ALANA Pt. 02

Everybody in this story is over eighteen, and everything described happened to me after I turned eighteen. It ends well. Not in this episode, but later. And it was a great adventure.

I was alone in my prison. Bound and chained tightly to a stake in a padlocked room below ground in an outbuilding near a house on an island in a lake in the woods distant from where I left my car having driven alone to do a quiet walk. I had been waylaid, tied hand and foot with hardly a rag to my body, taken to the island, forced to walk inland to the house, taken downstairs two flights, bound naked, gagged and left alone with nothing except the pole I was fastened to and a brazier full of hot coals burning brightly in front of me. I did not know when, if ever, my captors would return, nor, if they did, what would happen to me.

My most immediate problem was the discomfort I felt over my whole body. I had first been fastened to the stake with a chain about my waist, secured by a padlock, the chain made tight enough it could not be slipped down over my hips and bum or up over my ribs and bosom. I was then bound tightly with hemp, my wrists and elbows behind the stake, my upper body both above and below my breasts, my lower body at the ankles, knees and thighs. The ropes that tied my breasts and my legs had little knots in them which dug into my flesh. I had a ball gag in my mouth. I hurt just about everywhere just standing there. But, some how, I found this hellish experience exciting.

I had never before had chains on me. I had been tied with rope but never like this, in earnest, by strangers, in an unknown place, for an unknown purpose, for an unknown time. I had never had a real gag in my mouth, maybe my underpants shoved in, maybe a kerchief tied round. I found it oddly sexy having the ball gag shoved in there, behind my teeth, not being able to close my mouth. It was a submissive feeling, opening up for it, knowing I had no control over when it would come out. The drooling that wouldn't stop, the trail of it down my front way past my belly button. I had before learned to welcome a gag between my teeth. Biting down helped me overcome the pain of spanking and whipping and time on the rack they kept me quiet when boys fucked me. Gags helped me when I was penetrated in anal sex, when I was bound to a bed and penetrated and the pain was so bad, and I got through it biting down on a rubber dog toy held across my mouth.

So I was left to suffer, physically and psychologically. I was no more than two meters from the brazier, and I could feel the heat on my bare skin. The burning coals made the room hotter, which made my suffering worse, but eventually helped me get free. I don't know which was worse, the physical pain from being tied up and the stifling heat, or the anxiety I felt about what would become of me, but in my way I enjoyed them both. I thought about what would happen if they left me there forever, bound and alone, to die. It would probably be by thirst, an agonizing way to go, slowly, over a span of weeks.

What if they did come back. What would they do to me? The heat of the brazier and the iron implements heating in it frightened me. What if they tortured me with them? What if they forced sex on me? Blow jobs would be all right, boyfriends had tied my hands behind me and forced me to give them. What if they forced me to have intercourse? Then there was anal stuff. I hated having a dick shoved in my ass and had to be tied down to get through it.

All of this was academic. I had to pee really bad by now, but having my legs tied together made peeing awkward. I had been taught to pee standing up when I was in commandos for military training, but I was able to spread my legs. The men who had kidnapped me knew I would have to go eventually and finally I had to do it and I did. But lo and behold there was a hidden bonus. I found in my struggles to pee that the ropes that bound my wrists were getting loose.

When they had tied me up I tried to keep my wrists not flat against each other, but each turned ninety degrees. More commando stuff. They tied us up all the time and tried to teach us ways to escape. Plus the rope my captors had used on me was hemp, which expands when it is wet. My rope was stored in the cellar two flights below ground and was usually damp. The rope absorbed the dampness and thickened. Once they lit the brazier to heat up the room the hemp dried out just a little and lost some of its thickness. So I started twisting my wrists and pulling on my ropes and, though it was painful, I finally managed to get my wrists untied. I was ecstatic. The next part was the hardest, my elbows.

