Having It All

by Jurgen von Stuka

  The wire head harness was similar to the leather ones which Patty had worn before, only in place of the leather straps that encompassed her head, she now had a web of rubber coated wire or flex, holding the dowel in place and distorting her features from the pressure of the wires. The worst of these was the “headband”, or principle wire that went around her head from forehead to back of crown. This provided the main connection points for other wires that came up along the sides of her nose, joined in front at the top of her nose, converged from the sides of the dowel up along and over her ears and joined the steel collar that Patty now was obliged to wear 24/7.

  Frank, with his special piercing kit, put a new, surgical stainless steel ring in the end of Patty’s already pierced tongue and when he did that, it occurred to the couple that this opened up some additional avenues for getting cooperation from their involuntary guest. Thus, Frank went to his shop and routed out a slot in the middle of the dowel and fitted it to Patty’s unhappy tongue. He had to remove the tongue ring first. Then, using long forceps, he pulled the tongue through the narrow slot in the dowel, held it there and reinserted the ring. Once in place, the ring functioned well as a holding lock for the tongue because the ring was vertical and the slot in the dowel was horizontal. Patty whined unhappily, unable to use her tongue or, for that matter, talk at all.

  “Maybe if she knows a tongue-twister, she might get it out,” said Ellen, always on hand with a pun or a joke. But Patty was not able to get her pinioned tongue free and so it stayed there until Frank, ingenious fellow that he was, worked out an alternate solution that eliminated removal of the ring each time they wanted Patty to have a free tongue session.

  Here’s Frank’s solution: he took a new, thicker dowel and routed out a larger hole in the center, a hole big enough for the tip of Patty’s tongue and the ring to fit through with only moderate discomfort and manipulation. Once the tongue and ring were in place, a simple metal padlock was locked into the ring and there it was; a nice secure tongue holder for Patty and a lot less effort for Frank or Ellen, who both hated to exert themselves with their entertainment. A nice bonus was that the added thickness of the dowel stretched the girl’s jaw ever wider. Frank completed his head work with an unusual leather hood that was slightly modified to accept the ends of the dowel, and then he pulled the hood over her head and tightened the laces behind. He did this slowly, making sure each lace was as tight as possible and that the edges of the hood met in the center so that no hair showed.

  Finally, he started to substitute chain for wire, locking her to the chair with lengths of chain around her waist, above and below her breasts, around her neck and with many turns around each limb. As he locked the chest chains to the chair, it occurred to Frank that the newly discovered nipple and lower lips rings might be used to improve the set-up, so he threaded chain around each breast, and then locked it. Then, using short lengths, he put chain horizontally over each nipple, put a lock through the ring and the closest chain link and made sure that the breast was bisected by the chain. Soft, white breast tissue oozed out above and below the bisecting chain and added, what Frank thought was a novel look to Patty’s bondage. From the center of the breast chain arrangement, he ran another chain down and locked it directly to the pair of cunt lips rings, tight enough so that when Patty struggled to breath, the chains pulled on her lips, dug deeper into the breasts and pulled on the nipples.

  “Not bad, not bad,” Frank said as he tightened up everything, relocking key places around the girl’s nude torso. When he was done, Patty looked a bit like a chain mummy and was wearing some fifty or sixty pounds of chromed steel chain plus, of course, the odd-looking hood with the ends of the gag bar sticking out of each side.

  “Overkill perhaps,” said Frank. “But it looks nice.”

  “Eet eee guogh,” muttered Patty behind the gag and the hood.

  “Nah, not today,” said Frank. “How could we let such a fine example of the American submissive go now? Huh? Smile for the camera. See ya later.”

