it wouldn’t matter.
And Jeremy. It was funny, it wasn’t Carlos, or Scott, or Tony; she’d never had a boyfriend named Jeremy. He was a melting pot, a generic man in her life but nobody in particular or real. If she screwed up and got her wrists locked in, would he save her? He didn’t have to, that was part of the game. When planning this she had made him specifically promise, even videoed her telling him to on his cell phone, that whatever they were doing tomorrow, it was her express wish that he not interfere in any way no matter what happened to her. He loved her and she definitely loved him, their sex was great, including last night and this morning, and it wasn’t out of the question that he could, should she get trapped, run in and cut the rope and save her. It was an unspoken given that if he was going to rescue her, it would be only at the very last heartbeat.
The rope gave a tug and she lurched forward with a yelp of pain. She felt the magnets start to grab the pins, desperately pulled away, and after a terrifying moment she succeeded. Very, very close. She was shaking after that for multiple reasons.
She wondered what Jeremy was planning to do. It was agreed; she would not ask, would not know, and he would not tell and he hadn’t. If she locked in, a black plastic cover over the release button in the middle of the cylinder popped off. Recessed and with her hands locked to the sides it was useless to her but anyone else could push the button in and free the pins from the magnets and catches. He could see the cover was gone or still in place; he knew even from his distance if she was locked in. He could wait to run up on her until it was too late and he couldn’t get to her without dooming himself. He could just watch her struggle as she disappeared under the sand. One could get somewhere between 25 and 50 grand for a snuff film, probably more because of her curvy figure all naked and the scenario.
She had chickened out at the last moment, as she was tying the weight to the rope. She asked him to promise that if she got locked in, that he would immediately come rescue her. Fun was fun, but it wouldn’t be fun at that point. He pointed out that part of the thrill for her was not knowing for sure what he’d do and he wasn’t going to ruin it for her. If she was certain he’d save her if she got locked in, the risk would be gone for her and he knew she didn’t want that. He acknowledged her wishes but said he had already decided what he would do if she got locked in and wasn’t changing his mind. She wasn’t happy at that but knew he was right and said nothing further on it.
She had caught him talking to Sandra last week, tall thin Sandra, with long blonde hair, miles-long legs and a bright, cheery smile. At the party she was in a tight blouse and a very short skirt and no hose and standing closer than she should have been next to Jeremy, and Jeremy wasn’t doing a thing about it. They seemed to be having a good conversation until they noticed she was watching them. Maybe Jeremy, who had fought her long and hard against this for a long time, had decided this was an easy way to get rid of her so he could be with Sandra. He might have concluded it was better to be with someone normal like Sandy as opposed to someone who wanted to do crazy things like this, no matter how good the sex was. He could find good sex with Sandy too.
She had a flash of a scene: Jeremy and Sandra naked on his bed where Gina had been with him so many times before. Sandy underneath him, moaning in pleasure, arms and ankles wrapped around him as he pounded her hard into a nearly-screaming orgasm. That thought almost pushed Gina into her own. And that would have locked her wrists behind her, and been fatal.
Maybe she should. Push in, let the pins lock. She fought the temptation to do just that. Seal her fate. If Jeremy still loved her, he’d rescue her and not let her die. If he was done with her, maybe walking into the wet sand and disappearing forever would be easier. A sudden jerk on the rope nearly made her decision for her.
No. While there was life… She’d win. Maybe she’d act like she had slipped and locked her hands behind her at the last minute just to see what he’d do. She could probably go ankle deep or a little more into the quicksand and still roll out of the danger area. If her hands were free, no problem. If her hands were caught, goodbye. She’d probably stagger a bit out into the quicksand lake, then be forced a step or two further before she sank too far to move forward any more. Then the sand would swallow her, first up to her pussy, then over her stomach, then over her breasts, then only her long brown hair would be left on the surface, and then not even that. Nothing to show she had ever been there. She shivered despite herself.
It had been hard enough to get Jeremy to agree to come do this with her. She had to threaten, hint that if Jeremy wasn’t willing maybe Andy would.
