Having It All

by Jurgen von Stuka

  PAY ATTENTION!

  Pull the suit up around your waist and zip it. Smooth it out.

  Lynda complied.

  Put the joined handcuffs on your right side next to your hip.

  Put the ballgag in your mouth and tighten the retainer band behind your head at the neck.

  Fill your mouth with the ball.

  Put the leather hood on your head. From now on you will get verbal orders.

  It took the girl a few minutes to get the hood on correctly, poking her head braid through the small metal rimmed hole in the top and making sure that her nose and mouth were properly aligned with the nose and mouth holes inside the hood. There were no eye holes, so she was blind as she worked the closing zipper down over the back of her head and all the way to the base of her skull, sealing her head and face into the snug leather enclosure. She had used similar hoods before, so she was not afraid of the claustrophobic effect. Then she heard Ellen’s cold and foreboding voice:

  PLACE THE JOINED HANDCUFFS ON YOUR WRISTS BEHIND YOUR BACK.

  LOCK THEM.

  WAIT.

  Bound hand and foot with the steel cuffs and bands, gagged and hooded, with the annoying chain around her waist and through her legs, the leather suit half way up her torso, Lynda sat on the hardwood floor in the room and waited. It seemed like a long time. Then, someone entered the room. She thought she smelled Ellen’s perfume, but the leather smell of the hood and the rubber taste of the gag muted her senses. Whoever it was came over to where she sat and placed a heavy strap around her arms above the elbows. They tightened the strap to pull her arms together until the elbows met and then used a thick metal band to replace it, leaving her lower arms locked together as one. Then the same person tugged the leather suit further up her body, wrapping it around her torso and bound arms, pulling it over her shoulders, fitting it around her neck and head and zipping it up shut after adjusting the holes in the suit’s hood to those in the initial hood. Another wider collar was placed around her neck and locked in place. Through the double layer of leather, she heard and felt the snap of the locks being fitted to the zipper and the collar and then she was totally encapsulated in the leather, from head to toe. Still, Lynda found that she could wiggle her feet and hands and nod her head a bit. She was pushed over on her side and flopped around, trying to stabilize herself as she struggled in the darkness of the hood and the confinement of the suit and metal clamps.

  A few minutes passed and then Lynda felt herself being lifted and carried a short distance. They stood her up on her leather enclosed feet and she felt her back pressed against a wall and more clamps being fitted to her body at the same places as the ones under the suit. Her ankles, knees, thighs, waist, chest and neck were banded into close contact with the wall at her back and then another band went around her forehead and held her head pressed to the wall. The final band went over the front of the hood, pressing the gag further into her mouth and providing additional restraint. She was now helpless in every way. No sound, no speech, no sight. No movement. Lynda was in the first chapter of her fantasy story.

  Chapter Eleven

  Taming The Amazon

  “Who did you say sent you?” Ellen asked for the second time. She was getting a bit annoyed with the seemingly intractable nature of the tall, nearly Amazonian, blonde woman who sat in the chair before her. They were in Ellen’s somewhat Spartan, but well furnished and modern home office in her West Side apartment and the woman, who had insisted on an interview, was not being as forthcoming as Ellen wanted or expected.

  “A very close mutual friend,” the blond, who said her name, was Ingrid Holloway, repeated with a bit of annoyance in her voice and manner. “I won’t violate their privacy by telling you anymore.”

  “Well,” said Ellen, “I don’t know really what to say. You said your friend told you that I have an interest in erotic activities for mature adults and I certainly will not deny that. But as to how you might fit in to my personal life is, I think, a bit presumptuous. I pick my friends and those with whom I choose to engage in whatever legal activities I wish. Your coming in here, after insisting that we meet, is a bit like demanding a date.”

  “I don’t want a date,” said the blonde, crossing and uncrossing her long, slim legs. “I was hoping that, without infringing on my friend’s privacy, we might find that we had mutual interests and might, for mutual benefit, pursue them.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Ellen asked, growing more and more irritated.

