Justine

"He took one coil of rope---- I have to tell you that the ropes are so soft, silk, maybe, I don't know, but totally unyielding---- and almost gently, he tied my wrists together behind my back, very tight. And them came more ropes, pulling my elbows back and together, above and below my breasts, each turn tighter and tighter . He knotted the ties together with an elegant, almost beautiful knot. I was----scared----. but kind of excited, helpless, you know? From my waist up, I couldn't move. Then he tied my thighs together, then more ropes around my knees, and ankles, total bondage, tight, symmetrical."

*

"I couldn't move, like I said; totally helpless. He smiled a tiny scary smile and said: 'I see you as a brave woman, a seeker for new experiences. So, now I will show you the dark side of our bondage art." He didn't ask, he just told me, Then he selected another handful of rope, coarser, abrasive----hemp, this time,"

Hemp! Omigod! Justine almost lost it then; she was so conflating Amy's story with her own; her hand absently strayed to her belly, where the welts from that horrible scratchy rope still lingered.

Amy continued: "I stood there helpless , teetering for balance on my tied legs; he circled my waist with with the harsh rope, cinched it tight----I almost couldn't breathe----he knotted it, and left the long end dangling between my legs. I still trusted my venerable uncle but was beginning to have some doubts. No matter, I realized, I was totally his victim now; he could do as he liked with me."

" He stepped behind me. then; knelt and gently separated

my----my----you know, buns! And reached between my thighs, grabbed the dangling rope and tugged it----back, up----against my----OK, into my pussy, tight against my asshole, and knotted this rope into my arm and wrist

ties. I had been quiet up until now, except for a few gasps of surprise and pain when he had bound my breasts; OK? But now I spoke:' "

"Revered Uncle, you are hurting me, please stop! Please!'"

*

"He stood away from me, arms folded, like he was looking at

something in a museum, He smiled again.:'It is good. your piteous voice

and tears complete my artistic creation. He was right; I was sobbing now and whimpering in pain;The coarse hemp rope was hurting my pussy with each tiny move I made. Beloved Uncle Hikoro was a sadist, a woman hater! Just a Japanese version of a dirty old man! And he wasn't finished with me yet."

"He untied the harsh hemp and carried me to the futon, forced me to kneel. 'Here is is the other dark side of bukaku he said, discarding his kimono. That--that was all he was wearing. He untied my ankles, my thighs, spread my legs, put his hands on my ass again, rubbing, kneading, spreading me..........I just can't tell you the rest!:" Amy broke down, sobbing.

*

Justine was there in a second, cradling, soothing Amy. Her own

experience----betrayal, indignity, but not quite rape, which she was sure Amy had suffered----made her more sympathetic, perhaps, than her normal slightly distancing professorial mien would have allowed. All the other students clustered around, with physical strokes or words showing their caring. "Amy! that was so heavy!" said Vicki.

"I--I know..I know,!..." Amy sobbed. " I didn't really mean to tell. you all that stuff; it just sort of----came out.'" She began to weep again, against Justine's chest.

Justine was almost in tears herself. She felt that she had almost merged with Amy and their awful ordeals. Right then she vowed to share her story with he class as bravely as Amy had done. But not today; the class had already run late, way late.

"Class----this has been----what can I say? Powerful, very special. We'll continue tomorrow. And yes, you'll hear my adventure in bondage. Let me tell you again: everything you've heard today stays in the classroom. Frank exploration of these sometimes difficult issues demands our utmost discretion. But I know you all know that. See you tomorrow."

Trying to decompress from that intense class, Justine stopped for a cappuccino. then almost without volition she entered the upscale sex

store run by two charming lesbians; Justine had met one of them at a faculty event. She stood, a bit dazed at the displays of vibrators, lubricants, ben-wa balls and lots and lots of restraints. She selected a set of leather handcuffs, no, two, and some leather straps, and----a red rubber ball gag, almost exactly like the one Hugo had used to insure her silence. And ducked her head, blushing slightly, as she paid cash to the leering clerk.

THREE

DO IT YOURSELF

Back in her apartment, Justine reheated the remains of the cassoulet and ate, scarcely tasting her food. ' I'm drinking too much, she thought absently, and poured herself another glass of Zinfandel. Later, she showered, toweled, and stood nude in front of her full length mirror for a long time., surveyong her still damp lush body, first coquettishly, then in a series of steamier, intense poses.

