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Chapter 7: The Greatest Bondage Gear In the World
Brad and the gray haired man went into a private area of the bondage store. To the surprise of Brad, the man began to smile and patted him on the back like a son.
“You are a sick son of a bitch, you know that?” He said with a grin as he lit a cigar and took a puff. “I like you man and I would give anything to be your age again. It sounds like you have a wild animal at home.”
“Yes sir.”
“I’m the owner of this adult establishment. The ‘store’ back there, well it’s all for show as far as I’m concerned. Lots of assembly line factories in China making that shit over there. Small Asian children putting together dildos and butt plugs and sex harnesses out of cheap synthetic material.”
Brad nodded politely as he was privately questioning this man’s sanity.
“Yup, the Chinaman makes a good, sturdy sex swing, cock cage and well maybe a decent butterfly vibrator or anal bead now and then but what they make for bondage is not for the type of stallion you got. Someone has blessed you with a real woman and only the best will do. Damn I wish I could just see her or be you for a day I would…”
“Uh sir, I appreciate the kind words but I think I have to get going. I have to…”
“Nonsense! Let me finish this point. I have my own private collection that I have widdled by hand with true craftsmanship. My lady Gerty (may she rest in peace) back in the day used to never be satisfied with ropes or those Medieval shackles. She was constantly nagging me for tighter, harder, more pain, this and that. One day a Soviet friend of mine who worked for the KGB or something let me have some blueprints of a few brilliant torture and imprisonment devices. I smuggled for him some outdated schematics of the US Strategic Defense System and this guy dug it and poneyed up the briefcases of cash that enabled me to afford the parts of the greatest bondage gear ever constructed!”
“Uh huh.”
“If only poor Gerty was alive long enough to use it. She died tragically of autoerotic asphyxiation.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I buried her according to her wishes: naked, wrapped in chains and placed into a padlocked coffin with a swarm of fire ants. What a special, very dear woman she was. Would you like to see her picture?”
‘No’, thought Brad. “Okay.”
From his wallet he took out a picture of a lady with the body of a prize fighter, the face of a pit bull and the eyes of a serial killer. With one look, Brad felt he had a lifetime of impotence ahead of him.
“Very nice,” Brad said reluctantly.
Brad reflected on entering the perverted world of bondage for real. It was always only internet fantasies until his very real exchange with Daphne that morning. Though he liked it, he had premonitions of an ever escalating bondage ‘lifestyle’ that this old man was advocating and which creeped Brad out to no end.
Would he one day be an old man with a fortune in bondage gear and an 80 year old slave with nothing more to talk about than sex?
“Okay I get it mister…”
“The name’s James R. Leeds. Here’s my card.”
“I get the idea. You have the best secret stash of bondage gear and you want me to buy it and whatever, I’ll think about it and come back if I find I’m still interested.”
“I’m saying I have the greatest bondage gear ever constructed. I see you are in a hurry. Why don’t you tell your submissive about it, come by the store and I’ll give you a real tour. What do you have to lose? I’m here all day.”
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Meanwhile back at Daphne’s compound, the sun was shining through the shutters and directed full force at the black clad female escape artist. To top it all off, underwater circulating pumps are not designed to work out of water and the one attached to her pussy was starting to rattle with its grinding mechanisms while in its final gasps of life. It was generating tremendous heat. Our heroine was almost to her 5th hour of heavy exercise and bondage and in a perverse way relishing in what she was accomplishing considering her circumstance. She was a sweaty mess chaffing against the insides of the synthetic leather cocoon but carrying out a plan.
Daphne had begun to mobilize her left arm beneath the leather straightjacket and passed the resistance of the straps, chains and latex tape. She need only get a finger in reach of that damned collar of the jacket. Once her middle finger was close enough, the extremely sharp blade concealed under her nail was exposed and used to slice the major anchoring straps of her collar and which allowed it to be removed without needing to tackle the padlocks on the outside.
With her head (including her eyes and ears) encased within a hood, the escape artist advanced her damp forearm from the steamy straightjacket and felt around for the places the chain was anchored to the suit. She blindly hacked away at the leather connecting points, completely ignoring the chains and locks as she was now fed up with her enslavement and would sacrifice the suit rather than spend extra time tackling the locking mechanisms of the locks. Her arm was now free enough to liberate her face from the hood, however she went to explore her crotch first as she considered cumming a greater victory than escape.
