by Stephen Charles

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© Copyright 2017 - Stephen Charles - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; M/f; hist; corset; bond; rope; gag; scarves; blindfold; earplugs; sendep; carriage; institute; treatment; cons; X


Solitary confinement, bodily restraints, sensory deprivation, tailored uniforms and the selective use of vaginal massagers are the peculiar and secretive methods employed by psychoanalyst Doctor Peter Rhodes, a former student of Sigmund Freud and the founder and sole practitioner at the Institute of Female Behaviour, a man zealously committed to liberating the sexually repressed young ladies of London society within the strict, private and protective environment of his Institute.


Samantha Taylor sat in her drawing room patiently awaiting her carriage. She was a typically demure young lady of the Victorian era dressed immaculately in her tailored suit. Normally her outfit would be accompanied by a fashionable parasol but her present circumstances prevented this from happening for Samantha Taylor was tightly bound and gagged.

Her slender, athletic arms had been welded behind her with thin, hemp rope and they in turn had been trussed tightly to her body by double strands of rope that had been firmly cinched, these ropes encircling her torso above and below her breasts and around her corseted waist. Her mouth was filled with a silk scarf that had been rolled in a ball and this in turn was held by a further scarf that had been tied firmly between her teeth. Another neatly folded scarf then covered her face from just below her nose to just above her chin, this final scarf tied so tightly that Samantha’s cheeks bulged from beneath it. She sat there patiently, knowing she was soon to be escorted to an institute of behavioural reform and as she waited she thought of how her present circumstances had come to pass.

Samantha was an intelligent, athletic and stylish twenty one year old who despite her privileged lifestyle had become progressively angry in her later years. A natural beauty, she was a star physics student and champion athlete at Oxford, her family’s wealth allowing her to indulge herself in the tailored fashion of her day, the restrictiveness of her form-fitting clothes appealing to her extreme nature. Yet somehow these advantages were not enough, something vital was lacking and to counter this inner turmoil she continually pushed her boundaries, the pain on her training runs one of the few things that truly satisfied her.

Samantha was especially vexed by the patriarchal attitude of her male lecturers and continually fought with them until finally, after one particular act of insubordination she was threatened with expulsion causing her father, a major patron of the University to intervene on her behalf, his action giving her one final chance at redemption.

Dismayed by his daughter’s impending fate Samantha’s father reacted forcefully, instructing her to suspend her university attendance and immediately seek advice from her mentor Pastor Miller, a pious yet learned man whom they both respected, Samantha willingly complying to her father’s wishes realising that something had to be done if ever she was to rid herself of her destructive rage.

Samantha sat in the parlour of Pastor Miller’s manse in her tailored finery, her gloved hands resting comfortably on her parasol. She appeared to be her normal, cheerful self but remained shadowed by her anger, desperately describing her continued frustration to the Pastor who responded by recommending a radical solution.

A progressive, clinical institute had previously been brought to his attention and it was based on a new science called psychoanalysis. The institute employed extreme solutions and had an amazing success rate with troubled, rebellious ladies of Samantha’s social standing and after showing her the brochures from the establishment he was taken aback by her enthusiasm for the project.

Samantha especially loved the fact that the program had a scientific basis and that patients would not only be treated individually but would be subjected to both cognitive and physical trials privately administered at the Institute, all aimed at discovering a patient’s basic nature before diagnosing the appropriate treatment.

The specifics of the program were vague but its extreme elements intrigued Samantha as did its founder Doctor Peter Rhodes, an academically brilliant man who had studied under Freud in Vienna where he had received his doctorate in psychoanalysis. However as there were a long list of applicants seeking enrolment before her, Samantha viewed her chances of acceptance as being very slim.

That was why she was so excited when Pastor Miller gave her the good news of her successful application, informing her that she would soon commence her treatment, a treatment that would forever change her life.


Samantha, her family and her butler Frederick had followed Doctor Peter Rhodes’s instructions to the letter. The family were absent for her collection while Frederick had meticulously bound and gagged his mistress as directed, Samantha in turn wearing a travelling suit with matching bonnet and gloves for her confinement.

Prior to her retraint Samantha had felt the thin, hemp rope that had been delivered that day and was surprised by the softness and pliability of its texture, a quality that belied its strength, the very thought of her tailored body being so restrained by the strength of these ropes making her heart skip a beat and she found herself quite excited by the prospect of her impending chastisement.

