Chapter 7 of the "Kelli" Series
a continuing story by Robert Deane of DeaneProductions
As David remembered, it had taken a while for the grogginess to clear from his head. When he first began to awaken, as an almost natural instinct he had tried to stretch his arms and legs. But that had not been possible, his legs unable to move and a throbbing ache in his arms. The next attempt, in quick succession, was to open his eyes. Again, David had not found success. Then he tried speech, but also found it was blocked, unable to close his mouth or even open it wider, to make any intelligible sounds.
Had David, at that moment, been able to see himself, what he would have seen would have surprised, and possibly even shocked him. He was laying on the king size bed of his bedroom, naked.
The ache he had begun to feel in his arms had been caused by the weight of his body, his torso, as it pressed down on his arms. He had been unable to move his arms because of a tight---very tight---rope wrapped around his wrists that held them togther, palm to palm. Another rope had been tied across his elbows, then cinched tight, that pulled his arms and elbows towards each other. Not touching, but so close that David had unwillingly been forced to arch his body upward.
As the fog had continued to lift from his mind, David had realized that movement of his arms was not something that was even remotely possible.
Maybe his legs, he had thought, in his semi-confused state of mind. But that possibility had come to a quick end, as David pulled, tugged, on his legs, also without success. Again had he been able to view his body on the bed, he would have seen that rope had been fastened, again very tightly, almost cruelly, around David's ankles, with his legs spread wide apart, the other end of each end tied to the baseboard of the bed. No, that was another impossible option.
But why could he not talk, not speak, nor even close his mouth? Had David seen the reflection of his body in the mirror on the ceiling above the bed, he would have discovered that his mouth was filled with an O-ring gag---a round, metal loop, covered in leather, forced inside his mouth and then kept in place by leather straps fastened at the nape of his neck. The ring was large enough that it had forced David to keep his mouth wide open. David could neither close his mouth nor open it wider. As the seconds had ticked by, the ache in his jaw began to set in.
His eyes, his sight, had also been completely restricted, by a leather blindfold pressed against his eyes and strapped tight against his face by leather straps fastened behind his head. The tightness that he finally felt around his neck, which had kept his chin raised, he would later discover to be a wide, black-leather posture collar.
How David got there, whatever had happened, was
not up until that moment something that he had either desired or experienced.
The cruetly of the position had begun to set in, along with the ache in
his arms and his jaw. One thing David was able to do was shake his head
and make unintellible sounds. He did both, quickly and loudly.
Up until that moment, that was the only sound that David had heard in the room. But it had been quickly followed by a whimpering, almost pleading sound, from somewhere else in the room. David had not been able to tell from where the sound came, but if he had to guess, at that moment he would have guessed---correctly---that it had come from somewhere above his head.
There it was again, that whimper. Each of the several times it had been repeated, it had begun to sound more, and more, familiar. Davd's mind almost overloaded a millisecond after he realized where he had heard that sound before. He had heard it many times over the past year. It was Dawn, his lady Dawn, making that pleading, whimpering noise.
What David then heard, and felt, in rapid succession was a sound that he recognized as the crack of the tail of a leather whip, somewhere above his body, then the intense pain of that tail as it brutally attacked his chest. If his screaming mind had not already reached overload as he arched his body in pain, it was sent spinning over the edge of reality as he heard Kelli's voice, from somewhere near the left side of the bed.
"Hello, David," she had said in a firm, almost growling, tone. "Welcome home, little boy, you and your little slut. Now you are in MY world."
As Kelli recounted the story to me, it was only
a few days after that first telephone call from Dawn to Kelli that the
two of them finally met. Kelli had suggested a first meeting in neutral
location, perhaps for coffee. But Dawn, in her apparent innocence, had
suggested hers and David's apartment.
"And please remember to bring them, what did David call them, the bondage toys?"
That was a one of the phrases that were forever burned into Kelly's memory. Not only did Dawn mention David, but in the same breath she mentioned the items of sexual play that, to Kelli, were almost sacred. Each item, as simple as a long piece of rope or as complex as a headharness ballgag, had a special meaning and memory to Kelli. She said that she could, at that moment, feel the anger grow inside inside of her as the blonde bimbo---Kelli interchangably referred to her as "the slut" or the "blonde bimbo"---talked about those sacred implements of teasing and torment in such a simple manner.
