Forty Thousand or Bust

What were they going to do with her?

Back outside again, they continued through the village and on to a brick building standing out of the way of the village houses.

Through a wooden door they entered what reminded her of an empty car garage. It had a flat roof and one window to the side.

Inside the room terrified her. It was empty apart from a dirty mattress on a single sprung iron framed bed in the far corner.

A triple candle stand decorated the windowsill with three red candles all set at the same height, stewing in the sun as it glared through the glass. The facial carvings on the candle stand scared her because they looked as though they were there to ward off evil spirits or to be used in it some kind of religious cult celebration.

The man with the dog followed them but stayed outside whilst the gun man took her by the arm, over to the mattress and secured her chain with a padlock to a ring bolted through the wall at the side of the bed.

"You stay." He said to her.

Both men then left her alone in her cell standing against the top end of the bed and chained to the wall.

She ran her hands around the collar, pulling at the lock, seeing if there was any way she could open it.

The collar was very large, seven inches across to be precise but try as she did, she had to admit defeat when she found that she could not lift it up beyond her chin.

Some time later a local lady appeared with a plate of food and water for her.

The lady didn't speak a word of English, so didn't respond to Lucie's question of what would be happening to her next.

There was still sunlight coming in from outside when the fat man who had taken her measurements appeared carrying a blanket.

"Take off." He said, pulling her bikini strap down from over her shoulder.

She lifted the strap back up onto her shoulder and looked at him inquisitively.

"Take off!" he demanded, this time he pulled both straps down off her shoulders one at a time and pulled them over her arms, dragging the bikini top all the way down to her waist, exposing her tits which were at his eye level.

"Off." He said as she covered herself with her hands.

He then put his fingers down the front of her shorts and again told her to take them off.

He handed her the blanket, revealing what it concealed underneath.

It looked like something made from one of the leather hides.

He must be the village tailor she thought.

She felt scared of being alone with him and realised that she needed to raise her arms when he approached her to allow him to wrap this leather tailored thing around her waist.

It had two cups at the front that covered up to just beyond the middle of her tits, pushing them up slightly as he pulled it tight around her from behind. The leather then tapered in below the cups and continued to get thinner and thinner all the way down to her hips where an attached skirt flared out and followed her hip bones down for about six inches, just covering the top half of her arse cheeks.

After pulling tight to make a mark on the leather at the back, he removed it from around her and stepped back to stare at the beautiful naked project he had been sent to work on, standing there, chained to the wall right in front of him.

Before he exited he lit all three of the candles in the candelabra on the windowsill and walked out, leaving her standing alone, holding on to the blanket as the sunlight began to fade.

She dressed again, restricted slightly by the length of chain attaching her neck to the wall, then sat on the mattress, covering herself with the blanket.

Nobody came back to see her again that night or take her out to the toilet so she had to piss on the floor, as far away from the bed as possible.

Pondering her situation she listened to the noises from the village, watching the three flames of the candles slowly burn down, until they individually extinguished, long into the night as she lay crying herself to sleep.

The next morning she sat up on the bed when the door handle rattled. To her delight it was the same lady bringing her food and water again.

"You have to help me." Lucie pleaded, holding on to the catering girl's arm. "Please. Can you make a telephone call for me?"

The only word of English this woman understood was the word telephone.

"No telephone." She replied taking her own hand back.

She then took three new red candles from her pocket. After scraping the residual candle wax from each of the three candle stand positions, she twisted and pushed the replacements tightly into the cleaned out empty cups.

The lady cleared away the dirty cutlery and closed the door on her way out, leaving Lucie alone and empty hearted again.

Eventually the man with the gun appeared, released her chain and took her out to a hole in the ground for her to relieve herself away from her prison cell. She was amazed and grateful when he handed her a roll of soft toilet paper.

"You change your clothes today." He told her. His English was poor too but she understood him.

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked.

"You will be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" she asked.

"Prepared for Mr Taquan. The man you steal from."

"What do you mean prepared?" she asked again.

"Mr Taquan. Tomorrow." Was his only response.

The tall, slim want to be model was then guided back to the bed and her chain reattached to the wall.

It seemed like hours before the gunman returned, holding a new length of narrow rope in his hand and the same thin strip of leather he'd previously used to bind her wrists behind her back.

"Take off your clothes." He demanded.

"What?" she replied

"Your clothes. Take off." He repeated, pointing to her midriff up and down with his finger.

She stood fast for a moment looking at him in a kind of standoff but knew the eventual outcome wouldn't be in her favour so turned shyly away from him and removed her bikini top.

Bending down to remove her shorts and bikini bottoms, she covered herself as much as possible with one arm over her chest and her other hand between her legs, cowering where she refused to stand up straight again.

This position of slight dignity wasn't to last long as he reached both his arms out towards her, demonstrating how he wanted her to hold her hands out in front.

She fully understood what he meant and lifted both elbows up in front of her tits, trying to cover them as much as possible with her upper arms, before reluctantly reaching her hands out towards him.

He began tying her wrists with the leather binding and by tying the ends through the middle again he pulled her wrists in together as securely as before only this time her hands were bound in front instead of behind her back.