  Chained to the chair, naked, hooded and gagged, Patty spent a few miserable hours. She was so totally immobilized by the heavy chain that she was unable to get any physical sexual satisfaction. Of course, what was going through her masochistic mind was very different. She fantasized that she was being kept by aliens who were transporting her to their planet where they would carry out terrible experiments on her, sticking probes into all body apertures and scrubbing her mind dry so that she was little more than a vegetable. The inability to move at all enhanced this fantasy and she was getting considerable mental pleasure from the time spent in the chair. When all else failed to provide her with entertainment, she would slowly try and move her head, pulling the chains through her sex or taking a deep breath and pulling on the nipple and cunt lip rings. By and large, despite her near total immobility, Patty, was, as usual, enjoying herself.

  She stayed there for several hours, and then Max, whom she hadn’t met before, showed up.

  “Hi, Patty,” said Max, all grins and beefy outdoorsman. Patty mumbled through the gag and hood. “Looks like you’re stuck with me. Everyone else is off doing their own things. So, let’s see what we can do for you.” Patty shook her head, wiggled her fingers and gurgled.

  “First, we’ll dehood you and see if your tongue still works. From what I hear you may need some further speech training. Let me tell you that it’s often better to say nothing then to bitch, but you probably know that.” He took off the hood and unfastened the wire and head harness. Patty followed her usual pattern of complaint as soon as she got her tongue working.

  “You son of a bitch,” she shouted at Max. “Who the hell are you? I demand to be let out of here right now, Motherfucker.”

  “Okay,” said Max, looking her in the eyes and smiling. “You are quite a piece of work. I know. We know, all of us here, that you really enjoy this stuff or you would have been turned loose days ago, so why do you keep up this nonsense about not liking it?”

  “Look, smart ass,” Patty hissed. “What I want is to get the fuck out of here. Get it? Now take this chain off of me, Shithead, and get me some clothes and a ride to civilization. Now,” she shouted.

  “Hummmm,” pondered Max. “They warned me that you have a smart, dirty mouth. I guess I should have left the gag in and the hood on, so give me a minute and I’ll get you all fixed up. Oh, by the way, do you want a bath or shower. You’re getting a bit ripe, you know.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Patty muttered, somewhat subdued to hear that her personal hygiene wasn’t up to par and a bit disconcerted that Max hadn’t reacted to her language. “Untie me and show me the bathroom, ok?”

  “Right. I’ll take a few precautions first, cutie,” Max said. He began unwrapping Patty’s chain work, unlocking the locks at her nipples and lips, and then he put a short leash on her collar, hobble chains on her feet and disposable nylon flexi-cuffs on her hands behind her back. She continued to complain about the cuffs being too tight and the collar unnecessary, so he put a common ball gag into her mouth, pulled the strap respectably tight, and led her to the tiled shower. He locked the leash to a chromed ring on the shower wall, cut the flexi-cuffs off and handed her a washcloth and a bar of Dove soap.

  “You can stay in here as long as you want, but if you make trouble, I’ll have you out and locked down in a minute and you won’t like it, soapy and wet or not. Got that, Miss Toilet Mouth?”

  “Un huh,” Patty said through the ball gag.

  Chapter Six

  Framed

  After an uneventful, but refreshing shower, Patty spent the night in considerable discomfort. Still naked, she was hooded and confined to a steel bondage frame. She sat on a small wooden stool and moaned, trying again to free her hands and feet from the medieval torture device that Ellen had locked her into, telling her that until she improved her attitude, she was not going to have any sort of freedom in the cabin and its facilities.

  “I got a report from Max that your language is going d
ownhill, Patty, and that will not do here. We are all civilized and respect each other, so name-calling, unless it’s an approved part of your game, is not going to work. If you want to get into verbal abuse, I think I can find someone who is an expert in verbal filth and will match and exceed you word for word, but I am also told that that sort of game gets old very fast, so I would recommend you just tone it down….a lot.”

