Incipiunt Vitae Novae Pt. 10: Bound

"Pour Moi?"

I grinned sheepishly, melting in the glorious sunshine of Khalidah's smile. My heart soared, my arms not so much. The heft of the box took me completely by surprise.

Khalidah displayed no hint of stress as she held the neatly tied package out to me, arms fully extended, and she's a lot shorter than I am. But Khalidah lifts weights, naked if she's working out at home. If Bev's out of town on business or otherwise unavailable she'll ask me to come over and spot for her.

I'm glad that's cool with both of them. I love watching Khalidah's gorgeous muscles quivering against the resistance, bulging with vital energy beneath her intricately-tattooed, olive-colored sweat-glistening skin. I imagine how it feels when she uses that awesome power to overwhelm me, to bind me, punish me, flog me mercilessly...pay attention Angie, I have to remind myself. I'm supposed to be watching out for your safety.

"Oui, pour toi."

Khalidah's voice jerked me out of my reverie. She wasn't naked that morning but her muscular gorgeousness still telegraphed though her snug knitted top and tight-fitting jeans just perfectly.

The box wasn't really all that heavy--I just need to get in better shape myself! Could this be something to help with that, I wondered. Tied with a black ribbon looped over a single red rose, nothing else gave any hint to its contents. No matter; I had a pretty good idea what was inside.

"Merci beaucoup, m'amour!" I replied, grinning even more sheepishly. Khalidah winced.

I just kid around, but Khalidah really does speak French and half a dozen other languages to boot. Some advice--don't test your French on a French speaker unless you're good friends. Even Khalidah gets answered in English now and then. Except when she speaks English. Then she might be answered in Farsi!

"Open it, Angie. I can't wait to see what Michael came up with this time!"

I untied the ribbon eagerly, heedless of the thorns. In just five minutes my clothes lay in an unruly heap on the floor and with the assistance of Michael's excellent quick-start guide Khalidah had me tightly secured in the bulk of my present's contents. The nearly empty box sat on the hall table, the rose and the handwritten missive Michael had folded neatly into the instructions resting next to it. Khalidah picked up the note and read aloud as she examined her handiwork.

"Hi Angie. I hope you enjoy testing my new steel reinforced rubber transportation harness. I think you'll find it much more comfortable than the shackles and chains Jen had you delivered in last time, and every bit as inescapable."

I have to agree--I'm wearing it as I write!. The rubber grips me firmly, almost affectionately, and I've since learned it even allows my skin to breathe a little. The bands circling my chest squeeze me enticingly outward--cinches to the left and right deliver reassuring tightness. Oblique bands rise from cuffs locked around my thighs, deliciously reinforcing my sense of captivity. They circle behind me, framing my buttocks as they cross my submissiveness-enforcing belly band, then intersect in the small of my back. They continue upward, stabilizing my chest bands behind me before they roll over my shoulders to cross through my cleavage where they rejoin those encircling bands, drawing them tight around my captive breasts. Mischief managed, they resume their descent, attaching once more to my belly band before returning to my thigh-cuffs to complete my torso's confinement. The harness fits me perfectly.

"I'm designing a machine to apply it automatically," Michael's note continued, "but that's a hard problem, as you can imagine. In the meantime I hope you enjoy having Khalidah handle that chore. I'm eagerly anticipating your comments and suggestions."

Everything is molded seamlessly together--there are no lumps where the bands meet or cross, not even at the locks--the keyholes are almost invisible. No metal shows through to mar the lustrous black surface, though there's plenty inside. When I'm wearing it I feel like I've become part of a manufacturing work of art.

Khalidah looked me up and down and smiled as we admired my imprisoned nakedness in the hall mirror. "Comfy, ma chérie?" she asked, snickering over her Franglais. "Don't answer unless something doesn't feel right."

I remained silent. Nothing didn't feel right, but comfortable bondage comes with a warning.

I had the use of my hands, but it was clear my wrists could be fastened to my thighs in an instant. For greater security during transportation, or merely for punishment, the quick-start guide suggested, my arms could be cinched behind me with one of various included accessories Khalidah began examining with wry amusement. She didn't take long to select the collar, peeling off the lightning bolt sticker before locking it around my neck. She attached its stays like mocking epaulets to the bands crossing my shoulders. As if escape weren't already impossible, I thought to myself.