Andy, she thought as she surrendered a step. Between Tony and Jeremy, the Gina on the beach had gone to a college party and got drunk off her ass. And wound up all night in bed with Andy, doing things she cringed and hated to think about even now. They had found an empty bedroom in the frat house where the party was at and locked the door behind them. She didn’t even really like Andy that much. He was cute enough but there was no spark between them for her even though there had been plenty of spark on his side. She wound up naked on the bed with her legs spread wide open, her party dress long gone and she hadn’t worn anything underneath it. She was so drunk she let him take pictures of her that way, an incredible, mind-blowing mistake.
He was all interested in getting into her, of course, and she was holding him off as long as possible just for the fun of it. She definitely was looking forward to feeling him coming deep inside of her, have no doubt of that, but she wanted more kissing, more snuggling, more contact for a while until she was ready.
He put up with it pretty well, even though he was unhappy. It went on for a while and she was enjoying the attention. If she had been less drunk she probably would have been more merciful to him, but she wasn’t and kept making him wait even though he was making that very hard on her. Then they discovered ropes tied to the bottom of the headboard and footboard with loops on the close ends. Drunk, she mischievously dared him to use them on her and pointed out that once she was tied up and stretched out he could do anything he wanted to her and she couldn’t stop him. The ropes were applied to her wrists and ankles amazingly fast.
But even despite her earlier cruelty he didn’t just climb on top of her and shove himself in. Wiggling seductively once she was tied spread-eagle, he took his time, now that the overall process was firmly in his control. He French-kissed her for a while longer, then moved down to nuzzling and sucking on her breasts while continuing to rub her between her legs. Maybe it was revenge; If it was it worked great because before too long she was begging him to fuck her hard. He finally did, slammed her hard like a rabbit, and pulled out enough to decorate her bush and pussy crack with his sperm. And then took some more pictures of her tied up like that. He let her go and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, she blissfully happy that her needs had been met and that she had met the needs of the man lying beside her and holding her.
She woke up the next morning with a start, alone in the bed, and almost screamed. Andy, and all those naked pictures of her, and damn, damn, damn, damn, naked pictures smiling with her legs spread wide and pictures of her tied hand and foot to the bed with his cum coating her pussy hair and dripping out of her. She touched herself down there and the dry residue was still there. She was so screwed, in multiple ways. He had a good time last night; he’d surely use the pictures to force her to sleep with him more.
She shook her head in a soundless “no” even though there was no one else to see. He was cute enough, seemed to be a nice person, and damn good in bed, but when she was sober, he just didn’t do anything for her. And if he was blackmailing her, he’d be like any other guy and would be forcing her to have sex with him every day if he could, and he could.
She was terrified. If he couldn’t find her he couldn’t threaten her. She became paranoid to avoid him. The thought of avoiding him for the next two and a half years was ludicrous but she was going to try. Then two days later at lunch she turned around at one point and he was right there, waiting for her to do the turn-around she just did.
“Gina!” He started. He sounded normal, even casual, she thought as her heart sank to her heels. Probably keeping it cool, will talk around it because there are so many people nearby. She braced herself. To react badly or just walk away would be to challenge him to use the pictures. Oh damn. Just let me die now, Gina thought to herself, looking quietly and wordlessly into his face. She really couldn’t spare the next two hours for her to be naked on her back in a bed somewhere crying silently while he pounded her and grunted until he blew his rocks off into her. Inside, she shuddered. Maybe she could hurry it along.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” He continued in innocent earnest. No trace of a leer or condescension in his voice. Yet. “You know, you’re an awfully hard person to find.” Yeah, especially when I ran in the opposite direction twice when I saw you.
“I just have to say, I had a really awesome, wonderful, beautiful time Friday night. I know we were both drunk, but I’d like a chance to show you what we’re like without alcohol.” Or I’ll start publishing pictures and destroy you.
“I keep thinking about you, how really beautiful you are, and I’ve got to spend more time with you.” Or I’ll destroy you. Gina couldn’t take it anymore and erupted into tears. Andy was right in front of her; it was shitty of fate that her abuser was the only one for her to cry into, but he was there and she could curl up into him and let it flow. On the good side, people saw her crying and Andy holding her and comforting her, and he was, and gave them some extra room so they wouldn’t be close enough to hear when he started making threats and could realize what she was going through.