In commandos we learned that tying someone's elbows together was more efficient than tying someone's wrists. It's harder to get out of. But I had been a swimmer and was very flexible and I finally got my hand up to reach the rope they tied my elbows with and pulled the slightly loosened rope down to my hands and got my elbows free. Now it was just a matter of time. The first thing I did was take off the ball gag. My jaw was stiff and sore from having it rammed in there and I had drooled almost down to my bunny hole and I had been deathly afraid I'd choke on my own saliva. For the rest, my kidnappers had tied my body while standing in front of me, so the knots were right there in reach of my hands.

Next problem was the chain around my belly. I had to turn around to face the pole to get the key to the padlock which was hung on a nail fairly high up on the stake, too high for me to reach unless I could face the pole and reach up. When they had put the chain on me the curve of my ass against the pole below my back had created some space and though I scraped the sides of my body while fighting to turn around I got it done. I could reach up on tiptoe and stretch one hand up to get the key and bring it down. I was free.

It's hard to describe the relief I felt. The pain of the ropes, with those awful knots, had been almost unbearable. Then there was the gag and the way they tied my ankles and knees with the bones against each other. I was starving, but there was no fixing that. I was buck naked and there was no fixing that either. But there remained the curious attraction being tied up and helpless had for me. Being truly, forcibly bound and kept somewhere by someone from whom there was no easy escape. And feeling pain, real pain that could not easily be avoided. And real fear, that I would never be found or freed. But I was not really freed. I was still locked in a dungeon on some island somewhere I knew not where.

My next job was escaping the dungeon. Two stories underground there were no windows, no ventilation shafts to crawl through, and only one door which was locked from the outside. I knew not when or if someone would come back, but I resolved to wait by the door and try to get out when the door opened. I sat down behind the door and waited. After a time the brazier burnt down and I was in total darkness, which is what anyone coming in would see. Some hours passed. I dozed off. I had had no sleep since the night before. Suddenly, I awoke with a start. There was a noise outside the door, the door opened and a man entered, moving forward in the darkness, unable to see I was no longer bound to the stake. I slipped around the edge of the open door into the hallway and slammed the door. The padlock hung from the fastener on the door frame. I quickly slipped it also through the fastener on the door and snapped the lock shut. I was free of my dungeon.

I had not a moment to lose. Already the man now trapped in my dungeon was pounding at the door. I took the stairs two at a time, up one floor and then up two until I was again at ground level. There before me was the door through which I had been dragged perhaps twelve hours before, en route to my prison below. I looked out through the glass in the door carefully, afraid I would be seen. But I was not seen, in fact it was what I saw that transfixed me. A girl who could have been my twin was being led out into the yard from the house across the way. She was my age. Like me she was blond, young, very beautiful, thin and athletic looking. And completely naked. Her hands were bound behind her back. She was not fifty meters from me.

She was between two men. Behind these men and the naked girl were three young women, these with brown hair, also young and attractive, who were followed by four more men, younger than the other two, walking behind the girls. These girls were not naked but were clad in off-white frocks which could have been from another century, simple dresses which left their arms and shoulders and a good part of their bosoms above their nipple lines bare. The frocks were above the knee in length, drawn tight at their waists all the way up to just beneath their breasts. Their feet were bare. The men wore shirts and knee length trousers, all of a dark green shade, and hiking boots. For a time I forgot my fear of being discovered and watched what happened.

The naked blond girl was brought up between the two pillars I had seen in the yard when I was first dragged across it the previous afternoon. Almost at the top of each of the pillars were rings, one on each, and attached to each was a length of rope. And likewise there were rings and ropes at the bottom of each pillar. Now the three other women took charge. They untied the naked blond girl's hands and fitted both her wrists and her ankles with bondage cuffs, each with a small ring to which the ropes from the pillars were tied. She offered no resistance, nor did she when the men took over to tie the ropes from the top of the pillars to the rings on her wrist cuffs and likewise with the ropes from the bottom of the pillars to the rings on her ankle cuffs.