She was particularly intrigued with the precise manner that Frederick used when binding her, the most salient point being that it was only when cinching the ropes, i.e. when tying at ninety degrees to the initial ties that Frederick was instructed to exert his full vigour which had the effect of making Samantha’s bonds comparatively comfortable without compromising her security. She had enjoyed the tying of her elegant body, especially when the cinches were vigorously applied but also because a faint stimulation had progressively overtaken her whilst being restrained.

“What is happening?” she thought, carefully suppressing any display of emotion in front of Frederick whom she knew would be even more mortified than herself about the tiny seepage that was occurring in her private regions, a sensation she had never before experienced, the sense of vulnerability stealthily overpowering and exciting her. She shifted about as best she could on the chair, trying somehow to alleviate this powerful, though nuanced emotion and for the first time in her life she felt completely out of control, entranced by its magnetic, pleasurable power. It was at this precise moment that Frederick entered the room with a man dressed entirely in black.

“Miss Samantha, allow me to introduce Doctor Peter Rhodes.”

A red-cheeked Samantha stirring from her reverie swivelled on her chair to see an attractive, clean shaven man standing before her displaying a positive and determined attitude. He was tall, at least six feet and his ruffled dark hair that complemented his olive skin gave him a boyish charm. However the most noticeable of his features were his fierce brown eyes that immediately fixed upon her with a rare intensity.

“Good heavens,” she thought, “such extremity.”, his sheer presence shocking her back to reality.

Samantha returned his intimidatory look, her eyes fixing upon this figure of authority over her strictly gagged mouth, determined not to display any weakness despite the vulnerability of her situation.

Ignoring her defiant display Peter approached Samantha and proceeded to inspect her, barely touching her as he felt the tension in her ropes. It was as though he was inspecting a package Samantha thought, which is exactly what he was doing as Samantha Taylor at this stage was nothing more than another case to this man of science. He moved her torso forward as he inspected the bonds at her rear and then sat her up straight as he felt the ropes around her breasts.

“Hmm good and tight but not too restrictive on her blood flow, you have done well good sir.” he said, addressing Frederick but not taking his eyes from his inspection.

“And you Miss Taylor,” he said, as he continued with his examination, “no pain, I trust?”

He looked at Samantha impassively as she shook her head, reassuring him.

“What a strange one he is,” thought Samantha as she watched him carry on with his inspection, observing his complete lack of emotion. “so focused, so seemingly unstruck by my femininity, even in my elegant and vulnerable state.”. He was nothing like the boys at Oxford and she admired that. This strange yet impressive man was utterly focused, his impassive attitude toward her showing Samantha that her gender was of not the slightest import to him. How wrong she was in that presumption would soon be revealed on many, many counts.


Peter Rhodes removed the hooded cloak that had hidden Samantha from prying eyes as she negotiated the small distance from her front door to the waiting carriage. She had no trouble boarding the carriage even with her body so trussed, her strong, toned legs managing the stylish Landau’s step with ease and to any casual observer she was just another young lady venturing on a normal journey.

But this was far from a normal journey Samantha surmised as she settled into the leathered seat as comfortably as she could, all the while observing her curious companion and continuing to be intrigued by his unemotional behaviour.

He sat opposite, opening a small leather bag and Samantha was unsurprised to see him retrieve a further two coils of the hemp rope that already bound her, suspecting that her present confinement was soon to be improved upon. However she was surprised to see the other two items that he laid out on his seat, one clearly a blindfold whilst the other items appeared to be some sort of leather plugs. Shifting his attention from them, he turned to face Samantha and spoke to her.

“Miss Taylor,” he said, in a soft voice, befitting his calm demeanour. “you will remember the physical inspection that you were subjected to this week last gone?”

Samantha nodded, the complexity of it still vivid in her mind.

“You may recall that our physician, apart from inspecting you medically also extracted various, precise measurements of certain of your body parts and orifices?

She nodded again. “Every orifice I possessed.” she silently recalled, surprised by her humour considering the intimacy of the conversation. Under normal circumstances Samantha would be frightfully embarrassed discussing such matters but under her present environment she found herself unaffected. It was at this moment that she noticed that her sexual discharge had dissipated, an event which upon reflection had coincided with the arrival of her newfound custodian, his brooding presence shocking her back to reality. He then picked up the delicate leather blindfold.

“This my dear is a blindfold. As you can see, it has a hole in it carefully measured to receive your passably elegant nose.”