She finally stopped, looked up at him through blurry eyes and a tear-streaked face. He had let her cling to him and cry into his shirt; he had held her and stroked her hair and spoke quietly to her; at least there was some compassion in him; it might not be totally bad.
“Gina, what was that all about?” He asked gently. “Yeah, we were drunk but we had a great time Friday night. You’re beautiful and I sure did. All I asked is to see you again. Surely that is not that bad a thought?”
She looked up at him. “And if I say no? I can’t say no, to anything you ask. You’ve got all those pictures of me.”
He looked shocked, like he wanted to take a step back. Nice acting. I almost believe you. “Look, Gina, yes I have the pictures and I love them and you have such an awesome figure and it’s a fantastic memory of a fantastic woman, and I’m keeping them, but I have no, zero intention of blackmailing you. I’m not and I never will.” She hugged him tighter. She hadn’t even dared dream she might hear those words.
“But I take it from your words that your answer is no.” She hugged him tighter and held her breath; maybe it was about to turn ugly after all. She looked up at him, watched him steel his face. Ok, here it comes after all. If that’s the only way you can get me you’ll take it. I understand. She closed her eyes and held him and waited.
“It’s just…” she started, tentatively. “You don’t do anything for me when I’m sober. You’re cute and you’re hellaciously good in bed, don’t worry a heartbeat about that. If you’re that good drunk then hell….” She forced a smile up at him to try to ease what surely must hurt. “If all I want is a roll in the hay, you’re the one I’m calling, for sure. But I don’t do that and don’t think I ever will. So if I have a choice, no.”
He forced his own smile to ease her fears. He started to say something twice, stopped before really getting a word out. “Ok. You’ve got to understand, you’ve been hard to get off my mind and will be even harder now, but thank you for being honest with me. If you ever do want the casual thing, I’d be there in a heartbeat for you, and I guarantee you you’d have a good time. I may stay away from you, to see you and not be able to hold you is going to hurt a lot. But you’ve said no and words mean things.” He stopped, looked down at her and the pain on his face was obvious. “If you ever even think about changing your mind on that answer, come find me. I’ll make you very happy you took the chance.”
She looked up at him. “You’re not going to blackmail me?”
He gave a little laugh though a painful smile. “No matter how much I want you, and no matter how good you feel, even now, that’s rape. You said no. Don’t get me wrong; I want your body; you have an incredible figure and a killer mind to go with it. But I’m not after just your body, and I don’t really do just sex either. If I can’t have all of you it’s better to have nothing of you at all. Except the memories.” He started to pull away from her, got a step, and turned back.
“It’s not someone else, is it? I could make you happier…” She shook her head no and he was gone.
He had kept his word. A couple people knew she had spent that night with Andy; nobody ever mentioned pictures to her and true to his word he largely stayed away. She saw him with other girls close to him from time to time and was happy for him and envious of what she knew the girl was getting (if she were smart) but she had started up with Jeremy by then and was happy there.
She had to wave Andy at Jeremy (Jeremy knew she and Andy had spent the night and had questioned her on it early in their relationship. She had told him truthfully that it had just been a drunken one-night stand without going into details. Everyone in the frat house that night knew they had spent the night with each other, so that was no surprise but Jeremy didn’t know any details. Apparently, Andy, bless his soul, could keep a secret) to get him to agree to come out here with her and that almost didn’t work. Andy was without female company right now and seemed to have hardened a bit. If she asked Andy he surely would, but, she pointed out to Jeremy, it was an overnight trip out here and giving him her body was sure to happen, both the night before and the morning of, just like she and Jeremy had. She’d have to ask Andy a few weeks in advance so he could keep open the time, and she doubted he would miss the point that he had her over a barrel again (he had come to her one point after several months and told her that a girlfriend had found the pictures despite his best efforts and deleted them; they were gone now and she was safe) and little to lose and might not want to wait for the trip out here to ask for her body. It would be potentially suicidal for Gina to refuse, to do anything but pretend it was the best sex she’d ever had in her life and sleep with him every time he wanted to until their trip out here. She loved Jeremy and would really, really hate to do that. Would you please? He finally relented.