*

Always enamored of herself, Justine was getting hot. She tried to look into her mirrored eyes, but could not meet her own gaze. This----this bondage thing, this obsession , was not going away. "Oh hell!" she told her reflection: "You know you're going to do it! Get on with it!"

She got her new purchases, the two sets of cuffs and the gag. and realized that she wasn't really equipped for serious bondage. the dungeons and all she had seen in the porno movies. But she found an old length of chain with a collar, from the prior renter's dog, she guessed. And a broad leather belt. there were no ropes in the house----yet. She returned to the bathroom mirror; by now she sensed that seeing her body bound, controlled, was a big part of the turn on for her. She recognized her streaks of nacissism and exhibitionism; she gloried in her own loveliness. But still--self bondage? That was a bit weird. And then

she reluctantly recalled her near orgasm with Hugo--Dr. Schreclich. Well. whatever. I'm a little bit drunk, she admitted to herself... and giggled. She posed, pirouetted, seducing herself in the full length mirror, getting hotter, until her need to do self bondage was nearly irresistable., Sitting on the toilet, (lid down ), she held the gag in both hands for awhile. Yes? No? Tie myself up, really tie myself up---- or not? First of all, another glass of wine.

Then, shuddering, she opened her jaws as wide as she could, and forced the ball behind her teeth. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she buckled the leather strap at the base of her skull----tightly. Looking in the mirror, she saw her classic features distorted, her jaw stretched, her mouth gaping wide in a silent scream, her eyes wild. "I'm either a roast suckling pig with an apple in her mouth or a Munsch painting', she told herself, a tiny bit of her usual wit still present..

She leaned over and buckled the first set of cuffs around her ankles; The thick leather clasps clicked shut; the keyole, she noticed,was tiny. And the short connecting chain was four inches long, at best. She wriggled her ankles, thrilling at the first hint of constraint. She left the keys to both sets of cuff on the toilet lid.

Now, improvising, she looped the long dog chain over her shoulders, crossed it behind her back and loosely knotted it around her waist; the tightly buckled leather belt--she gasped as she cinched it--secured the waist chain, then she bent and linked the snap fastening of the dog chain to the ankle cuffs. She could still straighten up; barely. This was getting exciting!

Now for the wrist cuffs. She locked one in place and placed the key on the toilet lid. She put both hands behind her back and thought: 'what if?' She recalled one sexy arched bondage pose in one of the movies, the voluptuous redhead's wrists and ankles were shackled together behind her back. "Maybe I could...'

*

Impulsively, she slid off the toilet seat ond onto the cold tile floor.On her side, she flexed her legs and looped the unfastened wrist cuff through the ankle chain. Arched. arms straining. she was barely able to secure and click shut the left hand cuff. And finally,her fingers fumbling, the right cuff. The tiny click had an awful air of--finality? Bridges burnt, she thought. Now she was truly hog tied--or hog cuffed. And, bent as she was, the double links of the dog chain tugged between her legs, bisecting and abrading her vaginal lips.

She squirmed. 'Ouch! And OOH! If I can just...' The interlocking cuff

chains gave her almost no room to maneuver or ease the already painful back bend. She flopped on the cold floor, scarcely able to move as she strained at the implacable cuffs. Unfortunately, the wine was beginning to wear off. This was not nearly the sexual fantasy she had hoped for!

Minutes passed. Long minutes. Justine continued to struggle, to find a

comfortable position (there was none) and slowly began to realize that escape was going to be perhaps impossible. 'The cleaning woman had a key; she'd be here in three days--no. no don't think like that! Got to get the key!' Suddenly the toilet lid, only three feet off the floor, seemed like Mt. Everest. If not for the harsh gag, she would have sobbed. But silent, drooling, her tears flowed.

Thirty minutes of strenuous inching across the floor, finally moving against the wall. (The linked cuffs demanded that she balance on her knees in order to reach the toilet) through the pain, she lunged with her chin; once, twice, finally! The handcuff keys were on the tile floor.

Almost gratefully, Justine slumped in her chains once more as her fingers groped for the precious key. Never mind her cramping shoulder and thigh muscles or the throbbing pain from the intrusive chain in her cunt; freedom was at hand. Perhaps.