Khalidah gave everything a final tightening and grinned, waggling the adjustment key with a threatening tease. Even with my arms free I felt thoroughly secured and, in Khalidah's company, very safe and cared-for. I sometimes wonder about the safety of leather. While I've never seen it happen, I imagine a strong enough person could burst a leather harness. Not this! The guide said its straps and fasteners are rated for five thousand newtons continuous, fifteen thousand shock. Thank you Michael for including 'more than a ton' in parentheses. I won't be breaking out of this.

A narrow crotch-strap dangled from the front of my belly-band, detracting somewhat from the harness's elegant integrity, but it didn't hang like that for long. Khalidah concluded her perusal of the accessories, choosing two probes and greasing them with her irresistible grin, along with some lubricant from the tube Michael thoughtfully provided. Only one of the probes really needed any--she slid them both home with only token resistance on my part. She passed the deceptively delicate-looking strap between my thighs, threading it through the probes' protruding rings on the way, then attached it aft and took up the slack, tightening it until it nestled almost out of sight and just a little uncomfortably into my defenselessly welcoming valleys.

Integrity immediately restored! The crotch-strap's easily removed altogether, the instructions confidently asserted (should I need to be rendered accessible, I supposed. I quivered at the prospect), without compromising the security of the harness in the least.

"Hold the back of the chair," Khalidah ordered, fingering the remote. I complied, gripping it tightly--I was pretty sure what was about to happen. She tapped the intensity control a few times.

"I'll try it about half way up."

Khalidah pressed the center button.

"ARRRGG..." I doubled over in pain, my gut convulsing ferociously. I'd have fallen over for sure if I hadn't been holding the chair.

"You won't try to run away, will you?" Khalidah asked with a snicker. "Jen's expecting us at the House of Bondage in half an hour."

"Fifty percent? I promise, I wouldn't dare!"

"Good. We'll skip testing the collar for now." Her finger circled the remote--I could almost feel her resisting the temptation.

Khalidah pocketed the adjustment and release keys and with another tease-wave pocketed the remote. She handed me my overcoat, pointed me at my slippers and waved me through the door to my apartment. She locked it behind us using my key, though she has one of her own, and pocketed my keyring. My harness has no pockets.

Just as we exited the building the JenLiz limo eased up to the curb, with Seiko driving--that was a surprise. She got out and opened the door for me, blocking the view as much as possible given her petite body, while Khalidah fastened my wrists to my thighs and helped me in, hobbling my ankles the instant I was seated. She didn't forget my seat belt--then I felt thoroughly secure, especially after the solid clunk of the door closing. Sieko and Khalidah circled to the driver's side, Sieko helped Khalidah in beside me, then climbed in front to take the wheel. I was being transported to... well, I didn't really know. Heaven? Hell?

One thing I did know was that Michael's right. The harness is a lot more comfortable than shackles and chains, provided, that is, that Khalidah doesn't press any buttons on the remote. She looked over at me, her eyes radiating affection.

OWWWW...

Khalidah looked as shocked as I was. The remote lay untouched on the seat beside her.

Thought I'd remind you I'm in control too!

Michela's cackling laughter resonated between my ears, between Khalidah's also, given her irritated frown.

I met Michela a little over a month ago, during the intense electrical psycho-sexual correction session I'd volunteered for. She conducted that session's calibration, during which my limits were thoroughly tested and documented, so everyone knows now. Oh my, how many powerful women have me under their thumbs, even Michael's now-sentient AI creation! Reminds me how I felt growing up with my domineering sister Ginny.

The limo rolled on smoothly, inexorably, transporting me to the House of Bondage, though I doubted that was my final destination. Safely secured in my rubber and steel harness, I luxuriated in the leather seat's caress. The gentle swaying calmed me, inviting me to reflect on the previous month: busy; sometimes painful; always exciting.

+++++

That month began with me suspended on pole two at the penitentiary, seven of us squirming in judicially sanctioned torment with Jen as our tormentor. Bev writhed in agony on pole four, and Ginny suffered on six.

And you volunteered for this, I hear you wondering? Why?

The State Corporal Punishment sessions are most effective with at least two women present. Since a random group of seven convicts is unlikely to include more than one, a bidding process is used to solicit volunteers to fill out the roster. The winning bids are surprisingly low--I guess there are a lot more like me out there!