Just as she was finishing the removal of the many strips of tape attaching the pump to her crotch, she vaguely heard the muffled sounds of a car coming down the driveway and the garage door opening. ‘Damn!’ Her captor had come home.
Daphne knew she needed to free herself quickly or else give Brad a tactical advantage which would let him lock her up again. Daphne sliced her hood and gag off frantically, not pausing to adjust to the light or stretch her cramped neck. There was still some struggling needed to get her free hand completely loose and then pull the other arm out with some effort. She was in a zone of laser like focus as she picked the locks of her ankle cuffs and ignored the aches of her body that had been so severely restricted for so many hours.
Brad was already running up the stairs as he had a worst case scenario in mind that she was furious and that he had far exceeded the limits of her sexual fetish. He was ready to apologize profusely and would even vow to her never to bring bondage into the bedroom as the creepy old man in the bondage store had made him reconsider the appropriateness (sanity) of this kink.
She was free of the bed, ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. ‘Wow’ she thought, ‘I escaped and I…’ Well now she realized her thirst for orgasm had not been quenched and the sudden surge of adrenaline was enhancing this. She spotted her well toned and almost totally nude physique in the mirror, glistening with the sweat of victory, and she began to masturbate like she never did before using a tube of toothpaste as a dildo while rubbing her clit. She began to realize that something especially powerful was rising from deep within and she was shaking and shouting uncontrollably. She never moaned much during sex as she always wanted to show her sexual partners that she could handle just about anything, but any sense of machismo was long gone.
“Daphne I’m home. Are you OK? I’m really sorry about this morning and I will never get carried away like that, I promise. I’m not even into this bondage thing any more.”
“Fuck, fuckin’ shit, mother fucker, fuckin’ bastard!!!” Daphne was on another planet and completely oblivious that Brad was outside the door.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. Please don’t yell at me; unlock this door. Let me make it up to you.”
Daphne’s legs were trembling as she crashed to the ground with her first orgasm and screaming hysterically. “Oh my fuckin’ lord, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!!” The second orgasm was immediately coming on. She had never been polyorgasmic before.
“I’ve never heard you talk like this. You’ve never been so upset, but you’re right. I messed-up baby.”
“Sweeet motha’ bitch-ass, dick lickin’ shit balls!!!!”
“OK, I deserve that. I’m such an idiot. How could I be so stupid as to try anything that would jeopardize the relationship.” Brad had pulled out a duffel bag and was putting his clothes from her closet, into it.
Daphne was laying on the ground exausted after what felt like at least four orgasms noting tears rolling down her face but not remembering herself actually crying. All Daphne could do was smile and run her fingers through the carpeted floor.
Brad shyly popped in to grab a few toiletries and popped out. “Hey, what are you doing?” asked Daphne.
“What does it look like?”
She got up slowly and entered the bedroom still nude. “Are you going someware?”
“I’m going to go and you’ll never have my ass bothering you again.”
“I love you! Today was perfect, you were great, when are we doing this again?”
“Are you bipolar or something?” Brad asked. “You were just cussing me out.”
“I was in there cumming like I’ve never done before. You were right, I’m a pain and bondage slut. I never thought I could savor an escape any more than that!”
“Whatever. I’m getting out of here.”
“We need to do this more.”
“No we need to do this less. Much less.” “I don’t want to have-to bury you in a coffin of fire ants or something” Brad mumbled.
“Huh?”
“Oh nothing. Some insane shit the owner of the bondage store was telling me.”
“You were in a bondage store? What did you buy me?”
“Nothing. I’m not buying you anything. You’d probably just make mince-meat out of the bondage gear anyways.”
“You’re right, I need a real challenge.”
“Daphne, did it ever occur to you that you just keep challenging yourself, keep testing your limits until nothing else matters and you have nothing to show for it except a messed-up body and an unquenchable fetish.”
“I think you know that I have built a mass fortune on this ‘unquenchable fetish’ and with your help I will blow people away with some serious escape mastery. Where do you think you got the money for that car, or the cell phone that takes pictures and can be used as a shoe buffer. That glipse of cruelty I saw from you this morning is exactly what I need from a trainer. Plus, I have a feeling we’ll be fucking a lot and I mean a lot.”
*Gulp* Brad swallowed hard. There was a long moment of silence as Brad pondered what the next few months of his life would be like. “Um, uh…what if I told you that I found the greatest bondage gear in the world. Would that make you horny?”
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