Their first meeting had been friendly, from Dawn's
recollection almost like two college roomates meeting after a long absense.
Kelli's body was covered with her usual clothing, the skin tight, faded
jeans and the
several-sizes-too-small t-shirt that accentuated her chest. Her black hair, which as always reflected any light in the room, had been pulled back into a long ponytail. The only indication of something different---apparently unnoticed by Dawn--was the four-inch stiletto heels.
Dawn wore a long night-shirt type t-shirt, emblazoned on the front with the name of the local sports team, and blaming it on the summer heat, nothing else save for a tiny pair of white, cotton panties. Bare feet, bare breasted beneath the night shirt, Dawn occasionally exposed her trim and tanned thighs as she sat on the couch and crossed her legs. Even her butt would sometimes peek into view, on those moments that Dawn would rise from the couch, turn away from Kelli, and almost prance towards the kithen of the apartment to refill their wine glasses.
Kelli had tried to remain calm through their conversation,
as Dawn spoke of her discussions with David.
"He said something about bondage, whatever that is. And he also said that, how did he say it, it was a lot of fun when the two of you did it."
Again, hearing that irreverant tone from Dawn, Kelli nearly exploded. She was, she told me later, sure that her blood pressure had risen off of the scale. All she could think of was hanging that slut, out of the apartment window, by her toes. But that, and perhaps some things similar, would have to wait. At that moment, Kelli began her lessons in control.
Kelli tried to her best to explain "bondage" to
Dawn. But for whatever reason, Dawn seemed not to understand, so it was
time to demonstrate it. Even at this point, Kelli remained cautious, yet
"Let me show you how it's done", Kelli had offered to Dawn, in as innocent a tone of voice as possible. "I'll let you tie me up, but I will tell you how."
With Dawn bobbing her head, up and down, vigorously like a teenager who had been promised the family car, a credit card and a trip to the mail, Kelli reached down from her seat on the couch and opened the leather bag that contained hers and David's toys. She explained to Dawn each one, as she removed it from the bag. The rope, to tie an arm, a leg, or some other part of the body, black leather straps also good for restraint, she told Dawn. Several collars, which Kelli obligingly pressed against her own neck, including a posture collar. The blindfolds, which Kelli this time pressed against Dawn's face and eyes, to give her the feelings of the sight deprivation. And, of course, the gags, ranging from pieces of cloth for the cleave gag to ballgags, including the headharness gag, and the O-ring gag.
What remained in the bag, hidden deep inside it, was the leather hood and the whips, the bullwhip and the the cat-o-nine tails, which Kelli had recently purchased.
Not too many minutes later, Kelli was voluntarily on the floor, kneeling, facing towards the couch, with her wrists tied, somewhat secure, behind her back. The rope around her upper arms was snug, though not tight, at least not nearly tight enough for Kelli. Yet she remembered thinking that she was fairly impressed. At least the bimbo knew how to tie a knot or two.
As Dawn's false sense of confidence gained in her relationship with Kelli, she suggested that Kelli take her turn. As she put it "now it's your turn to tie me up." The giggle that punctuated the end of that statement had told Kelli that not only was Dawn a bimbo---maybe a bimbo with a great body, but still a bimbo---but that she could not hold her liquor. Using that to her advantage, several innocent sounding suggestions from Kelli resulted in Dawn this time kneeling on the floor, her wrists tied palm to palm and her elbows tied, touching. Kelli said that, at that point, she made a mental note about Dawn's flexibility, as an enemy army would in gaining and storing intelligence information about an enemy. The afternoon visit ended with Dawn sitting in a chair, now wearing only the cotton panties, her arms strapped to the side of the chairs, and her ankles similarly strapped to the legs, now wearing a medium-sized ballgag. It had taken only a comment of Kelli---how bondage is much better when the ropes or straps are pressed against the skin---for Dawn to remove the night shirt.
As Dawn giggled from behind the gag and looked up at Kelli---who stood in front of the chair, her hands on her hips in an almost defiant pose---Dawn's eyes shone as she slid her butt back and forth teasingly across the chair. That it was an invitation, Kelli had no doubt. But it was not one that Kelli had intended nor had any interest in acceptance.
Her interest, and the ever-growing dark side, was to be saved for David.