In this instance my presence turned out to be, strictly speaking, unnecessary. Bev was present as a legitimate malefactor and Ginny was there to complete her final qualification for the position she now enjoys as an official tormentor herself, making me formally redundant. I was useful only to help celebrate Jen's return to the chamber after her miraculous recovery. I've since heard that Jen's boss Liz received considerable heat for wasting a volunteer in pursuit of a little fun, but so be it. Jen appreciated the welcome back. She's so incredible!

As that session drew to a close, Jen informed me telepathically that she was sufficiently impressed by my performance that she planned to make me her toy. In a week or so, Jen's soothing contralto resonated in my brain, after you've recovered, I'll have Khalidah chain you up and bring you over to the HOB. We'll form a second opinion on your calibration... words I didn't hear out loud but still echo in my brain, just like Michela's cackling.

A few days later Khalidah did just that--I didn't even get the week I'd been promised to recover.

Khalidah seemed distracted that day. I felt lonesome as she ratcheted the wrist and ankle cuffs closed and secured my chains. I wanted to ask what the matter was, but I didn't dare invade her privacy. Was she jealous that I was being taken to Jen? Was she worried I'd be hurt?

No. Jen could be trusted, Khalidah knew that, even if I wasn't entirely sure.

I understood Khalidah's distraction better once we were in the limo, heading not to the HOB but to the penitentiary. The two guards who strode up to the car led Khalidah away with her wrists handcuffed behind her back, even though she didn't put up any resistance. My driver resumed our journey with just me shackled and chained in the back seat.

Soon after I arrived at the HOB that day Khalidah's plight was the last thing on my mind. Jen confirmed the accuracy of my calibration beyond any further dispute.

++++

Yes, I had to agree, the steel reinforced rubber transportation harness was assuredly more comfortable than my previous trip's chains. Having Khalidah still in the car for the final mile to the HOB was even more comforting. Whatever I was in for, Khalidah would be there for me this time. What was it to be? When we turned into the back alley and the double garage door rose to greet us I thought I'd find out right away. Not so soon, it appeared.

Jen met us in the garage. Sieko opened the door for Khalidah and the two of them hurried inside as Jen opened the door for me. But before she un-hobbled me she slipped a blindfold over my eyes. I had to resign myself to not finding out right away. She released my ankles, helped me out of the car, and led me inside.

I'm familiar with the HOB, so I knew I was being guided into the dungeon, but I was disappointed to feel Jen simply attaching my harness to the wall rather than attaching my wrists to the triple-chains. She ordered me to spread my legs wide and secured my ankles. I would have been lewdly exposed, I thought with relief, except for the strap circling between my thighs. Except, given the width of the strap, I was lewdly exposed. Who had the remote now, I wondered.

Open wide, I seemed to hear. I accepted the inevitable ball. Jen buckled the strap tightly around my neck, then walked away, leaving me in sightless silence.

But not alone, I sensed, as Jen's bootsteps died away and the door closed behind her. Nearby someone else murphed through a gag, now and then rattling their chains. I could hear voices seeping in from the adjoining viewing room; I couldn't tell what they were saying, but I could pick out Khalidah's voice, and...my sister's.

+++

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ginny asked, grinning at Khalidah. "I feel like I've punished you plenty already."

"Keep it up and soon I'll learn to enjoy it," Khalidah quipped, though she had to admit it wasn't so far from the truth. "But I can't let Angie and Bev travel to Atlanta without a chaperone."

"Fair enough," Ginny replied as Jen entered. "In that case it's time to strip."

And, Khalidah reminded herself as she shed her clothes, this is my chastisement for letting them try libidol. I hope they don't take a shine to it. Jen fished the remote out of Khalidah's jacket pocket the moment she cast it aside.

Hands once more handcuffed behind her back, but naked this time around, Khalidah followed Ginny into the dungeon. Jen brought up the rear.

+++

AAAARRMMPHH....

I convulsed reflexively, but it wasn't me. I'd know that muffled shriek anywhere. My partner on the wall must be Bev, but the fullness in my ass and cunt assured me my turn was all but inevitable.

"Khalidah thought you might like to have this," Jen snickered.

Oh no, she's giving Ginny the remote.

"I think you'll enjoy it."