Samantha started, ever so slightly. “Was that some sort of a compliment?” she thought.

He continued, displaying the article as he described its features.

“Now you will also observe that it is padded at the precise point where it covers your ears. This is to complement these little plugs that have been specifically designed to deprive you of every possible sound on your journey.”

Samantha was unalarmed by the sight of the small, black rubber plug that he held in his long, slim fingers, nor was she frightened by the news of her ensuing blind, silent fate, in fact Samantha was aroused by the prospect of her sensory deprivation, captivated by the intensity of it all. This strange man, this man of purpose, was subjecting her to exactly the extremities she had earnestly desired all of her life, not that this particular manifestation was ever foreseen by her in her wildest dreams but in some way she knew it to be right.

“Now before I proceed I must warn you that you will be so arranged for the two hour duration of your journey and beyond and during that period I will complete your restraints. Throughout this time the only senses afforded you will be your senses of tactility, taste and smell. Now is that clear to you young lady?”

Samantha nodded, giving her guardian a direct, yet undefiant look in the process. She was beginning to enjoy this man’s company immensely, finally a male willing to treat her as an equal not some fragile item that needed to be handled with care.

“Bring it on,” she thought, “take me to my limits kind sir.”

It was then that she felt her tiny leakage reappearing.

Peter Rhodes sat opposite Samantha in his carriage, observing this amazing specimen of womanhood who by now was utterly restrained and deprived of the majority of her senses. He had seen grainy black and white photos of her smiling with her trophy after another successful footrace but he was unprepared for the sheer beauty that confronted him upon his entry to her drawing room. She was of perfect proportion, athletic but not Amazonian, her reasonably tall, lithe body sitting remarkably naturally considering her confined state, perched as she was on her drawing room chair. He had instructed her to dress in her finest travelling attire and in that regard she had excelled.

Peter’s reasoning behind the choice of travelling outfits over a more elaborate costume was manifold. Firstly, the fully-lined skirts of the patient’s tailored suits dispensed with the need for petticoats, making them more appropriate for their restraints whilst the tailored jackets provided his charges some protection for their delicate skin from the tight ropes. Also these type of outfits were made from more durable materials than the silks of their dresses making them more suitable for their upcoming journey and instillation plus, and most importantly for an aesthete like Peter, he loved the look of the modern, elegantly tailored woman, an object of beauty that in his eyes nothing of nature could ever surpass. He also believed that refined, young women of society felt both proud and happy when dressed in their finest, reasoning that this cheerful state of mind assisted his patients through their initial imprisonment.

Samantha’s attire was faultless, tailored to the extreme, her excellent choice of colour and accessories illustrated by her azure pearl earrings that matched the hue of her suit whilst her navy, kid leather gloves and boots displayed the ultimate in craftsmanship.

She was exhibiting a wistful, far-away look when Peter had first entered the room and he wondered just where her mind was before his untimely interruption. It was all he could do to not stare agape at her, such was her beauty but he quickly steeled himself, fixing his countenance with a bearing as resolute as possible.

Samantha’s reaction when he first inserted the ear plugs startled him at first, for it was as though she was accepting the most beautiful of earrings but he soon came to realize that this was a woman who possessed an amazing spirit of adventure. She looked at him when she had been deafened and he spoke to her to test this deafness.

“Can you hear me Miss Taylor ?”

She responded with a look of wonder. It seemed that every step of her captivity was transporting her to another level, which unbeknown to him it was. He hesitated before he covered her rich, blue eyes such was their loveliness but he knew the importance of these procedures and proceeded nonetheless.

This intensity of his patients’ initial confinement was designed to shock away the inhibitions that had been foisted upon them by their patriarchal society, behavioural restrictions which, when combined with their Anglican guilt and Victorian morality had resulted in a widespread repression of their natural desires.

However, what he was about to witness in the carriage would astound him to his very core.

From the moment that Peter Rhodes had shown Samantha the supposably cruel instruments that would soon dispossess her of both sight and sound her arousal had resumed. She was gently bemused by the effect her deafness had had on her and felt disorientated when Peter spoke to her and she heard nothing but this eerie, ghostly feeling was soon replaced with the gradual introduction of an exhilarating rush. It started to emerge when her leather blindfold was tied tightly around her head and then erupted some moments later after she had been bound at both her knees and her ankles which were then tethered to the bottom of her seat . Totally captured, she had become emotionally overwhelmed. She felt as though she had become an object, posed in her beautifully tailored, utter captivity sitting before the master of her dreams, revelling in her glorious, submissive femininity.