I knew what would happen next, the same kind of thing that had happened to me and the other girls who served with me in the commandos when we were practice tortured as a part of our military training. The men each took in hand the other end of one of the ropes that were tied to the girl's wrists and went up through the rings at the top of the pillars and began pulling down in rhythm, raising the girl's arms up and out until they were stretched full length up toward the pillar rings, then pulling her up a little further until her naked body was stretched taut with her standing almost on her tiptoes. Then they tied the ropes off. They then repeated the exercise with the ropes that were tied to her ankle cuffs until her legs were spread wide.

I guessed what would happen next. From a selection immersed in a nearby cistern filled with water one of the men selected a leather whip about two centimeters in diameter near the handle, tapering to one centimeter at the far end. At the tip of the far end was attached a hard piece of leather about the size of the last joint in a man's thumb. The man positioned himself behind the girl, flicked the lash out with his wrist to its full length and began slowly striking her to warm her up for a full-fledged whipping. I had risked enough time standing at the door and needed to proceed with my escape attempt. And I had no desire to witness the gruesome scene that was about to play out in the yard. I could not of course go out through the door into the yard with all those men in view so I headed down a corridor by which I might find my way to the back of the building so I could get into the woods without being observed.

My chosen corridor dead-ended at the side of the building so I was forced to go through some rooms to get to the back. I suspected that the building was empty, however, as I had heard no noise except the cries downstairs of the man now trapped in my former dungeon. Another corridor took me to the interior of the building where to my horror were several jail cells, each thankfully empty at this time. Finally I was at the back and made it out through a door into the yard out of sight of the whipping now in progress out front, but not out of range of the sounds of the naked blond girl being cruelly flogged. Not knowing what else to do or where to go I looked for a path and found one which likely would take me to the lake shore where I, the former swimmer, could swim to the mainland.

The trip down the trail was tough. I had nothing on my feet and they were cut in several places by the roughness of the trail. And of course I had nothing on anywhere else and the trail was almost closed off by foliage in some places and I was scratched just about everywhere, but specially on my legs and my arms and my bosom. But I had no choice, I had to press on to the water. Finally I reached it. I was not directly opposite the shore on the mainland but I headed into the water to angle back to the nearest shore point. I was a strong freestyle swimmer, but I was tired from my ordeal bound to the stake and from lack of sleep and just the tension of my escape.

I started off as fast as I could. It looked like a mile swim and being a lake there was no current so it should be an easy swim. It didn't bother me in the least that I would arrive on shore butt naked. I was sure I had it made until I heard the sirens from the island behind me. It seems that my captors monitored the water carefully using the latest electronics. After all, with what they were doing they could not afford any unexpected visitors. I don't think I had gone two hundred meters out of the sixteen hundred I needed to cross before they spotted someone in the water and worked out who it was.

I redoubled my efforts but I was not more than halfway across before I heard the sound of power boats coming from the back of the island. It was not long before they caught me, two of them, cutting in front of me and laying off to one side. Immediately three of the young men I had observed at the whipping were in the water with me, one in front, one behind, another blocking my exit. The one behind held me by the arms while the others bound my feet together with a stout rope, the free end of which they threw into the back of one of the boats. They got back in the boats and they were off back to the island, one of the boats dragging me through the water by my feet.

For me it was a short but hellish ride. They didn't go straight to the beach but around the right side of the island so anyone watching from shore could not see me be dragged up onto the beach, bound naked and taken inland. I had been waterboarded as a part of the commando thing but this was worse, if you can imagine it. We might have hit a top speed of twenty knots and all the while I was dragged with my feet slightly out of the water which forced my head under, and most of the time I spun round which meant for half the spin my head was facing the bottom and it was impossible to get any air. Even when I faced the sky I took in as much water as air.

By the time we slowed to put up on the back side of the island I was gasping desperately for air, about half dead at that point. When we finally beached they dragged me up on shore and didn't even bother to tie my hands. My feet were still bound together and I was too far gone to be capable of fighting back. They left my feet tied, two of them hauled me up by my arms and they dragged me up to the yard in front of the house where the whipping pillars were and threw me down on the grass next to them. The whip was to be my punishment for trying to escape.