  “Look, I don’t want to fence with you, verbally or otherwise. I want you and your people to kidnap me, spirit me to your place in the mountains and subject me to a variety of erotic experiences, which I am happy to pay for. Is that clear enough for you?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” said Ellen, getting up from her executive chair and walking around to the front of her desk and leaning her hip against the edge while speaking directly to her uninvited guest.

  “No. I mean it.”

  “Not a chance,” said Ellen, turning and heading for the door. “I think this meeting is over. You can go now.”

  The blonde didn’t move.

  “What part of leave now don’t you understand,” Ellen said, returning to the desk and picking up the phone.

  “Max,” she said into the handset. “I’d like you and Ted to come up here and show Miss Holloway out. She is leaving now. Thank you.” She hung up the phone.

  “Just out of curiosity, are you in law enforcement?” Ellen asked.

  “No. I’m no cop. Why would I be?”

  “Because this smells of some sort of entrapment scam, that’s why,” Ellen said as she once again noted the woman’s remarkable figure. Her breasts were very large but in good proportion to her stature and struggling to climb out of the apparently minimum bra she wore. Her waist was incredibly tiny. The top three buttons on her extremely well fitted and starched shirt were open and showed more cleavage than even Ellen would have wanted to display.

  “Okay. Okay,” Holloway said, getting up from her chair and moving towards the door, tugging down the hem of her short, tight mini skirt as she moved. “You have the wrong idea. I guess I came on too strong. If you’ll call off your security, I’ll sit back down and try to explain.”

  “Why should I listen?” Ellen asked. “You come and ask me to commit a capital crime, kidnapping, and expect me to treat you with civility?”

  “I don’t mean kidnapping in that sense. It would be with my permission, a strong hold harmless agreement and a signed release. I know you have done it before and the people you did it for are and were very happy with the whole thing. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find real, honest, clean people who are into the scene and will share with others?”

  “What scene are you referring to? Kidnapping?”

  “You know what I mean. I am…..well, I’m well off financially and I am into B&D, but I have truly exhausted all resources in finding anyone I can trust to help me engage in such activities. I have paid for it and I have shared with men and women for free, but it always crashed and often was dangerous. I don’t want any more close calls. Don’t you see…?” There was a polite knock on the office door and then Max and Ted Walker quietly entered the room.

  “You want to come with us. Please!” Ted said, addressing Holloway.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Holloway said, backing up towards the windows and moving with a catlike smoothness that caused both men to exchange glances of caution.

  “Miss Holloway,” said Ellen. “Are you absolutely sure that I can’t convince you that you are making a mistake and leave peacefully? If not, these gentlemen will assist you and if they fail, the police will be here shortly. You will be charged with trespassing and promoting conspiracy to commit a capital crime. The charge will stick because this room is well bugged and the entire meeting has been recorded on video. Now please leave.”

  “Make me,” Holloway said, taking a position against the wall and reaching into her shoulder bag. As her r
ight hand went into the bag, both Ted and Max made their move. Ted leapt across the room and grabbed the arm that was still partly in the purse while Max tackled the blonde and took her to the floor. As she fell, Holloway’s hand came out of the bag clutching a short silver tube that looked like a long lipstick but, upon later examination, turned out to be a pepper spray. Ellen opened a drawer in her desk and produced a small zippered bag which she brought over to the pile of three people now grappling on the carpet. She opened the bag, removed a small aerosol can and held it ready in her right hand, more or less aiming it at Holloway, but waiting to see if the men were successful in restraining the now franticly struggling woman. Ted had already used his own set of nylon restraints on the woman’s wrists, locking them behind her back, but she was kicking and both men had to dodge the powerful swings of her high heeled feet, not wanting to make contact with a spiked heel. Grabbing one kicking ankle and twisting it, Max used another set of flexi cuffs on the woman’s flailing feet, binding her ankles with one band and then slipping another around her legs just above the knees while her tiny skirt slid up her thighs. After that, things settled down. Another set of the nylon cuffs went around her elbows and was pulled tight, bringing her arms back until the elbows touched and the forearms were parallel. Her shoulders were now pulled strictly back and her full, actively jiggling breasts jutted out even further from her chest as she continued to struggle against the men.

