|
Vacation Week in Mexico 5
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Felix Dartmouth (C)
Archives BBS
1-713-896-1721
[email protected]
Vacation Week in Mexico #5
She was grateful that the flight was only for two hours.
Knowing that she had asked to go bound through customs she
wondered if she were going to remain gagged. She was half afraid
that she would be jailed as some type of drug smuggler who had to
be restrained to be transported back for trial. She decided that
she better keep her mouth shut from now on. But then, she had to
remain bound for the $12,000.00. Sighing, she exhaled sharply
through her nose, and readjusted her position again, and waited
for the flight to end.
Pete extracted her yellow ball-gag as the jet touched down
and was taxiing over to the terminal. Candy coughed a little and
worked her jaw which was stretched from the constant outward
pressure of the gag and strap. "Here, I need to take the cuffs
off. Put your wrists on top of your head unless you want to count
off some free time."
"You mean that you are going to take me through tied?" asked
Candy as she lifted her 'cuff up for him to undo.
Pete made her bend forward in her seat as he found the proper
place to insert the key. As each hand was released, she placed it
upon her head. Pete put the handcuffs back into his sack, and
pocketed the key. He then took out a very thin plastic tie, about
one sixteenth of an inch thick and about three inches long.
"This will keep your wrists nicely joined." Her took one
wrist from on top of her head and she leaned forward, placing the
other one behind her back. "No, in front of you," he said. She
gave him a puzzled look. It almost did not seem like being bound
compared to what she had been though. Already almost four and a
half hours had passed, and she had given up no free time. There
were two nights to go, however, and another plane ride home.
Peter took the thin band through her plastic wrist-cuffs, and
pulled the two cuffs firmly together. He cut off the end, and her
wrists were firmly joined. She noted that even if she had
diagonal pliers to cut off her bands, her wrists were so tightly
joined that it would be impossible for her to maneuver it herself.
She would have to have help.
By pulling down the sleeves of her blouse, it was possible to
conceal the means of her bondage, but she had to hold her wrists
in an awkward position, and she knew that as she walked, it would
be obvious to all lookers that she was not a free woman.
Pete kept a very tight grip on her elbow as he lead her down
the stairs and off the jet. He held his briefcase of bonds in the
other hand. They went in to the airport lobby and Pete engaged
the services of a baggage handler who picked up the pair's luggage
and put it on the customs inspection station. Pete presented his
and Candy's passports and visitor's cards. The inspector looked
over Candy very carefully. "Is this woman here on criminal
charges," he asked Pete. Candy's face flushed beet red. She
could feel a cell door slamming on her now!
"No, she's not," replied Pete simply.
"Then why is she wristcuffed?" asked the inspector.
"It's an arrangement that we have," said Pete.
The inspector smiled and stamped both of their visitor's
cards. Candy was dazed with fear. She felt Pete pull on her arm
and hustle her away.
"Wow," said Candy. "I thought that I would end up in their
handcuffs instead of yours in some jail-cell somewhere."
"It's like you said," said Pete. "There's no law against a
woman wearing restraints unless it's against her will, and that is
not the case here. I am anxious to see if you can hold out,
though." "Now, I'm not so sure," said Candy.
"Do you want me to take the 'cuffs off?" asked Pete with an
amused smirk.
"No," replied Candy. "You are not going to get four hours of
free bondage from me."
"Then I hope that I get what I pay for," said Pete.
"You will," said Candy, "but no more." She shook her
ponytail proudly and held her chin high as she was lead to a taxi
that would take them to the hotel.
"But this collar is so uncomfortable!" exclaimed Candy. Her
hands were on her head, and she had her nightgown on. Checking
into the hotel had gone smoothly as the way her wrists were
pinioned in front of her practically assured that her bondage was
undetectable.
Pete looked at her intently. "Swallow," he said.
She did so. There was no difficulty. The thick black
leather collar rose and fell as she swallowed. The collar was
three and one half inches thick and had a locking hasp. Pete took
a Master combination lock and fastened it onto the back, and
turned the dial.
"It stays locked on for the night," he stated.
Candy's nightgown was of frothy white lace, longsleeved, and
it fell to between her hips and knees, showing her slim and
athletic calves. As Pete had instructed, she had kept her high
heels strapped onto her ankles. Also, she wore no underclothes
beneath the thin covering of her nightgown. Her breasts and sex
felt cool in the air-conditioned hotel room. Her breasts were at
pert attention as her back was arched with her hands holding her
curling brown hair up so that the collar could effectively be
fastened onto her throat. She heard a rattle behind her back and
felt cold steel clasp her left wrist and pull it behind her back.
Her right hand followed, and her hair cascaded down off her head
to her shoulders.
With several clicks and turns, then a twist of the key,
effecting a double lock, her wrists were pinioned. Pete took out
a small notebook.
"Well," he said, making notations, "you've gone from four to
ten at night in bondage one hundred percent of the time."
"Please, Pete, I'd like to take one minute of free time now
so I can use the bathroom and brush my teeth. I think that should
not be counted against my thirty minutes. She pulled up on her
wrists and took several steps, as if movement would ease the
intractability of her 'cuffs.
"Sorry, but our deal was pretty clear. I could brush your
teeth for you, and there's no reason that you couldn't use the
bathroom in these cuffs."
"Ok," said Candy. "Just take off these cuffs and the collar,
and I'll take just one minute, no more to do my business. I want
you to time me and let me know when the minute's up." She turned
her back to him for him to undo the locks.
He removed her handcuffs. "What about the collar?" she
asked.
"You really don't need that off to do what you need to do."
"Well, if it's not off, then this doesn't count as free
time," insisted Candy heatedly.
|
|