She looked. Fifty feet to the edge of the quicksand. The salty ocean wind blew and gently teased her long hair, brushed her naked body but did not chill it. She pushed the pins in. It was a game, a possibly deadly game. How far could she go? How close to the edge could she get and not go over the cliff? Just a little closer. The magnets had already grabbed for the pins and she had fought it back. She could dance on the edge of the fire and not get burned.
Forty feet. The sand between her toes was now wetter, squishier, a warning of things to come. The dark line where the sand got wet was clear enough. Probably the outer foot of the quicksand circle
Was safe, just the spillover from the actual deep pool. Enough for her toes to sink into but no further. Not deep enough to keep her from being pulled closer to the center, deeper into the quicksand pool where she could and would sink much further than past her ankles.
Thirty-five feet. Still playing the game, seeing how close she could come to the cobra without feeling it strike. She’d let both feet get within the darker, wetter circle in a little while and then pull her hands free, untie the rope, then roll safely out of the pit if she couldn’t just walk out.
Then a horribly timed jerk on her breasts ruined her. She had been playing, had the pins close, seeing if she could get the pins close enough to feel the magnet but not close enough for it to grab. Dancing on the razor’s edge, especially this close to the quicksand, but her own desires were driving her. Then the jerk suddenly came. She yelled, staggered two steps forward, and heard it. The loud, ominous, final sound of the catches locking into place. Click! Pop! A frantic pull at her wrists confirmed the truth: she was locked.
She looked back, there it was on the sand behind her, the piece of plastic on the cylinder that covered the release. It popped off automatically when the magnet engaged and captured, revealing that surface-mount button that was her only hope now. All someone had to do to release the pins was push it in, but since her wrists were locked to either side of the cylinder, there was no way to reach it and no way, even by pressing things into it, which she didn’t have out here in the sand anyways, to release it. It might as well not be there. But it did provide positive proof to Jeremy, even at a distance, that she was locked.
It wasn’t a game anymore. She could no longer just untie the rope around the chain and walk away. She looked around desperately for Jeremy, losing a step, a precious step or two in doing so. Couldn’t he see her? Didn’t he know she was at risk now? Was he even watching?
Gina had read two different versions of that story. The woman got locked in, just like she was now, and faced her fate. In one version the woman’s boyfriend rescued her at the last moment. In the other she was pulled into the quicksand and was gone. She desperately wished she knew which version she was now living out. Yeah, she reminded herself as she pulled frantically and uselessly to get her wrists free until they ached, it was only her quiet place and she wasn’t really here. But here, the sunlight was warm and the wind blew her hair and across her brutally stretched breasts and now her wrists ached. She wondered what it would be like to be swallowed by the quicksand in her quiet place… dying in her quiet place…
She looked around again, looked hard at where she expected Jeremy to be and saw nothing. He certainly wasn’t coming to release her now that she’d gotten locked and stuck. With dread, she wondered if he was coming at all. Until he released her, if he released her, she had to go as if he wasn’t going to.
She pulled back hard. Maybe she could pull the weight out of the sand. She had to try. The weight must be forty feet under the surface by now. It hurt like hell to just fight, to just slow its descent. How could she pull it back out? Could she pull it back out? She lunged against it, it hurt so bad she was openly crying. Stretching her breasts on the ivy trellis back then was a feather compared to this but had to try, the alternative was to…
Was Jeremy even there? Maybe he had decided he was done with her and was gone and she was doomed. The video camera would tell him what happened to her; either she’d get loose and be pissed at him for leaving her or she’d be gone without even a body to tie him to her. If he did the smart thing and deleted the video, no one would ever know, no one would ever find her now. The sea wind and the sunshine that had been warm a second ago now felt cold. The dark spot in the sand in front of her was now a monster, waiting to eat her alive. Step into it, sink into it, disappear forever without a trace. She pulled with everything she had; the pain it inflicted didn’t matter any longer. If her breasts were screaming before this was beyond imagining. Insane. It was all a game a moment ago. Now it was deadly serious.