About this story, the last chapter of the Kelli series, here's something that you might want to use as an intro to this last chapter:
Almost every author goes through a dark period at some point in his or her life. And if they continue to write during that period, the results usually reflect that dark side. Yet it is also only through admitting that there was a dark side that it can be banished. This last chapter of the Kelli series pushes Kelli, David and Dawn over that same edge. Read it at your own peril.
FROM HERE THERE IS NO FUTURE
an alternative ending to the "Kelli" Series
by Robert Deane
It was sometime in the evening--the exact time did not matter, because David had lost all track of time--that the cloth was pressed against David's face, covering his mouth and nose. He fought the valiant fight, trying not to breathe in what he suspected was chloroform. But it was a losing battle, his mind surrendered to the darkness.
When he awoke, he found himself tied in a new position, somehow more evil than the first. His arms had been tied behind the back of the high back chair, his wrists palm to palm, and a rope again trying to pull his elbows to the point of contact. His legs had spread wide, almost obscenely, to the sides of the chair, anchored by rope to the back legs of the chair. His mouth was filled with an oversized red rubber ball, designed more for training and pain than silence, the ball pulled deep into his mouth by the black leather straps. As his body began to arise from the chloroform-induced fog, he began to feel the pain, in his wrists, his elbows and his jaw.
But there was another pain, one, which David had never experienced. As the screaming sensation ran through his body, David was finally able to pinpoint the source of the pain: his nipples. Shaking his head, no, a man's nipples are not meant to be clamped. Yet Kelli had done that; not large clamps, but tight, maddeningly tight, and, as David would shortly discover, a large lock hung on the chain between the nipple clamps.
Then he saw her: Kelli, her hands on her hips, the defiant, almost vicious, look in her eyes, as she stared at David. "So, little boy, you are finally awake." Those words were almost spat at him. "I'm glad, because you almost missed the show."
The show???? Those words bounced in David's mind. He wanted to scream: WHAT SHOW? But the gag prevented the words from coming out; only unintelligible sounds would escape.
And then, as if as a bolt of lightening hit his head, he thought: Dawn? Where is Dawn? Where is she and what has Kelli done to her?
As if reading his mind, Kelli stepped aside, clearing David's view of
the bed. And then he saw her, his precious, beautiful Dawn, facing him.
But, no, it wasn't her, it could not be her. Gone was the long, beautiful
blonde hair, her hair cut short to less than an inch. And she was tied,
laying on the bed, but in a hog-tie that even David could not believe.
Her wrists had been tied, palm-to-palm, with more rope around her touching
elbows. Her crossed ankle had been pulled towards her wrists, but passed
them, tied to her elbows. A head harness ball gag covered her head, with
another rope tied from the top of her harness back to her ankles, cruelly
pulling her head back. Tied as she was, she was forced to arch her body,
exposing her breasts, those full breasts that had provided David with many
hours of enjoyment. And then he saw them, her nipples, but not like before.
had been pierced, with bright silver nipple rings in each nipple. Again he wanted to scream; again the huge ballgag prevented it.
As if it was not bad enough, David made one more discovery, as he looked into Dawn's eyes. The look that he loved, the softness, was gone, as she stared at David, with a look more than blank, a look almost of hatred. As if Kelli was again reading David's, she began to fill in the blanks. "She now hates you, David. She blames you for everything that has happened to her, and for everything that is about to happen to her."
As he again looked at his lady Dawn, he saw the coldness now in her eyes
"It's all your fault, David" Kelli continued, again in that menacing tone. "I had to tell her, that you were the one who called me, told me that you needed money, and to get that money agreed to sell her into bondage slavery."
As each word sunk in, David began to shake his head, slowly at first and then almost violently. Dawn cannot believe this, not for a moment. But as he looked back into her eyes, he knew the Kelli had somehow convinced her of this great lie. As he again tried to scream, the words still remained blocked by the ballgag.
It was then that he saw it, that cloth in Kelli's hand, with that same smell of chloroform. As she walked towards him, she spoke the words that would forever echo in his mind, "When you awake, she and I will be gone, David. Don't look for her, David, not if you don't want to find what she will have become."
When he awoke, and after what seemed like hours of struggling, he was finally able to free himself from the ropes.
He never saw Dawn or Kelli again.