The fat tailor then appeared and entered her cell.

Using the thin rope, the gunman looped it through the leather bindings between her wrists then up over one of the roof beams and pulled her arms up high above her head.

Her being in this position hailed a sight to behold but these two men weren't here to touch or abuse her, they were on a mission to get her dressed in the clothes Mr Taquan had insisted.

Looking at what the tailor held in his hands this time, she could see that it had been changed somewhat from how she had seen it before.

It had an extra piece of strangely shaped leather, like a belt but not cut straight, hanging down from one side at the back.

The top of the belt had a metal 'D' ring manufactured vertically through it at the point where it joined onto the original design, just above where her arse would be.

She noticed a silver buckle on the front, acknowledging in her mind that it had to be a kind of crotch strap.

The tailor began by wrapping the light tan leather garment around from her front, holding the opening and the trailing crotch strap at her rear.

The crotch strap had already been half sewn on to one side at the back and the leather had pre punched holes so that both sides could be sewn together easier. Sewing this in such a way would hold it closed with the end of the crotch strap spanning over the join, in the middle of her back, covering the lower part of her spine.

Using a large, blunt curved needle and leather laces the tailor began sewing the rear opening closed.

After the two men spoke to each other the gunman wrapped his arm around her chest to assist the tailor by squeezing her body tightly, forcing the gap between the two sides of leather closed.

The gunman kept moving these arm compressions down her body with the tailor following him, securing the opening from top to bottom.

She pulled her waist in for comfort when she realised it was pointless resisting this two man team as they tightened the new leather corset around her lower torso.

Soon the two sides were fully closed together with the width of the crotch strap spanning across the joint in the middle behind her and the 'D' ring secured in a vertical orientation in the small of her back, just above her arse.

The gunman disappeared for a short time, leaving Lucie alone with the tailor tugging and pulling at the leather lacing until he was happy with the fitting before he tied the laces off at the bottom.

He raised the crotch strap and tested his design by folding the lower six inches of leather skirt up and over her hip bones, ensuring that it stayed up on its own and that it wouldn't fall back into place without being pulling down again.

The gunman returned with a tin pot and a brush, just in time to see the tailor folding the leather down which had covered her tits then lift each of her beautifully developed pert globes up over the folded leather crease, displaying their full beauty outside of her new fitted corset.

The two men talked as the tailor brushed a form of rubber glue over the join, working it all the way into the holes of the area where he had just sewn the laces, to seal them in place.

After returning her a little dignity by folding all the leather back over her arse and tits again, they stood for a while in the doorway discussing the piece of artwork they had just created, admiring the enhanced curves of her now twenty five inch waist before they exited her cell.

"Can you release my hands please?" she called out but they simply walked away without response or reply.

Unbeknown to Lucie she had been purposely left in that position with her hands tied above her head for the couple of hours it would take the solvent in the glue to dry out.

For the first time when the door handle rattled, she found herself glad to see someone and relieved when both the men returned to release the rope that held her wrists bindings over head.

Lucie's shoulders felt numb as her arms were allowed to rest in front of her. She accepted that the chain would not be released and didn't mind so much about her wrists still being bound by the leather as it was such a relief to have her arms back down from above her head.

"Thank you." She said.

It was now that she was able to feel the buckle attached to the leather at her front, near her naval area.

The two men checked the glue had cured and agreed it was safe to untie her hands and leave her collar chained to the wall.

The gunman tossed the narrow rope from over the roof beam into the far corner in a loose coil and began removing the leather bindings from her wrists.

Lucie felt the blood rush back and turn her wrists from white to red as the gunman coiled up the leather shoelace like strip and stuffed it in to the back pocket of his dirty jeans.

The tailor pulled the crotch strap from behind her, through her legs and tightened it in position using the buckle at her front.

They both stood back to admire the design of the constricting leather, complimenting the shape of her legs Just as Mr Taquan had requested.

Having the freedom of her hands meant that she was now able to feel her new bodysuit.

She firstly inspected quickly all over then began a more detailed search, beginning by feeling how much of her arse was on show, she followed the line all the way around in front of her to see how much of that was on show.

Ignoring the on looking perverts she unfastened the buckle and examined herself without the crotch strap.

The whole leather corset bodysuit only covered her as much as a one piece bikini would and so she decided it best to buckle the crotch strap back in place again to keep what little dignity she had on offer.

Whilst taking a few steps she adjusted her tits inside the half leather cups and felt up behind her back, stopping at the 'D' ring in the small of her back. It was securely attached, swinging only left and right as she tested it. She could feel her whole body move as she tried to lift it up and down. She assumed this would be used to tether her in some way and hoped that the collar would eventually be removed. But why was this ring so big? She thought.

"You belong to Mr Taquan." The gunman pronounced then both men exited the building, leaving her to get accustomed to her new outfit.

The lady with the food arrived soon after carrying a beautiful smelling Indonesian dish and a jug of clean drinking water. Lucie liked her and wondered how she could gain her trust to be able to obtain the key to the wall padlock holding her collar chain.

"Oh. Thank you." She said. "This smells lovely. Did you make this yourself?"