  “You can’t do this,” Holloway, shouted. “Let me go. Let me go.”

  Ellen reached into the zipper bag again and removed a large pear-shaped rubber plug and jammed it into Holloway’s open mouth before the next sentence came out. The nylon band on the end of the pear wrapped around the woman’s head and was secured behind at the base of her skull and pulled tight by Ted. The fat pear disappeared into Holloway’s mouth and the noise stopped…more or less.

  “I think a hog tie is appropriate, Ted,” Ellen said, stepping back to watch as the two strong men continued to wrestle with their charge and replacing the aerosol can in her bag.

  “Agreed,” said Ted. He attached a longer strip of the flexi cuff material to the wrist cuffs and pulled it through the ones on her ankles, then shortened it until hands and feet were neatly joined and Holloway’s skirt was up around her waist, displaying all of her expensive black pantyhose with a semi transparent, black, French bikini built into the panty tops. Presented with this somewhat formidable array of feminine equipment, Ted took another pair of long flexi cuffs and wrapped them around the woman’s thighs, cinching it tight with a shorter length and sealing her legs tightly together from crotch to ankle.

  “Whew,” said Max, standing up and surveying the still thrashing blonde from a safe distance. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Ellen. What was that you have in the bag, some kind of knockout drug?”

  “She picked herself. This is what she wants.” Ellen said, putting the zipper bag back into the desk and shutting the drawer before she sat down. “And as for the little spray can, you don’t want to know.”

  “You have all the papers?” Max asked more casually now as he sat in the chair the woman had recently vacated.

  “Oh yes. She sent them back by courier with her instructions and the scenario, all signed and witnessed and blessed, but geeze, what a tiger, huh?”

  “BBuuuummm, fiff theeem eee,” squealed the blonde through the pear gag. “Uuuu aaannnnk aaaaooo uuhhgh.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe later, Honey,” said Ellen. “I think we need to close this matter now,” she said to both men, nodding towards Holloway.

  Ted got up and went out the office door while Max opened a file cabinet and withdrew a nylon bag which was about the size of an airline carry-on bag. From the bag he pulled out an assortment of leather items and dropped them on the floor in front of the hog-tied Holloway, who eyed the pile with a mixture of anger and fear.

  Ted came back with a heavy duty two wheeled hand cart; the kind used to move heavy appliances. He parked it near the door and then opened the office closet on his left and said over his shoulder: “I could use some help with this. Double your pleasure may be the rule, but two of them weigh too much for this poor old college wrestler to handle.”

  “Sure, Ted, Sure. I almost forgot about Lynda,” said Ellen as she and Max went and helped Ted pull out the refrigerator-sized packing container that was neatly fitted inside the closet. The crate was about seven feet tall and three feet wide and deep. It was made from a blue synthetic material that looked a bit like painted plywood but was smoother and stronger with extensive aluminum frame and supports. Designed for shipping valuable electronic components, computers, printers and storage units, the crate was strong and heavy. The locking latches on the front secured a double door opening which Ted unlocked and then opened carefully while Max and Ellen stood back in anticipation.

  The inside of the crate had a divider panel from top to bottom, making two equal but separate compartments, each lined with a two inch thickness of closed cell foam and equipped with what looked like a dozen or more padded adjustable stainless steel hose clamps of several different sizes. Some of the clamps were open and others closed. The purpose of the compartments and the clamps was obvious, for the left compartment held the leather clad form of Lynda, bound with the padded clamps around her torso and limbs. She was immobile because of the fastenings holding her to the wall of the compartment and, other than her leather enclosed ample chest rising and falling with slow, rhythmic breathing, made no other movement.

  “Looks okay to me,” said Ted, poking the tightly fitted leather body suit at the breast and buttock areas and getting a shudder and twitch from the well bound occupant.