She probably would, I thought. I didn't think I would.

"Thanks Jen," Ginny laughed. "What setting do you suggest?"

"All the way up should be fine."

I fought desperately against my inescapable harness before relaxing in submissive resignation. I suffered an agony of waiting, able to hear but not see my sister fiddling with the remote.

"No, I think it's better to leave all the way up to her imagination, in case we need it for real. I'll try sixty."

"Good thinking. She looks so cute when she's terrified."

Ten terrifying seconds went by.

AAAAAAAARRMMPHH....

"Enjoy that, sis?" Ginny teased as she walked over to remove my blindfold. "Just wait 'til we get to Atlanta!"

What a glorious sight! My big sister, decked out in her new tormentor's uniform. So deliciously severe, such an elegant complement to Jen's edgier getup. Jen's outfit I knew well from my volunteer session, but this was the first time I'd seen my sister's. I shivered with gleeful anticipation, wondering what these oh so powerful leather clad women had in store for me. What happened next was a bit of a surprise.

"Get your slaves packed for the journey, Khalidah" Jen ordered. "Time to get this show on the road."

Khalidah was glorious too, her fantastic whole-body tattoos newly restored after her recent visit to Atlanta. But why was she cuffed?

The clue was the thick black pole hanging from a steel cable in the center of the room. The pole ended in a socket fastened to the floor. Three sets of straps dangled from it. On the floor beneath one set stood a block, just high enough, I estimated, to bring Khalidah up to Bev's and my height. Bev, now also unblindfolded, seemed to be sizing it up too, and arriving at a similar conclusion.

"Yes," Khalidah confirmed for our benefit, "I'm going with you in the transportation container. I'm so sorry I ever shared my libidol experience with you. I can't for the life of me understand why either of you'd want to try it."

She paused for a moment, wondering how selfish this was going to sound. "Still, Ginny persuaded me to let you, said you'd never stop pestering me if I didn't."

Ginny cleared up our confusion. "Khalidah wasn't about to let either of you try it unless she was with you at the time. I talked her into this--I wouldn't want you to miss the experience!"

The resigned look on Khalidah's face said it all. The manipulatively whimsical cruelty of my sister knows no bounds.

Ginny removed Khalidah's handcuffs.

Jen reached into her pocket and drew out another remote.

"This one's Bev's." She handed Ginny the second remote with a cheerful "Here you go, Ginny."

Ginny waved the two remotes, one in each hand, with gleeful abandon, her fingers curling menacingly over the essential buttons. Jen continued with her instructions.

"Better get busy, Khalidah, if you don't want Ginny pressing those buttons. Ginny and I want to get in a little single tail practice before we have to leave."

Ginny wiggled Bev's remote and grinned. The pleading look on Bev's face could mean 'Please press it, Ginny,' or 'Please don't,' but I'm pretty sure this time it meant 'Please, please don't.' Khalidah jumped to her task.

She fetched Bev first, releasing her from the wall, then guiding her to the pole. Jen stood a whip's length away, coiling and uncoiling her single tail, while Ginny danced with the remotes. Khalidah had plenty of incentive to behave herself, even uncuffed. She backed Bev up to the pole and fastened her wrists in the thigh-level cuffs, then retrieved a plastic pail--I hadn't previously noticed it--from its parking place against the wall. The pole had its own pubic accessories dangling from straps, I could see, so maybe, just maybe, we'd soon be freed from these dreadful control probes.

"Spread your legs," Khalidah instructed Bev, then placed the bucket between her feet. She removed the belt holding her probes in place. I didn't envy Khalidah. Inserting probes is fun no matter who does it or how many are watching; removing them is another matter entirely. Bev and I prefer to do that in private. I prayed I'd cleaned myself out well enough that morning, but there wasn't anything I could do about it now.

Bev's slipped out without drama, dropping into the pail as Khalidah held it up to catch them. The briefest wipe and Bev was ready for the pole's replacements. Khalidah buckled the belt around her waist, slid the prelubricated invaders into place and fastened the crotch strap over them, rather loosely, I thought, also observing that the next strap over was missing the vaginal probe. Better not be mine, I fretted, then realized with relief that that one dangled over the platform..

"You'll notice the tubes hanging from Bev's probes," Jen said, looking straight at me. I sensed that everyone else was already familiar with the apparatus.