Her response was not in English but whatever she did say was with her head down as she scurried off out of the cell in a hurry.

Lucie struggled to sit and eat dressed in her corset and so found it best to lay on her side on the mattress, picking at the food with only one hand.

Later that evening the gunman returned and unlocked the padlock fixing her neck chain to the wall.

"Toilet." He said.

He allowed her to walk unaided in front of him, secretly fantasising about what he could do to her as he worshiped the tightly modified curves of her figure in front of him.

She removed the crotch strap and used the toilet, refastening the strap again to cover herself as much as she could.

She looked the gunman in the eye in an attempt to strike up some kind of relationship with him but he knew that she was out of bounds and the consequences of him not following Taquan's instructions would be severe, so he simply ordered her back to her cell.

Given the chance he would fuck her for ever and a day but she was off limits, being reserved for Mr Taquan, in preparation for being his latest sex worker.

The gunman followed behind her again dreaming about removing the crotch strap and sticking his cock between those two beautiful well formed arse cheeks of hers, feeling envious of any man who would get to fuck her in the future.

Back in her cell she purposely sat at the bottom corner of the bed in a place where she knew the chain wouldn't reach the securing ring bolted through the wall.

She gave him the seductive stare again, only this time taking it one step further by holding his hand in another attempt at winning this horrible little man over and possibly plan an escape before he made his next move of locking her up for the night.

She thought it had worked when he folded the leather cups down from over her tits then roughly pushed her backwards and straddled her chest, pressing her wrists down deep into the mattress on the iron framed bed.

By inching himself down a little he lay on top of her and stared into her eyes.

This wasn't quite going to plan so she turned her head away from him in disgust, leaving him with the opportunity to take advantage and perversely sniff the side of her neck.

This normally sensual act being performed by such a dirty little man proved to be a horrible invading experience for Lucie.

With the both of them laying down, her collar had landed closer to the top of the bed so he crawled up over her head and took the end of the collar chain with him in his hand.

Reaching for the open padlock hanging from the ring in the wall, he again attached the two together, imprisoning Lucie once more.

He then stood up and climbed off the bed.

Lucie frowned in confusion. "You're not allowed to touch me are you?" she asked, realising that he must be just another servant of this Mr Taquan. Whoever he was.

"You are not good lady." He said quietly, looking directly down into her face "You must learn." He said and pulled out the same length of thin leather strip he always seemed to carry in his back pocket.

Her heart sank. Deflated at the thought of having her wrists bound behind her back, she watched in shock as he folded the thin strip of leather in his right hand and quickly whipped the two trailing loose ends across her bare tits.

"AAHHH" she screamed.

"Wait." he said then turned and walked out of the cell.

Lucie had licked her fingers and was gently rubbing her saliva onto the red marks when he returned carrying a coil of the same thin rope used to hoist her bound wrists over the roof beam and immediately cut a length away from it with a knife.

"Stand." He ordered.

Alone and chained to the wall in a room with a man now wielding a knife, she had no choice but to stand up at the side of the bed.

Without saying a word he unfastened her crotch strap, threaded it through the 'D' ring behind her and lifted the leather skirt up over her hips, displaying her lower nakedness in the now diminishing light shining through the window.

Using his thin leather strap, he took hold of her right hand and tied the middle of the leather lace around her wrist with a comfortable textbook double knot, leaving two long and equal trailing ends.

She expected him to again tie her hands behind her back when he ordered her to lay down on her front but she remained alert and inquisitive when he calmly walked to the top end of the bed, pulling her wrist up with him.

Using another double knot, he tied her hand to the metal strut of the headboard. She noticed that her wrist had been tied to a metal bar which was slightly off to the right and one away from the middle bar.

Understanding his motive, she anticipated and complied when he reached around a different bed frame strut, this time slightly off to the left of the middle bar and gestured for her to volunteer her other wrist up to him for similar restraining.

Using the trailing ends of the narrow leather bootlace bindings, he tied her left wrist in the same way then double knotted the ends around the metal bed post, preventing her from being able to roll over onto her back.

Having calculated the positioning of her wrists correctly he had enough of the leather bindings to repeat a further tie once more around her right wrist followed by a final double knot around the bar adjacent to it.

'Surely there are quicker ways of tying someone to a bed.' She thought. Although he seemed to confidently know what he was doing, she wondered why he tied her right wrist twice and her left wrist only once.

Her question was answered when he pulled out an identical leather strip and began tying the middle of it around her left wrist then to the same bed head bar and over to her right wrist, repeating the process before finishing off as she expected, back over at her left wrist again.

Her hands were now tied symmetrically; three times each, about twelve inches apart, secured to two individual bars of the bed frame with a total of six double knots each.

By grabbing hold of her shoulders he bounced her body up the bed until her head almost touched the headboard in the middle of her bound hands.

Using rope, he tied both ankles together and then to the frame at the foot of the bed, ensuring enough slack for her head and body to be able to remain at the top where he had positioned her.

Retrieving more rope from the corner of the room, he tied her knees tightly together, securing the two remaining ends of the rope to the middle of the bed frame at each side so that she couldn't open her legs or move them left or right.