This feeling of exhilaration very nearly overpowered her and if not for her level of fitness she probably would have fainted before him. Her heart was now racing at a furious speed whilst her mind had become a kaleidoscope of sensual emotions that had invaded her very being, her mind, her body, her soul.

She had felt an adrenaline rush before during her foot races but that was like comparing a bubbling spa to a volcanic eruption. She knew she must get some control back to her situation as for several moments now she had been writhing around in a dance of passion.

The fact that the author of her delirium sat before her, likely observing her distortions with a calm detachment did nothing to alleviate her stimulated senses and in fact the thought of him being there only entranced her further. Despite their physical separation it was his tight ropes that now so passionately embraced her and she sensed that even if they were continents apart such bondage would forever promote a physical connection, the same psychology the wearing of another‘s ring promoted.

She was thinking wildly now. Calm down girl, use your athletic experience, how would you regain your rhythm and composure mid race? And it worked. She suddenly steeled herself, screaming into her gag, forcing herself into a physical awareness and then she started to inhale measured, regular breaths through her nose, a feeling of calm progressively possessing her even though her sexual stimulation continued though now in a less frenzied state. Just like the balance that an orbiting moon has between its inertial and gravitational mass, Samantha had found a balance between her wild passion and her measured calm.

Though fearfully imprisoned, she now sat in a state of emotional nirvana, the once crazy, overpowering overflows at her sex finally reverting to a gentle trickle, a trickle that she now welcomed as an old friend.

But even though Samantha had established some measure of control over this sensual invasion she also knew that it would possess her soul for evermore, its capture unavoidable simply because she coveted no escape.

The next few hours of her journey were a dream for Samantha sitting in her tailored captivity. She loved the feel of the firm ropes that entwined her athletic body and she continued to squirm against their presence, not that she sought their escape, merely their companionship. The feeling of confinement that her severe costuming provided prior to her restraints had always pleasured her but now, with the addition of her unyielding ropes it had multiplied exponentially. The stricture and the complexity of her undergarments, her chemise, her silk stockings gartered above her knees, the knickers that she laced at her waist and below her knees now seemed more apparent when enclosed by her bindings. Even her strict whalebone and canvas corset that both tugged at her waist and held her pert breasts in place was intensely magnified by her wondrous restraints. Samantha was in heaven.

Peter had looked on with disbelief at Samantha’s transformation after her final restraints were applied, her initial sensual struggles replaced by a dance of distortions as she twisted in her captivity, her body thrashing and bending in all directions. Such was the fervour of her contortions that at one stage Peter moved to intervene, thinking she may be panicking but he restrained himself, sensing that the bonneted young lady before him was made of sterner stuff and so it proved.

Eventually Samantha had managed to calm herself and Peter looked on in awe at the self discipline that she displayed whilst achieving that outcome. Her fierce determination to overcome her opponent, in this case her extreme passion had come to the fore and Peter could indeed see why she was a champion athlete. Samantha had literally steeled her body, screaming into her gag for four or five seconds which had the effect of stopping her movement. Then she purposefully altered her breathing patterns, measuring them and forcing herself into a rhythmic, gentle motion, eventually enabling herself to once again enjoy her mind-altering experience though now in a state of relative tranquillity.

Peter was by now completely enamoured by this amazing woman that sat peacefully before him, her graphic display of passion and discipline permanently etched in his mind, proving to him that his original high assessment of Samantha Taylor was entirely accurate.

This frenzied awakening of Samantha’s latent libido had surprised Peter as normally this awareness would occur at a much later stage in a patient’s program, this initial period more designed to place his patients into a neutral state of mind, the awareness of their libido progressively exposed at a later date when carefully administrated under a controlled environment at his institute.

Clearly, he observed, Samantha Taylor was a woman of surprisingly few inhibitions and it was more the ignorance of her libido rather than its suppression that had led to her anger, her unfulfilled desire lingering just beneath the surface rather than at the fathomless depths of her contemporaries.

Samantha’s reactions had intensified Peter’s anticipation for her ongoing program and rehabilitation, intoxicating his ambitious mind. This young lady could become his masterpiece, his piece de resistance.

And so it was in these respective state of minds, hers alive with an awakened libido and his in inspired anticipation that Peter and Samantha arrived at their destination, The Institute of Female Behaviour.


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