Thirty minutes later, bathed in sweat, Justine was abour ready to give up. She had finally found the key, fingers groping, wriggling on the floor, but coould not reach either keyhole in her cuffs. Despairing, she flexed her chained ankles one more time. 'Of course! It's the same key!`She realized. It wasn't easy. but soon she had unlocked one ankle cuff, which released her wrists (and eased the punishing chain). She stretched greatefully, still gagged with wrists cuffed behind her back.

'That Goddamn slippery little key!' It took another forty minutes for Justine to free herself. As she wrenched off the gag and headed for the shower, shie tried not to look at the time on her digital clock., but couldn't help herself. It was 3:40 AM. She had been in self inflicted bondage for over five hours! And tomorrow, bright and early, she as going to have to face that class. And make good on her promise; to tell all.

FOUR

MANACLES AND SHACKLES

Morning came way too soon; Justine's alarm jangled her awake, she had had, maybe, three hours of sleep. Given her two past troubled nights, she knew that she was not at her best to face her class, now riding the giddy wave of bondage fever, as it were. But she had promised. And given the frank and compelling disclosures of yesterday's class, she knew that she, too, would have to expose herself. Part of her shrank at the prospect, but, as she ate her half grapefruit and drank her coffee, her resolve firmed. She dressed in a sensible linen suit, then confronted herself in the mirror once more. "No, that's phony! That's not what I wore!"I'll do it!" She took a deep breath and told herself, "the whole nine yards!"

Quickly, before she could change her mind, she undressed, taking off the tailored suit and tasteful blouse she had intended to wear. She took another deep breath and hastily selected the outfit she had worn to that awful meeting with Hugo Schrecklich; the garter belt, the dark hose, the three inch high heels. She sprawled blatantly before her mirror before she donned the wispy panties and bra. She posed seductively before her mirror once more, gathering her courage, and trying not to, once again, be seduced by her own loveliness. 'God, you're beautiful!' She told herself once more, touching herself lightly, banishing the prior nights strangely exciting nightmare of self bondage.

*

Finally, she slipped into the same short, salaciously tiny black silk dress . She confronted her mirror one more time, hand on hips, muttered '''bondage slut," trying to pump up her courage, picked up her briefcase, and as an afterthought stuffed the cuffs and ball gag inside, and went to meet her class.

As she entered the classroom--never mind the leers and catcalls in the hallway--she began to rethink her decison to 'let it all hang out' --literally. She blushed coyly for a moment, only too aware that she was causing a sensation as she faced her small class.

*

Right away, her dress, her----"Maybe it 's a costume," Vicki whispered to Amy-- whole demeanor riveted, dazed the class. Jamal, Martin, and especially Zach, were stunned, mesmerized.. and instantly horny.

"Ms. Jousse, You look----awesome today!" that was Zach. "Way true!"----that was Jamal. Justine stood before the class, leaning back against the front of her desk, her usual classroom stance. Today, however her tiny black dress was short and flimsy enough to ride up her

thighs as she spoke: dark hose, a hint of garter, an occasional flash of white thigh; the men were transfixed. This was Sharon Stone time!

She blushed and said:

"It' s my turn to share with you my bondage experience. I promised. As late as last night, I thought I'd cop out, invoke teacher's dignity, something like that. But you guys showed me so much honesty and risk taking yesterday that 'I've got to do the same. Just like yesterday, anything I say stays in this room."

She smoothed down her skirt and stood now. "So it's all your fault; you dared me to get involved in this trip,----I didn't mean just you, Zach. If there's any fault, it's mine. I'm supposed to be responsible, a big girl. So. I'll tell you what happened, and then we can discuss it. along with all your reports from yesterday, OK? For my bondage session this outfit is what I wore, dressed like a ----dressed up like what?" She posed, throwing out one hip. "What am I doing? " She thought. 'Am I going to relive that whole embarrasment?' Evidently she was.

She repeated: "So how do you think I'm dressed?" She struck another salacious pose. "Well?"

*"

"Like a ho!" Jamal said, beaming.

"I'm afraid you're right, Jamal. A 'ho'. I wanted to impress this guy, who I'd never met; maybe I wanted to tease him; the bondage tapes I reviewed before these sessions were full of sex and implied sex, after all. So I get there, and I'm getting cold feet, but before I get the chance to walk out, there's this guy, taking me into his office. Just an ordinary looking guy, OK? No Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp."