  “Right,” said Max. “Let’s get this little Amazon into her suit and packing as well.”

  The trio then untangled the pile of leather on the floor, released Holloway from the stringent hog tie and began to stuff her into the leather body suit that they laid out under her on the carpeted floor. This procedure took time, as they put her feet into the bottom of the suit and started the zipper up the front, pulling the suit around her legs and torso, keeping her bound arms behind her and sealing the suit at the throat. To further secure it, they used wide leather straps at ankles, knees, thighs, waist, above and below breasts and around her upper arms, pulling the straps tight and closing the roller buckles with small locks. Holloway more or less cooperated, although her bondage allowed for little resistance anyway.

  They completed the work by placing large cotton pads over her eyes and securing the pads in place with tape that overlapped the pads and sealed the areas around each eye. Elongated rubber ear plugs were fitted into each ear canal and held in place with a bit of adhesive jelly that also provided an additional seal.

  When they finished, they had Ingrid Holloway, a neatly wrapped, 125 pound, nicely built blond, bound, gagged, blinded and packaged in a snug leather suit, so tightly strapped up that nothing moved except perhaps her fingers and toes. The toes didn’t count because they remained in her five inch high heels that had been flexi-cuffed to her feet before they began the suit enclosure. The silhouette figure with its strapping was complete except for the blond head with the pear gag filling its mouth.

  “I think she needs something special on her head, don’t you guys?” Ellen suggested, sitting on the floor next to her new acquisition. “What would you suggest, Ingrid?” Ellen asked the trussed and gagged blond lying on her back, the dual mounds of her massive breasts rising and falling rapidly from the exertion of trying to resist the inevitable enclosure in the leather suit.

  “Uuumm ehh ooff ehhh nee,” was the gagged response while the body in the suit flopped ineffectually on the carpet.

  “Well, Ingrid, you’re right about that. I think the least we can do is find you something to protect your head during the trip upstate. How about a nice rubber ball?”

  Max rummaged in another file cabinet and came up with what looked like a large, deflated, black rubber balloon with a zipper, two hoses and a small val
ve in it. “Try this,” he said.

  Together, Ellen and Max stuffed the blonde’s head into the rubber bag, inserting a hose up each nostril, making sure that it led out through the holes in the balloon, and then they closed the zippered back carefully, being cautious not to trap any of Holloway’s hair in the zipper. When fully closed, the rubber bag fit snuggly around the woman’s head and the smaller base formed a neat black rubber collar around her neck. They checked the air hoses again and found they were working, then applied a small bicycle pump to the air valve on the side of the bag and slowly inflated it until what had been a rubber enclosed head shape was now an inflated rubber ball on top of the leather enclosed figure. The pump was removed, the air value checked for leaks and everyone, except Ingrid, congratulated themselves on a successful day.

  “What about a bit more protection for that pretty head?” Ellen asked suggestively.

  “You mean….?” Max offered with a wide grin. “Surely not that,” he added.

  “Why not? You’ve been dying to try it out. Give her a shot,” Ellen said, also grinning a bit fiendishly. “She gave us enough trouble today. Besides it’s what she wants. Read the contract. It says, quite explicitly, that she wants to be abused and defiled to the max without inflicting any permanent harm, no matter how much she resists or objects. Note that there’s also an escape methodology.”

  “She said that?” Ted asked, a bit incredulously.

  “Right, no matter how she protests…and she has sure done a lot of protesting in the last few hours, I’d say.”

  “Okay,” said Ted. “Just remember that we haven’t really tested this as much as we should, so be careful and make sure she continues to communicate while it’s being done.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Max, “she’s very communicative. What’s the escape factor, just in case?”

  “Well,” said Ellen starting to rummage through the information packet that had been delivered earlier that day. I think it’s simply SOS in any form. But let me check. You guys want to give her a squirt, go ahead. It’s non toxic in any case. Worst that can happen is we have to peel it off her later on.”