  The stool was firmly bolted to the concrete floor and the pyramid frame served as a sort of enclosure. The device was simple enough in design and perhaps had been made by a blacksmith centuries ago. It was, when assembled, essentially an open steel pyramid or tripod. At its base was a wide steel spreader bar that now had Patty’s ankles secured in wide, thick, locking shackles, holding her feet at least three or four feet apart. The bar was not adjustable, but allowed the feet of the captive to be locked on the inside or outside of the frame. Patty’s ankles were enclosed in the wide steel cuffs and there was no movement possible for her feet or legs. From the ends of the spreader bar, two heavy, flat metal bars were welded in place, beginning on the inside of the ankle shackles and running upwards at a decreasing angle, along the inside of the captive’s calves where another fixed shackle locked around the leg, just below the knee.

  From there the same bars led upwards, the angle tapering inward to eventually form a triangle where they joined a welded on steel collar. Between the collar and the knee shackles were two other cuffs permanently fixed; one for each wrist.

  The captive was bound at ankles, knees, wrists and neck, in a rigid position with no possibility of movement other than to perhaps swing her elbows and wiggle her ass on the stool. At least, that was the original design’s intent. This frame, however, had been modified to further restrict the captive and one would have to call these modifications, created and fashioned by Ellen herself, as purely sadistic.

  Sitting on the tiny stool with her legs, wrists and neck bound to the frame, Patty was shocked to hear Ellen making more adjustments. Apparently, although Patty couldn’t tell from inside the sealed hood, additional accommodations for her discomfort were being set up for her.

  Between her knees, horizontally from left to right, another solid steel bar was bolted and locked to welded fittings inside the triangle. When in place, it strengthened the structure and made the possibility of flexing it all the more impossible. At the center of this horizontal bar was another welded fitting with bolt holes. Another, somewhat shorter bar with several holes and welded fittings on it, was bolted to this horizontal bar and went backward, away from the main frame and under the captive, conveniently right through the crotch and creating an uncomfortable, thin steel saddle. As this bar was bolted in place at the front, Patty instinctively lifted her ass from the stool and let Ellen adjust the bar, attach something to it and pass it beneath her, sliding the end of the bar across the seat of the stool. The strain of this position didn’t last long and Patty gingerly tried to sit back down on the cold metal bar running unpleasantly under her.

  “This is pretty cool,” Ellen had said as she worked with wrenches and sockets to tighten the bolts on the frame. “Just wait until I get this all nice and tight and then we’ll plug you in.”

  Plug me in, what the hell. No way, no way. You’ll electrocute me, thought Patty as she strained upwards against the heavy frame and shouted and hissed through the packing, the hood and tongue gag in her sore mouth. By now her poor tongue was dry and swelling from being pulled out through the dowel, sticking out slightly through the mouth hole in the leather slave hood.

  “Oh come on, Patty. This is going to really be thrilling. I’ve had this thing on me a couple of times and after a day or so I came to love it. A little confining at first, but I got used to it. So will you,” crooned Ellen as she went behind the girl and attached a chain to the end of the bar resting on the stool. She was attaching something else to the bar and Patty was still poised with her butt well above the bar, trying to figure out what Ellen was up to. She felt Ellen reach under her and spread some sort of cold gel or cream around her crotch and then she knew, instinctively, what was about to follow.

  “Ooooo. Ahhh oooo nun geeee,” Patty yelled behind the tongue clamp, cloth mouth packing and slave hood.

  But then Ellen was tugging on the chain behind her back and pulling the bar upwards. Patty felt the touch of the twin penis probes bolted upright to the bar and she stretched her butt even higher to try to avoid the coming, inevitable rape by these devices. Ellen had attached the chain to a welded ring on the frame’s collar and was now cranking a simple ratchet, like the kind used in cargo tie-downs, on the chain. Slowly the distance closed, shortening the chain and driving the twin penises into Patty’s ass and cunt.