"So, I'm pretending to be cool; I offer to interview him from my vantage point as a professor. Im supercilious, amused, looking for a little safe titillation for my class, OK? Well, he would have none of that. He

was onto my act in the first thirty seconds. 'I don't do interviews'. he tells me, 'just real bondage. If your not up for that, you're wasting my time.' So

he's calling my bluff, see? Daring me to leave. And since I'm----or used to

be---- a bit arrogant, sure of myself, I accept his challenge.

."Of course I'll do a session with you,' I say.' It might be----amusing.' He just smiled and led me into his----workshop, or, if you will, torture chamber, take your choice. Kind of like your uncle's place, Amy. So he describes bondage, the rules; it's all voluntary, you've an

escape word to say when you want to stop. Then he says: I'm going to tie you up now, and you'll feel----different. And he was right!"

Justine paused to take several deep breaths before she continued . The class was rapt, hanging on every word. She was beginning to pace now, nervously, in front of her desk, flouncing with her high heels and short skirt, but not consciously.

"When he tied my wrists behind my back--tight--I felt a wave of helplessness and excitement flood over me. At the same time. I was----I don't know; stunned, blown away, what ever----and a little bit turned on, All my smart ass professor pose had dissolved, just like that. So I stood there, squirming a bit-- How had he tied me up so tight, so fast?

"He untied me right away. And smiled his little smile and said. 'See, professor, experience trumps academic bullshit every time, You're free to go of course, your ----curiousity ----unanswered, Or you can stay. He waited for my answer, calmly, very sure of himself. I just nodded, like a fool.

"Good! Excellent, in fact! First, please take off that lovely dress. I wouldn't want to wrinkle it." His exact words.

"And I did; he was daring me again---- I took off my dress----this dress----no, I'm not going to do it today, Zach--and kind of posed and wiggled, showing off my body. 'Adequate', he said----what a put down,

right?. 'Now, your bra!" I did it; I'm---- OK. I'm going to share it all!--I'm kind of proud of my breasts, and I'm afraid I stuck out my chest and wiggled a little bit more. He was behind me then; he moved so quickly!"

"With one rope, ropes-- perhaps the same strong silk cords your

uncle used, Amy.--very quickly, I was tied tight, arms, elbows nearly together behind my back, ropes criss crossing, over and under my breasts. I'm not going to do all the details, it was a little bit painful, very scary, and----somehow, I wanted to continue."

The class was hushed, as she continued.

"Now here, I think, is the critical point. Where I was an arrogant fool. He commanded that I call him' Master'. I refused; it was a domination issue; here I was, nearly naked, helpless, trying to play games with this

guy, asking for it, right? I refused, foolish, proud, several times. Finally he said 'enough of your insolence', or something like that, and forced a ball

gag between my teeth. Do you know what a ball gag is? Anyone?" Three hands went up. "I'll tell you; it's a big smelly rubber ball on a strap, it fills your mouth almost completely, your jaws are forced wide apart, and its strapped to the back of your neck,very tightly. You can sputter a little bit, and whimper and drool, but you really can't make a sound.

"And then I realized, dazed choking, fighting the gag, that I had lost any sort of control of the situation; even if I had an 'escape' word, now I couldn't say it. He could do anything to me. So, my arrogance, my stubbornness, had gotten me into deep, deep trouble".

The class was hanging on every word.

Justine paused again She had unconsciously crossed her hands behnd her back, eyes half shut as she told her story. She blinked back to real time. For nearly thirty seconds she waited, sighed deeply, and faced them, she had never had so attentive an audience. She was surprised to find that this confession, this performance, really, was getting easier. I"m like a stripper down to her G-string, she thought, And here it goes!"

"I promised myself to share this next part, and I will. He took my

panties off then, rolled them down my thighs, caressed them and then---- smelled them, and grinned; I blushed; I was turned on by then and had gotten a bit wet..There! I said it! So sex rears its ugly head. I blushed, and trembled. He had me! He knew it; I knew it.

" He led me over to a kind of leather horse, like they use in the

Olympics, you know, for vaulting, bent me over, tied me down with a broad leather strap and then spread my legs, ankles wide apart, strapping me to rings in the floor. Then he mocked me, teased me, squeezed my breasts, and finally massaged, and explored my bottom, my --you know, my sex."

Justine took another deep breath; was all this sensual detail prudent, necessary? she wondered. Then answered herself: too late to stop now, she had already dropped her G string, so to speak.She had