Lying there on the lawn was an education. The blond girl's whipping had continued as planned despite the interruption of my escape. The younger men went after me and the older men continued to lash the girl almost into oblivion. I thought they were going to do only her bum, but they in fact did her all over. Her bottom had been cruelly lashed but so had the backs of her thighs and her back itself. Her breasts displayed the after effects of what had been done to them, including little trails of blood running down from her nipples. It was impossible to tell if the whip had found its way in between her wide open thighs. All over, especially on her bosom, the marks left by the little piece of hard leather at the tip of the whip stood out as every strike on her upper back caused the tip to curl around her body and strike her breasts somewhere.

I listened to the girls in the off-white frocks talk amongst themselves. I, of course, had yet to be sexually assaulted, beyond the finger fucking I had received and rejoiced in while bound to the stake. Hearing what they said made it sound as if they were fucked on a regular basis and that they all took it regularly in the bum hole, sometimes while they were tied to the bed. It did not sound like the blond girl had consented yet to sex and I wondered if her whipping had been a form of, shall we say, encouragement. Also, the frock girls evidently ate fairly regularly and the blond girl was pretty nearly starved. In fact I had had nothing to eat for almost twenty-four hours and prospects for getting anything soon seemed dim. And they had regular accommodations, though bunk beds were the norm while it seemed I could look forward to a cell at best.

The young men talked too. It seemed they lived off the island and they worked three and a half days on and three and a half days off. A chief benefit seemed to be frequent blowjobs, a chance to get some anal and lots of chances for pussy. Plus they got a chance to work the girls over in various scenes and to watch them shower and sunbathe and use a gym they had access to. Somewhere were the lords of discipline that actually ran the place but I learned little about them except that they filmed various scenes and the showers and some of the sex and sold copies for enough money to afford this small island.

In any case a few minutes more passed and the young men who had come after me in the boats re-appeared, dressed again in dark green shorts and shirts. It was only then that the other blond girl was released from the bonds she had been flayed in. When both wrists were freed simultaneously she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Her ankles were then freed, her wrists were bound behind her as they were when she was brought to the whipping posts, and she was pretty much carried off. Still completely naked, of course.

Now it was my turn. The young men hauled me up on my feet and brought me beneath a large tree, directly under a solid limb about three meters from the ground. I stood there waiting, looking up at the limb from which I knew I would hang, wondering how much just hanging there would hurt. I knew my soft brown body was just minutes away from great pain. I had been whipped at commando school and knew what it could feel like, but that promised to be nothing compared to what these people had in store for me. Instead of spreading my arms wide they had me keep my arms together in front of me and fastened the bondage cuffs on my wrists. A rope was run through the little rings attached to both cuffs and tied off so my hands almost touched. They threw the loose end over the tree limb.

I stood there naked in what was by now a hot sun and whispered a prayer. I was now almost a woman, but standing there I was scared shitless like a little girl and had a profound sense that nothing much had changed inside me over the intervening years. The little girl in me was still there and she shivered with fright at what was about to be done to her. But the eighteen-year-old me somehow wanted to do this. But as they began pulling on the rope to raise my arms toward the tree limb I felt the fear well up in my stomach, knowing what they were going to do, helpless to stop it. Now they had pulled my body up to where it was stretched taut. I could barely feel the ground beneath me with my toes. I was trembling, frightened, trying to comprehend what this would be like. They tied the free end of the rope off to the tree trunk and there I hung.

They finished the tying job by tying my ankles together. This was to prevent me from flailing my legs around, but it also offered the promise that they would spare the glistening pink target between my legs. I hung there waiting. This part I reveled in. I had always known there was something about being tied up and tortured that was special to me and now it was about to happen. I rejoiced in the warm wet feelings between my thighs. I didn't why my body wanted this. All I knew was it turned me on. I was made for this, the most wanton and glorious thing that could be done to my naked body. I felt the hardness of my nipples, the wetness of my cunt, the fear inside me. There was no escape. I shivered somewhere deep inside, terror began to grip me, my mouth was dry as sand. Sweat glistened on my bare skin. I felt the first glint of the pain that would haunt me for the next two hours as the strain on my tautly stretched body began to sink in.