  It was inevitable. Slowly, even though she strained to get higher, the probes began to penetrate Patty’s cringing rectum while entering her vagina at the same time. There was no escape; no further room for evasion. Patty had to surrender. Slumping back, she slid slowly down the greased length of both serrated, swelling probes, trying to relax. This movement caused new excitement and discomfort, a mixture that Patty had relished in many past situations. Ellen, who had been manually guiding the dual penetrators into their correct targets, was consistently telling her to relax. The impaling twins drove deeper and deeper into her. Patty realized that all of this was not just fantasy. She had certainly had other things, fatter and longer and bigger things, up her ass. She had trained herself to take the biggest and most erotic of vibrators and her locked safe in her locked closet at home held an array of penetrating devices, some of which had been designed for exactly what was happening to her now and others that were, so to speak, covert penetrators that she traveled with. With two new probes filling her abdomen, Patty sunk down and tried to relax, driving them a bit deeper and thinking about how she was no longer really a closet masochist. Physically and mentally she was fully aware of the incredible changes that were taking place as she realized that she was enjoying this session and really wanted more. Her blood pressure and heartbeat were elevated, her respiration was fast and uneven and her head was spinning with the multitude of sensations that Ellen’s efforts were creating.

  Having taken all of the slack out of the lifting chain, Ellen now substituted a bar of the same length for the chain. She bolted the bar, with its own attachments, quickly into place, fastening it at the end of the bar with the dildos on it and at the back of the collar. Once this was secured, the frame became a rigid tripod of steel and no amount of motion from the captive would allow her to extract the deep rectal and vaginal probes.

  “One more little thing, Patty,” said Ellen. “And then you can enjoy yourself while I tend to other matters.”

  She unlocked Patty’s right wrist from the front cuff on the frame and quickly twisted the arm around, bringing it behind the girl’s back and securing it to a duplicate cuff welded to the new back bar. Patty resisted, but there was little she could do and the movement simply drove the lower invaders deeper and caused them to wiggle around inside their new homes. Ellen repeated this switch with the other wrist and locked the clamps tightly.

  With her wrists clamped behind her, Patty discovered that by pulling on her bound hands, she transmitted movement to the lower bar that cleaved her crotch and in turn moved the dildos. This was not an altogether undesirable effect, but she didn’t want to display her excitement to Ellen, so she tried to relax and stay motionless. Not that any motion was possible, anyway. The collar held her neck in place, her legs were secured and widely spread at ankle and knee and her wrists were bound behind her, pulled up high enough on the connecting bar to restrict any arm movement.

  “Frank once suggested another adjustment which I declined, but you might find it revealing,” said Ellen thoughtfully. “Let’s try it. What the hell?”

  From a nearby equipment box, Ellen removed a short, adjustable spreader bar of the type that was often used on ankles and wrists. This she now fitted between Patty’s straining arms, just above the elbow. The girl flapp
ed her bound arms, trying to avoid the grip of the cuffs at the ends of the bar, but Ellen snapped them on and then adjusted the length of the bar so that Patty’s arms were pulled inward until her bound wrists were being precariously strained against their cuffs and her shoulders were screaming for relief. A short connector chain held the spreader bar in close contact with the upright bar connecting collar and wrists.

  “There,” said Ellen with a certain satisfaction at having done a difficult job well. “That should do it. Have I forgotten anything, Love?”

  Patty struggled without any visible movement other than fingers and toes, gurgled and hummed inside the hood and shook her head vigorously.

  “Yeah,” said Ellen thoughtfully. “You’re right, can’t leave you without a bit of a warm up. She went in front of the frame, pulled a long chain from the floor and seemed to measure its distance from its end to Patty’s collared neck. Ellen pushed the top of the frame forward and it pivoted on its base. Patty slid off the stool, her weight moving forward as the frame tilted. Her plugged ass and pussy, held in place by the double dildos, remained sticking out and up as the frame and she rotated ninety degrees forward. When the structure obtained the ideal angle, Ellen clipped the chain she was holding on the ring at the front of the collar. The frame was balanced on its two main legs and Patty’s weight put an immediate strain on the forward chain, pulling it tight and holding her in the rotated position.