Where was Jeremy? A horrible thought, maybe he had invited Sandra out here to watch his idiot current girlfriend off herself. Maybe he was behind a sand dune screwing Sandra right now. While the monster sucked her in and ate her, alone and helpless, screaming and crying and doomed the entire way…
Stop that! Fight! He loves you. He will rescue you. You know it wouldn’t be until the last moment. You’re not there yet. Keep fighting, just in case. Keep pulling. The pain in her breasts was unimaginable, she was pulling so hard. And then the line gave a tremendous tug, and despite everything she could do she was pulled another step forward. Another step closer. Jeremy wasn’t coming to save her. She was dead; she just hadn’t died yet but she would in minutes, alone, unnoticed. She wasn’t going to be able to stop this. Merciless sand swallowing her without a trace she had ever lived. No sign of Jeremy. A burst of pain on her breasts and she lost another step; the weight was dropping faster. Twenty-five feet. She screamed.
The sudden removal of the weight stretching her breasts brought her back to the garage, the scream still echoing in her ears and she realized she had actually screamed in the real world. Carlos had disconnected the bucket and was quickly moving to her. With no tension on them the nipple nooses were off in a second and he was letting loose her wrists and ankles. She pulled up to climb into his arms, hug him desperately, but the fright was passing quickly. It was just her quiet place, she told him. It seemed so real, and she was in a bad situation, but it wasn’t real and he was here and she was safe. It was all right now. Her heart rate, safe in his arms, was returning to normal.
“Yeah, you looked like you had gone back there, and I decided to let you stay. You were struggling a bit but it didn’t seem to be a problem until you screamed.”
“Sorry, bad trip.”
“Do I get to hear about it someday?”
“Maybe over lunch. How close are we? I think we can pause the game for a bit.”
“About an hour overdue.”
“Now you’re torturing me. Let’s go get something to eat and get me away from here for a little while, quiaff?”
He smiled; she had taught him what that meant. “Aff. Maybe Nelson’s Deli?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She wore a really tight sports bra under her t-shirt to lunch; he understood. They talked over lunch, quietly in the deli where no one else could hear them. She told him what she had gone through, how real it felt, how easy it was to lose that it wasn’t real when you were there, a really vivid dream.
“Yeah. I could see you struggling while you lay there. It was interesting to watch but then you screamed.”
She smiled. After she had realized she had a quiet place that night on the ivy trellis, she had told him that if she ever went there her preference was that he let her be there as long as possible, but use his best judgment and she promised to never get on him for whatever decision he made. She knew he loved her and would protect her, but he had no clue where she was or what situation she was in.
“So,” she asked with a smile. “As your kidnap victim, am I through the worst of it yet? What else does your victim have to go through before daddy’s people arrive at 12 noon tomorrow?”
Carlos smiled and gave a little laugh. “Oh, there are still some real challenges ahead for you. Some of them have been tough, but at least one coming up is even tougher, and I doubt any of the remaining ones will be an easy walk.”
“At least tell me you’re going to lay off my poor tortured breasts for a while.”
He shrugged. “Sorry. I’m trying to break you and get away with my life. I’ve still got a few interesting… things, machines, and ideas to try out on you. Time is running out; your Daddy’s people might be getting close and that could make a person desperate. No mercy for any part of you. I think unless you come to your senses and give in you should expect to be wearing sports bras for at least the rest of the week.” He watched Gina shiver at that. “I’ll still get the proper code and be gone well before noon tomorrow.”
Wow, Gina thought. That being true, the next 24 hours of her life were likely to be the craziest ever. She smiled seductively. “Oh no you won’t. And I’m going to watch you go down and laugh.”
Carlos just smiled. He wondered if she would just give up now if she knew what was coming. But ok. He had a plan and a goal and a willing participant to fight him for it. She’d done incredibly well so far. It’d be tough, but it was perfectly possible she’d make it.